"We're friends. I'm always here for you."
Natalie left Lily sitting on the porch having a second martini. When she got in her car, though, she realized that in spite of her fatigue, she didn't want to go home and thresh out the day with her father. She felt like driving.
The night was cool but still held a note of summer's sultriness. Natalie rolled down the car windows and listened to music as she cruised through the quiet streets of Port Ariel. In winter the downtown section was deserted at night. In summer many stores stayed open and tourists peppered the sidewalks. She noticed three standing in front of the beautifully lighted bay window of Curious Things. Farther down the block a few people trailed into Trudy's Diner. Probably locals, Natalie thought. Tourists liked the more expensive restaurants along the shore, although the food was no better and not so plentiful.
After a while she glanced at the car clock and was surprised to see she'd been driving in a big circle for forty-five minutes. Someone would surely call the police to report a car repeatedly driving by. Besides, she was getting sleepy.
On her way home, Natalie passed The Blue Lady. She slowed down, staring at the big, dark pavilion. "I don't want to be alone anymore, Natalie," she remembered the eerie, disembodied voice saying with a note of threat. "I want you to join me."
She shivered. Who would have hidden in the dance pavilion and threatened her in Tamara's voice? Clearly it couldn't have been Jeff Lindstrom. He could only have enlisted the aid of someone else. Who? That light, lovely voice. She'd already considered Alison. Her voice had the same pitch as Tam's and she'd been around Tamara enough to know how she sounded. Who else could it have been? Dee Fisher, whom her father had accused of stealing drugs and Viveca had suggested as a murder suspect? Natalie vaguely remembered Dee from high school. She'd always been surly and unfriendly. Natalie had barely spoken to her then and had no idea what her voice would sound like now. Maybe she could make it sound like Tamara's.
And of course there was Lily. Who better to imitate Tam's voice but her twin sister? But that was impossible. Why on earth would Lily want to scare her?
She shook her head as if she could shake away the confusion and turned into the driveway. It was empty and the open garage door showed that it was empty inside, too. Her father wasn't home. Earlier he had called Lily and told her he'd given Alison a mild sedative. She was sleeping at home. He wouldn't still be at Viveca's, Natalie thought. Maybe Ruth's. She smiled, trying to think of how he would explain himself if he spent the night. She wouldn't make it easy on him in the morning. She would ask a lot of questions and demand answers, turning the tables. She could almost see him red-faced and stumbling for words, then blustering in outrage.
Natalie climbed from the car and walked to the front door, taking in a deep breath of lake-scented air. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the moon reflected almost perfectly in the still water. In fact, the night seemed unusually quiet, almost breathless, as if it were waiting for something to happen. Something cold and dark settled in Natalie's chest and the nerves along her neck tingled. Something didn't feel right.
Ridiculous. This wasn't The Blue Lady. This was home. She was just tired and her imagination was running away with her. Still, she jangled her keys, trying to find the one that usually came immediately to her fingers. She looked over her shoulder again. A long stretch of empty lawn ran downhill to the moon-silvered water. No one walked along the shore. No sounds or lights came from Harvey Coombs's house a hundred yards away. Nothing was strange, yet she was frightened. She felt as if something in the dark watched and hungered.
Hungered! What had brought that word to mind?
Beads of perspiration were popping out on her forehead when she swung open the door. " Blaine?" she called shrilly. The dog usually raced to greet her. Tonight there was no sign of her. " Blaine!" Quickly she stepped inside, slammed the door and locked it.
"Lock the bad thing out," she muttered breathlessly, then closed her eyes. What was she saying? She sounded like a child. Still, her palms slicked with perspiration and her heart raced.
Finally her cold fingers found the switch for the entrance hall light. She flipped it on and gasped. At her feet lay the black dress she had worn to the wake last night, ripped and torn into an almost unrecognizable mass of cloth. Beside it was a small pool of red. She bent and touched it, then sniffed her finger. The coppery smell of blood.
" Blaine!" she called loudly, springing up on shaking legs. " Blaine, where are you?"
A trail of red spots down the hall toward the bedrooms. Natalie took a few more hesitant steps. Her shoe touched a broken picture frame. She picked it up. The glass was shattered. Inside the twisted frame were scratched remains of a photo of her and the dog Clytemnestra that had sat in her father's study for over twenty years. In the photo her eyes had been gouged out. Just like Tam's, she thought in frozen horror.
A calm, distant voice told her she should turn and leave the house immediately. The voice of reason. Instead she followed the spots of blood like one hypnotized, certain they led to Blaine. Was the dog merely injured? Or was she dead?
Pain shot through Natalie at the thought of the gentle, amber-eyed dog lying motionless as her life drained from a slit throat. Anger followed the pain, white-hot fury at someone who would come into this house and hurt-
She halted in her bedroom doorway, her gaze flashing to the flickering on her vanity. Four fat candles threw wavering yellow light around the room.
On the bed lay her silk kimono, carefully spread without a wrinkle, the sash tied in a neat bow. At the neck of the kimono rested a clean, hollow-eyed human skull, a fresh red rose caught between its clenched, yellowed teeth.
15
Natalie stood transfixed for what seemed an endless time. Then she snapped back to reality. She turned on the overhead light, blew out the candles, and called police headquarters. Then she unlocked her suitcase, withdrew the gun she'd promised Nick she wouldn't use, and went in search of Blaine.
She felt eerily composed as she moved slowly down the hall, passed through the seldom-used dining room, and crossed the living room, flipping on lamps as she went. When she came to the sliding glass doors leading to the terrace, she turned on the outside lights and finally drew a deep breath.
Blaine stood chained to the metal lamp pole. A muzzle covered her face. She trembled and crouched in fear.
Natalie covered her hand with the edge of her suit jacket so she wouldn't disturb fingerprints and pushed open the door. She rushed to the dog, removing the muzzle that was much too tight, then hugged her and murmured to her as she ran expert hands over the dog's body searching for injury. Blaine winced when Natalie touched her left side. She didn't believe a rib was broken, but perhaps it was cracked or bruised. The dog must have put up a struggle, although there was no blood around the mouth. Apparently she hadn't bitten anyone.
"I'm so sorry," Natalie crooned. "I wish you could tell me who did this to you."
Blaine jerked and looked over Natalie's shoulder. Natalie grabbed the gun and still crouched, spun and aimed.
"Natalie!" Andrew St. John froze. "My God, what's going on here?"
Natalie lowered the gun. "We've had an intruder."
Andrew gazed at the gun. "Where did you get that thing?"
"I've had it for a few months. Don't worry-I know how to use it."
"That's exactly what does worry me. You handle the damned thing like it's second nature to you. Natalie, I hate guns. Do you know what a bullet can do to the body?"
"Yes. I also know what a long-bladed razor can do to the body. Someone has slashed three throats lately. I'm not going to apologize for arming myself." Andrew continued to stare at the gun. "I've called the police."
"Yes, that was the right thing to do. There's blood in the hallway, you know. Come in out of the cold." It wasn't cold but Andrew looked slightly dazed. Blood in the hall, his daughter pointing a.38 at him. It had been too much, Natalie thought. He nodded at the gun. "Put that thing away before the police get here, or
you might get in trouble."
She'd already been in trouble over the gun, but she couldn't tell her father about the night when Nick found her in The Blue Lady. "I'm not going to put it away. I have a permit for it," Natalie said casually, "and I'm not sure someone isn't still in the house."
Her father grew motionless. "Still in the house?"
"I didn't check every room, Dad. I just went back to my bedroom and then in search of Blaine."
"That was very foolish of you. You should have run out of the house as soon as you saw the mess in the hall."
"Dad, before I came in I had a feeling I was being watched. Harvey and his wife aren't home-no one would have heard me if I'd screamed. I got inside as fast as I could and locked the door behind me. Once I saw the havoc in the house, I went for my gun."
"You went for your gun. Dear God."
"Dad, the fact that I have a gun is hardly the big problem here." Natalie stood up. "Someone has invaded our home."
"I should never have left you alone."
"Have you been with Alison all this time?"
"No. I sedated her and left her sound asleep. Then I went back to the hospital to check on some patients." He paused. "The blood in the hall and the shredded clothes and picture. Is that all the damage?"
"Well, there's a skull with a flower in its teeth on my bed."
"A skull? A real skull? A human skull?"
"It's human and I'm fairly sure it's real."
"Natalie, how can you act so calm?" Andrew finally thundered. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing is wrong with me. Would you be happier if I were standing here shrieking my head off?" Andrew slowly shook his head. "I will never understand you if I live to be a hundred." A car pulled into the driveway. He looked out the window. "Not the police. No light bar flashing on top."
"I asked them not to flash the light. There's no sense in disrupting the whole neighborhood."
"Natalie, you act as if this kind of thing happens to you every day!"
Something has been happening to me almost every day, Natalie thought. "I have delayed reactions, Dad," she said gently. "Half an hour from now I'll be shaking like a leaf." Andrew looked relieved at the promise of what he considered a normal response. "You'd better open the door for the police."
Natalie led Blaine inside and watched the police enter. She was relieved to see Nick with Hysell following close behind. Nick looked controlled, but Ted was nearly vibrating with excitement. "A little trouble here, Dr. St. John?" Nick asked calmly.
"Shredded clothes and picture. Something that looks like blood in the hall."
"And some real creativity in my bedroom," Natalie said. "I didn't touch anything except some light switches. I haven't checked all the doors and windows to make sure they're locked, but they usually are. The sliding glass door to the terrace was unlocked, but the intruder had put Blaine out there and might simply have left it unlocked. I covered my hand when I touched the door handle."
Nick looked at her approvingly. "Sounds like you know how to handle yourself in this kind of situation. Careful not to disturb evidence."
"I watch a lot of those television police shows you don't like."
Nick glanced at Blaine. "Dog all right?"
"Yes. She was chained to the light pole on the terrace and muzzled. She's scared but not seriously injured."
"How much of a fight would she put up if a stranger broke in?"
Natalie shrugged. "I don't know. I've had her such a short time. She's slightly hurt-she received a blow to her left side. I don't think anything is broken, and I don't believe she bit anyone."
"Sheriff, take a look back here," Hysell called from the direction of Natalie's bedroom. Nick disappeared down the hall. Their voices lowered. Then Natalie heard the click of Hysell's ever-present camera. Someone's handiwork would be immortalized. Is that what the intruder wanted?
Natalie and her father sat silently in the living room. No damage had been done here. Blaine still trembled slightly but was gradually calming down. They could hear Meredith and Hysell going from room to room, searching, testing windows. At last they returned. "All the windows are closed and locked except for a small bathroom window. There's some undisturbed dirt in the grooves holding the screen," Nick said. "No one came in that way. Natalie, you said the sliding glass door was unlocked. Do you normally lock it when you leave the house?"
"Always," Andrew said.
"Dr. St. John, who else has keys to this house?"
Andrew looked blank for a moment. "Keys? Well, Natalie of course. Then there's a set I keep in my office at the hospital."
"Is the office always kept locked?"
"No. During the day it's usually open."
"Even when you're in surgery?"
"Yes. But there's a secretary in an outer office. Mrs. Rosen. Ralph Harkins and I share her."
"As a secretary?" Hysell interrupted.
Nick's lips tightened in irritation. "Of course as a secretary," Andrew said indignantly. "What else?"
"I don't know. Maybe a nurse or something."
"She isn't a nurse."
"Well, I just thought-"
"Does anyone else have a key?" Nick plowed on.
"Let's see…" Andrew frowned. "Harvey Coombs."
"Harvey Coombs!" Ted burst out. "You trust old Harvey with a key?"
Andrew shot him a paralyzing look from steel-gray eyes. " Harvey has been my friend for thirty years. He's had some problems lately, but that wasn't always the case."
"I see," Ted said loudly, then mumbled, "but I wouldn't let him have a key to my house."
Nick took control again. "We'll have to talk to Mr. Coombs."
"He didn't break into my house," Andrew protested.
"I'm sure he didn't, but I want to make certain he still has the key," Nick said. "He could have lost it or loaned it to someone."
"He wouldn't have loaned it." Andrew paused. "He could have lost it, though. He's had it for over twenty years."
"So he lost it five or ten years ago and it just happened to fall into the hands of a killer?" Ted asked.
"A killer?" Andrew thundered. "Why do you think whoever did this was a killer?"
"Because of your connection with Eugene Farley and Natalie being your child," Ted explained earnestly.
Andrew fixed Nick with his piercing gray gaze. "What in hell is this man talking about?"
"Hasn't Natalie told you?"
Andrew sighed. "Sheriff, my daughter has a lifelong habit of forgetting to tell me things. Why don't you fill me in?"
Ted looked as if he were dying to tell the tale, but mer cifully Nick cut him off, outlining the Farley theory concisely and dispassionately. When he finished, Andrew stood and walked around the room, his head down. Finally he looked at them and said, "Well, what are you doing to protect Lily, Alison, and Natalie?"
Natalie was stunned. She had thought her father would first declare the theory absurd, then demand to know why she hadn't told him sooner. It seemed she didn't understand him any better than he understood her.
"I've only warned Mrs. Cosgrove and Mr. Peyton and Lily," Nick said. "We don't have the manpower to guard three people. Of course, Alison stays home most of the time. I believe a housekeeper is with her during the day."
"Yes," Andrew said. "In spite of her mental condition, she's probably not as much trouble as Lily Peyton and my daughter."
"Thank you, Dad," Natalie said dryly.
"It's true. You've always been headstrong and reckless."
"This gets better and better." Natalie looked at Nick. "I've told you I'll be careful. I'm sure Lily will, too. Now what about the havoc in this house?"
"I'll call our tech team, such as it is. Have you moved anything?"
"No. I do know that's real blood in the hall, but I'm not sure if it's animal or human. And I think the skull on the bed is real, although I can't imagine where someone would get a real human skull."
"Can't be real," Ted pronounced. "Not unless we've got grave robbers
in Port Ariel."
"Given everything else that's been going on, I wouldn't rule it out," Natalie said wryly.
The phone rang. Andrew answered, his expression distracted. Then his face tensed. "Certainly she isn't here. I would have called you." He paused and looked at Nick Meredith. "It's Viveca Cosgrove. Alison has been missing for over two hours."
"I thought you sedated her," Nick said.
"I did. Not heavily, though. She's been off all medication for a year, so I thought her tolerance was low. I administered a small injection of Ativan, and she quickly fell asleep." He shook his head. "Too quickly. She was acting. The injection no doubt calmed her but didn't knock her out."
Nick had spoken to Viveca and then made a quick call to headquarters, dispatching two deputies to search for Alison. "Do you think she could have broken into your house?" he asked Andrew.
"Alison? Why? I thought you were worried about her, not suspicious of her."
"I'm both," Nick said. "Anyone have any idea where this girl might go?"
Natalie lifted her hands. "I barely know her. Dad?"
Andrew had begun pacing again. "I didn't really know her, either. She was shy around me. But she was in better shape when I was seeing Viveca than she is now. She was on medication-medication she desperately needed. I don't know why in God's name Viveca turned her over to Warren Hunt. Oh, hell, this is my fault. I should have given Alison a stronger dose of Ativan."
"No, her mother should have been watching her more closely," Nick said firmly. "Viveca's lack of vigilance isn't our problem, though. Finding Alison is. If she did this to your house, God knows what else she might do tonight. If she wasn't here, she's wandering around alone, drugged, and the perfect target for a killer."
Andrew insisted Viveca should not be left alone. "Well, Oliver certainly isn't up to baby-sitting her," Natalie said. "And don't even suggest Lily." Andrew looked troubled. "You go, Dad. I can tell you want to."
"I can't leave you."
"I'll be fine. The technicians will be here soon to collect evidence."
"And when they're finished, you'll be alone again in a house that's already been violated tonight. We'll both go to Viveca's."
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