Nowhere Safe
Page 36
“Yeah, and I’m on my way, goddammit,” Wes snapped back.
“Call 9-1-1. Looks like we’ve got a dead body. Male. I think it’s a teacher named Harding from Twin Oaks.”
“Shitfire, Nine.”
“I know. But there’s nobody here but him and me.”
She clicked off and looked at the scene. He’d apparently fallen out of the chair, she thought. A cup lay shattered on the floor beside his head and a small amount of coffee had spilled onto the floor. Had he had a heart attack, or had there been something in the coffee? Something Ani had given him? Roofies or worse? One of her special cocktails?
Looking down at him, it dawned on her that he’d probably kidnapped Gillian Palmiter. Bartender Mark had said he’d wanted Jilly that night at Gulliver’s, and it looked like he’d found a way to have her and secrete her away. Probably followed her to the boyfriend’s apartment parking garage, picked her up there, brought her here, possibly?
And maybe he was responsible for the missing Ms. Claudia Livesay as well.
She got right down, looking him over closely. He’d been through some kind of fight. There were scratches on his face, and was that a stun gun mark? She inhaled sharply. It looked like he’d already tangled with Ani.
Her eye caught on something else: a faint line of what looked like blood on the toe kick beneath the cabinet that ran around the end of the peninsula. On hands and knees she followed it into the main U of the kitchen and saw, scratched into the wood, the word GARDEN.
She stood up fast, staring through the French doors to the garden beyond. Whose message was it? Daria Johannsen’s? And was that the beginnings of a casket-sized hole being dug just past the raspberry vine? She longed to go out and look, but decided she’d broken enough rules already. It would be far more prudent to wait by the body. Let the techs do their job outside.
Moving back to the dining area, she glanced down at him again. Her gaze stopped on the coffee spill once more. Turning her head, she zeroed in on the stainless steel carafe of the coffee maker.
Had Ani put something in the coffee? Hemlock or foxglove . . . ?
Grabbing up a paper towel, she carefully picked up the carafe. She could hear liquid sloshing so she carried it to the sink, holding it with one hand while she searched through nearby cupboards for a vessel to pour it into. Finding a bowl, she set it in the sink, then poured the coffee into the bowl. Something was pressing against the lid, so she pulled off the top and dumped whatever was inside into the coffee in the bowl.
Something sank, then floated to the surface.
A dead salamander.
Huh, September thought. Now what the hell is that all about?
Epilogue
She woke slowly, her ears recognizing the sound of a match striking, her nose registering the familiar burning scent at the same moment. Opening her eyes, she saw the glow of the flame as it touched a wick inside a hurricane lantern, dispelling the room’s darkness in a warm circle of light.
She was lying on a hard bed in a fir-paneled room. Years of caution kept her from asking the first question that crossed her brain: Where am I ?
But the woman lifting the lamp from the bedside table answered her as if she’d spoken. “You’re with us now.”
Lucky blinked several times and stared at her. She was middle-aged, blonde, her hair pulled back into a bun, and she wore a long, old-fashioned nightgown with a high-necked, lace collar. She gazed down at Lucky in a stern way, as if she found her lacking, which maybe she did. Lucky had run into that all her life.
“Who are you?” Lucky demanded in a raspy voice which ended in a deep, rattling cough. The ocean. The frigid water. She remembered the sense of soaring as the car flew off the jetty.
And she realized, vaguely, that the clock inside her head had stopped.
“I’m Catherine. And you’re one of Madeline’s daughters,” the woman said. “Which makes us family.”
I’m at Siren Song, she realized with a jolt. Inside the gates . . . inside the lodge.
“You can stay here until you have your strength back, but then you’ll have to leave.”
“How long do I have?” Lucky asked with an effort.
“As soon as you’re better you’ll have to leave. You’re not finished with your work.”
How did she know? Did she know? Lucky could only stare mutely at her, afraid to give too much away.
“I’ll give you as much time as I can,” Catherine promised her, walking to the window and gazing into the black night. “But we can’t have the authorities at our door.”
“No,” Lucky agreed quickly.
She turned and looked at her, her expression softening the tiniest bit. “Welcome home, Ani.”
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
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Copyright © 2013 by Nancy Bush
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
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ISBN: 978-1-4201-2503-0
eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-3276-2
eISBN-10: 1-4201-3276-8
First Electronic Edition: September 2013