Chapter Six
Lucas
Lucas stared up at the windows of the Cattleman’s Crossing Inn.
He’d seen it in the years since that night—many times, since its location just off downtown meant he’d often driven past on his way home or seen its façade blur as he rode the fire truck to the scene of an accident. He never wanted to study it, though. Never wanted to peek close to see if something was still off about the place. Instead his eyes always slid past it, pretending like it wasn’t still there.
Now it looked like any other old inn. Almost attractive in its design, it boasted a new coat of paint and a hand-painted sign on the door below the long horn. At occupancy. If he hadn’t seen what he’d seen, he would’ve thought this was exactly the place he wanted to take a woman: charming and a little weird.
Though even then, the more he looked the more something seemed askew about the place. He couldn’t put his finger on what. It was like the place was tilted very slightly on its axis, but when he compared it to the shops on either side, it was perfectly straight.
Did others see this? Maybe Lucas was the one who was off.
Shifting his duffel bag to his other hand, he pushed open the front door. He couldn’t believe what he was about to do for a woman he’d never even kissed, let alone known for barely longer than twenty-four hours. But the idea of letting Laney come here alone with just Adele scared him—scared him even more than entering the place of his childhood nightmares again.
He’d felt a connection with her, and it wasn’t just how hot she’d looked in that red dress. He hadn’t intended to tell her his story at the restaurant, especially since she thought he was nuts, but it’d spilled out nonetheless. He wanted her to know for some reason that had nothing to do with seeing his story on some website. And now he just wanted to see her again.
The heavy wood door creaked open into an empty lobby. A smell of wood and mildew reached his nose, but the place was quiet. As Lucas stepped over the threshold, he found the front desk abandoned.
“Hello…” he called, his voice echoing a little in the space. To his left was the desk, and to the right a closed door. He couldn’t remember where it went. Right in front of him was a broad staircase, the balustrade elegantly curved at the bottom. It was covered in a lush, deep red rug and ascended up to the second floor, spiraling into darkness.
Lucas swallowed. Those steps he remembered. They’d seemed endless as a kid.
What was he doing here?
A rustle came from his right, and he startled as the closed door swung open.
Laney peeked her head out. “Oh, good, you’re here!” She had on a black cotton sundress, and her curly hair was gathered back in a ponytail. She was still too damn attractive.
She waved him forward. “Put down your bag and come to the sitting room. Almost everybody else is here.”
“Everybody else?” He reluctantly dropped his bag by the door—maybe he meant to leave it there as a means of quick getaway—and followed where she disappeared as the door swung shut. As much as he didn’t want to enter into the labyrinths of the inn, he didn’t want to be alone in the lobby either. Wasn’t there anyone working?
He caught the door and swung it back open, catching a glimpse of Laney as she passed through what looked like a small library and out the other side. Nestled between bookshelves, a narrow small fireplace sat on the wall to his left. The smell of wood was stronger here. As Lucas passed rows of built-in bookshelves, he noticed some of the spines of the books looked blackened around the edges, like they were survivors of the fire.
Kindling, Lucas thought before he could help it. We are all kindling.
We?
He jerked at the strange thought, but then he entered a sitting room where Laney turned around and smiled at him.
“Adele, I think you know Lucas.”
His mind was reeling from being here again, from the scents and sights, but he managed a weak smile as the older woman stood from an armchair near the entrance.
Adele Lyons had been in her late 40s when her husband had perished in the Cattleman’s Crossing Fire. Now she stood, considerably older: her brown hair shoulder-length and mostly gray and her face lined—though her smile was genuine. She wore a long, flowy blue skirt and matching blouse, and though she was thin, grief hadn’t diminished her. She stood straight and strong, and her grip as she walked to Lucas and pulled him into a warm embrace was sure.
Lucas knew why. Mrs. Lyons didn’t believe her husband was truly gone, not in a place she couldn’t reach him. That’s why she was here, wasn’t it?
Adele laughed lightly. “You’re not a little boy anymore! Look at you.”
“Hi, Mrs. Lyons.”
“Oh, call me Adele. You’re not nine anymore.” She pulled away, but still held his arms fast. There were tears in her eyes. “It’s good to see you, Lucas.”
“It’s good to see you, too.” Mrs. Lyons had sent him birthday cards each year, little notes with twenty dollar bills inside, like she was his kindly aunt. He hadn’t understood it when he was young, but his parents explained that she was sad because she lost her husband and felt a special connection with Lucas—one who had survived, the last one to see him alive. Maybe the one with answers to where her husband had gone, though she’d never asked.
Would she ask now?
He stepped back and noticed a skinny, floppy-haired teenaged boy standing behind Adele, a huge grin on his face.
The boy stepped forward. “Hey! I’m Tucker Dixon. My parents own this place. I do the front desk.”
“Oh?” Lucas’s eyes drifted to Laney and a shot of anger ran through him. She was allowing a kid to be here? Why hadn’t she told him this?
“It’s so awesome to meet you,” Tucker continued. “The shit you must’ve seen here…man. I’d kill to have experienced what you did.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Lucas said, trying to remain polite but firm. He’d been bothered enough to know that Laney and Mrs. Lyons would be spending the night here alone, but to bring a boy into it? That wasn’t cool at all.
Tucker’s smile barely dimmed. “Yeah, well, hopefully we’ll catch some activity tonight. I brought an electro-magnetic field reader, a motion sensor, a thermometer, and an EVP recorder—that’s electronic voice phenomenon. It’s awesome. I’ve got some walkie talkies so we can communicate if we’re in different rooms, too.”
Adele guided him by the arm to the nearest loveseat. “Sit down, Lucas. You look tired.”
Reluctantly, he sat on the small couch. There on a table beside him sat a coffee pot and plate of cookies, like they were at some social gathering.
Laney joined him on the loveseat, toeing off her sandals and curling her legs beneath her. “Do you mind if I record this?” She pulled her cell out.
They all nodded. Just being there was uncomfortable; he hardly imagined how having an audio record of it could worsen the situation.
Lucas cleared his throat. “You look well, Mrs.—Adele.”
She smiled. “Thank you, Lucas. To be honest, I’ve felt better than I have in years.”
“Oh?”
There came a snick, and Lucas pulse leapt as he caught sight of a flame on the other side of the room.
“Sorry,” Tucker said quickly, as Lucas realized it was just a lighter. The kid was lighting up a cigarette or something.
His heartbeat slowed, but his grip tightened on the arm of the couch.
“Technically no one’s allowed to smoke in here,” Tucker continued. “But, you know”—he inhaled and Lucas realized he was waving around a joint—“I’m in charge, so.” He gave a cocky smile and held it out to Lucas.
He shook his head. “No thanks.”
Tucker shrugged and moved it towards Laney, who said, “No thanks, I’m working.”
Tucker was about to take another drag when Adele reached a hand out. “I believe I could use something to center myself.” She laughed lightly.
She took the joint and inhaled deeply. As she released the smoke slowly through her mouth, she nodded and refocused on him. “You know, Lucas, now that you’re grown, I can tell you. It’s awfully hard to lose your spouse, your partner in life.” Her eyes shone. “Bill was my whole world back when we stayed at this inn 20 years ago. We were on the cusp of early retirement. Did you know that?” She leaned forward to pass the joint back to Tucker, who looked impressed.
Lucas shook his head.
“We were young, just 48, but Bill had made some good investments—he always had a keen mind, especially for figuring out how things worked. He figured out how the stock market worked, and he played it.” She smiled sadly. “We had plans. We’d come here to see friends, but we’d planned within the following year to travel to Europe. Paris, London, maybe Spain.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his gut clenching. Mr. Lyons’s face, hazy in smoke and filled with terror, flashed for a moment in his memory.
“It’s alright.” Adele smoothed down her skirt. “Anyway, I was a very rich woman after he died, but I never did make it to Paris. Instead, I went other places. Places I never dreamed of going. Tiny countries I’d never heard of, small villages cars won’t drive you to. All in search of a way to bring Bill back.”
Lucas cleared his throat and looked down, uncomfortable. When he finally looked up, Adele had the joint in her hand again and was staring at him more intensely than before.
“You see, Lucas, he’s not really gone. Not in any natural way. That’s what those psychics I met told me. He was just taken by that entity that lives on the third floor.”
“Mrs. Lyons,” he began, “I just…” He stopped, unsure what to say to this woman who, despite her vigor, was obviously still not accepting her husband’s death.
But how could he convince her otherwise? That Mr. Lyons was really gone?
He’d seen that thing snatch him.
That thing.
The room had gone still with tension, but then Adele gave a light laugh. “Oh, I realize it sounds completely bonkers! I thought so too, from time to time. I imagine you think I’m a dotty old lady, and maybe I am. But once you meet Mina, you’ll be a believer too.”
“Mina?”
A knock came from the front of the inn.