Secrets At Crescent Point, page 17
But it wasn’t fine. Had he gone to be with Lenora? Hands fluttering, I finally hugged myself, forcing my gaze to his. He stood so still, just watching.
“And you are upset.”
“You told me to leave the island, and then tried to kiss me,” I said, my hand going to my flushed cheek. “I’m upset, yes.”
“I should not have done that.”
Regret marred his beautiful features, and I wondered if he meant he shouldn’t have told me to leave or shouldn’t have tried to kiss me. I wished I could ask. Instead, we stood miles apart in the same room.
Feeling tired, I sank to a nearby chair. Elbows on my knees, I rubbed my temples. The sedative from last night left me feeling groggy. I’d practically passed out on Sonja, minutes after Siyah left us. I never had a chance to speak with her and I had needed to.
Siyah knelt next to me and took my hand in his, holding me with his gaze. “I get the feeling I walked in on something between the two of you earlier.”
Ignoring the rush of flutters to my chest, I glanced over at the closed door before leaning in to whisper. “She was starting to tell me something about Niklos.”
“And I interrupted. Sorry.”
“Niklos was involved with some bad people, Siyah.” I breathed. “He owed them money.”
“Yes, I know.” My lips shut on the rest of the sentence, realization dawning.
Siyah knew a whole lot more than he had let on. Through this whole ordeal, he told me as little as possible. I felt constantly in the dark with him.
Frustration bit at my patience and I sighed heavily. “You do know, don’t you? Thompson said you found Niklos beaten and yet you never said a word while I was frantically trying to help my sister find her missing fiancé. Is that where he was all those days he was missing? With them?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you had an idea they might have something to do with where he was.”
“I was not sure they were related.” The veil of calm floated down over his features. Detached, ready to argue, he folded his arms. “Not then, at least, and I did not want to involve you.”
“Involve me? I have been involved from the beginning, Siyah. I’ve been chased and frightened and assaulted from almost the moment I arrived. I’m beginning to wonder if I know what is real and what is not.” Rising to my feet, I swung open his bedroom door and strode down the hall with forced calm. The shower was running in the bathroom as I passed it. Sonja hadn’t heard us and relief flooded me. Siyah’s footsteps, slow behind me, told me he followed, but I ignored him.
“Stop, Raven,” he said, his voice low, but calm. “Please be still long enough to hear what I have to say.”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I am so tired, Siyah, I cannot even express the depth of it. So much fear and worry. So many lies and I can only take so much before it becomes too much.” I gathered my things, refusing to look at him, unwilling to do this.
Siyah was beautiful, formidable, and took my breath away. He had been the source of my greatest happiness and hope, but now…now he only seemed to push me off balance. I felt out of control with him and out of control over my feelings for him. I could not be that girl again. I refused to be. “My father almost died. My sister seems to be cracking apart. And worst of all, I’ve been deliberately kept in the dark by you, when what I needed the most was for you trust me with what you knew.”
“Listen,” he reached for me, and I was powerless to stop him as he pulled me close. “I was trying to protect you.”
Sinking into him, I whispered against his chest. “You should have told me.” Letting my arms slip under his, I splayed my hands on his muscled back, wishing I could draw strength from him. I was so tired of being scared and confused.
“I should have told you,” he repeated and stroked my hair. “You are right.”
His hard angles held my soft curves and it felt so warm and safe to be this near him, but I pulled away, frowning to myself. Not five days ago, he’d had someone else in his arms. Perhaps he’d even held her last night. He only offered comfort and that was not enough for me. I couldn’t leave my heart unguarded around him again. I remembered his words from last night. He wanted me safe, but that was it. He thought it best I left Noble. I stepped away and Siyah let me go, his fingers sliding down my arm as he let his hand drop. Dark circles made his eyes seem tired, preoccupied.
“I just need some peace, if only for a little while.” I paced, rubbed the ache in my elbow, and glanced out the window. The storm whipped leaves along the glass and they stuck, and then slid down slowly. “I wish I could work.”
Siyah stood silent, and then motioned towards the door.
“Before this loft was livable, I worked out of a small studio at the far end of the hall downstairs. If you need time alone, to spread out your drawings, there is great light there.”
“That sounds nice.” I nodded and smiled. “Thank you. I’ll tell Sonja when she gets out.”
“I did not…” Siyah stopped himself. “It is not my intention to keep you in the dark about anything. But there is so much uncertain, right now. So much is at stake.”
I thought about Lenora and the council. Siyah had so much on his shoulders, so many people whose lives his decisions affected.
I was just a visitor here. An outsider by choice and action. I had no right to interfere or put in jeopardy the fate of the families.
“I know, Siyah,” I said quietly. “But you will do the right thing, I think. You know the consequences of rash choices and you love Noble. You’ll make a great leader. An honorable one.”
He stilled next to me, but I kept my eyes on the window. The afternoon sun shone eerie yellow against a sky pocked with black clouds. A vein of light spidered down, snapping on the ground.
Placing a key on the work bench, Siyah left without another word.
I didn’t blame him.
What more was there to say?
26
After her shower, Sonja, her eyes half-lidded, told me she needed to sleep, and though I pushed her for more information, she did not have any. She found evidence that Niklos bought a gun, a receipt from a store in Seattle, but nothing more. Nothing solid to take to Thompson other than Niklos felt threatened. Then she settled into Siyah’s leather chair near the fire and nodded off. Maybe an hour or so to herself would clear her thoughts and she and I could talk more about Niklos.
I took an apple from the bowl on Siyah’s counter, pulled a sketchbook from my carry-on case, and grabbed the key to the studio.
It was at the end of the building’s first floor. Furthest from Siyah’s loft, the small room smelled of sawdust and glue. I smiled because it reminded me of my grandfather’s woodshop. Swedish work tables and low hanging light fixtures made the space feel cozy despite its bare furnishings. I wandered the room and held a heavy glass paperweight in the palm of my hand. Scraps of leather and a collection of paint samples littered the desk. I curled into the office chair and propped my sketchbook on my knees, determined to get some work done despite my unsettled mind.
An hour later, I smoothed the charcoal lines of the drawing, blending the edges of an arched window. One bare tree, branches gnarled, reached from the center of the drawing to the window panes used to frame the scene in deep black. On the lowest limb, a lone black bird hunched over a nest, the eggs large and white and cracked.
I tilted my head, licked the tip of my pencil, and used the side of the lead to fill in a dark mist moving along the ground and exposed roots of the tree. Just beyond the tree, in the distance, I drew in the waving swells of the sea. On it, I etched in the silhouette of a boat. I bit my lip, wondering how I would make the tiny lantern glow in the finished pendant. Maybe a chip from a topaz would be warm enough to pass for a flickering flame?
Sighing, I traced the boat over and over, making it blacker and knowing that no matter how far I moved from Noble, it would always bleed out of me onto the pages of my artwork. North Carolina was beautiful and lush, with amazing sights, but still I drew the dark shores of my mysterious Noble.
Mysterious…
I flipped over a page and outlined the shape of the carousel, my hands shaking as I forced myself to remember the night I found the body of Niklos. Every detail, the cracked and peeling varnish on the horses, the tarnished poles, the scratchy calliope music, came flooding back. In the corner of the page, I drew a section of woods, the trampled grass strewn with the bodies of rabbits.
There seemed to be things both explainable and unexplainable going on, and the trouble was I could not separate them in my mind. What would a man attacking our boat have to do with the whispers I heard in the rustling leaves? My fingers found the bandage at my forehead and I ground my teeth with frustration. Too little sleep and too many disturbing events muddled my thinking.
Leaning back in Siyah’s chair, I watched raindrops pound the boardwalk planks, the muted drumming soothing. My stomach growled, and I decided to finish one more pendant idea before heading in to see if Sonja wanted to go into the village for lunch. So many nights spent tossing and turning or not sleeping at all caught up with me and I felt the stress of these past days overtake me. Arms heavy, lids lowering, I sank deeper into the seat, barely noticing when my pencil fell from my fingers.
A bright flicker flooded the room, and I startled awake just as a thunderclap shook the glass. Panting, I eyed the dark clouds roiling in the pale sky outside, their bellies flashing purple. Wind whistled in through a crack in the window fluttering the gossamer curtains with a frigid gust. Hugging myself, I gathered my things, wondering how long I’d dozed.
A loud slam shook the room, and I screamed, startled. Half laughing, half shuddering, I eased the door to Siyah’s workroom open and peered out. The overhead lights lining the hallway flickered and winked out. Further down the hall, I heard another slammed door and I nearly dropped my things. One door could be wind, but two?
I stood stone still, listening. Though I’d strained to hear it, the echoing sobs that floated in from the dark hall spiked the hair on my neck. I stumbled backwards, my body tight with terror as the window behind me flew open. The curtains flared out at me like spectral arms. Freezing rain stung my skin like jagged shards of glass, and I spun, screaming. The gust blew the office door shut, and I flattened myself to the wall, panting, grasping at my shredded senses for reason.
“It’s just the wind, Raven,” I whispered and didn’t like the tremor in my voice.
I didn’t bother with Siyah’s window. I reached for the handle, opening the door as quietly as I could. Teeth chattering with cold and fright, I took a step out, squinting in the dark hallway. Another flash lit up the room behind me and a rumble of thunder pushed out towards me so loud it pained my ears.
Intending to run back upstairs to Siyah’s loft, I made it halfway down the hall and froze when I heard it. The sound hissed through me like a current.
Raven…
I turned, frantically scanning the hall for the source of the whisper. Breath hitching, I stumbled forward in the dark, hands floundering out as I dropped my things. Overhead lights flickered, burst with a rain of sparks, and went out again. The plaintive squeak of old hinges sounded down the hallway as a door eased open, slowly casting a rectangle of light on the floor. Trapped in the blackness surrounding me, I ran towards it, fingers tracing the wall as I stumbled on the uneven floor.
My name rasped out of the darkness once more. Gasping, I ran into the room, slamming the door behind me, tears flowing in desperate sobs. I pushed a chair to the door and jammed the back up against the knob. Backing up, I hugged myself, trying to keep from shaking apart.
Seconds passed and the only sound was my ragged breathing. The room was filled with lush draping scarves that covered the tables and lamps. I remembered this room, it had been used as the fortune-teller’s lair when the carnival was going strong. I sought something to hold in my hands, to defend myself, but found only baskets with dried chicken claws and bowls of unusual stones. Jars lined the dusty shelves, their murky liquid held strange suspended shapes that pressed up against the glass. Spider webs floated lazily from wrought iron candle holders, their wispy tendrils luminescent against the storming sky.
Something moved outside the door. A familiar shuffle-drag that sent a quiver of fear sizzling up my spine.
My hand flew to my mouth, to keep the scream from escaping, and I flailed at the counters and shelves with my other. Over papers and discarded debris, my fingers closed over a pillar shape, and I clutched the candlestick to my chest, quaking.
A long scratch trailed down the outside of the door. It sounded like twisted talons.
I gritted my teeth, hands shaking, waiting. The air changed around me, the temperature plunged and my breath flared out in a cloud of vapor. Shivering, I turned at a noise to my left, widening my eyes, trying to see better. Frost crackled along the surface of the wall mounted mirror, the edges going white as a chill billowed over it. Unable to pull my gaze away, I panted, frozen in place. A low moan floated out from behind the wall, and then Crawley’s image jerked across the surface and was gone. I screamed and thrashed at the mirror with the candlestick, my mind firing with panic.
Banging at the door made me turn, swinging, fear vaulting in my chest.
“Raven!” Sonja’s frightened voice came through. “Raven, are you in there?”
I yanked the chair and flung the door open, my heart stuttering. “Did you see it?” I shouted, pulling her into the room, searching the hallway. “Is it gone?”
She held onto me, her face a mask of confusion and concern. “See what? What are you saying?”
The shattered mirror was behind me and I dropped the candlestick, sobs tearing from my chest.
“I think it’s after me,” I cried, my shoulders heaving as I sank to the floor. “I should have told…I should have told the truth.”
27
I did not tell my sister about the frosted mirror, or that I saw the ghost again. Not sure of what I’d seen or if I had let fear take me over the edge, I told her that I thought I’d been followed by someone. She didn’t appear to completely believe me, but when I refused to elaborate, she settled on leaving me be if I agreed to report it.
She drove me to the sheriff’s station.
The entire ride over I stared out the truck window and wondered if this was what if felt like to lose your mind. Now I sat on the battered couch in Thompson’s office, unable to keep from shivering despite the space heater at my feet and the blanket wrapped around my shoulders.
Sonja sat outside, biting her nails and peering in at me through the blinds.
“Your sister said you had a fright. You think someone came after you?”
“I…sort of.”
Frowning, Thompson picked up the phone on his desk. “Well, let me just—”
“Please don’t call him,” I pled. “I don’t want Siyah here.”
Thompson leaned a hip on the desk and regarded me with a worried expression. He toed the heater, making it face me more, and scratched at his sideburn with one hand.
“You two OK?”
“We aren’t…there is no ‘you two’ anymore,” I said, wiping my wet cheek. “Not for years.”
“Uh-huh,” Thomson murmured. “Clearly.”
“Look, I convinced Sonja not to get him at his club and I certainly don’t want you to call him now.”
“Raven,” Thompson said and hesitated. “I don’t know you. You could be a complete head case, but I do know Siyah and he doesn’t seem the type to be with a crazy woman.”
“I told you—”
“Yes, I know.” He put a palm up. “You’re not together. I got that. And yet he looked like he might take me down over a few questions last night.”
“He can be…protective,” I said. “But that is all. He has someone else.”
Thompson considered me, and then sighed. After a moment, he said, “You seem really shaken up, that’s all. You and your sister have been through so much that maybe you’re starting to feel it. When is the last time you slept?”
“I don’t know.” Rubbing my face with both hands, I tried to conjure up the strength to tell Thompson what I needed to say. “I asked to speak with you privately b–because I think that all of this has to do with something I did years ago.”
He sat up straighter, brows raised. “Come again?”
“The face you saw, the one on the napkin,” I said and took a breath. “I know who it is.”
“What?” Thompson shook his head as if to clear it. “You’re saying the face in the woods, the one you saw in the mirror…it’s a real person?”
I nodded, my lip trembling. “I think it might be Shane Crawley.”
“Why do I know that name?”
“He’s the teenager who fell from the Ferris wheel,” I explained. “His death is the reason the Romany lost the land, why things seem to be going sideways.”
“Crawley, huh…” He looked at me for a beat, blinked, and then blew his breath out in a slow whoosh.
I buried my face in my palms, not sure if I’d just lost the only real ally I had in all of this.
Thompson had seen the same apparition. “Hey,” he said, and I looked up. “If you think this kid is haunting you, then tell me why.”
That he didn’t kick me out or laugh gave me hope, and I nodded, gathering my thoughts. “That night, when Crawley fell, I was there. I saw what happened.”
“He unhooked the bar,” Thompson said. “I read the report.”
“No, he didn’t,” I said and my voice broke. “He and some Romany boys had been pushing at each other all that night. First at the funhouse, where Crawley and another boy beat up Luka, and then on the Ferris wheel. The two groups were throwing things at each other, popcorn, their soda cups…just being mean.” I took a breath, hand to my chest. “One of the times, Crawley must have wanted to really hit them hard because he lunged when he threw something and…and the bar flew open.”
