Suffocating Secrets Page 5

  Mary stared with fright in her eyes. “Can you believe there’s a killer loose in Virginia? He’s killed two people. What is this world coming to, Natalie? These are the reasons I don’t own a television set. The news is so negative and depressing. The media always seems to focus on all the bad stuff.”

  “Great-grandma, we’ve got to go. Let me help you up. We can talk more about this on the plane.”

  We didn’t make it back in time. The gate was closed. I glanced out the window and watched as our plane taxied down the runway.

  I sighed heavily. At least I found Mary. That’s all the matters.

  Planes had always given me major anxiety. I’d always had a gut-wrenching feeling every time the plane takes off, like something bad would happen. I had a terrible dream the day after I had booked our flight. The plane engine had issues in midflight, and it caught on fire. Flames blazed red hot and wild. The fear felt too real. The plane hurtled downward at tremendous speeds, similar to the feeling when a roller coaster plummets at full speed and I can’t scream, my throat dropping to the pit of my stomach and I can’t catch my breath. I loved the thrill and excitement, but, at the same time, I hated it, always afraid something would go wrong, like the wheels would leave the track and we’d all crash down. It’s a weird love/hate thing. I can’t get enough of the thrill; it’s intoxicating but scary.

  Later that night in the hotel, after Mary had fallen asleep, I flipped on the news.

  Breaking News: Flight 458 from Chicago to Minneapolis crashed, leaving no survivors. The cause for the crash is under investigation.

  My eyes widened with fear as dread fell upon me like a crashing wave.

  We were supposed to be on that flight!

  Bad Luck

  “Just lovely!” I slammed my fists against the steering wheel. “What else is going to go wrong on this trip?”

  I opened the rental car’s driver side door and walked to the passenger side. I kicked the flat tire in frustration. I paced back and forth, cussing and shaking my fists in the air.

  “Just great! Great-grandma, can you pop the trunk?” I yelled from the rear of the car.

  The trunk popped open, and I searched the spare tire well, but it was empty. “No spare? Are you kidding me!”

  I slammed the trunk and grabbed my cellphone from the car. “I called roadside assistance. They said they would get a driver here in an hour. I saw a gas station a mile back if you’re hungry. You think you could walk two miles?”

  Mary chuckled. “I may be old, but I’m not disabled. I do have two legs, sweetheart.”

  “Or we can just sit here and wait. It’s up to you.”

  “We’ve been doing a lot of sitting. Let’s stretch our legs. I could use a coffee.”

  Twenty minutes later, we arrived at Casey’s General Store. I ordered a sandwich, and Mary made a coffee.

  “This sandwich, and she has a small coffee.” I pointed to Mary sitting at a nearby table. I handed the store keeper my card.

  “I apologize, but our internet is down.” A short plump lady with streaks of gray hair and a small button-nose pointed to a sign next to the register. “We can only accept cash and local checks at this time.”

  I fumbled through my purse, looking for change, but all I had was a couple quarters, a dime, and three pennies—clearly not enough to cover my sandwich and Mary’s coffee. “We’re from Virginia. We flew in last night. Our rental got a flat tire about a mile away. We walked here, since roadside assistance said they couldn’t come for an hour. I’m sorry, but all I have is my card. Will this at least cover the coffee?” I held out all the change I had in my hand.

  “Your sandwich and coffee are on the house,” the lady said with a big grin.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course. Sounds like you ladies are having a rough day.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. You’re very kind,” I replied with a smile.

  “Where are you ladies headed to?”

  “Astoria.”

  “I’ve heard of the town, just not sure exactly where it’s at.”

  “My great-grandma lived there almost her entire life. She moved to Virginia to be close to us when I was just five years old. Astoria has a population of about sixty people. I think it’s by a town called Toronto.”

  “Oh yeah. I’ve heard of Toronto. They have a diner known for their good food. I’ve been meaning to get up there one of these days and try it out, just haven’t made it yet. I believe it’s called Toronto Café.”

  “Nice to know. I’ll have to try it out while we’re here. Thanks for the sandwich and coffee. We really appreciate it.”

  “Yeah, no problem at all. Hope your day gets better.”

  I smiled. “Thanks.”

  “Great-grandma, we better get back to the car before the tow truck shows up and we’re not there.”

  “I can give you a ride,” the storekeeper hollered.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, no problem at all. I’ll just lock the front door and hang the Closed sign. No one will probably show up in the short five minutes I’m gone anyways.”

  “Thank you!”

  “I never caught your name. My name is Julie.” Julie extended her hand.

  “Hi, Julie. My name is Isabella, but most people just call me Bella.” I gently shook her hand.

  “Well, Bella, it’s nice to meet you. Have a safe rest of your trip.”

  “Thanks, Julie, for the coffee, sandwich, and ride.”

  “No problem at all. Glad I could help,” Julie said with a smile.

  We reached the car just in time. The tow truck pulled behind the rental when Julie let us out of the car. In no time flat, the mechanic fixed the tire, and we were on our way. No pun intended.

  ***

  “Seriously, what the hell is going on now?” I asked through gritted teeth.

  The car’s engine sputtered and stopped. I had just enough time to coast to the shoulder before it completely died.

  “Just lovely!” I yelled.

  I looked at the gages, and the gas tank read Empty. How did I not notice? I guess I had just assumed when we left the rental place that it had a full tank of gas. I figured we had enough to get us to Astoria but apparently not. I grabbed my phone, but I had no service. I exited the vehicle and walked with my phone held above my head, trying to find a signal. Nothing.

  “You won’t get any service out here. It’s a dead zone,” Mary said as she hung out the passenger window.

  “What are we going to do?”

  “If you walk a little farther, you might pick up a bar or two. Just don’t know how far you have to walk. You might get lucky.”

  “This trip has been nothing but unlucky!” I snapped and immediately felt bad. Mary hadn’t done anything wrong; this wasn’t her fault. I sighed heavily. “I’ll be back.”

  I walked for ten minutes before I got a bar and could place a phone call. But, just as someone answered the other end, the call dropped.

  “Dammit!” I kicked a rock into the ditch.

  I spun around and heard a car approaching; although I couldn’t see it yet. Maybe if I flag them down, they could somehow help us.

  The car came into view, and I waved my arms. The car slowed and pulled over.

  “Do you know where the closest gas station is?” I asked.

  “Yeah, about six miles east of here. Do you need a ride?” a man asked, with a full gray beard, long hair, and wearing torn and dirty clothes.

  “My car ran out of gas, and I don’t have any service.”

  The man smiled, showing a mouth full of missing teeth. “Hop in. I’ll give you a ride.”

  “My great-grandma is waiting in the car.”

  “She can come with.” He spat on the ground outside his window, just barely missing my shoe. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

  “No, sir. Just came to visit my great-grandma’s hometown.”

  “I’m picking up a southern accent.”

  “We’re from Vir
ginia.”

  “You’re a long ways from home,” he said with a creepy smile.

  The guy seemed nice enough, but he was a stranger in a foreign part of the country I’m not familiar with. I reminded myself not to mind his scraggly look. People in this part of the country are much friendlier.

  He coughed, sounding like he would cough up a lung, the poor man. He watched me closely, coughing uncontrollably through his words. “It’s okay. You don’t need to be afraid of me. I couldn’t hurt a fly.”

  I wasn’t sure how much longer before another car would drive by, so I decided to trust the man.

  ***

  The man was very friendly. He returned Mary and me to our stranded car, honked his horn, waved and drove away. I must remind myself to stop judging people by their appearance.

  “Can you unlock the doors, Isabella?” Mary asked, pulling the door handle.

  I reached into my pockets, but they were empty. I rummaged through my purse, but the keys weren’t there either.

  “You sure you didn’t grab the keys when you were waiting in the car?” I asked as I peered through the window. They weren’t laying on the seat or had fallen on the floor.

  Mary looked through the passenger window. “I don’t have the keys.” She straightened up with panic in her eyes.

  “What is it?”

  “The keys are in the ignition.”

  I sprinted to the other side of the car and peered through the window. “You’ve got to be kidding me! I can’t believe this is happening! First, I lose you at the airport, and we miss our flight. Then the flight we were supposed to be on crashes with no survivors. We get a flat tire, run out of gas and now lock the keys in the car with no phone service and are out in the middle of nowhere. It’s like something doesn’t want us here. Everything we do goes wrong.”

  Back to the Daily Grind

  Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep.

  I rolled over and hit the snooze button. I swear I got maybe three hours of sleep last night. I definitely could use another five. My eyes were heavy and sore, and my head pounded in my skull, and my throat felt scratchy, like sandpaper. I smacked my dry, cracked lips and grabbed the water bottle from my nightstand. I drained the entire bottle within seconds. It felt like a hangover from Hell, but I haven’t had a drink in over six months.

  Everything had been skewed lately. The trip to South Dakota, my sleep, I hardly eat anything, my body went through some intense changes for no apparent reason. My week off from work was supposed to be relaxing, however it had been anything but.

  I couldn’t complain too much. Once we reached Astoria, it was quiet and peaceful, much different from the city. Life in the Midwest was simple, with endless miles of farmland and cornfields—the country life I could get used to. It was a breath of fresh air. It would be a culture shock, but one I would embrace with open arms.

  Now I was back to the daily grind and the hectic chaos that permeated this city, a daily reminder this town had forever changed. Everyone whispered and looked behind their backs, wondering when the next murder would take place. I think what frightened people the most was the police had no leads, and the killer was on the loose. But, to have a somewhat sane existence, I must push the negativity toward the back of my busy mind and try to live a positive life through this.

  My dental practice soared to new heights, and we couldn’t keep up with the new patient demand. It was amazing but hectic and stressful at the same time. I should have never taken the time off from work, but I had desperately needed a break. I think it had done me some good, to clear my head. The possibilities were endless for my career— financial stability and the opportunity to meet lots of new people who could possibly become more than just a familiar face.

  Bang, Bang, Bang.

  The loud thuds from the front door startled me. I leapt from bed.

  BANG, BANG, BANG!

  “Who the hell could be banging on my door at seven o’clock in the morning?” I unlocked the door and opened it. “Dad, what’s wrong?”

  “I’ve been trying to call your phone for over an hour.”

  “My phone is still on Silent. I just woke up.”

  “It’s Mary!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “The police found her wandering the streets at four this morning.”

  “What?”

  “She was lost. Didn’t know where she was. Doesn’t even remember her own name.”

  “Oh, no! Great-grandma had been calling me Natalie, but her memory just went like that?”

  “I guess. It just doesn’t make any sense. Did anything happen on your trip that might’ve been overly upsetting?”

  “Not that I can think of. Overall, we had a good trip. It didn’t start out fantastic by any means. Everything that could go wrong, went wrong. But, by the time we made it to Astoria, the rest of the world just seemed to disappear. All our worries and complications just vanished and was replaced with peace and tranquility. It was actually quite relaxing, much different than city life. Dad, do you think Great-grandma hates the city and would rather live in South Dakota? Could the stress cause her to lose her mind?”

  “I’m not sure, sweetie, but it’s certainly a possibility. All I know is that she’s too old to be on her own. She needs us now more than ever, and we need to be there for her every step of the way.”

  “Of course, Dad.”

  “I think we should discuss this tonight over dinner with Rachel. Why don’t you meet us at the house at seven?”

  “Sure thing. I’ll be there.”

  “See you tonight then.” Dad gave a half smile, turned and walked away.

  I exhaled a big sigh then proceeded to my mailbox by the edge of the busy road. Since I had been away for a week, I was sure it’d be full of unwanted mail that will most likely get thrown in the trash. I used my hand as a shield from the bright sunrays that blinded me. The grass between my toes—once tickling my delicate bare feet—now felt weathered, like worn leather cracking at the seams.

  I thumbed through the pile of letters, but only one caught my eye. I ripped it opened, unfolded it and scanned it as my gaze darted from left to right. Besides a couple bills, the others I threw in the trash. The letter I had opened had some personal information, so I shredded it. I’m definitely paranoid. But who isn’t nowadays?

  ***

  “Dr. Williams, it’s so nice to see you again. How was your trip to the Midwest?” Monica beamed as I approached the receptionist desk to my office. Monica was short and petite with dark hair pulled into a ponytail, revealing her high forehead and mole in the corner of her eye.

  “Monica, you don’t have to address me so formally. You can call me by my first name. It was very nice actually.” I smiled. “How did things go while I was gone?”

  “We were swamped! The phones have been ringing off the hook with new patients every day. We just can’t seem to keep up. We have six people waiting, and Cindy called out sick today.”

  “It’s okay, Monica. I’ll handle it. Thanks for all your help.”

  “Isabella …”

  I turned around.

  Monica offered a coffee cup. “I made your coffee just the way you like it.”

  “Thank you, Monica. Another cup will do me good. I need the extra caffeine this morning.”

  ***

  My mind wandered all day, thinking about Carrie. I hadn’t talked to her in so long. I wondered how she was doing. Last I heard, she had moved to California with Chad and their daughter, Chloe. Chloe must be seven now, so that would put her in … second grade, I think. I really missed Carrie; she was my best friend. After she graduated and moved away, we just drifted apart. I should visit her in California sometime. What was I thinking? I had just returned from a trip, and we were busier than hell at the office. I couldn’t leave anytime soon.

  I missed having someone to confide in. I told Carrie things I’d never spoken of before. We had a crazy friendship. She was popular and loved to party, and I was quiet and love to read. We were comp
lete opposites, but it worked. I trusted her, and she trusted me. She got married, had a kid and everything changed. Life changes us, I supposed.

  I didn’t lock up for the day until after six o’clock. We accepted twenty-four new patients today, and I was beat. I could crawl into bed and sleep for twelve hours straight, but I supposed I better stop by the bakery and buy some brownies for dessert at Dad’s tonight. The bakery made the best brownies around. My favorite were the German chocolate ones. The frosting was rich and gooey with coconut and chopped pecans. Pure deliciousness, but they were dangerous, packed with tons of calories and fat. Most definitely a temptation hard to resist.

  As I traversed Main Street, I noticed business owners had decorated all their store windows for Halloween, my favorite holiday. I loved all the creepy decorations—ghosts, scarecrows, bats, spiders, webs, blood, and anything scary. We had even decorated my office. We had gone all out, hanging stuff from the ceiling and walls and using motion-detected creatures with red eyes and faintly playing creepy music in the background. I loved all the pranks people pull on one another this time of year, trying to scare the bejeezus out of everyone. But this year was much different than the rest. No one was in the mood to scare each other, with the murders and all, which I could understand, but it was depressing. Everyone was so serious all the time. I wished people would just lighten up a little bit and try to have fun.

  An old house built circa 1820 stood on top of a hill, overlooking the entire town. The property owner had turned it into a haunted house. It was too rundown for habitation, but it had been in his family for almost two centuries. Rumor had it the place was really haunted. They had some TV crew investigate the property years ago to capture any activity in that house, but the show never aired. Rumors had it that it had been too damn scary for the public’s eyes, and one of the crew members had ended up in a mental institution after the investigation. They said the man had gone crazy.

  It was the best haunted house I had ever been to. It knocked all the others clear out of the water by far. But, now that I think of it, maybe it was because the house was actually haunted and not a hoax that just seemed fake and overexaggerated, like most.