by P. G. Forte
“I wanted to talk to you, cuz,” Lucy answered, advancing into the room. She dangled a large paper bag temptingly in front of him. “And, seeing as I know you’ve got a bad habit of skipping lunch when you get busy, I thought I’d do the Good Samaritan number and bring you something to eat.”
There was an odd, speculative gleam in her eyes, which added to Nick’s uneasiness. She was up to something, too – ust as Paige had been – but she looked a little too pleasant for it to have anything to do with more rumors about him and Scout.
“Thanks, Luce. That’s real nice of you, but I’ve got a lot of work to do this afternoon, so—”
“Mmm. So I’ve heard.” His cousin sat down and began taking sandwiches and drinks out of the bag. “You know, Nick, there are those of us... here, take these... who think you may have been working a little too hard this week. Or maybe just a little too fast. What do you think?”
“What do I think? I think I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re getting at here. Is this about the camping trip, again? I’m sorry I had to bail, but like I told Dan and Joey—”
An exasperated frown appeared on Lucy’s face. “Oh, cut the crap, Nick. You know as well as I do what I’m here about. And I’m not leaving ‘til you tell me. So quit stalling”
“Lucy, I swear. I’m clueless. Why don’t you just tell me what it is you want?” And get it over with.
Her eyes widened. “Isn’t it obvious? I want to know what you think you’re doing, is what.”
Obvious. Right. Maybe one of these days she’d get around to saying something that actually made sense. “What I’m doing right now? I don’t know, Luce. Working, maybe?”
“So I see.” Lucy arched one brow at him and bit into her sandwich. She looked at him thoughtfully as she chewed. “What gives, anyway? You look like shit today.”
“Gee, thanks, cuz. It’s always nice to see you, too.”
“What’s wrong? You’re not gonna eat your sandwich?”
“You know, you might want to watch that. You’re sounding more like my mother all the time,” he muttered, but he unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite. “Except she doesn’t say shit nearly as much as you do. This is very good, by the way. Thanks.”
Lucy regarded him curiously. “You know, I kind of expected to find you in a better mood.”
“Really? Why is that?”
“Well, I mean, I thought after—” She stopped mid-sentence, as if another thought had struck her, and not a particularly pleasant one at that, to judge by her expression. “Damn, I was so sure. But if it’s not you, then who is we?”
Clear as mud. He sighed. “Lucy? Am I ever going to find out what this is all about?
“No.” Lucy shook her head. “No, it’s nothing. Forget it. I was just worried about you, but I can see you’re fine. A little grouchy, but otherwise intact.”
She got up, and started gathering her things. “You know, I should just go now. I’m sorry I bothered you, Nick.”
“Great. Well, I’m glad we got that cleared up.” He chewed on his sandwich in obstinate silence, watching as Lucy packed things back into her bag, biting back the curiosity that almost had him asking her to sit back down. He had no time for that. Not today.
“I just cannot believe this,” Lucy muttered. “What the heck is Scout up to now?”
Oh, Christ. If he were smart he’d keep his mouth shut. But he had to ask, didn’t he? “What about Scout?” Nick let his head fall back against his chair. He pressed hard on his temples, where he could feel a headache just beginning. Shit. Here it comes.
“Oh, it’s nothing, really. I was just trying to think – but she couldn’t be back with Glenn, could she? That wouldn’t make any sense.”
“What?” He sat up, startled. All thoughts of a headache vanishing.
She couldn’t be. His mind reeled in shock. She wouldn’t. Surely, she wouldn’t – not after last night? Damn it, was that why she wasn’t answering her phone? Images formed in his mind and his insides turned to ice. Lucy regarded him with wary surprise.
“Lucy,” he said with ominous quiet. “What do you know? Start talking. Now!”
“Jeez, Nick, chill out. I don’t know anything for certain. It’s just that I was talking to her at the teashop this morning, and she was, you know, in a really good mood. Totally spacey and weird, of course, but... well, okay, I guess, because of some things she said the other night, Marsha and I thought—”
“What time?”
“Huh?”
“Time, Lucy! What time did you see her there?”
“I don’t know. Jeez. Stop yelling, already! It was early. We’d just opened.”
“You’re sure?”
“About its being early? Yeah, I’m sure. She got there before I did. Why?”
Nick breathed a deep sigh of relief as his world settled back into place.
Good. Okay. So that’s why she wasn’t answering the phone. She would have to be home to answer the phone there now, wouldn’t she?
And she would’ve had to leave shortly after he had to get downtown as early as that. She wouldn’t have had time to see... anyone else... beforehand.
He began to laugh, quietly. Jeez, what the hell was the matter with him? Of course she wasn’t seeing anyone else.
“Nick?” Lucy was still gazing warily at him.
“Never mind, Lucy. It’s nothing.” But he couldn’t resist asking. “So, she, um... she seemed like she was in a pretty good mood, you said?”
“Pretty good? Jeez, did I say anything about pretty good? No, Nick. I’m talking mega-blissed out here. I don’t know what the hell happened, but I’m telling you, the woman could’ve made it to the moon and back without any spacecraft at all.” Her eyes narrowed – suspicious once again. “Oh, Jesus. Why do I get the feeling that this is not exactly coming as a surprise to you?”
Nick tried to hide the sheepish grin that spread across his face, but it was no use.
“Oh. My. God,” Lucy uttered in tones of disgust. “Nick, are you out of your fucking mind?”
“No. But that’s no thanks to you,” he retorted, trying to invest some sternness into his voice, but failing.
Lucy shook her head. “Shit. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Yeah. Me, too. Listen, sit back down a minute. I want to ask you something. Did you ever have any reason to suspect that Lisa Larson didn’t run away?”
“No. Of course not. Why?”
“Well, what about this boyfriend of hers. Would she have really been that upset about his behavior?”
Lucy plopped back down into the chair and fixed him with an incredulous look. “Aww, gee Nick, I don’t know.” He winced at the sardonic sweetness of her tone. “Do I think Lisa would have gotten upset over a little thing like Glenn and Scout sleeping together? Hmm, let’s think about that, shall we? It seems to me you were getting pretty hot there yourself not more than a minute ago, when I mentioned the exact same possibility to you.”
“Never mind that.” He shook his head. “What I’m saying is, it sounds like it wasn’t exactly the first time this had happened.”
“Huh!” Lucy’s smile turned even more incredulous. “And you know, that’s really funny, too. Because I thought that was just the point I was making. But yeah, Glenn was never what you’d call amazingly faithful. Still, this time was maybe a little different. It being her sister, and all.”
“But would she have been upset enough to leave home over it?”
Lucy sighed. “I don’t know, Nick. Maybe not just because of that. But there were a lot of other things going on then, too, you know. And, anyway you want to look at it, it was still mostly Scout’s fault. No matter what she wants to think.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why? Is that how she got around you this time? The old more-sinned-against-than- sinning routine? Give me a fucking break, Nick. I thought you had more sense than that.”
“Thanks for your vote of confidence. Anyway, the one thing has nothing to do with the other.”
&nb
sp; “Oh, yeah? So what’s it all about, then? ‘Cause I had to go over this exact same shit with Scout the other night, too. Where’s the mystery here, Nick? Teenagers get worked up over nothing, or next to nothing, and run away every damn day, don’t they?”
“I know. I’m just trying to figure out if maybe she didn’t run away. And if there’s maybe a pattern here. Between her and Robyn Smith.”
“A pattern?” Lucy frowned. “Why? Do you know any more about Robyn? Did you find something out?”
“Not really. But I do think there’s a pretty good chance she’s dead. That she was probably killed.”
“Oh my God. But why? What do you know that you’re not telling me? And – wait a minute, are you saying that maybe the same person killed both of them?”
“It’s possible, isn’t it?”
“I don’t get it. That was twenty years ago. Where’s the connection? Omigod.” Lucy’s face grew pale, and he knew she had made the same connection he had. When she spoke again, her voice was barely a whisper. “Oh, my God, Nick. You can’t possibly be thinking – You’re not serious, are you?”
“Lucy, I am not saying or thinking anything right now. I’m just brainstorming.”
“Look, I know I haven’t exactly been Scout’s biggest fan, but if you’re thinking she’s some kind of half-crazed serial killer – Oh, shit.” She began to laugh.
“Lucy, I didn’t say—”
“And you’re sleeping with her? Omigod. Nick! You are so fucked up!”
“Lucy. Listen to me. I don’t—”
“No, Nick, you listen to me. That is just so crazy. Scout might be a lot of things, but I honestly don’t believe she’s a cold-blooded killer. Although, I gotta tell you, it’s scaring the shit out of me that I’m having this same conversation twice in one week. Talk about déjà vu. But Jesus, I can’t believe that you – you, of all people – can sit there and even think about anything so heinous.”
She shook her head as if to clear it. “I’ll tell you one thing, cuz. They may have had their problems, but Scout would no more have killed Lisa than I would.”
“Not even if it was some kind of accident?”
“Oh, Christ. What kind of accident could there have been? And what then? Did Robyn have an accident, too? Or no, let me guess. Maybe Scout buried Lisa’s body in the backyard, but then the dog dug it up. And Robyn found it. So then she had to kill Robyn. And then maybe she killed the dog! That’s brilliant. Why didn’t anybody ever think of this before? All you have to do now is dig up the freakin’ rose garden. That’s where the bodies are buried, Nick. It’s gotta be!”
Nick sighed. “All right, look, I know Scout didn’t kill anyone. Got that? I’m just trying to make sense of things.”
“Well, good. Because it’s just about the crappiest idea I’ve ever heard. I mean, after listening to her the other night, and seeing the way she looked this morning, and then to come here, and listen to you talk about—”
“It’s okay, Lucy. You can calm down now.”
“Maybe I don’t want to calm down, damn it!” she said, her eyes flashing angrily.
“Well, fine. But then maybe you can leave. Because I’ve got work to do, and this isn’t helping any.”
“Fine. Go work, then.” Lucy got to her feet. “But let me just say this. You think there’s a pattern involving women disappearing from Scout’s house and being killed? Well okay, maybe there is one. But shit, what makes you think she won’t be the next one to disappear?
He scrubbed his hand over his face. “Believe me, I’ve thought about it. But she doesn’t seem to be in any immediate danger at the moment, so—”
“No danger? What about that car accident she was in earlier this week? And I know she said something the other day about a gas leak, and a broken window in the basement, or maybe it was something to do with the stairs? I wasn’t really listening, but—”
“What?” Nick felt his chest tighten. “Lucy... Jesus, why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”
She glared at him, exasperated. “Because I didn’t know it was important before.”
The phone on his desk rang and Nick answered it. Lucy saw the color leave his face. She watched as her cousin sank slowly back into his chair and began taking urgent notes, his face intent, grave, hopeless.
Lucy didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone look so completely drained of energy.
“What is it?” she asked, as soon as he hung up the phone. “What’s happened?”
“Celeste Greene was attacked in her home last night,” Nick said in a voice as devoid of emotion as his face had become. “They’ve taken her to the hospital, but it doesn’t look good.”
Lucy’s heart skipped several beats. “Oh, my God, Nick. Marsha and Scout were going over to her house to look for her.”
“Yeah, well,” he shook his head, his eyes bleak. “Well, it looks like they found her now, doesn’t it?”
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* * * *
Chapter Twenty Seven
* * * *
The clatter of hospital noises washed over Marsha, but she didn’t hear them. Though her body sat still and erect on the thinly padded vinyl chair in the waiting room, her spirit was on a journey. Far removed from the reality her body occupied, it moved through a gray, mist-enshrouded landscape in search of guidance. She knew there were answers here somewhere, and she knew she would find them. With an inner eyesight far keener than the one her body possessed, she would hunt down the knowledge she needed.
She would fix this. She had to.
Her power animal had kept pace at her side; now it paused and looked at her, its eyes filled with compassion. Marsha turned to it impatiently. “We have to keep going. Why have you stopped?”
“You know why.” The thought formed in her mind, wrapped in loving support, but all the same, implacable in its opposition. “You carry too many emotions to continue with this journey.”
Marsha was conscious of the anger and panic that whirled around inside her. She knew it was dangerous, and her knowledge of the risks she was running only seemed to increase her fear. Her spirit hesitated, sensing the wisdom in not continuing. But no! She refused to give up. She had to set things right.
“No. I’m not stopping. I can’t. I want to go on.”
Her companion would not be moved.
“Then how?” Marsha asked at last. “If not like this, how?”
“You need to accept what has happened, what you cannot change.”
“And if I can’t? Or if I don’t want to accept it?”
“Then your interference will probably only serve to make things worse.”
Interference? She wasn’t interfering, damn it. She was fixing things. Isn’t that what a healer was supposed to do? Isn’t that what she was supposed to be? “There has to be some way to solve this problem. What’s the answer?”
“You know the answer.”
She thought about that for a moment, and realized she did.
“Yes,” she sighed in grudging acceptance. “All right. I’ll stop. For now.”
Her spirit retraced the path it had taken, spiraling back to that place where her body waited. Guided by the steady rhythm of the egg-shaped rattle she clutched in one hand while the soul-catching crystal she would not be using – not this night, possibly not ever again – rested lightly in the other.
Marsha opened her eyes just as Lucy and Nick came into view. By the time they reached her side, she had composed herself. Both rattle and crystal were back in the embroidered canvas shoulder bag at her side. Her anger, and the knowledge of what she must do, were carefully concealed behind a face that showed only her grief.
“Oh, God, Marsha,” Lucy sat down beside her and embraced her. “What’s going on? How’s Celeste?”
“She’s in a coma, Luce. She’s still alive, but I don’t think she’s coming back.”
“I can’t believe it. I just – Was it a burglary? How did this happen?”
“It was murder,” Marsha said as
her eyes filled with tears. “But he, or maybe she, got sloppy, and didn’t take the time to finish the job.”
“Murder!” Lucy stared, open-mouthed. “Here? In Oberon? But... oh my God, that doesn’t make any sense. Why would anyone want to murder Celeste? I mean, of all people!”
Marsha was silent for a moment. How much to say? That was always the question, wasn’t it? With every reading, every consultation. Really, when you came down to it, every conversation was built word by word on what to say and what to leave unsaid. There was so much that she didn’t want to say just now. But a certain amount of the right information might be helpful.
“She’d been strangled,” she said at last, hardly able to get the words past her lips, feeling again the shock she had felt earlier.
The muscles tightened at the corners of Nick’s mouth and she could tell he’d made some kind of connection. But whether she had reinforced something he had already suspected, or given him something new to think about, she couldn’t tell. In any case, what she really needed was to talk to Lucy. Alone. She wanted Nick to leave, but... oh, hell. The way things had been going so wrong lately, maybe that would be another mistake? Marsha found herself second-guessing all her decisions tonight. ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer’ might not be the best policy in this particular case.
But on the other hand, maybe it was.
Either way, there was a certain amount of risk involved. She’d just have to deal with the results of her actions, whatever those might be, tomorrow. Tonight, she had other things to do. She needed to gather her materials. And she needed to talk to Lucy. And she needed Scout kept safe and preoccupied. She took a deep, deep breath and smiled at them both.
“You look worried, Nick,” Marsha said, very quietly.
Nick started as his train of thought was abruptly derailed. Something in her appearance – or maybe it was something in her tone – had set his adrenaline running again. He felt a new and pressing sense of urgency take hold.
