Souls Estranged (The Souls Trilogy Book 2)

by Anne B. Cole

  Reverend Glenn had mentioned he had a black instead of green thumb. Volunteers tended the grounds one weekend in the spring and again in the fall. Landscapers had planted maintenance free flower beds containing hosta, ferns, and other shade loving perennials. The single section of land in full sun contained Mrs. Glenn’s rose garden.

  The cat scampered to the back corner of the shed and jumped on a black trunk. Padlocked, it appeared very old.

  “What did you find, Emeye?” Walking to the trunk, Gretta thought of the television show in which people bought the contents of storage units full of junk. “Well, one person’s junk is another’s treasure, I suppose.”

  Something clicked in her mind. Her eyes darted to the ring on her finger.

  “My grandmother’s ring was part of a treasure.”

  The cat mewed, abruptly dissolving her thoughts.

  Gretta noticed a blue tarp bunched on the floor. The trunk didn’t appear as dusty as the rest of the items in the shed. A red scrap of fabric caught her eye. It stuck out from the back side of the lid. She tugged on the fabric, but it appeared to be a part of a garment within the locked trunk. She touched the padlock, wondering what contents it kept safe.

  Sounds of tires crunching gravel filled the air.

  “Someone’s driving up the mountain, Emeye.” This would be the first vehicle she had seen, since all the neighbors lived down the mountain from the cabin. Mrs. Glenn had mentioned a maintenance van drove by once a week to check on the cell tower located at the summit. An iron gate, at the bottom of the mountain, allowed no access for the general public.

  Gretta stood outside and watched a white van pass the driveway and continue up the dirt road. “Must be the cell tower crew.”

  Closing up the shed, she headed to the cabin with the cat in tow. The aroma of flowers hung in the air and drew her attention to the rose garden. She picked a single yellow, half-opened bud. In the kitchen, she filled a glass with water for the flower and brought it out to the porch. Its lovely scent filled the air.

  “Beautiful.”

  A memory popped into her head. Sam described the yellow roses she had received in the hospital with the same word.

  Beautiful.

  Setting the flower down, she picked up her notebook and sank into a cushioned chair.

  “Treasure.” Her pen scratched as she stated the word aloud. “Ring.”

  The cat jumped onto her lap and curled into a little ball, ready for a nap.

  Buzz.

  The vibrating cell phone startled both her and the cat. She grabbed it off the table.

  “Sam, please stop texting me.” She ached to open it, but didn’t want to risk endangering him. “Dad and Grandma died. You and Tony could have died.”

  Despite her words, she opened the text.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  Gretta closed the text without responding. “I’m fine. You’re the one in danger.” Frustrated, she shoved sock-covered feet into her sneakers, tied up her hair, grabbed her cell phone, and ran the mile of dirt road to the top of the mountain. Peering over the lookout point, she began a final text to Sam.

  Stating the words out loud, she forced her thumbs on the keys.

  “‘I met and love someone else. Someone who didn’t help me kill my father.’”

  Tears slid over her cheeks as she pressed ‘send.’ When the words ‘message sent’ appeared on the screen, she heaved her phone as far as she could.

  It sailed over the cliff and disappeared into the green treetops.

  “You can’t contact me anymore, Sam.” Her words hitched on another thought. “After you read the text, you won’t want to.”

  Gretta sank to her knees. Her heart pounded inside her head. She knew Sam blamed himself for her father’s death. With the text, she not only pushed Sam aside, but hurt him in the cruelest way. He had done nothing to deserve this. He even promised he would never leave her. Again.

  The memory of his pledge came to her.

  “Sam left me during our time together under the tree.”

  She couldn’t remember why or what happened, but she knew he regretted it and afterward swore he would never abandon her.

  A sudden feeling of isolation crept over her. Without her phone, friends and family couldn’t make contact. Worried, Gretta’s thoughts raced to her mother. She’d have to email her mom from the town’s library computer. She’d say she lost her cell phone and would keep in touch through email for the remainder of the summer.

  “A few emails should be safe.” With a final gaze to the countryside, hundreds of feet beneath her, she left and began jogging down the road at a comfortable pace. Before the bend prior to the cabin’s driveway, Emeye ran out from the woods and began rubbing her leg.

  “Hey, Emeye.”

  The little cat kept stepping in front of her feet when she tried to move forward.

  “Watch out. You don’t want to be squished by a stinky sneaker.” Even though she knew the cat didn’t like being held, she scooped Emeye into her arms.

  The cat squirmed free and ran in the opposite direction of the cabin. It suddenly stopped and looked back at her, as if it wanted her to follow.

  “What’s the matter, Emeye? You usually follow me.” She walked over to her, picked her up, and headed back to the cabin.

  The cat growled and tensed in her arms. She noted the fur on its back had raised, and its little ringed tail puffed to twice its normal size.

  Gretta froze as she spotted a strange man in a red flannel shirt, standing at the cabin’s porch door.

  Chapter 31

  The Cemetery

  Sam

  Flipping through texts on his phone, Sam read and reread Gretta’s message at least a hundred times, trying to decipher the meaning from each word.

  Jealousy enraged him.

  Clenching his fingers around the phone, he thought back to his time in Purgatory-In-Tartarus with Gretta. Her ancestor, Minnie, had forewarned him, ‘Don’t let emotions rule your actions.’ He must remain calm and force himself to think straight.

  Alone in his house, he paced the living room.

  It usually helped to ponder aloud, so he muttered, “Gretta remembers enough to think she’s endangering people around her. Did she push me away because she cares?” He looked at the text again. “If she truly is in love with someone else, the guy is in danger from the bad luck curse.”

  The sudden thought made him smile. “No, if Gretta remembers the curses she wouldn’t chance endangering anyone. She probably isolated herself. But if she does love someone else, I’ll have to do something about it. No one will come between us. No one.” Realizing he was shouting, Sam abruptly sat on the couch.

  He scanned the room for the cat. Pop had mentioned he hadn’t seen it for days. Roxana’s spirit must have left the cat to work on the curses while he recovered in the hospital.

  Where are you, Gretta?

  He stared at the text.

  Did I fall in love with you because of the curse? Did someone else fall in love with you because of the ring? Who do you love? What do you remember?

  He reopened her last text and typed another reply. ‘I will never stop loving you.’

  Frustration mounted when his declaration remained unanswered. An hour later, he checked the internet for more information on traumatic brain injury. The possibility of Gretta being alone and suffering from side effects of a severe concussion terrified him.

  The thought of another man touching her brought him to his feet and he resumed pacing.

  “I have to find Gretta and somehow convince her she won’t endanger me. We could work together with Roxana and Katarina to break the curses. Damn it! I should have told her everything.” He slammed his phone on the table.

  Pain shot through his arm and into
his chest. Wincing, he began the exercises the physical therapist showed him before his release. His range of motion remained extremely limited, yet he pushed through the pain.

  “Where the hell are you?” He collapsed on the couch and attempted to think it through.

  No one knew the name of the camp she supposedly arrived at last weekend. He couldn’t comprehend that her family trusted her so much, they didn’t question her whereabouts. Over the past week, he’d yearned to be with her every second of the day.

  “Ring or no ring. Curse or no curse. I love you, Gretta and I will find you.”

  The previous night he researched the legal aspect of missing persons and confirmed they could not involve law enforcement unless Gretta’s mother started the process. Yesterday, Claire Dobbs buried her mother. The last thing she needed was to be worried about her daughter.

  Sam scrolled to a string of texts Drew had sent on Monday.

  ‘Gretta called her mother and learned about her grandmother’ death.’

  ‘Where is she?’

  ‘Claire said Gretta’s living at a camp in a remote area with little to no cell service.’

  Sam scrolled to Gretta’s last text to him. His blood boiled. The text she sent yesterday proved she had cell service.

  The clock on the wall ticked.

  Might as well talk to himself. “Ruby will stop by around three with dinner,” he recited aloud. “Pop’s shift ends a little after two.” Sam resumed pacing.

  The clock continued to pass time.

  An hour later Sam picked up the television remote and flipped through the channels.

  Nothing.

  Watching the ceiling fan held his interest, but not long enough.

  Tossing the remote on the table, he grabbed the keys to the ’72 Olds. Ruby had loaned him her car for the summer since he could drive it legally without wearing a seat belt. The incision on his shoulder held no infection, but remained tender to the touch. He’d quit taking painkillers two days earlier and was cleared to drive.

  Sitting behind the wheel of the classic car, Sam let his mind wander. “Where are you, Katarina? I need your help.”

  Then an idea formed as he cruised around.

  Stopping at the grocery store, Sam bought a bouquet of flowers. Next, he drove to the Farmington Cemetery. On Ruby’s orders to rest, he hadn’t attended Gretta’s grandmother’s funeral but had instead sent condolences with Ruby, who attended and confirmed Gretta’s absence.

  Sam parked on the street and wandered through the older section of the cemetery. Near the edge of the woods he saw a mound of fresh dug dirt covered with flowers. The gravesite drew him. Within seconds, he stood in front of a gray headstone and read the names.

  Peters, George and Lucy.

  Gretta’s grandfather had passed away several years earlier, according to the inscription. Her grandmother’s death date remained blank.

  A sudden dread filled him when he remembered Lucy Peters had owned Gretta’s ring and presumably had worn it in her lifetime. Being cursed by wearing the ring, Lucy would have entered Purgatory-in-Tartarus upon her death.

  Sam sank to his knees. “Mrs. Peters, I will do everything I can to break the curse. I’m sorry I didn’t help more.”

  “It’s not your fault she’s dead.”

  Sam spun around.

  Claire Dobbs stood before him in an oversized t-shirt and gym shorts. The clothing looked more like her husband’s than her own. Behind frizzy hair, her glassy eyes fixed on her mother’s grave.

  “Mrs. Dobbs. I’m so sorry.” Sam got to his feet, prepared to steady her if necessary.

  “They’re gone. Both of them and there is nothing you can do about it.” Claire knelt on her mother’s grave. She dug up a handful of soil, squeezing it into a tight ball. Her fist suddenly relaxed, allowing her fingers to rub over the dirt. With a distant expression she stared at the soil as it crumbled and fell to the ground, until only a smear remained on her palm.

  “Gone.” Claire stood and shuffled to her husband’s grave four rows away.

  Sam followed as she dropped to her knees into the remains of withered flowers.

  “The marker will be a granite bench. I can’t find the strength to stand here,” Claire murmured. She slowly traced her fingers along a single white, dead rose. Gazing at it, she sank back on her heels.

  “Gretta left because she blames herself. You should have stopped her, Sam.” Claire’s face creased in pain. “She’s alone.” She suddenly flung the rose at him, stood, and kicked the other dead flowers on her husband’s grave with a slipper-covered foot.

  Sam gaped. Had Claire walked all the way to the cemetery? He could smell wine on her breath. Hadn’t she been taking sedatives?

  “How do I convince her it’s not her fault? I asked you to go to Richmond. It’s my fault you’re dead.” Claire threw herself upon her husband’s grave and grabbed fistfuls of dirt. “Help me. Damn it.”

  Unsure if Claire was talking to him or her dead husband, Sam stumbled backward as she dug her hands furiously into the ground, then abruptly held them up and regarded the dirt between her fingers.

  Her words came out on a moan. “I cannot sit here and do nothing.”

  “I’ll help,” Sam whispered, kneeling beside her. He didn’t know how digging up her husband would help, but he was willing to try anything.

  Claire resumed plowing through the dirt on her hands and knees. Together they removed the mounded soil, leaving the grave flush with the surrounding grass.

  With a frustrated sigh, she stopped and stared at the ground. “I can’t do this, not without you. Why did you leave me?”

  Sam took Claire by the arm, but she ripped free, screaming at him, “Leave me alone! You abandoned Gretta!” Claire plunged her fingers back into the soil.

  Stunned, Sam texted his father and Ruby. ‘Come to the cemetery. Hurry.’

  Claire continued pummeling her husband’s grave.

  “Gretta left for camp when I was unconscious.” Sam tried to sound reassuring even though tears flowed over his own cheeks. “Believe me, I’d never abandon her.” The words echoed in his ears.

  But I did. I left her in Milos when we time traveled.

  “Tell me which camp. Where is she? I’ll take you to her, right now.” His voice grew forceful.

  Claire froze, with dirt splattered across her cheek. “I don’t know.” She stared into the distance. “Three. There will be a third death.” She clutched her temples and began to scream. “She doesn’t know! She’s trying to do the right thing. It’s all wrong!” Claire grabbed Sam by the shoulders. “There’s good in her. You have to believe me.” She began beating him with her fists.

  One hit his mending bones, crippling him with pain. He fell to the ground, clutching his shoulder.

  Claire knelt beside him and squeezed his hand. “He’s gone, Sam. You have to understand it’s not her fault.”

  Her hold lessened and she broke into sobs. “I’m sorry.”

  Chapter 32

  The Third Death

  Sam

  “Be strong.” Sam heard his mother’s voice inside his head. “You need to support your father.”

  Sam didn’t know how long he’d sat in the cemetery covered in dirt with Claire. But he pushed matted hair out of her face and whispered, “Everything will be all right.” A ringing sounded in his ears, warning him of imminent danger.

  “Sam?” Ruby’s voice boomed.

  “Claire’s been drinking.” Sam wiped dirty tears from his face onto his shirt sleeve.

  “Can you help me get her to my car? We’ll take her to my house.” Ruby nudged his arm when he remained gazing at Claire.

  A police cruiser barreled into the cemetery with its lights flashing. Pop ran to them. “Sam, what’s going on?
My God, what happened here?”

  “She’ll be fine once I get her clean. Give me the keys to the Olds, Sam. You drive the Escort. Tim, take Claire and put her in your car.”

  Stunned, the two men stared at the short, bossy woman.

  She fisted hands on her ample hips. “My husband will roll over in his grave if I let you in the Olds covered in mud. Let’s go.”

  Pop helped Claire to the cruiser as Sam fished the Olds keys out of his pocket and handed them to Ruby.

  She nodded brusquely. “My keys are in the ignition.”

  Sam drove behind Ruby. Pop brought up the rear with Claire in the back seat. They parked on the street in front of a small white cape cod with flowers gracing both sides of the sidewalk leading to the front door.

  Claire seemed to have come to her senses and despite her protests, Pop escorted her to the house. Ruby unlocked the door, leading the way through the tiny kitchen to the living room where Pop ushered Claire to the couch.

  Ruby carried a bowl of water and dish towels to her side. “Claire, When was the last time you had any medicine?”

  Claire frowned. “Medicine won’t help. He’s dead.” In a concerned voice she continued, “It’ll be on the news.”

  “I called Emily and told her you’re staying with me tonight.” Ruby rolled up her sleeves and soaked a towel in the water.

  Sam noted the way Claire stared at Pop. Her face paled, and her eyes filled with tears.

  “I’m sorry, Tim. She didn’t mean to hurt him. She loved him. I know she did. She’s gone, too,” Claire sobbed.