by Medley, Lisa
“Go for it. I need to change clothes. I’ll be right back out. Thank you, both.”
Sarah grabbed a change of clothes and shut the bathroom door behind her. She’d wait to shower tonight, but should at least get dressed and brush her teeth if she was going to have company for a few hours. There was little chance she and Ellie would have been all that successful alone with the curtain installation. While she wasn’t exactly inept, measuring and leveling were not her strong suit. That, and the fact she had no actual tools. She appreciated Adam’s help more than he could possibly know, and from the blush on his face, Ellie had indeed already settled any debt.
A friend in need…
Sarah was happy that Ellie had finally found a quality guy. She brushed her teeth, feeling refreshed and ready to face the rest of the day. In fact, if she got Ellie and Adam out of her apartment soon, she could even make it over to Chatham for a few hours of research.
She couldn’t shake the thought that James Dawson was a real—if not live—person, nor the nagging sensation that her dreams and Jason’s assailant were more than mere coincidence. Something strange was happening, and while she wasn’t exactly afraid of it, it made her curious enough to pursue the leads she had. In the meantime, she’d keep her crazy on the inside until she had something more substantial to share.
Any hint of what she was thinking and Ellie would make it her mission to untangle the mystery. Not a bad thing, but something told Sarah the situation required more finesse than Ellie could handle. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and joined Ellie and Adam in the living area to work on her home improvement projects. Somehow she needed to convince them both that she was okay.
Now if she could only convince herself of the same.
Chapter Fifteen
A little after two that afternoon, Ellie and Adam finally gathered their things to leave.
“Thanks again, you two. The wall and the curtains are beautiful.” Sarah hugged Ellie hard and put a chaste kiss on Adam’s cheek.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? I could sleep over. Really, it would be fun,” Ellie said, standing in the doorway.
“No. I have errands to run, and you have things to do too, I’m sure. You don’t have to babysit me. I’m fine. Really.”
“I could go on your errands with you. I don’t mind. I like errands.”
“Ellie, no. For real. You’ve done enough. I’m not going to keep being a burden to you.” Sarah nodded to Adam. “Either of you.”
“I called the landlord this morning, and he’ll come next week to install that peephole in your door,” Adam said. “I offered, but he wants to hire someone to do it. I didn’t see any reason he needed to know about your wall, though. No need for you to lose your deposit someday over something that wasn’t even your fault.”
“You two are the best. Now go. I’ll see you Monday, Ellie.”
She watched as they walked the short distance to Adam’s apartment. They leaned against Adam’s door and said their goodbyes to one another. Sarah closed her own door and slid the bolt. If she hurried, she could spend a couple of hours at Chatham Manor. Even though she knew her search was of the needle-in-a-haystack variety, her heart was light with the possibilities. Maybe the distraction was what she needed after everything that had happened. She was sure she would find some evidence of her dream angel, although what she would or could do with the information, she had no idea. Only the all-consuming need to chase down her dream and unearth whatever was buried within it.
After slipping on her running shoes and coat, she hurried out the door and down the stairs. She spared a glance through the glass doors of Greysmith’s, and then along the entire front, street-side windows on the off chance her secret admirer was inside. She’d left her latest letter under her doorway, just in case.
*
Tanner’s curiosity rose as he followed Sarah down the street in a different direction than she’d traveled before. He’d watched as Sarah scribbled the note after she’d awakened, and anxiety had filled him. What were the chances that she had randomly deciphered details of his life? The facts she’d written were the exact details of the dream replaying most often in his own mind as of late. Had he somehow shared unconscious thoughts? Memories? Dreams with her? And if so, what else might transpose to her? The hex?
The thought of bringing his darkness upon her terrified him.
As they entered a large structure, he was further unhinged to discover she apparently had a conveyance of her own. Sarah opened the door to a car and climbed inside. It wasn’t long before he knew exactly where they were headed. His heart picked up its cadence as he rode along what was now named Kings Highway and crossed over the Rappahannock River. The bridge, a much more elaborate piece of construction than he’d entered the city upon more than one hundred fifty years ago, was truly a marvel of engineering. The landscape had changed drastically, farmland having given way to a sprawl of urbanity. Tears of nostalgia sprang to his eyes as they turned down the long lane and Chatham Manor came into view.
The estate was as he’d remembered it. The stately grounds were protected by surrounding forest and farmland. Sarah parked her car well away from the buildings and exited. They walked along a soft path toward the manor. As they approached, Tanner saw the first visible battle scars on the home. One of the books had mentioned the manor had been used as a hospital. How the structure had survived at all was a miracle in itself, and a testament to the era’s carpenters and masons. None of the more recently raised buildings he’d viewed thus far in his travels had been nearly as beautiful nor as outwardly well-constructed. Brick, a sturdy substance, defied the elements and man as well.
Memories flooded him as his feet traveled the familiar pathways. While he could have lodged inside the manor, he’d chosen to remain outside in his tent as did his men. The Major General, high-ranking officers, and many others of his regiment often took full advantage of the accommodations of the manor, relaxing before the fire on the cold December nights. The Major General himself occupied the entire second floor of the home. The adjacent building attached to the manor’s left side housed the War Room. As Tanner followed Sarah into the building, nostalgia beat against his chest. Dread and longing for fulfillment of the second chance he held so close consumed him.
A group of school children, led by their teacher and a uniformed gentleman in the dress of Tanner’s day—the first he’d seen thus far in his new surroundings—drew near. Tanner shuddered as several of the children passed completely through him. Their white hot energy sparked and crackled within him, and for a moment he feared he’d manifest before them, engorged with the charge. This was the wrong place to make himself known, and he struggled to consume and compress the vital energy within him and store it for later. Sarah would not be put off much longer, and if she discovered anything of him here in this place, he’d have no choice but to make a more tangible contact with her.
Soon.
His energy emergency temporarily at bay, he passed unnoticed behind Sarah as she approached another uniformed but very elderly man seated behind a desk. His badge read, “Vernon, Volunteer Park Ranger.”
*
“Excuse me,” Sarah said. “I was wondering where I could find archives of soldiers who might have served in battle on the Chatham grounds.”
The elderly gentleman looked up from his newspaper. “You’d want the microfiche archives for that. We have some exhibits here, but most of that stuff is over at the Fredericksburg Battlefield Visitor Center. Ruby might have some archives of interest for you, though. She’s leading another tour right now. You can look around the library exhibits if you want until she gets back.”
“Great. Point me in the right direction. I’d love to take a look.”
“Follow me.”
Vernon proceeded at the speed of silence, his rickety, skeletal form shuffling across the hardwoods, and his feet never actually seeming to lift. When they finally reached the room marked “Library,” Sarah released the breath s
he’d been holding, relieved the man hadn’t actually died of old age on the trip.
He crossed to the card catalog against the back wall. “Here are a few things you might be interested in. While there’s not a list of every soldier who passed through Chatham, there are some names in here. If you can’t find what you’re looking for here, Ruby can point you in the right direction. She should be back in a couple of hours, but we’ll be closing by then. Have a look but don’t touch anything under the glass. I’m supposed to stay in here with you, but I’m the only one left today. You can make an appointment with her and come back if you don’t find what you need in the card catalog.”
“Thanks so much,” Sarah said.
“Yep.” Vernon turned and began the long traverse back to the information desk, leaving Sarah alone.
She started with the Ds, removing the narrow drawer from the cabinet and carrying it to a long table. Flipping through the tabs, she searched for any mention of a Dawson. She found several, but none for James Dawson. Next she tried a new strategy and pulled another drawer from the archive. Searching through the Js, she still found nothing. She repeated the strategy with O for officers, L for lieutenants, G for generals. Nothing. Growing exasperated, she returned the drawers to their homes.
Maybe this was a fool’s errand after all. She was glad she’d not said anything to Ellie.
The wall clock chimed five p.m. The park was closing. Sarah sighed, pulled her hair into a ponytail, and slipped on a holder from her wrist to wrangle the annoying mess out of her face.
A book in an exhibit across from her caught her eye. Despite Vernon’s warning, and against every rule-obeying bone she had, she lifted the case lid and pulled the small leather bound book from the display. The Masonic compass and square symbol emblazoned in gold on the cover increased her boldness. Turning the yellow pages carefully, she paused when a familiar symbol caught her eye. She stopped cold at the title page inside. A one inch by one inch etching of the dragon engraved on the ring, which hung from her neck, sat dead center on the page. Written in calligraphy directly below it were the words, “Brothers of Peril.” The pages that followed were blank with only the slightest indentations etched across the paper. She turned the first page and traced her index finger across the back side of the parchment, following the pen indentations across like a river of Braille.
Strange a supposed secret society would have any sort of written record at all. Of course, as it was, no visible writing actually appeared.
Perhaps the ink had simply faded over time. A hundred and fifty odd years under the right or—more likely in this case—wrong conditions could certainly do such a thing.
So curious.
“Interesting, isn’t it?”
Sarah startled and nearly dropped the book before turning to find a female park ranger standing in the library doorway. Her name tag read, “Ruby.”
“Yes. Very. I’m so sorry. I just…” Sarah returned the book and lowered the glass display lid, embarrassed to be caught handling the relic.
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
“No. I’m looking for a soldier. Or at least I think I am. I…he may not even exist. I have a name and a rank. He may have been here, at Chatham, but I couldn’t find anything on him.”
“We’re closed now, and we really don’t keep those sorts of records here. The few we have are in the back card catalog. Are you a local?”
“Yes. Princess Anne Street.”
Ruby laughed. “Can’t get much more local than that. If you want to leave the information you have and your number, I’ll take a look this week during my downtime. I’ll call if I find anything.”
Sarah looked again at the raised Masonic symbol across the cover of the book. She pulled at the collar of her shirt as the ring beneath grew warm against her skin.
“Can you tell me anything about this book?” Sarah asked.
“Not much. A few historians tried to take rubbings from it, but it’s apparently written in some sort of code, which they haven’t been able to break. Every few years someone gets fired up about it again and makes a run at it.”
“It’s very intriguing.”
“It is. Lots of urban legend surrounding the Brothers of Peril. This book confirmed their existence, if nothing else. Everything else we do know is in a book by Edward Carnahan in the park bookstore. There’s one copy…” Ruby reached for another book behind Sarah. “Here. Edward was a local guy but he died a few years ago.” Ruby frowned and shook her head. “Good guy. A regular volunteer and guide here at Chatham. We miss him. He mined mentions of the Brothers of Peril from journals and letters through the years and collected them. Finally had them published by a vanity press. There are only about a hundred copies or so in circulation. He found that book…” Ruby pointed to the book in the case. “Only after he’d written his own. I heard he was working on a new edition when he passed. Of course, it’s hard to get much actual proof of a secret society. They did a good job keeping it secret. Even to the grave. This book was discovered in an estate bequeathed to the park upon the owner’s death. Edward swooned until he realized it was written in invisible code.”
“I heard they used some sort of witchcraft or the occult to manipulate the war?”
“Well, they didn’t practice themselves supposedly, but employed and consulted others who did, including some direct descendants of Salem witches, if the stories can be believed. The idea of it makes history a little more exciting, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“There are copies of the engravings for sale on a flash drive if you are interested. For twenty dollars, they can be yours if you’d like to make a run at it yourself. This copy of Edward’s book is for sale as well.”
“That would be wonderful.”
“Come on. I’ll ring you up on the way out.”
Sarah followed Ruby back to the lobby. Vernon sat behind the desk with his head canted at an odd angle, a little line of drool stringing from his mouth.
“Oh, no. Is he…”
“Vernon!” Ruby shouted, giving the man a little pat on his shoulder.
Vernon’s eyes sprang open, and he blinked rapidly, taking in his surroundings, clearly trying to regain his bearings.
“You nodded off again. Time to go home, buddy. I’ll bet Gertrude is waiting in the parking lot for you.”
“Oh yeah. She’ll be hot that I’m late. I better get a move on.”
Vernon’s moves were no faster than Sarah had witnessed earlier. In fact, she was fairly certain he’d still be walking to the lot long after she wrapped up her purchase. She watched him disappear inch by inch into the early winter’s evening until Ruby snapped her attention back.
“$41.15 with tax. So your soldier… Do you have that name and rank?”
Sarah reached for a scrap of paper and pen and wrote the information along with her phone number, name and address, then handed it to Ruby. “Thank you.”
“No problem. But you have to promise if you figure anything out, you’ll come back and share it with me first. I’ve been dying for someone to crack that code.”
“You bet.”
“Good night.”
Sarah walked the soft path back to the parking lot and couldn’t help but watch the ground on the way. No telling what treasures still remained buried here. So much history.
But there was only one piece of it she wanted to track down.
Lieutenant James Dawson.
Chapter Sixteen
Tanner couldn’t believe they’d found the Brothers of Peril grimoiré. The Major General was charged with its protection. He could only assume Sylvia had turned her attentions to the Major General after she had successfully dispatched him. What he couldn’t imagine was what horrors she might have visited upon the Major General to make him relinquish the relic.
The Brothers of Peril had been recommissioned by Lincoln himself. The group had gone dormant after Washington’s term in office ended in 1797. The original members were long dead six
ty-three years later. Tanner had been recruited into the new incarnation for his communication skills, not his supernatural abilities. His current state of existence was his only personal experience with the true supernatural. He’d been sent to the war as a correspondent after a stint at startup newspaper, The New York Daily Times, then later as a liaison. At first, the Major General had considered Tanner’s journalistic skepticism an asset. A check and balance to the other members’ tendencies to look to supernatural answers for every battle impediment along the way, sometimes at the expense of employing actual battle strategy. What had begun as an advantage had become a crutch.
As time went on and tensions ramped up, more and more members were recruited. Their active grimoire was penned from a collaboration of texts through the years, including The Sixth and Seventh Books of Moses and The Philosophical Merlin. It had remained a handwritten guidebook, finally transcribed and encoded by Tanner’s own hand and the key trusted only to the Major General…and Tanner’s memory. All remaining copies of the book had been destroyed under Lincoln’s orders, once the transcription was complete, to retain the secrets of the Brothers of Peril and their influence. It both pleased and terrified him the book remained intact and was available for public consumption—a fact that would have to be remedied at his first opportunity. The tome’s value and power was staggering to consider, even though he currently saw no evidence of war here in Fredericksburg. The book and its influences, however, had been and were still capable of not only winning a war, but of starting one.
And now with everything else he faced, he knew one thing for certain—he needed to protect that book.
*
Sarah stopped for dinner at her favorite Italian place on the way home. She needed a good meal and a pick-me-up. Her trip to Chatham had been disappointing, but she hadn’t come home empty-handed. She flipped through the pages of Mr. Carnahan’s book as she waited for her pasta to arrive. Thankful her stomach had settled enough to eat, she had half of her loaf of bread gone by the time she’d read only a few pages into the first chapter. The book was fascinating. If even half of what it promised was true, the possibilities were amazing.