Edge of the Shadow

by Yvonne Montgomery

  "We took care of that yesterday during our little get-together," Andrea pointed out. "Right?"

  "I'm not sure it worked." Aura Lee was abashed. "So many things are happening. And I still feel Cottie, like she's knocking at a door, trying to get through with a message from the Other Side."

  Elizabeth nodded. "Maybe she's tryin' to tell us about these folks."

  Kerry stared at the two photographs in front of her. "So we're left with a blithe spirit?"

  "Not so blithe." Noreen frowned at the pictures. "What I don't know is how these spirits manifest themselves. Half the fun of traditional ghost stories lies in hoary old vapors and clanking chains. The things we have here are different. I grant you, Andrea's sketches can be compared to automatic writing. But I don't understand Andrea's seeing Neal alter to become Kelvin Haslett. And why at the Amphitheater?"

  "A haunting is a haunting," said Aura Lee firmly. "If a house can be haunted, so can a rock formation."

  Dolores nodded in agreement. "Believe me, the earth is alive, as alive as we are."

  Kerry's green eyes narrowed. "Clay is dirt that sticks together. Just because you have the vision to shape something from it doesn't mean it's a living substance."

  Dolores shook her head. "The things I make from clay don't exist until I shape them, yes? And the world the writer invents isn't there until it's written down. They're ideas. Scientists say an idea is a vapor caused by electricity and chemicals in the brain, a physical process resulting in a concept leading to a piece of art—a sculpture, a story. Every step of the way, the stuff used in those creations, the ideas, the words, the clay, all are alive."

  "Words don't stand alone, don't have a life of their own. Nor does clay, or ideas—"

  "Wanna bet?" Dolores inserted softly.

  "It takes the human element," Kerry argued. "Characters lie on the page until someone reads the work. Your sculpture stands there until somebody sees it. Messages are sent from creator to recipient, Dolores. You need a person for the object to have meaning."

  Dolores glanced down at her hands. "I've held damp clay and felt the pulse of life in it. Ask farmers—they'll tell you the same thing. Why couldn't rocks have been touched by what passed between Kelvin and Jessamine? Why shouldn't a remnant of the love they felt linger where they were together? If a receiver is needed to complete the circuit, you've got both Andrea and Neal in that role, both picking up those signals."

  The room fell silent. When the library clock clanged distantly, Noreen chuckled. "I hate to add Einstein to this theoretical stew, but either we have time folding back on itself, our time bordering on past events, or each of us is living one of an infinite number of lives in an infinite number of dimensions. And for some reason, at least two dimensions are intersecting."

  "What difference does it make?" Rose demanded. "I want to know what we can do about it. Andrea, you can't live in fear that every time you draw or paint, you'll pick up ghostly communication." Her gray eyes softened. "You can't have a normal relationship with Neal if you're waiting for him transform into Kelvin Haslett."

  "This Kelvin Haslett... why hasn't he passed over to the other side?" Noreen asked. "What does he want?"

  Elizabeth rested her chin on her folded hands. "My Auntie Olivia said ghosts try to complete their lives because they have no peace. Maybe we have to help him find peace."

  "Oh, is that all?" Kerry clasped her hands around her cup.

  "I've been thinking," Dolores ventured. "Someone could've done something to Kelvin. Like that Wheaton guy in the diary. He was after Jessamine, wasn't he?"

  "Yeah, the big jerk." Kerry opened the diary. "Don't forget, Kelvin kicked his ass. Maybe he decided to get even."

  "Could he have killed him?" Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. "What if Wheaton and his buddy Edward got together? Maybe they were both rotten enough to have murder in them."

  Noreen rubbed her glasses with a tissue, her expression thoughtful. "How could we find out?"

  Kerry turned the journal pages. "I could go back over old newspapers, see if Kelvin turned up later. I can try to find other source materials."

  "We already have source materials," Rose pointed out. "Andrea's sketches and painting." She looked around the table. "Maybe we've been missing the obvious. In every one of those drawings, Kelvin's in worse trouble. What if the whole point of the sketches is to tell us what happened to him?"

  Chapter 22

  After breakfast they separated to each work on her angle of what Aura Lee was now calling the Wisdom Court Haunting. Kerry muttered to herself about nonsense as she went to her quarters.

  Andrea had covered the uncompleted painting of Kelvin Haslett so she didn't have to look at it and set up sketching supplies on her drafting table. For two hours she'd tried to reproduce the landscape of the early drawings but had nothing but doodles to show for it.

  A tapping came from the studio door. Andrea glanced as Rose came in. "How's it going?"

  "I've got nothing." Andrea stood up and raised her arms overhead in a stretch. "It's hard to slip into a trance when you're not even sleepy. If Kelvin has any information to share, he's taking his own sweet time about it."

  "Noreen and I were talking about taking a walk. We've both been surfing the web, but we're too wired to be effective."

  "Tell me about it." Andrea pushed her hair back. "A walk might be nice. At least I'd get some blood flowing to my brain. Where are you going?"

  "It's a choice between the Mall and Chautauqua. Since dogs aren't allowed on the Mall, I'd guess Chautauqua. Lots of smells."

  "What the hell. Let me grab a backpack." She unearthed one in the cabinet and stuffed in her sketchpad and several pencils. "Maybe I'll find inspiration up there. None to be had here." She slipped her arms through the loops and settled the pack on her back. "Let's go."

  Rose went ahead to get bottled water from the refrigerator. "Noreen and Strudel are in the yard." She followed Andrea out the door and pulled it shut. A sharp breeze had her buttoning her sweater. "Everybody's edgy, waiting for something to happen."

  "That about sums it up." Andrea took a deep breath of the sharp air and looked around at the swaying trees. Everything was in motion, leaves fluttering, clouds streaming overhead.

  Strudel bounded across the grass toward them, leash trailing behind her. Andrea bent to rub the dachshund's head. "Hi," she said to Noreen.

  "Hello, dear." Noreen was in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. Her shrewd eyes surveyed Andrea, then glanced in question at Rose. "Are we ready?"

  "I guess so." Rose retrieved Strudel's leash and the dog pulled her toward the break in the hedge.

  Andrea pressed through it, Noreen at her heels. Strudel pulled on the leash and, nose to the ground, eagerly searched for scents, dragging Rose behind her.

  Noreen caught up to Andrea, her breath coming faster.

  Andrea slowed her pace. "Did you find anything online about Jack Wheaton?"

  Noreen shook her head. "Kerry's working on him. I started hunting for Kelvin's boss, Dr. Tweedham."

  "I hadn't even thought about him." Andrea brushed against a bush covered with tight pink buds, and a faint, sweet scent teased at her nostrils. Beside her Noreen's walking shoes crunched on the gravel road. "Find anything?"

  "Yes." When Andrea turned to her in surprise, Noreen shook her head. "Nothing helpful so far, but what I'm looking for is memoirs, or journals. The man toured the Chautauqua circuit several times, and anybody worth his salt in those days kept a record of his travels. If we can find them, maybe we could uncover an entry about his dear assistant Kelvin Haslett leaving his position to become a lecturer at Podunk University."

  "But then we wouldn't have any idea of what the sketches are about." A flicker squawked from the wind-ravaged blue spruce down the creek bank and flew behind a wild plum bush.

  Strudel chased a chipmunk into a thicket, only her wagging tail visible. Rose smiled at them over her shoulder as they approached. "I'm glad we came out. I feel better already. How about you?"<
br />
  Andrea shrugged. "Anything's better than sitting around waiting."

  Rose nodded. "I don't know how you've been able to stay so calm with all that's happened."

  "Don't get me wrong. I'm scared." Andrea's eyes narrowed against the sun cutting through thickening clouds. "I haven't been here even a week. If this stuff goes on much longer, I don't know what I'll do."

  Strudel backed out of the thicket and shook herself, tags jingling. Tugging on the leash, she scrambled to the bridge over the creek. "I don't know what any of us will do," Rose said, striding behind. "We have to get some resolution or we'll all go crazy from the strain."

  Andrea followed over the bridge, pausing as they reached the trail to the Amphitheater. It stair-stepped up the hillside where the trees were stirring in the rising breeze. It felt as if years had passed since she and Neal had come this way. "I think I'll go ahead, if you don't mind. I need some time to myself."

  Strudel had followed her nose into the underbrush, and Rose tugged on the leash to keep her from going too far and getting stuck. "That's fine. We'll see you in a bit."

  Andrea turned onto the trail. Her chestnut hair rose from her shoulders as another breeze slid down the slope and she dug in one pocket. As she went up the first series of steps, they saw her securing her hair with an elastic band.

  "This situation has been quite illuminating," Noreen said quietly. Her own hair had been swept into hedgehog disorder by the fitful air. "Coming from the greenhouse atmosphere of a girls' school to what looks like an actual haunting has taught me more than I ever expected to know."

  Rose watched as Andrea rounded a bend in the trail. "It's a leap, all right," she said, trying to decide whether the last few days had been more a learning experience or a nightmare. Strudel strained on the leash, and she started walking again.

  Noreen fell into step beside her. "I suspect what's been set into motion has lingered here for a long time."

  "And we've been unaware of it." Rose's voice was tight with frustration. "That's what throws me. Have we ignored earlier signs, or is it all because Andrea's here?" A dried leaf blew past her, carried on pine-scented air. She rubbed lightly at the cheek grazed by the leaf, trying to fight off a feeling of dread. "Let's go after her."

  Noreen glanced at her curiously. "She said she wants to be by herself."

  "So we'll go slowly." Rose shot a worried look up the path. "I don't think we ought to let her get too far away." Strudel took that moment to lunge toward a ground squirrel, barking wildly. "Besides, we're letting the dog choose the way, right?"

  "When one's course is set by one's desire, blame becomes the instrument of mendacity. Charlotte Evans Clarkson, eighteen seventy-seven to nineteen thirty-one." Noreen followed as Rose pulled Strudel to the Amphitheater route.

  "It's just this feeling I have." Rose stumbled on a rock and caught herself, kicking it to the side of the trail. Strudel trotted over to sniff at it. "I keep waiting for that damned other shoe to drop. It's driving me wild."

  "It's because we're all wound so tight," Noreen said sympathetically.

  Strudel had taken exception to the stone. She scratched madly with her front paws, trying to bury it. Noreen watched in amusement.

  At a glimpse of color exposed by the dog's efforts, Rose bent to investigate. The faint green tint she'd seen was likely from a mineral, perhaps copper. Strudel barked fiercely as she scooped up the rock and dropped it into her pocket.

  "For your fountains?" Noreen asked.

  "Maybe. I'll decide later." The flash of sunlight on mica captured her attention. She dislodged another stone with the toe of her boot, and picked it up. A memory stirred. The image of Andrea's stowing her sketchpad in her backpack combined with the purposeful way she'd moved up the Amphitheater Trail. "She wouldn't try it alone, would she?"

  Noreen glanced at her in confusion. "What did you say?"

  "She was frustrated because she hadn't sketched anything, and she tucked her sketchpad into her pack. What if she's going where she drew Kelvin before because she thinks she'll be able to connect with him again?"

  Noreen's worried gaze moved up the hillside. "I don't like that idea at all. It's one thing to be back at the house, but out here? She keeps drawing him in danger from falling rocks." Her eyes widened. "Do you think this could be the place where those things happened to him?"

  Stricken, Rose stared at her. "We have to get to her before she can start sketching." She leaned down to pick up Strudel. "Come on."

  * * *

  The telephone woke Neal from a dream. Opening his eyes did little to take him from a bleak landscape of trees and shadows. Andrea's bedroom was dim, so little light at the windows he wondered if he'd slept away the whole afternoon. He groped on the nightstand for his watch. Three forty-eight. He held it to his ear and heard it ticking.

  Getting out of bed took more energy than he wanted to admit. He pushed aside the curtains and saw a storm building over the edge of the mountains, clouds stacking like smoke from a fire. Neal wondered if Denny had secured tarps over the lumber behind the house. If not, they'd just have to deal with wet wood. He wasn't going outside to check on it.

  Neal had stretched out again on the bed when someone knocked on the door. "Yeah, come on in."

  Aura Lee burst through the door, Elizabeth right behind her. "Neal, Rose just called on her cell phone. She kept breaking up, but what I got was Andrea's in some kind of trouble. I know you're sick, but we need your opinion."

  "Rose and Noreen took Strudel for a walk," Elizabeth inserted quickly. "Evidently Andrea went with them."

  Neal's stomach rolled. "Where were they headed?"

  "She said 'trail', but I couldn't understand the rest." Aura Lee shook her fist at the ceiling. "By the Goddess, I hate cell phones! Just when you need them to—"

  "I thought I heard your dulcet tones." Kerry peered around the edge of the door and came into the room. "I've been looking for you," she told Elizabeth. Her glance measured the tension in their faces. "What's up?"

  "Rose called but the connection was sketchy. Apparently something's going on with Andrea." Elizabeth crossed the room to peer out the window. "The sky's getting darker."

  "Dammit, after the other day, you'd think people would have enough sense to stay here when bad weather's rolling in." Neal pushed himself off the bed.

  "Did you try to call Rose back?" Kerry looked on, worried, as Neal pulled on his shoes.

  "I got a 'no service' message." Aura Lee wrung her hands. "I don't know whether to call Mountain Rescue, or where to send them if I do. What do you think?"

  Neal told himself that they were probably on their way back now. Why didn't he believe it?

  "Neal." Aura Lee murmured in concern as he tied the laces and got to his feet. "What do you think you're doing?"

  He nodded toward the south window. "Look outside. If they aren't already coming up the sidewalk, they're going to get caught in the middle of something. I don't like the look of it at all."

  "But you've been sick, you're barely recovered. What can you do except get wet?"

  Neal straightened, ignoring his lightheadedness. "Someone needs to make sure they're okay."

  "I could go." Elizabeth frowned at him. "I'll go look for them."

  She didn't know the area. Neal remembered his father talking about the gully washers that came over Green Mountain in the 'thirties, of the damage done. Of the people who died. It didn't help to recall the earlier storm Andrea was caught in.

  Elizabeth came up beside him. "I got two words for you: Hurricane Katrina. You know we're tough in N'Orleans. I can just hustle myself up that hill and get those women down here lickety-split."

  "I can go with her," Kerry offered.

  He didn't waver more than a moment. "No. You can come with me if you want, but I have to go. It's these damned hero genes. You can't escape 'em."

  Kerry groaned.

  "Oh, like you would." Elizabeth punched his arm. "Let's see if our friends have enough sense to get out
of the rain."

  Outside the air was heavy but chilling fast, humidity thickening. The tops of the trees were still. The sudden absence of even a slight breeze had warnings skittering down Neal's spine. He ignored the wave of fatigue threatening him.

  Elizabeth was pulling up the zipper of her jacket. "The air's weighty, isn't it?" Beside her, Kerry fastened the snaps down the front of her sweater.

  "Yeah." Neal lengthened his stride across the grass of the backyard. "With any luck we'll find them before it hits."

  From behind them came a shout. Aura Lee shot out the back door, her shiny yellow rain poncho flapping around her like wings. "Wait for me!"

  Neal stopped short. As she approached, he growled, "What're you doing, Aura Lee? I told you it's probably going to cut loose up there."

  Aura Lee put her hands on her hips. "I'm coming. Live with it."

  "All right." Neal pushed through the hedge and started across Baseline Road. When Elizabeth put her hand on his arm, he frowned down at her.

  "Dolores is behind us," she said. "Hold up a minute."

  "What is this, a freaking field trip?" Neal barely kept impatience under control as they waited for Dolores. She was panting when she caught up with them.

  "Thanks." She fought to catch her breath. "What are we doing and where are we going?" she asked Elizabeth.

  "We're the cavalry, honey, and we're fixing to save our comrades in arms."

  Chapter 23

  Hikers scurried down the trails, some at breakneck speeds. Cars headed out of the parking area at the base of Gregory Canyon as dark clouds piled overhead.

  A gust blew back the hood on Aura Lee's poncho and she groped behind her head for it, finally turning her back to the wind to pull it over her hair. "Where are we going?" she shouted at Neal over the flapping of her cape.

  "Don't know." Neal leaned against a boulder. The shrubs at its base shuddered in the turbulent air. His breathing was labored, his face gray. It was a few minutes before he moved toward the bridge across the creek.

  Elizabeth had witnessed his struggle up the hill from Wisdom Court with growing dismay. "I know better than to tell him to go back," she said to Dolores between breaths. "He's just like my Lovell, always thinking he's the only one who can get something done right."