by Davis, SJ
“You’re sure you’re okay with this, Selene?” he asked, his voice growing serious.
She smiled and kissed him. “More than okay. I’ve got you. How could I want anything more?”
“I’m glad that you feel that way.” He placed his hand over hers and squeezed her fingers. “So you won’t be upset when I tell you that I’ve decided to extend my lease?”
“Really?” She rose onto her elbows and cocked her head. “For how long?”
“The owners agreed to let me stay until the end of December. As long as we have no major snow storms between now and then, I’ll be here until the new year.” He lowered his eyes with uncharacteristic diffidence. “Perhaps, when it gets colder, you’ll consider moving in with me. Keeping two cabins warm seems like a waste of effort when we’re practically living together as it is.”
Lena worded her answer carefully, trying not to sound too eager. “That sounds like a practical thing to do, Odin. Maybe at the end of October?”
“Good,” he said, throwing aside the sheets and pulling on his pants. “After that, we’ll head overseas! Now that we have that settled, I’ll take an hour to paint.”
“Would you like me to pose for you?” she said.
“You’re tired. It’s been a long day. Perhaps tomorrow.”
“No, I’m fine. You were right, talking about Annie helped. Please…I’d like to.”
He nodded. “It will be a full moon tonight, so you’ll pose as your namesake, Selene, the Moon Goddess of the Greeks. She’s the lover of Endymion, known also as Pan, and is most commonly seen riding a horse. I think, though, for this painting, I shall place her upon a great ox.” He smiled. “First though, I have something for you.”
He reached for his shirt, checked the pocket, and pulled out a black velvet box. She took it from him with trembling hands.
“Go ahead,” he said. “Open it. I’d like you to wear them tonight when I paint you.”
Lena raised the lid and gazed eagerly at its contents. Inside, nestled in white silk, lay a sickle-shaped pendant of shiny gold. A crescent moon. Beside it, golden stars dangled from tiny golden chains. Earrings.
She raised shocked eyes to his face. Odin smiled down at her, his expression indulgent. “They’re small tokens of my great affection for you,” he said. “Go ahead. Put them on.”
Obediently, she plucked the delicate chain from its nest and allowed him to fasten it around her neck. He worked the clasp and turned her to face him as she pushed the earrings through her lobes.
“Perfect,” he said, “They’re beautiful. You are beautiful.”
And then, bending to kiss her, he uttered the three words that she’d been longing to hear since the day that they’d commenced their affair.
“I love you.”
***
It had to be a coincidence. Surely there were two such pendants. There were many of them…stores full. And the earrings? Dozens.
Lena straddled the four foot ladder – her ox - in the middle of her meadow with her hand to her neck, fingering the gold filigree. The moon was pale and full overhead, so bright that Odin hadn’t bothered with flashlights. He’d draped her in a white sheet that flowed around her like a robe. Her hair was loose, hanging over one shoulder to her waist; her right arm was raised above her head. In the finished version of his painting, he’d told her, the ladder would be replaced with an Ox and her empty fist would clutch a torch.
The minutes turned to hours. Lena held her position, shifting occasionally as she tried to put the pendant from her mind. There were hundreds of them, maybe thousands.
When he was finally through for the night, he waved her over to join him. She stood before the painting as her likeness stared back, pale and ethereal, her dark hair darker than the night against the white of her skin and robe. He’d roughed out the shape of the mighty Ox beneath her. She could almost feel its power as it moved through the moon-drenched meadow with her legs clasped around its back. In the background of the painting, the goddess’s lover, Pan, watched from within his sheep’s wool disguise. His body was grotesque, misshapen; his face was Odin’s.
“How do you like it, so far?” he asked.
Lena swallowed and turned away. “It’s great,” she lied. “Perhaps your best, yet.”
Predictably, he was keyed up. He put away his brushes, eager to consummate the relationship between the moon goddess and her consort. Lena followed him inside and lay beneath him, feigning her responses to his ardor for the first time since they’d begun their affair, the pendant cold against her skin.
“He’s not married, he’s gorgeous and he’s great in bed.”
Annie’s words repeated themselves as Odin made love to her.
“He likes everything that I do: hiking, hunting, and fishing. We’ve sworn to keep our relationship secret. I’m in love with him, Lena, and he loves me, too.”
“I love you, Selene.” Odin quivered and lay still, holding her against him. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she whispered softly. It was true; she did.
He sighed and rolled away. Five minutes later, his light snores told her he was asleep. Lena prayed to join him in oblivion, but lay awake for hours as her mind worked overtime. Finally, as Breakneck Ridge came to life under the first rays of the sun, she fell into exhausted slumber. Her last conscious thought was: how did Odin know that Annie was a blonde?
When she awoke it was after ten, and Odin was gone. The golden moon lay between her breasts like an anchor, reflecting the sunlight. She traced its lines with her fingers, recalling the look on her best friend’s face as she parted her blouse to reveal the precious gift.
“Dear God, Annie,” Lena whispered, “what happened to you? And what in hell’s name have I gotten myself into?”
Rising at last, she pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt and took the stairs to the first floor. The cabin was quiet and empty. Odin had left a note on the table and a bowl of fresh fruit in the refrigerator. She sniffed it and put it back, over-tired and nauseated as she picked up the note and read his words. Gone into town. Be back this afternoon. Love, O. Placing it between the pages of her book she went to the window, her hand returning to her neck. His kayak was gone.
The water was cool as she waded out and slipped into her own kayak. Paddling against the wind, she pulled up to the far side of Blackwater Pond and sat, listening. Except for the wind in the trees, it was silent.
“Odin?” She waited by the dock and called his name a second time. There was no answer. Stepping onto the shore, she walked around the side of the cabin. The Forerunner was gone. Lena retraced her steps and stood before the front door. After another glance around the yard, she climbed the steps to the porch and peered through the window. Inside, everything was neat and orderly. She tried the door. It was locked.
Leaving the porch, she circled the cabin slowly. If the necklace was the same one that Annie had worn, it could only mean one thing. She shivered, remembering the painting of Artemis that he’d shown her on her first visit to his home. The likeness to her friend had been uncanny. Was it just a coincidence? She tried the windows on the ground floor but they, too, were tightly latched. Frustrated, she retreated to the dock and turned to stare at the building. She was still there a minute later when the thumping began. It came every few seconds, like the thud of wood against the ground. Lena felt the hair on her arms rise; it was coming from the bunkhouse.
Without stopping to think, she crossed the small yard and tried the double doors on the front of the building. They, too, were locked. Inside, the noise continued. Warily, she circled the building. The shed had no windows on the first floor, just a tiny vent beneath the rake boards. A second door on the back side was boarded shut. Frustrated, she pounded on the wall. A thud from within answered her.
“Selene? What are you doing?”
She spun around, heart fluttering wildly. Odin stood behind her, so close she could smell the coffee on his breath. There was no sign of his truck.
�
�I came to see if you’d left yet,” she stammered, backing away from the door. “I need you to pick up some eggs for me.”
“They’re on my list.” His eyes narrowed as he frowned. “Why are you over here? Did you think I was in the bunkhouse?”
“There were noises coming from inside,” she said. “I thought…I thought…” She shrugged. “I don’t know what I thought.”
“Ah, yes, noises.” He smiled and took her arm, leading her toward the dock. “A raccoon got in there last night when I left the door ajar. I was afraid it might be rabid so I shut it in. I’d planned to shoot it when I returned from town.”
“Where’s your truck?” she asked.
“I left it down the driveway. I forgot my key to the gate and there’s no place to turn around. I could have backed up, but it was quicker to walk.
“I keep doing that too,” she said. “Forgetting my key.” She wiped her forehead; it was covered with cold sweat.
“Would you like to come with me, now that you’re up?” he asked.
“No, I didn’t sleep very well last night. I think I’ll go back home and take a nap. I’ll see you later?”
He nodded. “I’ll bring the wine.”
She walked to the dock as he entered the cabin and returned to the front porch, gate key in hand. With a wave, she pulled into deeper water. Halfway across the pond, she rested her paddle across the bow and looked back. He remained just as she’d left him, standing silently on the porch, gazing at her kayak as it drifted toward the far shore. When she pulled up in front of her cabin, she looked back again. Odin was gone.
Lena let Zephyr out and stood for a moment, lost in thought. After he’d taken a lap around the meadow, she loaded him into the Jeep and headed out the driveway.
There were some things she knew for sure, she told herself, as she made her way to the main road. Number one: Annie had met a new man whom no one else knew about or had seen. Number two: She’d received the gift of a crescent moon and earrings made of gold from her mysterious lover shortly before her disappearance. And number three: She’d disappeared without a trace until the random discovery of her body in the Greenville landfill.
Lena added to the list reluctantly. Fact four: Odin had known that Annie’s legal name was Diana. Five: He had known that she was blonde. Six: He’d painted a portrait of the Goddess of the hunt that looked amazingly similar to her. And, finally, fact seven: He’d given Lena replicas of the gifts Annie’s lover had given to her just before her disappearance.
Was it all just coincidence?
Turning right on the Barrows Falls Road, she headed toward Dexter, the Grocery Barn, and Maeve. Maeve, with her pretty face and flirtatious demeanor. Maeve, who’d thought that she and Odin were siblings. Maeve, she thought. If the answer to her questions was anywhere, it lay with her.
When she reached Dexter, she parked in front of the grocery store and grabbed a basket, walking through the aisles and selecting items from the shelves at random: a jar of peanut butter, a plastic jug of Gatorade, some green grapes, a paperback novel. At the front of the store, Maeve was at her usual place behind register three. Lena perused the tabloids and stepped into place when the line was gone.
“Hello again. Maeve, isn’t it?”
The girl recognized her immediately. “What did he forget this time?”
“Uh…these.” Lena held up the bag of grapes and smiled. “He was here already then?”
The cashier frowned. “He just left, not fifteen minutes ago.”
“I was over at Reny’s,” Lena said. “I must have missed him in passing.” She pulled out her bankcard and swiped it through the machine.
“Credit or debit?” Maeve asked.
“Debit, please.”
The cashier punched in the appropriate key and leaned back against the register while Lena continued the transaction. “Dylan tells me you’re leaving soon,” she remarked.
Lena glanced up, surprised. “Yes,” she said. “It’s the end of the season. Time for me to go home.”
Maeve smiled, cat-like. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Sure.”
“He’s going to invite me up to your place when you’re gone.” She played with a lock of blonde hair, twisting it around her index finger. “He says he wants to paint me.”
The words sent Lena’s world crashing. Maeve’s voice echoed as her face splintered into pinpoints of light. She swayed, clutching the conveyor belt as sweat broke out on her forehead.
“Are you okay, Rhiannon?” Maeve left her post and slipped around the register to put a steadying arm on her shoulder.
“I’m okay,” Lena managed. “I just felt faint for a minute.”
“Here, sit down and I’ll get you some water.” The girl helped her to a bench and hurried off.
Lena closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She wiped the sweat on the sleeve of her shirt and waited for her vision to clear. “Thank you,” she said when Maeve returned, a cold bottle of Poland Springs in hand.
“Are you okay?”
“I think so…my blood sugar must be low. I haven’t eaten yet today.”
“That happens to me sometimes, too. Be careful when you go to stand up…that’s when it really catches you.”
“What did you say before?” Lena asked. “About going up to his camp?”
Maeve frowned. “He said that he wants to date me,” she repeated.
Date me, not paint me. Lena shook her head. She’d misheard. Taking another sip of water, she studied the girl for a moment. Maeve wore her blouse one button too low and her skirt too short. There was nothing really inappropriate about it; it was just a hint to the suggestive side. Her hair, like her tan, appeared to be straight from the bottle. She was pretty, it was true, but in a tawdry way, Lena decided. One that screamed trash. Odin was a man with refined taste, she told herself. He would never stoop to dating such a girl.
“So, Dylan asked you up to the cabin,” she said. Somehow the words left her mouth sounding normal.
Maeve smiled. “Yes. You don’t mind, do you?”
She shook her head. “He wants to date you?”
“He told me he’s wanted to ask me out for a while, but he was waiting for you to leave first.”
“When’s he taking you up there?”
“This weekend. He said you’re leaving on Thursday so any time after that’s fair game.”
“Thursday,” Lena repeated dully. “Did he say where I’m going?”
Maeve cocked her head. “Are you sure you’re alright, Rhiannon? You don’t look so good.”
“I’m fine,” Lena insisted. “Actually, I should get going. I have a lot to do today, and sitting on a bench in the Grocery Barn won’t get it done.”
“Have a good trip home,” Maeve said. “Maybe I’ll see you next year, if things go well.” She winked.
“Maeve,” Lena said carefully, “I know that this is none of my business, but isn’t my brother a little… old for you?”
Maeve’s friendly manner fell away like a second skin. “You don’t approve, I take it?”
Lena shrugged. “It’s not that I don’t approve, it’s just that you seem like you could have your pick of any guy in Dexter. I’m surprised you’re interested in Dylan.”
The cashier smiled again. “Why would I want any of them? You probably don’t see it because he’s your brother, Rhiannon, but Dylan’s a very attractive man. He’s got class and maturity. So what if he’s older? I prefer older men. They’re more experienced.”
“How old are you, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Twenty-one.”
“Really?”
Maeve blushed and looked away. “Okay, I’m twenty.”
“Maeve,” Lena said softly, taking the girl’s arm, “my brother’s twice your age. Are you sure it’s such a good idea for you to begin a relationship with a man his age?”
“Too late,” Maeve said with a shrug. “It’s already started.”
The faint feeling returned. Lena clos
ed her eyes until it passed. “You and my brother have…?”
“Not yet,” she said. “But soon. I feel kind of funny talking about it with you, though, you being his sister and all.”
“I understand. I feel the same way.” Lena gathered up her bags. “I guess I should get going. Thanks for taking care of me and good luck with Dylan.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Lena smiled and nodded. “Fine. I’ll just sit here a minute more.”
“Bye, then, Ms. Anderson,” Maeve said, heading across the floor to her place behind register three. “I’ll see you next summer.”
“See you.”
Anderson. Dylan Anderson. The cashier’s words jogged her memory. The name of the man that Annie had said she was seeing was Anderson. Not Dylan, but something equally uncommon. Anderson. Lena shook her head; how could she have forgotten? It wasn’t a difficult name to remember, particularly since Odin’s last name was Andreassen… Anderson. She began to sweat again. Could Odin be Dylan? Could he have been Annie’s mysterious lover as well? Was it possible?
Possible? It seemed more probable than possible. Sickened by the thought, she started the Jeep and headed back toward Blackwater Pond. If Odin had been Annie’s lover, had he killed her as well? It was a likely jump to make.
His paintings. The answer was there somewhere. If Annie had indeed been his lover and his victim, she’d find it in his artwork. She had to see the paintings again.
Chapter 33
When Lena made the last turn into her driveway, she was surprised to find another car parked before her cabin - the gold Chevy Suburban that Alex had purchased the year before with his first big advance. She slowed and pulled in beside it as she glanced around with dismay. There was no sign of her husband, either on the dock or in the meadow. Removing the bag of groceries and releasing Zephyr from the back, she headed for the cabin.
Inside, Alex and Odin were seated across from each other, Odin in the easy chair, and Alex on the couch.
“Alex,” she said, dropping the bag onto the kitchen table as she turned to face him. “What are you doing here?”