Oberon Boxed Set (Books 1-3) Welcome to Oberon

by P. G. Forte

  “Maybe there’s a way you could ask her. You know, through a psychic,” Heather suggested. “Always plenty of those around here.”

  Scout shook her head. “Wishful thinking.”

  “Now, why do you say that?” Heather demanded. “I heard about the story you told Marsha yesterday. About the accident you had the other day? After something like that, I should think you would at least admit the possibility.”

  “Do you believe it’s possible?”

  Heather smiled wryly. “Oh, yes. Not that I’ve had much personal experience, but Ginny has had entirely too many visits from relatives who have passed over. Of course, it’s not always easy to contact them, from what I understand. Excessive emotions can be a problem when you’re trying to communicate. If you’re missing the person too much, that can be a barrier.”

  Scout picked at her pâté for a minute with her fork. “I think I got over missing both Caroline and Lisa a long, long time ago. And anyway, if you don’t think they’re really gone, why would you miss them?”

  She looked up again to find Ginny staring at her pityingly. “If you loved someone, but knew you would never see that person again for the rest of your life, would you be content with just knowing that she, or he, was alive?” Ginny asked softly. “Would that little bit of information be enough to keep you from missing them, or from feeling any sadness over their continued absence?”

  Never to see someone you loved, ever again? Like her and Nick, perhaps? Scout swallowed hard, hoping to dislodge the lump that had risen in her throat. “I don’t know. But I think, even if you never actually did it, just knowing the possibility for contact existed, and that the other person was also thinking of you... I think that would be wonderful.”

  Ginny smiled again, an even sadder smile than before. “Well, if that’s true, then I envy you. But just the same, I really do think you should consider giving it a try. I’m sure, from everything Marsha has told us, you wouldn’t have any problems making contact.

  “But I am still confused about one thing. Why do you think it was your fault your sister left home?”

  Scout laughed. “Oh, everyone agreed on that point. She even wrote to Lucy after she left, telling her so.”

  “She contacted Lucy, but not her mother? Doesn’t that seem strange to you?” Ginny mused, breaking off to pick up the check the waitress had placed on the table. “Oh, no, dear.” She smiled at Scout, when she saw her reaching for her bag. “It’s our treat. After all, we invited you.”

  “Oh. Thank you,” Scout answered. “But really, I can’t—”

  “Nonsense,” Heather assured her. “We’ll talk about how much reading you do, and what books you’d like to see us stock, and write it off as a business lunch. You’re doing us a favor.” Her blue eyes twinkled mischievously. “But before we get to that, you have to satisfy our curiosity. What did your sister say in this mysterious letter?”

  Scout shrugged. “Oh, it was just typical Lisa: ‘Dear Lucy, Scout’s a bitch. I’m leaving now. Gotta make them pay for what they did. Talk to you later. Yadda, yadda, yadda.’ Just like a thousand other notes she’d written to Lucy or Marsha – or to me, even – during class, or whatever. That’s why I’m sure something must have happened to her. She was just too matter-of-fact about it. You know, pissed off and all, but not jumping-off-a-cliff crazy.”

  Heather looked at her thoughtfully. “Well, you know, one thing you should keep in mind... you were both just kids at the time. Maybe you should cut yourself a little slack?”

  “Yeah well, I guess that’s a whole lot easier said than done,” Scout sighed. “Because I came back to town with the idea that I was going to do just that. But so far, it hasn’t exactly worked out that way.”

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  * * * *

  Chapter Fifteen

  * * * *

  This time, Nick made himself wait until nightfall before he drove back to Scout’s house. But unlike the night before, when the lower floor had blazed with light, tonight the house was dark and looked deserted.

  Still, he wasn’t overly worried. He’d checked around at the local auto body shops, and learned that Scout’s car had been brought in that morning for repairs. At best guess, it would be several days before it was fixed. The mechanic had even agreed to notify him before he released the car.

  It wasn’t much, but at least this time she wouldn’t be able to slip away without his knowing.

  She hadn’t left town. So where the hell was she? He guessed he’d just have to wait and see, wouldn’t he? Nothing new about that. Over the years he’d had plenty of time to practice waiting for her. By now, he guessed he’d gotten pretty good at it. And in any case, sitting around in his car wasn’t so different from sitting around a campfire, or inside a tent. And that’s precisely what he would have been doing right now, if she hadn’t come back to town, or—

  He was hit with a sudden, suffocating sense of anxiety. That’s what he’d be doing if he hadn’t happened to learn that she was in town.

  Which meant – Jesus Christ. She might have come to town and gone away again, any number of times, without his ever knowing about it.

  The idea filled him with dread. To have come that close and never to have known it? How many times in the last twenty years might that have happened? How many times might he have already missed seeing her?

  He and Lucy really needed to sit down and have a little talk about this. He was not a child, no matter that he was acting like one. He couldn’t have his relatives making decisions like this for him. Disaster or no, he was walking into this with his eyes wide open. He had every right to mess his life up any way he wanted.

  * * *

  Marsha sat in front of her altar trying to clear her mind, but the clarity she sought continued to elude her. Tonight she had no sense of being guided. She was unable to connect with Spirit.

  It was an uncomfortable, empty feeling, and not one she felt often. She had learned not to ignore it when it happened, though, because time and again it had proven to be a reliable indicator that something in her life was severely out of balance.

  Unfortunately, it also usually prevented her from seeing clearly where the problem was.

  That was not the case this time, however. This time, she had a pretty good idea where the problem lay.

  She tried again and again to clear her mind, to establish a connection, but it was no use. With a sense of profound frustration, she extinguished the candles and put away her tools. She had not accomplished any of the things she’d set out to do. She would have to find another way to deal with her problem.

  * * *

  Lucy listened to the phone as it rang and rang and rang some more. Where the hell was Robyn? She had half a mind to drive over there and see for herself, but the idea of appealing to Scout for information was not one she relished. Besides... what if she really had gone crazy, after all?

  What were you supposed to do anyway if you suspected that someone was missing? Or had maybe been hurt? Without stopping to think, she hit the button that would automatically dial her cousin’s number. Again, the phone rang and rang with no answer. When his machine picked up, she thought about leaving a message, but at the last moment changed her mind.

  What the hell was she thinking? The last thing she wanted was to get Nick involved in anything to do with Scout. Not unless she absolutely had to.

  Oh, hell. She was overreacting again. She had to be. This couldn’t be happening! If only Dan were here. He was always so calm and rational; always teasing her for being such a drama queen. Always ready to distract her from whatever was worrying her. But tonight she couldn’t even call him. He’d taken his cell phone with him, but she knew from experience that reception was impossible in the canyon where they were camped. She couldn’t reach him or her brother unless she drove all the way out there. And now, shit, she couldn’t reach Nick, either.

  Men. You just couldn’t count on them either to be there when you needed them, or to keep themselves out of trouble whi
le they were gone.

  Where could Nick be at this hour? Miles away from Scout, she hoped. But he was such an idiot, he probably thought he could handle getting involved with her again.

  For one more, brief moment she reconsidered calling Scout, but what would she say? Instead, she settled for dialing Robyn’s number yet again. Once again, there was no answer. Solitude was all very well and good, she thought angrily, but this was getting ridiculous!

  * * *

  Absolutely ridiculous! Glenn fumed. Didn’t that cop have a home to go to? Every time he’d tried to see Scout today, he’d found the cop was there before him – either skulking around the house itself, or staked out in his car.

  And just what was up with that crap, anyway?

  Oh, the hell with it. He’d just come back tomorrow. His business with Scout had waited this long, it could wait a little longer. Sometimes the waiting only made things better. That cop couldn’t stay there forever. Sooner or later, he’d have to go home. And then it would be Glenn’s turn. Again.

  * * *

  The hell with it, Scout thought sleepily. She’d been up in the attic long enough, she was stiff from sitting on the hard, dusty floor, and although she had gone through every scrap of paper in Caroline’s files a dozen times, she wasn’t the slightest bit closer to finding any answers.

  Caroline had newspaper clippings that spanned several months. Everything from Ms. Burnett’s murder to Marsha’s car accident had been painstakingly documented. Just as Glenn had suggested, there had been no shortage of rumor and innuendo. But wherever Lisa had gone, whatever had happened to her, she – or someone else – had done a damn good job of covering her tracks.

  Or maybe she was just too tired to see the answers? She’d always heard that clarity came with sleep. Maybe she should try to close her eyes and forget about everything. Maybe in the morning it would all be clear.

  Yeah, right. Like that had ever worked for her before.

  She pushed her hair back from her face, rubbed her tired eyes. What if she never found answers? What if she only found more questions? How long could Caroline expect her to keep looking?

  And, speaking of questions, here was a good one. What the hell had happened to Robyn? And to her dog? She couldn’t believe how much she missed the damned mutt. The cats were all well and good, and were attending to her every move in a highly flattering way. But still, it wasn’t the same.

  Exhausted, she crept down from the attic and into her bedroom. She heard the phone ringing again in Robyn’s room, and she continued to ignore it. What would she have to say to anyone calling for Robyn?

  She got into bed feeling lonely and miserable. She hadn’t had the stupid dog for even one week, and already she couldn’t remember what her life was like without it. You’re pathetic, she told herself, as she reached up and turned off the lamp on her bedside table. Totally pathetic. You do not need a dog. You do not need a housemate. You do not need anything.

  Except, maybe, to get the hell out of Oberon.

  * * *

  Nick stirred in his seat. One of the lights in the house had gone on. An upstairs light, probably in one of the bedrooms. He checked his watch. Damn, he had no idea it was so late. Either he’d missed her going in, which he didn’t think was possible, or else she’d been in the house the whole time – sitting in near total darkness, apparently – and he hadn’t even known it.

  Pathetic. That was the only word to describe this evening’s performance. So, what the hell should he do now? Maybe he should go and ring the bell again, he thought, feeling giddy with exhaustion and disgust. Yeah, that was good. That would work. He’d just tell her that he’d seen the light go on and realized she was probably about to go to bed. But he hadn’t seen her in twenty years so couldn’t he please come in?

  Yeah, that would be brilliant, all right. Maybe he should just go right ahead and ask if he could climb into bed with her while he was at it. That was what he really wanted, wasn’t it? To take up where they’d left off all those years ago. To finally settle the craving that had tormented him for close to forever, and kept him awake more nights than he cared to count.

  He watched the bedroom light go off again, and was appalled when he actually found himself reaching for the door handle.

  Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! This was no way for a grown man to behave. He started the engine. It was time he took a good, long, hard look at just what the hell he was doing. He needed a plan. He was not coming back here until he had one. Something rational. Something logical. Something faintly mature, with maybe a tiny scrap of dignity attached to it. He snapped on his lights and roared off into the night.

  * * *

  Scout heard the sound of a car engine start up on the street outside, and a moment later, heard it peel away from the curb. Fast. Way faster than usual. Someone’s in a hurry, she thought drowsily.

  The sounds stirred up memories of other times. Times she’d rather not think about right now. But oh, she wished it could be her out there, racing away through the dark, deserted streets of Oberon. Leaving this house and all its memories far behind her.

  Take me with you, she wanted to whisper to the unknown driver. Take me away from here.

  Instead, she did the next best thing. She focused on the dwindling sound of the engine and allowed her attention to travel as far as it could with it. Out into the darkness, into the night. The sounds carried her far, far away. Away from her lonely room and into a deep and dreamless sleep.

  The dreams would come later, she knew, but for right now there was only the glow of streetlights advancing and retreating around her mind. The rush of the engine was loud in her thoughts, and the remembered feel of wind in her hair and of slick leather seats beneath her, so vivid. She could practically smell the scent of the leather, as it mingled with tobacco, and wildflowers and blackberry wine.

  All the sights and sounds of an imaginary road were there for her, miles and miles of it, reeling endlessly out of her memory. Carrying her into tomorrow.

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  * * * *

  Chapter Sixteen

  * * * *

  Marsha and Celeste were in the teashop unpacking a shipment of whimsical mugs when Lucy called at about eleven o’clock the next morning.

  “I won’t be stopping by today after all,” she began without preamble as soon as Marsha picked up the phone. “We’re short-handed at the nursery. So much for my couple of days off, huh?”

  “Oh, Luce, that’s too bad,” Marsha murmured, smiling at the purple and turquoise spotted gargoyle that scowled at her from the bottom of a pea green mug. “So, what happened?”

  Lucy sighed gustily. “Nothing terribly worrisome, I’m sure. Just Robyn’s gone AWOL. And all I know is, I spent most of Monday trying to convince her that Scout was most likely not a crazed killer. D’you think maybe I was wrong about that?”

  “You want to pass that one by me again?” The next mug was even better. Sunshine yellow with orange and black striped newts.

  “No, never mind.” Lucy sighed again. “She was just really spooked, is all. She kept trying to tell me Scout was acting weird, and I of course thought, ‘So what else is new?’ But then she didn’t show up for work yesterday or today. And there’s no answer on her phone. So, what do you think, Marsh? You got any feelings about this?”

  What do I think? I think this conversation is giving me a headache, that’s what. “She was spooked about Scout?” Marsha carried the phone and two of the new mugs over to the serving counter. “That seems kind of strange.”

  “Oh, you know how it is. I figure she’d seen one too many horror flicks lately. She kept going on and on about axe murderers and knives and stuff. Of course I didn’t take her seriously. But honestly, Marsha, I don’t know why not. I should know better than to put anything past that woman. Didn’t I tell you this would end badly?”

  “Don’t you think you might be overreacting just a little bit, Lucy? But listen, if you really think Robyn is missing, you should call the cops.”


  “Oh, yeah. Great idea, Marsha. Shit, that’s just what I wanna do,” Lucy muttered. “Give Nick a legitimate reason to see Scout? No fucking way.”

  “Okay,” Marsha said as she filled two tea infusers; one with jasmine tea, the other with a feverfew-willow bark blend. “Now you’ve really lost me. What does your cousin have to do with Scout?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Forget it. Look, if she’s really missing, then you’re right, I’ll have to call the police. But until I know for sure...”

  “Well, you do what you think is best. I don’t think Scout’s a danger to anyone. Really. But I do have to get back to work now. We’ll talk later, okay?”

  “Yep. Just, if you see Scout, ask her if she knows what’s up with Robyn. Oh, and Marsha? If you do see her, better watch your back. You never know. Ciao.”

  “Yeah. Ciao, yourself,” Marsha muttered as she hung up the phone. What the heck was that all about? She put the infusers into the gargoyle mugs, filled both mugs with boiling water and carried them back over to the shelves where Celeste had taken over arranging the new merchandise.

  “How’s Lucy?” Celeste asked as Marsha handed her the mug of jasmine tea. “Is she enjoying her vacation?”

  “Nope. One of the nursery staff is missing so she had to take over for her. You know the one I mean. Robyn Smith.” Marsha’s voice was casual, but her eyes were watching Celeste carefully. She saw the shudder of surprise as it ran through her friend. “Still don’t want to talk about it?”

  Celeste hesitated for a moment before shaking her head. “No. But... did Lucy say anything about Scout? Or maybe her dog?”

  “What about the dog?” Marsha asked, nearly choking on her tea.

  “Heather and Ginny ran into Scout yesterday. Apparently, she said something about Robyn having gone off with her dog.”

  A chill spread down Marsha’s spine. “Scout didn’t know where Robyn was either?”