From the Ashes

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From the Ashes Page 12

by Dale Mayer


  “What else?” Stefan asked.

  Frowning, Rowan racked his brain and then added his grandmother’s words. “And I think that’s it.”

  “What about your own intuition, feelings, premonitions?”

  “I do see some energy,” Rowan said. “But I’m not saying I’m proficient. Something has been odd around the place for the last couple years. It is coming into suicide season, which is a terrible name, but it’s an apt description. Something about this location attracts tourists to come and commit suicide. I think that’s the only reason for my heightened awareness, as I’m trying not to lose anybody.”

  “But you already have. Correct?”

  “If you mean Irene? Yes. Irene may have had something to do with her child’s death four months ago.”

  “What was that bit about sacrifice versus victims?”

  “I don’t really know,” he said, frowning. “Did I say that?”

  A moment of silence followed before Stefan said thoughtfully, “Maybe not. But that’s what I’m getting. Something about a sacrifice versus victims. There is an energy there that I half recognize but it’s changed. It’s connected to this …” his voice trailed off as if he was off in deep thought.

  “Irene might have been a sacrifice?” Rowan asked in confusion. “I’m not sure what you mean about this energy.”

  “I’m not sure either. And no. I think Irene is a victim,” Stefan said, confusing the issue further.

  “Are you saying somebody is behind this?”

  “Somebody’s always behind it,” he said. “The trouble is, we don’t know if it’s somebody in this plane or somebody who has already crossed over to a different existence.”

  At that, Rowan could feel his heart wrenching and his stomach sinking. “Are we talking a ghost?”

  “What would you say Irene’s status is?”

  “I haven’t a clue. Every time I see her, it’s like she’s transparent, except for the look on her face, which is clearly accusatory. And honestly I blame me too. When I saw her body reappear at the top of the cliff, I snatched her up. I carried her away from the cliff’s edge. I knew that edge was seriously dangerous, … but what I didn’t expect was that she would wake up, stand with this blissful look on her face, talk almost normally and run so fast we couldn’t catch her before she did a swan dive over the cliff. The recovery team said she was found facedown against the rocks below, her body with multiple broken bones and just absolutely no chance she could have survived.”

  “No, she probably wasn’t intended to survive,” Stefan said thoughtfully. “Has something like that ever happened before?”

  “Not that I know of,” Rowan said. “I’ve worked here for eight years, and every year the suicides get a little worse.”

  Again came a long silence. “There’s something you’re not telling me,” Stefan said.

  Rowan shook his head. “If it is, it’s because I’m either not thinking of it, or, to me, it doesn’t appear important.”

  “Who was the last person to try to commit suicide before Irene?” Stefan asked.

  Rowan sucked in his breath and whispered, “My boss. The police chief.”

  “Was he somebody you would have thought would have committed suicide?”

  “Absolutely not,” Rowan replied.

  “How did he try?”

  “He ate a bullet,” Rowan replied bluntly.

  “Usually that’s pretty guaranteed, isn’t it?”

  “Unfortunately not. Too often the angle isn’t right. It should be up and back, and I guess, in his case, it was slightly to the side and back, so went out the upper cheekbone.”

  “Interesting,” Stefan said. “How did he feel about suicide season?”

  “He hated it. He had extremely strong feelings about anybody who would come to our town to commit suicide. He felt it was a person’s duty to keep that to themselves and to do it at home.”

  “And where did he commit suicide?”

  “In his office, at his desk,” Rowan replied. “I think I’m the only one who ever questioned it might not have been a suicide attempt.”

  “Any reason why?”

  “The energy,” he said simply. “It was red for anger, for frustration.”

  “Which would fit a suicide, wouldn’t it?”

  “Maybe,” Rowan said. “But I was also looking for a cause. I was looking for sadness or grief or something that would say he had no other option. He is in good standing in the community. His finances are decent. He owns his own home. His wife did pass away about eight years ago, but he never showed that he was so traumatized that he felt the need to join her.”

  “Okay. We’ll put him aside for the moment. Who else?”

  “This year? No one. The season generally ends around October. We had two in October and four in September last year alone. More earlier on.”

  “That is definitely intriguing,” Stefan said. “How many in a season normally?”

  “There is no normally,” Rowan said, rubbing his temples and easing back into his chair. He looked around the chief’s office, where he currently sat. It didn’t feel like his job though. “Every year it’s different. Every year it’s worse.”

  “How are these people dying?”

  “Well, unfortunately a lava fire opens every spring and closes every fall. It’s the favorite suicide method here. Maybe something is in the gases? When the fissure is open, all of a sudden we have a bunch of people committing suicide. I’m searching for answers, and there just aren’t any.”

  “There is always an answer,” Stefan replied. “But it doesn’t mean you’ll find it easily. What is it you want from me?” he asked.

  “I’d like to know how to stop it.”

  “Hmm,” Stefan said. “This Phoenix person is the one I find very interesting. And her unique letter. She’s familiar to me, but I’m not sure how or why …” He cleared his throat. “And she went there to throw it into the fire.”

  “Maybe. She said her father, this cult leader, used to burn her with fire. That this fire came from his fingers. She also said he was in a love-hate relationship with her because he hated that she would be stronger and bigger and better than him, and yet, as his child, he was also proud. It was his job to teach her and to train her, so she could withstand all this fire because she was supposed to rise from the ashes.”

  Stefan sucked in his breath. “Now I remember her,” he murmured softly. “I’m glad you called. She’s been a puzzle. One of those niggling things I can’t forget.”

  “I’m sorry? What was that?” Rowan asked in confusion.

  “A memory from a long time ago. And a reminder of everything coming back around again,” Stefan said. “Have you seen any signs of abuse on Phoenix’s body?”

  “No, not personally,” Rowan replied slowly. “She does have a pretty bad scar along her face, but I haven’t seen her without her clothes on.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Do you think she made this all up?” Everything inside him refuted that. He didn’t want her to be a liar or a fraud. But, at the same time, he didn’t want her story to be real either because that was just too horrifying.

  “It’s hard to say, isn’t it? I’ll have to look into this. I understand that time is of the essence …”

  “More than you realize. I’m afraid she’s more interested in committing suicide than just getting rid of that letter.”

  “She figures the Burning Fires will be the answer to burn this letter with her father’s energy on it?”

  “Yes,” Rowan said. “It appears to be on some very anti-inflammable paper, and I don’t understand what that would be. It’s very thin. Looks like paper but almost with a weave to it. Yet it seems plastic. Makes no sense, I know.”

  “Lots of unique materials are out these days. It’s possible it wouldn’t burn in a fire. What does it say on it?”

  “Something about Phoenix’s destiny.”

  “Definitely enough to give any child nightmares,” Stefan said.

 
; “The other thing is,” Rowan said, “she has no idea if any of her family, and I use the term loosely, are still alive. Because it occurred to me that maybe somebody else was making her life difficult. Maybe they were behind all this. Telling her that she needed to come here, but, at the same time she’s putting the letter into this fire, she’s not planning to jump, but this voice in the back of her head, belonging to somebody else, will tell her to jump.”

  “Autosuggestion?” Stefan thought about that for a long moment and finally said, “Too many variables are here.”

  Rowan waited at the pause in the conversation.

  “Iceland, huh?”

  “I know it’s a long trip, and, by the time you would even make the journey, we could have ten dead people already.”

  Stefan chuckled. “If I were to come over, I wouldn’t be coming on a traditional flight. But it would help a lot if we had somebody there to investigate over there. I’m dealing with a lot here that is keeping my energy split and very needed here.”

  “Wouldn’t that be nice,” Rowan said, a note of humor in his tone. “Do you have psychic investigators?”

  “It’s not that I have any,” Stefan said, “but several are out there, yes.”

  “It would be good if one could be here now,” Rowan said. “I’m feeling like the blind leading the blind.”

  “Try to keep Phoenix safe,” Stefan said. “Anybody who’s been through what she has, and we are assuming her story is true, deserves a chance at a decent life.”

  “I hear you. All the research I found about her father says he was definitely a bastard. A cult leader who abused and tortured his children. Her name itself isn’t mentioned, but then she was a young child, so I’m not sure where the ban on names happens over there.”

  “She shouldn’t have been named,” he said, “but I wonder how many cult children survived.”

  “The article said none. I haven’t told her that.”

  “And honestly that could have been done to protect her,” Stefan said. “By the same token, if it was to protect her, was it to protect anyone else?”

  “Her mother also tried to kill her, and Phoenix ended up getting away, but her mother took her own life.”

  “So Phoenix is already preprogrammed for suicide,” Stefan said. “And you’re sure she had nothing to do with Irene’s death?”

  Rowan stiffened. “It never occurred to me that she might have, but I don’t see how. She’s the one who told me about the woman crying in the woods. She’s also the one I took to pinpoint the location where the woman was in trouble,” he replied. “Phoenix did see what I saw in the sense that she saw Irene’s ghost at the restaurant and in the lobby of the hotel later too. I don’t think Phoenix is involved.”

  “Anybody who has seen Irene after her death to the extent Phoenix has is definitely involved. Sounds like she brought things to a head.”

  “What does that mean?” Rowan demanded.

  “It means, she’s likely the catalyst. The reason this is happening. I wish I could see what that letter looks like.” There was a strange silence to the phone followed by an odd buzzing sound. When Stefan spoke again, there was an odd tone to his voice. “It feels like I’m being blocked. Or that this person has a massive wall I can’t get around.”

  “I have a picture of it,” Rowan said trying to be helpful. He’d met enough people he couldn’t read to understand Stefan’s frustration. “The material has the strangest feel. She called it paper, and it crumpled and stayed crumpled, but then it could straighten out.”

  “She got it from her father?”

  “Yes. He said it was a very special letter, had been in his family for generations, had come from here in Iceland.”

  “Okay,” Stefan said. “If you can send a photo, that would be great. I’ll see if I can find any of my hunters in your area.”

  At the term hunters, Rowan backed up. “What do you mean?”

  “A few gifted people who investigate these types of incidents globally,” he said. “They wouldn’t like it if I didn’t tell them this was happening.”

  “A lot of tourists are here now,” Rowan said. “We’re not fond of the influx, but, at the same time, the storekeepers can use the money.”

  “Of course they can,” Stefan said. “Things like this always bring people and, with people, come problems.” And with that he hung up.

  Rowan sat in the chair for a long time, wondering if he’d done the right thing. When he looked up, he saw the receptionist walking toward him, holding something in her hand. She knocked then opened the door.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “I need signatures,” she said simply. “Order forms for people working, consents for meals for prisoners.” She gave him a hard smile. “It’s your job now.”

  He snagged the paperwork, gave it a quick perusal and then started signing. “The chief is still alive,” he said.

  “Alive is one thing, but obviously he’s not capable of returning to full duties,” she said. “In other words, it is up to you.”

  Chapter 13

  Phoenix waited. When she watched Rowan stride from his office, she knew something was wrong. “I’m over here,” she called with a slight wave.

  He changed direction and came toward her. He sat down in the empty chair beside her and said, “I got hold of him.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?” She brightened at the thought of an expert involved.

  “Maybe,” he said. “He’ll see if he can get somebody to come over and give us a hand.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Seriously? That’s great but … time. I’m leaving in the morning.” She glanced at the clock. “Is it time to meet our six o’clock appointment? I don’t want to miss it.”

  “Yes, I told you that I’d take you there.” He pulled out his phone, dialed somebody and then had a conversation, which she presumed from the subject was with the geologist’s staff. When Rowan said he was heading out to Haro’s place, she wasn’t sure where that was.

  He got off the phone and motioned for her to go before him. She asked, “Where now?”

  “To the geologist,” he answered softly.

  “Oh, good,” she said, excitement overtaking her. “I hope he doesn’t mind.”

  “I’ve already cleared it with him,” he said.

  As he stepped out onto the street, she watched as his gaze searched the crowd around him. “You’re really bothered by something. What’s going on?”

  “Not necessarily anything,” he said. “Just being cautious.”

  “Can this guy you contacted come over?”

  He shook his head. “No. He’s in Seattle and needs to stay there right now. He might be able to do something on an energy level but maybe not. It did sound like he was involved in something that was demanding all his energy there.”

  “Oh,” she said, disappointed. “That makes sense. Not to mention we can’t expect someone to just drop what they are doing and come help us. For all we know he’s involved in a bigger crisis there.”

  “Maybe.” He got into the cruiser and slowly drove out of town. He was just over the overpass when dispatch called. “Hey. There’s a problem over at the Hogarth place.”

  “What problem?”

  The language changed to something she didn’t recognize. When the conversation was done, he growled. “Theo Hogarth, one of Haro’s neighbors, is missing.”

  “Oh, no,” she cried out. “Is it likely serious?”

  “He’s an old man, and his son called it in. Says he’s at the place, and it looks like a struggle occurred.”

  She sagged into her seat, hating the huge punch to her gut at Rowan being called away. Why now? “Look. If you can’t take me there, I can find somebody else, I’m sure.”

  “Like hell,” he said succinctly. “Just hold on. … We’ll get you there.”

  “Maybe,” she said. “But you’re a busy person. I should have thought of that.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” he said.

  As they
drove, she didn’t want to bother him, but her mind was brimming with questions. She wondered if his mood was because of something this other person had said. Hesitantly she started a conversation. “Who was this person you contacted in Seattle?”

  “Stefan Kronos.”

  She felt a jolt a surprise.

  He looked over at her. “Do you know him?”

  She stared out the window. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I think he came with the police that day.” She frowned. “Or maybe someone with a similar name. … Something about him and that energy …”

  “What day are you talking about?”

  “I think he came with the police that day of the raid on the cult,” she said. “At least someone … did.”

  “Why would he have done that?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Remember? I was eleven.”

  “Right,” he said.

  He took a series of turns, while she thought about what a coincidence it would be that Stefan was the same man Rowan was now speaking to many years later. She decided it had to be the wrong person. “No, I don’t think it could have been him,” she said.

  “He didn’t seem to know the name of your father.”

  “Not many did,” she said. “My father would have loved to have been famous but for all the right reasons. I don’t know that infamy was anything he wanted.” Then she shrugged and said, “Don’t mind me. I’m in an odd mood.”

  “I did try to find out about your case, but you’re right. Not a lot of information is available.”

  “No,” she said. “I’ve asked the cops too.”

  “So you connected with them?”

  “At one point, when I was feeling very lost and alone,” she said. “But the cops wouldn’t tell me anything or couldn’t tell me anything.”

  “Maybe one of those DNA ancestry kits might be an interesting route,” Rowan suggested.

  “I thought about it,” she said. “But when you do it, and your name is out there, then they can connect you with all kinds of things. I didn’t want to be that vulnerable.” And then she winced. “Wow, listen to me. Still terrified of other kids.”

 

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