The Vanishing

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  “Slater is no Roger Gossard,” Olivia said. “He wouldn’t dump a lover just because she became a liability to his brand.”

  Catalina felt her spirits lift a little. “No, Slater wouldn’t do that.”

  “Enough about you. Let’s talk about me. Does Emerson know what happened?”

  “He knows some of it. I called him first thing when I realized that you were missing. He was really pissed and also hurt, of course, because he assumed you were a no-show on that last date. I let him know that you had vanished and that I was really worried about you.”

  “What did he say to that?”

  “He insisted that when I found you I was to call him immediately.”

  Olivia sighed. “That’s all he said? You were supposed to let him know when you found me?”

  “Immediately,” Catalina said, trying for emphasis.

  “In other words, he didn’t charge through the front door of Lark and LeClair demanding to help you look for me?”

  Catalina cleared her throat. “He’s not a trained investigator, Olivia. There really wasn’t anything he could have done. He was worried, though. Seriously worried.”

  “Not worried enough.” Olivia swirled the wine in her glass. “If you went missing, Slater Arganbright would look for you until he found you.”

  Catalina’s spirits rose a little higher. Once again she tried to squash them flat. “Well, he is a trained investigator.”

  “That has nothing to do with it. I’ve got damn good intuition, remember? It may have let me down when it came to Emerson Ferris, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get a solid fix on Slater Arganbright. I don’t know if he loves you, but I know that you can trust him. If you ever went missing, he’d walk into hell to find you.”

  Catalina took a deep, steadying breath. “Yes, he would do that.”

  CHAPTER 36

  This is an interesting little community,” Lucas said, clearly amused. “I don’t know of any other town that houses its dangerous prisoners in the basement of the public library.”

  “It’s not like we’ve ever had a need to build a jail,” Catalina pointed out. She gave Lucas her brightest smile. “Not until this little problem involving a former Foundation employee and some clones from out of town.”

  They were sitting at a table in the Lake View Café. Olivia, Victor and Slater were there, too. She and Olivia had each ordered another glass of wine. Victor, Lucas and Slater were drinking whiskey. Some of the Foundation cleaners who had arrived with Lucas and Victor were eating at other tables. The rest were guarding the two triplets and Nyla Trevelyan. Victor had reported that the three were starting to wake up but that they were still groggy and confused. Regardless of their condition, they were scheduled to be taken away from Fogg Lake first thing in the morning, as soon as the fog dissipated.

  Victor looked deeply hurt by Catalina’s small slice of sarcasm.

  “We are aware that the situation here in Fogg Lake was provoked by a former Foundation employee,” he said. “It was an unfortunate development—”

  “No shit,” Catalina said.

  Slater gave his uncles a benign smile. “She usually goes with ‘oh, shit.’ Regardless, that particular turn of phrase should be interpreted as a sign that she’s annoyed.”

  Olivia raised her brows. “Catalina isn’t the only one who is irritated. We do realize that the Foundation can’t keep track of every former employee, but really, how can you explain the fact that Nyla Trevelyan was able to set herself up here in Fogg Lake a couple of decades ago and run a successful drug ring for years without drawing the attention of your ever-vigilant cleaners?”

  Victor grunted. “My cleaners weren’t even around until five years ago. Rancourt’s crowd was in charge before that, and they bought the story that York, or maybe I should say Trevelyan, had died along with her husband and best friend in the lab fire. As long as we’re asking questions, how do you explain the fact that a drug lord like Trevelyan was able to operate right under the noses of everyone in a town full of people endowed with psychic abilities?”

  “‘Drug lord’ may be a bit of a stretch,” Lucas said.

  “Just because a lot of people in this town can detect various kinds of paranormal energy and see auras doesn’t mean we can read minds,” Catalina said. “It’s not as if Nyla Trevelyan is a simple con artist. She was a very good herbalist. A lot of the locals benefited from her remedies. None of us had any reason not to trust her.”

  “You certainly can’t claim the Foundation has a better track record,” Olivia pointed out.

  Victor snorted. “You know what they say—it takes a psychic to fool a psychic.” He paused for emphasis. “And it takes a psychic to catch a psychic. Which is why the Foundation exists, Ms. Lark.”

  Catalina opened her mouth to respond. Slater moved fast to redirect the discussion.

  “Olivia, we got your message about Vortex,” he said.

  “Did you?” Olivia nodded. “Good. I wasn’t sure what it meant and I was still groggy from the drug. But I thought I heard one of the clones say the client thought I was her ticket into Vortex. They let me use the bathroom. I took a chance and left the note on the mirror.”

  Slater looked at Victor and Lucas. “Speaking of the clones, what do you know about them?”

  Victor frowned. “Clones?”

  “Just a figure of speech,” Catalina said. “That’s how the woman who witnessed the kidnapping in Seattle described them. We thought she was talking about twins. It wasn’t until the Oracle found a record of triplets who were born to a woman with a Fogg Lake connection that we realized the truth.”

  Victor put down his whiskey. A great stillness came over him.

  “What’s this about an oracle?” he repeated.

  “That’s what we call the librarian,” Olivia explained. “It’s a tradition around here.”

  “I see.” Victor looked intrigued but he did not ask any more questions.

  “About the triplets,” Slater said.

  “Right.” Victor hoisted his whiskey glass again. “The family name is Harkins. The one we picked up in Seattle is Deke Harkins. He finally woke up and started talking. From what we can tell, he and his brothers have been running cons and working the hot artifacts market for years. They did a fair amount of drug dealing on the side. They also did odd jobs as enforcers. Muscle for hire.”

  “They obviously have some talent,” Slater said. “At least enough to sense the vibes in paranormal artifacts. People who can’t pick up the energy infused in hot relics don’t last long in that business. Pretty sure the Harkinses are low-level aura readers, too. That’s probably why they were successful as con artists and drug dealers.”

  “Aura reading makes it easier to identify the marks and potential addicts,” Lucas said.

  Catalina caught Slater’s eye. She knew they were both thinking the same thing. There was one other piece of evidence that indicated that the Harkinses had a measure of talent. They had understood immediately what an icer could do to an aura.

  “The question is, how did Nyla Trevelyan get involved with the triplets?” Slater continued. “She’s been more or less stuck here in Fogg Lake for a couple of decades. She left town only occasionally. How did she find them?”

  Lucas swirled the whiskey in his glass. “Good question. We’re still working that angle.”

  Olivia paused her glass in midair. “I may be able to help you with that aspect of the investigation, but I’ll warn you up front that my memories are fuzzy because of the drug.”

  “Go on,” Lucas said.

  “At some point I heard one of the triplets tell Nyla, ‘We missed her. Don’t worry, we’ll get her.’”

  “Meaning me, no doubt,” Catalina said.

  “Yes.” Olivia looked at Victor and Lucas. “Nyla really lost it then. She screamed at the triplet. She said, ‘This is what I get f
or trying to keep it in the family.’”

  Victor and Lucas exchanged glances.

  “Well, now,” Lucas said softly. “Isn’t that interesting? We have no record of Nyla Trevelyan, or rather Alma York, having any family—certainly no close blood relatives.”

  Victor sat back in his chair. “Doesn’t mean there aren’t some. Our ancestry records are pathetic.”

  “For reasons of which we are all well aware,” Catalina said, using her most polite voice, “no one in Fogg Lake wants to wind up in the Foundation’s files.”

  Slater cleared his throat. “Let’s save that discussion for another time and place.”

  Olivia’s eyes sparked with amusement. “Sure. Take all the fun out of the evening. Personally, I rather enjoy watching Catalina take on the director of the Foundation.”

  Slater nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll admit that there is some entertainment value.”

  Victor glared at him. Lucas intervened swiftly.

  “The good news about our current situation,” he said, “is that once we’re finished questioning Trevelyan and the triplets—”

  “Sounds like a rock band,” Olivia said.

  Lucas ignored her. “Once we are done with them, we can turn them over to regular law enforcement. We’ve got more than enough evidence of kidnapping, drug dealing, attempted murder and conspiracy to commit murder to put them away for a while. Unfortunately, I doubt we’ll be able to prove that they murdered Royston and Ingram.”

  “I suppose Olivia and I will have to testify,” Catalina said. “Just what I need—more media coverage of my fake psychic powers.”

  “Not this time,” Victor said. “It’s safe to say there won’t be a trial. Trevelyan and those clones will confess, trust me.”

  “Uh-huh.” Catalina took a sip of her wine. “What makes you so sure of that?”

  Victor smiled a wolfish smile. “Because it will be made clear to them that if they don’t, they will be declared insane. They will end up at Halcyon Manor.”

  Olivia looked thoughtful. “Maybe they will prefer to take their chances in an asylum.”

  “Maybe, but I doubt it,” Lucas said. “At Halcyon Manor they will be guarded by people who know exactly what they are and how to deal with them. I think they’d rather risk the regular criminal justice system. Besides, the manor has enough problems dealing with people with some very dangerous parapsych disorders. We don’t want to fill up our limited facilities with a bunch of run-of-the-mill bad guys. But the Foundation will create detailed files and track them.”

  “I know the discovery of the Fogg Lake lab is a big deal,” Slater said, “but I’m surprised you both accompanied the team this afternoon.”

  “Professional courtesy,” Lucas explained. “We wanted to show some respect to the community. Let them know we appreciate the cooperation.”

  “Not sure our cunning plan is working,” Victor muttered. He looked around the sparsely filled restaurant. “Not a real friendly bunch, are they?”

  Catalina smiled. “Don’t worry, Victor. I’m sure that once they get to know you, they’ll warm up to you and realize what a swell person you really are.”

  CHAPTER 37

  Catalina waited until she was sure Olivia had finally fallen asleep before she got out of bed. The two of them were sharing the big bed in the master bedroom. Olivia had looked amused when Catalina had insisted on changing the sheets, but she had not made any comments about the rather obvious implications. Slater had been relegated to the narrow bed in Catalina’s old room.

  Most of the members of the Foundation team had brought sleeping bags and had been provided temporary quarters in the library. Euclid had announced that in the morning the town council would open up some of the old cabins that were rarely used.

  For one extremely disconcerting moment Catalina had been afraid she would be left with no option but to allow Victor and Lucas to unroll their sleeping bags in her parents’ house. Luckily Euclid had made it clear that protocol dictated that the director of the Foundation and his husband should be guests of the mayor and his wife.

  Catalina pulled on her robe, slid her bare feet into slippers and paused to adjust the covers over Olivia.

  “I’m asleep,” Olivia mumbled. “You can go now. He’s in the front room.”

  “Are you psychic or something?”

  “Something.”

  “Get some sleep, pal.”

  Olivia squeezed Catalina’s hand. “I will.”

  Catalina went out the door and down the short hall. Slater was standing at the window looking out into the glowing fog.

  “Can’t sleep?” he asked softly.

  “Not yet,” she said. She walked across the room and stopped at his side, close but not quite touching. “Think you’ll be able to get some sleep tonight?”

  “Maybe. Eventually.”

  He reached for her hand. She gave it to him. They stood quietly.

  “Do you think it’s over?” she asked after a while.

  “Almost. We still don’t know who committed the murder that you and Olivia witnessed fifteen years ago.”

  “It wasn’t one of the triplets, we can be sure of that much. They look nothing like the man who killed Morrissey. In any event, they would have been too young. The murderer was in his twenties at the time.”

  “We’ve got a lot to go on now,” Slater said. “Sooner or later we’ll identify him. Victor and Lucas are right. Trevelyan and the clones will talk. Just a matter of time.”

  “It will be good to get back to normal.”

  Slater turned her so that she faced him. He put his hands around her waist.

  “How do you define normal?” he said. “Asking for a friend.”

  She gripped his shoulders. “Darned if I know. Olivia and I have always figured that as long as we weren’t locked up in an institution, we were on the right side of normal.”

  “This friend, the one who’s asking for a definition, he was locked up for a while. It was an attic, not an institution, but you get the picture. Pretty much the same thing.”

  “But he’s out in the world now.”

  “Still not anywhere close to normal, though. Never will be.”

  “Tell me why your friend cares about the answer.”

  Slater framed her face between his hands. “He desperately wants to be able to offer the promise of normal to a certain person. But he knows that he can’t do that.”

  “If the certain person in question is not exactly normal herself, she won’t care about a promise like that.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely positive.”

  He drew her closer. “I know it’s too soon to talk about the possibility of a future together, but I need to tell you that I’ve been thinking about it since we ran into each other on the street. I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m not asking for a commitment. Not yet. But if you could give me some time, I’ll do everything in my power to show you that I’m serious about a future together.”

  She took her hands off his shoulders and wound her arms around his neck.

  “How much time do you think you’ll need?” she asked.

  Energy whispered in the atmosphere.

  “Whatever it takes,” he said. “I’m all in, here, Catalina. I love you.”

  She traced the corner of his mouth with the edge of one finger.

  “I thought there would be fireworks,” she said. “Lots of sizzle and heat and flash-bang energy.”

  Slater went very still. His aura got a little more intense. In the shadows it was impossible to read his eyes, but she sensed he was steeling himself for grim news.

  “When did you expect all that to happen?” he said.

  “When I found the man I’ve been looking for, the one I could love. I just assumed there would be a little lightning in the atmosphere.”
<
br />   “Are you telling me that you don’t think you could fall in love with me?”

  “No. I’m telling you that I am in love with you.”

  “But no fireworks? No lightning?”

  She smiled. “Oh, there is plenty of both. But there is something even more amazing. What I feel is a sense of certainty. Of rightness. I feel grounded and at the same time I think I could fly.”

  He threaded his fingers through her hair. “That’s how I feel, too. A sense of rightness.”

  “People are going to tell us that it’s too soon,” Catalina warned. “That we’ve been through a lot of drama in recent days and that makes everything more intense.”

  “Who is going to tell us those things?”

  “Our families. Olivia.”

  “Nope, not me,” Olivia said from the doorway. “You two look like a perfect match. On behalf of the staff of Lark and LeClair, I offer my sincere congratulations. Now, would you mind taking it into a bedroom? I’m trying to get a little sleep here.”

  Slater laughed. The sound burst forth in a roar that seemed to emanate from somewhere deep inside him. Catalina was startled, and then a sense of wonder came over her. It was, she realized, the first time she had heard him laugh. They really did have a lot to learn about each other. The drama of the past few days was mostly over, but their adventure together was just beginning.

  Olivia smiled at Catalina and disappeared back down the hallway.

  Slater scooped up Catalina and carried her toward her old bedroom.

  “Now that we’ve got the important stuff settled,” he said, “let’s see about the fireworks and lightning part.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “That sounds like a very good idea.”

  He got her into the bedroom and paused long enough to allow her to close and lock the door. He set her on her feet, pulled aside the covers and stripped off her flannel pajamas.

  He kissed her with enough intensity to set off the fireworks. The lightning came next. A hungry, urgent, aching tension built within her.

  She flattened her palms against his bare chest and drew her hands down to the waistband of his trousers. She unfastened his pants, her fingers shivering a little, but not from the evening chill. Gingerly she lowered the zipper, cautious of the heavy bulge of his erection.