Convocation, page 9
“Jarek!” a voice began to echo through his head. “Jarek, are you okay?” It was Marcus trying to pull him back into reality, he could tell. But he didn’t want to. He needed to see what Mary was trying to show him.
The small distraction weakened the demon’s grip on Jarek. The beast began to fade. Jarek with all his might began to push forward. Again, and again. Finally, the hold was broken and Jarek moved right through the translucent skin. As he passed through, he felt the old thin hair sweep along his face, igniting the chill down his spine once more.
Jarek rushed down the hallway to the open door. A cold, musty draft came pouring from the opening. It smelled of earth, of damp soil. Jarek stopped—he couldn’t see anything. It was pitch black in the passageway. He looked at his feet. The glow from the light flickering in the hallway allowed him to see he was standing on wet ground. He wasn’t in the building anymore. He could hear wind howling and water dripping. He drew a deep breath, unsure what to do.
Snarling and hissing resumed, but it was now behind him. He spun back toward the hallway. With each flicker the sight became clearer. Down the hall, near Mary’s door, stood the demon, eyes still empty black holes that were still looking into Jarek’s soul. A snap of a jaw and Jarek saw—that noise, the animal . . . just off to the side of the demon a crocodile hissed. It lifted its tail and smacked it on the floor. Mother of God, what the hell?
“Help her!” hit Jarek’s ears hard. It was Mary, yelling directly in his ear. The door to the passageway slammed shut. Everything went black. No sound besides Jarek’s heavy breathing.
“Jarek!” Marcus yelled.
Jarek’s eyes began to focus. Each blink brought him closer to reality. He felt a rush of cold on his face. He blinked rapidly and realized Marcus had thrown some water on his face.
“There, there, Mac, you all right?”
“Uh, I uh . . .”
“You fainted on me, Jarek. I didn’t know what to do,” Marcus said while helping him sit up. “What happened to you?”
“Uh, um, Ms. Frank showed me what happened to her.”
Marcus stared blankly back at Jarek.
“I . . . I know where her body might be.”
“Excellent. Where is it?”
“Well, I think I know, at least.” He glanced around and could no longer see Mary nearby. “We need to go talk to someone first, though.”
“I’m not bringing anyone else into this investigation.”
“No, I think she might be able to help us. I think she will know the place that Mary showed me.”
“I guess I really don’t have a choice, do I?”
“No, Marcus. I’m afraid you don’t.”
“Yeah, I thought so. Okay, where are we going?”
“We need to go find Ulrika. I think she may know how to get to where I think all the bodies are.”
Chapter 9
The Johnstons
December 31, 1924, 1:39 p.m.
“You may be a little different, Mac, but you certainly do seem to care about these missing women,” Marcus said, finally breaking the awkward silence that ensued after the two men began their journey from the hotel to Ulrika’s home. He hesitated midstride. “I mean that in the nicest way possible.”
“I take no offense.” Jarek laughed to himself thinking back on all the times people mocked him. “I do appreciate you taking this leap of faith on me. I know this likely isn’t comfortable for you.”
“Why do you say that?”
Jarek’s eyes shifted to Marcus. “Well, I am used to being the brunt of jokes most of the time. The exception, of course, being the people that specifically asked for my services.” Jarek debated letting out the next words for a moment. “And, well, I feel you are holding back some of your views of me. Nonetheless, you are here and listening to me, so I believe I have misread you, and I apologize for that.”
“I appreciate that, Jarek.”
Jarek liked that he called him by his name instead of the generic term Mac.
“I can tell you are a reserved fellow,” Marcus continued. “A bit shy, but not so much that you are timid. You just know to think about what you are going to say before you say it. That is a very good quality to have. You try to convey that you don’t seem to care what others think of you either.”
“You are not far off on your assessment of me, Marcus. You are self-aware and confident yourself. You aren’t afraid to speak your mind, which is also a good quality to have. You yourself don’t care what others think of you either.”
“I like to think that I couldn’t care less what others think about. And even though you seem to be the same way, it just isn’t reality. No matter how much confidence we have, we all go through life with some voice in the back of our minds telling us that others think less of us than they really do. But I overcome that by telling that voice to zip it, and that we are all just humans trying to get through life each day. It is what we choose to do each day that dictates our character, not the voice in our own heads or what others think of us.”
Jarek shook his head in agreement. “You are very correct, Marcus. I think you and I see eye to eye on lots of things . . . even though you’re much taller.” They both laughed at the quip. “Maybe it’s because of our past experiences during the war.”
“What? My height?” Marcus asked while still laughing.
“No. Our outlook on life. We both realized just how fragile and small each life really is in comparison to the wider world.”
Snow started to float down from the clouds above again as they walked. The soft breeze hitting Jarek’s face every few minutes was getting on his nerves. This was a beautiful area, just like Saint Paul, but he still questioned how people could like living in the cold for months, year after year.
“So not a big fan of the cold here either?” Marcus asked, as if reading his mind.
Jarek laughed. “Not particularly. But I must say, it is beautiful to see. And the people in this part of the country seem to be very nice and genuine. We have a habit of getting too caught up in the hustle and bustle in New York City. Here, they seem to work hard but yet take time for each other when it is needed. Granted, I am just a visitor, and it may come across that way.”
“I think you are right,” Marcus said. “I think they are genuinely nice people here. I haven’t talked to many yet, because I was instructed to maintain a low profile. So my interactions have been limited to the local law enforcement. Well, and Mr. Clark and a little with Ulrika. And now you, of course.”
For a few moments, only the sound of their boots pushing through the snow-dusted walkway could be heard, as neither man felt like they needed to break the silence. However, Jarek began to sense that Marcus had another question. “What else is it you’d like to ask me?”
Marcus swallowed loudly. “I want to ask you, how much do you know about Ulrika? I mean, you must know her well enough that you are taking me to her now.”
“Just acquainted with her.” Jarek’s mind wandered to the telegram Leona had sent. “To be honest, I was asked to come find her. That is the reason I was sent to Deadwood. I don’t know why. She isn’t responsible for the missing women, I don’t believe, but somehow there’s a connection.”
“I certainly hope she isn’t connected . . . for personal reasons,” Marcus said, shifting his eyes to the ground in front of his feet.
“Ah, I see.” Jarek chuckled. “So you don’t mind coming on this walk for two reasons,” he said, eyebrows raised and grin on his face.
“Must confess, there’s something about her I am drawn to. She is clearly a hard worker. She has a calm demeanor. Yet I think if a man ever crossed her, they’d be on their ass before they knew what happened.”
“I can respect those traits a lot myself.”
“How about you, Jarek? You have a kitten back home in New York?”
“Me? Oh, no. I have had a few interests over the years, but with my life and just the more I think about it, I don’t need that part to make my life complete.”
“A bachelor for life—now that is something I can respect too. I hate to see people rush into marriage simply because they ‘should.’ It isn’t a decision to be made lightly. I see too many marriages in my line of work that go south. One spouse ends up killing the other . . . literally.” Marcus laughed a bit. “Sorry, that was dark. But unfortunately, it’s a fact of my job.”
“We have different professions, but we both deal in death, so I understand. Besides, you and I have seen our fair share of death—we need to make jokes every so often to remain sane.”
“Right you are, Jarek,” he replied in a quiet tone.
The two men continued their journey to the Johnston home. Jarek hoped he remembered the way from walking with Ulrika there. The city somehow seemed bigger during the day. As they turned on the street to trek up the hill where the house stood, Jarek stopped midstride. His eyes saw several spheres of light dancing about twenty feet above the ground. They were just randomly circling around.
“Everything okay?” Marcus asked with a concerned expression.
“Yes. Sorry, I, uh . . .”
Marcus sighed. “No need to explain. Something I wouldn’t understand?”
Jarek let out a little laugh as he watched the orbs bounce about. He counted the lights. Thirteen. Thirteen souls dancing about. They aren’t coming or going anywhere, just hovering here. “Well, what are you waiting for? We’re almost there,” Jarek said sarcastically to Marcus, who was clearly waiting on him. He gestured toward the white house. “It is just that house right up there.”
As the men got closer to the home, Jarek began to feel different. Each step made his stomach twist and turn in knots. It felt as though someone was kneading his abdomen like how someone kneads bread dough. He slowed his pace to counter the unexpected feeling.
“Are you sure you are all right?” Marcus asked. He was already ahead of Jarek and about to push open the gate to the Johnstone walkway.
“It must have been something I ate. I don’t feel particularly well.”
Marcus walked back toward him, placing his hand on his shoulder. “You look very pale. Perhaps we should rest for a moment.”
Just then the hinges of the gate squeaked as someone opened it, making both men jump a little.
“Can I help you two?” asked a woman. Jarek looked up, recognizing her.
“Mrs. Johnstone—,” he began to say before she cut him off.
“I remember you. You were having lunch at the hotel where my daughter works.”
“Yes, ma’am. My name is Jarek,” he said with his hand outstretched. She returned the gesture with her gloved hand. “Sorry for the unannounced visit. We were hoping to talk to your daughter.”
“Please, call me Ursula. And may I ask why you need to see my daughter? Don’t misunderstand, but she has been feeling unwell all day.”
“There is another young woman missing, and she was staying at the hotel,” Marcus answered. “Sorry, I am Marcus Livingston. I am an agent from Washington investigating the case.”
Ursula’s expression changed from friendly to stern quickly. “And what would my daughter have to do with any of this? Besides, since when does the government care about what happens here in Deadwood?”
“I am sorry, ma’a . . . Ursula. I meant no offense. We simply want to talk with her about the woman’s last day in hopes of locating her.”
“And he is here to help solve the cases of all the missing women,” Jarek added optimistically.
“Well, if that is true, it is about damn time,” Ursula said. “And what about you? Jarek, right? What are you doing in Deadwood?”
“Just coincidence that I’m here on business,” Jarek replied with a fib.
“So you aren’t here from Washington with this gentleman?” she asked while crossing her arms.
“Nope. Just here on some personal business and happened to meet Marcus at the hotel.”
“You both knew each other? Old friends?”
“No, just, uh . . .” Marcus began to respond.
“Just acquaintances,” Jarek interjected. “Just acquaintances from the war.” Jarek glanced at Marcus, who had a puzzled expression but didn’t say anything. Ursula shifted her eyes between the two men.
“We won’t take long, I promise,” Marcus stated.
“Oh, very well. But if she doesn’t feel up to it, you will have to come back another day, or wait for her to return to work.”
“Understood. We won’t take long,” Jarek said, trying to reassure her.
“All right, follow me.”
Ursula led the way to the house. Jarek walked last, his stomach still twisting and turning with each step. But he knew he needed to talk with Ulrika, so he had to ignore the discomfort.
Once inside, Ursula did not offer to take their coats and hats. The men stood there, waiting for her to say something, while looking around. The home was simple, modest in furnishing, and most seemed to be older pieces. However, it was still a nice home with a small sitting area off to the side of what Jarek assumed were the living and dining areas. A staircase tucked behind the sitting area likely led to the bedrooms on the second floor. The rugs on the plank floorboards were worn but well maintained. The furniture was the same—worn, but nice in appearance.
“You may leave your boots on, but please wait in our parlor while I go talk to Ulrika.” Ursula disappeared up the stairs as the men moved into the sitting area. They didn’t remove their coats. Jarek didn’t want to make himself too comfortable until they knew they could talk with Ulrika. They sat down at the same time. The spring in the seat of Jarek’s chair made a crunching sound as his weight compressed it.
Marcus looked over at him. “Why did you tell her we were acquaintances from the war? I don’t like to deceive; it is never a productive way to interact with potential interviewees.”
“I wasn’t fibbing,” Jarek replied stone-faced.
“But—”
Footsteps coming down the stairs interrupted their conversation. The men stood as Ursula and Ulrika entered the room. Ulrika, behind her mother, looking especially pallid.
“Thank you so much for coming down, Ms. Johnston,” Marcus said as soon as he saw her.
“Mother said you are here from Washington to talk about the missing women?”
“Yes, I am. And you already know Jarek, I am told,” he blurted out. Ursula’s eyes shot over to Jarek as if to accuse him of lying to her.
“Ah, yes. From the hotel,” Jarek responded quickly.
“Here, please sit, Ms. Johnston,” Marcus offered as he placed his hands on the back of the chair he had been sitting in. She graciously accepted his gesture and sat down.
“Okay, how can I be of service?” she said in a dry, hoarse voice.
“I am sorry to bother you while you aren’t feeling well,” Jarek said.
“Yes, we are very sorry,” Marcus followed. “We won’t be too long, and we can let you resume resting.”
“I think that would be best,” Ursula said with narrowed eyes.
“Don’t worry, we will. I just need to gather some information to build the timeline of the disappearance,” Marcus continued.
“Disappearance? What would I know of the missing women?” Ulrika asked.
“Mary Frank, the young woman that had been staying at the Terry Hotel, is now missing as well. I am trying to gather as much information as quickly as possible while it’s still fresh.”
“I don’t think Ulrika would know anything about—” Ursula began to say before being cut off by another voice from the other room.
“Ursula, honey, I need your help,” said the strained, elderly voice.
“Yes, Mother, I will be right there.” Ursula stood still, looking at the two men.
She is clearly a protective matriarch. She finally left the room without saying another word.
“Sorry to put all this on you, Ulrika,” Jarek said, “but while your mother is occupied, I want to be quick. Mary Frank disappeared last night. She, uh, she showed me.”
“As in you talked to her? You saw her ghost, you mean?” Ulrika said in her sick voice.
“Yes, lots to share, but the quick story is that Mary shared with me her own memory of what happened to her last night . . . Well, bits and pieces of what happened to her.”
Ulrika’s expression, or rather her lack of expression, caught Jarek off guard. He knew she was open to the supernatural, but he hadn’t realized how open. She seemed unfazed. She sat there, appearing to take in every word coming out of Jarek’s mouth as he explained what Mary had shown him. By the time he got to the end of the vision, Ulrika was leaning in toward him, on the edge of her seat, clearly finding his story truthful.
“I don’t see how I can be of much help,” she finally said. “I didn’t see anything, and it seems like you already have the insight to what happened.”
“Jarek believes that you might know where Mary would have gone once she went into the passageway on the second floor of the hotel,” Marcus said. He met her ill-stricken eyes. “Also, I am very sorry again that we are here with you feeling unwell.”
“It is quite all right,” Ulrika responded with a smile and a few blinks of the peepers. The flirting between the two of them made Jarek turn his head to hide his soft laugh. Seeing Ulrika look so sick but trying to flirt back was too comical.
“Do you know where that passage leads to?” he asked. “I think it holds the answer to our questions. From what I saw in the vision, it just isn’t to the building next door. When Mary showed me the passageway it was dark, and . . . and it smelled different. It smelt musty—wet and earthy. I know it wasn’t really the passageway she was showing me. It was someplace else.”
Ulrika’s expression finally revealed a hint of dread. She sat in silence. Her face was hard as marble.
“Where do you think she went after she left the hotel?” Jarek asked pointedly. “You’re familiar with this town. Can you guess where she might have gone?”
Ulrika’s eyes began to shift back and forth as a small bead of sweat formed near her hairline. She ran her hand over her forehead to brush the sweat and pat back her frizzy hair. She took a deep breath as Marcus squatted down and placed his hand on her knee.
