Chapter 14
Charles Connell stood gazing out of the window at the charming little historic city below, sipping his Scotch thoughtfully.
The suite of rooms he had taken at the Hawthorne were pleasant enough, but not particularly to his taste.
Still, they were better than his cell at Morley Ridge.
He was anxious to be back in Mercy again, but it would be foolish to risk it so soon after his escape, so for the moment, Salem would have to do.
He would return soon enough. If his extended stay at Morley Ridge had taught him anything, it was the value of patience.
He unbuttoned the jacket of his expensively tailored suit and tucked his hand comfortably into his pocket.
The role of wealthy businessman wouldn’t have been his first choice either, but as disguises went, it was acceptable and certainly comfortable.
He had always been extremely good at hiding his true self, making people see exactly what he had wanted them to.
Taking another sip, he allowed the earthy peat smoke and sweet, smooth toffee flavor to roll around on his tongue. The Macallan was a good choice; he would have to remember to commend Davis on his excellent taste, but then again, he had learned never to underestimate the man.
Pulling his hand from his pocket, he tilted his wrist and noted the time. Davis was due back from Mercy soon. The door of his suite opened, and a smile curved his lips as he turned around.
“Davis,” he greeted.
“Charles.” The other man inclined his head, his gaze wandering to the open bottle on the coffee table. “I see you found my good Scotch.”
Charles took a seat on the sofa, casually crossing his legs as he lifted his glass in a mock toast.
“It’s not bad.”
“Not bad?” Davis replied in amusement. “That’s a ten-thousand-dollar bottle of Macallan 1939.”
“I’m celebrating.”
“Isn’t that a little premature?” Davis poured himself a glass.
“I’ve waited twenty years, Davis,” he answered. “To the days ahead.”
“To the days ahead.” Davis raised his glass and took a sip, savoring the taste.
“So, what’s happening in Mercy? Are the police still chasing their tails?”
“Morons,” Davis scoffed. “They’ve only just discovered the remains of the second sacrifice. I mean, honestly, do they need us to put up signs?”
“Patience,” Charles replied. “They still have their part to play.”
“If we can trust them to do that.”
“Was the second sacrifice marked with the serpent seal?”
“Yes.”
“Has anyone figured out the significance of the brand?” Charles asked.
“No.” Davis said dryly. “Like I said, morons. They’re still so fixated on your daughter that they are not using what little intelligence they have.”
“Morons,” Charles agreed.
“Exactly.”
“Did you leave Olivia my little gift?” He rose from his seat, restless as he wandered back to the window.
“Yes, I did.” Davis swallowed the rest of his drink in one go, staring thoughtfully into his empty glass. “I have to admit, Charles, that was a little cruel, even for you. She’s your daughter.”
“I’m well aware of that,” he murmured. “But I need her to go back… I need her to remember that night.”
“There’s something else,” Davis added. “She’s more powerful than we expected.”
Charles turned around sharply. “Explain.”
“She has extremely potent wards guarding the perimeter of her property. I touched the boundary for just a brief moment, and her power…” He shook his head.
“It’s raw and undisciplined. She hasn’t had the proper instruction or guidance, but I’d say she hasn’t even begun to tap the edges of what she is capable of. ”
“Did you cross the line?”
Davis shook his head. “I didn’t want to risk it.”
“Then how?”
“I paid some pizza delivery kid in town fifty bucks to deliver it and keep his mouth shut. He didn’t know her and had no idea of the significance of the doll, so he had no trouble crossing the protection line.”
“Devious.”
Davis shrugged. “I have my moments.”
“I think it’s time to step up the schedule. We haven’t much time. All five sacrifices must be completed by the winter solstice,” Charles mused.
“What is it you want?”
Charles considered for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “Send my daughter the package.”
* * *
Theo climbed out of Olivia’s car and glanced up at her house. It was a jolt to see it. He’d dreamed of this place for years, and he still couldn’t quite get used to the fact that it was real.
He watched Olivia climb out of the car and lock it.
Sometimes he wondered if this wasn’t all some elaborate dream, or maybe he really was dead, maybe he’d died in that barn when the beam had fallen on him.
Maybe this was his afterlife, stuck in a never-ending hallucination.
He shook his head; what a morose thought.
Olivia looked up, her clear gaze catching his and holding it. The wind whipped through her long, dark hair and it tumbled over her shoulder in a riot of loose curls.
Olivia caught Theo staring at her intently.
Jeez, the guy needed to learn how to lighten up.
She rounded the car, casually glancing back to the edge of where her protection wards held.
There had been a brief moment as they drove over the line when she wondered if it would allow Theo to pass.
She had to admit that despite everything she still had some doubts about him, about his true intentions toward her.
Although one thing was now certain; he didn’t intend her any harm, otherwise he’d never have been able to cross the protective line.
She released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, and the knot inside her relaxed.
Pulling out her keys when she reached the front door, she paused, looking toward the woods. She wondered exactly where Brody’s body had been discovered. The woods stretched for miles around the lake. Just because his body was discovered in the woods, didn’t mean it was close to her property.
“Are you alright?” Theo asked.
“Yeah,” she muttered. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Her hands trembled and she fumbled with the keys, unable to unlock the door.
“Olivia.” Theo’s voice was a low whisper as he stepped close enough for her to feel the heat and presence of him at her back.
“Sometimes, I just wish…”
“What?” he rumbled quietly. “What is it you wish?”
She sighed. “That I’d never come back.”
She unlocked the door and stepped through.
Theo threw an uneasy glance toward the woods before following.
After hanging their jackets in the hallway, she led him into the library, where the fire burst into flame as it always did.
Her stomach clenched as she cast an uneasy glance in Theo’s direction.
Shit, she’d forgotten it did that. He simply stared at the fireplace and then back at her, his dark eyes unreadable.
“I banked the fire before I left. The gust of wind from when I opened the door must have made the embers flare up.” She gave a nervous laugh.
He chose not to question her explanation, and when he turned his back on her to study the room, she threw an annoyed glare at the hiccuping fire as it danced merrily in the hearth.
“Stop it,” she mouthed at the flames, and the fire dimmed sulkily. “I’m going to go and put the kettle on. Make yourself comfortable.”
Theo merely nodded absently as he continued to study the rows and rows of books. Fascinated. He’d never seen so many books in one place. By the time Olivia had walked back in with a mug of tea in one hand and a coffee in the other, he had moved on to the photos on the mantelpiece.
He took one of the mugs from her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Is this your mother?” He indicated one of the framed photos. “You look very much like her.”
“Yes.” She tilted her head as she studied the picture.
“The detail is…” He shook his head, unable to find the right word. “The artist is very talented.”
“Oh…” She blinked. “Uh, that’s a photograph, like in the books I showed you. It’s created by uh… a machine which is able to recreate an exact likeness of, well, anything, people, places.”
“Amazing,” he murmured. “She is very beautiful.”
“Yes, she was.” Olivia stared at the picture.
“Was?”
“She’s dead.” She reached out and turned it face down on the mantel, closing down the conversation.
Ever since she’d heard her father had escaped, that night had played on her mind.
She’d spent years trying to shut it out, but now it was almost impossible.
The doll had shaken her up more than she wanted to admit, and right now, she couldn’t bear to think about her mother at all. It hurt too much.
“I’m sorry,” Theo said softly. “I lost my mother too.”
Olivia nodded, not trusting her voice. She could see the pain in his eyes.
She had no doubt losing his mother had been painful for him.
She could hear in his voice the love he had for his mother, and the aching note of loss.
Although part of her sympathized, she wasn’t ready to share her pain with anyone.
“I have something for you.” She set her cup down on a nearby table, changing the subject.
He placed his cup down and watched as she climbed onto a chair and pulled a small leather-bound chest from the top of one of the bookcases. Placing it on the desk, she opened it and reached inside. Before she’d even withdrawn her hand, he recognized what she held.
“My journal,” he breathed out as she placed the shabby leather-bound volume into his hands. “Hester?”
Olivia nodded. “She kept it. I found it in among her belongings.”
He turned it over in his hands reverently, as if he were familiarizing himself with it again. He opened it and scanned down the first few pages to convince himself it was real.