Souls Estranged (The Souls Trilogy Book 2)

by Anne B. Cole

  But she wasn’t sure.

  “I don't think he wore gloves.” Gretta left the shed and sat on the cabin’s porch steps. She petted Emeye and watched the detective retrieve a small briefcase from his vehicle.

  The process of acquiring the prints took less time than she expected, and soon he was packing up his kit. Then he would leave.

  Her mind flashed to a memory of being on a ship with Lorenzo. He was going to leave, and she didn’t want him to. She would do anything to make him stay. The memory faded as Deputy Scott began walking to the cabin.

  “Is there anyone you would like to stay with tonight?”

  His question surprised Gretta since she thought she made it clear to him that she overreacted.

  When she didn’t answer right away, Deputy Scott studied at her with genuine concern, so much like Sam.

  After reading my text, I’m sure Sam hates me.

  Her fingers shook as she swiped at a tear and tucked stray hair behind her ear. She didn’t want to be alone.

  “I’m okay, really.” When she raised her eyes, she recognized the same ‘cop look’ Tim had given her the morning Sam’s fever hit.

  “Will you stay?” Warmth flooded her cheeks. She couldn’t believe her boldness, no matter how frightened she felt.

  He stood in silence as she grasped for something to say.

  “I’m sorry—I—I didn’t mean for you to stay the night. I cooked dinner, too much for one.” She studied her feet in complete embarrassment.

  His reassuring hand touched her shoulder and guided her up the porch steps. Once again, Deputy Scott opened the door for her.

  “Smells great,” he replied and closed the door behind them.

  They entered the kitchen where she lifted the crock pot lid, revealing the thick stew.

  “Let me turn this report in. I may be able to take you up on a bowl before I go to work. My shift starts at ten.”

  As he headed to his truck and typed on a laptop, she mixed up some dough for dumplings and had them simmering on top of the stew before he returned to the kitchen with a puzzled look on his face.

  “How did you call 911? I can’t get a cell signal.” He took his hat off and rubbed the rim with his thumb.

  “Sorry. I should have mentioned the only reception I get is from the porch.” Gretta stirred the stew and considered telling him about her head injury.

  Nodding, he stepped onto the porch, cell phone in hand. When he stepped back into the kitchen, she set two glasses of iced tea on the table along with bowls ready to be filled with stew and fluffy dumplings.

  “If you can’t stay, I understand.” Her voice sounded desperate, and she hated it. He reminded her of her sister’s boyfriend, Drew, and she wanted to keep this ‘big brother’ around until she felt better about being alone. She scooped stew into one bowl and reached for the other.

  “I’d be an idiot to decline.” He joined her at the table.

  They devoured the stew and talked about how Gretta met the Glenns and came to live at the cabin for the summer.

  He casually asked, “So, why didn’t you take that summer camp position?”

  She took the empty bowls to the sink to avoid answering. Distract him. Keeping her back to him, she opened the fridge and scanned its contents, then pulled out a stick of chocolate chip cookie dough.

  “Cookies?” Gretta held up the dough with a little grin. She strategically positioned her hand over the end where she had previously taken a bite.

  “I usually eat the stuff right out of the fridge,” he admitted.

  When she lifted her fingers to reveal the opened end, they both laughed.

  He checked the clock on the kitchen wall. Nine-thirty. She knew he had to go to work, but didn’t want him to leave.

  She took a knife and cut two generous slabs, offering one to him. They began eating the sticky dough with their fingers.

  Gretta felt the deputy’s stare as she licked a bit of dough from her lips. He appeared genuinely concerned.

  Care or love?

  Lorenzo had explained the difference. Her thoughts darted to the desk and the open notebook.

  Caring about someone had proved to be dangerous. She didn’t love Sam’s friend, Tony, but he was hurt because he cared about her.

  Tony helped me.

  “You need to go.” The words came out soft, nearly a whisper. She moved to the sink and washed her sticky fingers.

  Deputy Scott handed a dish towel to her but didn’t let go. Instead, he dried her shaky hands.

  “I don’t want to.”

  A whispered memory sounded inside her head, or had Deputy Scott spoken? Gretta instantly remembered Lorenzo saying those exact words to her. He had been in uniform and it was his duty to leave. Deputy Scott would be on duty tonight.

  Did I imagine the words, or does he want to stay?

  She didn’t know who took the step, closing the gap between them, but it happened, and she would have ended up wrapped into the safety net of his arms if her fingers weren’t tangled within the dish towel.

  Her head tilted to his as he leaned to her. The closeness of his face weakened her knees. The dish towel hit the floor, and his hands steadied her wrists.

  Lorenzo left and never came back because he died. She didn’t want Sam to die. I need to protect him by loving someone else.

  She closed her eyes, and their lips brushed, so lightly. The kiss evolved into one similar to the kisses she remembered experiencing as Anya with Lorenzo, and the kiss at the racetrack she had shared with Sam.

  Sam. I’m doing this to protect Sam.

  Chapter 34

  The Kitchen Light

  Gretta

  Tension gripped her and as quickly as the kiss started, they both pulled away. Her heart pounded in her chest as deep feelings for Sam tore through her.

  Reality returned, along with guilt. She loved Sam, was desperate to protect him, and the only way she could was to love someone else. She stepped back, bumping into the counter. Her bare feet became the focus of her undivided attention.

  “Sorry.” Deputy Scott leaned against the counter. “I shouldn’t have let it happen.”

  “My fault.” Gretta couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

  Lifting her chin with one hand, he took a deep breath and let it out. “How old are you?”

  “You’ll find out when you run my prints.” Gretta surprised herself with the bold remark. Again, she wondered if the crack to her head had dramatically changed her personality.

  His chiseled face broke into another sheepish grin. “If you’re a minor, I can't leave you here alone. I’d also be in a bit of an awkward situation.”

  A flirtatious comment popped into her head. Squelching her brashness, she took her own deep breath and crossed to the roll top desk. Her yellow notebook lay open. Compelled to write several new memories and feelings, instead she picked up her wallet and handed her license to Deputy Scott.

  “So, you want to get rid of me?” he raised a brow without looking at the birthdate.

  Gretta didn’t know what she wanted, but it was dangerous for him to stay. Even though she didn’t want to be alone, she suspected a friendship with him would compromise his safety.

  Sticking the license in her wallet, she shrugged. “No, I’m trying to keep you out of danger—I mean, trouble.” The weak smile she offered seemed to work.

  Deputy Scott returned a serious nod and picked up the cabin cell phone. “If it’s all right, I’d like to give you my number, in case—”

  “If I remember anything more about the creep, I’ll call you,” Gretta interrupted as he punched his number into the phone. His protectiveness heightened her nervousness. She longed to give him the cabin’s cell phone number but didn’t want to look like an idiot sinc
e she didn't know it.

  At the door, he handed her the phone. “Text me, anytime. I’m off at six tomorrow morning. If you—”

  “I’ll be fine. Thanks. You better go.” Please go before I beg you to stay.

  “Lock the door and set the alarm. I’ll check the grounds before I leave. My jurisdiction includes this mountain and the valley west to the border. I’ll never be more than ten miles away tonight. Don’t hesitate to call.”

  Gretta didn’t know if he insisted out of concern for her safety or because of their cookie dough kiss.

  He traced the rim of his ball cap and walked out the door. She followed. He spun around as her bare feet touched the walk.

  “Get in and lock the door. This one, too.” He pointed to the porch screen door. The stern inflection in his voice caused her to back up to the first step.

  At eye level with him, she found herself both intrigued and fearful of his concern.

  “I’m sorry—”

  “Don’t apologize.” Deputy Scott raised his hand. “Now get back in and lock the doors. Good night, Gretta.” He swiftly walked away.

  “Good night.” Gretta realized she didn’t know his first name as she watched him disappear around the cabin. She locked the porch door and scanned the darkness from the wicker rocker. He returned to his truck and waved before backing out of the drive. Within seconds, his taillights disappeared from view.

  Gretta ran into the cabin and grabbed a pen and her notebook. Returning to the porch, she began jotting memories. After writing the word ‘duty,’ the cell phone rang. She expected him to call but, not this quick.

  It was the first time she heard the cabin phone’s ringtone, some annoying old-fashioned telephone jangle. She made a mental note to change it as soon as possible. Picking it up, she saw the name ‘Ryan Scott’ on the screen. She touched the answer button.

  “Before you say anything, Ryan, I don’t recall giving you my number.”

  “Guilty as charged. Dispatch provided it when I responded to the 911 call. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.” Gretta touched her lips where he had kissed her.

  “Did you set the alarm?”

  Ryan’s tone reminded her of Tim and Sam. Guilt and nervousness filled her.

  “Not yet.” She had to end this incipient friendship before something happened to Ryan, too.

  “May I ask why?” He sounded a bit irritated.

  “You wouldn’t be talking to me if I did.”

  After a quick pause, he figured it out. “Damn signal. Get back in the house, lock up and set the alarm. I’ll think of something.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Leave the kitchen light on. If you hear anything out of the ordinary, turn it off, get as close to the porch as possible, and call me.” His voice held an edge, sending icy shivers down her back. “I’ll drive by a few times during my shift.”

  “It’s a private road. The gate is locked.” Gretta wondered how he had opened the gate to get in.

  “Police have an override code. I’ll notify the owner to change the code tomorrow.”

  “I’m sure I overreacted. The guy may have been a member of the church who forgot something a few weeks ago during their spring landscaping cleanup. I’ll call the church office in the morning. Thanks for your trouble.” As much as she’d have liked to keep him on the phone, she wouldn’t.

  “Just to be safe, get yourself locked in and leave the light on. Take care.”

  “You too.” Gretta ended the call.

  Despite being nearly ten o’clock, she felt wired. Grabbing her notebook, she rechecked the porch screen door, locked the cabin door, and punched the code into the alarm. With the kitchen light on, she took a seat at the table and began a new page in her notebook titled ‘Ryan.’

  Her heart raced after flipping through her notes on Tony and Sam. More memories began to fill the pages, confirming the danger she imposed on people.

  Gretta grabbed the phone and composed a text she would later send. ‘Ryan. I’m eighteen, too young for you. I was scared and acted like a fool. I’m fine now. Sorry.’

  Satisfied with the note, she went upstairs to the loft bedroom. The window facing the driveway remained open, letting a cool breeze in. Not sure if she shivered from the air or from fright, she closed the window and secured the lock. Phone still in hand, she noticed she had cell reception. With the Glenns’ master bedroom located on the main level, they probably never tried to use a cell phone from the loft.

  Gretta collapsed on her bed and added to the text to Ryan. ‘I have cell reception in the upstairs bedroom. Will keep the phone with me at night. Thank you for being there for me.’ She pressed the send button and sat on the edge of her bed, hoping he would be safe.

  Killer

  The cell phone in the pocket of the man’s red flannel shirt vibrated. He smiled, knowing who sent it without looking.

  Chapter 35

  News

  Gretta

  The combination of sweat, warm sunshine, and a crisp breeze tingled Gretta’s skin. After a week of daily runs up the mountain, she’d become physically stronger. The stranger had not returned and, with each passing day, she grew more at ease with her solitude.

  “Time to email Mom,” she said out loud, convincing herself it was the right thing to do. Gretta ground her sneakers into the dirt road. Physical exhaustion decreased her anxieties and enabled her a few moments of peace.

  Being alone gave her time to think. She remembered falling in love with Lorenzo as Anya. Their wedding and the night they spent together on the island were the two sole memories etched clearly into her mind. Any other memories remained blurry and confusing.

  Gazing at her ringed finger, an icy chill ran up her neck. The garnet her grandmother gave her had been cursed and brought her bad luck. She couldn't remember why, but she knew she should never take it off.

  More memories had come to her in nightmares too difficult to shake. In the worst one, she remembered being terrified in a frigid darkness. Unease lingered for hours and brought her to the assumption the curse on her ring would send her back to the evil gloom. Despite logical reasoning, she blamed the recent tragic events on the ring.

  “I can’t go home.” With every thud of her sneakers, the words reverberated in her head.

  A strong gust of wind whipped her face. A storm brewed to the west. “Can’t do yard work in the rain. It’s a good day to drive to town and email the Glenns and Mom.” She made sure to keep contact to a minimum in order to ensure their safety. “No one else will suffer or die because of me.”

  By the time she arrived back at the cabin, she had memorized each word she would write to her mom. She ran up the drive and into the cabin as rain drops speckled the porch steps.

  She showered and packed her tote bag, tossing in her yellow composition notebook, the cabin phone, and a few pencils. The Glenns had told her Greenview’s library was open twice a week. The next town to the east sported a bigger library, open every day with a computer room.

  Rain pelted her windshield as she drove along the winding mountain road. She punched the code into the box by the gate. It slowly opened and allowed her to turn onto the main road. Ryan had texted her a few days prior to let her know he added the cabin to their crime watch program. A deputy would stop by once a day to check on the house throughout the summer. So far, two other deputies visited. Not Ryan.

  Feeling considerably safer at the cabin, Gretta became obsessed with finding out as much as she could about her memories. For as much as she required the internet, she sorely regretted throwing her cell phone over the cliff.

  Twenty minutes later she entered Sommerville which was twice the size of Greenview. She pulled into the library’s gravel lot at the second intersection. A white van, like the one she saw last week
, pulled in behind her and parked two rows over.

  Gretta waited a minute, afraid to get out of her car. She felt silly being frightened in broad daylight.

  “There must be hundreds of white vans in this state. There’s no reason to be scared.” Saying it out loud didn’t ease her anxiety.

  Before she allowed time for the person to exit the van, she put the car in reverse and pulled out of the lot. She caught the first letter and two digits of the van’s license plate. Spotting a coffee shop, she parked and waited to see if the van would follow.

  She rechecked the locks on her doors, rummaged through her tote bag, and clutched the cell phone. If the van followed her, she’d call Deputy Ryan.

  Ten minutes later, no white vans had passed the coffee shop. Feeling like a fool, Gretta went through the drive through and ordered a hot green tea to calm her nerves. She drove around town for a few minutes before returning to the library parking lot.

  “Quit acting like a paranoid idiot.” Reprimanding herself confirmed her craziness. She took a deep breath, locked her car, and strolled inside the building.

  A friendly librarian helped her fill out paperwork for a library card. After selecting a few mysteries, Gretta entered a small computer room and logged on.

  Among a pile of junk email, she received two messages from Bobby, one from Emily, one from her mother, and thirteen from Sam. Without opening any, she deleted her inbox and began composing an email to her mother.

  Her heart pounded.

  If anything happens to Mom I’m going to become a cloistered nun. Here goes.