"You got it, boss." Charlie mock-saluted.
"Maggie?" Damien touched the sleeve of her jacket to get her attention. "Is Audrey okay?" His feelings for Audrey had maintained a constant warm presence in his chest, and it seemed danger lurked on every corner. Maybe he shouldn't have left her.
"The doctor thinks she'll be able to leave this afternoon. She's sleeping right now. You boys had better get to work in here—there's no telling when whatever it was will be back with reinforcements."
16
They had managed to stay out of the way of the forensics team and had been through all the papers but hadn't found anything. Damien's stomach growled, and he kept having to remind himself not to call Audrey no matter how badly he wanted to. She needed her rest.
"I don't get it," he said and sat back on his heels. "We don't even know what we're looking for."
Charlie blinked. "Whatever the thing wanted to take or destroy. We know it wasn't done because we interrupted it."
"Right." Damien couldn't imagine the same creature going through the files strategically and ripping out John the accountant's throat. Somehow it was easier to picture a madman doing it. "But how do we know when we've found it?"
"Well, think about it. If that John guy was able to save the secretary from certain doom, maybe he left us something. If you were in a panic, where would you leave something important?"
"Certain doom, huh? You're getting dramatic." Damien tried to look around the office with new eyes. "I'd put it in with something they wouldn't think to look at."
"Good idea. So we're looking for something that doesn't belong with the rest of the stuff in that file or pile."
Damien shook his head. "I need to get a glass of water."
"There's a cooler in the lobby."
Damien walked out there and saw the box Ms. Spinks had been packing. Those files, unlike the others, hadn't been disturbed. Or had they, but by human hands? He grabbed a glass of water, pulled the papers out of the box, and sat cross-legged on the ground, aware his feet would be asleep in no time. If they did, he would welcome the sensation as something mundane amid all the weirdness.
He leafed through the papers and found a pink invoice tucked in amongst a bunch of tax records. When he saw the name on the invoice, he let out a low whistle at the listed amount. He didn't know anything about construction, but something seemed off.
"Hey, Charlie, come look at this."
"What?" A shuffling noise indicated Charlie must be extracting himself from the pile of papers he'd been working on.
"I mean, it could've been mis-filed, but it didn't go with the rest of the stuff in that folder." He handed the invoice to Charlie. "And that woman didn't seem the type to file things in the wrong place."
"Ames Construction," Charlie read. "You know, Lyle Ames fits the description that Nimue gave of the guy in the warehouse, and he's certainly got diverse enough interests."
"Yeah, his name's on everything. Ames Construction, Ames Regional Bank, Ames Family Restaurant… If it is him, I don't know how we're going to catch him."
"I'll give Maggie a call and get her to bring Nimue to the station again to get a positive I.D. That'll at least give us reason to question him."
"Right." Damien wished he could feel as confident as Charlie projected. He'd never been comfortable cornering big fish like that.
"Actually, this is good enough reason. What say we drop in for a little lunchtime chat?"
"Mr. Ames is very busy today, gentlemen." The secretary, a slender young man with horn-rimmed glasses and a sweater vest, squinted at the computer screen. "He's booked from now 'til eight p.m."
Charlie and Damien had shown their badges, but they hadn't been ushered in immediately like they'd hoped. Just another way television wasn't like the real world. They'd have better luck with a warrant, but they needed more information to get one.
"If you want to come back tomorrow, he has three minutes at eight a.m. and two and a half minutes at noon, but that's when he eats lunch." The admin sat with his hands poised over the screen and blinked like an oversized meerkat.
"We'll be here at eight, then," Charlie said.
With a flurry of keystrokes, the appointment was confirmed. "You're squeezed in at eight, then, gentlemen. Please be on time. Normally I would make you wait the months it takes to get an appointment with Mr. Ames, but since you're law enforcement, I can bend the rules just a little. Of course, if you were to have a warrant, I could direct you to his lawyers."
"Hopefully that won't be necessary. Thanks for getting us in." Charlie put a hand on Damien's shoulder, then paused. "Would you happen to know a good place for lunch around here?"
"A lot of the guys from the office like a little diner on the corner. It's called 'Dream' something or other. Bye-bye, now."
"Well, that was futile," Damien grumbled. So much for figuring out who had kidnapped Audrey and running in there with a warrant, handcuffs, and… He sighed.
They walked down Peachtree Street, shoulders slumped against the wind that howled between the glass and stone buildings. Even the small trees, now devoid of all but a few pitiful leaves, sulked between gusts that bent them in half.
Charlie didn't seem perturbed, and Damien wondered again where his calm came from. "I guess the busiest businessman in Atlanta has a packed schedule. I didn't really think we'd be able to get in to see him today. Aha. There it is. You hungry?"
Damien surprised himself by saying, "Starving." So much for his daydreams of a romantic lunch.
The Dream-and-Dash Diner was crowded, but they found seats at the counter. The waitress brought them two steaming cups of coffee and menus, and Damien checked his watch: one o'clock. He wondered if he'd done enough detective work for the day and could get off early to visit Audrey. Maybe I'll bring her some flowers.
"Excuse me, gentlemen." The voice came from a tall, blonde, and impeccably dressed woman. Her black cashmere sweater hugged and accentuated all of her good curves and hid the bad—not that she likely had any—and her soft gray wool skirt hung in stylish folds to her black stiletto boots. For a moment, Damien thought it was Aphrodite, but the woman's eyes lacked the goddess' haughtiness, and her face, although beautiful, had stronger features. Aphrodite demanded attention and worship; this woman evoked respect and wariness.
"You are with the police?" she asked in a low voice. Damien and Charlie nodded and flipped out their badges. She examined each one closely. "I thought so. Come."
She tilted her head, and with a shrug, Charlie followed her to a newly empty booth, Damien close behind. They sat at the back of the restaurant, where she could watch the door, but where they would not be casually observed from outside. Damien noticed a man pass the front window and thought he looked familiar.
"What can we do for you, ma'am?" asked Charlie. "First, can we know your name?"
"I thought two clever detectives such as you would have figured that out by now."
Damien looked at her again. He'd seen her face somewhere—maybe he'd glanced at it in passing on his way to the comics in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution. Yes, just that morning, there had been an article about some sort of gala.
"You're Amelia Ames." He kept his voice down, although his heart pounded. This was one of the most powerful women in Atlanta, and not only because of who she married.
Charlie nodded approvingly. "My friend here is a quick study. Loves the society pages."
Damien's cheeks warmed.
"But if you'll forgive me, this doesn't seem like the kind of place I'd expected to encounter you." Charlie flashed his charming smile.
She twisted her engagement ring around her finger, and the large stone winked at Damien even in the dim light. "I'm not sure I know exactly what to tell you, why I'm even talking to you. But there's something fishy going on with my husband." A tear escaped her right eye and slid down her cheek, but she seemed not to notice.
The waitress came and took their lunch orders. Amelia surprised Damien by ordering a fried chicke
n sandwich with fries.
"I eat when I'm stressed," she confessed.
"And why do you think we may be interested in the source of your stress?" asked Charlie.
"You were just in his office. Lonnie called me and said you'd been there and that you would come here."
"What do you mean by 'something fishy'?" Damien ignored the growl his stomach gave and tried not to think about how long it would take for his corned beef sandwich to arrive.
"What I am going to tell you will sound strange, I'm afraid." Her eyes filled again, but she held the tears back. "About a year ago, we were at the Corporate Broadcasting Halloween party. A man dressed in a toga approached Lyle, and they wandered off and started talking. I had a strange feeling about him, but I couldn't put my finger on it."
"What did he look like?"
"Dark-skinned, like he spent a lot of time in the sun. Dark hair, graying at the temples. Very regal-looking, kind of like some Greek or Italian prince. He had a very strong nose and dark, piercing eyes." She squinted for emphasis. "Even though his face seemed middle-aged, the body under the toga was very muscular."
Charlie took notes in his little pad. "Did he have anyone with him?"
"Not that I could tell."
"So what was so fishy about this?" Damien asked. "Don't other businessmen approach your husband all the time with propositions?"
She turned her intense gaze to Damien like she expected him to understand. "You know how sometimes you have a feeling, and every little thing that happens, that should be innocent, has a darker interpretation that is just as plausible?"
Should he tell her how strange his life had become? "I know the exact feeling."
"Lyle came home from the office the following Monday, and even though he said nothing to me, I heard him on the phone talking to one of his vice presidents. He said he was going to explore a new area of business, but it would take some groundwork first. It would be worth it because it would make a lot of peoples' fantasies come true."
"Did he say anything else about the fantasies?" asked Damien. He'd seen some nightmares, which may be some people's fantasies. Sick people, but he knew they were out there.
"No, just that people would pay a lot for them. I thought he meant an amusement park or something like that, but nothing ever came of it as far as I could tell."
The food arrived, and she gestured for them to eat. She picked the breading off the chicken and nibbled on her fries.
Damien dug into his corned beef on rye. He couldn't believe how good it tasted. It was like every little thing had a certain extra spark since he'd realized without a doubt that he was mad about Audrey. His brain tripped over the l-word, but his heart told him it was true. Of course his rational side piped up—I'm in deep trouble. He was so surprised by his internal dialogue he almost missed what Amelia said next.
"But then this past summer, I thought he was having an affair. Every few nights, he would come home very late, and he wouldn't want anything to do with me. I hired a private detective, but he said Lyle was at the downtown office, alone. He gave me pictures to prove it. Lyle would just take his evening medicine, go to sleep in his office, wake up, and come home. So then I worried about his health—he's in his forties now—but he just put me off."
"Is he on medication?" asked Charlie.
"He takes something for his blood pressure. Hypertension runs in his family."
"Do you know if that was it?"
"No, I thought he took that one in the morning. What could it be?"
"Did the pictures show a bottle or anything?" Charlie persisted.
"They were taken from a neighboring building and didn't have that much detail." Her words spilled out with the speed of desperation to be believed. "Does all of this sound crazy to you?"
Damien attempted a reassuring grin and hoped he didn't have anything in his teeth. "Not at all. Is there anything else?"
"No, just please don't mention this little meeting to Lyle."
"You have our utmost discretion." Charlie gave her a business card. "If you think of anything else, please give me a call."
She rewarded Charlie with a dazzling smile. "I will. Thank you, gentlemen. I knew the two of you could be trusted—I had a good feeling about you." With that, she got to her feet, and with a nod to the waitress behind the counter, disappeared through the swinging doors into the kitchen.
"Where's she going?" Damien followed her with his eyes until the door swung shut.
"I'm guessing that her car and driver are parked back in the alley." Charlie put his notebook away and picked up his burger.
"What do you think about all that?"
Charlie took his time chewing. "We really need to get an I.D. on Ames from Nimue now, but I don't think I want to get a warrant until we know what he's up to."
"Kidnapping isn't enough?" Damien asked. "Remember, Audrey was hurt." And he still wished he could kill the bastard who had done it.
"We need to go back to the office and discuss it."
Damien's cell phone rang, and he couldn't keep from grinning at the caller I.D. Audrey.
"They're letting me out today," she said after he answered. "Can you pick me up?"
"I'll be right there." He had swung his legs to the side and had half-stood before he realized it.
"Hang on, there, Romeo," Charlie told him. "The lovely Mrs. Ames stuck us with the bill, and this place doesn't take cards. Got any cash?"
Audrey looked pale, but just as beautiful as Damien remembered. He hugged her gently and planted a kiss on her forehead. Maggie had helped her to bathe and wash her hair, and she wore fresh clothes.
Man, she smells good, like roses and lavender.
"Okay, okay, it's good to see you, too." She nudged him to let go.
He let her pull away, but he put his raincoat around her and helped her into the car since her left arm was in a sling and made her off-balance. Charlie, with proper deference, held his umbrella over Aphrodite's head.
"Maggie?" asked Charlie. She frowned at the crowded car, with Audrey, Nimue, and Aphrodite all squished into the back seat.
"I've got my car. I'll meet you there." With that, she vanished back inside the hospital.
Once they arrived at the office, Aphrodite immediately lounged upon the couch without leaving room for anyone else, and Damien had to bring in extra chairs from the education room. He was happy to see Charlie let Audrey use his desk chair, which would be more comfortable. He kept glancing at her, wondering if she needed anything or if she wanted to go home. Maggie appeared shortly after the rest of them.
"All right, Truth Seeker," challenged the goddess, "what are you doing to find my nymphs? I thought you had a lead to chase this morning."
"The guys are still working on that, Your Radiance. Working in two worlds tends to slow things down a bit."
Aphrodite exhaled through her nose. "Well, if none of you need my assistance, Nimue and I are going to go downstairs and watch the cute policemen go in and out. No, no, don't get up." She spoke over Maggie's attempts to stop her.
"Perhaps it would be wiser for you to stay here," Maggie finally got out. "At least until we can figure out how your nymphs fit into everything."
"It's warm, stuffy, and way too crowded, not to mention the ratio of men to women is much too small. If you need me, just say my name, and I'll return."
She and Nimue vanished.
"I hope no one saw that," Charlie said and closed his door.
"Don't you always make beautiful women disappear?" teased Maggie.
"Not the ones I want to stick around."
Damien sat beside Audrey, his arm draped loosely across the back of her chair, and he smiled at Maggie's blush and the answering flush in his friend's cheeks. Had Charlie fallen that hard for the Truth Seeker? Not that it would surprise Damien. Charlie was good at trying to attain the unattainable, particularly when it came to romance.
"Okay," Maggie said. With a sigh, she stood and paced the length of the small office. "Let's put togethe
r everything we know. Charlie?"
He tossed her a dry-erase marker, and she went to the white board, which normally hung half-hidden behind the open door. Everyone turned their chairs to face it.
"Our suspicious persons are…?"
"Shouldn't we call them persons of interest?" asked Audrey.
Charlie groaned. "I'm so sick of that term."
"I suspect Zeus," Damien said.
"And Lyle Ames," added Charlie.
Maggie wrote the two names at the top of the board, one on each side, and connected them with a double arrow.
"And how do we know they're interesting?"
"Their wives told us." Damien shuddered at the memory of Hera and what she'd done to Rizzo. He'd checked on his friend when he went back to the hospital, but there was no change in his condition. He wouldn't let anything like that happen to Audrey.
"It may be significant that Damien was privy to both those conversations," Audrey observed. He thrilled at hearing her say his name.
"Right, that may be important." Maggie wrote Damien in the middle of the board. "These things tend not to be coincidences in my experience."
"What?" Damien gave Audrey's good shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Are you jealous?"
She smiled but only said, "Nope. I'm a journalist, remember? I make observations."
"What else?" asked Maggie.
"Well," replied Charlie, "they're kidnapping goddesses, nymphs, and presumably other female mythological beings from the Collective Unconscious."
Maggie made a note on the board. "Right. So we need to know what they're going to use these women for. Hmmm. Do we have any knowledge as to who, exactly, is missing and to whom they're connected?"
Damien sat up straighter, a suspicion tickling the base of his skull. "More of Aphrodite's servants are missing than anyone else's. Hera told us."
Maggie dropped the dry erase marker. "And she's out there with only Nimue. What if she's the ultimate target? I'm such an idiot!"
Tangled Dreams Page 16
