The Edge of Recall

Home > Other > The Edge of Recall > Page 19
The Edge of Recall Page 19

by Kristen Heitzmann


  She wished she hadn’t given up her dad’s sweatshirt. She’d have slipped it over her now. But it warmed her in a different way to think of Smith in it. Why had she revealed that strange quirk of carrying her lost father’s and dead mother’s things around? She jolted. Was that why a ghost had found her?

  That was crazy. Ghosts were not real. And monsters were? In her nightmares he was, and just yesterday she had believed the line between dreams and reality had blurred, that the monster had escaped.

  She gripped her head. She needed the peace inside that only paring herself down and standing before God could bring. If it were not dark, she’d walk the labyrinth right now. She collapsed onto the bed.

  Why couldn’t Nan have said, “Of course no one was in your room.” Wasn’t that an innkeeper’s responsibility? Maybe Nan thought people who saw ghosts wanted to see ghosts.

  Tessa closed her eyes. She’d be happy to see nothing otherworldly ever again. How was she going to sleep? She’d be all holloweyed and ragged when Smith came for her tomorrow. She hadn’t worried how she looked before. Now she thought about it all the time. She reached back and freed the hair that had a deleterious effect on his self-control. The thought made her smile, but then her stomach clenched in fear. Why was she risking the hurt? Again.

  He should not see her. Would not. She was not like him. She had made him hope, with her beautiful drawings, with the way she moved through the field, through the trees, with her face to the sky sniffing the scents, sensing the air.

  But now he knew. She had dug up the ground, would keep digging it. She was where she did not belong, and he would stop her. She had to be stopped, and she would be, but he wanted to see her now. When she was gone he’d never see her again, and this was the time, this was the chance, and he wanted it. He’d worked himself into a run, panting with his tongue out.

  No moon shone through the purpled sky. No stars reflecting from the pools splashing under his feet. He wanted food and so he went. In season, he ate from the planted fields, corn and soybeans and vegetable gardens. Sometimes he caught fish, but mostly it took too long. On bad nights he ate the pet food from bowls on porches and lawns. Only if no pantry could be pilfered.

  He could not take from the same ones often enough to be noticed, so he always looked for new ways in. Now he had found entrance to the inn. A new pantry. That was why he wanted in there. For the new pantry. He would not go up to her, would not creep in beneath her bed, not hear her breathe or look at her face. She had betrayed him.

  Because she didn’t know! If she knew, she wouldn’t take it away. She would leave him alone and make them go. Make them go away. If he could only tell her, only show her.

  But she would scream. She had almost screamed the night before. Almost screamed when she saw him. What would it sound like, her scream?

  He reached the inn, creeping softly through the wet, dark night. It hurt to squeeze through the coal chute. But it would be worth it. His stomach growled. A mouse scuttled. He let it go. A new pantry full of food, and she slept upstairs. He could just … look.

  CHAPTER

  23

  “Bair.” Smith whispered across the darkness.

  “Mmm.”

  “I want to apologize.”

  Bair rolled with a slow groan. “Now?”

  “You were justified in your concern.”

  “About what?”

  “Tessa.” He turned. “The truth is, I fell for her pretty hard in college, though I’m not sure I admitted it to myself. I didn’t want to be strapped with someone so needy.”

  Bair grunted.

  “It’s still a challenge, but there it is. I can’t help but love her.”

  Bair lurched onto one elbow. “You’re in love?”

  Smith startled. He hadn’t expected an explosion. “I think it’s possible.”

  “You spent the night with her and insisted it wasn’t a big deal.”

  “What?”

  “In Gaston’s casino.”

  “I didn’t spend the night with her. We had separate rooms and kept it that way. I told you—”

  “What you say isn’t always what you mean.” Bair’s eyes glinted in the moonlight through the window.

  “That’s absolutely not true.”

  “You told me at the start to have a go if I liked.”

  “With Tess?”

  “You said don’t let it interfere with the project.”

  “That was …”

  Bair rolled up to sit. “I’ve done nothing more with Katy because it’s been so easy being with Tessa, no trouble at all talking to her. She listens and knows what I mean, and opens up, and—you’ve set me up.”

  Smith sat up, flabbergasted. “I never meant to.”

  “You lied from the beginning.”

  “I didn’t think I was. I’d been so wretched over Danae, and the last thing I intended—”

  “Don’t even start with Danae. I heard the way you talked to her, so conciliating, so understanding. Do you think you can keep them both dangling?”

  “Of course not. Bair, I had no idea you’d developed feelings for Tessa.” He truly hadn’t realized. Was that arrogance, selfabsorption?

  “If a mate clears the road, he ought to stay off it.”

  “You’re right. I changed horses in midstream.”

  Bair rubbed his face. “You haven’t told me how she feels.”

  His pause conveyed enough.

  “Right, then.” Bair flopped back down. “I’ll head back to the office tomorrow. You have things well in hand here.”

  Smith almost said there was no need for that, but in Bair’s mind there might be. “Is that what you want?”

  “I won’t witness another Anna.”

  Smith frowned. “You’re half responsible for Anna.”

  “Because I didn’t listen to what you said?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Well, this time I did.”

  Smith expelled a slow, pained breath. “You’re right. I see that.”

  Bair clenched his hands in the shadows. “You ran Tessa off into the woods.”

  “I don’t deny I’m lousy. I have no idea why she’s held on, but she has. I’m sorry.”

  “Will you stop that? I could see how it was from the start, from her side at least. She didn’t hide it.”

  And he’d taken the chance anyway. Smith refrained from apologizing again. Bair lay down and rolled to his other side. There wasn’t anything more to say.

  Surprisingly rested, Tessa sat up in the fluffy bed. No nightmares had wrenched her from sleep. She’d seen nothing in the dark. But now she whiffed the same strange scent she’d noticed the night before. Had someone been in her room? She crept from the bed and checked the door. Even the deadbolt was engaged.

  She washed and dressed with the thought that Smith was coming for her, but the exhilaration of that didn’t overcome the sense that she hadn’t been alone last night. She flung open the window to drive the last vestige of the odor away, then locked it again before going downstairs.

  At the desk, she asked Nan, “Could there be a leak or something that might have caused an odor in my room?”

  Nan looked up. “You smelled something strange?”

  “The same thing I smelled the night before. Could it be a gas leak or—”

  “It’s the ghost. Other people have mentioned a damp, rotten scent. One person called it the smell of the grave.”

  Tessa shuddered.

  “They have some booklets about him at the library, people who’ve seen our ghost and written about it.”

  “So this isn’t new?”

  “There’s been talk for … ten years, maybe.”

  Then it couldn’t be the monster from her dreams. But it could be whatever was hassling Smith and Bair.

  “I’m heading to the mini-mart if you’d like a lift. It’s just a short walk from there to the library.”

  “Which library do you mean?” She didn’t recall one in that vicinity.

  “T
he old Baldwin private collection. It was donated to the Methodist church down the way and fills the old rectory. Volunteers have catalogued and made the books available to the locals. Locals have added to the collection over the years. And some have added the books to theirs. Like I said, I’ll give you a ride.”

  Nan had obviously noted her car absent from the lot. And of course she’d seen Smith leave last night, and the manner in which he’d taken his leave. In no time the mini-mart clerk would know she had a thing with that handsome architect. But she might learn something useful.

  “All right. Thanks.” She’d grab some yogurt at the mini-mart and go do a little research. As they drove she called and asked Smith to wait an hour or so before picking her up.

  “Yes, all right, Tess.” He seemed abrupt, but then, she could be reading into it. Maybe she’d interrupted him, or Bair was nearby. Bair, who thought Smith wasn’t over Danae, whose cousin had tried to heal his broken heart, who had looked truly concerned when he’d seen them kissing.

  Smith had not picked up on that, but she’d seen the expression on Bair’s face. She’d talk to him today, let him know she and Smith were all right and he didn’t have to worry. Funny what a sweet friend he’d become. She was no longer outside their circle. They’d invited her in.

  But Smith’s tone had not been inviting. He might regret opening up the way he had. That was hard for lots of guys. They’d come into the group and become human clams for the rest of them to peck at. For some, it was about wresting control from the facilitator. For others, a last defense.

  Smith had said he could see spending his life with her. He didn’t know how pervasive her issues were, how much of her reality had been shaped by her therapy. Her peers had been people who couldn’t cope—like her. Dr. Brenner said she wouldn’t have a successful relationship until she’d figured herself out. She didn’t seem to have the facility.

  Smith didn’t like her talking about him to the psychiatrist. She got that. But thinking Dr. Brenner could be holding her back, keeping her dependent—that was wrong. He wanted to help; she knew it. He cared about her.

  Nan brought her to the mini-mart and, while Tessa chose a peach yogurt from the cooler case, convinced the clerk her guest could be a ghost whisperer. Tessa adamantly denied it, which seemed to only confirm the sort of humility that could draw a wandering soul. Nan had been the one to turn her questions to the supernatural, and she seemed determined to believe it.

  Tessa resisted it still, though she had thought she’d seen something. Smith had been the first to mention hauntings; Bair called it a poltergeist. None of them had found a camp or lodging anywhere near the property, yet someone had moved the level and the gate.

  That reminded her she needed to find out where Bair had taken it for repair. As Nan and the clerk continued their discussion, Tessa slipped out her phone and called the office number. Smith answered, “Chandler Architecture.”

  “Oh, I called this number looking for Bair.”

  “Sorry, Tess. He’s gone back to the main office in D.C.”

  “Again?”

  “He’s going to handle things there for a while.”

  “Oh. Well, let me have his cell. I want to know where he took the gate.”

  “I’ll find out for you.”

  “That’s okay. Just give me the number.” Did she imagine the reluctance with which he complied? She jotted it on her palm, then stepped out of the mini-mart and phoned Bair. “Good morning, Bair. I’m looking for my—” She halted at the sight of the Land Rover outside of Ellie’s. “I thought you were back at the office.”

  “I’m on my way. I stopped for, um, breakfast before leaving.”

  “Then I’ll just duck in and ask you.” She crossed the distance between Ellie’s and the mini-mart.

  “Ask me what?”

  As she hung up and pulled open the door to Ellie’s, Bair almost barreled into her in the foyer, with Katy held fast by the wrist.

  Tessa stepped back. “Where’s the fire?”

  Bair flushed. “We were … leaving.”

  “Katy’s going with you?” Her surprised remark earned a glare from the mutinous redhead.

  Bair pushed his keys into Katy’s hand. “Go ahead. I’ll … um … be just a moment.”

  When the door slapped shut behind Katy, Tessa turned back. “What’s wrong? Why are you guys flying out of here like—”

  “Ellie’s going to be a bit shorthanded, that’s all.”

  “But I thought you couldn’t be alone with Katy.”

  His face heated with anger. “Did Smith say that?”

  “I must have misunderstood. How long will you be gone?”

  “Some time, I’d say.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Chuffed.” He looked anything but pleased. “Well … I have Katy waiting.” He pushed through the doors. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Warn her … What had he—about Smith? Had they fallen out over yesterday? She pushed through the door as Bair hit the gas and backed out in one fell swoop, then tore away with tires ablaze. She stood with hands to her hips and watched them go.

  She realized she hadn’t found out about the gate, but she wasn’t going to call him now. She’d deal with that later, or let Smith. Smith. She wrung her hands. Bair had been the anchor, the friend she’d counted on to buffer her and Smith. With no third party, their relationship would have to stand on its own.

  No longer hungry, she slipped the yogurt cup into her purse and walked along the side road toward the red brick neoclassical church and rectory. Pigeons strolled the ridges of the steep gray roofs. She crossed the dewy lawn and rang the bell at the side door as Nan had instructed on their drive over.

  The soft-faced woman who opened the door hardly came to Tessa’s chin. “Yes?”

  “Hi, I’m Tessa Young.”

  “Oh, the architect. Nan Duncat called. I’m Joliet.” She looked like someone’s ebony-skinned fairy godmother.

  “Hi. Nan sent me over to read the local ghost stories, especially the newest one.”

  “Our night prowler.”

  “Prowler. Then he’s not a ghost.” Of course he wasn’t. She knew that.

  Joliet shrugged. “I don’t know how he gets through locked and alarmed doors. Seems a little more substantial to me, though.”

  “You’ve seen him?”

  “Only the books he’s borrowed.”

  “He checks books out from the library?”

  The little woman cast her a wry look. “He hasn’t signed his name or checked anything back in.” She led the way to a back section and drew several booklets from the shelf. “Maybe he is a ghost. You can draw your own conclusions.”

  Tessa thanked her, and then a thought struck her. “While I look at these, could you see whether you have anything related to a Jesuit plantation monastery called St. John’s?”

  Without hesitation, she said, “We did have. But those documents were purchased.”

  “Really. By whom?”

  “He remained anonymous, but paid enough to replace our roof and more.”

  “I see.” So that was how Rumer Gaston had come to possess the only documents she’d found so far. “Do you know what happened to the residents after the monastery burned?”

  “No. But it wasn’t a good time for priests. You haven’t dug up any skeletons, have you?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Don’t be so sure you won’t. Up in Annapolis they discovered a poor indentured servant in William Fuller’s cellar. I saw it on a history show. At first they thought it might be one of the prisoners his bunch were executing in the streets during the Battle of the Severn. But it turned out to be an ill, overworked youth, thrown down there with the garbage.” She shook her head sadly. “If you’re seeing ghosts, it might be that more perished in the fire than the monastery.”

  Tessa couldn’t resist a shudder. “I haven’t seen any ghosts.”

  “I don’t believe in them myself.” Joliet touched th
e booklets. “But there are plenty who do. Especially this particular one.”

  “Well, thanks.” Tessa took the ghost booklets written by several county citizens over to a small table near the window.

  Her throat squeezed when the first one chronicled sightings of a pale form moving through the darkness as if searching for something or someone. She couldn’t say she had actually seen a pale form in her room. She could have dreamed or imagined it. The writer claimed to have glimpsed it more than once in the twilit woods around their farm, but had never gotten close enough for a more thorough examination.

  Her pulse quickened when the next booklet described the odor the author had noticed when the ghost had been in her kitchen. She went on to say that apparitions were frequently accompanied by the smell of sulfur or smoke, but that this one left more of a moldy body odor behind. She had asked Nan if it could be a gas leak, but moldy body odor better described the rank aroma.

  The most absurd account mentioned an affinity for animals and the ability to move and behave like one, especially loping with the gait of a wolf, though it ran erect. He too mentioned an odor, described it as gamey, and found it most remarkable that dogs didn’t bark or raise their hackles as with other supernatural sightings. That writer believed the creature a wolf man, though there was no evidence of fur.

  Tessa shut the booklet. This was ridiculous. Plus it distracted her from the real monster she needed to contain—even if he existed only in her head. She slid the items back into the shelf and thanked Joliet, then slipped out her phone and dialed Smith.

  A short while later, he pulled up. “I thought you might be up for breakfast. Since Bair took the company car, we’ll have to stick together.”

  “What happened with you two?”

  “Why do you ask?” His smooth composure didn’t fool her.

  “Bair looked like fury as he dragged Katy off.”

  Smith jerked his head. “Bair took Katy?”

  “I don’t think Ellie was happy.”

  He released a hard breath. “Mind if we eat there?”

  “As long as you tell me what’s going on.”

 

‹ Prev