The Visitor (Graveyard Queen, #4)(60)
“What do you mean?”
“The first time he was sent away was because he let loose a colony in the school playground. They swarmed a boy that Micah didn’t like. One of the other kids swore he’d heard Micah whisper the boy’s name to the bees before he released them.”
“Was the boy all right?”
“He lived, but it was touch and go for a while.”
“And the authorities believed Micah had deliberately set the bees on him?”
“They believed he deliberately released those bees in the playground. That was enough to send him away, especially after a number of similar incidents. But enough about Micah. You should probably put something on that sting.”
I glanced down at the welt on the back of my hand. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m not allergic to bee venom,” I tried to say calmly.
“It’s not the poison from a single sting you have to worry about. It’s the alarm pheromones left behind on your skin to warn the other workers of danger. If the colony decides to attack, there’s not much you can do to get away. Even if you jump in water, they’ll just wait you out.”
“Thanks for the warning,” I said. “And for the directions.”
“No problem. Mind that sting,” he said. “If I were you, I’d be on my way before the colony gets wind of those pheromones.”
Thirty-Three
I didn’t let up on the gas or breathe easy until I was well away from all those bees. Once I no longer felt threatened, I started to worry about Dr. Shaw and the remoteness of Kroll Cemetery. I comforted myself with the knowledge that he wasn’t alone. He had at least one investigator with him.
Even so, I felt the need to warn him of my growing unease about the Kroll family. Micah wasn’t the only one who had left me unsettled. Louvenia Durant was an enigmatic woman who seemed haunted by her past. This alone was not enough to make me distrust her, but I did have to wonder about her guilty conscience and the falling-out she’d had with Ezra. If he really had cut her out of his will—a will that had never been found—then she was the one who had stood to gain the most from his death.
All of this rolled around in my head as I placed a call to Dr. Shaw. When he finally answered, I told him of my trepidation and then repeated Owen’s maze instructions to him to make certain that I hadn’t been deliberately misled.
“Directions don’t mean much in the maze or even in the woods,” Dr. Shaw warned me. “They’re both quite disorienting. I’ve never experienced anything like them. I think it best that I meet you at the end of the road and walk you through.”
“That’s probably a good idea, but please be careful, Dr. Shaw. Maybe I’m being overly cautious or even paranoid, but despite Louvenia’s invitation, I’m not sure either of us is particularly welcome here.”
His voice sharpened. “Has something else happened?”
“I’ll tell you all about it when I see you. For now just please keep an eye out.”
“You as well, my dear. I’m heading out now, but in case you arrive first, wait for me in your car.”
“I will.”
We said our goodbyes and then I turned my full attention to the road. The light shining through the windshield was warm and so bright I found myself squinting even behind sunglasses. As I came around the first curve, I slowed the vehicle, my eyes on the passing hedgerows as Owen had instructed.
Even though he’d been exact in his directions, I still ended up making three passes before I finally spotted the cross. It was set back from the road and so tilted from decades of wind and rain that it was nearly invisible against a backdrop of weeds and brambles.
The road to the farm was private so I didn’t have to worry about traffic. I sat with the engine idling as I searched for the entrance. From my vantage, the road looked to be nothing more than two dirt tracks disappearing into the trees. As I scanned the access, I detected the remnants of an old wrought iron archway covered almost entirely by ivy. The vines were entwined around and through the scrollwork so that the dangling curlicues provided a natural curtain over the entrance.
I made the turn cautiously, easing through the lush tendrils as my apprehension mounted. I’d been looking forward to a tour of Kroll Cemetery with Dr. Shaw, but now as I headed straight back into the forest, I couldn’t forget something he had said to me the other night on the phone. He had the sense that I was approaching a crossroads in my life, a spiritual turning point from which there would be no return.
I glanced in the rearview mirror. The vines falling back over the entrance seemed symbolic—like the closing of a door.
Taking a resolved breath, I forced my attention to the overgrown trail in front of me. It was cool and dark in the woods. I rolled down my window, allowing the intoxicating scent of honeysuckle to seep in, along with the woodsy aroma of the evergreens.
But as I drove deeper into the trees, a heavy stillness settled over the trail, a claustrophobic oppression that didn’t come from the heat of the afternoon or the closeness of the woods but from something unnatural. Quickly, I raised the window as if a layer of glass could protect me from those dark things that slithered through the underbrush. Things I couldn’t yet see but knew were there just the same. I tried to ignore my newfound perception, but the feeling of being watched, of being sought, grew more and more pervasive.