A Dark and Twisting Path

by Julia Buckley

  My cheeks grew warmer still. No one made a sound. Sam smiled. “But she wasn’t intimidated by my bad attitude. She was walking those two giant beasts of Camilla’s—I don’t know how she kept them both under control—and she just sniffed at my rudeness and said she needed to be on her way.”

  Some gentle laughter. “The next time I saw her she was walking past my place in that jaunty way she has. She was like a siren moving down the bluff. I felt compelled to follow her, all the way to Willoughby’s, where she intended to have breakfast with Allison.”

  He pointed to Allison, who waved. “Allison, I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you had to cancel that day. Because it meant I got to have breakfast with Lena, and after that we were friends. And the most amazing thing was that Lena believed in my innocence when no one else did—except you, Camilla—and she kept working and trying on my behalf, even when I was arrested for a murder that never happened.”

  Some rustling and gentle rumbling in the room. Someone reached out and patted Sam’s arm. “Somewhere in there I realized that I loved her. And then she defied all odds and found proof that Victoria was alive. I was pulled out of a cell in New York and told that I was free to go. On the plane back to Indiana, I spoke to my lawyer, who said that someone in Blue Lake had found the evidence we needed. And I didn’t even need to ask him who that person was. I knew it was Lena.”

  The room burst into applause and Sam lifted his glass to me. “Happy birthday, Lena. There is no gift I can give you to match the one you’ve given me.”

  * * *

  * * *

  AFTER THE TOASTS came a delicious dinner of almond chicken and fresh green beans with duchess potatoes. At my request, Allison sang a song she had sung in our high school production of Guys and Dolls; John accompanied her on the piano. She was a consummate performer, and her voice had only gotten better with time. The crowd loved her and made her do an encore, for which she had selected “Birthday,” by the Beatles. It became a raucous experience with audience participation.

  After dinner, while everyone was partaking of Rhonda’s beautiful cake and Allison was starting to play some dance music in hopes that people would hit the floor, I sidled up to Sam, who was talking seriously with Doug. “I’m just going to get a sip of fresh air,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”

  Sam latched on to my arm and pulled me against him. “I told Doug,” he said.

  Doug nodded. “I’m going to leave soon and talk to Cliff, see if we have anything to go on. This seems to be escalating.”

  “Cliff said that, too, but escalating into what? I don’t even understand the notes,” I said in a low tone.

  Sam stroked my hair. “Anyway, I don’t want you going anywhere alone. Let me run to the washroom and I’ll go out with you.” He pointed at his beer with a helpless expression, and I laughed.

  I was left with Doug, and we had identical reactions: we looked around to see where Belinda was. Neither of us wanted her getting the wrong idea. She was talking with John; she waved at us with a placid expression. I shrugged. “I certainly don’t want to worry every time I talk to you. You’re my friend, you big blond lug.”

  “I know. I always will be. Just let me lock this down with Belinda first, and hopefully things will go back to normal.”

  “She’s not still worried that you and I—?”

  “I don’t think so. But maybe I’ll go over there just the same. Don’t worry about the note. I’ll get the lay of the land tonight, and we’ll figure things out tomorrow. Just enjoy your party.”

  He moved off toward Belinda, whose blonde hair glinted in the glittering lights.

  Sam wasn’t back yet, but I made my way to the door. The wine and the public focus had raised my temperature to an uncomfortable degree, and I needed some cool night air. Outside of Wheat Grass I got just what I wanted: a soft May evening with a gentle breeze, still scented with the lilac trees that sat at intervals against the wall of the restaurant.

  “Ah,” I said to myself. Perhaps I was an introvert; I had loved my party, but I was also greatly enjoying the silence and semidarkness.

  In the glow of the landscaping lights around Wheat Grass, I saw movement. A man was emerging from the shadows and heading toward the parking lot—a man I thought I recognized.

  “Hey!” I yelled without thinking. He turned, and I realized I was right. It was the man with the beard.

  He hovered there, seemingly uncertain. Fueled by the confidence that Sam would join me in a moment, I walked toward him. I couldn’t let this man disappear. “What are you doing here? Who are you?” I asked.

  “Nobody. Just goin’ back to my car.”

  “From where? You weren’t inside.”

  “Just takin’ a walk. It’s a nice night.”

  He wasn’t making eye contact as he talked. For the first time I noticed that he had something in his hand—a camera. “What is that? Were you taking pictures? Oh my God. Are you Joseph Williams?”

  He stared at me, his expression blank. “No. I’m not doing anything. I have to get goin’.”

  “No, you don’t. Not until I get some answers. I looked you up—I know all about you!” I said, angry now at the memory of his intrusion into my life, Sam’s life. “And why did you break in to Camilla’s house? Just to get more dirt? More information? I suppose your bosses told you to do it?”

  Now he looked afraid. “What do you know about them? They said you didn’t know anything about them. Don’t say a word—they’ll get mad.”

  I stood my ground. “I think I can hold my own against those cowards. How dare you all try to make a living off people’s pain? Their private lives?”

  “What?” he asked.

  “Give me that camera.”

  “No. I gotta go, lady.”

  “You’re not going anywhere. You broke the law! You broke into someone’s home! And there is a police officer right behind me in that building who wants to talk to you.” I turned and made a show of yelling for Doug.

  With an exasperated sound, the bearded man pocketed his camera and grabbed my arm in a surprisingly fierce grip. “Come on,” he said.

  “What? Let go of me!”

  He was dragging me now, his hands on both my arms in such a way that I couldn’t fight back. “You done this. Now I’m in trouble either way. If you’re gonna call them anyway, I guess I’ll take you there. You’re not supposed to know.” Then, muttering under his breath, he said, “No way I’m dealin’ with that snake lady when she’s mad.” He had reached a nondescript car, a beige rectangle in the dim lot.

  “Stop it! Let go!” I cried. Hurt and frightened, I tried in vain to turn around, to find the door that I prayed Sam or Doug would walk through. In desperation, I screamed, knowing I wouldn’t be heard over the music inside.

  A moment later a car screeched into the turnaround driveway. I was still struggling and screaming, and then suddenly I was free, and the man was grappling with someone else. It was Cliff.

  For a moment it looked as though Cliff had control; he had subdued the man and was reaching for his cuffs, but then the bearded man punched him in the chin and Cliff staggered backward, then fell. The bearded man ran around the side of his car and got in. A second later he tore out of the parking lot.

  Cliff was on his feet. “You all right?”

  “Yes—go ahead.”

  He ran to his car and drove out at high speed, his Mars light flashing.

  I stood there, suddenly shaking with delayed fear and horror. I made my way back to the door just as Sam was coming out, along with Doug and Belinda. They were talking and laughing, but they paused when they saw me.

  Doug’s cop face snapped into place. “What happened?”

  I started to cry, infuriating myself. “Lena?” Sam asked, looking horrified.

  “I was here,” I managed, “and I saw someone. It was the—the—man with
the beard.”

  Sam pulled me toward him and I winced. “What did he do?” he asked. His face looked deceptively calm.

  “I confronted him—”

  “Lena!” Doug said, his expression dismayed.

  “I asked if he was Joseph Williams, that reporter. Now I—he didn’t seem to respond to that. But he said he had bosses. He called them ‘they.’ He grabbed me hard. I think I have a bruise. He was trying to put me in his car.”

  Doug was looking around. “What happened? Where did he go?”

  “Cliff came out of nowhere. Thank God. I was screaming, but I don’t think you heard me.”

  Sam closed his eyes. I thought he was going to faint. Then he opened them and I was afraid of what I saw. “Did Cliff get him?” he asked.

  “They were fighting. He punched Cliff, and Cliff fell, and then the bearded guy got back into his car and drove off. Cliff ran to his car and followed him. That’s all I know.”

  Doug’s face was grim and intense. He patted my arm. “You go inside. They’ll take care of you. Belinda—I’ll text you.”

  He ran into the darkness, to wherever his car was, probably already radioing Cliff.

  Belinda waved good-bye to him, then turned and held my hand—the one Sam wasn’t holding. It was silly, but extremely comforting.

  Sam leaned into my side and kissed my hair. “Why did I let you go out here alone?”

  “Don’t,” I said. “I know I shouldn’t have confronted him, but I couldn’t just let him go. I was having a nice time, feeling the breeze, smelling the flowers. He just came out of nowhere, and we needed to know who he was. He had a camera!”

  His arms tightened. “You’ve seen him three times. Do you think he’s been following you to take pictures? Or is this a more . . . predatory sort of thing? Do we assume that this is Nikon, too?”

  Belinda’s hand tightened on my arm. “Oh my God! You saw that man at the restaurant! You even pointed him out to me. He gave you a bad feeling even then, and I just blew it off.”

  “You couldn’t have known,” I said.

  My father peeked out the door. “Lena, they want to—Lena? What happened?”

  Sam filled him in, tersely.

  He looked upset and worried. “Oh, my poor baby. Why would someone, just out of the blue—?”

  “Dad, it’s a long story. It might go back to some of the stuff that happened to Sam. Doug’s looking into it. Meanwhile—I hate to ask this—but is there any way to cut the party short?”

  My father nodded. “Of course. We were just going to have you open gifts, but we have little party favors. I’ll have Tabby start giving those out and telling people that Adam needs to get ready for tomorrow’s crowd.”

  “Dad? This was the best party of my life. And I’ll always remember it that way.”

  He leaned in and kissed me. “You’re my sweet girl. Give me one second; we’ll take care of this.”

  People began to leave, good-naturedly, clutching beautiful gold gift bags that Tabitha had obviously made with great care. I managed to say heartfelt good-byes to all of them, and then at last I was inside with just my father and Tabitha, Camilla and Adam, Sam and Belinda, Allison and John: my inner circle.

  To these few I confided what happened, and they expressed dismay. Sam explained that Cliff and Doug were both in pursuit of the perpetrator, but Doug had not returned, and we waited, somewhat tensely, for word from him. It was ten thirty, and I was suddenly very tired. Adam’s waitstaff had cleaned up the tables and taken down the decorations with quick, deft movements.

  “Don’t let this ruin your birthday,” Allison said, pouting slightly. She and the others had worked hard to make the evening perfect.

  “It won’t. Nothing could. All of you threw me such a lovely party—I’ll never forget it. Thank you.”

  Camilla looked troubled. “But we need to get to the bottom of this immediately. Lena was assaulted. This man’s behavior has escalated; first he lingers around her private party—then he decides he has to take her somewhere? Why?”

  Sam spoke quietly. “I think I know.”

  We all looked at him. Everyone was curious, except for Camilla and me, who knew what he was about to say.

  “This is about me,” he said.

  “What do you mean?” asked Tabitha.

  Sam sighed. “A few days ago a man was killed just behind Allison’s house. I’m sure you’ve all read about it in the paper. I won’t go into detail, but whoever committed that crime tried to frame me for it. Luckily Doug saw through the attempt, and what we were left with was an act of aggression against me for unknown reasons.”

  “More than aggression,” Camilla said. “An act of hate.”

  “Yes. And now someone in town has been targeting Lena. Leaving her notes on stationery stolen from my house.”

  “What?” my father said loudly. I patted his arm.

  “I didn’t want to involve you,” I said.

  Sam nodded grimly. “Anyone who reads the tabloids knows about my relationship with Lena, thanks to an unscrupulous reporter and a story he printed a few months back.”

  My father’s mouth hung open. “You’re saying someone tried to kidnap Lena because they wanted to get back at you?”

  I shook my head. “He didn’t exactly try to kidnap me. I mean, he did, but it was in reaction to our discussion. He acted like it was his only option, because of these bosses he spoke of.”

  “Who are they?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. But he said ‘them.’ And—oh yes! He called one of them a ‘snake lady.’ And he said I wasn’t supposed to know about them.”

  “What?” Sam said, turning to me.

  “He said he didn’t want the snake lady mad at him, or something like that.”

  My father’s face was a picture of confusion. “But how does this relate to Sam, or to you?”

  I sighed. “If it’s reporters, hiring a paparazzo that got out of control, then they just want more stories about Sam. But if it’s more sinister than that—and all the details Sam just gave you might suggest that it is, then that’s the part of this that is totally irrational. Sam did nothing, except exist. And when Victoria was freed, she didn’t resume her relationship with Sam. But someone might interpret it differently. After all, Victoria has a house in Blue Lake, and she visits Sam often, looking for comfort. Someone with a twisted mind, who sees this as a battle, might perceive that Sam is temporarily ‘winning,’ and that he, the ‘loser,’ has been humiliated. Our theory is that somehow he has made that Sam’s fault.”

  I turned to Camilla. “I think you were right all along. This is Nikon.”

  Allison shook her head. “I don’t get it. What does that have to do with the dead man in the woods behind our house?”

  John looked pale. Allison told me he still felt guilty about the fight he’d had with Eddie, which seemed ridiculous in retrospect. He said, “He wouldn’t kill a man just to make a point, would he? He wouldn’t just select a random stranger and murder him?”

  We were silent, pondering this. Had the murderer known that Eddie Stack was offering information to Sam? Had Eddie died because of that? Or was his death unrelated to that phone call? In any case, Doug had sworn us to secrecy about Sam’s message from Eddie.

  The door opened and Doug walked in. “Let me guess what you’re talking about,” he said with a rueful smile.

  “What have you found?” asked my father.

  Doug sighed. “Cliff kept on him. Blue Lake is lucky to have him—he’s a bloodhound. But about two miles down Green Glass Highway the guy he was chasing cut his lights, and Cliff lost track of him. He probably darted down one of the side roads, and Cliff did backtrack through a few of those subdivisions out there, but he never found the car again.”

  We absorbed this in silence while Doug found a seat next to Belinda and put his arm aroun
d her. “The good news is that we got his license plate and his photo, thanks to our traffic light cameras. He ran a couple reds, and we got a nice snapshot. We’ll have him identified by tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Doug,” Sam said. “You guys are great.”

  “Why was Cliff there, anyway?” I asked.

  “What?” Doug had been smiling at Belinda, but now he looked back at me.

  “When the man grabbed me—I realized that none of you would hear me because of the music, and I was really scared, and then Cliff just appeared out of nowhere. Why was he there?”

  Doug’s brows rose, but then he shrugged. “He was driving, out on patrol. I guess he was just in the right place at the right time.”

  I stole a glance at Camilla, who clearly found this as unlikely as I did.

  Now Doug was all business. “Okay, listen. Until this guy is caught, I want to suggest some new living arrangements. Camilla, I’d like you to stay with Adam for a while.”

  Adam’s face brightened. “We can go pick up some of your things this evening.”

  Camilla nodded. “All right. Perhaps that’s best.”

  Doug said, “And Lena—”

  Sam’s arms tightened around me. “She can stay with me—she and her family. I have security; I’ve repaired it since—the incident. And I certainly won’t be leaving her side.”

  I shook my head. “What about the dogs? And Lestrade?”

  “That won’t be a problem,” Doug said. “Because I’m going to stay at the house. If that’s all right with you, Camilla?”

  She smiled. “I feel much better about the arrangement knowing that you’ll be there to guard the place. I don’t relish the thought of another break-in.” Suddenly she turned to me. “Lena! The dogs bit the person who broke in. Was the bearded man limping?”