Oberon Boxed Set (Books 1-3) Welcome to Oberon

by P. G. Forte

  “I don’t think so.” Celeste did not look up, but Marsha thought she saw her hands tremble ever so slightly as she clutched at the mug. “I gather she was mostly upset about the dog. Heather thought she might have been a little surprised at how much she missed it.”

  “I see. And how did she seem, other than that? Did they say anything else?”

  “I don’t know,” Celeste mused. “I think they talked about how she had gotten some resistance to her attempts to find out about her sister. Or something.”

  “Okay,” Marsha said quietly. “That’s it. I’m going to need you to cover for me this afternoon. As soon as everyone’s back from lunch, I’m going over to Scout’s.”

  * * *

  “Okay, that’s it.” Lucy stripped off her gloves and pushed the hair back from her forehead. “We’re done, and I’m outta here.”

  Her brother-in-law smiled at her. “Thanks, Lucy. I owe you one.”

  “Yeah, that’s right, Kenny.” Lucy returned his smile. “You do. Try and keep that in mind tomorrow morning when you think about calling me to come in to work again. And then don’t! I’ll see you guys next week.”

  “You heading home to enjoy the solitude?” Kenny asked as he walked her out to her dark green Explorer, the twin of the one Dan drove.

  “Not quite yet,” she answered, pausing with one hand on the vehicle’s door handle. “I have one little stop to make first.”

  * * *

  Scout had spent the better part of the day ignoring the fear, but it was getting harder to do. Last night, she’d dreamed of hitchhiking along deserted highways. Of Caroline and babies. And she’d woken up grief-stricken and crying, only to discover there was still no sign of Robyn. Or her dog.

  Despite the dozens of chores she invented to keep herself from thinking about it, by mid-afternoon she knew she had to do something. The first thing that came to mind was to check Robyn’s room for any clues about where she might have gone. Scout had long since grown accustomed to the presence of the cats – in the last two days they’d been particularly persistent, barely leaving her alone for an instant. Now she scarcely noticed as four of them paced along with her.

  The wallpaper was new, she noticed that right off, and smiled as she did, for it was yet another flower print. The more things change, the more they stay the same, all right.

  The furniture was different, too, of course, but it didn’t stop the flood of memories, mostly happy ones, that rushed to fill her mind. This was the room where she and Lisa had held parties and hung out with their friends. She had gotten her first kiss on the couch that had once stood in the very place now occupied by Robyn’s bed. The same couch where she and Glenn –

  No. She didn’t want to think about Glenn now. Thinking about Glenn only made her think of Lisa. But boy, it must have come as quite a shock to him when, after months of no, she’d so suddenly said yes. She could not resist giggling, just a little, at the memory.

  She hadn’t been able to stop herself from giggling then, either. When it was all over, when she’d done what she’d set out to do, and Glenn, sweaty and panting, was lying beside her.

  “Oh, wow,” he’d breathed in tones of amazement which she had no doubt he practiced for effect. “Jesus. That – that was incredible.”

  She was sure someone else would find it flattering. Probably a great many someone else’s already had. But even as inexperienced as she was, she’d been certain that it had to get way better than that.

  The giggles died in her throat as she thought about it. Maybe, with someone else, with the right someone else, it would be wonderful.

  But she was sincerely grateful to Glenn for the service he’d provided. And aware that she still needed him for future subterfuge, “Mmm. Yeah. I’ll say,” she murmured in the most sincere tone possible.

  He really wasn’t such a bad guy, she supposed, in retrospect. Clueless, of course, and clumsy, but so very obliging. It could have been so much worse.

  One of the cats reached up and began sharpening her claws against her pant leg. Scout shook her off, and then looked around the room. But she could find nothing that would explain Robyn’s absence. It didn’t appear as though any clothes were missing, not that she would necessarily know if they were. And there were two rental videos stacked beside the TV that were most likely overdue.

  She was just pondering what her next move should be when she heard the doorbell ring.

  Glenn pushed his way past her as soon as she opened the door. “Let me in, Scout,” he said, although by the time he said it, he was already inside. His manner annoyed her, and she would have told him no, except she was caught off guard, and he was in the house before she could think of a reason to refuse. “We need to talk.”

  Again? “Why? What’s up?” she asked, crossing her arms and glaring angrily before she realized that she had already lost his attention.

  She turned her head to follow his gaze, only mildly surprised to find seven of the cats, including the large beige tomcat who had bitten her two days before, ranged along the staircase, watching Glenn intently.

  “Jeez. How many of them do you have?” he said, almost choking on the words. There was no mistaking the discomfort in his voice.

  “Oh, lots,” she answered vaguely, sensing a possible advantage. “I haven’t really counted. But there’s more around here somewhere. Would you like me to call them?”

  He shook his head. “No, that’s all right,” he answered quickly. “My mother always said cats were evil.”

  “Evil, huh? Well, then, I guess whatever you want to talk to me about, we’ll just have to do it over the phone. I wouldn’t want you to stay if you’re uncomfortable. And since I can’t get rid of them...”

  “No,” Glenn repeated, pulling his attention away from the cats with obvious difficulty to focus on Scout. The look on his face wavered between reluctance and determination. “It’s too late for the phone. It’s too late for a lot of things. I tried to tell you the other night, but you wouldn’t listen.” He paused and looked at her sorrowfully. “I don’t want to hurt you, Scout,” he said, and she didn’t doubt his sincerity, but her mind supplied the missing but.

  Was Glenn threatening her? And with what, exactly? The chill that ran suddenly down her spine had nothing at all to do with the ugly, menacing growl coming from the tomcat’s throat. Before she could frame a response, the door behind her was pushed open once more.

  “Oh, good. You’re home,” Marsha said as she let herself into the hallway. “We need to talk.”

  Scout noted her unexpectedly grim expression with surprise. “Do we? And how do you feel about cats?”

  “Cats? Love ‘em, why? Oh!” Marsha’s eyebrows rose practically into her hairline as she took in the implacable stares of seven crouching felines. “Oh, my goodness,” she breathed in tones of uncertainty that were only slightly less uncomfortable than Glenn’s.

  Scout breathed her first deep breath since answering the door, she felt giddy with relief. One thing she knew for sure, whatever else happened, she was keeping these cats. Every last, blessed one of them.

  “I’m going to the kitchen to get a drink now,” she addressed her guests. “You guys can stay out here with the cats if you want. Or…” she added, wickedly as she noticed that the cats appeared ready to follow her, “I guess we can all go.”

  Once in the kitchen, Scout looked around uncertainly. What did she want to drink anyway? She pulled open the refrigerator, but that didn’t spark any thoughts. “Anybody want something?” she asked over her shoulder, hoping one of the others might give her an idea.

  Marsha walked over and looked into the refrigerator as well. “Well, like what, exactly? There’s nothing here,” she pointed out. Rather unnecessarily, Scout thought. “Do you have any tea?”

  Scout nodded. “Yeah. Sure. I think we do. Somewhere. Help yourself. Just make sure the fire’s lit, okay? I nearly blew myself up the other day.”

  She leaned back against the island counter, watching as Marsh
a went about making tea. That’s what this kitchen was missing. Someone with a domestic flair, who enjoyed cooking and was good at it. Someone who could make tea, or coffee, without blowing themselves to pieces. “Oh, and that reminds me. Forget about your prediction that I wasn’t likely to have any more accidents, or that nothing else weird was gonna happen to me. I’ve had nothing but weird all damn week. I cut my foot this morning stepping on glass from a broken window in the basement. Oh, and before that, I nearly fell down the basement stairs, because apparently there’s a step missing. You’d think Robyn might have thought to mention that little detail, wouldn’t you? And then, like I said, there was the gas.”

  Scout smiled at Marsha’s startled reaction. “That time, like I already told Glenn, it was the cats who saved me. A little less weird than voices, I’ll grant you, but still too damn strange for me.”

  “Yeah. For me, too,” Marsha looked again at the cats, who had reestablished themselves in the kitchen. “And I have to say, they do seem unusually protective.”

  Glenn snorted. “That’s just nonsense,” he said angrily.

  Scout sighed. Glenn, clueless and amiable, was hard enough to take. All pissy and moaning, he went way beyond anything she felt like handling. Especially today. “Okay, Glenn. If you don’t want anything to drink, why don’t you tell me what you want to talk to me about?” And then you can leave.

  Marsha chuckled. Scout glanced at her sharply, and then turned her attention back to Glenn. “Well?” she prompted.

  He was frowning, seemingly irresolute, still bothered by the cats, as far as she could tell. “It’s private.”

  “Oh, give me a break,” she said wearily. “What could we have to talk about that’s secret? And apparently Marsha knows everything anyway.”

  But she saw the strained expression on his face and relented. “All right. Fine. We’ll talk later. Marsha, you’re up next. What can I do for you?”

  “I just want to know what’s going on with Robyn,” Marsha answered promptly. “She’s missed two days of work, and on Monday she told Lucy some nonsense about being afraid of you.”

  It was Scout’s turn to be surprised. “Robyn’s afraid of me? Who says? What did I ever do to her?”

  “Well, that’s the question, isn’t it?” Marsha said gently. “All I know is what Lucy told me. She said she spent most of Monday telling her that you weren’t going to come after her with a knife, or an axe or something. Which, if you knew Robyn very well, you’d know is not the kind of thing you normally hear from her. So... what did you do to her, anyway?”

  Surprise turned to shock. A knife or an axe? How was this possible? “Damned if I know. Are you sure you don’t have it backwards? Maybe it was Lucy who talked her into the idea in the first place?”

  Marsha’s shoulders sagged. “So you don’t know where she is?”

  “No. I was just in her room, trying to find anything that would tell me where she might have gone Monday night. That was the last time I saw her.”

  “Find anything?” Marsha asked hopefully.

  “No.” An angry restlessness nagged at Scout. “You know, I think I’d like to find out where Lucy is, too. I think we need to talk.”

  “What a coincidence. That’s just what I was thinking, myself,” said a voice from the doorway.

  Turning around, Scout was not surprised to see Lucy standing there with a sardonic grin on her face.

  A grin Scout did not feel like returning. “Gee, Lucy, good to see you. Why don’t you let yourself in?”

  Marsha sighed. They’re going to be difficult. She could tell that they were in for another nasty scene. Unfortunately, both Lucy and Scout seemed more interested in facing off with each other than in dealing with the disturbing fact of Robyn’s disappearance.

  There’s no way around it. Much as Lucy didn’t like the idea, it was time to call the police. She slipped back into the hall, unnoticed by the others, and put in the call.

  Back to Top

  * * * *

  Chapter Seventeen

  * * * *

  Lucy and Scout were still glaring at each other when Marsha returned to the kitchen a few minutes later. The tension between them was so thick that even Glenn seemed affected by it; he skulked in the corner as though he were trying to blend into the woodwork.

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake, you guys, give it a rest, can’t you?” Marsha muttered angrily. “Lucy, why don’t you go and see if you can find anything useful in Robyn’s room.”

  “Good idea.” Lucy looked challengingly at Scout, as if daring her to refuse.

  Scout merely shrugged. “Sure. Go ahead. Mi casa es su casa, apparently. I couldn’t find anything. But then, I don’t know her as well as you obviously do.” She watched as Lucy disappeared down the hallway, then shook her head. “Fuck this. I need a smoke.”

  “Listen, Scout,” Marsha said, following her into the living room. “I think you should know that I called the police.”

  “What?” Scout and Glenn both spoke at once.

  Marsha smiled a little defensively. “Well, yeah. That’s what you do when someone’s missing, you know.”

  Scout sighed as she sank into one of the armchairs, her desire for a cigarette apparently extinguished. “Oh, shit. I was kind of hoping she had just gone off with a boyfriend or something for a few days. But I guess you don’t think that’s what happened, huh?”

  “No. I don’t,” Marsha said sadly. She walked over to the big front window, pushed the curtains aside, and looked out at the street. Her eyes widened. “Wow, that was fast. Looks like Nick’s here already.”

  “What?” Scout was on her feet in an instant, heart pounding. Surely she hadn’t said – Successive waves of hope and panic rippled through her. She took a few steps forward, and then froze as she heard a knock on the open front door, followed, an instant later by a voice. A voice she remembered entirely too well.

  Oh, no. Oh, hell no. Oh, no, no, no, no, no!

  She should have known. She should have guessed! This was Oberon, after all. Capital of Coincidences. It would just have to be Nick, wouldn’t it? They couldn’t possibly have sent someone else? Anyone else? Just this once? She should have seen this one coming the minute Marsha mentioned the police.

  And then she should have gotten herself the hell out of town.

  Again.

  “We’re in here!” Scout heard Marsha call as the room began a slow, painful spin around her. She felt herself blushing with a fierceness she thought she’d left behind in puberty. And suddenly, it seemed that blushing was just about all the action her body was capable of. She couldn’t breathe right. Couldn’t speak, couldn’t turn, couldn’t raise her eyes to his face. She could barely even hear his footsteps over the loud, frightened beating of her heart.

  She was only dimly aware of Marsha’s eyes widening in surprise once more as she swayed away from her. Was only dimly aware of reaching out a visibly shaking hand to grasp the back of a chair for support. But the chair swam abruptly out of sight.

  “Watch out, she’s fainting!” she heard Marsha say. And then she did.

  Nick wasn’t the one standing the closest to her, but he moved the fastest. He caught her just as her eyes rolled back and her knees gave way. And it wasn’t her weight that made him stagger and his breath to go, or that caused the uneven coloring he knew the others could probably see in his face. It was having her back in his arms again, after all this time.

  Her head lay against his chest. He stared at her, still not quite believing it was true, as he tried to still his breathing. He didn’t even realize how tightly he was holding her until the red-haired woman smiled at him, surprise and quiet amusement showing in her eyes.

  “You know, I think maybe you’d both breathe a little easier if you just put her down on the couch,” she suggested, one eyebrow lifted wryly.

  And Nick wasn’t at all surprised, when he’d pivoted to do just that, to see his cousin Lucy standing in the doorway, fury writ on every feature of her face.
r />   “Oh, shit!” Lucy stamped her foot in frustration. “Nick, what the hell are you doing here?”

  Nick smiled a little self-consciously. “Hey, cuz. Good to see you, too.” He put Jen down carefully on the couch. No. Not Jen. She was Scout, now. Straightening up, he flashed another sardonic grin at Lucy. “I’m here because someone called for the police, Luce. Something about a missing person, I believe? I’m guessing you’re all a little old to be playing pranks. Although...” He looked around at the various familiar faces, and shrugged “I don’t suppose I should put anything past this particular group.”

  The red-haired woman chuckled appreciatively. He recognized her now. Lucy’s friend, Marsha. Of course.

  “A pretty fair assessment,” Marsha agreed. “But I’m afraid it’s no prank.”

  “Marsha, damn it. I told you we did not need to call the police,” Lucy grumbled angrily.

  Nick wondered if her friend understood why Lucy was so annoyed. And whether Lucy had already guessed that when the call had come in, and he recognized the address, he had insisted on answering it himself.

  “Of course we did,” Marsha retorted. “What are the police for, if not to find missing persons?”

  “Well, we do have a few other areas of interest,” Nick felt obliged to point out, his eyes involuntarily straying back to the couch.

  “Whatever you’re thinking Nick, forget it!” snapped Lucy.

  “Who’s missing?” he asked, directing the question toward Marsha. Sometimes the best way to handle Lucy was to simply ignore her.

  “A student who’s been living here.” Marsha’s voice was calm and matter-of-fact. “Her name is Robyn Smith. She’s nineteen years old. Oh, and she also works out at Cavanaugh’s with Lucy. They haven’t seen her there since Monday.”

  “Here.” Lucy thrust some photos and an address book into his hand. “Maybe someone in her book knows where she is. That’s her.” She pointed to one of the pictures. “And that’s the dog.”