by A L Crouch
“Okay, Mr. Helpful, you stay,” he said and then turned to the other officers. “You two. Jones, you keep watch from your cruiser. I want you patrolling the street. Call me if you see anyone, and I mean ANYONE suspicious. Conley, you get back to the station and log those pictures. I want to run that hand writing analysis in the morning.”
“Yes Chief,” they both answered and got into their vehicles.
“Will doesn’t have to stay. I don’t need a babysitter,” I said, knowing my argument was futile but still wanting to try.
“He stays, and that’s final,” Sulley said and patted me on the shoulder.
“And if I don’t want him to?”
“Now THAT would be a moot point,” he winked and then walked down the porch stairs.
I rolled my eyes and huffed as Sulley opened the door of his truck and then turned to Will and I.
“I’ll be back in the morning to pick you up, Kiddo. You and I will go see Brightman together,” he said, earning a smile from me. Then he pointed to Will. “You hear anything unusual, you call it in.”
“Got it,” Will answered and waved as Sulley pulled out of the driveway.
Will turned to me with a wink. “Looks like we get to have a sleepover. Let’s make popcorn and then we can take turns painting one another’s toenails.”
Rolling my eyes, I went into the house and let the screen door slam in his face as he turned to follow me.
“What? I’m lightening the mood,” he said and followed me inside and locking both the knob and the deadbolt behind him. He walked to the back door and did the same.
I went into the kitchen and got down a glass. I poured myself a small amount of wine and slung it back just as Will walked in.
“Do you want a glass?” I offered.
Will stared at the bottle in my hand for a second and then swallowing hard, shrugged his shoulders. “I’m on duty remember?”
“Right.” I said pouring more into my glass.
“Go easy on that,” he said. “I’m going to need you to stay coherent.”
I took another sip. “I’m calming my nerves. Plus, I have one hell of a headache. I’m just going to finish this glass, that’s it.”
He seemed satisfied with my answer and rubbed his hands together.
“Right, so first thing’s first. Do you have any nail polish remover?”
I raised an eyebrow over my glass. “I’m not painting your toenails.”
“Ha, very funny,” he scoffed. “I was going to get that marker off the mirror upstairs. You shouldn’t have to look at that.”
“Isn’t it evidence?” I asked.
“We have pictures of it and no prints were found. Unless you like it there . . . I mean, it’s not to my taste, but it does rather match the black hardware in there. Up to you.”
“All joking aside, just why ARE you being so helpful?” I asked. “No offense or anything, but you’ve always sort of struck me as kind of a jerk. Or at least that’s how you seem to want to come off. Why the Mr. Nice Guy act?”
Will shrugged and looked away. I knew I had struck a nerve.
“Because you never asked for any of this. You’ve already been through enough for one lifetime. And believe it or not, I can have a heart.” He clenched his fists. “And because your mom was always patient and nice to me, even when I gave her hell. I owe her one.”
His eyes were a dark well of emotion and I believed he was sincere. There was a lot more to Will Galia than I had ever thought and I caught myself wondering just how deep the well went.
“Okay then,” I said breaking away from his glare. “I have some polish remover in my bag upstairs.”
I kept my eyes averted when we passed the upstairs bathroom never wanting to see those horrific words again. Will turned to go in and I continued into my room. My feelings bounced between fear and dread to overwhelming anger and rage. The wine was beginning to help calm me, but my head was spinning in a thousand directions. Had my mother’s murderer been here in Saluda all along? Had I seen him? Passed him on the street? Spoken with him?
I reached into my bag and when I emerged with the polish remover I caught Donovan’s image in the mirror. He looked down on me, a worried expression on his salient face.
“Be careful,” he warned.
I glanced behind me to make sure I was alone. “Why, do you sense something? Is the man who broke in coming back?”
“What did you say?” Will called from the bathroom.
“Nothing!” I shouted toward the hallway and then looked back to Donovan questioningly.
“No. I don’t think you are in any immediate danger. But I do sense . . . something, about him.” Donovan nodded toward the hall. “You shouldn’t get too close. Something is off.”
“What . . . Will?” I began to ask but then stopped short when Will’s image appeared in the mirror as he came to stand in the bedroom doorway. I looked from Donovan’s image to Will’s, waiting for a reaction from Will, my words caught in my throat.
“Did you find any?” Will asked, oblivious.
I took a breath, relieved. Of course Will couldn’t see Donovan, I should have known.
“Here,” I said and tossed him the polish remover.
“Can I use one of the towels in there?”
“Sure, whatever you need. I don’t use that bathroom. Just get it off however you can.”
Will turned and went back down the hall. I looked back to the mirror at Donovan who stood with his arms crossed against the wall by the doorway next to me. Shrugging at him, I grabbed a pillow and blanket from the bed, then reached for one of my books and went into the hall. I paused by the bathroom, but didn’t look in.
“Is it working?”
“Yeah. It’s definitely permanent marker, but I think because it’s not that old, it’s coming right off with a little elbow grease.”
“That’s good,” I said relieved. “I’ve got a pillow and blanket for you. I’m going to put them on the couch.”
Downstairs, I set the pillow on one side of the couch and the blanket on the other and tossed the book in the center. Then going back into the kitchen, I finished off the glass of wine. I was exhausted, mentally and physically. Too much had happened in too little time and my brain was struggling to keep up. Will came back into the kitchen as I was resting my aching body against the counter, waiting for the wine to numb away what it could.
“You don’t look so good,” he said and leaned on the counter beside me.
“Again with the flattery.” I smiled.
“No, I mean it. How are you holding up?”
“I’m just tired,” I sighed. “I think I’m going to try and get some sleep. I don’t know how possible that’s going to be though.”
“Yeah, you should get some rest,” he said. “Don’t worry about anything. I’m right by the doors. I’ll hear if anyone tries to come back in. Jones is right out there on the road too. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Thank you,” I said. I wanted to correct him, to tell him that I had everything to worry about. My mother’s murderer was out there somewhere, nearby, and that thought alone threatened my very sanity.
“Help yourself to anything in here if you’re hungry,” I said. “Sorry I don’t have a T.V. or anything to help you pass the time. I put one of my books on the couch for you. Best I could do, sorry. I hadn’t really planned on staying here very long.”
“Thanks. Those look like Gram’s cookies over there. You may be missing a few in the morning,” he smirked. “And don’t worry about me. I can occupy myself.”
“See you in a few then,” I said and started out of the kitchen.
“So how about now?” Will asked before I made it out of the room. I turned and met his waiting gaze.
“What do you mean?”
“How long do you plan on staying now?” He asked.
“Now . . . I can’t imagine leaving,” I said and walked out of the kitchen. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Will smile.
Sulley thought that the attacker from tonight might be a different person from that night fifteen years ago, but I knew better. Even if Donovan hadn’t warned me of this “same evil”, I would have known. Those gloved hands that had come after me were the same; the furious determination to hurt me was the same.
I rolled up my pajama leg and exposed my tender ankle. The fingerprints, red and swollen were throbbing from where the intruder had gripped me. The skin there was turning a sickly shade of yellow and purple. Reaching up, I touched my forehead, about two inches from the hair line, and rubbed the now small scar that still resided there. This was twice now that I had escaped his grasp.
A tear fell from my eye and I wiped at it with the back of my hand. I didn’t know if I was more afraid or enraged. I thought about what Donovan had said earlier that night, that I had to see this thing through, and wondered what he meant by it. My thoughts were broken when I felt his warmth on my ankle. The pain soothed and relaxed. I closed my eyes and heard the gentle strumming and let the ache melt away.
“You knew something was going to happen, didn’t you?” I asked into the empty room “I saw it on your face tonight.”
“I sensed it. I couldn’t know for sure,” Donovan answered next to my ear.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, then opened my eyes and looked into the mirror. He was sitting on the bed beside me, his hand on my ankle.
“Because like I said, I am not meant to interfere, only to guide.”
“And protect right?”
“That’s right. And sometimes that means NOT telling you something.”
“You want me to trust you. How can I do that if you aren’t telling me everything?” I asked confused.
“Because you have to. You have to trust that if I’m not telling you something, it’s for a reason.” he sighed and lifted his eyes to mine in the mirror.
I looked away. “Am I going to find out who killed my parents?”
“I hope so.”
“Do you think it’s Brightman?”
“It’s a possibility. That’s why I’m not fond of you going out there to speak with him tomorrow.”
I looked back into the mirror at his concerned expression.
“I have to go. If it’s him, maybe I’ll know. Maybe this whole nightmare could finally be over. Uncle Sulley will be with me, and you. I’m not afraid.”
Donovan shook his head. “That’s what worries me the most.”
There was nothing to say. I knew that I should be afraid, and a part of me was. Someone out there wanted to hurt me or worse, the same person who brutally murdered my parents. But there was a new fear growing inside me that overshadowed all of that. I was terrified that he would go free, that he would never pay for what he had done. That I would never know who he was.
For the past fifteen years I had lived with the belief that this man would never be found and the pain of that knowledge was almost as bad as the pain of losing everything. Now he had resurfaced, and my desperate need for justice now outweighed all other fears of this monster.
“You need to get some rest,” Donovan said.
“That’s what you said this evening and I was attacked a few hours later.”
Donovan nodded his head, sorrow showing in his demeanor. I immediately regretted the remark. He had saved my life again tonight and for that I was grateful to him. The words to express how glad I was that he was here evaded me. I hoped he knew, even though the anger boiling inside me kept me from being able to say them.
“And for that I am truly sorry Alexandra,” he whispered. “But I can promise that no harm will come to you again tonight. You should sleep.”
Sighing, I switched off the light and laid my head down on the pillow and wrapped my robe more tightly around my body, not relaxed enough to get into the covers. There was no denying how exhausted I was. If I could only quiet my mind enough to sleep.
“Donovan?” I whispered.
“Yes.”
“Tell me about where you . . . live. Where you are when you’re not with me here.”
“You want me to describe where I was sent from. Where I exist in the spiritual realm as well as here with you?”
“Yes.”
“It’s hard to explain to someone who has never seen.” He sighed.
“Try, please.”
Donovan took a deep breath as he searched for the words. “It is filled with light, a brightness unlike anything in this world.”
“Are there more there? Like you?”
“There is no one else with me here, though I can feel the presence of many. I can feel Him.”
“So you’re all alone up there?”
“Not exactly. It’s so hard to explain,” he struggled to continue. “For me, every moment is with you: seeing you, being here with you, it’s all that matters. Not what’s come before, not what will come after. It’s as if I’ve only ever been with you.”
I felt my blood warm with his words, my mind wandered through my life’s memories. I could remember feeling him with me. Since the baptism, he had been a part of my life. Until the day my mother had died.
“Why did you leave me when she died?” I asked, tears forming anew in my weary eyes.
The strumming grew louder against my ear. I felt his warmth on my arm.
“I never left,” he whispered. “I’ve been with you this whole time, always. You just needed to come back here, to your home . . . to remember me, to remember who you are, to see that the accident doesn’t have to define you and your reality. I’ve always been with you.”
My eyes filled with fresh tears and I wiped them with the corner of my pillow as I thought back. All this time I had believed that I was alone, that I was wandering through this life on my own. How wrong I had been. If only I had seen it earlier, maybe I would have had the courage to come back home sooner.
All the years I had missed with Gram came to mind. I should have been here to help take care of her. How many more moments could I have had where she recognized me? And Donovan. Now that I had found him again, I couldn’t imagine how I could have ever forgotten him, especially when he had never forgotten me.
My mind swam in the space between memories, fading more with each one. In each memory I visited I heard the soft, gently strumming, playing like the score in the background of my life.
“Sleep now Alexandra,” Donovan whispered against my ear.
Chapter 9
I could hear the screams and the crunching of metal as the car came to a smashing halt against the great oak. The panic that rose in my throat as Gary’s was sliced open, raced through my veins and threatened to consume me. And then the serpentine knife came for me.
Donovan was there. He was with me, telling me to sink into my seat. But this time I didn’t listen. I wanted to see. I needed to know who the man with the knife was.
I struggled against my confines and strained to get an arm free. I inched forward, staring through the dark into the front seat. When the lightning flashed I could see that the man was wearing a mask. I reached out. I could almost grab it.
“Who are you?” I screamed as the blade with the snake handle came at me over and over again.
I didn’t feel pain, only noticed the flesh wounds sliced into my arms. I didn’t care. I continued to reach forward, using all my strength to force myself free from my seat even as the gloved hands grabbed at me and hurled the knife into me over and over.
With the next lightening flash I saw my bloodied arm reaching for him. I forced out one last bone-chilling scream and lurched forward and clawed at his face. As the blade came down on my throat, I ripped off the mask.
I shot up in the bed, my face soaked in sweat, gasping for air.
“It’s okay Alexandra. It was just a dream. Sshhh, it’s okay. You’re okay,
” Donovan whispered.
I felt his warmth on my face and I took a deep breath and looked around. It was still dark. I glanced at the clock; only just past 4 am. Less than two hours since I laid my head down.
“The dream,” I panted. “I could almost see who he was.”
“It was just a dream.”
“I know, it was just . . .” I stopped short and listened. “What is that?”
I heard something coming from downstairs. It was music. Piano music.
“Your friend seems to have taken to the keys. He’s been playing for a while,” Donovan said.
“Will? I forgot he was even here,” I said rubbing my eyes.
I got up from the bed and straightened my robe, then turned on the light and ran a hand through my hair before going to the door.
“What are you doing?” Donovan asked.
“I’m going to see what he’s up to,” I answered and opened the door.
The music became more distinct as it traveled up the stairs, though he played lightly on the keys. I recognized Fur Elise.
“Please. You need to keep your distance from him,” Donovan pleaded.
I looked back in the mirror, into Donovan’s worried eyes. I knew that there was something he wasn’t telling me.
“What is it that you sense about him exactly?”
He shook his head, frustration evident on his face.
“I can’t . . . explain it to you,” he said. “But you don’t really know him. You shouldn’t trust him, Alexandra. Right now, you shouldn’t trust anyone.”
“I’ll keep my distance,” I said and left the room, not looking back into the mirror. I heard Donovan’s sigh of disapproval behind me.
Downstairs, a single lamp on the piano shone like a spotlight on Will who was focused on his hands at the keys. I stopped at the bottom of the steps and watched as he slid his fingers over them with tremendous focus, missing the occasional note as he played.
I watched the intensity on his face; his mind was somewhere else entirely. His eyes carried so much pain and anguish that it made me want to reach out to him. I was eager to know more about him. Donovan was right, I didn’t know him at all. I waited until he finished the song before I spoke up.
