“I got this,” he said, his voice raspy and confident, like some kind of movie mobster. Before anyone could react, he grabbed Farrah around the waist and hurled her over his shoulder. She cried out in surprise, as her crutches clattered to the sidewalk. In a matter of seconds, he hauled her up the steps and set her down by the door. Farrah gawked at him with wide eyes as she struggled to find words. Evidently, she couldn’t decide whether to be indignant or grateful. Or impressed.
Viper smirked as he looked down at Billy and me. “What are y’all waitin’ for? C’mon, Billy. Let’s get these ladies inside and get ’em a drink.”
Billy grabbed Farrah’s crutches and motioned me to proceed upstairs. “After you,” he said.
“Alrighty, then.”
Billy’s apartment occupied one-third of a converted Victorian mansion. It was slightly shabby in the way aging rental properties often were, but it was clean and not without its charms. He led us through the small living room and into what was presumably intended to be a formal dining room. For Billy, it was a game room dominated by a large round table and six black leather chairs. A glass-doored cabinet against the far wall contained stacks of boxed games on top and a minibar inside.
As we entered, Erik emerged from the adjoining kitchen holding a tall mixed drink. He leaned in to give me a one-armed hug and, to my surprise, a kiss on the cheek. “Good to see you again, Keli. I’m glad you could make it.” He looked better than he had the day before, in a nice button-up denim shirt and black jeans. His hair was slightly damp, as if he’d just gotten out of the shower, making it look more brown than blond.
As I introduced Erik to Farrah, I noticed someone standing behind him. When he stepped aside, I saw that it was Thorna Attley, Denise’s neighbor. She had on the same black eyeliner as the other day, but had dressed up her appearance with dark red lipstick, a short black mini-skirt, and a lacy black top. The outfit seemed slightly formal for game night, but who was I to judge? Farrah and I had opted for casual Boho chic—she in a long suede skirt and knotted baby-blue T-shirt and me in skinny jeans and a light, off-the-shoulder sweater.
Billy fussed over Farrah to help her get settled into the nearest chair, while Erik poured us drinks. Viper slid into the seat to Farrah’s left, and I took the one to her right. Erik pulled out the chair on my other side. Thorna seemed to angle for the seat on Erik’s right, but Billy got there first. He was too busy opening up a game box to notice her scowl, as she settled into the chair between Billy and Viper.
“I hope we didn’t take someone else’s place tonight,” I said, realizing there was only enough space for six players.
“Not at all,” said Billy. “A couple guys from work had agreed to come if we needed them, but they were fine with skipping out.” He pushed up his glasses and flashed his dimples. “Lucky for you, Thorna. Right? Now you’re not surrounded by a bunch of dorky men.”
“Speak for yourself,” said Viper, as he slouched in his chair.
Thorna gave Billy a tight-lipped smile and didn’t say anything. Farrah and I exchanged a glance, and Farrah cleared her throat. “So, what is in this delicious-looking concoction, if I might ask?” She held up her drink to have a taste.
“House special,” said Erik. “Seven and seven without the garnish.”
“No frills,” said Viper. He raised his highball toward Farrah. “Here’s to simplicity.” They clinked glasses, then he drained his.
“Pace yourself, Vipe,” said Erik. “The night is young.”
Billy had set up the game board and was now passing out tokens, cards, and game pieces. He slid a character list between Farrah and me. “Whenever we have new players, we let them choose their characters from the list. We’re in the middle of an ongoing campaign, so I’ve made a note of the characters that are already taken.”
The list looked like the cast of an epic fantasy series. I saw that Erik was a monk, Viper was a dragon slayer, and Billy was a Viking. “I don’t see you on here, Thorna,” I said. “Aren’t you a regular?”
She dug a piece of ice from her glass and popped it in her mouth. “I guess not. I’ll be the mage.”
Farrah wrinkled her forehead at the complicated-looking game board. “Do you have an instruction booklet I can read?”
“It’s easy,” said Thorna, sounding bored already. “All you gotta do is roll the dice. The boys will take care of the rest. As they should. Isn’t that right, Erik?”
“I can give you the backstory,” said Billy. “The year is fourteen-twelve, and the kingdom of—”
“You can explain as we go along,” interrupted Viper. “We don’t have all night.”
“I’ll be an elf,” said Farrah. “Elves are cute. Keli?”
“Um, I don’t know. I’ll be a giant. That sounds powerful.”
“You’d think so,” said Billy, with a snicker. Clearly, he had played this game many, many times.
For the next hour, the game slogged along, with Billy’s nonstop commentary. Only he and Erik seemed to be having fun. Every now and then, Erik turned to me and grinned like a little boy. Thorna was sulky all evening. It was obvious she wasn’t there for the game.
As for Viper, he drank nonstop and became increasingly loud and sloppy, knocking over game pieces and dropping his dice on the floor. Finally, in the middle of Thorna’s turn, he stood up and said, “Break time!” He left the room abruptly, bumping my chair on the way out.
Billy checked his watch. “Yeah, okay. We should take a break. Does anyone want snacks? I have all kinds of appetizers in the freezer: pizza rolls, mozzarella sticks, potato skins. You name it.”
Thorna pushed back from the table. “I’ll go make a platter.”
“Thanks,” said Billy. “I’ll come help in a minute.” He straightened the cards and jotted some notes in a spiral notebook, presumably so we wouldn’t lose our place in the game.
Erik excused himself, and I turned toward Farrah. I was hoping to speak to her in private for a minute. We really needed to formulate our own game plan, because so far we’d learned absolutely nothing. But then Viper returned and scooted his chair closer to Farrah’s. He leaned over and whispered into her ear. She rolled her eyes, but curled her lips into a smile. “No thanks,” she said.
He sat back and shrugged, then pulled a joint from his jacket pocket. He lit it, took a drag, and then offered it to me. “No thanks,” I said, echoing Farrah’s words.
Erik came up behind me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Want me to tell him to put it away? You’d think he’d learned his lesson after being arrested.”
“Hey, it’s practically legal now,” said Viper. “As long as you don’t carry too much at once.”
“It’s okay,” I said to Erik. We were there to observe the natives in their natural habitat, I mused. Might as well let them do what they normally did.
Viper reached down and tickled Farrah’s toes. “Hey!” she protested. “No fair. I’m at a bit of a disadvantage here.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled, his red eyes glistening. “How’d you break your leg?”
“I had a disagreement with the side of a ski slope. The slope won.”
“Harsh,” he said. “Got a pen?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“So I can sign your cast.”
“There’s a whole cup of pens on the cabinet,” said Billy, returning to the room with a fresh bottle of 7 Up.
I turned to Billy. “Could you show me the washroom?”
“Sure thing.” He led me through the living room and down a short hall, where he pointed out the door to the bathroom. Once I was alone, I took my phone from my purse and texted Wes.
Wish you were here.This is a strange scene.
He replied immediately. Want me to join you? I can leave now.
Sweet man. That’s ok. Probably won’t be here much longer.
I took a quick peek around the bathroom, scanning the contents of the medicine cabinet and the cupboard beneath the sink. No clues there. I ran my fingers through my ha
ir and touched up my lipstick, then opened the bathroom door—only to come face-to-face with Viper.
“Hey, sexy,” he rasped. “What were you doing in there?”
“Oh! Sorry. I didn’t know anyone was waiting.”
“’S’okay. Want to come in with me?”
I ignored the question and tried to brush past him. He blocked my way, roaming my body with his glassy eyes. I balled my fists, as my adrenaline surged.
“Sure you don’t want to give me a hand?” he slurred. “I’ll show you why they call me Viper.”
In the next instant, he stepped toward me and I wrenched backward.
“Get away from me!”
Erik ran up the hall. “Viper! What are you doing?”
“My bad, my bad,” said Viper, holding up both palms in mock surrender. “Just a little misunderstanding.” He disappeared into the bathroom, and I cursed under my breath.
Erik looked me up and down with concern. “Sorry about that. He’s a handful when he drinks too much.”
“A handful? You say that like he’s a child. He’s a fully grown man.”
I stalked off, but stopped short when I reached the living room. Farrah was next to the front door with her purse on her shoulder and her crutches under both arms. Her face was red and her jaw set.
“It’s time to go,” she said when she saw me.
“What happened?” My mind jumped to the worst possibility. Had Viper assaulted her right before accosting me outside the bathroom?
Her eyes flashed. “That little . . . juvenile delinquent drew an obscene picture on my cast. In permanent marker.”
I told her what Viper had said to me, and she looked positively murderous. “The nerve of that guy! Are you okay?”
“Yeah. No harm done.”
Thorna and Billy wandered in from the dining room. “Snacks are ready,” Billy announced.
Thorna grasped the situation faster than he did. “Leaving so soon?”
Erik came up behind me and touched my arm. “You don’t have to go. Viper will leave. I already talked to him.”
Farrah shook her head. “You know, it’s getting late anyway, and we have work tomorrow.” Then she put on a smile to ease the awkwardness. “Thank you for teaching us the game! I’d never played before, and I love trying new things.”
“Anytime,” said Billy. “Come back next week if you’d like.”
“Not if Viper is here,” I retorted. “Billy, any chance the back door has fewer steps?”
“Unfortunately, no. But we’ll make sure Farrah gets down safely.”
With Erik on one side and Billy on the other, the two men managed to carry Farrah down the steps and ease her into the car. I placed her crutches in the backseat and settled in behind the wheel. We waved good-bye and took off. As soon as we had cleared the block, we both started talking at once.
“Can you believe—?”
“Of all the—!”
“Ugh,” exclaimed Farrah. “Did we even learn anything tonight to make this ordeal worth it?”
“Not about Denise. I almost asked which character she played in the game, but that seemed too tacky.”
“As if manners mattered in there.”
“Well, besides Viper—who’s clearly a creep—everyone else was pretty nice.”
“You mean Erik and Billy were nice. Thorna was rather cold. I think you were cramping her style.”
“Me? What did I do?”
“Not a thing, besides being beautiful like you always are. You cast quite a spell on Erik the Druid. Or bard or monk, or whatever he was.”
I glanced at Farrah in the passenger seat. The country road was dark, so I couldn’t see her expression. “Are you serious?” I asked.
“Come on,” she said. “You must have noticed how he looked at you. And he was awful touchy-feely, don’t you think?”
I thought back over the evening and realized Farrah was right. “Dang. I didn’t lead him on, did I? I’m sure I mentioned Wes at least once, if not more.”
“If he’d give you a ring, that wouldn’t be a problem,” muttered Farrah, out of the side of her mouth.
“What?”
“Nothing. Look, don’t worry about it. In fact, this could be a good thing. If Erik likes you, it should be easier for you to get more information out of him.”
I scoffed. “Let’s face it, Farrah. You and I are not detectives. Tonight was a big fail.”
“I don’t know. Now that I think about it, I’d say we’re starting to build a pretty interesting suspect list. In time, it might turn out that tonight was more useful than we think.”
I glanced at the cold, clear sky and shook my head. I wished I shared her confidence.
CHAPTER TEN
I had trouble sleeping Tuesday night. By the time I assisted Farrah up to her apartment and helped her color over the graffiti on her cast, it was already past 10:00. When I finally arrived home, Wes was ready for bed. He asked me how the evening turned out, and I gave him the short version—that it was mostly dull until it ended on an obnoxious note with a drunk guy scribbling a lewd drawing on Farrah’s cast. I left out the part about Viper making a pass at me in the hallway. I knew it would only anger Wes and, besides, there was nothing to be done about it now.
As I tossed and turned in bed, I regretted my decision not to confide in him. My mind kept replaying the night’s events—and imagining all the ways it could have turned out differently. And worse.
The living room telephone rang, making me jump. Wes groaned and rolled over. Two more rings, and the machine picked up. I strained my ears, listening for a message, but there was none. I punched my pillow and snuggled in. The phone rang again.
“Can you turn off the ringer?” Wes mumbled.
“Yeah. Good idea.”
Feeling my way in the dark, I padded downstairs and into the living room. As I reached for the phone, it rang a third time. I grabbed the receiver and listened. Crackling, tinny music assaulted my ears. I gasped. “Who is this?”
The music stopped, but the call didn’t end. I imagined some weirdo on the other end of the line, and my skin crawled. “Why are you doing this?” I demanded.
I heard a faint, breathy laugh, then a click.
Shaking, I yanked the phone cord from the wall and ran back upstairs as fast as my cold little feet could carry me.
* * *
One of the perks of being my own boss was that I could sleep in whenever I wanted. That is, assuming I didn’t have any appointments—which, unfortunately, I didn’t. I took my time getting dressed Wednesday morning, determined to set a positive tone for the day. After Wes left for work, I went into my altar room and lit a candle.
I took a few deep breaths, as I stared out the window into the backyard. It was a beautiful spring morning. The butter-yellow daffodils and pale pink petals of the flowering dogwood tree made for a happy scene, but they couldn’t cut through my underlying sense of worry. I wished I felt more optimistic.
What should I do?
With that simple question, I placed my hands on my heart and closed my eyes. After a moment, a short melancholy verse surfaced in my mind:
Mother Goddess—I’m lost at sea
Forces crashing on all sides of me
I need a beacon, an anchor, a rope
Direction, protection—a sign of hope
All at once, I envisioned a glowing image. Undulating lines shimmered and curved to form a familiar symbol: crossed arms, representing feminine and masculine energies, with a loop on the top evoking the rising sun. It was the Egyptian ankh, an ancient symbol of life, fertility, and power. According to legend, the ankh was a key to hidden knowledge and a gift bestowed by the gods—the gift of eternal life. It was also a sign of protection. It was just the thing I needed to remind me of my own inner strength.
I opened my eyes, extinguished the candle, and headed to the bathroom. I rummaged in my makeup bag for a brown eyeliner pencil, then I faced the mirror and lifted my shirt. With a steady hand, I drew the s
ymbol in the center, lower part of my chest. Then I stepped back to admire the effect. Perfect.
Smiling, I lowered my shirt and finished getting ready for work. It gave me a certain thrill of power to carry the secret emblem so close to my heart. As I gathered my things and walked to work, I felt more energized than I had in a long time. I entered my office building ready to face the day.
I unlocked the door, picked up the mail from the floor beneath the letter slot, and opened the blinds to let in some light. It was quiet as usual, with no messages to answer and no meetings to attend. But I didn’t let it bother me. For the next hour, I worked the phone, calling every contact I could think of. It was time for some serious networking.
I had just gotten off the phone with the chair of the service committee at the local bar association, when there was a knock at the door. It was such an unfamiliar sound, I wasn’t sure at first what it was. Then I heard a deep, resonant voice.
“Is this a place of business or a closet?”
I hopped up and poked my head into the waiting room. “Crenshaw!”
“I wasn’t sure if I should knock or enter unannounced. You don’t have a receptionist?”
“No, it’s just me. How are you? Can I get you anything? Coffee?”
He raised his eyebrows slightly, then nodded. “All right. I’m doing well, thank you. And you?”
“I’m great.” I set about making coffee, as Crenshaw took a seat and gave the office an appraising look. He was dressed in a gray Italian suit, with a silk paisley tie and coordinating pocket square. When he leaned back and crossed his long legs, I was momentarily distracted by the gleam from his highly polished black oxfords. They were almost as shiny as the silver watch glinting on his wrist. I handed him a cup of coffee and perched in the adjacent chair. “What brings you here, Crenshaw? I know how busy you are.”
“Can’t a man pop in and say hello to his former partner?”
“Sure. But you’ve never done it before.” In truth, I knew he was put out with me when I left the firm. He shouldn’t have taken it personally, but I had the sense he felt I’d betrayed him.
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