Chapter 57
Warmed by the sun, a Shasta Daisy is sending out leaves, preparing for spring!
Hidden Secrets
Leona Palmer Haag
Chapter 57
Jenn started crying the moment she woke up on Monday
morning. That was well before dawn. She'd dreamed Nick was drowning and no matter
how far she stretched out her hand, she couldn't quite reach his fingertips
struggling to grasp hers. Darkness engulfed him and he sank from her sight,
leaving nothing more than a faint ripple on the surface. She screamed herself
hoarse, but he was gone. The screaming awoke her.
She huddled in bed wondering if this was the way
psychics made their claims. If she shared her dream with one would she be told
she was operating under fears and dreads, or she was seeing her future—one
where Nick vanished leaving no traces behind, including nothing tangible beyond
his name and face in her heart. “No,” she whispered over and over hundred
times. “No. He’s coming back.” She repeated the command until she lost
consciousness and slept again, only to have the dream repeat in darker shades
of murky grey.
Jenn cried before breakfast, through it, and
afterward. Katie patted her cheek and said, "Mommy sad?"
"Very," Jenn said, trying to pull herself
out of misery and paste on a smile. It lasted for only a split second, then faded
back into a frown.
After lunch Jenn tucked Katie down for a nap and tried
to read. That failed. She surfed the net, but it held no interest. Her hits
were random and chaotic. Scattered. Clothes, recipes, home repairs, Mexico
travel, Mormons, Arizona, bath salts, etc. She tried to nap, but ended up
jerking awake in the middle of the same familiar nightmare.
She paced the quiet castle from the front of the
master suite to the back—looing out to the street, then out to the window. She
studied Katrina’s house, and then the gully, then returned to Katrina’s house
with a green holiday wreath for St. Patrick’s day on the door. Nothing moved in
the gully except a raven that swooped over before disappearing from sight.
Katrina backed out of her garage and drove away. The pool beckoned. Katrina’s
house stood empty. The Gully did too.”Oh, this is a dismal existence,” Jenn
whispered, finally leaving the tracks she’d worn in the carpet. She ventured
down the sweeping front stairs and wandered through each room on the main
level. She knew each inch by heart—she’d vacuumed and dusted them dozens of
times.
She headed downstairs and inspected every space. She
tossed a few toys into a cupboard, pulled books out to read to Katie next, and
straightened throw pillows laying crooked on a sofa. She stopped at the only
door she'd been unable to open. A wooden door painted like all the rest. Jenn tried
the doorknob, but it wouldn’t budge. She rested the palms of her hands on surface
and pushed. It didn't even shiver.
"Why did I go to Baltimore, anyway?" she
muttered at the door. "So I could be stumped by a door?" She kicked
it and hurt her toe. She stepped back and sized it up again. "Okay, little
wood door that won't move, let me guess. You’re really ten tons of solid steel
with wood veneer?” She ran her fingers over the surface, then her flat palm. It
was cold to her touch. She felt a bedroom door in the same manner before
turning back to the mystery door. “I'm an A+ student. Top of the class. And I
know my steel when I feel it."
Jenn pulled out her cell phone. "Hey, Uncle
Kevin, what's the prize behind door number three?"
"Huh?"
"The solid steel prison door in the basement?
What's behind it? A new car, a boat, or a cheesy dining room set from the
seventies?"
Kevin stifled a laugh. Jenn was creative, he had to
give her that. "Uh, mechanical stuff. Try a furnace and water
heater."
"That's across the hall behind door number two.
Guess again."
"Other mechanical stuff?"
"Like what?"
"Like stuff every house needs in order to
function. Why?"
"Just curious. Do you want me to tear it down, or
will you tell me? Those are your only options. Choose wisely."
"Okay. Umm, tear it down."
"You’ve got it. I'll call you back when I get
in." With permission granted it was time to go to work. Could she find a
demolition expert in the yellow pages? Her phone rang as she headed up the
stairs. It wasn't Kevin as she expected, calling to tell her to stay away from
a fireman's ax and TNT and stop snooping.
It was Kristina. "Dia! I've been looking over
this summer's script and thinking about costumes. You're an artist, so I began
wondering if you'd like to sketch up some of my ideas. Our budget hovers around
zero, so it would be strictly volunteer. Are you interested?"
"Sure," Jenn said, momentarily being caught
off balance.
"Great. I’m just pulling into the neighborhood. I'll
be right over with a script for you to look over."
Ten seconds later Kristina rang the front doorbell and
Jenn let her in. She looked around, and maybe heard the silence. "Samuel's
gone, I’m guessing. Are you okay?" she asked.
Jenn shrugged. "Okay is a very broad term. It
seems like he’s always gone. But he left me with one unanswered question.
There's a door in the basement I haven't been able to pry open. I have no clue
what's behind it."
"What door?" Kristina asked.
Jenn led her down the stairs. She pointed at the
offending door. “If I were on a game show they would have opened it for me by
now. But since This is real life, they should have left the combination. I’ve
looked everywhere, but can’t find one.”
Kristina looked around for a moment before she said,
"I remember when your house was built. Right about there, behind that
door, is where the stairwell goes down to the next level."
"Another basement?" Jenn asked in surprise.
"Yes. It's a huge cement vault. The same size as
the basement. Maybe three-thousand square feet. Maybe you could call your
realtor to see if he can get the code for you."
"Yeah, I could try that. Do you remember if the
second basement has running water or electricity?"
"During construction they installed several huge
steel pipes and cement vaults probably for electrical wires and ventilation and
that sort of thing, I assume. I do remember that."
"Hmm," Jenn thoughtfully said. "Well,
I'll call someone later. I might be able to use the space for something like
putting in a tanning bed." Jenn almost laughed. Maybe Monica would visit
if she knew she had that luxury.
Jenn and Kristina returned to the main floor and sat
at the kitchen bar and talked about the play. Jenn sketched clothing as
Kristina gave her the plot, time period and setting. "You're a
natural," Kristina said as she saw a frumpy busybody in sagging ruffles
appear on paper, followed by a devious aunt with an over-sized broach clasped
at her throat. Of course, Annabelle, the main character, looked adorable in
bobby socks and saddle shoes. Her mother was sleek and proper. It would look
natural if the boyfriend's shirttail hung out after sneaking through the rose
bushes to steal a kiss.
Kristina left with the sketches and Jenn doodled on
the sketchpad as she scanned the script. A moment later she was staring at a
second, unbidden rendition of the bat-wing eared man. A chill ran up her spine.
She turned the notepad over and set her pencil aside. Her phone vibrated on the
countertop and it half scared her to death.
"Jenn, I remember they installed a generator in
the lower basement," Kristina said. "I guess if the power goes out
we'll come over to your house to either stay warm or cold, depending on the
season. I didn't really snoop around, so that's all I remember."
"Won't a candle do if the power goes out?"
"Not if you want to nuke a hotdog or you're
afraid of the dark."
After Jenn hung up she played with her phone. The
temptation to call Kevin and report what she'd found stole over her. Suddenly
her phone started vibrating again. This time it was Angela. Jenn flipped
upright the bat-wing eared man and stared at his face as she thought about the
strange coincidence. The man's cold eyes stared back. "Hey, Angela, how
are you?" she asked.
Jenn quickly turned to a clean paper and began
sketching Angela. Five foot four. Broad shoulders and narrow hips with a
thickening midriff. Bright blue eyes on a perfect slant, giving her movie star
aura. Upturned nose. Sculpted eyebrows. Only a dozen freckles. Square chin. Two
dimples. Red hair layered, shoulder length and pulled behind her ears. Spiky
bangs. High cheekbones. Thin upper lip, full lower one. Always laughing. Always
happy. In love with high collars and long sleeves. Looked good in red, blues,
greens and purple with flashes of silver bangles around her wrists and dangling
from her ears.
"Jenn, I have a question for you. Will you give
me an honest answer?" she was asking as her pencil filled in details.
For some reason Jenn shivered as she stared at
Angela's intent eyes looking at her from the white page. "Sure." She
rubbed away the chill running up her arms.
"Have you ever been scared?"
Jenn paused. For a moment she wondered if she'd ever
not been scared. To death. Almost frozen with fright. She took a deep breath to
unthaw. "Do you remember the story Bob told about me?"
"Kind of. That's why I'm calling you and not
anyone else we met last month at the training program. He said you were
abducted last year. That means kidnapped, right? How did it happen? How did you
get away? Would you mind telling me
about it?"
Jenn took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I
can't."
"Holding it in won't help you heal," Angela
said.
"Healing isn't the problem. It's something I'd
rather not talk about. I haven't told a soul. Not even my best friends at home.
It's over—a closed subject."
"Jenn, I'll confess I'm asking purely out of
personal curiosity."
Jenn shook her head and began chewing her bottom lip.
"Angela, I'd rather not talk about it. It's not something I enjoy thinking
about." Jenn knew her experience was classified. Top secret. She couldn't
tell. Not even to another agent's spouse.
Angela was silent for a moment. Jenn
decided she'd finally given up. Then Angela said, "Jenn, I'm not just
curious. I need to know."
Red lights started flashing and
warning sirens went off in Jenn's head. Her heart pounded and her head spun.
What had Matt said? Who was the bat-wing eared man? General something. She
couldn't remember exactly. Was he connected to Angela? Jenn said, "Let's
talk about something lighter. My neighbor invited me to help her plan costumes
for a play this summer. I've been skimming over the script. It's creative and
funny. Maybe you can give me hairstyle suggestions. Something from the
nineteen-fifties."
"Jenn, I finally got the drawing of the airport
security guy. I can't believe how close it looks. Especially his eyes. You drew
his chin a little wide, but only because I wasn't specific enough."
Jenn turned the general's face upward again and stared
at him. Her imagination narrowed his chin. "I guess I was lucky," she
whispered, sweeping her eyes over his features, then looking at her drawing of
Angela.
"I think I saw him again. Or maybe it was his
twin. I can't be sure. He had a hat on. One of those furry things with long ear
muffs. Naturally I couldn't see his ears, but his eyes, I saw them. He saw me.
I nearly died. So scary. And then I thought of you—like call Jenn
immediately—thoughts."
Warning horns blared in Jenn's mind. Her hand shook so
hard she almost dropped the cell phone. She thought of Katie sleeping
peacefully upstairs. She jumped off the bar stool and crossed the room and
flicked on the gas fire and sat before it, trying to warm up, then raced up the
back stairs and across the loft to peer through the doorway at her baby.
“Jenn, are you still there?"
“Yeah,” she whispered as she entered the room and
tip-toed to the back balcony door to sit on the nearby sofa. She glanced out
the window as a shadow fell over the deck, filling her heart with dread as the
house temperature dropped a few degrees. She shrank back, but it was nothing
but a cloud. Shivers ran up and down her spine in head-on collision course.
"Yeah. I'm kind of busy, but I'm still here." She got up and checked
the door lock.
"What is he doing in Chicago, I’m asking myself.
He didn’t get on the plane with me. Did he follow me, do you think?"
"Maybe he lives there?" Jenn weakly replied.
"I don't think so. You're always so funny and
have such a great sense of humor, but that's not what I need right now. I need
confidence. Assurance me I'm not crazy. Maybe give me suggestions. When I saw
him I nearly jumped out of my skin. He gave me the creeps. What if he’s looking
for me?"
Jenn laughed, trying to not sound like it was catching
in her throat. "Yeah, bat-wing ears can do that." Her mind raced. Who
was Angela Dowdy, really? A plant at the training program? A spy? Like that
stupid Davis or Saymore guy at the airport? Jenn almost shut her phone, but
waited, dreading and also wanting to hear what Angela might say next.
"My boys are at basketball practice. I have no
clue why, but all I've been able to think about this afternoon is leaving
early, picking them up, and flying to Dallas so I can talk to you. I need to
get away from here. I'm scared. I keep thinking I need to talk to you about
something, but I'm not sure what. It's as if some voice inside me keeps saying
talking to you will help. Specifically talking to you about how to be safe."
"But I don't really know anything about safety.
What's really happening?"
"That man. I'm afraid he's watching me. I—I'm
scared to go home tonight."
Jenn lay weakly back on the carpet and stared at the
ceiling. She understood fear. Especially at the moment. "Okay, Angela,
take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Tell me when you've done that."
Jenn followed her own advice and slowly breathed.
"Okay, I did it, but it didn't help."
Jenn felt the same way. Nothing helped. She said,
"That's fine. Now get your car keys and go pick up your boys. Drive
straight to your husband's work and take that silly sketch I sent you and give
it to them. See if they can identify the guy. Go from there." Jenn rubbed
the chills on her arms.
"You make it sound sane, but they will think I’m
crazy."
Jenn laughed to help ease Angela's nervousness and her
own fright. "Because it is. It's a good bet you're only seeing a ghost. A
phantom. But do it anyway."
Angela laughed. "You're right. After all the
stuff they taught us my mind is going wild and imagining things—like how to use
my keys as a weapon and my nylons as a noose. That guy is a general apparition.
In fact, that guy isn't real. I guess I'll get back to work. I've got a perm to
do before I go home."
Jenn sat bolt upright. Had Angela said general? Jenn
wondered if she misreading sirens and flashing lights. She scooted back until
she rammed into the sofa. Katie didn't stir. She leaned on it for support.
"Angela, can I make a suggestion?"
"Sure. Stop calling with scary stories?"
"No. Call
your husband. Have him pick up your boys. Have him pick you up. Don't leave
work without a bodyguard. Do you hear me? Just don’t."
Angela began laughing. "You are
good! Way good! I spooked myself, somehow managed to scare you, and now you're
tossing the fright back into my own lap. How did you turn it around so fast? I
guess I deserved it. I'll tell you what, I'll call you later and we'll talk
about it. I've got a haircut to do."
Jenn stared at the silent phone. She closed it,
tapped it against her knee, then opened it and placed a call.
End Chapter 57
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