by Lee Thompson
“So,” he said. “How far is far away? Like hell?”
She tilted her head. “Do I look like I’m from hell?”
“No. But monsters aren’t always ugly.”
She nodded and ran a finger around the lip of her cup. “You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.”
“How did my mom hire you? You never said.”
“Is it that important?”
“How long do you plan on hanging around?”
“As long as it takes. But it’d be best if we settle everything within the next two days.”
“For what?” he leaned into the plastic chair and put both of his hands on the table. Her hair blew across her throat but Mike didn’t feel a breeze. He looked around.
“I wish you could trust me.” Angela sipped from the cup and he waited for something drastic to happen, like he’d be able to see it make its way down to her stomach through transparent flesh. “You think I’m something?”
“Something, sure.” He grinned, electricity in the air.
She grinned and they sat in silence, both of them feeling out something that Mike feared wasn’t even there. He cleared his throat. “Earlier you said you wanted to help me and John. With what? And don’t answer me with a question.”
“Does it annoy you? Not knowing?”
“It doesn’t help.”
Angela dipped her finger in the cup and dripped coffee over the table. Her hands worked paths through the liquid until images formed, of the manor, the mountains, a large raven in a midnight sky, eyes lit by moon and full of mischief. “There’s trouble at the threshold of your heart. Lines have been crossed and crossed again. You bleed your anger out on those you love, as does he, but another collects them like offerings made to heaven.”
“You a witch?”
“No. But I see what is to come. I’m here. We can work out a trade.”
“A trade, huh? For what?”
“You face a test that will break the fibers binding your heart. You’ve faced others before, but this one never ends. It’s perpetual.”
“You know all about me.”
“And your friend.”
John wasn’t in Cuba. He didn’t see. And he didn’t partake of that madness.
“So, you’re going to protect us?”
She ran her finger through the coffee and the liquid hardened, lined with frost. Angela smashed her fist down and the table shattered, disintegrated, a puff of dust coating their legs. The woman at the counter had her nose buried in a book. Mike rubbed his mouth. “I don’t know what you are, but I don’t need your help.”
“You think I’m something I’m not. I’m not like that witch doctor.”
“I’m not thinking anything. I’ve seen enough sorrow to know that you’re only out to bring more.”
She shook her head and touched his knee, her fingertips like a blast of winter wind. “You need to let me help you. You can’t face what’s coming by yourself.”
“Yeah? And you still haven’t told me what it is you want in trade.”
“You know what I want.”
“I haven’t got a clue.”
You want what the monster wanted before?
He waited for her to answer his thoughts, disappointed when she didn’t. “Who is the raven, Angela?”
“What raven?”
“The one you just showed me.”
She laughed and the woman behind the counter threw them a distasteful look as she thumbed a page of her book, totally unaware of chaos swirling under her nose. Mike waited for her to ask where the table had gone, but she said nothing and it only reinforced his belief that too few people looked behind themselves, paid attention.
Shit’s going down. I better talk to John and see what she’s said to him.
Angela leaned across the empty space and Mike felt the pull of her energy. It tugged at the bones beneath his flesh. She kissed the corner of his mouth and he jerked back, almost fell out of his chair. He wiped his face with the back of his sleeve.
“Call your friend. Tell him that there’s a girl weaved into your lives. She lies broken in a room here.”
Mike stood. “Don’t touch me. I don’t like it.”
“Call Johnathan, Michael. You two have to lean on each other.” She straightened her clothes and winked at him. “I’m not all evil. Only this flesh, this mind. My heart is pure.”
She walked past him and the ground beneath her bare feet started to rot. Black fungus spread across the white and blue tile.
* * *
I woke to my cell phone’s shrill ring. Cat slammed her fist into my back. “You better not answer that. We just laid down and I’m exhausted.”
I stared at the screen. “It’s Mike.”
I wondered how he got my number.
“And he can wait until tomorrow.”
Darkness draped the bed, light from the kitchen spilling through the doorway, meeting it, like a line representing two extremes. Ethan snored, barely audible. I answered the phone. Cat hit me again and rolled away, bed springs squeaking. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Mike? What’s up?” Mike told me to come to Our Lady. A girl had been attacked. My guts twisted and a sharp pain flared across my forehead. I needed sleep more than anything, but I wanted to see him, wanted someone to tell me that it was going to be all right. “Can it wait till morning?”
“I don’t know. You know the girl caretaking the estate?”
“What girl?”
“She knows you. Us. We’ve got to talk. It won’t take long, but it’s important.”
I sat up against the headboard as Cat jumped out of bed, her hand against the side of her face, feet carrying her out of the bedroom. I sighed. “I’m exhausted.”
“You’re going to be a lot more so before this is through.”
“Before what’s through?”
“Come on. I’ll explain it in person. I’ve been wanting to see you anyway. It’s been a long time. Room 21”
Hearing him say it felt good. I’d never had another friend like him, and even with a few years of not speaking while he lived out west and spent his time acting in some lame dramas, the bond we shared had never severed. It was still taut. I climbed out of bed. “Okay. Give me fifteen minutes.” Mike hung up. I grabbed my clothes. Cat waited in the kitchen, her arms across her chest, staring at the floor. “I’ll be back.” Cat grunted and turned toward the window over the kitchen sink. I pulled my jacket on and tried to kiss her cheek.
“Don’t.”
“This is not by choice. And the sooner it’s over, the faster our lives are going to get back to normal.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
I stroked her arm and she shrugged it off. “Is this because I’m going out to meet Mike? Or because of what I told you earlier?”
“Does it matter at this point?”
I guess not.
I left her standing there, ashamed of the anger I felt. It didn’t feel justified.
* * *
Brandy laid in bed, her eyes closed. Jim White sat next to her, his eyes hooded, trembling hands draped in his lap. I stared at him for a moment, wondering why Jim was there, and how he’d heard that something had happened to the mayor’s daughter.
“Is she going to be okay?”
Jim looked up, his face pale. Small red lines stood out along both sides of his nose. Funny the things that are there, things we never notice about someone because we’re too busy barreling through life.
“She’s in a coma, John. I don’t know if she’ll be okay. She was attacked.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“I asked first.”
Jim’s shoulders sagged. “I spend a lot of time walking around the hospital. It reminds me of where I stand.”
“Stand in what?”
“In life. Things can shatter at any moment, relationships, careers, your health.”
Tell me about it.
Jim
touched Brandy’s hand and squeezed it. “You look exhausted, John. How did you know she was attacked?”
“Mike called me.”
“I thought I saw him earlier.” Jim stared at Brandy. “Do you think a kid deserves something like this happening to her?”
“I don’t even know what happened. Mike just told me to come up, that it couldn’t wait.” Her skin lay smooth on her face, hair swept across her forehead, lips pouting as if she were trapped in a horribly sad dream. My heart buckled, knowing that if Pat and the others had helped me find the dead girls’ killer this might have never happened to Brandy. I tried to rub away the lump in my chest.
“She was attacked.” Jim’s hand tightened over hers. He let out a breath and it fluttered the sleeve of her gown. “Someone tried to rape her. Luckily, they didn’t finish. The world is full of sick fucks.”
I tried to recall ever hearing Jim curse. I shook my head, the reality of what the older man had just said sinking in. I touched the foot of the bed to keep my balance. “Where at?”
“Where at what?”
“What was she doing out?”
“Who knows. I saw when they brought her in. Heard the staff talking.” He shook his head. “She’s like family. I’m her godfather.”
“Who brought her in? Did you see?”
“A woman. This gorgeous woman.”
My skin itched. “A redhead? Stranger?” And I remembered Mike saying something about the woman caretaking the manor. I tried to recall if Angela had mentioned that during our brief encounter in All Saints, but my mind felt crammed with unknowable darkness.
“Yeah.” Jim’s head bobbed. “Brought her in and then disappeared.” He brought his hand up and wiggled his fingers. “Poof. Disappeared like magic.” He grunted. “You don’t seem that surprised.”
“A lot has happened in the last twenty four hours that seems unreal. Are you all right?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m a survivor. It’s Herb and his wife who are going to be devastated. Brandy too, if she ever wakes up. They’re going to keep her under observation for a couple days, if she doesn’t come out of it, they’ll take her to Wilkes-Barre.”
Darkness leaned against the window. I waited for Angela to press her face to the glass, surrounded by the restless dead. I scratched my forearm.
“I know who did this.” Jim’s voice cracked. He stared at the floor. “No one will believe it though. Or they’ll ignore it like they do everything else. People sicken me.”
The older man sobbed. I knelt next to him. Jim smelled of sweat and worry, his hair thinner than it used to be, twisted in places like he’d try to pull handfuls of it out. “Who?”
“Pat.”
“What makes you think that?”
“It’s not the first time he’s pushed things too far. When we were in Vietnam he…” Jim buried his head in his hands. He sobbed and wiped his eyes.
It always felt weird to see an older man cry, and I didn’t know how to comfort someone like that. Be pragmatic. My chest grew tight, the air stuffy. “Can you prove it?”
“No. If I could, I’d do something more than sit here.”
Standing, I studied Brandy, amazed at how small and fragile life was when you looked beyond yourself and your own selfish gluttony. I grasped at what Jim had said earlier, about walking these halls, knowing what it was, a reminder that nothing kept you safe. Sometimes it came down to luck. Sometimes things shattered and all you could do was pick up the pieces and mourn what would never be whole again.
“Do you think you could get proof somehow?”
Jim pushed himself out of the chair and straightened his shirt. “I wish I could help you, John. I’ve done all I can do when it comes to Pat. The rest is up to him. I need some caffeine.” He tapped my arm with a meaty palm. “Good seeing you. Find your friend and get some rest. Brandy’s not going anywhere.”
I followed him out the door. Jim went left, toward the cafeteria. I looked right, remembering and feeling guilty that Mike’s mom had been dying in here for the past year.
And I’ve never once visited her.
I headed for the nurse’s station to get her room number, hoping I’d find Mike there. I wondered if the strange woman was with him. It bothered me, Angela bringing Brandy in.
She’s got answers. I have to get them out of her.
My heart raced. I hoped she’d seen who, or what it was that attacked the mayor’s daughter. She may have known who butchered the girls in the woods too, which made sense in why she’d ran toward the Wright Mill the day I woke on the forest floor.
I was so certain she was the key. It clouded my mind to everything else.
Chapter 14
Tuesday, Oct. 12th
I opened the back door and took my boots off next to the washer and dryer in the back room. Cat sat on the sofa, a phonebook next to her, the cordless pressed to her ear. She tugged at a loose thread on her pajamas. I wiped my eyes and collapsed next to her. She covered the mouthpiece. I looked at the Yellow Pages.
“You’ve called a psychologist. Do you expect to reach someone this early?”
She looked at the front door. It hurt, seeing her look away. I itched my ear and the garbage bag by the front door caught my eye. “Why did you bring that up here?”
Cat whispered into the phone.
I jerked it out of her hand and ended the call. “You couldn’t wait.”
“I’ve been up all night.” She leaned back into the couch, and crossed her legs. “You have serious problems, John. I want you to go in and talk to someone. I’ll go with you. And we have to take that evidence to the real police.”
The real police. Thanks.
“I will talk to someone, but I have to wait.” My sweaty hands sat in my lap and I couldn’t move them as I tried to sort my thoughts. “I know it seems like I’m crazy, and I know I’m wrestling with what happened to Mark, but I have to set aside my own problems if I’m going to help those girls find rest.”
And hopefully that will redeem me.
“It’s all in your head, John.”
“Where’d the girls’ clothes come from then? Do you want to call Rusty? Ask him about it. He won’t give you the whole truth, but you’ll know when you ask him that he’s lying to cover it up.”
“We both know he’s not going to know what I’m talking about.” She ran her hand under her nose and her lips grew redder, trembling. “You need to take today off. Call Pat and tell him. We’ll go up to New Wave and—”
“I’m not crazy. Not like you think. I just feel like I’m torn in all these different directions.” I touched the bandage over my heart. The wound felt like it had started to bleed again. “I will talk to someone once this is over. I promise.”
She touched my hand, squeezed it. “It’s never going to be over. You have to talk to someone now. I don’t know where you found the clothes, but I know that another man like you had promised me he’d do something important and he never did.”
“Well, thanks for comparing me to one of your exes.” I stood, walked into the kitchen. “Why don’t you go out to the woods with me?”
“For what?”
“I’ll show you where they buried the girls.”
“And what will that solve?”
“It’ll show you that it happened.” I looked across the island that separated the kitchen from the living room, trying to keep a hold of the anger and disappointment I felt toward her. “I’m not crazy. I thought maybe it was headed that way with some of the shit I’ve been seeing, but Uncle Red has seen at least one thing that shouldn’t be, too.”
“What did Mike have to say? What was so important that you had to run out again in the middle of the night?”
“I never found him.”
“Did you try his house?”
“No. I came back here. He called from the hospital.”
“What did he want, John?”
“Brandy Miller was attacked, and he wanted me to know.”
“Why? Wasn’t Pa
t there to take care of it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have any answers for you, but I’m trying.”
“You have me worried sick, John. Please, call in and—”
“Will you lay down with me? I can barely stand and I’m tired of arguing.”
And you not believing me.
Cat closed the phone book and walked into the bedroom.
I looked at my watch. Seven after seven. I had fifty-three minutes to get to work. Rubbing my eyes, I pulled my cell from my pocket and dialed Pat.
On the third ring, Pat answered, said, “Take today off.”
I nodded. “I was about to ask for it. I’ve been up all night.”
“Herb said you were at the hospital. Something happened to his kid.”
“Yeah. She doesn’t look so good. Jim was there.”
“Why? What’d he say?”
“He likes to walk around Our Lady at night.”
“And?”
I sighed. “And that’s it. I think he called Herb to tell him.”
“Who found her?”
“Brandy?”
“Yeah, who else would I be talking about?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you lying to me?”
I ran my knuckles over the wall. My hands ached.
“So, who found her? What’d they say?”
“I’m going to bed.”
“Don’t hang up.”
“Why did Mr. Miller tell me that Wylie found the girls?”
“What?”
“The girls. He said Wylie found them and me.”
“I found you. I don’t know why Herb would lie, but I don’t like it.”
“See, that makes me think that Herb wanted me to be suspicious of you. Why would he want that? How’d you find me? What were you doing out there so early in the morning?”
The line grew silent for a moment. I felt the air around me thicken, saw the girl with the door in her chest, her hand coming up, touching the key hanging over my heart. Her eyes were blue, like Cat’s. An ocean so deep it could crush you.
Pat’s voice filled my ear. “I go for walks when I’m stressed, and the trails are nice and quiet. If you must know, my wife is a slut, and if I didn’t take some walks to clear my head, be alone, I’d probably kill her. I got lucky stumbling across you. Nothing more, just luck. Lucky for you, too. If someone else had found you all, it might have played out a lot different. They might have thought you killed the girls. It wouldn’t have been so easy to deal with if the state boys had you behind bars. I did what I could, what I thought was best.”
