by Amy Isaman
He nodded solemnly. “Let’s go to my office then. We can start researching immediately.”
And there it was. Laurel was at his house. There was no way he’d take me to his office if she was there.
“No, not both of us. There’s not enough time. You need to go to your office. You don’t need me to do the research. I need to get my phone back from Darius in case they call back,” I lied.
“You’re right. I’ll research. We need to focus on private collections. If it was in a museum, they would have found it, if it was there. All those portraits have been thoroughly examined. And possibly Crowley’s temple. I’m going to head there now before I take you to the Inn to see if you get a hit on it and then…”
“…Right, you’re exactly right. We can do this. It’s our only chance. It’s not at the temple. I feel that. There was no temple in my dream.” I raised my voice in a panic. “This is about Laurel, Collin. I need you to do this. This card is priceless.”
“I know. That’s why I want to help you find it!”
“Good. Thank you. Then you’ll do this. I need you to go to work. Please. Drop me off right up there at that hotel. There will be cabs there, and I’ll go to the Inn and get my phone from Darius.”
“But wait. What does the portrait look like? Can you give me anything else to go on?”
I scanned my memory for the images of Crowley that I’d glanced online. “It’s darker, but he’s not old in it. Maybe in his thirties. Solemn looking. I’ll know it when I see it.”
“That’s not much, but okay. Are you sure it’s safe for you to go with him? I think you should stay with me.”
I raised my eyebrows at him. “You make it sound like he took her. But that’s impossible, Collin, as impossible as you being the kidnapper.” I gave him a tight smile and reached for the door handle. “Call me as soon as you find anything. I’m going to the Inn now to get my phone from Darius. Then, I’ll come to your office. I need your help, Collin. When you think you’ve located the portrait, we’ll go get the card. And, thank you. For everything,” I added, though those were some of the hardest words I ever said in my life.
“I’m not sure about this, Tricia. What are you planning on doing?” He leaned toward me as I climbed from the van.
I turned toward my old friend and swallowed the rage I felt toward him. “I need you, Collin, like I never have before. I need you to find that portrait, find that card. I can’t get Laurel back without it. If you find it, the right portrait, I’ll know it. I don’t know how, but I will. I’ll be at your office as soon as I can get there.”
Collin shook his head. “It’s not safe, especially if he’s got her.”
I shrugged. “I can’t help that, and I don’t think he’ll hurt me even if it is him who took her. He can’t find that last card without me. No one can. That’s why I’ve shared with you what I know.” I looked pointedly at Collin. “And I can’t find it without you. You’re the only one I trust,” I lied. “Please go to your office. Call around. Find that portrait. I’ll call you as soon as I can.” I slammed the door and hurried down the street, praying that he’d follow my instructions. I needed him to stay away from his house.
Chapter 30
DARIUS HUNG UP THE phone and stared in shock at his cousin.
She waited for a full milli-second before beginning to grill him with questions. “What? That was Tricia? Where is she? Is she coming here?”
Darius held up his hand, stopping her. “Yes, that was Tricia.” He stopped, taking a moment to process what he realized.
Susan glared at him. “And? Keep going.”
“It’s her friend, Collin, who’s got her daughter.”
“And you know this, how?”
“The man who she met in college, the one we took the letter to for a translation. He must have followed us to Aunt Irene’s house after we left his house. He knew exactly what we found when he translated the letter, but he didn’t say anything. Tricia just called me from his phone. The same phone that the kidnappers called us from when we were at the police station in Wendover.”
Now it was Susan’s turn to look stunned. “What a fucker! You say this was a friend of hers? We need to call the police then, Darius. If you know where this girl is being held, and you filed a missing report yesterday, they should act on it, right?”
“But I don’t know where he’s got her held. I just know that he’s the one who took her.”
“Could she be at his house? Or his office?”
Darius stood and began pacing across the small living room. “It’s got to be at his house. When Laurel first spoke to Tricia, she referred to her captor as ‘she’ and ‘they.’ It was Collin and his wife.”
“Yes. But she could have been referring to two men, right? Maybe this Collin fellow has a lover or a colleague who’s helping him.”
Darius shook his head. “No. It’s his wife. It has to be. She was there that morning. We spoke. She would have known about the whole thing as soon as we left, if not earlier. Who knows? Maybe this was her plan. Collin was a bit of a git.”
“Well, then, tell that to the police.”
“There’s no time.” Darius strode to his bedroom and the small safe where he stashed the cards.
“What do you mean?” Susan asked, concern in her voice.
“Tricia is on her way here. I’m going to get the girl.”
“That’s not for you to do. Call the damn police! These people are nuts.” Susan hurried after him to the bedroom. “What are you doing in the safe? You’re not really going to give them to these criminals, are you? Darius, they’re worth a fortune. It’s not worth your life.”
Darius stopped and glared at his cousin. “I’m aware. But if this was Chelsea would you have me keep them or trade them for your daughter?”
“This is insanity. Call that Constable and tell him you think you’ve found the girl, but she’s being held captive. They’ll get her. You can keep the cards, and these criminals will get what they deserve.” She rested her hands on her hips. “There. Easy as that.”
“Not really. They said if we get the police involved, they’ll kill the girl. And I believe they’ll it. There’s no time. I can get her now. If we call the police, that’s hours of questioning, search warrants. They could hurt her and dispose of her. Or they could move her.”
“Fuck, you’re such a goddamn knight in shining armor. And you’re the stupidest knight I’ve ever heard of. Call the damn police, Darius.”
Darius ignored her, knelt in front of his safe and entered the code.
Susan sighed loudly. “So, which bloody card are you taking?”
“The Tower. Have you seen it? It shows two people toppling head first into rocks. Maybe it’ll be a bit of a prophecy for these two ‘friends’ of hers.”
“You’re a fool. I can’t believe you’re not taking the damn Knight card.”
“Stay here. Call me when Tricia gets here. Don’t tell her what I’m doing. I don’t want her to come after me.” He pulled out the small leather portfolio that he used to hold the cards and opened it. Gently, he put the Knight back into the safe and locked it. He had one card left, but he wasn’t sure he wanted any of them. He’d begun to believe that his great-grandmother was correct in thinking the cards were cursed.
“And I need your car keys. I obviously can’t get Laurel home on my bike. Who knows what kind of condition she’ll be in.”
“I’ll take you,” Susan said.
“No, you need to be here when Tricia gets here.” He held his hand out for the keys which his cousin reluctantly set into his open palm. “Thanks.” He gave her a hug and a quick peck on the cheek.
Time was crucial, but the car was the slowest damn vehicle he’d ever driven. It was like driving one of the cars in the driving exhibition at an amusement park. By the time he pulled in front of Collin and Lucy’s home, he’d had time to run through every possible scenario as to how he could manage to give them one card and get Laurel free. He hoped he could pull it of
f, but it wasn’t like he had any experience dealing with desperate criminals. He gripped the steering wheel harder to still the shaking in his hands and took a deep breath as he navigated the streets.
Chapter 31
COLLIN DROPPED ME in front of a large hotel where a few lonesome cabs waited to take tourists to the nearby London attractions. But no tourists needed them this early in the morning. I ran to the first cab in line and yanked open the front passenger door, adrenaline already coursing through me.
The cabbie turned, startled. “Where to, miss?” he asked in an Irish brogue. He was young, mid-twenties. Acne scars covered his cheeks, but his smile was open and friendly.
“I need a driver for the next hour or two, and I will pay you handsomely.” I pulled my wallet for my bag and placed £200 on the seat between us. “There’s more for you if you’ll drive for as long as I need you. This is your retainer.”
His gaze shifted between me and the cash. “All right, but I ain’t breaking no laws, you hear? I got me a wee one at home. I ain’t going to the gaol.”
“Of course,” I tried to assure him. “I wouldn’t ask you to break the law. I’m an American who has lost her phone and her daughter. I need to go retrieve both of them. Can you help me?”
“Where to?”
Relief flooded me. No more questions. Finally. “I need to go to a friend’s house. I think she might be there, but I don’t want her to see me arrive. You’ll need to wait for me to come out.” I gave him the address. “And one other thing, if you see a silver minivan with a man with curly hair, kind of a hooked nose following us, lose him.”
“Got an address?” His hand hovered over the navigation unit attached to his dash. As soon as he entered it, he shoved the car into drive and took off, a wide grin on his face as he began whistling. Well, at least he was up for an adventure.
He was quite chatty, but I couldn’t focus on much of what he was saying. I caught his name, Sean, and that he had a little girl.
I turned several times in my seat but didn’t see Collin following behind us. Nor did we come up behind him. I never really prayed before this nightmare, but I found myself praying yet again. I prayed that I’d convinced him to go to his office at the university to do his research or that he’d realize I had his phone, and he’d go to the Inn to get it from me. Darius could detain him. My biggest fear was that he’d go home and be there when I got there. I prayed he believed me about the portrait, that I’d given him enough to keep him occupied to keep him hoping he could find the damn Devil card on his own. When I Googled Aleister Crowley, pages of images came up, some photographs, some portraits, some as a young man, some of him as an old man. If Collin stayed at the task, there should have been enough portraits of Crowley painted as a young man to keep him busy looking for at least a few hours. Hopefully, I’d only need ten minutes in his house to get Laurel and run.
The worst part of this whole plan was that I couldn’t warn Darius. I knew that if I called, he would want to come with me, and I needed him at the Inn to intercept Collin while I did what I needed to do. I turned Collin’s phone off and shoved it deep into my bag before leaning back and closing my eyes. I’d never been one to meditate, though Laurel tried to get me to start. My attempts would last for a few moments before my brain started racing and by the time I finished my session, I’d feel more stressed because all I’d managed to do was fret about what I should be doing rather than sitting there. But not now. I needed to center myself. I had one goal. Get my daughter and me out of Lucy and Collin’s house alive if that’s where she even was. That was it.
“We’re about there, aye. I get the feeling you won’t be knocking, so drop you off in back?”
“Yes, please. Thank you.”
“I’m fine waiting for you as long as no flatties or burnouts come by. Then I’m leaving. Got that?”
“Uh, no. As long as no ‘who’ comes?” I asked.
“Cops or addicts. This isn’t no crack house or some such, is it? You know she won’t stop no matter how many times you pull her out. My sister did it, so’s I know.”
Sean thought Laurel was an addict? I had no time to explain, but maybe this was for the best anyway. She sounded drugged on the call and she might still be when we came out. I let him think what he wanted. “I know, but I’m going to try. You said you have a baby?” I didn’t wait for an answer. “You’d do the same, wouldn’t you?”
“I suppose you’re right.” He stopped the cab. “I’ll wait right here. Go get her.”
I took another deep breath and reached for the door handle. “You can’t leave, okay?”
“Only if the flatties come and shake me off, but it should be all right. There’s nobody about.”
I wished I could leave my purse in the car, but I couldn’t let the card out of my sight. What if he left? I draped the long straps over my neck so it lay across my body and hurried to Collin and Lucy’s back door. I’d been the last one out and hadn’t locked it earlier. I hoped Lucy hadn’t noticed. I gripped the door handle. It turned. I pushed the door inward a few inches. The hallway was dark and empty, the door to Collin’s office was wide open. I stepped inside and the floorboard let out a soft sigh beneath my feet. Thankfully the house was old and broken into a series of small rooms. The only upgrade Lucy and Collin ever did was to add an elevator for David following his accident. It took up half of Collin’s small office. I needed only to reach the stairs.
I listened intently but heard nothing. Where was Lucy?
I stepped into Collin’s office. I needed to get my bearings before I went anywhere. Finally, water ran in the kitchen with the clang of a dish on the counter.
The door to the kitchen was directly across from the stairwell. I glanced over to the elevator. The thing looked ancient. She would hear it as soon as it began to move. I had to take the stairs which meant I needed to walk by the kitchen.
I stood in Collin’s office, trying not to panic. Sweat dripped between my breasts, and I had to consciously force myself to breathe slowly to avoid hyperventilating. I couldn’t sneak up and find Laurel with her in the kitchen. I didn’t think I could assault Lucy and make her take me to my daughter. Then, I heard footsteps, a slamming door, and a fan. She was in the bathroom. I breathed a sigh of relief and peeked out of the office. The hall was empty. In the corner of Collin’s office, a cane with a brass handle leaned against the wall. I grabbed it. I could take her out if she came out and saw me on the stairs.
Creeping down the hallway, I heard no noise from the bathroom. As soon as I passed the door, the sound of water running filled the old pipes as she flushed. I moved as quickly and quietly as I could to the second floor. My baby was up there. She had been the whole damn time.
I wondered where David was. He was either in the kitchen with his mother, or he was upstairs, and he would alert her if he saw me. I had not heard them speaking which made me think that he was upstairs. That meant she might be coming up to check on her son.
I reached the top step and peered down the hallway to find three doors, all closed.
“David Darling, I’ll be up in a moment,” Lucy yelled up the staircase.
I hurried down the hall before she glanced up the stairs and saw me.
More dishes clanged. I hurried toward the door that I knew wasn’t David’s and eased it open. It was Lucy and Collin’s small bedroom. The next door opened to the bathroom. I reached for the third door and yanked on it. It was locked.
I felt around the door jamb for the key. Nothing. Lucy’s footsteps came down the hallway toward the staircase. She was coming. Tears welled in my eyes, but I refused to give up. I gripped the cane tighter.
“Mum, is that you?” David hollered from behind his closed-door. Lucy started up the staircase. I hurried across the hall into her bedroom when the doorbell chimed.
As Lucy’s footsteps stopped, she yelled, “Hang on, David. Let me grab the door. I’ll be right up, sweetheart.”
“Who’s that?” he yelled, but she didn’t bother
to answer her son.
I surveyed Lucy and Collin’s bedroom. There, in a small bowl on top of an old high boy dresser, lay a key. It had to be it. It had to.
I grabbed it in my left hand and clutched the cane in my right ready to take Lucy out if I needed to and crept back across the hallway to the door. The soft murmurs of Lucy’s voice and a man’s voice floated up the stairs. Hopefully, it was a friend or even a neighbor, or someone who needed her outside.
I shoved the key into the lock. It slid in and turned easily. Relief flooded through me until I opened the door and the relief quickly turned to horror. My baby lay comatose in a twin-size bed. A blindfold covered her eyes, and an IV snaked across her body, dripping clear fluids into her arm. Oh my god oh my god oh my god. My baby.
I softly closed the door, locked it, and pocketed the key before running to her side. I ripped off the blindfold and found her eyes red and swollen. They must have hit her with some sort of pepper spray. I smoothed my hand over her eyes and cheeks. “It’s me, sweetie. It’s your mama.” She didn’t move.
I gently removed the IV from Laurel’s arm and dropped the needle. Its watery solution continued to drip from the IV, puddling on the floor. A small bag of some drug hung from the pole. Diprivan, it said. Would she sleep for hours? Awaken soon? The bag was still mostly full, but I didn’t know how much she’d had or how long it would impact her. She might have been off of it for hours or Lucy had a steady drip keeping her sedated.
I wanted to do was crawl onto the bed with her and hold her tight, but we needed to get out of here. I focused on Laurel’s precious face. She was breathing. She was alive. That’s all that mattered.