A Cold Tomorrow

by Mae Clair

  Ryan leaned forward, talking across his desk. “The Bradley brothers found our missing dogs in the TNT.”

  Caden’s stomach soured as Ryan told him about the discovery. Any strange finding in the old munitions site was equivalent to tinder under a powder keg. Dead dogs, ruptured brains, and “star shit.” It wouldn’t be long before people started screaming “Mothman” and a few of them got up in arms enough to parade around the labyrinth of roads with shotguns.

  “Shit.” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “You sure Doc Holden thinks they died the same way as Chester’s cow?”

  Ryan nodded. “Heard it from Sheriff Weston this morning.” After sorting through the papers on his desk, he tossed a single sheet across to Caden. “Read for yourself if you don’t believe me. Concussive impact, resulting in severe hemorrhaging of the brain.”

  Caden let the paper lie. His brother had clearly memorized the veterinarian’s report. “But Rex was all right?”

  “Yeah. Martin picked him up last night. Doc Holden checked him over and said he was spooked, but mostly fine. A little dehydrated and hungry. When I checked in with Martin this morning, he said Rex slept like a log.” Dropping his hands in his lap, he shrugged. “Could be Rex came on the scene after whatever happened…happened.”

  Caden cast a glance at Suzanne Preech, who was still talking to Wayne Rosling. She held her purse on her lap with a balled-up tissue clutched in her hand. Even from where he was sitting, he could see she struggled with tears. He’d obviously misjudged her. Whatever her feelings for Shawn and his Dodge, she clearly loved Duke.

  “Is that all I’ve missed?”

  “No.” Ryan reached for his coffee and took a gulp. “Apparently, there was a light show last night and Point Pleasant got buzzed by a horde of glowing objects. Mostly on Route 62 and near the TNT. The department had several dozen reports, and they’re still coming in.”

  Caden frowned, not certain he followed. “UFOs?”

  “That’s what people are saying. Oh, and we had a call from Chester Wilson.” Ryan smiled tightly. “His pastures are covered with star shit and he’s got another dead cow.”

  Caden groaned. This was not how he wanted to start his Monday.

  * * * *

  Katie breathed in the silence of the lobby, the few guests in residence at the Parrish Hotel out roaming the town. The lack of activity gave her a chance to catch up on bookwork, but her mind kept drifting to Sam. By tomorrow he would be well enough to go back to school. In the meantime, her mom had volunteered to spend the day with him, since her hair salon was closed on Mondays.

  Sam was safe at home, but it was hard not to dwell on Saturday night’s unsettling visitations. Katie might have imagined the Mothman, but not the van. Now that she knew about Lyle, the driver’s appearance dovetailed a little too suspiciously.

  Lyle hadn’t wanted his baby when he’d discovered she was pregnant, so why care now? The burden of being a single mother hadn’t been easy, but she wanted nothing to do with him. And, for the most part, Lyle kept his distance. When he’d moved away, she was relieved. She’d heard nightmare stories of men who returned years later, attempting to claim children they’d fathered. What if Lyle had changed his mind about Sam and suddenly decided to take him away?

  The opening click of the front door interrupted her thoughts. A second later, Sarah Sherman scurried into the lobby chased by a draft of chilly air.

  “Brr.” Her friend ran a hand through her coppery hair, taming the wind-tousled curls with a quick swipe. “It’s cold out there today.”

  Katie murmured agreement. It was too early for Sarah to be off work, and too late for her to stop by the River Café for lunch. “Slow day at the courthouse?”

  “Brutally.” Sarah tugged off her gloves and dropped them on the reception counter. “Not that I mind an occasional slow day. It gives me a chance to dig through the older records, but I decided to cut out early.”

  Only Sarah would enjoy poking around in dusty birth, death, and marriage certificates. Her friend had been known to spend hours poring over documents dating back to the time of the Battle of Fort Randolph when Chief Cornstalk supposedly cursed Point Pleasant with his dying breath.

  “If you’re looking for Eve, she headed over to Gallipolis.” Deciding bookwork was a lost cause, Katie flipped her accounting register shut.

  “No. I came to see how you were doing.” Sarah shrugged out of her coat and dropped it onto the nearest chair. Her purse followed.

  “You mean about Lyle?”

  “Of course. Eve said she called you about him. He hasn’t tried to contact you, has he?”

  “No.” She hesitated, thinking of the van. It was probably best not to spread accusations she couldn’t prove. Ryan knew about her visitor. She trusted him to look into it. “I’m not sure why he would. We didn’t speak even when he lived in town.”

  “It doesn’t hurt to be careful. He’s probably staying with his cousin.”

  Katie hadn’t thought about it, but the idea made sense. Lyle’s parents had sold their farm and moved east to Braxton years ago. Lyle had stayed, keeping an apartment in town until he’d lost his job as a groundskeeper with a local nursery. Not long afterward, he’d headed north in search of work. Now that he was back, he’d try to freeload with Darrell, who lived in a trailer off Route 2.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if he hooked up with Darrell.” Discussing her loser of an ex took Katie’s mind off Sam, but made her nervous in other ways. He’d never lifted a finger against her, but she didn’t doubt Lyle Mason had a temper. “If he wants to tangle, he better tangle with me and leave Sam alone.”

  Sarah’s gaze reflected sympathy. “I’ll keep my ears open. A lot of talk funnels through the courthouse. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

  “Thanks.”

  “It could be nothing,” Sarah continued. “Maybe he came home because it’s the only place he knows. He was born here. Even though his parents are gone—”

  “And his sister.”

  Sarah’s eyes widened. “Oh dear, I’d forgotten about her. What was her name? Loretta?”

  “Lottie.” Katie hadn’t known the shy, older girl, but in some ways, could relate. From what Lyle told her about his sister, Lottie had been a social outcast.

  “Didn’t she fall or something?” Sarah asked.

  Katie nodded. “Lyle said there was a flat section of roof outside her bedroom window. She used to crawl out and sun herself, or watch the stars at night. Sometimes Lyle would join her and they’d sit and talk for hours. That was the side of him I saw when we dated—why I was able to overlook his other faults.” Lottie had been dead for several years by the time they’d met, but Lyle’s love for his sister had overshadowed his gruffness. They’d bonded over their missing siblings, then taken their relationship to the next level. “Lyle was a jerk, but he adored Lottie. If he had any saving grace, it was his love for his sister.”

  Before Sarah could reply, a fresh draft of cold air invaded the cozy setting. Both women glanced to the door in time to see a tall man dressed in a black suit step inside. A vague sense of déjà vu swept over Katie.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  Sarah stared openly as the man approached the desk.

  An obvious stranger, he stood out more than most. A black fedora crowned his short dark hair, and his shiny black shoes were thick and rubber soled. Crisply tailored and immaculately cut, his suit appeared brand new. Through the front windows, Katie spied a large black car, possibly a Cadillac. The tug of déjà vu grew stronger.

  “Good day.” The man spoke slowly as if the words were difficult to form. His lips curved in a wide smile, but the grin lacked emotion. “I was wondering if you could answer a few questions.” The artificial smile never left his face, plastered in place.

  Gooseflesh broke out on Katie’s arms. “About what?”

  “I heard strange things have happened here lately. They interest me.”


  “Strange things?” Sarah’s brow drew together in a quizzical expression.

  He smiled at her. Katie wondered if his expression ever changed.

  “Lights in the sky. Have you seen them?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know anyone who has?”

  “Who are you?” Katie didn’t like the questioning, his incessant smile, or his odd manner of talking. She thought of Jerome’s theories about Big Brother and government conspiracies. This man would fit neatly into that puzzle.

  His gaze swept back, his eyes pale blue, almost colorless. “A visitor.”

  “From where?” she persisted.

  “No place nearby.” He rested his hands on the reception counter.

  His fingers were unnaturally long, the last digit of each slightly fatter than the rest. Bulbous. She’d seen fingers like that before. An ache bloomed against her temple as she dug through her memories.

  Somewhere in the past. Somewhere long ago…a blond-haired man with black eyes. Someone who’d stepped into her world when tragedy struck.

  The night the Silver Bridge collapsed.

  “Have you been here before?” she blurted.

  The man shuffled back a step, his face frozen with that same insincere smile. Shock ballooned behind the mask, evident in the way his whipcord body tensed, his rounded fingers tucking into his palms. “I have troubled you long enough. If you talk to others, perhaps it is best they forget the lights they have seen.”

  “Who are you?” Anger knifed through Katie as buried memories spilled forth in a burst of chaotic images. Not just the collapse of the Silver Bridge, but memories she’d suppressed even deeper.

  Lying curled on the back seat of her mother’s car as Doreen Sue drove home on a dark November night. A blinding flash of light…her mother hitting the brakes, the car screeching to a halt on the side of the road.

  Like Jerome. Just like Jerome.

  Dear God, why hadn’t she remembered before? Her mother had dragged her along to visit a woman in Ravenswood. Madam something-or-other, who professed to be a psychic. Katie had sat on the couch with the woman’s cat, a skinny, gray tabby, while Madam and her mother conversed in hushed whispers in the dining room. Another effort on her mom’s part to divine how her future would unfold and if she’d ever meet a decent man.

  Katie had fallen asleep on the way home, but the violent screech of the car had woken her. She remembered the light, her mother staring through the windshield in a daze, almost as if she’d been hypnotized. And then…

  Nothing.

  Nothing but drawing.

  “Katie, are you all right?”

  Sarah’s voice jarred her back to the present.

  For the span of several heartbeats, her breathing hung suspended. “I…” Her hands had grown clammy. The man in black had left. Sarah stared at her anxiously, her face creased with worry.

  “Yes, I…” With a deliberate tug to her shirt, Katie tried to recover. “That man reminded me of someone.” She glanced around the lobby, noticed the Cadillac had left too. “Where did he go?”

  “He didn’t say. Just repeated something about telling others not to talk about the lights. Personally, I think the guy needs help.” Sarah twirled her finger in a circle next to her ear. “He sounds like Jerome, chasing after UFOs.”

  “Yeah.” Katie managed a shaky laugh, but her stomach clenched. Maybe Jerome’s theories weren’t so far off base.

  * * * *

  Something wasn’t right.

  Uncertain if she should push for information, Doreen Sue nursed a cup of coffee while Katie busied around the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner. It had been nice of Katie to invite her to stay for the meal. When she’d tried to help with the dishes, her daughter had mumbled she was fine doing them alone.

  Point taken.

  In the living room, Sam occupied himself by watching TV and drawing, the occasional jingle from a commercial drifting to where she sat.

  If only Katie would open up and talk, but she’d never been one to share. Withdrawn and serious, she held problems close and kept others at a distance. Doreen Sue had never liked the void in their relationship, but knew she was partially to blame for Katie’s remoteness. She might never win Mother of the Year, but she’d loved both daughters unconditionally from the day they were born. Now she only had one left.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” She spoke to Katie’s back while the theme song for Bewitched floated from the living room.

  Katie paused in the process of setting a plate in the drain board—a fraction of a second before continuing the motion. “About what?” She reached into the sink of soapy water for another plate.

  Doreen Sue sighed. Wendy would have spilled her guts long before now. Katie would require prying, and even then she might not open up. A woman with a failed marriage, multiple problematic relationships, and a less-than-desirable reputation was hardly a woman to go to for advice. But what Katie didn’t realize was that hard living had taught Doreen Sue a thing or two about life. She understood people and could read them every bit as well as a psychiatrist or doctor with a string of initials behind their name. Maybe she didn’t have a college degree. Maybe she hadn’t even graduated high school, dropping out when she was sixteen, but she was a hell of a lot smarter than people gave her credit for. And right now she was fairly certain of the calamity that had Katie out of sorts. It didn’t matter what kind of woman you were; it always came back to a man.

  “It’s Lyle, isn’t it? You’re worried about Sam.”

  “Lyle?” Katie half-turned, dripping hands held over the sink. “Mom, Lyle gave up his rights to Sam before Sam was born. If he comes around here—” She stopped abruptly, clamping her mouth shut. “I don’t want to talk about this with Sam in the next room.”

  “You’re right.” How stupid of her. Children had big ears. Sam might be listening to Samantha and Darrin Stevens banter playfully about marriage and witchcraft, but might just as well be listening to them. “I’m sorry, Katie. I can see something’s bothering you. I know you’d rather talk to one of your friends, but—”

  “Mom, don’t.” Katie dropped a dishrag in the sink. She braced her fingers against the edge. Then, as if reaching a decision, she grabbed a towel and crossed to the table. “It’s not about Lyle.” Drying her hands, she took the seat across from Doreen Sue.

  For a time she said nothing, her expression unreadable. Fearing she would clam up again, Doreen Sue bit her tongue. Instinct made her want to coax, but that wasn’t the way with Katie. Tightening her fingers around her coffee cup, she waited.

  Finally, Katie drew a breath. “I need to ask you something.” She lowered her voice so Sam wouldn’t overhear. “And I need you to be truthful.”

  A fluttery laugh pushed from Doreen Sue’s throat. “Truthful? Katie, honey, what else would I be?” The word wounded her, but she had it coming. How many white lies had she told in the days when she’d run around with one man after another? When she’d woken up, passed out on the couch or hung over in the morning?

  Mama has the flu, baby….

  Mama’s going to meet an old friend from school….

  Mama can’t take you to the movies. She’s got to visit a sick friend.

  Shamed when Katie didn’t answer—they both knew there was reason for the question—she lowered her gaze and nodded. “I promise.”

  “Back when I was a kid…the summer before the bridge fell…” Katie spoke haltingly, the inflection of her voice uncertain.

  Doreen Sue glanced up, surprised by the concentration on her daughter’s face. Her brows were pulled together, the damp dish towel twisted between her hands.

  “You took me with you to Ravenswood when you went to see some psychic. I don’t think it was about anything special, just one of those readings you liked to have done.”

  Doreen Sue tensed. She’d been certain her daughter had forgotten the events of that night. At the time, unable to explain the
odd encounter on their drive home, Doreen Sue had assured Katie she’d been dreaming. She’d kept up the falsehood until Katie stopped talking about the incident. Like a dream that gradually fades over time, growing murkier until forgotten, Doreen Sue was convinced the encounter had faded from her daughter’s memory.

  But Doreen Sue had never forgotten. She’d stood in that blinding light and gazed up into the sky, mesmerized by the circular craft hovering above the tree line.

  “Coming home there was a light,” Katie continued. “You stopped the car, and when I woke up, there was a blinding glow.”

  What she wouldn’t give for a cigarette. Doreen Sue swallowed hard, thinking of the Virginia Slims menthols in her purse. But Katie didn’t smoke and didn’t allow it in her home.

  Katie leaned forward. “You told me I was dreaming.”

  “You were.”

  “Mom.” She recoiled as if physically pushed. “You told me you’d be honest. Was it a UFO?”

  Trapped.

  Silly that it had taken all this time to admit. Doreen Sue had shared the story with others over the years, but never mentioned Katie was with her. She’d changed the date, said she was driving home alone when the incident happened. Let them ridicule her if they wanted, but not her daughter. The tale had made her friends with some, and left her scorned by others.

  “I…” If only she could wiggle her nose like Samantha Stevens and rewind the scene for a better outcome. Katie watched her intently, waiting for her answer. At last, she nodded and lowered her voice. “Yeah. I think it was a UFO.”

  Exhaling, as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders, Katie sat back in her chair. “I’ve been trying to remember all day, but can only grasp bits and pieces. Mostly, I remember the light. Will you tell me what happened?”

  Doreen Sue wet her lips. She should be grateful her daughter was genuinely interested, but feared dooming Katie to the same pitfalls that had befallen her all those years ago—odd visitors who’d warned her not to speak of what she’d seen, rapping noises on the walls at night, sounds on the roof, open cupboard doors in the kitchen as if an unseen presence had rooted through her things. She hadn’t felt that fear in ages, but the ripples of dread, long forgotten, awakened gooseflesh on her arms.