Ripples in the Shadows

by Kathy Dexter

  She grabbed her amulet. Three sapphire beams shot into the air and snatched shafts of lightning from the clouds. The bolts bombarded the intruders. Blue flames scorched the men’s clothes and chewed along their skin.

  Howling, the thugs collapsed and rolled about the ground, attempting to smother the burning chunks of fire. They staggered to their feet and scrambled toward the woods.

  Hunter poured more magical rays into the clouds. Deepening in intensity, thunder snarled like an angry beast. The huge black mass exploded. A deluge spewed from the skies, smashed into the enemy, and drove them to their knees.

  Coughing, choking, sobbing, the drenched creatures managed to scuttle toward the trees.

  As she surveyed the wreckage, Hunter gasped, stumbled backwards, and released the amulet. What have I done?

  She leaped toward the phone on the bedside table and dialed 911. When she finished giving information to the operator, Hunter flew down the stairs and opened the door to the porch to find Shadow hovering against the wall, white fur matted by the sheeting rain. Grabbing a towel, Hunter wrapped it around the cat and rubbed until she became a ball of soft fluff once more.

  Hunter sank against the wall and closed her eyes against the nightmare that had come to life.

  “Where are you?” Ally shouted from the second floor.

  Shadow licked Hunter’s hand and vaulted toward the stairs, leading the way to Hunter’s room.

  Ally stared out the window. “The weather’s gone haywire.” The storm continued to whip across earth and sky. Rivulets of mud raced to the lake. Waves surged forward, whipping the shore and flooding the terrain.

  As she pressed her hands against the panes of glass, Hunter told her friend what happened. “I have to stop this. If I can.”

  Heart beating triple time, she merged with her magical core, its power heightened and strengthened when she and Logan recharged the dragon. Hunter flung her hands outward and pushed the clouds with an intangible, mystical force swirling through her. The storm resisted and bunched into huge mounds of black ugliness. Sweat dripped down her cheeks and off her chin. Gathering turbulent energies, Hunter launched them against the boiling clouds.

  The darkness softened; the storm chugged to a halt. By degrees, the wildness dissipated.

  Stars peeped through shreds of mist. Silvery light from a shimmering moon coated the lulled waves and brightened the sodden land.

  Hopping up and down, Ally clutched Hunter around the waist. “You did it!”

  In the distance high-pitched sirens squealed. Hunter pulled on clothes and then sprinted down the stairs with Ally to face the fire trucks and police cars now jamming the driveway and road. Red and blue lights gyrated like drunken ballerinas, dancing along the cottage, the woods, the night.

  Several uniformed men approached the women. A patrolman wrote down Hunter’s story about intruders attempting to set fire to the house, while a firefighter surveyed the premises. “Lucky that downpour took care of the flames, but we'll check to make sure the house is okay and there aren't any embers.”

  Hunter led them to the back of the house and pointed out where the attackers had emerged from the woods and where they'd departed when the rain fell.

  Despite the grounds being water-logged, several firemen inspected the area for any residual flames, cinders, or hot ash. A couple of policemen began a methodical search from the back of the cottage toward the lake for evidence the troublemakers might have left behind.

  “Man, I've never seen the lake this high,” a young officer muttered through the beginnings of a mustache.

  A second cop patted a hefty paunch. “Them rains came fast and furious.”

  Hunter kept her mouth shut but stayed close, out of sight, wary not to contaminate the scene. She wanted to be there if they found any trace of the intruders. Why had they attacked the cottage? Were they after her? Could these be the friends Sylvia had mentioned? The idea that someone would actually want to hurt her kindled trills of fear around her heart.

  She could use Logan’s help. Hunter reached into her pocket for his card. Nuts! She’d put it on her nightstand.

  Hunter waved to Ally. “Please call Logan. His card is by the phone in my bedroom.”

  Ally nodded and headed inside.

  Despite the threat, the danger, Hunter felt alive for the first time in a long while. She'd faced an enemy, fought back, and won the battle.

  She'd lived in a shadow world far too long, taking safety for granted. Was she going to let bullies run her off? No! She could feel the blood churning, the black curtain rustling wildly, demanding to be pulled back. She would uncover the truth.

  Shouting commands, uniformed men scurried about with flashlights, illuminating patches of dark puddles that peppered the terrain from the house to the water-soaked edge of the woods.

  They must have found something.

  Helmet in hand, a young fireman with tousled blond hair rushed up to his captain. “We found gas cans and bottles filled with liquid, cloth strips dangling from the top. A wick?”

  “Molotov cocktails.” The fire chief signaled to a policeman hurrying from the shoreline. “You better get a detective and some techs here fast. We got some nasty arsonists at work.”

  “More than that.” The policeman pulled out his phone, hand shaking. “Bones washed up on shore. Human ones.”

  CHAPTER 11

  A FTER LISTENING TO ALLY’S agitated but clear message, Logan hauled on the first clothes he could find. He grabbed his keys and moved toward the door when Chief Stoner called and briefed him.

  The trip to the cottage only took minutes. Logan’s heart flip-flopped at the sight of all the emergency vehicles. Jogging down the driveway, he spotted Hunter surrounded by a circle of uniforms, her arms folded, hands rubbing her upper arms.

  He hustled over. “Go inside and get warm. I'll fill you in as soon as I can.”

  Hunter nodded and hurried toward the front porch. Shadow traveled by her side, growling, ears twitching.

  “Show me what you found,” Logan said to the men.

  They led him to the lake. As they progressed, he directed them to place markers in the sopping wet grass where the gas cans and bottles had been located. Then he crossed the lawn and stood by the bones to wait for the forensics team, while a patrolman gave him details of the night’s activities.

  When the lab crew arrived, Logan sent half to the woods and the rest to the lakeshore. As the techs set about their tasks, he squatted to get a closer look at the bones.

  “Is that a ring on the finger bone, Mason?” he asked.

  “Could be, sir.” The tech took pictures, then dropped the object into a plastic bag, jotting notes with a black marker.

  Logan put on gloves and reached for the bag. When he clicked on his flashlight, a blue stone winked at him. Exactly like the one in Hunter's amulet.

  “Can you estimate how old these bones might be?” he asked.

  “I'd hate to guess, sir. We'll find out in the lab.”

  “Ten years?”

  Mason shrugged. “Maybe.”

  Logan grinned. “Don’t have your ESP working?”

  “Sounds like you might have an idea who the victim might be.”

  Another member of the forensics team shouted for Mason.

  “Go on.” Logan waved a hand. “I’ll hang on to the bones until you get back.”

  Mason gave a casual salute and trotted toward the woods.

  Footsteps sounded from the opposite direction. Electric currents sparked inside him. “You shouldn’t be here,” he told Hunter. “We haven’t finished gathering evidence.”

  “I couldn't stay away.”

  He recognized worry and questions in her face. “I have no answers for you yet.”

  “I didn't expect you would.”

  “Where's Ally?” Perhaps her friend could keep her occupied.

  “Making coffee and sandwiches.” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  “Why don’t you tell
me what happened?”

  She recited the details of the intruders creeping up to the house and flinging bottles that burst into flames. Her voice cracked a little when she described the lightning bolts she’d thrown at the men, the storm she’d unleashed, and her fear she wouldn’t be able to stop the overflowing waters.

  “But you did.” He maintained a professional objectivity and distance despite wanting to hold her, tell her he’d protect her. Guilt swarmed through his gut. He hadn’t been here when she needed him. Last night he’d pushed aside her misgivings about Sylvia’s friends, downplayed her worries, believing the threat didn’t really exist. He’d been wrong. If Hunter had been hurt. . .On the other hand, she’d fought off the perps as she’d done at the museum. A warrior princess like the heroine in her book. How could he make her see that? Believe that?

  “I didn’t stop those thugs from getting away,” she muttered.

  “Can you describe them?”

  “I couldn't see their faces. Or perhaps they wore masks. But when they fled, one limped and another held his arm as though he might have broken it.”

  “And how did that happen?”

  “They might have bumped into each other.” Her tone claimed innocence, but her pink cheeks contradicted that.

  A smile tugged at his lips. “After being struck by lightning and inundated with floods of water?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe just clumsy runners.”

  Logan touched her lightly on the shoulder. “You should be proud of how you handled the situation. You protected Ally and yourself from people out to harm you.”

  Her blue eyes gleamed in the moonlight. “I actually felt empowered.”

  “In control?”

  “A little shaky on that.” Her mouth curved upward.

  He kept a straight face. “Takes practice.”

  “I’ll work on it.” She glanced toward the bag lying on the ground nearby. “Are those the bones that washed up? One of the policemen said they were human.”

  He hesitated before answering. “Yes.”

  “You have some suspicions about these particular bones?”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Answering a question with a question?” Her gaze held his. “Do you suspect a connection to me?”

  He kept his expression noncommittal. “No way to know.”

  “Not very talkative, are you?”

  “The policeman in me.”

  Her hand brushed his arm. “Tell me about them.”

  “A ring worn on one of the bone fingers has the same blue amber that’s in your amulet.”

  Shadows swam in her eyes, and her grip tightened. “Are the bones ten years old?”

  She was quick. “Hard to tell until the lab completes some tests.” He put his hand over hers. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

  “If the storm hadn't occurred . . .would those bones have washed ashore?”

  “After all this time?” Didn’t seem likely. “What made you wake up and spot the intruders?”

  “I had a nightmare.”

  “About?”

  “The usual. But worse this time.” She stopped talking.

  He pushed a little. “Can you tell me about it?”

  She shuffled her feet and looked off in the distance across the lake. “The water's calm now, but in my dream the waves were angry, churning, trying to smother me.”

  “Drown you?”

  “I couldn't make it to shore no matter how hard I tried.”

  “Then you woke up?”

  “Not before a boat disintegrated into unidentifiable scraps and sank.”

  “Anyone on board?”

  “I can't––”

  He put his arm around her shoulder, drawing her close. The bones might be connected to your dream.

  She inhaled sharply and shifted to peer into his eyes. Am I starting to remember?

  Or fighting against the memories.

  Why?

  Maybe what you saw was too much to accept.

  You know what happened to me?

  Yes.

  Were you there?

  Logan couldn't lie to her, but the truth shouldn’t come from him. He said nothing.

  Hunter disengaged from his embrace and moved toward the bag. A shaft of luminous moonlight glanced off the bone finger’s amber ring. She bent down and touched the ring through the plastic covering.

  “No!” she cried and fell to the ground, unconscious.

  Lifting her in his arms, Logan carried her to the cottage. “Ally!”

  Ally opened the door, took one look at her friend, and motioned him inside. Logan settled Hunter on the couch and covered her with a crocheted afghan. Ally ran to the kitchen, returned with a cold compress, and placed it against her friend's forehead. “Will she be okay?”

  “I think she just fainted.” Logan told Ally about the bones.

  Hunter groaned, shifted under the afghan and opened her eyes. She sat up and blinked.

  Ally hugged her. “You’re all right.”

  “I feel a little silly for passing out.”

  Relieved, Logan knelt beside Hunter. Too much had happened far too quickly. “Are you sure you’re okay? I should call a doctor.”

  “Please don’t. I’m fine. When I touched the bone, some kind of electricity zapped me. Things went black for a moment.”

  “The stone?”

  A knock interrupted them. Ally opened the front door to Dr. Fleming, who breezed past her, bag in hand. “I don't usually make house calls, but I was told this was an emergency.”

  Logan moved to stand in front of the doctor, keeping his face expressionless. “Who contacted you?” The speed of the doctor’s arrival was suspicious.

  Fleming didn't answer. He tried to maneuver around Logan. “I must see my patient.”

  Hunter’s voice was strong. “No, Dr. Paul. I don’t require medical attention.”

  “Perhaps you should leave such a decision to the professionals, young lady.” Fleming shoved Logan aside.

  Logan allowed it, wanting to see what the man would do next.

  Shadow sprang into Hunter’s lap and hissed at him. The doctor backed away. Nose in the air, he commanded, “Remove this creature so I can do my job.”

  Hunter wrapped her arms around the cat. “That's not necessary, Dr. Paul. I'm fine.”

  “You have no medical degree. I'm sure you understand if I don't accept your diagnosis, young lady.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a small bottle of pills. “But since you've taken it upon yourself to reject my services, I see no point in remaining. I'll be sure and let your aunt know, however. She might feel that the locals aren’t up to safeguarding her precious niece.” A sneer laced his words and glimmered in his eyes. “These should help you sleep for the remainder of the night.” He placed the pills on the coffee table, nodded briefly, and departed.

  Face flushed, Hunter knocked the pills onto the floor.

  “Don't want those?” Logan asked with a smile.

  “Not after I saw what Sylvia experienced. And why is he giving me a whole new bottle when he just gave me one two nights ago? Doesn't he remember? Or is he pushing them on me for some reason?”

  “Just what I was thinking.” Ally jumped up. “I’ll get you a nice cup of tea. Much better than his questionable medicine.”

  “How come he’s still in town? He should have gone with Aunt Miranda.”

  “Might be interesting to find out.” Logan picked up the pills. “Think I’ll have the lab test these.”

  “Along with the bones?” Hunter asked.

  Logan nodded. “What happened when you touched the ring?”

  She shuddered. “My nightmare.”

  “Boat sinking?”

  “Exploding into smithereens.”

  “Waves engulfing you?”

  “No. It was only about the boat.”

  He wrote in his notebook, then tucked it in his shirt pocket with the pills. “Will you try to remember exactly what you saw? Write it down?”
>
  She closed her eyes.

  Leaning down, he waited until she opened them. “If you ever want your memory to return, you'll have to examine your nightmare, learn what it’s trying to tell you.”

  “There's only darkness.”

  “Then you'll have to let in the light, pull back the curtain, and see the wizard is only a small man playing tricks.”

  He'd made her dimples appear and her eyes sparkle with amusement.

  That was enough for now.

  CHAPTER 12

  E ARLY MONDAY MORNING, as a pale-yellow sun colored the horizon reddish-pink, Logan yawned his way through the front door of the police station. Before he could pour a cup of the caffeinated sludge the sergeant called coffee, Chief Clint Stoner beckoned him into his office.

  Stoner leaned back in his chair. “What ya got on that business last night? Just a coupla girls frightened by the storm?”

  “You think the women made up a story about men creeping out of the woods, yelling at them to get out of town, and flinging Molotov cocktails at the cottage?” Logan rubbed his eyes. Must be lack of sleep making him read too much into the chief’s words. He could really use that coffee. “The incendiary devices, some smashed, others unbroken and full of gas, plus the singed grass near the house kind of rule that out. And the attack came before the downpour, which probably prevented more destruction.”

  Stoner frowned. “Lab boys checking for prints?”

  Logan nodded. “They should have the results by this afternoon. I called before driving into work.”

  “Understand you spent the night watchin’ the house.” Stoner’s face didn’t reveal anything. “Necessary?”

  Logan sighed. Scuttlebutt spread through the station house at unbelievable speed. “Kind of late for the women to find a safer place to stay for the night. A patrolman took my place this morning.”

  “No sign of the perps returning?”

  “Nope.”

  “Better get the women out of there. Just in case.”

  “I suggested it might be a good idea to stay at a hotel for a few days. More people around, security available.” Logan’s mouth twisted to one side at the memory. “They refused to budge.”