by M. J. Caan
“But what about her claims that this is her house?” asked Jasmin.
“Checked that as well. The house is in his name. Bank records show there was never a mortgage; place was bought and paid for in cash.”
“This just doesn’t make sense,” said Torie. “If she isn’t his mother, then who is she?”
“Why don’t we just ask her?” said Glen. “She seems perfectly lucid and is responding well to the nutrients I’ve got running.”
Torie agreed and moved to sit next to the lady. She placed her hand gently on the woman’s forearm, just below the insertion point of the intravenous catheter Glen had placed. It was fed by a bag of fluids that hung from the tall bedpost at the head of the bed.
“Hi there, do you remember me?”
The woman’s sightless eyes turned in Torie’s direction. “Yes. Torie, right?”
Torie smiled. “Yes, that’s right. You seem to be feeling much better.”
“My back aches. I feel sore all over.”
“We are going to help you with all of that. But first, we need some information if you could help us. Can you tell us your name? Do you know it?”
The woman’s eyes grew large with surprise. “My name? Of course I know it. I’m old, not senile. My name is Effie. Effie Kandan. And this is my house.”
Torie looked over at Max who had written her name down and left the room. She heard him descend the stairs as he headed for the computer in his SUV.
“It’s nice to meet you, Effie,” Torie said. “Effie, do you know how long you’ve been lying in this bed?”
Her gray eyebrows furrowed together, and her mouth moved silently as she seemed to be counting to herself.
“Well, I’m seventy-six years old and if I remember, my son put me here shortly after I came for a visit.”
“And when was that?” asked Torie.
“Eight years ago, I believe. I lived with my sister until then.”
Torie sucked in air and looked at Jasmin and Glen. Glen frowned, shaking her head as she whispered to Jasmin.
“Effie, are you saying your son has kept you in your bed for eight years?” asked Jasmin.
“No, not the entire time. He locked me in my room first. He only confined me to my bed a couple of months ago, I think. But it’s hard to remember that. I feel like I’ve been stuck in a dream for some time and am only just waking up.”
Torie swallowed hard, her empathy for the woman mixing with her anger for the son.
“Where is Terry?” asked Effie, she seemed startled, almost as if she were only just remembering the man who had done this to her. “He hasn’t been around lately. He always brings me my tea and we watch my shows together.”
Her voice was fading, and Torie could tell that she was slipping back into memories of a time before whatever had led her to be in this position.
She gave a quick glance to Jasmin before leaning in to comfort Effie. “We are going to try and find out what happened, and we will look for your son as well.”
She had no idea why she lied to the woman, other than to protect her from more pain. She knew that at some point they would have to tell her that her son was dead, but she didn’t think Effie was in a place to hear that just yet.
Effie closed her eyes and seemed to relax, drifting off to sleep. Torie let go of her arm and moved to join her friends just as Max returned to the bedroom.
“No luck on the name Effie Kandan. At least not locally. I fed her name to a friend of mine down in Trinity that has access to a larger, nationwide database. We’ll see what that turns up. You get anything else out of her?”
“She said her son has kept her locked away in here for eight years,” said Jasmin, looking sadly at the frail older woman.
“I don’t see how that is possible,” said Glen. “She’s clearly not as in command of her faculties as I thought. She’s confused; not realizing how much time has passed.”
“Could she have been lying in this bed for months?” asked Torie.
Glen thought for a moment. “Possibly. If whoever did this was caring for her, washing her, moving her around. Maybe.”
“What kind of monster would do this?” demanded Jasmin. “I mean, it couldn’t have been the mayor, right? He was a good man.”
“Or so we thought,” said Glen.
“Maybe this town didn’t know him as well as you think. Good men can do very bad things when no one is watching them. You said yourself that he pretty much kept to himself, that no one knew much about his personal life.”
“Yes, that’s true,” said Jasmin. “But this…” She waved her hand at the space around her. “Someone would have to be clearly unwell to do this. Plus, where did the magic binding come from? That was some serious mojo locking her in place.”
“And that’s why I don’t think we should leave her alone,” said Torie. She had been thinking about Max’s request and found herself agreeing with the wolf. “Glen, what will happen to her if she goes to the hospital?”
“Well, more likely than not she will be turned over to the state and placed in a geriatric care facility. They will do a search for any next of kin; but if Max can’t turn anything up on her, there is no reason to think the state system will.”
Torie frowned and looked back at the woman. “I can’t stand the thought of her being in one of those places. No. She will come stay with me until we can figure this out. Can you help with her care until she’s healed?”
“Of course,” said Glen. “Glad to. I’ll go grab some supplies from the hospital and meet you back at your place tonight.”
“Good. I’ve already called Elric and asked him to move some of the extra furniture from my guest house into your house,” said Jasmin. “At least that way, you will both have a bedroom set up while you wait for your delivery in a couple of days.” She saw the way Torie was looking at her. “What? Oh please, like there was ever a chance you were going to let her go anywhere else. I know you, Torie Bliss.”
Torie laughed. “Yes. Yes you do.”
Max had wrapped the old woman in a blanket and carried her gently down the stairs where they placed her in the back of Glen’s first responder wagon. They made their way to Torie’s new home, and Max lifted her out of the vehicle and headed for Torie’s large, double-door entry.
“I’m going to run up to my place and get some nourishing herbs that will help her heal,” said Jasmin, leaning out of her driver’s side window before easing her car back onto the main road and heading for her home.
Torie waved after her and then turned to head back into her home. One of the things she had been sure to build with her new house was a sizable greenhouse in which she would be able to grow her own supplemental herbs and plants. Like the rest of the house, it wasn’t ready just yet, and she cursed herself for having been so slow in getting everything in place.
Elric opened the doors and met them on the porch.
“Everything is set. I moved the furniture from Jasmin’s guest house into the main and secondary bedrooms on the main floor. I figured she would not be in any condition to tackle the stairs daily.”
“Perfect,” said Torie, leaning forward to give him a quick peck on the lips. “I can’t thank you enough for doing this.”
“Hey, it’s what I’m here for,” he said.
“Really?” said Max. “A powerful werewolf, one of the most feared enforcers in all of Trinity Cove, and now you’re a furniture mover.”
Torie rolled her eyes at Max’s jab. She knew deep down he was happy for his old beta, but she wished that sometimes he would curb the jabs he threw Elric’s way. For his part, Elric just smiled and shook it off.
“I think we are both a lot better off now than when we were in Trinity. You don’t fool me; I can tell you’re loving your new role as peacekeeper.”
Max didn’t respond, just shouldered his way past him into the large entry of the home. Effie began to moan, twisting in his arms.
“What is it? What’s happening?” Torie asked.
“
I don’t know. She was out cold and now, she’s getting agitated again,” replied Max.
Glen rushed to his side to examine the woman. “Get her into the bedroom. Something isn’t right.”
Max followed Torie as she led them down a back hall to the space that Elric had set up for them. For a guest room it was spacious with a large window looking out over the graceful, sloping back yard. A set of French doors led to a private deck as well.
Max placed her on the bed that had been positioned to take in the views and stepped back so that Glen could examine her.
The nurse checked her vitals and breathing.
“Her heart rate is increasing, and she seems to be having trouble breathing. But there isn’t anything that should be causing this.”
Torie looked on in panic as the old woman struggled to draw breath, watching as Glen feverishly dug into her bag for any meds that she felt might help the situation.
“It’s almost as if she is having a reaction to something,” said Glen. “But we haven’t given her anything.” She glanced quickly about the room. “There are no flowers in here, nothing heavily scented that she could be reacting to; I don’t get it.”
Torie’s eyes lit up. Had it not been so comical she would have smacked herself in the forehead for having a V8 moment.
“Of course, why didn’t I consider it? The magic that bound her. There may be some residual traces of it clinging to her. It could be reacting to the wards built into the home. Let me see if I can temporarily drop them, see if it makes a difference.”
She stood and closed her eyes, stretching her mind out to feel for the mystical barriers she and Jasmin had erected. Waving her hand, she pulled them down, letting them go slack for the moment.
Almost at once the older woman began to settle back down. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment and a slight smile crossed her lips as her breathing returned to normal.
“Okay, well, whatever you just did seems to have done the trick,” said Glen. “I’m going to go get some meds for her and some bandages and salves to help with those bedsores. I’ll be back in an hour. Call me immediately if anything changes with her.”
“I’m heading out too,” said Max. “I need to start chasing down any leads as to who this woman is and what her connection to our dead mayor is.”
Effie’s eyes flew open. “What did you say? Did someone just say my son is dead?”
Grief racked her voice as she began to cry, her tiny body contorting as emotion took her over. “Oh God no…please tell me it’s not true. He can’t be dead. He’s all I have. Who will take care of me now?”
Torie moved to comfort her, shooting Max an irritated look. Glen moved to her bag, taking out a small bottle and a syringe. The thought of giving the woman a full sedative, without the proper equipment to monitor her was not something she relished, but she could also see that Effie’s grief was causing her considerable pain and stress. She pushed the small needle into the IV in the woman’s arm and gave it a small push. The dose was not even enough to harm a child, but she hoped it would have a calming effect on the poor lady.
It worked, and she started to relax, her body growing limp in Torie’s arms. Torie eased her back onto the pillows and stroked her hair, pushing a stray strand off her face.
“Well, that was not how she should have found out,” she said, giving Max another dose of side eye. “But we will deal with that later. How long will she sleep?”
“With that dose, maybe just an hour. You’ll have to be ready to address this with her when she wakes up,” said Glen.
That wasn’t all Torie had to address.
Why was there still magic in her system? The spell she and Jasmin had performed should have removed all traces from her. Maybe the answer to that would help them figure out just what was going on here.
6
Torie stood in her new kitchen, taking it all in as the last of the furniture had finally been delivered. Cooking had always been one of her passions. The one activity that never failed to bring her peace.
Even when she would have been considered wealthy, she always prepared dinner for her family. Her ex-husband could never understand why she didn’t let the “help” do the cooking. He never understood that the kitchen was her refuge; the one place where she had complete control over what came in and out of her space. There were no expectations; no pressure to perform; no criticism. Well, except for her own self-criticism at the roast not turning out perfectly or the soufflé not rising just so.
And she was working on that as well. In this, her second start in life, she was determined to be kinder to herself; to give herself grace in all areas of her life, not just the kitchen.
For better or worse she had pretty much designed every aspect of the house herself, right down to the finishes and the soothing light gray paint colors that could be found throughout. The kitchen had been her focal point throughout the build, however.
She had picked out a beautiful white quartz with just a touch of blue-gray veining running through it for the counter tops and the massive center island. The island was a single piece that had taken workers the better part of a day to move in and install. The waterfall design would be timeless over the blue cabinetry. She had gone with white cabinets for the rest of the kitchen, pairing it with a white and blue glass backsplash.
All of it was set off by the pewter hardware on the drawers and cabinet doors that perfectly played off the custom pewter appliances. A large, commercial refrigerator and a massive eight-burner high-end range added just the right amount of bling to her design.
She had also installed a double wall oven, customized to her height. Her knees were not what they once were, and they loved to remind her of that at every Thanksgiving when she bent over to haul a twenty-pound turkey out of the oven.
“Why do you always cook such a large bird when there is only the three of us?” her husband would ask. Always with that tone. It wasn’t menacing or mocking. Just judgmental with a side dish of disappointment.
Why hadn’t she seen him for what he really was sooner?
What she had secretly always hoped was that someone; family, friends, co-workers, would announce that they suddenly found themselves without a place to go for Thanksgiving and she would be able to open her home to them last minute. Assuring them it was no problem, and indeed it wouldn’t be because she always made sure there would be more than enough for everyone.
But that never happened.
Now that she was in a place to do so, however, she could fulfill that secret hope she carried. With a kitchen like this, she could feed a small army.
Heck, she might even be capable of coming up with something to win the chocolate competition this year at the festival. If she decided to enter it, which she had still been debating.
The kitchen, combined with the dedicated dining space, could easily seat up to fifteen people. She would make sure that holidays would be festive for all her new friends.
No, that wasn’t right. If she had learned anything since moving to Singing Falls, it was that these people had become her family. When someone saves your life, and vice versa, you tend to move a little beyond the friend stage.
She walked through the kitchen to large glass doors that led to the expansive patio and decking that overlooked the backyard. Because the house was built on a lot with a severe slope to the back, one that dove downward at a forty-five-degree angle before hitting the old growth trees, she had to have a massive retaining wall built to create a level backyard.
It had been worth the extra money as there was now room in the back not only for her greenhouse, but also for a fire pit, built-in custom grill area that included a stone pizza oven, and a second seating area under the impressive foliage that rose all around her. Building up the backyard had the effect of bringing the space up into the middle of the trees. She had contemplated installing a pool as well but knew it would be a nightmare to maintain because of the constant falling leaves. Plus, she didn’t swim and wasn’t particularly fond of
being in water.
She walked to the edge of the yard where an impressive five-foot iron railing rose to keep anyone from stumbling over the edge of the retaining wall, and just as importantly, keep anyone outside the property from getting in.
If they could scale that retaining wall and make it over the railing, they would have to be a Spiderman. Or a werewolf. Or a vampire. Or…she cut that train of thought off. There were probably any number of supernaturals in Singing Falls who would have no problem getting to her house if they wanted to.
Hence the array of wards she and Jasmin had created. Getting onto the grounds was one thing; making it into the house was something else altogether.
She made her way back inside, through the kitchen, and into the open great room. She smiled at her new furnishings. The sheer size of the room had demanded large pieces, but she had made sure they were comfortable. Couches that invited one to nap on but weren’t so deep that they were difficult to get out of. Large, modern wingback-style chairs that flanked the massive fireplace just begged for someone to crash into them with a good book.
She had also made sure there were plenty of options in the space for her to put a large Christmas tree up come holiday time. High ceilings had been a must and that meant she could set up the tallest one she could drag in. Actually, the tallest one that Elric could drag in. What was the point in having a boyfriend with super strength if it wasn’t used to move furniture and lug things about?
Boyfriend.
It was something she had only recently allowed herself to think of Elric as. She had taken her fair share of ribbing from Jasmin and Fionna the first time that word had slipped her lips in conversation. Truthfully, she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the word itself. It seemed like something out of place for a woman of her age, but what else was there? Man-friend? Lover…the very thought of saying that made her shiver in disgust. Until something better came along, boyfriend it would be. The term had become part of her inner and outer vernacular when she referred to the wolf. He had become a part of her and as natural to her as breathing.