Twisted Echoes

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Twisted Echoes Page 15

by Sheri Lewis Wohl


  She smiled as she walked toward them. “Hi, I’m Lettie. How can I help you?”

  “I’m Jeremy,” he told her. “And this is Merry. We’re staying with my sister out at the old McCafferty place.”

  “Oh God, I love that house. It’s such a jewel of our area. I haven’t met the new owner yet, although Bea and I were great friends.”

  “She was my great-aunt.”

  Her smile grew. “Oh my God, you’re that Jeremy. I’m so glad to meet you. It’s your sister who owns the house now, right?”

  “You keep up with things, don’t you?”

  “Oh, honey, this is a small town. Everybody knows everybody, and everybody knows what everybody is doing. If you’re gonna be around here you might as well get used to it. Now, what can I help you with?”

  He and Merry explained what they were looking for. A gleam came into Lettie’s eyes as they talked. She might be young, but she loved her job.

  “Come on back here.” She led them to a small room off the main reading room. Inside were shelves full of books and ledgers. It was hard to say what else because there was simply so much.

  “I need your bags, please,” she said to them and held out her hand. “We only allow paper and pencils in here because much of what we have are the actual historical records.

  Merry pulled a notebook out of her bag and then looked up at Lettie. “I don’t have a pencil.”

  “No worries. I have some you can use.”

  Lettie buzzed around the room pulling books for them and then made a pile on one of the tables. She handed Merry three pencils. “This should get you started.”

  He was happy to take his notes in pencil just as long as they could make notes. He wasn’t one of those people with total recall. He needed to write stuff down.

  There was something very intimate and permanent about doing this together with Merry. He’d felt connected to her before. Now, with the baby and the mystery-solving mission, it was like they were already a family. He liked it.

  Besides, here in the library, the edge of angriness that had been with him since last night was gone. He felt much lighter and his head clearer. More like himself. He was beginning to think Renee hit on something when she said the house was trying to reach out and touch them. Out here, the touch was gone and the difference was immediately noticeable.

  His feeling of euphoria lasted until he turned the page of the book he in front of him. The face that stared out from the full-page black-and-white photo, made his blood turn cold. A roar began in his ears, and fog clouded his vision. Anger boiled up inside him, deep and consuming just as it had earlier this morning…at the house.

  “Jeremy? Jeremy!”

  He blinked and looked up. Merry had hold of his shoulders and was shaking him, her face close to his. Concern rang through her words and shone deep in her pretty eyes. The roar in his ears faded, the fog receded, and the historical room came back into clear focus. Tables, chairs, bookcases filled with books, journals, and boxes. His vision cleared, though his heart still pounded, and the disturbing emotions lingered like a bad cold that wouldn’t go away.

  “What happened?” she asked as she cupped his face in her hands. “One minute you were here and the next it’s as if you were in another world. You checked out on me. I’ve never seen you do anything like that before. I’ve never seen your face look so angry.”

  He thought about the strange fugue-like state he’d been in and decided she was right. It was the same inside his head. One minute, there, the next, inside some vortex that wrapped him in a cocoon that was ugly and mean. The feeling of wanting to hurt somebody was overpowering. So much so it made him sick to his stomach.

  “This guy.” He tapped the picture of John McCafferty. “He wasn’t right in his lifetime and still isn’t. Now it’s like he’s trying to worm his way inside of me and morph me into him. I hear thoughts that aren’t mine and have feelings that are so outside of anything I’ve ever experienced. It scares the living bejesus out of me.”

  “Why do you think it’s him?”

  Good question. There really wasn’t anything concrete that let him know it was McCafferty. It was simply an unshakeable feeling that it was that man whose body had long since turned to dust. His spirit was another story altogether. Jeremy had the sense it hadn’t gone anywhere.

  “Intuition is the best explanation I’ve got for you.”

  Merry rubbed one hand across her stomach, the gesture heartwarming in its protectiveness. It helped to bring him firmly back into the present. He loved the fact that even so early on in her pregnancy, she was guarding their child. She was going to be a great mom.

  “This craziness has me worried, Jeremy. Something isn’t right about all of it. It’s bad enough Lorna is being tortured by visions, but now you seem to be catching it too. At least the visions she has aren’t filled with bitterness and anger. I don’t think I really understand what is happening. I do know I don’t like it. I’m positive I hate what it’s doing to you.”

  He would argue with her except everything she said was true. He didn’t like the way it felt any better than she did. In fact, it probably felt a whole lot worse than what it looked like on the outside. Each time it hit him, he felt creepy in a lock-him-in-a-psych-ward kind of way. He didn’t exactly know what to do about it though. It wasn’t like he had any control over when it came and went. At first, he thought it was limited to the house. Now he knew better.

  He started to close the books and stack them in a tidy pile. “Let’s take what we’ve found back to Lorna. See what she and Renee have come across. We can all put our heads together to see what we can figure out, at least for the time being. Then maybe you and I can think about heading home, take a break from this—whatever this is.” He waved his hand over the stacks of books.

  She kissed him on the top of the head and then helped him pull all their scattered notes together. “Great idea. I think you’re in need of some fresh air anyway.”

  They carried the books back to the counter at the front of the room. Lettie was bent over her computer, her nails clicking away at the keys. She looked up and smiled. “You guys need more?”

  Merry shook her head. “You gave us plenty.”

  “I just got started.”

  Jeremy set down the stack he was carrying. “Appreciate it, Lettie, but for now I think we’re good.”

  “Happy to help. You need anything else, come on by. We might be a small library, but we’re mighty.”

  “Thanks, Lettie.” Merry touched her arm before handing over the loaned pencils and retrieving her bag. “It was wonderful meeting you.”

  “Same to you.”

  The minute he handed everything back to Lettie, the heaviness that had fallen over him disappeared. The house, the books, the picture, it all combined to set him on edge, and he resented it. He was in a good place, and he didn’t appreciate some narrow-minded old guy screwing with his buzz. He held Merry’s hand as they left the library, his back straight, his head held high.

  The old bigot could just go to hell.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Alden Swan wasn’t what Lorna was expecting, not that she really knew what to anticipate from the tribal elder and keeper of the historical records. He was about her height with blue eyes and jet-black hair. At about fifty, he had the lean build of a lifelong runner.

  “Hello, hello,” he said as he approached them with hand extended.

  Lorna met his outstretched hand with hers and liked the firm handshake. “Thank you so much for giving us a little time. I’m Lorna Dutton and this Renee Austin.”

  “Lovely to meet you both.” He ushered them into his office at the tribal center.

  Each time she came into Neah Bay, it took her breath away. Lorna totally understood what brought Bea to this area. Having been born and raised in Eastern Washington, this coastal lifestyle was much different from the distinct four seasons on the other side of the mountains. By all rights, this damp, coastal town should feel as foreign to her as
if she’d traveled to a faraway country. On the contrary, it felt much more like she was coming home.

  Now, sitting beside Renee and across from Alden, his battered but lovely wooden desk between them, it was as if they were all old friends. She liked the feeling. It made all the sadness and heartbreak of Anna fade into the background a lot more.

  “So tell me what I can help you with, or maybe I should tell you what I think I can help you with.” His eyes were sharp, and there was a tiny smile on his lips.

  Lorna cocked her head and looked first at Renee then back to Alden. “You know what we’re looking for?”

  A sad look flashed briefly across his face as he nodded. “You’re searching for the truth.”

  “Actually,” Renee began before Lorna could answer. ‘We’re searching for a name.”

  He nodded again, his hands clasped on the top of his desk. “Same thing really. Her name and the truth are tied together. You can’t have one without the other.”

  “How do you know we’re looking for a woman?”

  “I’m a wise man.”

  “All right, I’ll buy that. So tell me what’s her name?”

  “Catherine Swan.”

  Lorna looked at Renee who had the same expression of surprise on her face that she more than likely had on hers. She scooted to the edge of her chair, perched like a cat about to leap. “You’re related?” Funny how this world kept getting smaller and smaller.

  He nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. “Yes, she was my great-aunt, my great-grandfather’s sister. A gentle and beautiful woman who tragically went missing over a hundred years ago. Not a sign has been found since the day she disappeared.”

  “She was Tiana McCafferty’s friend.” She wasn’t asking him a question this time because she knew that much of the truth. She’d seen it with her own eyes.

  Surprising her again, this time he shook his head. “She was much more than Tiana’s friend. She was her heart. Stories the elders handed down year after year tell of their love affair and how death could not break their devotion to each other. They are both gone, but their bond survives even to this day.”

  Shivers raced up Lorna’s arms and tears pricked at the back of her eyes. She felt the truth of his words deep in her soul. She’d not only witnessed their love, she’d felt it. “Even from the grave, they still love each other,” she blurted without thinking.

  Renee reached over and took her hand. The warmth of her touch was reassuring, grounding in a way she needed. “I’m not crazy,” she hurried to add, then smiled. “At least I don’t think so.”

  “She’s not crazy,” Renee confirmed and patted her hand. “But she is having visions involving Catherine and Tiana. Not anything you might be able to help her with, would it?”

  Alden leaned back in his chair and studied her for a long minute. “Ah, so you’re the one.” It wasn’t a question.

  Not exactly sure what he was getting at, she confirmed the basic truth, “Well, yeah, I’m Bea’s niece if that’s what you mean.”

  “No,” he said the word slowly, his fingers now tapping on the desktop. “Your coming to the house on the bluff has been spoken of for a great many years. Both you and the Watcher, for you alone are the one he can touch. And you alone will right the wrong done so long ago.”

  He seemed so rational when they first got here. Now he was talking about prophecies and beings. Didn’t sound very rational now. She’d play along for a minute, but only a minute. “The Watcher? What is that?”

  He was nonplussed by the obvious skepticism in her voice. “Not what but rather who.”

  Breathe, she told herself. “Okay, who is this watcher guy and what does he have to do with me?”

  Alden stood. “Come, let us walk down to Lily’s coffee shop, order some good coffee, and I will tell you of the legend of the woman savior and the Watcher.”

  The coffee was good and Lorna settled back in the chair. Alden’s voice was mesmerizing as he began to tell them of the Watcher.

  “Many think the Watcher is one of the spirits of our tribe, but he is not. He was once an angel sent to earth by God.”

  “Seriously?” Lorna was having a more difficult time grasping the concept of an angel on earth than she did ghosts in her house.

  “I am most serious. The Watchers were sent to earth by God to watch over the humans, but somewhere along the line they failed the Lord and lost their place in heaven. The Watchers were condemned to roam the earth trying to redeem themselves and earn a place in heaven again.”

  “What does this Watcher guy have to do with us?”

  “Everything. He has been watching over Catherine since the day she left this world, and he’s been waiting for you to help him bring her home.”

  Lorna wasn’t quite sure what to make of this. “How could you possibly know any of this?” Renee reached over and took Lorna’s hand. She was glad to feel the warmth and reassurance of that simple touch.

  Alden leaned across the table and placed a hand on her arm. His blue eyes were steady on her face. “We all have our own gifts. Mine is this. Open your heart and your mind, Lorna Dutton. Let Catherine come to you. Let the Watcher guide you, and when you do, you will be the one to set the universe right once more.”

  *

  The Watcher frowned and crossed his arms across his chest. Dusk was settling in, and they had not yet returned. It was good that they were all out because at last they seemed to understand the importance of the task before them. Still, he was unsettled by their lengthening absence. Giving the other one time to gather strength was not good. It was important to hold him back as long as possible.

  The setting sun sent long shadows across the expanse of grass. From his place in the shadows, he watched the house as he had on many other nights. At first, he could not understand what was bothering him so greatly beyond the fervent wish for the women to return. Then he realized what it was: the entire house was dark.

  The older woman, the one always here, was not inside. Unease rippled through him as though a cold wind had blown in. She was a woman of habits rarely broken. For the many nights he’d stood in this spot waiting for the one who would come, he’d watched the lights in the house come on. The woman would work in the kitchen making meals and cleaning. Her spirit was clear, clean, and consistent.

  Now, with a sickening realization that he could no longer sense her presence, his fear grew. Her spirit, always so strong, was gone from the confines of the home’s walls. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Weakly, he felt the thread of her, but it came from far away. He wanted to reach out and touch her. It would do him no good. He lived in the shadow world, and only a very few could move between them. The older woman was not one of them.

  Inside the house, something else made his unease skyrocket. He was growing stronger. That worried him immensely. Especially now when there was no one inside to keep him in check. Had he done something again? Had he hurt yet another?

  It could not happen again. Though he sought redemption for his own soul, he would gladly forfeit any right to return to heaven if he could banish the evil one. So many years and so much heartache had resulted from the man’s walk on the earth. Even now, when he no longer existed in the world of the living, his being infected the world around him. It wasn’t right, and it was up to him to stop him once and for all.

  The problem was he couldn’t do it alone. He needed her and he needed her now. Time was slipping away faster and faster with no way to halt it. Soon, it would be too late for all of them.

  The darkened windows of the house seemed to mock him. The blankness of the glass reflected back his own isolation. As he gazed at them, a face appeared and stared back at him. One second it was there, and the next it was gone. His heart lurched at the sight. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs.

  His worst fears had been realized. There was no longer a question of how long they had to make things right. They were out of time. He was back.

  *

  “Well, that’s odd,” Renee
said as they pulled into the driveway. “I wonder where Mom went. She had her doctor’s appointment this morning and said she was going to pick up groceries on the way home. I don’t think she mentioned going anywhere else?”

  Lorna shrugged. “Maybe she ran back into town for something she forgot at the grocery store?”

  It was a possibility though not a very strong one. “Maybe, but I doubt it. You want to talk about someone with compulsive habits and you’ll be talking about my mother. Mom is one of those people who make lists for everything. Trust me, if it wasn’t on her list, she didn’t buy it and she didn’t need it. Besides, she’s always been quite firm about dinner time. She should be in whipping up something by now and watching the clock to make sure we’re back on time. Even at our age she would ground us if we show up late to her dinner.”

  “She has a cell, doesn’t she?”

  Renee nodded. “Reluctantly, yes. She fought me a little on that one, but I shoved her into the twenty-first century kicking and screaming.” She pulled out her own phone and called as they were walking in through the back door to the mud room. No great smells of cooking food wafted through the open door to the kitchen.

  They looked at each other when the strains of a familiar song could be heard coming from the other side of said door. Her stomach lurched. It was her mother’s ringtone. Her uneasiness turned to fear. Something was very wrong.

  “Mom!” She raced into the kitchen.

  Lorna followed her in and flicked the light switch, bathing the kitchen in a warm glow. It was empty except for the phone on the counter still trilling her mother’s favorite song. She stood staring at the phone while Lorna walked out of the kitchen. She came back moments later. “Unless she’s upstairs, nothing.”

 

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