by Lynne Stevie
I felt William’s hand drop from my back as she focused her attention on him. “That will be all for now, William. I will call when I’m ready for her to leave.”
William nodded to B before leaving me alone in unfriendly territory. I felt like bolting after him.
“Alexandria,” B said with a stern look in her eyes, “this way, dear.” She led the way under the massive staircase through the large parlor to the solarium. Inside were fussy, ornately pruned orchids, bonsai trees, and tea roses. English ivy was one of the only free-spirited plants in the place, and even it was sculpted into large formal topiaries.
“Have a seat.” She motioned to a large grouping of wrought iron furniture. Even with the ivory cushions and pillows, I could tell the chairs would be uncomfortable, but B sat on the sofa with perfect posture. As she poured the tea from her shiny silver tea service into floral china cups she said, “I know you prefer coffee. However, tea is much better for you. Would you like sugar or cream?”
“No, thanks. Just plain.” What the hell was going on? Had my grandmother invited me over for a tea party?
“Okay, enough with the pleasantries,” I said, taking my cup from her. “Why am I here today?”
“Straight to the point. I forgot how very much like your father you are,” she said with a sigh. She took a sip of tea and then settled into her seat.
“Alexandria, I received word last night that you were attacked and you fought off the attacker with a high-heeled shoe.” She smiled as if she was somehow proud.
“Nice thinking and very creative, I might add. However.” She straightened her shirt, brushed nonexistent crumbs off her pants, and changed her tone to one of disapproval. “Because of that miraculous display, you have come to the attention of a very powerful entity.”
She looked up at me and saw that I was about to ask a question. “There really is no way to put this gently and I do not have time for hysterics, so please try to hold your tongue until I am finished.”
“Okay,” I said trying to heed William’s advice.
“Alexandria, your world is about to be turned upside down, and I need you to open your mind to physical possibilities you never imagined. Can you do that?”
“Look, B, you said to come and I’m here, so let’s just get to the point.”
“Can you open your mind to astonishing possibilities that will seem impossible?” she repeated, looking directly into my eyes.
So I humored her. “Yes, B...Beatrix, I can,” I said, giving her my own hard glare back.
“Immortal beings exist. They are a part of our world.” She put her tea down and waited to see my reaction.
“Excuse me?” I’m not sure she got the reaction she wanted, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Alexandria, you heard me correctly. Ethereal creatures walk among the human population. I have kept you hidden or at least out of their sight for years now. I don’t know how they stumbled upon you unless by chance, but you have been brought to the attention of a very powerful immortal creature.” She sipped her tea as if this was a normal conversation.
All right, I’ll bite. “And who would that be?”
“His ancestry and age have not been verified, he’s something of a mystery, but I do know that he is very powerful and wealthy beyond our capacity to comprehend.” She picked up a biscotto and placed it on her plate. “Are you hearing me, Alexandria?”
Before I could answer her or even laugh, my phone rang and startled me. I answered because it was the home line calling.
“Lex?” Alan said. “Sorry to interrupt your meeting, but Ottie is looking for you. He needs you at the Janeck’s. He says that your client has died and he needs you there now.”
“Oh, shit,” was all I could say. “Tell him I’ll be there within the hour, and I’ll call him as soon as I hit the road.” Then I snapped the phone closed and turned back to B, who was sitting patiently having tea and biscotti. Oh God, she’s nuts.
“Beatrix, this has been a nice little get-together, and the tea was lovely,” I said, realizing only then that I hadn’t had any. I looked at her sitting so primly, and I had another realization. I would have to talk to William about getting Beatrix some help. She was obviously delirious.
“I need to leave now; my office called with an emergency,” I said, standing up. “Can you ask William to take me back to town?”
She set her tea down. “Alexandria, I will not lose you as I lost your mother. This situation is serious, and you need to listen to me. This being will not stop pursuing you. Has anyone contacted you since you were attacked?”
“How did you know I was attacked?” I realized in all this craziness, I’d forgotten to ask. “Did Dennis call you?”
“No. I have not spoken to your brother, and as far as I can tell, this being is not aware of Dennis. Has anyone tried to contact you? I need to know!” She seemed to draw out her words for emphasis.
“You didn’t answer me. How did you know I was attacked? I didn’t even tell the people at the office what happened.”
B just sat looking at me.
“Fine. I have to go. Can William take me, or do I need to call a taxi?”
“Alexandria, I realize that you need time to digest this. Then you will have questions for me. But remember, you are in danger from this being. I would like to send one of my guards with you.” She sat back and placed her hands in her lap, waiting for my reply.
I took a deep breath and said, “I don’t have time for this. Please call William.”
She picked up the phone beside her seat.
“William, Miss Alexandria is ready to leave now. Please meet her outside.” She paused. “Yes, please stay with her today as she does not have her car.” Then she hung up.
“I just need a ride into town,” I said. “Then I’ll send him back to you. Goodbye, B. I’ll speak to you later about all this.” I turned to leave, feeling sorry for my grandmother and thinking that maybe I should talk to that hospital psychologist about setting up an appointment for her.
Before I could take a step she was there blocking my way.
“How…?” B reached out and gripped my upper arm forcefully. She was holding on so tight I knew I’d have finger prints if and when she let go.
“Alexandria,” she said looking directly into my eyes like she was trying to look into my mind. I stared at the hand that was holding me, and when she didn’t let go, I looked into her eyes. She looked crazed, not crazy but wild, almost desperate. I tried to take a step back, but she held firm. “I know that you were attacked yesterday … and that you fought off the attacker with incredible speed and strength. I am the one who can help you understand these attributes, but I must know if the attacker has contacted you since then?”
“B,” I said giving her my own hard stare. “Let go of my arm.” She released me, but still stood between me and the door. “Look…” I might as well humor her so I can get the hell out of here, “since you seem to know so much about the attack, see if you can get my stuff back. The bastard is using my phone, and he ripped my favorite wig right off me. My head is still sore.” I reached up to touch the sore spots on my head as I told her.
She looked horrified now; the intensity had changed to one of fright, like a wild animal trapped in a corner. Her eyes were wide, and she looked as if she were deciding whether to run or stay and fight.
I took a step back. I’ve seen that look on Animal Planet when they trap a wild creature. She’d probably start pacing next, that’s what the animals always do. And that’s exactly what she did, but she still blocked my way out.
“Beatrix,” I said, forcing myself to be calm. “I’ll come back and we can talk more about this, okay? But right now I have to leave. One of my clients turned up dead this morning.” I reached out to touch her as I said it, hoping that my touch might bring her back from whatever delirious thoughts she was having. She put her hand over mine and looked up at me; her wild horrified intensity had changed to anguish.
“
Alexandria.” She said my name like she’d just found out I had cancer. I couldn’t keep up with her mood swings. I already felt overwhelmed by what had happened over the last few days, and now I had a client’s death on my watch. I’d had enough.
“Get out of my way, B,” I said, physically moving her aside. I walked—well, ran actually—straight to the front door, hoping that William would be there with the car. Her voice stopped me at the door. She spoke to my back.
“Alexandria, he has your blood. He will know your mind now, your thoughts, and your dreams.”
I turned to look at her, staring at her wild green eyes. “B, I’m going to talk to William about getting you some help. You shouldn’t be out here all alone. It’s not good for you. Try to rest today. Don’t get yourself all worked up like this.”
I forget how old she really is. Just because she looks physically fit doesn’t mean that her mind is functioning on all cylinders. I opened the door and thank God, William was waiting at the car. He held the passenger door open for me, but I opened the back door and slid in. I needed some privacy to check in with Ottie. William just shut the door, bowed to B, and got behind the wheel.
“Where would you like to go, Miss Alexandria?”
I gave William the address and then focused on the Janecks. What had happened there? What had we missed?
Between my case and B’s craziness, I didn’t think this day could get any worse.
Chapter 7
Dried Husks
William drove in silence while I spoke to Ottie. He didn’t sound happy. The police were keeping him out of the house and questioning Riley. All Ottie knew was that Riley had found someone dead. I told Ottie that I was on my way.
My morning had been a waste; B’s emergency visit was just a confusing distraction. As I called home, I thought about what she’d said and her peculiar behavior. What am I going to do with her? Immortal creatures! Ha.
Alan picked up on the first ring. I told him that I was on my way to the scene and B was probably crazy. He tried to assure me that we could take care of B, but I wasn’t convinced that we could handle her. At her best, B was a force to be reckoned with. At her worst she was like Hurricane Katrina—she knew how to clear a path.
When I arrived at the Janeck residence, yellow crime scene tape had been put up everywhere, and flashing blue lights from cop cars blinked like a Kmart blue light special inviting every neighbor to the party. Getting into the house would take some finesse. I didn’t see Ottie; maybe he was already inside. I put on my game face and prepared to exit the limo when William turned to face me.
“Miss Alexandria would you like me to get the door for you, or would that put you at a disadvantage in front of the police?”
I hadn’t even thought about how my arrival in a limo would look.
“Nah, I’ve got it, thank you. You can go on back to B now,” I said as I opened the door. I hesitated. “William, we have to talk soon about B’s mental state.”
He was at my door before I could protest. As I got out he said, “Miss Alexandria, I am quite aware of your grandmother’s mental state, and I will be here to drive you wherever you want to go today.”
This disregard for my opinion annoyed me.
“I don’t have the time to talk today, William. We’ll speak later. Now please go back to Sera Haven.”
“I have been instructed to stay with you today until other guards can be arranged.” With that he gently moved me out of the way and closed the door. As any good driver would, he leaned on the side of the car, observing the scene and always ready to open the door at moment’s notice.
Crap! Why is everything so difficult?
I straightened my shoulders and prepared to weasel my way into the house. Most of the bystanders were keeping a good distance away from the tape line. So once I pushed through their little herd I could see that only one young officer covered the front door. Good—a newbie. But then my excitement faded as I realized that I didn’t have my investigators license. Hell, I didn’t even have my driver’s license. Shit. Chin up; attitude is everything— that’s my mantra. I slipped under the tape line, and before the officer could protest I barked out, “Where’s the detective in charge?”
“Ah, Ma’am, you’re not supposed to cross the tape. You have to...”
“Where’s the detective in charge? I’m a special investigator from Haynes and Haynes. I’ve been working this case for over a week, and I need to see the detective in charge.” Then I waited, gazing at him with authority and indignation. His big blue eyes looked confused; I had him. Sweet. I love to play poker, there’s nothing better than a good bluff.
“Ma’am,” he stammered, “the detective’s inside, but I…”
“Thank you. Don’t let any of the press in.” I pointed in the direction of the limo; it was the perfect distraction. Just then Bill Edington from the Daily Journal showed up and hounded the young cop about why I was allowed behind the tape. When the rookie turned to push him back, I stepped through the front door and closed it quickly behind me. Yesss!
The front door opened right into the living room. I slid a pair of booties over my shoes and grabbed a pair of gloves. I’d never been in the Janeck’s house before, but I could hear Ottie’s booming voice coming from a hallway across the room.
I took three steps before I was rendered immobile by the absurdity of the interior of the home. The ceiling, walls, and floor—even the furniture—were covered in zebra print. The contrasting colors were so vivid; the effect almost took my breath away. The wall covering wasn’t wall paper, it seemed to be some sort of fake animal fur…or at least I hoped it was fake. Wow.
I was snapped out of my ‘welcome to bizarro world’ induced coma by Ottie’s voice coming from down the hall to my left. I pressed on, careful not to slip and fall in my bootie-covered shoes. When I got to the hallway, Ottie’s voice was louder—and floor-to-ceiling mirrors covered the walls. I felt like Alice in Wonderland down the rabbit hole.
I shouted to Ottie as I came down the hall, but before I got to him, officer Maloran stepped out of a doorway and blocked my path. His eyes narrowed in anger. “How the hell did you get in here, Mrs. Lewis?”
I was thankful that I’d bumped into him before I saw a dead person. It made it much easier to sound blasé.
“I like the ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy,” I replied calmly with my hands on my hips. Ottie chuckled.
Maloran shook his head. “Rookies. I should have known. I’ll have his badge.”
Then he sighed. “Well, now that you’re here, I’d like to hear your explanation. What’s your involvement in this case? Your associate here,” he said, jerking his thumb in Ottie’s direction, “won’t give me a damn thing.”
With a small smile to Ottie, and my hands still on my hips, I answered. “At the moment we are under no obligation to release any of our information to the police. We have a strict confidentiality policy to protect our clients. Plus, how can I have an opinion when I don’t know what’s happened?”
Maloran’s eyes turned challenging. Then he held out his arm in a grand gesture, allowing me to walk into the room he’d just left. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ottie take a step forward as if to protest, but I continued through the door.
I had to shade my eyes from the glare. Bright golden light hit me the moment I walked into the room. The walls, ceiling, and floor were covered in small, shiny gold tiles, like mosaics. Even the windows were draped with gold chains for curtains. I couldn’t focus on anything but the glare.
Then I saw Philip Janeck. He sat directly across the room at a glass-top desk, which showcased an overly ornate gold desk set to match the room. Janeck was naked, and his tan skin stood out in direct contrast to the golden glow of the room. His arms rested on the glass, and he held a gold pen in his right hand.
Janeck’s head was hanging down as if he were trying to see something he had written. I stepped closer to see what it was, but I stopped when I realized why his head was hanging so low. So
meone or something had torn—not cut, but torn—his head almost completely from his body. It was just hanging by threads.
He looked like a wax figure in one of those old movies with fake muscle and meat curled upward and away from the roughly ripped skin. The injury didn’t look real because there was no blood anywhere. His young body was beautifully placed, with not one speck of blood to ruin the look of his sculpted masculine form. I remembered when I’d met Philip at the restaurant, the heat in my blood, how he’d whispered in my ear, “another time perhaps.” That had been so real. This scene was not. I kept waiting for someone to yell “CUT! We got the shot, everyone can go home now.” But Philip was home, and he wasn’t going anywhere.
My head began to hurt with a sharp, buzzing feel, and that’s when I realized that Philip hadn’t died alone. Mrs. Palma Janeck was all over the room, like she’d been tossed in different directions. Her arms were in the corners on either side of the large, gold-draped canopy bed, and then I saw her torso on the floor. I’d almost stepped on it in my dazed attempt to get a closer look at poor Philip. When I turned to get the hell out of the room I saw that her legs were in the far corners.
I slowly backed away, thinking that I didn’t want to get blood on my booties or disturb the scene. But again, there was no blood.
I’d seen enough.
The room spun, and the buzzing in my head increased to an ear-splitting shriek. I was on the verge of either passing out or screaming in pain when my forehead started to itch so ferociously that it hurt. At least the itch brought me back from the agony I was about to fall into.
The rubber gloves kept me from really scratching hard. However, I still tried to rub away the skin on my forehead. Pushing past Maloran, I left the room and didn’t stop walking until I was outside. I paced on the back patio, breathing deeply. But I felt horrible. My forehead still hurt and itched like a fire burned under my skin. I ripped off the glove and started scratching.
Her head? I hadn’t seen her head, and there wasn’t any blood. Had they been killed somewhere else? Why were they arranged, what had Philip been writing? My forehead burned and ached; I couldn’t scratch it hard enough.