Twisted Whispers

by Sheri Lewis Wohl

  “Do you?”

  Though she paused for a second before answering, she was nodding as she spoke. “I do. I know he’s kind of a butt. He’s just not the kind of butt who’d kill his wife.”

  The grimace that crossed Thea’s face as she spoke the words made Lorna sad. Thea was strong, but voicing the possibility of death had to hurt. No doubt she must have thought it. They all were certain to have considered it, but saying it out loud was different and far more painful.

  A knock at the door made them all turn. Thea went to the door and pulled it open. Outside, Jeremy and Merry stood on the porch. “Hey, ladies. Thought you could use a gentleman’s touch.”

  It still amazed her how quickly their little group had become a team. Out of disparate circumstances they’d come together and stayed together. In her wildest dreams she’d never imagined living with her brother—and his wife-to-be—at this point in her life. Nor did she imagine being in a relationship that filled her with love and hope every day. The four of them cohabitated in harmony inside the walls of the massive house, and it all worked.

  It was more than just living together though. They seemed to be connected at a level beyond the sight and touch of man. Jeremy and Merry showing up now was an example. By herself, Lorna had possessed the power to see beyond the veil that separated the world of the living from the world of the spirits. With Renee, Jeremy, and Merry beside her, her power seemed to magnify. She didn’t have to tell them either. They knew when they were needed, and they had her back each and every day.

  One more time she heard a knock on the door, and again Thea went to it. No big surprise when she returned with Deputy Carlisle. Katie was primed and ready, and she didn’t waste any time on pleasantries. “Here’s the deal,” she said as she handed each of them a standard-size piece of paper. “We’re going to divide and conquer.”

  “But I’ll need to see them to know.” Lorna could describe the place all she wanted, but she was going to have to see it to know for certain.

  “Got it covered.” Katie held up her smart phone. “It’s called picture messaging.”

  Why hadn’t she thought of that? Technology really was her friend in this instance. “Good idea,” Lorna said and tapped the phone in her pocket.

  Katie gave her a pat on the back. “Hey, I didn’t make deputy just because I’m cute.”

  *

  To say the afternoon was frustrating was putting it mildly. Katie wanted to stamp her feet and throw a tantrum like she used to when she was six years old and things didn’t go her way. Opting for a more adult and dignified approach, she simply internalized like any good cop did. The plan was a good one. They would split up Mom’s list and hit every cemetery on it. Thus far nothing seemed to jog Lorna’s memory. So many of them looked alike: small and surrounded by fences of stone, wood, or wrought iron and with rows of headstones that varied in height from ground level to carved figures rising six feet in the air.

  At least one of them should have triggered something, or so Katie thought, but Lorna looked sad and depressed as she gave the thumbs-down to every one of them. The afternoon had been a total waste of time, and they didn’t have time to waste.

  Now, the six of them sat in the back corner of a trendy pub on North Division drinking beer and mulling over their failure. If all else failed, drink. She didn’t see a ray of hope on a single face. The reality of failure weighed heavy on every set of shoulders, and not one hand even bothered to pick up a beer. So much for the power of alcohol to dull pain and frustration.

  “What now?” Thea asked as she held the dark brew between both hands and stared down into its murky depths.

  Jeremy spoke up first at the same time he smacked his palm on the tabletop. “We start again tomorrow. We might not have found it today. We will in the morning. I feel it right here.” He tapped his palm against his cheek.

  Katie liked Lorna’s brother. He seemed smart, and they really needed his optimism right now. His glass-half-full mentality might very well be misplaced, but she still appreciated it. Like his sister, he had a bit of a glow. He probably wasn’t psychic like Lorna, yet something about him screamed special to Katie, and at this juncture, she’d use anything she could. If only their combined resources could have provided a better result.

  “What’s the point?” Thea asked, still not looking away from her beer.

  Merry put a hand on Thea’s. “We’re going to find her, no matter how long it takes. That’s why we’re all here, and we’re not leaving until we locate her. I promise.”

  Tears began to fall from Thea’s downcast eyes. “It’s too late, you know.”

  Katie couldn’t help but put an arm around Thea’s shoulders and hug her. “Thea, no matter what, we’re going to find Alida, and we’re going to bring her home.”

  She liked that Thea not only accepted her hug but actually leaned into her. The connection between them was powerful, and while she might be failing as a cop at the moment, she damned well wasn’t going to fail as a friend. Maybe she’d known Thea for only a short time, and maybe they were just forging some kind of relationship, but they were definitely friends. The way she felt about Thea was as baffling as it was beautiful. She didn’t usually fall for a woman so fast, especially someone involved in an open case, but none of it mattered because it was what it was.

  For a long minute no one said a word, at least not until the server approached their table with a vase filled with pale roses. She set it in the middle of the table before taking out her notepad. “Can I get you folks anything to eat?”

  Everyone but Lorna said no. Katie turned to look at Lorna, who was still silent and staring at the vase of roses. “We’re all good,” she said in a way she hoped was a polite dismissal. It seemed to work as the server gave them a smile and then went on to another table of guests.

  “What is it, Lorna?” From the way she was staring at those flowers, Katie could almost see the wheels turning. Lorna’s gaze was locked on the roses as if she’d never seen anything like them before.

  “They look wild, don’t they?” she asked in a breathless voice.

  Maybe a little. What possible difference did it make what kind of flowers the server left on their table? “I suppose. Is that important?” Katie couldn’t imagine why it would be.

  Lorna’s eyes were still glued to the roses as she nodded slowly. “Yeah. I think it’s very important.”

  Jeremy put a hand on Lorna’s shoulder. “What is it, Lorna? What are you seeing?”

  Lorna held up a hand as her eyes narrowed. “Give me a sec.”

  Silence fell over their little group, and the only sounds were those of the other patrons, the low rumble of music from speakers high up on the walls, and the clatter of dishware and glasses. Finally, she looked up, her eyes bright and full of energy.

  “Wild Rose,” she declared triumphantly.

  “Wild Rose?” Katie repeated. What the hell did that mean?

  “Yup…Wild Rose. That’s the name. It was over the top of the big wrought-iron gate leading into the cemetery. Until the waitress set the flowers down, I didn’t remember it.”

  Katie was already pulling her phone out of her pocket. “Mom,” she said when the call went through. “Do you know of a cemetery called Wild Rose?” As her mother spoke, she dug a pen from her pocket and started scribbling notes on a napkin. “Thanks.” She punched the off button and slipped the phone back into her pocket.

  “Mom says there’s an old homestead cemetery out north called Wild Rose.”

  “Is it at an intersection of two roads?” Lorna was staring at her with a very eager expression.

  Katie felt hope, real hope, for the first time in days. “Yes, it is.” She looked around at them and nodded. “First thing in the morning, let’s go up there.”

  “Fuck morning,” Jeremy said as he stood up. “I say we check that mother out right now.”

  *

  The light of day was starting to fade by the time his truck was spic and span. He’d taken it to the
car wash first to use the high-power spray. Then at home he’d pulled out his box of professional cleaning supplies and scrubbed every inch. Now it gleamed as though it had just come off the showroom floor. Not so much as a single hair was left anywhere.

  He did appreciate good cleaning. It was another of the lessons the old man taught him. At the time of those excruciating lessons, he wanted to kill him. Especially when the bastard would kick the air out of him because he missed cleaning a millimeter of something. Didn’t matter if it was his prized Corvette or the bathroom floor. The expectation was the same, as was the punishment, if he failed to meet the required standard. In the end, he came to appreciate the beauty of perfection. It had served him well over the years and brought him to this place of supreme satisfaction.

  Now that he’d tidied up everything and handled all the loose ends, he wished he could hunt, just a little. So much out there would benefit from his vision and good work. It was frustrating to so often feel like his hands were tied. And, in fact, they were. He was forced to accomplish his work carefully so it took far more time than he cared for. If things were his way, he’d be like a tsunami roaring through the area and washing it clean.

  But he exercised the patience drilled into him for as long as he could remember. One more of the old man’s hated tutorials. There had been so many and they stood him well now. Another reminder that all things have a way of working out as they should if given enough time.

  Of course that often left him feeling at loose ends. He wanted to work. No, he needed to work and right now he couldn’t. It was too soon. The stakes were high, which was actually good because it showed how important the things he accomplished were. If they weren’t, none of this would matter. He was creating a utopia that, given enough time, all would come to appreciate. The smart ones would realize what a hero he was.

  He went to the refrigerator on the shop bench and pulled a soda from inside. He never stocked any alcohol in his fridge. Given the importance of his goals he had no place in his life for mood-altering substances. He couldn’t afford to be off one iota. Not that booze had ever been a problem for him. It was a totally useless substance, and he didn’t tolerate those who drank to excess. They were losers of the worst kind, right up there with drug addicts, abusers, and liars.

  Leaning against the garage door and sipping on the ice-cold cola, he watched the sunset and appreciated the beauty of it. Deep reds and blues slashed across the horizon where the sky met the mountains. The air was cool and fresh, reminding him that while it wasn’t summer yet, the promise of spring was abundant.

  He liked it here, no question about it. Too bad he wouldn’t be able to stay. In the long run, he would be compelled to move on, at least for a little while. It always worked this way. He could perform his work for a good time, and then it was wise to get along. He’d go somewhere new for a few years, and when it was safe, he’d come back home. There were always places that needed someone like him. He just packed up his belongings and flew away…literally.

  Not just yet, however; he was still needed here, and regardless of anything to the contrary, this was home. It always would be, no matter where else he spent his time. Besides, he wasn’t quite ready to leave her. She was special, not like the others. He wished deeply it could have worked out differently. In the end it had been her choice and she’d chosen badly. He couldn’t help it. He didn’t make the rules. He just followed them.

  With one last swig, he polished off the soda and tossed the can into the recycle bin. Though he might not be able to work tonight, he could ease his restlessness. Pulling the keys out of his pocket, he climbed into his truck, breathing in the strong scent of the cleaner that still lingered. He backed out, hit the automatic garage-door remote to close the door, and then began to drive north.

  “I’m coming, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I’m coming.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Halfway to the Wild Rose Cemetery, Katie’s cell rang. She glanced at the caller ID and, seeing it was the boss, clicked on. “Carlisle.”

  “Katie, when was the last time you talked to Vince?” Don Garfield’s voice was somber, more so than she’d ever heard it. A chill went up her back.

  “Yesterday,” she told him. “I called him a number of times today and it went to voice mail every time. When I asked if anyone had seen him, Chad mentioned he was going somewhere north to follow a lead. Not sure where or for what case. Going up north is pretty broad. No clue where he ended up.”

  Gruffly, he said, “He went north all right, but not on a lead.”

  The tone in his voice made the chills in her body go glacial. “What’s happened?”

  “He’s dead.”

  She must have heard him wrong. Driving and having this kind of conversation wasn’t happening, so she pulled to the shoulder and stopped. She needed to give this call her complete attention. “Say that again.”

  “Katie, he’s dead,” he said slowly, and the despair mixed with fury left no question about the truth of it.

  “No. Fucking. Way. Pardon my French.” She thought of cocky, arrogant Vince and couldn’t picture him dead. Guys like him didn’t die.

  “It gets worse.”

  “Jesus, Don, how the hell can it get worse?”

  “Whoever killed him tried to cover it up by torching him.”

  She lowered her head until her forehead rested on the steering wheel, the phone still pressed to her ear. He had been acting weird lately, and she’d wondered what the hell was up with him. Maybe she should have paid more attention or taken her concerns to Don. Maybe if she had, Vince would still be alive.

  “How? Where?”

  “Out past Tum Tum in Stevens County. A local resident trail-running with his dog discovered his body. Don’t think the guy will be running that route again anytime soon.”

  She sat up and stared out the window, picturing the area. A good lot of space for someone who wanted to make a big fire. “How bad?”

  “Pretty ugly. Body’s in rough shape. Fucker used gasoline to make sure the fire was nice and hot. We’ll have to get a positive dental match for confirmation, but from my standpoint, it’s definitely him.”

  Don didn’t jump to conclusions, so if he was sure the body was Vince’s, it was. “Who would do something like that? I mean, I know better than anybody what a pain in the ass Vince could be, but to burn him? It takes a sick bastard to be that evil.”

  “Hard to say who hated him enough to be so brutal, Katie. He’s put some bad people in jail, and you know as well as I do how far some will go to get revenge.”

  She did know. It was the reality of the profession they were in, and the suspect list was bound to be long. This was the first time, however, she’d experienced a loss like this, and it made her sick all over.

  “What do you need me to do?” Regardless of whatever else she was working, an officer down took priority, and when that officer was in her unit, it zoomed to the top. Vince might have given her a hard time and pissed her off on a daily basis, but she’d do everything she could to bring in his killer.

  “For tonight, nothing. I just wanted to give you a heads-up before it hit the news. We’ll meet in the morning.”

  “Thanks, Don. I’ll come to your office first thing.”

  “Sounds good. And, Katie—”

  “Yeah?”

  “Watch your back.”

  “Damn straight.”

  In silence, she put the car back into gear and pulled onto the road. Plain and simple, she was in shock. Nobody said a word the rest of the way out. Even when she parked at the outskirts of the cemetery, they seemed to be waiting for her, and she appreciated the respect and time they gave her to process what happened. She opened her mouth to try to explain when her cell rang again. What did Don want now? Surely there couldn’t be more bad news. Then she glanced at the number on the display. It wasn’t Don. She almost let it go to voice mail.

  “Carlisle.”

  “Gotta know.”

  The voice threw he
r for a second. When she got it, she was still confused. “Brandon, why are you calling me?” Why the hell was the IT Tech getting ahold of her this late at night?

  “Call me curious.”

  Had he heard what happened to Vince? “About Vince?”

  “No, dude. I mean that’s sick and all, but I’m more curious what you’re up to out in the boonies.”

  Her heart started to pound, and a trickle of fear made the hair stand up on the back of her neck. “Brandon,” she said slowly. “How do you know where I am?”

  “Oops.” With that single word she realized Brandon was, or had been, drinking. “Kinda forgot to mention I GPSed your phone.” He giggled.

  “You’re tracking me?”

  “Well, yeah, kinda. I am an IT God, you know. It’s what we do.”

  A horrible thought jumped into her mind. “Were you tracking Vince too?”

  “That butthead? Why would I want to do that? He’s not near as awesome as you are. Oh, gotta go. Pizza’s here. Be cool out there, Officer.”

  He was gone, and Katie was left with a dawning truth so bad it almost made her sick.

  *

  Storm clouds were gathering in the east, growing darker and more menacing as the minutes passed. The Watcher stood at the edge of the water, staring as the waves grew more turbulent at his feet. The sea screamed its fury. Time was out for her, and he didn’t know how else to help.

  On the other side of the mountains, evil grew in strength and intent. She was the only one who could stop him, and he’d tried to give her the tools she needed. As if he hadn’t already spent an eternity attempting to redeem himself, God had sent him a challenge seemingly impossible to meet.

  Almost impossible, he reminded himself. So far, she had taken what he had sent her and made it work. His power was limited, and the limits reached, judging by the strength of the storm he watched rumble and roll in the distance. He kept his gaze on the clouds growing blacker, as if the evil that threatened her was gathering power.