by Amy Isaman
“The neighborhood watch has Darius? They don’t have authority to detain people, do they?”
“I’ve no idea, but they have a giant scary German Shepherd that definitely has the authority.”
“Why is the neighborhood watch even detaining you two? What have you done?”
“Well, we might have broken into a house. But we had a key. We were searching for a book of poetry by Yeats—”
“Wait,” Susan held up her hand to stop me. “You broke into a house? What have you dragged my cousin into?”
I stared at her as the fear that churned in my gut since the doorbell rang at the house turned hard and angry. “I haven’t dragged him into anything. He dragged me into finding these cards and now Laurel’s gone, and we have to find the last two cards in order to get my daughter back!” I stopped when a siren punctuated the night air.
“Oh, my God. The police. They’re coming. We don’t have time for this. We need to get out of here. Where’s your car? I can’t get caught. Especially if Darius does. Laurel will fall.” I reached for Susan’s hand and began to tug her down the street, further away from the alley.
Susan yanked her hand from my grasp and planted her feet. She wasn’t going anywhere.
I turned back to her. “Please, help me.“
“And leave Darius to help you with your ongoing crime spree?” She lifted her left hand and started counting off on her fingers. “You stole a painting from my mother, you stole Darius’ car, now it looks like breaking and entering. I’m guessing you’ve probably committed another theft, and now you somehow think I’m going to drive the getaway car after you’ve abandoned my cousin with some crazy people and their dog?”
“Susan,” I begged. “He’s fine. He told me to go so we both wouldn’t get caught. We’re looking for the third card. We need to get out of here. I won’t steal your car. I promise. You can drive it. In fact, I’d appreciate it if you would, but we need to leave. Now.”
She put her hands on her hips and glared at me silently.
I took a deep breath and quickly surveyed the street. No cops or sirens yet, though I was sure the neighborhood watch called it in. “I swear, he fell down. The neighborhood watch and their dog caught him. We need to go. Now.”
She shook her head and turned back to the alley. “As you’ve said.”
“I’ll lose my daughter if we don’t. Or, maybe you already know that. Are you checking on our progress?”
“You keep talking about losing your daughter? And now you want to know if I’m checking your progress? I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. Bloody crazy woman is what you are.” Susan turned back to me and crossed her arms. “Where is your daughter?”
I wanted to scream in frustration. Why couldn’t she just get in her car with me and go? “I’ll tell you what’s going on as soon as we’re in your car.” My voice cracked at the end, as the frustration and emotion began to well out of me. I had no more energy to keep it together.
“Please,” I begged. “Please, just get me out of here.” Tears of frustration, anger, and fear began to course down my face, and I swiped at them, trying to hold it together but failing miserably.
“All right, all right,” Susan muttered, confusion flitting across her face, but it softened. “God, you’ve got yourself in a twist. Pull yourself together. I’ll help. But first, I want my mother’s painting back.”
Relief swamped me as I followed her down the street and away from the alley. “Of course. It’s at the Inn. I already gave it back to Darius.”
Susan harrumphed in reply as I followed her to a miniature Smart Car and wedged myself into the front seat. No cops had arrived yet. Maybe Darius would be able to sweet-talk his way out of this mess before they arrived. I leaned my head back.
“Where too?” she asked.
I stared at her. “I don’t know. I just can’t get caught.”
“Never mind. Let’s just head to the Inn.”
“No, not there. I think they’re watching it.”
Susan sighed and pulled out onto the street, driving slowly. “Okay, I’ll bite. Who’s watching the Inn?”
“We don’t know, but it’s about the cards and Laurel. Somebody knows we have them. And they want them.”
She glanced over at me, her eyebrows drawn together. “What? Who could know? Who did you tell?”
“We told a few people, but they’re people we trust. Like you. But somebody took Laurel today. And we a car tailed us this evening. We don’t know who it is.”
Susan stopped the car at a red light. “Where in the bloody hell am I going?”
We needed to find somewhere that I could peel the third tarot card from the back of Yeats’ book, so we could see if there was another clue to the final card. But where? No museum was open at this hour. And even if I waited until the morning, how could I explain where an American tourist managed to come across a first edition signed book of W.B. Yeats’ poetry that happened to have a priceless tarot card stuck in the back? I couldn’t.
Collin was the only person I knew in London. He’d offered to help, and he certainly had the expertise. Then, I considered Tori. She knew about the card, but I didn’t know her, so how could I trust her with my daughter’s life? No.
Sirens in the distance got louder and created a wave of anxiety that swept through me. I swallowed bile and hoped they weren’t for Darius. But my heart told me they were.
“Give me a sec. I need to lookup an address.” I reached into my purse for my phone to get Collin’s address and map it for Susan. No phone. Panic seized my chest as I dumped the contents onto my lap. No phone. I patted myself down, checking all my pockets.
“Something wrong?” Susan asked, eying me dubiously.
“We need to go back,” I yelled, panic-stricken.
“To the scene of a crime that you just insisted we leave and to which you think the police are on their way? Now you want to save Darius?”
“I don’t have my phone. It must have fallen out of my bag in the basement.”
Susan stared at me, her eyes wide. “Bloody brilliant. You left your phone in a home you broke into?”
“I think so.” And we needed to go back and get it. Somehow. It was the only way the kidnappers could reach me, especially if Darius got arrested, and they wouldn’t be able to reach him either.
“Well, I’m going to pound some sense into you. Your phone ties you to the crime. If, as you say, somebody has your daughter, then going back is the worst possible idea. You will be arrested.” She gunned her little car when the signal turned green and glared at me. “Right along with my cousin.”
I clenched my fists. “Please! It’s your family’s damn curse that got me into this. I should have left the Inn on the first day when something just didn’t feel right. But did I listen to my gut? No, instead I stayed, and now I’m in the biggest nightmare of my life. So, screw you, Susan. Your daughter isn’t gone. And why not?” I took a breath, rage coursing through me. It felt good to let this all out, and I didn’t give a damn what Susan thought of me. “Why didn’t they take Chelsea and make you find these damn cards? Why are they going after me, an American tourist, and not the family who obviously has the cards, but hasn’t been able to figure that out or find them?”
“Jesus,” Susan murmured. “Take a breath, Tricia.” Susan pulled her car over on the deserted street and stopped. “We’re not going to get anywhere screaming like this.”
I felt like I was choking and needing to vomit all at the same time. My hands shook, like they hadn’t done since the day of Bret’s funeral.
“I can’t breathe,” I choked out. “I think I’m having a heart attack.”
“You can breathe. It’s a panic attack, not a heart attack.” She reached for my hand. “Close your eyes and focus. You need to tell me what’s going on, or I’m taking you into the mental health hospital. You’re crazy, you know that?”
I nodded, unable to disagree. I felt crazy. In the last ten hours, my whole world had tilted upside do
wn and been shaken up, like I’d been thrown into some psychotic parallel universe that made zero sense.
Tears streamed down my face as I told Susan of everything that happened since Laurel and I left her mother’s house this afternoon. I wasn’t sure if she believed me as she kept shaking her head, but what choice did I have? Darius was sure that she wasn’t behind the kidnapping. And if she was, I wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know. I didn’t know what else to do. When I finished, Susan handed me a tissue.
“I don’t care about the damn cards.” I blew my nose and wiped my face. “I just want my daughter back, and I’ll leave. You can have the cards, the books, whatever. As long as Laurel is okay, I’ll be okay.”
“Yeah. I can imagine.”
“And I can’t get her back if I don’t have my phone. It’s the only way they have to contact me about Laurel, so we need to go get it, or I might lose her.” It must have slipped out of my pocket when I was sitting on the floor sorting through all of the papers. Or had I taken it out myself? And forgotten it in my hurry to turn off the lights when the door chimes rang? I couldn’t remember.
Susan started the car and made a U-turn.
“Where are you going?” I asked, the sharp panic returning to my chest.
“We’re going back to the scene of the crime to possibly get your phone.”
“What if the police are there? I can’t get caught. I’ll never get Laurel back. We have to wait until after the police leave. We have to go somewhere else first.” I grabbed at her arm, trying desperately to keep her from turning the car around.
She slammed on the brakes and glared at me. “First you want to leave. Then you want to go back. Now, you don’t want to go back?”
“Not yet. Not till after the watch leaves.”
“Tricia, we need to scope the situation out. And don’t touch me while I’m driving unless you want me to crash.” She ripped her arm from my grip, shoved the car into gear, and headed back toward Mr. Coates’ house.
Panic seized me. I couldn’t afford to get arrested. One of us needed to be free to rescue Laurel. I needed my phone but more importantly, I needed to not get arrested. She started to accelerate, but the little smart car had zero power. I opened the car door and leaped to the sound of her screaming that I was insane.
I thought I’d be able to stay on my feet since she hadn’t been going any faster than a slow jog, but my exhausted legs collapsed under me, and I fell. Hard. My left knee slammed into the pavement. Susan stopped, and I could hear her yelling about me being crazy as I pulled myself to my feet, my knee throbbing in pain. As soon as I stood, she jammed it in gear and tore off down the road back toward Mr. Coates’ house.
I hurried to the sidewalk and tried to get my bearings, but I needed to get as far away from this neighborhood as possible. At least until the cops left, and I could get back into the house to get my phone, but who knew how long that would take. Would they search the house? Would they call Mr. Coates? Would I even be able to get back in at all?
A sob caught in my throat as I turned a corner and began running, searching for any place with a phone I could use.
Chapter 24
I FINALLY SLOWED to a walk. My legs ached. My eyes stung from crying and exhaustion, and blood dripped down my shin from my skinned and throbbing knee. I was in a quiet London neighborhood. It had to be close to or past midnight. At each corner, I surveyed the streets, looking for lights or businesses. After a half-hour of walking, I heard music. I finally found some life. I was sure I looked like hell, but I couldn’t worry about that. The door was open and young people hung around outside. Thankful for the dark interior, I went in and approached the bartender.
“Hi. Any chance you could call me a cab? I’ve lost my friends and my phone.”
“Number’s right there.” He set an old style, black corded phone on the bar. A piece of paper, faded from time, was taped to the top, underneath the receiver with the phone number for TAXI penciled on it. Relief flooded through me.
I sat on the curb, waiting for my ride. Goosebumps pimpled my arms as the sweat from my run cooled, chilling me in the night air. I rubbed my arms and rested my forehead on my knees until I felt myself relaxing into sleep there on the curb. I couldn’t sleep. Wouldn’t. Not until I had my daughter with me. I rose and paced, willing the cab to hurry.
Thirty minutes later, I stood on Collin’s stoop and rang the bell. It took five minutes of incessant ringing and pounding on the door before I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. He pulled open the door, his face quickly moving from surly to surprised when he saw me.
“Tricia? Blimey! You scared us half to death. What are you doing out at this time of the night? You look terrible. What happened?” He didn’t wait for an answer but reached forward, pulling me into the house and ushering me into the kitchen. “Tea?”
I nodded, mutely, as he guided me to a chair and put a kettle on.
“Let me get Lucy. I’ll be right back.”
When we were all settled at the kitchen table, Collin broke the silence. “What’s happened? Where’s your friend? Where’s Laurel?”
I took a deep breath, trying not to cry, but it seemed that I couldn’t talk about Laurel without falling apart, so I said a quick prayer for her, took a sip of tea, and fell apart the moment I began to speak. Their kindness destroyed me. With Susan, my anger held me together. Bawling, tears and snot running down my face, I babbled until the whole story came pouring out. As Susan said, it was crazy. I felt crazy.
“What do I do?” I asked when I finally finished.
Collin’s mouth hung open in stunned surprise while Lucy stood and moved behind me, rubbing my shoulders.
“You’ve got to call the police,” Collin said, beginning to pace around the small kitchen. “I can’t believe you haven’t done that yet, Tricia. It’s imperative. They say there’s a twenty-four-hour window to find missing people, that you have to start looking right away. That window, it’s closing.”
I held back another sob. “But I did go to the police.”
“You did? I thought you said they threatened to hurt Laurel if you went to the police.”
“Well, that was before.”
Collin shook his head. “I’m not following you.”
“Before the kidnappers called me, I filed a report. Darius found me and we went to the police in the village, right there. But she’s a grown woman, who took her ID and money with her. It’s apparently okay for adults to go out on their own. The constable thought it was all a bit suspicious, and he said they’d keep an eye out for her, but it’s not like she’s a six-year-old.”
“So, you’ve filed a report? That’s good,” Collin assured me. “Have you contacted the Constable since? Shared any of this new information, about the kidnappers contacting you?”
“No.” I tried not to break apart into sobs again. “They said they’d kill her if I called the police. I already filed the report. What if the kidnappers find out? Darius wanted to go back in and report the call, but I wouldn’t let him.” I rubbed my eyes as I struggled to voice one of my worst fears. “What if they find out?”
Collin leaned back on the counter. “I don’t think that would matter.”
“Why not?”
“Because they want the tarot cards. If they wanted Laurel, they never would have called you.”
I hadn’t thought of that, but I suppose it made sense. “But then what? What if I find the cards and give them to the kidnappers, and they kill Laurel anyway, so she wouldn’t be able to identify them?”
“No, I don’t recall you saying they’d kill her. Didn’t they say that ‘she’d fall’ not die?”
I stared at him. “That’s semantics, Collin. If somebody falls, especially off of a tower, they die.”
“Did Darius urge you not to call the police after the threat?”
I thought back. Had it only been this afternoon that he took me to the police station? We spoke with the Detective. Then we got the call outside afte
r we left the station, and we debated going back in.
“No, Darius thought we should go back in. He thought they could help.”
Collin began pacing across the kitchen.
“I think Darius is bluffing,” Lucy said, breaking the silence. “He’s got her. Who else could it be? He knows that you’re having some sort of weird psychic hits on these cards, so he’s using you and Laurel. Maybe he and that tarot woman set you up.”
Collin sat, his arms crossed. “We need a plan here.”
I didn’t want to figure out a plan. I wanted to get my phone, find the damn card, and get my daughter back. I finished my tea. My eyes burned with exhaustion, but I couldn’t sleep. Not until Laurel was safe with me. I glanced at the kitchen clock that hung above the table. 2:12 a.m.
Collin left the room, returning a minute later with a clipboard and a pen. He sat. “Alrighty. What do we know so far?” He started taking notes and making columns. It was so like Collin. This is how Bret would have handled it too, strategically.
“What in the bloody hell are you doing, Collin?” Lucy asked.
“Tricia needs to find her daughter. We need to help.”
Lucy shook her head at her husband. “She’s got to be at the Inn somewhere. Are there any rooms that you haven’t seen?”
“Well, of course. It’s an Inn. I haven’t been in all the rooms. But there’s a couple that we ran into at the V & A who was staying at the Inn. They might have overheard us talking about the card, and they checked out.” I gasped. I’d forgotten the Maxwells. How could I have done that?
“All it would take is for them to get another hotel room. It’s not like there’s a shortage of them in London. Or anywhere, really. They could have rented a storage shed for all we know.”
The thought of Laurel tied up in some dank storage shed somewhere made me physically ill.
Collin charged on. “Is there anyone else who knows? Think, Tricia. Somebody did this.”
I thought back to everything we’d done. “Oh… coffee.” My heart lurched in my chest.
“Come again,” Lucy said.
“Coffee. When Darius and I met with Tori, the afternoon before we met with you, Collin, Laurel was having coffee with somebody that she met on her run that morning. They set up a coffee date. They met for another run yesterday? Or the day before? I don’t even remember. She was pretty excited. What if she told him? And he followed us? And took her? She would have gone with him because she recognized him. But how do we find him?”