Annie lowered her voice to a whisper. “You know...he rarely comes out during the day. You’d think we’d see more of him...living just next door. Fred’s seen him walking down the street late at night. Something’s just not right about him...”
“Well, I don’t suppose he has much work in the winter, and I know he’s a bit of a night owl. You know how he cleaned up Grammie’s gardens just by the light of the moon.”
“Hmmph,” Annie said. “That’s a bit strange...don’t you think? What did he say when you told him that you were coming back. Did you tell him that he’ll have to find another place?”
“I told him that I don’t mind if he wants to stay here a while.”
“I don’t like the idea of you staying there with that fella. It’s just not proper.”
Georgia laughed. “Oh, Annie...“ She gave her another hug. “You’re so old-fashioned. You don’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself. Besides...I like this guy. I don’t know why you don’t too. He’s terribly handsome, isn’t he?”
“If you like that sort of type,” Annie said as she folded her arms.
Georgia rose and slung her purse over her shoulder.
“I can’t wait for Fred to get back. I want to get some things unpacked and get settled in before it gets too late.”
“Can’t I talk you into some nice hot cocoa first?” Annie pleaded.
“Sounds tempting...but I really should get unloaded. I’ll give you a call later...”
“Alright...but we’re going to check on you if we don’t hear from you. I don’t want to find out something’s wrong by hearing police sirens out front and finding yellow tape around the house.”
Georgia gave her another hug then drove back to the Blake house. Daniel’s truck wasn’t in the driveway, and there were no lights on. I guess Annie was wrong...Daniel must go out in the daytime.
As she tiptoed across the porch, careful of the nearly invisible icy patches, a horrible image of the house going up in bright crackling flames screeched through her mind. She imagined Marsha standing in front of the smoking embers saying to a fireman, “...of course the wiring had been faulty for years...”
She rang the doorbell, just in case Daniel was home. When he didn’t answer, she rang it again...then she knocked. There was no reply, so she found her key.
As she stepped into the abyss of darkness inside, she wondered what she was going to tell him. A voice inside of her scolded. Did you not tell him because you didn’t want him to have the chance to find another place and leave? Maybe you’re afraid to be here alone?
Before she had a chance to flip the light switch, she heard the sound of a cough in the parlor.
Chapter 58
Opal walked a line between indecision and insanity.
Every week, for the last few weeks, there had been another murder in the Calathia area. Karl had been impossible to get a hold of since he was working eighteen-hour days assisting with the investigations. There had been talk in the news about an FBI agent coming to out to help. She wished that she could phone the Sheriff and tell him what she knew, but she knew it would be useless to try.
Wanda still wouldn’t talk to her. She seemed to believe that they had opened Pandora’s box when they pried into WilliamCrawford’s secret belongings.
Her dark hair fell to her shoulders and she ran a brush through it, smoothing down the waves of gray at her temples. When she finished, she rubbed her eyes and squinted in the mirror at the deepening crow’s feet around them. She had aged in the last couple of months—she could feel it in her bones, in her creaking knees, and in the weariness of her soul.
If things turned physical during her attempt at banishing the spirit, she didn’t know how she could handle combat with a supernatural opponent with the agility of a stallion.
After drawing a bath, she placed a ring of ivory candles around the tub. Their golden light symbolized the goodness of the sun, and she hoped they would charge her with positive energy and a more optimistic attitude.
She took off her dress and relaxed down into the tub, the warmth caressing her like the softness of a mother’s womb. Then, she reached behind her and removed the cork from a bottle, emptying a handful of shell pink rose-scented bath crystals into the water around her.
As she tried to meditate to calm her fears, she felt herself growing drowsy. She closed her eyes and drank in the sweet perfume rising around her in mists. The day’s worries seemed to leech out from her skin, bleeding into the water like sewage from a toxic factory escaping into the sea.
Tired...so tired.
As sleep overcame her, she sunk down lower in the water until it covered her body up to her chin and the lobes of her ears.
*****
At first, the sweetness of the bath caused her to dream of beautiful things. She found herself in a field of wildflowers and prairie grasses.
But then, the image changed.
She was in a garden filled with tropical foliage and roses of every color imaginable.
She followed the stepping-stones...lured along by the perfume of roses and some unknown force drawing her forward. Dark sooty clouds began to roll across the sky, marring it with the threat of rain. She heard the growl of thunder and saw the sky unzipping behind her, becoming as black as a raven’s wing.
She began to run now...faster...towards the scent.
Ahead, she saw the tall pointed spire of an arbor a few yards just around a curve. It was covered with velvety red roses as wide as the breadth of her hands. She walked underneath it, picked a bloom and held it close to her nose, drinking in its clove-like scent. But, she suddenly gasped in pain and dropped it.
Her hands were covered in blood. On the ground, the rose withered at her feet—its petals turning black before her eyes. As it shriveled, she saw that the damned thing was covered in thorns, razor-sharp like the claws of some wild animal.
She winced and clasped her hands tight to stop the blood flow. Then, she looked ahead into the circular garden. A strange ethereal glow penetrated the darkness. It seemed to emanate from the fountain in the center.
A man’s wicked laugh startled her, and she fell backwards.
She gasped as an image emerged from the shadows. The top hat appeared first then his chisel-jawed face with glittering green eyes that eclipsed the fountain’s glow with their radiance.
“Opal…” he hissed.
Then, in a blink, she found herself next to the fountain. The water in each tier churned and mist billowed up, surrounding her with a swirling fog.
He was in front of her now...just inches away. She could almost taste the fetid scent of his body, still rotting a century after death claimed his flesh.
Despite the stench, beauty triumphed in his physique. How could such an attractive man be so completely evil? She reminded herself that he was not a man—he was something else.
As he stepped closer, she tried to turn and run. But, her feet wouldn’t move. She looked down and saw that roots from the roses had curled up out of the earth and wound around her ankles.
“Don’t be afraid, Signora,” he whispered. “Your death will be so easy... ”
Her brain told her to use all of her strength and run...now!
But, she couldn’t.
The sky brightened to orange and crimson as if it was on fire, and the wind howled around her in a piercing wail that made her cover her ears.
He reached out to her with black fingernails crusted with dirt. Unable to move, she leaned back against the rim of the fountain.
With horror, she watched as his face changed to something that could only be from hell. The sparkling green eyes became a hollow darkness filled with flickering flames. His long hair turned into writhing serpents that curled around his shoulders and up onto his hat, flicking their red tongues in and out.
His hand rested on her chest just over her heart, and she felt an excruciating tug.
But then, he released his hand as if changing his mind. As he lowered it to his side, she breathed a sigh of r
elief. Maybe...just maybe...he just meant to scare her and not kill her?
Her second of optimism vanished as he laughed above the screaming wind.
Then, his hands shot out and plunged her backwards into the fountain.
Her body sunk down deeper and deeper into the water...
His hands were so strong. It was useless to struggle against their power, because she was a brittle leaf in comparison.
As water poured into her nostrils and bubbles escaped upward in the water...she let out one last inaudible scream.
Then, all was black.
*****
Opal woke up and jumped out of tub, splashing water onto the tile floor.
She rested on the edge. Then, realizing that the position was similar to her seat on the fountain rim in the dream, she jumped to her feet and turned back to look at the water, half-expecting hands to come out and pull her in.
After she calmed down, she draped herself in a snowy white robe. Then, she spoke out loud in anger. “Grace...I can’t do this by myself! He’s too strong. He’s got the energy of dozens of souls by now.”
She had a horrible premonition that she was going to die when she met the spirit again...
Chapter 59
Georgia stepped into the shadows of the foyer and fumbled for the light switch. The fixture above her sputtered on, but instead of its normal cheerful glow, it emitted a feeble light, hardly bright enough to see more than a few feet around her.
There were rumbles of thunder outside as she felt for the chain on the lamp across the hall. The Tiffany lamp illuminated the space around her in a lacy network of color, but the rest of the house remained bathed in eerie shadows.
She paused. Something was strangely heavy about the air in the house. The grandfather clock ticked a steady beat as if to tell her that the house’s heart was still going strong. But, she noticed a musty smell. Perhaps the house had always been a bit earthy and scented with the dust of age. But, it was as if the volume had been turned up ...and now it reeked with a dankness like decaying compost.
It’s just the smell of autumn.
She heard the sound of a cough again. “Daniel? Is that you? Oh...you scared me! What are you doing there in the dark?”
“Georgia?” a throaty voice asked from the darkness. “I knew you’d come back to me.”
At first, she couldn’t see far into the parlor, but as she squinted and her eyes adjusted, she saw his reclining form on the sofa, bare-chested with an afghan blanket draped over the lower half of his body. “Are you ill?”
“Si. I fell into the river. It was quite cold and—” he paused to sneeze.
“You poor thing.” She dropped her purse then turned on a lamp beside the sofa. “You’re flushed—you look as red as a strawberry!” She knelt beside him and placed a hand on his forehead, but yanked it back as if she had touched hot coals. “Well, there’s no doubt you have a fever.
As he grabbed her hand and pulled it to his side, a shudder overcame him.
“You’ve got the chills too. I hope you don’t have the flu. Can I get you anything?”
He clasped her hand tighter, “I’m so glad you’re back...stay with me.”
Georgia felt herself locked in the depths of his green eyes. “Daniel...” she said as she leaned back and studied his face in the angular shadows cast by the light on the other side of the room, “There’s something different about you.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. What is it? You seem...more...more...I don’t know...just different.”
“I am not as handsome when I am sick?”
She laughed. “Your wit certainly is in good form even if you’re a bit under the weather.” She rose up. “I’m going to make you some honey-thyme tea, Grammie’s special recipe for colds.”
As she walked into the kitchen, she felt a quiver slide down her torso and settle in her stomach. She had expected Daniel to be at the house when she arrived, but she hadn’t anticipated this half-naked man lying on the couch in misery.
There was something endearing about his woeful state. She remembered how ornery her ex-husband used to get when he was sick, cursing and barking orders as if he could bully his virus around and show it that he was still boss just like he did with her. It was nice to be around a man that could let down his machismo enough to let his human frailty show through.
She put a pot of water on the stove to boil then went to the pantry. Before she left it had been full of dried beans, pasta, grains, and a plethora of canned goods. But now, the shelves lay nearly bare.
She peaked around the corner of the dining room. “Daniel... haven’t you been to the store since I left?”
“Sorry...I’ve been busy...” his hoarse voice faded to a whisper as the teapot’s whistle called her back to the kitchen.
As she poured the hot water into a mug, something out of place caught her eye from the library. She rounded the corner and peered in. There were books everywhere, all over the floor and the chair, and tossed askew on the shelves. It looked like someone had ransacked the room. Then, she noticed an empty glass on the arm of the chair. It was the same clear ribbed design as the one she had seen in the same spot after her grandmother’s death. She picked it up and sniffed. Gin...again. She had accused her dead grandmother of taking up the bottle again, but apparently Daniel had been spending time in the house with her before she died.
“You’ve been doing a little reading?” she asked as she brought him the tea. “The library looks like a cage of lions was let loose in it.”
“Yes...yes. Mi scusa for the mess. I did not expect you back and...sometimes when I read I rush from one subject to another without bothering to put things away. It’s quite a bad habit of mine.
Georgia leaned back, bracing her wrists on the coffee table. “Daniel...did you come in and visit with grandmother when she was here?”
“Oh...si...si. She enjoyed the company. Many times after much work in the garden, she would reward me with a drink and we would talk about things in the library.”
“Hmmm...“ Georgia said. Then suddenly, “I know what it is that looks different about you. You don’t look as pale anymore. Maybe it’s just the fever. Your skin is so flushed.”
“When I’m over this terrible illness, you’ll see that the rest has truly made me a new man. There are many things changed about me.”
“What on earth were you doing out by the river anyway? I’m sure those banks are covered with thin ice right now. They’re a death trap!”
He paused before answering as if trying to find the proper words. “I was trying to find Max. That cuss just didn’t want to come in out of the cold.”
“I think that’s how my grandmother died...” she scolded, “...trying to find that cat.” Then, her face softened. “You’ve been looking after him?”
“Of course. He comes in from time to time for a bite...probably when the mice are scarce or running too fast for him.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that he’s alive and well. My niece, Clarissa, wants him for a pet. Where is he now?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see him today. I suppose he’ll fancy coming back to a warm cozy home soon.”
“It’s a good thing you’re not out working in this weather. You’re going to have to see a doctor if you don’t get better soon.”
“Oh...I couldn’t see a doctor.”
“Why not?”
“I’m certain that I’ll heal just fine on my own...now that you’re here. I just need a little looking after, then I’ll be fit as a fiddle.”
But, his confidence seemed to evaporate as she watched his forehead crease in the middle. A look of sadness overwhelmed his sparkling green eyes.
“Now that you are back...do you mean to evict me?”
“Well...you certainly aren’t well enough to go anywhere right now. This house is big enough for the two of us. You can stay until you feel better and find something else.”
“Grazie, Signora. I don’t know what I would do without your ki
ndness.”
He reached for her hand and kissed it. His lips were as hot as a firebrand. She winced and felt a bolt of exhilaration at the same time.
The last time someone had kissed her hand, it had been a car dealer in a polyester suit trying to sweet talk her down on the price of an oil painting. But...this kiss was much different. Perhaps just an affectation of old European ways, it still made her feel warm inside.
When he released her hand, she grabbed his and gave it a quick squeeze. “Get some rest. I’m going to go bring in some of my things.”
He lifted himself up from the sofa. “I must help...”
“Don’t be silly. You’re too sick. You shouldn’t be out in the—” Before she finished, she saw that the blanket had fallen away from his bare chest revealing a strange round pink scar just below his left pectoral muscle and a deep gouge on his left arm with a fresh scab.
“Is that a gunshot wound?” she asked as she peered closer at his chest.
He snatched the blanket back and covered himself. “It is nothing.”
“Nothing? For God’s sake...it looks like a bullet went straight through your heart! Don’t tell me...you used to be in some sort of a gang when you were a kid.”
“No, it’s nothing like that.”
“Surgery?”
“A mean vengeful man tried to kill me, but he was not successful. As you can see...I am quite alive.”
“You’re toying with me...
“Perhaps...a little,” he said before a coughing spell overtook him and forced him to lie back down.
Well, however it happened...it’s a miracle that you’re alive.”
“It is indeed, mi dolce amica.”
Chapter 60
Later that evening, Georgia made the dreaded call.
“You’re what? You’re in Calathia?” Marsha screamed.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before I made the move. I wanted it to be a surprise.” And I didn’t want to hear your bitching beforehand.
“Funny...how I’m the last one to know. I’m sure you won’t last long...Miss Uppity Town. You’ve been living in New York for so long; you’ll tire of this boring country life before you know it. I hope you didn’t give up your lease.”
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