Shadows of the Stone Benders (The Anlon Cully Chronicles Book 1)

by K Patrick Donoghue

  Pebbles interposed, “Actually, AC, I think I’ll stick around here. My head’s a little woozy still. I think I’ll take a nap.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry, I forgot about your injury,” Anlon apologized.

  “I’m fine. Just a little tired,” Pebbles casually replied.

  In truth, the nap was a ruse. Pebbles intended to view the Master Stone again as soon as they left. There was so much more she wanted to know and…something had happened during her session with the Stone that she hadn’t shared with Anlon or Jennifer.

  She had hoped Cesar would experience the same phenomena when he viewed the Stone but he didn’t mention it. If it had happened to him, Pebbles thought, it would have been easier to talk about. It wouldn’t have sounded so weird.

  As she had told Anlon and Jennifer, when Malinyah spoke, Pebbles began to understand what she was saying. Literally. Though the words sounded foreign as they rolled off Malinyah’s tongue, Pebbles’ brain interpreted them as if spoken in English.

  But that wasn’t all. Right before Pebbles released the Stone in shock — Malinyah had asked her two questions, “What is your name, little flower? And why are you so sad?”

  Closing her eyes, Pebbles laid on the sofa and gripped the Master Stone. Her fingers began to tingle and the holographic visions commenced.

  Again, Malinyah appeared. She smiled and walked towards Pebbles. In the background, Pebbles could hear birds tweeting, the sound of splashing and the laughter of small children.

  Malinyah cupped Pebbles’ hand in both of hers and said, “I’m so glad you’ve returned, little flower.”

  “Are you really talking to me?” Pebbles inquired.

  The blonde goddess giggled warmly and answered, “In a way, yes.”

  “Oh my God! How?”

  Malinyah placed her arm around Pebbles and led her outside the marble hall. She felt Malinyah’s gentle fingers pat her shoulder and heard her sandaled feet tap on the floor as they walked. Arriving outside, Malinyah led Pebbles to a bench before the pool of frolicking children. They sat. Malinyah looked lovingly on the children and said, “Such untroubled souls. Such joy, don’t you think?”

  Pebbles smiled watching the boys and girls play tag in the water. The glow of the sun coated her face. She deeply inhaled the fresh scents around her and said, “In a place like this, I don’t know how anyone could feel troubled.”

  Malinyah reached to caress Pebbles’ inner wrist and whispered, “It is why I brought you here.”

  Startled, Pebbles released the Master Stone and leapt up off the couch. She grabbed at her wrist. It was still warm from Malinyah’s touch.

  “That did not just happen!” Pebbles tried to assure herself, “It was a dream. I fell asleep. A little too much beer, a little concussion, something!”

  Stalking to the kitchen, Pebbles filled a glass with water from the tap and gulped it down. Through the back porch screen door, she caught the aroma of fresh-cut grass and noticed for the first time a landscaping crew was busy about the property. The whine of weed whackers and the drone of ride-on mowers were in sharp contrast to the light, gentle sounds Pebbles experienced on the Stone.

  She turned her gaze back to the Master Stone lying on the leather sofa in Devlin’s study. The logical part of her mind resisted the urge to reconnect with the Stone. Inexplicably, however, a deep yearning to be with Malinyah clawed in her stomach. It begged her to reconnect.

  Pebbles ran outside onto the covered back porch and steadied herself on the wide wood railing. She closed her eyes and exhaled through pursed lips. Salsa music from the lawn crew’s truck punctuated the gaps between the mechanical clamor of their equipment. It would have been an odd scene to a stranger. A shaken woman trying to calm herself while an unrelated torrent of activity and sound reverberated around her.

  Then her eyes popped open, she pounded the railing with her fist and she sputtered, “Oh, F it!”

  Stalking back inside, she grabbed the Master Stone, snapped on the Port Stone and laid back on the couch. When her fingers found the side grips, she instantly returned to the bench with Malinyah. So weird.

  Malinyah apologized, “I’m very sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Pebbles found herself saying, “It’s okay Malinyah. You didn’t upset me. I just don’t understand. My name is Eleanor.”

  “Eleanor,” mused Malinyah, “a very pretty name. A name very similar to one of our cherished flowers. It is a beautiful, deep shade of blue. We call it Alynioria. I will show you one before you leave.”

  Pebbles still struggled in her mind to believe the sensations occurring around her. A voice from her intellectual psyche demanded answers. She said, “Malinyah, please explain. How are we communicating? How come I can understand you, feel you like I was sitting with you for real?”

  “You are with me, Eleanor. Well, you are with my memories,” Malinyah explained.

  “Do you mean you were able to take the memories from your brain and put them on the stone?” Pebbles questioned with wonder.

  Malinyah nodded and smiled, “More than just memories. Part of our consciousness too. It’s how I can sense your sadness dear.”

  A long sigh escaped from Pebbles’ mouth. She lowered her head and said, “I don’t want to be sad.”

  Malinyah lifted Pebbles’ wrist with the huddled angel tattoo and kissed the scar. She whispered, “No one knows why bad things happen to good hearts, Eleanor. But good hearts can heal, if you let them.

  “My people, we called ourselves Munuorians, and our land we called Munuoria. We suffered greatly when the other world kissed Terra. I, myself, died not long after its passing, as did my children playing in the pool before you. Such terrible, unspeakable loss. I know the pain that pierces your heart.

  “But my heart, Eleanor, it is light and filled with joy and warmth for the life and love I was blessed with. Even now.”

  Pebbles shook her head and asked, “I don’t understand why we are talking about this Malinyah. Why is it so important that I not be sad?”

  “Because, Alynioria, sweet flower, we have much to discuss if you wish to learn the secrets of the Stones and how to use them. But your heart must be light and untroubled or you will not understand,” she explained, as she stroked Pebbles’ cheek. “If you heart is dark, you will be lured by the seductive power of the Stones to control and destroy rather than their grace to save, heal and grow.”

  Malinyah’s floral scent wafted through Pebbles’ nostrils and she deeply inhaled the soothing aroma. The Stone fell from her hands and she drifted off to sleep.

  When Anlon returned to the house after dinner with Cesar at the Two Lanterns Inn, he spied Pebbles’ slumped figure seated on the back steps and called, “Hey there! It’s Friday. We should have some tequila!”

  She didn’t move and Anlon heard her sigh heavily. She called back, “Maybe later. We need to talk. Please come sit with me.”

  Anlon sensed she was upset, shaken even. He asked, “Are you alright? Is your head bothering you?”

  Pebbles uttered a wry laugh and replied, “It hurts, but that’s not what I need to talk to you about.”

  Part of her wanted to blurt out her visions with Malinyah, to tell Anlon what she’d learned. But somehow she didn’t feel ready to talk about that yet. Instead, Malinyah’s consoling words and touch filled her mind. Inside, she thought, “Okay, Malinyah, I’m trusting you here. Don’t let me down!”

  To Anlon, Pebbles said, “I want to talk about last night and about our earlier tattoo discussion.”

  Anlon lightly stepped up from the driveway to where Pebbles rested and planted himself next to her, leaning the weight of his body against her in an expression of affection. He didn’t speak though. It was the kind of moment, he thought, where it’s best to just be there.

  He looked down at her face, faintly lit by the warm glow of sunset. She had been crying. His heart pounded in his chest. What was going on inside her, he mused with empathy.

  She puffed out a long sigh
, clenched her jaw and rubbed her wrists. She said, “I need to tell you some things about me. They are really, really hard to say. I’m so afraid you will hate me.”

  Tears dripped from her face onto the stairs below. Anlon wrapped his arm around her and whispered, “Not possible. We’re a team.”

  Pebbles turned to face him, fully sobbing, and buried her head against his chest. He felt the shuddering contractions of her body as she let loose her anguish. She cried and moaned aloud. Other than the moonlight specter of her weeping in the meadow the night before, it was the first time Anlon ever witnessed her vulnerable. So much emotion burst from within her.

  Anlon’s resolve wavered, tears forming in his own eyes. Her agony was so deep it hurt him to imagine what she bottled up inside. From the scars on her wrists, he knew she had tried at least once to escape her pain.

  Pebbles withdrew her face from Anlon’s chest and stared down at the stairs, massaging her wrists. She said, “When I got out of law school, I met a guy named James Cunningham. We fell in love. I was engaged to him. He was a first year associate at an investment banking firm, came from a very wealthy, politically active family, just like my family. There was a lot of media buzz about us. Camelot kind of stuff.

  “It was late summer and we went to the Hamptons for the weekend and stayed at his parent’s beach house. We went out on a Saturday night to one of the clubs in town and met up with some of his friends. We all got wasted.

  “One of his friends hit on me and I slapped him. The creep hit me back in the face and a full scale brawl erupted…but James stayed out of it. We all got tossed out of the club. I was so drunk I could barely walk. I was so angry at James for not coming to my defense, I said some awful things to him.

  “I started to walk back to his parent’s house. It was seriously five miles away. I wasn’t thinking right. I had my shoes in my hands and he kept driving up next to me, begging me to get in the car. I ignored him.”

  Pebbles began to sob uncontrollably as the memories rushed forth. She managed disconnected words only. “There was a curve…didn’t see it coming…James never saw it…the car hit James’ car…he flew out…both cars hit me…”

  She gripped Anlon’s arm tightly, her fingernails digging into his skin. “He died! James died! I killed him Anlon! That’s what people said. The police arrested me! While I was in the hospital. My life…it was over.”

  Anlon laid a hand upon her soft hair and stroked while she bawled. He lowered his lips to kiss her brow, careful to avoid the knot left by Navarro. Anlon had imagined many scenarios once he pieced together her tattoo array but this was not one he contemplated.

  He felt even worse now for cockily demonstrating his deductive prowess in Los Cabos. He cared more at the time about impressing Pebbles, but instead he danced match in hand, unconcerned about the consequences, upon the lid of a powder keg. How foolish! How selfish!

  She didn’t need to talk further. Anlon understood.

  But Pebbles explained anyway. The charges against her were eventually dropped, but she was shamed beyond the ability to cope — by others, including her own family and by herself. She tried to kill herself, but fate intervened and she survived.

  Eleanor McCarver tossed away her old life, unable to bear the stigma and the whispers. She assumed a new persona and escaped her misery in a different way.

  As he listened to her, it amazed Anlon that the persona she escaped into was so positive, so hopeful. You can exchange stripes for spots, but underneath, it’s hard to escape who you really are. And underneath, Pebbles and Eleanor were inherently kindhearted, loving, optimistic souls.

  When Pebbles finished, she lowered her head and said, “So do you hate me now?”

  Anlon kissed her again on the forehead and held her tight. He said, “Not a chance. In fact, I really don’t think I could live without you.”

  As Anlon’s words filled her ears, Pebbles burst into joyous weeping. Unable to speak, she raised her tear-soaked face to his cheek and kissed him. All the while, her mind sensed Malinyah’s hand tenderly massaging her wrist. She offered grateful praise in mental reply.

  XXI

  THICK AS THIEVES

  Once the evidence collection team arrived, Jennifer took leave of Mr. Cho and walked across the street and down two blocks to the second of Matthew Dobson’s two banks. The visit was fruitless. There was no safe deposit box for Dobson and his account there was in every respect ordinary. At least she’d scored at one of the banks, Jennifer thought.

  Arriving back at headquarters, Jennifer stepped in her cubicle to see a pile of envelopes and the message light on her office phone blinking. Setting down her tote bag, Jennifer decided to tackle the voice mail first. She punched in the code to access her voice mail. There were three messages waiting.

  The first was from the forensic lab informing Jennifer that the test results for the evidence she collected at Dobson’s house were completed.

  The second message was from Officer Keller at the Meredith, New Hampshire Police Department. He didn’t leave a detailed message, he simply asked Jennifer to ring him back.

  The third and most recent message was from Mr. Cho. He called to let Jennifer know he’d emailed her copies of Zoe Moore’s and John Wood’s driver’s licenses. Mr. Cho explained in the message that customers seeking to open new accounts must present photo identification as part of the application process. The bank stored electronic copies of identifications for bank branches to access in case verifications of identity was needed.

  Opening her email app, Jennifer cringed. Ninety-two messages were unread. She didn’t have time to read them all now, so she searched for and found Mr. Cho’s message. Without opening the attachments, Jennifer whisked off a quick note to Dan Nickerson, a detective trainee on the staff, to print out the attachments and do searches of the uniform crime registry and national driver’s registry for Zoe Moore and John Wood. Before she asked Gambelli for permission to travel to Manhattan to speak with Ms. Moore, Jennifer wanted some background information on both people.

  Setting aside the rest of her email for now, Jennifer sorted through the packages on her desk. There were five packages in total. On top was the couriered set of bank statements for Dobson’s accounts at Massachusetts First Trust Bank. Jennifer wondered if poor Beckie had chipped a nail in the process of compiling the documents. She sincerely hoped so.

  Next was the aforementioned forensic lab analysis of the items taken from Dobson’s house, followed by a lab report on Pacal’s handkerchief.

  The fourth package on her desk was from the Meredith Police Department and it contained the copies she requested of Devlin Wilson’s autopsy report and the police report detailing the finding of his body.

  Last but not least was a package containing the cell phone calls placed and received by Matthew Dobson for the six months prior to his death. Nickerson had been assigned the task of identifying each number in the records, so when Jennifer opened the package, a summary he prepared was atop the listing of calls.

  Jennifer rubbed her temples and sighed. Yesterday she had too few clues to purse, now it felt like the opposite! Where to begin, she thought. As a professional courtesy, Jennifer opted to call Officer Keller first.

  “Keller here,” answered the voice through Jennifer’s office phone.

  “Sam, hi, it’s Jennifer Stevens returning your call.”

  “Oh, hey there Detective. Thanks for calling me back.”

  “No problem Sam, what’s up?”

  “You asked me to call you once we processed the GPS device you found. Just wanted you to know the only prints we found on it were from Devlin Wilson. So the device was definitely his,” Keller explained.

  “Oh, okay, that’s good information. Thanks,” Jennifer replied. “Did you get a chance to power it up? Was there anything useful on the tracker?”

  “That’s really the reason I called you. We did charge the device after forensics was done with it and there were a couple of interesting pieces of data. When th
e tracker data is considered in context of where you found the device and the condition of Wilson’s body, the coroner is now wavering in her opinion that his death was due to an accidental fall. In fact, I owe you an apology Detective,” said Keller.

  Jennifer jotted down notes as she listened. When Keller extended an apology, her head shot up at full attention. “What did you find Sam?”

  A sheepish Keller continued, “Well, it seems Mr. Wilson had pinpointed a spot along the trail just as you thought. The tracker shows his progress towards the marked location on the day of the hike, so we assume he viewed the mark as a destination. I went up there myself yesterday with the tracker to find the marked spot. There was nothing unusual I could see. Just a bunch of rocks.”

  “But…?”

  “But the marked location was still a good quarter mile from where he fell, or um, was deposited.”

  “I’m not following you Sam. Why is that significant? He could have fallen before he reached the destination,” Jennifer challenged.

  “Um, well…,” Keller paused.

  “Spit it out Sam,” she impatiently blurted.

  There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the phone. It was a hard admission for Keller to make because he so easily accepted the accidental fall theory. But the evidence found on the tracker cast serious doubt on that theory, and the only reason they had evidence to the contrary now was due to Jennifer’s initiative to search for other evidence and her foresight to have the tracker examined. Keller had thought she was howling at the moon and making a nuisance of herself. It turned out he was dead wrong.

  Keller said, “The tracker shows Wilson was only 700 feet from the marked location when his progress halted Detective.”