All in Bad Time

by Yvonne Montgomery

  Eve's hands stilled on the keyboard and she slowly turned her head toward Aura Lee.

  Rose stiffened as her gaze passed over her, feeling ice form in her belly. "Hush."

  Aura Lee raised a brow and noticed the others were staring at Eve. As she followed suit, her gaze locked with Eve's and the plate started to tilt toward the floor. Noreen lunged to grab it, just saving the brownies. Her hands were shaking as she set the platter on the hearthstone.

  "Cottie?" whispered Aura Lee. "Is it really you?"

  Eve shifted her eyes back to the laptop and resumed typing. "What's going on?" Aura Lee asked painfully. "When did this start?"

  "After you went to the kitchen." Elizabeth's voice was low. "Eve went and got her laptop and brought it in here. She started typin'." Her voice wavered and she took a deep breath. "Why did you call her Cottie?"

  Aura Lee didn't answer and Noreen turned to her. The dishtowel she'd used to protect herself from the heat of the brownie plate was serving as a handkerchief. "The look in her eyes," Aura Lee whispered finally. "It made me think of Cottie."

  Brenna was edging toward the fireplace, shaking with nerves. "What are we supposed to do?"

  Rose clasped her hands together to keep them steady. "Let her type until she's finished, I guess." She had no color in her face and her eyes had dark circles around them. "Feel the cold?"

  Brenna sat down beside the brownies. "It's getting worse. Can we turn up the flames?"

  "I don't know if it will do any good." Rose reached for the knob set in the stone and turned it. The orange and blue flames grew higher.

  "It's a little warmer," Brenna whispered, holding her hands in front of the glass.

  "How can we keep on like this?" Rose's voice was barely above a whisper. "How can we—"

  Eve's cat Danica walked into the room from the kitchen. She tiptoed toward Eve and stopped suddenly. Lowering her chin to the floor, arching her back, she hissed and growled. Eve's hands went still and she cast a look at the little cat. Danica yowled and ran from the room.

  "You don't need to be in awe," Neal said from the doorway. "We couldn't find the journal."

  Kerry eased past him and started toward Max.

  "Wait!" Rose spoke quickly and loudly.

  Eve stopped typing and looked up at the two newcomers.

  Kerry took an unsteady step backward, nearly treading on Neal's foot. "My God."

  Neal could have been turned to stone for all the motion in his body. He revived to shoot a glance at Andrea, relaxing a fraction when she nodded at him. "When did this start?"

  "Right after you left."

  "What's she typing?"

  Brenna took a shaky breath and, incongruously, giggled, a sharp little sound. "We haven't asked."

  Eve took her hands off the keyboard and let out a long breath. She dropped sideways to the floor.

  Kerry darted to the chair where Max still slept. Andrea stepped around her and knelt beside Eve.

  "Is she okay?"

  Andrea held her hand against Eve's face, bending to make sure she was still breathing. As she lifted her head, Eve's eyes opened and she stared up at her. "What's going on?" she asked in a reedy voice. "What are you doing?"

  "You passed out," Andrea said. "We're trying to help you."

  Neal came closer and bent to put one arm under her shoulders. As he lifted her into a sitting position, her face creased in pain. "My knee, oh, God, what did I do?"

  "Here," Andrea said, "let's get you on the sofa so you can stretch it out." They got her arranged and tucked a blanket around her. "Do you want us to call a doctor?"

  Eve shook her head. "Not yet. Let me settle."

  Brenna had lowered herself to the floor and was scrolling through the pages Eve had typed.

  "What is it?" Noreen asked finally.

  Brenna looked up from the screen with a frown. "I'm not sure. Here's part: I folded my lips together to stop their trembling. I had come this far, and now it appeared I would have to travel again, to find another place to go to ground in order to avoid the evil man who would have been my father-in-law."

  Max's voice sounded groggily from the chair. "That's what we read, Kerry and I. Where did you find it?"

  "Find what?" Neal asked.

  "The journal. That's part of what we read."

  Kerry turned toward Brenna. "Does it keep going?"

  Brenna nodded. "For pages and pages."

  Neal sat back on his heels and stared at the laptop in amazement. "So we couldn't find the journal but Eve typed it while we were looking for it?"

  "I told you it was Cottie," Aura Lee whispered. "She wants us to know it all."

  Chapter 20

  Eve took another gulp of the brandy Neal gave her. "Go ahead," she gasped as the liquor burned down to her stomach. "Ask the question of the day." She glanced toward the windows, where no light shone. "The night."

  In the big chair Kerry stirred and Max tightened his arm around her shoulders. "Why were you—how were you able to type the journal on your laptop?"

  "You're sure what I typed was the same as the journal pages." Eve held her glass with both hands as if she feared having it taken from her.

  Max nodded somberly. "As best I can recall. As for the part we hadn't yet read, I'm ready to believe it's an exact copy. Why go to the trouble if it weren't?"

  Aura Lee stopped rubbing her hands together and looked straight at Eve, something she hadn't yet managed since the spirit had left her. "You don't remember anything about the time while you were... typing?"

  Eve bit back irritation. She'd been asked the question over and over again, each repetition making her want to scream and run from the room. Or limp from the room, she thought sourly. She glanced at the ice pack strapped to her knee, now swollen to the size of a cantaloupe. Aura Lee's defeated air, surrounding her like one of her robes, was the real reason she kept still. "No memory of it at all. I was absolutely blank, didn't even feel my leg." She lifted the glass to her lips once more. Brandy was proving to be a surprisingly effective pain medication.

  Rose adjusted the blanket draped around her shoulders. "We need to focus. Yes, the notion of Caldicott's taking over Eve's body—" She paused to clear her throat. "And typing skills, is hard to deal with but I suggest we make use of what Caldicott wanted us to have access to. The journal. Let's read it."

  Andrea leaned against Neal and lifted her feet onto the sofa cushion. "How about it, Eve? Do feel up for that?"

  "Wouldn't make any difference if I didn't," she said, her voice thickening. "We need to find out all we can, right?" She leaned her head back. Her smile felt sloppy but she didn't care.

  "Okay, then, who wants to read it?" Rose turned to Kerry, who shook her head. "Brenna?"

  Brenna pulled her chair a little closer to the coffee table and reached for one of the water bottles Aura Lee had carried in. She slid the laptop off the table and set it on her lap. "Here goes." She glanced at the screen. "Okay, we have her talking about the evil man who would've been her father-in-law. She asks Arnie what he suggests."

  "You and I go over your books and then we look for new home for these bonds of yours. Is doubtful your English earl could find them as you set up two trusts, but I do not like that large sums move to New York on dates so near when you escape from England. This we must change."

  And change those details, along with many more, is what we did. Arnie had helped many a refugee launder his funds upon arrival in America. With my money he created an umbrella corporation, which ultimately became the ornithological society where I supposedly worked after immigrating to the U.S. Why birds? Arnie liked birds of all kinds, but he was particularly fond of owls. One afternoon he pulled from his vest pocket a small leather pouch. Inside it was what he identified as an owl foot, with sharp talons. "Owl claws we carry with us, that our souls use them to climb to heaven when we die."

  Eve nestled more deeply into the throw wrapped around her. "Wonder if that has anything to do with the owl I saw in the chamber under my a
partment."

  "Climbing to heaven?" Neal asked.

  "Climbing to somewhere."

  Brenna resumed reading.

  I changed my name again, this time to Caldicott Wyntham. Arnie shook his head at it, but I wanted something distinctive. And the medal bearing the name appealed to me. I spelled it with an 'i' instead of an 'e' to set it apart. When we had the money covered, I began to look for a place to live. I rode on trains across the country, trying to decide what elements would please me most. Did I want to live near the ocean? Beside one of the Great Lakes? In mountains? Near a desert?

  Arnie told me about an article regarding a bird conference in Colorado, at the university in Boulder. What better way to smooth over my tracks than to attend such a meeting as a representative of my ornithological foundation?

  And so it was I came to Boulder, then a small town at the foot of the Rocky Mountains. It was so beautiful and I felt such a sense of homecoming. When the conference finished, I stayed on to explore the place. I walked through the town, across the university campus, up the trails of Chautauqua Park. The air was unlike any I'd ever known: thin, clean, and challenging. When I found the old Thornton farm for sale, I was almost troubled by the draw I felt to it. I telephoned Arnie and we talked about the asking price, the land included—all of the details I had no one else to share with.

  Arnie was excited for me and he urged me to hire a lawyer to handle the deal. In a month I was the new owner of the place. In two, I was living there, trying to let my life catch up to my decisions.

  Summer was on its way and I began to venture out to discover the community. One late afternoon I happened upon a carnival at the county fairgrounds. The colorful rides and brassy music brought memories of fairs I'd seen with my mother. The intent was the same: to provide distraction and to part people from their money. As I walked through the tiny midway, I found myself humming to the raucous tune of the carousel.

  The sun was beginning to set. Behind the horses and zoo animals whirling round and round, I caught sight of a tent. Fortunes 25 cents said the sign. I drew close enough to note the worn edges of the canvas structure, to detect the heavy incense escaping into the evening air.

  I'd almost walked past it when a woman appeared in the gap between the canvas panels that was the door. She was young and wore a peasant skirt with a muslin scoop-necked blouse. She smiled at me and waved me toward her. "Miss wants to know her fortune?" How many times had I accompanied Mum into such a place? Always she wanted to hear of love and riches to come.

  I shook my head but she took a step toward me. "Only twenty-five cents, and you will ask me questions I can answer."

  Something in her voice struck a chord. I walked toward her and as she lifted one of the flaps, I slipped into the darkness of the tent. It was so like all the tents I'd been in. The round table had a worn velvet cloth; a glow came from the crystal ball; thickening incense limned the air with mystery.

  "I am Madame Lizetta," she said, her voice deep now. "Be seated. Give me your token and I will tell your fortune."

  I gave her a quarter and she held out her hand. When I placed my own in it she bent to study the lines on my palm. I waited with a smile. Would her forecast include a tall, handsome man? Would she predict how many children I would bear? At that thought my smile died. I would never have children because my love was dead, killed by his own father.

  As if she could hear the sorrow in my thoughts, Madame Lizetta lifted her head to stare at me intently. "Who are you?" she whispered, but before I could answer she looked down again at my hand.

  By the time she released it her skin was ashen. "I know you," she whispered. "Mother Miriam told me you were coming."

  "What?" I felt I'd been knocked sideways. "What are you talking about?"

  The mysterious Madame Lizetta was gone, replaced by a young woman who was terribly frightened. As I stared, saucer-eyed, she spoke barely above a whisper, and so quickly that I had to bend toward her to catch every word.

  "You are a legend among the Romani. You carried the stone of evil and you escaped from the danger threatening our people. Mother Miriam told us few who read the stars about you, that you would find one of us someday. Never did I think it would be me." She broke off to look over her shoulder toward the door. "You are in great danger. The wicked lord has died but another is in his place. He seeks you and he lusts for vengeance. Most of all, he wants the stone."

  At this point I was shaking more than she was. Her hand tightened on mine. She was so pale I thought she might faint. "I will tell the people of you; you will have help to find protection. Mother Miriam held our promise to serve you. I am to tell you this: build tunnels and caves under the houses. Plan your escape before you need it. Hide the stone well." She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. Then she opened her eyes and looked deeply into mine. "You must find the women who will be your allies. Many will come, one by one. Among them you will find those you will need to protect what you have built."

  "But how will I—" I began, but she went on, holding fast to my hand, her eyes frightened. "The battle will come near the end of your life. The brave women will arrive over a short time. Then the evil will come to all of you. You must be valiant. You must win. Much depends on this."

  Her eyes were as dark as wells. "The stone must be destroyed." Her whisper thrilled along my nerves like an electrical current. "If it is not, someday it will win. Many will die."

  I pulled my hand from hers and stood up on shaky legs. "I don't—I don't—" I stepped backward from her and turned to leave the hot, heavy air of the tent.

  "You are not alone," she whispered. "But you must be as if you are. Do not trust. Judge each one yourself. Find the ones who will stand with you." Her head bent as she slumped more deeply into her chair. "We will do what we can, but the burden is yours."

  I heard nothing else as I plunged out into the air of the carnival. Nearly gagging on the stench of rancid butter and caramelized sugar I walked as fast as I could to the edge of the fairgrounds. It took forever to find my car, forever to fit the key into the ignition. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely hold onto the steering wheel.

  Somehow I returned to the house and locked the door behind me. I felt as if I had traveled through time, coming face to face with Clara, the foolish girl who fell in love with the son of an earl, only to lose him to evil. My whole life had been changed by that encounter. It had made me into another person. In the years since, I had papered over the cracks in that life, had continued onward to something I couldn't conceive of. Now, tonight, I had met with the plans someone—something had made for me. Miriam had spread my story across her world and now it had touched me again. Had I come full circle?

  I thought about that question as I proceeded methodically through the house, locking doors and windows, leaving lights on in this room and that. Never had I felt so alone in this place.

  When I finished barricading myself inside, I went into the old-fashioned kitchen and poured a glass of milk. In the silence I could hear an owl from the mountain and I had a sudden image of myself holding an owl's claw, struggling to make my way to heaven.

  Tonight was only one step, and I'd already taken so many. My story was not done. My task was not finished.

  This was the night when all the versions of myself, from the girl Clara to the woman I was now, became Caldicott Wyntham.

  Brenna set the laptop onto the coffee table. "That's all."

  Kerry let out a long breath. "I don't believe it," she said in a stunned voice. "But I do! How could she have been so—so sanguine about what was waiting for her? How could she have been who she was to all of us, knowing what was hanging over her?" Max wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she bent her head to rest against him. "She was more than valiant."

  The doorbell chimed from the front of the house and Strudel jumped off Aura Lee's chair, barking raucously. Rose groaned.

  "Who could that be?" Aura Lee asked in a scared voice. "It's late, isn't it?"

>   Rose got to her feet. "I don't even know. Who's coming with me?"

  Neal stood up, his knees cracking. "Oof, the wear and tear is getting to me."

  "You're not alone in that." Rose led the way through the forest of chairs and tables, Neal at her heels.

  Elizabeth leaned back in her chair. "I always knew this place was special." She waved one hand in frustration. "More than special, outside the ordinary, but this story she tells is flat-out strange." She sought Dolores, and spoke directly to her. "We've been away for a couple of months and everything has gotten deeper, more dangerous. What's your take on this?"

  Dolores's rich brown eyes reflected the movements of the flames in the fireplace. "In my culture we have brujas. Witches. They live in a heightened realm, aware of the things in life most people know nothing about. Caldicott lived in that world, too. Because we all came here to Wisdom Court, we've been welcomed into it as well."

  "Look who we found." Rose announced in a lively voice. She pulled a young man forward.

  "Dink!" Brenna surged to her feet and scrambled toward him. "You came. You're here."

  Dink grabbed hold of her as she threw herself against him. "I told you I would." He pushed her away to look into her face. "Are you okay?" His gaze rested on lump on her forehead. "What did the doctor say?"

  Brenna pulled him close. "I'm fine. I'm so glad to see you." His arms tightened around her and he pulled her close.

  Rose looked at the others and made an attempt at a smile. "I suggest we all have a nightcap and then adjourn to bed. We'll tackle everything tomorrow."

  Kerry looked troubled. "I'm all for some sleep, but I don't want to go back to my place. Max and I have already had a couple of go-rounds with the spirits who've moved in. Can we stay here tonight?"

  "I concur with Kerry," Noreen said firmly. "I have no desire to be alone in my room waiting for ghosts to appear for a midnight visit."

  "All right, you've made your point." Rose appealed to the group. "Shall we camp out here for the rest of the night?"