MOON FALL

by Tamara Thorne

  "Yes, Lucy. Excellent." He stood up, the erection painfully pushing against his trousers, and made the call to Sister Regina. Then he turned to Lucy. "Where?" he asked hoarsely.

  "Your bed, I think. I'm in the mood for handcuffs and leather."

  ''Your wish is my command," he murmured, as he scooped her up and carried her to her chosen fate.

  Sixty-one

  Sara Hawthorne sat back in her chair and gave John Lawson a twisted grin. ''And that's when Minerva Payne came along and banished the ghost. I suppose you think I'm hopelessly insane."

  "No," he said, after a long pause. "I have to admit that your ghost story sounds perfect for telling around a campfire on a summer night, but I do believe you."

  "You do?" she asked, not hiding her surprise. "You believe in ghosts?"

  ''I don't know what I believe in anymore," he told her. Deep in his bones, he could still feel the inexplicable chill. Briefly, he told her about the experience at Minerva's. "How can I possibly judge your story when I've just been through something nearly as weird?" he asked.

  ''Minerva gave me this," Sara said, pulling a leather thong and small cloth amulet from beneath her dark green sweater. "She says it will protect me."

  John sheepishly showed her his, then replaced it under his shirt. ''Minerva told me that you used to visit her when you were a student."

  ''It's funny. Even when Kelly Reed asked me to speak with her, I didn't recognize the name. I didn't remember anything, but I recognized her when I saw her by the waterfalls, and I remembered the house when she took me there."

  "Do you remember her now?"

  ''No, not exactly. But it seems right. I know it's true. I guess there's more missing from my memory than I thought."

  He nodded. "She says the nuns fog people's memories. Today, she told me that my brother died in my place. And that your roommate died in yours."

  ''Maybe Minerva is the villain in all this," Sara suggested hesitantly.

  "I've thought about that, but it doesn't feel right. Know what I mean?''

  ''Yes, I do, believe it or not."

  He shook his head. "I'm beginning to think we're living in the Twilight Zone."

  "What are we going to do about it?"

  "Get out of town?" he asked lightly.

  "Are you serious?"

  "Well, there's no reason for you to stay here," he began. "I have to. My position ... and it's the culmination of something my family has been involved in this since the beginning. I have to put a stop to it. I have to see it through or I won't be able to live with myself."

  ''Why do you think I feel any differently?" she asked archly.

  "I don't mean it that way. But if any of these things are true, you're living in a viper pit." He hesitated, trying to gauge her anger. "Speaking of vipers, tell me about Richard Dashwood. You said he drove you into town last night because you were having car trouble."

  She studied him, then nodded. "I did. The car wouldn't start, but this morning, I had Carlos check under the hood. Something was just loose."

  ''What?"

  She smiled sheepishly. ''I honestly don't know. Why?"

  "Do you know much about cars?"

  "Squat," she admitted.

  “It's always possible someone- Dashwood, for instance- loosened a wire to keep you from going out."

  "I hadn't thought of that," she said. "What is it you want to know about Dashwood?"

  "Is he courting you?"

  "Well, he's been bringing me truffles every night. Does that count as courting?"

  "In my book."

  "I need a twelve-step program to get over chocolate- ! can't resist the damned stuff. The thing is, last night I didn't give him a chance to give me any, and last night was the first time I didn't get unaccountably sleepy and have excruciatingly pleasant dreams."

  "Huh? What does 'excruciatingly pleasant' mean?''

  "Sexual dreams," she said, blushing.

  "Are you sure he's not drugging you, then coming to your room and- "

  "I suspect he is drugging me, but I know he's not coming to my room because I always wake up, urn, near the climax of the dream, and I'm alone."

  "No one can get in? If you're drugged- "

  "The minute I come in at night, I put a rubber wedge under the door. No one can get in, and whatever is in those truffles is mild. Once I wake up I feel normal, and when I go back to sleep there aren't any more dreams."

  "Can you bring me one of the chocolates? I'll have Doc Cutter analyze it. If Dashwood is drugging you, we'd have proof. That'll allow me to do some serious investigating. I can't do anything without a search warrant, but if you can get me the truffle, well, watch out, sisters. You hungry?"

  ''Famished. One thing first, though. I don't want you to think I'm going to turn tail and run. I won't leave."

  "You shouldn't be living there."

  ''I know, but I have to."

  "Why? Solving an old murder isn't worth risking your life."

  "Maybe not, but Kelly is. She's been locked up in solitary confinement all week. They have it in for her."

  ''Minerva mentioned that."

  ''Yes. I asked Richard- Dashwood, I mean- to intercede with Mother Lucy and get her sentence lifted. I have to be there for her."

  "What makes you think he'll do it?"

  "I used every catty trick I've ever seen in the movies."

  "You promised to sleep with him," he said sourly.

  ''Well, I promised to see him again, but I guess I implied more."

  "You know damned well that's what you implied." Half his mouth smiled, the other half refused. ' 'I admire your resourcefulness, but-"

  ''But what?" she asked, ready to be offended again.

  "But after that kiss last night, I don't want to share you with anyone, especially not that psychopathic charlatan."

  Slowly, so slowly, a smile spread across her face. "You're jealous?"

  "You bet."

  ''Good." She stood up and walked around the desk, leaned against it, and looked down at him. "I'm glad."

  John glanced at the door, saw it was latched but unlocked. He decided to take a chance on Dorothy's staying out for another minute and go for it. Placing his hands on her waist, he tugged her closer. She bent down and they shared their second kiss. Though it lasted only an instant, kissing Sara was as thrilling as the first time.

  Sixty-two

  Kelly Reed stared at the glowing white figure that hovered in the comer. It wasn't the crying ghost she had heard in her room; this was something else, and she thought she knew what it was: an infamous Lady in White.

  She was frightened, barely able to control her trembling, but Minerva had told her about the phantoms and how she'd encountered this one more than once. Sometimes it did nothing but float along through the forest or orchards, a simple ghost, but at other times it was a revenant, fueled by a human enemy.

  Kelly, the voice called. Since appearing a few moments before, the thing had repeated her name over and over until it echoed in her head. Kelly clutched the amulet under her shirt. It would protect her. It had to. A revenant can hurt you only if your fear allows it. It will tell you things, try to make you do things you don't want to do. If you ever encounter one, ignore it. Eventually it will go away. Kelly remembered Minerva's lesson as the phantom glided closer to her.

  ''Go away," she whispered, and turned her back on it. Trembling fiercely, she felt her way to the wooden chair and sat down facing the wall. "Go away."

  Sara Hawthorne is dead, Kelly. So is the old woman. They're dead, the life squeezed out of them. They're floating in the pond at the falls. The water is red with their blood.

  No, she told herself. It's trying to scare me, just like Minerva said. She even thought she knew who was doing the talking: that old bitch Lucy.

  She remembered the camera and wondered if all the nuns were gathered around watching her, or at least listening, since it was dark. Or maybe Marcia and Buffy and the rest were laughing at her right now, waiting for he
r to crack. Anger calmed her terror and she sat stolidly at the desk, even when icy fingertips caressed her face and a frigid tongue licked her neck.

  The phantom moved right through the table to stand before her. Its face was featureless except for the black eye sockets. Then it opened its mouth, wide, wider, impossibly wide, barring rows of triangular shark teeth. No! You won't scream! She bit her tongue, telling herself it was an illusion, just an illusion! and then the phantom's mouth widened even more, yawning over her, enveloping her. She heard herself screaming, as if from a distance; then everything faded to black.

  Sixty-three

  Sara had intended to return to the abbey hours ago, but after lunch John Lawson had invited her to his house for dinner and she'd impulsively accepted. After leaving the station, she had a feeling she wouldn't make it back to town if she spent the remainder of her free time at St. Gertrude's. Somebody might tamper with her car again- she was sure John was right about that- or the sisters would assign her some time-consuming task. Something would happen to spoil the evening.

  So she spent the hours exploring Moonfall's shops, and when she tired of that, Sawyer's Petting Zoo. It was a wonderful autumn afternoon and she relaxed and fed the sheep and goats com from the vending machines scattered around the park. She spent the last hour before dusk sitting on a bench, watching the fluffy-tailed gray squirrels search the ground for acorns and pine nuts to hoard for the coming winter.

  At five o'clock she drove to John's house and was welcomed by his son Mark, who was obviously trying to be polite but was full of questions about St. Gertrude's and the nightflyers. It was a little awkward; she didn't really know all that much, plus she didn't know how much John wanted the boy to know. She steered the conversation toward Minerva Payne, asking him questions about the vials of herbs and tinctures in the old lady's house. The boy seemed to know everything about them, or at least, their medicinal purposes. In the next twenty minutes, she heard an entire lecture on the antiseptic properties of myrrh, aspirin, and wintergreen oil, and how witches knew about digitalis and ephedrine long before doctors began using them for heart disease and asthma. His knowledge seemed inexhaustible, but it was fascinating nonetheless.

  John soon showed up bearing dinner: two pizzas, one with everything, one Hawaiian-style, plus a bag of salad fixings, a bottle of dressing, a six-pack of Coke, and two pints of Ben and Jerry's New York Chocolate Chunk.

  After the gourmet efforts of Richard Dashwood, John Lawson's version of dinner was refreshing. She didn't have to worry about which fork to use, the napkins were paper, not cloth, and he offered her a choice of Coke from the can or in a glass with ice, which was doubly refreshing. In contrast, Richard had an endless supply of exotic teas and juices, and his efforts to ply her with expensive wines combined with her own lack of knowledge to play hell with her self-confidence.

  But it was the rich chocolate ice cream that impressed her most of all: he had listened to her when she'd confessed her addiction, and he had remembered.

  The three of them talked about witches and nuns and gargoyles, nothing too serious. Then, after dessert, Mark made himself scarce, leaving Sara and John on the sofa, mellow flames crackling in the fireplace nearby. John had left the choice of music up to her, and she loaded his CD player with a mix from his eclectic collection. A little Jelly Roll Morton, Scott Joplin, and Charlie Parker for a classic jazz fix, followed by Mozart's ''A Little Night Music," some early Springsteen and recent Garth Brooks. John Lawson seemed to like everything she did, and she was pleased to see no sign of the Wagnerian epics that crowned Richard's opera collection. It was all so refreshingly normal.

  The music played softly while they talked, filling one another in on their lives. Finally, they reached the subject of St. Gertrude's, and John told her the details, as he remembered them, of his brother's death. She talked about Jenny Blaine and some of the runaways from her time as a student, and they both knew that the blots in their memories were more massive than they had realized. The missing pieces were similar in form and nature, and it was something that had doubtlessly been done to them. John told her about Minerva's offer to restore his memory, and she encouraged him to do so.

  Finally, the talking done, they indulged in some old-fashioned necking. He could have had her in a minute, but he didn't make the move, and she was glad. There were things that had to be worked out in both their lives, and although she wouldn't have resisted his advances- she wanted him too much for that- she knew it would be even better after they worked out their individual problems.

  Now it was past midnight and Sara, braver than usual, had parked her car in the garage and walked to the dormitory. No one was around, so she tiptoed down the hall to her old room, the one Kelly now shared with Marcia Crowley. Opening the door a crack, she peered inside. Neither Kelly nor Marcia was in the room. Obviously, Richard hadn't come through- at least, not yet. She wondered briefly where Marcia was but decided she wasn't that interested.

  Disappointed at Kelly's absence, she went up to her room, flipped on the light, and shoved the wedge under the door.

  ''Hi."

  She whirled. "Kelly! You scared me half to death!"

  The girl was sitting at the dining table, an open book in front of her. "Sorry."

  "You must have cat's eyes," Sara said, coming to the table and setting down a small bag of groceries she'd picked up during the day.

  "No." She produced Sara's flashlight from her lap. "I used this. I hope it's okay."

  "Of course it is. Want an apple?" 'She asked, pulling a small bag of Granny Smiths from the grocery sack.

  "That'd be great." Kelly took the fruit, then hesitated. "Are these from the nuns' orchard?"

  Sara grinned. "Heck, no. They're from the Addams Family Orchard way down the road. They're untouched by nuns."

  "Is that really what it's called?"

  "Yep." Sara sat down and took an apple for herself. "You look thinner. Didn't you eat?"

  ''I ate everything they gave me," Kelly said, between ravenous bites. "Bread and water. I'm starving."

  "Are you serious? They told me you were getting three squares a day."

  "More like three slices a day."

  "That's horrible." Sara got up and opened the refrigerator, took out a quart of milk, a package of ham, mustard, and bread, then quickly put together a sandwich for the girl. She brought it to the table, along with the whole carton of milk and a cup. "Eat. All you want."

  ''Thanks."

  Sara studied the girl while she ate. There were dark patches under her eyes, and her cheekbones stuck out under her thin flesh. Kelly ate voraciously. When she finished the last crumb, she looked up. "Thank you."

  ''You could have eaten something before I got here."

  "That'd be stealing."

  Sara doubted she'd learned her morals from the nuns. "Do you want anything else?"

  "No, thanks. I'm fine now."

  ''When did they let you out?"

  "Sometime late today. I don't know exactly. I passed out and woke up in my dorm room."

  "You fainted?"

  Kelly nodded.

  ''From hunger?"

  ''I wish. I got scared. God, Miss Hawthorne, it was horrible."

  "Call me Sara when we're alone."

  ''Really?"

  "Really. What frightened you?"

  "You'll think I'm nuts."

  ''Try me."

  "A ghost." Kelly eyed her. "Nuts, huh?"

  "Not unless I'm nuts, too. I've seen one twice."

  "Did it have teeth?"

  "Teeth?"

  "Yeah. Like Jaws. I tried to ignore it. Minerva told me all about revenants, and that they go away if you don't get scared."

  "Minerva told me that, too."

  ''Well, it kind of worked. Then it opened its mouth and I saw those teeth. It swallowed my head, and I fainted."

  "I don't blame you. I would've, too." Sara studied the girl, wondering how much she should say, what would help and what might do more harm. "If a re
venant is directed by a person, do you know who it might be?"

  "Lucy," she said firmly. "At first I thought it was Marcia and those guys, because they'd love to get me, but I decided they don't have the brains. It's Lucy or the nuns, for sure."

  Sara nodded. "What about Dr. Dashwood?"

  ''I dunno. Lucy said he got me out of the second week, so I kind of doubt it."

  "Don't trust him, Kelly."

  She looked up in surprise. "Why?"

  "I think he's been drugging me."

  Kelly's eyes widened. ''Really?"

  "Maybe. Did he tell you why he got you out?"

  ''Because he felt I'd learned my lesson." She rolled her eyes.

  ''He got you out because I promised to go out with him if he did." Sara felt petty telling her this, but she needed to know that Dashwood wasn't a knight in shining armor.

  "You did that for me?"

  "I was worried about you." She finished her apple. "Kelly, do you ever have problems with your memory?"

  "What do you mean?''

  ''Do you realize sometimes that pieces of time are missing, especially after you've been around Dr. Dashwood?"

  She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. ''Dashwood does this thing with his eyes. I think he tries to hypnotize me, but it doesn't work."

  ''Listen, Kelly, the sheriff says he might be able to do something if someone will come forward. Feeding you bread and water for a week is abuse."

  The girl hesitated. "No. If it didn't work, the nuns would really get on me, and if it did, they'd send me away."

  "You don't want to be here, do you?"

  "No, but I've been in foster homes and stuff, and it's just as bad. I don't want to leave Minerva. Or you."

  Kelly looked ready to bolt, so Sara nodded. ''Okay, but if you change your mind, tell me."

  "I want to live with Minerva."

  "She's very, very old. I don't know if she could take care of you."

  "I can help her."