Mystery and Crime Fiction posted February 3, 2025 Chapters:  ...27 28 -29- 30 


Excellent
Not yet exceptional. When the exceptional rating is reached this is highlighted
Escapes, Rescues and the power of magic
A chapter in the book Veil of Secrets

Veil of Secrets - Chap 29

by Begin Again


Maria's breath came in sharp, jagged gasps, rattling in her throat before bursting from her chest. She ran, fell, crawled, and ran again across the field until her legs gave out, and now she crouched in the tall, wet grasses, her body trembling.

Her gaze darted across the land behind her. Were they following? Was she alone, or were they out there somewhere? Her mind spun, tangled in the nightmare of how she had ended up here.

Four days ago, she had been a cocktail waitress in a sleazy dive, working for tips and survival. She lived in a third-floor walk-up — a two-room attic where the only toilet was on the second floor, and freeloading mice scurried like uninvited boarders.

Her boss, a greasy lowlife, had tossed her a problem she couldn't afford to refuse.

"Manuel can't take the deposit tonight. You do it."

Maria's gut had screamed, "No way," but saying it out loud would have cost her the job.

So, at 3 A.M., she had yanked a pair of jeans over her skimpy uniform, thrown on an oversized sweatshirt, and hurried the two blocks to the bank's night deposit.
She'd dropped the bag into the slot when hands clamped over her mouth — rough and unrelenting. Instantly, with the money gone, she knew it wasn't a robbery. They wanted her.

Someone pressed a cloth soaked in something sickly sweet against her face. The world had tilted. Then — nothing.

The next thing she remembered was waking up inside a swaying railroad car, crammed between other women, cows, and four men with guns.

Guards transferred them from the train into cattle trucks (minus the cows), drove them through the night, and then moved them again into the trucks that brought them to this God-forsaken death trap.

Now — soaked, terrified, and shivering, she used the rest stop to catch her breath and scan the land — nothing but tall grasses and wide-open spaces. She didn't see any smoke that might indicate a house, nor did she see or hear any animals — a dog barking, cows mooing, anything that showed civilization and help.

The low-hanging clouds were gray and threatened to open up, dropping more buckets of unwanted rain. She needed to find help, but she didn't know where.

Another level of fear lit up her eyes as her head snapped around. Had she heard something, or was it her imagination?

An icy chill ran down her spine. Someone was coming.

She'd heard something — not the sounds of footsteps or angry voices. It was a man's voice singing. She couldn't detect the words but feared whoever it might be. And he was moving closer.

His voice became louder, and the words were clearer. She crouched low to the ground, and her mind told her it couldn't be — but it was.

He sang as if playing a child's game. "Come out! Come out! Wherever you may be. It doesn't pay to hide from me."

Loud laughter followed the ditty, rumbling through the air, slow and taunting. His voice curled around her, creeping like fingers along her spine.

"Come out, come out, little rabbit," he mocked. "I can smell your fear."

Maria squeezed her eyes shut, biting her lip to keep from sobbing. The grass rustled, parting, yet she couldn't see anyone. Then he appeared — just like in the tunnel.
 
Poof!

Cornelius Webb, a tall and imposing figure, towered above her trembling body. Maria, no longer frightened that anyone would hear and prayed they would, screamed a blood-curdling, ear-shattering, desperate cry for help, her face contorted with fear and desperation.

Cornelius's laughter heightened the hysteria, sending vibes across the estate and the vineyard. Thankfully, as Eleanor stood on the back porch of the mansion, facing the Webb Estate, the horrific energy reached her, and she knew where the girl was.

She closed her eyes, envisioned the spot she'd seen, and with one deep breath, she stepped out of the grasses — standing between Cornelius and the young woman — in the blink of an eye.

Maria gasped, her entire body stiff with fear. Now, there wasn't just one—but two. She shook her head, trying to clear her vision—it couldn't be real.

The woman spoke, her voice angry. "Leave her alone."

Cornelius tilted his head, grinning. "Or what?" His eyes gleamed with amusement — his presence filled with arrogance. "You've never had power over me before, Eleanor. What makes you think that's changed?" The tension between them was thick, crackling in the air like electricity.

Eleanor stood her ground, her shoulders squared, her face set like stone. "Because," she said smoothly, "the girl has nothing to do with anything. You are merely toying with her. But somewhere deep inside your dark heart, you believe in family. Maybe not hers, but yours, I am sure. Family to carry on your name. Cornelius." She paused, letting her words settle in. "Travis is out there. Lost. Hurt. Maybe dying. Your concern should lie there."

For the briefest second, Cornelius's expression flickered. It was a moment so quick most would have missed it. But Eleanor didn't. She pressed forward. "Your grandson needs you, Cornelius. You waste your time playing cruel games while he suffers."

Cornelius' smirk faltered just slightly.

Eleanor narrowed her eyes. "Don't let him rot in the mess you created," she said softly. "Think! He's your flesh and blood. He might not make it."

Cornelius' face darkened. His fingers twitched slightly. But then his laughter returned. "I don't care for weaklings," he said smoothly. "Travis is of no consequence to me." His words were sharp, cutting. Final.

Eleanor gritted her teeth, but before she could speak again.

Another voice spoke. "That's a lie," Antonio said coldly.

Cornelius turned sharply, coming face to face with him.

Antonio stepped closer. Something small and dark dangled from his fingers — a velvet bag.

Cornelius' smirk returned. "Ah, Antonio." His voice dripped with mockery. "Finally found your courage?"

Antonio didn't answer. Instead, he loosened the strings of the bag.

Cornelius' amusement dimmed. His gaze dropped sharply to Antonio's hand.

Antonio's fingers dipped inside, retrieving a pinch of black powder.

Cornelius went still.

Eleanor saw it now. Not fear. Something worse. Recognition. A flicker of uncertainty. He knew what it was.

Antonio stared at the evil form looming near him. He wanted nothing better than to destroy and banish him forever, but now was not the time, nor was it his choice. Still, he stared at Cornelius and asked, "Look familiar?"

"Where did you get that?" Cornelius' voice was low now, less mocking.

Antonio smiled faintly. "Did you forget something at the cottage?"

Cornelius' eyes flashed. "You're bluffing."

Antonio didn't blink. With deliberate calm, he tilted his hand. The black powder spilled into his palm. A harsh wind kicked up around them, swirling the dust in the air.

Cornelius' expression finally shifted, and he took a step away.

It was one thing to see the bag; seeing the powder exposed and alive in the open air was another.

Eleanor felt the tension coil tighter.

Antonio's voice remained smooth and steady. "One handful is all it takes," he said. "You should know that better than anyone."

Cornelius' fingers twitched, but he didn't move forward.

Antonio took a single step toward him. "Are you willing to risk it?"

For the first time, Cornelius didn't have an answer. The smirk, the bravado — it didn't reach his eyes now. His uncertainty starkly contrasted with his usual confidence, a clear shift in the power dynamics.

A long, heavy pause stretched between them.

Then, he took a step back. And another.

Eleanor felt her breath catch in her throat. He wasn't running. But he wasn't challenging them either.

Cornelius' eyes flicked between Antonio and the powder and then back to Eleanor. His voice was dangerous when he spoke. "This isn't over." A slow, chilling smile curled his lips again. But it wasn't the same. Eleanor saw it now. Cornelius' confidence wavered, leaving a lingering uncertainty. Then, in a blink, he vanished.

Antonio's breath escaped in a slow, deliberate exhale as he closed the velvet bag, concealing its contents from view.

Maria let out a sob, collapsing into the grass, trembling uncontrollably.

Eleanor swallowed hard, forcing herself to steady her breathing. She sank to the ground, pulling Maria into her arms before turning to Antonio.

He was already looking at her. Neither of them said what they were thinking.

Had Antonio indeed found Cornelius' forgotten weapon? Or had he just bluffed his nemesis into backing down?

Eleanor exhaled slowly. For now, it didn't matter. Cornelius was gone. But for how long?

*****
Rebecca's fever raged on, an unrelenting fire that consumed her from the inside out. Her body convulsed with each shiver, her breaths shallow and erratic, a stark reminder of her condition.

Heat and cold wrapped around her, twisting through the haze of her mind. Shapes blurred, sounds faded.

Only one thing remained. A name. One that slipped across her dry, parched lips repeatedly and swirled relentlessly in her mind.

It was barely a whisper, a faint breath of sound that barely escaped her lips. "Garth."

Miles away, the cowboy stood tense and stiff, his eyes scanning the thick tree line. His Stetson shaded the rising sun.

The search teams moved through the forest, voices crackling over the radio, boots crunching against damp earth, scattered branches, and debris.

Tango muttered something under his breath, but Garth barely heard him.

His fists clenched at his sides, and a chill ran down his spine. For a moment — just a second — he swore he'd heard someone call his name. He turned sharply. The forest stretched out before him — dark, silent. No one was there. His jaw tightened.

Something inside him twisted sharply, a feeling he couldn't shake.

Unable to hide his emotions, he called out for the only woman he knew who could help him. "Eleanor, she's calling. I can feel it. Please forgive me. Help me."

He knew she was his only hope of finding Rebecca alive. But he also knew he had doubted her, tossed his anger and disbelief in her face. Now, when he desperately needed her, would she come?

*****
Amelia sniffled, her small hands clutching the edge of her damp sweater as she stared at Rebecca's still form.

She had tried everything. She had pressed cool river water to Rebecca's skin. She had covered her with her sweater, even though it left her shivering in the evening air. She had found dry leaves buried under the branches and used them as a makeshift blanket. She had held her hand, whispered stories, and prayed.

But Rebecca wasn't getting better.

The sun had started to set, casting long golden streaks over the muddy riverbank. Amelia wiped at her tear-streaked face with the back of her hand.

She looked at Rebecca, at the way her chest barely moved. The young girl wasn't sure if she was breathing or if she was, for how long. She squeezed her eyes shut and whispered. "Travis, you promised to come back. Don't leave us here."

Her voice was so small, so full of heartbreak, that she didn't hear the hoofbeats at first.
She didn't hear the crack of branches and the rustling of movement through the trees.
A dog barked, and Travis yelled, "Amelia!"

Her eyes snapped open. Her heart stuttered. A shape emerged from the trees. A gray spotted pony with a slight sway in its back. A travois dragging behind it. And then —Travis.

Amelia let out a sob. "Travis!" she cried, scrambling to her feet.

He was pale, blood dried on his temple, his limp more pronounced than before. But he was here. She ran towards him, throwing her arms around him and burying her face against his chest.

Travis winced but held on to her, his arms trembling. "Hey, kid," he whispered. "I told you I'd be back." Then, his gaze locked onto Rebecca. His chest tightened painfully. "Lenore —" he rasped.

"I see her." The cloaked woman dismounted, her eyes sharp and knowing, as she hurriedly knelt beside Rebecca. She pressed her fingers against Rebecca's forehead and throat. "Fever's deep," she murmured.

Travis ran a shaking hand through his hair. "Can you help her?" he pleaded. "Can we move her?"

Lenore didn't answer right away. Instead, she reached for the leather pouch at her belt, pulling out bundles of dried herbs, a small stone vial, and a carved wooden bowl.
"If we don't break the fever," she said, "she won't survive the journey. We need a fire."

Travis moved quickly, ignoring the way his body screamed in protest. His hands were unsteady as he gathered wood, stacking it into a small pile near the clearing.

Amelia, her face streaked with dirt and worry, helped, grabbing sticks.

The wolf-dog circled the clearing, alert, pacing.

Within minutes, flames flickered to life, helped by the dry paper and small pieces of wood they'd brought with them. They danced high, casting flickering shadows across the clearing.

The wolf dog lay beside Amelia, its body stretched out, its eyes never leaving Rebecca.

Lenore sat cross-legged beside the fire, grinding the dried herbs with a smooth black stone. Her voice was low, murmuring something Travis couldn't understand.

Amelia curled tightly against Travis's shivering body and felt safe. "What's she saying?" she whispered.

Travis shook his head. "I don't know," he murmured. "But I hope it works."

Lenore poured a few drops from the stone vial into the mixture, creating a thick, pungent paste. She dipped her fingers into it, pressing the mixture against Rebecca's skin.

Her temples.

Her throat.

Her chest.

Then — she began to sing.

It was not in English or any language that Travis recognized. But it wrapped around them, weaving through the trees, sinking into the fire's crackling rhythm. Each word carried a magic of its own.

The pony stood motionless except for an occasional flick of his ears. The wolf dog let out a soft howl, tipping his head toward the sky.

For a long time, nothing happened, and then Rebecca's breath hitched. Amelia gasped. Lenore's voice faded into silence.

Rebecca's body stopped shaking. Her breathing evened out. Still weak. Still pale. But stable.

Lenore wiped her hands on her cloak and stood. "It's time," she murmured.

Travis exhaled sharply, jumping up and hurrying to Lenore's side.

Amelia scrambled up, watching as Lenore and Travis carefully lifted Rebecca onto the travois, securing her with soft blankets and leather straps.

The pony shifted but remained steady. Lenore turned to Travis. "You'll walk beside her. The wolf dog will lead us."

Travis nodded.

Amelia hesitated. "And me?"

Lenore's expression softened for the first time. "You'll ride," she said, lifting Amelia onto the pony's back.

Amelia's eyes widened with awe. She clutched the pony's mane, careful but excited. Then, without another word, they set off.

The forest closed around them, mist rising like ghosts between the trees. Travis couldn't put his finger on it, nor did he understand, but he felt they were being protected by something or someone during their trek.

Rebecca's breathing was steady, but she never stirred.

The journey to the cottage had begun.




Main Characters -
Spirits from the past -
Eleanor Bennett - ghost detective
Danni - jr. ghost detective working with Matthew Donatelli
Cornelius Webb - Miriam's nemesis and murderer
Miriam Cascio - Trevor's murdered bride, Rebecca's grandmother and protector of the Vineyard
Antonio Maggio - Rebecca's grandfather and Miriam's first love

Bayside's Community --
Jenna Bennett - Event planner, Eleanor's daughter, Maggie's mother, Donatelli's love
Matthew Donatelli - Bayside's lead detective and Maggie's father
Rebecca Cascio Stillwell - recently inherited the Vineyard after discovering her adoption
Garth Woodman - FBI Agent and widower (Allie) and potentially interested in Rebecca
Joseph DeLuca - Bayside detective
John Doyle - Ex-judge, nemesis to all, and escaped prisoner from Joliet State Prison.
Vince Rossi - mobster and Doyle's cellmate and escaped prisoner
Grayson Webb - grand nephew and recently inherited the Webb Estate
Althea Webb Cascio - mother to Travis and half-sister to Rebecca
Travis - missing boy
Amelia - girl in the caves
Phil Henderson - Bayside family lawyer
Maria - a woman escaping the tunnels
Lenore - an old woman with a wolf dog and magic
Criminals -
Zhang Wei - once involved in human trafficking with Doyle, seeks revenge for his career losses after Doyle's downfall from the Judge's bench.
Frank DiVito - retired gangster and childhood friend of Garth
Sam - Frankie's right-hand man and friend
Jack Lexington - Chicago kingpin
Tony "The Hawk" - Salvatore "Sal" and Vito Greco -- the New York mob
Pays one point and 2 member cents.


Save to Bookcase Promote This Share or Bookmark
Print It Print It View Reviews

You need to login or register to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.


© Copyright 2025. Begin Again All rights reserved.
Begin Again has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.