Medium Rare: (Intermix)

by Meg Benjamin

  Helen settled into the back of his SUV, as he slid into the driver’s seat. He gunned the motor to back down the driveway, then managed to kill the engine.

  “Moron,” said a voice beside him.

  He blinked, then turned to his right. Lenore sat in the passenger’s seat staring at him with bright bird eyes.

  He checked the rearview mirror. Helen was still stretched across his backseat. She whimpered again.

  “Oh, come on!” he groaned. “I don’t have time for this.”

  He cranked the engine again, breathing a silent prayer of thanks when it caught. “Okay, you can both come with me. But you’ll have to stay in the car, understand? I’m not going to try to smuggle you into the hospital, even if that were remotely possible.”

  Lenore subsided into muttering while he turned the car in the direction of the aid car and Rose.

  At the hospital, Evan parked in the nearest lot with an open space, then stepped out of the car with a quick glance back to make sure the animals stayed put. He trotted toward the main entrance. It was the closest hospital to Rose’s house; with any luck it would be where the aid car had gone. After a moment, he heard a clicking sound behind him.

  He turned. Helen stood watching him, her head up.

  Evan sighed. He must not have closed the door as tightly as he’d thought. “No. Look, I told you, I can’t take you inside.” He waved his hands at the dog, trying to turn her around. “Just go back to the car now.”

  Helen stayed where she was.

  “All right. So be it. I don’t have time to mess with this anymore.” He turned back toward the automatic doors.

  The waiting room was thronged with people sitting in chairs, leaning against walls, walking around the various hallways. He stood in line for a few minutes to reach the information desk, only to be told that admissions information was confidential and couldn’t be shared with anyone who wasn’t a member of the family. Since Evan had no idea who the patient in this case was, he couldn’t come up with any way to claim a family relationship, or even a friendship. Hell, for all he knew, the patient might be a complete stranger.

  Behind him, Helen gave a quiet “woof.”

  Evan spun around. The dog looked up at him, whimpering urgently. “Quiet,” he hissed. “Do you want to get us both thrown out of here?”

  A man leaning against the wall nearby scowled at him. “You talkin’ to me, buddy?”

  Evan shook his head. “No, sorry. Just trying to get the dog out of here.”

  The man stared at him. “What dog? You see a dog around here? No dogs allowed in the hospital.”

  Helen stood calmly at his side. The man looked directly at her, then went back to staring out the window.

  Helen barked loudly. Evan jumped. Nobody else did. He looked around the room. Nobody so much as glanced their way.

  After a moment, he took a deep breath, staring down the hall toward the swinging doors at the end. “Do you know where they are, dog?” he muttered.

  Helen yipped, then trotted down the hall ahead of him.

  The dog led him up three flights of stairs, then down a hall with patient rooms on either side. He followed her to the doorway, glancing in around the edge. A woman lay on the bed, her face illuminated by the light over her head. She looked calm, almost serene. Rose’s mother—had to be. She was a dead ringer for her daughter.

  Evan grimaced. Dead ringer was probably not the best choice of words under the circumstances.

  A dark-haired man sat in the chair next to the bed holding her hand, while a couple of doctors huddled at the side of the room studying a printout.

  A raucous cackle drew his gaze to the bedrail. Lenore spread her wings, then settled again, staring at him. No one in the room even glanced her way.

  After a moment, Evan backed slowly to the chairs at the side of the hall, then sank down heavily. Helen dropped to the floor beside him. Okay. We are officially entering cloud cuckoo land. Do not pass go. Do not collect your sanity.

  They sat outside the room for a half hour or so. People walked up and down the halls—doctors, nurses, orderlies, visitors, even a patient or two—but nobody remarked on the Shetland-pony-size dog flopped on the floor next to his feet. He wasn’t even amazed anymore. In the general scheme of things, it didn’t seem important.

  Helen rested her muzzle on his knee, and he found the weight oddly comforting. Somehow he and Helen seemed to be the only ones who realized just how dire the situation was.

  Except for Rose.

  He saw her before she saw him. She stood at the end of the hall, staring out the window, her arms wrapped around her waist as if she were trying to comfort herself and not really succeeding. He wanted to go to her, to take her in his arms and comfort her himself, but he didn’t want to startle her. It might make her inclined to punch him.

  Not that you don’t deserve it.

  Helen had no problems with startling her, though. The dog yipped loudly and Rose swiveled toward them. Her gaze met Evan’s. She stood staring for a moment, her expression blank. Then she moved toward them. Helen whimpered slightly, moving her head against Evan’s knees.

  “Evan?” Rose’s voice was level. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to help if I can. I guess that’s your mother in there.”

  “Good guess.” She closed her eyes for a moment, then knelt beside him to tickle Helen’s ears. “Why did you bring the hound?”

  He shrugged. “I couldn’t seem to keep her away.”

  “No, I suppose you couldn’t. And Lenore?”

  He shrugged again. “Another hitchhiker. They probably could both have gotten here on their own, but maybe I was faster.”

  She sank into the chair beside him. “Both of them came with you. I should have known.”

  He took a breath and blew it out. “Nobody else can see them, can they? Just you and me.”

  She shook her head. “Nope. Just you and me. And maybe Ma—if she were awake, that is.” She glanced back at her mother’s room again.

  He took another breath, willing himself not to touch her yet. Not until he knew she wouldn’t spit in his face. “What happened, Rose? What’s wrong with your mother?”

  She shook his head. “I found her like that in the doorway to my house. I don’t know what happened before I got there. How did you know to come here tonight?”

  He licked his lips again. “I had a dream.”

  “About my mother?”

  “Sort of. A warning. A message to go to your house.”

  “I see.” She nodded slowly. “So what avatar does he use with you?”

  He stared at her. “Avatar?”

  “He told me he’d been visiting your dreams, but he didn’t tell me what he looked like when he did.” She closed her eyes, rubbing a hand across the back of her neck. “He’s always Skag, though. Deep down.”

  Evan opened his mouth and then closed it again. His choices seemed clear. He could stay in rational land, where he’d always lived happily. Or he could accept that the world was basically ass– backward from what he’d always thought was true.

  Rational land beckoned. He waved it a quick goodbye.

  “He looks like that actor from the fifties you told me about. George Sanders, I guess.”

  She nodded, opening her eyes again. “I never wanted to be in the middle of this, you know. I sure as hell didn’t want anything to happen to my family. My mother walked out of that house when she was eighteen, and she made sure I didn’t spend any time there myself. I guess she thought she could end the whole cycle once and for all. She should have known better. Grandma always got what she wanted. She did an end run around her when she gave me that house. You don’t get away from three generations of Riordans that easily.”

  “You think this has something to do with your grandmother? With her . . . profession?”

&nb
sp; Rose turned to look at him, her shoulders slumping. “I don’t know anything about what happened, Evan. I wasn’t there. If I knew what was going on, I’d help her.”

  “Why didn’t your mother want to, well, take over for your grandmother?”

  “We never talked about it, but I’ve got my own guesses. Once you start down that road, it’s hard to turn back. Believe me, I know. She wanted my dad and her family. Grandma couldn’t understand that. It wasn’t what Riordan women did.”

  “And your mother didn’t explain all of this to you? She didn’t tell you what to expect when you moved in?”

  “No. I think she was afraid if I knew I’d want to see it for myself. She was trying to protect me.” Her mouth twisted. “See how well that turned out?”

  He glanced back at the open door to her mother’s room. “You think this was supernatural? That it had something to do with what happened to Brenda Cerrone and Alana DuBois?”

  “Don’t you?”

  He sighed. “I wish I didn’t.”

  “Me, too.” She rubbed the back of her neck again. “There’s always been some danger lurking around the family, according to Skag. He didn’t tell me exactly what it was and I didn’t insist. Maybe I didn’t want to know. And that was stupid of me.”

  “And you think that’s what hurt your mother?”

  Rose nodded. “Probably.”

  “Is there someone we could call? Someone who might be able to do something?”

  “A wizard? Like Harry Potter?” She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s that simple, unfortunately. We do need help, but I don’t know who to ask.”

  “Skag?” Evan ignored the warning bell at the back of his mind telling him he was perilously close to being certifiable.

  Rose shrugged. “He didn’t tell me before—he kept putting me off whenever I asked him. But maybe this will change his mind. You said he called you?”

  “I think so.” Evan pinched the bridge of his nose. His eyes felt like his lids were made of sandpaper. “It was a dream, though, so who the hell knows what was really going on?”

  Her gaze met his, her eyes luminous in the faint light at their side of the hall. He moved his fingers to her face, running them gently along her cheekbone. “I’m so sorry, Rosie. About what happened before. I was an asshole. I let my prejudices get in the way of what I should have been thinking about.”

  The corners of her mouth edged up slightly. “What should you have been thinking about?”

  “You. How I feel about you. How we feel about each other.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment, her breath soft and warm against his palm. “What do we do now?”

  Helen whimpered slightly, moving her head against Evan’s knees.

  “We find out what happened to your mom, and we fix it.”

  After a moment, she lowered her head to his shoulder, closing her eyes. “Works for me.”

  Chapter 24

  Leaving her parents at the hospital made Rose’s stomach hurt. Her father looked so miserable staring at her mother’s marble-cool face, like he’d aged a decade in the hours he’d been sitting beside her bed. She’d called her brothers and knew they were on the way. She also knew she’d have a much harder time leaving if she was still there when they arrived.

  Her house looked the same as always when she got there with Evan—porch light glowing in the slightly misty air, broad inviting gallery with its slatted wooden swing, fully warded door designed to keep out evil beasties. Apparently, it didn’t work as well as advertised.

  Evan followed her up the front steps along with Helen and Lenore. “Do you call him or something?”

  “You mean Skag?” She dug her keys out of her purse. “I’ve never had to call him. He just shows up when he’s ready. With any luck he’s waiting inside.”

  “Was he here when you found your mother?”

  She paused, keys in her hand. “I don’t know. I didn’t pay attention to anything except my mom. I didn’t see him, but I didn’t exactly look, either.”

  She pushed the door open and stepped to the side to let the animals in first. Helen stood in the entry hall, whimpering. For once she didn’t seem interested in charging through the house to her food bowl.

  “It’s all right,” she lied. “Just go to the kitchen.”

  Evan stepped into the living room. After a moment, Helen followed him, her tail tucked firmly between her hind legs. Lenore stayed perched on the banister.

  Rose followed behind Evan and the dog, then stood staring around the room. They were alone—no hint of Skag. Something felt profoundly different, but she wasn’t sure exactly what it was.

  “Is he here?” Evan glanced around curiously.

  “No.” She shivered, drawing her arms more tightly around herself. Emptiness. For the first time since she’d moved in, the house felt completely empty.

  Not just empty. Abandoned. Terrific. Just when she needed him most, Skag had apparently decided to go on an extended vacation.

  “He’s gone. I don’t know where or why. I’ve never had this feeling in the house before, like there’s nothing here.”

  “What do you mean ‘gone’? For good?”

  “I don’t know. But he’s not here, and I don’t have a good feeling about it.”

  “I don’t think anybody’s in the mood for good feelings right now.” He wandered slowly around the room. “When exactly did Alana disappear?”

  “Alana?” She rubbed a hand across her forehead, trying to make her sluggish mind snap to. “Right after the séance. A couple of weeks ago, I think.”

  “After you came to work for me?”

  “Maybe. It was around that time, anyway. You wanted me to find out what I could about her, and we went to Augie’s.”

  “So all of this happened after we started investigating William Bradford?”

  “Alana contacted you after you started the investigation, or, anyway, after she found out that you were investigating.”

  He sighed. “I wish I knew if that was significant.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know if it’s significant or not, but I’ve got that appointment for a private consultation with Bradford tomorrow night.”

  He stared at her for a long moment. “No way are you going to that one on your own.”

  “I don’t think they’ll let you in. It’s a private consultation.”

  “I don’t give a shit what they say, I’m going with you. If you can’t contact Skag, can you contact somebody else? I think we need more information before we go in there. We need to know if Bradford’s involved in what happened tonight, and what happened to DuBois and Cerrone.”

  She shivered. The room had never seemed this cold before. Bereft. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried to contact anybody but Skag.”

  “But you’re a medium.”

  She sighed. “I’m a medium, but I’m not a very experienced one. Skag did all the spooky stuff. I just handled the human end. I’ve never even been to a séance, except for that hokey one with Brenda Cerrone. I always told Skag I wouldn’t do it.”

  “I’ve been to a lot of them, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a real one with a real medium. We can set up the way they usually do and try it, though.”

  She shivered again. She had a bad feeling about this, but then she had a bad feeling about everything right now. “Okay.”

  He pulled Grandma Caroline’s gate-leg table away from the wall. “We’ll need a couple of chairs. And maybe a candle so we can dim the lights. Most of the mediums I saw had a tablecloth, too, but I think that was more to mask what they were doing under the table than because the spirits required it.” His mouth twisted slightly on “spirits.” Maybe he wasn’t quite as ready to believe as he thought.

  She dragged a couple of chairs from the dining room, placing them at either end of the small table. “Any rea
son you don’t want to just use the dining room table and chairs?”

  He shook his head. “That table’s too big. We need to hold hands.”

  She found a vanilla spice candle in the bathroom and brought it out. Not a great scent for a séance, but who knew—maybe they’d find a ghost who liked lattes.

  He lit the candle, then turned off all the lights except for the lamp in the corner. He sat at one end of the table, motioning Rose toward the other end.

  She sat facing him, trying not to feel stupid. You’re a medium, toots, this is what you do. “What do we do now?”

  “From here on in, we’re winging it. We hold hands and see if anybody’s interested in talking to us. Or anyway, that’s how the other mediums do it. Who the hell knows if that’s how it’s supposed to really work?” He reached for her hands, clasping them lightly on top of the table. The warmth of his skin was oddly reassuring.

  Her own hands felt like ice. “What should I do?”

  “Close your eyes and relax, I guess. See what happens.”

  After a few minutes, Rose was afraid that what was going to happen was that she’d fall asleep. The warmth of his hands, the faint vanilla spice scent, the semidarkness all combined to lull her into something like drowsiness. Even as she ordered herself to stay awake, her eyelids began to droop. Maybe if she just let go, let herself slip into a quick nap, she’d wake up refreshed and ready . . . to . . . go . . .

  The feeling that slid down to her stomach was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. It was as if her entire body had gone to sleep and awakened barbed. Pinpricks danced across her arms, her hands, her shoulders. Her hands tightened convulsively on Evan’s.

  “What?”

  She shook her head. For a moment it felt as if the hair on the back of her neck was standing straight up. The prickling chill moved down her spine, sending her pulse into overdrive.

  “Rose?” He sounded worried.