Chapter 19
Two days later, they gathered again in the conference room. Joy had related to Gail all the information she had gleaned in her visit to Gareth, and Gail had promised to pass it along immediately. Joy was anxious to see the guardians take action and move in to contain Melisande. The image that came to mind was all of her teachers dressed in camouflage, rappelling down the walls of Melisande’s house and crashing in through the windows. Some of them might not be built for such a mission, like Mo, but maybe they’d be stationed outside ready to deploy the tear gas. She was definitely ready for someone to administer a beat-down to Melisande.
So it was all the more shocking to learn that, far from embarking on hostilities with Melisande, the Ash Grove guardians were prepared to do nothing more aggressive than “wait and see.”
“What?” she demanded, certain she was hearing them wrong.
The silver-haired former principal, Dr. Fellowes, spoke for the council. “I’m sorry, Joy, but what you learned really doesn’t tell us that much. It’s not enough to justify our declaring war on Melisande.”
She stared at them in disbelief. Sitting around the table, they looked far too placid for her taste. “But he told me that Melisande isn’t human! That she and her inner court, or whatever you want to call them, pulled the actual life force out of him, and they’ll probably do it to Tanner if we don’t stop them. What exactly about that is ambiguous?”
Dr. Aysgarth cleared her throat. “The thing is, Joy, we need confirmation from this Gareth Godwin. It’s not that we don’t trust you,” she added quickly. “We just can’t afford to work on hearsay, and there was also the possibility that this man wasn’t in his right mind, or was putting you on for reasons of his own. We need to be able to talk to him in person to gauge how much we feel we can trust his story.”
“And? Did he tell you what he told me?”
“He’s disappeared, Joy,” said Gail heavily. “There’s no sign that he was ever at the address you gave me.”
This shocked her into silence for a moment. Was he so frightened of Melisande tracking him down that he’d relocated practically overnight? Or was he scared that someone would follow up on Joy’s visit and find that he was carrying out a hoax?
There was a worse possibility that she hardly dared think about: if Melisande had found him, she might have eliminated him—out of vengeance, perhaps, or to prevent him from talking to anyone else. Joy took a deep breath to steady herself. There was no need to panic yet.
“What about his brother?” she asked. “Could he tell you anything?”
“We didn’t find a brother,” said Dr. Fellowes. “The only person at that address was an elderly woman who seemed to have severe hearing problems.”
“That sounds awfully convenient,” said Joy, and she could tell from their expressions that several of the guardians agreed with her.
“We couldn’t exactly subpoena her,” said Dr. Aysgarth. “If she was faking, she was determined not to give us any information; and if she wasn’t faking, she was no use to us. I’m afraid your lead is a dead end, Joy.”
She couldn’t accept that. “If you could just think about it,” she pleaded. “Just consider the possibility that he told me the truth. Melisande is dangerous, and she’s right on our doorstep. Isn’t it worse not to take any action than to risk being wrong? If we’re wrong, well, so we’re on bad terms with our next-door neighbor. But if we’re right—if I’m right—we have a duty to protect the students here.”
“No one is neglecting the well-being of the students, Joy,” said Mo. “We have a number of measures in place to prevent harm from coming to Ash Grove.”
“May I ask what these measures are?”
“You may ask,” he returned, with a smile to soften the words, “which is not to say we’ll tell you. Some of them demand secrecy or would take too long to explain. But I can tell you that, for example, we’ve carefully maintained the rowan and holly trees that provide a physical barrier against ill-intentioned invaders. Entrances are protected with salt and iron. Other means are less tangible but no less effective.”
“And of course we bring in extra security measures on occasions when the risk is higher, such as Samhain,” added Dr. Aysgarth. “We’re hiring security guards to patrol the area as well. The student population isn’t in any danger as long as they stay on campus.”
“But we can’t stay penned up here forever,” Joy objected. “And what about Tanner? He used to be a student here. Doesn’t he deserve protection as well?”
“Ah, yes, young Mr. Lindsey.” Dr. Fellowes shifted in his chair and glanced briefly at Dr. Aysgarth. “I’m afraid we really have no authority to intervene in his case, Joy. Not only is he a dropout, and thus out of our jurisdiction, but he is legally Melisande’s ward.”
Joy stared at him in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said. “I’m talking about saving his life, and you’re worried about legal issues?”
“Like it or not, Joy, we do have to act within the law,” said the nurse. “It’s an unpleasant fact of life in our time that one well-aimed lawsuit can do just as much damage as witchcraft.”
“So have you decided that’s what Melisande is? A witch?” Joy didn’t try to hide her doubt. “The more I learn about her, the more she looks to me like some kind of psychic vampire—a creature that absorbs human energies just by being close to people.” She noticed some stares. “What?” she said. “My dad’s an English teacher, you pick things up.”
Dr. Fellowes cleared his throat. “I’m afraid that speculating on the nature of this woman is moot at this point. She’s kept her nose clean as far as we can tell—at least with regard to Ash Grove—and the worst thing we can accuse her of is of having some bad press. Has it occurred to you that this Godwin may be mentally disturbed? Many celebrities have stalkers who believe some truly insane things about their idols. Godwin may be such a person—someone unbalanced who created this story of his association with Melisande because it feeds some psychological need in him.”
“I should also point out,” said Dr. Aysgarth, reluctantly, “that Godwin was in and out of rehab clinics during his time with Melisande. He evidently had a serious heroin habit. It’s possible he hallucinated the entire ritual that he described to you.”
Joy stewed silently. They could be right, of course, but both explanations seemed too convenient in that they absolved the guardians of all responsibility for anything that happened to Tanner. She was shocked that they seemed to have the attitude that whatever didn’t happen on the Ash Grove campus to one of their own was none of their concern.
“I can’t help wondering,” she said at last, “if you’d have this attitude if my dad were here.” Her father had been unable to sit in on this meeting, they had told her, because of a doctor’s appointment, but she wondered if that was true or just a convenient fiction. She stood up. “I think I’ll leave now, if you don’t mind, and continue researching on my own. And I have to tell you, if I can’t rely on you for help in trying to save Tanner, then you can’t expect me to cooperate with you in the future. If I have to be a lone gunman, I will.”
Gail looked distressed. “Joy, please don’t go like this. We want to help, we really do.”
“You may,” said Joy. “I’m not sure about the rest of this council. See ya.”
She was seething as she left the classroom building. What was the matter with them? The last time she’d met with the council, they’d been actively investigating Melisande. She couldn’t understand why they were so reluctant now to rock the boat. Tanner was in danger, and they couldn’t be bothered to help him.
She knew too that it would be no good appealing to her father. He would probably just consider this a good opportunity for her to practice being autonomous—or orphaned.
Which meant it was up to her. Well, she would be delighted to take on Melisande if it would help Tanner—hell, even if it was just to get some revenge for all she’d put the two of them through.
; Her phone rang. It was William.
“I’ve got news,” he said, before she could say it wasn’t a good time to talk. “Something you’ll be interested in. Tasha and I are in rehearsal room B; come on over.”
The rehearsal rooms were small soundproof cells in the music building’s basement, windowless except for a pane set into each door. They made Joy feel claustrophobic, but most of the music students seemed fine with them. She found room B and waved at them through the window until she got their attention, since knocking would be futile. William pushed the door open to let her in. He had an air of importance.
“I’ve got a gig,” he announced. “At Melisande’s.”
She regarded him in concern. “And this is a good thing?”
Tasha gave William a meaningful look. “I told you she wouldn’t be happy.”
“Can you blame me?” she said at the same time that William was saying, “No, I think this could be a chance for you to get in touch with Tanner. To, you know, infiltrate.”
He must have been thinking of some of the same Tom Clancy scenarios that she’d been imagining. But before she started pricing camouflage jumpsuits, she needed the full lowdown.
“Okay, start at the beginning,” she said.
Miss Small, the voice teacher, had called William into her office earlier that afternoon. She had had a call from Raven inquiring about the possibility of hiring some talented students to provide musical accompaniment to a cocktail party Melisande was giving to celebrate the fall equinox. It would be the ideal opportunity for the students to get some exposure, he said, and if Melisande liked what she heard she might consider producing an album. Miss Small had thought of William right away, and he suggested Tasha for vocals.
Joy had listened to all this with what she thought was admirable patience. “I’m happy for you, I guess,” she said. “But I don’t see how this really gets me a foot in the door at Melisande’s. You’ll be in view the whole time; there probably won’t be any opportunity for you to get Tanner alone to give him a message.”
“We thought about that,” said Tasha. “And also, if we tried to pass him anything written, there’d be too big a risk of someone else getting hold of it and showing Melisande. But then William had an idea.”
He was almost hugging himself with excitement. “What if you sent him a coded message in a song?”
“That sounds like a long shot,” said Joy slowly. “But you know, it might be worth trying.” She mulled it over a few minutes, and looked up to see both her friends watching her eagerly. She suddenly felt touched by their support. Especially from Tasha, whose opinion of Tanner wasn’t much higher than Maddie’s. William must have talked her around. “You guys are really great,” she said. “Whether it works or not, it means a lot that you’d do this for me.”
“Keep that in mind when Christmas rolls around,” said William lightly. “So, let’s get down to business. Tasha and I are working on a set list, and here’s what we’ve got so far. It’ll need to be in a similar style to these…”
Over the next couple of days they hammered out the song. The tune would be one of the folk ballads her mother had arranged for piano, with new lyrics by Joy: lyrics with a message. Joy had a difficult time making them both significant and nonspecific, so that Tanner would get the message but Melisande would not. “Keep it simple,” Tasha advised, so Joy decided that she would just ask him to meet her in the graveyard. Face to face she could tell him all the things she couldn’t convey in a song. She would be waiting for him in the old cemetery that night, and just had to hope that he would be able to find an excuse to meet her there.
Now that she knew what a predator Melisande was, Joy had given a lot of thought to her friends’ safety in going to her house. But Tasha had already met Melisande and hadn’t been star-struck, and William—well, brilliant though he was, Joy simply couldn’t picture the creature working her wiles on skinny, nearsighted William. Nevertheless, in consultation with Gail, she put together two small bundles of dried herbs to ward off evil magic. She told Tasha and William to carry them for luck when they performed.
She also didn’t give up on other ways of reaching Tanner. The next afternoon after her classes she got on her bicycle and rode over to Melisande’s. Might as well try being direct.
It was a longer ride than she remembered, and she wondered if Melisande had expected to be able to clear a route where her property abutted the campus. Maybe she hadn’t realized that the ridge would be so precarious a cut-through, or maybe the Ash Grove board had vetoed it. It might have meant cutting down some of the guardian trees, or it might have interfered with the charm or genius loci or whatever secret protective measure was in place. Joy wished the guardians had been less cagey with her; she would have liked to know just what was supposedly keeping her campus safe from the skank next door.
At the front gates she stopped and gave her name to a burly man with a walkie-talkie. He gave her a skeptical look but spoke to someone on the other end, and after a brief back-and-forth he activated the gates to open. Joy restrained herself from giving him a salute and rode through.
The driveway leading up to the house was also longer than she had remembered, but then last time she hadn’t been covering it under her own power. The mansion was an imposing sight, even by daylight. She felt dwarfed by its size, and intimidated by the clean, severe lines, so different from the welcoming quaintness of the buildings at Ash Grove.
As she drew up to the front of the house, she saw someone standing on the steps, waiting. Her heart gave a leap even as she recognized that it wasn’t Tanner.
“What a charming surprise,” said Raven cordially, descending the steps as she dismounted. Two more security guards flanked the front door behind him, she noticed. “To what do we owe the pleasure, Miss Sumner?”
He was as Mephistophelian as ever. His eyes took her in from head to toe, and she was immediately conscious of the perspiration on her forehead and her peeling sunburned nose. She felt even more messy and unkempt in contrast to him: he was wearing a loose linen shirt and slacks (how did he manage not to be wrinkled?), and his earrings winked in the sunlight. He looked like a rock star who had found Buddhism. “I’m here to see Tristan,” she said, remembering to use his other name.
He raised his eyebrows. “I’m not sure if he’s available. Does he expect you?”
“No. Not exactly. I mean, he’ll want to see me when he knows I’m here.” She tried not to let him shake her confidence. Chin up, Joy. Look him in the eye. “Would you have one of your people let him know that I’m waiting to see him?”
“‘One of my people.’ I like that,” he said, amused. “But of course all of us here are Melisande’s people. And I think, you know, that she’d very much prefer that you not disturb her special favorite.”
“Who says I’d be disturbing him? I know he’d be glad to see me.”
“Hmm.” He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, then raised his hand and snapped his fingers. For a startled moment Joy thought the gesture was meant for her: was she supposed to sit up and beg? But then one of the security guards stepped over to them.
“Give Miss Sumner paper and a pen,” Raven told him, “and take whatever she writes upstairs to Tristan. Wait for an answer.”
Joy knew nothing she wrote would be confidential, so she wrote only, “I’m outside and I need to see you—Joy,” and handed the paper to the guard. Without a word he took it and walked into the house.
Raven lounged against one of the porch columns with his hands in his pockets, watching her. He didn’t try to make conversation. Joy stood by her bike, noticing how secure the house was. Inside every window that she could see was the red eye of an alarm mounted on the wall. There was an intercom at the front door, and while she waited there two more security guards came into view as they circled the building. Security cameras were mounted above the doors and at the corners of the building. Melisande must be really worried about invaders—or escapees.
Sooner than she would ha
ve expected, the guard returned. He made as if to pause by Raven, who waved him past.
Joy accepted the note from him. It was the same paper she had written on, but underneath her message was written in a strong hand, “Go away.” She recognized the writing from the note he had left with Jim all those months ago, but just for the hell of it she held it up where Raven could see. “I don’t suppose this is Melisande’s writing, is it?” she asked.
“No,” he said, and he was polite enough not to gloat. “It’s not.”
She chewed her lip. She was running out of options. Drawing on her theater training, she let herself sway as if about to faint. “I’m feeling kind of woozy all of a sudden,” she said breathlessly, giving him her most innocent, wide-eyed look. “Could I possibly come in out of the hot sun and have a glass of water?”
He drew his hand down over his beard as if making an effort to keep his patience. “Miss Sumner,” he said, and his tone made her feel stupid for having made an attempt at subterfuge, “you need to stop pursuing Tristan. You’ll only succeed in making an enemy of Melisande, and she is not a woman whose displeasure you should take lightly.”
The words summoned a cold spot to the pit of her stomach, but she wouldn’t let him run her off so easily. “Are you advising me, or threatening me?”
His eyes were unreadable. “I’m just telling you how it is,” he said.
There had to be a way to get around these barriers and talk to Tanner. It wasn’t like he was actually in prison. And even with prisons, sometimes there were ways.… She glanced around to make sure the security guards weren’t within earshot, and lowered her voice.
“I know you could get me in if you wanted to. If there’s a, you know, financial consideration, I’ve got some money—”
He chuckled. “Money. How touchingly naive. No, Miss Sumner, you will not seduce me with filthy lucre.” His eyes moved over her again, more leisurely this time, and the intimacy of his appraisal made her cheeks burn. “I’m curious, though: are you prepared to use other means of seduction?”
Her disgust must have shown in her face, because his lips quirked. “Ah, so there are limits to the lengths you’ll go to for the sake of your beloved. Don’t worry, you’re a little young for me anyway.” He reached out suddenly to take her by the chin, bringing his face uncomfortably close. His eyes seared into hers. “I’ll make this simple,” he hissed. His grip on her chin was strong enough to make her eyes water. “With every moment you are here on Melisande’s property, you are putting yourself, and Tristan, in greater danger. You’re not going to win this, cupcake.” He released his painful hold on her and straightened. “Now toddle off home on your bicycle like a good little girl, and don’t let me see your face again.”
The menace in his voice sent a shiver down her back. She longed to defy him. It was hateful to her that he should have the last word. But if her presence truly was endangering Tanner…
Under his piercing gaze she clambered back onto her bike. Without another word, she pedaled back to the main road. She would have to use sneakier means of contacting Tanner. The coded song was a go.
Since she was cut off from seeing Tanner, and the guardians had failed her, she devoted more time to research of her own. She needed to make sure she’d exhausted all possible sources of information. There was no telling what help one good clue might offer.
She acquainted herself with the library’s microfiche and microfilm readers so that she could look through sources that hadn’t yet been digitized. Often she was alone in the dim basement, huddled over the reader, and although she did have a moment’s nervousness about who might step out of a time slip and startle her, she soon put the thought out of her mind. She focused on learning everything she could about her enemy.
She knew already that Melisande had had several tragic relationships, as they had been widely reported by the press: her first husband had supposedly been lost at sea, and her next long-term lover died in a plane crash. There were high-profile breakups when she was suddenly seen on the arm of a different man. That was before she became more circumspect about her relationships; for the last decade and a half she had been much more rigorous about keeping her private life private, except for her protégés.
Joy looked for a pattern that would link the men, but none was obvious. Her first husband was significantly older (or at least older looking) than she; the pilot who had died when his experimental plane went down was only in his twenties. Sometimes she went for American men, sometimes foreigners, like the Australian who disappeared during an outback expedition. More recently she had been taking on the position of mentor to a younger lover, as she had with Gareth and Tanner. The pictures of her with Gareth Godwin were heartbreaking: he was so young and hopeful, obviously dazzled by both his sexy mentor and his good fortune. Joy thought of the difference in the man she had met and determined all over again not to let that fate happen to Tanner.
When she finally found the pattern, it was simpler than she had imagined. She had been jotting down the dates that Melisande’s men were reported dead or missing, and the pattern was there: every seven years, Melisande changed consorts.
Seven. And Tanner had been with Melisande slightly under two years. So he was probably in no immediate danger—unless he fell out of favor with her, such as by showing an interest in Joy or an inconvenient rebellious streak. His eighteenth birthday would bring his freedom, and then he’d be okay.
If he could stay alive until then.
The Shadow and the Rose Page 20
