“Dunk them in the drunk tank, and call me in an hour,” I tell Shane. “They’d better be ready to talk by then.”
“Okay, boss. I’ve got the interview notes from everyone at the Trickvenger Hunt. Want to go over them with me?”
“Anyone know where Justin took Tami?”
“No one saw him leave the scene,” Shane says. “I collected everyone’s cell phone images in case they caught something in the background.”
“You go over it. I’m going to organize another search party. Tami could still be out there in the cold.”
“Not likely,” Shane says. “You saw the dog. She followed the scent trail until it came to where the vehicle was parked. After that, we followed the tire tracks until we lost them on the highway. Wherever she is, she’s not lost in the woods.”
“I can’t just stand around and do nothing.” My frustration boils over. “She’s in danger.”
“I put in a call for additional search and rescue,” Shane says. “They won’t be here until tomorrow morning. I’m sorry, but we need to know where to start, and for that, we need to figure out where Justin would have stashed her, if he’s the one who took her. It could still be someone unknown.”
“Then we need to follow every lead until we find her.”
“Agreed, but I’m hungry, and we have no leads right now.” Shane steps toward the doorway. “Want anything from the diner? Let’s see if Al and Dillon are ready to talk after a few burgers.”
I’m too pissed to say anything. What happened to duty and protecting the innocent? Tami is scared and lost out there. I hate to think what Justin’s doing to her. He could be hurting her or overpowering her.
She would want me to rescue her without fail, and whether Shane or anyone else helps me or not, I’m going to have to go with my gut.
As soon as Shane’s out of sight, I grab the keys to the jail and go toward Diana’s cell. Fortunately, the two drunk guys are asleep. I put my finger over my lips and unlock the cell.
Quietly, I let her put on her shoes and coat, and then we slip out the back. My personal pickup truck is parked around the corner, and fortunately, because of the snow, trick or treating is done for the night.
I escort Diana to the truck. “You better have the goods, and you better start talking.”
“I have an idea, but I can’t guarantee they’re there,” she says. “You have to keep your end of the deal, because I’m helping.”
“You can start by telling me what they planned for Tami, and it better not be another old story.”
“Oh, but it is. A very tall tale with a moral.”
Thirty-Six
~ Tami ~
The van leaves the highway and crunches over the newly fallen snow. The road is narrow and full of switchbacks, going around the sawback ridges full of tall trees. Even though the streams run east to west, the erosion caused by runoff exposes an older layer of gold that runs north to south—the legendary Mother Lode.
After every heavy snowmelt or rushing rainstorm, amateur prospectors are out in the gravel beds looking for any gold that eroded from the hillside. I’m not surprised there are private roads and trails leading deep into the forest along the smaller creeks and tributaries.
The van eventually turns up a narrow drive, winding around a large grove of trees. It drives through open wrought-iron gates decorated with the letter “W.” The gateposts are topped by fiery torches, but it’s what lies beyond the gates that shock me more.
A gray gabled mansion rises from the snow-covered hill flanked by tall trees. The building is at least three stories high with Victorian-style turrets. Most surprising of all, soft light streams from every window, and flickering oil lamps hang over the front porch. Thousands of snow crystals sparkle on the steep roof as moonlight breaks free of the mist.
“Like it, darling?” Justin’s arm around my shoulders feels like a dead weight, befitting the dead animal smell of the van’s intestinal interior. “It’s All Hallow’s Eve and the Night of Samhain, a time when the veil between the world of the living and that of the spirits is at its thinnest, and the most auspicious night for our wedding, my most beautiful of all brides.”
“Will you shut your blathering?” The guy in the passenger seat cuts off Justin’s meandering. “We need to send a ransom message to George King.”
Well, that’s more like it, I think. Of course, it’s all about money, and these two yahoos used Justin and his obsession to pull off the kidnapping. My only chance is for Justin to protect me, so I pipe up. “If we’re having a wedding tonight, shouldn’t we invite my parents? They’ll never forgive being left out.”
The driver slides the van’s door open. Thank God! I might be able to breathe after all. I let the crisp cool air of the high mountains wash over me with blessed relief.
“I’ll also need to invite my bestie, Linx Colson, to be my maid of honor. Really, Justin, dear, you should have planned this shindig better.”
“I didn’t exactly have your attention with your grand opening going on,” he mutters. “It was all I could do to lure that fox friend of yours to my hideout.”
“You mean you’re the one who took Larissa for the weekend?” I ask sweetly, now that the sweet mountain air permeates into the van.
“Yes, and you would have come willingly in exchange for her life, but your two nosy friends had to disturb my hideaway, and I had to go with Plan B.”
“What happened to Larissa?” A bolt of worry shoots through me. “Is she okay?”
I hope she hasn’t lost her sense of smell from being trapped with Justin, but then again, maybe it would have been a blessing in disguise to have a stuffy nose all weekend.
“I let her go.” He spreads his hands palm up. “I’m not a bad guy. I was only going to threaten her life, but I’m not a killer.”
“Then why did you kill Viola?” Now my voice turns to acid, because no matter his delusions, he’s not going to get away with murder.
“That wasn’t me,” he says. “And don’t ask me if I know who it is. Larissa and I were not around when it happened.”
“If you saw anything, you should let Todd know.”
He flicks a strand of stray hair from my face and smiles. “Sweet bride, don’t you worry your pretty little head. Come on in and meet your family.”
He helps me from the van onto the flagstone walkway. I’m grateful for the stretching of my legs, but I shake my hands, rattling the handcuffs. “My shoulders are sore.”
“I’m sorry about that, honey. Promise not to resist?”
“Promise, darling.” I nod, hoping he believes me, and he reaches for the keys.
“Not yet,” Driver, a burly black-bearded man, says. “Let’s get her inside before letting her loose.”
“I don’t think we were followed,” Passenger, an older man with a thick white mustache, says. “But I don’t trust her.”
Between the two of them and the thick stench enveloping them, they hog march me up the steep stone steps to the covered porch.
“Hi, my name is Tami, what’s yours?” I beam at Driver and then at Passenger while my eyes water from the mustard gas fermenting in their bellies.
“You don’t have to treat my bride like a criminal,” Justin intercedes. “Tami, these are my uncles. Doug and Bruce.”
“Uncles?” I blink at Justin. “If you had uncles, why did you have to live at a foster home?”
“I didn’t know about them until after, well, let’s go in and see your surprise.” Justin unlocks my handcuffs and points to the massive ornate double doors decorated with carvings of wolves. “I can’t wait to see you in your wedding dress. Time’s getting short, and it’ll be midnight before we know it. Besides, you have to meet my family.”
I sure hope he has air freshener inside the house. Maybe I ought to insist on incense and scented candles for the ceremony.
“My mom is going to be so disappointed to miss my wedding,” I put on a wheedling voice. “Please, Justin, can we call her to let her know?�
��
Justin removes my phone from his pocket and shows me the screen. “Looks like we’re out of luck. There are no bars.”
“We can still take selfies and text them later, can’t we?” I’m still hoping to get access to my phone. Any evidence is better than nothing, in case I never return. “My girlfriends will kill me if they don’t get pictures. Let me get cleaned up first.”
He tucks the phone back in his pocket. “You don’t need to get cleaned up. You’re perfect just the way you are.”
It figures. Personal hygiene was never high on his bucket list.
He picks twigs from my hair and licks his finger, then swipes his spit-wet finger over a smudge on my cheek.
“Do we have to do this stupid tea party?” Bruce stomps his boots behind me.
“Let’s get on with the ransom video,” Doug growls. “We’re not letting her go until the money’s in the account.”
“Hey, you guys needed my help getting the golden goose, so hold your horses and let me have my fun,” Justin says. “This is our special night, and it has to be done right.”
We step through the doorway, and I get a glimpse of the chandelier lit with candlelight, as well as the massive oak stairway with a carved balustrade. Like the doors, a series of prancing wolves are depicted on the wooden borders. The floor is parquet, and the entrance foyer or vestibule is illuminated by flickering oil lamps.
The parlor doors to the right are closed, and a crackling fire licks a pile of logs in the library on the left. Herbal wreathes and the scent of pine and cinnamon fight to dispel the distillery of male gut juice.
“Tami Tutu, ready for Mooma Belle’s Tea Party?” Justin finger combs my hair, tugging out the tangles, then kisses me on the lips. I try not to cringe, and I keep my mouth firmly closed, tucking my lips back as much as possible.
He opens the door to the parlor and pushes me through. It’s dark inside, with only a shining crystal ball giving light. Gentle mists of essential oils bubble from a cauldron hanging over an open fire, but as grateful as I am for olfactory relief, my apprehension escalates at the ghostly sight before me.
A figure stands in the shadow, dressed in a furry black costume. White-gloved hands extend from the costume, eight in total. Two of the hands are moving, gesturing a welcome to me, and the other hands are stuck in various angles above and around her.
“Welcome to my tea party, sweet Tami Tutu.” The melodious and deep female voice draws chills down my back.
It’s impossible, unless Mooma has a twin sister.
“Do you remember me?” Her two moving hands swirl over and around the crystal ball. “I missed you so very much.”
Justin gives me a gentle push forward. “Go ahead, don’t be afraid. You were her favorite.”
I look back at him. “I thought she passed away.”
“As you can see, I’m here, alive and well,” Mooma says. “Welcome, sweet Tami Tutu, to my tea party. Shall we sip a merry cup?”
I’m frozen to the spot, observing her movements. She seems real, and her voice is definitely familiar.
She lights a circle of candles, one by one, and her features come to life. Older with more wrinkles, and her nose is thinner, but the eyes, the dark-brown eyes with barely any white around the edges take me in, drawing me down a deep pool so that I feel like I’m drowning.
I gasp, sucking in a noisy breath of air, and put my hand over my chest, hoping to calm my spasming heart.
“Do you have anything to say to me, Tami Tutu? Before you marry my son?” Mooma’s voice takes on the mesmerizing quality that always drew me to her. “I forgive you for poisoning me. Are you happy to see me?”
“Yes, I am,” I mutter. “I’m so sorry, because I didn’t mean to poison you.”
“I know you didn’t, but you were careless. Do you remember the big chestnuts you found in the yard?” Mooma’s teeth gleam sharp inside her wide mouth. “Remember what I told you?”
I nod, stunned that she has a pile of horse chestnuts in front of the crystal ball. Why is she rubbing my face in my mistake? She was the one who told me to collect them to make chestnut tea. If she had roasted them and then ground them up, how could it have been my fault?
“I now know that horse chestnuts are poisonous. But I didn’t know back then.” I cover my mouth and blink back tears. “Were you very sick? Did you almost die?”
From the corner of my eye, I notice the red light of a video camera recording all of this.
Mooma comes around the table. She’s wearing the same furry spider costume she wore on that fateful night, including the blue gingham apron. She’s even painted her nose black to make it look like it doesn’t exist, and she has black triangles underneath her eyes, sort of like the greasepaint football players use.
“They say horse chestnuts keep spiders away,” she says. “Were you trying to get rid of me? Or maybe you were jealous of Bum-Bum.”
“No, I liked you and Bum-Bum. I missed you.” Especially since her Bum-Bum didn’t fart so much back then thanks to her healthful cooking.
“That’s good, because we’re going to all be together from now on.” I flinch when she cups her white-gloved hands around my face. “Dear little Tami Tutu. Your father knows the price he has to pay to keep you out of prison. He also knows how close he came to losing his daughter.”
I blink at her, wondering exactly how her threats could compel my father to pay.
“I was only a child,” I explain. “Certainly, no one can say I mixed horse chestnuts into the tea maliciously.”
She kisses my nose and grins. “You might not have had a motive, but your father had good reason to knock me out—maybe not enough for a lethal blow, but enough to do mischief.”
I push myself away from her embrace. “My dad doesn’t even do tea parties. He was busy at the barbecue pit. How can you make baseless accusations?”
“He knew what was growing inside of me, and he didn’t like it.” Mooma gestures for me to take a seat in front of the dark wooden table.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Although I can guess the implications, now that I’m older.
Mooma waves her hand, and the parlor door opens. “I’d like you to meet someone, and then you’ll understand everything.”
Whoever is recording the video is still holding the red light steady, but my eyes are glued to the doorway.
A holographic image flits toward me—ghostly and pale. She’s me when I was ten, twirling around in a frilly white dress.
The image comes closer, almost to my face. I reach for her, and my hand goes through the hologram. She stares at me, unseeing, and then she smiles, big and wide, but her nose remains pinched and sharp.
“That’s not me.” I touch the wide nose I got from my mother. “She’s got my father’s narrow nose.”
“She’s beautiful like you,” Mooma says. “Cara, my dear, come in and meet your sister, Tami.”
A young girl crosses the threshold. She’s wearing a lacey dress that has a full skirt. White ribbons are woven in her pale-blond hair, and her eyes are as blue as a crystal ocean. She’s holding a bouquet of white roses.
“Welcome home, sister,” she says, curtseying. “I’m Cara King. I’m glad you’re here because now you can play with me, and we can be together forever.”
The bottom drops from my stomach, and I swallow to keep the bile from rising in my dry throat. She can’t be real, this apparition.
And then, she touches me. Her hand is clammy and cold, and I half jump out of my skin.
“Does my father know about her?” I glance at Mooma who nods.
“Your mother doesn’t know,” Mooma says. “As long as your father keeps paying, she won’t ever know.”
“Justin, did you know?” I put a hand out to block his video recording. “You let me think all these years that Mooma was dead.”
“She was dead to me,” Justin says. “She left me in town so everyone would believe she was dead.”
“That’s not fair to
you. Not at all.” I touch his arm, and he’s shaking. “Why would she do such a cruel thing to you?”
“She had to protect Cara,” he says. “She didn’t want anyone to know about this place and how your father was paying Mooma’s old friend, Bill.”
“You mean Sheriff Bill Weaver?” The light bulb flashes in my head. “Didn’t he recently pass away?”
“He did,” Justin explains. “And your dad decided to stop paying because we can’t find the evidence Bill hid.”
“Was Viola digging for that evidence?” My heart is thudding like a rattling skeleton knocking in a grave. “Is that why you killed her?”
“I already told you I didn’t kill her.” Justin grabs my hand too hard. “It’s time to marry me. Since your dad won’t pay for my sister Cara, he’ll pay for my darling wife, you.”
“Not until you drink this cup of tea,” Mooma says, handing me a steamy cup of dark murky liquid.
Thirty-Seven
~ Todd ~
Diana and I get into my truck. I start it and say, “Where to?”
“Let’s drive around some,” she says, shrugging as if she’s on a lazy Sunday afternoon date.
“Which direction? Or I’m putting you back in jail.”
She sighs and shakes her head. “It’s just a hunch, but we should go toward Rainman’s Falls.”
“Why?” I nevertheless turn the truck that direction. It isn’t too far from Miss Laverne’s place, and she did report a mysterious visitor.
“I don’t know for sure, but the boys talk about a haunted house in the hills. You’ll think it’s crazy, but Justin says he’s part of a wolfpack. I know it’s pretend, but they have some seriously cool costumes. I bought the mask and furs you saw me wearing from them.”
“Did they say where this house is located?”
“I only heard about it recently,” she replies. “Apparently, Justin isn’t the orphan kid we thought. He found some uncles who’ve been taking him out hunting.”
“Did Dillon and Al go along with them?”
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