Darkling

by R. B. Chesterton

  He frowned. “It’s a peculiar case. Those kids were here one minute, gone the next. If they meant to run away and start a life together, why in the world wouldn’t they let their families know? Margo was old enough to marry, there’s nothing the law can do. No reason they shouldn’t call home.”

  “Do you think she’s alive?” I thought of the blond girl I’d seen coming back from Crystal Mirror Lake. She’d been a perfect replica of Margo. Had it been her spirit, come back to Belle Fleur for … what? To haunt her family? To warn us? To let us know that she was gone? But why show herself to me? To Donald? Maybe because I was the only one willing to see her. Or maybe I was going crazy. None of this explained the other creature, the Donald-thing. But I had come up with another theory. What if this creature were some descendant of the Desmarais family? Chloe was the only legitimate heir. That didn’t mean there weren’t other children. The knots in my shoulders jumped back to life with a painful throb.

  “Hey, you okay?” Finch was staring at me. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

  “I’m worried.”

  “You’ll get ulcers and you won’t find that girl any quicker.”

  “There’s something not right at the Hendersons.” I watched him closely. He waited for me to continue, his sharp green eyes hiding his thoughts. “I see things. Someone.”

  His interest was acute. “Like who?”

  “Someone outside the house.”

  “Someone in the shadows?” He grinned.

  “Never mind.” I rose, but his hand caught the sleeve of my sweater.

  “What do you see, Mimi? Tell me.”

  My burden was so heavy. I wanted to share it with him. I really did, but he would think I was insane if I told him the real truth. “I thought I saw Margo the other day. In the woods. But it wasn’t her. It just upset me.”

  His eyes softened. “It isn’t uncommon to think you see someone you want to see badly. Cops do it all the time when they’re working missing children’s cases. If Margo were alive, she wouldn’t be camping out in the woods. She’d be inside, begging forgiveness and trying to get back on the gravy train.”

  “You think she’s dead, don’t you?”

  “It’s a lot easier to dispose of a body than keep a live girl hidden.” Finch rose also. “I’m telling you this because I don’t want to get your hopes up. Mrs. Henderson, she’s not ready to hear it, but I want to be straight with you. I think the girl’s dead. The boy, too. That business with the severed hand—that clinches it. I’ll check with some of my contacts in New Orleans just to explore all angles, but I don’t see much hope. The last time the girl was seen was in the Henderson house by her family. The boy left his house saying he was going to Mobile to meet a friend. They’d obviously planned to meet. What went wrong? Maybe I can find that out and at least bring a little closure to the family.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Finch, for your honesty.”

  “I’m a good investigator. I’m not happy with the way this is going. I’ll keep my ears open. If something turns up, I’ll jump on it.”

  “I’ll tell Berta you’re investigating possibilities in New Orleans.” She’d pinned her dreams on Jimmy Finch finding evidence that would lead to Margo’s recovery and until a body was found, there was no reason to destroy her dream. “Before you go, could you check one more thing?”

  He lifted his bushy eyebrows and waited.

  “I wonder who sold Belle Fleur to the Hendersons.”

  “Ask your grandmother. She should know that. From what I’ve learned of this community, your grandmother knows everything about everything.”

  “I will, but I don’t believe she knows. It’s some corporation or holding company or something like that. Could you find out?”

  “How will this help find Margo?”

  “I’m not certain it will, but there’s something about Belle Fleur. Maybe there’s a clue hidden somewhere.”

  He nodded and turned abruptly, his shoulders hunched slightly as he walked in the golden light to his car.

  “Mr. Finch, don’t give up. Not yet.”

  He kept walking and never looked back.

  I drove the station wagon to the sheriff’s precinct in Grand Bay. I intended to find Mark. It would be awkward. I’d avoided him for the past several weeks, and it was time to rectify that. Mark was a good guy. His desire to push our dating to the next level was normal—I was the one with hang-ups. Most girls my age had a couple of kids, but I was still a virgin. I didn’t even understand what I was saving it for. Mark was a great catch—handsome, fun, good sense of humor, and responsible. Any Coden girl would be lucky to snag him. I wanted him to know that. I also needed his help.

  Instead of the precinct, I found Mark at a burger joint. South Mobile County didn’t offer a lot of gourmet options. Billie’s Burgers was popular with the high school crowd. Not so long ago I’d been one of the teens sitting in a small booth with my friends. Mark sat alone. My hands holding the steering wheel were slick with perspiration. I’d missed him. More than I thought. The temptation to rush in the door and kiss him and tell him I was ready for a serious commitment fought with my duties to the Hendersons. Duty trumped desire.

  When I slipped into the booth opposite him, he didn’t bother to hide his surprise.

  “What’s going on, Mimi?” he asked. “I’m surprised to see you away from Belle Fleur and the Hendersons.”

  I dropped my gaze to his burger and fries. “I’m sorry, Mark. I’ve been a little … obsessive. I think I’ve accepted that I can’t change the fact Margo is gone. I have to let that go and move on with my life.”

  I thought for a moment he was going to be hard about it, but he smiled and pushed the plate of fries toward me. “We haven’t given up hope. We’re still looking.”

  “Really?” It came out skeptical, and I waited for him to get angry, but he didn’t.

  “Not like we were at first.” He sighed. “That hand. It just bothers me. The sheriff decided to let it drop. You know, it’s so macabre. It got all the news reporters stirred up and writing crap. We got calls from Atlanta and New Orleans. Reporters were interested in the ghoulishness, not the missing kids. But I check every week with—with the area hospitals and mortuaries.”

  “Tell me the truth. Do you think it was Andrew’s hand?” When he hesitated, I added. “I’m not going to break down or rush back and tell Berta anything.”

  He took a swallow of his sweet tea. “Andrew was selling weed for a supplier out of Gulfport. He had a couple of pounds and was supposed to make a delivery to Mobile. He never made it. We think he intended to sell the dope to make money for him and Margo to run away, but we don’t have any proof the girl was with him. Last people to see him was his family, and he was alone. Last person to see Margo was her family when she allegedly went up to her room. There’s nothing new in that, just a few details.”

  “Some drug dealer could have Margo. They probably cut off Andrew’s hand.”

  His smile was tired. “Not likely. Not over a couple of pounds of pot. There’s a chance Andrew got into trouble and he and Margo took off on the run. That’s what we’re hoping.”

  I took a deep breath. No matter how crazy I sounded, I had to tell him. “I’ve seen someone around the Henderson house. I’ve been thinking … is it possible some descendant of the Desmarais family could still be around Coden? Someone who might not want the Hendersons in the house?”

  He leaned forward, a teasing grin playing across his lips. “Who? The strange dark-haired girl? Folks always said Chloe Desmarais was a raven-haired beauty.”

  “Mark, you have to believe me and not think I’m losing my mind.”

  “Okay.” He wiped his hands on a napkin and pushed his unfinished food away. “You’re really afraid, aren’t you?”

  Even sitting in Billie’s in full daylight with people all around me, I couldn’t stop the cold claw of fear that traveled my spine. “I saw this girl. Not a brunette, a blonde. At first I thought it was Margo, but then she … chang
ed. It was like she morphed into Donald. Only Donald with sharpened teeth. An evil Donald—” I stopped. His face had gone blank.

  “Why are you doing this?” he asked. He wasn’t angry, he was puzzled.

  “I’m not doing anything. I know it sounds crazy. I know that, Mark. But I’m afraid. There’s something watching the Henderson house, and it wants in.”

  Mark leaned forward. “How long has it been since you’ve had a good night’s sleep? I’m going to talk to Cora and see if she can’t get you out of that house, at least on the weekends. This isn’t good for you, Mimi. You’re a young woman and you have the entire burden of that family on your back. No wonder you’re seeing things.”

  “I’m not crazy.”

  “I don’t think you are. I think you’re exhausted. Physically and emotionally, and if you won’t take care of yourself, then someone should step in and do it.”

  I pushed myself out of the booth. “I thought you might listen, but I was wrong.”

  “Mimi—”

  But I didn’t give him a chance to finish. I rushed out of Billie’s and ran to the car. In a matter of seconds I was on the road back to Belle Fleur. I’d tried. I’d honestly tried to get help. Now it was up to me.

  27

  The day of the scavenger hunt dawned clear and cold. Halloween, the night when dark spirits came out to play. It was a perfect opportunity to study the old religious beliefs that provided the genesis for our modern-day costume holiday. To my surprise, Annie joined Donald and me in the kitchen. Erin was there too. Berta allowed her to skip school since the party scheduled for that night was a late birthday celebration and we had food to prepare and scavenger clues to plant.

  In the five days that had passed since my attempt to enlist Mark to help me, I hadn’t seen anything strange, and I’d begun to believe that maybe he was right. Exhaustion often made a person’s mind play tricks. Maybe I’d seen sunlight on a shrub or some bizarre floater in my eye had tricked my tired mind into seeing something that wasn’t there. I was willing to believe that—wanted to believe it.

  We were gathered around the kitchen table, the white curtains, starched and ironed, fluttering in the open window. I stuffed treats and goodies into small bags that would be party favors. The mouth-watering smell of baking tollhouse cookies filled the air. More sheets of cookies, Annie’s special recipe, waited for the oven. Berta had driven into Mobile to pick up a huge birthday cake, a surprise for Erin, and left us to finish up the party details.

  Erin’s face glowed with excitement as she wrote out the many clues to the scavenger hunt that we’d come up with. All of her classmates had indicated they would attend the costume party, and she was basking in the warm glow of finding herself popular. “We’re going to start at the old hotel and finish there, under the moon. It’s going to be full tonight. And no rain. Daddy’s going to make a bonfire.”

  Anticipation had infected me as well as the children. “I can’t wait to see all the costumes.”

  “Halloween night, the time when the veil between this world and the spirit world is at the thinnest and a full moon.” Annie leaned toward Donald. “Beware, little boy, that the wicked ones don’t come to take you away.”

  “What wicked ones?” Donald cast a sidelong glance at me. Annie had spooked him again.

  “The ones that hide and watch.” Annie sounded scary enough that chill bumps danced along my arms. “They’re out there now, watching and waiting. You’d make a tasty snack for them.”

  “Stop it!” I’d had enough of her stories and foolishness. “If there’s someone outside watching us, you should tell Bob.”

  She slowly faced me. “Why don’t you tell him what you see, Annie?”

  I’d spoken of the strange blond apparition to no one except Mark. How had Annie—” Have you been talking to Mark?”

  “He calls here every day. Someone has to talk to him. He’s worried about you.”

  Mark’s betrayal stung more sharply than a slap.

  “See who?” Erin asked. “Mimi? Is there someone out there?” Real concern washed over her face. “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s just more of Annie’s foolishness.” I glared at Annie. “And it is going to stop.”

  “Oh, really?” She laughed. “I didn’t realize you had psychic abilities, Mimi.”

  Her smugness was infuriating. “You will stop frightening the children—”

  “They aren’t afraid. You are.” She stepped toward me. “What are you so afraid of? You’re the college-educated one, the one with logic and reasoning, the one who sneaks off to meet with deputies and private investigators.” She put her hand over her mouth as if she’d accidentally spilled a secret.

  I was stunned. How did she know these things?

  “I intend to find Margo.” My words came out stilted. “I care about this family, Annie. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  She put down the tray of cookies. “I wonder who it is you care so much about. Is it really Margo?”

  “What are you accusing me of?” I rose slowly to my feet, my hands itching to strike her.

  “Why so defensive, Mimi?”

  The children looked from Annie to me and back. Erin stepped between us and grabbed my arm. “Let’s go hide the clues for the scavenger hunt. Come on, Mimi. You’re too upset.”

  I had to escape Annie’s presence or I might do something rash. Annie had driven me to the breaking point, where violence seemed a plausible solution. I picked up the basket with the clues. Erin, Donald, and I went out the back door and into the golden October sunshine.

  As we walked down the trail, I forced the anger from my body. Annie never showed her true colors in front of Berta or Bob. It surprised me that she’d gone on the offensive in front of the children. I consoled myself with the thought that she was growing careless; soon, Berta and Cora would see how she undermined the family.

  “Why are you so mad at Annie?” Erin’s question stopped me.

  For a moment I didn’t know how to respond. “I think Annie is up to no good.”

  Erin and Donald looked uncomfortable. I wondered if she’d been talking to them. Sometimes, late at night, I knew they gathered up on the third floor. Sometimes I heard them laughing and talking. Often the children ended up in my room, frightened from her stories. Yet they wouldn’t stop listening to her. It was as if she’d charmed them, too.

  “You two don’t understand what’s going on.” I wasn’t about to tell them that Annie had her eye on Bob. “Just trust me. She bears watching.”

  “She only wants to be part of the family,” Erin said softly. “She doesn’t have anyone else, and she just wants us to love her.”

  “That sounds so simple, but it isn’t that way. She’s … dishonest.”

  Erin started to say something but stopped. She took the basket from me. “Donald and I are going to hide the clues.” They dashed ahead of me at a dead run.

  The pain of exclusion left me standing perfectly still. The children had left me behind. The canopy of trees created a tunnel of green light, and I walked on toward the old hotel. Even with my feelings hurt, I wanted to check out the bonfire Bob was building and the site for the tables Berta would set up with food.

  Pushing past the hurt, I focused on the beauty of the day. October in South Alabama has the most exquisite light. Not the butter yellow of summer, but something aged with a hint of sadness. Winter hovered just in the distance.

  The land around Belle Fleur contained mostly hardwoods. Pine, a money crop, was not native to the area, and where Belle Fleur had grown up in natural plants, there were oaks, wild cherry, dogwoods, maples, and sycamores. I loved the white, ghostly bark of the sycamores. Their summer green leaves changed overnight to gold and then fell, littering the path. Stepping on them caused a delicious crunch.

  I took my time walking. When I cleared a huge wall of scuppernong vines, I caught sight of the pillars that remained of the Paradise Inn. Even I, who had little imagination, could visualize the façade of
the old hotel. In my mind I heard the strains of a big band and saw the elegant men and women dancing in the cool fall air. The Paradise Inn, back to life.

  Bob’s plans for the renovation were coming along. Mr. Martin had brought in the last of the investors. The money was in place, the drawings were at the last stages of approval. Bob’s excitement was contagious. He expected to start work within a week.

  The giggle caught me unaware. It came so unexpectedly I spun in a complete circle.“Who’s there?”

  Of course there was no answer.

  “I am sick to death of you.” My fury erupted. “When I find you, you’re going to die.”

  The giggle came again from a dense cluster of wild sugarberries. I stepped close to the bush, which was loaded with the juicy purple fruit.

  “Come out, you little bastard.” I hardly ever cursed, but I’d had it with the hide-and-seek. “Show yourself.”

  The bushes rattled, and my heart almost stopped. Whoever was hiding in the wild growth was only twenty yards from me. I’d never been so close.

  “Annie?” Had she somehow gotten ahead of us and hidden to torment me?

  The giggle again. It was so childlike, yet with a hint of knowledge of things that no child should ever know.

  I picked up a stone from the path. I would kill it. Whether it was the dark girl who watched my every move or the blond thing that shifted its shape, I would kill it. Cora had taught me to respect all living creatures, but she’d also made me understand that in the natural world, we sometimes had to fight to survive.

  “Show yourself.” I hefted the rock.

  The bushes shook like an ague had touched them, and then it stepped into the path.

  I saw it clearly. It looked exactly like Donald—the same crystal blue eyes that seemed to hold a chip of the sky. The same dimpled cheeks with the scar of the fish hook. The same thatch of blond hair that fell across his forehead and into his right eye. It wore Donald’s favorite red T-shirt and it lifted a hand to wave in a gesture that perfectly imitated the child I loved.