Since Louisa had no family to speak of, the funeral arrangements had gone relatively smoothly. Angelique and Tomes had only one estranged uncle and a couple of distant cousins scattered far and wide about the country or beyond. They had no list of family connections since no one had cared to stay in contact over the years. Angelique doubted she’d even recognize a blood kin should she ever meet any of them on the street.
The service was simple, conducted at Louisa’s gravesite beneath a partially enclosed pole-tent that barely fit beneath the outstretched limbs of an old oak.
Angelique and Tomes sat in the first of four rows staring at the pearl-colored coffin laid out before them, adorned with a wreath of white roses. Several other flower arrangements sat on either side of the casket, sent by friends and neighbors. A sorrowful hymn—In the Garden—played over a portable CD player, and when it was done, a song Louisa had always loved—Angel Band—followed, both more than befitting such a time of mourning.
A handful of friends and acquaintances paid their respects. They made polite appearances—rather expeditious with their condolences. Because she and Tomes were being portrayed as suspects in Louisa’s killing, she was surprised that any of them had bothered to show up at all. Still, she’d have been lying not to admit being spurned didn’t hurt—some of them lifelong neighbors, people she’d considered their closest friends. But at least she and Tomes had each other for support, and their tie was strong.
“Pamela sure made a fast getaway,” Tomes remarked with a glower.
“Well, with everything that’s been said about us on the news, they probably don’t know what to believe. We’re the talk of the town,” Angelique replied.
“Real friends would have stuck around. Take a look, sis.” He nodded. “As you can see, there’s no one left sitting here but us…just you and me.”
Angelique glanced back at the rows of empty chairs. Everyone was gone. “They’re most likely scared of getting involved.”
She blamed the media for slathering their unfortunate experience, along with insinuating speculation, across every news-broadcasting network and newspaper in the area. There was no escaping the injustice. And to make matters worse, the murder had now taken on national exposure.
“A lifetime here, and we can’t count on anyone in this town,” Tomes sounded resentful…indignant.
With the service ended and all attendees gone, the funeral director approached, ready to conclude the proceedings, but Angelique asked for a little more time.
She and Tomes sat in silent mourning, gazing on the casket. Neither said a single word for several minutes, each submerged in their memories of Louisa.
“I want to see her,” Tomes broke the silence, his desire unexpected.
“What?” Angelique shot him a questioning glance.
“You heard me, Angel. I want the casket opened so I can see her,” he persisted, standing and motioning for the director who stood at the back of the tent.
Angelique rose to her feet as the overweight, balding man hopped into action, a severe expression masking his face.
“Sir?” he responded.
“I want this lid opened so I can view my wife one last time.”
“Oh, sir, I w-wouldn’t recommend it,” the director discouraged, shaking his head, his thin lips stretched tight.
“I did request that you not seal the casket until services were completed. It hasn’t been sealed, has it?”
“No, no sir, it hasn’t. It’s just that, well, you may wish to remember her as she was, due to the circumstances…you understand.”
Angelique understood the director’s meaning. Louisa had undergone a complete autopsy, including the head and organs, and would probably have little resemblance to the woman they’d known and loved. Horrific images flashed in her mind of a stitched together corpse bride, filling her with dread.
“Tomes, maybe he’s right…the autopsy,” she reminded him, not wanting either of them plagued by nightmares for the rest of their days. At present, they had fond memories to hold onto of the beautiful woman she’d been in life. “I really don’t think you should.” Angelique tried to deter her brother from making what she feared would be a mistake.
“How many times do I have to say it, Angel, I want the casket opened.” Tomes was determined.
The director started to protest again, “Sir, I really—”
“Either you open it, or I’ll do it myself,” Tomes snapped.
The director looked at Angelique, biting the tip of his thumb nervously. She knew he was hoping for further support, but Angelique offered none. Despite her fears, she had no right to interfere in such a personal matter regarding her brother. If Tomes needed to see Louisa one last time for closure, who was she to stand in the way of that?
“Please open it,” she told the director. “My brother needs to see his wife…say goodbye.”
Angelique heard the director release a grumble beneath his breath.
“All right, just one minute,” he muttered, hustling over to the east side of the tent and lowering the wall flap, leaving only the west side of the shelter open.
Angelique didn’t understand the purpose of the director’s actions. The interior was already dim and the sun had reached a position where it cast no bothersome rays, leaving her to conclude that he must have been attempting to darken the space in hopes of cushioning the terrible shock to come. She shuddered at the thought, wondering just how butchered Louisa was. Unable to stop herself, once again Angelique imagined the worst of conditions—an autopsied nightmare.
Tomes stood next to the casket while the director unlatched the top. Angelique, standing alongside, held tightly onto his arm for support, just in case her knees should grow weak. Taking a deep breath, she squinted while the director raised the left portion of the lid, exposing the upper body. Awaiting the harsh impact, she stiffened. When Louisa’s face came into view, a cold chill swept up her spine. She exhaled and took a staggering step back, looking down on her sister-in-law in astonishment. The autopsy marks were hardly noticeable, as if she’d been stitched back together with the utmost precision and care by a master surgeon.
“She’s beautiful,” Angelique whispered, looking up at Tomes, unable to believe how calm he remained. However, she couldn’t say the same about the director, who stood with mouth agape, his shocked expression telling her that he, too, had expected much worse. Till this point, she’d assumed he’d been the one to prepare the body for burial, but by his reaction, she realized someone else must have done the job.
“I’ll give you some privacy,” the man backed away and returned to his previous position at the back of the tent.
Angelique stared at Louisa and quivered inside at the pristine condition of her body, looking so healthy it was haunting. Instead of seeing the pieced-together corpse bride she’d envisioned, an angel lay there in that silk-lined casket, clothed in a feminine blue dress. A double strand of white pearls wrapped her neckline, a gift from Tomes on their first anniversary. She was a vision to behold, far from the condition one would expect of a four-day-old autopsied corpse. Angelique couldn’t help worrying that Louisa might open her eyes, sit up, and speak at any given moment, shocking all three of them into heart failure. And with that thought, Angelique grew lightheaded and had to sit down.
“Are you okay?” Tomes helped her to a chair.
“Just a little overwhelmed. You take the time you need to say goodbye. I’ll be fine right here,” she assured him.
Tomes stepped back over to the casket and took Louisa’s hand. He leaned in close and spoke to her in a soft, loving voice.
“I feel you with me, even now, inspiring me from beyond the grave. You must know you were cherished. You didn’t deserve this…not you.”
He wiped his cheeks, unable to hold back his tears.
“You will always own my heart,” he gently rubbed her fingers. “Forever…I will love you forever. You’ll live on in my heart and in my memories. You’ll never be forgotten. I just wish… I wi
sh that…,” he stumbled with what he wanted to say. “I wish you were with me now, that we had more time. I wish I knew why this happened. I wish so many things.”
Angelique watched through swelling tears as Tomes placed a soft kiss on Louisa's lips. She wondered how their lives had made such a drastic turn, leading them to this point, with Tomes standing over Louisa’s casket, saying goodbye to the woman he had planned to spend the rest of his life with.
“I love you, bright eyes,” he whispered. “I was going to leave you with the words of our song, To Me—the one we played at our wedding and a thousand times since. But this morning when I was dressing to come here, a Bonnie Tyler song came on the radio, Total Eclipse of the Heart. And she had it right, bright eyes.”
This should have been a private moment for Tomes, but Angelique didn’t want to leave him alone. If he needed her, she meant to be there for him. But out of respect, she turned away, trying not to watch, but she couldn’t help overhearing as he sang to Louisa in a hushed voice, his final serenade drawing her eyes back as her heart broke for her brother.
Tomes stared fixedly into Louisa’s face as if willing her to live. Angelique felt his dark depression and fearing for his state of mind, for his life, she mumbled a prayer to God, that He might comfort Tomes and be a light to guide him through this dark, dismal time.
She’d seen Tomes suffer before, with the loss of their parents, but never to such a critical degree. She knew better than anyone how much he loved Louisa, but she had to make him see that life does go on and somehow deter him from continuing down his current path of self-destruction. He had barely slept or ate since the murder, and the strain was evident in his physical appearance. She could only hope that the old saying was true and time really did heal all wounds.
The director coughed, prompting Angelique to glance back. Seeing him fidgeting, she rose, stepped over to Tomes, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you ready?”
“I’ll never be ready to leave her. How can I?”
“She’s in heaven now. This is just her earthly body…an empty shell.”
“You really think she’s in heaven? You truly believe that?”
“Of course, where else would she be? Louisa was a good person. She was well loved, Tomes, by you and by me. And we’ll be with her again one day, on the other side.”
With that said, Tomes kissed Louisa one last time, let go of her hand, and backed away from the casket. Angelique motioned for the director to close the lid, finding him quick in performing the task. Although, she had to admit relief at having it once again closed, for the sight of Louisa lying there, a sleeping beauty, was utterly disturbing. Something didn’t feel quite right, but she never would have revealed her fears to Tomes.
Before leaving, Angelique took one of two white roses and laid it atop the casket. “Rest in peace, Louisa,” she released the stem.
Passing the second one to Tomes, he kissed the velvety tip before laying it across the first rose. “Goodbye, my love,” he whispered, a tear trickling from his right eye, trailing down his cheek, and dropping onto the casket.
Angelique grasped Tomes’s arm and they turned away. As they left Louisa to her final resting, the words to Angel Band weighed heavily on her mind, the melody, from this day forth, forever to remind her of this sad, sad day.
* * * *
Corin awoke with a start and crawled out of his hollowed crypt forged into the earth along the back wall of the dark room—a lion emerging from his lair. He cocked his head while sniffing the air. A steady rumble emanated from the depths of his throat. Someone was in the house!
Sensing the presence growing nearer, he quickly took cover behind some stored furniture. Within seconds, the door above him creaked open, allowing the light of day to penetrate the recess. He looked up and squinted, able to make out the form of a man standing in the doorway.
“Corin,” the intruder called out. “Are you down there? What am I saying? Of course you’re down there. Where else would you be?”
Recognizing the voice, Corin stepped out of hiding. “Shut the door…please,” he yelled up to Tomes, shielding his sensitive eyes.
“I’d be happy to accommodate, but unlike you, I can’t see in the dark. There’s a light switch here. Can I flip it on?”
“No, I’ve got it down here.” Corin lit a lantern that cast plenty of light for Tomes to find his way.
“I know you wouldn’t want me to fall and break my neck,” Tomes remarked snidely.
“Of course not,” Corin responded. “And if this visit is about Angelique, you have nothing to be concerned about.”
“Not entirely,” Tomes shut the door and started down the narrow staircase. “You know, you should consider installing an inside lock on the door. You’re vulnerable down here. Anyone could bust in on you, and they may not all be as nice as me.”
“Nice…are you sure you know the meaning of the word?” Corin threw back with a deriding laugh.
“Of course I do, von Vadim,” Tomes was smug. “But why waste manners—”
“On the likes of me?” Corin finished.
Tomes didn’t deny it. “So, this is how a creature of the night spends his days.” He stopped at the foot of the stairs and scanned the basement. “And you sleep there?” he motioned to the crypt. “Befitting, I guess…an animal in a cave.”
“A nightwalker in his bed,” Corin corrected, trying not to let Tomes’s loathsome remarks agitate him. “And it’s who I am, Tomes. You know that.”
“It’s quite a mess down here, a mixture of storage space, tomb, and some semblance of a bedroom.” Tomes moved further into the room. “Musty too. A couple of air vents wouldn’t hurt…or a window. But the light would shine in and what, burn you to a crisp?”
Corin sighed. Tomes’s offensive, tiresome yapping was growing old.
“Seriously, though, you’re down here in a hole, sleeping in pitch dark, breathing stale air. You’re like a—”
“Don’t say it!” Corin cut him off.
Tomes was obviously trying to rile him, and it was working. His patience was beginning to run thin. He did have his limits, after all, and Tomes had dished out just about all the insolence he could stand for the moment.
“You don’t care for being compared to animals, huh? But you don’t mind living like one down here in this heap,” Tomes braved one more comment.
“How about you just tell me why you’re here. What’s so important that it couldn’t wait till evening?” Corin bit his bottom lip, striving to control his rising temper, for Angelique’s sake. He would do just about anything for her, and he knew how much she loved her brother.
“You know why I’m here. I want to know what you’ve learned about the nightwalker.”
“Nothing yet, I’m sorry to say.”
“We can’t let him get away. Isn’t there anything I can do to help? I can’t just sit around doing nothing. I’ll go crazy.”
“There is, actually. I was trying to find out if anyone purchased any local properties over the last few weeks, but the real estate offices close by the time I get around to them. Maybe you could make some inquiries, taking special note of any larger homesteads. Any place that would offer a nightwalker the seclusion and privacy he’d require.”
“I can do that. I take it you think this nightwalker might be planning on sticking around, then?”
“It’s just a feeling…a place to start.”
“Okay. I’ll get right on it.”
“I have something that might help.” Corin fetched his wallet, pulling out a business card, giving it a quick glance before handing it to Tomes. “I was at Purcell’s Garage and he passed along this agent’s card. Her name is Sandy Darnell. She’s with Brookside Realty over in Black River Falls.”
“I know the place.”
“Good. I tried to reach her several times at the cell number listed, but she never answered. Maybe you’ll have better luck.”
“I’ll head on over there and see what I can find out.”
<
br /> “You know, Tomes, you could do with a little rest,” Corin remarked. “You look like hell.”
“I put my wife in her grave this morning,” Tomes replied somberly. “I won’t rest until the demon that killed her pays, and pays good, with my kind of justice.”
Corin understood Tomes’s pain, having endured his own share of losses over his long years of walking the earth. More, in fact, than he’d ever care to remember.
“When we catch this monster…then I’ll rest,” Tomes rubbed his eyes, wiping away gathering tears before they had a chance to fall.
“We do have to catch up with him, and soon, because he’ll kill again.” Corin knew the insatiable hunger of the creature, what such a craving could do to one’s sanity, something he fought every fall of night. “It takes a strong will to fight the thirst.”
“You haven’t forgotten that when the time comes, this nightwalker is mine, have you?” Tomes reminded Corin. “Like I said, I’ll do the serving, and it’ll be my kind of justice. The Bible says ‘eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot,’ and before that it clearly states, ‘life for a life.’ I am due my right of retribution, and I’m warning you, Corin, if you get in my way, I’ll do you in without a second thought.”
“We need to know what we’re facing before taking any action, and we know nothing about this newcomer.”
“It makes no difference to me who or what he is. Louisa will get her justice. I know there’s no love loss between us, but I need your help to find this monster. And when we get him, I’ll take my vengeance.”
“I’ll work with you, Tomes, only because I don’t wish to see you dead. Despite your disdain of me, we do share a connection. Your father was a friend, and I cared too much for him not to look out for you now.”
Corin meant what he said. He would look out for Tomes, but he labored with uncertainty over the matter of the nightwalker. He had no intention of killing the newcomer if he was merely passing through the area, doing only what it was in his nature to do—feed. However, if the nightwalker did plan to linger, Corin would make one thing clear to the immortal, that his community and the people in Hixton were, without negotiation, off limits. But in order to confront the nightwalker, he first had to find him, a task he knew would be a feat in itself.
Corin & Angelique (After the Fall of Night) Page 6
