Nightingale's Nightmare (Cassadaga Book 4 (21 page)

BOOK: Nightingale's Nightmare (Cassadaga Book 4
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The operator assured Margarite that deputies would arrive momentarily and to stay calm. But Margarite decided she wasn’t going to wait for their arrival. Instead, she made a beeline for the woods. Something was wrong and although she might be in her sixties, she’d be damned if she was going to stand by and let something bad happen if she could prevent it.

Margarite knew the easiest path to take to the barn. As she approached, she smelled the smoke and then saw it rising over the barn.

“Shit! Fire!”

She hustled herself along, coming up beside the left of the building. That’s when she saw Bill crumpled on the ground like a fancy silk scarf. His head was bloody and she feared he was dead. Before she could reach out to him, Margarite heard Nightingale making strangled noises. Leaving Bill, she ran around the corner of the building to the barn’s entrance.

Smoke was coming out the door at a pretty fair volume. Placing the crook of her arm across her nose and mouth, Margarite entered the barn. Immediately, she saw the situation.

“Lord, girl! Oh, my god!”

Margarite tried to lift Nightingale from the ground, but quickly saw that she was in too much pain. Grabbing the edge of the electrical tape, she ripped it from Nightingale’s face.

“Margarite!” she cried out in anguish. “Help me!”

“How do I get you outa here? I can’t carry you!”

“That red tool thing, in the corner.
It has scissors to cut with. Quick, Margarite!”

Margarite ran to the tool chest
, yanking drawers open in desperation to find scissors. Locating a pair of hedge clippers instead, she ran back to Nightingale and began working to cut away the garden wire. It wasn’t too difficult of a task with the clippers.

Helping Nightingale to stand, Margarite guided her to the outside. Once clear of the building, she applied the hedge clippers to the garden wire around Nightingale
’s wrists. Now free, Nightingale brought her arms around to the front, looking down in disbelief at her bloody wrists.

“Margarite, you saved my life! Let’s get out of here!”

“Bill’s around the corner.”

“What do you mean?”
Nightingale painfully began to shuffle toward the corner of the building.

“Looks like he got hurt. The police are on the way.”

Suddenly and quite unexpectedly, Peter appeared coming off of a path in the woods.

“I saw smoke. What happened?” His mouth gaped at he stared at the two women.

“Long story,” Margarite said. “Bill’s around the corner, hurt.”

Nightingale rounded the corner
first, not even thinking about her sore ankles after she saw Bill lying in a heap. She  shrieked, then dropped to her knees. Immediately Nightingale tried to find a pulse at Bill’s neck. To her relief, she found one.

“He’s alive, Margarite! Call 911 again and tell them we need an ambulance.”

Margarite pulled out her phone and punched in the numbers.

“We need to move him away from the building,” Peter said. “Can you help me?”

Peter and Nightingale attempted to drag Bill away from the building and were joined by Margarite when she finished the call.

T
hey knew the first of several police vehicles was arriving because they could hear the sirens screaming in the distance back at Ralph’s house.

“Ralph’s body is still inside the barn.”
Nightingale looked up at Margarite from her position on the ground.

“I’m not going in there again, sister. One rescue is all I got in me today.”

“I’ll go,” Peter said, turning to run into the building.

It only took a
few seconds before they saw Peter  roughly dragging Ralph out by the feet, the old guy’s head bouncing around. Peter dropped Ralph’s body safely away from the building.

“He was going to kill me.”
Nightingale’s face was awash with disbelief.

“I gathered that when I saw the skulls and candles on the ground. And to think I had a fondness for that old geezer.”
Margarite shook her head.

“I hope Bill will be all right. He looks terrible, Margarite.” Nightingale was holding one of Bill’s hands
, looking down at his bloody head. “If he dies…”

“Don’t talk that way. The ambulance will arrive shortly. Here,” Margarite said, taking Nightingale’s hands and placing them on Bill’s chest. “Let’s give him healing until help arrives.”

The two women administered healing energy to Bill up until the time the deputies arrived. One attempted to give first aid until the medical techs arrived in an ambulance.

“There’s a body
over there.” Margarite told a deputy, pointing in the appropriate direction.

It wasn’t long after that the roof caved in and a big blast of fire and smoke shot up into the air.

“The fire department is on the way. We don’t want these woods to catch fire,” another deputy said. “You look like you need medical attention.”

Nightingale glanced down at her wrists, suddenly realizing she was wearing her night clothes. “Yes,
I do. Ralph kidnapped me last night. That’s why I look like this.”

“Don’t worry. You’re alive, so you’
ll be fine.” He smiled at her, then looked down at Bill. “I’m concerned about him, though.”

“Me, too.”

Two men hauling a stretcher came from between the trees. They made short work of gathering Bill onto the stretcher and transported him to the waiting ambulance at the edge of the woods. One of the deputies bodily carried Nightingale to another ambulance.

Then the scream of
the ambulances sounded as they rolled up Stevens Street, causing everyone in the community who heard to wonder what had happened now.

Thirty-two

 

When Bill opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Nightingale sitting near his bedside. She held his hand within her own. He tried to move, then decided that was not a good idea for the moment
after he felt some pain in his back and head.

“Bill!”

“Uh, my head,” Bill mumbled, reaching up slowly to touch his head and discovering it was covered with something. He blinked a few times as he tried to focus on Nightingale’s face.

“Lie still. Don’t move around until the doctor says you can.”

“What happened? Oh, you…” suddenly he remembered that Nightingale had been missing. “You’re okay?”

“Other than some bandages, yes, I’m fine.” Nightingale held up her two hands so Bill could see her bandaged wrists. “My ankles are the same.”

“I’m so glad you’re all right. I was so worried.” He made an attempt at a slight smile, but it came out a bit lopsided. “What’s wrong with my head? Why the bandages?”

“Ralph clubbed you with a shovel, I think a couple times.”


Ralph?
A ninety-one year old geezer hit me over the head? That doesn’t say much for my prowess.”

“He was remarkably vital for ninety-
one. He must have come up behind you and let you have it,” Nightingale gently suggested.

“I don’t remember much.
So Ralph was the one?”

“Yes, the old guy hustled me away in a wheelbarrow. Well, with the aid of some chloroform.”

“But why?”

“He thought I was going to figure out he killed Joe Schmidt, so he…”

“Joe Schmidt? You mean Ralph killed Joe?”

“Apparently so. That’s what he told me
, anyway. Now don’t get upset. Lie still.”

Bill lay silently in his hospital bed, digesting all the news. He coughed, then clutched at his chest with one hand.

“Yeah, I imagine that hurts, too. You have some broken ribs, as well. Old Ralph must have beaten you with the shovel, too. But you don’t have any internal injuries. That’s the good news.”

Bill rolled his eyes over to Nightingale. He wasn’t so sure anything about his condition was good news. His head hurt, his chest ached and he felt generally like a Mack truck had run over him and then
gone back into reverse for a repeat.

“My head. What’s wrong with my head?”

“You have a concussion, possibly some brain damage. The wounds were pretty deep.” Nightingale’s eyes filled with tears. “You could have been killed.”

Bill rolled his head away from Nightingale. He couldn’t stand to see her cry.

“Ah, you’re awake,” a voice said from the doorway. She looked official to Bill, like a nurse, dressed in a yellow uniform. She walked in and checked the tubes inserted into his wrists and read a monitor to ascertain his vital signs.

“How long will I be here?”

“That depends how quickly you bounce back. But now that you’re conscious, that’s a really good sign. You might be able to start eating solid food soon.” The nurse slipped a thermometer between his lips.

“Hospital food. I’ve heard about hospital food.” Bill
said when the thermometer was removed. He wasn’t relishing his first meal.

“At Halifax we have menus. You choose what you want to eat. The food’s pretty good, actually,” the nurse grinned at him, “for hospital food.”

“What about my head? What can you tell me?”

“You’ll have to speak with the doctor about your condition. I’m not authorized.”

“When will  he be in?”

“I’d say within the hour. It won’t be long. He’s been keeping a tight watch over you.” The nurse stepped back
, injected something into his I.V., then smiled at Bill. “I’m encouraged by what I see.”

Nightingale turned to Bill after the nurse left
his room. “See, she’s encouraged. You’re going to be fine, Bill. I could feel that from her.”

“Where’s Ralph now?” He wanted to return to the details of his situation.

“He’s dead.”

“Did you
have to kill him?” Bill hoped that wasn’t the case. He didn’t want Nightingale to have to live with that memory.

“No, he had me tied up with garden wire. My wrists?” She held up her hands again.
“He also bound my ankles, so I couldn’t do much of anything without the wire cutting into me.”

“So the deputies killed him?”

“No, not them, either. He sort of killed himself. Ralph was performing a ceremony. He had all these skulls in a circle around me, and black candles. So he was chanting and dancing around and took a big leap into the air, crashed down to the ground and then just laid there. I guess he had a heart attack.”

“Really?”

“Really. But when he fell, he had a candle in his hand, so his arm was near enough to me that he set my bathrobe on fire. And the barn caught fire as well. I thought I was going to become a toasted marshmallow.” Nightingale looked down at the bandaged wrists and made a funny face.

“Where was I? Conked out
beside the barn?”

“I guess so. I hadn’t seen you at that point.”

“So who rescued you? Deputies?”

“Margarite.”

“Margarite? Oh…I spoke with her…just before I came into the woods. But how…”

“She saw your car was still at Ralph’s house
sometime later and knew something was wrong, so she came back to the barn after she called 911. She found you, pulled me out of the burning barn and then Peter showed up.  We pulled you to a safe distance away from the barn and Peter hauled out Ralph’s body. Then all the rescue people started coming to  help us. It was quite a scene.”

“Margarite…and Peter. What was Peter doing in the woods?”


He’s thirteen, a boy. Why wouldn’t he be in the woods?”

“Yeah. Boys…do that.” Bill’s eyelids were getting heavy as his speech slowed.

How…about…that…” Bill stopped speaking altogether, his head nodding to the side as he fell asleep.

“Yes, sleep, my love,” Nightingale said, patting his hand. “Everything will be just fine. I know it will. And
remember, I’m always right.”

 

 

 

Cassadaga Book Series

 

Walking Behind the Moon

Dancing In the Sun

Flying Above Venue

Nightingale’s Nightmare

 

All titles are available through
www.amazon.com
,

the Cassadaga Bookstore and the Cassadaga Hotel.

Elizabeth Owens

 

Elizabeth Owens is an accomplished author, having published
four new age nonfiction books through Llewellyn Worldwide.  She has been an ordained Spiritualist Minister and Medium since 1985.  As a psychic artist, she has received notoriety by appearing on television shows such as The Other Side, CNN, Hard Copy, Now It Can Be Told, and Current Affair.

Elizabeth has served on the Cassadaga Board of Trustees,
is Associate Pastor of Colby Memorial Temple and maintains an office in the historical Cassadaga Spiritualist Camp in Florida.

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