Spirit Keeper 2: Exoneration

By Mary Diggs

Love is a powerful emotion. It can defeat hate. To love so deeply to give your life is biblical. True love can be so strong that it reaches from the grave to speak to us.

Spirit Keeper 2: "Exoneration" is Mary Diggs' second installment of a coming-of-age story that speaks to two extraordinary young people and their struggles to help each other stay alive while helping the living as well as the dead.

Because this is a story about the power of love intwined with the impossible, Abby, now eighteen years old, a sensitive, beautiful woman of color whose full name is Abby Je Louange Verite Manning, which speaks to her rich French legacy of a secret order of gifted truth seekers. She is a gifted artist, brought from New York to live in a hidden away town in Texas to escape the fear of her brutal abductor, which left her with PTSD. While fighting to survive being bullied, she wishes to put an end to bullying in the Hamilton Valley School District by establishing an art appreciation class she calls "The Art of Saving One" (TAOSO).

Kenton Leon Baker, now, a handsome, twenty-year-old master martial artist and former teenage bodyguard, a product of Greek/French/American parents, comes from Seattle, Washington to live with his father and search for his calling. The first time he sees Abby, he is drawn to her and risked his life to save her from a deadly fall in a famous Texas cavern, which is her third life's catastrophe known to the Spirit Keeper secret order as a 'trial.' Unbeknown to both, are the impossible powers found in the ancient Verite ancestral album, that give deep meaning to their quest to exonerate a century old confession, to bring honor to a disgraced girl spirit named Bethany, and to cleanse the town of its corrupt secrets enhanced by a drug and sex trafficking cult. All will lead to the deadly fourth trial.

But until a missing page of instructions lost from the ancient family album is found, the fourth deadly trial rules, and evil reigns.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 18, 2024
• ISBN: 9798889601289

Book preview

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Spirit Keeper 2

Exoneration

Mary Diggs

Copyright © 2023 Mary Diggs

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2023

Cover Art by Mary Diggs

ISBN 979-8-88960-127-2 (pbk)

ISBN 979-8-88960-128-9 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

About the Author

In memory of my late husband, Dennis L. Diggs

Monday's child is fair of face.

Tuesday's child is full of grace.

Wednesday's child is full of woe.

Thursday's child has far to go.

Friday's child is loving and giving.

Saturday's child works for a living.

And a child born on the Sabbath day,

Is bonny and blithe, good and gay.

Chapter 1

Kent

The noonday Texas sun had no mercy as I drove from the Manning home to the Baker and Simmons Construction site. I could still hear Abby's soft, delicately pitched voice that reminded me of the sound my mom's pearl necklace made while gliding over her velvet dress when I was nine. Abby said she loves me! I whispered with a smile. Though she'd said those words while in a drugged state in the hospital, hearing her speak those words while glancing at me blew me away. My heart felt as if it would burst as I laughed out loud. I'll love you always, Abby Manning! I knew I loved her the first time I saw her.

Stopping at a red light, I pushed into the player a mixed CD containing my favorite songs and listened to our favorite song by Savage Garden that we had danced to at Becky's sham-of-a-party before she bared her claws. When the light changed to green, I made the turn on Hamilton Avenue, which ran through the historic district. I looked up at the two looming nineteenth-century Hamilton mansions, said to be haunted, sitting majestically on the top of the hill. Suddenly, a dark cloud blocked out the sun as if predicting doom. My thoughts strayed to all the dangers in Abby's life, causing me to frown. I thought to myself, Her family name, Vérité, deems her to find the truth while taking care of a dishonored ghost. As Spirit Keeper, she must restore honor to her young, precocious girl spirit who looks like her. It's amazing. She's amazing.

When the sun moved from the clouds, the light burst forth. It was as enlightening as knowing that the young spirit was identified as BJ's murdered sister, Bethany, which no one had mentioned until Abby drew her image. I clenched my teeth in anger over the injustice of how Bethany's case lay silent for twelve years as if she didn't exist. Then came all the craziness of Abby being targeted because she might be the only one alive able to identify the monster who kidnapped her. I gripped the steering wheel, thinking of the strange vendetta pinned in a deadly riddle by some insane person that called her the sacrifice. I let out a loud exhale, knowing that the only way I could save her would be to play this deadly game with someone who obviously loathes my dad.

I jumped, hearing my cell phone ring. It was Captain Somers speaking loudly in his command voice. Kent, tell Abby to inform her art class that there were several abductions in our area. Tell them to never go out alone.

Thanks, Capt. I'll tell her. My hair rose on the back of my neck, knowing how this news would upset her, thinking that her students might be abducted like she had been. I'd have to tell her in person. I rubbed the raised hair on the back of my neck as the car sped around the curve, passing the Pine Top Ravine where her kidnapper tried to run us over the side. I thought, He still doesn't know that her suppressed memory prevents her from identifying him.

As I was nearing the construction site, my cell phone rang again. This time, I quickly answered. It was my dad's bodyguard, Mr. George Hunt, who was helping me protect Abby. Mr. Hunt's voice had an edge to it. Something's wrong, he said. You need to come back to see this. Sounding more puzzled and worried than angry, he continued, I know what it is, but I need you to see.

I wheeled the car around midway through an intersection and headed to the city limits. Going over the speed limit, I worried too. I quickly turned into Manning's driveway again.

Rushing through the back door, I met Mr. Hunt. Is Abby okay? What is it? I asked.

Physically, Abby's fine. The caller must have scared her though.

Caller? What caller?

Mr. Hunt answered, beckoning me to follow him to her room, She's in the attic, but first, I need you to see this. Abby answered her cell phone. The problem is, we didn't hear the ring to intercept the call.

That is a problem. I frowned, helping Mr. Hunt move the nightstand from the wall to uncover the telephone jack. Kneeling, I saw that my wire had been disconnected and a different wire attached to Abby's cell phone base extending behind the bed's headboard to the window. We both stared at each other as I asked, Did you ask Ms. Rachel? Maybe she knows something.

I did, Mr. Hunt replied, rubbing his chin. Yesterday, while I drove Abby to Dr. Harbors's office for her follow-up, Ms. Rachel said that the lights went out, and a man dressed in uniform came to the door. She let him in to check upstairs. Come to think of it, when we returned, I noticed how strange Knight acted. One monitor was offline, but I didn't think it was important at the time. I'm sorry, Kent. I should have checked all equipment then.

It's okay, Mr. Hunt. I could see his consternation because it happened on his watch. You found the problem, and now we can fix it. It was rigged so someone could communicate with Abby without us knowing. I noticed a torn piece of what seemed to be an expensive business card lying on the floor. I examined the piece handling it with a rubber glove kept in my pocket. For safekeeping, I wrapped the piece in the glove and put it back in my jeans' back pocket. After that, I checked all phone connections in the house. Mr. Hunt removed the bypass wire and went downstairs while I went to the attic. Whatever happened over the phone must have upset her enough to consult her father's Vérité family album, which I called Book of the Dead.

Walking up the steps to the attic door, I could hear her thinking aloud…or talking to someone, maybe, Bethany. I couldn't tell.

Wednesday's child. Wednesday's child, no! I can't go there.

Abby, are you okay?

Kneeling on the floor, she looked up. I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have answered the phone, but it kept ringing and—

It's okay, Abby. I touched her hair. You don't need to apologize. Someone tampered with your phone, and Mr. Hunt and I couldn't intercept the call. But it's taken care of now.

She stood searching the room. It was obvious that she was looking for something. So I asked, May I help?

There's a page missing, and I need to find it before it's too late!

Before what's too late? Seeing how desperate she looked, I joined in the search. It was as if she had a deadline to meet. Tell me. Are you upset because of the missing page, or is it because of the strange caller?

She glanced up at me with her big light green eyes and said nothing, and that answered my question. She'd tell me in her own time, so I simply continued searching. As she moved her fallen hair from her face, I saw worry.

It has to be in this room!

Could it be lost inside the trunk? I asked, proceeding to lift the lid when I noticed Abby kneeling again, shaking some discarded things on the floor.

Kent. He called me Wednesday's child. Her teary eyes saddened as she took in a shaky breath and let it out. His voice made me…physically ill. Holding back her fallen hair from her face, she continued, I was so happy about us…until I heard his raspy voice calling me that name, saying I'll never marry you. Threatening me. I was nine when that name became mine. She softly cried.

I held her close, hearing about the monster from her past who brainwashed her for days. Don't let him in, Abby. We'll get through this, and we will do it together.

After a while, she stood, wiped her tears away, then smiled. Seeing her smile, I smiled, sighed, and said, Let's look in the book again. Maybe it was overlooked.

Abby took the Vérité box out of the trunk and placed it on the table. Standing near her, I watched her carefully take her family's beautiful ancient album, with engraved artistry worthy of French nobility, from its wooden box. Leafing through its pages, she found the place where the page was missing. I saw such elegant penmanship written in French. I asked, What does it say?

I can only read the translation to you.

I listened to her captivating voice read, and silently, I followed along. Reaching the last paragraph that led to the most important instructions on how to defeat the fourth trial of exoneration. These instructions would stop the family's gift from turning into a curse. As she neared the end of the page, the last line ended with the words the instructions are…, and then all stopped abruptly. Nothing matched on the adjacent page. We looked at each other with absolute confoundment of incompleteness. We were left hanging.

I'm running out of time, Kent, Abby said, looking anxious. I need that missing page now. I don't know how to defeat the last trial—I feel helpless. Though I haven't found Bethany's murderer and her body, I need that missing page immediately. She frantically threw old clothes from the bottom of the trunk to the floor as she searched.

Three times, I watched her shaking clothing and searching pockets of old jackets until I picked up a red accordion folder and said, Check in this file. Maybe it's in here.

No, Kent. That's Mama's file. She dismissed it. Daddy told me Mama packed it away for safekeeping. She searched the bookshelves while I looked on the floor behind and under the trunk.

By the missing page being so fragile, I wondered if it had withstood being outside of the book or its box. Abby, it's not here, I said, putting everything back in the trunk while she reluctantly and carefully placed the antique album back in its wooden box and gently placed it on top of her daddy's military uniform. Then I closed the lid.

Finally, leaving the attic, we entered her bedroom. Seeing how tired she was, I helped her to bed. My lady, you've had a very eventful day. You're still under doctor's orders to rest. And after you've rested, we can have our first official date. Checking my wristwatch, I said, I will pick you up at nineteen hundred hours, military time, meaning 7:00 p.m. sharp. Be ready.

Official, huh? Where are we going? she asked, laughing tiredly.

It's a stone's throw away…down the hall, turn to the left, take the stairs, and you are there.

Oh. Our date is in the family room. She laughed again, turning away from me, and said, Sounds great. She yawned. See you then.

Sleep well, my lady. I hated to leave her, but I needed to check the construction site. Letting Mr. Hunt know I was leaving, I headed for the site. My cell phone rang for the third time. Yes, BJ. I'm on my way.

With my mind not on the work at the site, I pulled to the side of the road, put on my hard hat, and joined in with the discussion at hand concerning the anonymous client's mansion. I nodded a lot, trying to seem interested. Finally, taking in an oversized breath of air, I let it out and got down to the business at hand.

Chapter 2

Abby

Glancing through the sliding doors leading to the patio, I watched Kent and his dog, Knight, carefully checking every inch of the backyard. I shivered though I wore my warm hoody, jeans, and socks because a cold front had blown in. I beamed, remembering the warmth of his kiss that happened hours ago. But remembering that moment brought the memory of the threatening voice over the phone that reiterated the fact that I was still someone's target. The voice was from my traumatic past that predicted my doomed future with Kent. Glancing up at the sky through loblolly pine trees, I wondered if secret words of love were revealed throughout the universe. It seemed that finding the truth about Bethany's death and my falling in love were linked. Even Mama hired him to protect me. Shaking my head, I tried to remove those thoughts.

Just as darkness fell over the backyard, the sensors turned on the accent lighting. I moved away from the sliding door. Closing my eyes, I massaged my scalp to relieve my throbbing head. I wondered why Bethany hadn't visited. I hadn't heard from her since BJ saw the sketch I'd made of her. As I was walking to the sofa, a calming sensation came over me. Somehow, I could feel her near, watching. Waiting. It was good knowing that my spirit was BJ's sister, Bethany. I hoped I wouldn't mess this up because it was my life and Bethany's reputation at stake.

Finally, I heard Kent come inside through the mud room. I picked up a magazine and sat on the sofa with my socked feet tucked under me, pretending to enjoy my reading.

Laying the magazine down, I watched him competently doing his job. He became my distraction. Gazing at him, I felt my face morph into a look of admiration.

Be there in a sec, Kent said, rushing to the kitchen. The date is about to begin.

He was upbeat, humming while making noise and moving dishes, obviously looking for a bowl. Knowing how he loved making me laugh to brighten the moment, I found myself doing just that. Then a Mona Lisa smile of intrigue slowly crossed my lips as I said, Okay.

Let's get this official date on the way! he shouted from the kitchen.

Finally, we were going to watch The Last Dragon. Hearing the popcorn fall into the bowl, I put my hair up in a ponytail and watched him enter the room. I really wanted to have one relaxing evening free of the cares that plagued us. Kent entered, wearing warm-ups, carrying the bowl of popcorn that he sat on the coffee table. He had a pleased look as he plopped down next to me.

Placing his arm around my shoulders, he said, Are you feeling better?

I'm fine, I said, not wanting to go into it.

While you were resting, I looked up Wednesday's child on the Internet. I'd heard it before, but I wanted to know its meaning. It's a line from an old English poem sometimes used to teach children the days of the week or to give character traits of children born on certain days.

I always wondered why I was Wednesday's child since I was born on a Monday. But I soon learned the reason. I was made…to say that poem…over and over. I know you're trying to help me remember my past, but could we do it another time? My words were sharp with an uncomfortable ache.

What? he questioned and added. Abby, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking.

It's all right. Let's just relax and enjoy the movie. I deserved a break.

As I was resting my head on his shoulder, he pressed play on the remote. As the beginning credits started, Knight began to growl softly, looking toward the front door. Then we heard the front doorbell ring. Kent quickly pressed pause on the remote and started for the door. I curiously followed him. Becoming bodyguard again, Kent motioned for me to go back and commanded Knight to stay by my side as he removed his gun from his holster. At the glass door, he whispered, It's just the guard. Putting his weapon away, he spoke with the policeman. Then I heard another man's voice interrupt them.

I just need to speak to Mr. Kent Baker. The man spoke in a tired, husky Texas drawl. It concerns Benjamin Thomason. I'm Joshua Madison Sr. It's important that I speak with Baker. Now!

Opening the door, Kent said to the policeman, It's all right, Victor. Thanks. As the policeman left, Kent asked, Mr. Madison?

Yes, Joshua Madison Sr.

Come in, sir. I'm Kent Baker. Kent's face lightened as he closed the door behind Mr. Madison. While leading him into the family room, he made introductions. Mr. Madison, this is Abby Manning. As Mr. Madison shook my hand, Kent offered him a seat. I sat on the sofa with Knight by my side.

The man frowned, glancing at both of us, and then he referenced, You're Baker? Why, you're just a youngster. And you're carrying a gun. You're Devin's son?

Yes, sir, Kent answered in a polite manner. Would you like to see my credentials, sir?

Mr. Madison shook his head. That won't be necessary, son. I'd heard about you and…I just thought you were much older. It really doesn't matter now. He shifted and sat back in the armchair. So you both have been asking about my sons, Josh and Jerry…implicated in…the incident of the missing girl.

I frowned, thinking that his conversation would turn confrontational. I didn't think I could bear to hear any more negativity.

As he paused, he shook his head, glancing at Kent and me, and proceeded. That's not true. You need the truth. I came to set the record straight about the little Thomason girl's…murder.

I could feel his sincerity and sadness. Mr. Madison was a tall, gray-haired, slender-built man wearing a button-down shirt and pants. He sat bent over as if carrying the entire weight of the universe on his frail back.

Listen, he said in a shaky but quarrelsome voice. After all these years, you've conjured up a nightmare…that I thought was done with. I just want to put this matter to rest. It's like a wound that won't heal unless properly cared for, and I know only the truth will cause healing.

Now seeing the truth in his eyes, I sat silently, carefully listening, studying him as an artist would study a portrait. Life's pain had visibly left its mark in every wrinkle and careworn line on his face that ran and overlapped like the roads and rivers running through the Texas landscape. His eyes were dark, deep-set, nestled under wild eyebrows above high cheekbones. Yet through his eyes, I saw a loving, sincere heart. Mr. Madison, I asked. What can you tell us, sir?

He stared at me for a moment and then said, I know the truth. I wish I didn't, but I do. My sons got involved with a terrible drifter who did terrible things. I had no idea that they would take part in selling drugs or, much worse, a murder. With weary eyes, he glanced at me and then at Kent. After my boys got off with community service, I moved them away from this town so they could live in peace. I thought they were innocent. I understand now why there wasn't any peace for Jerry. He just withdrew. Then one October night three years ago, Josh talked him into taking a ride to Bellville, Texas, to the Austin County Fair, but coming home, there was an accident. Josh was driving while intoxicated, lost control of the car, and crashed while speeding dangerously down 36 between Sealy and Bellville, Texas. Josh died from internal bleeding with only one small scratch on his chin. But… Mr. Madison stopped, overcome with heartbreak, wringing his hands as tears spilled down his face. Then he continued, But Jerry, the youngest of the twins, didn't die that kind of death. He died of another kind. He's paralyzed from the neck down.

He wiped his eyes. One evening, a week or so, a friend came over to visit and told me about Devin Baker's son, you, and a girl asking a lot of questions about the missing child's case. Jerry overheard the conversation. He confessed to me that night—told me he wanted to see BJ and his father. And after the meeting, he wants to turn himself over to the authorities. I was in shock. I didn't know what to do until Deacon Millings called me again today. So here I am.

Why does Jerry want to see BJ and Mr. Thomason? Kent asked.

To make things right. Mr. Madison stared up at Kent with sad eyes. Please, I'm asking that it be done this way for Jerry's sake. I feel he was left here for this reason. I know my sons. If Josh had been the one left…he'd never have told the truth.

My eyes filled with tears, feeling Mr. Madison's anguish and his earnest desire to carry out his son's wishes. Clearing my throat, I said, We'll see if they'll agree to the meeting, sir.

After Mr. Madison left, my glance met Kent's as we stood at the door. There wasn't a word that could describe our mixed feelings. It was a feeling of elation for the positive progress but sorrow for Mr. Madison and for us at the realization of our difficult task. It would take a miracle to bring the two families together with careful thought. With nothing to say, I slowly walked toward my bedroom. Kent and Knight followed. I felt the weight of another uncertainty with each step. But backing down wasn't an option. Completing my duty as Spirit Keeper seemed