There seemed to be no motive.
No suspects.
No murder weapon.
Even the cause of death was a mystery.
None of it made sense.
When you had a murder with no apparent motive or suspects you had to go back to the basics. You either spent more time at the crime scene, hoping to spot something that had been overlooked, or you went back to the witness or witnesses.
His men had covered the crime scene pretty comprehensively. Of that, he was sure. He had been there before Jimmy's soccer match this morning again, just to make sure. There was only one thing left for Troy to do, and that was follow the only lead he had. He had to speak to Eleanor Kraye again.
His mind made up, he looked over at his sleeping son. Jimmy looked peaceful and worry-free in his sleep. Even the swelling around his eyes had gone down. The stitching was done and there was no apparent internal bleeding. He was patched up and now he just needed to recuperate. Doc Black had said the anesthetic would wear off in an hour or two.
He looked at Melissa, who was trying to read a book, looked at Jimmy, for a second, looked out the window, back at Melissa, then back at Jimmy.
“Go,” Melissa said, peering over the top of her reading glasses. “He's fine now,”
His wife knew him so well. She knew he had work on his mind, and unlike most other husbands, his work was always important.
“Just come back the moment he wakes up,” she said, looking fondly at their son.
“Promise,” Troy said standing up, adjusting the holster on his hip. “Call me when he does.”
He bent over and kissed her quickly on the forehead.
“I'll be back before you know it.”
He rang the doorbell.
As crazy as it was, Troy had to get Eleanor to talk about the invisible man. If it wasn't for Jimmy's incident and the subsequent threat, he would never have considered something like this. But here it was. His cards were on the table. He had a shitty hand, but he was hoping to do something about it.
Eleanor opened the door and Troy was surprised to see two teenagers with her. According to her records, she didn't have any siblings. The cousins she had were all older than her.
“I'll see you later girls,” she offered as farewell as the teenagers squeezed past Troy in the doorway. They offered brief greetings as they walked past.
“Hi, Sheriff,” she said, hand extended.
Troy took the offered hand and shook it.
“Friends of yours?” he asked.
“Next door neighbor and her friend,” Eleanor answered, beckoning him in. “They saw Deputy Giles parked outside last night and were worried. I had them over for brunch. They're good kids.”
“Rosewater, right?” Troy said as he watched the girls walk towards the Prouza mansion.
“Right,” Eleanor nodded. “Her friend is Charlene Miller from the city. They've been friends ever since kindergarten.”
Troy nodded. “The Prouzas moved here about five years ago?”
“Yes,” Eleanor answered. “I don't see much of Rosewater's parents, but I get along well with RW and Charlene,” she added. “Can I offer you something to drink?” she asked, leading him through the foyer and into the living room.
“No, thanks,” he said. “I just wanted to find out how you're doing.”
Eleanor nodded and beckoned him to sit.
“I'm doing fine, thanks.”
“Sleep okay? Did Doctor Black's prescription help?”
Something flicked across her eyes, like a shadow. It was the mention of the doctor's name. Eleanor didn't look at him when she answered.
“I didn't need them in the end.” She smiled, eventually returning his gaze. “I guess I was so tired that I just passed out on the bed, clothes and all.”
“And you're feeling fine?”
“Yes,” she looked him straight in the eye for that answer.
“Good,” Troy took a second, wondering how he was to approach the elephant in the room. In the end, he went for the direct approach. “Tell me about the man you saw yesterday.”
“Again?” she said.
Troy shook his head. “Not the first encounter. Not what you said in the statement. I'm talking about the second time you saw him.”
Eleanor blinked.
“The time when I couldn't see him and you were ready to shoot again.”
“That, uhm,” Eleanor faltered, “didn't happen.”
“I'm convinced you saw something but you don't want to share it with me or anyone else for fear of ridicule. And I can understand that. So before you point blank refuse, let me tell you what happened to my son today.”
For the next few minutes Troy explained in great detail what happened to his son and how there was no explanation for it.
“Will you tell me now?” he begged.
Eleanor was conflicted. Should she tell him about Jöanth? Ease his pain and suffering and doubt a little? She quickly came to a conclusion. It wasn't her place to tell him about Jöanth. She would leave that up to the álvur to decide.
“I need time to think, Sheriff.” she said. “Can you give me a day or two to gather my thoughts? All I can say is that I saw the man the second time, yes. But I can't explain how you couldn't see him. I don't even know if I saw him myself. I need to think it through. Process it all?”
“Sure,” he said, standing up, ready to leave. “But the bottom line is,” he paused and made sure she was looking at him. “You saw him, and I couldn't. Right?”
Eleanor nodded. Then shook her head. “I'm not sure, okay?”
Eleanor could see the disappointment on his face, but he didn't push the envelope.
“I just hope it is clarity that you find,” he said, holding out his hand.
Eleanor took the extended hand and was shocked when he held on and asked a question.
“Was everything okay with Doctor Black?”
She almost pulled her hand back at the mention of the doctor's name, their strange parting from the night before still fresh in her memory despite her good night's sleep and the day's passing sun.
“Uhm, sure,” she stammered. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” he said, but she could see he was fishing for something. Something was bothering him. “I just wondered if he looked okay to you. He seemed a little off when I saw him this morning. As if he was perhaps sick.”
Something was off with him, all right, Eleanor thought.
She didn't know how to put it into words, though. There was nothing concrete, just a feeling she had. And then there was Jöanth's reaction to the doctor as well. She tried her best to hide these thoughts, but she felt that the wily lawman had set a trap for her and she had blundered into it.
Troy smiled at her and headed for the door, letting himself out. He paused on the porch and looked at her.
“You call me when you're ready,” he said, his intensity boring into her. “Not only do I have a killer to catch, but someone hurt my boy and I don't know how. If you can help, I will be eternally grateful.”
Without waiting for an answer, Sheriff Troy Troger walked off, got in his Sheriff's Department SUV and drove off. Eleanor wondered how much she could trust a man of the law, especially with something as fantastical as Jöanth and a svartálvur.
CHAPTER 40
On a hunch, Troy set off for home. On the way, he phoned Melissa to check in. Jimmy was still sleeping soundly.
“Good. You okay to stay with him, honey?” Troy asked. “I have some things to do, but you phone me the minute he wakes up.”
“I will. Love you,” she said, understanding the responsibilities of a small-town sheriff.
“Love you, too,” he said and broke the connection.
He parked the county SUV in his driveway, quickly ran inside and changed into civvies, planted a baseball cap on his head, ran back to the garage and took out his own car. He had a hunch. His gut was telling him that Eleanor knew more than she was letting on and that he should keep an eye on her
. A quick ten minute drive and he was on her street again.
Upper Havensford was a beautiful neighborhood that bordered on the Pootatuck State Forest. On the Kraye and Prouza side of the street, the properties all backed out onto the forest. This was the residential area to live in and afforded the residents a beautiful view of the town in the valley below with Gillamere Hill at the back.
He parked his car across the street, a house up from the Prouzas, which afforded him a view of Eleanore's front door. Instinct told him he had to keep an eye on her. With all the craziness over the last couple of days, he thought it best to trust his gut, rather than rely on his intellect. Thinking of all of it from a rational perspective would get him nowhere. He knew he was in unfamiliar territory and his best way to weather the storm would be to follow his instincts.
“What do you think?” Eleanor asked Jöanth.
“He seems like a good man,” Jöanth answered. “But I have had trouble with lawmen before. Some are bureaucrats and follow the book. If he is one of those then we cannot count on him to be an ally. Also, some people are just not built to have their whole world shaken. You saw Charlene's reaction this morning.”
Eleanor nodded. “We should have approached that differently,” she said, angry with herself.
They hadn't meant to scare her like that. Eleanor had actually thought that Charlene might get a kick out of Jöanth's disappearing trick. Instead of delight, there was shock and anger. The episode in the train and the whispering box had obviously left her shaken.
“I need to see that box,” Jöanth interjected, as if reading her thoughts.
She tested her theory by thinking of a cat on a penny-farthing on a high rope surrounded by flying, yapping Chihuahuas. Jöanth didn't even blink.
“Not now,” she answered. “We need to see if we can find the svartálvur before he hurts anyone else.”
“You think it hurt the sheriff's boy?”
“Who else could it be?” Eleanor asked.
Jöanth shrugged. “There are many possible creatures that can turn invisible,” he stated as matter of fact, “but in this instance, I think you are correct. It cannot be a coincidence.”
“Your radar pinging?” Eleanor asked.
“Faintly,” Jöanth nodded.
“Let's drive around. Perhaps we just need to close the distance on it.”
Jöanth nodded. “Very well. Let us go.”
Troy watched as Eleanor backed a Honda Civic out of her garage. She looked briefly up and down the street and then drove past him. She was animatedly speaking to someone, stealing glances at the passenger seat as she drove past.
A passenger seat that was empty.
He followed the woman to the nearest gas station, where she filled up and swiped her card, and then she randomly started driving around, as if she was conducting a search. Her driving was haphazard and often crossed back over the same ground. This was definitely not a coordinated grid-based search.
Maybe she was just driving around, talking to her imaginary friend. It didn't make sense. Nothing of the last two days seemed to make sense.
Troy ran through it all in his head again and realized he could pinpoint when the weirdness had begun.
It all started on Thursday morning when Fred Raimy called him out to his farm, two miles south west of town. Something had torn up one of his sheep. Sheep weren't common in these parts, which made the call an important one to Fred. On inspection, Troy found a mauled carcass, buzzing with flies, despite the plastic tarpaulin Fred had spread over it. Eyes, tongue, brain and soft organs had been missing. Troy promised to get Animal Control and the Parks Board involved, and had passed it over to them.
Then calls started coming in about missing pets from Friday morning. Four cats, two small dogs, one a big old Labrador, and several pet rabbits. None of them were found, except for the remains of what could have been a cat on the outskirts of Bear Mountain on Thursday morning.
Then yesterday afternoon, Sam was killed. Eleanor was shooting at ghosts and this morning, a ghost seemed to have attacked his son.
Ghost? Specter? Malevolent spirit? Entity? Monster? Invisible man? A rational man shouldn't be having these thoughts, Troy scolded himself. Especially not one in law enforcement.
But what else could it be?
There was no rational explanation for what had happened to his son.
No one had been near Jimmy. One referee and a couple of kids were the only ones on the field. So, what rational explanation could there possibly be?
These thoughts kept milling about his head, when Eleanor pulled into Farson Road for the third time. She slowed down to a crawl and Troy was surprised when she eventually stopped. She put the car in reverse and backed up, looking at one house in particular.
It was a familiar house. Troy had visited it before. It belonged to an old friend.
Eleanor Kraye had stopped and turned her car off in front of Doctor Walther Black's house.
The day just kept getting weirder.
CHAPTER 41
“What do you think?” Eleanor asked looking up at the old two-story Colonial.
Jöanth shook his head slightly. He wasn't convinced and said as such.
“This is the strongest it's been, but it is still weak.”
He looked at the house as if he had x-ray vision, which he didn't. Eleanor had asked.
“I cannot be sure, but this might be its lair.”
“Oh, shit,” Eleanor breathed as the front door opened and Walther Black emerged.
He was looking directly at her. He couldn't have missed her if he had been twenty years older with cataracts in his eyes. Her window was open, the sun was behind his house, there were no obstructions and only thirty or so yards between them.
Drive off? Get out? What do I do? Eleanor panicked.
The doctor waved, made his way off his porch and was at her side before she could decide on a course of action.
“Eleanor,” he greeted jovially enough. “How nice to see you! Have you come to visit?” he asked bending down, now eye to eye with her.
“Hi, Doc,” Eleanor's brain was racing at a million miles an hour. “Just driving around. It's such a lovely day,” she said looking at the blue sky. There wasn't a cloud in sight. “After what happened yesterday,” she shrugged, “I think I won't be taking walks for a while. But I just had to get out of the house, so,” she trailed off, her arms in the air as if in surrender.
“I'm glad you're getting out,” the doctor said.
He still had the smile on his face. It looked genuine and warm enough, but it didn't seem to reach his eyes. He looked at the passenger seat, a slight frown on his face.
“It's no good sitting in a house all day,” he continued conversationally. “Getting out is healthy, but I suggest taking some company with. Or visiting with friends. We sometimes need to get our minds off the things that trouble us.”
“I agree. Thanks Doc. I don't want to keep you,” she said starting the engine. “Like I said, I was just cruising around and came upon your street. I remember the address from the card you gave me and was just curious to see where you lived.”
Walther Black smiled and for a split second, it seemed to Eleanor as if his smile stretched a little wider than it should have.
“Would you like to come inside?” he asked, reaching for the door handle.
“Oh, no, no.” Eleanor said quickly, instinctively reaching for the door lock mechanism and engaging it.
Only after the doors clicked super loudly, did she realize the futility of it with her open window. She risked a nervous glance towards Jöanth and noticed that he was sitting with the broadsword in hand. She was impressed with his stealth. She hadn't heard, nor felt any movement from his side.
“Got to get going, Doc,” Eleanor offered in way of greeting and pulled off.
As an afterthought, she extended her hand out the window and waved gaily, pretending that nothing was wrong and that the doctor hadn't spooked her again.
He di
dn't wave back and just stood on the sidewalk, watching her drive off until she disappeared around a corner.
“Oh, my...” She stopped herself before continuing, knowing that Jöanth would not approve of any form of blasphemy. Would he chop off my head, she wondered weirdly. Once again, she was surprised at how creative her mind had become over the last couple of days.
“That was intense! Or was it just me?” she said as she stopped the car in front of a pretty Dutch Colonial, checking the rearview mirror.
Whoever lived here loved their landscaping. The front lawn was speckled with plant beds of iris and gladiola. They were magnificent islands of purple, blue, red, peach, yellow, and orange.
“No,” Jöanth agreed. “It was not just you. There is something seriously wrong with the doctor.” Jöanth shook his head. “I still can't get a read on him, except that something is wrong.”
“Something is off,” Eleanor chipped in.
“Exactly. I do not know if he is a type of creature I have not encountered before.”
“You don't think he is the svartálvur?”
“I do not know. My senses picked up a scent, but it is not nearly as strong as it should have been. The trail led here, but I don't know. Perhaps he is a familiar.”
“A familiar?”
“A servant of the svartálvur. One that also possesses some form of power. That would explain why I am picking up something of the svartálvur at the doctor's house and from the doctor himself,” Jöanth didn't look convinced though. “However,” he paused. “I am not entirely certain this is the case. I have never heard of a svartálvur having a familiar. It has never been recorded before.”
“Would the svartálvur be able to change shape?” Eleanor asked.
“I have also thought of this,” Jöanth admitted. “It would explain perhaps why I cannot get a read on Doctor Black and why I cannot get a fix on the svartálvur. However, it is quite impossible,” he shook his head as if the mere thought was absurd, “as álvur we cannot change our appearance. The closest type of enchantment we have is the ability to cloak ourselves from most creatures. Svartálvur are still genetically the same as álvur, except for some physical changes. We cannot change our DNA.” He seemed to think about this for a while. “I have not heard of the shape shifting ability to be inherited somehow, except by passing it down from one generation to the next.”
Stirring Embers: An urban fantasy action adventure (The Light and the Void Book 1) Page 28
