by Patricia Fry
The next entry is titled, ‘Disaster.’” Iris handed the book to Savannah. “Here, you read it.”
She shuddered. “I think I know what’s next.” she looked around at the others.
Colbi nodded. “Yeah—the claw hammer comes out, right?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Savannah said. She looked at the page. “Let’s see. This entry was written the next day.” She added, “Look, she did a drawing. She was a pretty good artist.” She studied the pencil drawing for a moment. “It’s Amos. She made a sketch here of Amos,” she said, passing the book around for everyone to see.
“He looks sorta like Harry Potter,” Iris said.
“Yeah,” Colbi agreed, “only older and his hair’s longer and kinda straggly. He does wear those Harry Potter glasses, though.” She handed the journal back to Savannah. “So what happened next?” she asked.
Savannah read: Amos is gone—missing. And everyone’s looking for him because they believe he’s a serial killer. This morning, they made a gruesome discovery. A teardrop trailer where a couple of college kids slept alongside the river upstream was ransacked and there was evidence of an attack, although no bodies were found. The boys are missing and believed dead. They’re pretty sure the murder weapon was a hammer. I’m just sick; so is Frank. He’s been helping in the search. When he returned this afternoon, he was carrying something hidden. He’d taken off his shirt and wrapped it up. He wouldn’t tell me what it was and immediately went to the basement with it.
I’m terrified that it’s a body part or maybe he bought or borrowed a gun and doesn’t want me to know. When Frank left again to help in the search, I went down in the basement to see what he was hiding from me. I never found his shirt or whatever he might have hidden inside it. I guess I’ll have to shop for more of those lightweight plaid flannel shirts he likes.
I’m not alone today. If I were, I’d probably be hiding under the bed. They’ve left guards here in case Amos comes back. They found an abandoned skiff caught up in debris at the mouth of the river. Some think Amos was in that skiff and that, when it got caught, he fell into the lake and was washed down the falls into the raging waters. That last big rain and the melting snowpack have seriously impacted the flow of the river. They have a large search party out looking for him and the two missing men.
I’m crying as I write this—it’s hard to see the page through my tears. And I have to be honest. I hope to heaven that Amos has drowned. I hate, hate, hate that my child has anything from the gene pool that created the likes of Amos Sledge.
“That poor, tortured woman,” Colbi said, after an exaggerated silence. “I’ll bet that was the last time she ever came up here.” She turned to Iris, “Do you know whatever became of Craig’s parents?”
Iris tilted her head. “It seems to me Craig said his father died of a heart attack and his mother died soon after, in a nursing home. She had a stroke.”
“Probably from the stress of what happened that night at this cabin,” Colbi offered.
“I’m surprised Ellen didn’t burn the place down,” Margaret said, shaking her head.
“Well, it appears that she did her best to protect others from the evil she sensed here.”
“Do you mean by using the sage and salt,” Savannah asked.
Iris nodded.
“I wonder if they ever found Amos or his body,” Savannah said quietly. “Didn’t sound like it from what that old guy at the café said.” She turned to Iris. “So Craig has never mentioned anything to you about Amos?”
Iris shook her head. “But you’d better be sure I’m going to ask him. Ewww, gives me the creeps.”
“It didn’t sound like Craig was ever up here when Amos was—at least when the cousins were young adults.”
“Yeah, but from what Ellen says, he had some interactions with him when he was a kid.”
“How old would Amos be now?” Colbi asked. “Let’s see…what, around seventy? He could actually be living in a homeless community. He would probably blend right in.”
Iris was quiet for a moment, then said to Savannah and Margaret, “Maybe that’s who opened the door to your room last night and let the cats in.”
Colbi began laughing rather hysterically. “Or he was the one running across your beds.”
“Geez, Louise…” Margaret said. “Don’t do that, you guys.”
“What?”
“Scare me like that.”
Just then, the cats roared into the room from the guest bedroom. Rags jumped up onto the black vinyl chair and poked his head between the drape panels. He then dove off the chair, ran to the kitchen, jumped onto the counter, and peered out that window. In the meantime, Dolly sat and watched the larger cat, her ears twitching from side to side as if she were listening intently to something.
“Wind,” Colbi said. “I think I hear the wind blowing through the trees.” She jumped up and quickly turned off the lamp, then peeked out through the heavy drapes.
“What do you see?” Margaret asked. “Is it windy?”
“No,” she said rather quietly, “but it is raining.”
Suddenly, Rags jumped down off the counter and ran to the front door, reaching up and pawing on it.
“Oh, he probably sees a chipmunk or a raccoon out there,” Savannah said. “Pay him no mind. What do you say we eat? Are your biscuits done, Auntie?”
Margaret left her place on the sofa and headed for the kitchen. “Should be. Get out your jam, Vannie,”
“Shall we sit around the table like civilized folks tonight?” Iris asked.
Making eye contact with everyone else in the room, Margaret said, “Naw, let’s be naughty and rowdy and take our plates in next to the fire like hobos.”
“Rowdy like hobos?” Colbi repeated. “Oh, Maggie, you’re too much.” She wrapped her arms around her. “I’m so glad you came along. You’re a kick.”
“A kick am I?” she said, chuckling. “Well, thanks, I think.”
After the women had finished their meal and washed the dishes, Iris said, “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m tired.”
“The mountain air will do that to you, but will we be able to sleep?” Colbi asked, hesitantly.
“Yeah, that sure wasn’t much of a bedtime story, was it?” Savannah said. “I doubt I’ll sleep a wink.”
“I’ll see if I can find you a hammer to keep you company,” Iris said, laughing loudly.
“I want to move,” Margaret said, unsmiling.
“What?”
“Out of that room. Can I sleep on this sofa? Now that I know what I know, I don’t think I can go to sleep in there.”
Savannah looked at her aunt. “Me, too. Iris, is it okay if we bring the blankets off the beds in here?”
She shrugged. “Be my guest.”
As Margaret and Savannah entered the guest room to get their things, the cats both rushed in behind them and jumped up onto Margaret’s bed. “I won’t fight you for it tonight, guys,” Margaret said. “It’s all yours.”
“Oh, Auntie, don’t you know they’ll be in bed with us in the living room tonight? It isn’t the bed they want; it’s the bed with a warm body in it.”
Margaret covered her eyes and squealed, “Don’t talk about bodies. Creeps me out!”
“Sorry,” Savannah said, laughing a little. After carrying her blankets into the living room, she went back for her suitcase. “Oh, I almost forgot to give you your present, Iris,” Savannah said, returning with her bag and a small box wrapped in red paper with cats on it. “Shall we have a little birthday party before night-night time?”
“Night-night,” Margaret mimicked. “You sound like Lily.”
Savannah chuckled. “Yeah, my vocabulary has reverted back some since I became a mommy.”
“Don’t worry,” Iris said, “She’ll be teaching you some new words once she gets in school.”
Savannah rolled her eyes. “Yes, I suppose she will.” She scooted her suitcase
out of the way with one foot, placed her gift on the coffee table, and headed for the kitchen. “Wait,” she called, “I brought a cake.”
“You did?” Iris asked, wide-eyed.
As Savannah pulled a small bakery box out of the refrigerator, she said, “Dang, I forgot candles.”
“Here’s one,” Colbi said, picking up a large decorative candle in a jar. She lit it, then held it toward Iris. “Make a wish.”
“Wait, we have to sing the birthday song,” Margaret reminded them.
After enduring a loud round of “Happy Birthday,” mostly off key, Iris blew out the candle. Then Savannah cut the cake and served it.
“Open your presents,” Margaret said, placing a small gift bag on the table in front of her.
“Mine first,” Colbi said, handing Iris a blue box with a large white bow.
“I gave you mine first, so open it first,” Savannah reasoned.
“How about opening the prettiest one,” Colbi said.
“Better draw numbers,” Margaret suggested.
“Thanks you guys,” Iris said, smiling. “I didn’t expect gifts.” She giggled. “I love surprises…and presents.”
After watching Iris look from one gift to another, Margaret said again, “You’d better draw numbers.”
“Or we could hide the gifts and you can go on a treasure hunt,” Colbi said.
Iris grabbed Margaret’s gift. “Oh, you guys. I’m going to open this one.” However, just as she began to peer into the bag, Rags tore into the room again, leaped onto Iris’s lap and up onto the back of the sofa where he sat staring at the front door.
“Now what?” Savannah asked. “Are there more chipmunks out there—raccoons?” She started to reach for Rags, but he jumped down and headed for the front door, where he stopped and looked up at it.
Knock. Knock. Knock. “Help me, please!”
“What the…” Margaret said, her eyes wide.
Iris glanced at the others and whispered, “Who’s that?”
“Sounds like a woman,” Savannah surmised.
“Should we answer the door?” Colbi asked, glancing around at the others.
“Sure, go on,” Iris said, shrinking back into the sofa a little.
“It’s your house,” Colbi reminded her.
Savannah stood. “Okay, we’ll all go.”
Margaret balked. “Let’s get a weapon, first”
“A weapon?” Iris hissed. “What weapon?”
Margaret thought about it for a moment, then raced into the kitchen and returned with an eight-inch cast-iron skillet. Holding it up menacingly, she said, “This ought to do it.”
Knock, knock, knock. “Please!” came the voice again.
“Okay, come on,” Iris urged. “You in front with that…weapon, Maggie.” She steered Colbi toward the door and stood behind her. Savannah walked up next to Iris.
“Well, open it,” Savannah said. When no one reached for the knob, Savannah wriggled her way between Colbi and Margaret, unlocked the bolts, and opened the door. What she saw sent shivers down her spine.
“Let me come in, please,” the young woman begged, glancing nervously behind her.
“Oh, sorry,” Savannah said, nudging Margaret and Colbi aside. As Iris stepped back, Rags suddenly made a move toward the door. “No you don’t,” Savannah said, grabbing the cat and retreating into the room with the others.
“Please come in,” Iris said, her voice faltering.
Colbi pointed. “You’re…you’re the missing woman from the bay area! I published your picture with the article I wrote.” She glanced out into the darkness before quickly closing the door and locking it. “You aren’t being followed, are you?”
The slightly built woman, who stood about five foot six, shook her head, her loose dark curls moving from side to side. “I don’t think so. I’m sure they were asleep when I left.”
“They? More than one person grabbed you?”
She nodded. She took a few steps toward the fireplace and collapsed onto the green sofa next to it. Savannah quickly turned Rags loose and rushed to her side, along with Iris, who said, “She’s freezing. We’d better get her out of those wet clothes. Do any of you have something she can wear?”
“I have a pair of sweatpants,” Colbi offered.
Savannah walked to where she’d left her suitcase. “I might have an extra sweatshirt. I was going to wear it tomorrow.” When the pair returned with the dry clothes, the woman said weakly, “Thank you so much. I really appreciate your kindness.”
Colbi nodded. “Let’s take your shoes off. My gosh, you’re wearing ballet slippers and they’re soaking wet.”
“Those aren’t ballet slippers, Colbi,” Iris corrected.
“Well, practically. They’re sure not made for hiking.”
Savannah reached for the shoes as Colbi removed them and she placed them on the hearth. She touched the woman’s ankles. “You should get out of those tights, too. They’re soaked.”
“I’ll heat some water for tea,” Margaret said, heading for the kitchen. “Tea always warms me.”
Iris grinned. “Whiskey warms me. Do we have any left?” She looked at their guest. “Which do you prefer?”
“Tea sounds wonderful. Thank you.”
“Oh no,” Margaret said, from the kitchen.
“What?” the others asked.
She motioned to Savannah, who rushed to join her. “Someone will have to sleep in the scary room,” she whispered. “We only have two sofas out there. Hey, she doesn’t know about that Amos guy—let’s give her that room.” She grinned. “She’ll think we’re being hospitable and generous.”
“Who says she’s spending the night here?” Savannah said quietly. “She might need medical attention.”
Margaret put her hands on her hips. “And how are we going to get that, pray tell?”
Unable to respond and unwilling to entertain the question, Savannah returned to the woman and, alongside Colbi, helped her change her clothes. After spreading the wet clothes next to the fire, Savannah dug out a pair of her slipper socks and watched the woman slip them on. She then pulled a blanket over her. “Better?” she asked.
“You’re the missing woman from the Bay area—Ann Schultz, right?” Colbi asked.
The woman looked at Colbi and nodded.
Immediately, the others began asking, “How did you…?”
“Who…?”
“Were you…?”
Savannah put up her hand. “Give her some space, ladies. Come on, let’s not interrogate her.”
“Yeah,” Colbi agreed. “Can’t you see she’s been through a lot already? Let’s let her catch her breath.”
Ann eased up to a sitting position and reached out to Colbi. “Can you call someone for me?”
“Well, we oughtta be calling the police,” Margaret said, “but there’s no service up here.”
“No service?” Ann said, as if the wind had been knocked out of her.
Iris shook her head. “Only on the other side of the lake.” She focused on Savannah. “Maybe one of us should row over there and make the call.”
Savannah winced. “You said sometimes you get service here—you said it’s hit and miss. Try it, Iris.”
“Yeah, good idea,” Margaret agreed.
“I’ll try, too,” Colbi offered, reaching for her phone.
After several minutes, Iris said, “It’s no use. No signal, no signal, that’s all we get, no matter where we stand.”
“How about outside?” Savannah suggested. “Take your phones outside and see if you can get through.”
Iris scowled at Savannah. “Easy for you to say.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s dark and creepy out there.”
“Yeah,” Colbi agreed, shivering, “and rainy.”
“Okay then, Auntie and I’ll go out and try with our phones.”
Margaret glowered. “We will?”
“Yeah, get your jacket and
your phone.” She turned to Iris. “Did I see some umbrellas down in the basement?” Once she’d found an umbrella that worked, she grabbed her aunt’s arm. “Let’s go.”
“But Vannie,” Margaret whined.
“Come on, it’s important.”
Ann took a sip of the tea Margaret had served her and swallowed. “Yes, it is. I’d sure appreciate it. I don’t know when those creeps will notice I’m gone…” she said, wiping at her eyes.
Margaret stared at Ann for a moment, then said, “Okay,” as she donned her jacket and pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Let’s get it over with.”
Within minutes, the two of them returned and went straight to the fire to warm their hands.
“Any luck?” Colbi asked eagerly.
Savannah shook her head. “No service.” She sighed deeply and looked at Ann. “If we want to reach authorities tonight, we’ll have to do as Iris said and row across the lake to make the call.”
“Oh please,” she said. “Those guys are bound to find me. Please, that’s my only chance.”
“Who are they, anyway?” Colbi asked. “What do they want with you?”
Ann grimaced. She brushed a wisp of hair from her face while avoiding eye-contact with Colbi. “I’m not sure. I think they plan to kill me and hide my body. You know, people go missing up here, never to be found again.” When she started to cry, Colbi kneeled next to her.
“Ann, do you know where they are?”
“Uh…not exactly. They move around. They were keeping me in a van and we never stayed at one camping spot for very long. Tonight, they decided to take a boat across the lake to get more beer. That’s how I was able to get away from them.”
“How far do you think they are from here?” Savannah asked.
“I don’t know,” she said shaking her head. “I walked and walked and walked until I found lights. I could have been walking in circles, for all I know. They might be a block away or a mile, I’m just not sure.”
