Remembrance

by T K Eldridge

  “You could ask your father,” Cami answered her, voice soft. “You know who he is now.”

  “Do I really? I don’t even know if we’re really having this discussion. It’s probably some morphine-induced hallucination.”

  “JJ is your father. He knows who you are - but he cannot acknowledge you - for your safety as well as his own.”

  “What do you mean?” Em asked, eyes wide.

  “The Order would be after you in a heartbeat. Ask your Garda about it.”

  “My what? What’s a Garda?”

  “You need to be more aware of what you do to others, Emlen. You race into situations with no consideration of the harm it does to others. Susan Clark is still having problems because of the memories you invoked. Daryl Simmons is now an alcoholic and is still unemployed because the information he gave you could only have come from him and he paid the price.”

  “I’m an investigative reporter, Mom. It’s part of the job. Those are what we call ‘acceptable risks’,” Emlen retorted.

  “Your gifts mean you have a greater responsibility towards the betterment of all. Not an excuse to abuse them and manipulate situations so you benefit,” Cami replied, her voice calm but strict. Typical mom tone when correcting a child.

  “What gifts? I have had to fight for everything I’ve gained, Mom. You’ve no idea.” Emlen turned away from her mother, anger surging through her again. The whooshing sound grew louder and then faded, a faint beeping filtering in through the fog.

  “You have gifts, Emlen. Blessings or curses, depending on how you use them. It’s time for you to go back now. Just remember this - it’s your responsibility to use the gifts wisely, or the price you pay will be too high. I love you, daughter. To the moon and ba…”

  Her mother’s voice faded abruptly and the whooshing and beeping grew so loud it made her clench her eyes shut. A shiver ran through her and suddenly she was choking, her mouth dry as sand and her body aching. Forcing her eyes open, she blinked and looked around at the hospital room, a hovering face taking her a minute to process. “Connor?” she croaked, and he tipped a cup with some shaved ice against her lips.

  “Here, take a little and let it melt. You’re in the hospital, Em. You’re going to be fine,” Connor replied.

  The ice chips tasted like heaven as Emlen slowly swirled them around her mouth and swallowed the little bits of water they left behind. He offered another tip of the cup and she took it, trying to clear her mind of the haze and confusion.

  “What happened?” she finally managed to whisper.

  Connor patted her shoulder gently. “There was a fire. Cullen got you out and I got the Rover out of the way. By the time I got back to you guys, someone had shot at you.”

  Em started to rise up at the word ‘shot’ but dropped back with a grunt of pain as she gasped out “Shot?” Her hand went to her side, feeling the thick bandages and the flare of pain as she touched it. “Who shot me?”

  The nurse came in and shook her head. “You need to be resting, Miss Brewster. No moving around for a bit. Don’t want to tear your stitches and staples now, do we?”

  Connor sat beside her and took her hand while the nurse fussed and checked.

  “Cullen,” she asked, voice cracking slightly.

  “He’s fine. Got a graze from a bullet, and they stitched him up. I left him sleeping in the waiting lounge. They told me you’d be waking so I wanted to be here for you,” Connor replied, voice kept low. “Don’t worry about the shooter.” His expression filled in the rest.

  Emlen squeezed his hand, whispering “Thank you” as she lay back and closed her eyes again.

  “Is the pain bad?” Connor asked.

  “No, just throbbing. My head still feels foggy and I keep trying to remember, but I’m only getting bits and pieces. Is the house gone?”

  “Yeah. The fire department was hosing it down when we left, but the roof had caved in already.”

  Tears leaked down her cheeks and she hiccupped a sob before her hand lifted to cover her mouth.

  “It’s okay, Em. Let it out. You’re alive. We’re all alive.” Connor leaned in and whispered in her ear, “I saved all the journals and your bag, and a few other things. Not much, but it’s something.”

  Emlen reached up and slid her hand around his neck, pulling him in for a hug. “Thank you, Connor.” Tears kept coming and she shook with the soft sobs, whimpering a little with the pain.

  A cough at the door and Connor pulled back, taking her hands and resting them on the bed as he looked up at his brother. “Hey Cull. Feeling any better?”

  The look on Cullen’s face as he glared at his brother was there and gone, but Connor saw it and winced at what he knew would be coming.

  Emlen smiled at Cullen and held out a hand. “You’re okay.”

  Cull turned to Emlen and gave her a warm smile in return. “Yeah, I’m okay. Looks like you’re going to be too.”

  She lifted a hand to him, and he moved closer, sitting on the edge of the bed as he took it. “I’m sorry about the house, Em.”

  A breath caught and she let it out, giving him a wry smile. “It’s only things. We’re all alive and that’s really all that matters. That - and Connor saved the journals and my laptop. That would’ve set us back a lot.”

  “It would have, but like you said, we all made it out alive and that’s what matters,” Cullen replied before turning to Connor. “Did you learn anything new?”

  Connor looked up from his phone and nodded. “Frankie was responsible for the fire and shooting you guys, but he’s not bright enough to have been doing it on his own. He’s working for someone and I’m trying to figure out who.”

  A memory tickled the back of Emlen’s mind, and she closed her eyes, trying to grasp the thread that seemed to answer Connor’s search…but it slipped away. A huff of frustrated breath had Cullen squeezing her hand. “You hurting? Want me to call the nurse?”

  “No,” she grumbled. “I thought I remembered something but it’s too hazy.” Again, she pressed her fingers to the bandages. “How long am I going to be stuck in here?”

  “Probably about a week. You had surgery, Em. The bullet didn’t hit anything major, but it did tear through your body. Give yourself some time to heal, all right? Connor and I will take care of things for you. We can bring you anything you need to sign about the house and all of it. Just rest, okay?” Cullen held her hand between both of his for a moment, then shifted so his injured leg wasn’t strained.

  “What about your injury? You need to rest and heal too. In fact, go home and shower and sleep. Please. For me.” Emlen’s voice softened at the end and she tugged lightly on his hand to pull him close enough to brush a kiss. “Come back tomorrow, okay?”

  Exhaustion had settled deep into his bones now that Cullen knew she would live. He kissed her back and started to rise, then nodded to Connor. “Hallway a moment?”

  Connor sighed and nodded back, turning to Em. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

  “No, you need to go home too,” Em replied.

  “I’ll be right back,” Connor repeated and stepped out into the hall behind Cullen, pulling the door shut behind him. “I wasn’t hitting on your girl, Cull. I was comforting my little sister, so get that thought right out of your head, all right?”

  Cullen opened his mouth, then snapped it shut and huffed. “Sure, didn’t look innocent. But that’s not the problem. You got Frankie, so that’s good, but like you said, someone else is pulling the strings and I don’t feel comfortable leaving her here with no one watching.”

  “I agree. She’s still in danger. They’ve tried to kill her more than once, and they almost did it this time. I’ll stay and see if I can get the captain to put guards on the room.” Connor reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys. “My car is under the lights to the left of the door. Go get a shower and some sleep, huh? Oh…and the stuff is in my trunk. Maybe think about where to stash it - somewhere that’s not your house?”

  “Sounds like a pla
n. I’ll see you in a few hours. And yes…I’ll bring the coffee,” Cullen replied and took the keys, heading for the elevator.

  Connor watched him until he got on and then pulled out his phone, dialing. “Yeah, Captain. Sorry to wake you but my little sister was attacked tonight. The perp that did it is dead, but I don’t think he was working alone. Can we get a detail put on her hospital room?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was close to seven in the morning by the time Connor had been able to leave Emlen in the care of a steady cycle of off-duty, plain clothes officers and the hospital staff. He’d got a ride home, showered, slept for a couple of hours and was now grabbing food to bring to Cullen. Pulling up to the house, he frowned when he didn’t see Cullen’s car outside. “He couldn’t have gone out already, could he?” he muttered, phone ringing in his ear as he waited for his brother to answer. A groggy “‘lo?” from Cullen had Connor relaxing as he asked, “Hey bro, where are you?”

  The sound of squeaky springs and shifting fabric filled the phone before Cullen replied, “Uncle Joel’s. Anything wrong?”

  “No, just pulled up to your place and didn’t see your car so wanted to find out where you were. I have breakfast. I’ll be there in a few.” Connor’s gaze slid to where Emlen’s house once stood. Smoke and ash lifted lightly in the morning breeze amid the ragged stone remains of the outer walls.

  “Connor. Connor!” Cullen’s voice snapped him out of his daze, and he shook himself. “Yeah, sorry, was thinking. What did you say?”

  “I said, please bring lots of coffee and some juice, Cullen replied.

  “Got it. On my way.” Connor hung up and set the phone aside, pulling out of the driveway and heading to Joel’s. That was probably the best place for Cullen to be right now. With Joel gone, no one would be looking for him there.

  * * *

  Cullen hung the towel over the shower bar to dry and ran his fingers through his hair. An old Northeastern University t-shirt and a pair of sweats he’d left here at some point replaced the blood and soot-stained clothes he had been wearing. Grabbing the first aid kit, he headed out into the kitchen and put it on a counter, trying not to look at the spot on the floor where he’d found Joel’s body.

  He’d called in a company to deep clean after the crime scene had been released and they had picked through the damage, throwing out anything that couldn’t be salvaged and setting the stuff that could be in boxes that lined one wall of the living room. Then they’d cleaned the place, even scrubbing the bloodstain out of the tile floor and fixing the grout. No longer any visual evidence left that Joel’s body had bled out in that spot, but Cullen could still see it every time he looked there.

  Taking a clean mug out of the cabinet, he filled it with water and tossed back a couple of headache tablets to take the edge off his pain. He didn’t want to take the heavy-duty stuff the doctor had prescribed. Cullen needed his head clear to strategize with Connor. Grabbing the kit and carrying his mug, he went to sit at the table and look out the window, waiting for Connor.

  When Connor stepped into the house, Cullen could hear him pause and take in the changes - the missing furniture that had been smashed, the boxes neatly lined up, and the scent of pine disinfectant that filled the place instead of the scent of sweet tobacco and woodsmoke that they usually associated with Joel’s place. He shut the door, spotting Cullen at the table and headed over, setting the cup holder down beside a couple of bags. “You look a little better,” he finally said, parceling out the food and pulling a jug of orange juice out and setting it down.

  “Thanks for this,” Cullen replied and picked up the juice, filling his used mug and downing it before starting in on the food and coffee. “I’m feeling better after sleep and a shower. Food should help too. Not much left in the kitchen after the cleaners were done.”

  “Captain got a few of the guys to do rotating shifts on Em’s room for the next couple of days until we can get her out of there. Plain clothes, no uniforms, so as not to arouse interest.” Connor swallowed the mouthful of breakfast sandwich and looked up at his brother. “We need to go over that stuff from Joel again. Maybe we can find something that tells us who is doing this.”

  “I’m betting on Jackson Junior,” Cullen said, sipping his coffee and leaning back. “He’s got to be the bio dad that Em was finding in her Mom’s photos. That, coupled with the journals and then the photos from Joel’s stuff…”

  “Yeah, that’s a good theory, but that’s all it is. Theory. We will need incontrovertible proof to go after a potential vice-president of the United States.”

  “We need proof for a lot of things. Like, did Frankie Kyle kill Joel? Who was he working for? Was it JJ or someone else? How many layers are there to this mess? We already know it goes back to before Emlen was born. Now, most of the primary sources from that time are dead or not about to talk to the two of us, even if one of us is still a cop.” Cullen’s fingers tapped the side of his cup as he sipped the coffee, feeling his brain start to churn faster as the caffeine hit.

  “More basic than that, where is Em going to stay now that her house is gone?” Connor watched his brother, taking a swallow of his own coffee.

  “I was going to say ‘with me’ at my place, but that’s not safe. I think she should stay here with one of us with her,” Cullen offered. “I have a feeling this place would be the last place someone would expect her to be with Joel dead. If he was alive, it would be different.”

  Something in his brother’s voice had Connor narrowing his eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Cull put down his coffee and wiped his fingers on a napkin before leaning over and pressing a knot in the wood panel near his seat. It didn’t look any different than any of the other pine knots showing through the stain on the walls, but this one made a soft ‘click’ and a door swung open. Reaching down into the space between the walls, he pulled out Emlen’s messenger bag and lay it on the table before reaching in once more and taking out a box, setting it beside the bag. He glanced up at his brother and then opened the box, taking out the items inside. The wax-sealed letter with his name on it, the velvet drawstring bag, the seal used on the wax, the silver handle tarnished with age, and last, an antique looking key.

  “What is all this stuff?” Connor asked, reaching for the seal and turning it in his hands. It was about six inches long and about two inches in diameter and looked to be solid silver. The seal showed two knights on one horse, Templar crosses on their shields and a ring of words in Latin “Sigillum Militum.” “Something…soldier,” Connor muttered and pulled out his phone. A quick search and he said, “Sigillum Militum, seal of the soldier.” His gaze lifted to his brother, expression confused but a glint of excitement lit his eyes.

  Dumping the velvet bag’s contents onto the table, Cullen saw a solid gold signet ring with the same design and words as the seal, and a pair of matching gold cufflinks. He shook his head then reached for the letter. “I’ve had this for a few days but haven’t been able to bring myself to open it. I get the feeling that once I do, nothing will ever be the same again.”

  “Want me to open it?” Connor offered.

  “No, I should. I just….” Cullen let out a slow breath. “…I’ve been having weird dreams and they all center around this symbol…” he pointed to the ring “…and this letter. I know it’s something big, but I really don’t want my life to change this much.”

  “Dreams? What kind of dreams? Why didn’t you say something?” Connor leaned forward. “Cullen open the letter. Just because you read it doesn’t mean you have to do anything.” He reached out to take the letter from the table and Cullen dropped his hand on it, pulling it back.

  “I’ll do it.” He turned the letter over and put a thumb on either side of the seal, snapping it open. Folding the pages back, he didn’t see words for a moment, just the familiar scrawl of Joel’s handwriting - the same scrawl he saw on birthday and holiday cards since he could remember. A slow breath in and Cullen started to read.
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br />   “Read it out loud, for chrissake.” Connor snapped after a moment and Cullen snorted softly before starting at the beginning.

  Cullen,

  If you’re reading this, then I’m gone. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to explain any of this to you in person. I hadn’t realized the time had come to do so until after you and Emlen showed up to talk about her mother’s murder case. I have known who ordered her mother murdered for years but have been unable to make any moves beyond that and I’ll explain why.

  But first, some history. I know you know the history of the Knights Templar - at least the history that is commonly known in academia. However, the Vatican’s history with the Templars is much different - and more recent. Over the last few centuries, members of the Order of the Knights Templar have infiltrated the church with the express goal of taking positions of power in the Vatican. They have also found seats on the boards of many major corporations and in the governments of several countries. Why? Access to resources. For example, the Vatican holds more rare documents and artifacts than any library or museum in the world.

  Anyway, the Order, as we refer to it, has several tasks it undertakes - one being the guarding of the line of Charlemagne from his second son, Charles the Younger. History states that Charles died without children, but that is not the case. He and Aelfflaed did marry and had a daughter. Later, they had a son. History doesn’t know of this because the Druids made a deal with Charlemagne at the time and while the Chartres Cathedral was theirs and his - the children were theirs alone. When the eldest was about five, the children were taken by the Druids and trained. Both were blessed - or as some say - cursed - with powers that have continued down through their bloodline.

  Emlen’s father is of that line, as is Emlen.

  Each member of the bloodline that has gifts is given a guardian, or a Garda. The Garda’s job is to protect the Blood from any harm and help them explore their gifts. I was pregnant Camille’s Garda. You, Cullen, are now Emlen’s. I failed her mother, and, in my shame, I failed her. I should have been there to guide her and protect her and instead I lost myself. Over the past three years, once I retired from the force, I had always been keeping a remote eye on her and making sure she had someone I trusted nearby. Rory Marks and Evan Ames are both good men who have acted as her security over the past three years. You can trust them. They will help get you up to speed.