Back in the garage, she cast a glance at his car. “We can take my SUV.”
“My car runs.”
“I’m sure it does, but it doesn’t look like it can handle off-road. Rural Maine isn’t Philadelphia, or Bangor, for that matter. You can do what you like. I’m taking my car.”
She had a point.
“OK,” he grumbled.
She fished in her purse. Not the skinny one she’d had earlier, but a larger, sack-like bag in brown leather. Lord, she matched them to each outfit.
At the chirp of her fob, the lights of a Porsche Cayenne blinked. Oooh.
She climbed behind the wheel. If he weren’t so worried about his brother, he would have seriously enjoyed the sweet ride.
Conor resisted sniffing the leather seat. “Tell me about May Day.”
She slipped into lecture mode the way Conor wore a broken-in pair of running shoes. “Beltane is one of the four great fire festivals that occur quarterly during the Celtic year. On the eve of Beltane, the Celts built bonfires, called Bel-fires, to honor Belenos, to celebrate the end of winter’s cold and the beginning of spring warmth. People jumped over the fires to ensure good health or luck.”
“Belenos. Isn’t that the god of fire who’s on your stolen cauldron?”
“Yes. He was a major Celtic god. Beltane Eve was also a celebration of fertility. One of the well-known symbols associated with Beltane is the maypole. Maidens would decorate it with flowers and ribbons and dance around it. Then couples would go off into the woods and, um, consummate a relationship in greenwood marriages.”
“Basically, it was a giant phallic symbol?” Conor glanced over.
Blushing, she changed lanes. Cute. “Another May Day tradition is the May Queen, who represents the maiden aspect of the Celtic triple goddess. The goddess is maiden, mother, and crone, or past, present, and future, all wrapped up into one. Beltane is all about sexuality, passion, joy, and new life. Rebirth, if you will.”
All things a dying man trying to save his only son would want. “So, this happens tomorrow, May first?”
“Actually, Beltane Eve is what is really celebrated. The festivities are usually conducted on the night of April thirtieth.”
Conor’s heart skipped. “That’s tonight.”
The ambulance pulled away. Mandy hugged Mrs. Stone. “Thank you for going with her.”
“You find Bill. I’ll take care of your mother. It’s what she would want.” The woman got into a battered sedan and followed the flashing lights down the street.
Mandy ran for the house. A few guests were milling around the foyer and parlor. She passed them without slowing. Danny followed her into the kitchen. She grabbed her knapsack from the night before and dumped it out. Jed was spreading a map on the kitchen island. Had they communicated telepathically?
“What are you doing?” he asked.
Mandy didn’t look up. She pulled another pack from the closet and started stuffing water bottles and trail mix into both. “We have to get moving.”
“What about the police?” Getting up to speed, Danny dumped his own pack and started refilling it.
“Can’t find Doug,” Jed said. “State police are on the way.”
Danny had a floodlight moment. “Maybe Lang’s the one who’s been helping Nathan.”
“That’s my guess.” Mandy tossed the emergency tent and sleeping bags aside in favor of a small rolled blanket and extra ammunition.
“We need to be gone before the police get here or we’ll be tied up for hours.” Mandy shoved a straggling piece of hair behind her ear. Wrinkled, damp, and dirty from the night in the woods, she looked a little crazy. He probably did, too.
“But won’t they be able to coordinate a better search?”
Jed added a ziplock bag of dog kibble and a plastic bowl to his pack. “Search and rescue is already gathering at the river trailhead. They’ll work from there toward the lake because that’s the hikers’ last known location.”
“If there’s anything to find on that trail, they’ll find it. No point in our repeating efforts.” Mandy tossed her pack by the door. “I’m grabbing fresh socks. Then we’re out of here.”
Danny followed suit. “Where are we going?”
Jed tapped a blue splotch on his map. “You found the camera near Lake Walker. We’ll start there. But first we’ll drop a radio at the search and rescue base in case we find something.”
“Or they do.” Mandy stuck her head through the doorway to the dining room. “Hello? Is anyone out there?” The three fishermen appeared.
“When the police get here, would you show them these?” Mandy circled the Lake’s location on the map. She took the silver camera out of her pocket and laid it on the map.
They all nodded. “Sure.”
“Thank you.” Mandy turned back.
“You’ve been fighting me all week about Nathan,” Danny said. “Why are you so sure it’s him now?”
She whirled and raced into the apartment. She returned with a rifle slung over her shoulder, pair of socks in one hand, and three envelopes in the other. The ferocity in her eyes alarmed Danny. “Go ahead. Take a look. I’ve been lying all along. You can hate me, but don’t get in my way.”
Danny slid papers out of the envelopes.
Holy shit. Pictures of Bill with threats scrawled across them—and a photo of Mandy and Nathan locked in a passionate kiss.
“When did you get these?” Betrayal sliced through him like the sharpest of blades. Not much pain yet, but the knowledge that when it came, it would be devastating.
Jed gaped. In his eyes Danny saw his own shock and betrayal reflected back at him.
Her voice went monotone. “One came the day after Nathan disappeared. The other note came the day you arrived. I got the third after you moved into the inn.”
His head whipped up. Mandy wouldn’t look at him or Jed. Her jaw jutted forward. Her lack of expression warned him that she’d mentally gone somewhere without emotion. A place where a person functioned on autopilot to get the job done. A place where there was no room for feelings or the reactions they induced. He knew because he’d been there.
And with the evidence that she’d been lying to him right in his face, he was thinking about paying that special place a visit.
Mandy snatched the photos from him, stuffed them back into the envelopes, and stomped back to the kitchen. She tossed them on the map and weighed them down with the camera.
Guess she had no reason to lie anymore. Nathan had taken Bill. She had no one to protect. In fact, she was probably blaming herself right now. Hindsight was a relentless bitch.
Mandy picked up her pack. Rifle in hand, she went out the back door. Jed shook himself like one of his retrievers and started after her. Guess he could fake it as well. The dog trotted after them.
Danny grabbed his pack and joined Mandy and Jed in the truck. He and the dog shared the backseat. How could she have lied to him all this time? Her deception burned through his gut. No woman had ever sparked such a deep response from him. Was she lying about anything else? Had everything between them been an act? How could he ever trust her again? Danny squeezed his eyes shut and banged a fist on his thigh. Now wasn’t the time. Even though Mandy had betrayed him, people were missing. Poor Bill was out there somewhere, alone and scared. The betrayal that hung between him and Mandy would have to wait. Iraq had taught him to compartmentalize with the best of them.
His phone buzzed.
Conor. “I’m on my way there. What’s going on?”
Danny filled him in. There was no one he’d rather have his back than Conor. “We’re headed to Lake Walker.”
“Don’t waste any time, Danny. Whatever is going down is happening tonight.”
“What did you find out? And say it fast. I only have one bar of cell reception, and we’re headed out of town.”
“Have you ever heard of Beltane?”
The duck boat slid into the glassy water of Lake Walker. Mandy held the bow line as Jed drove t
he truck and trailer away from the lake and parked. They piled into the bobbing craft. The dog claimed the bow, sticking her nose in the air and sniffing the air. Mandy sat up front with Honey.
“We’ll start where you found the camera.” Jed started the motor and followed the shoreline. “We’re about a half hour from the end of the trail the girls were hiking.”
Mandy hadn’t spoken in the hour since they’d left the inn. Danny and Jed had conferred on the search, but no one had mentioned her big revelation. Waves of anger and hurt wafted from both men, but Mandy shut them down. Every ounce of energy inside her was reserved for keeping her head on straight so she could find her brother.
Keeping panic at bay was her full-time occupation. She had nothing left to give.
She checked her watch. According to Danny’s brother, whatever Nathan was planning would happen tonight.
Bill was afraid of the dark.
It took another thirty precious minutes to motor over to the North River Trail exit. Jed tilted the motor, and they dragged the bow onto the shore and tied it to a tree. Honey leaped out. Whining, she ran up and down the weedy shoreline.
“She smells something she doesn’t like,” Jed said.
The dog darted up the slope toward the trees.
“So do I.” With a worried frown, Danny started after the retriever. Mandy and Jed fanned out twenty yards on each side of him.
Over the organic smells of soil and pine, a cloying scent lingered. Mandy stepped into the forest and walked past the little yellow ribbon that indicated the camera’s original position. The buzz of insects drew her deeper into the woods. Her steps were quiet on the bed of wet pine needles underfoot. Both the smell and the buzzing intensified.
Flies. There were too many flies.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Something scuffled outside the barn. Kevin startled from a doze. The double doors across from his cage slid open. He squinted against the bright light until his eyes adjusted. A dry, clean breeze swept through the barn. Kevin got his first good look outside in days. The barnyard was a large cleared square the size of an infield, made up of mostly dirt and weeds. Beyond it, a meadow rolled out for about a hundred yards before the forest took over.
Kevin focused on the barnyard. A thick pole about six feet high had been erected in the far end of the clearing. Were those ropes encircling it? Goose flesh rippled up Kevin’s arms.
He glanced at Hunter. His son was sitting next to him, cross-legged, watching the blond man with the sunken, glazed-over eyes of a wild animal in a cage. Kevin reached for his son’s shoulders, drawing him closer to lean against Kevin’s chest. He wrapped his arms around him. A shudder passed through Hunter’s frail frame. Malnourished, sedated, overwhelmed by shock and fear, the boy was shutting down.
There wasn’t a damned thing Kevin could do about it. Impotence and rage flooded him, almost but not quite obliterating the terror hammered into his bones. He was also helpless to save his son from whatever their crazed captor was planning.
Fuzziness invaded him again. He closed his eyes. Visions stampeded into his head. No! He wrenched his eyelids up. The nightmares that came during his drugged sleep were of the Saw and Silence of the Lambs variety.
He reached for the wooden post behind him and fingered the notches he’d gouged in the wood with a fingernail, one for each night he was aware they’d passed in the barn. Four. They’d been imprisoned for at least four days and nights. Movement above him reminded him they were no longer alone. A slim hand reached down through the bars next to his shoulder. Kevin grabbed it and squeezed in silent support.
The blond man walked into the barn. He glanced at Kevin with eyes that were glassy, nearly opaque, blinking away without change in expression, as if he didn’t recognize him as human. Nobody was home. Kevin’s empty stomach heaved. His captor was beyond crazy.
He approached an old black steamer trunk. He lifted the lid and removed a shiny metal object, oval in shape and discolored with age. A shield? What on earth…? Their captor carried it outside, where it gleamed dull bronze. He set it in the center of the barnyard, then returned and repeated the process with several wooden boxes. He opened one. It was full of small pieces of metal, coins perhaps, like a pirate’s treasure chest.
What did he do, rob a museum?
The truth dawned brighter than the sun outside.
My God. He was building a shrine.
A sliver of bright yellow nestled amid the brown and green weeds a few yards ahead. Mandy turned toward it, but her strides slowed. A hand stuck out from under a pile of leaves and debris.
“Oh, no.” She couldn’t stop her body from moving closer, from squatting down, from lifting the branch and revealing Ashley’s dead face. A fly landed on a milky white eye. Mandy flew backward, crashing into a tree trunk. Pain shot through her back. Oddly, its sharp bite steadied her.
Danny reached her first. He leaned over the body.
“Any idea how she died?” Jed held the agitated dog at a distance.
“Nothing obvious.” Danny shook his head. “I don’t see any blood or rips in her clothing. Her throat doesn’t look bruised. Could be a wound on her other side, but I’m not touching her.”
Mandy knew evidence, not lack of compassion, prompted Danny’s declaration.
“I’ll radio it in.” Jed reached for the walkie-talkie in his pocket. He didn’t need to say that they’d be moving on. There was nothing they could do for Ashley. “We’ll mark the location.”
Mandy straightened her wobbly knees and pressed on. They combed the surrounding area but found no sign of the other two girls. Every time Ashley’s gray, mottled face popped into Mandy’s head, she superimposed an image of her brother in its place. She’d mourn the poor girl after she found Bill.
Riding on a wave of numbness, Mandy climbed back into the boat. Danny settled in the middle. They didn’t talk or make eye contact. An almost tangible wall of deceit had risen between them. His anger at her couldn’t be greater than her own humiliation. She deserved every ounce of disgust. Being lonely was no excuse for letting Nathan manipulate her.
Jed started the engine. “Should we head north or south?”
Mandy glanced at her watch and scanned the shoreline. Four hours till dark. This decision could mean life or death for Bill and the others. It weighed on her soul like a lead mantle. Where are you, Bill?
She closed her eyes for a second and sent out a silent prayer that she wasn’t condemning her brother to death. “North. He’ll want seclusion. There are too many rental cabins at the south end. The northern terrain isn’t as friendly.”
The boat chugged through the smooth water. Mandy scanned the shoreline, looking for disturbances in the marshy reeds and thick green vegetation that edged the lake. Shadows lengthened as the sun moved across the sky.
She spotted an area of crushed reeds. “There.”
Jed nosed the boat closer. “Shallow water. We’ll have to switch to oars.”
The engine cut off. Jed tilted the propeller out of the water. Danny started rowing.
The cloying odor of decomposition hit Mandy’s nose like a blow. “No.” The word slipped out as a whispered plea.
She covered her mouth with a hand. Her eyes watered, and her gaze searched the water for the source with frantic fervor. The boat slid into the reeds. Tall stalks surrounded the boat, the hull cleaving and crushing the plants in its path the way panic trod on Mandy’s heart.
Thud.
The boat struck something.
Mandy froze. Whatever they’d hit was right below her. She leaned forward, her next breath locked deep in her lungs. She forced her eyes down.
The partially rotted carcass of a deer lay in the shallow water. Not Bill. Not another young girl. Just a deer.
Lights speckled her vision. A hand pushed her head between her knees.
“Breathe,” Danny said.
She did. Air flooded her lungs. The rush of blood faded from her ears. She lifted her head.
“L
et’s keep going.” Jed nodded toward the oars.
Danny took his seat. His eyes focused on Mandy for a second, then moved away.
She resumed her seat in the bow. Danny rowed them out of the reeds. Jed lowered the motor and started it up. The boat resumed its cruise up the shoreline.
Mandy fixed her attention back on the water’s edge. The sun dropped toward the treetops. She checked her watch. Two hours till twilight.
Honey licked her face, and Mandy wrapped an arm around the dog’s neck.
Find Bill.
“We’re too late.” Conor gripped the armrest, and they drove past three state police cruisers and turned in to the lot behind the Black Bear Inn. His belly tensed. “Wait. That’s Danny’s car.”
Dr. Hancock parked next to the Challenger.
Relief budded in his chest. “But if he was here, why didn’t he answer his fucking phone the twelve times I called?”
He bolted from the car to the inn. The doctor’s long legs kept up just fine. He jogged up the porch steps and banged on the back door.
“Conor.” The gravity in her voice stopped him. He turned.
Her porcelain complexion had faded to bleached concrete. She pointed to a pot of flowers. “That’s my cauldron.”
“Shit.” A tall, thin man stood at the door. “I’m Detective Rossi.” He shook their hands.
Conor introduced himself and Louisa. “I’m looking for my brother. Dr. Hancock is the curator for the Winston Museum of Art and Archeology.”
Dr. Hancock explained the theft to the cop.
“That’s a Celtic artifact from your museum?” Rossi asked.
“Yes,” she said.
Rossi frowned. “Let’s discuss this inside.”
Guests gathered in the parlor. The police had set up camp in the dining room.
“Where’s my brother?” The sick feeling inside Conor’s gut answered before the cop.
“We have no idea where they are. They took off before we got here.” Rossi swept a hand over a salt-and-pepper buzz cut. “It looks like your brother might have been right all along. Nathan Hall could be planning another ritual.”
Midnight Sacrifice Page 24
