by J. A. Dennam
Danny’s face reddened considerably. She leaned close to Mel’s ear as they also headed toward the kitchen. “I’m sorry you heard that. I really thought you’d be asleep.”
“Honey, if you were thinking of me at all,” Melanie drawled, “you weren’t doing it right.”
That brought a scowl to Derek’s face. All this talk about ‘doing it’ was stirring some mixed emotions he wasn’t all that comfortable with. It was proving tough to get used to, that his baby sister was married, let alone “doing it”. So much had changed since he left. Since he was taken.
Alone in the family room, he looked around. Below the mounted flat-screen TV was one of the Colonial home’s original fireplaces. Its ornamental brick facade captivated him with its gaping, eternal yawn. Dark. Empty. Soulless. Much like the person he’d become under IGP’s rule. At the time he’d really believed there was no hope. Allowed himself to embrace that part of him that loved the game. The hunt. And mostly the kill.
If Rena hadn’t inadvertently offered him a way out, the last weekend would have never happened. He’d still be an IGP enforcer, facing a dark future of terror and subterfuge. Perhaps that’s why he felt so beholden to her. Sure, because of Rena he’d been forced into that world. But, because of Rena, he’d come out of it with a whole new appreciation for what he’d lost, what he’d pined for… and what he’d finally taken back.
Suddenly the pain in his chest ebbed as a poignant sense of peace settled over him, stronger than ever. That very same moment, something caught his eye. In the fireplace, among the pile of ash, an ember glowed faintly then went dark once again. Derek squinted, even though he could clearly make out what lay in the grate.
Sure enough, the glow reappeared as another ember caught, this one releasing a spark that arced upward into the chimney.
Very weird.
Derek entered the spacious kitchen which boasted the earthy elements of stone and wood. That alone made it one of his favorite rooms in this big old house he’d come to know only recently, for the simple fact all Bennetts had been banned since the late eighteen hundreds. In the earlier years of the feud, that didn’t stop some of them from attempting to take it back; however, those unfortunate souls were usually never heard from again.
“Who the hell lit a fire earlier?” Derek asked from the doorway. “It was ninety degrees today.”
Austin turned from the counter with a fully loaded pastrami sandwich in his grasp. He swallowed his bite, said, “Only person I know lighting fires was Rena. Sandwich?”
Derek declined the offer with a perplexed frown as he leaned against the center island next to Mel. “No, I mean here. There are ashes burning in the fireplace.”
Danny appeared from the fridge with a chilled can of fruit cocktail. “You must have been seeing things.” The electric can opener whirred and she raised her voice over the noise. “We don’t use the fireplace after March.”
Melanie stifled her tired yawn when she caught him regarding her. “Well, don’t look at me.”
With fruit cocktail in hand, Danny wordlessly headed toward the family room. She flipped a switch, illuminating the cozy space with light from the overhead fan. “Yep,” she called out. “No burning ashes.”
Seconds later, Derek scowled down at the spotless fireplace. Not only was it swept out, a potted fern sat exactly where the embers had sparked and burned.
“Now, wait a minute.” Derek scratched his head, replaying what he’d seen in his memory. “Until I take that cure, I can still see pretty fucking good in the dark. There was a pile of ash yay-high beneath the grate.” He layered his hands four inches apart.
Melanie crouched down, flattened a hand over the brick beside the plant. “And you said it was still burning?”
Clearly the grate was stored somewhere else during the summer months because even that was nowhere to be seen. Derek shook his head in complete bafflement. “Only a small portion of it, like the end of a cigarette.”
“Huh. It’s still cold.” There was no ridicule in her tone and Melanie was clearly as perplexed as he. As if she’d seen it, too.
“Maybe you should take that cure now,” Austin suggested from behind.
Three heads turned to stare him down. He took another manly bite of sandwich and retreated back into the kitchen.
Derek turned to his sister. “What kind of fucked up house is this?”
“I don’t think it’s necessarily the house,” Melanie responded, looping her arm through his. As they walked back into the kitchen, she explained. “When we thought you were dead, things began to happen that made us believe your spirit was with us.”
It was something she’d mentioned before, but he’d quickly forgotten about it when things kicked into full swing. “You said you thought I’d saved you from beyond the grave?”
“Yes. When I was in the tree house that I didn’t know was rigged to fall down, I got a text from your phone. Then I thought you were above me in the lookout tower, and as soon as I got up there to investigate, the tree house literally disintegrated below me.” They slid into one of the benches at the breakfast nook and she took his hand. “I really believed it was you guiding me to safety.”
Danny leaned against the doorframe and forked another piece of fruit. “Interestingly enough, she couldn’t produce the so-called text because her phone had been thrown in the pond.”
Melanie glared. “Excuse me, I had been thrown in the pond.” She sent Derek a sideways look. “Needless to say, your sister didn’t believe me.”
“I did,” Austin piped in from his reclaimed place by the counter.
“That’s right,” Melanie said with an appreciative smile. “Because you had your own ‘experience’.”
Derek, who followed in rapt attention, looked between the two. “Which was?”
“His bottle of booze told him to come find me at the river,” Danny contributed with a smirk. “Never mind that he was drunk.”
Austin regarded his wife from across the kitchen with an emotion Derek couldn’t quite decipher. “I only assumed I was drunk because of that voice in my head. And Mac and I got to you just before you were attacked, remember?”
“And you thought that voice was me, too?” Derek asked, trying to keep up.
“Yes, he did,” Melanie answered. “He swore by it.”
Austin shrugged. “I just assumed you were looking out for your sister.”
“Well, I think we can agree it wasn’t him.” Danny crossed over to the sink and rinsed out her empty can. “But it was definitely someone—or something—who was looking out for us. All of us.”
“So, you believe us now?” Melanie asked Danny in tongue-in-cheek fashion.
Austin finished the last of his sandwich, dusted his hands over the sink. “She claims to have been compelled to the roller coaster tonight in much the same way.”
Danny groaned out a protest. “I would have never admitted that if you hadn’t….” her words trailed off as Austin raised an eyebrow in her direction. No one needed an interpreter to translate the sexual tension that just escalated between them. Derek groaned, grabbed his stomach. Beside him, Melanie’s face lit with a knowing smile.
“You were meant to be there with Rena tonight,” she said with a satisfied nod. “To prevent her from jumping, or to talk out your differences, who knows. Whatever the reason, this spirit is definitely looking out for all of us.”
Derek made a sound of disgust. “Didn’t seem that way when I was bleeding out on Sophie’s laboratory floor.”
“But you survived that,” Melanie argued beside him. “Then there was the bloody message in the church that morning, warning us that the ghosts had arrived. Then the lab door that wouldn’t open until Rena had finished off her mother.”
Derek blinked against the onslaught of information coming at him for the first time. It all sounded a little too fantastic, but he began to wonder if he wasn’t the only ghost around.
“I think it’s Rena’s dad,” Danny surmised as she settled down on the bench across fr
om them. “We just learned from Crystal he had already died by the time Derek disappeared from that hospital.”
“You think he was attempting to clean up her mess?” Melanie asked.
Danny nodded. “Something like that. Making sure her only murder victims were those who deserved it.”
But Derek wasn’t so confident they’d pegged the right spirit. “I don’t know. What does Cahill’s fireplace have anything to do with me and Rena’s dad?”
“She used to live here.” Melanie covered another yawn with a delicate hand. “Maybe he was just giving you a sign he’s still around.”
Danny stared out the tall bay windows as if an answer would materialize from the inky black night beyond them. “Or he was telling you to look for something near the fireplace,” she said with deliberate clarity. “Something she left here….” Her voice dropped off. They all looked at each other for a good long moment, then over at Austin.
The man’s broad shoulders sank downward. “No.”
At once, they scrambled out of the breakfast nook and headed back into the family room, leaving Austin and his assertions behind.
CHAPTER 26
Austin
Austin trailed behind them with a sinking heart. Now that his hunger had been sated—for his wife and for post-sex sustenance—all he wanted was to go to bed. “Come on, guys, there’s nothing in the…. For God’s sake.”
When he reached them they were already on their knees, checking every nook and cranny. Every brick. Every mortared seam.
“Wait a minute.” Derek rolled into a sitting position, rested on the hearth as he caught his breath. “There was a spark that flew upward into the chimney.”
Austin yawned, scratched his bare chest as he watched the lush fern get transferred to a different spot. Before he could protest, Danny was inside the firebox, giving the narrow passage above her head a thorough inspection. That woman was always first in, unmindful of the dangers she could be facing. On one hand, it scared him to death. On the other, it’s what brought her to his gates and into his life in the first place.
“There is nothing up here,” she said finally.
“Unless it’s higher,” Melanie suggested, shoving Danny out of the way. “Let me look.”
As both women crammed into the space, blackened with age and quite possibly housing a bat or two, Austin felt the need to restore order. The same tone he used with his salvage crew should do the trick. “As much as you’d love to, ladies, you aren’t tearing up the chimney in order to chase a theory.” After all, the house was on the national register of historic places.
Danny sighed, ducked as she exited the firebox. “Austin’s right. It’s like three in the morning and I obviously can’t even think straight.”
Austin helped her out with a huge sense of relief. The thought of curling up in bed, his wife held tightly to his chest, appealed more now than ever. If only he could hold her as tightly as he wanted, perhaps that feeling of dread—of imminent loss—would ease up some. But, of course, she’d suffocate under the pressure.
“We should all be falling over,” Melanie agreed, giving the blackened interior one more lingering look before she, too, crawled out. “We’ve had a rough few nights. If we need anything, it’s sleep, and here we are treasure hunting in the wee hours.”
This time, Derek waved away the offered hands and swayed to his feet on his own. “Remember,” he lamented in a wistful tone as he and Mel headed toward the stairs, “we were sleeping pretty fitfully before Ozzie and Harriet decided to raid the kitchen.”
Danny paused in the act of dusting off her robe. “You were on the floor!”
Derek threw up a careless wave. “Night, Peckerwood.”
She rolled her beautiful brown eyes, but Austin noticed the slight upturn of her lips as she watched her best friend and her brother ascend the stairs. He remembered much too clearly how Danny had cried at night, wishing Derek were alive so she could hear him utter that awful nickname just one more time.
Austin reached her side and moved a tangled wisp of sun-kissed hair from her face. God, she was incredible…. “Why don’t you go on up,” he suggested, his voice husky with emotion. “I’ll turn off the lights and head up shortly.”
The light dusting of freckles on her petite nose captivated him as always when she rose up to receive a quick kiss. “I guess that means you aren’t mad at me anymore?”
God help him. “You’re going to be the death of me one day, Bennett,” he murmured, lowering his lips to hers once again. But now he took his time. When she opened up for him, his tongue delved inside, intimately exploring her mouth in a long, lingering way that left no doubts as to who owned his heart. For better or for worse.
When they broke apart, her bare heels “thunked” to the floor. Eyes still closed, she whispered, “The way you do that… it always feels like the first time, Cahill.”
Their first time had been a bit more energetic. Back then, he was her boss, she his employee, and he’d draped her over his desk in a frantic bid to break every rule in the book. He chuckled and planted another quick kiss on her forehead. As she moved toward the stairs, she kept her fingers linked with his until distance no longer allowed it. “Hurry,” she said, a slight flush coloring her cheeks.
Would it always be this way between them? After almost two years of marriage, and a few interesting quarrels, their unlikely relationship still carried more strength than most. They said it wouldn’t last. That with the history between their families, it couldn’t last.
But if the Bennetts and Cahills had just taken their fight to the bedroom, perhaps the feud would have ended a long time ago.
After Danny disappeared up the stairs, Austin waited a few more moments. He located the remote control and turned off the TV. Then, he walked into the kitchen and turned off the overhead light. When he flipped the switch in the family room, all he could see by was the dim light from over the stove.
Another silent moment passed as he cocked an ear, listened for evidence that he was indeed alone. The familiar pops and crackles of an old house settling in the cooling night air reached his ears, but that was all.
Deeming it safe, he tiptoed to the fireplace and sank to his knees. The hearth was cool and rough beneath his weight as he reached deep inside, upward, past the damper and into the smoke chamber. With his fingertips, he found the small lever he sought and pulled it down.
Austin got back to his feet, checked over his shoulder one more time and confirmed he was still safe from prying eyes. On the mantel, he moved the antique-framed picture of his grandparents aside and pressed his fingertips against one of the exposed bricks. The thing sprang forward revealing the flat, eight-inch hidden compartment behind it. He reached in, removed the letter he’d stashed in there a few days ago and quickly restored everything back to it’s original state.
Upstairs, Austin entered the library and softly closed the door behind him. He felt his way to the lamp, switched it on. The paper in his hand was old, browned and chipped at the creases. He unfolded it and again skimmed the contents. And again, he entertained the thought of taking a flame to the corner and watching it burn. But his great-great grandfather’s handwriting flowed elegantly over the page in faded ink, making the note itself irreplaceable.
Looking upward, Austin spotted a row of black leather-bound books on the top shelf. He positioned a folding ladder beneath them, stepped up and chose one. The spine said “Chambers Encyclopedia, Volume VIII”. He opened it and tucked the letter between pages 642 and 643.
Moments later, Austin crossed the darkened hallway to his room. His shoulders felt a little lighter. Tension no longer hummed in his blood. The relief of knowing his secret was safe allowed him to slip into bed beside his sleeping wife with peace of mind.
Because now, the proof that Jenny Bennett had not only died there, but had suffered a most horrific death at the hands of Tucker Cahill, would remain undiscovered for many years to come.
CHAPTER 27
Back to Bus
iness
Ty turned off the pitted dirt road and found the small clearing exactly where he remembered it. No one would spot him here. The overgrowth had become so thick over the years, even vandals forgot this place existed. It was perfect for what Derek had in mind: a place to hide while he plotted out his next move.
Once he had everything, Ty got out and locked the car out of habit. His feet cut through tall grass as he made his way up a steep hill in the sultry afternoon air, the trek made laborious by the heavy pack flung over his shoulder. Orange sunlight, patterned by overhead trees, lit the way, but he could find it with his eyes closed.
Diane Brockmeyer, the well-endowed brunette in his Advanced Physics class, came to mind, her nasally voice carrying through the hills as she whined about bugs. It was the same song with every other female he’d brought here, but the prospect of getting them out of their clothes had been his main focus at that age. Always with the help of a well-laid plan.
As Ty topped the hill, he found himself in another clearing. Just ahead was the crumbling church, its peeling white facade partly hidden in thick green ivy. He crossed what used to be a dirt parking lot, wading his way through the thick carpet of pale-blue Chicory blooms and purple thistle.
As he approached, he inspected the outside of the structure, inhaled the mixed fragrance of sweet flora and pungent mold. A part of the steeple was now gone. The concrete steps were still in one piece, double doors intact, if not a little crooked. Hard to push through, but not barred.
Inside the vestibule, Ty propped the door open just in case he needed a quick exit. The pews had been removed and the bare floor was piled with ceiling matter and dried leaves. The place was just as mysterious and beautiful as he remembered; however, now that he was a grown, responsible adult, his conscience pricked with guilt over his sacrilegious endeavors. The excuse that the ruin was no longer a house of God failed to vindicate.
His first step startled a bevy of mourning doves from their slumber. Wings bursting with movement, they loudly rose from beneath a windowsill and escaped his intrusive presence through a tall broken window overhead. Crows squawked in the distance, topping off what had been a monumental scare.