Elena shook her head. “No way. He’s safe where he is. You can’t go there, or they’ll know. You’re a cop. They might even be watching us now, which means they know we’re comparing notes, right? If they think Luis is alive, despite our little ruse, then they’ll follow us all.”
Doug was starting to get his cop look—tough and unyielding. “Then it won’t be one of us who goes to get him.”
“There’s nowhere in this town to hide him,” she said. “I’m not risking his life.”
“There are many safe places. We could keep him at the police station, for one thing.”
“What, in a cell?” She scowled at him. “No, thanks.”
Something blinked on in my mind—an idea, fully illuminated. I smiled. “No, but maybe something like a cell. Something super private, secluded, away from the world, where no one would ever think of looking. Somewhere quiet, and even soundproof.” I looked at Camilla, and then at Sam, and I saw that they both knew what I was thinking. Sam nodded his approval.
“Elena,” I said. “I think I might have the perfect solution.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
Doug and Cliff had caught on, too. Cliff said, “Lena’s referencing the currently unoccupied home of Nikon Lazos. It has been vacant and for sale for several months.”
“My friend Allison is pals with the real estate agent,” I said. “I’ll bet she would cooperate.”
Tommy had finished petting Geronimo, who was looking drowsy. He set the little cat on the windowsill, and Geronimo promptly curled into a ball and went to sleep. Tommy looked back at us and frowned. “Didn’t a bunch of people get shot in there?”
“Not a bunch,” Doug said. “Just Cliff and me.” They exchanged a look—cop solidarity.
“Oh wow—you both got shot?” Elena said.
Cliff looked slightly defensive. “You had to be there.”
“They saved my life,” Sam said. “And Lena’s. But more to the point, we got very familiar with the layout in his basement. He had very comfortable living quarters down there; he hid in the place for months without anyone ever being the wiser.”
“There would be no reason for whoever wants Luis to think he would have any connection to the notorious Lazos house.”
“And we could even let him have a friend in there,” Cliff said. “We’re currently keeping Carl in a different safe house.”
Elena’s brows rose. “Carl? Why?”
Sam leaned back in his chair, one hand on his stomach. He had eaten almost all the food people had put in front of him. “He hacked into Plasti-Source computers. They have not reported the fact to the police; Carl is afraid they might want to silence him. Doug and Cliff there were kind of afraid of that as well.”
“Oh my gosh, that kid,” Elena said, almost grinning. “He’s such a pain, but he really grows on you. Luis just loves him.”
“He loves Luis,” I said. “He’s devastated. He thinks Luis is dead.”
Elena looked at her brothers. Tommy said, “Do it, Lainey. He’ll be closer to you and the cops will be keeping tabs on him. Let’s get this resolved so Lu can come home to you.”
Joe nodded. “I agree. Let’s get Lu into the house. He and Carl can play their precious video games. And he can look for a job. He’s obviously not going to want to return to this one.” He scratched his head with a worried expression. “I don’t know how long any of us will have jobs there if there’s something fishy going on.”
Doug looked at his watch again. “Where is Luis now? Is he at all nearby?”
Elena sighed. “Not exactly. About an hour and a half away. I couldn’t send him to anyone traceable, not to any of my brothers.”
Camilla smiled. “How many brothers do you have?”
“Six,” Elena said. “These two are the only ones who live near me.” She gestured at Joe and Tommy, looming on either side of her like pillars.
“So you sent him—where?” Cliff asked.
“I have this former teacher that I keep in touch with. She retired, and she and her husband have a farm. I don’t want to say where.”
“Would they be willing to drive him out here? They can go straight to the house in Allison’s subdivision. We’ll have Allison stock it up and get it ready. No one’s watching her. She’s not related to this at all,” Doug said.
Elena pursed her lips. “I guess it would be okay. Let me know when it’s ready. I’ll have to borrow someone else’s phone to call her. I don’t know what kind of surveillance they’re using on me or my family. I was calling her on that old pay phone at Bick’s Hardware.”
Camilla had been mostly quiet, listening to all of the testimony of Elena and her brothers. Now she folded her hands on the table and said, “I see that you drive a dark blue car. Did you happen to be the ones following Lena and Belinda around town? Did you follow them here yesterday after they left Blue Lake Games?”
The Piper siblings all wore the same blank expression. “I worked yesterday,” Elena said. “So did these guys. They’re only here because it’s Saturday. And when Joe saw you in the store—that was just a coincidence. But we were waiting for him outside, so he called, and we pulled up the car.”
Doug’s eyes were on the lake, and the tree that bent under the assault of the icy rain. “You all just happened to be driving around together?”
“We didn’t just happen to. We were still trying to figure out why Lena and Sam West were watching us. Tommy was along because he was going to have dinner with us. Joe was going to cook, and he stopped there for ingredients. And there you were,” she said, looking at me. “And it felt like you were following us again. I just kind of lost it. I told Joe to bring you to the car.”
Doug stood up. “We have to go, Cliff. Elena, I will let you know when I’ve talked to Allison, and to the Realtor, and made arrangements about the house. They will both be sworn to secrecy under fear of prosecution.”
“Okay,” Elena said. She stood as well. “We should go, too. Camilla—it’s really an honor to be here. I have read several of your books, and now that I know you guys aren’t somehow plotting against Luis—well, it’s really neat to meet you face-to-face.”
Camilla nodded. “Thank you, dear. I think things will look up for you now; rather than bearing a secret alone, you have a team intellect working toward its resolution.”
“I’m counting on that,” she said.
Joe and Tommy shook hands with Doug and Cliff and then with the rest of us. Before they left, Joe sent Doug a warning look. “I don’t know who it was following Lena and her friend, but if it’s someone from Plasti-Source—well, just be careful.”
“We will,” Doug said. “And they will—right, Lena?”
“Yes. I’m always careful.”
“Somehow that never helps,” Sam said. He was standing, too, now, and looking restless in his Sam way.
Adam and Camilla ushered the visitors down the hall and out the front door, and Sam looked at me. “It continues to be an eventful week.”
I wrapped my arms around him and rooted into his neck, which smelled faintly of sandalwood. “Mmm. It’s so nice to see you up and around.”
“Imagine my surprise, after waking from a Camilla-imposed nap, to find the Piper family in her sunroom.”
“Imagine my surprise at being thrown into a car with them.”
“What?” He looked murderous.
“No—all a misunderstanding. Don’t look like that. What are we going to do about Carl?”
Sam shrugged, his arms still around my middle. “We don’t do anything—that’s Doug’s territory. But I hope Doug is filling in Belinda, or I have a feeling there will be trouble in paradise.”
* * *
* * *
SAM AND I spent the evening with Camilla and Adam, first watching a movie and then playing a few rounds of charades, before Sam yawned
and I suggested he should go to bed. “Camilla, we’ll meet in the morning, right?”
“Oh yes!” Camilla said. “And I have some notes for you for the writer’s advice manual, if you’d like to look them over tonight. Let me run to my office.” She left the living room and returned two minutes later with a small sheaf of papers.
“I will happily read this. And in return I will have a stab at an opening page for Danger at Debenham Station. I’ll send it to you when I get upstairs.”
“Perfect,” she said. “Good night, dear.”
“Good night.” I hugged her and kissed Adam’s cheek.
Sam said, “Camilla, Adam, congratulations on your wedding. I’m very happy for you.”
“Thank you, dear,” Camilla said. Sam shook Adam’s hand.
Then we climbed the stairs together (with two kittens at our heels, though they seemed to think they were invisible). We went into my room, where Lestrade already lay on the bed like a lazy lion. “Our family,” Sam said indulgently.
I laughed. “You go ahead and get ready for bed. I’m probably going to work over here at the desk for a while. It has a built-in light, so the rest of the room can be dark and you can get some rest.”
Sam went into the bathroom; I heard him brushing his teeth. When he emerged he looked both tired and young. “I was hoping you would tuck me in,” he said.
Laughing, I jumped onto the bed and got under the covers as Sam climbed in the other side. “Just for a minute,” I said, as his warm mouth met mine. The rain had finally ended, but a cold wind still battered the window, and it was as if time had returned to the moment when I had first kissed Sam, the cold wind blowing around us as we stood in front of the tall pine at the foot of his driveway. That had been a year ago, and now we were going to be married . . .
“It’s nice and warm in here,” Sam said near my ear.
“It’s the flannel sheets.”
“It’s also because I have a warm companion.” His words were flirtatious, but his eyes were closed.
I kissed his nose. “I want you to go to sleep now. Your warm companion will still be here in the morning, along with various felines.”
“Mmm,” he said. I waited until he was fully asleep, watching the gradual relaxing of his features. His face bore some lines from life’s harsh blows, but it retained its basic character and sensitivity. It was a courageous face. I kissed him gently on one cheekbone and then slid out of the bed. I still felt alert, partly because I was eager to see Camilla’s notes about her book.
I went to the corner and flipped on the light in my desk. I opened my laptop and studied what I had written. I had tried to mimic her style, which was all at once nostalgic, wise, and suspenseful. My first line: “Once she got to Debenham, Fiona intended to tell her aunt everything it had been too hard to say in a letter; in fact, she climbed aboard the morning train feeling confident that any miscommunications between them would be cleared up that evening, when her aunt met her at the station.”
A pang of regret surged through me. “Too wordy,” I murmured. “And not suspenseful enough.” I found myself suffering from the common writer’s malady of hating what I had previously liked.
With a sigh, I thought about other options for beginning the book. Perhaps the focus did not initially need to be on her destination, but on the train itself. Perhaps Fiona would have some sort of experience on the train that would become significant later. Might she meet her love interest there? Might he be going to Debenham as well? Or perhaps he would disembark slightly earlier, so that the reader and Fiona temporarily forgot him?
Or what if there was some sort of clue on the train, some object that Fiona might notice over and over again, but only unconsciously. Later perhaps that object would become significant.
“Hmm,” I said, liking this thought.
I deleted the first sentence and changed it to “The train wasn’t particularly crowded, but somehow the red suitcase two seats ahead of her managed to block her view of both the passing scenery and the front of the car.”
A red suitcase? Seemed too obvious. And how would it end up being significant later?
With a sigh, I deleted that sentence and retyped the original one. “Camilla will know,” I said to Arabella, who had daintily jumped onto the desk and begun to wash her one black paw. I scratched her little ears, then attached my document to an e-mail and sent it to my mentor.
I pushed my computer away and pulled out her notes for the writer’s advice manual. She had tentatively titled it “A Writer’s Guide to the Story Within.” I scratched a note on this. “Isn’t every story within until we bring it out? Is that the point you’re making? Or should you be using second person to include the audience? What about ‘We All Have a Story: Camilla Graham Helps You Find Your Life’s Narrative’?” I stared at the paper. “But that doesn’t indicate that this is also a memoir.” I said this to Arabella’s fuzzy face, and she seemed to contemplate what I was saying. “Your story is very interesting, Arabella. Kind of a rags-to-riches tale. With that benevolent king over there taking you into his castle. The question is, how did you get up on that bluff in the first place, back when he found you and your brothers?”
Arabella wasn’t telling. Her eyes were half-closed, and she purred with pleasure at receiving my attention.
“What a weird day,” I said. Arabella’s eyes opened long enough for her to climb up my arm and settle on my chest. I scratched the ruff of her neck and leaned back in my chair.
Really, life had been strange since Sam and I had received Doug’s call, back when we were innocently making wedding plans on the bluff. That had led us to Carl, who had led us to Luis, who had led us to Plasti-Source.
“What an ugly name,” I said softly to the sleepy cat. “Harsh and hard. But I guess that’s appropriate for plastic.” I sighed, got up, and set Arabella next to Sam. Geronimo and Lestrade were already pressed against his left side. More warm companions. I grinned, then returned to the desk. I was still awake, and Camilla’s notes awaited.
I sat down and picked up a purple pen that Camilla had given me in August—she said it matched my purple chair. I began to scratch my notes on the paper, aware of my own gratitude: Camilla’s writing was always a pleasure to read; Sam was on the mend and tucked safely into a healing sleep; the kittens were all safe from the elements; Carl and Luis were both safe; Camilla and Adam were married; Belinda was safe and back with Doug, who loved her. The repeated theme there, I realized, was safety.
Nothing else mattered, really, if one wasn’t safe.
I looked at the dark window. Even in the blackness I could make out the motion of trees, tossing in the cold, windy night. The weather in Blue Lake, I had learned from experience, could be cruel and relentless.
An image came back to me, unbidden, of a man at Camilla’s dining room window, scowling, full of menace. He had nothing to do with Elena or her brothers. Who was he?
And what did he want from the people in Graham House?
The question kept me wakeful for another long hour.
20
The dark night. The ominous feeling. The ghostly pursuer.
All of these combine to create what we all seek in a Gothic suspense tale.
—From the notebooks of Camilla Graham
I WAS SEEING Luis Castellan—really seeing him—for the first time. Of course, now I remembered him from the book group discussions, but we had learned so many more dimensions of his life that it was like looking at a long-lost friend.
Doug had made the arrangements he had promised, installing both Luis and Carl in the old Lazos home in the middle of the night. Now Luis sat in front of a computer, Skyping with the members of law enforcement in Camilla Graham’s home so that, Doug said, “every darn piece of the puzzle can be accounted for” by the people who all knew one bit or another. Crammed into Camilla’s office, besides Camilla and Adam, were Doug, Cli
ff, Sam, Belinda, me, and Elena Castellan with her brother Joe. Luis had been told in advance whom to expect, but he still smiled wryly at Belinda and me. “Maybe we could do a quick book discussion while we’re here,” he joked.
“I’m game,” Belinda said, smiling.
Luis’s eyes went to Elena. “Hey, babe,” he said.
“Hey, babe.” Her eyes filled with tears as she waved.
“How you holdin’ up?” Luis said.
“A little better now that we’ve got a bigger team,” Elena said, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief Adam provided. “These guys have been great.” She gestured vaguely at all of us.
Luis nodded. “Yeah, I have to say these are classy accommodations. We’ve got everything at our fingertips. The advantage of staying in a millionaire’s lair, right?”
“Billionaire,” Doug said.
“Even better,” Luis joked.
Cliff looked restless. “We’ve got some questions for you, Luis. Are you all settled? Is it okay to get started on those?”
Luis grew more solemn. “Yeah, absolutely. Let’s get to the bottom of this so I can get home to that lady there.”
Doug and Cliff consulted each other briefly, then said, “Let’s start with the night that someone tried to shoot you. You didn’t see anyone? No sign of anything we could investigate further?”
He shrugged. “No. I’ve been going over it in my head. I just—it still doesn’t feel real. I mean, why me? I’m just an IT guy.” Carl appeared beside Luis, holding a cup of coffee. He offered it to his friend, and Luis claimed it and set it down, then pulled Carl onto the bench beside him, wrapping an arm around Carl’s shoulder and giving him a hearty half hug. “This guy! He’s like my little brother. Went around town looking for me when Elena killed me off.”
Carl grinned; he looked about twelve years old. “I knew you wouldn’t walk out on her,” Carl said. “I was right.”
“You were right,” Luis agreed, looking at Carl. Then he turned back to us, his brown eyes smiling. “Carl made me a breakfast so delicious I almost cried.”
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