Ripples in the Shadows

by Kathy Dexter

  “Why not? Spiritual healings, communication with the ancestral spirits, other sacred rites are part of many Indian cultures. And from the way they’ve shielded themselves over the centuries, they must have quite a few magical powers we don’t know about.”

  Finn shook his head. “Sad that even in modern times we have ignorant people willing to hurt those who are. . .unconventional.”

  “Too bad we can’t change the bigoted mindset of those Neanderthals you mentioned. Maybe just stay one step ahead of them.” Logan finished his beer. “Let’s go see what Reenie and Dr. Paul are up to.”

  They checked out the massive room on the left, which housed the gaming tables. “Reenie used to prefer slots,” Logan said.

  “Yeah, I remember when Standing Bear banned her from the casino.”

  “I’m surprised she’s allowed to return. Let’s see if she’s changed her ways.” Logan led the way to the right where banks of video machines provided a wide variety of games. Eager players used cards instead of actual coins. The two men put money on a couple of those cards, then drifted around the room as though searching for the perfect machine.

  “She's here,” Logan said.

  “Good. I don't think I can afford to lose big money at blackjack or the craps table.” Finn found a couple of slots near Reenie where he and Logan could observe their quarry.

  Reenie’s feverish eyes focused on spinning fruit. She frowned, yanked out her card, and leaped to her feet.

  “I’ll see where she’s going,” Logan murmured to Finn. “You know what Dr. Fleming looks like?”

  “Yeah, I met him at the Masquerade Ball.”

  “See if you can locate him, what he’s up to.”

  Finn nodded and drifted away.

  Logan followed Reenie to the desk, close enough to see her count out fifty dollars. She licked her lips as she shoved the money toward the cashier. The last of her funds?

  Reenie bumped his arm when she turned to go. Her voice rose to a sharp squeak. “What are you doing here?”

  “Just trying to win back my shirt from the last dismal attempt at the slots.” He nodded toward the card the cashier pushed toward Reenie. “Hope you’re having better luck.”

  Her fingers trembled as she gripped the card. “Oh, this is for a friend. I already spent my limit. I better get back.” Face flushed, worry lines worming across her forehead, Reenie skedaddled.

  Logan followed, allowing other people to fill the space between him and the woman. When she glanced around, he slid into a seat at a slot machine where he could still see her without being spotted himself.

  Did Stoner know where his wife went nights when he wasn't home? Had Reenie returned to her gambling habit? Was she in debt? If so, had this precipitated his chief’s recent odd behavior?

  Too much speculation. Logan couldn’t travel down that path without facts.

  No more tiptoeing around, Logan. Use everything you’ve got to rip away the masks of lies and threats.

  Before anyone else is harmed.

  CHAPTER 24

  L OGAN TAILED REENIE, expecting her to lead him to Dr. Fleming. He hadn’t quite worked out how he planned to get the truth from those two when Finn gestured from the gaming tables room. Behind him, screams of delight mingled with groans of despair. Despair seemed to win out.

  Logan glanced around at the mass of green felt tables crammed with gamblers. A full house. He smiled at his play on words. The players’ eyes glazed with panic, desperate to win a boatload of money. If only Lady Luck would spin the roulette wheel in their favor. Or blow good fortune on a pair of dice. Perhaps provide the ace for the winning blackjack hand.

  Standing Bear had to be raking in huge profits for the tribe. A good reason for the presence of the professional security crew in vivid blue uniforms. But could there be another reason for such a large number of guards? Had there been an attempt to rob the casino?

  Burglars bold enough to rob the Museum of Magic during a shindig with hundreds of people wouldn’t hesitate to target a casino with a mother lode of cash on hand. And if magic penetrated the museum’s defenses, couldn’t it do the same to Standing Bear’s sophisticated security?

  “You see Walt Standing Bear anywhere?” Logan asked Finn.

  “No, but I spotted the good doctor losing at one of the blackjack tables.” Finn nodded toward the action. “He's down to his last two chips. And he's not happy.”

  Fleming slammed down his cards and growled at the dealer, “These are worn, easy to read. Get new ones.”

  “Of course, sir.” After breaking the seal on a fresh deck, the young female croupier counted the cards, put them in the automatic shuffler, and dealt.

  The doctor continued to lose. His face reddened when two tens weren’t enough to beat the dealer’s ace and jack. He scowled as the next two hands went bust with scores over twenty one.

  As the dealer swept away his last chips, he grabbed her wrist. “You're cheating me.”

  With her free hand, the dealer gestured to one of the guards who quickly appeared at the doctor’s side. “Sir, why don't you come with me?”

  Fleming shrugged the beefy hand off his shoulder and demanded, “Get me Standing Bear.”

  “This way, sir.”

  A curious crowd followed. Finn and Logan let themselves be caught in the surge and managed to see Standing Bear escort the doctor into his private office. No ruckus. The mob sighed their disappointment and returned to the tables for another chance at elusive fortune.

  Finn and Logan lingered.

  “You think he's a regular here?” Finn asked.

  “See if you can find out from the croupier,” Logan said. “I'll check with the guard. He’s an old classmate of mine.”

  Ted Andrews had been on the high school football squad with Logan. A big lad back then, a mountain of muscles now. He could easily have squashed Fleming if the doctor had caused a brawl.

  “Work out much, Ted?”

  The guard grinned. “Every chance I get, Logan. Lets me keep this job.”

  “Well paid?”

  “Better than a cop's salary. Didn't take you for someone who could afford to gamble.”

  Logan smiled in return. “You got that right. If I were a doctor like Fleming, I’d have more cash to throw away at blackjack. He a regular at Spirit Winds?”

  Something flickered in Ted’s eyes. “Got a reason for asking?”

  Most doctors could afford nice things like a fancy sports car. But not if they regularly lost money gambling. A check into the good doctor’s finances seemed in order. Not something he should tell Ted, though. “Just shootin’ the breeze with a former classmate.”

  “The doctor in trouble with the police?”

  “Not that I know of. But he seemed to lose a lot of money tonight.” Ted had brains as well as muscle. Logan felt sure the man could give him a lead. “I’ve seen other gamblers go down the wrong path to feed their addiction. Better if I can stop trouble before that happens.”

  “Maybe you should talk to Mr. Standing Bear.” Ted disappeared into the office. After a few moments, he opened the door and crooked a finger for Logan to enter.

  Logan looked around. “I didn’t see Dr. Fleming leave.”

  “Side door.” Standing Bear waved him to a seat on the other side of his desk. “Exactly what are you investigating that brings you to my casino?”

  “You don't waste any time with pretty conversation.”

  “Not my style. Or yours.” Standing Bear waited.

  Should Logan start with his nebulous concerns about the doctor? Nothing concrete there. After the attempted theft at the museum, Standing Bear might be more willing to discuss a possible break-in at the casino. “Has anyone tried to rob Spirit Winds?”

  “You think someone might try? You've seen my security.”

  “Including the totems. But you must be aware that the Museum of Magic has a state-of-the-art system, yet thieves broke in while the Masquerade Ball was in full swing. Plenty of people on the premises,
but no alarm sounded. It was sheer luck the robbers were discovered trying to get away with the goods.”

  “What was wrong with the alarm?”

  “Nothing.”

  Standing Bear took a moment. “Magic?”

  “Could be.”

  Sharp white teeth gleamed. “I've lived in Mystic Lake all my life, West. I'm aware of the. . .talents. . .many of my neighbors possess.”

  “Then if you suspect magic was used to disable the museum's security, why wouldn't the thieves use that same technique to attack your system?”

  “They've tried. And failed.” The teeth sparkled in the glow from the desk lamp. “I don't rely on simple electronics, West.”

  “That’s why you installed my father’s carvings? Their magic counteracted the thieves’.”

  “Unquestionably, Ben’s unique gift added to our defenses. And as a Healer among my tribe, I, too, have a proficiency with the paranormal.”

  Logan had already admired the turtle shell rattles and the medicine mask on the back wall. “An elder?”

  Standing Bear nodded slightly. “I take care of my people. And what belongs to them.”

  “Do you know who tried to rob the casino?”

  Shadows obscured Standing Bear's eyes. “I have suspicions but no evidence.”

  “And you won't share without proof?”

  “Not wise to let the enemy know you're aware of their tactics until you can crush them. Isn't that why you won't tell me why you're really here tonight?”

  “No facts. Just a sense of something being off.”

  “Better to keep such uncertainties private until you can substantiate your case.”

  Well, the man had shared more than Logan expected. They’d reached an impasse––for now. The two walked to the entrance together where Finn waited.

  Fleming brushed by, stopping long enough for a parting remark to Standing Bear. “Make sure that chick no longer deals at my table, chief. Otherwise, my friends and I will take our business elsewhere.” His scowl included Logan and Finn as Reenie quivered on the sidelines.

  After they were gone, Finn glanced at Standing Bear. “Chief?”

  “He thinks the term belittles me, puts me on a level beneath him. His way of showing his superiority.”

  Finn snorted. “He must not know about your MBA from Stanford.”

  “Always best to let the enemy underestimate you.”

  As they headed toward their cars, Logan asked, “Besides looking into the connection between Fleming and Dave Jones, can you search for some funny business twenty years ago? Tomorrow I’m going to check police reports from that time period. Maybe some of the news stories can provide insights which might be missing from official records.”

  “And the subject matter?”

  “A car accident caused by faulty brakes.”

  * * *

  Logan had one more stop to make.

  He parked a few feet from his father’s driveway and Sylvia’s car. One light shone from the kitchen window. Another glowed in the back at his father’s workshop.

  On rubber soles, Logan moved noiselessly to the trunk of Sylvia’s car. He spread his hands on both sides of the lock and concentrated. A subtle click and the lid popped. Logan grabbed the gas can and closed the trunk with a slight, metallic snap. Crouched, he slipped under the kitchen window to the workshop and knocked softly.

  After a few moments, his father opened the door, holding a chisel in one hand. When he saw his son, a warm smile spread upward to his cheeks. “Logan! Come in.”

  “Sorry to disturb you so late, Dad.” Logan placed the can on the floor. “But I’m concerned about Sylvia.” He summarized his stepmother’s visit to Dave Jones’ gas station and the fragments of conversation Logan had overheard.

  Ben’s lips pressed together and his face paled. “What’s she––”

  The door flew open and Sylvia tumbled in, closely followed by Clarissa. “Ben, there’s a car parked near our driveway––” Sylvia’s head swiveled toward Logan. “Oh, I didn’t know you were coming over.”

  “Just a quick stop on my way home. I thought Theo might still be up and wanted to make sure he knew I’d pick him up Saturday morning.”

  “For what?”

  “The book signing at the museum.”

  “No! He can’t go.” Sylvia rushed to Ben’s side. “It isn’t safe.”

  She looked at the chisel in his hand and glanced around the worktable at several unfinished works, including a unicorn and a small red dragon. Her eyes blinked in an uneven staccato. “I don’t like it here. Those creatures, they’re. . .frightening.”

  “My carvings?”

  “Ben’s sculptures are magnificent, my dear.” Clarissa put a hand on her arm. “People love them. Why, I even have one of Ben’s delightful owls in my garden.”

  “I bet it does things no live bird can.” Sylvia tried to laugh but choked instead.

  “My creatures protect,” Ben spoke softly. “I use the gifts I’ve inherited to keep people safe.”

  “Gifts.” Sylvia put a shaking hand to her forehead. “You’ve passed them on to our son. And now Theo’s in terrible danger.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve had readings done.” Sylvia chewed her lip. “Now I must keep him away from that magic nonsense.”

  Logan moved closer to Sylvia. “If it’s such nonsense, why would you have your fortune told by someone claiming to have visions about Theo’s future?”

  “That’s different. Psychics use their skills to guide me. Not like you and your father,” Sylvia hissed. “Despicable how you two teach Theo the devil’s ways behind my back and encourage him to defy me.”

  “Haven’t you frightened our son enough with your wild rants?” Ben pounded a fist on the table. “You promised to stop taking those pills.”

  “You gave them to Dr. Adams, didn’t you?” Sylvia’s chin came up, but she didn’t look directly at her husband. “I’m fine now. Otherwise, the doctor wouldn’t have let me leave the hospital.”

  “He ordered you to take it easy for a few days,” Ben said.

  “That doesn’t mean I’m supposed to stop being a mother.”

  “Theo knows you love him.” Clarissa’s touch appeared to ease the tension running through Sylvia.

  A sob escaped. “He thinks I’m a monster.”

  Clarissa held her hand. “He’s worried about you.”

  “If only he’d do what I tell him. Then he’d be safe.” Sylvia wiped her eyes and stumbled backwards over the gas can. “What’s that doing here?”

  “I found it in the trunk of your car,” Ben lied.

  Logan gave silent thanks his father had covered for him. At least Sylvia couldn’t tell Jones the police had been watching his place. “It’s the same kind of can we found at the cottage when intruders threatened Hunter,” Logan said. Would that crumb of information prod his stepmother into revealing more?

  Her face blanched a pasty gray. “I don’t know anything about that.” She chewed her lips again and shifted her gaze to Ben. “I noticed you were low on gas for one of your chainsaws. I thought I’d do something nice for you.”

  Ben put an arm around her shoulder. “I appreciate it.”

  “I’m trying,” she whispered as she slumped against him.

  “I know.” Ben held her close. “You better get some sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

  As Sylvia straightened, Ben released her, and she hugged Clarissa. “Thanks for being a good friend.” She nodded to Logan, then headed out the door.

  “Did she confide in you?” Logan asked Clarissa.

  Clarissa shook her head. “The woman is lost on some dark path, believing she is alone, that her family wants her gone.”

  Ben grabbed her hand. “What can I do to help her?”

  Before Clarissa could answer, the sound of an engine sparking to life caused the three of them to turn toward the door.

  “That’s Sylvia’s car,” Ben cried.

 
; “Go after her,” Logan said. “I’ll stay with Theo.”

  Ben patted his pockets, pulled out his keys, and dashed outside.

  “I’ll call some friends to be on the lookout for her,” Clarissa said.

  Logan gritted his teeth. “That woman has planned something with Dave Jones. We have to stop her––both of them––before they hurt someone else.”

  CHAPTER 25

  H UNTER SMILED AT the multi-colored streamers, red and blue balloons, and bright, framed posters of the characters from her book, which adorned the entrance to the Museum of Magic. Even the black iron Victorian marble fountain at the bottom of the steps spouted blue water in honor of Henry, the heroic dragon. It was a whimsical place for children to gather on a Saturday morning.

  Max set up a sturdy table in the courtyard near the fountain and provided comfortable chairs, a cash register for his niece Lexa, and enough pens to sign a thousand books. Hunter’s nerves frizzed. She hoped the turnout would match Max’s expectations and efforts.

  Ally and Hunter put on their Henry and Syrena costumes one last time. Hunter traded the rather flimsy blouse for a sturdier t-shirt to wear under the magnificent blue cape.

  Ally practiced galloping across the courtyard to delight the children.

  About twenty yards from the fountain, a man in a brown suit sat on a bench reading a newspaper.

  Lou McDonald.

  Hunter tapped him on the shoulder. “I thought guard duty ended at sunrise.”

  “I got a call to meet a client here.” Lou folded his paper.

  Hunter reached into the cape’s inside pocket and took out a small sheet of paper. “Here’s the copy of Mary Hawthorne’s code I promised you.”

  “Thanks.” He slipped it inside his shirt pocket. “You got the original in a safe place?”

  Her hand slid along the cape. “Right here. I didn’t dare leave it at the cottage. In case those attackers come back when I’m not there.”

  Lou started to say something but was interrupted by Logan’s arrival with Theo. The boy ran to Hunter. “My brother promised he’d buy me a new copy of your book today.”