Grave Echoes: A Kate Waters Mystery (25 page)

He stood from his seat, eyeing the back of the bar. Two green pool tables supported the meaty, greasy palms of several denim-and-leathered men. More booths lined the back wall, populated with watchful couples and one loner drinking a Pabst Blue Ribbon, in a black jacket.

Wells took another swig of his bourbon before heading to the restroom. As he approached the booths in the back, something familiar about the man in the black jacket struck him. He’d seen his face before, but couldn’t remember where. The man stood to leave. Acting on a hunch, Wells headed into the bathroom, waited for a few seconds, and then came back out, making his way to the parking lot. A black Ford pickup had left from the south side, license plate WPX724, similar to some of the letters Kate had identified the other night. He went back into the bar, over to his table. The beer bottle was still on his table, empty. Burnt down Marlboro filters littered the ashtray. Wells glanced around, not wanting anyone to see him, picked up a napkin, and put the bottle and a couple of filters into his jacket.

That feeling of something much better than a hunch bristled the hairs across his arms. He knew a guy at forensics who could probably test the bottle tonight, but even if the prints matched, he still had to uncover how the man at the bar was connected to Jev.

***

Kate left work and drove straight home, knowing Wells would be displeased about her going there alone. At least David had reactivated the Sonitrol alarm yesterday, she justified, and sometime tonight, a patrol car would drive by. Both gave her some security, but after hearing about what had happened to Donna, it still wasn’t enough.

But she had nowhere to go, nowhere that danger wouldn’t eventually follow. Besides, reducing her excessive stress should be a top priority. Kate sloughed off her troubles with a candlelit bath, watching the shadows from the flames flicker and wave on the jade-colored wall. Steam rose from the water, coiling like a snake, and then dissipated in glimmering light. The doors were locked, the lights were dimmed, and Kate let the peace of the moment cradle her in a hot bliss. She just wanted to breathe without thoughts—nothing about volcanoes blowing, no family secrets, vengeful stalkers, or suspicious lovers. Just still warmth.

Waves of eucalyptus and lavender softened her senses and brought her mind to a spiritual plane, devoid of mundane chores and responsibilities, blunt regularity, and everyday concerns. Shapes, images, and thoughts emerged through the dark space behind her eyelids, until she felt as if she were floating. She imagined a stream that pooled into sapphire waters below a waterfall where she stood. Stepping in to explore the beauty, she paused as a shadow drifted over her. Someone stood at the edge of the pool. Kate jumped, her mind splashing back to the present—her bath at home.

She drained the water, changed into a pair of sweats and headed to the couch to wait for David. Tucking herself under a red blanket, she browsed through a book on hiking trails in the Portland/Vancouver region, anything to get her mind off everything. But, a few pages later, she heard the back door click open. Kate sat up and turned toward the kitchen. She’d checked the alarm twice, and since only she and David knew the code, nobody could get in. Nobody but her and David.

A cool breeze gusted into the living room. Kate reached for her cell phone on the coffee table and moved quietly into the hallway, searching for Wells’ phone number in her contact list. She listened for movement in the kitchen, but could only hear the drone of silence. She brought up Wells’ number, and decided if the kitchen door opened, she would make the call.

At the corner of the laundry room, adjacent to the kitchen, Kate waited again for the light rustle of movement, the scraping of shoes on tile, or the rattle of a coat zipper. When she heard none, she peered around the corner. The back door was shut and the green light on the alarm meant the house was secure. But she’d heard the door open? She’d felt a cool breeze? Kate released hot breath and flipped her phone closed. She headed back into the living room when something stopped her—the television was on. She knew for sure she hadn’t turned it on, opting to read instead. Down the hallway, light flashed on the wall from the TV, like someone changed the channels.

Advancing against her anxiousness, Kate moved down the hall toward the living room. A strobe of blues and grays complicated her search of the bureau for something to protect herself with. She reached for a tall, crystal vase and a wave of déjà vu flooded her as she gripped it firmly in her hand. As she’d done with the baseball bat and fireplace poker, she found herself inching towards the unknown with a fearful heart.

There were no sounds still, except for those on the television. Steadying herself for anything and everything, Kate inhaled a strong breath and peeked around the corner. But, she could never have been prepared for what she saw—a group of people stood in her living room.

She wheeled back behind the wall and gasped, her throat strangled by terror. Her thoughts became a violent storm, hailing down panic, as she struggled to comprehend what she’d just seen.

People in her house—who were they? What did they want?

She pressed her back against the wall, keeping stone silent, trying to figure out what to do. The silence…that’s what frightened her—the people weren’t talking. They must have seen her, she panicked, afraid to move, knowing that she would eventually have to. Kate forced herself to edge back to the corner, confirm her vision. But her sight had not failed her. The people still stood there in her living room, a reality that stung her numb.

Still, they weren’t moving or talking…actually, they weren’t really standing. Kate blinked her eyes. No, she refuted. Their feet have to be touching the ground. But where their feet should have been, a wrinkled shadow blended into the background beneath them.

Terror flooded her, as she looked on in dreadful shock, too scared to run, but too mystified to leave. Something in the living room captivated them so much, they hadn’t even noticed her presence, like she was invisible. Pulled by what mesmerized them, Kate stepped into the living room.

Nothing about their ethnicity, age, or gender united them; nothing except white flowers they held in their hands. At the end of the sofa, stood a little girl wearing a white lacy dress and shiny black shoes. She held a white tulip tied with pink ribbon. Pink ribbon. Kate looked closer. She was the same girl Kate had seen in the laundry room and reflected in her bedroom window.

A scream froze in the back of Kate’s throat as she slid back. She moved visibly in front of them, but none of them paid any attention to her. Something on the sofa transfixed them and the urge to know what it was pushed Kate toward the couch, where she joined them guardedly. She looked down—at herself. She was dressed in the same clothes she had been wearing after her bath. The same red blanket draped over her.

The little girl looked over to her and parted her pink lips. ‘Wake up. He’s almost here.’

Kate’s eyes popped open. Shadows on the ceiling stared back at her, but no faces. She lifted her head to find herself lying on the couch. The red blanket draped over her, and a bouquet of white flowers lying on her chest—carnations, roses, a lily, and a tulip.

The scream frozen in her throat bellowed, reverberating through the empty house. She bounded from the couch, chucking the flowers away from her. Icy, white petals scattered across the floor. Her legs felt gummy as she sprinted for the door, swiping her keys and cell phone off the bureau. Like a blink, the little girl appeared on the stairs in front of her.

‘The wolf will follow you.’ Her lips didn’t move.

Kate heard herself scream and darted for the door. Quickly, she turned off the alarm and rushed out the door. Behind her, she could still feel them, closing in on her, stretching skeletal arms and hands at her neck and shoulders. Skipping a step down the porch, Kate tripped and fell in the gravel on her hands and knees. Sharp pain jolted through her limbs, but she picked herself up, trying to ignore the pain and cool air against the wetness of blood coming from her kneecap.

Afraid to look back at the house, she imagined the people advancing behind her like androids. She slammed the door shut to her jeep, clicked the lock, and gunned the engine. The jeep lurched from the driveway and behind her in the rear-view mirror, she swore she could see them standing in the wide-open doorway.

Wells zigzagged through a maze of hallways and offices until he came to the crime lab door. He hit the buzzer. A man at the window he knew by the name of Rick Lemans inspected his badge and opened the door.

“Detective Wells? Still tickin’ are ya?” he said with a mocking grin. He looked just as foul as he always did, Wells noted, sporting a handlebar mustache on a thick, greasy face that never left home without a scowl. Wells used to work regularly with the crime lab personnel on his cases, but after the department divided forensics from investigations, he now had to schedule all forensic analysis through a special division, called the Special Forensics Task Force. Although seeing less of Rick became one bonus, the new division just added another step in his investigative process and another set of hands to screw things up and potentially interfere with evidence.

“Rick, what’d you do to yourself?” Wells patted his back—he knew it would make him uncomfortable. “Finally take a vacation?”

“More like a promotion,” another man said, walking toward them. It was Larry Hopkins, just the man Wells came to see.

“Promotion…,” Wells turned to Rick. “How’d you pull that one off?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he replied, with a lift of his nose.

Probably screwing your way up the occupational ladder, Wells thought. Rick wasn’t bright or competent, so somebody had to be getting screwed on that deal.

“Which means, if you’ve come here with something, take it to special ops first,” Rick warned, straightening his shoulders. “I wouldn’t wanna have to use my guns on you, cowboy.” He flexed his biceps and packed his fists together.

“Guns still need bullets,” Wells replied. “Fortunately, I’m just making a social call.” He gave a heads-up nod to Larry, who after having worked with for several years, nodded back, as if knowingly.

“Let’s grab a coffee down the street,” Larry said. He motioned for Wells to follow him back to his desk. “I need to make just a quick call.”

Wells saluted Rick, who scrutinized the two of them with crossed arms and an attitude to match. They reached Larry’s desk and moved behind a row of filing cabinets.

“What a dweeb,” Larry said.

“Shit, doesn’t brass see through that guy?”

“He’s bangin’ the Mayor’s daughter.”

“That explains the promotion,” Wells replied. “I wouldn’t promote that prick if he saved my life.”

Larry let loose his contagious laugh. “Rick would never risk his anyways.” He stopped, looking Wells up and down. “You look beat. What’s going on?”

Wells glanced around the corner of Larry’s office, making sure no one listened in on them. “I’ve got a road fatality that’s developing into a homicide, possibly a double.”

He pulled the bottle from his jacket. Larry’s face lit up, and he quickly grabbed a pair of latex gloves off his desk.

“I’m short on time with this one,” Wells said. “I’ve already got one girl dead, another fighting for her life, and at least one more in danger. I need prints and saliva. We’ve already posted a potential match, and I can email you the details when I get back in the office.”

“You the only one who’s touched it?”

“Yes.”

Larry bagged the bottle and wrote on the tag in the upper corner.

“I owe you on this one,” Wells told him.

Larry’s smile lifted at one corner of his mouth. “Oh, I know.” He slapped Wells on the shoulder. “That’s what we do, right?”

“Call my cell,” Wells said. “I don’t want anyone from the bureau to know I’ve seen you… besides Ricky Martin.”

“You can bet by tomorrow, everyone’s going to know anyway. Come on, I’ll lead you out.” They bypassed Rick’s post, where he flirted with one of the dispatchers. Larry swiped his card through the security unit, waiting for the green light to flash, and then pushed the door open for Wells.

“So, who is the killer? Do you have any leads?”

Wells scanned the city lights along the block, reflecting on the obscurity of the case. He turned to Larry. “I thought it was someone in the occult, but now I’m wondering if the dead girl was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

***

“Here you go.” Thea handed Kate a bottled-water and two aspirin.

The two of them sat outside in the parking lot of Walter Biddy’s on a bench. Gray clouds lit by city lights rolled across the midnight blue sky, revealing only the brightest stars in between. The unfamiliar shadows surrounding Kate reminded her of the distrust she still had for Thea. Wasn’t she still a suspect? But Kate didn’t know who else to turn to—David had been unreachable at work.

“Thanks.” Kate set aside the bloody napkin she’d used to dab her skinned knee with. She took the water and pills and swallowed them in one gulp. She’d found extra clothes and a pair of shoes left in the back seat of her jeep from the last expedition to Mt. Hood, a pleasant surprise since she’d left the house without her purse and wearing nothing but her slippers and sweats. At least she’d grabbed her cell phone so she could get in touch with David later.

Thea reached into her bag and pulled out a tin canister filled with a waxy substance that looked like a mixture of Vaseline and dirt. “This is an herbal salve to help with the pain and healing.” She applied the ointment to Kate’s knee.

It cooled her pain immediately. “Wow, what is that?”

“Ancient cult secret,” Thea replied, giving her a sly glance.

“So, you don’t think I’m crazy.” Looking back, Kate felt foolish about everything she’d told her. Poltergeists seemed absurd to her, but Thea had absorbed her story with conviction. She’d listened concernedly.

Thea put the lid back on the tin and put it in her bag. “Most people don’t understand the subtlety of ghosts; it’s not like in the movies.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Kate said again. “I’ve never believed in them.” With regret, Kate realized David was right, even though it was Jev’s presence he’d suspected was in the house trying to warn them of danger.

“We think in their whispers and sense with their memories,” Thea said, playing with a band of black jasper beads around her wrist. “Their presence is faint and often only detectable through peripheral awareness, kind of like looking at the stars—you notice them more when you aren’t concentrating directly on them. However, most spirits communicate with us through dreams.”

“How so?”

Thea stood and leaned against a brick wall that ran down one length of the bar. Ivy cascaded over the side of the wall like hair. “Dreams are the river of divine power flowing between our world and the spirit world. This is how the undead contact us to relay information, but you seem to have a physical gateway in your house, the window upstairs.”

The undead. Kate swallowed hard thinking about the room, how the window had opened the night Jev died and just before she’d spotted the stranger in the backyard. David had even seen a reflection in that window on Halloween, probably one of the women she’d seen tonight. “David believes it’s because someone died in that room.”

“It makes sense.”

It didn’t to Kate. How did ghosts exist at all? Everything she had learned, studied, and believed in seemed deficient now.

“So, maybe one of the apparitions you saw tonight died in the upstairs room,” Thea said. “Still, the important question is how are they related to Jev?”

Kate suggested David’s idea. “Maybe Jev solved her murder.”

“Maybe.” Thea didn’t seem convinced.

A few cars drove into the lot. Kate eyed the rows of parked vehicles for a black pickup truck. The ghosts in the house frightened her, especially the little girl’s warning about the wolf, but the man in the truck was still her primary fear. An older couple walked past them, whom Thea waved to.

“Did they say anything?” Thea asked.

“Tonight, the little girl said the wolf would follow me.” Kate recollected the night when her and David had heard the voices in the hallway. “Another time, one said, He’s coming for you, and another one said, she’s a witch.” Kate paused. “He must be the man who’s following me, the same person who hurt Donna.”

“Who’s the witch?” Thea questioned.

“Originally, I thought it was you, but maybe it’s Donna.”

“No.” She stood up and walked toward Kate.

“Then who?”

“You,” Thea said.

“What? That doesn’t make sense.” Kate paced in front of Thea’s car. Her knee felt stiff and throbbed with hot pain.

“It makes perfect sense,” Thea replied. “Not everyone has hallucinations filled with past clues or geometrical encounters from psychic ravens.”

Phrased like that, it was difficult to argue her point. “No. I do believe in magic now,” she said, “but I am definitely not a witch.”

“You don’t have to dress like it, or even act like it. Either you are, or you aren’t.” Thea stepped closer to Kate. “You, my dear, are.”

“But what does that mean?”

“It means you control your destiny. It means you have the power, the gift of magic to help you navigate through life, something not everyone can do, even when they know about magic and practice it frequently.”

“Was Jev a witch?”

“Jev was more than just a witch.” Thea’s voice softened at the mention of her name. “She was a vessel of divine power. But her challenges of the heart often interfered.”

“You don’t like Sean do you?”

“I don’t trust him.”

“He saved my life, twice.”

Thea frowned at her.

“On a trip to Mt. Hood, I almost slipped off the mountain, and then a wolf nearly attacked me later that night.”

“A wolf…on Mt. Hood?” Thea questioned her. “I didn’t think they had habitat there.”

“There not supposed to, but I’m positive it was a wolf. Even more so now—the little girl even said so.”

A thought seemed to crest in Thea’s mind when her eyes brightened. “Ravens and wolves are messengers of death, along with the spider.”

Favoring her unwounded leg, Kate walked to the bench where Thea sat. “Are you sure?”

“Why?”

“I’ve encountered all three, in one way or another,” Kate said.

Thea’s eyes darkened. “You need to do a protection spell, immediately.”

A protection spell, Kate contemplated. Wouldn’t it just attract more evil? More trouble? But wasn’t she in trouble already. What did she have to lose? If Jev had trusted in Thea, maybe she should too.

“All right,” she heard herself say.

***

Kate checked her cell phone before leaving Walter Biddy’s and followed behind Thea’s green Thunderbird to Hoyt Arboretum. Sarah had sent her a text message at five o’clock, but there were no messages from David. She’d hoped to reach him before he went home and found she wasn’t there, especially since she’d promised to stay at the house until he got off work. She had every intention of doing just that, but she hadn’t expected to be haunted by a group of strangers. She couldn’t stay in that house alone, ever again.

Thea pulled over alongside the road near a trail opening to the park, a lush sanctuary teeming with rare and native evergreen and deciduous trees. It was the perfect place for an afternoon hike, but not one Kate ever imagined visiting at night with a witch carrying a black cloth bag full of witchcraft paraphernalia and a double-bladed knife, she called an athame, tucked at her waist. A midnight blue cloth draped over Thea’s head, adding further to her mysticism.

With twelve miles of trails, the location offered plenty of space to conduct a private ritual, an advantage for a woman like Thea. Kate thought about what Thea had said regarding her being the witch the ghosts spoke of, and though she wanted to deny it, she was the one the strangers had watched…she wore the pentacle bracelet…and she had encountered the strange phenomenon with animals. Kate expected Jev’s death to change her life, the way it had with her mother’s death, but not to this degree. Supernatural occurrences were challenging her beliefs, her truths, and she felt lost and bare from unpredictability. Her previous objectives in life no longer seemed applicable. She was a different person now, requiring a new set of life instructions, most of which she still needed to discover and hoped after this, to do so in the daylight.

The last of the browned, brittle leaves had fallen from the trees and speckled the roads like beads of sienna paint. The sky had cleared after a brief shower and an upside-down crescent moon hung from the trees. Kate stepped from her jeep and met Thea in front of a sign that read no entry between ten pm and five am, but Thea, either not noticing or caring, ducked through the bars anyway. Kate followed her, looking over her shoulder as she did. The bony branches of trees and shrubs arched crooked fingers into the path, trying to snag passing life, but Thea marched ahead, intuitively ducking and stepping along the path, like she had come here many times before.

They headed down the Wildwood Trail, and with her knee throbbing again, Kate struggled to keep up with Thea’s swift step. Blood flowed to the wound, wetting the gauze taped around her knee.

“Where are we going?” Kate asked.

“You’ll see.” Thea increased her stride.

A blind mission. It seemed an odd place and time to perform a protection spell, in a city park, in the middle of the night where most danger allegedly lurked. What happened to abracadabra and the boiling pot behind closed doors?