by Jordan Ford
Caitlin’s hand is on my back again. A balm. A comfort.
I stand tall and pull her against me.
I want to hold her forever.
Her sweetness will chase away the fear.
But it won’t give me answers.
Her lips brush my cheek and I turn towards them, capturing her mouth against mine.
She’s more confident this time, her tongue finding mine easily.
It tastes sweet.
It’s a memory chaser. Something to kill the badness.
But it won’t give me answers.
I ignore the throbbing reminder and kiss her some more, taking my time to explore her luscious mouth, pretending for a moment that everything in my life is normal.
But that’s not the truth.
Kissing Caitlin may be a reprieve.
But it won’t give me answers.
#13:
Blood, Ghosts and Pot
Caitlin
Poor Riley. I’m sick with worry as I watch him drive away.
He’s heading back to the cabin to no doubt hide whatever he’s going through from his family.
That seems to be his way.
Keep everything close to the chest.
I’m honored that he’s let me in on what he has.
But I’m also burdened by it.
I want to help him so bad.
I want to free him of this torment so that my kisses can be more than just comfort.
His tongue. His lips. Oh man, he curled my toes. His strong arms holding me made my insides crumble like the walls of Jericho.
I never wanted him to stop.
But he had to.
Because I’m not enough to kill whatever’s haunting him.
He needs answers.
And I’m going to help him find them.
Brushing my fingers over my tingling lips, I glance at my watch.
I’m due home in forty minutes, but that’s plenty of time to visit a lazy step-uncle.
Sheriff Chesney may be completely useless but he’s been “looking after” the town of Legacy for over fifteen years. Surely he can tell me what happened in that shack near the pond.
I park Dad’s truck outside the office and march inside.
As usual, the TV is on and an intense hockey game is in session. There’s no deputy in this office. I’m sure if there were, he’d actually do something resembling work.
No, the only deputy this town has is Dan Hasley. He’s the town fix-it man. He’s also married to Meg, who owns Royals, the only diner in town. They’re a quirky couple, but I kind of like them. Dan makes a point of telling everyone he meets that he’s the deputy sheriff in Legacy. He, of course, fails to mention that it’s volunteer work, he doesn’t get paid a cent, and the only time Kurt ever calls on him is in the summer when he can’t be bothered getting off his lazy ass to go and deal with gripes between park rangers and hikers set on bending the rules.
“Hey, Uncle Kurt.” I stand by his desk and slide Dad’s keychain onto my index finger.
Kurt glances over his shoulder to acknowledge me, then turns back to the game.
“I need to ask you a question.”
“Uh-huh.” His eyes remain glued to the screen and it takes all my willpower not to hurl the bright blue stapler at his head.
I cross my arms and huff. “Could you please give me two seconds of your time? This is important.”
“What, Caitlin!” He glances over his shoulder and scowls at me. “What could be so damn important that I have to miss the last five minutes of a hockey game?”
“Fine.” I throw my hands in the air. “I’ll shut up and let you watch your stupid game if you promise to turn around and talk to me when it’s over.”
“Fine.” He spins back, the chair squeaking beneath the weight of him.
How the hell this guy keeps getting voted in every few years is beyond me. People in this town just can’t be bothered to think! As long as no one disrupts their peaceful little existence, they don’t care.
With an exaggerated huff, I wait out the game, tapping my foot.
It’s probably pissing him off, but I’m embarrassed to admit that it gives me a sick sense of satisfaction. He shouldn’t be watching hockey during work hours anyway.
After five painful minutes, Uncle Kurt flicks off the TV and spins to face me.
“Happy now? We lost.”
I roll my eyes. “Hardly my fault. And they were losing four-zero. Do you honestly think they could have won?”
He gives me a dry glare, then wipes the sandwich crumbs off his lips. “What do you want?”
I uncross my arms and tap my finger on his desk. “I want to know what happened up at that hermit’s cabin.”
Kurt’s dark eyebrows dip together, his pudgy nose twitching as he studies my expression. “Why?”
I shrug. “Curiosity.”
His chair squeaks as he leans back with an unconvinced smirk. “You know, curiosity killed the cat, Caitlin.”
I re-cross my arms. “Well, it’s lucky I’m not a cat, then.”
He scoffs and bounces forward to rest his elbows on his desk. “You don’t want to hear this stuff. It’s a dark smudge on Legacy’s beautiful reputation.”
“Is that why no one wants to talk about it? Are they worried it’ll affect tourism or something?”
He doesn’t respond, which tells me I’m right.
“That’s ridiculous!”
“Tourism is this town’s biggest source of income over the summer months.” He taps his finger on the desk. “We’re not going to scare them off with ghost stories.”
“If anything, it’d pull people in, wouldn’t it?”
“Not everyone is as enamored by death as you are, Caitlin Powell.”
“I’m not enamored by death.” I roll my eyes. “I just want to know what the big deal is. Now, come on, you can’t tell me you actually believe in ghosts.”
His round cheeks puff as he narrows his eyes at me. “This doesn’t have anything to do with that boy who’s living up there, does it?”
I hope my cheeks aren’t blushing as I stare him in the eye and shake my head. “Don’t change the subject. Now, tell me what happened.”
I grab the nearest chair and pull it across to his desk. It scrapes on the ground, making Kurt wince before whining, “Don’t sit down.”
With a sticky sweet smile, I take a seat. “You know, the quicker you tell me the truth, the sooner I’ll be out of your hair.”
His eyebrows lift with the prospect. Patting his dark locks, he smooths a hand over them before he gives in with a sigh. “All right, fine. About ten or so years ago, a couple of hikers reported seeing a man covered in blood stumbling through the woods with a little boy in his arms.”
I sit forward, my heart jumping into an erratic beat. “Was it the guy from the cabin?”
“We’re not sure. It’s a guess. A pretty plausible one. He went missing around the same time.”
“So, that’s how the story about him killing that family started. They saw a guy covered in blood carrying a…dead boy?”
“The hikers weren’t sure if the child was dead or just unconscious. They claimed that they tried to chase after them and offer help, but the man just took off. A sign of guilt, if you ask me.”
I frown.
“Anyway, the hikers lost track of him near Billington Ridge. Said he just disappeared into thin air. When they stumbled in here fussing, I took a statement and told them I’d check it out.” Kurt looks at his messy desk and shrugs. “We conducted a search, but there was no trace of the man or the boy.”
He goes quiet and I lean forward, expecting more.
He doesn’t say anything.
“That’s it?” I frown. “How big was the search? What did the man look like? Did you even investigate?”
“Of course I did!” He huffs. “I asked around, but no one knew anything.”
“Asked around? Who did you ask?”
“Holiday makers. People in the area.
” Kurt shrugs. His patience is waning but I’m not ready to walk out yet.
“Did you go up to the cabin and interview the guy who actually lived there?”
“I already told you! He was gone. I stopped by his place but it’d been abandoned.” He squeezes the back of his neck. He’s stopped catching my eye. He’s now tracking a fly on the wall. “The place had been upturned like someone was looking for something.”
I swallow, remembering the state of the cabin when I found it. I spent my first summer putting it back together, making it a neat hideaway. No doubt destroying any type of evidence.
I wince.
“I can’t explain it, Caitlin, but that cabin just had a really horrible vibe.” His face bunches into a grimace.
“What?” I stand up and rest my hands on the front of his desk. “What aren’t you saying?”
“It creeped me out. So, I decided not to pursue anything. There were no signs of blood or violence…just a man who wanted to leave in a hurry…so…I left it.”
“You left it? You just walked away from an obvious crime?”
“It wasn’t necessarily an obvious crime! There was no blood. Just a ransacked cabin!”
“But…” I throw my arms up. “What about the kid? And the man covered in blood?”
Scratching the side of his neck, Kurt avoids my exasperated glare and shrugs. “When we questioned those tourists a second time, it came to light that they’d been smoking pot. They confessed that it was probably just a ghost.” He smiles up at me. “Well, as soon as that spread, people didn’t want to go near that part of the woods again…and after what I felt in that cabin, I didn’t blame them.”
I can do nothing more than gape at the stupid sheriff with his stupid small town brain!
“Ghosts,” I mutter. “Seriously, you people are—” I let out a disgusted huff and spin for the door.
There should have been a proper investigation!
Questions! Interviews! Trackers searching the area! Proper police involvement!
Storming out to Dad’s truck, I slam into it and grip the wheel.
My frustration is wild and overpowering.
A man covered in blood, carrying a child.
I don’t care if those hikers were high or not. They saw something. I’m convinced of it.
And after the meltdown Riley had at that little shack, I have to wonder if maybe that child was a little boy with big teeth and freckles on his nose.
#14:
A Dark Awakening
Riley
A scream.
A gunshot.
A thud.
The sheets twist around my legs as I thrash against the dream.
A scream.
A gunshot.
A thud.
I’m hiding under the bed, covering my ears, shaking. Tears are rolling down my cheeks.
A scream. A gunshot. A thud.
Shouting. Fighting. Fists.
A gunshot.
“No! Sophia!”
Mom’s name. Who’s shouting Mom’s name?
Weeping. Anger. Despair.
“You bastard!”
A scream, a gunshot, a thud.
A scream—a gunshot—a thud.
A-scream-a-gunshot-a-thud!
I jerk awake, breaths punching out of me as I sit up and hold my head in my hands. Bending my knees, I rest my elbows against them. The dreams are chased away by consciousness, turned into fuzzy images and muted sounds.
I wish I’d never seen that damn shack.
It’s awakened a darkness within me. Sucked me into the black hole.
It’s a place I’m not sure I want to delve into.
But it’s a place I can’t seem to escape either.
Running a hand through my hair, I gaze into the darkness.
I have no idea what the time is. The early hours of the morning, no doubt. I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in months.
Flopping onto my back, I rest my arm on my forehead, too afraid to go back to sleep.
The dreams will get me again, eat at my mind until I’m driven insane.
It’s been three days since I freaked out in the shack.
Three days since I’ve kissed Caitlin.
Three days since I’ve spoken to her.
Guilt burns but is cooled by the logic that I’m doing the right thing.
She’s been calling incessantly and I’ve ignored every text and ring. I can’t pull her into this. It wouldn’t be fair. It’s bad enough that I used her to comfort me the other day. I kissed her to escape.
It’s not right.
I should be kissing her to make her happy, not as some sedative for my twisted brain.
She’s a good person. Intelligent. Beautiful.
She shouldn’t have to put up with my shit.
My life is so messed up right now. Confusing.
You can’t bring love into a place like that.
No, before I can be with anyone, I need answers.
A baby cry pierces the still night air. Ellie’s hungry, which means it must be around four in the morning. That’s when she usually wakes. I grab my phone to check the time—4:09am.
Caitlin’s left another message. I didn’t see it come through last night. I delete it before I’m tempted to get sucked in.
It’s a harsh, cowardly way to protect her, but I’m doing the right thing.
I can hear mumbling next door.
Ellie’s still crying.
There’s a soft thud of feet, then a sweet reprieve from the noise.
Grinding my teeth together, I close my eyes and try for more rest.
I’m exhausted. I need sleep in order to function, but as soon as my lids slide shut, I hear a gunshot.
*****
The dreams are growing more vivid each night. New pieces of information come to light with each one, but trying to analyze them in the morning is harrowing and a dead giveaway.
I don’t want my friends to notice, so I tuck the terrors away for later. When I’m hiking the forest alone, under the guise of checking traps, I can think about it as much as I like.
Think.
I mean torture myself.
These fuzzy images need to equate to something. And they do. Murder.
But how? Who?
I don’t understand how the police reports could be so wrong.
Or how my mother’s body could be in two different places at the same time.
I want to analyze and put logic around all this but there’s too much emotion in the way. I’m betrayed and wounded by those photographs, terrorized by my dreams.
“Hey, man. Looking…not so sharp this morning.” Trey grins and slaps me on the shoulder. “You good, bro?”
“Yeah.” I nod, forcing my eyebrows up and my lips into a smile. “Smells good out here.”
I grab a plate off the counter and load it with scrambled eggs.
Jules smiles at me as she pops a piece of toast on my plate.
“Thanks.”
She licks her finger. “No problem. You okay? You look kind of tired.” She bites the edge of her lip and frowns. “Ellie didn’t keep you awake last night, did she?”
“No.” It’s not really a lie. It’s not Ellie that’s stealing my sleep.
“Good.” She sags with relief before looking into the dining room. Ellie’s nestled on Kade’s lap, waving her little arms around. She makes a fist and squeals—her contribution to the conversation. Kade laughs and kisses the top of her head. The smile on his face is hilarious. He’s so enamored.
Who would have thought?
Trey kisses Ana on the lips before taking a seat beside her. They smile at each other before he starts chowing down, huge, manly mouthfuls that make Ana’s nose wrinkle.
“You’re such a caveman,” she mutters, taking a sip of her hot chocolate.
He growls and nearly makes her spill her drink when he wraps his arm around her and kisses her cheek noisily.
“Ah! Get off me!” She laughs, then pushes him away and wipes
egg residue off her face.
I can’t help a grin.
I love my family.
Being around them makes everything better.
Taking a seat at the end of the table, I cut up my toast and start eating.
Jules is humming in the kitchen, frying up bacon for Kade while her baby daughter makes funny noises and dribbles over Kade’s shirt.
Caitlin would grin at that.
I can still picture her face the time she walked in and noticed dribble all down Kade’s back. He was blissfully unaware. Caitlin snickered and Ellie picked up on the sound immediately. She stared at Caitlin over her daddy’s shoulder and gave her a toothless grin. It was like they were sharing a little secret or something.
It was beautiful.
I miss her.
I want to call her.
But I won’t.
Clearing my throat, I shovel more food in.
“So, what’s the plan today?” Trey takes a sip of Ana’s hot chocolate, then winks at her before she can complain.
She gives in with a smile and looks down at the table. Her eyes dart to mine and then back to her mug. Trey looks between us like he’s missing something, but I don’t know what.
“I’ve got a date with the chickens,” she murmurs, then pulls a disgusted face. “Their coop needs a good cleaning.”
“I’ll join you once I’ve settled Ellie for her morning nap.” Jules takes a seat next to Kade.
“Thanks.” Ana’s voice is flat this morning.
I subtly study her from my end of the table, trying to figure out what’s up.
“I love days like this.” In contrast, Jules sounds perky and upbeat as she steals a slice of bacon off Kade’s plate. “The sun is shining, the sky is blue. It’ll be perfect for cleaning. It feels good getting all these jobs down before the cold weather kicks in.”
Ana bobs her head but looks like she’s not really listening. Her eyes are fixated on something out the window, but I wouldn’t be shocked if she wasn’t even seeing it.
I don’t know what’s going on in that head of hers. I’m curious, but not enough to ask.
I wouldn’t want someone probing me with questions if I was in a zone like that. She’ll tell us when she’s ready.
Scraping the last of the eggs off my plate, I lick my fork clean and reach for my toast crust.
