Death Lies Between Us (An Angel Falls Book 1)

by Jody A. Kessler

  “I won’t get caught, unless you can’t keep your mouth shut. I’m not an idiot, Jules.”

  “Really?” In the moment I’m doubtful. I close my eyes against the sight of him and try to gain control over myself so I won’t scream at him. “Your ex-girlfriend died last night from doing meth. Do you even care?”

  I see a flash of hurt cross his cold features but he covers it up almost instantly. He hisses at me through clenched teeth. “You don’t know anything.”

  He left then, leaving me standing alone in utter astonishment. I shake my head trying to rattle loose the clinging bits of confusion. What happened? I save him from getting busted by the cops and he turns it around, blames me, and then yells at me.

  I wander away in a daze, not paying attention to where I’m going other than to avoid the crowds of people. The scene replays in my mind and never makes any more sense than it did the first time. Jared is a disaster, and I can’t help him. No, I decide, there has to be a way to get through to him before he gets sent to jail or dies. I watch the black tips of my shoes appear one after the other from under the hem of my skirt until they reach a curb. My toes hang over the concrete edge. Move forward or move back, the decision is mine, but always keep going. Jared too, he’s made his decision. Nathaniel said Jared’s experiences will teach him lessons he may not get from any other path, but I can’t watch him destroy himself. I just can’t.

  I step back from the curb and come out of my internal abstractions. I’m on the opposite side of the park from my car. A shadow larger than a mountain moves over the park and gives my eyes some gentle relief from the sun. I peer up and see an enormous billowing cloud. It’s the first one to make it to town. Its sisters are growing into huge thunderheads behind it and to the west. The system looks high in the atmosphere and building at a slow rate, for now. The festival should be safe for a while still. The attendees seem to be of a similar mindset, not a single umbrella or raincoat is to be seen. I’m envious. I want to enjoy the summer. I want to be ignorant of the worries hanging over my head. It’s not to be. As I hurry over to my car I notice the clouds to the west are darkening by the second. They remind me of layers of ash from the remains of a fire; white on the top, gray in the middle and black on the bottom. The storm will be here sooner than I thought.

  Inside my car and buckled into place, I give myself a small rewarding nudge of accomplishment. I made it to the car without tripping or stumbling once, even though I’m distracted and upset, which is when I’m most likely to hurt myself. Maybe I’m not such a slow learner after all. The distraction of my personal joke helps me lighten up a measurable degree until I notice I’m practically staring at Lance De’Lao and my brother.

  They’re in what I have to assume is Lance’s other Porsche, still black, but this one is an SUV. I don’t think either of them has noticed me. Both of their heads are bent down with serious expressions on their faces, as if they’re studying something. Jared nods his head as Lance speaks. As I spy — umm, not spy, only curiously watch them — it occurs to me I never told Jared the most important part of what I wanted to tell him, the reason I jumped out of my car in the first place. Seeing him with Lance reminds me with gut wrenching clarity of what was so important. Jared needs to stay away from Mason and Fredrick. After seeing them together last night, I shudder at the memory. It’s vital he knows about the police looking for Mason. Another mind bending thought occurs to me. Jared is selling drugs. Oh no! Please let there be no connection to the maniac! What about Lance? I can’t believe he would be involved with drugs in any way. I can’t begin to wrap my mind around it. Lance is so clean cut. They have to be discussing band stuff. But what do I know? I would’ve sworn last week Jared would never shoot up drugs either.

  If Jared doesn’t know about Mason and Fredrick then I have to tell him. As frustrated as I am with him I still don’t want him to get into serious trouble. I’ll wait another minute and if he gets out of the SUV I’ll tell him and try not to start another fight. Lance talks on his phone. He hangs up as a white Nissan Z pulls behind the Porsche and stops. Both their heads turn to look and then Jared gets out. I can’t see him behind Lance’s SUV but I have to assume he gets in the car because he disappears. As the Z pulls away, sleek and rumbling, I see the unmistakable lines of Jared’s profile inside the dark tinted windows.

  I start my own car and drive away. What am I doing? How much time have I wasted? I need to get laundry soap, remember?

  I didn’t recognize the Z and I couldn’t see the driver, but at this point, does it really matter? I need to get home and try to relax. I may have missed Nathaniel already. His note was not very specific, like everything he says, but it’d be nice to see him under normal circumstances. Really nice. “I will be back as soon as possible,” the note read. How long is that? If I’m not there, what will he think? Why would he assume I didn’t have anywhere to be today? That’s pretty presumptuous. No, it isn’t like that, I remind myself the note said “stay home today, and, stay safe.” He’s worried about me, that’s all. He’s seen me trapped in a creek, manhandled by a mad man, and stumbling like a drunk through the forest. At least he didn’t witness my near car crash. There’s something seriously wrong with me lately, I think, as I drive across Center Street. I’m not immune to accidents, but a list of near-fatal ones in two days is extreme.

  I stop at the next stop sign and stare across the street at a bustling grocery store parking lot. As I wait for the cross traffic, I see a white car coming toward me. My eyes narrow looking for Jared inside. I don’t know why I have to look but I’m compelled to. It’s like staring at an accident scene, the urge to witness overpowers the fear of what you might see. There are so many white cars, the chances of it being the same one is slim to none, and yet I still watch for him. The closer the car comes the more I’m convinced it’s the same Nissan. It is him! My stupid brother is everywhere today.

  I gasp and my heart skips a beat as I recognize the driver. They zoom past in what seems like a second, but Mason’s bulldog face is unforgettable. Jared didn’t look at me as he passed by. Why on earth is he with a known drug dealer? How much stupider can he get? But he doesn’t know the cops are looking for Mason, a small voice reminds me. You didn’t tell him.

  I turn and follow them without thinking about what I’m doing. I watch the taillights ahead and my brain starts working again. Part of me is saying, turn this car around and go to the store, and another part is insisting I collect Jared and keep him out of trouble like I’ve always done. The part that is ultimately winning this silent argument is reminding me I can’t ignore the rule of three. If it happens in threes, it must be. One: Jared practically ran right in front of my car at the park. Two: When I’m ready to leave, he’s right in front of me, and three: I try to go about my day and here he is again. The synchronicity can’t be ignored, or the earth may erupt under my feet or I’ll be struck down from the heavens. Either way the outcome is the same. So whether Jared wants me to or not, I have to try to do something.

  I lift my chest, press my shoulders back against the seat, and take a deep breath. The last bits of argument from the other side are still insisting, “Run away and don’t look back, you crazy lady. What do you think you’re doing? Mason is the scariest person you’ve ever met and he likes you!” A shiver prickles across my scalp and down the back of my neck. Grandma Charlotte says pinpricks on the back of the neck mean someone on the other side is trying to protect you. I’m going to blame the sudden chill in the air.

  “He’s my brother!” I yell exasperated. It almost makes me smile at how nutso I must be right now. I clench my jaw and take a white knuckle grip on the wheel, following them toward darkness.

  Chapter Twenty-two: Motor’s Running

  Nathaniel

  I’m at total peace. I float, not in space or in time but inside, feeling light and at ease with myself. The feeling’s completely new and I linger on it, letting my entire being absorb the downy soft comfort of the experience. It’s amazing and more
real than anything I’ve ever known.

  It’s because of her. I’ve never been able to tell someone how I felt before, about what had happened to me and in the telling, something changed. I’m a listener. I’m the one people confide in. I pay attention and give reassurances either by my presence or with my words. Last night the table was turned. I talked and she listened. The bitterness, the shame, and the feeling of being judged are gone. I didn’t know I had been holding onto so much until it wasn’t there anymore and I have Juliana to thank.

  Something, no, everything about her has changed me. Her innocent gaze and her nervous babble are irresistible but she hadn’t done anything other than be herself. She may be the most authentic person I’ve ever met and she makes me want to be the same. I had to fix myself first. Reaching my highest potential will only assist me in helping her. That’s the least of what I can do for all she has unknowingly given me. Whatever this is between us it feels incredible. How have I never known such an overwhelming need to be with someone before? I will follow through with my oath to keep her alive at any expense.

  I’m almost recharged. The forced rest period is a deep slumber for my spirit. It came when I was so drained I didn’t have enough strength left to pull any energy from the great cosmos to myself. Others like me, I’ve heard, don’t need it, but my youth makes it a requirement. How long do I have to spend in the afterlife before I don’t have to sleep? Another year, two, fifty, a hundred? Maybe it has more to do with the level of activity I’m engaging in. Yesterday I consumed more energy than I ever have before and I’ll do it again and again if I have to, but I hope it isn’t the case forever. Leaving Juliana last night because of being completely spent was the hardest thing I’ve done since my death.

  As my thoughts gain steam I try to focus on her so I can return as soon as possible. For her own safety I hope she’s still at home. How did she take my note? Writing had been another challenge. By the time I came up with the idea, I’d barely been able to pick up a pen, not to mention I haven’t written a single word in over twenty years.

  The pen, the paper, and Juliana, combined with my last living memories reminded me of what I’d been studying that night. I was writing a paper on animal mythology from around the globe when my father had yanked me from my room and accidentally shot and killed me. I was comparing four different cultures’ folklore and beliefs surrounding the fox. On opposite sides of the world, different groups of people believe foxes can change into women. Fox-women are animals of the in-between worlds. They move on the edge of dimensions, they see but aren’t seen, they know the truth in your soul beyond what’s said aloud. One culture believed the fox is the protector of the family unit. Everything I recall from writing that paper reminds me of Juliana. Is she a fox walking around as a woman? I could believe it. Beautiful and sleek, camouflaged and protective of her brother. If she isn’t one herself, then her totem animal is a fox, and it is strong inside her.

  My comparisons of her with a fox urge me to move toward her. I say Juliana Crowson in my mind and concentrate on the details which make her unique. Hair like a raven’s wing, green and gold eyes flecked with red, her wide mouth with those tender lips, her slender frame, the nervous babble, the way she gets excited when she looks at foliage, and purple, she likes the color purple. The familiar and unsettling rush of movement starts to gain speed and the setting comes into focus. Nervous excitement grips me by the chest hairs as I realize I’m about to speak with her again. I should be able to see her right away but I don’t. Both this town and the mountains in the distance look familiar. The peaks are buried under mushrooming thunderheads. I search for her in the crowd. It’s a sea of lawn chairs and insulated cooler boxes. The people are dressed for summer in shorts and tank tops of every color. Blues rock pounds out from large speakers and smoke drifts to the sky from the black cylinders of the barbecues. I spin around, confused as to why I’m not right with her and I see a familiar shape sitting at a table.

  He watches me with no readable expression. It’s my friend and mentor, Marcus. Here again so soon? It’s good to see him, so easy going and laid back, but a sinking feeling fills the pit of my stomach as I walk over.

  “Nathaniel.” He nods once.

  “Marcus.”

  Cordialities concluded, I stand back with my arms crossed over my chest. He’s straight-faced, but calm, I think. Marcus is always calm. A pack of rabid wolves wouldn’t make him blink.

  “How are things?” he asks in his deep rumble.

  I watch and listen for any clue, but notice nothing to enlighten me to his unexpected appearance. “Wonderful,” I say flatter than a horn out of tune, even though inside I’m awash in bubbles of light.

  “Glad to hear it,” he says.

  I’ll have to wait until he’s ready, but my anxiety to get back to Juliana is like a splinter in my finger. The sooner I can do something about it the better.

  “I need to get back to my case,” I say.

  “My own had a disturbing outcome last night. It’s a strange place, that stone mansion.”

  “Yes it is. I was glad to be away from there.” And back with Juliana after.

  “How did it go afterward?” he asks.

  His hands rest, one on top of the other, on the picnic table. He looks as if he has all the time in eternity, which he likely does. I don’t. “My client was shaken by the situation but she’ll recover.”

  “Do you feel confident about what you’re doing for this one?”

  “Not exactly,” I admit.

  “Do you want to talk about it? My own experience may be of use.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Why is that?”

  My teeth clench together reflexively. I can’t tell if he has an angle. Does he know I’m going against the rules? That I’ve already broken some of them and saved Juliana’s life, rather than escorting her to the afterlife like I was supposed to? I force my jaw to let go so I can speak. “Things have changed, that’s all.”

  “Changed for her, or for you?”

  I rub my forehead, hiding behind my hand, and then I look back at him. He looks patient and undisturbed, the opposite of how I feel. “What are you doing here, Marcus?”

  “Why the urgency, brother?”

  “I like this case and I need to get back,” I tell him with complete honesty.

  “I saw you last night and now today. I can see the change about you. How does it feel?”

  “What are you talking about?” I say a bit defensively.

  “You’re healed of an old wound, are you not?”

  “If you say you can see it, then you already know.”

  “I’m happy for you. Letting go and moving on is a wondrous thing at any level,” he says with deep sincerity.

  “Thanks.” I think. He recognized a change in me. Is it obvious? No, he’s Marcus, he sees more. I hadn’t considered I’d been healed. I didn’t know I was wounded, but it makes sense, and it felt right. My injury was emotional trauma to my spirit. I carried it with me past death and now it’s healed. It feels unbelievable.

  “Moving on is the key,” he says. “Allowing and accepting is the ultimate journey toward unconditional love.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes. It’s alchemy, man. By finding some understanding in the unfathomable, you transformed your beliefs and moved past it. Can you find some understanding in what’s right in front of you now?” He raises his brows at me, staring me down.

  He’s referring to two things at once. Talking about my healed soul and making reference to the mistakes I’m making with Juliana. I don’t answer.

  “You’re messin’ yourself up, man, by getting involved with the girl.”

  “Involved with the girl? Isn’t that my job?” It came out more sarcastic than I wanted it to.

  “After they die, not before.”

  “Is that how it always has to be? She sees me. What am I supposed to do? Ignore her?”

  “I understand it’s complicated. I believe you’ll f
igure this out, but my fear is you’re going to injure yourself worse than you realize.”

  “Are you referring to Liam?” I move to the picnic table and sit across from Marcus.

  “Liam regrets his actions. You should ask him yourself sometime. That is, if you can find him.”

  “I may do that. Someday.”

  Marcus gives me a disapproving look.

  “You will not choose a path like Liam if there’s any way I can stop it from happenin’. It can only lead to despair. I believe you may be off track, but not a train wreck. I’m here to help you. You do know that, don’t you?”

  “I don’t need your help.” My knee bobs up and down under the table like an idling motor. I’m ready to shift into gear and take off, back to Juliana.

  “You decline my help.”

  “Yes.”

  “You aren’t the first one to be in this position. Sometimes switching cases with someone saves everyone unwanted problems.”

  “I don’t care what happens to me.”

  “Is that so?” he asks me while stroking his chin. “What if you never saw this young lady again?”

  “Is that the risk I’m taking?”

  “Could happen that way. Other possibilities include demotion.”

  “Demoted from what? I already babysit the dead and the dying! I’m game, right now, let’s do it. Sign me up. I’m done with this job.”

  “Nathaniel, servitude is not the bane of your existence.”

  “You sure about that? I’m not.”

  “There are other ways to serve which are less appealing. You need to keep that in mind.”

  “Yeah? That’s my punishment for not playing along, for doing what I feel is right. She’s different, she deserves a life. I can’t help myself.”

  “No one knows in advance the outcome of acting selfishly. You may harm her. Again I offer to take over from here.”

  “No! I can do this,” I say reassuring myself, and Marcus.

  “I know you can, man, but the offer stands.”