Entranced

by Tamara Hart Heiner

  “Thanks, Mr. Edwards!” I hung up and cracked my knuckles. Time for a chat with the lieutenant.

  *~*

  “Hi,” I greeted the receptionist as I walked in. Police officers and detectives milled just behind her desk, completely at ease. The tension I’d noticed at my office hadn’t percolated into law enforcement. “I wanted to see Lieutenant Bailey.”

  “Do you have an appointment?” She picked up the phone.

  “Kind of.”

  “Kind of?” She put the phone down.

  I kicked myself inwardly and stood straighter, putting on my confident face. “Yes, I have an appointment.”

  She gave me a look before picking up the phone. “All right. Name?”

  “Jayne Lockwood.”

  One eyebrow up in skepticism, she called back to Lieutenant Bailey’s desk. After a brief conversation, she hung up and gestured to his cubicle. “He’s expecting you.”

  “Thanks.” I pulled my purse closer and made my way to his area.

  Lieutenant Bailey stood laughing with another cop, who sat grinning on the desk, a mug in his hands. Both of them looked at me when I came around the corner, and the one on the desk stood up.

  “I’ll clear out. Good luck.” He winked at Lieutenant Bailey and left.

  I faced Lieutenant Bailey and scowled. “Why do I feel like I’m the butt of a joke here?”

  His expression sobered. “Never mind that. Come on.” He straightened the buttons on his tan shirt and led me out of the office area.

  “Where are we going?” I asked when he opened the door to the back stairwell. He stepped inside, and I hesitated. I had no reason to doubt him, but paranoia tended to haunt me.

  “Evidence room.” He turned and looked at me, waiting for me to follow. “It’s a restricted area. The fewer people who see you in there, the fewer questions I have to answer.”

  “Oh.” Made sense. I stepped into the stairwell, and the door swooshed closed behind me.

  We descended two levels into the basement.

  “Do you know anything about the symbol?” I asked. My voice echoed hollowly off the walls, and I cringed.

  “Do you know anything about the symbol?” he returned.

  “No.” I fiddled with the zipper on my purse. “Has it really been consistent? On every body?”

  He paused outside a door with the word “Evidence” in big letters. “Yes.”

  “And what does it mean?”

  “We aren’t sure yet. So far it matches hundreds of runes and signs across multiple nations and cultures. Narrowing it down will take time.” He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

  Or not. If I could see it, I had a pretty good idea where to start. I opened my mouth to ask, but before I could, Lieutenant Bailey pulled out a plastic tub and plopped it on the metal table in the middle of the room.

  “Put these on,” he said, handing me some gloves.

  I did so. “What are these things?” I nodded at the tub.

  “Personal items taken off the deceased. I want you to take a look at them, tell me if you find something important.”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Then I stepped forward and began to rummage through them.

  “Anything?” he asked.

  Anything what? I cocked my head, and then I realized he didn’t quite know how my gift worked. Maybe he thought I’d have a vision or a premonition just from touching an object. “No,” I said, opting not to explain just now. I picked up a wallet and set it down, then a key, some lip gloss. I went back to the wallet, opened it up, and searched through it. Several photographs fell out, and I grabbed them. I didn’t recognize any of the faces. I pulled a sliver of paper from the back and read the handwritten message, running my fingers over the torn edge.

  And darkness swallows the light

  When we give our souls over

  To the goddess of the night

  It was only part of a poem, but the chilling words crept into my heart, and I shuddered. “Do you know where the rest of this poem is?” I asked.

  Lieutenant Bailey stepped closer and shook his head, looking at the piece of paper in my hand. “Is it important?”

  “It might be,” I whispered, still trying to stave off the cold that had penetrated my soul. “Can I take a picture?”

  He hesitated, then nodded. Pulling out my flip-phone, I snapped a few low-res photos, then exhaled and shoved my phone back in my purse just as his cell phone rang.

  “Lieutenant Bailey,” he said, turning slightly. “Mm-Hmm. Yes. I’ll be right there.” He hung up and met my eyes. “Time’s up. Did you get what you needed?”

  Not nearly, but it would have to do. “Yes. Thank you.”

  *~*

  The house smelled like pancakes when I walked inside. I arched an eyebrow and followed the scent into the kitchen.

  “Rough day at work?” I asked Mom.

  She opened the microwave with a scowl and removed a hot ceramic of maple syrup. “Needed something sweet.”

  I suppressed a smile and helped set the table. Beth joined us just as my mom set a heaping pile of pancakes in the middle of the table.

  “Breakfast for dinner?” Beth sighed.

  “You used to love this!” Mom protested.

  “When I was five,” Beth said with an eye roll. She looked over at me. “Did you guys watch anything fun last night?”

  “Just some old chick flicks,” I said. “You could’ve joined us, you know.”

  She shrugged. “Wasn’t in the mood.”

  I eyed her, wondering if any new developments had occurred at school.

  My phone rang from the tile floor where I’d left my backpack.

  “No phones at the table,” Mom warned.

  “I know, I know,” I said, only half listening. “I can at least check and see who it is, right?”

  “I don’t know why,” Mom said sweetly. “You have to wait until you’re done eating to call them back.”

  “Or I could take a bathroom break,” I countered, backing up from the table and grabbing my backpack before I left the room. I heard Beth laugh.

  “She got you there.”

  “From now on phones must be on silent while we eat,” Mom said.

  I closed the door to the hall bathroom, drowning out her words. It was the same argument we’d been having for two years, ever since Beth and I got cell phones. Sometimes even my dad got in trouble.

  The phone had long stopped ringing. Instead, a text message popped up from Dana.

  Did you see my email???

  I slipped out of the bathroom and snuck back to the den. Mom and Beth were still enjoying their food in the kitchen and didn’t even notice me.

  “Come on, come on,” I encouraged, waiting for the ancient computer to boot up. I couldn’t take too long, or they would miss me.

  The welcome screen flashed, and I opened an internet browser. Minutes later I finally had my email account open. I ignored the other nonessential emails and clicked on Dana’s.

  Subject: Someone who can help

  Jaynie, I asked some of my professors if anyone knew anything about Latvian mythology. Obviously I can’t just come out and say that you’re a Latvian goddess and can they please help me, b/c they won’t believe me. Just saying. :) Anyway, one of my history professors suggested a professor of folklore mythology at Pace University. Just so happens he knows a ton about several different mythologies, including Latvian! Luck, right? I have a cousin going to school there. She said you can crash at her place. Here’s her number. And the professor’s. Give him a call, I’m sure he’d love to talk about everything he knows. Maybe he can shed some light on what’s happening!

  Love ya! Thinking of you, wish I could be there to solve this with you!

  Dana

  Pace University was an hour and a half away, just over the border into New York. I did a little anticipatory dance. I didn’t work Friday. It would be the perfect day to sneak away.

  *~*

  Wednesday and Thursday c
rept by, inching their way into the past slower than a snail. Friday finally arrived, and before I knew it, fourth hour was ending. I sprang from my desk and dashed for the door.

  “Hey, Jayne!” Stephen called after me.

  I waved but didn’t slow my pace. “I’ve gotta go, Stephen.”

  “Jayne.” He ran after me. “I’ve been trying to talk to you all week. Are you avoiding me?”

  “Avoiding you?” I honestly hadn’t noticed. “No, not at all. I’ve just been—preoccupied.”

  “Well, can you talk now?” He cornered me by the lockers.

  I checked the time on my phone. “You know, I really can’t. I’ve got to go.”

  “Come on, Jayne.” He gave me an impatient look. “A few days ago you popped over to my house, all ready to show me what a loyal friend you are. And now you can’t spare me a few minutes before work?”

  I relented slightly. “I’m not on my way to work. I’m going to New York, and I have to get home and pack.”

  “Oh.” He arched an eyebrow in surprise. “What for?”

  “Well, it’s for work. And I’ve really got to go. But I’ll call you, okay?” I wouldn’t have anything else to do on the drive.

  “You’re going by yourself?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay.” He backed away, gesturing to the emptying hallway. “Have fun.”

  “Thanks,” I murmured, casting him another look as I hurried away.

  I ran straight to my room when I got home. Anxiety coursed through my veins, making me jittery and unable to hold still. Lucky Mom was at work. I’d call her tonight and tell her I was sleeping over with someone. I packed an overnight bag, aware that all I had to go on was half a poem, an unknown symbol, and a mythology professor in New York. But it was something. A direction.

  Except, I realized as I grabbed my toiletries, I didn’t want to do this alone.

  It had been more than a week since I’d seen Aaron, and I couldn’t remember the last time we’d talked. Still, there was no one else I’d rather sneak off with on a mysterious quest. Crossing my fingers that he would pick up in the middle of the day, I pressed his number.

  The phone rang three times, and just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, he did.

  “Jayne, all right?” Aaron greeted.

  Well. So he was alive. “I need to talk to you.” I finished packing my bags and took a step back, surveying my handiwork.

  “What’s the matter?” Aaron asked.

  At the sound of the concern in his voice, I almost forgot I was upset with him. “Nothing.” No, I reminded myself. “Well, lots of things,” I abridged. “Meet me at Hyde Park in twenty.”

  “What if I’ve got something else I need to do?”

  “Never mind, then,” I said, my frustration returning full-force. “I’ll find someone else.”

  “Jayne? I was putting you on.”

  “Oh.” I pressed a hand to my face, feeling the heat on my cheeks. “I’m sorry. Guess I’m not in a joking mood right now.”

  “No, I’m sorry for teasing you when you’re so serious. I’ll be there.”

  “Really?” That easily, after all the ignored phone calls and unfulfilled date nights?

  “Of course.”

  Right. As if it were that clear to me. “Thanks. See you soon.”

  I hung up and reevaluated my outfit. If I was going to see my boyfriend for the first time in over a week, I wanted to look nicer. After a quick change into a tunic and black skinny jeans, I headed down the stairs. I got my overnight bag in the trunk and slammed it shut. I only had today and tomorrow to get this done.

  I didn’t even notice Stephen leaning against my car door until I walked into him.

  “Ahh!” I cried, jumping back. I pressed a hand to my chest and took a deep breath. “Good grief, Stephen, you scared me half to death.” I glanced around and noticed his black Jetta in the driveway. “When did you get here?”

  “Two seconds ago. I thought for sure you saw me pull in.”

  “I didn’t. Why aren’t you in school?”

  He gave a brief smile. “I figured I had a better chance of talking to you if I met you at your house.”

  I took a better look at him. His eyes were clear today, the emerald green even darker because of the green polo shirt he wore. Dark, casual jeans clung to his muscular legs. His face had more color, fewer shadows. “You look better.”

  “You look nice.”

  I stole a glance at my sky-blue top and stretchy denim. “Thanks.”

  He reached a hand out and looped his finger in my belt loop, pulling me closer to him.

  “Stephen,” I protested, digging my heels in to hold my ground. His grip was stronger, though. He got me up to his chest and wrapped his arms around me. For a moment I remained tense, but when he showed no signs of pushing it further, I relaxed.

  “This feels nice,” he said, holding me against him.

  I didn’t say a word, just listened to the steady thumping of his heart beneath my ear. It did feel nice, but it also felt wrong. I pulled back. “We’ve been here before. We’re not going down this road again.”

  Anguish flashed in his eyes, so vibrant that I winced. “I never meant to let you go, Jayne. I need you now, more than ever. You’re all I have left.”

  “I’m so sorry, Stephen. I can’t be what you need.” I touched his arm, letting my fingers linger. “But I’m here if you want to talk.”

  He shook his head and yanked me back into a hug. “Talking’s the last thing I want to do.”

  Aaron would be at the park soon. I remained as still as I could, waiting for Stephen to feel like he’d been comforted. Finally I took a step back. “Stephen, I hate to leave you, but I’ve got to go, okay?”

  He glanced toward the trunk where he must’ve seen me put my bag. “I’ll come with you.”

  I swallowed hard, recognizing the stir of attraction in my gut. Maybe I wasn’t as over Stephen as I’d thought. “I-I’m meeting Aaron,” I stuttered.

  He arched an eyebrow, surprise flickering over his face. “I thought you were going to New York alone.”

  “Well, I changed my mind.”

  He stepped away from the car. “I’ll call you, then.”

  “Anytime.” I climbed into the car and closed the door, but the image of Stephen and the way he’d looked at me stayed imprinted in my mind’s eye. For reasons I didn’t want to analyze, my pulse raced faster.

  My heart rate had slowed down to normal by the time I pulled into the parking area at Hyde Park twenty minutes later. I spotted Aaron’s BMW, and guilt churned uncomfortably in my stomach for my traitorous thoughts about Stephen.

  I shoved the guilt aside when I saw Aaron approaching. He wore his customary, starched button-up shirt under a sweater and a pair of khakis, which I used to find so endearing. Now I felt a flash of irritation. Couldn't he wear something normal? A t-shirt with some silly, flashy logo on it and a pair of blue jeans? Or even board shorts?

  “Hey,” I greeted, getting out of the car and crossing my arms over my chest. “What—”

  I never got the chance to finish my sentence. Aaron reached me, and in one swift motion, he tilted my face up and pressed his mouth to mine. The warmth of his lips spread through my neck and chest. The passion surprised me, but I instinctively responded, opening my mouth and returning the kiss. His hands slid from my face, caressing my neck as they traveled down my body. They paused at my hips and pulled me closer, and then backed me up against my car.

  I closed my eyes as his mouth lowered to my jaw. He planted another kiss on my cheek and then pulled me into his chest, holding me in a way that was eerily reminiscent of the way Stephen had held me just minutes before.

  “What was that for?” I murmured against his sweater. I inhaled his scent, musky with a hint of leather, and suddenly I loved everything about his scratchy wool sweater and stiff dress shirt.

  “Do I need a reason to kiss my girlfriend?” His arms tightened around me.

  “No,�
� I answered. But he hadn’t kissed me like that in a while.

  He backed away, holding me at arm’s length. His deep blue eyes flickered over my face as if searching for something. I dropped my gaze.

  “Are we okay, Jayne?” he asked, his voice tentative.

  “Yeah. We’re good.” I gave a weak smile. “Just busy, I guess. I hardly see you anymore.”

  “I know.” His eyes were still steady on me. “But you know, right, that even if I don’t call you, don’t see you, I’m thinking about you.”

  I nodded. “I know.” But what if that wasn’t enough for my fickle heart?

  Traitor, my conscience hissed.

  “What did you want to talk about?” he asked.

  “Oh.” I laughed as I realized how my desperate phone call must have sounded to him. Now I understood his passionate greeting. “It’s not about us, silly.”

  He grinned. “I didn’t say it was. But just in case, I had to make sure you know what you mean to me.”

  I chased that line of thought, my heart leaping in anticipation. “What do I mean to you, exactly?”

  He met my gaze. “Everything.”

  Everything. It wasn’t the answer I so longed to hear, but it was good enough. I cleared my throat and shook my head, trying to refocus on the problem at hand. “I’m trying to work out this thing with the suicides.”

  He nodded. “I wondered if it had something to do with that. Could Laima be changing the deaths to suicides?”

  I shook my head. “Suicide is a choice. Laima can’t make people kill themselves.”

  “Very perplexing. Anything else?”

  “Here’s where it gets a bit weird. There’s a symbol on every body so far.”

  “I think I heard about that. What does it look like?”

  “I haven’t seen it yet,” I admitted. “But there’s something else. I wanted to talk to Karta about this, find out her insight. But when I asked Laima to connect me to her, she sent me this cryptic message.” I opened my phone and showed Aaron the text. His lips moved wordlessly as he read it.

  “What does it mean?” he asked, looking back at me.

  “I don’t know.” I lowered my voice. “Maybe Karta is somehow involved in this.”

  “How could she be? And why?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t have that kind of power. How can Karta?”