by Tracey Smith
Cassidy felt like an innocent young girl waiting for her first kiss, she leaned in slightly parting her lips. Ben pulled away. He turned from her, still holding her under his arm, but now it felt almost like he was holding her at bay.
“The storm should be passing soon.” Ben said looking away from her and out into the forest. Cassidy felt deflated and confused. She tried to regain her composure.
“How far are we from the house?” She asked, clearing her throat and pulling out from under his arm, he let her slip away dropping his arm back to his side.
“Not far.” He said, still not looking at her. “We can walk as soon as the rain lets up.”
Cassidy pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, Ben continued to stare out at the waning storm. The silence dragged between them giving Cassidy a chance to think about what had just happened. Someone had run them off the road. She began considering each attempt against her, analyzing them, trying to occupy her mind with thoughts about anything other than why Ben hadn’t kissed her.
“Did you make the lunch you brought to me?” She asked eventually breaking the silence. His head whipped around to face her, he looked shocked and hurt.
“Yeah, and I was driving the car that ran us off the road too.” He said sarcastically, anger clearly burning in his eyes.
“Ben, that’s not what I meant.” Cassidy said calmly. “Who made the food?” She asked again.
“Lucy did.” Ben said obviously frustrated.
“Did she hand it to you?” Cassidy pressed.
“What do you mean?” He asked annoyed.
“Did she actually hand you the tray of food?” Cassidy reiterated.
“No.” Ben hesitated. “I had asked her to fix something for you then went to take a shower and the food was waiting on the table when I came back down.” He answered more calmly as if finally understanding her line of questioning.
“Do you realize what that means?” Cassidy asked. “It means whoever is trying to hurt me was in the house.”
“They must have been following us today. Did you get a look at that car?” Ben asked.
“I only saw that it was black.” Cassidy said regretfully.
“Me too.” Ben looked frustrated and deep in thought. “Come on. The rain is letting up, we need to get back to the house.”
The Chosen One paced furiously. Innocents were not supposed to be harmed. Only she deserved that fate. It was her fault, her fault that innocents had to be sacrificed. The blood was on her hands. But it was over now, everything was finally set right again. It had to be done.
Chapter Ten
It took over an hour to walk back to the house along the muddy mountain road in the steady rain. When they finally arrived Cassidy was soaked, freezing and exhausted. The only thing she could think of was a hot bath and warm bed. Until she saw the black sedan parked in the driveway. She clutched Ben’s arm in terror and stopped dead in her tracks staring at the black car.
“I see it.” He said grimly staring at the car along with her. “Follow me.” He led her around to the detached garage on the left side of the house. Cassidy was grateful for the momentary reprieve from the rain as they ducked inside, but she was startled to find another black car parked inside the garage.
“That’s just Lucy’s car.” Ben explained taking her hand and leading her to a desk. He opened a safe and removed a small revolver. “Just in case.” He assured her as he loaded the gun then tucked it into the waistband beneath his shirt.
Cassidy followed him to the house shivering almost violently. He didn’t lead her to the front door but instead they walked around the back to the kitchen door. Something caught Cassidy’s eye as they crept around the side of the house. She looked up at the large arched window on the third floor and thought she saw movement within, as if someone was watching them.
“Stay behind me.” Ben instructed as they reached the door. Cassidy nodded and stepped behind him, peering around his shoulder. He rested one hand against the gun at his waist and opened the door letting it swing wide before they both stepped through in unison.
“Ben!” Mrs. Owens exclaimed in shock immediately rising from the table. “My goodness, what happened to you?” She asked rushing over to him full of concern. Ben instantly relaxed allowing his hand to fall from the hidden weapon. Cassidy glanced over at the table and was surprised to see Mr. Woodard sitting there with a cup of coffee in his hand. He looked just as surprised as she felt, holding his coffee suspended a few inches from his lips in an awkward frozen pose.
“You two look absolutely dreadful!” Mrs. Owens cried, ushering them both to the table. “Let me get some towels.” She rushed from the room leaving Ben and Cassidy with a slightly more composed Mr. Woodard. He’d placed his coffee cup back on the table, but was still staring at them with open shock.
“What brings you here, Mr. Woodard?” Ben broke the tense silence.
“I had just stopped by to check on Cassidy. I heard that she’d been in the hospital.” Mr. Woodard explained quickly.
Mrs. Owens returned with an armful of towels. “Now what on earth happened to you two?” She demanded.
Cassidy allowed Ben to explain as she wrapped a towel around her shoulders and used another to dry her hair. She tried to hide her surprise when Ben blamed their accident on the weather and left out the part about the other car running them off the road.
“Your truck went off the mountain?” Mrs. Owens blanched. “You could have been killed.” Tears instantly welled in her eyes. Mr. Woodard shifted anxiously in his seat.
“Luckily we’re fine, just a little shaken and cold. I do need to call the sheriff and file an accident report.” Ben said.
“I should be going.” Mr. Woodard said standing abruptly. “Ben, Cassidy, I am so relieved that you survived your harrowing ordeal. It must have been awful. You obviously have some things to attend to so I will get out of your way. Lucy, thank you for the coffee.” Mr. Woodard quickly excused himself and headed for the front door. Mrs. Owens walked him out.
“Why did you lie about what happened?” Cassidy whispered once they were alone.
“The fewer people that know, the better.” Ben explained quietly.
“Is there anything I can get you?” Mrs. Owens asked as she came back into the kitchen.
“I think what we both need right now is a hot shower.” Ben said standing. For just a moment, in her half-delirious exhausted state Cassidy pictured the two of them in the shower together.
“You definitely need to get out of those wet clothes before you catch a fever; Cassidy is already looking flushed.” Mrs. Owens worried. Cassidy suppressed a hysterical giggle, knowing full well what was causing her blush.
“A shower sounds wonderful.” Cassidy agreed standing from the table and following Ben out of the kitchen. He walked her to her room.
“Are you okay?” He asked as they stopped in front of her door.
“I think I am.”
They stared into each other’s eyes for an endless moment. All of the unspoken words swirling between them.
“I’m right down the hall if you need me.” Ben said brusquely then turned and left her at her door. She watched him walk down the hall before she went into her room.
She closed the door and dragged the desk chair over propping it under the handle. Then she went to the bathroom and turned on the shower, closing and locking that door as well.
Cassidy came downstairs some time later to find Ben sitting at the kitchen table with the sheriff. Mrs. Owens was busy at the stove preparing dinner. Both men turned to face her as she entered the room.
“Miss St. Claire.” The officer nodded. “I understand you’ve been through quite a lot today, but I would like to get your statement of the events as well if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.” Cassidy agreed. She sat at the table and glanced toward Ben, he nodded at her encouragingly. Cassidy recounted the story as the officer took notes. Mrs. Owens continued to fuss over the meal unobtrusi
vely in the background.
“Well I think I have all I need.” The officer said once he’d taken down Cassidy’s statement. “We’ll be in touch.” He said standing. He shook hands with Ben and nodded toward Cassidy before leaving.
“Why didn’t you tell me someone ran you off the road?” Mrs. Owens demanded as soon as they were alone.
“What time did Mr. Woodard get here?” Ben asked, instead of answering her question.
“Only a few minutes before you arrived.” Mrs. Owens answered. “Just long enough to brew a pot of coffee. I’d say you almost gave the poor man a heart attack busting through the back door looking like a couple of drowned rats.”
“So he hadn’t been here long?” Ben pressed.
“Not long.” Mrs. Owens confirmed. “What’s going on Benjamin?” She demanded.
“I don’t know yet.” Ben answered. “But I’m going to find out.”
Mrs. Owens glanced over at Cassidy looking concerned. Cassidy shrugged helplessly, she couldn’t explain any of this even if she wanted to. Frustrated, Mrs. Owens turned back to the stove to finish preparing dinner. A heavy silence descended over the kitchen.
Mrs. Owens laid out a delicious pasta primavera and homemade French bread, then with one last look of exasperated concern she excused herself to her room leaving Ben and Cassidy to their dinner.
“The farmer’s market is tomorrow.” Ben finally broke the tense silence. Cassidy glanced up but wasn’t sure how to respond. “I have to go.” Ben added apologetically.
“Of course you do.” Cassidy understood completely, selling his crops at the farmer’s market was his only income at the moment.
“I think you should stay here.” He seemed torn as if he was afraid to leave her alone.
“Ok. If that’s what you want.”
“Promise me you’ll stay in the house?” Ben asked. “I’m going to have to take Lucy’s car into town so that I can borrow a truck to haul the crops. I won’t be back until late afternoon.” He told her.
“I’m a big girl, Ben.” Cassidy smiled reassuringly. “I’ll be fine. I’m sure Mrs. Owens and I can keep ourselves occupied for an afternoon without you.”
Ben didn’t look reassured, but his only other option was to take Cassidy into town with him and apparently he thought that was even more dangerous than leaving her behind.
“Just stay in the house.” He repeated. She was both touched and terrified by his obvious concern. She silently nodded her agreement.
When Cassidy woke the next morning Ben was already gone. She’d known he would be, but she still felt deflated as she sat alone at the kitchen table. Mrs. Owens was buzzing around the kitchen as usual, leaving Cassidy to dwell on her own thoughts.
Unavoidably Cassidy began replaying all of the events since she’d arrived in Cedar Hollow. There was no point in denying the obvious, someone was definitely trying to hurt her and they were getting bolder by the day. Cassidy was sure that the attempts against her must be linked to her family’s tragedies as well. There had to be a reason, a motive, something from the past. Suddenly Cassidy realized that Mrs. Owens must’ve lived in this house when her grandparents died, she had known them, perhaps she might know something that would shed some light on this mystery.
“Mrs. Owens, do you remember my grandparents?” Cassidy asked as she picked at her oatmeal. Mrs. Owens paused in her meticulous cleaning, but only momentarily.
“Curtis and Liz came here with their girls in the late 70’s.” Mrs. Owens answered as she resumed scrubbing the countertops. “Of course the children were half-grown by then.”
“Where had they been?” Cassidy asked, intrigued. She hadn’t realized that the family had ever lived elsewhere.
“From what I understand, they moved away right after they married, I’m not sure where exactly. They didn’t keep in touch.” Mrs. Owen’s tone was clipped.
“What brought them back?” Cassidy was on the edge of her seat, she felt like she was on the verge of discovering something important.
“I was only the housekeeper. No one felt the need to include me in the family’s personal business.” Mrs. Owens seemed very uncomfortable, and Cassidy wasn’t sure if she should press on but she needed answers.
“Do you remember when they died?” Cassidy asked quietly. Mrs. Owens whipped around to look at her, eyes wide with shock.
“We never speak of that.” Mrs. Owens hissed. Cassidy sat back, stunned by the vehemence of her words.
“I’m sorry.” Cassidy whispered. The tension on Mrs. Owens face melted away instantly, as if putting on a mask. Once again she looked calm and serene.
“It was a very difficult time for everyone, dear. No one likes remembering it.” Mrs. Owens explained softly.
“I’m sorry, I was just curious…”
“Would you mind fetching me some eggs?” Mrs. Owens interrupted before Cassidy could continue.
“Ok.”
“I plan to make a quiche for dinner. Five eggs should be plenty.” Mrs. Owens smiled kindly as she handed Cassidy a basket for collecting the eggs. Cassidy took the basket realizing full well that this was simply a means to end the conversation, it was still morning and there was no reason Mrs. Owens would need the eggs now. However, she was obviously uncomfortable discussing the family’s history so it didn’t seem like she would be the wealth of information that Cassidy had been hoping for.
Cassidy walked through the backyard toward the chicken coup with Ben’s words ringing in her mind; Promise me you’ll stay in the house. Nervously she glanced back at the house and movement from above caught her eye. She looked up at the large arched window on the third floor. The curtains moved.
Cassidy hurried to the chicken coup to collect the eggs, reasoning with herself that there could be a draft on the third floor that rustled the curtains, or perhaps it was some sort of optical illusion due to the angle she was looking and the sunlight. Her justifications weren’t very convincing.
When she returned to the kitchen Mrs. Owens was not at her usual post over the stove. Cassidy began to wonder if it had been her looking down from the third floor window, but then she returned to the kitchen from a side room carrying a stack of linens.
“Thank you, dear.” Mrs. Owens smiled, eyeing the basket of eggs.
“What’s on the third floor?” Cassidy asked impulsively.
“Just storage.” Mrs. Owens answered quickly. “Nothing of concern. Why do you ask?”
“Just curious.”
“You know what they say about curiosity and the cat.” Mrs. Owens teased playfully.
“Good thing I’m not a cat.” Cassidy laughed nervously at the subtle warning.
“Yes, well, all the same.” Mrs. Owens shrugged placing the stack of blankets on the kitchen table. Cassidy felt awkward simply watching Mrs. Owens work, she wished she could take a walk but she’d promised Ben that she would stay in the house and she imagined venturing any farther than the chicken coup would be breaking that promise.
“Is there anything I can help with?” Cassidy asked.
“There actually is quite a lot to do.” Mrs. Owens admitted. “After the holiday our busy season starts, the leaves are already beginning to turn. We need to open up all the guest rooms and air them out, change the linens, dust.”
“I can do that.” Cassidy volunteered eagerly, grateful for something to do to pass the time until Ben returned. She suddenly realized how much she missed him, how different the house felt without him, and at the same time she realized that Becca had been right. She wouldn’t have stayed if not for him.
“Oh that would be wonderful! There really is so much to do. I can’t believe Labor Day weekend is already here.” Mrs. Owens exclaimed, happily lifting the stack of linens and passing them off to Cassidy. “Here is the master key for the other rooms in your hall.” She told her placing an old iron key on top of the stack of blankets in her arms.
“Why do all the rooms lock from the outside?” Cassidy asked. It had been bothering her since she’
d arrived.
“It’s an old house. Those were originally the children’s rooms and that’s just the way they did things back then.” Mrs. Owens shrugged. “I’m going to start uncovering the parlor, if you need anything that’s where you’ll find me.” She smiled happily then disappeared into an adjoining room.
Cassidy made her way upstairs carrying the fresh linens. As she passed beneath the staircase that led to the third floor she felt a chill. She decided there definitely must be some sort of draft coming from upstairs.
Her room was the first on the left, beyond that there was another door on the left wall and a third door on the opposite side of the hall. She approached the second door on the left and fumbled with the key trying to unlock the door while balancing the stack of linens in her arms. Finally she managed to unlock the door and push it open. The room was dark and musty.
She walked inside setting the stack of linens on the bed then crossed to the window to pull open the curtains. Light flooded the room and dust motes swirled in the air. Cassidy unlatched the window and pushed it open allowing the fresh ocean breeze to blow in. The view was similar to the one from her room, a beautiful landscape of the seaside.
She turned to face the room. The motif was comparable to hers, white-washed wood and navy blue accents. This room had a large antique armoire instead of a desk and there was also a built-in shelving unit displaying several glass bottles containing intricate model ships. Otherwise the two rooms were nearly identical. Cassidy set about her task, stripping the bed and changing the sheets. She fluffed the pillows and shook out the comforter humming to herself as she worked.
Once the bed had been made and the room dusted Cassidy gathered up the remaining linens and crossed the hall to the opposite room. She unlocked and entered the room fully expecting another replica of the first two rooms. She was startled to find that this room had a distinctly feminine décor. The bed spread had a floral design and the paneled walls were painted a soft rose color. The window was not draped with heavy curtains like the other two rooms but instead had a filmy lace cover, yellowed with age. There was a dressing table with attached mirror in the corner.
