Darkness Stirring: A Troubled Spirits Novel

by J. R. Erickson

  "My sister's best friend, Summer, disappeared in Manistee National Forest in 1993 and we never found her. There have been other girls. Lori and I may have uncovered a link. Hector Dunn. Police arrested him in 1994 for trying to abduct a girl near Manistee.”

  The color drained from Carrie's face as Ben spoke. Lori maneuvered her away.

  "You don't have to think about all this now," Lori insisted. "We don't want to ruin your night."

  "Lori, we're here. That's why we came here," Ben said.

  She turned and glared at him. Ben closed his mouth.

  "A link?" Carrie asked, looking from Lori to Ben. "You think this man was involved in Bev's disappearance? You think he took her?"

  Lori and Ben spoke at the same time.

  “No,” Lori said.

  “Yes,” Ben announced over her. “We've talked to the aunt of another girl who vanished who also had a connection to Hector Dunn."

  Carrie's chest and neck grew blotchy, and she pulled at the collar on her dress. "Let me just… catch my breath. Ever since…" She took a few steps away from them, swayed, and collapsed.

  28

  Ben shot forward and caught Carrie Silva before she hit the ground.

  "Oh, God," Lori moaned. "Mrs. Silva, are you okay?" Lori held her hand as Ben laid her on the grass.

  Carrie’s eyelids fluttered, and she sucked in tiny sputtering breaths.

  "I think she's having a panic attack. Go get her husband," Ben ordered, maneuvering Carrie on her side in the grass and rubbing her back. "Just breathe, in through the nose, out through the mouth. Notice the blades of grass. Everything is okay. Just breathe."

  Lori ran to the backyard, where Francisco stood talking to Zoe's husband. "Mr. Silva," Lori blurted. "Hurry, come with me. Mrs. Silva's fainted."

  "She fainted?" he demanded, but he'd already pushed past Lori and started toward the front lawn, where Ben had gotten Carrie Silva into a position on her hands and knees.

  Francisco knelt beside her.

  "I'm fine, Fran, okay, honey? I just had one of those little anxiety things."

  Francisco smoothed his wife's red-gold hair back from her face where it had pulled away from her French braid.

  A moment later, Zoe appeared. "Mom, what happened?" Zoe tried to get down to her mother's level, but her husband clutched her elbow.

  Carrie waved a hand. "Don't sit down, honey. It's okay. I'm fine. Here, Fran, help me up." She held onto Francisco's shirt as he wrapped an arm around her slender waist and helped her stand. The redness in her face abated, and she released a shaky laugh. "That was unexpected."

  Lori stood, hands shoved into her pockets, angry at Ben, angry at herself for even showing up.

  "Lorraine and her friend gave me some startling news and apparently this old body of mine decided it wasn't up for hearing it."

  "I'm really sorry, Mrs. Silva," Ben told her, glancing at Lori, who refused to meet his eyes. "I shouldn't have sprung that on you like that."

  "No, not at all, and call me Carrie. Let's go in the house. It's warm out here and all day in the sun has left me feeling weak in the knees," Carrie said. "I want to hear everything. We all need to hear it as a family."

  Lori didn’t move from her spot. Her feet seemed cemented to the ground. Tears battled behind her eyes. In the presence of the Silvas, she felt like a child again. The ugly little girl their beautiful daughter had befriended. The last person to see her alive.

  The Silvas started toward the house. Ben looked back and waved at Lori to follow them, but she couldn't make her feet go. As they traipsed inside, Francisco lingered behind. He returned to her, his face unreadable. Lori expected an admonishment, a confession that he blamed her and that he was furious she'd ruined his only living daughter's baby shower.

  He touched her elbow and squeezed gently. "Come on, Alice. You can flip through some photo albums Zoe has made over the years. There's an entire one devoted to you and Bev."

  Tears spilled over Lori's cheeks and a sob slipped from her lips. Francisco had nicknamed her Alice when she and Bev were little girls. Lori had loved Alice in Wonderland as a child. She'd carried a battered copy with her everywhere she went and watched the movie dozens of times.

  Francisco wrapped her in a half hug. "I know," he said. "I know."

  As he led her to the house, Lori swiped at her tears, which tried to start anew when she stepped across the threshold into the Silvas' familiar kitchen with its red and white tiled floor. The kitchen table was different and stood stacked with dishes from the baby shower. A family picture of Carrie, Francisco, Bev, Collin and Zoe hung above the table. The sisters had been young. They wore matching yellow bib overalls and pink t-shirts.

  In the living room, mostly unchanged since their childhood, Carrie and Zoe sat on a long couch. Carrie patted the space beside her. "Come, sit," she said to Lori.

  Lori walked on stiff legs, her face still wet with tears, and sat beside Carrie, who squeezed her knee. Ben had chosen a burgundy club chair, and Francisco settled into the opposite one.

  Ben caught Lori’s eye and mouthed ‘sorry’ at her. She smiled.

  "I'm going to head back to the party," Zoe's husband told his wife, kissing the top of her head.

  "Don't let those kids eat all the cake," Zoe called after him.

  "Okay." Carrie rested her hands in her lap. "I'd like to hear what you guys have discovered, Ben. We've lived in limbo for fifteen years. If there's anything at all that might bring answers, we want to know it."

  Ben nodded, leaning forward in his chair. "In 1993, my sister and her best friend, Summer, both fourteen, went for a walk in the Manistee National Forest over in Manistee. Summer disappeared. We searched and searched." He glanced at Lori and then went on. "I don't know if it's relevant, but she was wearing a tambourine bracelet—a bracelet with little bells on it like a tambourine—and searchers heard it in the weeks after she vanished, but never found her."

  "This was in 1993?" Francisco cut in. "Five years before Bev went missing?"

  "Yes. Then in 2003, thirteen-year-old Bella Palmer vanished in the Manistee National Forest in Reed City. She was walking with her best friend, Renee. They were picking berries and got separated. They never found her."

  "She had a rape whistle," Lori added.

  "And you feel that's important?" Zoe asked, wincing as she adjusted her position on the couch.

  "We don't know," Ben said, “but if nothing else it's a way to find them. If someone was watching for girls going into the woods, it would be a lot easier to find the girl who had something that made a sound, a bell or a whistle."

  “Like Bev’s bola,” Carrie murmured.

  "Three girls have vanished from the Manistee National Forest in fifteen years? That's pretty far apart," Francisco said.

  "Four girls," Ben said. "In 2008, Peyton Weller, fourteen, went for a walk in the woods with her friend in Scottville and disappeared. No trace ever found."

  "Four girls?" Carrie’s face paled, and she reached for Zoe's hand, curling her fingers through her daughter’s.

  "Four girls, but in twenty years and miles apart. I mean, Reed City to Manistee is what? Seventy miles?" Francisco asked.

  "Yes, but anyone with a vehicle can cover those miles in an hour or less."

  "You think one person took all four girls?" Zoe asked, looking to Lori for confirmation.

  "We think it's possible," Lori admitted. "It feels too coincidental that four girls all vanished from the Manistee National Forest, all under eerily similar circumstances."

  "And this man you mentioned, Hector," Carrie said. "You think he's involved?"

  "I got wind of him a year after Summer went missing,” Ben explained. “He tried to force a girl into the woods, the Manistee National Forest no less, who was riding her bicycle on a country road outside of Manistee. He lived with his mother in Luther, Michigan, which is pretty close to smack dab in the middle of all the cities the girls disappeared from."

  "Other than the attempt on the girl ridi
ng her bike, was there anything else connecting him?" Francisco asked.

  "Yes. In Summer's case, someone who knew Dunn saw him in Manistee the day Summer went missing and another person spotted a van that looked like his in the vicinity where Summer and Carm went into the forest. Police questioned him, but his mother gave him an alibi. She also gave him an alibi for the girl on the bicycle, even though three witnesses placed him at the scene."

  "Was he charged in the case?" Francisco asked. His hands had moved from his knees into fists.

  "No. The girl refused to testify. She was afraid. The case got dropped."

  "What the hell?" Zoe muttered.

  "I know," Ben agreed.

  Lori had said little. It was enough to be with them, back in the Silva home where she'd spent so much of her youth, and a tumult of memories and emotions swirled through her as she gazed around the room.

  "We've also found a connection between Dunn and Peyton Weller. We spoke to Peyton's aunt today and found out that Dunn used to go to the bar where Peyton's aunt worked."

  "I've never heard of him," Carrie said.

  "But that doesn't mean he wasn't around that evening," Zoe cut in.

  "And it doesn't mean he was," Francisco said.

  While Ben and Francisco continued their conversation, Carrie took Lori upstairs to show her the nursery.

  "We kept Bev’s room exactly the same for fourteen years," Carrie told Lori, leading her up the stairs. "And then Zoe got pregnant, and we decided it was time…" She pushed the bedroom open.

  Gone was the violet-colored bedspread and mess of stuffed animals strewn across the pillows. Gone was the dresser Bev and Lori had spray-painted hot pink one summer after Mrs. Silva had brought it home from a garage sale. Gone were the posters of teen actors and musicians, the pinned-up Polaroids of Bev and Lori, the faux-cheetah rug that sat under Bev's vanity, always scattered with beads from her homemade jewelry.

  In the place of Bev's former life stood a cherry-wood crib with lemon-yellow bedding. A mobile of stars and moonbeams hung overhead. They had painted the walls a soft gray color, and watercolor images of owls and hummingbirds hung in white frames. A glider with a floral cushion sat in the corner holding a small pink teddy bear with black-button eyes.

  "It's beautiful," Lori murmured, and it was, though it also broke her heart to see it. She had never again stepped in Bev's room after the night her friend had vanished, and now Lori wished she had gone to the Silvas just once so she could stand in the room and commit every detail to memory.

  Lori stepped back into the hallway and turned away from the room, catching her breath.

  "I know," Carrie told her, touching her on the small of her back. "It took fourteen years for me to change that room and even now I feel sick whenever I open the door."

  "Bev would have wanted you to," Lori murmured, and it was true, but it hurt just the same.

  Lori and Carrie walked back downstairs. Ben sat on the couch beside Zoe, flipping through an album.

  "That's Lorraine and Bev with their homemade Slip ’N Slide that was a total disaster," Zoe explained.

  Lori looked at the image, and her stomach somersaulted. There she was, short and thick with her tangled brown hair and her ugly navy blue one-piece standing beside Bev, long-limbed with golden-red hair brushed behind her. They'd taped black trash bags together and angled them along a slope in the backyard, aiming the hose at the slick plastic.

  Lori had gone first, getting a running start and belly-flopping onto the bags. They'd immediately ripped apart and bunched beneath Lori as she slid and then rolled down the hill. Bev had joined her at the bottom, and they'd sat laughing as they untangled Lori from the bags.

  "You look so happy," Ben said, gazing up at her and smiling.

  Lori faltered, glancing back at the picture, looking this time at her face instead of her imperfect body. She was smiling, her grin so wide it lit her entire face. She did look happy.

  Lori sat beside them, momentarily lost in the nostalgia of the photographs.

  "Remember this?" Zoe asked, pointing to a picture.

  "Oh, my gosh," Lori murmured. "Halloween. I went as Alice in Wonderland and Bev went as the Red Queen."

  "And Collin dressed as the Mad Hatter and I wore a Cheshire Cat costume!" Zoe laughed. "I refused to take that costume off until it was threadbare and my mom finally threw it away."

  "That was so much fun," Lori said.

  Beyond the windows, the sun set, casting an orange glow across the yard.

  "We probably should get going," Lori said, tearing her eyes from the images and looking at Ben.

  Ben glanced at his watch. "Wow, it's after nine. Yeah, okay." He stood and stuck out a hand to Zoe. "Great to meet you, Zoe. And good luck with the baby."

  "Likewise, Ben, except for the baby part,” Zoe joked. “Unless…?" She waggled her eyebrows at Lori.

  “Very funny,” Lori said, hugging her. “It was so good to see you, Zoe.”

  “You too, Lori, and don’t be a stranger. I’m serious.”

  Lori hugged Carrie and Francisco goodbye next, promising to keep them updated on anything they discovered.

  As Lori walked to her car, a tremor of tears bubbled in her chest. She hadn't expected the overwhelm of emotion as she left the house. She felt as if she'd found some piece of Beverly, a piece that had been lost along with her friend all those years before.

  "Let me drive," Ben said, brushing a hand down her back. “You relax for a bit.”

  "Thanks." Lori handed him the keys. She climbed into the passenger side of the car and rolled down the window, watching the house for the last moments as Ben started the car and pulled away. She wondered if she'd ever see it again, or if this was that final shred of closure she'd needed with Bev's family.

  "Should we still—?" Ben started.

  "No," Lori blurted before Ben could finish. He was going to suggest going to the woods, but she didn't want to be anywhere near them at nightfall.

  Ben turned off of the Silvas’ street and onto the wooded road that led back to the highway. He watched the trees roll by. "How far were you from here?" he asked.

  Lori peered out at the dusky woods and shuddered. "About two miles west of here off of Tanglewood Drive."

  In an instant the car shut down. The lights extinguished and the thrum of the engine died. The car slowed, coasted, and rolled to a stop.

  "What the hell?" Ben said, staring at the wheel and then the dark dashboard, mystified. "What did I do? Is there, like, an off button on this thing?"

  Lori stared at the dashboard, equally puzzled, but her confusion was quickly overshadowed by another emotion—fear.

  "How do I pop the hood?" he asked, leaning forward and searching for the latch beneath the wheel. He found it and pulled it. As Ben reached for his door handle, Lori's hand shot out and depressed the lock button, locking all the car doors.

  "Don't get out," she said, eyes peeling wider as she swiveled her head, trying to see through every window at once.

  "Lori, I have to get out. The car just died."

  "There's something out there," she said, grabbing Ben's arm so hard her fingernails dug into his skin.

  He squinted toward the windshield and then through her passenger window. "I don't see anything. It will take me two minutes. Maybe a spark plug came undone or something."

  "No." She shook her head hard from side to side. "That's not it, Ben. It's not. Do not get out of this car."

  He looked like he might disagree, but closed his mouth, staring beyond her into the shadowy woods.

  She turned and followed his gaze. The silhouette of something stood there watching them. She could see only the outline, like a person, but misshapen, perhaps hooded.

  "Oh, God, it's her,” she whispered.

  "Her? Her who?"

  "What do we do?" Lori unbuckled her seatbelt and twisted around, hands frantically searching the seat, backseat and floor.

  "What are you looking for?" he asked, not taking his eyes from
the silhouette. He leaned further toward Lori's side of the car as if trying to make out what occupied the woods.

  Lori’s fingers closed on the Maglite she’d kept in her backseat for years, but her hands trembled so badly she dropped it and yelped when it landed on her foot. "Ouch, oh, damn. Ugh."

  "Are you okay?" Ben leaned forward and grabbed the light.

  "Yeah, I'm fine. That thing is heavy."

  "Do you have Triple A?"

  "Yes—oh, good idea. Or the police? Maybe I should just call the police."

  Ben shook his head. "Not if you have Triple A. Just take a breath and call them. I'm going to shine the flashlight out your window."

  Lori shrank away from the window, grabbing the lever on her seat and pushing herself into the far back position.

  Ben turned on the light, aiming it through the glass.

  Lori’s spine went rigid and she couldn’t help but follow the beam of light and prepare herself for what it revealed.

  Nothing was there. Not a person. Not even a tree in the shape of the thing they’d been looking at.

  Lori held her phone with an iron grip, but she hadn’t dialed. "It's gone," she whispered.

  Ben angled the light from side to side, searching for anyone in the trees. Nothing moved except the shuddering leaves.

  “Call Triple A,” Ben told her.

  Lori started to dial and then paused, deciding, for reasons she did not understand, to lean over Ben and turn the key. The engine purred on.

  Ben looked from her to the hood of the car. “How’d you do that?”

  She shook her head. “Let’s just get out of here.”

  29

  When they finally reached Ben's house it was nearly ten p.m.

  "You can stay," he offered.

  “I’d better not. My mom's place isn't far. I'll head over there for the night. I've got a lot on my mind. I feel like sitting with it for a while."

  "Yeah, me too." He leaned in and hugged her, a surprising gesture, but it felt good. When he pulled away, he held her eyes for a long moment. "I'm sorry about the thing with Bev’s mom, bringing all that stuff up when you clearly didn’t want me to.”