Читать книгу Midnight Lover - Rosemary Laurey - Страница 7

It was heavy dusk by the time Toby reached the outskirts of the small town. Quiet and peaceful, a knot of tourists sitting out on the front porch of the Kountry Kitchen, the town looked like something out of a tourist brochure, until he drove through the town and saw Adela’s vandalized car parked beside the little house. She hadn’t told the half of it: The slashed tires were just the beginning. The windshield had been smashed and some noxious substance poured all over the bonnet. Someone wanted Adela grounded.

As he parked and walked over to inspect the damage, Toby glimpsed a shadow at the window and a flicker of a curtain. He didn’t blame her being cautious. Down at the end of a dirt road, a good hundred meters or more from the nearest neighbor, she should have been safe and unbothered. Instead…

“Toby?” She called from the half-open door. “Thank the goddess!”

At the panic in her voice, he crossed the front lawn in seconds and was inside the house, pulling the door closed behind him. “I’m here and you’re going to be gone in a jiffy.” The change in her was shocking. Gone was the confident, almost defiant woman he’d met a month or so earlier.

She backed away from him and slumped down on a chair. “I feel foolish calling you like an idiot, but afterward, I was so glad I did. This last thing freaked me out.”

“The car being vandalized? I saw what they’d done. Tires was just the beginning.”

She shook her head. “No, worse than that. I almost upchucked when I saw it on the back porch.” She looked pale enough to do just that, right here and now.

“What the hell happened, Adela?” Witch she might be, but she was a terrified woman and needed help.

She shook her head. “Just fifteen minutes ago. I went out to fill up the bird feeders before I left and…” She swallowed, and a shudder shook her shoulders. “It was horrible, and heck, they think I’m doing that sort of thing!”

“Doing what, Adela?”

She got herself together with effort. “I can’t bear to look at it again. I should have dragged it away and at least buried it but…” She stood up. “Look, I need a cup of tea. Mind waiting while I get one? Then we’ll go.”

Why not? “Go ahead. I’ll have a look at what bothered you so.” Might give him a clue to the perpetrators. Harassing a defenseless woman—perhaps not totally defenseless, but she was alone—was unacceptable in his book. “Out the back, you said?”

She nodded. “On the path below the back porch steps, look…” She met his eyes. “It’s nasty, but I suppose blood doesn’t bother you quite as much as it does me.”

Not usually, but this did. The bloody, mangled remains of a large dog lay on the cracked concrete. It had been dead when dumped. There had been no bleeding, at least not here, but…Toby crouched down to look closer. It had been a shaggy, long-limbed sheep dog sort of cross. The throat being ripped out must have killed it. He guessed the leg had been torn off afterward, and at some point, something had ripped open the animal’s gut and now flies buzzed over the spilled entrails.

No wonder it turned Adela’s stomach. He tamped down the anger at the unknown person who’d dumped this here. And who—or rather what—in the name of Abel had so mangled the creature’s carcass?

He noticed the stench right away. Not the sick, sweet smell of a freshly killed corpse, but the rank, foul stench of…He had no idea, but it was a definite clue to something. From the corner of his eye he noticed the note tucked under a rock. The message was clear and to the point. “First it kills my hens, then my dog. You called this creature up, witch. You have it coming. We’ve all had enough.” Underneath was the aforementioned Bible verse.

The devil wasn’t the only one who could quote scripture for his own purposes. Leaving the dog on the path—he’d bury it later—Toby went back into the house, note in hand. Adela looked up from opening a tin of tea bags. “You saw it?”

He nodded. “And I found this.” He handed her the note.

She glanced at it and shook her head. “They blame me for it coming. Hell, I didn’t bring it. I’ve never even seen it.”

“Seen what?” Shock made mortals more obtuse than usual.

She snapped the lid back on the tin and dropped a tea bag into a mug before looking straight at him. “You believe mythical creatures can be real?”

“Since I’m one of those mythical creatures, yes.”

She let out a dry chuckle. “Should have anticipated that, shouldn’t I?” She shook her head, moved the mug to the side of the stove and pulled out a bentwood chair. “Have a seat. This will take a minute and might just test your ability to suspend disbelief.”

That he doubted. He might be young by vampire standards, but he could give her a century and a good bit more. He took the chair. “Go on.”

“Have you ever heard of a chupacabra?”

So far she was winning. He shook his head. “What is it?”

She got up as the kettle boiled, and filled the mug. “What I believed to be a mythical creature or the product of a deranged imagination but”—she sat back down, clasping the mug in both hands—“it’s a vicious creature. I’ve done a fair bit of research since the trouble first started. Seems they come from Central America and Mexico. One was supposedly seen in Kalamath Falls a year or so back. They hide out in caves and holes, savage animals, and generally cause mayhem in quiet rural parts.”

Was that the rank smell he’d noticed? Perhaps. “And you’ve seen one here? One killed that dog?”

She sipped the tea and put the mug down. Had to be too hot for a mortal palate. “I haven’t seen it to know if it exists, but people ’round here claim to have. And yes, they believe it responsible for the recent killings of animals.” She paused, looking at the steaming liquid—mint, by the smell wafting up. “They also”—she looked up, a frown between her eyes—“are convinced it’s my familiar.”

“What?”

She nodded. “My familiar. No black cats or toads in these parts. I supposedly have a creature I’d never heard of until I came here. They think I brought it with me, or summoned it, and that I send it out to savage livestock!”

If animals were being found in the same condition as that poor hound, he understood the locals’ anxiety, but…“Why blame you?”

She shrugged. “Why not? I’m a newcomer and I made the grave mistake of being open about my calling.” She picked up the mug and sipped. “I promised Gertrude I’d take care of her house. So far, I’ve had flower pots smashed, windows broken, shrubs vandalized and now her car is ruined. It’s just too…” She jumped as the front door bell rang. “Who the hell is that?”

One way to find out. “I’ll see. You stay here. If they try any funny tricks with me…”

She gave a wry smile. “Thanks.”

It was a sheriff’s deputy, all official and self-important with his star and gun belt and sweat circles under his arms. Toby rather enjoyed the man’s shock at seeing a tall black man instead of a slender white woman.

“What are you doing here? I came to see Mrs. Whyte.”

“I’m visiting Mrs. Whyte. She asked me to come after the unsettling incident today.”

“Yes, well.” He glanced across at the damaged vehicle. “It’s about that that I came.”

At least the local law were on top of things. “Come in. She’s in the kitchen.” Toby stood aside as the man ambled over the threshold, hands on his belt. A big mistake, to judge by the look on Adela’s face as he walked into the kitchen. She stood, lips tight and eyes hard.

“Officer Johnson,” she said, obviously not relieved the law had arrived.

“You had more trouble up here, Mrs. Whyte, I notice. How come you didn’t call me?”

Her chin lifted. “I decided not to bother you.”

“Major damage, by the look of things. Should have been reported.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Her voice took on a deceptively casual note, vastly different from a few minutes earlier.

“How come, Mrs. Whyte?” He stood, legs apart, one hand on the butt of his gun.

“Well, Officer, as your colleague said after the broken windows and the shed catching fire, out here it’s impossible to keep track of things. I decided you were right and left the insurance to handle it.”

Toby’s senses went on alert. The local law had brushed off earlier troubles, had it? What now?

“Well, I heard about it. Saul Grady told me about his bird dog being savaged. Valuable dog, it was too.”

“Did he tell you where he dumped it, Officer?” Toby asked.

The interruption was patently unwelcome. “That’s not what I’m here about. A valuable dog was killed and I was asked to investigate. We all know that Mrs. Whyte brought that creature with her and we’ve had enough of it.” He shifted his hips and drew his shoulders back. “I need you to come downtown with me and answer a few questions, Mrs. Whyte.”

Enough was enough! One glance at Adela’s rigid shoulders and Toby spoke. “Officer?” The man turned to scowl at him. It was enough. Toby caught and held eye contact. “Officer, there is no need for Mrs. Whyte to accompany you. She is the victim here. Go back and leave her in peace.” He nearly added “unless you can do your job and protect her,” but no point in overloading a possibly small mind with too much detail.

The man blinked. “Right. I don’t need her to accompany me. She’s the victim.” He blinked again. “I’ll see you later,” he said and turned toward the front door.

Toby made sure it was wide open for him and watched as he drove away down the dusty road. The antagonistic law disposed of, he returned to the kitchen, where Adela sat, wide-eyed with shock.

“I’ve heard about vampire hypnotism,” she said, her voice definitely wobbling, “but never imagined…”

“I did not hypnotize him!” Drat her and her superstition and half-knowledge. “I merely suggested an alternative course of action.” Shocked she might be, but still…“You didn’t want to go with him, did you?”

“Hell, no!” She caught a breath. “Please don’t get me wrong. I am utterly appreciative of your intervention, just astounded and amazed.” She shuddered. “I didn’t fancy a night in the local jail with just Deputy Johnson for company.”

“There’s something not right here.” Even a mortal could have worked that out. “You need to get away fast, in case my suggestion fades and that sweaty oaf of an apology for law enforcement returns.” He reached into his pocket for his keys. “Take my car and go to Devil’s Elbow. The sooner you’re out of here the better.”

She actually looked ready to argue but closed her mouth and nodded. “What about you?”

“I don’t need a car to get back and I want to look around and see if I can find this mythical creature of yours. If he—it—is what’s causing this, he’d best be taken care of.”

“I’m not even sure he exists. I haven’t seen it.”

“I smelled it. There’s something there. I’ll try to find its trail.”

“It’s going to be dark in less than an hour.”

“I can see in the dark, Adela.”

Had to be a mark of her exhaustion and stress that she merely nodded. “I need to pack something.”

“Skip it! I think time is of the essence here. Whatever you need we can find or send someone out to buy.”

“At least I’m packing a toothbrush.” And, he noticed, the bowls and candles from the mantelpiece. Her sacred vessels, no doubt. Oh well, if Tom Kyd could take a witch as his partner, he, Toby, could at least give one shelter. He’d concede she was fast. Fifteen minutes later, she had a zip bag packed and his car keys in her hand.

“Sure you’ll be okay?” she asked.

He had to smile. “I imagine I will be. Just be certain that you leave Piet’s old study window wide open. I’ll fly back through there.”

“I see.” He hoped she didn’t. He much preferred transmogrifying in private. “I’ll call the night nurse and tell her you’re coming. You know your way around the house. If I have news, I’ll tell you in the morning.” He followed her to the door. “Just one more thing, a favor if you would.” He reached into his pocket for his wallet. “Mind taking this with you? Just leave it on my desk.”

She stared. “Okay, but why?”

Some things just had to be spelled out to mortals. “I don’t mind leaving clothes behind when I shift, but I don’t want to leave my credit cards and license, and if you’d also take my watch”—he pulled the metal band over his hand—“I’d be most obliged.”

She shoved both into her handbag and nodded. “Sure you’ll be okay?”

“Of course. You need to get away safely. You don’t want to be here if that officer decides to come back.”

She didn’t hang around to disagree.

Once she was gone, he called Laura Fox, the night nurse. He asked her, as a favor, to make sure the largest guest room was ready, adding that he was unlikely to be back much before morning.

That done, Toby went out through the back porch and sniffed the air around the very dead dog.

Laura could not believe her luck. An unexpected overnight visitor was a complication, but the guest rooms were at the other end of the house from her patient’s suite and if Mr. Wise was going to be gone all night, she’d be able to have a good snoop around. Assuming she could stifle her conscience.

Why did Dad always put her on the spot? Okay, like any good newspaper man, he was on the lookout for a good story, but really he and his new partner, Axel Radcliffe, were getting obsessed about Piet Connor and his company. First she had to get a job working in the house, then report about Mr. Connor. She soon told them the old man barely knew what day of the week it was half the time. And they’d taken some convincing.

Now it was poke through the desk and pry in the computer for business records. She’d refused outright when her father first broached the idea but found herself agreeing after spooky Axel insisted. She still didn’t know why the hell she’d said yes. Whatever Dad thought about the man, Axel gave her the creeps. Yes, he’d bought into the failing local paper and put it back on its feet, but really, the way he persisted about wanting a big scoop about Connor Inc., you’d think he’d bought into the Washington Post, not the Dark Falls Weekly News.

Still, dammit, she’d agreed. She’d wait until all was quiet and then she’d have a quick sneak and go back home, tell them she’d found nothing at all and hope to heaven they’d shelve the whole ridiculous obsession.

The front door opening an hour or so later yanked Laura from the prickings of her conscience. Damn! If Mr. Wise was back, that put an end to her sneaking tonight, which was an immense relief.

It wasn’t her employer.

“Hello?” a very female voice called.

The visitor. And with her own key. Interesting. Not that it really surprised Laura; a man as attractive as Mr. Wise no doubt had a string of women at his beck and call. Funny, he hadn’t come back with this one, though.

“Good evening.” Laura stepped into the wide entrance hall, where the woman stood, a bulging overnight bag in her hand. “You must be Adela Whyte. Mr. Wise mentioned you were coming.”

“I am. Is Piet asleep? I won’t wake him but haven’t seen him for a couple of weeks.”

Who was she? Old friend of the family? She looked to be forty, maybe even fifty, and seemed stressed. “There’s not much change, never is.” Would have been easier to insist he was out for the night, but she was planning enough sneakiness for one night. She wasn’t adding telling lies to someone’s face.

A shadow of anxiety crossed the woman’s face. She set her bag on the slate-tiled floor. “Let me go in now; I’d hate to disturb him later. He’s still in the little sitting room?”

Laura nodded. “Yes. He likes being moved out to the terrace during the day.”

“He always loved the ocean.” She held out her hand. “I’m Adela Whyte, Piet’s ex-wife—or rather, one of them.”

Interesting. “Laura Fox, one of the nursing team, as no doubt you guessed.”

“And may the goddess bless you for that. Can’t be an easy job for a young woman, coping with a near-helpless old man, and he’s not the easiest of patients, I imagine.”

Seemed rude to agree, and Laura wasn’t too comfortable being painted as Florence Nightingale when she was planning domestic espionage. “He’s old and weak—must be frustrating for him.”

The woman laughed. “My dear, he’s only three years older than I! But he’s taken less care of himself.” She crossed the hall and opened Piet’s door.

He was lying as Laura had left him: on his back, heavy hands resting on the tightly folded sheet, his head on several pillows and his eyes shut. Only his breathing showed he was not yet asleep. Adela Whyte moved over to the high hospital bed and perched on the edge, wrinkling the blankets. Laura told herself to chill. The woman couldn’t stay up all night.

Adela sat in silence for a few seconds. “Piet?” she said at last.

From her vantage point across the bed, Laura saw his eyes open. It took a moment or two for him to focus. “Adela?” he said. “You again?”

“Yes, me again,” she replied. “Thought I’d drop by and see how you were.”

He didn’t reply right off, just stared with only half-comprehending eyes. He didn’t seem distressed, just frowned as if searching for recognition or memory in his damaged brain. Then his hand reached out for Adela’s. “He hurt Lizzie, didn’t he?”

That caught Laura’s attention. Perhaps she’d hear something that would keep Dad happy awhile and save her from rummaging though private papers.

Adela sighed. “Lizzie’s fine, Piet. Don’t worry yourself. She’s well and happy and has found herself a good man.”

“Toby says she’s coming to see me. I want to see her. Tell her I’m sorry.” He paused and frowned as if pulling thoughts from the shadows in his mind. “You were right, you know. I should have listened.”

Adela patted his hand. “It’s okay, Piet. Don’t worry yourself. Go to sleep. You want to be as well as you can when she gets here.”

He nodded as his lids dropped over his tired eyes. Adela waited a few minutes, then gently withdrew her hand from his grasp. She turned to Laura as she stood up and, with a brief smile and a gesture of her head, indicated she wanted to speak to her outside.

As Laura closed the door behind them, Adela asked, “He’s not getting any better, is he?”

Torn between her seemingly genuine concern and uncertainty about the woman’s position in the family, Laura hesitated. “Hard to tell, but on the whole, no.”

Adela shrugged. In the half light of the dim hall, she looked worn and tired. “It’s to be expected, I suppose, but one hopes all the same.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“I’ll make myself a cup of tea and get to bed. I doubt Toby will be back much before morning.”

Good news! Now all she had to do was get Adela off to bed. “I’ll make it and bring it up to you if you’d like.”

“Thank you, my dear, but I think I need to sit awhile. I’ll make my own.” Laura followed her into the kitchen. By the way Adela plugged in the electric kettle and found the tea bags and cups, she obviously knew her way around. “Want a cup?” Adela asked Laura.

Why not? “Thanks. I oughtn’t stay, but I’ll take it back with me.”

“Is he showing any improvement at all?” Adela took a second cup from the cabinet and dropped in a tea bag.

Torn between professional discretion and the feeling this woman might know something of previous events, Laura replied, “Not a lot. He talks a great deal about Lizzie. She’s your daughter, right?”

“Stepdaughter, but she’s a lovely young woman. You’ve met her?”

“No, she visited a few days before I was hired. I’ve only worked here a few weeks. Mr. Connor talks about her all the time.” She paused. Just how far should she dig for hints? “He seems to be worried about something, often says he’s sorry. Could just be confusion but it really seems to bother him….” Heavens, she was being far too obvious.

Adela shrugged. “He and Lizzie had a couple of differences. Fathers and daughters do, you know.” Didn’t she!

“I suppose so, it just seems to prey on his mind.” Sheesh, the woman should tell her to MYOB.

Instead she got up and poured water into both cups and handed one to Laura. “Here you are. I’m going to take mine upstairs. I know where the room is; don’t bother yourself. I hope Piet has an easy night.”

So did Laura. She still had major misgivings about poking around, but Dad had been so insistent, almost desperate. Seems his new partner was convinced there were underhanded goings-on at Connor Inc. and that details had to be here in the house.

Damn! Still, she’d have a look and hopefully be able to tell him in the morning that there was absolutely nothing and that Axel Radcliffe was barking up the wrong tree.