Shepherd's Warning

by Cailyn Lloyd

  The door of the room swung inward. Two middle-aged men in blue smocks strode in, a nurse trailing, and quickly circled the table.

  “Mrs. MacKenzie, I hear you’ve decided to rejoin the living.”

  Laura remained silent, eyes closed, trying to slip back into the fog and away from these people, to be alone in her pain and misery.

  “Laura?”

  Someone lifted an eyelid and flashed a light into her left eye. Laura twisted away from the light.

  “Laura, I’m Doctor Ellerton.” He spoke softly. “Laura, I don’t know how much you remember. You fell and hit your head. You have a nasty bruise and a concussion. There may a small bleed in the lining of your brain. It’s important for you to lie still so we can complete the scan.”

  He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “If you’re worried about your granddaughter, Leah was doing just fine when I checked this morning.”

  Laura’s eyes flew open. “She’s okay?”

  The doctor nodded.

  Laura struggled to hold back tears of relief. She cried anyway.

  Leah was alive? A miracle and nothing less with the memory of her still, bloody form on the countertop forever emblazoned in her mind. It didn’t seem possible she could have survived. Laura relaxed, and the doctors performed the CT scan, tested her reflexes, asked a bunch of seemingly pointless questions. They then conferred in hushed tones in the corner. Images appeared on the viewer. As the doctors studied them, Laura started to doze. She heard one of them talking.

  She rolled over. “What?”

  The doctor with Ellerton embroidered on his smock turned and looked inquiringly.

  “Did you say something?” Laura asked.

  “No. We’re still studying your scans.”

  “Something about me being lucky?”

  “Neither of us said—” He stopped and exchanged an indeterminate look with his colleague, shook his head, and turned back to the scans on the viewer. Their silence puzzled Laura. If she was all right, why didn’t they say so instead of behaving in such a conspiratorial fashion?

  They walked to her bedside.

  “You’re making a remarkable recovery,” Ellerton said. “You’ve been unconscious for two days, and we thought there might be a small bleed in the lining of your brain—a subdural hematoma. Today it’s virtually gone. If all goes well, you should be able to leave tomorrow. The nurse will return you to your room and I’ll stop by to see you later. Okay?”

  She nodded.

  A nurse wheeled Laura on a gurney along a confusing maze of hallways to her room. The place was silent but for the faint hum of machinery. The rooms they passed seemed to be empty. The air smelled medicinal, clean, sterile.

  She was settling into bed when a thin bearded man in a baggy green scrub suit breezed through the door. “Mrs. MacKenzie?”

  Laura nodded.

  “I’m Doctor Lewis. I’ve been taking care of Leah. How are you feeling?”

  “Okay, I guess. How’s Leah?”

  “She’s doing great. She had a couple of nasty lacerations that required sutures. Other than that, her injuries weren’t serious.” He spoke with animated gestures.

  “But I saw her, she—she looked like she was dead.”

  “She was unconscious.”

  “But what about all the blood?”

  “A scalp wound. Believe me, they always look worse than they really are. Bleed like crazy.”

  Laura flashed again to the image of Leah bloodied on the kitchen counter, knew she would never wipe it from her memory.

  “As for the fall, small children are lighter and more flexible than adults. They often escape without serious injury. She was unconscious for several hours and, given the delicate nature of the suturing, we’ve kept her under observation. She should be ready to go home tomorrow.” He patted Laura’s arm.

  “Can I see her?”

  “Absolutely. Later today. She’s sleeping now, and Doctor Ellerton wants you to rest, so let’s wait until after lunch. I’ll send a nurse down for you. I have to finish rounds. If there’s any change at all, we’ll let you know.” He waved as he left.

  “Thank you, Doctor.”

  Laura lay back on the pillow, warmed by the reassurance Leah wasn’t seriously injured. Burying Jacob had nearly killed her. She wouldn’t have survived had Leah died. Accusing thoughts pointed an ugly finger. How could she have been so stupid, so careless with the life of that child? She should have left the house sooner, though she never imagined Leah would become a target.

  Tomorrow, that would change. She and Leah were leaving and never going back. She no longer cared how Lucas reacted. Things felt irrevocably broken between them. It was another pain she wasn’t certain she would survive. Thank God for Dana. For now, the love and support of her daughter would be enough. That and the unconditional love of her two-year-old granddaughter. Just the thought made her smile.

  As Laura drifted to sleep, Dana poked her head through the door. She looked tired and unkempt and was holding Laura’s winter coat. “Hey, Mom, I heard you were awake. Sorry I wasn’t here. How are you feeling?”

  “Okay. Have you seen Leah yet?”

  “Yeah, and she’s doing great. She’s a fighter. When I saw her that morning, I thought sure she was—well—how did she get there?”

  “I don’t know. I have no idea.” She took Dana’s hand. “So, where were you just now?”

  “I went to the house to get my stuff.”

  Laura sat up. “What? Are you leaving?”

  “No, I slept here the last two nights. Since you’re doing better, I‘ll stay at the hotel in town tonight.”

  “Not the house?”

  “I’m not staying there. Period.” Dana stared into space, near tears. “I’m scared, Mom. Leah could’ve died. And Dad is totally weird. He hardly talks to me. He looks angry all the time.”

  “Has he been here?”

  “No. Not once.” Dana nibbled on a fingernail. “You aren’t going back to the house, are you?”

  “No.” Laura shook her head. “As soon as I’m discharged, I’m taking Leah and leaving. Can we stay with you for a while?”

  “Of course, Mom. Don’t be silly.”

  “I have no right to ask you to stay, but I need a favor.” She took Dana’s hand.

  “What?”

  “Please stay and watch Leah for me just in case she’s released before I am.” Laura gave Dana her best pleading face. “A day or two is all I’ll need.”

  “I don’t know, Mom.”

  “Please…?”

  Dana looked to the window and back. “I’ll stay, of course I’ll stay. I don’t know why I’m being so…I guess I’m scared. Just don’t ask me to go back to that house.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going back there, either.” Laura shook her head vigorously.

  “Two days, Mom. Then I have to get back to school. Christ, you can scratch what I said about toughing it out there,” Dana said solemnly.

  “Right?”

  Dana’s forehead furrowed. “Did Ashley stop by?”

  “No. Is she here?”

  “Yeah, she said she was coming up. God, she looks terrible. Like she’s aged ten years.”

  “If you see her, tell her I want to talk to her.”

  “Sure. Listen, I’m going to get a room. I’ll let you get some rest.” She set Laura’s parka and purse on the Naugahyde recliner. “I brought these. I didn’t know if you’d need them or not.”

  Dana started to leave, turned, and said hesitantly, “Two cops were asking questions about Leah’s accident. I think they’re coming to see you too.”

  “Great, just what I need.”

  “Yeah, I bet. I’ll see you later.” With that, Dana disappeared through the door.

  What the hell did the police want?

  She decided there was no point in worrying about it, though until this moment, she hadn’t actually considered the question. How had Leah fallen into the kitchen? How had she gotten out of her crib? As s
he pondered these questions, exhaustion overtook her, and she fell into a deep sleep.

  Fifty-Three

  Lucas flicked the red icon and dropped the phone into his pocket.

  Damn it!

  Laura had regained consciousness. He preferred her dead or in a coma. If Dana hadn’t run down the stairs so quickly, he would’ve bashed Laura’s head against the floor a few times and finished things. Oh well. For now, he needed to play it safe and kick her out. A permanent solution was best, but any attempt would be risky. The police had been asking questions about Leah’s accident and other aspects of their lives. If something happened to Laura, he would be the prime suspect. He knew how these things worked. If she moved back to Illinois, that would be enough.

  For now.

  There was a thorny issue in the divorce. The house. He wasn’t relinquishing the house, but buying Laura and Ashley out would be difficult. He might have to work again.

  He was much more concerned about the danger Laura posed, certain she was responsible for the explosion and Leah’s accident. Nate remained in a persistent vegetative state and might as well be dead. Now Leah had been injured in a mysterious fall. Laura was closing in. He needed to be vigilant until he decided how to handle her.

  The guy who buried his wife alive had the right idea.

  Lucas smirked, threw his coat on, and sauntered out the door, headed for the White Birch Inn, confident the answers would come to him.

  Fifty-Four

  She was dreaming. Walking through the basement, following the old woman shuffling silently along the back hall to the root cellar. Laura grabbed her shoulder to turn her around, to see her face—

  “Mrs. MacKenzie?”

  —the face of Anna Flecher, a face she knew—?

  Laura opened her eyes. A plump nurse in bright cartoon print scrubs stood at the foot of her bed.

  “I’m Jean. Would you like to see your granddaughter?”

  Laura closed her eyes trying to see the face, but it was gone.

  “Mrs. MacKenzie?”

  “Sorry, I’m still half asleep. I would love to see my granddaughter.” Laura struggled up and tried to get out of bed.

  “Take it easy. Doctor Ellerton said you have to go up in a wheelchair.”

  “What?”

  “Sorry, those are orders.”

  After slipping into a bathrobe, Laura acquiesced. She did feel weak.

  The nurse took Laura up one floor to a brightly colored ward littered with stuffed animals. Cheerful pictures adorned the walls. Small children dressed in pajamas played in the hallways. Some looked remarkably healthy while others were tethered to machinery by tubes taped to arms, legs, even noses.

  They reached Leah’s room.

  Laura felt a compelling stab of guilt when she saw Leah lying in the tall hospital crib, and she struggled to hold back tears. Leah’s head and right arm were bandaged, her left leg bound with adhesive tape securing an intravenous line tethered to a blue pump at the bedside.

  Leah’s eyes lit up when she saw Laura, but she then sulked as if to say, Where were you while I was going through this?

  The nurse lowered the side rail, and Laura leaned over, talking softly and stroking her forehead. Leah responded to her touch, smiling, then struggling to reach her.

  “You can hold her if you like,” the nurse said.

  “Please, I’d like that.”

  The nurse sat Laura in a rocking chair, then picked Leah up and placed the child in her arms, carefully situating the tubing. Laura had difficulty holding her, her arms weak and unresponsive.

  They rocked. Leah smiled.

  Laura cried.

  Leah dozed off, and Laura, after her arm had fallen asleep, called for help to lay Leah in bed. She wanted to walk to her room, but the nurse was lurking with the wheelchair and nabbed her as she stepped out the door.

  Two men were waiting when she reached her room. One looked fiftyish, wearing a cheap and worn suit, the other man younger, wearing standard police garb. He looked attractive in a cop sort of way.

  “Mrs. MacKenzie?”

  Laura nodded.

  The suit spoke. “I’m Lieutenant Jensen, Auburn Police. This is Sergeant Thorpe.” He flashed a badge and ID, too quickly for Laura to read, and dropped it into his pocket. Jensen looked bland and humorless and held a fedora in his left hand.

  Laura spoke with an edge. “I’m tired. What do you want?”

  “Just a few questions. We know you’ve been through quite an ordeal.”

  She nodded and sat in the lone chair, exhausted and feeling hostile without knowing why. Why didn’t they just go away? She felt foolish for snapping at them. “I’m sorry. I’m just tired.”

  “We just need a brief statement from you about the events of that morning,” Jensen said.

  “I don’t remember much.”

  “What do you remember?”

  “I was asleep in the Hall and heard a loud noise in the house. It was about 7 a.m. maybe?”

  “Do you normally sleep in the Hall?”

  “Um, no. My husband and I were fighting.” Laura stared out the window at the grey sky, trying to remember. “I walked to the kitchen, saw Leah…I must’ve slipped and fallen. I don’t remember anything else.”

  “Nothing?” Jensen remained a blank slate.

  “No. I don’t even remember falling.”

  “Let me get to the point then,” he said. “There are some unanswered questions about your granddaughter’s accident.”

  “Like what?”

  “The crib was left open.”

  Laura thought for a moment. “No. No, it wasn’t. I remember pulling the side of the crib up and locking it. It’s a habit.”

  “Did you know about the trapdoor in the closet?”

  “There’s a trapdoor in the closet?”

  “There is. Any idea how she got out of her crib?” Jensen fiddled with his hat nervously.

  “I…I don’t know,” Laura said hesitantly. She looked out the window, noticed it was snowing lightly.

  “She would’ve needed help,” Jensen said cautiously, his face expressionless.

  Laura reflected, then realized the implication. Anger rose in her like a righteous sword. “What in the hell are you suggesting? That I had something to do with her fall? I said I latched the side of the crib and I did. And I was sleeping downstairs.”

  “Your husband has suggested you’ve been having emotional issues. He said you did this to prove—to prove your house is haunted.”

  Laura tried to calm her rage, afraid she might freak out or have a stroke. She needed to project calm. Sanity. She took a deep breath, then another, let it pass. “That’s ridiculous. He knows I wouldn’t hurt Leah. My husband is having an affair and wants me out of the way. Why don’t you ask him about that?”

  Jensen listened as he jotted down a few notes. He was tight-lipped, as if he’d heard it all before. Thorpe looked out the window.

  Jensen spoke softly. “Sorry, Mrs. MacKenzie. We have to investigate your husband’s complaints. We came to hear your side of the story.”

  Laura sat silently as Jensen studied her. What could she say? It was the house, but how could she explain that? Yes indeedy, some crazy dead lady or the house itself shoved Leah through a hole in the floor. A story that would merely convince them of her emotional issues and earn her a ticket to the happy farm.

  Stop it!

  Jensen slid his hat on. “Thank you, Mrs. MacKenzie. We have to go.”

  He opened the door, then stopped. “We talked to your daughter. She seems to feel your husband is overreacting.”

  Thorpe filed out. Jensen followed but turned and looked at Laura searchingly.

  “Is the house haunted?”

  Laura’s eyes met and held his gaze. “I don’t really know anymore.”

  Jensen shrugged and closed the door as he shuffled out.

  Laura was stunned and tired but not too tired to feel a bitter rage toward Lucas. His accusations were outrageous, a total b
etrayal and he knew it. The rotten miserable bastard. How could he? In her anger, she decided to find the best attorney money could buy and get court orders and injunctions. Give him a paper enema, Laura mused. Enough of this. She was taking Leah, filing for divorce, moving back to Aurora. It was time to put this place behind and start over. Lucas and that wretched house could go to hell.

  Her rage soon crumbled into depression.

  Things couldn’t get much worse. Nate was in a coma. Sally was dead. Everyone and everything seemed allied against her—Lucas, the house, the town. Carol never called. Ashley hadn’t bothered to stop by.

  Thank God Leah was safe; thank God Dana was here.

  They had always been close, more so than she and her mother had ever been. Still, she wanted her husband back, the one taken by the house or some faceless woman from town. She wanted her friends back. She wanted her life in Illinois back. She wanted to cry but couldn’t find the tears.

  Fifty-Five

  Laura was awakened by the rough prodding of a nurse taking her vitals.

  A thermometer was slapped on her forehead and her arm wrenched for a pulse.

  Laura protested, “Hey, take it easy!”

  “You take it easy, honey. I’ll be gone in a moment.” The nurse’s manner was cold in contrast to her earlier friendliness. After she left the room, Laura noticed other members of the staff just down the hall at the nurses' station talking and glancing toward her room. They weren’t very subtle. She thought she heard fragments of conversation drifting down the corridor.

  “—police came to see her.”

  Disapproving murmurs followed.

  “—bet it was no accident.”

  Laura soon understood. On the weight of circumstantial evidence, they believed she had caused Leah’s injuries. It had been a long and miserable day, but this was too much. Laura wasn’t staying another minute. Tomorrow, she would strike back, see an attorney and deal with Lucas. Collect Leah and leave. Her doctor in Illinois could examine her in a day or two. Her phone rang. Dana.

  “Hey, Mom, how are you feeling?”

  “Okay. Where are you?”