Wings of the Night 08 Blue Twilight

Home > Other > Wings of the Night 08 Blue Twilight > Page 9
Wings of the Night 08 Blue Twilight Page 9

by Msggie Shayne


  "I don't know," Max said. "It's where I found you." "Where's Jay? Is he back?" She swung her feet to the floor. "Let's get the hell out of his room before he—"

  "Honey, we're in our room."

  Stormy went still, her eyes fixing on Max's. "What?"

  "Look, you're disoriented. You came in here to lie down while Lou and Jay and I went to grab some lunch and visit the local cop-shop. Remember?"

  "Yes, but—"

  "You must have fallen asleep. I got worried when I couldn't wake you."

  Stormy fixed her friend with an earnest stare. "I was in Jay's room. I passed out in Jason's motel room." Max frowned.

  "I unhooked a window when we were there earlier. I didn't really want to stay behind to rest, I wanted to poke around his room a little while you were gone. And I did."

  "You did?"

  "Yes. Jesus, Maxie, don't look like that."

  "I guess I just don't follow. Why are you suspicious of Jason?"

  "You telling me you're not?"

  "Of course not." She frowned, shrugged. "Maybe he's acting a little…off-kilter, but hell, given what he's been through… Besides, he's our friend, and he's in trouble. That's all that matters."

  "Some detective you are. You're right, he's in trouble. So might we be."

  "I'm not following."

  "I found—"

  Nothing. You found nothing.

  Stormy frowned at the deep, oddly familiar voice in her mind. "I found… something." She pressed her hands to her head, squinted her eyes, but all she conjured up was a deep black hole. "I know I did."

  "Well? What?"

  "I…I don't remember."

  "Honey, are you sure you didn't just dream the whole thing?"

  "Of course I'm sure! I just—"

  That's what it was. A dream, all just a dream.

  "I don't know. Maybe."

  Max sat on the bed beside her, reached up to stroke a hand through her hair. "Honey, are you sure you're okay?"

  "Of course I am."

  "No you're not. Look, we've been friends too long for this. Something's going on, and I know it. When are you gonna come clean with me, Stormy? Don't you trust me anymore?"

  Stormy lifted her head to stare right into Max's green eyes. "You know me too well, don't you?"

  "Yeah. As well as you know me. So what is it, Storm? What's going on?"

  Stormy drew a deep breath, held it a moment, then nodded once. "Okay. It's probably nothing, anyway. But…sometimes I get…pain."

  "In your head?"

  "Yeah. And there…are these flashes."

  Max's brows came together. "Like, light? Colors? What?"

  "Images. Pictures, faces. Voices, sometimes. Stuff that doesn't make any sense." She sighed. "It all comes at once, and I can hardly…it's just a jumbled mess. Most of the time."

  "Is that what happened on the road, on the way to Maine ?"

  Stormy nodded. "Yeah"

  "And what did you see?"

  She shrugged, shook her head. "Jason. And another man, a man I don't know. But…I do. It's like when the word you want is on the tip of your tongue and you can't quite make it come out, you know?"

  "I…guess so"

  "It's like a strobe effect, too many things, too fast to make any sense or even try. But I know there was something about Jay. And it happened again, when we first got here, when he hugged me. And that time I think I saw him being beaten, kicked. I think that's how he got those bruises. Not from some accidental fall in the woods."

  She chanced a look at Max's eyes, and saw them wide and riveted.

  "Don't. Don't look at me like I'm insane."

  "You're not insane, Stormy. Maybe…do you think you might be psychic?"

  Stormy rolled her eyes, got to her feet, paced the room. "It could just as easily be imagination running amok. Delusion. Hallucination. I had a whopper of a head injury, right? So who's to say something didn't get knocked off-kilter?" She pressed her lips tight. "I think maybe I have to face the fact that there could be some brain damage after all, pal."

  Max closed her eyes, shook her head firmly. "No. Look, you said you saw Jason in that first flash. On the way to the house. And when we got there, he'd left a message for us. He was in trouble, and you knew it. You picked up on it. It was precognitive."

  "You can't know that."

  "The hell I can't."

  Sighing, Stormy went back to the bed, put a hand on Max's shoulder. "You want to believe it because it's easier to deal with than the other option. I know you pretty well, too, don't forget"

  Again, Max shook her head. "I won't believe it's brain damage. Do you know how many people experience the onset of this kind of ability after a near-death experience or a coma?"

  "Yeah. And ten thousand times more people experience permanent brain damage instead."

  Max narrowed her eyes on Stormy. Then she surged to her feet and stomped to the door. Stormy didn't know what she was up to and hurried after her. She marched along the sidewalk to the room next door and pounded on the door.

  "Jesus, Maxie, don't tell Lou about this. He'll have me in the nearest hospital for a round of CAT scans—"

  "I'm not going to tell him." She pounded again.

  The door was flung open, and Lou stood there with a towel anchored around his hips. Stormy had to fight a grin when she saw the look on Max's face. She wondered if her friend had ever seen Lou Malone's chest before. 'Cuz damn, it was quite the specimen. Apparently Max thought so, too, because her eyes were ravaging it.

  "What?" Lou asked.

  Max blinked, forcing her eyes to meet his, and said, “Uh—yeah, I…uh…" She caught herself, cleared her throat, seeming to have forgotten why she'd come over, but only briefly. "Tell Storm what you told me about Jason's bruises."

  Frowning, Lou gave a quick glance up and down the sidewalk, then gripped her arm and pulled her inside, jerking his head to tell Stormy to follow. She did, and he closed the door.

  "Jesus, Max, why not announce it to the world?"

  "Just tell her, Lou." Her eyes were on his chest again. He frowned, snatched a plaid flannel bathrobe from where he'd flung it over his duffel bag and pulled it on.

  While he tied the sash, he said, “I thought you wanted me to put a lid on my suspicions of your boyfriend, Max?"

  "Just freaking tell her."

  He sighed, his eyes probing Max's before he turned to face Stormy. "I've seen a lot of accidents. And a lot of beatings. And I think Jason's bruises came from the latter."

  Stormy stopped watching Max, turned to watch him instead. "You think he was beaten?"

  "Yeah."

  "Are you sure?"

  Lou shrugged. "No. Not a hundred percent. But if I were a betting man, I'd put a lot of money on it"

  Max managed to turn her attention back to Stormy. "See?"

  Lou looked at her with his brows raised. "What? You got a suspicious feeling about him too, Storm?"

  "Just an inkling."

  Lou nodded, then shifted his gaze to Max. "You?"

  She pursed her lips, sighing. "Hell, I don't know. I could argue with one of you, but if you both think something's wrong, I guess I have to acknowledge the possibility. But hell, I don't want to. I love Jay, and my natural instinct is to trust him. And besides, even if he did lie about how he got those bruises, that doesn't mean he's up to anything sinister."

  "Bullshit," Lou muttered.

  Stormy cleared her throat, deciding to change the subject before the two of them got too bristly with each other again. "What did you guys find out at the visitor center?" Stormy asked.

  "Haven't been yet," Lou said. "Max wanted to get back here to check on you first. You were sleeping so soundly she wanted to give you a little more time, so we agreed to unpack, catch a shower and meet Jason outside about twenty minutes from now."

  He glanced at Max. "We still on for that?"

  "Yeah. I'm ready when you are"

  "I'm coming with you this time" Stormy added, “I just…I nee
d to run a comb through my hair first"

  "And eat the sandwich I brought you,” Max said. "Turkey with the works, and extra mayo. Just the way you like it."

  "That'll give me time to throw on some clothes," Lou said.

  With a nod, Stormy left the room. She noticed, though, that Max didn't.

  Max stood there, near the door, watching him. Lou looked at her, met her eyes. "What?"

  She shrugged, lowered her head.

  He moved closer, caught her chin and tipped it up so he could see her face. "What's wrong?"

  She wanted to lean up and kiss him. She wanted it so much she barely restrained herself. But hell, he'd all but warned her he would be history if she kept pushing. She'd made up her mind to change tactics, but damn, it was tough. "You're a liar, that's what."

  He looked at her as if she were speaking a foreign language. "I haven't lied to you about anything, Max." "No? You go around in those baggy suits of yours, playing the tired-out, worn-out, burned-out cop to the hilt. But underneath it, you've got…" She let her eyes slide lower, over his chest, his belly, even though he'd hidden them behind that stupid robe. She wanted to rip it off him. She wanted to touch him.

  She swallowed the impulse and almost choked on it. "You've been hiding behind an image that's a big fat lie."

  "Why? Because I don't parade around naked?" He held up a hand. "Don't."

  She closed her eyes briefly. "You work out, huh?"

  "Have to. It's necessity, not vanity. It was, anyway, and I can't seem to break the habit just because I've retired. You can't be mad at me for that, Max."

  She let herself look at him again, couldn't help licking her lips as she did. "Mad at you? For having a belly I could bounce a quarter off? No, I don't think mad is the word I would use. You're a beautiful man, Lou. Inside and out. I'm not mad, I'm…" The word horny crossed her mind, but she decided not to say it. She couldn't hide the secret smile, though, that came when she thought of the look that would doubtless appear on his face if she were to say it. "Never mind,” she told him at last. "Get dressed. We'll be ready to go in a few minutes. I'll get Jay."

  He nodded, and Max left the room.

  "This would have been preferable in the daylight,” Lou muttered as the four of them marched around the visitor center, aiming for the woods behind it. Max was walking beside him, Jason and Stormy behind them.

  They all had flashlights, and the moon was full. It could have been worse, Lou figured, but not by much.

  He was still puzzled over Max's reaction to walking in and catching him half naked. He'd expected her to revert to shameless teasing and outrageous flirting. She hadn't. Oh, she'd made it clear she liked what she saw—and he was human enough to feel good about that. Hell, every man had an ego. She'd given his a boost and then some. But no flirting. No "accidental" touching. No sexual remarks. Maybe she really was going to knock it off. And, that was a good thing: That was what he wanted.

  Which didn't explain the slightly disappointed feeling that had hit him when she'd left. Almost as if he missed it.

  And he couldn't help but wonder if she'd dropped her constant flirting because he'd asked her to, or because she'd found a more interesting and appreciative target. He hadn't missed her tenderness toward Jason Beck. The hugs, the touches—she touched the guy a lot. And if anyone else were acting the way Jason had been, Max would have been questioning his motives in less than a minute. With Jason, she defended him instead.

  It shouldn't bother him. He told himself the only reason it did was because he sensed the man posed a threat to her. He sensed it in that deep, hidden part of him that had kept him alive for the past twenty years. And if she didn't wake up, she was going to be a sitting duck.

  The visitor center was a single-story brick rectangle with a soft-drink machine in front of it and rest rooms at the rear. It sat at the back side of a wide strip of pavement. Shaggy grass grew on all sides. There wasn't much else.

  "Now, remember, we're breaking Fieldner's curfew in express violation of his orders,” Lou said. "And we're in plain sight. We should make this fast and get out of here."

  Everyone nodded in agreement. Everyone but Jason. He was looking around them as if certain a bogeyman was going to jump out of the shadows and grab him at any moment.

  They checked the parking lot first, spreading out, their flashlights sweeping the blacktop, finding nothing. At first. Then Max knelt, picked something up.

  "What have you got?" Lou asked.

  "It's a receipt from an ATM" She looked up at him, then shifted her gaze to Jason. " Albany, New York. Your hometown, Jay. Dated two days ago."

  Jason held out his hand. "Let me see that"

  As he scanned the tiny slip of paper, Stormy said,” The last four digits of the account number should be on there. Do you know if they match hers?"

  Jay closed his eyes. "I haven't got it memorized."

  "Doesn't matter,” Lou said. "After all, how many people from Albany do you figure have been here in the last two days?"

  "Not very damn many,” Max said. "So we know she was here."

  Jason nodded. "But her car's not here. She must have gone on—"

  "Anyone could have moved the car. I say it's time we take a look around those woods." Max put her hand on Jason's arm. "Just as a precaution. Okay?"

  "Okay."

  They walked behind the visitor center. The place looked neat, until they traipsed along what looked like a well-worn path that wound from the rear of the building into the woods behind it. There things got messy.

  Soft drink cans, fast food and candy-bar wrappers, and crumpled cellophane potato chip bags littered the ground. Decomposing cigarette butts, discarded paper towels and tissues…

  "Jesus, people are slobs,” Lou muttered.

  Max shot Lou a look that said she agreed and trudged on along the path. She slowed her pace, moving her flashlight beam carefully over the ground. "Most of this litter looks like it's been here awhile. Colors are faded, papers are soggy."

  "Mother Earth's in the process of turning garbage into mulch and fertilizer,” Stormy said, bending to pick up a molded foam cup that was so covered in dirt it had probably been lying there for months. "She won't have much luck with some of this, though. Not for several centuries, anyway." She didn't put the cup back; instead she stuck it into her backpack.

  "Like that helps,” Jason said.

  "Every little bit helps, Jay. If everyone who came out here picked something up instead of throwing something down, the place would be pristine."

  "This is getting us nowhere,” Lou said. "Not in the dark without some idea where to look. I hate to say it, but Fieldner might have been right about this being a waste of time."

  "We got the ATM receipt,” Max said. "That's something, anyway." She narrowed her eyes. "Fieldner said he'd taken a look around out here. Kind of surprising he didn't find it."

  She shot a look at Stormy, who shot one right back. And when they both looked at Lou, he had to agree with what he knew they were thinking. Fieldner was a cop. He would have found the slip if he'd been out here looking at all. But why would he lie?

  "This is useless,” Max said. The four of them had moved off in separate directions, using a large boulder as their hub. Their hope was that in searching in an ever-widening circle, one of them might stumble upon a clue to which direction the girls had gone. Or had been taken. If they'd even been in the woods at all.

  Max took the east, with Lou on her left, heading north. Stormy was on her right, heading south and deeper into the woods. Jason had the west, which basically covered the area between the boulder and the vacant brick building. It hadn't been an organized plan; it had just worked out that way, though Max was certain none of them trusted Jay quite as much as she would have liked. She kept telling herself that she did trust him, that she knew him, had known him forever, and that his odd behavior was just due to stress and worry over his sister. But all the while she felt a niggling doubt gnawing away at her loyalty to her friend. So
mething was off about Jay, and she could deny it, but that wouldn't make it right.

  She was, Lou had often told her, the queen of denial. Hell, maybe she was. She'd certainly been in denial where Lou was concerned.

  "It's too dark,” she muttered as she swept the beam of her light over the moss-and-twig littered ground amid a patchwork of moonlight and shadow. She raised her voice a bit, making it loud enough to carry to the others, who were beyond her range of sight now. "We should give this up and come back tomorrow."

  The breeze picked up, making the leaves rustle and whisper through the trees.

  "I agree with Max,” Lou called.

  It gave her a start when she heard how far away he seemed to be. She hadn't realized she'd ventured this far—that any of them had ventured so far—from the boulder. "Let's meet back in the middle,” she called, a little louder this time. No point in risking any of them getting lost. God, she would hate like hell to prove that creepy Fieldner right. "Okay?"

  "Works for me,” Lou called.

  "Me, too." Jason's voice seemed even more distant than Lou's.

  Max turned toward the south. But no confirmation rang out from that direction. "Stormy?" she called. "Hey, Storm, are you there?"

  Nothing. No answer. Max's heart beat faster. "Storm?" Something. came crashing through the trees from behind her, and she spun around, half expecting to have to fend off an attack. Suddenly something very dark seemed to permeate these woods. She raised her fists, poised to kick the stuffing out of whoever—whatever—appeared.

  But it was only Lou who emerged from the dark foliage, his face bathed in moonlight, creased with worry.

  "Something's wrong. Storm's not answering,” she told him.

  He nodded, never slowing his pace, just coming up beside her, sliding a hand around her waist and propelling her forward, toward where they both knew Stormy was supposed to be. "Dammit, Stormy, where the hell are you?" Lou called.

 

‹ Prev