Jackal

  She stepped through the door and entered a large, rustic, log-cabin-type room with tables in the center and booths along three walls. The fourth wall had a counter lined with stools and access to the kitchen behind it. The diner was empty at this hour, except for an elderly couple parked in a corner booth. The old man played checkers solo as his companion snoozed, her head bobbing, quietly snoring.

  A fiftyish waitress—red-haired, heavily made-up and clearly hoping to look thirtyish—sat cleaning her nails and humming. She looked up and spotted Karla standing by the door. She shoved the nail file into an apron pocket and flashed a well-practiced smile “Welcome to Pines. Pick a place and make it your own.”

  “Thanks.” Karla found a table that overlooked the entire place and sat down.

  “Menus are on the table.”

  “What do you recommend?”

  “Beef stew.”

  “Okay. Beef stew, please.”

  “To drink?”

  “Iced tea.”

  “Coming right up.”

  The front door of the diner flew open and a large middle-aged man entered. He’d been working hard at something that induced heavy sweating, and it showed. He cheerfully greeted everybody with a tip of his cap.

  “Hey, Darlin’,” he said to the waitress, “yer baby’s home and he needs some o’ that good ol’ mother’s milk. Ice cold and foamin’.” He ambled over to where the elderly man sat and immediately picked up on the game of checkers. The old woman didn’t stir and continued snoring.

  The waitress slammed a bottle of beer down on the counter and yelled. “Ned, come and get it if you want it.”

  Ned strutted over to the counter. “Sure thing, my Elisa. Anything you ask, darlin’.” He reached toward her, but she spun away and strode toward Karla with the glass of iced tea, which she placed in front of her.

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it. Stew will be right up.” She sashayed back toward the kitchen, swaying her hips with the clear intention of enticing Ned.

  “You keep that dance up, Darlin’.” He winked and returned to the checkers game.

  Moments later Elisa emerged from the kitchen carrying a bowl in one hand and a breadbasket in the other. She set them in front of Karla. “Anything else, honey?”

  “No, thank you. But maybe you could tell me where I could find the McKenzies.”

  “Which ones do you mean?”

  “The McKenzie family, the one whose name is on the main street.”

  “Are you a relative or something?”

  “No. I’m a reporter and I’m doing a story on the town and the McKenzie family.”

  “You’re too late for that. They’re all gone or dead. Nothing left of them—except for Mary Ellen. But she ain’t really a McKenzie.” She waited in silence, expecting Karla to react.

  Karla squinted at her with curiosity. “Mary Ellen?”

  “She was Martha’s babysitter. Jennifer’s too. And the boys.”

  “Jennifer?”

  Elisa cocked her head. “Martha’s sister.”

  “Oh, that Jennifer.”

  “’Course, I haven’t seen her in over a year, so could be she’s dead.”

  “You mean Jennifer?”

  “No, Mary Ellen,” Elisa said impatiently.

  “I get it.”

  “Damn, Ned.” The older man banged the table and proceeded to arrange the checker pieces while Ned guffawed.

  Startled by the noise, both Karla and Elisa looked toward them.

  “Be right back, Jer.” Ned stood up, grabbed his beer, and walked toward the two women.

  “You looking for Mary Ellen? Oh, she’s alive all right. I fixed her water heater ‘bout six weeks ago.”

  “Could you tell me how to get to her house?”

  “Sure, if ya really wanna go all by yerself up to that lonely cabin. It’s clear at the top o’ the mountain. And you’re aware what happened up there?”

  Karla nodded courteously in the hope that Elisa and Ned would keep talking.

  “Those are silly ol’ stories made up by a bunch of scared old fools.” Elisa smirked. “Mary Ellen doesn’t mind. She’s lived there all alone for years.”

  “Yup. All alone.” Ned lowered his voice in mock suspense. “Surrounded by ghosts.”

  Karla ate in silence as Elisa and the man glared at each other.

  “She’s way smarter than you and your useless lot hangin’ around bars and diners.” Elisa made a swift turn and marched off with a pronounced sway.

  Ned laughed and swatted Elisa as she went by. She giggled.

  “Wow! That woman can get me goin’.”

  “So,” Karla said to get his attention, “can you tell me how to get there?”

  “Sure. Take the first road to the right off of McKenzie Street. It’s called Summit. You can’t miss it, even in this weird fog. The road dead-ends at her house.”

  He winked at her and headed back to his checker game.

  Karla finished her stew and walked toward Elisa. “How much do I owe you?”

  “Ten fifty.”

  “Is there a County registrar anywhere near?”

  “Yeah, a couple of doors down the street.”

  “How about a newspaper office?”

  “Same place.”

  “Thanks for everything. The stew was delicious.”

  She left the diner as a cold evening breeze swept along the main artery of Aldercrest. Shivering, she scurried down the street. As she turned the corner she bumped into a man. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “No problem,” James answered.

  “James!” Sarah sat up in bed. “My, God. James is there.” She reached for her cell phone and dialed.

  “Mm?” a groggy Conrad answered.

  “James is there,” Sarah blurted out. “He’s there. He bumped into Karla.”

  “Sarah, please. You realize it’s two-thirty in the morning?”

  “He bumped into Karla.”

  “Where—”

  “I dreamed it. He’s there.”

  “I get you that James is there. But where is there?”

  “Aldercrest. I’m going there.”

  “Calm down, Sarah. A place named Aldercrest doesn’t exist.”

  “I’m aware of that, but I’ll find the real place. Martha finally showed me a glimpse of where I need to go.”

  “Martha?”

  “Yeah, she’s the one talking to me through the book. It’s her book. Well, sort of. Her lover wrote those poems for her.”

  “Wow! Lots of information since we last spoke.”

  “They had an affair and he was a poet.”

  “How—”

  “She showed me a glimpse of their love.”

  “A couple of pieces of the puzzle have fallen into place.”

  “James is in Aldercrest—”

  “But—”

  “I’m well aware that’s not the real name. Nevertheless, they’re both in the same town, Clear Lake, that’s the real name. Karla saw a sign on the road.”

  “But it could also be a false one.”

  “No, Clear Lake exists, I saw it on the map when I was looking for—”

  “That doesn’t mean that’s where they are.”

  “She showed me James, so clearly that’s where I need to be. I’m leaving right now. It was nighttime there and it’s nighttime here. I have to catch up with them. You don’t need to come here. I’ll be with James.”

  Conrad tried to slow her down. “Hold on Sarah, I don’t like the sound of this. You need to calm down and figure things out.”

  “I don’t have time for that. I’m checking out. I’ll leave a note with my goodbyes for the girls. I’ll call you when I get there.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t wor
ry, I’ll be with James. He’ll take care of me. Love you.”

  She rang off, grabbed the hotel telephone from the nightstand, and dialed the front desk, but there was no answer. “Oh, that’s right. No one’s there till the morning. I’ll leave them a note saying that something came up and that I had to check out during the night.”

  Her cell phone rang. She glanced at it and saw Conrad’s smiling face, but before she could answer, the phone growled, the image disappeared, and static replaced his face.

  “Martha,” she protested, “don’t interfere! Let him through!”

  The phone grumbled.

  She snatched up the hotel’s phone. No dial tone, only static.

  Frustrated, she got her suitcase, gathered all her belongings and threw them inside. She wrote a couple of quick notes to Sonia and Iris on the hotel’s letterhead, and put them in her purse along with her cell and the book. She dropped the notes off at the front desk, and left.

  She got into her car and took off. The streets of Eureka were deserted at that time of night, providing her with a moment to gather her thoughts. “C’mon,” she whispered, “time to give me more clues, Martha.”

  TIMES

  So strange a thing

  I seem to feel

  At times

  Almost as though

  I heard myself

  Then turned

  And found me

  Gone

  And wondered

  Why I left

  Sometimes I reach

  To touch a rose

  And

  Though I hold it

  In my hand

  I touch it not

  Somehow I stop myself from

  Feelings that I feel

  Or seeing sights

  That I can see

  The moon now hides

  Behind the clouds

  The mountains roam

  In fog

  My clumsy hands

  Cannot hold flowers

  And so I go

  Alone

  “For crying out loud, Martha! The last thing I need is a poem bouncing around in my head!” Sarah drove into the dark, Eureka’s lights fading away in the rear view mirror. “I’m on the road at three-thirty in the morning because you need me to help Karla, and I have no idea if where I’m heading is correct. I get the urgency, but a little help won’t hurt.”

  Silence.

  “I’m going to take your silence as confirmation I’m heading in the right direction.”

  11

  The Search

  Sarah squinted as she struggled to follow the road through a blanket of heavy fog. “This is ridiculous. Martha, you need to be more helpful. Why did we veer off back there?”

  Martha remained silent.

  “This fog keeps getting thicker and thicker. You better tell me if we’re still heading for Clear Lake or you’re taking me somewhere else.”

  Eventually, the lack of visibility forced her to find a safe place and pull to the side of the road. She grabbed her cell phone, hoping to pinpoint her location, but there was no reception.

  “This is your doing Martha, and I don’t like it. I can’t help if you keep me in the dark.” She looked at her watch. “All I can do is wait it out. Sunrise should be around the corner.”

  She leaned her head back on the headrest, sighed with exasperation, and closed her eyes.

  Enlightenment

  Karla walked briskly along McKenzie Street until she spotted it, a small sign dangling above a doorway. Registrar, Notary Public, Printing, Copies. Aldercrest Mirror. Joseph Klass, Editor. The door itself had another sign: Open Daily 9:00 A.M. - 5:00 P.M.

  She sighed, turned away, and returned to the lodge. She reached the parking lot in time to catch a glimpse of what looked like Andrew’s metallic-blue Jeep Wrangler speeding by. She froze in her tracks, wondering if Andrew might be at the wheel. She ran to her car, revved it and gave chase, but the Jeep had darted too quickly up the road and eluded her. After a few hundred feet, she gave up. Resigned, she turned around and headed off in search of Summit Road.

  Minutes later, she turned onto the road and ascended a steep hill. Trees arched overhead, forming a tunnel over the dirt road that twisted and turned incessantly. Wisps of fog cast eerie shadows across the road as the crescent moon shined here and there through the trees.

  As if the incessant curves weren’t enough, the road made a sudden sharp turn and Karla faced an even steeper incline. She advanced with caution as she climbed the twisting road.

  The fog became denser. Karla clung to the wheel, her chest almost touching it. The car’s fog lights provided little visibility as she crept along, unable to find even the edge of the road.

  Abruptly, the side of the mountain shot up in front of her. She stopped the car and turned off the engine. She peered in all directions but saw only fog, a few boulders, and the occasional tree branch.

  “He did say at the end of the road. This must be it.”

  She pulled a flashlight from the glove compartment, and cautiously exited the car. Unable to discern her surroundings, she crept around the car in search of a driveway or any sign of a house. She found nothing.

  Faintly visible through the fog she spotted two dim lights above her in the distance. Gingerly, she trudged up the mountain toward the glowing lights, her eyes on the ground watching every step she took.

  Abruptly, the lights went out.

  Karla froze.

  Other than the beam of light from her flashlight, only darkness, dense fog, and a chilly breeze surrounded her. “Hello? Is there anyone there? I need help!”

  No response.

  She continued to advance cautiously in the direction where the lights had been, following the beam from her flashlight.

  A makeshift stone step appeared. She moved closer, and another appeared immediately above it. She looked about for a structure, but the fog remained so thick that all she could recognize was the rugged mountainous terrain covered by dense water droplets and moss.

  She took one cautious step up, and then another, but on the third step she slipped on the wet stone and slid to the ground. She put the flashlight in her mouth, crouched, and climbed the makeshift steps on all fours. Much to her surprise and relief, the next step she found was made entirely of wood.

  As her gaze searched upward, the silhouette of a structure, barely distinguishable in the gloom, took shape. She rose and climbed the last few steps until she stood on wooden planking. “A porch?”

  She pointed her flashlight first right and then left in search of any sign confirming that indeed her feet stood on a porch. The plank was lined with old boxes and crates stacked on top of each other. She aimed the beam of light right in front of her and, as she inched forward, a door opened and a blinding light burst through the fog.

  Startled, Karla stepped back and dropped her flashlight.

  “Stay where you are,” warned a raspy female voice. “I got two barrels aimed right at your gut.” A second later, the shotgun poked Karla in the stomach.

  “Oh, my God. Please, please don’t shoot. I mean you no harm.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Are you Mary Ellen?”

  “I got the gun, I do the asking.”

  “I’m looking for a woman named Mary Ellen.”

  “Why? Who are you?”

  “I’m a reporter. My name is Karla Jordan. I’m doing a story about the McKenzie family and I was told that you could give me some information about them.”

  “Who else is with you?”

  “I came here by myself.”

  The shotgun retreated from her stomach, much to Karla’s relief. “That was a damn stupid thing to do,” the raspy voice said.

  “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

  The woman with the shotgun didn’t make a sound for
several seconds.

  All that Karla could distinguish against the blinding light was the woman’s small silhouette, as she stood motionless in the open door with the weapon resting across her body.

  “Please,” Karla said. “I didn’t mean to inconvenience you. If you’d like, I’ll go back to my car and when the fog lifts I’ll leave and come back tomorrow. That is, if you are Mary Ellen.”

  “What’s your interest in the McKenzies?”

  “I read some noteworthy stories about the town and my publisher suggested there might be interesting angles to cover.”

  Silence.

  Karla squinted, trying to make out the woman behind the shotgun.

  “Interesting angles? Damn the noteworthy stories.”

  “Are you Mary Ellen?”

  “Of course I am, and you sure as hell know I am. Don’t imagine for a minute you can pull one over on me, young lady.” She snorted. “No sense shivering out here in the cold. You might as well come in.”

  She lowered the shotgun, turned, and disappeared inside the house.

  Karla followed her across the creaking porch.

  “Well, thanks for nothing, Martha.” Sarah frowned. “Karla is deep in the fog in some godforsaken place up some mountain, and I’m in the same soup, parked on a godforsaken road with no idea where it leads.”

  The dense fog had not lessened with the sunrise. However, with the light of day, and bolstered by a brief rest, Sarah started the car and continued to follow the narrow mountain road. As she proceeded, she spotted a road sign, but the fog made it impossible to read. Nevertheless, she continued forward. A few minutes and a handful of curves later, she pulled into the roadside motel on the outskirts of a small town.

  The motel in no way resembled the Mountain Lodge Sarah had witnessed through Martha’s tale. This one consisted of small, isolated cabins that stood parallel to each other, all painted in white with red A-frame roofs. Each cabin had a small driveway leading to the front door and two parking slots next to it.

  Sarah pulled up in front of a cabin with a red neon sign that blinked “Office Open.” She got out of the car and approached the door. As she reached for the knob, the door flew open. A large heavyset man wearing a Hawaiian shirt and straw hat stepped out, bumping into Sarah.