Darkness Bound (18 page)

A muted, multicolored haze rose from the water, rolled toward the bank, and hung around until a shot of glitter whipped the colors into a spin that evaporated. Just like the whirl she had seen come into the cottage when she was with Niles.

Leigh held very still, waiting to see if more shining streams would come from the depths.

She smiled. The child within, the one who had clung to the comfort and thrill of imagination when everything else seemed to fail her, was trying to come out and play.

With purposeful strides she went to her car. Anyone who lived on Seattle’s hills should become a whiz at putting on tire chains. After a few years in the area, and despite having grown up in New Orleans, Leigh was a super-whiz and accomplished the task in record time. She would get going now and have coffee at Gabriel’s Place. That’s the habit she had formed anyway—just not quite this early. Still on the porch, Blue watched her, and she could have sworn he looked disapproving.

On her way back she stroked him and held his head into the crook of her neck. Evidently that got rid of any annoyance on his part because he sighed and snuggled closer. His head weighed twice as much as Jazzy’s entire body—more than that, probably.

Back into the cottage she went, only allowing herself to savor the warmth for a moment before going after the cat.

“Time for the stowaway to be brought to justice,” she said, climbing the ladder.

Fifteen minutes later she still hadn’t found Skillywidden. Exasperated, Leigh looked everywhere, but she knew when she was beaten. Cats were like that—they sensed when going to ground was in their best interest, and this one didn’t intend to be found until she wanted to be.

Sally would already be baking. Perhaps she hadn’t noticed Skillywidden’s absence before she left home. Leigh decided not to call but to get there and tell her in person. The cat was safe.

Faintly, so faintly it might not have been a sound at all,
Leigh thought she heard the whisper of a heartbeat, and it wasn’t her own.

Either she was losing her mind or she was falling under some sorcerer’s spell that gave her superhuman hearing.

The drive was easy, through untouched snow several inches deep and still falling. The chains did their job perfectly, and with the blue-gray glow of dawn rising all around, Leigh reveled in the untouched landscape. It was still too cold for much of the snow to slide from tree branches, but she heard animals slinking in search of food.

Leigh braked and started into a skid. Fortunately she knew what she was doing and steered into the spin-out.

She
heard
animals moving softly, silently even, through the forest. Last night, warm and close to Niles, she hadn’t registered that it was weird to hear birds settling in the forest. She had accepted the sound of a car on the highway far from the cottage—moving through the snow.

Her own car slithered to a stop. Good grief, had she really heard Skillywidden’s heart last night, and when the cat hid from her today? Seeing shimmering colors slipping through cracks in the door and seeping from Saratoga Passage was something she refused to revisit—she hadn’t even told Niles about it, because he would have laughed.

Something very peculiar was going on. Imagining the visitation of a monster aside, her absolute confidence in being here, being safe, being powerful was unusual even for cocky Leigh. Not that she was always cocky, just determined.

Hearing the things she thought she was hearing bordered on… what did they call it… the other-worldly?

And she hadn’t turned a hair at the vapors drifting off Saratoga Passage.

Those vapors, and the ones that crept into the cottage the night before, were paranormal. What else could they be? And their appearance coincided with the bionic hearing…

Setting her jaw, narrowing her eyes on the glaring white scene again, she drove on, this time avoiding the brakes.

A hum of voices unraveled her concentration. There was no one to be seen, anywhere. Onward she went and the hum became a mumbling and an occasional laugh—and an occasional cross exclamation.

She would be a liar if she pretended not to be really rattled by too many questionable events, and by being closed inside her car, with blanketing snow deadening any noise around her, yet hearing people she couldn’t see didn’t make sense.

The car clock showed 6:30. She had made really good time.

When she reached the turn to Gabriel’s Place, the muted hubbub grew louder. Leigh saw a little gaggle of swathed figures standing on the road, some jumping up and down and stamping their feet to stay warm. Then she saw Gabriel, who strode back and forth pounding his hands together.

The new sign was hard to miss. It was mounted on a pole, and the lights raced around the letters, flashed several times when they reached them all, then stayed on. In a few seconds the cycle started again.

Leigh put her forehead on the steering wheel while she composed herself. Laughter wouldn’t endear her to
Gabriel, and if she got right out of the car she might leap around like a demented kangaroo and laugh with pure delight.

No one would miss that fabulous sign. Now she wanted one out by the main road. The thought of suggesting that to Gabriel made her cringe.

Only when she stood, cold striking through her boots—despite thick socks inside—did she gather the general mood of the little crowd. They were excited, blissful, bubbling with enthusiasm.

Gabriel saw her and marched in her direction. This was the moment to attack, not retreat. “I love it,” she said as he reached her. “That shop does great work. They really understand what’s needed. Congratulations, Gabriel.”

He did an imitation of a beached fish, his breath turning to icy clouds like a stream of smoke rings.

Leigh threaded a hand under his elbow. “And it’s really cute. Not offensive or anything, just funny. People will want to come in because they’ll expect a warm welcome and a smile.”

Gabriel pushed out his lips and narrowed his eyes. “If you look too quickly you see ‘tomorrow we die,’ not diet. And how was it put up without anyone hearing it going into the ground? That pole had better be in a deep hole or the whole thing will come down and kill someone.” He sniffed and said, “That’s if I don’t take it out myself,” under his breath.

With purposeful steps, Leigh marched to the sign and pushed on the very solid pole. “It’s not going anywhere. And it’s an absolute winner, Gabriel. You’ll see.”

He rocked to his heels. “You really think so?”

“I know so. Look at all of them—they love it.”

They
were Cliff and Sally, the twins, and a small assortment of men and women who had evidently sought cover from the weather.

“Well, I don’t know so,” Gabriel said. “Makes the place look like an amusement arcade. I’ll have to think on it.”

He marched back to the building, gesticulating and muttering about “Poles that go up in the night.”

The others straggled after him, all but Sally, who came and put an arm around Leigh. “He’ll warm up to it,” she said. “But you’d better wait a week or two for results before you go after the one on the highway.”

Leigh nodded and they started to go inside.

How did Sally know she was planning a second sign? Had they talked about it? They must have.

Blue appeared at Leigh’s side and she jumped, looking around and expecting to see Niles. She didn’t. The dog had followed her all the way here. Now she’d have to let Niles know where Blue was. When had she developed these Pied Piper tendencies? Dogs and cats everywhere—well, two dogs and one cat.

She cleared her throat as the doors of Gabriel’s closed behind them. “Skillywidden showed up in my bed last night,” she told Sally. “I’m so sorry, I thought it was too late to call you. She must have stowed away on Niles’s bike at your shop.”

Sally looked totally unconcerned. “Cats have minds of their own. If she’s taken a shine to you, let her stay until she decides she wants to come back to me. I think you’ll find her useful.” She had already shed her huge, puffy coat. “Unless you don’t want her around.”

Jazzy chose that moment to leap gleefully into sight and launch himself at Leigh.

Leigh had only begun to consider Jazzy’s reaction to a cat in the house when Sally said, “At least Jazzy thinks Skillywidden’s the cat’s meow.” She laughed at her own little pun and began her stiff, rolling walk toward the kitchen. “Just let me know if you don’t want her there.”

Now wasn’t the time to mention that the cat might already have disappeared. “Of course I want her there.”

Blue and Jazzy made straight for the hearth in front of a roaring fire.

“Good,” Sally called. “Introduce yourself to Doc Saul VanDoren. I call him Doc Saul. Just call him whatever he tells you to.”

Leigh searched around the restaurant and bar and finally noticed a tall, slender figure seated in the darkest corner of the bar. She approached apprehensively. Getting to know all of the customers and making them welcome was part of her job—or so she had decided—but she knew a loner when she saw one.

He looked up from his apparent reverie well before she arrived at his secluded table and she stopped.

Someone should have prepared her.

Doc Saul VanDoren was not a man you would ever pass on the street without a second look—or a third. She couldn’t tell the color of his eyes. Black, or as close to black as eyes could be, she supposed. Arching brows and narrow-bridged straight nose, a mouth with completely unexpectedly full, sensual lips. Cheekbones high and prominent.

Most surprising was the thick, black hair that fell past his shoulders.

“Good morning,” he said, but the expression remained serious, even though he looked her over carefully enough to make her skin tingle.

“Good morning. I’m Leigh Kelly. I work for Gabriel now.”

“Yes.” Now she was getting the eye-lock. “Gabriel mentioned you. I’m Saul.”

“Sally tells me you’re the local doctor.” She tried a smile without much hope of cracking any ice.

She was wrong.

The man spread a lazy smile Leigh could only stare at and held out a long-fingered hand. When she took it she noticed a heavy gold ring on his small finger and the unexpected drape of a full, white sleeve.

Sexy elegance. And in the local medico?

“Sally said you’ve been away.”

He stared back at her. “At sea. I like to take a break as a ship’s doctor a couple of times a year. Change is good and I have enough time on my hands to carry on my research.”

She might wait a long time if she hoped to be invited to sit. “May I ask about your research?”

“Perhaps another day,” he told her, rising to tower over her. He was as tall as Niles. “We’ll have another chat soon, Miss Kelly.”

“It’s Mrs. Kelly, but please call me Leigh.”

“Leigh,” he said courteously and with a slight bow. “Good day to you.”

A renaissance man, as in from the Renaissance.
That’s exactly what Dr. Saul looked like.

He walked fluidly in the direction of the kitchen. Beyond that there was another outside door and she heard it slam.

Before Leigh could hustle off to recover in her office, a woman raced through the front doors. It was still far too early for regular customers—the little band of those who
had gotten off the road to seek warmth was an anomaly—but this person, who was young and beautiful, with green eyes and freckles, started talking to the room at large as if her arrival was the most normal thing at this time of day.

She pushed back the fur-lined hood of her heavy, plaid wool coat and curly red hair began to slide out of a topknot. “I’ve heard from Rose,” she announced. She radiated happiness. “Everybody, I got back last night and there’s a letter from Rose.”

Gabriel came from behind the counter and Sally emerged from the kitchen with Cliff, covered in flour, trailing behind her. The customers looked mildly interested, but probably more in the newcomer than in her announcement.

“Have you told the police, Phoebe?” Gabriel asked.

The woman slapped a hand over her mouth. “I didn’t even think about it. I’ll call them.” She took folded paper from her pocket and shook it out. A single sheet. “See. She’s gone back to Alaska to help her dad. He can’t do what he used to do without help, so Rose will help. And she thinks she’ll stay there for good this time.”

“Leaving all her stuff behind,” Gabriel said. “Impulsive, if you ask me.”

“That’s one of the beauties of living in a converted school bus. With the wheels off and the whole thing up on blocks, it wouldn’t be easy to steal. Everything’s gone from inside. She didn’t have much so it would have fit in her truck.”

“Her truck is still there.”

Phoebe screwed up her face. “No it’s not. I went by there as soon as I got this last night. You know I always have problems storing all the books I, er, acquire. Rose
says I can store some of them in the bus. It’ll be really useful but I know it won’t be easy finding a replacement for her at the shop.”

Sally had reappeared, wiping her hands on her apron. “Did you introduce yourself?” she asked Phoebe, inclining her head to Leigh.

“Oh, my. Sorry. I’m Phoebe Harris. I own the used book store in Gulliver Lane. Read It Again. Next to Wear It Again, the consignment clothing store. I’m only here on weekends. In the week I work at a boat storage lot in Everett. Rose looked after the place here. She knew everyone and their interests so she often found a home for a book that came in before we even shelved it.”