Carmel coughed, holding her hand over her throat when she pulled herself higher. “Help…” It was barely out before another series of dry hacks gripped her chest.
Amanda turned her attention once more to the dark shadows across the room. The last she saw of them before they disappeared into the wall were the red eyes staring at her. She sank down barely catching herself, gripping the footboard of the bed before she fell to the floor.
Oh my God. She gulped air, her chest heaving like she’d run a marathon.
“Thank you.” Carmel’s voice was a hoarse whisper before she fell back onto the bed.
With quivering legs Amanda managed to step over and slump down on the bed, sitting next to Carmel. “I...I don’t know why…” Her words were numb while thoughts whirled in her head. Why had she said that? Of all the things to say, that would have been her absolute last choice. God? Where did that come from?
A light from the hallway outside sliced a triangle through the room when the door opened. Amanda looked over to see Linda standing in the crack next to the edge of the door. “What’s going on? I heard voices in here while I was doing my rounds. You should be asleep instead of waking everyone up. I’m going to put this in my file notes.”
A gruff chuckle rumbled in Amanda’s throat. File notes? Ha! Linda was the one behind all that had happened and now she had the gall to threaten her? “Go ahead. Knock yourself out, Linda. Just stay away from this room.”
“No problem.” Linda banged the door when she backed out.
Carmel stared into Amanda’s eyes. “See? She was right outside the door the whole time. She made them attack me.”
Amanda didn’t have to be told twice. It was clear that Linda was behind all the crap that was going on. She’d been right there the whole time that Carmel was attacked.
This was going to be a long night
THIRTY ONE
MIKE DROGAN SPIED A SMALL DINER ACROSS THE STREET when he emerged from his motel room the next morning. Tupper Lake wasn’t a big town so it would be a good guess that most people would know about a house burning to the ground. He entered the restaurant and took a seat at the long counter, inhaling the aroma of bacon and coffee. There were only a few people occupying booths next to the window.
“Coffee?” A middle aged woman in a white blouse and dark skirt appeared before him, already plunking down a mug while offering the steaming pot with her other hand.
“Yes, please.” He eased back watching the cup fill. “I’ll have two poached eggs on toast, darlin’.” The bacon was tempting but it was a luxury that his wife rationed sparingly due to his health. His angina attack last year had scared the hell out of her.
“You bet. Rye, white or whole wheat?” She called over her shoulder as she walked over to the kitchen pass through.
“Rye,” he mumbled, biting back what he wanted to say—white with gobs of butter. He watched her give the order to the cook, a balding man with stringy arms, blue with elaborate tats. When she turned he beckoned her over, “I’m looking for the location of a house that recently burned to the ground. An old lady lived there I believe.”
Her eyebrows drew together in a frown while her eyes gave him the once over. “Why do you want to know? You’re not from around here, are you?”
“No, I’m not. I’m here seeing my sister Jane Drogan at Serenity Lodge. Her friend there accidentally burned her house down. I just thought I’d see where it is before I go to see her today. The old lady is a bit dotty so she couldn’t tell me where it was. Call me nosy, but that kind of thing interests me.” Often, a bit of truth made a lie more believable in his experience as an investigator.
Her face softened and she stepped closer. “I know what you mean. I live two blocks over but when I smelled the smoke and heard the sirens, I couldn’t resist. It was damned lucky the old doll wasn’t there or she’d be history. Burned right to the ground. Happened so fast it was scary.”
“Oh yeah? Do you know Carmel? Carmel Turner that’s the old lady who lived there.” He took a long sip of coffee, trying to temper his interest so she wouldn’t think he was some kind of pyro nut-job.
“No, I don’t know her personally but I know her neighbor on the one side. I was worried that Ruth’s house was going to go up as well.” She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Thank God, it didn’t. Poor Ruth has her hands full with two lazy teenagers to contend with.”
“Oh. Yes that was lucky, I guess. Did Ruth know Carmel? I don’t think Carmel has many visitors at the home. Maybe she’d want to go to see her.”
The waitress snorted, “Not likely. The old lady kept to herself. Not that there’s anything wrong with that but when Ruth’s cat went missing and she knocked on the old lady’s door to see if she’d seen him, she just shut the door in her face.” The older waitress looked around before she leaned in and in a loud whisper, “Ruth thought the old lady did something to her cat. A few cats in the neighborhood had also gone missing, if you know what I mean.”
Mike nodded, although he had no idea why Carmel would steal cats. “I can understand why she’d dislike the old woman. Cats are part of the family, aren’t they? But why would she steal a cat do you think?”
“Huh! Who knows? Maybe she hated cats. Funny though.”
When a bell rang the waitress smiled, “That’ll be your breakfast.” She went over to the pass through and brought the plate of food to Mike.
Before she left again he quickly asked, “What street is the old lady’s house on? I’d like to see what’s left.”
“Oh. Yeah I forgot to mention that. It’s Henrietta Street. If you turn left when you leave, you’ll come to a set of stoplights. That’s Henrietta. Go right and you’ll find the house three blocks up there.”
“Thanks! I’ll be sure to go there.” Mike turned to his breakfast where the two eggs were like yellow eyes gaping up at him. A side of bacon would make the calorie wise meal go down better but he could never lie to Hilda. She’d know he cheated.
A half an hour later, he stood on the sidewalk peering at the blackened hull of what was once Carmel Turner’s home. A wrought iron fence framed the front yard that was intersected in half by a concrete walkway. A ‘Do Not Enter’ sign propped against the foundation of the house must have been put there by the fire department.
Mike was so busy peering at the burnt husk of the building that he didn’t hear a woman approach. When she spoke he jerked back turning to look at her.
“Some fire, huh?” The woman was in her mid forties, but it had been a hard ridden life from the lines etched into face. Her sweatshirt and jeans looked too big for her, hanging loose and unkempt.
He nodded. “I’ll say. It was an old lady’s house, I hear. Did you know her?”
“Naw. But I used to see her when she went out for groceries and stuff. I live across the street.” She raised a bony hand pointing to a small stucco bungalow two doors down. “She kept weird hours for an old woman. I’d see her lights on and movement at all hours of the night. Sometimes it looked like she was talking to someone with her finger pointed, practically yelling. She was an odd one.”
“She must have had company...maybe a relative or friend?” This didn’t square with what the waitress had said—that she was a loner.
The woman huffed, “Maybe. There was one guy in his fifties who’d come to see her sometimes. At first I thought that maybe he was her son but now I’m not sure. He just seemed so well dressed like he was some kind of professional or something while she always wore the same thing- a black dress and sloppy old sweater. I don’t know what he was to her but he never stayed more than ten minutes. A son wouldn’t treat their mother like that. Maybe a nephew.”
“What kind of car did he drive?” If it was Stone then it probably was expensive. And the description of the man being well dressed fit the bill.
“I don’t know. A silver sports car. It had some kind of hood ornament like maybe a Mercedes? It was always shiny like it’d just been cleaned.” The woman cocked her head and looked c
losely at him. “Who are you? Some relative or maybe you’re an insurance investigator?”
“Nope. Just a looky loo. Burned down houses interest me. Maybe in a past life I was a fireman”. He smiled to let her know he was joking but from the puzzled look on her face she didn’t get it.
“I gotta go. Don’t go in there. It’s not safe even though the floor is still there.” She pointed at the sign. “Like the sign says.”
“Got it.” Mike turned away and walked back to the motel to get his car. He hadn’t learned much more than what he already knew but seeing the place gave him a bad vibe. Carmel wasn’t the sweet old lady that she pretended to be. Jane was right about that. Missing cats and staying up to all hours of the night. Why? What was she up to?
THIRTY TWO
KELLY HELD THE PHONE TO HER EAR while trying to grab the cereal and milk for her breakfast. It was good to talk to Mom but the timing could be better. She didn’t want to miss the bus again.
Her mother sounded tired when she asked, “What did you do last night?”
“Not much. Hung out with Neil for a bit. He wants me to go out with him on Halloween. I’ve got to come up with a costume. It’s tonight for Pete’s sake.” Kelly poured cereal into the bowl on the table. She looked up when her father entered the kitchen and she mouthed ‘Mom’ at his questioning look.
“That reminds me. My patient...I mean resident, Mrs. Turner has asked to meet you Kelly. She wants to see your costume before you go out.”
Kelly’s eyes bulged and her mouth fell open. Why would Mom even mention anything about her to some old lady? She’d be way too busy getting her costume ready to take time out to go to the nursing home. Plus, why would she care about some old woman her mother worked with? “I don’t think I can. Not tonight at least. Can we—”
“Come on Kelly! I’d love to see you before you go out! I always help with your costume. I’m curious to see what you’ll come up with on your own. And it’ll just be for ten minutes. Your father can run you over and then you’ll be free to have fun with Neil.”
“What’s she want?” Her father paused as he was about to pour a mug of coffee.
Kelly clamped her hand over the phone and hissed at him, “She wants me to go to the nursing home so some old lady can meet me tonight. She says she wants to see my costume. I’m going to feel like a complete idiot going there all dressed up.”
Her father let out a chuckle. “No you won’t. It’s not going to kill you to take fifteen minutes out of your day to do this for your mother. She deserves that at least.”
Shit! Dad was playing the guilt card and it was working. Poor Mom. Not bad enough to be stuck in that place 24/7 but missing out on seeing her at Halloween too? “Okay. But it’s going to be a short visit. I’ll be there at seven. Neil wants to go out at seven-thirty after the little kids are done.”
“Compromise. Make it six forty-five and we have a deal.” Her mother chuckled, which added to Kelly’s irritation.
“That hardly gives me any time to get ready! Maybe Dad will pick me up at school so I have more time.” Kelly looked over at her father, giving her best Daddy’s little girl smile. It was good that they’d cleared the air last night. Seeing him in his ripped T-shirt and scruffy beard, how could she ever have thought he was running around on her mother?
He gave the thumbs up sign and continued with his coffee.
“Okay. Just don’t make a big deal parading me around to all your friends. This is embarrassing enough, showing your little girl off to some old lady who probably wouldn’t know black from white.” She could just picture it, some dotty woman who smelled like mothballs.
“She’s not that bad. And she’s going through a tough time right now. Seeing you would be a welcome distraction for both of us.”
Something in her mother’s voice didn’t sit well with Kelly. Sure she was tired but there was an underlying hint of… what? Loneliness? Probably. “Okay. Listen, I’ve got to get ready for school. I’ll call you later.”
“Have a good day at school, hon. Love you!”
“Love you too! Bye.” Kelly clicked the phone off and wolfed her cereal. She only had ten minutes till she had to be out the door to catch the bus. What would she wear for Halloween? She’d have to find out what Neil was going as and maybe coordinate their outfits. Maybe they could sneak out at lunch time to visit the Goodwill store. There was bound to be something there they could use.
She dashed into her bedroom and grabbed her jean jacket and knapsack. With two minutes to spare she arrived at the bus stop to join Neil and her friends. They would make this the best Halloween ever!
THIRTY THREE
RYAN STONE SET THE RAZOR on the vanity and wiped the frothy shaving cream still clinging near his ear away. He gazed at his reflection noting the deep lines etched between his eyebrows. The skin under his jaw and chin had loosened now looking more like a double chin than he had ever noticed before. It totally sucked getting old. It didn’t matter that he’d cheated the aging process for more years than he could count, it was still happening. A fetus would buy him some time but that wasn’t good enough anymore.
His eyes narrowed when he thought of the research he’d so painstakingly labored over. Injecting embryonic stem cells had showed great promise first with the rats and then with the patients at the nursing home. You could practically see the improvement immediately in the test subjects. But over the last forty-eight hours the rat had suffered multiple seizures and his prize patient in the home Gladys barely clung to life after a brain bleed.
His days at the nursing home were numbered. When other patients he’d injected became sick or died suddenly, they would be sure to look more closely at his part in that.
If he was going to do this Renaissance, it had to happen today. Carmel had her ducks in a row for her rebirth but he still hadn’t managed to get his own subject.
The night before he’d come close to securing a young teenage boy but at the last minute the kid’s gang of young thugs had showed up. It had been a total set-up to rob him of his money and car. He’d barely managed to escape and a few of the rocks they’d hurled had dented the side of his Benz. He should have known better than to cruise in that seedy part of town.
This time he wasn’t taking any chances. The lure of easy money hadn’t worked but packing a pistol was sure to do the trick. He finished in the bathroom and then dressed in his most expensive hand-tailored suit. It was all about a convincing image. Looking successful was easy when it was authentic. Playing an aging gay looking to score with a young kid had been stupid. It wasn’t who he was. The kid last night had smelled fake right from the get go.
He slipped his trench coat on and grabbed the gun from his desk. He chuckled as he locked the door to his apartment. Carmel had begged him to release her from the nursing home. Well, she’d get her wish that very day. Once he had his subject secured in his apartment, she’d teach him how to capture the young boy’s essence—his soul—to enable his rebirth. After that Carmel could go to hell for all he cared.
As he walked to his shiny silver sports car he thought of what he’d been driving when he pulled up to the orphanage where he first met Carmel. It was hard to believe how proud he’d been of his rig, the latest design in carriages drawn by an ebony stallion. The truth was as a newly graduated doctor of medicine he really couldn’t afford it but his grandfather had always said, dress for what you want to become, not as what you are now. Image is everything.
Well, she’d bought right into it, hired him as the sole physician at the Home for Wayward Girls. It was only after he’d worked there for a year that he discovered she needed him as cover. The government had been cracking down on these institutions, demanding a certified level of care—which was where he came in with his medical degree. But what did he know of that at the time he took the job? He’d been in his early twenties, a kid wet behind the ears.
Twice, he had witnessed Carmel transform from a crone in her seventies to a young woman once again. Now it was his
turn. She’d promised and by hell she was going to keep that promise this time. No more slowing his process; he was going to reset just like her!
He drove his Mercedes across town, watching the streets for a stray lad. Carmel had always used a girl on the cusp of womanhood, before her menses started. By that logic he needed a twelve or thirteen year old boy. Seeing the brick school sprawling across an entire city block he parked the car to begin his wait. A glance at the clock on the dash showed that it was close to noon. They’d be breaking for lunch soon and some of them were bound to stray from the safety of the school property.
He just had to wait. He was good at waiting. He’d waited for a hundred and forty years after all.
THIRTY FOUR
KELLY STOOD NEXT TO THE HEDGE which marked the boundary at the back of the school’s property. The sandwich she’d wolfed down sat like a lump in the pit of her gut as she watched Neil amble over to where she was. A quick scan of the yard showed that the teachers monitoring the lunch break were busy in a conversation not even glancing around the yard. Younger kids were playing tag or climbing on the jungle gym screaming with joy at being in the fresh air and freedom from class.
“Hey. You ready?”
When Neil gave a last look around and then nodded, Kelly slipped through a narrow gap in the cedars close to the ground. With two footholds she was up and over the chain link fence, landing smoothly on the sidewalk. She turned in time to see Neil land next to her, grinning like a hyena.
“Let’s go! We’ve only got forty minutes till the bell rings. I have no clue what I’m going as tonight.” Kelly scowled at Neil. “You’re serious about going as Jack Sparrow? A pirate? How am I going to find anything to make a pirate’s costume at the Goodwill Store?”
Graveyard Shift Page 14
