Twice Cursed (16 page)

He maneuvered his way down Avenue B
until he found himself face to face with the crime scene. The place
was deserted, transformed into more of a hollowed shell in just the
seven hours since he and Lily had left the premises. Remnants of
yellow police tape flapped in the wind, like so much shredded
ribbon. Plywood covered the windows and the front door, and it
looked as though someone had swept the glass and broken pieces of
wood from the sidewalk.

Ryan parked and got out of the car,
buttoning his coat against the wind. A wide sheet of graffiti
covered pressboard, blocked the entryway, nailed into what was left
of the original door jam. He pulled on his leather gloves and
searched around the edges for a weak spot. Finding a small gap on
the side, he gently pried the wood back, just far enough so he
could slide in behind it.

The interior of the bar was pitch
black, and Ryan fished in his pocket for his xenon tactical
flashlight. He clicked the base, and immediately a narrow swath of
light cut through the darkness.

The room was unchanged, and in the
silence, the glass crunching beneath his feet echoed like a train
wreck. He moved toward the backroom, the place where the images had
supposedly been the most vivid.

Holding the flashlight in his teeth,
he yanked what was left of the door from its hinges, laying it on
its side against the wall. The knowledge that he was now guilty of
breaking and entering, not exactly lost on him.

He moved through the doorway, shining
his light through to the center of the room.

“
Jesus Christ!” He jerked
back, drawing his gun. In a crouch, he fanned the light across the
floor, catching his own distorted reflection in the bent chrome of
the rolling bar. “Great. The crazy bitch has got me jumping at
shadows now” he muttered, holstering his gun.

No matter how he tried to deny it,
Lily’s words and her resolute certainty had unnerved him. Annoyed
at himself, and annoyed at her, he stood in the freezing
darkness.

What did he think he was going to
find? He wasn’t a psychic. The best he could do was register the
funky scent that permeated the place.

He moved toward the ruined couch. Even
in the constrained light, it was easy to see where dried blood had
crusted over surface fabric. The putrid scent was stronger here
than anywhere else in the room.

Pulling on a pair of latex gloves, he
took his penknife from his pocket. With a ragged breath, he leaned
forward, grabbing hold of one of the seat cushions, and jabbing the
edge of the blade into the center. He half cut, half ripped a wide
swatch, swallowing hard against the fetid stench.

He straightened up, closing his knife
before sticking it back in his pocket. “Here goes nothing,” he
whispered, taking a step back from the broken piece of furniture
and raising the foul piece of cloth to his nose.

Ryan closed his eyes and inhaled, his
stomach roiling in protest. Nothing but his own nausea registered,
and he forced himself to inhale again, this time moving the fabric
even closer. He gagged, the sour taste of whiskey rising to the
back of his throat, and he dropped the shred to floor. His knees
buckled, and he caught the edge of the couch. As he moved to get
up, his head reeled with olfactory images racing through his brain.
He couldn’t see, but his other senses took over.

Like a jigsaw, the one foul stench
separated into distinct scents, each one registering in his mind.
Sweat, sex, feces…but his mouth watered when he zeroed in on the
blood. He inhaled through his mouth, the smell coating his tongue,
and he moaned in visceral pleasure.

Ryan lurched forward, his fingers
clutching the flashlight as he struggled for the door. He crashed
his way out onto the sidewalk, and once again fell to his knees,
his body recognizing the truth in Lily’s words, even as his mind
revolted.

God in heaven, what do I
do now?

Chapter Six

***

Lily opened her eyes,
wincing against pressure throbbing behind her lids. Sunlight
streamed through the bedroom window, making her squint at the clock
on her nightstand
. 8:30 a.m.
Another bright winter day, in the city that never
sleeps because the nightmares are real.

Her bedroom was overly warm, and she
kicked the covers off her feet, freeing her legs. The baseboard
heat hissed quietly in the corner, the sound grating on her already
throbbing head. She hadn’t slept a wink. Fragments from the day
before plagued her mind, a cavalcade of terror haunting her dreams
like a horror film looped on replay.

Muffled sounds from the kitchen and
the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee, told her Jack was out of bed, but
the thought of getting up to join him left her even more exhausted
than she already was.

The phone rang, and she rolled onto
her back, draping one arm over her eyes, the counter pressure
offering a modicum of relief as she listened to the answering
machine pick up in the other room.

“
Jack!” she shouted,
wincing again with the effort. Her lips were dry, and her tongue
tasted like sandpaper spackled to the roof of her mouth.

His footsteps echoed, getting louder
until the bedroom door opened, the scents from the kitchen entering
along with him, making her stomach turn over. “You bellowed?” he
asked, wiping his hands on a dishtowel.

“
Don’t be a smart ass,” she
snapped, cringing as she tried to sit up. “I feel like
crap.”

“
Well that’s what happens
when a human consumes half a bottle of Jamison’s and an entire
bottle of merlot in one evening.”

“
Liar. I did no such
thing.” Pain exploded behind her eyes
Okay, maybe I sort of did
. “I heard
the phone ring. Was it Martinez?”

“
The machine got it, but I
don’t think it was him—not unless he woke up this morning as a
soprano. It was some woman named, Beverly. She left a message for
you to call her back.”

“
Beverly?” Lily slumped
back against the pillows.

“
That’s what I think she
said.”

“
Hmmm.”

He looked at her strangely. “Is
everything okay?”

“
What? Um, yeah…sorry. I’m
fine. I just didn’t sleep much last night,” she answered, but he
still eyed her with suspicion.

“
You sure? Perhaps there’s
something you want to share with the class?”

Lily couldn’t help her smile. “No. I’m
sure. I just need a cup of coffee to clear the cobwebs. Give me a
sec, and I’ll be right out.”

“
All righty,
then…”

“
Uh…Jack? Did she say
anything else?”

He stopped, giving her another weird
look. “Why don’t you just listen to the message
yourself?”

“
Hmmm,” she said again with
a nod. “I’ll be out in a sec.”

Jack shut the door behind him, and she
rearranged her pillows before turning over onto her side. Beverly.
Her phone call meant she and Carl knew she was back in town. Lily
hadn’t seen or spoken to them since Terry’s funeral—just left them
a quick note saying she was going back to Maine, and she’d be in
touch.

Of course, that never happened, and a
pang of guilt shot through her chest knowing she could have called,
but didn’t. And why hadn’t she gotten in touch with her best
friend’s parents, the people who took her in as a child? Because,
despite all her bravado, she was a chicken shit when it came to
family.

Beverly and Carl Hess were the only
two people, besides Terry, who could force her to face things she
didn’t want to face. In the past, she’d always had Terry as a
buffer. Now she’d have to deal with them alone. What was she going
to say when they asked where she’d been all this time?

Chicken shit.
Definitely
.

She pushed her covers back the rest of
the way, and jammed her feet into her slippers. The room may have
been overly warm, but hardwood floors in New York in February were
ice cold. Grabbing her robe from the end of the bed, she slipped it
on, and headed into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her
teeth.

“
You look like shit,” Jack
said, looking up from the paper. “Can I get you
anything?”

“
Two Advil and a cup of
coffee.”

“
Pain killers and caffeine.
The breakfast of champions.”

“
I’m in no mood, Jack, so
leave off, okay?”

“
Okay…
jeez
. I know you had a bad night,
but I’ve seen you more bandaged up than The Mummy and still have a
better disposition. What’s going on with you?”

“
Beverly is Terry’s mother.
I haven’t spoken to her since before Jerard attacked. I’m going to
have to go there today, and seeing them is going to bring it all
back—for them and for me.”

“
Why haven’t you called
them? The compound has a communication system that rivals NASA.
Surely, Sean would have let you make one long distance
call?”

Lily shrugged.

“
Bock, bock, bock,” he
said, crooking his arms in an elegant chicken
impersonation.

“
Jack…”

“
Sorry. But I still don’t
understand why you’re apprehensive? Just tell them you went to back
to hunt down the animal that mauled Terry, and ended up mauled
yourself. I mean, you have the scars on your throat to prove it, if
you have to. Say you ended up with temporary amnesia or something.
Just leave out the supernatural stuff.”

“
It’s not that. They know
me. Going off on my own is not something out of the ordinary. They
know it’s the way I cope.”

“
What, then?”

“
Terry was an only child
until I came into the picture. After my parents died, the Hesses
treated me like their own, same as Terry. I was the one who held
back, especially after realizing my psychic ability, always
thinking I would eventually be able to channel my parents, talk to
them. Terry thought so, too. As a kid, I wanted to believe my gift
was akin to a celestial long distance phone plan. My hotline to
heaven.”

“
So, what’s wrong with
that? I bet a lot of kids would have felt the same way.”

“
There’s nothing wrong with
it, except it got in the way of my ever feeling like Terry’s
parents were anything more than just that, Terry’s parents. It hurt
them, even though they never said a word to me about it. Now that
Terry’s gone, I’m afraid they blame me. Not because I made Terry go
with me to Maine, but because when Jerard killed her, he took me
away from them too. In essence, they lost both of us. Now I’m back,
and I’m afraid I won’t be enough. That I’ll hurt them all over
again.”

“
Lily, how you choose to
handle this is just that…your choice. Either you can continue to
run, or you can step up and be their daughter. It’s obvious you
love them. And from what you’ve said, they obviously love you too,
though God knows why. Just let that be enough. The rest will come,
if you put in time and effort.”

Lily considered him for a moment. It
was no surprise Jack had earned admittance to Sean’s Hunters at
such a tender age, or that he’d won a place in Sean’s heart. They
were so much alike. Wise, patient, and loyal to a fault.

***

Lily turned right at the end of the
exit ramp, and merged onto the rural highway heading toward North
Salem. This area of Westchester County was horse country, with
miles of grazing pastures traversing multiple townships and two
state lines, each separated by weathered, split rail fences and
dotted with stables and equestrian jumping courses.

She hadn’t been this way since August.
As the road twisted, she watched the landscape unfold across her
line of sight. Once lush acres lay fallow, buried under snow, and
the surrounding trees seemed melancholy in their hues of gray and
brown. Lily sighed, hoping the bleak colors weren’t an omen of how
her visit would go.

The road was rough from all the snow
and ice as she turned onto the long common drive Terry’s parents
shared with one of the local breeders. In the far paddock, a few
horses pawed the frozen earth, their beautiful manes shining in the
chilly afternoon sun, falling in a silken cascade across blankets
covering their flanks.

Beverly and Carl expected her over an
hour ago, so she shifted into low gear and headed toward the
private drive, almost hidden behind the leafless hedgerow across
from the barn. A quarter of a mile later, she was at the
house.

Putting the car in park, Lily quickly
checked herself in the makeup mirror, double-checking her dark
circles were properly concealed. Beverly was part bloodhound when
it came to sniffing out if her girls were taking care of
themselves, and the last thing Lily wanted was for their visit to
begin with maternal instincts blaring.

As usual, Carl had cleared the
driveway down to the blacktop. Lily knew the owners of the
neighboring horse farm always plowed the roads, but Carl was a
typical male when it came to his ‘toys’. Give him a reason to fire
up his snow blower, and he was a happy camper.