by Stone, Naomi
Greg moved to intercept him, positioning himself between the professor and his escape route.
“You’ll want this to be a private conversation.” He locked eyes with the professor, but nodded to Penny who stood backed against the balcony railing. From her admiring gaze, Greg guessed she’d forgotten the professor in favor of the superhero’s arrival. “Will you excuse us, miss?”
“Sure,” she breathed, moving slowly to the terrace door, never taking her wide-eyed gaze off him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Stevens demanded.
“I think I’m paying a visit to the man responsible for stealing student research and selling it off to the R&D division at ABM.”
Stevens sputtered. “What are you talking about?”
“Give it up, Professor. The storage unit housing the stolen data is traceable to you. I’ve done it. So will the police.” The older man’s face went pale beneath its fake tan.
“What do you want?”
“Right now? The name and contact info for your confederate at ABM.”
The more he considered it, the more sense it made. ABM couldn’t be using legitimate means to acquire stolen research. Who knew how far the woman he’d spotted visiting the servers might go to keep her illegal dealings secret?
“She may be guilty of murder,” Greg continued.
“Murder? Now wait a minute. I haven’t had anything to do with any murder.”
“A young woman is dead and your business partner has secrets to keep. How much are you willing to stake on her good moral character? Your own life if she decides you know too much? Being counted as an accessory to her crimes? You’d better decide whether it’s worth it to you.”
“You’re nothing but a damned self-appointed vigilante.” The professor straightened, facing Wonder Guy with a scowl. “You have no legal authority here.”
“No.” Greg smiled. “But I can get the people who do have the authority over here if you’d rather deal with them. I can see letting the matter go if you give up your partner and return the stolen research. The authorities may not be as willing to deal.”
The professor looked shaken, despite his belligerent manner. He glowered. “I’m not admitting anything,” he said. “My relationship with Kathleen Pederson, who happens to work at ABM, is purely social. If she’s done anything illegal, I know nothing about it.”
“We can return to the issue at any time,” Greg growled. “And we will if you don’t produce her contact info for me in the next sixty seconds.”
Stevens stared darkly back at him as he dug in his jacket pocket and produced a cell phone. Clicking through a few icons, he proffered the device. “Here. This is the only number I have for her.”
Greg studied the number, committing it to memory. He initiated a call, but Pederson’s phone sent him immediately to voice mail. Now what? He handed Stevens his phone.
“Thanks for your cooperation, Professor,” he said, keeping a warning note in his tone. “I’ll check back on the status of the student work, and ABM will be warned to establish the provenance of their research.”
The professor said nothing. Until Wonder Guy took to the air, when his super hearing caught a bout of muttered, though ardent, cursing. At least he had Pederson’s name and number. Now he’d have to figure out whether she really was connected to Jo’s murder, making her a threat to Gloria.
Chapter 21
Elysha relished the woodlands at night. Especially on nights like this, with the wind dancing ahead of a brewing storm. She sensed the world through her skin, through the lush, moist air of a June night in which the rising breeze carried scents of wild strawberries, rain to come and the distant taint of gas and tar.
She wove her way between roots and brambles and stabbing branches as if she were herself a tendril of the wind, as much a part of the wild as any tree or vine. The wildness churned even in these shallow scraps of woodlands that once had wrapped this region in wilderness as thick as a grizzly’s winter pelt. At the verge of the open lawns bordering the narrow road running along the creek for the length of the park, she met her contact.
“What are those?” Pederson asked, staring wide-eyed at the creatures all too visible even in the shadows of the open area between wood and road.
“You’ve done well.” Elysha nodded to her. “Did you bring the weapon?”
Still casting nervous looks to the side, the woman turned her attention back to Elysha. “I brought that chunk of brick and cement, if that’s what you mean. It’s not much of a weapon. I’d rather have an automatic.”
“This weapon has surely kept at least one of our enemies from interfering with you in the course of your errands.” Elysha nodded to another minion, one looking more like a gnarled knot of tree roots come to life than anything else.
Pederson lifted the chunk of masonry from the back seat of her vehicle and the creature grasped it. The woman flinched from contact with the minion, quickly releasing her grip.
“What about the girl? She might still be trouble.” She wiped her hands down the sides of her business suit.
“The girl will cause no trouble. Once she’s of no more use to me, I’ll dispose of her.”
The captive in question struggled, despite her obviously dazed state, as the minions dragged her from the rear of Pederson’s conveyance and carried her into the deeper darkness beneath the trees. Here, along the rippling laugh of the creek cutting to the south of the city, poplars and maples still stood tall and drew the darkness in around them, enclosing everything in night except for odd glimmers of lesser darkness between the masses of undergrowth. It took four of the stronger creatures to carry the girl from the road.
They took the duty with ill grace, complaining of having to go near the burning metal and noxious fumes. Elysha sniffed in disdain. Her servants should be calloused to such duty by now. Perhaps she needed to expose them to cold steel more often.
* * * *
It’s a nightmare. It must be. In the darkness beneath clouded night and leafy woods, Gloria caught only glimpses of her captors as they’d dragged her from the car. Whatever they were wasn’t human. They seemed more like strange combinations of roots and toads, or insects and thistles in vaguely human shape. Aliens? Monsters? Nightmares. The ‘hands’ clutching her felt as unyielding as the branches of scrub trees growing up beside the garage. Ike needed to root them out or cut them back every season. Perhaps she dreamt of their revenge.
Her journey became a series of slaps and stinging blows. With hands and legs still bound, she couldn’t protect herself from the lash of branches and trailing brambles sweeping past as the creatures carried her deeper into the woods. She tried to shield her face by tucking her chin into a shoulder. The gag made breathing difficult, but at least it protected her mouth. Squelching underfoot and the sound of flowing water told her some stream ran nearby. Minnehaha maybe?
At last, her bearers released her and she hit the ground with a jarring thump. Half-stunned from the impact, she lay on uneven turf where the roots of a large tree protruded and stinging nettles grew thick. She flinched from the nettles and wriggled to find some softer place among the roots.
Someone loomed above her, a darker shade among the shadows.
Something prodded her in the ribs.
“Such bait seems a poor lure for our fish. We must display you to better advantage than this.” A woman’s voice. Gloria lay at the feet of a woman.
Gloria gurgled in the effort to speak around the gag. She wanted to scream. Shout. Demand answers. Who was this woman? Bait to lure a fish? Not good. Not good at all.
“I cannot trust you not to scream.” The woman’s voice sounded thoughtful. “We’re still too near human habitation. Still, a small spell will serve better than that nasty rag and you must be able to plead to your hero when he comes.”
One of the twiggy creatures reached toward her face and Gloria flinched. With some tugging, the thing managed to tear away the cloth from her mouth. She drew breath and let loose what shoul
d have been a hell of a shrill scream, but no sound issued from her throat.
What? She tried to speak, to say, “What have you done to me?” Her lips moved. She did exactly as she’d always done to produce speech, but now only silence resulted. Panic warred with the awareness of how ridiculous she must look, mouth working like a stranded fish. She closed her lips into a firm line and glared at the looming shadow of her captor.
In her distraction, Gloria had barely noticed her other bonds changing form, not until her hands were drawn apart, dragged forcefully from their bound-behind-her-back position. Duct-tape no longer held them together, but she found each wrist wrapped separately with what felt like heavy, prickly cord. Unseen forces dragged these cords behind the tree at her back. She found herself pulled up and back to a seated posture with her arms awkwardly spread to encompass the width of the tree’s trunk, solid bark scraping her spine. Her legs were freed for a moment and she squirmed into an upright posture with their aid.
The earth beneath her softened. The roots of the tree writhed below the sod, coiling up and around her legs, drawing them below the dirt, until it seemed she stood, buried to the tops of her legs in the earth and pressed back against the tree. Overcome by horror and helplessness, she screamed soundlessly, over and again.
* * * *
Flying not far above the neighborhood roofs, Greg spotted the flashing lights of a police car lighting up the night. Several squad cars parked in front of Aggie’s house. He landed behind the house, changed from Wonder Guy’s costume back to his normal slacks and t-shirt, and only then went around to the front of the house at a run.
He found Aggie sitting in her wheelchair on the front walk, watching a pair of men in police uniform at the Torkenson’s front door. One pounded the door intermittently while the other spoke into a radio. Greg’s heart lurched.
“What’s going on?” He came up beside Aggie.
“It’s Gloria.” Worry impressed new lines in her brow, drew down the corners of her mouth.
“Did you call her? Warn her?”
“I tried. Someone’s got her, or at least, someone has her phone and claims to have her. When I tried calling, some other woman answered. She said Gloria will die if Wonder Guy doesn’t come for her.”
“What?” It came out at a much higher volume than he’d intended. The police looked his way. He took a breath. He had to think clearly. More softly, he asked, “How is Wonder Guy supposed to find her? How were you supposed to tell him?”
“I don’t know.” Tears stood in Aggie’s eyes now. “I didn’t know what else to do but call the police. They’re deciding now whether she’s gone, whether to put out an APB and try to contact Wonder Guy.”
“You have to tell them to find Gloria’s supervisor. It’s Kathleen Pederson. I’d bet the farm she’s one who has Gloria’s phone.”
“We don’t own a farm, and why don’t you tell them yourself?”
“This is no time to teach me to be more independent, Mom. The police would ask me questions I can’t answer.”
“I can’t answer any questions about it either.”
“You won’t have to. You’ve met Pederson. You can tell them you recognized her voice, it only took you a while to put it together. They won’t push a poor helpless cripple lady too hard,” he added in a teasing tone he hoped would take some of the edge off the worry showing clearly on her face.
She socked him in the arm with the considerable strength she’d gained by wheeling her chair everywhere she went. “All right, I’ll tell them, but I’ll want the whole story later.”
“Don’t worry, Mom.” Greg moved in close beside Aggie’s chair as the red and blue police lights cycled across the scene, painting their faces, the neighborhood houses and street all with the same lurid colors. The rising wind and scent of coming rain only added to his sense of urgency, but he put a hand on her shoulder. “It will be all right. I’m sure Wonder Guy will come through.” He said the words, and she nodded as if reassured, but he wasn’t as sure as he’d sounded. How could he save Gloria when he had no idea how to find her?
“I hope you’re right.” Aggie kept her eyes on the officers next door. They stopped banging on the door and turned to face the new arrival, Ike Torkenson, emerging from a battered SUV pulled up at the curb.
“I hope you’re right, but how can we even tell Wonder Guy he’s supposed to follow the creek if we can’t find him?”
“What creek?”
“That’s all the kidnapper said. Just, tell him to follow the creek.” Aggie looked as confused and helpless as he felt.
He needed to talk to Serafina. If anyone knew how to find Gloria, she should. Why hadn’t he heard from her already? She’d warned him about other situations where Wonder Guy was needed.
Ike strode up his sidewalk to the house, already in full righteous-indignation mode, shouting, “What are you people doing there? Get off my stoop. I’m a law-abiding citizen! You’ve got no business with me! And you gawkers–” He turned on Aggie and Greg and the Nelsons who’d stepped out of their house on the other side of the Torkenson’s property. “This is no circus. You people mind your own business.”
Greg couldn’t leave Aggie alone in the midst of this awful sideshow. She started to wheel forward into the heat of battle, but he held her back.
“Sir.” The taller, gray-haired officer turned to Ike. “Are you the property owner?”
“Damn right, I am.” Ike thrust his stubbled jaw forward.
“We’re here about your daughter,” the officer continued, one thumb stuck in his utility belt, near the oversized flashlight hanging there like a billy club.
“Gloria?” Ike’s shoulders slumped and his voice lost its bluster. “What about Gloria? She’s a good girl, she wouldn’t do anything wrong.”
At her insistence, Greg went with Aggie then, helping move her chair across the bit of lawn between walks.
“Your neighbor here called it in.” The other policeman, younger and shorter, gestured to Aggie.
“I tried calling her, Ike.” Aggie drew up near the Torkenson stoop. “Some strange woman answered, saying she has Gloria, saying she’s in danger.”
“No.” Ike dropped to sit on one of the steps as if he’d suddenly lost use of his legs.
“Sir, can you let us into the house to check for signs of violence or forced entry?”
Ike looked up, shaking his head.
“Give them your keys, Ike.” Aggie moved up beside him.
Greg hung back. Staying here did no good. Aggie would reassure Ike. The police would do their part. He backed off, into the deeper dark between the houses.
“Serafina?” Greg called softly from near the garage, in the darkened back yard.
“Yes, dear?” He started at her voice. She stood at his elbow.
“Someone’s got Gloria.”
“I’m so sorry, dear. We couldn’t interfere directly.” She laid a hand lightly on his wrist, and he felt her sympathy flow into him like hot cocoa on a winter’s day.
“Why didn’t you call me? Let me know she was in danger?”
“You wouldn’t have been able to do anything, either.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Tsk. Language, dear.”
“I’m sorry, but why couldn’t I have helped her?”
“The enemy has a weapon, something taken from your birthplace. You could never have approached her in time.”
“So where is Gloria now? How can I find her?”
“I’m sorry, but she’s been taken by our enemy Elysha. We can’t see into the creature’s areas of power. You’ll have to find Gloria on your own. When you do so, we can come to your aid and deal with Elysha. I know you can do it, dear. You’re not alone in this, as much as it may seem like it right now.”
* * * *
Aggie maneuvered her chair to the side of the stoop where Ike sat bent over, head in hands, apparently oblivious to the uniformed strangers going in and coming back out through his front door.
“You okay, Ike?” She put a hand on his shoulder, half afraid he’d shrug it off and more concerned than ever when he didn’t. It seemed he wouldn’t respond at all. She gave his shoulder a squeeze to offer comfort if he cared to take it.
“I’m a selfish bastard,” he said no louder than if talking to himself.
“From time to time.” She kept her tone light and conversational. “But you have your moments. Karen would never have married you otherwise.”
He grunted. “The best part of me died with her.”
“This is no time to wallow, Ike. Gloria needs us to be strong.”
He sat upright, throwing off her hand. “My girl’s in trouble and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m useless and now I’ll be alone after all. I should have let her go a long time ago for all the difference it makes now. She could have been happier, but she was my baby girl. She was all I had left.”
He slumped forward again. The scent of cheap beer overwhelmed her when she stopped close beside him, but this wasn’t the time to remind him of his other problems.
“Ike. Stop that right now. Stop talking like Gloria’s dead and in the ground. The least you can do is keep hope alive for her. Don’t give up on her.”
It’s what she kept telling herself. Everyone had limitations. She had to focus on possibilities.
“I know you’re not a religious man, Ike, but believe this much, we’re connected to the people we care about. Our love and faith in them can make a difference, even if we can’t explain how or why.”
“I don’t know,” Ike muttered. “Karen used to talk like that.” He drew a deep breath, straightened his shoulders. “Glory’s not dead. I’d know it. I’d know it if she wasn’t in the world.”
“That’s right,” Aggie told him. “And so would I. Now let’s talk to the police again. I want to make sure we tell them everything we possibly can about the situation.”
* * * *
Gloria struggled against the grip of her restraints. No one had the power to make roots and brambles grow and move at command. It was impossible. Could it be magic? She couldn’t fight magic. She liked to imagine she had something special about her, but she was an ordinary human being, not some magic-wielding wonder woman or demon slayer.