Whispers in the Mist

by Lisa Alber

  He’d succeeded. But at a tragic cost.

  “Dermot can’t stay here anymore,” Danny said.

  “But, Gemma, what about Gemma?”

  Good question. She would need to remain local to support Dermot, and it could be better for her to stay here than at Fox Cottage by herself. They could barter. Free room and board for help with the kids. And there was Marcus too; his own roller-coaster journey toward sobriety might be sticking at long last. Danny would have to see. He’d have to see about everything.

  “We might want to consider Grandpap Marcus too,” he said.

  Petey clapped his approval.

  “But what about Gemma?” Mandy said.

  “We’ll ask her first to help her out, and then we’ll see about Grandpap. And the kittens too. I’ll fetch them from Alan tomorrow. This will be our plan.”

  Petey clapped again. “We can help them all.”

  Sweet, sensitive boy, already knowing how little they could help Ellen.

  “Oh, look.” Mandy pointed toward the hedgerow near the front gate. “Can we help it too?”

  Danny squinted. “I don’t see anything.”

  Petey pointed too. “We have to help it.”

  Danny didn’t need to see the sparrow to know this was what they spied in the grass. A flutter caught his eye and was gone again.

  “It’s flying!” Petey called.

  “And that’s just as it should be.” Danny held their hands and stood. “Now, let’s see what we’ve got in the freezer for dinner.”

  Mandy grabbed his house key and unlocked the door and ran inside before Danny had a chance to hesitate again. Petey stayed close. His tone was both hopeful and cautious. “I like being home and you do too, right, Da?”

  “I do indeed. Home is the best place to be.”

  The talk continued after that September of the unaccountable fogs. Locals hunkered down as winter cold and rain settled in on them, and a new tale grew, a tale of Lost Boy, who’d come to right a wrong and ended up Grey Man’s victim instead.

  It may be true that on the morning of his death a stream of light found its way through the fog. And it may be that in a lucid moment he remembered Matthew 10:28: “And fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul.”

  It may also be true that by the strength of his final thoughts, he vowed that the truth about John McIlvoy would become known. Somehow. He didn’t know how. He didn’t care. Before he died, he believed.

  So, if there be a providence in the fall of a sparrow, Lost Boy was that sparrow and providence let him linger long enough to die in the arms of a lost man, one of Lisfenora’s own, who had needed his own talisman.

  Thereafter, Lisfenorans spread tales about strange sightings when the fogs rolled in. They argued about what the sparrow with the drooping wing meant, but all would agree that Grey Man who rolled in with the fog was better than a grey man living within their midst.

  THE END

  © James Titus

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Lisa Alber is a Rosebud Award nominee for best first novel for Kilmoon, a Pushcart Prize nominee, and winner of an Elizabeth George Foundation grant and Walden Fellowship.

  Before devoting herself to the fiction life, Lisa worked in Ecuador, Brazil, and New York City. Her various career choices included international finance, journalism, book publishing, and technical writing, with a minor stint as cocktail waitress.

  Lisa lives in the Pacific Northwest with a tiny dog and a chubby cat. She’s a member of Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime. You can find Lisa at http://www.lisaalber.com.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Information

  Acknowledgments

  Author’s Note

  Dedication

  WEDNESDAY

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  THURSDAY

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  FRIDAY

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  SATURDAY

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  SUNDAY

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  MONDAY

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  TUESDAY

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Thirty-Seven

  Thirty-Eight

  Thirty-Nine

  Forty

  Forty-One

  Forty-Two

  Forty-THree

  Forty-Four

  Forty-Five

  Forty-Six

  WEDNESDAY

  Forty-Seven

  Forty-Eight

  Forty-Nine

  Fifty

  Fifty-One

  Fifty-Two

  Fifty-Three

  Fifty-Four

  Fifty-Five

  THURSDAY

  Fifty-Six

  Fifty-Seven

  Fifty-Eight

  Fifty-Nine

  Sixty

  FRIDAY

  Sixty-One

  Sixty-Two

  Sixty-Three

  Sixty-Four

  Sixty-Five

  About the Author