The Restorer

Nineteen

Devlin came around the car and I saw his ghosts then. I wasn’t surprised they were with him. It was full-on dusk and we were out in the middle of nowhere, far away from hallowed ground.

I hadn’t seen him since our encounter at Rapture, and all the things that I’d learned about him since that night flashed through my head. He was, in fact, one of the Devlins and was estranged from his grandfather because he’d pursued the wrong profession and married an unsuitable woman. That told me a lot about him, about the man he’d once been before tragedy and grief had made him so guarded.

It was strange, but the more I knew about him, the more remote he seemed to me. Which was probably a good thing, considering. Too many things had happened since he’d entered my life. His ghost child had appeared in my garden, his dead wife had taunted me at the graveyard, the old man’s entity had returned, perhaps as a warning, and a door had been opened, unleashing a cold, terrifying presence that now trailed me.

It was also a good thing I’d tempered my impulse when I first saw him tonight. I’d wanted to launch myself into his arms the way I had at Oak Grove, but his ghosts held me back. Already I could feel their consuming chill as Devlin walked toward me.

“What happened?” His gaze was narrowed as he focused on my face.

“Flat tire. Thank God you came along when you did. You have no idea how glad I am to see you.” I was proud of myself for the right amount of relief and nothing more in my voice.

He glanced around. “What are you doing way out here?”

Was that suspicion I heard in his voice?

“I came to look at a cemetery.” Not a lie, though I purposefully let him assume an untruth. “What about you?”

“Personal business.” His voice was as flat as my tire. “Do you have a spare?”

“It’s on the car. This is my second flat, lucky me. I must have picked up a couple of nails somewhere.”

Maybe it was my imagination, but the angles of his face seemed harsher than usual, the circles under his eyes even darker. Then I remembered his trip to the cemetery and the date on that tiny headstone.

I glanced away because I couldn’t bear to look at him. Couldn’t bear to think about Essie’s prediction. I had a hard time envisioning a scenario where I would ever be able to tell him about his daughter’s ghost.

“Two flats, huh?”

“Yes. I called my roadside service, but the signal kept fading in and out. I’m not sure the operator even heard the directions. If you hadn’t come along when you did…” This time a tremble in my voice betrayed me.

He turned to peer down at me. “What?”

“It was probably nothing. A car was parked a little way up the shoulder. I never heard the engine or saw the lights. It was just…there. Then the moment your car appeared, the driver took off. I actually thought he was going to hit me for a moment.”

“This part of the county is rural and poor. A lot of drugs, a lot of crime around here.”

“You think I stumbled across a drug deal.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.” He glanced at the tire iron I still clutched in my hand. “Do you have a jack to go with that?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then let’s get this tire off. I know a guy in Hammond who owns a garage. Maybe we can persuade him to stay open long enough to fix both flats.”

“Thank you.”

He knelt to loosen the lug nuts. “No problem. It’s not like I was going to leave you stranded out here.”

“I know but…” My gaze swept the edge of the woods and I shuddered. “You really have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

The mechanic in Hammond was subject to persuasion, but not without a price. Sixty dollars and two patched tires later, I finally drove across the Ravenel Bridge into Charleston.

Devlin followed me all the way back home and waited at the curb in front of my house until I was inside. I hurried down the hall turning on lights, and then stepped out on the veranda to wave him on. If I had been a bit more socially adept, I would have invited him in for a drink or a cup of coffee. It probably wasn’t a good night for him to be alone. But years of caution and solitude still governed my behavior so I stood there and watched him drive off.

And, to be truthful, I was a little afraid to be alone with Devlin in my house. It wasn’t just the odd instance of my waning energy while he slept that made me uneasy. Something Temple had said the night before kept coming back to me. “There’s something about him…I’m not sure I can explain it. I’ve known men like him before. Controlled and guarded on the surface, but under the right conditions…with the right woman…”

What worried me the most? I wondered. That Devlin would lose control with me…or that he wouldn’t?

That was crazy. I had so many more important things to worry about.

Locking the front door, I went straight to the bathroom, showered and got ready for bed. I was so exhausted from the evening’s ordeal that I wanted nothing more than a long night’s sleep.

But I couldn’t shut down my brain. The moment my head hit the pillow, my thoughts ran rampant.

I hadn’t told Devlin what I’d seen at the edge of the woods—on either occasion—because I didn’t know how to explain it. What would I say? Because of my connection to you and your ghosts, something dark has come through the veil and I don’t know if my father’s rules can protect me?

There was another darkness that frightened me, too—the black sedan that had sped away the moment headlights appeared on the horizon. I really wanted to believe I’d chanced upon some illegal activity that would explain the driver’s peculiar behavior, but already doubt had started to gnaw a hole in that theory.

The vehicle that had nearly run me down in the parking lot the night my briefcase was stolen had also been a black sedan.

I’d tried to convince myself the killer would have no reason to target me once I’d sent those photographs to Devlin, but now I worried…

What if I’d seen something I didn’t even know I saw?

What if there was something in those images—a hidden symbol—that only I could interpret?

What if I really was the key to solving Hannah Fischer’s murder?

Outside, the wind picked up. I could hear the rustle of limbs against the house, the faraway tinkle of the wind chimes in the garden. I lay there shivering even though the night was balmy and warm.

Easing my hand from beneath the cover, I reached for Essie’s amulet on the nightstand. The pouch had a fusty odor I hadn’t noticed earlier. I started to toss it on the end table, but slipped it underneath my pillow instead.

Keep dem bad spirits away.

I hoped she was right.

My eyes fluttered closed and my muscles finally began to relax.

Floating down into a deep slumber, I was oblivious to the creak of my garden gate, the howl of my next-door neighbor’s dog and the eyes that gleamed with madness peering in through my bedroom window as I slept.