Beyond the Reflection’s Edge (7 page)

The scene near the back of the reflection transformed. The room’s surroundings faded away, replaced by the two coffins, still carrying his parents’ bodies. Mictar reached into a coffin and withdrew a small sphere. As Nathan focused on the object, its identity clarified. An eyeball!

Mictar held the orb close to the front of the mirror. His voice lowered to a whisper, yet it still seemed to ring in Nathan’s ears. “Learn the mystery of the light within. Only then will you vanquish the darkness and defeat your enemies.”

Gasping for breath, Nathan sat up in bed and shouted, “You murderer! How dare you touch their bodies! Give them back to me!”

The coffins vanished. Mictar faded away. The mirror image warped and then clarified, showing Nathan’s room and a dim image of himself sitting up in bed. Lightning flashed again, illuminating his tear-streaked face, gaunt and pale.

He shivered hard. Pulling his blanket around his body, he
flopped back down in bed. It had to be a dream, the worst nightmare in history. As he turned to the side and curled into a fetal position, cold fingers seemed to stroke his skin, sending new shivers that shook his body so hard, the bed shook with him.

Closing his eyes, he bit his blanket. The horrible images impaled his brain — Mictar, the coffins, the eyeball. Would they ever go away? Would Mom and Dad ever find peace? Would he ever see them again?

The cold fingers lifted. His shivers settled. Yet, a new spasm began to rock his body. Nathan wept. Biting his blanket even harder, he sobbed on and on until darkness finally overtook his mind.

“Wake up, Nathan.” Radiance poured into the room. “It’s dinner time!”

Nathan shot up in bed, blinking at the hallway light framing Kelly’s dim shadow.

“Oh!” She flipped on the bedroom light. “Sorry to startle you.”

He jumped out of bed, raced to the window, and tried to open it. Locked. Leaning close, he peered at the varnished sill. No scratches. Windblown raindrops pelted the glass, painting tear streaks on his ghostly image.

“What’s wrong?” Kelly asked from the door.

He wiped his hand across his brow. “I don’t get it.”

“A nightmare?” She walked in. Now wearing clean blue jeans and a long-sleeved pink tunic, she set her hands on her hips and gazed at the window. “It’s no wonder. Add a thunderstorm to all you’ve gone through and that’d give anyone nightmares.”

Nathan stepped up to the mirror. “I could’ve sworn it was real.” He stared at his reflection. Not only was his hair standing on end, his pupils had shrunk to the size of BBs, barely visible in the center of his blue irises. “There’s something strange about this mirror.”

“What do you mean?”

He touched a vertical line on the glassy surface, leaving a fingerprint over the image of his nose. “Is it divided into sections?”

“Yep. Three hundred and ninety-nine, to be exact.” She wiped the print clean with the cuff of her sleeve. “Dad saw it for sale at a castle in Scotland and shipped it home. Some creepy museum curator convinced him that it could reflect what people were thinking.” She pointed at the lower left corner. “One piece is missing. My dad said that your dad took it years ago for some sort of experiment. He never gave it back.”

Nathan bent over and lifted his mirror, slowly unwrapping it as he watched Kelly’s image in the reflective matrix. “I think I know where the piece is.” Dropping the towel, he knelt at the corner space and slid his piece into the square vacancy. It fit perfectly.

A sudden burst of radiance erupted from the corner and spread across the entire mirror. Seconds later, it evaporated, like luminescent steam dispersing in the room.

Kelly slapped her hand on her chest. “Wow! What was that?”

“Too weird.” He pulled on the square, but it held fast. “It’s stuck.”

Stooping low, she touched the reflective mosaic’s newest piece. “The glue on the wall couldn’t be wet after all these years.”

Nathan pulled again, grunting.
Something
was making it hang on.

A loud voice pounded Nathan’s eardrums. “Welcome!” A burly hand grasped his upper arm and pulled him to his feet. “I’m Tony Clark.”

Nathan angled his head upward. A bug-eyed man with a boot-camp crew cut stared down at him from what seemed like two feet above his head. “Hi, Mr. Clark.”

He spread out his huge palm and grabbed Nathan’s hand, his long fingers wrapping around with a friendly but painful grasp. “Call me Tony.” Nathan squeezed him back with his violin-strengthened grip, more to relieve the pain than to show off.

“Now that’s a manly handshake!” Tony said, glancing at Kelly. She sighed and folded her hands behind her back.

Tony nodded toward the hall. “C’mon out to the dining room. Kelly really cooked up a storm.”

She rolled her eyes and whispered to Nathan, a look of disgust crossing her face. “A storm. Get it?”

As the three walked down the hall, Tony laughed. “A storm. Get it? It’s raining outside.” His deep voice resonated through the corridor as his long legs swept hurriedly past the grand piano. “Do you like Chinese?”

Nathan quickened his pace to keep up. “Sure.”

“Too bad,” Kelly whispered, following close behind. “We’re having Italian.”

Tony stopped at the dining room and extended his arm toward the table. “Too bad. We’re having Italian.”

The aroma of garlic-soaked tomato sauce flooded Nathan’s senses. A huge rectangular dish of lasagna graced the middle of the table, and a salad marked each of four place settings, knives and forks aligned perfectly over folded napkins and a pristine white tablecloth. With five high-backed chairs on each side and one on each end, the table seemed more suited for a football team than for an only child and her parents.

Kelly touched his shoulder and whispered. “Daddy kind of rushed you in here. He’s not exactly Mr. Sensitive. If you don’t feel up to eating with us, I’ll make an excuse for you.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be all right.” He nodded at each place setting, silently counting. “Four?”

“Clara called while you were sleeping. She’ll be here any minute.”

Tony sat down at the head of the table. “Sol and I called her ‘Medusa’ back in Poly-Sci class at Iowa. Her class was so hard we turned to stone. It’ll be fun to see what she’s like now.”

Nathan pulled out a chair and motioned for Kelly to sit. She smiled, her gaze locked on her dad’s face as she slid into the
chair and pulled it up to the table. Nathan seated himself on the opposite side.

Tony grabbed a knife, cut out a quarter of the lasagna, and heaped it onto his plate. “Dive on in,” he said, handing the knife to Nathan.

Nathan glanced up at Kelly. She gave him a quick nod, a sign that it was okay to serve himself before she could get hers. Just as he sliced into the lasagna, the doorbell chimed its low-pitched tone.

Kelly yanked her napkin from her lap. “That must be Clara.” But before she could get up, an authoritative voice sang from the piano room. “Tony, Tony, Tony. You left the door unlocked. I thought I taught you about home security in class.” Clara appeared at the dining room entryway. “You never know when a strange old woman might barge right in!” She unbuttoned a rain-dampened overcoat. “And a wet one at that!”

Nathan slid back his chair and stood up. Clara seemed much bubblier than she had been earlier in the day. That meant she had news.

Tony rose to his feet, stuffing his hands in his pockets while shifting his weight. “Don’t worry. This house is plenty secure. We’re out in the middle of nowhere.”

“I met your daughter this morning,” Clara said as she cast her gaze on Kelly. “I was delighted to see what a beautiful young lady she is!”

Kelly folded her hands in her lap, her face turning as pink as her shirt. “Thank you.”

Tony gave Clara an uneasy grin. “Of course she’s beautiful. Is that such a surprise?”

“Well, not to me, of course, but didn’t the other students unanimously vote you the ‘Most Likely to Produce a Troll’ award? At the time, I said it was ridiculous, and you have proven me correct.” She mussed Nathan’s hair. “And I like being proven correct, don’t I, Nathan?”

Nathan combed his fingers through his hair and smiled. “Rule number one: Clara is always right. Rule number two: If Clara is wrong —”

“See rule number one,” Tony finished. “I heard that in her class more times than I can count.” He gestured toward a vacant chair. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes, indeed,” Clara replied, “but first things first. There’s a trunk in the back of my Jeep. Would you or Nathan bring it in? It’s not so heavy that an old lady like me couldn’t carry it, but with the rain —”

“I can get it.” Tony waved his hand at Nathan. “You three go ahead and eat.” He disappeared into the piano room and, seconds later, the front door slammed.

Clara grimaced at the sound. “I hope I didn’t upset him with the troll award comment. He really isn’t nearly as ugly as his classmates said. He’s just … unusual.”

Clapping her hand over a widening grin, Kelly spoke through her fingers. “Don’t worry about it. He’ll be over it by the time he gets back.”

Nathan helped Clara take off her trench coat and hung it on a coat tree near the doorway. “Any news?” he asked.

Clara allowed him to seat her at the table. “Some news. Our lawyer gave me an envelope from your father’s safety deposit box. It contained money for your needs, so you won’t be destitute for a while.”

“Here it is!” Tony lumbered into the dining room and set the knee-high trunk on the floor, his face dripping.

Kelly jumped up and swabbed her dad’s forehead with a napkin. “I guess it was pretty heavy, after all.”

“It’s not heavy,” Tony said, pushing her hand away. “That’s rain, not sweat.”

Nathan laid his palm on the trunk’s damp wooden top and looked at Clara, who was still seated at the table. “So, have you figured out how to open it yet?”

“Heaven’s sakes, no!” Clara replied. “You and you alone should open it.”

Kelly caressed the ancient wood with two fingers. “I don’t see any seam; it’s like it doesn’t even have a lid.”

Nathan grasped the top edge and lifted. It didn’t budge.

Tony bumped him out of the way. “Let me try.” He rubbed his hands together, then, squatting for leverage, he grabbed the top and jerked upward. The entire trunk lifted into the air, and Tony fell backwards, still hanging on and cradling it against his chest.

Kelly stifled a laugh. “Are you okay, Daddy?”

“Yeah,” he said, gasping under the weight. “I think the only thing I injured was my pride.” He scooted the trunk to the floor and vaulted to his feet. Breathing heavily, he grabbed Nathan’s shoulder, his eyes bugging out more than ever. “I’ve got an idea. Be right back.” He marched out of the room.

Nathan looked at Kelly, but she just shrugged her shoulders.

Tony strode back in, a cordless circular saw in hand. He pulled the trigger, making the motor whine and the jagged blade spin. “This’ll cut through anything.”

“But that’ll ruin it,” Nathan said, laying his hand on top of the trunk.

Tony spun the blade again. “You want it open, don’t you?”

He glanced at Clara, but she just offered a shrug. “Okay,” he said. “But be careful.”

“I got you covered,” Tony shouted as he gunned the motor. “I’ll just cut off the very top.” He set the blade next to an upper corner and pushed it against the dark wood. The teeth squealed, but they couldn’t seem to bite into the grain. Smoke began rising from the saw. Tony’s face reddened. As he pushed harder, his muscles flexed, and sweat trickled down his cheeks. Finally, he pulled back and let the saw wind down. “Whew!” He wiped
his face with his sleeve. “I don’t know what that trunk’s made of, but I’ve cut steel with this blade before.”

“So no one could open it to put anything inside,” Nathan said. “It’s probably empty.”

“It felt empty when I picked it up and fell over. Nothing rattled around.”

Clara clapped her hands. “Well, we have quite a mystery to solve, don’t we? I have another suitcase to bring in, but for now I suggest that we all eat and rest. Perhaps tomorrow will provide new ideas.”

Nathan reseated himself at the table. “Another suitcase? Are you staying here tonight?”

“I’m afraid not. The suitcase is filled with new clothes for you.” Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh! I almost forgot your new violin. We should bring it in right away. After supper we’ll test it out, and then I will be off to Davenport again where your trust fund is being set up. As executor of your father’s will, I must be present to sign the paperwork.”

Tony sat in his chair and propped his elbows. “Do you know how much moolah he’s getting?”

“Daddy!” Kelly shouted. “What are you thinking? His parents were just murdered!”

“Oh … yeah.” Tony’s head drooped an inch. “Sorry.”

Nathan smiled weakly. “It’s okay Don’t worry about it.” Even as the words slipped out of his mouth, he regretted them. It really wasn’t okay. Tony’s remark was crass and stupid. Kelly was right. He wasn’t Mr. Sensitive.

Clara patted Nathan’s hand. “We’re all probably curious about the money situation, but I’m afraid it’s another mystery. The financial instructions were sealed with a directive to open them two days after your father’s passing, which is a Saturday, so we had to make special arrangements to make sure all parties were available. I’ll call Nathan as soon as everything is settled,
but even if his money is locked in a trust fund, he’ll likely have a stipend for his living expenses.”

After Nathan retrieved the violin, everyone slid up to the table and began the meal. Tony dominated the conversation, talking about basketball games in college with “Flash,” Nathan’s father, and how he wasn’t given that nickname because of his speed, but because of his love of photography. That’s what led him into photojournalism, then into investigative reporting, and finally into technology security. And, Tony lamented, what probably got him into trouble with whoever killed him and his wife. “Flash was far too trusting. He refused to believe what I learned the hard way. You can’t trust anyone. Everyone’s in the game for themselves.”