Glossed and Found

by Ink, India

  Bran stayed until Auntie arrived home, with Kane in tow. He came bearing gifts—a shotgun. She reassured me that he knew how to use it. Not sure whether that made me feel any better or not, I graciously offered to fix dinner.

  “You can’t cook. You should be resting.”

  “I was going to phone for pizza,” I said, a wry grin on my face.

  “Then by all means, the kitchen is yours,” she said.

  I ordered three large pizzas, one Hawaiian style, one with sausage and mushrooms, and the third with pepperoni and extra cheese. Kane and Auntie sat at the table playing cribbage, while I lounged in the living room with a book. When the doorbell rang, Kane insisted on getting it, his shotgun right behind the door. He paid the delivery boy and locked the door firmly behind him as Auntie carried the pizzas to the table. I joined them.

  “So, can we talk about something other than the fact that Elliot’s still out there?” Kyle had called a few minutes before with the news that they’d managed to catch the serial rapist, but the Albatross had slipped the net, and they had no idea where he was.

  “Let’s talk about Thanksgiving and the holidays,” Auntie said. “I noticed your list here, and added a few things to it. We’re definitely calling in Maids Are Us tomorrow and having them thoroughly clean the house.”

  As we brainstormed plans, I tried to block out the thought that Elliot was out there somewhere, gun in hand and a grudge in his heart.

  Thanksgiving morning dawned overcast and cold, but without any rain. I’d managed to keep my nerves under control and spent Tuesday and Wednesday at the shop with Auntie, while Kane stayed at our house keeping watch. Killian had called, wanting to know if he should postpone his meetings and come back to the island early, but I told him no, that we were okay and I’d see him on Thanksgiving. He reluctantly agreed.

  By Thursday morning, there was still no sign of Elliot, and no sign of Lisa. I didn’t know which was more worrisome. Lisa had been missing since Saturday night, and the weather had been nasty. If she was in a ditch somewhere, I wondered how long she could last until help arrived.

  Bran’s reassurance that he thought she was still alive kept me hoping, though, and I broke down and told Amy what he said despite Kyle’s insistence that I keep my mouth shut. I knew Kyle was trying to ease Amy into the thought that Lisa might be dead, but that didn’t seem right. Not until we knew for sure. Without hope, what was there? Neither Amy nor I could figure out what Bran’s reference to silver might be, but it gave us something to go on.

  My alarm rang at five thirty, and I heard Auntie and Kane already stirring on the stairs. I peeked over the rail, just to make sure that it was indeed the two of them, and was rewarded with bright smiles and a cheerful “Morning, Imp! Happy Thanksgiving!”

  “I’ll be down once I’ve taken a bath,” I said. I gingerly went through my workout for the day, eschewing anything that might pull my shoulder but concentrating on leg and neck exercises. I cautiously stretched my arms, taking care not to engage any of the injured muscles to the point of pain.

  After a hot bath, I fumbled into my bra and panties and slid on a pair of black jeans and a cranberry-colored tank that was formfitting but not too tight. It was embellished with embroidered leaves of bronze and rust and was perfect for Thanksgiving. After brushing my hair, I slid on a velvet headband to keep it out of my face, slipped into a pair of loafers, then hurried downstairs.

  Auntie was stuffing the turkey while Kane was fixing breakfast. The smell of fried eggs and sputtering bacon whetted my appetite, and I planted a big kiss on the top of Auntie’s head, then a quick peck on Kane’s cheek.

  “Morning, you two,” I said, eyeing the food with the same focus the Beast gave to his dog dish every morning. “Should I feed the Menagerie?”

  “All taken care of,” Kane said. “And Trevor’s already here. He and I did a quick walk of the grounds to make sure there’s nobody out there. Can’t be certain, of course, but we took his dog Kali with us, and she’d be barking if anybody strange was hiding out there.”

  Kali was a German shepherd-chocolate Lab mix who was not only brilliant but who had been professionally trained. She made me want to get another dog, one specifically trained to keep an eye on the place. In September, we’d made the decision to fence in most of the acreage but had only gone as far as to buy the supplies. We were waiting for early spring to do the actual work, when it would be easier to see the property lines. Now, I wished we hadn’t been quite so lackadaisical about it.

  I opened the door on to the deck and wandered out to peek at the water. Restless today, she was, as always, but I didn’t smell a storm on the horizon, and it looked like it might even clear up. The wind was bracing, colder than usual and filled with salt-sea tang. I inhaled deeply. When I lived in Seattle, the smog and noise were enough to drive me nuts. I preferred the sound of the wind and water and the call of the gulls.

  As I returned to the dining room, I saw that Auntie’s hands were full of dressing and turkey innards, and Kane was wrestling breakfast onto plates. I made sure the place-mats and napkins were clean and then helped him carry the food to the table. Auntie told us to go ahead without her—she’d eat as soon as she finished stuffing the bird—and so Kane and I took our places and dug in. The bacon was maple flavored, and the eggs were perfect. I pulled out the backgammon set, and Kane and I busied ourselves with playing a couple of games over the food. I won the first, he won the second, and by the time Auntie sat down with her plate, we were well into the third.

  After breakfast, I busied myself picking up around the house. It had been awhile since we’d done a thorough cleaning, and I vacuumed and scrubbed the guest bathroom till it shone and even hauled out the duster, chasing the cats around with it and playing bat-bat games until they were so excited they rampaged into the kitchen.

  Auntie popped her head around the corner and, shaking her head, said, “Imp, would you quit riling up the natives? Delilah’s so fluffy she looks like a walking fuzz ball, and Nalu just jumped on the counter and tried to get into the food. Now, either finish dusting or put away the toy.” But I could see the smile lurking behind her stern eyes.

  The smell of baking pies filled the house with cinnamon and nutmeg and pumpkin, and in a fit of decorating frenzy, I lit every candle in the living room and dining room that were cat-proof, and started a fire in the fireplace.

  By ten AM the house was full. Kyle and Amy were there, both looking a little ragged around the edges, and Daphne, Bran’s sister. Trevor’s girlfriend had gone back East with her family for the holiday, so he joined us for the day. The Smith sisters arrived carrying a basket of goodies including homemade fudge and rum truffles.

  Killian showed an hour late and looking decidedly worried. Even though I’d insisted that I was fine, he was still wavering on going back to New York, but I quashed that idea.

  “You have to. This is the future of your business we’re talking about. I’ve got Auntie and Kane, and Kyle and Trevor . . . I’ll be okay, babe. I promise you, I’ll be careful.” We were snuggled up in my bedroom, hiding out for a little while. Kyle, Trevor, and Kane were watching football, while Auntie held court in the dining room with the women.

  Killian curled an arm around me and kissed me gently on the lips. “I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you, you know.”

  “I know,” I said softly, playing with his shirt. “Do you think you could avoid hurting my shoulder?”

  He slowly unzipped my jeans, sliding them down over my hips. As he pressed his lips to my lower stomach, he said, “I don’t think that will be a problem.” He undressed me gently, one piece of clothing at a time, and then laid me back, trailing kisses over my body, over my face.

  I leaned up on my elbows, watching as he undressed, taking in every detail. He was lean and muscular, and the hair all over his body was shockingly red. Killian had one long scar on his left thigh where he’d been hurt during a motorcycle accident when he was fifteen, and another on his upper left sh
oulder from when he was twenty. He’d gotten in a fight with a guy who had a knife. Killian may have been stabbed, but the guy with the knife lost the battle and ended up in the hospital with a broken shoulder. Killian was as good a martial arts student as me, and we sparred at least once a week.

  I pointed my stereo’s remote and flipped the switch, and Nine Inch Nails came blasting through the room. Lowering the volume so it wouldn’t disturb anybody downstairs, I leaned back and waited, breathless, as Killian hovered over me, his gaze lingering on my body with eyes that reminded me of a starving wolf staring at dinner.

  “Let me in.” Killian’s voice curled around me, making me woozy with desire. All the tension of the past few days threatened to swamp me in one giant wave, and there was only one way to break through to the other side.

  And so I opened the door.

  Killian and I took a quick shower and then dressed and joined the rest. Nobody commented on our absence, though I caught Kyle staring at me with a veiled grin. I ignored him, wanting to enjoy the day as much as I could. Not a sports fan, Killian joined the women and soon had both Auntie and the Smith sisters involved in a lively game of canasta. Amy had joined Kyle in the living room, and so I walked over to Daphne, who was staring out the window at the gloom-filled day.

  “How do you feel about Bran running off to the Amazon?” I asked.

  Daphne and Bran were twins. Their parents were British transplants and had named both of their children after literary figures. Bran’s full name was Branwell Heathcliffe Stanton, while Daphne Rebecca Stanton bore a double legacy from Daphne du Maurier. Daphne ran a bookstore and was engaged to a history professor from the UW who was currently on a university exchange over in London. When he returned, they planned on marrying, and he’d take up teaching at the Gull Harbor Community College.

  She considered my question before answering. That was one thing about Daphne—she never spoke without thinking, and when she did, you had the sense that her mind was made up about the subject.

  “I think it will suit his nature. He’s been adrift since tourist season came to a close. He missed some of it because of his broken leg, and he’s feeling antsy. I can tell.”

  She winked at me. “And then he has to get over you, of course. This should help him along. I don’t know what I’ll do if he actually wins. There won’t be any putting up with him, then.”

  I laughed. “In the first place, Bran doesn’t need to get over me, and you know it. We’re still friends, and I adore him, but we both knew there was no future in the relationship. However, I agree with you. If he wins, we’ll never hear the end of it. Want to take bets on how many episodes of the show he lasts before being voted off?”

  She let out a chuckle. “We should do it, though we can never let him know, or he’ll hold it over our heads for the rest of our lives.” Daphne gazed at the restless water as it churned, frothing at the shore. “So you haven’t found any sign of your friend, have you?”

  I shook my head. “No, and she vanished Saturday. Amy’s frantic, and I’m heartsick over it. I know she didn’t drown, Daphne. She was terrified of the water, and people just don’t act against their nature when they have that strong a phobia. There has to be some clue down there on the beach where her car was. Something to tell us what happened.”

  “I assume Chief Laughlin’s already combed the area?” she asked, but she didn’t sound all that confident.

  I stared at the ocean, wondering if we’d see any bad storms this year. Once in awhile, the water crested so high that it washed up the spit of beach and over Briarwood Drive. Moss Rose Cottage was high enough up a slope that we didn’t have to worry about getting flooded, but sometimes Auntie had trouble getting in the driveway and had to take side streets and come in through the back part of our acreage.

  “I suppose so. I think Amy wants to form a search party, but I know she’s conflicted.” I lowered my voice. “She wants to believe that Kyle is doing everything he can—and he is—but what he can do and what she thinks he can do are two different things.”

  Daphne gave me a quick, firm nod. “How long until dinner?”

  I checked with Auntie and returned to Daphne’s side. “A good two hours or so. Why?”

  “I was thinking that you and I might go down to the beach and have a look around. I don’t have Bran’s gifts, but I have some semblance of second sight. And maybe we’ll find something that the police missed.”

  I jumped at the chance. At least we’d be doing something, and I couldn’t stomach sitting through a football game or another card game right now. Auntie wasn’t happy that I was going out, but I took my cell and told her that I’d call every half hour to let her know that Elliot hadn’t got hold of me.

  As Daphne and I headed to the door, Amy suddenly appeared behind me. “I heard you’re going down to the beach. I want to go.”

  As we gathered our coats and headed out to Daphne’s car, I caught Kyle staring at us with an unreadable look. I gazed back at him, willing him to wish us good luck. He might believe that Lisa had drowned, but he couldn’t prove it. And until he did, we had to believe there was still hope.

  The landing at Lookout Pier was soaked through from the cresting waves, and I stood against the rail, staring out over the open water. Where was Lisa? Where had she gone? There was no sign of a weak railing, or that anybody had broken through any part of the rail. Add to that, the railing was a good four feet high. You just didn’t fall over something like that without doing something stupid, like climbing up to sit on the edge. Granted, there was the open spot the jet skiers used to get aboard their machines, but that just strengthened my conviction that Lisa hadn’t even considered walking out here.

  I wandered back to Daphne, who was looking around the beach, and Amy, who was searching the parking lot where Lisa’s car had been found. Shading my eyes, I gazed at the surrounding area. Houses lined the cliffs that overlooked the inlet and Lookout Pier. Had somebody in one of those houses seen something? Had Kyle even checked? Suddenly, Amy gave a shout. Daphne and I ran over to her side.

  She was holding a silver bracelet. “Silver!” she said, looking at me meaningfully. “You said your friend mentioned something about silver. This was Lisa’s.”

  It was an allergy alert bracelet. I snapped my fingers. “Lisa does wear one of those, doesn’t she?”

  “She’s allergic to bees, and she always carries an epinephrine pen and wears her medic alert just in case she’s stung by a wayward bee and goes into anaphylactic shock,” Amy said.

  Sure enough, as we turned the bracelet over, we saw that it was engraved with the words “Lisa Tremont, Bee Allergy.” The catch looked like it had been broken, as if the bracelet caught on something and had been abruptly yanked off of Lisa’s wrist.

  “Where did you find this?” I asked.

  Amy pointed to the patch of weeds we were standing next to. Daphne fell to her knees, and we joined her, combing the area. I was looking at one of the long logs used to indicate the end of the parking space, when I caught a glimpse of something shiny. Cautiously, I reached beneath the log and pulled out a sample-sized bottle of hair spray. I was pretty certain it was Lisa’s brand.

  As I stared at the bottle, I realized that we were directly in front of where we’d found her car. The hair spray could have easily rolled under the log if she’d dropped it while standing beside her car. Trying to make sense of everything, I pulled out my phone and called Kyle. If Lisa had drowned, what were her bracelet and hair spray doing in the parking lot?

  Chapter Twelve

  Kyle showed up, along with Killian and Kane. The three Ks I thought with a nervous giggle. For some reason, finding proof that Lisa had stood right here, next to her car, brought everything home. She hadn’t just gone for a walk on the pier. Something had tugged on the bracelet hard enough to rip it from her arm. She had to know it had been yanked off, and she’d never just ignore the loss of it—which meant something prevented her from retrieving it.

  I surveyed t
he area. My gaze went, once again, to the houses on the hill. Somebody up there surely had seen something. I walked over to Kyle, who was talking in low tones to Amy, and tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Who lives up there? Do you know?”

  Kyle glanced up at the row of mansions and expensive town houses. “In answer to your unspoken question, no, we haven’t questioned people yet. That’s Millionaires Row, if you didn’t know it. Informally, of course. Most of the people who own those homes are so rich they make your aunt look middle class. And most of them were at the dance Saturday night, including Annabel Mason, who owns the big house in the center of the bunch.”

  Annabel Mason again. I stared at the house he pointed to. Mansion truly described the place. It was at least four stories high and looked like a modern-day Parthenon from here, made from gleaming white stone. I had the feeling that around front, there would be Grecian pillars supporting the roof of a portico.