Eye of the Beholder

by Shari Shattuck

  Her breath was coming quickly, and she reached for her lighter to light a candle. She flicked the tiny wheel with her fingers, but even as the lighter sparked, she felt the burn on her forehead and called out, dropping the lighter to the floor as she pressed both hands to her face.

  It was coming—it was almost here—and she knew that Joshua could feel it too. Greer reached out and snapped off the light in the windowless room. She sank quickly to her knees and tried to focus in the darkness on Joy, on what might be happening to her.

  But all she could see was Joy’s face with a ring of fire around it, with black slashes stabbing at the flames, not yet piercing through them, but striking them repeatedly.

  With all her might Greer focused on the bracelet that she prayed was still on Joy’s wrist. She envisioned it filled with water, frozen water, icy cold. She directed the cold at the flames, and tried hard to focus on easing the heat, on forcing back the portents of violence and death.

  But still they came.

  Chapter 56

  He ran his hand under the back of her bra and then grabbed it and twisted hard, ripping it. The girl cried out and lost her balance, falling forward onto the sofa.

  He stood and looked impassively down at her. Something he hadn’t expected came into his thoughts: He shouldn’t do this quickly. She knew him—knew his name, where he lived; it wasn’t like before. She knew him too well for him to let her go, and he might as well draw it out and enjoy it, because afterward, instead of him disappearing, he would have to make her go away.

  He had intended to burn the mark onto her tonight, but a different sensation came over him now; his need to do it seemed to cool, and he felt that he could wait.

  Looking down at her white skin and the small of her back, he felt a pleasing sense of proprietary power: She belonged to him. This body was his to do with as he pleased.

  Until he was done with it. And what then? He would have to get rid of it. Glancing out the window as this thought passed through his mind, he almost laughed. This whole area was at the edge of a gigantic national park. He would drop it off somewhere that it wouldn’t be found for a long while, maybe ever. But first he needed a way to transport it that wouldn’t cause any suspicion.

  He laughed again. It was really so easy. On reflection he had all night—hell, all week, if he wanted it. Being a neat, efficient person, he decided that first he’d go get what he needed. Plus, he had an appointment to see someone else.

  He put her back in the closet, where she slumped against the side of the wall as he closed the door. Then he checked himself in his hall mirror before he went out.

  As he started the truck, he thought of the one other thing he wanted to do first, one other item that couldn’t be ignored. He would attend to that, and then he’d be back.

  Chapter 57

  When Leah left the bank at four thirty it was already growing dark; as though to meet the evening’s formal dress requirements, the sky was cloaked in clouds. She found the directions to Jenny’s house in her coat pocket, but when she looked for the card with her home information, thinking to call and see if she could bring anything, it didn’t seem to be there.

  Oh, well, she must have put it in her purse or a different pocket. She’d stop and pick up a bottle of wine—she could use a drink herself.

  She pulled into Burman’s liquor store and bought the only two decent merlots she found nestled amongst the blackberry wines and Hennessy. She toyed with the idea of cheese and crackers, but the expiration dates were too far gone to make them an acceptable hostess gift.

  When she pulled up in front of Jenny and Lewis’s house, Leah experienced a fleeting moment of jealousy. The house was small, without much pretense or yard to speak of, but it was charming and warm and well kept. It was a home where two lovers lived.

  Leah’s sigh came out as a sustained melancholy note. She went to the front door and was surprised to find a note. Come on in, I’m making dinner! it read. Leah glanced around the tidy little neighborhood, feeling more and more comfortable. It must be nice to feel so safe that you could leave a note like that pinned to your door.

  “Hello!” Leah called out as she came through the front door into a cozy living room. A fire burned in the small brick fireplace, and two mismatched but obviously comfortable armchairs shared the space around it with two rocking chairs.

  “Hello?” Leah called again. Straight ahead she could see through an opening into the left side of the kitchen, and she heard what sounded like a radio playing some salsa music, and water running in the sink.

  She set down her bag, pulled out the wine, and headed for the kitchen. “Hi! I brought some . . .” The words died on Leah’s lips as she saw Jenny lying facedown on the linoleum floor of the kitchen.

  Before she could scream or rush to Jenny, a hand clamped over her mouth and the bottles of wine fell with a crash to the floor. The neck of one of them broke, and the violet liquid made a glug-glug noise as it spread across the white floor.

  “Don’t worry; she’s just taking a little nap. But don’t you make a sound,” the Rattler’s hated voice whispered in her ear. “Or I’ll kill her.”

  Chapter 58

  The last customer had departed, and the only people left in the salon besides herself were Dario and Jonathan. Greer had pulled herself together enough to get through the rest of the day, though with a horrible sense of impotence. The fact was, there was nothing more she could do for Joy except hope and pray, and to sit doing only that would have driven her insane.

  So she stayed as busy as possible, but her distraction had been evident, and Dario had kept a wary eye on her all afternoon.

  As Dario was letting Jonathan out the front door, they shared a concerned look and a quick, back-slapping hug before Dario locked the door behind his assistant. He was about to turn away when Sterling appeared on the far side. Dario let him in, grateful for the interruption. He’d been planning on spending the evening trying to divert and comfort Greer, and he didn’t have much hope for it being a night of light, entertaining repartee.

  “Hi,” Sterling said, looking almost apologetic. “Any news?”

  “Nothing good, if that’s what you mean,” Dario told him, cutting his eyes meaningfully to where Greer was standing. She was staring toward the back of the salon with a look of utter distraction on her face. The two men approached her cautiously.

  She started when they drew near her, and in answer to Sterling’s gentle, “Hello,” she turned and said, “Leah’s in trouble. I’ve got to help her.”

  “Nice to see you too,” Sterling half joked, but he could see that she was disturbed. The name Leah, however, was new to him.

  “I thought the girl’s name was Joy.”

  Greer’s face tightened into a painful flash of a grimace. “It is, but there isn’t anything I can do for her; or rather, I’ve already done everything I can. But Leah is another friend of mine, and she’s in danger too. Possibly the same danger. It feels very similar, and”—she looked eagerly up to Dario—“I know where she is. I know where she’s supposed to be anyway. If we can find Leah, maybe we can find Joy too.” Her voice was very cautiously hopeful, as though she were afraid to entertain any of that emotion in case it might be too shy and leave the party.

  “Can you call her?” Dario asked, while Sterling stood there feeling as though his head had come off and was spinning around somewhere about a foot and half above him.

  Greer nodded, and with an empathetic glance to the obviously confounded Sterling, she pulled out her address book while summarizing her conversation with Jenny from that morning. First she called Leah’s home number. There was no answer. The number listed as her cell phone produced the same lack of effect. Next she called Jenny’s, hoping that Jenny would tell her that Leah was safe. This time she got an answering machine.

  As each number rang and there was no response, the spooky feeling of imminent danger grew in Greer. She hung up the phone and looked up with a pale face at her partner.

&nbs
p; “Okay,” Dario said decisively, “here’s what we’re going to do. You’ve got both their addresses?” Greer nodded and handed the address book over to Dario. He reviewed them as he spoke. “Give me the Thomas Guide under the counter, would you?” He flipped through the map book to the page displaying the Shadow Hills area as he spoke. “We could call that pleasant detective and tell him to stop by.” Greer’s face told him all he needed to know about that suggestion; she had nothing to tell Sheridan except that she had a bad feeling about somebody else. “Okay, so that leaves us. I’ll go to Leah’s house,” he said, tracing a street on the map with his finger to find the address number, “because that one seems more ominous, deserted, dangerous, that kind of thing, and I’ve always fancied I was a bit Bond. And you go to Jenny’s, which is in the Golden Oaks subdivision on what is probably a nicely lit cul-de-sac and where her husband will most likely be home protecting her. Okay?”

  “Nicely lit cul-de-sac, my ass,” Sterling jumped in. “She’s bloody well not going anywhere without me.”

  Dario and Greer turned to stare at him. He looked back, his determination turning ever so slightly into embarrassment. “What else am I going to do? Head over to the pub for a relaxing pint?”

  “No,” said Greer in a slightly awed voice. “I suppose not. I’d be glad of the company. Thanks.”

  “Right, then,” Sterling said, shifting into his naturally commanding gear. “Get your mackintosh and get in the car.”

  Chapter 59

  It was a full quarter of an hour before Joshua could find the strength to raise himself off the floor in the darkened hall. Unable to return to his room and its view of Joy’s empty bedroom, he stumped heavily down the stairs and turned on all the lights in the kitchen.

  He moved with a surreal, heavy-liquid feeling, as though he were made of mercury. Wondering if he’d be able to get up again, he sank into a chair and sat staring at the table.

  Useless, he thought. I’m useless.

  He might have remained there all night, or at least until his mother returned, but he was called out of his despondent reverie by the sound of raised voices outside. Summoning the superhuman strength it required to lift his leaden head, he looked out the window toward Joy’s house, where the cars were parked in front of it.

  Mostly he could see his own reflection, but the exterior lights on Luke’s porch gave him a view of three people. Two were obviously Luke and Whitney, the former standing with his arms folded tightly over his chest, and Whitney with hers thrust deep into the pockets of a cardigan sweater. The third person was the chunky female he’d seen from his window before, and it was her voice that was doing the shouting. Puffs of steam—or maybe was it smoke—spit from her mouth and hung in the air to illustrate her verbal affronts.

  From this distance, Joshua couldn’t make out what she was saying, but the tone sounded harsh and accusatory. As he watched, the woman moved toward Whitney and got right in her face. Whitney diverted her head slightly but Luke placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder and pushed her gently away, placing his body between his wife and the stranger.

  Even from here, Joshua could make out the smooth, commanding timber of Luke’s powerful voice. The woman was being told to keep her distance, to calm down.

  Joshua’s heart twisted like a wet rag as he watched Luke’s noble stance. Erect, proud, even in his pain and his crippling situation, he remained stoic and strong enough to appear stable when others were snapping and lapsing into indulgent hysteria. As Joshua looked on, he acutely felt his own deficiencies. He had neither stoicism nor strength. He had nothing to offer anyone. Had his mother been here, he would have begged like a baby for her to support him in his need and pain.

  Somewhere between his reflection and the image of the three discordant adults, a fifth figure materialized as though etched on the glass—or rather, as though the glass contained all the world outside, much like a snow globe, and she floated freely in its clear essence. Joshua knew her now. Sarah seemed more frantic than before as she gestured urgently. She pointed to the left, and Joshua saw three images: the oak tree, a set of keys, and a motorcycle. Sarah shook the keys and pointed at the other two objects, which flickered in and out before him, like a weak slide show on an uneven surface.

  He sat forward and tried to study them. “I don’t understand,” he whispered to Sarah. “I found the tree, but I don’t understand.”

  She beckoned to him, as though asking him to come with her. That was when he noticed that she appeared to be just over his own dirt bike. Then she was gone, and the trio’s confrontation outside had subsided into low, murmured voices.

  Was it his motorcycle she was referring to? What could that mean? That he was supposed to ride it somewhere? Joshua got up and paced the floor, his head so filled with churning thoughts that he felt his skull would crack open and spill its contents onto the kitchen floor.

  Gradually one thought came to the front: He wanted to help Joy, and a blind, stumbling effort would be better than doing nothing, than not trying, and hating himself for the rest of his life.

  Chapter 60

  Vince kept one strong arm around Leah’s neck with his hand clamped over her mouth as they drove in his Hummer the fifteen minutes to the dark road where he lived. She’d never been to this house, which he’d bought since the divorce—hadn’t ever wanted to go—and she certainly didn’t want to see it now.

  The fact that he was making more money than he should was apparent the moment it came into view at the end of a long drive. As the electric gate closed behind them, a package of muscle and teeth shot at the truck, snarling and lunging at the tires.

  Finally Vince released Leah, and she pulled away from him disgustedly.

  “What did I tell you—is that a fine animal or what?” Vince flashed his own white fangs at Leah. “You might want to stay with me while we go into the house, and I don’t really recommend stepping outside unless I get ahold of him.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you,” Leah said defiantly.

  Vince reached into a compartment in his door and drew out what Leah recognized from her many movies as a Glock semiautomatic pistol. “Oh, I think you are.”

  He opened the door on his side and snapped a loud “Hold!” to the pit bull, who stopped snarling, but seemed barely able to contain himself. Vince reached in and, grabbing Leah by the arm, dragged her down out of the Hummer and then walked her up onto the porch and into the house.

  It was large, made of pine and stone, with a vaulted living room and lots of leather furniture. Everything was in its place; it had the look of a showroom ready to be photographed. He took Leah to the sofa and ordered her to sit. She looked around the room as inconspicuously as possible, checking for exits. There were two doors. She guessed that one led to a hallway; the other seemed to be a closet of some kind.

  It had a lock on it. She could only guess what skeletons Vince kept locked up in his closet.

  Chapter 61

  Greer tried to call both Leah and Jenny several more times as Sterling drove toward Jenny’s neighborhood, but they got no answer.

  “Here it is,” Greer said as she read off the address on the mailbox when they pulled up in front of the neat little Craftsman-style house.

  The cell phone, still clutched in Greer’s hand, rang, and she yanked it open. “Yes?”

  “It’s Dario. I’m at Leah’s house, and there’s nobody here. No cars, no pets, nothing. I walked around the house, shone my flashlight in windows, knocked. It’s empty.”

  In spite of the fact that she’d expected it, Greer’s heart sank. “Okay, thanks. Would you mind going to my house and staying with Joshua until I get back? I know this isn’t easy for him either.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking. Have you guys seen anything?”

  “We just pulled up, and there’s two cars parked out front. I’ll call you back in a little while.”

  Dario wished them luck and signed off.

  Sterling had come around and opened Greer’s ca
r door. He took her hand as she climbed out and didn’t let it go as they went up the walk.

  They got to the front door and knocked. The house was cheerily lit but silent. They knocked again and waited, but there was no reply.

  Greer looked questioningly at Sterling, who tried the door. Locked.

  “I’ll go look around the side,” he told her. “You stay here in case someone comes to the door.”

  Greer nodded, infinitely grateful to lean on his capable strength. She watched him disappear through a garden gate and then strained to see through the leaded glass inserts on the door, but could make out only a distorted image of furniture and a small fireplace.

  “Greer!” The shouted cry came from the side of the house. Startled, she quickly traced Sterling’s footsteps and found him struggling to force open a window. Leaning around him she saw Jenny on the floor. She was stirring, trying to sit up with one hand clutching her head.

  “Hold on, hold on!” she said when she managed to focus on them. “Don’t shout; my head’s about to come off.” She got to her knees, then her feet, and, supporting herself with the kitchen counter, she moved to the side door and unlocked it.

  Sterling stood back for Greer, who rushed in and put an arm around Jenny’s waist, taking her weight and helping her to a kitchen chair. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know, exactly. But I’m sure as shit gonna start locking the front door.” Jenny groaned and put her head down. “Uh, I don’t feel so good.”

  Sterling had gone to the freezer and filled a dish towel with ice. He pressed it gently to the place where she was holding her scalp. “Are you going to be sick?”

  “Maybe. No. I don’t think so.” Jenny groaned again and then squinted up at them as though the light hurt her eyes. “Where’s Leah?”