by Maggie Mundy
Chapter 13
As they headed toward her flat a short time later, Cara wished Daniel had offered to take Matcher home. Anger began to replace her sadness. Matcher barely spoke and only in monosyllabic answers. If he huffed once more, she’d hit him.
“Okay, I’ve had enough of the silent treatment. Out with it.” Big drops of rain started to plop on the windscreen.
“Look, I like working for you. If you don’t believe me, I can’t stand around and watch you get hurt.” Matcher glared out the front windscreen.
“The people were talking about Shona. I got upset. Seth provided a shoulder to cry on.”
“You weren’t crying on his shoulder when I walked out.”
That was fair enough but she didn’t regret what had happened. “I know you think he’s evil or something, but he’s always been polite. I don’t want to lose your friendship, Matcher. I’ve lost enough recently. If Seth and I meet again which is very unlikely, I promise you can be there to defend my honor.”
The rain was getting so heavy; the windscreen wipers could hardly keep the window clear. She peered ahead.
“Now you’re being stupid. He’s twice my size and fucking scary.” Matcher hesitated before he continued. “You do believe me about him, don’t you?”
“Yes, I think he’s different. Look, we’ll all get through this but we have to be there for each other.” Cara pulled up to her flat. Thankfully the rain had eased. They didn’t have too much to unload. Unlocking the boot, she heard music coming from the top floor flat. She’d forgotten her neighbors were having a party tonight. They’d promised to turn the music down at one and it was twelve thirty.
“Did you leave your lights on in the flat?” Matcher asked.
“No. My electric bill is big enough as it is.”
He was right. All the lights were on and the curtains wide open. Making their way up the stairs, partygoers from the top flat going out to have a cigarette greeted them. Cara thought her flat door was locked. As she put the key in the lock, the door moved inwards.
“Okay, so you left the lights on, and the door unlocked. I don’t think so.” Matcher stepped in front of her.
“Don’t be ridiculous, we can go in together. You know as much as you think he’s odd, this would be a good time to have Seth here.”
They placed the boxes inside the door and looked around. Everything looked the same as always. Tables weren’t turned over and curtains weren’t ripped. Then, Cara noticed something. The picture of her and Shona on the coffee table lay flat.
Someone had moved the cushions on the couch. They were all at one end, as though a guest had been leaning on them. The more she looked around, the more she discovered. With each little thing the knots in her stomach got worse as cold and dread wafted over her. Other small items had been shifted to new places. Removed from her jewelry box, a necklace lay on the nightstand beside her bed.
Her hairbrush was on the bedclothes. Come to think of it she remembered pulling up the sheets and blankets. Now, they were pulled to the foot of the bed. Oh my God, someone had been lying on her bed. What else had they done? She thought she was going to be sick as all the blood drained from her face and she started to shake in fear.
“I think you should phone the police, Cara.”
She nodded agreement as she fumbled in her purse for her mobile phone. “What the hell is happening, Matcher? Who would want to do this?” Her hands shook as she dialed for the police.
Detective Seps wandered around the flat as Cara made coffee. He scrutinized her bookcase. Good luck to him if he could work out anything from her eclectic mess of reading material, except that she liked cooking and medieval romances.
Placing the mugs of coffee on the table, Cara offered some cake. He finished it so quickly she wasn’t sure if he liked it or he was just famished. He wore the same crumpled suit she’d seen him in before. He made her think of a wise old owl with its feathers all ruffled.
“After seeing the report this morning, I thought I’d look in on you. I read the door wasn’t tampered with and the windows were closed.”
“Yes, but I know I locked the door. The lights were all off when I left too.”
“You’re certain things were moved though?”
“Yes.” Did he think she would make it up? Why would she want to bring more chaos into her life? “My cat was stuck in the office as well and he was on the sofa when I left.”
“Of course it’s difficult for us to know who was around. The front door of the building was open so the people upstairs could go and smoke. I noticed the lock on your flat isn’t a very secure one.” He eyed the rest of the cake.
“I always thought the intercom would be enough.” Cara watched when Detective Seps picked up the photo of her with Shona.
“I was looking at this picture of Shona Williams. It appears to be a more recent than the one we have. Could I possibly have it?”
Cara snatched it out of his hand. “I’m sorry. It’s the last photo taken of us together. I’ve a scanner in the office. I’ll do you a copy.”
“I understand. That would be fine.”
Cara got the computer going, willing it to hurry up. With the scanned copy in hand, she walked out to find him going through her booking diary. She had left it on the breakfast bar. Well, she had nothing to hide. That wasn’t completely true but he wouldn’t want to know about witchcraft.
“Here you are and thank you again for calling in. You’ll let me know straightaway if you hear anything new.”
“Of course and in the meantime you’ll get that lock changed, won’t you? Perhaps, you might add a deadbolt.”
She nodded. “Yes, I will. Thank you, Detective.”
As soon as he was gone, Cara went back to her appointment book. It was open to the week of Shona’s death. No surprise there. Cara went through all the names on the two pages. Suppliers, florists, Mum, Dad, Matcher and Daniel. There were also names and addresses of five clients and other people she needed to see about a variety of things. The two names she wasn’t happy about Detective Seps seeing were her counselor and Seth.
If he went and saw Jessica, he might find out about the dreams. Then again, wasn’t there such a thing as patient confidentiality? Cara decided that her therapist would respect her privacy. As for Seth, he was a stranger. She had no right to involve him in her crazy life even if they had kissed. She felt desperate and lonely. He seemed like someone steady, who could keep her safe. The problem was there were too many secrets as far as he was concerned as well. She still wasn’t sure about his connection to the dagger.
Three days later, Cara couldn’t delay going to see her mother any longer. When she pulled up outside of her parent’s block of flats, she noticed a van unloading furniture at the house next door. It was such a beautiful house. It must have been built about a hundred years ago. It sat on at least half an acre looking out onto The Downs, the beautiful grassed area that stretched over to the Avon Gorge where the famous suspension bridge by Brunel still stood. At night though, the street lighting wasn’t good and a dangerous place for a person alone.
Someone touched her arm. Cara jumped. It was her mother.
“Oh you are edgy, darling. I didn’t mean to surprise you. It’s Vincent’s place,” Anne said. “Remember, he was at our last dinner party and I think he liked you. I might try and have another little get-together.”
“Please don’t, not on my account anyway.” Cara knew she had been abrupt but her mother always got her on the defensive.
“But, you’re never going to meet anyone stuck in a kitchen all day.”
“I don’t remember saying I wanted to meet anyone.” Cara gritted her teeth.
“I see, dear. Come inside. It’s so tragic about Shona. She seemed such a nice girl though your father has not really had much to do with his sister’s
in-laws family. I’m glad I was able to help with the funeral. They all seemed so distressed. It was the least I could do.”
Cara followed silently. She knew her own tongue would be bitten through by the time she left. Why did she put herself through this? After a few hours of her mother droning on about her friends, Cara knew she had to go or there would be bloodshed.
As an only child they had very specific expectations for her. Preferably to marry a lawyer like Dad, then raise children and bring them up good little Catholics. The fact that her mother was always complaining about someone hardly seemed very Christian to Cara. She had given up long ago trying to be the perfect daughter.
It was only three in the afternoon. Clouds rimmed the horizon. She wanted to get home before dark, but didn’t want to tell her mother about the break-in. Her parents would probably want her to move back in with them. That would prove that she really had gone insane if she was contemplating it.
Unlocking the van, she heard someone call her name. She turned and saw Vincent walking out his front gate. He looked distinguished in a black designer business suit. Cara tugged at her old coat. It was a lovely vintage duffle from the 1960’s but had seen better days.
“I’m so glad I caught you,” Vincent said. “Do you have a moment?”
She longed to say no, not really. Some weirdo’s stalking me and breaking into my flat. I want to be home while the sun is up in case he’s a vampire. That was right. She remembered she didn’t tell people things like that because they would think she was odd.
“No, that would be fine.” At least she would get to see inside the house.
“Anne must have told you I purchased this property a while back?”
“Yes she did.”
“I’d like to celebrate with a house-warming party.”
Cara followed him through the front door. She hoped she didn’t look like a hound dog with its mouth hanging open. Although the furniture was not adorned with any personal pieces, everything fitted exactly as though it had been made for the house. Vincent had exquisite taste. Then again, he could afford to buy what he liked.
They went into what was going to be his office. It was at the front of the house. The windows looked out on the garden and the rolling grass of The Downs beyond. The large room had mahogany bookshelves on three walls, from floor to ceiling. From the number of boxes on the floor Cara had no doubt Vincent would be able to fill the shelves. She wondered what Detective Seps would make of his collection?
Vincent moved over to his desk where his laptop was open. He obviously functioned appropriately in this century, not like she did. She’d bet he never left his books open for anyone to peruse.
“I know this is short notice. The Sunday after next is the date I want. I’d like to have about fifty guests. I prefer simple but impressive food that allows people to talk and mingle. I planned on using the conservatory, but I’ll see what you think.”
Cara followed as he walked through the house. He had taken off his jacket. His butt looked good in the expensive pants he was wearing. Mother would be pleased she had noticed, Cara thought. Hopefully, he didn’t notice her looking down as he stopped and turned.
They walked into the conservatory. Cara adored it. The enormous area stretched the width of the rear of the house. It opened onto manicured gardens. At the moment, it was empty. She could imagine it with elegant palms in large containers.
“I know you usually do dinners and lunches, but I’ve a few collectors coming from Ireland. If you showcased produce from their part of the world, it might impress them.” He laughed. “They might sell me some of their collections more cheaply.”
“I think you overestimate the persuasive power of my cooking. It would give us an opportunity to try something new though.” Cara was already thinking about salmon, lobsters and oysters.
“Don’t worry about the cost,” Vincent said. “I know this will be a rush job, but I want the best.”
“I’ll draw up a menu and fax it to you. Then you can approve what I want to serve. Of course, I’ll need to double check and be certain we’re not already booked.”
“I’m so glad I saw you, Cara. I’ll be busy enough trying to sort the house out without trying to organize functions. My PA, Stephan, will help you with everything.”
“I’ll look forward to working with him,” Cara said politely.
They started to walk back through the house. Vincent smiled at her. “Would you like a tour of the place?”
“Yes, that would be lovely.”
Each room was immaculately furnished. It wasn’t her taste. The drapes and the furnishings were all so dark. She wanted to open the windows, let some air and light into the place for a while.
Vincent led her into yet another of the upstairs rooms. This one was not made up as a bedroom, but as a studio. Paintings of women adorned each wall and at least three easels were set up with works in progress.
“Did you do all of these paintings?”
“These paintings are of women who’ve all been important to me. It’s my way of honoring their memories.”
Beside each picture was a small glass case. Each case had an item inside. A bracelet or hair comb or earrings.
“I’ve been lucky that each woman I painted let me have a little keepsake to remind me of her.”
“Could I see one of your latest projects?”
“No.” He answered abruptly. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want someone to eat one of your meals if it hadn’t been cooked properly. Did I tell you the house even has a wine cellar? I managed to purchase some of the wine.”
Cara followed Vincent out of the studio room. She was glad. The room gave her the creeps with his paintings of all his old girlfriends. It was like the dead wives of Bluebeard locked in the cellar.
“I always loved this house,” Cara said. “I dread to think what you had to pay for it.”
“It’s worth paying any price if you want something enough. I hope you don’t think I’m forward, but Anne said you had lost a relative recently. I wanted to offer my condolences.”
“Thank you.”
“Death is such a final thing. I’m sure we’d all avoid it if we could. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind.” Cara put out her hand to shake his. He held it slightly longer than was necessary. For some reason the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.
Maybe he was interested in her. Mother would be pleased since he was a good catch. Not bad looking and a great house. After all, love had gotten her nowhere in the past. No, she thought. I don’t want to be another of his paintings hanging in his studio when he calls it quits.
Seth’s face came into her mind at that moment, providing a conundrum she didn’t want to think about. She couldn’t forget him or that wonderful kiss.
When she texted him, Daniel loved the idea of the booking. She wasn’t so sure, but what the heck? It would keep her mind busy. There was a message on her phone when she arrived home. It was Seth. Her stomach jumped up to her throat when she heard his deep voice. Every time she spoke to him her world went into overdrive as her heart sped up.
“Cara, this is Seth Scanlon. I was just phoning to see how you were. I’d like to talk to you about a booking. I hope to hear from you soon.”
The memory of his kiss the night at The Crescent made her hot all over again. She was being irrational. He was dark and scary. He had hardly spoken two words both times she had met him. He had a dagger in his forge that was identical to the one in her dreams.
Her cousin was dead, probably killed by a knife similar to Seth’s. Then there was the strange dream of him in Paris. All in all, he was definitely the last person she should be thinking of right now.
That was it. She was fed up of things just happening to her. From now on, she w
ould start to take control and see where it led. No more spells and dreams, but action. Tomorrow she would phone Seth. She needed to find out why he had a dagger like the one in her dream.
As she dozed off to sleep, she thought back to his strong arms around her, the smell of him and the way his mouth tasted. No matter what fears she had about him the thoughts of him as a lover always took over and made her body heat up.
Chapter 14
Matcher felt he should be thinking of Cara now as he lay on his bed. Instead his mind kept going back to the other night and the girl he had met. Darren and Andy from the flat had been going down to the local pub. Matcher was more than happy to join them after having another session with Jessica.
He liked his flat mates. Darren was a mechanic, which was handy as he kept both their old cars from dying completely. Andy was working at the local supermarket. Night supervisor. He had a night off so it was pub time for all. The Three Bells was just around the corner and they had some decent real ale. The money he was getting from Cara and Daniel didn’t go that far, but you could still get drunk enough. Darren was telling them about the girl who had brought her VW in and had asked him out.
“Shit, that’s the first time the job has ever thrown up any fringe benefits.” Darren said.
“So when ya seeing her?” Andy asked.
“She’s invited me and my mates to a party at her place next Saturday.”
“That’s cool with me. Its Jack’s weekend on,” Darren replied.
They both looked to Matcher.
“Saturday isn’t good for me. That’s when they have most of their big meals.”
“Shit, they can do without you for one night, can’t they?” Darren looked annoyed.
“Sure. I’ll be there,” Matcher answered.