“Thank you both, so much,” Scarlet said as Rose and Joe left the bathroom.
“And I’m taking Prudence,” Joe voiced over his shoulder. “I don’t want her waking you too early.”
Scarlet laughed as she heard Rose sarcastically say, “That’ll be why he’s taking her.”
Following the sounds of laughter, Scarlet located her father, Niles, Tom, and James, sitting in the sunroom.
Evidently, the cause of this joviality was Prudence, standing on her hind feet, looking lovingly at Joe.
“Scar!” Niles declared, “you didn’t tell us Prudence knew how to shake hands.”
Blushing, as James stood to acknowledge her entrance, Scarlet admitted, “I didn’t know.”
Grinning, Tom said, “There’s no hard scientific proof, but we do believe she just snorted, I love you, to your father.”
Patting the vacant sofa cushion next to him, Joe enquired, “How do you feel? Did you sleep well?”
Scarlet accepted the seat. “I slept very well. What about you guys?”
Tom and Niles informed the room of heavy overnight police presence, still in force at their house. Standing to achieve the best result, Tom, statue still, imparted, “Please inform us if you hear or see any unusual activities around the home, Sir.”
Niles said, “I wanted to ask him to define unusual. The motley crew cleaning our home this morning certainly fits my description.”
Sitting down, Tom explained, “Mrs. Teague, our housekeeper, enlists her grandchildren for cleaning duty after big parties.”
“We pay them, of course,” Niles interjected seriously.
“Three, even two years ago,” Tom continued, “they looked like ordinary, pimply youths. Now, they have those massive holes in their ears and bars through their lips.”
“Poor Mrs. Teague,” Niles contributed. “She won’t let us leave the house without combing our hair, I can’t imagine how mortifying their fashion sense is to her.”
Chuckling, Scarlet turned slightly to find James’ steel blue eyes gazing at her intently. Having been caught, he smiled self-consciously.
Momentarily tongue-tied by the sight of him, Scarlet took a few seconds to clear her throat. “Where’s Gran?”
“On the phone with your Mom,” Joe replied. “We didn’t want to alarm her last night, but also didn’t want to wait too long if that makes sense.”
Scarlet nodded, and the room fell silent.
Almost hidden under a large wooden tray, Rose, exclaiming her delight at seeing Scarlet looking rested, entered the room.
Eagerly and full of thanks, the guests helped themselves to the selection of juices and hot drinks.
At the invitation to sit, Rose said, “I’ve got crepes, queijadas, banana streusel muffins, Irish soda bread, and all other kinds of naughtiness for us to celebrate with.”
James stood. “Let me help you, Mrs. Oaks.”
Taking his arm and insisting he call her Rose, the two made their way to the kitchen.
Wasting no time, Tom enquired with an exaggerated whisper, “What do you think, Scarlet? Could he be a serious contender?”
Delivering a swift slap to Tom’s shoulder, Niles asked, “What is this, a boxing match?”
Deflated, Tom sat back on the wicker sofa.
Scarlet gave him a reassuring smile. “I like him a lot, Tom. He’s incredibly easy and fun to talk with. And… he makes me feel safe.”
Ignoring Tom’s dagger eyes, Niles said, “Safe is really good right now.”
Seriously appetizing smells wafted in with the return of Rose and James.
Plates fervently filled, Niles, having decided his good friend was as steady and strong as ever, said, “Okay, Scar, I can’t wait any longer. How did he manage to make you vanish before our very eyes?”
The room fell silent. Everyone shifted forward on floral, cushioned seats, in curious anticipation of Scarlet’s response.
Scarlet swallowed a piece of butter laden soda bread. “The library was pretty noisy, and I couldn’t hear Larry, who I thought he was at the time, from behind his mask. I did think it odd that he wouldn’t help the communication problem and just take it off. But, some people do take a masquerade theme very seriously.”
Her audience nodded their agreement, and Scarlet took a small sip of grapefruit juice. “He cupped a hand around one of his partially visible ears and then motioned towards the foyer. Our perceived improved location was next to Tom’s Greek bust, but he never said another word. It was beyond awkward, and I was just about to give up and return to James when I felt something jab into my ribs.”
Following a collective gasp, Scarlet explained, “This person, whom I now assumed wasn’t Larry, handed me a note. It confirmed the hard object pushing into my side was indeed a gun. Listed in numerical order were my instructions. First, I had to walk a few steps to the cupboard under the spiral staircase, stand with my back to it, and then push back and release.”
“It’s a concealed door,” Niles said. “Just one gentle push and it springs open.”
Tom shook his head. “Smyth said they checked every closet and cupboard, but of course you were long gone from the foyer by the time they arrived.”
Nodding, Scarlet went on, “Secondly, I had to change into the banquet style clothes I would find in a backpack on the cupboard floor. My third instruction was to return to him promptly, or he would come in and retrieve me. Fourth, was to walk calmly beside him to the kitchen. Fifth and final was to say nothing to anyone, including the kitchen door monitor.”
Scarlet looked at James. “I knew it wouldn’t be long until you noticed I was missing. I contemplated taking my sweet time in the cupboard, but the thought of him coming in after me was too scary.”
Running hands through his hair, James said, “He must have had you out of the house in little over five minutes. Of course, the kitchen may have been one of the last rooms we searched.”
Giving him an understanding smile, Scarlet continued to the group, “To be honest, I was relieved to be leaving the party. I knew at this point, it was Stewart. Being painfully aware of what the man’s capable of, I didn’t want him loose in the house with a weapon. He kept a tight hold of my arm, the gun ever present against my ribs. We walked slowly towards, well you know where. The tears came, and I pleaded with him to let me go. He never said a word. Finally, we reached that little barn. His flashlight was pretty pathetic so I couldn’t tell where he was putting me. He lowered me down on this little shelf thing. I don’t know how far underground I was, but with each inch, it got darker and colder. Then I heard him slowly crank the shelf up to the surface. Minutes later, it came back down with something on it. He tells me it’s a backpack and I’ll find a vase and flowers inside. I’m then instructed to put the flowers in the vase and place them in front of me. Once I did this, the shelf went back up. Then he calmly asks me to describe the flowers to him. It was the first time he sounded like the Stewart I recognized from Mending Men. That slow voice and bizarre self-confirmation thing he does. The light he was shining down was so weak, I could only see an outline. I had to assume they were the same wildflowers he’d placed on my car and faked it. Minutes later, his demeanor changed drastically. It was like he was suddenly in a rush. Was I thankful? he asked me. Did I love the flowers and appreciate the thought behind them? Then I heard the shelf come back down and from the creaking and straining it sounded like he was on it.”
“Oh no, he was down there with you!” Tom breathed.
Scarlet frowned. “I honestly don’t know for sure, but I think he may have been. But then, minutes later, I heard a loud ping which was unmistakably the pully cable being cut.”
Breaking for a gulp of tea, Scarlet let her body relax into the seat, allowing her grandmother to say, “You were incredibly brave and composed, my darling.”
Scarlet smiled as the others concurred. “I never heard another word from him, but was afraid to shout for help, in case he was still there. It didn’t seem long at all until I heard Ja
mes’ voice. Only when the firefighter came down with a powerful flashlight could I tell for sure Stewart wasn’t down there.”
For the next half hour, Scarlet listened to the information from her rescuers’ point of view. The lion’s share was delivered by Tom, with occasional contradictions from Niles.
James’ contribution was that he planned never to send Scarlet flowers. After much-needed laughter, Joe proposed,
“I think it’s time we let Scarlet call her mom.” Looking at his daughter, Joe added, “I promised her you’d be in touch within a couple of hours.”
Scarlet nodded her agreement and James, Niles, and Tom began returning empty plates and cups to the kitchen.
Stealing a moment, while Niles and Tom thanked Rose for the delicious brunch, James asked Scarlet if she’d mind him stopping by the following day.
Wondering when she’d stop blushing at the sound of his voice, Scarlet said, “I’d like that. I want you to finish that first memory.”
Promising her he would do anything she asked of him, James thanked Rose and Joe for their hospitality, before following Niles and Tom out the door.
An hour later, Scarlet was fifty minutes into a call with her mom.
“Why….” her mother’s voice filled the bedroom, “do some families have all the bad luck, while others just sail through life?”
Rubbing her hands across a lavender and cream silk bedspread, Scarlet said, “I’m actually feeling really lucky right now, Mom. Some families do have more than their share of tragedies; we’ve been fort…”
“Look at the Babcocks, for example,” Marilyn interrupted. “Three daughters married and their son just started his residency.”
“Peter’s going to be a doctor?” Scarlet enquired, pushing off her bed and walking towards the bay window.
“Oh yes,” Marilyn said. “He’s such a sensible, well-adjusted, young man.”
Smiling in remembrance of a drunken Peter making lewd advances to her one summer evening, Scarlet said, “Isn’t he, though.”
Marilyn began to cry softly. Scarlet moved closer to where she’d left her phone by the bed. “Mom, it’s okay. Everything will work out well for our family, too.”
“You could have been killed,” Marilyn sobbed.
Scarlet picked up the phone and moved over to the window seat. “I honestly don’t believe he would have hurt me. I’ll come down to Aptos soon, and you can see for yourself how well and happy I am.”
Her voice cracking, Marilyn said, “There’s something else.”
“Oh?” Scarlet replied, then paused for her mother to continue.
“Trent’s gone.”
When Marilyn left it at that, Scarlet enquired, “What do you mean, gone?”
Sounding exasperated, Marilyn explained, “Lisa called me this morning. Apparently, they had an argument last night. Trent took off and hasn’t returned.”
Slowly exhaling, Scarlet said, “Well, it’s only been one night. He’s probably still asleep on some friend’s couch.”
In a small voice, Marilyn said, “Lisa told me, they have an understanding. If Trent is ever gone overnight for anything other than work, he knows he’ll never be able to return.”
Scarlet rubbed her temples. “Why am I not surprised? So, Lisa was letting you know, even if he does come back, it’s over as far as she’s concerned because he broke one of her rules.”
Marilyn’s reply came amid short, sharp breaths. “She was so rude to me, Scarlet. All but told me I’d never see my grandsons again.”
“Don’t worry, Mom,” Scarlet soothed. “We’ll sort it all out, I promise.”
“Thank you, my sweet girl,” Marilyn sniffed. “You will come see me very soon?”
“Just as soon as the police say it’s safe to do so, I’ll be there,” Scarlet confirmed.
“And you’ll stay for more than one night?”
A beep signaling another call interrupted Scarlet’s response.
Taken aback by the number showing Niles and Tom’s landline, Scarlet distractedly said,
“For sure, Mom. I’ll call you soon.”
Accepting the incoming call, Scarlet voiced, “I thought you only kept this phone, so your gardener could covertly call Mexico?”
“You didn’t take the flowers with you, no you didn’t,” came the, now unmistakable, voice of Stewart Steele.
Paralyzed with fear, Scarlet stared out the window. A middle-aged woman strolled down the street, her sweater-clad dachshund trotting by her side. The woman looked so calm, so normal. Didn’t she know Niles and Tom were in danger?
Trying, but failing, to regulate her breathing, Scarlet slowly walked towards an antique writing desk.
“I couldn’t,” she stammered, “a firefighter lifted me up. I didn’t have time …”
“You’re lying,” the eerie voice interrupted.
With a shaking hand, Scarlet wrote, Steele is at Niles’ home. Call Police.
“I’m not lying, Stewart,” Scarlet professed while exiting her bedroom.
Finding her father first, Scarlet put a finger to her mouth before Joe had a chance to speak.
Confused, Joe accepted the paper from Scarlet.
Color draining from his face, Joe reached into his pocket. Retrieving his cell phone, he turned and made his way to the library. Scarlet, standing between the kitchen and dining area, continued, “It all happened so quickly. I had been admiring them for a long time, then a man on a rope …”
Again, not allowing her to finish, Stewart Steele said, “You knew they were coming, yes you did. Your boyfriend told you they were on their way. It would have taken two seconds to grab the flowers. Why aren’t you grateful?”
Walking towards her, Joe nodded. Then, hand on heart, stood listening.
“I am very grateful,” Scarlet reiterated. “They were beautiful flowers.”
Hearing movement from the kitchen, Joe rushed off to warn his mother.
“I want to believe you, yes I do,” Stewart said. “I don’t want you to be like the others, no I don’t.”
Feeling as if she might faint, Scarlet, backed up to the winding staircase. Grabbing onto the wooden rail, she gingerly eased down onto a partially carpeted step.
Words refusing to come, Scarlet waited, painfully aware how loud her breathing was.
“Willy Wonka wasn’t a bad man,” Stewart said slowly. “But he knew those kids had to be taught a lesson, yes he did. It wasn’t like they weren’t warned. They just took and took. Wonka put a swift end to that.”
“Willy Wonka,” Scarlet heard herself say, knowing she was losing her ability to focus.
Rose and Joe now both stood in front of her. Scarlet imagined their looks of horror mirrored hers.
Stewart asked, “May I still call your show for help?”
“Yes of course,” came Scarlet’s shaky reply. Gaining strength from her father and grandmother’s presence, she added, “I could thank you on the air for the beautiful flowers you gave me.”
Hearing his tone change, to what Scarlet guessed might be as happy as he was capable of sounding, Stewart said, “That would be very good, yes it would. Then everyone would know, yes they would.”
Again, a lengthy pause before Stewart concluded, “East Coast cops know how to think like a mole person.”
And with that, he hung up.
Brown Trader Joe’s bags looked out of place atop a highly polished burgundy leather inlaid desk. Tom sat perched on the very edge of a button tufted leather sofa, while Niles paced in front of the fire.
Joe and Rose stood back a few feet while Scarlet hugged her friends.
“We’re fine,” Niles responded to Scarlet’s panicked expression. “If he was here, which I highly doubt, he’s not now.”
Turning from a small huddle of dark-suited men, Detective Smyth said, “I’m afraid he was here, Mr. Remmy.”
Niles staring open-mouthed, left Tom to ask, “How is that possible? He would have been seen.”
Scarlet turned to see Niles and
Tom’s housekeeper, Mrs. Teague, allowing James entry to the library.
Displaying half his usual breadth of a smile, James walked up to Scarlet and discreetly squeezed her hand.
All attention was on Detective Smyth as he reached into the inner breast pocket of his navy suit. Instead of his signature notepad, he produced what looked to be a hand-written note.
“He’s playing with us now,” Smyth said. “Let me know if anything written here makes sense to you.”
With only the sound of cracking wood from the fireplace, Smyth unfolded the note and read aloud, “Dad always said kids should be seen and not heard. Mom said they shouldn’t be seen either.”
Looking up at his audience and receiving the blank stares he’d anticipated, Smyth continued reading, “If you keep quiet, you don’t need much air. Mom said I was an oxygen thief.”
Not bothering to look up as he turned the piece of paper over, Smyth finished, “As they said in the days of the Roman Empire, Molus Iracus.”
“What a bunch of mumbo jumbo,” Tom proclaimed, watching Smyth return the note to his pocket.
Eyes focused on his phone, James reported, “Molus Iracus is Latin for Mole.”
“He mentioned Mole,” Scarlet said. “Something about a mole and East Coast Police.”
Smyth looked at Niles. “You believe there is a tunnel beneath this home, but it’s boarded up. Have you ever located the entrance?”
Shaking his head, Niles responded, “The grandmother of the woman I purchased this home from was big into secret, concealed areas. I was never told where they were and suffering from claustrophobia, never had the desire to look.”
Having joined Smyth, while additional policemen searched the grounds, Detective Williams asked, “But in the two-plus years you’ve lived here, you’ve never come across anything inside, or on the grounds, resembling an entrance?”
Frowning in concentration, Niles at length replied, “Nothing.”
Giving floor to ceiling bookcases more scrutiny than she ever had before, Scarlet enquired, “Did these books all come with the house?”
Looking at the objects of interest, Niles said, “Yes. They’re all classics. Too deep for me. I only read books that advise me how to make more money.”
Scarlet Oaks and the Serial Caller Page 25
