Eye of the Beholder

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  He took the time to grind some of the dark-roasted beans from his precious stockpile and made himself a decent cup of coffee.

  Then he picked up the phone and dialed Phil Okuda’s number.

  Phil came on the line immediately.

  “It’s Trask.”

  “I was afraid of that,” Phil said dryly. “I still haven’t got a lead on Liz Guthrie, if that’s what you’re calling about. She’s definitely trying to hide. None of her friends have heard from her. There’s no close family. Looks like she’s using cash only, not credit cards or checks or anything else that can be traced easily.”

  “Can you find her if she’s living on cash?”

  “Sure. Just takes a little longer, that’s all.”

  “Put some extra people on it, Phil. I think we need to get to her fast.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “It’s possible that someone else is also trying to find her. I think he wants her dead. If not now, then in the very near future.”

  “Talk to the cops?” Phil asked.

  “They think she just took off for a little vacation. Anything new on Bell?”

  “Nothing that we don’t already know,” Phil said. “He looks legit. Can’t say the same for his pal, Foster Radstone, though.”

  “Is that so?” Trask settled in a chair. “What have you got on him?”

  “For starters, until he went to work for Dimensions, he used to go by the name of Fletcher Richards.”

  “Any idea why he changed his name?”

  “Probably because the Florida authorities are looking for him. In his previous career as a financial planner, he apparently bilked a bunch of senior citizens out of their life’s savings.”

  Dylan tapped a spoon against a glass to get the attention of the small crowd gathered in Café Solstice.

  “Hear ye, hear ye, this meeting of the Avalon Plaza Business Association will now come to order,” he intoned.

  Alexa glanced around, swiftly counting heads. “Joanna isn’t here yet.”

  Stewart looked up from a large tub filled with loose tea leaves that he was blending by hand. “She didn’t come in today. Left her assistant in charge of the shop. I don’t think she was feeling well.”

  “Joanna’s been acting weird for quite a while now,” Brad remarked.

  There was a rumble of assent from the other shopkeepers.

  “I’m starting to worry about her,” Margie Ferris, the proprietor of the toy shop, said. “I wonder if one of us should say something to her brother.”

  “Talk to Webster?” Dylan frowned. “I don’t know about that. Joanna wouldn’t appreciate our interference in something this personal. Besides, she and Webster are really close. If she wanted to discuss something with him, she would.”

  Margie’s expression darkened. “We can’t just ignore the fact that she may be sliding into some sort of clinical depression.”

  Alexa studied the familiar faces around her. They were all concerned, she thought. But no one could think of the next move.

  Dylan shifted slightly. “Tell you what, if you feel it’s the right thing to do, I’ll call Webster this evening after work and have a heart-to-heart talk with him. We’ve known each other for years. Maybe I can convince him that Joanna needs professional help.”

  Stewart and the others nodded quickly, relieved that someone had volunteered to take action.

  “Okay, then, that’s settled.” Dylan picked up a stack of papers. “Back to business. Alexa just gave me some handouts from the Festival Committee. You’ll find the final schedule for the downtown activities. There are no major changes for us. The shops here in the Plaza will stay open for the Gallery Walk until seven tomorrow night, as planned. Any questions?”

  Alexa listened absently to the handful of comments that followed. Her thoughts churned with images of Liz’s shadowy meditation room. The sense of gathering urgency that had been pressing down on her since she and Trask had searched Liz’s house that morning was becoming a heavy weight on her shoulders.

  When the meeting adjourned ten minutes later, she picked up her cup of tea, bid her friends a good morning and walked toward the door.

  “Should be a good day,” Brad Vasquez said as he followed her outside. “The town is jammed with tourists. This is far and away the biggest festival weekend Avalon has ever had. The opening of the new resort really gave it a boost.”

  Alexa glanced toward the door of Crystal Rainbow. “Joanna must have been feeling very unwell not to show up on what could be one of the busiest days of the year outside of the Christmas season.”

  “You can say that again. Speaking of opening up, I’d better get moving. See you when the rush is over, Alexa.”

  “Right.” She went down the walk to the door of Elegant Relic.

  In spite of the warm sunshine and the festive crowd of shoppers that consumed her morning, the sense of disquiet grew stronger.

  At eleven o’clock she picked up the phone and called Joanna’s home number. Relief shot through her when Joanna answered on the sixth or seventh ring. Her voice sounded slurred and flat.

  “Hello?”

  “Joanna? It’s Alexa. Are you okay?”

  “No sleep last night,” Joanna mumbled. “Took some more pills this morning.”

  “Do you need anything? I can stop by after work.”

  “Tea,” Joanna whispered. “I’m out of my special blend. I’d give anything for a cup.”

  “I’ll bring you some.”

  “Thanks.” There was a pause. “Alexa?”

  “Yes?”

  “Never mind. Can’t explain now. Too tired.”

  The phone clattered loudly as it was dropped back into the cradle. The line went dead.

  Two hours later there was a short lull in the tides of shoppers. Alexa stepped outside to get some iced tea for herself and Kerry.

  Café Solstice was doing a landslide business. Alexa ordered the teas and a package of Joanna’s special blend from one of the counter assistants.

  “You look like you’re swamped, Ted.”

  “We are.” Ted gave her change. “And wouldn’t you know it? The boss had to go take care of some problem at the bank. Right at the height of the noon rush.”

  “Hang in there,” Alexa said. “It will all be over on Sunday.”

  Ted grinned. “That’s what I keep telling myself.”

  Alexa picked up the Styrofoam cups and the package of Joanna’s tea and walked back to Elegant Relic. Kerry was in the process of boxing up two medium-sized gargoyles for a customer.

  Alexa waited until the transaction had been completed. Then she picked up the phone and called Joanna again.

  She counted ten rings. This time there was no answer.

  Alexa’s anxiety deepened. She wondered how many pills Joanna had taken.

  She couldn’t stand it any longer.

  She replaced the phone and looked at Kerry. “I hate to leave you alone, today of all days, but do you think you can handle things by yourself for an hour? I’m really worried about Joanna. I can’t get her on the phone. I’m going to run out to her house and see if she’s okay.”

  “No problem,” Kerry said. “I’m at my best when I’m swamped with customers. And when I know that my day off is coming.”

  Alexa glanced at the clock. “I should be back by four at the latest.”

  “I’ll be fine. Hope Joanna’s okay.”

  “I’m sure she is. See you in an hour or so.”

  Alexa collected her satchel, walked through her cluttered stock room, and went out the rear door into the alley.

  In the parking lot she found her Camry, opened the door, and removed the reflective sun shield from the inside of the front window.

  She had been invited to Joanna’s house in the hills on several occasions. The trip took less than twenty minutes. She spent the entire time telling herself to calm down, that nothing was wrong, that Joanna was just feeling a little blue because Guthrie’s accident had brought back sad memori
es.

  But as she drove the winding road up into the hills above Avalon her unease sharpened with every mile. Maybe she should have come out here earlier.

  Joanna’s home had been designed by the same architect responsible for the Dimensions Institute. It was all sleek angles and planes of glass. From its isolated hillside perch it commanded a sweeping view of the town and the rust-red landscape beyond. There were no close neighbors. Joanna had always treasured her privacy.

  The first thing Alexa saw when she pulled into the drive was a Lexus. That answered one question, at any rate. Joanna was home.

  She got out of the Camry, walked across the wide deck to the front door, and rang the bell.

  When she did not get an answer, she pounded loudly on the wooden panels.

  “Joanna, it’s me, Alexa. Please open the door. I’m worried about you.”

  She waited for a response. The desert silence closed in around the house. When it became clear that Joanna was not going to respond, she walked around to the kitchen windows and peered inside.

  Joanna lay crumpled on the tile floor. The folds of a turquoise blue terry cloth robe swirled around her. A bottle of pills sat on the counter. An empty mug and a small package of tea bearing the Café Solstice label sat next to it. Joanna had evidently found some of her special blend in her cupboard, after all.

  “Joanna.”

  Alexa rushed to the kitchen door. It was locked. For a few seconds she thought wildly about smashing a window. Then she remembered that this was the same Joanna who hid her spare shop key beneath a flower pot outside the door of Crystal Rainbow.

  She glanced around. Sure enough, there was a large flowering cactus cradled in a heavy terra cotta pot near the door.

  She found the key beneath the pot, shoved it into the lock, and twisted the knob.

  The sulfurous, rotten-egg smell of gas wafted through the opening. She recalled Joanna telling her that she’d installed a gas tank when she’d put in a new range. The gas company had not yet run any lines out to this sparsely populated neighborhood.

  “Dear God. Joanna.”

  She threw the door open, took a deep breath of fresh air, and dashed inside. How much gas did it take to create a danger of explosion? she wondered. She knew very little about the hazards of a gas leak. Her own home was all electric.

  She seized Joanna by the ankles and heaved with all of her strength. Joanna wasn’t much heavier than Dancing Satyr. Alexa got her out into the fresh air on the deck.

  “Joanna, please don’t be dead.”

  Frantically she searched for a pulse and felt lightheaded with relief when she found a weak one.

  “Joanna, can you hear me? Talk to me. What happened? Did you fall?”

  Joanna groaned. Her hand twitched, but her eyes did not open. “Don’t let them get me. Please. Help me.”

  The panic in Joanna’s slurred voice sent another jolt of fear through Alexa. “Don’t move. I’m going to call for help.” She looked around for the satchel she had dropped a moment earlier, found it, and retrieved her cell phone.

  “Alexa?” Joanna’s lashes fluttered. “What’re you doing here?”

  “It’s okay.” Alexa stabbed the emergency number. “Help is on the way.”

  “Too late.” Joanna gave up the attempt to open her eyes. “Too late. The monsters.”

  The 911 operator was rattling off a string of questions in Alexa’s ear. She tried to concentrate on answering them.

  “No, I don’t know what happened.” Alexa glanced back into the kitchen. “There’s gas inside the house. We’re outside. I’ve got the door open now. I see a bottle of pills.”

  “Any idea what kind of drugs?”

  “Prescription stuff. Tranquilizers, I think. She said something about taking some earlier.”

  “The medics are on the way. Try to keep her awake and alert until they get there. Better not go back inside the house.”

  “Right.” Alexa disconnected. She leaned anxiously over Joanna. “Tell me what happened.”

  “Monsters.” Joanna’s lashes fluttered again in sudden agitation. “It’s with the monsters.”

  “What’s with the monsters?”

  “Get them away from me. Do something. They’re going to kill me. Get them away.”

  “Joanna, listen to me, you’re hallucinating. There’s nothing here.”

  “I can see them.” Joanna’s voice was shrill with terror now. She moved one hand in an ineffectual gesture apparently designed to fend off some unseen horrors. “Stop them. Please, make them go away.”

  Alexa clasped Joanna’s hand very tightly. “I won’t let them get you, I promise.”

  Joanna blinked rapidly and then, suddenly, disconcertingly looked up at Alexa with dazed, frightened eyes. “I’m sorry. Couldn’t think of anything else. I was so afraid.”

  “Afraid of what?”

  “That it was happening all over again.” Joanna closed her eyes. “And it is. It is, don’t you see?”

  “What’s happening?”

  Joanna writhed and clawed at the air. “They’re eating me. Make them stop.”

  Alexa heard a siren in the distance. She tightened her grip on Joanna’s hand. “I won’t let them hurt you, Joanna.”

  “Promise?” Tears leaked out of the corners of Joanna’s eyes.

  “I promise.” Alexa heard a car pull into the drive. “The ambulance is here, Joanna. You’re going to be fine.”

  Joanna moaned. “I’m sorry. I was desperate. Couldn’t think of anything else to do. I’m sorry.”

  Someone knocked loudly. Alexa jumped to her feet.

  “We’re back here,” she shouted. “On the deck.”

  “Don’t forget.” Joanna stared bleary-eyed up at Alexa. “The monsters. Be careful. Be very careful.”

  “I’ll be careful,” Alexa said soothingly.

  Two medics swept past her, efficient and businesslike. It was only then that she saw who else had arrived.

  “Trask. What are you doing here?”

  “We had an agreement, remember?” His face was set in stark lines. “You weren’t supposed to go off on your own.”

  “I could have sworn that rule applied only to nights. Besides, I wasn’t exactly alone. I was with Joanna.”

  “This is not a good time to discuss the fine points of this partnership. I’m not in what you might call an expansive mood. What the hell is going on?”

  “An interesting question.”

  He paused and then glanced through the open door. “Is that gas?”

  “I think so.” Alexa watched the medics as they moved around Joanna. “She recently had a gas range installed. Something must have gone wrong.”

  Half an hour later Trask picked up the phone on the table next to the sofa in Joanna’s living room. The smell of rotten eggs was gone now. He’d shut off the gas at the outside tank. All of the windows and doors stood wide open.

  He glanced at the number in the phone book he had just consulted. His call was answered on the second ring.

  “The Dimensions Institute.” The voice was warm, welcoming, filled with peace and serenity. “May I help you?”

  “This is Trask. Avalon Resorts, Inc.” He did not infuse his voice with any peace and serenity. “Get Webster Bell on the line.”

  There was a short, startled pause. Trask glanced at Alexa. She was standing at the window watching the ambulance drive off toward town.

  “I’m very sorry, Mr. Trask, but Mr. Bell is unavailable at the moment. He’s giving a seminar. We never interrupt him when he’s teaching.”

  “Get him,” Trask said. “Now.”

  “Uh, one moment please.”

  The receptionist put her hand over the receiver. Trask heard her speak to someone else. She sounded stressed.

  She came back on the line a few seconds later. “Please hold, Mr. Trask.”

  Another voice came on the line. “This is Foster Radstone. What seems to be the problem, Trask?”

  “The problem,” Trask said
deliberately, “is that I just watched two medics load Joanna Bell into the back of an ambulance.”

  “Joanna?” Shock disturbed Foster’s cushioned tones. “Are you certain? What’s wrong? Is she—-?”

  “She’s alive, if that’s what you’re asking. Barely. Get Bell.”

  “Yes, of course. Hold on a moment.”

  There was another short silence before Webster Bell picked up the phone. Trask realized that Foster had not hung up. He was still on the line, listening.

  “What’s this about Joanna?” Webster asked urgently. “Is she all right?”

  “She’s on her way to the hospital,” Trask said. “Alexa Chambers found her here at her house. It looks like she took some tranquilizers and there was a problem with her new gas system. She’s hallucinating, but she’s alive and partially conscious. The medics said that was a good sign.”

  “My God,” Webster whispered. “She didn’t… That is, they don’t think it was deliberate, do they?”

  “I don’t know,” Trask said quietly.

  “I knew she was under stress, but I had no idea that she… Never mind. Foster? Are you still on the line? I’ve got to get to the hospital.”

  Foster answered in soothing tones. “I’ll drive you, Webster. We can be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “Yes. All right. I’ll meet you at the car.”

  There was a click as Webster hung up his extension, but the phone did not go dead. Foster spoke once more.

  “Trask? Did you say Alexa found Joanna?”

  “Yes.” Trask watched Alexa turn away from the open window. She looked at a stack of magazines on the end table. The sudden stiffening in her shoulders was visible from across the room.

  “Where is she?” Foster asked.

  “Alexa? She’s here with me.”

  “You’re both at Joanna’s place?”

  “That’s right.”

  On the other side of the room, Alexa finally moved. She walked toward the pile of magazines as if drawn by magnets. When she reached the table she leaned down and picked up the glossy journal on top of the heap.

  “I don’t understand,” Foster said. “How did Alexa happen to find her?”

  “Long story. Hadn’t you better get moving? Bell said he’d meet you at the car.”

  “Yes. Right. I’ve got to go. But if you’re at Joanna’s house…”