"Hush." He went still, listening intently. After a moment he resumed his instructions. "Everything has been taken care of. In the valise are addresses of two banks in New York where you can stow the bonds, half in each. Don't say a word about them, not to Andras, not to David, not to anyone." His mouth brushed against my cheeks, one then the other. He pulled away to look into my face, concern in his eyes. "We haven't had enough time." He bent his head and kissed me deeply. "No matter. I couldn't love you more if we'd had a lifetime. You are the other half of me." He kissed me again and looked at me, tears in his eyes. "If I survive, I'll find you. Wait for me."
"Forever." I threw myself into his arms and we held desperately to one another until he pushed me away and left the cottage. He walked quickly to Andras. He said a few words and the two men clasped each other in a swift hug. He moved round the caravan into the thicket.
Andras came to the door. "We must go, Clara. Are these your things?" I nodded and he lifted my bag and the valise, carrying them to the caravan and thrusting them inside. He took me by one arm and guided me up the steps and into the caravan. It smelled of cinnamon and wood smoke. "Let me in next to you," he said, and climbed inside, the vehicle swaying with his movements. He picked up the edge of a rug and ran his hand along the corner of the bench beside it. With a metallic click a door opened to a compartment under the floor. "You must get in and you must be silent. Don't use the torch unless I say you may."
I glanced out the door in time to see Duncan cutting a branch from a bush. He began to sweep the ground near the cottage and I realized he was trying to eliminate our tracks. "It must be now, Clara," said Andras.
I lowered myself into the compartment and onto a mattress. Blankets, a flask of water, and a parcel of food were at the edge of the bed alongside the torch. Andras set the bag and the valise at my feet and closed the door above me, enclosing me in darkness but for a tiny bit of light through a crack near my head. I heard the rug as he slid it into place over the trap door. I felt the caravan sway again and imagined Andras climbing onto the seat in front.
The caravan jerked ahead and slowly we began to move forward. I shifted to try peering through the crack but could see nothing. I was leaving Duncan and I couldn't see him, couldn't wave to him. Panic swept through me at the thought of never seeing him again. I wanted to scream to him, to demand that Andras let me out of the box, but I clung to what Duncan wanted of me. He would challenge his father and perhaps turn him over to the authorities. If I let myself be vulnerable, it could harm Duncan. The one thing I could do for him was to keep myself safe.
I turned onto my side to look at the light shining through the crack in the wood. I let my tears come silently.
"Goodbye, my love," I whispered. "Goodbye."
Chapter 22
I wept until I fell asleep. When I awoke, I realized we had stopped. I looked for the small bit of light from the crack in the corner, but could see nothing. It was still night.
When I heard the door open and felt the sway as someone came onto the caravan I was uneasy. The sound of the rug being moved and the click of the lock to the compartment terrified me. I tensed, ready to fight, but found myself looking up at Andras in the light of a lantern. He put his finger to his lips and extended his hand to help me get out, whispering an explanation.
"We're outside my people's camp. I didn't want you to wake and not know this. Come with me to the edge of the woods to wait and I will approach to make certain it is safe to go on."
I was glad to move about and be in the fresh air. When he came back he waved at me and led me to a clearing where people sat around a large campfire. Andras led me to a wiry man who stood up as I came closer. I could see the resemblance between them, and he was introduced to me as his father, Peter. Andras spoke with him in a language I didn't understand. He eyed me with some suspicion and gestured to the woman seated on the rock beside him. "My wife will help you, miss." With that he turned back to the fire and spoke to one of the men nearby.
Andras made me known to his mother, Miriam, and she invited me to her caravan to talk privately. There she offered me food and wine and asked Andras and me to sit by the small fire, burnt down to glowing coals.
"You are in trouble, my child." It was not a question. When I nodded, she glanced at her son and spoke in the language her husband had used.
Andras got to his feet and said, "I will return in a moment."
Miriam lit a cigarette and smoked silently as I ate the spicy soup she'd given me. When I had finished, she took my plate and asked to see my hand.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I wish to see your palm, my child." Her dark eyes gleamed with amusement. "Have you never met a Gypsy fortuneteller?"
Embarrassed, I extended my hand.
She took it and drew her fingers across my palm. Her skin was cool to the touch and gave me a feeling of safety. But before I could relax into that comfort, her face changed, lines deepening, eyes widening. She looked from my palm to my eyes, searching.
"What is it?" I pulled my hand from hers and clenched it into a fist.
From the large campfire behind us came music and Miriam turned toward it. When she looked back round at me, her face was smooth again, her eyes shuttered. Andras was coming toward us, carrying the valise Duncan had given me.
I stumbled to my feet, afraid at his expression. "What are you doing with that?" My voice was tremulous. "Duncan said to keep it in the caravan."
Andras spoke rapidly to his mother and placed the valise at my feet. "It is not about what you think." He pulled a parcel wrapped in brown paper from his coat pocket and put it into my hand. "This was on the top of the supplies Duncan gave you." He stared at me, narrowing his eyes and giving me a slight nod.
He was avoiding any mention of the bonds. I nodded and he turned to his mother. "Should she open it, Mama?"
Miriam looked at the package with fear. "First I must protect." She motioned to us. "Come with me."
She led us to the back of her caravan and went up the two steps, reaching inside to pull out a satchel. From it she drew a twist of paper tied with red string and sealed with black wax, a small bag, and a vial of liquid. She took the items to a nearby clearing and crouched near an open spot. "Put the package here."
I set it in the center of the place she indicated and stepped back.
She held out the twist and told me to break the wax seal. When I had done so, she unwound the red string and opened the twist, sprinkling its contents in a circle around the object, chanting words I didn't understand throughout. She put drops at four different places in the circle, repeating words monotonously. Then she scattered what appeared to be dried leaves over the area. She told me to remove the paper from the object. As I did so she continuously spoke in prayerful tones.
"See what it is."
Inside the circle was a black stone, roughly triangular in shape. As I looked at it, a point of red light began to shine at the center. The light grew into a glowing oval of deep red.
Miriam had paled and appeared almost wizened. "Wrap it in the paper," she said harshly.
My hand shaking, I picked up the stone and dropped it again. "It's hot!" My fingers and thumb were red with welts.
"Use the paper. Wrap it." Her voice was so guttural I could hardly understand.
Working as fast as I could, I wrapped the stone in the paper and set it down in the circle once more.
Miriam took a match from her pocket and held it to a black chunk of wax, dripping it over the parcel, sealing the paper shut. "You must take that away from here." Her eyes met mine and I flinched at the wild fear in them. "It is under a protective spell, but I will not have it here. It was given to you?"
I wondered. Duncan had given me the valise, so in that way it had been given to me. I nodded.
"Who gave it to you either did not know its evil or wished you harm. I do not think you are one who would pass on harm to someone else. You cannot escape it. It is yours and you must make certain you are protected against it. The spel
l I cast will last for some time, but not forever."
Andras took my arm. "Clara, if we are to meet Duncan's friend, we must go. Now."
I picked up the package and put it into the valise. Soon we were on our way toward the village where David awaited me. Back again in the dark compartment, I shivered at the memory of the terror in Miriam's eyes. At my feet was the valise with the stone that had caused it.
I found sleep impossible for a very long time.
* * *
Tears slid down Aura Lee's cheeks. Noreen got out of her chair to go to her. "Now, now." Her low voice was choked with emotion. She patted Aura Lee's shoulder. "Now, now."
Max and Kerry were holding onto each other and Brenna dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. Rose and Andrea just looked at each other. "Another call for brandy?" Andrea asked.
Rose nodded.
"How did she live through it?" Kerry wondered. "She and Duncan were so happy and then the world came to an end." She leaned her forehead against Max's shoulder. "And then the whole business about the weird stone and the spell. I don't think I could bear it."
Rose straightened her shoulders and sniffed mightily. "You'd be surprised what you can bear. We all get our turn in the shooting gallery, as a target or as a marksman. Or both."
Noreen wiped her eyes. "I might have to add that to the collection." She produced a watery smile. "Very worthy."
Aura Lee pushed herself out of her chair. "I made lemon bars this morning. We need dessert." She started out of the room and then turned back. "Was that the end of the journal?"
Max looked down at the volume. "Yes. I was hoping for more information. We need help in dealing with the things happening here."
"Should you be up?" Rose asked Aura Lee.
Aura Lee looked puzzled for a moment and then smiled. "You know, I forgot all about myself. I think I'm all right."
"Let me help you." She followed Aura Lee into the kitchen. She put her arm around the older woman's shoulders and hugged her gently.
Andrea got up to fetch glasses and the brandy bottle. "I'm afraid to find out what happened to Duncan. If she never mentioned him in all her years at Wisdom Court, the odds aren't good that she ever saw him again."
Max stood up and reached a hand to pull Kerry to her feet. "How're you feeling, luv?"
Kerry wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands. "I'm so sad I could curl up, and I don't know if I've ever been so tired before, but other than that, I guess I'll live." She leaned against Max and looked into his eyes. "Want to escort me to the bathroom? I'd just as soon not wander around on my own for a while."
"More than happy to comply." He took her by the hand and led her toward the hallway.
Noreen watched them go with a half-smile. "I'd like to see that pairing continue. I've never seen Kerry so smooth before."
Andrea was setting highball glasses in strategic places and filling them as she went. "It's good to see her happy. She deserves to be." She placed a glass at Brenna's elbow. "You're very quiet. Deep thoughts?"
Brenna shook her head. "I'm missing my boyfriend. There's nothing like an unhappy love story to make you miss the one you love."
Andrea filled her glass. "I'm tempted to call Neal and have him stop by. I would if it wouldn't take so much time to bring him up to date as to what's happened. I'm not willing to wait that long. I'll call him after we've finished."
"Lucky." Brenna looked at the cell phone she'd taken out of her pocket. "I'll call Dink, too, but I wish I could see him."
Andrea patted her shoulder. "I feel your pain."
Chapter 23
"This volume can't be the end of Ms. Wyntham's journal, can it?" Max tapped it with one finger. "There's so much more we need to know."
"It's the only one we've found." Kerry leaned against his shoulder. "And we've looked everywhere. Unless we get another visitation or some ghostly signposts, this is it."
Noreen finished chewing her last lemon bar and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. "We haven't taken apart the other stair steps. Now that we have this one, we can be more thorough in our search."
Rose stared at the portrait of Caldicott over the fireplace. "To think of what she went through. I can't stand not knowing if Duncan ever found her or how she ended up in Colorado." She shivered. "And what happened to the odd stone the fortuneteller put under the protection spell?"
Brenna was lying on the floor, wrapped in a fuzzy throw. "What bothers me is we still don't know about what's going on here at Wisdom Court. I don't think anything in the journal explained the hauntings. Are we any closer to understanding what's behind the strange things we've all experienced?"
Aura Lee glanced down at her. "We might have a few more clues. Duncan told her about the talisman his father bragged about, that it could amplify his powers and the powers of his evil group. Don't you think the stone Andras found in the valise is probably that talisman?"
"It's a reasonable assumption." Max thumbed back through the pages of the journal. "There's no description of it before they reached the Gypsy camp, but Miriam certainly tumbled to its presence and power. She must have told Andras to bring the valise to her. Why else would he have fetched it?"
Kerry read along with Max to the end of the page. "When Miriam put the protective spell on the stone she said her ritual would last for a time, but not forever. It's possible Caldicott brought the talisman here, to Wisdom Court. She wouldn't have palmed it off on someone else—Miriam had that part right. So what if it's still here? What if it's powerful and is affecting what happens here?"
"What a cheerful thought." Rose rubbed her hands together, finally blowing on fingers. "I'm cold," she said at Kerry's worried expression. "I honestly wonder if I'll ever get warm again after today." She propped her feet on the coffee table and looked at Max. "Do you have any notion of what spell Miriam could have used? For that matter, do you know anything about Gypsy beliefs?"
"Little beyond some of the more hackneyed representations in popular media, and I've read several books written by sociologists regarding the Irish Travellers. It's difficult to study either the Travellers or the Romani because they so distrust outsiders. And who can blame them? In order to be certain of which group Andras and Miriam belonged to I'd have to create a family tree for them, hunt for whatever branch exists now, and gain their trust. And, after all, it's been seventy-some years since that meeting at the encampment."
"What about Duncan's family?" Andrea was doodling in her notebook. "I know Caldicott worked hard to mask their identities, but wouldn't it be possible to trace them? Or the diplomat whose son was to help Clara," she added in excitement. "Maybe their family has passed down the legend of David's involvement in getting Clara out of England. I wonder if we could possibly find them."
"I don't know about this," Aura Lee said in a troubled voice. "Cottie went to a lot of trouble to hide all of this information from everyone." She shot an anxious look at Andrea. "Everyone. We've experienced some amazing things here over the last few months. What if, by trying to find answers to our questions, we brought attention to Wisdom Court?"
"You mean by rocking the boat we might create ripples that could be followed back to us?" Noreen asked slowly. Her gaze met Rose's worried eyes and looked back to Aura Lee. "That might sound a bit paranoid, but it deserves some thought."
Max brought his arm around Kerry's shoulder and leaned against the sofa back. "People die over time but evil lives on. I wouldn't like to go up against someone like Duncan's father or his kind. Somehow, without tipping anyone off to our interest, we need to discover whether any sort of neo-Nazi group has carried on, continuing the activities begun just before the war." He rested his head against Kerry's hair. "Aura Lee, you're a very wise woman. And you bake like an angel."
Aura Lee blushed with pleasure.
"You know," Rose said slowly, "I think we'd better redouble our efforts here before we tackle the English side of things. That means checking possible hidey-holes—all of the attic stairs, for instance—and other po
ssibilities in the house. Maybe hidden spaces in cupboards or other built-ins. Just listening to what Cottie wrote about the secret compartment in the caravan got me thinking about that possibility. You're the architecture nut, Brenna. You can help us figure out where such things could be hidden, in the house and the associate houses as well."
Brenna nodded. "Don't forget, we might get help from some of the other residents here. Well," she said in answer to Noreen's raised brows, "we've had more than a few nudges so far, haven't we?"
"I just wish those nudges didn't scare me so badly." Aura Lee clasped her hands together. "I feel like a failure as a mystical researcher thanks to becoming a babbling idiot every time something appears."
"Don't we all?" Rose stood up and stretched her arms over her head. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I need to move around a bit. And I'm ready to at least think about dinner. I'm in the mood for a salad after all the baked goods we've eaten the last few days. Anybody want to help me chop veggies?"
"I'm game." Brenna got up off the floor and folded up the throw, tossing it into the basket.
"Me, too." Andrea began to gather up plates and cups. "I don't know why I haven't gained twenty pounds since I first got here. All I do is eat and drink."
Aura Lee looked at them, a wise expression on her face. "I assume you've never heard about the haunting diet? I'm quite serious," she said and they stopped laughing. "It's a proven fact that working among those on the Other Side burns an enormous number of calories."
"I suspect there's a diet book in that, my dear, if someone hasn't already written it." Noreen patted her shoulder as she went toward the kitchen. "I have my doubts about the willingness of dieters to saddle themselves with a passel of ghosts to lose weight. Although, when you think about it, there've been stranger diets than that one."
They went out of the room chuckling and arguing over what to fix for lunch. Caldicott's journal was left behind on the coffee table. As the sound of voices faded, the top cover moved upward and the pages riffled, slowly and then in rapid succession, as if turned by an impatient hand.
A Signal Shown Page 16
