The Deathtaker Page 5

  Sitting in a rocking chair, on the porch near the entrance, was Abe. He waved when he noticed her approach. Krista waved back as she stopped her truck out front.

  “Good to see you, Miss Vita.” Abe stood up from his chair as she exited her vehicle. He took a few steps forward to rest his arms on top of the wooden railing.

  “You too, Abe. And if I didn’t mention it on the phone enough, it really is so nice of you to let me rent out your guesthouse. I’m grateful, especially after Adeline warned me about the duplex I saw in the paper. I won’t be too much of a bother, I hope.”

  “No bother at all. Happy to have someone back there. A house is just sticks, bricks, and glass until someone fills it up and gives it some love; then it becomes a home. Make that your home, young lady.”

  Krista rocked back on her heels as she clasped her hands behind her back. “I still don’t know how long I plan to stay in Cedar Creek, Abe.”

  Abe gave a small shrug and cocked his head. “Then make it feel like a home for as long as you can.”

  Krista smiled, thankful that he seemed to understand. “I promise to give it some love.”

  “House is around back. Just point your truck that way and keep following the gravel path toward the creek.” He pointed around the side of the main house and tossed a keychain toward her.

  She reached out and grabbed the keys before they hit the ground. “Thanks again.”

  Abe nodded his head as he sat back down in his chair. “You should come around for dinner. We eat at seven-thirty, sharp. None of that, I’m old, I need to eat before six, garbage for me.”

  Krista laughed. “Who ever said you were old?”

  Abe chuckled. “Just come up after you’ve unpacked.”

  “Thank you, I will.”

  The truck’s tires crunched along the gravel road as Krista drove toward the small house. Wood siding, a cornflower blue door, empty flower boxes, and a faded white swing that hung from the covered porch. The guesthouse was perfect from the outside. Krista couldn’t wait to see the inside.

  She pulled her truck to the side of the house, toward the building that looked as if it doubled as both garage and storage, but stopped abruptly in front of the barn style doors that marked the entrance. The right door was wide open, and Krista could clearly see that the inside of the building was packed with boxes and furniture. She killed the engine and got out. Adeline had clearly mentioned, as a selling point, a garage to keep her truck out of the elements. There was no way it would fit inside with all those boxes.

  As Krista got out of the truck to investigate, a guy around her age, maybe a few years older, wearing well-worn jeans and a white t-shirt, moved into view. She watched as he opened a box and frowned at its contents. He had earbuds in his ears, but she could hear the music from where she stood. The wires snaked under the collar of his shirt and popped out again under the hem, only to disappear into his back pocket, where she could just make out the rectangular outline of the music source. He pulled up the hem of his shirt to wipe the moisture from his brow and then twisted his body away from Krista, still unaware of her presence.

  Krista walked up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

  Sam spun around expecting to find his uncle but an entirely different face was staring back at him. He’d never seen the woman before, and could only assume it was who his uncle had rented the guesthouse to, and the reason he was trying to clear the boxes from the garage so soon after he’d arrived in town.

  He pulled the earbuds out and let them hang from the neck of his shirt. “Krista, I assume.”

  “I am,” she confirmed. “What is all this stuff?” she asked, motioning to the contents of the garage. “Are you moving it out? I was told I’d have a place to park my truck and store my things.”

  “I’m clearing it all out now. I should have it done in a day or two. Then it will be at your disposal.”

  Krista looked around the garage, doubtful of his timeline. “Oh. Alright. If you say so. Do you work for Abe or something?”

  Sam scowled at her. “No, I don’t work for him, Abe is my uncle. And, in fact, I live here.”

  Krista took a step back and leaned against a dresser that was directly behind her. “What? You… you live here? Abe and Adeline never said anything about sharing this place. That won’t do at all,” she sighed in exasperation and pulled her phone from her pocket. “I need to call her and see if I misheard or something. I hate to bug Abe, he’s such a nice guy, but I can not share a house with a strange man.”

  “Calm down, I don’t live in the guesthouse. I’m in the main house, with my uncle. Believe me, I have no desire to live with a strange woman, either.”

  Krista stood up a little straighter and put her phone back in her pocket. “I didn’t know Abe had a nephew. I didn’t think he had any family. Other than Eli, though I know he’s not really related.”

  Sam let a small mocking laugh escape his lips. “How much did you expect to know in such a short amount of time? Didn’t do all your research, did you? Well, Abe has family. Keep that in mind while you’re out here plotting on how best to take advantage of this nice old man who lives in one of the biggest houses in town. Didn’t plan on family when you schemed your way onto his property, right after appearing out of nowhere, huh?”

  “What are you talking about? Scheming? I’m not scheming anything!” she answered. Her voice increased in volume with each word she spoke.

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m here; right around the corner, making sure Uncle Abe isn’t taken advantage of. I’ll be watching you.” He narrowed his eyes at her.

  “What in the hell is wrong with you?” Krista shook her head in disbelief. “Anyway… nice to meet you, Abe’s nephew, it’s been such a pleasure. I’m Krista, the girl who isn’t trying to take advantage of anyone. So… yeah. I’ll leave you to finish unpacking and I’ll be doing the same… over there, inside the house that I’ve rented from Abe, the man who’s entirely safe from any scheming plots against him.” She spun on her heels and walked out of the garage.

  Sam shrugged, satisfied that he’d made his point. “I’m Sam. Nice to meet you too.”

  Krista stomped her way up the three steps that brought her atop the front porch of her new residence. She unlocked the door, more than ready to inspect the inside, especially if it meant getting away from Abe’s nephew.

  After he heard the door to the guesthouse slam closed, Sam turned back to the box he’d opened before that annoying girl interrupted him and stared at the stack of letters inside. The envelopes had been carefully opened, and the pages lovingly replaced after they were read. They were sorted by date and had been stored in a shoebox. His mother had insisted he handwrite one letter a week and send it to her whenever they were apart during his summers in Cedar Creek. No typed up computer print outs or emails were allowed. She’d always left him at Uncle Abe’s with stationery when she went back home. There were three letters from each summer, starting after his grandparents had died, and ending sometime after he turned eighteen, when he’d finally insisted that an emailed letter was good enough. His mother had saved them all.

  Sam traced a finger across the tops of the letters, listening to the sound the envelopes made as they collided with each other. He brushed the wetness away from his eyes, took a deep breath, and closed the box.

  Krista parted the curtains in the front room and watched Sam as he walked back toward the main house. His head hung low as if he was staring at his feet as he walked. His arms hung at his sides, his hands balled into fists. Sam looked angry, he talked angry, and Krista wanted no part in that.

  She let the curtains fall back into place and continued her inspection of the house. She’d agreed to rent it before she’d even seen it, so she had no idea what to expect. The front room looked simple and comfortable, with a small couch, two cushy looking chairs, a rectangular table in the center of the room, and a wood-burning stove in the corner. Krista wondered how cold it actually got in Cedar Creek. Off to the right was the
compact kitchen, complete with a smallish fridge, three-burner stovetop, and an oven big enough to cook a roast; her grandmother had taught her the proper way to prepare a roast from the time she was old enough to stand on a stool and pay attention. A small table with four chairs occupied a rounded space at the end of the kitchen, and Krista noticed that the sink would need to double as her dishwasher, but washing dishes for one person was a task she knew her hands were quite capable of.

  She stood in front of the sink and gazed out of the window. The trees were abundant, and if she stood on her tippy-toes, leaned forward, and turned her head to the left she could see the creek. The sound of the water moving along the creek-bed was soothing. Flowing water was proof that things always moved on, and life wouldn’t stop and wait for you. You had two choices, you could move along with it or stay, but either choice meant change. If you moved along with the water, your surroundings would constantly change, and if you stayed in place, the water would move along and new water would arrive. You couldn’t avoid life and you couldn’t avoid change, because just like the water it just keeps flowing along.

  On the opposite side of the house two bedrooms sat side-by-side. One was tiny, with a twin bed and a four-drawer dresser filling up the space. The other was much more spacious, with a large bed, a long antique bureau with attached mirror, and a wide chair – perfect to curl up in and read a book – with a small table and lamp at its side. In front of the bed was a padded bench that doubled as linen storage. When Krista lifted the top she found a pile of comfy blankets folded up inside. There was a door in the room that led to another porch, with a clear view of the flowing creek.

  The house was perfect. It ached for someone to fill it up and put it to good use. Krista would do her best to, “give it some love,” just as Abe had instructed.

  Abe got up from his rocking chair and walked back into the house to figure out why there was so much noise coming from the kitchen. The clanging had reached his ears outside, which was worth investigating because the kitchen was in the back of the house. Maybe it was the fact that it was a quiet day or maybe it was because Abe wasn’t used to hearing off noises inside unless it was one of Martha’s days. Martha came every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday to tidy the place up and cook a little something for his dinner. But it wasn’t one of Martha’s days and, therefore, entirely too much noise was coming from inside.

  “Samuel, what’s all that racket?” Abe called out as he made his way to the kitchen.

  “It’s nothing. I didn’t mean to disturb you, you should go back outside,” Sam answered as Abe rounded the corner and appeared in the doorway.

  “I thought you were out in the garage going through your things. What’s got you all riled up?”

  “I don’t trust her,” Sam hissed.

  Abe opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of pop, twisted off the cap and sat down on a stool at the counter. “Trust who?”

  “That Krista girl,” he practically shouted. “Where’d she come from? What’s she doing here? What does she want from you?”

  “From the last place she lived. Working for Doc. A place to stay. I think that about answers all those questions. But you and I both know it wasn’t that girl out there that caused whatever’s churning inside you to blow up.”

  Sam took a deep breath and held it until his lungs burned before slowly letting the air out. “I opened a box and found all the letters I wrote to Mom every summer when she left me here. Every time I’ve ever been in Cedar Creek, I always knew I’d be going home to her. I’m not going home to her this time,” Sam’s voice cracked as he said the last few words. His attempt to remain calm was broken by the sudden rush of memories and the empty ache inside of him.

  “You lost her too soon, Samuel. Someone your age shouldn’t have to worry about losing his mom. Get yourself a drink and pull up a stool. We are going to sit here and do nothing but tell each other stories… all the wonderful things about our Sarah.”

  “It’s hard for me to do that, Uncle Abe.”

  “I know it is, but not talking about her will just make it worse.”

  “I can’t believe you don’t find that girl suspicious!”

  “No more mention of Krista until she joins us later, and then nothing but your best behavior. I won’t have that girl feeling uncomfortable after I invited her for dinner.”

  Sam’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You invited her to eat with us?”

  Abe took a slow sip from the bottle in front of him. “Did I ever tell you about the Thanksgiving when your mom was twelve, and my brother dared his little girl to jump into the creek?”

  Sam opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. “No. I don’t think I’ve heard that one.” He sat down on the stool next to Abe and twisted off the top.

  “Well, you know your mother loved to swim and that creek gets mighty cold by the end of November. I don’t think there was snow on the ground yet that year. Actually, no, there wasn’t, but it was icy cold that day. My brother was always teasing his little girl, though your grandma did her best to discourage him. He and Sarah, they had a connection that way. They loved to joke, and they loved to dare each other to do silly things. That man once ate a grasshopper because she bet him a nickel that he wouldn’t.”

  Sam laughed as he twisted the bottle around in a circle. He stared at the dark amber glass, and tried to picture his mother as a little girl, and his grandfather as a much younger man.

  “Well, that Thanksgiving, right after we were finished with the meal. Sarah declared she was so full that she felt like a puffer fish. Your granddad said, ‘Sarah, you can’t swim half as well as a fish.’ To which she replied, ‘I’m as good as any fish.’ And she puffed up her chest, just like that darn fish. ‘If it was warm,’ she said, ‘I’d show you what a good swimmer I am.’ So my brother smirked at her and said, ‘No time like the present.’ We all laughed, thinking it was a good joke. But Sarah jumped up from the table and ran right through this kitchen and out that door.” Abe pointed.

  “She did not.” Sam shook his head.

  “That she did. Your grandma got up and ran out after her daughter, calling her name over and over. ‘Sarah, Sarah, Sarah, get back here.’ Then we all got up and followed. We ran down the path to the creek and we found Sarah standing on that big rock down there, you know the one.”

  “Did she jump in?” Sam asked.

  Abe took another sip and then gazed out the kitchen window. “She spun around on the top of that rock, her new dress twirling around her legs. My brother was telling her not to get in the creek. Her mom was telling her to get down. My parents came trailing out, too old to be running anywhere, but they were shaking their heads with these huge smiles on their faces; they loved that girl. I just stood there laughing. Your mom had spirit, you could see it in her mischievous smile. Finally, she jumped down and said something about how we’d all had a nice walk, the exercise doing us all some good, and that she didn’t want to swim but was ready for pie!” Abe chuckled, remembering the moment.

  Sam took a long drink from his bottle and then smiled. “She always found a way to make people laugh.”

  Chapter Five

  “Go away,” Krista mumbled in her sleep, because the knocking in her dream was getting faster and louder.

  When her mind registered the fact that the pounding was truly happening, her eyes cracked open. She looked around the room she was in, and a moment of panic hit her when nothing seemed familiar, but it soon washed away as she took note of her surroundings. She’d apparently fallen asleep in her new bedroom and the pounding noise was coming from the front of the house.

  “Frig,” Krista groaned, uttering the only “F-word” her grandmother had ever allowed in her presence. She put her wrist near her face and tried to focus on the hands of her watch. It was seven thirty-nine. The pounding subsided into a woodpecker-like knocking and her head was beginning to pulse with the pattern. “I’m coming,” she yelled out.

  She stumbled through the house to the front door, bumping
into unfamiliar furniture, the placement not yet memorized. Her big toe caught the edge of the coffee table near the couch and she yelped with the pain.

  The knocking continued.

  “Oh. My. Lord!” she exclaimed as she swung open the door. “You! Of course it’s you. Thank you so much for the headache, the possible broken toe, and what I’m sure will be a bruise on my leg by tomorrow.”

  Sam stood outside the door, his hand paused in mid-knock. “I did all that? I hope we can keep this from Sheriff Tucker. Uncle Abe would be terribly disappointed if I were brought up on some kind of assault charges. You’re late.”

  “Dinner. I’m late,” Krista conceded.

  “Uncle Abe doesn’t like late, he likes prompt. He sent me to fetch you.”

  “Like a dog?”

  “His words, not mine.”

  Krista reached down to rub at her aching toe. “Let me get some Ibuprofen, and put some shoes on. I’ll be right over.

  Krista swung the door to close it, but Sam reached out and stopped it from shutting. “I’ll wait.”

  “Just go. I’m right behind you.”

  Sam leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Abe said to bring you. So, I’ll wait.”

  Krista grumbled and muttered under her breath as she limped back to the bedroom where she had left her purse, which contained a new bottle of Ibuprofen.

  When she returned a few moments later, Sam was in the exact same position. “Ready?” he asked.

  She didn’t answer; she just walked out the door and swung it closed behind her. She heard him catch the door and then she heard it close, but Krista didn’t look back once during the short walk up to the main house. She found Abe’s nephew annoying and wondered how she was going to make it through an entire dinner with the man. Be nice. Put a smile on your face. Krista repeated the advice her grandmother had often given her. It’ll get you through almost anything.

  Abe was sitting at the table in the main house staring at a still covered slow cooker that was waiting in the center. “You’re here! I almost started without you two. I could feel my body beginning to consume itself for fear of starvation.”