The Elder had been just a young boy back then, but his father had known what he was doing. The Elder’s father had betrayed his tribe, the animals, and the land by showing the soldiers how to lure the animals to their deaths. He had also helped the commander understand and contain the possessions of his men every time there was a full moon.
When Trent had met the Elder, he lived up to his name. He was old and drunk and actively deceiving the people of Whittier. After the old man’s death, Trent and Christina had hoped that the town’s curse was finally over and that the possessions of the townspeople would stop.
Trent wanted to know what had happened to them during the last full moon, while he was gone. Hopefully, everyone had all spent uneventful evenings in their beds.
As Trent finished his thoughts, they emerged from the tunnel and into the sunlight of the morning. They were greeted by the Whittier signpost and thankfully no posts warning of recent bear attacks.
They pulled away from the tunnel exit and drove down the road. As the town came into view, it was easy to tell that it was essentially a triangle, with each side being only about half a mile long. There were mountains on two sides and ice blue waters bordering the third. Despite the supernatural secrets of the town, no one could deny its beauty in the light of day, and seeing the beauty of the place seemed to take the edge off his anxious feelings.
He was still shaking, but only slightly, as he pulled into a parallel parking space on the side of the road.
He and Zana eased themselves out of the car and stretched.
“After what I felt in the tunnel, I didn’t expect it to be this beautiful,” she said. “The town itself looks like a shit hole, but the nature surrounding it is gorgeous.”
Trent almost defended the town, but as he looked around at the junked boats and beat up automobiles in the center of town, he had to admit that parts of the town resembled a scrapyard more than anything else.
He peered upward to the tops of the surrounding mountains and then to The Towers with its trademark light blue, salmon, and tan paint job. The units there were billed as condos, but they were cramped, old apartments by the nicest of measures.
Zana shut her door and came around the back of the car. She bumped into Trent affectionately and threaded her arm through his.
“Now that we’re actually here, it doesn’t feel all that bad. Just looking around, I don’t sense anything evil.”
“With the Elder dead, the place should be pretty calm, from a supernatural standpoint at least. We won’t really know until we see what Christina says about how people have been behaving since I left.”
Zana turned her head away at the mention of Christina. He knew that, no matter how tolerant she was, she didn’t want to hear about another woman. But the reality was that he was here in Whittier to find out what had happened to him the last time he was here, and if there was any way to make it go away.
And that meant talking to Christina.
“Before we do anything, I need some coffee,” she said. “Maybe your ex is working and can hook us up with some strong, dark brew.”
He wasn’t sure he was ready for them to meet, but it had to happen sometime, and his desire for a large dose of caffeine overload his anxiety.
Zana must have been able to read his face as she laughed.
“I know you’re nervous, Trent, but let’s just get it out of the way. Remember, she was the one who didn’t want to come with you.”
She turned and faced him on her tiptoes. She moved her lips in close to his and kissed him, gently.
“She didn’t want to be with you, and I did. Don’t forget that.”
Trent kissed her back, and the two of them ended in a tight embrace that helped dissipate the last of Trent’s anxiety.
While he was hugging her, however, he couldn’t help but stare at the coffee shop and restaurant where he had first met Christina—where his whole life had changed.
He and Zana pulled apart slowly, he took her hand, and they strolled across the small road to get to the coffee shop. Just as before, the takeout window where Christina usually worked was open for business.
Trent walked up and knocked on the sliding glass window. It took a few moments before a teenage boy opened the window and asked what they would be having today.
They each ordered a coffee, but when Trent asked the boy if he knew anything about Christina, he looked up to the left for a split second before answering.
“She hasn’t been around here for a couple of weeks at least. Said she’d be back, but lots of people say that when they leave here, and a lot of times we never see them again. This town’s only so big, so my guess is maybe she went to Anchorage.”
Trent thanked the kid and handed him another five dollars for a tip.
Trent and Zana sat down and waited for their coffee. He had come all this way to find Christina, to learn more about the spirit he had picked up the last time he was in town, and to figure out how to get rid of it.
And now that they had finally arrived, in the one place where he had a hope of finding out the answers to his questions, the one woman who might be able to help him had disappeared.
Chapter 15
“NOW WHAT?” Zana said, as they walked away—the steam wafting up from their coffees.
The wind tousled the top of Trent’s thick, black hair. He didn’t feel its bite, but the air was colder in Whittier than it was on the other side of the mountain. It was always colder in Whittier. Darker, too.
The air had an arctic bite to it, and he could feel winter moving in.
“We’ll find her or wait for her to come back.”
Zana took his hand.
“Alaska’s pretty huge.”
“Maybe someone else knows where she went.”
Trent looked down at his shoes. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but he wasn’t feeling good about being back in Whittier.
“Let’s find a place to spend the night, first. I’m not going to get caught here again with no place to stay after the tunnel closes.”
Together, they walked over to the one hotel in town, the Whittier Inn.
As the entered the hotel, his mind flooded with memories. He recognized the all-wood interior of the lobby, and the grand, spiral staircase in the middle of the floor that went up to the next level, where all the rooms were.
They walked over to the front desk, and Trent placed his hand on the counter with just enough sound to get the manager’s attention.
The hotel manager turned around and recognized Trent immediately.
“Mr. Walker?”
Trent forced a smile.
“I bet you weren’t expecting to see me again so soon.”
“You’re correct! It hasn’t even been two months.”
Trent tried to laugh.
“Any chance you have a room open for the night. Maybe a couple of nights?”
The manager frowned without even checking the computer.
“I’ll check just in case there was a cancellation I don’t know about, but I’m fairly certain that we’re booked solid.”
Trent sighed.
“The bartender told me last time how far in advance you guys fill up.”
The manager nodded and shrugged.
“I’m very sorry, Mr. Walker. Maybe you’d like to book a room now for sometime in the coming months? If it’s a bad winter, the town all but closes down, and it’s much easier to find an opening—if you can get here, that is. Drifts get so high that it’s difficult walking around. And the tunnels under the city have been closed for years now. People are pretty much stuck until the snow starts to melt.”
Trent looked past the manager.
“I don’t think we’re coming back after this trip. I don’t suppose the bar’s open this early?”
Finally, the manager smiled.
“Tom’s bartending. I’m sure he’ll want to say hi.”
Trent nodded and walked with Zana over to the small bar, where only a few couples sat at its smal
l wooden tables. It was breakfast time, and most of them were drinking what Trent guessed were Screwdrivers and Bloody Marys.
Behind the bar, hunched over a computer tablet, was Tom, the large, scruffy bartender who Trent had met the last time he was here.
Tom looked up and saw him. Then his eyes went to Zana.
“Don’t know when to stay away, do you?” he said, as he thumbed off his tablet. “And you brought someone with you this time, too.”
Zana glanced at Trent, her eyebrows raised. Trent knew that she had a sarcastic response queued up, ready to deliver to Tom, but he shook his head just slightly to call her off.
“Any idea where Christina might be?”
Tom laughed behind the wooden bar.
“Haven’t seen her in a few days. Like most people in this state, if she wanted people to know where she was, she’d have told someone.”
Trent nodded.
“Fair enough,” he said. “Guess we’ll just have to wait around until she decides to come back.”
The bartender picked up a bar towel and started drying a wine glass that wasn’t wet.
“Maybe she went south for the winter,” Tom said. “That’d be the smart thing to do, as far as I’m concerned.”
“The hotel’s booked up again. You know anywhere else we might be able to stay for a few days?”
The bartender stopped over-drying the glass and pretended to think about Trent’s question.
“Nothing comes to mind.”
Tom gave Zana a predatory glance.
“Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”
“No, he’s not,” she said, as she turned around and pulled Trent with her. Together, they left the bar area and made their way back to the front desk again.
This time, Zana tried her luck.
“Hello again. I think that I neglected to introduce myself a few minutes ago. My name’s Zana. I know you don’t have any rooms available, but I was wondering if there was any place else we might be able to stay in town. Anywhere at all would do.”
Zana poured on her charm and almost giggled—a strange noise that Trent had never heard come out of her mouth before.
The desk manager blushed slightly and leaned forward.
“I can’t promise anything, but there are a couple of people around here who have cabins up in the woods on the mountain. They don’t usually rent them out, but I heard Mrs. Carney yesterday talking about how she needed some extra money for something. If you were to offer her some cash, she might be up for some kind of an arrangement. Wouldn’t be as nice as one of our rooms, but it’d be better than nothing.”
Zana smiled and thanked the man as he wrote down Mrs. Carney’s name and address.
“She lives in one of the condos on Kenai Street. Right across from The Towers. It’s about a five minute walk from here.”
Zana cocked her head slightly.
“I thought that everyone lived in The Towers.”
“Most people do, but there’s a handful of us who live here and there, including the condos. I’m lucky enough to have a room upstairs, for instance.”
Zana thanked him again and touched his hand as she started to walk away.
“Thanks for your help,” Trent said. “And if you see Christina, could you let her know I’m looking for her. I promise it’s nothing bad. Just wanted to say hi…and to introduce her to Zana.”
“Of course,” the manager said with an awkward smile.
As Trent and Zana stepped outside, into the chilled air, Trent turned to Zana.
“Who was that person back there? I haven’t met her yet.”
“That,” she said, “was the Zana who knows how to get information out of men.”
“Great,” he said, as they walked across the parking lot, heading for the condos in front of The Towers.
Zana touched Trent on his arm.
“I thought you mentalists were supposed to observe your surroundings at all times. How did you miss the fact that there were condos here?”
“Just wait,” he said.
A few minutes later, they stood in front of The Towers, and Zana scrunched up her nose as she looked around.
“Okay, I give. What’s going on?”
Trent pointed to the left of the permanently dry-docked boat sitting at the edge of the parking lot. Even though he could see the condos now that he knew what he was looking for, the area was so filled with pieces of this and that, it seemed more like a junkyard than anything else.
“Those are condos?” she said. “I guess that explains how you missed them last time.”
“And it was dark,” he said as they walked over to the unit where Mrs. Carney lived.
They held hands as Trent knocked on the door.
He could hear a television blaring inside the condo, so he rapped on the door again—this time a bit louder.
The sound from the television all but disappeared, and Trent could see someone looking at them through the peep-hole.
“What you want?” the voice said, muffled through the closed door.
“The manager over at the Inn said that you might be interested—”
“What?” the voice said again, louder this time.
Trent looked at Zana.
“We heard you needed money,” he practically yelled. “Cash.”
There was a moment of silence before the door cracked open to reveal a sliver of an old woman’s face. She opened the door a bit more when she saw Zana. She was older than she had looked at first, with dark gray hair pulled back in a hasty ponytail.
“What’d you say about money?” the old woman said.
Zana stepped up to the door.
“The hotel manager said that you might rent us your cabin for a few days. We can pay cash.”
Mrs. Carney’s eyes lit up, and she stepped back from the door, letting it open all the way and waving for them to come inside.
“You should have told me sooner that you had money. Can I get you two something to drink?”
Chapter 16
THE INSIDE of Mrs. Carney’s condo was filled with stacked newspapers, magazines, and other paper products. Trent had heard of hoarders before, but he had never seen one up close.
He and Zana followed Mrs. Carney through the clutter into what he supposed was the living room. The only pieces of furniture not completely covered in paper, were an old, but comfortable-looking recliner and a fold-up TV table in front of it.
Despite the messiness of the condo’s interior, the one side of the living room was a large sliding glass door that looked out onto the inlet. The view was almost worth the squalor.
Trent stood with Zana as the old woman took a seat in the recliner.
“We’re looking for a place to stay for a few days.”
The old woman laughed, then eyed them suspiciously.
“No room in here for the two of you. Even with Mr. Carney gone now for almost three years. You seem like a nice couple, but I can’t help you out.”
Zana leaned forward.
“The front desk manager over at the lodge—he thought you might rent us your cabin for a few days. Maybe a week at the most?”
The woman pulled her head back and pursed her lips.
“You two don’t seem like the outdoor types,” she said, as she looked them over. “It ain’t much more than four walls, a little bit of furniture, a bed, and a wood burning stove. And with the snow already starting…”
Trent reached into his jacket and pulled out his wallet.
“I’ve got two hundred in cash. That’s close to seventy dollars a night for three nights.”
The old woman looked undecided—like she was about to say no. She seemed to go into a daze.
Trent spoke up before she could decline his offer.
“It’s better than the cabin staying empty and making nothing at all. And we’re offering cash.”
“What do you want with my cabin?”
He watched as the woman’s brain tried to function correctly, but it was obvious th
at she was suffering from some malady that impeded her thought processes.
“The money for three nights in your cabin,” he said.
Mrs. Carney nodded, but suddenly, her eyes sparkled, and her mind seemed to work clearly again.
“I’ll take two hundred dollars for three nights, but you have to clean the place up. Sweep it. Empty the ashes from the stove. Wash down the counters. Chop some wood and put it in there, just in case I want to use it or rent it to someone else this winter. We got a deal?”
Trent laughed, impressed with her horse sense.
“We were hoping to get some supplies. Head up there today and get settled in, if that works for you.”
Mrs. Carney nodded again, and forced herself up from her chair. She walked over to one of the endless piles of paper and pulled out a stained piece of cardboard.
On it, she started scribbling with a pen she produced from her jeans pocket.
She waved Trent closer and pointed to a scribbled map.
“Take this road, here. When you see the construction work, keep going for another quarter mile or so. Turn right at this trail. It’s just big enough for a truck to get up. It’s not paved, but I had all the big rocks hauled out when Carl was still around. You should be able to get up it as long as there isn’t too much snow on the ground. Go as far as you can get up the road, then turn the car around, put some rocks in front of your tires, and walk the rest of the way. If there’s a lot of snow when you want to get out, at least your car’s pointed in the right direction. Not much to hit on the way down except trees.”
The old woman laughed and Zana’s eyes went wide.
Mrs. Carney winked.
“I’m sure you’ll be all right, with this nice young man by your side.”
“Do you need anything from us? Any kind of identification or anything?” Trent asked.
The old woman placed a hand on Trent’s shoulder.
“That ain’t how we do things up here,” she said. “I’ll take your word on it, and your cash. Besides, what are you going to do? Steal the cabin?”
Trent handed her the cash, and she laughed loudly as she made her way to the front door.
The Whittier Trilogy Page 38