Among the Shadows (The Ash Grove Chronicles)

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Among the Shadows (The Ash Grove Chronicles) Page 2

by Amanda DeWees


  That was rich, coming from the homeliest teacher at Ash Grove High School for the Performing Arts. Mo was short and fat, with a big round balding head and pale protruding eyes; brilliant composer and instructor though he was, he reminded Maddie of nothing so much as the frog before it had met the princess. But she knew that right now she was looking far from her best: sooty-faced, with singed eyebrows and her hair frizzled up on one side of her head.

  “My parents won’t be seeing me for a while,” she told him. “I’ve changed my plans. I’m not leaving campus for winter break unless William comes to my dad’s with me.” Ash Grove always kept a dorm open for students who had nowhere else to go when classes weren’t in session. She could stay there if William wasn’t leaving town.

  Mo puffed out his cheeks doubtfully. “His mother may have other ideas,” he said. “I just spoke to her, and she’s catching a plane from LA. She’ll be here by lunchtime tomorrow.”

  “Oh.” She hadn’t expected that. She didn’t want to have to get past a gatekeeper whenever she wanted to see William. Mrs. Russell seemed nice enough—Maddie had been introduced to her once via Skype—but right now she would feel like an intruder.

  “Maddie, do you know what dentist Sheila sees in town?”

  “No, why do you—oh, god. You’re thinking of her dental records. To identify her body.”

  “I’m afraid so. As much as William may want to think there’s still a chance she survived the blast, it doesn’t seem likely. The two of you were incredibly lucky.”

  If it was luck. Maddie thought it was something more. Strange things seemed to happen at Ash Grove, and last night had been full of strangeness. Like the demon Sheila had tried to summon to possess William.

  “I don’t see why he’s so concerned about her,” she said. “She tried to kill him, for heaven’s sake.”

  “What?”

  “Well, as good as. She…” Maddie wasn’t sure how much the teacher would believe, but after all the shocks and stress of the night she didn’t have the energy to lie. “She was going to hand him over to a demon in exchange for a brilliant dancing career. She’d only been going out with him to try to get him to sign his soul away.”

  She definitely had Mo’s attention. “To who?” he asked. “What demon?”

  “Amdusias,” she said, startled. “He’s a music demon.” She’d expected him to dismiss what she said, but to her amazement he seemed to be seriously considering it. “Dr. Sumner knows about him.”

  “Tell me more,” said Mo. “I want to know everything you know.”

  Obediently she related what had happened the night before—as much as she knew. She only knew what William had told her about how the power had gone out, and he’d been vague—understandably, what with his head injury. “I was out in the audience with… crap, I can’t remember who I was talking to. But when the lights went out and the alarm started, I headed for the stage, because I knew Sheila would try to get William down underneath.”

  “Knew how?”

  “I’d kind of had a premonition. Anyway, it was a zoo with everybody trying to get out of the building in the dark, and by the time I got down to the underground room, Sheila’d already knocked him out and tied him up and was starting this invocation to summon Amdusias. So I konked her on the head and tried to get him out, but he was too woozy, and that weird guy Reed—you know about him? Amdusias’s PR guy?—he was coming, so William and I hid.”

  “Good. Go on.”

  “So then Reed and Sheila start bitching at each other about whose fault it was that William had gotten away. And Reed gets mad and starts choking Sheila, and he summons up this shadow thing that I guess was Amdusias.” She frowned. She thought there had been someone else there in the underground chamber, but her memory was fuzzy somehow. Maybe she’d inhaled more smoke than she thought, or maybe William wasn’t the only one who’d gotten hit on the head when things started falling apart. “I’m not sure if he was going to kill her or what, but about then the turpentine hit the hibachi…”

  “Is that some kind of metaphor?” asked Mo, and she made a face at him and explained about the fire that Sheila had started and that had gotten out of control because of the chemicals stored in the basement chamber.

  “I was dragging William toward the door to the library tunnel by then, so I didn’t see what finally happened with Reed and Sheila. And then things started really getting hairy, and the storage racks started falling down, and there was this massive explosion. We would have been fried if the shelves hadn’t shielded us. And then the firemen came and rescued us. The end.”

  Mo pointed her toward the coffee machine down the hall, in the lounge where the guys from William’s band were gathered. “The end, nothing. Let’s get you something hot to drink and then you can go back and tell me everything you can remember. All the details, this time.”

  “Okay,” she said, brightening at the prospect of coffee, but that gnawing feeling at the back of her mind had returned, the feeling that there was something she couldn’t quite remember. Something that might be important.

  * * *

  When Tanner reached the Sumner house it was almost noon. He was glad to be at a standstill to soak up the sun’s warmth. The ride from Atlanta with no jacket had chilled him down to his bones… or maybe it was just foreboding.

  The bright chatter of the Hiwassee river rushed in to fill his ears as he cut the bike’s motor and dismounted. The little Craftsman-style house, on a hill overlooking the river, looked almost as he’d left it. But not quite. The magical security features were gone: no bundles of herbs and rowan berries hung at the windows, and the holly wreath on the door was decorated with red bows and clearly signified nothing more than the approach of Christmas, just days away. There were purple and yellow pansies in hanging baskets that hadn’t been there the day before. Had Gail or one of the other neighbors taken it upon themselves to decorate the house?

  Steven’s old VW was parked in the driveway. That was a relief. Next to it was parked a newer mid-size Honda that he had never seen before. The license plate was local, and it had a bumper sticker that read, IF MUSIC IS THE FOOD OF LOVE, WHY IS CUPID SO FAT?

  He mounted the steps to the front porch, his footsteps thudding hollowly on the boards, and knocked at the door. His heart was beating too quickly. He didn’t want to admit how anxious he was. His left hand went automatically to the rowan pendant, but his fingers closed on emptiness. The chain and pendant were gone.

  With a jolt of dismay, he turned to scan the ground behind him, but there was no sign of the necklace. Maybe the chain had broken during the ride. It shouldn’t have brought such a sense of loss, but it was the first thing Joy had ever given him.

  The pendant wasn’t the only thing that had disappeared, though. He was staring at his left hand now. His wedding ring had vanished.

  Footsteps sounded on the other side of the door, distracting him from his rising panic, and the door opened to reveal Steven Sumner. Bearded, bespectacled, professorial, he looked reassuringly normal. For a second Tanner thought he saw shock flash across his face, but the impression was gone so quickly he decided he must have imagined it. Either way, he had never been so glad to see his father-in-law.

  “Thank god you’re here,” he said, pulling open the screen door to enter. “Everything’s gone crazy. Is Joy here? I’ve been looking everywhere—”

  But Steven didn’t move from the doorway. “Can I help you?” he asked. There was no welcome in his face.

  “Well… yeah. Joy had the baby, and then she vanished. I’ve been going out of my mind. Please tell me she’s here.” Why wasn’t he letting him in?

  Steven’s eyebrows drew together in wary confusion. “I think you may have the wrong house.”

  “What is with you? Are you still mad, is that it?” Maybe Steven was taking a petty revenge on him for not letting him in on Joy’s secret location. “Come on, I explained all that. Let me in.”

  “I most certainly will not. Not until you tell me
who you are and what you want with my daughter.”

  Had Steven gone crazy? Had he? “It’s me. Tanner.” No sign of recognition. “Your son-in-law,” he prompted, more urgently.

  A decisive shake of the head. “You’re mistaken. My daughter isn’t married. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

  “But this is crazy! You’ve got to know who I am.”

  Steven eyed him none too fondly. Then he said slowly, as if light was dawning, “You were in my class a year or two ago.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” He wouldn’t have thought that would be Steven’s main memory of him, but at least it was something. “Now will you let me in? I don’t know what game you’re playing, but it can wait til after I’ve seen Joy.”

  That brought a narrowing of his eyes. “I don’t like your attitude, young man. I suspect you may have been drinking.”

  “Are you out of your—”

  “In any case, I don’t feel comfortable letting you in my house, let alone near my daughter—even if she were here. If you don’t leave, I’ll call the police.”

  Dread sank into his gut. Could Steven really have forgotten him? How? But this wasn’t the time for figuring it out. “Joy knows me,” he said. “I just need to talk to her. If you’ll just let me in…”

  “Under no circumstances.” And before Tanner could form a reply, he shut the door, and there came the thunk of the deadbolt slipping into place.

  What the hell. Was Steven gaslighting him?

  He stood there staring stupidly at the door as if it would open of its own accord. The window blinds were closed, so he couldn’t see into the house at all. Was Joy home? Maybe Steven was lying about that to get rid of him. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Joy?”

  No answer. He tried again, louder: “JOY!”

  From inside came Steven’s muffled voice. “I’m calling the police now.”

  Goddamn. What in the living hell… he retreated down the porch steps, scanning the windows for any sign that Joy was inside. Trying to think what to do next. Force his way in? That wouldn’t be hard; there was a spare house key under the flowerpot that stood by the door. Correction: there used to be a spare key there. But he didn’t think he’d be able to stand it if he looked for it and found it gone too. Like his entire life.

  Frustration at his helplessness boiled in him, and he uttered a wordless growl and aimed a kick at the VW, leaving a dent in its door.

  Real mature, dude. Now he’ll definitely call the cops.

  He backed slowly to his bike, still hoping the door would open and Joy would emerge with Rose in her arms. But it didn’t happen.

  Think, Tanner. Where would she be if she’s not at home? Pretend for a moment, since everyone else was, that she had never been at the clinic. She could be in one of the local hospitals. But why wouldn’t her father be with her?

  It didn’t make sense, but nothing was making sense today. It was worth a try.

  He started up his bike and seconds later was peeling out of the drive onto the blacktop road to Murphy.

  Chapter 2

  The hospital bureaucracy was enough to make him lose his mind, if he hadn’t already. Nobody would tell him anything. HIPAA regulations, patient privacy—thank god for impressionable young PAs he could lean in close to and give the melting-eyes routine until they consented to check for him. Only to find nothing. No sign of Joy.

  It was the same in Hayesville. Afternoon was dimming into the early winter twilight when he emerged from the nursing home, his last desperate chance. It was almost as if she’d never existed.

  No, not that bad. Steven had known who he was talking about. But where was she? Who might know for sure? They had covered her tracks so thoroughly when she went off the grid after the wedding. Only Donna had been in on the plan.

  Donna. At the thought of her and Bobby some of the anxiety eased. He wouldn’t feel so alone with them to help him figure things out.

  It took him less than ten minutes to get to their place. And when he reached the modest white ranch house at the top of the hill, it looked just as he remembered. But as soon as Donna answered the door he realized that it wasn’t going to be that simple. If everything had been normal, she would have been in the clinic in Atlanta—with Joy.

  When she saw him she did a double take. “Oh, it’s you! Why’d you knock? I thought it was the UPS guy.”

  She was already heading back toward the kitchen. He trailed after her, baffled. “I guess my head is just somewhere else,” he said. At least everything here looked familiar. Donna was the same as he remembered her, thin and tanned, with laugh crinkles around her eyes and threads of grey showing in her dark hair now that she was in her mid-forties. As she went to stir a pot on the stove, something gave a woofle and knocked against his hand, and he realized that Ducati the dog was trying to get his attention.

  He scratched the hound’s head and made his tail thwack against the doorframe. He felt a rush of gratitude that he was still known and welcome in the house that had been his first real home before he’d been snatched up by Melisande. “Where’s Bobby?” he asked, hoping that the answer wouldn’t startle him.

  It didn’t. “In his workshop, hammering out a wheel guard. I told him he should leave it til the shop reopens after Christmas, but he’s got a case of the stubborns.” She handed him a block of cheddar and a cheese grater. “Give us a hand, shug, and grate that while I chop the onion.”

  He opened a cabinet without thinking and found the stack of blue stoneware bowls where he’d always known them to be. Maybe he wasn’t going crazy after all, though that didn’t explain what was happening and why Steven didn’t know him. “What’s for supper?” he asked as he began to grate cheese into a bowl.

  “Chili. What were you up to today? I don’t think I’ve seen you all day.”

  Should he tell her? Maybe he should try to find out more first. “Just riding around. Now that I’m not with Melisande, I should be around a lot more,” he added, to see what response that would bring.

  Donna just pursed her lips in thought as she got an onion out of the fridge. “That the girl you’ve been seeing? I thought her name was something else.”

  “Joy?”

  “No… Britney, that’s it. So’d you two have a falling out?”

  “I… guess you could say that.” He couldn’t remember any Britney.

  “I have to admit I’m glad to hear that, shug. I know it’s probably not my place to say, but she was so stuck on herself. She always put me in mind of your mother.”

  So his mother must not have changed. Great.

  “So, you met someone else, then?” asked Donna.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I think so. Her name’s Joy Sumner.”

  He’d hoped that would bring some recognition, but it didn’t. Donna just kept on chopping onion. “Nice name,” she said. “What’s she like?”

  How to describe Joy, the girl who’d saved his life and made his damaged heart whole? “She’s great,” he said with an effort. “She’s smart, and sweet, and funny.” He had to stop for a second to get control of his voice. “She’ll stand by someone she loves no matter what, and I’m crazy about her.”

  “Sounds like a winner,” said Bobby, who had come in through the door to his garage workshop. He, too, looked just the way he was supposed to: the short brown beard, the billed cap he always wore, the grease under his fingernails. He didn’t come up to Tanner to slap him on the back in greeting, and he realized they must have seen each other very recently for Bobby not to say hello the usual way. What else had he missed?

  “I bet she’s also got legs up to here and looks like Angelina Jolie,” Bobby added, going to the sink to wash up. “If past history is anything to go by.”

  That threw him. “I didn’t realize I had a type,” he said.

  Donna hooted with laughter. “Oh, sugar, you sure do. Don’t you remember saying that a girl had to be at least an eight to expect to date a ten?”

  “I said that?” What a douchey th
ing to say. How could he have forgotten all this?

  “You were joking, I know, but there was some truth in it.” She saw that he was upset, and moved the subject back to a more comfortable path. “So this Joy, does she like you too? Or haven’t you asked her out yet?”

  If only he could find out what his history really was. “I think she’s got me mixed up with someone else,” he said, his mind working. “She thinks that I’m a big-shot model, that I’ve traveled all over the world as one of Melisande’s protégés.”

  Bobby grinned. “She must be pretty impressed with you. Are you going to come clean, or are you afraid she won’t be interested if she finds out you’re just a bike mechanic who’s never left North Carolina?”

  That was all he was? He felt a quick dart of disappointment, then told himself how stupid that was. He should count his blessings if he’d never gotten tangled up with—

  “Who’s this Melisande, now?” asked Donna as she ladled the chili into bowls. “You said something about her before.”

  “The supermodel.” Again it was difficult to describe someone who was so integral a part of his life… and almost his death, in this case. “The platinum blonde with the famous green eyes. New skin-care line, lots of husbands, all that.”

  Neither Bobby nor Donna showed any sign that that meant anything to them. And if they didn’t know who she was, it meant he had never gone away with her. That she didn’t have any connection with him or Joy.

  Did that also mean that she was still alive? He had to know. As he followed Donna and Bobby into the dining room and sat down at the table, he pulled out his phone and plugged her name into a search engine.

  The results were baffling. A synopsis for the opera Pelléas and Mélisande. A hundred-year-old novel. A folk tale. No results for a supermodel, actress, entrepreneur, celebrity. He did an image search, and a quick glance at the top few pages of results brought no glimpse of the pale perfect face, the knowing sea-green eyes, or the corn-silk hair. Could he really be that lucky? Was the succubus actually gone from his world?

 

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