Read The Restorer Online

Authors: Amanda Stevens

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal

The Restorer (37 page)

BOOK: The Restorer
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He sniffed and wiped his eyes. “But it’s all right now because I know now how to finally end it. Every last obstacle has been removed.”

“Camille…?”

He drew a shaky breath. “I didn’t want that. If there’d been any other way…”

He
had killed Camille. Not Clayton. Whether he wanted to believe it or not, there was a bit of that monster inside him.

“I thought you’d caught something with your camera that day, but you were never a threat. It was Camille. She saw me on the path one night coming back from Oak Grove. I told her I was researching my book, but she was too smart for her own good and started asking questions. If she could have just left well enough alone for a little while longer, it wouldn’t have mattered. She could have gone to the police, told them what she suspected and I would have still been free of Clayton forever.”

“How…?”

“By allowing him to come to you, Amelia.”

An icy shiver went through me.

“After tonight it wouldn’t have mattered,” he repeated sadly.

And then I understood. The moment Clayton’s ghost latched onto me, Daniel planned to kill himself. It was the only way he could be free of his ghost. For all eternity.

“Sleep now,” he said softly. “It’ll soon be over.”

FORTY-ONE

I
woke up with the taste of vomit in my mouth and the smell of decay in my nostrils. The surface beneath me was cold and rough, and something cut into my cheek so I tried to lift my head. A wave of nausea rolled over me and I retched violently.

Collapsing back to the floor, I lay perfectly still until my head began to clear. Bits and pieces came back to me. Daniel Meakin had been in my house. He’d confessed to killing Clayton Masterson. What was it Ethan had said about the murder? At least seven major stab wounds. It was a vicious kill.

He’d tried to free himself of his tormentor, only to find he was still bound to Clayton’s ghost. Now he meant to lure Clayton to me.

Stumbling to my feet, I shuffled forward until I felt the wall. It was damp and slimy, like the walls in the chamber below Oak Grove.

I reached down and patted my pocket, surprised to find he’d left my cell phone on me. Why wouldn’t he? There was no signal down here, no way of calling for help. At least the display offered some illumination and maybe that was his intention. I’d gotten the impression he wanted me to think kindly of him. It was important to him that I understand his motivation.

I did understand. But I couldn’t condone or forgive.

Holding the light up, I inspected my prison. Ancient, brick walls. Thick, drapey cobwebs. I had a feeling I was deep, deep underground, in an undiscovered part of the tunnel, but unlike before, I saw no opening, no door, no way out. Nothing but solid brick.

How could that be? He’d put me in here. There had to be a way out.

Unless the wall had been sealed behind me…

A scream welled in my throat, but I pushed it back down. I couldn’t panic. I couldn’t lose my focus or I would be doomed.

I walked the room again and again, tearing through the sticky webs and prying at bricks until my fingers were raw and bleeding.

Exhausted, I sank to the floor and buried my head in my hands. How would anyone know to look for me here behind a solid wall?

As I sat there, I felt a cold presence. Something stirred my hair, skimmed the back of my neck. Tugged at my hand…

My head came up in panic and I lifted the cell phone, but I could see nothing in the gloom.

Was Clayton already here? Terror washed over me and I scooted back against the wall, my eyes wide and searching.

After a moment, the coldness faded and I told myself I’d imagined it. I was still suffering some of the aftereffects of the drugs he’d put in my tea. He must have been observing me for some time to know my habits well enough to predict I would have a cup when I came home. Maybe he had peepholes in Macon’s apartment through which he’d been watching me.

I shivered and wrapped my arms around my middle. I was cold, scared and so very lost. I thought about Mama and Papa and Devlin. All the people I cared about. Would I ever see any of them again?

At some point, I must have dozed off, because I saw myself fleeing down an endless tunnel where hands reached through walls to grab me. I ran through rooms of hanging corpses, ghosts floating at my heels, and somewhere in the distance, always just beyond me, I could hear Devlin’s voice calling out to me.
This way! Hurry!

But it wasn’t Devlin who guided me. It was Shani.

She tugged on my hand, urging me forward. Then, just ahead of us, I saw the ghost of Robert Fremont. He hovered beyond the hanging corpses, waiting for us. As we made our way to him, he turned and disappeared through the wall.

I could hear footsteps behind us and the sound of dragging chains. Tearing my way through the cobwebs, I closed my eyes and followed Fremont through the wall. I looked down at my hand. Shani was gone. For some reason, she hadn’t come through the wall with me. I wanted to go back for her, but the wall was solid now. I’d lost her….

With a start, I lifted my head and gazed around. I was alone in the chamber, but for a moment, I’d felt their presence so strongly…

Struggling to my feet, I walked over to the wall where I had seen Fremont disappear in my dream. I held up the cell phone and scrutinized every inch of the wall, finding nothing but badly crumbling mortar.

And then I saw it. My way out.

If a fly had led Devlin and me to that first hidden chamber, another would show me the way out of this one.

I would never have noticed the crack in the wall if not for the iridescent glint of a fly slipping through a tiny hole in the mortar. I traced the fracture with my fingertip.

It was a door of sorts, cut so that the bricks matched up perfectly when fitted into place. Setting aside the phone, I pressed with my hands, then leaned a shoulder against the bricks. Finally, I dropped to the floor and kicked as hard as I could until the panel fell away, revealing another chamber.

The smell of putrefaction rolled out of that opening, along with a black cloud of buzzing flies.

They lit on my arms, my face, my lips. I swatted them away and, pulling my shirt up over my mouth and nose, inched up to the hole with the light. The smell was definitely coming from inside. I gagged and rocked back on my heels, shuddering at what must lie beyond.

Bodies. The ones Daniel hadn’t had time to bury.

How many? I wondered.

I’ve lost count. I tried to be judicious with the selection…chosen only those poor souls that needed freeing…

Ignoring the crawl of tiny legs in my hair, I swung the cell phone light into the opening. More brick walls. More cobwebs. The silhouette of what I feared might be a hanging body.

And that smell. It was everywhere, permeating every crack and crevice, clinging to my clothes, my skin, the inside of my nostrils…

I pulled my shirt tighter against my nose.

As I stepped through the opening, water sloshed over my boots. The smell rose again, stronger than ever, and I wondered about that liquid beneath my feet.

I wouldn’t think about it…
couldn’t
think about it now….

My feet slipped from under me and I landed with a horrible splash. Water splattered into my face and I screamed. I pulled myself up, gasping and gagging.

Careful of my footing, I eased along in the darkness.

The drone of flies filled my head, making me thankful I couldn’t see beyond the anemic illumination of my cell phone.

I walked in a straight line as best I could until I came to another wall, and then I searched and searched until I finally stumbled upon a second opening. Wet and shivering, I crawled through only to find myself in a similar room.

Just when I despaired of ever getting out of that maze of chambers, I crept through yet another hole into a long, narrow tunnel. The air was fresher here and the fetid odor faded. I hoped that meant I was near an outside entrance.

I stood for the longest moment in an agony of indecision. Which way to go? Then I heard footsteps coming up hard behind me, and I didn’t wait to see who would emerge from those shadows. Who else could it be but Meakin?

Turning, I fled down the tunnel, the cell phone barely lighting my way.

Scurrying through yet another hole, I found myself in a round, well-like enclosure and I knew exactly where I was. I glanced up and saw the soft lavender of a twilight sky and felt like weeping for joy.

I began to climb. I was almost all the way to the top when I heard footsteps, the scramble of a body through the hole and the clang of the metal ladder as my pursuer came up after me.

He said my name. Just that.
Amelia.
In that soft drawl I loved so much and I glanced down into Devlin’s upturned face a split second before a hand clamped around my wrist.

I would never have thought Daniel Meakin so strong, but he dragged me through the opening, slammed the cover shut and shot home a bolt that had not been there when Devlin and I had come up through the well weeks before.

Devlin pounded on the door and I tried to get to him, but Daniel grabbed me and I went at him like a demon, clawing, kicking, pounding him with my fists.

He cowered away, then whirled with a knife, slashing the blade across my upper arm. I felt searing pain and a gush of blood as I staggered back and fell to the ground.

He stood over me, but he was no longer alone. Now that twilight had fallen, the ghost of Clayton Masterson had slipped through the veil.

His right hand bound to Meakin’s left.

It was Clayton who had slashed my arm…

Daniel whimpered. “You can see him. I know you can. All you have to do is acknowledge him and it will all be over. Please…please…let it be over.”

It would be over for him, but not for me. So I did not acknowledge the ghost. I lay with my gaze fixed on Daniel. As blood gushed through my fingers.

He fell to his knees, face crumpling, and for a moment, he and the ghost were caught in a terrible struggle. I saw my chance and lunged for the well. My fingers closed over the bolt and I shot it back just as Daniel rose with the knife. I knew what he meant to do, but Devlin did not. As he flung open the door and came up out of the well, he saw Daniel standing over me with a bloody blade. He couldn’t see Clayton. He couldn’t know the battle that waged between them.

He called Daniel’s name once, twice, and then he fired.

 

I lay sprawled on the ground, head spinning.

The paramedics had arrived on the scene. One of them applied pressure to my arm while the others worked on Daniel, but they were too late. I knew the second he died. I saw his spirit drift away, still bound to the ghost of Clayton Masterson. For all eternity.

And then from the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a dark silhouette emerging from the edge of the woods. Then another and another, until they surrounded and engulfed the two ghosts.

The shadow men had not come for me after all. They had come for Daniel Meakin.

 

My arm would need stitching, but for now the bleeding was under control. I sat at the back of the EMT van, my gaze riveted on Devlin, until I spotted a familiar face lurking in the background. It was odd to me that no one paid him any attention, but then I remembered why.

I walked toward him, a little unsteady from the painkillers. “You were down there with me, weren’t you? You showed me the way out.” He and Shani had saved me. “Why?”

I could feel his icy gaze on me through his dark glasses. “Because I mean to have justice,” said the murdered cop. “And you’re the only one who can help me.”

“Amelia?”

I turned as Devlin walked up beside me. He stared at me with a strange look on his face. “Who were you talking to?”

I glanced around. No one was there.

He put a hand on my shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“No,” I said with a shiver. “But I will be.”

I wanted to ask how he’d found me tonight, but at the moment, it seemed too much trouble. I had a feeling Robert Fremont had played some role. I shuddered to think what his ghost wanted from me, but that was a worry for another day. Right now, I wanted to savor my moment with Devlin.

I laid my head against his chest and he held me so tenderly I wanted to weep.

But the moment was fleeting. Twilight was upon us and his ghosts were waiting.

EPILOGUE

D
ays later, I still didn’t understand how Devlin had found me that night. He said they’d tracked my cell phone signal to the mausoleum, but I didn’t see how that was possible when I’d been so far underground. I couldn’t shake the notion that Robert Fremont had somehow been instrumental in leading Devlin to me, just as he and Shani had guided me out of the chamber. I was indebted to him, but the thought of what he would require of me made my blood run cold.

So many questions…so many mysteries…

I left it all behind to recuperate in Trinity with my parents. I was there for a week and on my first day back home, I dug up the tiny ring I’d buried in the garden and drove down to Chedathy Cemetery, where I placed it in the center of the cockleshell heart. I suppose I meant it as some sort of thank you or maybe even a farewell, but I had a feeling I would be seeing the ghost child again.

Devlin drove up as I was leaving. If he thought it strange to find me there, he didn’t say so. I waited for him at the edge of the cemetery and he caught my hand as he walked by. We stood there for a long moment—I on my way out, he on his way in. I tried to pull away, but he held on to me.

“Are you ever going to tell me what happened that night?” His gaze burned into mine. “Why did you run away from me?”

I shivered and glanced away. “Someday I’ll explain. But not now. It’s not our time.”

He didn’t question me because I think he knew it, too. He had his ghosts and I had my demons.

I slid my fingers from his and walked back to the car.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, I saw him standing at the edge of the cemetery looking forlorn, but not alone. Mariama and Shani were on either side of him, their ghosts as intrinsic to him as my loneliness was to me.

BOOK: The Restorer
10.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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