44 plus 2
A paranormal mystery 3-pack:
Jools Sinclair * Elizabeth Paine * Allison Karras
Published by You Come Too Publishing at Smashwords
Copyright © 2011 Jools Sinclair, Elizabeth Paine, Allison Karras
44
by
Jools Sinclair
America’s First Vampire Hunter
by
Elizabeth Paine
Demon Resurrection
(The Samantha Carver Saga, Book One)
by
Allison Karras
You Come Too Publishing
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in, or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
44 plus 2
A paranormal mystery 3-pack
CONTENTS
America’s First Vampire Hunter
by
Jools Sinclair
Published by You Come Too Publishing at Smashwords
Copyright © 2011 Jools Sinclair
You Come Too Publishing
44…
Last year after falling through the ice, seventeen-year-old Abby Craig woke up from death.
But she woke into a world she barely recognizes. She can’t see colors, memories have been erased, and her friends all hate her. And then there’s Jesse, who she loves, but who refuses to forgive her the one mistake she made long ago.
Just when she thinks it can’t get any worse, the visions begin. In them, she sees a faceless serial killer roaming the streets. While the police believe that there have been a lot of accidents in town lately, Abby knows differently. And she soon realizes that it’s up to her to find him.
But to stop him, she’ll have to confront more than just the killer. She’ll have to face something else that was lost in those dark waters. The truth.
In the tradition of Amanda Hocking, 44 is a thrilling paranormal romance mystery novel that keeps readers at the edge of their seats and glued to the very end. The ending will haunt you forever.
Praise for 44
*****
A FANTASTIC novel! 44 was just about impossible to put down once I started. From the very beginning, there was an air of mystery that kept me on the edge of my seat… I highly recommend this fantastic novel!
The Caffeinated Diva
*****
Everything from the setting, to the time frame, to the characters, was beautifully developed. This book is truly a gem and I highly recommend it. It literally took my breath away.
Avery’s Book Review
*****
Sinclair sucked me in like a vacuum cleaner sucks up dirt. She brings mystery, love, and friendship to the book and weaves a lovely tale.
Just Another Book Addict
*****
IMPRESSIVE! 44 is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and will take readers by storm. With so much information in such a small book it will impress readers to the detail and depth in so few pages. The conclusion will take your breath away. Don’t miss you chance to check out this amazing story.
The Book Whisperer
*****
Fantastic, edge of your seat thriller. A MUST READ! It twists you about and as soon as you think you have it all figured out, throws you for the final loop with an ending that will break the hardest heart.
Wormhole
44 Book Two
now available wherever
eBooks are sold
to C and M…
the best of the best of the best
PROLOGUE
I know I’m lucky.
Lucky to be alive, lucky to be able to walk again, to inhale the juniper-laced air and watch the soft leaves change into crispy ones scattering in the wind. I can spend afternoons with Jesse as he plummets down the steep hills around town on his skateboard. I can watch Barcelona soccer games on satellite, eat pizza, and even see those dumb reality TV shows late at night.
I’ve been on the other side and I’m grateful that I’m here. My life is good, most days.
But this morning wasn’t like most days.
The wind had a bite and as I stood at the edge of the river, ice pellets drilled into my face. The sky was slab gray, with low clouds pushing down around me.
She was there. Floating under the footbridge, snagged and hidden in bony branches and moving in a subtle, unnatural rhythm that the dead dance to when submerged in water. The river rushed around her, forming small riffles at her feet, as if she had always been there, belonging like a large boulder or a rooted tree.
In my vision the night before, I watched her die. It started soon after I drifted off to sleep. The night was pitchfork-sharp and her fear radiated in waves through me as she ran, trying to get away from him. She slipped, falling hard onto the icy pavement, her screams lost in the hollow, empty night as he wrapped his arm around her neck until she fell quiet into his arms.
These visions that started months ago have me following in the footsteps of a serial killer I’ve yet to see, as he roams the city looking for his next victim, never satisfied and always needing.
I stood in the shadows and watched like it was a scene from a movie. I knew I could do nothing. He picked her up and brought her to the water, held her head down. Then he sat next to her, stroking her hair.
But this time, I was ready. I only needed a glimpse. If I could see his face in my vision, I could find him in reality. I summoned my courage, forced myself to swallow the bile that shot up in the back of my throat and followed him as he strolled arrogantly away.
The moon was bright, beams threading through the trees, leaving thick shadows. Instinctually, I backed into the darkness as he suddenly stopped, even though I knew he wouldn’t be able to see me. His breath leaked out in ghostly wisps as he stood silent.
Finally, he turned around, his eyes hooking into mine. He saw me. Somehow he cut through my murky vision and saw me.
But I saw him too. And now I knew who he was.
He stared a while, still and contemplative, as I fought my urge to run. But he didn’t come after me. The bastard just stood there, and then smiled, before stepping away and disappearing into the lonely night.
CHAPTER 1
Five Months Ago…
“Can you get the door?” Kate yelled from the bedroom. I was sitting on the sofa, watching that show where three guys lock themselves in abandoned hospitals and prisons and then videotape each other pretending to see ghosts. Mostly the show makes me laugh, but once in a while it gives me chills.
It was dinnertime, so I was sure that it was Matt, Kate’s boyfriend. As I swung the door open and rolled my eyes, I jumped back. It wasn’t Matt.
“Hi, Abigail,” Dr. Mortimer said.
“Oh, hi,” I said, a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”
“Well, I’m glad I’m not whoever you thought it was,” he said, smiling.
He stood on the porch, his thick, black hair full of soft white flakes. His eyes were bright and as he smiled, small wrinkles surrounded them, making him look extra happy.
“Please, come in,” I said.
“I was just in the neighborhood,” he said. “Thought I would check on my favorite patient as long as I was out and about. If that’s okay?”
“Of course,” I said.
Dr. Mortimer had gotten into the habit of stopping by a few times a month to check up on me. He worked the night shift in the emergency room and even though he saved my life and I liked him quite a lot, I was never comfortable around him. I felt like he was always studying me.
I took his coat and hung it up on the rack and we walked to the living room.
“Can I get you a soda or something?” I asked as he sat on the sofa.
“Oh, no. But I’d take a glass of water.”
I was hoping that Kate would emerge from her room and join us. She was good at talking to people effortlessly about anything, plus I was still holding out hope that there could be a romantic spark between them. Dr. Mortimer was perfect for Kate. He was young and good looking, ambitious, and had a nice relaxed way about him that could balance Kate’s intensity. I also knew that he liked her a lot. I just wished that she would notice him, take an interest, and forget about Matt.
But she didn’t come out and I was on my own. I headed back from the kitchen and handed him a small bottled water.
“Thanks,” he said, twisting open the lid and taking a long sip.
He looked tired. It must have been all those long night shifts, stacked one after the other.
“How are you feeling by the way?” he asked.
“Okay,” I said.
He looked around the house for a moment and we let the silence sit. Eventually his eyes wandered back to mine.
“How are you getting around?”
“Pretty good,” I said.
“And soccer?”
“I make a good mascot,” I said, trying to laugh casually afterwards. “It’s just not happening this year.”
Initially Coach Wilson and the team were excited that I would be back. That was, until they saw me run. Or rather my horrible zombie interpretation of it. I’ll never forget the look on the coach’s face when he realized that his Olympic Development player really was gone, along with the team’s shot at the state title. Now I mostly sat on the bench during the games.
“That’s tough,” Dr. Mortimer said, looking guilty.
“Naw, I do okay. Really. I don’t even care about it anymore,” I said.
We stared at the TV, which was still on, but low. I flipped the station back to the news because I knew Kate would have a cow if she walked out and it wasn’t on. The weather guy was in the middle of his forecast, predicting heavy snow.
“It looks like you’ve been working a lot,” I finally said.
“Yeah. It was hard last night,” he said, leaning back. “Heart attack and a kid mauled by a dog.”
“That’s terrible,” I said.
He took another sip from the bottle.
“How about your classes? Any progress?”
“They’re okay,” I said. “I still have problems remembering things for tests and stuff, but the teachers are giving me a pass, at least for now. That and a few volunteers who help me study.”
Truthfully, my grades were in the gutter and I knew it didn’t matter what the teachers thought or did because there was no way I’d be going to college next year.
“I know we’ve talked about this before Abby, but it takes time for drowning victims to fully recover. It hasn’t really been that long.”
I didn’t like the word victim. I wasn’t a victim. I was an idiot. I was the one who walked out onto that ice.
“Yeah,” I said.
Dr. Mortimer has told me the story at least a dozen times and I’m always amazed that I can’t remember any of it. Last winter I fell through the ice at a lake and when the rescue squad brought me in to St. Charles, I was clinically dead. No pulse, no breathing. They tried to resuscitate me with no luck. They “called it,” and told Kate she could stay for a little while with me to say good-bye. She was by my bedside, crying, when something happened.
I woke up from death.
Kate was the one who saw my eyes open and she screamed.
Since then, Dr. Mortimer has carried around a heavy guilt. He is sure now that the icy water must have shut down my system, making it appear like I was dead when in fact I was in a deep hibernation, similar to what happens to animals. And he missed it.
Kate doesn’t believe that though. She told me she was there, that she had held my frozen hands and had desperately tried to hear a beating heart as she sat next to me. She is positive that I was dead.
“I’m just saying you’re still getting better. You have no idea what kinds of things you’ll be able to do a year from now. Your healing is a process, that’s all I mean.”
Dr. Mortimer cleared his throat. He always got so serious when he talked about my recovery. He took it very personally, probably because he almost buried me alive.
“I guess we’ll see what happens,” I said. “So is the kid okay, the one attacked by the dog?”
“Thirty stitches across his face. It’s going to leave a horrible scar.”
I was relieved to see Kate walk out.
“Oh, Dr. Mortimer! I didn’t know you were here,” she said warmly, slipping her phone into a pocket. He stood up and they hugged. The room lit up.
Although I came back from death, I didn’t come back the same. The biggest change is that I can’t see colors anymore, that everything in my world is in blacks, whites, and grays. I’m also super sensitive now to the emotions of other people. If they’re happy, they have kind of a glow around them. A light surrounds Dr. Mortimer whenever Kate walks into the room. That’s how I know he’s in love with her.
“So good to see you. How’s everything?” she asked.
“Great, really great,” he said.
She walked toward the door and pulled on her boots.
“Where are you going?” I said, glancing out the window at the snow.
“The police found a body over by Old Mill. Probably a suicide, but I need to check it out anyway.”
I sighed. I wanted her to stay and have dinner because I knew that Matt would be arriving soon. When it came to dinner, Matt was like the postman.
“Couldn’t you just call one of your contacts or something?” I said.
“Well, I could. But I need to make sure,” she said.
“Can I come?” I asked.
“Nope.”
“Probably a good idea to stay out of this weather, in your humble doctor’s opinion,” Dr. Mortimer said, grabbing his coat off the rack. “I’ve got to get going too.”
I walked over to the door.
“Abby seems to be doing well, right?” Kate asked, studying me like I was in a glass case at a museum. I hated when people did that, but I was getting used to it. It happened all the time at school.
“Yeah, she seems good,” he said.
A cold gust of air blew snow inside as Kate opened the door.
“Bye, Abby. I’ll call if I’m too late. Leave the lights on.”
“Bye,” I said.
I gave Dr. Mortimer a quick hug.
“Take care, Abby,” he said, following my sister outside.
I watched from the window as he opened her car door. I could tell he was trying to linger, but Kate was all business. That’s how she was when stories came up and there was even a small chance to advance her career. She wasn’t going to be stuck in Bend, Oregon her whole life. She had CNN and New York on her mind, and was determined to find the story that would catapult her towards huge success.
I locked the door and watched as she drove off, leaving the doctor in the street with snow swirling around him.
CHAPTER 2
Going back to school was actually harder than dying.
I didn’t want to go back. After the accident, in my junior year, I had a tutor who came out to the house every day and I was content at home where I didn’t have to deal with people. I was thinking of doing that again for my senior year or even dropping out.
“Just get it over with. Everybody misses you. Come back. You need to start living again.”
Jesse and I had been best friends since fourth grade when we were in Mrs. Turner’s class and were paired up for a science experiment on buoyancy.
“The tutor says she’ll keep coming to the house,” I said.
“You can’t be hiding in here the rest of your life. It’s time to face your fears.”
That was true. I knew I would never really want to go back to school and it had nothing to do with the academics. I didn’t want to show all those kids the new me. I was pretty sure how it would all play out, too. Everybody would be real nice for the first couple weeks, but then the gossip would start. Girl gossip is always the worst. Riley and Olivia had already stopped calling and dropping by and I was sure the rest of my so-called friends would do the same. Me showing up to school as the walking ghost of what I used to be wasn’t going to help my social life any.
But Jesse was right. I couldn’t hide in the house forever.
The first few days of my senior year were great. There were painted posters in the hallways that said “Welcome Back Abby Craig!” and the kids and teachers were excited to see me. But it wasn’t long until I was pushed to the outside of my circle of friends. It was subtle, but I could tell. They said hello and everything, but then hurriedly walked by. Being dead had changed me. I thought I could hide it somehow, but I couldn’t.
Most didn’t ask too many questions and I was grateful for that.
“Abigail,” Mrs. Baylock said as we sat at a table in the library. She was one of the volunteers who helped me. Her son Robbie played the trumpet in the marching band. I was working on an algebra problem.
“Did you see anything?” she whispered.
“See anything?” I said, wondering if she was talking about the dance assembly that morning. I looked up and saw how nervous she was. Her eyes were wild behind her jeweled-frame glasses.
“Like, you know, Jesus? Or a light? Or a tunnel of some sort? Did you see anything like that?”
I sighed, put down my pencil, and nodded. I wasn’t going to tell her that there was only darkness, a terrible black so deep that it sucked my breath away just thinking about it.
She seemed disappointed in my silence and wasn’t going to let it go.
“Why do you suppose you were brought back?” she asked.
“What?”
Suddenly she lunged across the table and squeezed my arm. I looked at her in horror, at the terrible desperation consuming her face.
“Please, let go,” I begged. My mouth was bone dry. “Please.”
“My husband needs help. Your help. I know he’s going to Hell. I keep telling him, warning him. Can you talk to him? Please, talk to him, Abigail!”
My head was spinning as I stood. I couldn’t breathe, everything was fading except those crazy eyes that darted back and forth.
“I can’t help you,” I said, finally breaking free from her grasp and backing away.
“The Devil must have done this, Abigail!” she hissed. “You’re the Devil’s work! I’ll pray for you, evil child!”
I started running. Out of the library, down the corridor, and into a bathroom stall. I locked the door behind me. My heart thundered in my chest and my face was prickly hot. I tried to calm down, tried to catch my breath.
I don’t know how long I was in there before the school counselor found me and took me back to her office. Bells had rung and the school was empty. I didn’t mention what had happened, and she just assumed that I was having trouble adjusting to school.
“I’m going to give your sister the name of a friend of mine. It would be good for you to talk to him,” she said. “I mean, on a regular basis that is.”
And that’s how I started seeing Dr. Krowe.
CHAPTER 3
“Hey, Craigers,” Jesse said as he walked up to me. I was standing by my locker, fiddling with books, buying some time. Amanda and her friends were at the doors and I was hoping they would head out so I wouldn’t have to pass them. I was relieved to see him walk up.
“Hey, Jesse,” I said.
He adjusted his hat. For the eight years I had known him, I only had seen Jesse without a baseball cap a few times. One of those times was when he stood over my hospital bed and I hadn’t even recognized him.
“Let’s get a burger,” he said.
“Can’t. Have a shrink appointment. Want me to drop you somewhere?” At least I was still able to drive, which came in handy since Jesse smashed up his car last year. He was a speed freak and apparently his dad knew that too because the car was still not fixed.
He tipped his hat up and sighed.
“C’mon. You have half an hour. I’ll eat fast.”
I shrugged. I was usually a little late anyway and I was hungry.
“All right, but let’s get going.”
I wrapped my arm in his as we walked down the hall, past the girls and whispers. Jesse was the only school friend I had left these days, but that was okay.
Snow covered the streets and the cars in the parking lot. Everything was bright white. The weatherman had been right for once.
“Good ‘boarding weather,” he said as he got into my Jeep. “Maybe we should ditch school tomorrow and head up to the mountain.”
“It’s not even open yet,” I said. It was too early to even think about snowboarding up at Mount Bachelor. “There are still some leaves on the trees!”
“Oh, we could find our own hills. Think out of the box,” he said.
“All right, maybe,” I said.
He fiddled with the radio and found Metallica and blasted it. Jesse loved heavy metal. He got that from his dad, who owned a garage at the edge of town and listened to that music as he fixed Harleys. Jesse worked with him in the summers and after school sometimes.
I put the Jeep into four-wheel drive and made it out of the parking lot.
“How you feeling today, anyway?” he asked as I slowly drove on the slick streets. Driving in the snow always made me a little nervous.
“Good, why?” I asked.
“I don’t know. You look kinda pale and sad,” he said, doing a Lars Ulrich drum solo with his hands on his long, skinny legs.
“I’m fine,” I said. We pulled into the lot.
A warm fire was raging in the center of Pilot Butte Burgers. There were already kids from school at some of the tables. I waved as I walked by and grabbed a booth close to the flames while Jesse ordered.
“You want to sit with us?” Tina asked.
“No, thanks. We’re good over here.”
She shrugged. Jesse soon followed and sat down with his food.
“You sure you don’t want anything?” he said.
“Just your fries,” I said. “As usual.”
We talked about basketball for a while, about how the team was looking this year. Jesse was a starting forward.
I reached for a fry as he dug into his burger. Amanda and her friends had come in, scanning the tables as they waited in line. Our eyes met briefly and she ignored me.
“Don’t worry so much about them,” Jesse said. He sponged a gob of ketchup off his face with a napkin.
“I know,” I said, trying to push the girls out of my mind. I took a sip from his Coke.
I was wishing he could eat a little bit faster, even though he was the fastest eater I had ever known. I was ready to leave.
“C’mon, tell me about Kate and the good doctor. Are they together yet?”
“I wish,” I said. “Matt has been over five times this week. He leaves his paintings for us. It’s a form of payment, I guess.”
Jesse laughed.
I didn’t want to talk about Matt, but I couldn’t stand hearing the laughter that was coming from Amanda and her group.
“He’s nice enough and all, but has a strange aversion to taking care of himself. Like bathing or paying rent. I’m pretty sure he’s just living with different friends all week.”
“He’s still young, he has time to pull it together,” Jesse said.
“Yeah, I guess. But Kate’s kind of young to be supporting a boyfriend. She already has me. And besides, she could have anybody. Why is she settling for him?”
“You mean, why isn’t she going for your doctor?” he said.
“Exactly,” I said.
“Who knows the ways of love, Miss Abigail?” he said. “For example, my poor little heart pitter patters loudly for Chloe over there in the corner. It’s not logical. She’s not the prettiest or the smartest girl, but there you go.”
Chloe was both pretty and smart. Jesse was just full of it sometimes. Supposedly, he’s had a huge crush on her since middle school, but not once have I seen him talk to her. And Jesse, aka Mister Popular, was cocky. If he were really interested, he’d be over there, full charm on. It was more that he liked to talk about her.
“How do you eat all that anyway?” I asked grabbing another fry.
He was nearly finished, stuffing the last bit in his mouth as he threw his napkin in the middle of the empty plate.
Jesse had taken to getting the Monster Burger since he started his senior year, which was usually ordered by football linebackers, tourists, or groups who would split it. It had three times the meat as a normal hamburger. His appetite was ferocious. I had no idea how he finished them, but he did every single time.
“This is like my dinner too,” he said.
“Oh, right,” I said.
He smiled.
“Come on,” he said, standing up. “I promised to get you to your shrink on time. Let’s go.”
Jesse led us past all the groups of kids and Amanda pretended not to see me. Big flakes were falling now and the city had disappeared in a low, white fog as we drove.
“So what about tomorrow?” Jesse said as we pulled up to his house.
“Sounds fun, but I’m gonna pass. I would like to at least get C’s in my classes this semester.”
I wasn’t even sure why. It didn’t seem to matter how much I read, I blew most of my tests.
“All right, but if you don’t see me around, you know where I am.”
“Have fun,” I said.
“Thanks for the burger,” he said as he slammed the door and walked away.
I had made a mistake with Jesse. The summer before the accident we were sitting on the soccer field at midnight, studying the constellations and planets, and Jesse had leaned over and kissed me and told me that he loved me. A lot of things had been erased from my memory after my accident, but that one terrible scene remains, strong as jasmine. I wished I could erase it, wished it had never happened. At the time I had fallen for Conner and told Jesse I didn’t have those kinds of feelings for him.
The second I told him, his face fell thirty stories in the soft moonlight and I immediately wanted to take back my words. There were a lot of awful things I could do in the world, but the absolute worst thing was hurting Jesse.
The rejection lingered between us for weeks, and I knew that it would always be part of us now. It hurt to think about it. Conner turned out to be a fool, and now my feelings for Jesse were changing. I couldn’t stop thinking about him and that kiss. Couldn’t get his smile out of my mind sometimes.
But it was too late.
I drove over to Dr. Krowe’s office and parked. A fierce wind blew into me as I slowly made my way into the building.
I sighed and paused before pushing open the door. I hated Thursdays.
CHAPTER 4
I was a few minutes late.
Dr. Krowe liked to remind me that when I showed up late, I was acting in a passive aggressive pattern and it was unhealthy.
“Hello Abby,” Dr. Krowe said, giving me a quick nod before closing the door behind me.
“Hi, sorry I’m late,” I said. “I go slow in the snow.”
He smiled and I followed him over to the two large leather chairs that faced each other. I sat down, letting my backpack slip off my shoulder to the floor.
“Crazy weather out there,” he said. We stared a moment through the large window. His office overlooked a forested walking trail and the scene was like a Robert Frost poem, full of snowy woods and promises.
“Kind of early for all this, don’t you think?” he said.
“Yeah and it’s supposed to snow through the weekend,” I said. “That’s Kate’s official report, anyway.”
He pulled out his pad and pen and adjusted his glasses. When he crossed his legs, I noticed he was wearing argyle socks.
“So, how has your week been going?” he asked, his penetrating gray eyes probing mine.
“Good,” I said. I usually tried to focus on the kids and teachers at school during these sessions. That way there was something to talk about.
“Tutors helping?”
“I guess. I don’t know,” I said.
“What about your friends?” he said.
He flipped his notepad back a few pages, the sharp sound cutting through the air. He tapped his pen on top of some words he had found.
“Fine,” I said. “All one of them.”
“Jesse?” he asked.
I smiled and nodded.
“I see,” he said, as the pen moved across the paper. “So your old friendships with the girls on the team and in your classes haven’t gotten any better?”
“Still the same,” I said.
“How are you feeling about soccer? That was a huge part of your life. You had a few colleges interested before your accident. That must be hard to deal with.”
I shrugged, trying to hold steady. It hurt. It hurt a lot sometimes, but I didn’t want to talk about it.
“It must be stressful not being able to play like you used to. You’ve talked a little bit about how your teammates treat you.”
“They don’t treat me bad or anything,” I said.
“But it’s different.”
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s more like I’m just not there.”
I was talking too much.
“That must be frustrating.”
I paused.
“Yeah,” I said, finally. I looked at my watch. I always was sure to wear one because Dr. Krowe never had a clock that I could see during these visits. There was still way too much time left.
“Have you thought about quitting the team?”
My heart sank.
“I’m not ready to do that.”
He took off his glasses and cleaned them with the edge of his sweater.
“Abby, I’m not saying you won’t ever play again. But maybe you could give yourself a break this year. Every time you show up there, on the field, at a game on the bench, at practice, it reminds you of who you used to be. And every one of your teammates, looking at you in that way, reminds you of that too. Taking a break isn’t giving up. It’s just taking a break. I think you could use that.”
I sighed. He was probably right but I wasn’t ready to quit soccer. Besides, it was a short season.
“How’s that other friend of yours?”
“Amanda? A super bitch, as always,” I said. I was surprised how forthcoming I was about her. But it was true.
He wrote that down.
“And Jesse?” he said.
“He’s awesome,” I said.
We talked a little more about Jesse playing basketball. I felt better talking about him, and although I knew I was going on way too much, I didn’t like discussing soccer and had to kill some time. Of course I didn’t mention my changing feelings for him. I would have to think that through on my own.
I glanced at my watch and reached for my backpack.
“You still have some time. You were late and I don’t have another appointment.”
“Thanks, but I better be getting home,” I said, staring out the window.
“Yeah, you’re right. Be careful out there, Abby,” he said, folding over the notepad. “And remember you can call at any time. I’m always here for you.”
“Thanks, Dr. Krowe,” I said over my shoulder.
The cold air felt good on my face as I stepped outside into the storm.
CHAPTER 5
When I got home I was surprised to find Kate sitting on the sofa, sipping tea and watching the news.
“Hey, sis,” she said as I closed the door.
“Hey,” I said, taking off my coat and boots. “What are you doing home so soon?”
“Oh, I filed my story early and thought I would have a quiet night here. I already ordered the pizza from Mondo.” This didn’t sound like Kate at all. “How was school?”
“Fine,” I said.
“And Doc Krowe?” she asked, looking over. “Do you think that he’s helping any?”
I nodded and sat in the recliner. It felt good to be home, and I was glad Kate was here and that the heater was blasting.
“Hey, whatever happened with that dead body from the other night?” I asked. I had meant to follow up on it but she hadn’t been home much.
“Oh, that. Officially, it’s been ruled a suicide. He was a homeless guy and they found him in the river not far from the shops. His friends said he couldn’t swim and had been depressed lately, so the police think he killed himself. But I’m not so sure,” she said.
“How come you’re not so sure?” I asked.
“You sound like my editor,” she said, smiling. “I don’t know. A hunch I guess.”
If Kate had a hunch she was probably right.
“Nobody really cares about him, though. Lieutenant Sullivan actually told me not to shed a tear, that the old guy would have probably died soon anyway given his chosen lifestyle and the weather conditions.”
“Wow,” I said.
“There’s a lot of animosity in this town towards the homeless lately,” she said. “People are tired of seeing them in front of stores with cardboard signs.”
The doorbell rang and Kate got up and answered it. I changed quickly into some sweats and when I came back, I saw the steaming boxes of pizza and Matt hovering around the table. No doubt he had followed the delivery guy over in hot pursuit.
“Hey, Abby!” Matt said, serving up slices. “What can I get you? Pepperoni or pepperoni?”
We sat jamming thick, gooey slices into our mouths, listening to the news, and making fun of the foolish anchors. Sometimes watching the local news station reminded me of how small this town really was. They tripped over their words, smiled as they reported on deaths and accidents, and occasionally broke into uncontrollable giggles that forced them to go to commercial. I didn’t really care, but every time I watched the broadcast I could see why Kate wanted out.
CHAPTER 6
I’ve had the same dream, over and over, since the accident.
I’m under water. And in the beginning, I’m not panicking. I’m calm, floating down, down, down to the bottom, watching zillions of tiny water bubbles fly up around me.
And then it sets in. Terror rips through me, strong and sudden. I hold my breath and try to swim upwards, but something has a hold of me, keeps pulling me down into the darkness below. It won’t let me go. It has a firm grip around my ankles and I can’t break loose, can’t get free. The prayers I learned as a child flood my mind. It won’t release me and keeps pulling me under, down into nothingness.
But tonight in the dream, there is someone else with me. We face each other in the water, both of us sinking. He doesn’t see me. He is old, terrified and confused, scraggly and beaten. He has a large tattoo that wraps around his neck.
The dream always ends the same. I have to breathe. I have to take a breath. One deep, watery breath before everything goes black.
CHAPTER 7
I woke up drenched in sweat, my heart pounding hard in my chest. The dream was short, but horrible. My head ached, a steady rhythm bouncing off the sides of my skull.
“Kate,” I said, stumbling into her room. It was late. She turned on the lamp and sat up.
“What is it?”
“My head.”
She pulled me on the bed and the room started spinning.
“Come on, I’m taking you in. You don’t look good.”
We made our way to her Subaru. Lights seared through my eyes as we drove in the night. My stomach ached too, and I tried hard to not throw up in the car.
Everything faded for a while, but soon, it was like old times: waking up in the whiteness of the emergency room, Kate by my side, and Dr. Mortimer hovering above. My head wasn’t throbbing anymore and my stomach had settled.
“How long have we been here?” I asked.
She was smiling, giddy almost, and I saw her eyes were shiny. She had been crying.
“About two hours,” she said.
“How are you feeling?” Dr. Mortimer asked.
“Much better. My head doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“You had a pretty bad migraine. I gave you a shot and it should hold for a while,” he said. “And I gave Kate some pills in case you have another one. The minute you feel like it’s coming, you need to take a pill and it will subside.”
“Thanks.”
“We took some blood and everything else looks fine,” he said, looking at my eyes with his penlight. “I don’t think it’s anything more serious than a migraine.”
“So I can go home?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “Get some sleep, Abby. I’ll be consulting with your regular doctor. She may want you to do some more tests. We’ll talk about that later.”
I stood up. I was a little weak, but was able to walk.
“Thanks, Dr. Mortimer,” I said.
“Keep an eye on her,” he said to Kate.
“Thanks, Doc,” she said as she grabbed my arm. “Hey, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?”
“Oh, my brother is in town,” he said. “I’m trying to talk him out of cooking.”
“Why don’t you guys come over for dinner? Or at the very least for a drink. We’d love to have you. A few other people from the newsroom are coming and it should be pretty fun.”
“Well, thank you,” he said. I could tell he was happy. “Sure. Yes. We’d love to. Thank you.”
We were quiet as we walked. Kate guided me through the double doors out into the parking lot, the frozen air hitting us with a thud as we navigated over ice to the car.
“Gotta stop doing that to me,” she said, forcing a smile. “Abby, I can’t take much more of this stupid hospital.”
I smiled but I saw how serious she was and knew I had shaken her up. Kate was the one who had it the hardest. First mom died five years ago, then my accident last year. She was too young for this kind of stuff and she wore it on her face sometimes. This was one of those times.
“Sorry,” I said, and really meant it.
Tears spilled from her eyes, streaming down her cheeks. She hugged me hard.
“Seriously. I need you. Okay?”
We pulled away from the lot into the quiet, dark streets.
“I’m glad you invited him,” I said. “Although it was kind of random.”
“Yeah,” she said as she turned down the music. “He always seems, I don’t know, kind of lonely or something. But I hope he didn’t get the wrong impression. I just thought he needed a nice home-cooked meal. Can’t get any more home cooked than Thanksgiving.”
That was true. And Kate and I did it right every year. Thanksgiving had been one of Mom’s favorite holidays and when she was alive, we always had the best ones. It was important to Kate to continue the tradition so we cooked really good food and invited a lot of friends over.
Diana Krall hummed from the speakers.
“He likes you, you know?” I said.
“Yeah, I know,” she said.
“Must be nice, gorgeous doctors throwing themselves at your feet. And you just step over them,” I said.
“Come on, Abby. It’s not like that at all. He knows I’m involved.”
“Matt? Come on.”
She sighed.
“Matt’s an artist, Abby,” she said, sounding like she needed to convince herself. “That’s one of the reasons why I’m so crazy about him. You’ve seen his paintings. They’re amazing.”
I had seen his paintings. Amazing wouldn’t have been the word I would have chosen to describe them. Abstract. Messy. Confusing. But definitely not amazing.
“Okay, okay. I know. Maybe I’m just going through a phase. But relax, will ya? It’s not like we’re getting married or anything.”
“Does he ever wash his hair anymore, by the way?”
Lately Matt was looking more and more grungy. He had gotten dreadlocks put in and had grown a scraggly goatee, which he sometimes braided. And he was always wearing the same clothes. Baggy jeans, a striped shirt, and a wool hat, looking like the Where’s Waldo guy. A few of Kate’s friends had reported seeing him roaming the streets downtown looking for inspiration, but I was pretty sure he was picking up spare change from tourists.
“Let’s not have this conversation right now,” she said, yawning.
We stopped at a traffic light. We were the only car around for miles.
“Still feeling better?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said. Then I remembered the dream.
“I was having that same nightmare right before the headache,” I said, shivering suddenly even though it was hot in the car.
“The one where you’re drowning?” she asked.
“Yeah, it was bad. Really bad,” I said.
She drove up our street and I was thankful we were almost home. The sun would be coming up soon, but I couldn’t wait to get to sleep. Maybe I could talk Kate into letting me sleep in her giant, feathery bed.
Then I remembered.
“Strange, though, in this one, there was this old guy in the water with me.”
“What?”
“An old guy with a huge tattoo on his neck. That’s when the pain hit.”
Kate looked over at me suddenly.
“A tattoo on his neck? What kind of tattoo?”
I thought a moment. It was so strange. The tattoo was illuminated in the water, like a stream of light had made its way from the surface down into the darkness.
“It was a mermaid tattoo. It wrapped around his neck.”
Kate turned several shades lighter as we pulled into the driveway. She turned off the car and just sat there.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I’m trying to figure out how the guy I did a story on, you know, the one who committed suicide in the river the other night, how he ended up in your dream.”
CHAPTER 8
“I’m going to make some tea, Abby. We need to talk about this a little more. Are you feeling up for it, or do you want to get to bed?”
I did want to get to bed, but Kate seemed to be so excited about the dream that I told her to go ahead. I owed her that much even if I could barely keep my eyes open.
“The man, the suicide I investigated down by the river? That was one of the things I noticed. He had this giant mermaid tattoo on his neck. I mean it was huge, it covered his entire neck. It was freakish.”
I nodded. The dream was still with me and I could still feel him. I couldn’t shake his fear.
“Yeah, that tattoo was really big,” I said. “There was something else, too. Just a feeling, but it was strong. He was terrified. Really, really scared.”
“You’ve never had other people in that dream before?” she asked, pouring the steaming water from the kettle into our cups.
“No,” I said. “I’m always alone. Like when I was in the lake.”
Kate had never asked too much about when I died. Only once actually, and it was just about whether I had seen Mom. I wished I had. But on hindsight, I wouldn’t have wanted to see her in the place where I was, a place no light or goodness or angels ever touched. So when I told Kate that no, I hadn’t seen Mom, that was the extent of her questions. I knew all that kind of stuff wasn’t Kate anyway, believing in the afterlife and all. She was much too logical for any of that. Besides, as she often told me, the past was the past and the only place to move was forward.
“Kate, it’s just a feeling. But I think the guy in my dream was killed. I’m sure it wasn’t a suicide at the very least.”
She looked at me like I was crazy. But I could also tell that she was thinking the same thing.
“It never felt right to me,” she said. “But this is all too weird.”
We talked a little longer before she saw that I was fading. She let me sleep in her bed while she worked at her desk at her laptop. I don’t think she ever did get any sleep, because she was in the exact same position when I woke up and light was streaming in through the window.
“No school today, Abby. Doc’s orders.”
I smiled and rubbed my eyes.
“How’s the head?” she asked while she kept typing.
“Good,” I said. She walked over to me and put her hand on my cheek.
“Good. Okay, here’s your cell phone and those pills. I’m going into work for a few hours but will be back early. Call if you need anything, anything at all. Remember, if your head starts hurting, take one right away.”
As I sat up I saw she was all dressed. Makeup, shoes, jewelry, everything. I didn’t mind staying alone though.
“Bye,” I said.
“See you later,” she said, and soon I heard the door slam.
I made a grilled cheese sandwich and started flipping around for something to watch. My head felt back to normal. It was nice to take a day off. I settled on an old Bogart movie. I preferred black and white movies these days because then I didn’t feel like I was missing anything.
At about four, the doorbell rang. I nearly opened it, but suddenly my arms filled with goose bumps as I thought about my dream and that dead old guy. I looked through the peephole.
“Jesse!” I shouted. I flung the door open and threw my arms around him. I knew I was overreacting, but it really was great to see him. He just laughed.
“Take it easy, Craigers! It’s only been like a few hours since I saw you last,” he said. He was dressed in snow clothes so I knew where he’d been. I got him a soda as he slid out of his ski jacket and boots.
“Kate left a weird message, said you were home and wanted me to check up on you. Feeling okay?”
We sat at the table.
“I’m good,” I said. I told him about the migraine, going to the ER, and seeing Dr. Mortimer.
“How was the snow?” I asked.
“Oh, man! Perfect!” he said.
Jesse seemed to be a little checked out of school this year so far, and I was hoping it didn’t have anything to do with me. He never would have ditched to snowboard last year. I knew he would be able to keep up on his grades, but I also knew that the basketball coach had a strict policy about missing practices, even off-season.
“I know what you’re thinking, Craigers, and you don’t have to worry,” he said. “Basketball practice is just starting. So relax. Anyway, the snow was incredible! I think you should really think about getting back out there.”
“Stop nagging, dude,” I said. “I’m not quite ready to fly down mountains yet.”
“Maybe that’s exactly what you need. It will cheer you up,” he said, tugging at his hat.
I paused. Lately he had been saying things like that a lot and it made me wonder if I was just walking around like a giant depressed freak.
“You think I need cheering up?” I asked.
“Just a little,” he said.
I stared at him and could feel those crazy emotions swirling around in my gut. His eyes sparkled. I tried to remember what color they were, but couldn’t. I wanted to say something, but I wasn’t sure how it would turn out.
“Jesse,” I said. “What color are your eyes?”
“What color do they look to you?”
“Light gray,” I said, staring at them. “With little black flecks. But I can’t remember the color.”
“They’re whatever you see now, Craigers,” he said.
I knew I should stop there. But I didn’t.
“I still remember that night. You know, the one when we were looking at the stars?”
This wasn’t how I wanted to start it. Bad beginning, especially when I saw his face turn pale and his eyes fall to the floor.
“Yeah, I won’t ever forget that,” he said.
My stomach was in knots. Big knots. I wanted to hurl. But I needed to push ahead, at the very least let him know that I was wrong about everything that night.
“I can’t seem to erase that stupid scene from my mind and I wanted you to know how sorry I am about what I said.”
He sat back in the chair and was quiet.
“You shouldn’t be sorry for your feelings,” he finally said.
“But, Jesse, look, I…”
But he wouldn’t let me finish. He jumped up.
“I gotta get going,” he said. “It’s not a bad thing, what happened. Really. It turned out for the best. You were right.”
“But Jesse, my feelings have changed, I love you…”
I blurted it out as I walked up to him. I sounded stupid and desperate, I knew that. But I had to say it no matter how dumb it made me feel.
He shook his head and finished putting on his boots. I cautiously walked closer. I knew he still loved me, I could feel it. He gave me a quick hug and then pulled back.
“I’m sorry Abby, but it’s too late,” he said. Then he left. My stomach dropped as I watched him walk down the street.
By the time Kate returned from work, I had stopped crying. But it had taken an hour to get my emotions back in check. I hadn’t expected that. I thought Jesse would forgive me.
“They don’t usually release these,” she said, placing a photograph on the table in front of me. “In fact, Cooper wasn’t even supposed to take it. But anyway, here it is.”
I stared at the 8x10. It was of the dead man with the mermaid tattoo. The man I saw in my dream.
“Same guy, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s him,” I said. It was hard to believe.
“That’s just so weird,” Kate said. “Seriously, Abby. How could that be?”
I shrugged. Kate sat down across from me.
“The medical examiner found water in his lungs,” she said. “So he did drown. Whether it’s a suicide or an accident, they don’t know. The basic toxicology report came back, showed alcohol in his system. But because it showed some other unidentifiable drug too, they’ve sent for a more thorough tox report to a lab in California.”
“Well, that’s good, I guess.”
“Yeah. At least they’re keeping the case open until they get that one back. But those take weeks. They aren’t thinking it’s murder, though,” she said. “He didn’t know how to swim. Probably just tripped and fell into the river.”
I had a strong feeling that wasn’t what happened.
“I think there’s more to it,” I said after a strong chill shot through my body.
CHAPTER 9
A huge Thanksgiving storm dumped over a foot of snow on Bend and once again everything was white. But it was beautiful, especially when you could stay home and watch it fall from the windows. The house was warm and we blasted The Cure, Josh Ritter, and Miles Davis as we cooked. Ten people were coming, making it our largest Thanksgiving ever.
Jesse never was able to make it because he went down to San Francisco to visit his mom during the holiday. I had never met his mom and he didn’t talk much about her. All I knew was that she worked in a gallery and had left when he was little.
Since confessing my love to Jesse, our friendship was hanging in a strange kind of limbo. I didn’t see him much and it made for super lonely days at school. I would catch him going to practice or heading to class, and although he would wave, I could tell it was strained. He didn’t sit with me at lunch either, and I wondered if our relationship would ever be the same, if we could even be friends anymore. The entire thing sat like a pit in my gut, not feeling right and not going away.
“Abby, focus!” Kate yelled as I drifted off. I was stirring cranberries over a burner.
“Got it,” I said. I hadn’t told Kate about the incident with Jesse and I was planning on keeping it that way. I didn’t know how to get back to our friendship. I would settle for that now. I just kept blowing things.
Kate looked great. She was wearing a tight black dress that fit perfectly and stilettos that clicked with authority as she walked across the wood floors.
Matt showed up early and I was glad that Kate put him to work. I was really glad that she covered him in a clean, sterile apron and made him wash his hands for five minutes like he was about to perform surgery.
“Hey, Abby, you’re looking nice today,” he said when we were alone in the kitchen. I was wearing my Lucky jeans with a collared shirt and a pinstriped vest but I guessed I looked a little more dressed up than my usual sweats. Matt was chopping garlic and was in charge of the stuffing. Truth be told, I actually liked Matt, but more as an eccentric older brother. Not as my sister’s boyfriend.
“Thanks,” I said. “How’s the new painting going?”
“Good. I’ll bring it over when it’s done.”
“Cool,” I said. I was still unclear where Matt even lived, let alone painted.
Dinner was nearly ready and was going to be good: roasted turkey with rosemary and thyme, creamy sweet potatoes with maple syrup, homemade cranberry sauce and stuffing made with cornbread, cashews, and dried apricots. The guests were all bringing different desserts.
The doorbell rang. It was Dr. Mortimer and his brother.
“Hi, please come in,” Kate said, giving Dr. Mortimer a long hug. She was glad to see him, I could tell. I said hello and glanced over at his brother, who was taller and thinner but had the same eyes. He also dressed really well, looking like he had just stepped out of a GQ photo shoot, his silk suit freshly pressed. He had longer dark hair that hung over his collar. He nodded to everyone, smiling shyly.
“Kate, Abby, Matt, this is my brother, Nathaniel,” Dr. Mortimer said, a hint of pride in his voice. “Another Dr. Mortimer. Bet you didn’t think there were two of us! He lives in Boston and is in town on business.”
We all said hello and he seemed to relax a little.
“I’m not just visiting for business reasons,” Nathaniel said. “Of course I wanted to see my brother for Thanksgiving.”
Dr. Mortimer gave him a sarcastic look.
Kate led them to the living room as Dr. Mortimer handed her a pink bakery box and a bottle of wine, which she took into the kitchen with Matt.
“Abby here is my star patient,” Dr. Mortimer said.
“Of course I remember Abby,” Nathaniel said. “You haven’t stopped talking about her since that night. Abby, I’ve heard all about you. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
I’m sure I turned six shades of red on the spot, but managed to mumble “thank you,” before Kate returned. She handed me a wineglass filled with Sprite and Dr. Mortimer opened the wine and poured.
“Happy Thanksgiving everyone,” Kate said, lifting her glass.
Soon the bell rang again and a bunch of Kate’s reporter friends filled the house. Kate introduced them to the doctor brothers. I knew all of the news staff. Before I could drive, I’d walk over to The Bugler after practice and wait for Kate to finish up. They were all friendly. And I was really glad to see Tony, who was Kate’s editor. He was a large man with an easy laugh. I thought of him as kind of an uncle, someone who we could count on if we needed anything.
Erin, who was Kate’s best friend, came up and gave me a hug with her big hair nearly suffocating me and slipped a small box in my hand. Inside was a pair of earrings. As I thanked her, I noticed she had tears in her eyes. She pulled me close.
“I’m so happy you’re still with us, Abby,” she whispered in my ear. “You’ve made this a real special Thanksgiving.”
It felt good to have the house full of delicious smells, a toasty fire, and friendly, fun guests. We put the football game on and muted it and jazzy music weaved around the room. Everybody loved the food and the wine was flowing. The only regret I had was that I wished Jesse could have been with us.