“Let’s review,” she said. “The shooting looks very straightforward. Dad and Oakes were supposed to meet Tyson outside a bar in The Point neighborhood at nine o’clock, but Tyson didn’t show. After waiting for fifteen minutes, they agreed to split up and look around.”
“According to the report, Oakes was going through a building the city had marked as condemned when he heard two nearly simultaneous shots,” Matt continued. “It took him a few minutes to find them in an alley between two tenements. He knew at first glance that your dad was gone, so he went to check Tyson. He kicked the gun clear, then pulled off his gloves and checked for a pulse, got nothing. Called it in.”
“There’s nothing about this scene that looks out of place to me,” Leigh said. “Trace evidence and DNA point only to Dad and Tyson. Oakes’s boot prints were around Tyson’s body, but he was checking for signs of life. Ballistics is clear—the bullet from Dad’s Sig Sauer killed Tyson, the bullet from Tyson’s .38 killed Dad. There are smudged fingerprints on both guns, probably from the last time they cleaned their weapons—Dad’s on his weapon; Tyson’s on the Bryco. Their winter gloves both tested positive for gunshot residue. The incident report is clear.” She shook her head in frustration. “Why is someone sending me this material? Just to torture me? Clearly it’s all here. The picture I received is part of this file. It’s not new. What am I supposed to see?”
“I don’t know. But I think our next step is to look into the case he was working on. The case that required meeting the CI.”
“I can easily get the case file. But I’m not going to request evidence for now so it stays under the radar.”
“What about talking to Oakes? Is he still with Salem PD?”
“Last I heard, yes. I thought about talking to him, but the moment I do, it all goes public. So for now, I’d like to hold that in reserve.”
“Then get that file and we’ll go through it. Maybe what we’re looking for is there.”
“Maybe.” Leigh’s voice clearly conveyed her doubt. “It may have to wait until this case is closed though.” She reached over and turned off the lamp, letting the warm glow from the fire light the room. For long moments they simply sat, with only the whoosh of flames and the crackling logs to break the silence.
Matt relaxed back on the sofa, propping his head on his hand. “So . . . I’m kind of curious about something.”
“What?”
“The whole tarot thing.”
She cast him a sidelong glance. “Why are you curious about that?”
He shrugged. “It just seems . . . interesting.”
She sat up and pinned him with a laser stare. “You’re telling me that you, the scientist, are going to believe what a random drawing of cards will say?”
“Not even remotely, I just thought it would be fun, especially after all this.” His open palm indicated the folders on the coffee table. “Come on, you said that you could do a reading. Show me.” He picked up the wine bottle, topping up their glasses. “Tell me my future.”
Leigh picked up her glass, swirling the wine inside, watching it dance in the firelight. “Just for fun?”
“Yeah.” He gently elbowed her ribs. “Come on,” he wheedled, putting on his best puppy dog expression.
She laughed, her first easy sound in over an hour, and pushed him back a few inches. “All right, you win. I just need to find my cards since I haven’t touched them in years.” After searching through several cabinets in the living room, she disappeared into the hallway beyond.
Matt propped his feet up on the coffee table, as he sipped his wine, lazily watching the flames flickering in the grate.
“Ah ha!” Leigh’s voice filtered down from somewhere over his head.
“Found them,” Matt murmured. Pulling his feet from the table, his gaze fell on the file folders. His motivation for a tarot reading wasn’t simply curiosity, it was also to distract Leigh from her father’s death. She was keeping her chin up, but the stress and sadness shone in her eyes nonetheless. Short of carrying her upstairs to linger over her in bed for several slow, intense hours—and as much as he wanted to do that, Leigh wasn’t mentally in the right place for their first time together tonight—this was what sprang to mind as a lighthearted distraction. He picked up the file folders, laid them on top of the box and pushed everything behind the couch. She’d find it later tonight or tomorrow, but for now, out of sight, out of mind.
He reclaimed his wine just before Leigh reentered the room, carrying a small box. Opening it, she slid out an oversized deck of cards. The cards were Gothic in style, the backs jet-black with a scrolling design in gold, each front bearing a stylized oracle. A parchment illustrated above each figure named it in medieval calligraphy.
Matt picked up a card entitled The Siren. On it, a voluptuous mermaid held her arms open wide in a gesture of welcome. Gold bracelets twined around her upper arms and wrists, and her long dark hair trailed down to cover her naked breasts. But her eyes were vacant and her body glowed a watery blue. “Beautiful artwork, but I have to say, this gal looks like she could steal a man’s soul.”
Leigh plucked the card from his hand, slid it back into the deck and started to shuffle. “She’s definitely trouble. She’s the embodiment of temptation and enchantment. Of foolish risk and losing yourself in another’s influence.”
“So not one you want to get,” Matt said.
“Or at least one that you want firmly in your past since I’ll be reading your past, present and future. Now, instead of the classic tarot deck, I’ve chosen a smaller oracle deck.”
“What’s the difference?”
“It’s a different form of divination but it still uses cards in the same way. It’s been a while since I’ve done this, so I thought a less complex reading might be a good idea. It can take months to learn tarot in depth and I’ve forgotten a lot over time.”
Leigh stopped shuffling and laid the first card out on the table, face down. “This is you.” Matt reached out to turn the card over and she smacked his hand. “Not yet.”
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” Matt grinned at her.
Leigh laid out a single card above the first, then below. “North and south.” On either side. “Then west and east.” She continued laying out cards until nine lay face down on the table, in a three-by-three grid. “Now we look at them one at a time. The cards are set up in three vertical rows that are your past, present and future but we’ll read through them in a specific order.” She touched her fingertips to the center card. “As I said, this card is you, in your present circumstances.” She turned the card over and laughed.
Matt sat up straighter. “What’s so funny?”
“I should have known.” She handed him the card.
Under the title The Wizard was an old man in a pointed cap and royal-blue robes trimmed with a line of Celtic knots. He stood straight and tall, a heavy staff in his left hand, the top of which formed a claw that held a brilliant blue ball. “I’m Gandalf?”
“Don’t play your geek card so early in the game. You’re the philosopher, the adviser. The practitioner of the sciences. You use your skills to help others.” She slid the card from his fingers to look at it. “It’s a good call, actually. This one is right on.”
“What’s next?”
“The north card. This one represents what you aspire to do or to be.”
She turned over the card and Matt let out a laugh. “I like the skull. Maybe it means I’ll get tenure at BU.” The card depicted a tall, slender woman in a flowing strapless red gown, delicate angel wings bursting from her back. She cradled a skull in her cupped hands, gazing at it almost lovingly. He glanced at Leigh to find her staring at the card with narrowed eyes. “What?”
“This is The Spirit. It represents your need to be a watchful protector. You protect those you hold dear, even at risk of your own life. Your students, family, friends.” She thoughtfully set the card down. “Now the south card represents your earthly present pursuits and material concerns.
” She turned over the card. In tones of orange, a horizontally bisected, upside-down triangle lay in the center of a circle marked with the names and Greek symbols for Capricorn, Virgo and Taurus. “The Earth oracle,” Leigh said. “This represents someone who is logical, practical and grounded. Someone who is always dependable.”
Matt set his glass down near the edge of the table and leaned in for a better look at the cards. “For someone who says she can’t do this, this is pretty accurate. Did you stack the deck?”
“No.” But the set of her mouth told Matt that something here was making her uncomfortable. “I’m sure the card saying that you’re a two-faced deceiver is coming up next to balance all this out.” She set the card down. “Next is the west card, the Oracle of the Past Realm.” She turned it over. A center star burned outwards in an explosion of smaller starbursts, all glowing a ghostly blue. “The Stars. They represent a great journey in your past. It could include a separation and a reunion.” She turned slowly to meet his eyes.
“My deployment overseas. Afghanistan. Separation from my mother forever, but a reunion with my father.” The words sounded clipped and distant, even to his own ears.
“You know, maybe this isn’t such a good idea. You wanted a fun diversion after a stressful evening and if it’s just bringing back bad memories—” She stopped when Matt’s fingers closed over her wrist.
“Keep going,” he coaxed. “I can handle it.”
“Are you sure? We’re getting into the future stuff now.”
“Yup. Do it.”
“Okay, the east card tells you what is to be.” Leigh took a deep drink from her wineglass, then reached for the next card. Her breath caught when she turned it over and Matt leaned forward for a closer look.
A jet-black raven with blood-red eyes sat atop a skull, its talons biting into the bone. Its wings were unfurled and the mouth was open in a silent scream of warning.
“The Raven, a creature of the shadows. The harbinger of ill portent. An omen. Darkness lies ahead.”
Ice sluiced through Matt’s veins. Darkness. Death?
A log suddenly settled in the fire with a shower of sparks, breaking them both out of their frozen stares.
Matt laughed and reached for his wine. “Look at us. We’re like twelve-year-old girls at a slumber party telling ghost stories.”
Leigh’s fingers hovered over the card, not quite willing to touch it. “This is a very dark card.”
“That was randomly drawn out of a deck. Come on, Leigh, this is supposed to be for entertainment. There’s no way a card can determine the future. But keep going. Maybe it’ll tell me I’m going to win the lottery next.”
Leigh slowly pulled her hand away from The Raven. “The northwest card. This one represents a past spiritual or romantic influence in your life.” She turned the card over.
Matt picked it up, studying it. It was entitled The Golem. On it, a knighted figure wearing burnished armor held the hilt of a mighty sword, his eyes glowing greenish-blue in an otherwise shadowed face. “Definitely not a past romantic influence. This guy looks kind of scary.”
“Actually, that’s a good card. The Golem represents a loyal friend and stalwart companion. One who will aid you in times of trouble. Unless you abuse him; then he can become the instrument of your destruction. Who in your past fits that role?”
Matt closed his eyes for a moment, then it came to him in a flash. “Of course . . . Colin.”
“Who’s that?”
“You remember that I told you about the chaplain who was with our unit in Afghanistan? That was Colin. A good man and a loyal friend. There were days when everything went wrong over there, when it felt like he was the only one holding onto our sanity. Even those of us who weren’t religious. He knew when to be a priest and when to be a friend.”
“Sometimes you just need someone to talk to.”
“Yeah.” Matt tapped the card against the flat of his hand. “I wonder what ever happened to Colin.”
“You two lost touch?”
Heat flushed his face and he fought the urge to drop his gaze. “I lost touch. On purpose. When I came back, I was busy with Dad’s rehab and, frankly, I didn’t want to think about my time in-country. So I cut all ties. Looking back, maybe that wasn’t the smartest thing I ever did. I haven’t thought about Colin in years. I wonder what ever happened to him.”
“You should look him up sometime. Maybe the VA could help you get in touch.”
Memories of Afghanistan flooded Matt’s mind like a slide show on fast-forward. Standing at the back of a full tent, eavesdropping on Mass when his spirit was particularly low, Colin in desert fatigues at the front of the group, a Navy chaplain’s stole draped around his neck. Playing beach volleyball with the men during a lull in the fighting, Colin, shirtless like the rest of them, at his side. Sitting together quietly on the edge of his bunk, grieving the loss of a friend. Colin by his bedside after the explosion.
He absently touched the tough scar tissue at his temple as if it was a talisman. “Yeah, you know, I really should do that.” Looking up, he grinned at her. “See, not all bad.”
“Good.” She took a deep breath. “The northeast card. This is a future spiritual or romantic influence in your life.” She turned the card over and then simply stared at it as a blush bloomed over her cheekbones.
Matt found himself fascinated by the warm color flushing her face, but he pulled his gaze away. “My future romantic or spiritual influence is a knight?” The card depicted a rearing stallion draped in red and gold. Seated astride the horse was a knight in full armor, wielding a sword and shield emblazoned with an eagle rising in flight. “Is he going to save me from myself?”
Leigh’s gaze stayed fixed on the card. “The Knight is the symbol of the warrior. The champion of justice and the triumph over adversity. Honor. Truth. Valor.”
Clarity slammed into Matt with surprising force. He cupped his fingers under her chin, turning her face to his. Her eyes rose slowly. “That’s you,” he said softly. “You’re my warrior.” She shook her head but he leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers briefly, feeling the soft breath of her sigh against his lips. When he pulled back, she ducked her head, but he tipped her chin back up. “You’re embarrassed.”
She pulled away from his hand and this time he let her go. “No, of course not. Why would I be embarrassed?”
“Because, as you said only a few weeks ago, you don’t do the spotlight. You’re more comfortable doing the right thing offstage than being in the limelight taking credit for it. The thought of being a knight in shining armor actually makes you uncomfortable.” Her stiff body position made him smile, but he let it go. “Okay, I promise not to tell anyone or Paul will start calling you ‘Sir Not-Appearing-In-This-Film.’ ” He chuckled when Leigh stared at him in confusion. “Forget it. I was referring to Paul’s love of Monty Python, but it went right over your head. Okay, two more cards.”
Leigh looked relieved to return to the task at hand, the spotlight shifting once more to Matt. “The southwest card—a past physical influence in your life regarding health or money.”
“Well, I haven’t won the lottery yet, so that must be in my future,” Matt quipped.
Leigh turned over the card. On it was a Wyvern—a winged creature with only two legs bearing both the head and tail of a dragon. “The Wyvern is the keeper of secrets. It can also reflect conflict or guilt.”
Matt’s smiled drained away and he shifted uncomfortably. The cards were hitting a little too close again. “Yeah, I get it. My scars. Afghanistan. Coming home and changing careers.”
“Don’t think about that card. That’s the past.” Leaning forward, Leigh tapped the Earth oracle again. “This is the card that’s more important.”
Logic. Practicality. Dependability.
“Or better yet, this card. Your future influence concerning health or money.” She flipped the final card over. A golden chalice was the centerpiece, a graceful cup embossed with delicate swirls and leaves. She
smiled and handed him the card. “The Chalice.”
“This is good?”
“Very. The Chalice represents fulfillment. Rejuvenation. The attainment of a goal and the end of a quest.” She turned the Wyvern face down and tapped the card in his hand. “Look ahead, not back.”
Look ahead.
Matt’s gaze trailed over to the two future cards sitting on the table. “I like the Knight card. I like that future. Our future.” He turned to meet her gaze. “We have a long way to go still, but I’m looking forward to the journey.”
When he smiled at her, she returned the gesture.
His gaze fell upon The Raven and his smile fell away. He reached for it. “And then there’s this guy.”
“You don’t mean to say that you actually believe this do you?” Leigh asked.
“My mind knows it’s all chance. I watched you shuffle the cards, watched you deal them out. Watched you turn over cards that somehow had meaning for me. Every single one. Sure, you could find meaning in them for everyone, I suppose. But still . . . this one. This one somehow bothers me.”
They sat, side by side on the couch, lit by the fire’s glow.
Foreboding prickled along Matt’s skin.
Darkness. An omen. But of what? Betrayal? Injury? Death?
And for who?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: DRAFTING
* * *
Drafting: using water drawn from a pond, swimming pool or other source when no fire hydrant is available.
Sunday, 2:34 p.m.
Boston University, School of Medicine
Boston, Massachusetts
Paul staggered into the lab carrying a stack of boxes which he slid onto one of the few remaining empty sections of benchtop.
“Are those the last of it?” Leigh asked.
“Yeah.” Matt came through the door with a single box and nudged the door closed with his boot. He rolled his eyes at Paul’s dramatics when the younger man slid down the wall to sink into an exhausted tangle of limbs. “It wasn’t that bad.”
A Flame in the Wind of Death Page 19