| Mystery and Crime Fiction posted January 7, 2025 | Chapters: |
2 3 -4- 5 
|
Eleanor searches for Miriam
A chapter in the book Veil of Secrets
Veil of Secrets - Chap 4
by Begin Again
Eleanor materialized outside the small cottage, her form shimmering faintly in the pale light of the overcast sky. The cool breeze carried the scent of damp earth and the faint aroma of the vineyard. Milo crowed from atop the low stone wall, his sharp call breaking the silence. He tilted his head, eyeing Eleanor with a familiarity that made her smile.
"Good morning, Milo," Eleanor greeted softly. The rooster flapped his wings and hopped down, strutting toward her with the confidence of an old friend. "Yes, I've missed her too," she murmured, crouching slightly as Milo clucked, pecking at the hem of her dress.
Willow, the ever-patient donkey, brayed from the garden's edge and began a slow, deliberate walk toward Eleanor. His large, expressive eyes held a sadness that echoed Eleanor's own feelings. He nuzzled against her, and she scratched between his ears before producing two carrots, to the donkey's surprise.
"I know, Willow," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "You wonder where she's gone, just like I do. I wish you could tell me what you've seen, if someone came here or if she left on her own." Willow brayed again, his ears flicking back as if responding to her plea.
Milo let out another sharp crow and flapped onto the stone wall again, facing the cottage once more. Eleanor followed his gaze, her expression tightening. Once so full of life, the cottage felt eerily still, its windows darkened and its door slightly ajar.
As she approached the cottage, a faint sensation brushed against her awareness — a familiar yet faint presence. "Miriam? Was that you?" She stopped and looked around, waiting for some kind of response, but none came.
The cottage door creaked as she pushed it open, the sound echoing through the still air. Inside, dust motes floated lazily in the pale shafts of light filtering through the cracked shutters. The faint scent of lavender and Miriam's essence still clung to the air, but something was amiss — an absence that felt like a void.
"Miriam?" Eleanor called, her voice a mixture of hope and dread.
From behind her, Milo crowed sharply again, a note of alarm in his cry. Eleanor spun around, her gaze sweeping the room, her senses on high alert. But the space remained silent, save for the faint rustle of the wind through the vineyard beyond.
She turned to the door and glanced at Willow, who stood steadfast, his ears twitching as if listening for something only he could hear. "Don't worry, old friend," she said softly. "We'll find her. Somehow, we'll bring her back."
Eleanor's gaze swept the room, and she felt the faint traces of Miriam's presence, like echoes of a song far in the distance. She closed her eyes, letting herself attune to the memories imprinted here.
She could sense Miriam tending to Donatelli when he had been on the brink of death. The memory was vivid —Miriam's gentle hands nursing him back to health, her quiet determination to save him as though it might atone for the life she couldn't save.
Another flicker — Miriam talking to Willow, her donkey, as she fed him carrots. Her voice was soft, almost musical, as she shared stories of the vineyard's past. Eleanor smiled faintly, recalling how Miriam always found solace in simple acts of care.
Eleanor moved deeper into the room, and the memories shifted again. She could feel Miriam walking the rows of the vineyard, her footsteps deliberate, her touch reverent as she ran her fingers over the leaves. And then there was Rebecca — Miriam's warmth as she bonded with her granddaughter, showing her the secrets of the land, planting seeds of courage in a young woman who barely understood her own strength.
But most poignant was the connection Eleanor herself had shared with Miriam. In this very cottage, Miriam had confided her darkest secrets — the weight of Cornelius's betrayal, the guilt she carried for leaving Antonio, and the quiet, unshakable love that had kept her bound to this place for so long. Eleanor's chest tightened, the absence of her friend cutting deeper with each memory.
Yet now, there was nothing — no trace of Miriam's presence, no whisper of her spirit. Something was blocking their connection — a barrier Eleanor couldn't pierce. Frustration and worry gnawed at her as she paced the small room.
"What's keeping you from me, Miriam?" she murmured, her voice soft but insistent. "What or who is holding you back?"
She turned toward the door, preparing to leave, when something flickered in the corner of her eye. Eleanor froze, her gaze snapping to the large, ornate mirror propped against the far wall. The glass was dull and cracked in places, but for a moment, she swore she saw a figure.
"Miriam?" Eleanor's voice rose, hope and disbelief mingling.
The figure moved — faint, barely there — and then vanished, leaving only the mirror's distorted reflection behind.
Eleanor stepped closer, her heart pounding. She reached out, her fingertips brushing the cool surface of the glass. It felt ordinary, lifeless, yet she knew what she had seen.
Pressing her palms flat against the mirror, she closed her eyes and whispered, "Miriam, I am here. I won't stop searching for you. I swear it."
The silence pressed around her, heavy and unyielding. Eleanor lingered a moment longer before lowering her hands. She took a step back, her resolve hardening. Whatever force was holding Miriam, it wouldn't win. She would find her — she had to.
As she turned to leave the cottage, a faint chill swept through the room. Eleanor paused, glancing back at the mirror, but it remained still, its surface reflecting only the empty space.
*****
The mirror's surface pulsed as if alive, reflecting a distorted version of the cottage. Miriam stood within, her ethereal form glowing faintly against the oppressive darkness. She pressed her hands to the glass, feeling its cold, unyielding barrier.
Her thoughts turned to Antonio, vivid memories playing like a slideshow in her mind. The warmth of their baby in her arms as Antonio's laughter rang out beside her. His whispered promises of forever. And then the searing pain of their final goodbye — his voice breaking as he begged her to stay, her heart shattering as her father dragged her away.
"I never stopped loving you," she whispered, tears forming in her eyes. "I tried to come back. I tried to make it right."
A sinister laugh echoed through the space, and Cornelius materialized behind her. His presence seemed to leech the light from the room, the shadows around him twisting unnaturally.
"Still clinging to that ridiculous sense of defiance, are we?" His voice dripped with venom. "You should have accepted your fate long ago, Miriam. Instead, you linger here like a ghostly parasite, clinging to a legacy that isn't yours."
Miriam turned to face him, her chin held high despite the weariness of her features. "You mean Trevor's legacy? The one you tried to steal when you murdered him? The one you couldn't touch because he outsmarted you, even in death?"
Cornelius' smirk faltered, his expression darkening. "Trevor was a fool. A sentimental fool who didn't understand the power this land holds. He squandered its potential, just as you do now."
"And yet, it's beyond your grasp," Miriam said. "Because he trusted me. He ensured you'd never get your claws into what was his."
Cornelius' form flickered, his anger visible. "You think you've won something? That staying here, tethered to this place, is some kind of victory? You've sacrificed everything — paradise, peace, your family — for what? To keep me out? You're a shadow, Miriam. A fading echo of a woman who should have stayed silent."
Miriam stepped closer, her eyes blazing with defiance. "I stayed because someone had to. Because you couldn't be allowed to desecrate what Trevor built. You've already taken too much."
"I've taken what was mine by right!" Cornelius snarled. The mirror trembled with his fury, ripples distorting its surface. "The vineyard should have been mine from the beginning. Trevor was weak, just like you. You were both so easy to destroy."
Miriam's voice dropped, cold and cutting. "You didn't destroy us. You murdered us. You tricked a town of frightened fools into hanging me, but you couldn't break my spirit then, and you won't now."
Cornelius's laugh was sharp, almost gleeful. "You think your spirit is unbroken? You've wasted your afterlife in this miserable prison. Meanwhile, I've grown stronger, feeding on the hatred and fear that this land breathes. And now, with Rebecca here, the pieces are finally falling into place."
Miriam's hands clenched into fists. "Rebecca will never fall for your lies, Cornelius. She's stronger than you think."
Cornelius stepped closer, his form looming over hers. "Strength? Don't delude yourself. She's just as naive as you were — ripe for manipulation. And once I claim this land, she'll have no choice but to surrender."
"You'll never claim it," Miriam hissed. "Not while I'm here."
Cornelius's expression twisted with rage. The mirror's surface darkened as he raised a hand. Shadows erupted from his palm, wrapping around Miriam like chains. "You think you can stop me?" he roared. "You're nothing! You're just a stubborn ghost clinging to a past you can't change!"
The chains tightened, but Miriam's voice rose above his. "And you're nothing but a coward, Cornelius. A bitter, pathetic coward who couldn't create anything worth keeping, so you steal from those who can."
Cornelius let out a furious snarl, his grip on the chains faltering. Miriam's light grew brighter, pushing back against the encroaching darkness. Her voice softened but lost none of its resolve. "You can rage and scheme all you want, but you'll never take this vineyard. Not from me. Not from Rebecca."
Cornelius staggered back, his form flickering as the glow around Miriam intensified. "You think this changes anything?" he spat, his voice trembling with fury. "You've delayed the inevitable, nothing more. I will find the boy. And when I do, even your precious Rebecca won't be able to save him."
Despite the slight dimming of Miriam's glow and her waning strength, she remained resolute, her unyielding gaze a testament to her determination. "You'll never find him. And even if you do, he'll see you for what you are — a monster," she declared, her voice unwavering.
Cornelius sneered, his form stabilizing. "We'll see, Miriam. We'll see." With that, he dissolved into the shadows, leaving Miriam alone in the mirror.
She staggered, her light flickering as exhaustion set in. But she forced herself to stand, her thoughts turning to Antonio. He was her last hope, the one connection she had left to the strength she needed.
"Antonio," she whispered, closing her eyes. "Please, I need you."
"Good morning, Milo," Eleanor greeted softly. The rooster flapped his wings and hopped down, strutting toward her with the confidence of an old friend. "Yes, I've missed her too," she murmured, crouching slightly as Milo clucked, pecking at the hem of her dress.
Willow, the ever-patient donkey, brayed from the garden's edge and began a slow, deliberate walk toward Eleanor. His large, expressive eyes held a sadness that echoed Eleanor's own feelings. He nuzzled against her, and she scratched between his ears before producing two carrots, to the donkey's surprise.
"I know, Willow," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "You wonder where she's gone, just like I do. I wish you could tell me what you've seen, if someone came here or if she left on her own." Willow brayed again, his ears flicking back as if responding to her plea.
Milo let out another sharp crow and flapped onto the stone wall again, facing the cottage once more. Eleanor followed his gaze, her expression tightening. Once so full of life, the cottage felt eerily still, its windows darkened and its door slightly ajar.
As she approached the cottage, a faint sensation brushed against her awareness — a familiar yet faint presence. "Miriam? Was that you?" She stopped and looked around, waiting for some kind of response, but none came.
The cottage door creaked as she pushed it open, the sound echoing through the still air. Inside, dust motes floated lazily in the pale shafts of light filtering through the cracked shutters. The faint scent of lavender and Miriam's essence still clung to the air, but something was amiss — an absence that felt like a void.
"Miriam?" Eleanor called, her voice a mixture of hope and dread.
From behind her, Milo crowed sharply again, a note of alarm in his cry. Eleanor spun around, her gaze sweeping the room, her senses on high alert. But the space remained silent, save for the faint rustle of the wind through the vineyard beyond.
She turned to the door and glanced at Willow, who stood steadfast, his ears twitching as if listening for something only he could hear. "Don't worry, old friend," she said softly. "We'll find her. Somehow, we'll bring her back."
Eleanor's gaze swept the room, and she felt the faint traces of Miriam's presence, like echoes of a song far in the distance. She closed her eyes, letting herself attune to the memories imprinted here.
She could sense Miriam tending to Donatelli when he had been on the brink of death. The memory was vivid —Miriam's gentle hands nursing him back to health, her quiet determination to save him as though it might atone for the life she couldn't save.
Another flicker — Miriam talking to Willow, her donkey, as she fed him carrots. Her voice was soft, almost musical, as she shared stories of the vineyard's past. Eleanor smiled faintly, recalling how Miriam always found solace in simple acts of care.
Eleanor moved deeper into the room, and the memories shifted again. She could feel Miriam walking the rows of the vineyard, her footsteps deliberate, her touch reverent as she ran her fingers over the leaves. And then there was Rebecca — Miriam's warmth as she bonded with her granddaughter, showing her the secrets of the land, planting seeds of courage in a young woman who barely understood her own strength.
But most poignant was the connection Eleanor herself had shared with Miriam. In this very cottage, Miriam had confided her darkest secrets — the weight of Cornelius's betrayal, the guilt she carried for leaving Antonio, and the quiet, unshakable love that had kept her bound to this place for so long. Eleanor's chest tightened, the absence of her friend cutting deeper with each memory.
Yet now, there was nothing — no trace of Miriam's presence, no whisper of her spirit. Something was blocking their connection — a barrier Eleanor couldn't pierce. Frustration and worry gnawed at her as she paced the small room.
"What's keeping you from me, Miriam?" she murmured, her voice soft but insistent. "What or who is holding you back?"
She turned toward the door, preparing to leave, when something flickered in the corner of her eye. Eleanor froze, her gaze snapping to the large, ornate mirror propped against the far wall. The glass was dull and cracked in places, but for a moment, she swore she saw a figure.
"Miriam?" Eleanor's voice rose, hope and disbelief mingling.
The figure moved — faint, barely there — and then vanished, leaving only the mirror's distorted reflection behind.
Eleanor stepped closer, her heart pounding. She reached out, her fingertips brushing the cool surface of the glass. It felt ordinary, lifeless, yet she knew what she had seen.
Pressing her palms flat against the mirror, she closed her eyes and whispered, "Miriam, I am here. I won't stop searching for you. I swear it."
The silence pressed around her, heavy and unyielding. Eleanor lingered a moment longer before lowering her hands. She took a step back, her resolve hardening. Whatever force was holding Miriam, it wouldn't win. She would find her — she had to.
As she turned to leave the cottage, a faint chill swept through the room. Eleanor paused, glancing back at the mirror, but it remained still, its surface reflecting only the empty space.
*****
The mirror's surface pulsed as if alive, reflecting a distorted version of the cottage. Miriam stood within, her ethereal form glowing faintly against the oppressive darkness. She pressed her hands to the glass, feeling its cold, unyielding barrier.
Her thoughts turned to Antonio, vivid memories playing like a slideshow in her mind. The warmth of their baby in her arms as Antonio's laughter rang out beside her. His whispered promises of forever. And then the searing pain of their final goodbye — his voice breaking as he begged her to stay, her heart shattering as her father dragged her away.
"I never stopped loving you," she whispered, tears forming in her eyes. "I tried to come back. I tried to make it right."
A sinister laugh echoed through the space, and Cornelius materialized behind her. His presence seemed to leech the light from the room, the shadows around him twisting unnaturally.
"Still clinging to that ridiculous sense of defiance, are we?" His voice dripped with venom. "You should have accepted your fate long ago, Miriam. Instead, you linger here like a ghostly parasite, clinging to a legacy that isn't yours."
Miriam turned to face him, her chin held high despite the weariness of her features. "You mean Trevor's legacy? The one you tried to steal when you murdered him? The one you couldn't touch because he outsmarted you, even in death?"
Cornelius' smirk faltered, his expression darkening. "Trevor was a fool. A sentimental fool who didn't understand the power this land holds. He squandered its potential, just as you do now."
"And yet, it's beyond your grasp," Miriam said. "Because he trusted me. He ensured you'd never get your claws into what was his."
Cornelius' form flickered, his anger visible. "You think you've won something? That staying here, tethered to this place, is some kind of victory? You've sacrificed everything — paradise, peace, your family — for what? To keep me out? You're a shadow, Miriam. A fading echo of a woman who should have stayed silent."
Miriam stepped closer, her eyes blazing with defiance. "I stayed because someone had to. Because you couldn't be allowed to desecrate what Trevor built. You've already taken too much."
"I've taken what was mine by right!" Cornelius snarled. The mirror trembled with his fury, ripples distorting its surface. "The vineyard should have been mine from the beginning. Trevor was weak, just like you. You were both so easy to destroy."
Miriam's voice dropped, cold and cutting. "You didn't destroy us. You murdered us. You tricked a town of frightened fools into hanging me, but you couldn't break my spirit then, and you won't now."
Cornelius's laugh was sharp, almost gleeful. "You think your spirit is unbroken? You've wasted your afterlife in this miserable prison. Meanwhile, I've grown stronger, feeding on the hatred and fear that this land breathes. And now, with Rebecca here, the pieces are finally falling into place."
Miriam's hands clenched into fists. "Rebecca will never fall for your lies, Cornelius. She's stronger than you think."
Cornelius stepped closer, his form looming over hers. "Strength? Don't delude yourself. She's just as naive as you were — ripe for manipulation. And once I claim this land, she'll have no choice but to surrender."
"You'll never claim it," Miriam hissed. "Not while I'm here."
Cornelius's expression twisted with rage. The mirror's surface darkened as he raised a hand. Shadows erupted from his palm, wrapping around Miriam like chains. "You think you can stop me?" he roared. "You're nothing! You're just a stubborn ghost clinging to a past you can't change!"
The chains tightened, but Miriam's voice rose above his. "And you're nothing but a coward, Cornelius. A bitter, pathetic coward who couldn't create anything worth keeping, so you steal from those who can."
Cornelius let out a furious snarl, his grip on the chains faltering. Miriam's light grew brighter, pushing back against the encroaching darkness. Her voice softened but lost none of its resolve. "You can rage and scheme all you want, but you'll never take this vineyard. Not from me. Not from Rebecca."
Cornelius staggered back, his form flickering as the glow around Miriam intensified. "You think this changes anything?" he spat, his voice trembling with fury. "You've delayed the inevitable, nothing more. I will find the boy. And when I do, even your precious Rebecca won't be able to save him."
Despite the slight dimming of Miriam's glow and her waning strength, she remained resolute, her unyielding gaze a testament to her determination. "You'll never find him. And even if you do, he'll see you for what you are — a monster," she declared, her voice unwavering.
Cornelius sneered, his form stabilizing. "We'll see, Miriam. We'll see." With that, he dissolved into the shadows, leaving Miriam alone in the mirror.
She staggered, her light flickering as exhaustion set in. But she forced herself to stand, her thoughts turning to Antonio. He was her last hope, the one connection she had left to the strength she needed.
"Antonio," she whispered, closing her eyes. "Please, I need you."
Eleanor - ghost detective
Jenna - Event planner, Eleanor's daughter, and falling in love with Donatelli
Garth Woodman - FBI Agent and widower (Allie)
Matthew Donatelli - Bayside's lead detective
John Doyle - Ex-judge and current inmate at Joliet State Prison
Vince Rossi - mob lawyer
Danni - jr. ghost detective working with Donatelli
Rebecca - new girl in town and Jenna's assistant
Miriam - a spirit from days gone by
Antonio - deceased grandfather of Rebecca and Miriam's first love
Trevor Cascio - deceased owner of the estate
Joseph DeLuca - detective
Cornelius Webb - deceased and responsible for hanging Miriam long ago
Grayson Webb - grand nephew of Cornelius
Jason DeLuca - retired detective
Frank DiVito - retired gangster-childhood friend of Garth
Sam -Frank's right hand man
Jack Lexington - Chicago kingpin
Tony "The Hawk" Romano - mobster
Salvatore "Sal" Ricci - consigliere of the New York mob family
Vito Greco - the mob boss
Zhang Wei - Chinese underworld
Pays
10 points
and 57 member cents. Jenna - Event planner, Eleanor's daughter, and falling in love with Donatelli
Garth Woodman - FBI Agent and widower (Allie)
Matthew Donatelli - Bayside's lead detective
John Doyle - Ex-judge and current inmate at Joliet State Prison
Vince Rossi - mob lawyer
Danni - jr. ghost detective working with Donatelli
Rebecca - new girl in town and Jenna's assistant
Miriam - a spirit from days gone by
Antonio - deceased grandfather of Rebecca and Miriam's first love
Trevor Cascio - deceased owner of the estate
Joseph DeLuca - detective
Cornelius Webb - deceased and responsible for hanging Miriam long ago
Grayson Webb - grand nephew of Cornelius
Jason DeLuca - retired detective
Frank DiVito - retired gangster-childhood friend of Garth
Sam -Frank's right hand man
Jack Lexington - Chicago kingpin
Tony "The Hawk" Romano - mobster
Salvatore "Sal" Ricci - consigliere of the New York mob family
Vito Greco - the mob boss
Zhang Wei - Chinese underworld
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