The Tao of the Viper: A Kate Pomeroy Mystery (The Kate Pomeroy Gothic Mystery Series Book 2)

by Linda Watkins

  There was a sadness in her voice and I wondered what, indeed, her life was really like.

  “But you are free,” I finally added. “Aren’t you? You and Terrance have money. You can go when and where you like. Most people would envy you.”

  I was standing beside her and saw a lone tear slide down her cheek.

  “I suppose you’re right,” she replied. “But there are things – things you don’t want to know about – things that bind.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I knew she was referring in some oblique way to the old man and his relationship with her husband. I guessed Ian was a weight on her shoulders – a weight she desperately wanted to be rid of. I was sure he was doing something to Jeremy, but what was he doing to Mary and Terrance? Perhaps it was something just as cruel – just as evil.

  We finally made it to the shore. Tired from our trek, we sat down on a large rock to rest. Mary pulled a flask from her pocket and took a long pull. She offered me a drink, but I declined.

  She drank again and it occurred to me that I’d never really seen her without a glass in her hand. Could she be a high-functioning alcoholic? It seemed likely.

  “Live your life, Kate,” she finally said. “Don’t listen to anyone. Do it your way. And, as for your man, well, don’t count on him too much. Men always put their needs first. If you kowtow to him now, he’ll always have you under his thumb. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  I frowned. “Jeremy’s not like that. We’re a team – partners in life. He respects me and I respect him.”

  Mary smiled a sad little smile. “You’re young and in love. But time has a way of changing things. You’ll see.”

  We were both silent for a moment, then Mary took another sip from her flask. “It’s not that I don’t love Terrance. I love him, probably too much. Otherwise, I would never, never…”

  Her voice trailed off. She was staring out to sea and looked to me like the loneliest person on earth.

  “What is it, Mary?” I asked softly, putting my hand on her shoulder. “Is it Terrance’s grandfather? Has he done something to you?”

  She shook her head, tears falling freely now.

  “Your nose,” I said. “You didn’t fall like you told me you did. I could tell that right away from the break. Did your grandfather do something to you? Did he hit you?”

  Mary turned to look at me, her face twisted in anger.

  “HE’S NOT MY GRANDFATHER!” she yelled. “My grandfather is a kindly, sweet old man who lives in Boston. That abomination that is living in my house and calls himself ‘grandfather’ should never have been born.”

  “Why, Mary?” I asked, surprised at her outburst. “What is it about him that makes him an abomination?”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly turned and stared at the house behind us. Upstairs, in a second-story window, stood a silhouette. The figure was not clearly discernable to our eyes, but we both knew who it was.

  “I have to go,” she said abruptly. “Thank you for this day.”

  Without another word, she stood, picked up her snowshoes, and began to run back to the house.

  She’d only gone about ten yards, when she stopped and turned back to face me.

  “Leave this island, Kate. Today, tonight. Go now and take Jeremy with you. And, tell him that this was NOT my choice. I argued, but nothing, nothing can stand against that man. Leave Storm now and don’t come back.”

  I wanted to ask her why but she had already turned away and was rapidly walking back to the house.

  Unsure of what to do, I picked up my snowshoes and followed.

  By the time I reached the mansion, Mary had disappeared inside. I tried knocking on the door, but, this time, there was no answer. I glanced up to the second story. The figure in the window was gone – disappeared – as if he had never been there.

  I walked back to my car, fearful of what punishment that old man might inflict upon Mary. I thought about going back – pounding on the door until someone, anyone, answered. But what good would that do? Mary had shut the door on her life and I sensed that she was not willing to open it again.

  I got into my car and put the key in the ignition, my mind swirling with questions. Why had she called that old man an “abomination”? And, why should Jeremy and I leave the island? Was the peril that great?

  I looked down at my hands. They were shaking. What was it about that old bastard that that frightened me so?

  I shook my head. My mission here had failed. I knew little more than I had when I’d first arrived. It was time to go home. I checked my watch. Jeremy would be at the house soon to install the chain locks.

  Feeling disappointed and terribly confused, I turned the key and started the car.

  56

  The Old Man

  HE STOOD IN the window, watching them. Their conversation was not a mystery to him. Even from this distance, he could hear every word that passed between the two of them.

  First the talisman and now this, he thought, clenching his fists.

  He focused his gaze on the back of his grandson’s wife’s head, concentrating all his power. He was gratified when she turned to face him.

  She knows, he thought.

  Satisfied that his granddaughter was returning to the house where she belonged, the old man wheeled himself away from the window, over to the sideboard where a bottle of Scotch sat waiting. He poured himself a drink and tossed it back.

  Oh, what I would do to her if I could only move, he thought, cursing his feeble body under his breath. I waited too long this time. Was it fear that kept me in this vessel so long? Is it fear that keeps me in it now?

  He poured himself another drink and, with it in hand, wheeled his chair back to the window. The beach was empty now. Mary was somewhere in the house, probably with a bottle of vodka. Where Maude Prichard’s spawn had gone, he had no idea.

  This charade ends now, he thought. Terrance must bring the subject here – to me – and I will end it one way or another. But it must be soon, very soon.

  57

  Kate

  An Invitation

  I ARRIVED BACK at the Carriage House a little before five and poured myself a glass of wine. I stirred the coals in the woodstove and added some more logs, then sat down on the couch to relax. As I watched the flames dancing, I replayed the afternoon in my mind.

  Why had Mary insisted I leave the island? Did it have something to do with the old geezer and what he was doing to Jeremy? Or could it be something else? Did she know about Vlad and his schemes? Was she the possible accomplice who’d stolen my keys?

  I shook my head. No, it couldn’t be that. Not Mary. It had to be something to do with Ian Morrison. She was obviously afraid of him.

  Thinking about the old man and the hold he appeared to have over both Mary and Terrance, I remembered some of the details from Maude’s diary. Was he really what she said he was?

  A body thief?

  I sipped my wine, going over all the possibilities.

  First, but craziest of all, was that this Ian Morrison who was living on our island was the same Ian Morrison who had abducted Maude’s child in the late 1600s. If I were to believe that assumption, then it would follow that I would have to believe that he somehow had the power to move from one body to the next, prolonging his life unnaturally. And, if he could do that, what was he? A magician? A warlock? And, now was he preparing to make another move? Into my boyfriend – into Jeremy?

  Oh, boy, I thought, chuckling to myself. That’s just plain insane. It’s gotta be something else.

  Second possibility. Ian Morrison was stark, raving mad and thought he was the same Ian Morrison who’d lived in the 1600s. Thus, he thought he could jump from body to body and was somehow manipulating Jeremy’s blood to make him his next victim.

  While much more plausible than the first assumption, that, too, sounded crazy. How could he change blood? Was he injecting Jeremy with something?

  Thinking about that possibility, I had to admit
that I hadn’t checked for needle marks when Jeremy was beset with fever. But what drug would cause those aberrations in his blood levels? I wasn’t aware of anything that could do that.

  I thought about this for a moment, wondering what practical application a drug like that might have. Not coming up with anything, I remembered how my aunt had told me that she and Raoul had started their illegal drug business by trafficking in highly experimental drugs. What if old man Morrison was in on their schemes? Could he have access to some dangerous, unproven pharmaceuticals?

  This was something to think about. I knew of no connection between the old man and my aunt or uncle, but stranger things have happened. And, through Mary and Terrance, Ian had a connection to the island. But who would be making drugs that altered someone’s blood in that way? There was no therapeutic value in it that I could see. No, like the first assumption, this one, too, just didn’t make sense.

  Third and final possibility. The old man was physically sick and contagious. But if this were true, why would Jeremy be the only one affected? Mary and Terrance were with the old guy every day and they weren’t sick. Well, at least as far as I knew, they weren’t. Could they be experiencing strange fevers, too?

  I finished my wine. This was all getting to be too much for me. It was just too crazy. Yet I had concrete evidence that something was happening to Jeremy – something highly unusual. I just wished I had a solid answer to cling to. But I didn’t. All I had were a bunch of insane suppositions.

  It was all totally implausible, yet I couldn’t deny my gut feeling that there was something terribly wrong with Ian Morrison and, because of that, it was my duty to keep Jeremy away from him.

  Deep in thought, I started when I heard pounding on the front door.

  “Hey, Katy! It’s me,” called Jeremy through the doorbell.

  I let him in and, after giving me a quick kiss, he took off his coat and sat down in front of the woodstove.

  “Boy, that fire feels good. How was your afternoon?”

  I sat beside him. “I went snowshoeing with Mary Morrison. What about you?”

  “Snowshoeing? Good for you. I worked for a while, then bumped into Terry Morrison coming back from the mainland.”

  I frowned. Always the Morrisons. “What did he want?” I asked.

  “He invited us to a party – a cocktail thing on the twenty-second – at their house. I accepted for us.”

  My mouth dropped. “Why? You know I don’t want you around them.”

  “I know, I know. But you haven’t explained why and it would have been impolite to refuse. They’re going away the next day. They’ll be gone for the winter to the old dude’s place in South Carolina. It’s sort of a goodbye party. And, it’s black tie.”

  “Black tie?”

  “Yeah, I get to wear a monkey suit. And, you, my dear, get to wear that slinky beige dress I’ve seen hanging in your closet – the one with the spaghetti straps. I think there’s also a pair of high, high heels to match!”

  “That’s my dress for New Year’s,” I replied.

  “Well, I don’t want to wait until then to see you in it! Come on, honey. How can going to Terry’s party hurt? I promise to keep my distance from the old guy. And, you’ll be there to make sure I do. We’ll just make an appearance, wish them a Merry Christmas, and say goodbye. And, you never know, it might end up being fun.”

  His good mood was infectious and I figured he was right. How could it hurt? All my suppositions about that old fart were really out in left field. My anxiety, I had to admit, might stem more from the possibility that something else was causing Jeremy’s fevers – a cause that the oncologist would ferret out in the New Year.

  “Okay, okay,” I conceded. “I’ll go and I’ll wear that dress. I have to admit I’ve been itching to get into it and into those matching stiletto heels!”

  Jeremy laughed. “Good. That’s settled. Now, where are those chain locks?”

  He installed the locks on the front and back doors and, as he worked, told me what he had found out from his brother.

  “Tom says he’s never heard of anyone hacking into the outdoor cameras, but he admits that anything is possible. He’s going to talk to the company that makes them and have them reload everything. You’ll have to delete the current app and download a new one and go through the setup process again. You’ll also need to choose a new password.

  “As for an alarm system, they’re plentiful. Tom says he’ll pick up the basics this weekend and install next week. It won’t connect to the police or fire department. That’s impossible here on this island. But it will make a hell of a noise. Also, they’ll be another app to pick up so that if we’re away and someone breaks in, we’ll be alerted.”

  I smiled. “That sounds good. I feel safer already.”

  After the work was done, we talked a lot about Christmas. I still had shopping to do and wanted to pick up a present for his parents and his Uncle Sloane. Jeremy made some suggestions, which I jotted down on my tablet.

  I already had Jeremy taken care of. I’d purchased him an Apple watch and a new coffee maker. I was spending more time at his place and the brewer he had was in abysmal shape. What he was getting for me was a mystery that none of my prodding could reveal.

  “What are you going to do with this place after we’re married?” he asked.

  I sighed. I didn’t want to give up the Carriage House. Its connections to Maude Prichard, my mother, and the silo were very special to me.

  “I think I might turn it into an office,” I replied. “You know, get a real computer, file cabinets, the whole nine yards. I might want to start to do some writing.”

  “Writing?”

  “Yeah. Stuff about practicing on a small island. Human interest.”

  “You’ll be great,” he said, smiling. “And I’ll be able to introduce you to everyone as my wife, the doctor and bestselling author.”

  I laughed. “Don’t count your chickens. Now, how about dinner?”

  58

  Kate

  The FBI - Again

  I WAS AT work when Matt called.

  “Hi, Kate,” he said. “Everything okay with you? I hope there haven’t been any more break-ins.”

  “No, there haven’t, thanks,” I replied. “We’ve got chain locks on the doors now and Jeremy’s brother is going to install an alarm system later this week.”

  “Good. Now, about the FBI. I talked to Haskell’s superior. He was steamed. Haskell’s being put on administrative leave while they investigate his conduct. Another agent named Watson has been assigned to your case. She’ll be contacting you today.”

  “She?”

  “Yeah, Watson’s a woman. Supposed to be damned good, too. I’ve never worked with her, but that’s what my colleagues tell me. She’s going to want to pick up your sugar bowl and that bottle of Oxy. You still have them, don’t you?”

  “Well, I’d thought about destroying the pills – flushing them or something. But I didn’t. And, I haven’t emptied the sugar bowl either. I am, however, using those little packets now instead of the loose stuff.”

  “Good. Let me know how it goes with Watson. I’m told she’ll be bringing a different team out to scour the tunnels, too. Keep me in the loop, Kate.”

  “I will and thanks.”

  “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  He hung up and I sat back thinking. At least I was getting a woman agent this time. Perhaps she’d display a little more empathy than that man who came before her.

  Later that same day, Special Agent Watson called and informed me she and her team were on their way over to the island. I gave her directions to Stormview and told her I would meet her there.

  Watson arrived a little after three p.m. I was with a patient at the time so Steve escorted her and her team to the second floor sitting room to wait. I joined them as soon as I was able.

  The agent was not a big woman. Petite would be the word to describe her. She had short brown hair and a no-nonsense look about her. I li
ked her immediately.

  “Dr. Pomeroy, can we go to your house? I’d like to send my team into the tunnels while you and I have a chat.”

  “Sure. That was my last patient. Just let me tell Steve where I’ll be in case there’s an emergency.”

  I talked to Steve, then escorted the agents over to the Carriage House.

  I provided Watson’s team with a map and sent them down into the labyrinth. Then the agent and I sat at the dining room table to talk.

  “First, I want to apologize for Agent Haskell’s behavior,” Agent Watson said. “It was unprofessional and not worthy of the FBI.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  “Now, tell me exactly what happened.”

  I described in detail for her the events of the night in question. I also told her what I knew of Vladimir Sokolov and what had happened between us the summer before.

  Agent Watson nodded. “Sokolov’s a slippery character and very dangerous. You were lucky to get away with your life. I’ve checked with Agent Haskell’s sources and his insistence that Sokolov is back in Russia is shaky to say the least. There is evidence that he had help from the Russian mafia to make his escape. But, that’s where it ends. My instinct tells me he had other help, too. Help from the inside.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My gut tells me someone on this island is aiding and abetting him.”

  “I’ve thought about that possibility, but who? I can’t think of anyone.”

  Agent Watson nodded. “Sokolov spent a great deal of time here before you even knew of his existence. It would make sense that he would have allies. Maybe someone he brought here who stayed. Who knows? And, if he has an accomplice on Storm Island, you have to be doubly careful.”