 
#

### "SPIRITS CLIFF"

### PUBLISHED BY DOUG SENIOR AT SMASHWORDS

### COPYRIGHT 2017 DOUG SENIOR

### Cover by Vila Design

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### PROLOGUE

Flop-sweat dripped down Mayor Julius Wellington's neck as he waited at one of the town's longest red lights. His wife, Lenore, sat perfectly still beside him in their new 1981 Cadillac. Looming before them was their destination -- the most famous natural landmark in the area, Spirits Cliff. Its jutting rocky outline resembled a face - that of a craggy old mountain man and it towered over the small town of Kingsbury as if it had a mind of its own. Julius could swear it was smirking at him as he stared through the windshield. He reached for the air conditioning vent and aimed it at his face. The cold breeze was a welcome distraction from his churning stomach.

"Honey, I don't think I can do this!" Julius was losing his nerve, but Lenore wasn't.

"We must do this," she responded. Living her last hour on earth was evoking a strength she hadn't experienced in a long time.

Julius reached for the bottle of water at his side and forced down a gulp. Was it his imagination or was his esophagus closing? A horn blared from the car behind them indicating the red light had long changed to green. Little did that impatient driver know what he was encouraging. Julius slammed his foot on the accelerator and the Cadillac jolted down Gateway Avenue.

Dusk was waning into night as they made a wide turn onto the gravel road leading up the mountain. The newly-planted spruce trees that lined the road swayed as they sped by. The silent couple stared ahead in a trance-like state, oblivious to the dust stirred up behind them.

Within ten minutes, they reached a dead end. Julius pulled the car into the turn-around and stopped the engine. Unfortunately, there was no one in the vicinity to spoil their plans. He turned to stare at his wife's moonlit face glimmering with all the qualities of which he had fallen in love thirty years before. Tears welled up in his eyes as his hand landed on her shoulder. She felt his touch, but did not respond. She only stared into the semi-darkness knowing she would soon become a part of it herself.

They stepped out of the car and Julius clasped Lenore's hand. His palm was cold and clammy; hers was dry as a bone. They started their ascent up the hill transfixed on their mission. The Cliff anxiously awaited their arrival. The higher they climbed, the more its energy pervaded their beings. It was nearly dark when they reached the crest. Julius recognized the area. He had never dared to return until now. And only now because he was desperate.

"It's beautiful," Lenore said as she gazed out over the lights of her hometown.

The distant haze took on an unnatural hue as the sun sank below the horizon. Julius put his arm around her and they huddled close together wishing they could stand there for eternity. The slight breeze blew into stronger gusts. They turned away from the view and focused on what was behind them.

"It's over here," Julius said pointing to a dark place. The memory of it still haunted him.

Lenore took a deep breath. She pulled away from her husband and made a final glance down at the town she loved. "I'm ready," she said.

They walked toward the back of the Cliff. An extreme heat emanated beneath their feet that clashed with the cold air stinging their faces.

Julius resisted as they drew near the spot where the action was to take place. He stopped. "Honey, I can't."

Her eyes indicated there was no turning back.

"Then I'm going with you," Julius said.

Lenore shook her head and put her fingers to his lips. "No, this is my final gift to you."

The Cliff would make it relatively easy for them. All they had to do was let go. They released each other's hand and looked out over the dark ravine. Julius stepped back and watched his wife slowly spin into a whirlwind.

Seconds later Julius Wellington stood alone. He gazed down over the edge – realizing that this had not been the normal assisted suicide. The truth was that she had died specifically in this way for him. As he turned away with a renewed strength, he knew that no one was going to understand that, except the Cliff itself.

### CHAPTER 1

### THE FRIENDS

Countdown! 5-4-3-2-1... The bell sounded and the school doors swung open. Two boys darted out of their 6th grade classroom ahead of anyone else. Christmas vacation had officially begun and these two were ready to roll. Their mad dash ended half-way across the football field.

Physically, they were quite the mismatched duo. Randy was tall, lanky, and uncoordinated with skinny arms and legs. His fire-engine red hair made him stand out wherever he went. Jeremy on the other hand was small and compact. At 4' 5" he was the shortest kid in his class -- making him look at least two years younger than his 11 years. Neither mixed well with the other kids and had slowly become shy outsiders, smoldering underneath.

They inhaled the fresh winter air and exhaled the pent-up emotions they had harbored since school began in September. Spirits Cliff peered down at them as they settled into a slower gait. Feeling its gaze, they looked up at the beguiling rock face. The Cliff seemed to smile back at them, enticing the youngsters to come up for a visit.

"I hope it snows. I like when the old man on the hill has white hair..." Jeremy said.

His fascination with the Cliff was well-known. He had climbed up the mountain several times – alone, even though his mother had strictly forbidden it. But now Jeremy was anxious to share his experiences with the first real friend he ever had.

A sly look enveloped his face. "You wanna go up there tomorrow?"

Randy responded with a smirk. Jeremy must be kidding.

"It's really cool being that high up," Jeremy bragged realizing he wasn't being taken seriously. "You can see everybody's houses and even over into Center City. There's all these real weird, funny-looking rocks, and there's lizards up there, and I even heard coyotes."

Randy listened to Jeremy's sales pitch as his eyes focused on the Cliff's tempting face. "My mom would get really mad if we tried that."

"Yeah, so would mine. But we don't have to tell them."

A rush of exhilaration filled Randy's body. It didn't look that far to the top. "How long does it take to get up there?"

"Only an hour. Maybe an hour and a half," Jeremy sputtered, deliberately underestimating the time by a long shot.

"I've got to work at Mr. Wellington's tomorrow. I told him I would rake all the leaves up in his front yard before the snow comes."

"That's perfect, Randy. I know a short cut up the mountain by old man Wellington's house. I've used it." Jeremy had all the answers.

Randy shook his head.

"Are you afraid?" Jeremy asked trying a new tactic.

"No, I'm not afraid!" Randy bristled at the word. He gave his friend a slight shove and a sly grin emerged. "If we go, we can't tell anyone or I'll get into a lot of trouble." The last thing he wanted was to have his high-strung mother find out.

Jeremy grinned. He knew he had won as he put up his hand for a high-five."You won't be sorry, Randy. It's awesome up there."

Their hands slapped as Randy's older sister Jan and her friend Ginny crept up behind them.

"Randy! You and Jeremy better not go anywhere!" Jan's warning caught them by surprise. Had they already been caught in their plan without even doing anything yet?

"Remember Mom said to come home right away, cuz we've been invited over to Mr. Wellington's after school today for a Christmas party. We're going to meet his niece from out of town."

Randy and Jeremy looked at each other, both breathing a sigh of relief. Their secret was still safe. "Yeah, yeah. I know," Randy said crashing back into reality.

"I'll be there too, Randy," said Ginny, winking her false eyelash at him. "Your sister invited me."

The heavily made-up 11-year-old was a bigger joke at school than Randy. Her mother sold Mary Kay Cosmetics and regarded her daughter as a walking advertisement for her business. Ginny Stewart had become a thorn in his side, ever since she had decided he was to be her boyfriend. She and Jan had an arrangement. Ginny provided the plain-looking Jan with make-up which she would cake on in the school bathroom before first period, and then wipe off before she went home so their mom wouldn't find out. In return, Jan would help Ginny hook her misfit brother. Randy cringed as he looked at her and then turned to his friend.

"Jeremy, you want to come with us to the party?" he asked.

"He's not invited." Jan frowned at the prospect.

"Neither was Ginny! And anyway, Mr. Wellington won't mind." Randy was sure of that.

Jan turned on her heel and let out a big harrumph. "Remember, go right home," she said giving Jeremy a dirty look as she passed. Ginny stared at Randy as she brushed by, hoping their eyes would meet. Randy saw to it that they didn't.

"Tomorrow we're going to be explorers!" Jeremy exclaimed as soon as the girls were out of earshot. Their secret pact was intact. The boys turned simultaneously and stared at the glistening Cliff. And the Cliff looked back at them --- with interest.

### CHAPTER 2

### THE FIGHT

The boys' daydreaming came to a crashing halt when a football sailing through the air smacked Randy on the side of his head. It struck him with such force that he was nearly knocked to the ground.

Unfortunately, the football belonged to Bart, the school bully. As the dreaded tormentor led his posse towards them, Randy and Jeremy knew they were in for trouble. It seemed the odd couple stood out in a crowd. The pair had unwittingly become magnets for harassment at Kingsbury Middle School.

"Hey, Beet-Head, you got in the way of my football," Bart taunted Randy with a snicker.

The other boys dutifully laughed. Randy and Jeremy realized they were outnumbered. 5 against 2 were not good odds.

As Bart snatched his football from the ground, the two friends attempted to just walk away -- but it was not to be that easy. As they crossed their intimidator's path, Bart thrust his foot out. Jeremy stumbled and fell to the ground. Randy helped him up.

"You two are a couple of dumb-asses!" Bart snarled. The two friends' faces flushed -- Randy's with anger and Jeremy's with fear.

"C'mon guys. Let's get away from these wimps." Bart motioned to his band of merry men that it was time to move on. The jerk had decided he had dished out enough abuse for now. He had made his point -- whatever that was.

But Randy couldn't quite let it go -- the redhead had a short fuse. As the group passed by, he knocked the football out of Bart's hands. It bounced up to hit the bully right in the nose. That was all Bart needed.

"Run!" screamed Jeremy, knowing that would be the best thing to do. But it was too late... Bart grabbed Randy, ripping his shirt.

"Hey! Cut it out," Randy yelled.

"What are you going to do about it?" Bart gripped Randy's arm and twisted it behind his back.

"Let go!" Randy hollered. Bart pulled Randy's arm even harder. "Ow!! You're breaking my arm!"

Finally Randy broke free, kicking Bart on the leg. Bart lunged at him and both boys fell to the ground with Bart on top and Randy squirming on the bottom. Bart's gang of cowards rallied their leader on. Jeremy stood immobile, watching his friend get beat up, afraid to jump into the fray, knowing the others would pounce on him if he dared.

Randy was not a good fighter, flailing away with attempted strikes while trying his best to avoid Bart's punches. Every once in awhile he got in a good blow, but each of Randy's hits only made Bart more furious, retaliating with something even stronger. The fight ended when a left-hook landed squarely on Randy's right eye. Bart saw that he had thrown a good punch. He got up, looked down at Randy and gave him a slight kick for good measure.

"You better stay outta my way!" Bart growled. Suddenly realizing they might draw the attention of teachers who could be driving by, Bart and his buddies ran from the scene. Randy lay sprawled on the ground.

"Are you okay?" Jeremy asked as he knelt down to his friend. Randy had clearly taken a good thrashing.

Randy rolled over to face his friend, "Yeah," he mumbled.

"Let's go back and tell one of the teachers," Jeremy reasoned.

"Are you crazy? No way! Bart would find a way to kill us!"

"Looks like he got you pretty good in the eye," Jeremy said the obvious. Bart had clearly won this skirmish. Randy put his hand up to the cut, touching the sore spot as he glared at Bart and his friends in the distance He reached out for Jeremy's hand to help him to his feet. "Why didn't you help me?"

"I...I couldn't. Those other four guys would've pulverized me!" The dreaded feeling of guilt engulfed Jeremy's body.

"Well you could've at least tried!" Randy brushed himself off. His clothes were covered in dirt, both his shirt and pants were torn, and his eye was already swelling up,

They were half way home when Randy realized that he would have to explain his appearance to his mother. He knew she would freak out seeing him. He was going to have to make something up. If he told her he'd gotten into a fight, she would call the school and make a bigger mess. Maybe they could sneak in the back way through the kitchen.

But that tactic was a disaster. They were spotted as soon as they hit the door and Mrs. Belmont went into immediate hysterics. Randy tried to hide his body behind his friend, but his mother shoved Jeremy aside.

"Oh, God! What happened to you, my baby?" She dropped to her knees in front of him for a closer inspection.

"Nothing, Mom. We were just playing a little football after school. I know I shouldn't have played in these clothes. I sorta got carried away and I got kind of dirty," Randy said totally rehearsed.

"Look at that eye!" Mrs. Belmont. "Oh, my Lord!" Her valium had clearly lost its effect. "Jan, get me some ice!" she yelled at her daughter who had just come into the kitchen.

"Jeremy hit me by accident with the football."

She turned to Jeremy wondering how true the statement was.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Belmont," said Jeremy on cue. "I thought he saw me throw it."

Jan rolled her eyes as she tossed her mother a bag of frozen peas. She didn't believe this story for a minute. Mrs. Belmont pressed the frozen peas on Randy's eye while he grimaced. That felt worse.

"Randy, honey, can you still see out of that eye?"

"Not with these peas on it!" he yelled trying to pull away.

"I don't understand how you get so banged up!"

"Well, uh....touch football kind of became tackle football," he said continuing the lie.

Mrs. Belmont continued the interrogation as she led her son up the stairs for further questioning. There were scratches up and down his arms and a scraped and bleeding knee peaking out under his torn pants. The worst was the cut over his eyebrow where Bart had nailed him. Mrs. Belmont washed it gently and dabbed on some Neosporin with a band-aid covering the gash.

"I don't think you better go to Mr. Wellington's today, baby."

Randy wondered if she would ever stop calling him baby! He desperately wanted to escape to the party just to get away from her smothering. Major convincing made Mrs. Belmont finally relent.

Once he was alone in the bathroom, Randy stared at the bandage over his eye in the mirror. Bart would pay for this somehow. The young boy's mind raced with revenge strategies. And Jeremy was not off the hook either for failing to come to his rescue.

Jan and Jeremy were waiting downstairs for him to start the 2-block trek to Wellington's house. Without much persuasion, Jeremy had decided to crash the party. "Let's go!" Randy said as he ambled down the stairs.

As soon as they hit the sidewalk, Jan started in. "I know what you told Mom didn't really happen. You look like you got beat up!"

"Jan, shut up!" Randy had had enough for the day. He quickened his pace trying to avoid her.

"You weren't playing football! Who'd you get into a fight with?"

"Bart," Jeremy said volunteering the information.

Jan was well aware of Bart. "I bet he came out of it without a scratch. You better learn to defend yourself, Randy. You're going to grow up to be 98-pound weakling."

Her words cut through his heart, further threatening his 11-year-old masculinity. He had been disgraced enough by Bart, without having to endure insults from his own flesh and blood. His body was starting to ache as they continued on. It had already been a very long afternoon.

### CHAPTER 3

### THE WELLINGTON MANOR

"Bring it in here, Vincent." Mr. Wellington pointed to the large space that had been cleared in the den where all the Christmas trees had stood for over half a century. There would be no deviation from tradition.

Vincent set the tree upright in the corner. The two old men lifted the massive 12-foot Fraser Fir into the stand. Mr. Wellington then held onto the tree's trunk while his butler stooped to the floor to fasten it in tightly.

"Does it look straight?" Wellington gasped trying to catch his breath.

Visiting grand-niece Diane jumped up and down watching the old men secure it in place. "Yes, Uncle Julius!"

Mr. Wellington fell back into his favorite Victorian Spoon Back armchair. "This is going to be one of the best trees we've ever had." He stretched his arms out waiting for a hug.

Diane responded. She loved staying with her uncle. Even though she felt his house was a bit old and formal, it gave her a sense of a home -- something her parents seemed incapable of providing. They had decided to spend Christmas in Dubai -- courtesy of the oil firm of which Diane's father was president. Diane didn't seem to fit into their plans, so Uncle Julius had come to the rescue, offering to take her in for the holidays. Wellington and his staff of two, aging butler Vincent and the newly-hired housekeeper Katy, would pull out all the stops to entertain the little girl. After all, Christmas was a big deal to a ten-year-old.

"Thank you for having me here, Uncle Julius." Diane gave her uncle a big kiss on the cheek.

Christmas had not been a festive holiday for Mr. Wellington since his wife, Lenore, had died twelve years earlier. But maybe this year would be special. Seeing Christmas through the eyes of a child might bring a whole new perspective.

He knew Diane would appreciate his plans. Inviting some children her own age for today's Christmas party was only the first event. Holiday festivities in town and a personal visit from Santa Claus, played by one of Wellington's old cronies, would follow. A sleigh ride at the nearby mountain resort would be worked in and of course he would be showering her with Christmas presents. Then a New Year's celebration welcoming in 1993.

"Now Vincent, you start by stringing the lights. Katy, bring in those boxes of ornaments that we pulled down from the attic," he said pointing towards the dining room.

Wellington was used to giving orders. He had been the town's mayor for an unprecedented seven terms. During his tenure, he was known as a no-nonsense leader. By the time he had retired nearly eight years ago, Kingsbury had grown into a prosperous little community of 20,000. He still maintained important connections with the top town officials. If he wanted something, he usually got it. Make that always got it.

And why not? His family had migrated to Kingsbury in the mid-1800s and originally owned all the surrounding land. Everyone in town knew the Wellington name. There was a Wellington Park nearby, Wellington Road on the east side of town, and a statue of Julius' great-grandfather Chester Wellington in the downtown square. The family had been huge donors to the city. Many people wondered why the town hadn't been named Wellington!

His parents had built their large Victorian house in 1929. Julius was actually born in one of the first floor bedrooms. He attended the town's acclaimed public schools through 12th Grade. Shortly after his graduation, he was given a job at his father's law firm, deciding to forego college. Eight years later, he was elected as Kingsbury's youngest mayor ever.

Even as his life changed, one thing remained constant. His residence was always the house at 52 Juniper Road. His parents passed away -- but he remained in the house. When he married, he expected his new wife to take up residence in his house. That was nearly forty years ago. He figured he would always live here......and die here.

Christmases past flashed through Wellington's mind as he and Diane watched Vincent string the lights and Katy lug in box after box of ancient decorations.

"Okay, this is all of them, Mr. Wellington!" Katy panted, nearly taking a header as she tripped over the garland hanging out of the final box.

"Careful, Katy, these decorations have been in the family for years. They're priceless!" scolded Wellington, ignoring the fact that she could have hurt herself. "Now, as soon as Vincent is finished we'll put on all the ornaments before the other children arrive."

He wanted everything perfectly orchestrated his way. "They can help us put on the tinsel." He certainly didn't want kids handling his precious historical treasures. "We need some more lights over here on the left," he said to Vincent pointing to a top branch.

Vincent knew the Christmas routine well. He lit the tree in record time. "How's that?"

"Nice job as usual," Wellington said.

Diane's eyes twinkled with delight. Katy also approved of Vincent's work. "Fantastic! Maybe the tree will brighten this place up."

A scowl crossed Wellington's face, even though he suspected the room could use some color. Everything seemed to have a gray/brown hue. In fact, the multitude of antiques and ancient furniture in all the rooms gave the mansion a museum atmosphere.

Katy opened box after box. Even these old ornaments look dreary! "How about the garlands?" she said finally seeing something bright. "You want to hang these, Diane?"

"Those go on after the ornaments, Katy!" Wellington said snatching them away from her.

"What a control freak!" Katy mumbled as she turned away making sure the old man didn't hear her.

Wellington threw the garland back in the box. He was still not sure how Katy was going to work out. At age 30, Katy was unmarried and still childlike herself. Her saving grace was that Diane had immediately bonded with her.

"Speaking of ornaments, Diane and I bought some bright new ones at the Big 10," Katy said. She walked over to one of the marble-top tables and picked up a plastic bag.

"The Big 10?" Wellington hated the Big 10. Those big warehouse stores drove him crazy. He liked the smaller specialty stores where personal service was still important. "You want to put some chintzy Big 10 ornaments on our beautiful tree?" Wellington huffed. Katy had certainly overstepped her boundaries.

She unveiled the first one and presented it to her boss. "These are two Little Mermaid ornaments. Diane's favorite character is Ariel from Little Mermaid," Katy said out of the corner of her mouth.

"Oh, these will go right on the front of the tree," Wellington said without missing a beat. He would do anything for his beloved little niece -- even hanging some gaudy ornaments from Big 10 amongst his adored heirlooms.

"Do you like them, Uncle Julius?" Diane asked smiling at Ariel.

"I love them." Wellington melted.

"But what does chintzy mean?" the little girl asked.

Wellington had been caught in his own words. She doesn't miss anything, does she? he thought.

"It means sparkly," Katy interceded as she sat and unpacked more of Wellington's ornaments. "They'll stand out really nice with the lights. Won't they, Mr. Wellington?"

"Yes, they're sparkly!" Wellington looked at Katy and snickered. Maybe the new hire will work out after all.

"Let's put on some Christmas music," Katy said changing the subject. "There's a station in town that's only playing Christmas songs." She stood up, inadvertently knocking one of Wellington's ornaments off her lap.

Wellington gasped as Katy reached down to scoop it out of the air just as it was about to hit the ground. "Don't worry, everything is under control!" she said realizing she had almost given the old man a stroke. She gingerly handed it to him and scampered over to the old-fashioned hi-fi that sat in the corner of the room.

"Does this thing work?" she asked.

"Of course it works," Vincent said. He brushed her away and reached for the controls.

It was only seconds when the sounds of Sleigh Ride were ringing through the room to brighten their spirits.

"Excellent idea, Katy!" Wellington approved. Diane began to dance to the music in the middle of the room. It was suddenly Christmas at the Wellington manor.

"I'll get the eggnog, sir!" Vincent said heading towards the kitchen. The time had come!

Katy sang slightly out-of-tune with the Christmas songs and continued to unpack the boxes. She unwrapped the individual ornaments and laid them carefully on the table next to her. She didn't want to alarm her employer again. Mr. Wellington would then methodically pick each one up, look at the tree, and make a big production of hanging it on a specific branch.

"This is pretty!" Katy said finding an ornament that finally met her approval.

Wellington let out a big sigh. "I remember exactly when we bought that." Katy handed him the huge off-white globe with a picture of a Christmas wreath on it.

"You and your wife?" Katy asked knowing he was whirling back into the past.

Wellington held it out in front of him. "It was our second Christmas. Honey found this beauty in a little store on our trip up to a mountain get-away up in the Sierras." He always referred to his wife as Honey in their 25 years of marriage. "It started to snow right when we arrived. When we woke up, the next morning, we found that we were snowed in. The roads were blocked. We couldn't get out. Luckily we had provisions but we ended up spending Christmas Eve and Christmas in this little cabin all alone. This was our only decoration. We hung it on a little hook over the mantle while we warmed ourselves by the fireplace. We held each other for hours and just stared at it."

"How romantic!" said a teary-eyed Katy.

"Every year after that she would hang this -- always in the front of the tree."

Diane gently took the ornament from her uncle's hand and walked to the tree. With a careful touch she hung it right between her two Little Mermaid ornaments. She returned to Uncle Julius and gave him a big hug. She was too young to remember her aunt, but had been told by her parents at one point that her Aunt Lenore had died and gone to heaven. She knew little else about her. This was the first time Uncle Julius had even remotely mentioned his deceased wife.

As they sat on the couch, both stared in silence at the tree. Wellington mourned his beloved Lenore, while Diane thought of her absent globe-trotting parents. Meanwhile, Katy had gone off into a sad world all her own as she listened to Karen Carpenter sing Merry Christmas, Darling.

Vincent encountered the sorry-looking threesome as he burst through the doorway with a tray of eggnog. He realized the festivities had definitely gone south since he had left.

"Oh that Karen Carpenter does it to me every Christmas," Katy sobbed.

At that moment, the doorbell rang, startling everyone out of their funk. Just your typical mood-swing at Wellington Manor! But now it was time to snap out of it. It's Party Time!

### CHAPTER 4

### THE CHRISTMAS PARTY

Jan's friend, Ginny, was the first to arrive \-- all decked out in her brightest Christmas finery. She was dressed from head to toe in red -- a mini-dress with little straps to hold it up over leggings with glittery sparkles and three crimson bows in her teased-out hair. She topped it off wearing a garland around her neck like a boa.

"I know it's Christmas, but I think she dressed as the wrong Madonna," Katy whispered to Vincent.

Diane and Mr. Wellington turned to greet the new arrival. "I'm Mr. Wellington." The old man walked over to welcome her. "You look festive today," he said doing a double-take at Ginny's outlandish outfit.

"My mother bought me this dress." She twirled around to show it off.

"Oh, it's lovely, dear," Wellington sputtered. He was hoping Diane might hit it off with some of the children in the neighborhood, but wasn't so sure about this one. He vaguely recognized the little girl, but was well-aware of her mother, who was somewhat of a legend on the block due to her short skirts, loud voice, and raunchy personality.

"This is my niece Diane." Wellington pulled her in front of him. "She's come all the way from Texas."

The two girls smiled at each other. "I came from right down the street in the pink house," Ginny said, having no idea where or what Texas was. "I'm Ginny."

The two little girls stared at each other for a few seconds until Diane mustered up some words. "Isn't our Christmas tree beautiful!" she said, directing Ginny's attention to the corner where it stood.

"Hey, that's Ariel!" Ginny made a beeline for The Little Mermaid Christmas ornaments.

"Do you like Ariel too?" Diane joined Ginny at the tree, immediately perking up at their mutual interest.

"Yes, I do!" Ginny reached out to touch them. Wellington thanked his lucky stars that she didn't have her little paws on the good stuff.

"You're the first to arrive, Ginny," Wellington said as he hurried over to guard the tree. "There are a couple other children invited. They'll be here soon."

"Yes, Randy's coming. He's my boyfriend," Ginny declared proudly. She wanted to make that perfectly clear to Diane right off the bat – though it certainly would have been news to Randy who was now sauntering up the front walk with Jan and Jeremy.

Just before the threesome got to the door, Jeremy made an abrupt halt. "I've never been in here before," he said growing apprehensive.

From the outside, the Wellington home looked a bit scary. The two-story monstrosity was by far the oldest house on the street. It had been built long before the other homes in the area and had once stood on a huge parcel of land by itself. But the Wellington family had gradually sold off the acreage which was then divided into small lots. New streets were put in and smaller tract houses were built, all around the old 1929 mansion which now stood out like a sore thumb.

"Well you weren't invited to begin with. So he may really get mad at you when he sees you." Jan relished making Jeremy shudder.

"You think old man Wellington will throw me out?" Jeremy turned to Randy for assurance.

"No, he won't! And don't call him that."

"Mr. Wellington is old. I think he's in his 50s or 60s or something," Jeremy said. "And I heard he doesn't like kids either!" He looked up at the weird old house, wondering if he was about to encounter the world of The Addams Family.

Randy was one of the few youngsters in town who wasn't scared of Wellington. He had been doing yard work for him for about a year and usually had a good time over at the antiquated house. Many times after his Saturday shift, he and Vincent would play catch with a football in the backyard. Katy would make sure he had water and something to eat. And sometimes Mr. Wellington would invite him in and end up telling tales about events that had happened in town long ago. Randy liked to listen and Wellington loved having an audience.

"You know I don't think I'm going to go in there," Jeremy said turning around ready to run away.

"Don't wimp out on me again!" Randy blurted out, reminding them both of Jeremy's inaction during the after-school skirmish. He was getting very tired of Jeremy's skittishness.

That was all it took. Jeremy was going in. They approached the large intimidating front door and rang the bell. Jeremy was surprised when the bell sounded normal and almost disappointed when Vincent opened the door looking nothing like Lurch.

"Hello, Randy. Hello, Jan. Oh, and who are you?" Vincent asked looking down at the interloper.

"I'm Randy's friend," said Jeremy, not having the wits to say his name.

"I invited him. Is that okay, Vincent?" Randy asked.

Vincent smiled. "Of course, Randy. Come on in kids."

As the children entered, both Jan and Jeremy looked around inquisitively."Wow, this does look like The Addams Family place," Jeremy said. Jan nodded in agreement.

"Where does that go?" Jeremy whispered to Randy pointing at the formidable, but worn-out looking staircase.

"That goes up to the bedrooms. I've never been up there before."

"I wonder if any ghosts live up there." Jeremy's imagination was starting to run wild. He was always very good at scaring himself.

"I hear that his wife might have died here. Her name was Lenore Wellington," Jan chimed in.

Lenore Wellington sounded like a ghost's name, Jeremy thought. Surely he would have nightmares tonight.

Vincent led them through the dark foyer into the living room. The hard-wood floor seemed to creak at every step they took. The heavy draperies hung over the windows from ceiling to floor and were all drawn tight, so no outside light could filter in. The straight-back chairs and davenport looked as uncomfortable as a bed of nails. Everything looked gray and there was a slight musky odor. The place had no doubt seen better days. Randy walked with Vincent several feet ahead of the two newbies who were both frightened and enthralled at what they were seeing.

"You better not touch anything, Jeremy. This stuff is worth millions of dollars." Jan said.

She pointed to the creepy knick knacks that sat on doilies! Figurines of three little kids in short pants with demented-looking smiles holding pails of water! A large gray elephant with its trunk up and tusks looking sharp enough to gore someone if it came alive! A china organ grinder with a leash around the neck of a daft looking monkey with big white teeth! Hanging on the walls were portraits of people who appeared quite unhappy -- not a smile to be seen. Jeremy gave Jan a frightened look. He wouldn't dare touch anything,

The butler turned around just in time to see the two stragglers gazing across the room at a large portrait prominently displayed on the far wall.

"This way, children." Vincent motioned towards the den.

"Who's that?" Jeremy asked pointing his finger at the picture of a woman who seemed to stare ominously back at him.

"That is a painting of Mr. Wellington's late wife, Lenore," Vincent revealed.

"The ghost!" Jeremy whispered to Jan. Shivers went up and down their spines.

"Wow, this place is weird!" Jeremy muttered.

"Keep quiet!" Randy said hitting him on the shoulder. He had been inside the house so many times before that neither the smell nor the old fashioned furnishings or pictures fazed him.

"What is your name?" Vincent suddenly asked Jeremy, startling him.

"Uh, J...Jeremy West," he stuttered.

They had reached the entrance to the den. Vincent announced their arrival as if they were royalty. "Master Randy and Miss Jan Belmont and their friend Master Jeremy West," he proclaimed, knowing Mr. Wellington would get off on the stilted formality.

"Welcome children. Hello Randy, Jan..." Wellington placed the last of his ornaments on the tree and walked over to the threesome. He glanced down at a cowering Jeremy. "Hello, there..."

Randy could sense the awkward moment and decided to put Jeremy out of his misery. "This is my best friend, Jeremy. I invited him. I hope that's okay."

"Of course it is! Come on in. I want you all to meet my niece, Diane." Wellington proudly presented her. "Randy is my special helper. He takes good care of my yard. Don't you?"

Randy blushed at being so prominently displayed to the little girl who he thought looked quite pretty. They smiled at each other without saying a word. Their moment was quickly interrupted when Ginny pushed her way between them. She reached up to touch the bandage over Randy's eye.

"What happened to you?" she asked.

Randy blushed some more. This was the last thing he wanted to be reminded of at this point. He drew away from her, opting to sit on a nearby sofa. Jeremy followed him.

"Yes, sit down everyone," Wellington said taking charge. "Katy, bring in the refreshments, please!" He turned back to Randy. "Yes, what did happen, my boy?"

Randy looked around the room and saw all eyes were on him. He decided to embellish the made-up story, proudly wearing his bandage as a badge of manliness, saying that he had been injured in a football game in which of course he had scored the winning touchdown. Ginny nudged her way on the sofa beside him enthralled as he told the lie, ready for any attention that he might throw at her. Meanwhile, Jan decided to hold her tongue – she had given her brother enough grief for one day.

"How do you like the tree?" Wellington asked after Randy finished up the tall tale. "These ornaments have been in my family for years."

"Wow, those look real old." Jeremy wandered over for a closer look. "We have all new ones on our tree," he boasted.

Mr. Wellington snorted in disgust. He was well aware that he was considered an old fuddy-duddy by the youngsters in town. He had heard the term Old Man Wellington and it hurt him deep down. But he supposed to children, he must seem quite out-of-date.

"Well, don't touch them, now!" he said no doubt enhancing his bad reputation.

Jeremy backed away.

"Would you kids like to help put the tinsel on the tree?" Wellington asked, making it sound as if it were a big honor. The kids all nodded.

Vincent handed out small handfuls of tinsel and Wellington proceeded to tell everyone how to properly hang it. The girls followed directions and were meticulous putting on each piece one at a time while Randy and Jeremy clumped bunches on hurriedly and were the first to dig into the cookies and soft drinks. The party was soon buzzing at full swing within a half hour once everyone had a sugar high.

"Now, kids! Come on over here!" Katy yelled over their noise.

She had set up a craft table with colored paper, glue, glitter, crayons, and Christmas stickers. The kids sat down and stared at everything she had placed on the table. "Each of you can make one Christmas card, okay? Make it for the person you love the most!" she said.

The kids thought for a moment and then dug in.

"Watch so they don't get glue all over everything," Vincent whispered to Katy as paper and glitter started to fly.

"A little Elmer's glue will come right out of this ratty old rug," she said winking at him. "Don't worry, I'll watch it!" She circled the table egging the kids on. Randy and Jan both made a card for their mother. Ginny made one for Randy. Diane made one for her parents. Jeremy made one for his imaginary friend Homer. Mr. Wellington watched his niece loosen up and enjoy the company of the other children. At last, some life in the mansion!

Diane turned to the other two girls once the card-making had drawn to a close. "You wanna see my presents?"

"Sure! You got your presents already?" Jan asked.

"Oh, yes. I always get my presents early. Mommy and Daddy are usually gone somewhere for Christmas. This year I got three dolls," Diane stated matter-of-factly.

"Three?? Wow!" Ginny was truly impressed.

Diane ushered the two girls out of the room with Mr. Wellington following -- the control freak that he was. However, the two boys had no intention of looking at dolls. Randy finished up his mother's elaborate Christmas card, while Jeremy sat motionless on the sofa.

Katy noticed how Jeremy had withdrawn. She squatted down in front of him. "How many cookies did you eat?"

"I think fifteen." Jeremy looked a little green. "Maybe I should be getting home. I forgot to tell my mother that I was coming over."

Katy gasped at that newsflash. "She must be worried to death about you! You're going to call your mother right now and tell her where you are!"

Jeremy had done this before. He would go out on his own and just forget to let his mother know where he was. He just didn't think. Katy dragged him to the other room to use the phone. When he came back to the den a couple minutes later, it was obvious that his mother was not pleased.

"I've got to go home now," he announced with jacket in hand.

"I'll walk you home, son." Vincent said. He bustled out to retrieve his coat.

Jeremy looked over at Randy. "Don't forget. I'll see you over here tomorrow at 11?" Come hell or high water, Jeremy wanted to take his new friend up on the Cliff to show him a good time. It might make up for his failure to come to his rescue earlier.

"Yeah. Around 11. Meet me behind Mr. Wellington's garage in the alley," Randy whispered. "Nobody will see us leave from there." The secrecy of their mission was adding to the excitement.

Vincent arrived with his coat and he and Jeremy were off.

Now alone in the room, Randy drifted over to the Christmas tree. The sore above his eye was throbbing -- reminding him once again of the punishing he had received earlier. He wondered if Bart would have the guts to do what he and Jeremy were going to attempt tomorrow. He jumped and let out a sharp yelp when a hand tapped on his shoulder.

"I didn't mean to scare you," Mr. Wellington said backing up. "Sit down, Randy. We'll stay in here awhile. Diane's still showing off her dolls."

An embarrassed look appeared on Randy's face. All of sudden he felt goofy for jumping. He climbed on one of the straight-back chairs.

"How's that eye of yours doing?" Wellington asked.

"Oh, I'm all right," Randy said. He put his hand to the bandage.

"It looks like you scratched your arms all up too." Wellington lit his pipe. "Why don't you tell me what really happened to you today?"

Randy squirmed in his seat while they sat in an uneasy silence. Here he thought he had fooled everyone. Obviously Mr. Wellington wasn't buying his story.

"Promise you won't tell anybody?" he asked.

Wellington nodded. Randy knew he could keep a secret. He was tired of lying about it anyway.

"A kid at school beat me up today." He felt ashamed for even having to admit it. But once he did, the words spewed from his mouth. "His name is Bart and he's not going to get away with it. One of these days, I'm gonna get him and get him good. He'll be real sorry..." His voice trailed off as he tried to catch his breath.

The old man sat puffing on his pipe. He was well aware that bullying was a problem in schools. It was something that had gone on even when he was young. No one had ever been able to come up with an answer to the persistent problem.

"Did you tell one of the teachers, Randy?" Wellington asked. "That would be the best thing to do."

"It was after school and I was already on my way home. He was with a few of his buddies..."

"So they ganged up on you? Sounds like a bunch of cowards for them to do something like that."

"They didn't gang up on me. It was just me and Bart. But I could hear his gang yelling and screaming. I was with Jeremy," he said with a smirk. "He just stood there and watched me get beat up."

"So you're blaming Jeremy too, are you?"

Randy shrugged his shoulders.

"Does your mom know this?" he asked.

"No. I'll take care of it myself! Promise me you won't tell anyone, Mr. Wellington. Please?"

Mr. Wellington wanted Randy to trust him. After all, he might be the only adult to whom Randy would confide.

"All right. But if this happens again, you must say something. No one should beat up on you. No matter what."

"Well, at least my dad isn't living with us anymore. He won't be beating up on me," He left my mom and said he's never coming back."

Wellington's eyebrows rose at Randy's startling confession. "Your father hit you?"

"Yeah...a lot...and like everybody else, he was always telling me what to do."

Randy's agitation oozed out of his every pore. This kid has problems, the old man was beginning to realize. They sat in silence for several minutes.

"So Randy, what are you going to do over vacation?" Wellington asked deciding it best to steer clear of what he had just heard.

Randy thought for a moment. "Oh, I don't know. Jeremy and I might do stuff. He wants to go up to Spirits Cliff and..." He stopped mid-sentence, realizing he had let one more cat out of the bag.

"I thought you kids weren't allowed up at Spirits Cliff!" Mr. Wellington's stern expression made Randy nervous.

"We're not. I'm not going. He can go up if he wants, but my mom would get mad," Randy said trying to back off.

"That's not a place for kids to go. It's very treacherous. I tried for years to get guard rails put in up there. But it never happened. There was always something more important in the city budget," Wellington said reminiscing about his mayoral days. His attention focused again on Randy. "Please don't go up there and you should tell your little friend not to go either."

"Don't worry. We're not really going to go." Randy said averting Mr. Wellington's eyes.

But Wellington knew better -- Randy was lying...again. The boys were planning a trip up the Cliff.

"I'm going to tell you something, Randy. And after you hear it, you won't even think about climbing up there." Wellington took a long draw from his pipe. Smoke funneled out of his mouth with his words. "Spirits Cliff has a curse."

### CHAPTER 5

### WELLINGTON SPINS A TALE

Randy settled back as best he could into the hard chair. He knew he was in for a real doozy of a story. Even the wooden slats against his spine weren't bothering him now. "A curse?" he asked.

"Yes, a very twisted one at that!" the old man said as ominously as he could, hoping it would scare the living daylights out of him. But like most 11-year-old boys, the thought of a curse didn't scare him, but intrigued him more. And just in time for his trip tomorrow.

"What I'm going to tell you is a true story," Wellington said.

Randy never quite knew if Wellington's musings were totally true, but he sure enjoyed hearing them. They always transported him into a place of fantasy. And under the circumstances of the day, Randy was ready to be transported.

"The Cliff has always stood so proudly over Kingsbury looking like it was challenging you to scale it," he began.

Randy knew that feeling.

"This is about two boys I knew. Chip and Stan \-- they were inseparable -- best friends. They had gone to school together since kindergarten. Both from prominent families here in town."

"It was over forty years ago when they were in their senior year in high school. They were involved in a scandal of sorts. Nobody would even remember it now, much less care about it. But it seems right before graduation, they schemed to cheat on an important test that would decide if they would graduate with honors or not."

"They found the questions of the test by ransacking through their teacher's desk drawer while he wasn't in the room. Little did they know that the principal of the school had seen them go into the classroom after-hours and had stood by the window watching their every move. Instead of confronting them, the principal decided to let them hang themselves. Sure enough on the day of the exam, they were the only two students who answered every question perfectly. Thinking they had outwitted the system, they felt confident that they would be making their families proud. Their parents after all had decided that scholastic achievement was a crucial part of their sons' existence. Probably so much so that the boys couldn't live up to the expectation and succumbed to the cheating."

"Anyway, the boys were soon called into the principal's office where the teacher and principal sat. They knew immediately that they had been caught and were forced to admit their guilt. The boys not only didn't graduate with honors, but had to attend summer school just to graduate at all. They were banned from attending the commencement ceremony with their class and the whole incident was talked about all through town. They were publicly humiliated. The scorn of their parents weighed very heavy on them and the community even ostracized them for awhile."

"Stan took it harder than Chip. Chip's father helped him get a job, while Stan's family was so mortified they just about disowned him. To make matters worse, none of their friends wanted anything to do with them, so the boys hung out together alone."

"One day they decided to just get away. Looking up at Spirits Cliff, they thought climbing the mountain would clear their heads and maybe even cleanse their souls."

"They knew the trek up the mountain would be a challenge, but were determined to succeed. It would be quite a trip. There was no gravel road up to the top like there is now. There were only a few narrow trails shrouded in brush. It took them three hours to get to the top. But once they did, they looked out over the town and immediately felt a surge of honest accomplishment \-- helping to elevate them above all the negative feelings that they had experienced."

"They stayed there a long while, silent in their own thoughts. Eventually they were drawn towards the back of the Cliff. They were mesmerized looking out at the landscape and didn't really focus on the sharp drop-off below. They also lost their sense of time. The sun would soon be setting. And as they sat on the Cliff's back edge, a weird energy set in. Any upbeat feeling the boys had experienced when they first climbed the Cliff was now rapidly disappearing."

Randy was on the edge of his uncomfortable chair listening to Wellington spin the yarn when Katy suddenly appeared in the room. As she started to putter around the food table clearing the dishes, Wellington stopped the story short.

"You can do that later, Katy," Wellington said motioning her to leave.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I interrupt something?" she asked, knowing she had.

Wellington didn't give a verbal reply, but his glare was enough to usher her out of the room. However, she couldn't resist hovering around the shuttered French doors leading into the dining room to listen to Wellington's low and mysterious voice.

"So when the two boys sat at the back edge of the Cliff, they started to rehash the whole cheating incident," Wellington resumed. "Both had become mentally damaged over the prior weeks. Yes, they had failed morally with their actions at school, but the rejection of their parents and the reaction of the whole town had done irreparable damage to them. The discussion gradually turned nasty and they started to accuse each other of who was most at fault. The weight of it all was causing their friendship to erode before their eyes. And you know what? The Cliff's sinister aura egged them on further and further. It seemed to take delight that these two boys who had been buddies all their lives were now bonded in a different way -- by this negative event."

Wellington paused trying to assess how his story might be influencing Randy. By the looks of the boy's wide-eyed expression, he feared it might be having the opposite effect of what he wanted. It was time to turn up the scare factor. "The Cliff has powers of its own you see," he continued. "It's rumored that the Cliff is a very wicked vortex."

Vortex? Randy sometimes had trouble with Wellington's rich vocabulary, but he had never heard that word before. "What's a vortex?" he asked, not wanting to miss a single nuance of the story.

"Randy, some people don't believe this, but there are certain spots on the earth where spirits come alive – places that act as an outlet for energy forces to show their power. Some vortexes are good like the ones in Arizona for instance where people go to pray or meditate. And then there are the bad ones. Have you ever heard of the Bermuda Triangle?"

Randy nodded. He remembered reading about it in a book once. It scared him.

"Do you think all those airplanes that have been lost there were just accidents?"

Randy sat motionless unable to answer.

"Well, it's the same with Spirits Cliff -- the deaths up there were all spurred on by a perverse force of nature right there... on the back side of the Cliff."

Randy quivered. Wellington looked deep into the young boy's eyes. That should surely terrify him enough into not going up on the Cliff tomorrow.

"So Chip and Stan proceeded to argue. They were now standing up, inches from each other's face shouting hateful words that they didn't really mean, engulfed in the insanity of their anger. They were spinning out of control...and the Cliff loved it."

"It wasn't long before it got physical. Stan pushed Chip hard and Chip took a nasty fall. When he got up they started the real fight—this time with their fists. Stan landed the first punch squarely on Chip's nose. Chip was so incensed that he tackled his friend and reciprocated with a blow to Stan's face. They scrambled to the ground, precariously close to the edge of the Cliff. Stan managed to break free. Neither could actually feel the sting of their bloodied faces as the fight escalated even more."

"Their aggression was stronger than either had ever experienced. Chip took one final punch at Stan. They both lost track of where they were---neither noticing nor even caring that they were inches from the steep drop-off -- until Stan tragically lost his footing."

"Time lapsed into slow-motion for Chip. He watched as Stan fell out of sight--- 50 feet, head first down the steep embankment. Chip looked down in disbelief. He stood on the Cliff for what seemed hours, but in truth probably only minutes passed."

"As he regained focus, he spotted Stan's crumpled body below. Chip undoubtedly knew that his best buddy, his cohort in cheating, a soul who he would be linked to forever, was.....dead. His head had smashed into a rock and his skull had broken open. "

Randy's audible gulp and a loud crash in the other room caused Wellington to pause once again.

"What in the world?" Wellington bellowed. "What's going on in there?"

The meek voice from the dining room could barely be heard. "Nothing, Mr. Wellington. Just a little accident."

"What happened?" Vincent said helping Katy up from the floor.

"Oh, I just bumped over some dishes," Katy said picking up the broken pieces. She threw them on the table and then grabbed the butler's lapel. "Vincent! Vincent! Mr. Wellington is telling that little boy the most horrible story. The boy is going to be scared out of his wits! I'm scared out of my wits! Why would he do such a thing?"

Vincent shook his head. "That's none of your business, Katy." He broke away from her grasp and bent down to pick up pieces of the shattered china.

"But he shouldn't be telling impressionable little boys stories like what I just heard!"

"Mr. Wellington loves to tell old tales. I learned a long time ago...just mind your own business around here. Don't get involved. And don't start listening to things that were not intended for your ears. If you do, you won't be here long."

Katy didn't like that answer. She needed this job.

"Everything is all right, sir. Not to worry," Vincent called out to his long-time employer.

Mr. Wellington hesitated. He looked back at Randy who was fidgeting in his chair waiting for more. This story was like no other that Mr. Wellington had told him before. It frightened, yet excited him. And just think he was going to go up there tomorrow! Well, maybe he wouldn't, suddenly having second thoughts. "Stan died?" Randy asked.

"Instantly." Wellington saw the flabbergasted look on the young boy's face. "I just want you to know how treacherous that place can be."

"But then what happened to his friend Chip?" Randy needed some closure. The finale of the tale was just too harsh to let it be the end.

"Well, it's a strange thing what happened. I don't know if I want to keep going now, son. The curse is just a myth anyway." Wellington figured he had done his job. The boy looked sufficiently terrified.

Oh yeah, the curse! Randy had forgotten about that. "Please go on, Mr. Wellington. What was the curse anyway?"

"Well, Chip stood on the Cliff for awhile. His mind was probably so muddled that he didn't know how to feel about what had just happened. He knew he should run down and report the accident immediately. But something was holding him back."

"Eventually, of course, he made his way down the Cliff. The surreal incident somehow didn't register by the time he got to flat land. But according to what people have said, he looked up at the Cliff whose stony face now seemed to develop a broad smirk. It cast a most unusual curse on Chip by allowing him to..."

The Dutch door into the dining room burst open banging against the wall making Randy to nearly jump out of his skin. "Come on! We're leaving!" Jan announced. "Thanks, Mr. Wellington, we had a great time!"

Randy and Mr. Wellington simultaneously looked at her in disbelief. The story had been interrupted just before the climax and both were annoyed.

"What?" Randy asked trying to get his wits about him. "You can go if you want but I'm going to stay a little while. Mr. Wellington and I were talking about stuff and..."

"Mom called and said we should come home right away," Jan said brushing off his reason. "Jeremy's mom called her all crazy and now Mom's mad at us for bringing Jeremy without telling anyone. So come on before she blows a gasket!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mr. Wellington said. "If there's any problem, have her call me." He turned back to the disappointed little boy in front of him. "You better go now, Randy."

Katy came rushing in with their coats. Diane and Ginny were close behind. Randy's pleading eyes wouldn't change Mr. Wellington's or Jan's mind. The curse! He wanted to know what the curse on Chip was. But the energy shift had taken place in the room. The rest of the story would have to be postponed or never finished.

"Has Mr. Wellington been entertaining you with his stories?" Katy asked as she helped Randy slip his jacket on.

Wellington glared at her while Randy responded to the affirmative. He was pushed to the door by both Jan and Katy, but glanced back for his eyes to meet one last time with Wellington's. The old man was confident that he had frightened the poor boy enough to at least postpone any trip up the mountain. Randy wasn't so sure.

### CHAPTER 6

### THE INCIDENT ON THE CLIFF

When Randy awoke at 8am, any misgivings about climbing to the top of the Cliff had vanished. Mr. Wellington's story had totally backfired. Randy couldn't wait to get started, now harboring a morbid curiosity of seeing the spot where Stan and Chip had fought.

He was also feeling much better. His eye had swollen up a little more after the party, but as he looked at himself in the mirror the next morning, he noticed only a slight discoloration. But he was still nursing a bruised ego. When he arrived at Wellington's house to start work, Katy met him at the door.

"We're taking Diane into town for the day," she said. "Just lock up the garage when you leave. Okay?"

He and Jeremy could now leave totally undetected. He gathered the tools from the garage and started work. As he raked, he glanced up at the dark clouds in the distance. The storm was not scheduled to move in until evening.

Meanwhile, Jeremy's mother had given him strict orders not to wander away from home while she was at work – in other words he was grounded. She was still upset about yesterday's debacle. As usual, he planned to ignore her instructions. With no one else in the house, Jeremy was on his own \-- free to get into as much mischief as he wanted.

He patiently waited for his mother to leave at 10:30 for work and then prepared his escape. He decided that the fewer people who could report his whereabouts the better. He sneaked out of his house via a side entrance and detoured through several backyards, making sure no one would spot him. Randy was just finishing up his work when Jeremy arrived at Wellington Manor. Randy closed and locked the garage as the two exchanged devilish smiles. They sprinted across the alley and Jeremy pushed back some brush revealing a narrow path. "C'mon this is the way..."

The brush had grown very thick along their trail. It was seldom used except by the native animals who considered the side of the mountain their habitat. For the next two hours, Jeremy eagerly led, pointing out every lizard, oddly formed rock, and any vegetation he suspected as poison ivy. No obstacle could discourage them. They crawled over brush, ducked under branches, and climbed around boulders. There was something to prove in this journey, though neither was exactly sure what that was. When they finally reached a clearing, they stopped for a rest.

"How much longer you think?" Randy asked as he steadied himself against a large tree.

Jeremy plopped himself down on a tree stump and wiped the sweat from his face. "I dunno. Maybe an hour or so. No more than that." He grabbed the water bottle from his backpack and took a long swig.

Randy joined his friend on the ground. "I thought you said this was a short cut."

Jeremy shrugged. He had no answer. That was fine with Randy. They were having a great time. He reached in his pocket for a Snickers Bar, unwrapped it, and split it in half to share with his friend. Randy leaned back and stretched his arms out over his head. As he lay sprawled out on the wild grass, he noticed how far the sun had already made its way through the overcast sky.

"Look, you can see the Cliff's face from here," Jeremy said.

Randy sat up and peered through the juniper bushes ahead. The rock-face had never looked so big.

Jeremy glanced down at his watch. "We'll make it up to the top by about 2:00." He rose to his feet signaling that it was time to move on.

The trail was becoming steeper. The wind was also picking up. The bushes and trees were swaying -- making the whole hill come alive, which only served to heighten their senses and invigorate their climb. That was until they encountered the most massive boulder yet to obstruct their path. They both stood for a few seconds wondering what to do next. Jeremy looked around for an alternate route.

"Maybe we can climb over it," Randy said. He anchored his foot on an indentation of the huge rock and pulled himself up. "Come on. We can do it."

Jeremy got below him and pushed him up to the top. Randy stopped for a moment to steady himself and then reached his arm down for his friend. Jeremy grabbed his hand and placed his feet up on the indentation.

"Ready?" Randy asked.

Jeremy looked at him and nodded. With a grand heave, Randy pulled him up and over. The momentum of the lift landed both of them on their behinds on the other side.

They burst out in laughter in the midst of their pain. "It's a good thing you're light," Randy said.

Jeremy smiled. It was the first time he had thought so too. They both sat for a while staring straight into the Cliff's smiling face. Its lure was now overwhelming. They resumed their pace, being pulled up the mountain like two magnets toward their pole. Every step was sure and deliberate, but light and effortless.

As Jeremy predicted, it was 2:00 when they stepped onto the peak. They let out a victorious yell. Their jubilant voices echoed off the rocks below. They had done it! They were on top of the Cliff and they felt like they were on top of the world. Jeremy crept up close to the drop-off at the Cliff's edge. He needed to show his friend that he was not afraid -- and to prove just how much of a daredevil he was. Randy followed Jeremy's fool-hardy move. They stood motionlessly staring straight down. The town of Kingsbury was sitting below them.

They spun around pointing out everything they recognized. There was the main square, their school, the football field. They could even see the Green Hollow River that separated Kingsbury from the rest of the valley. As they took it all in, they could sense the distant storm moving towards them. But they felt no fear, but instead embraced the Cliff's intoxicating energy and protection.

A coyote howl rang out in the distance. They looked at each other wide-eyed and carefully backed away from the abyss -- finally collapsing happily to the ground.

"I can't wait to tell the kids at school we made it all the way to the top!" Randy said.

"We can't tell anyone where we are," Jeremy said. "Remember, we're not supposed to be up here. We'd get in big trouble."

"Oh, yeah." Randy said. In his exhilaration he had forgotten that little detail. "Well, I don't care. There's one person I'm going to tell."

Jeremy looked at his friend. He had no idea who.

"That pinhead, Bart!"

Jeremy could not understand that in the least. "Why would you tell that guy anything?"

"Because I'm gonna dare him to come up here with me," Randy said feeling invincible. "And I bet he'd be too chicken. But you know what I'd do if he did come?"

Jeremy didn't want to know. He looked over at his friend who now had a nasty scowl on his face. Randy's outburst unsettled him for a moment. "Randy, forget about Bart. He's just a jerk...."

Randy knew Jeremy was right. The thought of Bart was a downer for both of them. Why'd he bring him up to spoil their good time?

"You know, Mr. Wellington told me a story about Spirits Cliff yesterday after you left," Randy said shifting gears. "Jeremy, do you think the Cliff is haunted?"

"Why do you say that?" Jeremy looked around as if a ghost would be popping out from behind a bush any minute.

He related to Jeremy an abbreviated version of the gruesome tale. Just as Randy had yesterday, Jeremy became engrossed in the story.

"But then Jan came in and ruined everything before Mr. Wellington could finish!" Randy said. "He said that the Cliff has a curse!"

"I wonder what it is," Jeremy said feeling a bit uneasy once again. He conjured up all sorts of spooky scenarios in his mind.

"I don't know." Randy sprang to his feet to gather a few loose rocks. "Come on, Jeremy, let's see how far we can throw these!"

They each threw a handful of stones over the edge and then circled the area searching for more.

"Hey, look," Randy said, as he bent down to pick up a small pointy stone. It was as red as his hair and seemed somehow out-of -place.

Jeremy ran over to see what he had."Wow! That's an arrowhead. I've never seen any of these up here before. They're good luck! Lemme see."

Randy handed it to him. "What's an arrowhead?" he asked.

"Indians used them like for their spears and arrows and stuff." Jeremy turned it around in his hand as he inspected it. "I bet this used to belong to one of the ancient Indians that lived here a long time ago," he theorized. He handed it back a bit jealous that he hadn't found it.

Randy looked down at the arrowhead in his hand. He put it in his pocket. A memento of the great afternoon they were having. They decided to check the ground for more arrowheads or maybe some kind of treasure, forgetting that the sun was sinking lower and lower in the sky. A sudden clap of thunder caused them both to look upward. The horizon showed the approaching storm. It looked like a monster one. But they decided to tempt fate a little bit more.

"Let's go around to the side over here," Randy said.

"You mean where Chip and Stan had their fight?" Jeremy said, remembering the story that Randy had told him.

"Yeah," Randy said with more than a little nervousness. "You want to?"

Jeremy wasn't so sure about that. He had never ventured over to the back side of the Cliff, but didn't want to be called out for being scared. "Okay, let's go."

As they tread cautiously towards the back of the Cliff, Wellington's story was in the forefront of both boys' minds. There was something appealing about scaring themselves silly. They could feel a cool breeze as they made their way through the jutting rocks that led to the backside. Tall trees had grown up to block the sun making the temperature drop a few degrees and the colors were much more vibrant and dark. The rocks and vegetation seemed more threatening as they ventured deeper and deeper into a mossy area. Shadows here took on frightening shapes at 4pm.

The boys walked closer together somehow sensing a danger that they could not quite see. Neither would admit that they wanted to turn back – so they kept going.

After several minutes, they could see where the back of the Cliff ended abruptly. That must be the place where Chip and Stan were! They spotted a clear spot right at the edge. They automatically headed towards it, daring to venture two feet from the drop-off. A strong cool wind passed over them as they peered over the edge. They decided to sit down for awhile. The ground was surprisingly warm and comfortable. They both felt uncharacteristically bold -- dangling their feet over the side, watching in silence as the sun vanished behind the tall trees. As they sat, they could feel an energy shift, but didn't exactly know what was happening. Randy started to squirm as his thoughts turned once again to the previous day's humiliation.

Jeremy looked over at his flushed face. "What's the matter?"

"You know what?" Randy blurted out. "I wish Bart was up here right now. You know what I'd do? I'd push him right off this Cliff!"

Not Bart again! "Why don't you just forget about him!"

"I can't! I can't!" Randy yelled.

Randy's crazy outbursts were a side of Randy that Jeremy had never seen before. Was his friend becoming a psycho or something?

Jeremy thought back again to Chip and Stan's story. Was the Cliff starting to work its magic, the way Mr. Wellington had said? He had a strange premonition that history might repeat itself. Another clap of thunder roared in the distance."C'mon, let's go. This is creepy over here."

"I don't want to go yet!" Randy growled.

Jeremy could see the mounting rage in his friend's face. A fearful sensation set in, paralyzing Jeremy from moving. Randy's body twitched as the obsession of the fight with Bart overtook his powerless brain. Everything associated with it made him angrier. The sting of Bart's insults and physical punches; the other boys hooting and hollering as Randy and Bart rolled on the ground throwing fists; Jeremy refusing to come to his rescue and watching him be beaten; his sister Jan's comments later about his being a weakling; his mother's babying making him feel like he couldn't take care of himself; even Mr. Wellington's intrusion in wanting to know what really happened.

"And you just stood there and watched me get beat up!" Randy bellowed reliving every moment and feeling of his disgrace. "You didn't even try!" His hate-filled voice echoed through the valley below. Jeremy shuddered as Randy's contorted face confronted him.

If this is what friendship was, he wanted no part of it. Jeremy had had enough. He had been a loner all his life and was not used to having someone cling to him and blame him -- as if Randy was his responsibility. It took all the strength he had to stand up. "Look, Randy!" he said. "You're bigger than I am. You should just take care of yourself."

Randy was incensed with that answer. Something horrible was working its way through him. The Cliff's power that Wellington had spoken of was infiltrating his fragile state-of-mind. For a brief moment, Randy fought back at what was happening. He held his head in his hands trying to work the angry thoughts that engulfed him. But the little boy was no match for the Cliff, finally losing his mind altogether. His body was no longer under his control. The new spirit that engulfed it raised Randy's hand and grabbed Jeremy by the shoulder. Jeremy tried to break free of the unnatural grasp, but instead was pushed down to the ground. It scared the living daylights out of him.

Jeremy instinctively tried to crawl away from the possessed body of his best friend. But the entity easily blocked his exit. Jeremy was scooped up and thrown to the ground with a thud. He struggled back to his feet and they stood face to face. The frenzied red eyes in Randy's head could only see Bart as he backed Jeremy up towards the edge of the Cliff. Jeremy made one last-ditch effort to dive underneath Randy's legs and flee, but to no avail. In an impulse, Randy's hands grasped Jeremy one last time.

"Randy, what are you doing? Stop!" Jeremy pleaded.

When he came to his senses, Randy was leaning over the Cliff with his arms outstretched as if he had been holding onto something. He got up, stunned.

Jeremy was gone. Randy looked over the side, not sure what he had done. He exhaled the toxic fumes of the Cliff's breath. All he could feel was a sense of déjà vu.

### CHAPTER 7

### A GROWN-UP RANDY RETURNS HOME

Randy opened the front door and stepped into the dark room. Something was weird -- he felt a presence as he fumbled for the light switch. He flicked it on and stood frozen in his tracks. They were all staring at him. About twenty people -- friends and family.

He heard Surprise! Welcome Home!!! His face flushed deep red and his palms started to sweat. He didn't like surprises and this was no exception. But he mustered a smile as they sang a chorus of For He's a Jolly Good Fellow.

Randy's eyes scanned the room patiently waiting for the song to end. His mother was in attendance of course; sister Jan with her son Trevor and second husband Joel; a few of his neighbors; and some former friends from his early days in school. There were even a few faces he didn't recognize.

"Everybody get some champagne now," Joel shouted over the crowd, clinking his glass with a cocktail fork.

"Here's to Randy, my distinguished brother-in-law, the creator of the new vaccine...what's it called again?"

"Tomasidine," Randy said quietly.

"That's it!" Joel continued. "Congratulations on your continued good fortune and welcome back."

He had been back in Kingsbury for about two months when Mrs. Belmont put together this surprise soirée for him – officially welcoming him back to his hometown. At 33 years old, he had returned as a single, good-looking doctor who also happened to be a multi-millionaire.

"My son is a genius," Mrs. Belmont beamed.

Randy blushed at his mother's obvious adoration as the party guests took their turns fawning over him.

Randy's swift and easy path to success had taken him to great heights as a physician with a thriving practice in the San Francisco area, but it was his auspicious career switch to medical research that had paid off handsomely. Quite by accident he had discovered a vaccine for a deadly strain of the flu. The vaccine was patented and had recently been approved by the FDA and was now available to doctors across the country. As an independent researcher, he was able to secure his name on the vaccine patent along with the large pharmaceutical company that actually produced it. The money had been flowing in ever since.

His uncanny success story at such an early age had been written about not only in the medical journals, but mainstream magazines. The publicity had turned him into a minor celebrity and sought-after bachelor. He had built up his physique, his red hair had calmed down into a deep auburn, and the freckles had faded. He had bought an estate in Monterey down on the West Coast. It was a beautiful 17-room beach palace once owned by movie star Joan Campbell. It was his private oasis for a man who presumably had it all. And he did – not only his estate in Monterey but three cars including two Jaguars and a Lexus, a lavish wardrobe, and a growing art collection. He also traveled the world. He had even dated a supermodel or two. From the outside looking in, it was a life that was envied. But two years after the initial publicity Randy chose to step away from the hubbub. Being in the glare of a spotlight made him uncomfortable.

"It's such an honor to live next to such a respected celebrity," his elderly new neighbor said following him around the room like a puppy. "And what a wonderful son you are to move your mother here in with you. Now if she needs any help you just call me."

"Thanks, Mrs. Bigelow." He pointed to the busy lady circling the room with a tray of hors d'oeuvres. "I hired Rosita over there to stay with us as a companion for my mom. I'll make sure she has your phone number just in case. Thank you."

He turned to his sister and brother-in-law as he tried in vain to lose Mrs. Bigelow. Tears appeared in Jan's eyes as she stared up in his face. "Mom will be much better now that you're here and so will I." The demands of taking care of their increasingly needy mother, her new marriage, her own career, and growing son were taking its toll.

Joel put his hand on Randy's shoulder and then brought him in for a hug. "Buddy! When Jan surprised me with the news that you were actually going to start up a practice right here in town, I knew it was going to finally be our chance to get to know each other better."

Randy smiled. The idea of setting up a new practice in town came to him as he looked for a renewed sense of purpose. Being close to his family was only part of the reason for his return. Something else was calling him back.

"Me too," he said. "I just hope the practice works out here."

"Everything works out for you, Randy! Luck has really smiled on you," Jan said. His sister could never give him the compliment of saying he deserved the fame and fortune. Although he himself didn't know how and why it all happened. He had never stopped to analyze his success. "And that vaccine you invented. You told me it was a fluke."

"And I understand you made a mint off that vaccine!" squealed the approaching woman with the lowest cut blouse in the room. Randy recognized the voice from the past. She planted a smooch squarely on Randy's lips pressing her body inappropriately against him.

"Ginny?"

The little girl who had unsuccessfully made it her mission to snag Randy in grammar school had grown into a 2-time divorcee with streaked blonde hair extensions and a new boob job.

Randy not so discreetly wiped his mouth. Not only was she an irritating presence from the past, but a reminder of the many females who chased him. "The media has played up the monetary part," he said.

"Oh, I saw you drive up in that Jaguar, baby!"

Randy smiled politely. It had already been a busy day at the office, and he needed desperately to sit. He meandered over to the couch followed by his sister, brother-in-law, and the ever-present Mrs. Bigelow.

"Trevor, get over here. You haven't said two words to your Uncle Randy!" Jan shouted out.

"What?" Trevor yelled back from across the room. "Oh... Hi, Uncle Randy!" The video game on Randy's 64" TV set was too mesmerizing for the 12-year old to actually tear himself away from.

Randy gave him a wave. He shrugged at Joel. "Maybe living here I'll get to know Trevor a little better too," he said.

"Good luck with that," Joel said. "I'm still trying."

Jan frowned. "You guys, give him a break. He's still adjusting." It had been a long road for both her and Trevor since her first husband had been killed in Afghanistan. "You know Randy, if it wasn't for this man right here, I'd still be a mess." She turned to her new husband and kissed him.

"And you were a mess, honey," Ginny said barging herself again into the conversation. "But you sure caught yourself a live one – a police detective."

"I like to think so." Jan smiled at her husband affectionately. Joel had not been in town very long when he met her on assignment at the senior assisted living home where she worked. They clicked immediately.

Ginny navigated herself over to Randy and nudged her way right beside him, nearly knocking Mrs. Bigelow off the couch.

"Randy, you'll have to come over to my hair salon and I'll give you the full treatment," she cooed. Randy had no intention of doing such a thing.

"It's so nice you could make it to the party, dear," Mrs. Belmont interrupted watching Ginny's maneuver. She was realizing her mistake in inviting such a trollop.

"I wouldn't dream of missing my dearest friend's homecoming! My childhood sweetheart!" she gushed.

Randy discreetly moved his body away from hers. "We were hardly sweethearts, Ginny."

"Of course we were," she retorted suddenly embarrassed in front of the others. "You remember, don't you, Jan?"

. "Well, I do remember something. . ." Jan said.

"See, your sister remembers," Ginny said as she adjusted her bra strap.

Randy's thoughts of moving off the couch were quashed as he saw that the rest of the party moving towards him. He was trapped. He must remember to tell his mother, "No more surprise parties!"

"Your mother tells me you're already swamped with new patients. It didn't take you long," Mrs. Bigelow said trying to peak over Ginny's cleavage.

Randy nodded. Setting up his private practice in Kingsbury turned out to be unbelievably easy as everything in his life had been. He had hooked up with a local medical group, found an ultra-modern office to his liking, had the office supplied without difficulty, and hired a highly recommended nurse. Once his office officially opened, new patients started to flock to him.

"He's already so busy. Me and Rosita hardly ever see him!" Mrs. Belmont blurted out displaying an overdone frown.

"Well I say we need a good new doctor in town. I'm making an appointment tomorrow," Randy's old schoolyard friend Mike Blodgett chimed in as he guzzled another glass of champagne.

Randy remembered Mike had barely given him the time of day when they were classmates. But now they were friends and Mike had become Randy's contractor -- hired to build an addition that had already begun on his new house. Randy had quickly realized that he needed a large private room for himself, with a private entrance, away from Mother.

"So have you adjusted to living here again, Randy?" asked Joel. "The town must have changed a lot in the last fifteen years."

"Well, of course. A lot different. It's really expanded. New condos, more office buildings, three new housing developments!"

"There's going to be a fourth when they level off Spirits Cliff."

Jan's casual remark caught Randy off guard. He couldn't believe his ears.

"What? They're tearing down the Cliff?"

"I wanna go up there before they tear it all down," Trevor said joining the party, having just finished his seventh game of Ninja Warrior.

Jan shot her son a disapproving glance.

"Well, there was talk that they were going to develop that area, knock down the Cliff, and build about a thousand houses up there until the real estate market collapsed. Now they decided just to develop the back side and leave the face of the Cliff as is for now," Joel added.

"They've already started to clear that area," Mike said. "I put my bid in to the developer, but haven't heard. I know the clearing is going slow because they keep running into problems."

"I'm not surprised," Mrs. Bigelow said. "I would never want to live in a housing development where that Cliff was! Too much has gone on up there. It'd be worse than living on an ancient burial ground."

Mike and a couple other guests snickered at the old woman. Old-timers in town perpetuated the myth that the Cliff had some sort of mystical power -- a power that was allegedly linked to the devil. Mrs. Bigelow was well-aware of the sneers.

"Most of you are too young to remember back in the 60s when we all woke up to that horror. You remember that, don't you Marilyn?" she asked turning to Randy's mother.

Mrs. Belmont nodded. Of the many events that had happened at the Cliff, it was the standout.

A coven of urban witches had infiltrated the town in 1972, holding several secret ceremonies at the Cliff's edge. When they were discovered, outraged citizens insisted local law enforcement find a way to drive them out of town. The police eventually succeeded in getting rid of the unwanted visitors one Saturday night, but not before a possible case of black magic.

The morning after the witches left, the town was greeted as usual by the Cliff's stone-faced expression. But this ghastly morning, there was a change. It looked as if there were two lines of drool hanging from the Cliff's chin. No one could figure out exactly what it was. Perhaps it was an optical illusion brought on by the bright early sun.

Calls to the police came in by the dozens. Eventually, two patrolmen were dispatched to make the trek up the side of the mountain. When they reached the top, they could see where a makeshift altar had been dismantled. There was debris strewn in the area. But the shocker was what they discovered as they peered down – the Cliff's "drool" was actually two men hanging by their necks with nooses made of macramé swinging in the breeze on the underside of the Cliff. They were eventually ID'ed as transients who had been unlucky enough to cross paths with the witches' coven that had now fled the scene. It was assumed that they were the victims of one of many occult ceremonies that took place on the Cliff.

The crime was never actually solved by the inept Kingsbury Police Department and was added to the growing list of puzzling events that continued to happen on Spirits Cliff. It was filed as an unsolved case known around town as the Cliff Hanger of 1972. Yes, the Cliff could bring out the town's most morbid sense of humor.

As Mrs. Bigelow related the story to the group, the younger guests sat in awe. The occult tales that supposedly had gone on up there were not usually talked about.

"Plus there was that woman that went over a few years after that," Mrs. Belmont added. "The police never even found out who she was!"

Joel shook his head. He was becoming aware of how clumsy the Kingsbury Police Department had been over the years. He hoped all of that would change with his help. Maybe they could gain some respect that was lacking up to now.

"Personally, I hope they do tear that Cliff down!" Jan said. "It gives me the creeps. Always has."

Beads of sweat gathered on Randy's forehead. "They can't tear down the Cliff! That's crazy!" Randy declared with such intensity that the room was silenced.

"It's this town's most recognizable landmark," he added quietly, trying to justify his passionate outburst. It occurred to him that the Cliff meant more to him than almost...anything.

"Oh, that horrible Cliff! I'm surprised you say that considering..." Mrs. Belmont's voice trailed off followed by an obvious lull in the room.

"Considering what?" Joel broke the silence.

Mrs. Belmont took a deep breath. "Way before you got to town when they were just kids, Randy's best friend was found dead at the bottom of that hideous Cliff."

### CHAPTER 8

### THE SUBJECT OF JEREMY

"Oh yeah, Jeremy West," Ginny remembered aloud.

Glances exchanged around the room. Some of the guests were puzzled; others were hesitant to discuss a long-buried story. Meanwhile, the guest-of-honor was turning a ghostly white.

"Well, you know Jeremy was the kind of boy who just did things without thinking of the consequences." Jan plunged into the topic, oblivious to her brother's feelings. "He evidently hiked up that mountain by himself. He got too close and fell right over the edge. I heard that you can literally go right up to the edge and look down. They really never found out exactly what happened."

"It's treacherous up there. I gotta admit I went up there a couple times when I was a kid. It's a steep drop from all sides. And. when you looked down, there were some really sharp rocks," Mike said as he snatched an egg roll off Rosita's tray and stuffed it in his mouth. "They said the kid's body was pretty smashed up."

"Poor boy. He used to come over to our house to play with Randy." Mrs. Belmont said. "And Randy, well, he barely talked for weeks after it happened. It was a tragedy."

Randy sat motionless on the couch absorbing the conversation. He had never felt claustrophobia until now.

"Jeremy always disobeyed his mother. In fact he sometimes deliberately did things to spite her," added Jan looking again at Trevor who was now hanging on every word of the story.

"The kid went up there by himself?" Joel glanced around the room in disbelief.

"Jeremy was the type of boy who just did things by himself. Stupid things. He was known for that," Jan said.

"The kid was a little nutso, I think," Ginny chimed in.

"I felt so sorry for his mother. They didn't find his body for three days." Mrs. Belmont shuddered as she spoke.

Mike continued the story. "The searches for him kept getting delayed because of bad weather. They did an autopsy on him and there were no signs of foul play or any indication that an animal had attacked him either. I forget what the official cause of death was."

"Blunt trauma to the head," said Trevor looking down at his iPhone. "The story's on deathcliff.com."

Jan rolled her eyes. "That's more frightening than the story!"

"Bad things happen on that Cliff that the police dismiss as accidents. But mark my words, they haven't been accidents!" Mrs. Bigelow said. She walked over to Trevor and looked down at his phone. "If you dig deeper, Trevor, you'll find other strange goings-on that happened up there."

"Mrs. Bigelow, don't encourage him." Jan turned to Trevor. "You are not allowed up there! So don't get any ideas!" Trevor hated how his mother could read his mind.

"Hey, buddy, if you're into stuff like this, maybe you can help me out on some of my cases..." Joel said. He was trying all opportunities to build a relationship with his new stepson.

Trevor nodded without looking up. He was now madly googling the Cliff.

"Anyway, they did determine that nobody was up there with him," Mike continued. "But you know, they had no way to really track what happened because the storm had washed away any footprints anywhere or tire tracks on the gravel road."

No one had noticed that Randy sat slouched on the couch with his face down. The shock and remembrance was too much. His eyes were starting to roll up in his head and his breathing was becoming non-existent as his soul astral-projected out of his body. He was now circling the room flying further and further up. Randy looked down at the tops of everyone's heads including his own.

"Jeremy even tried to talk Randy into going up with him. Thank God he had to work over at Mr. Wellington's that day," said Mrs. Belmont with a sigh of relief.

Randy continued to propel upward. Joel was the first to realize that something was wrong. "Are you alright, buddy?"

"Randy? Randy?" Jan shook his leg.

He plunged back into his body with a jerk.

"Remember, Randy...the police came over and asked you about it," Mrs. Belmont continued.

Randy's distress had become obvious. An awkward silence descended upon the room. He could only utter one word. "Jeremy..."

"Listen, let's just be thankful nothing has happened up there in a long time. I am right about that, aren't I?" Joel asked finally putting an end to the unfortunate discussion.

"Thank the Lord, yes," Mrs. Bigelow confirmed.

Individual conversations started up while Randy sat dumb-founded on the couch. He took several deep breaths and rubbed his forehead. Jan and Joel kept their eyes warily on him.

"I hear you all are already adding on a new room in the house," Joel asked hoping the change of subject would help snap him back.

"Yep. Randy contracted me for the job. It's coming along real well. Randy told me what he wanted and I designed it," Mike said.

"I've been so busy down at work. I haven't had a chance to get over here in a long time," Joel continued.

"Well, the noise is unreal. I can't wait until it's done. Both of us will be relieved when it's finished, won't we dear?" Mrs. Belmont nudged her son who was oblivious to the new conversation.

Randy jumped at her touch. "What was that?"

"Your new den, dear," his mother said. "The workmen have been here every day for weeks now."

"What is it about half done?" Jan asked.

Randy shook his head to the affirmative. "Uh huh," he mumbled. It was hard for him to form any words.

Mike was eager to display his work. "How about it Randy? Shall we show the progress?"

Randy needed desperately to get out of the room. "Yes, of course." Summoning all the energy he had, he sprang to his feet and pointed towards the hallway.

Mike led the procession into the newly constructed room. "Five hundred square feet," he proudly announced as he opened the door. "All wood beam ceiling. Bathroom off to the side."

The guests stepped through the workmen's clutter on the floor. "Careful now!" Mike shouted out over the oohs and ahs of the party guests. "There's going to be built-in bookcases, and an entertainment center here. Hardwood floor goes in tomorrow. Most of it should be all done in about three weeks I think."

The eyes of the crowd told it all. Mike's face lit up at the favorable reaction.

"You'll have a private entry over there, huh?" Joel said noticing an outside door. "Good idea."

"I had to live with my mother-in-law for two years. I wish I'd had the money back then to build a place like this to go to. She drove me crazy," Mike said.

Randy listened to Mike's commentary. Indeed, he was looking forward to having his own environment locked away from any intrusions from Mother.

"This is huge, man. Get a load of this hot tub area, Jan!" Joel was impressed.

Randy stepped back away from the crowd as they investigated every nook and cranny.

"Sis," he said grabbing Jan's arm, "I'm going to go upstairs and get out of my work clothes. I'll be back down in a little bit."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just carry on without me for a few minutes."

Randy made a fast exit while Mike continued the tour. He headed up the stairs into his bedroom and immediately took three Excedrins. The experience he had in the living room had now sparked a massive headache blurring his vision. Maybe some fresh air would help. He changed his clothes, crept downstairs undetected, and slipped out the sliding glass door to the back patio. He gently closed it behind him. Settling into a lounge chair, he leaned his head back and stared at the feature that sold him on this particular house. An unobstructive view of Spirits Cliff.

The Cliff's face was illuminated by the full moon. Randy exchanged smiles with it. In the past seventeen years, every trip back to Kingsbury included some communication with the majestic face. Every time he would arrive at the city limits, he would look up at Spirits Cliff as it welcomed him back. Many times he had parked on Gateway Avenue just gazing at it. He had told everyone that the reason for his return was to help care for his mother and help his old community as a doctor, but he knew the underlying draw was to be close to the Cliff. He didn't understand it, but knew it was true. Now it was in back of his very own backyard. He wondered if that was where he was headed during his odd out-of-body experience.

A hand on his shoulder interrupted his daydreaming. "Hi, Uncle Randy."

"Trevor!" The young boy's presence startled him. "What...what are you doing out here?"

"I was just reading something on the internet," Trevor said looking down at his phone. "And I just wanted to say I'm sorry about....Jeremy."

Randy closed his eyes and the image of Jeremy filled his mind. "Thank you," whispered Randy barely able to get out the words.

Until tonight, Randy had put Jeremy's death completely out of his mind. At age 11, he had not been able to comprehend death – especially of someone that close. So he had blocked it -- even erasing large chunks of time they had shared. But he would have nightmares for months waking up violently, sometimes screaming at the top of his lungs.

Randy turned his back towards his nephew and then looked back up at the Cliff. He was trying to come to grips with what he was trying to remember.

The sound of Trevor's phone interrupted his thoughts.

"Mom's texting asking me where I am." He put the phone back in his pocket. ."If it's okay, I'll tell Mom where you are? She's looking for you too."

Randy nodded still staring at the Cliff's face.

Trevor walked to the sliding glass door and then stopped and glanced at the Cliff himself. "Its face looks a little different tonight," he said.

Randy was surprised by his nephew's astute comment. "Could be the full moon," Randy mumbled. He watched as Trevor pulled the sliding door open and vanished.

A sob erupted in Randy's lungs and he started to cry -- something he had not been able to do ever before. He hadn't been there with Jeremy when he fell. Had he? He recalled that he had worked at Mr. Wellington's that day. Even Mr. Wellington had said that Randy had been there in his yard all day. Why would Mr. Wellington have said that if it weren't true? His mind hurt as he racked his brain for the answers that were not ready to come. The thought of Jeremy was crushing him.

His mind hurt as he racked his brain for the answers that were not ready to come. Suddenly the noise of the party intruded in his thoughts. He knew he had to get back in whether he wanted to or not. He took one more glance at the Cliff. He didn't know why, but if that Cliff is leveled like Joel said, a part of him would be lost forever.

### CHAPTER 9

### BAD TIMES APPROACHING?

The unpleasant reminders Randy had experienced at his welcoming party were only the beginning of his unexpected rocky road to come. Yes, he enjoyed being back in private practice, but the workload at his office was overwhelming. Within eight weeks of Randy's grand arrival into town, his practice had grown so much that he was already considering not taking on any more new patients.

On the downside, massive headaches were a common occurrence -- something he had never experienced before. He was now routinely popping Excedrins several times every day and was thinking about graduating to something stronger. Even his sleep pattern was interrupted with wakeups during the night. He sometimes found his hands shaking a bit, a terrible affliction for a doctor to have. He wasn't used to this. Everything in his life had always gone so well.

The den in the meantime had hit a couple snags too. This upset him because he yearned for the day when he could go into his new space undisturbed. He loved that he could help out with his mother, but she would routinely interrupt him, mainly out of boredom, while he tried to work at home. To make matters worse, Rosita had informed him that she needed to temporarily return to Guatemala soon to take care of some family matters. She had become an important buffer to his mother that Randy depended upon.

"Jan wants us to come over for dinner tonight, dear," Mrs. Belmont said as Randy sat silently at the breakfast table, going over in his mind what he needed to do for the day.

"Why don't you just go without me, Mom? Rosita can take you. I know I'll just want to get home and relax tonight." It would be nice to come home to an empty house.

"Randy, you need to get out," Mrs. Belmont said as she reached over and patted his hand. "You're working and worrying yourself into an early grave!"

Randy was in no mood for this. He had been on his own for years and was not used to any interference, well-intentioned or not. He was growing to resent how his mother was needling him over an increasing number of issues.

"Mom, I'm out all day. I see people all day. I don't need to get out more. Get off my back about it, please!"

"You work all day. It's not the same. This is family!" Mrs. Belmont was relentless.

Randy swigged back the last of his coffee and got up in a rush. "No! I've got too much to do. Tell Jan I can't come. You go, have a good time." He didn't want to argue. He had a full day ahead. "Good-bye, Mom." He kissed her on the forehead.

She called after him, "I'll have her set a place at the table just in case you change your mind!"

She just doesn't give up, he thought.

Lately, people had been remarking that he seemed edgy. He knew that he was becoming agitated quickly, getting annoyed with his mother, his sister, and his nurse. He also had a major argument with Mike Blodgett when the construction had been delayed. Irritability had been very uncommon for him in the past. Prior to moving back to town, his mental state had always been relatively calm. Logic said that the cause of the problem was stress-related, but in the back of his mind he felt there might be something more to it.

His only solace was in the evening after dinner. He would adjourn to the back patio and just sit and try to relax while his mother would settle in to her ritual of watching Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune. As he sat peacefully, there it was – very prominent in view, the glorious Spirits Cliff.

It had an allure that he couldn't describe. Plus the Cliff somehow made his mental state tolerable, his headaches would even subside. He even started to sit out on the back patio in the morning and have his breakfast. Rosita would bring him his grapefruit, oatmeal, and coffee.

His fascination with the Cliff began to consume him. It was his love. It almost felt like the Cliff was alive. The urge to go to the top of the mountain was tempting him, but he didn't dare take the challenge. At least not yet. It might revive something in his mind that he didn't want to remember.

But the pains in his head were becoming sharper. Even his eyesight could be affected. He knew he had to do something about it. He went to an associate, Dr. Clemens, to be checked out.

After a thorough physical and a series of tests, everything came back negative, though understandably his blood pressure ran a bit high. Dr. Clemons chalked his headaches up to fatigue and stress – the same diagnosis that Randy had originally given himself.

"Just prescribe me something stronger than Excedrin, John." The serendipity that had always been present in his life was beginning to fade away.

### CHAPTER 10

### RANDY & WELLINGTON RE-UNITE

It was 3:30 on Friday. Randy had already seen 22 patients, most of them new. He was anticipating the weekend when he could leisurely go over their charts and medical history -- and rest, if his mother would leave him alone.

His nurse, June, had already entered the file on the computer for Patient #23. Randy would brief himself with the initial information before he went into the room. He had remembered several of his patients today from his childhood and had enjoyed reminiscing with them. But Patient #23 was special. Anticipation had been mounting all day long. He peeked into the examining room door where an old man was sitting on the examining table. Randy broke into a huge smile.

"Hello, Mr. Wellington."

Life surged into the old man as if he had been plugged into a socket. "Randy, my boy!"

Any doctor-patient decorum immediately went out the window. Randy hugged the old man and tears came to his eyes. "It's wonderful to see you again, sir."

"It's about time you came back to the town that brought you up!" Wellington gushed.

Wellington had changed quite a bit in the twenty years since Randy had last seen him. He was now hunched over, his hair was very thin, and his body appeared rather frail. But the life that came into his face showed that the spunky 83-year-old was still with it.

"I owe this town a lot. I'm glad to be back. How have you been?"

"I've been fine and don't let anyone tell you any different!"

But Randy had been told different. Wellington was now a bit of a recluse. Rumors were rampant around town that the old man might even be losing his mind. When he would venture out in public, he was viewed as an eccentric and disgruntled relic from the past. He lived in the same big mansion which was now long in disrepair. It had become an aberration on a street where many of the houses had been remodeled.

All but ignored up to this time was the young woman sitting in the chair next to the examining table. She had been patiently watching the two men reconnect. Randy turned to acknowledge her.

"Hello, Dr. Belmont," she said.

She seemed vaguely familiar.

"You remember my niece, Diane?" Wellington asked.

"Yes, of course I do," Randy said as it all came together. "You've changed quite a bit since I last saw you." At 5'6", Diane had turned into a comely beauty. She still had the golden brown hair, but now it was cut to her shoulders and framed her round face. She wore a perfectly tailored tan dress with a strand of green stones around her neck. This was turning into a double treat for him.

"You've changed too," she said. "I see you recovered from that black eye."

"You remember that, huh? Yes, I recovered." Randy laughed. "Wow, what a memory." He paused to take a good look at her face. He could see glimpses of the little girl he had met so many Christmases ago.

Her green eyes twinkled as their eyes met. He noticed immediately that she looked different from the women who resided in Kingsbury. She had a worldly quality which enhanced her subtle elegance. "Are you living in town here, Diane?"

She wasn't. She was living on a ranch in Palm Springs. Her high-flying parents had left it for her in their will when they had died in a plane crash five years earlier. She had invested most her inheritance money in an art gallery, which she was struggling to make work. But art was her passion and she needed to follow her bliss. She had only come here temporarily to take care of her Uncle Julius. But she was quickly realizing that he needed more help than she had originally suspected.

"Diane is helping me out," Wellington said admiring his niece.

"Well then, you're a lucky man to have Diane here with you for awhile, Mr. Wellington," Randy said.

"Yes, I'm trying to convince her to stay with me permanently."

She rolled her eyes. "And I'm trying to convince him to come live with me down in the desert. The climate might do wonders for his health."

"And how is your health, Mr. Wellington?" asked Randy returning to the reason for his office visit.

"I'm old. What can I tell you!" Wellington cracked.

In the waiting room, he and Diane had filled out his health questionnaire. They had tried to list all his medications and past medical history – and there was quite a bit of both. Wellington had had a minor stroke but had recovered from it for the most part. He also had been diagnosed with gout, rheumatoid arthritis, and an irregular heartbeat. He had had two eye surgeries and a gall bladder operation. All of this in the last seven years. And six months prior he had been told that he had a severe kidney ailment which was now affecting his liver.

"It looks like you have a couple things going on here," Randy said, inspecting his chart. "Do you have any specific pains you want to tell me about?" Randy asked.

"I hurt all over!" he snarled.

Randy smiled. "I do remember that sense of humor." There was something about the eccentric old man even in his bitterness that he loved.

Wellington was enjoying being the center of attention once again. As much as Randy tried to get him focused on talking about his recent health, Wellington insisted upon straying. He was not ready to settle down and give Randy the pertinent information. He wanted to socialize.

Finally, Diane felt she needed to step in. "We came here for a second opinion, actually," Diane said. "Uncle Julius' doctor has diagnosed him with some kidney problems and we thought you could look him over. Also, right now he's having problems in the bathroom. I'm no doctor, but it sounds like he could have a urinary infection or something worse. He refuses to go back to see Dr. Franklin."

"I'm through with Franklin!" Mr. Wellington sputtered. He hadn't seen his doctor in over a month.

"If something is wrong, Mr. Wellington, it's not wise to refuse to see your doctor," Randy scolded.

"That's why I'm here, Randy. I want you as my doctor. I can trust you. Franklin's a quack," Wellington raged. He had not mellowed with age. Diane and Randy exchanged amused glances.

"Let me do this, Mr. Wellington. I'll give you a routine exam right now. And if you're serious about changing doctors, I'll send for a copy of your complete chart. But first..." Randy handed him a specimen cup. "Give me a little urine. The bathroom's down the hall." It was a ploy to talk to Diane alone about her cantankerous uncle. He opened the door and called for Nurse June to show him the way.

"All right. All right," the old man grumbled, cup in hand.

Once he was out of the room, Randy turned his attention to Diane. A relieved smile came to her face. "Thank you," she said. "He trusts you Randy. He was so looking forward to seeing you. I can't even tell you."

"When I saw his name on the schedule today I felt the same way," Randy said. He was honored that Wellington had so much faith in him, but could already feel that the old man's stubbornness would be an issue in any treatment.

"I just don't know about him," she said shaking her head.

"I'll look him over today, Diane. But first I just wanted to get any insight into his health from you. Your uncle isn't the type to give straight answers."

"He's definitely got some health issues that have to be watched. I wrote down all I knew on the form. I've only been in town a short while."

She had not seen her uncle since her parents had died, though they had kept in touch through phone calls. She suspected that there might be trouble, but was shocked when she arrived two weeks ago and saw that his health had greatly deteriorated. He could no longer climb the stairs and was living exclusively on the first floor.

"Katy has been doing what she can for him. But she's not a nurse," she said.

"Katy still works for him? After all these years?" He couldn't help but flash back to his boyhood days.

"Yes, Katy is priceless. She's the one who called me and told me to come up here. She's been so loyal to him. But she can't handle it anymore. Aunt Lenore and Uncle Julius didn't have any kids. I'm his only family. He needs some help and won't admit it. I'm worried about him. I think he needs a different level of care now."

Randy was starting to get the picture. He could tell how much Diane loved her uncle and was impressed with her concern for him.

"You know, one of the reasons I came back to Kingsbury was to help out with my mother," Randy said. "It's a dilemma -- trying to help aging relatives when they get to the point of not knowing what's best for them."

Diane nodded. That was her plight and she knew it.

"Of course, I'll take over your uncle's case if he really wants me to." Randy would need to call Dr. Franklin – a call he would make gingerly. Randy had already taken away four patients from him in the past month. "As soon as I get your uncle's records, I'll go over them and schedule any other tests he might need to have and we'll go from there. Is Dr. Franklin the only doctor he's been seeing? Any specialists?"

"I'm not sure. I'll have to ask Katy about what other doctors he's seen," she continued. "She did tell me something a little frightening. When she comes over in the morning, she fixes his breakfast and puts his pills in front of him. She says he never wants to take them and suspects that he even throws them away. She never actually sees him swallow them. He always says he'll take them later."

"It's good that you came when you did," Randy said.

"Maybe he's depressed or lonely. He just doesn't take care of himself and sometimes I think he doesn't want to."

"Your uncle might benefit with a live-in nurse or at least a health professional who can check on him from time to time in his own house," Randy said.

"That house, that house!" Tears came to her eyes. "Yes, he wants to stay in that house. I can't even begin to tell you about that house!"

When she arrived in town, she was not only shocked at her uncle's condition, but had also found the house in complete shambles. But Wellington didn't want to move from his rickety old mansion. However, the work it needed would cost more than he could now afford. Along with everything else, he had fallen on hard times financially, but refused to accept how bad it really was. He had been losing money on his investments over the past five years.

His one remaining asset was the property that he refused to give up. Diane had been advised to try to get him to sell. If he did, the house would surely be torn down. The area had recently been re-zoned, so condos would most likely be erected in its place. She knew that would break his heart, but realized that it might be the only answer. But Wellington had become even more ornery over the years and didn't like being told what to do. Diane had to deal very carefully with him.

"I'd like to take him back with me to Palm Springs to live. But just mentioning that he goes ballistic. He won't ever leave Kingsbury and I understand that." She let out a big sigh.

"How long are you going to be staying with him?" Randy asked.

"I was only going to be here a week or so, but now I don't know what to do. I can't stay forever. I have to go back to work. But I want to find out what's the matter with him. And....I want to try to convince him to sell the house. He just can't handle living there anymore, even if he thinks he can."

"My sister works for Kings Acres here in town which specializes in elder care. I'm sure she'd be glad to talk to you about the options there –if it comes to that."

Randy noticed Diane's worried expression. "This has got to be hard on you. I'll help as much as I can. Mr. Wellington is someone special to me." Randy said.

At last it looked like the help Diane needed had arrived. "Thank you, Randy. She paused and red rushed to her face. "I'm sorry I mean Dr. Belmont...."

"You can call me Randy," he said uncharacteristically liking the informality. "We're old friends in a way. It's a treat for me to run into you again. I wish it could have been under better circumstances."

Diane grinned. "I feel like I know you. I know it's been a long time. Uncle Julius has always thought so highly of you. And to tell you the truth, he wasn't the only person who was looking forward to seeing you today. I knew you could help us."

She extended her hand in appreciation. Randy was impressed by her gracious manner. He smiled at her as they touched, instantly noticing how smooth her skin felt.

"Listen, how about you and I going out to lunch or dinner or something later in the week. You could probably use a break. I could use one myself. We can discuss your uncle and catch up on each other too." Randy was surprised at his impulsiveness, especially in the office. He had always kept a professional distance when he was working.

"That would be lovely. I've been so busy trying to straighten out Uncle Julius' business affairs that it would be nice to get out. There's been something every day." As she spoke her cell phone rang. She looked down at the number on the phone. "It's the bank. We have an appointment after we leave here. I better take this."

Randy's eyes followed her as she left the room. It was only seconds when Mr. Wellington sauntered back in.

Randy started the exam. Mr. Wellington felt at ease with his long-lost friend -- the little boy who had worked for him, the little boy he had told stories to. Randy poked and prodded. The exam revealed that Wellington had some soreness around his stomach and groin area.

"You know Mr. Wellington. Let's set up an appointment for you middle of next week. Have Diane check with Nurse June for something after Wednesday. By then I'll have been able to read your past history. But I think I want to prescribe some antibiotics for you today."

Randy opened the door and called for his nurse. June appeared at once.

"June, would you please get Mr. Wellington's niece..."

Randy jotted some information down on Wellington's chart while they waited for her.

"How is he?" Diane poked her head into the room.

Randy opened the door wide and ushered her in. "It looks as if your diagnosis is correct, Doc. He appears to have a urinary infection. I'll be writing out a prescription for some antibiotics. They shouldn't interfere with the medicines he is currently taking. And then make an appointment for the latter part of next week and by then I'll be up-to-speed on my new patient."

"I need a top-notch doctor like you. I'll do whatever you say I should do," Wellington said. Diane smiled at her uncle's seeming compliance.

"Thank you, Randy. We'll go to the pharmacy on our way to the bank, Uncle Julius," Diane said.

"I'm not going to the bank. I'm tired."

"Uncle Julius, we need to talk to Mr. Hodges about your funds. Please! Our appointment is in half an hour."

"I can't Diane. This has been enough for me. You go and let me know the details."

Diane frowned. It was hard to get things rolling. Wellington was always dragging his feet. She wondered if he was doing it deliberately or if he really wasn't up to it.

"All right. I'll take you home first and then go over to the bank." She knew by now not to argue when he dug in his heels.

Randy stepped between them. "Listen, Mr. Wellington is my last patient. If you want to wait in the reception room for about fifteen minutes, I can drive you home," he said to his old friend. "Then Diane can go to her appointment and pick up your medicine at the pharmacy. That would give us a little longer to chat about things other than your health, Mr. Wellington."

Wellington's smile said it all as he climbed off the examining table. "Yes, don't worry about me, Diane. Randy and I can find our way back home," he said.

"Are you sure, Randy?" Diane asked, quite touched that he would go out of his way like this.

Randy sincerely wanted to lend a hand. Catching up with his old friend and helping out his new interest Diane would be grand. "Of course. Just give me a few minutes, Mr. Wellington. I need to wrap a couple things up."

"Then it's all settled. Help me out to the waiting room, dear," the old man said to Diane. "And be on your way." Mr. Wellington was pleased. The day was turning out just as he wanted.

### CHAPTER 11

### THE NEAR-ACCIDENT

Mr. Wellington looked around as he relaxed in the waiting room. He was impressed. The boy had done quite nicely. High end furniture, beautiful décor, state of the art equipment, and a very professional staff. The brand new office building must command the highest rent in town.

"Are you ready to head out, Mr. Wellington?" Randy asked as he rounded the reception counter.

"Ready when you are, son," Wellington said feeling like a proud father.

Randy helped Wellington to a standing position as the old man did his best to show that he could make it on his own. "I'm okay. I'm okay," he insisted leaning heavily on his cane. As a matter of fact, he hadn't felt this good in months. Randy held the front door open as Wellington strutted through.

"You're lookin' good, sir!"

"You better believe it, boy." Wellington suddenly had a spring in his step. Even though it had been years since the two men had spoken, the old friendship was sparking. They boarded the waiting elevator and rode down to the underground employee parking lot.

"You know Randy. I'm so pleased with your success. The local papers have written quite a bit about you. I follow all of our most famous citizens. And your rise to the top is quite remarkable," Wellington said. The fact that he was about to board Randy's top-of-the-line Lexus did not go unnoticed.

Randy remembered how Wellington had been the town historian, chronicling the lives of many of its residents. So he wasn't surprised that the old man had kept up with his career.

"I've been blessed." Randy weirdly flinched as he said the word. "I feel like I'm really back home now that I've seen you Mr. Wellington. You're a big part of this town to me." Randy put the keys into the ignition and they emerged from the underground lot.

"And what brought you back after all these years?" Wellington asked the question that Randy had persistently been asked since he arrived.

But this time Randy had a different response. "Something was calling me back here, Mr. Wellington."

"Well, whatever the reason, the citizens of this town are damn lucky to have you back." Wellington's voice soared as he heaped on the praise. "But I got to tell you, Kingsbury has changed for the worse." He pointed out the window. Look at these repulsive mini-malls sprouting up all over the place! They trash up the town. If I were still mayor, you can bet a lot of this rubbish wouldn't have been built in this city."

Randy smiled. "I bet you'd see to that."

"You're damn right." Finally Wellington had someone to talk to.

As they drove, the old man brought Randy up-to-date on all the town's developments. Most of them did not meet Wellington's approval. But he had no influence now on anything in the town. He talked about the new housing tracts that were obliterating the olive groves that once populated the outskirts of town and the three shopping malls which had decimated the business of the once popular downtown.

Randy could tell Wellington longed for company and conversation -- though his speech was now belabored and slow. Not the flowing pace that he remembered. But it was comforting to hear the sound of his voice, triggering memories of sitting and listening to him as a child.

"Nope, the town's not what it used to be." Wellington said concluding his tirade.

"Nothing is....." Randy said as they turned the corner onto Gateway Avenue. "....except that."

The one constant in town came into view. They both stared straight ahead and took in its majesty at the same time. Spirits Cliff! There was a brief silence as they gave homage to the landmark in their own private ways.

"The Cliff remains, for better or worse," Wellington said.

Wellington's comment caught Randy off-guard. "What? For worse? It's magnificent. It's one of the few places in town that hasn't changed, at least not yet..."

Wellington said nothing as he glanced back up at the Cliff's face.

Randy suddenly felt he needed to defend it. "My backyard faces the Cliff. I look up at it every morning and every evening. I love the Cliff."

"I've seen it from my back porch for over 80 years. Yes, I can't imagine waking up and not knowing its presence," Wellington said as they waited at one of the exceedingly long red lights. "You remember, you could see it from my back yard."

"Of course," Randy said flashing back. "I remember lots of Saturdays over at your house. You'd always give me a Coke and then we'd talk after I finished my work. I remember you used to know everything about everyone."

"I still know everything about everyone. I have all the time in the world to find out!" Wellington grumbled. "I've called the city offices a dozen times and told them to time these lights down Gateway, but they don't listen to me. A bunch of imbeciles!" Wellington shifted uneasily in his seat. "This seat is getting hot!"

"Oh I'm sorry, Mr. Wellington. I turned the seat warmer on. I figured you'd like that!" he said as he reached for the button to turn it down.

"Seat warmer?" Wellington asked, not familiar with the concept. "Your car is equipped with just about everything! I guess you can have whatever it is you want."

Randy thought. Yes, he guessed he could.

"Anyway, my boy, I remember telling you the stories of this great town," Wellington continued, "Its history, stories about the Cliff, and people who were around long before you were born. I love to tell stories about Kingsbury."

"And you told me some great stories too. Some real fantastic ones," Randy said. Randy pushed on the brakes to stop for yet another red light.

"I know I gave you a few scares with a couple of them." The old man laughed at the thought.

One particular tale specifically. "You know, Mr. Wellington, there was a story you told me about the Cliff that gave me nightmares for weeks. It was about those two school boys who cheated on the test." In fact, the thought of it was giving him an uneasy feeling right now. He wondered why he had mentioned it at all.

"Oh well, sure. I told you about Chip and Stan. That's an old one. Probably happened about 60 years ago now. Yes, the two of them went up to the Cliff. And only one came back."

"Yes, that's the one," Randy said. Please don't tell it again, he thought.

But never to miss a cue to tell a story, Wellington seized the opportunity to relate the gruesome account of two best friends on Spirits Cliff. Randy tried to interrupt, but it was useless to try to stop the old man once he got started.

Wellington's knack for colorful storytelling had Randy squirming in his seat. His stare fixated on the Cliff as it grew larger and larger in the windshield. Even though he had no idea what Chip and Stan looked like, Randy was starting to picture their faces. And the faces looked familiar. The tale was triggering something horrifying in his memory. The same light-headed sensation returned that Randy had experienced a couple of weeks ago at his welcome home party. He started to tremble as he fought back an overwhelming urge to jump out of his body to escape.

"And Chip took one last swing and Stan lost his footing and fell to his death," Wellington continued.

Randy was visualizing the scene clearly, but it wasn't Chip and Stan on the Cliff. The lump in his throat was so large he felt he could no longer swallow. After all these years, he remembered. He closed his eyes for a second. The image of Jeremy's face as he fell backwards over the edge flashed in front of him larger than life, blocking out everything else-- including the red light up ahead. He plowed his car into the intersection oblivious of the mini-van filled with teenagers barreling up on the opposing street.

"Randy! Randy!" Wellington yelled. "Watch out!"

It was only another second when the mini-van was in front of them and Randy swerved. There was a long screeching of brakes as both cars careened trying to dodge each other. Exhaust and dust filled the air as everyone within 500 feet waited for the impending collision. But the mini-van had sped up barely avoiding Randy's path. They had missed a crash by inches. Randy pulled to the side of the road in a panic.

"Oh my God! What happened?" Randy said.

Wellington gasped to catch his breath. Randy looked back to the intersection in his rear view mirror. It appeared that everything was okay. A calamity had been averted. The mini-van did not stop, but no doubt the occupants were as flustered as the two men who now sat by the side of the road.

"That was close, son."

"I didn't see the light." Randy's heart was racing. "I'm sorry, are you all right?"

"Yes. I'm fine. If you can't kill me in an auto accident, I guess scaring me to death could do it!"

Randy shook his head in disbelief. Traffic was now moving through the intersection again. But as the cars passed, drivers and their passengers gawked at Randy's car, wondering what kind of irresponsible driver was behind the wheel.

"I'm just glad everyone's okay," Randy said. "That was too close."

"Remind me never to tell you another one of my stories while you're driving," Wellington said.

"I'm really sorry, Mr. Wellington. My mind got lost there for a minute." The near-accident had distracted Randy from his images of Jeremy. But as he looked up, the Cliff was there to remind him. He pulled the car back onto Gateway.

"I tell you, that Cliff has power over people. Looks like it affected you back there," Wellington said.

Randy laughed nervously, suppressing any further thoughts of the Cliff or Jeremy as he concentrated on the road. They continued down Gateway in silence, finally turning left onto Wellington's street.

It had been a long time since Randy had been in his old neighborhood. He noticed that there were now two or three condo units on the street. They passed Randy's old house which had been remodeled as had all of the remaining houses. Except one.

"The old homestead is right up here, remember?" Wellington asked.

Randy nodded. Of course he did. Coming into view was a house that brought back so many memories. He pulled his car onto a cracked and crumbling driveway and stared up in disbelief at the old mansion. He now fully understood Diane's reaction when she mentioned her uncle's house earlier in the office. The sight of it took his breath away.

"I'll get the door for you," he said to his companion was now struggling with his seat belt.

Randy jumped out and walked around to the passenger door in the shadow of the dilapidated atrocity of Wellington Manor. He opened the door and unfastened the old man's seat belt.

"These damn things!" Wellington snarled, finally relieved from the entanglement.

"Let me help you to the door, Mr. Wellington."

As the old man struggled out of the car, Randy gazed up at the old home. Paint had peeled off much of the wood, exposing it to the harsh elements. He could see broken windows on the second floor with shutters hanging precariously from hinges that were long decayed. Shingles were barely hanging on to a roof that appeared to have buckled. The chimney had been damaged with loose bricks poised to fall down any minute on an unlucky person's head. A fence that had divided the property from the neighbors was tilted at a near 45 degree angle. How could he live here like this?

They slowly made their way up the cracked cement walkway. The yard that Randy had worked in was now overgrown into a massive mess of shrubs begging to be trimmed and weeds which had taken over any inch that they could push into. What was left of any grass rose nearly two feet in dire need of being cut.

They reached the familiar old front door which appeared to be holding up better than anything else, including Mr. Wellington. As the old man searched his pockets for his key, Randy took another quick gander around. Was it an optical illusion or was the house really leaning to the left? Randy couldn't decide, but no doubt about it –the place had evolved into an even worse monstrosity than it had been when he had visited it as a little boy. He remembered how Jeremy had said it looked like The Addams Family house.

Wellington pulled his key from his pocket. "Come on in for awhile, would you?" He pushed his key into the lock. The door opened and a whiff of musty air hit Randy in the face. A melancholic curiosity of what the inside might look like enveloped him. And he figured the distraction might help. What he had just imagined, or worse yet remembered, about he and Jeremy was looming like a hundred pound weight in the back of his mind.

"I'll just help you in, but I really can't stay too long," he said.

"Now where is the light?" Wellington said once they had gotten inside. His hand searched the wall for the switch. Randy held his breath afraid of what he might see when the light came on. It was the same foyer as he had seen over 20 years ago. It hadn't changed too much – except it looked grayer if that were possible.

They walked slowly through the living room. Even the knick knacks were in the same place Randy thought. There's that weird little organ grinder and his monkey! It still had that same freakish grin. The portraits on the walls looked unhappier, the draperies were so dirty it was hard to remember what color they used to be, the carpet was nearly worn down to the padding. The whole place had the odor of mildew. Wellington made no excuses for his house. Randy wondered if he could be so oblivious to how it looked or smelled.

"Sit down just for awhile and keep me company for a minute," Wellington insisted. "Maybe you need to hear the rest of that story."

### CHAPTER 12

### RANDY'S REVELATION

"Now where did I put my reading glasses?" Mr. Wellington asked as he turned on the light by his old chair. "Do you see them anywhere, Randy? I want to show you something."

Randy looked around Wellington's den, where he had spent so many hours as a boy. It was just as he remembered it, only worse.

"Where did you last have your glasses, Mr. Wellington?" Randy asked mindlessly. He was distracted by what he was seeing -- appalled at how the rooms had also decayed. He wondered if it was a hazard to just be inside. Why hadn't the place been condemned?

"Oh, I think I left them in the kitchen. I was trying to read that damn little print on one of those cans." Wellington had already settled into his chair. "Would you mind looking in the kitchen, Randy? They're probably right on the counter. And while you're in there, get yourself a Coke."

"Sure, Mr. Wellington." Just like old times, Randy thought. He was going to be staying awhile.

He knew his way to the kitchen. It was through the doorway where the French doors once hung. There were holes in the wall where the doors had evidently been torn out or fallen off. As his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he noticed cracks in the walls and ceiling -- and brown spots from water damage.

He passed by the familiar antique dining room table, which was standing sadly in the center of the room over the faded carpet. The ornate chandelier which once hung so proudly over the table now dangled precariously by exposed wires that had extricated themselves out of the ceiling. As he continued to the kitchen, the warped floorboards creaked under his feet.

Mr. Wellington's glasses were indeed sitting on the counter right by the sink. Water was dribbling steadily out of the rusty faucet. He turned the handles to see if he could shut it off. It was no use. No doubt the plumbing was in as bad a shape as the house itself. Leaky plumbing was most likely just the tip of the iceberg. He picked up the glasses, grabbed a Coke out of the humming refrigerator, and stumbled on the torn linoleum as he ventured back out of the room.

"Here they are. I found them," Randy said holding the glasses up in the air as he re-entered the den. He handed them over and sat down in the same hard wood-slatted chair of his youth.

"Listen, Mr. Wellington, are you okay in this house?" From what Randy could sense it was probably unsafe for the old man to live alone, much less in a place that was falling apart around him.

Wellington took a handkerchief out of his pocket and rubbed the smudges off his glasses. "Of course. I've lived here all my life," he insisted, brushing off Randy's impending interference.

He knew not to overstep his bounds, but Randy felt he had to continue. "Mr. Wellington, I think that you need some help here with this place."

"Now, Randy. Don't worry about me. Diane does enough of that. In fact, she's arranged to have a few things fixed in here if that's what you're thinking. But I don't want to talk about that now." Wellington was still calling the shots in his own home. "What I want to talk about is you," he said clearly changing the subject for good.

Randy decided to hold his tongue. He would discuss the house with Diane later.

"I've got something here..." Wellington reached into the drawer of his end table to reveal a large folder filled with newspaper and magazine clippings. "I've been following your story ever since you left town. You're quite a celebrity in these parts."

Wellington handed him a newspaper from seven years ago. The headline read "Local Boy Responsible For Medical Breakthrough." Randy vaguely remembered it. His mother had sent it to him. He smiled thinking back at the excitement that had resulted from his vaccine discovery.

"The Kingsbury Courier-Journal loves to write about you," Wellington said as he handed Randy clipping after clipping chronicling Randy's phenomenal rise to the top -- Former Kingsbury Resident Makes Splash in Medical World, Promising Flu Vaccine from Kingsbury High Graduate, Randy Belmont is Local Hero. Randy had seen some of the articles before, but was surprised at the extent to which he had been written about in Kingsbury.

"You're famous here, Randy," Wellington handed him an issue of Time and People from several years ago. "And you're known at the national level too, my boy."

Randy remembered the national magazine articles. The whole publicity thing had turned his life around. He had been only 26 when his discovery went public. He had always shied away from articles on himself. Even when he had done a search of his name on the internet, the massive Google results were enough to overwhelm him. He saw that he even had a Wikipedia page.

"Imagine at your age having accomplished all this," Wellington continued. "It's extraordinary. You must have worked very hard to achieve this success."

His admiration was touching, but Randy brushed off the praise. "Let me admit something to you, Mr. Wellington. I don't know if I've said this to anybody."

Wellington was all ears.

Randy stared down at one of the clippings. "I really haven't worked that hard." He looked back up expecting some sort of reaction. But there was none. Wellington gave no clue as to what he was thinking.

"I was only in research for about a year when it all happened," Randy continued. "I inadvertently combined several elements while I was doing something totally unrelated to a vaccine. There were some really unexpected results and the chemical scientists on staff got interested in it. To make a long story short, they analyzed it and put it in some case studies. The results were positive and looked promising for a cure of the flu strain they were working on. But the whole thing started out as an accident."

"Many of the world's most important discoveries were accidents," Wellington said.

As Randy browsed through the clippings, it became obvious to him why his practice in town had taken off so quickly. He hadn't really thought about it before. Everybody wanted a celebrity doctor as their own personal physician.

"The people here love you. You are a hero whether you like it or not. Your publicity is good for the town," Wellington said. "And you're admired because we all know you didn't have to come back and start a practice here. Everyone knows you don't need the money. You should be proud of yourself."

Hearing this from someone who Randy respected meant a lot to him. Randy had always felt like the dumb schmuck who had stumbled onto something he didn't even understand himself, always avoiding interviews because he thought he would look or sound stupid. He had downplayed the fame and fortune because in the back of his mind he felt he really didn't deserve it.

"Thank you, Mr. Wellington. I appreciate that." Randy said as he handed back the clippings.

"Kingsbury was primarily known for Spirits Cliff, but now your name is brought up when the town is mentioned. You and the Cliff are the two most famous things our city has going."

"Me and the Cliff," Randy muttered. He settled back onto the hard chair. No longer was the Cliff good company to be in.

"Oh yes, that reminds me. Now that you're not driving..." Wellington said with a half-smile. "I must finish that story I was telling. I just hate to leave a story without a proper ending."

"That's all right, Mr. Wellington," Randy said trying to avoid any reference to it. "You finished."

"No, I hadn't gotten to the end. The most important part."

The old man's insistence on reviving the nightmare was now becoming annoying. He couldn't bear to hear any more that might trigger the memory of his own role in the Cliff's lurid history. Randy tried to block envisioning any images. But it was to no avail. In fact, it was even clearer now. Jeremy's terror-stricken face again catapulted into his mind as a pair of hands pushed him off the edge of the Cliff. Randy could now visualize whose hands those were. He had pushed Jeremy off the Cliff. The realization was devastating.

"Randy, I never told you the end. Remember, I told you there was a curse. But I don't think I ever told you what it was," Wellington continued. "That Cliff is evil, Randy. Its beauty masks how evil it really is. It has power over people. Makes them do unspeakable acts."

Randy gave Wellington a blank stare. He was trying desperately to keep his composure.

"It works off peoples' negative feelings. Exploits them. I learned this from my grandfather. He told me that the Indians believed this. And their folklore was based in truth. They thought the Cliff was the Devil. And when the Devil has entrenched itself in the earth, it can be very powerful."

"So you think the Cliff itself is responsible for the deaths up there?" Randy asked hoping for an answer of yes.

"All I can say is a person's physical surroundings affect them more than they realize. It's an important aspect of life to be aware of. Haven't you ever felt kinship with a place?" Wellington looked around the room. "That's one of the reasons I can't leave this house. The Indians would say that it has bonded with my soul."

Looking around at the horrific state of the house, Randy questioned what Wellington's soul could possibly be like. As he sat in silence, his thoughts gradually turned to his own soul. What had happened to his soul? Over the years, he had tried to get in touch with it. But he never could. Maybe the Cliff had stolen it from him all those years ago. It was possible he thought....he couldn't deny his obsessive attraction to the Cliff.

"Just look at your desire to come back to Kingsbury. The town and you have a connection," Wellington insisted.

Randy wasn't so sure about the town of Kingsbury but he certainly sensed his own evolving partnership with the Cliff.

Wellington watched the perplexed look on Randy's face. "I'm sorry, this is too much. As I told you before, most people don't believe in this sort of thing. And as far as the Cliff goes, the whole concept of its power, evil or otherwise, is dismissed as a myth." Wellington said. "I'll stop here."

It was too late. The floodgates had been opened.

"Mr. Wellington, do you really believe this? Could Spirits Cliff have that much influence on someone that it could make them kill somebody?" Randy pleaded for an answer. "Is that what the curse is?"

Wellington shifted in his chair. "That's merely the beginning," he said. "The Cliff is always hungry for the sacrifice of human life. But the real puzzlement is that it rewards those who initiate the sacrifice." The old man waited for a response, but shock had immobilized Randy's mouth.

"Do you want to know the rest of the story of what happened to Chip?" he asked, unable to interpret Randy's blank expression.

He nodded to the affirmative. Randy now needed to understand.

"When Chip came down from the Cliff, he confessed it to his father, who became so panicked by the situation that he refused to believe that his son was at fault. By the time they got to the police station, the story had developed into one of self-defense where Chip had been attacked by the other boy, which was not exactly untrue."

"The body was recovered the next morning and it was determined that Stan had been killed upon impact. Here were these two boys who the town had basically scorned, and now one of them was dead perhaps by the hands of the other one."

"Miraculously when public opinion started to form, the town embraced Chip. It was determined that he was lucky to be alive after being attacked by this ruthless thug, Stan. It was even assumed that he had been dragged into the original cheating scandal by his now-dead friend. Chip emerged from the whole ordeal unscathed. There was no trial...nothing. His life and his luck turned around in a phenomenally short period of time."

"Why had his luck turned around he wondered? He got his answer shortly thereafter when he looked up at the Cliff's face one night. The Cliff was smiling at him. It was a knowing smile that Chip had never witnessed in the hundreds of times he had gazed up at it. It was a smile just for him -- a thanks for the sacrifice that Chip had unwittingly performed ...with the Cliff's help of course."

Randy was not sure how much more he could take.

"Not only had Chip come out of the ordeal smelling like a rose, but, then he went on to great heights. It was no coincidence."

Randy sat there for awhile. It took about thirty seconds for that one to sink in. The comparisons to his own life were hard to ignore. It was all starting to come together for him in a most horrifying way.

"His good luck and fortune were astounding...for awhile. But then the tide turned drastically for him. The good luck changed to bad luck. And from what I understand, it was bad... excruciatingly bad – mentally and physically..."

Randy sat still in disbelief. This has got to be a very bad joke.

"And that is the curse of the Cliff..." Wellington concluded. His story had finally ended.

Randy tried his best not to pass out. After several tries, he rose to his feet and looked straight at Mr. Wellington. "I have to go."

Wellington was taken aback by his sudden reaction. "Randy! Can't you stay a little longer? Don't want to wait for Diane?"

"Tell her I'll be in touch. I'll be in touch with both of you. Don't get up. I know my way out. I'll see you soon, Mr. Wellington." Randy staggered to the door, and then turned back around to face his old friend. "Thank you," he said softly.

He made a beeline to the front door -- eventually finding himself outside. He could barely stumble. Halfway down the walk to the driveway, he drifted to the bushes and vomited. Convulsing uncontrollably, he had never felt so hopeless.

### CHAPTER 13

### RANDY'S TOUGH NIGHT

Randy opened his eyes. He wondered how long he had been sitting in the car. The uncommonly bright moon was facing him as it hovered over the front of his house. He didn't remember driving home -- his mind had shifted into auto-pilot. The afternoon's rollercoaster ride at Wellington's had sent him into a mental state like he had never experienced before.

He looked in the mirror. Seeing his own image brought him back to a warped reality. The face looked familiar. But he no longer knew who the person was inside. It was a scary thought.

His gaze shifted to the front door of his house, knowing he would have to go through it. If only his new den with the private entrance was finished, he could slip in perhaps unnoticed. His mother and Rosita were inside waiting for him. He did not want to face them. He didn't want to face anyone.

He thought of taking off and driving out of town somewhere, anywhere. Away from this town, the Cliff, and anyone who knew him. But he couldn't. There was no energy left. Not even enough to kill himself.

He needed to compose himself before going inside. That would be next to impossible. As he struggled up to the front door, he straightened his clothes, wiped his face, and ran his hands through his hair trying to look somehow presentable. He fumbled with his key in the lock, finally opening the door exposing the bright entry room.

"Randy is that you, dear?" Mrs. Belmont called from the living room after his first step in.

He appeared in front of her. "I'm very sick, Mother. I don't know if it's food poisoning or what, but I'm going right to bed." He surprised himself with his impromptu alibi and ability to get it all out without either vomiting or falling.

Mrs. Belmont was shocked by his appearance. His normal ruddy complexion was heightened by his bloodshot eyes, raw cheeks, and red nose.

"Food poisoning? Sit down here, dear." She jumped up and tried to direct him into one of the oversized chairs.

"No, I'm going to bed!" Randy couldn't look his mother in the eye. "Can you get me some ginger ale, Rosita, and just set it outside my door?" he said as he stumbled up the stairs.

"Yes, Dr. Randy. You need to lie down." Rosita rushed to the kitchen.

"What can I do, dear? Can I help you up the stairs?" Mrs. Belmont had never seen her son in such a condition.

He turned to her at the top of the stairs. "No, I'll be fine. It came on kind of sudden. Just let me rest."

He had to be alone....and think about what he had just learned, what he had just remembered, what he had just discovered about his own life. It was a lot to digest if indeed it were all true.

He staggered to his room, closed the bedroom door behind him, and collapsed on the bed. After several minutes, he took off his clothes and got under the covers, instinctively curling up in the fetal position. But he couldn't stay in that position long. Every cell in his body ached. As he lay there, now tossing and turning, his head throbbed and his stomach cramped. He was still too sick to think.

He grabbed for some pain pills. Maybe three would help this time. He wanted his mind to be a blur. He knew that he couldn't think logically right now anyway. He figured his life was ruined as he drugged himself to sleep.

But there would be no peaceful sleep. A nasty dream awoke him. His heart was pounding as he sprung up in bed. The sheets were wet with perspiration. He was thankful that he couldn't remember his dream, but knew it had been a terrible nightmare. As he sat in the darkness, his new reality sank in -- he was waking up into an even more horrid situation than whatever the nightmare was.

His head was still pulsating, far worse than any of his recent headaches. He looked at the clock. It was 11:11. Randy strained his eyes to see if it said AM or PM. PM he read. He remembered it was the weekend. Thank God for that! He was in no shape to deal with anyone, especially at his office.

He weaved to the door and looked out. There was the glass of ginger ale Rosita had put there for him. He picked it up as he looked around. Mother must be asleep – the TV was off. He grabbed another capsule of his pain medicine. In the back of his mind he knew not to take any more pills. He didn't want to OD, or did he? Why not? He had not only committed a murder, but his life was a lie, and now he was going to be experiencing some sort of divine retribution -- according to Mr. Wellington anyway.

He careened over to the bedroom window. The moon lit up just a slight silhouette of the Cliff. Otherwise, it was shrouded in darkness. Randy knew it was out there just hiding from him. As he shuffled back to his bed, he could feel its presence. "I hate you with all my heart," he murmured not knowing if he meant the Cliff or himself.

Randy had done a good job of suppressing the memory of Jeremy's death for all these years. But now as the night went on, isolated bits of the tragedy were coming back to haunt him. But it was still unclear. What had made him push Jeremy over the Cliff? Had he been so mad that he couldn't control himself? Or had the Cliff guided him in his actions? Mr. Wellington seemed convinced that the Cliff had the capacity to make things happen. But despite Randy's repeated attempts to blame the Cliff, the guilt made any kind of comfort elusive. He drifted in and out of fitful sleep until morning.

It was 9am when he noticed light in the room from the sun peeking through the window shades. He was feeling only slightly better after another fitful 45-minute interval of sleep. The sick feeling was evolving into a sense of numbness.

He had to get up. As he sat, he could feel dizziness encompassing him. But he wanted to stand. His eyes drifted towards the closed window. He couldn't resist. Maybe the Cliff had vanished. He walked over and flung open the shades. Randy saw it was still there, though uncharacteristically aloof. It was not even looking at him this morning.

Randy stood motionless staring out the window. He had obsessed about Jeremy's death most of the night, but now Mr. Wellington's explanation of the Cliff's curse was sinking in. He tried to dismiss it as improbable – impossible in fact. Wellington has got to be wrong. It was all a coincidence. How could the Cliff actually be responsible for the good or bad things in a person's life? Crazy folklore –it's got to be!

But the more he thought about it, the more it rang true, making the pieces of his own life fall into place. He had always been at the right place at the right time. And now he knew why.

He reflected upon his charmed life. Over the years he had marveled at his good fortune, but it had always felt a bit unnatural. Lurking in the back of his mind was the worry that he would lose it – that the good luck streak would go away.

The fear of losing his good luck had made him very superstitious. He would never walk under a ladder; he didn't like black cats; and had several good-luck pieces that he would wear or carry in his pocket.

But Randy sensed that good-luck pieces could not help him now. The curse was in control and had been for years. He had unwittingly sacrificed his best friend and the Cliff was the cause of his good fortune. What he thought all along was true. He did not deserve his success -- he was a fraud. And according to the curse, it was all going to catch up with him. In fact, Randy could already feel it. He could predict that this was only the beginning of the torture he would encounter. Thoughts of suicide raced through his mind once again.

A knock at the door saved him from it.

"Randy!" He could hear his mother's voice. "Randy!"

"Yeah. Mom. Just a minute." He cracked open the door.

She was relieved to see him out of bed. "How are you this morning?"

There were no words to describe it.

"We were worried about you last night," she continued.

"I'm sorry I worried you, Mom. I'll be down later and get something to eat, okay?"

She slipped her hand through the crack of the door and put it on his head. "You've got a fever."

"Can you tell Rosita to bring up some more ginger ale and a few crackers for me? She can put it out here and I'll get it. I want to go back to sleep right now." He closed the door. He could not bear to see anyone yet.

He lay back down and closed his eyes. He felt a strange peace descend over his body. It was now time to remember the entire incident that had been buried in the crevices of his mind. He was ready. His body started to twitch as the images came rushing back.

He lay there re-living the sequence of events of that day over and over -- always ending in how he had been filled with rage at Jeremy's non-involvement over a stupid fight with a schoolyard bully. But his thoughts always stopped at the same point – Jeremy's frightened face as Randy pushed him. The story went no further. Maybe his mind was not ready for the ultimate climax.

However, the rest of that afternoon was crystal clear, as if it had happened yesterday. How he and Jeremy had made a secret pact to climb to the top; how they had met at the back of Wellington's property; how they had had so much fun on their journey up the mountain; how they looked out over the valley seeing the entire town; how he had found what Jeremy said was an arrowhead...

Randy sprang out of his bed. He almost fell down as he raced to his bureau. He opened the top drawer and picked up his favorite good luck charm. He glared at the pendant with new hatred. It had been made long ago from a stone he had found. He kept it around his neck for years. He had become used to its presence dangling on his chest as he walked. But for some reason, he had not worn it since he had arrived back in town.

It felt ice cold in the palm of his hand. He had always wondered where this piece of rock had come from. But as he looked down at the gold chain attached to the buffed bright red arrowhead stone, he remembered. Jeremy's words rang through his head. I've never seen any of these up here before. They're good luck.

In a sudden impulse, Randy threw it across the room as hard as he could. He could hear the sound of it hitting the wall, then ricocheting off the closet door and smashing into his mirror. The mirror cracked. The pendant dropped to the floor.

Randy looked down at it with disgust. He'd been wearing a piece of the Cliff around his neck for twenty years. He gazed back up at himself through the cracked mirror. Seven years bad luck for breaking a mirror he thought. A mild sentence compared to what he might be in store for - ill fortune the rest of his life, probably extending into eternity.

He started to hyper-ventilate as all the factors of his situation spun through his head. There must be some way out of this. He didn't ask for any luck – good or otherwise. The whole thing had been an accident. He hadn't wanted Jeremy to die.

He ran to the chair where his pants were thrown the night before. He searched the pockets for his cell phone. He had programmed Wellington's number into his phone thinking he would leisurely call today to ask Diane out. Little did he know he would be using it for a much different reason -- to make a call for his life. He needed to talk to Wellington now.

Randy paced the floor trying to calm his nerves as he waited for someone to answer.

"Hello." It was Diane.

"Oh," Randy cleared his throat. His voice cracked as he spoke. "Hi Diane, it's Randy."

"Hi Randy. I didn't recognize your voice. I guess a doctor is entitled to sleep late on the weekend," she said trying to make a joke. She was glad to hear from him.

Randy laughed the best he could. "I'm just wondering if I could talk to your uncle for a minute. I forgot to ask him something yesterday."

"Why of course. I'll get him. I want to thank you again for everything. Uncle Julius told me that the two of you had a chance to visit yesterday," she said. "And I enjoyed seeing you again too."

The sound of Diane's voice was soothing to his ears. It was the first sign of any comfort since his disturbing revelation. "Me too," Randy said.

She lingered on the phone for a couple seconds. He knew she was waiting to see if he would continue.

"Right now I'm sort of under the weather, Diane. Let's you and I get together later next week," Randy said. He had no idea why he was pretending that life would go on as usual.

"That would be lovely," she said. "Here's Uncle Julius."

"Yes, hello." The sound of Wellington's voice was now slightly irritating to Randy's ear.

"Hi Mr. Wellington, how are you?"

"I'm fine, Randy. How are you? You left in such a hurry yesterday..."

"So sorry I had to do that. I think I had a touch of food poisoning. It came on real suddenly. I just wanted to let you know I'm all right."

"Well, I was wondering. I'm glad you called."

There was a silence while Randy tried to figure out how to broach the subject he wanted to discuss.

"Sir...I just want to ask you a question. I'm curious about something you told me yesterday. It got me wondering, you know..."

"What was that?"

"I just had a silly question about that story you told me. You know the Cliff..." Randy tried to downplay its importance, but his mental condition was marring his acting skills.

"Just a second..." Wellington said. "Diane, dear, would you go see what's taking Katy so long in there with our lunch?"

He waited for Diane to leave the room. "Yes, Randy...what did you want to know?"

"Well, I was just wondering... I mean that story yesterday..."

"Yes, yes..." Wellington was trying to hurry him along.

"Well, you know the boy who pushed his friend off the Cliff. What was his name, Chip?"

"Yes, his name was Chip."

"Was he ever able to recover from the hard times? I just don't think you actually told me that and I started thinking for some reason..."

"He did recover to an extent," Wellington said.

"Oh that's good to know." Randy knew an ambiguous answer when he heard one.

There was silence on the other end. Normally, Wellington would be volunteering the continuance of the story. But he was noticeably quiet in this case.

"Well, I mean how did he do that?" Randy had to know.

"I think I told you. The Cliff wants more..." he said stopping his sentence short.

"More what?" Randy asked.

"More attention, more allegiance. Another sacrifice, perhaps," Wellington said.

Randy nearly dropped the phone. Was he serious? Was that the reason he felt that he needed to return to his own hometown?

"I must go, Randy. We're about to eat."

There were no good-byes as the two men disconnected. Randy stood motionless in the middle of the room. This was too outrageous to even contemplate. The whole thing must be a hoax, a farce! Any rational person wouldn't consider this garbage, Randy thought, wishing he were rational.

He clutched his head as if it might explode. Wellington's words reverberated in his head –Another sacrifice, perhaps. Maybe the rumors around town were true -- Wellington had lost his marbles. At this point, Randy could only hope so.

### CHAPTER 14

### RANDY HOLDS IT TOGETHER

Randy felt better as he emerged from his bedroom on Monday morning. He had made the decision, as he regained his senses over the weekend to put the whole matter out of his mind. Denial would be the best approach. He would go to work as if nothing were wrong.

Arriving at the breakfast table, Randy plastered on a smile. Mrs. Belmont was there ready to see what might happen. Rosita had cereal and grapefruit waiting --- with eggs, bacon, and toast in the wings. And two place settings -- one outside on the back patio and the other at the dining room table with Mother. Their scrutiny was so obvious that Randy wondered if they had taken bets on where he would have breakfast.

"I'll eat in here today, Rosita," he said pulling his chair out from the table.

He noticed the side glances the two women gave each other. Mrs. Belmont smiled. She must have won the bet, Randy thought.

"I'm glad you're going to eat with me and not out on the patio next to the .....the..." Mrs. Belmont could not even say the word.

"The Cleeef," Rosita said as she placed an orange juice in front of him.

Randy thought he had been more discreet about his obsession. "No, I feel like eating in here today."

"How are you feeling?" Mrs. Belmont asked.

"Much better," Randy said, trying to convince himself as much as his mother.

"I'll call you today to see how you're doing, dear," Mrs. Belmont said.

"Mom, I'll call you. I'll let you know how I'm doing," Randy said. Her phone calls always seemed to disrupt the office.

"No you won't. I know you won't call. You never do."

She was right.

"Well, then don't call me at the office number, call me on my cell."

"You never return my calls on that cell phone. I like that 2300 number of your office. That lovely Alexis who answers, knows exactly who I am."

Randy wondered if his growl was audible. He knew not to argue with his mother over this. Today he needed to stay especially focused. His first venture out in the world from the weekend's self-imposed sequester would be a challenge.

"Good grief, Rosita! There's enough food here to feed a pack of wolves," Randy said noticing all the filled plates and bowls on the table.

"I didn't know what you wanted. So I made eveytheeeng!" She figured that she and Mrs. Belmont could eat whatever was left.

"I can't eat too much. I don't want to push it. I've hardly had anything all weekend," Randy said.

Mrs. Belmont gave Randy a disapproving look. "I don't even think you should be going to work."

"Mother, let's not go over this again. I have patients. I feel better. Leave me alone."

"All right, dear. But between you being sicker than I've ever seen you and Rosita on the verge of leaving us, I'm beside myself."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Belmont. I be back," Rosita said as she traipsed back into the kitchen to retrieve them more coffee.

"I know it's selfish," Mrs. Belmont said, "but I worry that she won't be coming back at all." So did Randy. Rosita deflection all of his mother's attention was certainly needed.

Randy could hear his mother babble on, but paid little attention. As she changed from one subject to the other, he struggled down a piece of toast and gulped three cups of coffee. He was straining just trying to keep it together.

"Your den's going to be finished soon," she said. "I hope you don't disappear in there once it's done."

"No, I'm going to have my meals here at the table with you from now on, Mom," Randy said. "Rosita, no need for you to set a place on the patio anymore," he said as she brought in another serving plate of food from the kitchen. "Oh, I can't eat another bite." In fact the sight of all the food was not helping the queasy feeling that was still lingering.

"But you ate almost nothing, Dr. Randy." Rosita seemed disappointed that her cooking frenzy was not fully appreciated.

"Everything I ate was great! Thank you. But I've got to be going. See you two ladies this evening."

As he got up, his stomach growled. Maybe all that coffee was not the best thing to drink as a chaser to the pain pills he had already taken earlier.

Mrs. Belmont and Rosita watched him go out the door. Five seconds later he was back inside. "I forgot something," he mumbled as he ran up the stairs to retrieve his laptop.

Mrs. Belmont took a sip of her coffee. "I hope he makes it through the whole day."

Rosita sat down. "Me too, he don't look so good," she said as she started to fill her plate with eggs and bacon.

Randy figured that going back to work would be the best medicine – if he could get through it. June and Alexis were already in the office when he arrived – as were his first couple of patients. He jumped right in.

After a few minutes, Randy knew he was right to go into the office. Concentrating on everyone else's ailments took his mind off his own. In fact, today he was even more tuned in to his patients' problems than ever before. He willed his mind to concentrate on what they were saying. However, a brusque manner in him surfaced as the day went on.

"June, give Mrs. Hardwick her shot," he said as he finished with his final patient of the morning. June had noticed the subtle change in her boss. He was more precise, more focused...more distant. There was no more of the levity that existed between Randy and his staff. In fact, he had barely cracked a smile all morning.

By lunchtime, he realized he was actually feeling a bit hungry, but wanted to keep it light. He decided to eat alone in his office. "I have a lot of cases to catch up on. Order me a soup from The Hut, Alexis," he said. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a five dollar bill.

Alexis rolled her eyes. They all knew The Hut didn't deliver. She had one hour for lunch and she didn't want to waste it, standing in line for Randy's soup. "Oh I was going to McDonald's. Do you want anything from there?" she asked.

"No, McDonald's doesn't have soup!" Randy gave her an annoyed I'm your boss, I pay you look, but she wouldn't submit to the intimidation. She wondered why he was being so aggressive today.

June knew something was up. "I'll get you the soup," she said. It would be a good idea to keep him happy.

Randy returned to his private office and put his head down on his desk. He had made it through half the day. He convinced himself that everything was okay. It had to be. If he could ride this out he'd be fine. It was all manageable...just as long as nothing really bad happened. He decided to tempt fate by vowing that if he received some sort of sign, then he would know. But until then, Wellington's story was hogwash; feeling sick was just a weird coincidence; and Jeremy's death --- well, he'd rather not think about that at all.

But as the week passed, Randy only felt worse – more agitated and less comfortable in his own skin. He deliberately avoided looking at the Cliff and attempted to sweep any thought of it out of his mind. The nightmares, however, couldn't be avoided. He knew deep down something was wrong, but hoped beyond hope it was just the stress that he couldn't seem to shake.

He was thankful when Friday rolled around, but there was one big appointment that he dreaded – Julius Wellington. There had been something troubling him about Wellington's case after reviewing his tests and charts from his previous doctor. He decided more tests were necessary. But besides that, Randy hesitated to see his old friend, in fear that hearing his voice would spark the worries that he was trying his best to ignore. He knew that he needed to keep this appointment strictly business.

\--------------------------------------------

Mr. Wellington and Diane sat in the examining room as Randy went over his prognosis. "Mr. Wellington, I'm going to schedule you for an ultrasound of your abdominal area."

Wellington scoffed at the idea.

"You are not the doctor, I am." He was more direct than he had ever been with Wellington. He was not going to cajole the old man today.

Wellington relented with a shrug. Randy could tell he had won Diane's approval. She was well aware that the best way to get through to her uncle was to be direct and firm.

"I'm going to put in for the authorization. But for now, you know the way to the lab, Mr. Wellington. We need more blood," Randy continued.

"I just had blood drawn last week! I feel like a human pin cushion. I don't want to be poked today," Wellington ranted.

Both Diane and Randy glared at him. He knew from their expressions that he was outnumbered. "I'm going," he said, none too happy. Randy handed him a paper outlining the tests to give the lab. Diane lingered in the examining room.

"Thank you, Randy. This makes me feel a lot better that you're being so thorough," she said. "By the way, I'll be going away for a couple weeks. I have to take care of some business at home."

Randy frowned. He didn't like hearing that news. "It might not be a good idea to leave your uncle alone."

"Katy will be there. As much as she hates staying in that house, she's agreed to it, but it might be her last hurrah. She told me she can't stand it anymore. She and Uncle Julius are on each other's last nerve. They had it out the other day. They're like an old married couple. It's the end of an era for them...and I know it's time for her to go."

"Wow, they've been together for almost 25 years," Randy said.

"Yes, most marriages don't last that long," Diane laughed although they both knew that it could be the end of the line for Mr. Wellington in his old house as well. "She's already looking for another job."

"You don't suppose she would come over and work for my mother and me temporarily while Rosita is out of town?" Randy asked in a burst of inspiration.

"I'll ask her. That would be wonderful if you need her."

"Rosita doesn't leave for another three weeks. But I'd love to get this set up. I'm pretty sure Mom knows Katy," he said. He touched her softly on the shoulder. "By the way, Diane, I don't have your cell number. Just in case I need to talk to you while you're away.... about your uncle?"

She slid her card into his hand. Randy gazed down at Diane's card and found himself smiling. His first smile all week.

He decided to call her in Palm Springs on Sunday night. Their conversation started with the subject of Uncle Julius and the fact Katy had agreed to work for him. But the conversation continued and by the end of a full hour, they realized that they had an obvious connection.

Randy began to call her nightly. As the days at the office became more grueling, the nights on the phone eased the persistent anxiety that plagued him. Maybe Diane could keep him sane. Even though they didn't hit upon anything too personal, he could feel a lightness when they talked. Diane was replacing the Cliff in Randy's thoughts. And that's what he wanted. He didn't want to succumb to taking his meals out on the patio ever again. He even kept his bedroom shades drawn so he couldn't see outside. But the Cliff didn't like the inattention. It was growing impatient.

### CHAPTER 15

### THE DEN

Mrs. Belmont sat in the living room as she listened to her grandson explain how his new iPad worked. She had no idea what he was talking about, but enjoyed being with him.

Jan looked up from the magazine she was reading. "Trevor, leave your grandmother alone, would you?"

"Mom! Grandma needs to know about this. Uncle Randy might buy her one too."

"That would be a waste of money, dear. If I ever need to use one of these things, I'll call you." Mrs. Belmont laughed.

Mrs. Belmont was delighted her family all lived close to her now. She and Jan were getting along much better ever since Randy had moved back to town. Jan no longer felt pressured to visit every single day. Her mother could be a handful.

Rosita filled up Mrs. Belmont's coffee cup once again. "I hate that you have to leave us, Rosita." They had forged a close relationship over the past few weeks.

"I will miss you, Mrs. Belmont. But I be back. You and your son have been very generous to me. But my father needs my help now," she replied.

"Of course," Jan said, munching on the snacks Rosita had prepared. "But you've certainly become part of our family too."

Rosita had kept things under control at the Belmont home and both Jan and Randy knew it. It was now a bit dangerous for Mrs. Belmont to be home alone. They had considered moving their aging mother into King's Acres, where Jan worked. But Mrs. Belmont wanted no part of that.

"Randy told me that Katy is going to come over and work for you," Jan said.

Mrs. Belmont wrinkled up her nose. "I'm not so sure I want Katy. She talks too much," she said remembering the few times over the years when she had been around Mr. Wellington's housekeeper.

"Give her a chance, Mother. You need someone here with you during the day."

"I don't really like Katy."

"Mother, you haven't liked anyone the agency has sent over for an interview," Jan countered. Randy had tried earlier to set up Rosita's temporary replacement, but Mrs. Belmont always found something wrong with everyone. "At least we know Katy. She's been doing this kind of work all her life. And she's been taking care of Mr. Wellington for years."

"That old coot," Mrs. Belmont said rolling her eyes.

"Let's give her a try, Mom," Jan said.

"I guess I don't have a choice!" Mrs. Belmont said in her most pathetic voice. Jan decided to ignore her mother's attempted guilt trip.

"Where did Trevor go?" Jan realized her son had disappeared. She had inherited her mother's worry-wart tendencies. She felt she needed to keep her son on a short leash. But at age 12, Trevor was already very independent, much to his mother's annoyance.

"Oh, he's probably in the back, dear," Mrs. Belmont said. "The workmen aren't here today so he won't be in their way. He's just playing somewhere."

Jan's phone rang. She looked at the number on her display and smiled. It was Joel. "Hi, honey. We're over here at Mom's."

She listened for awhile and then frowned. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" She glanced toward the backyard. "I don't know where Trevor went, but I'll ask him. I'll see you at home when you get there."

She turned to her mother as she disconnected. "Joel asked me if Trev wants to come down to the police station and hang out with him tomorrow while he works."

"You're going to let him do that? That's dangerous!"

"I like that he wants to share things with Trevor. And I trust Joel. He said tomorrow would be a good day to do it. He'll be cautious. I mean he's a detective. He's not chasing criminals in a squad car."

"Joel is the best thing that happened to you," Mrs. Belmont said.

"He's wonderful. I just wish he wouldn't get so frustrated with work. He keeps complaining that the Kingsbury police are way too relaxed and don't pay any attention to detail. He was just telling me how they destroyed some evidence by mistake from that robbery the other day at 7-11." Jan reached for her purse. "Well, we better get going."

As she stood up, a huge rumble began. It was followed by the ground shaking beneath their feet.

"What's going on?" Jan yelled. Mrs. Belmont looked around as she suspected the house was about to collapse on top of them. She sat immobile while the noise and vibration filled the house for several seconds.

Rosita came running out of the kitchen. "Terremoto! Terremoto!"

"It's an earthquake!" Mrs. Belmont screamed as she struggled to pull herself off the couch.

"I don't think it's an earthquake. It sounded like it came from in there," Jan said pointing to the den. "Trevor! Where is Trevor?!" She ran to the den with Rosita and Mrs. Belmont close behind. As usual the door to the den was closed. Jan tried to push the door open. It wouldn't budge.

"Mom! Mom!" A frightened voice emanated from inside the room.

"Oh, my God! Trevor!" Jan screamed in horror. "Trevor's in there! Rosita, help me!!"

The two women pressed against the door as hard as they could. In a burst of adrenaline, they were able to thrust the door slightly ajar.

"A little further, Rosita!" They shoved with all their might against whatever was blocking their entrance.

Jan managed to partially wedge her head between the door and doorframe. The room was filled with dust making it hard to see inside. But there was no doubt about it -- Randy's nearly-completed den was in shambles. Two wooden cross-beams had fallen to the ground –one of them was now jammed against the door. She noticed the far wall had also partially come down. Plaster and wood were strewn everywhere. She spotted Trevor. He was lying on the floor in the middle of the room in a state of shock. It looked like the den had literally fallen down around him.

"What is it? What is it?" Mrs. Belmont shrieked in the background. She pushed Rosita aside trying to get to the door herself.

"Trevor, Trevor! Are you okay?" Jan screamed, terrified at what she was seeing.

He looked up. "Mommy! Help!"

Jan tried unsuccessfully to squeeze her body inside as she pushed at the door. "Are you all right, baby? Oh, my God! Quick, Trevor! You've got to get out of there!"

He started to shake as he lifted himself to his feet still clutching his iPad.

Jan turned back to Rosita. "Call 911, Rosita, hurry!"

Trevor stood frozen, staring at his mother's horror-stricken face, as it poked through the small opening at the door. "I'm afraid. I'm afraid!" he said. His arms were bleeding; his eyes were glazed and bugged out, but Jan was encouraged that he was able to speak.

"Come on, honey, it's all right," she said still barely able to see inside. "Can you make it over here?"

"Is he okay?" Mrs. Belmont howled in Jan's ear. She hovered over Jan's shoulder. "He shouldn't be in there!"

"Trevor! Listen to me. You've got to get out of that room!" Jan pleaded trying to hold herself together and ignore her mother. "Can you walk?"

The beams were blocking the path to the door. Trevor strained to focus on his mother's eyes through the dust. He took a step forward and then another, reaching one of the fallen beams. The ceiling hung precariously above him.

"That's it. Be careful, now!" Jan instructed, watching him slowly move in her direction.

"What's going on?" Mrs. Belmont tugged at Jan's blouse. "What happened in there?"

Jan turned to her mother. "Randy's den has collapsed. Mother, get out of the house! Please, it's not safe!"

"No, I'm not leaving without you and Trevor!"

Jan turned back peering through the crack of the door. She could now see Trevor slightly better as the dust in the air settled. "Come on, Trevor. Can you climb over that?"

Trevor looked at the huge wooden beam. He grabbed the top of the wood and pulled himself partially over. The beam shifted, settling further to the ground as Trevor maneuvered his body over it. He coughed as his movements stirred up more dust and jarred some of the hanging debris. Jan looked up and watched helplessly as a sheet of plastic from the recessed lighting unit above suddenly fell from the ceiling on Trevor's head nearly slicing off his left ear. It knocked him back to the ground on top of the rubble.

"Trevor! Jan screamed helplessly from the other side of the door.

He lay in a daze for several seconds with the bits of sharp plastic littering the area around him. He lifted up his head, now cut open. Blood seeped down his face.

"Oh, my God, Trevor!" Jan had lost any composure that she had been clinging to. She wondered if her son would make it out in one piece.

"What was that?" Mrs. Belmont said clutching her daughter.

"Oh, my baby!" Jan cried looking at her in sheer terror.

Mrs. Belmont couldn't take it any longer. She pushed herself in front of Jan and eased her head through the small opening by the door. "Oh dear God!" The image of Trevor amidst the wreckage was too much for her. Her body reeled back. Jan caught her as she was about to fall.

"Mother, please get out of this house!" Jan steadied her and looked into her eyes. Her mother had also gone into shock. "Rosita, help!"

Rosita ran back with the cordless phone still in her hand. "I just called Policia!! They on way!!"

"Help Mother out of here, Rosita!"

"I have to call Randy!" Mrs. Belmont screamed as she scrambled for the phone in Rosita's hand.

"Stop it, Mother! Now go!" Jan yelled. "Rosita, make sure they bring an ambulance. I don't know how bad Trevor is hurt!"

Mrs. Belmont made a step forward towards the door again, but Rosita pulled her back. "Mrs. Belmont, we go!" Rosita grabbed her arm and pushed her towards the front door.

Jan turned and looked through the tiny opening of the door. She saw that Trevor was still sitting up. She was not sure how conscious he was. "Are you all right, honey? Talk to me, Trevor..."

Trevor said nothing but resumed a crawl towards her. Splinters of wood were stuck to his clothes and exposed arms. Bits of drywall were still raining down from above, producing clouds of dust obscuring his view.

"Just follow my voice...this way..." Jan said aching to find a way to rescue him. "You can make it. Just be careful! That's it!"

The specks of drywall and dust in his eyes were obscuring his vision, but the beam of light from the door's opening and his mother's voice guided him as he edged his way toward his escape. He carefully crept through the broken glass and the mangled pieces of wood and plastic. "I'm.... trying, Mom. I can't see..." he finally said able to form some words.

Once he was able to crawl over the second beam, he stood up again. His knees were raw and bleeding from crawling in his torn pants through the debris. Jan was thankful that he was able to stand. "Can you walk, baby? Come on over this way and you can make it out," she said wondering if he would even be able to squeeze through the small opening of the door.

"Honey, the police are on their way too. Don't worry! Don't worry!" Jan continued talking, trying to convince herself as much as her son. "That's it! It's okay. Just a little further."

He was still several feet away from the blocked door when a deafening sound rang through the room. A third beam had cracked and suddenly plunged to the ground, stirring up so much dust that Jan could no longer see inside. "Oh, no! Trevor!" Jan screamed as the ground shook once again.

Trevor fell to the floor as plaster tumbled down over his head. "Mom!" he yelled. He was being buried beneath the rubble. He could no longer see his mother, but could only hear her frightened voice.

"Trevor!" Jan slammed her body against the door, but she couldn't open it any further. Her son was no longer in view.

The beam had landed next to him, bringing down the remainder of the ceiling. Jan heard a cough. There was movement under the debris. Trevor popped his head up pushing off some of the plaster that he was now trapped under. He was in a daze covered up to his neck in the rubble. "Mom!" he whimpered.

"Oh please God! Help!" Jan cried relieved that he was at least alive. "Trevor, my baby!"

Trevor could barely open his eyes, but slowly pushed away pieces of debris to partially uncover himself. As he tried to pull himself upward, he became aware that what had been part of a wall had settled on top of his right leg. With a burst of strength, he lifted it and tried to slip out from under it. He was able to move his leg, bending it in an awkward way to free himself –then let the wood he was holding drop with a thud.

He looked over at his mother and gave a weak smile. "I'm almost there, Mommy." He sat for another moment to catch his breath. He continued toward his mother's voice.

Jan could see his shadow inching towards her as the air cleared slightly once again. Trevor couldn't even feel the fragments of broken glass cutting his arms as he crept along the floor, crawling through the wreckage.

"That's it! You can do it, honey!" Jan was now able to see him clearer, her tears cleaning her eyes from the dust that was circling all around. He was almost within reach. She prayed as she watched her son making his way towards her. Finally she could hear sirens in the background. It had seemed like an eternity.

"Just a little further! That's it!" she said.

He reached the partially opened door to his mother's out-stretched arm. She was able to touch him, pulling him up towards her. "Be careful, now!" Her voice suddenly exuded the needed calmness.

Jan pushed against the door as Trevor inhaled and squeezed his body through the opening. She grasped and hugged him. He had made it out. They were both trembling uncontrollably as Jan kissed her son's bloody forehead. "Trevor, I love you, baby!" They could hear more plaster and wood pummeling to the ground in the den.

"Let's get out of this house!" Jan said once she had her son with her.

She clutched Trevor leading him away from the door.

It was only seconds before they made it to the front yard. Mrs. Belmont was sitting on a bench by the driveway with her head in her hand. Rosita was perched beside her holding her other hand. When they saw Jan and a limping Trevor emerge from the house, both of them burst into tears. Trevor collapsed to the ground. Jan kneeled down beside him and cradled his head in her lap. She glanced back at the scene in disbelief, thankful they were alive.

She looked down and smiled at her son. Trickles of blood ran down his arms and face; his clothes were ripped to shreds, but he had miraculously escaped.

Two policemen appeared and more were running towards them.

"What happened?'

Jan pointed towards the house. "It's the den..."

"Ambulance is on the way," an officer said. Two others proceeded to the front door.

Jan could no longer control her tears as she held her son. "What were you doing in there, honey? I was so worried."

"I just went in there. I don't know why! I know I wasn't supposed to. I'm sorry!" He started to cry. The enormity of what had happened had not yet hit him. He was exhausted and stunned. "I didn't do anything, Mom. Everything just fell all around me. It just fell!!"

Jan searched her pocket for her cell phone. "It's not your fault, baby! I'm just thankful we got you out of there!" The deafening sound of the ambulance's sirens drowned out any more of their conversation. The paramedics swiftly brought out their equipment and started to administer to Trevor. Jan watched and waited and then pressed her speed dial to contact Joel at the police station.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Belmont fumbled to call Randy at the office on the cordless phone that Rosita had still been clutching in her hand. Alexis answered on the first ring.

"Excuse me, doctor... your mother is on the phone," Alexis said spotting Randy in the hallway.

"Tell her I'll call her back," Randy said belligerently. He was annoyed that she had not tried calling him on his cell phone.

"She said it's an emergency."

He was in no mood for her pseudo-emergencies. He stalked into his office and shut the door.

"Yes, Mother," he barked putting the phone to his ear.

His mother's out-of-control voice was on the other end. Immediately, he could tell this was not one of her usual superfluous calls. "Randy! Randy! Trevor was almost killed. The walls... the den. It fell. It was awful." She was delirious.

"Mother what are you talking about! You're not making sense. What walls? What happened?" Randy could hear the sirens through the phone.

She tried to explain, but had now worked herself into a state of hysteria. He couldn't make any sense of her rantings. "Is Rosita there? Put her on the phone!"

"Dr. Randy! Your room, your new room...it came down! Like an earthquake. Terremoto! Trevor was eeen-side! We okay, but very bad! Oh, my God in Heaven..." Rosita said as she also started to lose it.

Another familiar voice came on the line. "Randy, get over here right away!" Jan said. "There's been a disaster. We're alive. But your den...it totally collapsed. It's demolished. Trevor was in there. The paramedics are taking him to the hospital. They're putting him in the ambulance right now. I'm going with him."

"What happened?"

"I don't know, just get over here!"

Randy hung up the phone. A sharp pain pierced through his head. He thought for a moment he was having a stroke. But his instinct told him it was even worse than that. He could no longer deny it. The Cliff had made its first move. This was the sign he had dreaded.

### CHAPTER 16

### AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE RE-EMERGES

An investigation opened into the den's collapse. As the contractor, Randy's best friend Mike Blodgett, was in its crosshairs. Luckily, damage had been confined to the new construction while the rest of the house had remained intact. But the den was nearly a total loss.

No one had ever seen anything quite like it. There had been no earthquake in the area. The city inspectors made a preliminary analysis of the situation, but were far from any definitive answers. A soil analysis of the property was scheduled. Samples of the wood had already been taken. The investigation would take weeks, if not months.

Mike had also surveyed the situation numerous times. This seemed incomprehensible to him. He had inspected the room only a few days prior to the accident. He was beside himself with guilt and worry.... and was already being criticized around town. His business was sure to suffer. His bloodshot eyes were an indication of his now sleepless nights.

Randy avoided going back to the scene after seeing it just once -- on the day of the collapse. He couldn't handle it. Finally seven days later, Mike convinced him to survey the area with him -- a sea of broken glass, splintered wood, and twisted nails. The hardwood floor was buried. The three fallen wooden beams had crushed everything beneath them. Pieces of the molding were hanging vertically over the cracked walls. A huge board had sliced through the TV/Stereo area, completely destroying it.

Randy peered at the devastating reality around him. Even the add-on private bathroom had damage. One of the beams had crashed down onto the sink, cracking the porcelain and slamming into the fixtures. The shower door had been shattered.

"It started over there," Mike said pointing to the north side of the room where the fallen first beam still lay. "Looks like this beam snapped, bringing the whole corner down. The way that beam fell... and its weight, brought down the other two beams and then this wall. Probably the ceiling collapsed after that. But for such a violent chain reaction, I don't know."

Poor Mike! He'll never know the true cause, Randy thought. Guilt surged through his body. He realized he was now exposing his friends and family to his own dreadful nightmare. Trevor had nearly been killed and Mike's reputation as a contractor was being put into question. It could ruin his career.

Mike continued on, trying to come up with some sort of explanation. "What really puzzles me is what caused the initial break. A weakness inside the wooden beam itself where it connected, maybe. My supplier is already denying that. But it's possible. A joint, I don't think so."

Randy couldn't concentrate on any of the words. He stared at Mike's worried face, illuminated by the sun streaming in through the gaping hole that was now in the wall behind him. Randy shielded his eyes from the light. He could not bear to look at his friend any longer. He was in enough pain himself.

As his eyes focused past Mike, his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. He could see outside through the hole. There was the Cliff... smiling at him. While Mike's voice droned on in the background, Randy stood spellbound -- dazzled by the Cliff's aura as it reached out towards him. They were in communication again.

A feeling of tranquility enveloped him. It felt too good to fight off -- as he was transported into a vaguely familiar out-of-body experience. In this strange delusion, Randy no longer saw the devastation in which he stood. Instead he emerged into an alternate reality. Surrounding him were light orange textured walls enhanced by the rich grains of the oak wood that he had picked out himself in his lavish newly-finished den. He noticed the skylight, filtering in a bit of sunlight. It blended with the recessed lighting perfectly. Light jazz could be heard coming from the built-in stereo in the corner. The small fireplace was warming the area to the perfect temperature. Lush furniture filled the room. The Cliff was showing him what it had to offer. The pain that Randy had felt for the past few weeks was gone.

Meanwhile, Mike continued to ramble on finally realizing that Randy had not heard a word of what he had been saying -- his eyes were glazed over.

"Randy!" Mike put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Randy!"

Randy's body jerked as he lunged back into his body. He let out a deep groan, as he recognized where he stood. He grabbed Mike's arm to help steady himself. That brief experience had felt so good.

Mike looked at his beleaguered friend. Seeing Randy in this confused state only made his own burden worse. "Randy, this whole thing just isn't plausible. There's something else to it." He looked at Randy with a sudden burst of determination. "Listen, buddy, I'll make this right. And I'll find out what happened."

They walked out into the hallway and closed the heavily damaged door behind them -- making their way to the living room where Mrs. Belmont sat visiting with Jan.

"Good-bye, ma'am," Mike said as he solemnly passed Mrs. Belmont's chair.

She glared at him. He hurried to the front door and saw himself out.

Mrs. Belmont turned to Randy. "I hope you sue him," she hissed.

"Shut up, Mother!" Randy stormed up the stairs.

Mrs. Belmont looked at Jan. "I'm worried about him."

Jan leaned back into her chair. She didn't know what to think. She was just thankful Trevor had come out of the whole ordeal relatively intact. He had been checked out thoroughly. There was no concussion from the hit on the head. His right leg was badly bruised, but not broken. A few bits of glass had been taken out of his arms, legs, and face. Seventeen stitches in all were needed. But his body was recovering very quickly.

However, Jan wasn't quite sure how the boy was faring mentally. Trevor now refused to talk about what had happened. He said that he didn't want to rehash it. Jan wondered if there might be some post-traumatic stress. He assured her that he was okay, but she wasn't convinced. She was watching him closely.

Also, she was hoping that the experience might alter Trevor's too-independent nature, as she viewed it. But it was developing into just the opposite. He still liked doing things by himself, shunning his friends more than he had before. The bright spot was his growing relationship with his new step-father. Joel's detective work interested him.

"Trevor's with Joel today. They're down at the police station and Joel is showing him around," Jan said trying to find a pleasant topic.

"I can't believe they let a 12-year-old boy wander around the police station!"

"He's not going to be wandering around, Mother. Anyway, it's Joel's day off and he took him there to show him what he does. I love that the two of them are spending time together."

"I've noticed Trevor hasn't come over to see me since the accident," Mrs. Belmont said.

Jan rolled her eyes. "It's nothing personal, Mom. Give him some time. He isn't ready to come back over here," Jan said. "I mean that was pretty daunting for him. But he's doing all right."

"Well, I'm so thankful for that," Mrs. Belmont said. She turned and gazed up the stairs. "Randy on the other hand is not all right..."

Everyone had noticed it. Randy had become extremely short-tempered. Everything bothered him. He had called Diane in Palm Springs to tell her the news of the calamity. But even the soothing sound of her voice didn't help him now. He decided to stop calling her -- telling her that they would see each other when she returned in a couple days.

As anxiety set in – reaching for a valium was becoming a daily ritual, even though they tended to make him sick to his stomach. But even worse, Randy felt like he wanted to jump out of his skin. He'd never experienced such a hideous sensation. He knew he was going insane.

He thought about going to a psychiatrist, but quickly abandoned that idea. How could he tell him the truth? He would be incriminating himself -- and his role as victim of a curse would not be believed.

He thought maybe Diane would understand. But he was not ready to open up about his past transgression. Surely she would reject him at the very least or maybe even report him. He wondered about telling Mr. Wellington. But he dismissed the idea. Randy felt he could trust no one. He isolated himself. He figured the only one who could help him now was the Cliff. It was the only way out of the unbearable torment into which he, his friends, and family were being plunged.

He resumed his routine of sitting on the patio every evening -- looking up at the Cliff. There was no doubt what it wanted. The preposterous idea of a sacrifice, that Wellington had planted in his mind weeks prior, was becoming a possibility. As Randy's anguish reached new levels, his initial thought of "How could I do that?" was gradually changing to... "When could I do that?"...and then to the frightening question "To Whom could I do that?"

The answer to the final question seemed to fall in his lap. It started with one of his patients. A strangely familiar one. At first Randy didn't even recognize him.

Randy opened the door to Examining room #3. "Hello. Mr. Gallagher?"

"Hi Randy. Welcome back."

The familiarity of the hello caused Randy to study the man's face. Was he supposed to know him? He looked down at the man's chart again – Brandon Gallagher.

"You don't remember me, do you?"

The last thing Randy wanted to do with his last patient on a Friday was play guessing games. The man was dressed in a tan work-shirt and cargo pants. He had a thinning hairline, close-set eyes, and chapped lips. He was a bit paunchy and red-faced. Probably a drinker, Randy thought.

"I'll give you a hint," the man said. "Wanna fight?"

Randy could feel his mouth drop open, as the rush of bad memories came flooding into his mind.

"Bart? Bart Gallagher."

Randy never dreamed that he would see his old nemesis again. He knew as a doctor he was to put everything aside to help a patient, but this might be too much.

"Maybe the name threw you. I know you knew me as Bart. That's always been my nickname," he said.

Bart looked different now. Time had not been particularly kind to him.

Randy forced a hollow smile. "If it isn't the bully of the Kingsbury School District. Do you know you terrorized the rest of us through school?"

"Let's face it. I was a rotten kid." Bart laughed as he eyed Randy for a favorable response. He received a stony-faced stare. "Anyway, I heard about your discovery and want to congratulate you on that....and apologize for what an asshole I was when we were kids. In fact, I was even a little hesitant to come to you as a patient after all those fights we had."

Randy stood speechless. Yes, he should be hesitant! Bart's bad judgment astonished him. People think doctors are above it all when it comes to feelings, he thought. Randy had been carrying around these wounds over 20 years...mixed in with the guilt he had suppressed over Jeremy's death. And now Bart comes in offering some half-baked apology!

Randy looked at his one-time enemy. He could feel his jaw tighten, not willing to acknowledge his request for forgiveness. "What have you been doing with yourself?"

"Well, I just moved back into town too. Can you believe it? After twelve years working my butt off in Seattle and a crummy marriage to boot, I decided to chuck it all. I took a position right back here in Kingsbury at Infusion Software. And well, I'm starting over. I saw your name when I was searching for a doctor in my new health insurance book and well....here I am."

"So you're living back here in town, huh?"

"Sure am. I rented an apartment over on Valley Glen, but I'm already looking at property around here. Then I'm going to have a house built, just the way I want it. I'm in town for good."

Randy looked at Bart incredulously. It was still sinking in who was sitting in front of him. But he didn't want to make small-talk. "Is there something specific that's bothering you?" Randy asked.

"It's headaches, Randy. I'm having terrible ones."

Join the club Randy thought. Did Bart push someone off a Cliff too? That was when the revelation hit. Bart had come back into his life for a reason.

### CHAPTER 17

### THE DIAMOND BAR & GRILL

"Thank you, June," Randy called out from his office.

"Have a good weekend, doctor," she answered.

He heard the door close. Randy sat at his desk and took a couple shallow breaths. He was all alone. He loosened his tie and rubbed his eyes hard. Bart's out-of-the-blue appearance had stirred up some extreme emotions. Even Randy knew that in his fragile state, that might not be a good thing.

He had been working all day long and was glad the work week had finally come to an end. His office was starting to get claustrophobic, but he didn't want to go home. He pulled his phone from his pocket and hit the number 2.

"Mom, I want to catch up with some things here in the office before the weekend. I'll eat out somewhere. Make sure to tell Rosita." He wouldn't be able to think with his mother hounding him. Luckily, she didn't put up a fight.

"Ok, that's fine," she said. He had caught her in the middle of Wheel of Fortune. "By the way, you said Rosita again. That deplorable Katy is here."

Randy hung up. He missed Rosita too. For a week now, Katy had replaced her part-time, while still working for Mr. Wellington. But it wasn't the same.

Randy leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head. There was no way he could continue working this evening. A change of venue was what he needed. He remembered a restaurant/bar on Gateway Avenue and decided to have a drink there, maybe some dinner. But first one more pain pill for the road.

As usual, the Cliff loomed ahead as he drove down Gateway. The distraction caused him to drive right past the parking lot entrance of the bar. He pulled over to the side of the road and turned off his engine. He knew he couldn't resume driving. Randy glared through the windshield at the Cliff. "Thanks a lot!" he fumed. "Why did I ever come back to this town?!"

He left his car parked on the street and trudged back to the bar He could feel the Cliff breathing down his neck as he walked. He shook it off – trying to focus on the flashing neon sign Diamond Bar and Grill. The Diamond had been a fixture in Kingsbury for years and was a popular place for the locals. Randy had never gone inside, but had passed it by for more years than he could remember.

He swung open the front door. A hostess stand was in the front, but no hostess in sight. To the right was the restaurant where several customers were dining and to the left was the bar – much darker than the restaurant, almost like a cave. That was more what he was looking for -- away from any glaring reality. As he entered, he noticed a few people at the far end of the bar, some hidden in the back booths. It was hard to make out anyone's face. It was just the way he wanted it. A TV with the sound turned down was on -- lighting up the bottles and glasses below it, as rock music played in the background. The bartender filled his order of V.O. & 7 as Randy eyeballed one of the many empty booths. He could sit back there unnoticed.

He tried to let his mind go blank while he guzzled down his first drink. As he sank lower and lower into the booth, he felt his body twitch. It wasn't long before images of a young Bart started to dominate his mind. He had not thought of his altercations with this childhood bully in years, but now started to re-live them. After a grueling fifteen minutes he was ready for a second drink. He needed desperately to calm his nerves. His eyes had adjusted to the lack of lighting. There seemed to be no waitresses – he would have to go back up to the bar and get the drink himself. He pulled some money out of his wallet and decided to sit down on a barstool. This might be a long night.

As he pushed his empty glass towards the bartender, he couldn't keep his mind off Bart -- how he had strolled into his office with such an insincere apology. Who the hell did he think he was? But as he obsessed more and more about it, he came to the conclusion that it was no random coincidence that Bart had come into his office.

He was reminded of Wellington's cryptic remark of the Cliff's powers -- or should he say demands! The Cliff might require an additional sacrifice. It might be the only way out of the dilemma which now engulfed him. And Bart was his way out.

Randy stared into his drink. His mind filled with excuses and rationalizations as he talked himself into becoming a part of something that he would never have imagined before. Bart deserved the fate that would be handed him. His death on the Cliff would be a pay-back for all the kids that he had bullied. It would be for Jeremy too. How perfect could this be?

The thought of it made him shake, but Bart's re-appearance into his life was too convenient to be ignored. And Randy desperately needed some relief... if Mr. Wellington's theory was correct he could get 20 years of relief...or 20 years in prison. He shuddered. No, the Cliff would somehow protect him.

"Could I get another drink?" he called out to the bartender who was now looking at Randy warily.

Randy started to squirm in his seat. His thoughts were becoming so loud in his mind that he didn't even see the two hands that were encircling his head landing over his eyes. He spun around on the barstool and peeled the hands from his face, knocking over his newly-poured drink in the process. There was his childhood friend.

"Ginny!" He was unable to conceal his disgust.

"Hi, honey!" Ginny hugged him as he cringed in her embrace. His sleeve was wet with V.O. Randy looked down at the mess on the bar.

The bartender quickly mopped up the drink.

"That's okay. I'll get you another one," the bartender said. "And you....." He turned to Ginny. "I'm gonna throw you out of here in a minute."

"Oh, Jerry, gimme a break," she retorted. "Here. I'll pay for it." She dug in her purse and pulled out a 10 dollar bill and flung it in his direction. "How are you doing, baby?" she asked, turning to Randy as she put her face close to his, hoping for a kiss.

He recoiled, giving her the once-over. Her appearance had rendered him speechless.

"Did you just get here? I didn't see you," Ginny slurred. She had obviously been there awhile.

He was surprised he hadn't seen her either -- in that ridiculously bright orange pantsuit she wore. So this is how she spends her evenings -- getting sauced in a bar. He was not surprised.

He had known her since 2nd grade, but she was mainly a friend of his sister's. By high school Ginny had become one of the easiest lays in the class. Randy had always tried to steer clear of her, even though they had shared one hot and heavy session in his car years ago when they were teenagers.

"I haven't been here long. In fact, I was just about to leave!" Randy gulped down his fresh drink. He figured that since he could barely tolerate her under normal circumstances, tonight especially would be a struggle to even be civil.

"Oh, don't go yet. I want to talk to you," she said as she plopped herself on the barstool next to him.

He had come here not wanting to be disturbed or seen -- and now with all the commotion she was stirring up, everyone was staring at them. Obviously she was the joke of the bar. This was not the way for Randy to stay incognito.

"I'm so glad to see you. I've never seen you in here. I come here all the time." Her voice got louder as she rambled. "I just live right down the street. I walk here almost every night," she said cozying up to him, ignoring any boundaries.

He could hear her gaudy dangling earrings clank. She looked like a cross between a hooker and a parrot, he thought. Everything about her repulsed him. Her appearance, her behavior -- even her smell irritated him.

"You know I was so jazzed when I heard you were coming back to town. Why you would want to come back here is beyond me!? This place is BOOORRR--ING." Her overdone gestures nearly knocked over his drink once again.

"I've had a real tough day, Ginny....."

"You never came in for that haircut," Ginny said putting her hands in his hair. "Remember at your mama's party, I told you to come down to my salon..."

He grabbed her hands and pushed them back at her. "Stop it, Ginny! I'm not in the mood for your bullshit!"

She looked at him with a pout. "I'm sorry, honey. Let's be friends, okay?"

Randy didn't want to cause any more of a scene. "Okay. Just keep your hands off me," he muttered.

She suddenly got up. "Save this seat. I gotta go to the little girl's room," she said in a loud whisper.

Randy watched her sashay towards the back of the bar. He knew it was time to leave. He continued to look as she disappeared into the restroom then finally turned away seeing that she had left her purse with him. What a dingbat! Oh well, he could just give it to the bartender and make a fast escape while she was gone. But he didn't get up. Instead, he ordered another drink.

As he sat alone staring into space, his mind once again turned to his obsession—Bart. His thoughts centered on finding a plan to get him up on the Cliff. He leaned back on his barstool when an eerie realization hit. He wouldn't have to plan it. The Cliff would do it for him. All Randy had to do was decide if he was going to be part of it. Then again he wondered if he even had a choice in the matter.

"SO, what are ya doing tonight, huh?" The familiar boozy female voice boomed in his ear.

Randy jumped once again this time holding onto his drink. He couldn't even obsess in peace.

"You know I was thinking about something," Ginny said as she climbed back on her stool.

"You were? Well do it somewhere else," Randy said, handing Ginny her purse. "Ginny, I don't want to talk."

She put her hand on the inside of his leg. "Well we don't have to talk."

Randy was now several drinks into the evening and had hoped that the booze would have taken the edge off by now. But it hadn't. His mental state was only worse. Ginny had aggravated his condition, which at this stage, didn't take much.

He moved his leg hoping she'd get the hint. Of course, she ignored any such subtlety.

"Listen, Ginny. I don't want to be rude. But could you just leave me alone! I need to think about a few things by myself. You get it?"

His outburst got the attention of the entire bar. Ginny stared at him with her mascara-laden raccoon eyes.

"Okay, okay," She kissed him on the cheek. "You're missin' something, baby." As she flounced back down to the other end of the bar, Randy couldn't have been more relieved.

"Good choice, buddy," the bartender said as he filled Randy's glass up once more.

Randy wasn't so sure. As zany as Ginny was, she might be his only link to sanity tonight.

He got up and glanced around, drink in hand. The effect of the alcohol was now being felt. There was one empty booth in the bar area left – the one he had been in when he had first arrived. He reclaimed it for his own as he leaned his back into the soft cushion. His headache was finally gone or at least suppressed. He sat for another fifteen minutes in peace when the perfect excuse to lure Bart to the Cliff formulated in his mind without his having to even think about it.

He remembered that Bart was looking for property. He could drive him up to the Cliff on the pretense of checking out land in that area. The Cliff would take it from there. He would present the idea at Bart's follow-up appointment. Randy smiled as he felt a weight lifting off his shoulders. He knew where the inspiration had come from. Thank you, Cliff! It was already orchestrating a sequence of events that couldn't be stopped. Randy was just being used as part of the process. He knocked back his last drink and decided to leave -- he could immerse himself in his own murderous thoughts elsewhere.

He sauntered out to the parking lot and then down the street where he had parked. Once he got into his car, he peered up at the Cliff, hovering like a medieval dragon semi-lit by the half moon. Its overwhelming presence was too much for him to handle. He broke down. How could he be so possessed? Tears came to his eyes. What was he going to do? Was murder his only choice? He pushed the seat back and closed his eyes. His thoughts had exhausted him.

He woke up a couple hours later – with the answer. He was going to die. He looked ahead through his windshield. He was going to drive up to the Cliff and jump. And he knew exactly the spot. He would be killed upon impact. And then the pain would be over. He would do it tonight.

He looked at the Cliff for approval. To his surprise, it gave none. He searched his pocket for his keys. As he put them in the ignition, he noticed a figure through the rear view mirror. Someone was coming towards his car. As the figure drew near, he recognized who it was. He looked away from the mirror and gazed back up at the Cliff. It was smiling again.

Randy rolled down the window.

"Wanna ride?"

### CHAPTER 18

### THE WHIRLING DERVISH

Ginny stared bleary-eyed into the car.

"Randy!" she yelped once she had focused. "Baby!"

"Shhhhh! Just get in the car," Randy said, motioning her to walk over to the passenger side.

She staggered around the front and found her way to the car door. Randy checked his rearview mirror to see if anyone was watching. No cars were approaching and he didn't see a soul outside the bar. She fumbled around trying to open the door. Randy reached over and pushed it open. Maybe Ginny's presence would help ground him. He sure needed it. But of all people to help!! A drunk floozy from his past who had the hots for him.

As soon as she threw her purse inside and fell into the seat, Randy twisted the key in the ignition and sped off up Gateway Avenue. The Cliff towered hungrily ahead, smiling at the unlikely couple.

"Thanks, honey." She obviously was out of it and had been trying to stumble home. She leaned over in his direction and tried to kiss him.

"Ginny, wait a minute. I'm trying to keep the car on the road here," he said pushing her away.

Ginny sat back in her seat trying to comprehend her situation. "You gonna drive me home, aren't you? I live right up here, baby. And you gotta come in, okay? Please, baby..." She pointed randomly somewhere ahead.

He paid no attention to her. He had his destination set. They were going to the Cliff. After his 2-hour nap in the car, Randy was surprisingly alert and sober. He stepped on the gas reaching no faster than the speed limit of 45. He didn't want a cop to pull him over.

Luckily, there were very few people on Gateway tonight, he thought. By the time they had stopped at the first red light, Ginny had moved as close to him as the bucket seats would allow. He felt her hands all over him and her mouth searching for his lips. As they sat at the red light, he kissed her. She would need encouragement to go along with his plan -- whatever it was. He was not at all sure himself. The light turned green and he hit the accelerator, jerking her back to her seat.

"Turn right up here baby," she said. Randy wasn't listening. He kept going. "Don't you want to come over to my apartment?" she asked as they passed the turn-off to her street.

Randy didn't answer. He was concentrating on a pair of headlights in the rearview mirror. He turned right at the next side street. He wanted no one behind him. He pulled over to the curb and turned off his lights. Ginny took this as a chance to once again try to seduce her unwilling crush.

She snuggled up close and started to lick inside his ear. He tilted his head back for a moment enjoying the sensation. Without the Cliff staring at him through the windshield beckoning him on, Randy's mind started to relax. Ginny was thrilled that he was perhaps succumbing to her long-held desires.

"Randy, you know I've always been in love with you," she murmured.

Randy shoved her back onto her seat and sneered at her. Her pathetic admission had snapped him back to some sort of reality.

In a moment of truth he couldn't help but blurt it out. "Ginny, I don't love you. I never did, and I never will!"

In Ginny's liquored-up mind it didn't matter. After all, it was Randy. She had always wanted him. She pushed herself back onto him and thrust her tongue in his mouth. Randy tried to forget who she was. He kissed her back. He tried to forget who he was. It was becoming easier. They thrashed around in the front seat until they both realized it was becoming too uncomfortable in the cramped surroundings.

"Let's go to your house," Ginny said coming up for a breath. She wanted to go all the way and even in her state she knew this wasn't going to work in the car.

Randy stared into her eyes. How wrong could this be, he wondered. He had only scratched the surface.

"I've got a better idea," he said.

He started the car and made a u-turn in order to get back onto Gateway Avenue. "Listen, how would you like to go for a ride first?"

She was up for anything as long as she was with Randy.

"All right, baby. Where are we going?"

Randy turned to look at her. "I'm going to kill myself. Wanna watch?"

Ginny leaned back into her seat. She was not sure what she had just heard. He turned right onto Gateway – back on the road to Spirits Cliff. They sat in silence as the Cliff urged them towards it. It was Randy who finally broke the silence.

"When was the last time you were at Spirits Cliff?" he asked.

"Spirits Cliff? Is that where we're going?"

Randy nodded keeping his eyes glued to the road.

"I don't want to go to Spirits Cliff!" she sputtered in a brief moment of clarity.

Randy was on a mission and would say or do anything now to get her to go along with it. "We can do it like a couple of teenagers."

"Can't we just go back to my apartment? You can stay there all night. We can make love. I want to be in your arms. ..."

He barely heard her. He just heard some words that sounded like protest. He couldn't stand to listen to her whine. He knew he had to end his own torture, one way or another. Why wait for a chance to sabotage Bart? Tonight was the night. He was in murder mode. He just was not sure who was going to die.

"C'mon baby. I want to take you right up here. I've always wanted you Ginny," he said hoping to shock her into submission. Even in her most delusional state, she knew that wasn't true. But this might be her only chance with him. She was willing to go anywhere.

They were nearing the gravel road that led up to the Cliff. Randy had heard that it had been blocked off due to the preliminary construction work on the backside. He saw the entrance. The chain across the road had been lowered. He could drive right across it onto the gravel. How convenient! He was sure that the Cliff had seen to that!

He decided to turn off his headlights as they made their way up the mountain. The parking lights stayed on to barely illuminate the road. In Randy's hyper state they were all that he seemed to need. The car rattled as he barreled along the gravel surface bouncing both of them up and down in their seats.

Ginny looked ahead into the darkness as she held onto the dashboard. "Randy, what you are doing?" she cried finally sensing some danger. "Slow down, would you!"

But he drove even faster as he felt a familiar pull of the Cliff drawing him up to the top for the final event. He couldn't feel the bumps and thumps that were jarring them back and forth. Randy's mind drifted. Faces crowded into his thoughts and he started to hallucinate. First and foremost there was Jeremy; then images of others popped into his brain: Bart, Ginny, and a gallery of people he didn't know. Some were vaguely recognizable, some were not. He had remembered seeing one of the faces many times in some portrait, but he couldn't place her. His driving now became reckless as his mind became more fragmented.

The car reached its final destination -- the turn-around. It was as far as autos could go. Randy hit the brakes and turned off the engine. He looked ahead and behind. The coast was clear -- no one in sight.

He needed to get this over with. Randy would give the Cliff his own life. He envisioned himself jumping off the edge where he had pushed Jeremy over twenty years ago. But he sensed the Cliff did not favor suicide.

He looked over at Ginny with a renewed interest. She knew something was awry, but her own urges compounded by liquor, were too strong for her to heed her intuition. Randy smiled at her. Ginny reached over to him and closed her eyes waiting for his caress. It never came.

"Baby, I know you don't love me. It doesn't matter. Just make love to me," she pleaded.

"C'mon. Get out," said Randy grabbing for the door handle.

"Get out?" Ginny couldn't believe her ears.

"Yes. Get out," he snarled.

"I don't want to get out." She reached again for him wanting to draw him close to her.

He pushed her away. "Get out. Come on. I want to make love to you outside."

Randy opened the door and jumped out. As his feet touched the ground, a jolt of electricity surged through his body. His return to the Cliff was more than he could ever imagine. His senses were heightened. He breathed deep as the Cliff's energy welcomed him back home.

"C'mon, Ginny! It's amazing out here!" he said turning his attention back to her. She was still sitting perplexed in the safety of the car.

"I don't even have my shoes on," she said.

"Well, put them on!"

He was losing his patience and didn't want to lose his nerve. He needed a quick resolution. Any foreplay would just make it harder. And if any wayward teens looking for a good time decided to make the trek up the hill, his plan would have to be aborted. He had come this far and he wanted to follow it through....NOW.

Ginny searched the dark car for her shoes. Randy watched nervously through the window as she clumsily slipped them on. He opened the car door and pulled her out. She stood there confused as he slammed the door.

Randy put his arm around her waist leading her up a slight incline.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"There's a spot up here that you're going to like."

Randy held her tighter. Ginny stumbled as he guided her higher and higher up the slope.

"Just a little further, baby," he said. His steps were robotic as he dragged her along.

Every time she protested, Randy would kiss her on the mouth to shut her up. She was loving the interest that Randy was showing, not realizing Randy's true attention was elsewhere.

They reached the top of the Cliff where the whole city could be viewed. Ginny tried to focus, but the lights were a blur. The fresh air had made her dizzy. She clutched Randy even tighter, but could feel the distance between them.

They stood on the spot where he and Jeremy had played. Randy drew them closer to the edge, but a gust of wind pushed them back. The breeze was getting stronger. Randy started to become light-headed. The crickets were deafening he thought...or was that just the sounds in his head. He leaned on Ginny as his head began to spin. This was not the place to have vertigo.

Ginny drew him closer trying to pull him down to the ground as she went limp in his arms. He looked at her face. Why was he doing this to her? He kissed her. Her body quivered as she savored the moment. It was a sickening kiss he thought.

"There's a place right over here I want to go," Randy said as he wiped her taste from his mouth.

He led her to the dark side of the Cliff away from the lights of the town. The half moon barely illuminated the ground as they walked, but Randy could clearly see every step they took. They finally reached the very spot where he had watched Jeremy plunge to his death. There was no breeze, no crickets, no feeling.

"Look up at the stars, Ginny."

As she looked up, Randy looked down. He stepped closer to the edge, leaving Ginny staring up at the stars. This would be easier than he thought as he viewed the dark abyss below. He inched his way closer to the edge expecting the Cliff to pull him to his death. When that unexpectedly didn't happen, Randy realized he would have to jump, merely on his own impulse. That might be harder. In fact, the Cliff's energy was pushing back.

He looked over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of Ginny. A new excitement had gripped her. She started to twirl pointing upwards with both her hands.

"This is beautiful," she said getting into the moment. She laughed as she spun around and around in a circle. Randy looked at her puzzled. What was she doing? She danced a mysterious step that seemed to now possess her. It looked like some sort of ritual. Her arms were spread out wide as she performed the strange dance looking up to the sky.

Randy froze. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. He now understood that she was out of his hands – and delivered into the clutches of something beyond his comprehension. Something he didn't even want to understand. He had brought the Cliff an offering.

A sudden intense heat gripped the area as the energy of Ginny's weird gyrations increased. Her feet appeared to rise from the ground as she became a whirling dervish. Closer and closer to the edge she twirled. Randy stood motionless as he watched and listened. There was not even a scream.

He didn't remember walking back to his car, or his ride home. He couldn't assimilate what he had just seen. Ginny had just danced a jig right off the Cliff.

### CHAPTER 19

### A BODY IS DISCOVERED

Mr. Wellington looked down at his plate."What's this?"

"It's called breakfast," Katy snipped.

"You know what I mean," he said pushing it away.

"Mr. Wellington, you saw your new diet. That's a poached egg, yogurt, cranberry juice, and a piece of wheat toast with jam," said Katy pointing to each individual item.

"Well, I'd like to ease into this thing. How about giving me a couple pieces of bacon?" Wellington said.

"You agreed to Dr. Belmont's diet and this is what it is. I'm just following orders."

"I'm going to have a talk with Randy about this."

Wellington looked back down at his meal. Okay, he'd go along with it today. He just wanted to let Katy know he didn't like it. He searched the table for the salt.

"I took it off the table," Katy said reading his mind. "That's a no-no."

"What?" Wellington threw his napkin on the table.

"What are you two arguing about now?" Diane said coming in from the kitchen.

"Diane, are you up already? I thought you'd be in bed for awhile. Mr. W. said your plane got in late," Katy said.

"It did....but I'm totally off kilter. Jet lag, I guess. So I thought I'd just get up." Diane was all set to resume helping her uncle clear up the financial dilemma he was in.

"You want some scrambled eggs and sausage?" Katy asked Diane as she looked at Mr. Wellington out of the corner of her eye. He grunted in disgust. She just loved to get under his skin.

"No just coffee and toast for me."

"Very ironic dear," Wellington said. "You can have whatever you want to eat and you just want toast and coffee."

"I can't have whatever I want, Uncle Julius. And Katy is only trying to help you," she said looking at his breakfast. She knew how he liked his scrambled eggs and bacon.

"I certainly am, Mr. Wellington. Try the poached egg. It's really not bad. Put some pepper on it. That'll help," Katy said.

Wellington glanced up at the television set as he pulled his plate back in front of him. The ritual of watching the morning news at breakfast was not to be interrupted, even if his food had been altered. He wanted as few changes as possible.

Diane looked down at her tablet.

"Why do you bring that to the table, dear?" Wellington asked.

"I guess it's my version of your TV, Uncle Julius." Diane smiled. "I do have some things I want to accomplish today. Mr. Hodges at your bank emailed me some of your financial documents. We can look them over together. Then you can determine for yourself if it's feasible for you to move...."

"Diane, why don't you relax? I don't want to move!"

"Uncle Julius, you wanted me to help you. If you don't like it, then just tell me and I'll go home," Diane said. She knew that would get him.

"You know I want you to stay here. But I thought we were going to just fix the old place up," he said.

That had been a possibility. But before Diane had left, several contractors had come out to assess the cost of repairs for the house. Their estimates were mind-boggling. She knew when the final figures came in today from the bank, the writing would be on the wall. The expenses to repair the house were going to far outweigh the money available. As sad as it was, she needed to make him understand.

"Once you get a handle on what your assets are, we can determine if you really can afford to fix this place. But the way it is now..." Diane looked around. "It's not safe anymore to live in this house."

"If the city came out here, they could condemn it," Katy added.

"If they come out here, I'll get my gun. They're not getting in here!!" Wellington retorted.

Wellington had mentioned his gun a couple times before, which always made Diane very uneasy. "You are not going to do that!" she said.

"I'm going to die in this house!" he said banging on the huge oak dining table rattling the dishes.

"The house will fall down, but he and this table will be the only things sitting here when the dust settles," Katy said.

Diane looked up at the spots in the ceiling where the plaster was starting to show through and flake down. "Let's just wait for the figures from the bank. And then you can decide." The whole ordeal was breaking her heart. She loved her uncle's old house too. But she knew he could no longer live like this.

"How did everything go while I was gone?" she asked feeling it wise to change the subject.

"Your Uncle Julius behaved himself pretty much," Katy said.

"Yes, but she didn't!" Wellington said pointing at Katy with his fork.

Diane chuckled. She was amused by their friendly bickering. "Have you started over at Randy's house yet, Katy?" Diane asked as she glared over at the blaring television. She realized that she was having to scream over it. Wellington's hearing had gone bad, just like the rest of his body.

"Yes, I've gone over to their house for a few days now. That Mrs. Belmont is kind of snarly though." Katy looked at Wellington. "You've got some competition in that arena, boss."

"Well, you don't have to moonlight, Katy. I can give you more hours," Wellington said as he ventured a bite of his poached egg.

Katy and Diane looked at each other. They both knew that the cash flow in the Wellington household was nearly nonexistent – even though Mr. Wellington didn't want to admit it.

"Oh, Katy, Randy's mom couldn't be that bad, could she?" Diane asked.

"If I hear her say Rosita one more time I think I'm going to quit! Rosita did it this way. Rosita didn't do it like that....on and on..." Katy was not happy.

"You'll get used to each other. It takes a while. Look at you and Uncle Julius..." Diane said trying to look on the hopeful side.

"Yes, it's taken us 25 years!" Wellington chimed in. He smushed his toast into his poached egg. It wasn't so bad after all. Katy smiled at the unspoken approval.

"How's Randy doing?" Diane asked. "I haven't heard from him in the past three or four days." She had missed their nightly chats that he had abruptly cut off.

"I don't see him much. Just his mother," Katy said as she sat down. She ate her meals now in the dining room with Wellington. Long ago, she had eaten in the kitchen, but such decorum became absurd as Katy became his chief companion over the years.

"I waited and waited for Randy last night to get home before I left. I just wanted to make sure he got home so I wouldn't leave Mrs. Belmont alone. He finally came in and went right upstairs. Didn't even say hello or good-bye. He probably didn't even see I was there. I had dozed off on their sofa," Katy said pouring herself some coffee.

"His practice has overwhelmed him, I think. He must have been tired from work," Diane said.

"I don't know. He got in really late. As soon as I saw he was home, I left. I had to struggle to get here this morning."

"Oh well, don't let me interfere with your second job!" Wellington looked up from his eggs.

"Don't be jealous now!" Katy said. "Dr. Belmont probably does work too hard though. He looked like a zombie when he came in last night."

Diane's phone rang. She looked down at her read-out and smiled when she recognized the number.

"Speak of the devil..." she said."Hello, Randy!"

"Ask him if I can have some bacon!" Wellington shouted as he flipped the channels on his remote control.

"No, Mr. Wellington. Now I'm not going to fry any bacon!" Katy yelled over the TV.

"Shhhhh!" Diane said. She decided to take the call in the kitchen away from the clatter of the friendly combatants.

"Would you turn that down!" Katy said assuming the noise of the TV had chased Diane into the other room.

Wellington grabbed for his remote.

"Maybe this new diet of yours will help me too. I could lose a few pounds," Katy said settling in to her breakfast. As she took her first bite, she glanced up at the TV screen. "Uh, oh! Would you turn that up?"

Wellington glared at her."Would you make up your mind!"

"It says breaking news! I want to hear it!" Katy said.

"It's always breaking news! It could have happened three days ago and they call it breaking news!!" Wellington said as he turned the TV up secretly wanting to know what the breaking news was himself.

"We go to Skycam 2. Tiffany Chang, what have you got for us?" the newscaster barked.

"Police have just picked up a body in the Kingsbury region off of Spirits Cliff. They are bringing it up now from the ravine. No information on the identification of the person. But we are told that work crews on the Cliff spotted the body this morning and called police."

"Oh, my goodness! I hope that doesn't start up there again now!" Katy said.

Wellington said nothing. He just stared at the set.

"Randy and I are going to go out tonight. Uncle Julius. Is that okay?" Diane said coming back into the room. She was smiling from ear to ear. "Can you stay over here this evening Katy?"

"Yes, I can be here. Mrs. Belmont can fend for herself," she said.

"Thank you. I've been looking forward to seeing Randy," Diane said. "He had been so worried after all that happened at his house...you know with his nephew and that horrible den construction. But today he sounds really relaxed and happy again."

"I bet it has something to do with you being back in town," Katy said with a gleam in her eye. Her attention turned back to the TV. "They just found a body off the Cliff."

Diane looked at the screen. "Really! Oh dear. I remember when I was here a long time ago. That little boy that was here... Randy's friend.... died up there too."

"That Cliff has a bad reputation. Doesn't it Mr. Wellington?" Katy said looking at her boss.

Wellington ignored her.

The newscast caught the entire town's attention. Everyone held their breath waiting for the identity of the unfortunate person who was to become the 20th fatality in the Cliff's violent history.

Jan's phone rang as she was about to go out the door to work. It was Joel.

"Hi honey. What's up? Is Trevor okay?" she asked. Joel had taken Trevor with him again to work on what Joel figured would be a slow day.

"Yeah, he's with me. He's fine. Did you see the news?"

Jan had not had a chance to turn on the TV. She was running late as usual.

"No. Why?" she asked as she multitasked around the house.

"Well, a body was found up in the Cliff area this morning."

Jan gasped. "Is Trevor all right?" Memories of the den collapse still haunted her.

"Yes, yes. I'm calling because...well...it was a woman. They just ID'ed the body."

Jan knew this was not going to be good news. She stopped doing everything and sat down on the couch waiting for what was to come. "Who was it, Joel?"

"Now listen. We haven't notified the next of kin or anything, so please don't mention this to anyone yet, okay?"

"All right! All right!" Joel was making her very nervous with his build-up.

"Virginia Stewart."

Jan paused for a moment. Hearing Ginny's full name threw her for a moment.

"I know you were friends with her and all," Joel said still waiting for a response.

"Oh, my God! She's dead?!"

"Yes, she is. And her body is well...they tell me it got pretty tore up."

Jan sat on the couch speechless. She had remained friends with Ginny over the years, seeing each other occasionally for lunch and usually twice a month for a hair appointment.

Joel could tell by her silence that the news was hitting her hard. "Listen, Jan, maybe you should stay home from work today and go over to your mother's. Just to be with someone."

"Are you sure it's Ginny?" she asked with a tremble in her voice.

"Well there was no wallet on her body, but they found a Costco card in her pocket. I'm going up there right now. And well, I guess I can identify the body myself," Joel said. He hated to be the one to tell his wife the news. He had met Ginny several times through Jan. He had always been amused by her and thought she was full of life.

"Jan...do you know if she has any family in town?"

"No, I don't think so. Her mother died about five years ago. She didn't have any brothers or sisters. Maybe someone over at the Beauty Spot might know. I might have a phone number of one of her ex-husbands."

"Well, if you could, see if you can find it. I might need it," Joel said. "I'm so sorry, honey. I'll call you after I go up there," he said.

Jan started to cry. "Oh my God! Poor Ginny! How did it happen?!"

"I have no idea yet. That's what we're going to try to find out," he said. "Listen, Trevor wants to ride up with me..."

"What? No way! I don't want him up there seeing that. You bring him right home," Jan cried.

"I won't let him see anything like that, honey," Joel said.

"I don't care. I want him here with me. You complain about how our small-town police department does crazy things. Well, it's crazy that you would take a 12-year-old boy up there!"

"Mom! Mom!" Trevor was now on the phone. "I want to go with Dad. Please!! Please! I won't get in the way!" he pleaded.

"Honey! It's not a question of getting in the way..."

"Please Dad said it was okay!"

Maybe it was the way Trevor was calling Joel Dad now, or just the confusion she was starting to feel about Ginny's death, but Jan relented.

"She said okay!" Trevor handed the phone back to his step-dad but Joel was now engrossed in reading the preliminary report. The gruesome discovery had been made around 7:30 am. Mr. Alfonso Hernandez, the foreman of the construction project had spotted the body very easily. Ginny's bright orange pantsuit had stood out like a beacon in the drab brush. It turned out Ginny Stewart was as conspicuous in death as in life.

### CHAPTER 20

### THE INVESTIGATION BEGINS

By the time Joel and Trevor arrived on the Cliff, the place was swarming with looky-loos and the media circus was already setting up camp.

"You stay in the car, Trevor," Joel said. Trevor was already craning his neck to see all the activity.

"Can't I just...." Trevor started.

"Did you hear me? Stay in the car, okay?" Joel repeated. "I'll come and get you when I feel it's safe. But I've got to do my work and I can't be worrying about you."

"Okay," Trevor said, with his face pressed to the window.

As Joel emerged from the car, a news reporter and cameraman rushed towards him. He put his hand up warning them to stop. He spotted his partner, Tony Serrano, who was trying to bring some order to an obviously chaotic scene.

"Who allowed all these media people up here?" Joel asked looking around in disbelief.

Tony shook his head. "The media got wind of this early." They both figured that there would be trouble trying to preserve the crime scene if indeed a crime had been committed.

"What do we know, Tony?"

"Well, the deceased woman is Virginia Stewart, age 33. No other ID was found other than a Costco card. We ran a check and she lives at 14456 St. Charles Road, apartment 6." He pointed to the where the body was lying on the ground under a white sheet. "The coroner is doing his preliminary."

They walked over to where the coroner stood. Joel looked down at the sheet. "I know the deceased," he said. "Virginia Stewart is a good friend of my wife. I can make a positive identification if you need it."

The coroner lifted the sheet uncovering Ginny's bruised and twisted body. Her orange pantsuit was torn exposing part of her upper torso. Her face was smeared with dirt, blood, and makeup.

Joel nodded his head. "Yes, that's her," he said. "I can identify her as Virginia Stewart."

The coroner as usual was matter-of-fact. "She hit pretty hard, it looks like. Head trauma and internal bleeding most likely. I think she took quite a tumble and could have rolled for a great distance." He looked at Joel's face. "Sorry, Joel."

"It's yet to be determined where on the Cliff she actually fell over," Tony added.

"That's why this whole Cliff should be cordoned off," Joel snapped back. One more example of the ineptitude of the police department he was now working for.

"Move everyone back at least one hundred more feet!" Tony barked at two nearby police officers. "And tape off the entire Cliff area!" He turned back to his partner. "We'll move them out of here. I'll take care of the media. They're wanting a statement." Tony straightened his uniform in anticipation of his close-up.

"Well, do your thing," Joel said. He looked over at the over-zealous local TV reporters. After seeing the beat-up body of Ginny Stewart he was in no mood to put up with reporters' questioning. "Anybody I need to talk to?"

Tony pointed to a shell-shocked man standing by himself in front of one of the huge bulldozers that was being used by the work crews. "That's Mr. Hernandez over there. He discovered the body... and he's pretty upset. Both Sergeant Janus and I have talked to him, but you might want to also."

Joel walked over to the man and held out his hand. "Hello, Mr. Hernandez. I'm Joel Adams. Kingsbury Police."

Mr. Hernandez looked pale as he gave Joel his contact information and then recapped his traumatic morning one more time. "We were just starting for the day. Around 7:30 we were clearing brush in this area over here. I just happened to see a bright object as I was surveying." He pointed over the side of the Cliff to some sharp rocks. "Right down there. I couldn't tell what it was at first. Something orange. I thought it might be some clothing. I went to my truck and got out my binoculars so I could see clearer. And I got a bad feeling, a real bad feeling." He ran his fingers through his hair as beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

"I looked out and I saw her. Her face. I could see her face. All bloody. Even her eyes. I never seen nothing like it." He tilted his head down and closed his eyes.

Joel waited for him to gain his composure.

"I gave my binocs to Hector, my brother. He works for me," he continued. He pointed to a man sitting on one of the huge bulldozers. "So he looked and he saw her face too. And then my crew all looked and...oh that poor girl! Poor girl!"

Mr. Hernandez put his hand up to his face. "Then one of my guys, they called the police. They came out in about twenty minutes and these news guys too. We stopped working and just waiting now."

Joel looked over at the six men on Mr. Hernandez' crew. All were on their cell phones. He would bet one of them had alerted the reporters. He hated how the local stations encouraged their viewers to Be an Eyewitness. Call the news first and then the police!

He turned his attention back to Mr. Hernandez who was starting to unravel. "My wife, she told me bad things about this Cliff when I took the job. She said it was evil! I see that now! I see it!"

Hector came running over to comfort his brother. "Take it easy, Tómas."

"Mr. Hernandez," Joel said. "Did you see any cars or anybody up here when you first came to work this morning? What time was that?"

"We got here about 6:30. No one around... no cars," Hector said deciding to answer for his distraught brother. "My brother needs to go home, sir."

"Of course," Joel said. He retrieved a card from his pocket and handed it to Hector. "Obviously, your men won't be able to resume today, Mr. Hernandez. We'll notify your office when you can come back to the site. And you'll be asked to make a formal written statement later down at the station."

"This is not the first thing, you know!" Mr. Hernandez blurted out. "There has been trouble on this whole job from beginning! Three men have already been hurt up here since we started. Two of our bulldozers have broken down too. Right, Hector?"

Hector nodded.

"Awful things have happened on this ground. Not a good place!"

"He believe the stories..." Hector said. "Come on Tómas, let's go home."

Joel watched as Hector led his brother to their truck.

"That guy's had a tough morning," Tony said as he approached.

"Yeah..." Joel put his pad back in his pocket. "How'd it go over there in TV land?"

"Well, they're eating this one up," he said. "It's like they can't wait to spin this into Friday the 13th or some horror movie. They asked some off-the-wall questions that threw me a little. Trying to tie in deaths from over twenty years ago. Kept bringing up how many bodies have been found up here over the years."

"Ratings," Joel said with disgust. "But seems like Mr. Hernandez is buying into it too."

"By the way, you see that person over there?" Tony asked. He pointed to a slender woman who was standing quietly away from the scene. She was dressed in a bright caftan with an array of Indian jewelry around her neck. Her grey hair was pulled back in a long braid. Her hands were covered with rings of turquoise.

"Who is she?"

"A neighbor evidently. She says she might have heard or saw something last night in this vicinity and wanted to report it. I haven't had time to speak with her yet."

"Well, let's see what she has to say," Joel said.

They walked over in her direction as Tony said with a grin, "And uh, she goes by the name of Skylark." Joel could tell this was not going to be a routine case.

"Hello, ma'am. I'm Joel Adams. This is Tony Serrano. We're police detectives for the Kingsbury Police Department."

"Hello, I'm Skylark." The deep creases in her face lightened up as she spoke.

"What's your full name, ma'am? We need it for our records," said Tony.

"Well my birth name is Joslyn Skylark Olsen. But nobody knows me by any other name but Skylark!" she said proudly. "I live over there." She pointed across the ravine to an old looking house painted purple built into the mountain. It overlooked the narrow valley that separated it from the Cliff. "1516 Ash Street. Been there over 50 years. I make pottery. Maybe you've seen it. I sell it every weekend at the Farmers Market in town."

"It looks like you can see pretty clearly over to here," Joel said.

"I can see this end of the Cliff, yes. But not the back side."

"I understand you wanted to report something from last night that might pertain to our investigation?"

"Well, my eyes aren't as good as they used to be. But last night I was closing my curtains and as I looked out I thought I saw some lights over here." She motioned towards the gravel road.

"Can you see the road from your house?"

"A little bit. But mainly I can see lights. I never know if they're from a car or who knows what else."

"What kind of lights do you think you saw last night?"

"Oh.... it was just a faint light. I couldn't really tell, but it caught my eye." She flicked her hands into the air. "It went kind of airborne a bit."

"Do you think the light was from a car?" Tony asked.

"Up here there are all sorts of sights and sounds. That's why they call it Spirits Cliff, you know," she said.

She adjusted her caftan and straightened her jewelry as she went on. "There's so many shadows up here. It could have been anything." She pointed at the bulldozers with disgust. "And now these huge machines looking like big dinosaurs in the dark! You know they'll never be able to tear down this Cliff, don't you? It won't allow such a thing."

"What do you mean?" asked Tony.

"I'm sure you gentlemen are familiar with the history of the Cliff," she said touching both of them gently on the arm.

Tony gave Joel a side-glance. Here we go again. They were going to have to brush up on the Cliff's folklore. "Well, we do know the Cliff has a history, ma'am," Joel said.

"What time did you see this light?" Tony asked trying to veer Skylark back on track.

"I was closing my drapes around eleven. I remember because the cuckoo sounded."

"Did the light last long? Fifteen seconds? Longer?"

"Oh probably not that long. Just a flash. But I had a weird feeling about seeing that light. So I went out on my patio where my kiln is. I stumbled over Puffnstuff, one of my cats, just a dear sweet thing," she explained as she acted out her movements. "I stood outside for a few minutes, waiting and staring at the area where we're standing right now..." Skylark stopped abruptly as she adjusted her feather earrings. The men waited eagerly for her next thought.

"But I didn't see the light again. It went away," she said dramatically with a flourish of the hand.

"So you didn't see anything else then, ma'am," Joel said.

"No I didn't... see anything else," she said.

"Did you hear anything?" Joel asked picking up the cue.

"I heard a familiar noise. I've heard it up here before." She focused back on the two detectives. "It was a kind of woooosssh."

She pierced her lips putting her teeth together as she made the sound. "Woooooshhhh. Like that!" she said sucking in the air and then letting it out.

"Maybe a breeze or a gust of wind," Tony said.

Skylark threw her hands up. "Oh no! It wasn't the wind. I know the normal breezes that come through these canyons, but this wasn't one of those. This was from a different realm." She took a deep breath. "Woooosssshhhhh..."

"Could it have been something falling or an animal in the brush?" Tony was not giving in to this craziness.

"No!" she said dismissing the thought. "I'm quite in tune with the sounds up here. My eyes aren't as good as they used to be, but my ears can hear it all. I can tell the sound of a coyote from that of a rabbit. It wasn't an animal and it wasn't the wind. No, no, no! It wasn't a sound of nature. It was an unnatural suction sound and it echoed right up to my house."

"But you said it was a familiar sound...." Joel said.

Skylark's voice suddenly lowered an octave. "If I were to tell you, you wouldn't believe me. No one ever does."

"Try me," Joel said. He had interviewed all sorts of people in his career and he knew that even the most eccentric could be very helpful.

"The last time I heard that noise, it was over twenty years ago," she said.

"And you remember it?" Tony asked in disbelief.

Skylark kept her gaze on Joel. "It was the weekend a little boy fell off the Cliff. It was the same sound. I will never forget it. It doesn't sound like anything else I've ever heard. I remember it well and it shakes me to my core when I hear it." She put her arms around herself as if she were cold.

"How many times have you heard it?"

"This is the fourth time. It always starts up when there is a tragedy up here," she said. "Tell me. I saw the ambulance. Did someone die off the Cliff last night?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Tears filled Skylark's eyes. "I knew it...." she said. "I could feel it."

"Did that sound last for a long time, ma'am?" Tony asked.

It was too late. Her train of thought had been broken. "Who was that unfortunate soul who came to an end up here?"

"We can't tell you the name of the person, ma'am," Joel said.

Skylark's eyes darted from side to side. "The Cliff has waited a long time for this," she said. Joel and Tony looked at each other.

Skylark looked away as she said, "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

"Detective Serrano!" The coroner's voice rang out. It was time to take the body away to the morgue. Tony needed to sign off on it.

"Excuse me," Tony said. He rolled his eyes at Joel as he left.

Joel looked back at Skylark who was now gazing dreamily into the distance. "In answer to your question, no, I think you really heard that noise."

Skylark relaxed once again.

"Skylark, do you have any neighbors that can see the Cliff or maybe hear the echo of the noise that you described," he asked.

"Not really," she said. She pointed once again across the ravine. "My house has the clearest view."

Joel shook his head. "I bet you hate the fact that they're developing this area. It could take away from your fantastic view."

"As I told you, it's a big mistake. I feel sorry for anyone who buys on this side," Skylark said. "Big mistake."

"Do you live alone, ma'am?"

"Oh no. I have 6 cats and 13 birds. All parakeets."

Joel reached into his pocket and brought out a small pocket recorder. "Listen, Skylark. Would you make that sound into my recorder here? That wooosh sound."

She smiled. "Yes, I would like to do that."

She straightened her body to prepare. Joel pushed the start button and motioned for her to begin.

"Wooooossshhhhhhhhhh!" She gave it her all.

As she wound down, Joel nodded his approval and then clicked the off switch. "So you're telling me that you heard this same wooosh sound 20 years ago when someone else died up here?"

"Yes, I am telling you that." She was sure of herself. "I've heard it four times now and each time it's the same thing. I should have known last night, but it had been so long since I last encountered that sound..." she said. "I wish I had called the police, but they probably wouldn't have paid any attention. I know that."

"Ma'am, I've written all this down. Anything that is heard or seen is very important. No matter how small. Nothing is insignificant. You've been a great help. Thank you very much." Joel put his recorder in his pocket and pulled out one of his cards. "If you can think of anything else, here's my phone number."

"Thank you, Detective. Thank you for listening to me," she said finally feeling appreciated. "I'm not crazy. Really!"

Joel smiled. He wasn't sure. "If you hear any more wooossh's, you call me right away at that number, okay?"

She beamed from ear to ear. "I will for sure. And Detective...."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Be careful. You're no match for the powers up here. None of us are," she said.

He had no answer.

"Come down to the Farmer's Market on Sunday and I'll give you a free pot fresh from my kiln," she yelled as he turned away.

Joel held up his thumb in approval and walked back to Tony who was just finishing up with the coroner.

"So what do you think of her? Any value?" Tony asked.

"I'm not sure," Joel said.

"I was waiting for her to tell us that she had seen a UFO! These burnt-out hippies can be more of a distraction than a help."

"I wouldn't dismiss her totally," Joel said. He didn't particularly like his partner's cynicism.

"Joel, let me tell you right now. We're going to run into this kind of thinking with this case. The Cliff's reputation is legendary in this town. Many people are eager to believe something supernatural goes on up here."

"I'm beginning to see that," Joel said.

"But we've got to stick with the concrete evidence. And legitimate observations," Tony said.

Joel nodded. "But regardless, I know I want a little history lesson about this Cliff. My son Trevor has been doing searches on it on the internet. He's told me a few things he read, but I wasn't paying that much attention. I should've been." Joel chuckled as he thought about his growing relationship with his stepson.

"Kids! They love that kind of stuff," Tony said.

"Oh, shoot! That reminds me...Trevor's still in the car. I forgot," Joel said.

"Are you sure?" Tony said looking over Joel's shoulder.

Joel turned around. He could see a lone figure way over on the back side of the Cliff.

"What does he think he's doing?!" Joel said as he raced towards the other end of the Cliff. "Trevor, get back here! What in the blazes!"

Trevor was standing inches from the Cliff's edge and staring straight ahead into the horizon. He didn't even look up as Joel called out to him.

"Trevor, I told you to stay in the car!" Joel yelled as he reached out for him. He shook him out of his trance-like gaze and brought him back from the edge. "Why did you come over here?"

Trevor looked up at Joel. He started to shake. "I'm not sure. I don't remember..." He closed his eyes and put his hands in his hair as if he had a headache.

"Trevor, we will talk about this when we get home. But you disobeyed me on something that was very important. We're going to have to have an understanding!" Joel pulled him further away from the edge.

Trevor was unfazed by the rebuke. He broke from his father's hold and pointed where he had just stood. "This is where she went over, Dad," he said in a calm voice. "I know it. This is the launching pad."

Joel looked down at his stepson incredulously. What was it about this Cliff that made everyone daft?

### CHAPTER 21

### RANDY & DIANE'S FIRST DATE

As the sun sank lower in the sky over Kingsbury, the Cliff's smile looked a little wider and happier than usual. Randy paid no attention to it as he drove over to the Wellington mansion to pick Diane up for their dinner date. The Cliff was no longer oppressing him and the thought of spending the evening with Diane was the only thing on his mind.

He arrived right on time. Exactly 6 pm. Diane was all ready to go and after a short visit with Mr. Wellington, the couple headed out to his car. They were both looking forward to the evening.

"I've got to say my uncle really loves you," Diane said. She fastened her seatbelt and settled into the lush bucket seat of Randy's Lexus.

"I'm glad I reconnected with him. He was very special to me during my childhood," Randy said. "Growing up without my dad was easier because of your uncle, I think."

Randy looked over at Diane. She looked smashing this evening in a light lime top and matching slacks. Her outfit matched her sparkling green eyes. Her face was so beautiful he thought. The approaching sunset seemed to put a halo around her head.

"Okay, Diane, where do you want to go for dinner?" Randy asked as he turned the key in the ignition.

"You mean, it's my choice?"

"It certainly is." He threw his arm over the headrest of Diane's seat waiting for her reply.

"Well, I don't really know that many places in town. Let's see..." Diane said trying to think of anything after being put on the spot.

"I admit Kingsbury is no match for the elegant restaurants you have down in Palm Springs. I'm sure they're far more upscale than the little diners around here!" Randy said smiling with mock disdain.

"Everyone assumes I like those places. I'm actually tired of all the frou-frou restaurants down there. I go to them quite a bit for business purposes. But they don't impress me. For some reason the down home places appeal to me," she said.

"Oh, you like the karaoke bars, huh?" Randy teased as he revved the engine.

Diane laughed. "I wouldn't go that far. But they probably could be fun too."

"Well, you've come to the right town!" Randy said. "The last thing I would call Kingsbury is upscale." He threw the car into gear and they were off.

"You know what?" Diane said with a sudden burst of enthusiasm. "There's a place I pass all the time. And Katy mentioned it the other day and said that she goes there sometimes. I think I can find it. Head downtown."

"Anything you say, my dear..." said Randy."Just show me the way." He had not felt this good in years. The sense of euphoria he was enjoying had put everything out of his mind, even the previous night which was now a distant memory.

"I'm curious...how does this town compare to all the different places you've been around the world?" Randy asked, knowing Diane was an extensive traveler.

"Oh, I think Kingsbury is beautiful."

"And unexciting?"

"No, I find it enchanting. It definitely has a charm about it. And the people here are extremely nice. I'm not like my parents were. You'll find I don't like traveling all the time."

"I'm going to find that out, am I?" Randy smiled at her.

"Maybe so." She gave him a warm smile back.

"I'd like to find out as much as I can about you," Randy said. She intrigued him. She wasn't pushy like so many women he had dated. For once he was doing the pushing.

"You're very sweet. But there's really not much to find out. I live very peacefully at my ranch in Palm Springs. I told you enough about me already during all our phone conversations. Plus a woman has to keep a little bit of mystery, don't you think?" she reasoned.

"Oh, so you're keeping something from me, are you?" Randy teased.

"Perhaps," she said with a coy look on her face. She could play along with this. "Well, how about you Randy? Have you told me everything about yourself? Do you have any deep, dark secrets that I should know about?"

Randy almost choked. "Secrets? Well...I...don't..." He was unable to finish the sentence and instead followed it up with a nervous laugh. "Touché!" he finally blurted out, inwardly kicking himself for even bringing the subject up.

"See what I mean..." she said."Anyway, isn't it just nicer to learn about someone as you go along?" She looked ahead at the upcoming intersection. "I think turn left here, Randy."

He made the sharp turn onto Gateway Avenue.

"So what do you think of Kingsbury now that you've settled into it? Are you still happy to be back?" Diane asked.

"I haven't decided yet. But I'm really glad you returned around the same time I did. Coincidence or fate?"

"You're here permanently. I'm only here temporarily to help Uncle Julius, remember?" Diane explained. "I have my art business in Palm Springs."

"Sell your art up here. You know your uncle would love to have you stay permanently. I would too," Randy said. He looked over for her reaction.

But her attention had shifted to being the navigator again. . "Slow down! Here it is!" Diane hastily pointed to the right. "Turn, turn!"

Randy made a quick turn nearly missing the entrance to the restaurant parking. She was proud of herself for being able to guide them to the right spot...The Diamond Bar and Grill.

Randy pulled into the parking lot. "Oh, no," Randy said once he realized where he was. "Not this place!" A queasy sensation stirred in his stomach.

"Have you eaten here before?" Diane asked.

"No, not exactly," Randy said.

"Oh well, if you want to go somewhere else, that's fine. It doesn't matter to me, really," Diane said picking up on his hesitation.

A parking place was opening up right in front as they approached. Randy stopped to allow the other car to pull out. Randy and Diane looked at each other.

Randy smiled. "I think it was meant to be!"

Diane laughed. "It looks like it, doesn't it? But really if you want to go somewhere else, it's perfectly fine with me."

He parked the car right in front. "No. I said you pick the place and this is it." He was unable to disguise a slight gulp.

The place was bustling with activity on a Saturday night. Randy immediately noticed how bright the restaurant was when they entered. It had seemed so much darker last night – what little he could remember of it.

"It looks like we needed to make a reservation," Diane said.

They maneuvered up to the host stand, jostling themselves through the small crowd who already stood waiting for their names to be called. A pretty young blonde hostess rounded the corner. It was obvious from her deer-in-the-headlights expression that she was swamped.

"Juan! Get table 4 and table 9 bussed already!" she yelled.

"How long before we can get a table for two?" Randy asked trying to turn on the charm. It didn't work. She looked down at her list. "About twenty minutes, maybe thirty. Let me have your name," she said suddenly acquiring a high-pitched little girl's voice.

"Belmont," Randy said. "For two."

She lifted up her reservation book searching for her pencil. Her high pinned-up hair was coming undone and some of the locks hung seductively in her face.

Randy couldn't resist. He reached into her hair and pulled out a pencil. "Are you looking for this?"

"That's where they go!" she said letting out a relieved snort. "No telling how many more are up in there!" She wrote Belmont (2) under a long list of other names. "Now you can go in the bar and we'll call you as soon as we can."

She looked back out into the restaurant and grabbed her menus. "Juan!' she cried once again to her overworked busboy. Randy and Diane watched her as she disappeared into the dining area. Her tight skirt and tall stiletto heels would only allow for very small steps.

"This is about as down home as you can get!" Randy said. They backed up towards the door trying to distance themselves from the crowd.

"Randy, do you want to get out of here?" Diane asked stifling a laugh.

"No, we're in it this far." He was as amused as she was.

"Well, should we just go into the bar and wait," she asked.

Randy peeked over into the bar area and recognized the bartender, triggering a recollection of last night's events.

"Just a second, Diane."

He maneuvered back over to the host stand once again. He reached in his back pocket for his wallet and pulled out a 20 dollar bill and waited. "Excuse me, I was just wondering...are you sure there's nothing available now?" he asked exposing the twenty to the hostess as discreetly as he could.

She looked down at the bill...and then glanced around the restaurant. "Just a minute," she said. "Uh, let me check...Juan!"

She scampered over to the busy busboy and pointed in the direction of the far windows.

"I don't mind going in the bar for a drink, Randy," Diane said edging her way up to join him at the stand.

"Let's see what she can come up with." Randy was used to throwing his money around and the last thing he wanted to do was to go anywhere near the bartender.

Diane stood patiently, taking in all the Diamond's idiosyncrasies. Flighty hostess or not, the place had a nice ambiance -- a wonderful retro feel about it. Old black and white photos of Kingsbury hung on the wood paneling which lined every wall. Overstuffed booths populated the back area. On each table was a red tablecloth and matching red candle. There was nothing like it in Palm Springs. Maybe that's why she liked it.

Meanwhile Randy waited impatiently tapping his fingers on the host stand as he shifted his weight back and forth deliberately not facing the bar.

Eventually the hostess popped back into the entryway with a big smile on her face. "A nice table opened up right over here by the window," she whispered looking down at Randy's hand. "We're all ready for you."

Randy slipped the 20 dollars in her hand and they were whisked away before any of the other waiting hungry diners took notice. They followed their flouncing hostess to a cozy table in the corner by a window.

It overlooked a beautiful view of a deep green meadow flanked by neighboring rolling hills. Flowers were blossoming intermittently throughout. The hills gradually rose up to join the chain of low mountains that overlooked the town. Spirits Cliff even peeked through ever so slightly in the background. Randy pulled the chair out for Diane.

"This is absolutely stunning!" Diane said overwhelmed at the scenery out the window. "Now here's another reason why I love Kingsbury. You don't see anything like this in Palm Springs. I would love to describe this scene to some of my artists."

Randy smiled as he listened to her gush. He slipped around to the side of the table. But once he sat down himself, he realized that he was facing the bar.

"Best table in the house," Diane said finally taking her eyes off the view and focusing in on Randy.

Randy sat with his back arched. "Yes, I guess so." He flinched noticing the bartender glance out into the restaurant. He wondered if he would be recognized.

Diane turned to face the bar. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

"No, nothing's wrong at all," Randy said unconvincingly. "I just thought I saw somebody that I knew over there."

Their waitress had also noticed Randy's interest in the bar as she approached their table. "Hello, I'm Bonnie," she said now standing in front of them with a big smile. "Would you like to order a drink from the bar?"

They most certainly did. Diane ordered a white wine and Randy ordered his regular, V.O. & 7.

"I can't wait to find out what kind of food they have here," Diane said as she opened her menu.

Randy opened his menu too without looking down. Instead his eyes followed Bonnie as she disappeared behind a partition and then shortly reappeared at the waitress's service area of the bar. The familiar bartender poured Diane's wine and then grabbed the V.O. As he poured the V.O. & splashed in the 7, he looked up catching Randy staring right at him from the other room. The bartender raised his eyebrows and nodded. Randy's response was a flinch. How dumb could he be to order the exact same drink as he was guzzling last night. Now the bartender had certainly recognized him.

As he started to obsess, that familiar angst set in. He could feel it raging up uncontrollably and passing through his body. But then remarkably back out. Randy was stunned at the quickly travelling sensation which happened so violently that his body jerked and twitched. He leaned back in his seat wondering what had just happened. A surge of calmness swept over him like an ocean wave. He suddenly felt light – worry had vanished.

Luckily Diane had been studying the menu and had not noticed his peculiar body gyrations. Randy gazed at her as he sank complacently in his chair. Was it Diane's company or the aftereffects of last night on the Cliff, he wondered. Whatever it was, he felt on top of the world.

"What are you smiling about?" Diane asked finally looking up from her menu.

"I'm just happy."

"Here's your drinks," the waitress said interrupting their moment.

"Thank you. Shall we order an appetizer?" Randy asked. "Fried calamari, maybe? I love that..."

Diane nodded her approval.

"We'll have the calamari for now. And order our dinners in a bit." Randy looked up at the still-grinning waitress. Bonnie had gotten very good at profiling her customers. She smelled a big tip from this table.

Randy held up his drink in a toast and shifted all attention to Diane. "Here's to our journey to a wonderful friendship and relationship between the two of us."

"That's beautiful," Diane said as she clinked her glass on his. "To you and me!"

He looked back at Diane. "You've got my undivided attention."

The supposed pretext of their date was to talk about her uncle, but both knew that it was just that – a pretext. Now that they were looking in each other's eyes, they could feel a more intimate connection than their phone conversations had provided.

"Tell me about what your life is like down there in Palm Springs?" Randy wanted to know everything about her.

Diane set her wine glass down on the table and leaned back. "Well... my life revolves around my gallery. It seems like every waking moment is dominated by it." She laughed. "Even some of my sleeping moments!"

"Is that by choice?" Randy said looking into her eyes.

"The sleeping moments, no!" she said shaking her head. "But the waking moments...oh, I think so. I enjoy it so much. I 'm able to display the paintings of many of the local artists there. They really are a talented group. And if I can sell some of their work, then I feel like I've done what I'm supposed to do. And we all make a nice profit, hopefully! Of course sometimes it doesn't work out that way, but that's all right too."

Randy was taken with her enthusiasm. "So you help all the young undiscovered artists get discovered!"

"Well, I like to think so. But they aren't all young. In fact quite a few of them are far into their years. Palm Springs has many older people who've retired there," she said. "They experiment with things that they didn't have time to do when they were younger. And some discover a talent in painting. It's a wonderful expression."

"How about you? Are you an artist too?' Randy asked.

Diane thought for a moment. "I think I have the talent to picture something in my mind. But I can't paint or draw a thing," she said glancing back out the window. "Any supposed talent doesn't extend to my hands!"

Randy looked down and noticed how well-manicured her hands were. They were pearl white and she had two rings on, both with small green stones which matched her outfit. Obviously she not only had a taste for art, but had good taste in what she wore.

"Calamari?" Juan asked. The busboy stood before them with the plate in his hands.

Randy and Diane picked up their glasses and watched as Juan set the plate down in front of them. Diane reached for her napkin and unfolded it delicately into her lap. "You first!" Randy said watching her.

She paused and picked up a piece from the top of the heaping mound. Diane dipped it in the red sauce and put it in her mouth. Then Randy did the same. Calamari never tasted so good for either of them.

"You know after I came into that money, I bought a lot of art," Randy said finally revealing a bit about himself. "I had an interior decorator do my house in Monterey. I have most of it hanging in my house here now. I'd love for you come over and explain it to me." He chuckled hoping she wouldn't think that it was a fast come-on.

"One of these days, I will do that," she said ignoring any implication. "But art is all in the mind of the beholder. The important thing is if you resonate with it. What is considered a masterpiece to some is an eyesore to another. It's very subjective."

"To tell you the truth, I don't know whether I like it or not. It just takes up wall space to me. I guess I'm not very artistic," Randy said. He looked down as if he were ashamed and took another sip of his drink. "I admire that you can look out a window like this and visualize a painting."

Diane smiled. She enjoyed being complimented.

"Look out the window again and tell me what you see." He wanted to hear her talk. The sound of her voice resonated with him far more than his art paintings at home he thought.

"Well, let's see, all the green in the forefront of this little meadow strikes me first. It's a very dark shade, almost blue if you keep staring at it. The way the grass is cut, you can imagine it being an expensive carpet. Then notice the varying slopes the land takes as it transitions into the hills. The vegetation changes not only in color but in their form. Then of course the flowers add, well, several colors to the middle of the picture. Then it evolves again into a more non-descript landscape which would, I believe, involve broader strokes by the artist as he interprets how he perceives the plants towards the top of the hill. And then the backdrop of the mountainside with that Cliff looking over all of it -- like it's dictating life below."

Randy listened to her voice and watched her motions as she interpreted the scene she saw. He could feel himself falling under her spell. At least, he was hoping it was her spell, and not the Cliff's. He sneaked a side glance out the window and saw its rocky face staring at him.

"Listen, I know I get boring talking all this artist talk," Diane said realizing she had gone on rather long in her explanation. "Let's change the subject."

Randy couldn't help but think how in tune she was, especially hitting the nail on the head about the Cliff. "No, tell me more."

Diane viewed the scene once again. "That's it, it's just breathtaking. But you know, anything can make a good painting. Art is how form, color, content all come together to make a unique piece. Needless to say, I can appreciate it."

Randy took the last sip of his drink. He motioned the waitress for another round. "I hope those artists down there know how lucky they are to have you representing them."

"I channel all my energy into my job. Diane said. "As a doctor, you do too." She was hoping to veer the subject off herself and onto him.

"Maybe. But for some reason I don't know if I channel my energy or if energy is just being channeled through me," he said as he thought back at the violent reaction he had when he had first sat down – something had certainly gone through him.

Diane cocked her head at his comment. "That's a very metaphysical thing to say. God's energy is channeled through us. I believe that."

Randy smiled weakly. He took another quick peek out the window at the Cliff. Unfortunately he wasn't sure if God was the energy he meant.

Juan made another appearance to fill up their water glasses and remove the empty plate of calamari. Randy and Diane both leaned back and pretended not to stare at each other. Time passed quickly as they drank and talked about anything and everything – exploring their similarities and their differences.

"Well, should we think about ordering?" Randy asked after a while.

"Yes. I suppose we should. They probably don't want us to just sit at this table all night without ordering dinner!" Diane reopened her menu. "I know exactly what I want. The Chicken Marsala. It looks delicious."

Once Bonnie returned with another round of drinks, they placed their orders. Neither felt rushed despite the clamor around them. Their table with a view was their private oasis in the hubbub.

"I know that Palm Springs must have tons of nightspots. What's the social life like down there?" Randy asked.

"Well, there are quite a few clubs and things there. But when I go out, it's mainly with clients and artists, mostly on a business level. So I don't frequent the trendy spots where there's a lot of noise. I need it a little more quiet so I can hear."

"You never go out for just fun. No business involved?"

"Not really." Diane blushed at the lack of a personal life. "We have a lot of functions at the Gallery and that kind of substitutes for it. I've never been one to go out on dates much."

"I'm honored that I'm the exception," Randy said.

"Oh, I didn't mean that!" Diane said blushing once again. "Now that I'm thinking about it, I guess I do lead kind of a solitary life in that respect."

"Diane, I'd have thought guys would be clamoring..."

"And I would have thought the same about you!' Diane interjected.

"Well, I don't know if any guys are clamoring for me..." Randy said hoping to make her laugh which she did. "But the women who live in Kingsbury, well, let's just say...I'm glad you came into town."

"Well, thank you," Diane said. "I wish it would have been under better circumstances."

"Just coming up here and trying to lend a hand to your uncle shows me what kind of person you are."

Diane shrugged. "Well, that was a no-brainer. I love Uncle Julius. He was there for me when I was younger. My parents travelled so much and I didn't have any brothers or sisters. Uncle Julius and Aunt Lenore didn't have any kids so I had no cousins. I was kind of on my own in the care of nannies."

"I can tell you two are close."

"Right up to this day, Uncle Julius has given me a sense of some sort of family. I've never been married," she said, not knowing why in the world she would offer that information at this point. But she felt comfortable tonight. "I came close once when I was just 21, but good sense got hold of me and I backed out." She looked at him wondering what he thought.

It did make him wonder. Maybe her obvious artistic sensitivity was somehow the reason she never married or might be adverse to a close relationship. Obviously her resounding interest in her work kept her occupied and distracted, but he wondered if it kept her satisfied. He decided not to tell her how he could relate to her non-involvement type of life. He'd been living the same way for all of his.

They suddenly heard the shrill voice of the hostess. She was leading people to the table right next to theirs. ""I think we picked the in-spot tonight, didn't we?" Diane remarked. "I had no idea this place would be so busy!"

Randy nodded. From his seat he could see the front door and it had been opening and closing constantly since they had sat down. People had been arriving non-stop... including one person he happened to know, who was just coming through the door. His presence caused Randy's body to tense up just like it had before. Diane recognized the shift in Randy's demeanor immediately. He shifted his chair to the right so that Diane could block him from the man he did not want to see. Joel and his partner Tony now stood in the entryway scoping out the room.

### CHAPTER 22

### THE INQUISITION

Joel and Tony flashed their badges to the hostess and were immediately escorted into the bar area. Randy blinked wildly as he watched them approach the bartender. Joel reached in his pocket and pulled out a picture. The bartender took a very short look and nodded.

"Yes, that's her," he said. "She was here last night."

"Was she with anybody?" Joel asked.

"She was with everybody," he smirked. "But she came in alone and as far as I remember she left alone. You know, she talked to a lot of the guys who were at the bar. You know, they bought her drinks."

"How long was she here, do you think?" Joel asked.

The bartender thought. "I don't know. A few hours probably."

"Do you remember about what time she left?"

"I would say about 10 or so," he turned away and shuffled some glasses onto the back shelf.

The two cops nodded and casually looked around the room.

"How many drinks did she have?" Tony asked.

"I don't know. I don't serve drunks -- if that's what you're trying to get at. If you want to talk to the manager, his name is Robert and he's over in the restaurant somewhere." The surprise interrogation obviously made him nervous.

"Listen, we're not gonna run you in. And just so you know there's going to be a toxicology report on her anyway," Tony said trying for a little intimidation.

The bartender didn't like that. "A lot of customers drink after they leave a bar, you know. So any report doesn't prove where she drank it."

"Like he said...we're not after you. We just want some information..." Joel said deciding to play good cop to Tony's bad cop. He knew darn well that bartenders tread carefully in situations like this. "We just want to try to find out her state of mind. She probably was a little tipsy when she left here. What do you think?"

"She'd had a few drinks," he said noncommittally.

Meanwhile a group of three waitresses had congregated at the service bar area. "Jerry, come on!" One of them called out to him. "We got a lot of drink orders here!"

"Excuse me. This is my busiest time," the bartender said gladly having an excuse to leave.

Joel and Tony perused the room while they waited for the bartender to finish.

"I doubt if they have any cameras in here. But I noticed they have a camera in the parking lot so we'll have to see what they've got on it from last night. Maybe get lucky and see if she met someone outside," Joel said. They had just come from interviewing Ginny's roommate, who had informed them that she came to the Diamond almost every weekend, and would usually walk home alone – or occasionally bring home someone she had met. And she would come home drunk. But last night she had never come back at all. The street where she had lived was only three blocks from the bar. Evidently, it had been a safe walk up until last night.

After a few minutes the bartender returned. "Anything else?"

"Just one more question and then we'll leave you alone for tonight. Are you familiar with any of these guys who bought her drinks? Maybe they were friends of hers?" Joel asked.

"Well, she was pretty friendly with everyone, if you know what I mean. It was mainly just the regulars that she talked with though. Those two were here last night," he said indicating two older men who were sitting at the other end of the bar.

"And that guy right over there." He pointed out into the restaurant. Joel and Tony both turned around to look. It was the closest Joel had ever come to falling off a stool.

"That's my brother-in-law," he said. Both Tony and the bartender noticed his shocked expression. "Randy was here last night with Ginny?"

"She was bugging him a bit. He wasn't real happy to have her around," the bartender continued, hoping this would finally get them off his back. "I got the impression that they knew each other. But I remember he left way before she did."

"He knew Ginny for sure," Joel whispered to his partner. "Follow up in here, would you Tony? Talk to those two guys at the end of the bar she was with last night. I want to go talk to Randy."

Joel walked out of the bar area, through the entryway, and into the dining area. Randy saw him coming and promptly stood up, acting surprised to see him.

"Joel! What a coincidence running into you here. Is Jan with you?" Randy asked pretending to look around.

"No, I'm here on police business," Joel said.

Randy paused. That's what he was afraid of. He could feel his shoulders tighten as he remained on his feet.

"Oh, I don't think you've met Diane Hendricks," Randy said trying to get Joel's eyeballs off him. "Diane, this is my brother-in-law, Joel Adams."

Joel extended his hand. "Hello, I'm glad to meet you."

"Diane is in town visiting with her uncle. We were just about to have dinner. I think it's going to be here in a minute." said Randy. He hoped Joel would take the hint to leave.

"I don't want to bother you. I just wondered if I could ask you a couple of quick questions before your food arrives. Can I sit down?" Joel asked as he pulled over an empty chair from the next table.

"Sure," said Randy as he shook his head no.

Joel took the audio cue instead and placed the chair backwards to their table. He brought one leg over to straddle it.

"I don't mean to intrude," he said to Diane. "I'm here investigating Ginny Stewart's death. I'm a detective."

"I heard about what happened. That was horrible," Diane said.

"Well, it's especially hard for me. My wife was a friend of hers and I mean we all knew her. It's a small town. So this kind of thing affects a lot of us." Joel turned his attention back to Randy. "I understand you ran into her here last night."

Diane's eyes widened with surprise.

Randy realized immediately that the bartender had been blabbing. "Oh yeah, yeah. Very briefly." He flashed over a guilty look at Diane. "I came in for a drink and had the unfortunate luck to run into her." He turned back to Joel. "I had a couple drinks and left. She was still here having the time of her life."

"Did you see her with anybody in particular?" Joel asked.

"I saw her hanging around with a bunch of guys," Randy said. "She came up to me, but to tell you the truth, I brushed her off. I can't deal with drunks."

"She was drunk?"

"She sure seemed like it to me," Randy said taking a big gulp of his V.O.

"Interesting," Joel said. "What was her mood?"

"You know her, Joel! She's always in everybody's face! She was the same last night, but even more so!"

Joel didn't share the same opinion about Ginny, especially since Jan liked her.

"She was drunk and trying to get whoever she could to take her home," Randy continued.

"About what time were you here last night?" Joel asked taking out his pad.

"I got here around 7:30 or so. And I stayed a half hour or maybe an hour," Randy said deliberately underestimating his time. "I got home early." He watched as Joel started to write.

"What was Ginny doing when you left?"

"I don't know, Joel. I wasn't keeping tabs on her!" Randy could feel his agitation starting to grow.

Diane was becoming very curious herself. "Oh, so you think she might have met someone here and they drove up to Spirits Cliff?" she asked.

Randy looked across the table at her. That guess was uncannily accurate. He could feel his eye starting to twitch wildly. He shook his head hoping that it would stop the nervous tic.

"Could be, "Joel said. The parking lot has a security camera so we'll check out the tape."

The thought of a camera outside made Randy even more uncomfortable...but then he remembered that he had not even pulled into the parking lot last night. He had missed the entrance because the Cliff had distracted him. Now he knew why. The Cliff was always looking out for him. There was nothing to worry about. The wave of calm again cascaded over him.

Just as Joel was set to ask another question, the waitress arrived with their dinners.

"Ah, dinner is here!" Randy said with even more relief.

Joel slid his chair back. He knew the questioning was over...for now.

"Listen, Randy, can we talk tomorrow about this?"

"I don't really know anything else, Joel. I saw her for a few minutes and that was all. I didn't pay any attention to her. When I left she was still very alive and still in the bar! Okay?" Randy said. He had had enough of Joel's inquisition.

"I'm sorry. I know you're upset about it. You knew her. Jan is very upset about this too. I feel really bad about it myself," Joel continued. "I just want to talk with you tomorrow to cover all the bases."

At this point Randy would agree to anything if he would just go away. "Sure, we can talk," he said. "But I doubt if I can help any."

"Thanks, Randy. Sorry to have interrupted your evening. Hope to see you again, Miss Hendricks," Joel said smiling at her. "Good-bye Randy."

Randy barely acknowledged his good-bye, but watched him go back into the bar.

"So you have a brother-in-law who's a detective," Diane said putting her napkin back in her lap.

Randy's gaze shifted over to her. "Yeah. We have a Sherlock Holmes in the family," he said.

Diane picked up her fork, but paused as she watched Randy shift around in his seat. "Is that why you didn't want to come in here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean you were here last night. And you saw Ginny. From what you said it wasn't a very good memory, especially considering what happened afterwards," she said.

Randy leaned back in his chair. "Okay, you're right. At first I didn't want to come in here. I didn't want to be reminded of Ginny."

"I wish I hadn't suggested this place," she said.

Randy reached over the table and touched her hand. "You didn't know and it doesn't matter anyway." He smiled at her. "Plus I just thought if tacky people like Ginny Stewart come here, I certainly didn't want to bring someone like you."

Diane smiled. "Randy, I just want to say I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about." He looked away and then uncovered the rolls that Juan had brought over. "Let's not talk about Ginny anymore," he said. "We have all this wonderful food here now."

Diane picked up on his cue immediately. "Yes, I agree," she said. Her eyes focused down at the chicken marsala in front of her. "This looks delicious."

"Yes, it does," Randy said. "How about another glass of wine?"

"Absolutely," she said.

Randy called the waitress over for another drink order.

They both made a conscious effort to steer their conversation as far from Ginny's death as possible. But Diane noticed that Randy was noticeably quieter as they ate their dinner.... until he saw Joel and Tony finally go out the front door. The same relaxation rush that he had felt earlier flowed through his body. Even though Diane couldn't see the front door, she sensed that they had left. The conversation lightened up immediately throughout the rest of the meal.

"Want some coffee, Diane?" Randy asked as the waitress cleared their plates.

"Yes, please," she said. Finally, the harsh reality of Ginny's death was fading away. One of the top buttons had come undone on Randy's shirt as he leaned back in his chair.

"Randy, that's an interesting pendant you have on," Diane said noticing it for the first time. "What kind of stone is that?"

Randy looked down and lifted it slightly off his chest. "You know I'm not even sure."

Diane reached over to touch it, tilting it to the light to catch its nuances. "It's such a deep red. It's an arrowhead, isn't it?"

"You like it?" asked Randy feeling especially happy that she would feel it.

"It goes very well with your skin color," she said as she released it from her hand.

He wasn't sure what she thought by her noncommittal remark, but it sure felt good around his neck. He enjoyed wearing it again.

"This has been wonderful tonight, Diane. Thank you," Randy said. He was feeling very content again.

"You're welcome. I'm so glad we did this." Diane sipped at her coffee, very aware of Randy's eyes staring at her. "It's lovely to get out of Uncle Julius' house for awhile. And your company is marvelous."

"Want to walk around the square tonight? See what's going on?" Randy asked.

She looked out their private little window. "I'd love to."

Randy wrapped his arm around Diane's waist as they strolled to the car. She instinctively leaned her head towards his body. They both looked up at the clear sky. The stars were twinkling down at them.

"Okay, we're off to Kingsbury's wild nightlife in the square!" Randy said as he opened the car door for Diane.

Diane smiled as she hopped in and he closed the door. As he made his way around the car he watched her shuffling around – probably struggling with the seat belt he thought.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he got into the driver's seat.

"I got my foot stuck on something," she said. She looked toward the dark floor. "What have you got down here?"

"Nothing. What did you get tangled up in? Your own purse?" Randy said, laughing at her good-naturedly. "Too many glasses of wine, maybe."

She started giggling as she attempted to free her foot. "No, for heaven sake! I feel silly here. My leg is stuck." As she adjusted her body, some sort of strap had wrapped itself around her foot. "I can't see. Can you turn on the light?"

But Randy already had his hands down by the floor. "Here, take off your shoe. Slip that strap around like this..." he said, by now laughing hysterically and touching her foot.

"Wait a minute. Don't pull on it! That hurts! We're right in front of the restaurant. If anybody's watching us they must think we're idiots."

Randy didn't care. He was having fun and knew that Diane was too. They were howling with laughter as Randy pulled her shoe off.

"Turn on the light, Randy. Please!"

Randy turned on the light to reveal the strap which had wrapped itself around Diane's leg. "What in the world?! How did I do that?" she said flushing with embarrassment. "Now you know what a klutz I can be!"

Randy snickered as Diane pushed her leg forward to reveal a purse. "I'm sorry to laugh like this. But this is funny," he said. "You women and your purses."

"Yes, it's funny. Okay!" she said looking at him and trying to free herself from the entanglement. "But this isn't my purse!"

"What do you mean that's not your purse?"

Diane pointed to her own purse on the seat. "My purse is here!"

Randy looked down again. There was Ginny's purse...with its strap still wrapped around Diane's foot.

### CHAPTER 23

### THE DATE IS INTERRUPTED

"Whose purse is it.that I've gotten all tangled up in?" Diane laughed as she finally freed herself.

Randy turned off the car light.

"It's my purse!" he said picking it up and then flinging it into the back seat.

"Your purse? You have a purse?" Diane asked.

"No, I don't mean my purse," Randy said. He was beyond flustered.

Diane stared at him questioningly.

"It's June's purse," he said.

"Who's June?"

"June is my nurse. You know who June is." he said laughing uncomfortably. "I gave her a ride home yesterday and she left her purse in my car."

"She left her purse in your car?"

Randy was not sure he was going to get out of this one, if Diane kept repeating everything he said.

"Yeah. She ...uh ...had a few shopping bags of things. And...we stopped at the store and she forgot her purse when I dropped her off. She called me later. I'm just going to bring it to the office on Monday I guess."

"I'd be lost without my purse all weekend. I don't know how she could forget her purse..." Diane looked at him perplexed. Then her phone went off. "Unknown number," she said looking at her read-out.

"You'd better take it." Randy hoped she would. He'd be eternally thankful to whoever it was.

"Hello?" Diane said into the phone.

She listened for a moment and then handed the phone to Randy. "It's your mother."

"My mother?"

"Yes she says she has to talk to you," Diane said with the phone still in her hand.

"She says she has to talk to me?" Now he was doing it, Randy thought. He was repeating everything Diane said.

"Hello? Mother?" Randy said into Diane's phone.

He heard Mrs. Belmont's anxious voice. "Now don't get mad," she said. "But you must've turned your phone off."

"I did, but I've been checking it." Randy knew he had to do that as a doctor.

"Not in the last hour you haven't!" she said. Randy rolled his eyes as Diane watched his face.

"I didn't know where you two were having dinner so....I called Mr. Wellington and then he gave me Katy and then Katy gave me Diane's cell phone number..."

"Very resourceful, Mother. But what is it that you want? What happened?" Randy listened intently and then realized it was yet another false emergency.

"Okay, I'll just come back for a minute. It'll be fine. I'll find them."

Randy handed Diane's phone back to her.

"She can't find her pills and she can't sleep without them..." Randy said. If it hadn't been such perfect timing, he would have been furious. "Do you mind if we drive over there for a minute and I can find her pills for her?" He started the car. "I can't wait for Rosita to get back!"

"Of course, that's fine," Diane said looking back down at her phone seeing that she had a text message from Katy.

It was a short drive to Randy's home. "Just stay in the car, Diane. This should only take a couple minutes. If I can't find her pills, I'll just shoot her," he joked.

Diane gasped even though she realized he was kidding. "I'll call Katy while you're in there. Her text was a little obscure."

As he strode up his front walk, Randy wondered why he would even make such an outlandish joke. His mother had gotten him out of a tight jam with Ginny's purse showing up. He hoped that Diane wouldn't get curious and look in it while he was tending to Mother.

That was the last thing on Diane's mind. She was reading a new text message from Katy. Two minutes later Randy was coming back out the front door from his mother's big emergency.

"Is she okay?" Diane asked as he got in the car.

"Yes," he said without any further explanation.

"Now we need to go back over to Uncle Julius' house. Katy said that he has a pain in his side and wants you to look into it!" Diane explained.

"What kind of pain?" asked Randy startled, thinking that perhaps an ambulance should be called.

"She didn't say exactly but told me to tell you that it's not at all urgent. In fact, she said just for you to come in when we're done with our date and check him out."

"When we're done with our date?" Randy asked. They both broke out laughing.

"I guess we're done with our date!" they both said together in hysterics as their heads inadvertently touched. They looked up at the same time. Their faces had never been so close. Their lips met. It was fifteen seconds that they both savored.

"Okay. Let's get over to your house," Randy said turning the key in the ignition. Diane smiled at him.

When they arrived at the Wellington house, Mr. Wellington was starting to feel better. Randy examined him. He pressed against Wellington's side which now didn't seem to hurt very badly and then did a fast examination.

"So is the pain subsiding, Mr. Wellington?" Randy asked.

"Yes. I'm okay, I'm okay. Katy shouldn't have called you," Mr. Wellington said.

"I didn't call. I sent a text. And I said after the date," Katy said.

"I'm glad we came back," Diane said sitting on her uncle's bed. "We're just glad you're feeling better."

"Listen, if you have any further problem tonight, make sure you just tell Diane. And she can call me. Do you have a bell or something you can ring?" Randy asked.

"I don't need a bell! I've got a phone right here. I'll call you myself. You just write down your phone number. Katy, get some paper!" he bellowed. "We'll put your number right here by my glasses," he said looking down at his empty nightstand. "Katy, where are my glasses?"

"I don't know! Just a minute!" Katy yelled from the other room. "I'm getting your paper."

"Here are your glasses Uncle Julius," Diane said finding them on his bed. She gently placed them on his nightstand.

An exasperated Katy brought a pad of paper back and handed it to Randy.

"Write it down real big now so I can see it!" Mr. Wellington demanded.

"Yes, sir." Randy said as Diane snickered. "Here you go. Now get some rest."

Wellington settled back in his bed as the three of them made their way to the door.

"And Randy," Wellington called as Diane was about to turn out the light. "Thank you."

Randy looked at the old man and nodded. "You're welcome, sir."

They all walked to the living room. Katy immediately felt she needed to defend herself.

"Diane, really. He wanted me to text you. I think he just got worried about himself and wanted to see Randy," she said.

"That's fine, Katy. You know I'm well aware of how Uncle Julius can be," Diane said.

"Did you talk to your mother by the way?" Katy asked turning to Randy. "She called over here all frantic. She was begging for Diane's number. So I gave it to her."

"Yes, Katy, we know all about it." Randy put his hand on Katy's shoulder. He turned to Diane. "Now that Mother has your number, Diane, you might want to think about changing it," he said making Diane giggle.

"Okay. Well, I'm going to be on my way. Unless you two want to resume your date and go back out," Katy said as she headed toward the foyer.

"Just go Katy. We'll be fine," Diane said.

Katy was anxious to leave. Working two jobs was starting to get to her. "Okay, I'll see you both tomorrow!"

They watched her go out the front door.

"If it wasn't for her all these years, I'm not sure how Uncle Julius could have gotten along. It takes a unique person like Katy to deal with my uncle," Diane said.

Randy looked at Diane. "So are we going to resume our date?" trying to quote Katy's exit speech. As they stood, he took Diane in his arms and kissed her again. The old clock in the living room started to sound. They kept their embrace as it rang 12 times. Once the 12th bell sounded they pulled back to gaze into each other's eyes.

"Is this where I turn into a pumpkin?" Diane dead-panned.

"Don't try it. I'll turn you back," he said as he kissed her again.

"Whew! I need to sit down," Diane finally said.

"It's been quite a night," whispered Randy.

"I'm exhausted," Diane said.

"I think that bell means that our date is now officially over," Randy said as he smiled at her. "So what do you think? Why not tomorrow we pick things up... again? How about it? Will you go out with me tomorrow?"

She looked at his face for a moment while he waited for her answer. "I'll be ready at 8," she said.

"8?"

"8 am. It's Sunday. Call me when you get up," she said.

His lip curled up as he tried to suppress a smile. "You think I get up at 8am on Sunday?" Randy said as they walked together towards the front door. They kissed one last time.

Randy opened the door and stepped out. He looked back at her in the doorway. "I'll call you at 7," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

### CHAPTER 24

### A PARTY AND A PROPOSAL

Randy and Diane's whirlwind romance had begun. Everybody approved at first. Mr. Wellington was as pleased about it as the new couple themselves. Both June and Alexis were thrilled because of Randy's sudden turn-around at the office --they loved when the doctor was happy. Even Mrs. Belmont had good words to say about Diane. Randy's mother --like everyone else -- assumed that his suddenly improved state-of-mind was due to the new relationship.

As with the case of Jeremy years earlier, remembrances of Ginny's death were being effectively erased from Randy's mind. He was usually able to ignore any reminders of it except when Joel, who was still working on the case, would bring it up. Then the veil that clouded his mind would be uncomfortably raised.

But everything else in Randy's life, including his new romance, seemed to be falling into place. His practice was so successful that he was now considering hiring an associate. The re-construction of the den had been put on a fast-track by Mike Blodgett and the finished product was actually more spectacular than originally conceived. Even Rosita was back in town after her father's successful operation, and was once again happily ensconced in the Belmont household.

"Hello, ladies," Randy said as he approached the dining table. The huge smile on his face said it all. Rosita had prepared a marvelous breakfast for him on her first day back on the job.

"You're eating in here, right?" Rosita asked.

"Of course he is," Mrs. Belmont said. "It's the only time I ever see him these days!" Mrs. Belmont couldn't resist getting a dig in here and there.

"Mother, don't try to make me feel guilty." Randy kissed her on the top of her head and sat down. His good spirits couldn't be altered, no matter what she said.

"Yes, Rosita. I'm eating inside with Mom." Randy no longer had the desire to gaze at the Cliff as he once did. He didn't need to, since he was wearing a part of it around his neck again.

"Rosita and I were thinking..." Mrs. Belmont said once Randy settled in his chair.

"Uh, oh." Randy looked at the two of them. It hadn't taken them long to cook something up. "What is it?"

"I assume you're seeing Diane again tonight?"

"Yes. Do you object?"

"Oh, of course not," Mrs. Belmont said. She liked to see her son happy. Randy's previous mood swings had alarmed her...and she wished to be the moody one of the family. "Why don't you and Diane have dinner over here this evening? Rosita can fix her famous enchiladas."

"You want to cook for company on your first day back, Rosita?"

"Why not? I was cooking for fifteen people back home almost every day. This would be a piece of candy!"

Mrs. Belmont looked at Rosita. "Piece of cake, dear."

"I will bake a nice cake too," Rosita said.

Randy smiled at Rosita. It was nice to have her back to help keep his mother under control. "All right, Mother. I'll ask Diane. But it'll depend on her uncle... he's not doing too well."

As Randy and Diane's relationship had flourished, Mr. Wellington's health had deteriorated. It seemed like his whole body was wearing out. His kidneys were weak, his blood pressure at times became dangerously low, his joints were deteriorating, and his mind was becoming a little cloudy. Randy prescribed some new medications and was still administering a barrage of tests.

Wellington's mobility was also becoming an issue. Diane had hired a male caregiver for her uncle, to help him bathe and dress as needed. Both Katy and new hire, Javier, were kept on the Wellington payroll thanks to Randy, who was footing the bill.

Actually, both Randy and Diane were contributing money to Wellington. They pitched in to pay for some repairs, just to make the house livable. But there were other financial questions. A line of credit from the bank was not being paid back on time.

Diane had previously presented her uncle with the facts of his finances. It was clear that the major repairs needed for the rundown mansion would be very costly. And illogical. Renovating a decaying old house on a street where it no longer belonged was ill-advised by the bank. They refused to give the loan \-- especially when there were already some overdue bills. The property itself was worth much more with the mansion torn down.

Every time Diane or Randy tried to broach the subject of moving, Wellington would become cranky and suddenly have a pain which would end the discussion. He was starting to feel that Diane and Randy were ganging up on him... trying to force him into something he didn't want to do...like move out.

"Tell Diane to bring the old buzzard over with her tonight," Mrs. Belmont said. She turned to Rosita. "Now, do we need to go to the grocery? Let's invite Jan and Trevor and Joel too." She was shifting into party-planning mode.

"Mother, don't ask them!" Randy called out as the women headed to the kitchen. He wanted to avoid Joel.

Ignoring Randy's objection, Mrs. Belmont continued, "And Rosita, we will also celebrate your coming back to our house. You will sit at the table with us. You fix it and we'll get Katy to come over and serve it." The two women left Randy to eat alone.

He knew it was hard to stop his mother once she was on a roll. But nothing could break his mood—he was on a roll too. He gobbled down his breakfast without thinking.

Before he left, Mrs. Belmont poked her head back in the room "I just called Diane..." Randy hated when she did that.

"She loves the idea!" Mrs. Belmont proclaimed. "She told me to tell you that she and Katy would just come over together. So you don't have to pick her up tonight. She'll ask her uncle if he can come."

Randy wasn't listening. "All right if you guys want to arrange it, then fine."

But he was unpleasantly surprised when he came home that evening and found Jan and Joel sitting in the living room. Diane was there, but Wellington wasn't. Her uncle was not feeling well. She arranged for Javier to look after him.

Randy went upstairs to change his clothes. He slipped a small package into his pocket and then sauntered down the stairs to join the party. He kissed Diane on the cheek, as she was being chatted up by his mother. He turned to Jan and Joel. "Have you seen the den since it was completed?"

"No. I thought you could give us the tour," Joel said.

Diane was helplessly trapped by Mrs. Belmont who was jabbering in her ear as the party moved to the new den. Randy looked back at them.

"Come on, Diane," he said hoping to break her free. The two women got up to follow while Mrs. Belmont continued to gab. Randy wondered what Diane really thought of his mother.

"It came out better than I ever thought," Randy said as everyone traipsed down the hall towards the new den. As he opened the door he was surprised to see that Trevor was already in the room on Randy's computer.

"What are you doing in here?" Randy asked.

"Grandma said I could use your computer," Trevor said looking up. "Your speakers are awesome."

Randy shot him an icy stare. "I would've thought you'd be afraid to come in here by yourself after the last time," Randy said.

Trevor thought for a moment. "No. Mom and Dad said that the building guys have to make sure that it won't fall down this time. Otherwise you're going to sue them."

Joel and Jan looked at each other with embarrassment. "Trevor, turn that music down," Jan said.

Randy's nephew tended to annoy him most of the time. But in his present state, he easily held his composure. Tomorrow, he would just ask Mike Blodgett to put a lock on the door.

After the grand tour of the den, Randy motioned for everyone to sit down. "Nice, huh?"

"If I were you, I'd be in here all the time," Joel said looking around.

"We need a spot in our house like this for you to relax in, honey." Jan put her hand on her husband's shoulder and started to rub it. "He's been so uptight working on Ginny's murder case," she said.

"Murder case? I thought it was just an accident," Mrs. Belmont said.

"No, it's a homicide case," Joel replied. "For her to go up on the Cliff by herself at night is a little implausible. Someone must have been with her. There was no car found. She wouldn't have just wandered up there and fallen off by herself."

"And she wouldn't have committed suicide. I just know that," added Jan.

Joel had become totally frustrated with the investigation into Ginny's death because it was going nowhere...just like all the other investigations that had gone before it involving the Cliff. The videotape of the parking lot from the Diamond Bar offered little help. Ginny was seen leaving the bar alone around 10:30, so a timeline was at least established. But no one came forward to say they had seen her after that.

The working theory was that Ginny had left the bar inebriated and had been picked up by some psycho and they had gone to the Cliff where he had killed her. The toxicology results revealed that Ginny was far above the legal intoxication level, but the autopsy showed that there had been no foul play.

The local and state television news covered the case for awhile. But when no new details emerged, the story became yesterday's headline. The investigation was becoming stagnant and it was on its way to becoming another cold case involving the Cliff.

"I think I've talked to everyone who knew her and saw her that night, but no one saw her after she left the bar," Joel said. "Someone must have picked her up on her way home and drove up there with her. Probably a complete stranger."

"Yes, a complete stranger," Randy repeated. This was the one subject that gave Randy a splitting headache. He needed to avoid it at all costs. Randy welcomed the intrusion of Katy bursting into the room with a tray of hors d'oeuvres. "So this is where the party went!' she said.

"Put them right over there, Katy! Would anyone like a drink?" Randy asked roaming towards his new wet bar.

"I would!" Mrs. Belmont said with an empty glass held up high.

"You shouldn't mix any more with your medications, Mother." He could tell she was probably on her second Xanax of the day.

"Fine," she said getting up and heading for the door. "I'll check on how dinner is going." She would go to the kitchen and have some tequila with Rosita.

"Oh, you're reading about Spirits Cliff, Trevor?" Katy asked as she looked over his shoulder at the computer screen.

"Yeah. I can only find on the internet four killings up there. Jeremy West, John Doe 1, John Doe 2, and Hannah Sanchez. I wonder who the other ones were," he said.

"The news has always said twenty killings," Katy said hovering over him.

"Twenty killings? There've been that many up on that Cliff?" Diane asked in disbelief.

"Yes, that's right," Katy said. "That little boy who we all knew was the one before this last person."

"Katy, you knew him too? What was he like?" Trevor asked. The little boy's death fascinated Trevor more than any of the other ones.

"Well, as I remember he was a real precocious boy," she said sliding a chair over by him. "He was at Mr. Wellington's for this little party we had and he hadn't even told his mother and..."

Randy glared over at the two of them. Was there no getting away from this? "Katy, doesn't Rosita need you in the kitchen?"

"No, she said to stay out of the kitchen and just serve."

"Personally, I hate the Cliff," Jan said. "I wish they would hurry up and tear it down."

"It's taking awhile. They've had so many setbacks up there trying to clear it," Joel said. "And you know a lot of people are blaming it on the Cliff itself."

Joel had started looking into the earlier deaths on the Cliff to see if there was any connection. But the information was sketchy. Since the newspaper records in town only went as far back as 1985, Joel had ordered copies of the microfilm of earlier newspapers from the state office and was still waiting on them. But he felt like he was grasping at straws following that angle.

"Come on, Diane. Let's see what's going on in the kitchen," Jan said while Joel decided to close in on Randy at the bar.

Once Joel started thinking about Ginny's murder case it was hard for him to let go. "Randy, think again, when you left the bar on the night Ginny was killed, did you see anybody...anybody at all out in the parking lot or the alley behind or loitering on the street maybe. You said you left there around seven-thirty right?"

"I didn't see anybody. I really didn't Joel. I left around seven-thirty and came home right after." Randy was tired of the tenth inquisition.

"Seven-thirty? It was a lot later than that, boss," Katy said looking up from the computer which she and Trevor had been staring at.

"What?" Randy couldn't even comprehend what she meant.

"You didn't see me. I was lying on the couch waiting for you to come home. I didn't want to leave your mother by herself. I think it was close to eleven when you came in," Katy explained.

"I do remember going back to the office and getting my computer," Randy said quickly covering for himself. "I think I did stay for a little bit. As I remember I wasn't quite ready to come home and deal with Mother. I figured she'd still be awake. Thank you, Katy, for staying."

Katy laughed at the thought -- a grown man like Randy trying to avoid his mother.

"You know how she can be," he said to Joel. "In fact, I feel sorry for you. She's your mother-in-law. Can you think of any mother-in-law that could rival her?"

Joel thought for a moment. "Maybe Endora."

Even Trevor understood that. He watched Bewitched all the time. He liked everything that had to do with the supernatural...but especially the Cliff.

"Let's see how those enchiladas are doing?" Randy said as he ushered everyone out of the room. He couldn't believe what a big mouth Katy had.

Luckily, dinner went well and without mention of Ginny or the Cliff. When the other guests had finally gone, Diane and Randy strolled out to the patio where the stars shone and the outline of the Cliff overhung in the background. They sat in the cool air for quite awhile talking about how their lives had intertwined.

"I'm going to have to go back to Palm Springs again soon," Diane said. It would be her fourth trip back since she had first come to town to help out her uncle. She looked into Randy's eyes. Her life was becoming very confusing.

She was beginning to think that she herself could never convince her uncle to move. "If Uncle Julius doesn't agree to selling his house, the bank is going to force him to do it," she said. "I can't seem to make him understand. It's inevitable. It's either going to be the bank that forces him out...or his health," she said.

"I'll be getting some more results from your uncle's tests, Diane." Randy was determined to find out the causes of Wellington's problems.

Diane wondered whether Wellington's sudden turn to ill-health was in response to the upheaval that was ahead. She knew that decisions needed to be made...and soon.

"Some days he thinks he's going to die and then the next day he thinks that something will happen and he will miraculously feel better and everything will be all right," Diane said. "I don't understand his reasoning."

Randy was also frustrated with him. He figured Wellington could probably buy a condo with the handsome profits from the sale of the mansion and live quite nicely for the rest of his life. But psychologically, he wasn't so sure if Wellington could handle it. The old mansion was part of Wellington's being. Tearing it down could be his ruin.

"I'm just not sure how much longer I can stay here," Diane continued. "My life is so scattered now. It's in two different places and I need it to be in just one." Tears started to form in her eyes.

"Maybe this will help," Randy said. He reached into his pocket to retrieve the small package. "Diane, I know it's only been a short time. But I feel like we belong together." He slipped an enormous ring on her finger. "Will you marry me?"

The tears that had been accumulating in her eyes were now streaming down her cheeks. "Oh Randy it's beautiful," she said as it sparkled on her hand. "I don't know what to say."

Randy looked deep into her eyes. "Say yes."

### CHAPTER 25

### RANDY GOES BERSERK

It started out as a slight headache, but Randy recognized the familiar feeling. He hoped it would go away, but it didn't. Something was wrong. Each day the pains and resulting agitation became a little more prominent and a lot more troubling.

Randy figured it wasn't just because Diane had said no to his proposal. The fact that she had added not yet was actually encouraging. Even though she had rejected the marriage offer, he insisted that she keep the ring -- until she was ready to put it back on. She agreed as she slipped it back in the box. She needed to think about it.

Actually, Diane needed to think about a lot of things. Once again she headed back to Palm Springs to take care of her own personal business. Even though she was tired of going back and forth, this time she relished the idea of getting away from the two men in her life. Her feelings for Randy were strong, but very uncertain. Her dealings with her uncle were frustrating and getting combative. And both relationships were becoming downright bewildering. She needed some distance. She would be gone three weeks this time. She hoped to come back fresh and more clear-headed to deal with the situations.

But for Randy, her absence was ill-timed. She helped to stabilize him when he would get antsy. Without her around now, his growing uneasiness was starting to grow unchecked.

June and Alexis noticed it first. A slight shift in his persona.

"What's with the doctor?" Alexis said getting back in the office after lunch. "He's all edgy again."

"I think he misses Diane," June said. "You know men are lost without us."

They laughed as Randy came around the corner. He didn't even crack a smile nor ask what the joke was. He didn't care.

"How many patients do we have this afternoon, Alexis?" he asked.

"Twelve, doctor." She handed him a print-out.

June looked over his shoulder at the list. "Oh I thought maybe your brother-in-law was coming in to see you today," she said.

"Joel? Why? Did he make an appointment?" Randy wasn't aware that his brother-in-law was sick. He and Jan usually called him directly if they weren't feeling well.

"I saw him a few minutes ago down in the lobby on my way back from lunch," June said.

"No, there's no appointment for Joel Adams," Alexis said checking her computer. "But I saw him too, when I was waiting for the elevator. I heard him talking to Mr. Jamison about the alarm or something."

"Oh, I hope there hasn't been a break-in at any of the offices," June continued.

"Why else would a cop be talking to the building manager about an alarm?" Alexis said.

Her more sensationalist viewpoint caught Randy's ear as he headed back to his office. Fearful thoughts and possible scenarios bombarded his head. What was Joel doing here? Why would he be talking to the building superintendant? Was it about him?

Fueled by an uncontrollable feeling of paranoia, he made a sudden stop and turned back. "I'll be back in a couple minutes." He brushed by June and headed for the hallway.

Randy pushed the down button of the elevator and impatiently watched the numbers light up as it slowly reached the fourth floor. He was glad when the doors opened and no one was inside. But he became more and more anxious as it stopped on every floor on the way down. He had no time for civility as he pushed out of the door in front of everyone when it finally landed in the lobby.

He stomped over to Mr. Jamison's office and went in without knocking.

Mr. Jamison looked up. "Oh, hello, Dr. Belmont."

"Hi Stephen...." Randy realized that in his rush he hadn't even formulated how he was going to approach the subject.

"I just talked to your brother-in-law," Jamison said.

"Oh did you?" Randy said in mock surprise.

"Yeah. What can I do for you?"

Randy racked his brain for an excuse to be there. "I... I wanted to ask you about the new card keys we were issued to get in the building."

"What about them?"

Randy stood in awkward silence. "How many can we have issued for our office?" he finally blurted out.

"Let's see you have three already, right? That's the limit unless you want to pay for more of them. It's fifty dollars apiece for each extra card key."

"Oh, ok. I might need some extras," Randy said.

"I went over all this with Alexis. Didn't she tell you?"

Randy shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "You know, maybe she did. I just needed to know. I'm thinking about having a new doctor work out of my office space and maybe another nurse."

"Ok. Just let me know what you need." Jamison turned back to his computer.

"By the way, what'd my brother-in-law want?" Randy asked as he turned towards the door deliberately avoiding Jamison's eyes.

"Police business. I'm not sure what it was about actually." Jamison looked up over his glasses. "But I couldn't help him anyway."

Randy lingered in front of Jamison's desk. "Did we have a break-in?"

"No, no. It wasn't that. He was wanting some records of who had come into the building afterhours. But since we've changed the security, I couldn't help him. Those records are long gone. Our old security firm went belly-up. No way to get those anymore," Jamison said.

"Oh, well," Randy said. He was relieved but wasn't sure why. "Must have been asking for records from long ago..."

"Yeah a while back...July 22 or 23. Whenever the date was when that gal was killed up on the Cliff. Wanted to know who if anyone came in here afterhours. What card keys were used. These cops, you just wonder what they're trying to do. Anyway, I couldn't help him."

Randy's nervous tic took over as he processed what he had just heard. "That's too bad...I mean that you couldn't help him." He turned and made a fast exit out the door.

So Joel was trying to check up on him...trying to verify his story of coming back to the office that night. That damn Katy waiting up for him at home and then spilling the beans! At least Jamison didn't have the information to help him. The odd chance that the old security company didn't have the records from July made Randy wonder. Was the Cliff still protecting him– just as it had on the night of Ginny's death when it had distracted him from pulling into the bar's parking lot? And how long would it protect him?

"Patients in Room One and Two," Alexis said as Randy whizzed by her desk.

He headed to his office and opened his desk drawer for his pain pills. He looked down at his shaking hands. There was no denying it. He was back on the horrific road he had been on before Ginny's death. Why had he had such a short streak of good feelings? He had been expecting 25 years of bliss – not a mere couple of months.

He needed talk to Mr. Wellington, even though the old man was becoming a basket case himself.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

"Katy! Katy! Get in here!" Wellington's voice echoed through the mansion.

Katy rolled her eyes as she appeared at his bedroom door. The old man was driving both Katy and Javier crazy with his relentless bickering about everything.

"Where's my robe?" he demanded.

She looked around the room. "Right over there on the chair under all those papers," she said.

Wellington rose out of his bed only to fall back down on it again.

Katy rushed over to the bed. "Mr. Wellington, are you all right?"

"Yes. Yes. Leave me alone!" He pushed her away. Wellington put his hand up to his head. It was obvious he was in pain.

"Do you want me to call the doctor?" Katy asked.

He looked at her. She noticed how unhealthy his eyes looked. There was very little white in them. His whole body was beginning to look very gray.

"I'll call him myself. Tell Javier to draw my bath. I'm going to get up," he said. "And tell him not to get it so hot this time. Yesterday I about scalded myself!"

"Mr. Wellington, you already had your bath for today," Katy said.

Wellington's puzzled look troubled her. He hadn't remembered. He was going downhill fast – and unfortunately so was his doctor.

Wellington finally dialed Randy's office number after a couple of botched attempts. As he waited through the recording, he grimaced from his newest pain in the back of his neck.

"If this is a medical emergency, dial 911," said the recording.

"I'm not going to call 911," Wellington screamed into the phone.

"If you would like to make an appointment press 1, if you wish to speak to one of the office staff press 2." Wellington hated recorded messages. He pressed 2 long and hard, hurting his ear in the process.

"Good Afternoon, Dr. Belmont's off...." Alexis couldn't even get out her full greeting before she heard Wellington's gruff voice.

"I need to talk to Randy. This is Julius Wellington."

Randy had just finished with the final patient of the day and was headed to his office. Alexis hurried down the hall to retrieve him. "Mr. Wellington is on line 1 and said he needs to talk with you. It sounds important," she said.

Randy nodded and continued to his office. This would save him calling the old man himself.

"Yes, Mr. Wellington?"

"Randy, I need you to prescribe something stronger for me," he said.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"It's my gut. It's my head. It's everything. These pills aren't working anymore," he said.

Randy had seen this coming. He had already decided what the next step up in medication was going to be if Wellington needed it. "Put Katy on the phone, would you?" He heard him wail for Katy.

"Katy, we're going to phone in a new prescription for Mr. Wellington. Can you pick it up?"

"Absolutely!" She welcomed anything that might help him. "He's a real mess today!" she whispered.

"Give me back the phone for a minute!" Wellington grabbed the phone from Katy's ear. "And also Randy, I'm not going to be doing that full body scan tomorrow. In fact, I may never do it!"

Randy put his head in his hand. This was not the day for Wellington to go crazy on him. He was having too much anguish himself. "Mr. Wellington, if you don't feel well enough to do it tomorrow, I'll cancel it. But I need to have you do the scan. We'll talk about this later, okay?" he said as calmly as he could.

"I've had it with all these tests!" he continued.

This battle would have to be fought another time. At this point, Randy wanted to turn the conversation...to the Cliff.

"Mr. Wellington, I want you to try to relax. Katy will get your new medication. Why don't you go outside and sit on your patio. It's a beautiful day. Go out there and experience some nature. Look up at the Cliff for awhile."

There was a pause at the other end of the phone. "I don't want to stare at that damn Cliff."

"I know. It's not the same since Ginny Stewart died up there," Randy said.

There was no response.

"And it reminds me....I'm helping my brother-in-law with something." Still no response.

"He's working on the Ginny Stewart case. You know he's a detective," Randy said revving up for a few questions.

"Yes," Wellington said leaning back against the headboard of his bed.

"Anyway, he was having trouble finding some of the records about the deaths over the years up there. And I remember you know about some of them. He'd be interested in knowing..."

Randy could hear Wellington sigh at the other end. "Oh, for Pete's sake, I'm in no condition to give a history lesson to the police."

"No, no. You wouldn't have to. I just wondered about a couple things...just so I could tell him, you know. It was the curse I wasn't clear about."

"Why? He thinks the death of that young woman had to do with the curse?" Wellington asked.

"He just wants to know some of the details about it. Just in case someone had a motivation. Of course, he probably doesn't think the curse is even real..."

"Randy, why do you really want to know about the Cliff's curse?"

"You know Ginny was a friend of both my sister and me. I'm just trying to help out my brother-in-law..." said Randy on the defensive. His lying was becoming easier now.

"Randy, I think you know everything I know. In fact, maybe you know more than I do."

Randy felt his tie tightening around his neck. He grabbed the knot to loosen it. "To tell you the truth, I'm having trouble remembering what you told me." Randy laughed nervously.

Wellington briefly explained the curse of the Cliff once more. But Randy's question was still not answered – why was the curse not working for him this time?

"But how long do these good luck streaks go for?"

"It depends, Randy," Wellington said. "I'm getting tired now." His voice was drifting off.

No not yet. Randy had to find his answer. He no longer cared if Wellington suspected him. "What does it depend on?"

Wellington thought for a moment. "A strong connection with the person being sacrificed."

"What do you mean?"

"When Chip, you know the boy I told you about, pushed his friend off the Cliff, he had years and years of luck because he had strong feelings for the friend he killed. That's an important element. And also it was no accident. Chip actually pushed his friend off. He admitted it," Wellington said.

Randy couldn't believe what he had just heard. Everything he had done was wrong. He had no feeling or connection with Ginny on any level. Absolutely none. He had always made it a point to avoid even thinking of her. And as far as his pushing her off himself -- the Cliff had taken over. Randy was just an observer.

"Randy, what was your connection with that girl who went off the Cliff?"

Randy sat horrified. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest as his paranoia escalated to new heights. He was going to have to tell Wellington the truth.

Suddenly there were two clicks on the line. Randy looked down at his phone. Someone was listening. And it sounded like the clicking was happening from his end.

"I'll speak with you later, Mr. Wellington," Randy said.

"My pills, don't forget...."

Mr. Wellington was cut off as Randy yelled, "Alexis! Alexis!"

Alexis came running into the room.

"Was that you on the phone line?"

Alexis gave Randy a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry. I was trying to make an outside call. And then I heard you and Mr. Wellington talking..."

That was all he needed to hear.

"Were you listening to my conversation on the phone?" Randy screamed. He got up from his desk and crossed the room towards her.

"No, sir. I pressed the button on my phone by mistake. I was going to make an outside call and. . . ." she said, feeling cornered.

"What did you hear?" Randy was becoming unglued.

"I just heard your voices. So I pushed another button to make my call."

Randy didn't believe her. First Joel nosing around, and then Wellington asking too many questions, and now Alexis eavesdropping on his call.

Randy glared at her. "Tell me what you heard, Alexis. You know it's unethical what you did. And grounds for dismissal."

"I didn't do anything! I didn't hear anything!"

"Then why are you so nervous?"

"Because you're yelling at me!!" Alexis broke down in tears.

"Just tell me if you were eavesdropping. Were you?" Randy asked as he watched her sob.

"No, I wasn't!" she screamed.

He stared at her long and hard. Everyone was against him. He knew he could trust no one.

Alexis had had enough. She knew her days in the office were now numbered. "There is something wrong with you doctor! Everyone has noticed it. You need to get some help!" She turned and stormed out. The walls shook as she slammed the door shut. Randy sat gazing at the door wondering where this was going to lead.

He staggered back to his desk and crumbled into his chair. After only a few seconds June came in. Instead of the gentleman who she had been accustomed to seeing, she gazed upon an unnerved, angry, and confused man.

"What happened, Doctor? Alexis went running out of here like a shot saying she's quitting."

"She was listening in on my conversation with a patient. I will not have that in my office," he said with an intensity that June had never heard before. But she instinctively knew that it was Randy who was out-of-line. "Call Barbara and ask her to come in on Monday. Ask her if she wants to switch to full-time," Randy growled. "And call this in to Mr. Wellington's drug store." He handed her the prescription.

June was quite aware of how temperamental her boss was. In the past, she had been able to keep things calm in the office. But this situation was too volatile and... strange. Luckily there were no patients left to hear the uproar. June closed Randy's door as she left him sitting alone. She couldn't wait to get out this madhouse herself. The doctor had run amuck.

### CHAPTER 26

### BART'S LAST STAND

Randy had to do a lot of backtracking to get Alexis and June back in the office on Monday. He called both of them and offered as earnest an apology as he could. He didn't want either of them bad-mouthing him around town.

June bought it, but Alexis was only coerced to come back when both women were promised a hefty raise -- doubling their salaries. It was an offer neither could refuse. He also hoped in Alexis' case that the money would ensure her silence, just in case she had actually heard anything incriminating in that phone call.

But even though she agreed, Alexis no longer trusted the doctor. In fact, she and June made a pact – they would have each other's back. Any warning signs of Randy going off the deep end again would mean they would walk out together and maybe even report him.

On Monday, Randy could sense their apprehension immediately. He needed to be on his best behavior. His life could unravel very easily if he didn't keep himself under control. There was only one way to do that. He should have followed his first instinct.

"Alexis, when is Bart Gallagher's next appointment?"

Alexis looked at her schedule. "A week from Wednesday, Doctor."

Randy hoped he could keep it together that long. Until then he would go into hibernation as much as he could \-- even cancelling a few appointments and referring them to Dr. Najid down the hall. When a week from Wednesday finally arrived, Randy had nearly sedated himself into oblivion. He was just glad he wasn't foaming at the mouth.

\----------------------------------------------

The door to Examining Room #1 opened.

"Hello, Bart," Randy said to his least favorite patient. He thought back to what Mr. Wellington said was needed for the Cliff's rewards. If there was anyone who he had strong emotions about, it would be this man who sat on the exam table in front of him. He hated him with all his might. "How are you feeling?"

"Well, life isn't co-operating, but I think the pills you prescribed do help a little."

"Having problems with life, huh?"

"No, with work. This might be my last appointment with you," Bart said out of the blue.

Randy thought if things went right it would be.

"I got canned from my job. My health insurance is going to be cut off at the end of the month," Bart continued.

"Sorry to hear that, Bart."

"Yeah. I had a run-in with the wrong person at the office. The guy's an asshole. And I told him so. He was lucky I didn't give him a fat lip. Turned out he was a favorite of one of the bosses."

It appeared Bart hadn't changed much. Now this idiot didn't even have a job.

"And here I was going to ask you if you wanted to check out some property in the area. I thought you might be looking to buy."

"No way. This town sucks. Honest to God, I don't know why I thought I could come back here. My job was screwed. The people here are stuck-up. None of the chicks in this place are worth it. I'm out of here!"

"So you're moving out of Kingsbury?" Randy couldn't believe it! His murderous plot was going up in smoke.

"My rent's paid until the end of the month. At that point, I'm on the road. Maybe you can give me a few refills on that prescription, huh?" he said as he gestured to his chart that was in Randy's hand.

"Let me take a look at you first, here." Randy checked out Bart's ears and throat. And then he listened to his heart for any irregularities...all the time trying to figure out how to follow through with the plan that Bart had just put a monkey-wrench in.

"You look good, Bart," Randy said pulling the stethoscope from his ears. "I'll write up a refill prescription for your pills, okay?"

"Thanks, Doc. You know, you're the one person in this crap town who has been okay to me," Bart said as Randy stood in front of him plotting his death. "I can do without everybody else. It's weird. I like the town, but the people... forget it. Except you. I feel like you're my friend."

"I'm sorry to see you go, Bart." Bart had no idea how sorry.

"Kingsbury has changed since we were kids, Randy. You must have felt it. You know, even my old house where I grew up is in a block that's about to be torn down. I'm going over there today to take some pictures of it. Final memories of a place I'm never coming back to." Bart jumped down off the exam table.

"I know what you mean," Randy said subtly blocking the door. "You should take a few pictures around town too. Even if you don't like the people, at least capture a few images of the town you grew up in before it changes altogether."

"Great idea. I don't have any pictures from my childhood. No telling where all that stuff ended up after my parents split up." He reached over to the chair where he had thrown his jacket.

Randy saw his opening. "I hope you're going to go up on the Cliff and take some good shots from up there."

Bart paused contemplating the idea. "Do you know if you can still get up there? I thought there was construction or something going on?"

"No construction yet. Just a lot of clearing I think. Just go up after the work crew has left around 6 or 7 o'clock. Hey, I know some places on the Cliff where you can really get some fantastic shots. I'll show them to you if you like."

"You'd do that? Thanks, Randy. You're the man. Nobody wants to help me out. But you've been really cool to me," Bart said.

Randy almost felt sorry for him...almost. "Okay, when do you want to go?" Randy asked.

"Hey, I've got no plans," Bart said as he put on his jacket, totally unaware of what Randy had in store for him.

"How about later this evening? I can meet you up there." Randy couldn't conceal his smile. "Around Seven."

By 6:45 Randy was waiting for his prey at the end of the gravel road leading up to the Cliff. He noticed that a new chain had been hung with a No Trespassing sign semi-blocking the foot trail to the top trying to discourage anyone from going further up. He laughed to himself at the city's half-assed attempt.

At 7pm the sound of a car barreling up behind him could be heard. It was Bart. Randy got out of his car and they shook hands as if they were friends. "This way," Randy said motioning up the slight incline. It took only ten minutes to reach the spot where he and Jeremy had once stood.

"This is perfect," Bart said. He removed his camera from its case and started to snap pictures. The dusk sky was putting on a vibrant light show. "A great way to remember this town without any people in the picture messing it up," he said.

After a while, Randy pointed over to the backside of the Cliff. "I want to show you another good place to take some shots. Over here."

Randy could feel the Cliff's energy as they hiked to that familiar spot where so much had happened. As usual the air was cool, but the ground was hot. Randy could feel the heat seeping up through his shoes.

"I don't think the view is as good over here," Bart said as he looked out.

"You can't see the town as well. But I've taken pictures here before and the colors really pop," Randy assured him.

Bart turned his back as he stood at the edge of the Cliff taking in the rich shades of green and deep brown enhanced by the light of the sunset. "You're right, Randy. This is pretty amazing."

A sudden gust of wind blew through the area causing Bart to step precariously close to the edge. "No, I want to do it myself!" Randy blurted out into the air. He didn't want the Cliff's interference this time.

Bart turned back towards him with a puzzled expression. "What'd you say?"

"Hey, give me your camera. I want to take a couple pictures of you with this backdrop," Randy said.

Bart handed him his camera and Randy looked through the viewfinder to get his victim in frame. Bart made an obscene gesture with his middle finger as Randy snapped the picture. He looked back down at the small LCD monitor of Bart's camera to see what he had just captured. He didn't even notice Bart's childish pose, but focused on the background. The shadows made the landscape look ominously dark. But the sky was displaying a strange color pattern with the swirling clouds in a formation of a distorted face.

"Wait, one more," Randy said putting his hand up. "Back up a little bit," he stepped towards Bart nudging him closer to the edge.

Bart looked back. Even though he was as close to the edge as he wanted to be, he obliged by taking a couple of small steps backwards. "What are you trying to do? Make me fall over?" Bart laughed.

Randy ignored his comment as he focused on Bart through the viewfinder. That was a mistake. He stood staring through it for almost a minute as Bart encouraged him to hurry up. As much as he hated him, Randy glimpsed for the first time the humanity in Bart's eyes. He still didn't like him, but he didn't want to kill him. He took the camera away from his face.

The conflicting feelings were confusing him and he was no longer sure if he really wanted to follow through. He just desperately wanted to feel better and had convinced himself that this was the only way. Or was it? Wasn't there a better way to heal himself? Randy started to shake. He knew it was too late to heal, but maybe he could summon the courage to stop.

Bart looked at him not understanding what was happening. "What's the matter?"

"Just give me a minute," Randy said. He lowered his head to gaze at the ground. "You know, I hated you all my life..."

"Randy, I... I apologized for that." Randy's sudden off-the-wall confession baffled him. Bart truly didn't understand the havoc he had caused.

"You think an apology is going to erase what I've been feeling all my life?" Randy snapped back.

Bart took a couple steps towards Randy and put his hand on his shoulder. "Listen, buddy, I told you before. I'm sorry. And I like you. You're the only one in this town who's been straight-up with me since I've been back here."

Randy couldn't even respond. Bart had grossly misinterpreted his actions. Everything he had done since they had reconnected revolved around weaving a death plot.

"You know what? I wish I was you," Bart continued.

Randy couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You've got it made, man."

Randy shook his head. "No, I don't."

"You've probably got more money than I'll ever see all my life. And don't you have a girl-friend now... old man Wellington's niece?"

"How did you know about Diane?"

"You don't think people talk about you here? You're the doctor everyone wants. That's what I mean, man, you got prestige. I respect you for that. I really do."

Randy never thought he would hear this. What else could he ask for? Bart had apologized twice now and was telling him of his respect. Randy looked back into the eyes of his nemesis. The revelation hit. There was nothing that was going to change what had happened in the past between the two of them -- but it was now his job to forgive Bart. A healing was starting to take place and the Cliff didn't like it.

But forgiveness was only the first step. Bart's mean streak had been a catalyst, but Randy's reaction to it had been far worse. And he knew it. He had continued a violent cycle and accelerated it. Revenge was suddenly not sweet. Randy looked up at an unexpected bright opening between the clouds in the darkening sky. He could stop the cycle and where better to do it than right here on the Cliff.

A violent blast of wind blew through showing the Cliff's displeasure. Randy's defiance was causing the Cliff's usual dominant force to distort... into fragments of shattered energy. Randy could feel it.

"Thank you," Randy said. He put his hand out and then embraced Bart who still did not grasp the situation.

Randy's gaze focused on the ravine below as he looked over Bart's shoulder. He didn't have to do this. He could stop it now. He could even feel himself growing stronger.

Bart had had enough of the hug. He broke free and saw Randy's tear-stained face. "I can't believe you still think about what I did way back when," Bart said.

Bart didn't get it, but now it didn't matter. "I don't think much about my past," he continued. "I barely even remember being in school. I can vaguely remember you hung out with that short little dopey guy. What was his name? Jimmy?"

"His name was Jeremy."

"Didn't he kill himself falling off the Cliff back in the day?" Bart laughed. "What a wimp!"

The energy shift was abrupt. That was all the Cliff needed. Randy drew back his fist and aimed at Bart's face. He threw the punch so hard that he thought he might have broken a finger or two. Bart fell to the ground as much in surprise as in pain.

"Now who's the wimp?" Randy looked down at him and let out a snort. He had almost fallen for it. Bart had only given him respect because of his status in town, while people like Jeremy were still being maligned.

Bart knew from Randy's wild expression that he was in big trouble. Randy was now in control –something neither had experienced in their childhood relationship.

"You don't remember much, huh?" Randy snarled. "Well, I remember everything, buddy!"

Any thoughts of forgiveness had vanished. He was reacting once again. He threw the camera as hard as he could at Bart's face, hitting him square in the right eye. Bart put his hand up to his wound in pain.

"You're crazy!" he yelled suspecting that his end was coming.

Randy looked down at the injury he had caused. The anger and hate that had been submerged for over twenty years was boiling over. He recalled how his own right eye had stung when Bart had smacked him, as he and Jeremy were walking home from school.

Randy grabbed Bart and pulled him to his feet.

"Please, Randy..." Bart pleaded for his life. "Leave me alone, please." He couldn't summon any amount of fortitude to defend himself.

Randy looked at him with an evil amusement. The super-human strength Randy possessed couldn't be challenged. He welcomed it into his body as he lifted his quivering enemy off the ground and tossed him to the wind.

One last image of Bart's terror-stricken face pierced Randy's mind. A twinge of sympathy started to seep through, but it would be blocked. The Cliff would not allow such a thing.

### CHAPTER 27

### MR. PEABODY

Joel looked down at his ringing phone. He didn't recognize the number on the read-out. He had thirty minutes left on his shift and was eager to get home to have dinner with his family.

"Sergeant Adams speaking."

"Sergeant, I just heard it. I just heard it. That sound!"

Joel recognized the voice immediately. It was Skylark.

"Are you sure?"

"As plain as day, sergeant. Wooooosshhhh!"

The hair stood up on the back of Joel's neck as she repeated her sound effect. "Are you looking at the Cliff right now? Do you see any activity?"

Skylark was already out on her back patio. It was dark. "I don't think so."

"Any lights?"

Skylark looked hard towards the other side of the ravine. "No, I don't see anything. But the sound was very strong. About five minutes ago."

"Okay, thank you, Skylark. Let me know if you see or hear anything else. And Skylark, I appreciate it." His shift would not be ending on time.

"Tony, there might be some activity up on the Cliff. Remember Skylark, the woman who heard those noises up on the Cliff the night Ginny Stewart was killed? She heard it again."

Tony shook his head in disapproval. "Not that crackpot!"

"This is a lead we need to follow," Joel said. "If only to resolve once and for all if this sound she hears has any validity. Let's head out. Order some back-up."

A black and white followed Joel and Tony as they sped up to the Cliff. They arrived at the top of the gravel road to see Bart's Honda Accord still parked by the chain. The two patrolmen approached the car while Joel and Tony stood back, hands on their guns.

"Ed, let's run a check on these Washington plates," Joel said to one of the officers after they discovered no one was inside.

Tony, Joel, and the other patrolman climbed the hill with flashlights in hand. It was nearly pitch black. No one was found after an hour of searching. Any further investigation should logically wait until there was some light.

By the time they had arrived back to their cars, the patrolman who had run the check on the car was just receiving information. "The car belongs to a Brandon Gallagher. His address is listed in Seattle. No warrants."

"Ed, you and Antonio check back up here tonight in a few hours. See if this car is still parked here. If it's still here by tomorrow around 6:30, call me."

Joel dropped Tony back off at the station and headed home. As he drove he wondered the whereabouts of Brandon Gallagher. When he returned home, both Jan and Trevor were waiting to hear any exciting news. When Joel reported that nothing exciting had happened, Trevor looked surprised... Jan looked relieved.

"Maybe that woman is just hearing things, honey," Jan said.

"Did you check over on the backside of the Cliff, Dad? That spot I told you about?" Trevor asked.

Jan smiled. She realized that she was raising a sleuth.

"As much as I could, son. We couldn't see too far down. I'll check it out again tomorrow. "

"Tomorrow? Can I go?"

"No!" Jan and Joel said in unison.

Trevor knew he had blown it last time and figured it wouldn't do any good to beg. "Just remember, go over to the spot I told you. That's where the murders happen. It's the launching pad," Trevor said.

"Trevor!" Jan said. She was appalled that he had a nickname for it.

"I know the spot, Trevor. And I'll check it," Joel said. He looked at his stepson with admiration, secretly wishing he could take Trevor up the mountain with him.

At 6:30 Joel's phone rang. Indeed, Brandon Gallagher's car was still in the same place. He ordered a squad car to meet him at the Cliff. By 7:15, they were again combing the area along with a cadaver dog. Since Bart's unattended car was still there, Joel had been able to authorize a search crew. The workmen who were still clearing the Cliff for demolition had also arrived, but were detained over on the side of the road.

After one hour, there was news. A bruised body of a male appearing to be in his 30s was slowly brought up over the edge.

The coroner's office was called. Both Joel and Tony grimaced as they looked carefully at the body while the coroner assessed the situation. "Looks like his chest area was punctured by something very sharp. Possibly a jagged rock. Also there's quite a bit of bruising on his face area as if he had been in a fight possibly."

To Joel this didn't look like a suicide or accident, but a homicide. As he started to analyze the crime scene, he realized where he was standing and where the body had been brought up. The launching pad! Trevor was either psychic or more clued into the case than he had realized.

The body was of Brandon Gallagher. A wallet was pulled from his pocket. The address listed on his driver's license was from Washington. But he also had a company ID from Infusion Software in town.

The police cordoned off the area as Joel ambled over to where the work crew had congregated. He recognized the foreman, Mr. Hernandez, and his brother from before. They were shaking their heads, no doubt wondering how and why their lives had become intertwined with such horrific circumstances.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hernandez, but we're going to have to ask you to cease any work up here again. At least for a couple days," Joel said.

"I understand," he said. "I will dismiss the crew."

"We'll let you know when the area will be open again."

"This Cliff does not want to come down," Mr. Hernandez said as he walked away once again distraught and confused.

Police searched the area for clues. The media got wind of the situation and were populating the area. They wanted a statement. "Your audience awaits again," Joel said to Tony.

Tony laughed as he took off his hat and pushed his hand through his hair.

"After you're done with the vultures, see what else you can come up with here. I'm going to take a ride over to Infusion, but first I want to thank someone. I'll see you later," Joel said. He walked over to Skylark who had been watching from a distance.

The discovery of the body, as gruesome as it was, had vindicated Skylark. "Thank you for believing me, Sergeant."

"I don't know what it is you exactly hear, but there's something to this. You've been a great help, Skylark. And an excellent citizen," Joel said.

She smiled proudly. It was the highest compliment he could have given her.

Unfortunately, as the new investigation progressed very few leads surfaced. Joel had learned over at Infusion that Bart had recently been fired. Rumors were that he was despondent and possibly suicidal.

"If you're going to commit suicide, wouldn't you do it in a less painful way?" Joel asked Tony as they went over pictures of the deceased.

"Who knows? When you're suicidal you don't know what you're going to do. But those contusions on his face bother me," Tony answered.

Joel nodded. They couldn't rule out anything. Homicide, suicide, or even occult activities.

"You off this weekend, Joel?" Tony asked.

"Yeah, I need it too," Joel said. His mind was tired. "I'm sleeping in tomorrow." He looked at his computer. Some new email. Finally, some information from the state about a previous death on the Cliff.

The two men looked briefly at the files that had been sent -- old Kingsbury newspapers chronicling the death of an unknown woman on the Cliff in 1981.

"I don't see any connection. That was forty years ago," Tony said.

Joel felt the same way. But maybe they could learn something from the other deaths that might give them some direction.

"Okay, partner," Joel said looking at his watch. "Unless some breaking situation happens on the Cliff, I'm out of here til Monday." But the case was under his skin. He looked back at the new email. "I think I'll send these files to my home email and go over them."

"You can't get away from it as hard as you try." Tony admired his partner's dedication.

It felt good to be off for a couple days, Joel thought as he drove home on that Friday night. He was hoping for a quiet weekend. "You mean you don't have anything planned for us?" Joel asked Jan in happy disbelief.

"No, next thing is Tuesday night. Randy's having a big coming home party for Diane. It's going to be at Mr. Wellington's. I've never seen Randy this happy about planning something. He's been acting like a school kid. He's crazy about her."

"How come the party's not going to be at Randy's?"

"Mr. Wellington wanted to be a part of it, but he's too sick to be going out. Poor man, I bet I end up taking care of him eventually." Jan thought of all the town's past luminaries who now resided where she worked at Kings Acres.

"Anyway, I thought we could just spend this weekend together doing nothing.....as a family," Jan said.

"That's kind of boring," said Trevor.

"Well, I did get a file today that I sent to my email about one of the earlier deaths on the Cliff," Joel said. He knew that would liven things up.

"Cool!" Trevor craved new information as much as Joel.

Jan rolled her eyes. Living with a detective was a little overwhelming at times.

Thirty minutes later, she wandered into the den as Joel and Trevor were avidly reading the email. Jan looked at the screen. The headline read: Another Victim of Spirits Cliff.

"You two! Can't you stop it?" Jan said.

"Spirits Cliff claimed its fourth victim in nine years last night when the body of an unidentified woman was found at the bottom of the ravine." Trevor read, ignoring his mother.

Joel had received the whole week's worth of newspapers that followed the death. He and Trevor continued to comb through the material as Jan looked over their shoulders, becoming interested in it herself.

"Okay, this is from the next day after they found her," Trevor said as Joel scrolled down through the file.

"Body in Cliff death remains unidentified. Coroner Sidney Peabody performed the autopsy and found victim died of trauma to the head area." As they kept reading, Joel realized that the death was only big news for a couple of days – similar to Ginny Stewart's death and now Bart Gallagher's.

"Not a lot of coverage," Joel said as he read other headlines. "High winds responsible for house collapse, City council approves new park, Robberies increase this month, No new clues in Cliff death, Lenore Wellington dies of heart attack."

"What year was that?" Jan said.

"This is from '78. Was that Mr. Wellington's wife?" Joel knew little of the city's past history.

"Yes, it sure was," Jan said. She started to read the article. "Lenore Wellington, wife of Mayor Julius Wellington died of a heart attack yesterday morning. No details have been released. Coroner Peabody stated that no autopsy is scheduled. Funeral arrangements are pending at Santon Mortuary."

"Scroll down to the next day, Dad," Trevor said impatiently.

Joel scrolled down further. They continued to look through the other articles. "New hospital wing opens, July hottest month in 10 years, Jane Doe Cliff death remains a mystery," he read. "Sounds like they were having as much luck as I'm having."

He continued to read. "Coroner Sidney Peabody stated that Jane Doe most likely died from injuries sustained when falling onto the rugged terrain over Spirits Cliff. There were no extenuating injuries to indicate that the unidentified woman had died elsewhere and had been merely dumped over the side."

"How do they know that for sure?" Trevor asked.

"Well, just by looking at the body they can eliminate certain aspects," Joel explained. "You know Coroner Peabody would be an interesting guy to talk to if he was still around," Joel said to Trevor.

"Oh, he is," Jan said.

Joel and Trevor both turned. Jan was finally getting some attention. "Really?" Joel asked.

"Yes. I see him every day," Jan said. "I take care of him."

"Do you think I could talk to him?" Joel asked, not wanting to pass up the coincidence that had just fallen in his lap.

"He has Alzheimer's, honey," Jan said. "I don't think he'll be of much help. He might not even remember."

"How bad off is he?"

"He has his moments of clarity. He can't remember what he just ate for breakfast, but he can go on and on about something that happened a long time ago."

"Well, that's what I need," Joel said.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was 1pm on Tuesday when Jan and Joel walked into the small dark room of the former coroner of Kingsbury. Mr. Peabody sat expressionless in his bed with a tray of food in front of him. The Jerry Springer Show blared on the television.

"Hi, Mr. Peabody. How was your lunch?" Jan said as she adjusted the blinds to try to catch the afternoon sun. She walked over to his bed and looked down at the tray. "Doesn't look like you ate very much." A piece of mystery meat was still lying on the plate with some mashed potatoes that had been smeared around in some gravy. The small salad had been untouched.

Mr. Peabody had no response. He looked over at Joel who had positioned himself next to his wife by his bed. Mr. Peabody gave him a distant gaze and then closed his eyes.

"You have a guest, Mr. Peabody," Jan touched Peabody's shoulder to get his attention. "I want you to meet my husband. I told you yesterday I was going to bring him in. Remember?"

Of course he didn't.

"How are you doing Mr. Peabody?" Joel asked.

"I don't know," he said. His eyes were barely open to slits.

Jan could see that he needed some stimulation. The man would stay in bed all day if you let him. "Mr. Peabody, how about getting out of bed for awhile? You need to get a little exercise."

He opened his eyes a bit more. Jan hit the button to adjust the bed upward. She threw back the covers to expose his blue pajamas which covered his skinny torso. Joel watched his wife in action as she helped him slide his legs over the side of the bed. He sat there while she brought his robe over and laid his slippers below so he could put his feet in them. "Okay, we're going to stand now," she said. After several attempts he was on his feet. She grabbed his three-pronged cane, all the while steadying him with one hand. "Good, take a few steps. Let's get limbered up."

Joel stayed out of the way as Jan led Peabody to the other side of the room. "Look outside, Mr. Peabody. It's a beautiful day."

He looked through the blinds and saw the grounds of the home he was in. He rarely went outside anymore unless someone like Jan put him in a wheelchair and wheeled him out. He had little interest in the outside world. He even refused to eat in the common area where many of the residents had their meals. He stood by the window a short time and then motioned that he wanted to sit. Jan helped him to a large chair in the corner. The short walk had somewhat invigorated the old man.

Jan walked back over to his bed and found the TV remote control. She turned down the sound. "I thought we could talk a bit. I was telling my husband about all the stories you've told me about Kingsbury and what you used to do here and all."

"I hear you were the town's coroner," Joel said leading into the conversation.

Mr. Peabody stared vacantly at him.

"You remember that, don't you Mr. Peabody?" Jan asked.

"Of course I remember," he said, looking at her as if she were nuts.

"I don't know if Jan told you. I'm a detective for Kingsbury Police," Joel said. "We've had a couple incidents up on Spirits Cliff lately. I understand there was quite a bit of activity up there while you were working too."

He looked over at the window and squinted. The sun was now catching him in the eye. "Oh a little boy fell off the Cliff," he said. Jan went over to adjust the blinds once more. "Poor little guy," he continued looking at Joel. "I remember his mother...oh my! It broke her heart. And those witches! Those damn witches!! They hung those two unfortunate homeless people. They were human beings. No respect!"

Peabody let loose with a string of expletives as he talked about the coven and how it had shocked the town. Jan fidgeted in her chair as he talked about the transients' bodies, how their necks were twisted, how burn marks covered them from head to toe. If only Alzheimer's could erase the bad memories and keep the good ones, she thought. Meanwhile, Joel listened intently.

"Do you remember back in the late 70s, Mr. Peabody?" he asked. "There was a woman they found who it was assumed had been thrown over the Cliff. I believe she was unidentified at least at first."

Joel watched Peabody's eyes glazed over. He wasn't sure if the old man was in thought or in a daze. Mr. Peabody looked away and then focused his eyes out the window.

"Do you know if they ever found out who she was? I'd be interested to know." The reports that he and Trevor had read didn't reveal if they made any ID on her.

Peabody gave Joel a stare that was hard to interpret. The mention of the unidentified woman seemed to agitate him. His head started to shake as if a spell of Parkinson's was descending upon him.

"Are you ok, Mr. Peabody?' Jan asked.

"I'm sorry. I don't want to upset you. This isn't the most pleasant thing to talk about." Joel said realizing that he had struck a nerve.

"That Cliff! Those people think it had power!" Peabody said with a force that neither Jan nor Joel thought he had left in him. "It only had power because they thought it had. It had no real power on its own."

The sudden outburst startled Jan. She reached over and touched his arm. "It's okay, Mr. Peabody..."

"All those people were sacrifices." Peabody placed his cane in front of him and tried to rise. "Help me. Get me to my bed," he said scrambling to get up.

Joel sat and watched as Jan helped him up. Jan glanced over at her husband. Her expression indicated that the interview was over. But it had proven very beneficial. Peabody's uncanny insight set Joel's thoughts into overdrive about his two Cliff cases that were at a standstill. Could the motivation for them possibly be what Peabody had blurted out?

It took Jan about fifteen minutes to get Peabody comfortably positioned in his bed. He laid his head back on the pillow and let out a small sigh. He motioned for Joel to come towards him.

"You know, young man, I gave my heart and soul to that job for years!"he said quietly. "That was when Kingsbury was the leading town of Jefferson County."

"Yes, you worked a long time for the city. And contributed a lot to Kingsbury," Joel said hoping the accolades would help.

"I worked with men who knew what they were doing!" he said louder. Evidently he wasn't done talking. "Julius Wellington was mayor and he made sure the town had the best of everything. God rest his soul."

"God rest his soul? Mr. Wellington is still living, Mr. Peabody," Jan said.

Peabody gave her a puzzled look. "That can't be!" he declared.

"No he really is. In fact, we're going over to his house tonight. We'll be seeing him," Jan said.

Mr. Peabody closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. The fact that his old buddy Wellington was still alive seemed to comfort him.

"Thank you for talking with me," Joel said as he and Jan walked to the door. "We'll tell Mr. Wellington hello for you tonight, okay?"

Mr. Peabody looked up at them. He had finally settled down. "Yeah, yeah," he mumbled. "Tell Chip... I said hello!"

### CHAPTER 28

### THE ENGAGEMENT PARTY

The Wellington mansion was buzzing-- like it hadn't in years. Randy had convinced a reluctant Diane to agree to a welcome home party. He reminded her that she had been gone for over a month. And to Randy, it had seemed like a year. He also insisted that the party be held at the Wellington house so there would be no excuse for her uncle to not attend.

Deep down, Diane adored that Randy and Uncle Julius had such a close relationship. And since some of the more obvious malfunctions of the Wellington Manor had been repaired in the past few months, thanks to Diane's supervision and Randy's money, she said okay. Little did she know that Randy had an ulterior motive.

Katy rushed to the door hearing the bell ring once again. "Jan! Trevor! Come on in!"

Trevor wouldn't have missed this for the world. The old house on the corner was a source of both rumors and nightmares. An invitation within was like a trip to the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland. Like every other kid in town over the last few decades, he wondered what was inside.

"The party's that way," Katy said pointing in the direction of Mr. Wellington's den. "Go right through the living room and you'll find it. I think you know the way, Jan."

Jan hadn't been in the house for over twenty years but definitely remembered the way. How could she forget? She pushed the now apprehensive Trevor in front of her.

"I have to get back to the kitchen," Katy said as she ducked into the hallway.

Jan and Trevor tiptoed slowly into the gloom of the living room. It was just how Jan had remembered it. Only smaller, darker, and...sadder.

"Don't touch anything, Jeremy!" she said harking back to twenty years before.

Trevor gave her a double-take at calling him the wrong name but didn't correct her mistake. "I won't," Trevor said. Every facet of the room seemed strangely familiar to him as if he had dreamed of it before. Antiques and strange knick-knacks still adorned the room and the frightening pictures on the wall seemed to threaten anyone who might become too inquisitive. But it didn't prevent him from taking in almost every demented detail. He walked carefully, not wanting to brush up against anything.

As they crept through the room, the frivolity in the den could be heard in the distance. Mr. Wellington was holding court for the small crowd that had already assembled. Mrs. Belmont was seated on the couch next to him waiting to be rescued.

"Jan, dear!" she called out with a relieved smile. "You're finally here!"

"Hi, Mother. Hello, Mr. Wellington, it's nice to see you again."

He struggled to get up. "Don't worry," she said signaling him not to bother. "This is my son, Trevor." She pushed him to the forefront.

The old man extended his hand. "Nice to meet you, boy."

Trevor dutifully shook Mr. Wellington's hand trying not to tremble. He felt nervous even touching the man who lived in this old house. However, the odd familiarity and the eeriness of the Wellington living room had him interested. He wondered if he could find a way to explore the other rooms too.

Jan looked around the party at the other guests. Several of the neighbors were sitting in the wooden dining room chairs which had been brought in for the occasion. Even the girls from Randy's office were there -- over by the fireplace, obviously fascinated by the room and its antiquated contents.

"June! I didn't expect to see you here. And Alexis!" Jan said working her way over to them.

"Hello, Jan," June replied. "This certainly is a fascinating old place, isn't it? I've passed it before but never thought I'd be inside." Nearly every bizarre object caught her eye for one reason or another.

"Yes, Mr. Wellington has lived here for years," Jan said. "I'm so glad to see you here. Hardly recognized you out of your work clothes!"

"The doctor insisted that we come. He wouldn't take no for an answer," Alexis said obviously feeling out-of-place.

"Where's your husband? Isn't he coming?" June asked.

"Oh he'll be here. He had to go back to the police station for something."

"Jan!" Mrs. Belmont's voice could be heard over all the low conversations going on. "I had to get away from that dreadful old man," she said as she closed in on her. "What a crashing bore he is! And this house, just look at it!"

"Mother, please don't start," Jan said pulling her away from the other guests. "Did Rosita drive you over?"

"Yes. She's in the kitchen helping Katy. Or should I say, she's doing all the work while Katy dithers around. How poor Diane handles staying over here is beyond me. Where's Trevor?"

Jan looked around. He had worked his way over to the other side of the room and was starting to peek into the dining room. He bumped right into Randy and Diane who were about to enter.

"Where are you going?" Randy said. He grabbed the boy's shoulders and turned him around. "The party's in here, Trevor."

Diane smiled at the youngster. "This house is pretty intriguing. If you want, I can show you around a little bit later."

Trevor brightened up. "This house is awesome!"

Diane laughed. "Yes, I suppose it is in a way."

"Can I have everyone's attention?" Randy called out. "Is everybody here? Someone get Katy and Rosita out of the kitchen. I want them to hear this too."

Jan ducked out into the other room to find them. Randy draped his arm around Diane's shoulder as she stood beside him with her hands behind her back. Both tried to subdue their smiles and look nonchalant, but they were failing miserably.

Katy and Rosita rushed in with serving trays. "Did we run out of hors d'œuvres?" Katy looked around the room.

"Nothing like that, Katy!" Randy said. "We have an announcement to make."

It was obvious. Everyone knew what was coming.

"As you all know, I am totally enthralled with this lady who is standing beside me. And I hope that the feeling is somewhat mutual." He paused for a moment as he drew her closer to him. "Well, she has finally...FINALLY... agreed to marry me."

Diane pulled her hands out from behind her back to expose the ring that she had kept under wraps for several weeks. A huge grin now enveloped her face as a smattering of applause and exclamations filled the room.

"We are officially engaged," he said. Randy leaned in and kissed Diane on the mouth.

The guests congregated around the happy couple. "My baby!" Mrs. Belmont screamed flinging her arms around Randy.

"Congratulations, Diane!" June said hoping that an impending marriage might finally mellow her boss.

"This is wonderful!" Mrs. Belmont declared pushing June out of the way to get to her future daughter-in-law. "I'm as thrilled as Randy." Diane let out a sigh of relief. "Now you're part of our family!"

"Yes, good luck with that," Alexis whispered sarcastically as she stepped up to hug the bride-to-be. Little did Diane know that she was referring to Randy as much as her future mother-in-law.

Katy was overcome by the news. She absent-mindedly handed Mrs. Belmont her serving tray as she hugged Diane as hard as she could. "I am so happy for you, honey."

"Really, Katy!" Mrs. Belmont huffed holding the tray of food waiting for the hug to conclude.

Mr. Wellington had remained seated. "We'll be related, Mr. Wellington," Randy said making his way over to the couch.

"I've always felt we were related in a way," Wellington said. He was remarkably subdued at the news.

The women in the room crowded around Diane gawking at her monstrous sized ring. Randy watched his fiancé as she displayed it. His relief that Diane had at last accepted his proposal nearly erased the weeks of misery he had been going through.

"When do you two plan on getting married?" Wellington asked.

"I'd like to do it as soon as possible. But I'll leave that up to Diane," Randy said. "You know I insisted that we have the party over here so you could be a part of this happy news."

Wellington looked at Randy in silence. "Are you okay, sir?" Randy asked.

"Yes. I'm having some aches right now, that's all," he said. Randy wondered if that was the reason Wellington had not even congratulated him.

The doorbell rang once again and within a few seconds Joel appeared on the landing. Jan saw him right away and went over to bring him into the festivities.

"Sorry I'm late. What'd I miss?" he asked.

"Quite a bit. Guess who just got engaged!" She pointed to Randy and Diane who were now both sitting on the couch next to Wellington.

They walked over to the couple and Joel extended his hand. "Congratulations, bro!"

"Thanks Joel," Randy said springing to his feet. "This is the happiest day of my life." Even Joel couldn't dampen his spirits.

"And Diane. Congratulations to you too! I didn't realize this little party was meant to announce your engagement!" Joel said.

"Neither did I!" Diane declared. "Seems like my future husband was pretty sure of himself this time." Her loving gaze toward Randy reassured him.

"I was hoping beyond hope. Let's put it that way," Randy said. "I am the luckiest man alive."

"Guess that means you're staying in town, Diane." Joel continued.

She looked at him. Honestly, she didn't know what the future would be bringing.

"We haven't even discussed what we're doing." Diane laughed. "Oh my! So many things to think about!'

Randy kissed Diane on the cheek. He didn't want her worrying—not at a happy moment like this.

"And sir," Joel said turning his attention to Diane's uncharacteristically quiet uncle. "You must be Mr. Wellington. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Joel Adams, Jan's husband. Needless to say, I've heard a lot about you."

"Well, don't hold that against me," Wellington said with a wink.

Joel brought up a chair next to the couch as everyone once again sat down to be on Mr. Wellington's level.

"I've heard all good. And from all different quarters. Jan and Randy have mentioned you ever since I joined the family. And I hear about the days you were mayor from some of the old-timers who were on the force way back when. I mean I know some of the guys who used to be on the force then and I..."

"That's okay." Mr. Wellington smiled. He knew he was viewed as some sort of dinosaur.

"Just today Jan and I were talking to one of your former associates when you were mayor," he continued.

"Really? And who was that?"

"Gordon Peabody. Used to be the town coroner."

"Peabody. Sure. Haven't thought of him in a long time."

"Yeah, when I told him I would be seeing you this evening he told me to be sure to give you his best."

"Did he now?"

"Yeah. He sure did. Had great things to say about the days when you were in charge! He said make sure and say Hi to Chip for him."

"Was that your nickname back then, Mr. Wellington?" Jan asked. "That's cute."

Wellington paused. "Uh, yes. People did call me that back then."

Randy nearly spit out his drink. "Chip? They called you Chip?"

Mr. Wellington nodded as the conversation continued around them. Randy sat on the couch with a frozen smile not hearing what anyone was saying to him. He kept hold of Diane's hand, but as his own hands became more and more clammy he broke loose of her grip. The bombshell had clearly thrown him for a loop.

"Diane, could you help me up, please," Wellington said shifting his weight trying to position himself to be able to stand. "I need to take a couple of my pills."

"Let me help you up, sir," Randy said grabbing Mr. Wellington's arm. He knew this was his cue. "I'll go with you. Just want to make sure of something on those pills."

They walked to the first-floor bedroom in silence and Randy closed the door behind them. Wellington bent down to sit on the bed. He grabbed one of his pill bottles as Randy glared at him.

"Now you know," Wellington muttered, unable to look at his long-time friend.

"Mr. Wellington, why didn't you tell me that you were Chip all along?"

"I think you know why, Randy."

"No. I don't."

"Okay, have it your way."

"Mr. Wellington what happened on the Cliff was an accident. You were not to blame," Randy said.

"Maybe yes, maybe no. But that doesn't really matter, does it? Now perhaps you'll see that there is no future for me," Mr. Wellington said.

"What are you talking about? I'm not going to be blabbing this around. That incident was dead and buried a long time ago. I'm not going to resurrect it."

"Are we talking about the same thing, my boy? I'm talking about the Cliff. I'm talking about its curse. The curse you've been so interested in yourself."

Randy had been all set to put the Cliff, the incident with Bart, and the supposed curse out of his mind. All he really wanted to think about was his future with Diane.

"My health is letting me down. I know I don't even have enough money for a pot to piss in. And I'll probably have to leave this house. I know that's coming. And now you know why."

Randy didn't know what to believe anymore. He decided to go the logical route.

"Mr. Wellington, age unfortunately brings ill health sometimes and as far as the other stuff is concerned, I am here now to help you." His bond with Mr. Wellington was stronger than ever --- and for reasons that he had just begun to realize.

Tears welled up into Wellington's eyes. Randy's comforting words were music to his ears, but the old man knew the truth.

"It doesn't matter, Randy. My time has run out no matter what you or Diane or anyone else can do. It's up to me and to a force stronger than any of us."

"Listen, sure there are things we have no control over sometimes. God is..."

"Unfortunately, I'm not talking about God!" Wellington interrupted. "I wish I were. But I've already given my soul away."

"Mr. Wellington, why do you insist on believing that?" Randy didn't want to accept it, even though he felt the same himself. "Are you telling me with all your heart that you think the curse of the Cliff is true? You know from first-hand experience?"

Wellington nodded. "Maybe we both do," he said.

Wellington waited for his reaction. Randy sat on the bed stone-faced. He was not yet ready to reveal his own truth.

Wellington reached for another of his pill bottles. "These aren't going to do me much good before long," he said. "The Cliff gave me a lot of years, good years, but now I'm going to pay. My time's run out. The Cliff wants more from me. And I can't give it. It only gives you so much time."

If there was ever an opportunity to find out more about the curse that he himself was under, Randy knew that this was it.

"Sir, do you truly think that the good in your life happened all because of something that occurred more than sixty years ago? Even if you do believe in that crazy curse, would you be given that long? That's almost a full lifetime! I was only given..." He stopped short. He knew he was getting too emotional and had to watch himself. Mr. Wellington would not goad him into saying something he didn't want to confess.

"Stan was my best friend. I loved him as my brother," Wellington said as memories flooded his mind. "I loved him more than my family. That's why I was granted so much time."

"What do you mean?" Ever since Randy had started to sense the Cliff's curse himself, he couldn't figure out the curse's time element.

"I've told you about this before...when you asked."

"Yes, I know Mr. Wellington." Randy didn't want to press the issue. He had the feeling that the old man already suspected him. "You've given me your theories about this. You have to have a strong relationship with the person, so you say."

"Well, there's more to it than that, son. There's more to it than that! You have to love the person. A positive strong relationship. And I loved my friend. If the sacrifice is someone you truly love, the rewards go on a long time." More tears came to his eyes.

Randy looked at Wellington in shock. His own experience with love had been nearly non-existent until meeting Diane.

"Mr. Wellington, that wasn't what you told me. You said a strong relationship. That could be anything. You didn't say anything about love!"

"Well, what in the world do you think I meant? It's all about love. The Cliff wants to destroy love which is God. Do you think it would want to destroy relationships that were the opposite?"

Wellington's second bombshell of the evening sent Randy reeling. If this were true, he was in for a rude awakening and soon. His feelings for Bart were the antithesis of love.

"Why does this matter to you, Randy?" Wellington asked.

"Love!" Randy was panicking. He brought his hands to his face and covered it. It all made sense now. He had been given 20 carefree years himself because he too had a love for a friend. The fleeting thought of why Wellington had been given 60 years to Randy's 20 passed through his mind.

However, other thoughts quickly flooded in – specifically his own most recent encounters on the Cliff. He certainly didn't love Ginny –quite the opposite. And Bart........

"Oh, no! What have I done!" he murmured. His horrible acts on the Cliff were bad enough, but now he realized that neither of the senseless deaths that he had been responsible for would give him any lasting relief.

"What's wrong, Randy?" He reached out to pull Randy's hands from his face to expose his tear-stained eyes. "What is really wrong?"

Randy looked at the old man with hatred.

"First I find out that all along you were Chip, and now you tell me this. Why didn't you tell me this before!" Randy yelled. He no longer cared if anyone in the other room could hear him. "What else haven't you told me, Mr. Wellington? What else?"

Wellington did not flinch even though Randy was inches from his face as he screamed. The old man looked right back at him. "I think the question is -- what haven't you told me."

### CHAPTER 29

### RANDY'S ADMISSION

Randy leaned back staring at the results of the tests. Mr. Wellington's latest MRI had been quite extensive and numerous problems had been discovered. Biopsies on the removed tissue had revealed some unfortunate findings. He was not surprised, but even so, the realization was shocking.

The next step for Wellington would most likely be surgery. But even after that, the prognosis would probably be unfavorable. Surgery would just prolong the agony. He knew that the old man wouldn't allow it anyway. He guessed that Mr. Wellington had three to possibly six months to live.

Randy swiveled around in his chair and looked out the window. The Cliff was partially visible on the horizon. He usually did his best to ignore it when he was at the office, but this time he stared. Was the Cliff dictating Wellington's health issues or was this just the natural progression of things? His instincts as a doctor were being challenged.

Randy thought back to the conversation with Wellington in the bedroom the previous night. It had been thankfully interrupted when Katy burst into the room to announce that dinner was about to be served. Randy had promptly excused himself from the room and went to compose himself in the bathroom.

Both men did what they could to display their best faces for the rest of the party. But it was hard on both of them. With all the attention Diane was receiving, Randy felt that she had not fully noticed his mood change. But the jubilance he had experienced when Diane had finally accepted his proposal had been effectively crushed with the double-barreled revelations about Mr. Wellington and the Cliff.

As he leaned back further in his office chair, Randy was now thinking more about Mr. Wellington than his fiancé. He regretted his decision to conceal his own involvement with the Cliff to the one person who might understand. He wondered when he would have the courage to reveal the truth to Wellington. He knew the time was coming.

But first, he needed to disclose the findings of Wellington's biopsy to both the old man and worse... to Diane. He figured she would take it the hardest. He decided to not delay the inevitable. Since it was becoming nearly impossible for Wellington to make any trips out of the house, Randy decided to go over to the mansion during his two hour midday lunch break and break the news to both of them together.

He pulled out his phone.

"Hi Katy. It's Randy."

"Hello, Doctor. What a lovely evening that was. I can't tell you how happy I am for you and Diane." She was still basking in the glory of last night.

Randy's head was in a totally different place. "Thank you, Katy. Are Diane and Mr. Wellington there?"

"Mr. W is here, but Diane is doing some errands, but she should be back in a bit. Do you want to talk to him?"

"No. That's okay. Just tell them that I'm going to come over around 12:30. I want to talk to them."

"Absolutely. But why don't you call Diane on her cell and let her know. I'll tell Mr. Wellington. Don't worry, he's not going anywhere."

"Okay, thanks, Katy."

Randy started to place the call to Diane. But he stopped. He just couldn't talk to her right now -- considering the news. Better to just go over there and see them both at once. He thought about Diane and how she would take it. He remembered how beautiful and happy she was last night.

The engagement had put Diane into the best of mindsets. For now, she had buried any worries about her uncle's health or Randy's occasional erratic behavior. She was overjoyed that she had been embraced into the Belmont family even though she knew how quirky they were. She laughed as she thought back at what Alexis had whispered into her ear last night. Yes, the Belmont family was a bit weird.

She couldn't keep Randy out of her thoughts as she drove over to his sister's house. The deviled eggs last night had been such a hit with both Joel and Trevor that she decided to take the remaining ones over as a treat before attending to her other errands. Jan greeted her at the front door.

"Please stay awhile, Diane. I have the evening shift tonight. So I have the day free and I'd love to chat for a bit." Jan loved that another female was joining the family. "You're going to have your hands full in our brood," Jan laughed. "Mother alone is a handful. But she adores you. I hope you know that."

Diane smiled. If she passed the mother-in-law test with Mrs. Belmont, she figured it would be smooth sailing with the rest of the family. The two women lost track of time as they sat and enjoyed their new relationship.

It was already past noon when Trevor came wandering in the room. "Are you going to fix lunch, Mom?"

"Lunch, dear?" Jan looked over at the clock and was surprised to see how late it was. "Go into the kitchen. Diane brought us some of those deviled eggs."

Trevor's eyes lit up. "Thanks, Diane!"

"But only have two. They're rich!" Jan called out as Trevor ran out to the kitchen.

"So is Trevor out of school still for summer vacation?" Diane asked.

"Yes, Kingsbury schools are on that crazy step schedule so he'll be out for another month. And I don't know what we're going to do with him. Both Joel and I work so many hours right now and Trevor's at the age where he's too old for a baby-sitter, but I worry about him being home by himself."

"You know, Jan..." Diane thought for a moment wondering if she should make the offer. "If you like, Trevor can come over and stay with us during the day. Uncle Julius would probably love to have a little company. And well, if Trevor wants to make some extra money, I'd pay him to work out in the yard for us. God knows it's a mess."

"You know Randy used to work over there when he was a kid," Jan said.

"I remember. Uncle Julius might seem gruff, but he actually likes kids. Loves to tell them stories. I think he craves the attention."

"I'll ask Trevor. When we came home last night, all he could talk about was your house."

Diane became a bit embarrassed. "That house is, well, I don't know what to say about it. I gave him a little tour last night because he seemed so interested. I think he enjoyed being over there."

She was right on that account. Trevor loved the house.

As the two women gabbed, Randy was waiting impatiently over at the Wellington's.

"What do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Wellington said coming into the den where Randy was seated. The old man's face looked drawn.

"Hi, Mr. Wellington. Can't keep away from you and your niece," Randy smiled.

"Diane's not here."

"Oh! I called a couple hours ago and Katy said she'd be back in a few minutes."

"Haven't you learned yet to not listen to that dizzy Katy?"

Randy took out his phone to call Diane and then thought better of it. No, he would have the conversation he needed with Wellington alone. In fact, it might be better that way.

Wellington sat in the same chair where he had been when he had first told of the story on the Cliff. How appropriate Randy thought.

"Are we alone?"

"Katy has left. And Javier is in the back somewhere."

Randy didn't want their conversation disturbed. He walked over to close the door into the dining room. "Mr. Wellington, I have some results of the biopsies..."

"When am I scheduled to die?' Wellington asked.

The old man's lack of emotion surprised Randy. He decided not to answer his question. Instead, he explained the nature of the tests and the procedures that had been performed in the past few weeks and how he had consulted with the surgeons and several specialists.

The consensus was that the cancer in Wellington's body had now spread through several organs. Primarily they needed to focus on his pancreas. But immediate surgery was recommended for removing the cancer in his stomach. Until they actually opened him up, nothing was certain. However, this was risky in Wellington's declining condition. Randy would refer Wellington to a surgeon and see what could be done.

"I have a better solution, Randy. But until you're ready to admit something to me, it is useless to discuss it."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the Cliff and you know it."

Mr. Wellington was giving him yet another opportunity to unburden his soul...if indeed he had one left. Randy gasped for breath.

"How did we get ourselves into this, Mr. Wellington?"

There was no answer.

Randy rose from his chair and turned away. He couldn't bear to look into his old friend's eyes as he spoke.

"I have a feeling you know what I'm about to tell you."

Wellington said nothing. He needed to hear the words from Randy. He just waited.

After a deep breath, Randy plunged into his confession. "I went up on the Cliff with Jeremy the day he was killed, Mr. Wellington. Jeremy talked me into it and well, to be perfectly honest, I was all for it too. I know you told me not to go. And all I can say now is that going was the worst decision I ever made in my entire life."

"We all have made decisions that we have come to regret," Wellington said. The somber mood was set.

"We were just two little kids, looking for an adventure to have. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. We were just having fun. But then when we got to the top of the Cliff, it changed. It's hard to explain." Randy started to shake.

"The Cliff can manipulate you, Randy," Mr. Wellington said now trying to make it easier.

"I kept kind of losing control of myself. I was still angry at him because of that stupid fight I had with Bart. For some reason, it was easier to get mad at him than to forgive him...even though there was nothing to forgive anyway. What a fool I am! Why didn't I listen to you when you told me not to go up there?"

Wellington too remembered his warnings. But this was not the time to make an issue of it.

Randy knew he had to continue. "I remember getting real worked up. And poor Jeremy didn't know what was going on. I wanted to hurt him I guess." Wellington watched as Randy grabbed the arm of a chair to steady himself. "I lost it. The Cliff made it so easy. It just sort of fueled me, took my rage and funneled it. But it was my hand. My hand that pushed him..." Randy could no longer stand. He crumbled back into the chair next to Wellington.

"I pushed him...off the Cliff. I can't explain it. I tried to grab him back. I remember doing that. But it was too late. It was too late! This horrible thing! I did it!"

Wellington reached out for Randy's hand. If anyone could understand it was the old man.

"And then I was blessed. Blessed for being a part of that! That horrible, horrible act! And I didn't even know it. I thought all my success was my own doing. How brainless I was to think that. But deep down I knew I didn't deserve it. In fact, it was the last thing I deserved. I deserved to rot in hell."

At that, Wellington took a deep breath. "That remains to be seen. For both of us."

"And then my life started to break apart and I was pulled back here...to Kingsbury. I didn't even understand what was going on...until that day I drove you home from my office. You reminded me about the story...your story." Randy looked up at Wellington as the old man winced at the words. "And then I started to understand my own story. I was a fraud. And I felt like I was already in hell."

"The Cliff is so cunning. So powerful."

"You knew, didn't you? You knew all along about me?"

Wellington shrugged. He had not been sure. But he had needed confirmation –especially under the circumstances. After all, Randy was going to marry his niece.

"I hadn't really remembered that I was even on the Cliff with Jeremy for all those years. I had pushed it so far in the back of my mind."

"I understand that, Randy."

"But it doesn't stop there, Mr. Wellington. And now I've only made it worse!" Randy couldn't stop. The words felt like vomit coming out of his mouth. He looked up at the ceiling. "I've killed two other people, Mr. Wellington. I've killed two people."

Wellington looked at his friend. It was what he had feared. "We're not ourselves. We lost ourselves long ago," Wellington said.

"That Cliff is the devil, isn't it?"

"The devil is very clever."

"Mr. Wellington, it's just what you said. The Cliff wants more. It's so insidious." Finally, Randy had someone to talk to about his torture. The two men hugged and sobbed together – both of them knowing that they were doomed to hell.

Finally after moments of their shared remorse, Randy broke free of the old man's embrace. "How do you deal with it? How have you been able to deal with it?" he asked barely getting the words out between his short breaths.

Mr. Wellington was not willing to answer the question. He turned away.

"What should we do, Mr. Wellington? I've thought so often about turning myself in." Randy stood up and started pacing around the floor. "Eventually, I'm going to be discovered anyway."

"That's not the case. The Cliff protects those who serve it."

"Well, I know I'm not going to cooperate with it anymore. Never ever!" he screamed.

Wellington doubted that. "Randy, you say that now. The pull isn't there currently. But you know it comes. And both you and I know what a pull it is. There's no control over it. Believe me."

Randy knew it was true.

"I hate that feeling!" Randy sobbed. "I know it's going to come soon. The man that I killed, Mr. Wellington, I hated him. I know that sick urge is going to come and come soon. Sometimes I think Diane can help me because I love her so much."

"Yes. Diane. We must consider Diane. She is my main concern."

"Mr. Wellington, how have you been able to deal with that urge, that feeling when the Cliff wants more from you?" Randy asked again.

Wellington sank even lower in his chair. "I'm at that stage now, son. Nothing short of a sacrifice is going to help me."

Randy gasped at the thought.

"I've had a lot of years where I tried, I tried to redeem myself. But of course, you can't. My journey into another kind of hell is waiting for me. And soon."

"Don't say that, Mr. Wellington." Randy couldn't bear to hear something that was also in store for him.

"I'm old. I'm done. Regardless of the Cliff, I would be on my way out. We can't live forever. But unfortunately, for both of us, we will have to face something that is not going to be pleasant. We aligned with the devil and whatever the true meaning of that is, we will have to continue to pay for it even into eternity. You still have some years left here. But for me, I'm ready to leave this life. Maybe I can help you before I go."

Randy couldn't think of a thing that would help. Wellington shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he looked up at Randy's confused expression.

He pulled his friend back down onto the chair and looked deeply in his eyes. "I want you to sacrifice me. Randy, will you please.... push me over the Cliff?"

### CHAPTER 30

### THE AGREEMENT

Randy was speechless. Wellington's request had taken away what little breath he had left in his body. "You'll see that it is the logical answer to both our problems," the old man continued.

"Mr. Wellington, that's impossible." Randy could barely get the words out of his mouth.

"Is it?" Wellington said. Randy knew that this was no joke. He got up from his chair. He could no longer bear the conversation. "Mr. Wellington, you know I couldn't do that."

Wellington's eyes followed Randy as he paced the room. "I believe you could."

Randy took the comment as an insult. He turned away in disgust.

"Don't disregard it, Randy. In fact, as time goes on, it might very well appeal to you. I'll give you some time to think about it."

If he was going to think about it, it would have to be later. Both men heard the front door open. Diane was now making her way into her uncle's den.

"I saw your car," she said walking quickly over to Randy. He was stiff as she reached to touch him. She could tell by their embrace that there was something wrong. "You two look rather somber."

"Diane, sit down for a moment," Randy said. He took her arm and led her to a chair as he tried desperately to compose himself. He was now realizing that this afternoon was several watershed moments rolled into one.

Diane threw her purse on the couch and pulled the chair over to where her uncle was sitting. She knew by the looks on their faces that she was about to hear some very bad news.

"I've just gone over this with your uncle and I need to talk to you about it also," Randy said once Diane had settled into her chair.

Of course, the news he would reveal had nothing to do with the Cliff. That aspect of the situation wouldn't be discussed in front of her. Randy started with the test results and after she had digested those, he followed through with the prognosis. He would deliberately not mention how long he expected Wellington to live -- at least not at this time. As he predicted, she didn't take it well. She hugged her uncle who was now beyond feeling. He tried to console her.

"Diane, dear, don't look so sad," Wellington said trying his best to keep up a good front.

"When can we meet with the surgeons?" Diane asked. She hoped a positive outcome was still possible.

"In a few days. I'll arrange it," Randy said.

Randy suffered as he watched Diane fully comprehend what she had just heard. Tears rolled down her cheeks. He put his hand to her face and gently wiped them off. "In the meantime, I know you'll keep your uncle comfortable and in good spirits."

"Of course, I will." She looked over at her uncle. "Don't you worry now, Uncle Julius. We'll get through this."

"Of course, we will, darling. I have the best doctor in the state." He started to shift in his chair as he prepared to stand. Diane steadied him once he was on his feet. He gave Randy one last glance. "Randy will know exactly what to do."

And Randy knew exactly what he meant. "I'm tired. I must go lie down now," Wellington continued.

"I'll be there in a moment to help you, Uncle Julius," Diane said.

"No need!' Wellington said as he shuffled slowly towards the door. Both Randy and Diane noticed how faded he had become. They watched him as he exited the room.

"Oh, Randy!" Diane cried as she reached for him. He held her for several minutes as she sobbed. "Will he be okay?" She needed some positive affirmation even if it wasn't true.

"Everything will be all right," Randy said. But he sincerely doubted it as he uttered the words.

They sat silently together -- Diane processing what she had just heard and Randy contemplating Wellington's off-the-wall offer.

In fact, it dominated his mind for days to come. He alternated between obsessing about it and trying to banish it from his mind. He also attempted to keep any mood swings in check, but knew that it was a losing battle. The truth was that Randy himself was starting to backslide rapidly. Bart's death on the Cliff would offer him little time of relief. As he started to lose his grip, he began to actually consider Wellington's logic...as twisted as it was.

But he vacillated. Some days he would dismiss it -- going on the Cliff again especially with his dearest friend was too terrifying. He swore that he wouldn't again feed that sinister urge, no matter how sick or distraught he felt. But then on other days he would reverse his thinking. After all, it was Wellington's idea and the old man himself was at the end of his rope. It would actually be an assisted suicide. If he helped with Wellington's death on the Cliff, it would ensure him years of wedded bliss and personal comfort.

But as Randy watched Diane's devoted attention to her uncle, he couldn't bear the fact that he would be the cause of their final separation, even though the old man's demise was inevitable with or without his help. He set up an appointment with Dr. Clausen, an excellent surgeon, but in the back of his mind he suspected that he was doing it all for show.

He visited Diane and Wellington at the mansion almost every day. But the subject of the Cliff was not discussed. Wellington knew he needed to give Randy some space regarding it.

Randy's visits sometimes had to be shared by a new guest who had been welcomed into the household. It irked him that Trevor was now a regular in Wellington's den. Despite his declining health, the old man had hit it off tremendously with the young boy. Diane was pleased that she had set up the scenario. But Randy worried that his inquisitive little nephew might hear, see, or even sense something that would be suspicious. The last thing he wanted was for Trevor to say some seemingly innocent remark to his stepfather and cause Joel to deduce any link between Wellington, Randy, and the Cliff.

It was the last straw for Randy when he and Diane walked into the den one Saturday afternoon to hear the old man regaling Trevor with an old tale about the Cliff.

Randy snapped. "Mr. Wellington, what are you doing?"

Trevor and Wellington looked up, both irritated that they were being disturbed.

"Are you telling one of your grand stories, Uncle Julius?" Diane asked. She figured this was the best tonic for him now.

"Yes, I suppose I am," he said.

Randy did not like this at all. Trevor was sitting at the edge of his seat just as he had done over twenty years before. "Mr. Wellington, save your myths for someone a bit older. We don't want Trevor to have nightmares now."

"We'll resume this the next time, my boy," Wellington said looking over at his new young friend.

"Here you go, Trevor," Diane said taking ten dollars out of her purse. "Thank you for your work today. The front yard is shaping up because of you."

Trevor had enough sense to know that it was now time to leave. "Thanks, Diane. I had fun today, Mr. Wellington. Thank Katy for lunch, okay?"

Diane smiled. "I'll tell her. When are you coming back?"

"On Tuesday. Mom's got tomorrow and Monday off so I'm going to hang with her, I guess." Trevor started towards the door. "I'll see you guys! Bye Uncle Randy."

"Good-bye, Trevor." Randy was glad to see him leave.

Diane and Randy sat on the couch together as they looked at the frail old man in front of them.

"I don't think Randy has told you the latest, Uncle Julius," Diane said once they had settled.

"He's told me nothing," Wellington said.

"Well, just some preliminary tests are being scheduled before your surgery," Randy said. "I'm setting them up for this upcoming week. You go Thursday for your blood work, an appointment with Dr. Clausen on the following Tuesday I believe -- although your surgery isn't scheduled until the 15th."

Wellington did not look happy. "So we're going through with this..."

"Now Uncle Julius, you know we are. Randy says Dr. Clausen is the best surgeon around."

"It's the right thing to do," Randy said continuing the charade for Diane's benefit. Randy looked down at his hands as they held Diane's. He hated to lie to her, as he was starting to consider a different plan – one he hoped that Diane would never know of.

"I've been thinking," Diane said. She looked at both men hoping for approval. "I've been talking to Hal, you know my real estate agent down in Palm Springs. He wants me to come down and clear out my house a bit so he can show it. And I was thinking of doing that sooner rather than later."

"That's a great idea," Randy said. She had told him that she was planning on unloading her ranch. She and Randy would make their home right in Kingsbury.

"Yes, I want to put a lot of things in storage. And of course the house will look much better to prospective buyers if it's less cluttered. So I'd like to do that now before your surgery, Uncle Julius. I'd just be gone a week. Randy and Katy would take care of you while I'm gone."

"Of course we will. Make the arrangements, darling." Randy was ecstatic that Diane was making plans for the move.

"Well, I think it's a rotten idea," Wellington snarled.

His opposition floored both Randy and Diane.

"What do you mean, Uncle Julius? Since we know your surgery is in three weeks, I can go now and be back in plenty of time for it," Diane said.

"I think you should hold off on that," Wellington continued.

Randy could not understand. As much as he hated to be away from Diane himself, he could not only see her reasoning, but figured it would easier both mentally and physically for Diane to be away if he and Mr. Wellington carried out their plan.

Diane also wondered why her uncle would oppose her plans. But she didn't want to rile him. "If you don't want me to go right now, Uncle Julius, I won't," she said. "I understand."

"Well, I don't understand," said Randy. "Mr. Wellington, let Diane go and take care of her business. The sooner she sells her house in Palm Springs, the sooner she'll be up here with us permanently," he reasoned.

Wellington was having none of it. "I don't want her to go right now," he said.

Diane knew that when her uncle dug in his heels there was no argument. "I have all the time in the world, Randy," she said. "I can stay here through the surgery. Afterwards, I'll take care of the house. I'll call Hal and tell him to hold off."

"No, don't do that," Randy pleaded. "Mr. Wellington, really, Diane would only be gone a few days. If you want, I'll stay over here with you. And Katy can surely be here during the daytime."

Mr. Wellington didn't want to discuss it any longer. "I need something to drink, please. Would one of you get me some tea?"

"I'll make you some, Uncle Julius," Diane said breaking away from Randy on the couch. "Now listen you two, don't even talk about this while I'm gone. We'll work it out." She wanted to keep peace at all costs. In fact, she wished she had never brought up the subject.

Randy waited only until she had left the room before he went against her wishes. "Mr. Wellington, why don't you want Diane to go?"

"I just don't. That's all." Wellington felt totally justified in not giving a reason.

"I think it would be a good idea if she goes out of town for awhile," Randy whispered as he sat down close to his ear.

"And why is that?"

"I've been thinking about what you said to me a few days ago."

"Good. I've been waiting for your answer," Wellington said.

"First off," Randy said, "I want to ask you one last time. Are you sure you don't want go through with the surgery?"

Wellington put his hand up to push Randy away. This was not the answer that he was wanting.

"Why don't we try it, Mr. Wellington? Let's not assume that the Cliff is behind this."

"We both know what's happening. There's no doubt and I'm not going to go through any more pretense." He was getting impatient and wanted Randy's official answer.

Randy still was not sure if he should admit to saying that he would go along with such a heinous act. "I just want to make sure, Mr. Wellington...."

"I'm sure, Randy. But let me ask you something... how are you feeling?"

Randy knew what he was driving at. "Not too good, Mr. Wellington."

"Well, I'm feeling ten times worse. I want to get this over with. The sooner, the better."

Randy could feel the chills go up and down his spine as he leaned back on to the hard wood slats of the chair.

"Diane has my affairs in order. I will be leaving everything I have to her. It's all settled. I have resolved myself to this Randy."

Randy was still resistant to take this deadly plunge. The other deaths on the Cliff had not been so methodically thought out. The impulsiveness of them had made them easier to perform. "Even if I agree to do this, it would be better if Diane was not in town."

"She would end up coming back here immediately, so why put her through the trouble." Wellington was not going to back down.

Randy stared into Wellington's face. "All right...when do you want to do this?"

Wellington smiled as he patted his friend's leg. "I'll let you know. But plan on it very, very soon."

Randy's anguish was mixed with relief. There was no other way.

"Here you go, Uncle Julius," Diane placed a cup of tea on the table in front of him. Her sudden reappearance startled them both.

Randy sprang from his seat. "I'm going to take off, Diane." Seeing her after what he had just agreed upon was too much. He kissed her hastily on the cheek. "I'll call you later."

"But..." She could not get her words out fast enough. She watched Randy as he scrambled out of the room. She looked back at her uncle. "You two were arguing, weren't you?"

"No, dear. You know how Randy is. Sometimes there's no explanation with him."

Diane nodded. That was one of his traits that she didn't particularly like.

"Would you mind putting that tea on my bed stand, dear. I feel a nap coming on."

Diane helped him to his room and placed the cup exactly where he wanted it. "Do you need some help getting into bed, Uncle Julius?"

"No. I'll be fine. Please close the door behind you, dear. I just want to rest for a bit."

Wellington stood by his bedside as Diane left him alone in the room. He shuffled over to his bureau and opened the top drawer. He dug deep below his sweaters. There he found the ammunition that he had been keeping for several years. He wanted to make sure it was still safe and sound. He shuffled over to his bed and opened the bottom drawer of his nightstand. His gun was still there.

He thought for awhile as he sat on the bed, eventually taking the gun out and holding it in front of him in shooting position. Finally his plan was in motion. All he needed now was to decide on the time he would execute it. As much as he loved Randy, he knew he could not allow Diane to marry a monster.

### CHAPTER 31

### TREVOR GETS INVOLVED

What are you guys up to?" Jan asked as she came into the den. Joel and Trevor were huddled around the computer screen.

"We're going over those files I got about the Cliff," Joel said.

"Again!" She shook her head, annoyed that neither had even looked up at her. "Didn't you already look through those?"

Although Joel had been sent the files several weeks back, Trevor's interest in the Cliff had been revitalized by Mr. Wellington's tales of mishaps up at Kingsbury's most troubled spot. And Joel was always ready to share his work with his stepson. As menacing as it seemed, the Cliff was bringing the two of them closer and closer together. Trevor had been a hard nut to crack until the Cliff united them in their communal quest and Joel didn't want to lose the momentum of their budding relationship.

"There has been no positive ID of the woman found at the bottom of the ravine. She was found three days ago by hikers in the area," Trevor read. "Her body is currently at the city morgue under the juris...juris..." The young boy jostled in his chair as he tried to sound out the word.

"Jurisdiction," Joel said helping Trevor out.

"...jurisdiction of the coroner's office." Trevor looked up. "What's jurisdiction?"

"That means the coroner is in charge of the body," Joel explained. "He makes sure the body is protected until it is released to be buried or cremated."

Jan sensed her son's ever-growing curiosity. "Trevor, let me repeat. You are not to even think about going up on that Cliff. Do you hear me?"

"No one's even allowed on the Cliff at this point," added Joel.

Work had been halted for two weeks while the ongoing investigation of Bart's death took place. The contractors had finally been given the go-ahead to resume the project, but the company that had been hired to clear the brush and level the backside of the Cliff had been spooked. Any further work was temporarily postponed.

Jan watched her two men as their eyes went back to the article that they had been staring at -- Another Victim of Spirits Cliff. She was happy that they were becoming so close, but to bond over such a horrific thing made her uneasy.

"What does looking through old newspaper articles have to do with these new cases that just happened?" she asked.

"Mom, we're trying to find a pattern," Trevor said. His matter-of-fact answer caught her off-guard.

"Oh, really!" Jan looked at Joel who was beaming ear to ear. "Where'd you come up with that?" she asked.

"From Dad. He said that history can have clues about the present."

"Well, I don't know how. I doubt if one death from up there has ever been solved," Jan said. "Anyway, honey, I thought you said the investigation was more or less wrapped up on the Cliff cases."

"I've got a couple of other cases I'm working on, but Trev has gotten me back into this for the moment. Evidently Mr. Wellington knows some things that aren't common knowledge. Besides, honey, the Cliff deaths are not cold cases."

Jan plopped down on the seat beside them. Was this the way they were going to spend their Sunday? Reading horror tales? Well at least they were doing it as a family. If you can't lick 'em, join 'em, she thought. She reached into the desk drawer and pulled out her glasses.

"You boys have already read this a dozen times." Jan leaned forward and started to focus on the screen. "I even remember this!"

"I thought you weren't paying attention," Joel smirked.

"I'm not really. The Cliff doesn't interest me in the least." She didn't want to give them any encouragement. "I just remember seeing some other article somewhere in this file about Mrs. Wellington's death," she said hoping in vain to change the subject.

Her eyes scanned the page. "There it is!" The article ran parallel to the Cliff story. "And there's a picture of Mrs. Wellington!" She pushed her glasses down further on her nose, looking over them at her husband. "For some reason I think that's very sad."

Joel scrolled down to the next page. Both he and Trevor wanted to continue in their pursuit for information on the Cliff.

"No, wait go back," Jan said. "I want to read the rest of this article."

"Mom, we're not talking about Mrs. Wellington. We're talking about the Cliff!" Trevor said.

Jan put her arm around Trevor as she read, "Lenore Wellington was 47. Reportedly she had been sick for a few months with kidney disease and heart-related problems. The funeral will be private."

Trevor decided to humor her. He looked at the picture of the woman. "I've seen her before," he said.

"Remember that portrait in Mr. Wellington's living room, Trevor? That's her. That's Lenore Wellington."

Trevor scrutinized the picture more closely. "I know her."

"She died way before you were even born, Trevor," Jan said.

Trevor stared into the eyes of the woman in the picture. He felt an affinity to her, but didn't know why.

Jan continued to read. "Coroner Sidney Peabody stated that the cause of death was heart failure." She smiled as she took off her glasses. "They sure kept him busy back then, didn't they? I guess coroners don't have to worry about job security."

Joel rolled his eyes at her macabre comment. "So has Mr. Wellington mentioned this unidentified woman that went over the Cliff?" he asked turning back to Trevor. Jan reclined in her chair. It was useless -- their attention to a subject she hated couldn't be diverted.

"No, he hasn't talked about this one," Trevor said looking back at the article.

"When your mom and I talked to Mr. Peabody the other day I asked him about this case. But he didn't seem to remember much about it. I doubt if it was ever solved. They may not have ever found out who this woman was."

"Why didn't they run a DNA test on her?" Trevor asked.

Joel smiled. He loved that Trevor would ask such a pertinent question. "No DNA tests existed back then, son. Technology has advanced police work quite a bit in just the past five or so years. And DNA is a prime example."

"So Mr. Wellington talks to you about all this, does he?" Jan interjected turning to her son. She did not approve.

"Mr. Wellington knows everything about Kingsbury," Trevor said.

"Yes, he does. I remember him talking to Randy about all sorts of strange things. Randy would come home with the most bizarre stories."

"He talks about all kinds of stuff that happened a long time ago. But the last couple times he's been talking mostly about that curse."

"What curse?" Joel asked.

"He told me that the Cliff has a curse. It's real evil, Dad."

Jan put her head in her hands. "I can't believe he told you that. Listen Trevor, Mr. Wellington is very sick right now."

"He said it was true. He told me a couple stories about how guys have pushed people off the Cliff because they thought that it would bring them good luck." Trevor saw his parents' mouths drop open.

Joel had already encountered quite a few residents who were wary of the Cliff and talked of its supernatural bent. He thought back to his conversation with Skylark who seemed to believe the Cliff had a mind of its own. But this was the first time he had heard as concrete a theory as a supposed curse.

Jan looked over at her husband. "You know I've heard that too. That's an old tale around town here. But I can't believe anyone in their right mind would believe it."

"Anyone who pushes someone off the Cliff isn't in their right mind," Joel said. "If somebody believes something, it doesn't matter if it's not true. People follow what they believe."

"Maybe that's the pattern we're looking for, Dad," Trevor said. His eyes were as wide as saucers. "People are pushed off the Cliff up there by other people who believe in the curse."

Joel turned back to the computer screen. Perhaps Trevor had stumbled upon the link that had eluded him. The three of them sat speechless for several moments until the phone rang so loudly that both Jan and Joel jumped off their chairs. Trevor giggled at them.

"Stop that, you little dickens!" Jan said tickling her son and then getting up to answer the phone.

"You should talk to Mr. Wellington about the Cliff, Dad. He knows everything about it," Trevor said easily snapping back to his chosen topic.

Joel smiled at his stepson. Trevor was right, but to approach Mr. Wellington might be difficult. For one thing, the old man was quite ill. He also felt that Wellington seemed very guarded around him. He, like other policemen, was well aware that many people were reluctant to open up to them. On the other hand, Wellington was surprisingly free around Trevor.

"You have the inside track. Trevor. If you think he can furnish us a good lead, see what you can find out. And then let me know and we might even put it in a report," Joel said.

"I don't know about that, Joel," Jan said putting her hand over the phone. "Mr. Wellington might feel he's being betrayed and spied on. They've been so nice over there giving Trevor a part-time job and letting him hang out with them while we're at work."

"A good detective asks questions sometimes without the other person even aware that they're about to give vital information," Joel whispered. "Don't make it obvious that you're that interested, you know?"

Trevor nodded.

"We'll keep it our little secret." Joel turned his attention back to the screen. "If you hit upon anything I can use, Trev, just let me know."

Trevor smiled. "Okay, I'm going over there again tomorrow. I'll see what I can find out."

Jan didn't like what she heard as she came back within earshot. "Listen, you two! Stop it! You don't need to go over there tomorrow, Trevor."

"Why not?" Trevor asked. He felt he needed to go.

"I'll be home during the day tomorrow. I have the late shift so I don't have to go to work until five o'clock. I thought we could go over to the Big 5 and I'd buy you a new game for your computer," Jan said trying to distract him from his growing obsession.

Trevor thought for a moment. "We can do that in the day, Mom. It's light outside until really late. You can drop me off over at the Wellington's when you go to work at five. I already told Diane I'd come over and put all those branches Javier cut down in their trash cans for garbage day."

Jan rolled her eyes. She was tired of arguing. "All right, Trevor. But please promise me you won't go and start asking Mr. Wellington about the Cliff!"

"All right! All right! I promise I won't." He figured he was telling the truth. Wellington would talk to him about it without his asking. "I'm going to go outside now."

Jan smiled as she watched him leave and then sat back down leaning her head on Joel's shoulder. "That Cliff has always given me the creeps. Always! The thought of Trevor being interested in it... I... I'm just afraid. He seems so involved with it. It worries me."

"He has enough sense not to try to go up there on his own," Joel said. "Give him some credit."

Jan gave her husband a kiss. "I love you, honey. I know you and Trev are getting closer and I don't want to mess that up. If this is the way it happens then so be it. But I'm just sick to death of hearing about that Cliff. It seems like it's got this perverse hold over the whole town. It always did. You know even Mr. Peabody has changed since you and I talked to him about it. He's been very agitated the last few days. Weird thing is though he is much clearer, even though his disposition has gotten kind of sour."

"I'm sorry, honey." The last thing Joel wanted was to antagonize one of Jan's patients with his investigation. "I had no idea."

"It's not your fault. You didn't know. Neither did I. But triggering the memories of someone with dementia is very tricky. You don't know where they're going to land after it. But at least he's making more sense and is much more alive than he was," she said.

Joel's attention went back to the screen. "Okay. Let's stop looking at this," he said turning the computer off.

They sat in silence enjoying each other's company. "I could stay like this forever," Joel said.

"Me too." Jan let out a huge sigh. "But unfortunately, we can't. That was Mother on the phone and she's coming over."

Joel wasn't too thrilled at the prospect. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"No, she's just bored. She told me Randy locked himself in his den and doesn't want to be bothered. I guess he isn't feeling well again."

"Maybe he just wants some privacy from your mom."

Jan arched her eyebrows.

"You know what I mean," he said. They both smiled.

Jan knew exactly what he meant."No, this time it's Randy. He's back to being moody. Diane's mentioned it to me also."

"I figured his engagement would make him more agreeable," Joel remarked.

"I never know what to expect when it comes to my little brother," she said. Joel didn't either. He never felt quite at ease with him.

"I used to think he was so level-headed," she continued. "But you know how he is now. Totally unpredictable. Up one day and down the next."

"I thought when he had that problem with the den, he was going to lose it," Joel remembered.

"And he did for awhile, then he snapped out of it. But now the last few days he's back to being very distant, really strange. I don't know what to make of it. I hope he doesn't blow it and chase away the one person who's fallen in love with him," Jan said thinking of Diane.

Indeed, Randy had been on the verge of losing it several times. The aftereffects of Bart's death had totally worn thin and his edginess was hard to conceal. He figured the best thing to do was seclude himself as much as he could -- until Wellington gave him the word. When he had agreed to Mr. Wellington's preposterous idea seven days ago, he couldn't really imagine following through with it. But now he was counting on it. What a difference a week makes, he thought.

As Randy sat sequestered in his den, he was unable to shake the familiar twitchy feeling overtaking him. He had been trying to keep it together around Diane as much as he could and had mellowed about Wellington's insistence that she not leave town. After all, the old man had every right to relish his last moments on earth with her, even if they were difficult.

Every day for the last week, Wellington had encouraged him to come over to the mansion. Randy would always comply, hoping the old man would give him more details of what was to happen. But almost as soon as he arrived, Wellington would vanish, leaving him alone with Diane. He figured the old man couldn't hold it together. He identified being in the same horrible mindset. It was becoming excruciating to be around her for both of them – having to lie and keep up a false pretense that her uncle would be having surgery.

Of course, Randy would try to comfort her about dear Uncle Julius, but withholding the horrendous information of what was really about to happen only made his own mood worse. After so long, he would have to make up an excuse and leave. He hoped somehow she could rationalize and forgive him. He convinced himself that once this terrible situation was over, everything would be fine...even if it was only an illusion.

All Randy could do in the meantime was kill time – but he wished that Wellington would hurry it up. The one instance that Randy had dared broach the subject, he was told to wait. Randy would have no say in the matter. But he wondered what the circumstances might be. Surely, the old man didn't expect him to merely push him off the Cliff. Wellington refused to speak of the way it was to happen, but clearly he would be the one to orchestrate it. All Wellington would say on the matter was words of assurance that Randy wouldn't be suspected of being involved. Both he and the Cliff would see to that.

Randy glanced around his den as he lay on his couch. He once thought the room would bring him so much pleasure. But none was felt. He lay there for awhile trying to get comfortable, but it was no use. When he finally started to welcome the feeling of dozing off, he heard his cell phone ring in the background. His eyes scanned the room finally spotting it over on his bureau. He pulled himself up off the couch and grabbed it. "Hello," he said groggily.

"Hello, Randy."

"Mr. Wellington?" Randy could barely recognize the deep gravelly voice on the other end of the line.

It took all the old man's strength to muster up the words. "Randy, I'm ready."

### CHAPTER 32

### THE BEGINNING OF THE END

They were the words Randy had been simultaneously awaiting and dreading. His heartbeat quickened as he fell back onto the couch listening to the ominous tone of the voice coming through the phone.

"I want you to come over here tomorrow," Wellington continued. "No one will be around. Diane is going into Center City and should be gone until evening. Katy has the day off. And I'm planning on sending Javier on a wild goose chase."

"Okay, Mr. Wellington." Randy couldn't get any other words out of his mouth.

"You can park in the back alley by the garage. Come over at six. Your office hours are until five. Am I correct?"

Randy could not think. The thought of what he and Mr. Wellington were about to do was paralyzing him.

"Are you hearing me?" The raspy voice on the phone sounded irritated. "Randy?"

Randy looked around the room for his bottle of water. He spotted it on the end table and grabbed it. He gulped down a small sip. His mouth had gone completely dry.

"Yes, Mr. Wellington. I hear you. But..."

"No buts," Wellington interrupted. "This is the only way – for both of us."

"Yes, I suppose," Randy sputtered. But as he sat dumbfounded, he searched his mind for a different way out. There wasn't one.

"I'll see you then," the old man said. Randy was left listening to a dial-tone. He thought of phoning Wellington back and calling the whole thing off. But it had gone too far. Wellington was counting on it and for that matter so was he.

But as reality sank in, he started to question if Wellington had the where-with-all to plan tomorrow's heinous excursion. He sank lower into the couch remembering how the Cliff itself made the final choices of what was to happen on its own turf. He stood up and wandered over to the window. There was the Cliff towering over its surroundings like a beacon. He cursed it and then turned away.

The negative emotions he felt were exhausting him...so much so that he fell deeply asleep in his den for several hours. It was already dark when he awoke. He told Rosita he wouldn't be eating dinner, instead secluding himself in his bedroom where he slept soundly until the next morning.

When he came down the stairs for breakfast, Randy tried to act as if it were just like any other day. But his body was stiff and his mind was tortured. As he interacted with his mother and Rosita, he wondered what they would think of him if they knew. They would hate him, he thought. After all, he hated himself. Before he left he told them that he would probably be late this evening getting home.

"Okay, dear, but give me a call later and let me know for sure," Mrs. Belmont said. Little did she know...

He went through his morning appointments by rote, surprising himself by his ability to keep what lay ahead so far in the back of his mind. He couldn't bear to feel any emotion \--- knowing the best way to get through the day was to be as unfeeling as possible. But at lunchtime his thoughts drifted to Diane. Luckily, she was off on errands for the day. He worried how she was going to feel when she would discover that her uncle had died – especially in such a bizarre way -- going off the Cliff. But Randy knew that he would be there to comfort her with the additional strength that the Cliff would provide.

As the afternoon dragged on, the image of Mr. Wellington started to pop into his mind. As bad as the Cliff was making him feel again, he truly wanted the old man to have a change of heart. He decided that he would ask Wellington one more time when they met at the mansion if he really wanted to go through with this morbid plot. Maybe together they could come up with an alternate plan.

However, Mr. Wellington was having no such qualms. Most of his day was spent in his den going over what was soon to take place. He was resolved to see it through. He had arranged it so he would be alone in the house with no one to interfere. He knew he had to keep a clear mind.

By 4:30 pm, he started his final preparations. First, he needed to change his clothes into those that he would wear up to the Cliff. He was walking into his bedroom as a car drove up and stopped in front of his house.

"Okay, now remember what I said. No quizzing Mr. Wellington about the Cliff. Okay?" Jan said.

"Oh, Mom!" Trevor sprang out of the car.

"I mean it, Trevor! Your dad will pick you up on his way home around six-thirty, okay?"

"All right, all right." Trevor waved good-bye as he watched his mother take off to go to work.

He turned and walked down the cracked walkway leading to the side gate. He reached over and pulled up the latch and then followed the path into the backyard. As he rounded the corner, his eyes focused on the sliding glass door off of Wellington's patio. It was closed.

He wondered if anyone was home. Since the curtains were not drawn, he decided to look in, putting his face up to the glass. He saw no one. He grabbed the handle and tried to slide open the door. It was locked. As he turned away and headed towards the garage, he was almost glad nobody was around. There would be no temptation to talk to Mr. Wellington about the Cliff and he would not be going against his mother's wishes.

The side door to the two-car garage was open. He went in to gather his gardening tools. As he squeezed by Wellington's old Cadillac, he noticed that Diane's car was gone – perhaps she had taken her uncle somewhere.

He picked up a rake and some gloves and headed out to where the branches and leaves had been piled up, ready to be put in the trash barrels. He would start in the backyard and then work his way to the front, where there was even more debris to pick up.

It took him almost an hour to rake and fill up two trash barrels of leaves and branches. He walked back towards the garage to look for a third barrel when he thought he saw some movement by the sliding glass door. The sun's glare obscured his view inside. But he figured if anyone was home, surely they would come out and at least say hello.

Mr. Wellington failed to see the boy as he unlocked the sliding door, getting ready for Randy to come in the back way undetected. He shuffled back to his bedroom and opened the drawer of his nightstand. He pulled out his pistol which he had loaded the night before with five bullets. After making sure the lock was on, he slipped it into the deep pocket of his sweater and walked back out to his den and waited. As he sat, his body relaxed and he listened to what he thought was the rustling of the trees in the wind. He didn't realize it was Trevor raking the last of the leaves in the backyard.

The sun was dropping lower and lower in the sky. Trevor looked up as he stopped to catch his breath. Finally the backyard was finished. Now all that was left were the limbs in the front, but some of the long branches that had been cut down wouldn't fit in the remaining barrels. If Javier were there, he could cut them up smaller. He thought of knocking on the back door to see if anyone was home, but decided against it. He could take care of it himself. He traipsed back to the garage to search for some clippers and another trash barrel. Just as he started to look around, his phone rang.

"Hi, Mom," he said after seeing who was calling.

"Hi Trevor. Listen your dad may be late. Can you stay over there for a little bit? He'll pick you up on his way home."

"Mom, I can walk home by myself. Don't you trust me to be home alone?" Trevor asked.

"Of course I trust you," she said. Deep down, she knew she was turning into her own over-protective mother.

"Why is Dad going to be late? What happened? Is it about the Cliff?"

"Trevor! No, it's not the Cliff, or I don't know. I'm not sure," she said backtracking. "Listen when I find out when he can pick you up, I'll call you back. I just wanted to let you know! I'll talk to you in a bit."

Trevor wondered if his mother would ever let him grow up. He realized that she had hung up before he could even tell her that no one at the Wellingtons' was home. She had sounded flustered. He hoped nothing was wrong.

Jan sat nervously at her desk looking out into the hallway of the convalescence center. She had called Joel's cell phone several minutes before, but the voice mail uncharacteristically had kicked in. Then when she phoned the police station asking for him, she had to leave a message. She stressed how important it was for him to get back to her. It was a long five minutes before her phone rang -- he had finally gotten the message.

"What's wrong, honey?" Joel asked.

"Listen, Joel. Something very odd has happened. When I got to work this evening, I found out that Mr. Peabody took a turn for the worse and they had to take him to Kingsbury Hospital."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Joel said. "I hope my talking to him the other day didn't spur that on."

"I don't know. But the reason I'm calling is that the hospital just called back over here. He had gone into a coma last night, but about 30 minutes ago he regained consciousness."

"Well, that's good. Right?"

"Yes. But the doctors are not optimistic. His organs are failing. He doesn't have much time left. In fact, very little time."

Joel listened as his wife rambled on a bit more about his condition.

"So he's been able to talk and has said a few things to the doctors," she continued. "And Joel, he's asking to talk to...you."

"To me?"

"Yes. They just called over here and got me on the phone. He said he has to talk to the detective who spoke to him last week. That's you, Joel. He hasn't talked to any other detective!"

Peabody's surprising request caught Joel off-guard.

"You better go right over. I have a feeling, it'll be too late if you wait," she said.

"You mean go right now?' Joel asked.

"I really don't know how long he has. I mean, the doctor is saying that he may even die tonight. I don't know what it's about. I know it's weird."

"I'm on my way," Joel said. Nothing was too weird for him.

"And Trevor knows you'll be late picking him up at the Wellingtons," she added. "If it's after seven, call me back and I'll take off work and pick him up."

Jan disconnected. She didn't like the way this was shaping up. She dialed Trevor back and told him the plan.

"Okay, Mom," he said still searching for clippers in the garage. "I still have a lot to do over here anyway."

Trevor put his phone in his pocket and continued to look for the elusive pair of clippers. As he searched the garage for them, he heard a car pull up into the alley. Someone got out; he could hear the door slam shut. He heard footsteps and then someone opening the gate to the backyard. He started to get nervous. Diane would have pulled into the garage; Javier and Katy always park out in the front. His mind raced as he started to consider that maybe a burglar could be approaching. He hid behind Mr. Wellington's old car listening to the footsteps coming closer and closer. They went past him and as he peeked out he saw who it was. He relaxed. It was just Uncle Randy entering the house through the sliding glass door.

I guess Mr. Wellington was home after all, he said to himself. Maybe he could talk to him when he finished his work. He would definitely wait until Uncle Randy left, knowing that his uncle seemed to disapprove of Wellington's stories, especially about the Cliff. He could barely see the two men inside as he made his way to the front yard.

Meanwhile, the pseudo-calm that Randy had felt all day had now progressed... into a very agitated state. As soon as Randy proposed abandoning the plan, Wellington bristled.

"We have agreed to this now, Randy," he said. "Neither the Cliff nor I are going to let you back out."

As Wellington sat in his chair he explained his plan. Randy shook his head as he listened. The more he heard, the more absurd it all seemed. First of all, Wellington wanted them to go to the Cliff separately in two cars.

"Mr. Wellington, are you even able to drive?"

"We're doing it my way, Randy. Grant me this and you will be thanking me for years. I've thought it all out and I am up to it."

Randy gazed at the old man. He appeared differently today – not as frail. Randy wondered if somehow he was drawing some strength from the Cliff.

"This way, everyone will think I killed myself -- that I drove up to the Cliff on my own. No one else involved. Trust me on this Randy," Wellington said.

Randy watched as the old man pulled the car keys from his pocket. He did trust him.

"Okay, but you know the road doesn't go up all the way. How are you going to get to the top? You'll have to walk," Randy said trying to be as practical as possible.

"I can make it. I know I can." Wellington never looked more serious.

Randy decided not to protest further. Maybe he could make it. Maybe the Cliff would see to that. He would let the old man play out whatever he wanted. Besides it would be better that way. He wanted to have as little responsibility for it as possible. This was Wellington's plan.

"I'm parked in the back alley, like you told me," Randy said.

They both turned towards the front window when they heard a rustling sound. Randy pulled open the curtains slightly and looked out the corner of the window. There was Trevor throwing branches into a trash can.

"Trevor!" Randy turned to Wellington. "What is he doing here?"

Wellington walked over to the curtain and looked out. "Did he see you come in?" Wellington asked.

"No. I doubt it. I came in the back way."

"Fine. Let's leave right now. He'll never know. We'll go out the back. I'm ready to go."

The urgency to get out of the house made Randy uneasy. He wanted to talk to Mr. Wellington more about what was to happen, but the old man hurried him out. Randy was so paranoid that Trevor would see him, he rushed right along with Wellington to the back gate.

"Okay, we'll meet up as far as we can drive. You'll get there first so just wait for me. If anyone else is up there, just drive back down and I'll meet you where the gravel road begins," Wellington said heading towards the garage.

Randy had no time to argue. He didn't want Trevor to spot him. He opened the gate and hustled to his car looking around to see if anyone was around.

For Wellington it would take more time to leave. He struggled to get into his car and then searched for the garage door opener which was in the glove compartment. He finally pushed the button and the garage door opened. He turned the key in the ignition. It took a couple of tries, until the car sputtered to a start. He put it quickly into reverse looking out the back window to make sure nothing was coming up the alley. There was no one there. Slowly, he backed up. At last, he had his car out of the garage. He turned back around and started to hit the button for the door to close, but was startled as he looked inside the garage.

"Mr. Wellington, where are you going?" Trevor had come back looking for another trash can seconds before Wellington could make his escape.

### CHAPTER 33

### PEABODY'S BOMBSHELL

Wellington's hands trembled as they gripped the steering wheel. Trevor approached the car and then bent over to look inside.

"I've never seen you drive before!" Trevor stared as Wellington struggled to get his bearings. "Wow, I didn't even know if this car really worked!"

"I've been driving many, many years before you were even born. I'm just...I thought I would.....I'm going to the store," the old man stammered believing he needed to offer some sort of explanation.

Trevor had never seen Wellington so jittery. "Do you want me to go to the store and get you something? What store are you going to?"

Too many questions, Wellington thought. "No, no, I need to go myself. Go on back to work. Thank you, Trevor. You're doing a fine job," he said hoping the boy would just leave him alone.

"Are you sure? Maybe you should wait for Diane..." Trevor felt uneasy seeing Wellington behind the wheel.

"No, now just get out of the way. I'm fine."

"You don't have your seatbelt on, Mr. Wellington," Trevor said trying to be helpful.

"I don't need a seatbelt! Now get out of my way," Wellington bellowed. The kid was making him nervous.

Trevor backed away from the car. He knew that normally Katy or Diane would take him wherever he wanted to go. He stood and waited for Wellington to pull away. The old man put his foot on the accelerator hoping to make a quick exit – but he still had the car in reverse. The Cadillac lunged back scraping a post on the other side of the alley. He slammed on the brake and then shifted the car into Drive.

Trevor continued to watch in disbelief as the car made a most ungraceful exit, finally turning onto the street. He stood there for awhile hoping he would not be hearing a crash. He walked back into the garage and picked up another trash can, but the thought of the flustered old man driving a car bothered him.

On his way to the front yard he stopped at the back of the house and knocked hard on the sliding glass door -- hoping that maybe someone was actually inside. No one answered. Maybe Uncle Randy had prescribed some medicine and Mr. Wellington needed to pick it up. He looked to see if Uncle Randy's number was on his phone, but there was no stored number for him. He wished he knew Diane's cell number or Javier's or Katy's. Anyone's! He had the urge to tell somebody about what had just occurred.

He wondered if he should call his parents. But what could they do? Anyway, they were both at work and probably busy. He decided that he would just tell his stepdad about it when he came to pick him up.

Meanwhile, Joel was indeed busy, up to his ears in work. As he pulled up into the hospital parking lot, he wondered just how late he was going to be in picking up Trevor. Something was telling him that whatever this request from Mr. Peabody was about, it was not going to result in a quick visit. He parked his car and dashed through the main entrance. The lady at the reception desk advised him that the patient was in Room 512.

"Hello, I'm Detective Adams," he said showing the nurse on Floor 5 his badge. "I understand Gordon Peabody in Room 512 has been asking for me."

"Yes, Detective!" A doctor standing close by overheard and walked over. He put out his hand. "I'm Doctor Shay. Mr. Peabody has been asking for the police officer that he spoke to recently. Is that you?"

"Yes, sir," Joel said showing him his identification. "My wife works at Kings Acres. She called and told me Mr. Peabody wanted to see me. I talked to him last week."

"He's been very disturbed since he regained consciousness," Dr. Shay said. The two men headed towards Peabody's room. "And most insistent about talking to you. Have you any idea what this is about?"

"No, not specifically. I don't know what he wants. We talked a bit about his career as coroner when we last spoke. I didn't get the impression that he would want to talk with me again."

"Mr. Peabody has no family. No one has come by to see him. He hasn't mentioned anyone else – except you." They stopped outside the door of the room. "Let me warn you of something. I'm afraid Mr. Peabody is near the end. His vital signs are failing. For whatever reason, I think he is waiting to talk to you before he passes. He's exhibiting the type of behavior that some patients do right before they expire."

As they entered Room 512, Joel braced himself. The musky smell of approaching death was heavy in the air. Joel looked at the frail old man lying in the bed, tubes attached to the various parts of his body. He was breathing erratically. Two nurses were in the room attending to him. They backed away as the doctor and Joel approached the bed.

"Mr. Peabody!" Dr. Shay called out. "Mr. Peabody, I brought by Detective Adams. You've been asking for him. He's standing right here with me."

Mr. Peabody twisted his head to the right and stared into Joel's face. Joel looked down at him. He had changed drastically since he had seen him just two weeks before. His face looked pasty and emaciated. His eyes were yellow and outlined with crust. His small-framed body under the sheet quivered.

"Hello, Mr. Peabody," he said. "Remember me. I'm Detective Adams. I understand you wanted to see me."

Peabody lifted his hand up and tried to touch Joel's arm. Joel put his hand out and Peabody gently pulled him closer. His lips were dry and when he tried to speak, nothing came out.

"Do you want some water?" Joel asked seeing a glass on his rollup table.

Peabody nodded. One of the nurses picked up the glass and carefully put it to his mouth. Peabody took in a slight sip which was enough for words to finally pass his lips.

"I need to tell you..." he mumbled.

Joel waited for more words but none were forthcoming. "Yes, Mr. Peabody? What would you like to tell me?"

Mr. Peabody struggled as he tried to speak. Joel put his ear close to Peabody's mouth so he could hear.

"Woman...woman, you...ask," he was barely able to get the words out of his mouth.

Joel thought back at their past conversation. He remembered that he had asked Peabody whether they had ever found out the identity of the Jane Doe who had gone off the Cliff years before – the woman Trevor and he had read about in the newspaper file. He wondered if that was the woman he was trying to speak of.

"The woman? The woman who was found off the Cliff? We talked about her the last time we met. Is that who you mean?"

Peabody nodded. He looked back over at the nurse. He wanted some more water. She again put the glass to his lips and he drank.

"She didn't fall off the Cliff," he said weakly. Joel put his ear even closer to Peabody's mouth as he strained to hear the trembling voice. "And she wasn't really found... there."

Joel wondered if Peabody was using him to make some sort of confession before he died. "She wasn't found there. I see. Where was she found?" he asked going along with his train of thought.

"She was homeless... found...found dead on the road." Joel watched as Peabody shifted uncomfortably under the white sheet that was covering him and his peaceful demeanor drastically changed. "We...lied."

A frightened look overtook the old man's face. "I didn't want to..." His voice suddenly got louder. Joel gradually backed away as he started to rant. Evidently this poor man had been harboring a secret which was haunting him.

"Dear God in heaven....believe me! He told me...he told me...." Peabody started to cough and gag. The doctor moved in and tried to calm him, but it appeared the dying man was gasping for air.

"Nurse, pull him up. Try to get him more upright," the doctor said adjusting the angle of the bed. He looked up at the monitor. A nurse got on each side of the bed and shifted the upper part of their patient's body forward.

"Detective, please wait outside for a moment," Dr. Shay said turning to Joel.

Joel complied immediately and walked out into the hallway, wondering if Peabody would be able to continue in his weakened condition. He looked down at his watch. It was approaching 6:45, which reminded him that he needed to pick up Trevor over at the Wellingtons. He would never get over there by 7:00, as he promised Jan.

He pulled out his phone.

"Hello, Trevor?"

"Yeah? Oh, hi Dad."

"Are you okay over there? I'm running late and it'll be after seven by the time I get over there I think."

"That's okay, Dad. I'm still not done anyway," Trevor said hearing a car pull up into the Wellington garage.

"Okay. Just hang tight until I get there. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure." Trevor ran out to the garage hoping Mr. Wellington had returned. But it was Diane. She was just opening her car door as he came inside.

"Where is Uncle Julius' car?" she asked looking at the empty space where it had always sat.

"Hi Diane. Mr. Wellington drove off about a half hour ago to the store."

"What?! He drove off? By himself?"

"Yeah, and he hit that post over there too on his way out, " he said pointing across the alley.

"Oh, My God! What is he thinking? I don't understand this," she said standing dumbfounded. Trevor felt guilty seeing the worry on her face.

"I asked him if he wanted me to go get something for him," Trevor said. "But he said he needed to go himself."

Diane put her hand on his shoulder. "That was sweet of you, Trevor. I'm sure you couldn't have prevented him from leaving. Once my uncle sets his mind on something, there's no stopping him. I just don't understand why he would do such a thing!"

Her uncle had not driven in months. His eyesight was certainly not very good. The thought of his driving through town frightened her enough – but seeing that it was already dusk made her frantic. She stood in the middle of the garage wondering what to do next.

"Maybe I should go look for him. Did he say what store he was going to, Trevor?"

Trevor shook his head. "No. But I was thinking maybe a drug store because Uncle Randy was here right before Mr. Wellington left."

"Randy was here?" Diane pulled out her phone to call him.

By now Randy was approaching the gravel road which led up to the Cliff. He looked down at the phone in his hand as it rang. Its vibration jolted through his body like an electric shock. He recognized the number. It was Diane.

He pulled to the side of the road and stopped, considering whether or not he should answer. Maybe talking to her could save him. He could confess to everything and this nightmare might finally end.

Diane listened at the other end as Randy's voice mail clicked on. The ringing had stopped on Randy's end. He waited in silence until the red light lit on his phone -- Diane had left a message. But he couldn't bear to hear her voice. He looked up at the Cliff. It was calling him.

Diane put her phone back in her pocket pondering her next step. She looked at Trevor.

"I don't know what would possess Uncle Julius to drive. I think I'll go over to the drug store and see if he's there. I just don't want him to hurt himself or anyone else!"

"Do you want me to call my Dad? He's a policeman," Trevor offered.

"No. We don't need to do that. Your dad has more important things to do, I'm sure," she said forcing a smile.

But at this point his dad was waiting impatiently in the hospital hallway. He paced back and forth alternately wondering what Peabody was trying to tell him and thinking that he might never find out. He went over in his mind what Peabody had just said. The homeless woman he had read about in the article had not really been found off the Cliff. But why would it have been reported that she was found there? Peabody obviously felt guilty about it and was trying to get it off his chest before he died. It was certainly an odd confession.

Dr. Shay appeared at Peabody's doorway. "Okay, you can go back in. He's still asking for you."

Peabody was now in a more upright position. "Come here!" he demanded seeming a bit more alert after his coughing attack.

Joel inched closer to the side of the bed not wanting to miss any of his words, knowing they could be his last. "Take your time, Mr. Peabody," he said.

Peabody shook his head. Perhaps he knew he didn't have much time to take. "No, hear me now. I must tell this," he gasped.

Joel put his hand back on Mr. Peabody's arm. "You can tell me whatever you want, when you're ready."

"The woman from the Cliff. Not the same one," he said softly. Peabody took a couple of breaths. "He swore...he said his wife was sick...I knew she was but... but I didn't want..." He started to get agitated once again and began to cough. The nurse approached with a water glass, but Peabody brushed it away from his face, spilling the water on his bed.

"Take it easy now, take it slow," Joel said. He wanted to try to make sense of Peabody's unconnected ramblings.

Peabody closed his eyes as the nurse sopped up the water off the sheet with a towel. Joel waited for him to regain some more strength. As he looked down at the frail little man in the bed, he wasn't sure if he could really continue. He glanced over at the doctor who had been watching intently.

Peabody opened his eyes wide. He started to thrash around in bed. One of the nurses grabbed hold of his shoulders to calm him. "It's okay, Mr. Peabody."

"I think the strain is too much for him now," Dr. Shay said as he looked at his patient.

Mr. Peabody looked over at Joel once again and reached for his arm. He pulled him down to his face. His belabored breathing pulsated in Joel's ear as he attempted to summon up as much strength as he could. Obviously, Peabody was not done yet.

Joel knew he needed to lead the conversation to make it as easy as possible for him. "You were talking about the unidentified woman who was reported to be found off the Cliff. But she wasn't really found off the Cliff. She was found by the side of the road somewhere."

"Yes!" Peabody nodded his head. "Mayor Wellington made me....go along with it." Peabody struggled to catch his breath.

"Mayor Wellington? Wellington made you go along with what, Mr. Peabody?" The pieces were still not coming together.

"The bodies...swished..." he gurgled. He barely could get out the slurred words.

"Swished?" Joel asked. He thought for a moment trying to figure out what Peabody was trying to say. "You mean switched?"

He scanned his mind about the article he and Trevor had read. Hikers had actually found a body that was beneath the Cliff -- evidently someone who had either jumped off or was pushed off. If it wasn't the homeless woman, then who was it that they found at the site of the Cliff? That was the missing piece of information that the fragile old man needed to release.

"Do you know the identity of the person who was found at the bottom of the Cliff that day?" Joel asked inches from Peabody's ear.

Peabody forced the words out of his mouth. "It was Lenore..." he whispered."Lenore Wellington was found...off the Cliff."

Joel stared at him in disbelief. "Are you sure of this?"

Peabody nodded as his head fell back on his pillow. "Yes." It was the last word he was able to speak. He closed his eyes. His breathing was now very shallow.

Dr. Shay reached for Peabody's hand to take his pulse. He looked up at the bag attached to the I.V. stand. "Increase his dosage by 5 cc's. Nurse, administer some oxygen please and prepare the breathing apparatus."

The nurses sprang into action as Joel backed out of the room. He took one more look at the dying man on the bed. Peabody's final revelation would now give him the freedom to pass on, but his bombshell had left Joel speechless.

### CHAPTER 34

### THE WAITING CONTINUES

Joel stopped in the hallway to gather his thoughts. What he had just heard was going to trigger the opening of a long-forgotten cold case and implicate one of Kingsbury's leading citizens, Mr. Julius Wellington. He jotted down some of the highlights of Peabody's startling admission, all the while questioning how plausible the story actually was. As coroner, Peabody would have had the ability and access to switch the bodies of the dead. And reportedly Wellington as mayor of Kingsbury wielded enormous power and used it to his advantage. But this story was pretty outlandish.

Joel looked back at the open door of Peabody's room. Now that the frail old man had gotten the heavy burden off his chest, he guessed that Kingsbury's ex-coroner would be breathing his last. However, his alleged co-conspirator was very much alive -- and how ironic that his home would be Joel's next stop. It took only ten minutes to drive from the hospital to the old mansion. Diane answered the door immediately when Joel rang the bell.

"Oh, Joel! I'm so glad to see you," she said forgoing the formalities of a greeting.

"Is Trevor okay?" He wondered why he would be so welcomed.

"I'm fine, Dad!" Trevor ran around the corner to greet him. "It's Mr. Wellington...he's missing!"

Joel stood at the door for a moment seeing the obvious worry on their faces.

"Well, I don't know if he's actually missing. Please come in and sit down." Diane led him in to her uncle's den. She motioned for Joel to take a seat on the couch. Trevor sat next to him.

"Uncle Julius took his car and drove off. I wasn't home when he left, but Trevor saw him go," she said.

Trevor nodded in agreement.

"The reason I'm concerned is that he hasn't driven in over six months and he really is in no condition to do so. He's not well. I don't know where he went. He mentioned to Trevor about going to a store. What store I don't know. Anyway, he isn't home yet."

"How long has he been gone?"

Trevor looked at his phone to see the time. "It was 1 hour and 22 minutes ago," he said.

"I know normally that's really nothing," Diane continued. "But there's something very odd about this. I don't know why he would have attempted it...to drive by himself I mean."

"Would he have gone out to maybe visit someone? One of his friends?"

"He hasn't gone visiting anyone by himself in months. I'm sure of that. Joel, he really doesn't have many friends to visit." Diane stood up and paced the floor. "I've been so concerned that for the past half hour or so, I was driving around town looking for him...or his car. I just got back right before you got here."

"Where did you look?"

"Both drug stores... the Safeway and a few other stores. But there's no sign of him. No one has seen him. Everyone knows Uncle Julius so if he had been there they would have recognized him." She grabbed a tissue to help hold back the tears. "Trevor said you were coming over to pick him up and I thought you could help me."

"I'll help in any way I can, Diane," Joel said. "It's too early to file a missing persons report, but let's see what I can do." He reached into his pocket for his writing tablet. "What kind of car is he driving?"

"It's a 1981 or '82 Cadillac. Let's see, it's black." Her mind had suddenly gone blank. "Very big car. It's a 4-door. "

"What's the license plate?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'd have to try to find it somewhere here." She darted over to her uncle's massive desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a stack of papers.

"ULV 349 and it's one of those old black plates, Dad," said Trevor.

Joel looked up from his tablet. "Are you sure of that, Trevor?"

"I see his car all the time in the garage. And when he drove away today I looked at the license plate and remembered the numbers."

A small grin came to Joel's face. "Trevor, did you talk to Mr. Wellington before he left?"

"He didn't come out today when I came over. I didn't think anyone was home for a long time. I didn't see him until he was starting to drive away. He was real nervous too."

"Here we go," Diane interrupted, coming across an old auto insurance paper. "Okay, it's a 1981 Cadillac El Dorado and license....ULV 349," she said.

Trevor nodded proudly.

Joel took out his phone to call the police station. "Hi, Tony. Who's on duty right now?"

He listened as Tony told him of the two black and whites that were currently on patrol. "Have them be on the look-out for a black 1981 Cadillac with the California black license plate ULV 349. It's Julius Wellington. I'm here with his niece and she feels he shouldn't be driving. Might be a danger. If anyone sees him, please detain him and notify me. If his car is parked somewhere, let me know also. Okay?"

Joel gave Diane a reassuring wink. "Thanks," he said back into the phone before he disconnected. "Okay. They'll look for him. If they find him, I'll be notified."

"I can't thank you enough, Joel." Diane took a deep breath and leaned against the back of the desk chair.

"In the meantime, anybody else you can call?"

"I already called Katy. She's on her way over, but she hasn't seen him. It was her day off. I also talked to Javier who told me he talked to Uncle Julius this morning, but my uncle told him not to come over like he was scheduled to do. This would have been after I left."

"Interesting," Joel said. "Why would he say that, especially if you and Katy weren't going to be here? Is he okay to stay by himself all day?"

"Well, not really. But sometimes Uncle Julius wishes not to be bothered, you know. He doesn't want to talk to anybody." Diane paused as she thought about how cantankerous he had become. "But to drive off like he did, something was going through his mind," she continued, arousing her own suspicions.

"You know of anybody else that talked to him today?"

"Yes, I guess Randy did. I've already called him, but had to leave a message and haven't heard back. Trevor ran into him over here right before Uncle Julius left."

"What? Randy was here?" He turned back to his son. "Did you talk to Randy, Trevor?"

"No, I just saw him, Dad. I didn't talk to him. I was outside. He probably didn't even see me."

"Well we need to speak to Randy," Joel said. "Whatever his visit was about could have spurred your uncle's leaving."

Diane didn't know what to think. "Randy's not answering his cell or the afterhour's number at his office. I called his house too and he hasn't come home yet. So I left word with Mrs. Belmont for him to call me as soon as he got in."

"Then all we can do now is wait. One of the patrolmen will probably spot your uncle. In the meantime, try not to worry, okay?" Joel looked at her and realized that would probably be impossible. "Trevor and I will stay with you awhile."

"Thank you, Joel." Diane clutched her phone in her hand as she said in a half whisper, "I'm sure Randy will call me back any minute now."

But as Randy sat in his car, he had no intention of calling Diane back. He looked over at the old man who was sitting beside him. Mr. Wellington had transferred into Randy's car and had parked in the hidden turnout where they were waiting. Three empty cars at the end of the gravel road stood between them and their mission. They were now waiting and watching for those three cars to go back down the hill – Wellington patiently and Randy impatiently.

"Let's forget this tonight, Mr. Wellington," Randy said. "It's going to be dark in a little while." The waiting was excruciating for him –sitting there dwelling on what was to come. This was not the way to do it! It needed to be done quickly so there would be no time to think – no time for it to sink in.

"No! It's tonight, Randy. Tonight!" Wellington would hear none of it. "Those cars will be coming down soon...you'll see. Once the sun is almost down."

Randy wasn't so sure. He looked over at Wellington, wondering if he was in the process of preparing for his death. Or maybe he was already prepared – and that was the reason that he wouldn't give up tonight. The old man's grim expression was hard to read.

"Mr. Wellington, what is the plan? I'd like to know how this is going to happen..." he said unable to stop obsessing about the situation.

"The Cliff will make the choices, my boy. Don't worry about a thing."

Randy knew from past experience that what Mr. Wellington said was true. But the old man's annoying composure was making Randy more antsy. After several minutes he could no longer bear it. He reached for the door handle and leapt out of the car.

"I can't just sit in there!" he yelled. He was incredulous at how the old man was handling this. How could Wellington be so tranquil while he stood outside feeling like he was about to jump out of his skin? It was the same sensation he felt before he had brought Ginny and Bart to the Cliff – but now the gnawing feeling inside seemed three times worse.

"Randy, come here!" Wellington motioned him back to the car. Randy leaned over and looked him in the eye. "I understand. I'm feeling it too," the old man said. "It hurts so badly... deep inside me that I want to die right now, right here. I want to tear out my insides." The intensity in his voice stunned Randy. "But we've got to hold it together, boy."

It was the noise of an approaching car that broke Randy's gaze into Wellington's eyes. Randy ducked down behind the car just in time as two cars passed by going down the hill. His head peeked back up, level with the car window. The end to this was finally approaching.

"Get back in the car, Randy. You don't want anybody to see you."

"You see, my boy. It won't be long," Wellington said as Randy climbed back in. He slipped his hand in his pocket to check if his gun was still safely ensconced. "The last car will be coming down soon."

Even though Randy had calmed down a little bit, he still needed to be distracted from this agonizing wait. He looked down at his phone. After Diane's call, he had turned it off, not wanting to be reminded of anything from the outside world. But now he turned his phone back on. The red light flashed three times, indicating that three messages were waiting. He checked the numbers. Two from Diane and one from his mother. In his hurry to get over to Wellington's he had forgotten to phone her to let her know for sure he would be late this evening. He couldn't call now; he was way too jumpy to have to deal with her questions -- better for her to just wonder.

Meanwhile, the waiting at the mansion was becoming too grueling for Diane. Another half hour had passed and there was still no sign of her uncle. Neither police unit had spotted him nor his car. Joel sensed her growing panic as she paced back and forth in the room. Every few minutes she pushed the curtains back and looked out the window as she watched the sun go lower and lower in the sky.

"Do you want some more coffee?" Katy asked. Joel and Diane both shook their heads. Katy had arrived twenty minutes earlier and was trying her best to help alleviate the tense atmosphere. "You want something, Trevor?"

"No," he said even though he was starting to get hungry. She left the sad trio in the room.

Joel had been confident that the patrolmen would have found the old man by now, but as the minutes dragged on, he was sensing that something was very wrong. "Do you suppose he would have driven out of town for any reason? Maybe to Center City..." Joel asked.

"I don't know why he would drive anywhere. So I don't know." The worry had exhausted Diane; the coffee had made her jittery.

"Maybe Mr. Wellington went up to the Cliff?" Trevor blurted out. "Did your guys look up there, Dad?"

Diane looked at the young boy. "Well, as much time as Uncle Julius spends on the patio staring up at it and talking about it, that'd be a possibility. But Trevor, he could never get there. Isn't it just a gravel road? He wouldn't have attempted that."

Joel doubted it too, but made a mental note to ask the patrolmen to check the Cliff area the next time they call in. In light of what he had heard earlier about Wellington and the Cliff, the thought might not be so far-fetched. Trevor's comment put his mind back to Peabody and the mystery of Wellington's deceased wife.

"How about the cemetery, Diane? Maybe he could have driven to the cemetery to visit his wife's grave," Joel asked.

"Aunt Lenore wasn't buried. Her ashes are in the urn under her picture in the living room," she said.

Trevor cringed. He had always been uncomfortable when he walked through that room. Every time he looked at Mrs. Wellington's portrait, he would experience a creepy sensation. He never knew why, but he felt some sort of connection to her.

"Just a thought." Joel stood up and wandered over to the archway to take a peek at the portrait in the living room. Trevor followed him. "Did you ever meet your Aunt Lenore?" Joel asked.

"No, she died several years before I was born."

"Did your uncle speak of her often?"

"Every once in awhile. He loved her very much. I know that. She had been sick for a couple of years I believe before she passed away. He took such good care of her."

As Joel listened to her talk so dearly of her uncle, he hoped that what he had heard at the hospital was not true. It would break her heart. He glanced back in the living room and saw that Trevor was inches away from Mrs. Wellington's urn.

"What are you doing, Trevor? Come on back in here!"

Trevor turned quickly breaking out of the strange fixation he had found himself in. He wasn't sure what was drawing him towards Mrs. Wellington. He ran back to his dad.

Joel looked at his watch. "Why don't you try Randy again?" Joel asked.

She took a deep breath. "This isn't like him, not to call me back."

"Could be he and your uncle are together..." Joel said. It was just too coincidental that both were nowhere to be found.

They looked up to see Katy entering the room. There was a distraught look on her face.

"What's wrong, Katy?" Diane rushed to her as Katy opened her hands to reveal a small carton.

Diane read aloud the words that were written on it. "Remington Pistol and Revolver.... Cartridges. Where did you find this?" Diane cried out.

"You know I don't know why I thought about it..." Katy said. The alarm in her voice was unmistakable. "I'm not sure your uncle ever told you, Diane. But he keeps a gun in his bed stand. He showed it to me once. He's always told me that there were no bullets in it."

"I knew he had a gun in here somewhere," Diane said. "I never wanted to know where. I'm afraid of guns."

"Well, the gun is missing. It's not in the drawer," Katy said turning her attention to Joel. "I just checked. He always kept it there. I looked through his bureau too just now and there's no sign of it. But I did find this box."

Joel took the box from her. "Some of the bullets have been taken out."

"Oh, my God!" Diane sank to the couch and started to shake.

"I think we need to check the entire bedroom and look for the gun," Joel said looking at Katy. "Stay in here with Diane, Trevor."

Katy and Joel dashed into the bedroom and rummaged through Wellington's things. After ten minutes, the bedroom had been torn apart.

"It's not here," Katy said giving up the search. "I have a feeling he has it with him."

"Katy," Joel said stopping her before she could leave the room. "Was Mr. Wellington suicidal?"

Katy looked at him and nodded. "He could be."

Katy left Joel alone in the room. His phone rang.

"Did you find the gun?" Diane asked as Katy re-entered the den.

"No, sweetie, we didn't," Katy said. "But Joel just got a call. Maybe it's good news and they found Mr. W."

They waited for another few minutes in silence until Joel appeared at the doorway. Diane looked at him hoping it was the news she wanted to hear. But she found no comfort from his frown.

"There's still no sign of him. His car hasn't been seen either. Unfortunately, our police units are now over at James Sporting Goods. There's been a fire and the roof of the store has collapsed. There's been some injuries, so they've stopped looking now for your uncle. I'm afraid."

"Then I'm going to go out and look," Diane said springing to her feet.

"We need to speak to Randy," Joel said to everyone. "He was here. He would know your uncle's frame of mind."

'"Randy! Where are you?" Diane called out into the air. "Why aren't you here with me? I need you!"

She collapsed back onto the couch in tears. Katy rushed to her side. As Joel looked down at her, he knew that Randy and Mr. Wellington must be together.

"I'm going to try Mrs. Belmont one more time," Diane said breaking away from Katy's arms. She scanned the room for her phone and spotted it on the far table.

She ran over to it and also grabbed her keys. Everyone watched as Diane's trembling fingers clumsily pressed the buttons on her phone. She put it up to her ear and waited.

"Hello?" said Mrs. Belmont in an irritating sing-song voice.

"It's Diane again, Mrs. Belmont," Diane panted. She could no longer keep her feelings subdued. "Have you heard from Randy? I have to talk to him!" Her voice got louder as she spoke.

Mrs. Belmont rolled her eyes. "He'll be here any minute dear. I told you I'd tell him to call you when I see him!" Mrs. Belmont put her hand over the mouthpiece. "That girl's going to drive him crazy acting like this every time he doesn't call her back!" she said to Rosita. "Why don't you just come over here and wait, dear," she said taking on a sickeningly sweet tone, "...if it's so important that you have to talk to him now!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Belmont." Diane was so distraught that her future mother-in-law's patronizing voice didn't register. "I'm just worried about my uncle and I think maybe Randy is with him. At least I'm hoping so..." she said starting to sob.

Mrs. Belmont didn't want to hear any more. "Just come over if you want. I'm sure he'll be here by then. Good-bye, dear."

Diane disconnected. "I'm going over to the Belmont's. His mother said they expect him any minute."

"Listen, Diane. I'll drive you over there," Joel said. "You're too upset to drive yourself. And I want to leave Trevor off at his grandmother's. Then I can drive around and look for your uncle."

"Thank you, Joel. Randy can drive me back over here...hopefully with my uncle with us! Katy, can you stay here just in case Uncle Julius calls?"

"Of course, dear." Katy helped her put on her coat.

"I'll feel much better when I see Randy. I just have a feeling Uncle Julius and he are together. She started to press the buttons on her phone frantically. "Let me try Randy one more time," she said as she, Joel, and Trevor raced down the front walk. "Please Randy, please....be with him."

Randy was with him, sitting right next to him as the third car made its way past the hidden turnout. The two men looked at each other. The coast was now clear.

Randy's heart jumped into his throat. He could feel the newly charged energy of the Cliff immediately. He welcomed its familiar feeling -- that would make what they were about to do so much easier. He took a deep breath taking the energy into his lungs.

As he pulled his car out onto the gravel road, Randy could feel his phone vibrate in his pocket. He took it out and looked down at the number on the screen. It was another call from Diane. This time he turned off his phone for good.

### CHAPTER 35

### JOEL'S DISCOVERY

Wheel of Fortune blared from the TV. Mrs. Belmont was busy admonishing the contestants for picking the wrong letters as Rosita walked to the front window. A car could be heard pulling into the driveway.

"I have Dr. Randy's dinner in the oven all ready for him," she said.

Mrs. Belmont was not paying any attention to her. Rosita peered out the window only to be disappointed as she saw the three people hurrying up the front walk. She recognized them right away and opened the front door.

"I don't see Randy's car," Diane said to her as she rushed inside.

"Dr. Randy not home yet, ma'am. He still late," Rosita said. "Not heard from him. We were hoping your car was him."

"Oh, no!" Diane stopped to catch her breath. "I thought his mother said he was expected right away!" On the ride over, she had talked herself into thinking Randy would surely be home when they got there.

"Well...he expected an hour ago," Rosita said.

Mrs. Belmont sat absorbed in her favorite program as they all entered the living room.

"Mrs. Belmont, you said Randy was on his way," Diane said interrupting her concentration.

She looked up. "Oh hello, Diane, dear," she said. "Trevor!" She brightened up immediately as he strode in. "Joel, what are all of you doing here?"

"We're looking for Randy, Mom," Joel said. "Haven't heard from him yet, huh?"

"No, not a word."

"You gave me the impression that you had talked to him and he was on his way home," Diane said.

"I did?" Mrs. Belmont turned back to the TV set. She was not offering any explanations.

Joel looked at Diane. He knew how vague his mother-in-law could be.

Diane was having none of it. "Yes, you did!" she said stepping in front of the television blocking Mrs. Belmont's view.

Mrs. Belmont raised her hand and motioned Diane to move out of the way. Diane reluctantly moved to the left. "Blarney Stone," Mrs. Belmont blurted out.

"What?" Diane said looking down at her.

"Blarney Stone. I always guess it before they do!" she said watching Vanna finally reveal the completed puzzle.

"Mrs. Belmont, this is serious. My uncle is missing and so is Randy!"

"Please dear. Calm down, would you! Randy does this sometimes. You know my son. Or if you don't, you'll find out soon enough. He gets involved with something and time slips away from him. As for your uncle, I have no idea where he could be. Nor do I care. Excuse me." She scurried towards the downstairs bathroom during the commercial break. "Make yourselves at home!" she said changing her tone into her superficial cheery voice.

Diane stood seething by the TV set as she glared at Mrs. Belmont exit the room.

"Welcome to the family!" Joel quipped, hoping Diane might crack a smile.

"How can she be like that?" Diane said in disbelief. She sank onto the couch and was again close to tears.

Rosita saw how troubled she was and sat down beside her. "Doctor Randy said this morning he might be late. But usually he call on phone and says when he coming so I can have his dinner ready. But tonight no call." She looked up at Joel and shrugged. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you, Rosita," he said.

"Don't worry. His mother right about one thing. He does this before, many times. Come home late," Rosita said rising from the couch. She turned her attention to Trevor and smiled. "You hungry?"

"Yeah!" Trevor said.

"Come on then," she said. "How 'bout you two? Want something to drink? Eat?"

Diane looked up and gave her a warm smile. "No, thank you Rosita," she said as both Joel and she shook their heads.

Rosita headed towards the kitchen with Trevor right behind. But he turned back. First he wanted to make sure he wasn't going to miss anything.

"Dad, can I go with you to look for Mr. Wellington, please." He knew to put in the please. This would be a hard sell.

"No, son," Joel said without a second thought.

"Come on, Dad. Let me go. First we should go to the Cliff and..."

"Absolutely not, Trevor. You're staying here with your grandmother until either your mom or I pick you up. I mean it."

Trevor knew he meant it, but he didn't like it. He wanted to be in on the action. "I don't see why not. I could help..." he mumbled as he pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen.

"I don't understand it, Joel," Diane said. "Mrs. Belmont made it sound like Randy would be home any minute." She took a tissue from her purse. "I guess I had my hopes up."

"Diane, let me give you some advice from one in-law of the Belmont clan to a future one about to come into the family. If you want any information, don't ask my mother-in-law. Ask Rosita. Her English may not be as good, but you can get a clearer answer!"

Diane nodded. She found that out tonight. "This is just very strange, Joel," Diane said. "Randy would have called me by now. I've left him three messages."

"I'd bet a good amount of money that he's with your uncle....somewhere...and that's probably a good thing." He hoped that he could somehow ease Diane's mind. "Think about it. According to Rosita, Randy had pre-planned coming home late. Trevor saw Randy at your uncle's place shortly before your uncle left. He was already off work. So it could follow that he and your uncle had something going on that they had planned ahead of time."

"Joel, they would have told me."

"Maybe it's a surprise for you."

"Then I'll murder them for putting me through this!" Diane shook her head. "No, really, why would Uncle Julius drive himself. He's too ill to drive and Randy knows that too."

Joel knew it was useless to try to console her. She wouldn't relax until she saw them with her own eyes. "Like I told you, I'm going to circle around town," he said. "And I'll look for them both." He glanced out the window and saw that the sun was just about to set.

"What does Randy drive? A Lexus?"

"Yes, a blue Lexus," Diane said. "Aqua blue, but I don't know the license plate."

"Okay. I'm going to make a call to the station. I'll be right back," he said reaching for his phone. "And then I'll take a drive around."

Joel slipped out into the foyer as Mrs. Belmont came back into the room.

"What'd I miss?" she asked.

"Oh, Joel is calling the police station again. Then he's going to go out and search for them," Diane said.

"No, I mean what did I miss on this!" she said pointing to the television set.

She took her spot in the chair next to the TV ignoring Diane's obvious distress. If there was ever any doubt in Diane's mind of whether she would get along with her future mother-in-law, it was now obvious -- she wouldn't.

"Rosita said that Randy told you he might be late tonight. Did he say why?" Diane asked hoping for any clue.

"Dear, I don't intrude into my son's life."

Diane knew that wasn't true. "What's the use?" she said under her breath. She would accompany Joel on his search – before she said something to Randy's mother that she might regret.

Joel stood in the foyer. He searched on his phone for the number he wanted to call. It was not the police station. He already knew they had combed almost every strip mall, store, and street in the small town. However, they had not checked the Cliff. Joel was beginning to think that Trevor's astute suggestion of looking there wasn't so crazy, especially in light of Peabody's story about Mrs. Wellington. A new scenario started to form in his mind. Perhaps the old man was so depressed that he might want to follow his wife off the Cliff...with his doctor, Randy, somehow involved.

Joel pressed call on his phone. After several rings he finally heard the familiar woman's voice on the other end.

"Hello, Skylark? It's Detective Adams. I hope I'm not disturbing you."

On the contrary, she was delighted that he had called. "Oh, hello there!"

"I was just wondering if you had seen any activity on the Cliff this evening," he said.

"Not much. Just the normal sightseers up there today. No wooshes! Thank God for that, huh?"

Joel chuckled. "Yes, the fewer wooshes the better."

Joel could hear the opening of a sliding glass door and then several meows. "Hold on. I'm going to go out on my patio and look right now," Skylark said. "I come out here every day around this time. Right as the sun is setting. It's so beautiful. Hello, Pandora, honey..." Her calm voice contrasted with the tension of his own situation.

"Doesn't look like anyone is parked there. But it's really hard to see much. The brush is so thick up there this time of year. I do see some dust from the road. Looks like there's one car coming up towards the dead end."

"Really, you can see that? What kind of car is it? Can you tell?"

"Oh no, it's way too far away for that. I wouldn't know anyway. But I'm very good with colors." She paused for a few seconds. "It's aqua blue."

The aqua blue car came to a halt at the dead end of the gravel road. Randy shut off the engine. His bloodshot eyes peered over at the man who he had known all his life. They sat for a moment without speaking. As much as he needed to get rid of the rancid feeling that the Cliff was dealing out to him at the moment, Randy wanted to give Wellington one last opportunity to opt out.

"Mr. Wellington, is this really how you want to end this?"

His old friend's sad expression made Randy think he might have changed his mind. "It's the only way, my boy," he said after a long delay. His eyes welled up.

Randy watched a tear roll down the old man's cheek. He had never seen him display much emotion. As he witnessed Wellington's touch of humanity, the horrible sensation Randy was feeling from the Cliff no longer mattered. He didn't want to do this to his friend.

But Wellington would not succumb to any sentimentality. He took a deep breath and opened the car door. He swung both feet out, feeling the power of the Cliff's energy as they touched the ground. In one strong motion, he lifted himself up with the help of his cane and was standing upright. He slammed the car door and was on his way, not looking back. Randy had his answer. He knew he had a job to do. He got out of the car and caught up with him...and they silently trekked their way up the hill.

Randy marveled at how the old man was forging up the incline. After several minutes, he broke the silence. "I haven't seen you move like this since I came back to town, Mr. Wellington."

Wellington showed his first smile of the day and stopped. "It's intoxicating, isn't it?"

Randy smiled back. He could also feel the familiar euphoria that the old man was talking about. Only a few unlucky souls could tap into the sensation that the Cliff emoted. As they stood on its surface, their mutual understanding of its mysterious power united them like nothing before. They knew they could do whatever it wanted them to do. The Cliff was welcoming back old friends.

"Give me a few minutes," Wellington said. He looked out into the distance. His posture became more upright and the deep lines seemed to be eradicated from his face. Randy stared at him -- seeing years that had taken their toll vanish out of Wellington's being.

He let Wellington enjoy himself for what seemed like an eternity. Meanwhile, Randy became lost in his own thoughts. He theorized that if he sacrificed the old man, the Cliff would offer him the opportunity to live for another 20 or 30 years worry-free – after all he truly loved Mr. Wellington like a father. And according to the legend that he now understood, love was the Cliff's real requirement for long-lasting relief.

It was turning dark when the two men descended back into the reality of why they were there.

"Mr. Wellington, we've got to move on," Randy said, reaching in his pocket to make sure he had his LED flashlight.

"Yes, of course." Wellington started again up the hill. "We must act before anyone finds us."

They sensed that there were now people looking for them. As they climbed higher and higher, their awareness of Diane's concern permeated their minds -- even though physically she was far away, sitting helplessly on the couch in the Belmont living room waiting to start the search for them with Joel.

"Thank you, Skylark. Call me if you hear anything! Okay?" Joel said into the phone.

"Will do," she said.

Skylark's mention of the aqua blue car on the Cliff brought to Joel's mind past suspicions about his brother-in-law. Although he had no exact reason to believe he had anything to do with the recent Cliff deaths, Randy had figured quite prominently in his investigations. He had been with both victims, shortly before their deadly plunges – Ginny at the Diamond Bar and Bart in his medical office. In fact, he remembered that Katy had mentioned Randy coming in late the exact night Ginny was killed.

No doubt there were hundreds of blue cars in Kingsbury, but he wasn't sure how many were aqua blue. He peered down the hallway towards Randy's den. He could make a quick search in there to see if he could find anything that would indicate where Randy and maybe even Mr. Wellington might be and why. If he found nothing, his next stop would surely be the Cliff.

He looked back into the living room. Mrs. Belmont was caught up in her TV viewing and Diane was staring into space. He figured Trevor and Rosita were in the kitchen. He crept quietly down the hallway and opened the closed door of Randy's den. His eyes scanned the room before they focused on the desk in the corner.

He walked over and sat behind it. Maybe Randy wrote down some directions or a name of a place that he had planned to go. He combed through a few scraps of note paper that were on top of the desk, but found nothing pertinent. He opened the top drawer and looked in, hoping to find anything that might help. He found nothing. He checked the waste basket for any tossed paper that could give an indication to his whereabouts.

He stood up and wandered over to the sofa, at the same time scanning the coffee table and end tables for any possible clue. Nothing stood out. He wasn't going to be so lucky he thought. He made one last look around the room.

As he started to leave, he noticed the door to the walk-in closet was open and decided to take one last shot at finding something...anything. He looked in. Rows and rows of jackets on hangers, multiple sweaters on the shelves, at least thirty pairs of shoes and slippers. The man can have whatever he wants, Joel thought as he looked at the vast amount of clothing. And this was just the closet in his downstairs den!

He looked on the floor at all the shoes. A purse, stuck in the back corner, caught his eye. It appeared to be a woman's purse. He squatted down to study it closer. Maybe it belonged to Randy's mother. But it seemed very out-of-place, a factor that always aroused his suspicions during a search.

He picked it up and looked inside. He spotted a wallet that was partially open. There was an ID. The woman's face looked familiar. As he read the woman's name, the initial shock made him re-shift his weight so not to lose his balance. It was the ID of Virginia Stewart. His brother-in-law had the missing ID of the murdered woman on the Cliff.

### CHAPTER 36

### THE TOP OF THE CLIFF

Joel needed to work fast. He reached for the phone in his pocket and snapped three pictures of Ginny's ID. After slipping the wallet back in the purse, he took several more shots as it lay exactly how he had found it in Randy's closet. He stood up and peeked out into the room, checking to see if anyone was watching him.

As he took one more glance at the purse, he thought of the ramifications of his unauthorized search. They were enormous to both the investigation itself....and to his family. He thought of how this would affect both Jan and Diane. He hoped that Randy would have some sort of explanation for their sakes. However, such incriminating evidence would be hard to explain away.

He would have the police issue a search warrant in the morning. But all of that could wait for now. His attention turned to the Cliff. He needed to get up there right away. More than ever, he believed the aqua blue car that Skylark had seen was Randy's and feared it tied into Wellington's disappearance.

He quietly exited the den and walked quickly to the living room. Diane was fidgeting on the couch while Mrs. Belmont sat engrossed in her TV. Rosita and Trevor were munching away at the nearby dining room table.

"Diane, I'm heading out." His sudden entry into the room startled her. "Trev, stay with Grandma," he yelled over to him. He looked over at Diane. "I'll call you later."

"Wait a minute!" Diane said jumping off the couch. She was hoping that Joel's lengthy absence from the room indicated some good news. "Did you find out anything new?"

"No, nothing on your uncle," he said. Her despondent look made him want to tell her more. "But an aqua blue car has been spotted near the Cliff..."

"The Cliff?" Trevor exclaimed from the table across the room.

"That could be Randy's car at the Cliff," Diane said. Any sighting of either Randy or Uncle Julius was good news to her, no matter where it was.

"Why would Randy be at the Cliff for heaven's sake?" Mrs. Belmont asked suddenly deciding to join the conversation.

"Oh, Dr. Randy loves the Cleeef!" Rosita said. "Remember, he sits out on the patio all the time, looking up at it," she said ignoring Mrs. Belmont's scowl.

"It could be his car." Joel headed towards the front door. "I'm going up there now to check it out."

"I'm going with you," Diane declared as she grabbed her purse. "Uncle Julius could be with him."

"No." Joel shook his head. "I'm sorry, Diane. I don't think that would be a good idea." He no longer knew what he might be encountering. "I'd rather you stay here and I'll call you as soon as I find out anything. I promise."

"Why don't you want me to go?" she asked surprised at the rebuff. "What's going on, Joel?"

Joel looked around the room. They all were wondering the same thing. "I need to speak with you...alone," he said taking Diane's arm.

All eyes were on them as they walked to the sliding glass door and then out onto the back patio. Once they were outside, Joel closed the door tightly. He wanted no one else to hear.

"Diane, I need to make this quick. Randy could be in some trouble. It's dangerous for you to go with me if he's on the Cliff right now." The seriousness in his voice frightened her.

"Trouble? What kind of trouble is he in?"

"I can't go into it. You've got to trust me on this," he said trying to exit without her.

"You can't tell me something like that and think I'm going to just sit here and wait." She pulled him back. "If Randy's in trouble, I need to go to him!"

"As a police officer, I need your cooperation," Joel said trying another ploy to dissuade her.

"Joel, please take me with you. You're not officially on duty. You're helping me as a friend," she pleaded.

Diane knew by his look that he was not giving in. "I'll go on my own, if you won't take me." She turned away from him and reached for the door handle.

"Diane, hold on!" he said grabbing her hand. "This could be very risky. You could be put in an unsafe situation."

Diane could scarcely contain her emotions. "Randy and Uncle Julius are the two most important people in my life. I have no one else but them. If something happens to them while I sit here and do nothing, I would never forgive myself...or you. I don't care what kind of trouble Randy's in. Please, Joel...You take me to him. And he'll take me to Uncle Julius."

He looked up at the Cliff towering over them in the background. There was no more time to waste trying to talk her out of it. "Listen! No matter what happens, you can't interfere – you could get hurt," he said. "We need to get there quick!"

The urgency in his response set Diane in motion. She flung the sliding door open and ran inside, breezing past Mrs. Belmont.

"Where's she going in such a rush?" Mrs. Belmont asked as she watched Diane fly out the front door. "Joel, what's going on?"

"Take care of Trevor until Jan or I come and pick him up. If you hear from Randy, call my cell right away," Joel said darting out behind her offering no explanations.

"But, what..." Mrs. Belmont could only get out a couple words before he slammed the door on the way out. Rosita came bolting out of the kitchen to see what the ruckus was about.

"Did they leave?" she asked. "What happened?"

"Yes, they left," Mrs. Belmont answered in a troubled tone. "Oh, Rosita..." She looked back over at the TV as Vanna mindlessly turned over a few more letters. "Now I'm worried..." The importance of Wheel of Fortune was finally put into perspective.

Diane and Joel jumped into the car. Joel hastily backed out of the driveway and within seconds they were on the street headed for Gateway Avenue which led to the Cliff. He reached over to turn on his police radio.

"Hello, Dispatch, any units available to go up to Spirits Cliff? Possible criminal activity. I'm headed there now and I may need some back-up."

"All units are at James Sporting Goods," blared back the radio voice. "Will check for free unit. Over."

"Thanks. Over."

"Criminal activity? Joel!" Diane was startled to hear him use the term. "What do you think is going on up there?"

"I'm not sure," he said. They made a sharp left onto Gateway Avenue and were immediately greeted by one of the many red lights the street was famous for. Joel stopped at it deciding to not yet turn on the siren which had been installed discreetly in his unmarked car.

"Joel, are you going to tell me what this is all about? Why would Randy be on the Cliff?"

Joel looked over at the distressed woman who sat beside him. He had watched her slowly unravel as the evening had progressed. "I don't know why he would be at the Cliff. I'm following a lead that a car similar to his was seen there. And like you, I'm guessing he and your uncle are together."

"I can't imagine why they'd be up there especially at this hour," she said glancing at the clock on Joel's dashboard. "Although Uncle Julius does have a fascination about the Cliff. I've seen him sitting on the back porch staring in its direction for hours." She looked up at it as they waited for the light to change. "It is interesting, I guess. Looks like a face sometimes."

"You've heard the superstitions about it, haven't you?"

Diane thought for a moment. "You know. I guess I have. Only because I've overhead my uncle talk about it...to Trevor. The other day I came in while he was talking about some sacrifice up there or something or other. My uncle tells stories that...well...let me just say he likes to tell crazy stories sometimes. He's a real character." Her face turned sad again. "I'm so worried about him, Joel."

"We're going to find him. Don't worry," he assured her, hitting the accelerator as the light finally turned green.

"Does Randy ever mention the Cliff to you?"

"No, not really. I know Jan told me that he had a real thing about it as a kid. I know Randy has some quirks." She let out her first laugh of the evening. "But I love him, quirks and all." The thought of her future husband reminded her that Joel had still not revealed what kind of trouble he was in. "Joel, please tell me what is going on with Randy?"

He looked at her worried expression and couldn't help but feel sorry for her. "Listen to me, Diane. First of all, don't mention this to anyone. This is strictly confidential." He could only guess that she would become more unglued when she heard what he had to tell her.

"Diane, we both know Randy...very well. Anyway I thought we did. But tonight I found something that's very incriminating...something that leads me to think Randy could be extremely dangerous."

"Dangerous? What are you talking about?"

"I found something in Randy's den that links him to Ginny Stewart," he said deciding to divulge the information one bit at a time.

"Ginny Stewart?" It took her several moments to recall the name. "You mean the lady whose body was found off the Cliff?"

"Yes, both Jan and Randy knew her," he said. "Did he ever talk to you about her?"

"Ginny Stewart?" She stared ahead as she thought for a moment. "No, not really," she said. "But I know he didn't like her." She flashed back at their first date at the Diamond Bar. "Tell me, what was it you found?"

"Diane...I have no idea how it could have gotten there but...I found Ginny Stewart's purse in Randy's downstairs closet."

"What? In his closet? What were you doing in Randy's downstairs closet?"

"After I heard that Randy's car could be up on the Cliff, I just wanted to look around. I stumbled on it. I don't know why he would have it...other than he was involved with her in some way." Joel noticed her disbelieving expression. "Now there could be some reasonable explanation, but I can't think of what it could possibly be, other than, well...I mean why would he have it?"

"No...no! Joel, this is... this is impossible. It's inconceivable. There's got to be a logical reason why Ginny Stewart's purse would be there...." She racked her brain for the elusive reason. Then she remembered. "Oh my God, Joel! Was it a red purse with a shoulder strap?"

"Yes," Joel answered. "How did you know that?"

"I think I saw that purse in Randy's car." The brake lights on the truck in front of them lit up her horrified face. They stopped for the next red light. "It was the same night we saw you at the Diamond Grill. It was under Randy's seat and I got my leg wrapped up into it when I got in."

"And that was the night after Ginny's body was found," Joel said watching the light change. He pushed his foot down on the accelerator.

"But he said that was June's purse. His nurse..." she continued.

Joel didn't like the sound of this. "I found a wallet that belonged to Ginny Stewart in the red purse in Randy's closet. It had her driver's license and a couple credit cards with her name on them. So I can only assume it's hers." He looked over again at her troubled face. "Tomorrow, I'm going to order a search at his house to recover it and I'll ask you to identify it—if it's the one you saw in his car on that night."

Diane sat silently for a moment while the information was starting to sink in. She pushed her head back on the headrest.

"Randy couldn't...he couldn't...There's got to be an explanation," she said as she stared ahead into the face of the Cliff. The explanation was staring back at her. She started to get a sick feeling in her stomach. "Joel, I think Randy and Uncle Julius are up there..."

Joel shuffled in his seat. He reached to the left of the steering wheel. "Hold on!" he said setting off the siren. If Wellington was with Randy on the Cliff, Joel wanted to prevent what could be a deadly repeat performance.

His foot pushed down on the accelerator and their car rapidly picked up speed. Diane watched as other vehicles started to yield and Joel maneuvered around them. Within minutes the end of Gateway Avenue and the turnoff to the Cliff was coming into view. As they approached their turn, the street narrowed. It was becoming harder for other cars to get out of their way.

Hearing the siren at the last minute, one driver directly in front of them slammed on her brakes without moving to the side of the road. It forced Joel to veer his car erratically into the middle lane. He and Diane were thrown to the left and then to the right as he swerved into oncoming traffic and then back, narrowly avoiding a crash. Their car rattled as it bounced from lane to lane. He heard a frazzled Diane gasp and then perceived a sharp yelp emanating from the floor of the backseat.

"What the heck was that?" Joel yelled out looking in the back through his rear view mirror. "Did you hear that?" He reached instinctively for his gun.

"Yes." Diane nodded and held her breath.

Trevor popped his head up over the seat. "Ouch!" he said holding his forehead. "I think I cut my head."

"Trevor! "What do you think you're doing in here?" Joel slowed the car and cut the siren. He and Diane stared at the boy in shock.

Trevor grimaced as he held his head and offered no answer. Finally, Diane reached towards him and took his hand away from his head.

"Let me look at it, honey." She tried to see in the dark car as Joel drove on. "I think you're okay, Trevor," she said noticing a red spot but no cut. "I don't see any blood."

"Trevor! You're in big trouble, boy!" Joel shouted as he glared at him through the mirror. He was so angry he could barely get words out of his mouth.

"I had to come with you, Dad," he said. "I had to."

"No! No you didn't! You know better than this."

Trevor got off the floor and crawled up into the backseat. He knew he had crossed the line and couldn't avoid his dad's piercing eyes.

"First of all, don't ever surprise a cop like that. It could get you killed," Joel yelled.

"I'm sorry," Trevor said hoping that his dad would somehow understand -- even though he himself wasn't sure why he had decided upon such a foolhardy stunt. His unnatural fascination with the Cliff had gotten the best of him. He leaned forward and stuck his head in between their two seats and gazed ahead at the Cliff. Diane put her hand on top of his and patted it giving him a meek smile. She wasn't sure why, but she was glad the young stowaway had come along.

Joel looked over at them and scowled. He now had two civilians in his car, speeding wildly towards who knows what. "We'll talk about this later," he said.

He needed to keep his full attention on his driving. They were now approaching the final leg of their journey. Joel made a sharp turn onto the gravel road. All three of them were jostled in their seats as the car bumped along on the rough surface.

It was pitch black without the bright lights of Gateway Avenue around them. Joel turned his headlights on high beam. The large spruce trees that lined the road swayed as they barreled up the hill. Joel and Diane stared straight ahead with the headlights leading the way, as Trevor looked out the side window trying to discern anything that might give them a clue to the missing Randy or Mr. Wellington.

"We can't go much farther in the car," Joel said struggling to see what was ahead. He slowed the car as the road got bumpier and the stirred-up dust worsened the visibility.

"Stop!" Trevor yelled. Joel slammed on his brakes. The car skidded on the gravel to a stop.

"That was Mr. Wellington's car!"

"Where?" Joel asked.

"In that brush! I saw it! Back up, Dad!" Trevor pointed to the hidden turnout where Randy and Wellington had originally parked. Joel backed up in a cloud of dust and pulled into the small turnout. When the dust settled, they could see Wellington's old car.

"Oh, my God, Uncle Julius!" Diane couldn't help but think the worst.

Joel pulled up close and stopped. "Stay here," he demanded. "Don't get out!"

Joel gingerly stepped from the car and crept over in the direction of Wellington's Cadillac. He took out his flashlight and pointed it inside the car. His right hand hovered over his holstered pistol. He shone the light in the front seat, then the back. No sign of Wellington or anyone. The car was unlocked, he opened the door. He looked for a latch to pop the trunk.

Diane cringed as she watched the trunk open. Joel went around and looked inside. He looked back at her and gave a thumbs up. She breathed a sigh of relief when he closed the trunk and hurried back to their car.

"No sign of your uncle. Keys are gone too it looks like," he said as he started the car again and made a sharp u-turn to head back up the gravel road.

It took them only two minutes to reach the dead end of the road. As they looked through the dust, they all saw the same thing.

"It's Randy's car!" Diane called out. Both Randy and Wellington were undoubtedly nearby. Her heart sank.

"Dispatch!" Joel called into the radio. "I need back-up immediately up at the Cliff. Two cars at the top. Possible activity. I'm taking a look now."

"Roger!"

Joel looked back at the four eyes that were staring at him. "Both of you, stay in the car!"

"Maybe it would help if Uncle Julius or Randy were to see me..." Diane started.

"There is no discussion on this. You know your uncle probably has his gun and no telling what frame of mind Randy could be in... If you get out, you could be endangering lives."

His firm command kept her in the car without further argument. "Be careful, Joel, please," Diane said.

Joel got out of the car. Trevor and Diane watched as he crept up the dark hill until they could no longer see him. He easily navigated the path's course since he had walked it several times during the investigations. With just his flashlight and the light of the half moon, he climbed closer and closer to the two men who had reached their final destination.

The back side of the Cliff where Randy and Wellington now stood was only partially illuminated by the half moon. But the eyes of both men had long adjusted to the darkness during their climb. The warm summer air had turned cold on the backside. But as usual when there was activity, an intense heat radiated from the ground. Randy and Wellington could both feel the burn on their feet through their shoes.

They simultaneously walked up to the edge of the Cliff -- the exact spot where a lifetime of nightmares had haunted them both. They were back to a place they had dreaded to come, but were powerless to resist.

Wellington looked out over the edge. A smile crossed his lips. "The terrain is just how I remember it," he said. "The Cliff is unique in so many ways. Look how the vegetation clings to the sides of the mountain. The trees can grow horizontally here."

Randy stood beside him trying to block out his old friend's jubilant voice. It hurt to hear it, a voice he had grown up with – a voice that once told him stories – a voice that would soon be silenced.

"The old place hasn't changed so much," Wellington continued, directing his dialogue to the Cliff as much as to Randy. "It's been awhile since I've been here."

Randy couldn't say the same thing. Here he was again, so soon. But this time it was different. As he stood at the edge with Mr. Wellington, he couldn't bear to even look at him or listen to his reminiscing about how the place had changed or not changed.

He wondered more than ever why he had agreed to be part of Wellington's plan. He knew that once it was over, the bad feelings would dissipate and the good times would roll in. But he questioned how the euphoria he was going to feel would even begin to mask the sorrow that might accompany it.

"The colors even in the darkness are vibrant. Look at them Randy!" Wellington touched Randy's sleeve and pulled him closer to the edge. "The leaves on the vines are a purple you never see elsewhere, my boy!"

Wellington's echo bounced off the rocks below and back up into Randy's ears. The old man seemed to be enjoying himself. Randy tried harder to shut the familiar voice out.

"Stop it, Mr. Wellington. Everything about this place is evil. You know it as well as I do." He was beginning to feel nauseous. He wanted the Cliff to take over from here. It would have to. He brought Mr. Wellington to the spot – that was all he would be able to do.

"Let's get this over with!" Randy yelled.

The pain in his voice stopped Wellington cold. He stood upright and made sure Randy was looking straight at him before he spoke. "I left a note for Diane in my safety deposit box. I'm sure she will come across it in the next few days. My will leaves everything I have to her of course."

Randy could not bear too much more. "I'll take good care of Diane, Mr. Wellington. You know I love her."

"I told her in the note that we both love her and were sorry for what we did."

Randy looked at him questioningly. He thought he must have misunderstood what the old man said.

"I'm sorry I had to put words in your mouth, my boy. I tried to express the feelings that I know you have for her," Wellington continued.

"What are talking about?"

Mr. Wellington took the gun from his pocket as he backed Randy towards the edge. "You're coming with me."

### CHAPTER 37

### THE CLIFF TAKES OVER

Randy stood frozen struggling to make sense of the words he had just heard. He hadn't paid attention to the fact that Mr. Wellington had backed him right up to the edge of the Cliff -- the exact spot where the Cliff's power was at its most potent and where every sacrifice had been carried out.

He pivoted around and peered over the side. One more step and there was no place to go but down. He turned back and stared at a Mr. Wellington that he had never witnessed before. "Why would you do this?" he asked incredulously.

Randy waited for his answer, but there was none. Wellington's face had turned ugly, his expression distant. Randy recognized what was behind the glazed look in the old man's eyes -- he had known it himself. This was no longer his old friend, but a possessed body ordained by the Cliff to perform the only act that would satisfy its insatiable hunger.

The piercing heat of the ground where Randy stood now felt like fire burning through his shoes. Mr. Wellington emotionlessly stared at him, oblivious to any physical sensation. Randy lunged forward hoping to overpower him before he could respond, but Wellington was quick to raise his gun. He pointed it directly at his friend's head. Randy stopped abruptly, realizing the old man was deadly serious.

"Mr. Wellington, try to understand what this would do to Diane, if both of us were killed," Randy pleaded as he looked down the barrel of Wellington's gun. "She's going to be inconsolable just losing you. But to lose both of us, it would be too much."

Wellington's demeanor changed at the mention of Diane. "Step back, Mr. Wellington," Randy said slowly inching his way forward while gently pushing the old man backwards. "We need to move from this spot, okay?"

Wellington's expression softened and the color came back into his face once they had taken several steps away from the Cliff's edge. But Randy was still terrified watching the old man's trigger finger quiver.

"Let's walk over there and sit down..." Randy said pointing to a large tree stump.

As they moved further back, both men could feel a vibration under their feet. The Cliff was unhappy that Randy had interrupted the sacrifice that was about to be performed. A landslide was occurring below them. The two men staggered as the ground rumbled. A crack in the earth appeared at their feet. Randy pulled Wellington away from the fissure, with the gun still in his face.

"Put the gun away, Mr. Wellington," Randy said. "You don't want to kill me."

The old man looked at his friend with some recognition. "Randy..." he said.

Randy smiled. It was a huge relief hearing his friend finally utter his name.

"Come on, let's move back further..." Randy said trying to grab his arm again.

"No!" Wellington said pulling away. Overcoming the Cliff's brief possession had induced a blast of energy which was surging through the old man's body. Wellington had been able to fight off the Cliff's powerful manipulations and recover his own soul at least for now. He was rapidly gaining his composure. But as Randy witnessed Wellington's metamorphosis, he realized that what was emerging was a version of the old man that he was still not accustomed to.

"Listen to me, Randy. I'm through. It's enough for me. It needs to end right now."

"No, Mr. Wellington. Maybe the two of us together could overpower this," Randy said trying to sway him to change his mind. "Don't you see what just happened? We walked away from it."

"A temporary victory, son. But there's nothing we can do to fight it," Wellington said, "except one thing."

Randy looked hopefully at the old man. He was willing to try almost anything.

"It loathes suicides," Wellington continued, "of those who have been its pawns. Like you and I. Suicide diminishes its power...because once we've ceased living, we can no longer carry out its edicts." The look in his eyes intensified. "And that's what I plan to do as my last act on Earth," he said defiantly.

Wellington swaggered back to the Cliff's edge. As the old man stood on the precipice, Randy fought off the Cliff's desire to push his friend over and save his own life. Instead, he stood in awe watching Mr. Wellington defy the evil that surrounded them.

"You've destroyed my life! But I'll fight you in my moment of death, I swear!" Wellington yelled as if to an invisible being. His booming voice echoed against the sides of the ravine. Once again, rocks tumbled down the side of the ledge near them. He suddenly turned back to Randy still with the gun in hand. "And what do I have to do to convince you to break your cycle as well?"

Randy stared solemnly at his lifelong friend. A profound sadness gripped him. He knew that this was really Mr. Wellington talking and not the Cliff. But he was not yet prepared to die at the hands of either the Cliff or the old man.

"I hate myself, Mr. Wellington," Randy cried out. "But I love Diane more than I hate myself!" He dropped to his knees, putting his hands to his face feeling tears run down his cheeks.

Wellington slipped the gun in the deep pocket of his sweater. He listened to Randy's painful sobs as he peered out over the terrain. After several minutes of silence, Randy looked up and wiped his eyes. He rose from the ground and joined the old man at the Cliff's edge. The air was growing thick as the cool air and the heat emanating from the ground blended. The combination created a vapor that hovered over the area and blurred their vision. There were no sounds to be heard as they stood on the Cliff together looking straight ahead.

"Please, give me a chance," Randy said breaking the silence. "Sir, you were married for 30 years. And you've always told me wonderful things about you and your wife -- and your time together. Surely you understand how I feel when it comes to Diane and myself."

Wellington thought back to his life with his precious Lenore.

"I loved Honey the best way I could, as I know you would do with Diane. But, Randy, the Cliff will interfere. It corrupts any kind of love you start to feel." He shook his head as he looked at Randy. "There was always something missing with Lenore -- something getting in the way of that unique human connection. It'll be the same with you."

"Mr. Wellington, this isn't fair. I need to try it on my own. You had a chance with Lenore. Give me the same chance with Diane!"

"Randy, I must make you understand something," Wellington said taking a long, deep breath.

Randy gazed at his friend through the haze. He wanted to understand -- more than anything.

"Did you ever wonder how I lived all these years, supposedly good years, after getting involved with this wretched Cliff?"

"The same way as I did," Randy said. Their mutual hatred of the Cliff was obvious.

"Yes, that's right. Our situations are similar, are they not? Responsible for the deaths of our childhood friends. That started the whole thing for both of us, didn't it?"

"Yes sir, it did," Randy said somberly.

Wellington's expression turned softer as he started to reminisce. "For me it was dear old Stan. I didn't mean to hurt him, of course -- much less take his life. Just like you didn't mean to harm your friend. Say his name!"

The memories were painful to evoke. "Jeremy..." he said."Jeremy West."

"Yes, that's right, Jeremy West. We both loved our friends and this devilish place took them from us. It needed a sacrifice that would sting our hearts," he said.

Randy nodded in agreement. "And then make us think we were living the good life afterwards..."

"It's false happiness, isn't it? We know that now. It's empty. Yes our lives afterwards for the most part were care-free, no worries...but empty," Wellington said.

Randy's mind flashed back through the years he had lived. "If I hear someone say one more time how lucky I've been and how I didn't have to worry about anything..." Randy voice trailed off as he thought about it.

"Most people think they want to live without any upsets or cares!" Wellington said forcing a chuckle. "But I know better and you know better. Life is about overcoming worries and fears, not living without them." Randy nodded as the old man continued. "The Cliff has prevented us from experiencing our lives the way we came here to live them. No lessons learned. Just self-preservation."

"It's been so unsatisfying," Randy said. "But then I met Diane." He glanced at the old man for his reaction.

Wellington smiled but ignored his comment. He had a point to make and he wouldn't be side-tracked. "It's been over 60 years since Stan and I stood here, and just over 20 for you and Jeremy West. Same situations, similar feeling we had towards them I would imagine. But a far different number of years of rewards...if we can call them rewards! Why would the Cliff give me so much longer?"

Randy had never really thought of the difference before.

"Think about it, Randy. Why would the Cliff give me sixty years and you twenty?"

"Are you telling me there's still more you haven't told me about the Cliff?" The old man had certainly left out facets of the Cliff's curse before.

"Not exactly." Wellington paused as he uncharacteristically struggled for words. "I guess I'm trying to tell you something about me. And perhaps give you a glimpse of what will happen to you." He couldn't bear to look Randy in the face as he continued. "Did you ever think there might be another person I brought up here? Someone in between now and the time I stood here with Stan?"

Randy shook his head. He had not thought of it. But he now sensed that there was a lot more to Wellington's link to the Cliff than what he had been led to believe. Randy held his breath as the old man summoned up his courage to continue.

"Truth be told, it wasn't just Stan," Wellington said. "Randy, there was another sacrifice that awarded me these last 30 years."Randy watched the sad expression overtake the old man's face. "You don't have to tell me who it was," Randy said afraid to hear anymore.

"It was someone I loved. Or at least thought I did." Tears welled up in the old man's eyes. "It's hard to know anymore." Wellington could feel his heart starting to beat erratically as he pictured the events that had both haunted and rewarded him.

"I was in bad shape. It had been about 20 years since the incident with Stan. I knew I couldn't go on. But the ironic thing was neither could she," he continued. Randy looked over to see the pain in Mr. Wellington's face. He knew what was coming. "It was Honey, My precious wife Lenore."

A strong gust of wind suddenly swept through as if the Cliff disapproved of such last minute confessions. Both men swayed but stood solidly together with their feet planted on the ground, determined to defy any interruption.

"Oh, Mr. Wellington..." Randy reached out for his friend and hugged him. "I'm sorry."

Wellington started to tremble. "Honey had been diagnosed with cancer. The doctor was giving her no more than six months. I was in such miserable shape that I felt death was hovering over me too. We were going to die together."

Randy stood motionless, rapt in the sound of Wellington's voice. It was just as if he was that little boy again listening to one more of the old man's beguiling tales.

"Then I came up with a plan. I convinced myself that somehow fate had given me an option. Lenore was going to pass on no matter what, but I didn't have to die, you see. Lenore would be giving me life. She would be my sacrifice." Tears streamed down his face as he went on. "It was the most reprehensible thing I ever did."

Randy listened intently knowing in the back of his mind that the Cliff had also stepped in to help make the decision.

"When I first told her about the Cliff, she didn't believe me. But I convinced her it was true. At the end she said that she wanted to go along with it. It was for me she said...and I let her. We agreed upon it. I brought her up here and she stood right where we are now. Who knows how long she could have really lived had she not agreed. I'll never know and I'll never forgive myself... and may never be forgiven."

Randy reached his hand out once again to his friend. "Mr. Wellington, I understand."

"I know you do. That's the problem." The gun once again appeared in Mr. Wellington's hand. "This part I hate because you're like a son to me. I'm not doing this for the Cliff \-- but for Diane's sake. I sacrificed my wife and you'll do the same thing."

"No, that would never happen!" Randy cried out looking past the gun into Wellington's face.

"How can you be so sure, Randy?" he asked. "The Cliff can make you do whatever it wishes. You don't have any power when it wants something. We both know that. No matter what we want to believe, the Cliff is first and – anything, everything else is second."

Randy knew that the old man spoke from experience. They remained still for several minutes absorbing the enormity of their situation. Their two silhouettes standing in silence on the Cliff's edge against the dark sky were now being observed by the man who was hopefully coming to rescue them. Joel climbed up a slight incline and then crouched down beneath some brush. He recognized the shadowy figures through the fog a hundred feet away. He watched as they started to move again, well-aware that he had arrived at a crucial moment. His eyes focused on the gun in Wellington's hand.

He needed to make a move quickly, but stay hidden and well-protected. With what he had learned about each of them this evening, he knew that either man was capable of anything. Neither could be trusted. "Put the gun down, Mr. Wellington," Joel yelled from behind the bushes.

Both Wellington and Randy looked over in the distance of the disembodied voice. Randy saw his chance and knocked the gun out of Wellington's hands. Wellington fell to the ground as it fired.

The reverberation of the shot echoed through the canyon. Diane and Trevor listened as the sound of the gunshot sent a chill through their bodies. They both jumped in their seats and feared the worst. They peered up the dark hill from the inside of the police car. Diane could no longer just sit and wait.

"Trevor, do you know your way up this mountain?" she asked inches from his face.

He nodded. "Dad keeps an extra flashlight back here somewhere, I think," he said without missing a beat.

Diane turned on the overhead light and Trevor unfastened a strap that was holding a flashlight on the door of the backseat.

"Let's go," he said as Diane scrambled to find the door handle.

They jumped out of the car and hit the ground running -- up the same path where they watched Joel disappear. Diane followed as Trevor led the way holding the flashlight that beamed in front of them.

"Have you been on this path before?" Diane asked huffing behind him.

"Many years ago," Trevor said as they raced up the hill.

Diane's mind was too pre-occupied to question his odd response as they continued to run. All she could think about was Uncle Julius and Randy. She had an unsettling feeling that Joel had found them and the shot was the result of the discovery.

Seeing Wellington's weapon on the ground, Joel ran out from behind the brush towards them with his gun drawn. Mr. Wellington struggled to get up and Randy reached over to help him to his feet. Joel looked warily at Randy and then back at Wellington. The old man looked hurt and disheveled. Joel had never seen Randy appear so frantic.

"Have you been shot, Mr. Wellington?" Joel asked.

Wellington shook his head no.

The suddenness of Joel's appearance had caught Randy and Wellington completely off-guard and rendered both men vulnerable once again to the Cliff's whims. Joel could feel the animosity directed at him when he approached. The Cliff did not like Joel's intrusion and the eyes of the two men displayed it.

Randy was the first to speak. "Joel! I'm glad you're here," he said in a voice that Joel found unfamiliar. "Mr. Wellington has been playing a very deadly game. I'm afraid he has lost his mind."

"Okay, let's move him back from the edge here," Joel said, unsure who to keep his gun on aiming it between the two of them.

Randy grabbed the right arm of Wellington helping him stumble away from the edge. Joel realized that the old man was in very bad condition. He gripped the old man's waist to help steady him. Mr. Wellington suddenly went limp.

"I can't make it," he said as he shifted all his weight on to Joel giving Randy the opportunity to break free. Joel struggled to keep his balance as the old man leaned heavily on him. As Randy lagged behind, his eyes scanned the ground finally spotting a large rock.

"Randy, help me here," Joel said looking over his shoulder to see where he went. But as he turned, he saw Randy coming towards him with the rock aimed straight for his head. Joel let his grip go of Wellington, but it was too late. Randy smashed the rock hard over Joel's head.

Joel fell to the ground in an unconscious heap. Randy and Wellington stood together and looked down at his body Randy felt a warm breeze brush his face in appreciation. They knew exactly what the Cliff wanted next. Joel's body was close enough for the two of them to easily drag him to the edge and over. The Cliff's winds picked up pushing them in the direction they needed to go.

"Grab his legs and I'll get his arms," Randy said impulsively.

Wellington bent down to help, but then stopped as he caught the crazed look in Randy's eye. He realized the same look was probably in his. The Cliff's seductive power was living inside them.

"Come on, Mr. Wellington," Randy said noticing Wellington's hesitance. "Help me!"

Wellington summoned all the strength he had left and shook off the impulse. He stood back up erect and pushed Randy back.

"What are you doing, you stupid man!" Randy screamed.

"Randy! Don't you see what's going on?"

Randy pushed the old man away and bent back down and started to drag Joel's body to the edge of the Cliff himself. "Get away! Get away from me!" he screamed.

"Who are you?" Wellington yelled back. "Remember who you are, my boy!" Randy looked up at him. The old man's voice sounded familiar, but he bent back down as the Cliff gave him new energy to drag Joel's lifeless body.

"Randy!" A voice could be heard beneath the harsh wind of the Cliff. "Randy!'

Randy looked up. He knew the voice. He could sense slight warmth in his chest. "Randy!"

He looked through the fog that had become even denser. In the distance, two bodies were waving at him. "Randy!"

"It's Diane," he said out loud. He looked over at Wellington who nodded.

"Yes, it's Diane," he said.

Randy dropped Joel's arms. He squeezed his eyes shut as a massive pain shot through his head. When he opened them a few seconds later, he was greeted with Wellington looking straight at him. "What have I done?" Randy asked.

"See how the Cliff works, my boy. Do you need any more proof? You are never in charge! The Cliff is!"

"We're just pawns," Randy mumbled.

"You remember that. Especially when Diane is concerned," Wellington said. Randy looked over and could make out through the fog that Diane and Trevor were running towards them in the distance. He looked back over at Wellington.

The old man was now gasping for air, having used up any energy that he had left. His face showed the distress he was suddenly in. His eyes rolled to the back of his head. Wellington clutched his chest and started to fall on the ground. But the Cliff's strong wind returned, forcefully whisking him to the edge with the fog swirling around him. But Wellington stopped short of going over the side. Instead he took one last breath and took his own steps over the edge. He would choose to end it his way.

Randy watched as Wellington's body hung in midair starting to whirl in the familiar counter-clockwise direction, the same way and direction as he remembered seeing Ginny's body. But after several turns it stopped and reversed course – and began to spin clockwise. A satisfying sigh emanated from his whirling body.

Randy watched in amazement. He sensed that his dear friend's decisive march off the Cliff was a step in triumph against the power that had cursed him for a lifetime. He knew the clockwise twirling was the old man's way of departing on his own terms.

"That's the way, Mr. Wellington!" Randy said. Randy could feel the Cliff's disapproval. Obviously it was not happy with Wellington's last stand.

### IT'S OVER

Sense of time ceased to exist as Randy stood inches from the Cliff's edge. It was only when he became aware of the warm breath gently arousing the hairs on his neck that he came out of his trance-like state.

He turned around to see Diane's stunned face looking out over his shoulder. She was gazing at the spot where Mr. Wellington's suspended body had been spinning wildly. The molecules were still churning about in disarray even though he had dropped out of sight.

Her eyes shifted to focus on Randy. "What just happened?" she asked spellbound at the sight she had just witnessed.

Randy put his arms around her unable to answer. As he hugged her, she continued to stare over his shoulder in disbelief.

"He loved you very much," Randy said holding onto her as tightly as he could.

Hearing him say that released her tears. She cried into Randy's chest and he held her head as she trembled. The swirling wind had ceased. But an eerie calm descended in its place intensified by the fog that engulfed the area. Diane turned and through the dense haze she could see Trevor. He was dialing 911 for help, kneeling on the ground next to his stepfather's body.

"Oh, my God! Joel!" she cried.

She broke from Randy and rushed to Joel wondering if he were alive as she observed the blood seeping from his forehead. She immediately removed her scarf and pressed it on his wound. Trevor disconnected from his phone after making the distress call.

"Dad! Dad!" he said into his stepfather's ear.

Trevor's familiar voice seemed to nudge Joel out of unconsciousness. A moan emanated from his mouth as he came to grips with the intense pain that circled through his head. He instinctively tried to get up, but realized that was impossibility at the moment. He sank his head back into Trevor's hands.

"It's okay. They're on their way to help you, Dad," Trevor said.

Joel opened his mouth and tried to say okay and then closed his eyes unable to focus. They all breathed a sigh of relief knowing he was still alive.

"I don't understand this," Diane said. She looked back at Randy. "What happened here?"

Distant sirens could be heard heading towards them. Randy looked away and back out over the Cliff. There were no words to explain, but he must somehow. Diane placed Trevor's hands on the scarf that she had been pressing on Joel's wound and rose to her feet. She stomped past Randy – daring the Cliff as she stalked to its edge. Randy reached for her as she peered over.

"The rumors about this place are true. I can feel it myself. I saw it myself!" she said. "Uncle Julius spinning in midair! Unless I wake up and find out this is all some horrible dream, then it's true."

Randy nodded.

"Randy, why did you and Uncle Julius come up here tonight?" she asked turning back to face him.

"Diane, this Cliff took over our lives. Both of us – your uncle's and mine."

She didn't understand his cryptic reply, but knew he was speaking the truth.

"Your uncle wanted to protect you," Randy continued.

"Protect me? Protect me from what?"

"From me," he said. "Diane, I love you so much. You saved me tonight. You saved Joel. Just by your love. That's all it took. Love can change things even in this evil place."

Diane looked over the edge to the darkness below. She could not make out any forms or shapes. "Oh, Uncle Julius..." Her distraught cry echoed down the ravine." Why would you do this? Why?"

"Diane, I know you don't understand this," Randy said coming close behind her. "But you just saw your uncle standing up to his demons. That was the bravest thing I've ever seen."

The sound of the sirens grew louder as the police cars and ambulance were making their way up the gravel road. Randy looked toward the sounds. He knew he had little time left to convey his message.

"It's important that you hear me out before they get here," he said drawing her back towards him away from the Cliff's edge. "Diane, your uncle has left you his whole estate. He told me so."

Diane pulled away from him, appalled that he would be so crass. "Randy, I don't care about that!"

"I've left you half of my estate too. The other half will be split between my mother and sister. All of you will keep getting payments from my vaccine for the rest of your lives."

"Why are you telling me this now, Randy? Stop it!"

Randy looked away from her glare, his silence hinting at the answer. His demise was imminent.

Diane gasped at the realization. "Randy, I can't take this. Stop torturing me!"

He reached for her hands and held them. "I committed some unforgivable mistakes because of my allegiance to this Cliff. To answer your question, your uncle and I came up here tonight so we could stop the mistakes that would happen in the future."

She shook her head in confusion.

"I know this is hard to comprehend, but it's too late for me," he continued. "I've got to move on, just like your uncle did."

"Randy, please don't do this," she said through her heavy sobs. "You said I saved you tonight. Whatever it is, Randy, I love you. Let me help you!"

He hugged her tightly. How could he explain what he didn't even understand himself? "You did save me... from myself tonight. But I can't ask you to keep doing that. ..time and time again. And that's what it will be. My soul is gone, Diane. The Cliff's soul lives in me." He stared at her with the coldest eyes he knew he had. She needed to see it for herself.

The look on Diane's face crushed him more than anything he had experienced. Seeing her so hurt and confused plunged him further into the private hell he had been enduring. "Maybe someday you can forgive me," he said. "I want that more than anything."

"Please, Randy, I can't lose you both now to this damn Cliff!" She looked around hating the ground she stood on.

Randy looked back out into the darkness of the ravine. Randy thought how much he hated himself at this very moment. "I need to reconnect with my essence -- because I've lost it here."

The screaming sirens that had been echoing through the canyon abruptly ceased. In a matter of minutes the Cliff would be swarming with cops. Randy turned back to Diane and gripped her arms tightly. He pulled her face close to his.

"Listen to me, now!" he demanded. "There's something else that needs to be said. There's something extremely important that you must do for your uncle and me! I'm talking about this Cliff, Diane." The intensity in his eyes was something she had never seen before.

"You take our money -- the money your uncle and I are leaving you. Take as much money as you need from both our estates and you make sure this Cliff is destroyed!" The rumble beneath them was unmistakable. But Randy and Diane ignored it as they stood immobile. "The city must continue the project it already started. The project to knock this Cliff down to the ground!"

Randy started to flinch uncontrollably. He could feel the spirits that inhabited the Cliff hurling themselves at him. He knew they were trying to enter his mind -- their power was familiar to him. If he waited too long they would succeed. He did his best to focus on Diane's questioning face. "And watch out Diane, because this Cliff will fight being destroyed every inch of the way. Don't let it win."

As he spoke, Trevor drew closer. He had been listening to every word.

"Mr. Wellington and I need to be in some way responsible for its destruction," Randy continued. "Diane, you must do this for both your uncle and me." Randy looked deep into her eyes. "Promise me."

"I promise," she said transfixed in his stare.

A strong breeze began to blow. A gust of wind caught Diane and nudged her to the edge. Randy caught her. "Nice try," he said to the air gently drawing her back.

Diane and Trevor watched in awe as he communicated with the unknown force. "Any way I can help hurt you is a step towards my redemption!" he cried out into the darkness.

He turned back to face Diane one last time. He kissed her on the lips and then set her free. The love in her expression warmed his heart at the same time as he sensed her grief in losing him. "We'll meet again in some form. We always do," he said.

Randy glanced back at Trevor, who nodded in agreement knowing exactly what he was saying. "I'm truly sorry to you, Jeremy," Randy said to him. Trevor nodded.

"Thank you, Randy." The young boy's awareness of who he had once inhabited came into his focus and his own obsession with the Cliff now revealed itself to him.

Randy turned and faced the darkness below. He inhaled deeply and took three steps. The wind howled as he whirled off the Cliff. Diane and Trevor stood in the strong puff of air watching the spectacular phenomenon take place. Joel looked up from the ground through the haze unsure at what he was seeing. He struggled to his feet and joined them putting his arm around his son for support.

The three stood mesmerized unaware that the medics and policemen were appearing on the horizon shouting at them. "Are you all right? Stay right there!" The words whizzed by them unheard.

As the three watched Randy finally drop, they stood catatonic inches from the edge themselves.

"What just happened?" Joel asked finally able to speak.

"Karma," Trevor said. "I think Uncle Randy just reversed his."

Several policemen closed in with their guns drawn. Two of them gently escorted the trio from the edge of the Cliff. A stretcher was put down on the ground and Diane and Trevor watched the paramedics lift Joel onto it to be taken to the hospital. Questions flew, but only faraway stares were the answers for now. All three shrugged off the inquiries that were being hurled at them by the policemen.

As they were being led away, Diane looked over at the idol bulldozers that stood in the distance. A look of determination crossed her face. "Don't worry, Randy," she said to the wind, "I'll have those moving again, if it's the last thing I do!"

### ABOUT THE AUTHOR

My interest in the occult began as a young man when I starred in _Hollywood Meatcleaver Massacre_ (a bizarre occult/slasher flick of the late '70s with Christopher Lee and Ed Wood). Shortly after making the film, I began working on my own screenplay about a Cliff possessed by the Devil. Although it was completed, I never found the opportunity to submit it. Decades passed as they tend to do.

Five years ago when I was downsizing once more, I rediscovered a box of my long-ago movie mementos. My _Demon of Death_ script which eventually became _Meatcleaver Massacre,_ the tear sheets from my long-forgotten film (thank goodness!) _The Chaperone, The Soylent Green_ mask I wore while rioting in the New York streets of the future _, Seinfeld_ and _Frasier_ scripts I worked on as an extra. But what really caught my attention was the script I wrote: _Sacrifice: The Secret of Spirits Cliff_. The story once again gripped me and I set out to revamp and update it. And while I was at it.... why not make it into a novel TOO?! So here you have the book version – the advance look into the movie yet to be made.

I hope you enjoyed Spirits Cliff. Feel free to connect with me at:

<https://twitter.com/dugsr1>

or email me at:

Doug@spiritscliff.com

or favorite me at:

<https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/Dugsr>
