Monica watched the corner, trying not to say a word. She reached out and took Robin’s hand.
“I know it wasn’t Rosemarie’s fault, but we have to stop her from hurting anyone else. She wouldn’t be happy if that happened, would she?”
“Their father,” Monica whispered.
“Bethany, I think we know why Rosemarie is still angry.” Robin took a deep breath. “Monica had a dream about the cabin. We know that was your father’s cabin.”
They didn’t know that. It was a guess, but Monica was hoping Bethany would confirm it.
“The cabin by the waterfall,” Monica said. “It’s by a stream, and there are ferns all around it.”
Robin was listening. “She said she asked the ranger to keep people away from the cabin last year.” She frowned. “Sully? When did you ask Sully…” Robin gasped. “In the snow. You asked him to keep the snowmobiles away. No… you asked him to keep the loud machines away from the west side of the dam.” Robin looked at Monica. “The cabin is on the west side of the dam.”
“But Carlisle Creek…” Unless Kara was mistaken. Unless she’d mixed up the trail where she’d stumbled on Corbin Sanger’s cabin. “There are a couple of different waterfalls on the west side of the dam.” Monica rose and went inside. “Gabe, we may be looking at the wrong side of the lake.”
Sully, Val, Mark, and Gabe were gathered around the table.
Monica walked over and looked for a map of the lake. “We’re looking in the wrong spot.”
“What?” Val lifted a map. “Kara said Carlisle—”
“Sully, last winter Bethany asked you to keep the loud machines away from the snow park on the west side of the dam.” Monica put her finger on the dam. “Where was she talking about?”
“There.” Sully traced a finger up the lakeshore and inland. “There’s a snow park right around here that has a bunch of snowmobile trails going up into the mountains.”
“Do hikers use them in the summer?”
“I don’t know why they wouldn’t. They’re wide enough trails for a quad.”
Gabe stared at the map. “There’s a fire road that goes up that direction. We have some work scheduled to start in the next month.”
“What kind of work?” Mark asked.
“Tree removal.” Gabe pursed his lips. “Forest service says there’s a huge amount of bark beetle damage on that side of the river.”
Monica was focused on the creeks. “There are two creeks that could have waterfalls on them running through that area. They might be dry this time of year, but they’re marked.” She pointed at the map. “I’m seeing Horseshoe Creek…” Her finger slid up to the next thin blue line. “…and Sand Creek.”
“Sand Creek doesn’t sound like it’s likely to have much water.”
“You never know.” Mark grabbed a stack of papers. “Let me see if I can find anything in these survey reports.”
Gabe frowned. “Where did you find those?”
“Online,” Mark said, flipping through the pages. “The power company did a survey of the whole area in the 1940s when they were settling with the families from Grimmer.” He scanned the page and his eyebrows rose. “This could be it.” He tapped on the page and flipped it. “Redwood hunting cabin in good repair. Abandoned. No record of ownership. It’s listed in the Horseshoe Creek area.”
“How do we know it’s the Sanger cabin?” Val asked.
“Remember that article Robin found?” Monica asked. “The Sangers who’d moved to Sacramento were pissed because the power company was trying to deny their claim. They weren’t going to list the Sanger family on any property surveys.”
Mark was still looking at the surveys. “There’s a cabin along Sand Creek, but they don’t list it as made of redwood, and they say the owners were the Haverfords.”
“Horseshoe Creek,” Sully said. “I’d be willing to bet it’s there. That area has a lot more exposed rock, and the creek runs all year unless it’s really dry.”
“Then let’s go.” Gabe started toward the door. “How are we getting there?”
Sully said, “Gabe, it’s the middle of the night.”
“And my kid is out there, being controlled by a deranged ghost who likes to burn things.” He opened the door. “Trucks and quads have headlights; I’m going.”
Monica walked to the door. “I’ve seen the cabin; I’ll recognize the area. I’ll go with Gabe.”
Robin walked inside from the back porch, her face pale and wan. “Someone give me some juice and a Tylenol. I’ll go too.”
“What did she tell you?” Val asked.
Mark rushed to the fridge while Monica started toward Robin.
“Monica,” Gabe said. “We need to go.”
“Put the brakes on.” Robin looked like she was about to puke, but she nailed Gabe with a glare. “You need to understand what’s out there.” She took the glass of juice Mark gave her. “And we’re going to need some salt. A lot of salt.”
Chapter 27
Monica looped her arms around Gabe’s waist as they bumped over the trail that ran along Horseshoe Creek.
“You three have done this before?”
“Once,” she yelled. “I don’t know how similar ghost banishings are though. We may have no idea what’s going to happen.”
“Comforting.”
For a man whose sixteen-year-old was missing, Gabe was doing pretty well. Monica leaned against his back, wishing she knew enough to reassure him.
She couldn’t. They were heading into a situation with two violent spirits, one of whom had hold of a sixteen-year-old boy carrying lighter fluid. It was nearly midnight, and they were riding three quads slowly along an unknown trail. Sully was in the front, leading the pack and kicking up dust that threatened to choke all of them despite their protective equipment.
The trail led up and into the forest, and the higher they climbed, the more damp the air grew. Soon the dust had died down and Monica could smell the water in Horseshoe Creek.
“There must be a spring,” Gabe said.
“Has to be.” Snow wouldn’t still be melting this far into the summer.
It was hard to tell how long they’d been riding. They had parked their trucks at the end of the fire road and unloaded the quad bikes from the trailers. Mark and Robin were behind them, Gabe and Monica in the middle, with Sully and Val leading the crew.
“This is bad.” Gabe’s voice was barely audible over the sound of the engine.
“What’s bad? I mean… other than the obvious.”
“The trees.” Gabe pointed with his left hand. “Look how many dead trees there are.”
Once Monica noticed, it was all she could see. Bark beetles had eaten through the pines, leaving dead evergreens standing in wide swaths over the hillside.
“If a fire starts back here—”
“There’s enough fuel to sweep down this mountain, jump the river, and head straight into town.”
Monica gripped his waist harder. They couldn’t get to the cabin fast enough.
If they were on the right trail.
If the cabin existed.
If Logan was there.
“We’re going to find him.”
Gabe reached down and squeezed her hand, but he didn’t say another word.
A sharp whistle cut through the air. Monica leaned to the side and saw Sully pointing off to the right. There was light flickering through the woods.
“There.” Gabe veered off the trail, nearly throwing Monica off the back of the quad. Her jaw was rattling from the rough forest floor as they crashed through the underbrush. They passed through a small grove of sequoia trees; even through the jostling, she recognized the terrain.
This was it. This was the cabin.
A full moon hung over a clearing in the woods, the dead trees surrounding the cabin seemingly at odds with the lush ferns and underbrush along the creek bank.
In the center of the clearing, Logan sat on a fallen log, staring at flames flickering in an old stone fi
repit. The remains of a wooden spit leaned haphazardly on either side of the pit and logs were ringed around, creating a seating area.
Logan didn’t look up, not even when they shut off the quad bikes. He was staring intently into the fire.
“Logan!” Gabe ran toward his son but stopped when Logan looked up and put a finger over his mouth.
“Shhh.” He glared at his father before he looked over his shoulder at the abandoned cabin. “Don’t you know he’s sleeping?”
Monica grabbed Gabe’s hand and squeezed hard before he could say anything else.
Logan wasn’t injured, but something was very not right.
Robin stepped forward and sat across from the boy. “Who’s sleeping?”
The corner of Logan’s mouth turned up, and he gave Robin a sideways glance.
“You know.” His voice was singsong, higher than his normal tone.
“Rosemarie?” Robin asked. “Why don’t you leave Logan alone? You can talk to me on your own.”
Logan shook his head. “Nope. I can’t do that. I’m not like Bethany.” For a second, a frown wrinkled the boy’s forehead. “Stop it. You’re confusing him.”
“I don’t think I’m the one confusing him.” Robin waved Monica over. “We’re worried about him. Worried about you.”
The laugh Logan let out was more than unsettling. It was eerie. “No. I don’t believe that. You all knew. You all knew what he was like and you didn’t do a thing.” Logan looked up, and any amusement that was in his eyes had distilled into a cold, hard rage. “Not a damn thing.”
Monica said, “You’re talking about your father. About Corbin.”
Logan looked Monica up and down, curling his lip. “I thought I got rid of you. You’re just like all of them, believing the lies he told, ignoring all the signs.” Logan looked back at Robin. “You’re the only one in Grimmer who listens, and that’s only because you know Bethany.”
“You’re confused,” Robin said softly. “Grimmer is gone. It was flooded eighty years ago. The people here now? They don’t know you. They didn’t know Corbin. And if they’d known what he did to you—”
“Why can’t you do anything right, girl?” Logan stood and yelled at them. He reached down and tossed another log on the fire, showering sparks into the air.
Monica hissed in a breath. She looked at Gabe, but he and Mark were already running back to the quad bikes to grab the extinguishers they’d packed.
Sully came to stand near the fire, his thumbs hooked in his front pockets. “Logan, you need to sit down.”
There was another moment when Monica saw Logan behind Rosemarie’s anger. The boy was frightened and confused. He recognized Sully, but he couldn’t seem to connect. He shook his head and Rosemarie turned her eyes back to Robin.
“Why did you bring all these people?”
“We’re trying to help,” Sully said.
Rosemarie turned to look at him. “You the ranger?”
“I’m the sheriff.”
“Bethany said the ranger was supposed to keep people away, but you didn’t do that, did you?” Logan crossed his arms over his chest and pursed his lips. “You got the winter machines away, but did you stop the hikers? Did you stop the noisy machines you’re all riding? No! You didn’t.” She leaned dangerously close to the fire. “You went and let a Sanger near this cabin! What did you think was going to happen?”
“What happened, Rosemarie?” Robin asked. “Did the girl make Corbin angry?”
“She woke him up.” Rosemarie pointed over Logan’s shoulder. “Do you know how long I’ve been keeping him asleep?”
Monica felt a prickle of cold roll down her back, and a wave of malevolent energy emanated from the redwood cabin.
“Thank you,” Robin said quietly. “I know you were protecting everyone from him. But don’t you want some help?”
Val came and sat next to Robin, a large bag of salt plopped between her feet. “We can help you get rid of him, Rosemarie. You won’t have to keep working so hard.”
Something in the air was telling Monica that they needed to go. Now. They needed to walk down the hill and not turn back. They needed to—
“You guys feeling that?” Val asked quietly.
Sully spoke beside her. “Hell, I’m feeling that, and I’m not even psychic.”
“He wants us to leave,” Robin said. “He wants us to leave him alone and leave you alone. But we’re not going to do that.”
Monica saw it now, saw it so clearly that everything that had happened made sense. The other cabins. The fires. Kara’s confusion and Rosemarie’s rage. “This is the last place he knows, isn’t it?”
Rosemarie swung her eyes to Monica. “I knew I needed to get rid of you.”
“All the other places he knew in some way. The Alison cabin, the Lewis place, those were all places Corbin knew. He might go there. But now they’re gone, so he’s trapped here. You’ve finally got him.”
Logan’s head swung back and forth; Rosemarie was shaking it hard. “I can’t be sure.”
“So you’re going to burn it,” Monica whispered. “You don’t want him to know, but you’re going to burn this cabin down.”
“Fuck,” Gabe muttered behind Monica. “Logan, you can’t—”
“Logan is taking a nap,” Rosemarie hissed at Gabe. “Do not wake him up.”
“No, he’s not,” Monica said. “I can see him. Logan’s awake and he’s confused and he’s scared, Rosemarie. If you burn this cabin, you’re going to kill him and all of us.”
“So leave.” She sat down and reached into Logan’s backpack, which was propped against the log where he was sitting. She pulled out the can of lighter fluid and opened it. “It’s not as good as kerosene, but it’ll work.”
“Not without Logan,” Gabe said. “Not without my son.”
Rosemarie’s eyes held no pity. “It’s nice that you care about him.” She shot a stream of lighter fluid into the fire and the flames shot up.
Robin let out an involuntary yelp. “Rosemarie, don’t!”
“What is wrong with you?” Gabe was nearly shaking. “Your father was awful to you, so you want to take my son away from me?”
“Some things can’t be helped.” Rosemarie’s expression through Logan’s face was stoic. “Some wrongs need to be righted. Even if that means people get hurt.”
“You’re not making any sense,” Robin said. “We can get rid of him. We can protect—”
“Like you kept the people away?” Rosemarie shook her head and started pouring lighter fuel all around the fire. “Why should I trust you?”
Monica watched in shock as Rosemarie stood in Logan’s body and started pouring lighter fluid everywhere, dousing the pine needles around the stones and getting dangerously close to Logan’s clothes.
“Oh, I do not think so.” Monica stood and grabbed the fire extinguisher from Gabe. “Enough, young lady. This is ridiculous.” She broke the seal on the can and shot a heavy stream of foam at the roaring campfire.
It might be a good size campfire, but it was still just a campfire. It went out in seconds, leaving Rosemarie standing in Logan’s body, gaping at her while Monica stood with one hand on her fist.
“Doesn’t matter. I have a lighter.” Logan reached in his pocket and drew out a Zippo while he held the lighter fluid in his other hand. “I can still—”
“Nope. I don’t think so.” Monica shot a stream of foam at the base of the boy’s feet. His hands. His arms. Rosemarie was sputtering in rage, and Monica saw Logan’s expressions start to break through.
“Dad?”
“Fight her, Logan!” Gabe grabbed another fire extinguisher and started laying down retardant on the pine needles around Logan. “Shake it off.”
The boy’s face twisted in pain, he collapsed to the ground and threw up. “Dad?”
Gabe ran to his son, tossing the extinguisher to Mark, who continued to spray around the extinguished campfire.
Monica handed her can to Sully; then she walked
over and sat next to Robin, who already had her sketchpad out. “Did you see her?”
Robin had her eyes closed. “I think I saw enough. I’m trying to make the picture clearer.”
Val was on her right and Monica sat on her left. Rosemarie’s spirit might have left Logan, but it was still out there. It could still wreak havoc if they didn’t trap her and whatever malevolent entity was in the old redwood cabin.
The sky was growing lighter. Sully, Mark, and Gabe were crouched around Logan protectively.
Monica stood and held her hand out to Robin. “Will you be able to summon her?”
Robin took a deep breath. “Only one way to find out. The real question is, will Corbin Sanger show his face? All I have is Kara’s description.”
Val said, “Now we find out just how good a sketch artist you really are.”
“Let’s hope it’s better than what I’m expecting.”
Monica felt dread settle in her gut. “We can do this. You got the stuff, Val?”
Val patted the backpack and held out the giant bag of salt. “Mark has more.”
“I think we’ll need it.” Robin nodded at the cabin. “Let’s put a circle around the whole thing.”
“Are you sure?” Monica walked to the quads and grabbed a battery-operated lantern.
“Yeah.” Robin looked to her husband. “We need a circle, Mark. As soon as we’re all inside. Not a single break in the line.”
Mark and Monica exchanged a look, and she read every word in his eyes.
You better protect her.
We will.
Robin strode to the cabin and stood a few feet from the door. “One nightmare down. One to go.”
With Monica and Val standing behind her, Robin walked through the black doorway.
Chapter 28
Rosemarie’s whispering voice was already singing inside.
Psychic Dreams: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (Glimmer Lake Book 3) Page 20
