A Haunted Twist of Fate

by Stacey Coverstone

  May God forgive me.

  Grace Brennan

  Shay stared at the letter for a long time. When tears began to roll down her cheeks, Colt rose from his chair and knelt in front of her on his knees. He placed his hand on her leg and squeezed. “Now it all makes sense. Fate did bring you here.”

  “I’m Frank’s granddaughter,” she whispered. “I’m an Averill.”

  Colt smiled. “So you are. You’re a South Dakotan, like me.”

  After several more moments of silence and trying to comprehend it all, Shay said, “We have to tell him.”

  “We can go see him whenever you want.”

  Standing up, she folded the letter carefully into thirds. “Let’s go now.”

  Forty-Six

  Frank didn’t react the way Shay had expected when she told him the news. With Colt by her side, she’d read the letter to Frank, pausing periodically to check his reaction and to make sure the revelation was not too much for his heart to take.

  Today, as it turned out, was one of his better days. He smiled and reached for her hand. “I felt a connection the first day Colt brought you here. You looked like my Grandma Cynthia, but I didn’t need my bifocals to see that you’re the spitting image of Alicia. Colt saw it, too, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. I didn’t know how to explain it, but I saw the resemblance right off.”

  “Funny how I didn’t,” Shay said.

  “Your mind probably wouldn’t let you,” Colt suggested. “In a million years, you never would have fathomed you had a family connection here in South Dakota. Or with Frank.”

  Learning her parents’ secret had been like being hit by a Mack truck. It was going to take time to heal from the impact and accept the notion that the two people who had provided her with all she’d ever wanted and loved her so deeply could have been capable of deceiving Frank and his wife for their own selfish purposes. Shay wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to think of her mom and dad in the same way again. It made her heartsick.

  Alicia was her birth mother, but Alex and Grace were the only parents she’d ever known. She wondered how different her life would have been had Alicia lived. Would Alicia have returned to South Dakota eventually? Would Shay have grown up here and been close to Frank and Bonnie? Would she and Colt have met earlier in life? Her heart ached for the two families she’d lost.

  And who was the man who had fathered her and then abandoned Alicia? “Frank, do you remember anything about the man Alicia—my mother—ran away with?”

  “Does it make you feel good to call her that?” he asked, smiling. “She was your mother.”

  Shay now knew the truth, but it didn’t make things easier. She was more perplexed than ever. She didn’t want to hurt Frank, but she also didn’t want to betray the memory of Grace, the only mother she’d known. She smiled. “Yes. It’s good to know the truth. Do you remember what the man’s name was, or what he looked like? Anything about him?”

  “I don’t think I was ever told his name. He was too old for my Alicia, I remember that much. I wanted to kick him from here to Sunday when I found out he’d been sneaking behind our backs with our little girl.”

  Shay sighed and realized she’d probably never know anything about her birth father. Did it matter anyway? A couple of hours ago, she’d been Shay Brennan, daughter of Alex and Grace Brennan of Chicago. Now who was she? A Brennan or an Averill?

  She looked at Colt. He stared at her in that deep, intense way, as if he could read her mind. When he winked, she realized the question was irrelevant. She was her own person. It didn’t matter what her name was. What she did with her life was what counted.

  Frank pointed to the framed photo of Alicia sitting on his dresser. “Colt, can you get that for me?”

  He handed the frame to Frank, who handed it to Shay. “I’ve been looking at her picture for thirty-three years. It’s your turn now.”

  Shay gazed at the face staring back at her. She didn’t know how she’d not seen the likeness before. It was as if she were looking at her reflection in a mirror. The hue of their eyes, the color and thickness of their hair, the shape of their mouths. They were the same.

  “Thank you.” She hugged the frame to her chest. “I’ll treasure it always.”

  Frank nodded and looked pleased. He breathed a sigh of relief and looked happier and more at peace than she’d seen him since they’d met. She kissed his cheek and promised him she’d come by tomorrow.

  As she and Colt strolled to the car, he stopped her and said, “I have something to tell you.”

  “Can it wait? Opal is watching us from the window.” A smile crossed Shay’s lips. Although in some ways her life had just become more complex, her body felt as light as air. A big secret had been exposed, and she hadn’t fallen apart. It was not the end of the world. Her parents and her godfather had deceived her, but it wasn’t as if they’d committed a crime against Alicia. In fact, her mom and dad had done all they could to help her birth mother. They’d given Alicia’s daughter a loving home and financially set her up for life. How could Shay be angry with them?

  She slid onto the car seat. “Opal can’t see us now. What was it you wanted to say?” Just then, her cell phone rang. “Excuse me, Colt.”

  He laid his back against the seat and blew air out of his mouth, like a horse.

  She cast him a sideways glance. “Hello. Oh, hi, Brenda. Yes, I was going to get back to you. I’ve been preoccupied with another matter, but it’s just been resolved. I’m ready to get together with you. Tonight? That will be great. Okay. I’ll see you shortly before midnight. Bye-bye.” She flipped her cell phone shut and smiled. “That was Brenda.”

  “I heard. What’s happening at midnight tonight?”

  “She’s coming to the saloon. She’ll be sending the ghosts into the light, and hopefully putting an end to the haunting. I pray it works. I need to get back to a normal life.”

  She started the car and backed out of the driveway and drove to his house. When she parked in the drive, she asked, “What was it you wanted to say at Frank’s? You kept getting interrupted.”

  Colt twisted his body to face her. His face was open and warm. He took her hand and held it. “Shay, I know we’ve been having our ups and downs the past couple of days, but through it all, my feelings for you haven’t changed, and they’re not going to change. I love you, and I want you to know that I’m always going to be here for you. I would never hurt you. Once I make a promise, I keep it. I’m a man of my word. I will be patient. I will treat you with the utmost kindness and respect. And I’ll give you all the time you need to fall in love as deeply with me as I am with you.” He scooted as close as possible to her without bumping his cast. “I only want your happiness.”

  When he cradled her face in one palm and kissed her tenderly, she squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks. Too overwhelmed to speak, she melted into his good shoulder and let him hold her.

  Forty-Seven

  At fifteen minutes before midnight, Shay shut off all the lights except for the ones in the main room, and waited for Brenda. She heard murmurs and the slapping down of cards right before Brenda arrived. Even the piano plinked out a few notes, which spooked her.

  “The cigar smell is strong in here,” Brenda said, upon entering and removing her sweater. She handed Shay a flashlight and they clicked them on. “You can switch the main lights off. The spirits are restless tonight, so we won’t keep them waiting.”

  Shay flipped the switch and the room went as dark as a tomb.

  Brenda pointed her flashlight beam across the room and started for the staircase. “We’ll guide these souls into the light later. I can feel Callie’s spirit. She’s in your bedroom waiting for us.”

  A shiver crept up Shay’s spine. It had been several days since Callie had shown herself or communicated with her in any way. Brenda sounded certain that she was upstairs. Shay’s legs vibrated as she climbed the stairs and led Brenda into her bedroom.

  Brenda
stood in the middle of the room and incanted, “Callie Elizabeth Hayes. I feel your presence. Please show yourself to us. We want to talk. We’re here to help you.”

  Creaking stairs caused Shay to jump. She turned and waved her flashlight into the hallway, but saw nothing. When she turned around again, a gray mist began to form in front of the fireplace. Slowly, the mist took the shape of a woman. Shay held her breath. Callie’s blue eyes penetrated her as the rest of her body materialized.

  “That’s her,” Shay whispered to Brenda.

  “I’ve never before seen a full body apparition that looked so much like a living person,” Brenda whispered back.

  Callie’s arms stretched out. She gazed at Shay with longing. “Help… me.” It was the same beckoning, the same sad pleading Shay had heard before.

  “That’s why we’re here,” Brenda assured. “What do you need from us? Tell us how we can help.”

  Shay removed the tarnished band on the chain from her pocket and held it in front of her. “Do you recognize this ring, Callie? Do you know who it belonged to?”

  Callie’s eyes grew wide. She moaned, “Ev…er…ett.”

  Shay and Brenda exchanged glances. A loud bam coming from downstairs sent a jolt straight through Shay’s body. “What was that?”

  “It sounded like a door slamming open.”

  Shay knew which door it was. “It’s the basement door. He’s coming!” Her heart thundered so hard and fast, she thought it was going to rip through her chest. She grabbed Brenda’s arm, and the two of them scurried toward the windows as heavy, ominous footsteps pounded up the staircase.

  Suddenly, the bedroom door slammed shut. Shay felt her hand open and her fingers spread apart. She was unable to keep her grip on the chain as it began to float on the air toward Callie.

  “What’s happening, Brenda?”

  “Remember how I told you I sometimes see scenarios play out like a movie?”

  Shay nodded.

  “I think we’re about to see the events that took place in this room one hundred and twenty-five years ago. Together, our psychic power is strong. We’re causing this to happen.”

  Shay worked to still the racing rhythm of her heart and the trembling of her legs. Callie reached for the dangling ring and slipped the chain over her neck. The moment the ring rested against Callie’s skin, a bright light flashed outside the window. Callie smiled and held the ring between her fingers to admire it the way any woman would proudly regard a cherished gift.

  Shay realized Callie had returned to 1885 in her memories, which projected themselves into the room in present day.

  “She’s reliving a happy moment in her life,” Brenda whispered.

  Callie no longer gazed at Shay. She waltzed around the room, holding her white slip in her fingertips, looking like an elegant lady dancing at a ball. Shay could even hear her humming softly. Not daring to breathe, let alone make a sound, Shay realized Brenda was as still as a mouse next to her.

  When a knock sounded on the wooden doorframe, Shay’s breath stuck in her throat. She watched Callie float to the door and fling it open. When Dean Averill pushed his way in, Shay bit back a gasp. She recognized him from the old photo she’d had copied from the book at the historical society, and from Frank’s photo of his grandparents.

  She could see Frank in Dean’s features, but there was no time to ponder the family connection further. Something was terribly wrong. A rotten smell engulfed the room. It was the same sickening odor Shay had smelled before. Her heart stopped.

  Dean’s eyes were as hard and cold and black as BBs. His mouth turned in a snarl. He shut the door behind him and began to unbuckle his belt.

  Callie backed up and shook her head vehemently. She whirled to run. Her mouth opened in anguish when she realized there was no escaping the room.

  Dean stalked toward her like a tiger and gripped her around the shoulders. He forced a kiss on her. When Callie struggled away and spat on him, he violently slapped her across the face. She went flying across the floor. When she scrambled to her feet, she stumbled into the fireplace and reached for the poker. A tussle ensued as she tried to hit Dean with the poker, but she was overpowered by his strength. He batted the poker out of her hand then grabbed her brutally around her waist. As he hauled her to the bed, she kicked and screamed. “Help me!”

  Dean shoved her onto the bed so that her legs were dangling above the floor. She received another slap for screaming.

  “Shut up, whore! My wife’s with child and you’re going to give me what I need. Right now!” Dean unbuttoned his pants with one hand and roughly pushed Callie’s slip to her hips. Her sobs were uncontrollable.

  “Do something!” Shay pleaded with Brenda. She felt her eyes wide with terror. “He’s going to rape her!”

  “I can’t do anything,” Brenda replied, with a choke. “Neither of us can. We’re watching this as it happened that day in 1885. We can’t change the course of history.”

  Dean grunted as he struggled to get his pants down while Callie fought like a cougar, scratching at him with her nails.

  “Help me!” she screamed again.

  Shay closed her eyes. “I can’t bear to watch this.” At the sound of more footsteps thumping up the staircase, Shay’s gaze snapped to the door as it catapulted open.

  When Everett Rawlins entered, his eyes popped open, and he growled with rage.

  Shay felt weak, like she might faint. She clutched Brenda’s hand and they stood motionless together, pressed against the wall between the two windows. Even Brenda was trembling.

  In one split second, Shay realized Everett did not look the way he had in the cemetery. Also a full body apparition, his mouth was not dripping blood nor was his shirt ripped open. He’d not been shot yet! She also realized, sadly, that Dean, not Everett, was the entity who’d been tormenting her all this time. Her stomach churned at the realization that she was related to this evil man.

  She watched Everett grab Dean by the scruff of the neck and drag him off Callie. He swung him around. Everett was taller than Dean by a good six inches. Dean didn’t know what had hit him when Everett retracted his arm and punched him, shattering his nose and sending him sprawling onto the floor.

  “Ev…er…ett,” Callie whimpered.

  He lifted her from the bed and cradled her in his arms. “Sweetheart, did he hurt you?”

  “Not yet,” Dean thundered from the floor.

  Instinct caused Shay to scream. “Everett, watch out!”

  Everett turned and pushed Callie out of the way, but he was unable to save his own life. The blast from Dean’s pistol sent a bullet whizzing through the air straight into Everett’s heart. With a heavy thud, he fell to the floor, dead.

  Crying, Callie ran for the door, but Dean was too quick. He was up on his feet blocking it, with blood flowing from his nose.

  “I can’t have you telling the sheriff what happened here. Nor my wife,” he spat out, as he wrapped his hands around her slender neck.

  “Stop!” Shay shouted, knowing it wouldn’t change what was destined to happen. Wringing her hands and barely breathing, she watched Dean Averill choke the life out of Callie and then toss her onto the bed like a rag doll.

  Forty-Eight

  Shay watched, still shaking, as Dean sat on the bed and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. He seemed to be in a world of the past and unaware that she and Brenda were nearby and had seen everything.

  Now she understood why Callie had been asking for her help—to see that Everett’s name was cleared of her murder and that justice was served. Everett had been her beau, and Dean Averill the murderer of them both.

  Shay remembered the old newspaper article she’d read. The sheriff had found Callie and Everett dead, and Dean with a bloodied nose. Obviously, Dean had contrived a story making him appear the hero. Everett Rawlins had gone to his grave labeled a rapist and a killer.

  Shay wept for Everett and Callie, who had been in love. It was all crystal clear. Apparently Callie had be
en unable to move on until the truth was revealed. The only burning question remaining was why she’d tried to strangle Shay.

  “What do we do now?” Shay whispered to Brenda.

  At the sound of her voice, Dean lifted his head and turned. Dark eyes drilled her, and the room grew so cold, she shivered. “Brenda? What’s happening? I thought he couldn’t see us.”

  “Stay calm,” Brenda advised, as Dean slowly stood. A low growl erupted from his throat. Brenda took a step forward and called out to him in a strong, powerful voice. “Dean Averill, you have no power here. You are dead and cannot hurt Callie or Shay any longer. We want you gone. You are not welcome in this place. Go to hell where you belong!”

  Moving at the speed of lightning, Dean grabbed Brenda by the throat with elongated fingers. Shay screamed as he hauled Brenda into the air with what seemed like superhuman strength. Brenda’s feet kicked, and she gasped for air.

  “Let go of her!” Shay shrieked, striking at him with fists that went straight through him. What was she to do? She knew what this demon was capable of. How was she going to save Brenda? She threw her arms around Brenda’s waist and pulled on her, but Dean’s strength was too potent. “Leave us alone!” she screamed, repeating Brenda’s incantations. “Go to hell!”

  Suddenly, flames exploded from across the room. Shay jerked her head and saw Callie hovering next to the fireplace. Dean’s dark gaze flew to her, too. Remarkably, he released Brenda and she fell to the floor, wheezing for air, but conscious. The orange flames shot out of the fireplace and licked the sky. Groaning, Dean hid his face.

  Shay helped Brenda scramble to the corner as Everett rose from the floor. In the same lightning speed that Dean had latched onto Brenda’s throat, Everett bolted toward Dean and pushed him into the fireplace.

  “No!” Dean cried. “No fire!”

  Callie’s eyes penetrated him like swords as she plunged her hand into the flames and scooped up a ball of blazing heat and hurled it at him. The ball exploded, and a raging inferno engulfed Dean in a spinning vortex. Covering her ears to drown out his animalistic screams, Shay watched as the tornado of fire disappeared into the floor with a big whoosh.