Mystery and Crime Fiction posted February 20, 2025 Chapters:  ...40 41 -42- 43... 


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Eleanor and Lenore
A chapter in the book Veil of Secrets

Veil of Secrets - Chap 42

by Begin Again



The night had settled over the forest, the whispering wind weaving through the trees as Eleanor stood beside Garth on the porch.

The sound of the cabin door creaking open behind them caught Eleanor's attention. A warm glow spilled from inside, and a voice drifted out. "I see we've another guest," Lenore stepped into the doorway. "I've already put the kettle on."

Eleanor turned, meeting the older woman's steady gaze. She had known Lenore was listening. How she looked at Eleanor now, studying her like a puzzle she had just started to understand, told her that she knew.

Without another word, Garth nodded once and stepped past Lenore, heading inside to check on Rebecca. Lenore moved aside for him, her gaze never leaving Eleanor's.

Eleanor arched a brow. "I take it you knew I was coming."

Lenore gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. "I knew someone was." She turned toward the small kitchen, moving with slow, deliberate grace as she reached for the waiting teapot. "The dog warned me."

Eleanor followed her inside, the warmth of the fire pressing against her skin. The scent of steeping tea filled the air, and Lenore gestured toward the table. "Sit."

Eleanor took her place, watching as Lenore poured the tea and then settled across from her. The fire crackled in the hearth, its glow flickering over the lines of Lenore's face.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Eleanor lifted her cup, letting the warmth seep into her fingers. "You don't seem surprised by me."

Lenore stirred her tea absently. "I've lived long enough to know there are things in this world that don't fit into the way most people see it." She finally met Eleanor's gaze. "And you, Eleanor, don't belong to this world."

Eleanor tilted her head slightly, but she didn't argue.

Lenore exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening around her cup. "I've been waiting," she murmured.

Eleanor's brow furrowed. "For what?"

Lenore hesitated, her lips pressing together. When she finally spoke, her voice was quieter. "To know what comes next."

Eleanor set her cup down carefully. Something in Lenore's tone sent a shiver through her — not from fear, but from the certainty behind it. "Lenore," she said carefully, "what have you seen?"

Lenore was silent for a long moment, staring into the tea as though she might find answers swirling in the steam. Then, finally, she said, "I don't know if it was a dream —  or something more." Her fingers trembled as she lifted her cup. "But I saw him."

Eleanor's breath caught. She straightened slightly. "Saw who?"

Lenore's gaze flicked to the fire, her expression darkening. "The man."

Eleanor's pulse quickened as she leaned forward. "Lenore, what man?"

Lenore's voice was barely a whisper. "The one who put the rope around Miriam's neck."

The fire crackled in the silence, casting shadows on the walls. Eleanor's grip on the table tightened. She forced herself to keep her expression neutral, but she could feel her pulse hammering in her throat. Her voice tightened. "Lenore," she urged, "Think! Was he really here?"

Lenore's fingers trembled against her cup. "I —  I don't know." She exhaled, shaking her head. "It felt real like he was watching me. But when I turned, he was gone." Her voice faltered. "Maybe — maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me."

Eleanor remained unconvinced. She leaned forward, her voice firm but calm. "No, if you saw him — if you felt him — then you are in danger."

Lenore met her eyes again, something flickering in the depths of her gaze — uncertainty, doubt, and recognition. Deep down, she knew Eleanor was right. She just wasn't ready to admit it yet.
 

Eleanor sat back slowly, watching her. She could push harder and tell Lenore that it wasn't safe here and that whatever had been watching her would return. But she believed Lenore had to come to that realization herself.

Instead, Eleanor lifted her cup and took a slow sip of tea, waiting. "Lenore, how did you see the rope around Miriam's neck? Was that a dream?"

"No, I was there as a small child." Lenore's fingers brushed across the cross hidden beneath the bodice of her dress. "She spoke to me."

"Miriam spoke to you on her wedding day?"

"Yes, and she gave me this." She lifted the cross from beneath the fabric and held it with her fingers. "The spirits have spoken to me many times, but I never knew what they meant."

"Do you know that Miriam's spirit is trapped by the man you saw?"

"Trapped? I don't understand," Lenore's voice trembled with confusion, her mind struggling to grasp the gravity of the situation.

"The man you saw is Cornelius, and his spirit is restless. He has a dark side that feels the destiny he perceived was stolen from him — he believes that Miriam's spirit prevented his family from possessing the Vineyard. He's using Miriam to get to Rebecca, Miriam's granddaughter."

Lenore nodded and then gazed into the fire. "Now the visions and whispers are much clearer. It's Miriam calling to me." She gasped as if something had touched her, spinning her head toward Eleanor. "Rebecca and the girl are not safe here."

"Neither are you."

"Me? I am an old woman who has lived in this cottage alone for many years. I am safe."

"No, Lenore. If Cornelius came, he fears you have some power connected to Miriam, which will prevent him from achieving his goals. He will not stop until he destroys you."

Lenore stared at her hands, saying nothing for a long time. "I didn't understand, or maybe I just didn't want to believe it, but I think Miriam is calling me."

Eleanor reached out and touched the woman's hand. "She needs you, Lenore. I, too, believe you are the answer to her release from the mirror."

The fire had burned low, casting flickering shadows along the wooden walls. Eleanor and Lenore sat in silence, their conversation lingering in the air. Lenore's fingers remained curled around the cross at her chest, her expression unreadable as she stared into the flames.

The cabin door creaked open. Garth stepped inside, rubbing a hand over his face, his expression tired. "Tango and the EMTs will be here in the morning," he said, his voice breaking the silence. His gaze flicked between them, lingering on Lenore. "We'll head to the vineyard at first light."

Lenore didn't respond at first. She set her teacup down and rose slowly, her movements unhurried. She turned toward the small hallway leading to her room. For a moment, it seemed like she might leave the question hanging — whether she would go with them or not — but then she paused, glancing back over her shoulder. Her eyes met Eleanor's, and something flickered in them, something both resigned and knowing. "In the morning," Lenore said softly, her voice carrying an edge of finality, "things will change."

She said nothing more, disappearing into the shadows of the hallway, the faint sound of a door closing behind her.

Eleanor exhaled, her fingers drumming lightly against the wooden table. "She didn't say she'd go," Garth muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"She didn't say she wouldn't," Eleanor replied, watching the hallway where Lenore had gone.

Garth sighed, glancing toward the door. "Might as well get some rest while we can." He gave Eleanor a look. "I never asked, but do you ever sleep?"

She smirked faintly but didn't answer.

Outside, the wind shifted, a whisper against the cabin walls.
 
*****

The first light of dawn stretched across the clearing like golden fingers. Birds chirped in the distance, and the morning air was crisp.

Inside the cabin, the scent of fresh bread and tea filled the air. Amelia stirred awake. She blinked sleepily, stretching her small arms before remembering what she'd overheard last night. They were leaving.

Her heart clenched. Scrambling from the bed, she dashed from the room, her bare feet pattering across the wooden floor. She skidded to a stop as she saw Lenore emerging from her room, already dressed, her old shawl draped over her shoulders.

The child's breath hitched, and in an instant, she was wrapping her arms around her grandmother's waist, burying her face in the fabric of her skirt. "No, Grammy," Amelia whimpered. "Don't make me leave."

Lenore stiffened slightly, surprised by the force of the embrace. Slowly, her hands came to rest on the girl's back. For a moment, she said nothing.
Then, she knelt, gently cupping Amelia's tear-streaked face in her hands. She searched the child's wide, pleading eyes — the same eyes that had looked at her with love, the same love Lenore had longed for her entire life but had never truly known.

Something in her softened. She brushed her fingers over Amelia's damp cheek, catching a stray tear with the pad of her thumb. "Okay, little one," Lenore murmured, her voice warm but steady. "I will come with you."

Amelia sniffled, her eyes filled with doubt. "Promise?"

Lenore smiled faintly, smoothing back the girl's curls. "I promise." She lifted her gaze and met Eleanor's eyes. "I owe it to Miriam."

Eleanor nodded, a knowing look passing between them. Without another word, Lenore stood, adjusting her shawl and her quiet acceptance of her fate.
 
*****

Outside, the faint rumble of engines signaled that Tango and the EMTs were drawing closer, but everything was unnervingly still inside.

Amelia, determined to be helpful, pulled away from Lenore's grasp. "I'll get your satchel, Grammy!" she chirped, her feet padding across the wooden floor as she darted toward Lenore's bedroom.

Lenore barely had time to turn before a piercing scream shattered the fragile silence.

The sound sent an immediate chill up Eleanor's spine. Garth was already moving, his gun half-drawn as Lenore's breath caught in her throat.

Amelia came running back into the main room, her tiny frame trembling, her eyes wide with terror. Sobbing, she threw herself into Lenore's arms. "There's a man in your room!" she cried.

Lenore stiffened, instinctively pulling Amelia close, her heartbeat thudding against her ribs.

Eleanor was already moving. She strode toward the bedroom, her fingers tingling with energy, the air around her growing unnaturally cold.

The door was open. But the room inside was empty. And yet, she knew he'd been here.

Garth ran his fingers across Lenore's mirror in the corner. A whisper of movement flickered across its surface like a shadow passing behind glass. He turned to Eleanor, questioning what he saw. Before he asked, she answered, "I know."

A single low chuckle echoed through the room. A sound that didn't belong to the living. Eleanor's spine went rigid. She knew that voice.

A slow, deliberate scratch dragged down the mirror's surface, like fingernails on glass. A whisper, laced with mockery and malice, slithered through the air. "Leaving so soon?"

The mirror cracked — a long, jagged line splitting across the glass.

Garth stared at Eleanor and took three long strides toward the door. "Come on, we've got to get everyone out of here."

Eleanor turned on her heel and strode back into the main room, shutting the door hard behind her.

Lenore was rocking Amelia, whispering reassurances, but her face was pale, and her hands gripped the child tightly.

Eleanor locked eyes with her. "Now, do you believe me?"

Lenore swallowed hard, then nodded. She wasn't safe here anymore, and neither were they. Lenore lifted her chin, brushing away Amelia's tears, and whispered, "It's time to go." She took a slow, steadying breath, holding Amelia close as the child trembled against her.

The girl's small fingers curled into her shawl, seeking comfort, but Lenore's grip was firm — not for her own security, but for Amelia's.

The child had seen him. And Lenore had felt him. This place, the only home she had known, was no longer safe.

Garth moved first, yanking the cabin door open. Tango was already stepping out of the lead SUV, his expression alert, scanning the area as if expecting trouble. His eyes flicked to Garth. "What's going on?"

Garth hesitated for half a second before striding down the porch steps. His movements were brisk, his tone clipped. "We need to move. Now."

Tango's sharp gaze narrowed as he caught the urgency in Garth's voice. "That bad?"

Garth's jaw tightened. "Worse."

Tango didn't ask another question. He turned back to his men and motioned for the EMTs to start loading Rebecca into the vehicle. His instincts told him something was off, but Garth's look in his eyes said, "Don't ask; just trust me."

Eleanor lingered near Lenore, watching as the older woman took one last glance at the cabin.

The old wooden walls had kept her safe for so long. Now, they felt like a cage — a trap where something dark still lingered. Lenore reached for the cabin door, her fingers resting against the weathered wood. She exhaled softly and murmured loud enough for Eleanor to hear, "I don't scare that easy."

She closed the door behind her, the latch clicking into place with finality. She squared her shoulders, looking ahead. It was time to fight back.

Eleanor gave a small, approving nod.

The wolf-dog stood at Lenore's feet, muscles tense, ears twitching as if listening for something just beyond the trees.

Garth gave Tango a firm nod. "We don't have time to waste. Let's go."

Tango didn't argue. He turned to his men and signaled them to move.
The wolf-dog hesitated, head tilting toward the trees before finally leaping into the vehicle beside Lenore.

Eleanor climbed in after them, closing the door. Lenore let out a slow breath, but Eleanor wasn't ready to relax just yet.

Something prickled at the back of her mind, a familiar chill tightening around her senses. She turned her head just as the last vehicle rolled forward.
And that was when she saw him.

Cornelius stood at the edge of the trees. His face was unreadable, his hollow eyes locked onto the departing vehicles. He did not move. He did not chase them. But the cruel smirk on his lips made it clear. He had let them go — for now.

A whisper of wind curled through the trees, carrying something only Eleanor could hear — "Run while you can."

Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone. The forest swallowed him whole.

Eleanor exhaled, forcing her hands to relax where they had tightened into fists. The wolf-dog let out a low whine, pressing against Lenore's leg, his golden eyes still locked on the window. Eleanor reached over, running a calming hand over his thick fur. She understood.

Cornelius wasn't just watching.

He was waiting.

And she didn't like what that meant.

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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
Vince Rossi - mobster and Doyle's cellmate and escaped prisoner
Althea Webb Cascio - mother to Travis and half-sister to Rebecca
Travis – Althea’s kidnapped son
Amelia - girl in the caves
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
Danny Veraci -a dear friend from the past and casino owner
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