Sojourner (27 page)

Evan chuckles.  “A real torch-bearer, eh?  Maybe he’s better at not spilling things,” Lev says, pouring our sodas into glasses.  “I mean, no offense Evan, but for an angel, you really are clumsy.”

“No spaghetti for you, my ‘son.’”  He wields the spatula with a flourish and a smile.

“Bummer.”  He hands me a full glass and takes his own.  “Come on.  I’ll show you my room.”  He shoots Evan one more smirk before turning away.

I follow him down a long hall to the room at the end.  He reaches for the doorknob and slowly opens it.  As he flips on the light, I look around, stunned.  A room painted some other color besides an earth tone, but the ecru walls, take me back.  There’s a large map framed on the wall above his bed, and the only other decorations that line the walls are framed pictures of Lev, Evan, and Celia taken at various times during their ‘lives.’   The other things I notice are lots of old books on shelves.  He enters and I follow him, walking to the shelves to look at the titles.

“Shelly said you read a lot.”

He shrugs.  “Not really.  I just pretend because I’ve read so much stuff.  Anyway, so long as people think I’m buried in books, they tend to be very open about whatever they say, somehow equating bookwormishness with deafness.”

I laugh.  “Maybe I should try that.”

“It works.  Trust me.”

For a moment, he captures me with those dark blue eyes, and I think,
You have no idea how much I trust you.
  I pick up one book,
The Old Curiosity Shop
, and flip to a page in the middle.  Even as I looked at the page, I smell the musty pages.  Closing my eyes, I savor it.

“Lev?  Lizzie?” Celia calls from the hall and is at once in the doorway, breathless and wide-eyed.  All the color has vanished from her cheeks and both of us gape at her, trying to read her expression.  A sudden thought comes to mind and I want it to be wrong.  She waves us to follow, and all three of us race back to the living room.  Celia stops in front of the television.  Immediately, all of us stare at the screen, where a reporter stands on the trail near the falls.

“The body was discovered by two hikers shortly after noon today, and has been sent off by officials for dating and identification.  As it stands now, the trail is closed to future hiking until the crime scene investigation has been completed.”

The breath catches in my throat and a shiver quakes through me.  I look at my watch and realize Jimmie is probably still at home.  He always watches the news.  He’ll be freaking out.  I turn to Lev. 

“I need to call Jimmie.”

“Sure.  Follow me.”  He leads me to the phone, and I snatch it up and hit three wrong digits before finally getting the number right.  But instead of reaching Jimmie, I get his voicemail.  Normally, that wouldn’t be a big deal.  He misses calls sometimes or forgets to turn on his phone.  But today it just feels awkward, not right.  Something is terribly wrong and I can feel it. I hang up and turn to Lev.

“I need to go home.”

“I’ll drive,” Lev says.

Chapter Seventeen

The whole way home, I can’t stop shaking.  Pretending to be cold, I draw my coat tighter.  I try to ignore Lev’s drawn expression.  His hand slides along the seat until he finds my knee and rests there.  His usual warmth suffuses through me.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his voice rumbling through me.  In the darkness, his tan coat appears almost white as passing car lights stab through the windshield.

“Just thinking about Jimmie.”  I brush the hair from my face.

“Why don’t you try calling again?”  Lev pulls his own cell out and hands it to me.

“Thanks.”  I flip the phone open and dial the number.  As the unanswered rings add up, my shoulders ache.  I’ve been sitting all tensed and bunched up for way too long.  Or what seems like it.  I look at the clock on the cell and realize there’s no reason he shouldn’t answer.  I snap the phone shut.  We pull into the drive an eternity later.

“Everything looks all right,” Lev cranes his neck to take a close look at the property.

“Yeah, well, Ted Bundy looked all right, too,” I mutter.

“That’s a healthy thought,” he admits, cutting off the engine and pulling the keys from the ignition.  “I’ll go have a look.”

“I’m coming, too.” 

“Just stay here.”

I nod to the encroaching darkness.  “If you go in there and everything is fine, you’re going to make Jimmie suspicious as hell, which is the last thing either of us need.”

He holds up his hands.   “Okay.  Stay close.”

I walk around the truck until I’m standing beside him.  “This close enough?”

“Definitely.”  

Lapsing into silence, we both jog up the walk to the porch to find the door ajar.  Forcing myself not to panic, I nudge the door open.

Inside the living room is a tumble of overturned shelves and scattered books.  The sofa has been capsized and the recliner seat cushion has been slit, the stuffing strewn about the room like artificial snow.  DVDs are everywhere in and out of cases, and curtains have been torn down, leaving the blinds askew.  “Half-breed” is painted across the wall.

Breathing frantically, I start to rush inside but Lev grabs my arm.  “Call 911 now.  I’ll look for Jimmie.”

I lean against the doorframe and with trembling fingers flip open Lev’s cell.  I push 911 and wait.  On the second ring, the dispatcher picks up.

“911.  How may I assist you?”

I fight to keep my voice even.  “Someone broke into my house, and I haven’t found my guardian yet.”  I watch Lev carefully move some of the books and shelves aside.

“Please calm down, Miss.  What is your address?”

“4618 SW Finley.”  The trembling in my voice sounds like I’m about to lose it.  I’m dizzy and breaking out into a cold sweat.

“I’ll send a unit right out.  Is the intruder is still there?”

“I don’t know.  We’re having trouble getting past all the clutter on the floor.”

“Is anyone at the residence injured?”  Her voice is so calm.

I stammer, biting back my hysteria.  “I don’t know.”  I keep looking at all the damage.  I stumble over my own two feet, and even though she’s asking another question, I can’t make out what she’s saying.  All I can think about is Jimmie and how none of this was supposed to happen.  I try to step to the left but my foot gets tangled in a pile of books, tripping me.  The world is completely silent as my knees immerse themselves amid the mess.  The phone lands atop a broken picture, and it’s then I see the glass jutting from my palms.  An image of Jimmie floods into my mind and I start crying.  I feel my body spasm with soundless sobs.

Lev turns abruptly and quickly steps over to me, grabbing the cell phone and says something to the dispatcher.  Then he snaps the phone shut and lifts me.  He’s speaking, but I don’t hear him, either.

“You have to calm down.”  I watch his face but his lips aren’t moving.  Lev turns my palms up.  Four distinct gashes seep blood, and Lev runs his fingers over them, eyeing the jagged remnants he gingerly pulls out. 

“You can’t help like this.  Focus.”  He finishes with my hand and forces me to look at him.  “Just breathe, and wait for the world to resume.”

The first sound I hear is that of my own heart.  It’s galloping so fast it seems it will never slow. Then I hear the faint wail of approaching sirens.  Finally, I hear the lazy spin of the ceiling fan above us.

“The police are almost here,” he says.  I rise and start upstairs, but he holds me back.  “Let the cops go in.”

“What if Jimmie’s hurt?”

Lev shakes his head.  “I don’t think so.  I’m used to carrying souls across the threshold; I’m pretty sure I’d know if someone here were close.  Trust me.”

I nod as Lev grips my elbows and forces me to go with him.  Together, we step to the door where a cop is getting out of his car and walking to the door.

“We had a call about breaking and entering.”

I nod woodenly.

He looks from me to Lev.  “You two need to wait outside so I can go through the house.”

“Yes, Sir.”  Lev rests his hands on my shoulder, rubbing gently, reassuringly.  “We’ll be out by my truck.”  I start to fight, but I’m no match for Lev’s determination as he pulls me outside.

“Let me go.”  I keep struggling.

“I’ll carry you if I need to.”  His flat tone and neutral expression tells me he’s determined.

The last thing I see before Lev forces me outside is the cop drawing his gun and starting up the stairs.  Panic threatens to consume me, but Lev’s soothing warmth keeps washing over me, fighting back.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispers.  “Trust me.”

“Why Jimmie?” I ask softly, turning into him so that I can rest against the warm soft wall of his chest as his arms curl around me.  I feel the truck at my back.

“It may be related to the discovery today,” Lev says.  “When Jimmie went to the police years ago, there was no case to be made.  Your father was just missing.  Everybody thought he took off.  Everybody except Jimmie.  Now that suddenly there is a body, Jimmie might have a reason to start dissecting this little town, trying to discover who hated your father enough to want to kill him.  Probably Jimmie knows something he really doesn’t remember knowing, and that something could cause a world of problems for the attacker so Jimmie is a ticking bomb the killer has to deal with.”

If he wasn’t holding me so tightly, I’d be shaking to pieces, but the calming aura comes with Lev, and as long as I feel him touching me, I can survive this fear.  His words swim around me.  I know there is meaning in them, and Lev’s more apt at pulling things together as they should be than most others.  So I just let the world wait apart from this moment.

A couple of moments later, the cop comes outside and does a perimeter sweep before walking over to Lev’s truck.  “The house is clear.  I found Mr. Abram and have called for an ambulance.”

I take a shuddering breath and pull away from Lev as the world restarts its shuddering spin.  Even though I lurch toward the house, Lev maintains a hand on my back.

“How is he?”  My voice sounds desperate.

“Breathing but not conscious.”  He eyes the house.  “I need to clear a path for the EMTs.  You two stay here”

“Oh my God.” Tears burn my eyes threatening to spill down my face.  Lev’s hands brace my shoulders.  I try to pull away from them, hating the way he wants to numb my pain, as if not feeling it will make it less real, a distant memory I can keep simmering in the back of my mind instead of burning through my thoughts, consuming me.

A siren wails distantly, and all I can do is stand there numbly and wait until the ambulance lurches to the house.  Two EMTs get out.  One carries a medical bag and the other some kind of a board.  Lev’s hands moved from gently massaging to gripping my shoulders.  They glance at us, and Lev nods to the house.

“Jimmie can’t die.”  I meet his eyes and whisper, “Save him.  I’m begging you.”  My voice is filled with pain I can’t control.

Lev brings me close and kisses my forehead.  “I can’t,
Elizabeth.  It’s not in my power, though I wish it were.”

I close my eyes, and feel lightheaded, as though everything is warped and weird.  “If something happens, it’s because of me,” I whisper.  “It will be my fault.”