She offered a casual “hey” when she found them in the kitchen. As if she were just coming home from a shift at work. As if it were normal to find her dead husband hovering around her girls and it didn’t mean anything that Mason was in the background, tied up and bloodied.
“Mama!” Emma lifted her head but she never left her chair. “I don’t feel so good.”
“Oh, baby.” She rushed to her side and felt her forehead. She wasn’t warm with fever but she bore a clammy sweat and Layla could swear there was less of her there, like she was a shadow of her normal self.
“It will all be over soon, butterfly,” Asher said, “and then you’ll feel better.” He was playing his part perfectly again, as he always did in front of the girls—the role of perfect Dad. Layla always thought he must have watched endless episodes of old family sitcoms to get the body language, tone, and inflection just right.
“What will be over?” Anna asked and held on to her mother from the side.
“Good question,” Mason said and raised an eyebrow at Layla’s eldest daughter.
Layla felt it coming before Asher even turned around to Mason. There was a shift in the energy, as if the goodness in the room were sucked away.
Asher pulled his fist back, his whole body readying itself to land another punch on Mason.
“Daddy! No! Stop it!” Anna yelled. “No hitting!”
Emma Cath began to cry into her mother’s side and Layla held her close.
“Wake up,” she whispered to her daughters when Asher wasn’t looking. “Hurry and wake up and all the bad goes away.”
“I wasn’t going to hit him.” Asher lowered his fist. “I just wanted to scare him.”
“You were hitting him,” Anna said.
For the first time, Layla saw what she thought might never happen, a crack in Asher’s perfect fatherly mask. And frighteningly, she also saw a change in the way Asher looked at his daughter.
She recognized that expression, the how-could-you look of betrayal, the one that always preceded a physical attack. If he had given either of their daughters that look when he was still alive, she would have killed him herself.
She opened her mouth slightly and her jaw clicked.
“I’m sorry,” he said with a vapid smile. One that made Layla’s skin crawl. One that made both girls cling to her more tightly.
With their hands in hers, she led them to the other side of the kitchen.
“Emma, you sit here.” Layla pulled a straight back chair next to her at the kitchen counter. “Anna Kate, get the cups and let’s make tea.”
“We’re having tea?” Asher perked up.
“I thought we should.” Layla reached for the two pottery-type canisters that she had filled with petals before she left reality. “As a way to celebrate our fresh start as a family. If that’s okay with you.”
His shoulders relaxed, his chest inflated, and his chin tipped up. “I think that’s a lovely idea.” He leaned halfway to Mason. “I was just about to send you home with a few holes in you. But now I’d like for you to see me take away the mother of your child. She was mine first and she’ll be mine last.”
Layla shivered at his words and hoped the girls didn’t hear him.
Asher adjusted the chair at the end of the table so that he faced Layla and her girls. She forced a sweet smile, one that turned her stomach.
Out of Asher’s immediate sight, Mason raised a bloody hand from behind his back just enough so that she could see he had broken through the ropes.
Her heart nearly flew from her chest, though she kept her smile steady.
Asher conjured a lit cigar and drew on it. “Make me a tea, would you, Lay?”
She cocked her head to the side as though he’d given her a compliment. “Happy to.”
After placing four mugs on the counter, Anna Kate returned to the work table and shuffled through the deck of cards.
Layla placed the petals into separate cheesecloths, tied them off with string and poured hot water over them. She checked Emma when she didn’t think Asher was looking.
“Wake up, my baby,” she whispered.
Emma shook her head.
She served Asher first, then her girls and herself last. As usual.
“Mmmm.” Asher licked his lips. “What is that flavor?”
“Lavender. With hibiscus. Some rose hips and petals.”
“Delicious,” he said.
“I’m glad you like it.” The family drank sips of tea in the otherwise quiet room. Mason sat in the background like the elephant Asher was training everyone to ignore.
Layla struggled to think of a plan B in case this one didn’t work.
How do you kill a ghost?
What is true? What is real?
Mason was free. Asher’s defenses were lowering, both of which were good. Mason seemed to understand what she was doing with the tea, buttering up Asher. He’d seen how quickly Asher reacted with his black wings. By not attacking him outright as soon as his hands were free, Mason must have known that everything had to be timed just right. They may have only one chance.
Emma was fading, and Anna Kate and Mason didn’t look so strong either. Scare the girls home? Or try to kill a ghost and then go home?
“Asher, I’m here as promised. Tell the girls the truth so they can go home.”
His lips pursed and his gaze drifted to the upper corner of the room, as though he entertained the idea.
“That was our agreement,” she said.
“Mason?” a voice called from the front of the house. “Mason?”
Asher stood quickly and his chair scraped against the hardwood floor. “What’s going on? Who did you bring?”
Her shoulders shrugged high. “No one.”
She wasn’t lying; she hadn’t brought anyone, but she knew that voice too well. Everyone did.
Jordan appeared at the doorway of the kitchen and sucked in a loud breath. “Oh, Mason!” She stormed across the wide kitchen and pointed her finger at Layla. “I knew it! You did this to him. You kidnapped and beat hi—”
Asher waved to Jordan before she reached Mason. Layla watched the anger dissolve from Jordan’s face and melt into a mess of confusion.
“What a nice surprise. Can we offer you some tea?” Asher drained his mug and left it on the table. “Can’t say we were expecting you, though.”
“I was waiting in my car, and—and I decided to come in and look for Mason. I knew she had done something terrible to him.” Her expression shifted as though she recognized something was wrong. “I thought you had died.”
“Yes. Everyone did.” Asher slowly walked toward her until he positioned himself between her and Mason. “But surprise!” He ran his hand over his chest.
The closer he moved toward her, the further she stepped in the opposite direction.
“No, you’re dead. I read it in the papers.” Jordan checked behind her and continued backward. “I saw it on TV, it was a big story.” She snatched the scissors from the table and pointed them at Asher. Then Layla. Then Asher again.
Asher laughed. “You know I was just about to tell my—” He looked at Mason. “Wife.” Then he looked to Jordan again. “That rather than it being just the two of us rattling around in this old home, we should keep the kids with us.”
“No!” Layla yelled.
Anna Kate ran to her mother’s side and shared the wooden chair with her sister.
“I don’t know what y’all are up to here, but I’m going to take Mason and leave. Do you understand? Just leave us out of it,” Jordan said.
“Actually, I’m thinking it would be fun for you to stay with us as well. Sort of an extra playmate for me. Maybe you’ll be as good as your sister.”
Jordan glanced quickly at Mason, panic glimmering in her eyes. “Shut up, Asher.”
Asher grinned darkly. “How interesting…you’re still protective of your long-dead sister.”
“What are you talking about?” Mason asked Asher.
“That’s right
…I never had the chance to tell you what a lucky boy you were for a while.” Asher glanced at the girls huddled with one another in the chair. “Let’s just say that Brooke got overly affectionate whenever she thought you might dump her. She needed reassurance that she was still desirable and I was happy to oblige. At the end, when she was convinced that you were leaving her for Layla, she was never better.”
Mason’s mouth drifted open, it seemed he was unable to say anything.
Jordan shook her head as if nothing made sense and she sidestepped her way toward Mason. “I’m just going to take him out of here. Okay?”
Layla focused hard on Asher, who moved toward Jordan
“Stay away!” she yelled and jabbed the scissors at Asher.
“You’re drunk, Jordan.” Layla took her chance. “You’re also dreaming.”
“Layla!” Asher objected, his voice deep and threatening.
Mason rose up, fast and with blood red hands raised to her. “Wake up!”
Jordan gasped, her eyes wide with horror. Asher charged her, lunging and yelling, “No!”
She scrambled backward into a spectacular trip and fall and disappeared just before he reached her.
“You bastard,” Asher whispered to Mason.
Layla leaned down to her girls. “You’re in a dream. Do you see how Mr. Mason is hurt? You’re in danger here, now think of your grandmother. Go to her. Wake up!!” Her yell was loud and harsh and when she threw her arms over them, it must have been frightening enough, because they disappeared.
Layla didn’t have time to breathe any relief. Asher stalked Mason step by step, his cartoonish smile lacking humor and soul. But his steps faltered and he leaned against the table.
“What’s the matter, honey?” Layla asked.
Mason moved further away from him.
“My heart. Rapid heartbeat. I’ve never had that feeling before.” He struggled to inhale deeply and patted his chest.
“That's because you’ve never had this kind of tea before.” She nodded to his mug that rested at the head of the table.
He followed her line of sight, his eyes dark and flat. “What do you mean?”
She focused her intent again. Just as she always had when she swam beneath the ocean or flew with her own wings. Just as Dr. Waters had taught her so long ago. “It’s too late now, Asher. What’s done is done.”
He grabbed the mug and sniffed where the tea used to be. “Did you make a mistake?” His voice was thin and panicked.
“Do you remember the oleander plants we had in the back yard of our old house? The one the bank owns now?”
“You put oleander in my tea?”
“When I was gathering herbs and flowers a little while ago, I found some oleander bushes at the edge of the property. And yes, I put the blooms in your tea. Quite a few, actually.”
He hunched over with apparent stomach pain. “You poisoned me?”
“I poisoned you,” she said calmly.
“What about the girls?”
“They didn’t get any oleander tea. I saved the oleander just for you.”
“Oh, God, I feel sick.”
She didn’t feel conflicted as she thought she might. Instead, she felt hopeful, and adrenaline zinged through her, giving her strength. “Good.”
Asher’s face bloomed with red fury, so much so that he seemed to shake.
She looked around for a knife, anything she could use as a weapon, but there was nothing. Asher grabbed her around the neck with both hands and squeezed.
Layla struggled to breathe. She focused her intent on what she had wanted for a long time now: Asher dead and gone from her life.
Mason lunged for him and Layla waved him off.
Asher writhed and groaned as though something worked at him from the inside. He dropped his hands from her neck and without warning he flipped to his back, arching upward.
“Watch out!” Layla yelled to Mason and they jumped back.
A blaze of fire erupted from his midsection, causing him to release a scream, high-pitched and shattering.
The fire spread, encompassing his entire body until his screaming gurgled and finally stopped. When the flames burned out, all that was left were the charred remains of a human form.
37
Mason awoke on the floor of the Alcott Manor living room. A soft glow of early morning light drifted through the windows and a distant charred scent flavored the air.
Layla held her crying girls on the couch and said, “It’s all over now. It was just a dream, it was just a dream.” She rocked them just enough to be a comfort and all three of them held tightly to one another.
Their closeness would be the one gift that came from this nightmare, he decided. His jaw ached when he moved it and he stood quietly, hiding his bloodied wrists and hands so the girls wouldn’t be alarmed. When he turned to close the pocket doors, Layla caught his eye.
“Thank you,” she mouthed to him.
He nodded. He couldn’t at all explain what had happened the night before. He only knew that he and Layla had fought her now-completely-dead husband within her dreams. They fought him for custody of her children, custody of her life, and custody of her future. And they had won. That much he knew for sure.
He stopped in the kitchen, expecting to find Asher’s burned body in the middle of the floor. He didn’t. In its place he found a large round black spot where the hardwoods had been burned.
He made his way outside for ibuprofen and the long-sleeved shirt he kept in his truck. His shoes crunched against the mixture of gravel and shells that made up the front drive. When he opened the heavy passenger-side door of his father’s old red truck it creaked with weight and age.
Jordan’s black Porsche was parked several feet ahead, and he thought he could make out her blonde head on the driver’s side. That must have been how she ended up in Layla’s dream the night before.
He arrived at her window and found her drunk and passed out, as she had been that night when they were teenagers. The subtle scent of vodka rose from her open mouth, a half-empty bottle on the passenger floor board.
“Jordan.” He reached through the window and jostled her by the shoulder. With her mascara smudged beneath her eyes and her hair spread across her face, she looked as he had seen her before in New York, after she’d had a night out with the girls. “Jordan!”
Her eyes shot open. “Oh, Mason! Are you alright?”
He removed her hands from his arms. “You need to go home.”
“My God, you’re bleeding. It was Layla who did this, wasn’t it?” She examined his bloody wrists with the gashes that were left by the broken piece of glass. “And your face. Oh, bless your heart. Do you remember this? I’m not crazy, Mason. You were there. And her girls. And Asher! Mason, he’s alive. He’s in the manor somewhere.” She pointed to the manor that no longer appeared threatening with its fresh coat of white paint glowing soft and gentle in the morning light.
“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, Jordan. Go home. You’ve been drinking.” He nodded to the bottle of vodka on the other side of the car.
“That’s not mine.”
“Of course it’s not.”
“I’ve been here all night trying to help you and I think it’s this dreaming thing she talked to your mother about. She’s dangerous, Mason. She has to be stopped.”
“You’re right. She is dangerous. So here’s the deal.” He leaned on the open window ledge of her car door. “As long as you keep those city inspectors away from the manor, and as long as my company continues to prosper, I’ll keep her away from you. If you get in our way again, I’ll set her loose on you in a way you’ll regret. Got it?”
She nodded and her eyes widened, and in her expression he saw the same sad girl he’d felt so sorry for all those years ago. Only now she was an adult and the years of unaccountability and entitlement gave her story a depth of disgust.
He leaned close. “And let’s be honest. The only person you’ve ever tried to help
is you. So do yourself a favor—stop drinking, get some therapy, and move on. Most of us have to work from a plan B at some point in life.”
Mason buttoned his shirt while he walked back to the manor. The sound of her car engine starting was a welcome noise, but the music of Jordan’s car tires crunching over rock and shell made him smile. He didn’t turn around but when she hit the gas and the engine roared, he knew that was the last he or Layla would ever see of her.
The heavy iron door of Alcott Manor groaned when he opened it and he never looked back. He made his way through the majestic home and found Layla and her girls on the porch that faced the water.
The sun hadn’t yet risen over the horizon, though the sky was bright with oranges and yellows in announcement of its coming. Soon, its reflections against Alcott Manor would mark it as a sign of hope for Layla and her family. Its final restoration would be an accomplishment and a path forward for the Alcotts who had paid a significant price for their ownership.
Emma and Anna Kate whispered to one another on the porch swing and sipped on apple juice. Layla leaned against a pillar and faced the shifting colors in the sky. The swing squeaked its early morning back and forth, an even melody that marked the time of their movement. Mason thought it sounded a lot like peace.
“Is your tummy okay, Mama?” Emma asked.
“Yeah, fine. Why?”
“Because you keep rubbing it.”
Layla didn’t smile when she saw Mason standing in the doorway, but in that moment he did feel an entire lifetime pass between them.
Yes. From now on, he was only looking ahead.
38
“Where is Daddy?” Emma lifted her head from the oversized blanket Mason had spread on the grassy hill near the lake. This was the third time Layla’s daughter had asked since early yesterday morning when she woke up from her mother’s dream. She answered plainly every time, “He’s dead, honey. He’s not with us anymore.”
“But I know I saw him and he was angry.”
“In a dream, yes.” Layla swept her daughter’s bangs to the side and watched her try to process what very few adults could have understood.
A Murder at Alcott Manor Page 28