Soon, Rachel was going everywhere with Sarah. Dances, football games, the mall. Just as Alyssa had done, Rachel spent hours in Sarah’s room, and eventually, Sarah found she had a best friend again. Somewhere along the line, boys started noticing Rachel, and her big sister was there to keep them in line. By the time Sarah went off to UCSB, Rachel knew how to look after herself. At Santa Barbara City College, she met her future husband, Paul, who, after a successful dinner at the family home, received Sarah’s stamp of approval—and Eddie’s blessing.
Sarah reached out her hand and took her sister’s. “Your tea is getting cold.”
“Oh.” Rachel took a sip. “It’s good.”
“Did Michael threaten you?”
“That’s just it. It wasn’t anything he said or did. Maybe I was imagining the whole thing. It was dark, and I was alone in the office.”
“But you sensed something was wrong.”
“Yes.”
“You should never ignore that feeling.”
Sarah thought back to how oddly Michael had behaved at the singles’ dance when Fr. Donnelly arrived. And then, his interest in buying Casa Abrigo. Coincidence? That house was too big for one person. What was he really up to?
“Sarah?”
“Sorry, what?”
“I said, what do you think we should do? I mean, nothing happened.”
“I’ll talk to Joe. One thing’s for sure, I don’t want you or Blanca staying late anymore.”
“Alright. I’m sure Katy will love seeing me on time for dinner.”
Sarah stood and opened the door. “I need to run some errands.”
“Have you seen Joe yet today?”
“No. He’s on my to-do list.” Sarah turned to go.
“Hey, sis?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. I mean it.”
“No problemo,” Sarah said.
Talking to her sister had upset her in ways that surprised her. Why would Michael Peterson want to harm Rachel? She left before her sister could see the threatening tears.
Sarah jogged her way up San Marcos Pass Road at a steady clip toward Casa Abrigo. She’d decided she needed to clear her head, and the best way to do that was to go for a run. She could feel the rising road in her calves and picked up her pace, all the while keeping an eye out for loose gravel. Once, she’d stepped on a rock and was laid up for a month with a torn tendon.
The trees looked darker up here against the graying sky. Or was that her imagination? It was definitely colder than at her house. In a clearing, something glowed faintly. Probably a patch of sunlight that had made its way through the thick cloak of clouds that promised rain.
She could see the house at the top of the rise. Stark, threatening. Joe’s truck was parked outside with the others, and the sight filled her with happiness. She’d missed him so much and completely forgot her feelings of caution toward him. Heading toward the house, she decided to continue on instead. She hadn’t run in several days, and she wanted to get back into shape. Another five miles wouldn’t kill her.
As she made her way through the forest, she could hear the wind rushing through the trees and the distant croaking of a raven. She followed a well-worn trail leading to Devil’s Bluff, where she would enjoy the view for a few minutes, then return to Casa Abrigo. She was sure she could con Joe into driving her home.
Other than the wind, the forest was strangely quiet. Pacing herself, she continued on toward the Santa Ynez River. Three more miles. She could hear the faint sound of rushing water. Now she thought she heard wings beating. The last time she’d heard that sound, it was at the public storage facility when she and Joe went to visit the mirror.
The trees opened up into a clearing, and she could see Devil’s Bluff. It felt warmer, and she removed her hoodie, revealing the T-shirt she’d received at last year’s Pier to Peak Half-Marathon. Breathing hard, she approached the precipice and stood looking out at the beauty surrounding her. She checked her pulse. A flock of ravens streaked across the sky, croaking angrily, sending a jolt of fear through her. A noise startled her. It sounded like a rush of wind.
Before she could turn around, she felt something driving her forward. She was already dangerously close to the edge and cried out. Thinking fast, she darted sideways, turned, and began running away from the cliff. Something invisible was pursuing her—she could sense it—and it terrified her. As she approached a fallen tree, another strong push drove her down. She didn’t have time to scream and fell forward onto the tree. Excruciating pain tore through her side, and for a moment, she couldn’t catch her breath. Silently, she prayed to St. Michael.
When she recovered her senses, Sarah found she was lying next to the gigantic log in a chaparral bed of scrub oak and wild lilac. She could feel something wet on her face, and when she went to touch it, she found blood. She sat up and checked her arms and legs. Nothing broken, thank God. My ribs. She was in agony. Her heart was beating rapidly and, rather than risk hurting herself further, she decided to call Joe. It took him only a few minutes to maneuver his truck to where she was sitting.
“Sarah? What happened?”
“I’m not sure. Help me up.”
He extended his hand. When she’d gotten to her feet, she let out a loud moan.
“Where does it hurt?” he said.
“My side.”
“I’m taking you to emergency.”
“No, I’m okay. The pain has lessened.”
“Take a deep breath.” She did as he asked. “I’m going to have a look.”
“Playing doctor, are we?”
“Be quiet.”
Gently, he pulled up her T-shirt, exposing her bare midriff. The area on one side looked badly bruised. Gingerly, he probed it.
“One a scale of one to ten?”
“Maybe a six.”
“Okay. Carefully twist your body from side to side.”
He watched as she followed his instruction.
“Well, I don’t think you broke any ribs. Come on, let’s get you up to the house.”
“This is why most people hate exercise, you know,” Sarah said, leaning on Joe’s shoulder as she adjusted her shoe. When she looked up at him again, she noticed he was staring at something.
“What is it?”
He pointed to a branch that had broken off, leaving a sharp point sticking straight up out of the log.
“You could’ve lost an eye,” he said.
“That’s a comforting thought. Oh, my hoodie.”
She pointed off somewhere, and he went to retrieve it. Then, he helped her into the truck.
“What happened anyway?” he said, turning the vehicle around and heading back.
“Do you want the truth? Or should I cop to being a klutz?”
“The truth.”
“Something pushed me.”
“What? You mean, like an animal, or…”
“No. Something invisible. Joe, please don’t give me that look. It sounded like wind. First, it tried shoving me over the cliff. I ran, but it knocked me down.”
At the house, they made their way toward the front door. Sarah found she was limping and realized she must’ve injured her knee, too. Nothing a nice hot shower wouldn’t fix, though.
As they reached the open front door, Joe stopped her and laid his hands on her shoulders. He was about to say something when he smiled sadly and pressed her close to him. Surprised and happy, she held him. Looking up, she kissed him, leaving a blood smear on his face. Laughing, she wiped it off with the sleeve of her hoodie.
“Maybe now is not the time to bring up the budget,” he said.
“Bad?”
“The good news is, we’re way ahead on the other properties.”
“And the bad?”
“We’re taking it in the shorts here. Feel up to seeing the cellar?”
“I guess.”
Overcoming her fear, Sarah walked into the storage room in the cellar and knelt on her good knee to examine the stain. It looked like someone had
created it using charcoal, and she could see it was deeply embedded in the stone.
“This is where we found the mirror.”
“Yeah. Sarah, I don’t know what’s going on. I mean, do we bring an exorcist in here, or what?”
“I’ll speak to Fr. Brian about it. I’m seeing him later today.” She reached her hand out behind her. “Give an old lady a hand, will ya?”
In the kitchen, Sarah grabbed a water from the cooler. As Joe applied a bandage to the cut on her face, she told him about the bible verse. Manny and the boys were at lunch, and it was just the two of them. The house was beautiful, and Sarah wished it was another normal property. But something dark had the place in its grasp—she could feel it. Maybe a blessing would help.
“I don’t understand,” Joe said. “A biblical punishment?”
“It’s only a theory. I’m hoping Fr. Brian can help.”
He sidled up to her and brought her in close. She loved his strength and readily succumbed.
“What are you doing, mister?”
“As long as you’re seeing him, do you think you could get a preemptive Confession to cover tonight?”
She laughed. “A preemptive Confession?”
“Yeah. Because I want to come over tonight and, you know, take care of you.”
“I see. So, you think I can store up Confessions like a bank and spend them as needed? Maybe I can ask Fr. Brian for a line of absolving credit. Get it?”
“Okay, never mind.” He kissed her forehead and took a step back. “Can’t blame a guy for trying. Come on, I’ll drive you home. Sure you don’t want to at least go to urgent care?”
“I’m fine, Joe.”
“What about your knee?”
“I’ve had worse. Besides, I need to shower and change. I’m picking Carter up at three.”
“I thought we could have lunch.”
She hesitated. “You know, lunch would be great.”
“Okay, I’ll drive you home and meet you at—”
“The Japanese place. Rache and I went there the other day, and it’s good.”
“Whatever you say.”
Sarah could hear the sound of vehicles outside, followed by laughing voices chattering in Spanish.
“Hey,” she said. “I’d rather the guys didn’t know about what happened. Let’s leave it at I bumped my head, okay?”
“Sure.”
Sarah and Joe left as Manny and his sons were walking in.
“Hey, guys,” she said, hoping no one had noticed the bandage.
Sarah peeled off the bandage and examined the cut on her face. It had already closed, and she guessed she could cover it with makeup. She stepped into the steaming shower and let the soothing water pulse against her back. Since coming home, her whole body was feeling stiff. She would swallow a couple of ibuprofen tablets later, after she got some food in her. Taking her time, she washed using a new eucalyptus and tangerine body gel that was supposed to relieve stress. Maybe if they had seen fit to mix in some scotch, it would’ve worked. She was starting to feel better, though.
Stepping out, she used a soft bath towel to dry herself, then walked into her bedroom and put on her underwear and bra. Standing in front of her dresser mirror, she examined her injured side. Turning sideways, she froze. On her shoulder blade was a large, dark bruise that resembled—no, it couldn’t be.
A hand.
Sarah pulled in front of The Cracked Pot and parked to wait for Carter. It was after three. The girl was probably changing. While Sarah waited, she thought about Joe. Seeing him again at lunch had been a comfort. She had decided not to say anything about the bruising on her back. Instead, they discussed what to do about the incident with Michael Peterson. Since nothing had happened, they decided not to say anything to Lou. Joe advised Sarah not to contact Michael and to wait and see if he made an appearance again.
Carter walked out, wearing jeans and a Free People top and carrying a cute Lululemon black duffel. Grinning, she tossed her bag into the backseat and climbed in on the passenger side.
“I can’t get over this car,” Carter said. “Makes me wish I knew how to drive a stick.”
“I could teach you.”
“Maybe someday. So, is the priest expecting us?”
“Yeah, although I didn’t go into any details on the phone.”
Traffic was light, and it only took a few minutes to get into Santa Barbara. Sarah parked on the street near the church, and they walked in. School had already let out, and the campus was deserted. As they made their way toward the offices, Carter happened to glance across the street at the field. Looking away, she followed Sarah into the building.
Inside, the assistant, Mrs. Ivy, was nowhere in sight.
“Fr. Brian?” Sarah said.
The priest’s door was partially open, and she could hear two voices. Then, “Come on in, Sarah.”
Sarah walked in first and was disconcerted to find Harlan Covington sitting in front of the desk. When he saw the women, he rose and smiled, sending a chill down Sarah’s spine.
“Ms. Greene,” he said, extending his hand. “Nice to see you again.”
Reluctantly, Sarah took it, noticing again the onyx ring.
“Mr. Covington. This is my friend, Carter Wittgenstein.”
When the introductions were finished, Sarah said to Fr. Donnelly, “I wasn’t aware you two knew each other.”
Fr. Donnelly forced a chuckle. “Harlan and I go way back. He is a very generous donor. I’ve been trying to convince him to replace that dodgy furnace of ours.”
“I’ll see to it right away, Brian,” the old man said. “Now, I must run. Ladies?”
Sarah watched as he walked out, his back straight and his step sure. Although he’d never done anything to her, there was something about him. What was the word? Arrogant? No. Something else. When the three of them were alone, Sarah closed the door, and the women took seats across from the priest.
“You’ve got a problem with Harlan, Sarah?”
“Me? No. No problem. Well, okay. It’s just that… Don’t you think he’s a tad…”
“Imperious?” Carter said, trying to suppress a grin.
“Oh my gosh, that’s it exactly.” Then, to Fr. Donnelly, “What she said.”
“Well, he is a bit stodgy, I’ll admit. From the old school. But so am I. And he’s been a great friend to the Church.”
“How long have you known him?” Sarah said, genuinely curious.
“Ooh, let me see. Well, as long as I’ve been at the parish. More than twenty-five years, I suppose.”
“How did you meet?”
He smiled. “Another time.” Then, to Carter. “Are you Jewish, Carter?”
“Me? No. I’m, um. Well, originally, my family was. But with the anti-Semitism and such, they converted to Catholicism. I’m not really anything, though. Guess I never bought into the whole God thing. No offense.”
Fr. Donnelly laughed. “‘The whole God thing.’” Never heard it put quite like that. Well, prayer is a powerful arrow in your quiver, young lady. You might consider it one day.”
Sarah had been observing Carter and noticed she wasn’t in the least offended by the priest. In fact, she seemed fascinated. Leave it to an Irishman to charm the socks off a girl.
“So, Sarah, why have you two come?”
“Ah, business.” She grabbed the manila envelope that was sitting next to her purse on the floor, removed the photos and bible verse, and slid them across the desk.
“Those photos are of two different victims who died almost fifty years apart. Both were attacked by birds. Ravens, to be precise.”
“And what does Jeremiah have to do with it?”
Sarah glanced at Carter. “We’re thinking maybe the deaths were…”
“Punishment?”
“Exactly.”
The priest sat back. “Well, of course, the Old Testament God was a little less forgiving than Our Lord and Savior. Back when that verse was written, his chosen people—some of them—
were arrogant. Many historians believe the kings of Judah sacrificed children to false gods at Gehenna and were therefore to be punished.”
“By birds,” Carter said.
“Yes. And the beasts of the earth. Just a minute. I think I have…”
He rose and went to a bookcase. Scanning the spines, he found what he wanted and returned to his desk.
“This is the old testament in Hebrew. I used to be quite fluent. Let’s see.”
Sarah and Carter waited patiently as Fr. Brian paged through the book.
“Ahh, here it is. Vehayetah nivlat ha’am hazzeh, lema’achal, le’of hashamayim, ulevehemat ha’aretz; ve’ein, macharid.”
Carter was looking intently at the photos. “So, if God doesn’t do that sort of thing anymore, what about some evil entity carrying out a death sentence?”
“That’s very astute,” the priest said. “The devil can also visit punishment on those who offend him. You said one of the victims was recent?”
“She was found dead the other night in her apartment.”
“Oh, yes. I remember reading about Gail Cohen.”
“How did you— I mean, the police haven’t released the name.”
Fr. Donnelly stood. “Oh, I’m sure I saw her name somewhere. Well, if there’s nothing else, I’m late for a school board meeting.”
“Okay,” Sarah said. She and Carter rose. “Well, thanks for seeing us, Fr. Brian.”
“My pleasure. And nice meeting you, too, Carter. I hope we’ll see more of you around here.”
“Careful, Carter,” Sarah said, laughing. “Before you know it, he’ll have you volunteering to be a greeter at Sunday Mass.”
Carter extended her hand. “Thanks, Father. It was great meeting you, too.”
“Hey, Carter, can you wait outside for a sec? I need to speak to Fr. Donnelly privately.”
“Sure.”
Sarah smiled at the priest as the girl left the office and closed the door.
“I, um…” she said.
He glanced at his watch. “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Making the Sign of the Cross, he absolved her.
The Girl in the Mirror Page 23
