The scene changed again. This time they were at a homecoming party in a large hall packed with people. Frank, clad in his Navy Service dress white uniform walked joyously through a set of double doors with a huge smile on his face, as the crowd screamed, “Surprise!” From the back of the room, a red-haired beauty burst from the crowd and ran to Frank excitedly, jumping into his arms giving him a kiss. The camera then focused on Jack’s face to show his eyes practically bugging out of his head. Frank, dropped on one knee and gave his girl a ring as the crowd cheered louder. While Moira cried, Angus clapped, and Catherine snapped photos joyously, Jack looked as if he was going to kill his friend. Upon seeing this reaction, Angus laughed, elbowing Jack in the gut until he laughed too. “Your friend just turned into your brother! It’ll be all right, boy!” Finally, Jack clapped along with the crowd, as Bridgette released Frank from her embrace, both of their faces red and smiling.
Quickly, the slide changed again, and the date stamp now read December 25, 1981. Children gathered around the Christmas tree as Bridgette and Moira sung carols. Cole and Natalie Piedmonte played quietly on the floor next to Blake, Tommy and Shane. Jack cradled a newborn in his arms. From behind the camera, Angus spoke, "Let us see that angel's face." Jack brought Tristan closer to the camera's lens, filming her as she slept.
From the couch, Frank asked Jack, "Is Catherine coming down for breakfast?"
Bridgette answered, "She's sleeping. She had quite an ordeal last night, but I'll check on her in a bit."
The filming stopped abruptly and picked back up on January 2, 1982. The jovial scene gave way to a more somber one. Jack was sitting with his shoulders slumped on the couch. His five-o’clock shadow gave him the appearance that he hadn't shaved for several days. He grabbed the knot of his tie and loosened it, his wedding band reflecting the light from the camera. His facial features were overridden with emotion, an overwhelming combination of grief, exhaustion, sadness, and anger. He spotted the video camera, and glared at it. "Get that thing out of my face, Adam! Don't you have homework to do?!" The picture went to static before refocusing again on another scene.
The projector refocused, now showing the windowsill of Tristan's bedroom. A raven with its wings flexed sat on the windowsill, tapping its beak against the glass. Jack complained, "This bird has been pecking at this window for seven days straight! It always comes in the afternoon, and sits there all day, as if waiting for someone to let her in."
Jack turned off the projector, leaving his family in the dark. He turned on a dimly lit lamp that stood on an end table, and stood up to address his family. "I showed you that first, so that you could see that your mother and I had a happy life together. She was everything to me, but she was not well. She did not leave, like I said before. That was a lie. Your mother is dead. She was found lifeless on the ground by Croft Lake on Christmas Day, just a few hours after Tristan was born. She had drowned. The coroner wasn’t sure if it was suicide or foul play. I always had my suspicions, though. I'm sorry I lied, but I did it to protect you all."
Tommy blurted out, "That's bullshit, Dad!"
"Watch your mouth, boy!” warned Jack. “Now do you want to hear this, or not?" Tommy closed his mouth as quickly as it opened, desperate to finally hear the truth. Jack began.
“After Catherine and I started dating, she began to notice Kendricks giving her weird looks, showing up in random places, putting upsetting notes in her locker at school. I wanted to kick his ass. She wouldn't let me. Eventually, her grandmother got a restraining order against Kendricks on Catherine’s behalf. After a while he let up, starting acting like he just wanted to be her friend. She wanted to believe the lie. I never did. She believed that people could change. No matter how chummy he acted, I never trusted him.”
“After graduation, we didn't see him as much at first. A year after high school, Catherine became pregnant with Adam. The day after she told me, I proposed. We were married at St. Augustine's on December 1, 1974, and Adam arrived seven months later. We lived in the guest house at first, near the lake. It was just the three of us, so we were okay on space. But it was short-lived. Liam came two years later, and we moved into the main house, swapping spaces with Grandma and Gus. Catherine's anxiety had been kept under control until this point. When she became pregnant with Tommy, she was warned that if she continued taking her anxiety medication, she could harm the baby. She went off the meds, cold turkey. She agreed to try to relax and not think about Kendricks who was, at this point, sending letters every day to the house. She didn’t let me see them.”
“With each pregnancy after Liam, she became depressed and anxious. Paranoia began to run rampant. We had to hospitalize her twice because her thoughts turned dangerous. She began to isolate herself on the third floor where she would focus on her art, afraid to come out, thinking that he would be there. She felt that she was a danger to others in the sense that if Kendricks came for her, he’d come for us too. It wasn’t until later that I learned that Kendricks’ was writing her threatening letters. He had been for years. “
“She hid it from me because she knew I would go after him, and she didn’t want to see anyone get hurt. I was much more concerned with him harming her. The anxiety that resulted from his stalking was too much for her to handle, so she needed medicine. When she became pregnant with Tristan, things seemed to improve. There was rarely a moment when she didn't have a smile on her face. Then something changed. She went back to the dark place. I began intercepting the letters. Hiding them from her. I didn’t want anything to upset her further. That’s when we started noticing something peculiar.”
Jack pulled out a leather photo album, filled to the brim with old photographs. One page was bookmarked, and he opened it up to what looked like a birthday party. Catherine was smiling as the wind gently blew her dress. In one hand she held a glass of sweet tea, in the other a horseshoe that she was about to toss. In the background, there is a table festively decorated with balloons and a colorful table cloth where Frank and Bridgette sat with a small brown-haired baby on her lap – Blake. Frank and Bridgette were in the midst of a conversation, and Bridgette was on the verge of laughter unaware of the figure standing just ten feet behind them in the forest clearing. Peering his face through the trees, Bernard Kendricks watched Catherine intently, almost oblivious to the fact that he wasn’t supposed to be there.
No one realized he was there until they developed the film. Catherine had taken the film cartridge to the three-day photo booth at the Danville Shopping Center. She began flipping through the shots, smirking at each one, laughing at the photo where she had smashed a slice of birthday cake in Jack’s face after he told a particularly bad joke of which she was the brunt. She continued flipping through them happily when finally she came across the photo in question. She was about to discard it at the bottom of the pile when she abruptly stopped, having noticed something strange, something that didn’t belong. As she studied the face that was peering out of the forest brush, she felt the blood rushing to her head. Twenty-three photographs fluttered to the linoleum floor of the three-day photo booth, while Catherine stared in silence at the photograph. Molly Binns, just fifteen then, stared at Catherine.
“Mrs. Morrow? Are you okay?” Catherine heard the girl, but didn’t respond.
“Mrs. Morrow?” pressed Molly.
Catherine nodded at the girl, eyes wide, trying to break free of her momentary shock. Molly helped her pick up the photographs from the floor, and Catherine accepted them quietly. It wasn’t until she got into her car that she began to scream. She hit the steering wheel in rage. Bridgette, who was sitting in the passenger seat next to her, stared at her as if she was insane.
“What the hell’s gotten into you?!”
“This!”
Catherine, still seething, passed the photograph with her shaking hand to Bridgette, whose hand flew up to her dropped jaw.
“You know what this means, don’t you?” Bridgette asked her sister-in-law.
Catherine nodded.
“I need to let Jack handle this.”
“It wasn’t the first photograph we had found that showed Kendricks in the background,” explained Jack, “a photograph he had no business being in. We don’t exactly live in the middle of town. We are miles away. He was coming all this way just to spy on her. To catch a glimpse of the woman he loved and lost. He was completely obsessed with Catherine. He didn’t think we would see him, and to be honest, we usually didn’t. It wasn’t until the photographs were developed that we discovered his presence. That naturally put all of us on edge, but none more so than Catherine. I didn’t understand the extent of her fear until it was too late.”
“She began to isolate herself. Hiding up on the third floor, ignoring me when I called her down; guarding herself from the outside world. When she was entering her third trimester, I found her crying on the third floor. It took nearly an hour to get out of her what had upset her. She had seen him, standing outside the house. Not doing anything, just staring. It was a psychological game to him. The more she distanced herself from him, the more obsessed he became.”
Jack began tossing picture after picture with Kendricks appearing in the background on the table:
Catherine and Adam horseback riding with a man watching from the orchard.
Jack squeezing Catherine into a hug, standing by his new pickup truck, as someone with binoculars peered at them from the forest line.
The most chilling of all however, was a family snapshot in the dining room on Christmas Eve, smiles all around, children with messy faces, Catherine still wearing her apron from preparing dinner. In the background through the window, despite the ice and snow, was a faint outline of someone peering in the window.
He wouldn’t stop until he had her. “If only I had known then,” lamented Jack, “I would’ve put a stop to his madness. He took an already fragile mind and applied just enough pressure for it to break completely. Not many things frighten me. But Bernard Kendricks is a sick man, and the thought that he has your sister scares the living hell out of me.”
“Your mother went into labor on Christmas Eve 1981, in the middle of the worst snow storm Skole County had ever seen or has seen since. We had to act fast. Aunt Bridgette and I got her into my truck. It was snowing really heavily at this point. The weather guy was predicting this storm to be the worst in a century. We had to take it slow down the mountain, due to ice and wind. We were finally at the bottom, about to cross the covered bridge, when we saw it – a tractor trailer was laying overturned blocking the path to where the bridge once stood. The roof of the bridge had collapsed and underneath it lay debris, and the headlights of a car shone out. I could hear the sirens of an ambulance from beneath the rubble and the screams of a small child crying out into the night.”
“There were firefighters on the opposite side of the wreck, trying to dig out the car. I got out of the truck while Aunt Bridgette waited in the truck with Catherine. I tried to see if I could dig out the car from the other side. I cleared off the hood of the car and the windshield. I could see little Cole Piedmonte and his sister inside, screaming from the back seat. What the hell was I supposed to do? Leave them there? I couldn't. The firefighters were having difficulty reaching them. I tried to reach the driver's side door, but it was frozen shut. I began to kick in the windshield over the driver's seat so that the shards wouldn't harm the children inside the car. The windshield broke in three large sheets. I cleared the remaining edges from the frame with my coat sleeve before climbing into the car and grabbing hold of the children. I passed Natalie out of the car to Aunt Bridgette, and I carried Cole. We loaded them into the front seat between us and headed back home. There was no chance that we were making it through the bridge that night. The accident was devastating, and there was no other way off the pass. I had to get Catherine back up to the house, and pray that my medically trained family members could get my wife and our baby through the night. As for Monte's kids, I would bring them back to their father once the path was clear. I couldn't just leave them out there in the cold. They would have died. It was bad enough that their mother was killed in the accident.”
“We arrived back at the farm at midnight. Gus determined that Catherine was close to having the baby, but she still had a few centimeters to go. We laid her down in the living room. Bridgette piled blankets on the floor. Gus grabbed his medical bag and monitored her heart, her pulse. Bridgette placed her palm on Catherine's stomach and she could feel and time the contractions as they came and went. As the contractions came Bridgette pushed down on the top of Catherine's stomach, to help move the labor along. I was ushered out of the room by Grandma because I was panicking at this point. Roughly four hours after midnight on Christmas Day, Tristan was finally born.
“We let Catherine rest on the third floor. She was completely exhausted at that point. We checked on her periodically through the night. Christmas morning, I got sidetracked with the kids opening their presents. Bridgette checked on her at 5:00 in the morning, and when we went back at 8:00 A.M., she was gone. We tried reporting her missing, with her health issues, we tried to tell the officers that she needed to be found right away, but they didn't listen, telling us that we had to wait twenty-four hours to report her missing. Shortly after, she was pulled out of the lake, and I was the local police's primary suspect all due to a life insurance policy that was taken out a couple weeks before Catherine's death, which was her idea in the first place! I think she knew what was coming, and wanted to make sure we were okay. Since the case was frozen, we could only collect on the pre-existing life insurance policy, not the new one, not until the case was solved.”
“Our only access to the town was cut off when the bridge collapsed. Our luck was against us. But when she went missing that morning, I knew it wasn’t of her own accord.”
“The police and the coroner were convinced that it was suicide, but I knew better. I tried to tell the police about Kendricks’ history of stalking her, but they wouldn’t listen. I’m convinced Kendricks paid them off. Sounds far-fetched, but considering the corruption in this town… it might not be far off the mark.”
“I'm sorry I lied,” Jack concluded contritely, “I just thought suicide and stalkers and murder plots were too dark of a topic for my children to comprehend at such a tender age. Please understand that. It’s important that you know the truth before officers start asking questions. I loved your mother. I still do. I would give up the world to have her back for a moment. No matter what anyone says to you, know that to be true.”
* * *
The massive oak clock struck midnight when Blake put his master plan into action; the booming toll of midnight would mask his ascent to the third floor. The grandfather clock that was located in his father’s study would sound over the jarring groan that he expected the thick metal door to make. He had located what he believed to be the correct key that would unlock the rooms on the third floor, and in the most peculiar of ways. These rooms were locked for a reason. These rooms, which once were inhabited by his mother, had to be able to tell him something about what happened. Blake had a sneaking suspicion that his father was not telling all that he knew. He was hiding something, and Blake was determined to find out what.
Blake recalled the time he and Tristan asked Jack what the key was for and he always replied the same, “I don’t remember.” Even though Jack wouldn’t say, Blake had a feeling that he knew what it opened. The key felt heavy in Blake’s hand, as if reminding him of the weight of what he was about to do. He didn’t like betraying his father’s trust, but he had to find out the truth, about Tristan and their mother. He had lied for fifteen years, what is to stop him now?
Twelve strikes of the grandfather clock were all he had to open an old, potentially rust-sealed door that hadn’t been opened in over a decade. If he got caught, Blake would never hear the end of it. All the kids knew that the third floor was strictly out of bounds. They had all been warned to stay out of the third-floor suite. He didn’t know what waited for him there, but he hoped it wou
ld provide answers.
Blake began to climb the steep stairway to the third floor. With each step, Blake felt the air getting thinner. He felt an electric charge in the air. He had the feeling that he wasn’t alone. Every step, covered with ancient, tattered carpeting, creaked in protest. Every move became a struggle, until finally he reached the metal door. He had never realized how intricately detailed it was - golden bronze with lavish flora and Celtic knotting woven into the metal. He moved a panel on the door, and it slid along a track on the door to reveal an old keyhole. He inserted the key and turned forcefully. He put his hand on the knob expecting to receive resistance, but to his surprise the door opened with a gentle twist.
The door swung open as the last strike of midnight boomed from the clock. What Blake saw before him confused him. Blake expected to see a dingy, unkempt attic with dust, boxes, and things strewn about. Instead, an immaculate parlor lay before him. Rather than looking like a room that had been left unattended for more than fifteen years, the third-floor suite was perfectly polished and quite beautiful. The blue wallpaper with yellow birds and white oleanders hadn’t aged a day. On the west wall of the parlor stood a large circular window that took precedence over all other interior décor. The white lace curtains were brushed aside, allowing the pale moon to shine in, its yellow light illuminating the parlor in a ghostly glow.
Shadow Dancer (The Shadow Series Book 1) Page 15
