The Oracle Series: Vols. 4, 5, & Grave Endowments

by Cynthia D. Witherspoon

  I blushed. I know I did. I could feel the heat rising my cheeks as I relented. I let Cyrus press me against him. I tilted my head to the side when he brushed a kiss across the side of my neck.

  "You enchant me, Little One, as no one ever has." My beloved wrapped his arm around my waist. "I don't understand the power you hold over me."

  "Is it my charming nature?" I let my head drop back with a smirk. "Or my smart mouth?"

  "You appear to be so fragile." He smiled. "A precious creature to be pampered and protected. And yet, nothing could stop you from running into battle. It is an endearing and frightening feeling to have."

  We were turning in slow circles and I was concentrating on not stepping on his foot. So I grew quiet. Cyrus released me, turned me in a circle in front of him then pulled me back against him.

  "You are the strongest person I know, Stick." I closed my eyes as he tightened his grip around me. "What on earth could you be afraid of?"

  "Losing you." He answered. "You have become my very soul, Eva. I would be nothing without you."

  Cyrus gave me another kiss when he came to a stop. When he released me, he placed his forehead against mine. We stayed that way for a long time before my keeper spoke again.

  "Bed?"

  I nodded though I was reluctant to leave him. "I need to get some sleep . Though I'm having second thoughts about that now."

  Cyrus chuckled, squeezed my hand, and let me go. "Come get me when you are ready. I'll lay down with you."

  I left him standing in the center of the living room. I wanted to relish the precious moment we had just shared but my mind kept returning to my worries.

  I don’t know why it bothered me so much that Apollo would tell the other Sibyls to give up their roles. I mean, it’s not like I hadn’t benefited from that arrangement. But as I turned on the water, I couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before he wasn’t satisfied with me. How long would I have before he threw me away?

  I scrubbed away the dirt and grime of the day while telling myself how stupid my thoughts were. Apollo himself had told me how useful Grave Messages was to him. I was bringing him followers from all over the globe. Temples were being built in his honor for the first time since his heyday.

  I had nothing to worry about. Did I?

  These were the thoughts circling around in my head when a low moan mixed with a chorus of whispers filled my bathroom. I froze beneath the water as the noise grew louder. I knew where it was coming from. The only mirror in my entire condo was located across the room from me. I turned off the water and waited. If there was a spirit strong enough to break through my barriers here, they would start talking sooner rather than later.

  “Evie, help us. Please.”

  I jerked up as the hairs rose on the back of my neck. The voice filtering through my mirror was the same one that filled my voicemail every morning whether I called her back or not. I didn’t bother to grab my towel as I threw open the shower door. I started repeating the same word over and over again when I realized the only thing this interaction could mean.

  The dead visited me through mirrors. Not the living.

  “No.” I fell to my knees before the small mirror and grabbed the sides of it. “No. No. No. You can’t....tell me you aren't...”

  Janet McRayne stared back at me with a look of utter terror. I was so focused on her face, I almost missed the jagged wound across her throat.

  “Mom.” I choked on the sudden tears streaming down my face. “Mom, what happened? Where is Daddy? Why...”

  She faded into a sea of black only to be replaced by my father. He glared at me with an anger I’d never experienced from him before.

  “You. You brought this hell upon us.”

  “Come back.” I whispered when he disappeared and the whispers began again. “Don’t go, Daddy. Wait. Don't...”

  I begged for them to return. I started screaming when they didn't.

  I slammed my fist through the glass just before the world went black.

  Chapter Seven

  “I don’t know what happened, sir.” Cyrus’ voice broke through my wretched dreams. “She was fine when she left me.”

  “You said you found her in the bathroom?” A stranger responded. I cracked open my eyes to see an older man leaning over me. He was dressed in a blur of black and gold. “You sure you didn’t have anything to do with her injury?”

  “Don’t be stupid. Cyrus wouldn’t hurt me.” I croaked. I swallowed down the knot in my throat and tried again. “Who are you?”

  “Lieutenant John Carver.”

  I opened my eyes all the way to see the older man was a police officer. The black I had seen was his uniform. The gold? His badge and frills of his rank. I sat up as I remembered my parents’ faces in the mirror.

  I buried my head in my hands when I remembered their words.

  “Miss McRayne.” The man spoke again. “Do you need medical attention?”

  I shook my head only to wince at the sharp pain that resulted in the movement. I knew the real reason why he was here. I removed my hands and looked around the room to see Cyrus, Joey, and a priest standing off to the side.

  “It’s true then.” I whispered to the officer. “They're dead.”

  He looked over at the priest then turned his attention back to me. “Who is dead?”

  “My parents.” I was surprised at how stable my voice sounded. “I saw them in the mirror before I blacked out.”

  “Eva.”

  Cyrus breathed my name. He moved past the officer to sit on the couch next to me. He took my hands and turned to the man still kneeling in front of me.

  “Is it true? Is that why you needed to see her?”

  “Yes.” The man nodded when he stood. “Miss McRayne, I am very sorry for your loss. They were found by neighbors a few hours ago.”

  A few hours ago. I felt my heart grow heavy as I stared at the wall behind him. Janet and Martin McRayne. Dead. My family gone in an instant.

  “How?” I barked at him. “How did this happen?”

  “I’m not sure that the details will help you.” The officer started. He stopped when the priest stepped forward.

  “Miss McRayne, I am Father Bennington. I am a chaplain employed…”

  “I don’t need you.” I snapped at the man. “I need to know what happened to them.”

  When no one responded, I tightened the belt around my bathrobe and stood. Someone had dressed me in it. Probably Cyrus. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered now except getting back to South Carolina. I had to see them for myself. I wouldn't believe it otherwise.

  I stormed out of the room to find my tablet. Within seconds, I had a flight booked to Charleston. I threw on my clothes and went back to the living room.

  “I’m leaving for Charleston tonight.”

  The officer and priest were talking softly to my keeper and Joey when I made my declaration. It was the officer who approached me with Cyrus close behind. I focused on Cyrus. He stepped around the man to interlock our fingers together. I gripped his hand so tight, I was sure my knuckles were turning white.

  “Miss. McRayne, we are going to want to speak with you when you return. There were…similarities…between their passing and the murders here.”

  Similarities. I took the business card he offered me without shaking, but my blood had turned to ice.

  “I found this on your doorstep as well.” The officer continued. “Do you know what it could mean?”

  He handed me a postcard with a picture of the old Unitarian Church graveyard on the front. Words in cursive cut across the top right corner. Greetings from Charleston. I flipped it over to see my address filled out. Four simple words were scrawled across the back.

  Time to play, Sibyl.

  I resisted the urge to crumple the damn thing up and throw it across the room. I recognized the writing. Just as I knew the one man insane enough to fly across the country in his attempt to destroy me. I racked my brain for the last words Elliot had spoken to me w
hen I had barged into his office a few days before.

  There is more than one way to put you out of commission.

  I handed the postcard back to the officer. “Keep this. You’ll need it more than I will.”

  "Do you know who sent this to you?" The officer tucked the card into his pocket. "If it was the killer, then we need to contact Charleston County immediately."

  "I have no idea." I lied. "I get crazy mail all the time from fans of the show. Could've been anyone."

  Could've been. But it wasn't. I clenched my free hand into a fist and began to count to five in the back of my mind. It was the only method proven to calm me down when I got upset.

  Yet, not even counting was going to help with this. I decided to focus on what I had to do. I had to get to Charleston. I had to prove to myself they were truly gone.

  The man nodded when I opened the door. They both tried to speak to me one more time, but I didn’t give them the chance. I closed the door in their faces and turned towards my companions.

  “Don’t talk to me. Don’t offer me anything. Go get ready to leave. We head to the airport in one hour.”

  ***

  Cyrus didn’t need to speak for me to know how worried he was. I could see the concern in his eyes. I noticed the harsh line of his mouth. Even Joey – happy, go-lucky Joey – looked like he could have punched a wall. Don’t get me wrong. I knew he wasn’t upset with me. Rather, my friend was upset for me. He kept glancing over Cyrus to check on me. I’m sure they were both waiting for the breakdown of tears that would do nothing to ease the turmoil in my heart. It was my keeper who broke the silence I had demanded back in California. But even he waited until we were flying over some unknown state before he spoke up.

  “Little One…”

  “Fine.” I had been counting the small blue diamonds that made up the pattern on the headrest in front of me for the fifteenth time. “I’m fine.”

  My beloved reached behind me, grazed his fingers against the knot beneath my hair then showed me his fingers. They were slick with blood.

  “That doesn’t appear to be fine to me. You hit your head pretty hard when you fell, Evie.”

  “It’ll heal.”

  I pulled out my phone and swiped my finger across the screen. I reached down, snagged my headphones, and stuck them in my ears. My actions were supposed to be a signal that I didn’t want to talk. Joey had other ideas now that Cyrus had broken the ice. He leaned over my beloved to grasp my arm.

  “Evie, look. I respect the wall you’ve put up. But dammit. Talk to us.”

  "What do you want me to say?" I jerked the earphones out. "Because right now? I'm too pissed off to think, Joey. Much less have an in depth discussion."

  "Ok." Joey breathed. "How about telling us what is going through your head right now. That's a start."

  I went silent as I hit the start screen on my phone. I didn't want to talk about my thoughts. I didn't want to talk about the turmoil rushing through my heart or the anger that was causing me to shake so hard, I was having a hard time finding the contact I was looking for in my phone. Finally, I started to mutter.

  "What?" Joey leaned in closer. "What did you say?"

  “It was Elliot.” I found the number I was looking for and began to type a message. “He killed them.”

  “How could you possibly know that?”

  “Because the bastard left me a message on the postcard. And the officer mentioned there were similarities with the murders in California.”

  I hit ‘send’ and tucked the phone back in my bag. “Are we done talking about this?”

  “No.” Joey shook his head. “You said you saw them in the mirror.”

  I turned my head so that I could look out the window. I tried to ignore him, but it was hard to do. Joey stared at me until it became obvious that I wasn't going to tell him about the horrible encounter that told me more than the police ever could. So he sighed, hung his head, then glanced at me through the curtain of dark curls that fell over his eyes.

  “What do we do now?”

  “What we have to.” I shrugged. “I need to see if they are really dead, Joey."

  "Eva, are you certain that is such a good idea?" Cyrus had been quiet during my little chat with Joey. Now, he was studying me with such concern that I felt my heart breaking. So I decided to ignore him too as I continued.

  "If it's true, then I need to talk to Daddy’s lawyer. Settle their estates. Work out the funeral arrangements. And eventually, I need to call Joseph to tell him what’s going on.”

  “I’ve already taken care of work.” Joey released my arm. “I called Connor, who said you do what you need to do. The show will still be there when you get back.”

  “Thanks, Joey.” I felt my phone buzz in my bag, so I bent down and lifted it up with a grim smile. Cyrus interlocked our hands together with a nod towards the device.

  “Who’s that?”

  “Nobody.” I swiped my thumb over the screen and read the messages passed between me and Elliot. My smile grew colder at his response.

  You will find that playing with me can be a very dangerous thing to do, Elliot..

  We will see, doll. We will see.

  ***

  We reached Charleston just before noon. I watched the black wrought iron fences go by in a blur as Cyrus maneuvered the rental car through the streets of my hometown. Thanks to the infamous August humidity, there were very few tourists milling down the sidewalks but plenty were ducking into the restaurants and bars that lined Market Street.

  I tried to remember how I used to love the beauty of this town. I tried to remember the stories my mom would tell me when we walked down these very streets. Or how proud I used to be to say I was from this place.

  I couldn’t do it. The beauty had been tainted – the memories soiled – when I saw the horror on my mother’s face the night before. I directed Cyrus to the hotel we were going to stay at. I took charge and signed us in. Ignored the looks of pity from those who passed us by. Carried my own bags. Unpacked them. Organized and counted every item of clothing I had managed to throw in my suitcase. Anything to keep my mind off the true reason for my return home.

  Finally, when we were settled in, I sat down beside the bay window overlooking the Battery and pulled out the business card the officer in Los Angeles had given me. His information was on the front, but scrawled on the back was the phone number for a detective with Charleston County. I dialed the number and held my breath until the man answered two rings later.

  “Holston.”

  “Detective Holston? Eva McRayne. I was given your number by,” I flipped the card over. “Lieutenant John Carver. He met with me last night in Los Angeles.”

  “Ms. McRayne. How soon can you return to Charleston?”

  “I am already in town. I left as soon as I heard.” I bit my lip and studied my lap. I felt stupid for my next statement, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Tell me it isn’t true. Tell me they are fine.”

  “I am sorry. I can’t do that.” The man on the other end of the line went quiet. “Where are you staying?”

  “The Carriage House.” I gripped the phone tight against my ear. "I need to see them, sir. I won't believe this has happened until I do."

  "Ms. McRayne..."

  "Don't. Don't tell me it's impossible. Don't try to protect me. I have to know if it’s true or not."

  "Ms. McRayne," He broke in. "It is impossible. The bodies were sent to MUSC last night. The autopsies are scheduled for later today. There is no need to identify them."

  Autopsy. I shuddered at the word. I pressed the phone against my ear until it hurt. "Please."

  "I am sorry. I do not know their last wishes, but they will be sent to the funeral home as soon as we have conducted our examination."

  Last wishes. Funeral home. Those words were worst than autopsy.

  Cyrus put his hand on my shoulder to steady me. I hadn’t even realized how hard I’d been shaking as I made this phone call. The detective promised to meet m
e at the hotel within thirty minutes. I disconnected the call and hit the search feature. I typed in another name and pressed the phone number that came up.

  I had to keep moving. I had to act. Otherwise, my own thoughts would destroy me.

  “Williams, Anthony and Percy.” A chipper woman announced when the call connected. “How may I direct your call?”

  “Steven Percy, please.” I cut my eyes over to Cyrus when he knelt down beside my chair and mouthed a single word to him. “Lawyer.”

  He nodded but stayed put when a man answered.

  “Steven Percy.”

  “Mr. Percy, its Eva McRayne. I am afraid I am going to be in need of your services.”

  “Eva.” His southern accent was as smooth as silk. “Dear child, I saw the article in the paper this morning. I’ve known your daddy for twenty years now. Never expected something like this to happen. I am so very sorry for your loss.”

  “Stop.” I gritted my teeth as my eyes began to burn. “Just stop. I need you to pull out the wills and figure out which funeral home the police should send their bodies to.”

  I could hear him typing and then papers rustling before he spoke again. “When will you be returning to Charleston? I will need to meet with you to go over the property as well.”

  "How long will it take you to get a hold of their wills?"

  "Two minutes. I am pulling up your father's now." The man went silent and I heard him typing. "It says here Thomas Brockman Mortuary."

  "Thank you." I repeated the name to myself in order to remember it. When I had it down, I realized the lawyer was still talking.

  "Ms. McRayne, if you are still in California..."

  “No, I'm back in Charleston. I’m staying at the Carriage House. I’ve got another…meeting…today but I should be free tomorrow morning.”

  “Nine o’clock then. Do you remember where my office is?”

  “I haven’t been gone so long that I don’t know my way around, Mr. Percy. I will see you in the morning.”

  I didn’t bother disconnecting the call this time. I dropped my phone onto the carpet under my feet then turned to my beloved Keeper.