Forty-Four Box Set, Books 1-10 (44) (96 page)

***

It was strange seeing her up close, in real life. Alive.

In the vision, she was usually on the ground, dead or dying, but standing here in front of me I noticed for the first time her height and the twinkle in her eyes. There was a sadness in those eyes that made her look older in the light of day, but there was also a spark, a sign of life. Something that wasn’t there in the visions.

“I only have a few minutes,” she said, letting me inside the apartment. “I forgot I was supposed to meet someone before my class. I’m helping them. Like sort of a tutor. It’s weird, you know. I feel like there’s so many things I don’t know. And here I am trying to help someone else.”

I knew exactly what she meant.

She seemed more relaxed and self-assured than at the soup kitchen. She wasn’t whispering like she had the night before. I looked around the small living room, hoping Logan wasn’t there.

“You know when Logan told me you called and that I had won, I couldn’t believe it,” she said. “I didn’t say anything to him, but what I don’t understand is how I could have won if I didn’t even answer any questions yet. Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thanks,” I said. “I’m fine.”

I needed to gain her trust. I realized that what I was about to tell her required her to believe me. I needed to make a fresh start. I needed to stop lying to her.

She sat across from me in the messy living room. There were piles of clothes on the floor and DVDs and video games scattered on the coffee table. The TV was on in the background. She was watching a talk show and reached over to mute it.

“So,” she said, looking at me.

“So you’re in school?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “Second year. Next year I’ll transfer to OSU.”

“What are you studying?”

“Just the usual,” she said. “I don’t have a major yet but I’m thinking about... Is this part of the survey?”

“Well,” I said. “I, uh, I don’t know exactly how to tell you this, April. So I’m just going to come out with it. You see, there’s no survey and no prize. I’m here to help you. I have something to tell you that you need to listen to.”

She stood up quickly and folded her arms across her chest.

“What do you mean?” she said, a line forming between her eyes. “You’re not one of those religious nuts, are you?”

“Well, I’m sure some people think I’m crazy,” I said, standing up. “But, no, that’s not what this is about.”

“What’s it about then?”

“I’ve had this strange dream, it’s kind of a recurring dream or, uh, vision, I guess you could say…”

I had rehearsed what I would tell her on the drive over, but the words were sticking and not coming out right. I could tell by her expression that I was losing her.

I hated this part, hated it more than actually seeing the ghosts. I wasn’t good at talking to people in the first place, and then having to tell them about visions and ghosts and stuff like that just took things to a whole other level of discomfort.

“I have this very strong feeling that you’re in danger. I’ve seen it in a dream. Over and over again.”

She stared at me for a moment.

“What kind of danger?” she said, her voice distant, her gray energy circling around her strangely.

“Maybe you should sit back down,” I said.
“I don’t want to sit down.”
“Okay, in the dream you, uh, die. Someone kills you. He slashes your throat.”

“I think you better leave,” she said, a cold anger building in her voice.

I had blown it. I had lied to her. And now I was telling her I saw dead people in my dreams. I had really blown it.

I grabbed my bag from the sofa.

“April. This isn’t easy for me,” I said, trying to grasp at something that was beyond my reach. “I don’t mean to scare you. I know how crazy it must sound. But you have to listen to what I’m saying. There’s still time. It’s not too late.”

“You’re wrong,” she said. “It’s very late. You need to leave. Now!”

Adrenaline surged through my body and I felt my face flush as I walked outside. I stepped into the thick fog and heard the door slam behind me.

It never got any easier. I remembered when I first told Mo I saw the ghost of her dead brother. That hadn’t gone over well either. Why didn’t anything ever get easier?

I sat in the Jeep, cold and clueless, bouncing my head onto the top of the steering wheel.

CHAPTER 38

I stood in the snowy alley, standing up against the wall by the theater chairs.

Alone.

There was no body sprawled on the ground, no church bells ringing.

I took in the icy air, feeling the burn in my lungs, staring straight ahead, waiting for April. Waiting for April to die.

I waited for the killer to argue with her, and then draw his knife across her throat. Her body falling to the ground, blood shooting up from the terrible wound.

It was quiet again.

Then suddenly a dark figure appeared at the end of the alley. It faced in my direction and began moving toward me. Alone. I knew she wouldn’t be alone for long. I tried to steady my heartbeat and brace myself for what was to come.

Her hands were red. Or rather she held something red in them. Dark, brilliant red glowing in the night.

She was close now. I looked over her shoulder, waiting for the killer to appear. But then I saw her face, through the snow, in the light. It wasn’t April.

It was the ghost. Just a few feet away, staring at me with those hollow eyes, holding something red.

She stopped right in front of me. Her hair seemed wet, but not from the snow that started falling in ever larger flakes. The cold surrounding her was almost unbearable. She wouldn’t take her eyes off mine. And then she brought her hands to her face and blew the contents into me, scattering them in the air.

Rose petals.

Thousands of them, replacing the snow, falling around us, on us.

Thousands and thousands of red rose petals, as I stood eye to eye with the ghost, inhaling the sweet fragrant smell.

“Save her.”

The rose petals kept falling.

“Save her.”

CHAPTER 39

David called to say he was heading back to Portland. Again.

“Bad news and good news, Abby Craig. I don’t think I got the part. But the producers of the show want to meet with me. They’re being kind of vague, but I get the feeling they’re thinking of another role for me!”

“That’s amazing!” I said.

I heard him moan.

“Hello. It is amazing, right?”

“Of course,” he said. “It’s just that I’m still sore from my ski lesson. My butt feels broken, Abby Craig. I mean it’s black and blue all over. And now with this, I’ll have to break my date with Sven. But this too shall pass. Eyes on the prize.”

“That’s right, eyes on the prize,” I said. “Break a leg. And let me know what happens.”

“Will do, Abby Craig. Will do.”

I had wanted to talk to David about April. But that would have to wait. His plate was full.

Back at Back Street, Mike asked if I could cover one of David’s shifts.

“You got it,” I said, remembering my promise to atone for my earlier lie. “Whatever you need.”

I walked over to the counter and said hello to Lyle. Mo was on the machines.

“Heard you tried to kill your old man,” she said without looking up.

“Huh?” I said, foolishly wondering how she had heard about Ty. “Oh, yeah, something like that.”

Of course, David. If
The Bugler
went under, David could start his own newspaper, call it “The Town Tattler” or “The Bend Blabbermouth.”

It was busy and the time went by quickly. I didn’t mind helping out by covering David’s shift after I finished my own. In fact, I was glad to do it. I owed Mike a lot, especially after I had disappeared during the Clyde fiasco. And before that during my kidnapping. But the timing couldn’t have been worse. It was only a few days before Christmas and I still had an entire menu to shop for. I was still debating a few recipes in my mind. And I was even thinking about inviting one or two additional people.

I still wasn’t quite finished with my Christmas shopping either.

And, of course, there was that little matter of saving April. I had to figure out a way to reach her before it was too late.

I had replayed our conversation pretty much nonstop since I had gone to see her. Trying to think of what I could have said differently to change the outcome. Trying to think of what I could say or do now to make her listen. To get her to believe me.

But I came up with nothing. I could talk to her again, and I would if it came down to it, but I had no reason to hope that she would listen. It was much more likely that she would call the police or sic Logan on me.

I thought about the alley. Even if I couldn’t get her to believe me, maybe I could still do something to save her. Maybe I could be there and change her fate.

But the clues in the vision were vague regarding the timing. Judging from the sign in the wine shop, it was probably before Christmas. It was night, sometime between seven and midnight. It was just starting to snow.

If I had to I could stake out the alley on every snowy evening between now and the 25
^th
between the hours in question. But that seemed time consuming and dangerous. I had to work some of those nights at Back Street or the Community Center. What if it didn’t start snowing until nine and I got there at 9:15? I might be too late. And even if I wasn’t, I didn’t want to confront the killer.

There had to be a better way.

CHAPTER 40

The house was quiet and I walked into the kitchen and sat at the granite counter, thinking.

I knew it was stupid to be nervous. It was a simple phone call. Quick, not a big deal.

But for some reason, it wasn’t as easy as it should have been. I had been procrastinating for a while now. But after talking to Lyle the other day about his jazz biscuit bar, I knew it was time for me to take some action. It was time to go after a dream, even if it both excited and terrified me at the same time.

I liked working at Back Street and knew that I was lucky to have a job there. Especially with the economy the way it was. After helping out at the Community Center, I realized that there were many people desperate to find any kind of job. And I had one. A good one, with a great boss and coworkers.

But Mike had been hinting lately about possibly training me for a managerial position in the future. He now had two cafes open in Bend, with plans for a new store next fall in Sisters. I appreciated his confidence in me, but I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to do. Back Street wasn’t my dream.

I took a deep breath and punched in the number.

“Hello, Culinary School of Central Oregon,” a friendly voice on the other end said. “How can I help you today?”

“Hi,” I said, trying to sound serious. “I was interested in finding out more about your school.”

We talked for a few minutes and the woman told me about the different programs the school offered. There were so many of them, some full time, some part time. There were individual classes specializing in baking and pastry, others focusing on the culinary arts, whatever that was.

“So what do you think you’re looking for?” she asked.

“Well, I want to be a chef,” I said.

“Great,” the woman said. “I have a packet that I can send out to you. If you give me your name and address, I’ll get it out to you today. The pamphlets are pretty detailed and you can take a look at the different programs we offer to help you decide.”

 I gave her my information, thanked her, and said goodbye.

“Wait,” she said. “Did you want to come by sometime and see the new facility? We have group tours available.”

My heart raced.

“Yeah,” I said. “That would be great.”

I signed up for the first Monday in January and hung up the phone, smiling.

CHAPTER 41

“Abby,” he said, opening the door. “Good to see you. Please come in.”

“Hi,” I said, walking in.

I leaned back in the leather chair, not the way I had done when I first came to see Dr. Krowe following my accident, tight-lipped as a nervous clam. I remembered those feelings now, being so lost and sad after I drowned. And that was even before I knew that Jesse was dead.

He still had the same pictures up of his kids, but now there were new ones too. The kids not kids anymore. One shot at a wedding, Dr. Krowe smiling with a young bride.

I was much more at ease with him these days, almost relaxed.

And then I saw it.

“Oh, no,” I said, staring at his cast.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Really.”

“What happened?”

“One guess,” he said, swinging an imaginary racquet. “And just when I felt I had turned a corner. I felt myself getting faster and stronger. I was even ahead in the game. And then I felt something snap.”

“I’m so sorry, Dr. Krowe.”

“Thanks,” he said, running his fingers on the cast. “It just snapped, right above the ankle. I guess it was the universe telling me that I’m too old.”

I shrugged.

“A lot of athletes get injured, Dr. Krowe,” I said. “David Villa on Barcelona broke his leg and was out almost a whole year. But he’s back and doing fine. He’s only 31.”

Honestly, 31 sounded a little old to me but I thought it would make Dr. Krowe feel better.

He nodded.

“Thanks, Abby. That actually helps. Anyway, have you had a chance to think about our phone conversation? I think there’s a chance that your color blindness may be receding. I’ve found two more cases since we spoke where that’s happened and I even tracked down a doctor who studied one of the subjects. I told him about you, anonymously of course. He was very interested and wanted me to ask you if you would go see him. He’s back East, but I think it may be worth it.

“Really?” I said.

“Well, at this point it would only be to study you. He’s strictly in research.”