The Suicide Forest (The River Book 5) (3 page)

“OK,” Steven said. “I’ll be careful.”

“Jesus Christ, what have we gotten ourselves into?” Roy said,
leaning back in his seat and taking a long exhale. He turned to look out the
window as the houses went by.

◊

Steven jumped off the boat and helped guide Dixon into the
slip. He and Roy had gone to see Dixon at his boat in Ballard, and Dixon had
suggested they visit someone who lived in Gig Harbor. Then Dixon had insisted
on taking them across the sound to meet the person he’d recommended.

“She’s up that hill, house at the top,” Dixon said as Roy
stepped off the boat. He handed Roy a card. “Here’s her name and address,”
Dixon said. “Be nice to her, ‘cause you need her help. But don’t let her bully
you.”

Bully you?
Steven thought. With Roy, it was usually the other way
around.

“You’ll wait here for us?” Roy asked Dixon.

“I’ll be here,” he said, knocking out his pipe and refilling
it. “Just don’t take all day.”

“Alright,” Roy said, joining Steven and beginning the march
up the hill from the marina. They passed several marine shops, which turned to
tourist gift shops after another block.

“Always liked this place,” Steven said. “Very picturesque.”

“Full of snobs,” Roy said. “Worse than Mercer Island.” Steven
knew better than to argue with him. Arguing over these types of things with Roy
never ended well.

They walked in silence up the hill as the gift shops gave way
to homes. As they reached the top, they began checking house numbers.

“1057,” Steven said. “It’s the next one.”

They both glanced up at the next house, an old three story
gothic mansion from the late 19
^th
century. It looked right out of a
horror movie, except it was well cared for and was surrounded by flowers. They
walked up to the front door and pressed the doorbell. Above the doorbell was a
tiny sign that read: “No solicitors or missionaries.”

A tall, thin woman in her mid-thirties opened the door. She
was dressed in a classic maid uniform, something Steven hadn’t seen outside of
television. She invited them in.

“We’re here to see Mrs. Judith Duke,” Roy said. “I think
she’s expecting us.”

“Please follow me,” the maid said, escorting them into a
small room just inside the entryway. There were several chairs and sofas in the
room, and several cases of books on the walls. “Would you wait here while I
inform Mrs. Duke that you’ve arrived?”

“Of course,” Roy said. The maid pulled the door closed behind
them.

“Fancy place,” Steven said, looking at a marble bust on a
shelf.

“I wonder if she earned it,” Roy said, “or if she inherited
it. Dixon said she’s the best he knows on the subject. Maybe you should let me
do the talking?”

“When do I not?” Steven asked, continuing to admire the
objects in the room.

The door opened again, and the maid said, “Mrs. Duke is ready
to see you. Would you both please follow me?”

They followed the maid as she led them upstairs to a room on
the second floor. “Mrs. Duke is a little incapacitated today, and doesn’t have
the strength for the stairs, so she’ll be seeing you in the upstairs sitting
room. If you wouldn’t mind limiting your visit so as to not tire her
excessively.”

“Of course,” Roy said.

“Mr. Roy Hall and Mr. Steven Hall,” the maid said as they
entered the dark sitting room. At the far end was Mrs. Judith Duke, reclining
on a daybed. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a state of perfection.
Her skin was dark and wrinkled, the result of years of sun exposure, and the
lower half of her body was under a blanket. From her daybed, she had a view out
a large window that overlooked the front yard.

“I saw you come up from my nest here,” she said, pointing to
the window. “Forgive me for not getting up, but these old bones can’t manage it
today.”

Roy and Steven approached the daybed and shook her hand,
which was frail and delicate. Steven could feel each bone in her hand as he
touched her. “Nice to meet you,” he said as he released her hand.

“Likewise,” she said, glancing up at him for a moment, and
then returning her eyes to the window. “You came in Dixon’s boat. I watched you
arrive.”

“We did indeed,” said Roy. “We left from Ballard.”

“Dixon is a wonderful man,” she said, letting her head tilt
slightly to one side as she said it. Given what Steven knew about Dixon’s
reputation for exploits, he wondered if Judith Duke was one of the many ladies
he’d romanced over the years.

“I don’t normally see people these days,” she said, “but if
Dixon says I need to see you both, then I don’t doubt there’s a good reason.”

“We’ve encountered something troubling,” Roy said, “and we
need the advice of someone who has expertise. I’ve encountered something like
it before, but this is different.”

“Ah,” she said. “That old game. There are many people out
there who consider me an expert on many things — it’s true. But if you don’t
come to the point, you might exhaust me before I can do anything to help you.”

Roy seemed a little taken back, so Steven jumped in. “There
is a woman we were trying to help, in Seattle,” Steven said. “There was
something threatening her, upset at our presence in her home. We were only
trying to figure out if her home was haunted, but whatever it was threatened to
kill her if we remained there. My father felt it was out of our depth.”

“Really?” She asked, turning her head from the window to face
them. “How do you know that?”

“He felt it was demonic,” Steven said. “And I felt something
evil when I was there. Neither of us know much about that side of things.”

“Roy, would you bring me that glass cruet on the table over
there?” she said, waving to the opposite wall. “And three glasses?”

Roy retrieved the items, and placed them on the table next to
the daybed, where Judith began to pour, filling each glass.

“None for me, thank you,” Steven said.

“It’s not spirits, my dear, if that’s what you’re thinking,”
Judith said, replacing the stopper on the cruet and handing a glass to Roy.
“It’s something we’re going to need if we’re to keep discussing this.” Roy took
the glass from her hand, and she passed another glass to Steven. Once they all
had a glass, she raised hers with a small salute, and they all shot the drink.
Steven and Roy placed their empty glasses on the table next to the cruet.

“I’m guessing that was some kind of protection?” Roy said.

“Incredibly astute,” she said with a tone that made it hard
to detect if it was sarcasm. “I’m looking forward to your next observation.”

Steven stepped in again, afraid Roy might take things off
rails. “I’ve taken protection before,” Steven said, “but only just before
something dangerous was about to happen. I hope nothing dangerous is imminent.”

“It is,” Judith said, motioning for them to sit in nearby
chairs, “if we are going to discuss whatever you felt in your client’s house. You’ve
come to me for my experience, and this is the first bit of it I’ll share with
you: half the battle with these things is not opening yourself up to them. Talking
about them can, in some cases, invite them in. Once they’re in, they can be very
difficult to get rid of. I find it’s a lot simpler to protect one’s self so
they don’t get in in the first place, then you don’t have to worry about
getting them out. What we just imbibed will allow us to discuss your situation
without fear we’ll be overheard, or what we say mistaken as an invitation. Do
you understand what I’m talking about?”

“I think so,” Steven said.

“You know how the religious and superstitious always warn
children not to play with Ouija boards?” she asked him. Steven nodded, and she
continued. “Just playing with them invites something in, they say. Well, it’s
true. Of course, there has to be something the invited want. They don’t come in
without a purpose. But there are so many things they want. So just talking
about them – even thinking about them – can bring them in. You open up that
part of your mind they’re not supposed to see – it’s like a lighthouse, shining
through the fog, showing them where to go.”

“What we just drank will keep the lighthouse turned off?”
Steven asked.

“You’re as bright as your father,” she said, closing her
eyes, looking slightly bored.

“Clara!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, and began
ringing a bell that was on the table by her daybed. “Clara!”

The door to the room creaked open and the maid appeared.
“Yes, Mrs. Duke?”

“Please bring some tea,” Judith said. “And some of those
little sandwiches.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Clara said, exiting the room and closing the
door behind her.

“You must try them,” Judith said, suddenly perking up. “I
realize it’s not dinner time yet, but the bread comes from a bakery in Tacoma
and is sliced incredibly thin. The English cucumbers are grown year-round in an
organic hothouse up in Silverdale. If you haven’t had these particular
cucumbers, you haven’t lived. They excite the tongue in absolutely incredible
ways. Now. About your problem. Tell me exactly what you saw, heard, smelled,
and felt. Leave nothing out. Begin.”

Roy seemed resigned to let Steven respond to her.
He’s
probably a little put off by her,
Steven thought. Steven began relating
their experiences with June. He let Roy tell what the trance had been like.

“How did you come across this book you were returning to
them?” she asked.

“We found it along with some objects when working on another
case,” Roy said. Both he and Steven had agreed to keep Eximere secret for now,
until they had returned more of the books, so he didn’t share any more about it.
“Once we determined who it belonged to, we tracked down their children until we
found June.”

“You’re only telling me half the story,” Judith said, “but
you have some reason for not telling me all of it that you think is significant.
Fine, I don’t want to know. It doesn’t really bear on the situation, anyway. I
was asking for my own amusement. But you must be honest with me about things
that matter.”

“Do you have any idea what we’re dealing with?” Steven asked.

“No,” Judith said. “It could be one of a thousand things or
beings. And so asking me what to do about it would be premature and wildly
unfruitful, even though it’s what you really want to know.”

“Any way to whittle it down?” Steven asked. “Figure out what or
who we’re dealing with?”

“How intuitive!” Judith said to Roy. “Your son seems to know
the next step, as though he’s done this before. Clara will be entering the room
in a moment, and we’ll all stop discussing this while she’s here.”

On cue, the door opened and Clara came in with a tray, loaded
with tea and sandwiches. The sandwiches were impossibly small.

“Here now, you must try one of these,” Judith said, picking
one up with a small pair of tongs, and passing the bread and cucumber over to
Steven. He opened his hand and accepted the offering, which she placed in the
exact center of his palm. Steven looked at it – it was no more than half an
inch square.

“Aren’t they delightful,” she said, passing one to Roy, who
opened his palm as well. “Thank you, Clara, that will be all.”

After the door had closed, Judith began pouring tea for both
of them. Steven really didn’t want any, but he knew better than to refuse her.

“The next step will involve a token,” she said, passing a cup
to Steven. “The token will keep whatever is in the house busy with something
else whenever you’re there, so you’ll be able to talk to this woman without
fear of her being hurt because of your presence. You’ll send the token to her in
a package with a note, explaining that she must keep the token pressed between
her palms, like this – ” Judith demonstrated by holding her hands together,
palms pressed tight – “whenever you are there working with her in the house.
That is how she’ll stay safe, and it’ll allow you to keep researching. You won’t
be able to go back until she’s received it and is ready to use it. For god’s
sake don’t deliver it yourself. Mail it, or have UPS deliver it, something like
that. Instruct her to call you when she’s received it and understands how to
use it.”

“Alright,” Steven said. “What is the token?”

“We’re going to make one,” she said, “specially for this
situation. Roy, there’s a drawer in the bureau over there. Inside is a small
tin that has several coins in it, would you bring it over to me?”

Roy rose, set down his tea, and walked over to the bureau,
rummaging through the drawer she mentioned. He returned with a small mint tin,
which he gave to her.

“Thank you,” she said, opening the tin and removing a 50 peso
coin. “I had these consecrated years ago. You have to use something that is
small, so it can be held easily. I used to use American quarters, but I found
people kept accidentally mixing them in with their normal change, so I switched
to foreign coins. They’re still the right size, but they stand out and don’t get
lost. You see, more of my experience for you to benefit from!” She smiled
weakly at Steven, handing the coin to him. “Place it in your palm, and jump
into the flow, please,” she said.