When Twilight Comes

by B. J Daniels

  Charlene shifted the box to get to her gun as she continued to run for the front door. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lexi launch herself into the woman’s arms. Who the hell was that?

  As she reached the front door she saw a man coming in. She fired at him when she saw him going for a weapon. He dived to his right, but she saw him clutch his side, grimacing in pain. She’d shot him!

  She was hit with a blast of cold, wet air, then was out the door, across the porch and heading down the steps.

  She didn’t look back, couldn’t. She ran as if she was running for her life. She was.

  Once she reached the pavement of the parking lot, she looked over her shoulder. She saw the man limp inside, the front door of Fernhaven closing behind him. No one chased after her. She’d gotten away.

  Charlene slowed, breathing so hard she couldn’t hear over her gasps. She’d never moved that fast in her life. She laughed. She didn’t even notice the rain.

  Because of the storm, an odd darkness had settled over the landscape, creeping her out almost as much as the hotel had. She half ran, half walked toward her car. The box was so heavy, and she was still having trouble catching her breath, especially at this altitude. She was used to sea level. She was also in terrible shape.

  She wasn’t even sure who she was running from anymore. She’d seen things back there in that hotel that she never wanted to see again. Felt things that would haunt her until the day she died.

  But at least she would have money. More than twenty grand.

  She’d parked near the edge of the lot, thinking to hide her car beside the dense vegetation. Now she wished she’d parked right at the front door.

  A damp, cold breeze stirred the trees and bushes, with a rustle like a hoarse whisper. Dark shadows moved in and out, in sync with her frightened breaths. As Charlene moved away from the lights of the hotel, she felt as if she were falling into blackness.

  She slowed to rest for an instant. The air felt heavy. The dark clouds low. She labored to breathe, straining to hear over the clamor of her pulse.

  Through the pouring rain she thought she glimpsed another vehicle parked near Alfredo’s in the trees. She was almost to her own car when she heard it.

  The scrape of a shoe sole on the parking lot pavement.

  She didn’t turn—just ran, lumbering toward the little red car, the nicest thing she’d ever owned.

  She never reached the car.

  He hit her from behind.

  She fell forward, unable to break her fall because of the box in her hands. She went down hard, landing on the box, which knocked the air out of her.

  Charlene rolled over on her back and looked up. At first he was only a large black shadow. No features. No real shape. Just a faceless monster in the dark.

  “You stupid bitch.”

  Still gasping for breath, she pushed herself up into a sitting position as he began to take shape before her eyes. Lorenzo. She’d know that voice and that attitude anywhere.

  “I tried to call you,” she said.

  It was the wrong thing to say, and she knew it the instant the words were out of her mouth.

  He kicked her in the thigh, the pain excruciating. Charlene let out a howl and bent over her leg.

  He was on her then, grabbing a handful of her hair and snapping her head back so she was forced to look into his face. The face of the devil.

  “Shut up or I’ll cut your throat,” he growled between gritted teeth as he knelt beside her.

  The knife glittered in his hand, and she didn’t doubt for a moment that he meant every word. She endured the pain, biting down on her lip.

  He wanted something, needed something from her, or he would have already killed her.

  “Where is Jenna?” he asked, tightening his hold on her hair, making her gasp back another cry of pain.

  “Room 318. I got your package for you.” Charlene tried to look at the box on the pavement, but he jerked her head up so she had to gaze at him.

  He raised the knife blade so she could see it.

  As he held her down, he reached over and drew the box to him. Carefully he slipped the blade beneath the tape and sliced. The top flapped open and he reached inside.

  “What the hell?” He waved something in front of her face. “What is this?”

  She could only stare as he dumped the contents of the box on her chest—brochures advertising the new Fernhaven Hotel. These were the papers that were so important to Lorenzo that Jenna had gotten Charlene to come all the way up here?

  “Where is my money?” Lorenzo demanded from between clenched teeth. “Where?” He slapped the brochures away in a wild gesture, then put the knife to her throat.

  “I don’t know. I swear. She told me there were important papers in the box.”

  Lorenzo’s gaze seemed to harden to stone. “The two of you were in on this, weren’t you? You are going to regret it till your last breath.”

  An odd icy calm washed over Charlene. She looked at Lorenzo, seeing all the men who had used and abused her, men she’d allowed to hurt her in ways she couldn’t bear to remember. Or forget.

  And now another man wanted to take pleasure in her pain.

  “You’re too late,” she said, and smiled up at him. “Jenna’s gone, and so is your kid and your money.”

  Lorenzo reacted to her words just as she knew he would, and for the first time in her rotten existence Charlene Palmer really was free.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jenna. Jenna. He’s coming!

  She stirred, head aching. “Harry?”

  Thank God you’re okay.

  She blinked and looked around the room, her blood running cold. “Lexi! Where’s Lexi?”

  She’s all right. She’s with a cop and a private investigator downstairs. She’s safe.

  Jenna slumped against the wall in relief. “The police are here?”

  Who is Lorenzo Dante?

  “My ex-husband,” she said, fear turning her stomach.

  He’s here. Get the gun I put on top of the TV cabinet.

  “Where are you?” she asked, looking around the room. “I want to see you.”

  “I’m here.”

  She watched him materialize just a few feet away from her, and felt such a surge of emotion to see him again.

  “I’m powerless against him, Jenna. You’re the only one who can see me. Feel me.”

  She nodded, feeling just as powerless against Lorenzo.

  “There is something else I need to tell you.”

  She pushed herself to her feet and had to stop for a moment as her vision dimmed and her head swam.

  “It’s about the money that was in the duffel bag.”

  “Charlene took it,” she said, and couldn’t believe that she’d trusted that woman. It just showed how bad her instincts were. Like now. She looked at Harry. She saw the expression on his face. “No.”

  “I switched the boxes.”

  She let out a laugh and shook her head in astonishment. What part of “he’s a thief” didn’t she get?

  “You have to understand. I thought I would spend the rest of eternity here, feeling nothing, being nothing. But then you came and changed everything. I want to be with you, Jenna. I can’t stand the thought that when you leave here, I will go back to being nothing again.”

  “What did you think you were going to do with the money?” Out of the corner of her eye she saw that the suite door stood open. she took a couple of steps toward it.

  He grabbed her arm. “It was just an old reflex and this crazy hope that I could buy my way out of here. That I could be with you. I thought with something this strong between us, maybe…”

  She looked into his eyes again and realized what he was saying. She felt tears fill her own eyes as he pulled her to him. In his arms, she had believed anything was possible, but now she realized only one of them would be able to leave here. No amount of money could buy Harry Ballantine’s way out of Fernhaven.

  “He’s just outside, Jenna.
” Harry released her and went to the TV cabinet. He picked up her gun and handed it to her.

  She took it, her fingers trembling. She still felt light-headed, and her heart was so filled with regret that the gun felt extra heavy in her hands.

  Can you kill him? He’d asked the words in her head.

  She met Harry’s gaze. He must have seen that instant of hesitation. She heard him groan.

  “We’re going to need another plan. Quick, come with me.”

  FOG DRIFTED PAST on a light breeze as Lorenzo cautiously approached the hotel.

  Jenna couldn’t have gotten away. Charlene had to be lying. He wiped a smear of her blood from his knuckles onto his pants, wondering what she’d done with his money.

  What nagged at him was that Charlene had looked as surprised as he’d been when the money hadn’t been in the box.

  He slowed. The afternoon was dark, the clouds low and heavy with moisture. Mist moved through the air like floating cobwebs, and a strange cold feeling seemed to settle in his bones.

  A light glowed in the lobby, and in front of it he saw figures in the lobby—Rose Garcia and the man she’d arrived with.

  Apparently the man had been shot, because Rose was helping him. Alexandria was with her.

  Lorenzo swore as he watched them disappear from view. He didn’t need any more trouble. All he wanted was his money. And Jenna.

  Staying in the shadows, he moved up the steps and across the wide porch. No sign of Rose and the man. Where had they gone? He drew his gun and eased open the front door. The place was eerily empty. The lush, thick carpet muffled his footfalls as he moved quickly to the registration desk and quietly checked the book.

  The first guest since 1936 was a Jenna Johnson. Johnson? Yeah, right. According to the book, she was in room 318. So Charlene at least hadn’t lied about that. All the cubbyholes behind the desk contained two keys, except for the slot marked 318. It had only one in it.

  He pocketed the key with a smile and turned toward the elevator.

  As he did he heard a sound coming from behind the door marked Manager. He heard Rose Garcia calling the police. Too late to stop her. He’d just have to move quickly and finish his business here before the cops arrived.

  At the elevator, he pushed the button and waited. He was considering taking the stairs instead when the elevator doors opened and he saw an elderly, gray-haired man. The man’s surprised gaze went from Lorenzo’s face to the gun in his hand.

  Lorenzo stepped in, the elevator doors closing behind him as he reached over and hit the third-floor button.

  “Who the—” That’s all the old man got out before Lorenzo backhanded him with the gun. The old man slid slowly to the floor as the elevator hummed upward.

  LOCKED INSIDE THE MANAGER’S office, Rose worked to stop Mike’s bleeding. She’d pulled off her jacket and folded the soft fabric, pressing it against the gunshot wound. Mike was pale, his skin clammy.

  “A lot of help I was to you,” he said.

  She smiled at him. “You’re just a high-priced private eye. You’re not used to women shooting at you. Or are you?”

  His smile was feeble. “I didn’t see the gun in her hand until it was too late. I was looking at you and Lexi.”

  That’s what she’d feared.

  Lexi was crying softly. Rose pulled her closer. “It’s all right.” She met Mike’s gaze. “I’ve called for backup and an ambulance.”

  He nodded and covered her hand with his. Their eyes met and she felt her heart drop like a stone. “Don’t dare think about taking off on me,” she murmured. They both knew what she meant.

  “Not a chance,” he whispered. “Not after I finally got you to admit you wanted to date me.”

  She looked at Lexi. Where was the little girl’s mother? Was Jenna still alive?

  “Go on,” he said. “Find Jenna. I’ll be all right. I’ll take care of Lexi.”

  He looked as if he might pass out at any moment. Rose knew if she left him he might die. She glanced from Mike to the little girl. Lexi had curled up beside Mike, hugging her rag doll and looking terrified.

  “I know what you came up here to do,” Mike said quietly.

  Kill Lorenzo, Rose thought.

  “Go ahead. I wasn’t going to try to stop you,” Mike said.

  She felt the pull. She was a cop. A cop on medical leave. Out of her jurisdiction. On a mission. She had come up here to make sure Lorenzo Dante was stopped for good, and Mike knew it.

  “Several of the highway patrol are close by because of more flooding on the road,” she said.

  She could hear sirens in the distance. They would be here soon.

  “I’ll be all right,” he whispered.

  She shook her head. She couldn’t leave this scared little girl alone with a man who might bleed to death while she was gone. “The highway patrol will find Jenna and help her.” If Jenna was still alive.

  Rose looked into Mike’s eyes. She had thought she would do anything to stop Lorenzo Dante. But she was wrong. “I’m not leaving you,” she whispered. “Or Lexi. Come here, sweetheart,” she said to the little girl. Rose might not be able to help Jenna right now, but she could protect her daughter. “Everything is going to be all right.”

  Lexi moved into the circle of Rose’s arm as the three huddled in the dim office, the sirens growing louder and louder.

  HARRY DREW HER DOWN the hallway. Jenna heard the elevator begin to rise three floors below. She looked up at the dial over the closed doors. Someone was coming up. Lorenzo?

  The stairs. Take the stairs!

  She looked around for the door to the stairway. Harry grabbed her hand and they ran down the hallway as the elevator dinged behind them. They were still yards away when the elevator opened.

  Harry pulled Jenna into one of the rooms that wasn’t quite finished yet.

  She tried to hold her breath as she heard the heavy tread of footfalls on the hall carpet. The elevator doors closed. Silence. Then she heard the door to suite 318 bang open. She looked over at Harry. He motioned for her to wait.

  She looked into his eyes—bottomless blue eyes. She tried to imagine living in the same time he had, being with him then, and her heart ached. She thought about opening night at Fernhaven, June 12, 1936.

  Closing her eyes, she imagined being in the big ballroom with Harry, dancing to the music of the orchestra. She could almost smell all the flowers she’d seen on the tables, their scents mixing with the expensive perfumes the women were wearing.

  Jenna would be dressed in a gown the color of Harry’s eyes. He would hold her close and they would sway to the music. She could almost feel his heart beating next to hers to the old-fashioned strains…. Then she heard the sound of breaking glass, and Lorenzo swearing.

  LORENZO STARED DOWN at the broken lamp on the floor, then looked around for something else he could destroy. If Jenna was hiding in here, he’d find her.

  He still had the gun in his hand, but he wasn’t going to shoot her. He thought he might choke the life out of her so he could watch her die. He wanted to be the last thing she saw when she left this earth.

  He couldn’t believe this was where she’d been staying. A suite? The bitch had been staying in this elegant place on his money?

  He moved deeper into the suite to check in the closets, under the bed. He’d seen her suitcases by the door. If she’d left, she’d left everything behind. Just taken the money, he thought with fury.

  That’s when he heard the creak of door hinges down the hallway, and swung around. The stairs. He could hear her footfalls on the steps.

  JENNA RAN DOWN THE STAIRS, practically throwing herself down the stairwell. It was cold and gray in here, and her footfalls echoed loudly.

  She couldn’t hear if Lorenzo was behind her, if he was gaining on her. Nor could she hear or see Harry. Was he still with her?

  Then she heard the door bang open above her, heard Lorenzo’s lumbering steps, as if he was half falling down the stairs in his rush to catch her.
>
  Breathe.

  Her heart thundered in her ears, louder than the horrible sound of Lorenzo gaining on her. And she felt an overwhelming sense of relief that Harry was still with her.

  Then, suddenly, there was the exit door. Ground floor.

  Take that door.

  She shoved it open and stumbled out into the stormy darkness, met by a wave of cold dampness. It took her a moment to realize where she was. The courtyard. The only light was around the fountain. Everywhere else held pockets of shadow and mist.

  Run to the path up the mountain.

  “Harry?”

  Run. You have to trust me.

  Trust him? She could hear Lorenzo coming down the stairs.

  Wait.

  She had reached the edge of the courtyard, where the dense forest began.

  Wait for him.

  She stopped. “Harry, you’re scaring me.”

  I’m going to help you. But you have to trust me. Can you do that, Jenna?

  She took a deep breath and let it out.

  Mist rose from the hot pools as Jenna waited at the edge of the courtyard for Lorenzo, wondering what she was doing. More to the point, what Harry was planning.

  Let him see you, then take the path behind you. Trust me.

  She let out a small laugh, half-hysterical, at the sound of Harry’s voice in her head. She’d more than lost her mind. She was about to lose her life. At least Lexi was safe. She did trust that Harry had told her the truth about her daughter. She could hear the sound of sirens growing closer.

  There he is.

  She could feel the gun tucked at the small of her back. Through the steam rising off the hot pools she saw Lorenzo come out the door into the courtyard. He spotted her and smiled as he began walking toward her.

  This was crazy. But Harry was right about one thing. It had to end on this mountain. Jenna couldn’t live in fear the rst of her life. She had to protect her daughter.

  She turned and started up the path, through the dense woods, as Harry had instructed. As she climbed, following the narrow track, the trees like a wall on each side of her, the clouds grew darker, the fog thicker. She could barely see two feet in front of her.