

### Evil Love

Copyright 2015 J Bennington

Published by J Bennington at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

About the Author

Other Books By This Author

Sneak Preview

Connect With Author

Chapter One

Ariel Jenkins cruised on her way home from her first rock concert in Boston. Traffic was thick and then thin on the Interstate, and she had listened to a radio station from Charleston, West Virginia for an hour and sang karaoke with the songs. She still had over 200 miles left to reach home in Cincinnati when she groaned and swore at the "Check Engine" light that blinked on to get her attention.

"This car's not that old! Come on, damn it! This is exactly what I don't need this far from home! See what happens when you take a vacation for fun? Next time, don't. GAH!"

She eased off the gas and checked all the gauges and other indicators on the dashboard.

Nothing obvious got her attention, so she looked at the light, hoping that it was out and would stay that way until she got home.

"I should be so lucky!" She sighed, and the light burned steady.

She checked the highway behind her and saw no cars. "Where did my travel buddies go? That's saved me in the past. Damn!" She checked in front of her and saw an exit sign a short distance away announcing, "Gordon, and Florence, 1 mile." Cars in the opposite direction were absent also.

"Well, Gordon it is. Where are all the cars when I need them? Hope this isn't going to end in a nightmare of cannibals and demons and such. I need to stop watching those movies, even if I like them."

She took the exit and stopped at the bottom of the ramp. A sign across the road revealed Gordon to the left, 4 miles and Florence to the right, 8 miles. The left direction also revealed gas, food, hotels, and hospital.

"Left it is. Welcome to Gordon, Ariel. Its population is nine and visitors equal one. Oh well. Just don't die on me, car." She patted the dashboard lovingly. "Hang in there until I can get you help."

The road was bland with hills on both sides, huge rocks, and an occasional tree then suddenly the landscape flattened, and trees, wild flowers, and tall grass adorned both sides.

"Not bad," she mused and rounded a bend to the right to see a long stretch of straight road and in the distance, a huge glut of cars and trucks on both sides of the road. She slowed when she neared them and checked the glowing orange light again.

"Okay! I see you! Hold on!"

The closer she got to the cars the slower she drove until she saw the sign. "Kesterson Estate Auction and Yard Sale. Today only. Cash or certified checks only. All sales final. Willy Benton Auctioneer." Many people crisscrossed the road to and from vehicles carrying goods and treasures.

"That's plenty of activity for a small place. I never shopped a yard sale in West Virginia. Convenient. Possibly satisfy two needs together. Hopefully, I can get some help from a friendly mountaineer for my engine warning light. Let's hope."

She pulled off the road at a break in the cars and shut the engine off. She dropped her keys in her purse and left the car.

Simultaneously, another car stopped and parked across the road from her, but in the opposite direction and a middle-aged man stepped out. He wore dirty denim jeans and a dark-green work shirt, both spotted with grease.

She looked both directions and hurried across the road.

"Howdy, ma'am," the man greeted her. That's a nice car you have. What kind is it? Never saw one like it in these parts."

"Thanks. It's a Pontiac Sun Bird. It's nice. It's flashy. Even so, right now, it's a pain in the ass."

He shoved his cap backwards and wiped at sweat on his forehead. "What ails it?"

"The check engine light came on, and I'm 200 miles from home. I'm worried about driving it, and I'm lost in this area of where to find a dealer or mechanic to help me."

"Check Engine Light, huh? Damned new computers want to control and take over everything." He studied the car from where he stood. "When was the last time you gassed up?"

"About 175 miles back east. It was a very isolated area with many huge trucks and rough looking men. I gassed up and got out of Dodge swiftly. Why do you ask?"

"Johnny Jump's Truck Stop. Good description. A lot of fights, drug deals, and arrests happen there." He handed her a business card. "Nick's the name. I'm a mechanic, as far as I can be these days. I asked because the gas door is open. If you didn't put the cap on all the way, that will turn the light on, every time."

He moved across the road, and she followed him. He pulled the door open, and the cap was just sitting on the spout. He turned it until it clicked.

"Any other indicators on the dash after it came on?"

"None. Wow! Oh, my gosh! You think that was it?"

"Stake my life on it, ma'am. You'll be okay to go on home. The light might go out or it might not. If it's on when you get home, the dealer can turn it off and verify that the gas cap really was the problem. It all depends on the computer if it does or doesn't. They're temperamental things. 'Minds me of my ex-wife."

"Good. That scared me a lot."

"Relax then. You'll be okay now."

"Thanks, Nick. I'm Ariel." She sighed and leaned against the car. "This is quite a turnout. Who was Kesterson?"

"Oh, that? That was Franklin and Estelle Kesterson's place. Franklin died nigh on 15 years back, and Estelle kept on plucking away by herself until two months ago. Then she passed on to be with him. They have no surviving relatives, so it's being sold by the county."

"That's a shame. Now that I'm relaxed over that light thing, I'll check out the yard sale part and then mosey on home. Thanks, Nick. You're so great."

"You're welcome, Ariel. If ever need anything around these parts, just give me a holler, hear?"

"I hear. I'll not forget you." She shook his hand and left him at his car.

She meandered through the barn, the garage, the yard, and the barnyard, sifting through tables piled with clothes, jewelry, cookware, dishes, glasses, and silverware. She bought a set of six butterfly glasses with actual butterflies underneath glass in the coasters, and a small serving tray with three butterflies. The set was a "must have" because they looked similar to the set her mother had before. Then there were pictures, furniture to be auctioned, clothes, and flower pots and vases and two beautiful urns on a table in the barn. One was red and one blue with identical pictures.

It was an oriental scene with a lonely pagoda sitting on top of a tall mountain. They were trimmed in gold, and had several green, gold, and black trees lining a narrow path up to the pagoda. Near the bottom walked a small, lonely looking figure They seemed far out of place on a farm in Gordon, West Virginia, but she liked them and added them to her purchased items.

She intended that to be the end, but she had to pass a table of quilts and blankets, and a beautiful quilt stopped her. A woman working the table told her it was a Double Wedding Ring Quilt that her mother had made for Estelle.

"And you know, the haughty woman never even said, thank you, and she probably didn't use it. It was still in her quilt chest wrapped in brown paper. It looks like it was never even unfolded. She was an ungrateful wench. I'd love to put burrs in her casket."

She bought it. She put her purchases in her trunk and returned to the sales tables. She bought a hot dog, chips, and homemade iced tea and mingled with the vendors and shoppers for a while and ended her experience by buying an old Bible, two other books, and three green hand-crocheted doilies with red tulips.

"Okay, Ariel. Go now. There's no need to buy a trailer to feed your weakness. You're safe and sound. Go."

She started the car and turned around to get back onto the interstate and ten minutes later the light went out.

"You're good, Nick. I'm happy to have found you. Thanks so much."

She stopped at a rest area and took some extra time to wash her face and sit at a table and sip some tea that she purchased to go from the sale. She parked near the Pet Walk Area, and it was in great use that day. A Cocker Spaniel on a leash held by a sturdy man paused near her car and sniffed at the tires and doors and dragged the man to the rear where it howled at the trunk. Soon seven other dogs surrounded her car, and all howled separately or in harmony as owners screamed, tugged and jerked on leashes to restore order and move on.

She approached her car when only the original dog and owner remained, and she swore when the dog peed on her tire.

His owner scolded him and looked apologetic to Ariel. "Sorry about that, ma'am. What do you have in the car, a deer carcass or some other meats?"

"I have a Bible, a quilt, some books, and a few other items I bought at a yard sale in West Virginia. I think it's strange for the dogs to carry on like that."

He shook his head and took $10 from his pocket. "This is toward a car wash. Sorry. He knows better, and I know it would piss me off. Good luck."

She took the bill and shook her head. "If you insist. Thanks. I need to get a move on."

She stopped no more until she was in her driveway and feeling wonderful to be home. "Now I know how mom and dad used to feel when they had been away for a few days or even hours."

Though she felt at peace, the traveling had taken a toll on her and she unloaded the car to the kitchen table and the coffee table and her suitcase in the dining room by the basement door. She locked the door, stripped as she walked down the hall, tossed everything in a corner and hit the bed to sleep instantly.

She woke sometime in the night, gasping for breath and fighting the bed sheets. She scrambled from the bed and stared at it like it were an alien thing trying to kill her. She shivered and closed her eyes and she saw it again in vivid detail. Her bed was a funeral pyre. Flames blazed up around her body, some as tall as 20 feet. Her body glistened from sweat and oozing fat. A squeal and hissing noise came from her left side, as a pocket of fluids erupted in a geyser and vaporized from the heat.

She opened her eyes and stomped the floor. "Stop it! Where did that come from?"

She glanced at the bedroom clock. "4:30. Wow! You crashed at 8 and never budged until now? When has that happened?"

She went to the bathroom, drank a glass of water, followed that with a quick shower and a change of clothes and went back to sleep swiftly.

.

She woke again at 8:30 and felt happy that she had the whole day to relax and recover. She timed it to return on Saturday and spend Sunday relaxing and hit the office fresh on Monday morning. "I feel groggy from that nightmare. Imagine going to work right now? I'd be ribbed about a hangover, a lover, getting old, unable to handle liquor, and who knows what else."

She prepared a pot of coffee and sat at the table to wait for the finished results. She looked at the Bible on the table on top of the doilies and moved it to a place mat when the coffee pot gurgled its readiness. She filled a cup when the kitchen and dining room windows dimmed with a huge noise.

"What is that?" She moved to the window near the table and pulled one curtain back to see her lawn, driveway, and sidewalk covered with black birds. "Starlings? Here? Since when?" She tapped the window and shouted, "Be gone! Go away!"

They took flight with a huge squawking noise and flutter of wings. They repositioned to the trees and any electric or phone wire that would hold them. Quiet was restored, but they went no further and they all stared at her house.

"Don't you understand English? Go away! Stop looking at me!" She opened the kitchen door, stepped to the porch, and screamed at them. That served her purpose and they made a hasty, noisy exit and disappeared to the west.

She turned back toward her door and at that moment her neighbor walked across the driveway with his miniature dog on one of his dailies.

The dog, Kujo, stopped, looked up the driveway, howled and barked at her as if she were a stranger versus a long term neighbor.

"How was your trip, Ariel? Quiet, Kujo. Behave yourself."

"It was wonderful, but too short. That's the way of vacations, huh?"

"That's the way it usually works. Did you bring the birds back with you?"

"No. That was a weird event. Don't like them hanging around. Don't feed them or entice them in any way. Why's Kujo barking at me? Is he getting senile in his old age and forgetting good things like me?"

"I don't know." John jerked the extendable leash and told Kujo to be quiet.

Kujo complied, but he walked backward until he reached the sidewalk and bumped into John's leg. He yelped and then dismissed her and her house to sniff the ground.

She let it all go and went back inside to fix breakfast. At the table again, she opened the Bible and read the first page inside the cover.

"Presented to Marian Rose Nelson on her graduation from Charleston University, June 10, 1864. We love you, daughter. You make us proud. James and Rosa Nelson."

"That was a long time ago." She inspected the outside of the book and decided it looked old and used also. "Well, I guess that's a good thing. It wouldn't hurt most people to read and use it."

She turned to the first page and read the opening sentence. "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth." She stopped there and moved it aside. "I know that. He made all the animals. He made the silly birds here a few moments ago, the dogs that have suddenly gone senile and crazy, and He made humans also. Wonder if that was His only mistake?"

She finished breakfast, dropped the dishes in the right side of her kitchen sink and stared out the window at nothing in particular. The sun shone brightly and she caught a movement of black to her left. She repositioned herself and saw a buzzard strutting through the neighbor's yard across the street. It stealthily moved around the tree by the street, peering in all directions at nearly every step, as if it expected an attack. It stood at the front edge of the pickup truck there and looked right and left as if checking for cars. Then it strutted forward across the street and snapped up something in the curb by her left neighbor.

She pulled the door curtain aside and watched it dining on a dead squirrel that she could not remember being there when John and Kujo passed.

"Gross! Just don't look out the door any more today."

She took her suitcase to the bedroom and unpacked it. She shook a plastic shopping bag of used clothes in her hamper and restored everything else to its proper place. She decided to make the bed when she noticed that the sweat from her pyre nightmare had left a salty outline on the sheets and pillowcases. She groaned and changed the bed sheets as she wondered why all the strange events with the animals happened, and why the nightmare? Fire was not one of her major fears. However, she did not want to be cremated upon death. "Just put me in a box and plant me. That's my wish."

On the way back to the kitchen, she snapped her fingers and tapped the wall. "Quilt. Let's spiffy the bed a tad. Yes. We'll feel better with a touch of class."

She fetched it from the living room and spread it over the sheets and one thin blanket.

"Oh, yeah! Enjoy this gift. It's a Double Wedding Ring, handmade in West Virginia, and 65-years-old. The woman said it was meant for married couples. Well, maybe it will work that magic on me and make me a couple. Ha, ha."

She rearranged and cleaned the mantle over her fireplace, washed the urns and positioned them to her satisfaction.

"Welcome to your new home." She glanced around the living room. "You really don't fit in here with my environment either, but I like you. To me, you add a touch of elegance and class to this lonely girl's life. So there. Welcome home."

She picked up the doilies and sniffed them. "You smell clean and I'm not going to hassle you this time." She dusted the end tables, put one under each lamp and one in the middle of the coffee table and sat a vase of silk flowers on it. She dusted her hands. "And there's another touch of class, and all for a buck fifty. That's a good deal at any price."

She washed the glass set and the rest of her breakfast dishes and dried one of them to fill it with ice water. She held it up to the sunlight and enjoyed the clarity and the intricate, colorful butterflies.

"Cheers." She took a drink and sighed. "Awesome. Another 2 bucks and they're so close to mom's that it's heartwarming. Wonder what happened to the ones she had before she died. Bet one of my sisters got them and threw them at her husband during the nasty divorces.

Wonder if they will ever speak to me again? They don't return phone calls, emails or Christmas cards. Don't even tell me to go die. Oh well. It's their loss. Their disowning me hasn't killed me yet. Losers."

The rest of the day she washed clothes, touched the Bible in passing and enjoyed the sight of her urns on the mantle. She took a nap in the afternoon and woke when she fell from the sofa.

She had the same pyre dream. However, there were two dragons trying to rip her apart, growling and fighting each other to determine which one would get the biggest pieces.

She scrambled up and could still hear them roaring. "No. That's not a part of the dream. What's going on? That's a dog fight! That shouldn't happen with all the leash laws in this area? Never saw a stray since I've lived here. I don't think so."

By the time she opened the kitchen door, the fight was over and all she saw was one brown dog chasing a multi-colored one down the street, both howling.

"Another weird episode to make me move selling this place to the positive side of the Do Next List."

At 5 o'clock, she opened her fridge door and closed it numerous times, trying to decide what to eat for dinner. She finally made a grilled cheese and took a tea in a butterfly glass, and bag of chips to the kitchen porch and sat in her webbed lawn chair to eat in the fresh air.

She finished and sat her plate on the floor and leaned back to relax in the dimming light. Something caught her attention, and a black cat sneaked around the edge of her neighbor's house and walked toward her car, and underneath it. It stopped, stared at her a moment, arched its back, hissed viciously at her and then zipped down the drive and out of sight.

"Same to ya, ass breath. Some animals have a lot of nerve. Trespass on my property and hiss at me like I don't belong here! You're so lucky I don't believe in having guns and air pistols around my house. Otherwise, the buzzard could mosey back for a midnight snack, ass breath."

She woke from the pyre dream again at 2 o'clock and heard another dog fight in the front of her house. She prayed for help in keeping her sanity until things returned to normal, where she worked, ate, watched television, surfed the Internet, and slept until she repeated the cycle.

"Lord, I'm a good girl. I don't play around with boys. I don't run the bars. I don't get arrested. I don't use drugs. I don't rip people off or steal from them. Please help me to find what's causing this and then help me to stop it. Please? Amen."

She felt the dampness that time, so she showered, changed clothes, and sheets before she slept again.

At 5:30, while still dark, she woke to another dog fight and then when peace returned she listened to two cats somewhere in her backyard squalling like crazy, engaged in their mating rituals.

"That does it! Today I'm calling the zoo and donating all the animals in the neighborhood to them. That includes any human sloths that are not quick enough. I'm done."

She snuggled down and waited for the alarm to go off at 7 before she got out of bed and prepared for her Manic Monday at Gillman, Trisher, and Wently law office where she functioned as the head paralegal. She gathered her purse, briefcase, and tea bottle and closed the door behind her. She stopped and grimaced at the rear car door. She opened it and dropped everything on the back seat, but could not take her eyes off the gift behind her car in the driveway. A short distance from the bumper on the concrete track lay a white furry dog's tail about a foot long.

"Just great!" she shouted and looked around her. She took a fallen limb from her dogwood tree and flipped the tail onto the grass, so she would not run over it. "I'll deal with you later. That's gross!"

At the office, her co-workers and her staff greeted her excitedly and wanted to hear all that happened on her vacation. They wished information on the boys she met, the dates and the parties she had. Was the concert worthwhile?

She started catching up on her backlog and after lunch, she paused when she heard a commotion outside of the building. She went to the window, separated a few of the Venetian blind slats and peered outside. Two trees were packed with Starlings, and a cloud of them twisted and wove in the air, waiting for a chance to join them and finally chose the ground.

"What's up with these freaking birds?" she asked, half to herself. She did not hear or notice Stephanie approached her.

One flew from the tree and hovered in front of the window. "We came for you. You won't run away this time. We have a special funeral pyre with your name on it! Burn, baby, burn!" It flew into the window pane with a loud thump and dropped from sight.

"What birds? What's up, Ariel?" Stephanie touched her shoulder.

She screamed, and her arms jerked wildly. She started to fall, and she grabbed a handful of blinds and tore down the whole section as she hit the floor screaming and bending slats trying to free herself.

Stephanie cut a hand clearing herself, and she scrambled away from the wild woman as other women moved from desks to watch versus trying to touch her.

Jack Gillman stepped inside the office and assessed the situation. "What's going on here? Ariel, are you okay?"

She calmed down when she heard his voice and knew that she was the reason for his concern. "No. I'm sorry." She glanced to all the worried faces watching her. "Will someone help me? I'm calm and not a danger to anyone."

Stephanie and he both reached her at the same time and helped her stand from the mess.

"What happened?" asked Jack.

"I zoned out watching the starlings, and Stephanie frightened me. Sorry."

He motioned toward his office. "Go into my office and sit down. I'll be there in a moment."

She nodded and complied without looking at anyone.

"What's that about?" he asked Stephanie.

"Don't know, sir. She's been zoned-out, quiet, and somewhere else all morning. There was a noise outside, and she looked out and said something about starlings. Both trees were packed with starlings then. I saw them. One flew and hit the window. It didn't frighten me. However, when I touched her, she went crazy. She tore the blinds down, and she mentioned something about a pyre a few times. Then I chose not to touch her again."

"Starlings?"

"Yes. It happens quite often, but it's no big deal. They're birds. That's what they do. Swarm, fly, and land to color things temporarily black, but I've not seen them that close to the building before. Usually, it's on the way to work or going home, but not here."

"And a pyre? Do you mean a funeral pyre, like burning the dead?"

"I have no clue what she meant by that, sir. I didn't want to get involved at that time."

He nodded. "Okay. Call building maintenance to reinstall the blinds and then get back to work."

When he closed the door to his office, she still cried. He paused beside her and decided to lay a hand on her back and spoke.

"Calm down now, Ariel. You're okay."

She sniffed wildly and leaned back to rest her arms on the chair. "Sorry. I didn't do that on purpose. It's embarrassing."

"Don't worry about it. No damage was done. Stephanie said something about the starlings and a pyre. What's that about?"

"Don't know, sir, but I wish I did. Since Saturday evening, it's been birds flocking my lawn and drive, dog fights, nightmares of being burned on a funeral pyre, a buzzard eating a squirrel in the street, a black cat hissing at me, and a dog's tail in my drive from the loser of the last fight. I don't know. Wish I did."

"Hmm. And what did you do before that?"

She told him.

"Well, I can't see any connection with what you've done. Go to a concert, stop at a yard sale, make some harmless purchases and then this? Don't know what to say, but it's not you."

"Thanks for your support. That makes me feel better."

"You rarely take off for any reason. And you're an excellent manager. You usually have use or lose sick days every year. So, I'd like to take care of you, since you're obviously shaken from the weekend events. How about you take another few days, the rest of this week, and forget about the work here. Maybe the idle time without stress of reporting to work might help you. I don't mind. I'd rather do that versus having repeated performances in the office like now."

"Well, I guess I should. I'm glad we had no clients there at the time. That would not be a good encouragement for doing business with us."

He smiled and nodded. "Okay. Go to your desk and fill out a leave request for one week and bring it back. I'll approve it, and we'll see you here on next Tuesday. That will give you eight days to relax versus driving. Is that fair enough?"

"That's beyond fair, sir. Thanks."
Chapter Two

Ariel had three drinks of gin and tonic, and she slept soundly but did not escape the nightmare again at 3 o'clock.

She stood beside the bed and pulled at her sweaty tee shirt. "This is ridiculous, but I will win over this nightmare. I will not be burned on a pyre by anyone. Not when I'm alive and not when I'm dead. Hear me?"

She dried off in the bathroom without a shower and changed clothes. "No sheet changes tonight. Get over it. I'll have another drink to settle my nerves and worry about that tomorrow. Well, today."

She had her hand on the dining room light switch when she froze and stared at the living room. Each of the urns glowed softly, like a light was inside.

"What the hell?" She left the light off and walked a gentle path to the mantle, touched each one and stepped back. "What the hell? What do they call this? Effervescent? No. Phosphorescent. It glows in the dark. Light charges it up and it glows until it stops, or it gets light again. Neat. Why didn't I notice that before? Duh! Because this is the first time you've seen them at night. Ka-Ching! It adds to their value, huh?"

She turned the living room lights on, and they looked normal. She shut the lights off and they glowed. "Neat. I love it. I'll be back in a few minutes to enjoy you some more." She blew them a kiss and went to mix one drink as she promised herself. "I know it's not necessary, but I'm free from work for a week. So there."

She took it to a spot before the fireplace and sat on the floor. There was no safe place for the drink, so she held it in her hand and took turns gazing at each one. She relaxed and studied them intensely. "You're intrinsically beautiful. I love the way the picture turns all black when you glow. Were you designed by a famous artist? Did he or she leave a signature? I'm too tired tonight, but tomorrow, I will inspect you for a signature. Too bad I can't call Estelle and find where she bought them. This is awesome. The dreams of being burned alive are not great. Starting now, we'll lose the negative dreams and events in the dust and cling to positives only. We will be calm, and nothing will put us on the floor in a pile of blinds and make us look like a foolish ninny. Hear me? Thanks."

The remainder of the night was uneventful, and she woke at 9:00 for a late cup of coffee and a brunch. Then she called the Animal Control Office and requested a visit about the dog fights. She was not sure how swiftly they would respond, so she sat at the table and read the first chapter in the Bible and closed it as he pulled into the drive.

She hurried to the porch to greet him.

"Morning, ma'am. Uh, Ariel. What you got going on here?"

She pointed to the lawn. "That's for one. I've had three dog fights here since Saturday, and it's getting on my nerves."

He nudged the tail with his foot and got a picker from his truck and a plastic bag to take it with him. "And you don't own any dogs. Hmm. It must have been a mighty big dog to leave a tail this thick and long. It was probably a mixed breed. Most likely a stray, but I'll check with local vets to see if anyone brought in a dog for a tail repair."

"Good. Thank you."

"You say it's three since Saturday? Anything else?"

She told him about the buzzard, the cat, the cat mating, the bird flocks, and the incident at work.

"Strange. I don't quite understand it all. You feed birds and animals?"

"No way. I don't own pets. I don't feed birds. Don't pick up stray cats. Don't like animals in general. Don't even like goldfish. That's why this is bugging me so much. If I loved them and wanted them it would be different and I'd take it with a grain of salt."

He took a business card from his pocket and wrote on the back before giving it to her. "Well, I'll do what I said and this is what I recommend. Buy it at any lawn and garden center and follow the instructions. Don't know about the birds, but cats, dogs, rabbits, squirrels and the like will avoid your place like the plague lived here. Rain will wash it away, so you might have to repeat it, but they'll get the message. Enemy lives here. Avoid."

"Okay. Thanks, sir."

"And I do spend time on patrol. So I'll drive through this neighborhood once a day over the next week to see if I spot any strays. If I do, they'll disappear."

Back inside the house, she moved both urns to the dining room table to inspect them with a magnifying glass. Their surface impressed her. It appeared that both pictures were painted by hand, not printed from a negative. And the similarities between the two were very precise and seemingly impossible, but proof was there before her. She ruled out going to an art expert for a while and felt disappointed in not finding a signature.

A closer inspection of the tops revealed that they were not molded, but separate pieces.

She got a metal nail file and with a little work, she got the debris that seemed like a dried glue from the trench around the top of the red one and worked the top free. She did not know whether to be elated or concerned so she shone a light inside and could see nothing, but it appeared to be lined with a gold film. She tilted it to nearly a 45-degree angle and some black ashes mixed with white micro bits drifted to the newspaper she had placed beneath them. She righted it instantly and stared at the ashes.

"No! Stop! Don't tell me that! This can't be human ashes!" She released the red one and turned the blue one on its side where she could see the bottom. "Mark Kesterson. June 2002. Rolland and Rawlings Funeral Home. Oh, fuck!"

She scrambled away from the table and stared strongly at the urns, willing them to disappear. They did not.

She stood several minutes before she found the courage to return and gently picked up the paper with the ashes. She carefully put them back inside, replaced the top, raised it above her head and read, "Marta Kesterson. June 2002."

She sat it gently on the table, stared at them sitting side-by-side and considered what she had gotten into by stopping at the yard sale in Gordon, West Virginia of all places.

She returned them to their place on the mantle and pulled the Bible to her again. She shuffled through the pages until she reached the area between the Old and New Testaments. As she hoped, she found the Family Tree. She spent an hour reading and pondering he tree from Rosa's and James's parents down through Franklin's and Estelle's marriage and children, Marta and Mark. They were born on the same day, January 4, 1985 and no date for death. Both names had a bright red X through them.

"You had to die sometime, else you'd not be sitting on my mantle now. What is going on here? What have I got myself into? Wait! You both were cremated in June 2002 so you both had to die that month. Whoa again! Whoa, damn it! You were both born on the same day? You were what? Identical twins? This is more eerie, Ariel. Stop it. Garbage day is tomorrow. Drop them in the container, and put them on the curb. Get rid of this nightmare before it wrecks your life. You're out only five bucks and oh well."

"Good solution. I feel better already. She picked up Marta's ashes and headed for the garbage can. She made it as far as the kitchen door and stopped. The inner door was open, but an invisible barrier prevented her from touching the outer door knob.

"What the wiggle is going on here?

She went immediately to the living room door and discovered the same situation.

She returned both to the kitchen table and talked to them. "What is going on here? What are you two? Are you doing these weird things to me? What do you want?"

She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Just stop it." She shook her head and groaned. "Why are you sitting here talking to urns, Ariel? You stop it."

"And while you're at it, stop the damned yard sales, alright? It's okay to let someone else end up with nightmares and heartaches and mysteries. Really, you can live without that habit, Ariel."

She rubbed her fingers over the Bible. "We should really read the entire thing. We might learn from it." She refolded the family tree page, picked it up by the covers and shook it upside down from left to right so the pages flopped and separated. Three pieces of paper dropped onto the table. She read two and lay them aside. "I guess we should adhere to the adage, let well enough alone. Stupid. Nonsense. Why discover more questions than I find answers? I hate the world sometimes."

She wandered to the back porch, and the same black cat crawled through the fence from her neighbor's yard. It appeared not to notice her and tiptoed across the yard toward the next neighbor's fence.

Ariel picked up a small flower pot and readied herself. "Yo, pussycat! Yeah, I'm talking to you, little bitch! Didn't I tell you a day ago to stay out of my space? I hate repeating myself." She enjoyed the sudden stop, cringe, and the snap of the head in her direction. She flung the flower pot and it missed her by an inch or so and all she saw was a black streak through the neighbor's chain-link fence and she laughed until she cried.

"Come on back when you want to play again, ass breath. I'll be your laxative. I'll make you shit and get! Yes!"

She got herself under control and sat down on her chaise. "Ariel, you're losing it. No. I'm not losing it. That felt good to laugh and enjoy the fear I instilled in that cat." She laughed again. "Yes. Wonder what she'll tell her children, if she has any, if she knows she has any. Oh well."

She checked her watch. "It's a little after noon. Do we want lunch? No. We pass." She looked at her chaise with a burning desire. "Should we dare?" She looked at the sky. "The sun is no longer overhead. I can get shade from the neighbor's tree soon. We do it."

"Please, God who created mankind and let them procreate and prosper down through the decades until I was born. Please watch over me. I did not ask for this disturbing affair I seem to have acquired. Give me strength and guidance and help me to resolve it to Thy satisfaction. Amen."

She adjusted the recliner top as far down as she could and lay back. "Marta. Mark. Enjoy your new home. I'm on your case now. Relax and don't drive me crazy as I devote all my time to unravel the mystery of your death and your pain. Be patient. You've stumbled on a bulldog, either by accident or design. Relax now, and let me work without nightmares."

She woke rejuvenated at six o'clock to a dimming, cool sky. She stretched and sat up to view her environment. "Wow! I didn't mean to sleep so long outside, but I guess I needed it. Don't remember dreaming anything."

She hurried to the kitchen. "Wow! I worked up an appetite. Well, it's been a long time since breakfast and what you had won't last all day, no matter how yummy it tastes."

After 10 minutes of opening cabinets, fridge and freezer, she returned to the chaise lounge and sat sideways. "Lord, I know me, and you know me far better than I know myself. I've bitten off more than I can handle here. If it's not in Your plan for me to join all the deceased in the world early, give me strength and guidance and I'll work for you. Send me to correct whatever horrible wrong has been committed, and I will do what is within my capability to correct it. Please stop the Funeral Pyre dream unless it's for my benefit. If it is, then I beg you to stop the violent reactions to it that deter my physical and mental strength to carry on. I'm here. I'll respond. Use me. Amen."

She went back inside to her junk drawer and found a menu from a local deli that made deliveries. She ordered a loaded cheese steak sub, steak fries and two slices of pepperoni pizza.

Eight o'clock arrived too early for her and waking on the chaise lounge worried her, but she was not hungry and wonderfully free of any nightmares. Her evening meat binge satisfied her stamina craving. She showered and dressed and made a pot of coffee. While it perked she made a phone call.

"Hey, Nick. This is Ariel, the wandering chick with a hurting Sun Bird. Remember me?"

"Yes. You're a small frame woman, with rusty hair, and piercing dark eyes. You are unforgettable. Did the light go out?"

"It did about ten minutes after I left the yard sale. Thanks. Do you have some time to talk with me? I've got many questions and few answers and I need your help. Not with my car, but with me this time. You game?"

"I'm the lawn dart game. We play until somebody gets hurt. This is the first morning in 16 years that I have no customers and all empty bays. Your timing is impeccable. Start questions."

"How well did you know the Kestersons?"

"As well as anyone in these parts. They were basically the hub of the community. They were involved in nearly everything and every part of the community life. He owned several banks and insurance companies. They were active in church, Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, 4H, FFA, State Fairs, you name it, they were there. Energetic folks if ever a couple existed. Why?"

"I'm not sure. Lots of weird and nonsensical things have happened to me since I left Gordon. So, let me tick off some of my questions. Were Marta and Mark identical twins?"

"You bet your bippy, they were. Marta was born first. Mark was born about 20 seconds later. Doctor and nurse joked about it for years. They said that Mark was hot on Marta's ass because of the short time. It made a hectic delivery. They hurt Estelle a bit, but they both survived."

"That answers one of my questions. What happened to them? I remember you said there were no surviving heirs or something like that. Where are they?"

"Don't know. No one knows. Franklin died nigh on 15 years ago. The twins disappeared about a year or so later in 2002. One day, they were in school and the next day they were not. No one ever saw them again."

"Eerie. Very eerie. Just disappeared? Impossible. Do you know that the easiest way to hide something is to place it in plain sight where people overlook it every day because they're too familiar with it?"

"That was a good piece of jawing, ma'am. I know what you mean, but they disappeared. They weren't hidden. Most folks believe they ran away, but they were gone. They were reported. They were mourned and sought after. They just disappeared. Eventually, they received a mock burial so Estelle could get on with her life. Now, why? Why do you want to reopen old wounds? I thought better of you."

"Because I bought two urns at the yard sale, and I have their ashes in my house. Mark's name is on the bottom of the blue one, and Marta's name on the red one. They were obviously cremated, but I have no clue as to the cause of death. That would be an excellent reason for disappearing and being hidden in plain sight."

"Dang! I reckon you're right on that. Urns? Are they the red and blue oriental ones from her sitting room?"

"I guess so. They were on a table in the barn when I bought them."

"Well, they were in the house, and I know many people talked about her strange taste in buying them. They didn't match her decoration themes nary an inch."

"Yep. They were hidden in plain sight. Who got the farm or parcel of land?"

"No one. That was the last thing put up for bids, and Willy couldn't even get a $500 offer. I left before he started, but other people told me. He said it was the first time for him and the weirdest thing he ever encountered. He kept coming down from $90,000 and people just wandered off. When he gave up and ended it, there were less than a hundred left. Then it was only Billy."

"So it's sitting there gathering dust and growing weeds. That sucks."

"That's about it, Ariel. Let's back up a tad. You sure they were cremated?"

"There was a receipt in the Bible from a Roland and Rawling Funeral Home for $4000 cash on June 12, 2002. The cash was received from Estelle Kesterson for two cremations. It was $3000 for the cremations and $1000 for the urns. The lining is supposed to be gold. I won't check on that. I'm no longer interested."

"Man! I'd never have believed it, but hearing it from you is convincing and rather a shock, ya know? You're on the outside of anything related to Gordon, so why lie? What are you going to do?"

"Today, nothing but think and clean my house. Give me the address of the Kesterson estate if you know it. I'll add some research into my routine. Mm, do you ever recall a fire on the estate?"

"Fire? Well, come to think of it, the barn burned during the summer of ought two. It was in the middle of the day. It took two fire companies to put it out, but they managed. The one there now was rebuilt the next year. I never understood that move. I mean the cattle were all gone; she had ho horses; why rebuild? However, she sure did, and she pissed off half the state in that deal. She hired Amish people from Pennsylvania to build it for her. She paid them instead of local folks that damned sure could use the money. She was a bitter ass woman."

"Well, maybe they died in that fire."

"Don't think so. Only death was my brother-in-law, Jack, who was a volunteer fireman."

"Darn. Well, thanks for your help again, Nick. I'll call you later this week. I may have more questions then."

She fixed lunch and ate at her computer. She typed in the address into Google Earth and watched the world atlas turn and zero in on a tiny red dot in West Virginia. She kept scrolling down closer until she could see the roof tops and fairly defined area lines. She counted seven buildings: the house, the garage, the barn, and four others. She moved the mouse around and well in back of the house she discovered a small area that appeared to be fenced. She scrolled down as far as she could and gave a thumbs-up to what appeared to be tombstones. She counted 18 in the block of land.

"Eighteen minus two that I have here. I'm sure Mark and Marta will have markers there, after they were mock buried to let Estelle rest."

Her next stop was the county administration office for Gordon and after 45 minutes of following links and instructions, she found what she wanted. "It was nearly 20 acres; 19.75 to be precise. It was zoned as prime land for farming, livestock raising. Included are house, garage, barn, wood shed, chicken coop, and two pole barns. Estate auction failed. Call Henry Latterby for any information or comments."

"We'll try the e-mail function first, then voice if necessary. I want to save voice for scaring the cat. She's going to turn white soon." She sent an email requesting information on a reasonable price, how a sale would be handled, and if the fenced in area at the back of the property was a family graveyard.

"Not a bad start, Ariel. Now for a nap to relieve some stress. We get back on schedule starting tomorrow. She paused at the hallway and looked to her bedroom and then the rear porch and chaise. "Why throw away a good thing? It seems I don't dream there. The chaise lounge wins this one. Go."

Two hours later, she woke with her jeans unzipped and her right hand was in her pants as she dreamed of a sexual interlude with the mailman.

"Huh? Where did that come from? We don't have boyfriend problems 'cause we don't date. And we never dream of sex with men. Why now? Is this coming from the same place as the nightmares of being on a pyre? Is it from the urns?"

"Whatever. For now just stop it and get on with the day."

A check on her e-mail showed a response from Henry.

"Ms. Jenkins. Thank you for your requests.

1. The land will sit as is for six months unless sold. The county will attempt to find a corporate buyer, but in this rural area that's not likely, and we would prefer it to continue as farm/agriculture zoned. Then the buildings will be cleared, and it will revert to nature, unless there is any further interest. It might also be retained as county property and developed as a park/playground/picnic area.

2. Yes, there is a family cemetery on the plot of ground. It's been in the Kesterson family for 200 years.

3. Proceeds from the sale and auction covered all current expenses, but nothing remains for next year at which time the property will be condemned if nothing changes and possessed by the county, and Item 1 will be in effect.

4. You failed to ask one question which I will answer anyway. If you are interested in purchasing the property, I will attempt to negotiate a reasonable offer for you. In some cases, as this one, we would accept the price of the assessed value of $35,750.00 versus full retail value due to the age, and location of the property and the current condition.

Thank you and have a most wonderful day.

Henry Latterby

"What? You answered that and I never even considered it. Or did I? I guess that any such request could be interpreted as a possible investor versus being nosey. Hmm. Interesting. It's not even close to the sex dream, but." She clicked to her home page and typed in Realtors in Cincinnati and chose Happy House from a list of 31 because of the title and made a call.

"Hello, Kate Buckner. I'm Ariel Jenkins and I'm new to buying and selling real estate. What I think I need is an evaluation of my house to see how much it's worth if I wished to sell it? I'm considering an out-of-state property purchase and I might need collateral. Can you swing that in such matters?"

"It's possible. Let's start with your address and make an appointment to visit and see what you have to work with, on both ends."

She relinquished the address, made the appointment and went to her bed versus the back porch.

The judge slammed the hammer wildly and shouted for quiet. "Once more and I'll clear the courtroom. All of you, quiet! Ariel Miranda Jenkins, you've been charged with 57 counts of unlawful sexual intercourse with married men, married and single women, teenagers, and children. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty. It's impossible for me to do all that."

However, one by one all the men, the women, two wives and the teenagers described the acts in detail, and in the end, she lost.

She stood once more before the judge in a now silent and anticipating courtroom.

"Ariel Jenkins, for all of the lewd sexual acts and unbridled sexual immorality, you have been found guilty on all 57 counts and are sentenced to be burned at the stake within 20 minutes in front of this courthouse for public viewing. This court takes pleasure in ridding the moral community and the world of sexual tramps like you. Case closed. Court adjourned."

She protested but she was handcuffed and held by two strong female guards.

"Gonna light your ass up for real, honey," whispered one. "Enjoy."

"Thought you were hot before, just you wait, sex bunny. Can't wait for the screaming to start," said the other.

They dragged her outside and tied her to the stake and piled kindling and logs underneath her.

She protested until she looked beyond the guards to temporary bleachers on trailers that were filled with hundreds of people. Some held signs, Burn the Slut!, and "Death to whores! Squeal like the pig you are, Ariel!" She shook her head in denial and shouted her innocence until the heat from the flames rushed up across her stomach and made breathing difficult.

She jumped from the bed screaming, and huddled on the floor by her hamper, waving at the flames she could still feel. She breathed deeply and wailed for several minutes before she calmed enough to stand.

"God, this has got to stop and soon. I'm sorry. I didn't know. They were just there and they look so beautiful." She stripped off her tee and panties in the bathroom and dried with a towel. "I'm so tired of this. Just the cleanup is wearing me out. Not today."

She set the alarm for one hour, chose a large towel to cover the sweaty area and lay down again.

The front doorbell ringing and someone knocking alternately roused her. She groaned and checked the time. "10:30? Kate' s coming at 12:30. Who? Salesman? It's his or her luck to bother me now! Twist their head clean off!" She jerked open the window and shouted. "What? What do you want? Can't you come back like 3 years later?"

"Ariel? It's Stephanie. Will you please talk to me? We're worried about you and you won't answer phone calls or e-mails. Please?"

She hurried down the hall and opened the door for her guest.

Stephanie stepped inside and confronted her straight away. "Ariel, are you okay? Really okay? You're getting a lot of people worried about you. For real! What's going on, sweetie?"

"I'm not okay, Steph. I haven't been okay since the last day of my first vacation. Don't know if this one's working or not. Why?"

She shrugged and smiled faintly. "Um, we could start with you being naked."

She looked down at herself. "Oh, that. Sorry if it offends you. When you're burned at the stake, being clothed is not an option. The witnesses like to see the skin char and melt, hear the fat cells sizzle and pop, and so on. Come on in, Stephanie. I'll talk. Make either tea or coffee, whichever you can find in the kitchen. I'll get dressed and join you."

She returned with shorts and a tee on and sat with her back to the living room.

"Tea was the best."

"Fine with me. I'm a slut, but I'm not picky. Water would have worked. Burning dehydrates you severely."

"I can't believe that. Why were you burned?"

"For being a sexual slut. A lewd unbridled whore."

"You? You're the prey for half the boys in the county and you're still a virgin as far as I know. How could you?"

"It was a dream, but there I was accused and witnesses nailed me. Had sex with my dad, my brother, the mailman, three pizza delivery men, three lawyers at the firm, even your dad. And your mom was one of the biggest witnesses against me. She said I tied her up so she could watch me do your dad.

"Then I was on the stake, the fire was lighted, and I was well on the way to being done until I woke to the doorbell and knocking."

Stephanie kept listening to her but her view was captured by the mantle in the living room. "Where'd you get those? They're beautiful."

"What?"

"Those urns. They weren't here the last time I visited. Where did you get them? They're expensive items."

"In West Virginia. Why do you say expensive? Cost me $5 for both."

"They're burial urns, right? They're to hold the ashes of people who are cremated after death. Do they have ashes in them?"

"How do you know that?"

"I have an aunt in Florida who works in a military mortuary. She showed me pictures of what they could offer these days. Urns, photo frames, ball pens, even bobbles for bracelets and necklaces. Really weird. Do they have ashes in them?"

"Didn't know you were up-to-date on them."

'Do they have ashes in them?" she asked again.

Ariel slapped the table and stood so swiftly she knocked her chair over. "Why do you keep asking that? Why? What's wrong with you?"

"Because of your strange and abnormal behavior. A flock of birds followed me from the highway to your house. They settled on the ground and then flew away when I opened my car door. A black cat sat on your front porch steps, hissing at the door and scared the crap out of me when she ran between my legs and down the block. And there's a dog's tail behind your car. You need to get them out of your house, Ariel. Something's wrong with them."

"GAH!" she screamed and slammed the table again. "I have tried. I can't do it! I can't get them past my door. I can strain until I hurt and can't budge them beyond the door. I wanted to take them back to West Virginia and throw them inside the barn where I bought them! I can't!"

She kicked her chair, yelped from the pain, and dropped to the floor in tears holding her wounded foot.

Stephanie went to her and soothed her. "Really? You tried?"

"I did. I finally figured it out. I thought they were empty but they're filled with someone's remains. They're a set of twins. Marta and Mark Kesterson."

"Then I'll do it for you."

"You will?"

"Definitely. That's the least I can do to stop you from hurting. This is so unlike you. I want the real Ariel back. The joker who likes to laugh and play pranks. You know?"

"Yes. If you can, then please help me."

"Okay. Sit tight and I'll get them in the trunk of my car. Then you go with me to give me directions and we're out of here, like now."

Ariel surrendered, wiped her face with the bottom of her tee and waited.

Soon Stephanie shouted a curse and stood beside her again. "Did you glue them?"

"No."

"I can't move them and they burned my fingers. I think you need some exorcist help, girlfriend. This bugs me, but I can't help you."

She helped Ariel stand and they straightened out the table.

"Thanks, Steph. I know you tried and your heart's in the right place, but I got to do this on my own, someway. I've got 4 days and the weekend to figure it out. And I will. I still have a few options. Thanks for stopping by. It makes me feel good that someone out there cares about me."

"Rock on. I got to go, but I must tell you, girlfriend, you look good naked. Wish I looked that good. Anyway, hope to see you soon. Call me when you figure something out or there's something I can do for you."

CHAPTER THREE

Kate Buckner replaced Stephanie without professing any problems with animals. She spent an hour asking questions, touring the house, making notes, and then they sat at the restored dining room table.

"You've got a treasure here. Do you really want to sell it?"

"I've got a lot of options to consider and many of them are running around my head right now. One is a 20-acre farm in West Virginia. Rather remote, but while on vacation, I spent some time in that state, and I like it. It could be something I enjoy until I press on with life after death."

"Now that sounds darn interesting."

"Yes. Only problem would be employment until I become totally self-sufficient. If I go, I'll go with that goal in mind. So, how much is this place worth?"

"I imagine I could sell it easily for $90 to $120 thousand. There are few deed restrictions, and even though it's a two-bedroom model, there's ample room and opportunity to create another two bedrooms if absolutely necessary. The 1.75 acres of land provide a marvelous opportunity for upgrades. And the neighborhood is quiet and in a school area that's ranked number two in the state. I really don't foresee a lot of problems in selling it. However, even though you've got a lot swimming around your mind, let me add one more thing to consider. If you do go, you can keep this house and make it a rental property. That would net you about $1400 to $1600 a month at a minimum. And I would work that for you, for a small fee of course."

"Well, I'll consider it and let you know soon. I have a week or less to do something either way and I'm not known to slack once I've made my decision."

"That's often a good thing. Now, for one last question, I love those urns and my bedroom is an Asian theme. If you complete your deals, would you consider selling them to me?"

Ariel shook her head at the earnest face. "Nope. I won't sell them or give them away. I'd not do that to you. The problems that accompany them are not worth it, and I'd consider it a crime if I transferred them to you in any fashion."

"Now that sounds serious, and I no longer worry about them."

Alone again, Ariel wandered through the house and settled at the computer and started a search for paralegal opportunities in the area of Charleston, West Virginia. There were several but they were only inside the city limits of Charleston. That was around a 175-mile round trip from Gordon. Three had external or outlying offices, and she settled on them and narrowed it down to one that had the best benefits. She did not see any place for Web Application, so called to chat with the receptionist.

"Hey there, Cheryl B. This is Ariel Jenkins from Cincinnati, Ohio. I've looked at your Internet site, but you have no application pages. Are you hiring, or do you plan on it soon? Help? I feel the need arising."

"You're right on that. We stopped accepting applications a year ago when we had a huge turnover and expansion. However, that's going to change soon. Where do you work now?"

"I'm employed by Gillman, Trisher, and Wently. They're a fairly big law firm in southern Cincinnati. I'm the paralegal manager over eight others."

"Oh, I love you. I love you. I love you! Give your contact information to me and I'll call you personally when it's open. You're interested in this area? Moving, getting married or escaping?"

"I'm possibly relocating, but not for those reasons. I'm just starting my search and this is the biggest city around. I'm looking for something in that area or southwest of you. The place I'm interested in is around Gordon."

"Heard of it and honey, there's an opening coming up there soon. One is pregnant and she's hanging around until she starts maternity leave and then she's done. Already lay it on them a month ago. The other is getting close to retirement and she refuses to come back as a temp or part-time. Both of those are opening soon in Madison, about 15 miles from Gordon."

"Sounds like this was a good day to call."

She left her information and took a break on her back porch. She scarcely sat on the chaise lounge when the cat entered the yard from the left fence. She stood at the railing and yelled.

"Hey, ass breath! I can't believe you. You're in my space, and I'm hungry as a buzzard."

The cat streaked through the fence and didn't slow until it was under the sliding board in the other yard. There it stopped and lay flat on the ground staring at the porch.

"You're learning, huh? Wonder how many times I'll have to scare you before you stop and chose another route? I love it."

Later in the evening, she read another chapter of the Bible and went through the family tree again to the red X's. For fun and boredom relief, she located a web site for the tiny Gordon Post and went through the archives to find and read everything she could on Mark and Marta Kesterson. She found a lot of info and spent a great deal of time studying their faces. She printed one of each from a year book and covered their hairstyle, and she knew she'd be hard-pressed to pick out who was who from only a facial shot. "You're a beautiful enchanting woman and your brother is a handsome and charming man. Wonder what you did to get snuffed and cremated so early in life? I shouldn't wonder at all anymore. I need to let you go and worry about my own life."

She lost her bra in the bedroom and put her tee back on and as an afterthought, she did the same with her panties, and donned her knitted shorts alone. She read another chapter of Genesis and then ordered out again for a meatball sub and fries delivery. She closed the living room curtains, and watched the urns glow until the driver rang the doorbell.

She opened the door to a handsome young man, took the food to the dining room and returned with her purse to pay him.

"You wear no bra," he commented. "I like that in women."

"I'll bet you do." She handed him the money with a smile.

He counted it and put it in his pocket. "Did you forget the tip?"

She grabbed him and kissed him. "How's that for a tip?"

"Phew! That's awesome. Double it?"

"Nah. Triple it."

She woke on the floor beside the sofa to a strange cell phone ring. "That was a nice dream. The driver was shocked by what I did for his tip. Wonder what would happen if that were for real?"

She yawned and heard the strange phone again. She started to move and only then she felt the weight of arms, and legs wrapped around her.

"Oh, damn! That wasn't a dream! That was real! Oh, gosh, Ariel! What the wiggles are you doing? You need some adult supervision and fast. Man, oh man!"

"What? What's the matter?" he asked.

"I'm wrong. I shouldn't have done that!"

He moved away from her and sat on the sofa. "I'm not so sure of that. I rather enjoyed that triple tip. Too bad it wasn't quadrupled."

"I can imagine you enjoyed it. Problem is, I never do that. Anytime. With anybody. You can congratulate yourself on being first."

His phone rang again. "I will, sweet thing." He winked and picked it up.

"Randy here. What's up? Fired? Why? It can't be that late. It is? Sorry about that. No. I'll stay fired, and I'll bring the money to you in a few moments. Why? On the last delivery I made, the woman decided to give me an awesome tip, but it took a while to count it all and thank her. Same to ya."

He lay the phone down and gathered his clothes. "Can I stay all night? I'd like to do that again. Your tips are awesome."

"No. Sorry. You're a first but not that first just yet."

"Bathroom is where? May I?"

"Through the dining room, go left, second door on right. Sorry, Randy, I feel great, and I loved it, but I can't let you stay. Call me in a few days. I'll know who you are."

He hurried away and she pulled on her shorts and tee and sat on the sofa where he had.

She heard the door close, and she shook her head. "He came in the house at 7:30. It's now 11:00. Ovulation was yesterday. Are there any bets? The dumb-ass booth, the ticket booth, the betting booth, and dunk tank are now open. Winner gets an external douche. Splash."

She looked at the urns and blew them a kiss. "You've burned me enough. Thanks for the water to put my fire out. However, if I don't bleed soon, the exorcist will be here in a jiffy, and you WILL go. It won't be home in West Virginia, but in the garbage to a stinky yucky place that'll turn you putrid."

He returned dressed and stopped at the door to view her. "Thanks for the tip. That's the best one I've had in years."

She had calmed considerably and she grinned. "I'll bet. I'll bet it will be like a lifetime before you get one to match it again."

"Uh, I'm Randy. Could you give me a small kiss goodbye, since we, uh?"

"I know your name. I'm Ariel. Can I tie your hands?"

He stuck his hands behind his back.

She kissed him and opened the door for him. She put the uneaten dinner in the fridge and went to the back porch for the rest of the night.

She hurried into the dining room to check her phone. It was from Stephanie. She grabbed it and ran to the bathroom.

"You feel better today?"

"I am a little. I had some good luck happen yesterday after you left. Then I rounded my night off with a big, oh damnation."

"Like, what did you do?"

"Like I kissed a delivery boy for his tip and ended up getting laid. I feel so dumb right now!"

"Are you serious? You answer the door nude?"

"No, but after his tip, I woke that way. You want to be my adult supervisor? I need one, bad."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. You're wild enough to get my cherry, and I'd wake up in love with you."

"Oh, nasty, but I understand your dread."

She flushed and lay the phone down to pull up and fasten her shorts.

"Hey, did you use the bathroom right now?"

"Yes. I had to pee but had to hear what you said also. I can do two things at once."

"You're nasty, but I love you anyway, wild child. Hope you're not."

"Hush! Don't say it. I'll worry about it enough. I got to go now. I'm hungry."

Nick called to check on her and told her nothing was new about the farm. He told her to view the Gordon Post for archives on the Kestersons. She laughed and told him okay.

Next phone call really excited her. "Hey Cheryl B. Didn't expect a call so soon?"

"Well, neither did I plan on it either. However,, I'm e-mailing you an application. Fill it out, find your resume file and e-mail them back as soon as you can. I've talked to the vice president about you and he's interested enough to see how well you are on paper. He and I both researched your office and staff ratings, and it's a strong like for you. And the job will be in Madison if he swoons over you. I'm betting he will."

"What happened so suddenly?"

"One of our people got into a domestic dispute that ended in a murder/suicide last night. It left a sudden hole, chaos, and heartache."

"Ten-four. I'll have it back within a couple of hours. Resume is already polished and ready. Thanks, Cheryl."

"No, thank you. I love angels who drop out of the sky when needed. Catch you later."

She disconnected and thought, "Wonder if she'd still hold that picture of angel if she knew what I did last night with Randy? Maybe."

For the rest of the day, she cleaned and organized and sorted some clothes she would want to take if she had to go somewhere in a hurry. She made a decision about sleeping and made a trip to a local camping store and bought a one-person tent. She inspected several that were on display and none of them were large enough for her, but two-person tents were too large. She settled on the largest of the one-person tents and bought a Coleman stove and lantern and some cooking utensils and sturdy but picturesque plates and glasses and silverware. She answered no for the salesman's question on long-term camping and an offer for a weekend camping adventure with him.

"I'm learning to hunt bear and elk with a sword and spear. And it requires all this when I set off on my own."

She found it easy to set up, and she did it beside the chaise and her fear was confirmed. "No problem. Ariel is adaptable. Watch this, smarty pants." She took the cushions off the chaise lounge, put them in the tent, got her sleeping bag from the house and tested it. "It's perfect. I have plenty of room, it's comfy, and no nightmares bug me here. Bed is gone unless it's storming too hard or 10 below."

She stretched again, rolled onto her stomach and froze. At the screen flaps that made the door, sat the black cat watching her with unblinking eyes.

"What the wiggles? What are you doing here? Don't you know I have a death wish on you?"

It let go a meow and ended in a higher volume."

"Be gone! Shoo! Git!" she shouted and swung a hand toward its face.

It paced right to left, rubbed against the door and its wailing got louder.

"Just great, Ariel. Put yourself in a tent and your enemies sitting outside your door. What you going to do to get around it? You've got nothing but your wits. No weapons even close. Dag nabbit, girl rabbit, your planning really sucks!"

She watched the pacing and listened to the wails that got progressively insistent and mournful. "Are you hungry? Is that your problem? You want me to feed you? What say I give you a nice bowl of tuna with a lethal dose of arsenic? Would you love me then?" She sighed and sat up. "Yes, but the small damned cat has you trapped in a tent. Fuck!"

"What's going on over there?" John asked. "Where did you come from? Are you trying to get killed? Are you on a suicide mission? That woman will shoot you and roast you over a log fire. Shut up and go away."

"I wish it would," Ariel spoke loudly. "I've tried everything I can think of to keep her away from me, and now she's here again."

"Where are you? I don't see you?"

"I'm in the new tent I bought and she won't let me out."

He laughed at her. "What? You've got to be about a hundred times bigger than the cat, and she's keeping you inside? Now I've heard everything. Just feed her."

"I don't have any cat food. Think some of your little dog's food would work? I'd really like to get out of here."

He laughed again. "Then get out. Hungry cats won't attack unless they're feral. She's most likely a domestic that's been discarded and shunned. Just open the tent and get out. Worst thing she'll do is swipe around your ankles and trip you."

She found the courage to do that and shooed her away several times and then it was as John said and she wailed like crazy.

John was gone, but he returned to the fence with a small box. "Try this, Ariel. It'll probably quiet her for tonight anyway."

"Thanks, John."

'You're welcome. Tell me, are you okay? Your house has been really weird for the last week. You playing with black magic or something?"

"No. Thanks again. Let me feed her and see what happens."

She took it inside and put one cup of it in a plastic bowl and shoved the cat away from the door to set it down.

The attack of teeth began, in earnest, and she licked the bowl clean.

She sat another bowl with water beside the empty one and she lapped some and sat back to watch Ariel and meow several times as she licked her lips, and wiped with a paw.

"So, that's the way it works, huh? I feed you and suddenly you belong to me? Wish it worked that way for me. It might. Call Randy and he'd be all over me, and he'd take care of me, hold me, pet me, and rub me until I purred. Nix!"

"I'll make you a deal. You don't bug me too much. Mainly take care of yourself, and I'll feed you. Yes or no?"

The cat meowed and swiped around her ankles.

"That was so heartwarming," said John.

She flashed him an obscene gesture. "You're not funny at all."

She checked the box he gave her. "Think once more today will work for her?"

"Works for me. She probably knows where to supplement what she gets from you. Divide what you have for tonight and in the morning. Then you'll have to get some for yourself."

"Okay. Thanks John. Behave, cat. I'll name you later. Have something else to do now."

The e-mail from Cheryl waited for her. She printed the application, filled it out and scanned it back into a PDF file. She sent a return e-mail and attached the application and her resume, kissed her fingers and touched the screen. "Love you. Go and work miracles for this weary person."

She showered, dressed in fresh clothes, and felt better. She watched television news and folded clothes until noon when she heard a car door slam. She knelt on the sofa and looked out the window as Stephanie looked in all directions, hooked her keys on the middle finger of her right hand, and with determination walked up the stepping stone path toward the door. The keys bounced nervously against her palm as she swayed and shuffled along the stones.

"Now isn't she cute. She likes me naked? Wonder what she wants?"

She moved to the door, waited for her to ring the bell, and jerked it open. "Hello, Stephanie. So kind of you to pay me a visit."

Stephanie paused in the doorway and took control of it herself. "Yes. I have good timing. You're not naked today. Why not?"

'That was a onetime-good-deal."

"Can I get you that way? I'll help you all I can."

"Stephanie, don't you know that some things should never be put to the test?"

"Girlfriend, tell me one woman that we know who is trustworthy to maintain silent integrity, and I'll go. It took a lot of courage just to walk up the path."

"I know. I saw. I felt." She rested a hand on her shoulder. "Okay. I surrender. If I'm the first, then so be it. I promise to hold no anger against you nor mouth any condemnation. 'Enough said?"

Stephanie closed the door and locked it before she kissed her.

"I'm not sure about my bed. I sleep there little now."

"I don't think it will be a problem. Let's go."

Ariel recovered first and gathered her clothes. "Is this the way life goes? Take clothes off. Have fun. Experience bliss. Gather clothes. Don clothes. Go do something to calm down from having fun. Guess it is for a while." She ran her fingers through Stephanie's hair, lifted some strands and watched it fall.

"I'll give you a 30 on a scale of 1 to 10, with one being ho-hum," she whispered. "I had doubts. You didn't. And I praise your courage to keep me on track and on the bed. You're quite amazing."

"Am I impressive enough to repeat that?"

"Yes. Afternoon delights are enchanting. These evil urns have turned my life upside down. And now you're here for a go."

"What about Randy?"

'What about him? He's not here. He won't be again."

"Want to do a comparison twixt the two?"

"Vanity, thy name is Stephanie. He got off quicker. He left me very sticky. You took your time. Never worried about a cleanup with you. So, rest your mind and heart that I'll do you again but Randy, never."

"Grand. What do we do now?"

"I'm going to the bathroom then downstairs to feed my new addition, and if you're hungry, follow me, and we'll all three eat something."

Stephanie joined her and danced in the dining room. "Hey, isn't that the same hissing cat from before?"

"Yes. She kept coming back. She complained. I fed her. Guess she's mine now. It's sort of like you. You kept coming back. You complained at me being dressed. I fed your craving. Guess you're mine now."

"That was very eloquent. Don't know about the belonging part. We'll see. One leaf does not a tree make."

Ariel fed the cat the last of the dog food in the morning. She sat in a chair with a cup of coffee and watched through the screen door as the cat cleaned her bowl.

Suddenly hands slid down across her shoulders to stop at her breasts. At the same time a wet kiss appeared on both sides of her neck.

"Hey, beautiful. What's up? My libido's not. You wore it out last night. I never did that twice in one day."

"Darn. I'll have to start looking for younger healthier women soon."

"Wise ass. Thanks for what you did last night. I like. I love. I want more, but not now. What's on for today?"

"Today's Saturday and I have nothing planned. Grab a cup of coffee and let the day unfold as it will. Only thing I must do to keep peace in the house is to buy some cat food for the tiny black controlling feline. Other than that, eh. Whatever. Look at that. It's another serendipity. Let's hit it."

"Sounds good to me."

Ariel shifted so she could view the mischievous face. "Can you cook, even half-ass?"

"Yes I can. Do you want a sample right now?"

"Like five minutes ago. Come on, girl. My great grandmother's slow, but she's deceased. She has an excuse."

"Well let me familiarize myself with the kitchen and I'll give it my best shot with what you have." She kissed her cheek. "How long you had her?"

"She adopted my yesterday, like you."

"Named her yet?"

"Her no; you yes. You're Nymph."

Grand. Then she's Dog. Imagine a vet's office. You call her. 'Come here, Dog.' She comes to you, and all the dogs whine in confusion because she doesn't look like a dog."

"You're nuts, but I love that scene. No more. She's Dog until she's dog gone."

Ariel listened to doors and drawers opening and rummaging to the max and then a whistled tune as she began "the process" of creating a breakfast from scratch. Soon her stomach grumbled from the aromas that floated around and even Dog perked up her ears and eyed the kitchen area.

Then hands slipped under her arms and into the pits with a gentle tug upward. "Arise and dine, my queen. I've created a royal feast for your deserving palate. Come on. Move it."

"What? Did you order out?"

"Nope. Shredded potatoes with onion and chives. Miniature omelets with cheese, bacon chips, and scallions. And my crispy grilled cheese made from toast, cheese, a middle surprise, and microwaved to melt the cheese. Promise you'll ask for more. Orange juice. Milk. And the coffee you already have."

"Wow! I'm impressed! And no man has snatched you up yet?"

"I've gone both ways. You know that. But I like the feminine side far better. Therefore, every man is a loser who tries to snatch me up. That's life."

"Say no more, sweet thing. Let me dine before my stomach jumps out and slaps me silly."

She cut into the grilled cheese and found it crispy as stated. She sighed and moaned as she chewed up the piece. "Hey, that's what? A tomato?"

"Yes. I didn't think you ever tried it before, but wait until I make one the normal way in the skillet. You'll melt with it and then be on the floor kissing my toes. We'll both enjoy that one. Trust me."

"I'm not going to argue on that. Hot damn! I like. I love. I want more!"

Stephanie blushed and stirred uncomfortably in her chair. "Not used to compliments from the heart. I'm happy that you're pleased. Truly."

They finished the meal and Ariel patted her stomach. "Excellent!"

She started on her second cup of coffee when her cell phone rang. She noted the number and sighed. "So soon? Couldn't wait for Monday to roll around? This isn't good timing."

Stephanie eyed her sharply. "What? Bad news?"

"Uncertain news, and you're here. I liked last night. I like this morning. I'm new. How much can I trust you?"

"As far as you want. If it's important, answer the phone. If you don't trust me, ask me to join Dog outside for a short time."

She decided. "No. I'll trust." She pressed the receive button and then speakerphone. "Hello, Cheryl B. This is a surprise. I expected to wait the weekend for this call."

"I figured you might think that. So did I. The Vice President and the board thought otherwise."

I've got my hands full at the moment and a guest. You're on speakerphone, but it's not a problem."

"That's not my worry, only yours. You ready?"

"Nervous, shaking like a leaf, and ready. Lay it on me."

"Okay, here's the deal as it stands. Sorry if it stresses you, but it's a take it or leave it offer, probably never to be repeated, anywhere in the world. So, you're accepted for the position if you want it. Do you want it?"

She squealed. "Hell yes! Sorry. I'll calm down."

"Don't worry. My ears are no longer virgin in this career. That's a good answer. Second question is, what starting salary do you want?"

"What? You expect me to answer that?"

"I certainly do. Name it please and we'll see if it works within my limits."

"I'm making $60 thousand now. How about $72 thousand to start?"

"Excellent. Done. I had a limit of $80 thousand, but you'll get there in short time I'm sure. All the senior staff was impressed with your resume. They had a special meeting after hours and called me at home to ask if you were for real. Next question, can you start in 10 days? They'd love to have you here tomorrow, but I know it's impossible. Is 10 days doable for you?"

"Phew! Wow! Astonishing! I'll have to compress some things and obligate some things here, but I'll cram in all I need to do here and make it in 12 at the most if I can get some leeway from that end for a few cleanup campaigns. Okay?"

"Done. We're juggling personnel at the moment to compensate for the hurtful loss. She was the office manager for 16 paralegals, and now she's gone and chaos has descended on Madison for the moment. We'll manage until you get here and then help you for 2 weeks. After that you run with it on your own. Does that situation sound good?"

"Reasonable enough."

"Do you have a place to stay here?"

"I'm working on that along with this. It was in the fire before I checked for employment."

"What and where?"

"The Kesterson Estate in Gordon. I stopped at the auction and yard sale and made a few purchases. That led to who bought it and found it still on the market."

"I know. I was there. That was strange. No one wanted to bid, not even $500. I thought about it, but since the locals abhorred it, I kept quiet and let it go. Wait! You made purchases?"

"Wondered if you were sleeping or not. I arrived and left before the auction. Had a car problem and Nick helped me out."

"Oh, yes! You have rusty hair that's short and layered. You look like a tomboy but you're far from that misnomer. You have dark, penetrating eyes. You wore a red blouse and blue faded denim shorts, cutoff from pants and not hemmed. You have nice suntanned legs, and you're very attractive. You bought two urns, a Bible, the three crocheted doilies, and a quilt, and uh, a set of glasses. Right?"

"Good memory. Yes. Small world, huh?"

"The compactest! So what's with it? You serious about wanting it?"

"I'm now going to go crazy and put in a bid. I've asked Nick and a Henry from the county government about it. I'll put this place on the market and ask Nick to help find a place for me to stay, or you, until the sale happens, and then I'll purchase Kesterson Estates. After that, I'll be home, call it home, feel more at home there than anywhere in the world."

"Thanks so much for accepting our offer, my dear Ariel. Have a great day and I'll refrain from communications until after noon on Monday. Bless you, my friend."

Silence ruled the table for a few moments. Ariel watched her guest, and Stephanie looked at the phone until she cleared her throat.

"Well, girlfriend. I have to say that I'm impressed with you. That was an awesome job interview that never was. They haven't seen you and they hired you on your merits alone. What starting salary do you want? You rock, Ariel! Maybe I should be the one to kiss your toes and feet. Wow, girlfriend!"

Chapter 4

"Do I have to leave?" Stephanie asked at the end of Sunday evening. "This has been an awesome and awakening weekend for me."

"Not unless you wish to go. You're most welcome to stay. I think that all my sexuality has a lot to do with the Kesterson twins, but I don't know how to tie them in, yet. Anyway, I'm open to you now."

"Well, with all that's happened that I've witnessed, I can see that you're going to be gone soon. And I need to accept that I'm not going with you. So, can I have an open-door policy until you yank up your roots?"

"That's fine with me also. You want. You come. You sleep. You go home. You're an adult. Take care of yourself. I'll neither bind nor reject you."

"Well, I think I'll go tonight. I don't have anything to change into. I came unprepared."

"Okay. And keep silent about what I'm doing. I'll stop by sometime tomorrow to tell Jack."

Ariel woke from another pyre dream but not with all the drama of the first ones. She simply put a towel down and let it go. When she woke in the morning, she felt all around the bed, looking for Stephanie.

"She's not here. Stop. After two nights I miss her in my bed? That's not right. That's not me. Well we'll have to get over it and adjust until we're out of here and then C'est la vie to all that is now. You said that with a great conviction. Shut up. What will you do about the urns?"

"Don't know about them. I think that when the deal is done I'll take them with me, and I'll bury them like they should have been long ago. I feel strongly that will put an end to all the nonsense surrounding them. However, the strange disappearance must be solved. Hey, now that had conviction. Is that what they want? They want me to find out and then bury them so they can get along in the afterlife? Yes, they do."

"Ten days? Only ten? Marvelous, I think! When Ariel Jenkins decides to act, step aside, world, or you might get stepped on! Yes!"

She was an hour away from Cincinnati City limits and on her way to West Virginia and a new life, with some dusty Old Life secured in her trunk, and Dog curled up sleeping in a cat transport cage in the passenger seat. Ten days often seemed like a dream or trying to swim in a pool of gelatin. Her former employers were irritated with her snap decision. Stephanie caused a big stir when she gave her a French kiss before she left the office the final time. She wished she could have at least looked embarrassed, blushed, or something. Instead, she smiled and walked through the paralegal pool that suddenly became a silent graveyard. However, oh the stares and flaming dart questions she received.

Stephanie had a Power of Attorney to deal with Kate on selling her house which had a sign up and five inquiries in the first two days. Henry and Nick worked a couple of miracles for her. Henry accepted a $5000 deposit and had the real estate gurus contact Kate on the purchase of Kesterson Estates. Nick arranged for a place for her to stay with his sister, Grace, seven miles east of Gordon.

Ariel let Grace help her unload and explain the one-bedroom studio apartment over the two-car garage. She sat on the sofa, bounced on the full bed, ran her hands over the kitchen counters, and commented nicely on the horse shower curtains in the bath. Grace talked nearly non-stop and at the end of the tour took her downstairs to show her where the washer and dryer room was located and gave her a key to the outside door.

"That's the only inconvenient thing about this place, honey. It's quiet. It's country. It's going to be wonderful to have you here until you settle on your new property and home. And let me tell you, I'm glad that someone nice like you is getting that place. That Estelle was a civic-minded person, but she was tarter than a crab apple soaking in lemon juice and contrary as a 20-mile mountain snake road."

She sighed and hugged Ariel. "I'll shut up now and let you get settled. Dinner is served at 6:30, and you're invited. You're invited every night until the magic mortgage fairy does her thing, and you're gone. Okay?"

Ariel laughed and covered her mouth. "I'm sorry. It's just a shock to go from nothing to something and have people treat me so kindly even though they've never seen me before. Thanks, Grace. I'm sure I'll love it here, and I'll see you for dinner. Thanks so much."

"I understand, and your cat, is she an inside cat?"

"No. She's a stray who adopted me. I keep her outside. That's the deal for feeding her."

"Then she can run free. I don't think she'll run off. Just turn her loose at the top of the stairs and let her inspect her kingdom."

With that last comment, she turned and walked back to her house, whistling as she went.

She released Dog and watched her stealthily inspecting her new environment, unpacked her suitcase and sat on the steps to enjoy the relative quiet. The quiet lasted until 3:30, when all of Grace's children got off the school bus and barreled down the driveway, all discussing who was visiting. That ended and the two boys Bruce 16 and Darrell 15 began shooting a basketball through a hoop across the driveway. She was happy the net was not attached to the garage.

"Self, you're going to love it here. Plant yourself and grow roots so deep and strong, no one can budge you, forever. Amen."

She stood and looked down on top of the car. "Have patience guys. I'll get you home soon. I hope you appreciate all the patience I've had with your mischief." She looked at and rubbed her stomach. "I don't appreciate my missing a period. As soon as I get settled with finality, I need to get that checked out, for truth or dare." She got her bearings and faced the west and felt sadness creep over her. "Stephanie, sorry, but I can't hang that way. You made a good case for us, and I'll miss you, but good luck in life."

The dinner was noisy, and the three children asked a few million questions about Ariel.

The youngest of the clan, Shirley, talked a lot and thought her goofy for calling her cat Dog.

After the feast, she argued with Grace until she was permitted to help wash the dishes. She took the task of drying and putting away, and Grace took the task of washing and talking.

"Are you starved for friendship or what?" Ariel asked after a time.

"The quick answer is no and yes. I have few friends, I mean real friends. I'm a widow with three children and no hope for a champion to appear and rescue me. And the women in this area are 4th or 5th generation and therefore wealthy, silent, moody, and secretive as Richard Nixon."

"Oh, brother. I never considered that in this move. Do you think I'll have that problem? Are there any women around my age?"

"There are a few but I don't know. You seem rather angelic, and that's a plus for you. Time will tell. Are you okay alone?"

"I'm fine by myself, most of the time. However, I love to interact with people. I never did like animals, any kind of animal. Dog trapped me and between her and my neighbor, I've finally started to reevaluate my life and relationships."

"Do you treat men as animals? I mean, do you dislike them also?"

"No. I just avoid them. In Cincinnati, there's an excess of men. And they're rough and have problems communicating with women unless it's in bed and in a missionary position. So, I'm happy with myself, but in the back of my mind, I want to have a home and family someday. Just plodding along in life until it happens or not."

"Good attitude and policy. We'll see what happens here when you grow roots, and people see that you're not going to leave. Go ahead. Look at me in disbelief. It'll happen. They'll have secret pools on how long you'll last. And that's on the estate, and single."

"Well insider news here, Grace. The ones with the longest date out there will use the paper for rabbit droppings before they see this woman cave into littleness. I'll do like my dad told me. When you run up against annoying biddies in life, do a loud dick dance to shock them and kick the ass of all who are brave or fool enough to remain behind."

Grace hugged her and patted her back. "Girl, I'm going to like you being around here. And you've got an ally if needed, 'cause I don't want to see what you got between your legs, and I don't like pain. So there."

"Is this a preview of what a cemetery is like?" Ariel asked herself when she woke the next morning. "It's deathly quiet. And so little traffic makes it wonderful."

She prepared for the day and drove to investigate Madison and meet Cheryl B. after contacting her. She liked the office and Clint Hoffman,and he liked her. When he learned she had arrived only the night before, he told her to take two more days before showing up for training and familiarization. She walked with Cheryl back through the office and nodded and smiled at several of the women. She recalled her dad told her once that mountain women were beautiful, corn-fed and healthy as a horse. From all she saw, that day; she believed.

She filled out some paperwork with Cheryl and then wandered several blocks in each direction to get familiar like Dog did in the evening. She located two delis and a supermarket.

She decided to do some shopping before going home. She would take dinner meals with Grace because she liked the family and the friendliness. Otherwise, she would take care of herself.

"Yeah, I'm independent, but that's just how I roll."

She sat on the steps again at sundown and checked her phone. "Hey, Stephanie. How's it going? Yes, I miss you. I'm a stranger in a strange land. Yes, I expected it, and I'll tame the whole population here in Gordon to be open, kind, benevolent, or build a bigger ER to accommodate the ass kicking that will commence. Yeah, I know I'm crazy. But really, Steph, I love it here. I slept like a rock last night. There were no noises, traffic, or nightmares. It was wonderful. Don't know. Let's not go there right now. Need to get settled into work and get the insurance going. Then I'll get checked out. No, I'm not morning sick. I swear, girlfriend. You're not the father if I am. You just chill, girlfriend. I'll do what's right and take care of me. Yes. I love you also and I'll call you every other day about this time. Okay? Goodnight." She kissed the phone and disconnected.

She fed Dog and lay down on the sofa to relax. A sound like thunder crashing through the roof had her up and holding her chest. He first focus was on Dog, who sat on the step landing howling like a banshee. She stumbled to the door and saw two huge mixed-breed dogs fighting behind her car.

"Unbelievable! If I only had a gun I'd end you both right now! I can't believe the grief those five bucks have cost me."

About that time, the house front door opened Grace emerged with a shotgun. She pointed the gun in the air and pulled the trigger. The blast ended the fight and Grace lowered the gun.

"Thanks, Grace."

"Welcome, honey. If your car wasn't there, we'd roast them for dinner. That hasn't happened here, ever. You got a carcass in the trunk?"

She looked down at the woman and pondered what to say. She felt the need to say something, even if it was stupid.

"No. What I've got is two urns that I purchased from the Kesterson yard sale. They've caused me a lot of grief in Ohio. First thing I do when the place is mine is to bury them in the cemetery where they belong. I'm sorry. I had no clue when I took them away. They were beautiful, but they're loaded with evil."

Grace stared at her and shielded her eyes. "You're serious, aren't you? That's why that earthquake from the clap of thunder?"

"Yes. Most likely their presence caused it, as well as the dog fight." She gripped the railing and steadied herself.

"Do you know whose ashes they are?"

"Do you really want an answer?"

"If I ask, I expect an answer; otherwise, I stay silent."

"Marta and Mark Kesterson."

"Oh, damn and tarnation! That can't be right. They disappeared. We finally figured they ran away from Estelle who was a heathen about that time."

Well, I think they died in the barn fire in 2002."

"Can't be. There were no bodies in the barn. Jack died in that fire and left me a widow. He was the only death. Huge mess, but only Jack died and he was foolish. He thought he seen someone inside and ran inside to save them. The main beam collapsed right then and crushed him. A couple of his buddies tried to stop him. Told him he was seeing things, but he broke free and ran inside."

"Well, the urns have ashes in them and their names are on the bottom and June 2002. And that's what I'm going to do with them. I don't think they ran away, like Nick told me and now you. Somehow and somewhere around here, they died and were cremated. I do have the receipt from Roland and Rawling for that service, and Estelle paid for it."

"Oh damnation. That's hard to believe. She bawled and fussed and badgered the police until they launched a search. And why did the funeral home do that and keep quiet about them missing? Something's out of synch there."

"I know, but I think when they're buried, all that was wrong will be restored and peace will rule the Kesterson Estate, soon to be Ariel's Estate. And I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause such a disturbance. Things have been pretty much calm for the last week. I thought it rather behind me now that I was so close."

Grace composed herself and leaned against the trunk. "What happened there?"

"Dog fights. Super bird flocks. A buzzard ate a dead squirrel in my driveway. The cat I have now, tried to terrorize me. I had nightmares of being burned on a funeral pyre or being burned at the stake for being a sexual slut beyond redemption."

"You sound like you're going to bury them, but I think you're curious enough to investigate what happened, even if there are no witnesses around. Did I read you right?"

"You're dead on. They've bothered me too much to dig and cover. In the end I will, but not until there's a confession. I want no more nightmares or hassles in life."

"Well, I'm older than Nick. I also know people that he doesn't. So if you need any guidance, let me know."

"I know it's been about 15 years, but is the funeral home still around and doing business? Are enough folks dying to keep it operational?"

"Yes. The elders have died off except for Luther Rawling. Daniel Roland runs the place now with one brother Luke and a cousin Ned from his mother's side. Luther's in a nursing home. He has dementia and not doing well at all. He lays around all day, eats, poops, and talks to things no one can see. He doesn't say anything to any visitors. He never lets on if he hears anything they say to him. It's a pitiful way to go after serving the dead and the grieving families so many years."

"Well, that will be one of my stops. I might ask you to take me to visit him. Want to check out the funeral home first, among other things."

"Want some help?"

"You think you can hang with me? What do you do during the day?"

"I spend my days gardening, harvesting, canning vegetables, cleaning the house, cooking, sewing clothes, mending clothes, washing, drying, and folding clothes. And when I'm not doing that, I'm doing other fun women things."

"You made me tired. So, you're available. I think I'll take you up on that sometimes. Who would be a good person to talk to who might keep yearbooks for 2002? You know, someone who might have gone to school with Marta and Mark and might be willing to talk about them honestly?"

"Once upon a time, I could say anyone. Most youth move on out of Gordon. It's not the bustling city it should or could be. They booked to Charleston or north to Pittsburgh. There's maybe 5 left who might keep yearbooks. The ones who didn't leave town, left via Roland And Rawling. Case closed. I'll jot down a list of names and where they live. They're not too far away."

"Thanks. Did you know them?"

"No. They were everywhere, doing everything under the sun. Frank and Estelle drove them to be in the public domain constantly. They were into bowling, soccer, martial arts, baseball, cheerleading, honor roll at school. If you could name it, they did it, and did it well. They were superstars in the making, being pushed by their parents. But, when I did see them, during the '80's they always seemed sad and weary to me. It wasn't the normal exhaustion of people. It was more like the tiredness of a horse who pulls a wagon full of rocks, eight hours a day, for days on end without a good rest or vacation. That's the kind of tiredness I saw."

"Really that's believable. Especially if the parents had them into so many different activities. Hmm. Interesting."

Grace nodded and asked, "Can I ask a couple of questions? They might be personal, but don't answer if they're too deep. Don't need any dick dance tonight."

"Go for it."

"One. Are you pregnant? I just get this feeling that you are."

She stared at Grace and then turned toward the steps where Dog lay basking on one. "I don't know. I think I am. First stop when the insurance comes on-line for me is that test. Missed one period after my last sexual bout. It was a pizza delivery man. I tipped him with a kiss and it got carried away, and now I'm concerned. You've been very perceptive. Number two is?"

"Well, since you're a loner, and don't chase men, have you had any women, like ah, um, you know? Intimately?"

"My gosh, Grace! You don't ask people that! I admire your candidness, but whoa! Have you?"

"No, but I figured if you come from big city to the isolated country, and you get, well, you know, desiring sex; I do know a few women who might help you."

She covered her mouth but failed her effort not to laugh. "You crack me up. You are the woman! I think that in this whole world, only you would come up with that offer. You're amazing. I love you. Oh, you're so cool. 'I'll hook you up if you get horny.' My gosh!"

Grace laughed with her and turned red. "Well, I guess that did come out a little funny. Sorry. Just don't want you getting frustrated in a foreign land. And if you don't ask, no one will tell you."

"Wow! What a trip. I'll bet you were a wild woman in your youth? Ever do any tequila shots?"

"Oh, yeah. I drank one man under-the-table and he grabbed hold of my leg and never let go. He's still here in my life in memory. I enjoyed a two-day sexual marathon and didn't remember a thing but his kissing me. Gave him three children. Loved him until he left me. Still do."

"Wow. Well, for me, I'm looking for neither. Had a man by accident. Had a woman to satisfy her craw. I'll remain what I am and where I am until the good lord moves me to or sends someone my way."

"You're not angry?"

"No. I told you to ask, and you've shocked me enough to be honest. It's really very touching to find a friend who's so candid and loving."

"Thanks."

"Now, let's move away from that. What about Franklin and Estelle? How were they in public?"

"Estelle was quiet. Franklin was a loudmouth, show off, constantly calling attention to himself or to the children, but never to Estelle. If he loved her at all, it was behind closed doors. She was just there as a token wife. She had no opinions or inputs."

"What about church attendance?"

"They were there together every Sunday. For a while the children were with them then in junior high school, it was mom and dad without kids."

"What about the funeral?"

"What about it? They were missing, officially. They were never found. The pastor worked with the mayor and had them declared legally dead. The community chipped in and bought two caskets, put some of their personal items and photos in them and buried them."

"Interesting. What was the Kesterson income? What source?"

"Old money in trust funds, mainly. Franklin was the banker, the only banker in Madison for most of his life. He made loans and received payback. He financed what little growth we had and made money. Around 500 homes received mortgage money from him. Then he was gone."

"Was there any life insurance on the children?"

"Don't know that one. You might find out someday."

"Why did you say that?"

"You're getting the estate, honey. It's not been opened or touched since the yard sale. Everything that didn't sell was put into the garage and barn. And I would imagine that not everything was taken from the house for clearance. And Estelle was a hoarder. That's what they're called nowadays. We called them pack rats. Collect everything and throw nothing away. I don't envy you your task. That's a major feat to face. I wish you strength and stamina to go through it all."

"Well, look on the bright side. I've got the rest of my life, and nothing planned at the moment. However, I'm going to bed early tonight. See you tomorrow morning. This has been a long day and I have tomorrow free before I must work or else be run out of town."

Chapter 5

Grace sat on her front porch, waiting for her when she moseyed downstairs to start her day. "Good morning, honey. I have what I promised you since this is a free day for you. It's the list of cohorts."

She took it and read the names. "Cindy Braxen is highlighted. Is she the best one to start my investigation?"

"Yes. Thought of her around number 5 and added her. Say, toward the last years before they disappeared, she was very vocal about them being scum and only their rich daddy made them worthwhile. Enemies know their enemy. And she went to school with them from kindergarten on. It should make for a fun day."

"I'm sure. Thanks, Grace. I like you more now."

"Want breakfast before you go?"

"Don't want to trouble you."

"You're not. I had a sandwich already made for you. It's a grilled cheese with an egg in the middle that has some sausage scrambled inside. Used to make them for Jack. I just figured you'd like it."

"You're kidding me? That's one of my favorite breakfast foods. Is there chips to go with it?"

"Certainly, just promise you'll take time to eat it?"

"I'll eat at your table if you don't mind."

"Good. I love to see people enjoy my food."

She followed directions and pulled into Cindy's driveway behind a faded red Toyota pickup truck with a cap. It was an older and smaller model that she had never seen before. She walked all around it and considered she might invest in one in the future. She could see herself at home, driving one around the countryside.

She rang the doorbell twice, and the inner door opened roughly.

"What do you want? Do you think I need to buy something from you?"

The anger took her aback. "Uh, I'm not selling anything. Grace Reynolds recommended that I talk with you first, Cindy."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Ariel Jenkins. I'm buying the old Kesterson estate, and I've a lot of questions."

"About what? You'd best be specific and soon or I'll call the police and have you removed!"

"Man! You don't have to be so rude to strangers. I want to talk to you about the Kesterson twins, Marta and Mark. Do you have the time?"

She slammed the door hard enough to rattle windows. "Fuck!" She screamed and opened the door to slam it again.

Ariel stepped back from the screen and prepared to bolt when it opened roughly.

"Can't you let them remain buried? They were the biggest damned ass hole mistakes the world has known! Hurt and destroy everything good that they touch! They were damned monsters and demons in human bodies! Leave them dead and buried, please!"

"Uh, that's not what other people say."

"Of course not! How dare any adult say anything bad about Franklin's darling lovely babies? He owned the damned town and half the county! He had the power! Didn't save his sorry ass, did it? Shit-head is dead, like dirt! Like all of us that he walked on!"

"Uh, maybe I should come back when you're calmer."

"Too late for that now! You've done opened the door! They were misguided evil. Every child born at that same time was a piece of wasted flesh, relegated to the closest cesspool where Marta's and Mark's shit flowed!"

"Wow. Uh, I'll come back later."

Cindy hit the wall with her fist and broke something she hit. She screamed again and unlocked the screen door.

"You can come inside, Ariel. You're safe. You're not a Kesterson. I won't hurt you. I might smash some shit, but you're safe. Thought it was over, and they were in hell and never to be mentioned again. That's what happens when you think evil thoughts, huh?"

Ariel glanced around her and considered her options with the obviously violent woman.

"Come on, Arial. You're safe. That family and children have caused me an enormous amount of pain and heartache and people still worship them as demigods if not the real thing."

"Okay. I just wasn't prepared for this hostile greeting. You sure?"

"I'm sure. Sorry for scaring you. Thought it was over. Come on. I was ready to make some tea. Join me in my kitchen?"

"Sharp knives there?"

"In a drawer. I'm calm now, but I might scream and curse a tad while I'm talking."

"I can deal with that." She stepped inside and noted her bleeding hand and the broken glass from a photograph frame.

"I'll be okay. I've done worse than this and lived. I'll clean it up in the kitchen and press on with life. Come on. Sorry to have scared you. It's not your fault. You're an outsider, moving in and you didn't know. I'll give you a crash course of Kesterson Evil Love Twins 101."

Cindy sat a box of various teas and a squeeze bottle of honey on the table and followed it with a small tea kettle of steaming water.

"So, what do you want to know?" She went to work with wet paper towels, picking out the biggest pierces of glass with her fingers first, then switched to tweezers for the rest.

"Well, since everyone tells me how angelic they were, how about starting there? Why were they so bad, since birth?"

"Anyone who was born about that time, 16 of us, were dirt compared to them. They were identical twins, a boy and a girl. Whoopee shit! To hear the story later, you'd think they were the only twins ever born in the county and the whole state, and in all of America! It was ridiculous.

"And because of the twin miracle, the Kesterson family got free diapers, life insurance policies, and the hospital bills were paid. They got formula and bottles, and baby food for a year, photographs, lunch boxes, back packs, and toys at no cost. They got enough free stuff to gag half the people in North America and, the rest of us got shit on and left with bills that had to be paid. Good for a start?"

"Excellent picture. However, that was before you knew, and before you grew. What happened to fuse this anger solidly enough to last 15 years or more?"

"Valid question. They were identical. They could nearly read each other's minds. They were intelligent, witty, charming. They had their story told to magazines and television shows all over the world. Before they hit puberty, the world population had the opportunity to know them. No one knew me. I was dirt.

"Puberty is key here. Daddy and mommy played them, displayed them, and pushed them into the public's face often. They were smart. Granted. They were witty. Granted. They succeeded in nearly everything that daddy pushed them to do. Granted. They were adaptable. They were chameleons. Granted. But that's where the good stopped, and the evil love began.

"They could read each other's minds. They knew exactly what the other one liked, disliked, wanted, craved, needed, etcetera." She paused and held up her left hand and formed a circle. With her right hand, she shoved her middle finger in and out. "This is what led to their downfall. They knew each other so well, that they loved each other above the rest of the world.

"They loved each other as brother and sister, as sexual partners, as husband and wife. After they started that, it didn't take them too long to figure out that they could use that to their advantage. Marta would seduce a woman and then turn Mark on to her. He wowed her with his charm and ability to meet her every need and unspoken whim, because Marta had her and therefore they both knew. And he'd do the same with men. And then he'd turn Marta on to them."

"I think I was the third woman Marta had in her bed and it was hard to believe. I thought I died when I had the orgasm. Then she pawned me off on Mark. He was good. He was the male version of Marta, but much better. He used a lot of oral sex to calm me down and then wham!

"It was a wonderful orgasm! Better than with Marta. And he liked it too. He and I were steady on, exclusive sex partners for about seven months. Then I stopped bleeding. I didn't know why. He did. He and his daddy arranged for me to be tested. I was pregnant. During the hush-hush arrangements, I was scared to death. But, I let it slip to the gynecologist that Mark Kesterson was the only boy I had sex with, ever in my life. She explained everything to me, why I stopped bleeding, what was happening to me, and what would later. I was in paradise. Mark was the father of my baby. We would live together and raise the child. Naive bitch I was then. I was happy. I told mom, and my world caved in. She went to confront them. They paid for an abortion to solve their problem because poor little me was not important to the world. And since then, I've never been able to conceive again. I hated them all for a long time.

"And for the twins, life went on as if nothing happened to me. Marta slept with male teachers during school. Mark did the same with women teachers. They kept a tally and score book. And they kept on screwing each other, until Estelle caught them with their pants down in the barn loft. She read the riot act to them, rained a few tons of fire and brimstone on them and threatened them. Didn't work. She caught them twice again during the sexual thing with each other. Then they disappeared. Good riddance, sluts."

"And adults don't or didn't know?"

"Ninety percent of them had mortgages held by Kesterson Bank and Trust. How much would you run your mouth against the man or family who could make your life miserable? Nearly all loans were through him, personal and business. He had control! He covered it all up, like he did my abortion! If the adults knew they exercised selective memory loss and looked the other way. Now they're buried. Good. Leave it alone, please? Don't resurrect their memory for a bunch of hurting people. The miserable horny twins, the fuck head twins, the slut twins are dead. Let them rest in peace, and go back to Cincinnati."

"One more question that just surfaced, then we'll move on. How do you know that Estelle caught them when other people didn't know?"

"We might be the country, but we, the children, had our gangs and our communication networks. Marta and Mark were in many groups and there were plenty of children who knew and talked with them and other lesser entities. They had a good circle of wealthy children."

Ariel rubbed her face and drained her cup. She dropped in a fresh bag and poured hot water. "Cindy, I'd love to leave everything as is except for one reason. The twins are not buried."

"I saw the caskets? I was there! Are you crazy?"

"The caskets were a trick for helping Estelle move on and have some satisfaction and closure in her life. The caskets are empty, or so I strongly believe. I have evidence of a cremation for two individuals in June 2002. I have their remains in two urns in the trunk of my car. I bought them for $5 at the Kesterson yard sale. Ever since then, I've been plagued by nightmares of being burned on a funeral pyre, of being burned at the stake for being a slut with no remorse, and even some of the sexual escapades that you now reveal as being real. Whatever happened still remains a mystery, but the twins were cremated in June 2002. Estelle paid for it. And after talking with you, I can understand why. That stopped their incest and evil love of each other to the point of being sexually involved. If left unchecked, that could lead to genetically defective children."

"Wow! You really think the caskets are empty?"

"I do. A couple of people have made that comment. Haven't talked with the funeral home yet, but at this time, with what I've uncovered, they are empty. It was all a facade to help Estelle finish grieving and let go."

"And meanwhile the cremated ashes were displayed in her sitting room, in Oriental urns. Bizarre!"

The funeral home seemed rather dead and oppressive to Ariel. She asked Grace to accompany her and after entering and waiting for Daniel Roland, she felt it a good choice not to go alone.

Daniel walked lightly but nimbly into the waiting room and in a cordial and calming manner he greeted Grace first and then Ariel. He chatted about the weather and joked about people dying to meet him and asked the reason for the unexpected visit.

"Did death claim someone you loved, and now you need my services?"

Ariel shook her head and got control of herself. "No. I never met them, so I didn't love them. And from the people I've talked with so far, they were hated as much as they were loved. I'm here with questions regarding the Kesterson twins."

He sat back and sincerely looked sorrowful. "Oh, that was a distressing and unfortunate time for Estelle. Her husband died from an accident in 2001. Fell from the loft after a heart attack. Then the children disappeared the next year. It was a very sad time. And to this day they've never been found, alive or dead. Probably no one is looking for them now."

Ariel held up her hand. "I'm looking for them. That's why I'm here. Did you work here when they disappeared?"

"No. I've been working this facility and services for about 10 years now. I stopped my life insurance business and came to work with dad for the last two years in his life and took over from him. And no, I don't regret it. It was his wish that I do so, and this is like my second home now. I avoided it. I didn't like it. I resisted it passionately. My father knew better. And I have so many friends from the living loved ones I feel honored. My family is huge now. Do you have any more questions?"

"Uh, after that speech, I would stop if I were anyone else, but yes. A couple of people told me that the preacher, the mayor and someone here, maybe your father arranged the funeral for the twins to help Estelle. Is that rumor true?"

"Um, yes, ma'am. That is truth. After such a long the preacher and many in the community thought she would surely die of grief. So, the preacher and mayor approached my father and all was arranged to have a burial to end her suffering."

"Nice try, but it didn't work. It was all for a show. From her, I mean. How long have you run, or this funeral home run the cremation program? Was it before or after the twins' disappearance?"

His tone chilled a few degrees. "It was before. Is this going to get personal? If it comes to any question on our trust within the community, you might have to go through a court to learn what you wish. However, go ahead for now."

"I understand that, but when I reach the end of my quest, I don't want to involve any Court in this matter. I don't want them involved, because I don't want to see anyone punished for something that happened that long ago. I just wish to see some low-level moral justice done so two hurting souls can finally and forever be at peace. And I specifically mean Marta and Mark Kesterson."

He shifted his body and sat back in his chair. "Okay, Ariel. May I call you Ariel?"

"That's my name, Daniel. May I continue until you think you need a lawyer? Which would be silly, but one never knows these days, do they?"

He smiled sincerely and opened his arms with a deft and friendly wave of hands. "Do proceed, Ariel. You have my interest, attention, and honesty."

"I do know that cremation was offered and used before June 2002." She took the receipt from her purse, secured now in a plastic bag, and lay it on the desk for him.

He bent forward and studied the receipt intensely. "Wow! That is clear, shocking, and disturbing. That is my father's signature, accepting $4000 in cash for cremation of two bodies, but no names?"

"But the cash came from Estelle Kesterson on June 12, 2002, the year that their barn burned."

"There was only one death there," he said and looked apologetic to Grace. "And that was this dear woman's husband, Jack Reynolds. May he Rest In Peace."

"I understand that much. Did Roland and Rawling Funeral Home keep records of cremations back at that time? Alternatively, was it a fortunate occurrence that regulations were established later?"

"Well, some of the records are still in the basement archive or junk room. Some of them, actually a great deal of them have been updated in a computer database. We, Luke and I hired some college students to work with us a few years ago to digitize the information. Let me check for you to see if that is available. Please continue questions or comments while I do that."

"That's the main question, Daniel. The other one would be, why would either Mr. Rawling or your father be a party to a cremation and then remain silent after the fact until external pressure required a mock burial to ease Estelle's pain?"

"That is something you'd have to ask my deceased father, or a severely incapacitated Luther Rawling. Neither Luke, nor Ned, nor I worked here then. We had no clue what this was all about and had no inkling or desire to run the business. Never considered it at that time. Damn. Excuse me. I do have that information. Sorry. I never reviewed it all. Says that my father received $4000 cash from Estelle Kesterson to cremate two bodies." He shook his head. "Oh, damnation and worse, the deceased were named Marta and Mark Kesterson. Unbelievable! Why would he do that? That's a dangerous thing to do, even if there were little to no controls on the practice back then! Wow! I'm shocked. Truly. I must ask now, where are you going with this, Ariel?"

"I'm trying to do what I said when we started talking. I want to give them some relief, like forever. Since I bought the urns at the yard sale, my life has been very unpleasant. I've had many nightmares of being burned on a funeral pyre, or being burned at the stake for being a slut. And at least one person confessed to that being a reality. Was it in your opinion?"

"You must mean Cindy Braxen. Yes. Mark mainlined her for over seven month, more like eight, until she got pregnant. The kids around them, even I thought it was a wonderful thing. We believed a fairytale ending. But then Franklin arranged for the swift abortion. His vet did the job in their barn. That part is right. You have their urns?"

"Yes. Bought them at the yard sale. Their names are on the bottom plate, along with the date and this funeral home."

He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose roughly. "Oh, brother! Urns. They're oriental style urns?"

"Yes. A mountain scene with a pagoda on top, isolated and lonely. There's one red urn for Marta, and a blue urn for Mark."

"Yes! I remember them. I wasn't always here, unless my dad insisted. Death wasn't high in my list of things to think about or witness. I avoided this place as much as possible, but I remember them. He said they were for someone's special loved ones, and nothing more. And I never questioned it. Why should I? Damn!"

"And they've driven me crazy and caused many problems in my life until I finally brought them back. They're still acting up, causing dog fights at Grace's home. They don't like what happened to them."

He sat back and typed at the keyboard a few moments. "Damn again. I have the purchase here for two urns. The delivery is to be completed to Estelle Kesterson after cremation of Marta and Mark Kesterson. That is bizarre. They were ordered a few days before the fire."

"I agree, but do you understand fully where I'm coming from? I'm sure that somewhere in the house, Estelle's house, that will soon be mine; I'll find the answer. The important thing is to get them properly buried. That's the first thing to do after I go to settlement."

He sat forward and took her hand. "Ariel, I agree with you. I'm truly sorry that I couldn't help further, but I wasn't involved. Marta was a major slut and Mark was right with her, but the male version. I thought they were too close and were probably having sex with each other, but I really didn't care to investigate or prove it. But for now, I'll help you any way I can, if I can. Just contact me."

"Thanks. How bad is Luther Rawling? Could he handle a visit?"

"He can handle visits. It's just that no one can communicate with him. He'll look at you if you're standing or sitting by the bed, but he doesn't speak or respond to anything you say. Don't know if he doesn't hear, or he can't reply."

"Last question, if this leads to giving them rest, will you help with the burial? I know that I read somewhere that there's a vault required, even for cremation urns."

"Yes, Ariel. I'll be happy to help you with that and it will be free gratis from the bottom of my heart. I'd consider it my civic duty to do so and keep you within the law. No problem. Do you wish for me to take you to the nursing home?"

"No. Thanks, but I'm relying on Grace to be with me on some matters. You have yourself a great day and wait for some more folks to die so you can extend your family further."

He laughed, and gave her a mock salute. "I will, Miss Ariel. Later."

In the West Wing of Berkwood Nursing Home, Luther Rawling began his day as he did every day, waking without moving, without talking, watching whatever was on the television above the foot of his bed. He waited for someone to feed him. He waited for someone to check and change his diaper if necessary. He waited for sleep at the end of the day where no human bothered him. He waited for death, hoping it would be better than what he experienced at the moment.

The morning nurse who fed him came late, and he was annoyed, but he lay as usual and did not complain. She wiped his mouth and told him to have a nice day and left him. In his mind, he told her to piss off and took a nap. He woke with a jolt of the bed, and a tall white spirit stood near the foot, staring at him with coal black and shiny eyes.

" _What do you want?"_ Luther thought.

" _I want to tell you something important. The angel is coming. She's near. This is the last chance for you to do what's right. If you don't, you'll stay like this for another 30 years, but it will get worse for you."_

" _When I'm a blob, what do you expect me to do?"_

"You have the ability to help yourself. So, help yourself, if you wish to do it, or do nothing and expect more of the same until your funeral home gives you the service you formerly provided others. Good day."

The spirit disappeared and the room returned to normal, but Luther did not sleep as he might have on any other day. He felt light headed and breathed better than he had for years as he turned his head to the right and saw the call cord where it had been since he arrived. He willed his hand to move and felt elated to see it respond. He gripped it and pressed the red button with his thumb and held it as his arm dropped to the limit of the bed.

Soon 4 nurses rushed into his room, all of them in shock at the call from his room and wondering what mess they might find. They stopped as suddenly, two on each side of his bed.

A nurse on the right released the button from his weak grip and Head Nurse Sandra, on his left patted his shoulder. "You did that? What's up, Luther?"

He nodded, closed his eyes and coughed. "I had to. I need help. Do I look okay?"

She did a double take. "Do you look okay? You look alive now. It's triple awesome to hear you talk. Why do you ask?"

"My angel is coming and I want to look presentable. It's important to me."

"You've not mentioned that for years," Sandra said. "Not sure if this is progress or a relapse."

"Will you stop the nonsense, you silly woman! She's not a spirit angel. She's a flesh and blood woman. However, she'll do for me what the real ones would do for me. Are you sure I look okay?"

Sandra patted his arm. "Yes, Luther. You look fine."

"Will you brush my hair anyway? I want this to go right. It's my last chance."

Sandra asked one to brush his hair and bid the others leave. She followed them out of the room, taking one last look at Luther, smiling and chatting about how wonderful life was to him.

Chapter 6

Ariel adjusted to her work routine, that was interrupted only by settlement on her long-awaited estate. The first time on her property, she opened the barn doors and dropped Dog to the floor. "This is your place, girlfriend. Take care of it and keep it mouse free."

"Meow."

"Yes, I'll still feed you like always, but a nice mouse is good for protein every now and then, and it will make me happy, because I don't like them. You can't have tomcats for overnight visits, or keg parties. I don't want any calls for bailing you out of the pound. Follow those simple rules and this palace is yours."

Dog meowed at her, swiped around her ankles, and left to explore.

Ariel climbed to the hayloft, opened the western doors and sat on a hay bale. She chewed a piece of straw and enjoyed the view silently until Dog sat beside her with a meow.

"What am I thinking? I'm thinking of another pussycat that I left in Ohio, and the reminder of a great tip for Randy. Am I being too obstinate?"

Dog meowed and moved to her lap. She turned and stood on her hind legs and rested her forepaws under her breasts. Her feline eyes looked up and steady into Ariel's. "Meow."

"Do you know what I'm saying? I shouldn't be torn between the two. Pizza delivery man who got a great tip and left me a present. Former coworker that loves me and wants to hang with me forever. Most likely, he has forgotten me. She won't. I'm going crazy, Dog. I need to start living, and the house is grand. I enjoy it, and for that I'm grateful. It's going to take some time to organize, but I've got the rest of my life.

"Meow."

"Yes. Next week, I'll visit Luther and then wait for Stephanie to arrive, like I know she will. It will be a surprise visit, just for the weekend, and she'll never leave. Yes, I'm a wimp. So what? I should call her and end the pain for both of us."

"Meow."

"Same to ya, Dog. Good night."

At the doors she turned and saw Dog watching her from the edge of the loft. "Just hush, girlfriend. I don't want to hear it. Enjoy the first night in your palace and I'll see you for breakfast in the morning."

On Saturday, she asked Grace to drive her to the nursing home, and they set off. She talked with her chauffeur until they entered the depressing facility.

The receptionist gave them badges and directions, and they stopped at the nurse station.

"May I help you?" she said and scrutinized Ariel intensely.

"We're here to visit Luther Rawling. We were told to check in with you."

"Yes, ma'am. Sit a moment and I'll call Sandra for you."

She sat on a blue, hard plastic chair and asked Grace, "Is this normal?"

"No. It must be you. They know me and haven't done this with me on three visits."

"Thanks a lot."

Sandra flittered to a stop before them. "You're here to see Luther?"

Ariel detected her unease. "Yes. Is it a huge problem or inconvenience?"

"I'm not quite sure how to answer that. He's done little but lie in bed for 12 years. Now he's communicating that his angel is coming today, and he has to look presentable. Are you his angel?"

Her face scrunched, and she pointed to herself. "I'm not sure about that. He said that? I thought he was uncommunicative. When did that change happen?"

"This morning. It was the first time he's ever pressed the call button, and he asked us to brush his hair so everything would go well. Very strange, but since you're here, let's go."

Sandra entered behind them and stood by the door to watch what happened.

Luther turned his head when the door closed, and he smiled and rallied when he saw the visitors.

"Hello, Ariel Jenkins. You are a lovely young woman. I'm happy to meet you at last. Thought I might pass on before I saw you standing beside my bed."

"You know me? Sorry, but I don't know you. I didn't know you existed before a week or so ago."

"That's truth. So, first of all, forgive me. Part of me didn't want to bother you, but I was told that my actions would be the only way to have you visit me."

She moved closer to the bed and idly rested a hand on his. "Sorry again. What did you do to me, since I was in Ohio and not acquainted with you?"

He squeezed her hand and his voice trembled. "I caused the dreams of you on the funeral pyre and being burned at the stake. The dog fights, and the starling swarms were because of me. You helped matters by taking Marta and Mark with you and were so open to them. It made you easy to find. Sorry. I didn't mean to cause you pain, but I needed you to come to me, and the spirit told me you would."

"This is strange, but many strange events have occurred since I bought the urns. I'm here now. What can I do for you?"

"I know everything that you might need to know for their final freedom. Ask and I'll tell you. It never should have happened, but it did and now all I can do is relate it to you and ask forgiveness. That way, I can die in peace, and they can stop agitating the world."

"I understand most of that. Did the twins die in the barn fire some way?"

"No. They actually died the evening they were last seen at school. The fire was set the next day as a ploy to let some believe that, and many did." He sniffed and shifted his weight on the bed.

Sandra wiped his eyes and nose.

"Just let it be, unless I get overly bad. The twins were too evil, out of their father's eyes. They were forever having intercourse with each other. That came from the acute knowledge of each other and the pleasure it brought them. Several times Estelle tried to get them to stop, to no avail. That night, after a fire and brimstone lecture two days before, she caught them in the barn engaged in their own sexual world. She picked up a shovel and killed them both. She called me afterward, hysterical and crazy, and didn't know what to do."

"Why did she call you?"

"Because we had planned on leaving Gordon and going to Omaha, Nebraska where I had relatives at the time. Her act of violence changed that. So, I came up with the hasty solution to our problem. I picked the bodies up after dark and told her I would need the $4000 in cash to cover the funeral home's records. She had the money ready when I showed up and I gave her a receipt to keep it legal."

"But didn't Chester Roland sign it?"

"Yes. He knew about us and our plans. He didn't like the idea of losing me, but he knew, and when I told him what happened, he agreed to do his part. That would cover both of us in the event of a problem. I wanted to do it, but only he was certified and licensed. He helped me get them inside the building, and then he went home after certifying they were dead. That was his realm, not mine.

"I cremated them, filled the urns and gave them to Estelle. I wanted to help her bury them and end it all, but she kept them in her sitting room. I knew she would only torture herself for what she did in her rage, but she wouldn't listen to me after that. We were done. She killed her children, and that fact locked her inside a terrible hell. I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

Ariel patted his hand and his arm and ran her hand across his face. "I forgive you, but I'm not the one who you should ask."

"I've asked Him, and He has. He sent you to me, so I can confess and die in peace."

"Then die in peace, Luther. I forgive you for loving Estelle. The twins were yours, weren't they?"

"You're very wise. Yes. She could not conceive with him. That's why she turned to me to start with. The love we shared just sprung to life from a business transaction. I got her pregnant, and the idiot believed to the day he died that they were his creation. I was proud of them. He opened doors for them that I never could. It's just their damned evil love for screwing each other that did them in. And no matter what she tried, it failed. Their evil love was greater than her motherly love.

"Franklin didn't care so long as it didn't tarnish his name. I cared, but I had no real way of intervening until it was too late."

"Then rest easy and die in peace now. I never wanted you to hurt even this much. I wanted their spirits to be freed of the muck of their lives where they were not loved as they truly should have been loved. Relax now. The worst part is over, and next Saturday; they'll be buried where the tombstones are already placed."

"Good for them and the world. And now I have this tidbit for you."

"Me?"

"Yes. She's coming. Don't reject her. Enjoy life, all that is left for you without condemnation. Love her and love Dog and pay little attention to the world's prattle. Do you understand?"

"Yes. Thank you, my friend. You accomplished your mission the best way. Sleep now."

Twenty minutes after they left the facility, Sandra called to tell them that Luther died from a brain aneurysm 10 minutes after they left him.

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About the Author

**J Bennington** : Fresh out of High School, I spent 21 years in the Air Force, serving in Viet Nam, Thailand, United States, and Germany. After retiring from the Air Force, I drove a limousine under contract for Conrail, moving train crews from stations to trains, and anywhere needed. I wrote 5 books, longhand, while waiting in rail stations, State Prison fields at 2 a m, and forlorn rail crossings right out of Stephen King novels with all the demons and terror. Following that interesting but tiring job, I tackled a few independent businesses that failed. Worked two years in a restaurant as the salad bar manager. Worked 1 year as Electric Meter Reader for the City of Dover, DE. Then a friend arranged a part-time clerical position in the State Probation Office. From there I applied for full-time positions and worked 20 years for the Department of Transportation, selling Hauling Permits to truckers or trucking companies, billing companies for Outdoor Advertising, and later I paid the bills to State Contractors. I retired in February 2014 and now I'm doing what I love, writing and working to publish the books collecting electronic dust over the years.

Other Books By This Author

Please visit your favorite ebook retailer to discover other books by [J Bennington]:

Other books pending publication:

Virginia Rose (Coming May 2015)

Idoya Valdez (Coming June 2015)

Silent Train of Dreams (Coming June 2015)

The Jade Bear (Coming August 2015)

The Gemini Demons (Coming late in 2015)

Sneak Preview:

Virginia Rose excerpt:

A merciless sun beat down through a cloudless sky, scorching the earth and threatening to turn it into powder. The same threat was applied to the man whom lay face down beside the road. The shade of the trees above were of little help against the rays that burned through the parched leaves and attacked him in many spots. He had lain there in the dust for hours, hoping the lack of movement would spare him a heat stroke. Although he dozed occasionally, simply from boredom, he thought more frequently than he dozed.

Of one thing he was certain, the one fact in his life was the secret that the whole world realized and shared, Bower's Point, in the Province of Delaware was the last stop on earth. The dying seaport was bereft of life; it was the catch-all for the hopeless, the used-up, the low life people. Bower's Point was the hand basket filled with rejects resigned to descend into hell. Those who came there, stayed there, suffered there, and died there. There was no way out and no hope for the ones trapped in Bower's Point.

He felt a nudge and lazily opened one eye. He saw a set of toes, covered with dust and dried mud. He opened the eye wider and saw a small ankle that disappeared into the folds of a brown skirt. It intrigued him enough to move his head and open both eyes. The skirt, faded from age and wear, but clean, ended at the woman's waist, and was topped by a yellowed white blouse, partially covered with a light brown cloak.

The woman's tanned face had a weathered look, as if she was the spouse of a farmer. Her cheeks were dimpled and soft. Her nose was small and slightly tucked under at the tip. Her hazel brown eyes looked at him with concern. Her jet-black hair which surrounded her face fell straight and tangled at the moment, but he could see the past effects of curling above the ears and at the nape of her neck. A faded yellow scarf was tied loosely around her head.

"Are you dead?" she asked when he had looked at her for a moment.

"No, I'm not dead yet." He moved a little, shifted his body, yawned and stretched his muscles. "I may look dead, but I was just trying to stay calm and hoping the sun wouldn't bake me before it sets."

"Pity," she said. "I was rather hoping to claim your coat to keep me warm this coming winter."

"That wasn't very nice, Miss," he frowned.

A tiny smile fluttered across her face. "Since you've known me, have I ever claimed to be nice?"

"Who are you?" he asked, still frowning. "Where did you come from? I haven't seen you here before."

"I'm Virginia Rose," she said, bowing her head slightly. "I came here from Philadelphia. It's taken me a while to get here. In fact, I just arrived. That's why you haven't seen me. Were you looking for me?"

He shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck with a parched, wrinkled hand. "Why the bloody hell would I be looking for you?" he growled and stretched again.

"Pity," she sighed. "It's been like that my whole life. No one ever looks for me, but they ask about me. Who's that? Virginia Rose who? Never heard of her."

"Well, I wasn't looking for Virginia Rose, I'm sorry to say. You do look like you were a fine young woman, once."

She raised her brows. "I beg your pardon?" she spoke curtly. "You told me I wasn't very nice, wishing to keep warm this winter. Now look at you. You've become intimate with me and you insult my looks. You have a lot of nerve, sir!"

His frown deepened. "I've not become intimate with you," he informed her. "I haven't touched you at all!"

"Pity. "That's in line with no one looking for me. It's depressing you know. I mean you know my name, and where I'm from. Then you tell me I'm old and not pretty anymore. You should look at yourself. I think you are older than dirt and I'll bet you your coat that I'm younger than you."

She sat beside him. "Well?"

He suddenly laughed at her expression. "I'm sorry. I really didn't mean it as an insult. I meant I should have been looking for you many years ago when you were . . . Maybe I'd better think of something else to say."

She laughed and threw her head back. "Well, since you know me, would it be possible for me to know you?"

"That's fair enough. I'm Captain Merriweather, ex-captain of _The Willow_. I'm originally from London, England. Now I sit here in this last stop before hell and wait for the end of my life. If you wish to live and be a part of the world, Virginia, my advice is to move on. Move anywhere except to Bower's Point."

She smiled. "Thanks Captain. Do people call you that?"

He nodded. "My first name is Nathan."

"I'll call you that then. She crossed her legs and spread out her skirt.

"I'm hungry. Can you feed me?"

"Are you crazy? I have a bloody hard enough time just keeping myself alive."

"No, I'm not crazy. I simply asked if you could feed me. I take your answer to mean no. You're a hard man. You should be glad I'm not your mother. I'd take a switch to you if you were my son. I'd not be sparing the rod on such an unruly person."

"I'm bloody happy I'm not your son! What is the point of this? Why didn't you keep going? Why did you stop to bother my sleep?"

"Why were you sleeping anyway?" she asked. Inwardly she enjoyed the distress her presence created. She admired his self-control.

"Because there's no work today. The nets have all gone out on the boats and I went for a walk. If I bloody want to sleep, then I will, whether you like it or not!"

She reached into her skirt pocket, took out two apples and handed one to him. "It never hurts to ask," she said. "If I hadn't asked you, I wouldn't have known your name. You learn by asking and listening to what's said. I do hope you won't be this way forever. You will only make life more difficult for yourself."

He looked at the apple and then her. He thought to himself, _This is strange. What's she looking for? She can't be interested in me. She looks like she comes from a rich family. Watch yourself and your pockets, Nathan. She'll knock you in the head when you're not looking. When you wake, your coat, pants and money will be gone._

"I know I could have walked on," she said. "I also could have taken a rock and done you in. Then I would have your coat, shirt, pants and shoes. However that isn't me."

She took a bite from her apple and chewed slowly. "I married when I was 13 and my mama said it was high time for me. I've lived alone for many years since my husband decided he had to go west and seek his fortune. He found his death and a grave somewhere there. True, as you said, I'm not the young woman I was when I was seventeen. Right now I'm twenty and I'm worried about the future and what is going to happen to me. I'm lonely, but I'm not the kind of woman who can hang out in the bars and earn my money that way. That isn't a life; that's a living death.

"Five years I've been alone. I've wandered from Philadelphia to here. Why did I stop to talk to you? I don't know. You didn't seem to be an unkind person, lying there sleeping. I still think you're a nice person even though you try to be as mean as a baited bear now that I woke you up. So don't pretend to be bitter with me or with life."

"Agreed," he said. "You still haven't answered my question. Why did you choose me?"

"I don't really know. I just decided to stop. I have no particular reason. I'm a hard woman. You have to be to live in this world. If I were simply a little fluff, like some women are, I'd probably be dead by now, trying to live on my own. It's not easy. However, now that you're awake and alive, I find that I like you. I hope you like me a little. Do you?"
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