Soul Inheritance

by Honey A. Hutson

  Katherine turned to face him from where she was leaning against the car. Standing only a foot from him she stared up into that magnetic gaze.

  “You answer one for me first, Trooper Lancaster.”

  Lancaster watched those fascinating eyes with intense interest as the smoke inside them seemed to move like fog on a lake. He shifted, leaning on the car, realizing how attracted he was to this stranger, knowing he had to curb those feelings while he did his job.

  “Alright.”

  “Do you normally offer to have dinner in the line of duty?” the drawl of her voice was more pronounced even to her own ears.

  “Well, it’s a bit unusual, but I’m hungry and ya’re hungry. Why not kill two birds with one stone?”

  “Well then. I can’t argue with that. What’s your question?” She studied his badge with a grin.

  Suddenly he became serious. The cool and collected officer that was his usual persona on the job.

  “I need ta know why Nigel’s your ex.”

  Now it was Katherine’s turn to come back down.

  “Well,” she said, turning to open the car door, “he’s a leech.”

  She leaned in and got her wallet from the center console. When she re-emerged from the car she turned her attention back to Lancaster. One hand was now on his holster, the snap undone. With the other he reached out and grabbed her arm, pressed his body firmly against her, pinning her quickly and efficiently to the door.

  “Oh, easy.” She held the wallet in one hand and raised the other slowly to show it was empty. Smiling she tilted her head to one side and squinted. “Long day?”

  “Don’t ever do that! Cops get shot all the time by the most benign lookin’ folks.” He wasn’t angry, but firm. It was impossible to ignore how standing against him made her blood race and she could see the feeling was mutual in the flush of his face, his own hesitation to move away. The urge to stay this close was overwhelming, startling. He stepped back several feet, his face strong and stern, growing crimson from his collar to his hair.

  “I’m sorry, I just didn’t think. What happened tonight to put you so on edge?” Thoughts of what he said came, piqued her curiosity.

  “It’s important ya answer my questions as honestly as ya can, that’s all. I need answers.”

  “I’ll do my best. Let me pull the car up into a parking space and we’ll get something to eat.”

  “If ya don’t mind, I’ll move it while ya pay for gas.” Lancaster smiled warmly, hoping to convince her. She didn’t strike him as the kind to run off, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

  Katherine hesitated, then smiled back and presented the keys.

  “I’m not going to run Trooper Lancaster. I promise, I’ll answer whatever questions you’ve got to the best of my ability.” Without another word or even a second glance she turned and headed for the cashier.

  ‡

  The car was quiet. He glanced over at the floor full of empty drink bottles and cracker wrappers. The map in the front seat was folded up, her cell phone lay on top and a CD case beside it. The engine made almost no sound as he pulled forward into an empty space beside the unmarked cruiser. Resisting the urge to snoop he noted the back cargo area full of carefully organized luggage, the five day cooler with the sticker still on the top and the camping gear in the backseat still in it’s packaging.

  This woman was odd and intriguing at the same time. Just her voice had brought him all this way when he could’ve requested she come to the station. Now she was even more enticing in person. There was nothing extraordinary about her appearance, but there was certainly something about her.

  The booth closest to the cars was where he found her waiting. The menu was typical fare for truck stops. Burgers, fries, various other sandwiches and sweets. As he sat down she put the menu aside.

  ‡

  Leaning her head on her hand Katherine studied him. The attraction was unmistakable. The feeling of his body against her had been surprisingly sensual. She wanted to touch him, to feel those muscles more thoroughly. It was like nothing she’d ever known, yet it was disturbingly familiar.

  The waitress came to the table before Lancaster had a chance to say anything. He ordered a water and a sandwich and Katherine followed suit.

  “So. Tell me bout Nigel Cain,” he said, lacing his fingers together.

  “He was a controlling, manipulative son-of-bitch, not to put too fine a point on it. At first he was the perfect gentleman, then little by little he took control. Then he began to spend money. My money, of course, not his own. I finally decided to get on with my life and moved out.”

  “But he didn’t take well ta that?”

  “Not once he started missing the money. Then…” she choose her words carefully, “then he found out I’d inherited property on a lake here in Maine. I think he thinks there’s a family fortune he’s going to miss out on sucking up.”

  The map in Nigel’s car came to mind. It wasn’t Nigel who was the long lost heir of McKlannen Lake. He did his best to hide his surprise.

  “I see.”

  Carefully assessing the woman in front of him Lancaster decided not to concentrate on her destination. That discussion could be delayed. He didn’t have to think about who she might be yet, could concentrate on being here with her right now.

  “Did he ever get physically demandin’ with ya?”

  The waitress returned with their meals, giving her time to mull over the question. They both thanked her and waited until she left to continue the conversation.

  “You mean did he abuse me?” Studying him, she picked at the edge of the sandwich. “There was the occasional shoving or he would try to man handle me. Thinly veiled threats, but he was more into manipulation. Mental and psychological abuse. The kind of stuff guys like that use to keep you under their thumb.” That night on the balcony flashed through her mind.

  Lancaster picked up the sandwich, held it in both hands. “He followed ya, found everythin’ he needed to find ya. Apparently called repeatedly,” he smiled; showing nice, white, even teeth. “That kinda fits the category of stalking. Do ya think he got frustrated and would’ve become violent?” He took a bite of the sandwich; put it back on the plate, waited for a reply.

  “It would’ve freaked me out to open the door and find him standing there all the way out here. Especially if there was no one around.”

  “So that’s a yes?”

  “I’ve seen him get pretty wired. He has a temper.” She took a long moment to think whether she should tell him. “I’ve seen the potential in him.”

  “How long were th’ two a’ ya together?”

  “Three years. It was convenient I guess. That’s really the only way I know to explain it lasting that long.”

  Lancaster’s face wrinkled up. “How’s that convenient for you?”

  “He wasn’t a leech at first. Only the last year and a half, once he got comfortable. I guess I thought it was better than being alone.”

  Understanding softened his face. “I don’t see how somebody like you could ever be alone, or not have her choice of men.”

  Locking eyes with him Katherine took a drink of water. “I’ve never really found anyone that I felt strongly for, or anyone who even had the potential. It was like there was someone out there; waiting, but I couldn’t find him. I got tired of waiting.”

  The intensity of her eyes burned right into his foundations, setting his heart and mind ablaze. Leaning forward he returned the stare.

  “Maybe ya just weren’t lookin in the right place.” His eyes sparkled mischievously.

  “Maybe,” she returned, looking away.

  A steady and easy silence fell between them as they both realized their attraction was reciprocated.

  “Why all these questions about a relationship with someone who’s gone from my life?” Katherine asked, finally break
ing the silence.

  “Well,” Lancaster cleared his throat. “He ain’t exactly gone. He followed ya he’re and now he’s layin’ in a hospital shredded by somethin’ as yet unidentified.”

  Katherine sat back in the booth, gazed out the large plate glass window intently. Hesitated, then asked, “What happened?”

  “He was out on 159. He hit somethin’ with his rental c’ar. Apparently somethin’ with big damned teeth. He got out ta check and was mauled. He’s at Shin Pond Medical Center. That’s the closest location out he’re for a bad accident.”

  “If it was an animal why’re we sitting here discussing it?”

  “Well, it’s not what happened ta’night that’s of interest, so much. Though that’s curious and as yet unexplained. Nigel’s wanted as a person of interest in two murders in Bangor.”

  Katherine was stunned.

  “Who?”

  “Pa’don?”

  “Trooper Lancaster, who’d he murder?” She relaxed against the table, felt that strange strength that usually came with Miranda’s presence wash over her, offering support.

  “Please, it’s Jim,” he smiled deeply, then grew serious again. “Two young women. They were left… well, in quite a mess. Do ya think he’d be capable of that?”

  Katherine shook her head, “I don’t know. What makes them think it was Nigel?”

  “He was with both of th victims before they were found dead. One at her house and th other in his hotel suite.”

  “Now that sounds like Nigel. The women part, I mean.” She looked down at her plate, no longer hungry, pushed it aside. “I don’t know about the rest. You never like to think someone you know’s capable of that. You never really know who is.”

  “In my line a work I see and hear bout this stuff a lot. It’s not so bad round he’re, but I’ve worked in bigger places, Bangor ‘mong them. You’d be amazed. We’re not sure what happened, but it don’t look good for him. Do ya want me to take ya out to the medical center?” Jim held his breath as he waited for a reply. After a long pause she shook her head.

  “No. I need to get on with it. I’m going on to Shin Pond.”

  “It’s gettin' late, you’re tired. Why don’t ya stay in a motel here tonight and go in the mornin’?”

  A playful smile danced across her features, the southern drawl deepening. “Why Officer. If I didn’t know better I’d think you’re concerned for me.”

  “Well, it’s my job, after all. To protect and serve and all that. Maybe even check back up on ya in the mornin’?” The red flush of his face gave away how nervous he was under that cool, flirty demeanor.

  Katherine reached across the table and untangled her keys from his, picked up her wallet. “That’d be nice. I’d like that. You working the night shift?”

  “Well, late shift anyhow. I’m headed for a vacation after ta’night. Thought I might get some fishin’ in. Noticed your campin’ equipment. No fishin’ rods though.”

  Studying him she hesitated, “Not much for fishing. Prefer mammals to cold slimy critters. Tough I’m always up for learning new things.”

  “Well, then. I might just have to teach ya the intricate pleasures of fishin. Who knows ya might even hook somethin’ before ya go.”

  “I sure hope so.” She gave him a long, lustful glance. It caught her off guard and she turned toward the cashier so Jim wouldn’t see the surprise at her own flirtations. He stepped past her and paid, then walked her out, reassuring he would see her in the morning.

  Chapter twelve

  The night seemed to drag on forever. When the shift finally ended at 2 A.M. Jim went home, gathered up the camping gear, an extra fishing pole and filled the cooler. He hadn’t felt this way since he’d been a teenager trying to get Sharon Dell to go out with him. This was not just pleasure though. To actually solve the mystery of what had happened at McKlannen Lake, to meet one of the actual family and see the place up close and personal was worth the time. It didn’t hurt that the family member happened to be both beautiful and available.

  Packing all the gear into the back of his beat-up forestry green truck he thought of Katherine McKalister. The assumption that Nigel was the long lost heir was now proven wrong. He had to take into account the family reputation before their disappearance some fifty years ago.

  For as long as anyone could remember they were a power in the area. They had an uncanny business sense. An unnatural sort of luck and wealth and their enemies had a tendency to die bizarre deaths.

  The McKlannen family had come over on a ship when the country was still considered the new world. They’d built the town from the ground up. Until the nineteen thirties they’d still owned at least half of it. By the time of the fire most of it’d been sold off. The family fenced the lake and the surrounding area after the last surviving couple built a modest two story house in town. All that was left of the businesses was a general store.

  The night of the fire, when the new house had burned to the ground, Michael McKlannen tried to leave carrying a scorched box swearing he’d never return. He ranted and raved against unseen entities, cursing them, vowing he wouldn’t carry on their reign. After a short stint in the state mental ward he and the box disappeared and no one had been able to find him. Every year, like clockwork the taxes were paid from somewhere outside the country and the land remained in the McKlannen family as far as anyone knew. No one had ever come to claim it, until now.

  Michael McKlannen had a twin sister, Melissa McKlannen who followed him to the institution, but still resided there, bouncing between a padded room and some semblance of sanity. Jim had been to see her once or twice, but nothing she said made much sense. Just random ramblings about shadows, how she could smell lake water flowing through the windows at night, hear the wolves baying in the distance.

  That was where the trail ended for Jim, until now. He drove to the motel, parked in front of Katherine’s room, where her Jeep was parked, and settled down in the seat, setting his wrist watch to wake him in a few hours.

  ‡

  Katherine settled into a room and fell asleep thinking of Jim Lancaster instead of the tangle of family inheritance yet to be figured out. The other lives she’d absorbed offered little information. They mostly provided general confidence and strength, survival instincts of a sort. Miranda, however, fed her information almost constantly, in such a way that she often didn’t realize she knew the things she did until it came up in the course of things.

  After hours of peaceful darkness she woke on the shores, the water lapping gently just a few feet away. Immediately she got to her feet, assessed her surroundings. Miranda’s confidence began to warm her veins against the cooling fall air. That strange sensation she’d felt before tingled in her spine and up her neck. There was a different feeling in the air. The lake was dark and brooding, she wasn’t in the past like when Miranda’s memories had been filling the dream. This was present, but the need to be afraid wasn’t there.

  Intimidation hung heavy in the air, there was a sensation that the creatures there felt threatened. With a strange sort of pleasure she realized that the intimidation was coming from her, from the power that tingled and stirred like Old Faithful waiting to be released. They sensed it, craved it, coveted it, but most of all they feared it.

  Katherine walked with confidence toward the house, felt the power around her resisting, trying to slow her down as before. It didn’t work; she walked through it as if it were merely an annoyance. The house loomed overhead as she stopped to look up, let the part of her that was Miranda admire the place she’d once called home. The boards of the porch creaked underfoot. The rail was smooth and still in her hand, the door knob cool to the touch. She pushed against the door.

  Nothing happened. It was sealed shut by the years of neglect. She walked around the porch to the window, peeked in. The dust formed a thick film on the glass. From what she could make out there was still
furniture in what looked like a parlor with a fireplace. Making her way around the porch she went to the side of the house, at the end was a broken window, allowing her a view of what’d once been a dining room. A long table lined with chairs sat in the middle. A long, tall hutch was in one corner, and a simple, old fashioned chandelier that looked as though it still took candles hung from the ceiling, all covered with an inch of dust. Dead leaves littered the floor, probably blown in through the broken panes of glass. There was still a broom sitting in one corner.

  Going around to the back she found another door, this time the hinges creaked and allowed entry. Against one wall of the kitchen stood a huge old cook stove, its once white ceramic surface now yellowed with age. Pots sat in their proper place on the cook top, as if waiting for someone to return. A sink and counters with a few very old dishes scattered around them ran along the wall and a large butcher block table, knives still in place sat in the center. As with the dining room everything was covered with a thick layer of dust, webs full of bugs hung in the corners. Dead flies and beetles littered the window sills.

  Katherine entered cautiously. Miranda’s memories of cooking in this kitchen flashed before her, the children running toward the dining room as they played. The sound of their laughter hung on the air after the vision had gone. Slowly, she followed their sounds toward the dining room. She found herself looking for the memory of what had happened to them, but was denied. The sounds of sweeping skirts and button up boots as they clicked on the wooden floor came as if they were there in the room with her. The scent of summer, flowers spread about in vases, bread cooking filled the air.

  As she stepped through the door instead of dust covered furniture the room gleamed. The wooden floors shined with sunlight glinting through clean windows. The walls were a pleasant soft blue instead of the pasty grey of peeling skin. Candles filled the chandelier, not one speck of dirt to be found on anything.