The ghost child from last night?
She moved onward with reckless persistence, one boot planted in front of the other. When the ground dipped, she lurched forward, her foot hovering for a second in midair. Thrown off balance, she hooked an arm around a tree trunk, spinning around it in a half-circle, like a square dancer at a barn dance.
Catching her breath, she squinted into the dark.
Where are you, damn it?
Then she saw the child—if that's what it was—half hidden by a tree. Crouching low, Sadie waited until the white shape moved away before dashing toward the woods. She made it without mishap and leaned against a tree.
"This is crazy," she scolded herself. "What are you doing?"
She covered her mouth, partly to muffle the sound but also to hide the mist her breath was making. Her heart thumped in her chest so loudly she was sure it could be heard.
The white shape was just ahead.
Guided by the moonlight, Sadie continued through the trees.
Six yards to go.
She peered over her shoulder to ensure that she could still see the light from the cabin. It seemed a great distance away. Still, she moved forward, the sound of the river trickling over the rocks concealing her progress. With the poker raised above her head, she took another step closer and a twig cracked beneath her boots.
Up ahead, someone muttered something unintelligible.
Sadie turned on the flashlight.
An ethereal face with wide doe eyes stared back at her.
"What are you doing out here?" Sadie asked, baffled.
21
Before her stood a young girl—eight or nine years old maybe—wearing a white bath towel over her head and body. Underneath, she had on a white cotton nightgown with a yellow peace sign on the front.
Liquid pools of blue blinked once, twice, from beneath thick, dark lashes. "I'm sorry," the girl said in a trembling voice.
"For wha—?"
A solid weight slammed into Sadie's back. The poker and flashlight flew into the air, and as she hurtled toward the ground, she flung her arms out and braced for the fall. She hit the frozen ground, knees first, and slid onto her stomach, her palms skidding, burning. She let out a pained gasp, then closed her eyes, her heart beating frantically against her chest.
It would be so easy to lie here…die here.
Footsteps tramped through the woods—away from her. She lifted her head, but saw only fleeting shadows. Her fingertips grazed cold metal. She retrieved the poker, then struggled to her feet and searched for the flashlight.
But it was nowhere to be found.
"Wait! Who are you?" She tipped her head, listening, but the woods were silent. "I won't hurt you. I just want to…"
What did she want?
She turned in the direction of what she hoped to God was the cabin. In the encompassing darkness, she couldn't tell. As she carefully maneuvered between bushes and trees, she paused every now and then to listen for the river. When she broke from the woods, she found herself on the beach, the cabin a few yards away. She strode toward it, throwing anxious looks over her shoulder.
Someone had attacked her. But who?
She had felt a strong body behind her, but had seen nothing, heard no one. Except the girl.
"No children around here," she muttered. "Yeah right, Irma."
Someone living nearby obviously had a daughter.
Infinity Cabin welcomed her, undisturbed in its solitary existence. Cursing herself for losing the flashlight, she fumbled in the dark and lit the oil lamp. With determination, she strode toward the back door and slid the deadbolt into place. Staring at it, she didn't feel safe. Not one bit. So she pushed the armchair in front of the door.
"Let's see you get through that!"
As a final measure she jammed a broom handle against the sliding door frame. No one would be able to open it without removing the broom first. She grabbed another rum and cola and dragged the comforter from the bedroom. Then she curled up on the sofa, the poker propped up within reach.
Just in case.
Morning crept into the cabin, and an ominous sound boomed through the air, then dwindled into a low drone.
Foggy-headed, Sadie sat up. She flung back the blanket and sucked in a deep breath as pain shot through her knees and hands. She stared at her palms, noting the fresh scrapes and dried blood. Her gaze went from her clothes—the same ones she had worn yesterday—to the grandfather clock, and then to the simmering fireplace.
She frowned. "Okay…why am I out here?"
The clock gonged again. It died midway, as if someone had gripped its innards in a chokehold.
Sadie looked at her watch. "It's ten o'clock and all you could manage were two gongs?" She caught sight of the chair by the door. "What the heck was I doing last night?"
She rubbed her forehead, trying to remember.
A girl! She had seen a girl in the woods.
"Or did you?"
Doubt plagued her, especially when she noticed the open bottle of rum on the counter. She staggered into the bathroom, took one look at her unkempt reflection and made a face. She picked up the hairbrush, intent on getting the tangles out of her hair, then frowned and dropped the brush on the counter.
Why bother? No one would see her anyway.
Except maybe the girl…
"You're seeing things. That's what it is. You haven't had booze for so long, you're hallucinating." She snorted. "And talking to yourself."
Confident that she had solved the previous night's events, she decided to have a luxurious bath. She had to boil water on the Coleman stove and in the fireplace—three pots at a time. It took fifteen pots of hot water and a few cold ones to fill the tub halfway. Hell, it wasn't like she had anything better to do.
Sadie soaked for a long while, allowing the past week's anxiety to melt away. She shampooed her hair, then rinsed it in the bath water. Closing her eyes, she slid underwater until she was completely submerged. She held her breath as long as she could, and when she came up sputtering for air, she was disappointed. Drowning herself was definitely out of the question.
After she towel dried her hair, she shrugged on her jacket and reached for the sliding door. The broom handle in the track made her pause. She tugged at it, her brow furrowed in puzzlement. What was she trying to keep out?
Sweeping her thoughts under an imaginary rug, she grabbed her laptop and purse, then headed down the path. Once she reached Irma's cabin, she could hear the elderly woman singing inside. It wasn't a harmonious sound.
Sadie hesitated. Should I invite her into town with me?
As soon as the thought blossomed, she squashed it. Getting too involved in a friendship right now wasn't fair. Not to Irma.
The Mercedes was right where she had left it. She climbed in and the engine purred the moment she started it. The sound was comforting, and she backed the car out of the clearing and ambled onto the road. When she looked into the rearview mirror, Irma was standing near the freezer, watching her.
"Back so soon, Sadie O'Connell?" Ed gave her a sly wink and set down the glass he was drying. "Just couldn't keep away from me, could ya?"
She peered over her shoulder. The table in the corner was empty. No hecklers today.
"Yeah. Plus my laptop is dead and I need to charge my cell."
"Your cell?"
She held up her phone.
"Ah," Ed said with a nod. "Never did get me one of them things. Gives you brain cancer, I hear. You be careful, young lady." He nudged his head toward the end of the counter. "Plug is over there on the post."
She thanked him, slid the laptop from its carrying case and set it on the counter. Once the laptop and phone were plugged in and charging, she settled into a stool, elbows propped up on the polished wood of the bar.
Ed slid a steaming mug toward her. "You look like you need this. Didn't get much sleep last night, did you?" His eyes strayed to her damp, messy hair and gaunt face.
"You could say that." She t
ook a sip of coffee and let out a contented sigh. "This is heaven, Ed. Thanks. I still haven't figured out how to make coffee back at the cabin. Percolators are a bit before my time."
Ed swung a dishcloth over his shoulder. "The trick is to use a half a scoop less and a dash of cinnamon. And don't boil it too long."
"How about you just deliver me a carafe of coffee every morning," she suggested jokingly.
The grin that spread across the old man's face could have lit an entire town. "That's the best offer I've had in…well, decades." His face reddened, as if he just realized he'd spoken out loud.
Over the mug, she said, "How's the wife this morning?"
"You just had to go and spoil it," he grumbled. "Martha's doing fine. She works at the library."
He pronounced it "lie-berry".
That gave Sadie an idea. She needed something to do for an hour while she waited for her things to charge.
"How do I get there?"
"Drive down to the main lights, turn south and it's two blocks past the Esso on your right hand side."
"Is it okay if I leave these here to charge?" she asked, indicating the laptop and cell phone.
"Sure, I'm here 'til midnight. No one'll touch 'em."
A waft of cool air made her shiver. Behind her, someone had entered the pub. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw a bald man veering down the hall to the washrooms.
She turned back to Ed. "Thanks. I'll be back in an hour."
"Take as long as you like."
As she headed outside, the lyrics of Pretty Woman trailed after her from the jukebox. Ed's gravelly voice sang along. He sounded just like his sister. And just as bad.
Sadie drove to the 'li-berry'. In the almost empty parking lot, she slid into a spot by the door, next to a dented maroon-colored Cadillac with a vanity plate that read BUKS4U, which could have meant bucks for you or books for you.
She rolled her eyes. "Ten bucks says that's Martha's car."
Hinton Public Library held a modest collection of books and the walls displayed a montage of colorful posters, painted by the town's children, no doubt. The far right corner held a cozy children's nook with fluffy pastel pillows and low bookshelves. Overhead, a lifelike toy bat hung from the ceiling. A breeze—maybe from an open window—sent it fluttering the moment Sadie stepped inside. She stared at it and her mouth quivered.
"Can I help you?"
Sadie turned. A smartly dressed woman in her sixties rushed toward her, a stack of children's picture books in her arms. The woman was pleasantly rounded in a grandmotherly way, with curly gray-black hair that framed a plump face, hazel eyes and a cheerful smile. Attached to a silver chain around her neck, a pair of glasses rested against her chest. A nametag on the lapel of her jacket read, 'Martha V'.
"I'm in town for the day," Sadie explained. "And thought I'd check out your library, Martha."
"Well, let me know if you need anything, Miss…uh…"
"Sadie O'Connell. I'm—"
The woman just about dropped the books. "Not Sadie O'Connell, the author!"
Sadie winced. "Actually…yeah, the author."
Martha's chin dropped. "Good grief! I didn't even recognize you. You look—" The woman caught herself, beamed a bright smile, then motioned Sadie to a table in the corner. "Can I get you a coffee or anything?"
"Thanks, but I think I'm all coffee'd out. I was just at your husband's pub."
Martha set the books down and settled into a chair. "Please, have a seat, Miss O'Connell. Are you feeling all right? You look a little under the weather."
Under the weather was an understatement, and Sadie knew damned well that the woman was being polite.
"I haven't been sleeping well."
"That's dreadful." Martha folded her pudgy hands primly in her lap. "So what brings you here?"
An appointment with death, Sadie wanted to say.
"I'm staying in Cadomin for a while."
A swift smile lit up the woman's face. "You know, we don't get too many authors of your status around here. Would you consider doing a reading?"
A reading was the last thing Sadie wanted to do. That meant socializing with people, lots of smiling and no time to finish Sam's book.
"I'm sorry, but I'm just passing through. I have a…deadline to meet."
Martha's smile drooped. "Maybe later then. In the summer, perhaps. Wait! How long are you staying?"
"Not long. Another month maybe."
"Well, if you change your mind…"
I won't. "I'll let you know."
"So what can the Hinton Public Library do for you?"
Sadie shrugged. "I'm trying to kill some time while I wait for my laptop and phone to charge. They're over at Ed's."
Martha rose gracefully. "Well, how about I give you a little tour, then? We have some historical memorabilia here that might interest you." She slid her glasses over her nose as they reached a wall of photographs. "This is our history wall. Hinton became a real settlement when the Grande Trunk Pacific Railroad passed through over a hundred years ago. Then in 1931, the Hinton mine opened. Ten years later, Hinton was a ghost town. Until 1955, when the first pulp mill went in." She paused, breathless. "Am I boring you?"
"Not at all."
And that was the truth. History had always fascinated Sadie, and it often found its way into her novels.
Martha tapped her mouth with one finger. "You're staying in Cadomin, you said?"
"At Harmony Cabins."
"How wonderful. Ed's always fretting about his sister being out there by herself. Well, if you don't count those men in the other cabins. It'll be nice for Irma to have another female around."
Sadie's attention drifted to a photo of a cave. "Is this nearby?"
"Cadomin Cave, one of the major sights in these here parts. It's not too far. Just follow the signs on your way back to the cabins. It's well marked."
Sadie sighed. "My son would've loved it."
"Unfortunately, it's closed. Can't go in until May, or you'll disturb the bats and kill them."
"Kill them?"
"If they wake up too early in the spring, they'll starve to death," the woman explained.
Sadie moved on to the next set of photos. Many were restored black and whites with curled edges, illustrating the progression of the town's development. In some of them, hardworking farmers plowed fields of barley and hay.
"Agriculture always was very important in this area," Martha continued. "It still is. Many Hinton families have been farmers for generations."
Farther down, a row of women's portraits graced the wall.
Sadie nudged her head in their direction. "Who are they?"
"All of our librarians."
"How come you aren't up there?"
"I'm just a volunteer," Martha said, looking disappointed.
Sadie patted her arm. "I'm sure you're much more than that."
She studied the portraits, admiring the artists' techniques. It was interesting to see the progression of fashion styles and facial expressions. In the earlier paintings, the women stared straight ahead, unsmiling. Halfway down, that changed.
But it was the portrait on the end that made her pause.
The woman in it looked vaguely familiar. She sat in a green plaid wingback chair, her pale blond hair swept up into a loose bun. She had a half-smile on her face, but it didn't reach her vacant blue eyes.
Martha cleared her throat. "Did you know Carissa?"
"She looks…familiar. I think I've seen her recently."
"That's not possible." Martha's response was quick, almost breathless.
"No, I'm sure I've met her. Somewhere."
"She's passed on."
"Passed on?" Sadie caught sight of the mournful expression in Martha's eyes. Dead, you idiot. Like Sam.
"Yes. Four years ago."
"Hey, you wouldn't happen to have any of my books here, would you?" Sadie asked, adroitly changing the subject.
"Of course we do," Martha replied proudly. "We have
all of them. It was Carissa who discovered you, when she went to the city the year before she died." She waddled over to a bookcase and pulled a hardcover from the shelf. "Here we go. Deadly Diamonds. It's one of my favorites."
Sadie dug in her purse for a pen. "Can I sign some of them?"
"Really? Oh my! That would be wonderful."
On the title page of Deadly Diamonds, Sadie wrote a dedication to the library and signed her name. Then she signed three more books and handed them to Martha.
"The rest have been checked out," the woman said. "Of course, we'll have to keep an eye on these, make sure no one checks them out permanently." She let out a girlish giggle and her double chin shook. "Maybe I can get you to sign one of mine sometime."
"I'll be back in two days. My laptop doesn't last much longer than that. I'll try to stop by."
"I'm here every day 'til two."
Sadie peeked at her watch. Her laptop had been charging for almost an hour. It was now past one, past lunch. She was getting hungry. Time to go home and dig into the bologna and cheese she had in the cooler.
"Well, I'd better get back to the pub." On the way out, she remembered something. "Martha, what kind of car do you drive?"
"A red Caddy," the woman replied. "Why?"
"Just curious."
Sadie smiled. Ten bucks! She'd get takeout.
At Ed's Pub, she picked up her laptop, phone and an order of fish and chips. She bought a small yellow flashlight—the only one in stock—and extra batteries at the hardware store and drove back to the cabin. Passing the sign for Cadomin Cave, she felt an impulsive urge to turn down the road, but remembered Martha's warning—the cave was closed until May.
She thought of the blond-haired librarian in the photo.
It wasn't until she was eating her lunch on the veranda that she remembered where she had seen her before. The woman had been wearing a teal jacket.
And holding Sam's hand.
22
In a daze of confusion, she struggled with the impossible idea that she had seen a dead woman.
And Sam.
"So, what—you're seeing ghosts now? I see and hear dead people. Great. Now what would Philip say to that?" At the sound of her husband's name, she recalled something. "Damn!" She'd forgotten to mail his documents.
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