The Haunted (Sarah Roberts 12) Page 3

  “She’s been researching that ex-babysitter of hers. A man named Cole Lincoln.”

  “I’m aware of that.”

  “Did you find anything on him?”

  “She didn’t ask me to look. I don’t pry when it comes to Sarah. If she needs me, I’m there. Otherwise, she’ll handle this herself. You have to remember, Aaron, I love her, too. Just in a different way.”

  “Yeah, okay, but I feel something’s wrong.”

  “You want my advice?” Parkman asked.

  Aaron waited a heartbeat before answering. He basically knew what the advice was going to be and didn’t want to hear it.

  “Sure,” he said, dejected. “Go ahead.”

  “Leave her alone in that cabin for the two months. Go back to Toronto as you planned. Let her work out whatever it is she needs to work out with Vivian. Tend to your dojo. Read a book. Watch a movie. Stay busy. Sarah always has a process. This is it. Try anything other than that and it’ll hurt you.”

  “Got it.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “I know.”

  They hung up, but Aaron felt more unsettled than before the call. How could he have thought Parkman would agree with him?

  After grabbing his overnight bag, he exited the motel and headed for the front desk to return the key. He’d be back, but next week he’d stay at the cabin with Sarah for the night. That was her promise to him. Until her first meeting with Dr. Williams, she wanted solitude, minus yesterday’s cemetery visit.

  Parkman could love her any way he wanted, but Aaron didn’t have to leave her alone in a cabin suffering from the dreams, the mental hauntings, as Sarah put it.

  Something has to be done.

  But what? How far was he willing to go? And how much would that push Sarah away?

  He dropped the key off to the clerk, told her his room number and that he was checking out, and headed for the car. On the way across the parking lot, he decided that maybe it would be best to leave Sarah alone. Parkman was right. To have Sarah in your life was to leave her alone.

  The car was warm for an April morning, the sun heating it through the windshield. Once inside, the car started, the air on, he grabbed his cell phone to check email.

  “Missed call …” he muttered to himself.

  Sarah.

  He dialed her number immediately without listening to the message.

  No answer.

  He hit the button to listen to the message.

  Sarah told him about the visitors she had at the cabin last night.

  “Dammit! I knew trouble was brewing.”

  He squealed out of the parking lot, heading back toward the cabin, a half-hour drive on clear roads.

  Then he dialed Parkman back.

  “Parkman here.”

  “It’s Aaron.”

  “I know. Saw the number. What’s up?”

  “Sarah’s in trouble.”

  Chapter 5

  “A cube?” Sarah asked. “In the desert?”

  Dr. Williams nodded, tapping a pen to his lips. “Explain what you see in your mind’s eye.”

  Sarah looked out into the parking lot. The roughly forty parking spaces were pretty empty when she pulled in, but now the lot was barren. Her Charger was parked by the front entrance, only the spoiler on the trunk visible to her.

  “I see a decent sized cube.” She met the doctor’s eyes. He glanced at his pad of paper and wrote something on it. “It’s made of impenetrable steel, but it’s relatively light. Strong but light. Like titanium. There are small windows, the kind NASA would use on a spaceship that can withstand immense pressure. Though these windows are hard to see through, so the inside the cube remains a mystery. Their only design is to be able look out from inside the cube. It has stood for a long time without tarnish. The sand does nothing to its exterior. Ultimately, it’s immovable.”

  The doctor held no expression on his face. “Very good. Now tell me, there’s a ladder somewhere near the cube. Is the ladder beside it, on it, lying down, or on top of the cube? Where is this ladder and what’s the ladder made of?”

  Inside her pocket, her iPhone vibrated.

  Probably Aaron.

  She would call him back after her appointment.

  “The ladder is old. Broken. Can’t be used anymore. Not one rung can be trusted. I see the cube in the desert by itself. The ladder is quite a distance away.” She paused, steepled her fingers, then said, “This is all very interesting, but what does it have to do with why I’m here?”

  He wrote furiously on his notepad. “We’ll get to that. I only have a few more questions. When we’re done with the questions, I’ll share their importance.” He returned her gaze. “I won’t keep a single detail from you.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Think of a horse. Tell me everything that comes to mind. What kind, what size, what color, and so on.”

  She mentally pictured the horse and watched him race in the wind.

  “A large black stallion. I can see him running in the wind, his long mane flowing out with each strong stroke of his muscular body. The body shines in the sun. I see it clearly. He’s gorgeous. Regal. There’s one drawback with this one though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “He has a hard time listening. Does what he wants at times. Good horse and all, but I’m never good with someone not listening.” She shrugged. “If you’re looking for a perfect image, I guess I can’t offer one. Even my imaginative horse has drawbacks.”

  “That’s no problem.” He wrote more notes.

  She glanced outside. At the back of the lot, a dark-colored Ford was parked in a spot half hidden by bushes. She hadn’t seen it there before. Nor had she heard a car pull up. The sunlight bounced off the hood of the car making it hard to discern its color.

  Is it the same one from yesterday?

  “Last two items. Imagine flowers. What kind are they? And where are they in relation to the cube?”

  Wanting to finish this, rush it along so she could go check the car outside, she said, “Lilies. There’s a graveyard. The flowers are beside a headstone.”

  It was all she could think of. Yesterday’s visit to Vivian’s grave. The lilies.

  “And finally, a storm,” Dr. Williams said. “Tell me where the storm is in relation to the cube. What kind of storm and how intense is it?”

  Taking her eyes off the window, she envisioned a storm. “There’s a storm over the cube, directly above it. Dark black clouds, lightning. It’s always there, never wavering. It rains on and off, and sometimes it pours, but the blackness never leaves. It’s what ruined the ladder all these years. But that cube remains untouched.”

  His eyebrows raised a notch, then settled back down. His nose even flared. He continued to write on his pad.

  “Your turn,” she said. “What was that all about?”

  The Ford was still at the back of the lot. Nothing moved outside. The reflection of the sun still made it too hard to discern the color of the paint. It might be the guys from the cemetery yesterday, or it might not be. Or it might be paranoia. If it was, she was already in the right place.

  “Are you prepared for a few revelations?” Williams asked.

  “Sure. Hit me with it, Doc.” Sarah eased back in the chair and crossed her legs.

  This ought to be good.

  “The cube represents you and how you view yourself.”

  “Wow,” she said, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward. “That’s interesting.”

  “Yes,” Williams glanced at the pad in his lap. “Your self-esteem is represented by the size of the cube, which you said was decent-sized. Impenetrable steel. Light. But strong. You looking out those NASA windows, but not letting people see in too easily. As you age into your mid-twenties, nothing’s stopping you, harnessing you as the sand of the desert had no effect on the cube’s exterior. The sand is life and how it wears you down. Evidently, you feel the sands of time have given you a free pass for now. I’d be interested to ask you these quest
ions in twenty years’ time. I imagine the cube would be vastly different.”

  “Who knows? You might be surprised by my answer then, too.” She leaned back in her chair. “That’s quite something. You got all that from the description of a cube?”

  “You gave all that to me.” He used his finger to find something on the page, then said, “The ladder represents friends in your life. They’re broken, and can’t be trusted, not a single rung, not a single one. The ladder was a distance away, too. That means you don’t have a lot of friends.”

  “I have Aaron and Parkman. That’s all I need.”

  “Who are they?” he asked.

  “Aaron’s my boyfriend, and Parkman and I work together on and off. We have for years. Ever since I was twenty-two.”

  “They’re not considered as friends in this. Aaron is your horse. A gorgeous black stallion, running, muscles rippling, but he does what he wants at times. As you said.”

  “I’ll say wow again. You’re really onto something. This is impressive.”

  For the first time since the idea came to her, she realized that this might have been a good move. Vivian had agreed with it, but in Sarah’s heart she still wasn’t sure. The therapist is another human being, one with struggles, and a troubled childhood most likely. Therapists spend their day buying groceries, dealing with irate drivers on the road and day-to-day stressors just like the rest of the human race. With everyone just trying to get through each day and enter the next alive and healthy, getting psychological help after what she had been through in her short life didn’t feel right somehow. But Vivian’s thoughts haunted her and there was nothing Vivian could do about it. So the idea of talking to someone had come up, and Sarah agreed reluctantly at first. Hence the idea of a two-month escape.

  “The flowers are the only one that disturbed me,” Williams said.

  “How’s that?”

  “Have you ever been pregnant before?”

  Sarah shook her head. “No. Absolutely not.”

  Williams rubbed his chin as he looked down at the pad. “Flowers represent how you feel about children.”

  “I love children,” she snapped. “I always put children first.”

  “Not children in general.” He looked at her. “Your children. You saw the lilies by a grave. That tells me the idea of having children for you is dead. You’re so convinced that you’ll never have children that you’ve buried the idea, figuratively speaking.”

  Sarah shook her head in the negative. “Not so. I plan on kids one day, just not yet. When you asked about flowers, I said lilies because those were the flowers I left at my sister’s grave yesterday. Had you asked these questions a week ago you would’ve gotten a different answer.”

  “Okay. Then let’s move on. The storm represents problems in your life. Since this storm is directly over your head, sometimes raining, sometimes not, that tells me your problems are always there, preying on you.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “There’s lightning, dark clouds and blackness.”

  “The lightning must be gunfire,” Sarah said, trying to gauge his reaction. If she was going to continue with this doctor, he would learn of her lifestyle fast enough. Gauging his reaction would help her decide how much to reveal going forward.

  He continued talking as if he didn’t hear her comment. “But here’s something interesting. You said it was the storm and the rain that ruined the ladder years ago.” He looked up at her. “That means you’ve allowed your problems to push your friends away.”

  “That makes sense, but it didn’t happen exactly like that.”

  He set his pad aside. “The point of that exercise is to allow me to see where you’re at. To see how your relationships are coming along. How you are with friends, with Aaron, and what is bothering you in life. Of course it’s all general, surface detail, but without asking you directly, I can get to know you better. It enables me to have a firm grasp on where you’re at which only allows me to guide you through whatever it is you have come to talk about.”

  “Okay, now that we have that out of the way, I prefer a more direct approach in the future. Ask me anything and I’ll answer or choose not to.”

  “I assure you, the beauty of these questions isn’t to trip you up. It’s to assess you psychologically without the awkwardness of me asking how you and your friends are getting along. Or what you think of Aaron. Now I have a solid opinion of how you feel about Aaron.”

  “Okay, I admit, I like how it played out, but I’m more of a straight shooter. Let’s just play our cards and see how the game unfolds. It’s my dime after all.”

  “Agreed.” He adjusted himself in his seat, switched his position to face her better and picked up his pen. “Do you have any questions for me? Or would you like to discuss why you’re here?”

  A door shut hard on the floor below them. Because Dr. Williams’ office was the only one on this floor, the sound echoed throughout the mostly hollow building. Outside, the sun had moved enough for her to see that the Ford was as dark as the one from yesterday.

  Is it the same? she asked Vivian.

  “There’s a lot to be said about the chair you choose in my office,” Williams added.

  Sarah turned back to him. “Oh yeah? What’s this chair say about me?”

  Her stomach twitched and her palms moistened with sweat. She hadn’t been in action since the murder of Father Adams in a hospital in Los Angeles almost nine months ago. She forgot how it felt.

  It was evident that someone was following her. But who? And why?

  And why was Vivian silent on the matter?

  Unless this was Vivian’s plan all along.

  Are you leading me to Cole Lincoln? she asked Vivian.

  Another door banged below them.

  Something changed in the doctor’s face. Was it fear? Or anger?

  Sarah was sure she’d find out soon enough.

  Her phone vibrated in her pants again.

  Chapter 6

  After Sarah failed to pick up his call again, Aaron checked his speed and slowed down. Getting pulled over and attracting police attention would only piss Sarah off more than she already would be when she saw him.

  Sure, he had to get used to her ways, how she didn’t want him looking over her shoulder, watching her back. She looked at it like he was interfering. But for their relationship to work, she had to get used to his ways as well. When he gets a message like the one she left on his cell, she can’t possibly expect him to continue to drive the other way. Of course he would come back.

  People watching the cabin. Male footprints in the dirt outside the cabin’s window.

  He smacked the dash.

  “No way am I leaving her alone.”

  His cell rang. He hit the button on the dash that routed it through the car’s stereo speakers.

  “Yeah?” he said.

  “You there yet?” Parkman asked.

  “Ten more minutes.”

  “Okay. I tied up everything I was working on here. I’ll come out and meet you at the cabin. I’ll need a few hours.”

  “Just keep in touch. I’ll let you know where I am when you’re in the area.”

  “Okay. Text me when you have Sarah.”

  “There could be a delay.”

  “Why?”

  “Sarah had her first doctor’s appointment this morning. She may not be back from that for a few hours if she decides to run errands after or something.”

  “Fine. Just update me when you have something. I’m on my way.”

  “Hey, Parkman? What were you working on?”

  “You really want to know?”

  “Yeah.”

  “A woman hired me to follow her husband.”

  “Why?”

  “Suspicion of adultery.”

  “Was he?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thought so.”

  “Cynical much?”

  “No. Real.”

  “Whatever. I’m on my way.”

 
“Hurry.”

  Aaron disconnected the call. He checked his mirrors, saw no one behind him, then added pressure to the pedal.

  Chapter 7