The Curse Оf Hollister House

The steak house Cass took me to was a rustic log building settled on the beach on the eastern shore of the lake. The music was soft, the lighting dim, and the tables covered with white cloths. The restaurant was both elegant and woodsy, which I loved, but somehow the romantic setting made our dinner out feel a lot more datelike than I’d anticipated or was comfortable with.

“This is really lovely,” I said as Cass pulled out my chair.

“It’s one of my favorite places to eat. Their filets are the best quality I’ve ever had, and their pasta dishes are even better than Antonia’s,” Cass said, mentioning a local favorite. “I can assure you that anything you order will be delicious, but my favorite is the Seafood Oscar.”

“Sounds good.”

“The scampi and the stuffed salmon are wonderful as well. Like I said,” Cass laid his napkin on his lap, “you really can’t go wrong.”

Cass waved the waiter over and ordered a bottle of wine. I clutched the menu, hiding behind it as I tried to get my emotions under control. I seriously needed to get a grip. Cass was a friend. Just a friend. We’d been friends for years and had shared hundreds of meals. There really was no explanation for my jitters.

“Remember that time we camped out on the beach just south of here and that family of raccoons took the bathing suits we’d left on the line to dry and carried them up the tree?”

I lowered my menu and looked over the top of it at Cass for the first time since we’d sat down. I smiled. Leave it to Cass to find a way to break the ice and put me at ease with a silly memory the two of us shared. “That was pretty aggravating at the time, but looking back, it was hilarious. We had to swim in our underwear for the rest of the trip. And let’s not forget about that one superfat raccoon we named Chucky. No matter how hard we tried to keep him out of the food, he found a way in.”

Cass chuckled. “I have metal containers for my food when I backpack now, but back then we’d just raid the cupboard at your aunt’s place or my parents’ and take off at only a moment’s notice.”

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done anything at a moment’s notice. My life as a concert pianist had been structured and disciplined. The spontaneous teen I’d once been had been shoved down into the deepest corner of my soul once the responsibilities of adulthood had set in. “Whatever happened to Toby Wallis?” I’d brought up a friend of Cass’s who’d come along on many of our expeditions and adventures.

“Toby is a ranger for the National Park System. He is currently in Glacier National Park, but he recently did a stint in Yellowstone. He married Natalie Green, who, interestingly, went on to become a wildlife veterinarian.”

“Really? That’s awesome.” I remembered Natalie as a shy but serious student who was smarter than Cass and me put together.

“Toby and Natalie appear to live an interesting life. They travel quite a bit between the parks, but they were back in Foxtail Lake over the holidays, and we hung out a bit. They seem happy.”

“It would be fun to actually live in the various parks. I’m sure there is a lot more to see and experience than you can as a visitor. But wasn’t Natalie dating Daniel Gray when we were in high school?”

“She was, but they broke up. Daniel still lives in Foxtail Lake. He owns the local hardware store. You should stop by. I’m sure he’d be thrilled to see you.”

“I will.”

Cass and I continued to catch up while we waited for our meals to arrive. It was fun to hear how everyone turned out. Having stayed in Foxtail Lake, Cass had attended all the high school reunions, so he had pretty much kept up with everyone, while I hadn’t kept up with anyone.

I intentionally avoided the subject of Tracy’s murder investigation. I suspected Cass was intent on avoiding it as well. Not that I wasn’t totally interested, but somehow our uncomfortable date had settled into an enjoyable meal between friends, and I didn’t want to do anything to ruin the mood. Cass shared some of the highlights of his life from the past fourteen years, and I did the same. Of course, I was much more interested in his stories because I knew most of the people he spoke of and was totally able to relate.

It wasn’t until we were driving home that I broached the subject that had been lingering in the back of my mind the entire evening. “I’ve still been thinking a lot about Stella.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“I feel really bad about the fact that I barely gave her a second thought after leaving Foxtail Lake, even though she was my best friend and she died a terrible death.”

“You shouldn’t feel bad. You’d moved on to a new life. It’s natural for the people and places from your past to fade away from your mind.”

“Maybe, but I feel like it is important to keep her memory alive.”

Cass placed his right hand over my left and gave it a squeeze. “This is hard for you, isn’t it? Being back with your memories and your past.”

“It is hard. But it’s nice as well. I’m not happy about the reason I’m home, but I think I needed this time to reconnect with my past. I hadn’t meant to totally lose touch with everyone here at the lake, but the longer I’m here, the more I realize I had. It’s been nice being around people who knew me way back when.”

“Living in a small town for your entire life has its ups and downs, but in the end, I wouldn’t change a single thing. I love it here. It’s my home. I really can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

There was a time when the only thing I could think of was living somewhere else. Anywhere else. But now? Now things somehow looked different. Everything had changed, and I was a different person than I was fourteen years ago.

After Cass dropped me off, I headed up to the attic. I guess if there was one thing that hadn’t changed in all these years, it was that the little room at the top of the stairs was still the place I felt most at home. When I opened the attic door, I found Alastair curled up in the window seat. Gracie’s room had been dark when I passed it, so I assumed she’d gone to bed. Strange that she hadn’t taken Alastair with her. I crossed the room, picked up the cat, and curled us both into the window. It crossed my mind that it was odd he was even in the room given the fact that the door had been closed, but I supposed he might have wandered in earlier and, not knowing that he was in the room, Gracie might have closed the door.

“Lots of stars out tonight,” I said to the cat as I gazed out the window at the dark sky.

“Meow.”

“I really missed the sky when I lived in New York,” I continued out loud. “I missed watching storms approach, sunrises over the meadow, and sunsets over the lake. I missed looking up into the sky and seeing so many stars that it looked like someone had painted them there.” I hugged the cat to my chest and let the sound of his purring soothe my somewhat battered soul. “Before you came to live here, Gracie had a cat named Archie, and before Archie was Tobias. Tobias was already an old cat when I came to live with Gracie and wasn’t really into accompanying me on my various adventures, but Archie and I had a lot of fun together.”

The cat continued to purr. I’d forgotten how relaxing the sound of a cat purring could be.

“I used to have this little pirate hat that Gracie made for me. It was cat-size, so Archie and I could play pirate and princess. We used to have so much fun together, Archie and me.” I leaned back so I could get an even better view of the sky. “I really miss him. I honestly didn’t even realize that until just now.” I felt a catch in my throat. “I wonder if he missed me when I left.”

“Meow.”

“Yes, I’m sure Aunt Gracie took good care of him. She always takes good care of everyone who is entrusted to her care.” I sat up a little straighter, adjusting the cat in my arms. “We used to have this blind squirrel who lived up here in the attic. Now, most folks would have killed the trespasser, but Aunt Gracie started feeding it. She’d come up here and talk to it in a really gentle voice until eventually, the squirrel would come right up to her when she called. I guess that old squirrel must be long dead by now, but it’s nice to know he found a friend in Gracie during his final days.”

“Meow.”

“Yes, I’m sure you would have approached the presence of a blind and helpless squirrel quite differently. Most cats would have, but the first time Archie yowled at the poor little guy, Gracie gave him a stern warning, and Archie left him alone from that point forward.” I unfolded myself from the window. “I think there is a painting of the little trespasser around here somewhere. Gracie was going through her painting stage right about the same time the squirrel moved in with us.”

I walked toward the back of the attic, where I’d noticed some canvases covered with tarps. I gently lifted each one, looking for the image of that old squirrel perched in the window with the pile of nuts Gracie had given him to keep him still while she sketched him.

“Here it is.” I stepped aside. “His name was Oliver.”

“Meow.”

“Yeah, he was a scrawny little thing, but Gracie seemed to love him.”

Alastair jumped up onto a pile of boxes behind me. The one on the top fell to the floor. Old ceramic mugs wrapped in newspaper from Gracie’s pottery phase had been stored inside the box. I hoped nothing had broken. I picked up the first mug and unwrapped it. It seemed fine. I checked the other two on the floor as well before beginning the process of rewrapping them. It was while I was rewrapping the third mug that I noticed the headline on the page: “Missing girl mauled to death.” I set the mug aside and unfolded the old newspaper. The article had been published ten years ago. Apparently, a twelve-year-old girl who lived in the little town of Rivers Bend, about thirty miles south of Foxtail Lake, had gone missing. She’d last been seen leaving the middle school she attended on foot. There had been no sign of her for almost eight weeks until a hiker and his dog had come across a partially disturbed body. It appeared the girl had been mauled.

I looked at Alastair. “No way this is a coincidence.”