The Future Scrolls

by Fern Michaels

  Eugene clutched her arm and pushed her away from his portable typewriter. “Cool it. . . .”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? That I’m not supposed to mind it that you’ve taken the scrolls and you’re going to cheat me?”

  Eugene bent to retrieve a fallen piece of paper, his back to Valerie. “You know, Val, I worry about you.”

  Uncontrollable rage rushed through Valerie. She bent over and grasped the typewriter case by the handle. Just as Eugene was straightening himself, she brought the case into a full swing aiming for his head, striking him in the temple.

  Eugene faltered, stumbling toward her, an expression of stunned surprise on his twisted, painracked features. Valerie calmly placed the case under the table and reached out to Eugene. “You should know better than to mess with me, Eugene.” Before she could touch him, he crumpled into a heap on the floor before the sofa.

  Fifteen

  Dani switched off the late evening news and watched the small dot of light fade into oblivion. Sighing wearily, she added another log to the dying flames. As an afterthought, she threw in a handful of cones and watched the fire leap and dance. There would be no sleep for her tonight.

  Wearily, she got up from her comfortable reclining position on the deep sofa and looked out of the huge bay window. She forced herself to stare—unblinking—at the swirling rain. Quickly, before she could change her mind, she threw open the huge oak door and stepped out onto the wide porch. Only the heavy aluminum awning shielded her from the lashing storm. The tall girl watched in horror as lightning withered and snaked its way across the Cimmerian darkness. The mammoth eighty-foot tulip tree in the front yard dipped and swayed crazily in the heavy wind. Shivering, she clasped her arms around her and walked back into the house. Carefully, she locked the door and slid the chain. She made her way slowly to the tidy kitchen to check the lock on the back door, and fastened it. Turning off the light and switching the small night-light over the sink to “on,” she sat down in the semidarkness.

  I feel like a cat on a hot griddle, Dani thought gloomily. I wonder if all mothers feel this. “I doubt it,” she murmured. They would hardly be in the position Alex had placed her in. A feeling of gloom settled over her like a mantle. “God, I have to shake this feeling. I need a drink,” she said aloud to the empty kitchen.

  “What you need, Dani, old girl, is not one but two drinks,” she continued to talk to herself. Setting the drink on the coffee table, she walked on tiptoe into Maria’s room to check the child. The small night-light bathed the room in a faint, dim orange glow. Adjusting her eyes to the neardarkness, she missed the wide-eyed stare of the child. Just as her own eyes sought the small form in the trundle bed, the child’s eyes squeezed shut. Softly, Dani tiptoed from the room.

  Maria lay in the warm softness and cuddled Bismarck to her chest. She’s upset, the child thought wretchedly. Dani was always in bed by midnight. She looked at the small clock: one-ten. Something was wrong. It must have something to do with her father. She stared at the ceiling, a sick feeling settling in her stomach. For the first time since coming to this country, she wished she were back home in her own bed.

  In the living room, Dani added another log to the fire. She jumped backward as a shower of sparks spurted over the hearth. Like a kaleidoscope, she thought tiredly. Making still another nightcap, she deliberately added more gin than the drink called for. The hell with moderation, she thought nastily. She took a mighty gulp of the tart drink and suddenly stamped her foot. Damn, damn, damn! “Damn Alexander Renaldo Mendeneres,” she said, throwing the drink, glass and all, into the roaring flames.

  Maria, standing in shocked silence in the bedroom doorway, quickly scuttled back into bed. “She’s upset with Papa,” she said to the sleeping cat. “I thought Dani liked Papa.” Once more the child lay awake gazing at the ceiling.

  Dani looked at her watch: three-thirty-three. Would this night ever end? The sharp shrilling of the phone shattered the silence of the room. Dani’s heart leaped at the sound. Who could be calling her at this late hour? Certainly not Stash. He never called; he just showed up unannounced. The Alperts’ house was dark and Alex was in Rome. Quickly, she reached for the phone before it woke Maria. Probably some drunk.

  “Hello,” Dani said softly.

  “Miss Arnold, Miss Danielle Arnold? This is Valerie Mendeneres.” She made the whole statement sound like a question.

  “Yes. This is Danielle Arnold.” She hoped her voice didn’t sound as shocked as she felt.

  “I’ve been trying for some hours now to reach my husband. So far I have been unsuccessful. I would like to speak to him, please.”

  “What makes you think he’s here? Do you have any idea what time it is?” Dani hedged as she tried to figure out the reason for the call. “You people certainly have a lot of nerve,” she finally blustered.

  “Come now, Miss Arnold. We are both women of the world. We both know why my husband would be there. I would like to speak to him, please,” she said, demanding, arrogant.

  A whisper of fear skittered up Dani’s spine at the tone of the other woman’s voice. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Mendeneres isn’t here.”

  “I have no choice but to believe you at the moment,” Valerie continued. “You will please give him this message—”

  “I am afraid, Mrs. Mendeneres,” Dani interrupted suddenly, “that you will have to give him your own message. I don’t expect to see your husband, today or in the next few days. What in the world makes you think I am your husband’s keeper? Call Federal Express if you want to send a message.”

  “Your very actions, my dear.” The cold, dismissive voice turned deadly sounding. The whisper of fear skittering up and down Dani’s spine was now a full-blown shout.

  “What actions?” Dani blurted. The malevolent Valerie ignored her question.

  “Tell Alexander that I will meet him at fourthirty at the information booth in Penn Station. Tomorrow! You will also tell him that I will wait exactly ten minutes. If he is not there, the deal is off.”

  “Wait, wait, I can’t reach Mr. Mendeneres.” Dani blinked when she realized she was speaking to an empty, lifeless phone line. It was dead. Just as dead as she felt.

  Dani stood with the receiver gripped in her hand, eyes staring blankly. What deal was Valerie talking about? Alex never said he’d made a deal with his wife. Her skull felt as though it were splitting in two. “It’s too much!” she moaned. “Too much!”

  Once again she failed to see the small, still form in the bedroom doorway.

  Maria crept slowly back to bed. She shifted the weighty cat to a more comfortable position. “That was my mother,” she whispered. “First my father angers Dani; now my mother does the same thing. Soon Dani will hate me, too.” The child longed to rush into the living room to hug the tall, strange girl who had made her so happy. Somehow, she knew that Dani would not have wanted that. Then she questioned the sleeping cat. “How will she know that I love her with all my heart, even if my father and mother don’t?” She glanced at the small bedside clock: fourforty. She buried her head in Bismarck’s fur and wept uncontrollably.

  Suddenly, Bismarck struggled free of the child’s grasp and arched his back. Jumping from the bed, he stalked to the dark corner of the bedroom. Fur on end, he began spitting and snarling.

  Maria moved to the foot of the bed and peered into the dim shadows. “It’s Brother Gian, Bismarck. Do not be afraid. He is here to watch me. Now everything will be all right,” she whispered. “Come here, Bismarck,” she called softly. The huge tom, at the sound of the child’s voice, relaxed and hopped back onto the bed. The child knew she would have to leave in the morning before her beloved Dani came to hate her. Now that the Monk was here everything would be all right. Wherever she went, the Monk would follow. With the heavy decision made, her choking sobs diminished and she slept.

  Dani cradled the phone and brought her eyes back into focus. Now what was she to do? Damn the man. Every damn time she needed him, he was off somewh
ere. “I don’t have an address or even a phone number in Rome where I can reach him,” she wailed silently. A picture of her trying to get through to the Vatican flashed before her. Suddenly, she giggled and the tension she had felt all night long was gone. It was simply a question of logistics. Quickly, she poured herself a cup of coffee. She lit a cigarette and let her mind race. Dani sat quietly, rejecting and accepting. Finally satisfied, she heaved a weary yawn and decided to call it a night or what was left of the night. Dani looked at the small square watch on her slim wrist: five-fifty-eight. The dawn of a new day.

  Maria crept from the warm bed and pushed Bismarck onto the floor. She tiptoed to Dani’s door and looked in. Dani lay fully dressed across the bed, deep in sleep. Quietly, she closed the door. Opening a small can of cat food, she slopped it haphazardly into the dish. She poured herself a small glass of juice and reached for a box of cereal. Turning on the television, she sat munching the sweet-flavored tidbits. She would leave around eleven after she borrowed Kelly’s bicycle. Setting the cereal aside, she counted her small hoard of money. Forty-seven dollars and ninety-six cents. That would hold her till she got to the city and wired her grandmother to send her a plane ticket. The object was to take nothing with her except her money. Maria continued to munch and chew thoughtfully as she watched Felix the Cat scamper across the wide screen.

  As was her custom after breakfast, Maria made her bed and changed the litter box. She brushed her teeth and dressed. Back in the kitchen, she cleaned up the spilled cat food. She had just washed her hands when there was a knock on the back door. Carefully, she peered around the colorful curtains. “Stash,” she almost squealed. Maria removed the chain and opened the door. The red-bearded giant gave her a quick hug and whirled her in the air. “How’s my favorite noodge?” Not waiting for a reply, he continued, “Guess what? I came to take you and Dani to the circus. So where’s the warden? Go get her!”

  Maria’s face fell. “I’m sorry, Stash, but Dani is sleeping and she told me not to wake her. She did not get to bed at all last night. She said it was some kind of virus and that I should be quiet and let her sleep all day. Perhaps you could take me to the circus. Just the two of us. I am sure Dani wouldn’t mind.”

  “Why not?” Stash shrugged. “Get your coat and I’ll write Dani a note. We should be back some time after dinner. This way she’ll have the whole day to herself.”

  Carefully, he penciled the note.

  Dear Dani,

  Arrived bright eyed and bushy-tailed this morning at nine to invite you and Maria to the circus. She told me you have a virus. Some luck. I only catch colds. Viruses always sound so important. I’ll have Maria back after dinner. Sorry I missed you.

  Take care.

  Stash

  Stash placed the note on the round wooden table next to the empty cat food tin. He picked up the tin and threw it in the trash bag. Several moist balls of food dropped from the rim. He looked for a cloth to wipe up the spill. Seeing none, he shrugged. Maria came into the kitchen, eyed the note and grimaced. Quickly, they left the small house and headed for New York.

  Some time shortly after the noon hour, Bismarck, tired of being on his own, strutted nonchalantly into the kitchen. He looked around in total disdain. He eyed the empty dish that bore his name and sniffed at the trash can. Once more he looked around, sniffed again. Leaping onto the chair, he let his eyes move over the tabletop. Pouncing on the minuscule balls of cat food, he licked his whiskers then padded over the shiny surface of the tabletop, knocking the small piece of paper to the floor. Jumping from the table, he caught the paper as it landed. He clawed at it and heard the crisp crackle as his two front paws crunched the paper into a ball. Obsessively, he played with the small scrap for over an hour. He eyed the shreds of now limp paper and lay down under the table.

  Hours later, Dani climbed wearily from her bed. Glancing at the small bedside clock over her shoulder, she was shocked at the time: oneforty-five. She walked through the old house and could find no trace of Maria. Bismarck was asleep under the kitchen table. She checked the litter box. Clean. She looked into the shallow red dish that belonged to him and saw a faint trace of dry food. Maria had taken care of him. Why wasn’t he with her?

  The chain and latch were off the back door. The front door was still locked. Dani walked out the back door and called the child. Stillness hung like a pall. Then she remembered. The new school opened today. All the kids would be gone. So would Mrs. Alpert, as she taught the fifth grade. She called again. Bismarck stirred and joined Dani on the back porch. He looked at her reproachfully. “Well, where is she?” Dani demanded. For an answer, Bismarck retraced his steps to the kitchen and lay down under the table.

  The first faint fingers of panic gripped Dani’s stomach. Back in her bedroom, she changed her rumpled clothes hurriedly and threw on a heavy jacket. This time she unlatched the front door and went out to the winding, curved road. Kelly’s bike was propped against the holly tree in his front yard. Wherever Maria had wandered off to, she had evidently walked. Next, she headed for the worn path by the brook that led to the woods. Dani was halfway up the path when she suddenly knew, though she couldn’t explain why, that Maria wasn’t in the woods.

  Still she called feebly, knowing full well that there would be no reply. Her stomach in a knot, she headed back to the house. She had to do something. Maria wouldn’t just wander off. Quite the contrary. With the boys now in school, she would be lost and stick close to home. Something had happened to her! If the front door still had the chain on and the chain was off the back door, it could only mean that the little girl had opened the door to someone. Someone she must have known. Dani had warned her, repeatedly, never to open the door to anyone she didn’t know. Her head started to throb. What to do? Call the police? No. If she did, Alex would have a fit.

  The child would never run away; Dani was sure of that. Could Valerie have taken her? Was that why the door stood open? She had to believe that Valerie had her for the moment and that for the moment she was safe. Was that what Valerie meant last night when she called? She glanced at the kitchen clock and raced into the bathroom. Hurriedly, she applied some sketchy makeup. Brushing her hair, she drew it back and tied it with a scarf. She grabbed her purse and checked the money it held. Suddenly she had a thought. Dani raced to Maria’s room. Carefully, she searched for some clue. The minuscule search took ten minutes. When she finished, she was sure of only one thing. Maria’s heavy jacket and her small hoard of “mad” money were gone. Dani was more puzzled than ever. If Maria took the money, she must have had a reason. The youngster had been saving it to buy presents for her grandmother and her friends.

  Wearily, Dani gave up on the wild ideas that were swirling and twirling inside her head. She looked again at the clock. She would have to hurry if she intended to take Alex’s place at Penn Station. The only hope that sustained her was that she could bluff her way out of the situation. God, I’m no good at this kind of intrigue. I’m just a plain old, everyday citizen who minds her own business.

  Dani picked up her camel’s-hair coat and car keys and left the small house, but first she left a note for the child, propped up on the mantel. “I hope you return to read it, Maria,” she sighed.

  In the driveway, Dani looked at Alex’s sleek Lincoln Continental and at the four-wheel-drive Jeep. Without hesitating, she jumped into the colorful Jeep and backed out of the driveway. Maneuvering the Lincoln was like driving a Mack truck.

  For the entire journey to the city, Dani drove with her teeth clenched so hard that her jaw ached. By the grace of God, she found a parking spot and walked the few short blocks to the train station. Once inside, she let her eyes scan the walls till she found a clock. She verified the time with the tiny watch on her wrist. It was two minutes off. She had half an hour to kill till it was time to meet Valerie. Spotting a phone booth, she fished about in her change purse for a dime. Dialing Stash’s private number, Dani counted . . . Seven, eight, nine . . . “Hello?”

  “This
is Dani Arnold. Can I speak to Stash, please?”

  “Hi, Dani. This is Brad. Sorry, but Stash isn’t here today. I’m in charge.”

  Dani felt limp. She had been counting on Stash to be there. She needed somebody to talk to. “Do you know where he is, Brad? It’s important.”

  “No idea, Dani. He gave me the word yesterday. All he said was that he had a heavy date today with not one but two girls. Sorry I can’t be of more help. Is there anything I can do?”

  “No. Thanks anyway, Brad.” Slowly Dani hung up the phone. She was really counting on Stash. Until now he’d always been there for her. Her eyes smarted; she had always been able to count on Stash. Double damn.

  Dani headed back to the main concourse and eyed the milling people. There wasn’t a soul she recognized. Moving over to an unoccupied bench, she sat down. She had a clear, unobstructed view of the information booth. Now all she had to do was wait. And wait she did.

  Dani clenched and unclenched her fists, getting up intermittently to stretch her legs. She looked at her watch for what must have been the hundredth time. It was ten minutes of six. Where was Valerie? Dani sat back down and continued to stare at the throngs of people bent on catching their commuter trains. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. There was no point in waiting any longer. She might as well leave. She knew Alex would never forgive her but there was nothing else for her to do. Dejectedly, she rose to her feet.

  Never in her life had she felt so helpless, so afraid for another human being. What was she to do? Where to turn? “If there was only something I could do,” she murmured softly. Sitting and waiting was unbearable. I have to do something, anything, she thought. I’ll comb this station from one corner to the next, she thought viciously. I’ll find her if it’s the last thing I do.

  Sixteen

  “Dani!” She heard her name being called. She swiveled around.