I waited quietly for a moment, looking over at her and halfway expecting the call to be another hang-up.
“Oh, hi,” she declared, instantly riddling that suspicion with holes. “Uh-huh… Yes… Uh-hmmm… Okay, that’s fine. So which paper are you using? Okay…but it’s still gloss? Really? What’s the factor on this lot? I can’t imagine it being off by that much. No kidding. Well, can’t you adjust for it?”
This side of the conversation sounded more than just a bit photographically technical, so I turned my attention to the ginger and began thinly slicing the golden-yellow rhizome.
“What does your analyzer say? Uh-huh…Yeah… Well, if I remember correctly you’re dead on with my readings. Uh-huh… Sure, that would be fine,” my wife continued behind me. “Just dial in a bit of cyan for me if you would. That should take care of it. Sure. That would be great. No, I don’t need to see it; I trust your judgment. And besides, you’ve got the original print for comparison. No, really, I trust you. No problem. Thanks for calling. Yes. Sure. Uh-huh. Happy holidays to you too. Sure. I will… Yes… You too. Bye-bye.” She hung up the phone and immediately exclaimed, “Sheesh!”
“Problems?” I asked, still focusing on the culinary task I’d been assigned.
“Oh, that was Harold over at Arch Labs,” she told me as she stepped back over to the counter and rolled her eyes. “He’s using a different lot of paper, and the color was slightly off on that batch job I gave him a couple of days ago.”
“So isn’t that something he can just correct for?”
“Exactly.” She nodded vigorously as she began the task of cleaning the platter of fresh ostrich tenderloins and placing them into the bowl of marinade. “That’s exactly what he’s supposed to do. That’s why I gave them an original print to compare to. There’s no need to call me on something like that.”
“I don’t want to sound harsh, but is this Harold guy incompetent or something?”
“No, that’s not it. He’s really very good at what he does, and he knew exactly what he needed to do to fix the problem,” she answered with a sigh and followed it with a slight pause before continuing. “Actually, I’m afraid I might know why he called.”
“That would be?” I tossed a handful of the ginger slices into the marinade and continued chopping.
“I hate to sound like I’m full of myself, but I think he’s got a crush on me.”
“Hmmm…” I nodded. “That’s not terribly surprising. I mean, look in a mirror, sweetheart. You’re pretty easy to have a crush on.”
“Still trying to score points, are you?”
“If I can,” I said. “I suspect I can use all of them I can get.”
“Uh-hmmm,” she returned. “Thought so.”
“I really meant what I said though.”
“Thank you.”
“So…is it working?” I asked.
“What?”
“The scoring points thing.”
“Keep trying.” She grinned. “I’ll let you know when you’re out of the red.”
“Oh, so that’s how it works.” I chuckled. “Do I get any hints on how I can get bonus points?”
“You want a hint? Okay. Think in terms of a full body massage.”
“Long or short?”
“Long. Definitely very long. With warm oil, candlelight, and a nice bottle of wine.”
“Could be fun. That all?”
“That’s just to get started. You could follow it up by drawing me a warm bath with lavender and chamomile, and then while I’m soaking, you can do all the dishes that are going to get piled up from tonight’s dinner.”
“Ouch. Now it sounds like work. How about just the massage and bath part?”
“Nope.” She shook her head. “Package deal.”
“Okay, so how many points do I get for it?”
“I’ll let you know afterwards.”
“Ahhh, I see.” I grinned as I nodded and then voiced a different thought, “So anyway, back to the earlier subject. Maybe our mystery caller is your secret admirer.”
She shuffled a half step toward the phone and leaned forward then stepped back. “Well, the ID shows Arch’s number, so if it’s him he forgot to mask it that time. Besides, I don’t think it’s anything that serious. Only a bit of a crush, and I could even be wrong about that.”
“Oh well, it was just a theory,” I returned then feigned concern. “My, my, my…a secret admirer. Should I be worried?”
“What? Me with Harold?” She chuckled lightly. “I’m thinking maybe no.”
“Whew!” I let out an exaggerated and highly dramatic sigh of relief. “Had me concerned for a minute there.”
“Of course,” she mused aloud, “if you don’t clean up your act and stop having all these little midnight encounters with the spirits of dead women…”
“Hey, you’ll want to talk to them about that.” I splayed my hands out in mock surrender. “I’m not entirely at fault there.”
“Not entirely,” she allowed, “but you do get some of the blame.”
“Yeah, I do.” I nodded. “I know I do.”
“If it wasn’t for the fact that they are all residing on a different plane, I think I’d be the one with something to worry about.”
“Never,” I said. “Besides, I’m pretty sure they don’t have crushes on me. They’re all just looking for closure so they can move on.”
“I know,” she echoed. “I still get a bit…I don’t know… Jealous, seems like too strong a word for it…”
“Yeah, I know,” I said, stopping and looking over at her. “But you have absolutely nothing to worry about. You know that.”
“Unless you keep taking chances,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“I’m working on that.”
Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail that fell neatly down the center of her back. A few fugitive strands of her spiraling tresses were brushed behind her ear; a dangling gold earring intertwined with them and lay softly against the pale skin of her neck. She was absently chewing at her lower lip as she concentrated on her task. The soft, indirect sunlight coming from the atrium at the back of the kitchen cast her in a beautiful glow. I caught myself staring as an entirely new set of thoughts overtook my brain.
“So what are you planning to wear tonight?” I asked, not really knowing where the question had come from. Even so, I felt oddly intent on getting an answer.
“What?” she echoed in a puzzled tone.
“Just wondering what you were going to wear.” I shrugged, still following what seemed an unfamiliar path.
“What I’ve got on, I guess,” she answered as she took a step back and gave herself a once over. “I’ll probably change shirts. Why?”
“I don’t know.” I shook my head.
“Do you think I should wear something else?”
“I just…I don’t know…” I was starting to feel a bit lost on this trail, but it appeared that a landmark might be directly ahead, so I gave in and continued deeper.
“What?” she pressed.
The landmark was there as promised, and it was even familiar. I should have been frightened by it, but since I was standing in my own kitchen with my wife and not an elevator with a stranger, I embraced it. Without a second thought I ventured, “What about your black dress?”
Felicity stopped what she was doing and shook her head slowly as she looked at me with an incredulous stare. “You think I should wear a dress?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Well, we’re going to be outside in the cold during a good part of the evening for one thing.”
“There’s going to be a fire,” I offered, a seductive vision continuing to coalesce.
“Okay, let’s say I wear a dress.” She canted her head to the side and shot me a look that said she was just humoring me in order to see where this was headed. “Which black dress are you talking about? I have several.”
“You know, that black dress,” I rambled, simply following a curvaceous image in my he
ad that seemed to be beckoning me further into a dangerous state of being. “Long…slit up the side…”
“…satin, backless, lace sleeves, lace panel in the bodice?” she offered a more detailed description. “You mean that one?”
The image was coming completely into focus. Her description blended itself with the ethereal and brought a rush of excitement coursing through my body. “Yeah, sure, that sounds like the one.”
“Well,” she raised an eyebrow, “are you going to be wearing a tux?”
“I hadn’t planned on it.” I shook my head, answering her absently and directing my attention to the imagery dancing behind my eyes. “Why?”
“Rowan, that dress is a formal evening gown. Are you really serious?”
“Sure.”
The fantasy was rapidly heating up, speeding headlong toward becoming just as lurid as the episode I’d had in the elevator the day before. I didn’t fight it, even though it was accompanied by a bit of an itch at the back of my brain. I can only assume that itch was the reason the vision was able to take over so smoothly. No whirlpooling colors, no frantic heartbeats, and no fear; simply pure lust for a private showing of a wakeful dream that was about to become hardcore fantasy.
I must have been standing there with a ridiculous grin on my face because the next thing I heard was my name spoken in a piercing tone of disbelief.
“Rowan!”
The insistence behind her tone told me that this wasn’t the first time she’d called out. What followed immediately was an instant feeling of claustrophobia and isolation as ethereal shields formed a thick barrier around the both of us. My wife’s response to her protective instinct, coupled with the sharpness of her voice, shattered my pornographic illusion and I stammered, “Umm…I don’t know…I guess…I mean… Well, you really look good in it.”
“Thank you, but I’m thinking maybe I’d be a bit overdressed for this particular gathering.” Her voice was stern and she stared at me with a puzzled expression. “Not to mention that I’d freeze my tail off. Since when did you become so interested in my choice of clothing anyway?”
“Umm, I really don’t know,” I shrugged, all remnants of the image fading and leaving me to defend myself without its reward. “Uhh… Umm…”
“Row, are you okay? There was some pretty bizarre energy bouncing around in here.”
“Ummm, yeah. I think so.”
“Are you sure? I’ve never felt anything like that coming off you before… Except maybe during sex, but then it’s not creepy. This was creepy.”
I really didn’t think it would be a good idea to tell her the story about the young woman in the elevator at this moment in time. I’d managed to keep that one to myself, and I figured it should stay that way for a while longer. Still, the fact that the sleepless dream had recurred made me think that there was even more to it than I’d suspected the day before. I still had no idea quite what that significance was, but it definitely begged deeper investigation. And in a way it provided a thin reassurance that I wasn’t completely nuts, even if it did incite a pang of fear in the pit of my stomach.
“Rowan?” she spoke my name again. “Are you listening to me?”
I shook my head quickly and answered her as best I could. “Yeah. I’m listening… I’m fine.”
“You could’ve fooled me.” She furrowed her brow as she looked at me.
“Sorry.”
“That’s okay, I guess. As long as you aren’t actually expecting me to wear a dress tonight.”
“No. Not really,” I told her and then offered a weak explanation. “It just must have been that whole massage conversation. You got me all worked up and so my mind started to wander.”
“Uh-huh. More like went on an extended vacation. So it’s all my fault, then.” She wasn’t angry, but she wasn’t convinced either. She shrugged and cocked her head to the side. “Okay, since we’re on the subject, what are you going to wear tonight?”
“The usual, I guess,” I answered.
“The usual?”
“Yeah. Whatever you tell me to.”
CHAPTER 16
“Be it known to all that no one is here but of their own free will,” Felicity spoke aloud, raising her voice slightly in competition with a cold wind that was sighing through the leafless trees which surrounded our large back yard. “Those wishing to be in circle please join hands, left palm up, right palm down, and take a moment to ground and center.”
We hadn’t yet had any snow to speak of. A flurry or two here and there, but nothing that stuck around for any length of time. Now with the temperature still above freezing, it was looking very much like we were in for an “earth tone” Christmas a few days hence. Even so, the night was chilly enough that my shoulder was already starting to ache, and we’d only been outside for fifteen minutes. I suppose there had been only just so much that could be done to repair the joint after my encounter with Eldon Porter, so I figured I’d better get used to it. Still, I was starting to regret not donning a heavier coat.
We were all standing in a loose circle on our deck—Me, Felicity, Ben and his wife Allison, and a small group of Pagan friends. We surrounded a portable, outdoor fireplace that had been positioned on a wide bed of fireproof bricks and then stacked with carefully arranged kindling that consisted not only of dried sticks but of pinecones and a remnant of the previous year’s Yule log as well.
Felicity and I were actually solitary practitioners of The Craft and didn’t belong to a particular coven. Truth was we rarely held ritual with anyone other than ourselves, and maybe a cat or two present; however, this was a special occasion. Of the eight generally accepted Pagan holidays scattered about the wheel of the year, this was the final one before beginning the cycle anew. Though labeled as a minor Sabbat, Yule was without a doubt a holiday of immense importance and a celebration that literally demanded the camaraderie of close friends. Ben and Allison were the closest friends we had, and those in attendance besides them fit the description perfectly as well for they had become an integral part of our lives over the past year or so.
R.J., Cally, Randy and his wife Nancy, and a bubbly pair of identical twins named Jennifer and Shari—who had a proclivity toward finishing one another’s sentences—were in some ways our adopted children. And it wasn’t necessarily because they were all several years younger than us. The primary factor was really the horrific circumstances under which we’d met—a turn of events that had moved us to, for all intents and purposes, take them in like strays. They had been the core group of a fledgling coven that had been formed and led by Ariel Tanner—an old friend and former student of mine back when I’d endeavored to instruct others in The Craft.
Ariel had met a gruesome end to her own young life at the hand of a sadistic serial killer, and through my connection with her I’d become deeply embroiled in the investigation. In the process, Felicity and I had befriended the leaderless young neophytes, and soon we had taken them under wing in order to provide some of the guidance that can come only from age and experience. It had been rewarding, though trying at times. Still, a strong bond was forged, and they would forever be a part of our lives.
Eight of us formed the relaxed ellipse with Ben and Allison standing quietly outside the group. Everyone had been in agreement, and we had made it clear to the couple that they were perfectly welcome to join us in the circle but that they should feel no obligation to do so. While Ben was far less a skeptic than he’d been in the past, it was obvious that he felt somewhat uncomfortable with the idea of being a part of the ritual. However, the two of them were curious, and since everyone else was fine with having an audience, they were content to watch from the sidelines as we proceeded through the simple rite.
“I don’t suppose I need to ask if everyone is grounded, now do I?” Felicity asked on the heels of her own musical laugh. “This is feeling way too good.”
Quiet chuckles and stifled laughs elicited from the small group. Being an eclectic, non-traditional group, we tended to practice
in an informal, freeform fashion, and at times the steps of a given ritual would take on a mind of their own. She had drawn her proffered conclusion from the fact that energy had already begun to pass about the circle in a smooth, unrestricted flow, several steps ahead of being called for.
Even with my current state of being, I’d actually managed to achieve a solid ground in short order. It had taken serious concentration to do so; something I was still getting used to, but I’d done it. I’m sure that I had a bit of help from a particular redhead since she was latched tight to my hand, but none of that mattered to me right now. What was important was that I was fully grounded, and the combined energies of the group circling through felt absolutely wonderful.
“Well,” my wife spoke again, “since this production doesn’t seem to need a director, which one of you would like to call the quarters this time?”
“We will,” Jennifer and Shari both chimed in at once.
With no argument whatsoever, the two of them smoothly broke the ranks of the circle, opening ethereal doorways by which to properly exit as the rest of us shuffled around to close the voids. Moving in opposite directions, they orbited us, passing one another at the easternmost point of our deck and then continuing along the circuit until meeting once again in the east. There, they stopped, face-to-face, and joined hands in a miniature circle of their own.
“On this night…” Jennifer began.
“…of darkness long,” Shari continued.
“We join together…” Jennifer said.
“…our circle strong,” Shari completed.
“We raise our voice, above the rest…”
“…and make to you, this gentle request.”
A short measure of silence fell in behind the quick chant, and we all waited.
“Watchtower of the east…” Jennifer finally said as they continued to trade off the lines.
“…Element of air…” Shari added seamlessly.
“…Guardian of the wind…”
“…Breath of life.”
“We invite you,” they spoke simultaneously this time, blending in a double-voiced harmony. “Join us this night and watch over us in our circle. Blessed be!”
Perfect Trust: A Rowan Gant Investigation Page 20