The Sinner (16 page)

A frown played across Kendrick's brow as he turned to scour the street. I wondered if he was making sure we wouldn't be overheard or if he needed time to figure out how much he wanted to tell me. “The other day at the cemetery...” His gaze came back to me in a way that made my heart flutter. “Maybe I'm wrong, but I thought we had a moment. Do you know what I'm talking about?”

I swallowed. “Yes, I think so.”

“I went to see Dr. Shaw because there is something extraordinary going on with this case. I can't explain it. It goes beyond a normal investigation.” He paused again as if to gauge my reaction. Finding no judgment, he went on. “Every time I go down to that circle, I feel something in those woods. Something or someone. I've searched the area at least a dozen times and I've never spotted anything out of the ordinary. But I know something's there. A presence. I can feel it watching me. Whatever it is, I think it may be trying to tell me something.”

I didn't say anything to that. I couldn't. To have confirmation that he also felt the watcher was almost more than I could process at the moment.

This was dangerous territory we'd entered.

A part of me wanted to confide my own experiences, but Darius's warning was still too fresh. If the
Congé
found out about my gifts and abilities, they'd hunt me down, he'd said.

They mark themselves with symbols and creeds.

My gaze went to the tattoo on the back of Kendrick's hand and then to the strange scar that looked like a brand at his neck. Was he
Congé
?
Was this some kind of test?

My pulse raced as our gazes held for another long moment.

“You don't have anything to say about what I just told you?” he finally asked.

“What is it you want me to say?”

“You can be honest. I know how crazy it sounds.”

I glanced away, but his intensity pulled me back. “I guess I'm wondering why you felt the need to tell me.”

“Because you may be the only person I can tell.” A shadow moved in his eyes. A quiet, almost desperate emotion that made me shiver.

“I have an open mind, but I'm not...” My hand fluttered to Rose's key. “I think you may have the wrong idea about me.”

He smiled sadly. “Or could it be, you have the wrong idea about me?”

* * *

At home, I made my usual rounds through the house with Angus at my heels. I didn't want to let him out of my sight. His presence was a comfort and I leaned down to pet his head as we made our way down the narrow hallway.

He balked at the front bedroom to pace back and forth in front of the doorway as he eyed me warily. I entered alone, rattled by his behavior and by everything else that had happened to me that day. Things had gotten a little too cozy between Detective Kendrick and me and I wasn't at all comfortable with this new layer of intimacy.

I moved about the bedroom, assuring myself there was no cause for alarm. If the Willoughbys haunted that airy space, I saw no evidence of a manifestation. Nor did I hear anything out of the ordinary, but certain areas did seem cooler than the rest of the house.

Quickly, I left the room and closed the door.

Angus and I retreated to the kitchen where I fixed a light supper for myself and supplemented his earlier dinner with a few treats. I even opened a bottle of wine, which was unusual for me. I rarely drank alone, but for so many reasons, I needed a little more fortification than the single glass of chardonnay I'd had earlier with Temple.

Carrying the bottle to the table along with my laptop, I occupied myself with busywork until Angus needed to go out. Then I stood and stretched, rubbing the back of my neck as I followed him out to the porch. He bounded down the steps and dashed off into the night.

“Don't go far,” I cautioned as I stood behind the latched screen door. During the months we'd lived in the house, his nocturnal wanderings hadn't concerned me. He could go almost all the way to the marsh and still remain safely confined within the fence. But I did worry now. The same barrier that kept him in wouldn't keep out the beings, living or dead, that might come looking for me.

When he didn't return as quickly as I thought he should, I stepped outside to call to him. “Angus, come!”

He trotted out of the shadows and came straight over to me, nudging my leg with his snout. The gesture was the closest thing to affection he'd shown me in ages and I fell to my knees, caressing his scarred head and scratching behind his ear nubs.

“You don't know how much I needed that tonight,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around him. He acquiesced for a moment and then pulled away with a little whine of protest.

We turned as one to go up the steps, but just as I reached for the door, I heard a sound behind me. The chant drifted out of the darkness, a distant singsong that seemed to ebb and flow on the breeze.

Beside me, Angus growled a warning. Not my imagination, then, or someone prowling around inside my head. He'd heard it, too. The chant seemed to come from the orchard. Swelling and swelling as the wind rose.

The single word now became clear to me, perhaps because Darius had forced me to open myself up to the vibrations of the dead and Rose's key could no longer protect me. Whatever the reason, I listened in dread to the ominous mantra undulating through the orange grove.

Rise
, those phantom voices chanted.

Rise. Rise. Rise.

Twenty-Two

I
sat at the kitchen table drinking alone. I didn't want to think about the meaning of that chant, but images kept floating through my head as I topped off my glass. Were Pope's dead disciples calling out to me? Imploring me to help them rise from their graves?

It was one thing to be lured to a cemetery where the trapped spirits were of the wronged and the innocent or to the ruins of an old church where ghost children cried out for justice. I was very much afraid that what called to me from beneath those mortsafes was a different kind of entity.

I wanted no part in the resurrection or release of Pope's disciples, but I wasn't certain I had the power to pick and choose. Like my great-grandmother, I had a light inside me that beckoned the unquiet. Since my time at Kroll Cemetery, I'd reluctantly come to accept that for the sake of my mental and physical well-being, it might sometimes be necessary to help trapped souls cross over.

But Papa had warned me about those spirits that wished to remain in the living world because of their hunger for human warmth and energy or their malicious penchant for creating chaos. And in some cases, I believed because of their fear of what awaited them on the other side. The desire to remain earthbound might be so great, he'd said, that the entities would try to snuff out the very light that drew them.

So, no, I didn't want to awaken those dead disciples any more than I wanted to face off against the zealots who waged war on the unnatural. Rose's key and Essie's charm could only do so much to protect me from the ghosts and they offered no safeguard at all against the human
Congé
. From here on out, I would have to rely on my sharpened senses and every last one of my abilities to keep from falling into the traps that I suspected had been set all around me.

Sufficiently numbed by yet another glass of wine, I headed off to bed, but sleep didn't come easy. When I finally managed to doze off, my dreams were filled with terrible images. Bestial faces grinning from the shadows. Hands reaching up to me from the caged graves. My own body parts strewn about the church ruins.

When the alarm went off at dawn, I felt nothing but relief. I crawled out of bed, packed up the car and headed with Angus for Seven Gates.

The cemetery was eerily silent. I saw no parked cars at the side of the road or boys on bicycles hanging about the entrance. No kids with fishing poles heading for the swamp, no policemen hurrying to and from the circle. It was as if the whole area had been abandoned and no one had thought to tell me.

The displaced sensation lasted all day and I had a strong sense that someone was messing with me, meddling with my reality.

My courage had been tested in the deepest part of the night, but now I refused to be driven from my work. Instead, I threw myself into the backbreaking tasks until my arms quivered and my legs felt like jelly. By the end of the day, I wanted nothing so much as a cool shower and an early bedtime, but instead I came home to find a strange car parked in front of the house and two people waiting for me on the porch.

As I pulled into the driveway, the man came down the steps and strode across the yard to greet me. He was nearly upon me before I recognized Officer Malloy in his plainclothes attire of plaid shirt, jeans and boots.

I wondered if there had been more trouble. Another body discovered in the circle, perhaps. A dozen scenarios flashed through my head, but all I could seem to focus on was my suspicion about the young police officer and his possible connection to Atticus Pope.

I slid out of the vehicle to confront him. “What's going on, Officer? Has something happened?”

He put up a hand to reassure me. “Everything's fine. Don't worry.”

My gaze darted to the woman on the front porch. “Is that Annalee Nash?”

“Yes. I'll explain everything, but you may want to calm your dog first.”

By this time, Angus was creating quite a ruckus. I got back in the car and fastened a leash to his collar. Then we both climbed out and I led him through the back gate where I spent a few moments stroking his fur. Satisfied that neither of us was in imminent danger, he settled down and I removed the leash so he could roam the fenced property.

When I walked back around the house, I found Malloy pacing in the driveway.

“What's going on? Why are you both here?” I didn't want to sound overly wary or to let my imagination run away with me, but I thought it odd that Annalee hadn't come over to greet me. She hadn't moved at all so far as I could tell. She just sat there staring out across the yard. “Is she okay?”

Malloy stopped pacing and glanced over his shoulder. “She'll be fine. I happened to be driving by earlier when I spotted her on the porch. I didn't think anything of it at the time. I assumed she was here visiting. Then I saw your vehicle at the cemetery so I knew you weren't home.”

“You were at the cemetery? I didn't see you,” I said, trying to soften the accusatory edge in my tone.

“Kendrick asked me to have a look around, make sure everything was okay. He's beefed up the patrols since you reported a disturbance, but I'm sure you already knew that.”

“I still don't understand how I could have missed you at the cemetery.”

“I don't know what to tell you,” he said with a shrug. “I went all the way down to the circle and back. You seemed fine so I didn't see any need to disturb you. Annalee was still sitting on the porch when I came back this way. I stopped to check on her because I thought she might be having one of her spells.”

“What kind of spell?” I asked in alarm.

He took my elbow and moved me out of earshot. “I don't think she can hear us, but you never know. From what I understand, she sometimes slips into these fugue states. She can move about if she wants to and sometimes she'll even speak to you, but she's basically unaware of what's going on around her. It's a little like sleepwalking, I guess. From a distance, she seems fine, but when you get close, you can tell by the glazed look in her eyes that she's not really there.”

Despite my suspicions, I couldn't help feeling for Annalee. I knew what it was like to awaken from a spell or a dream with no idea what had transpired during those lost moments. “How often does it happen?”

“Often enough that most people around here know to look out for her. If anyone sees her wandering around, they'll take her home and sit with her until she comes out of it.”

“Should we call someone? A doctor? Does she have any family close by?”

“Her family's all gone and the doctor would likely tell us to keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn't do anything to hurt herself. There's always the danger that she could walk out in front of a car or fall down a flight of stairs. Or worse,” he added ominously.

“That sounds terrifying. Has anything like that ever happened?”

“Not that I know of. Maybe she has a special instinct or sixth sense that keeps her safe. Anyway, there's really no point in both of us staying out here with her. You must be tired and probably hungry. Why don't you go on inside? I'll make sure she gets home safely.”

I was tempted by the offer, but I didn't feel at all comfortable going about my business with Annalee Nash lost in a trance on my front porch. “If you don't mind, I'd like to see for myself that she's okay.”

Malloy looked surprised but not particularly offended by my request. “Suit yourself, but I should probably prepare you first. It can be a shock the first time you see her like that. A little creepy, if you want to know the truth.”

“Thanks. I'll be fine.”

We walked across the yard together, and as we approached the porch, I measured my movements so as not to startle or frighten her. She looked as if she'd dressed hastily in an oversize T-shirt and shorts. Her hair had curled in the heat, and in the fading light I could see dark circles beneath her eyes. She sat hunched over on the steps, arms wrapped around her middle as her gaze remained fixed on something only she could see.

Then, as if a switch had been flipped, she tilted her head to stare down at me. “Oh, hello. I hope I haven't come at a bad time.”

The sudden shift caught me off guard. I didn't know how to react, nor was I certain I could trust her abrupt transformation. “Not at all,” I tried to say easily. “I just got home from work.”

Her gaze flicked over me. “I should have called before coming over. I'm sorry.”

“No, you're fine. Did you need to see me?”

“Yes. I'd like to discuss the restoration with you if you have a few moments.” She looked very young and innocent sitting there in her shorts and T-shirt with curls falling across her forehead. Under ordinary circumstances, I would have had great empathy for everything she'd been through, but now I couldn't help wondering what was really going on inside her head. If I peered too deeply into her eyes, would I find a wounded bird or the soul of a monster?

“What is it?” I asked as my fingers sought Rose's key.

“I know it's getting late so I promise I won't take up much of your time.” She glanced at Malloy, who lingered beside me at the bottom of the steps. “You can go now, Tommy. I'm sure you've better things to do than babysit me.”

“I'll take off in a bit, but I want to make sure you're okay first.”

“I'll be fine once you stop hovering. You know how I hate that.”

“Old habits die hard,” he muttered.

“Apparently so.”

I had a feeling something was going on between them that I didn't understand. An inside dynamic I wasn't privy to.

“I'll go wait for you in the car,” he said. “I really don't think you should walk home alone. This road gets pitch-black after sunset.”

“You don't have to tell me how dark it gets out here,” she said, still with that unsettling undertone. “Wait in the car if you must. I won't be long.”

As he disappeared across the yard, I became very aware of her proximity. Aware of her history with this house. I wasn't afraid of her, but I couldn't deny my uneasiness as I sat down on a step below her.

“I shouldn't have been so hard on him,” she said as she drew up her knees and wrapped her arms around her legs. She began to rock back and forth. The movement was oddly hypnotic and I glanced away. “He means well. Everyone in town means well. But the way they look at me sometimes...” She trailed off with a sigh. “Being the local freak can get a little tiresome.”

“I'm sure that's not how they see you.”

“Oh, I'm pretty sure that's exactly how they see me.”

“Then why come back here?”

“Because this is my home, and despite all the looks and whispers, the people here are unfailingly kind. They've always been very protective of me and I'm grateful for that. I'm not the easiest person to care about,” she said frankly.

“What do you mean?”

“I'm different. I know that. I always have been even before things changed.” She glanced over her shoulder at the house. “You know what I mean.”

“I've heard a little about what happened here.”

She rested her chin on her knees. “I knew you would as soon as that body was found. It was bound to stir up talk.”

I leaned back against the railing, watching her carefully. “Can I ask you something? Did you know about those caged graves?”

“No,” she said in surprise. “Why would you think so?”

“It just seems odd that no one around here knew anything about them.”

“They're in a remote location. No one even goes out to the cemetery anymore, let alone down into those woods.”

“Why is that?”

“Superstition, mostly.”

“Superstition about Seven Gates or about what happened here?”

“A little of both, I think.”

We were silent for a moment. Dusk was falling rapidly now. I could hear bullfrogs in the marsh and the closer serenade of the cicadas. Out on the road, the interior light in the car flashed and then the door clicked softly. I saw Malloy's face in the flare. He was looking up at the house and I wondered if he'd been standing outside his car listening to us.

I turned back to Annalee. When she didn't pick up the conversation, I said, “You wanted to talk to me about the restoration?”

“The historical committee is getting a little concerned about the schedule.”

I nodded. “I've had some interruptions in the past few days. I'm running behind but I can easily make up the time by putting in a few weekends.”

“That's not the concern. We all agree that you've made remarkable progress. I think the other members just want reassurance that you aren't going to pack up and leave us in the lurch.”

“Why would I do that?”

She gazed down at me. “With everything that's happened...who could blame you?”

“A lot has happened,” I agreed. “But I like to finish what I start. I've no intention of leaving. I am curious about something, though. Why didn't you tell me about what happened in this house before I moved in? You must have known someone would let it slip.”

“You seemed so adamant about wanting to get away from Charleston for the summer and there just aren't that many rental properties available in Ascension. I was afraid if I couldn't find you a place, you'd accept another offer and you have no idea how hard it was to raise enough money to even approach you. I've been trying to get the whole town involved in cleaning up that cemetery for years. Not just for personal reasons, but for the sake of everyone who was laid to rest there. If we lose our reverence for the dead, where does that leave us?”

It was an argument I'd made many times and Annalee sounded sincere. But I still couldn't get past the suspicion that she might somehow be playing me. That she might have an ulterior motive for wanting to keep me in Ascension.

“I should go.” She stood and then sank back down as if her knees had collapsed.