Facing Evil Page 4

  “I will. I can’t thank you both enough for everything you’ve done here.” Abby gestured at her surroundings.

  “We are just glad to have you back,” Helga said with an adoring smile.

  After a quick but loving hug from each of them, Abby was finally alone. She stood on the deck watching them until they turned onto the trail back to the main lodge, walking hand-in-hand.

  The silence around her seemed deafening as she sat down on the bench on the deck, but soon nature began to talk to her and she felt her body relaxing. Hoping to help it out a little, Abby went back inside and searched for the bottle of Aquavit. Günter had been true to his word and the bottle of nearly pure grain alcohol was where he said it would be. She poured herself a small cup of the golden amber, and then sat down on the sofa.

  “Now what?” she asked herself as she took a long drink of the potent alcohol. It was a question she didn’t have an answer for. Looking around the empty cabin, Abby wondered if she would still have her mind in six months.

  The fire crackled, its flame drawing her stare hypnotically. Feeling the warmth of the alcohol in her system, Abby leaned back and closed her eyes. Her life had been running at top speed for so long, the sudden change of pace was almost more than she could handle. Restless and irritated, the detective paced the small log cabin. She moved back and forth, her long legs striding in no one direction as she continuously sipped at her glass of Aquavit. Soon the sun disappeared, taking with it the outside light. Abby’s world began to change. The log walls closed in and the silence screamed as visions and memories cried out in her mind.

  She opened the double doors leading out onto her deck, hoping the cool night air would refresh her thoughts, but it was no use. Pouring another glass of Aquavit, Abby laid her tired body down on the lounge chair on the deck. Sometime in the night, as the embers glowed red amidst the ashes of the fire, Abby’s empty glass slid silently from her hand as she passed into a world of no pain.

  Chapter 4

  The loud chirping of morning birds crashed through her alcohol-induced fog. Abby squinted and blinked hard as she tried to recall where she was. One look at the mirrored surface of Lake Alouette, and all the realities of her life flooded back to her. She pulled herself up into a sitting position and closed her eyes with a deep groan, only to open them again when she heard the steady thumping of Buck’s tail.

  “What are you so happy about?” she asked as Buck leaned forward and licked the side of her face.

  “Stop it. What’s your— Oh, my God! I forgot to feed you. I’m sorry. I bet you’re hungry.” The large dog replied with a small howl.

  “All right, all right. Give me a sec, will ya?”

  After she fed her dog, Abby went to the coffee maker, filled it with water, and heaped the dark coffee into a filter. Impatiently she stood over the carafe and waited.

  “Hello?” a voice in the distance called out.

  “Come on in, Günter,” she offered gently through her hangover.

  “Good morning. You sleep good, ja?” The tall white-haired Scandinavian carried in a small bar fridge. Stopping to look Abby in the eye, Günter’s expression told her she wasn’t fooling anyone. “You know, grains are good for breakfast, but not the liquid kind.”

  Abby heard the care and concern in his voice, and held her tongue.

  “You are all grown up now, Abby, and you have had your share of things to deal with—”

  “I’m a big girl, Günter.”

  “Ja, you are, so I don’t have to tell you — alcohol will only mask the problem and then it will make it bigger.” He watched her for a moment, deciding what to say. “Abby, you have time on your hands and that can be a good thing or a bad thing. You need to look and see what is around here. It is yours to take when you decide to take it. You have seen so much for one so young, Abigail, but there is a lot of life left in you, life to live.”

  Standing on the threshold of the front doors, Abby listened to Günter’s words as she sipped her coffee and looked over the beautiful view. She heard him approach her from behind and said nothing as he placed a hand on her shoulder. She turned and offered a small smile and Günter knew she had no response for him.

  “Helga will be looking for you for lunch,” he said as he made his way across the deck and down the stairs.

  “Tell her not to wait, I won’t be there.”

  Abby didn’t see the look of disappointment on his face as she turned back into her cabin. She hadn’t meant to be rude or disrespectful, but she hadn’t come here to be lectured to or doted on by either one of them.

  By mid-morning Abby had pulled out a puzzle and left its pieces scattered on the table. She had started a novel, though read only the first few pages. She had pulled out her fishing gear, but left it leaning against the wall next to the fireplace. Finally, after a fitful morning, Abby decided maybe a nap would do her good, but then again, maybe not. Sleeping was something she didn’t look forward to. It left her mind open and vulnerable to nightmares, taking her down dark and shadowy paths, far from the comforting dreams others found in their sleep.

  Abby’s nightmares concerned murdered girls who had been raped and tortured. Beautiful young girls, who had been cut and carved on while they were still alive, silenced by the dieffenbachia paste coating their vocal cords. Abby saw them whenever she closed her eyes, each one of them — before, during, and after their murders. She knew their names, their birth dates, and in maddening detail, their brutal deaths. Their silent screams begging for someone to help them. They would pull at her, their out stretched bloody hands grabbing at her arms, scratching and tearing at her. Their voices cried out her name, pleading for someone to stop their pain as a long, thin knife cut deep into their flesh.

  Abby could hear the sound of the blade as it carved down to the bone. She could see the gloved fingers around the handle tightening to cut down harder. Then came the laughter, his deep demented laughter. And he was laughing at her. Billy Ward’s face came out of the shadows, laughing and taunting her as his knife continued to cut away at the flesh of the young girls.

  “You can’t help them, Abby.” He brought up his knife and drove it into Abby’s breast. “You can’t! You can’t! You can’t!” With each chant, Billy brought out the knife and plunged it in again. “You can’t save them and you can’t stop me.”

  Abby dove at him, her hands aimed at his throat.

  The flash of fire in her fist immediately awoke her from her nightmare. A thin sheen of sweat glistened over her muscular body, matting her hair to her face and forehead. Her breath came in gulps as she looked at her right hand and the dots of blood cracking through the scabs around her stitches.

  Going into the bathroom, Abby ran cold water over her hand then mopped her face with a towel. She looked into the mirror at her own reflection; there was guilt in her eyes and in her features, darkening her soul. Shaking the excess water off of her hand, she left the bathroom and headed for the bottle of Aquavit. She quickly tossed the first splash into the glass and down her throat. After pouring another, she put the cap back on the bottle and walked outside. Standing on the edge of the deck, her gaze fell on the waters of Lake Alouette. Draining her second drink, she went back inside to pour another and to fetch herself a cold beer from the fridge.

  “Come on, Buck.” The big Husky followed her onto the dock. Carefully, she juggled the bottle and the glass until she made it out to the bench near the end. Stretching out her long legs, she sat and looked over the lake. While she sipped at the potent alcohol, she watched a few people out on the water in their canoes. A flock of ducks flew overhead and loudly made their descent to the water, causing Buck’s head to tilt back and forth as he watched their progress.

  The slow afternoon mixed with the power of the Aquavit, and soon Abby found herself lying on the dock in a warm, relaxed stupor. The sun was slowly making its way toward the rugged mountain tops, but she paid it no mind. Lying on her back, with her knees up and her eyes closed, Abby placed her empty glass
on the wooden dock. Feeling around with her right hand, she reached for her beer. It was warm now, but she was too comfortable to go get a cold one.

  Picking up the bottle with her only two working fingers, Abby placed it on her stomach. When she reached with her left hand to hold it, her heavy fiberglass cast clinked against the glass. She opened one eye and looked at the bottle. The cast on her hand made it impossible for her to grasp the slick glass. Realizing the problem, she switched hands and held the bottle with her right as she attempted to open it with her left, but there weren’t enough of her fingers protruding for her to touch the bottle cap, never mind grasp it. Abby lifted her head and glared at the bottle.

  “Well, this is annoying,” she said as she sat up and placed the bottle between her knees. Whatever she had done to her knuckles in the throes of her nightmare had made them swell, and the tightness of the stitches in her right hand made it impossible for her to get hold of the cap. Her growing anger and frustration quickly began to erode the warmth and relaxation she had found in the sun. She had no idea how long she battled the bottle, but as she lifted it to her teeth, she noticed Buck was looking behind her. With the beer bottle cap between her teeth, Abby turned to see a beautiful red-haired woman walking down her dock.

  “Please, don’t do that,” the woman said politely, motioning toward the bottle in Abby’s mouth.

  The detective froze. With the sinking sun behind her, the woman looked radiant, if not angelic. Abby was speechless as she sat and stared. The beautiful stranger stood on the dock with two bottles of beer in one hand and an opener in the other.

  “I come with an opener.”

  The smile that brightened the young fresh face caused Abby’s heart to skip a beat.

  The woman motioned toward Buck. “Please tell me he’s friendly.”

  “Huh?” was all the detective could muster.

  “Your dog. Is he friendly? That mountain of hair is a dog, isn’t it?

  “Huh? Oh, yes. Buck...leave it,” Abby commanded. The Husky’s shoulders relaxed, though he kept an attentive eye on the stranger.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude, but I couldn’t help noticing your predicament.” The woman turned and pointed her bottle opener at the cabin next to Abby’s. “I could see...we’re neighbors...I wasn’t being nosy or anything... Well, maybe just a little. I mean, I’m not normally a nosy person, but with all the activity around your cabin the last couple days…both Helga and Günter were cleaning up around the place...not that the place was messy or anything. I mean, they keep all of the cabins and the resort so neat and all...well, I was wondering if it was someone famous coming in...”

  Abby listened to her neighbor’s nervous ramblings, her own dark eyebrows knitting in question and confusion. Suddenly, the woman realized she was doing all the talking and she stopped, an embarrassed flush on her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to intrude. If you’d rather I left...” her cheeks reddened further.

  “Huh? What? No — I — ah — no. Please...” Abby finally regained her manners and motioned for the woman to sit. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude; it’s just that I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

  “If you would rather be alone, I understand. I mean, a lot of people come up here for time alone. You know — to relax and get back to nature and all. Well, if that’s what you want, I’ll just open your beer... Actually, have one of mine. It will at least be colder than yours. I’ll just open this up for you and then...” Putting one of her beer bottles down, she flipped off the cap of the other with an ease that made Abby smile.

  “You know, that’s not as easy as you would think.” Abby took the offered beer. “Please, don’t go.”

  The woman hesitated as if deciding whether to accept the invitation, but then sat down. “My name is Sarah,” she said with an easy smile.

  “Abby. Thanks.” She took a long drink, while watching Sarah drink from her own beer, and then wiped her lips with the back of her hand. Abby’s gaze drifted over Sarah’s face. Her eyes were alive and alert as they looked down at Abby’s hands. A beautiful face on such a young woman, a young innocent woman — very much like those in Abby’s nightmares, the ones calling out for justice against the evil—

  “So, what’s the other guy look like?”

  Sarah’s question pulled Abby away from the grisly path down which her mind was heading.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Abby snapped. She hadn’t meant for her tone to be so harsh, but the question caught her off guard.

  “I’m sorry. I just meant...I didn’t intend to insinuate anything. I just wondered what happened to your hands. But it’s none of my business.”

  Abby silently cursed herself for responding like a cop with an attitude, “No, it should be me apologizing. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just that...well, it’s a subject I’d rather not discuss... Sorry.”

  Feeling more than a little uncomfortable, both smiled politely before looking away and taking long, silent pulls from their beers.

  Peeking out of the corner of her eye, Sarah was more than a little impressed with the woman next to her. Her dark hair and her dark eyes contrasted with the white teeth displayed in that brief smile. Sarah had watched her arrival with interest and curiosity, and when she had emerged from her cabin, Sarah had been mesmerized by her long easy strides as she walked out on to the dock, her large dog by her side. As she watched Abby struggle to open her beer, Sarah knew this was a woman she wanted to meet. Now, sitting so close to her, she could almost feel her internal energy, like a fire smoldering on the brink of igniting. Lost in her thoughts, Sarah looked down at Abby’s fingers as they picked at the label of her beer bottle.

  Sensing Sarah’s eyes on her, Abby turned to meet her gaze. “So, is this your first time?” the detective blurted out.

  Sarah was startled by the question. “Pardon?”

  “Is this your first time here at Gold Creek?” Abby felt the thickness of the alcohol in her tongue, but she knew it was the attention of a pretty young woman causing her communication difficulties.

  “Ah, yes, yes it is. Though you probably wouldn’t expect it, I enjoy the country; I’m not much of a city girl, actually. It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?”

  “Mmmm hmmm.” Abby took another drink of her beer. “This was nice of you. Günter brought me a fridge this morning, but I didn’t want to go back into the cabin to get a cold one.”

  “You obviously know them well…Günter and Helga, I mean, for them to fuss over your cabin and your arrival like that.”

  “Yeah, very well,” Abby offered a little tersely.

  “So this isn’t your first time, I take it?”

  “Not hardly,” Abby found herself struggling to maintain a pleasant conversational exchange. She was too used to being the one asking the probing questions. Has it been so long since I’ve talked to another woman on a purely personal basis that I can’t even be civil?

  “Well, it sure is nice here. I just arrived myself. I didn’t know there was fishing here or I would have brought my gear,” Sarah said as she looked out over the still lake.

  “Günter has equipment you can rent,” Abby offered. “Or there’s a small gas station with a store about four miles down the road — Flanagan’s; they have equipment.”

  “I was going to make a call today, but believe it or not there are no public phones to be found. Can you imagine that in this day and age? And my cell phone is totally useless up here.”

  “Helga’s got her phone, but other than that, the only phone is at Flanagan’s.”

  “I brought up my laptop, though I guess the Internet is out of the question,” Sarah said with a chuckle and a smile. “It’s like turning back the hands of time, coming up here.”

  “Yeah, that’s part of its charm.”

  “So you’re here for the week?” Sarah’s question was innocent enough, but she saw a dark shadow flicker on Abby’s face.

  “I wish.” The detective’s eyes scanned the
distant mountain, as if looking for an answer. “I’ve got some time to kill, so I’ll be here for a few months,” she said bitterly.

  “Wow, a few months. Don’t you work?”

  “Yes, I work.”

  If Sarah heard the animosity, she chose to ignore it. “What do you do?”

  Abby paused for a brief moment. “I...ah, I work for the city.” She didn’t see the skepticism on Sarah’s face as she changed the subject. “So, where are you from, Sarah?”

  “Me? The East Coast originally.”

  “And now?”

  “My suitcase.” Sarah laughed at her own answer, but Abby remained solemn.

  “Why’s that?” Abby was unaware her tone was changing and her questions were starting to sound like an interrogation.

  “I move around a lot.”

  “Why?”

  “I guess I have a natural curiosity — for beautiful things.”

  “Really? You just go wherever you want?”

  “Not always. Sometimes someone or something has to guide me.” She paused, feeling a little uneasy with her answer. “Or sometimes I just go wherever the winds take me.”

  “And why did the wind bring you here?”

  “I had a...ah, calling, a friend actually. She recommended the place,” Sarah said with a smile, hoping to lighten the darkening mood. “She said that I’d like the view here.”

  “And do you?” Abby’s questions kept coming and she missed the flirtations from the friendly little redhead. Her bitterness at being away from work, mixed with all the alcohol she had consumed in the last twenty-four hours, brought out an ugliness in her.

  “Do I?” She pulled on her bottom lip and then looked away from the darkness in Abby’s eyes. “Yeah, I think the view is breathtaking.” Sarah threw out the line, but came up empty as Abby continued to fire off questions.

  “What is it that you do for a living?” The interrogating tone of the question was unmistakable, though Abby showed no signs of realizing it.

  “I, ah, I work for myself,” Sarah said vaguely, more than a little taken aback by the apparent cross-examination to which she was being subjected.