Blue Twilight
Page 26
I wanted to kick. I wanted to scream. But all I could do was to helplessly watch as Spencer now approached. He knelt and his fingers gently traced the scar along my neck.
“You know what’s happening, don’t you? The drug is coursing through your veins much like embalming fluid. Only you’re not a cadaver. Rather, you’re fully awake. You’re experiencing something I truly envy; what it’s like to slip little by little into death.”
I summoned up every ounce of fury and glared at the man, wanting Spencer to know how much I’d love to help him reach his goal.
“It’s too bad, really. I’d love to make you part of my little collection, but I already have a Fish and Wildlife employee in the crawl space. Besides, I’m running short of shrink wrap.”
My rage boiled over in the only way it could. Tears streamed from my eyes in rampant frustration. For chrissakes, I couldn’t even blink. Instead, Spencer had to wipe away the drops for me.
“Don’t cry. Think of it as entering another phase. Who knows? Perhaps you’ll even come back as a butterfly. But right now, we really need to bring this to an end. How would you like to go for a nice swim?”
My nightmare intensified as he stood up and the world began to inch past me. I was slowly being dragged toward the edge of the cliffs.
Fight back! I screamed at myself, still refusing to accept defeat.
But no amount of anger could force my limbs to work. That fact was underscored as Mister Softee’s jingle now began to play in my head.
Spencer scurried around and, turning to face the ocean, lined my body up along the ledge. Then he began to push.
I must have started to roll off, because the sky was no longer in my line of vision. Instead I found myself staring at white caps churning maddeningly beneath me, their rage exploding in a furious roar.
I began to pray as hard as I could, hoping that death would be quick and merciful. Then I felt myself leave this earth as the world started to blur and spin. That was when I learned the power of prayer. For rather than crashing onto the rocks below, the sky was suddenly above me once more. It was as if a hand had reached down and pulled me back from out of nowhere.
All I could see was an imposing figure looming in the mist as Spencer whirled around and gasped out loud. It was as if he knew what stood there waiting for him. Shrouded in the haze was his very own Angel of Death.
A shriek reverberated inside me as a large, curved scythe suddenly sliced through the fog and hung poised above his head. Then Big Sam swiftly lowered the sickle down onto his victim. The last thing I heard was Spencer’s ungodly scream, followed by a flood of silence.
Epilogue
Eric and Lily sat close together on my how-many-lumps-does-this-thing-have Salvation Army couch, with Terri positioned nearby. Three out of four of us were being held captive, strong-armed into drinking large cups of homebrewed herbal tea.
“Finish that up and I make you some more,” Mei Rose promised, claiming it would purge all remnants of the paralyzing drug from our bodies. She was probably right. Nothing could have survived tea that tasted this vile.
“And don’t think of trying to pour it onto that plant, either,” Santou warned us, motioning toward a pathetic-looking ficus tree on the floor.
“Why not? It might actually help the poor thing,” Terri cracked. “Something’s got to save it from Rach’s nurturing touch.”
I grinned at my friend, fighting the urge to get up and hug him again.
Terri sat wrapped in a stylish satin robe with a pair of pink fuzzy slippers dangling from his feet. He’d also been darted and left temporarily paralyzed. Apparently, Spencer had planned to drag him down into the crawl space after dealing with me.
“Of course he’d want to add me to his collection,” Terri had wryly remarked. “I’m like a one-of-a-kind designer gown. I’m totally unique.”
Though it had been only a few days since the confrontation, it already seemed like a lifetime ago. It was clear that neither Terri nor I would be sitting here right now if it hadn’t been for Big Sam. He’d pulled me back from the brink of death and then had swiftly dispatched Barnes.
“Don’t worry,” he’d rumbled, his voice as soothing as a lullaby to my ears. “You’ll be all right now, and so will your friend.”
Then my guardian angel had vanished as abruptly as he’d appeared.
Only later did I learn the police had received an anonymous call soon after the attack. A male voice informed them where both Terri and I could be found. By the time they’d arrived, the paralyzing drug had just started to wear off. That’s when their interrogation began.
The police spent hours questioning me as to who had killed Spencer. I doggedly stuck to my story and did what I knew in my heart to be right. Though I’d seen the vague outline of a figure, I never managed to get a look at the face. Then I steered the police toward what I felt held far more importance: the bodies that were lying in the crawl space. After that, they’d quickly swarmed the house, removing the remains of John Harmon and five runaway girls.
But the case wasn’t over for me yet. There was still one last thing to be dealt with, and for that, I needed to return to Mendocino. Santou had agreed to accompany me. He was feeling much better these days, having kicked the pain pills and started back with physical therapy.
“You better watch out, chère. I’ll be joining you in Krav Maga class before you know it,” he liked to joke.
I told him that I was counting on it.
We left our friends in Mei Rose’s care and took off, promising to return before dinner. Settling behind the wheel, I drove straight to Spencer’s cabin, determined to face down the nightmares that had been plaguing me since the attack.
I couldn’t get that sound out of my mind—all those little legs scratching inside their cellophane shrouds, struggling to be set free. Those were the images that haunted me; hundreds of butterflies in a state of limbo, held captive in the cold and dark. That, and Spencer’s face, which continued to stare at me through the window every night.
I’d come to realize just how vague the boundary between life and death can actually be. In addition, I’d learned the depths of a human being’s capacity for rage and cruelty. I’d managed to hold my demons at bay by staying close to those I love while focusing on my main goal: making certain the earth’s creatures don’t vanish without a fight.
That’s why I decided not to report what I’d found to my superiors. Perhaps the Lotis blue would stand a better chance of survival without further meddling of any kind. Especially since Santou and I were now the only ones who knew of its existence.
We entered the cabin and the ghosts raced out, ecstatic to escape their prison. Going into the kitchen, we opened the refrigerator door and gathered up all the butterflies slumbering inside their glassine crypts.
I led the way to the bog where so much had happened to change my life forever, and silently said good-bye to Rebecca. Then Santou and I set each butterfly loose, watching until the very last Lotis blue disappeared into the fog.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks go to Dr. John Emmel, Dr. Gordon Pratt, and Dr. Richard Arnold, for providing insight into the world of butterflies; Renee Pasquinelli, Senior Ecologist with the California Department of Parks and Recreation, for leading me to the last known location of the Lotis blue butterfly; Katy Tahja of the Gallery Bookshop for helping to uncover Mendocino’s secrets; USFWS Special Agent John Mendoza, who has never backed away from protecting endangered species; Carol Fuca for taking care of my “wild things” while I’m away; and to USFWS Special Agent Sam Jojolla, whose friendship and tireless dedication to our natural resources is invaluable.
About the Author
JESSICA SPEART writes about environmental and wildlife issues. Her writing has appeared in the New York Times Sunday Magazine, OMNI, Travel & Leisure, Audubon, National Wildlife, Mother Jones, Delta’s Sky Magazine, and many other publications. Blue Twilight is her eighth Rachel Porter mystery. Jessica lives in Connecticut with her husband and their two dog
s, Max and Tallulah.
You can visit her website at www.jessicaspeart.com
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Praise for JESSICA SPEART’s RACHEL PORTER MYSTERIES
“A highly enjoyable series.”
Chicago Tribune
“Fresh and close to the bone. [Speart’s] characters breathe with the endlessly fascinating idiosyncrasies of living people.”
Nevada Barr
“[Speart] takes readers to all sorts of interesting places…She has a real flair for bringing colorful characters to life on the page.”
Connecticut Post
“Each of Speart’s books is a great read.”
Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
“Chills and laughs galore.”
James W. Hall
“The author portrays the stark atmosphere…vividly…There are plenty of appealing characters, not the least of which is Rachel herself.”
Publishers Weekly
“Rachel Porter…is a very good traveling companion.”
Boston Globe
Rachel Porter Mysteries by
Jessica Speart
GATOR AIDE
TORTOISE SOUP
BIRD BRAINED
BORDER PREY
BLACK DELTA NIGHT
A KILLING SEASON
COASTAL DISTURBANCE
BLUE TWILIGHT
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
BLUE TWILIGHT. Copyright © 2004 by Jessica Speart. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Adobe Digital Edition April 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-194427-7
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