Chapter Twenty Eight
Mysterious Gift
Becca stared at the beautifully wrapped package that sat on the kitchen table, her pulse causing her head to spin. She knew that the gift hadn’t been there the night before. Where could it possibly have come from? Becca backed away from the table as if something dark and sinister sat staring at her, waiting to attack. Why was this simple thing causing her such anxiety? Her thoughts answered as she remembered the strange appearances of the defaced photos and the bank card. And the constant dream whispers had her on edge. She’d had another earlier that morning, but she couldn’t make her mind focus on what it had been about.
Becca spun around and trotted up the hall, stopping breathless by Chris’ bedroom. She gave the door a quick tap before opening it a crack. Then, she forced her way into the room, her heart beating faster. Chris wasn’t there!
Racing back to the kitchen, Becca attempted to ignore the mysterious gift as she searched for a note. Her mind jumped around like a frantic rabbit, attempting to remember the details of the day before. Had Chris told her he was going somewhere this morning? She quickly looked out the front door window. The silver truck sat in the driveway, the morning sun glinting off thousands of orbs of water left from last night’s storm. It hadn’t been touched.
On the verge of panic, Becca raced to the phone and dialed Chris’ cell. Music played in her ear seconds before a different tune sounded dolefully through the house. Chris’ phone sat on the coffee table in front of the couch. He never went anywhere without his cell phone.
The gift on the table drew her attention again. Maybe there was a note with it--perhaps Chris had set it there and was hiding somewhere, waiting to see her reaction when she opened it. Shakily, Becca walked to the table and sat down. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself before she lightly slid the present toward her. This was ridiculous. A gift should bring a person joy, not fear.
Becca stared at it for a minute as she forced herself to relax. The wrapping was beautiful; iridescent silver paper formed around a rectangle, the folds at the ends were crisp and neat. A single string of matching silver ribbon hugged the box, tied together at the top in a simple bow. Her fear aside, Becca almost hated to open it. It was too pretty.
Quickly, before she could give herself any more reasons to avoid opening it, Becca snatched the gift from the table, pulled the ribbon off, and tore the paper. A modest wooden box, void of markings of any kind, sat before her. She was no expert on wood working, but the box seemed to have been well crafted; even though it was simple, it radiated a certain beauty that caused her to trace the pads of her fingertips tenderly across the lid. The polished wood was smooth and cool to the touch.
Becca licked her lips and swallowed as she pressed her fingers at the front of the box, ready to open it. The lid pulled away from the base, forming a tiny crack. Blood rushed in her ears with the increase of her pulse; she had the strange sensation that she was about to open more than just a box. Slowly, Becca opened it a little further.
The blaring ring of the phone caused a strangled sound to escape Becca’s throat as she attempted to hold back a scream. Her hand jerked away from the box, causing the lid to snap back into place. Jumping to her feet, she tore the phone from the cradle that hung on the wall. “Chris? Is that you?” she asked without voicing a greeting.
“Hey, how did you know?” Relief flooded Becca at the sound of her brother’s voice.
“Where are you? You’ve had me worried half to death!”
“Sorry. I didn’t want to wake you, and I forgot to leave a note. Guess what?”
Becca sighed heavily, expending nervous energy. “What?”
“I’ve found a building to start my motorcycle shop in, and it’s fairly inexpensive. I felt like walking this morning, you know, like Mom and Dad used to like to do the morning after a storm, and just happened to find this place. We pass by it all the time, but I never paid attention to it before.” Chris rattled on about the building and his plans for renovation. The sounds of clanking dishes and the hum of conversation sounded in the background. He was at the diner.
When he finally took a breath, Becca asked, “Did you leave this gift on the table? What’s it for?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. What gift?”
The hairs on Becca’s neck prickled. If Chris hadn’t left it, then who did? Someone had been sneaking through their house while Chris was gone and she was sleeping!
Trying to control the shaking in her voice, Becca answered, “There was a gift on the table this morning. I thought you’d left it here.”
“Wasn’t me. It was probably one of your friends, though. I’ve been bumping into a few of them down here and they’re all eager to know how you’re doing. Someone probably dropped it off after I talked to them. They probably just didn’t want to wake you, either.”
Scolding herself for being crazy, Becca agreed that Chris’ explanation made sense. They finished their conversation and Becca hung up the phone. She sat in front of the box, ready again to open it, more curious now that fearful. She allowed her fingers to bask in the feel of the smooth wood for a few minutes. Who would’ve given her such a beautiful object? Better yet, where did they find it? When she found out who it was from, she’d have to give them a huge ‘thanks’ and ask where she could find another box like this one. She’d love to find something like this for Chris.
Becca continued to stroke the lid; the motion was calming, almost hypnotizing. The wood grain formed patterns that took shapes of various animals or objects. She found a wolf’s head, a heart, and a music note. Becca hummed absent-mindedly as she traced the shapes with her pointer finger. The melody escaping her lungs was vaguely familiar, as if from some dream. Images formed in her mind, almost taking shape in the wood underneath her touch. She traced out the name Kayde with her finger and then abruptly stopped. Why had she done that?
The euphoric mood she’d indulged in vanished like mist under the summer sun. She’d spelled out that name with her finger in a day dream-like way, like Kayde was someone…special.
A scream caught in Becca’s throat again at the sound of someone knocking on the door. She hopped out of her chair and scurried to the door, hoping whoever stood on the other side was the mysterious gift-giver. She could use a good reality-check!
The knob turned under Becca’s hand before the door burst open. Ryan and Toby shoved their way past her, carrying some equipment from Ryan’s house--some of his ghost hunting gear. Becca groaned and ran her fingers through her messy hair. “What is this, guys? I’m not in the mood to listen to pipes clanking or floor boards popping.”
Ryan looked up at her, completely baffled. His ruffled clothes and hair seemed normal enough, but the rings under his glossy, yet peculiarly excited eyes indicated he hadn’t slept much the night before. “What? Oh. No, Becca, none of that this time. We actually caught an entity last night!” His smile lit up the room.
Becca looked to Toby, but he was absorbed in hooking things up to Ryan’s laptop. He looked as sleep-deprived as Ryan.
“You really caught something on video? And what do you mean ‘we’?” Becca asked. Toby lifted his head and gave her a quick glance. “I thought Toby bailed.”
“I ended up at Ryan’s last night after I did some investigating at home,” he said. He continued to attach wires and play with the keys on the laptop.
Becca’s heart jumped to her throat. She’d remembered that Ryan had said that Toby was bailing on the ghost hunting, but she’d forgotten what Toby was planning to do the night before. The strange gift had completely distracted her. “Toby, what did you find out? Anything? Did your mom catch you?” She was at his side, gripping his arm with her good hand as worry took dominance over her emotions.
Toby gave her a half grin as he typed something on the computer. “We’ll get to that. But first, we need you
to see and hear this.”
“Really, I’m not that interested in ghosts right now. How can you find this more important that what you found out last night?” Becca felt the anger seeping in. Why were they playing around with this ghost stuff when something bigger, and possibly scarier, was happening?
Toby motioned for her to sit next to him on the couch. “Just come and take a look and listen. We feel this is important for you to see and hear.”
Becca sat tentatively next to her friend. “Why? What does this have to do with anything?”
“Becca,” Toby said, looking at her with a serious expression. “Ryan and I think this might help you remember something important. Or, I guess I should say, someone important. Before I tell you what I found last night, it would help a lot if you could remember some things.”
How could watching ghosts help her remember anything? The question sent goose bumps marching up her arms and down her spine. She looked to Ryan, hoping she’d see mischief in his eyes that would indicate this was a prank. His eyes were uncharacteristically serious.
Becca gulped. “O-Okay. I’ll bite.” A strange giggle escaped through her nose--a feeble attempt at sounding nonchalant. “Show me what you got.”