Donny troubles me. I wish he would be less persistent in his search for his mother. He must not become a troublesome little boy. I’ll need to find a way to head him off and turn him in some new direction that will distract him and remove him from the trail.
Perhaps Deirdre’s needlepoint will help to accomplish that. I believe I have an idea.
10
When they reached the house, Leonie hurried upstairs to Deirdre’s room. The door stood open and she beckoned them in.
An upheaval had struck the room. Drawers had been opened and their contents strewn on the floor. Deirdre’s desk was piled with its own contents. The bedspread had been pulled off and wadded at the foot of the bed.
In the midst of all this confusion Donny sat cross-legged on the floor. Tear streaks had dried on his face, and he stared at them bleakly. From the top of a bookcase behind him, Sinh watched with cold unblinking blue eyes—thinking her own strange thoughts?
Nona sat down opposite Donny. “Would you like to tell us what has happened?”
He shook his head, scowling.
“He won’t tell me anything,” Leonie said from the doorway.
Lili spoke softly in her musical voice. “I am Chrystal’s mother, and I know you’re Donny Mitchell. We’d like to help you, if you’ll tell us what’s the matter.”
Lili’s charm had no effect at all on Donny and he turned his head away.
Christy tried, keeping her tone matter-of-fact and calm. “You know, Donny, when something gets really bad, everybody needs help. Can we help you find what you’re looking for? Maybe we can all look together.”
Perhaps because she had read Rose’s book to the cows, Donny trusted her a little. “It’s gone!” he told her. “I’ve looked everywhere and I can’t find it. So maybe my mother came and took it away. She always told me there was something magic about it. But if she came, she didn’t stop to see me—and when I met her in the woods she just ran off in the mist.”
There was so much pain and longing in his voice that Christy ached for him. “Tell us what is missing. If we know what to look for—”
He got up from the floor and went to his mother’s armchair. “It’s that embroidery she was making. My mother left it in this chair the last time she was here. And Dad said to let everything stay as it was, so when she came back she’d know where her things were. That’s what he thought at first.”
Sinh raised her head and mewed plaintively. Perhaps she missed her mistress’s presence in this room.
“Do you mean that rainbow needlepoint she was working on?” Christy asked.
He nodded gloomily and she dropped to her knees beside him.
“I remember that very well,” she told him. “It was nearly finished, wasn’t it? A rainbow with all the colors worked in. One end of the rainbow seemed to be on fire, and the other end was lost in a storm. Did she ever talk to you about what it meant, Donny?”
He seemed pleased that she remembered. “She told me one time that a rainbow could rise out of trouble and still be bright and beautiful. That’s why I wanted to find it—so I could see if that was true.”
“I can understand how you feel.” Christy pushed a little harder. “Did she talk to you about what trouble the rainbow was rising from?”
“I asked her, but she wouldn’t tell me. She just began to cry.”
“Do you think she was afraid of something, Donny?” Nona asked.
This touched some chord, for Donny raised his head and looked past them at Leonie, watching in the doorway.
“Sometimes she seemed real scared about something. Leonie knows. Tell them, Leonie!”
Sinh leaped suddenly from the bookcase, startling them all. She landed on Donny’s shoulder and rubbed her head against his, as if to comfort him. Christy thought of her whimsy about the spirit of the master (or mistress) entering the temple cat.
“Leonie?” Nona said. “Is there anything you can tell us?”
The woman stayed in the doorway, earrings trembling against the golden skin of her cheeks. “There was one time when I brought tea to Mrs. Mitchell in the afternoon. She always waited for Donny to come home from school so he could join her. He came with me to her room, and we found her lying on her bed crying. Donny went to hug her and he asked what was the matter. I set the tray down and waited to see if there was anything I could do.”
Now Donny took up the story. “She cried and cried! But she wouldn’t tell us why.”
“She really seemed to be afraid of someone or something,” Leonie said. “She—she said something very strange—that she might have to go away, and she didn’t want to.”
Donny’s tears came again. “She said I should never forget her if that happened—and that she would never forget me. Not ever! That was when she showed me the needlepoint again. She said both ends of the rainbow were in danger, and she must find her way through the arch in time.”
“That really worried me,” Leonie said. “I asked her what she meant by ‘in time,’ and she just told me to leave the tray and go away. She wanted to be alone.”
“She wouldn’t let me stay either.” Donny turned his head to Sinh, who looked into his face as though she understood, and mewed in sympathy. “Never mind,” Donny told her. “I know she’ll come back. It must have been my mother who took the needlepoint. All the spools of thread are gone too.”
“Did you tell Mr. Mitchell about this, Leonie?” Nona asked.
“I told him, but he said that sometimes his wife made up little stories. She loved make-believe, and he didn’t think anyone would want to harm her. Everyone loved Mrs. Mitchell, even though she—she—” Leonie broke off, hunting for words.
Lili had been moving quietly about Deirdre’s room, touching nothing but looking at everything. Now she supplied her own words. “I believe that Deirdre Mitchell had her own mysterious spiritual life. It’s possible that she even attracted entities that meant her harm. That could happen if she didn’t protect herself. There are always prayers, words of affirmation that ask for help and protection.”
“That doesn’t help us now,” Nona said impatiently. “Is there anything practical that speaks to you in this room, Lili?”
“Not what you would call practical, dear,” her sister admitted.
“Or to you, Christy?” Nona asked.
“Not right now.” Christy’s feelings about Deirdre’s room matched its state of confusion. Her real concern was for Donny and his grief. Grief that might be justified.
“Would you like me to help you put back your mother’s things?” she asked the boy.
He turned to her, Sinh in his arms. “I don’t care. It doesn’t make any difference. Not if she’s really gone.”
With a touching dignity he walked past them out of the room, and no one tried to stop him.
“I’ll pick everything up,” Leonie said. “Thank you for coming over, Miss Harmony. Donny’s not as upset as he was, and now that I know what he was looking for, I’ll watch out for it.”
“Have you any idea what might have become of it?” Nona asked.
Leonie shook her head. “Perhaps Mr. Mitchell has put it somewhere else. I’ll ask him.”
Lili seemed more solemn than usual. “I don’t think so. Tonight I’ll ask about the needlepoint, among other things.”
“Ask whom?” Nona demanded, still impatient.
“Josef, of course. I’m sure he will help us tonight. We should be on our way to Wintergreen soon. Let’s have a sandwich lunch, Nona. I want to get up there early, so everything will be ready before we bring the others to Laurel House. That’s where you and Chrystal and I will stay tonight. And I’d like time to rest before dinner.”
“What about Oliver?” Christy asked. “He’ll be upset when he finds out what you plan to do.”
Lili seemed not at all worried about Oliver. “There are secrets in that man, as there ar
e in Victor. He’s not as sure of himself as he pretends, and I don’t think he’ll fight me. We may learn something useful.”
If she hadn’t been so concerned about Hayden and Donny, Christy might have been an amused spectator, watching her mother. As it was, she couldn’t be sure what was going to surface, not only in the others but in herself as well. From past experience she knew what unexpected turns Lili’s channeling could take, once Josef came in. Sometimes he seemed to have a prankish sense of humor, and Christy didn’t trust him. She wished there had been time to ask Donny more about Rose’s llama story, but that would have to wait until Lili was gone.
Right after lunch they started on their way in Nona’s car. Lili exclaimed delightedly over the rainbows on the car doors.
The road to Wintergreen crossed Rockfìsh Valley and began to climb in a gradual rise. The long, high mountain loomed ahead, greening in spring rains and warmth, so that the curving road above was invisible among the trees. As the way steepened and began to loop back and forth in sloping turns, Christy could feel the changing pressure in her ears.
At the last minute, before leaving Redlands, they had acquired an unexpected passenger. Floris Fox had phoned to say she was having car trouble and would like to come with them. Someone else could bring her home tonight. . . . So she and Christy sat in the back seat, with Liliana Dukas and Nona in front. Lili had never learned to drive, since there was always someone eager to take her about, or else there were limos to be summoned.
Earlier, Christy had watched her mother’s preparations uneasily. Lili’s cheerful confidence usually overcame all obstacles, but her efforts were usually directed toward healing and life-counseling—not with the deviations of a possible murderer.
Lili had packed her costume for the evening in a suitcase—black crepe trousers and a gorgeously embroidered Chinese jacket in emerald green. She would add jade earrings, black satin sandals, and her own water lily perfume. Josef could be strangely sensitive to odors when he occupied Lili’s body, and Christy had wondered about his past lives when there would have been fewer deodorants.
Once she had dared to tell Lili that she didn’t trust Josef—he could be too worldly at times, and probably fallible for that very reason. Lili had said, “Of course he is worldly. He has lived through several past lives, and he knows all about humans because he’s been human himself more than once. That’s why he is so wise and I can trust him.”
Now that they were on their way up the mountain, Christy was glad to leave Redlands behind for a few hours. Though this might be false security if whatever danger existed came with them. At least Lili’s presence was some protection, and she was grateful for that.
In the car Floris seemed as twitchy as one of her llamas. Like Oliver, she didn’t hold with Lili’s performances, but at the same time she didn’t want to stay home and be accused of concealing something—as she announced to them all a bit fiercely. A voluminous tote bag accompanied her, and now and then she fiddled with its contents as though she were undecided about something.
The car had left the Wintergreen gatehouse to follow the upward windings of Wintergreen Drive. Signs for side roads began to appear—all with woodsy names like Chestnut, Dogwood, and Milkwood. They passed villages of condominiums—or “villas,” as Wintergreen preferred to call them. These had names of their own, which appeared on the map they’d been given, along with the keys to Laurel House.
The car turned onto Blue Ridge Drive, and now the great ski slopes were visible, slanting steeply below the road. They drove past outlooks, where miles of the entire countryside were visible. One side of the mountain looked toward Stoney Creek and the Rockfish River, the other out over the Shenandoah Valley.
Nona knew the mountain well and she found her way with ease through the maze of lanes that cut through forests of chestnut oak. Laurel House was a duplex, with the other half unoccupied at the moment. Knowing the privacy Lili required, Mrs. Brewster had arranged well. They left the car in a parking area and crossed a little wooden bridge over a gully to reach the front door. The house dropped down the mountainside for two stories, with the main living quarters on the top floor. Nona unlocked the door for Lili, who walked in like the vibrant gypsy she was impersonating at the moment. Everything about her breathed happy assurance that all would be well, all questions would be answered, and no evil would touch any of them. Nona cocked a somewhat derisive eyebrow at Christy, who looked quickly away. Right now she wanted only to believe in what her mother could do.
The living room was furnished in semirustic luxury, with overhead beams and birch-paneled walls. Curving sofa and plump chairs were comfortably modern. Over the mantelpiece hung a painting of autumn woods, aglow with color, and opening upon a vista of valley and distant mountains; wide glass windows framed the tremendous view. At the far end, a glass door offered access to a balcony.
Christy went outside at once. The day was beautifully sunny, though up here the air seemed cool. Beneath the balcony rail, the cliff went straight down for thousands of feet. Spread out below lay the vast miles of the Shenandoah Valley—a checkerboard of cultivated fields and wooded country, its spring greens darkening into summer. Far away, the river, a dark, curving thread, wound through this old, old land of Virginia.
Up here the air was thinner, and far clearer than any glass. Christy breathed deeply, savoring the scents of high mountain growth. Without warning, the thought of Hayden was sharp in her mind. For too many years her heart had seemed a dry well, but now, when she didn’t want it to happen, it was filling too fast with a warmth of new longing. Futile longing.
Beautiful places made her feel lonely. Tonight there would be a glorious sunset out there—and sunsets should be shared. But there was no one for Christy Loren to share anything with, and she’d better not start feeling sorry for herself. Hayden was involved with his own terrible problems, and it was certainly best if he never suspected the way she had begun to feel about him.
Nona came outside to stand beside her. “I still like our smaller mountains and closer views at Redlands best, but I enjoy coming up here where I can see far horizons. Lili loves horizons, so of course she had to bring us up to Wintergreen for her show. Everything is more spectacular up here, and that’s what she thrives on. What’s up with Floris, Christy? Have you any idea?”
So Nona too had sensed Floris’s nervous state. “Let’s go in and see if we can find out,” Christy suggested.
In the big central room Lili was busy rearranging furniture to accommodate her plans for the evening. A larger half circle of chairs and sofa now extended around the fireplace, with a place for Lili at the center of the curve. Floris sat in a corner in a small, straight chair away from the others, her tote bag grasped on her knees as though she feared to let it go.
“Will you help me move this coffee table, Chrystal?” Lili asked.
When they’d set the table out of the way, leaving a thick rug before the hearth empty, Lili looked suddenly into her daughter’s eyes. Christy had often wondered how well her mother read her thoughts. There had been moments between them over the years when Lili seemed to probe past any guard Christy might put up, quite aware of what her daughter might prefer to keep hidden.
But Lili only said, “Let’s talk to Floris.” Perhaps that was all she’d picked up—what Nona and Christy had been thinking about. Christy had no wish for either Lili or Nona to suspect the painful waking up that seemed to be taking place inside her.
Nona made the first direct move. “Floris, why don’t you tell us what’s troubling you? You’ve been edgy ever since we left Redlands.”
Floris, more accustomed to jeans, smoothed her dark brown pants and crossed her knees, swinging one foot in its heavy boot. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“What have you brought in your bag?” Lili asked, dropping gracefully down on the carpet near Floris’s chair, her wide skirts bright against the wheat color. Growing o
lder hadn’t changed Lili’s ability to curl up on the floor.
The flush that moved up Floris’s rather swarthy skin was painful to watch. It revealed too much. She had brought something unusual in her tote bag, and she was upset, perhaps even a little afraid, and not sure what to tell them.
In her own gentle, loving way, Lili placed both her hands over Floris’s clenched fists and sat quietly, saying nothing. After a moment, Floris began to relax, to let go. Even the tight lines in her face smoothed out. Lili could calm the inner spirit as well as heal the body, and Floris gave in with a helpless shrug.
“I’m upset because I don’t know what this means, and I hate to get involved,” she said. She opened the wide mouth of the bag and pulled out a rolled wad of material. As she spread it out across her knees, Christy recognized Deirdre’s rainbow needlepoint. Now, however, stains of red earth streaked the material. Stitches had been snagged, and the fabric was torn in one place.
“When did you find this?” Nona asked. “And where?”
“This morning. It was in the llama pen and it had been trampled and probably nibbled on out of curiosity.”
The flames at one end of the rainbow had disappeared into smears of the same red as the earth of Redlands’s fields and roads. The other side was torn so that the far end of the rainbow had vanished—leaving it a bridge to nowhere.
“This belonged to Deirdre,” Floris said. “She brought it down to my house with her several times and worked on it while she visited me. Though after I scolded her about her earring idea and told her to stay away from my animals, she stopped coming. She’s been missing for weeks, so why should this suddenly appear among my llamas? It wasn’t there yesterday and I don’t like this at all.”
Lili might weigh her neck down with amber and turquoise and crystal, but she never wore rings, and her slender fingers were free of any metallic vibrations. She rubbed her palms together vigorously, gathering electricity, then held them over Floris’s hands. Finally, she touched the woman’s forehead, calming, soothing.
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