Spiritdell Book 2

by Dalya Moon

Gran is the only one here, and she says James and Julie have already gone home because their parents were concerned about them.

  I tell her Austin's okay, and she comments on how strange it is when separate calamities all happen at the same time, and how there's something odd about this town.

  She's still wearing my ring, on her wedding finger, even though her husband's disappeared. I wish I never had to see that ring again.

  If Crystal was wearing the ring when she was hypnotized and shot Newt, that ring probably did the same thing The Hound Girl's necklace did. I have to get it away from my grandmother, for her safety.

  I need it for myself.

  No, I need to destroy the ring, hammer it into nothing, so it can't hurt anyone.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Heidi

  In the darkest part of the night, while Zan is asleep in his warm bed inside the room with the striped wallpaper and the plastic stars on the ceiling, miles away, a taxi pulls into the parking lot of an unassuming gas station.

  The man, named Jackson, steps out of the vehicle. He is seventy-one years old, plus three months and nine days. His skin is dark and his beard is white. He has come here because his dear friend is dying.

  Heidi has left the door unlocked.

  Jackson lets himself in. The cottage smells of rotting flowers and wine.

  Her bed is empty, but he finds her in the bath, in water, her eyes closed. The air is humid, the water still hot. She opens her eyes as he turns his away.

  “I'm sorry,” he says. “Shall I fetch you a robe?”

  “I've nothing to hide,” she says. “Come, sit with me.”

  He removes his shoes and hat and steps into the bathroom. At her suggestion, he folds a towel, blue, and places it on the closed toilet before taking a seat.

  “Can I get you anything?” he asks.

  “I need nothing.”

  After a moment of no sounds but three drips from the tap, he says, “The police didn't catch him, but I believe we've scared him off.”

  “I know,” she says, her eyes closed again.

  Of course she knows, he thinks. She always knows, though not everything and not always in time. Giving Zan the clue about The Bridge, buried in a vision from her palms, had been her idea, and she'd made it appear accidental. How many accidents had the woman arranged in her life? Hundreds? Thousands? Had it even truly been Jackson's own idea to come here tonight, or had this been her plan all along?

  His only part had been to point Zan in the direction of investigating Susan's death, and he'd nearly blown his cover by calling the boy by his name. Jackson wasn't as good on his own. He would be lost without Heidi.

  Her eyelashes are half gray and half white, and her hair curls up where it reaches the water.

  “And the necklace? Where is that?” she asks.

  Like you don't already know, he thinks. “Somewhere safe.” It's still nice of her to ask, so they can talk.

  “My great grandniece would have one day worn the necklace,” Heidi says. “Her path has now been altered, and the problems she faces will be only of her own.”

  “I'll keep an eye on Missy and Fionnula.”

  “I trust you.” She slides down a little deeper into the water. “How did Zan come to possess the book?”

  Jackson leans forward and rests his face in his hands. “Beats me. My cat was able to retrieve the book from the boy's home. I've torn the pages and buried it, like you suggested.”

  She closes her eyes, appearing to be asleep. “We're too late on that matter,” she says, her voice sad and brittle. “Even as I lose strength, the one we cannot see gains.”

  “What are his plans?”

  She opens her eyes. Her pupils are the color of ashes. “Not his plans. Hers.”

  A woman. “Then it is not one of us.”

  “No. Someone new. But we are not linked to her.”

  “Neither is he.”

  “Not yet,” Heidi says. “But she is calling to him, and soon she will know who he is. She's been feeding him, making him stronger, using his own bees.”

  He tries to imagine this, but it's all too much. Everything is happening so fast. Not a man, a woman. This new threat could be anyone, and all he has are the old ways. Can the old ways help against new threats?

  He asks, “With Rudy gone, and Newt gone, won't it be safer to bring the boy in with us?”

  She makes a hissing sound and strikes the water with her hand, splashing his legs. “No! No more! It must end with us.”

  He bows his head. “I shall honor your wish.”

  “You shall honor what is right, what is good.”

  He rubs at his eyes and forehead with his hands, commanding his emotions to stay low. When did his hands become so wrinkled? When did her hair turn so white?

  “Shall I stay?” he asks.

  “No. Send someone in the morning to collect my body. Burn everything else.”

  “That's all?” He knows what he wants to hear, but she will never say the words.

  “Goodbye,” she says.

  He stands and gathers his hat and his shoes.

  “Goodbye.”

  Outside, the sky is turning from blue to violet.

  When he gets in his taxi, he's surprised to find the leather seat is still warm.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I wake up at sunrise. Gran's still asleep and the house is quiet.

  The sun is weak and I shiver as I dig a hole in the backyard, next to the tree, and lay the five little dead birds in there. I say some words of thanks for each one as a handful of their crow friends watch from the branches above me.

  I cover them with my suit jacket before I pile on the dirt, so the dirt doesn't go in their mouths. I can't keep the memory of my vision from Heidi out of my head, the feeling of her being dead. Is this the end for her? Her brother's killer has been identified, although not yet brought to justice. I don't know how much time she had, but the vision felt close to me. Too close.

  Overhead, the crows in the tree seem lost, as though waiting for instructions from me. I wonder if they're no longer getting orders from Heidi.

  “You're free,” I tell them. “Build nests. Do whatever you want to do.”

  I lean over to smooth out the dirt, and when I look up again, they're gone. I stand, dust off my hands, and go to the back door.

  Inside the house, I find Gran sitting at the kitchen table, holding an empty coffee cup to her lips.

  I wash my hands in the sink. Dirt is caked under my fingernails, because I didn't use a shovel to dig the hole. I didn't want to.

  Gran hasn't asked me what I was doing in the yard. She hasn't said much since the wedding yesterday.

  What can she say? At one point, she started to apologize, but I told her not to, and since then she's been withdrawn. She should have gone to church today. Eva came by to pick her up, but Gran said she'd rather not. Eva said they'd pray for her.

  What can I do? My heart is aching, but I don't know how much of it is for me and how much is for my grandmother, betrayed by her husband on their wedding day.

  Cups and dirty plates are strewn across the counter. I open the dishwasher and put away the clean dishes, then load it up with the dirty ones.

  After a few minutes, Gran says, “Would you like to go for a drive? A nice Sunday drive?”

  * * *

  We drive for nearly an hour, until we reach Spirit Waterfall, which feeds the river running through town.

  Gran parks the car and steps out. She doesn't walk to the tea shop where we've had lunch a few times, but toward the water, to the outcropping overlooking the waterfall.

  For an instant, I picture her jumping over, and my heart seems to leap into my throat. I catch up to her before the guardrail and loop her arm in mine.

  “Rudy's skipped town,” she says. “I have an appointment to talk to the police investigators on Monday, but I know he's gone.”

  We reach the railing and she turns to look into me. Her expression is so sad, her feelings s
o naked. I look away out of respect.

  “He won't hurt you,” I say.

  “He didn't even say goodbye.”

  I turn and face the waterfall. A cold mist rises up from it, and the air tastes fresh here. I've seen a rainbow or two every other time I've been here, but there are none today.

  “I don't think we'll ever see him again,” Gran says. “I'll have the marriage annulled, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  She pulls the gold ring off her finger and holds it between us. I feel its pull and want to take it from her, but I don't. I could tell her everything, but now that it's all over, what's the point?

  “Goodbye,” she says as she throws the ring over the side, into the mists of the waterfall.

  Goodbye.

  With the ring gone, I'm lighter.

  “It's just the two of us now,” she says, kissing me on the cheek. “I hope I can take care of you half as well as you take care of me.”

  I give her a hug and notice she's trembling from the cold.

  “Let's go inside, I'll buy you lunch,” I say.

  “It's a date.” She links her arm in mine and we walk away from the waterfall.

  A lone bird circles overhead.

  Thank you!

  Author's note: I began writing this book as soon as Spiritdell Book 1 released, because the friends who'd read it were clamoring for more. More importantly, I really wanted to spend more time with the characters from the first book. I love Zan, James, and Julie. I love all my characters, but these three are quite special.

  I hope you enjoyed reading these books as much as I did writing them.

  Thank you for your support!

  Dalya Moon