Whisper Lake (The Turning Book 2)

by Micky Neilson

  As he swung around the main building to the yard he spotted headlights between the piles of junk. Every kind of vehicle, and pieces of every kind of vehicle, were all stacked and loosely organized in long rows that created wide aisles. The sheriff's cruiser was waiting at the end of one of these. CJ hadn't known if the old lawman would get here first, but he wasn't surprised to see that he had.

  Okay, let's go through this again. What I'm going to tell him is—ah great now I gotta take a shit. Why now? Come on! CJ's stomach was twisting as he pulled up, leaving a good amount of room between his box truck and the cop car. He left the engine idling with headlights on, and as he stepped out of the cab, he was blinded by Sheriff Barclay's spotlight.

  CJ squinted, raised his hands and said "I'm alone."

  The sheriff tilted his spotlight away just a bit and stepped into the glare of crossed headlights.

  CJ tried to remember what he'd rehearsed. "I—I thought about what you said," he began, trying to keep his voice even. He lowered his hands. "I wanna cooperate."

  The sheriff had his gun out, but not pointed at CJ. He took another step forward. "Why was the gate open?" he asked.

  "Carl, he owes me, cause I pick up his favorite porn tapes when I make runs to Portland. Asian broads, mostly." CJ would have prided himself on being clever, except this little tidbit was actually true.

  Old man Barclay's features were lost in the shadows of his face. "What can you tell me about the new kid?"

  "Not much," CJ answered, and stopped. Suddenly, he couldn't remember what he was supposed to say. His guts clenched like a fist. "Well?" the sheriff asked. Connections! Shit, that's it, connections. "Boss wanted him because of some connections he's got. Boil's looking to expand, you know, reach new markets."

  "Really?"

  CJ's belly rumbled. He spoke up quickly. "He's bringing in way more product, too. Gonna store it off-site somewhere. I'll find out." Fuck! Idiot! You shouldn't have just blurted it out like that.

  The old law dog was silent.

  He is so onto you…

  "When?" The sheriff asked.

  Is he really going for it? Fuck I hope so. "Soon," CJ replied. "Like in the next week. You'll know when I know." Something was on the verge of exiting CJ's ass, and he didn't know if it was a fart or something with a little more substance. He suspected if he tried to let a silent one slip he'd shit his pants.

  "Look, I gotta go, okay?"

  CJ hurried back to the cab, not waiting for an answer. Once behind the wheel, he clenched his ass cheeks, spun the truck around, and left Sheriff Barclay standing in his own headlights.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Mother Moon was full and bright, casting a silver sheen over dark water.

  There was a snuffling sound. The massive beast's scent carried across the lake's glittering surface on a soft breeze. The moon had barely risen above the jagged mountain peaks when the animal had chosen to hide in the murk. Her brothers and sisters had long since moved on, but she alone had remained, waiting patiently at the forest's edge. She waited for the moment that now arrived, as the lumbering creature made its way back up onto the shore.

  It moved slowly, cautiously, toward the treeline. Now.

  In an instant she bounded from cover, racing to a spot behind the beast, between it and the sheltering water. She emitted a long call, a message to the others. The animal's head swiveled from side to side; rustling noises broke from the timber. The leader was first to appear—the mighty gray. His muscles rippled as he stalked forward, teeth bared. One by one, the rest of the pack emerged from the gloomy wood.

  The plump creature mewled, circled, retreated once again toward the lake. Toward her. Good. As the pack closed in—

  Celine awoke to the sound of her alarm clock.

  She crawled out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom, remembering the dream in bits and pieces, recalling most of all how it had made her feel: powerful. Vital, and… alive.

  For the past several days, that word perfectly described her state of being. Her dream recollections made her realize something: she felt, for the first time ever, an overwhelming sense that she was part of something greater, both in her dreams and in her waking life.

  Her work at the sheriff's station wasn't particularly challenging, but it didn't need to be. Everything she was doing: filing papers, fulfilling requests, doing data on traffic tickets, hell even fetching coffee… it all genuinely felt like it made a difference. She felt like she was making a difference. That she accomplished more while working here than she had accomplished in her entire life. There had never been a time that she could remember when she actually looked forward to going to work. She hadn't learned much about Boil's operation, or what the police knew of it, yet. She had spent the first few days just getting her bearings.

  Lieutenant Embury was nice. The deputy sheriff, Jake Trumbull, hadn't said much to Celine but that suited her just fine. Ty not only treated her with the utmost respect, but on multiple occasions he had taken time to sit down with her and talk, at first, mostly about Jason, and his disappearance. Posters had gone up around town. A hotline had been set up. When the first couple of days hadn't yielded any results, Ty said that he was confident CID would find him or that he would turn up. After that, when they sat down to talk, sometimes they didn't discuss much of anything. It was almost like he was catching up with an old friend he hadn't seen in a long while. Hell, he had even kicked in some cash for Celine to get a new soft top for the Jeep, saying that the least he could do was protect her from the elements.

  The only thing that seemed off, and it was very minor, was that Celine suspected there was something related to the ski mask assaults that Ty wasn't telling her. There were a couple times when the sheriff acted as if he was on the verge of… something. Either asking her something or telling her something; she wasn't sure which. But each time he had either ended the conversation or moved on to more small talk.

  Celine had just finished brushing her teeth when her Mom opened the door. "You want some coffee?"

  "No thanks Mom, I'll get some at work."

  "What is it today?" Lucie asked.

  "The Wayside. Sheriff's place again tomorrow," Celine answered as she started the shower water.

  "I'll never keep track," Lucie protested.

  "Can't you just be happy for me?"

  Lucie turned away. "Someone's at the door, she said."

  Celine shut off the water and walked out, still in her pajamas. Her Mom was saying "just a second" to somebody. When Celine reached the door she saw Kyra on the porch, hands stuffed into the pockets of her coat, her large brown eyes red and swollen and face flushed. "I need to talk," she said.

  After Celine threw on a jacket she joined her friend in the brisk morning air in front of the trailer. Kyra was halfway through a cigarette before she was ready to start, but when she finally did, there weren't any words wasted.

  "I'm pregnant," she said.

  Celine's eyebrows shot up. "Oh shit."

  "Yeah."

  "How long?" Celine asked.

  "Few weeks."

  "Does Colin—"

  "Connor," Kyra corrected.

  "Right. Does he know?"

  "Yeah," Kyra answered.

  Celine tilted her head forward. "And?"

  Kyra finished her cigarette, stomped it into the dirt, and lit up another one. Celine wasn't smoking. In fact, she hadn't craved cigarettes for the past few days.

  "I've almost got my BA," Kyra replied finally. "I've got so many plans, I'm just getting started." For as long as Celine could remember, her friend had loved politics. Celine herself couldn't give a shit, but she always admired that Kyra was really doing something with her life. "When things were good with Connor, we talked about having kids. Later. But I think me and him are done and I can't… I can't get sidelined right now," Kyra finished. "I've been working on this for years…"

  Celine nodded and put her hand on Kyra's shoulder.

  Kyra continued: "Look I know it's a shitt
y thing to bring up but I know you've been through, you know…"

  "An abortion?"

  Tears glistened in Kyra's eyes. She took the cigarette out of her mouth and blew smoke. Wrinkles formed under her bottom lip as she nodded. Celine took a deep breath. "I won't lie," she said. "It's something that'll stick with you for the rest of your life, but…" she hesitated, searching for exactly what she wanted to say. "All I know is that it was the right choice for me at the time. I can't say what you should or shouldn't do, just that you gotta make the right choice for yourself. That, and whatever you decide, you have my support."

  Kyra nodded, struggling to hold back tears. Celine stepped up and wrapped her friend in a tight hug.

  ***

  Old Joseph Speaker had built the Estelle Speaker Library in his wife's honor during Whisper Lake's heyday. He had planned to build a hospital as well, but the collapse of Oregon logging derailed those ambitions.

  Jason now sat at the back of the library, a stack of books to his right on the tabletop, and to his left a pile of notes jotted down on the pad of paper Celine had brought for him. He had written everything he remembered from his dreams, or nightmares, or messages:

  Serrano holding a kind of glassy hunk, saying "They found something. Out there in the desert. Something old. From a time before history."

  And saying later: "The Far Reaching One is bound by the Lady of Sorrow."

  He had written more snippets as well, from his other visions:

  "The Goddess of Goddesses, the Bestower of Strength."

  "She requires tribute."

  "Blood is life."

  "Blood is the divine essence."

  He had taken these notes and searched for any books that might shed some kind of light. Using specific phrases like "From a time before history" and "Goddess of Goddesses," as his guides he focused his research on mythology, religion, and paganism.

  It had been a long walk to the library—though he didn't get tired or sore—and spending the entire afternoon here was of course a big risk, considering that the CID would be looking for him and there were posters around town. But he had been careful not to interact with anyone, and he kept the hood of his jacket up. After hours of turning up nothing, he finally uncovered a piece to the puzzle.

  At least some answers seemed to sit with the Babylonian deity Ishtar, who in most texts was interchangeable with the Sumerian goddess Inanna. Among her titles Jason found both "Goddess of Goddesses" and "Bestower of Strength" as well as "Lady of Sorrow." Ishtar was a goddess of sexual love, fertility, and war. Accounts of her persona varied from Cunning Manipulator to Merciless Warrior, with the only real consistency being her insatiable lust. In one myth she descended to, and returned from, the underworld. In the Epic of Gilgamesh, a story describing the adventures of a Mesopotamian king, the hero accused Ishtar of betraying and murdering her lovers.

  So what did any of this really mean? Had a Babylonian goddess actually communicated with Jason? The titles and much of what was written about her seemed to line up with some of his dream visions, but Ishtar's planetary aspect was Venus. Her "attribute animal" was the lion. So where did the moon come in, and most especially, how was the wolf involved? Perhaps those answers could be found with the "Far-Reaching One."

  Jason looked to the clock above the main doorway. Five minutes until closing time, the "Far-Reaching One" would have to wait until tomorrow. It wasn't like he could check the book out. For now, he stood and moved to the row of shelves just to the right of the front doors and began replacing his reading material. The doors opened and he heard a familiar sound, the cooing of his sister. He peeked over a row of books and through the sliver of space saw his mom wheel in Trish.

  Moving down the aisle, Jason followed and continued watching through the space above the row of books as Beth proceeded to the librarian's desk, where she parked Trish and began rooting around in her large purse. She pulled out two VHS movies: Cousins and Beaches. Of course. Even as a teen Jason had never used the library's VHS check-out because their selection, for the most part, sucked. But mom used the service frequently.

  The Librarian commented to Beth: "I was so sorry to hear about your son. I'm sure that he'll turn up safe and sound. I pray so, anyway."

  Without a word Beth dropped the VHS tapes on the desk. Does she even give a shit? Jason sighed and moved back up the aisle to finish putting away his books. He heard Beth wheel Trish back toward the front door, then heard the wheelchair stop. He peeked through the space once again. Beth was there, her knuckles white on the wheelchair handles, her head bowed. The only movement was a soft up and down motion of her shoulders. Was she crying? She didn't cry, except…

  Jason thought about the movies. Cousins and Beaches… movies that always made her cry. He had always thought it odd that she would cry for some stupid movie but not about the things that were important. But now the realization hit him full-force: she always watched those movies when bad shit happened. Crying at the movies was some kind of coping mechanism for her. She always had to appear unshakeable, a rock. Seeing that rock crumbling right before his eyes carved a hole in Jason's soul.

  Suddenly he wanted to run out from behind the bookshelf and hug her, let her know that he was safe and that everything was okay. But he couldn't do that, not yet anyway. Beth wiped at her eyes as Trish made noises that basically amounted to "let's go already."

  Beth pushed the chair through the doors and out of sight.

  ***

  The sheriff's station was quiet – Lieutenant Embury had called in sick, Deputy Sheriff Trumbull was doing whatever he did on his days off, and Ty was out following up with Mattie Hearn who was now able to speak. The station used a dispatch service, so there was no dispatcher on duty.

  Yesterday had been a long day. Celine had spent most of it worrying about Kyra. After getting off work, she had called her friend and left a message, then driven out to see Jason. Aside from her concern for Kyra, Celine had felt great. Upon seeing Jason she had gotten horny; hornier than she had been in quite a while. Just looking at him, however, she could tell that he was down. He told her about his studies at the library, and about observing his mother's moment of raw emotion, something Celine had to admit was surprising. Jason wondered if he had misunderstood and mistreated Bethany all these years. Celine had done her best to console him, but there was still a great deal of mending to be done, and some things that ultimately Jason and Bethany were going to have to handle with each other.

  For her part, Celine wanted to make the most of her time at the station. She had spent most of the morning filing, and had come across a vehicle description of a light colored Ford Fiesta. It was from a VHS tape taken the night of the medical clinic fire. That was all well and good, but what Celine really wanted was all the information she could find on Boil and CJ. She had just begun looking at the labels on the various file boxes when Ty's voice startled her:

  "Something I been meaning to ask you," he said.

  "Oh hey, how'd it go? I was just—"

  The sheriff held up a hand to silence her, then motioned for Celine to follow.

  They sat down at his desk. Ty cleared his throat, and locked his eyes on hers for a long moment. His expression was one of concern. "What I need to talk to you about is… sensitive," he began. "And with Jason's disappearance I didn't want to pile something else on top…" Celine waited. Was the sheriff finally going to spill whatever he'd been holding back?

  "But this is important. Like I told you, I think the clinic fire and the ski-mask assaults are connected. But there's more. I think whoever's doing this is acting out against something specific…"

  The old guy actually appeared uncomfortable as he finally worked his way around to saying the word: "Abortion."

  Ty waited a minute, watching her reaction.

  Abortion?

  "Mattie Hearn had undergone an abortion," the sheriff continued. "Doc Keen had been threatened prior to the clinic fire, and there are two cases in Salem that seem to match the motive and
the M.O. of our attacker." Ty leaned forward and spoke in a low, soft voice. "So I'm going to ask you something and if it makes you uncomfortable you just say so, okay?"

  "Yeah," Celine said, frowning.

  "Did you have an abortion recently? Could that be why you were attacked?"

  Not recently, but… Celine's mind raced back to the night of the attack, and before, to the night that started it all, as far as she knew: "The night… CJ's truck got dunked in the lake—" she had almost said "the night I dunked CJ's truck in the lake" but stopped herself "—Me and him had argued. He brought up an abortion I had back in high school, and he called me a baby killer." Celine's blood boiled. "See? I knew it! I fucking knew it was him!" Her entire body went rigid as her hands balled into fists.

  Ty shook his head. "I don't think it is."

  Celine got louder. "How can you still say that?"

  "The car that was caught on tape—"

  "I know about the car," Celine blurted. "Even he's not stupid enough to drive his fucking box truck for something like that."

  "He drove it the night he slashed your tires," the sheriff countered.

  "If he's crazy enough to—" she began, and stopped as a horrific realization hit her. Kyra.

  She snatched up the receiver of Ty's phone. The sheriff looked puzzled as she spun the base around and punched Kyra's number. The other end rang. Ty continued staring, hands out, palms up in a "what are you doing" gesture. On the third ring Kyra picked up. "Hello?"

  "Thank God. It's me, are you okay?" Celine asked.

  "What? Yeah."

  "Did you do it? What we talked about yesterday?"

  There was silence for a moment, then Kyra answered. "Yeah. I did it after we talked."

  "Okay," Celine answered. "I'm at the station right now, but when I'm done here I'm coming right over and I'll tell you what's going on. In the meantime…"

  Celine met the sheriff's gaze; his expression was now beginning to show understanding. "Don't leave the house."

  CHAPTER NINETEEN