Still he said nothing. I wondered if he was thinking, as I was, about another homicide victim discovered in that same cemetery fifteen years ago. He’d been questioned by the police in Afton Delacourt’s murder and, according to Temple, had been dismissed from Emerson because of certain rumors connected to that crime.
Even knowing all that, I wasn’t apprehensive about being alone with him, perhaps because our friendship preceded my knowledge of the murder. I’d had time to form an opinion before it could be tainted by past events, and so my initial impression of a refined, somewhat eccentric gentlemanly scholar hadn’t changed. I simply couldn’t imagine Rupert Shaw involved in murder, let alone a slaying as brutal as Devlin had implied.
His blue eyes continued to regard me thoughtfully.
With an effort, I reined in my scattered thoughts and focused. “Two days ago, I saw something at Oak Grove I can’t explain. I was walking alone on the path to the gates just before dusk when I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye. It was like a silhouette or a shadow hovering at the edge of the woods. When I stopped to look at it, the thing came at me with such speed and power that I know it couldn’t have been human. It never touched me, but I felt this awful chill, this fetid dankness. Fetid isn’t even the right word because that implies an odor. There was no smell. And yet I had the definite impression of something foul, something…putrid.” I paused to observe his expression. “Yesterday, I saw it again. I was about five miles out from a cemetery in Beaufort County when I had a flat tire. I spotted that…thing, that silhouette…in the trees and again at my car window. It was there one moment, gone the next.”
“On both occasions, you say it was almost twilight and you saw this dark shape at the edge of woods?”
I nodded. An in-between place at an in-between time.
“And each time, you caught it out of the corner of your eye?”
“Is that important?”
“It could be.” He swiveled his chair and stared out into the garden. “I wonder if you might have experienced what some people refer to as a shadow being. A shapeless mass that can morph into human form.”
“You mean like…a ghost?”
“No. This is a different type of entity. Almost anyone who has ever witnessed a ghostly apparition describes the appearance as misty or vaporish, but distinctly humanlike, with discernible clothing and features. Shadow beings are…well, shadowlike and are often accompanied by a malevolent sensation that leads some researchers to speculate they may be demonic in nature.”
Dr. Shaw reached for a volume on his desk and leafed through the pages. “Here.” He handed me the book. “Did your entity look anything like this?”
I stared down at the rendering of a dark creature with a human form and red glowing eyes. “I don’t know about the eyes…” I studied it for a moment longer. “I guess it was kind of like that…”
“But in hindsight, you’re unable to give an accurate description because you didn’t get a very good look at it.”
“No, I guess not…” I sensed he was leading up to something. “What are you thinking?”
“I can give you a couple of possible explanations.”
“Besides a demonic entity? I’m all ears.”
“The shadow being you saw could have been a physical representation of an egregore.”
“I don’t have a clue what that is.”
“An egregore is the product of collective thought, sometimes created by events in which extreme physical or emotional stress has taken place.”
Like murder? I wondered.
“It can best be described as the psychic entity of a group. A thoughtform created when people consciously come together for a common purpose. Some mystical fraternities and organizations have learned how to create egregores through the use of ceremony and ritual. The danger being, of course, that the egregore can become more powerful than the sum of its parts.”
“This is real?” I’d never heard of such a thing.
He shrugged. “I personally have never seen one, but as I said, it’s a possible explanation.”
“You said there was another.”
“There are those who believe that shadow beings can only be summoned through black magic.”
I thought instantly of Essie’s amulet that I carried in my pocket.
Dr. Shaw sat forward and folded his arms on the desk. “Sadly for me, I don’t believe any of these theories account for what you saw.”
“You don’t? Then how do you explain it?”
He waved a hand. “Optical illusion.”
I stared at him in surprise. “Meaning, I didn’t actually see anything?”
“Are you familiar with the term
I frowned. “So you think I imagined these silhouettes?”
“No, each time you saw something very real. Just not what you perceived.”
I sat back in my chair. “I have to say, I’m a little surprised by that explanation coming from you.”
His smile seemed weary. “It pains me to offer it. But in all the hundreds, perhaps thousands of psychic and paranormal cases I’ve studied over the years, only a handful remain without scientific or logical explanation.”
I wondered what he would think of all the ghosts I’d seen over the years.
Pulling Essie’s amulet from my pocket, I slid it across the desk. “Have you ever seen one of these?”
He picked up the tiny pouch, turned it over in his hand, then lifted it to his nose and sniffed. “Dirt and cinnamon,” he muttered. “In West Africa they call them
“From a woman who claims to be a root doctor. I met her in Chedathy Cemetery down in Beaufort County.”
He looked up. “Before or after you saw the shadow being?”
“Before. I had a really strange episode at her house. I think she put something in my tea.” I pulled out the packet of herbs and handed it to him, as well. “She called this stuff Life Everlasting.”
“Been around forever. The leaves are harvested from a plant in the daisy family. It may have intoxicating properties when smoked, so it’s now illegal in South Carolina.” He lifted the packet to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Said to cure the common cold. Basically harmless.”
“Harmless? I passed out.”
“Not from this, you didn’t. I’ve had the tea myself to no ill effects. In fact, I found it quite invigorating. Rather like a B12 shot.”
“Then she must have put something else in my tea. Or maybe it was the cookies…except she and her granddaughter ate from the same batch and drank from the same pitcher. So I don’t know what happened, but it was very surreal. Like a dream. I heard her say some truly bizarre things about me.”
He glanced up, his eyes keenly alert. “What things?”
“She said I’ve been to the other side and now my spirit doesn’t know where it belongs.”
“Interesting.” He fingered the gris-gris thoughtfully. “Have you ever had a near-death experience?”
“No.”
“Not even as a child?”
“Not that I know of.”
“What else did she say?”
“She said someone is coming for me. Someone with a dark soul who walks with the dead. Then she gave me the amulet to put under my pillow to keep bad spirits away.”
He passed the amulet back to me and I returned it to my pocket.
“It’s certainly possible she slipped you a mild hallucinogenic as you suspect. It’s also possible you experienced a phenomenon known as hypnagogia—waking sleep. Interestingly enough, this may also account for your shadow beings. A person can be alert and aware of their surroundings, but also in a dreamlike state where the
