Resurrecting Harry (18 page)

“The show,” he repeated in a whisper. Her only desire: for it to go off without a hitch. His only goal: to stop it cold. “Is there anything I can do to help?” The words slipped from his mouth. Stupid words! Helping was not stopping, it was the opposite, but he couldn’t contain himself.

What kind of numbskull would offer to participate in his own demise?

“Drink your tea so you can get well. Once you’re back to normal we can both move on with our lives.”

So, that was it. She wanted him up and out so she could give all her attention to the séance. The thought of leaving here — getting well enough to walk away — tormented him, but it was worse than that. The séance would tear him from this life he’d relearned to cherish.

Somehow in the last week, his life had developed meaning. He hadn’t expected that. Maybe it was selfish, but he didn’t want to die again, to give up his body and never feel a hot, summer breeze or cool, autumn rain. But it was more than that. The idea of never looking in her eyes again, never seeing her smile, or feeling her arms around him, as they had the night he’d kissed her, made his whole body ache.

But it appeared that Harry spent their entire married life hurting her. Dying was just one of a long list of things he’d done to cut at her very soul. If she wanted him up and out, who was he not to oblige her? Maybe she’d at least smile at him as he walked away.

He gripped the cup and lifted it to his lips, gulping the tea. From the moment Harry had laid eyes on Bess, her happiness had been first and foremost. No doubt, their life had been hard, but as he looked across the table at her now it wasn’t only grief that etched her features. Anger and bitterness loomed just below the surface. And he’d already wasted one third of his time trying to erase it, only to fail. Was that all their life had been to her? Pain? He needed to know that wasn’t true. “Tell me something happy, Bess.”

She looked up at him as if he’d spoke in a foreign language she couldn’t comprehend. “Happy?”

“We’re both being petulant. I thought maybe if we shared happy memories it would help pull us out of the funk.”
Just tell me one thing you loved about your life with Harry.

She kept her eyes down as if she were studying the meat and vegetables in her bowl. In that moment of complete silence, Erich watched a wide variety of emotions pass over her face. A moment later, she said, “There were so many happy moments. Time we spent on trains, segregated from the rest of the world. Or holidays, the house bustled with family. I think my favorite memory happened just after we bought this house, though. We’d finished dinner and decided to take a walk and enjoy the night air. We became so engrossed in our conversation that we’d walked a dozen or more blocks without even noticing how far we’d gone. Then, it began to rain, an unexpected summer downpour.”

The memory she sparked was so real to him he could feel her body tight to his as Harry pulled her close. Once again, it was as if the soaking wet clothes hung from his frame, and he could smell her perfume and taste her sweet lips as they’d stopped running and came together in laughter.

The memory brought forth a chuckle, and her warm eyes met his. “We ran together, holding hands, for three blocks or so, but realizing our clothes were soaked and there was no getting around that, we went back to a nice stroll. It was a warm mid-summer rain, and it just washed away all the craziness of our normal routine. For those brief moments, I felt like he wasn’t focused on work. For that one evening in the rain, it was just Harry and me.”

Her recount of that day was all he needed to hear to remember why he’d chosen this over an afterlife. Saving Bess from self-destruction and relighting the spark of hope in her was the only choice he could make. “That’s a beautiful story, Bess. Wonderful.”

“Now it’s your turn.”

“Pardon me?”

“To share. You said we should share stories. You’ve told me so little about your past.”

What could he share? His only memories were Harry’s, and she’d surely recognize them as such. Maybe if he kept it benign they wouldn’t offend the terms of his bargain or upset Jaden. “I think my happiest moment was on a train, with the love of my life. We couldn’t afford a compartment and were traveling across country. For several days we sat close, arm in arm, but one evening in particular her head lay on my shoulder while she slept. She trusted me to keep her safe and provided for even though we rarely knew where the next meal was coming from.”

“When you love someone, it’s easy to trust. Not being alone in the world is enough to make you feel invincible, I think.”

He could see tears making her eyes glossy and wondered if she’d found her version of that very memory in the recesses of her mind. “I’d give anything to have those days back.”

She averted her eyes. Her hand shook as she lifted her spoon to her mouth. Did his story hit too close to home? As well, it should. “How? How did she die?” Her voice rattled the same as the spoon.

He’d told her before that death separated him from his love, and it wasn’t a lie. Of course, Bess assumed that he’d had a spouse or lover pass away, not that he himself had experienced death and a rebirth of sorts. But how to answer her direct question? He had no choice but to lie. Jaden wouldn’t allow the truth to pass through his lips. Unless, of course, he veiled it. “An illness. The doctors were useless. That’s probably why I don’t have much use for them.”

“That’s the way it happens sometimes. No matter what you do to help or how hard you pray, the fates have another idea all their own, and we are helpless to stop it.”

“Do you really believe that?”

She shook her head. “But sometimes telling myself that eases the pain. You loved her?”

“With all my heart. We had so many dreams for a home, family and life of our own. You mentioned fate, well, I guess it had a different plan than my lady and I did.” He’d tried hard to keep emotion out of his voice, but couldn’t stop it from cracking. He only had to look at Bess to know he’d opened up yet another wound for her.

“And now?”

“There’s a piece of this worn and tired soul that will always be hers.”

“Worn and tired?” she quipped. “You’re still quite the young man.”

“For all that I’ve seen, it’s as if I’ve lived twice as long as you’d think.” He chose his words with care, staying as true to facts as he could without twirling her into the altered reality or angering his keeper.

Bess picked up the linen napkin from her lap and wiped her mouth, though it was obvious to Erich she was trying to stifle the tears. “Look at the two of us, supposed to be cheering each other up with happy stories, and all we can do is cry in our stew.”

A chuckle boiled up from deep inside. “I guess we are a pathetic pair. But I hope my story shows you I know a little more of your pain than you realized.”

“It has.”

Erich pushed the bowl aside. “The meal was very good. Give me another moment, and I will clear the dishes away.”

“You’ll do no such thing. You’ll sit there and finish your tea.” She stood and began gathering the bowls and silverware in her arms.

With an obedient nod, Erich brought the cup to his lips, swallowing the remainder, hoping it would drown the grief. Hoping the new mutual connection would be a bridge to better things. The pungent flavor balled up and closed his throat, bringing on a coughing fit. A moment later, it passed and he shifted his weight. “Would you like to play cards in a bit?”

“That would be lovely,” she said.

He watched Bess busy herself with the dishes. Determined to give her a hand, he started to stand, but the room spun away from him. He gripped the edge of the table and called out her name as his vision faded white.

“What is it?”

He heard her long, flowing skirt bustle around her legs. She was moving toward him, but he only saw a blur behind white clouds.

Her voice screeched. “Oh my goodness, Erich, what is it?”

“I feel…” His knees buckled, and Bess’s arm came around him.

“Come on, let’s lie you down.”

His heart thumped against his chest, and he heard ringing in his ears. Life, once again, slipped from him. Had he given away too much? Angered Jaden for the last time?

Erich blindly reached out. His fingers finding the cotton of Bess’s blouse, he gripped it tight and pulled her close. He wouldn’t allow her to believe that Harry had abandoned her. When he could feel the warmth of her caress to his cheek and smell her rose scented perfume, he dug deep and whispered. “Forgive, Bess, and believe.”

“Believe what, Erich? What are you trying to say?” She tried to pull from him, but he held her. He tried to meet her eyes, but everything was fuzzy and white. He could hear the tremble in her voice, knew the words he’d said had thrown her off balance, but he’d only just begun.

“Harry… Roseabell…answer…tell…pray…answer.” His hand slipped from her dress, and his head rolled to the side. The ringing in his ears had subsided and overwhelming weakness had quieted his racing heart.

“Is there more, Erich? Is Harry saying more?”

With slow steady movements he slid his hand up her stomach and rested it between her breasts. “Look…tell…answer…answer.” The last word passed through his lips, and consciousness drifted away.

The code.

Erich had just recited the message Harry had promised to send from beyond the grave
.
“Are you still here, Harry?” She called to the empty room. “Say something else. Anything else!”

Bess braced her hands on either side of Erich’s face and put her cheek down near his mouth. He was still breathing. “Don’t you do this, Erich! Don’t die on me.”

Feeling the warmth against her flesh, however shallow, she laid a hand to his forehead. It was cool. He looked peaceful.

Emotions knotted in her chest. Harry had used Erich to speak to her alone, just like she’d pleaded and prayed. Was he still with her now? Death had never taken away the feeling that he still walked by her side. She’d been even more aware of him — or lack of his presence — since bumping into Erich on the street. There was a connection between the two men that went beyond the thirst for adventure and the hunger for the limelight.

Erich.
She had to get him help. On her feet, she grabbed the phone and dialed Martin’s number. She’d have called Joseph, but had no idea how to get a hold of him since he’d left the Cooper estate. Maybe Martin did have an agenda when it came to Harry’s memory, but Erich needed medical treatment. When Martin’s voice hit her ears, she said, “Please, I need your help.”

The spinning slowed, but white haze still clouded Erich’s vision. He pushed and clawed like a drowning man fighting his way to the surface, until he saw Jaden. He had drawn Erich into yet another dream state. Or had he lost the bet and was now sentenced to the cold, wet ground for an eternity?

Jaden tightened the long, leather coat and pushed his soaked hair over his shoulder. Only then did Erich realize the rain and where they stood. It was the very street corner from Bess’s memory — where they’d given up on outrunning the storm and melted into each other’s embrace. Warm water and the clean, fresh scent of summer assailed Erich’s senses. He tilted his head up and let the drops splatter his face, clearing the fog. “What did I do wrong this time?”

“Quite the contrary. You’ve made your first and only important breakthrough.”

Erich rubbed the back of his neck then leveled his eyes back to his mentor. “Then why are we here?”

“For Bess.”

“And the rain? Is that for her too?”

Jaden stood firm, his legs at shoulder’s width and his hands clasped at his waist. “Every last bit of this has been for her alone. Never for you. Tonight, for the first time, you understood that.”

Erich pursed his lips. Despite Jaden’s claim, he didn’t understand. “Then why pull me away?”

“There are forces working against you. You are even more of a nuisance to them now than before. You threaten their plans. Your delivery of the coded message will stand in the way.”

Of course. Giving Bess her message eliminated the need for a séance. He’d accomplished the goal. But with no show, there would be no spotlight for Gail. And when she was upset, Martin became a son-of-a-bitch. “Bess wanted Harry’s words. It never mattered where they came from.”

“Yes, but it’s not just the words. It’s the reason you said them. For the first time since all of this began your actions were selfless. You whispered them for Bess alone, for her peace of mind and to ease her heart.” A proud smile — something Erich hadn’t seen until this moment — crossed Jaden’s lips, and his eyes twinkled. “Love, betrayal, comfort and revenge. So much is swirling around you and Bess. You’ve become unwilling participants in a scheme that has grown larger than it had ever intended. In the name of retribution, you were meant to stop breathing tonight, but nothing is going to mess with
my
plan.”

Jaden reached for his forehead, but Erich stopped him. “Is it Martin? Did that bastard try to kill me?”

“The players are many.” With those final words the large man pushed his hand past Erich’s, and as the fingers touched his forehead, he fell into his body once more, cold and clammy against the kitchen floor. He fought for consciousness, pulling himself back from a murky cloud.

Bess’s arms came around him as he coughed and sputtered. “Oh Erich. Dear God, thank you. Thank you for letting him be all right.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far.” Erich chocked and coughed the words, licking his lips and trying to bring himself to a sitting position.

Bess’s arm came down against his chest, holding him firm in her lap. “Wait for Martin.”

“You called him? Why? How long was I out?”

“Five minutes or so. How do you feel?”

“Weak. It’s that damn tea. I was fine ‘til I drank it.”

Her arms went tense around him, her voice sharp and biting. “It’s a root tea. How could it possibly hurt you?”

“I don’t know.” He rolled his head away from her, his strength being restored like grains of sand being sifted through a strainer — slow and scattered. Maybe the tea in and of itself was harmless, but that didn’t let the person who brought it off the hook. Maybe that voice in his gut that held Joseph suspect from the beginning was accurate.

Touching his cheek, she brought his gaze back to her. “Did Harry tell you anything else?”

Her concern for him — Erich — so fleeting. Of course, it was Harry and an homage to their past that mattered most to her. The realization sucked the air from his lungs as if she’d punched him in the stomach. But why did the distinction matter so much? He and Harry were one and the same. Weren’t they?

No. Somewhere along the way — maybe the moment he’d spilled the code — they had fractured, and he’d become disconnected from Harry’s past.

Erich needed to make this a catalyst to bring them together, but for the moment he’d hold his cards close to his chest. “What? Did I say Harry told me something?”

“The message that is sealed in an envelope and locked in my safe; you spoke the words before you passed out. Do you remember?”

He scraped his hand across his jaw, and he felt his eyes darting side to side as he decided on the right words. “I remember calling for you and the urge to tell you something...”

Tears spilled down her cheeks, but the smile on her lips gave away her joy, a level of happiness even Harry hadn’t seen in many years. The weight of Jaden’s labels — cold and selfish — plummeted down on him. How did it happen that Harry had let this light slip from her eyes and never once noticed? “Help me up.”

“No. Martin will be here soon. He needs to check you out.”

If Martin and Joseph had succeeded in their plan, would she mourn him or only miss the link to Harry? “I don’t want that scoundrel laying a finger on me, and if you were smart you wouldn’t have him near you either.” He pushed himself up despite her effort to make him stay on the floor. “I’m all right, Bess. I swear.”

He attempted to square his feet, but the world gyrated away from him again. He reached for the edge of the table as Bess slid the chair underneath him. “At least sit! You’re not fine.”

Erich followed her orders and looked at the offending mug sitting in front of him. He’d questioned that pseudo-doctor from the moment he’d stepped foot in this house. Why had he been so blind and followed? The answer was simple: because she asked him to. “Bess, there’s something you should know.”

“About Harry?” she asked. The bright, hopeful glean in her eyes broke his heart as she slid up another chair and sat so close to him their knees touched. Her hands, aged by time and sorrow felt so frail as he gripped them in his. Her eyes pleaded with him, begged for more words from Harry’s lips.

Erich had longed for her to look at him with a pure adoration since that moment they bumped on the street. Now that she did, jealousy stabbed at him. She wasn’t looking at the Erich she’d come to know, she was still clinging to a memory. Not that long ago, he’d have accepted this as progress, but the man he’d become wanted Bess for himself. “I don’t think Harry spoke through me, Bess.”

A tremble visibly coursed her body, and she threw her arms up in the air. “How can you still not believe? You delivered his message! You must be one of those people Joseph spoke of earlier?”

He shifted his weight in the chair and shook his head. Always a new twist and something different to absorb. “What are you talking about? What kind of people?”

“Someone with second sight.”

“A fraud medium?” No use for fancy language, he’d call a spade what it was, but he didn’t mean to push her buttons and regretted that the joyful glow was already fading.

Her fingers gripped her skirt, and her lips narrowed. “No, not some phony. Someone who can truly speak with the spiritual world. I’m sure Harry took over your body. That’s why you passed out. I wish I knew how to get a hold of Joseph.”

She’d made up her mind and that should make his next step easy, but he knew that wouldn’t be the case. Nothing so far had come without difficulty. “I wasn’t possessed, Bess. It was that damn tea.”

“And the tea magically gave you Harry’s code for the word believe?”

“The words I spoke stood for the letters in the name Roseabelle. It’s the name that is the code word for believe.” Harry’s words spilled past his lips before Erich could contain them. Damn Harry’s ego! He couldn’t leave well enough be. Was Jaden right? Did the need to be right matter more to Harry than Bess’s heart?

Her whole face lit up as the smile he’d chased away returned. “You wouldn’t know that unless Harry told you.”

Damn-it-all, he wanted something that belonged to them and didn’t involve the past. “You believe in spirits and afterlives but not in poisoned tea?”

She slammed her hand against the table. “Don’t tease!”

Pointing out her hypocrisy and fickleness was only part of the reason he’d been so harsh. He knew evil forces were afoot, and he needed her to stop chasing dreams and focus on the here and now. He leveled his gaze. “This isn’t a joke. What if Martin was so angry about the things I said to him the other day that he sent Joseph over here to make good on those death threats.”

Bess rolled her eyes and exhaled. “Those two had a falling out. Joseph dislikes Martin as much as you do.”

“Maybe Martin isn’t giving him a choice.” Okay, so he was sorting it out for himself as he proposed different scenarios to Bess. Jaden said many people were involved, and those two plus Gail were his top suspects. Erich just needed to figure out the connection.

“Now that’s a reach. You’re accusing Martin of blackmailing Joseph? Why can’t you accept that Harry spoke through you?”

Erich flicked the inside of his mouth with his tongue. It’d be easier to give her the hope, but she’d be devastated later if the truth came out. “It’s not possible, Bess.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she giggled — like she hadn’t in more years than he cared to remember. “How can you say that? You’ve just done it. Harry came to me tonight, and he used your body as a vessel. You won’t convince me any differently.”

Bess crossed to the back door and rifled through the box she’d set there earlier. “I wish he could have delivered something personal to me before you lost consciousness, but this was only the first time. Now that he’s succeeded, he will surely try again. You’ll get stronger, and I’ll be able to talk to him next time.”

Next time?
Instead of dousing the need, he’d only fueled the flame. This had to stop. “The séance. He regrets that decision and wants you to call it off.”

Her beautiful smile faded, and her eyes scanned him. “Harry did
not
say that.”

“He did. Sure as I’m sitting here. He doesn’t want you to hold the public fiasco that the séance will become. That’s why he came to you tonight. To show you there wasn’t a need.”

She shifted her weight between her feet. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“You have your message from Harry. He’s proven communication with the dead is possible. There’s no reason to hold that carnival side show.” His stomach twisted into a knot. Jaden made it impossible for Erich to tell Bess the entire truth, but that didn’t mean lying was right. Worse, her life depended on him getting her to trust the fabrication.

Again her expressions changed so fast, it made him dizzy. Her eyes narrowed, and her jaw tightened. “How did you do it? How did you learn the code? Such certainty now. A few minutes ago you didn’t remember.” Her tone was biting. Only he could screw this up. In the short span of few minutes he’d gone from her prized possession — a medium with a direct line to her precious Harry — to once again being a drifter trying to con her. If she was going to hold anyone in that regard it should be Martin, but that wasn’t Erich’s luck. She
knew
the doctor was a rogue and still treated him as a welcome guest and friend.

Why couldn’t she just believe in him the way she put her faith in the ruffians around her. “He spoke to me.”

“You’ve studied him. You’ve picked locks in this house and shown your prowess with sleight of hand. You want to step into his life and use me to gain his notoriety for yourself. That’s it, isn’t it? You want to walk in Harry’s footsteps. You’re one of the many he feared, and the sole reason he developed the code in the first place.”

Erich’s shoulders fell as the weight of her distrust landed on them. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”