“It would obviously be a challenge, but I don’t see why we couldn’t at least try. Maybe we’ll decide we don’t even like each other after a few dates,” Megan said. She was trying to lighten the mood, but her heart felt like it was weighted down by a boulder. She’d known Angeline for less than a month. There was no reason on earth she should feel this emotionally invested, but she couldn’t help it.
“I highly doubt that,” Angeline said softly. She ran the back of her fingertips down Megan’s cheek.
Her touch felt like heaven. Megan tried to stop the words from spilling out, but her lips betrayed her. “I just think you’re being a little too fatalistic. Haven’t you ever seen Twilight? They made it work!” Ugh. Bordering on pathetic, at least in her own mind, but Megan feared that if Angeline walked out that door that it would be the last time she’d ever see her.
Angeline’s eyes glimmered with a coating of tears. “That’s not real life, Megan. It’s a glamorized version of a tragic existence. What it’s really about is loneliness and death and building a fortress around yourself. It’s not all bad, obviously, or there would be no reason to go on. But for the most part, it’s nothing more than a curse. A terminal illness, but instead of death, we continue to live while we watch everyone around us grow old and die. One day you realize that the only way to stop the heartbreak is to stop opening yourself up to it. I’m sorry, Megan. I can’t go through it again.”
Angeline grasped Megan’s face, one hand on each side, and their lips crashed together in a fury of heat and sorrow. Megan was speechless as Angeline pulled away and walked out, closing the door tightly behind her.
Megan stood in her kitchen as the quiet threatened to overtake her. Why did Angeline stay once Megan had woken up on that cold grass in the parking lot? She could have just saved her and taken off, and Megan could have just assumed some Good Samaritan had rescued her. But no. Angeline stayed and then showed up over and over again and smiled at Megan with that cocky smirk and made her want her like she’d never wanted anyone, or anything, before. She was thirty-two years old, for God’s sake. Stable. Comfortable. Content. And Angeline swept in and turned everything on its head. Megan sat at the table and cried into her hands. Angeline’s Mustang rumbled down the street, growing more and more distant, leaving nothing in its wake but the steady hum of the refrigerator and Megan’s confusion.
Chapter Twelve
Lowell, Massachusetts, 1948
The hospital hallways were dim, the lights low so they didn’t disturb the sleeping patients. Angeline walked nervously through the double doors to the cardiac wing, compulsively checking for the room number the receptionist had written down for her. The hallways twisted and turned like a disinfectant-tinged maze. She finally found door number 1032, which was slightly ajar. She pushed softly, the nurses at their main station paying her no attention.
The room was dark except for a small nightlight near the window. Angeline pushed back the curtain separating the beds, though the one nearer the door was empty, thankfully. She gasped at the sight before her.
Though the clipboard hanging from the foot of the rollaway bed read Millicent Vallencourt, Angeline would have scoffed if someone had pointed out this woman as her mother. Gone was the robust woman with the dark brown hair and judgmental blue eyes and a smile that betrayed her stern demeanor. In her place was a frail shadow, her once-thick hair thin and white, her skin sallow and papery. On her ring finger, the thin gold band with the small diamond in the center skewed to the left, her delicate finger no longer able to support its weight. Angeline remembered that wedding ring well. Her mother wore it no matter what. Gardening, washing dishes, scrubbing the bathtub. “The only person who’s going to take this ring off my finger is an undertaker,” she’d say.
“Who’s there?” the reedy voice asked from the confines of the hospital bed. That voice. Though it was quiet and hoarse, there was no mistaking it.
Angeline dropped to her knees, all muscle abandoning her. She stifled a sob as best she could, but tears poured from her eyes. “It’s me, Mom. I’m here. It’s me, and I am so, so sorry.”
Her mother stirred, opening both of her eyes. She tried to sit up but couldn’t. “No, it can’t be. It can’t be.”
Angeline reached up and clasped her mother’s hand. She brought her face closer, willing herself to stop crying. “It’s me.”
“Angeline. My Angeline. Why have you stayed away for so long? I knew it. I knew you’d come back someday. Everyone thought that you were dead, but I never accepted it. I never felt that part of myself disappear completely. Oh, my Angeline,” she repeated, cupping Angeline’s face in her arthritic hand. “My eyes are playing tricks on me. You haven’t aged a bit.”
“I didn’t want to stay away, I promise you. I just…I couldn’t come back. Something happened, and I had to leave. I would have come back if I could have,” Angeline said, the words spilling out. She had never been as angry at herself as she was at that moment. Why the fuck had she let Kathryn control her for so long? Why didn’t she tell her to piss off, and come back to Massachusetts? Was she really so afraid of death at Kathryn’s hand? Her mother would never have outed her to anyone. Deep down, she’d always known that. She gave up her one constant for an unsteady allegiance with someone she could barely tolerate.
“I’ve missed you. I feel like I could just burst. It’s never been the same since the day you went missing. If you’re in some kind of trouble—”
“No, Mom. I’m okay. I wasn’t, but now I am. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize what I’ve done,” Angeline said. Her heart, which she was so sure she had sufficiently walled up over the years, was shattering into minuscule pieces.
“Stop apologizing,” her mother said, grimacing in pain. “You’re here now. That’s what matters. I just wish I could be sure that you’re real.”
“I’m really here. Where’s Stella? Does she have any children? Why are you alone?” Angeline asked, although she quickly regretted it. No need to point out the fact that the hospital room was quiet and empty.
“Stella was here earlier today. She has one child, a son. He’s overseas. Somewhere in the Mediterranean, I think. Paul. He’s a good boy. Tell me, Angeline, are you happy?”
“Yes,” Angeline lied, tears still rolling down her cheeks. She wondered if her nephew even knew she existed. “Happier now.”
“Good,” she whispered, patting Angeline’s hand. “Good. I wish we had more time. But I want you to know that I never forgot about you, and I never stopped loving you.”
“I’m not leaving, Mom. We have time. I’m right here.” Angeline clutched on to her fragile hand as hard as she could without hurting her.
“But I’m tired, Angie. I’m so tired. It’s been so hard…”
Angeline closed her eyes. She wanted to hoist her mother over her shoulder and rescue her from this desolate and morbid place and bring her outside to watch the sunrise, to watch the dandelions sway to the beat of the wind. To stop at Elliot’s for a hot dog and a root beer, if they were even still in business. But reality was a cold and unfeeling beast.
“Rest, Mom. I love you and I wish I could do things differently. Just rest.” Angeline stayed on her knees, afraid if she let go of her mother’s hand she would spin out of control and fall into an abyss from which should never rise.
The clock on the wall ticked loudly, signaling the eternity that passed with every minute. Angeline felt her mother’s pulse grow weaker and weaker, but the dire prognosis on the clipboard told her that even if she called for help, no one was going to do anything. All machines had been turned off, and there were no oxygen tents in sight. Millicent Vallencourt was a dying woman, and no one planned to do a damn thing about it.
“I’m sorry,” Angeline whispered. Was it really possible that she had returned just in time for her mother’s exit from the world? That was the kind of thing that happened in soap operas. A long-lost child swooping in just in time to say good-bye. Yet here she was. Maybe it was true. Maybe her mother needed
permission to let her body shut down. Fitting that Angeline should be the one to grant that wish. “I’m sorry.” She repeated it over and over again until her mother’s hand fell limply onto the bed. She was gone.
Standing on wobbly legs, Angeline wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. She leaned over and kissed her mother’s forehead. Before the sadness could overwhelm her again, Angeline slipped out of the hospital room and down the hallway while the nurses began their overnight rounds.
* * *
“I didn’t think you’d come back,” Kathryn said, her legs draped over the arms of a chair in the living room. She didn’t look up when Angeline walked in.
“I didn’t think I would either, to be honest. I didn’t want to, if I’m being really honest.” Anger coursed through Angeline’s veins. She was angry at Kathryn, angry at herself, and angry at whoever the sonofabitch was who started this whole vampire nonsense. The constant doubt about making it on her own, alone in an unfriendly world with no one who understood her, was getting a bit tedious. Even after all this time, she couldn’t imagine living in a world where no one knew who—and what—she really was.
“I’m not surprised. Did you accomplish what you set out to do?”
Angeline clenched her teeth. She could feel her gums twitching. “Yes. I did.”
“Did she scream at the sight of her daughter’s ghost, or did she embrace her little baby vamp like no time has passed at all?” Kathryn flipped a page in her magazine.
“She died.”
Kathryn didn’t say she was sorry or offer any condolences, but Angeline was pleased that she knew enough to let it go. Otherwise, Angeline would have ripped her throat out. Tried to, anyway.
“While you were away, I did some soul searching. All those years ago, I decided I needed a friend—a companion—and I was lucky enough to find you,” Kathryn said, her voice dripping with sweet sarcasm. “Maybe you need something similar. I’d like you to meet Charlotte.”
“Who?”
A woman who appeared to be in her twenties walked out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel. “Oh, you must be Angeline. I’m Charlotte.”
Angeline raised her eyebrows at Kathryn, whose lips were turned up in amusement. “Charlotte is going to stay with us for a while. She’s photosensitive, so she too is unable to go out into the sunlight. She’s sensitive to our plight.”
“You mean—”
“Yes, Angeline. She knows.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. Your secret is safe. I’ve always been very interested in the paranormal, since I wondered for a while if I was actually one of you. It took the doctors quite some time to diagnose me. I went on a ghost hunting mission with Frederick Bligh once. It was life-altering,” Charlotte said, leaning against the arm of the velvet couch.
Trying not to roll her eyes, Angeline cleared her throat. “Did you see any ghosts?”
“No. But there was definitely a presence in that old house. Their equipment was vibrating and beeping and making all kinds of noises. It was really creepy.” Charlotte pushed the blond hair that had fallen out of her barrette away from her face. She reminded Angeline of Carole Lombard in Nothing Sacred.
“Well,” Angeline said, sighing. “I’ve had a very long and trying few days, so if you’ll both excuse me, I’m going to bed.”
She picked her suitcase up and carried it to her bedroom, which was a welcome sight even though she’d wished she could have just stayed in Massachusetts. She’d thought about contacting Stella, but she was pretty sure Stella wouldn’t have been as accepting of her return as their mother. There’d be far more questions, things she couldn’t answer. Her mother’s rheumy eyes might have shown her a young-looking Angeline, but certainly not just how young looking she actually was. Appearing on Stella’s doorstep was just too risky. Angeline wasn’t sure she could take the rejection.
She threw back the covers on her bed and sank into her sheets. Kathryn walked in moments later.
“I’m tired.”
“So you’ve said,” Kathryn said. She crossed her arms and leaned against Angeline’s closed door. “Charlotte is actually very nice.”
“I’m sure she is. But I don’t need you plucking people out of the wild to be my friend. That’s weird and insulting.” Angeline buried deeper beneath her blankets.
“I just thought we could use a buffer between us. We’ve obviously been at odds lately, and I don’t want to leave lasting damage to our friendship. No matter what I do, it’s wrong. I just can’t please you.”
“Oh, stop,” Angeline said. “Don’t be a martyr. It’s fine. If you want someone else living with us, I don’t really care. She seems like some sort of vampire groupie.”
“That’s not fair. She’s not. Just give her a chance.”
“I said fine.”
Kathryn huffed and walked out of the room, shutting the door loudly behind her. Angeline closed her eyes, but visions of her mother and the life she’d left behind so long ago played over and over in her mind like a film stock stuck on repeat. She hadn’t stayed in Lowell after leaving the hospital. She’d taken a taxi right back to Boston, where she got a hotel room for the night. She couldn’t bear the sights and sounds of her old stomping grounds, even though they’d changed drastically over the twenty-year period. It was too painful.
But Kathryn wasn’t completely wrong. Even though Angeline resented her and scoffed at everything she tried to do, there were times when Kathryn seemed to genuinely want Angeline to be happy. But Angeline pushed it aside. She’d been brooding for so long, she forgot what happiness even looked like. Maybe having someone new around would change the dynamic enough to reconnect Angeline to a world she had so reluctantly left behind.
Chapter Thirteen
Fog Hollow, Massachusetts, current day
The cell phone on her nightstand vibrated loudly. Megan slapped at it a few times before knocking it onto the floor. She reached down and saw Detective Nolan’s number displayed on the screen.
“Hello?” she answered, her voice thick with sleep.
“Megan? Nolan here. Would you be able to come down to the police station to have a quick conversation?”
Megan adjusted her eyes. It didn’t even look like the sun was up yet. “Now?” she asked. She was fully awake by that point.
“I’d appreciate it, yes.”
“Did you find something out about that night at the Gas ’n’ Eats?” Megan asked, suddenly concerned for Angeline. Even though she was upset with the way they’d left things, she didn’t want the police department anywhere near her.
“Why don’t you just come down and I’ll fill you in on what I’d like to discuss.”
“Okay. I need a few minutes to get ready.”
“Take your time,” Nolan said before hanging up.
Megan’s heart began to beat faster as she brushed her teeth and combed her hair. What could they possibly know that involved her in some way? All of the tests they had taken, along with the video, had ruled Megan out as a suspect. What could it possibly be that had to be done so early in the morning?
Throughout the drive over to the police station, Megan waffled between texting Angeline to let her know something was up or waiting until she was on her way home. As she was pulling into a parking spot, she decided that there was no reason to worry Angeline until she knew for sure that there was a reason to. It might have been completely unrelated. Doubtful, but maybe.
Prior to the gas station incident, Megan had never been inside a police station in her life. Except for that one time that her sixth grade class had baked cookies for the first responders of Fog Hollow and personally delivered them. Now it felt like her home away from home. Detective Nolan greeted her in the hallway.
“Nice to see you again, Megan. Come on back,” he said, holding the door open to the small room with a couch and water cooler inside it.
Megan took a seat on the couch and clutched her bag to her stomach. Detective Nolan spread some file folders out on the table in front of him
while pausing to sip his coffee.
“Coffee? Water?” he asked, holding up his mug.
“No, thanks.”
“Thank you for coming. After what happened here a few weeks ago, I left Fog Hollow and returned to the city, wondering if this would be the case that would follow me throughout my career. You know the ones, the unsolved murders that haunt law enforcement. But once I was home, with my wife and daughters, I felt like I’d be able to let it go after all. Maybe there would be a break, maybe there wouldn’t. And I’d be okay either way. Then, last night around dinnertime, I get a call from my boss, telling me that my assistance is needed in a small town out west. He thinks that I’m familiar with the town. It’s Fog Hollow, and there’s been another murder that he’d like me to investigate. Another murder. In a town that hasn’t seen any real crime in more than a decade. The good officers here are doing everything by the book but feel like they may be a little out of their depth with this one.” Nolan took a sip of his coffee and loosened his tie. “Now, I’m sure you can imagine my surprise.”
Megan didn’t know if she was supposed to interject or ask questions or what. Another murder? As horrifying as that was, in such a safe town, in her town, what did that have to do with her? She decided to just keep silent.
“Not only was another person killed, but their body was discovered just a mile from the Gas ’n’ Eats. A guy taking his dog for a walk found him lying in the dirt just off of Cobblestone Court. Take a look,” Nolan said, flipping open one of the folders and sliding it in front of Megan.
She gasped and covered her eyes before she could make out too many details. A man was lying on the ground surrounded by pine needles, his face contorted into a death mask. “Why are you showing me this?” Megan asked angrily.
“You know him?”
“He might look familiar, but I didn’t get a good look and I’d rather not. Who is it?”
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