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Cameron cocked his head and grinned. “Because, dear boy, we prefer not to tattle. Instead we thought it best to give you a glimpse of our bad—no, no—our worst boy.”

  The filmed interview flickered off, and the reporter reappeared on the screen. “Paul, the twenty-third recorded personality of John Rand, is assumed to be the one that planned and executed the escape. As reported before, Dr. Clarion surmises that John split, or, disassociated personalities at the age of three as a result of severe physical and sexual assault by his parents. It was Dr. Clarion’s testimony and filmed interviews with the various personalities that caused Mr. Rand to be incarcerated for life in a mental hospital. This last revelation by Cameron closes the case of the heinous murders of Mr. Rand’s parents. However, it is also what propelled him to escape. We’ll bring you more details on this bizarre case as they unfold. For Channel Three News, this is Armando Garcia at the California Medical Facility in Vacaville.”

  As the three friends ate their breakfast, Iris couldn’t stop dissecting the televised interview “Didn’t Sybil have fifteen or sixteen personalities?” she asked as she took a bite of her pastry and sipped her sweetened coffee.

  “Yeah,” Sonia answered, “at least that many.”

  “How awful life must’ve been for that guy, Rand, as a kid, just as it was for Sybil.”

  “Yeah, but he’s out there, and there’s no telling what trouble or violence he might be causing.”

  “He must be very clever to have escaped,” said Iris. “You’d expect the staff to be more careful with him.”

  “Who knows how those mental institutions are run.” Sonia sighed and sipped her coffee.

  Iris looked at Sarah. “What do you think, Sarah? You’re awfully quiet this morning.”

  “Am I? Sorry, had a bad night.”

  “That’s ‘cause you read-—”

  “Iris!” Sonia interjected.

  “Oops, sorry. No mentioning of the darn crazy book allowed.”

  Sonia scowled and shook her head. “You’re impossible. Anyway, what are we doing for our last day here?”

  “I’d like to go shopping,” Iris answered. “ I’m done with the tourist stuff, given that our psychic pal is otherwise engaged. Plus, I have family and friends that expect me to bring them something from spooky Eureka.”

  “I’d like to explore the museums a bit slower,” Sonia said. “We breezed through them looking for the ghosts.”

  They turned to Sarah who shrugged. “I’ll kick back and—”

  “You’re going to read your crazy book, aren’t you?”

  “Iris,” Sonia scolded. “You promised.”

  “Sorry,” Iris said. “Okay, how about the three of us meet up here for a late lunch? Let’s say one thirty?”

  They agreed.

  “Sarah, if you hear from James, will you tell us?”

  “Of course. Go on, enjoy yourselves.” She watched the two leave while she finished her coffee.

  Back in her room, Sarah eyed the book that sat on the small table in front of the fireplace. Resolutely, she picked it up. “If you need me to do something, stop playing games. Guide me for a change. I’ve had my fill of these bizarre images. Is Karla in danger? Is that why you keep showing her? Please, give me some answers.”

  She settled into the chair by the small table and opened the book.

  Echo

  “Furnell, who the hell is placing these scarves in my briefcase? Why can’t your people find out what’s going on?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. McKenzie,” Furnell responded sheepishly. “We placed a tracking device in your briefcase to monitor its whereabouts. You’ve had your briefcase either in your home or here in your office the entire time and we have not seen anyone tamper with it.”

  “How can that be?” Exasperated, Daryl slammed his fist on his desk. “You may leave.” He massaged his fist with his other hand as Furnell exited the office. “Susan!” he yelled.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Get me some ice and a towel. Please.”

  “Right away, sir.” She scampered out.

  Sarah’s cell phone rang, startling her. She reached for her purse and extracted it. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Sarah, James here.”

  “James, I’m so glad you called.”

  “Sorry I haven’t answered your messages, I’ve been helping some folks with a—never mind. What can I do for you?”

  “Lots, I hope. Are you back?”

  “No. I’m consulting away from Eureka. I usually don’t allow interruptions when I’m working. It interferes with the flow of things.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, James. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

  “Don’t worry, my dear, anything for you. Having trouble with your book?”

  “Serious trouble, I’d say. May I ask you a quick question?”

  “Shoot.”

  “I now understand that the story from the book is entirely in my head. There are no appearing and disappearing pages.”

  “Yeah, I figured as much.”

  “You did?”

  “I got the feeling early on that the person in need of your assistance is in some type of danger. Serious danger, I’d say. And the entity attached to your book is trying to help. But the exchange is difficult. I told you that I sensed reluctance, serious fear, maybe even guilt.”

  “The problem is that I’m detaching from the here and now when the images play in my head. To tell you the truth, I find it distressing”

  “Remember, I warned you about entering into another person’s reality. When you do that, you relinquish control.”

  “That’s not—”

  “Sometimes it’s better for spirits to communicate by allowing you to experience what’s going on.”

  “Yeah, I understand that, but I’m not experiencing being in someone’s reality. I perceive the story as if I were reading it, witnessing the goings on. When the story takes over, I’m there and not here. When it releases me, I have no recollection of getting from point A to point B.”

  “I understand.”

  “This is new for me. In the past, even though I witnessed the events related to me by the spirits, I retained some control over my surroundings and my actions.”

  “And you don’t want to lose control?”

  “I most certainly don’t. It’s terrifying. Plus, why feed me this drip of stories I can’t interpret? Why not tell me what I need to do to help?”

  “Well, it might be difficult for this particular entity to do so.”

  “But if someone is in imminent danger, why not point me in the right direction instead of wasting valuable time?”

  “My dear, I’m truly sorry I can’t be there with you. You sound scared.”

  “I am, James. I saw on television about the Rand man with multiple personalities and—”

  “You’re afraid it’s about him?”

  “It could be. The Paul personality—”

  “Yes, Paul is dangerous, but only to those who try to harm him. Do you sense anyone in the narrative you’re witnessing that might harm Paul? Has he appeared in the story?”

  “No. But the face of the most dangerous character in the story eludes me. If it’s him, he’ll likely harm others.”

  “Those you fear he could harm, do they pose a danger to him?”

  “No, I don’t believe they do. At least not so far.”

  “I don’t wish to impart advice that’s going to put you in harm’s way. All I can suggest is that you listen to your instincts and follow them. But frankly, I can’t imagine the Rand scenario playing out near you.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Sarah could almost feel James struggling with his response. “He’s been on the loose for a couple of weeks. I don’t sense anything about him in connection with you. I hope that helps.”

 
She took a deep breath. “I’m being paranoid, aren’t I? Any idea when you’ll be back?”

  “Not for a while. You’ll probably be gone. When are you heading back home?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “I’ll give you a call when I’m done. Maybe I can come visit with you, if that’s okay. I’d like to visit your twin houses. And I’d very much like to meet Conrad.”

  “Consider it a date.”

  “Remember, Sarah, trust your instincts. They’ll never let you down.”

  They rang off, and with great reluctance, Sarah turned her attention back to the book.

  A love poem welcomed her.

  LOVE

  As the sun declines

  And hides beyond

  The night

  I look

  Forward

  To the quiet times

  With you

  The candlelight

  The wine

  The tender

  Smile

  That says so much

  The knowing that

  Your hand is

  Safe

  In mine

  We can watch the shadows

  Dancing

  As they rush along the walls

  Or

  Hear the breeze that’s singing

  All our memories

  Not letting us forget

  The way we loved

  And love

  10

  The Shift

  Conrad sighed. “You’re right, it’s a stirring poem. Whoever wrote this book loved profoundly.”

  “Difficult to imagine that such a beautiful book of poems can be connected to the dreadful story of Jackal in The Mirror. To show me that title in the first place, and convince me that I’m reading a book that doesn’t exist, is downright exasperating.”

  “But that’s not what you need to focus on.”

  “Pray continue, Dr. Watson.”

  “It’s clear to me, from what James told you, that someone is in serious trouble and you’re being used to somehow offer that person help. Don’t try to make sense of how it’s presented, instead listen and learn as much as you can. Who needs your help?”

  “Karla, or maybe Andrew.”

  “From what you’ve told me, that makes sense.”

  “You suspect that Rand guy might be the one?”

  “No, I agree with James that this Rand fellow doesn’t appear to be the one that’s out to harm her. Watching that interview was simply a coincidence in my opinion.”

  “But what if he is the one cuddling up to those women after he kills them?”

  “Did he have the birthmark in the clip you saw?”

  “I didn’t notice any.”

  “There you have it.”

  “So… who?”

  “You’ll have to wait for that.”

  “And Rand?”

  “You’re asking me if he can harm you?”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “That’s pretty definitive.”

  “First, he’s far from where you are. Vacaville is way south.”

  “Yeah, near San Francisco. And Karla.”

  “C’mon. Vacaville is almost sixty miles north of Frisco and he’d have to cross the bay. That’s quite a trek for a mental patient who’s running away with every law enforcement officer in the state on his tail. On the other hand, there’s a lot of difficult terrain around Vacaville that’s perfect for hiding.”

  “Boy, you’re well informed.”

  “Yeah, I looked it all up.” After a long pause, Conrad continued. “Anyway, I’m with James. You shouldn’t fret about Rand. You want me to come join you?”

  “No. One way or the other, I’m driving home tomorrow after the girls leave. I’ll stop in Oregon for the night and be home the next day.”

  “What are you going to do this afternoon?”

  “After lunch we’ll probably hang around, I suppose. We’ve done about everything around here. Did you find out about Austen?”

  “I haven’t gotten a call back. Your pal the sheriff must be busy.”

  “How about Aldercrest or the McKenzie family?”

  “Nothing. I’m pretty sure they’re not real names. I did find a State Park named MacKerricher South of Eureka. The owners of the land that became the park were farmers and the town was created as a result of the railroad.”

  “Hold on, someone’s knocking at the door.” Phone in hand Sarah walked to the door and opened it.

  Iris stormed in followed by Sonia. “What are you doing, we’ve been waiting for you?”

  “Sorry, I took a nap and I’ve been on the phone with Conrad.”

  “Oh, let me say hi.” Iris took the phone. “Hi there, handsome.”

  “Iris, I’m told that you’ve had a ball down there, even though Sarah disappointed you.”

  “Nonsense. She didn’t disappoint me, quite the opposite. I’m in awe of her. I don’t understand how she can do what she does. I would’ve liked for her to chat with some of the local ghosts and get the skinny on why they’re here, and their lives, and all that stuff. But the book spirit is selfish and obsessive. A real pain in the ass. Anyhow, we’ve done a bunch of other interesting things. How are you?”

  “I miss my wife, but other than that, all’s well here.”

  “Hold on, Sonia would like to say hello.” She handed the phone to Sonia.

  “Conrad, hi. How about the kids and grandkids?”

  “All well, Sonia. Are you taking care of Sarah? Iris can get under her skin and with—”

  “Yep, I’ve got it under control, don’t fret. Give the family hugs and kisses from all of us.”

  “I shall.”

  She handed the phone to Sarah.

  “What was that all about?”

  “Just banter.”

  “Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow when I’m ready to hit the road. Love you.”

  “Enjoy your last day with the girls.”

  After she hung up, Sarah noticed that Iris had grabbed the book, opened it, and was reading. “Iris, what are you doing?”

  Iris looked up. “These are exquisite poems. Listen to this one.

  LOVELIGHT

  Any kind of light

  Is right to watch you by

  Any kind of night

  Is right for lullabies

  So singing you to sleep

  And seeing starlight in your eyes

  Gives every single night

  The greatest kind of light

  For loving you

  Such beautiful images.” Iris smiled. “Sarah, what do you make of it all?”

  Sonia took the book from Iris, closed it and set it back on the small table. “C’mon you two, I’m starving. I found a place for lunch you’ll both love. It’s called Café Nooner. I found it on the web yesterday and it was featured on the Food Network show Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives.”

  “I love that show,” Iris chimed in.

  “Anyway, apparently the owners dropped their corporate jobs, and with zero experience in the restaurant business, they opened this very successful café. They serve some type of Mediterranean-Creole-fusion style food using all local and organic produce.”

  They left the room and Sarah closed the door behind them.

  After lunch, while waiting for change from their bill, Sonia withdrew a paper from her purse. “I discovered another thing we can do this afternoon that’ll help shed at least one ounce of the pounds we just put on.”

  “I’m certainly up for doing something after this meal,” said Sarah. “What is it?”

  “A tour on the historic Madaket.”

  “What’s that? Sounds like a market or something.” Iris said.

  “It’s the oldest continuously operatin
g passenger vessel in the country. Their website says that we’ll learn the history of Humboldt Bay and Eureka’s waterfront during a narrated cruise. It travels along the shores of the bay and the captain explains the local history, points of interests, and wildlife.”

  “Lead on, Macduff,” Sarah said.

  The three exited the restaurant and headed toward C Street, pausing from time to time for window-shopping or to view some local handicraft.

  Down at the dock, they purchased the boarding passes and headed to the front of the boat.

  The Madaket departed, and moments later the captain welcomed everyone aboard. After the cursory safety reminders and emergency procedures, the narration began. “The Madaket is the last remaining vessel of a seven-vessel fleet that once transported families and workers around Humboldt Bay. There were mill workers and longshoremen…”

  Sarah closed her eyes to enjoy the fresh breeze of the bay while the vessel followed the contours of the shore and the captain’s narration continued.

  Departure

  Karla, in designer blue jeans and a long-sleeved white shirt, got on her knees, and dug deep in the back of her closet. The search produced a pair of hiking boots, which she tossed onto the floor. She crossed the room to a chest where she found two pairs of thick socks in a drawer. She slipped one pair on, followed by the boots. The other pair was tossed into a carry-on suitcase along with extra clothing. Karla headed to the bathroom and gathered up her essentials. She closed her suitcase and headed to the living room, where she dropped it by the front door.

  At her desk, she picked up her briefcase, packed her laptop, a notebook, and a couple of books. She grabbed her cell phone and examined it closely, wrote something on a small pad, tore it off, and stuffed it into her shirt pocket.

  Carrying her purse and both her bags, she stepped outside, slamming the door behind her.

  After loading everything into her car, she took off through the streets of San Francisco. She headed north across the Bay Bridge, leaving the city behind.

  Sarah, you must leave. You must help Karla. You must leave, right now!

  Sarah spun around in search of the source of the voice, even though she knew it wouldn’t be there. She escaped to the back of the ship.