He sighed. There was no use going over this again. He barely could stay awake, his brain hurt from hypothesizing about motives and facts of the case. Better to head back to Sal and Janet’s for a beer and a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow, he’d think of something.
He pulled out onto the private drive and headed back towards town. If Abbey knew either of the Reisners, she would have met them through the aunts. How did the aunts know them? The locals assured him that the ladies rarely socialized outside the elaborate fundraisers and altruistic work that made the Bastille so beloved. None of them could remember a single time that the locals went into the mansion except for the yearly Faires. Even then, the locals kept to the money-making jobs running food booths, selling goods, or acting as entertainers. There had to be a connection. There had to be something he was overlooking. As he stopped for the red light, Mathers groaned and rubbed his eyes. Maybe this was one time where his innate curiosity was not going to do him any good.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the Dairy Queen. Just what he needed—a peanut buster parfait. He swung into the parking lot, steered the car into the first vacant stall, and headed into the building. “Detective Mathers?”
He spun towards the voice.
“Miss…Swanson, right?”
“Just call me Lynn.”
He hadn’t seen Lynn since he interviewed her last week. At that time, she darted around a crowded office, stepping over piles of manila folders while clutching a huge Starbuck’s cup. She looked haggard and tired, her hair pulled back into an oily ponytail that she tried to hide under a faded Red Sox baseball cap. She seemed hesitant to talk, as if one slip of the tongue would damage a career or get her fired. He chalked it up to her job. It couldn’t be easy being someone’s shrink and walking a tightrope between the desire to help and confidentiality issues. He found himself taken in by her childlike franticness and pure honesty. He doubted there was a mean bone in her body.
Today, however, she looked spectacular. Her freshly washed hair lay primped against her head and she wore a tailored dress accented by black high heels. Her eyes darted no more. Instead, they pierced through him like lasers and he found himself becoming the frantic one with eyes darting everywhere. Damn! He really needed a good night’s sleep. He was a mess. He looked into her eyes and nodded. Had she always been this much of a knockout?
“Lynn,” he said, trying to sound calm and avoid staring at her chest. “Nice to see you again.”
“Yes,” she giggled nervously. Too many Starbucks? “How is the mystery going?”
He shrugged. “Still a mystery.”
She laughed and pulled at her necklace. “I was wondering…”
“Yes?”
“I was wondering…did you ever interview Abbey? At the Bastille?” “Why do you ask?” Man! This woman had some high cheekbones.
She shrugged and looked around her with jerky, almost paranoid, movements. “Just curious. You know…if things looked…normal there.” “Normal?”
Her eyes darted around the parking lot. “Well…I see unusual things in my line of work.”
“I bet.”
“The last time I was there…the air seemed…tense.” She coughed a cough meant to consume time, not clear the throat. “As if...”
“What are you trying to say, Miss…,” he caught himself, “Lynn?”
“What’s your opinion of the relationship between Abbey and the aunts?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Please don’t.” She dropped the formality and stared at him, her hand on her hip. “Please don’t answer my questions with questions. I’m a therapist. I can do it better than you.”
He laughed and shrugged. “Occupational hazard.”
“I would like it if someone else noticed an odd relationship between the family members.”
“Would you care to elaborate?”
She shook her head. “Occupational hazard.”
“Understood.” He stared at her. Were her eyes always so blue? “Yes. The answer is yes, it seems like an...unusual relationship.” She nodded. He continued with, “and there’s no need for you to worry about speaking with me. I realize you are in a unique predicament with your job.”
She grinned. “All right then.” She took a spoonful of her sundae and a drop of it dribbled on her chest.
“Careful. Awfully nice dress. Your dessert is spoiling it.”
She swallowed. “Not dessert. I’m on my way to dinner.” She toasted him with the sundae. “I’m starving, but I don’t like to eat too much when I’m on a date.”
“Ah, that’s the secret.”
“Little-known fact about women.” She ate another bite of the ice cream and threw the rest away. “Nice seeing you again. I have to hurry.
Robert will wonder where I am.”
He nodded. “That’s my uncle’s name, Robert.”
“Really?” she asked, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. “Do I have parfait on my face?” He shook his head and she looked relieved. “Well,” she cleared her throat, “’bye now.”
He followed her with his eyes as she got into her car and laughed as it backfired twice before turning over. When she shuddered out of the parking lot and onto the street, he decided that she needed a new clutch. And a boyfriend with a different name. He never liked the name Robert.
His Uncle Robert was a jackass.
41
When Robert saw the upstart detective drive away down the private road, he crawled down from his hiding place in the trees. He looked at his watch. Damn. He hadn’t expected to be here this long. It was a simple job: go in, retrieve the piece of hidden Tapestry, and leave. The only acceptable deterrent would be meeting Abbey. Otherwise, he had dinner reservations with Lynn and he would have to rush.
He dashed to the far side of the clearing to an ancient oak tree which stood on the easternmost side, its two immense trunks splitting just above eye level. The darkening sky didn’t slow him down, as he knew this tree well and could easily make out the black ridges of the hollow crevice in the fork of the split.
His fingers closed around the fabric hidden within and he tenderly withdrew the rolled up piece of Tapestry. The last time he ventured into the Bastille, he used his dagger to hack away a corner piece of one of the panels in a spontaneous act of desperation. Despite the fact that he now had a spy within the walls of the Bastille, each time he trespassed onto the grounds, the percentages of being caught grew. With this stolen panel, he could get inside without being detected.
He unrolled the fabric and scrutinized it in the fading light. Perfect! Exactly as he had left it. The two feet by two feet section held four embroidered memories, two of them his and two of them the Doctor’s. After years of study, he had mastered the magic necessary to access and separate these particular memories from any other memory of the Tapestry—a forbidden and difficult feat. But due to the winter’s flooding, the Faire was being moved to this location and the oak had now lost its allure.
From behind him a dog growled. Then another. Then a third and fourth. Robert slowly turned to face Tomyris’ Salukis staring at him.
He froze.
He lifted one foot. The dogs stood up. He lowered it. They sat down. He pulled the knife from its sheath. So be it—man against beast.
Suddenly, they scattered into the darkness. Robert took off like a shot, running towards the road. He was almost through the clearing when the first dog attacked. His left leg disappeared from under him and he toppled onto the moist ground. Instantly, a second dog sank its teeth into his right leg. Before he could react, a third clamped down on his left sleeve. He wielded the dagger in his right hand, stabbing blindly, but the mongrels stayed out of range. He felt himself being dragged backwards by the two creatures on his legs, while the third tugged him to the left.
He flailed wildly, and he felt a mouth loosen around his left ankle. He kicked upwards and felt his foot connecting with the jaw of one of the dogs. He felt the thing release his leg and he tucked it under hims
elf protectively.
“NO!” he screamed, thrusting out with the knife toward the flurry of fur and fangs. He felt the blade piercing flesh and one of the mongrels howled in pain. With renewed vigor, he slashed at the air. With his free leg, he kicked towards the Saluki holding his other ankle, and heard the CRACK of bone and a frantic yelping. As if on cue, they released him. He flipped over, lifted himself onto his knees, and found himself staring at one of the dog’s hindquarters. Before he could react, it lifted its leg and let loose with a stream of urine that soaked his hair, rolled down his neck, and saturated his shirt. The smell struck him like a brick and he choked back a gag as he felt droplets of the dog piss coat his lips. He jabbed out with his knife and felt it sink into the soft tissue of the animal’s underbelly. Another loud whimper shot through the dark as he jumped to his feet. Wiping the liquid from his face, Robert limped towards the road, digging into his pocket for his cell phone.
This was quite enough. Being attacked, then pissed on by dogs was the last straw. They had to die. While he was at it, he’d kill that bitch Tomyris as well. She was a terrible lay anyway.
42
“Where are those dogs?” Tomyris asked, fingering the feather in her hair. “They always come the first time I call.”
Fred shrugged. “How’s Abbey?”
“You mean besides fainting every time she begins to remember something? Just dandy.” Tomyris whistled again.
“She’ll come around.”
“We’re running out of time.” Tomyris spun toward him. “She didn’t remember you. The plane is here—she didn’t remember it, either. Hell!”
“Boo reports that the yellow police tape is down. The area is ready for the Faire.”
“You better inform Livia. Goddess forbid, one of us plebeians talks to the public.”
“I will when I go inside.”
Tomyris reached into her pocket and withdrew a wadded-up napkin and revealed its contents. “Want a cookie?” He shook his head. “Pumpkin square?” He waved it off. “An oatmeal bar?” He thought a minute and took the oatmeal bar.
“I’ve been asked to leave,” he said. She looked away quickly before replying weakly, “I know.”
“Eleanor thinks it would inhibit Abbey’s memory to keep me around. She’s afraid if Abbey does remember me, the shock of recalling the crash will…”
“I know. Eleanor told me.”
He nodded. “I’m leaving in the morning.” She whistled for the dogs again. “I won’t be here for the Ritual. You know what that means.”
She nodded. “You can cross over next year. What’s a year to an Immortal?”
Fred nodded and chewed on his oatmeal bar. “I need a rest. It’s been almost a hundred years since I returned to the Tapestry.”
She touched his hand tenderly, then jerked her head towards the woods. “Here they come.”
“They’re carrying something.”
“Something’s wrong.”
They stepped towards the animals as the dogs raced out of the trees and headed for Tomyris. Two of the beasts bounded ahead, growling playfully, but her eyes were glued on the other two. They hobbled slowly, each dragging a leg behind them, their heads hanging. “They’ve been injured. Stab wounds.”
“I’ll call for the others,” Fred said, heading for the mansion.
43
Lynn knew she shouldn’t have ordered the third Lemon Drop; she always became instantly stupid when she drank too much vodka.
“I think you have a marvelous sense of humor,” he said, turning his perfectly formed, perfectly colored eyes to her.
“Well…” she said before she burped loudly. She jumped and covered her mouth. “I am so terribly sorry.”
“For what?” Robert asked. “It is I who should be sorry. Was it not I who arrived late?”
“Only half an hour,” she said, waving him off. “I’ve waited longer than that.” She didn’t add ‘for less of a man’ like she wanted. Even though her luck was taking a turn for the better, she still knew that discretion was the better part of valor.
“I want to prove how truly sorry I am for my ill manners,” he said, placing his hand upon hers.
Lynn flushed. His moves were kind of cliché, but his timing was perfect.
“I see you need another drink,” he said, waving down the waiter.
“Oh, no, I shouldn’t,” she said. He flashed his mouthful of even, white teeth and she felt herself blush. “Well, are you having one more?” He nodded. She sighed and said, “All right then.”
“Very well!” He motioned to the waiter. “After all, you’ve had a horribly taxing week.” He leaned back, letting her hand fall to the table with a thud. “It must be difficult seeing Abbey again.”
“How did you know I saw Abbey?”
“Just a guess.” He winked. “I understand, believe me.” He shot a glance around and leaned forward. “Those aunts of hers…” He rolled his eyes.
“I know!” Lynn leaned in. She really shouldn’t be talking about this, but he was family. Perhaps he had some insight to the situation that might help Detective Mathers with his investigation. If Abbey was being abused or tortured, shouldn’t the uncle be able to provide some evidence? Maybe he could provide a safe place for Abbey to stay.
“Were they always…this way toward Abbey?”
He bowed his head. Abbey reached across and took his hand and he looked up at her. A single tear rolled down his cheek.
“It has only gotten worse since she began remembering…” he stopped himself and hiccupped back a sob. Lynn gripped his hand tighter. His face froze. The poor man looked terrified. She squelched the urge to wrap her arms around him. “You know…all of it….”
“No, I don’t know. I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Abbey told me nothing.”
He lowered his head and sniffed. “Then Abbey didn’t tell you about…her life…before The Meadows.”
She leaned in and lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper. “The last I heard, she hasn’t remembered a damned thing. That’s why I think the aunts are…you know…doing what they’re doing.”
He looked into her face, his lips turning upward into an enthusiastic grin. “I know she would tell you if she did. You’re such a great comfort to her, Miss Swanson.”
“Lynn.”
“Certainly.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “Lynn.”
He caressed her hand, applying gentle pressure to her joints. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax into his touch.
“Your Lemon Drop?”
Lynn pulled her hand away from Robert and took the drink. Without looking at him, she downed half of it in one gulp. “Now, where were we?”
“I’m sorry, but I really must take this.” He jumped up from his chair and stepped away from her, opening his cell phone which Lynn never heard ring. After a brief moment, he walked back to the table and touched her shoulder. “I’m terribly sorry, Lynn, but I must go.”
“What?”
“Yes. It seems there is an urgent matter…a death…with a client. I am sorry, but I must leave and attend to this issue.”
“Oh,” Lynn tried to hide the disappointment in her voice.
“I assure you, the dinner companionship was exquisite.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. He lowered himself onto one knee and looked into her eyes. “Perhaps next time, you shall be the one to kiss me?”
Acting on impulse, Lynn gulped the second half of the Lemon Drop, grabbed Robert’s face in her hands, and brought his face to hers. She kissed him hard, feeling his tongue inside of her mouth, playing with her lips. When he pulled away, she wished she had another Lemon Drop.
“Well…” he stuttered standing up, “I see you and I shall have a much more… interesting…second date.”
“Second?” Lynn tried to hide the excitement in her voice.
“Oh, yes.”
He threw a wad of bills onto the table and left the restaurant.
“Will there be anything else?” the waiter ask
ed.
“Hell yes! Another Lemon Drop!” she said, handing him the empty glass.
44
The minute Robert settled into the back of the limo he flipped open his cell phone.
“Hey, boss!” Joshua said as the window slid down. Fragments of rock music blared from the front of the limo and Joshua quickly turned down the volume. “Sorry. It’s from their Sticky Fingers album. Great tracks. So…early date, eh? Not…what you wanted?”
“Oh, she’s exactly what I want.”
Josh’s eyes narrowed as he thought about this. “Oh,” he said hesitantly, “a woman who doesn’t put out?”
“On the contrary,” Robert smiled. “Put out exactly what I needed.”
“All right man!” Josh whistled. “See ya later, dude!” As the window slid shut, the Doctor’s voice came onto the line.
“Yes?”
“We are clear. Abbey remembers nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Robert said, lighting his cigarette. “Lynn would have known. Which means the witches are as clueless; we can commence with the plan for this weekend.”
“Are you sure this Lynn girl does not lie?” The Doctor sounded strained.
“My dear doctor,” Robert said, exhaling smoke, “women are the most predictable creatures. Easy to manipulate once you know the trick.” “Trick?”
“Tears,” Robert said flatly. “A single tear gets them every time.” He paused while the Doctor laughed. “One more thing—those mutts of
Tomyris’ must be killed.”
“I don’t know if it will be convenient.”
“Oh, trust me,” Robert said, extinguishing the cigarette. “It will be convenient. No matter how much work it takes.”
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