Edge of the Shadow

by Yvonne Montgomery

  "This whole thing with Andrea's been bothering me. I haven't been able to think about anything else. I was remembering some of the stuff I've read about herbs and potions, some of the side effects, you know? You'd be surprised how many things can cause hallucinations."

  Kerry and Dolores exchanged a puzzled look. "Potions? You're back to the somebody's-drugging-her bit?"

  "Not really, but I keep thinking there's something we're not seeing. I even went online looking into salt deprivation. You wouldn't believe what that'll do to you."

  "I'll take your word for it." Kerry picked up the pace.

  Dolores thought about the artwork she'd sifted through that morning. Nothing had remotely resembled Andrea's sketches. "The only idea that really bothered me was possession. You know, like being possessed by the devil?" Even in the sunshine Dolores shivered at the thought.

  Elizabeth nodded. "Yeah, I could see that perturbed you. For a minute there, you looked kinda queasy."

  Dolores could feel sweat on her scalp. She gathered her black hair together at the back of her neck and tied it into a loose knot at the base of her skull. "I'm sure you've heard me mention my mother."

  "A time or two."

  "Church twice a week and confession every Sunday. I don't know if she was always so dedicated, but after my brother died she needed the Church more than before."

  A cherry red Ford pickup roared past them, the three bare-chested young men in the back waving enthusiastically at them. The driver saluted them with the horn. Elizabeth waved back. "How old were you when your brother died?"

  "Eight." For a moment the daylight faded and Dolores was again the thin little girl outside the drama that was Reuben's funeral. "He was killed in Vietnam."

  "Tough break."

  "Yeah." As the youngest child, she'd felt the withdrawal of their mother the most. Sometimes it seemed the arched corridors of the church had devoured her like the whale had swallowed Jonah. "My mother believes it all. She was big on the idea of possession. When I was in my teens, she told me I was possessed by the devil."

  "God."

  At Kerry's exclamation, Dolores shrugged uncomfortably. "Talking about it yesterday brought it back for a minute."

  Elizabeth's wide mouth twisted in a smile. "What did your mother think about your grandmother's tale of seeing her father after he was dead?"

  Burning eyes and straight, tight lips, thought Dolores. Terrifying rage. "To her it was blasphemy. We weren't allowed to talk about it."

  "Honey, that must've been hard on you."

  Dolores shrugged. "It's probably what made me an artist."

  Elizabeth put one arm around her shoulders in a hug. "Well, then, I guess it was worth it, 'cause you sure are a good one."

  When they reached Clifford's, Kerry wanted to get bottled water. Coming out of the little stone store, Dolores saw the Columbia Cemetery across the street. Behind it the jagged profile of the foothills guarded the sleeping graves. In an instant she recalled seeing Andrea at the edge of the graveyard when she'd stopped to give her a ride. She'd glimpsed something. "That's what I was trying to remember," she said aloud. "It was a headstone."

  Kerry lowered the water bottle from her mouth. "And you're excited about this because?"

  Dolores waited impatiently for the lines of cars to come to an end. A silver Lexus paused for her to pass, and she headed across the street, Elizabeth and Kerry behind her. "I've been trying to think of a way to end the show, a climax piece. I saw something here that struck a chord. I just can't remember what it was."

  They entered the graveyard through the opening in the iron-paling fence. The grassy expanse was set apart from the traffic flow of the street, as well as the surrounding residential area. Here the clamor of life was hushed, leafy trees abating even the bright sunlight.

  Elizabeth surveyed the old city of the dead. "You really were talking about an end for your show, weren't you?" When Dolores didn't answer, she began to wander through the rows of gravestones, Kerry following. A magpie complained at their intrusion, flying from one tree to another as they went further into the cemetery.

  Dolores rambled toward the southeast corner of the graveyard. What teased her memory must have been seen from that angle since she'd stopped just outside the gate to pick up Andrea. Threading her way through the headstones, she tried to let her mind go blank so she could recognize what she'd seen. In a few moments she found it, an hourglass atop a weathered granite tombstone. An hourglass, she thought in satisfaction, a way of measuring time, the template for the hourglass figure, symbol of body image for women from birth to grave. Perfect.

  On closer inspection, the grave was that of one Sylvester Thomas Bedford, 1839-1905, Husband and Father. The hourglass was pockmarked from erosion.

  "Did you find what you're looking for?" Elizabeth moved toward her, providing a running commentary. "Listen to this one: Life holds no pleasures but in waiting for the Divine. Kinda sad, isn't it?"

  "Yeah." Dolores was imagining the hourglass form of a woman dressed in... what? What if she tried to make something replicating sand? How could she get the shininess along with the granular quality?

  "Listen to these names," called Kerry. "Ersie and here's one called Edrie." She came closer. "And Frantie! Surely that's not a nickname. Frantie. I've never encountered that one before. Emergine. Pretty, huh?"

  Dolores, with images of hourglasses filling her imagination, looked around for Elizabeth. She found her in front of a sandstone tablet under a maple tree. "Got a good one?"

  Elizabeth glanced up, smile crooked. "I was thinking how when you notice something, you suddenly start seeing it everywhere. Like when I was pregnant every other woman I saw was, too. This time it's sundials. I hadn't seen one in years. First was that sundial Andrea drew that freaked you out, Kerry. Now here's another one." She gestured toward the headstone. "Sundials are in the air, I guess."

  Kerry had come over to the grave. At the center of the square granite tombstone was an engraving of a sundial, lines radiating like the rays of the sun with a brass gnomon at its midpoint. Under it was written: Alice Thornton, 1892-1954. She lived at the edge of the shadow.

  Elizabeth sighed. "That sounds bitter."

  Kerry had moved to the adjacent marker and was peering at the inscription. "This is almost worn away. Here, can you read this name?"

  Elizabeth came up beside Dolores. "It's nearly all gone isn't it?" She felt the shallow lettering on the sandstone marker with her fingertips. "Stat-no, that's a 'n.' Stanley. That's it, Stanley. Thorn-no, it's longer-oh, it's Thornton, too, right? Eighteen forty-nine to nineteen twenty-something. Maybe a four, or a nine. The weather's done a job on this."

  Kerry muttered something under her breath. The tiny sprinkling of freckles across her nose stood out in relief against her skin.

  Dolores looked at her in curiosity. "You're pale as milk, Kerry. What's wrong?"

  "Who was Alice?" Kerry walked to the headstone on the other side of Stanley. "God, this one's more impossible to read than the other. Can either of you make it out?"

  There was such urgency in her voice that Dolores knelt to examine the stone. Much of its lettering had been worn away. "Betty? Maybe Bettina." She glanced up at Kerry. "Does it really matter?"

  Kerry frowned. "I don't know. Stanley Thornton was a widower. This Betty was probably his first wife. But here's Alice and there's a sundial on her stone. A sundial. Who the hell was Alice?"

  Elizabeth drew closer and put one hand on her shoulder. "Kerry, give us a break, okay? We don't know what you're talking about."

  Kerry blinked at her.

  Dolores shivered in the shade. She grabbed Kerry's hand and led her to a sunlit wire bench. "Come and sit down. Tell us what's bothering you."

  "I didn't mean to go mental on you." Kerry looked over at the headstone. "I've been reading that diary we found in the attic. The girl's name was Jessamine."

  She told them about Jessamine's life in Stanley Thornton's house and her growing relationship
with Kelvin Haslett. "The part I was reading today, just before you got there, Elizabeth, was when Kelvin gave Jessamine the sundial pendant, the one we found. He called it a talisman and he had one, too, a watch fob in the same design, only smaller. Each one was engraved with the words, Our Time. They loved each other so much."

  Elizabeth pulled a tissue from one pocket and handed it to Kerry. "Here, honey."

  Kerry looked at it in surprise.

  "Wipe your tears, jita," Dolores said softly. To her dismay, Kerry buried her face in it. "What is it?"

  Kerry blew her nose. "There I was, reading about this incredibly tender moment between two people who were so much in love it makes you hurt. Then we come down here and find that headstone. It just hit me that all those people are dead now. The love, the promise between them... all dead and buried. It makes me sad."

  Dolores patted her hand. "What happened to them?"

  Kerry released a shaky breath. "I don't know. I haven't finished the diary."

  Elizabeth stretched out her legs and leaned against the back of the bench. "So, what about the sundials? And the business about the names?"

  Kerry shifted on the bench. "The diary doesn't mention anybody named Alice. Stanley Thornton could've had a lady friend Jessamine never knew about, somebody he later married. But the sundial was Jessamine's and Kelvin's. It doesn't make any sense."

  The magpie that had challenged them earlier landed nearby in a flash of blue-black and white feathers. It cocked an interested eye toward them and strutted closer. Elizabeth stood up. "Well, honey, it looks to me like there's only one option."

  "What's that?"

  Elizabeth held out her hand. When Kerry took it, she pulled her to her feet. "We'd better get home. You've got some more reading to do."

  Chapter 18

  Rose slipped out of Andrea's bedroom and shut the door.

  "How's Neal?" Andrea asked.

  "Jerri said it's probably the same virus his son has, which accounts for the fever. He's dehydrated, so we need to push liquids. His housekeeper's out of town and no one else is at his place. I told Jerri he could stay here until he's well enough to be on his own. It's either that or the hospital. She'll send a visiting nurse to check on him tonight."

  Andrea rubbed a sore spot on her arm, trying to avoid the memory of Neal's hands clutching at her. By tomorrow she'd have bruises. "He'll stay in my room?"

  "I hope you don't mind." Rose pushed gray-blonde curls away from her face in a harried gesture. "We can set up a cot somewhere for you, at least for tonight. I don't think moving him is the best thing."

  "No, of course not." Andrea thought about getting what she'd need for the night, and decided to deal with it later.

  Rose's gray eyes sharpened. "Andrea, you still haven't said much about what happened. You're okay, right?"

  "I guess so." The jump from desire to terror had been hard enough without the ongoing sense of connection she felt with Neal. She saw the deepening concern in Rose's face. "I'm fine."

  "Okay. I won't hover. If you want to talk, I'll be here." Rose glanced at her watch. "Except for the next couple of hours. I've got a meeting at the bank. What a day." She headed for the stairs. "I need to check with Aura Lee before I go. Come with me while I let her know what's going on."

  After giving Aura Lee a quick update, Rose raced off to change clothes for her appointment.

  Aura Lee led Andrea to her own living area. Strudel barked in welcome, tail wagging madly. "Come in, child. You need to get away from the fuss. You've had no time to settle in at all. You can relax here for a while."

  Her parlor was crowded with bits and pieces collected over a lifetime. One window held glass shelves where crystal animals bent the sun into glimmering colors.

  Aura Lee urged her into a gold damask chair and nudged a fringed footstool under her feet. Strudel put her forepaws on the chair cushion and barked. Andrea lifted the little dog up to sit beside her. Laying her head on Andrea's lap she gazed at her with deep brown eyes, and Andrea petted her.

  "Rest for a minute while I check on Neal," said Aura Lee. "I won't be gone long."

  Aura Lee returned twenty minutes later with tea. "Neal's asleep."

  She made room for the tray on the ebony table at Andrea's feet. "Put these there beside you." She handed across a stack of paper and pens and Andrea set them on the drum table next to her chair.

  Aura Lee handed her a cup. "Chamomile with honey and lavender. It's very soothing."

  "Thanks." Andrea took a closer look at the bronze sculpture beside her. From a broken Humpty-Dumpty egg arose a slender dinosaur dressed in a flowing gown. In the bend of one scaly arm lay scrolls; the other held a potted plant.

  "It's Athena springing from the head of Zeus." Aura Lee settled into the mission armchair, sighing as the red cushions adjusted to her weight. "Jane Bridgewell, an associate here a few years ago, made it. She ruined me for being able to see the Greek pantheon any differently."

  Andrea wondered uneasily if she'd start linking the gods with Jurassic Park. A brass candelabrum on the pocket organ in the corner caught her eye. "I didn't know you played the organ."

  Aura Lee followed her gaze. "I don't. That was my mother's. I tried to learn but hated the practicing. It's a waste, but having it there reminds me of Mama. Drink your tea before it gets cold."

  Andrea obeyed. "It's very good." She cradled the blue cup to warm her hands. "You don't need to coddle me, you know. I'm sure you have tons to do."

  "Don't be silly." Aura Lee's smile was kind. "You've been in an energy storm since you got here. Wouldn't it be interesting to throw the I Ching for clues?"

  Her chair was sinfully comfortable. Andrea nestled deeper into it and Strudel cuddled against her. "I wouldn't know what they meant."

  "And you an artist? You don't have to believe in order to gain its benefits. Of course," she added in a thoughtful voice, "it helps."

  "I think I believe in afternoon tea." Andrea sipped from her cup again. "It's so civilized."

  "Cottie insisted on it. She said it was the best part of her heritage."

  "She was English?"

  Aura Lee's eyes crinkled. "Oh, my, yes. She never talked about it but you couldn't mistake her for anything else. She had the most lovely accent."

  "What part of England did she come from?"

  "I don't know. She was closemouthed about her early life. As we got older, I asked more than once if she had any family members who should be notified..." Aura Lee paused. She shook her head and heaved a sigh. "The only thing Cottie ever said was 'All in bad time, Aurelia. All in bad time.' Then she'd smile one of her vague smiles and that would be that."

  The sadness in her voice suggested a change of subject. "All in bad time?"

  Aura Lee chuckled. "It was her little joke. The old clock in the foyer has been seventeen minutes fast as long as I've been here. She meant to have it repaired but never got around to it. Every time it chimes it reminds me of her." She sipped her tea. "There's something about clocks in this house anyway. The one in the library will only strike eight bells, no matter what time it is. I used to think it might be a sign of supernatural interference, but that's anybody's guess."

  Andrea suppressed a smile at the thought of a haunted clock. Then she realized that Aura Lee had spoken again. "What did you say?"

  Aura Lee carefully poured more tea into her cup. "I asked if you'd help me out with something, though I'm a little nervous about involving you."

  "What did you have in mind?"

  "You were at the séance, of course."

  Andrea nodded.

  "You recall the invitation to the spirits? We opened the door to them. Ordinarily you wrap up everything at the end of the séance, but we got so excited because of the wind and Strudel that... well, we didn't close the circle."

  "And that's a problem?"

  Aura Lee's eyes widened. "Oh, yes! I'm not saying the spirits who attended were bad or anything, but we don't really know. It was a blanket invitation, after all.
If some of them are dubious in nature, then we have to encourage them to return to the Other Side." She leaned toward Andrea with an anxious face. "I've been so worried about it. Would you be willing to help me with the ritual?"

  Andrea groaned inwardly. "What's involved?"

  "First we need to name the directions again and sort of reestablish the circle, if you see what I mean."

  Andrea wanted to say no, she didn't want to go through the charade. Another glance at Aura Lee's pleading eyes stopped her. "All right."

  "We need to breathe deeply." Aura Lee said apologetically. She struck a match and lit one of the candles. From a low shelf under the window she pulled a bound clump of dried, silvery leaves and held it to the candle's flame. "It's a sage smudge. To cleanse the room."

  Soon smoke veiled the air. Andrea thought it smelled like marijuana.

  Aura Lee put the smudge in a pottery bowl and moved it to one side of the table. The salver she took from another shelf was piled with dried leaves. "I'm using my own mix of herbs to summon the spirits. Balm of Gilead, mastic, and dittany are what people typically use, but I've added some mullein as well, just to be safe." She placed the mixture at the center of the table. "Now we call the Guardians."

  As at the séance, each of the guardians of the four directions was asked to protect and bind the circle. "Even if our circle is a little sparse," Aura Lee whispered in an aside.

  Andrea coughed.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, Aura Lee swayed as she intoned, "We ask the shades summoned two nights ago to assemble here. We mean you no harm. The door is open still. We invite you to pass through that doorway to return whence you came. You are needed on the Other Side."

  Andrea's eyes were watering at the thickening smoke. She heard Aura Lee begin the chant again. A cough welled up in her throat and she reached hastily for the teacup beside her. Ignoring Aura Lee's reproachful face, Andrea gulped the tea and replaced the cup.

  "We welcome all summoned to our circle. We were remiss in not helping you cross back to the Other Side." Aura Lee's voice boomed out now, as if she addressed a congregation. "We welcomed your aid. Now we pray for your safe passage."