Forty-Four Box Set, Books 1-10 (44) (100 page)

“Let go or I’ll call the cops!” she said, pushing him back.

He lost his balance and slipped, falling on the ground.

She started walking away from him.

“Run!” I shouted.

He was right behind her now.

They were coming toward me. But this time I didn’t hide behind the chairs. Instead, even with the fear inside me stronger than ever, I took a step toward her.

Her shirt was ripped open, her bra exposed. Thick black streaks of mascara ran down her face. Her left eye swollen and dark, her lip cut with a small amount of blood dripping from it.

He caught up to her under the light.

“Leave her alone!” I shouted.

He turned, still holding her, and for the first time I could see his face. But it wasn’t Sutter’s face I saw.

“Abby? From Back Street?” he said, his voice sugar sweet again. “Is that you?”

He came closer.

The professor from the college.

Elliot Beverly.

“It is you,” he said. “Merry Christmas, Abby.”

Black energy rose off him in waves. Somehow I had missed it before. The evil that was there. There all along. But I could feel it now in my bones.

“Let her go,” I said again, my hand in my pocket. “I have a gun.”

“No need for violence,” he said, smiling. “April here and I just had a slight misunderstanding. But we’re good now. Right, April?”

I could see him digging his fingers into her arm. She struggled to break free.

“Let her go,” I said, pointing my index finger at him through my coat.

“Let’s see it then,” he whispered. “You don’t have a gun.”

I stood there staring, trying to convince him with my eyes that it was the truth. But he could see through me.

“You don’t have a gun,” he repeated. “But I have
this
.”

Through the falling snow I saw the reflection, shiny and metallic.

The knife.

And then I heard the bells.

He held the blade up to her throat.

“I’m sorry, Abby,” she cried. “You were right. I should have listened to you.”

“Right about what?” he said, looking right at me with the eyes of a monster.

More bells.

We were out of time. He was going to kill her. And then kill me.

I pulled my empty hand out of my pocket.

He smiled.

“Right about what, Abby?”

I saw him pull back the knife slightly. I couldn’t think of what else to do.

“About the bells,” I said, lunging toward him with all my might.

I felt the warm spray on my face. April fell to the ground, clutching her neck. The blood squeezed out between her fingers. He turned to face me.

“Your turn, Abby,” he said, his eyes glowing in the snow.

The bells had stopped.

I backed up toward the wall.

He took a step toward me. And then another. He was on top of me.

“Your turn.”

This was the end.

CHAPTER 52

Suddenly I saw a dark shadow, like a blur, out of the corner of my eye. The ghost, I thought. Come to bear witness to another death.

A moment later it plowed into Beverly like Clay Matthews bringing down a defenseless quarterback.

I saw the knife fly through the air, heard it crash into the bricks.

Stunned, Beverly got up and tried to run. But the ghost pulled him back. Fists rained down on his body and head. And then he slumped down into the snow.

“Abby? Are you all right?”

It was
Ty
.

He helped me to my feet.

“I think so,” I said, still unable to believe it. “But April…”

We turned and ran to her.

She was still alive, still conscious, still holding her neck.

Ty pulled out his phone.

“Let me see,” I said, prying her fingers away from the wound.

There was a lot of blood, but not as much as in the visions. Maybe the cut wasn’t so deep. Maybe it hadn’t hit an artery.

I covered her with my jacket and applied pressure to her neck.

“Paramedics are on their way,” Ty said.

“Hang on, April,” I said. “You’ll be okay.”

When the paramedics arrived, they wrapped the wound with a large bandage. Her vital signs were stable. I held her hand as they loaded her into the ambulance.

“Thank you, Abby,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

CHAPTER 53

“Looks like someone had their Wheaties this morning,” I said, kissing Ty’s battered knuckles. “You were amazing.”

The police had Elliot Beverly in handcuffs over by the row of chairs. They were giving us a moment before they brought us in for questioning.

“I don’t know,” Ty said. “Something just took over.”

“But how did you know? To be out here?”

“I didn’t forget what you said about the snow, in your vision,” he said. “I saw that I had missed your call, and it wasn’t snowing yet but I made my way down here anyway. Just in case.”

“And you didn’t even have any constellations to guide you,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“No, nothing. Just what you said that time about you not being my hero, my Perseus,” I said, looking up into his eyes. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

I hugged him before they put us in the back of the squad car.

***

They didn’t keep us too long.

Ty and I repeated the story we had come up with while we waited for the paramedics. I was walking around and had called him. He showed up and saw a man with a knife coming after me. I left out the part about my visions, but we were careful not to say anything that was an outright lie.

When they talked to her, April would probably punch some holes in my story. But I would deal with that later. For now, she was on her way to the hospital and Elliot Beverly was behind bars.

The detective in charge seemed to accept our version of things. He appeared to be in a hurry to get home.

“Nobody needs this on Christmas Eve,” he said, seeing us out. “I’m sure we’ll have more questions for you in the coming days. But for now, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” I said.

It was all white outside, like in the first visions.

The snow had finally come.

CHAPTER 54

They released April from the hospital in the morning.

She called me. The doctor had told her she had been lucky. A quarter inch more and she would have probably died.

“I’m back home with my parents,” she said. “I just wanted to say thank you again, Abby. You saved my life. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to what you were trying to tell me.”

“Well, it was a crazy story,” I said. “I’m not sure I would have believed it either.”

I wasn’t sure that I had saved her either. I don’t know what would have happened if Ty hadn’t shown up. But maybe I had knocked Elliot Beverly off balance enough to prevent the wound from being fatal. Maybe I had done enough. Just enough.

“Anyway, thanks again,” she said. “And Merry Christmas.”

“You too,” I said. “Merry Christmas.”

Kate later found out that Elliot Beverly had been a person of interest in the murder of one of his college students in Ohio. He admitted to having an affair with the young woman and was believed to have been the last person to see her alive. But investigators couldn’t find enough evidence and had to let him go. Soon after that, he moved to Bend and got a job at the college here.

The victim’s name was Emily Richards. The ghost.

“She went missing last year before the first snow,” Kate said. “They found her in a ditch in the spring, when the snow melted. Her throat had been slashed.”

I thought back to the wet-looking hair and the cold feeling that came off of her whenever I saw her.

“They’ll probably reopen that case,” Kate said. “Maybe they can link the knife. Or maybe the bastard will confess to it now. And he’s facing sexual assault and attempted murder charges here.”

I nodded.

“He’s bad, Abby. Really bad,” she said. “He seemed to prefer a certain type. The woman in Ohio and April look like they could have been sisters. You might have saved a lot of people. Women you don’t even know.

“He might have just been getting started.”

CHAPTER 55

It had snowed nonstop all day.

The night was magical. Like Christmas should be.

The guests started to arrive at four.

Erin. Dr. Krowe. Paloma and Rosie. Lyle. Some reporters and former reporters from
The Bugler
. Even Mo showed up. And David.

Somehow he had made it back from Portland and through the pass just before they closed it. The part of Detective Slocum had gone to someone else. But as he had suspected, the producers were creating a special character just for him. There were still details to work out, but it looked like he might have a recurring role in the series.

“That’s just incredible, David Norton,” I said, giving him a big hug. “I’m so happy for you!”

“So, Abby Craig, here’s your present,” he said later, slipping a small box into my hand as I stood by the stove, stirring the soup.

I put the wooden spoon down and opened it. It was a silver necklace with an image of a small hand, a labyrinth inside it with a tiny stone in the middle.

“David, it’s so beautiful,” I said, taking it out of the box and looking at it. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s for protection. You know, from all those nasty demons you keep attracting. I figured you needed a little good energy around you at all times. See? The hand is like, ‘Stay back, you bad things.’ And then the little stone symbolizes water. ‘Cause it’s not like you’re a mermaid or anything, but you’re kinda from the water.”

I smiled and gave him another long hug.

“Where did you find it?” I asked.

“In a little New Age shop in northeast Portland. It just jumped out at me and said, ‘Abby Craig!’”

“Thank you, David.” I put it on and touched it. “It’s perfect.”

Kate walked in, her arm around someone I didn’t know. They both seemed to glow, their energy fast and swirling like paint.

“This is Evan,” she said.

“I’ll say,” David said.

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

“Very nice meeting you,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “I’ve heard so much about you. And about what a great cook you are. I can’t wait to eat!”

“Well, let’s hope it all works out tonight,” I said.

“Abby always says that,” Kate said. “When are you announcing the menu, oh, modest one?”

I handed her a piece of paper.

“Here,” I said. “I’ll let you. Or maybe you can just hang it up outside the kitchen.”

“I can do it,” Evan said.

He walked out and I smiled at Kate.

“So you really like him, huh?” I said.

“Yeah,” she said.

“Me too,” David said.

“I thought they were firing reporters over there, not hiring. He’s new, right?”

“No, he isn’t a reporter. He’s a firefighter,” she said, looking around. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Well, I think everything’s under control,” I said, taking off my apron. “Maybe you could just keep an eye on things and play bartender. I’ll be back in 15 minutes.”

“I can play bartender, Abby Craig,” David said.

“Isn’t that like leaving Dracula in charge of the blood bank?” I said, laughing.

“No, blood jokes from you, young lady,” he said. “Thank you very much.”

I grabbed my jacket and scarf and drove to the Community Center. Angie was waiting for me with Carl, the old man with the sick cat.

“Ready, Carl?” I said, opening the passenger door for him.

“You bet I am.”

“That’s real nice of you,” Angie said. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas,” I said.

Carl talked about his cat the whole drive back.

***

After dinner we all sat around the living room, laughing and drinking wine, listening to each other’s stories while Chet Baker played softly in the background.

David reenacted his audition and everyone clapped at the end. I talked with Dr. Krowe about getting back on the racquetball court when his cast came off in late January. Erin and Kate whispered in the corner. Carl talked about how his cat seemed to be feeling better. And I even thought I saw Mo smile once.

As I got up to check on dessert, I heard Lyle telling Paloma that he would love to take her out for a photo shoot in the trees. She shrugged and caught my eye, smiling. But I noticed she hadn’t said no.

I walked into the kitchen with a stack of plates and took out the biscotti and wine.

“Hey, Craigers,” I heard from behind.

I smiled and turned around. Jesse was standing by the sliding glass door, his eyes bright and shiny. I walked over and gave him a long hug.

“Merry Christmas, Jesse.”

“Looks like dinner was a big success,” he said, staring at all the pots and pans. “And that you’ll be out here cleaning up until New Year’s.”

“Tell me about it,” I said. “But it was worth it. Everything came together. It was special.”

A wave of laughter rolled in from the living room and he smiled, pushing up his cap.

“So this is what you’re going to do, huh? Head back to school?”

I hadn’t told Jesse about the Culinary Institute and I stared at him for a moment.

“Have you been spying on me?”

“A blind man could see how happy all this makes you,” he said. “So it’s not so hard for a dead man to see it too. You look good when you’re cooking.”

I laughed at that. My hair was a mess and the constant sweat as I stood for hours over the hot stove had left my face in a state of major meltdown. 

“I mean it,” he said. “You glow when you’re in the kitchen. Seems like a good career choice.”

I heard the doorbell.

“Sounds like your last guest has arrived,” Jesse said, pausing. “Finally.”

He leaned down and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Craigers,” he said. “See you out on the court.”

CHAPTER 56