The Piper (6 page)

‘Amelia,' Olivia said.

‘You sound out of breath.'

‘I had to run for the phone. Is everything okay with you? How's Marianne holding up?'

‘She's losing ground inch but inch, but they're still keeping her propped up. How is it going for you?'

‘Bad day. Teddy told me a lie about knocking over some boxes, and she's upset anyway – her cousins are telling her creepy stories about the house.'

‘That's mean.' Amelia sounded distracted.

‘What's up with you?' Olivia said.

‘The thing is, I've been doing more research. On phone calls. Like you got from your brother.'

‘Yeah, me too. Are you as obsessed with this as I am? I'm spending way too much time on the Internet with this.'

‘Did you find the one about the Metro link crash?'

‘No.'

‘Okay, listen. Do you remember when that Metro link commuter train in LA collided with the freight train? It was 2008, September, I think.'

‘Oh, God yes, the Chatsworth crash. Didn't you go into the ER that night?'

‘Yeah, everyone did who could. There are only two trauma centers in the San Fernando Valley, and they were swamped. Twenty-five people were killed in the crash, something like a hundred thirty injured.'

‘I remember that. The engineer missed a signal, right, because he was texting?'

‘Who knows what really caused it. The thing is – there was this passenger on the train – he worked for Delta in Salt Lake City, and was in Los Angeles for a job interview, because his fiancée lived in California and he wanted a transfer. She was actually on her way to pick him up at the Moorpark Station when she heard about the crash.'

‘God. How terrible.'

‘He called her, Livie. It's all documented. He had two grown sons, and his family was together waiting to find out if he survived the crash. We're talking about a fiancée, two sons, a brother and sister, stepmom. The first call was to the fiancée, I think.'

‘The
first
call?'

‘The caller ID showed this guy's number. And when his fiancée answered, all she could hear was static. And then one of the sons gets a call. Then all their cell phones start ringing and eventually all of them get calls. They try to call him back, because all they get is static on the line, but when they call back, the calls just go to voice mail.'

Olivia shivered. Please tell me this ends well, she thought. ‘So he was injured then? Calling for help?'

‘That's what his family thought. So they get with the rescue workers, who start tracing the signal from his phone, trying to locate him in the wreckage. It's carnage there, remember. The emergency services are overwhelmed. But for a period of eleven hours, this family keeps getting his calls. Thirty-five calls in all, Livie, all documented. Then at three twenty-eight a.m., all the calls stop.'

‘Did they save him?' Olivia said.

‘They found him one hour after the calls stopped, twelve hours after the crash. According to the coroner, he died instantly, on impact – the Metro link engine car got shoved back into the first passenger car, he never had a chance.'

‘Are you telling me he was dead when he made the calls? Because maybe he was hurt and called till he died, or somebody else was using his phone.'

‘Nope. They traced the phone signal to where his body was, in the first car, so nobody else had the phone. And the autopsy confirmed that he wasn't alive after the crash. All of the calls came in after he died.'

Olivia paced the living room. ‘I don't know, Amelia. It sort of has that urban legend flavor.'

‘Look it up yourself. I found stories in the
LA Times
, and the whole incident has a
true and authenticated
status on SNOPES.'

‘SNOPES?'

‘That website, Livie. You know, the one that checks out urban legends and those dumb-ass warning emails people forward. But they authenticate this story. And I think this guy was trying to tell his family goodbye, that he loved them and all that jazz.'

Olivia sat down. ‘Yeah, I hear you. And I do think you're right – I've been doing my own research and I can believe he was telling his family that he was somehow okay, trying to comfort them and give them peace. Don't you think that's why Chris called? To comfort me, and let me know he's okay?'

‘Partly. But he was warning you too, Liv.'

‘Yeah, I know, you told me, and I wish you'd just let it go.'

‘Let it go? Don't go into that southern denial thing, Livie. Think about what he said – The Mister Man. That was your nickname for whoever took your sister, twenty-five years ago. Maybe he's around.'

‘After twenty-five years? You know what, Amelia, I don't tell people about Emily, and this is the main reason why. To you, it's a scary story, to me it's real life and real hell.'

‘That's not fair. I
do
understand. And I'm a good enough friend to tell you what you
need
to hear instead of what you
want
to hear.'

‘The Queen of Tough Love. If you want to be a good friend, Amelia, don't bring Emily up again. It's private and it's painful and unless you've been through it you can't know anything about what it's like.'

‘Oh, come on, Livie. When you ask me about Marianne, do I rub your nose in that
nobody knows how I feel
kind of shit?'

Olivia's voice went small. ‘No.'

‘Sorry. Really, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be such a bitch.'

‘It's just – I'm finally home, okay? And it feels good for me here. I just want to be happy, I'm not looking for trouble. I've got my hands full making a living and raising my kid. Things are looking better for me. Or are you going to tell me I should never have come home?'

‘No, that's
not
what I'm saying. The call from Chris came when you were in California, remember? It would have happened no matter where you live. I just wish I understood what your brother meant, don't you? Doesn't it worry you at all? And hearing about this Metro link thing – it just makes it feel more real. More like you better pay attention. The phone call
was
a warning, Olivia. Don't turn your back.'

‘Fine, then, Amelia. What is it you suggest I do?'

‘I don't know.'

‘Exactly. I just need to remember not to be happy because something bad is going to happen and I better watch out. That sum it up?'

‘I'm not saying don't be happy.'

‘Well, hey. Thanks for that.'

O
livia was restless after Amelia called. Upset over their fight.

She went to the kitchen to unpack a box, but found she did not have the heart or the energy to open it up. She opened the refrigerator and looked inside. Nothing interesting to eat.

Finally, she went to the sunroom, opened her briefcase and fired up her laptop. It was dark out, lights from houses down the block reflecting in the window panes. She wondered why Chris and Charlotte didn't have any blinds or curtains or shutters in the sunroom. Of all the rooms in the house, this one had the most charm. Olivia wasn't quite sure why she didn't spend more time here. It had been the heart of the house, when she was a child.

She took her laptop and curled up on the couch in the living room, where all the windows were tightly shuttered. She felt more private here, more safe. In the sunroom she felt watched.

She pulled up a search engine, and entered
phone calls from the dead
plus
warnings.
She looked over her shoulder, while the screen began to fill, and tapped a finger on the edge of the keyboard. She wasn't sure she wanted to do this, look at her brother's phone call this way. But Amelia, annoying as she was, definitely had a point. Maybe she was hiding in southern denial.

Olivia looked over at the fireplace mantel, at the picture of Chris and Charlotte and all three of his kids. An old picture, Cassidy was just an infant. The picture had actually been taken here, in front of the fireplace, and Chris looked happy, unshadowed. God, she missed him. They had had the usual family squabbles and irritations, but there was no one quite like a sibling, someone who had lived so much of your life. So easy to ignore a big brother when you lived hundreds of miles away. To take for granted that you could visit, share a meal, go for coffee and talk. Little things you never thought about until you couldn't do it anymore, and then they seemed more important than anything else in the world.

Thinking about the afterlife and ghostly visitations was fine, Olivia thought, as long as the thoughts and experiences were good. As long as the experience was a spiritual comfort.

When it went south to the dark side, Olivia wasn't sure she wanted to know. She had enough problems just dealing with everyday stuff.

But she went to the search engine, and found a chat room, not joining or signing in, just lurking, reading old posts that came up under
warnings from the dead
.

TORN & IN LOVE (posted eighteen months ago): But he's perfect. I never expected to find a man like this. My daughter lives in San Francisco, but she came down for Easter, and they hit it off. He charmed her, that's for sure. He never loses his temper, like my first husband. He cares about me. I've been happier the last six months than ever in my life. I can't help feeling like I deserve a man like this. I can't imagine not having him in my life. It would be crazy to throw a relationship like this away, over something this, well, vague.

WORRIED IN PHOENIX: But TORN, when your mother called you, did she actually use his name?

TORN & IN LOVE: Yes. That was what's got me so scrambled up inside. She said ‘stay away,' then there was static, and then she said ‘Clark.' And I know it was her voice, it was unmistakable. She sounded good, she said she loved me. God, I miss her so much.

WORRIED IN PHOENIX: How long has your mother been dead?

TORN & IN LOVE: Two years last Christmas.

WORRIED IN PHOENIX: You can't be sure what she meant. With the static and all. Maybe you should just go slow with the relationship, sort of keep a watchful eye.

TORN & IN LOVE: Yes. That's good advice. The thing is, he's asked me to marry him. He got me a ring. He has this whole destination wedding-honeymoon planned, and my God, it's so cold here, I'd go to Jamaica with him just to get warm.

WORRIED IN PHOENIX: You should come live here in Phoenix, you'd have all the warm you want. Where are you?

TORN & IN LOVE: Vermont. It's still snowing at the end of April.

Olivia kept scrolling. Nothing else from
TORN & IN LOVE
. She pulled up a new search window and typed in various combinations of
Vermont
,
Clark
and
weddings.
Nothing. Well, women rarely put a wedding notice in the paper for a second marriage later in life. No surprise. On a whim she added
San Francisco
, hoping for some smalltown newsy item that included a daughter coming in for a wedding from out of town. She came up with a notice then – but not a wedding announcement. An obituary from the
Burlington Times
.

Burlington, May 21st: Juliana Hargreaves Cavannaugh, aged forty-nine, known to friends and family as ‘Jules', died yesterday of an apparent heart attack in her home. Her body was discovered at 2:00 PM by her husband, Clark Cavannaugh, who returned home from work concerned when Mrs Cavannaugh did not show up for a lunch date the couple had planned. Mr and Mrs Cavannaugh had recently been married at a destination wedding in Ochos Rios, Jamaica, returning from their honeymoon just one week ago. Visitation will be held from four to six tomorrow, at the Grayson Funeral Home, with burial at the Burlington Cemetery on Tuesday, at 3:00 PM. Ms. Cavannaugh is survived by her husband, Clark, a daughter and son in law, Mr & Mrs Vaughn Melrose of San Francisco, and two grandchildren, Cary and Silas, aged six and three.

Olivia set the laptop on the coffee table, and put her head in her hands, feeling sick to her stomach and sad. There was no doubt in her mind that
TORN & IN LOVE
was dead. She had a name now, Jules, and she was a presence in Olivia's mind now, whether she liked it or not.

Juliana Hargreaves Cavannaugh had received a phone call from the dead too – a warning call, told by her mother to
stay away
from
Clark
. Now she was dead, one week after marrying the guy. Had Jules somehow been murdered by this Clark, who had given her a drug or something to fake a heart attack? Olivia would never know. There was nothing she could do for Juliana, who was now dead, no way she would know for sure if it was at the hands of her new and perfect husband, Clark.

But the lesson was there. And Chris had told her to be careful of the mysterious
Mister Man
. Shit. How exactly was she going to do that?

O
livia's work day was a total loss. One canceled appointment, a lot of phone calls that brought her annoyed customers and no sales. Her mind had not been on the job, her thoughts divided between warning phone calls from beyond the grave, and, on the practical side, how she was going to approach Charlotte about Janet telling Teddy scary stories about the house. She considered what she was going to say as she passed through the second light on Ebenezer, on her way to pick Teddy up. She was threading the suburban maze when her cell phone rang.

As always, now, she tensed, but it was Hugh's name that came up on the caller ID. She hesitated, then said hello, pulling to the side of the road. She was not one of those people who could talk and drive at the same time. Not when the caller was her ex husband.

‘Olivia? Look, is this a good time for you? Are you somewhere private, where Teddy can't hear?'

The hum of the car's air conditioner was noisy. Olivia shut the engine down. It was a hot day, the car full of afternoon heat, and the coolness seeped quickly away.