Dark Series, The Color of Seven and The Color of Dusk (Books We Love Special Edition) (56 page)

No answer. He glanced in the window. The foyer lamp was burning but the law firm’s secretary Katie was gone because the main windows of her office reception room were dark. Ria must have had something out of the office running longer than she expected. If not, she’d be here. She was looking forward to the little party. Ria looked forward to everything these days. And he had to admit he did, too.

He buzzed Johnny’s intercom as a courtesy, even though he had a key to the door—that appearance thing again. Johnny didn’t answer either and it wouldn’t do to dematerialize in full view on the front porch.

He had the key in the lock and was just about to turn the tumbler when Johnny drove his little sports car, hell-bent for leather, down the driveway and tooted his horn in greeting. Paul stood in front of the door and waited for him.

“Hey, man! What’s the matter, key don’t work?”

“Just got here myself when you pulled in. Happen to know where Ria is?”

“Yeah, but I’m surprised she didn’t beat me back. She was going over to the LEC around three on some new appointed cases. She ought to be here.” Johnny grinned. “Ria doesn’t much like to linger around the LEC.”

“I know.”

“Well, come on in. We’ll see if she called or something. If she didn’t, she’s probably on her way now.”

Johnny unlocked the door to the reception room and strode to Katie’s desk, grabbing the pink slips from the message slots.

“Call your mom,” he muttered to himself. “Call Karen in the DA’s Office. Pre-trial on Harris set for two next Friday. Shit! I wanted to leave early next Friday, my folks are going to the beach. Well, that’s all mine, let’s see what’s in Ria’s. Hmmm. Call your mom. Our mothers, I swear. Sometimes I feel like I still live at home. Another appointed case. Shit! You’d think we were the only two lawyers in
Macon
on the damn list! And Dennis says they’re running late, be here at six-forty-five. That’s it. Did you check your cell phone?”

“Didn’t have a chance. Let’s see.” Paul pulled his phone out and checked. “Nope, nothing.”

“Well, she didn’t try me, either, I just checked my phone. No voicemail, no missed calls. Let’s see where she is.” Johnny hit her cell number and the call went straight to voice mail.

“She’d have her phone off in the LEC. Might have forgotten to turn it back on, I do that all the time. She’s probably on the way, though.”

“I’m sure she is. Let’s go on up, I’ll check the kitchen out.”

Johnny sniffed the air all the way up the stairs.

“Damn, that ham smells good. Just like Christmas.”

“C’mon over when you’re ready,” Paul said. “I’ll go organize.”

Paul flipped on the light switches and crossed to the kitchen. He was a better cook than Ria was anyway. No reason for dinner to be delayed.

Dennis and Lori arrived earlier than expected in spite of the message to the contrary they’d be late.

“We hurried so much not be any later than we thought we’d be, we’re early,” Dennis explained. They settled on two of the bar stools at Ria’s kitchen counter and watched Paul move around the kitchen.

“Where’d you say Ria was?” Dennis asked.

“LEC. I call it the jail,” Paul laughed. “And if she isn’t here in just a few more minutes, I think Johnny needs to call down there and see if we can track her down.”

“You know, if it weren’t for Ria, I’d probably be there myself tonight. In some jail somewhere, anyway.” Dennis shook his head. “Man, I just can’t believe I was ever that stupid!”

“You learned a hard lesson this year, Dennis. Ria’s real proud of you.”

“Yeah, and that bothers me a little.”

“It does? Why?”

“’Cause I don’t think I really deserve it. I mean, I didn’t do anything about Justin until I absolutely had to and I never would’ve had the guts to break away from him at all if it hadn’t been for—” Dennis broke off abruptly.

“Oh, c’mon, Dennis!” Lori exclaimed. “You always say you’ll tell me what happened that night but you never do! You always stop short like you don’t want to think about it!”

“I don’t,” he said shortly.

“I didn’t know anything in particular happened, Dennis,” Paul said, glancing at the clock. He’d give her five more minutes and then some calls were starting.

“Neither does Ria. But it did. And if I’d told her about it, she’d have thought I was on something myself.”

“Maybe you ought to go ahead and get it off your chest, Dennis.” The boy looked as though he needed to tell, no matter how much he’d rather not.

“You’d think I was crazy. But you might be able to put it to use. What are you writing, Paul? Is it a horror novel?”

That cover story of his might present future problems. Eventually, someone was going to expect to see some actual product. Ria’d damn near written a book, though, when she’d transcribed his story for her father. Maybe he’d borrow that. And it was sure as hell a horror novel.

“Sort of. Why?”

“’Cause you could probably work it in there somewhere. Damn sure the most horrifying thing ever happened to me.”

“And with that kind of build-up, you’re still fartin’ around about it!” Lori exclaimed. “Not fair. Now give!”

“Well, it happened out there where we stashed the stuff. Out by
Stone
Creek
Swamp
.”

Tingles like icy water dripped down the back of Paul’s neck and ran down his spine.

“There was this cave, sort of, you see,” Dennis said. “All covered over with rocks.” His words tumbled out, faster and faster. He described everything. The stake, the dancing particles of dust settling over the moldering bones.

“And while we were tearing down the path, I swear I don’t know how in the hell I didn’t roll that damn dirt bike, or crash into a tree, I swear I don’t, I heard it. This voice, this goddamn roar. It came from everywhere and the woods stood still. I mean, everything stood still. Nothing else moved. Nothing else made a sound! And it shouted, ‘
I’m aliiiiiive!’
Except it didn’t sound like that, it just kept echoing! Over and over, on and on and on.”

Dennis finally stopped and looked at his audience.

“Paul?”

Paul attempted to speak and couldn’t. He cleared his throat and tried again.

“And Justin? You noticed he started getting worse? Right after this?”

“Yeah. I ain’t defending what we were doing, Paul, honest to God, I’m not, but before then Justin didn’t go around terrorizing girls and leaving dead rats in their lockers and all that sort of shit. I always knew something was off with Justin and deep down, I got to admit I was always scared of him somehow, but after that night, man, shit! He said the next day that it was all our imagination but it’s like, it made me wake up. And it turned him into a nightmare that didn’t stop. Paul? Where are you going?”

Paul headed to the door.

“I think Johnny needs to call the LEC. He knows who to talk to.”

Johnny stood in the door when Paul opened, just about to knock.

“Man, that smell’s killing me!” he exclaimed, as Paul opened the door. “Ria, I didn’t know you could cook like this!”

He glanced around the room.

“She still not home?”

“No. You know who to call, Johnny, do you mind?”

“Hell, no,” Johnny said, whipping out his phone. “Desk, please.” He put his hand over the mouthpiece. “This really is taking her too long. Deputy Graves? Oh, good, guys!” He stated to the room at large. “I got one of the big boys on the phone.” Johnny knew how to get service. “Mike, this is Johnny Bishop. My law partner seems to have misplaced herself this evening, do you think you could run her down over there for me? She hasn’t? At all?”

Johnny’s tone changed abruptly.

“And you’re sure? I see. Thanks, Mike.”

He hung up the phone and bit his lip.

“She hasn’t been there. At all. He ran down the whole day’s sign-in sheet to be sure.”

Paul started for the door.

“Paul, wait! Maybe something else came up and she had to change plans. Let me ask Katie.”

Johnny hit another number and pushed the speaker button so everyone could hear.

“Katie? Sorry to bother you but where’d Ria go this afternoon?”

“The LEC. You know that.”

Johnny grimaced. “What time did she leave?

“Three or so. Like she told you was goin’ to do.”

“Oh. Well, thanks, Katie.”

“Johnny! Wait! Don’t you hang up this phone! What’s the matter and something is or you wouldn’t be calling!” Katie’s voice came in over the noise of her toddler’s rendition of ‘Jingle Bells’.

“Well, the thing is, she’s not back and she hasn’t called. And Katie, she ain’t been to the LEC this afternoon. At all. I just checked.”

“But she left at three-fifteen and I heard the car when she pulled out of the driveway. Can’t miss that Mustang when it’s shifting gears. And it was funny. Because when she shifted, it—what do y’all call it? The gears were grinding. Like when it doesn’t catch right, or somebody’s not familiar with the car. Ria’s never done that. Ever.”

“Well, maybe she was distracted.”

“Maybe. Call me when she gets home, okay?”

“Okay.”

He hung up.

“Folks, we got trouble. Because there’s one thing Ria Knight doesn’t do in that Mustang. She doesn’t grind the gears.”

Paul broke in.

“And she’d chew anybody else’s ass off that did.”

Chapter Nineteen

Ria swam slowly back to consciousness. It was cold and she felt dampness through the thin sleeves of her blouse. Her coat was gone. Her head ached like an abscessed tooth. And it smelled. Wherever she was, the air smelled stale and musty, closed and unused. She knew this smell but she just couldn’t place it, so she stopped trying. Of course. It smelled like the Knights’ cabin on
Lake
Sinclair
smelled when they first opened it every spring to dispel the winter chill.

Something, no, somebody, had knocked her out in her own garage as she approached her own car. A spurt of anger flickered. Its heat helped fight off the stiffness of her joints.

Her own garage, damn it, she’d been attacked in her own garage. But that smell. Wherever she was now, it wasn’t the garage.

Fear sprouted and leaped up in bright flames, mingling with insulted outrage. The mixture was peculiarly nauseating.

She stretched. No rope or cord. Fine kidnappers her assailants were. Didn’t even bother to tie her up. She pulled herself up on her knees as her eyes raced around the room. A bedroom, but not one that saw frequent use. And the mattress sucked.

It was dark, but that didn’t help much in figuring out any timeframe. December brought full dark by six o’clock. It could be six-thirty or three o’clock in the morning. Or six o’clock in the morning. One window. Nailed or locked, for sure, but it was her only shot. She had to try it.

The door opened and she froze. A gigantic shadow loomed in the doorway, casting a pool of deeper black across the floor. Behind the shadow, the reddish-gold glimmer of leaping flames danced in a fireplace. She heard the hiss of cracking wood, smelled burning hickory. The shadow spoke.

“My name be Cain,” it said. “An’ my color be sebben.”

* * *

“There wasn’t anything out of place in the garage when I parked,” Johnny said. “But then, there’s not much in it.”

“On TV, when something happens to a lawyer, it’s because of a case. A crazy client or something,” said Dennis.

“Dennis, this is not TV!” Johnny snapped. “And we’re small time!”

“But Ria had a case with somebody crazy!” Dennis snapped back.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Justin,” Paul said quietly. “He’s talking about Justin Dinardo.”

“Nobody’s seen Justin since he skipped bail.”

“Which doesn’t mean he’s not around.”

Paul headed for the door. He had to get out of this room, away from these witnesses, and cast himself out into the night. He had to hunt. Not for blood, for Ria. He needed to catch every smell, every sound. He didn’t have Justin Dinardo’s scent, damn it. But it would be lingering in the garage. And he knew, as surely as he had ever known anything in his life, that wherever he found Justin Dinardo, he’d find Cain. Cain’s scent still burned in his brain. He’d never forget it.

“Paul, wait!” Johnny grabbed his arm. “First, let’s try her cell again,” he said, punching his phone as he spoke. Nothing. Just voicemail. He flipped it closed and looked at Paul. “You don’t know where in the hell you’re going. We’ve got to call the police. That’s the first thing.”

“I thought people weren’t considered missing until they’d been gone 24 hours,” Dennis observed.

“Dennis, take Lori home,” Johnny ordered. “There’s nothing you can do here. Except, would somebody please cut off the damned oven so we don’t burn the house down on top of everything else?”