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Chapter 31: The Trip to Grove

The night was long and hard for Nikola: she tossed and turned on Alex's lumpy fold-out couch, very aware of him on the floor beside her. Lines from the reports she had read floated through her mind, along with images of being watched. The unseen forces around her grew more ominous in the dark, New York city seemed infested with them. As close as a few feet away, and the Intruder was probably outside. She knew she had no choice but to trust Alex, but she was not sure where he would take her. Too many questions and no answers.

By morning, Nikola was anxious to get the trip underway: sick of uncertainly, she wanted to face her fate, whatever that might be. They left Alex's apartment at seven, grabbed a fast-food breakfast for the road, and started the drive to Grove. The sun was shining, and the temperature comfortable, Nikola thought it deceptively pleasant.

The drive took them just over two hours. Grove appeared to be a quaint tourist town. It had one main street with five blocks of stores and restaurants, as well as the Post Office from which the letters had originated. On either side of the shops, mostly along the same main road, were residential areas, followed by an occasional farm or vineyard. Beyond that, the overall area was heavily wooded, slightly hilly, and very scenic.

As soon as they drove into town, Nikola could see immediately that life here proceeded at a different pace than in the city. Even though the two were not very far apart in distance, they seemed like different worlds.

Alex slowly turned onto Fair Park Avenue, the main street into, out of, and through, the town. While they were driving, she noticed that there seemed to be two distinctive neighborhoods around the town with very different characteristics lying to the east and west of the town's center. Alex turned towards the west, suggesting that they first drive through the populated areas around town, and then decide where to stop.

The area immediately to the west of the town looked almost suburban, with small similar houses fairly close together. As they drove further west, the view became increasingly rural. Within two miles of the center of town, the area they drove through consisted of alternating woods and farmland. Nikola stared out of the passenger side window at the landscape and nondescript structures, wondering what she hoped to find here. She could not imagine Martha, Alan, or any of her other gallery-related acquaintances here. The Intruder fit in even less. After a while, Alex turned around and headed back through town and into the eastern neighborhoods.

It was like a different world. This was obviously the affluent side of town. The houses were noticeably larger and set farther back from the street. The architecture was more varied, with gables, balconies, and wrap-around porches. While the houses she had seen before were all one or two stories, most of these were at least three. The plots also got steadily larger as they drove further away from the town center, until the whole sense of blocks disappeared because there were hardly any side streets to form them.

The properties became more and more like estates as they drove on, and finally the true estates began a few miles from town. Nikola saw plots ranging from several to many acres, each sporting a large expanse of carefully manicured lawn, often surrounded by large fences with gates supporting a family name. Sprinkled amongst the estates were country clubs and resorts. Huge hotels with large grounds, swimming pools and tennis courts, often including a golf course.

While Nikola watched the estates slowly promenade by, she wondered what it would be like to live in such a setting. For most of her life she had lived in cities, limited by financial constraints to small apartments. Space was a very valuable commodity to her and the abundance of it evident here impressed her. The profusion of wealth was also obvious. While she had finally succeeded, after a long and difficult struggle, in supporting herself through her art, money was still a constant concern for her. Wouldn't it be nice not to have to worry about it? She could concentrate all of her energy into her art...

Even while she fantasized about living in one of these mansions, free from monetary concerns, however something disturbed her about the picture. The mansions were too perfect, too manicured, too sterile. They seemed to be hiding something. She felt more comfortable in the middle class neighborhoods, where the houses expressed evidence of the people living there: children's toys and bicycles strewn across the yard, retired couples sitting on their front porches watching traffic, grass a bit overgrown. It seemed so much more real.

The road curved to the left, and Nikola's view of the next property was blocked by the stone wall surrounding it. Behind and above the wall was a solid mass of trees, as if the wall enclosed a forest rather than one of the wide open estates that were typical for the area. Alex slowed the car as they passed a break in the wall and trees, where a massive, old fashioned, wrought-iron gate stood open to reveal a long driveway. The driveway curved over a huge expanse of manicured lawn and ended in front of a large white house. Nikola stared at the lawn, the house, and the driveway, not believing what she saw. Here stood the house from her dreams. The house and the grounds that provided the backdrop for the fires and chase scenes, and the path to her secret place.

She stared, too shocked to move or speak. Her heart raced and she could hardly breathe. Alex drove completely by the gate before she could gather enough control of her vocal chords to utter a sound. She wasn't sure she wanted these dreams to come to life, and yet they had. She had no choice anymore but to face them.

"Stop," she whispered into the window, now facing the stone wall and trees again.

Alex looked over to her and asked, "Did you say something?"

"Stop the car. Please," she said, this time with her full voice. She turned and faced him. She needed him now more than ever. She hoped her trust had not been misplaced. "That house. It's familiar. It's the one from my dreams. From my nightmares. I must see it again."

"From your dreams? Are you sure?"

"No, not entirely... Let me see it again."

"No problem," Alex put the car in reverse and backed up.

Part of her thought she must be dreaming because it seemed impossible that a house out of her nightmares could materialize like this one had. With the Intruder, it had been easy to explain, but a house doesn't move around and somehow get into your subconscious. Another part of her insisted that it wasn't possible, that the house she had seen in passing was just another large white house, and that the resemblance was in her mind. But when Alex backed up to a position blocking the driveway, in full view of the house and grounds, Nikola found herself looking at her nightmares materialized. Little details were different, like the landscaping of the yard and the paint on the house, but it was unmistakably the same estate. The curved driveway, the lawn surrounded by woods, and the huge balcony were all the same.

"That's it. That's definitely it. It's uncanny. It matches my dreams completely." She sat and stared at it for a few moments before continuing, "This is amazing. I can't believe it. What do you think this means? Could I have actually locked into a lost memory?"

"What are you talking about?"

Nikola looked over to Alex and was immediately drawn back to the present and the reality of her turbulent relationship with him. "I wasn't totally honest with you before. I was seven when I got to the orphanage. I told you I was very young, which isn't really a lie, but it hid the fact that I didn't have memories where most people do. I can't remember anything before the orphanage and I've always been searching. That's what I meant by a lost memory."

"Wow. Why didn't you tell me? That changes the situation dramatically."

"Don't you dare say that to me! This is something very personal and before we even got close enough to that kind of sharing, I found out that you are the king of deceit."

"I was just doing my job then. That was different." Alex looked away into the windshield and then back at Nikola. "I really am trying to help you now, and I can't do it right if you don't tell me things. You've got to forgive a little."

"I've forgiven a lot. After all, I'm here with you now. Don't push it."

"Okay, okay, I guess I deserve a bit of abuse. But we've got a new problem on our hands, and it seems like a whole lot of clues to, so let's get on with this. The name on the gates is Carlson. Does that mean anything to you?"

Nikola took one last look at Alex, and then turned back to the house. "No. Sounds like an English name."

"I was thinking American. But, whoever they are, they could have bought the house recently - or at least some time since you've last seen it. But, I must say, those gates look awfully old."

"I've always assumed that my background was completely German. I was raised there, and, physically, I've always thought I looked German... I don't know. I wonder if I lived here once."

"Quite possibly."

"It's hard to believe, but there it is. Solid and real." Nikola paused and stared at the house for a few moments. She felt lost and rootless, as if she was floating somewhere apart from reality, looking in, as if this was another dream. "I'll bet the note came from here. From this house. They must hate me here. I wonder why?"

"It wasn't necessarily from this house. All we know is that the postmark was from this town. There are a lot of other houses here. Not to mention..."

"No. It was from this house. It had to be. It's the only thing I recognize."

"But that could mean that you grew up in this town. You said your memories stopped at age seven, right?" Nikola nodded. "That means you probably went to school in this town. No doubt you made enemies and friends in school. I'm sure lots of people in this town knew you. It could be a crank from an old school friend."

"I suppose. But I don't remember any school before the convent."

"You don't remember growing up here either. Just because you don't have nightmares about school doesn't mean you didn't go."

"School is certainly possible, but I don't know about your note theory. Why would someone torment a childhood friend after so long? How would they even find me?"

"Don't you realize that as an artist you're a public figure? That's where I started. You're not exactly a huge celebrity, but there are a few articles listed for you in the library, and if someone wanted to know where you're next exhibition was, it wouldn't be too hard. I'll admit it's unlikely - I was just trying to give examples of other possibilities. But, we'll never find out anything if we don't go inside."

Nikola shivered. Although it was warm outside, inside she was cold. She wasn't sure if it was from Alex's cavalier reference to his investigation of her or the presence of the house. "How could we get inside?"

"We'll do our writer bit. A history of the area. We can ask about former owners, history of the house, that sort of thing. I think that this is the clue we've been waiting for."

"What if they see through our charade?"

"Don't worry about it, they never do. I'll do all the talking."

"All right. I'll do it. I suppose I have to go in now."

Alex turned the car around and pulled up the driveway. As they got closer to the house, Nikola's dread increased. She found herself fighting the urge to jump out of the car and run in the opposite direction. Nikola fought those instincts while Alex stopped in front of the house and got out of the car. He walked around and opened her door for her, but Nikola just sat and stared at the house for a few moments before she could get up the courage to get out of the car and approach the imposing structure. Once she did, she hoped that her movement was graceful and did not betray the struggle it required. They walked up to the massive front entrance and faced a set of double doors. After a bit of searching, they found the doorbell and rang it.

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