From Brigit’s Journal:
I don’t know what I’d do without my Mab. She keeps me laughing when I don’t think I can take life here any longer, and she keeps me company on nights when I’m alone. I’ve never had a puss before, and I’m grateful the Missus allows it. Of course, Mab catches the mice, so she earns her keep.
America has been quite the experience. I thought coming here would mean leaving my old life behind, but it’s almost as if the past haunts me. I think about sweet William a lot, but time has healed a lot of those wounds. I wonder, if I were to go home, would they reopen, bring back the tears? I suppose I’ll never know. All I know is that this land is strange and yet, familiar. In fact, this very house and yard remind me of Glenagary’s Rock. I wouldn’t be surprised to find a barrow if I hunted through the woods long enough.
Speaking of Glenagary’s Rock, I had quite the scare a few mornings ago. I was out in the backyard hanging clothes when a gust of wind swirled around me, catching up my skirt. I thought something was watching me, but when I turned around, there was only the tree there, blowing in the wind.
I don’t like that tree—it gives me nightmares, and I can’t help but wish Mr. Edward would chop it down. Silliness, I suppose. It’s a perfectly fine tree. Mary Kathryn would say I’m letting my imagination run away with me. Still, I try to avoid the backyard at night. I thought I saw lights out there once, but it was probably just the moonlight.
I woke from disturbing dreams that I couldn’t remember, with a vague sense that something was out of place. Joe was lying beside me, curled up against my back. I turned to stare at his tangle of strawberry blond hair.
My sweetheart. He might be ten years younger than I, but he exuded wisdom, confidence, and compassion. Even though his job terrified me—I was always afraid he was going to get burned or fall through a floor trying to rescue somebody—I knew it was his passion. The job was the perfect match for him. And he was the perfect match for me.
Careful to avoid waking him, I slipped from beneath the covers and padded to the window. Overcast, but no rain yet. If we were lucky, it would hold off long enough to finish clearing the lot today. Murray and Jimbo had promised to drop by and give us a hand, though I had the feeling that Murray had more on her mind than yanking out blackberries. Since coming out in the open about her relationship with the renegade biker, she was having a hard time with some of the guys on the force. They didn’t cotton to a head of detectives who was, in their opinion, sleeping with the enemy. And she wasn’t about to give up either her job or her newfound love.
I opened the window and took a long whiff of the chill morning air. The scent of wood smoke filtered in, and the thought occurred to me that maybe we’d better get a chimney sweep over before next week. We didn’t use the fireplace often, but when we did, I wanted to feel safe. Right now I could go for a crackling fire, curled up in a leather chair with an afghan to toss across my legs.
As I stared into the backyard, the lot next door was barely visible over the top of the fence. Joe and I had discussed pulling the fence down, but we wanted to wait until we cleared out the years of vegetation. Plans were that the lot would become an extension of my property, when we finally made the move to join households. We wanted to plant gardens, create a little pond, maybe a gazebo. While not officially engaged, Joe and I had an understanding. This one was for keeps, regardless of I-do’s or golden rings.
I realized I was shivering and shut the window. As I dug through my closet, hunting for my grunge clothes, Joe stirred.
“Honey? What time is it?” he asked, squinting at the nightstand.
“Nine. If you want to get the rest of the lot cleared, you’d better get up and eat. I’d like to get started before noon. I’ve decided I’m not going to clean the shop since I’m on vacation; Cinnamon and Lana can handle it.” Every Saturday morning, rain or shine, the kids and I trooped down to the Chintz ’n China and went to work, dusting, sweeping, polishing until it sparkled. But I was giving myself full latitude on my time off.
The kids deserved a break, too, especially Kip, who had spent the first three Sundays of October at the Bread & Butter House, serving dinner to the poorer residents of Chiqetaw. He’d pulled a stupid stunt in August, and I hoped the lesson would teach him a little bit about generosity and honesty.
Joe reached out for me and I crawled across the covers, still in my bathrobe, and settled into his arms. As we leaned back against the headboard, he played with my hair. “Emerald, are you okay with the fact that I bought the lot? I don’t want to move too fast, and you haven’t said much over the past week about it. I was hoping that you haven’t changed your mind.”
I rested my head on his shoulder. “You took me by surprise, but yeah, I’m happy. I just… for some reason, I’m just feeling uncomfortable today. Like I woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something.”
“What’s wrong?”
But I couldn’t answer. Yesterday I’d been pleased as punch, but today I didn’t want to go outside, especially next door, where we still faced a mountain of foliage. The thought of staying home, making soup and biscuits, maybe watching an old movie or two, was far more appealing than mucking around in the cold.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just tired. I had nightmares last night. I guess they threw me off.” My dreams were often turbulent, and Joe had more than once woken me out of the clutches of some evil menace waiting to gobble me up.
He pushed me into sitting position and began to rub my shoulders, massaging the knots that had formed there during the night. “What were they about this time? Not Roy, I hope?”
Ever since I’d let Joe into my life, I’d been having nightmares in which Roy tried to step in and destroy the happiness I had. While I wouldn’t put the thought past my ex-from-hell, I wasn’t about to court trouble by dwelling on it.
“Honestly? I don’t know. Can’t remember them, so let’s just leave it at that.” I shrugged, then forced myself to climb out from the protection of the thick comforter. “I guess we’d better get moving. The kids will want breakfast and my stomach’s rumbling, too.” Planting a kiss on his forehead, I slipped into a sweatshirt and jeans as he tumbled out of bed. He slapped my butt as he reached for his clothes. I shooed his hand away.
“Scram, fly! I’ll go start the show. Hurry up though, I want you to make me eggs.” Joe cooked up the best scrambled eggs I’d ever tasted. “You want coffee?”
He nodded. “Always, but not that mud you drink. It’s so thick you could stand a spoon in it.”
“Fine then, miss the best part of the day!” With an exaggerated sniff, I stuck my nose in the air and headed for the door, stopping short when I stubbed my toe on the dresser. I gave him an evil glare as he repressed a snicker, and headed downstairs.
After poking through the fridge, I finally decided on cinnamon rolls, fried ham and scrambled eggs, and fresh-squeezed orange juice for breakfast. As I was taking the rolls out of the package and arranging them on a baking pan, Randa trudged in, rubbing her eyes.
“Good morning, sweetie,” I said, then gave her a longer look. She often spent her evenings out on the roof, sky watching, but it had rained like crazy last night. She looked like she’d been dragged through the wringer. “You didn’t go out in the storm last night, did you?”
She shook her head. “Nah, but I had a weird dream. I woke up in the middle of the night, and it was hard to get back to sleep.”
It would seem that nightmares had been the fare for the evening.
“Need any help?” she asked. “Should I start your espresso?”
“You know the way to your mother’s heart, child.” I gave her a quick kiss as she passed by, on her way to the machine that brought me heaven on earth. While she filled the mesh cup with four shots’ worth of ground beans, I tucked the rolls in the oven and sliced up the ham, getting it ready for the skillet. Joe joined us and took over the spatula, scrambling the eggs while I mixed cocoa and Coffee-mate into the black gold that kept me running like a well-tuned machine.
Kip, smelling food, bounced into the kitchen.
“Feed the cats, please, before breakfast,” I said.
He nodded and took off into the pantry, calling Samantha and her three kittens. Our family’s felines were rescues from the animal shelter. The kittens had pretty much grown up, though I had the suspicion that Nigel was in for another spurt. He was on his way to sixteen pounds and counting. Before there were any unexpected blessings, I’d taken them to the vet and had them all fixed. The troop of furbles had wormed their way into our hearts, each one becoming an integral part of our family.
A moment later, Kip returned, looking confused.
“What’s the matter, honey? Are we out of cat food?”
“Nah, but Samantha isn’t by her dish. She’s always there.”
I frowned. Samantha never missed a meal. She looked like a fuzzy round calico bear. Though not as big as her son, she was no slouch in the belly department, with a paunch big enough to make any cat proud.
“Maybe she’s still asleep,” I said. “The seasons are changing and that can affect cats’ appetites and their need for sleep. Don’t worry about it, she’ll eat when she’s ready.” He nodded and helped Miranda set the table. As Joe and I dished up breakfast, I asked them, “What are your plans for the day?”
Randa shrugged. “Library. I’ve got a lot of homework and I need to do some research.”
I nodded. “And you?” I asked Kip.
He sighed. “I thought I might go with Randa, if she doesn’t mind.”
I stared at him, as did Randa. The library? Kipling?
He must have noticed the startled looks because he added, “I need to check out a book on basic HTML for the computer club. We’re learnin’ how to write code and our advisor told us to get a book on it. They cost like forty dollars or more and I thought you wouldn’t want to buy it for me.”
Randa gave him a skeptical look. “Yeah, right. You’re probably trying to learn how to become a hacker, aren’t you? Well, if you want to go with me, you can help me do the dishes this morning. The library doesn’t open until eleven, so we’ve got a couple hours before we need to leave.”
When Kip had first signed up for the summer computer camp offered by the Chiqetaw Community Center, I’d been amazed by how willingly he learned the material. Now he was applying that knowledge in school, for which I was grateful. However, I’d had the same sneaking suspicion that Randa voiced, though I wasn’t about to say so aloud. Chances being what they were, if Kip could manage to get himself in trouble, he would. My son’s sense of judgment was notoriously poor and he wasn’t too swift in the think-first category. I comforted myself with the thought that at least he was taking an interest in school.
“Tell you what. See if you can find it at the library. If you can’t, check the used bookstores. Then, if you still can’t find a copy of it, I’ll order it from Barnes & Noble, on condition that you stay in the computer club until at least spring break. Okay?”
“Okey-dokey.” He gave me a happy nod and turned back to his breakfast.
“By the way, if either of you decides to run off after the library, be sure to call and leave me a message. Where, why, and when you’ll be home. And Kip, remember: No going over to Sly’s. You know the rules.”
Unless it was during schooltime, he’d been banned from hanging out with Sly, his best friend. I hated playing bad cop, but a couple of months ago the troubled youth had encouraged Kip to take part in what was essentially a scam. That had been the last straw. After giving Sly chance after chance, I finally had to face facts. The kid wasn’t going to change, his parents didn’t care, and I couldn’t count on my son’s common sense. So I’d limited the amount of time they were allowed to spend together.
Sly’s mother had been no help when I’d approached her about the attempted scam, telling me to “mind your own fucking business and take care of your own damned kid.”
As sorry as I felt for the youngster, I had to put my son first. Kip had finally resigned himself to my decision, but he was prone to forgetting whatever he didn’t want to remember, so I reinforced the reminder at least once a week.
He grimaced, but said nothing; both he and Miranda knew my stance on whining. “Can I—”
“May I.”
“May I have more eggs?”
Joe pushed himself back from the table and bowed. “Of course, Monsieur Kipling. Any other requests? Chef Joseph at your service.”
Randa and Kip giggled while I stared at my plate, deciding whether I had room left for any more. The caffeine was working through my system and I was starting to wake up. A little rumble told me that I could stand another serving of scrambled eggs. “I’m with Kip. Bring it on, babe.”
Joe snorted. “Your pleasure is my pleasure, Madame. Randa? You want anything else?”
She shook her head. “Nah, I’m going to go finish my chores before we head off to the library. Kip, don’t forget—you’re helping me with the dishes.”
He nodded, his mouth full of cinnamon roll.
By the time the dishes were done and the kids out the door, it was almost eleven. Murray and Jimbo pulled into the driveway. They’d brought both their trucks so we could haul away the debris faster.
Anna Murray, my oldest friend, had been my room-mate at the University of Washington before she moved to Chiqetaw to accept a position on the police force. I’d married Roy and stayed in Seattle, my one huge mistake in life. Although, without Roy, I wouldn’t have Randa and Kip, so life with him hadn’t been a total loss—it had netted me the two most important people in the world. After we broke up, Murray encouraged me to move to Chiqetaw and start my own business. I never looked back.
Mur had recently been promoted to the post of head of detectives. Tall, regal, Native American, she was buxom, with long, straight black hair that she wore caught back in a braid, and she possessed a grace I could never hope to match.
Jimbo, her boyfriend, was an old biker who built a life for himself out by Miner’s Lake, where he trapped small animals for fur, raised bees for honey, and picked up odd jobs here and there working on cars. They made an unlikely pair. He was a rebel, she was dedicated to keeping order, and yet somehow, they’d found love in the midst of their differences.
In fact, they’d started out on opposite sides of the law, when Jimbo threw a brick through my front room window early in the year. He’d later decided to play the good guy. I owed him big, even though he insisted the debt had been paid in full.
Mur gave me a hug and thumbed me toward her truck. “We brought some heavy tools to yank out the rest of those vines,” she said, hauling out what looked like a giant-sized set of pruning shears.
“Well, there’s been a development in our excavation. Did you know there used to be a house on that lot?”
“What? Really? Did you find something?”
“Yep.” We told them about the basement and, their interest piqued. We all trooped over to the lot, where Joe took down the ropes we’d put up to discourage sightseers from falling in.
Murray stared into the part of the chamber that we could see and turned to me, a puzzled look on her face. “Well, isn’t that a kicker? I never would have guessed. Those brambles are more tenacious than I thought—they make the perfect cover. And Horvald said there was a house here?”
“Yep. A three-story mansion, I gather. He said it burned to the ground from a lightning strike, almost fifty years ago on Halloween night.”
Jimbo shook his head. “Leave it to you, O’Brien, to stumble over a house burnt down by lightning. On Halloween, yet. You can’t help finding hoodoo even when you aren’t looking for it, can you?”
“Hey, I was born on Halloween, so don’t go knocking my birthday!” I laughed as we spread out and started chopping away.
About an hour into our work, we came to a second edge of the basement and had to haul out the mess we’d already cut away. While Joe and Jimbo kept making inroads on the thicket, Murray and I loaded armfuls of the thorny brush into the pickup beds. I was grateful for the thick jacket I’d decided to wear; the thorns snagged at it, but never managed to break through to my skin.
After a few moments, Mur stopped and leaned against the side of her truck. “Em, can we talk for a second?”
“Sure.” Grateful for a break, I propped myself on the back bumper and stretched. “What’s up?”
She let out a big sigh. “I don’t know what to do. The guys are being an ass about Jimmy. And the Chief didn’t come right out and say so, but he hinted that I deserve whatever flack I get if I continue to see ‘that scum,’ as he put it.”
Youch. Harsh. Usually Tad Bonner fought on Murray’s side, rather than attacking her. The turnaround wasn’t good news. “Have you told Jimbo about this?”
She shook her head. “No, and I’m not going to. I don’t want him punching out my boss, and I don’t want him to feel like he’s compromising my job. I’m so frazzled. I’m afraid this is the ammunition they’ve been looking for to get me fired.”
“Surely Deacon and Greg aren’t saying anything?” I couldn’t believe the two nicest guys on the force would turn against her.
“No,” she said, sighing. “Deacon and Greg and Sandy are great about this, even if they do think I’m out of my mind. But the guys who got passed over for promotion when Bonner appointed me head of detectives are talking behind my back, trying to stir up trouble.”
I didn’t know what to say. There wasn’t much I could say. I put my arm around her shoulder. “They just need some time to get to know him, to see he’s not the bad news they think he is. It’ll be okay.”
I was talking out of sheer bravado, but what else was I supposed to do? Tell her I thought she might end up having to choose between her career and the one man who had ever made her happy? Nope, wasn’t even gonna go there. She needed to keep a positive outlook and, whatever she chose to do, she had to make this decision on her own.
We were about to return to work when Randa came pedaling up on her bike. Surprised that she was home so early, I asked, “Is anything wrong?”
She shook her head. “No, but I need to ask you something.” With an apologetic glance at Murray, she added, “Alone.”
I walked her over to the sidewalk. “Where’s your brother?”
“I dunno, he left before I did. Probably over at Tommy’s. He said he’d call and leave you a message.”
“Okay. Well, ask away.”
“May I go to a movie tomorrow afternoon? I need to know now.”
Randa wasn’t a big movie buff, so her request struck me as odd, but I figured that her best friend Lori had talked her into going. Lori was the one person in the world who could take Miranda’s mind off star clusters and nebulas. “What’s the movie?”
“Alien Warlord.”
I glanced up at her, confused. Alien Warlord? Not sure I’d heard right, I said, “That isn’t exactly the type of movie you usually like. You sure you want to go? What’s the rating?”
She scuffed her foot on the ground. “PG-13. And yeah, well, see, the thing is normally I wouldn’t go see it, but Gunner asked me to go with him. And I… kinda… want to.”
Stupefied, my mouth dropped open. Gunner? Her English tutor who she’d been bad-mouthing for the past two weeks? I’d barely gotten over the fact she actually had a friend her age—Lori Thomas was Randa’s only real girlfriend. Now she wanted to date?
I managed to close my mouth before a bug flew in it.
“So, you want to go?” Act nonchalant, I thought. That was the key. I didn’t want to scare her off from the idea, even though the thought of her dating simultaneously overjoyed and terrified me.
She nodded. “Yeah, I guess I do. He’s nice enough, even if he is all hung up on English and writing.”
Gunner was actually quite the nice young man. I’d met him and he was polite and respectful. And he was in the same grade, so that wasn’t a problem. “Okay then, if it’s a matinee, sure. You can go.”
She blushed, but looked pleased as she glanced around the lot. “Wow, you guys really have been working hard. I’ll kind of miss the berries, though. They were fun to pick. Do you need any help?”
I could tell she was hoping I’d say no and decided to give her a break. After all, it wasn’t every day a girl was asked out on her first date, and I knew she’d want to go and call Lori and discuss the matter thoroughly.
“Nah, you scoot and enjoy the rest of the day. Do me a favor, though. Make sure that the ground beef is thawed. If it isn’t, put the package in a Ziploc bag and close it tight, then set it in a big bowl of cold water. We’re having spaghetti for dinner. And check to make sure Kip left a message. If he didn’t, come tell me.”
She nodded, gave me a quick peck on the cheek, and pushed her bike over to the house. As I started in on another tenacious root, Mur gave me a quizzical look. She sidled over as I grinned at her.
“My daughter’s been asked out on her first date.”
“A date? Good grief, is the sky falling?” She laughed and I joined in. Mur understood Randa better than anybody except me.
“Come here! Look at this!” Joe’s excited cry startled us into silence. We hurried over to see what they’d found.
The men had ripped away a big patch of brush, exposing the full scope of the basement. It was about twenty-by-thirty feet and had probably underscored a good third of the house. As the light filtered down into the chamber, softly illuminating the dark corners, a chill of excitement raced up my back. Chances were, nobody had seen this basement for almost fifty years. I felt like an archaeologist, uncovering hidden secrets from the past.
Old timbers, charred and rotten, littered the floor, which rested a good fifteen feet below us. The entire basement was covered with thick layers of mulch. A concrete stairway led down into the room, but we couldn’t reach the steps due to the tendrils and vines that still blocked our path.
My heart quickened as I stared at the mammoth chamber. “Oh my God, this is huge. Horvald said the house was a mansion, but I had no idea.”
During the winter months, even when the leaves died down, the brambles had been so thick and woody they’d managed to cover the lot, along with all traces of the desolate remains.
Murray stepped away from the edge. “Em, I don’t like it. Something feels wrong down there.”
As I gazed down at the charred beams, a rush of wind swept past, and once again I thought I could hear a faint moan. Licking my lips, I forced myself to look away. “I know what you mean. I thought I heard someone cry out last night when we first found it. A woman, screaming.”
Jimbo shook his head and set down his pruning shears. He’d adopted a quiet respect for our abilities, and since his grandma was a hoodoo woman, he always took our warnings seriously. “What say we lay off for today and let you two figure out what needs to be done, if anything?”
Joe shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with that. We can make an early dinner.” He glanced at his watch. “Whoa, it’s almost five. The light will be gone in another hour anyway. We did a lot of work today and it won’t take long for Em and me to finish it up over the next couple days.”
As we trooped back to the house, I glanced over my shoulder. Once again, the uncanny sensation that we were being watched tickled the back of my neck. Yeah, something was there, all right, but I had no idea what. But, whatever it was, we’d need to cleanse the area. That much I was sure of. Fifty years burial under a tangle of briars was enough to produce an energy all its own, even if nothing bad had happened there.
Once we were back at the house, Murray and I took over the kitchen. As I boiled water for the noodles, Murray fried up the ground beef and added a couple of jars of pre-made spaghetti sauce. We were winging it with deli coleslaw, pre-buttered French bread that we had only to slip into the oven, and a chocolate cake from the bakery.
Randa wandered in, carrying her science book. “Oh yeah, you wanted to know. Kip left a message. He was over at Tommy’s but said he’d be home by five so he should be here any minute.”
“Thanks, hon. Set the table, please.” Grumbling, she put down her book. As she opened the cupboard for plates and glasses, I turned to Murray. “Last night, when Joe and I first found the foundation, I got the queasiest feeling. Like I was staring over the edge of a cliff and about to lose my footing.”
Murray stirred a can of diced tomatoes into the sauce. “Em, I’m not sure what happened, but there’s a lot of residue energy tucked away under those vines.” She glanced up at me. “You know if Jimmy was worried enough to stop working, then he felt something even though he’d never say so. He’s not as head-blind as he thinks.”
That was one thing we’d discovered about the burly biker over the past few months. Jimbo might not admit to having any psychic abilities but we’d seen them flare up in him. Sporadic and unbidden, the power was there.
“Yeah. I know,” I said, suddenly feeling tired. I set the coleslaw on the table, then looked around the kitchen. “Looks like we’re ready. Kip can eat when he gets in, so go ahead and call everybody to the table.”
Just then, Kip came racing through the back door. He took one look at dinner, yelled “Spaghetti!” dropped his backpack on the floor, and ran to the bathroom to wash up. Jimbo and Joe lumbered in, while Miranda helped me slice up the bread. As we settled down to eat, Kip frowned, excused himself and peeked into the pantry. He came back, a worried look on his face.
“Mom, Samantha isn’t there! Nigel, Noël, and Nebula are all eating, but Sammy’s still not home. I haven’t seen her since last night.”
That didn’t sound like Samantha. She was a little piglet, racing to the food dish every morning and evening. Missing one meal was plausible. Two set me on alert. I wiped my mouth with my napkin.
“Excuse me, folks, but I’m going to help Kip have a look around the house.”
Randa dropped her napkin on the table. “I’ll help, too.”
Samantha liked to curl up in closets so we started there, digging through every closet, including the one in the storage room. After a few minutes, Joe, Jimbo, and Murray joined us and we scoured the house, calling for Samantha, peeking under every piece of furniture and into every nook and cranny. Twenty minutes later, we gathered back in the kitchen, sans cat. By now, both Randa and Kip had tears in their eyes. I put my arms around their shoulders.
“She’s probably outside, kiddos,” I said, keeping my voice even, though inside I was worried. Samantha seldom went any farther than the front porch, with one or two exceptions. “Tell you what, let’s finish up dinner and then we’ll all go out and have a look.”
“But it’s almost dark,” Kip said, his lip quivering.
“I know that, but we can call around the yard. Maybe she got in the shed last night. I think I locked it, but maybe I didn’t. And you can go over and check Horvald’s yard. Once she ran across the street after a squirrel and ended up tearing up his spearmint. She’ll turn up, honey. She’s a smart cat.”
I could tell he didn’t believe me, but he acquiesced. We finally got back to the table, where we finished our dinner.
As I finished my dinner, I could feel the beginnings of a headache. Yesterday everything had been fine, but now I couldn’t shake the feeling that we’d just stumbled into a dark forest that had closed in around us. Even Jimbo and Murray looked strained. The rest of the meal passed in silence, with no one saying more than “Would you pass the bread” or “More water, please.”