Heaven's Eyes
Page 6
“Natey?” The disbelief came through in Jake’s voice.
“I missed you!” Jake’s son called, smiling widely, his little arms wrapped around his father’s neck.
Still stunned, Jake could only hug the energetic bundle and whispered into his son’s hair, “I missed you, too!”
The whole room grew quiet around the touching reunion.
“Natey, come here,” the woman’s voice cut through the stillness.
Jake’s gaze snapped up to take her in. She looked a little older, less glamourous without any makeup on. The stress of the last couple of years showed on her face. But to him, she still looked stunning.
“Hello, Taya,” he whispered. As a quick afterthought, he set his son down and Natey immediately ran to his mother.
“Daddy’s here! Daddy’s here!”
The smile that Taya gave her son seemed strained and she knelt down and ran her fingers through his hair. “I know, baby, I know,” she said.
From the top of the hallway, Amy said, “Natey, let’s go watch your movie. It’s all set up.”
Natey looked between the different adults in the room, aware now that he held their complete attention.
“I don’t wanna,” he said. “Daddy’s here!”
“Give Jake a hug and then go with Amy,” Taya told her son and set him on his feet.
Without arguing, Natey did exactly as he was told and a few moments later, the room contained adults only.
Still reeling from the appearance of his son and ex-wife, Jake whispered, “I don’t understand. What about the protection order?”
“Suspended, for now. Nick felt it would be easier to get to the bottom of things without having that in place,” Taya replied.
Jake shot Nick a confused look. “You did this?” he asked.
With a nod, Nick said, “As soon as my contacts here found out about the killings, they let me know. I felt that it would be safest if all three of you were in the same place...easier to protect, if you will.”
Casting Ron a sideways glance and about to ask, “How long have you known?”, Jake could tell from the astonished look on Ron’s face, he hadn’t known before-hand of Taya’s presence, either.
“No one knew,” said Nick. “It was important to keep their arrival secret in case there are eyes and ears out there watching for this exact situation. Taya and Nate have a room at an out-of-the-way inn that I’m familiar with. I trust the innkeepers and they’ll be safe. You, on the other hand, are going to be harder to manage, I’m guessing.”
Looking around, Jake found a stack of boxes that would hold his weight and sat down.
“Taya has the advantage of not being a very public figure. It’s likely there won’t be much initial interest in who she is,” Nick said, then looked at Taya. “No offense.”
“None taken,” she said.
“But once she’s linked to you and Nightmare Manor, it could start getting messy.” Nick paused. “I found out on the flight here that there’s already a website that has an original image posted of your wedding invitation. The speculation has begun and you know how the rumor mill is in this town. The blogosphere will be churning out all sorts of theories in no time.”
Ron asked, “So, what’s the plan?”
“Well,” Nick replied, “I thought it would be best to make sure everyone involved with Nightmare Manor’s production team is accounted for. Does anyone know where Trent Massey is these days? I haven’t taken the time to track him down, yet.”
Ron and Jake locked gazes for a moment, but Jake shook his head, so Ron said, “Last we knew, he was living in a one-room place out near the rail yard. He took the stuff at the Manor pretty hard. I don’t think he ever really came out of it.”
Taya turned her attention to Jake. “You didn’t stay in touch with him? I thought you and Ron were keeping an eye on him, so he didn’t bottom out.” The accusation in her tone was undeniable.
Jake shrugged uncomfortably. “He didn’t want our help. We tried to stay involved, but he just spiraled farther and farther down. I do know that he tried suicide once and spent some time in the hospital afterward.”
“Suicide?” Taya demanded.
Jake held up his hands in supplication. “Hold on. You gotta understand, we were all having trouble. You and I, Ron, Trent, all of us.”
Ron mumbled, “I wasn’t.”
Jake cast him an entreating glance.
“After the Manor,” Ron picked up the story, “Trent got ground up by the media. He got sued by a couple of the families of the victims. Nothing came from it, but it broke whatever resolve he had left. His truck was impounded, he got evicted a couple times, but whenever we tried to help, he got more and more upset with us.” He shot Jake a questioning look.
Jake understood that look and shrugged. “May as well tell them the rest.”
“What?” Nick demanded.
“The last time we tried to get in touch with Trent, he shot at us.” The words seemed dragged out of Ron.
Taya took a few steps further into the room. “He what?” she demanded.
“It didn’t amount to much. He couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn if he was standing inside it with all the doors and windows closed. But we took it as a sign that we weren’t wanted, so we haven’t been back since,” Jake added in.
A pause engulfed the room.
Eventually, Nick broke the silence with a nod, saying, “OK, first order of business is to find Trent and make sure he’s alright.”
Nodding, Jake agreed, “I’ll go. I think that he’ll listen this time, given the circumstances.”
“I’ll go, too,” Taya volunteered and when Jake looked about to argue, continued, “He hasn’t seen me in over two years. It’ll help keep him from overreacting when he sees Jake. I’m sure Amy won’t mind keeping an eye on Natey.”
Nick thought over their offer, his eyes straining to pierce the murkiness of the front windows, amused at the thought of Amy babysitting. “Fine, go together, but the first sign of trouble, you get out of there. Taya, you especially.”
Cracking a sarcastic grin, Jake protested, “Thanks a lot!”
Nick shot back, “I figure whatever you get, you’ve got coming to you.”
Jake shrugged. “Think we should go now?”
Nick took all of them in with one sweeping look. “No time like the present,” he answered.
Nodding his agreement, Jake said, “I’ll drive.”
Sitting in Jake’s optioned-out Ford Raptor pickup truck, Taya looked at the leather-swathed interior, GPS multimedia console system and muttered, “Is this your newest toy?”
With a turn of the key, the truck roared to life. As he dropped it into Drive, Jake said, “Natey sure has grown. It’s only been six months since the divorce and he’s already bigger than I remember.”
“That happens at his age,” Taya muttered in response.
Traffic was light as Jake pulled the blue and black Ford out onto Main Street.
“The Centennial celebration’s coming up in a few days. We can take Natey to the rodeo. He’d like that.”
Taya shrugged, not offering an opinion on the idea.
“How have you been? Anyone new in your life?” Jake asked, keeping his tone as light as possible.
It didn’t work. “As in: any men, you mean?” Taya snapped. “Really, Jake? Do you want to go down that road right now?”
“I’m concerned about Natey, is all,” Jake said. “I know I’m not in his life right now, but I still care about how he’s doing and if you’re seeing anyone, that concerns me.”
Clearly trying to control her anger, Taya said, “Well, I’m not, so quit worrying about him. I’d never do anything to put my son at risk.”
“Our son, and neither would I,” Jake assured her.
Jake chose not to correct her again and let the silence in the truck lengthen.
When she spoke again, Taya sounded tired rather than angry. “Are you still living at the Homestead?”
“Yep. So there’s plenty of room for Natey to run and play.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Taya corrected him. “I’m wondering why you didn’t offer to let Trent stay there. It’s not like you have to worry about running out of space or anything.”
Jake sighed. “I offered to let him move in, once I saw what was happening, but he refused. Threw it back in my face, actually.”
“So you gave up on him?”
The renewed acid tone in Taya’s voice irritated Jake and he snapped, “Do I come across as that kind of friend to you? Really?”
He almost missed her whispered, “No.”
Taya quit talking and Jake felt comfortable letting the rest of the drive go by in silence.
It became evident when they entered the industrial area of town, as the quaint mountain neighborhoods thinned out, making way for shipping and storage warehouses. They crossed several sets of train tracks, as well.
Looking around them, Taya said, “Trent lives out here?”
“Last we heard,” Jake answered, pulling the truck through a run-down wooden privacy fence, whose sagging gate probably hadn’t moved in years. Beyond they found a dilapidated four-plex of studio apartments.
Jake pulled the Raptor to a stop in front of a silver and brown door that read “Bungalow 3” in tarnished bronze letters. There was an old motorcycle that had seen better days parked beside the door, under a medium-sized window with silver baking foil blacking out the interior from the glare of the western exposure.
Taya looked around as she climbed out of the truck, then caught Jake’s attention and said, “You should have tried harder.”
Steeling himself inside, Jake walked up to the door. He could feel Taya’s presence beside him. She didn’t protest as he positioned himself in front of her. Then he reached up and knocked firmly. Nothing. It took two more firm raps on the door to even cause the sound of motion beyond the flimsy wood barrier.
When the door opened a few inches, Jake barely recognized the scruffy, worn face peering out at him. Behind him, he heard Taya’s sharp intake of breath.
Before anyone spoke, the door swept open all the way and Trent Massey struck at Jake. Unable to move with Taya so close behind him, Jake took the punch square on the jaw. It didn’t have enough energy to floor him, but it did rattle him.
“Woah!” Jake exclaimed, holding up one hand in surrender and the other on his wounded face.
“Trent!” Taya burst out.
Her voice brought him to a sudden halt. Tired, pained eyes found her then and suddenly Trent pushed Jake out of the way and enveloped Taya in a massive hug.
Taya squeaked in surprise, then rolled her eyes as the stink of old body odor and unwashed clothing about overpowered her. She gulped down her revulsion and patted him on the back, trying to touch as little of him as possible.
“It’s good to see you, too,” Taya said, sending a questioning glare at Jake.
Jake stood by for several seconds, then tensed as Trent released Taya and stepped back from her. He looked from her to him, then said, “Thanks for coming by. Now go away.” Not trying to hide his gruffness, he turned away from them and walked back into his dark apartment.
“Trent, wait a–” Jake began, but Trent closed the door to only a crack.
“No. No waiting. I didn’t ask you here. Go away and forget about me. I’ll be evicted again before long and then you won’t even have to feel guilty about not knowing where I am.”
With that, Trent shut the door, enveloping the single-room studio in absolute darkness. He locked the deadbolt and closed his ears to the protests from outside. It didn’t take long for the urgent voice and knocking to fade and eventually even the sound of Jake’s truck vanished.
Trent didn’t need light to navigate his small living space. He knew all of it by heart; the only danger was the occasional stray beer bottle that may get under foot. Even that didn’t worry him, though, since a deadly fall would merely hasten what he viewed as the inevitable. He reached his broken down bed without incident and collapsed onto it, feeling the two loose springs pressing painfully into his back. It comforted him in a way. It meant he was still alive, no matter how much he wished he wasn’t. Lying there, he tried to block out the image of Taya standing on his doorstep, her blond hair backlit by the warm afternoon sun, looking like an angel. That thought inevitably lead to the last one he wanted to think about: a young woman with olive complexion, dark hair, and laughter dancing in her eyes. The death of Morgan Dameron chained his heart beyond his ability to overcome. As he relived, once again, every moment with her, he could only roll over to face the wall and sob.
Chapter 8
“Sibs”
Lower Glory, the Afterlife
It was dusk. The sun had already sunk behind the tall buildings, casting evening shadows across the city. It was now as dark as it would get, never completely nighttime, even as the days were always murky and never truly bright.
Cast in those shadows, the wide street had buildings on each side and may have been considered an alley, were it not for its substantial width. It opened onto a main thoroughfare and ended in a tall, east-facing wall, which contained the street’s solitary doors.
Over twelve feet high and eight feet wide, built out of heavy slabs of aged wood, they were an impressive sight, no matter how many times one saw them. They contained no adornments on this side, with the exception of a single pull ring for each one. When open, a full team of horses could cross through them. When closed shut tight, they created an impenetrable barrier.
A slight breeze had drawn a single sheet of paper into a swirl of leaves. The miniature twister held the paper aloft, spinning for several seconds, then carried it up and over the nearby building.
There was the faint sound of movement on the other side of the doorway, then one of the doors opened out a couple of feet and Kiah followed Kenah as she and Talethah came through. He closed the massive door behind them, marveling to himself how easily they swung. From experience, he knew that they only worked for those authorized to enter or leave this area of the Afterlife. For those placed in this Glory, the doors remained as solid as if carved in granite.
“Pol was mentioning that he heard on this last retrieval something about the rogues being part of a bigger conspiracy,” Kiah mentioned as he and Kenah walked up the street to the main thoroughfare.
Kenah hugged Talethah to her and said, “Then you should probably tell Joshua about it. He’s their Mentor. He can help them.”
The couple emerged onto the bustling street. To them, it resembled any other busy market or city street, with the exception that the hundreds of people streaming around them paid little attention to those around them.
It always startled Kenah the first few times she saw two people pass through each other without incident. She had to remind herself that even though their environment was very solid to them, those that inhabited this lowest Glory were insubstantial to one another. They could interact on all levels, except for the physical. It caused her heart to sink when she thought of her brother, a very affectionate person, unable to give a hug or receive a kiss from his wife, Amberleigh.
As they hurried up the street toward an apartment high-rise, Kenah noticed that many of the souls around them seemed content with their eternal reward. Engaged in animated conversations, smiling and laughing, they didn’t act unhappy. Kenah marveled how the human spirit could find happiness in even the most melancholy of situations.
The couple entered the marginally well-kept apartments and made their way up to the third floor. The amount of det
ritus and graffiti on the walls, floor and ceiling decreased the higher they climbed.
At room 315 they stopped and Kiah knocked. He glanced at his wife and said, “You let him know we were coming, right?”
“Yes, he should be–” Kenah stopped as the door opened and the smiling face of her rugged, handsome younger brother greeted them.
“You made it,” Levahn said, holding the door wide open. He called over his shoulder, “Amberleigh, they’re here!”
From somewhere in the vicinity of the living room, a feminine voice replied, “Well, don’t leave them standing outside, bring them in.”
Levahn ushered the family inside and closed and locked the door.
When Kiah shot him an inquisitive glance, he said, “Can’t be too careful.” Then he led them into the ten-by-ten foot living room.
Upon seeing them, Amberliegh stood up from fussing with a pink bow on a pink box to welcome Kenah and Kiah with a hug and kiss on the cheek. Then she peered down into the wrapped bundle in Kenah’s arms and cooed.
“She’s so pretty!”
Levahn stood a few feet back and watched.
“Honey, come and see,” Amberleigh said without looking away.
Shaking his head, Levahn replied, “I’m fine.”
Kiah questioned the man with his eyes again, but Levahn didn’t flinch or look away. He remained stoic and in place.
“Can I hold her?”
Kenah answered with a smile and the two women moved over to the sofa, where Kenah carefully passed the bundle to her sister-in-law. They began talking in low tones, so as not to wake the little girl.
“So, how are you adjusting?”
Kiah startled a touch, not realizing that Levahn had stepped over to him.
“Um, fine. You?”
“Same old,” Levahn replied, watching Amberleigh hold Talethah. “She sure looks happy, doesn’t she.”
Kiah agreed that she did, then added, “You know, if you worked hard to be a better man and live above your reward, you and she could–”