Caterpillar, a Paranormal Romance With a Touch of Horror (16 page)

I didn’t pay any attention to the branches on the way back and, in the grand tradition of my clumsy nature, I must’ve hit every one.  Back at the house, I stumbled through the French doors, out of breath and out of calm, right into a group of curious onlookers.  There stood the entire camera crew, as well as Bounty and Tegan and a few others I didn’t recognize, staring at me like I’d grown a second head. 

Tegan was the first to speak. “Cat, what the—” 

I reached up to brush my hair back from my face and realized that it was stuck.  I rubbed at my face, which was sticky, and when I lowered my hands, I saw that my fingers were bloody. 

I looked down at my legs and they were scratched and bleeding, too.  My feet were dirty and my toes were grass-stained.  My lovely red power suit had several picks in the skirt and both sleeves.  I was holding my shoes, so they were the only unscathed portion of my entire ensemble. 

Tegan walked slowly toward me, like I was a deer he was trying not to spook.  He put his hands on my shoulders, bent his head a little and looked into my face.  “What happened?”

There was the vague thought in the back of my mind that I shouldn’t be enjoying his touch, that I was supposed to be afraid of him, but the longer I looked into those blue eyes, the more I felt only peace and pleasure.  “Jessica— she’s— and the sword— and she’s— her heart.  And the blood— Jessica.”  A fuzzy calm, almost like the buzz you get from a little too much alcohol, clouded my mind, making speech as well as rational thought difficult. 

Tegan didn’t seem to have any trouble deciphering my Rain Man-like spew.  Turning away from me, he flipped open his phone and called for all sorts of things.  He used codes like one-eight-seven and nine-o-one something or other.  I lacked the Captain Crunch Secret Decoder Ring that would’ve made it all clear to me.  My brain on a good day was ill-equipped to decipher that mess, much less on
this
day.  Fortunately, I didn’t much care. 

With the break in contact and those hypnotic blue eyes not locked with mine, my head began to clear—somewhat.  I thought of Jessica, lying in the gazebo, glazed eyes looking beyond this world, and then I thought of Carter. 

“I’m going to the restroom.  I need a minute to—”  Tegan was already shaking his head, indicating that no further explanation was needed.  I walked into the kitchen and grabbed my purse then headed to the bathroom.

When I was inside the spacious half bath with the door locked behind me, I turned on the fan and the faucet then walked over and sat on the toilet lid, facing the wall.  I cupped my cell phone and punched Carter’s number on the speed dial.  It rang and rang then the voice mail picked up. 

“Carter, you
have
to call me as soon as you get this.  I need to talk to you,” I whispered, adding as much urgency to my hushed tones as I could.

I flipped the phone closed then decided maybe persistence would win the day so I flipped it open again and hit redial.  Still no answer.  I left a similar message the second time.  I dialed his work phone number and Curly answered the phone in his gruff, smoker’s voice.

“Yello.  Curly’s.”

“Hi, Curly.  It’s Cat Deen.  Is Carter in?”  I tried to sound nonchalant, as if I fully expected him to be there, where he should be.

“Nope.  Hasn’t been in since Monday.  You see that rascal, you tell him to get his arse in here, ya’ hear?  He thinks I won’t fire ‘im, but he’s pushin’ his luck.”

“I’ll tell him, Curly.  I’m sure you’ll see him before I do, though.”  I hoped that was the case.

“Better hope so.”

I was ready to hang up when a thought occurred to me.  “Curly, where do you all get those lamps you use to dry paint and Bondo and stuff?”

“Usually rent ‘em from A1A.”

“A1A?”

“Yeah.  It’s the industrial equipment place down on one-o-nine.”

“You know Ken Wallace?  Had some work done on his ‘Vette?” 

Curly paused a long time before he answered, if his answer was even an answer at all.  “Why?” 

“Just curious.  I, uh, I heard about his car.  Just wondering.” 

“Yeah, I know ‘im.  Prick picked up his car, but never came back to pay up.  Owes me a nice chunk of money.”

“Oh.  Okay.  Well thanks Curly.  Sorry to bother you.”

I sat on the toilet lid, trying to separate genuine suspicious behavior from my overwhelming paranoia and the desire to see someone other than Carter turn out to be the responsible party.  The beginning of a wicked headache was already pulsing behind my eyes and my erratic thoughts weren’t helping matters.  I pushed aside my ruminations and rose to check my reflection. 

As I suspected, I was a mess.  I surveyed the bloody scratches on my neck and chest, taking inventory as I went down to my toes.  On my way back up from my feet, I noticed the absence of my Aunt’s necklace.  It must’ve come off during my mad dash through the woods. 

I cupped my hands under the still-running faucet and splashed water on my face and neck, trying to clean up as best I could.  I had some tissue in my purse that I used to work on my legs.  What I discovered was that removing the dried blood only minimally improved my appearance.  I looked battle-worn and harried.  Who am I kidding?  I
was
harried. 

I slipped my shoes on, hating to put my filthy feet into designer shoes, but walking around barefoot was out of the question.  I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the onslaught of questions I would undoubtedly be bombarded with, but when I exited the bathroom, the house was completely empty.  It was like stepping into the Twilight Zone, like everyone had vanished without a trace. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out where, on a day like that, a cop and a news crew could be found.  I walked through the French doors out onto the patio and looked toward the gazebo.  As I suspected, there were several people making their way around the pond.  They looked like large ants ambushing a picnic in the gazebo.  Only what was in the gazebo was no picnic at all.

“She got here just in time.”

I jumped like I’d been shot.  I whirled around to find Wade standing behind me.

“Who?”

“Megan.”

I saw a curvy figure in a winter white dress and flowing dark red hair making its way toward the gazebo with the masses.  If Wade hadn’t told me Bounty was there, I’d still have known.  There was no mistaking her, even at a distance. 

I guess I ought to be thanking God for small favors.  Bounty’s found a better story than me,
I thought.  All the trouble she’d caused me over a stupid interview and then she found something better and left me in the dust. 

I knew that getting raw footage fresh from an undisturbed crime scene, before even the police had gone through it, would be like reporting gold.  It would put her at the top of the ratings pile without a doubt.  In fact, between the exclusive with me, her connections to Tegan and being the first one on the scene at a murder, her career would benefit dramatically from the killing spree.

Wade’s voice interrupted my train of thought.  “She’s got a nose for crime, that’s for sure.”

“Why aren’t you with them?”

“She’s already got two cameramen with her.  She told me to stay here and get some more shots of the house.”  Disappointment was evident in his voice.  “She promised she’d let me get the exclusive footage next time around.” 

“Assuming there is a next time.”

“Oh, there will be.  This ain’t over.”  The glint in his eye said he was glad.  He saw only opportunity.  It made me sick.   What vultures!  Bounty was a story-whore and her cohorts were obviously just as despicable.  They represented the kind of bottom-feeding parasites that gave a lot of legitimate journalists and media personnel a bad name.

I heard a door slam.  I went back inside and through to the front door to see who had managed to arrive first:  the unfortunate caterer, an unfortunate client, an unfortunate Realtor or the police.   It turned out to be the unfortunate caterer. 

Seeing the caterer’s van reminded me that I had arrangements to cancel.  I hit the speed dial button for the office on my cell phone and got Rainn after the second ring. 

“Don’t ask me any questions.  I’ll tell you all about it later, but right now I need a favor.  Well, actually two.  Can you find me someone to use my caterer?”

“Audrey called, probably from the mayor’s bedroom, and told me she would be having some political big wigs to the office this evening.  It’s kind of hush-hush.  I think she was just going to order in, but she might take your catering.  Want me to ask her?”

“If you would, that’d be great.  You need to let me know in the next few minutes so I can let the caterers know what they need to do.”

“What’s going on, Cat?”  I figured it would be asking way too much of Rainn to expect her to hold her questions until later, but I didn’t want to tell her something that the police might not want anyone to know.

“I really can’t say.  I’d tell you if I could.  Just bear with me for a little while.”  I heard her sigh.  She didn’t like answers like that.  “The other thing I need you to do is to call all the clients that I sent open house invitations to and let them know it’s been cancelled.  It’s the list I had you fax to the printer two weeks ago.  Do you still have it?”

“Of course.  You know I don’t throw anything away.”  Which was true, but at least she was organized about it.  She probably had boxes of stuff from the last five years alphabetized and cataloged.

“Good.  If you’d call them all right now, I’d appreciate it.  I’ll talk to you as soon as I can.  Tell Audrey I’ll check in with her as soon as I can, too.”

“You got it.”

“Thanks, Rainn.  You’re a lifesaver.”  With that, I hung up and walked out to talk to the caterers.

Rainn called back within minutes and I learned that Audrey was more than happy to use my caterer.  I relayed all the details to the catering people and they drove away, not the least bit bothered by the last minute changes.  They were one of the best in town and it was becoming increasingly apparent why that was the case.

As I watched the van fade down the long drive, I heard the faint whine of sirens in the distance.  I stayed put and within minutes I could see the flashing lights mounted atop three patrol cars and one ambulance making their way to the house. 

In their wake were two black SUVs with the Fulton County Crime Scene Investigation Unit seal plastered on the door.  It wasn’t quite déjà vu.  Apparently when a trusted law enforcement official calls in the troops, it was quite different than an ordinary person, me for instance, calling 911. 

Being one of only two people at the house and the only one with firsthand information, I directed the newest arrivals to the body.  An unmarked dark blue sedan pulled up and the same two detectives who had responded to the first two murders stepped out.  They saw me standing at the top of the steps and started shaking their heads in unison.  I was instantly defensive and irritated.  It’s not like I
chose
to be the one to find the bodies.  I hadn’t volunteered or signed up for it.

My spine straightened and my resolve strengthened as I watched the approach of my two tormentors.  I’m sure “back off” was emanating from me in huge, black waves.  Recent events were working an attitude in me that I felt sure they didn’t want to test at that moment.

“We meet again, Ms. Deen,” the taller of the two said casually.  I had learned from previous experience that he was the leader of the pack, the good cop of the good-cop-bad-cop duo. 

His name was Robert Newman.  He had light milk chocolate skin, close-cropped curly black hair and eyes the color of warm caramel.  He was very handsome and very disarming, a cocktail that probably got him plenty of information from all the females he interrogated—and maybe some of the males, too.

The shorter man, as usual, just watched me with his carefully blank expression.  His name was Jimmy Panelli.  Broad of shoulder, short of leg and thick all over, he was essentially square and looked like an enforcer for the mob.  I imagined that he had a nickname like “Jimmy the Hammer” or “Jimmy the Fist”.  He had dark Italian looks and a bumpy complexion from years of losing the battle with acne.  He hung back a little and I felt like I had already been judged and condemned when I looked into his suspicious black eyes.