by Kathi Daley
Chapter 12
By the time we set out for the Providence house the sun was setting. Mac seemed to know exactly where to go, so I followed her directions, turning onto the highway and heading out of town. I still had flashlights in the cargo area of my Jeep, so even if the sky grew darker before we arrived I knew we could get a look at the place to determine the likelihood it would work for the fund-raiser.
“If you want to get a look at the graveyard there’s a sharp left once you turn into the drive,” Mac informed me.
“I’d like to see it,” Trevor said. “In fact, I’m more interested in the graveyard than the house. We’ll have a hard time selling the event without the Hayride unless we can step up the creep factor another way.”
“Caleb said to take photos of everything and forward them to him, along with our general impression of the place,” I answered.
As we neared the drive for the house and graveyard, Mac warned me to slow down a bit. She hadn’t been out in this area since she was a child, so she needed to watch for the drive, which was most likely overgrown with weeds.
“I think it’s just up the road after you pass the old pasture fence.” Mac pointed in the direction I needed to go.
“I see it,” I said as I put my foot on the brake. The dirt drive was in pretty bad shape but not impassable even for a regular car and certainly not for my four-wheel drive. Years of rain and the absence of regular grading made for a rough road with a lot of ruts, so I slowed down to no more than five miles an hour.
“The road to the graveyard should be just up ahead,” Mac said. “I remember it being a sharp turn, so we’ll need to watch for it.”
“I see it, just beyond that rusted bike frame,” Trevor announced.
I made the turn onto the road, which was in even worse shape than the main drive. “I don’t know about this,” I said. “The road is really rough. A lot of cars would have trouble navigating some of these ruts and we don’t have time to grade the road.”
“Yeah, it’s a lot worse than I remember,” Mac admitted.
There was a clearing just in front of us, so I pulled over and parked. The sky had darkened a bit, but the stone grave markers were still visible. I grabbed three flashlights from the cargo area and handed one each to Mac and Trevor.
“The place does have the spooky feel I was hoping for,” Trevor said.
I found I had to agree. The area around the graveyard was barren except for a single tree that was completely devoid of leaves. The tree groaned as the bare branches dipped and swayed as the tall grass blew in the steady breeze. The cemetery itself was bordered by an iron fence that had once been painted white, though little of the color remained after years of exposure to the sun and other elements. The path through the gravestones was roped off, as Mac remembered, but the path, like the drive, was rutted with tall weeds that would need to be knocked down before the school could possibly use it.
“I don’t think this is going to work,” I said once again.
“Let’s walk through anyway,” Trevor urged. “We drove all the way out here.”
Mac and I followed Trevor as he entered the graveyard through the rusted gate that hung from one hinge and looked as if it hadn’t been functional for a lot of years.
“Generally, I enjoy walking through old graveyards, but this one seems to have a lot of children,” Mac said as she shone her flashlight on the gravestones, some of which were raised, others little more than a slab of cement in the ground. “This baby was only four months old when she died, and here’s the grave of her two-year-old sister. Talk about tragic: to lose one child must be the most difficult thing a person can go through, but to lose two children and both when they were so young. I’m not sure how you’d deal with that.”
I shone my flashlight on the grave markers, agreeing the place was pretty depressing. At least a third of the souls buried here had died before they were ten. “I guess life was hard back then. There were a lot of diseases that afflicted children. I’m sure accidents claimed a lot of lives as well.”
“Okay, this just segued from fun and sort of spooky to a total downer,” Trevor complained.
“Yeah.” Mac sighed. “The fun has gone out of the adventure. We came here to look at the house, which is just up ahead. Let’s check it out and then get out of here. Suddenly physics homework doesn’t sound so bad after all.”
The minute the house came into view I knew it was the house from my dream. I wanted to scream, I wanted to flee, but all I did was stand perfectly still and stare at it.
“The porch is rotted through,” Trevor said. I was sure he hadn’t noticed the fact that I had stopped following.
“Are you okay?” Mac asked.
I simply stared. I didn’t answer, didn’t make a single movement.
“Do you see something?” Mac took my hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Should we go?”
I nodded ever so slightly.
“Let’s go,” Mac called to Trevor. “The house is obviously a bust and I have a lot of homework. We’ll call Caleb later to let him know.”
Trevor looked in to one of the windows, shrugged, and headed back to where Mac and I were standing. “It’s totally dark inside. I couldn’t see a thing.”
Mac gently took my hand and pulled me along beside her. Trevor chatted about the upcoming football game the entire way back through the cemetery, so he at least hadn’t noticed the weirdness of my response to the house.
“Why don’t you drive back?” Mac said to Trevor. “I think Alyson has a headache.”
Trevor looked at me with a question in his eyes.
“Yeah,” I said softly. “I think that would be best.”
I sat in the backseat while Mac and Trevor chatted in the front. The drive home passed in a blur, and when we arrived I told my friends I was tired and planned to go in and get to bed early. Mac was clearly concerned, but she’d ridden to my house with Trevor, so after I hugged her and assured her I was fine she reluctantly left.
I headed inside and went directly up to my room. All I really wanted to do was to climb into my bed and pull the covers over my head, but I knew in my heart I needed to go back. I’d been having the dream for a reason. Chan had said the door represented the barrier between what I knew and what I needed to know. He’d indicated that the answers I sought would be found only after I conquered my fear and went inside.
Chan hadn’t said anything about entering the house alone, so I grabbed Tucker and Shadow, left a note for my mom should she return home before I got back, and headed back to my Jeep. My heart was pounding and my palms sweating as I turned the key in the ignition. I fought the urge to run as I slowly shifted into Drive and started slowly down the driveway that connected the house to the Coast Highway. The sky had darkened even more and the only light, other than the headlights, were from the stars overhead. I glanced at the sea to my right and tried to permit the crashing of the waves to calm my jangled nerves. By the time I reached the deeply rutted dirt drive leading to the house I was almost numb with terror. The house was completely dark when I pulled up and stopped in front of it.
We hadn’t checked the door when we’d been here before, but I knew it would be open. Just as I knew something or someone would be waiting on the other side. My legs felt weak and shaky as I climbed from the driver’s side seat. I opened the back door and Tucker and Shadow jumped to the ground. I stood for a long time staring at the house, trying all the while to work up the courage to take a step forward.
You can do this.
I closed my eyes, swallowed hard, and took one step forward. I opened my eyes and forced myself take another step, and then another, until I was standing at the foot of the steps.
The dream is yours to conquer. I could hear Chan’s voice in my mind. He’d said he would be there with me when the time came for me to slay my dragons, and somehow, I knew in my heart he was there now.
I placed one foot on the first step. I bit my lip so hard it began to bleed, but still I di
dn’t give in to the urge to flee. I slowly lifted my other foot and placed it on the second step. Only two more, I coached myself, as I looked toward the dark door from my dream.
Shadow stood at the door, but Tucker was at my side. He licked my hand, which seemed to give me the courage I needed to conquer the final two steps. Once I arrived at the doorway I paused again. Shadow wove his way through my legs, purring so loudly I was certain if there was evil waiting for me, his offer of comfort would have quelled it before I entered.
I placed my hand on the door handle and slowly turned it. My heart felt like it was going to punch its way clear through my chest. My breath was coming in short, shallow intervals, and I began to feel the dizziness I’d experienced in my dream.
The dream is yours to conquer. Chan’s voice echoed through my mind.
I slowly pushed the door open a mere inch at a time. The interior of the house was dark, so the only thing that greeted me through the opening was blackness. I held my flashlight firmly in one hand, clinging to Tucker’s collar with the other. I took a breath, opened the door a bit wider, and took a step inside.
I let go of Tucker’s collar and turned on the flashlight.
Oh God!
******
I must have passed out because the next thing I knew I was lying on the dusty floor and Tucker was licking my face. I slowly sat up and looked around the room. Every inch of every wall was completely covered with photos of me. Some of them were from as recently as five months ago; others had been taken of Amanda when I lived that life back in New York.
“Oh my God,” Trevor said from behind me.
I turned to find both Mac and Trevor standing in the doorway.
“We called you when we got to my place. You didn’t answer, and we had a feeling you were coming back,” Mac explained. “This is the house from your dream.”
I nodded and stood up.
“Does someone want to tell me what’s going on?” Trevor demanded.
I glanced at Mac, who lifted a brow but didn’t say anything.
“I’ve been having dreams about this place,” I said aloud. “Terrible dreams, more like nightmares.”
Trevor took several steps forward. He put his hands on my upper arms and looked me in the eye. “What’s going on? Who took all these photos?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Do you think Chelsea’s stalker is after you too?”
I shook my head. “No. It’s not that.”
Trevor used a finger to wipe a tear from my cheek. “Then what?”
I froze. I knew in my heart I should tell Trevor the truth, but I was scared. The more people who knew the truth, the more danger they and I were in.
“Alyson, what is it?” Trevor demanded again. “Do you know who took these photos?”
I nodded.
“Okay, then, who? And, more importantly, why?”
I took a deep breath and then answered. “My name isn’t Alyson Prescott. It’s Amanda Parker. Or at least it was. Technically, Amanda is dead.”
Trevor frowned. “Huh?”
“Prior to moving to Cutter’s Cove, I lived in New York. My best friend and I witnessed a gangland murder. She was killed by the men responsible for the murder and I was put into witness protection.”
Trevor took a step back. He glanced at Mac. “You don’t seem surprised.”
“Mac knows,” I answered.
I watched helplessly as pain crossed Trevor’s face.
“I wanted to tell you. I almost did a million times, but I’ve been sworn to secrecy. My life is in danger. My mother’s life is in danger. I didn’t want to put you in danger as well.”
“You trusted Mac enough to tell her the truth, but you didn’t trust me?”
“It’s not like that,” I cried.
“I snooped through Alyson’s drawers when I spent the night at her house shortly after we met,” Mac explained. “I found photos of Amanda in New York. Alyson didn’t tell me because she trusts me more than she trusts you; she told me because I found out on my own.”
Trevor walked across the room. He hit the wall and then bowed his head. I should have told him sooner. Now he’d never forgive me.
I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around him from behind. I hugged his back to my chest. “I’m sorry. You know I trust you. I should have told you.”
Trevor turned around and hugged me to him. “Yeah, you should have.”
I allowed myself to take strength from his embrace before taking a step back.
“Uh, guys,” Mac said. “I’m glad this is all out in the open, but what are we going to do about all these photos?”
I shone my flashlight on the walls. It looked bad. Someone who knew I was Amanda had been stalking me for months.
“We have to call the police,” Trevor said.
“No.” I stopped him. “As odd as this sounds, I’m not supposed to tell anyone, not even the cops, that I’m really Amanda Parker. I’ll call Donovan.”
“Donovan?” Trevor asked.
“My handler. He’ll know what to do.”
“Are you in danger now? Do we need to hide you?” Trevor asked.
I shone my light on the wall and walked around in a circle. It appeared as if the photos had been posted in chronological order. There were photos of me when I lived in New York on one wall, and then others of me beginning maybe six months after that. The photos stopped at the point where Donovan had whisked Mom and me away and taken us to Madrona Island, and there weren’t any photos that would have been taken since I returned. If the men I was running from had found me they must have left the area when I did. It didn’t appear as if they’d returned, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t.
“No,” I finally answered. “I think I’m safe for now.”
“Will you have to leave again?” Mac asked.
“Again?” Trevor asked, and then a light went on. “Your trip last spring. I take it you weren’t visiting relatives in Minnesota like Mac told me.”
“No, I wasn’t visiting relatives. Donovan heard chatter that led him to believe the men who are looking for me had found me. He took Mom and me away while he explored the intel. It turned out to be inconclusive so we decided to come back. I guess the chatter he picked up was spot-on after all.”
Trevor frowned. “You decided to come back. You might not have?”
I shook my head. “Donovan wanted to relocate us. I’m sure once he sees this that will be his plan once again.”
“And we’d never see you again?”
“No. I’m afraid not. My own father doesn’t even know where we are or who we’ve become. Once they erase your life they erase everything and everyone from it.”
“We can’t let that happen,” Trevor said.
Suddenly I felt strong. “No. We can’t.”
Chapter 13
Tuesday, October 24
Donovan wanted to whisk me away as soon as he heard what I’d found. I refused. I was almost eighteen and old enough to take control of my own life, however brief the remainder of it might be. I’d talked it over with my mom and she’d agreed we should stay. There weren’t any recent photos in the house and Donovan had sent a man from the nearest FBI office to tail me until he arrived and could manage the situation.
It was odd knowing the new senior who just happened to be in all my classes was really a fully armed FBI agent who went by the name of Chance and just happened to look young enough to pass for a high school student. I’d been instructed not to be overly chummy with him, but also not to do anything to let him lose me either. I knew the drill. I could do what I needed to do.
Spending time investigating Chelsea’s stalker might seem like a meaningless activity in the grand scheme of things, but it gave me something other than the strangeness of my own situation to focus on. I planned to speak to Karina Hinton and Art Dupree today. If neither turned out to be Chelsea’s stalker, and I didn’t pick up any new suspects along the way, I was going to have to have a serious talk with C
helsea about bringing the adults in her life into the situation. The idea that the stalker might be the IT guy, Mike Walker, worried me more than just a tiny bit.
I knew Karina had history first period, so I waited in the hall for her class to let out. I could see my tail out of the corner of my eye, but obsessing about his presence wasn’t going to change anything, so I tried to ignore him.
“Hey, Karina. Can I talk to you a minute?”
She looked at me for a second, as if trying to remember who I was and how she knew me. “Alyson, right?”
“Right.” I couldn’t use the article angle for this because Karina was on the newspaper staff, so instead I was pretending to be interested in photography. “I wanted to ask you about cameras. I know you do the photography for the school paper, so I was hoping you could help me out.”
“Be happy to, but I have a class. If you want to walk with me, we can chat.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” I fell into step beside Karina. “What I’m most interested in is being able to take photos from a distance.”
“How much of a distance?”
“Far. Like across a field or from down the street.”
“You’ll need a quality telephoto lens as well as a decent camera. The newer digital cameras will provide an autofocus feature, but to get really good shots you’ll need to learn to manually adjust your settings. They have a good class at the community college, if you’re interested. You’ll need your own equipment, though; it isn’t provided.”
“What type of equipment do you have?” I asked.
“My camera is a fairly old Nikon I inherited from my dad. He also gave me a zoom lens with 800 magnification that’s pretty awesome, but it’s heavy and bulky. I’m hoping to get new equipment for graduation.”
“I saw someone taking photos of the game last week from the hill across the field. Would your camera do that?”
“Sure. But I can’t see that climbing all the way up that hill would provide an advantage. I took photos of the game from field level with a lens specifically manufactured to capture action shots of moving parts. Figuring out which lens is the best one to use, as well as which camera setting is best for each situation, is part of what that class will teach you. You should really look in to it.”
