“Then I assume you’ve already realized something is off with Julie Collins?” he continued.
“Yes…if indeed Collins is her last name. Brian, Mary Sue Collins claims she doesn’t have a daughter.”
“No,” Brian said gravely, “but she does have a demon living right in her home.”
“Speaking of that,” Lacey added, “you need to explain how you figured out she’s a demon. I knew there was something wrong with her, but I would have never imagined a demon.”
Brian went to speak, but a bout of cough rattled him. Lacey grabbed the water pitcher and poured him a cup.
Offering it to him, she shook her head. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t be talking about this now. You’ve been through too much. I should go.”
“No,” Brian countered, leaning back down with his cough subdued. “There’s no time to waste. This demon won’t rest until it accomplishes its goal.”
Lacey sighed and sat back into her chair.
Brian cleared his throat, then closed his eyes briefly, trying to muster clarity and energy. “I had already talked to Mary Sue Collins and her daughter, Julie. I didn’t gather much from them at first. Just that Julie took care of her mother, and for that Mary Sue couldn’t be in greater debt. She talked about her daughter as if she was enamored…or brainwashed.”
Lacey nodded, remembering her own encounter with Mary Sue.
“A day later, I kept thinking about the two of them, when something struck me as odd,” Brian continued. “I had asked Mrs. Collins if she could show me a photo of herself and Julie when she was a baby. I thought it’d be a nice addition to my article to show the history of Raven Hills’ generations. First a mother taking care of her daughter. Then the daughter caring for her mother.
“However, when Mrs. Collins headed over to the shelf to get her photo album, she stopped for a moment and hesitated. A glazed look washed over her eyes, and suddenly she couldn’t remember who Julie was. I immediately thought the woman was experiencing a bout of dementia, and had her sit down while I’d look through the family album.”
“And did you?” Lacey asked.
Brian nodded. “Page after page showed a young Mary Sue Collins on the day of her first communion; in the Swiss Alps on a family trip; her wedding day; and horseback riding with her husband. The entire album highlighted everyday events of her life, some meaningless, others important.
“Yet, not one photograph of Julie’s birth, her first steps, first days of school, or any birthdays ever made it into the album. How could a loving mother simply not record her precious daughter’s life in photographs?”
Lacey let our a held breath then sat all the way back in her chair. “Now that you mention it, there were no pictures hanging in the Collins’ home either. It is as if she never really existed.”
“And that’s why I went back over to their home the next day. Something didn’t sit right with me, and I needed more answers.
“I knocked on the door, but no one answered. Twisting the knob I found it unlocked, so I made my way in.
“I overheard a raised voice coming from down the hallway past the kitchen. I followed the sound, Julie’s tone raspy and angry. She muttered angrily at her mother. I went through three bodies for this? To get stuck with you? You worthless piece of crap!”
Lacey’s heart thumped hard against her chest, chills rolling down her spine. “Then what happened?”
“I peeked around the corner and watched Julie pick up Mary Sue by one arm, raising her out of her wheelchair roughly, and then send her down to the basement. She went in after her and I went to leave and call the police.”
An angry vein twitched in Lacey’s temple. “We found Mary Sue chained in her basement. That poor woman! Did Bennett come over immediately? Did he even investigate?” She imagined Bennett rolling his eyes at Brian on the other end of the phone, reluctant to let a town intruder meddle with their affairs.
“I was about to leave and call the police, but I passed a bedroom. The door was open and Lacey, I saw something that rattled my bones.” Brian shuddered at the recollections pooling in his mind.
“What was it?” Lacey pressed.
“I walked in and found thousands of marks painted in red all over the walls. I tried to tell myself they weren’t written in blood, but I can’t say for certain.”
Lacey’s breath caught. “Marks?”
“The same one, repeated all over the walls. A square with a line inside of it.” Brian coughed again, this time the breath knocked out of his lungs violently. A nurse walked in the room, a look of consternation directed at Lacey.
“Miss Shaw, he needs rest. You shouldn’t be here.”
Lacey rose to her feet, casting a worried look on Brian. “I’m sorry, I will go.”
Brian reached for her wrist, pulling her closer. Lacey’s head bent over his as he whispered in her ear. His hot breath tickled her face, and she tried to concentrate on his words.
“I did some research on the symbol. I figured out what it means.” Brian’s words were urgent as he looked at her wide, blue eyes.
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave now,” the nurse called out behind Lacey.
But Brian did not release her. “It’s an Etruscan letter, an old symbol for the letter H.”
Lacey nodded, her mind already spinning. More pieces of the puzzle coming together. Soon the entire picture would come to light, revealing the true evil Raven Hills was experiencing.
“I don’t understand what the connection is, Lacey,” Brian added. “But it’s an important emblem for the demon. My uncle was a priest and growing up he had been summoned to perform many exorcisms. I remembered overhearing him tell my father how he’d recognize the signs of possession. There would be signs, repeated over and over…” He wheezed and winced in pain. “I started to realize the connection between Julie and the Davidsons’ property and went to inspect it one morning.”
Lacey thought back to her last conversation with Diddie. “The morning you asked Diddie to send a letter to Mr. Pert.”
He nodded. “I went into the forest to poke around…and Julie found me there. I thought she’d kill me for sure. I confronted her about who—or what—she was. A demon. But instead of getting rid of me…she, she…” Another bout convulsed his lungs. Then Brian’s eyes started to close, exhaustion taking over.
“Miss Shaw, do not make me call security!” the nurse shouted, running over to the bed and checking over Brian.
“No, it’s fine, I’ll go,” Lacey assured her, placing a hand over Brian’s shoulder affectionately.
She walked out of the hospital room and raced down the corridors, thinking over everything Brian had just told her. He hadn’t finished telling her the whole story, but truthfully, he had given her the most important clue of all, confirming the hunch she had earlier to go to the library.
If the Etruscan box she kept seeing around town—carved in the Derby soaps, around Julie’s neck, and painted obsessively in Julie’s home—was the letter H, then it connected beautifully with the old artifact connecting the town with the first settlers.
The Haas family.
As she spilled onto the walkway and marched away from the hospital, Lacey saw a little shadow watching her from a distance.
Ginny.
Lacey smiled, sensing the time with the little ghost girl was coming to an end. She needed the girl now more than ever, but it was time to redeem little Virginia Kyle for the horrors she’d gone through.
Lacey only hoped she wasn’t too late.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Ginny, I need you to think about that night very carefully,” Lacey prompted with a serious glance. “What happened the night you were murdered?”
Ginny looked back at her with dark eyes, her mind spinning behind those brown irises. She remained silent, as if the memory of that long-gone Halloween night was too dreadful and too distant to remember.
The two of them walked into the library, which would be closing soon. Deputy Morris was
in his office, dutifully guarding the records, but Lacey’s gaze was intent on something else this time.
The Haas book.
She headed over to the right side of the library, the little room housing the artifact lonely and collecting dust. Inching close to the glass case containing the book, Lacey took in a deep breath. How would she get it out of here? She analyzed the case, checking each corner to see if it would lift or unlatch somehow.
She looked over her shoulder. “I need to get this,” she said, her eyes searching for Ginny.
She found the girl standing stiffly at the threshold of the room, unwilling to take one step in. Her eyes went wide as she peered at the Haas book sitting in the case.
“Ginny, are you okay?” Lacey asked.
“The evil book,” Ginny said more to herself. She took one step back, ready to flee.
“No, wait!” Lacey said, then looked in the lobby, hoping her outburst didn’t draw unwanted attention. “What’s wrong? Have you seen this book before?”
“It belonged to Mrs. Dearing,” she whispered.
Lacey nodded and gave her an encouraging smile. “Yes, it did. What else do you know about it?”
“I was confused about her showing it to me.” Ginny’s face contorted into a pitiful expression, as if she was on the verge of tears. The sight broke Lacey’s heart. Usually, Ginny was emotionless and elusive, but the Haas book had triggered some terrible memories. As much as she hated to bring up such awful feelings, she needed Ginny to tell her more.
“Then what happened?” Lacey pressed. Was she about to discover who had killed her and possibly hurt or taken Jane Dearing?
Lacey took in a sharp inhale, her heart racing. “Mrs. Dearing is the last and final descendant of the Haas family. This book belongs to her, technically.” She glanced at it, the strange old manuscript begging for her to scroll through it.
“Don’t touch it,” Ginny begged, taking another step back.
Lacey rushed toward her. The last thing she wanted was Ginny disappearing again. Ginny was there at the very beginning. The strange history and incidents in Raven Hills seemed to have begun when she had been murdered. She was the one who could tell her more about Mrs. Jane Dearing. There was too much at stake now and Lacey needed Ginny’s help.
“What happened that night?” Lacey begged, her tone lowering and softening. More than anything she wanted to wrap her arms around the child, to let her know everything would be okay. “I know something bad happened, and that you were killed. I want to help you.”
“I’m already dead,” Ginny said, a low murmur escaping her thin lips.
“But you’re not at rest, are you?” Lacey asked, tears filling her eyes. “That’s why you followed me from the first day I arrived. Everyone else here didn’t see you, because they refused to. They didn’t want to hear what happened to you because it was too painful, but I want to know. I need to know.
“Ginny, the only way I can free your spirit is if you tell me everything you know.”
There was longing in Lacey’s heart. She had arrived in Raven Hills with a purpose, but now it had become a calling of some sort. Her life’s mission, it seemed, had taken a surprising turn. More than anything—more than restoring peace in the town, destroying the demon, and preventing further atrocities— her goal was to set Ginny free.
The girl looked up at Lacey, her round face gaunt and pale. “She read from it.”
“Mrs. Dearing read from the book? What did it say?”
“She told me she thought my witch costume was the prettiest,” Ginny remembered. “That it was so lovely it deserved an extra heap of candy. She told me to come back later, when the other trick or treaters would be gone, so that no one could get jealous.
“I went to her home and she let me in. We went in the living room, and I thought I’d be getting candy. Instead, she told me to sit down. She then took that book out.”
“What did it say when she read from it?” Lacey said, trying to shake off the chills crawling all over her.
“I don’t know,” Ginny replied.
“Ginny, think hard.”
“I don’t know what she said,” the girl repeated more urgently.
“Please, try. It’s important.”
“It wasn’t a language I could understand.” Ginny turned around and began skulking away.
“Wait, please,” Lacey called out, walking behind the girl. A few library patrons turned their heads at her, probably wondering what this strange outsider was doing talking to herself in their library.
Lacey tried to remain calm, and once their gazes tore away, she knelt closer to Ginny. “She was probably reading in German,” Lacey explained. “Can you tell me what happened after she read?”
Ginny refused to look at Lacey in the eyes, her dark irises void.
“Please,” Lacey implored.
The little girl released a long sigh, and Lacey wished she could feel the girl’s breathe on her face. But Ginny was a ghost, not of the mortal world anymore, and she deserved more.
Ginny remained silent, her gaze staring at nothing, as if she had zoned out.
Lacey waited a few long, painful moments, then realized she had lost Ginny’s help. Something had triggered some terrible memories, and now Ginny had been pushed to her limit.
She straightened, thinking about a way to get the book and trying to figure out how to use it in her favor. She began walking toward the book again when Ginny’s feeble voice trickled in from behind her.
“It came out from the book. A black shadow, like a monster. It had red eyes. Mrs. Dearing fought with it at first. She spoke to it in a strange language, but said a few words in English. She said she needed my life but that it wasn’t allowed to come here.”
Lacey’s blood frosted, turning her numb. She turned around, now facing Ginny again.
The girl continued, her eyes now keenly focused on Lacey. “But it won. It was the price to come here and at the end she let it. And then…then she took a knife and cut my throat.”
Lacey shuddered, a tear trailing down her face. “I’m so sorry, Ginny.”
Ginny’s figure flickered, as if she were a hologram. “She kept saying she was sorry, as she came toward me. Then she looked at the black monster and said, wieder jung.”
Then Ginny disappeared.
Lacey stood there for what seemed to be an eternity. She didn’t want to think about Ginny’s last moments, yet there they were, replaying in her mind. Her hands balled into fists, anger snaking through her.
She looked at the book once more, then at the fire alarm attached to the wall across from it. Rushing toward it, she placed a shaky hand on the handle, ready to put an end to Raven Hills’ terrors. Without giving it much thought, she pulled the handle down, the blasting of alarm bells suddenly filling the library.
What followed were the frantic shouts of people rushing to the exit.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
With the Haas book safely tucked under her shirt and away from prying eyes, Lacey scurried out of the library. After smashing the glass case to pieces with the heel of her shoe, she had taken advantage of the commotion caused by the fire alarm to retrieve the old book.
Veering off from the front lawn, where library patrons and staff had gathered while waiting for the fire truck to arrive, she marched to the back of the building where she had instructed William to wait.
She spotted his truck and hurried inside of it.
“Still want to go through with this?” William asked.
“We have to,” Lacey replied, pulling the book from under her shirt. “You saw that thing in the woods.”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m not sure we want to go back.”
William took the backroad bypassing the center of town, hoping not to run into Bennett or his men. Bennett had wanted to assemble a team and get into the Davidson Forest with a contemplated and careful approach. Sensible, Lacey thought, but too much of a time waster. Typical of her, she’d rush in, confront the problem, and figure it
out as she went.
“So what’s the plan?” William inquired.
“The book is the plan.” Lacey tapped her fingers on the Haas book sitting on her lap.
“Most of that thing is written in German, probably,” he argued. “How are we going to know what we’re looking for?”
Lacey shrugged. “We’ll figure it out. How’s Brian?”
“I stopped by to see him earlier. He’s on the mend, getting his strength back,” William reassured. “Lacey, should we have some type of weapons with us?”
“That thing is supernatural, William,” she argued. “We don’t have any supernatural weapons against it.”
William sighed, no doubt wondering how the hell they’d defeat the demon. They didn’t have much time to brainstorm, but Lacey opened the Haas book sitting on her lap.
She noticed her hands shake, the book emanating a strange energy. She remembered Ginny’s recounting of the night she died at the hands of Jane Dearing, how the woman had read from this very book. She could sense the evil within, and imagined the awful sight of the demon summoned by something as inconspicuous as a book.
“It’s a grimoire!” she cried out. “It has to be! Jane summoned some evil from it.”
William raised an eyebrow and cast a worried glance on the book. “Like something a witch reads from?”
She nodded. “It has to help us get rid of this demon.”
“Sure you don’t want to change your mind?” he asked Lacey. “Once we confront this thing…”
“We have to,” she muttered, and continued poring over the book. “Ginny remembered Jane Dearing say something to the demon: Wieder jung. Do you know what that means?”
“No,” William replied, then gave her a side glance. “Wait, Ginny saw Mrs. Dearing?”
“She was killed by her.”
William’s head nearly snapped off his neck as he shot her a shocked look. “What?!”
Lacey bit her lip, another glimmer of tears forming in her eyes. “Virginia Kyle was a sacrificial lamb of some sort. Mrs. Dearing had this book in her possession the night of Ginny’s murder. She invoked the demon and then killed Ginny. But why?”
Raven Hills- Unraveling Evil Page 16