"I would help you, Tarrh; if there is a way, I will help you,” she vowed.
Chapter 24
Liz trudged wearily into her bedroom and sank onto the edge of the bed without turning on the light. Her time travels had left her exhausted and she wanted sleep. She knew maybe she should wake Kim and tell her she was home, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to walk to the other end of that long hall. She slipped out of her shoes and pants, climbed under the covers.
Thoughts of Tarrh McCann filled her mind. She couldn't help feeling compassion for him and the position he had put himself in. She wondered if the three souls Tarrh had banished to spend eternity in the dark pit had actually melded into one, or if there was still some vestige of each individual in that unlikely composite essence he had created. If he still existed as a separate entity, perhaps he could be separated from the other two; then Moira and Sean could be banished and Tarrh could be sent to the light. He was a good man; no question in her mind about it. Why should he have to continue to pay for a mistake he had made in judging Moira's character, or lack of it?
She wondered about Sean as well. Perhaps he, too, had been duped by the treacherous Moira. Was he truly Tarrh's brother? Strange, he more closely resembled Moira than Tarrh. Maybe they were actually the ones who were brother and sister, collaborating to steal Tarrh's fortune. Then who was Benjamin really related to? He undoubtedly bore little resemblance to any of them other than Tarrh, though similarities in appearance might have been tempered by the genetic variables of several generations. The answers to many of the questions she had about this house and its mysteries were becoming clearer to her, but each new answer she found only led her to more questions.
She rolled onto her side, closed her eyes. Tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow will be soon enough to continue unraveling the tangled past. She was tired.
She was just drifting off when she felt a stir on the other side of the king-sized bed. Her eyes flew open; she reached for the bedside lamp, switched it on. John was staring wide-eyed at her. “You just scared five years off my life! What are you doing here?” she asked.
"Thank God you're back. I was so worried about you!” he said. “What happened to your face?"
She blinked groggily at him, shook her head and closed her eyes. “Ask me tomorrow. I'm going to sleep now."
"That looks like a nasty cut. We should put something on it,” John said.
"Don't—touch—my face,” she ordered. “It has already been scrubbed and accosted with potion. Mark can look at it in the morning when he comes to check on my other problem."
"But you haven't even taken your pill yet,” he reminded.
She opened one eye, turned off the light. “I made it through three hundred years and back without it—I don't need it now!” she growled. “Now shut up, or go away!"
"Good night, Liz.” he sighed. “Glad you're back and safe."
She took a deep breath and floated into oblivion.
* * * *
In the morning, Liz found John and Kim downstairs at the bar chatting over coffee and eggs. She quietly took her place on a stool between them, sat with her head propped between her hands leaning on the bar.
"You're up early, sunshine,” John greeted.
Liz sighed, gave him a half smile. “Sorry I was rude last night. I was totally wiped out and not in the mood to discuss it."
"Want some breakfast?” Kim asked.
"Just toast and juice. I'll get it; you just stay there,” she replied as she got up and walked into the kitchen.
"So,” Kim said. “Where did your travels take you?"
Liz popped the bread into the toaster, pushed the lever. “You sure you want to know?"
"Well, yes; I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know,” Kim said.
"I had a quick visit with Tarrh and his wife, Moira—and his brother Sean—and Moira's two dogs,” she said as she poured her juice. She drank deeply, poured more.
"Sounds interesting,” John said.
"You have no idea,” Liz said as she poured a third glass of juice. She took the toast as it popped out of the toaster, spread a pat of butter on the first piece and proceeded to devour it.
"You are going to share your experiences with us, aren't you, Liz?” Kim asked, watching her friend wolf down the toast. “Good to see you got your appetite back."
"I'm going to ignore your sarcasm. Mark is coming soon, isn't he? I wanted to have something in my stomach before he gets here,” Liz said.
"Liz! What happened at Tarrh's house?” Kim pressed.
"Tarrh's not alone—Moira and Sean poisoned him and he knew he was dying. He worked some kind of binding to confine all of their souls together in some kind of limbo he called a dark black pit. He knew he couldn't save himself, so he decided to take them with him,” Liz said.
"You mean he killed them, too?” Kim asked.
"No. Apparently, they lived out their lives and possibly even had children together. But when they did die, their souls went to him. What I don't think he realized was that all three of them would actually mingle into a single entity,” Liz said.
"I don't understand. You're saying Tarrh bound their souls? How is that possible?” John asked.
"I didn't ask him to explain the process to me, John! I was too surprised to find him to be a civil, intelligent and humane person to ask him what method he used to take their souls captive,” she retorted.
"You mean he was actually a decent sort?” John asked.
"Yes, he was,” she said. “But Moira wasn't, and I'm not certain about Sean. Moira duped Tarrh to gain access to the portal for her own selfish reasons; she may have tricked Sean as well. Anyway, the being we're dealing with is so strong because it is actually three entities combined into one. The evil side is powerful, but there is still good. Tarrh still has light in him."
"Did he tell you how to get back here?” Kim asked.
Liz told her companions what Tarrh had told her about the portal and how it worked. “The effect is only temporary and after some amount of time, it brings you back to where you were before,” she concluded.
"But the click—I thought it was the activation of some kind of transporter device, after you disappeared,” Kim said.
"I know,” Liz agreed. “I thought so, too. But if it was, then it was Benjamin who discovered how to consciously control the portal. Tarrh said Benjamin had visited him a couple of times, which implies Benjamin had some ability to control and direct the portal to transport him to a specific point in time and space."
"So Benjamin may actually be stronger than Tarrh?” John asked.
"Possibly, inasmuch as Ben built this house in a somewhat different manner from Tarrh's, visited Tarrh at his house and apparently was the one who sent Tarrh back to the pit after inadvertently summoning him,” Liz affirmed.
"Does that mean we don't need Tarrh's writings?” Kim asked.
"We need them so we can destroy them—so no one can ever accidentally call the entity here again,” Liz said. “First, though, I would imagine we need Benjamin or his writings so we will be able to contain the entity we know as Tarrh."
Kim and John looked at each other.
"What?” Liz asked.
"We found the hidden door to the front room. It was apparently Benjamin's secret study; that room in Tarrh's floor plan was accessible,” John said.
"Well, what's in there?” Liz asked.
"More books, and Ben's personal journals; ledgers and a portrait that will surprise you,” Kim said.
"A portrait? What about it will surprise me?” Liz asked.
"Come have a look at it,” Kim said.
Liz followed Kim and John through the hall to the closet just inside the front door. Kim opened the door to the closet and indicated an entrance on the opposite side of the room, then handed Liz the flashlight and stood back for Liz to enter the room ahead of her. Ben's study was built without any windows and had shelves lining the walls, like in most of the other rooms. In the center of
the room was a large desk cluttered with papers that apparently had been untouched since Ben was murdered. She stepped to the desk, looked through the layers of dirt at the papers.
She looked at Kim, who pointed to the wall opposite the desk. Liz shined the light on the wall and the large portrait hanging there, caught her breath when she peered at the face in the picture. It looked almost identical to the face in the portrait of Missy in the library. “Constance?” Liz asked.
"Apparently,” John said. “Of course, you realize Missy was the image of her mother at that age. Perhaps this is why Betty felt so at home here and why the spirits never gave her anything to fear. If she looked so much like Constance, that would explain a great deal, wouldn't it?"
"Wow,” Liz said.
"Such a gift of understatement,” Kim said. “Remember what Betty said about the dreams of being married to one man while she was in love with another?"
"Yes, of course, I remember,” Liz said. “Do you think Betty is the reincarnation of Constance, or just a look alike?"
"Either way, it is quite remarkable, don't you think?” John asked.
"It's completely remarkable,” Liz said. “This woman doesn't look something like the portrait in the library; she is the spitting image of Missy. Totally unbelievable! What if Missy was the reincarnation of Constance? Think about it. They both died about the same age, didn't they?"
John rubbed his chin thoughtfully, stared at the portrait. “It's an eerie thought that either of them might have been Constance in another life. I mean, what says an entity would take on the same appearance when it reincarnates, assuming, of course there is even such a thing as reincarnation?"
"I can't think of any arguments for or against reincarnating in a body that looks like your last incarnation,” Kim said, “except of course, that it may be asking too much to believe Betty and Missy both just coincidentally happened to look like Ben's long lost love. What did Moira look like, Liz?"
Liz took a step away from the portrait, shook her head. “She didn't look anything like this. She was tall with raven black hair, dark eyes and alabaster skin. She was quite beautiful, but at the time when I saw her, she had met with some kind of calamity which left one side of her face maimed. There was a wide red scar along the jaw bone from the hair line nearly to the edge of her nose, then down the side of her face and neck and as far as I could see, on down onto her chest."
"What else can you tell us about her?” John asked.
"She was an extremely frightening woman who took an instant disliking to me. This mark I have on my face was made by a ring she wore when she slapped the daylights out of me,” Liz said indicating her cheek, only to find there was no soreness or swelling left on her face. “I don't believe this! You saw the wound last night, didn't you, John?"
"Yes, I certainly did; it was nasty looking, but today—” he paused to shine his flashlight on her face and examine it carefully, “today it's almost gone. I mean, there isn't even a scab; just a bit of discoloration."
Liz rolled her eyes, shook her head. “Well, it has been three hundred years since it happened, after all, and Tarrh did disinfect it with some smelly potion. He warned me Moira's ring was only slightly less malignant than the woman herself."
"Sounds like he really loved her,” John observed.
"Yeah, they seem to have had a strange relationship. The really weird part was the dogs, though. Even Tarrh called them hounds from Hades and I had the idea they were some kind of supernatural beasts or demons,” Liz said.
"What was wrong with them?” Kim asked.
"Nothing except their incredible size,” Liz replied. “They were bigger than any dog I have ever seen; more like lions in size, though they were clearly canine in form and they communicated with Moira on a higher level than mere dogs. It was uncanny."
"You think she was a witch?” Kim asked.
"At least!” Liz said.
"What about the brother?” John quizzed.
"Tarrh said Sean was his bastard brother and he had come to claim what he believed was rightfully his. It was fairly obvious he and Moira had a thing going, although I had the feeling Sean and Moira were as closely related as he and Tarrh. I'm not sure what that means, but something substantially wrong was going on there, aside from the fact they were poisoning Tarrh."
Their musings were interrupted by the doorbell ringing and they all headed from the dusty study to resume their explorations at a later time. Kim closed the door to the closet that hid the entrance to Ben's study and opened the front door and smiled warmly at Mark. “Good morning, Mark. Come in, won't you?” she greeted.
Mark looked at the three people who were standing in the entry together. “Well, this is some welcoming committee. Thanks,” he said as he entered. “How's our girl doing today?"
"I'm feeling much better, thanks,” Liz said. “I suppose I should confess, though; I didn't take my pill last night, but I don't seem to be any the worst for it."
Mark looked at her askance, then at John. “I thought you were going to take such good care of her,” he said to John.
"I reminded her, but she—” John began.
"It was entirely my fault, Mark,” Liz confessed. “No harm done, though, right? I mean, I didn't have any problems and I'm breathing fine today."
"No shortness of breath or trouble swallowing?” he asked.
"None,” Liz reported.
"All right, then,” Mark said, “I have a couple of other calls to make before I go to the office. I guess I should be on my way."
"Stay and have a cup of coffee,” Kim invited.
"Thanks, but—another time, maybe. If you do have any problems, Liz, don't hesitate to take the medication and give me a call,” he said.
"All right. Thanks. I really appreciate your coming all the way out here. We should have called and told you everything was fine so you wouldn't have had to make the trip,” Liz apologized.
"It's no problem, really. I was coming out this direction anyway, so you weren't that much out of the way. You should probably take it easy for a day or two, all the same,” he told her curtly.
Liz nodded. “Thanks again, Mark,” she said, then watched him walk back down the path toward his car. “Is it my imagination, or was the good doctor a little perturbed with me?” she asked John.
John raised his eyebrows, peered at her. “You noticed it, too, huh? He was unusually brief, even if he did have other calls to make. He usually will visit a few minutes, no matter who he has to go see, unless he has an emergency."
"What do you make of it, John? Was he angry because I hadn't taken any of the medication, or because I seemed to be recovering just fine without it?” Liz asked.
Kim shut the door, shrugged her shoulders. “Why would he be angry either way? It is the patient's right to refuse medication, isn't it?"
"That's the way I always understood it,” John agreed. “I don't get the way he acted. He was really cold for the Mark I've always known. Maybe coming out here gave him the creeps and he didn't want to admit it?"
"Maybe, but he acted like I had insulted him by not taking the pills. I could have not told him, I guess, but I got the impression he actually expected me to be worse and he was disappointed I was better,” Liz said. “Why would he be disappointed to have a patient who was doing well?"
"What are you getting at?” Kim asked.
"I don't know!” Liz admitted. “He was just so totally different today than he was yesterday. Maybe it was some personal problem, but if I didn't know better, I'd think—"
"What?” Kim and John asked at the same time.
"Well, Tarrh invaded Joel; maybe Mark is also susceptible to the wiles of a vengeful spirit?” Liz conjectured.
"You think Mark might be under the influence of an invading spirit?” Kim asked.
"Well, I don't know, Kim,” Liz said, “but I would rather think he was under the influence, as you put it, than believe he had some other reason for not wanting to see me recover. Think about it; he gave m
e something in that injection that nearly put me in a coma, or worse. Then he prescribed a medication I didn't take and he was obviously not expecting me to be up and around this morning. Am I just getting too suspicious because I found out Moira was poisoning Tarrh, or might there be something amiss here?"
Kim and John stared at Liz and then at each other. Neither of them said anything.
"Okay, think about this—” Liz suggested. “If Mark isn't under attack from some outside source, what is his motivation for wanting to see me harmed? Doesn't he have a good standing in the community and with his patients? Isn't he highly thought of? You are the one who called him, John; I assumed that was because you trusted him and thought he was a good physician."
"I did,” John said. “I do! He is a friend, Liz. I've seen him spend the day working at his office and then go to the hospital and make his rounds, then stay into the night and sit with a patient who was lonely or not doing well. The man is thoroughly dedicated as a doctor."
"Well, then, either this is all a coincidence, in which I don't personally believe; or he is out to harm me for some reason. As for motivation, the only thing that comes to mind and seems to make sense is that someone else is controlling his actions to some degree,” Liz said. “Is he your personal physician, John?"
"Why, yes, he is; why?” John asked.
"For how long?” Liz pumped.
"Ever since he started practicing. What are you getting at?” John asked.
"Fifteen years, then?” Liz probed.
"Yes!” John answered. He was becoming increasingly confused and irritated by Liz's questions.
"Was he your doctor when you tried to kill yourself?” Liz pried further.
"My God! Are you suggesting that he gave me medication to promote my unbalanced state enough to—Why?"
"What interest does he have in this house?” Kim asked.
"Now you are going to start?” he asked Kim. “He has no interest in this house, as far as I'm aware."
McCann's Manor Page 26