Katie knew she was right. The solid structure of this place was one of the first things that she’d noticed about it. Good bones, as she liked to say. Although considering the deep, dark secret she had discovered about this town’s past maybe talking about bones wasn’t a good idea.
“Maggie, I really think I should just be going. I don’t really work with businesses. Just houses.”
“Oh but it wouldn’t be any work at all to sell the Harper Inn, I’m sure. You could even change the name if you wanted to. We get lots of tourist traffic in the summer,” Maggie said, starting to list off the virtues of this place. “Crowds of people come here to fish the lake so there’s only a few months, like now, when I’m not booked solid. I think this would be a really good investment for you.”
Holding her fingers up to her temples to quiet the throbbing of her headache, Katie took a glance around the rooms herself. She could see the renovations that would need to be done, mostly cosmetic with a few major upgrades here and there. She had no idea what the building codes were in New Hampshire but they couldn’t be all that different from back home.
If she replaced the flooring, and the windows, and painted the walls and ceiling, and just pushed that wall back, she could get out of it relatively cheaply. Then all she would need to do is list the place for sale and wait for a buyer to bite. Easy six figures, after expenses.
She hadn’t planned on working anymore this year, but this one was almost too good to be true.
Now she didn’t know what she should do. This deal would mean sticking around Twilight Ridge at least for a few more days while the sales agreement was worked out and she found someone to do the contractor work.
Contractor.
Riley...
Her headache throbbed and for just a moment the floor was racing up to meet her.
The world spun to a sudden, jerking halt. She reached out a hand to the wall for support but it was several miles away from her and she missed and she stumbled. Something hard hit the side of her face.
Oh. There was the wall. She found it after all.
“Katie?” Maggie asked her. “Are you all right?”
The obvious answer to that was no. She wanted to scream, or cry, or start spewing nonsense about witches and ask Maggie why she ever showed her that photo in the first place.
Instead, Katie heard herself laugh.
“I’m fine. Honestly, I simply tripped.”
That wasn’t her talking. That wasn’t what she wanted to say, but still the words kept coming. She couldn’t stop herself.
“I want to talk about this some more,” she said to Maggie. “I think we have much to talk about, in fact. Right now I need to go up to my room for a bit. Perhaps I just need to lie down.”
Not her words. Not her words!
Maggie’s face brightened. “Does that mean you’ll stay another night?”
“Of course,” Katie didn’t say, even though she could hear herself speaking the words. “I’d love that.”
Then she watched herself turn toward the stairs and start up for her room. She just wanted to get to her room and lie down. Everything would make sense if she could just get some rest, and shake this headache.
The door to her room opened soundlessly, revealing a lushly decorated room in soft red and gold fabrics. The furniture was all the very best that could be imported from Europe. It was all shiny and new, and it made her happy just to look on it.
Her husband had spared no expense in dressing up their home, now that she was about to give birth to their first child.
She looked down at her round belly bulging out the fabric of her long black dress. She hoped this would be a boy.
The other sisters in her coven would be so jealous...
Katie shook her head. This wasn’t right. None of this was right. The room...shouldn’t look this way and what had she just been thinking to herself about...about...
Her husband.
Her child.
No. This wasn’t real.
She needed to splash some water on her face. Things weren’t making sense.
At the side table, under the ornately framed mirror, she dipped her hands into the ceramic bowl of fresh water that had been brought in from the well. She splashed some over her cheeks. When she looked up at her reflection in the mirror, the smile returned to her face.
A face that wasn’t quite hers.
The sound of something hitting the surface of the water drew her attention downward.
In the mirror, her reflection was a second later looking down as well.
Plop.
A single drop of blood fell into the basin of water.
Then another.
Plop.
Katie lifted a hand to her lip. She felt a warm wetness there, and rubbed her fingertips together, bringing them up to see the blood smeared there.
She was bleeding.
Chapter 14
Pressing her knuckles against her nostrils she tried to snuff back the nosebleed. Was her headache really this bad? She’d read once that if your nose bled from a headache it could be a sign of a stroke. Just one more thing for her to worry about in the land of the bizarre that she’d stepped into.
What in the hell was going on?
She went to splash water on herself from the basin but suddenly the room had changed again, back to what it looked like when she checked in yesterday. All of the fancy furniture and trappings were gone, and she knew that they had never really been there.
The basin of water was gone.
Her blood fell onto the top of the dresser.
Pinching her nose closed with her fingers she raced for the bathroom and ran the water from the faucet and then cupped her hands under the stream.
It was warm, and sticky, and thick. The water became blood as she watched, staining the porcelain red and her skin and her clothes red. It was everywhere. There was blood everywhere.
She stumbled backward from the sink, rubbing frantically at her hands to get the blood off.
There was nothing there.
Only water.
Katie nearly laughed in relief. She was so worked up that she was seeing things now. Hallucinating. Of course there was no blood. That was ridiculous. It was just water, and her nerves.
In the mirror, her reflection smiled at her.
Katie wasn’t smiling.
She watched as the reflection raised her hands up to her face.
Katie’s hands were fisted at her hips.
On the fingers of her mirror image, blood smeared her skin. Her blood. The blood that wasn’t there.
Katie wanted to scream, but the sound of it was lodged deep in her throat. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move.
She could only watch.
She watched herself extend one long finger, extending it toward the glass of the mirror. The finger streaked down the glass.
The inside of the glass.
In blood, printed backwards, letters appeared. The letters formed a word even as her reflection locked gazes with her.
You.
Can’t.
Run.
From.
Yourself.
Katie felt something slithering through her soul, a sense of fear and dread and something else that made her physically sick. In a sudden fury she jumped at the mirror and slammed her hand against the glass.
“Stop it!”
Her mirror image did the same, their two hands colliding against each other from either side.
The glass cracked.
Long radiating lines split from a central point under her hand and ran off in a spider web pattern. Katie pulled her hand away immediately, worried about getting cut, realizing she may have taken things too far.
Between the cracks, she saw her image, still smiling.
Then it lifted her bloody index finger up in front of her face. Her long pink tongue slipped out between her lips in a lurid way, and she licked slowly at the blood on her skin.
Katie felt her stomach churn agai
n. “No. Don’t do that. Don’t do that!”
The reflection sucked her finger in between her lips, and winked.
Katie turned away in horror, repulsed at what she was watching herself do. It wasn’t real, she kept telling herself. It wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real!
But on her tongue she tasted the tang of copper. It made her gag.
Her finger was deep in her mouth.
Tears sprang to her eyes as she pulled her hand away and raced out of the bathroom, away from her broken image, and threw herself on the bed. She curled up with her knees up to her chest, and her hands fisted into the sheets.
She could hear her pulse in her own ears.
With trembling hands she reached for the cellphone in her pocket. When she took it out she held it close to her face and squinted to focus on the display. No service.
She dropped it to the floor, letting it tumble away, useless. The phone in the room was over on the bedside table. All she had to do was reach out for it.
It was so far away. Her hand couldn’t reach.
When she tried to move closer, it was always just out that much further away.
From somewhere nearby, she heard herself laughing.
Throwing her hands up over her ears, she rocked herself on the bed, begging for everything to stop. Just stop. She didn’t want this anymore. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to know that this town had secrets that were somehow connected directly to her.
A ringing in her brain got louder, and louder, and her eyes began to droop with a sudden exhaustion that overwhelmed her. She needed to rest. She had to rest.
Nothing made sense. She needed the world to go away and just leave her alone.
Katie heard herself laughing again. Only this time, she felt it in her chest. The laughter was coming from herself.
Because there was no one else here.
Closing her eyes just as tightly as they could she tried to calm her mind and tried to remember that she was fine and nothing was going to hurt her because there was no such thing as witches.
Only her overactive imagination.
That didn’t explain everything though. It didn’t explain what she had seen right here in this room.
Katie pulled the blankets up over her head, and just lay there, waiting for sleep to take her.
She was asleep before she had time to answer the question pulsing in her brain.
What was happening to her?
Chapter 15
She didn’t know what time it was when she woke up.
It was dark outside, so it must be late. She groaned. This meant she was spending another night in Twilight Ridge whether she liked it or not. She did not want to be here one more minute, let alone one more night, but wow did she ever need that nap. She felt like a brand new person. She’d blacked out hard as soon as her head hit the pillow.
A hazy memory tried to come back to her. Something else had happened. She hadn’t just gone to bed. What was it...?
Oh, the nosebleed! There had been blood, on her hand and on her face. Had she stopped bleeding before she fell asleep? No. She didn’t think so. Oh, damn, she must have laid down while she was still bleeding! That would have made such a mess on the sheets. She was going to have to change the bed and take a shower now and clean everything up.
Next to the bed on the same table with the phone was a lamp. She reached over for the pullcord and turned the light on, bracing herself for what she might see.
Nothing.
There were just the clean, white sheets. She looked at her hands and they were clean. No trace of red. Experimentally she put her fingers to her lips and to her nose and held them out again. Still clean.
She closed her eyes, and for a moment she just concentrated on breathing. Nothing was wrong. It was just in her mind. She had a headache, and the book in the library had freaked her out, and she’d seen way too many ghosts in her life not to be scared to death.
That’s all it was.
Just in her head.
Nothing was wrong.
She sat up on the bed and reached for the phone next to the lamp. She didn’t care how late it was or how much this was going to add to the bill for her stay. She needed to talk to Riley. She needed to talk to someone who was going to understand all of this.
Because right now, she didn’t understand anything.
The number was one she knew by heart. She dialed and then waited.
Static filled the line. It was just like with her cellphone back in the library. She thought she heard a ringing, but she couldn’t be sure, and then there was a sound like a click and maybe a man’s voice, but she couldn’t be sure of that either.
“Riley? Hello...Riley are you there? Hey, it’s me. Can you hear me?”
Static.
“Riley? Can you hear me?”
Static.
“Riley, please. I need to talk to you.”
Tic, tic, tic in the static. Like someone tapping at the phone. Tic, scritch, tic, tic.
Louder. Scritch.
“Riley?”
Louder. Scritch.
SCRITCH!
Katie dropped the phone. It clattered to the floor and bounced up against the nightstand. She heard the rapid beeping that told her the call was disconnected and the phone was demanding to be hung up.
She reached down for it, her fingers almost touching it, and then she pulled her hand back.
Something was wrong. She couldn’t help believing that if she picked up that phone again, if she so much as touched it, something bad would happen to Riley. Something deadly.
Something worse than a little electric shock.
“You’re being crazy,” she told herself. “You’re just freaked out. You need a strong shot of whiskey or something. Better yet, some white wine and a hot bath.”
Actually, that sounded perfect. Especially since she was staying the night. Her best friend, Mel Wragg, lived for the right kind of wine. Now, she wished Mel was here.
She looked down at the phone still on the floor. Mel’s number was on her cell...
No. She wasn’t going to touch that phone right now. That sound on the line would be there waiting for her. She did not like that sound.
Maybe she would try Mel later. Right now, she really needed that drink. Maggie must have something downstairs in the kitchen. If it was left out where people could find it, then it must be for the guests.
At least, that was going to be her excuse if she got caught sneaking a glass.
She was about to get dressed when she realized she was still in her shorts and long sleeved t-shirt and socks, the clothes she had been wearing when she fell asleep.
Downstairs, the Inn was quiet. Somewhere a clock ticked away the seconds and it reminded her of the noise on her phone but she blocked it out by humming a song she remembered from her childhood. Something her mother used to sing to her. She went through the darkened main room and into the kitchen, feeling better now that she was out of her room, and by herself.
The dining area still smelled fantastic from whatever Maggie had been cooking earlier. She’d been asked to stay out of the kitchen, but now she stuck her head in to take a peek. It was cozy in there. The appliances were old, and the cabinets were worn. All of it would need to be replaced if she bought the Inn.
Katie snorted and shook her head. She just couldn’t help herself. She saw everything in terms of what it would cost to replace. A hazard of the job.
The idea of buying the Inn crossed her mind again. If she did, someone would have to live here and take care of the place until it was purchased.
That was how it worked in The Shining.
“Yeah,” she said to herself. “That’s a great idea. Think about Stephen King while you’re alone in the dark.”
She went back to humming that song from her childhood while she looked through the cabinets in the kitchen. Flour. Boxes of cereal. Canned soups. Powdered milk.
Ah. There it was.
There was a bottle of
cooking sherry, and next to it--thank God—-a bottle of whiskey.
She didn’t recognize the brand and she really didn’t care. Right now, she just needed a little liquor to clear her mind and take the edge off this pain in her head that she just couldn’t shake.
With the bottle in hand she went in search of a glass.
“They’re above the sink,” she heard Maggie say.
Katie froze where she was with an uncertain smile on her face. Maggie had found her snooping for alcohol. This couldn’t be any more embarrassing if she’d literally been caught with her hand in the cookie jar over there on the shelf.
But Maggie just chuckled and reached up to the cabinet over the sink herself and took out two thick-bottomed glasses. “I usually drink alone. It would be nice to have some company for a change.”
Katie returned the other woman’s smile and allowed herself to relax. She was just so wound up. Everything was putting her on edge.
They sat at the dining room table and Katie poured the first round, two fingers in each glass. After screwing the cap back on the bottle she lifted her drink in a toast. “To the town of Twilight Ridge, with all its crazy history.”
Maggie clinked her glass against Katie’s. “To you buying this Inn.”
Katie still hadn’t made up her mind, but she drank anyway. At this point, Maggie could have been toasting to the Devil himself and Katie still would have drank.
Maggie breathed out after her first sip, licking her lips. “So. If you’re drinking to our crazy history then I take it you found those books in the library that I mentioned to you?”
“Yes. I found them. I can’t say that I’m impressed by your community’s roots.”
“Hmm?” Maggie asked. “How do you mean?”
“Well, your founding fathers all accused their wives of being witches. Then they killed them. Not exactly something to be proud of.” The whiskey burned on the way down her throat. “That doesn’t, you know, bother anyone here?”
“Oh, I suppose it’s unsettling to a few. I’ve heard Reverend Baker give many a Sunday sermon on the evils of things like Ouija boards and black candles.” She chuckled. “Doorways to let Satan in, as he calls them.”
Sight Unseen Complete Series Box Set Page 42
