Incident At Elder Creek

by Anna Furtado

  As if reading her mind, Olivia said, “What are you doing back here? You shouldn’t have come, you know. It’s dangerous.”

  “I have no idea what I’m doing back here, Olivia. I wish I weren’t here, but apparently there is something for me to learn. I need information—information I can only get here.”

  “What information is it you’re looking for?”

  “I have no idea. If I knew, I probably wouldn’t need to come back. I’d be better off going to the library to look it up.”

  Olivia looked at her, eyes full of questions. “What a silly thing to say. First, the closest library is hours away in Sacramento. Second, if you want to know something from this place, you’ve got to be here, not in some library.”

  Tucker stared. “You know, Olivia, you’re probably right. But I’m not even sure where I should look for what I need. Not only that, I don’t know what questions to ask.”

  Olivia’s look felt as if it penetrated into Tucker’s soul. “If you want answers to your questions, the first answer is obvious. You’ve got to knock on the right door.”

  Tucker recognized the answer as soon as she heard it. She repeated it over and over. If she wanted the solution to her problem, she’d have to knock on the right door. It escaped her how she knew this to be correct, but she understood it as truth without question. “The right door,” she said aloud.

  Olivia nodded once. Then, she disappeared right before Tucker’s eyes as if she were an apparition.

  Tucker blinked and looked around the room. She found herself, no longer in Olivia’s place of business, but in Leah’s living room on her couch with the first gray light of dawn breaking, visible through the living room window.

  She mumbled to herself. “I have to find the right door.” She blew out her breath in frustration. “What the heck does it mean? Which door? Where?” The certainty faded as her frustration increased.

  She closed her eyes and drew in a long, slow breath, filling her lungs, hoping to fill her mind with answers. By the time she exhaled, she could think of only one more question. It boiled down to this: what question would the door—or perhaps what existed on the other side of the door—answer?

  Before she pondered any further, she drifted off to sleep again. This time, she slept the sleep of peaceful dreamlessness, without encounters with Olivia, or anyone else.

  THE NEXT TIME Tucker woke, the light shone so brightly, it penetrated through her closed eyelids. She thought about how much it might hurt when she opened them, but she knew it was necessary. She opened one eye a crack and found it not quite as blinding as she thought it would be. She opened the other eye slightly. Okay, this works. She opened both eyes a little more and Leah stepped within her field of vision.

  At first details were impossible to decipher as light from behind Leah gave her body an angelic aura, making her appear in silhouette. Then the sun’s rays shifted behind her and she stood in a gossamer gown, allowing the outline of her whole body to be silhouetted from within the garment.

  Tucker felt the saliva stick in her throat mid-swallow. She tried to smile, but it felt like a grimace. Holy shit, she thought. What’s going on? She didn’t know how she’d manage all these mixed messages from Leah.

  Passionate kisses and instructions to sleep on the couch were one thing, but standing before her like this? Tucker didn’t know if she’d be able to resist scooping her up in her arms and carrying her off to bed. She thought she would call out Leah’s name, to reason with her, to tell her she couldn’t come and stand before her looking like that and expect her to be able to control herself. How much willpower did she think Tucker could muster, anyway? However, when she tried to speak, nothing came out but a dry, raspy sound.

  Leah extended her hand to Tucker without uttering a word. Tucker grasped it firmly and allowed Leah to pull her up to a standing position. Still holding on to Tucker’s hand, Leah led—no, dragged—Tucker down the hall. Where were they going?

  Uh-oh.

  When they reached the doorway to Leah’s bedroom, Tucker tried to clear her throat to say something. Uncertainty filled her. Should she protest? Challenge her actions? Express caution? Give consent?

  Tucker didn’t succeed in finding her voice, so she tried to buy some time by pulling Leah to a halt. Leah resisted, but finally stopped and looked at her. However, something distracted Tucker now, because, set into the closed bedroom door, right above Leah’s head, bold black characters caught her eye. They glowed with bright white light around them.

  Tucker struggled to make sense of them. Letters? What did they spell? What she saw didn’t make sense.

  Her mind cleared. No. Not letters—numbers. Tucker blinked several times, trying to bring them into better focus, to make sure she understood what she saw. One...eight...seven...three.

  Eighteen-seventy-three? Was it possible? Could the date on the newspaper not be a year at all, but instead be—

  Forget.

  A whooshing sound, like a gale force wind, echoed in her ears with the word embedded within it.

  Forget.

  The wind tried to carry this new realization away, pulling it from her mind.

  As if clinging to a tree in a tornado, so as not to blow away, Tucker tried to hold on to this new awareness—1873 might not be a year at all. It might be an address.

  The wind picked up, pummeling her, clothes snapping against her skin, her hair like tiny whip ends beating against her face.

  Forget.

  The wind pried at her grip on Leah’s hand. Tucker grasped it tighter.

  Forget.

  Like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, she felt as if she’d be blown away to a land with experiences stranger than anything in L. Frank Baum’s imagination. She held onto Leah’s fingers with the tips of her own, barely clinging to her. One more gust and she’d be gone. Maybe she’d be blown back to 1873. But now she knew 1873 wasn’t a year. The conviction of this new knowledge filled her. Not a year at all—an address.

  Forget.

  The wind picked up and raged one more time and Leah’s fingertips slid from hers. The wind swirled around her. Tucker watched as Leah rode the cold blast upward, she heard her laugh, but this time the sound gave Tucker no joy. It didn’t sound like Leah’s laugh at all. As Leah disappeared, she thought she saw the angry face of Nigel Dunbar supplanted on Leah’s body, white, gossamer tendrils of the garment flowing all around his menacing form. She squeezed her eyes shut against the image.

  TUCKER OPENED HER eyes to an eerie quiet, the storm dissipated. The sun shone through the windows, everything appeared normal in the morning light. Down the hall, she noticed Leah’s bedroom door ajar, but she heard no sounds.

  The bedroom door...she threw off the covers, sprang from the couch, and ran down the hall. The familiar word floated around her, but this time it sounded weak, distant.

  Forget.

  Its power was gone.

  She examined the door. It appeared as she remembered it from years ago, painted in a glistening white enamel, without numbers.

  “Leah?”

  No answer.

  Tucker called louder this time. “Leah? Are you in there?”

  Nothing. She pushed open the bedroom door with one finger, her heart thundering in her ears.

  The bedroom was awash in bright morning light. Leah’s bed stood in the center of the room, crisply made up with a white bedspread embroidered with tiny pink flowers. Everything in the room looked neat and tidy.

  Her heart slowed down a little, but she still didn’t feel completely at ease. Where was Leah?

  She walked back down the hall and entered the kitchen. On the table, she found Leah’s note.

  When she found Tucker sleeping so soundly this morning, it read, she didn’t want to wake her. She needed to get to school early for a staff meeting. She’d meet her at The Charlie for dinner at five. She signed it with a little heart cradled in the angle of the letter L.

  Tucker’s heart slowed to a more normal rhythm. Leah was okay.
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  She looked at the clock on the microwave. Nine-fifteen. It was odd for her to sleep so long and why didn’t Leah’s stirrings wake her? A barrage of emotions thrashed against her mind, all centered on Leah’s safety. She’d be at work by now, surrounded by people. She thought about the strange dream. Leah’s coming to her, looking very sexy, very alluring. She’d never have been able to resist her, the way she looked, the way she dressed. She would have been willing to go into the bedroom...

  The door appeared in her mind’s eye. She visualized the numbers as if she saw them in the dream.

  Forget.

  For a second time, she realized the word lost some of its influence on her, confirming the memories were more likely the true ones. She remembered. The number, 1873, wasn’t a year at all. Perhaps it explained why the newspaper contained all the wrong information in it. Even the errors contributed to the clues.

  Instead, 1873 might very well be an address, but an address where?

  She walked into Leah’s office, hoping to find information using Leah’s laptop, but she found the spot it usually occupied on the desk empty. Leah probably took it to school with her. She sighed. She’d have to go back to the hotel and get hers.

  Just as well, she thought. She wanted to go pack up and check out anyway. She smiled at the thought of sharing this, her childhood home, with Leah, at least for a while.

  She shivered with pleasure when she thought about seeing Leah in the nearly see-through nightgown. Then she quivered again as she recalled it wasn’t actually Leah. Because in the end, the person’s face became the man she dreaded most, Dunbar, and he didn’t look at all pleased. Bile raised in her throat matching the feeling of pressure in her chest caused by the fear Dunbar evoked in her. Now, if she could only figure out the connection between Dunbar and Demetrius Notch.

  TUCKER SAT AT a table near the door of The Charlie drinking a Twigs. She wanted beer but thought she’d better have a clear head for the upcoming meeting. She tapped her finger on the wooden surface, anxious for Leah to appear.

  Jackie came up behind her and said, “You know, you remind me of Rusty.”

  “Rusty? Who’s—oh, you mean the dog you used to have when we were kids?”

  “Yes, him. Rusty.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because he worshiped the ground my father walked on. Every day, about twenty minutes before my dad would come home, he’d get up from his nap, stretch and shake, then go sit bolt upright about three feet from the front door, waiting for Dad to get home from work. He never wavered. He did it every day. He didn’t lie down. He never waited one foot back or one foot closer. He always waited three feet away from the door, always sitting up straight as a pole, and always twenty minutes before dad came home. You reminded me of Rusty for a minute there.”

  Tucker chuckled at the comparison. “I’m worried about her, is all. I’ll feel better as soon as I see her walk in here.”

  The reference made her think of her dream—or whatever the hell she experienced earlier in the day. She remained silent about it, deciding not to tell Jackie. She didn’t want to tell anyone. It creeped her out the more she thought about it. She knew Leah wasn’t the one trying to seduce her, but seduce her to what? More clouds swirled, blocking her ability to figure it out.

  She checked out of the hotel and, having allowed the old self-locking Schlage lock to engage behind her at Leah’s when she left, she returned using her landlord key. She knew Leah wouldn’t mind, but she also made a note to have a deadbolt installed on both doors of the place as soon as possible.

  Once she settled her belongings out of the way of traffic in the living room, she booted up her computer and searched online for an address in Elder Creek. It yielded no 1873 for any street in town or in the unincorporated outskirts. At a loss as to what to do next to try to solve the mystery, she started second guessing herself, wondering if her assumption about an address might be wrong, thinking her mind might be playing crazy tricks on her—again.

  Jackie shook her from her musings as she patted her on the shoulder without saying another word and sauntered behind the bar. The front door opened. One of the townspeople walked in and sat at the bar. Jackie began pouring a draft beer. Tucker dug her phone from her pocket and looked at the time. Five-fifteen. Where was Leah? She should be here by now.

  She began tapping the table again. Another five minutes passed while she sat there, sipping on the Twigs, tapping, staring, willing Leah to appear. Just like Rusty, she thought.

  At five-thirty the door opened, and Tucker recognized Leah’s blonde head. She blew out a breath and with her next intake of air, her world righted itself again. Leah approached, unwrapping herself from her wool coat and scarf.

  “Sorry I’m late.”

  When Tucker looked into her eyes, she knew something was wrong.

  “SOMEONE FOLLOWED ME from school tonight.”

  Jackie joined Leah and Tucker, bringing their dinner with her. “How do you know? Maybe someone happened to be coming to Elder Creek tonight.”

  “The thought did occur to me. So I sped up a little and they sped up, too. Then, I pulled into Snackajawea in Portero and the car went by me. I waited a few minutes. Then I headed here. A few blocks out, the car appeared again. I kept driving, knowing when I hit Elder Creek if I parked where people walked around, I’d be fine. When I reached town, I pulled into the first space I found near here and waited. The car kept driving out of town. As soon as they went by me, I jumped out of my car and ran in here, in case they decided to loop around, but I didn’t see the car again.”

  “Did you get a license number? Maybe the car make and model?” Jackie asked.

  “I didn’t get a license number. We need better street lighting in this town.” She glared at Tucker and said, “Can you do something about the street lights around here? Put it on your assistant’s list, maybe?” She looked over at Jackie.

  Jackie chuckled. “It’s assistant flunky to you. Go on. Did you see the make of the car by any chance?”

  “All I can tell you is it’s a dark colored four-door. Oh, but I did notice the back bumper pulled out a little where it curved around the side of the car as it went past me. It looks like it might have gotten caught on something to pull it out of shape. Otherwise, I’ve got nothing.”

  Tucker tapped the table top. Jackie glared at her.

  “Stop it. You drive me crazy with your tapping.” Then, “Why are you so quiet. Don’t you have anything to say?”

  Tucker stopped tapping. “What I have to say is this sounds like trouble following Leah. I think we need to make another phone call to the sheriff.” She looked at Leah. “And I think you need to take some time off from work.”

  “I can’t take time off because of some unproven threat, Tucker.”

  Tucker resumed the tapping until Jackie stilled her hand by placing her own over it. “Tucker, please.”

  Tucker pulled her hand away and looked at Leah and said, “Please, Leah, how can I protect you when you’re off in Portero all day?”

  “You don’t need to protect me. You have your own business to attend to. I can take care of myself. Maybe Jackie’s right. Maybe it’s a coincidence. Maybe the person needed to come to Elder Creek and happened to be behind me.”

  “Even after you pulled off the road for a while?” Tucker asked. “Not likely. Something’s going on, Leah. Something serious. Who knows if it’s related to all the things going on around here lately? Maybe I shouldn’t be the one staying with you. Maybe I’m bringing danger to your door. Now I’m not so sure if I should have checked out of the hotel. And those crazy experiences I’ve been having, what about those? Until I can figure it out, maybe Jackie should be the one staying with you.”

  Jackie’s eyes widened. “Me? What protection would I be? I’m here at the bar ’till late most nights.”

  “What about Tracey or Denise? Why can’t they work the night shift?”

  “Tucker, look, Tracey and Denise both have kids. I hired them spe
cifically to give me time off during the day. Tracey’s willing to work nights once a week to give me a whole day off, and they’ll help out when we have a meeting, but neither one of those women would be willing to work nights regularly and I don’t blame them. We didn’t agree to those kinds of hours.

  “Besides, I don’t understand how those experiences you’ve been having back in days of old relate to whatever is going on surrounding Leah. A bear came to her back door, and she encountered someone who happened to be coming to Elder Creek from Portero at the same time she did. This unknown person also might have stopped off somewhere to run an errand at the same time Leah pulled off the road. Did that possibility ever occur to you? And maybe it’s a coincidence the other person happened to finish his or her errand around the same time and pulled back onto the road behind Leah again. Stranger things have happened.”

  Stranger things could happen. “Okay, Jackie, if you say so,” Tucker still didn’t believe it was mere coincidence.

  “Except,” Leah chimed in, “we all know a bear didn’t come to my back door, don’t we?”

  Tucker looked at Leah, then back at Jackie. “See what you’ve done?”

  “What?”

  “You’ve burst the bubble of illusion. We were supposed to keep the bubble intact and high in the air, so Leah wouldn’t worry too much. Now you’ve ruined it.”

  “Why is it my fault? I’m the one advocating for the happenstance theory here.”

  “Yes, but by prolonging this conversation, Leah has been obviously ruminating on not only her most recent experience, but now she’s back on the bear.”

  “Or the not-a-bear,” Leah said.

  “Oh. Sorry, Leah,” Jackie mumbled.

  “It doesn’t matter, Jackie,” Leah said. “The bubble wasn’t working anyway.”

  They sat in silence until Jackie picked up her phone from the table and said, “Look at the time. The meeting starts in fifteen minutes.” She gathered their empty plates and added, “Let’s all take a deep breath and try not to worry about any of this right now. You can figure out if you need to call the sheriff after the meeting. You two go on. I’ll meet you there.”