Chapter 26

Terri woke up the next day and stretched luxuriously. It had been months since she had woken up naturally without the aid of an alarm clock. She was so warm in the bed and didn’t want to get up. The sun shone down through her bedroom window and cast its light upon the floor, but she knew better than to trust it. The hardwood floor was going to be cold. She grabbed her robe and flung it around herself and found her slippers near her bed. Her hair was a mess, but she didn’t care. She wanted coffee and a cigarette. She loved the fact that Hayden had found his own place even though she missed him at the office. His work had been exemplary, but the circumstances surrounding his departure would have destroyed him or turned him into something he never was. She was grateful to God or whoever was responsible for his finding a place to call his own.

She remembered the last time he was in the courtroom. Confronting the family responsible for the planning and execution of Malcolm. It was so profound to Terri who had prosecuted the case. In all the years she had worked in public service, that had been her defining moment: to take a stand for the young man who had brought so much passion to his job. He had a way with people and a way to get the job done.

Something died inside of Hayden when Malcolm died. Terri saw that, the fire that he’d seemed to carry inside his belly was extinguished. His retirement from the office was the smartest thing he could do. Malcolm had ensured that all his assets went to Hayden, and to Terri, buying this house was a smart move. She cared a lot about the kid, and was glad that he’d found stability. Yet she was worried that he would cling on to Malcolm for the rest of his days. They were in love and their life had just started.

She made a quick pit stop to the bathroom to brush her teeth and run a comb through her hair, then made her way down the stairs. Her fear for Hayden was relieved when she turned the corner to the living room and saw Hayden and Tommy both asleep on the couch. She stood there for a minute, her head leaning on the archway, her arms folded under her breasts. She smiled briefly, decided to give them their privacy, and headed into the kitchen to make some coffee.

She clunked around the kitchen and put the pot on; when it was ready, she poured herself a cup and grabbed her cigarettes off the counter to head out the side door to the patio chairs on the porch. It was a beautiful and chilly morning. She propped her feet up and lit the end of a Marlboro Light, inhaling deeply and slowly exhaling the smoke. She took a sip of her coffee and looked at the grounds before her. The sun bounced off the lake and the birds chirped in the trees. There was a slight breeze that pushed against her, but it wasn’t too cold—just cool enough for to pull her robe closer to her. The fresh air was nice, so was the quiet. She hadn’t been sure she’d sleep without the ambient noises of Boston.

Inside, she heard the boys stirring, and waited for them to join her. Even though she was a little frightened by his intensity, she liked Tommy. He was a good guy. Strong, large, handsome—not classically beautiful as Malcolm had been. His features were more rugged. But last night during dinner, she was happy to see how attentive Tommy was to Hayden, how he looked over at him when he spoke and actively listened to what Hayden had to say. It seems as if they were starting on a journey together, and Terri wished all the best for them.

* * * * * * * *

They both had awakened to the sound of Amanda and Terri up and moving around, and Hayden sat up quickly, wiping the sweat from his face.

“Good morning,” Tommy said, a slight smile on his face. “How did you sleep?”

Hayden looked down at him, still sprawled on his back, arm behind his head. His face was stubbly, and Hayden resisted the urge to rub his hand over it. He listened for the sound of Amanda going outside and lay back down. Tommy wrapped his arms around him, and he closed his eyes for a second more.

“I slept amazing, thank you,” he whispered, and he had. Sometime during the night, Tommy must have gotten up to pee or something, but then he came right back and got back on the couch with him. The sound of Tommy’s heartbeat had sent him back into a deep, and from what he remembered, dreamless sleep. The best he’d had in…well…

Tommy rubbed Hayden’s back, letting him have a few more minutes, and closed his eyes, enjoyed the feeling as much as Hayden. He couldn’t help himself. This felt good, and Hayden was so warm. His mind drifted back to the dream he’d had last night, and he wrapped his arms tight around Hayden once more. “I guess we need to get started today,” he said.

Hayden reluctantly nodded and sat up.

* * * * * * * *

The door opened, and Terri turned her head to see Amanda in sweats and thick socks. Amanda was her second-in-command now that Hayden was gone, and she was another incredible lawyer with an insane ability to close cases, and close them fast. She and Hayden had been close over the years; Amanda had assisted during the prosecution of the Cassone family member and the shooter.

“Did you see what I saw?” Amanda asked, a grin on her face. She nearly skipped to the table and Terri laughed.

“I sure did. Are they up now?” she asked, taking another drag of her cigarette.

“Yeah. Tommy spotted me coming down the stairs and I winked as I walked past him. He was rousing Hayden as I came in. Thanks for making coffee, by the way.” Amanda took a drink of her own. She was still into fancy creamers and sugar in her coffee. She hadn’t converted to plain black coffee just yet, but Terri kept holding out for it to happen.

“How do you think Hayden is doing?” Terri asked, wanting Amanda’s opinion.

“He looks like he’s doing good. I mean, this house is gorgeous! I think Malcolm would have been proud. Look—it even has a pier that goes out into the lake, with a boathouse!” Amanda pointed.

Terri sat up and turned slightly to see. “Yeah, I think Malcolm would be happy about it. What do you think about Tommy?”

“I like him. He’s huge and intimidating, but I don’t think anything bad could happen to our Hayden with him around. He’s kind of scary.” Both women laughed.

The door opened once again, and Hayden and Tommy walked out. Hayden, wearing the same clothes from the night before, was also wearing a jacket and a pair of socks on his bare feet. His hair was standing up all over the place. Amanda and Terri exchanged looks.

“Who wants donuts?” Tommy asked, truck keys in hand.

“Oh, me!” Amanda said, raising her hand. “I like the cream-filled ones, please.”

Hayden reached for Terri’s cigarettes and lit one himself, taking a seat at the patio with his cup of coffee. He looked at Tommy. “That would be great, thank you.”

“Great! I’ll be back. Then I figure we can get started. Oh, yeah, is anyone allergic to anything? You know…food wise?” He took a few steps down and turned to look back. All of them replied that no they didn’t, and Tommy nodded and went on his way.

They watched him go, and Amanda nearly made Hayden choke on his coffee when she commented, “He has an amazing ass.”

As soon as the truck backed down the driveway and out of sight, the two women turned on him.

“This is just as new to me as it is to you. I…me…we…aw shit. Give me another cigarette, huh?” Hayden rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

Terri tossed him the pack. He never bought cigarettes on his own, only smoked other people’s. It used to annoy her, but these days, she found it to be one of his most endearing qualities.

“He’s going to be staying with us for the weekend,” Hayden said. “Apparently, there have been a few deaths in the area and…well, he’s worried about you two.” He leaned back in his chair.

“Does he ever make it to Boston?” Amanda asked sarcastically.

“I think that’s sweet,” Terri said, the caffeine humming in her veins. “I also think he’s full of shit. If he’s worried at all, he’s worried about us and you, my darling.”

Hayden lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply, sitting back, and exhaling the smoke into the morning air. He had slept on Tommy most of the night and could almost kick himself for not getting up and climbing into bed. He appreciated that Tommy made no moves to go further than what would be appropriate at this stage in their…well, wherever they were right now. He hated to admit it, but he hadn’t wanted to get up off the couch.

Now, as he sat with Terri and Amanda, enjoying the morning and letting the coffee infiltrate their bloodstream, they made plans to start the day. They would start off with the living room first and would work their way back. A lot needed to be done, and Tommy was going to stop by the hardware store in town to pick up what he needed for repairs.

While Hayden talked, Amanda looked out at the scenic view of the mountains behind the lake. She felt much the same as Terri; Hayden had been an amazing lawyer, and she missed seeing him every day, but that was another life, another time. He was laying the foundation to start another life, to give it another shot. Amanda couldn’t think of anywhere else in the world it ought to be done. At work, Hayden had been a force of nature, fair, compassionate, and hard working. His performances before a judge and jury were heartfelt and something to witness, and he rarely lost a case. The loss of Malcolm had taken his confidence, his passion, and Amanda had worried it would take more than that if he hadn’t gotten away from Boston. She missed her friend, her teammate on the job, but was glad she had the opportunity to be here with him now. They wandered back inside to get to work.

* * * * * * * *

At eight a.m., right on schedule, Paul’s crew appeared on the doorstep. Mr. And Mrs. Hatch welcomed the newcomers warmly and had a terrific breakfast spread out for them. Paul was up early to greet his crew and shook hands with David first, as they went back a little further, before David introduced him to the other two. Tara Weaver was a southern girl from Texas. She had tanned skin and the whitest smile Paul had ever seen. Around her neck was a Nikon Camera over a plaid pearl-snapped button-down. Her long brown hair was tied up in a ponytail, and her cowboy boots clicked under her feet. Her handshake was firm and no-nonsense, and she regarded the bed-and-breakfast with enthusiasm.

Next was Robert Todd, a tall lanky man with curly blond hair and a handsome face. Paul put him at no more than twenty-five, with his thin wire-framed glasses perched on the end of his nose and perfect smile. He looked like a high school jock trying to play nerd for Halloween.

David Michaels was certainly the eldest of the group under Paul. At thirty-five, David was graying prematurely but was still in good shape. Paul had met David at a conference in Hawaii about five years ago and they had kept in touch. When Paul inquired about the USGS sending out a volcanologist to help, David replied that he had nothing much better to do and that Mike had explained to him about the lake being formed by accident. He was intrigued. Paul was glad to have him.

They ate in silence and Mrs. Hatch, David, and Paul all watched in wonder as the two younger people ate with vigor. Paul remembered the days of being starving college students who consumed everything in sight. As they ate, Paul asked Mrs. Hatch to go over the legend that she had told him last night. They all listened, fascinated by the story, and asked questions about this and that.

Paul dreaded talking to them about the rest of it. They were eager scientists, ready to practice in their field, both graduate students en route to their PhDs. He worried about their reputations as well as his own—it was a case of “publish or perish”—but the situation called for experts and both had come highly recommended.

When Mrs. Hatch finished her story, Paul decided to open with the facts and tell how it may relate to what was going on in the town. Tara was the first to inquire about what it was they would be doing. David and Robert sat in silence for the answer.

“Well, I know this is highly irregular and I sympathize with you on that. First, let me say, that if any of you wish to not be a part of this, it will not in any way, reflect negatively on you. Now, what we are going to do, is consider everything that was said here as if it were established fact, including the story that Mrs. Hatch told you. Because of the nature of the situation, instead of trying to test the untestable, we are going to seek to debunk it, so to speak.”

Robert snorted. “Is the Sci-Fi Channel going to meet us out on the lake like in Ghost Hunters?”

Paul shook his head. He didn’t know what Ghost Hunters was, but he was pretty sure that Robert was mocking the situation. “There will be no cameras except our own, which we will use to document the entire investigation.”

“So, you mean to tell me we are actually investigating a curse?” Tara asked.

“How long has this been going on?” David interjected.

Paul turned to him and thankfully saw curiosity written across his face. “About two weeks. Now, it could be there’s nothing to it. It could be some whack job killing these people, in which case, the police will handle the matter. Should it not be—should it be something more supernatural, for lack of a better term—then I think we may be onto a big find.”

“You know,” Tara said, “there was an incident like this down in Louisiana a few years ago. Not a haunting, mind you, but a case where a lake was sucked down into a mine. There was a big company searching for oil on this lake, and they accidentally drilled down into a salt mine. The vacuum literally pulled the lake down causing a whirlpool. I’ve seen the footage, it was incredible.”

Robert considered that. “Then what you’re saying is the opposite happened. A mine exploded, caused by the curse, which in turn caused the mine to flood and fill up with water. And a town was pulled down in the process?”

“Yes, forty or so people died. Including the lady whom the lake was named after,” Paul said.

Tara looked at Robert. “It would be an interesting find. I would love to be able to take pictures of the artifacts as well. Perhaps some things are intact. Could you imagine?” she said, becoming excited.

Paul relaxed a little, glad to have the young woman on board. Robert finally nodded, and David said he couldn’t wait to get out there.

“Mrs. Hatch, do you mind if we use this place for our operations base?”

“No not at all. Breakfast will be served promptly at eight thirty every morning, followed by lunch at noon. If none of you are planning on being here then I can have it packed to take with you, and dinner will be served at seven. If there is anything else you need, please let me know.” She was pleased Paul was able to convince them to stay.

Paul nodded. “All right. Now that we’re fed, let’s move all your things inside and set up. I need to get hold of someone with a boat. Also, we have another person who will be joining us. Her name is Michelle Camden. She is the town librarian who will be helping me with researching the journals left behind.”

“Preferably one with a depth finder,” Tara suggested.

Paul agreed.

“Sounds like a plan,” Robert said, and they all got up and got to work, Mrs. Hatch included. Paul called Michelle, who answered after the first ring, and asked her if she could come to the B&B and meet the crew. She agreed, as Cassandra had the kids the entire weekend, and told him she would be over shortly with the journals. He was thrilled she was coming; a familiar voice and someone else who sort of knew the situation was going to be here. Besides, all he’d kept seeing last night in his dreams was her pretty face.

* * * * * * * *

Jake’s nightmares had been horrible. His dreams kept reenacting Jessica’s death in the most disturbing ways. It was like he was in the vehicle with her. Her screams of desperation, her fighting her assailants, the holding her underwater, and her final struggles ceasing, made Jake think he was losing his mind. He screamed and screamed at Jessica to get away, but she couldn’t hear him.

His parents woke up to him screaming and rushed in to see if he was being attacked again. They knew something more than nightmares was plaguing their son, but they were at a loss of what to do about it.

Right before they’d left the diner last night, Suzie had come up to Audrey and given her a phone number. “I think he may be able to help Jake. You should give him a call.” She handed her a receipt with the name “Paul” scrawled in large handwriting. Underneath the name was a Boston number. Before Audrey could ask, Suzie had taken Jake’s hand and said, “Be good to yourself sweetie. What happened was not your fault,” and then went back to her duties.

They’d walked out into the cool night air and driven home. On the way, Audrey had stopped at the twenty-four-hour Rite Aid pharmacy and picked up her refill on her Xanax. Her doctor had prescribed it to her about four years ago, right after the divorce, and she only took it on occasion. But her son needed to sleep, and until she could get him in to see her doctor on Monday, she needed him to be as relaxed as possible. She hated the thought of drugging him, but without the medication he wouldn’t sleep.

Daniel had taken the guest room in the old house that had belonged to them both during their marriage. It was strange for him being back there again, where everything felt so familiar. The carpet, the paint on the walls, the pictures that hung on them—all these things Daniel could recall from memory. Sure, some work needed to be done and he couldn’t help but make mental notes, but he knew it was no longer his place to do it.

The divorce had been bitter, Daniel had contested it hoping that Audrey would come to her senses. Before the court battle broke them both, he went ahead and signed on the dotted line and moved away. He had been very brokenhearted, and at a total loss, he threw himself into his work. They’d known Audrey’s pregnancy was high risk, had been told by the doctors the same thing, and when she lost the baby, she lost a part of herself. Somehow, she’d gotten it into her head that he’d been responsible for the death of the child. Two therapists and a marriage counselor later, they were standing before a judge finalizing their divorce papers. Jake had been at a total loss for what to do, so he just stayed at school or with friends during that period.

As he’d lain back on the sheets, sleep creeping in at the edges, Daniel had thought about the day, about what they had all experienced together, the strangeness of it all, and about his son and what legal troubles would come out of the whole Jessica ordeal. He knew two things for certain: he now believed in ghosts, and his son was in no way responsible for that woman’s death.

Soon after, Jake’s screams had torn through the house, and Daniel had jumped up and run as fast as he could to his son’s old bedroom. Audrey had beat him there but only by a step or two. Remembering what had transpired earlier, she’d brought a golf club instead of a baseball bat this time, but it was unneeded. Their son was just suffering trauma from what he had been through; they’d found him alone, twisted up inside his sheets and fighting to get free.

After they’d settled him down, both decided it would be wiser to sleep closer to his room than where they had planned. Grabbing their blankets and pillows, they’d stretched out in the living room, jumping up every now and then to tend to their son’s nightmares.

This morning, Audrey felt like she was hungover as she took out the receipt Suzie had given her and hesitantly dialed the number. The phone rang three times before Paul answered. He sounded harried and there was a lot of talking in the background.

“Paul Spencer.”

“Uh…hi, Paul, I’m Audrey Owen, Jake Owen’s mother. He was the boyfriend of—” she started but he interrupted her.

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Owen, how can I help you?” She heard a door shut and figured he had gone to seek privacy away from the din.

“I’m sorry to be calling you like this, but my son, is, well…we had some really strange things happen to us yesterday. Suzie, the waitress at the Maple Leaf, gave us your number and said you may be able to help?”

Daniel stared at her from across the kitchen, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.

“As a matter of fact, I just got off the phone with Suzie. She said she’d given you my number. My crew and I have just finished setting up our equipment and we would love to have you down. Is Jake all right?”

“Well, that’s just the problem. I don’t know if he is or not. Paul, what is it that you do, exactly?”

“I am a geologist with USGS, but this is a different kind of assignment. So, whatever it is you have to say, trust me, I will listen. Can you meet me at Mable Lee’s Bed-and-Breakfast?” Paul asked.

“Yes. What time will be good for you?” Audrey asked, giving Daniel a thumbs-up.

“Noon would be great. Everyone will be here. See you then.” Paul hung up.

“Should we take Jake?” Daniel asked, taking a drink of his coffee.

“Take me where?” Jake walked into the room, his sweatpants hiked up on one leg, his shirt disheveled. He looked better, though, like he had slept through the night. Audrey and Daniel were both exhausted, but their concern for their son and his welfare took precedent.

“We have found someone for you to talk to. I think it’s a good idea. We’re meeting him at noon so go on and get dressed,” she instructed. Jake nodded and wandered off with Daniel grinning after him, His mother hadn’t lost her touch.

Jake walked down the hall into the bathroom where he turned on the shower. He felt a little dazed, and very tired. The medicine his mom had given him to sleep seemed to linger and made his head fuzzy. As he undressed and stepped into the shower, pulling the glass sliding door shut behind him, he let the hot water run down his body and felt it shove the weariness of the past few days away. The steam rolled out of the stall and filled the bathroom, fogging the glass door. As he turned around to rinse his back, he noticed someone standing in the bathroom.

“Dad? Is that you?” he asked, wiping the water out of his face. The figure didn’t move, it didn’t answer. It just stood there. He lifted a hand and wiped the fog away. It wasn’t his father; it was Jessica. Her dead face, blue, her eyes lifeless, was nearly pressed against the glass. She raised her hands and put them on the shower stall door as Jake began to scream.

The water coming out of the showerhead was no longer the clear, clean, chlorinated tap water that all houses receive. Instead, it was green and murky, filling up the tub at his feet. In his panic, he reached for the handle of the shower door, but it wouldn’t budge. The showerhead itself exploded, the force of the water coming out dislodging it from the pipe that supported it. Now the water was flowing into the tub in torrents. He pounded on the glass and screamed for his parents.

Down the hall, his father came rushing in through the back door with Audrey hot on his heels. They had been out in the backyard talking when they heard him the first time. They reached the bathroom and his father tried the door; it was locked. Daniel pounded on it. “Jake! Open the door! Jake!”

“I can’t! The shower is filling up with water! HELP ME! Daddy, please!” Jake cried.

Daniel heard the desperation in his son’s voice and instantaneously knew two things. His son hadn’t called him daddy since he was a little boy, and that he was terrified beyond all measure.

“Back up, Audrey!” Daniel said, shoving his wife away. He rammed the door hard with his shoulder and felt the doorframe crack, but still the door didn’t budge. He backed up further and slammed into it one more time, taking the door completely off its hinges. With the force of the blow, he sent the door and himself falling into the bathroom. As he hit the floor, the wind was knocked out of him. Audrey, who was behind him, screamed at what she saw.

In the shower was her son, pounding on the glass, underwater. His naked body floated in the green and murky aquatic nightmare. She reached for the vase of flowers on the sink; the lead crystal had been a gift from Daniel, who was back on his feet now. He took the vase from her and, with all his might, threw it at glass door. Both were tossed backwards as the resulting tsunami flooded the room, their son sprawling on his stomach, cut up, shaking, but alive.

“Jake?” Daniel was the first to reach for him. Trudging through water and broken glass, he turned him over to find Jake’s eyes tight shut. He was sobbing.

“Audrey! Bring me a towel and some clothes. We need to get him out of here! Audrey!” His wife had collapsed against the hallway wall, her eyes huge and her hand over her mouth. She wasn’t staring into the bathroom anymore, something else had her attention.

“Audrey what is it?” Daniel asked, standing up. He grabbed a towel from the rack and handed it to Jake who was shakily getting to his feet. Daniel rounded the corner and saw the man standing there, his limp black hair falling down his shoulders, his pale face made paler by the dark eyes that watched them both.

“You have to fight back. You have to save your son. She’s powerful but so are you. She’ll be back,” the man said before he vanished from view.

Daniel swung his eyes back on Audrey. “Clothes, now!” She darted down the hallway to her son’s old bedroom.

* * * * * * * *

Rose Demeter was working her half-day. Saturdays were always slow, and she used the time to straighten up the mail room. One would be surprised at how nasty these places could be, so she always swept and mopped it after she was done distributing the mail. Today was no different. The front counter was empty and today and she found herself filling the bucket with Pine Sol and hot water.

As she swept the floor, she thought about Judy and how she had taken up with that man in the Woodbridges’ old house. It pissed her off, she admitted to herself. She never liked those homosexuals with their fancy cars and nice clothes. They always came to Vermont for vacation, and now that marriage was legal in the state, they came in droves. Like cockroaches, they could be seen everywhere hugging and kissing each other. It disgusted her.

She angrily swept the back room, pushing her broom in front of her. She had heard a rumor that the man had hired Suzie’s ex-boyfriend Tommy to do work over there. When she had asked Suzie about it the other day, the little bitch just rolled her eyes and walked away.

I will have to talk to the Konopkas about her.

She was disrespectful towards her all the time, even in her place of business which, to Rose, was unprofessional. She was only trying to help the young girl by pointing out that the man he was working for was queer. She laughed at the thought of what would happen to Hayden should he get too friendly with an ex-army ranger. Tommy would put him in his place, for sure.

She also thought about Michelle, that terrible woman who tried to have her nephew Charlie prosecuted. It wasn’t his fault that her stupid husband had been ignorant of the dangers of working out on that road. Now the little whore was shacking up with someone else—an older man, new in town—Paul, she thought his name was, from what her mailman said.

Her dark mood couldn’t be helped any more than the coming seasons. Especially with the terrible nightmares that she had been having lately, sleep was something that had become elusive. She hated the feelings of being on edge, of being afraid to walk in her house in the dark, afraid of some mysterious threat just beyond her reach.

The woman in her dreams professed to love and understand her, wanted her to come to the lake and wait for her. She was dressed in a gown of sorts, and her raven-black hair hung beautifully in her face. That face, so pale against the darkness that shrouded her, was elegant, but those eyes…those horrible black eyes felt like staring into hell itself. She would wake sweating and shaking and grab for her rosary.

The bell rang in the front and she rolled her eyes, leaning the broom handle against a metal cabinet. Judy stood there with a package in her hands, smiling sweetly.

“Are you still sour with me?” she asked, her pretty gray and black hair swept up in a bun and sitting on top of her head. She wore a red and black blouse and a pair of smart black slacks with red pumps.

“Why would I be?” Rose asked sweetly.

Judy knew that tone. It was enthralling, sounded sweet, but it was as dangerous as a rattlesnake tail. Rose didn’t scare her, and that had to piss her off even more. “Oh, I don’t know. You went over there to try and intimidate the poor boy and got put in your place. Just because someone is gay doesn’t make them weak in any way.”

Rose’s temper flared. She was shocked that Judy had the audacity to speak to her this way. They had been friends for years and Judy had sought favor from her when she was trying to start her business. The town council had to approve her business license and Rose had put the squeeze on them. She had better watch her step or Rose may try to have it revoked.

Judy watched Rose’s face become pale, a sure sign that she was furious. She didn’t like bullies and she was starting to not like her. Sure, sometimes she was a good woman, but she had this nasty habit of trying to manipulate everything and everyone in her life to her advantage. Judy let her pull the strings sometimes, but it was rare that Rose ever tried to pull too hard. This time, she felt like the woman was stepping over the line of their friendship, and Judy honestly wasn’t in the mood to put up with her bullshit. She, too, was short-tempered, especially since her recent inability to sleep well at night. She was having horrible nightmares about her late husband and a strange link to the lake. She’d only woken up this morning after several cups of coffee.

The two ladies faced off silently, and Rose was about to speak when the door swung open. A disheveled and weeping woman swept in. It took Rose a second to realize who it was. She rushed around the counter and took the poor woman’s hands.

“Mrs. Lage! What is the matter?” Judy asked.

The woman, who had a handful of mail, kept wiping at her eyes and sobbing. “It’s Don. He woke up last night screaming from a nightmare about Elizabeth. I thought he would be all right…” She sobbed harder, her shoulders shaking.

Judy and Rose led her to a chair and sat her down. The woman continued, “He suffered a massive heart attack in bed. I called 911 but he was gone before they arrived!” She fell apart as she said the last few words. Rose stood there shocked, as Judy wrapped her arms around Mrs. Lage’s shoulders trying to comfort her.

“I am so sorry.” Rose said, her headache worse than ever pulsing in her temples. She didn’t feel sorry, she felt annoyed. She hated the creeping sensation running up her body that made her want to slap the woman in front of her to shut her up. Rose bit down on the inside of her mouth and took a step back, temptation running down her arm.

Judy held the woman while she railed against everything that had been going on. “First it was Chad, then Elizabeth, now Don!” she cried. Judy tried smoothing her hair back from her forehead, whispering nonsense things to calm her down. Eventually the sobs subsided, and the woman just sat there looking expressionless and weary. Judy took the letters from Mrs. Lage’s hands and handed them to Rose, who went to file them for pick-up the next day.

The whole situation bothered Judy, for obvious reasons, but worse of all she was stuck with Eunice talking about nightmares. It made her skin crawl. For the past few days, the town had been under some sort of spell. At her boutique, people would come in and they would be short-tempered, quick to bite, or would just be blank. One customer in particular, Jamie Smith, the high school homecoming queen, kept commenting that she hadn’t slept well in several days. Attributing the lack of sleep to nightmares, she recalled a few of them for Judy. Now, here was another dream which resulted not in a restless night, but in a heart attack.

“Honey, is there anything I can do for you?” Judy asked.

Mrs. Lage shook her head. “No. My sister is coming in from DC to help me arrange the funeral. Father Mark has already been to the house, and people are coming in droves to pay their condolences. I haven’t seen so many casseroles in my life. I just have to get through the next couple of days.”

“You’ll call me in case you think of something?” Judy asked. Mrs. Lage nodded, thanking her and walking out the door.

Judy watched her go and then turned backed to Rose. “This town is falling apart. Why Rose, you’re as white as a sheet. What is wrong with you?”

“I’m having nightmares as well, Judy.” Rose watched out the window as Mrs. Lage got into her car.

Judy just stared at her, she had never seen Rose so shaken up before. “What do you think is causing this?”

Rose chuckled and sighed. “There is the old legend about the mine and a curse. You think it’s Veronica enacting her revenge?”

Judy rolled her eyes, but the thought stayed with her for a moment. What if…? Then she mentally shook herself. Of course not, there are no such things as curses.

“Terrorists. That’s what it is,” Rose said, her chin out defiantly.

“What?” Judy was unsure of what she just heard.

“It’s those terrorists. They have poisoned our water supply or used one of those chemtrail airplanes to…to…spread LSD or something. It’s making everyone hallucinate.”

As preposterous as the thought of a curse being initiated on the town, the thought of terrorists trying to scare the bejesus out of a Podunk town, in northern Vermont of all places, made Judy almost laugh.

Rose noticed and it made the pulsing in her temples worse, she gritted her teeth and lashed out at her. “You have any better ideas?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“I think people are just scared and are thinking about the series of deaths. We have had several in a few short days and people are on edge. I think it’s normal. Hell Rose, even I’ve had a few nightmares. I dreamed of my husband as well.”

“I hope you’re right,” was all Rose said as she returned to the backroom to finish what she had started, leaving Judy staring after her, and wondering.