Souls Estranged (The Souls Trilogy Book 2)

by Anne B. Cole

  “Hey, can you take a look at this estimate for me?” Sam tapped the computer.

  Tony tossed his clipboard on the desk and glanced at the screen. “I signed the contract for Hank yesterday.” He pulled a bottled water out of the mini-fridge.

  Limited movement in three of Tony’s fingers on his right hand didn’t hold him back. He had told Sam he hoped to be cleared by his doctor to operate heavy equipment in two weeks. Sam wouldn’t be cleared for physical labor for another four weeks.

  “The numbers don’t add up. Are the estimates correct?” Sam pointed to the screen.

  “Yep.” Tony sat in a chair across from Sam and put his boots on the desk.

  Sam frowned. “Your bid won’t even cover materials.”

  “Yep.” A smile curled on Tony’s rugged face.

  “Hank know about this?” It came out like an accusation, even though Sam didn’t believe Tony would jeopardize Hank’s business.

  “A little edgy today?” Tony chugged half of the water bottle before meeting Sam’s gaze. “An anonymous donor wrote a check for the rest. Hank’s making a nice profit.” When Sam remained silent he added, “Bonnie’s parents.”

  “Bonnie’s parents?” Sam repeated.

  “Twentieth anniversary of their son’s death. Fell from the monkey bars in second grade. A week later, he died from a blood clot lodged in his brain.”

  “Didn’t know,” Sam whispered.

  “Bonnie doesn’t talk about it much. I think she was five when it happened. When she mentioned to her parents I was bidding on the contract for the playground, her dad met with school officials. He told me to make safety a priority, no matter what the cost.” Tony paused. “You good?”

  “Yeah.” A pang of guilt surged through Sam’s chest. The pain of losing his own brother, Justin, remained fresh. Initially, he blamed the curse on Gretta’s ring for Justin’s death. Being angry made it easier to get through the weeks. Without contact with her all summer, he had started to believe she didn’t love him. Tony’s words planted a new seed in his endless thoughts about her.

  What if Gretta developed a blood clot from her concussion?

  “You hear from Purple Shorts?”

  Sam’s jaw dropped. He took a deep breath to contain his shock at Tony’s question. Katarina had told him he had a gift of being able to know things before they happened. He wondered if Tony had a similar ability.

  The phone in his pocket vibrated.

  Sam grabbed it. Every time a text or call came in, his heart raced with hope.

  “Ruby,” Sam muttered. He opened the text and read out loud, “‘Will bring dinner after work.’” His thumbs typed and sent his thanks, despite his disappointment.

  Tony’s steely gaze met Sam’s as the phone clattered on the desk. “It’s about time we start looking for her. Can’t do much around here this weekend.”

  Sam avoided his stare. “I don’t think she’s interested in me.”

  “She’s interested,” Tony affirmed.

  “It’s been over eight weeks,” Sam said, more to himself than to Tony.

  “Don’t let a girl like Gretta slip away.” Tony focused on squeezing his right hand open and closed, guiding his last three fingers in place with his left hand.

  Sam had noticed the mobility of Tony’s fingers improved every day. “You’re starting to sound like your fiancée,” he teased.

  A sly grin crept over Tony’s face. “She kicked my butt a few times this summer to get me motivated. Time for me to kick yours. Make out a list of possible camps Purple Shorts may be at. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow.”

  “I don’t want to take you away from wedding plans.” Sam attempted to hide his eagerness.

  “Bonnie’s mom and sisters are doing all the planning. If it gets any crazier, we may elope. Let’s go home. Hank can’t afford to pay you overtime.”

  Sam agreed, even though he was already thinking of an excuse to keep Tony away from Gretta. He needed to protect his friend from potential danger.

  He dropped Tony off and drove the last few miles in deep thought. When he approached the house, he saw Gretta’s mother’s car in his driveway. His heart leapt into his throat as he parked the truck on the street and bolted across the sidewalk.

  He flung the front door open. As it crashed against the wall, he scanned over the sheet covered furniture in the living room.

  No Gretta.

  Sample colors of several shades of green were taped on the wall. Claire and Pop stood alone, gaping at his dramatic entrance.

  “Sorry, I thought—” Sam sighed. Disappointment drained away. Hurt poured in. Justin’s favorite color had been green.

  “Which one do you like, Sam?” Claire asked.

  Her sweet voice irritated him.

  She should be worried about Gretta!

  “What would Gretta choose?” he asked without thinking.

  Claire smiled at Pop, who grinned right back.

  Paint colors? Gretta’s been gone all summer and no one knows where she is. No one even cares. Isn’t anyone concerned?

  “Great idea. She has such a good sense of color. I’ll send her a picture of the samples.” After a few clicks on her phone, she smiled. “Here’s an email she sent yesterday. She has two weeks left at camp and will be coming home for three days before going to college at the University of West Virginia.”

  “I had plans to paint this room tomorrow, but we could wait until the weekend Gretta comes home,” Pop put in.

  Sam wanted to tear the phone out of Claire’s hands and scream at the top of his lungs that Gretta could be in terrible danger. He had no way of proving it, and no one would believe him. He clenched his fists and sank into the sheet covered couch, wondering what kind of excuse Gretta would come up with to avoid coming home for those three days.

  Except for Justin’s death, no tragedy had struck either family since her sudden departure. Sam had considered emailing her again, but fear of endangering Pop or Ruby prevented him.

  “Did you talk to the people at NYU about transferring credits to other colleges? West Virginia may accept what you’ve completed,” Pop said.

  Sam had spent two weeks in New York City, preparing and renting out Justin’s apartment to a young couple. He had hired a management company to take care of rent collection and issues. Being back in the apartment where he grew up reminded him of happier times.

  Before his brother’s death.

  Before his mother’s cancer.

  Before Gretta.

  “I’ll get it sorted out when I’m ready to go back,” Sam grumbled and left Pop and Claire to their color options. He bounded up the stairs and dropped on his bed, exhausted.

  Images of a boy holding three rings filled his dreams. The smile on the boy’s face spread wide. It quickly dropped into one of horror. He fled as fast as his bare feet could carry him.

  Sam remembered meeting the same boy when his spirit was entwined within Lorenzo.

  “Bad boy,” a distant voice purred in Sam’s ear. The beautiful woman of his dreams waltzed up to him and laced a silky hand through his hair.

  “I didn’t mean to scare the child.” Sam dropped to her feet in forgiveness.

  “Not you. The boy.” Her hand twisted sharply, lifting his head to her face. “Konstantino stole my rings.” She glared in the direction the boy had run.

  Sam staggered to his feet, wanting to help her even though he knew the boy was innocent.

  “The girl has one of them. You will find her and return to me my ring,” she demanded.

  “No, it’s cursed. You can’t wear it,” Sam blurted, not wanting any harm to come to this woman.

  “Fool. Find my ring.” Fury in her eyes blazed for a second before melting to a cool forest green. With a toss of strawbe
rry-blonde locks over pearly smooth shoulders, she pulled a golden apple from within the folds of her flowing white gown. Cradling it with delicate fingers, she left him.

  “Come back. Please, I need to talk to you,” he called to the woman. An eerie, haunting laughter filled his head.

  Sam sat up and scanned his bedroom room for the beautiful woman.

  Gone.

  The clock beside his bed read seven-thirty.

  How could I have slept for over two hours?

  His heart continued to race as he raked a sweaty palm through his hair. The dream had seemed so real. The images of the woman and the boy repeated over and over in his mind. He swung his feet to the floor and stumbled into the bathroom where Ruby stood, adjusting clean towels on the rack.

  She bustled into the hall. “Did you get some rest? You’ll need it.”

  Sam frowned, still mesmerized by the dream. It felt as if he had just run five miles instead of taking a two-hour nap.

  Ruby poked her head back into the bathroom. “I’ll smooth things over with your father so he won’t worry.” She anchored a laundry basket against her hip and sailed to the steps, far faster than usual.

  Sam followed, pondering the meaning of her words. He entered the kitchen and noticed Ruby held her purse, ready to leave.

  “I can’t stay, and neither can you. Here.” She shoved a note into his hand.

  “Ruby, slow down. I’ll make you a cup of tea.” He pulled a chair out for her, but she ignored him.

  “I’m fine, child. Read the instructions and stay safe.” Ruby pulled his head to her level, kissed his cheek, and hurried out the door.

  Sam stood in shock with the note she had crammed in his hand. He saw a bag of tater tots on the counter beside a crock pot and a sack of hard rolls. Setting the note down, he lifted the lid. The smoky, spicy scent of barbeque pork filled the air.

  He replaced the cover and picked up the bag of frozen potatoes. It chilled his fingers, reminding him of how cold Gretta’s hands and feet always were. The possibility of another person keeping her warm burned into his mind.

  He opened the freezer, threw in the bag of potatoes, and slammed the door. Ruby’s note blew off the counter.

  Bending to pick it up, he noticed she had written more than the standard three lines. Her notes normally bulleted the type of food, the temperature to set the oven, and how long it would take to cook.

  This note had been written in handwriting with longer curves and at a steeper slant than Ruby’s normal scrawl. Sam stepped closer to the light and studied the note.

  Sam,

  Potatoes in oven for twenty minutes. Meat in the crock pot. Safe now, not for long. Find what you are looking for in the cupboard. Must go.

  R.

  “This note doesn’t make any sense. She wouldn’t fix food not safe to eat,” he muttered.

  A soft hum sounded and grew to a loud ringing in his ears.

  Danger. Someone is in danger.

  He scanned the note a second time. According to the inscription at the bottom, the notepad Ruby used came from a hospital in Richmond, Virginia. Ruby had drawn a single line through ‘Richmond’ and wrote ‘Greenview’ underneath.

  “Why did she circle ‘Greenview’ and ‘Virginia?’” Sam mused. And the ‘R’ she signed appeared more like a capital ‘K.’

  Katarina!

  Sam’s mind flew back to when he was entwined within Lorenzo. Anya’s mother, Tatiana, who happened to be a well-known medium, had given him a reading and said, ‘Virginia, mountains, green view.’ He studied the note. Katarina had underlined, ‘Find what you are looking for in,’ and circled, ‘Greenview’ and ‘Virginia.’

  Sam also remembered Katarina declared Tatiana’s reading was intended for him, not Lorenzo.

  “Gretta’s in Greenview, Virginia. Where the hell is Greenview, Virginia?”

  His focus returned to the note. “Safe now, not for long.”

  “She’s in danger.” Sam grabbed his phone and searched the internet. He found the small town in southwest Virginia. He estimated it to be a five hour drive.

  Taking two steps at a time, he raced to the spare bedroom and grabbed a duffle bag he had brought back from New York. It held his brother’s personal items from his police locker at the station. Sam opened it and dumped the contents on the floor before running into his own bedroom.

  Tossing in a change of clothes, he headed back through the hall. The ringing in his ears returned. He stopped outside of the spare bedroom and Justin’s badge and gun came into view. He swallowed hard, picked them up, and headed downstairs.

  Without a second thought, Sam jumped in his truck, spun the tires, and drove west.

  Chapter 43

  Followed

  Gretta

  “Done.”

  Gretta clicked the ‘save’ icon, proud of the work she had completed. All of her memories were recorded on her laptop in documents, categorized on spreadsheets, and saved under the file name, ‘Maledicta.’

  A purple thumb drive backed everything up. Several times over the past eight weeks she had wanted to upload the files on the library computer and email them to Sam. She needed someone to confide in, to tell her what she had written was either true or an insane dream incurred by her head injury.

  “You think I’m crazy, Emeye?”

  The little cat’s ears pricked forward. Emeye stood, stretched her legs one by one before leaping on the couch beside her. A pink nose nudged her hands away from the laptop.

  She petted Emeye’s soft white and gray fur, scratching under her chin and behind her ears. Cat hair flew into the air and fell to the keyboard. She swiped it off with her sleeve.

  “Everything makes sense, if you believe in ghosts, time travel, and curses. Don’t look at me like I’m certifiable. Sam texted me saying he remembered things too,” Gretta informed the cat.

  Just saying his name out loud hurt. If what she documented actually happened, Sam’s brother died because of her.

  Emeye rubbed against her hand and snuggled beside her leg. Something tugged at the back of Gretta’s mind. She couldn’t put her finger on it. She knew there was more to remember. Clicking on an alphabetical bullet list of the memories, she scrolled through the entries.

  “I know it doesn’t make any sense, Emeye. I honestly think Sam and I traveled to the past to find out why my ring is cursed.” Gretta rubbed the cat’s tummy, converting the purr into a roar.

  Without warning, Emeye bolted upright, jumped to the floor, and faced the kitchen. Her back fur stood on end, and her ringed tail bristled.

  Gretta’s heart pounded within her chest as she strained to hear what scared the little cat.

  Nothing.

  Emeye growled, sending shivers up Gretta’s spine.

  “What is it, Emeye? Do you see a mouse?” She shook the creepy feeling away and scooped the cat into her arms. “It’s okay, girl.” She stroked spiked fur into place. Emeye wriggled out of her arms and ran to the kitchen. Gretta followed and found her sitting in front of the pantry door.

  Gretta peered out the window. Two cardinals chirped at each other on the white fence, soaking in the morning sun. “You want to go get the birds?” She bent to pick up the cat, but it sidestepped out of reach, and began pawing the pantry door. “Must be a mouse.” She opened the pantry door and returned to the couch and laptop. “Crap, I’m supposed to email the Glenns and Mom.”

  Emeye trotted into the room and jumped across her computer. “Some hunter you are. I promised Ryan I wouldn’t leave the cabin, but I have to go to the library to send a couple emails.” She picked up the thumb drive. “Maybe I’ll email this information to Sam.” The clock chimed on the half hour.

  One-thirty.

  “Ryan said he had to work tonight’s shift so he’s
probably sleeping. I’ll call his mom to let her know where I’m going.” Gretta punched the number and reached voice mail. She left a message of her plans to go to the library and would be back inside the cabin in less than two hours.

  Tossing the phone to the coffee table, Gretta took note of how Emeye stared at her. “I called and left a message. It’s daylight. I’ll be perfectly fine.”

  Emeye didn’t blink.

  “Besides, I need to pick up a bathing suit for the trip.”

  The stare-down continued.

  “Go catch a mouse. I’ll be right back.” Gretta grabbed the phone and thumb drive, set the alarm, locked the cabin, and drove away.

  Driving through Greenview, Gretta’s heart jumped into her throat at the sight of a blue pick-up truck, parked on the street. “It can’t be Sam’s. There’re probably a dozen blue trucks like his.” Making a U-turn, she passed the empty truck a second time. The town’s small population could easily be matched by the number of trucks parked along Main Street.

  “I don’t know his license number, maybe Ryan can help,” she muttered, memorizing the Virginia plate. “Stop thinking about him and stop talking to yourself.”

  She drove past the truck a third time before heading to the library.

  After sending her two obligatory emails, Gretta opened and read through a new student orientation email from West Virginia State University. She inserted the thumb drive and began to compose an email to Sam.

  An icy shiver ran through her. “No. I can’t chance endangering him.” She signed off, removed the thumb drive, and left the library. She unlocked her car and checked her watch. “One forty-five. Plenty of time to buy a suit.”