Mystery and Crime Fiction posted February 9, 2025 Chapters:  ...30 31 -32- 33... 


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Lenore and Rebecca
A chapter in the book Veil of Secrets

Veil of Secrets - Chap 32

by Begin Again


The storm had passed, but the tension was suffocating inside the cottage — but the worst was yet to come.

Rebecca lay still, her skin clammy and pale, her breath coming too fast, too shallow.
Travis paced near the hearth, his hands clenched into fists. "She's burning up," he muttered. "We need to do something."

Lenore, kneeling beside Rebecca, pressed a cool cloth to her forehead. "I am doing something."

Travis exhaled sharply. "You know what I mean," he snapped. "This isn't — this isn't normal. Her fever — it's not just from exhaustion." His voice cracked as his thoughts reminded him he was only a child. "Is she —" He swallowed hard. "She could die."

Lenore didn't argue. Instead, she gently placed her hands over Rebecca's chest, her fingers moving slowly and in circular motions. A soft hum filled the air, barely audible, a whisper of something ancient.

Travis stiffened. "What are you doing?"

Lenore's voice was calm, unwavering. "Listening."

Rebecca stirred, her lips parting. She muttered something too soft to hear.

Travis leaned forward.

Rebecca's lashes fluttered, and her lips trembled. Her inner spirit was calling for someone, but she didn't call for Garth this time.

Barely a whisper, she called, "Miriam."

Travis froze. His stomach clenched. Miriam was the woman who had saved him from the kidnappers.

Lenore's eyes flickered up to meet his. She had heard it, too.

Travis swallowed hard, voice tight. "She's calling for Miriam."

Lenore nodded slowly. "Yes."

Rebecca twitched as if trying to fight through whatever fever dream held her. Her breathing hitched.

A cold shiver ran down Travis's spine.

Lenore took a slow breath. "She is connected to this Miriam? As I sense you are."

Travis ran a hand through his hair. "Miriam saved my life. She lives at The Vineyard, where the men took me. They brought Rebecca to the tunnels, too. That's where I met her and Amelia." He glanced toward the young girl, asleep in the corner amidst a stack of pillows.

Lenore's hands trembled as she pressed a damp cloth to Rebecca's forehead. "The Vineyard?" The old woman's gaze was glassy as her mind raced, digging through memories she'd buried long ago.

Travis paced, his frustration barely contained. "This isn't working! She's getting worse." His voice was tinged with desperation and his fear for Rebecca's life.

Lenore barely heard him. Her fingers brushed over Rebecca's wrist, and something cold slipped through her — something from long ago.

The wedding.

The townspeople.
.
The sound of screaming.

Lenore's breath hitched as she was transported back in time, her memories rushing back.

She was young — just a little girl, standing behind the crowd, clutching her mother's skirts. Miriam stood on the platform in her wedding dress, a noose tight around her throat, her dark eyes burning with something fierce — not fear or hatred, but a deep sense of defiance.

Lenore could still hear her mother whispering, telling her not to watch. But she had.
 
She had seen Miriam's eyes searching the crowd. Had Miriam looked for help? For mercy? Or had she been looking for someone to remember?

Lenore's chest ached as she struggled to maintain her composure, the image of Miriam's defiance still vivid. Rebecca's fevered and restless face blurred before her.

Travis's voice cut through the haze. "Lenore?"

She exhaled sharply, blinking hard. "I was there," she whispered.

Travis frowned. "What?"

Lenore met his gaze, her voice steady despite the old pain curling in her chest. "I saw Miriam die."

Travis stiffened. "Now?"

"No — long ago when I was a child."

"When you were a child? That can't be. Miriam just saved my life."

Rebecca stirred, her lips moving faintly. Lenore's fingers tightened around the cloth.
"She was looking for someone," she murmured. "And maybe — she's still waiting." She stood and wrapped her shawl around her.

"Where are you going?"

"To pray and listen," she whispered as she opened the door with the wolf-dog at her side.

*****
The cottage door closed behind Lenore with a quiet click, shutting out the warmth of the fire and the voices inside.

Outside, the air was still thick with the scent of rain. Water dripped from the eaves, the trees whispering as a cool wind moved through their branches.

The wolf-dog waited at her side, his body low, ears twitching as if he, too, could sense something beyond what the eye could see.

Lenore took a slow breath and stepped forward, her feet knowing the path even as her mind wrestled with what she sought.

She walked past the wild grass that had overtaken the old garden, beyond the worn footpath leading toward the cliffs. The land here had history—some of it whispered in the wind, some buried beneath the soil, and some still clinging to the echoes of what had once been.

She reached the old fire pit near the clearing. It was not much now, just a blackened ring of stones half-buried in the earth. Long ago, it was a place where people whispered prayers and released their burdens into the night around the fire,

Lenore stood at its edge, pressing a hand against her shawl, gathering it around her shoulders as the wind curled around her.

She did not kneel. She did not bow her head. She simply closed her eyes. And listened.

A whisper of air moved through the trees, carrying something just beneath the wind, a murmur of voices, long since faded, yet never truly gone.

Lenore let out a slow exhale. "I am listening," she murmured.

The wolf-dog's ears flicked. Then, a deep, mournful howl escaped his chest and the whispering began.

Lenore did not move. She stood at the edge of the fire pit, her breath slow and steady, waiting. She had done this before, when she was younger with her mother, when she was listening, not speaking. Now she knew what she didn't know then — that Miriam, too, had been there.

A breeze stirred the trees.

The murmur of voices was distant yet close enough to brush against her skin like the breath of an unseen presence. She did not flinch.

These were not the wailing voices of the restless dead. They were remnants, echoes of those who had walked this land before her. These were the voices of the good and those who fought for the land.

"She walks between," the voices murmured, threading into the wind.

Lenore's breath hitched. Did they mean Rebecca?

"The past pulls her, the present binds her, and the future is waiting."

Lenore swallowed, closing her fingers over the edge of her shawl. "Miriam," she whispered.

A gust of wind curled through the trees, shifting the embers of something unseen.

"She was wronged. She was betrayed. The earth remembers her suffering, and so does she."

Lenore exhaled slowly. "Then why does she linger?"

The night was silent.

Then — a presence — not a figure, not an apparition, but something heavier in the air, something that pressed against her bones, something she had felt once before, long ago, when she was a child.

"Because she still fights."

Lenore closed her eyes, and for the briefest moment, the world around her shifted.
It wasn't a vision — it was a knowing.

Miriam stood before the mirror, her palm pressed against the glass, her reflection staring back. Her lips moved, though no words reached the living. A sorrow so deep had rooted itself into the very land.

Then, Rebecca, trembling, whispered her name in fevered delirium.

Lenore's eyes snapped open. The connection was clear. "Miriam is holding her," she whispered. The air seemed to tighten around her. The wolf-dog let out a low growl, not in fear, but in warning.

"She does not mean to," the voices answered, soft as drifting leaves. "But her love binds the girl to the threshold. She calls her, not knowing she is keeping her between."

Lenore's throat tightened. "Then how do I break the hold?"

A beat of silence. Then — a whisper, barely audible but absolute. "She must choose. To hold on or to let go."

The wolf-dog let out another deep, resonant howl. The night pulsed with something unseen. And Lenore understood. The voices had faded.

She stood still, her hands clenched at her sides, the weight of realization pressing deep into her chest. She knew now. She knew why Rebecca had not woken fully. She knew why Miriam lingered. And she knew what she had to do.

The wolf-dog let out a final, quiet huff, pressing its side gently against her leg.
Lenore closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. "I understand," she whispered.

Her voice did not shake. "I'm no longer a child, and I won't fail you this time."

She turned back toward the cottage.

Toward Rebecca.

Toward the choice that had to be made.
 
*****

Rebecca's feverish body lay still, almost lifeless, on the bed, but her spirit was no longer there. Lenore stroked her hand and placed cool compresses on her forehead. Like others who walked this world unseen, Rebecca's spirit was somewhere cold. Somewhere dark — a field, perhaps. Near the cliffs.
 
She turned slowly. Miriam stood at the edge of the clearing, her dress torn, her bare feet muddy. Rebecca's breath hitched. "Grandma?"

Miriam lifted her head, her dark eyes filled with something unreadable. "You are too close," she whispered. "You must go back, my love."

Rebecca tried to step forward, but her limbs felt heavy as if she were moving through water.

Miriam shook her head. "It is not your time."

Rebecca opened her mouth to speak, but a wind howled through the trees, drowning out her voice. Miriam looked past her as if watching something approaching. Her lips parted. Was it fear? A warning?

Rebecca felt herself being pulled away. Miriam's form blurred, her voice distant,
"Tell Lenore—"

Darkness claimed her, and her spirit returned.
________________________________________

Rebecca gasped, bolting upright.

Lenore's hands were already on her, steadying her, keeping her grounded.
"You are back," Lenore murmured.

Rebecca's head swam. Her skin was damp with sweat, her body weak, but the fever had eased. Her voice was hoarse. "Grandma—" She swallowed hard. "She was here."

Lenore's jaw tightened.

Rebecca grabbed Lenore's wrist suddenly, her fingers trembling. "She said to tell you something."

Lenore stilled. Rebecca's breath hitched. "She said, "Tell Lenore." Rebecca blinked, disoriented. "Then, she was gone."

Travis swore under his breath. "She's not making sense. She's getting worse."

Lenore's hand pressed gently against Rebecca's forehead, this time not to check for fever but to anchor her in the present. "You are here, child," she whispered, her voice steady. "You must stay with us."

Rebecca blinked, her chest rising and falling with effort. Lenore held her gaze.
"You heard Miriam's words. Now listen to them."

Rebecca swallowed. "She told me to go back."

Lenore nodded. "Then do as she said."

Rebecca exhaled sharply, the weight in her chest lifting, her body sinking into the pillows.

Lenore sat beside her, studying the girl's pale face. Her fragile fingers were still curled in the bedsheets.

Miriam had tried to warn her.

To reach her.

To tell her something.

Travis felt the frustration boiling inside him. They couldn't just sit here.
"She's not getting better," he said suddenly, his voice sharper than he intended. "What if it happens again? What if she—" His voice caught. He couldn't finish the thought.

Lenore met his gaze, her expression calm but firm. "I won't let it."

Travis looked at Rebecca — pale, exhausted, barely holding onto consciousness. And then at Amelia, curled up in the corner, her small body trembling in restless sleep.
Lenore wasn't enough. They needed real help.

"I'm going," Travis said, reaching for his jacket.

Lenore's expression flickered. "It's dangerous."

Travis shoved his arms through the sleeves. "It was dangerous when those men took us, too."

Lenore didn't stop him. She couldn't because he was right.

Rebecca slumped back onto the thin blanket beneath her, exhaustion dragging at her limbs. The fever had not fully broken, but the fire raging inside her had dimmed. She had delivered the message. Miriam was still there. Trapped. Waiting.

Not for much longer.

A gust of wind rattled the shutters, and Travis flinched. He had been silent until now, but the weight of the moment pressed on him. Rebecca still needed help.

Lenore turned to him, her gaze sharp. "You must go now."

Travis's stomach knotted. Go?

"You want me to leave you here? With—" He gestured vaguely at Rebecca, still fevered, and the strange old woman whose very presence unsettled him. "What if something happens?"

Lenore's voice was calm, but unshakable. "Then I will do what must be done."

Travis swallowed hard. He had no choice. His gaze flickered to Amelia, the quiet girl who had clung to Rebecca since they found her. "You're coming with me, right?"

A long silence.

Amelia looked at him, then at Lenore. Something deep and unspoken passed between them. The girl took a small step back. "I'll stay," she whispered.

Travis stared at her. A lump formed in his throat. It didn't make sense. Why would she stay? How could she trust Lenore?

His hands curled into fists. He wanted to argue, but there was no time. With one last glance at Rebecca, he took a shaky breath and turned toward the door.

Lenore watched Travis hesitate in the doorway, his shoulders rigid, fists clenched at his sides. He didn't want to leave, not without Rebecca and Amelia.

She stepped closer, her voice low and even. "You must go to the Vineyard."

Travis turned, his brow furrowing. "Which way?" he demanded, frustration laced in his voice. "I don't even know where we are."

Lenore's lips pressed together in thought. Then, she crouched beside the wolf-dog, placing a weathered hand against its massive head.

The animal stilled. Its deep, golden eyes locked onto hers as if listening.

Travis's stomach twisted. Something about how she did it —so sure, so steady —made his skin prickle.

Lenore leaned in and whispered something against the wolf-dog's fur. The words were too soft for Travis to hear, too fleeting to make sense of.

When she pulled back, the wolf-dog let out a low huff —not quite a growl, not quite a sigh.

"He will take you," Lenore said, standing. "Follow him, and you will find your way."

Travis narrowed his eyes. "What the hell do you mean, follow him? He's a dog."

Lenore held his gaze, unflinching. "And yet, he knows more than most men."

A chill ran down Travis's spine. He didn't like this, and he didn't trust it, but Rebecca needed help, and he had no other choice. Still, he hesitated, glancing one last time at Amelia.

"You're sure?" he asked her. "You wanna stay?"

The girl nodded, stepping closer to Lenore's side.

Travis swallowed hard, pushing down the unease clawing at his chest. "Fine," he muttered. He turned toward the door. The wolf-dog trotted ahead, pausing only once to look back, as if waiting.

Travis squared his shoulders and followed him into the night.

Lenore watched them go. Then, at last, she turned back to Rebecca. She reached out, brushing damp hair from the girl's forehead, her hand steady now.

For the first time, she understood. Miriam had been preparing her for this moment her whole life. Lenore pressed her palm lightly against Rebecca's skin, her voice barely a whisper. "It's time."

And this time, she would not fail.

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Recognized


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
Smugglers from New York
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