Seeing Darkness

by Heather Graham

  She offered him something to drink; he opted for coffee.

  They hadn’t been there more than a few minutes when there was a knock on the door. Kylie started toward it, but Jon put up a hand and walked over to the door. She realized he had taken a casual stance, but one that would allow him to reach back to his weapon—in his holster, she thought—in a split second.

  He looked out the peephole, and then frowned and threw the door open, stepping out into the hall. “Lock the door.”

  As he headed down the hallway, toward the bank of elevators, Kylie shut and locked the door, then bolted it. She was too surprised to feel any kind of fear. She hoped he would return quickly, that it would be nothing, that Jon was just playing everything safe.

  A second later, there was a huge thud.

  Seven

  The hotel was nowhere near as old as the area in general, having been built in the 1920s, but it was iconic for Salem. It wasn’t as luxurious as modern standards, but it did offer a penthouse level that had suites, all considered worthy of the best patrons. They were named after four of the magistrates and justices who presided over the witch trials: Stoughton, Hathorne, Gedney, and Corwin.

  Corwin was the best known and studied, perhaps because his home remained on the tourist and “haunted” trails. That suite was the largest and considered the best in the hotel. Naturally, Michael Westerly would be in one of those suites—most likely the Corwin suite.

  Following the oldest trick in the book, Jon watched the needle atop the elevator doors; only one was moving, heading for the penthouse.

  He raced for the stairs.

  He had just reached the stairwell door when he heard the reverberating sound that might have been something like a sonic boom. Whatever it was shook the hotel itself.

  Striding swiftly to the window at the end of the hall, Jon looked out on the street below. He heard the commotion before he saw the cause: a car had jumped the curb and driven into the front of the hotel.

  He knew the area well enough to be thankful the car had crashed into the front corner of the old hotel. The little boutique and souvenir store nearby closed by seven, meaning it was unlikely anyone within the hotel had been hurt.

  Of course, he didn’t know the fate of the driver. He had his phone out, though he was sure others were already dialing emergency services as well. Still, he put through his call.

  He knew he should head down to the street; his military days had given him a basic knowledge of emergency treatment. He was still torn. He needed to know if Westerly had been tapping at Kylie’s door.

  The right thing to do was hurry down without checking on Westerly’s whereabouts. But as he made his way down the stairs to street level, he kept thinking, what if Westerly had instantly opened his door? What would it prove?

  And if he didn’t—what would that prove? That he was hiding in the suite somewhere and had no intention of appearing at the sound of a knock? Jon had reason to force his way into the man’s suite.

  He dialed Kylie’s phone. She answered on the first ring.

  “Accident in the street below. Stay locked in. I’ll be right back.”

  “The hotel was hit...by a car?” Her voice sounded incredulous. “I just looked out—”

  “Yes, that was the bang. I don’t know much, but I’m checking on the driver or any pedestrians who might have been in the way. Keep your door locked.”

  She was silent—probably just for a second—but he was hurrying.

  He repeated, “Keep your door locked,” and rushed down to the street.

  * * *

  Seconds dragged like hours.

  The minute the car hit, people on the streets had gathered, coming around but keeping a distance. Apparently, someone in the crowd had medical training, a young man who rushed to the car.

  Kylie prayed no one had been in the path of the runaway car. She thought not, because the young man raced straight for the driver’s seat.

  She watched as Jon rushed out from the front of the hotel. He went to the young man, who spoke to him quickly. They opened the driver’s door but didn’t attempt to remove the driver. He must have been bleeding from an injury; she saw Jon rip up the tails of his shirt and hand them over to the young man who proceeded to use the fabric to staunch blood.

  A siren screamed; police cars and an ambulance were quickly on sight. She watched as the EMTs approached, briefly conferring with both Jon and the other man. A collar was set around the driver’s neck and he was stretched out with as little trauma as possible and laid on a gurney.

  Then, the ambulance took off, one policeman in the back with him. Several more stayed behind, evidently to speak to witnesses. One officer seemed to be questioning Jon and the young man who had helped. Other were seeking help from the gathered crowd.

  Kylie saw her friends were part of the crowd now, on the sidewalk staring and talking to one another. Of course. The Cauldron was almost directly across the street from the hotel, not much of a walk. Those in the restaurant would have heard the noise.

  Minutes had passed; it seemed like forever. Then, even while the officer was still speaking with Jon, Kylie saw that Corrine, Jenny, and Nancy had seen Jon, and they started toward him, looking anxious, certainly worried about the accident and probably about her as well.

  Kylie thought she heard footsteps hurrying along the hallway and she turned from the window, afraid she’d hear those footsteps pause by the door.

  She realized she was afraid to stay inside, even though the door was locked. She wanted to be downstairs, trying to understand what was going on along with what now appeared to be several people staying in the hotel and dozens of workers and tourists from the late-night venues.

  The footsteps continued...right on past her room. She breathed a sigh of relief. She was letting her imagination run away—but it was hard not to.

  Growing increasingly anxious, Kylie looked out the window again. Jon was still speaking with a policeman. She didn’t see her friends anymore.

  There was a knock at the door and the sound of a key sliding against a lock; her heart seemed to stop.

  Nancy called out, “It’s us!”

  Kylie dashed over and took off the deadbolt. Nancy entered, followed by Corrine and Jenny, who were both talking at once.

  “Incredible! I’ve heard of cars driving into yards and houses, but this is Salem. There’s no big highway here—not in the historic district,” Corrine said. “We heard the crash in the restaurant!”

  Jenny picked up where she left off. “The driver really slammed into the place. They have structural engineers coming out now, but it seems he got an area with no support walls, or whatever—he hit that area by the door. Some guy in the street was explaining that wasn’t where the support structure or whatever was. So the hotel is safe, or so the night manager has assured everyone. Can you imagine the paperwork on this, or what a mess it’s going to be?”

  “Was anyone hurt on the sidewalk or street?” Kylie asked anxiously.

  “No, it’s a miracle. It happened so late.”

  “The driver?” Kylie asked.

  “He’s alive. From what we gathered, there was a paramedic on vacation from Colorado on the scene—along with Jon!” Corrine said, before pausing to sigh a little dreamily. “Your boy popped right in, helping the paramedic stabilize his position—you have to be really careful about the neck and the back—but so far, the man is alive. Not conscious, and no one knows now just how badly he was hurt. Some people were speculating he might have had a heart attack while driving and lost control of the car. Jon said there was no smell of alcohol, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t on drugs or... Well, it’s all speculation right now.”

  Kylie would have protested that Jon wasn’t her boy, but Corrine had moved on so quickly there was no point.

  “We do need sleep,” Nancy said. “But now we’re all so wired!”r />
  “We can watch the news,” Jenny said, “until we wind down a little. I doubt they’ll know anything other than a man crashed into an iconic hotel, but I’m willing to bet there will be some coverage.”

  “Great idea,” Kylie muttered. “Let’s watch more about what’s keeping us all up.”

  “You didn’t come down,” Nancy said thoughtfully. “That was good. Jon told us he suggested you stay here. He also told us that Senator Westerly is staying here.” She frowned. “He is very protective of you. Well, all of us, I think. But mainly you. He’s a good guy.” Corrine walked over to Kylie, setting her hands on her shoulders. “What are you going to do? Are you going to stay on for the days you have left?”

  Kylie didn’t have to answer—there was a knock on the door. For a moment, she felt her stomach tighten, but Jon called out, saying it was him.

  Corrine ran to the door to let him in. “You finished with the police? What happened? Or how on earth did it happen?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t see the accident,” he said. “Same as you, just the aftermath.” He looked across the room at Kylie and said, “No one knows. The driver is unconscious, and the police will speak with him, I’m certain, as soon as possible. The doctors have the say on that. Anyway, you’re all here and set for the night.”

  “Yes,” they all said in unison.

  Jon nodded with satisfaction. “Then I’ll leave you for the night.” He still hesitated.

  Nancy said, “You can watch TV with us for a while.”

  He smiled. “That’s okay. I was just checking... Kylie, everything is all right?”

  She managed a smile. “Despite a hole in the hotel and a poor man gravely injured in the hospital, yes.”

  “Anything...else?”

  “No. I stayed locked in. Watched you all from the window.”

  “Well, then, good night,” Jon said.

  “Wait,” Corrine said firmly.

  Jon paused, arching a dark brow.

  “We leave tomorrow. And Kylie—”

  “Maybe Kylie should get back to New York,” he said softly.

  “Yes, yes, we can all leave together then,” Jenny said.

  “No, no. Kylie isn’t going,” Kylie said firmly.

  “Kylie,” Corrine said, “on top of everything else, a car just drove into our hotel! I love Salem, but at this time, it seems Salem is dangerous for you.”

  “Oh, come on,” Kylie protested. “I’m a little nervous, yes, but as I said, this has to be solved for me ever to be sane again. Oh, Corrine, forgive me. I wanted this weekend to be so perfect for you, and I’m afraid that—”

  “The weekend has been perfect for me. You all were wonderful. You did exactly what I wanted. As far as I’m concerned, it was all great. And so what if things are weird? Maybe the car crashing into the hotel did have something to do with all of this. You just never know.”

  Nancy cleared her throat. “Seriously? I want Kylie safe, too, but I don’t think that a car driving into the hotel can have anything to do with anything. And while it seems bizarre to even contemplate that Michael Westerly is in the hotel, he is a politician. And what’s that thing about politicians? Want to know when they’re lying? When they open their mouths.”

  They were all silent. “Yes, Michael Westerly is in this hotel,” Kylie said at last. “But I don’t have to stay here. There are dozens of places nearby. But I’m not going to leave. Not until we know something.”

  “Kylie, that’s silly,” Corrine protested.

  “No, it’s not.”

  “You should stay away from Westerly. He speaks in Boston on Tuesday. If you’re in New York, you’ll be safe. Not that he knows you think he’s a murderer anyway, but still, there’s safety in distance.”

  “Is there?” Kylie asked, stepping forward determinedly. “People heard me in the bar, people who might have talked. He may know it was me who suggested he was a murderer. And, if I’m not crazy and it was him, then he doesn’t hesitate to kill. And he’d find me in New York—or anywhere. This must be solved if I’m ever going to feel safe again. I tried to explain that to you. And the best way for me to help see that it’s solved is to stay here.”

  “Alone?” Jenny gasped with horror. “Maybe I can find a way to call in and get out of work. I can at least try—”

  “She won’t be alone,” Jon said.

  They all turned to stare at him. Assuming, maybe, that he intended to move right in with Kylie. And while they all liked him, they were also protective, and might be a little worried about a man making such an easy assumption.

  He smiled ruefully, his head lowering for a minute, amused. “Two more Krewe agents are due to arrive, Devin Lyle and Craig Rockwell. We’ll keep this suite. Devin and Craig can take the second room. They’re a married couple,” he added quickly.

  Silence greeted his words.

  Then Jenny gasped. “Devin Lyle? I know that name. She writes children’s books. And she’s an FBI special agent or whatever?”

  “She’s still a writer. She’s on the books as a consultant. We do that often, making use of people’s...talents, while still allowing them their dreams.” He shrugged. “Adam Harrison, who is the director in charge of our unit, also owns a theater and is involved in other endeavors. We’re a varied group.”

  “Uh—great. I wish I was going to meet her! My nieces are in love with her books,” Jenny said.

  “I’m sure it can be arranged sometime.”

  “Wow,” Jenny said.

  Another awkward silence followed.

  Kylie said, “Well, I’ll be with people, well protected. Great. That’s wonderful.”

  “I’ll see that Devin and Lyle arrive as quickly as possible. They’ve been assigned to this already,” Jon said. “And Devin owns a home just outside the historic district, toward Danvers. We might wind up out there. We’ll see. Also, my field supervisor, Jackson Crow, was here before—he could be heading back. And there is another set of agents from this area as well who might come in when they finish with their current assignment. There will be no need for Kylie to be alone.”

  Corrine, Nancy, and Jenny turned as a threesome to look at Kylie, as if they were parents about to allow their teenage child a sleepaway trip for the first time.

  “I guess...” Nancy began.

  “That will be all right,” Corrine finished.

  Kylie laughed. “Yes, it will be fine. I’m a coward. But I’ll be surrounded, with FBI! And I’ll never feel safe again if I’m not able to see this through to the end.”

  Everyone was silent again. They all knew there were murders that were never solved.

  “This will be solved,” she insisted.

  “Yes,” Jon agreed. Then, because no one spoke, he added, “Good night, then. I’ll see you before you leave.”

  “We won’t leave her alone,” Corrine said loyally.

  “Of course not. I’ll be here between nine and ten in the morning. Will that do?”

  “We aren’t in a hurry. We don’t really have to leave until early afternoon,” Corrine said.

  “Between nine and ten,” Jon told them. He stepped out.

  Corrine went over to the door and locked it.

  “It’s almost 3:00 a.m.,” Nancy murmured. “I guess we should try to get some sleep.”

  “I’d have slept better if Kylie had just asked him to stay here tonight,” Corrine said, turning away from the door. “Kylie, you could come home with me.” She put up a hand to stop any protest before she could finish. “Yes, I know, you live alone. But you could come and stay with Derrick and me—”

  “No, no, no, Nancy, please! I’ve explained the way I feel. And I really have faith in Jon and his group of agents. They won’t leave me alone.”

  “Great. You’re going to be protected by a woman who writes children’s books,” Corrine said.
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  “Really, really good children’s books,” Jenny said.

  “I think that if she’s a consultant, she has to be good at something important. And I’m going to be fine. I swear it,” Kylie said.

  “Hey, it won’t be bad getting to know tall, dark, and FBI a little better, too,” Jenny said.

  “You two do look good together,” Nancy commented.

  Corrine laughed. “Either one of them looks good, together or not. That’s beside the point. Anyway, it’s a doomed romance. Kylie just got her dream job. Jon Dickson is with a special unit that’s in Northern Virginia or Washington, DC, and long-distance relationships don’t really seem to go...the distance. But seriously—”

  “Seriously, I’m staying,” Kylie said. “And, I’m going to get some sleep!”

  She headed into the room she shared with Corrine and quickly got ready for bed. She could hear the others talking, but the night had taken its toll.

  Although she thought she might lie awake for hours, she felt herself drifting almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

  It was strange, but she still thought she was awake—or at least, half awake—when she started dreaming. She wasn’t hypnotized, so that was no excuse.

  But she could swear that she opened her eyes and looked up—and saw Annie Hampton standing by her bed.

  In any conscious realm, she surely would have screamed. But she didn’t.

  The woman just looked down at her, smiling sadly. It almost seemed that she brushed a lock of hair from Kylie’s face. And she said very softly, “Thank you. Thank you for seeing, for believing, and for trying to help.”

  Then she was gone, and once again, Kylie wasn’t sure if she was awake or asleep, but it quickly proved to be sleep.

  She hadn’t drawn the drapes and the sun was just starting to shine into the room when she awoke. Apparently, Corrine hadn’t thought to close them, either. It was barely the crack of dawn.

  Kylie crawled out of bed, closed the drapes, and crashed back into the bed. It was far too early to be awake and her body must have agreed. She wondered for a moment about her strange vision.