by V. E. Lemp
“The question is, do I know you?” Thea sipped her coffee. “You’ve told me about this investigation into Alex’s death, although there are holes in that story”—she shot Karen a quizzical look—“you seem unwilling to fill. So, we’re at the point where your friend Mark decides he wants to be more than a friend. My question is, what’s the problem? Don’t you like him? You talk like you do.”
“Oh, I like him.” Karen dipped her head to avoid Thea’s gaze. “But we definitely disagree about some things. I mean, we argue from time to time. It’s true he can make me laugh. But then he’ll absolutely, totally drive me up the wall.” She glanced at Thea. “Why are you wearing that Cheshire Cat grin?”
“Oh, no reason,” Thea said. “No reason at all.”
Karen sipped her coffee for a moment before speaking again. “Anyway, it feels … I don’t know, disloyal or something.”
“Disloyal? You can’t be serious. You’re talking about Alex, I suppose?”
“Of course,” Karen snapped. “Oh, there’s that look. Listen, I know you don’t agree with me, but I have my own way of dealing with things …”
“A very strange way.” Thea eyed Karen with concern. “And certainly not healthy.”
“So you say. But lately I’ve dreamt of him so often. It’s almost like he’s come back to me.”
Thea tapped her spoon against the rim of her cup. “Alex is dead. He’s not coming back, now or ever. The sooner you accept that reality, the better. You’ve spent years in denial as it is.”
Aaron bounded into the kitchen from the backyard. He was wearing track shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt. A light sheen of sweat veiled his dark skin.
Karen smiled at him. “More running? You’re far too industrious, Aaron. Here we sit, drinking coffee and eating Danish—we left a couple of pieces on the counter, by the way—and there you are, all healthy and such. It makes us look bad.”
“You look just fine to me.” He winked at Karen and bent down to plant a kiss on Thea’s shoulder. “Very fine.”
“Behave,” Thea said. “How was the run this morning? Did you see that hot young thing who jogs practically nude? I know she inspires you to run a little faster.”
“Nope.” Aaron poured a cup of coffee and grabbed a pastry before sitting at the table. “But I did notice something odd.”
“What was that?” Karen toyed with the handle of her empty cup.
“A car,” Aaron said. “Not one I’ve ever seen in this neighborhood. Some nondescript tan car traveling around the block like they were searching for an address.”
Karen sat bolt upright in her chair.
“Either they have crap eyesight or wrong directions, because they couldn’t seem to find what they were looking for.” He made a spinning motion with his hand and took a big bite out of the Danish. “Just kept circling, you know.”
“Were they following you?” Karen asked breathlessly.
“Don’t think so. Why would anyone follow me?”
“Karen, what’s the matter?” Thea narrowed her dark-brown eyes. “You look like someone kicked your dog. If you had a dog, that is.”
“Were they on this block, Aaron?” Karen asked quietly. “Or farther off?”
“No, it was this block. I noticed them when I first started out, and they were still driving around when I returned. It seemed strange. I watched them for a minute or two.”
Karen swore, several times.
“The children,” Thea said firmly, “don’t need to hear that.”
“Eh,” Aaron spoke through a mouthful of pastry, “cut her some slack. They hear worse from us all the time.”
“So what’s the big deal, Karen?” Thea asked. “Something to do with your little investigation?”
Karen stood and walked to the window that overlooked the street. “I’m not sure. Maybe it’s nothing. But I think I’ll look for this lost car. Just to see if they’re still circling.” Oh crap. Saying that was a mistake, judging by Thea and Aaron’s concerned expressions. She forced a weak smile. “Nothing to worry about. I just need to check it out.”
Thea looked dubious. “Do you want Aaron to go with you?”
“No, no, I’ll be fine. Sit and eat your breakfast, Aaron.”
Karen headed out the kitchen door and crossed the yard to the back gate. Even as she flipped the latch, the tan car rolled by, moving very slowly. She ran onto the sidewalk, and the car took off, at a much higher speed, down the street. It turned the corner and disappeared.
Well, hell. Karen leaned against the rough planks of the wooden fence and stared up into the clear sky. Aquamarine blue. No, she mustn’t focus on that. She shook a subsequent image from her head.
“Karen Foster,” said a low, monotone voice. “I thought I might find you here.”
Karen spun around to face the speaker—a slender, dark-haired woman whose black eyes seemed too large for her pale face.
It had to be another one of the unearthly creatures Myron Tarrow had mentioned. Something connected, possibly, to an alien race. Here to do what? Study humanity? Enslave them?
Creatures who’d been communicating with her all her life. Without her understanding. Without her consent. Karen shivered and clutched her arms to her chest.
“You’re not Alice,” Karen said, when she could speak.
“No, I am not. I am Isabelle.”
Although her features matched Alice’s enough to be that of a sibling, Karen had no difficulty distinguishing the differences. This woman also appeared younger.
Karen took a deep breath to smooth any quaver in her voice. “What do you want with me, Isabelle?”
“I am here to make you an offer.”
It took all of Karen’s self-control to meet the other woman’s gaze. “Not sure you have anything I want.”
“Perhaps not. But you might be surprised. I imagine,” Isabelle said, with no change in inflection, “the safety of your friends would command your interest.”
Karen stared into those odd, dark eyes. “Are you threatening them? I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”
“No, of course not. Why would I threaten anyone? But I must caution you—your investigations are placing them under an unwelcome spotlight.”
“The investigation Mark Hallam and I are conducting into Alex Wythe’s death?”
“Exactly.” Isabelle’s neutral expression never wavered. “And your interest in Ian Vance and Exocorp, of course. Things not meant for outside scrutiny.”
“Maybe they should be scrutinized. It’s time the truth came out. It can’t be hidden in the shadows forever.”
“Can it not?” A brief smile, unpleasant in its insincerity, crossed Isabelle’s face. “But this is not what I came to speak with you about, Karen Foster.”
Karen leaned against the fence, struggling to make it appear a nonchalant move unconnected with the shaking in her legs. “So what is it you want?”
“I do not want anything. I am merely a messenger. I bring you an offer from Exocorp.”
“You mean from Dr. Ian Vance.”
Isabelle shrugged. “One and the same. At any rate, he is eager for you to return to work with him at Exocorp.”
“On the latest version of the Morpheus Project?” Karen spoke with great deliberation, determined to disguise her dismay.
“Of course. I knew you would understand.”
“Actually, I don’t. I’m an artist and a teacher. What do I have to do with Vance’s ongoing research? I have no special skills in that area.”
“Really?” Isabelle’s cool stare raked over Karen. “You are dreaming again, are you not, Karen Foster? Those most unusual dreams? And drawing in your sleep?”
Karen’s heart began to race.
“I see by your expression I am correct. That is what Ian Vance is interested in, of course—your dreams and sketches. He believes you could assist Exocorp’s research efforts, in several areas.”
Karen shook her head. “He must be mad if he thinks I’d ever return.” She faced down
Isabelle’s stare. “I know things now, about the Morpheus Project and what it’s done to people. And even what it might mean. How could Dr. Vance imagine I’d want to return?”
Isabelle looked up and over Karen’s head, focusing on Thea and Aaron’s house. “It might go a long way toward providing protection for those you care about. Not that Vance would seek to harm them, but there are others less scrupulous about such things. Some of Exocorp’s ... investors.” She dropped her gaze and stared directly at Karen. “I would think about this offer. You do not have to answer me now. But consider all the possibilities before you make a decision. I would hate to see”—her dark eyes flashed—“any more accidents or suicides.”
Karen pressed her back into the fence to stay upright. “How do I get in touch with you if I decide to accept?”
“Oh, I have connections who can convey a message to someone you trust,” Isabelle said. “Myron Tarrow, for instance. Not that he is involved in this affair. In fact, he would love nothing better than to expose all of Exocorp’s secrets. But Tarrow is willing to accept messages of, shall we say, a most unusual kind. I will send word to him of where I can be reached. When you come to a decision, you may ask him for that information.”
“I have no intention of helping Ian Vance with anything. I hope you know that, Isabelle,” Karen said, as the other woman turned to go
“Why not ask David Cole what he thinks?” Isabelle called over her shoulder. “He may be able to provide you with useful advice.”
“What do you mean? What does David Cole know?”
Isabelle paused. “Ask him. He may tell you more than you can imagine.”
Karen didn’t move as the dark-haired stranger strode off and disappeared around the corner. There was no point in following.
This was too big for her to tackle on her own. She saw that now. She couldn’t keep these encounters to herself, no matter how much she wished to do so—no matter how fervently she wanted to forget all this insanity and retreat back into her safe cocoon world.
But she couldn’t, not now. She’d dragged other people into this mess, including Thea and Aaron and the children. It wasn’t just her life that was in danger, it was also theirs. All because they cared for her. Her fault … Karen clenched her fingers into fists. Her personal feelings couldn’t drive her actions now. She couldn’t allow her friends to be harmed—to end up like Drew. She needed help from someone who had the resources to protect them.
Someone like Mark.
She shook out her tense fingers and walked through Thea and Aaron’s yard to reenter their kitchen.
“See anything, Karen?” Thea asked. “Was that car still circling the block?”
“Not anymore.” Karen surveyed her friends’ bemused faces. “I have a favor to ask. Would it be okay if I invited a friend for a brief visit? He needs to come and talk with us. Or at least, with me.”
Thea’s face brightened. “If you mean Mark Hallam, of course he can come. You’re talking about Mark, I hope?”
“Yes. I think we need his help. If he’ll come.” She pursed her lips. Their last encounter might give him pause.
“Of course he will, if you ask him,” Thea said.
“Who’s this?” Aaron looked baffled. “One of Karen’s friends?”
Thea’s mischievous smile did nothing to calm Karen’s nerves. “Yes, a friend.”
“Of course I’ll come,” Mark said when Karen called him. “Just let me know if I need to bring my boots and gloves.”
“For what?”
“To survive the arctic chill. You were a bit frosty during our last encounter.”
“Forget it then.” Karen slammed down the phone.
Her cell buzzed immediately.
“Don’t hang up,” Mark said. “Give me directions, and I’ll drive up tomorrow. You said there were things you didn’t want to discuss over the phone. Valuable information, I assume?”
“I think so. Closely tied to our investigation, anyway. Considering the importance of our mission, I’m willing to continue working with you. If you promise not to insult me again, that is.”
“Was I insulting?” There was a lilt of humor in his voice.
“You know you were. That or condescending. Not sure which.”
“Simply being honest.”
“I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on that point.” Karen gave him the address and driving directions. “I hope we can get past our differences,” she added, in a more neutral tone. “What we’re doing is too important to abandon over silly arguments.”
“I agree.” There was a moment of silence. Karen thought Mark had finished the call until he continued in a firm voice, “I do like you, Karen. Very much, as a matter of fact. But I’m not going to coddle you. I’ll state my opinions and tell you the truth whether you like it or not. I think it’s about time someone did. You’ve been handled with kid gloves for too long.”
“Really? And you know this how?”
“By the way you behave when anyone says something you don’t like.”
“This is not a promising start.”
Mark continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “The thing is, I respect you, Karen. I think you’re an interesting, intelligent woman. And much stronger than others believe. You need some pushing, though. I will warn you—I’m not going to indulge your odd notions.”
“Odd notions? Such as what?”
“Such as clinging to memories rather than living your life. Such as worshipping at the shrine of a lost love instead of …”
“Yes? Instead of what?”
“Never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow. It’s probably better to finish this when we’re face to face.”
“Very well. I guess I can endure another lecture.”
“I wasn’t planning a lecture. I was thinking of a demonstration.”
“Demonstration? Of what?”
“See you tomorrow, Karen.” He hung up.
TEN
The next day Karen was lured into her goddaughter’s bedroom by the promise of seeing the most wonderful thing she could imagine. Karen sat on the floor amid a collection of toys, all culled from different play sets and reflecting a divergence of scales. The toys were arranged to form an elaborate farm scene. Karen recognized some of seven-year-old Bradley’s army figures and vehicles mixed in among Barbie furniture and accessories. A large dollhouse, emptied of its contents and filled with pieces from an old farm set, functioned as a glamorous barn. Barbie reigned over this kingdom, several inches taller than the army figures, although—as five-year-old Cara explained—they were a few of Barbie’s many boyfriends.
“And what’s this?” Karen picked up a small horse figurine with a glittery silver pipe cleaner twisted around its head. One end of the pipe cleaner stuck out from the center of the horse’s forehead.
“A unicorn. They’re all unicorns.” Cara waved her hand over one area of the floor, where other horse figurines bedecked with pipe cleaners huddled in a paddock built from the plastic razor-wire fences of Bradley’s army set.
“Ah,” Karen said, “I see that now. How silly of me.”
“Really silly, Aunt Karen. Everybody knows what unicorns look like.” Cara’s dark brown eyes, so like Thea’s, were filled with disdain. “Haven’t you ever seen one?”
“Sadly, no.” A doorbell chimed in the distance. It was probably Mark. Karen debated going to the door but decided to allow Thea to welcome him. His recent comments still rankled.
Karen leaned over, grabbed a small plastic trough, and set it inside the miniature paddock. “I bet unicorns need water just like real horses.”
“Unicorns are real horses.” Cara’s deep sigh indicated Karen was lacking in some fundamental brain functioning. “Horses with horns on their heads. But they’re real, you know.”
“Of course.” A shadow fell across the pale carpet. Karen turned to see Mark standing in the doorway.
“Playtime?” His brown eyes were bright with amusement.
“It’s no joking mat
ter, Mr. Hallam.” Karen climbed to her feet. “For your information, Barbie is the sole owner of an extremely busy farm.”
“Hello.” Cara looked up at Mark, her eyes very wide.
“Hello, there,” he replied. “I’m Mark. You must be Cara.”
“Yep.” Cara ducked her head and fiddled with one of the horse figurines.
“Mark and I need to go and talk with your parents now,” Karen said. “We can play again later.” She carefully picked her way through the farm scene. When she reached the door, Mark took a step back to allow her to cross in front of him.
“Okay, see you later,” Cara sang out as they left the room.
“That’s quite an installation.” Mark shortened his stride to walk beside Karen. “I’m particularly impressed by the razor-wire fencing.”
Karen gave him a quick glance from under her lashes. “Barbie’s very concerned about containing her livestock. Understandable, as she has a pasture full of unicorns.”
“Unicorns?” Mark raised his eyebrows. “How extraordinary. Even after all those years of living with Ken?”
Karen was still laughing when they walked into the kitchen. Thea gave Mark a thorough once-over. “Liked your face when I met you at the door. Thought you’d be good for Karen, and I see I wasn’t wrong.”
“Thank you,” he replied with a nod. “Although you’d better reserve judgment until you know me better.”
Karen, who was chuckling softly, caught Thea staring at her.
“No, I can already see you’re on the side of the angels. Now”—Thea turned to address the whole group—“let’s head into the living room. More comfortable for a chat.”
“What about the kids?” Aaron asked.
“Oh, Cara’s still playing in her room, and I allowed Bradley access to one of his video games. They’ll be occupied for hours.”
As Karen walked into the living room she noticed Thea shooing Aaron away from the sofa. “Take the chairs. Leave the sofa for our guests.”
Karen shot Thea a warning look, but her friend had already settled in an armchair. Aaron chose the chair next to her. Karen slowly crossed the room and sat on the sofa next to Mark, noting Thea’s suspiciously smug expression.
