Deadly Violet - 04

by Tony Richards

  “You’ve been okay otherwise?” Lauren asked. “You’ve been managing without me?”

  “Give or take a siege or two.”

  She didn’t know what I meant by that, and a line appeared across the bridge of her nose. But then something else occurred to her, and her face took on an urgent look.

  “How’s Saul doing?”

  It had obviously been bothering her since she had left, which told you what kind of person she was.

  “He’s fine,” I told her.

  And saw her expression brighten.

  “He came out of the coma several months back,” I explained. “Had problems with his memory at first. But he’s fully back to strength.”

  And Lauren’s smile was huge and genuine when she heard that.

  “That’s terrific. Big relief.”

  But then she stopped and tightened up. Because Cassie had gotten to her feet as well, and was staring at her wordlessly.

  Lauren shot a glance across and greeted her with, “Hey.”

  Then looked away again.

  Cassie’s face was very stony, and the color had drained from her cheeks.

  “Lauren?”

  The lieutenant’s gaze swung back in her direction, but with both her eyebrows raised.

  “Lost the suedehead hairdo, I see,” she remarked.

  And she was about to look away again, when Cassie broke across.

  “You might not believe this, but I’m glad that you came back. I never got a chance, last time, to apologize for … what happened.”

  We’d become so close down the past couple of years that I could feel her awkwardness and pain as though they were my own. ‘What happened,’ indeed.

  The last time Lauren had been here, Cass – under the influence of the Shadow Man – had tied her up and left her in the forest at night for the animals to find. And a couple of them had done, shortly before I’d gotten to her. There’d been bloody scratches on her face, and Lauren had been terrified. It wasn’t really Cassie’s fault – she literally hadn’t been herself. But it had been an awful incident, one I didn’t care to think about too much.

  But Lauren remembered it only too well. How could anything different be possible? Her eyes widened slightly, and her face went stiffer.

  “It wasn’t your fault – I get that. So forget about it,” she replied.

  She said the words mechanically, without a hint of passion.

  No one could blame her for feeling that way. She was only human, after all. But Cassie’s eyes went slightly damper.

  And that was something that practically never happened. I gawped at her, astonished. You can usually find her picture in the dictionary, next to the term ‘hard-nosed.’ Apologetic simply ain’t her style. And by the way the rest of us were looking at her, everybody understood that.

  But I thought that I could see it. Cassie can be difficult sometimes. She’s more rough edges than a lump of coal, and can be stubborn and pig-headed and sarcastic. But she’s basically a decent person who has helped a lot of folks. What had happened in the forest … it might not have been her fault, but it had still taken place. The guilt at what she’d done was weighing down on her appallingly, and she was struggling to find the right words to express it.

  I watched her lips keep trying to move, wishing I could help her. But she was going to have to do this on her own.

  “Ross told me how brave you were when Hanlon’s demons started coming through,” she said. “And you saved his life on Union Square – I know that. If there was any way that I could turn the clock back … any way to make things right ...”

  Lauren glanced across at me, wondering how genuine this was. And when I pursed my lips and tipped my head, she appeared to relent. Her features slackened and her frame lost its rigidity. And, after a bit of thought, she shook her head and let out a soft sigh. And then she reached across and laid a hand on Cassie’s shoulder.

  “Why not put it all behind us and make a fresh start, okay? You don’t hogtie me any more, and I won’t point my gun at you.”

  Which she’d done when they had first met. Hell, it hadn’t been the best of starts.

  “Is that a deal?” she finished up.

  “You mean it?” Cassie asked.

  Well …” Lauren looked uncertain for the briefest moment, but then nodded. “Well of course I mean it.”

  Cassie beamed, and reached across and hugged her, so hard that Lauren almost started gurgling.

  “Let her go,” I muttered, although I was smiling. “She thinks you’re trying to kill her again.”

  “Oh, sorry.” Cass released her. “Thanks for your help, by the way. Again.”

  Lauren just stared at the ground.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “So what now?” Cass inquired carefully. “You’re headed back to Boston?”

  “Anxious to get rid of me?”

  “That’s not what I meant,” my friend came back, sounding slightly hurt.

  The homicide lieutenant nodded, and then gazed out at the far horizon.

  “I don’t think I’m driving any more tonight. The roads are frozen over. And besides, by the sounds of it, I might be needed here.”

  She was planning to see this through, precisely like the last time that she’d been here. And that made Cass look happier than ever. It gave her a proper chance to make amends.

  “You can stay at my place, if you like.”

  Lauren looked across at me again, and I tipped my head a second time. And it looked like that was going to seal the deal. They were no longer enemies.

  At which point, Willets cleared his throat.

  “Now that we’ve decided we all like each other,” he asked, “can we get in out of this damned cold?”

  Privately, I felt relieved by the arrangement Cass had made. It meant that Lauren didn’t have to bunk down at my house again. And it wasn’t that I had any problems with her. Actually, it was the opposite … I liked her far too much. We’d gotten on really well the last time that we’d been together, and had found out that we had an awful lot in common. Added to which, she looks remarkably like Alicia, my missing wife.

  Who I’m hoping is still out there somewhere. Who I’m still hoping to find some day. And that being the case, emotional involvement with another woman – it isn’t impossible, I’d never say that. But it’s far too complex for a fellow like myself. I prefer to keep my eye on one particular ball.

  If Alicia was out there somewhere, then my two missing kids might be there with her. And I never let myself forget that.

  But that was half hope and half speculation. And it was important, at this time, to keep my focus on the present.

  The bunch of us wound up at Martha’s house. Despite the fact she comes from money, it’s a homey, comfortable place. By this hour, every cop on duty in Raine’s Landing had been alerted to the situation and been told to call in anything suspicious. So I kept my cell phone on, in case Saul felt the need to get in touch.

  We gathered around Martha’s dining table. She disappeared into her well-stocked kitchen, and came back ten minutes later with a casserole she’d heated up. It was beef bourgignon, which I’d never had. It looked great and smelled terrific. And Willets started tucking into great big mouthfuls of the stuff. But the rest of us, myself included, didn’t have an appetite and largely prodded at it with our forks.

  Martha served red wine as well. And I kept taking little sips, trying to figure out why some people made such an almighty fuss about it. I’m a beer guy, not the least bit used to other stuff. So maybe that explains what happened twenty minutes later.

  Between bites, Willets was filling Lauren in on the specifics of what was happening. And she was listening intently, taking everything in. But she was punctuating most of what he said with grunts or sighs or comments. And she’d done a lot of that the last time that she’d been here.

  “This goddamn town,” I heard her mutter.

  Then, a few minutes later, “I don’t know how you stand it.”
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  And in spite of the fact I liked her, I was starting to get angry. She was talking about the place where I’d been born. I’d grown up here, and spent my whole life in among its people. I’d become a cop when I’d turned twenty with the specific intent of protecting them. And the last couple of years, since I had left the force, I had done nothing but.

  “Monsters and more monsters,” I heard Lauren groan.

  And I’d finally had enough.

  “You seem to forget something.” I said loudly, leaning across the table at her. “We might be trapped here by the curse, but we still get the news from the outside world. And the last time I looked –”

  And I jabbed my finger at the darkness out beyond our borders.

  “- there were whole nations out there being ruled by monsters. They sit in grand palaces, and call themselves presidents and generals, but they’re real live monsters all the same. That doesn’t bother you?”

  Lauren looked surprised and opened her mouth to respond, but then her eyes went glassy.

  “There are death camps out there,” I went on. “Massacres and genocides and ethnic cleansing. Wars being fought for no good reason, and people starving in a world full of food. And you think this place is scary?”

  “And it gets worse,” I continued, before she was able to respond. “By my understanding, there are people out there – ordinary folks – who think it’s a terrific idea to go at each other like wild animals over which country you come from, what language you speak, what color your skin is, which altar you worship in front of. How does that make any sense? People here don’t give a damn that Lehman’s a few shades darker than the rest of us. We judge him by who he is and what he does.”

  Willets looked embarrassed, but that didn’t stop me.

  “And no one in this town has ever hurt the Levins, much less tried to wipe them out.” My voice was rising as if it had a will of its own. “What kind of diseased rat has to crawl inside your brain for that to start looking like a good idea?”

  I should have slowed down. Part of me knew it. But a storm had been unleashed inside of me. I simply couldn’t.

  “And I’ll tell you something else,” I almost bellowed. “Sure, things get bad round here from time to time. And when that happens, we have to turn around and fight. But at least we know exactly what we’re fighting for. And how many people from your ‘normal’ world can say that?”

  The whole table had fallen silent. Not a rattle. Not a peep. Everyone was staring at me wide-eyed, even Cass. I wasn’t really known for letting rip with noisy, angry sermons.

  Lauren looked like she was trying to think of an appropriate response, aware this was the first time she had genuinely upset me. But the only thing that she could manage, in the end, was to pinch her lips together and then whistle gently.

  “That was quite a speech,” she murmured.

  And how long had I been preparing it? Most likely, my entire life.

  “I always knew that he was that way,” Lauren said, when Cass finally let them into her house.

  Cass had returned on her bike and Lauren in her Ford, so this was the first chance they’d had to talk privately.

  “Capable and measured,” the lieutenant smiled, “but with a fire burning underneath.”

  “He’s a good guy through and through,” Cassie agreed, flipping on a light bulb. “Why else do you think I’ve stuck with him?”

  Lauren took in her surroundings. As she’d expected, they were rather pokey and in slight need of repair. But then, so was her apartment on the edge of Boston Chinatown. The place was untidy but essentially clean, which told her Cassie kept her housework to the necessary minimum, the same way she did.

  The door closed behind them, shutting off the freezing draft.

  “Have you ever …?” Lauren asked her.

  “That? With Ross?” Cass shrugged off her jacket, and then went to a panel and switched on the heating. “I’ve thought about it sometimes, sure. But we respect each other too much. And bumping body parts, it would be …” Her nose wrinkled. “Inappropriate. Not to mention weird.”

  “I wouldn’t mind,” Lauren grinned. “I’m sure he’s attracted to me.”

  “Yeah, he is.”

  Which took her slightly aback.

  “Oh?”

  “But mostly because you remind him of his wife. You look exactly like her.”

  “Oh,” Lauren repeated, rather more disconsolately. Then she thought the matter through. “She’s been gone for more than two years, hasn’t she? And he’s never … in all that time? Isn’t that a little odd?”

  “I’m pretty certain there was one occasion,” Cassie told her. “Some kooky, yellow-haired hippie type. The guy’s only human. It was just a one-night stand.”

  “Grounds for hope, though.”

  “Depends what you’re hoping for,” was Cassie’s response. “If I were you, I’d avoid making any long-term plans. Ross is a straight arrow, and he wants his family back.”

  They chatted for a while more. And then Cassie glanced at her watch, noted the late hour, and yawned and stretched.

  “I’m beat. And you must be too. Thanks again for helping out.”

  “Stop that.”

  “You take my bed. It’s through there,” Cass said, pointing.

  “Seriously?” Lauren asked.

  “I’ll take Kevin’s. I don’t mind.”

  She was referring to her eldest son’s, and went off through into a room filled with model airplanes and posters of jet fighters.

  She called out “Night.” And then there was the creaking of springs. Then utter silence.

  “Cassie?” Lauren whispered.

  She stuck her head around the doorway. Cass had curled up, fully clothed, on a bed far too small for her and gone dead to the world immediately.

  How could anybody fall asleep so fast with all this going on? Lauren peered at her, bewildered. And then – tired but very much awake – went through to the living room. She pushed a light switch, but the dimmer was turned down, the bulb only glowing weakly.

  But she saw next second she was not alone. There was someone else here, standing in the room’s far corner.

  Lauren jumped. Then jumped a second time when she realized that he was merely a faint silhouette. A tall and handsome man, about her age, with fair, shoulder-length hair.

  What was he, some kind of phantom?

  The apparition glanced at her surprisedly. Said, “Oh. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Then it disappeared. And thankfully, did not come back.

  Lauren slumped against a wall, her heart pounding double-rhythm. Whatever that had been, it appeared to be harmless.

  And besides, this was her own stupid fault, wasn’t it?

  No one had forced her to spend another night in this place.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Still wide awake an hour after that, Woodard Raine paced through the corridors of his enormous mansion. The entire place was pitch-dark, as usual. There were certain things he had come not to trust. Electricity. Cell phones. Firearms. Other people’s magic. And wide open spaces most of all. Oh yes, those especially.

  It was called being ‘agoraphobic,’ and was supposed to be a sickness, but Raine didn’t see it entirely that way. He had everything in this house, physically, that he needed. And if he wanted anything more, why then, he could simply conjure it up, or send Hampton to fetch it.

  He was unbothered by the lack of light. His huge golden eyes made sure of that. His poor manservant had to make his way around by means of lamps and candles, but Raine wasn’t encumbered in the slightest. And as for sleeping, time meant very little to him. He simply grabbed a few hours shuteye whenever he felt the need. He didn’t even use the house’s numerous bedrooms any longer. Just suspended himself horizontally in mid-air, and picked up forty winks like that.

  It was far more comfortable than a mattress. More people should try it.

  Antique furniture went by him, huge porcelain vases. There were old oi
l paintings and antique weapons on the walls. Occasionally, he’d pass by something he’d created. A medium-sized sculpture of a centaur, for instance. It looked like it was made from ice, but was actually static water, held in place by a spell he’d cast. And he was very proud of it.

  He came, at last, to a room chock full of statuary. Marble figures stared at him, and motionless gray horses reared. When his parents had been alive, most of this stuff had been dotted around the manor’s extensive gardens. But Raine had decided it looked much better in here.

  A huge bay window gave a fine view out across the grounds. Woodard picked his way over to it before stopping, lost in thought. The moon was out. In its light, with snow covering everything, it was practically as bright as day out there. You could see in clear outline the tangled jungle that his gardens had become. He thought he caught a glimpse of something doglike moving through the undergrowth. Heaven only knew what that might be – there were so many strange creatures roaming around his grounds.

  Then Woodard lifted his gaze to the stars.

  He had a secret. Only Hampton knew it. For the past few months – since the summer, in fact – there’d been occasions when the inside of this house, to tell the truth, had left him slightly weary on a deep down level. Sure, there wasn’t anything he couldn’t get. But he was quite a spiritual type of man, and there were times when material stuff was not enough.

  True, he could reach out with his senses, find out what was happening in the rest of town. But that was living life vicariously, wasn’t it? There needed to be something better.

  And a while back, he’d found the solution. People didn’t know this, but he sometimes liked to read. The house had its own massive library, mostly compiled by his father and grandfather. And, perusing a novel by Jack London, he had come across mention of a phenomenon called ‘astral projection.’

  It involved separating your conscious spirit from your body and then launching it out through the heavens. And had sounded so intriguing that he’d decided to have a go.

  And, good gravy, it had worked! He’d been nervous initially. But freed from the shackles of his bodily form, his agoraphobia had vanished as though by – well – as though by magic. His spirit had been liberated as it soared.