Deadly Communications

by Lillian Duncan

  “Hey, your lip moved. You really are getting better.”

  “God is good.”

  “All the time.” He smiled.

  15

  Maven opened her eyes, but immediately squeezed them shut again. I can get through the next two days. I can. I can.

  Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. The two hardest days of the year for a widow.

  Even worse than her wedding anniversary—most people didn’t know the significance of that date. But Christmas—nobody forgot about that date. It was all about family and loved ones. And she was alone. Pulling the covers over her head, she curled up in a ball. “I’ll just stay in bed all day.”

  No, you won’t. It was her husband’s voice in her mind. Ken had loved Christmas. Still do. Big doings around here today. And you should see the Christmas tree here! Not to mention the birthday cake!

  “Very funny.” Would she ever stop hearing Ken telling her the things she didn’t want to know? She removed the covers and sat up.

  It was a start.

  

  Regretting her self-pity, Maven wished she’d gone out and made the day happier for someone. There was no shortage of people she could have made smile that day—orphans; hospital patients; nursing home residents; even Lizzie. She would have been thrilled for Maven to show up and visit for a few minutes.

  Instead, she sat on her sofa staring at the tiny Christmas tree. The first since her husband had died. Even small, it had spirit as the lights sparkled on and off, highlighting the even tinier manger scene in front of it.

  Tonight, she would bake some Christmas cookies and then take them to the hospital tomorrow. She smiled, feeling better already. Checking her watch, she still had time to get the store to buy ingredients for the cookies.

  Later that day, she pulled back into her garage from the trip to the grocery store.

  “Oh, there you are.” Paul smiled. “I’ve called you three times today. I was just about to break in to your house.”

  “That’s illegal.” Maven stepped out of the car and went to her trunk.

  He grinned. “What’s all this stuff?”

  “I decided I’d make some cookies tonight. Then I’ll take them to the hospital and maybe a few of the nursing homes tomorrow.”

  “That’s a great idea.” He picked up three bags and left one for her.

  Maven slammed the trunk after getting the last bag. “Well, I’m trying to think about other people for a change.”

  He held the screen door open while she unlocked the door. “And I’ll help you with that as soon as we get back from church.”

  She walked through the open door and put her bag on the counter. “Church? I don’t think so. I’m not quite ready for that yet.”

  He placed his own bags on the counter. “And you never will be. You just have to do it anyway. Believe me, Maven. I know what I’m talking about.”

  “I know you do. It’s just so hard, especially on holidays.”

  He nodded.

  “I’m surprised you aren’t up with your kids.”

  “We celebrated last weekend. I volunteered at work so some of those with families could have the day off.”

  “You are such a good guy.”

  “Yes, I am. Now, let’s go. Church and then baking. Not to mention the homemade lasagna my daughter baked for me, which is now sitting in my refrigerator. How can you resist that?”

  She stared down at the floor, struggling with her decision. She knew it was the right thing to do. It was time to stop being angry at God, but it felt disloyal to her husband to celebrate without him.

  But I’m celebrating the day without you.

  She looked up into Paul’s sweet blue eyes. “How can I resist, indeed?”

  16

  Help me

  Monsters

  Need help

  Maven stared at the computer monitor and the e-mail messages. A chill traveled up her spine as she read the words again.

  The message was from Ella. The girl must still be having nightmares. It was clear that Ella still had difficulties communicating, even more so when writing. And yet she had gone to great effort to do so. Ella didn’t sound as if she was having fun at the resort. It had probably been too soon for her to leave home. And now Ella was asking for help.

  What could Maven do? She didn’t want to abandon the girl. Maven hit the reply icon and started typing.

  Ella,

  I’m sorry you’re still having nightmares, but let me assure you that it’s perfectly normal to have them. And it’s probably not easy leaving home for the first time since your accident.

  Just enjoy yourself at the spa. I’ll e-mail you again in a few days. ~ Maven

  She hit the send button, and then started scanning her other email. A moment later, a beep indicated a new email. The subject said—mail returned; not deliverable.

  How could that be? Ella had only sent her the e-mail the day before. Why didn’t her e-mail account exist now?

  It was as if someone didn’t want Ella to communicate with anybody now that she could express her thoughts and ideas. Was there something nefarious about what happened the night of her accident?

  Maven and Paul had discussed the possibility, but neither of them had taken it too seriously. Perhaps, they should have.

  Maven paced around her apartment, pretending to clean. She was worried. She supposed she could call Sandra and ask for her number. Just to check in and see how Ella was doing. That wouldn’t be odd, would it?

  

  “I think you’re overreacting, Maven.” Paul’s voice was calm.

  “I don’t think I am. Look at the message. She’s asking for my help. I can’t just ignore that.” Maven held up the paper. “Don’t you think I should help her?”

  “Help her, how? Help her, why? You even said considering her telegraphic language pattern, one word could mean a multitude of things. ‘Help me’ might really be her thanking you for helping her. Right?”

  She hated it when Paul turned her own words back on her. “I suppose it’s possible, but then thanks would be a better choice of words, not help me.”

  “In your mind but maybe not hers. What did you tell me about the telegraphic speech?”

  “It’s just like when a child is learning to talk. Doggy can mean a dog, but it might also mean any animal with four legs. It might mean ‘where is my doggy?’ or it could mean ‘I like doggies.’”

  “So, help me’ could mean a multitude of things, right? And I don’t really see what you can do, anyway. You said her e-mail account isn’t working.”

  “I just have a bad feeling. Think about it. I ask a few questions and suddenly they don’t need me anymore, and Ella is sent away. They won’t even let me see her to say good-bye.”

  Paul gave her a look but she kept talking. “It’s almost as if they want her to stop communicating now that she can. Then this e-mail. Something is wrong, I know it.”

  “It’s a little strange. But there really isn’t much you can do about it. She’s an adult.”

  “What about the fact her e-mail account was closed?”

  “Just a coincidence. She left, so they closed down her account.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why would they close the account? I would think they would want to keep it open so they could keep in contact with her.”

  “You told me why yourself.”

  She didn’t remember telling him any such thing. “I did?”

  “You did. You said she was really struggling to express herself in writing. It’s probably too frustrating for her to write to them. They shut down the account so she wouldn’t have to feel like she should e-mail them.”

  “Oh…that makes sense. Sort of.”

  “They’re just trying to keep her stress-free. So she can focus on getting stronger.”

  “Why do you have to make so much sense?”

  17

  Maven hung up the phone, not happy with the conversation with Sandra
Decker.

  As gracious as always, it was obvious that Sandra did not want Maven meddling in her life or Ella’s. And Sandra also made it clear that Maven would not be getting any information about Ella, her whereabouts, or how to contact her. When she’d asked for a phone number, Sandra had said in the sweetest voice that the resort didn’t have phones in the room, but that she’d give Ella the message to call Maven.

  Harrumph.

  Everything was wonderful before she asked questions about the accident. After the questions, her services were suddenly no longer needed, and her access to Ella disappeared. Maven’s stomach twisted as she thought back to the e-mail message.

  Over the years, she’d learned to trust the Holy Spirit’s guidance—the hard way. Despite being angry with God about Ken’s death, she’d always relied on that instinct God had given her when she worked with troubled children. When she had peace about a situation, that was good. When she didn’t have peace, that was not good.

  Uneasiness filled her being.

  The Holy Spirit was telling her something was wrong with Ella. She hadn’t been close with God for a while, but that had changed. The Lord was back in charge of her life.

  Maven stared out the window at the ever-deepening snow, glad she didn’t have anywhere to go that day.

  Paul and the other emergency personnel would be very busy today. Freezing rain, ice, and snow made for a bad day for the police.

  She was troubled but not by the weather. Dropping the curtain, she walked over to the computer desk and sat down.

  Sandra had mentioned the name of the place Ella was going when she’d informed Maven that her services were no longer needed. It hadn’t seemed important at the time. After sitting with her hands poised over the keyboard for more than ten minutes, Maven gave up. Think about something else and then, I’ll remember.

  She said a little prayer and then started cleaning everything in sight: cupboards, refrigerator, stove, even the closets didn’t escape her organizing capabilities. Hours later, she stared at her basement door. She was too tired to think about cleaning the basement. Instead, she plopped on the sofa with the remote.

  She deserved a reward for all that hard work.

  Flipping through the channels, she came across a documentary about the Colorado River. Something clicked.

  River Gorge Ranch. That was the name Sandra had told her.

  Maven went back to the computer and typed in the name of the spa. She stared at the results of the search. Apparently, a lot of folks thought River Gorge Ranch was a good name for a spa and fitness center. In a lot of different states. Colorado. Arizona. New Mexico. Even one in Montana and South Dakota. Who would want to go to a spa in Montana or South Dakota in the middle of winter?

  She clicked on each of the sites to see what they offered, and to see which one might be the best fit for Ella’s needs. What would she say when she called?

  Would it be as easy as asking to speak to Ella Decker?

  The snow kept falling as Maven made phone calls. On-hold music played while she waited. Discouraged, she clicked the phone off, bundled up, and went into the garage. It was time to get the snow blower out.

  Paul would do it, but that would be taking advantage of his kindness.

  Instead, she would dish out some of her own kindness. After forty-five minutes of clearing her sidewalks and those of her neighbors, she went back in. The wind ceased blowing the moment she was out of the weather. Watching as the snow covered up her work, she shook her head and took off her boots.

  Back to the phones.

  With coffee cup in hand, she found where she stopped. It took six more phone calls before she found the right one.

  “River Gorge Ranch.”

  “I’d like to be connected to Ella Decker’s room.”

  “One moment please. Your name?”

  Great. She’d found the right place.

  Several minutes later, the operator was back. “I’m sorry. I can’t connect you. There’s a note that we aren’t to connect callers to her room. If you want to leave a message, she can call you back if she wants.”

  Had they been given instructions to not allow Ella to receive any phone calls? Or was it they didn’t want her talking to Ella.

  Maven sighed. “That would be fine.” After leaving her information, she hung up. She paced around the house waiting for Ella to call back.

  The call never came.

  18

  Two days later, Maven boarded a plane bound for Arizona. Five hours later, she walked into the River Gorge Ranch and Spa.

  The décor was top notch. A huge fountain was the focal point, along with the native plants that decorated the room.

  A handful of people sat on leather sofas talking with each other, laughing and having a good time. All were dressed in workout clothes of one sort or another. The place seemed to be what it purported to be—a resort where people came to rest and relax.

  She walked up to the counter.

  A handsome young man hurried over to her. “Can I help you?”

  “I need Ella Decker’s room number.” After looking at his name tag, she added, “Zack.”

  Zack hit some keys on the keyboard and stared at the monitor. “She’s in room 315.” He pulled out a map. Using his finger, he pointed at a building. “This is the 300 POD. Walk out the back door and turn left. You’ll pass two other PODS and hers will be the third group of buildings. Hence; the reason for calling them 300.”

  “Makes sense. Thanks, Zack.”

  “Not a problem, ma’am.”

  When she walked out the back door, she stopped to soak up the warmth from the sun. It felt good, considering what Ohio was like this time of the year. In front of her was a huge pool. Several people were swimming laps, but the majority looked as if they were only sunbathing.

  Beyond the pool were tennis courts. A few brave souls were enduring the heat to play.

  The resort was purported to have a golf course, but Maven didn’t see that. She followed Zack’s instructions and had no trouble finding the 300 POD or 315.

  She knocked on the door.

  No one answered.

  There was a small garden area with tables and chairs. She sat down and pulled out her electronic tablet. Might as well finish the book she started on the plane. The sun felt good at first, but after two hours, it had ceased feeling anything but hot. Maven made her way back to the air-conditioned lobby.

  Zack was still behind the counter. He smiled as Maven walked up. “Did you find who you were looking for?”

  “No, I didn’t. Do you keep track of where people are?”

  He shook his head. “Not really. They have to sign up for the classes, but other than that, they’re free to come and go as they please. We’re a resort, not a prison.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll have to wander around and look for her, Zack.”

  “Let me check the classes and see if she’s in one. What was her name again?”

  “Ella Decker.”

  After furiously pushing keys, he looked up. “She’s scheduled for a beginner’s spinning class at three in Exercise Room 4.” He pointed towards a hallway.

  “Thanks, Zack.” Maven made her way down the hallway to Exercise Room 4.

  The class was in session as she opened the door and walked in.

  The participants were all furiously pedaling on their stationary bikes. No Ella.

  A young woman made her way over to Maven. “Hi. May I help you?”

  “I was looking for Ella Decker, but I don’t see her.”

  “No, and you won’t. She’s not here. In fact, she missed the morning session as well. It’s not like her at all.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “She had her purse. And the man she was with was quite the hunk.”

  “A man?”

  She nodded as she marched in place.

  “What did he look like?”

  “Good looking. Tall, and sandy blond hair.”

  “Did Ella look upset?”
>
  “I didn’t notice. I was looking at the hunk more than her.”

  

  Why had she left without checking out? Had someone forced her to leave?

  Maven went back to Ella’s room. She stood there looking around at the grounds, wondering what to do. An ache began behind her eyes, and Maven lowered her head, rubbing her temples. To the left of Ella’s door, was a crumpled bit of paper. Maven picked it up, intent on finding a trashcan to throw it away.

  As she touched the paper, her heart thudded, a frisson of dread rolled down her spine and the hair on the back of her neck stood straight up. Maven smoothed out the paper.

  Maven,

  Help me. Help. Monsters. Monster stick.

  Red and silver. Sparks. Sparks. Sparks.

  Need help. Come in.

  Frantic, Maven knocked on the door and was shocked when it swung open. Had it been unlatched before? She’d not knocked hard. She debated about breaking and entering, but Ella’s message, still in her hand, was beating into her head. Come in.

  The room was beautiful. In the corner was a hot tub where Ella could relax and watch TV after a hard day of fun. The drawers were open and still had clothes in them. Ella planned to come back. Or she’d not been allowed to pack up everything?

  Maven walked through the room, searching for something that would explain why Ella had left. She lifted up the mattress. A small, purple electronic tablet laid on the foundation. Maven picked it up and moved to the desk. After several minutes, she finally made it to the e-mail program.

  There was another message addressed to Maven. Her heart thumped as she read it.

  Maven,

  Help me. Help. Monsters. Monster stick.

  Red and silver. Sparks. Sparks. Sparks.

  Help Dream remember Please come

  19

  Maven’s heart thumped as she read and reread the e-mail. The words had an even more ominous feeling than the first message. Ella was trying to tell her something important. Questions swirled. Why hadn’t Ella sent it? Why had she hidden her electronic tablet under her mattress? Someone must have interrupted her before she could send it.