A Dose of Deadly Intentions

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A Dose of Deadly Intentions Page 10

by Lucia N Davis


  “Liar.” He kissed her. “Does that ring a bell?”

  “Vaguely.”

  “I see. You must need more kisses.”

  She giggled. “I didn’t know you could read my mind.”

  “I can, as a matter of fact,” he mumbled, kissing her neck. “Your mind is telling me all sorts of interesting things.”

  “Really? Like what?’

  “I think it just told me I’m wearing too much clothing.”

  “I doubt that. My mind was raised properly. Besides, it smells coffee.”

  “That coffee is far too hot. It can wait, trust me…”

  When she finally got to her coffee, it was cold. Lying in David’s arms, her body still simmering, Sara smiled. This wasn’t the worst way to spend her last days in San Francisco.

  “What do you want to do today?” David’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

  “I don’t know. We could go out. I could show you the city. Visit a museum?”

  “I’d rather be outside. But seeing some of the city would be fun. I’d like to see the Golden Gate Bridge at least. I do need to leave tomorrow. Maybe we can drive back together? Take turns? That way you don’t have to drive alone.”

  “Oh. Right. That would be nice, not to drive alone.”

  “You sure? You don’t sound excited.”

  “I—I’d just hoped we could stay a few days longer. But if you need to get back, you need to get back. No big deal.”

  “Okay then. We’ll pack up the last of your things this afternoon—that should go fast. What will you do with the bed?”

  “I’ll see if they can pick it up in the morning.”

  “Perfect. Would you like a muffin? I bought some—they’re in the kitchen.” He squeezed her lightly. “I’ll even get it for you.”

  “Sweet. I’d love a muffin.” She watched David rise in his full glory and saunter to the kitchen. Driving back tomorrow… It was soon—much sooner than she had expected. But like she had said, it was no big deal. It shouldn’t be, in any case. The bedroom suddenly felt smaller. She located her shirt, ignoring the unpleasant sensation of the room closing in on her. Time to stop being silly. Time to move on.

  David had never toured San Francisco before. She showed him the Golden Gate Bridge and took him on the ferry trip to Alcatraz Island. It was like they had never fought at all, and Sara was grateful to be able to share this city she had once loved so much. In the evening, when they returned to her apartment, it sunk in that this was truly the last night she would spend here.

  As if her sixth sense were playing up, Aunt Shelley called to see how she was doing. She was relieved to hear Sara wasn’t alone. “So much better, dear. Have you talked to him yet, about—?”

  Sara interrupted her. “Aunt Shelley, did you ever find out where Julia died?”

  “Oh, yes. I forgot to tell you. I looked through the file and found she was buried in Washington, D.C. She shares a grave with her father and her sister Alice. The grave is still there—in a historic cemetery built in the nineteenth century.”

  “That’s odd. It’s so far from San Francisco.”

  “I still have to get the details. I’ll keep you posted.”

  After they had hung up, Sara’s mind reeled with questions. If Alice and Julia were both buried in Washington, D.C., then who died in that fire? She was getting nowhere, she thought as she undressed for the night. Annoyed, she threw her dirty clothes in the corner of the room, imagining she was pitching this whole vision dream business out the window. She was sick of riddles.

  Chapter 17

  Sara is inside the house, in a room she hasn’t seen before. It looks like a study. William and Julia are standing near a desk. William looks pale and frantic. The room is a mess, with books strewn about and broken glass on the floor. Noises from outside enter freely, and as Sara looks at the windows, she notices that the glass is missing. The view is unrestricted—a yard, and above it a grey sky, with black columns rising up, hovering over the city.

  She strains to hear what William and Julia are talking about. Their voices are hushed, as if they do not want to be overheard. Finally they speak louder, and she is able to pick up pieces of their conversation.

  “…so much damage. City Hall has crumbled to pieces. Homes, buildings, with so many people in them. There’s a fire raging south of Market. It’s terrible.”

  A rumble comes from deep down, faint at first, but quickly building in volume. The chandelier starts tinkling like a wind chime in a breeze. The breeze transforms into a hurricane and a disorganized cacophony of sounds descends upon the room. Sara tries to keep her balance in the violent shaking of the aftershock tearing through the foundation. Julia grabs hold of the desk, which is dancing around and provides little support.

  Ten long seconds later, the earth gives up her struggle, and everything quiets down again. Julia lets go of her handhold and sighs.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Williams says. “Join the others outside in the yard. The servants can come in and grab whatever you need.”

  “Should we evacuate?” Julia asks.

  “I think we should. We may not need to, but it’s better to be prepared.”

  “Very well.” Julia nods. “I’ll get started. We need to tell Alice. She refuses to leave her room.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll handle Alice.”

  Julia turns around to leave, but William grabs her by the elbow. “Julia.”

  “Yes?”

  “We need to talk. You see how she is. You have no idea what it’s like for me.”

  “No idea? I live in the same house, William. I deal with her constantly. I wish I knew what was happening to her.”

  “Happening? She’s insane, that’s what’s happening. She’s talking to herself, scaring the children…” William pulls Julia closer. “It’s hard, living with her. But harder still to live with you under the same roof. I wish things could be different.” He leans in, their faces close enough to touch.

  Julia puts a hand on his chest and tries to back away. “Stop it, William.”

  His grip tightens. “I remember a time when you weren’t averse to my advances.”

  “That was years ago—before you met Alice. What a child I was. I remember trying so hard to impress you. When I think back to those days, I’m ashamed of my behavior—I should’ve known better. I hated Alice for stealing your attention. You broke my heart, and I deserved it, for I was a stupid girl. But then I met Edward, and everything changed. It was I who felt lucky. And I’ve never wanted for anything since. I’ve learned since that there’s more to life than handsome looks and money.” Julia tries to pull her arm from his grasp. “Please, let go of me!”

  William keeps his grip. “Edward.” He spits the word out. “He wasn’t worthy of you. And I, I was the fool. Alice’s beauty blinded me. Everything else paled in comparison. But no more. The children deserve a better mother, Julia. We could send her somewhere. An institution. Start over.”

  Julia’s eyes grow large. “Send her away? Never. She’s not that—” She paused. “She’s different, yes. She doesn’t make much sense at times. But her confusion doesn’t pose a danger. She loves the children. Who knows? It may just be temporary.”

  William scoffs. “I doubt that.”

  Julia jerks her arm back, forcing William to let go. “Maybe she should see another doctor.”

  “She has seen a doctor.”

  “Who didn’t help much. After this earthquake business is over, I’ll find a different one.”

  A tense look crosses William’s face. “I don’t think it’ll help.”

  “It couldn’t hurt.”

  “Knowing doctors, I dare say it could.”

  Julia bristles, straightening her shoulders. “This conversation is over, William. And to get back to your previous point, you and I could never ‘start over.’ There was never an ‘us’! The children have a mother. And they have an aunt. Two of them, as a matter of fact. But they barely have a father. Don’t pretend to be one al
l of a sudden.”

  He raises his arm and slaps her, the contact making a brief smacking sound. Her skin is aflame with a red blotch the size of his palm. She utters a short, surprised cry of pain and covers her cheek with her hand. “How dare you!” Her eyes are ablaze. “I swear, if you ever lay a hand on me again…”

  “What? Do I need to remind you that you are in my house? Living on my expenses?”

  “If that’s the case, I’ll leave. I’m sure Theresa would gladly take us in. Besides, I’m tired of lying to Alice, of watching you pretend you still love her.” She turns around and starts walking toward the doorway.

  “Julia… don’t say that,” William calls after her. He follows her. “You can’t leave us. Alice would be lost. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. It’s just, living with Alice, the way she is right now… It’s a difficult situation.” He places his hand on her shoulder. “Please forgive me. I won’t lay a hand on you again, I swear.”

  Julia doesn’t turn around. “Let’s start packing,” she says in a strangled voice. “We have other things to worry about now.” She shakes off his hand and leaves the room. William stays behind, brooding alone in his study.

  Sara holds her breath. William has turned around and seems to be staring directly at her. She winces. His eyes are devoid of warmth. An icy tingle creeps down her spine as she wonders if he can see her. He takes a few steps in her direction. Closer now, the intensity of his gaze even stronger. It envelopes her like a frosty sheet. As he takes another few steps, her bladder involuntary constricts. “Please let me wake up,” she whispers, squeezing her eyes shut. She feels him right in front of her. Then there is a touch, barely noticeable yet at the same time burrowing through her, chilling her to the core. Any memory of warmth is momentarily forgotten, and nothing but freezing cold emptiness stretches out before her, without no end in sight.

  Sara opened her eyes with a gasp. It was dark in the room. Shivering, she moved her limbs, reassuring herself she was still in one piece. Next to her, David breathed rhythmically, his body radiating warmth. She quietly got up to fetch a glass of water, turning on the lights as she made her way through the empty apartment. Once in the kitchen, she remembered that all the glasses were packed, so she filled her water bottle instead. Her teeth chattered on the plastic.

  William’s touch had been a violation—of her body, first and foremost, but more than that. It felt wrong. Unnatural. She shuddered again.

  In the living room she found a sweater in her duffel bag and a pair of thick socks. Then she retrieved her computer from her backpack and typed up a detailed report of the dream. She was fairly sure it had been sometime during April 18, 1906, the day of the earthquake. Going over the argument, she thought she understood why Julia felt guilty. A past full of sisterly envy, and keeping Alice in the dark about William’s distasteful propositions—it was enough to presume that Julia considered herself a less than stellar sister. Sara could hardly imagine anyone vying for William’s attention. In fact, it seemed much better not to have it at all.

  “Sara?” David had stumbled out of bed. “I saw the light. Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Just making some notes.”

  “Uhmhuh, sounds good.” Barely registering her answer, he returned to the bedroom.

  She heard him fall back into the bed with a grunt. The eagerness with which he surrendered to sleep made sense, considering the simplicity and straightforwardness of the activity for him. It made her jealous at times. She finished her notes and tiptoed back to the bedroom. Getting in bed, she inched toward David, letting his warm body chase away her fears. Maybe she could get a few more hours of sleep. The foghorn was blowing again, as if heralding her last night in the city. She listened to it for a while, until she, too, entered a blissful, dreamless sleep.

  Chapter 18

  Back in Dunnhill, life moved at its usual meandering pace. The tourist season was at its peak, with outdoor activities galore and groups of people, young and old, passing through the village each week. Last winter Sara had exchanged her cabin near the old village proper for a newer apartment on the resort side. It provided more luxury and opportunity for social interaction, but the quickly changing crowds offered little in the way of consistency. The tourists were on a break from real life, cramming their itineraries as full as possible before leaving again, just as hastily.

  Even the workers were seasonal. She had made a few friends, but they drifted in and out like the tide, without any hint of permanence. Some would disappear for months, while others would leave and never return. The village proper had felt more solid, with family ties and history, but it was very small and lacked diversity.

  Sara had too much free time on her hands. School had not started yet. Other than a quickly scheduled day trip to Seattle, she had remained in Dunnhill after she and David returned from San Francisco. There was only so much she could do as a non-outdoorsy woman in this outdoorsy place. Initially when she had arrived here a year ago, she had tried to start up a freelance writing career, but once she began subbing for a school in a nearby town, the urge to write had dissipated. What she really wanted to write about was locked deeply away. And writing about anything else seemed trivial.

  This afternoon, however, David was taking her for a hike. The area was very beautiful, with lots of good trails, and he knew them all. With Sara being so accident-prone, it was a bit of a challenge to find activities she felt comfortable trying. Hiking was one of them.

  She pondered her reflection in the mirror, even though her outfit was pretty standard these days—shorts and a T-shirt. Her thick wavy hair was braided, and her deep-blue eyes—the only physical trait she had inherited from her mother—were lined with long lashes. She noticed, not without pride, that living here for a year had changed her body; her muscles were more defined, her stamina had improved, and overall she felt healthier. The door buzzer let her know David had arrived, and she quickly appraised herself once more before grabbing her water bottle and running out to meet him.

  He was waiting in front of her building, talking on the phone with a client. She climbed into his pickup truck, waiting for him to end the call. A few minutes later he joined her in the truck, leaning over to give her a quick kiss.

  “Sorry about that—business is booming.” He started the car. “How was your morning? You were still sleeping when I left.”

  She usually spent the night at his place, which meant a lot of shuttling back and forth between their apartments. “It was okay. I did some reading. Talked to Phoebe.” She had called Phoebe a few times since she got back to Dunnhill, but even her cousin seemed very far away now. Their lives were so different.

  “What did you guys talk about?”

  “Oh, you know. Stuff.”

  David laughed. “No, I don’t know, but now I’m not sure I want to.”

  “Probably not. We did talk about how weird it is that I haven’t had any more dreams since coming back here.”

  “Well, maybe you’ve seen all there is to see. Maybe it’s done.” He sounded hopeful. “No more fire alarms and such.”

  “That would be nice—no fire alarms. I don’t think it’s done, though. It’s strange; it’s almost like being here has severed the connection with my great-great-grandmother. That’s never happened before.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t like it here.”

  He had meant it as a joke, she could tell, but he might not be so far off the mark. Her great-great-grandmother had left Dunnhill with some painful memories. “You know, you could be right.”

  David stopped the truck and parked at the trailhead. “Don’t get any ideas now,” he said, pulling her close. “You’ve only been back for a week. Please don’t run off again. I’ll need a second job to pay for the plane tickets if I have to retrieve you every time.”

  She kissed him. “I won’t. Don’t worry,” she said. “Julia will just have to make it back here if she wants me to help her.”

  They left the truck and started walking. Despite being in its final thr
ows, summer was still going strong. The day was warm and sunny, and a lack of rain had turned the vegetation dry and crispy. It was quiet; most animals were sheltering themselves from the sun. A fine layer of dust collected on their shoes, and soon it rose above their socks, sticking to their sweaty skin.

  The trail went up to a vista point Sara had not been to before. After two and a half hours of brutal ascent, they made it to their destination. The view was amazing and well worth the effort. Jagged granite pinnacles shot upward—grey peaks stabbing the blue sky, their firmly planted base cradling a small lake. The water was blue with hues of green, reflecting the firs along the edge. In between the dark green were small patches of burned ochre, the occasional dead tree still standing, waiting for its roots to give out.

  David pointed to some white smudges on a cliff in the distance. They were moving. “Mountain goats,” he said as he took a seat on a large rock.

  She had seen the animals before, closer than this. They were quite large, with powerful, sturdy legs and broad chests. Despite their bulk, they were surprisingly nimble. She loved to watch them but preferred to keep her distance from their pointy horns. They were not aggressive, but every now and then they harassed unsuspecting campers for their urine—or rather, the salt it contained. Around here, peeing out in the open could earn a person a few new best friends.

  She sat down next to David.

  “I love this place,” he said.

  Sara had to agree. It was perfect. She leaned back and placed her hands on a rock behind her.

  David cleared his throat. “You know, Sara, I was thinking—”

  Sara yelped and pulled back her hands, jumping up from her seat. Something slithered away from where she had been sitting. “A snake! It touched me, ugh!” She rubbed her hand with force, trying to wipe away the sensation.

  David jumped up too and checked her hand. “Did it bite you?”

  “No. It slithered across my hand.” She pulled an ugly face. “Gross! I hate snakes. I mean, they’re fine—I know they live here. I just don’t want them to touch me.”

 

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