Something Wicked

By Craig Conrad

Leighann Baker, Paige Harper's roommate, asks Paul Rice to find her cousin. David Baker, who has suddenly disappeared, leaving his two children behind. Paul naturally helps her, but even before he sets out for Falls Corners, Wisconsin, where the disappearance took place, he discovers that the missing man's wife has also disappeared and the police think Baker had something to do with her disappearance and is hiding from them. Once reaching Falls Corners, Paul finds that the community is enchanted in more ways then one and the area is a hot bed for biped wolf encounters whose ability to change form and look human has enabled them to infiltrate government agencies, including the CIA.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 5, 2020
• ISBN: 9781796093384

Craig Conrad

Author resides in Milwaukee. Wisconsin, has been hooked on mysteries and supernatural thrillers since reading his first H.P. Lovecraft novel. He has written twenty novels, fourteen of them are Paul Rice novels, his reluctant paranormal investigator, with cameo appearances in two others that feature two of his war buddies along with two Dutch Verlander stories, and a collection of short stories.

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SOMETHING

WICKED

CRAIG CONRAD

Copyright © 2020 by Craig Conrad.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 04/03/2020

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CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

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12

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48

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

Something wicked this way comes.

—Shakespeare’s Macbeth

Wisconsin

Sometime in the 1980s

Do you mind if I call you David? Doctor Franklin asked.

No, I don’t mind, Baker said.

Good. We are going to talk, you and I, just a friendly talk about things. Is that all right, David? Just talk?

Yes, that’s fine.

David Baker was in Dr. Emil Franklin’s office, sitting in a comfortable brown leather armchair with his arms on the arms of the chair. The room was subdued with only two lamps burning dimly, both lamps on lamp tables, and quiet, except for the occasion Milwaukee traffic noise that not quite soundlessly made its way up to the tenth floor of the building. Doctor Franklin was sitting in a duplicate chair opposite Baker with a notepad on his lap and a pen in his hand.

I want you to relax, David, just relax. You think you can do that for me?

I’ll try, Baker said, but the lights need to be fixed.

What about the lights—too bright in here? Would you like me to turn one lamp off?

Baker’s heart surged into a quick beat. No, don’t do that. It’s too dark in here. There needs to be more light.

Does the darkness bother you? Doctor Franklin said.

A little—too many shadows.

Doctor Franklin rose from his chair and went around the room, turning on two more lamps, the last two, making the room brighter. He returned to his chair. Is that better?

Baker looked around the room. All the shadows were gone. He nodded. Yes, much better.

Doctor Franklin looked at him. Do you know why you’re here?

Yes, because of the police, he said, and the district attorney’s office. He paused. They want you to determine if I hurt my wife and had anything to do with her disappearance and to see if I’m nuts or not.

Doctor Franklin smiled. Mostly they want to find out what happened to your wife, Laura. Can you tell me that?

Baker didn’t answer immediately. He frowned deeply and said, No, I don’t know what happened to her.

How long were you married?

Eleven years. We’ve been separated for about a year.

Do you love your wife?

Baker thought about that for a while. I did love her. I loved her very much.

You did, but you don’t now? Why is that?

I don’t know if I still love her, Baker said. It’s complicated. She left me for a time and took up with another man. Then she recently left him and wanted to come back to me.

Doctor Franklin nodded. You must have loved her if you took her back.

I took her back because of our kids. I wasn’t sure about the love part.

Do you think your wife decided to leave you again and just took off?

I don’t I know. That’s possible. It was never the same with us when she came back. I couldn’t forget what she did, but I don’t think that’s what happened. She would have told the kids or tried to take them with her.

You never forgave her?

No, I couldn’t—not completely, not yet, anyway. I don’t really know if I can forgive her.

Doctor Franklin nodded. These dreams you’re having, did you start having them after she was gone?

No, I started having them about a month after we moved into the house, and it was just one dream, the same dream over and over again.

How often did you have this dream?

At least three or four times a week, sometimes more, sometimes every night.

Tell me about your dream, David.

It starts in the bedroom, Baker said. I make sure all the lights are turned on. Then I go from room to room through the house, turning on lights and locking doors, even hallway doors. Then I make sure that the front door and the rear door are locked and turn on all the outside lights.

This dream is always the same? No differences?

Baker shook his head. No, it’s always the same.

What do you think this dream is telling you, David? Have you thought about it?

Yes.

Why do you think you’re locking doors and turning on lights?

Baker, a young man thirty years Franklin’s junior, was slow in replying. Franklin, bookish and scruffy in his appearance but not to the extreme of an Albert Einstein, waited with interest for his answer.

After a long pause, Baker looked straight at the doctor. "To keep them out," he said simply.

Weeks Earlier

1

P aige Harper and Leighann Baker entered the inner sanctum office of Natalee Cruz, Paul Rice’s secretary. Both girls were bundled up in heavy winter caps, coats, slacks, gloves, and boots. Natalee looked up, smiled, and came around her desk and greeted the two girls with hugs.

I haven’t seen you gals for a while, Natalee said, studying them. How is everything going? They both looked like they had recovered from their ordeals of over a year ago, especially Leighann who had a very close call with death.

Both girls nodded and agreed that everything was fine.

Leighann has to talk to Paul, Paige said. I’m just riding shotgun. What kind of a mood is he in?

You saw him two days ago, Natalee reminded her. What kind of mood was he in then?

Slightly pensive, Paige said. I know this is his first day back since that trouble in Minnesota.

He’s still pensive, Natalee said. He didn’t tell me everything that happened in Minnesota with Little Bull, but I’d venture to say it had something to do with wolves.

Leighann frowned at her. What makes you say that?

When he came in this morning, Natalee said, he asked me out of the blue if I knew that the moon of January is called the Wolf Moon, the time when wolves came into Indian camps from out of the cold, looking for something or someone they could eat.

Leighann frowned again, deeper, making a face. I don’t get it.

Paige made a frown of her own. I don’t either. What brought that on? When we were together, he didn’t say anything about wolves. What happened in Minnesota anyway? Did he say? Taylor Rawls was with him. Did she say anything? Did you talk to her since she came back?

Neither of them are talking, Natalee said, but that’s typical Paul Rice. All I know are bits and pieces of what went on up there. Taylor wasn’t much help. I talked to her over the phone when they got back. The only thing she did tell me was that I could start calling Paul by his Indian name—Talks-to-Animals—whatever that means. Then she laughed and hung up. Maybe he spent too much time with Little Bull and is turning Native American.

Who’s Little Bull? Paige said.

A Lakota Sioux friend of Paul’s, Natalee said, and a friend of mine. That’s why Paul went up there to help Little Bull.

Has Paul taken on a new case yet? Lieighann said.

Natalee raised her eyebrows in thought. First day back, I doubt it. He hasn’t said anything to me, she said, but there were lots of inquiries for his services. He’s going through them now. Why do you ask?

I want him to take on a case I know he isn’t going to like, Leighann said. Paige told me he doesn’t take on cases from people he doesn’t like or respect, especially rich people.

Natalee nodded and crossed her arms. That’s true. I suppose you two are here to convince him otherwise, but I don’t think you have to worry. Paul wouldn’t deny either of you anything.

Really? Leighann said. Not even if we asked him to help Edison Baker?

Natalee’s eyes widened, and she dropped her arms to her sides. Edison Baker? Paul hates moneyed people who are fueling large amounts of cash into politics trying to make this country in an oligarchy, if it isn’t one already—his words.

I know, Paige said. He says it often enough. That’s why I came along for moral support, but Edison Baker is Leighann’s uncle.

Natalee looked surprised. He is? Does Paul know that?

Not yet, but I’m going to tell him, Leighann said. I’m worried about a missing cousin of mine—Edison Baker’s son.

Good luck with that, Natalee said and paused. I’ll buzz you in. She went back to her desk and pressed the intercom key. Paul answered. Natalee kidded, Are you decent? Paige and Leighann are here to see you.

They are? Paul said surprised. Send them in.

Paul greeted them warmly at his office door. I just saw the both of you two days ago. Is something wrong at the house?

Paige shook her head.

At school?

No, Leighann said.

At work?

It’s not any of those things, Paige said. Leighann has a favor to ask. Maybe more than one favor.

Sounds serious, Paul said. Let me take your coats. You seem well dressed for the cold weather. They stuffed their caps and gloves in their coat pockets as Paul helped them out of their gear. He hung their coats on a coat tree near the door and gestured them to the two chairs facing his desk. They sat, and he hooked one leg over the nearest corner of his desk to them and perched. What’s going on?

Edison Baker is going to come to see you, Leighann said. Do you know him?

I know of him, Paul said. Never met the man. Rich millionaire that feeds money into the party of the rich to keep his personal agendas afloat. I don’t care much for the man. Paul looked at Leighann and thought for a moment. Baker? Your name’s Baker. Don’t tell me that you’re related?

Guilty as charged. He’s my dad’s brother and my uncle, she said. My dad doesn’t much care for him either.

And you do? Paul said.

Leighann shook her head. Not so much, but I like his son, David, my cousin. He’s like the elder brother I never had. We were kind of close. He’s lots like you in some ways. He did two tours in Nam, was decorated, and he’s recently gone missing, just disappeared.

How long has he been gone? Paul said.

A week, Leighann said.

Have the police been informed? Paul said.

They have, Paige said, shifting her eyes to Leighann and then back to Paul. But they said they couldn’t do anything for three days, and now that they’re finally looking, they haven’t found him.

And you know all this, how? Paul said, looking at Paige.

Leighann’s dad told us, Paige said. He’s been keeping us informed. Otherwise, we wouldn’t know anything.

What makes you think your uncle will come here and ask me to find him? Paul said.

I’m going to tell him to, Leighann said.

You get along that good with Edison Baker? Paul said with a slight smile.

No, not really. I don’t have much contact with him, but I know he loves his son, although they don’t get along. Again, like you, David doesn’t like what his father does with his money—influencing politics for his own personal gains and aims. David said that his father and his rich friends were destroying democracy in this country and turning it into an oligarchy. They fought about it all the time. So did my dad when he saw his brother, which was infrequent. They were estranged. My dad’s a staunch democrat and believes the government should be for the benefit of all the people, not just the rich.

Two men after my own heart, Paul said. Does anyone have any idea why your cousin disappeared?

Not really, Leighann said. The cops think he may be hiding because he had something to do with his wife being missing.

Paul raised his eyebrows in surprise. She’s gone too? What about her?

She’s missing too, Paige said. She disappeared first, about a week before he did. Paige looked at her friend. We talked this over, and we think the disappearances have something to do with the house that her cousin recently inherited from his uncle. At least that’s what it seems like.

Paul frowned. This is getting complicated. What house and what uncle is this?

There are three brothers, Paige said, Edison Baker, Cyrus Baker, and Leighann’s father. Paige leveled her eyes at Leighann. Tell him about the brothers and the house.

Cyrus Baker was the eldest, Leighann started. He was well-off but not as well-off as Edison who made his money in Great Lakes Shipping while Cyrus cleaned up in real estate to some extent. Edison is the second eldest. My father is the youngest. Cyrus spent a little time in show business too. He was an amateur illusionist, a magician before he went into it full time as Zolar the Great, and also put some time in as an amateur artist. My father said he was a little odd, but he got along with him better than he did with Edison. Anyway, long story short, Cyrus died and left his house to my cousin, David. He never married, and he always liked David.

Paul nodded. Is this a big house, a mansion?

I don’t know, I never saw it, Leighann said.

Her dad told us the house was like a very large cottage, Paige said. It was kind of like a ranch style, only with some rooms upstairs. He was out there several times. He said the place was nice.

Where is this house? Paul said.

It’s supposed to be near the southern part of the national park glacier, not far from that air force base they were going to build in Wisconsin.

You mean the SAC base, the proposed Bong Air Force Base? Paul said. The one they suddenly stopped building for some reason?

Leighann nodded. Yes, that one.

Who’s Bong? Paige said. How come they’re naming an airbase after him?

Richard Bong was from Wisconsin, Paul said. He was an air ace in the Second World War.

Tell me again what SAC means, Paige said. I can’t keep track of all this military jargon.

Strategic Air Command, Paul said. They’re the boys that fly the bombers that carry the nuclear bombs.

Paige nodded. Oh, those guys.

So where’s this house again? Paul said.

My dad said was it near the town of Falls Creek, Leighann said, not far from the Kettle Moraine State Forest and the abandoned Bong Air Force Base. He said it was pretty country—lots of cornfields and streams once you get past Falls Creek. Leighann paused. One other thing, if you do take this on, I want to go along.

Me too, Paige added.

Paul made a face. That might not be a good idea. What about work?

You’re our boss, Leighann said.

So is Peter, Paul said.

He usually goes along with whatever you say, Paige said and grinned. Doesn’t he? If it’s okay with you, it will be okay with him.

And school? Paul said. What about school?

Winter break, Paige said. Besides, we can catch up. You’ll probably find him in a week.

Paul gave her a steady look. Really? You think it will be that easy?

We have faith in you, Paige said and gave him a confident smile.

Paul looked at them and shook his head. I still think it’s a bad idea. Besides, your uncle hasn’t even hired me.

He will, Leighann said.

One last question, Paul said. Do you think this cousin of yours could have done something to his wife like the cops suspect? How well do you know your cousin?

Leighann shook her head. I know him fairly well, and I know he couldn’t have hurt his wife in any way. He’s not the type. She glanced at Paige. You’ve met him several times, what do you think?

Paige turned to Paul. I agree. I don’t think he’s the type either.

Paul nodded. Okay then. Do you have a picture, just in case?

Paige smiled at him, and Leighann dug in her purse and came out with a snapshot, handing it to him. They’re both on here.

Paul took it and saw an attractive couple sitting together somewhere and smiling back at him. He put the picture in his shirt pocket.

Both girls stood to leave. Paul helped them on with their coats, escorted them into the outer office, and saw them out into the hall.

He closed the outer office door and turned to look at Natalee, who was staring at him.

What? he said. I suppose you heard everything. I left the audio on to your desk so you could.

I heard, she said. Do you think that’s wise taking them along?

It’s Leighann’s party, and she wants to go.

It might be good for Paige to go, but is Leighann well enough?

I think so. She’s been working and going to school without any problems. I think she’s completely healed. Besides, it’s been over a year. He gave her a second look. Why? Did you see something I didn’t?

Natalee shook her head. No, not really. She looks all right. In fact, she looks good. She paused for a moment. "Are you going to break your rule and take a case from, as you lovingly refer, a rich bastard?"

I might. Edison Baker donated four million dollars to the Republican Party’s hard-line conservatives in politics and the judicial system to help get them elected so they could turn our country into a fascist state, which it is vast becoming. Maybe I’ll charge him the same to find his son.

Wow, that’s a lot of money, Natalee said.

It is, Paul said. If he wasn’t such a rich, manipulative, political prick, I wouldn’t charge him anything, but he’s a mentally constipated conservative.

Natalee smiled. He’s got to show up first. You think he will?

Leighann seems to think so, Paul said. We’ll see.

If you were a betting man, Natalee said, what are the odds?

Fifty-fifty, Paul said.

2

T he next day, the political prick called the office and showed up an hour later. Natalee noticed that Edison Baker was an imposing man; well dressed, a three-thousand-dollar suit, made-to-order shoes that must have cost a grand; straight of stature with the commanding countenance of the self-importance of the rich. He wasn’t overly tall, almost like a little Napoleon, with a square face and a lantern jaw and a hundred-dollar haircut. Paul would love him. Natalee got him from her desk and ushered him into Paul’s office, rolled her eyes at Paul as he greeted Baker at the door, and slowly closed the door behind them. She hurried to her desk to listen to the audio feed coming from Paul’s desk to hers, a safety precaution Paul had installed when he opened the office for business. Paul found it a good practice for her to listen in. At times he needed her to hear so she could bear witness to what had been said.

At the door, Paul didn’t bother to take his coat. Edison Baker kept it on but open. Paul didn’t offer his hand either until Baker did, then Paul had no choice but to shake it.

My niece recommended you very strongly, Baker said, eyeing Paul up and down, trying to get the measure of the man. She said you were very good at finding people and could help me find my son.

I can try, Paul said and gestured him to the client chairs. He took one as Paul sat behind his desk and turned on a small tape recorder the size of an elongated cigarette lighter that was on his desk. I’m going to record our conversation, okay? If I take the case, the information you relate to me will help.

Baker nodded and sat halfway in his chair, leaning forward slightly toward Paul’s desk. At least he seemed anxious and concerned, Paul noticed. He had to give him credit for that but not much else. Paul knew a little about him. He was a spoiled rich kid. His father, Collier Baker, made his fortune in shipping and left it all to his sons after his death in 1947, two of which didn’t fair too well, enjoying their shares of the fortune. It seems like all the money wound up in Edison’s hands, who evaded the draft while he and his father made even more money during the Second World War.

How do you know my niece? Baker said.

I met her through her roommate, Paige Harper. Paige is the daughter of a man I served with in Nam.

And you know her well?

Pretty well.

Baker was silent for a time, staring down at the rug before looking up at Paul. The police can’t find my son. Leighann thinks you can and that I should hire you, that you’ve been successful in finding people. Have you been successful, Mr. Rice? He kept his eyes locked on Paul.

You could say that. I’ve been lucky. So far, I’ve found everyone I was hired to find.

Baker smiled to himself. That could just be a boast. How do I know?

It could be, but it’s not. And you don’t know unless you take a chance or check me out. I can give you some names.

Baker nodded, thinking about it. How does Leighann know about you?

From meeting some of my friends and from her roommate, Paige Harper.

Baker nodded again.

What have the police found? Paul asked.

He scoffed. Nothing. They don’t know any more about his disappearance than they do about his wife’s, except that they think he might be responsible for her being missing.

Leighann mentioned that too. Why would the police think that?

Because David and Laura were separated. When he went back to Vietnam on his last tour, his wife walked out on him and took up with another man. My son wanted a divorce when he found out, but she didn’t. In fact, she recently wanted my son to take her back. I told him not to do it, but he did. He said he did for the children’s sake, so when she went missing, the police thought he might be involved because he still harbored bad feelings toward her for walking out on him.

Did he? Paul said.

Baker shrugged. I don’t know. I could see he was hurt, but he never said that he hated her, not to me anyway.

Did he say that to anyone else?

Not that I know of. I think he still loved her. Why, I don’t know after what she did to him.

Sometimes it’s hard to let go, Paul said. There are children?

Yes, a boy and a girl.

How old?

Greg is eight, and Lucy is ten.

Were the children with their parents when they disappeared?

Yes, they were all at that house that my brother Cyrus left David in his will. David went there, trying to decide what to do with the place. Laura went with him.

Where are the children now? Paul said.

They’re with my brother, Clifford, Leighann’s father.

Paul thought for a moment. I take it that your son and his wife were both at the house when they disappeared.

Yes, as far as I know. The children say they were.

Paul nodded. They were at the house, and then they weren’t—is that it?

Yes, that’s what Greg and Lucy told me. They didn’t see what happened. They were outside.

Paul leaned back in his chair. What can you tell me about the house?

Baker frowned. Like what?

Anything peculiar about it?

Not that I know of.

Leighann told me it was a ranch style, only with rooms upstairs. Is that right?

Yes, there are three bedrooms upstairs and a bathroom, if I remember correctly. I’ve only been down there two or three times, but the house struck me as being oddly built.

In what way?

It wasn’t like a normal two-story home. The second floor was more like a loft.

Did your brother build the house?

No, it was already built—in the 1920s or ’30s, I think. My brother just added the modern necessities to it when he bought it.

Paul nodded again. Do you know who owned the house before your brother did?

Baker shook his head. Some silent-screen actor, I think. He gave Paul an odd look. Why? Is that important?

It could be. I always like to get a history of a place and see what it turns up.

Baker looked at him for a long moment. He didn’t understand why that was relevant to his son’s disappearance but said, Will you take this on, Mr. Rice, and find my son? Money is of no consequence. I want my son back. I’ll pay any amount. I’ll pay whatever it costs.

Yes, you will, Paul said.

*     *     *

After they settled on the money, Paul escorted Baker out of his office, left the door open, and watched him leave Natalee’s outer office and step into the hallway, the door closing behind him.

Did you play nice? Natalee said, studying Paul.

Nice enough, Paul said. I got a nice fat check.

Is it what you told me?

Half of that. And half of it now and the other half when I find him—if I find him.

You will. You usually do.

Paul walked over to her desk. Call Paige and Leighann. See if they’re home.

Natalee did and handed Paul the phone when it started ringing. Leighann answered and recognized Paul’s voice.

I hope he hired you, she said. Did he? Are you taking the case?

Yes, I said I told you I would for your sake. Otherwise, I’d tell your uncle to take a hike.

I know. Thank you.

You’re welcome. Your uncle said your father has a key to the house.

He does.

Good. I also understand that he has the grandchildren with him. It might be a good idea to take them along for starters, if they’re willing to go.

They are, but why would you need them? Leighann said.

Maybe seeing the place again will trigger some memories that might shed some light on what happened at the home. Your uncle said that the children were both there when their parents disappeared, Paul said. What they remember could help.

Okay. When do we leave? she said.

Tomorrow morning, Paul said.

3

H ard to believe, Paul thought, but Falls Creek was the third largest city in Wisconsin, after Milwaukee and Madison. It wasn’t spread out in area like Milwaukee or built around four lakes like Madison, the two largest being Mendota and Monona, but it took a while to travel through it. The town was named after Joseph Falls, a Civil War general in the Northern Army who distinguished himself at Gettysburg and died in the process. Thus, the town was named after him to honor his service and sacrifice.

The city of Falls Creek abruptly ended onto a black ribbon of two-lane highway, County Highway 35, and into a picturesque countryside setting of farms, cornfields, streams, and wooded areas. Beyond that, to the right was the southern end of the Kettle Moraine State Park. Ten miles from Falls Creek, there was a scattering of dwellings that resembled an afterthought but was actually a very small hamlet-like village called Falls Corners. Past that, also to the right, about another ten miles, was the defunct Bong Air Force Base, now resurrected into the Richard Bong State Recreation Area. Beyond Bong were more farms and fields and woods before the farms turned into an expanse of large expensive homes strung out on both sides of the road. Five minutes of travel farther, the homes dwindled in size to smaller and more practical ones that were probably owned by people lower on the economic ladder until Paul found the house they were looking for.

Cyrus Baker’s home was neither as large nor as expensive-looking as the homes Paul had passed. Made up of half fieldstone and half siding that resemble wood, the house did look like an enchanted cottage, even though it was too large to be called a cottage, but everything, including the house and grounds, looked well kept. Paul followed the driveway, which was a good fifty yards from the road that serviced all the homes built out here. The dirt service road branched off HWY 35, past the house to the driveway and to a large unattached two-car garage that appeared to have a second floor attached to it. There were still traces of snow on the ground here and in the area that hadn’t melted during the past week of January thaw spoiling people with temperatures close to 50 degrees. Two large blue spruce evergreens that were at least sixty feet high decorated the front lawn.

Paul parked near the front walk entrance, and everyone got out—Paige and Leighann, including Greg and Lucy, whom Paul had picked up at the home of Leighann’s parents in Lake Geneva when he stopped to get the house key for Cyrus Baker’s home. As was their concern for Leighann, Leighann’s father and mother were deeply concerned that their grandchildren were going to that house again. Paul had inadvertently heard some of their conversation:

In lieu of what happened, Mr. Baker said, I don’t think it’s safe for you or the children to go out there.

Something else could happen, Mrs. Baker added. Then what? You just got over being sick.

Nothing’s going to happen, Leighann assured them, and if it does, I’m with Paul, and so are Greg and Lucy. What could be safer than that?

You trust him that much? Mrs. Baker said.

Don’t you, after what happened to me last year? Leighann said, calling their memories back to her operation and the attempt on her life.

She has a point, Mr. Baker had to admit. Paul did take care of everything and kept Leighann safe.

It’s beautiful out here, Paige said to Paul as she took in the scenery and brought him mentally back from Lake Geneva. Don’t you think so?

Paul was lost in thought for a moment, also looking around at the surrounding landscape. He turned to her. Yes, it is beautiful, he said, and a little mysterious, which he did not say. Let’s take a look inside.

He walked to the front door and opened it, which led to a very small entryway and to another door that opened into a large living room complimented with a piano and a fireplace. To the right of that was a dining room with table and chairs, and beyond that was a well-equipped kitchen with all the necessary appliances—range, refrigerator, and dishwasher—adequate for whatever cooking you wanted to do and the rear door leading out to the back of the house. On the front of the refrigerator was a magnetized pink ribbon breast cancer survivor’s card with the name of Brenda Lafferty on it. Paul thought it odd for a man to have that on his refrigerator—unless it was for a friend.

Moving on, they found stairs to the second floor at the end of the living room that ended at a large door-enclosed study. The ceilings were low, so the second floor looked more like a loft than it did a second story. The three bedrooms upstairs were roomy and about all the same size. The bathroom at the far left end of the narrow hallway that ran the length of the upstairs was about twice the size of the downstairs bathroom off the living room, which contained only a walk-in shower and toilet and no tub.

Back in the kitchen, they found more stairs leading to a basement that looked, at first glance, as a normal basement would. A pantry, the first room at the end of the stairs and to the right, held canned goods and household supplies. Another room was to the immediate left of the stairs, housing a washer and dryer and a laundry chute. Beyond that was the largest part of the basement, containing the water heater, furnace, two makeshift workbenches with tools hanging on the walls above them, and several metal shelf units with five shelves each that were stacked with various storage boxes.

All the furniture, up and down, looked comfortable and well taken care of, including a piano in the living room near the front windows. The study was another story. There was a desk, a number of lamp tables, bookshelves covering three walls, a desk, and lots of pagan statues from various parts of the world. A number of dark paintings that Paul couldn’t quite make out covered the one wall that didn’t hold a bookshelf.

Paul looked at Leighann. You said this uncle of yours was into magic and art. From the looks of this room, he was into more than that. There’s lots of pagan art here.

Leighann smiled and shrugged. What can I say? I didn’t know him that well. My dad said he was a little odd.

Are any of these statues familiar to you? Paige asked Paul.

Some, not all.

There sure are plenty of lamps in every room, Leighann said. I wonder why.

Yeah, I noticed that too, Paul said. Even down in the basement, there were a number of extra ceiling lights. He also noticed that Greg and Lucy hadn’t followed Paige and Leighann into the study but stood in the doorway, quietly looking around. They were quiet on the drive out here too, Paul thought, too quiet for kids their age. Was it fear or worry for their parents? He was beginning to think that it might have been a mistake to bring them here.

Well, let’s unload the car, Paul said. Then you gals and the kids can pick which bedrooms you want.

Everyone helped unload the station wagon, a sort of low-slung SUV, which Paul rented, even though Peter told him to use his van. Paul didn’t like driving vans that much, especially in the winter months. They were roomy, sure, but they were also boxy and hard to keep on snow-covered roads, especially during a windy day.

The kids are sure quiet, Paul said in a low voice.

I know, Paige said.

They’re probably worried about their parents, Leighann said. They wanted to come. Maybe they’ll lighten up when they’ve been here awhile.

Paul brought the luggage upstairs and left it in the hallway for everyone to take and decide where they wanted to sleep. The hallway overlooked the downstairs living room over a four-foot-high oak railing. While the sleeping arrangements were being made upstairs, Paul brought in the groceries they had purchased in town and set them down on the countertop near the sink. He opened the refrigerator doors, which was a two-door affair with a bottom freezer. There were some food in the refrigerator and some freezer bags with meat and TV dinners in the freezer.

He closed the refrigerator door as Paige entered the kitchen. What have you discovered? she asked.

There’s some food still in the fridge that probably will have to be tossed. No telling how long it’s been in there. So where are we sleeping?

Greg and Lucy wanted the middle bedroom. I told Leighann to take the first room on the right. It would be better for her. That left us with the bedroom next to the bathroom. Is that okay? I had a feeling that no one really wanted that bedroom to sleep in for some reason.

Yes, that’s fine, Paul said, thinking. Why do you suppose that is—that no one wanted that bedroom? Did the children say? Are they afraid of it?

"They didn’t say one way or the other, but I don’t blame them. Who wants to sleep in a bedroom next to a bathroom in a house where two people disappeared—shades of Psycho. It’s kind of spooky, and that’s your department."

Leighann came into the kitchen followed by Greg and Lucy. What are you two up to? she said.

Checking the food supply, Paige said.

What do you want to do, Paul? Leighann said.

Clean out the frig and put our groceries away. Then I’d like to take a look around outside before driving into town for something to eat.

Greg’s and Lucy’s faces lit up.

Oh good, can we go too? Greg said. We can show you the woods.

The woods are neat, Lucy said. There are lots of ponds with water lilies and everything.

The woods? Paul said. You mean those that are in the back of the house?

Yeah, those, Greg said. My dad said they’re called Falls Woods, and they run forever in both directions, but there are all kinds of paths and trails, and Lucy and me have been on some of them. We can show you if we can go along.

Lucy, those ponds should be frozen this time of the year, Leighann said.

But they’re not, Lucy said. They never are. They’re always the same.

Leighann raised a skeptical eyebrow and glanced at Paul. She didn’t want to argue with the child.

Paul shrugged. Sure, you can go, he said. We’ll all go.

The backyard was as long and wide as the front lawn, running up to a wooded area that started at the end of the yard’s grass and extended right and left as far as the eye could see. Paul guessed that the woods must have run through the backyards of all the houses that had been built out here. Greg and Lucy ran ahead and immediately found their favorite trail.

This trail leads to a pretty lily pond, Lucy announced. Wait till you see it.

There were forest noises all around them—birds chirping, small animals chattering, and trees creaking—but they didn’t see any birds or animals anywhere, and there wasn’t a trace of snow anywhere to be seen in the woods. Paul had a sudden uneasy feeling as he looked around and followed the children. He looked at the others for their reaction—the children were unsuspecting and happy to be here, Leighann seemed unconcerned, but Paige seemed slightly troubled as she returned his look. The children stopped suddenly at the edge of a small lily pond. There were water lilies and other flowers growing in and out of the water, which wasn’t frozen. The pond looked as it might during a summer day.

Isn’t it beautiful? Lucy said excitedly.

Yes, it’s lovely, Leighann said, stepping closer. But how is that possible?

Yes, very lovely, Paige agreed and glanced at Paul. She moved forward, knelt slightly, and tested the water with her hand, shaking it dry and straightening up. The water’s lukewarm. Paige looked better than she did minutes ago. Her troubled concern seemed to be gone.

Paul nodded. There’s probably some warm springs running under Falls Woods.

There are other ponds just like this one, Greg said, some bigger, some smaller. My dad said that was because there was a stream near here a long time ago.

Did your father always come into the woods with you? Paul said.

At first, he did, Greg said, then he just let us come and play as long as he knew where we were going.

What about your mother, did she come into the woods? Paul said.

She came a couple of times, Lucy said, still fascinated with the pond, but not as often as Daddy did.

Leighann exchanged looks with Paige, and they both glanced at Paul with questioning eyes, both wondering what Paul was getting at. Paul wanted to ask the children where their mother and father were when they disappeared, but he didn’t want to push them. That could wait. They just got here.

Just then the woods fell completely silent for a long minute before a rush of wind moved through the trees and a large gathering of birds flew above the treetops, making a racquet. They appeared to be crows, and their incessant cawing sounded like crow chatter. They also seemed to be flying in a tight circle, hovering above them and not flying on.

We’d better go, Paul said.

The path circles around the pond, Greg said.

We’d better go back the way we came, Paul said.

The crows followed them out of the woods, across the back lawn, all the way to the house, hovering for minutes as if waiting for everyone to enter the house before leaving and flying back into the woods. Paul watched them from the kitchen through the window of the outer storm door as everyone stood silently behind him in the kitchen.