Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Wrath of Isis

by P. T. Dilloway

  “I had to. Growing up, she was always like my big sister. She protected me from the other kids when they teased me for the color of my skin. I had to find her.” She snuck a glance to see Sue was eating this up. “She got off here, but no one saw her get on another train. I’ve been calling hotels, but it’s hard because most of my money I spent to come here. No one has seen her. I think she might be using another name.”

  “What does she look like?”

  “She’s very pale with red hair and blue eyes. Much taller than me—more like your height. She’s so beautiful, I worry what could happen to her in a place like this.”

  “I know what you mean.” Sue patted Cecelia’s back again. “I’ll help you find her.”

  “You will?”

  “Sure. I have some old friends left from my younger days who are good at that sort of thing. I can ask them.”

  Cecelia threw her arms around Sue’s neck to hug her. “Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!” There was of course a pretty good chance that Earl wasn’t here or that like Cecelia she inhabited someone else’s body, so that she could be anyone: an old woman, a man, or even a baby. But maybe Cecelia would get lucky and if Earl was here, she might slip up and give her real name to someone. It was better than nothing.

  Sue helped her onto her feet and said, “Let’s get you to bed and I’ll start making some calls. All right?”

  “All right,” Cecelia said with appropriate meekness. “You’ve been so kind to me. I don’t know how I can repay you.”

  “If we find your friend alive and well, that’ll be all the thanks I need.”

  Cecelia slipped out of her dress, into a lavender nightgown Agnes Chiostro had given her with the other dresses. Sue helped her settle onto the bed and gave her one last pat on the back before she slipped out of the room to find a phone. Cecelia waited until she heard the door close before she allowed herself to smile.

  Chapter 19

  Louise couldn’t stifle a yawn. She hadn’t slept in two days. She spent her days at the funeral home, florist, insurance company, and in court. The latter was not Dan’s intention. According to his will, Emma Earl was supposed to have been the executor of his estate, but with her in the hospital, the job fell to Louise. This was a relatively recent provision, signed last year when Louise came of age. At the time she’d thought little of it; Dan had seemed so healthy.

  Now he was dead. The cook had found him in the wine cellar, propped against a wall. More gruesome was that his heart had been cut open and the organ removed. The heart remained missing, most likely kept as a trophy by the killer.

  His death was only the beginning. When Louise got time to check out the news, she heard of at least two-dozen identical killings around the city. The press was quick to look back nearly twenty-five years to the infamous Heartbreaker Killings. Those had been pinned on Mom, which had ruined her initial tour of duty at the Plaine Museum, though no charges were ever filed against her. This time Mom was in the hospital, paralyzed, so no one could pin this new slate of murders on her.

  Louise spent her nights at the hospital with Mom thanks to Dr. Pavelski, who had cleared the extended visitor’s hours for Louise. All night she sat in an uncomfortable chair to watch her mother sleep, while unable to do the same herself. Instead, she wondered if her mother might have been the first victim of the Second Heartbreaker Killer if Aggie and Renee hadn’t shown up at the museum when they did.

  Though she didn’t know how, she knew the crimes were connected. Mom and Dan both worked at the Plaine Museum and they had spent a lot of time together. And they were her parents—one actual and one surrogate. The connections were too strong for it to be a coincidence.

  Mom was still on pain medication, though not nearly as much as when she first arrived. Still, she spent most of her time asleep. Dr. Pavelski joked Mom was finally catching up on all the sleep she’d missed since childhood. Louise didn’t share in the joke; she knew her mother’s lethargy was a very bad sign.

  During those few moments when she was awake, Mom didn’t shed much light on the topic of who had attacked her. “I didn’t see their faces,” she told Amanda Murdoch and Louise. “They were wearing masks.”

  “Did they say what they wanted?” Amanda asked.

  “No, but there are plenty of valuable objects in the museum.”

  “You think it was a robbery?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Come on, Amanda, let her rest,” Becky said. Then the fat cow had shooed away the detective and Louise. To the latter, she said, “You should get some rest too, kid.”

  “Don’t call me that. I’m not a kid anymore and I’m definitely not your kid.”

  “Lou—”

  “Don’t call me that either!” Louise worked up a Glare that would have made her mother proud if she hadn’t used it on Mom’s best friend. “I’m Dr. Earl to you, understand?”

  “I understand.”

  While she waited at court, Louise had searched the public records for information on Congresswoman Beech. She was another connection between Mom and Dan, the former’s childhood friend and the latter’s longtime lover. Though it was well-established Becky had been in Washington when Mom was attacked, that didn’t mean she couldn’t have hired some muscle for the job; in Rampart City that was easy enough to find. As for Dan, she could have done that one herself. She certainly had motive enough after the way she’d left and her refusal to come back.

  Louise found one large inaccuracy in Becky’s story: her supposed redeye flight from DC after Aggie called her. After a search through FAA records, with a few tricks she’d picked up in college, Louise determined Becky hadn’t been aboard any plane that had left the Washington area near the time indicated.

  She didn’t pass her suspicions on to Amanda; it was far too early for that. She would continue to snoop around on her own. The only problem came in the form of her best friend and her semi-psychic abilities. After the shortened police interview, Renee had waited for Louise in the waiting room. “She didn’t do it,” Renee said.

  “Who?”

  “Becky. She didn’t do that.”

  “Maybe not personally.”

  “There are three people in the world Becky would never hurt: Dr. Dreyfus, your mother, and you.”

  “She hurt us plenty already.”

  “Not like that.”

  “Then who do you think did it?”

  “That girl we saw at the Brass Drum. The one who said she was Dr. Dreyfus’s daughter.”

  “Eileen.” Louise had seen the woman at the funeral home. She was dressed all in black and cried even more than Louise.

  “My parents. Both are gone now,” Eileen wailed.

  The only problem with Renee’s theory was that Eileen had an alibi for the time when Dan was believed to have been murdered. A young man had come forward to say he and Eileen were making love in the backseat of his car at that time. It was the same young man with the curly blond hair Renee had said would be perfect for Louise. Now she definitely knew it wouldn’t have worked out with him.

  She had two suspects, but not a strong case on either. She didn’t really have time for any hardcore detective work at the moment, not with so much to do. Dan’s funeral would be held tomorrow and a day after that she would have to go to court for the will to be read. Dan didn’t have any close relatives left, but he did have numerous cousins and his godfather Roy Lintner, a disgraced city councilman, all of whom wanted to get their hands into the Dreyfus family pie. Eileen could have made a claim to the estate if she took a paternity test, but she had refused.

  “I didn’t want his money. Only his love,” she said.

  Louise knew it would be two more sleepless days—at least. She didn’t care, not now. She had to be there for Dan and her mother right now. For most of her life she’d wanted to be treated like an adult and now that time had come. She only wished it was under better circumstances.

  “Hi,” Mom whispered, her eyes suddenly open.

  Louise leaned forward in
her chair and put a hand on Mom’s cheek, one of the few places still not covered by a bandage. “Hi yourself. Do you need anything?”

  “Some tea would be nice.”

  “I can go down to the cafeteria—”

  “No, it’s fine. Water will do.”

  Louise took the cup of water from the nightstand and held it up to her mother’s lips. Mom still had feeling in her hands, but the wounds in her shoulders made it difficult for her to move her arms. She took a sip of water and then spit the straw out. “Thank you.”

  During these moments when Mom was awake, Louise was never sure what to say. There was no point to ask Mom how she felt or if she felt any better—the answers to these were obvious. No one had told her yet about Dan’s death, so as not to upset her when she was already in such sorry shape. Nor did anyone mention the Second Heartbreaker Killings for the same reason.

  Instead, Louise kept her mother abreast with happenings at the Plaine Museum. “Megan thinks the damage wasn’t too bad to areas outside Egyptology. Just a few doors and windows.”

  “What about Alex?”

  “Paleontology is working on it. Dr. Ross thinks they should be able to put him together again, but they might have to replace a few bones—”

  “No. They either fix him completely or not at all.”

  “Mom—”

  “He’s not just an exhibit.” There had been a push eight years ago to remove Alex the mastodon from the main gallery, to replace him with something more modern like a robotic dinosaur. As with the garden, Mom had flatly refused. According to Dan, she had fixed the board with The Glare and said, “Alex stays or I go.” And that was it. Mom was far too good of an administrator for them to lose.

  As with the garden, Louise didn’t understand Mom’s connection with the mastodon then or now. There were plenty of mastodon skeletons in the world, some bigger and others older. Why risk her livelihood for it? “I’ll tell them, Mom.”

  “Alex is why I became a scientist,” Mom said with tears in her eyes. “He’s not just a bunch of old bones. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” Then, as she always did before she fell asleep, Mom asked, “Did you talk to Aggie yet? It’s not safe for you here.”

  “She’s working on it. Things are a little hectic right now.” In fact, Louise had not talked to Aggie about anything because no one had seen her since Dan died. Renee said Aggie had gone to visit Akako, who was currently in Ireland, and that she’d be back soon.

  “If she can’t find a place, go to the sewers.”

  “The sewers?”

  “Tell him I sent you. He’ll help you.”

  “Who?” She didn’t receive an answer as her mother had gone back to sleep. Louise stroked her mother’s hair and then returned to her chair to continue the vigil.

  ***

  When she’d come back with Aggie, Becky knew Louise would be angry with her. Louise had been a little girl at the time Becky left, too young to understand why Becky had to leave and why she couldn’t come back. While she had waited in a coffee shop a block away to make her appearance, Becky tried to imagine how their reunion might go. Most of her scenarios were far from positive; she imagined Louise would slap her or maybe give her one of Emma’s spin kicks or just spit on her.

  What she hadn’t prepared herself for was the icy glare and even colder shoulder. Louise had clearly picked up that stare from her mother, who despite her shyness and soft-spoken nature could be a very tough customer when push came to shove—as Rampart City’s criminals had found out the hard way. That made it all the more heartbreaking for Becky when she entered the waiting room to find Louise huddled beside Renee.

  Becky put a hand on Louise’s back and said, “I’m so sorry.”

  Louise looked up and gave her that glare. “You came back.”

  “I did, as soon as I heard.”

  “You’re only about twelve years too late.”

  “Louise—”

  “I don’t want to talk about this right now. Mom could die, in case you didn’t realize it.”

  Becky had nodded and found a seat she could squeeze into next to Aggie. The witch took Becky’s hand. “She’ll come around,” Aggie whispered.

  Becky didn’t know about that. From seven years with Louise, she knew the girl had a stubborn streak a mile wide. When Becky had sent her to her room for refusing to eat broccoli, three-year-old Louise hadn’t spoken to her for two entire days. It wasn’t until Emma intervened that the child finally ended the strike.

  For a moment Becky had allowed herself to feel a surge of hope when Dr. Pavelski said Emma was awake and that while she might be paralyzed, she would survive. Then Amanda Murdoch pulled Becky aside, her face ashen. “I thought you should be the first to know,” Amanda said. “They found Dr. Dreyfus’s body.”

  “His body? You mean—”

  “He’s dead. I’m sorry.”

  Becky had cried on Aggie’s shoulder the rest of the night. It was worse than her nightmares—first Emma crippled and now Dan dead. The two people she loved the most in the world. “Why is this happening?” she bawled into Aggie’s shoulder.

  No matter how many times the witch tried to tell her it wasn’t her fault, Becky couldn’t help but blame herself. If she’d stayed here, with Emma and Dan, this wouldn’t have happened. She could have been there to protect Dan from whoever had killed him. As for Emma, if Becky had been around, she could have convinced Emma not to work so late. This didn’t seem likely, not with Emma, but Becky knew she could have done something.

  In the morning, after her tears finally dried up, Aggie took her into a supply closet. “They’re going to need you now, Rebecca. They need you to be strong.”

  There was no question who Aggie meant. Both Dr. Earls needed her at this moment. They needed her to be the surrogate mother she always had been. “I’m not sure I can anymore.”

  “You have to. Times are going to be very trying for both of them. You can’t let them give up. Not now. It’s too important.”

  “What about you?”

  “I have to go to the coven. I fear this is the beginning of something really terrible.”

  “You know who did this?”

  “I’m fairly certain.” Aggie put a hand on Becky’s shoulder. “Take care of Renee for me until I get back. Whatever you do, don’t let her use her power. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Aggie gave her a kiss on each cheek. “Goodbye, dear.” Becky closed her eyes before the witch vanished in a flash of light.

  As the oldest of their little makeshift family, Becky had tried to take charge of the situation. When Amanda came in to interview Emma, Becky forced her to leave before she asked too many questions; in that regard Amanda was far too much like her mentor, Lottie Donovan. Becky asked Louise to leave as well. The ensuing cold exchange had left Becky on the verge of tears again.

  She sank down in the chair Louise had vacated and buried her head in her hands. She was out of practice at being a mother hen. More than that, the gap between her and Louise had grown too wide in the last twelve years. In Congress she might be known for getting things done, but here she was completely impotent, just a fat waste of space.

  “Becky?” Emma whispered.

  Becky looked up to see Emma’s eyes open. “I’m here, kid. Are you feeling some pain? I can get the nurse—”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  She certainly didn’t look fine, but Becky wasn’t about to argue that point. “Do you want some more water?”

  “No. Becky, listen. I’m sorry about what happened.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. I’m the one who went there alone.”

  “If I’d known—”

  “Not even the Scarlet Knight can be everywhere.”

  “I failed you. I failed everyone.”

  “Emma, don’t be ridiculous. You didn’t fail anyone.”

  “She’s going to die. Everyone’s going to die because I didn’t stop her.” />
  “Who?”

  “Isis.”

  “But she’s dead. You said she died when she ate your heart.”

  “She can’t die. She’s a goddess.”

  “And she did this to you?”

  Emma shook her head slightly. “The Dragoons did it. But she made them.”

  “Them? But there’s only been one before.”

  “She made three of them. I couldn’t stop them.” Tears dripped from Emma’s eyes. “Now they’re going to kill her.”

  “Who?”

  “Louise. She’s going to take my place and they’re going to kill her.” Emma’s eyes fluttered for a moment; this was the longest she’d stayed awake since she’d come out of surgery. “Promise me you won’t let her do it.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Don’t try! Do it!” Emma turned her head slightly to wipe her eyes on the pillow. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right, kid.” Becky wiped the remaining tears from Emma’s cheeks. Emma closed her eyes and fell asleep again.

  Becky remained in the chair, where she noticed how old her best friend looked, old and tired. For most of her life, Emma had always looked so young; even when she was thirty-two they still checked her ID if she bought a bottle of wine. Becky knew it was more than just the late hours as the Scarlet Knight and her job at the museum that had done this; it was Becky’s departure that had caused Emma to age so rapidly; the imagined guilt at not being able to save Becky and the added stress of raising Louise alone had sapped the youthfulness from her body.

  She could understand why Emma would be so adamant that Louise not follow in her footsteps. To be the Scarlet Knight was a terrible burden, one Becky had experienced for about a week while she had inhabited Emma’s body. She was glad to give it up after that week, but Emma had gone on for another twenty years; she had soldiered on night after night until now she looked old and used-up, her body crippled. It wasn’t the fate she had deserved; it wasn’t the fate Louise deserved either.

  “I won’t let her do it,” Becky said. “I promise.”

  ***

  The house was smaller than the one Becky and Emma had shared in the historical district. It was slightly newer, from the late 1920s, with a sort of farmhouse style to it that was out of place in the middle of the city, though perhaps this had some appeal to Emma, who had been raised in the suburbs. As director of the Plaine Museum, she had enough money to keep the house in good shape, so that the paint was still bright white and the shutters dark green, with what appeared to be a fairly recent layer of shingles. In all it seemed like a very nice home for a middle-aged woman and her grown daughter to live.