A Message from Beyond

Ian ran with one of Danny’s shirts in his hand, hoping to find him before he caught whoever did this.

Danny had always been the calm one and Ian the reactionary one. This recent switch in Danny, twice in one day, could only mean one thing. He was beginning to feel things he never thought he would again.

As wonderful as that was, it scared Ian. What happened with Jessica changed Danny and this new side—this edgier, unhinged side—was something Ian didn’t know how to handle.

If he couldn’t catch him, if someone died, Danny would not only lose the life he was trying to rebuild, but Jessica would win twice by taking both his dignity and future.

“You know?” Ian looked to the sky as he panted, wishing he’d kept up with track and field practices. “I know there’s a whole your will not being my will thing, but maybe, just this once, our wills could be the same?” He puffed clouded breaths. “We both know him losing it would be a bad thing, so maybe giving him a dash of patience wouldn’t be a bad idea?”

He sprinted around the bend to the silhouette of the cottage and squinted, trying to see movement.

A scuffle to his right dropped him down as a wooden bat swung over his head. “Danny, it’s me.”

“Shit. Ian? Announce yourself next time.”

“Is that before or after you knock my head off?” He crab-walked toward Danny, throwing the shirt at him and murmured to the sky, “Perhaps a tad more patience than that.”

Danny tugged on the hem of Ian’s sweater and pulled him behind the large rock he’d been hiding behind. “What are you doing here?”

“What’s it look like I’m doing? Keeping you out of jail.”

“You shouldn’t have left her. What if whoever did this figures out she’s there and tries again?”

“You know what? You’re upset. So, I’m going to pretend you didn’t just accuse me of leaving her alone.” Danny opened his mouth to speak, but Ian stopped him. “Emelie is with her, and Doc and Auntie are on their way to do a more thorough examination.”

He let out a long sigh.

“Anything yet?”

“Nothing.” He pointed toward the house with the bat. “The door keeps swinging open and closed, but other than that, I haven’t heard or seen anyone sneaking around.” He gave another tug on Ian’s shirt and nodded in the direction he was going. Ian followed until they reached the next boulder.

Danny rubbed his forehead. “How was she when you left?”

“Quieter. A bit embarrassed by the state she’d arrived in. Kept apologizing. Wanted me to be sure I told you that she was sorry.”

“What the hell does she have to be sorry to me for?”

Ian took a deep breath and braced for his reaction. “She said to tell you she was sorry she upset you again.”

“Fuck.” He jammed fingers into his hair. “I’m not upset at her, for shit’s sake. I didn’t mean to yell, and I sure as hell wasn’t yelling at her.”

“I know that and told her.”

“But you saw the look on her face, right? I scared her.” He gripped and yanked on his ponytail. “She’ll never speak to me again after this.”

“She’s not Jessica.” The words flew out of Ian’s mouth before he could stop them, and Danny’s narrowing eyes told him he’d stepped over the line. “Look.” Ian held up both hands. “What I meant to say is I think there’s a lot more going on here and a lot about Claire we don’t understand. One minute she’s timid and shy and the next she’s throwing down Polo Boy.

“She’s struggling with something and it’s not just grief. Everything she said tonight, whether it made sense or not, had something to do with her husband. And alive or dead, whatever happened in this place was very real to her.” Ian rubbed his tingling thighs, numb from crouching too long. “It’s clear that—” He stopped and side-glanced Danny.

“Just say it, Ian.”

He pushed out a breath. “It’s clear she cares what you think about her because in the short time I’ve known her, upsetting you has always upset her. That’s why I don’t think you’re going to get the silent treatment.”

Running steps sped down the lane, and Danny jumped up again. Ian clamped over his arm. “It could be Finlay. I told him we might need an extra hand.”

“That’s more than one person.”

“I may or may not have told him to bring Dean and Mattie.”

Danny dropped down. “And you’re worried about me going to jail? With them, someone is guaranteed to go.”

“Are you kidding? They’re Solsken’s finest troublemakers, and troublemakers are what you want when someone is causing trouble.”

“Ian?” Fin whispered.

Ian waved his hand and they crouch-ran toward them.

“Is it true?” Fin asked when he reached them. “Is she really living here?”

“We haven’t gotten inside to check for sure,” Ian said.

“Damn. Living here?” Mattie shook his head of thick, black curls. His bruised eye was visible from his fight with Polo Boys. “With that video of her tearing that dude’s balls off and serving them back on a silver platter—just damn. I want to meet her.”

Danny gave Ian a pointed glare and Ian smirked.

“What’s the plan?” Fin asked.

“We need to circle around the place and look for any signs of tampering,” Danny said. “Whoever scared her knows the area, so check for footprints too. Look for any sign that they may still be around. If no one finds anything, we meet up inside the house and see what’s there.”

Dean, built like an offensive lineman with a buzz-cut, had been silent up until now and cleared his throat. “I hate to state the obvious, but what if it really is a ghost?”

Danny rolled his eyes and cursed, taking off around the right side of the cottage, with Ian following. The other three went left.

Halfway around, Danny stopped with a frustrated sigh. “I don’t get it. Why is she living here? It’s not like she’s poor and has no other choice.”

“Other than the state of the house, it’s the prettiest spot on the island.”

“She does love atmosphere.”

Ian hid a smile.

Moving forward, Danny circled around to where the other group should be.

“Psst.” Fin came up to them. “There’re some broken branches along the west side opening up to a rough-cut path. Dean and Mattie are checking it out.”

Danny nodded, and they crept farther along the other side of the house. He tugged on Ian and pointed out an open window. Ian nodded. Lifting his bat, Danny tapped the outside, hoping to spook someone. They heard nothing but the creak-creak of the front door swinging on its hinges.

Danny slowly stood, eyes peeking through the window. “Where are you, asshole?” he whispered.

Ian handed him his phone with the flashlight on, silently telling him that he and Fin would go to the front to catch them if someone ran out.

With a nod to Fin they both braced on either side of the open door. Another banging came from the back of the house as Danny yelled nonsense. Nothing came out. Slowly, they both peered around the doorframe before stepping inside.

Ian sighed. “Danny? House looks empty.”

There was a heavy thump on the front porch followed by a loud crack and a, “Motherfucker.”

Ian leaned out of the doorway, grinning. “Not your night, is it?”

Danny glared up at him with his left leg swallowed inside a hole. Ian grinned wider and reached out, pulling him up. “Two f-bombs in less than an hour too. Impressive.”

Danny ignored him, eyeing the porch planks, daring them to give out on him again.

Ian reached for the light switch and flipped it. Nothing came on. “Has she been without power too?”

“I’ll check the breaker.” Fin hopped down the front step and disappeared around the right side of the house.

Danny eyed their surroundings. “The Island of Sunshine. Jewel of the Atlantic. And all we have to offer her is shit to live in?”

“Look at it this way,” Ian said. “Now you know why she didn’t want you to see where she lived. I imagine she’s embarrassed by it.”

“We’re the ones who should be embarrassed.”

“You said she came from old money, right? What if this has nothing to do with us? What if this was some sort of rebellion against her family?”

The lights blinked on—every single light—and Danny and Ian took in the place, checking for any signs of disturbance. When they didn’t find anything, Danny zeroed in on the rotting interior. “The ceiling is sagging here, and look at this.” He touched part of a wall and the plaster crumbled. “I can’t believe she lives here.”

“Saints.” Ian pointed. “Did an animal rip apart the couch?”

“And instead of buying a new one, she fixed it? I don’t understand.”

“Are you sure she’s got money?”

Danny arched a brow. “Like ridiculous amounts.”

“What if her family cut her off financially?”

“Her husband was well off too.”

“She could’ve had some complications with his will.”

Danny stared at him for a moment and blinked twice. “She’s made more money off her books than you and I have combined.”

Ian blew out air. “Well, beats the hell out of me then.”

Danny stopped at the stove and snickered.

“What?”

He pointed to a drawing of an oven in the shape of a dragon spitting fire at a woman who held up a pot. The woman had a dialogue bubble. Danny read, “All I wanted was to make macaroni and cheese. Is that too much to ask?”

Danny ducked down and looked under the burners. “This is so old it doesn’t have a pilot light. Probably had the gas too high when she tried to light it.” He held up the picture once more and smiled before placing it back where he found it.

They made their way down the hall to the bedroom. Danny pushed the door open with the bat and it slid through his hand, hitting his foot. “Dear God.” Pillows lay scattered on the floor near an upturned nightstand with a shattered lamp. The bed blankets lay twisted, half hanging off the bed near a pile of disheveled journals.

He pointed to the window. “There’s no curtain. Didn’t she say he was behind the curtain? Did you see any curtains in the house?”

Ian shook his head, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“Ian? Danny?” Fin’s voice shook. “You guys better come see this.”

They rushed to the bathroom.

“What kind of psycho shit is this?” Fin pointed to the side of the bathroom, and Danny and Ian followed his finger. “Is that written in blood?”

Danny jumped back and Ian crossed himself. A threadbare shower curtain stretched across a tub full of water and behind it, a tiled wall was covered in dripping red words. Danny used his bat to pull back the curtain and they read:

Tsk-tsk you should have looked

Behind the curtain on a hook

The water’s turned cold

My actions now bold

To get you to see

You’ll never be rid of me

Ian gripped Danny’s arm and pointed at the drain plug where a picture of Claire and her husband on their wedding day floated, tied to a rock at the bottom.

The words, Until your death do us part,were scrawled across her face in permanent marker.