“You speak in riddles,” he griped. “I will observe and learn.”
Mariah snorted. “Good luck with that. That’s Val going in with Brenda. Hurry. I don’t think Val has ever been inside. Sam has to be nuts to invite her aunt into Lance’s domain.”
Not showing any sign of pain or weakness after his encounter with a bullet, Keegan strolled along at her side, greeting Harvey standing guard at the door. She liked that he didn’t get grumpy when she took the lead, but she had to wonder if he was hurting.
She really wasn’t much used to thinking of others, she realized.
Had she thought about Adera’s situation, she’d have recognized the potential for retaliation. But she’d only been thinking in terms of herself, and she’d always been able to fight back. Adera had been tied down by love and family that had never hampered Mariah.
So, she was as self-involved as the trolls and belonged in a cave. She cringed as ghosts of the past warned she could never touch a computer again.
She could change. Now that her nose wasn’t buried in a keyboard, she could observe. Tonight, she’d practice being sociable—like Keegan.
She turned at a loud voice at the door. Harvey was blocking a tourist from entering. The barn had been a good idea if they meant to keep out strangers.
Track lighting illuminated the paintings and pottery on the walls of the meeting house. Lance and Teddy’s sister had been working on the gallery for a week or more. In the empty center of the hall, where the lighting didn’t reach, the mayor unfolded chairs.
Mariah felt everyone inside hush expectantly as Val entered in her long black veil and floor-length lace dress. Sam rushed up to greet her aunt, but she kept her voice to a whisper.
“I need super hearing,” Mariah muttered, towing Keegan toward the artwork. “Val is likely to kill someone before the evening ends.”
“She is dangerous? I thought she was Daisy’s friend.” Keegan peered at the first portrait displayed—an early depiction of the mayor and his brother as young boys.
Impatiently, Mariah urged him on. “Have you met Kurt and Monty’s uncle? The tall, gray-haired man up at the front, by the triptych—that’s Lance. He did most of the portraits in here. He used to be an architect until he blew his mind on drugs. He’s been recovering for some years now. This gallery is the first time he’s displayed his art. Val features preeminently in half of them.”
Mariah strolled a little faster, hoping to be near when Val exploded. Sam had grown up sheltered and naïve and might be expecting a normal reaction to the surprise Lance had set up. Val did not do normal.
So, maybe she hadn’t been completely unobservant these past years if she knew that much.
“Why do I feel as if we should be passing out shots of whiskey?” Keegan asked, finally noticing her tension.
“Whiskey might make things interesting if Kurt sets up a tavern in town. We could pick up our drinks on the way to watch the dramatics. You can import Scots malt for him.”
“This happens often?” he asked in justifiable confusion.
“Only every time the Lucys get together. I used to think it was Cass who kept the nest stirred, but Sam has caught on quickly. Except without the vortex to raise psychic awareness, the meeting house might not be as magical. Lance isn’t a Lucy. Neither is Monty, Kurt, or Walker. She’s invited Nulls and is mixing it up.”
As Val halted at a portrait, Mariah waited half way between the diva and the entrance. She could tell Keegan was picking out the Nulls in the crowd. Most of them were conversing at the front of the room with no understanding of the drama unfolding. That was fine. They needed to be out of range.
Val froze. In front, Lance stood equally frozen, watching her. Gradually, even the Nulls noticed and turned to watch.
In a dramatic arm gesture an opera diva might use to indicate great passion, Val silently marched to the next portrait. And the next. Her skirts whirled. Her veil blew in a nonexistent wind. Her silence was almost as dramatic as her voice. Mariah admired the performance. “I wish I’d seen her on stage.”
“The town could produce Shakespeare, and she could play all the parts,” Keegan agreed in what sounded like awe.
“Poor, shy Lance. He really doesn’t have a chance of surviving unscathed.” Mariah headed toward Sam, who waited nervously where her aunt had abandoned her.
The painting Val had condemned was one of a striking black-haired young woman in Shakespearian costume, her face contorted into shrewish anger.
“Why tonight?” Mariah asked Sam as Val continued her circuit of the room, blatantly ignoring the artist following her every move.
“I thought an audience would make the confrontation less. . . incendiary,” Sam admitted. “Poor Lance has put his heart and soul out there for everyone to see. I don’t want Val shooting him down and sending him back to drugs.”
“What about poor Val?” Mariah gestured at the painting. “He’s put her unscarred beauty all over the walls—the beauty she’ll never be again. She’s likely to go after his work and him with a knife.”
Keegan straightened at the warning. If Mariah didn’t know better, she’d fear he was going for his dirk. Abandoning her, he strode for the nervous artist. The Scot had only one damned usable arm, and he was riding to the rescue anyway. Because Keegan paid attention to others, and his sense of justice was as strong as hers, she was learning.
Sam touched another of the portraits of a costumed performer. “Val is still talented. Lance is right. She needs to quit hiding.”
Keeping one eye on Val, Mariah checked the various portraits along this side of the hall. They’d been interspersed with other artwork and shelves of pottery, but Lance’s inspired vision of Val on the stage dominated the display.
“I wish I’d seen her in those productions,” Sam said, almost wistfully, indicating the portrait that looked like Taming of the Shrew and another that could only be Hair. “She must be tremendously talented.”
“Well, she certainly knows how to command attention.” Mariah took off across the room in Val’s direction before the climax of the evening had a chance to start. She could feel Val’s vibrations that intensely.
In front of a particularly large painting, Val emitted a low, almost musical shriek that built in a frenzied crescendo. It echoed off the high rafters and ended in Val melting into a puddle of lace on the floor.
“Well, that starts off this meeting with a dramatic performance,” Sam said loudly as she reached the front of the room.
Designed as a church or meeting hall, the acoustics carried her voice over the rising murmurs of concern as the Nulls ran to Val. Understanding Sam’s plan, Mariah almost grinned. She applauded instead.
“Let’s all give a hand to Valerie Ingersson and her performance of Tosca,” Mariah called, stepping up to the role of assistant that she usually shared with Cass. “Lance, if you’d carry the lady out, we’ll continue with the business of this meeting—the crystal canyon.”
Of course Lance couldn’t carry Val out by himself. A middle-aged woman was no slender ingénue, and Lance was no longer a muscular young man. It took both Kennedys to help their uncle lift her. Sending a narrow-eyed warning to Mariah and Sam, Brenda hurried out after them.
From his place near Walker, Keegan studied the situation. But with his one arm in a sling, he couldn’t be useful with Val. Instead of following the other Nulls, he chose to take a seat near Aaron off to one side, remaining with the Lucys.
“And Cass carried this show alone, how?” Sam whispered as Mariah approached.
“By slowly learning each one of her flock as we appeared. You start the meeting, I’ll make the report, and then we’ll let the men think they’re organizing us,” Mariah murmured back.
“Cynic.” With her walking stick, Sam rapped the railing and waited for the buzzing to silence before speaking. “Mariah and Keegan have a problem to resolve. I’ll let them explain.”
“Mediator,” Mariah whispered back as Sam stepped aside, and Keegan, looki
ng surprised, got up from his seat.
Sam only chuckled as the roomful of Lucys sat up and took heed for a change.
Mariah outlined her hope of finding crystal deposits and using them to compare with the ones that had been inherited and possibly those used in the artwork. She admitted she had no idea how this might relate to finding Daisy’s killer, unless someone else was after the crystals, and Daisy had discovered them.
Keegan explained the limitations of entering the canyon, the range of the shooters, and the dangers involved. He admitted he didn’t see how they could go in safely, even with Walker’s armed men providing official cover.
Sam stepped up. “I was hoping we could do what we did to prevent the avalanche—use our staffs as a vehicle of guiding the energy we feel. But I don’t know how it works, and stopping men with guns isn’t the same as stopping rocks.”
Wearing her colorful African garb, Tullah stood. “We will need vehicles to transport us as far as possible. We all know our places around the Ingersson farm, but you say this canyon is two miles further out. That’s more than many of us can walk. And once we arrive, we’ll have to explore positions. I don’t think we can do more than that on this first visit.”
That’s what Mariah had feared. They had a posse, but groups were never nimble. She suggested horses and several people agreed they could ride. The ATV could make multiple trips for those who couldn’t walk far. There would be utterly no element of surprise—except in what they might be able to do. And even the Lucys didn’t know that for certain. There was no encyclopedia or Google search to explain the vortex or the strong earth energy they all sensed and manipulated.
“We can hope we scare the shooters off with just our presence,” Harvey suggested, adding with his usual cynicism, “We can wear magic hats and flourish batons and chant.”
Sam stepped up and waved away the laughter. “You do just that, Harvey. The rest of us can bring the guardians Daisy created. We’ll congregate in the parking lot at 5 AM tomorrow. That’s when Walker’s crew will be striking out. Those of us driving will park at the farm entrance. We can hike, ride horses, or take the ATV from there. Walker’s men aren’t any less conspicuous, so maybe they’ll scare off the shooters first. That will clear the way so we can look for positions while his men go into the canyon. Walker believes this is Menendez land. He talked to the owners this afternoon, and they say they’ve not leased the land to anyone. So if nothing else, perhaps we can warn off trespassers, let them know we’re watching, and they’ll go away.”
Teddy, the jeweler, was new to Hillvale and had never attended a Lucy meeting. She’d simply been listening, but now she stood to add, “If no one minds, I’d like to go down in the canyon to see the crystals. If they have power, we may need to be careful about removing them.”
“Unless you’re prepared to carry a weapon besides a staff, I’d suggest you stay on top with the others until we see what’s there. I’ll see that no one touches the crystals except me. Will that suffice for this first venture?” Keegan asked.
Teddy nodded and sat down. Teddy knew more about crystal powers than any person in this room. Keegan had one good arm and only knew molecular structure. Mariah would smack the man for his arrogance, but then she’d have to smack Teddy for being dense. Observe, she reminded herself.
After a few brief discussions of details, Sam dismissed the crowd. As they filed out, Keegan leaned over and whispered in Mariah’s ear, “Now can we go to your place and discuss our plans?”
A frisson of fear and a shiver of excitement rushed through her. Was she ready for this?
Eighteen
July 10:Tuesday, late evening
Even though he’d bought the ATV with the intention of giving it to the town—he certainly couldn’t transport it back to Scotland—Keegan kept the keys as he escorted Mariah out of the meeting house. He could tell she was prepared to stalk straight up the back alley and lane to her cottage without speaking to anyone. He respected that. But he held her shoulder as he greeted the Nulls gathering in the parking lot. She didn’t have to talk to them, but he did.
And he wanted to go wherever she did, so they needed to work it out.
“How is Miss Ingersson?” he asked of Kurt and Walker, who leaned against the chief’s car waiting for their Lucy partners.
“Brenda says Val is fine. We took her back to Cass’s place.” Walker watched as Sam left the hall, chatting with animation. “I take it the Lucys are joining us in the morning?”
“It appears so, but only in the position of observers,” Keegan said.
Beneath his hand, Mariah wriggled restlessly. She was like the hawk she claimed to use, not comfortable around others.
Keegan didn’t linger to discuss the problem of meddling Lucys. He’d simply wanted to ensure that he was included in Null consultations. He didn’t want to be written off as a Lucy. He didn’t know why people insisted on using derogatory terms for people unlike themselves, even intelligent people like these. But as an outsider, he needed to engage both sides.
After saying his farewells, Keegan followed Mariah through the dark and up the hill toward the cemetery, grateful she didn’t tell him to stuff it.
“I’d offer wine,” he said as they traipsed up the path. “But the hospital gift shop didn’t sell any. Would you rather go to the lodge?”
“I’d rather not think,” she growled. “We aren’t dating. We didn’t meet in a bar. I’ve never gone to bed with a friend. So I need to think of you as a means to an end, and quit trying to put the friend hat on you. It’s taking some mental rearranging.”
He chuckled, relieved that she accepted where this evening would end, and that he hadn’t been fooling himself that she shared his interest. “Your definition of dating is having someone to call when you need sex? You don’t date men you talk to? Which makes your definition of friend just exactly what?”
“Until now, exclusively female or gay,” she said, sounding surly. “I don’t talk to Harvey and Aaron unless I have to. They’re like fellow workers. But you. . . You’re like a Heisenbug that’s crept into my code and can’t be dug out.”
He feared she was calling him a virus, but with someone as thick-skinned as Mariah, maybe that’s what he needed to be. “I’ll admit, I’m new to dating as well. I travel. I don’t have time to make friends. I find willing women who want what I want. Then Bri decided we should be partners, so I’ve been with her for a while. It severely curtailed my activities while traveling since I had some notion that engagement meant fidelity. But I never really dated her, not in the getting-to-know-each-other way. So this is an educational experience for both of us.”
“We’re not dating,” she pointed out. “There is nowhere to date here. We’re encountering.”
“Suits me. Is this your place?” He studied the tiny cottage that looked no bigger than a hobbit hole, in a lane of equally tiny burrows. “It needs a thatched roof to match the fairy tale look.”
“This is California. We’re lucky there aren’t wooden shakes. Someone had the sense to replace the old ones with fireproof shingles or you’d have the full quaint bungalow fantasy.” She unlocked the door and let him in.
Inside, the interior was surprisingly spacious and modern. The ceiling had been lifted to the roof. The living room and kitchen occupied the entire front of the house. He guessed the bedroom and bath were behind the door on the rear wall. Mariah was tidy and apparently had no possessions. The furniture looked 20th century rental—faux suede couch and recliner in massive proportions and a TV over the fireplace. The coffee table stacked with magazines was the only personal touch he noted.
She crossed the Saltillo tile floor to the refrigerator and removed two cans of beer. “I think this evening justifies the calories. How’s your shoulder? Do you need Tylenol?”
He produced a small container of pills from his pocket, accepted the beer, and swallowed gratefully. “The stitches hurt,” he admitted. “I’ll survive.”
“It could have been worse.�
�� She sipped her beer and studied him worriedly. “You scared the hell out of me.”
That she’d worried about him heated the lust factor to the nth degree. Keegan tried to roll it down a notch. “Could have fooled me. You performed like an experienced combat officer. Were you in the military?”
Without being invited, he took his beer to her overlarge couch and relaxed on it. Furniture his size was a luxury.
“I was pretty much raised in rural areas like this. We had to be self-sufficient.” She settled cross-legged on the cushion next to him. “I learned to get things done. I’ve been called unfeminine for that attitude.”
Keegan couldn’t control the urge. He liked touching. He stroked the length of her silky, beaded braid. She didn’t dodge away. “Trolls don’t appreciate courageous women. You needed to be out of their cave.”
She sent him a wary look, but he didn’t admit he’d figured out who she was.
She relaxed and sipped her beer. “I’ll probably never be a girly sort.”
Keegan held the beer with the hand in a sling and wrapped the other around her shoulder, dragging her toward him. Just having her giving curves against his side made him feel at home for the first time in a long time. “You needn’t be girly and worry over me. I’ve been shot, stung, bit, and knifed far from medical services and survived. I’ll admit I tire of doing it alone. So it was a pleasant change to have you to take charge.”
He loved the way she glowered at him, as if she thought he poked fun. He bent over and gave her a quick kiss, just to remember the flavor of her lips, and to reassure her that he meant it.
She tasted of beer. The way her mouth clung to his wiped out coherent thought. Setting his bottle on the coffee table, Keegan dragged her against him and lost himself in her welcome.
Mariah ran her hands under his shirt, but hesitated at his bandage. He wanted to rip off the gauze so she could touch freely. He unfastened the Velcro sling, and in sheer bliss, cupped her beautiful breasts, savoring the way the tips puckered under his touch. She met his challenge by tweaking his one exposed nipple.
Crystal Vision Page 17
