Excerpt - Shadows on the Night

The town of Arlin Point holds many dark secrets.  Some say that the dead don't die in Arlin Point...

They waited for maybe fifteen minutes before the door opened and a heavyset middle-aged man with unruly ash-gray hair stepped inside.  His face was very deeply lined and his complexion ruddy, which to Lissa indicated a drinking problem, apparently endemic among the Hastings.  Lissa referenced his face to the picture on the book jackets and noted that he had aged considerably.  He barely resembled the painting in the study.

Adam Hastings was not a handsome man, but he had an air about him that Lissa found intriguing.  He was a man with a lot below the surface -mysterious, secretive things one couldn't help but pick up on.  His gray eyes were filmy, adding to his esoteric appearance.

"Chief Mason?"  He was looking at Chet, a little surprised that he wasn't in uniform.  He didn't seem to notice Lissa at all.  "Is there some problem?"

"No, Mr. Hastings," Chet said, walking over to shake his hand, big and beefy and very smooth.  A pampered hand.  "Not what you're thinking.  Actually, I exaggerated my position to your maid to be sure we got to see you.  I'm retired now, so this is an unofficial visit.

“I'd like to introduce Mrs. Loeb."  He indicated Lissa, who smiled.

Hastings gave her a cursory nod of the head and returned his attention to Chet.

"Exactly what topic of importance has brought you to the bluff under pretense?" he asked.  He drifted over to a white wicker chair and sat.  The sunlight concentrated onto his face quickly started him perspiring.  "Something important, I presume, to interrupt your retirement."

Lissa was impressed with Adam Hastings, even though physically he was a worn and weary man.  He carried himself as one accustomed to the finest treatment would, and yet he did not demand such treatment, as did Georgie or even Mayor Norhill.  He was very natural in his query, yet demanding of an answer.

"Actually, Mr. Hastings, it's Mrs. Loeb who instigated this rather impromptu visit," Chet told him.  He found a matching chair nearly consumed by an overgrown palm plant and took a seat.  The palm shaded the chair from the sunlight so he was more comfortable than Adam.  "Her diligence has brought some disturbing facts to light, and we were hoping you might be able to offer some much needed assistance."

Hastings glanced over at Lissa, apparently considering her for the first time.  His expression was stoic and his eyes unrevealing, but Lissa felt herself growing nervous simply having him look at her.  She was standing beside Chet, palm fronds creeping over her shoulders.

"It involves Arlin Point, Mr. Hastings," she said as forcefully as she could, not wanting to come across as the weak woman in the company of two such confident men.  "Your sister was the one who recommended you to us.  I really hope you can help."

He continued his scrutiny of Lissa, nodding slightly but altering his expression not at all.  Then he lifted a hand and motioned toward a wicker lounge set between two enormous dieffenbachia and invited her to sit.

"You might as well be comfortable, Mrs. Loeb, if you're going to tackle a topic such as that," he said.

"Thank you," she said, sitting.  "I can't tell you how grateful we are for your time."

"Why not tell me what you know about Arlin Point?" he asked casually, fixing her with those murky gray eyes.  "And then we'll see if there's any way I can help you."

"Fair enough," Mason answered for her.  He could see how uncomfortable Hastings was making Lissa.  "Mrs. Loeb is a schoolteacher, and as a result of some inquiries she made in reference to a student we've come to suspect that there are goings-on in that town that bear some scrutiny.  Thus far we've been unable to shed any light on the matter, nor have we found anybody willing to assist us."

"Why not cut through the polite talk and tell me what you know," said Hastings flatly.  He was still staring at Lissa.  Apparently once somebody had his attention it was difficult to lose.

"Fine," Lissa responded.  She met his gaze and held it.  If he wanted facts, she would give him facts and he’d know she wasn’t intimidated.  If she could look Graf Van Ayl in the eye, then Adam Hastings certainly could not shake her.  "We know about Moira Hastings.  All about her."

Their eyes remained fixed on each other for some moments before Hastings shifted his attention back to Chet, who nodded to confirm the full implication of Lissa's statement.

"We know she was kidnapped in 1936," Lissa continued, "and we know what happened to her.  I've seen her, Mr. Hastings.  She's still alive, in Arlin Point.  She's the mother of my student, the boy who drew me there in the first place.  She's also the mother of your nephew Georgie."

Hastings nodded without expressing any emotion.  Lissa had expected some reaction and felt compelled to reiterate what she'd told him.

"She's the mother of Georgie Kendahl.  She lives in Arlin Point with an abusive and brutal husband.  I've seen her."

"So have I," Hastings said to her, which stunned her.

"You've seen Moira Milton?" she asked incredulously.  She and Mason exchanged glances.

"Yes.  And her husband.  And her neighbors.  And Graf Van Ayl and the rest of the town elders.  Are you familiar at all with my book?"

"Only that I saw it in a bookstore.  I haven't read it."

"You should have," Hastings said evenly.  "Your questions might have been answered much sooner.  My sister was correct to refer you to me.  I know everything about Arlin Point.  Everything."

He lapsed into silence, muted by his own words.  Chet and Lissa were looking at him expectantly, but he was elsewhere now.  His thoughts were in Arlin Point and it was reflected in the expression on his face; it held the slightest trace of terror.

The silence dragged on for several minutes before he was ready to speak again.  When he did, it seemed as if the weight of the world had suddenly dropped squarely onto his shoulders.  As somber as he had been, Lissa now saw a man overwhelmed by the knowledge he carried.  It was knowledge that he seemed to suspect would prove fatal to him one day.  Perhaps one day soon.

"I'm familiar with the nature of Arlin Point," he said tonelessly.  "It mirrors very closely something I encountered in Hastings Hollow a long time ago.  Something I've recently had a renewed acquaintance with.  What you suspect is a shadow of what's hidden in that town, Mrs. Loeb.  It's infinitely worse than you could ever imagine."

Lissa felt the color drain from her face.  Worse than she suspected.  How much worse could it possibly be?  She had been imagining hell on earth.

"What's going on up there, Adam?" Chet asked him.  He too had lost some color.

"Imagine a town that never dies.  Imagine people who never age, people who aren't really people anymore.  Imagine every manner of evil turned loose on the world, concentrated in one place.  That's what Arlin Point has become.  And it's not ten miles down the road."

The weight of his words hung so heavily in the room that Lissa felt her shoulders sag.  If her situation seemed hopeless before, it appeared even bleaker now.  Georgie had told her something that rang out in her head now like a foghorn - the dead don't die in Arlin Point.

"I suppose you're familiar with the history of the town," Adam went on, seeing that neither of his guests was prepared to speak.  "How, back in the autumn of 1698, the entire town was struck by a mysterious malady that within the course of three months killed every man, woman and child within the town limits.  There has never been an explanation for what struck Arlin Point back then, or for why it never spread to East Hastings.  I alone know what happened.  And now I'm going to tell you."

The implication of his words was that to know the truth carried a price.  Again Lissa saw Adam Hastings age before her eyes, as if merely to utter the words stole time away from him.  And he knew it; it was there in the gray haze of his eyes.

Adam Hastings spoke, with a voice that reached directly into the past.

c2004 Frank LoProto.  All rights reserved.