Ingress

by Mary Ann Poll

  “No, child, it can’t. But it is.” Josiah Williams walked forward, took hold of Kat’s gloved hand, and pulled her up.

  Kat fell against him and sobbed. She pushed back from his chest, wet-rimmed eyes glistening in the moon’s light, and then whacked him solidly on the chest in an angry blow.

  “Where have you been and why didn’t you come to find us earlier? I don’t like you one bit, Josiah Williams. I’ve been grieving for months. Where have you been?”

  Josiah grabbed her and pulled her into a warm, fatherly embrace. “I have been here, Katrina.”

  “Where?”

  “In the ravine.”

  “The ravine? No better lie to tell?”

  “I’ll explain as we get you home. You are very cold. And I hope you have some hot coffee for this old man. I have an inexplicable urge for coffee.”

  “Start talking and, if the story is a really good one and I forgive you, then I’ll find you that coffee and a blanket, too.”

  Kat let Josiah put his arm around her shoulder and squeeze. She was still angry but relief and joy had begun to take root. She put her arm around his waist and gave him a squeeze. He felt thin. If he got back in her good graces, he’d be at Grandma Bricken’s and get fattened up in a flash.

  As the two walked and Josiah began to relate his story, neither of them saw the yellow eyes glint from behind the spruce on the path. And neither of them heard the menacing growl that followed them in the night. A wolf howled and the trees went silent.

  “Enjoy the reunion,” the thing sneered, “It won’t last long, I promise you.”

  Ken and Bart stared into the dark attic. Bart’s flashlight illuminated an overturned rocking chair and an antique maple table. Drag marks through dust reminded Ken of ruts in an old dirt road.

  “Looks like there has been quite a struggle here.”

  “And we’re dealing with someone whose stronger than the average Joe.” Ken pointed to the shelving on a back wall. Items on the top shelf were scattered and spilled over to the floor.

  “Man, he was up high.”

  Ken walked over. “Hand me the flashlight. See that?”

  “Sure do.”

  The dust in the top shelf showed a clear imprint of the front half of a shoe. The zigzag treads were so defined they might as well have been set in wet sand.

  “Got the camera?”

  Bart pulled a small silver rectangle from his coat pocket and handed it to Ken. A brief flash lit the room like a flare. Ken pocketed the camera.

  They continued around the room.

  “Nothing else seems disturbed.”

  More antique tables lined the walls. Some were covered with old mining gear, snowshoes, and ivory. Others held shiny nails, hammers, and miscellaneous carpentry tools. Ken stopped the beam to illuminate the far corner of the room. A small, dark puddle absorbed the light. He retrieved the camera and another flash lit the darkness.

  “Looks like wax,” Ken said while slipping the camera into his back pocket.

  Bart took out his pocket knife and worked it around the edge of the wax until it came free. He placed it in a Baggie and continued toward the wall.

  “Pretty sure this is where the attack started. I do wonder how Gary ended up at the bottom of the stairs, though. There’s nothing disturbed on that end of the room.”

  “I’d like to come back in the daylight. May be able to see something new.” Ken looked at Bart.

  Bart nodded, then looked at his watch, unhooked his phone and hit speed dial. He heard Pachebel’s Canon in D.

  “No way.”

  He hurried down the stairs and followed the tune to the front door. Kat’s cell phone sat on the first stair of the mercantile’s porch. He picked up the instrument and stuck his head back in the door.

  “Gotta go, Melbourne.”

  Ken came to the landing on the second floor. “What’s up?”

  “Kat dropped her phone out front here. She should have been home a long time ago and called from there. I shouldn’t have let her go by herself.”

  Ken raced to the bottom of the steps. “I’m coming.”

  “Don’t know how to tell you this, friend, but you are the last person she’d want to see—dead or alive.”

  “Don’t remind me. Still, if there is a killer on the loose, you need backup. Besides, I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her and I could have stopped it. No matter what you all think, I do care about your obstinate, not-always-solovable cousin.”

  Bart stared into Ken’s eyes and Ken returned the look. Sincerity was all over him.

  “Get in. I’m already in hot water with her; this can’t do much more harm. I am really praying she didn’t run into whoever did that to Gary.”

  Terror gripped Ken. “How about you shut up and drive—fast.”

  Bart punched the gas, almost sending the truck into a spin. He slammed the brakes, pushed the column into park, jumped out and put the old truck in four wheel drive. They were down Main and to the dirt road in five minutes. Bart pulled into Kat’s drive, pushed the door open, left the truck running with the lights on, and dashed for the door.

  Bart’s mind registered low lighting and two shadows on the living room curtains. He kicked the door with his right foot. It swung open. Ken lunged past Bart and grabbed a white bearded figure he was sure he saw holding a weapon on Kat. He heard a satisfying thud as the weapon hit the floor in front of him.

  “For the love of Pete, what are you two doing?” Kat screamed.

  Ken felt hot liquid seeping into the front of his flannel shirt. He glanced at the floor and saw a large, now broken, coffee cup, and the weapon he’d been sure was threatening Kat—a teaspoon.

  Bart had come around beside Kat, holding a gun on the stranger. He lowered the gun, his eyes grew wide, and then a shaky smile came over his flushed features.

  “I’ll be a donkey. Let him go, Ken. This isn’t our killer but he sure has a lot of explaining to do.”

  Ken looked at Bart to check his crazy meter. Bart seemed sane. He twirled the perpetrator around, not quite ready to let him go. He stared into the clear blue eyes and let go, walked to the overstuffed red couch and dropped down. Ken’s eyes never once broke contact with Josiah’s.

  “I’m already on shaky ground at the Bureau. You have some explaining to do—because now I really have some explaining to do.”

  BC, having taken shelter under the end table when the ruckus started, jumped to the arm of the couch and trotted to Ken. He walked onto the familiar lap and began kneading Ken’s leg with his front claws, a loud rasp of a purr growing in volume with each knead.

  “Easy, little big guy.” Ken grabbed the front paws and stretched the cat gently out and down onto his knees. The purring grew louder as BC pulled the rest of himself into Ken’s lap.

  Ken turned his attention back to Josiah. “I saw you disappear behind a rock, actually a small mountain, into a den of demons. Why aren’t you dead?”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, Agent Melbourne. It is obvious the Lord did not think it was my time.”

  “And you’ve just been vacationing around Alaska, not thinking to let your friends know you’re alive?”

  “Not exactly. I seem to have a lot in common with Rip Van Winkle.”

  Bart took the other end of the couch. “Listening.”

  Kat escaped to the kitchen. She lifted her eyes to the ceiling, Why did he have to show up tonight?

  She took a deep breath, willed her hands steady, and then poured a fresh cup of coffee for Josiah. She brought it to him and motioned him to sit down in the overstuffed chair.

  “Thanks.”

  Kat shot Josiah a warm smile and returned to the kitchen to make another pot. Seeing Kenneth Melbourne and BC together flooded her with emotions—emotions she had successfully buried over the last few months.

  Josiah placed the coffee on the burlwood table. The spoon clinked a gentle melody as it touched the side of the cup. “Suffice it to say, the Lord intervened.”
r />   “That is not an explanation.”

  “No, it is not. But, the long explanation is even hard for me to believe.”

  “Still listening.”

  “I was almost dead from Iconoclast’s attack. An angel of the Lord appeared, a chasm opened and the demons fell into a bottomless pit. The floor closed and I was told to rest. I found a freshwater stream and cranberries at the far wall of the ravine. I ate; I drank; I fell asleep. I woke up this morning to a visit from the same angel who told me to return to Ravens Cove. I thought it best to see Katrina before I went into town. I met her coming down the path to her house. And here we are.”

  Bart and Ken stared in disbelief at Josiah.

  “More coffee?” Kat broke the silence.

  Josiah smiled and brought his cup up to meet the pot.

  “You don’t drink coffee.” Bart looked at Josiah as if he’d been replaced by an alien.

  Josiah shrugged. “Do now.”

  “Where were you really, Mr. Williams?” Ken brought them back on subject.

  “That is the truth.”

  “If that’s the truth, and I’m not saying it is, how did you get out of the ravine? The only path to it is blocked by a twenty-foot boulder.”

  “There is another path, across the ravine from the boulder. It was tricky.”

  “I’ve lived here all my life and never noticed another path.” Bart’s tone was that of an interrogator, not a friend.

  “You’ve lived here all your life and never really looked at the ravine. And, that is understandable.”

  “There is one way to find out. Tomorrow we go looking for that path. If Josiah came out, someone might have gone in. It’s a perfect hiding place.”

  “That sounds like a long shot, Bartster.” Kat said, sitting on the edge of the overstuffed chair beside Josiah, taking a sip of coffee from her favorite soup mug.

  “It’s about the only one we have.”

  Ken nodded. “Tomorrow’s taken care of. But, I need to know what we are going to do about you tonight, Mr. Williams.”

  “Do?”

  “Well, you need a place to stay out of the cold, don’t you?”

  “Kat has offered me her couch.” Josiah glanced at BC who returned the look with a cool gaze. “And BC has agreed.”

  “Here? Why not Bart’s or my hotel room?”

  “I’ve missed Josiah and would like to spend some more time with him. We have a lot of catching up to do.” Kat’s face broke into a wide grin.

  Ken’s face screamed, improper.

  Bart answered Ken’s silent concern. “You’re kidding, right, Melbourne? Even I know that Kat is as safe with Josiah as she would be locked up and under police protection.”

  Ken couldn’t come up with a rational argument. His hopes of getting Kat alone were dashed.

  Bart gave Kat a solemn look. “Someone has to tell Grandma. Not to mention Pastor Lucas.”

  “I’ll take Grandma if you take Pastor Paul.”

  “Deal.” Bart had not looked forward to his great-aunt’s reaction. He never dealt well with those tears he was sure would follow her shock, then belief that Josiah had returned from the dead.

  Bart stood and motioned to Ken to do the same. Ken scooped BC up and lowered him into the spot he had just vacated.

  “I’ll …”

  “I know. You’ll be here tomorrow to get me. Another rush on a report. Got it.”

  Bart smiled. “You willing to point out that path, Mr. Williams?”

  “Happy to. Bring your climbing gear, though. This old guy almost didn’t make it out.”

  Bart laughed then sobered. “We thought you were dead. I don’t know that I believe your story but all the same I’m glad you’re alive.” He held his hand out. Josiah grasped it and shook.

  “I’m glad to see you again, too. Didn’t think that was going to happen. The Lord does work mysteriously.”

  “Or so someone wants us to think.” Ken took one step over the threshold, then turned. “Look forward to seeing you tomorrow, too, KittyKat.”

  Kat through a dishtowel at the closed door. “Not if I see you first.” She gave Josiah a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

  “You still have feelings for him.”

  “I do. And, if I follow through on them, I’d end up doing twenty-five to life.” Kat sunk into the couch, grabbed BC and buried her head in his fur.

  Once outside Bart turned to Ken. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Kat but I don’t like how things are beginning to stack up.”

  “Me, either. But, why not say that in front of Kat?”

  “I found an arrowhead at the first murder site. A threatening statement etched into it and addressed to Kat. Thought we had a real crazy on our hands. Later that morning she received an anonymous email that reiterated that threat. Both were signed Pet. I’ve been trying to play it down as a prank. With this second murder, I’m not so sure.”

  “Why didn’t you mention this before?”

  “I don’t have the facts to back it up. And, you’re leaving tomorrow so I didn’t think you’d want to get involved.”

  “I’m not leaving tomorrow.”

  “That won’t go over too well with the Bureau.”

  “Not under normal circumstances. But, I was drop kicked out the door yesterday for an extended leave. And, now that I’m back, I think that was a blessing in disguise. I have a bit of business I want to finish.”

  “Kat does not want and does not need a fly-by-night lover.”

  “I’m not looking to be that to her.”

  “Changed your mind?”

  “I just know I have to set things right—I’m not sure what that even means.”

  Bart’s phone chimed. “Hey, Doc. You’re up late.” He pulled to the side of the narrow road and watched tendrils of snow snake across the road as he listened. His forehead creased as he concentrated on Doc Billings’ report.

  “What?” Ken mouthed.

  Bart held up a hand. “You sure?” The color is Bart’s face had gone from healthy to pallid. “Not questioning your expertise, Doc. Just can’t make sense of it. Send me the photos.” He turned to Ken.

  “And?”

  “Seems Gordy has small pinpricks in both his eyes.”

  “Some creep copying Iconoclast.”

  “If so, the perp has it down pat. The brain’s gone.”

  Ken stared into the darkness, his mind working for any reasonable explanation.

  “Well consider yourself my partner—since you’ve got nothing better to do.”

  “You mean so I’ll stay away from Kat?”

  “That, too.”

  Ken scowled. His desire to solve the mystery outweighed his need to corner Kat. “See you at Jo’s.” He jumped out, shut the door and headed for the inn.

  Kat locked the heavy door, a rare occurrence at her house.

  “What happened with you and the good agent, if I might ask? I was certain there was a romantic interest—on both sides.”

  Kat turned defeated, sad eyes to Josiah. “I thought so, too. I was wrong.”

  “Not wrong, Kat. Just not time.”

  Kat walked to the couch and purposely sat where Bart had.

  “I’m afraid that time has come and gone.”

  “You not only have feelings, you still love him.”

  “I have not even admitted it to Grandma or Bart, but, yes. And I don’t like myself much because of it.”

  “You can’t will away strong emotions anymore than you can will BC to speak. Have you prayed?”

  “Not been too into that. I’ve been trying to forget what brought me to praying in the first place.”

  “Katrina, you are on dangerous ground. You are called to be God’s child. You can ignore Him and make your life hard or you can accept Him and never have to face life’s trials alone again—and life always has its trials.”

  “I know.”

  “You know it here.” Josiah pointed to his head. “You’ll believe it when it reaches here.” He patted hi
s chest.

  “How do I do that?”

  “You pray. God will make it happen. It happened for me.”

  “I’m not sure I want it to happen. My experience with God has been nothing less than terrifying and dangerous.”

  “That’s part of the adventure.”

  “You think fighting demons and watching horrifying murders is an adventure?”

  “No adventure is without danger and risk. Otherwise, it’s a holiday.

  “I can’t believe you saw the siege as a learning lesson. I thought I knew you.” Kat’s disgust shouted through her tone.

  “Oh, you know me Katrina. I was repulsed by the murders and terrified by the evil behind it. But we are assaulted by ugliness all the time. The only difference between that ugliness and day-to-day assaults against us was it was visible. A lesson for all of us about the subtlety of sin and the horrifying consequences of its culmination.”

  “Still don’t buy the adventure angle but I’ll think about it. And, about talking to God.”

  “Please do. And do it soon. I am not sure why we are all together again, but there is a reason. The Lord had me stay in Ravens Cove and kept me from freezing and dying for four months. I am concerned we are in for another battle. A more violent battle.”

  Kat dropped her eyes to her hands. She was rubbing them together, releasing unconscious tension. Josiah had voiced what was in the back of her mind. The events of the last week—the deaths, the odd shadows she had witnessed, even the creepy feel of Old Town had been gnawing at her subconscious. She had put it off to her overactive imagination.

  “It’s not your imagination.”

  Her head shot up.

  “It’s not your imagination. I’m not sure what is happening here or why this place is such a magnet for evil, but I feel it too.”

  “I don’t have the strength to face whatever’s coming.”

  “You do. But that is why it is so urgent that you go to God. His mercy and protection are the only sure way to victory.”

  “I can’t think about this anymore.” Kat pushed herself up from the couch and went to her bedroom. She returned with two sheets, a twin-size peach-colored down comforter, and a pillow.

  “I don’t have a guest room, so…”