seventeen
The Shadowmist Police Department was located on the corner of Bergen Street and Summit Avenue. I had to take the bus to Bergen then walk two blocks to Summit Avenue. I approached the brown brick building and looked up; it had two floors. I learned from my internet search that the first floor served as a place to accommodate police officers, detectives, and other personnel staff. The Chief of Police office was also on the bottom level as well as the interrogation rooms. Upstairs on the second floor were the booking room and holding cells where prisoners of minor offenses were jailed.
I pulled open the tinted glass doors and stepped into the police station. I hesitated just inside the entrance and looked around. The walls were a beige color and the floors were light gray. There were two rows of desks in the front open area of the room and I saw several deputies pouring over files that were scattered on the desks. I recognized one of the police officers sitting at the desk closest to the front doors.
“Hello, can I help you,” he asked. It was the same young police officer I had seen the day I came across the crime scene at the Fashion Flower Boutique.
“I’m looking for Detective Zaffino,” I said as memories from that day came rushing back. I hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to revisit the events of that day. I pushed back tears as he led me past the desks and then down a corridor to a set of four offices.
The name on the second door on the right read DETECTIVE CHRIS ZAFFINO. The policeman rapped his knuckles on the open door to get Detective Zaffino’s attention.
“Analey Rose. Please come in,” Detective Zaffino said in his husky voice. “Have a seat.”
I stepped into the office and took a seat in the chair across from the desk from where he sat.
“Thank you, Officer Bolten, and please close the door,” Zaffino said to the officer.
I sat ram rod straight in the chair, wanting to get the meeting over with as quickly as possible. Detective Zaffino sat across from me not saying anything, just watching me.
“Sir, what is this about?” I asked finding the nerve to start talking.
“Miss Rose, thank you for meeting me,” he said.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I didn’t feel as if I’d had a choice, but whatever you need to find the person or thing that killed my friend.” My voice trembled, but I couldn’t be sure if I was nervous or scared.
Detective Zaffino narrowed his eyes on mine. “What can you tell me about Heath Gibbs?” he asked.
“He was my friend at the orphanage,” I said.
“At Havencrest,” he said.
“Yes,” I replied.
“I see,” he muttered, writing something down on his notepad. “Go on.”
“He lived there until the day he was adopted,” I said.
“By whom?” he asked.
“I don’t know. He wasn’t with them very long,” I said. “He was taken from their home after he set fire to the house.”
“Ah, yes. The arson incident,” Detective Zaffino said. “But he wasn’t charged, was he?”
I wanted to ask what Heath had to do with Candice’s murder or accident, but I just answered his questions instead. “No, the couple didn’t press charges and they let him go when he turned 18.”
Detective Zaffino continued jotting down notes in his pad before looking up and locking his eyes on mine. “Were you aware Miss Rose that he was the last person to see Candice Garrett alive the night she was attacked.”
“No sir. I did not.” I said. I did have a vague déjà vu kind of memory of them having drinks, but I didn’t mention it.
“And do you know where I can find Mr. Gibbs now?” he asked.
I shook my head. I hadn’t seen or talked to Heath in a while. “What does he have to do with any of this?” I asked. “She was attacked by a bear; you told me, and the news reported it.”
“Analey, Miss Garrett’s body is missing.” Detective Zaffino rested his arms on the desk and leaned forward.
“What do you mean missing?” I asked, leaning back. “Who would do that?” I suddenly felt like I was going to be sick.
“Her body disappeared from the morgue two days after it had arrived,” Detective Zaffino said, his tone accusing. “Dead bodies don’t walk out of the morgue, so if there is something you’re not telling me, I strongly advise you to start talking.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “There was a coffin and a funeral.” Tears began spilling down my cheeks.
“They buried an empty box so as not to alert the media or cause alarm with the citizens of Shadowmist,” he said.
“I don’t know anything,” I sobbed.
“Fine but call me if you do remember anything or if Mr. Gibbs gets in contact with you,” he said handing me a business card with his name and phone number. “Don’t talk to anyone about this. Especially Heath Gibbs,” Detective Zaffino warned me.
He lifted his hand to motion that I was free to go. I felt glued to the chair but finally found the strength to get up. I walked out of the office and out of the police station without saying a word to anyone on my way out. But before I made it to the first block, I pulled my cell phone out and called Heath. I had to warn him that the police were looking for him.
“Hello, Analey.” Heath picked up on the first ring.
“Heath, I need to ask you about Candice. The police think you know something about her attack.” I blurted the words out and waited for him to reply. “And her body is missing from the morgue.”
After several seconds of silence, Heath responded. “I will take care of the missing body and quiet their questions,” he said in a flat voice.
“What happened to her body?” I breathed the words out slowly.
“Analey, this town isn’t what it seems. I will explain everything to you later. Take care,” he said and ended the call.
But it would be several months later before anyone would explain what or who had attacked Candice. Where her body had gone, would remain a mystery.
Two weeks later, Stella had moved to Shadowmist and a couple of weeks after that, I was moving in with her. Kami offered to help me pack and drive me to my aunt’s house.
“Do you think it’s a good idea for you to be moving in with someone you’ve just met?” Kami asked as we packed up my things at my apartment.
“She’s my mother’s aunt, not a total stranger,” I said looking up from the box I had been taping shut.
“Maybe, but you just met her a month ago.”
“Yes, but she has been keeping up with me, calling and messaging me almost every day since the day we met in Havencrest.”
Kami shook her head; it wasn’t enough for her. I saw the same distrust in her eyes that I had seen in Kian’s the first time he saw Stella. I was grateful for their concern, but I didn’t appreciate them judging her before getting to know her. I finished packing the few things I owned, and with Kami’s help, loaded them into her car. I didn’t like fighting with my best friend, but she was being unreasonable. I didn’t say anything to her until we reached the house with gray siding where Stella was waiting for me.
“Analey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad. I’m just looking out for you,” Kami said as I stepped out of her car carrying my bag and a box out.
“I know, and I appreciate it, but this is my choice and it’s what I want.”
“I understand. I’ll call you later,” she said.
“Do you want to come in and meet her?” I asked, putting the box down on the ground and adjusting the bag strap on my shoulder.
“No, I have to get back home. I’m meeting Kian for dinner.”
“Sure. Thanks for everything. Tell Kian hello for me,” I said. I picked up the box and watched as she drove away. I turned back towards the house and Stella had walked out onto the porch. Neatly trimmed bushes grew around the front of the two-story house and flower beds decorated the landscaped lawn.
Stella met me in the driveway and handed me a set of keys. “Here is your copy of the house key.”
>
I looked at the brass key in my hand and noticed there was another key on the ring. I held it up and raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t have to worry about asking your friends for a ride anymore,” she said pointing to a white car parked next to a black SUV in the driveway.
“You really didn’t have to do that,” I protested.
“It’s not a big deal. I’ve had it for a couple of years now and decided it was time for a new one,” she assured me.
I had the feeling I wouldn’t win this argument, so I thanked her and accepted the gift. We walked up the few steps leading to the porch, which was adorned with patio furniture in one corner and a small white swing built for two on the opposite side. Stella opened the front door, carrying my box and holding the glass door for me. I stepped into the living room; the faint scent of fresh blossoms filled the air. The polished hardwood floors remained silent as we walked over them. They didn’t make the moaning sounds I had been accustomed to hearing at my apartment. I looked from the gray and teal rug, that designated the area for the couch and matching loveseat, to the natural stone fireplace where a flat screen television had been secured to the white mantel. The room, though comfortable, appeared cold and not lived in. Stella led me past the spotless kitchen, there was an island with a white base and granite countertop separating it from the living room. From the kitchen we walked to the breakfast table that sat next to the window looking out to the lush green backyard.
“My bedroom is down that hall. You can pick from one of the two upstairs,” Stella said as she gave me the tour of the rest of the house. The first room we came to, had blue walls, a double bed flanked by two white nightstands, and a corresponding white dresser.
“You like this one?” Stella asked.
“Yes. Is this furniture new?” I asked.
“It’s from my previous house. I had it delivered when I moved in.”
Stepping further into the room I sensed she wasn’t being completely honest with me. The room appeared staged, as if she had brand new furniture delivered just moments before I had arrived at the house. The thick blue bed spread felt stiff under my fingertips as I brushed my hand over it. The only part of the room that bore any resemblance to have not been bought the day before, was a white wool throw. It was draped over the footboard of the bed. I reached out to pick it up, but the familiar anxiety that came over me when I first attempted to touch the metal railing made me hesitate. I reached for it again, rubbing the frayed ends between my thumb and index finger. The woven threads were soft and silky. When the room began to spin, I waited for what would happen next. I would be transported into someone else’s memory as I had with Mrs. Walsh. Before the vision came into focus, I heard Stella calling my name from the doorway. I dropped the blanket and the hallucination evaporated leaving me dizzy and nauseous.
“I was going to make some tea. Would you like some?” Stella asked eyeing the white throw.
“Yes.” I nodded, hoping it would help settle my upset stomach. I followed Stella down the stairs to the kitchen.
Sitting across the table from Stella, I tasted the tea. The queasy feeling faded as did the presentiment that almost came from touching the, the----I was unable to finish my last thought.
“Analey, are you okay?” Stella asked.
“Yes, I think I’m just tired. My history professor has been loading us up with homework.”
“I’m pretty versed in history. I can help if you need it,” she said smiling before sipping tea from her white mug.
“Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.” I wrapped my hands around the mug enjoying the warmth of the tea. It had an earthy, sweet flavor and not one I had tasted before.
“How’s the tea? Not too hot or strong?” Stella asked.
“No, it’s good. What is it?” I asked, taking another sip.
“Chamomile with a dash of lemongrass and a drop of honey. It’s good for encouraging peace and relaxation. I thought it might help with any anxiety you may be having about moving in to a new place,” Stella said.
I suddenly felt uneasy about drinking the tea. I thought maybe it was just the nausea returning, but it was something else. I looked at the cup then at Stella. She was looking out the window to the backyard. The sky was a salmon color as the sun was making its way down behind the horizon. I took another sip and the instinct to stop was stronger. I put the cup down and chose to heed the cautionary intuition.
“I think I will go upstairs and unpack my things,” I said as I stood up taking the cup of tea with me. “Thanks for the tea.” I rinsed the mug and placed it in the dishwasher.
“I have an errand to run, but I will be back soon,” Stella said. She did as I did with her mug then headed out the door. I heard her car start and drive off as I started up the stairs to my room. After unpacking the box I had brought from my apartment and hanging my clothes in the closet, I showered and climbed into bed. I was more tired than I felt and soon was sleeping, not dreaming of anything or anyone.
eighteen
The Autumn wind was blowing in, cooling the air. The leaves were just beginning the romantic end of their life as they took to the air in an elegant dance. I looked out the window, watching as Stella’s white car backed out of the driveway. I hadn’t noticed what time she had returned last night but now she was off to work, I assumed. A blanket of dense fog hung over the yard, swooping around the trees and shrubs. The faint sunlight forced its way through the mist, casting an unusual shadow on the ground. The fog laboriously climbed the weathered wooden fence, stretching its long tendrils up and over the pickets. I moved my gaze from the ground and up over the rooftops of the neighboring houses. As I stared at the charcoal gray shingles, a bird swooped in a downward motion. It fell with a swift dive on the other side of the window panes where I stood. Its abrupt appearance made me flinch and I took a step away from the window. I recognized the raven’s black obsidian feathers from my evanescent phase of bird watching some two or three years ago. The raven that startled me was larger than the average bird I had ever seen. Its black wings shown vividly through the thick mist that enveloped it. I tore my gaze from the window and reached for my shoes. I slipped them on and headed downstairs to the kitchen. I poured a pack of instant oatmeal into a white porcelain bowl and added hot water. Immediately, the brown sugar-scented steam rose. I sat at the table eating my breakfast and contemplating my life over the past few weeks from meeting Stella and now moving in with her. Never in my 18 years did I believe I would be where I was, feeling happy and content.
Only one other person would fully complete my life.
Not today. I told myself as I placed the empty bowl in the dishwasher. Just try to get through one day without thinking about him. I continued my internal monologue.
But I hadn’t seen him again since the day I had sent him running for the hills. That seemed like a lifetime ago. Now that he wasn’t just a figment of my imagination, I felt his absence more and longed to see him again.
After breakfast, I got into my car and made the drive to school. The fog had lifted, and I had clear visibility of the road.
Not today. Not today. Not today. I repeated the mantra in my mind. It worked for a minute or two but as I drove through Shadowmist to the university, my thoughts once again were consumed by him. I didn’t want to think about him. I wanted to forget him but as the day seemed to drag on, my thoughts returned to his warm gaze. I walked into my first class of the day as the faint tug on my heart reiterated to forget him. I had recently started feeling the pressure in my chest anytime he entered my mind. Now it tightened its grip as I dismissed it and concentrated on the lecture.
Mr. Albert was reviewing some of the material that would be on our exam the next week, but my mind was absent from class.
“Miss Rose?” Mr. Albert glared at me from over the top of his glasses. “In what year was the Battle of Trenton fought during the American Revolution?” He repeated the question I had obviously not heard the first time he asked.
I bit m
y bottom lip and glanced around the room. The other students watched me, waiting for my fumbled answer. It was obvious to them, as well as to the professor, that I hadn’t been mentally present in class.
Leah Miller, the spoiled rich girl whose only reason for being at Ocean Mist was to keep an eye on her football hero turned loser boyfriend, rolled her eyes as she whispered something into his ear. Leah was the typical blonde hair, blue eyed beauty that every boy wanted, and every girl wanted to be. Noah Riggins had brown, lady killing eyes under scraggly brown hair. He had been the star quarterback that did get Leah. Noah let out a low chuckle then stopped when more of the students joined in laughing at me.
“Ah hem. The Battle of Trenton was fought on December 26, 1776.” I averted everyone’s gaze as I gave my answer.
“That’s correct, Miss Rose. You may have a seat now.” Mr. Albert said.
Giggles spread though the room as I realized I’d inadvertently rose to my feet to give my answer.
Leah whispered something else to Noah, but he didn’t respond. Instead he met my gaze and held it until Leah nudged his arm. I sat down and buried my flushed face in my hands.
“Alright, that’s enough for today. Don’t forget your battle summaries are due next week.” Mr. Albert announced to the class. I shoved my book in my bag and rushed out the door.
“Hey, where’s the fire Rose?” I heard Noah Riggins call out to me.
I pretended I didn’t hear him and kept walking, but he was not going to be ignored. Noah caught up to me and put his arm over my shoulder.
“You don’t mind me calling you Rose, do you?”
“Do you have something against first names or personal space or manners?” I pushed his arm away and put some distance between us.
“You should come hang out with me and Gibbs sometime,” Noah said shrugging his shoulders.
Edge of Forever: The Death and Life of Analey Rose (The Immortal Souls Book 1) Page 13