Secrets of Innocence

by V.

  “My friend recognized him. Does he wear some sort of special ring?”

  “Yeah, so what?”

  “What’s his last name? Where does he live?”

  The waitress looked around uncomfortably as a couple of men stood up from their table and approached Elisabeth.

  “Why are you so interested?” asked a short, bald, obese biker with tattoos on his arms, neck, and head, easing uncomfortably close to her.

  She stepped back to find that the other man, just as intimidating, but slightly taller and with long, greasy black hair, stood directly behind her. She looked over at the waitress who simply shrugged and smiled.

  “Look, my friend recognized him, and I guess they left together, for old times’ sake,” she said in a small voice.

  The fat man grinned, exposing greenish teeth. “What’s your interest in the ring?”

  Recoiling from the sight and smell of his teeth, Elisabeth leaned back. She forced a feeble smile and answered, “Nothing. My friend said he recognized the ring, that’s all.”

  “Your friend a biker?” the longhaired man grumbled behind her.

  Elisabeth turned toward him and bumped into the protruding belly of the tattooed bald man. “I just met him. He might be,” she said faintly.

  “C’mon you guys, give the girl some breathing room,” the waitress commanded. “Don’t pay attention to these assholes, hon, they’re only messing with you.”

  Elisabeth turned to the waitress and managed a weak smile as she said, “Thank you.”

  The two men, however, didn’t budge, trapping Elisabeth between them.

  The longhaired man leaned toward her, sniffing at her hair, and whispered, “You sure smell nice. Why don’t you dump that jerk and come with us? We’ll help you forget him.”

  Disgusted, Elisabeth pushed him away. The tall man lost his balance and bumped into his fat companion, who shoved him back.

  Elisabeth glanced around the coffee shop. None of the other patrons were bikers, and several were eyeing the goings on with curiosity, but no fear—locals, entertaining themselves at the expense of an outsider.

  With renewed courage she faced the bikers and the waitress. “Will you please tell me where I can find this Hank?”

  “He’s a loner, that one,” the waitress replied. “He’s got his—”

  “None o’ your business where he lives,” the fat man interrupted.

  “It is, if my friend is with him,” Elisabeth said resolutely.

  “What if your friend dumped you?”

  “He wouldn’t,” she said with conviction.

  “A man takes off like that, hon,” the waitress said, “you’re better off without him.”

  Elisabeth turned and glared at her. “Maybe, but I’m determined to find out if he’s man enough to tell me to my face.”

  Two of the women in one of the booths applauded. “Way to go, girl,” said the younger one.

  “Hank’s got a place up there off Fish Lake Road, way up in the hills,” said the older woman sitting with her.

  “Now, Mary Jo, what’d you have to go and do that for?” asked the longhaired man.

  “She’s got the right. Leave her be. She’s got bigger balls than you two put together,” the older woman said. “Now sit down and finish your coffee ’fore I come teach you some manners.”

  The two men mumbled under their breath and slouched back to their table.

  “Thanks,” Elisabeth said as she rushed out of the coffee shop.

  She jumped in her car, started the engine, and entered Fish Lake Road in her GPS, but the only option it gave her was in Leavenworth. Frustrated she took off in a storm of gravel and merged back onto the two-lane road.

  A few hundred feet ahead she pulled into a gas station. She stepped into the small old-fashioned roadside convenience store and paid for a full tank. “Can you tell me where Fish Lake Road is?”

  The attendant, a man as old as the store, looked puzzled for a moment and then smiled. “You mean South Fish Lake Road, it’s up north of here. You can either go past Conconully and through the National Wild Life refuge on unpaved roads, or back down to Okanogan, catch the 97 and head north till you get to Pine Creek Road, and then get off on South Fish Lake Road or Pine Creek Road. I don’t recall how the signs are labeled from 97. You can’t miss it, drive up the highway and you’ll find it veering off to the left.” The old man looked quizzically at Elisabeth. “You look real familiar.”

  She smiled. “I’m a volunteer at the hospital up in Okanogan. Maybe you met me there.”

  He smiled, showing a wide gap left by his missing front teeth. “That’s it. You read to my Lilly when she had her operation. She’s been reading ever since.”

  “Lilly, yes, I do remember your daughter. I’m glad she enjoyed it. I love reading to my patients. How is she now?”

  “Oh, she’s doing well. Her and Alex and the kids live down in Leavenworth now. Got a little curiosity shop in the middle of town. They’re doing fine. She reads to her kids every night.”

  Elisabeth smiled with satisfaction. “That’s wonderful. She was lovely.” “What’s up on South Fish Lake? It’s a lonely road up in those hills.”

  “I’m looking for a guy named Hank. Does he live there?”

  “Sure does. Nasty business, that one. The Ferguson farm’s up there—his folks died, and Hank took it over on account as he’s the eldest. Only it’s on North Pine Creek Road.”

  “And where is North Pine Creek Road?”

  “Right off of South Fish Lake Road or Pine Creek road.”

  Elisabeth frowned.

  “Sounds complicated on account of all these roads having double names from one side to the other, but you can’t miss it,” the storekeeper chuckled. “Keep an eye out for the street signs, there aren’t many, but they’re there.

  Tonasket folks got no imagination when they named their roads. When you come to the sign for North Pine Creek Road, take a right. The Ferguson place is up in the hills. You’ll probably spot an old mailbox with their name on it. But more than likely you won’t find Hank there, and I’m not sure you should go up there on your own anyhow. If you need to talk to him I’d check the jail first.”

  Elisabeth’s eyes widened as she asked, “The jail? Why?”

  “He’s a troublemaker, always in an’ out of jail for one thing or another, a big disappointment to his folks. Nothing like his younger brother, Walter, who makes a good and honest living.”

  “Does Walter live nearby?”

  “He used to live down in Okanogan, but maybe he’s taken off.”

  “Why?”

  “Him and his wife came into some big inheritance. They may have packed up and left.”

  “You said his name is Walter?”

  “Yep, that’s it. His wife’s called Dottie.”

  “Where do they live?”

  “Wait a minute, maybe they’re in the book.” He reached under the counter and produced a beat-up phone book. He searched through it, grabbed a piece of paper, and wrote down the address. “Here,” he said, handing it to Elisabeth. “If they haven’t moved, they should be there. I wrote their phone number, too. You should call before you go to make sure they’re still there.” Elisabeth held out her hand. “Thank you, Mr.—?”

  “Brown, Elmer Brown, Ms. Elisabeth,” he said with a broad smile as he wrapped her hand in both of his.

  “You remembered my name. That’s very nice of you.”

  “You made my girl—well, my grown girl—real happy while she ailed. We’ll never forget you and your kindness. Wait till I tell her you came by.” “Give her my best, please.”

  “You’re welcome to use the phone.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Brown, but I’ve got to rush. I’ll use my cell. You’ve been very helpful.”

  “Take care and come by again,” he called out as she reached the door. “By the way, if you go to Leavenworth, look up my Lilly, their shop is right in front of the big tree in the square. It’s called the Magic Box.”


  “I’ll do that. Thanks again.”

  She returned to her car and dug her cell phone out of the compartment under the armrest. The screen showed several voice-mail messages, all from Sarah.

  Before returning Sarah’s calls, she decided to call Walter Ferguson. There was no answer.

  She dialed Sarah’s number, but the call went straight to voice mail. Elisabeth sighed impatiently while Sarah’s greeting played, and then spoke. “Sarah, sorry I haven’t called you back; I’ve been with Daniel. He remembered some kind of gothic house in Conconully, and we came by to check it out, but we found it to be a crime scene so we took off. We were at a coffee shop, and Daniel recognized a man with a ring and went after him. Now he’s disappeared. The man he went after is a criminal called Hank Ferguson. Please call Williams and tell him about this Hank person. I’m sure he’s familiar with him. He lives in a farmhouse somewhere off of Fish Lake Road or North Pine Creek Road. I’m on my way there to find Daniel.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Eyes closed and breathing with difficulty, a much calmer Sarah lay in a hospital bed. Conrad stood nearby holding her hand.

  Dr. Lawrence gently removed the oxygen mask. “Sarah,” he said, “there’s nothing physically wrong with your eyes, or your lungs, and by now I’m sure you’re aware that you aren’t actually gagged. You’re experiencing these symptoms through your mind only.”

  Without opening her eyes, Sarah nodded.

  “Is it possible you’re having some sort of psychic connection with someone who is blindfolded and gagged?” Dr. Lawrence asked tentatively, glancing at Conrad.

  Sarah nodded.

  Conrad looked at Dr. Lawrence and said, “This all started when we were at the Sheriff’s office trying to figure out where the hell Daniel and Elisabeth were. Sarah felt, or sensed a couple of fists coming right at her.”

  “Fists?”

  “Yeah, she’s had this vision before of a man with a couple of odd-looking rings beating Daniel. Only this time the fists must’ve come right at her.”

  “These rings,” Dr. Lawrence said, “could one be in the shape of a cross?”

  Sarah grabbed his arm. “Yes, yes,” she muttered between coughs.

  “Easy Sarah, don’t overexcite yourself.”

  “How—” she tried to speak, but he stopped her, placing his free hand over hers.

  “Breathe in slowly. Try to stay calm and I’ll tell you.”

  She inhaled and attempted to relax, her hand clasping the doctor’s arm.

  “Several of the wounds on Daniel’s face had the shape of a cross. I imagined that he’d been hit by someone with either a weapon in the shape of a cross or a ring with that shape.”

  Sarah nodded.

  “The other ring she mentioned,” Conrad went on, “is shaped like a skull with a protruding gem.”

  “I’ve come across those rings, but not for a long time.”

  “Williams told us about a gang of teenagers who wore those years ago.” Conrad said.

  Dr. Lawrence remained silent for a moment and then looked at his patient. “Sarah, could you somehow be experiencing what Daniel is currently going through?”

  Sarah opened her eyes, sat up, and gulped air.

  Both men held on to her.

  “I can see, I can breathe.” She looked at the two men by her bedside as tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Conrad embraced her as tightly as she could tolerate.

  “Glad to have you back,” Dr. Lawrence said, smiling.

  “It’s Alexander,” Sarah said. “He made me experience what Daniel’s going through. He’s been kidnapped. His assailant hit him, blindfolded him, and gagged him.”

  “What about Elisabeth?” Conrad asked.

  “No idea. I don’t sense anything about her.”

  “How could Alexander make you experience those things?” Dr. Lawrence asked.

  Sarah rolled her head. “I’ve never felt anything like it before. When I was little, I could sense things that were about to happen or were happening to others, but I’ve never actually felt these things before. The moment you told me that my symptoms might be what Daniel was feeling, I knew you were right. Alexander sensed that I understood his actions, so he let me go.”

  “You said he’s been kidnapped?” The doctor asked.

  “It looks that way,” Sarah answered. “He’s definitely in danger.”

  “Williams should be brought up to speed,” Dr. Lawrence said.

  Sarah looked at her husband and then back at Dr. Lawrence before saying, “He would only suspect that Daniel’s run away. He’s convinced that Daniel’s guilty of something evil and distrusts my visions, as he calls them. This’ll freak him out. He won’t buy it.”

  “We can’t keep Williams out of it,” Conrad said. “He might be hard to convince, but he should be told you’ve sensed that Daniel’s been taken.”

  “I agree,” the doctor said.

  “How do we explain what happened to me? What will my medical chart say about my episode? Psychotic blindness? Extreme anxiety? Crazy woman imagining things?”

  Dr. Lawrence held her hand and smiled. “Don’t worry about that.” “Don’t worry? I made a fool of myself. I can only imagine what the deputies in the sheriff’s office think of me. Let alone the doctors and nurses who saw me go nuts.”

  Dr. Lawrence smiled. “Yes, that’s true, but we deal with people in distress all the time. Your chart will simply say that you’re healthy and your symptoms subsided upon examination.”

  “You’re not going to label me psychotic?”

  He chuckled. “No need for that.”

  Sarah sighed and smiled.

  “I’ll speak with Williams,” Conrad said.

  Sarah squeezed her husband’s hand and smiled. “Thank you, darling. He’ll take it better coming from you than me. I’m almost certain that the man who attacked Daniel has taken him. Alexander made that very clear.”

  Conrad kissed his wife’s forehead. He reached inside his pants pocket and found it empty. “I must’ve left my cell in the car. Doc, is she ready to go?”

  Dr. Lawrence tilted his head before answering, “She’s okay physically, but I’d recommend she stay put a while. This has been a serious shock, and a bit of quiet and isolation would do her good.”

  “But—” Sarah started to protest.

  “Hush,” Conrad said, “stay a while. I’ll deal with Williams. You do as the Doc says and rest a bit. I’ll be right back.” He kissed her, smiled at Dr. Lawrence, and left the room.

  “Okay, Sarah,” he said, “lean back, take a few deep breaths and try your best to relax. I’ll be back in an hour, and we can chat about this episode. I’m very interested in how it happened, and really curious to learn all about this Alexander fellow.”

  “I’m not tired, and I don’t care to rest. We need to go after Daniel. There’s no time to waste. He’s in danger.”

  “I understand your anxiety, but let’s give Billy a bit of time to process this information. Besides, what could you do now? Where would you go?”

  Sarah considered this for a few seconds, then eased back onto the bed, and nodded. “You’re right. I can’t even guess where to go.”

  “If you lie quietly here for a while, maybe something more will come to you.”

  Resigned, Sarah sighed. “I’ll do as you say. But please don’t keep me here too long.”

  “Get some rest,” he said with a smile.

  Sarah closed her eyes until Dr. Lawrence stepped out of the room. A second later she opened her eyes and sat up on the bed and stared straight ahead. “Okay, Alexander, where is he?”

  The room grew unnaturally dark.

  Alexander stood before her at the foot of the bed. He appeared much older, in his seventies, exactly as he’d looked the day Sarah saw him die. “Not even now, after what Danny’s gone through, does he remember.” His voice sounded tired and rough.

  She gasped. “Alexander.”

  “You felt the horror?”

  S
he nodded. “But why put me through that? Why not just tell me?”

  “Writers don’t tell, we show.”

  “To hell with your games! You shouldn’t have done that to me!”

  “Not games. That’s who I am.”

  “But why not show me instead of having me go through all that? I was terrified.”

  “Like I said, that’s all I could do.”

  “Okay, then, where is he? Can you at least tell me that?”

  “I’m not sure what will happen next. Like this conversation—all of a sudden I’m here, talking to you. I have no idea why or how it happens any more than you do.”

  “Maybe it’s because you have something important to tell me?” Alexander considered her question. “I need you to understand why he refuses to connect with his past, and why he hates me.”

  “I understand perfectly,” she answered in a soft voice. “You should’ve realized you were forcing him to grow up too quickly and make decisions he wasn’t ready for.”

  Alexander gazed upon her with deep sadness. “I should have, but I didn’t.” “Why haven’t you come before?”

  “Because you needed to experience the whole story. Now we’re near the final scene and I have nothing to show you. I never finished the story. I didn’t finish the book or the screenplay.”

  “You wrote a book as well?”

  “I did, it’s in the house. But it lacks the finale. The book ends in the same place, after his father’s funeral, with Danny telling me how much he hates me.” “So what does that have to do with me?”

  “I need you to make sure it’s finished.”

  “Alexander, that’s crazy, I’m not the writer of this tale, and that’s not the point. He’s in danger and you need to—”

  “Danny is the writer.”

  “You’re asking Daniel to write the ending?”

  “I need him to finish the story. I want him to find relief.”

  “What makes you think he will?”

  “You’re going to help him.”

  Alexander stared at her. She could sense his plea, his sorrow, and his remorse.

  “He’s never forgiven you?”

  “No.”

  “Did you try to reach him when you were alive?”

  “Many times, but he wouldn’t have it. In the end I followed him and made sure no harm ever came to him.”