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Twisted Whispers

Page 21

by Sheri Lewis Wohl


  Getting his guests from the plane to the truck was generally quite easy too. Nobody paid him much attention, and if they did, his embarrassed explanation was simple: his companion overdid wine at dinner. That excuse worked every time, which so far hadn’t been that often. In fact, it worked incredibly well because most looked away when they thought a woman was sloppy drunk.

  Tonight was a good one, and no one was around by the time he returned with his prize. No explanations were required. He got the plane into the hangar, his toy out and into the truck, and then secured the hangar doors. She snored away the whole time, not stopping even when he hauled her out of the plane and deposited her into the pickup.

  Traffic was light as he headed north. He’d like to think he was spontaneous and tonight was a lark. But he was smart enough to realize he was a creature of habit, and far from being a lark, this trip was a necessary part of his routine. The Northside was his comfort zone. He loved the mountains and the pine trees, the winding roads and star-studded sky. It was where he always felt most powerful.

  No reason to think things would go wrong tonight. They never had before, and he’d been playing his games for a good long time now. If it ain’t broke, why fix it?

  When he reached his special place, he pulled the truck into the shadows. The big trees on the perimeter provided perfect cover, the low, overhanging branches casting deep shadows. It was ideal. In fact it was one of the things that made this place speak to his soul. The second his feet touched the grass, serenity washed over him.

  From the back of the crew cab he hauled her out. She was warm and pliable, still heavily under the influence. In other words, perfect. Just the way he liked them. He kissed her cheek before laying her gently on the ground. She made a soft murmur. That was it.

  Back at his truck, he took out the tools he needed for tonight’s game. As always, they consisted of a tarp, a shovel, several lengths of rope, and a long cloth. Usually he didn’t need a gag but better to have it close at hand, just in case things turned in a noisy direction. Another reason this was a special place: because of the silence. He liked silence.

  “Hello, sunshine,” he said as he kneeled beside her. She still didn’t respond. He raised his arm and then brought his open hand down hard against her cheek. “Wakey wakey.”

  *

  Lorna came straight up out of bed, sweat beading on her forehead, and not from the pleasure of making love to Renee. No, this moisture was cold and borne of pure fear. Her body was shaking, and as she held up a hand close to her face she could see how it trembled.

  Renee slept peacefully next to her with her long hair splayed across the pillow and the covers pulled up to her glorious shoulders. It didn’t matter how many times she woke up next to Renee, a flutter in the pit of her stomach happened each and every time. How she loved it.

  Except right now it was tainted with the emotion that had jolted her from a deep and satisfying sleep. Something dark was walking in the night. Or as her grandmother probably would have said, someone had just walked across her grave.

  Quietly she got up and slipped on some sweats. Then she went to her jacket where she’d tossed it across the back of a chair and slid her hand into the pocket. Earlier that day, she’d borrowed the keychain that held Alida’s work-truck key. Actually it wasn’t the whole keychain, just the fob, and as the keys were still in the ignition at the impound lot, no one had noticed and, the way she figured it, wouldn’t for quite a while.

  Holding the fob gingerly between two fingers, she padded into the bathroom and silently closed the door behind her. Only then did she turn on the light. Sitting on the closed toilet lid she took a deep breath and closed her entire hand around the fob. It was warm and getting warmer. Maybe it would only work in the truck. The whole seeing-into-another-dimension thing was inconsistent; what would or wouldn’t happen was anybody’s guess. Desperate as she was, anything was worth a try.

  “Come on, Alida, talk to me,” she whispered. “I need your help. Please.”

  For a few seconds nothing happened and she decided it wasn’t going to work. Then the lights began to waver, and a sound something like the crash of the waves against the beach near her home filled her ears.

  Stars were bright, like a thousand twinkling lights spreading across the night sky. The scent of freshly plowed fields wafted through the air, and a cool breeze kissed her cheek. She shivered and wrapped her arms across her breasts.

  Where the hell was she? The earth was firm beneath her feet, her body alive with everything that whirled around her and touched every sense. Despite the sensory experience, she somehow knew she was a spectator, a visitor, and an interloper. She was not meant to be here.

  At the sound of a vehicle she turned in time to see a dark pickup drive out of the cemetery and onto the dark country road that ran parallel to the spot where she stood. Shock rocked her when she realized she recognized that pickup.

  The driver didn’t see her, of that she was certain. Just as certain as she was that no one would or could see her. But she saw everything, even in the darkness punctuated only by the twinkling stars and the sliver of light from a crescent moon. It was as if her eyes possessed the power of an owl observing all that the night tried to hide and failed.

  Around her, long and unkempt grass spread out, dotted by headstones old and often leaning. In the moonlight it was almost magical. Quiet, peaceful, and serene. For a long moment she stood and stared, wondering why she was here. What had brought her to this place?

  As the red taillights of the truck faded so too did the sound of its powerful engine. Cool air brushed across her skin, and the tendrils of a weeping willow moved like the ripples of a curtain in a gentle breeze. She was surrounded by nothing but the silence of a country night. She couldn’t even hear herself breathe. It was unnerving.

  When a sound broke through the silence she whirled, trying to pinpoint where it came from. Sobs. Was that what she was hearing? She craned her head up. Was it coming from above? No, nothing was there.

  She turned a full circle, scanning the lonely headstones. Still nothing. Slowly, she brought her gaze down until she stared at the ground. Bending one knee, she lowered herself to the rough grass. As she did, the sound of sobbing grew. It was still muffled, as if it was coming from a long way off, but definitely louder the closer she dropped to the ground.

  Moisture soaked through her pants, the sensation icy cold against her skin. Gently, she stretched out on the grass until her head was against the earth, her ear pressed close. Feeling the cold and dampness against her ear, she closed her eyes and listened. There it was: a woman’s sobs. At first it didn’t make sense. This dream, or whatever it was, seemed to be playing games with her. Slowly realization dawned. This wasn’t a trick or a game; truth was being horribly and vividly revealed to her. The sounds filling her head were not one woman’s sobs; they were a chorus of many. Her eyes closed tightly as she listened, wondering if one voice was familiar.

  The cries filling her ears broke her heart. She’d come looking for one, and yet suddenly it was glaringly clear that the lost was far more than a single soul. Slowly she opened her eyes, her ear still pressed against the cool earth. She was too saddened to move. Across the grass the lonely headstones that had stood for a long time in this almost-forgotten place were ghostly shadows. She started to rise and then dropped back down as something caught her attention. Again she stretched out on the cold grass and kept her vision parallel with the ground. The position gave her a unique perspective. Only then did she see what had been hidden from her as she’d stood gazing across the rows of headstones. Dotted around the edge of this old silent city were rectangular areas where the ground had sunk. The depressions were all the same: about three feet wide and five to six feet long.

  *

  The Watcher dropped his hands and sighed. The energy it took to help her see through the veils separating the worlds depleted him. If he were physically closer, the task would be far easier. The sad reality of his life was that he co
uld not. His penance was to stand on this land for as long as it took to complete his sentence on earth.

  Once again his plight was repeated in a sad litany of repetition. She needed him and yet she was so far away. He could feel her need in his heart and soul. How he wanted to go to her, to hold her hand, to make her understand how special she was. He wanted to give her strength and courage, to show her the way.

  He’d been lost so long ago and his price for taking the wrong path so very great. To earn his way home God had given him a mission, and after all these long years he finally understood the full import of the task he’d been graced with. Still, his path to redemption was not an easy one. So much was out of his control. She was his way home, though she would never know, for that was for him and God alone.

  He must help her. Must make her see and understand. His struggle to find a way wore him down. To know and understand his mission, to feel so deeply and yet to be held back was akin to burning in the fires of hell. Perhaps such was part of the great plan and part of his penance.

  All he could do was continue to try. His shoulders slumped and he lowered his giant body to the ground. Tonight the air was clear and filled with the familiar scent of the breeze coming off the ocean. No storms. No darkness. No companionship. The house on the bluff was silent, and only the old woman rested inside. The others who filled the home with light and goodness were far away. That he missed them all was an epiphany he didn’t expect.

  How he hoped she would find the way, for as she did, so too would he. His head lowered, his eyes closed, he whispered words in a language long since vanished from the world of the here and now. Then he was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Lorna dropped the key fob and put her hands to her face. She no longer heard the sobs of others. Instead, her own sobs were bouncing off the bathroom walls and filling her ears. The pain in her heart was white hot. How could she possibly make this right? The clarity that came now was far from welcome.

  The bathroom door winged open, bounced off the wall, and nearly smacked Renee as she charged in. She took Lorna’s face between her two hands. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

  At her touch Lorna closed her eyes and took comfort in the simple feel of Renee’s palms against her skin. Just her touch alone eased her aching heart. After a moment she opened her eyes and met Renee’s worried ones. She blew out a long breath and said the words that were so painful. “Alida is dead.”

  “Oh, baby, you don’t know that.”

  The truth made her voice shake. “Yeah, I do.”

  Renee’s eyes narrowed and she studied her for what seemed like five minutes. Resignation made her shoulders slump. “Tell me.” Her hands dropped from Lorna’s face as she sat on the edge of the bathtub.

  She blew out another breath as she tried to put it all in perspective. “I had another vision, except it wasn’t like any of the others so far. Bizarre and scary.”

  Renee nodded. “I kind of figured that. Tell me about it.”

  Chills rolled up her spine as she pictured the view while she’d lain on the ground. It came back to her in vivid detail, as if she were still there. “She’s buried in a cemetery.” She didn’t have to explain who she meant by she.

  Renee stroked a hand across her hair. “Lorna, that doesn’t make sense unless you’re seeing the future, and so far everything you’ve witnessed are things from the past.”

  She put up a hand as if to physically ward off any more words. “I know it sounds weird, but stay with me. I held the key fob in my hand…”

  “The key fob? What fob?

  “Oh yeah, forgot to mention I snagged it from Alida’s truck. Anyway, I’m holding it between my hands, and the next thing I know I’m in an old cemetery somewhere out in the boonies. Around it on two sides are plowed fields ready for planting, and the other two sides are bordered by roads. It sits at the intersection of two country roads, and around the perimeter of the cemetery are graves.”

  “The perimeter?”

  “That’s what’s so creepy about it. These aren’t official graves. Someone has buried people around the edge of the cemetery, not in it like normal burials.”

  “I heard of something like that once. People years back couldn’t afford a proper burial so they’d sneak in at night and bury their loved ones on the edges of a cemetery so they were on blessed ground.”

  “I don’t think this has anything to do with consecrated ground. I think some sick sonofabitch is using this place as his personal burial garden. And the worst part is, she’s there, I know it. I feel it.”

  “How could you tell there were graves? Were they marked somehow?”

  She shook her head. “When I was standing I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. It was a regular old cemetery with little maintenance, big and small headstones, many of them leaning and near collapse. It was only when I was flat on the ground that I could see the distinctive impressions. And then I heard the cries.”

  “Oh, Lorna,” she said and hugged her tight. The embrace gave her strength.

  “My dear sweet friend is there beneath the shaggy grass. Renee, it was horrible and it wasn’t just Alida. She’s not alone. I don’t know how many are there, and I’m terrified to find out. We have to locate the cemetery and bring them all home.”

  Renee was nodding. “I may not be from around here, but I have to think there are a good many of those old cemeteries around this area. How can we narrow it down to the one you saw?”

  The same thought had already occurred to her. The area surrounding Spokane traditionally consisted of farmland populated by families that had worked the land for decades. Generations of families were buried throughout the county in the small, old cemeteries that dotted the landscape north, west, east, and south. The locations were different, the look of them pretty much the same.

  “Yeah, ahead of you on that one.”

  “Any thoughts on how to narrow it down?” Renee asked.

  “Two distinct features that caught my attention might help us. A big weeping willow grew in the corner of this one, and the entrance was a tall wrought-iron gate with a curved sign over the top.”

  “We’ll find it. Your vision gives us the first real lead, and we’ll be able to find it.”

  “I really hope so.” As heartbreaking as it was to realize Alida was lost to them, she wanted to push hard to bring her home. No one deserved to be abandoned in anonymous graves. Not Alida and not any of the nameless others beside her.

  “What do we do next?”

  She sighed at the thought of what she was compelled to do. It wouldn’t be fair or right not to. “I’ll have to tell Thea.”

  Renee put a hand to her mouth. “Oh, God, that’s not going to be easy.”

  “No. It’s going to crush her.” Her voice broke.

  Renee took both her hands. “I think we should talk to that deputy first.”

  She started to shake her head and stopped. Perhaps Renee was right. Katie might be able to glean a little more information from what she’d seen. Before she said anything to Thea, she wanted to find Alida. Bringing her home was the least she could do for her friend. With Katie’s help it could happen.

  “That’s a good idea. I’ll call her.” She got up, intending to go grab her cell phone. Renee didn’t let loose of her hands.

  “Baby, it’s two a.m. Call in a few hours.”

  “But…”

  “If what you’ve seen is what it sounds like, four or five hours won’t make a difference.”

  Lorna paused and blinked back tears. Once again, Renee was right. It just hurt so much to finally accept that she wouldn’t be able to bring Alida home alive.

  *

  Katie woke up smiling for the first time in a long while. She jumped up and hit the shower. Though her mood was good, the seriousness of the promise she’d made last night still weighed heavy on her shoulders. The weight was all the heavier because of what had happened when she left Thea’s. That thought brought a flush of warmth.
r />   When she’d walked to the door to leave last night, she’d paused and turned to look at Thea. It was then she’d caught the reflection of her own feelings in her eyes. In them she glimpsed passion, attraction, and hope. Without giving herself a second to change her mind, she’d kissed her. She’d meant for it to be a gentle touch of the lips but failed miserably. It became hard and urgent, the kiss of a lover. The best part was, Thea responded in kind. She didn’t pull away.

  Her fingertips strayed to her lips. Even now, she could almost taste the sweetness of her lips and the promise they held. It spurred her on even more than before. She’d committed herself to this case from the moment it was assigned to her, and that was before it became personal. Now it was the one. The case every deputy encountered somewhere in their career and the one they wouldn’t give up on…ever.

  She was still smiling when her cell phone rang. It was barely seven, and so it surprised her when she heard Lorna’s voice. By the time she finished talking with Lorna, she was even more motivated. At this point she wasn’t sure if any of what Lorna told her would help, but she intended to follow up on it. She was still mulling it over when she reached the PSB.

  At her desk, she started with the information she’d gleaned from the other states and counties reporting similar disappearances. She pushed back in her chair and looked around the room. Where the hell was Vince? He managed to show up every time she didn’t need him, so the moment she wanted to see him, he was missing. She could use his help.

 

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