Chapter Thirty-Four


Something woke me up.

It had taken me a long time to fall asleep. I kept thinking of the little girl in the cemetery and hoping desperately I’d been able to help her get to a much better place.

I shot out of the bed convinced it was Marietta standing vigil over me again. But I didn’t see anything.

Then I heard a noise, whatever it was that woke me up, a clicking of something hard on a wood surface. It scratched and scraped and sent chills down my back.

Walking over to my desk I fumbled for the lamp and switched it on. At first the light was blinding but, as I got used to it, I scanned the room for something out of place. No stray shadows moved but I could not shake the forbidding feeling that seized me.

This time the noise was closer, off to my right.

I tried to follow it but didn’t have very far to go. At the edge of my desk I caught sight of a movement the same time I heard the sound.

It was the necklace Margaret gave me.

Torn between curiosity and fear I watched as it inched slower and slower to the edge, as if it had a destination in mind. After a few more seconds, it stopped.

When I reached out my hand to touch it, it lifted up into the air. Startled, I jumped back and squealed. My heart was pounding in my chest. The pendant lay flat in midair with the chain dangling down behind it. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was dreaming

Not in this house, though.

Once more, it started to move. Inch by inch it floated closer to the window near my bed. I took a few slow steps behind it and jumped again when I heard the pendant tap up against the glass. Even though it startled me, I sensed no danger from the necklace as I stepped up and wrapped my hand around it.

It was cold, which I expected, but it also hummed with some kind of energy. Then, I peered out the window, wondering where it could possibly have been headed.

I almost couldn’t believe my eyes.

Instead of the back yard I was staring at a bedroom full of ornate furnishings, a fire in the hearth and a frantic Catherine packing a small valise.

She looked exactly as Jackson described. Bruises covered her face, her lip was cut and swollen. Her golden brown hair spilled halfway out of the combs trying to hold it up. The dress she wore was very plain and inexpensive looking. Remembering what Jackson said about their running away together, I imagined that she didn’t want to stand out. That or her husband had beaten the desire to look beautiful out of her. I also noticed the necklace, the same one that drew me to the window, nestled in the neckline of her dress.

I realized I must be seeing the night she was supposed to meet him at the station, the night she died.

Suddenly, the bedroom door slammed open and a large man strode in the room. He had light blond hair receding at the forehead and cold scary eyes. Well over six feet tall, he was one of the biggest men I’d ever seen. He wasn't fat, just hard and lean. He radiated with a creepy vibe.

William Jennings.

Catherine clutched a pair of stockings to her chest as she whirled around, surprised by his sudden appearance. I saw the look of a trapped animal in her eyes. She knew what was about to happen. Even as an observer, I could feel the fear pulsing off her.

“What are you doing?” William asked. His voice was smooth and quiet, not what I expected from a man of his size. Still, it left me cold but with a hot prickling sensation on the back of my neck. He took another step towards Catherine.

Like a fish, she opened and closed her mouth trying to get air or words to form. William continued towards her, one slow agonizing step at a time. Catherine’s eyes darted frantically, searching for any means of escape. There was none.

“I saw a man leave here this afternoon. Who was he?” Catherine shook her head, her eyes filled with panic. “I assume it was Jackson Merriwether. I heard he was back in town. What are you planning to do? Run away and meet him somewhere?”

Still Catherine was silent. I had a hard time relating the young woman I saw to the mean, violent spirit I knew. They were so completely different. This Catherine I pitied.

“N-no, I wasn’t g-going anywhere.”

William silenced her with a backhanded slap that just about knocked her off her feet. She fell against the bed sobbing. I imagine the cries had more to do with her missed opportunity to escape than the humiliation and pain he caused, which she was probably used to.

I watched as he advanced towards her, grabbing her hair and standing over her.

“Why are you crying? Your place is here beside me! I will never let you go, do you hear me?”

He tipped her face up and thrust his fist down on it with a savage force. Sick to my stomach I watched him repeat the movement over and over until her beautiful face was nothing more than a bloody, oozing mess.

As quickly as he started, he stopped. William panted and tried to catch his breath. When he did, he glanced down and saw what he’d done.

In a move that sickened me even more, he knelt down and brushed the bloody strands of hair from her face. “I’m so sorry Catherine. It makes me mad to think of you leaving. Promise you’ll never go. I love you so much. I need you.”

His arms enfolded her tenderly and drew her close. The air whistled and gurgled out of her ruined nose. Her hands came up and I wondered both how she still had the strength to do it and how she could return his hug.

Only she didn’t hug him back.

Catherine’s shaking hands reached up to his neck where they squeezed.

“You can’t hurt me anymore William. I never was yours.” Her voice was weak and strained as she struggled to draw in air as well as squeeze the life out of him.

It must have taken William by surprise because it took a few seconds for him to react. And when he did it was more violent than what I’d already witnessed.

I couldn’t watch.

Shutting my eyes tight I tried to block out the sounds of fighting and screaming. A snap echoed over to me, the sound of a bone being broken. I’d never heard anything like it in my entire life. Finally, there was a steady thumping sound and then silence. Well, silence except for the heavy ragged breaths of William.

He crouched over Catherine’s broken body with his hands gathered in her hair. From the blood pouring out of her head I guessed the thumps were William driving her into the floor repeatedly.

Vomit rose in my throat but I couldn’t tear my gaze away. Slowly, the scene in front of me faded, replaced by another.

I recognized the river but not the old wooden dock that jutted out into it. The night was quiet, accented only by the light of a half moon. William stumbled down the dock carrying a large sack over his shoulder.

Catherine.

He took one quick look around before tossing her body in the river as if it were nothing. Finally, the musty river scent I always smelled when Catherine was near made sense. That was where her body was tossed, nothing more than a piece of trash. As he watched it sink, he pulled the necklace out of his pocket and fingered it gently.

The scene faded once more and my normal backyard returned. I felt sweat cooling on my skin and bile still trying to force its way up my throat.

“What William didn’t know is that I was still alive when he tossed me in the river.”

I spun to find Catherine sitting on my bed, not as a shadow but as a form as real and solid as Margaret’s. Her long dark hair curled past her shoulders softening her face even more. Her skin was flawless, almost like porcelain. I expected her eyes to be cold and flat but they weren’t. I could see why, in her prime, Catherine had been the talk of the town.

My reaction surprised me. It wasn’t the cold fear I normally felt around her presence, not after the horrific scene I just watched. I felt pity and sadness.

Pitying her was dangerous. I couldn’t let myself forget what Margaret said about suspecting her involvement in my mama’s death. The safest thing right now was to push that aside and concentrate.

She continued talking, “The potato sack he stuffed me in was tied up too tight. The minute I hit the water I tried to struggle but you saw what he did to me. I had no strength left.”

Forcing myself to keep my guard up, I walked over to the desk and sat in the chair. This was a side of her I had no clue how to handle. Letting myself forget she’d tried to kill me multiple times was not an option.

“What happened to you was terrible, Catherine.”

She daintily raised an eyebrow at me. “I didn’t show you that so you would pity me. You wanted to know why I had a thirst for revenge and now you do.”

Wanting to steer clear of the revenge aspect, I changed the subject. “How come you could move the necklace tonight? The other day when you tried, it sparked at you.”

“Did you see me touch the necklace? Besides, who cares if I touch it or not, it’s mine anyway.”

“Margaret gave it to me,” I said feebly. Now I’d have an entirely different attitude about wearing it knowing it was on her neck the night she died.

“It wasn’t hers to give!” Catherine’s voice turned vicious and her image faded as the dark shadow grew in response. Then, I watched as she gathered herself together and became solid once more.

“So how is this going to work? Your killing me?”

Her pretty face twisted into a smirk. “What makes you think I’ll tell you?”

That was the problem. I had no clue. “We’re family. Even as much as you hate our family, it should matter to you a little.”

“It doesn’t. You’re confusing me with that pathetic thing you saw just now. I’ll come for you, Quinn but I’ll do it on my own power.” She stood and stalked toward me. I fought the urge to run. “Not everyone gets their happily ever after.”

Her words reminded me of Mama and I couldn’t stop the words that came out of my mouth.

“Did you do something to my mama? Were you responsible for her death?”

At first, I didn’t think she would answer me. Finally, she started laughing a cold, chilling laugh. “She was in the perfect position to help me get what I wanted. Unfortunately, she didn’t see the benefit of working with me. I couldn’t bend her to my will.”

The truth hit me hard in the gut. Margaret was right. The anger I’d been carrying since she shared her suspicions with me faded to grief. I was breathless and lightheaded and the room spun. Vaguely, I was aware of shaking my head back and forth in a silent denial.

Before I could say anything to Catherine, she disappeared in the blink of an eye.

I remained alone with my tears, my pain and a renewed determination to beat Catherine and send her to Hell where she belonged.