Evans to Betsy

by Rhys Bowen

  “You belong with us, you know. You are one of us, even if you try to deny it.”

  Evan gave an embarrassed laugh. “Oh, I don’t think so. I was brought up strictly chapel.”

  “I can tell a true Celt when I see one,” Rhiannon said. “The Celtic religion is in your veins, boy. Your ancestors were worshipping here before Christianity was even thought of. You should at least come to one of our ceremonies. May Day is not far-off. Do come. You’d be amazed at what you will feel.”

  “Thanks, but … I don’t think this is my cup of tea,” Evan muttered. The woman’s intensity was unnerving.

  “It’s not supposed to be a cup of tea,” she said. “If you want a cup of tea, you go to your chapel. If you want the energy of the universe, you come here.”

  Evan shuffled his feet, wondering how he could make his escape without appearing too rude. “I—really ought to …”

  “Just one minute.” Rhiannon held up her hand. “What do you know about Druids?”

  “I’ve seen the eisteddfod,” Evan said. “They wear robes.”

  Rhiannon sniffed. “Stage Druids,” she said. “Invented in the seventeenth century. Nothing to do with us or our religion. Promise me one thing.” She darted into the darkness of the hall again and reappeared holding a slim book in her hand. “This will explain who we are and what we do. I wrote it myself. Promise me that you will read it and bring it back to me.”

  As she handed him the book, he felt a current of connection between them. He couldn’t tell if it was just the static in that thick carpet or if there was really an electric charge when the book touched his hand.

  “All right. I’ll read it.” Anything to get away.

  “I’ll be seeing you again soon,” Rhiannon said. “Very soon.”

  Evan could feel her eyes watching him as he left the building.

  Chapter 8

  “She’s an intense woman, isn’t she?” he asked Annabel.

  “A little too intense for her own good sometimes,” Annabel said. “Now I just have to find my husband and—oh, here he is now.”

  A man was running up the steps from the beach. He was tanned, barefoot, wearing white pants and a flowing white shirt unbuttoned to his waist. His long blond hair blew out behind him like a halo.

  “Hi, honey. What’s the problem?” he asked, pausing to give her a peck on the cheek. “I was off jogging but I got a feeling that something was wrong.” He looked inquiringly at Evan.

  “The constable is looking for a missing girl,” Annabel said.

  “Then you’ve come to the right place,” the man said smiling. He held out his hand. “Randy Wunderlich. I’ve located plenty of missing people in my career. What can you tell me about her?”

  “The constable thinks she might have stayed here,” Annabel cut in before Evan could answer. “But I think we’ve established that she hasn’t.”

  Randy put his fingers to his temples. “Wait a minute. As you were talking, I got something … something to do with water? Ocean? Across the ocean?” he asked.

  “She’s from America,” Evan said.

  “Ah. Okay. That’s a start. What do we have to go on? Do you have anything belonging to the girl? Something I could touch when I go into a trance?”

  Evan thought that it was rather like giving a bloodhound an old sock to smell and a ridiculous picture of Randy, sniffing out a trail, sprang into his mind. “I’ve got this poster,” he said, holding it up. “The photo’s not very good, and I’m afraid I can’t tell you much. She was studying over here, at Oxford, and wrote to her parents saying she was heading for Wales. She hasn’t been heard from in over two months now.”

  Randy barely glanced at the poster but put his fingers to his temples again. “I’m not picking up anything at the moment.”

  “I’ve already told the constable that she hasn’t been here,” Annabel said. “And you’re probably not picking up anything because she’s gone back to America. ‘Ocean,’ you said. The girl is across the ocean.”

  “Yeah. That could be it,” Randy said. “Sorry not to be more positive, Officer. I’ll keep on trying. If anything comes to me, I’ll be sure to let you know.” He looked at Annabel. “Did you want me, honey?”

  “Yes, I did. We’re supposed to be meeting with Ben in—” she consulted her watch “—fifteen minutes. And you can’t see him dressed like that.”

  “Just because he’s a stuffed shirt doesn’t mean that I have to be,” Randy said. “He’s an accountant. He’s supposed to look like that. I’m a psychic and a well-known personality. He has to take me or leave me.” He put an arm around her waist. “Come on. Race you up to the main house.”

  As he pushed her forward, Evan heard her mutter, “Sometimes I wish you’d grow up, Randy.”

  “But you married me for my youthful good looks,” he chuckled, “as well as for getting your head straightened out.”

  Evan trailed behind them as they went up the steps. As they passed the spa building, Evan heard a shriek.

  “Evan Evans—what are you doing here?”

  Betsy and another girl were just emerging from the building with buckets and mops. They were both dressed in short green uniform dresses with the oak tree logo of the Sacred Grove on the breast pockets.

  “Hello, Betsy,” Evan said.

  Randy turned back. “Hey—you two know each other? That’s so cool.”

  “He’s the constable in our village,” Betsy said, her face bright red with embarrassment.

  “Great. Terrific. So you’ve heard that you might have a budding psychic living in your midst, have you, Constable?”

  “Yes, I’ve heard all about it,” Evan said.

  “The grad student who discovered her is very excited by her preliminary results. She’s asked me to test her on a more sophisticated level.” He smiled at Betsy. “So you’re all set for our session together this afternoon then, Betsy?” He gave Betsy a fake punch on the arm that was somehow very intimate.

  “Oh, yes, sir,” Betsy mumbled. “I’ll be there, sir. And thank you for finding me a job here. It’s wonderful.”

  “Glad you could join us,” Randy said. “The more positive vibrations there are around this place, the better. We’re going to make this place the psychic capital of the world, you see.”

  “Come on, Randy. Ben will be waiting,” Annabel dragged at his arm.

  Randy waved easily. “See you at four then. Don’t be late.”

  “Thank you for coming, Constable.” Annabel turned to Evan. “I’m so sorry we couldn’t help you. And please excuse me if I don’t show you out. We have an important meeting with our accountant. The main gate is through that archway to your right. I’ll call Blaine to let him know you’re leaving.”

  Then she and Randy hurried up the path. Betsy stood glaring at Evan, her hands on her hips.

  “And just what are you doing here, I’d like to know?”

  “Missing person report,” Evan said, waving the flyer at her. “I thought this might be a good place to check out.”

  “Oh, yes, I believe that,” she said. “You came here to spy on me, didn’t you? Keeping an eye on me again.”

  “No, Betsy, I swear …”

  “When will you learn that I can take care of myself?” Betsy demanded. “I’m a big girl, you know. If you were my boyfriend, I could understand that you wanted to run my life for me. But you’re not, are you?”

  “Betsy, I came here on official police business. But I’m glad to see you’ve come up in the world. You’ve traded a tray of glasses at Harry’s for a bucket and mop.”

  Betsy tossed her curls defiantly. “That’s all you know about it. I’ve got the cushiest job here you could ever want. I have to help out in the dining room for lunch and dinner and apart from that all I have to do is to check on the spa—you know, making sure there are fresh towels. That kind of thing. I just decided to help Bethan with the cleaning because I’d got nothing else to do. So you can tell Harry that I’m very, very content in my new job. The
y pay me very well and they don’t work me to death.”

  “I’m glad you’ve landed on your feet,” Evan said.

  “I have to get back to cleaning the steam rooms,” the other girl said to Betsy in Welsh. “See you later, Betsy.”

  “I’m coming, Bethan.” Betsy smiled sheepishly at Evan. “Sorry if I yelled at you just then. I thought you’d come to convince me to come home again. I’m really happy here. Honestly I am. I can’t imagine working at a lovelier place and they say all kinds of celebrities come here. I might meet someone famous!” Her eyes were shining. “Got to go then. See you around, Evan.”

  She ran back into the spa building. Evan continued on up the path and through the archway to the main exit. Something wasn’t right here, he decided. The place seemed almost deserted and yet they’d hired Betsy to do very little work. If they had no customers, who paid all the staff it took to run this place?

  Blaine was still unsmiling as he nodded to Evan and pressed the release button on the electronic gate.

  Betsy found Bethan had gone into the steam room and was already wiping down the walls.

  “Nice-looking bloke,” she said as Betsy put down her pail and took out a sponge. “Friend of yours, is he?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Dating, are you?”

  “If I had my way, we would be,” Betsy said, giving the wall a savage scrub. “He seems to prefer the local schoolmarm, but I can’t think why. She never tries to make the best of herself, you know—no fashionable clothes, and no makeup, and her hair in a plait. Dull as ditchwater, if you ask me. What can he possibly see in her?”

  “It’s always the way, isn’t it?” Bethan said. “The good-looking blokes always seem to go for the plain women. I have the same trouble myself.”

  Betsy looked at Bethan’s large, cowlike face with its mournful brown eyes and said nothing.

  “You know it’s a funny thing,” Bethan went on, wiping the last of the wall with a grand flourish, “but I think I’ve seen that girl before. You know—the one on the poster he was carrying.”

  “You have—where?”

  “She looks a lot like a girl who worked here earlier this year. She was only here for about a week, so I can’t say I got to know her, but it does look a lot like her.”

  Chapter 9

  Excerpt from The Way of the Druid, by Rhiannon

  What Druids Believe

  The ancient Celts perceived the presence of supernatural power in every part of the world. The sky, the sun, the dark places underground, every mountain, river, spring, marsh, tree, were endowed with divinity.

  They believed in the concept of AWEN—the liquid life force, essence, inspiration that flows through all living things.

  They also worshipped the triple Goddess of the waxing, full, and waning moon and the Horned God of forest and animal powers. We, the heirs to the Druid religion, still hold these beliefs today. We see the Goddess as the fertile Earth Mother and the Horned God as the life-giving sun father.

  We Druids feel more than a kinship with nature. We are part of nature. Nature is part of us.

  We are a link between past and present.

  We believe in the equality of all things and a balance between male and female.

  We believe all life is sacred and worthy of protection.

  If we have a creed, it is “Do what thou wilt but harm none.”

  It was ten o’clock on a perfect spring Sunday morning as Evan wheeled the motorbike from his shed. Worshipers were filing up the village street, the older women in their hats and black lace-up shoes, the men in their stiff Sunday collars and dark suits, on their way to one of the two chapels. As they got close, they veered either to the left into Capel Bethel, or right into Capel Beulah, sometimes looking back across the street to give a disapproving stare to those going to the “wrong” chapel. They had also given a few disapproving stares to Evan, who was obviously going off on his bike when he should have been singing hymns.

  The first hymns started, the lovely notes of the old hymn “Hyfrydol” echoing out from Capel Bethel, while Capel Beulah competed with “Cwm Rhondda.” Evan stood for a moment and glanced up at the mountainsides. The first spring flowers were dotting the grass with splashes of yellow and white. Another great day to be climbing and instead he would be spending it down at the Sacred Grove. Betsy had reported her conversation to him the evening before and he had duly reported it to HQ. Now he was to meet Glynis Davies in Caernarfon and drive her to talk to the people he had interviewed yesterday. He couldn’t help seeing this as an insult. Now that there was a real mystery, he wasn’t trusted enough to gather evidence without a member of the CID present. He reminded himself that this was just normal procedure. Glynis was not trying to pull rank, just do her job.

  The hymns finished and from Capel Bethel came Reverend Parry Davies’s powerful voice. “A great evil has come among us, my dear brethren. We Christians have fought for twenty centuries to stamp out the devil and pagan worship. Now it has sprung up again in our midst. It might call itself a center for healing and spirituality, but do you know what it really is? A place of devil worship—that’s what it is! So-called Druids calling up evil spirits! Do we want this kind of corrupting evil in our midst, my dear brethren? What are we going to do about it?”

  Evan smiled as he mounted his bike. So one of the ministers had heard the gossip about the Sacred Grove. He wondered what would happen when the other, more extreme minister also heard. And the other minister’s wife—how would Lady Annabel fare against the power of a Mrs. Powell-Jones? He’d love to see that confrontation someday.

  He started the engine and rode carefully down the pass.

  “It looks rather fishy, doesn’t it?” D. C. Glynis Davies sat beside Evan, who was driving the squad car. “I mean, why deny the girl had ever been there unless they had something to hide?”

  “Exactly,” Evan said. “Of course, the other girl, the one who spoke to Betsy, might be wrong. Betsy says she’s not the brightest specimen in the world. And the photo on the flyer isn’t exactly clear.”

  “I must say, I’m curious to see the place now,” Glynis said.

  “You won’t believe your eyes.” Evan chuckled. “It will make you realize that some people have more money than sense. It’s a complete—well, I’d better let you see for yourself. You might like it.”

  “You don’t, then?”

  “I hate anything phony,” Evan said. “Italian villages in Italy are all well and good. We’ve got some lovely Welsh buildings in Wales. Oh, it’s pretty enough, but it doesn’t feel real. And all this mumbo jumbo—pyramids and healing crystals and Druids. It’s not right.”

  Glynis laughed. “There speaks the son of a true Welsh chapel. Crystals and healing ceremonies are all the thing these days.”

  “For people who are looking for something.”

  She nodded. “I suppose you’re right. Have you never done any such soul-searching?”

  Evan shook his head. “I’ve always had pretty much what I wanted, right here,” he said. “Although there was a time, after my father died …” He paused, then shook his head more firmly. “Even then you’d not have found me sitting in any bloody pyramid.”

  They had reached the main gate and Evan pressed the buzzer.

  “North Wales police again to see the owners,” Evan said.

  “They’re busy today. I don’t know if they can see you,” Blaine’s voice crackled through the intercom.

  “Then they’d better unbusy themselves.” Glynis leaned across to address the intercom. “Detective Constable Davies speaking. We’ve come on a very serious matter.”

  The gate swung open then shut again immediately. “The gate must be to keep their clients from escaping before they’ve paid the bill,” Glynis quipped, then saw Evan’s serious face. “What? Do you think there’s something wrong with this place?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “There’s something that doesn’t add up. I can’t put my finger on it yet.”
<
br />   “Interesting. I’ll keep my eyes open.”

  Evan parked where he had left the motorcycle the day before. They declined Blaine’s instructions to wait and set off down the cobbled main street.

  “I see what you mean,” Glynis said, laughing in amazement. “It’s very Disneyland, isn’t it? Quaint and pretty but strangely surreal.”

  They were just passing under the arch when Michael came running down the steps toward them. “Hey, just a minute. Oh, it’s you, Constable.”

  “And this is Detective Glynis Davies.” Evan indicated the young woman in the dark gray suit.

  Michael looked momentarily startled. “Detective? Is there some sort of problem, C-constable?”

  “There might be,” Evan said. “Now, if you’d take us to Lady Annabel or Mr. Wunderlich straightaway.”

  “Lady Annabel is down at the spa, getting a massage,” Michael said. “It’s this way.”

  They went in through the glass doors of the spa building to a tiled atrium. A fountain was splashing against one wall, while soft piped music filled the background. The walls were tiled in an undersea motif with strands of wafting seaweed and schools of fish. It was so authentic that it felt like walking through an aquarium.

  “If you wait here, I’ll go and see if she’s finished yet.” He gave a half-apologetic grin. “She hates being disturbed when she’s having a massage.”

  Evan and Glynis glanced at each other as Michael disappeared into the rear of the building.

  “What the hell for?” they heard a sharp voice demand. “Oh, very well. Tell them I’ll be right out.”

  Michael returned, his face pink with embarrassment. “She’ll be right out. Take a seat.”

  A few moments later Annabel emerged, dressed in a large, fluffy white robe. Her hair was piled up on top of her head but her face was still perfectly made-up. “Thank you, Sergio. You’re a gem,” she called. “I feel like a new woman.”

  “Constable.” She gave him a beaming smile. “What brings you back again so soon? Have you been converted to Rhiannon and her band?”