Brown Eyed Ghoul

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Brown Eyed Ghoul Page 24

by H. P. Mallory


  “I’m trying to find a man,” Drake said. “His name is Griscom. George Griscom.”

  Lucien stared blankly before finally repeating the name “Griscom… Griscom…” over and over he said it again, like he was tasting the word with his tongue. His low voice trailed off. He stared at the ground and his eyes roamed from side-to-side in thought. “I know that name,” he said, evidently still trying to place it.

  My shoulders, which were already nearly next to my ears with all the palpable tension in the room, rose even higher and I leaned forward in my chair.

  “Not a George, though. No. It was… I know! Andrew! He was that young fellow who jumped to his death off a cruise deck. The news ate it up. Sad story, of course, but it only goes to prove that love can make us do the oddest things.” He winked at me and I shifted in my seat.

  “I don’t think that’s the one. You’ve never heard of a Griscom around here then?” I asked, visibly deflated. “There’s a chance he could go by the name, Junior?”

  Lucien was deep in thought again. He absentmindedly twirled the ends of his moustache. Finally, his eyes lit up.

  “I’ve seen the family Griscom at events near the marina. The family certainly likes their yachts. I vaguely remember the old man mighta been called George, but I don’t know anything about a Junior.”

  “Old man?” I asked, all hope draining rapidly.

  “The man you’re looking for is old.”

  “How old?” I asked. I had no right to judge Dorothy’s taste in men. I suppose I just assumed Alice’s father would be roughly the same age as Dorothy, twenty-five.

  “I don’t know… Seventy? Eighty? I haven’t seen them around recently though.”

  My eyebrows rose in surprise. If he were out impregnating twenty-five-year-old girls, he must have been pretty macho, but still! I had to refocus.

  “You mean he’s not in New York?” I asked, disappointed. The doctor’s face came to mind. It was becoming clear we weren’t getting anywhere. We were wasting our precious time; we needed a new plan.

  “No. Although I don’t know him well enough to say for sure.”

  Suddenly, I started to remember snippets of my first conversation with Ada and Jill. Didn’t they mention George’s parents liked traveling? He stayed home because he was sick. George Griscom could have been Junior’s father. Things were starting to fall into place. I apologized internally to Dorothy for daring to imagine she’d entertain such an elderly, mature gentleman.

  “We are on the right track,” I said to Drake, excitedly. “George is Junior’s father.”

  Drake smiled at me in a way that said he was proud of me. His eyes were warm and his lips were so plump… I forced myself to look away from him and settled my eyes on his brother who was still watching me.

  “Where do the Griscoms live?” I asked Lucien.

  Lucien looked annoyed, “I’m not a directory, mon chaton.” It threw me when he used Drake’s term of endearment for me and it sounded weird coming from another man’s mouth. Drake frowned but remained silent.

  I looked at Drake. At least we had a good place to start, the marina. Hopefully, they’d have a record of his address there.

  Lucien didn’t skip a beat; “Is that all I can assist you with this evening? Any letters you want me to send? Future meetings you’d like me to arrange?” His words came out with cruel sarcasm. A malicious smile tugged at his lips, and in that moment, he looked nothing like Drake.

  With the main mystery solved, I couldn’t wait to get out of Lucien’s house. Even though he helped us, the entire exchange was cold and tense. My chest hurt from watching all the glares the two brothers exchanged. The fire crackled, but its heat couldn’t compete with the extreme chill that settled over the room. Lucien lifted Drake’s untouched drink. It was time to go.

  “Thank you for all your help, Lucien,” I said to him as I stood up. “It was nice to meet you.”

  Lucien ignored me, fixing his eyes on Drake. “How long are you in New York?” he asked with a sneer.

  “Not long, maybe another day at most.”

  “What do you want with the old man anyway? He doesn’t seem like your type.” For a moment, my head flashed to Drake’s insistence that I shield him from “homosexual encounters.” I almost laughed but managed to hide my inappropriate amusement behind a cough. Neither man seemed to notice.

  “He knows someone we need to talk to,” said Drake vaguely, also rising and standing. Lucien shrugged.

  “Does this mean I’m going to see more of you?” Lucien asked apathetically.

  “I wouldn’t say that,” answered Drake. It wasn’t quite the family feel-good moment I hoped to witness but at least, no one threw any punches. If we could leave the house unscathed, I’d call our mission a success.

  Lucien nodded slowly and walked back to the entrance hall where he opened the door.

  “Thanks for dropping by,” he said without any sincerity.

  Drake stepped out on the stoop and looked at his brother one final time. “Nothing has changed with Lola and my threat still stands,” he said ominously. He fixed Lucien with a hard stare and my heart lurched in my chest. I realized with sadness that it wasn’t because of the threat to his brother but the effect it had on me. He still felt so protective over Lola, the candor of his words hit me like a sucker punch to the stomach. Even after all these years, he was still protecting her. My own jealousy made me ashamed.

  The black door closed in response and we stood facing each other in silence on the stoop.

  “Well, that was charming,” I said trying to ease the tension.

  Drake ignored me and his eyebrows knitted together. He placed his hands in his pockets and started down the steps. I had a feeling his response had little to do with his brother and more to do with his undying love for Lola. I trailed desperately after him, and cursed my stupidity for feeling so hurt.

  NINETEEN

  Drake was silent as he got back into the cab. The driver was in his seat and waiting for our instructions. Darkness finally descended.

  “Are you okay?” I asked Drake.

  I was worried about him. Yes, it hurt to realize how much he still cared for Lola but, if I were being honest with myself, I wouldn’t have expected anything less from him. He was a protective man, and his very existence in my house proved that. If anyone had a right to be jealous, it was him, not me. I reprimanded myself for my childish emotions. None of them mattered anyway. Our lives were very different and this was his reality. I had mine with Ryan and he had his with Lola.

  “Can you take us to the marina, please?” Drake asked the driver. The car lurched forward with a loud clang.

  “Drake?”

  Finally, he turned to me, his eyes were pained. “This time, ma minette, I’m sorry but I need to shut you out.” He swiveled back in his seat and stared out the window. I watched him, utterly shocked.

  My mouth turned sour. He was giving me a taste of my own medicine and yet again, I was stunned into silence. I knew he wasn’t doing it to punish me, but the hurt I felt at his words made my eyes sting with tears. It worried me that he was withdrawing so far into himself so often, we didn’t have time to fall apart. We had to be a team, but it was hard to focus on that because all I cared about in that moment was the man I loved…

  I stopped myself. I thought the word so easily that it floored me for a moment. I knew it was true, of course. I did love Drake. I’d said as much to him the last time I traveled back to his time to defeat the Axeman. But the easiness with which the word came to my mind now sprouted new seeds of doubt that irritated the lining of my stomach.

  Was it possible to love both Drake and Ryan? Ryan was real and alive and I cared for him deeply. Never in a million years could I imagine being so lucky to have someone as safe and dependable as Ryan by my side. And, somewhere, only one hundred and eight years into the future, he was by my side now too.

  But, regardless of where my real body lay, Drake was the only reality that mattered to me now.
I wasn’t in a modern New York hotel room; I was sitting in a rumbling automobile next to the literal man of my dreams. Drake was nothing like Ryan—he was dark and brooding and troubled. I cared for him with an unrivaled intensity that made my cheeks flush. And now, with him sitting beside me, I actually had to strain to remember Ryan. The features of his face came less readily now, even after only two days! The world I’d left behind felt less and less real with the more time I spent in this one.

  For a moment, I wondered if my condition were the result of being outside my tangible body. I reassessed the weakness that plagued my body; it felt unnatural. I struggled to remember my real life. My energy flagged almost at once. The realization sent icy bolts down my spine. I didn’t know how much longer I could stay in the past before I forgot about my real life entirely.

  Christopher had warned me about spending too much time away from the physical world when he said “the longer your body and spirit are on different planes of existence,” the riskier it becomes, but he hadn’t warned me about this.

  I looked back at Drake. Regardless of the effects the time travel took on my physical and emotional state, he undoubtedly must have been feeling this way for months. For the first time, I began to realize how painful it was for Drake to live his life through the eyes of another person.

  I eyed Drake with concern, but granted his request for silence.

  ***

  When we arrived at the marina, Drake and I exited the cab. I stood stock still, feeling totally unsure of where to go. But Drake started off confidently toward a large building on the far end of the busy lot. The full, white moon shone on the surface of the water and provided so much light to the scene, it looked almost like daybreak. Drake’s long legs carried him swiftly past the docked boats. I shuffled along quickly after him, my eyes widening at the larger ships I saw looming in the background. People bustled around, as if it were any other evening. I stayed close to Drake’s heels, afraid we’d become separated.

  When we made it to the building, Drake turned right and headed toward a small, white one-room building. The sign read, “Banana Docks Mariner’s Club.” Music sounded from inside and oil lamps hung from the walls.

  I followed Drake past the lighted entrance and edged around several elegant tables. We made our way to a desk occupied by a young man in a nice three-piece suit and a top hat. I felt slightly winded from the briskness of our walk.

  “Do you know this place?” I whispered as low as I could when we approached the desk.

  “I’ve only been here once; my uncle was a member,” he murmured back before greeting the host with a beaming smile.

  “Good evening, sir,” said the young man. “Can I have your name please?”

  “Montague,” said Drake, somewhat impatiently. The man raised his eyebrows and smiled.

  “Two for dinner, sir?”

  “No, thank you, I actually came here to ask about someone on your guest list.” The man raised his eyebrows again and looked back at Drake expectantly. “The name is Griscom. George or possibly, Junior?”

  “Are you expecting them, sir?” the man asked.

  Drake just nodded quickly and watched as the man took a book out from beneath the desk and started to leaf through it. A foghorn reverberated through the building and I took a step closer to Drake. I saw his body relaxing slightly when my arm grazed his. My cheeks flushed with relief. Hopefully, his cold shoulder was coming to an end.

  “Ah, yes. Griscom. George Senior, George Junior, and Mary.”

  “Yes, that’s them. I was hoping you could give me their address please?”

  “Ah, I’m so sorry, sir. We’re really not allowed to divulge any personal information from our members, I’m sure you understand.”

  I couldn’t accept that. Not after we’d come so far. I stood directly in front of the man and put on my best doe-eyed expression. “Oh, please, couldn’t you bend the rules just a little? We’re visiting all the way from New Orleans and we’re so looking forward to paying a visit to our dear friends.” I batted my eyelashes at him as convincingly as I could. “We planned a big surprise for them. They don’t know we’ve arrived.”

  The man looked uncertain. I glanced quickly at Drake who was busy concealing a smirk. I returned my eyes to my target and placed an elbow on his counter so I could rest my face on my hand as I gazed up at him in what I hoped was an imploring and compassionate expression.

  “Well, I suppose so. If you are old friends,” he wavered.

  “Thank you, darling,” I said with as much girly flare as I could muster. In truth, I was feeling much more relaxed after sensing the slight shift in Drake’s demeanor. Once again, I had to resist the urge to touch him.

  The porter slid the book towards me so I could see the address that followed the Griscom family names and membership numbers. I nodded slightly to indicate I committed the address to memory, then winked at the young man. He smiled at me with a dopey expression, but after he caught Drake’s watchful eyes, he began to cough as he straightened. I couldn’t help but smile as we walked away.

  Finally, things were moving in the right direction. Now we just had to hope Junior, whoever he was, could give us some information regarding the circumstances that led to Dorothy’s trip to the hospital. If we could find out why she went there, maybe we could learn why she couldn’t leave.

  We resumed our brisk walk as soon as we exited the club, but this time, Drake linked his arm through mine. “You never told me what you saw when you were exploring the grounds today while I was in the hospital with Dorothy,” I said hesitantly, loath to receive the silent treatment again. “The nurse keeps the front door locked. Did you happen to see another way in?”

  “No, I never made it to the hospital,” he said, in a hushed tone as he continued his brisk walk back toward the cab.

  “What? I thought you said you saw something?”

  “I’m not exactly sure what I saw, but in the forest behind the building, I think maybe I found a cemetery.”

  “A cemetery? But no one lives out there.”

  “Well, if that’s what it was, it certainly wasn’t a public one. There was a fenced off area with six plots delineated by rocks. One of them looked fairly new. Whatever it was, I imagine it belongs to the hospital.”

  I shivered as I remembered the doctor telling me about the women that died there—and I imagined Thomas Dickerson driving away with no one in his back seat. If there had been deaths, then the doctor had to have done something with the bodies, and it would have been very hush hush so an impromptu cemetery behind the hospital made sense. What a terrible: alone, ashamed, and hiding. They had to spend their eternities in unmarked graves. Then, a worse thought occurred to me: if Dorothy were, in fact, still alive, then some of the deaths may not have been accidents.

  “I left before I had a proper chance to investigate,” Drake continued. “I heard a crack, that sounded like a breaking twig and I sensed someone else was there. I couldn’t see anyone, so it was probably just a trick of my imagination, but I figured it was time to leave anyway. I wanted to be back to the cab by the time you left the hospital.” He cleared his throat. “I was worried about you and was moments from coming after you.”

  “It’s a good thing you didn’t because that would have definitely blown our cover,” I said even though I was grateful all the same.

  My desire to return to Dorothy intensified. What if we came back to seven plots? Drake looked similarly thoughtful, but it occurred to me that maybe his pensive expression wasn’t about Dorothy. The green-eyed monster reared its head once more, but I was beginning to put everything into perspective.

  “Drake?” I asked hesitantly.

  “Yes, ma minette?”

  “I just wanted to apologize.” I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully, but trying to let him know I fully understood his change in demeanor.

  “For what?” he asked me quizzically.

  “For the first time, I’m starting to realize how it feels to be you, t
rapped in a world you don’t understand and deprived of the things you desire. I’m sorry for not being more empathetic.”

  He smiled sadly, and his face was fully illuminated in the pale moonlight. The bustling sounds around us seemed to fade as I stared into his chocolate brown eyes.

  “You have nothing to apologize for, mon chaton. I much prefer haunting you than your house,” he finished with a laugh.

  “Our house,” I corrected him.

  He nodded and smiled sadly. “Oui, our house.” Then he took a big breath. “Let’s double our efforts on finding Junior and getting back to the hospital. Remember what Lovie said: the longer we stay here, the harder it will be for us to get back.”

  I nodded in agreement but part of me indulged the prospect of not going back. I felt the warmth of Drake’s arm on mine, and smelled the thick, masculine scent of him. Even though it wasn’t my reality, the thought of staying here with Drake was more than seductive and it enticed me. Those thoughts worried me, but I couldn’t shake them once they entered my mind.

  Our faithful cabby was leaning against the side of his vehicle. When he saw us, he opened the back door and we both climbed in. I gave the driver Griscom’s address and we started off in pursuit of what I hoped wouldn’t become another wild goose chase. It was only keeping us from Dorothy. Worry made my stomach roil once more. It didn’t help that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Anxiety wore me out and the lethargy pulled at my eyelids. I rested my head on Drake’s shoulder and kept it there despite seeing Ryan’s face when I closed my eyes.

  ***

  We came to a stop in front of a house that was much less impressive than Lucien’s. Ivy crawled up the dark brick exterior. It was a handsome townhome, to be sure, but nothing compared to the stateliness and elegance of the Montague property.

  Drake led the way up to the front door and knocked—everything looked a different shade of gray in the surreal light of the moon. There was no response to his knock. I couldn’t see any light coming from the windows. Drake knocked again, but already, my spirits had fallen. There was no one home, and apparently, the whole mission was a giant waste of time.

 

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