Forty-Four Book Thirteen (44 13)

by Jools Sinclair

  “I never had the patience for fishing,” he said. “But lately I’ve been giving it some serious thought. Fly fishing maybe.”

  “I can picture it now. You, wearing waders, with one of those small wicker baskets for the fish you catch like Jeff Bailey at the beginning of Out of the Past.”

  “Go ahead and laugh, Craigers. Go ahead and laugh.”

  I tried not to but I couldn’t help it. And then he laughed, too.

  I laughed till I cried and then I found myself just crying.

  Jesse held my hand.

  “You’re just tired,” he said. “Things will look better in the morning. If not tomorrow morning, one of these mornings real soon. You’ll see.”

  He stood, kissed me, and then faded away again.

  CHAPTER 56

  Jesse came back the next morning and sat next to me. I was on my third cup, hoping the caffeine would balance out the sleepless night.

  “How’s the coffee?” he said.

  “Not bad for Idaho.”

  “It’s weird.”

  “What’s weird?”

  “Well, you know, Idaho is considered part of the Pacific Northwest and the Pacific Northwest is all about coffee, but when you think of Idaho it doesn’t exactly scream coffee.”

  “I’m glad you’re here.”

  I took his hand as a chill came up off the water. We sat there quiet for a while, watching a fish break the surface of the lake.

  “We sure have been through a lot, haven’t we?” I said.

  “Sure have.”

  I leaned back in the lawn chair and let out a long sigh.

  “Still not feelin’ it, huh?”

  “No, not really. It’s just that I thought I’d be happier. I mean, I am that Nathaniel is gone, but now… I can’t help but wonder what the point was. It’s not like he took all the evil in the world with him. It’s still here, so much of it. There’ll always be another Nathaniel Mortimer ready to step up. And another and another, and another after that.”

  “First off, you don’t mean that. There was only one of him. And, sure, there’s still evil out there, but thanks to you a little less of it. Hell, a lot less of it.”

  “I think Samael gets most of the credit for that,” I said. “He did the heavy lifting.”

  “He couldn’t have done it without you,” Jesse said. “You found Mortimer and you wore him down. And you’re the reason he went in the water.”

  “What’s that have to do with anything?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think there was something about being in the water that trapped the good doctor. Maybe it weakened him somehow. It kept him from being able to leave or from jumping into someone else up on the yacht. He was desperate, that’s for sure. Why else would he go after you? You were drowning. Yeah, I think the water was what kept him down there as much as Samael’s bear hug. It was like his Achilles heel or something.”

  I nodded, thinking how Jesse’s theory made as much sense as anything I had come up with.

  He swatted away a mosquito.

  “But why does God allow these things to happen?” It was a question that always haunted me. “Why doesn’t He step in more?”

  “I don’t know. Free will?” Jesse shrugged. “It’s beyond me. I guess there’s a reason they call it the big picture. All I know is that we’re not going to figure it out here on this little lake in Idaho. It’s too much for you to take on right now. Anyway, I don’t think that’s what’s really bothering you.”

  I looked at him and blurted it out.

  “I’m scared.”

  “Scared of what?” Jesse said.

  “Everything looks so black to me right now. I’m scared that I won’t ever see the beauty in this world again. That I’ve changed. That I won’t fit in. That nothing will ever be the same.”

  He shook his head.

  “Just get your sweet ass back home, Craigers. You’re spent, worn out. Give yourself a little time. Get yourself some home cooking. The light will come back. You’ll see.”

  I nodded weakly.

  “Just get home,” he repeated. “I’ll meet you there soon. And when I do, I’ll be strong again and we’ll start that life I was talking about.”

  He kissed me.

  “You remember my dream, right?”

  I gave him a weak smile.

  “Of course I remember.”

  I looked into his eyes and saw it. That sparkle he used to get, when he had a good game or when I scored on him from the penalty spot. Or just before he lost control of the car on that patch of ice when he told me he loved me.

  “Don’t you see? It’s a new beginning for us. After all this, it’s finally our time.”

  I wanted it to be true, to believe him, but all I could do was cry.

  CHAPTER 57

  Jesse was right.

  I needed to go home.

  I packed up and locked the cabin door. I breathed in the mountain air, surprised at how my chest barely hurt anymore. A few more days and I would be able to start running again. That would help.

  I still expected to see Samael waiting for me on the back of the bike. But, of course, he wasn’t there. I would have to get used to that.

  A few hours later I saw the sign.

  It read, “Welcome to Oregon.”

  CHAPTER 58

  When I opened my eyes, I was sure that I was still dreaming.

  My heart pounded against my ribs as I took in slow, deep breaths and glanced around cautiously. I was in my bed, underneath my down comforter, the white curtains that my mom had made all those years ago whipping around in the juniper-scented breeze.

  Emotions swelled up inside as I saw my things. The laptop on the desk, a soccer ball streaked with mud lying in the corner, the old poster of Ronaldinho up on the wall flashing that magical smile, my clothes hanging in the closet.

  It had to be a dream.

  But when I smelled French toast, Kate’s French toast, I knew that I was really home.

  CHAPTER 59

  She turned around and dropped the spatula as she ran toward me at full speed. We stood there frozen in an embrace for a long, long time, crying through our words.

  “Jesus, Abby. I can’t believe it. You’re really home.”

  “I can’t believe it either.”

  I held on tight, soaking her in like sunshine.

  “Are you okay?” Her eyes narrowing, she stepped back and studied me. “You don’t look so…”

  “You should see the other guy. I’m fine. Well, almost fine. I’m on the mend. Should be as good as new in a few more days. It’s so good to see you, Kate, but whatever you do, please don’t burn my breakfast.”

  She laughed and hurried back over to the stove.

  “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “Starving.”

  I pulled out a barstool and sat down at the counter.

  Everything felt so surreal. Sitting in the kitchen with Kate, watching her as she finished cooking, and then piling a plate with her signature dish of cinnamon French toast drenched in maple pecan syrup.

  I took a bite, closed my eyes, and moaned.

  “Oh, wow.”

  Kate sat down next to me with a couple of steaming mugs of coffee, but I didn’t stop eating until I had demolished everything. When I was done, I pushed the plate aside and sat back.

  “More?”

  “No, I better not. That was perfect. And amaz—” Something finally hit my sleepy mind. “Hey, wait a minute. How did you know I was home?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t divulge my sources.”

  “But you weren’t here last night when I got in,” I said. “The house was empty.”

  “I stayed with some friends. I wanted to give you a little space, let you get home and breathe. But when I stopped by this morning and saw the motorcycle in the driveway, there was no way I could leave.”

  I reached across and squeezed her hand.

  “Do you really drive that thing?”

  I smiled, but looked off so she w
ouldn’t see my eyes. As Kate hugged me again, the tears fell like a monsoon.

  “Be right back,” I said in a nasally voice.

  I went to the bathroom and washed my face. When I returned, Kate was standing by the back door, holding our cups.

  “How about we sit out by the pond?”

  “Sounds great.”

  As I walked outside my mouth dropped open. Before me was the most wonderful garden I had ever seen, with rows and rows of raised cedar beds full of vegetables and salad greens and herbs and flowers.

  “I hope you like it,” she said.

  “Like it? Are you kidding? It’s awesome. Did you do all this?”

  “Some of it, but everyone pitched in. Lyle and Paloma and Mo and Mike and Miguel. Even David on the rare occasions he made it back here.”

  I wandered through the beds, stopping at all the rows of plants. There was rosemary, chives, and lemon verbena. There was kale and spinach and chard, squash and pumpkins. There were tomato plants, their vines wrapped around metal supports, and six different varieties of chile peppers.

  “I wasn’t sure about the chiles,” Kate said. “I was worried they would bring back bad memories. But David insisted, saying that you liked it hot.”

  I rolled my eyes and smiled, touching one of the plants. I thought about the old field worker and wished she could see me now, how I had made it back home.

  “I love it, Kate. It sounds crazy but it wasn’t all bad back there in Hatch. I met some good people. I’ll tell you about them some day. But this is incredible. I love every single plant out here. Thank you. I can’t believe it. I’ve always wanted a chef’s garden. But it’s all too much.”

  “Nonsense. It actually helped me to be out here. I started in March, every other weekend or so, just tilling and planting and supervising the installation of the irrigation system. It helped me maintain positive thoughts, you know, remind me that you were coming back. There were times I needed to believe that, Abby, because—” She drew in a deep breath. “There were times I wasn’t so sure I’d ever see you again.”

  I hugged her.

  “Anyway, I think it will be a relaxing place to spend the summer. Somewhere for you to rest up and heal and get back on your feet.”

  I smiled.

  “Although, I have to tell you that relaxation might be a tall order in the days ahead.”

  “What do you mean?” I said.

  “Reporters have already started swarming around. And I think it’s going to get worse before it gets better.”

  “How did they even know I was back?”

  Kate lifted her eyebrows and together we said his name.

  “David Norton.”

  “He’s my ‘source’ by the way. He’s how I knew you were on your way here. He’s been tracking your whereabouts through that credit card he gave you, so he knew you were heading home. When he saw you were in Idaho he almost hacked up a lung, he was so happy.”

  “But why did he have to share that information with the press?” I said.

  “Because he’s David. For some reason, it was vitally important for him to tell his one point two million Twitter followers that his bestie was on her way home. I should have seen it coming. Sorry, Abby.”

  “No, don’t be. It’s not a big deal. I can’t get mad at David for being David.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear you say that because he’s on his way. I’m picking him up at the airport in a few hours.”

  “Really?”

  “He’s so excited. When I called him earlier to let him know you were here, he told the director that he was leaving. They actually halted production on all his scenes for the next few days.”

  “Wow,” I said. “That’s clout. He really did become a big ol’ celebrity, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah, Golden Globe nomination and all.”

  We both laughed.

  “Listen, I’ll be right back,” Kate said. “And then I want to hear all about it. Everything. That is, if you’re up for it.”

  I nodded.

  “Good.”

  I stood there as she walked toward the house, taking it all in. Kate. The garden with all its different rows of plants, the hummingbirds and bees and blue jays flying around. The willow’s wispy branches brushing over my head.

  I smiled.

  I was beginning to see the beauty again.

  CHAPTER 60

  Kate came back with a galvanized steel bucket filled with ice and beer bottles.

  “Just in case you’re still on East Coast time,” she said.

  “I think my watch is broken. It’s stuck on beer o’clock.”

  We sat in the Adirondack chairs for a long time, talking and drinking in the warm sunshine. I told Kate everything. About Samael and how I had promised to help him all those years ago. About the months spent on the run and training, about the vision with those horrible ghouls swimming toward the land of the living. I told her about how I lived at a monastery for three months, about Father Carmichael, about the long runs through the thick Louisiana brush, and about the fights I had with those monsters as I headed to Marathon. I told her how I was on my way out of the Keys when I saw Simon crossing the street at the last minute.

  I told her about getting beat up by Samael, who was really Nathaniel, and getting kidnapped. I told her about Phil and the yacht. Then I told her about the end and how Samael dragged Nathaniel down to Hell. And how Jesse helped save me from drowning again and how I blew up that boat.

  “So they’re all dead?” she said, her eyes fierce. “Those scientists?”

  “All of them.”

  “Good.” She held her bottle up in the air. “Very, very good.”

  She shook her head.

  “This is all so crazy,” she said. “If it were anybody else sitting here telling me this story, I wouldn’t believe any of it.”

  “If I hadn’t gone through it, I wouldn’t have believed it either.”

  “So this Samael character, you’re saying he was an actual angel?”

  I nodded.

  Out of habit, I started peeling the label off of the beer bottle and noticed that it was a Blue Moon, not something from 10 Barrel. I knew it wasn’t just a coincidence, but it made me think of him anyway.

  “How is he?” I said finally.

  “He’s doing better, Abby. Really.”

  I blew out some air.

  “I hurt him.” I blew out some more air. “The way it all happened. It kills me that I hurt him like that.”

  “If it helps any, I know he still loves you. He might not ever tell you that again, but he does. He still calls to see if I’ve heard anything. If we’ve talked. If you’re okay.”

  I could feel my eyes watering and I looked up at the willow tree, the way the sunlight was weaving in and out of the swaying branches. I knew that Ty and I could never be together again and that what had happened between us would be another one of those things that would always haunt me late at night.

  “I wish with all my heart that it could have been different,” I said. “But there was no other way. Ty wouldn’t have let me go by myself. And the things I had to do, I had to do alone.”

  “I know.”

  We were quiet for a long moment.

  “Are you going to call him and let him know that you’re okay?” Kate said. “I only say that because he’ll probably hear about you on the news soon.”

  I took a long sip.

  “I know I should,” I said. “But I just—”

  “I can call him if you want. Just to let him know you got home okay. And then you can talk to him when you’re ready.”

  “Thanks, Kate. That would be nice.”

  I let my head fall back on the chair.

  “There’s something else I need to talk to you about.”

  “Sure,” I said.

  “It has to do with the police.”

  I looked over.

  “Nothing serious, but they want to talk to you. We’ll have your attorney, the one David and I hired, ther
e with you. You won’t be by yourself.”

  “I thought they closed the case.”

  “They did,” she said. “The cause of Ben’s death was officially changed to a suicide. But you know the cops, they weren’t too happy about how you took off and you weren’t here to answer their questions. You were their prime suspect for a while. I think they just want to talk and tie up loose ends. Nothing more.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Do you still have Ben’s journal?”

  “No, the police took it. Evidence.”

  “What did it say?”

  “Well, basically he detailed what was happening to him and that he was really scared that he was losing his mind. He wrote that sometimes he’d come out of a fog and find himself in places he had no memory of going. He had no idea what was going on. Once he was standing in a cemetery and another time he found himself in the OR scrubbing for surgery. In one of the last entries he wrote that the thing inside him was going to kill him.”

  I sighed.

  “If you didn’t know what was really happening and you just read the journal, you’d think he was insane,” Kate said. “And the police ended up seeing it that way. That he lost the battle against his own inner demons.”

  “Well, in a way he did.”

  She nodded slowly.

  “The cops brought in a handwriting expert who authenticated the journal,” she continued. “As well as a couple of psychologists who determined that he was probably suffering from a dissociative identity disorder.”

  “A split personality?”

  “Yeah, they concluded that one of the personalities killed the other.”

  I nodded.

  “I don’t think I thanked you guys for finding that journal,” I said after a minute. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

  “We got lucky.”

  “I wish I could have saved him, Kate. I didn’t see it coming. What Nathaniel was becoming, had become.”

  “There was nothing you could have done, Abby. It’s like they both died back there on that island when Ben shot Nathaniel. The moment he pulled that trigger and killed his brother was the moment he started dying himself. Part of him believed that it was the right thing to do, but as time went by that part got smaller and smaller. He was never the same. That’s my wish: that I had been the one to shoot Nathaniel. I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. Not for a second.”