The Ghosts of Cragera Bay (20 page)

Brynn smiled and slowly approached the table were Hildy Banks waited. She was small, with a cloud of white hair falling to her shoulders, bright sky-blue eyes peering out from her heavily lined face. A frown pulled at her brows, her light gaze clouded.

“Mr. James?” Her voice squeaked like a rusty hinge that hadn’t been used in years. “Is that you?”

She thought he was his father. His insides squeezed, and he shook his head, slowly lowering himself into the chair opposite her. “I’m Declan, his son. My mother was Amy James. My father, Mr. James, died.”

Her smile lit her face. “She did it. She kept you safe.”

Her words sent a chill dancing along his spine. What had his mother kept him safe from? Brynn sat in the chair next to him, and Hildy’s gaze narrowed as she leaned closer to Declan.

“I don’t like that one.”

“I’m not Meris,” Brynn said, quickly. Likely assuming that if Hildy had confused him with Arthur, she might confuse Brynn with her mother. “I’m her daughter, Brynn.”

“Of course, you’re not her. I get confused sometimes.” The woman blinked as if she were fighting that confusion now. “Your mother was a wicked woman. I knew what she’d tried to do to you. I found the books spread out in her room like instructions. She thought if she killed you she’d live forever. I knew what was happening. I contacted your grandparents and they came for you. That’s when she convinced Mr. James to send me away. I knew too much.”

The story the woman told churned Declan’s stomach and iced his blood, and gauging from the way the color drained from Brynn’s face she felt the same way. Without thinking, he reached over and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. She shot him an uneasy smile.

“What were the books?” Proof, maybe, of what had happened at Stonecliff, or maybe some sort of explanation for them?

“They were his. That imp who ran Stonecliff,” the old woman said with a sudden bitterness. “When your parents came to the estate they were so happy, so in love, but that man chipped away at your father until he twisted him, and made Arthur as warped as he was.”

“Do you mean Hugh Warlow?” Declan asked.

“Your mother saw what was happening. She was pregnant with you, and she knew that if you were a boy he would take you to The Devil’s Eye. Arthur believed that man’s stories, believed he would live forever—instead he was trapped in a hell on Earth.”

His mouth had gone dry. Would his father have sacrificed him to The Devil’s Eye? Is that what had sent his mother running? Is that what Brynn’s mother had tried to do to her?

“Where are these books now?” he asked.

She laughed, a high chuckle that sounded just a little manic. He and Brynn exchanged uneasy glances. Julie looked up from her puzzle and frowned.

“That’s how your mother kept you safe. I sent the books to her, and while she had them, she knew your father would leave you alone.” She smiled brightly, clearly delighted with herself. A picture was forming in his head. He needed to find those books to see if he was right. “What happened to the other little girl? I tried to protect her as best I could. Oh, but Meris was a wicked thing.”

“Eleri’s doing well. She’s engaged and moved away from Cragera Bay,” Brynn said.

Hildy’s smile faded and she cast Brynn a sidelong look. Her mouth tightened. “I know what you did,” she said, her voice gaining strength. “I know what you are.”

“She’s Brynn, not Meris,” Declan said, quickly.

Hildy didn’t register his words. She pointed a gnarled finger at Brynn. “You’re wicked. Evil like that place you love so much. But you’ll see. Hell is hot.”

“All right, Mrs. Banks,” Julie said, hurrying over and gripping the wheelchair handles. “Time for a rest. You’ve had such busy day.” She turned Hildy so she couldn’t see Declan or Brynn, then said to them, “You’ll have to leave now. She gets agitated when she gets confused.”

“Thank you for letting us speak to her,” Brynn said, her voice rasped.

Julie led them out, and Sylvie stared them down as they crossed the lobby and walked outside. The cold sea air slapped at Declan’s face the moment he stepped outside, feeding the cold dread spreading inside him. If half of what that woman said was true… The implications were terrifying.

Both he and Brynn walked back to the Land Rover in silence. Not until he was on the road and headed back to Stonecliff, did Brynn speak.

“Did you believe her?” She looked as pale and shaken as he felt.

“Yeah, I did. You?”

She nodded.

“How old are you?” he asked.

She blinked. “I’m twenty-six. I’ll be twenty-seven in January.”

“And you were three when your mother tried to—” He couldn’t say the words out aloud.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

He would have been nine, the same time he and his mother stopped running. His mother must have stayed in touch with Hildy Banks all that time for the woman to have known where to send her anything. The housekeeper could have been a means for her mother to know whether his father was close to tracking them down.

“My mother sent me letters while I was growing up. One every year on my birthday,” Brynn said, her gaze fixed on the rapidly passing scenery. “My grandparents kept them from me. After all, I believed she was dead. I didn’t find them until just before I came here. In the letters, Meris would gush about how much she loved me. I never understood why she wrote them when she’d tried to do that to me as a child. But now… Do you think she was trying to get me to come back? That she believed if she drowned me in that bog, she’d live forever?”

“I don’t know,” Declan said, though it sounded very likely to him. Why anyone believed drowning their child in The Devil’s Eye would make them immortal was beyond him. Besides the possibility being too farfetched to consider, none of Carly’s research had touched on immortality. “I keep thinking of Warlow turning up in Seattle out of nowhere just before Arthur died, and how desperate he’d been to get me to go back. Had the plan been to kill me if I did?”

Hugh Warlow had been a different man since he’d arrived, helpful, patient and kind. Had he been grooming Declan to take his father’s place? To kidnap and kill people at The Devil’s Eye? Had that been what all those speeches about duty and legacy had been for? He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly tight.

“Whatever happened or is happening at The Devil’s Eye, Hugh Warlow is at the core of it. He’ll know where Andy is. We need to warn Reece and Carly so they know how dangerous the man is.”

* * *

“When are you coming home?” Allen asked, as soon as he realized it was Declan on the phone. “I don’t know what to do with Josh. He sleeps half the day, the other half he spends watching television or playing video games. He’s twenty-four years old for God’s sake. Then he’s out with his friends all damn night and it starts all over again the next day.”

Declan’s grip on his phone tightened.
I’m fine, by the way
.
Thanks for asking.
“I might have to stay longer then I first thought. Another week, maybe, before I can get back. There’ve been complications.”

And after listening to his stepfather’s litany of complaints about Josh, going home held about as much appeal as staying here and winding up the next victim of The Devil’s Eye. Though, after the conversation he’d just had with Carly and Reece in the kitchen, his role was perpetrator, not victim. Learning Reece had made contact with the burned woman, had been a relief at first. Neither of his sisters had any experiences with her, and if not for the brief flash Carly caught with her camera, he’d have had no corroborating evidence that she existed at all. His relief had been short lived, however, once Reece told him what the burned woman had said. Declan stood from the desk in the study and crossed the room to the French doors and peered out into the black. Slick knots tangled his insides.

“You need to speak to him. Maybe help him find another job.”

He drew a deep breath. “I will when I get back, but I called about something else. Do you know if Mom had some old books, journals or diaries? They might be valuable, so maybe she kept them hidden?”

“I don’t know, Declan,” Allen said, his voice turning soft. “Don’t ask me to go through her things. I can’t. Not yet.”

Frustration bubbled inside him like geyser on the brink of exploding. He wanted to yell, to stomp his feet.
I lost her, too, and she was my mother long before she became your wife. Now, pull your shit together and help me.
He closed his eyes, swallowed down the words. “I need to find those books. Maybe get Katie to look for them.”

“I don’t think your mother had anything like that,” Allen said, sounding a little like a sulky child.

“She did, believe me. They were valuable to her. She would have kept them safe.”

“She had a safety-deposit box for some jewelry her grandmother had passed down to her. She was worried Josh would find it and pawn it.”

Excitement surged inside Declan. “Can you go tomorrow to see if they’re there?”

“You’re coming home in a few days. What do you need them for that it can’t wait until then?”

“It’s important. Please.”

“You don’t understand. It’s so hard for me.”

“It’s hard for all of us, Allen,” he snapped, and wished he could call the words back as soon as they left his mouth.

“You’re right.” Allen’s voice seemed to shrink. “I’ll go tomorrow, and call you if I find them.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” He felt like the world’s biggest asshole.

“Take care, Declan.” And the call ended.

“Shit,” he muttered, and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the cold glass. He was too keyed up, his nerves pulled taut like a spring ready to snap.

He couldn’t believe he’d spoken to the man like that. As frustrated as he was with Allen, the man had been good to him. The closest thing he’d had to a father—especially when he considered the madman whose DNA pumped through his veins. Whom he would apparently become, whether he wanted to or not.

Reece’s experience with the burned woman played through his head. She’d said they should kill him so that people would stop dying at The Devil’s Eye. A part of him rebelled against the possibility. He knew who he was, and he wouldn’t kill anyone. And yet on some level it seemed as though all of this had been inevitable from the moment Hugh Warlow had first called him. Even now he felt like he was sliding down the side of a cliff, and when he dug in his feet, grabbed at the loose stones beneath him, he couldn’t stop his descent.

“Brynn just called,” Carly said from behind him.

He turned around to where she stood just inside the doorway. Her hair fell in soft waves, warm brown around her shoulders. He had to fight the urge to close his eyes and bury his face in the soft mass.

“She tried you first, but you didn’t pick up.”

“I was talking to my stepfather. Is everything okay?”

She nodded. “They got to Beaumaris. No sign of Andy or Warlow.”

When he and Brynn had returned to Stonecliff, he’d gone searching for the butler. He was determined to beat the truth out of the man if he had to, but Warlow had gone. Mrs. Voyle told them that he’d said he was going to check on Arthur’s properties in Beaumaris. Since the search of Morehead and the rest of the estate hadn’t turned up any sign of Andy, they’d considered the possibility that Warlow had been keeping him stashed away there. But no such luck.

“They’ve decided to check into a hotel and stay the night since it’s so late. They’ll be back tomorrow.”

Of course, they’d be back. They had their plan B, if Beaumaris didn’t lead them to Andy. Tomorrow was the first, Samhain. If they were right, and Warlow had taken Andy as
harvest
, Warlow would bring him to The Devil’s Eye tomorrow night. And they would be waiting.

“That’s probably for the best.” He didn’t like the idea of them splitting up the way they had—when had this sister he’d never known started to matter to him?—but there had been no way around it. Someone had to stay at Stonecliff to wait for Warlow. “I don’t think Warlow will be back tonight.”

“It’s almost as though he knows we’ve figured him out.” She blew out a long sigh and sank into one of the chairs in front of the desk. He couldn’t help but notice the way her faded blue jeans hugged her long, slender legs. Or the way her fitted sweater clung to the gentle dip at her waist. With everything he’d gone through, he wanted to lose himself in her touch, her kiss, forget everything. But maybe he was putting her in danger by letting her stay. Maybe the longer she was with him, the more likely she would run from him the way his mother had from his father. Or maybe she wouldn’t be as lucky, and she’d miss her opportunity to get to safety.

“You should go,” he said, almost to himself.

Chapter Sixteen

Carly blinked, Declan’s words barely registering. Surely she hadn’t heard him right. She touched a finger to her ear. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“It’s dangerous here. You should get away from Stonecliff, away from Cragera Bay, before it’s too late.”

Her eyes flashed like silver, and she drew a deep breath as if to calm herself. “Let’s forget for just a moment that Andy is still out there somewhere—do you honestly think I would walk away from you now to deal with all this on your own?”

“You heard what the burned woman said to Reece about me.”

She rolled her eyes. “We’re not going to kill you, Declan.”

“What if I end up like my father?”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“The burned woman said—”

“I don’t care what she said,” Cary said, furiously. She stood and closed the distance between them. “She’s wrong. It’s not who you are.”

“You don’t know that. Hildy Banks said my parents were happy and in love when they arrived here, and look what happened to him, who he became.”

She threw her arms in the air. “Oh, everybody is happy and in love when they first marry. My parents were, too, and now they barely speak.”

“Whatever marital problems your parents may have, I bet your mother didn’t have to take you into hiding because she was afraid your father would drown you in the bog.”

No, she’d merely sacrificed everything that meant anything to her to feed his ravenous ego. Though, Declan did have a point. Her father wasn’t psychotic like his must have been, but neither was Declan.