Forty-Four Box Set, Books 1-10 (44) (102 page)

He was drawn to the lights that led him to places from his past, cities that he once loved. Florence, London, Buenos Aires. Although cars and planes and boats were still available to him, so was thought and this was, by far, a superior mode of transportation. He enjoyed this new way of traveling. He discovered that if he focused on a location, a light would usually appear and guide him to it. It wasn’t always so easy to sidestep the dark voids, but with practice, he was getting better. 

When he was ready, he headed back to Boston. He visited his own grave, which was next to Emma’s, high up on a cliff overlooking the ocean. He lingered for a long time in his hometown, clinging to the hope that her ghost would come for him. He wandered around their neighborhood, waited in their old house, walked along the docks all night.

But he could never find her.

He began to wonder if she was angry with him and was staying away on purpose. Her ghost, after all, was around him when he was working on the island. She must be somewhere. He continued searching, but had no luck.

After some time, a dreadful realization hit. It wasn’t that Emma was hiding from him, it was something far worse. Maybe she couldn’t be with him because she wasn’t in his dim world. She had moved on, was somewhere else. Somewhere that he would never be allowed to go.

And they would never be together again.

He roamed the streets, screaming out her name as his heart broke into pieces, too many to count. The pain somehow worse than when she had first died all those years ago in his arms. His grief spun around inside him, dragging him down into a deep depression that swallowed him whole.

And that was when Nathaniel understood that Hell was, in fact, a real place. 

Time disappeared and he didn’t care about anything. He was a prisoner of his black thoughts, lost in anguish and despair.

Until.

It was subtle at first, but grew over time. A vivid thought infiltrated his mind and wouldn’t leave, slowly churning his sadness into anger. The thought became so strong, it catapulted him back out into the world, raising him up like a phoenix taking flight.

The thought was of his brother, Benjamin.

The rain wouldn’t let up. He glanced at the dense layer of clouds, wishing the priest would hurry along the prayers. A few people were crying. He was surprised that he could hear the sobs from so far away, and then pleasantly pleased. His senses seemed to be getting sharper all the time.

His eyes wandered over to her. She looked the same. Perhaps less naïve, but more beautiful than ever. He had become infatuated with her when she was little more than a girl. She was a woman now. It was clear to him why he had been so attracted to her in life. It was the brightness that poured from her, spilling far into the universe. It was the most brilliant light he had ever seen. And it was powerful to be near.

When she was close, he had learned that he could physically interact in her world.

Finally, the coffin was lowered and while the others scurried away, she stayed next to the grave all alone. The rain didn’t bother her. She just stood there in thought, mud from the mound of dirt next to the hole oozing around her feet. The wind carried her sadness to him, washing over his spirit like a baptism. Her essence, even heavyhearted, was intoxicating. He closed his eyes and soaked her in.

When he opened them again, a jolt ripped through him.

She was staring in his direction. He waited for her to look away, but she didn’t. There was no doubt about it. He wasn’t invisible to her any longer. She could see him.

She began walking toward him, her face twisted by grief and fear. And something else. There was a hint of anger and defiance in those eyes. As she came closer, her light grew larger and brighter, beaming into him. It was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long, long time. Warmth, like the sun.

He was anxious to greet her, but waited patiently as she weaved between the graves and stone monuments, through the rivers of dirt, and up the hill. He couldn’t tell if she had the same fear of him she used to have, but it didn’t matter. She kept coming.

He smiled.

We are players in our own opera, Abby,
he thought
, living our lives under the burning lights and golden chandeliers. We are the victims, the enemies, the kept-apart lovers. Our story began when I delivered you from the blackness all those years ago. But we are still just beginning, with many more scenes to play out on this grand stage.

Come to me, Abby.

Come.

CHAPTER 1

It was over before it had even begun.

“Really?” I said. “But that makes no sense.”

I sat across from Special Agent Donald Felder at the FBI’s Bend satellite office. He threw up his hands, his square, black-rimmed glasses pushed tightly against his face. He had just finished telling me that there would be no trial.

“It’s true,” he said. “At the last minute, Jack Martin and the others agreed to take the deal and plead guilty. Their attorneys called late last night, literally at the eleventh hour, 60 minutes before the offer was set to expire. There are a few formalities to iron out, but I’m confident it’s as good as done.”

I leaned back, trying to wrap my head around the fact that the man who had kidnapped and delivered me to Nathaniel Mortimer was actually going to accept a deal that would send him to prison for 20 years.

Special Agent Felder stared at me, waiting for my reaction, but I didn’t know what to say.

“Anything wrong?” he asked.

“It doesn’t sound like Jack,” I said finally. “It seems too… easy.”

From what I knew of Jack Martin, he didn’t seem like the type to give up without a fight. He escaped from that remote island in the Pacific Northwest near the Canadian border where I was being held captive. He was the last one taken into custody. And from what I had been led to believe, even though he was facing the most serious charges, he had the best chance of walking away.

Simon Shaffer, the scientist who had befriended me and tried to help me escape, had agreed to testify for the prosecution in return for immunity. I knew he would back up my story as far as what happened on the island. But regarding the kidnapping, it was basically going to be my word against Jack’s.

The district attorney was afraid that if a jury didn’t find him guilty of that crime, it might have a domino effect on the whole trial.

So why did he take the deal?

“In a lot of these cases, it comes down to fear,” Felder said. “Someone has to look in the mirror and say, ‘If this doesn’t go my way, am I ready to do the time?’ I don’t know for sure, but I think Martin’s answer was no. In the end he blinked. Excuse my French, Ms. Craig, but if you ask me, he simply shit his pants.”

I took a deep breath of the stuffy air. I knew it was good news, but it left me feeling empty. All the work I had done preparing for my testimony had been a big waste of time. Now there wouldn’t even be a trial next week.

“And he’s really pleading guilty to all of the charges we talked about?”

“Yes and no,” Felder said, opening a folder on his desk and reading from it. “The lesser charges, the kidnapping and unlawful imprisonment, are being dropped. But he’s pleading guilty to the big one: attempted murder.”

I looked out the window at the Deschutes River in the distance. It was a cold and beautiful February day. A soft snow was falling, painting the rocks and trees white. 

“Ms. Craig, this is really good news,” he said. “I mentioned before that this case wasn’t a slam dunk. Proving attempted murder wasn’t going to be easy. He could have walked.”

Jack had denied any involvement with Nathaniel Mortimer and claimed he didn’t even know him. Felder believed that had there been a trial, the defense would relentlessly attack my credibility as a witness. They would probably claim that I was confused and not in my right mind at the time. That the drugs—drugs they had given me—had distorted my perception.

The other defendants would back up his story, even though it was a ridiculous lie. Felder had reminded me often that anything could happen in a trial. Jack could manipulate the facts and have the jury eating out of his hand. I was all too familiar with how good he was at pretending to be something he wasn’t.

“I know,” I said. “It’s good he’s going to prison. But it feels kind of weird the way it was done.”

For the last six weeks I had been meeting with Felder and going over the case. At first, I was dreading the trial. I couldn’t even talk about what had happened without sounding unsure and scared. I knew I somehow had to convince a jury that a mad scientist had taken me hostage to conduct experiments on me to test a serum that could bring the dead back to life. And I knew how it sounded. Completely insane. It was the stuff of bad horror movies. Or at the very least the product of a drug-induced hallucination.

But last week something changed. A quiet determination started growing inside me. I was going to tell the truth. I was going to explain what happened. They had kidnapped and tortured me. They had tried to drown me. All in the name of science.

I felt confident as I recited the facts. A new calmness had taken hold.

I didn’t feel like a victim anymore. I wanted justice. I wanted to see Jack Martin and the others get what they deserved. And for him to see that he hadn’t broken me. That not only had I survived the ordeal but was made stronger by it.

“If it’s worth anything,” Felder said, bringing me back to the present. “I know you would have done a good job up on the witness stand. You were ready.”

He closed the file on his desk and stood up.

“It was terrible what happened to you and I know you wanted your day in court,” he said. “But when you have time to think about it, you’ll come to realize that this was a positive outcome.”

I liked Felder. He reminded me a lot of the FBI agents in movies and television shows: young, well-dressed, and a little uptight. His shirts were always crisp and ironed, his shoes always shined. He had an aggressiveness that made me feel that my case was in good hands. I sensed that we wanted the same things.

“One more thing I think you’ll be happy about,” he said after I shook his hand. “Both sides are asking to have the case sealed. Your identity won’t be made public.”

That did make me happy.

“Really?” I said, unable to conceal a smile.

“Your sister will be glad to hear that. I know how concerned she was about you having to deal with all the publicity a trial would bring.”

When she could, Kate usually came with me to these meetings, but she was out on a story. I couldn’t wait to tell her.

“Enjoy the win, Ms. Craig. Because that’s what it is.”

I passed by the secretary at the desk in the reception area, pushed open the glass door, and walked into an icy wind that rushed up to meet me.

No trial. No testifying in Seattle. No seeing Jack Martin ever again. Well, at least for 20 years.

I smiled.

CHAPTER 2

I sat in the Jeep for a while watching the snowflakes flutter down through the pine trees and onto the windshield. I tried to take it all in.

Then I sent Kate a text letting her know that there wasn’t going to be a trial. She had rushed out of the house earlier to cover a story that involved a lockdown at a middle school, so it didn’t surprise me that she didn’t call me back.

I called Ty and told him the news.

“That’s epic!” he said. “Let’s go get some breakfast.”

“But I thought you were heading up to the mountain.”

Ty was still putting in some hours each week at Mt. Bachelor as a ski instructor. I had planned on going up with him to get a few runs in before work until I got the call from Special Agent Felder.

“Not anymore,” he said. “I feel a fever coming on. And the only prescription is—”

“More cowbell?”

“Well, yes, but also more you. And maybe a breakfast burrito.”

“Sounds like a cure,” I said. “I can swing by and pick you up.”

“I’m out here getting some ski wax, so how ‘bout I meet you at Jackson’s Corner in 15 minutes?”

“Perfect. See you in a few.”

I slid my phone in my pocket as I watched Special Agent Felder peel out of the lot. 

***

Ty gave me a long kiss as we stood in front of the restaurant in the frosty air.

“It’s good it’s over,” he said.

His white energy bounced around him and his eyes were relaxed and happy. He took my hand and we carefully skated across the slippery sidewalk to the door. Inside, we were welcomed by a blast of warm air, reggae music, and laughter. The small restaurant was busy, like it always was, but I didn’t mind. It was nice to be around cheerful people.

“You get that table and I’ll order. Do you want the usual or are you feeling adventurous today?”

We had been coming here a lot lately.

“Yeah, the usual,” I said.

“Okay then. One Corner Cristo it is. I’ll catch up in a minute.”

He got in line and I headed to a window table and sat down. A middle-aged couple was taking a bite from each other’s plates and nodding. A little boy wearing a super tight T-shirt was picking his nose. There was a line for the men’s bathroom.

Outside, cars were parked on the street as the snow continued to fall. An old man skated by like Fred Astaire.

Ty came over carrying two cups of coffee and put them on the table. The way the muted winter light touched his face made me smile. There was a sparkle in his eyes that made me feel warm all over.

He grinned, like he was reading my mind.

“That’s really great,” he said after I filled him in on the details. “Those people get what they deserve, at least a taste of what they deserve, and you don’t have to go through all that stress.”

Ty had been really great in helping me get ready for the trial. He insisted on hearing about everything that had happened on the island, and I opened up and told him without holding back. He listened to it all, even the part about Jesse being with me sometimes.