Brimstone

by Tamara Thorne

  “I’ll get a bowl,” Holly said.

  “No need. Look in the other bag. I bought him his own bowls.”

  The kindness almost brought tears again, but she refused to let them fall. “Thank you.” She filled the dish and set it on the floor by the water bowl. Fluffy bounded down.

  “I got a few cans of food, a catnip mouse and a ball.” Steve placed the items on the table. “And here’s a litter pan and a sack of Jonny Cat.” He smiled. “I almost bought a little bed, but then I thought he’d probably sleep with you. Chester always sleeps with me.”

  “Chester?”

  “Chester’s my roommate. He’s almost as big as Fluffy and looks a lot like the cat on the litter bag, only with longer fur. We have dinner together most nights,” he added as Fluffy returned to the table and batted at the catnip mouse before picking it up in his teeth and running off with it. “Is there anything else you need?”

  “I don’t think so. Thank you.”

  “How about a Dr. Pepper?” Steve pulled two bottles out of the bag.

  “Yes, please.” Holly picked up the litter box and bag of Jonny Cat. “I’ll be right back. There’s a bottle opener in that first drawer and cookies on the counter.”

  They sat at the table sipping sodas while Fluffy batted the catnip mouse around. Twice, he’d picked it up and dropped it at Holly’s feet. She chuckled as she tossed it for him. She hadn’t known that some cats liked to play fetch. Steve watched, his heart breaking for her. He only knew what Peg had told him; it wasn’t much, but it was enough.

  “She didn’t look asleep,” Holly said.

  “She?”

  “Becky. I saw her. I always heard people look asleep when they die. Becky didn’t.”

  “Holly?”

  She wouldn’t look at him.

  “I’m sorry you saw that. I know it’s hard.”

  She stared at her hands. “How do you know?”

  “Well, when I was about your age, I saw our neighbor, Mr. Rogers, sitting on his front porch one evening. I waved but he didn’t wave back. He was old; I just thought he was dozing. But he was still there the next morning and I wondered if he’d slept in his rocking chair. I yelled hello but he didn’t answer. Something felt wrong so I walked up on the porch and tapped his shoulder and said his name. He toppled over. I just stood there and stared. He was so stiff he looked like he was still sitting in the chair. His face was - well, like you said, Holly. He didn’t look asleep.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Well, I backed away and ran home and told my parents. Later we found out he’d had a heart attack the day before.” He paused. “But do you know what the worst part was?”

  She shook her head.

  “I thought that it was my fault that he died.”

  Now her eyes met his. “Why?”

  “Because I didn’t check on him that first night. I thought he might still be alive if I’d paid attention. That maybe I could have saved his life.”

  “I feel like that, too. About the Grangers.” She hesitated. “But it’s worse. Like I told you last night, I knew I had to leave. But I should have told them to leave, too.”

  “Even if you had known to tell them, do you think they would have listened?”

  Holly considered. “Probably not.”

  “It’s called ‘survivor guilt,’ Holly. I had it and so do you. It’s natural and normal.”

  “You mean I feel guilty because I’m not dead, too?”

  “Pretty much. And you can’t do much about it except wait for it to go away. It will, I promise.”

  Holly looked dubious. “I don’t think s-”

  Fluffy jumped on the table and meowed.

  Steve scratched him behind the ears. “Holly, you did save a life, you know.” The cat head-butted his cheek. “Right Fluffy?”

  “You mean-”

  “This guy, right here,” he said as the cat trilled and purred. “You saved his life.”

  “All I did was not notice that he sneaked out when I left. He could have died in the storm.”

  “But he didn’t, Holly. He’s here now because of you.”

  “I guess.”

  “You had a feeling you needed to leave. I think Fluffy maybe had the same feeling. Animals are smart that way. If you hadn’t been there to open the door, he would have been trapped. Holly, you saved his life. Think about that. You saved him.”

  A ghost of a smile appeared on her lips as she reached out and stroked the cat. “I guess.”

  “No guessing. You did. And now he’s here with you. You’re tied together forever.” He smiled. “Will your grandmother let you keep him?”

  “I think so. At least if I get to stay. But if I have to leave, I can’t. Cherry’s allergic.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “What will happen to him if I have to leave?”

  “Don’t worry about that. Chester and I would welcome him.”

  She wiped her eyes and smiled. “Really?”

  “Really.” The cat batted the little ball off the table and streaked off after it. “It’s very sad that the Grangers are gone, but Holly, I believe you were saved for a reason. And so was Fluffy.”

  42

  The Tea Party

  “Thank you, Frieda,” Delilah said as tea was served. Though outwardly composed, she was frazzled as she looked around the table at her guests. All were dressed in black. At Adeline’s suggestion, she’d invited them back to the penthouse for refreshments following the funeral. Addie, Ben Gower, Stephen Cross, Abner Hala, and Holly sat around the table. All were friends of the Grangers, but the real reason they were here was that Adeline thought they’d be able to help figure out what to do about Henry Hank Barrow and the missing book.

  Adeline had insisted that if they didn’t find the book and their grandfather captured Holly’s power, it would destroy her, and make Henry Hank unstoppable, and that was a chance that they couldn’t take. As much as Delilah didn’t want to listen, as much as she didn’t want to believe anything her cousin said, she couldn’t discount it. What if Adeline was right?

  But now, as she nodded at each somber guest, Delilah wondered why she had agreed; the days and nights since the Granger tragedy had been quiet. Neither Holly nor Steve had reported any strange incidents or sightings in the hotel. She believed them; Holly’s color had returned and her eyes had lost the hollow look she’d had from lack of sleep.

  The Grangers’ deaths had been tentatively attributed to a freak gas leak from an old tunnel running under their property. Maybe, Delilah thought now, they should leave well enough alone.

  But here we are.

  Holly caught her eye and gave her a sad little smile as she sipped her tea. She hadn’t cried at the services, but had stood hand-in-hand with Delilah as brave as a soldier - despite the fine tremble of her hand.

  Most of the town had attended the funeral; the Grangers had been popular, active members of the Brimstone community. And not only adults had come - the children’s friends came out en masse. There must have been fifty kids there, and that was the saddest thing of all, save for the small caskets of the children.

  “I’m glad to see all of you,” Delilah said, “but I’m sorry we’re here under such sad circumstances.”

  They responded with polite murmurs and Delilah realized that Abner and Ben, and possibly even Steve, didn’t know why they’d been invited. She should have explained.

  Only a few days ago - just before the original meeting with Adeline was scheduled - Delilah had seriously considered packing Holly up and taking her away on an impromptu vacation - a month in Hawaii, perhaps. She’d gotten as far as picking up the phone to call her travel agent before realizing that without Charlotte’s permission, she couldn’t do it - and Charlotte seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth.

  Now Frieda returned with a cart bearing tiered trays - one of finger sandwiches - half cucumber, half ham - and the other laden with scones and petit fours. With a smile for Holly, Ben reached out and snatched up a chocolate
petit four with a plump raspberry on top.

  “While we’re here to remember the Grangers,” Delilah said, “we’re also gathered for another reason. Last week, Holly and I invited Adeline over to help me remember where I hid a book my sister gave me. Our grandfather’s book. It’s important that we find it now.” She glanced around the table. “Adeline believes Holly’s safety may depend on this book. For a while, I believed it as well, but now that things have quieted down, I’m not so sure we need it.”

  “The quiet won’t last.” Adeline spoke softly.

  “Well, I’d like to think it will and-”

  “Dee,” Adeline interrupted, “I hope you’re right but we can’t risk it.”

  “I know why Ben is here - you were an eyewitness to some of what happened. And you, Steve, you’re practically the town historian.” Delilah’s eyes settled on the Indian. “But Abner, how are you involved?”

  “Your granddaughter ran off bullies who were picking on my grandson. Keith saw her golden eyes and I’ve caught a glimpse as well.” Abner gazed steadily at Delilah. “I know that Holly has the same gift as your sister and grandfather did, and as your cousin does. She sees spirits.” He paused. “I also know that your grandfather was teaching Addie and Carrie to use their gifts to nudge people into doing his bidding. I believe that is his interest in Holly as well.”

  “What-” Delilah began.

  “That was something that we found very difficult to do,” Addie interrupted. “Almost impossible.”

  “But you did it when Pearl attacked me,” Holly said.

  “You did most of it, sweetheart.” Addie smiled at the girl.

  Delilah looked from one to the other, confused. “What are you talking about?”

  Adeline cleared her throat. “Dee, Holly is far more gifted than your grandfather, sister, or me. Your grandfather figured out that if he concentrated very hard, he could sometimes incline others toward his will. But he wanted to bend them completely to it. The ability seems to be tied to the gold in our eyes. Henry Hank’s talent, like his gold spot, was smaller than Carrie’s or even mine, and I think that fact made him even meaner and angrier.”

  Adeline sipped her tea. “Grandfather began training Carrie and me to nudge people. I had a little more flair for it than he did, but Carrie was markedly better at it.” Shaking her head, Adeline added, “If Carrie concentrated really hard, the fleck in her eye would do more than pulse - it swirled and sometimes her iris would appear both blue and gold. Henry Hank wanted ...” Adeline stared at the ceiling, pondering. “Well, he wanted to possess that power. I’m not sure how he expected to get it, but I believe he had plans to somehow take physical possession of one or both of us.” She paused. “After all, he’d already tried to create a thought-form in the form of the Brimstone Beast. Honestly, I think that he wanted to inhabit Carrie, to take her body for himself. He was a crazy old man, mad for power.” She glanced around the table.

  Abner pondered. “What Barrow didn’t understand was that he wasn’t creating a thought-form. He was tampering with a natural yet very negative force. The Hellfire Spirit of my people’s lore.” He looked at Delilah with raised brows. “The Brimstone Beast of yours.”

  “I know he called himself the Brimstone Beast,” Delilah said.

  Abner nodded. “He did more than that - he tried to become one with the creature. It was more than he could handle and that’s why he is a fractured soul, a broken spirit. That’s why Holly sees his ghost as a black cloud. He has lost his form.” He glanced at Holly. “Henry Hank Barrow is at his most vulnerable; a fractured spirit is relatively weak. It means now is our best shot. If we wait … it may be too late.”

  Ben Gower nodded thoughtfully. “You know, I’ve always thought that Henry Hank was mimicking Aleister Crowley with all that Infurnam Aeris nonsense.”

  “Now that you mention it,” Abner said, “I have to agree. Both were depraved cult leaders with delusions of grandeur.”

  Delilah said dryly, “It sounds as if they both belonged in Hollywood.”

  Abner grinned.

  Ben Gower finished a cucumber sandwich in one bite and reached for another, a twinkle in his eye. “Henry Hank no doubt studied Crowley and resented his wider fame. He was a bitter man; his gold fleck was smaller than his own granddaughter’s. He was nothing but a big fish in a very small pond. Everything about Crowley was bigger. No wonder Henry Hank was such a sour piece of work.” He paused. “No offense, Delilah.”

  “None taken,” she told him. “I was just six when he died, but I was terrified of him. Carrie always told me he was a bad man.” She gave her granddaughter a little smile. “Holly, you haven’t been nudging me to do things, have you?”

  Holly looked shocked. “No! I mean, I knew before that lots of times people were nice to me, like Cherry would let me have a double scoop at Thrifty’s or stay up late when I really wanted to, but I never even thought … you know, that I did it. I don’t think I did. And I swear, until Keith saw my eyes change color, I didn’t even know that could happen.”

  “You used your talent to help me, too,” Delilah said.” She looked around the table. “After the earthquake in the restaurant, she made the waiters and other guests look away while we left.” She smiled at Holly. “You saved me from a great deal of embarrassment and I should have thanked you then. I’m thanking you now.”

  Holly blushed. “You’re welcome. I think that was the first time I ever did it. I was really upset. I can only do it if I’m mad, like when those bullies picked on Keith and me or when those waiters wouldn’t listen to me when I said to leave us alone. I can’t do it if I’m scared.”

  “You’re wrong on both counts, sweetheart,” Adeline said. “At the gas station, you caused Ike and me to guess the exact candy bars you concentrated on. And when I drove up while Pearl Abbott was attacking you on the road, you were terrified but you did just fine.”

  “What happened on the road?” Delilah demanded. “What haven’t you told me?”

  Holly swallowed. “I was coming home to get ready for tea and Pearl Abbott attacked me. I had to concentrate really hard to get mad.”

  “It happened right where the old trailhead used to be,” Abner said. “Straight up from Pearl Abbott’s house.”

  “Pearl Abbott?” Delilah looked from Holly to Abner.

  Holly stood and slipped off her black jacket, showing Delilah the newest bruises, and a painful-looking purplish welt on one forearm.

  Delilah gasped. “Holly! I think we should take you to the doctor.”

  “They’re just bruises.” The girl pulled her jacket back on. “They’re already a lot better. They’ll go away.”

  “Pinching Pearl Abbott.” Ben spoke softly. “Head nurse at the Clementine and high priestess of Infurnam Aeris.” He caught Delilah’s eye. “She did the same to me once. Evil woman. That was the last time I ever came up here. Until the other day.” He glanced from Addie to Abner. “Do either of you have any idea how powerful Henry Hank and Pinching Pearl were? I mean, just how powerful were their Infurnam Aeris rituals? There were always rumors but until now I’ve discounted it all as utter nonsense.”

  Adeline nodded. “I heard rumors too, particularly about nurses who boarded at Pearl’s house disappearing under mysterious circumstances.”

  “Sacrifices, I heard,” Ben said. “Sounded ridiculous at the time.”

  Abner scratched his chin. “I guess we all heard those things. Babies went missing from the maternity ward. My father talked about that. My siblings and I were born at home. My son was born at the hospital in Lewisdale. I wasn’t taking any chances, either.”

  Addie said, “I didn’t have my children at the Clementine, in part because of what happened there the day Carrie died, but mainly because of the missing babies. I had a friend who had a healthy baby there. The next day, they told her it died, and wouldn’t let her see the body. I’m sure something awful happened to it.”

  Delilah was horrified. These were things she had managed to avoid but
now, glancing at Holly, she knew she no longer could. “Ben, what happened that day?”

  The elderly druggist turned pale. “It’s not something I like to talk about. I was just a boy the day Pearl pinched me. I ran out of the hospital straight into her and Henry Hank.”

  “You were running because you’d just found the bodies,” Abner said.

  Ben’s hand trembled, sloshing tea. “How did you know? That was before your time.”

  “I heard about it from my father some years later. He was one of the men who went up to investigate with your father and the constable.”

  “You’re talking about the gas leak that killed everyone in the hospital?” Delilah asked.

  “Yes,” Ben said, his face stricken.

  “But it wasn’t a gas leak,” Abner said. “And I don’t think the Granger’s died of a gas leak either. They blamed a leak then, just as they did today, because they couldn’t find any other explanation.” Abner looked at Ben. “My dad said something about the Beast being responsible for the deaths.”

  Ben nodded. “My father said that if it had been a gas leak from the mines, they would’ve located and capped it. Or they would’ve closed the hospital down and rebuilt it somewhere safer. But they didn’t. The incident was swept under the rug and all but forgotten.” Ben shook his head. “Just like the Granger deaths will be. That’s how it works around here.” He sighed. “Abner, when your father said the Beast might be behind it, did he mean the mythical creature or did he mean Henry Hank himself?”

  Abner rubbed his chin. “He didn’t say, but I believe he meant Henry Hank.”

  Ben nodded. “Makes sense to me. Barrow called himself the Beast even before the century began. My dad was a druggist, so there was a scientific bent to his thinking, and he thought Henry Hank was behind the whole thing, that he’d somehow dispersed a deadly gas into the hospital. It happened on a morning when the Clementine was mostly empty of patients and was attended by a very small staff. But what always confounded me was why Barrow would wipe out all those people in his own hospital.”