Haunt My Heart

by Medley, Lisa

  Jason was erratic and non-committal. That much was true. But he was still building his career. Realtors were on call 24/7, and he was one of the top three in Fredericksburg at only twenty-three. He’d gone to real estate school straight out of high school and built his sales quickly with his charming smile and smooth talking. Nothing wrong with using your assets to get ahead.

  Candace appeared in her doorway, crushing her using-your-assets-to-get-ahead theory. Her eyes pinched at the corners and her mouth thinned into a grim line.

  “You were late. Again.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  Candace stared a hole through Sarah’s soul. Her arms crossed under her visible cleavage, pushing up her breasts in case one was sight impaired and perhaps hadn’t yet noticed them. She tapped her Manolo shoe in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture.

  “I just got out of a meeting with corporate. Apparently, they got a call from Zymetron. They love your website revamp and their sales doubled last month. They insisted you receive a bonus for your work and sent over a check in your name for one thousand dollars.” Candace uncurled a damp, crumpled check from her well-manicured fist, and tossed it onto Sarah’s desk.

  With shaky hands, Sarah smoothed out the check. Sure enough, one thousand dollars. Her mind raced and her cheeks heated with pride. Curtains would soon be hers.

  “Don’t be late again.” Candace spun on her pointy heel and clicked across the antique grade wooden floor back to her office.

  Ellie reappeared seconds later. “What was that all about?”

  Sarah held up the check, dancing it around and wiggling in her chair.

  “A grand? A bonus? God, that had to have killed her,” Ellie said. “We need to celebrate tonight.”

  “No thanks. I need curtains. Celebration is for the weekends. Didn’t we have this talk not ten minutes ago?” Sarah folded the check and tucked it into her wallet.

  “Do not tell Jason you got that bonus check. Do you hear me, Sarah Elizabeth Knight? He has no need to know about it. The man made six figures last year and all he’s given you is grief. And possibly some yet to be determined disease.”

  “I do not have a disease!” Sarah pushed back from Ellie and glared at her. “You are harshing my high over here.”

  Ellie’s lip quivered in an exaggerated faux pout. “I’m sorry. Saturday then. We go curtain shopping, and then celebrate. Promise.”

  “Much more reasonable. Promise.”

  *

  Tanner learned a lot in the three hours he spent tagging along with Sarah at her place of work. But every new development only led to more questions. The sheer number of women working side-by-side with men in the building was confounding to him. Who was looking after the women’s families? He collected knowledge like the soldier he was and began to piece together an amazing tapestry of impossibly curious facts.

  The most curious of which he still could not adequately process. The calendar on the lighted box sitting on her desk professed the date to be Dec. 5, 2014.

  TWENTY-FOURTEEN?

  Incredulous, he tried to absorb the fact. Clearly, the world had continued while he lay dormant for the past one hundred fifty years. It was much as the story he’d once read of Rip Van Winkle. Well, perhaps not much as the story. Still, the apt parts most assuredly applied. Unexpectedly, he too found himself a stranger in a strange land. And no one knew it.

  Refusing to become downtrodden, he reminded himself his current condition was much improved from only a day earlier. Despite his confusion and sudden thrust into this brave new world, he was thankful beyond measure to be out of the ring. If he must be slave to a mistress, he could have fared far worse than this Miss Sarah Knight.

  A verse from Shakespeare’s The Tempest came to mind.

  “How many goodly creatures are there here!

  How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world,

  That has such people in’t.”

  Indeed.

  Sarah was on the move again, and Tanner continued behind her, arriving at a canteen of some sort. The smell of rich, dark coffee staggered him, nearly bringing him to his knees. He reached for the countertop for support on instinct, but his hand passed directly through it. The aroma was the first true sensory experience, other than sight, he’d encountered since his energy had extinguished and his faculties faded to nothing. While he could sense and feel his awareness on a metaphysical level and he continued about as if all were well, his physical body remained mere spirit. Inhaling deeply, he marveled at the ebony wonder of life-affirming liquid Sarah proceeded to ruin with copious amounts of cream and sugar, turning the delicious, dark delicacy to a pale beige color.

  Dear Lord.

  Once awakened, his olfactory sense was overwhelmed with a barrage of all manner of unrecognizable scents. Despite the heinous desecration of her cup of coffee, Tanner reveled in the gift of its bouquet and its complete lack of coffee grounds floating about.

  People scurried about the canteen. Sarah sliced, then dropped a biscuit of some sort into a contraption. The device immediately began to glow inside with hot coils that appeared to heat the bread. A few seconds later, much to his surprise, the bun popped up, steamy and toasted. She slathered white frosting containing what appeared to be blueberries—very much out of season—across its toasted face. The knife she used to spread the frosting slipped from her grip and skittered under the cabinet.

  Sarah bent to retrieve it and returned with not only the knife, but also what looked to be a small tool.

  “Holy cow.” Sarah looked around the canteen and scooped up her bread and coffee.

  She scurried across the office and stopped in front of a door, which led to a room where sat a person he assumed was her superior. She was the same unpleasant woman who had reluctantly brought some good news to Sarah earlier.

  “Candace. Is this yours?” Sarah stood in the doorway.

  Candace looked up from her spread of paperwork and glared at Sarah over the rims of a pair of glasses. She leaped up from her chair and crossed to the door in two quick strides, her gait surprisingly agile despite her torturous footwear.

  Eyeing the flash drive, Candace snatched it from Sarah’s hand. She gripped Sarah’s elbow and pulled her into her office, then shut the glass door behind them.

  “Where did you find this flash drive?”

  “In the break room, under the cabinet. You must have dropped it when you went for coffee.”

  “How did you know it was mine? Did you open it?” Candace’s face reddened and a vein in her neck pulsed visibly.

  “Of course not. I heard you had lost a flash drive. When I found this one, I thought the chances were good it was yours.”

  “You’re sure you didn’t view it?”

  “Positive.”

  Candace’s shoulders lowered in apparent relief. She smoothed her hand down Sarah’s sweatered arm, practically petting her. Her eyes lingered on Sarah’s necklace.

  “What is that? Are you going steady? A little old to be wearing a class ring, aren’t you?”

  Sarah grasped the ring and tucked it under her collar, out of sight. “It was a gift.”

  “Very well. Thank you for returning my flash. I was going crazy trying to recreate everything on it. It seems you’ve saved the day.” The look on Candace’s face said otherwise.

  That woman was not to be trusted. Tanner hoped Sarah recognized the underlying hatred emanating from her tone and wished she could see the mustard colored aura surrounding her boss. A talent he himself had only acquired in death.

  Then again, it didn’t require a Samuel Morse to understand the message her superior telegraphed.

  Chapter Five

  Sarah collected her purse and phone and headed out to lunch. Her original intention had been to go straight to Chatham Manor and turn in the ring. Being late to work today and without her car made it impossible to complete the task during her lunch hour. Basically, she’d accomplished nothing since arriving at the office. She had a lot of ground to mak
e up this afternoon. Her growling stomach finally got the best of her, and she left for Deaton’s, the little sandwich shop down the street. Ellie was working through lunch so Sarah decided to bring her something since she was currently flush with cash, thanks to her unexpected windfall. Or at least she would be as soon as she deposited it at the bank, which was also along her route of travel.

  She buttoned her bright pink peacoat, then plugged in her ear buds and tuned into WZRK in time for the Ladies of the 80s lunch show. No one need know her secret indulgence, especially Jason, who would only make fun of her. She stepped out into the cold sunshine of Caroline Street to Katrina and the Waves singing Walking on Sunshine, and smiled at the appropriateness.

  Living and working downtown was fantastic most days, and this was one of them. The bank was a block away and Deaton’s was too, which meant she could enjoy the added perk of window shopping along her way. Thursdays in downtown Fredericksburg were typically pretty quiet and today was no exception. Lunch crowd regulars hustled by to their favorite spots, but the tourists were mercifully scarce. Tomorrow night would be a different story. First Friday Art Walk brought out entire families. The bars, galleries, and restaurants would be hopping with locals, who were happy to get out of the house and enjoy some culture and fellowship.

  Ellie and Sarah rarely missed a First Friday.

  After depositing her check, she headed to Deaton’s just as the radio station began the Out to Lunch trivia segment.

  “What 80s rocker should have been born in Fredericksburg, with hits including ‘Love Is a Battlefield’ and ‘Hit Me With Your Best Shot’? First caller gets lunch for twenty from Papa Paul’s for their office tomorrow and four free concert tickets to WZRK’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve Extravaganza. And go.”

  Sarah tore off her gloves and hit speed dial on her phone. Always too slow, she still tried every chance she got. She stepped away from the ATM and leaned against the bank window front, bouncing excitedly when her call rang through.

  “Come on. Come on.”

  “WZRK. You’re on air and caller number one. For the win, what 80s rocker should have been born in Fredericksburg with hits including ‘Love Is a Battlefield’ and ‘Hit Me With Your Best Shot’?”

  “Pat Benatar.”

  “You got it! Who’s calling and where are we sending lunch tomorrow?”

  “Sarah Knight and lunch goes to Rappahannock Reveals Web Arts.”

  “Stay on the line, Sarah, and we’ll get the deets. Now for you Ladies of Lunch listeners, some Pat Benatar to get you through the lunch hour, because some days love really is a battlefield.”

  Sarah’s heart pounded as she finished up with the radio station on her walk to Deaton’s. What a crazy day. Glancing at her phone, Sarah saw the little red notification circle on her app boasted an impressive eleven missed calls, taunting her and filling her with guilt. Another missed call from Jason just now as she waited in line at Deaton’s for her sandwich order. Her heart sank. Still no message, just Jason’s name filling her recent calls list.

  He wouldn’t be excited about the New Year’s Eve bash. For one, he hated all things 80s, and two, he wouldn’t be caught dead at the Masonic Mosque, where the bash was held. Frequenting the downtown venue was not the image he strove for.

  Ellie would go with her in a heartbeat, but there would be hell to pay for missing New Year’s with Jason. Which to go with—girlfriend or boyfriend? That was the question. Her excitement mixed with anxiety as she ordered her sandwiches. Her stomach did weird little flip flops when she walked back out onto Caroline Street.

  She refused to call Jason back now and let him ruin her day. Despite a rocky start, this was one of the best days she could remember. A bonus, finding Candace’s flash drive, lunch for her coworkers tomorrow and free New Year’s Eve tickets? Tempting fate for sure. Besides, if he really needed her, he could leave a freaking message.

  The cold wind picked up as she left Deaton’s. She scrolled through her emails one-handed while she walked back to work. The wind snapped a shop flag from the doorway beside her head. Startled, she looked up from her phone, and realized she stood in front of Caroline Creations, a jewelry store she’d only ever considered by window. She couldn’t afford expensive jewelry, and Jason had made no mentions of an engagement, despite the fact they’d been together five years.

  Five years.

  Ellie wasn’t entirely wrong about Jason. He wasn’t an asshole, but he was passionate about his career. Sometimes, it seemed he cared more about his work than her.

  A necklace in the window caught Sarah’s eye. She pulled the ring out from underneath her sweater, debating whether to go in.

  She still had some time remaining in her lunch hour, and it wouldn’t take more than five minutes to make the walk back. No one had to know where the ring had actually come from. She was very curious as to its value if any and even the history behind it. Clutching her sandwich bag, she walked into the shop. A tiny bell rang out announcing her arrival.

  “May I help you?” A gray-headed man emerged from a small office behind the counter, holding a sandwich of his own.

  “Sorry to disturb your lunch.”

  “No. No. Happy to help you.” He set the sandwich on a napkin on the display case and smiled. “What are you interested in seeing today?”

  Sarah examined the case in front of her, which was labeled with a glossy sign. Custom Designs for all Occasions. She set her own lunch sack on the case, then reached behind her neck to unclasp her necklace.

  “I’m curious about this ring.”

  “Oh?” The jeweler took the ring to examine it and slid on a pair of thick glasses. After a long moment, he cut his gaze back to Sarah and raised an eyebrow, his mouth quirking into a half smile. “Funny, you don’t look like a Civil War Mason.”

  Sarah felt a warm blush creep up her neck, which she hoped didn’t make it to her face.

  “It was a gift from my ex.”

  “Well, it’s quite a gift. There were many Masons active during the Civil War here in Virginia, but there was one sect in particular rumored to have dealt in—let’s say, some blacker magic. This ring is of the Brothers of Peril, a fringe group of the Masons. The dragon and the black onyx stone give it away. Of course, this is the first I’ve actually seen of one in real life. The number of membership was never known.”

  “Black magic? What did the Brothers of Peril do exactly?”

  The jeweler twisted the stone in the light. “They supposedly cavorted with local witches, trying to affect and predict the results of battles. Onyx was once thought to be the manifestation of demons who would awaken in the night and spread nightmares to anyone within range. Considering that the stone is formed from volcanic lava, you can see where early folks might think it came from Hell. Later, onyx was used for protection and even defense against black magic. Major General, right here at Chatham Manor for a bit, was supposedly a member of the Brothers of Peril. Although that’s mostly urban legend. Where did you say this ring came from?”

  “My ex-boyfriend got it off eBay.” The lies slipped out so easily, Sarah felt herself blush again. “Is it worth anything? He’s so cheap I’m sure he didn’t spend much on it, but the stone is so pretty. And since we broke up recently, I thought maybe…”

  “Maybe you’d sell it?” The jeweler’s eyes lit up.

  “I’m not sure. Just curious.” Even though she fully intended to return the ring, there might still be a reward or a finder’s fee. Although she wouldn’t be that lucky, a girl could hope.

  “The stone isn’t worth much by itself and the price of silver is even less right now. If the band had been gold, you might have a few hundred dollars. Without any provenance to go with it, and only urban legend to substantiate it, there are some collectors who would still pay maybe a few hundred dollars for it. But it would take a while and a lot of legwork to track them down. If you want to sell it now, I’ll give you two hundred for it.”

  The gleam in his eye told Sarah he’d double, a
nd maybe triple, his offer.

  “How much to turn the stone into a proper necklace instead?” Sarah asked.

  “Considering you already have the cut stone, and depending on how you want it set, etcetera, it would run anywhere from fifty dollars to the sky’s-the-limit, my dear. I would hate for you to defile such a potential artifact, however. Of course, it’s your choice.”

  He handed the ring and chain back to her. She restrung it, then clasped it behind her neck before tucking it back beneath her sweater.

  “I’ll think about it. Thanks so much.” She smiled, grabbed her lunch and returned to Caroline Street. The Fredericksburg town clock bell sounded one time and fear stabbed through Sarah’s heart.

  Late. Again.

  Breaking into a trot, then a full-out run, she raced the remaining three blocks and took the excruciatingly slow elevator back to the top floor offices. She slid sideways into her cubicle—thanking the gods for reminding her to wear sensible shoes today—at five past one.

  Sparing a stealthy glance in her vanity mirror hanging in the corner of her cube, she saw Candace’s office was still dark. No one counted the boss’s lunch hour. And really, being on salary technically meant no one was supposed to be counting Sarah’s lunch minutes, either. Still, probably better not to press her luck, even though today had been exceptional so far.

  She unpacked her sandwich and emailed Ellie to come and retrieve hers.

  Seconds later, Ellie’s chair rolled around the corner of Sarah’s cubby. Arms crossed, she settled in. “Do you have a death wish?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sarah bit into her chicken salad croissant.

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about. I thought you were the responsible one in this relationship. You are falling apart, girlfriend.” Ellie unwrapped her Reuben, closed her eyes and smiled. “You are a lucky girl.”