Night Wraith

by Christopher Fulbright

  Then the lights flickered again, sending the palatial home into intermittent darkness as the crackling green electricity returned. Witch-fire shot like a core of lightning to the roof and scalded those who came in contact with it. The heart of the light grew white hot, engulfing the wraith.

  As quickly as it had come, it was gone.

  The parlor of the home was piled with dismembered bodies and severed limbs. It stank of offal, blood, and a chemical smell that might have been a combination of ozone and burning meth. The room looked like an ancient battlefield on which no army had won.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Chief Gavin Wagner stood in the kitchen doorway staring at the phone he’d just hung up when Carly walked in the front door. He couldn’t change the grim look on his face for her, couldn’t hide the dreadful feeling that settled over him after what he’d just heard from Oliver: a party in Sunshine Estates, a complete slaughter, and unbelievable reports of the thing that committed the atrocities.

  On top of all that, today was the day. The anniversary of Beth’s death.

  Carly came to him and gave him a big hug. He held her in his arms and thought, Dear God, has it really been six years since Beth died? In some ways it seemed like a very long time, but holding his daughter in his arms, a full foot taller and much more womanly in figure than she had ever been, it seemed to have gone by so fast. Now she was a teenager. And teenagers were dying in this town. His town. And he was helpless to stop it from happening again.

  “Dad?” she said. “Are you all right?”

  Should I lie? Should I say everything’s okay when she can plainly see that it isn’t?

  “Carly,” he said, “I just got a call from Oliver about a party ... another one.”

  His eyes searched her face. He’d never talked to Beth about his cases, and he’d carried that tradition on with Carly. Part of it was sparing them the gruesome details, protecting the integrity of evidence, and avoiding unnecessary paranoia, but part of it was that he desperately had to leave work behind when he came home. He wasn’t always successful with that emotionally, but not talking about anything in any detail at home helped. All she’d ever known about his work were the basics, the same things he’d told the newspaper. But now it had gone beyond that. Whatever was happening in his town was spiraling out of control. Detectives and sheriff’s deputies were swarming the station, had their noses deep in Abigail’s father’s murder investigation, and after word of this reached the lieutenant, Carson Lake would be buzzing with more county cops, and maybe even state cops if they felt backup was needed for patrols.

  Gavin wasn’t entirely okay with that, but it meant it was out of his hands and it relieved him of certain pressures. And though it was a little like admitting defeat, it also meant that he had crossed an important line. The safety of the people of Carson Lake was important to him, but, truth be told, the safety of his daughter came first. If the sheriff’s department could do anything to stop the murders, he prayed that God himself would grant his mercy and lend a hand to help them succeed. He wasn’t ready to walk away from Carson Lake’s troubles, but he was ready to do whatever it took to keep his daughter safe, and to place the rest of the town in the hands of others until that was firmly handled.

  These thoughts stirred in his head like alphabet soup. A tangled procession of ravaged corpses. And none too far in the background of it all was the anniversary of his wife’s death.

  Late wife.

  Yes, putting a bullet in her brain, getting planted in the ground, and leaving them here to fend for themselves did a lot toward making her his late wife. But his blossoming relationship with Karen helped him realize that only now, only recently, had he began to let her go emotionally. He wasn’t fully there yet, but his feelings for Karen were strong and growing stronger. He was anxious about Karen’s safety as well. And knew it was just a matter of time before he was ready to take a bigger step with her. But all of this ...

  “Dad? What party?”

  He groaned and sat, rubbing his face. His eyes suddenly hurt. A dull ache wrapped around the back of his skull. He wanted a drink.

  “Do you know a Christine Gamin, Carly?”

  “Yes,” she said after a pause.

  “Did you know she was having a party at her house tonight?”

  “Yes, but I wasn’t planning on going.”

  He waved his hand dismissing the notion. “Carly, honey ... the party turned into a goddamn massacre.”

  “Oh my god. Who...?”

  “A lot of kids, from the sounds of it. Twenty or more.”

  Carly went slowly to the couch, walking unsteady with the shock of the news. She sat heavily next to him.

  “Abigail ... and the witch, she was right,” Carly said absently to herself.

  “What’s that?”

  “I-I can’t be sure. I mean....” Carly paused and looked at him.

  “Carly, do you know anything about what’s happening here?” He regarded his daughter with a mixture of fear and apprehension at her mention of those names together. After Mr. Holman’s death and Abi’s testimony, the story about what had happened at Abigail’s house was seriously in question.

  “We went to the witch’s house yesterday, Dad.”

  “The witch? Vanessa Maeveen? On Washington Hill?”

  “Yes.”

  “God, girl, what on Earth for?”

  “Abi wanted to go.” Carly looked at him, eyes shiny with tears. “After what happened at her house, her spell ... she thought the witch could help her.” Her tone took on a timbre of panic he hadn’t heard in her before. “She thinks she set something loose, Dad. Something terrible. So she went to the witch and asked for her help to take care of the thing, but the witch gave her some old book of spells and told her she’d have to come back—”

  Something greater than a chill worked through Gavin; it was a temporary paralysis at the words pouring from his daughter’s mouth. “Carly, what the hell—?”

  “I told her not to do it. I told her that messing with all of that stuff got her into all of this and that messing with more of it sure wasn’t going to get her out of it. I thought—”

  “Whoa, Carly. Hold on.” He gently gripped her shoulders. She had begun to shudder and cry, words tangling. “Slow down. Tell me what’s going on. Tell me exactly why Abigail wanted to go to the witch’s house. And start from the beginning.”

  Carly told him everything about how Abi had been meddling with witchcraft, how she’d been casting small spells and thought they’d been working. She told him about the night Abi set up the magick circle and candles to cast a curse spell on Sadie McBay because of what she’d done with Ethan. Then, in halting, half-disbelieving tones, she related Abi’s description of what had come through the portal. “After I saw what I saw up in my room the other night, Dad, I believed her. I felt how much she believed it when she told me. We’ve known each other so long, and she’d just been through all of this ... oh, Dad! I don’t know what’s going on, but there is something supernatural at work here. In our house, in Abi’s house, at these parties, maybe in this whole town! I’m part of it, Abi’s part of it ...”

  “Okay, okay, okay,” he said. He calmed her by stroking her hair and holding her for a minute until she came back down a few notches. He held her at arm’s length then, looked sternly into her eyes. “You said you guys went to Vanessa Maeveen’s.”

  “Yes.”

  “And? What did she say?”

  Gavin could feel his daughter’s inner conflict. Her eyes flickered in the low living room light. She seemed to probe him through some psychic means before she said, “Dad, was Mom cheating on you? With the man at the metaphysical bookstore who was treating her with that new age stuff?”

  It was an anvil to the gut. He’d just told Karen the other night, true, but he’d never wanted Carly to know becau
se he didn’t want her to have any ill feelings about her mother. Still, as much as he burned with indignation that Vanessa Maeveen had taken it upon herself to burden his daughter with such a bombshell, he had no one to blame but himself for not being honest with Carly. There was no shame in it, but it seemed very much like a mistake now, in this moment, faced with having to answer the question under these circumstances.

  “That’s what Vanessa Maeveen told you.”

  “Yes. And I guess from your reaction it’s true.”

  Gavin’s hands fell from his daughter’s shoulders into his lap. He stared at them, old pain ebbing behind the raw fear for them and what was going on.

  “Why didn’t you tell me if you knew something like that was going on?”

  “It wasn’t important for you to know. And I didn’t want you to think less of your mother.”

  “And finding out this way was better?” Carly took an indignant teenager tone that ignited sudden anger that burned in his face.

  “Well, I sure didn’t intend for you to go snooping around Vanessa Maeveen’s asking questions for yourself, damn it!”

  Carly was stunned into silence. Gavin felt a cold wash of guilt.

  “Look, Carly, I’m sorry. It was bad enough to find out the way I did—”

  “How did you find out?”

  Gavin swallowed, not sure he wanted to have this conversation. He knew he was within his rights to cut it off here, to not go any further with it, but really, especially now, Carly had a right to know everything he knew about Beth. For better or for worse. With the hell their lives had been dealing with her bi-polar disorder, perhaps this wasn’t so much a surprise as an added disappointment. Fact was, she had never really been in control in her down moments, and Beth had, in many ways, been a victim of her condition.

  “After your mother died, I found bags of strange herbs in the medicine cabinet. I’d searched online to see what they were, and some were parts of New Age methods for coping with depression, but another was used primarily in occult practices ... conjurations, bewitchings. A weed called Vervain. I didn’t know what to make of it when I read that. I guess I just assumed it had a dual purpose, and surely the intention when it was given to her wasn’t to invoke anything, but to help with her treatment.

  “After a few weeks went by and when we went to sell the old house, I was cleaning out the closet and found a shoebox full of letters between her and the guy who’d been treating her, the new age guy at the metaphysical bookstore, Davis Crowley. The letters were pretty plain about what had been going on between them. If there had been any questions about it at that point, the letters answered them. It went far beyond any sort of casual affair, Carly. She lived another life with him, was another person. You know how she was.”

  Gavin felt his pain welling, opening old wounds, wrenching it from deep places it should always have stayed. Carly drew up next to him on the couch. Her touch comforted him.

  “She was really involved with Davis Crowley at the time she committed suicide. And when I found out and stormed to the metaphysical bookstore to confront Davis, he was gone. So I dumped it all on Vanessa Maeveen and she was furious. She and Davis had been engaged to be married ... or whatever it is those crazy fucking people do to join together.” He tried to lighten things with a laugh, but it came out like the sound of bitter hurt. “Davis disappeared after that. I hunted him. Vanessa swore that she hadn’t seen him since news of Beth’s suicide got around, and it seemed to me that if she had seen him, she would have gladly delivered his head to me on a platter. She was just as hurt as I was ... but, that was all. No resolution. He disappeared. Three more years of watching the old bookstore and Oliver and I were convinced he’d never come back to the house.”

  He blinked, coming out of his grim reverie. Carly looked apologetic.

  “I’m sorry, Dad. It’s just that, when she hit me with that—”

  “I know. It’s okay.”

  The sound of a vehicle crunching snow beneath its tires came from the driveway. Headlights spanned the front living room window, casting beams of light through the shadows that had gathered around them as they spoke. The memory of Beth’s apparition upstairs sent a shiver through Gavin, and Carly seemed to catch it. Soon, the sound of a closing car door and a knock broke their tense spell.

  Gavin stood. The front door opened. Karen stuck her head inside.

  “Hello? Gavin?”

  “Come on in, Karen.”

  “What are you guys doing sitting here in the dark?”

  The only light came from the one he’d left on in the kitchen behind them.

  “We were just talking and ended up in here, I guess.”

  Gavin rested a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. She laid her hand atop his and gave him a reassuring look.

  “Hi, Karen,” said Carly.

  “Hey, you. How are you doing?”

  “Okay, I guess.”

  “Are you all packed up to come with me?”

  “What?” Carly turned her head abruptly to look at him. Gavin groaned. After the terrible news that came in over the phone from Oliver, he’d completely forgotten to tell Carly he wanted her to go with Karen tonight while he went to work. But now he wasn’t sure that work was where he’d be headed tonight, despite the massacre. The sheriff’s department would handle it, and he’d put in enough hours on the recent investigations that no one would balk too much, at least not right away. But Carly ...

  “Dad, I have a date with Ethan tonight! He had to go home and take care of his mom until later and then he’s headed over to pick me up.”

  “Carly, with everything going on, I really wish you’d go with Karen. It’d make me feel better. You’ll be safer.”

  “Our own house isn’t safe anymore?”

  “Not until I figure out what’s going on. And especially not since you’ve seen ... what you saw. Look, Karen suggested—and I agreed—that it might be a good idea to talk to a pastor about what’s happened here in the house, with the haunting. At least just to talk. I don’t know if he can do anything or if it’s a total waste of time, but I’m not comfortable with you out with friends, and especially not here alone, not now. And not after what you’ve just told me. Can’t you and Ethan reschedule?”

  Carly gave a deep sigh. Her head fell to her chest and she wove her hands together as if she were ready to pray. She stared despondently into her lap for a minute, then looked up at him through the shadows of the living room. Karen turned on a light in the dining room and took off her jacket, draping it over the back of one of the formal dining chairs. Gavin thought again what a beautiful young woman his little girl had become.

  “You’re not asking me, you’re telling me.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I won’t feel comfortable with you alone with any of your friends until after this—whatever this is—gets resolved.” He pressed his lips together in a self-deprecating smile, like he was the one being the fool. “Can you call Ethan? See if he’ll reschedule?”

  Carly nodded.

  “Thanks, sweetheart. You know I’ve only got your safety in mind.”

  She stood and gave him a hug. “I know.”

  “Can I come up and give you a hand packing some things?” asked Karen.

  “I can handle it. Thanks.” Carly trudged up to her room, footfalls heavy as she ascended the stairs.

  Gavin looked across the room at Karen. She came to him with a sympathetic kiss. She smelled divine, and he felt a pang of guilt for the thoughts that came immediately to mind—thinking back to the other night when they’d made love upstairs in the bedroom, replaying the image of her naked body caressed by near darkness. She hung onto him loosely, hands folded behind his neck. She leaned back and looked up at him.

  “You’re doing the right thing,” she said. “I’ll take her to my place. The pastor from my mother’s o
ld church said he’d be at my apartment tomorrow around 1:00 to talk to Carly, see what he can do. He’s a nice guy. Pastor Greg. Down to Earth. He won’t think we’re crazy, anyway.”

  Gavin nodded. His line of sight strayed back to the stairs, where his daughter had just disappeared. “After talking to Carly tonight, I think I’m going to try a different tack before tomorrow.”

  “You’re going back to the old witch’s house.”

  “Vanessa Maeveen.” He clinched his jaws. Karen let go of him. She stood there in front of him as if she suddenly needed something he couldn’t give her right now. He felt a pang of guilt and grabbed his coat from the hall tree.

  “You’re going right now.”

  “I’ll be back. Wait for me here.”

  He walked out the door into the icy night.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Carly picked through the clothes in her room, half-heartedly throwing the ones she was going to take for tomorrow onto her bed. She couldn’t be angry at Dad, but she was crushed, depressed, and utterly drained of joy at having to call Ethan and cancel their date after everything they’d been through this week.

  “Damn it,” she whispered.

  Carly tossed her boots into her backpack and then looked at the phone on her nightstand. The darkness beyond her window stirred. It drew her attention, recalling again that night seemingly years ago when Ethan had visited her here. When her dreams of a life with him had been untainted by images of Sadie McBay, before Dad began grappling with these insane murders, before everything that had happened beginning Saturday night with the deaths of Raylee and Mason at Rainbow Falls. She hadn’t bore them any ill will, personally, but she knew that Raylee hadn’t liked her for some reason and had said some nasty things about her to some of the guys. Still, she wouldn’t have wished her dead.

  The darkness outside her window stirred again. She went to the window and drew back the curtain, half-expecting to see Ethan’s shape perched there.