Shadows Fall

by Denise A. Agnew

  Melissa’s eyes burned with sudden tears. She hated telling him this, hated that she knew it as well as she knew her own name. She hated that the look he gave her right now cut her to the quick.

  “How do you ...” He swallowed hard. “How do you know all this?”

  “When I was five I knew my mother’s best friend was going to die. I told my mother and she freaked out. She said I was never to say anything like that to anyone. That I was lying. Later that day her friend was killed in a car accident. Mom told me we’d never talk about it again. I don’t know how to explain how I know. I just do.”

  His eyes flashed, and she saw raw pain and continued disbelief in his eyes. “Where is she? If you know so much, where is she?”

  Melissa’s throat ached, raw with the desire to cry. “She’s east of the graveyard. She went out there one night with a flashlight. The darkness took over her mind that final day. It told her to walk east. Just like you did.”

  Roarke swallowed hard, the gulp audible. “I don’t believe this.”

  Melissa saw deep regret, pain and perhaps anger etched into his features. She was afraid to reach out to touch him, as if he might break like glass. She knew better, of course, but she couldn’t help the feeling. “Roarke ....” She didn’t know what to say. What could be said?

  He turned to her, breaking from his trance. His quiet concerned her. Then again, how would she react to such devastating news? She couldn’t expect to know how he felt, or to absorb the essence of what this loss meant.

  “I need to think about this.” His expression turned devoid of expression, as cold as a stranger. “I’m going upstairs to think.” And he turned away and left her standing there.

  * * *

  Roarke stood in the condo at the dining room window and gazed out on the recreation center and beyond. It was the beyond he cared about the most. After he’d fallen asleep last night, which was no mean feat, he’d dreamed. Nightmares—disjointed, scattered, bizarre nightmares that offered terror, but no solutions to his mother’s whereabouts. Now that he considered that she might have she’d taken her own life ... well, it didn’t solve the why or the where, or any other questions running around in his mind. He supposed he should have comfort in some knowing. He didn’t. And no, he wasn’t one hundred percent sure his mother had taken her own life, or that she was out there in the woods.

  When Melissa had slammed him with the information, he’d wanted to rage against it, to tell her that she was a fake and a liar. He knew better, of course, but the shock of it had sent him into a deep thought. He’d gone to the condo without her, poured a tall whisky, and went to bed with his iPod. It hadn’t helped. He heard her come into the apartment, but she went into the guest bedroom and slept there. They hadn’t spoken again last night.

  This morning, after little sleep, he half regretted his reaction to her and to the information. At the same time, how could he give up on every logical understanding of the world he possessed? When he got up late, he realized that she’d left the condo already. She’d left a note saying that she needed time to think, but she’d be back shortly. A couple hours had gone by and she hadn’t returned. A niggling of worry started inside him, and he almost sent her a text or tried to call her. Instead, he held back and continued to ponder his experience of hearing his mother’s voice and Melissa’s revelations. How far could he trust the information?

  Today they might find answers. All his life he’d required concrete evidence and science to back up everything. He wanted additional proof and understanding. He’d never stop needing confirmation for the strange things he’d heard and saw, not even if he saw and heard weird shit for the rest of his life.

  The door opened and Melissa walked inside. Her beautiful face was caught between a half-smile and apprehension. He couldn’t blame her. He’d been pretty damned cold last night.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey,” was her soft answer. “I’m afraid to come in.”

  “What? Why?”

  “That scowl on your face is about twenty feet wide. Are you still angry?”

  He raked one hand through his hair. “Hell, no. I wasn’t mad last night.”

  She smiled and walked toward him, weariness still in her eyes. “Yeah, you were.”

  He sighed. “Okay. I was angry. I’m less so now.” His gaze swept over her. She wore a heavy parka, knit cap, and boots. “Where did you go?”

  “I was walking in the graveyard, trying to see if the same thing would happen to me that happened to you. To see if I’d want to walk to the east. It did. But I managed to stop myself before I went too far.”

  He sipped his cold coffee and with a grimace went to the sink and rinsed the cup. “You’re still convinced you know what happened to my mother?”

  Her eyes sparked, showing an inkling of pure determination and bravery. “At this point I think it’s as good a lead as you’ve ever had.” She met him at the sink and placed one hand on his chest. She smoothed her touch down his chest in a caress. “Do you trust me? If you don’t ...” Melissa shook her head. “Then after this investigation is over I don’t know if I can ...” She didn’t finish.

  “If you can what?”

  She met his gaze. “I can’t be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t trust me.” When he started to speak, she put one finger against his lips. “No. Don’t say a thing until this all over. If I’m wrong about your mother I’ll be ashamed enough as it is.”

  He liked her directness and upfront attitude. To think, when he’d first met Melissa, he’d judged her instantly as someone who believed in everything related to the paranormal. She’d proven that wasn’t so, even if her pronouncement about his mother troubled him.

  “All right. Let’s get this show on the road.” He headed toward his room to get his outerwear, but stopped halfway down the hall and returned. “How do you get your visions? Or are they visions?”

  “They’re flashes. Not always pictures. Sometimes I just know ... there isn’t a clear cut way to explain it. If I understood my sensitivity enough for that, I’d have bottled and sold it by now.”

  He nodded, his curiosity temporary quenched.

  As they went outside toward the recreation center and Melissa took a right hook to skirt around it, Roarke pressed her. “Other than this time and when you were a child, have you ever known stuff like this before?”

  “Actually I have. Not about dead people, but about other things. I’ve never told anyone about it other than Henrietta. She’s the only one in town I can trust with it.”

  As they walked toward graveyard, she pulled the hood up on her parka and rubbed her gloved hands together. She walked around the graveyard rather than through it and he followed. Trust me. Yeah, he could trust her. Going with a bit of his own gut feelings, he felt good that she might lead him to the truth once and for all. Roarke’s mind was reeling. Too many things had happened in a short time. As a Marine he’d learned to roll with the punches and react to spur of the moment conditions. He’d taken many punches in the last year. I’m not a fuckin’ pussy. I can take this. Now that he’d kicked his own ass, the rest should prove easier.

  Melissa walked alongside him now, and he didn’t think he could face this situation as well without her. In a short time she’d become a huge part of his world. She was a sexy, breathtaking, amazing woman. He wouldn’t forget the way she’d made him feel. If she walked out of his life tomorrow, he’d mourn that loss of the connection he’d made. He didn’t want her to leave here—to leave him. He tore his thoughts away from missing her before she’d even left.

  As they walked deeper into the woods, the atmosphere changed. High clouds filled the sky. It was around forty degrees—a very tolerable temperature for a short trek. Yet he felt another energy surrounding them, the same energy he’d felt on his last trip to the graveyard. Something indefinable lived here.

  “What am I feeling?” he asked to no one in particular. “What’s in this forest?”

  “The same thing that’s in
Tranquil View,” Melissa said. “Evil. Somehow it’s come out here. It’s spreading.”

  “How do we stop it?” he asked.

  She made a sound like a half laugh. “We don’t.”

  He didn’t want to hear that. Impatience fought with certain knowledge that they couldn’t make this entire process faster. Roarke wanted answers. He wanted the clear, cut and dried explanation for all the bizarre shit happening.

  They walked and walked, most of the time without a word. He figured they’d gone at least a mile before a dilapidated shack came into view. Roarke wondered what a lonely structure like this had served as in the past. Though he couldn’t say for certain how old it was, he guessed at least a hundred years. He scanned the building and surrounding area. Not a speck of paint graced the wood. The door hung by one hinge with enough room to crawl through. Not a big place, but once it might have looked nice.

  “What the hell?” Roarke said.

  Melissa put one hand to her mouth, her eyes widening. “She’s ... she’s in there.”

  “Fuck me,” Roarke muttered under his breath.

  Melissa placed one hand on his back. “Slowly, Roarke.”

  The closer they got to the ramshackle structure, the faster his heart beat. What would he find? He didn’t feel peace here, if peace had ever actually lived within those walls. Darkness slinked and slid and colored everything. Here he couldn’t be certain what was real and what wasn’t. He ached with a deep hurt as he approached the cabin. Wind swirled at the tree tops like his mother’s whisper last night.

  He’d brought a weapon—a Glock. He didn’t believe he’d need it, but he felt the weight of it beneath his coat and it gave him a perverse comfort. As if he could fight an enemy he couldn’t see or understand. He approached as a miasma surrounded him. Maybe this had happened to his mother. Maybe she’d felt this overwhelming sickness as it called across the forest and pulled her toward her doom.

  “Roarke.”

  He jumped in surprise until he realized it was Melissa’s voice he’d heard. He glanced at her, but she stood near what was left of a front window. She stared through debris, between logs fallen down long before.

  She swung her haunted gaze in his direction. “I’ve found her.”

  Roarke’s throat tightened, but he moved forward and looked between the logs. Yes, there. Roarke had cried too much in the last few days, and he’d never been that kind of man. Now, though, he couldn’t find enough in him to cry at all.

  His mother sat in a chair, her head back. From the state of her body, she’d been here for a while. A prescription bottle lay on the floor by one withered, decaying hand. He recognized the coat, hat, and even her blond hair. He pressed one hand to his stomach, unable to stop the nausea that flew up and threatened to overwhelm. He jerked away, unable to withstand the proof that his mother had taken her own life. He staggered toward the trees to the south, wanting a moment alone. He fell on his knees and lost his breakfast.

  Chapter 25

  Nightfall crept over the mountains and reduced the light coming into Roarke’s condo. The day had started with heartbreak when they’d found Roarke’s mother, and the rest of the day had been as difficult.

  Roarke’s arms slipped around Melissa’s waist as she stood at the kitchen counter and layered a roast beef sandwich with condiments. His arms felt so wonderful around her, but she knew he burned with grief. Both of them felt half starved because they hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so she made sure to top their sandwiches with extra meat, lettuce, and tomato. The bag of chips nearby looked damned good too. She felt wrung out and strung up to dry, but his powerful arms gave comfort.

  And she’d needed the comfort. They’d worked with the sheriff’s department and the coroner as Roarke’s mother’s body was transported into Simple. Roarke had managed a call to his father in Las Vegas. The man seemed broken up over his ex-wife’s demise, and promised to be on the next plane back to Colorado. Roarke hadn’t commented on his father’s decision. Melissa suspected it would take a significant soul searching for them to find common ground and affection.

  Melissa’s cell phone rang. She abandoned the sandwiches and he took over. She opened her handbag where it rested on the couch and rummaged around until she found the phone. Henrietta was on the line.

  “Girl, I’m glad I caught you,” Henrietta said.

  “What’s up?”

  “How is Roarke doing?”

  Melissa had called Henrietta after they found his mother’s body, so she knew the details. “He’s all right.”

  “Good. Give him a hug for me, will you?”

  “Of course. How are things on your end of the universe?”

  “Weirdness. Apparently Jana has spread panic among people in town. Most of them stayed home from work today and the town is like, well ... a ghost town. Stupid stuff, let me tell you. Plus, I knew you’d want this news and I didn’t know if the sheriff’s department would call you. They’ve got their hands full with people swearing their houses are haunted or they have intruders breaking in. You name it, the craziness has escaped the asylum.”

  “You’re kidding me.”

  “Wish I was girlfriend. And there’s more.”

  “Okay, the suspense is killing me.”

  “They found that van that ran over Jilly’s boyfriend.”

  Surprise left Melissa quiet for a second before she said, “Wait a minute. Roarke’s going to want to hear this. Let me put you on speaker.”

  She turned on the speaker and placed the phone on the breakfast counter. Roarke paused in the sandwich making. “Here’s the deal,” Henrietta said. “They found the van in the parking lot of your apartment building.”

  “Shit,” Roarke said, his gaze meeting Melissa’s.

  Henrietta made a laugh that lacked humor. “That’s what I said. Anyway, they discovered it was registered to a Ivan Lakes.”

  Melissa gasped. “Lakes? Any relation to Ida Lakes?”

  “Yep. Little old Ida Lakes. She doesn’t own the van, but her forty-year-old son does. He’s apparently been living in her apartment the last month. Moved back in with mama because his life is in the toilet. At least that’s what Ida says anyway. She didn’t even know he had the van. I guess he thought it was safe to come back into town with the van last night and that’s when a cop doing rounds saw it in the parking lot and checked it out.”

  “Holy crap.” Melissa shook her head.

  “They have this Ivan in custody?” Roarke asked.

  “No. They can’t find him.”

  A chill ran up Melissa’s spine. “I can’t believe this.”

  Henrietta snorted. “Neither can we. Maybe there’s a good reason you felt creeped out at your apartment the last time you were there. Anyway, I don’t think you should go back there until they find this guy.”

  Melissa’s gaze clashed with Roarke’s again.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to her,” Roarke said.

  “I know you won’t.” Henrietta’s voice was warm.

  “That’s not the end of it,” Henrietta said. “Jilly got a call out to me and said her parents aren’t letting her leave the house. Their church says evil is upon us and they’re almost certain something terrible will happen today in town. Crazy damned people. Most of them have also heard that Roarke found his mother’s body up at that old hunting cabin.”

  Melissa had a nasty feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Great.”

  “I don’t like that damned church, but there’s something not right about today. Bradley and I went to the grocery store because a blizzard is supposed to come in later tonight,” Henrietta said.

  “Maybe you should stay away from the investigation. Stay home where it’s warm and cozy,” Melissa said.

  “Are you kidding? We wouldn’t miss tonight for the world.”

  After a promise they’d meet tonight at the investigation, Melissa hung up. Roarke drew her into his arms for a hug.

  She burrowed into his embrace, arms around his waist
and head on his shoulder. “Forgive me, Roarke.”

  “For what?”

  “I’m sorry you had to find your mother that way, and I was the one who brought you that pain. I know you don’t believe in a lot of this psychic stuff, but there’s no way I could have kept that knowledge inside me. It wouldn’t have been right.”

  He tilted her chin up. “God, Melissa. I don’t blame you. You’ve given me some closure. It’ll take a while for me to get over this. But I will.”

  Relief centered inside her as he kissed her. Hot, deep and full of promise, his kiss said he wanted more than a simple peck and on to lunch. His cock pressed hard against her. When he drew back, she looked into his eyes and saw pure lust.

  “Now?” she asked softly.

  He managed a smile. “Food first. A man needs fuel to make love.”

  As he pressed an affectionate kiss to her neck, her body tingled. How the hell could she think about sex at a time like this? How could he? Maybe because death assured they appreciated life affirmation?

  “I can’t believe the sheriff’s department didn’t say something about finding Ivan Lake’s van,” Melissa said. “I mean, when they came up with the coroner to get your mother’s body ...”

  He nodded. “Doesn’t make a hell of a lot of sense considering we witnessed the crime. Maybe the sheriff’s department is as screwed up as the rest of this town.”

  His gaze held hers again, and she saw something in his eyes—a need to ask something. But he didn’t. They took their sandwiches to the dining table along with cans of diet cola. Roarke stayed quiet as she glanced at him across the table.

  “My parents wouldn’t believe a moment of this,” she said without thinking. “I don’t plan on telling them until this is all over.”

  Pain flickered in his eyes. “Now I’m left with the parent who doesn’t believe a minute of this.”

  Melissa paused with a chip halfway to her mouth. “God, Roarke, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything about my parents.”