The Visitor(69)

I turned back to Dr. Shaw. “As long as I’m coming clean, there’s something else you should know. Do you remember the silhouette I told you I saw in Oak Grove the day of the dedication? I had a sense that she was connected to Nelda Toombs, that she might even be her dead twin, Mott.”

“I remember,” he said. “We discussed the possibility of your having experienced the Old Hag Syndrome.”

“I’ve seen her again. And now I know she’s not a vision or a hallucination or a waking dream. She’s real. She exists. Not as a human, not as a ghost, but as a being that dwells in the shadowy space between the living world and the dead world.”

“Half in, half out,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s an old saying about cats. They’re half in this world, half in the next. In mythology, if someone needed to enter the underworld, they would sometimes use a cat to guide them. Maybe it’s the same with Mott. She’s half in, half out. Neither alive nor dead but something in between.”

“It sounds crazy, doesn’t it? I mean, I’ve seen her. I know she’s real. I know she exists. But I don’t understand how such a thing can be possible.”

“As I’ve said many times, there are things in this world that will never be explained simply because we don’t have the capacity to conceive of them. The scope of our reality is too narrow. Your visitor at one time was as real as you and I. Flesh-and-blood real. Perhaps when she died, something of her essence was left behind. A physical and spiritual bond to her sister so powerful that rather than moving on, she evolved into something else. Not human, not ghost, but a being that retained enough of her humanity to mimic life.”

“What do you think she wants from me?” I asked.

“Undoubtedly, she’s another piece of Rose’s puzzle. We can only speculate as to her purpose, but if your calling is to help the dead move on, then maybe a being that’s half in and half out is the means by which the door to the dead world can be opened. In any case, I don’t think you have anything to fear from her. Think of her as your guardian and protector. I would surmise the gifts she’s left around your house are her way of making contact.”

“As innocent as all that.”

He smiled. “Sometimes the most obvious answer is the correct one.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I suggest we drive back into town and regroup,” he said. “If what you suspect about Micah Durant is true, I should warn my colleague. I don’t think it a good idea that any of us be alone in that cemetery.”

It was a sensible plan and one I agreed with wholeheartedly. But as I started the engine and eased onto the highway, I felt an almost irresistible tug from the direction of Kroll Cemetery.





Thirty-Nine

Once we were back in town, Dr. Shaw directed me to the bed-and-breakfast where he and his colleague had taken rooms. The house was a charming Tudor cottage located on a quiet, tree-lined street far from the hustle and bustle of the main thoroughfare.

I pulled up to the curb and parked, taking a moment to admire the colorful window boxes and beds of purple verbena that lined the flagstone walkway. Then I got out of the car and followed Dr. Shaw up the steps.

The small foyer was light and airy with a step down into a parlor furnished with a hodgepodge of antiques. Through French doors, I could see out into the garden where a woman in an old-fashioned bonnet clipped roses from well-tended bushes.

Nelda Toombs gave us a cheery wave as she placed her basket and clippers on a nearby table. She wore cotton gloves to shield her hands from the thorns and an artist’s smock that not only protected her clothing, but also partially disguised the hump on her back.

“How nice to see you both!” she exclaimed as she peeled off her gloves. “Louvenia said you might stop by. The guest cottage is ready and waiting if you require it for the night. It’s just across the garden.” She gestured to a pitched roof rising above a large magnolia tree. “I think you’ll find it cozy.”

“I’m sure I will.”

She cocked her head as her gaze flitted over my features. “Forgive me again for staring, but I find myself taken aback every time I’m in your presence. The resemblance to Rose is still so startling.”

“It might interest you to know that since our last meeting, I’ve learned that Rose was my great-grandmother.”

She smiled. “I’m not at all surprised. You must be Caleb’s granddaughter.”

“You knew Papa?”

“I knew about him, and only the little that Rose chose to share. She loved him very much, but as you can imagine, her son was a painful topic.”

“I would love to hear more about her, but I don’t want to be a nuisance.”

“You’re nothing of the kind,” she said warmly. “As I told you before, I like talking about her. And speaking with you is like visiting with a dear old friend.” Her eyes were still on me and I saw something flicker in the shadowy depths. Something that might have been meant just for me. “Even after all these years, I sometimes feel as though Rose and Mott are still with me.”

Was she trying to tell me that she had seen them, too? Or at the very least, felt their presence?

Dr. Shaw cleared his throat. “If you ladies will excuse me, I’ll leave you to your conversation. I’ve some phone calls to make.”