Broken Dragon (The Chronicles of Mara Lantern, Book 3)

by D. W. Moneypenny

  “In jail most likely.”

  “Yeah. So what’s up?” she asked.

  “My lieutenant handed me a strange report this morning that he wants me to look into, and I think it might be related to our disappearing passengers. Interested in tagging along?”

  “I don’t know. Everyone keeps telling me how I look like death warmed over. Maybe I should take a pass on this one. What makes you think it’s related to the disappearances?”

  “Woman named Stella Reese, who was a passenger on Flight 559, filed a report day before yesterday that some kind of phenomenon appeared in her kitchen and attempted to kidnap her by evaporating her. That’s how she said it to the officer taking the report—evaporating her. Does that make sense to you?”

  “Did she say anything about a blue bubble or a sphere of some kind?”

  “No, that’s all the information the report has. I’m sure the officer thought she was a crackpot and didn’t ask a lot of follow-up questions. Just a phenomenon in the kitchen that tried to kidnap her by means of evaporation. The husband stopped it by using a mixer, I think it says.” He paused for a second, and Mara heard him shuffling papers. “Yeah, that’s what it says. What’s a blue bubble got to do with anything?”

  “Long story. When are you going to see her?”

  “I was heading out in about an hour. You in or not?”

  “Yeah, I’m in. Can you pick me up at the shop?”

  CHAPTER 43

  Detective Bohannon swung his blue pickup truck snuggly against the arc of the curb in the cul-de-sac of a nondescript subdivision in West Linn. Just behind the truck’s open bed, a concrete driveway sloped up to a dark wood-sided house that was all sharp angles and vertical windows, one of those modern designs from the ’70s that tried too hard and now just looked dated. Mara hopped from the passenger side and met him at the back of the truck.

  “If you had told me that we were going to be all the way down here, I could have driven home and met you in Oregon City,” she said.

  “Sorry, I just assumed you would want to go back to work after we were done, so I didn’t think it would matter where this woman lived,” he said. “Are you sure you are up to this? You do look a little—”

  Mara held up her hand. “Don’t say it. I know I look tired. Let’s just get this over with, and maybe I can go home and catch a nap. What’s this woman’s name again?”

  Bohannon waved her up the driveway and said, “Stella Reese. I looked her up. She’s forty-two, married. Doesn’t look like they have kids. She’s a substitute teacher.”

  At the front door he pressed the doorbell and shuffled his feet on the Welcome mat. After a moment a large blond woman wearing a pastel compression workout top and black tights answered the door with a bright smile. Her face was flushed, and her forehead was beaded with sweat.

  “Hi. How can I help you?” she said, her words broken up with breaths.

  “Sorry to interrupt your workout, ma’am,” the detective said. “Are you Stella Reese? I’m Detective Daniel Bohannon. I called earlier this morning.”

  “Oh, right. Stel said you were coming by. No, I’m not Stella. I’m her sister, Emily. Come on in and have a seat, and I’ll tell her that you’re here.” She backed away from the door and pointed them into the sunken living room to the left. “Watch your step. I always stumble going in there for some reason. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared into the rear of the house.

  Bohannon and Mara sat on a low boxy sofa behind a glass-and-wood coffee table, the top of which was hidden under a pile of picture books featuring cats, a bowl of colorful stones and a jumble of remote controls. Across the room were a couple armchairs that looked as if they had been sliced off the ends of the couch. Between them sat a table too large to be an end table but too small to be a desk. A floor lamp stood behind the table, but its shade arched forward hanging directly above it. An entertainment center took up most of the wall to the right of the couch.

  Emily returned with a towel over her shoulder, carrying a water bottle. “Stella’s on her way. She’s fixing her hair.”

  “We really didn’t mean to be an imposition,” Bohannon said.

  Emily waved a hand at him. “My sister is a bit of an obsessive-compulsive type, especially since the accident. She’d fix her hair before coming out whether you were here or not. It’s just one of the things she does.” She pointed to the coffee table. “Watch, when she comes in here. She’ll straighten up the coffee table before she takes her seat.”

  “What accident are you referring to?” Bohannon asked.

  “She was on that flight that went into the river a couple months ago. She’s been a lot more jittery, and attached to her routines and rituals since then. It looked like she was working through it, but then she had that episode in the kitchen the other day.”

  Another blonde stepped into the room, this one rail-thin but with features so similar to Emily, it was clear they were related. “It was not an episode, Em,” she said. “You make it sound like I had some kind of breakdown or something. Jamie was right there when it happened. He saw the whole thing.”

  Stella Reese turned toward the couch and smiled tightly, as if she had just flipped a switch. She extended her hand to Bohannon stiffly, shook, nodded toward Mara, and then bent down and rearranged the items on the coffee table. It was almost robotic, which made Mara think of Cam. He was never that stiff, as least as far as she could tell from carrying around his head.

  “Is Jamie your husband?” Bohannon asked.

  Stella nodded and said, “Yes.” She placed the books in three even stacks, smoothed the stones in the bowl and lined up each of the five remotes in sequence by size. She went back to the bowl of colorful rocks and moved a couple around, then straightened. Visibly relaxing, she exhaled and took one of the armchairs across the room. “He’s at work right now, but he was home Tuesday evening when the incident occurred. That is what you wanted to talk about, isn’t it, Detective?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Stella turned to her sister and said, “Emily, it will be okay for you to go back to your treadmill while I talk to the detective.”

  Emily cocked her head doubtfully. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely,” Stella said.

  Shrugging, Emily smiled at Bohannon and Mara, and left the room.

  As Emily exited, Stella watched her. Leaning forward, she whispered, “My sister thinks I’m crazy, and I’m starting to think she’s right, but the last thing I want to do is give her enough ammunition to have me committed to the funny farm.”

  “Why would she want to do that?” Bohannon asked.

  “Before my flight decided to take a dive into the Columbia River, I had pretty much gotten a grip on my OCD—at least we all thought so. After the accident I had delusions about all the people around me, like everyone had been replaced with an exact duplicate, a body-snatchers kind of fantasy. Not something I’ve ever experienced before. My therapist thought the trauma of the crash had caused me to have some kind of psychotic break, and, for a few weeks, she prescribed some powerful antidepressants, but they were just making things worse.”

  Mara raised an eyebrow at Bohannon, who caught the expression but simply turned back to Stella.

  “The crazy thoughts never went away, but I quit taking the meds. Somehow I figured out a way to compartmentalize all that stuff, to ignore it, by focusing on my impulses.”

  Bohannon said, “I appreciate the strain you’ve been under, Mrs. Reese, but it’s not necessary to tell us all this personal—”

  “Oh, but it is necessary. Before we discuss what happened in the kitchen the other night, I need you to understand that, while I do have a chemical imbalance, I am not crazy. If you’re just going to write off anything I have to say, you might as well not waste your time talking to me.”

  Bohannon was about to respond, but Mara leaned forward and said, “Stella, is it okay if I call you Stella?” Mara asked.

  “Of course,” she said. Her brow furrowed.
“Exactly who are you? You’re not a cop.”

  “I’m Mara Lantern. I guess you could say I’m consulting with Detective Bohannon on some of the cases related to the crash of Flight 559. You see, I was a passenger on that flight, and, believe me, we don’t think you are crazy,” she said.

  Stella looked confused. “I’m not sure I understand. Are you saying that there’s a connection between what happened on the plane and what happened in my kitchen a couple days ago?”

  “Possibly, but let’s discuss what happened to you since the crash. You’ve been having these delusions about everyone in your life being replaced, body-snatched. People look the same to you, but there are subtle differences, right? Sometimes they say or do things that seem completely nonsensical. Or sometimes you say or do things that are completely odd to them. Is that correct?”

  “Exactly, exactly! How do you know this?” Stella asked.

  “You see, the people around you haven’t been switched out with different versions. You have.”

  Stella raised her hand to her chest. “I’m sorry? I’ve been body-snatched?”

  “Not exactly. During the crash, there was a metaphysical event of sorts that caused the passengers of the plane in this version of reality to be switched with their counterparts in other realities. The people around you weren’t switched—you were. When you got on that jet, you were in one realm. But, after it crashed, you had been transplanted into this one.”

  “And my doppelgänger is now in my realm?”

  “No. Unfortunately the original passengers from this realm died in the accident. Their bodies were recovered, but government investigators never released that information because they couldn’t explain how they could have a survivor and a corpse for each passenger on the flight.”

  “They hushed up the whole thing.”

  “Exactly.

  “So I really am not crazy after all.” A look of wonder passed over her face, and she broke into a smile. “That is such a relief. Thank you so much for explaining everything to me. You have no idea how disoriented I have been since the accident. It’s like a veil has been lifted from my mind.”

  “Glad we could help,” Mara said. She waited for a few moments to let Stella get a grip on her new perspective and then said, “When you’re ready, we’d still like to discuss what happened in your kitchen Tuesday night.”

  “Of course, of course. It’ll be a lot easier to talk about it now that I know I’m talking to people who understand where I’m coming from.” She chuckled. “Literally you know where I’m coming from, ha!”

  For a moment Mara was concerned that a crazed giddiness was about to overcome the woman, but she seemed to calm down after a few minutes. Mara nodded toward Bohannon.

  Out of habit the detective looked down at his notepad, then said, “About the events of Tuesday evening that you reported to the local police department, you said there was a phenomenon that appeared in your kitchen.”

  Stella nodded eagerly. “Yes. It started out as this strange blue jagged line dancing in the middle of the air. I was sitting at the bar in the kitchen, talking to my husband, while he chopped vegetables for a salad. He loves chopping veggies for some reason, so he almost always makes the salads for our meals. Anyway this random spark of electricity appeared from nowhere and got larger, taller actually. It was oriented vertically.”

  “What was the source of this electricity?” Bohannon asked. “A light fixture or an appliance?”

  “There was nothing close to it. It appeared in the center of the kitchen halfway between where I sat and where Jamie stood at the counter. When it started, it wasn’t near any of the light fixtures or any of the outlets over the counters where the appliances are.”

  “When it started?”

  “When it first appeared, it was small, hardly noticeable, but it grew larger and then it split open into this large black hole. It looked as if someone had torn a hole into the middle of the room. After that, it got really very strange, which is why I didn’t want my sister to stay while we talked. She’d definitely think I was nuts.”

  Mara interjected, “Don’t worry. We’ve encountered all kinds of strange occurrences during our interactions with passengers from the flight. It’s unlikely anything you say could be any stranger than what we’ve already heard.”

  Stella turned to look at Mara. “So, are you from a different—what did you call it?—realm? Were you switched out with another version of yourself?”

  Mara shook her head. “Actually I was the only original passenger who wasn’t switched. My counterpart was killed during the accident instead of me, but, whatever you say, we aren’t going to think you’re crazy. After the things we’ve seen, we won’t be questioning your sanity.”

  Stella eyes narrowed, and she looked like she was considering something.

  “What?” Mara asked.

  “These other people you’ve encountered from the flight, the other passengers who have crossed over, do any of them have any characteristics that you would regard as strange?”

  Mara glanced at Bohannon and then back to Stella. “What do you mean by strange?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe they can do things that seem normal to them but strange to the people in this realm.”

  Mara arched an eyebrow at her. “I guess it would be fair to say that some of the passengers crossed over with unique abilities that would seem almost supernatural to those of us from here. A few of them have what you might consider interesting hereditary traits as well.”

  “Really? Like what?”

  “I know a man who explodes into a cloud of dust when he gets threatened. Another man can heal with a touch, and his wife can read people’s souls. One man turned into a lizard and another into an insect.” Mara paused for effect and then asked, “Does that sound crazy enough for you?”

  Stella looked at Bohannon, wide-eyed. He nodded to her.

  Mara leaned forward. “Stella, why do you ask?”

  “There’s this thing I can do, that’s no big deal where I come from. It’s how people share information and experiences, but it seems completely foreign to people here. I almost gave my husband a coronary shortly after the jet crash doing this thing.”

  “I’m not following you. What exactly is this ability you have?” Mara said, wanting to cut to the chase.

  “People from my realm can exchange memories. I can show you exactly what happened in the kitchen the other night, if you like,” Stella said.

  CHAPTER 44

  Mara felt her pulse quicken as the haiku popped into her head: Forget all the fears preventing you from learning. Exchange memories. She also remembered Melanie Proctor reading her psyche and, disconcerting as that was, how she had felt as if her deepest, darkest secrets were laid bare for the world to pick at. Already shaking her head without realizing it, Stella interrupted Mara’s train of thought.

  “There is nothing to be afraid of,” Stella said. “All you have to do is hold a stone in the palm of your hand and close your eyes. My memory will come to you. You’ll be able to recall it, as if it were your own experience.”

  Mara held up her hands, as if she were warding off an attacker. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Reese. I’m a little skittish subjecting myself to these abilities from other realms. The thought of sharing memories with a complete stranger is something that I find very disconcerting. I hope you understand it is nothing personal.”

  “It’s customary to exchange memories, but it’s not required. I can share an experience with you, and you can simply keep the stone. I promise not to touch it, and your memories will remain your own,” Stella said.

  Grimacing, Mara looked over to Bohannon, who shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. I would prefer not to do it myself.” He looked to Stella and said, “Can’t you just tell us what happened without this mind-thing?”

  “Of course. I just thought it would be more helpful if you could actually see the whole thing, especially when the blonde girl emerged from the black hole and made me evaporat
e.”

  Mara tensed and straightened on the couch. “Blonde girl? What blonde girl? No one mentioned a blonde girl in the report we received.”

  “Once I recounted what happened to the police officer, I could see from his demeanor and expression that he thought I was a complete loon, so I cut short my story and let him be on his way. My husband warned me that no one would believe us and didn’t want to call the authorities, but I just felt we had an obligation to report something that strange and potentially dangerous,” Stella said.

  “Yes, but what about the blonde girl? What does she have to do with anything?” Mara asked.

  “Like I said, at first, there was just this jagged line of electricity dancing in the air that grew larger, and then it sort of split open, tearing a big hole into the middle of the room. For a short time, the blue electricity danced along the edges of the hole as it grew. Then it exploded into this static sheath around the hole.”

  “It looked like a bubble made of blue light or energy?” Mara asked.

  “Yes! Exactly!” Stella said.

  “And then what happened?”

  “That’s when the blonde girl stepped from the black tear at the center of the bubble.”

  Mara gritted her teeth and took a deep breath. “This memory swapping thing you do, it will let me see this person and what happened to you the other night?”

  “It will be more like a memory, not a vision. It won’t feel like a hallucination or anything like that. It’s perfectly safe. I promise. It only upset my husband because I failed to warn him about what was going to happen. I assumed he knew at the time.”

  “Okay,” Mara said. “What do I need to do?”

  Stella smiled and said, “Just sit quiet for a minute, and let me get my wits about me.”

  She sank back into her chair and closed her eyes. After a moment she cupped her left hand in front of her and closed her right hand over it. Mara glanced over to Bohannon, who stared intently at the woman across the room. When his eyes widened suddenly, Mara looked back at Stella. Something glowed from between her fingers. As the light intensified, it appeared to pass through the woman’s hands, making her flesh translucent but not the bones. Between the skeletal fingers, Mara could see a tiny mass undulating formlessly.