by Chris Cooper
“Clearly, someone’s still looking for him,” Caleb replied.
“Fred’s a loon, and the crowd probably overwhelmed him. He thinks we’re all evil, anyway.”
Izzy squeezed by Oliver and stepped through the doorway. “Would someone tell me what’s going—”
She stopped short when she saw Asher behind the desk. The last time Izzy had seen him, he’d cowered behind the couch after she knocked Simon down the staircase. Although she’d had but a moment with the man, Oliver slowly filled her in on who he was and why he had been covered in his own blood.
“Anna and I saw that guy—Fred—digging in the trash when we came to visit after the show,” Oliver said.
“Fred’s usually harmless, or at least that’s what we thought. He goes around the neighborhood and picks the aluminum cans out of the trash. He’s been acting strangely this week, just standing outside and trying to look through the window. He’d never hurt a fly, so I’m not sure what’s gotten into him,” Ruby said.
“What did you do with him?” Oliver asked.
“Threw him out back and locked the door,” Caleb replied.
“What if he comes back? Did he say why he did it?”
“I’ll handle it if he shows up again. Couldn’t understand what he was saying half the time. Most of it was a load of gibberish, as usual. But he put up quite a fight for a man who can barely stand up straight and took a firm jab at my face.” Caleb rubbed his upper lip. “I think he nearly knocked out one of my teeth. He seemed to calm down once I got him outside, and he even apologized. He said he’d been possessed. We’ll have to be more careful with him around. I’m not one to call the police, but I will if I have to.”
“He was trying to get me,” Asher said. “He stared right at me as he came up the aisle. I stood there like some fool. Thankfully, Ruby was looking out for me.”
Ruby lay down on the couch. “You can thank Oliver for that. If he hadn’t shouted, I wouldn’t have even noticed Fred.”
Asher shrugged and refused to make eye contact with Oliver.
“You don’t look well. Are you all right?” Oliver asked Ruby.
“I’ll be fine. I hadn’t planned for that final illusion.” She winked. “I think the shows are catching up with me, and it feels like I’ve been hit by a freight train.”
“So it wasn’t real?” Izzy asked.
“‘Real’ is a relative term,” Ruby replied.
“Do you think it’s safe for Asher to stay here? Maybe he could come stay with us,” he said. “If it’s all right with Izzy. We’ve got plenty of room, don’t we?” He normally wasn’t one to volunteer someone else’s house, but he knew Izzy wouldn’t mind.
“Of course,” she replied.
Asher didn’t say anything, but his eyes darted to Caleb as if looking for assurance.
“He’ll be fine here,” Caleb said. “We’ll just need to take some additional precautions, and he won’t be making any future appearances at the menagerie shows.” He shot a glance at Ruby, who responded with a smug smirk.
“At least take our phone number,” Izzy said, “just in case. Our door is always open.” She looked around for a scrap of paper.
Caleb tore a scrap from Ruby’s desk ledger and handed it to Izzy with a pen.
Ruby sat up in the chaise. “Well, I have readings to do, and you ought to go out and make sure no one’s robbing us blind,” she said to Caleb.
“Jen’s out there,” he replied.
“You think Jen would hop up from that stool if she saw someone stealing? She’s making minimum wage.”
“Fair point. We should really give the girl a raise.”
“We ought to go, then,” Oliver said.
Ruby stood and approached Izzy. “It was a pleasure to meet you,” she said, gripping Izzy’s hand.
“You too,” Izzy replied.
As everyone but Ruby left the room, Oliver chased after Asher as he headed to the kitchen. “I’m sorry for how I told you about your father. I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that.”
Asher turned to face him. His fists were clenched, but he couldn’t seem to get the words out.
“My dad died a few years ago, and my family kept it from me until I came home. I thought I owed you the truth. I would have wanted someone to tell me right away.” Oliver tried to read Asher’s expression, which seemed to shift from anger to sadness.
Eventually, Asher turned and walked away, and Oliver stood alone in the crowd.
Izzy was waiting for Oliver outside, and he convinced her to allow him to drive the station wagon home. Although she’d been adamant about driving earlier, the way home was poorly lit, and even she admitted she could barely see past the tip of her nose at night.
“What did you think of the show?” Oliver asked, trying to rid his mind of his interaction with Asher.
“Wasn’t what I expected,” Izzy replied. “Asher seems well, though, except for the whole assassination attempt, I guess.”
“I hope he’s safe there. I can’t believe he went through everything with Simon, just to be chased by someone else.”
“Maybe it was a fluke. They said this Fred guy has a few screws loose,” she said.
“He didn’t seem dangerous, just a little odd,” he said.
“I’m sure they’ll keep an eye out for him,” she replied.
Oliver pulled the station wagon down the dirt path to Izzy’s. The house was dark except for a dim light coming from the living room. He parked the car under the porte cochere.
“Looks like Momma Bev is waiting up for you,” Izzy said.
Oliver laughed. “Considering tonight’s events, I guess weirder things have happened.”
They entered the house and walked to the living room. Bev was sitting in the reading chair, and Pan was lying next to her on the floor.
“Have a minute?” she asked Oliver.
“I’m going to get ready for bed.” Izzy patted Oliver on the shoulder. “Thanks for the adventure tonight, kiddo. Come on, Pan.”
The pup was conked out, and Izzy had to clap her hands to wake him. He shook himself off and followed her up the stairs.
Oliver sat on the couch. “It’s been quite a night. I’m exhausted.”
His mom ran her thumb over the cover of her paperback.
“You know, when you were little, we had a rough go for a while—financially, I mean. Your father’s firm went out of business, and he took nearly a year to find a new job. We had savings—thank God—but my part-time income from the bank was the only money coming in. We had to skimp and scrape to make it last. We tried to hide it from you, although not very well, I have to admit. You came home from school one day and told me kids were making fun of you for your gym shoes. ‘They’re not like the ones the cool kids wear,’ you said. I was heartbroken. I marched down to the store and bought a new pair of shoes that night. In retrospect, it wasn’t the most responsible thing to do, but I hated seeing you made fun of for something that was our fault.”
“I don’t remember that,” Oliver said. “You and Dad did the best you—”
Bev held up a hand. “It’s okay. I’m not saying this for sympathy. I want you to understand why I’ve been so hard on you. The world can be a cruel place, and I thought, by being the critical one, I’d be able to protect you from it. I know what it’s like to grow up with nothing and to be made fun of for it. I didn’t want to see the same thing happen to you, and I wanted you to have a better life than your father and I. I’ve been sick all week, thinking about what you said. I didn’t know I was doing so much harm. As for Dad, I had no excuse for waiting so long to tell you. I wish I could take it back. I was just so worried about you passing your exams.”
Bev crossed the room and sat next to Oliver on the couch. She placed her hand on his leg. “I see how hard you work at the bakery and how much Izzy and Anna care about you. I can see why you want to stay here. That’s your choice to make, and I respect it. You’re a smart boy, and I have to trust that you’re doing what’s be
st for you.”
Oliver placed his hand on hers. “I appreciate that.”
“I want to be a bigger part of your life than I have been, and I realized that I’m a big reason why that hasn’t happened.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. You’ve been very honest with me—more honest than you’ve ever been before. I didn’t realize how much you were holding in, and I want you to know that you can always be open with me. I’ll try to do a better job, if you promise to give me a chance.”
“Of course, Mom.”
“Now, if you don’t mind, it’s well past my bedtime. I just didn’t want to go to sleep without talking to you first.” She smiled and rose from the couch.
“Have a good night,” he said, still shocked by the sudden apology.
Oliver sat for a moment as Bev climbed the stairs. The day had been emotionally exhausting, and the conversation felt too good to be true. Eventually, he wandered up to bed, and for the first night in a while, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Chapter Eight
Several days passed without any additional incidents at The Parlor, and life in Christchurch plugged along better than usual. Oliver’s time with his mom had been great since their chat, and he felt a weight gradually lifting from his shoulders as their relationship improved.
The phone rang while Izzy was standing over the kitchen sink, scrubbing a particularly difficult baking pan, and Oliver was drying dishes next to her.
“I got it.” He picked up the phone, but the voice on the other end was garbled. “I can’t hear you. You’re going to have to speak up,” he replied. “Must be a telemarketer,” he told Izzy.
“Caleb’s dead,” a hoarse voice said on the other end.
“What? Ruby?”
“I don’t know what happened. I heard Asher yelling and caught Caleb trying to drag him out of the house. When I tried to pull him away, Caleb tried to strangle me. Before I could do anything, Asher hit him on the side of the head with a fire poker. We can’t wake him up.”
“Did you call the police?”
“And say what? One sight of this place, and they’d haul us away for sure. We can’t. Someone’s after Asher. I don’t know who or how, but they’ve tried to use Fred and Caleb to get to him. You should have seen Caleb’s eyes. They were dead—vacant. We can’t stay here. Does the offer for Asher to stay with you still stand?”
“Of course,” Oliver replied. “You too.”
“I’ll be fine. He’ll be safe with you while I sort this out. I have friends in Amberley who can steer me in the right direction, but it’s too dangerous for Asher to come along right now until I know who’s behind this.”
“I’m so sorry, Ruby. Are you all right?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions.” Her wavering voice became cold and clinical. “We don’t have time to waste. Pull around back when you get here. I’ll open the fence.”
Oliver hung up the phone as his heart raced in his chest.
“What happened?” Izzy had dropped the pan back into the sink and tried to listen in on the conversation.
“I have to go to Amberley. Something’s happened at The Parlor.”
“Wait, why?”
“Caleb’s dead. Asher killed him in self-defense.”
Izzy’s eyes widened. “What about Asher and Ruby?”
“I think Ruby’s in shock, but they’re both okay. Asher may be staying with us after all.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No, you stay here with Mom. I’ll slip out the back door. Don’t tell her anything. She’ll just get in the way.”
“You can’t go by yourself. What if it’s dangerous?”
“Caleb’s dead. He’s hardly dangerous anymore. Besides, Asher will need a place to sleep when he gets here. What if you took care of that while I’m gone? I’m still not sure how I’ll explain him to Mom, but you can think up a story for that too.”
“All right, but at least call Anna and have her go with you, in case you run into any troublemakers.”
“I can defend myself, and I’m not exactly heading into a war zone.”
Though he was trying to comfort her, the worry on Izzy’s face was a look he hadn’t seen on her often, and it made him uncomfortable.
“Unless you want me to die of stress by the time you get back, call her,” she said. “And call me as soon as you’re on your way back.”
He pulled Izzy close and kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll be fine—I promise.” He picked up the phone and punched in Anna’s number. “But if it will make you feel better, I’ll ask her to come.”
As the town slumbered, Oliver grabbed the keys to Izzy’s station wagon and pointed the car toward Anna’s cottage. He hoped bringing her along wasn’t a terrible mistake.
Oliver pulled the car up in front of Anna’s, and he saw her outline standing on the other side of the stained-glass window in the front of the house. She opened the door and walked toward the car, bundled up in a heavy coat. He’d been so shaken by the phone call he hadn’t bothered to grab a coat, and his adrenaline was his only protection from the cold.
“Are they sure he’s dead?” she asked as she opened the passenger door.
“I can only assume. Remember the guy we saw in the alley the other day?”
“Yeah, the short guy with gross toes and the knife?”
“They thought it was a fluke—that maybe he’d just finally lost his mind—but Caleb proves otherwise.”
“But what would make Caleb attack Asher?”
“No idea. He seemed fine on Saturday, and he was the one who fended off Fred. Ruby said it looked like he was dead behind the eyes—like he may have been possessed.”
“What are we going to do?” Anna asked.
“We’re going to pick Asher up and bring him back to Izzy’s for now. He can wait it out in Christchurch until we hear from Ruby.”
“How is he going to wait it out? He killed a man, and someone’s going to have to answer for that. And what if whoever’s after him figures out he’s living in Christchurch? What if some creep shows up on Izzy’s doorstep with a knife?”
Oliver’s stomach went queasy at the thought. “I don’t know, but we can’t leave him there. They’re both sitting ducks in that house.”
His brain was on autopilot as he sped along the back roads to Amberley.
“Do you think it could be Simon?” he asked.
“I don’t see how. Simon is dead,” Anna replied.
“I know, but who else would be after him and why? The show seems like a gimmick, and surely no one would walk away thinking Asher could bring back the dead. Aside from you, me, Izzy, and Ruby, no one else knows what he’s capable of.”
They arrived at The Parlor in record time, but as Oliver cautiously pulled the station wagon through the narrow alleyway, he clipped the side mirror on a large metal drum tucked beside the building.
“Izzy’s going to kill me,” he said as he drove toward the back of the building.
A tall wooden fence blocked the rear of The Parlor, obscuring it from view. Ruby emerged from the back doorway and pushed open the gate, leaving just enough room to pull the car through. Once inside the courtyard, he backed the car up to the kitchen door, and Ruby shut the gate behind him.
“Are you all right?” Oliver asked.
Ruby said nothing in reply, but her eyes were red and puffy. She turned toward the kitchen and walked inside, beckoning them to follow.
Asher was leaning against the kitchen counter, head in his hands.
“We have to be quick,” Ruby said, “in case someone is watching.”
“I’ll clear out the back seat,” Anna said.
“No,” Ruby replied, “they’ll see him sitting in the back. You have to hide him until you’re home. Don’t let him out of the house once he’s there. No one can know he’s staying with you.”
“Does Simon have something to do with this?” Oliver blurted out the
question.
Asher looked at him then at Ruby. “He’s dead. How could he?”
“Fred wasn’t himself,” she said. “Someone else is pulling the strings. I don’t know how or who, but someone was controlling them with some force I can’t even comprehend. Caleb would never…” She snapped her fingers at Asher. “Get into the back of the station wagon.”
The snap caught Asher’s attention, but he seemed to be in shock, his face pale and emotionless.
Ruby grabbed him by the shoulders. “I know you’re overwhelmed, but we have to move quickly.” Her voice cracked, but she walked away before he could respond. “His bag is in the hallway,” she told Oliver.
Oliver entered the hall and grabbed the small duffel bag sitting on the wooden floor by Ruby’s office. As he looked up toward the front of the house, he noticed an arm protruding from the lounge and lying limp against the hallway carpet. He took a step down the hall but second-guessed his decision and forced himself to focus on the task at hand.
As Asher climbed into the back of the car, Ruby kissed him on one cheek before turning to Oliver.
“Are you going to be all right?” Oliver asked.
“Keep him away from this place. If you need me, come to this address, but not unless it’s necessary.” Ruby handed Oliver a small slip of paper with a street number scribbled in ink. “And keep him out of sight. I’ll be fine.” She opened the gate for the station wagon to pass through then shut it behind them.
Anna helped Asher cover himself with an old tablecloth that had been crumpled up in the back corner of the trunk.
Oliver could see the end of the alley in front, leading to the street beyond. As he pulled the car past a row of metal trash cans, a figure suddenly emerged from behind a can and blocked the car’s path. Fred stood unblinking in the headlights, staring into the car and brandishing a blunt metal object.
Oliver slammed his foot down on the brakes, causing Asher to roll into the back of the leather seat.
“Would you watch what you’re doing up there?” he said.
Fred approached the car as Oliver and Anna sat frozen in fear.