Blue Twilight_[11]

by Maggie Shayne

  “Make it for at least three days,” Lou said. “Maybe some time away from here will clear the mother’s head. Maybe she’ll think twice about coming back.”

  “We can give her a call while she’s away, see if she’s open to reason after a few days. Maybe suggest she not hurry back.”

  “Agreed,” Lou said. “Meanwhile…”

  “Meanwhile,” Max said, rubbing her palms together, “we’ve got an island to visit.”

  There was precisely one boat-rental place in all of Endover. It was housed in a barnlike building on the water’s edge, with the words Endover Boat Rentals painted across the front of the building. There were several docks, numerous boat-hoists, and a half-dozen motor-boats of various sizes, some tied to the docks and bobbing serenely in the water; others dangled from their hoists a few feet above the reach of the waves that rolled gentle and steady over the pebble-and-sand shore.

  “It’s beautiful out here,” Stormy said, as they got out of Jason’s Jeep. She stood there for a moment, taking in the view: blue-black water speckled with tiny white-caps as far as the eyes could see.

  “It is pretty,” Max said. “I love the shore.” She took a deep breath of the sea air. Rather than invigorating her, it made her want to yawn. Sighing, she followed Lou, who was already making his way to the entrance, a small door situated to the side of a much larger one, with a tiny sign tacked to it that read Office.

  Lou knocked twice, then opened the door and stuck his head inside. “Hello? Anyone here?”

  A short, wiry man limped into view. Unshaven, dressed in bib overalls, wiping his hands on a rag, he sent them a smile with teeth that were even and white, and gave a tug on the bill of his olive-green cap. “Come on in,” he called. “What can I do for you?”

  “Stan, is it?” Lou asked, glancing at the patch on the man’s overalls and holding out a hand. “Lou Malone.”

  “Good to meet you. I’m afraid you haven’t come at the best of times.”

  “No?”

  “Nah. I haven’t got a craft available. I’m guessing you wanted to rent one.”

  “Yeah, we were hoping to.”

  The man pushed back his cap and scraped a hand through his hair. “Sorry about that.”

  Lou frowned. “You telling me every boat here is spoken for?”

  “Only those that are running. We been having a rash of engine troubles this past week.”

  “You have, huh?”

  He nodded.

  “I don’t suppose you know anywhere else we might be able to find a boat around here?”

  “I’m the only place there is. You come back in a day or two, though, and I might be able to fix you up. All right?”

  “Sure,” Lou said. “Not a problem.”

  The man nodded. Max opened her mouth to argue, but Lou put a hand on her arm and met her eyes. She let it go and joined the others in walking outside, back to the waiting Jeep. Only when they were safely inside and driving away did Lou speak. “Did anyone here believe Stan back there?”

  “Those boats all looked sound to me,” Max said. “And hell, they can’t all be broken down.”

  “That’s what I thought. But he didn’t look like he was lying.”

  Jason frowned at that comment. So Max explained. “Being a cop for twenty years, Lou has a great sense of when he’s being lied to. It’s more accurate than a lie detector. So you thought he was telling the truth, Lou?”

  “As little sense as it makes, yeah. Or at least what he thought was the truth.”

  Max frowned and tipped her head to one side.

  Stormy said, “He had that blank look in his eyes. Like so many of the others in this town.”

  Lou sighed. “Let’s drive up the coast. There’s gotta be a boat somewhere we can beg, borrow or steal. It’s the freaking ocean, for God’s sake.”

  Within five miles Max thought they had found what they were looking for. A boat, bobbing gently with the waves, tied to a dock without a house in sight. “Stop here,” she said. “Pull over, right there.”

  They stopped the car, all of them looking around.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  “What do I think?” Lou looked at her. “I think it’s not our boat.”

  “You said beg, borrow or steal,” she reminded him.

  “I was kind of hoping for one of the first two.”

  She shrugged. “This is one of the first two. We’re borrowing it.”

  “Without permission. Which makes it stealing.”

  She sighed. “Once a cop, always a cop.”

  “How do we even know it’s seaworthy?” Jason asked.

  They got out of the Jeep and trooped down to the water’s edge. Max looked inside the boat, then sighed. “There’s no motor. And look at the size of that hole in the bottom. Hell, these ropes aren’t keeping it from floating away, they’re keeping it from sinking.”

  “That solves the question of stealing it.”

  Max frowned, leaning over the small craft. “Look at that hole.” As they all did, she said, “Hell, what are the chances of hitting a rock or whatever and causing a hole like that? It’s almost perfectly round. Dead center, too.”

  “It could happen,” Lou said.

  “Looks like someone took a mallet to it.” Max turned to Stormy, fully expecting her to agree. But Stormy was staring down the shore at something in the distance. When Max turned to see what, she saw the top of the lighthouse, just visible around a bend.

  “Lou,” Max said, “didn’t Sid say something about a lighthouse?”

  Lou nodded. He was staring as well.

  “We should go there,” Stormy said.

  Max put a hand on Stormy’s shoulder. “You okay? You look a little—”

  “I’m fine.” She blinked, shaking off whatever had been weighing on her. “We need to go there. To the lighthouse.”

  “Okay. So let’s go.”

  They piled back into Jason’s Jeep and drove down the coast road, taking a few wrong turns onto side roads. Stormy pulled out the map of the town, and they located the little finger of a peninsula. It didn’t show any lighthouse, but it was the only place on the map that matched the location. And apparently no roads led out there. Very strange. Still, they finally located a barely passable dirt track with a gate across the front and No Trespassing signs posted everywhere. Jason got out to open the gate, then looked back at the Jeep, shaking his head, pointing to a padlock and chain.

  “Guess we hoof it from here,” Max said.

  Lou looked uneasy. “I think maybe you and Storm ought to head on back to the motel. Jay and I can check this out.”

  “Stop being chivalrous, Lou. We’re as capable as you are,” she said. “Besides, we’ve only got one vehicle at the moment. We go together or not at all.”

  He sighed.

  “I’m not giving in,” she said. “So you can stop thinking up arguments.”

  With a nod, Lou got out. The four of them climbed over the gate and hiked along the dirt path. It was a mile if it was a foot, but eventually they started catching glimpses of the lighthouse. Finally they emerged from the tree-lined track onto the clear-cut, crooked finger of land that seemed to be beckoning the sea to come closer. At the tip, the once-white lighthouse stood, leaning slightly, sadly in need of paint. Shingles were missing from the roof here and there, and the upper windows had panes that were missing, others that were cracked or broken. Some were still intact but smudged with the grime of disuse.

  “This place doesn’t look like it’s been used in years,” Max whispered, then wondered why she was whispering. The place had that creepy, “someone’s listening” feeling that made you automatically lower your voice.

  They walked out toward the building then Lou pointed out to sea. “Look, there’s that island Sid mentioned. He said it was only visible from the lighthouse.”

  “You think that’s where his night man lives?” Storm asked.

  Lou shrugged. “No way to know. First things first. Let’s check
out this lighthouse.”

  Jason followed in silence. Max could only imagine how painful this must be for him, not knowing what they might find inside.

  They walked beside him up to the only visible entrance, a small, faded red door with chipping paint and a tarnished brass knob. She tried the knob, found it locked.

  “That’s odd,” she said. “Who locks a place with half the windows busted out?”

  Lou shrugged. And while he had been averse to stealing, he didn’t seem to have any qualms about breaking and entering. He moved her aside, gripped the knob and slammed his shoulder into the door. It popped open without much resistance. Max started inside, and Lou kept pace right beside her, a hand on her arm, eyes watchful, scanning the place.

  It was bereft of signs of human presence. Dust and cobwebs coated everything. The floorboards were ancient and unfinished, with wide gaps between them. Lou pointed downward. “Footprints in the dust. Look.”

  Everyone looked. “Someone’s been here—and recently,” Max said.

  “More than one someone, too.”

  Max nodded, and they crept along, following the tracks. They led to a rickety door, and when Lou jerked it open, there were stairs leading downward, spiraling to the left.

  He looked behind him. “Someone bring a flashlight?”

  “I did.” Jason came closer, taking out his flashlight. Then he elbowed Max gently. “Better go back, something’s wrong with Stormy. She started acting funny as soon as we got inside. Lou and I will check this out.”

  Max didn’t hesitate. She swung her gaze behind them to see Stormy. She was sitting on the floor underneath a window, her back against the curving outer wall, staring at nothing. Max rushed back to her friend, while Lou and Jason crept down the stairs.

  “Stormy? Honey, what is it?”

  “I don’t know, I don’t know. God, there’s something…” She pressed her hands to her head, closed her eyes and began rocking slightly.

  “Does it hurt? Are you in pain?”

  “It’s…I…”

  “Storm. Talk to me, dammit!”

  The rocking stopped. Stormy lifted her head, her eyes furious and blazing—and jet-black. She stared at Max with a withering gaze and whispered, “Vulpea bãtrânã nu cade în curse.”

  14

  Lou walked down the stairs, following the beam of light Jason kept aimed at the floor. And then he could go no farther. At the bottom, a barred cell door blocked them from moving any farther.

  “Jesus Christ,” Jason muttered.

  Lou took the light from Jay’s hand and aimed it at the door. Then he tugged on it and it opened, its hinges groaning. He pointed the beam at the lock, which looked functional. And the bars were strong enough that he didn’t think a normal person would have much luck getting out of here if those locks were engaged.

  Stepping inside, he moved the flashlight beam slowly along the inside of the cell. It was curved, like the lighthouse itself. Small, maybe thirteen feet in diameter, with stacked stone-and-mortar walls, and a dirt floor. He traced it all, then started painting the floor in brushstrokes of light, in search of any clue. Already he was flooded with relief that there were no bodies awaiting them down there. He wouldn’t be surprised to find other evidence of violence, though he prayed he wouldn’t.

  His light beam inched along the floor.

  “Stop!” Jason said. “Back up a little—I saw something.”

  Lou moved the light backward, just a little. It caught on something shiny that gleamed a reflection. Lou narrowed his eyes. It looked like…

  Jason rushed forward, fell to his knees and snatched the object up. “It’s a hair clip. A butterfly,” he said softly.

  Lou looked at the man, and Jason turned to meet his eyes.

  “It’s Delia’s.” He closed his eyes. “My God, she was held here in this…in this hole. She must have been terrified.”

  “There’s no reason to think she’s not still alive, Beck,” Lou said. Hell, as much as he disliked and mistrusted Jason, he felt sorry for him in that moment.

  “Lou!”

  Both men whirled at Maxie’s shout from up above. Lou took off at a run, Jason scrambling to his feet and following right on his heels. They emerged from the darkened stairway to find Max backing away from Stormy, who glared at her, her face twisted in a snarl as she rose slowly to her feet from the floor.

  “Ce ti-e scris, în frunte ti-e pus!” Stormy shouted the words and flew at Max with a shriek, her hands like raking claws in front of her.

  “What the hell?” Jason shouted.

  And even as he said it, Lou lunged in front of Max. He gripped Stormy’s shoulders as she thrashed, swinging her clawed hands and scratching his face, kicking, shrieking, as he struggled to hold her at arm’s length. And then she just stopped. Her body went limp, her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed.

  Lou caught her against him, then picked her up in his arms, shocked at how limp, how lifeless, she seemed. She was motionless, dead weight. “We need to get her the hell out of here.” He turned as he said it and saw the reaction in Max’s eyes the instant they moved over his face.

  “What?”

  “Oh, God, Lou—she scratched the hell out of you.”

  “It’s okay. I’m okay, Max,” he repeated firmly, to snap that look off her face. “Let’s get her back to the car.”

  She nodded, the movement jerky, and led the way to the door. “I don’t know what happened. She was sitting on the floor, looking dazed and maybe in pain. I don’t know. And then she just got up and came at me, screaming that language she doesn’t even know.”

  “What did you do with the last bunch of gibberish she was spouting—the stuff I wrote down?” Lou asked.

  “I e-mailed it to a linguist at the University of PA. Haven’t heard back yet, but it’s tough to get to the computer without her knowing. She’s got it in her room with her.”

  Lou nodded, carrying Stormy back along the path. Her head lolled like a rag doll’s. “Maybe you’d better light a fire under that linguist’s ass when we get back. And I think at this point, you might as well feel free to do it right in front of her. If she doesn’t like it, too bad.”

  “I agree. What did you find in the basement?” Max asked.

  “A cage,” Jason said before Lou could answer. “A small, pitch-dark cage, like a jail cell, with a dirt floor and steel bars. And Delia’s barrette.”

  “Oh, Jesus,” Max whispered. “Then she was there.”

  “She was there,” Jason said. He seemed angry, angrier than Max had ever seen him. “I’ll kill that son of a bitch.”

  Max swallowed. “We have to get out to the island. That has to be where the girls are being held.”

  “Not tonight,” Lou said.

  “But, Lou—”

  “Look, what do we know so far? Huh? We know we’re dealing with a vampire who apparently makes a habit of kidnapping women and then wiping their minds clean and setting them free again. We know the chief of police is probably in league with him, and that the rest of the town is either willingly involved or held under some kind of…thrall. We’ve got to use common sense here. We’re outnumbered, and it’s getting dark. We do not want to go up against this bastard in the dark, Max. We’re at such a huge disadvantage already, we need to use anything we can to gain the upper hand. We need to get back to the motel. Now.”

  Max didn’t want to wait. God only knew what those poor girls were going through out there—if indeed that was where they were. If indeed, she thought grimly, they were even still alive.

  “I don’t understand,” Jason said. “If this guy really is a…a vampire…what does he do with these girls he takes out there?”

  Max met Lou’s eyes and saw how dark they were. He was angry, too, she realized. Angry because she had been attacked. Angry because two teenage girls were at some rogue vamp’s mercy.

  “All we know for sure, Jay, is that he returns them unharmed.”

  “But…what does he do with them in the meantim
e?”

  Lou closed his eyes. Max looked away.

  “Jesus, do you think he’s…feeding from them?”

  “That would be my guess,” Lou admitted.

  Jason swore and looked ready to do murder. Lou said, “It’s not as bad as you’re imagining, Jason. There’s no pain. And if he’s wiping the memory from their minds and leaving them unharmed, your sister is probably not in imminent danger. Less danger, in fact, than Max is right now, from her own best friend.”

  Max put a hand on his shoulder. “Stormy would never have hurt me, Lou.”

  He glanced at her as if he knew better. “She was as strong as a man, just now. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but—I don’t think that was Stormy. I don’t think it was her at all.”

  Max held his gaze and silently agreed with him. That person she had just seen, glaring at her, shouting at her in some foreign tongue, had not been Stormy. No way. “Her eyes changed again. They were a different color.”

  His lips thinned. He said nothing.

  Jason said, “Let me carry her for a while. When I get tired, you can take her again.”

  Lou nodded, stopped walking and carefully placed Stormy into Jason’s arms. Then he moved closer to Max and slid an arm around her shoulders.

  “You’re bleeding,” she said.

  “Better me than you.”

  “Thank you, Lou. You’re always there for me, you know that? You always have my back.”

  He met her eyes. “Always will, too.” He lifted a hand to touch the scratches on his own face, drew his hand away and looked at the blood on his fingertips.

  “I’ve got some antibiotic ointment back at the motel,” she said. “The doc left it for my head. I’ll take care of those scratches as soon as we get back.”

  He thought about telling her he could manage on his own, but then he thought better of it.

  She slid an arm around his waist, leaned her head on his shoulder. “I gotta tell you, Lou, I’m getting scared. I don’t know what the hell kind of vamp this is we’re dealing with here, but he’s got to be incredibly powerful. To be able to hold an entire town under his control… Maybe he’s exerting some kind of mind control over Stormy, too.”