The 45th Parallel

by Maureen Hands

  Kat watched him as he tried to catch his breath and then said, “John…are you all right?”

  “Kat? You stayed here last night?” John asked looking completely lost. “I remember driving you to the winery but I don’t remember how I got here.”

  “You don’t remember?”

  John looked at her and tilted his head to the side. “Were we drinking wine?”

  “You had a run in with one of those creatures at the winery.” Kat explained to John what happened, leaving out the part about their passionate kiss. She had a gut feeling it was best to keep that to herself.

  “Thank you for staying with me,” John muttered. Kat handed him a cup of coffee and knelt down in front of him.

  “I know Martine is in the guesthouse if you need help. I’m going to go back to Aunt Mary’s. Anna is out front. She is going to take me home.”

  John looked at her with an unfathomable expression. “No, I will be all right. You go home and we will all get together this evening and try the bowl again.”

  Kat smiled, stood, and started to walk out but paused when she heard John call her name.

  “I will walk you out,” John said. He stood, took a deep breath and rubbed his hand through his hair before walking with her out onto the front porch.

  “Were you having a bad dream?” Kat asked.

  “No…I don’t dream. Why do you ask?”

  “You just…woke up with such a start, and you were breathing very heavy…just a moment before you were so still and peaceful.”

  “Sleeping like the dead,” John said quietly. Kat stopped walking and looked into his distressed face.

  “You didn’t move all night. I checked several times to make sure you were breathing.”

  “I am a very still sleeper.”

  “Are you sure you are all right?”

  John’s expression softened and he said, “Yes, I will be fine.”

  “I will see you tonight. Call me if you need anything,” Kat said as she left. He stood on the porch watching her drive away with Anna. Kat thought about what he said when she asked if he was having a bad dream. “No, I don’t dream.” Surely he meant to say “No, I wasn’t dreaming.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  When Kat got home that morning, Mary was sitting at the table reading the newspaper. When she heard Kat, she looked up, smiled, and said, “Carl and I are going into Traverse City for dinner tonight. Would you like to join us?”

  “Thanks anyway but I am getting together with my cousins after work.”

  “When are you working today?” Mary asked.

  “I have the ten to four shift,” Kat said as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

  “Well, I am off to the store,” Mary said as she gave Kat a hug and walked out of the house.

  Kat got a bowl of cereal and sat down at the table. Her cell phone rang and the sound made her jump. The memory of Crowley standing behind her holding her cell phone in Muldoon’s parking lot flashed through her mind.

  “Hello.”

  “Kat this is Lisa. I hate to bug you but I still can’t reach Cole. I’m starting to get worried. Will you let me know if you see or hear from him?”

  “Sure, no problem, maybe he will show up this week to ride with us,” Kat said.

  “I hope so. I will talk to you later.”

  Kat began to wonder if Cole sudden illness had anything to do with the creature they saw last night. When she got off work, Kat went home, showered, and made herself a sandwich for dinner. They were all supposed to meet at John’s house at seven.

  When Kat arrived, everyone else was already there. Patrick, Anna, Helene, and Martine were sitting on the couches, and John was leaning with his back against the bar. Both John and Patrick looked exhausted, but better than they had looked the night before.

  “Do you think my vision will be blocked?” Kat asked Martine.

  “All we can do is try,” Martine said as she stood and began walking toward the stairs to the lower level. They followed Martine downstairs and took their seats at the table. The lights were dim and there were five lit candles around the bowl.

  Patrick and Anna sat next to Kat and John and Helene sat on the other side of the table. Martine stood behind Kat.

  “I’m going to concentrate on what happened to John’s parents,” Kat said. “I’d like all of you to concentrate on the same thing.”

  They all took hands, closed their eyes and focused. Once Kat felt serene, she opened her eyes and looked into the bowl. The water clouded up and Kat could see John’s parents tied to a large tree at the edge of a clearing in the woods. John’s father’s head hung to the right, his throat was slit and the spiral with the crescent moon was carved into his chest. His lifeless eyes stared blindly forward. His mother cried out in anguish, “You will never break the curse.” Before she could say any more, someone in a dark hooded cloak approached her with a knife and sliced her throat open. The cloak made it impossible to see the killer’s face, but the strange luminescent skin made it clear it was one of the creatures. Before she could see anymore, the image vanished.

  They all dropped hands and Kat looked around the table, her pulse pounding in her ears. Everyone sat there in stunned silence until finally Anna spoke.

  “We all saw your image, Kat. This time, we could all see what you were seeing. I can feel it from everyone.”

  Kat looked at John with alarm. His face was white and rigid, his hands clenched into fists on the table. He stood without saying a word, walked out of the room and outside onto the lower deck.

  “I think I liked it better when Kat was the only one seeing the visions,” Patrick said quietly.

  Kat pushed back from the table and went out to the deck where John was standing. He was leaning against the railing with his back to her.

  “John, I’m so sorry you saw that.” Kat paused and swallowed back tears. “I didn’t know you would be able to see.”

  “I have to find those creatures. They must be destroyed,” John said through clenched teeth.

  “It’s enough to know your mom and dad are dead. You shouldn’t have to watch them die,” Kat said, her eyes filling with tears. John turned suddenly and grabbed Kat by the shoulders.

  “You must try harder to see what they are…where they are,” John said through clenched teeth. The tone of his voice frightened her, and his grip on her shoulders was beginning to hurt.

  “I’m trying, but I am being blocked. Please, you’re hurting me.” Tears streamed down Kat’s face. John closed his eyes, let go of Kat’s shoulders and turned back toward the lake. Kat wanted to embrace him, to comfort him, but the set of his jaw and his posture made him unreachable.

  Kat began to walk back into the house. My visions seemed to bring nothing but grief. She stopped as she reached the door to the house and turned slowly back toward John.

  “I have seen my mother die many times, John,” she said softly. “That image will stay burned in your mind for a long time. Eventually it will get easier. I’m sorry.”

  John’s hands tightened on the deck rail, but he did not move. Kat turned back around and walked quietly into the house.

  Patrick had been standing outside of the wine cellar watching Kat and John on the deck. When Kat came back in he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong, Kat,” Patrick said. “No one promised the truth would be pretty. Do you want me to drive you home?”

  “No,” Kat said as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’ll be all right.”

  “John will be all right too,” Martine said from behind Patrick. “I think there was a part of him that harbored hope his parents were still alive. He needs to accept that they are no longer here. Why don’t y’all head home and I’ll make sure he is okay.”

  “Thanks Martine,” Kat mumbled as they walked up the stairs to the front door and out to their cars.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The next morning, Greg sat in his office and put to
gether an agenda of business items he wanted to discuss with John before he went back to Chicago. Thankfully, Greg had not heard from West since West had picked up the case of ecstasy wine and demanded that the next pick up include a bottle of deadly nightshade. Maybe West had been satisfied with the first case of wine and changed his mind about the deadly nightshade.

  It had taken seven miserable nights before Greg’s nightly visitor finally stopped coming. Despite the creature’s apparent loss of interest, it had been several weeks since Greg had ventured out after dark. At this time of the year up north, the last bit of sunlight faded at nine-thirty or ten. This early curfew was putting a definite crimp on Greg’s social life. Although having no social life was preferable to having the life drained out of you.

  Greg heard someone in the tasting room putting bottles in the wine cooler. Helene or Cindy must be here. He walked out to the tasting room and stood in the doorway watching Helene. Greg wondered if she had any idea how beautiful she was. It took her a couple minutes to realize he was there.

  “Oh my gosh,” Helene said holding her hand to her chest. “You scared me. How long have you been standing there?”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “Is John here yet?”

  “Not yet,” Greg said, giving her a suggestive smile. “It’s just you and me.”

  “You’re not trying to hit on me, are you?” Helene asked as she raised one eyebrow and put her hand on her hip.

  “Of course, but I would stop hitting on you if you would finally agree to come and have dinner with me.”

  “I give you points for persistence but I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Work relationships are always a disaster. Besides, I don’t trust people from California.”

  “You’re only working here for the summer, and I’m a Michigander now. I even started wearing sensible shoes.”

  Helene glanced down at Greg’s worn cowboy boots. “Let’s assume I agree to go on a date with you, where would you take me?”

  “We could go to Leland. There are a couple nice restaurants there. Or I could make you dinner at my house.”

  “Can you cook?” Helene asked.

  “It just so happens I have some fresh salmon that would be wonderful on the grill. Would you like to come over after work tonight?”

  “You want me to come straight from here to your house?” Helene said as she glanced down at her T-shirt and jeans.

  “Yes, you don’t have to change your clothes. You are beautiful just the way you are.”

   •●• 

  Helene eyed Greg cautiously. “All right, I will come over for dinner tonight, but only because I like salmon.”

  A slight smile touched the corners of Greg’s mouth. “I’m looking forward to it,” he said.

  Helene watched Greg walk through the tasting room and go down the steps into the blending room. She liked the way he looked in jeans. Although Greg had asked her out several times she always turned him down. She enjoyed his friendship and didn’t want to mess it up by dating.

  The day went by quickly. They had a steady flow of customers in all day. Greg was helping them out in the tasting room most of the day, but disappeared around five p.m. The Winery closed at six, and Helene went into the bathroom to brush her teeth, comb her hair and put on some lip gloss before leaving work and driving the short distance to Greg’s house. She parked her car in the gravel drive and walked up the creaky wooden steps onto the porch.

  The gentle evening breeze was blowing through the chimes and carrying the soft music in through the screen door and into the house. Helene could see Greg tearing lettuce and putting the leaves in a colander. She tapped lightly on the door before walking in. Greg turned and smiled when he saw her.

  “Hello beautiful. Come on in,” he said.

  “The place looks great,” Helene said as she walked in and looked around Greg’s newly remodeled kitchen.

  Greg smiled and went to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of wine.

  “How about a glass of Pinot Grigio? I have some Raclette cheese as an appetizer which should pair very nicely with the wine.”

  “I’m impressed. I was a little worried that I would get here and you would have ordered pizza,” Helene said.

  Greg handed Helene a glass of wine. “I guess you don’t know me as well as you thought you did. Why don’t we sit on the back porch?” Greg motioned to French doors at the back of the kitchen.

  Helene walked out onto the back porch and sat down at a small café table. The table was covered with a white table cloth. In the center of the table was a small vase containing a lavender rose. Greg followed Helene out holding his wine glass and a plate of cheese and crackers.

  “This cheese is made locally,” Greg said as he popped a piece in his mouth and looked out to the vineyard beyond. Helene studied Greg’s handsome face while he seemed momentarily occupied. He had a strong, square jaw line, big hazel eyes, and wavy, light brown hair, but it was his smile that really drew Helene. It was always warm, genuine, and promising fun. Helene reached over, picked up the vase and smelled the rose.

  “Wow, you actually picked up a real rose, or is this left over from another date?” Helene asked with a playful smile on her face.

  Greg put his wine glass down and leaned in closer to Helene, his face very serious.

  “You know what a lavender rose represents?” he asked. “It represents love at first sight or enchantment. I got it today for you.”

  Helene raised her eyebrow and leaned back in her chair. “I don’t believe in love at first sight.”

  Greg chuckled softly to himself. There was a moment of awkward silence.

  “When are you going to start harvesting these grapes?” Helene asked as she looked out to the vineyard surrounding Greg’s house. Greg leaned back in his chair and gave her a playful smile.

  “We will start to harvest in September. With the rainfall this summer and the warm temperatures, the grapes are about two weeks ahead of schedule. It will be a good year for reds.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Red wines need more growing time. The warm summer has lengthened the growing season.” Greg finished off his glass of wine and said, “I’ll bring out the rest of the bottle and get the grill started.” Helene watched Greg go back into the house as she took a big gulp of her wine. Greg came back out, filled her glass, and started the grill.

  “Can I help you with anything?” Helene asked.

  “You can help me with lots of things,” Greg said lasciviously.

  “I mean with dinner,” Helene said as she raised her eyebrow.

  “Why don’t you open a bottle of wine to have with dinner while I throw the salmon on?”

  “More Pinot Grigio?”

  “A Chardonnay would be better with salmon,” Greg said. They both went back into the house and Helene took a bottle of Chardonnay out of the refrigerator while Greg prepared the salmon for the grill. She put the bottle in a stainless steel wine bucket on the counter.

  “Are you going to stick around to help out during harvest time?” Greg asked.

  “I’ll be here until the last week in September.”

  “We could use some extra hands,” Greg said as he gently took Helene’s hand.

  Helene looked from her hand into Greg’s face and asked, “What part of California are you from?”

  “Northern California,” Greg said as he let go of Helene’s hand and traced his fingers up her arm to her shoulder.

  “Do you think you will ever go back there?”

  Greg crossed his arms across his chest and looked down at the floor. “No,” he said. “My home is here now.” He picked up the plate with the salmon and said, “I better throw the fish on the grill.”

  Helene followed him out and sat back down on the porch while he put the fish on the grill.

  “Don’t you miss it?”

  “Miss what?”

  “California.”

  Greg’s expression darkened. “No, I don’t m
iss it,” he said in a low voice.

  “What time did you leave the Full Moon Celebration the other night?”

  “I left too early to dance with you.”

  “You should have stuck around. It was an interesting crowd.”

  “How so?”

  “Have you ever heard of anyone practicing black magic in Northport?” Helene asked.

  Greg, who had been about to flip the salmon over, froze. He turned sharply to look at Helene and said, “Why in the world would you ask me that?”

  “Sorry …I didn’t mean to upset you. I just overheard some people talking about it at the Full Moon Celebration.”

  The expression on Greg’s face softened a bit. “You didn’t upset me. Your question just came out of left field,” Greg said as he closed the grill lid and walked over to sit by Helene. “Who was talking about black magic?”

  “I didn’t recognize them. They just said they thought there was a group of people in Northport that practiced the black arts.”

  “I thought I left all the crazy people in California,” Greg said and he leaned back in the chair. “I would avoid anyone who claims to practice the black arts, Helene.”

  “Don’t worry, I will.”

  “This fish is almost done. Shall we eat inside or out?” Greg asked.

  “Let’s eat in your new kitchen. I think the bugs will eat us alive out here.”

  “Great, I’ll get the fish,” Greg said. He got the fish and turned off the grill. Helene grabbed the bottle of wine and the cheese plate from the table and carried them into the kitchen.

  Greg lit a candle and dimmed the lights in the kitchen. Helene sat at the table and poured two glasses of Chardonnay. Greg served a nice salad and rice with the salmon.

  “This is very good,” Helene said as she tasted her fish.

  “You sound so surprised,” Greg said.