Dark Echo

Chapter 10

December 24, 2014, Alcott Estate“She"ll love it, Laura,” whispers gossamer lips.

She"ll love it, Laura,”“Yes, she will, Daniel,” Laura murmured, feeling a spectral energy surrounding her. Was it really him? Tears wet her cheeks, and she wipes her eyes quickly not wanting to spoil the girl"s holiday cheer. Laughter and chatter spill from the kitchen. Laura glances beyond the family room toward the girls preparing Christmas Eve dinner around the kitchen island. Grateful for their presence, she"s savoring every moment and dreading New Year"s Day when they leave. Laura recalls how empty the home felt when the holiday ended last year and wishes time could freeze. Carpe Diem slips into her mind, and she heeds its meaning.

Was it really him?Carpe DiemFor a moment, Laura admires the great Balsam Fir and then continues wrapping Callie"s gift. At the back of the tree, a small silver gift with a blue velvet ribbon catches her attention. Blue velvet, it can only be for me. Hmmm … No gift tag, that"s not like the girls. She picks up the package and notices a small card hidden beneath the bow. Laura Alcott is scribbled in an unfamiliar penmanship. A sharp twinge spreads across her palm. She drops the gift to the floor and swiftly pushes it under the tree. What was that? Curiously, she ponders the mysterious vibes it radiates, but only for a second as she continues wrapping Callie"s present.

Blue velvet, it can only be for meHmmm … No gift tagthat"s not like the girlsWhat was thatA loud creak splinters and crackles above, causing her to jump. Turning toward the kitchen, she notices the girls are sitting as they had before. She laughs at her jitteriness and resumes with final touches to Callie"s gift, admiring the lovely purple box embossed with crystals and sensing the soothing vibrations from the items within. Again, a creak pops louder than the first. Laura rises from the floor and stares at the ceiling. This time, the creak originated from the far corner of the room—upstairs in the master suite.

She places Callie"s gift under the tree, and cautiously enters the stairwell. She wonders if she should bring one of the girls with her, but her misgivings are embarrassing. “Laura, I swear, sometimes you worry me,” she mumbles. Buoyed by a surge of sensibility, she makes her way up the stairs and into the room.

At the threshold, she reaches inside the room, turning on the light. On the floor next to the bed lays a book. That"s odd … How did it get there? Picking it up, she returns the book to its usual place on the nightstand. Suddenly, Laura feels eyes at her back. Alarmed, she jerks her head around and stares into the hallway, expecting the source of her angst to appear. She stands frozen in place. The ephemeral sensation subsides but leaves her worried. Bringing her focus back to the bedroom, she scans every corner. The master closet she thought with alarm. With hesitant steps, she heads toward the vast dark space, dreading the deep recesses of its interior.

That"s odd … How did it get there?The master closetWith caution, she enters the room and slides the dimmer to its brightest level. Nervously, she glances around the room, afraid someone is lurking behind the expansive wardrobe. Separating items of clothing, looking below for feet, probing for eyes peering back, searching for a human form; she examines every suspicious shadow until objects become distinguishable. Walking toward the far end of the room, she distresses over the little alcove off to the right. A dressing area surrounded by mirrors and walls of deep dark glass cabinets, big enough for a person to hide. Before entering, she lights the chandelier, illuminating a wall of mirrors. Summoning her courage, she enters, circles the room, and inspects every cabinet—relieved to dispel her suspicions. But there"s still the master bath.

Heading toward the bathroom, again she performs an inspection, finding nothing out of the ordinary. “Well, Laura, what did you expect to find?” She mumbles, laughing at her silliness. But her instincts are screaming something"s not right. For days, she"s felt another presence. Rather real or imagined, the sensation has left her anxious. Every so often, floorboards creak as if under someone"s weight. Goosebumps crawl up her skin. “Stop it, Laura. You"re just scaring yourself silly.”

She exits the master suite, glances down the hallway, and up the staircase, debating whether to check the third floor. Down the hall, Sammie sits staring at her. He turns his gaze inside the room and back, signaling Laura to inspect. His stillness is chilling.

“Come here, boy.”

Like a stuffed toy, he doesn"t budge.

“Sammie?”

He remains unmoving. Softly, Laura walks toward him ready to investigate the room he guards obstinately. With a low growl, he jumps from his frozen state, taking off at a rapid speed down the stairs. Sammie"s sudden action is startling. Laura clutches her chest with a deep breath to calm her racing heart. She"s never seen Sammie run so fast, especially not down the stairs. Something"s spooked him. She reaches for the dimmer inside the room. Standing frozen as Sammie had a moment ago; she scans every corner and listens for noise.

Something"s spooked himShe steps toward the bed, clutches the bedpost, pauses a minute, and then performs the same examination she"d performed only minutes before in the master suite. No sound, no movement, “Nothing.” Turning the light off, she walks quietly trying to detect any unusual noise.

Tom

“Damn dog,” Tom mumbles listening as Laura makes her way toward the room. Sammie found and followed him to the guestroom, growling as he stood in the dark corner. Trapped, there was no choice but to hide. Just as Laura calls Sammie, he stops growling but sits guarding the room. Tom, ready to strike, picks up a tall candelabrum but changes his mind as she approaches. He scuttles under the large bed, holding his breath, tensing every muscle, ready to strike if he has to. Nervous sweat trickles down his face, and he hopes the dog won"t give him away.

Finally, Sammie scampers down the hall when Laura approaches. Chicken, he thought with a sigh of relief. He watches Laura"s feet from under the bed and holds his breath as she stands in the doorway surveying the room. Nervous beads of sweat gloss his forehead, dripping from his chin to the wooden floor. He stiffens when her feet approach the bed and he hopes she doesn"t look underneath. A silent sigh of relief escapes when finally she moves toward the bath and closet beyond. Just as a drop of sweat falls into his eyes, the light dims, and Laura walks out of the room.

Chicken,A few minutes later, her voice sounds in the kitchen. Quietly, he races to the third floor and into the attic—where he"ll wait until they"re all asleep. He has to leave the house before Christmas morning—before they open the silver gift.

The Girls

Down the stairs and into the kitchen, Laura feels more secure in the girl"s presence. Sammie has found a spot next to Leanne"s feet and stares up as she enters the room, detecting her nervousness. Over the gas range, Callie stirs a hearty soup while Leanne and Tara sit around the kitchen island sipping wine and chopping vegetables for the salad. Laura takes a seat at the counter, pours herself a glass of Merlot, and takes a sip to calm her nerves.

Although Callie didn"t hear Laura enter the kitchen, she sensed her presence before she spoke.

“A few minutes ago, I thought I heard something in the house.”

Listening to the familiar cadence of her mother"s voice, Callie detects fear. She turns away from the stove; aware of concern etched on Laura"s beautifully maturing face. “What did you hear, mom?”

“Well, for the last week, things have been happening.”

“Things? What things?”

“Sounds, occurrences … I keep hearing creaking floors. And doors I swear I closed, I"m finding open. Oddly enough, food is missing from the refrigerator. I thought perhaps the maids were helping themselves, but they knew nothing about it. I felt terrible interrogating them, but who else can it be?”

Laura is the most levelheaded person Tara knows. When she"s troubled the girls take it seriously.

Swiftly, Callie joins the girls around the island and asks, “Why didn"t you tell me, mom?”

“I wanted to rule everything out before I mentioned anything. This estate has been around a long time. Maybe the floors are settling, or maybe I"m so exhausted I forgot to close the doors. After all, I"m getting older. Maybe this is what happens at forty-five … forgetfulness.”

“Mom, what about the missing food, there"s no way you ate something and forgot.”

Tara doesn"t believe any of what Laura is saying. She senses she"s concealing her fear for their sake. “Laura, your mind is too sharp, and you"re too young to be forgetful. I doubt you"re losing your memory. Gut instincts are usually right. You shouldn"t ignore them.”

Leanne is aware of the conversation around her, but her eyes are transfixed at the far end of the island. Conscious of Laura"s fear, she scans the perimeter of the kitchen and the family room beyond. Suddenly, she"s filled with a new fear of her own. “Tara, I"ve meant to tell you about the odd fan Mountainhigh899. He"s back and creepier than ever.”

“Who is Mountainhigh899?” Laura asks.

“Oh, he"s a regular on AHD"s blog site. Lately, his comments are a little menacing which worries me.”

Tara takes a small bite from a piece of cheese and deliberates Leanne"s statement. “We should block him or her from the site. We don"t want our fans threatened by this creep.”

Leanne sighs. “I had the same idea, but it"s better keeping an eye on him or her.”

Tara wonders why but begins to understand Leanne"s logic. “Yes, you might be right, but you can still allow his comments to come through; just don"t make them visible to the public.”

”“I"ve already thought of making him or her invisible, but if they"re a threat censoring their comments might upset them.”

“Good, then maybe he"ll go away. It"s our prerogative to choose and restrict posts on the website.”

Leanne has her doubts, but leaves it alone for a while, not wanting to cause Laura any more anxiety.

Suddenly, the room is quiet with their silent fears. A presence Leanne can"t explain puzzles her as she stares at an area across from Laura. Laura hears Leanne"s thoughts and glances across the island, wondering what she sees. Taking a quaff of wine, Laura abandons the query. Jumping from the chair with a snap of her fingers, she states in commanding fashion, “Okay ladies, it"s Christmas Eve. Let"s enjoy the night before it"s over,” she says, trying to conceal her growing concern.

Taking slow bites from the cheese, Tara recalls the man at the gate a few days ago. But with mounting apprehension in the room, she snaps the image from her mind. With that thought, Callie, Laura, and Leanne"s heart jump as if in sync.

An hour later, the girls, stuffed from dinner, sit around the Christmas tree contentedly, listening to Tara"s favorite Nat King Cole Christmas classic—The Christmas Song. Tara tries to carry a tune as she sings along but her voice cracks on “Jack Frost nipping at your nose … Lah-lah-la … Hmmm-hmmm-hmmm …” The girls laugh, and Tara continues to hum the song.

Lah-lah-laHmmm-hmmm-hmmmCallie, like her mom, is the perfect host catering to her friend"s needs. “More pie, anyone?”

Tara glances at Callie"s little figure and down at her own full belly. “Honey, eat all you want. Your twenty-two-year-old body has a faster metabolism than my thirty-eight-year-old one. I"m trying to keep my mouth closed this holiday season. But, I"ll watch you enjoy every morsel.”

“Tara, you"re so thin. One more piece … Come on it"s Christmas.”

Tara shakes her head. “No,” and continues to hum to the music.

Callie peeks over at Laura and Leanne"s eager eyes. No words are necessary. Turning toward the kitchen, she comes back with the entire pie dish. After another glass of wine, Tara"s willpower vanishes, and in delight, she consumes the remaining chocolate-pecan pie.

Laura catches sight of the vexing gift under the tree. Eager to dispel the mystery she asks, “Are we ready to open gifts?” Before she has a chance to question the mysterious gift, Callie reaches for a large square-shaped box wrapped in exquisite abstract artwork with gold ribbons running from corner to corner.

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” Callie exclaims, placing the gift on her lap.

“Thanks, sweetie … Wow … Look at this wrapping. It"s too gorgeous to destroy,” she says while kissing Callie on the cheek. She pauses staring at her daughter, her spitting image at twenty-two.

Callie watches her mother"s careful effort to preserve the wrappings as she always does. Taking her time, Laura cuts the tape and pulls the ribbons free with careful hands. Callie wonders if she saves the wrappings for some other occasion. Tonight, she won"t rush her, but patiently waits as she unwraps her gift.

“Honey, where did you get this?”

Once again, seeing the painting for the third time rouses Callie"s emotions. She notices the bluish-green pool in Laura"s eyes. “A year ago, I found an old picture of you and dad in the big trunk in the attic. An artist friend agreed to replicate the photo into a painting. I had it framed in your favorite teak wood.”

Laura"s silence is telling. Her emotional state exposed with an inability to mouth her words. The painting suffuses her with images of that day—memories with Daniel sitting by the pond in the backyard. She was twenty-nine, and Callie was four-years-old when the picture was taken. “I remember this day so clearly. You were playing with Daniel"s camera and accidentally snapped this photo. Do you remember?”

Of course, she did. Callie recalls the day in the attic a year ago and how the memory entered her mind at the precise time she lifted the photo out of the old trunk. Sensations of being four again and running around the backyard as Laura and Daniel watched her appeared so real she held onto the picture for a long time. She memorized every vivid detail of her father"s features. “I remember dad laughing at me because the camera was too big for my hands.”

Laura"s eyes shimmer; a watery pool ready to spill. With her mother"s tears, Callie realizes she made the right choice.

Trying to disguise her emotions, Tara turns away from mother and daughter toward the tree. The emotional scene evokes distant memories of her father and grandfather"s phone conversation years ago in New York. Tara senses Daniel"s loss is still heartrending for Laura and Callie, especially during the holidays.

Under the tree, Tara searches and spies a burnt-orange wrapping tied with a leather tan string. She recognized the wrappings from her favorite handbag store and suspects the gift is for her. Ripping the wrappings to threads, she screams, “Yes!”

With watery eyes, Laura is a paradox, laughing and crying at the same time. “I thought you might like the bag.”

“Laura, this is way too expensive.”

“Never,” Laura insists. “For my best friends, there"s nothing too expensive. Now there"s enough room to carry everything, even your laptop. I"m tired of you carrying all those bags, dear friend.”

Tara loves the smell of new leather and takes a deep breath as if savoring her favorite dish.

Pulling herself from the painting, Callie discovers a crystal-embossed, purple box—a gift to her from Laura. She has an obsession with jewelry. And every Christmas Laura buys her something for her collection. Inside, she finds a white gold diamond, two-strand, drop Amethyst necklace.

“This is gorgeous!”

“There"s more,” Laura says. “There"re two satchels in the box.”

Callie opens the velvet drawstring pouch. A stunning blue Lapis-Lazuli pendant falls out. With her mouth agape, Callie stares mesmerized at the jewel"s brilliance.

While Callie admires her necklace, Leanne screams in excitement. “Yes, just what I wanted!”

Startled, Tara jumps with a swift turn of her head. “Leanne, you just woke the dead with that scream.”

Leanne, taking the statement literally; glanced for a second at the figure sitting next to Laura and Callie.

Tara stares at the box in Leanne"s hand and realizes what the excitement is about. “Okay, who bought her the iPad?”

Laura smirks at Tara"s expression. She knows Tara"s views on technology and senses her thoughts before she opens her mouth. “I did. You know Leanne; she"s got to have the latest and the greatest technology.”

“But she already has one.”

“But it"s basically obsolete,” Leanne explains, knowing how much Tara despises the yearly advances companies make in technology. Giddy with excitement, Leanne starts to disassemble gadgets that came with the iPad. “This is much more advanced than the one I bought two years ago.”

Tara shakes her head and laughs, understanding all too well her friend"s fascination with technology. But she can"t help teasing her about her obsession. She"s aware Leanne dislikes old objects; craving novelty, especially technology. “I don"t get why companies update technology every year. It"s a ploy to keep you techies buying,” Tara says with a silly face and a wink.

“Okay, ladies, this is our limit for Christmas Eve. We can open the other gifts Christmas morning like we planned, so, no peeking in boxes. However, I"m curious who the silver present with the blue velvet ribbon is from?” Laura waits for a response, but she"s greeted with silence. “Come on … One of you had to put it there.”

Flummoxed, the girls stare suspiciously at the gift, not a clue between them.

“How did it get under the tree if it wasn"t from one of you?” Laura asks, more perturbed than before.

Tara, noticing the bow; suspects it can only be someone who knows Laura"s love for blue velvet. “Did anyone from the office leave it here?”

“No one"s been in the house except you three and the maids.”

Callie and Leanne, sensing powerful vibes from the silver gift, sit stiffly peering in its direction.

“Mom, do you think the gift is from one of the maids?”

“Maybe, but in all the years I"ve had maids, not one has given me a gift.”

Ready to dispel the mystery, Leanne sighs impatiently. “Okay, this is an exception to our rule. The only way to find out who the gift is from is to open it.”

Given the odd occurrences in the home, Laura fears the gift"s contents. “No, girls, let"s wait till morning.” With a loud yawn, Laura glances at her wristwatch. “Wow, it"s late, and I"m exhausted. I think I"ll turn in for the night.”

“Me too, Laura,” Leanne says with an ensuing yawn.

Tara and Callie continue to stare at the gift, pondering its contents as it sits unrevealed. Laura and Leanne head to their rooms with thoughts of the unopen gift on their minds and a ballooning sense of fear. At the top of the stairs, they yell over the banister, “Goodnight, girls,” to Callie and Tara not ready for Christmas Eve to end.

“Goodnight,” rings in unison from the first floor.

Leanne makes her way down the long hallway to the guest room Sammie guarded earlier. “Goodnight, Laura, and thanks for my iPad,” she says with glee, hugging the box to her chest.

“Leanne, you"re worse than a child.” Laura throws her a kiss and enters the master suite with the mysterious gift pervading her thoughts. Moments later, she lies in bed with Sammie at her feet, his head straight up staring at the door. Laura ponders the evening—the creaking floors, the ever-present sensation of eyes watching her, Leanne"s news of Mountainhigh899, and the mysterious gift. She lies wide-awake listening for any unusual noise until she dozes off.

Tom

In the attic, Tom waits for Callie and Tara to turn in for the night. Earlier, the close call with Laura rattled his nerves, trapping him on the second floor as he tried to leave the house. Staring at his watch, Tom notices it"s almost four o"clock in the morning. What if they don"t go to bed? A few minutes later, the sound of closing doors and peace falls over the home.

What if they don"t go to bed?He leaves the attic, stepping cautiously onto the second-floor landing, hoping no one exits their room. The door to the master suite stands partially open. Dropping to the floor, he crawls on his hands and knees past the door. Down the stairs and into the kitchen he"s greeted again by Sammie making low menacing growls with teeth bared—ready to attack. Unafraid of the little dog, Tom inches toward the back door, keeping his gaze on Sammie"s face. Finally, on the veranda, he pulls the door closed without a sound, but on the other side, Sammie"s low growls turn into loud, continuous barks.