Opal Fire (13 page)

Okay, this guy was freaking me out.

“Come into the parlor, we’ll talk,” he whispered.

“No thanks, it’s late. Thor!” Cripes, where does a 180-pound dog hide?

“Come on.” Matt pulled at me, still holding my arm, and dragged me further into the house.

I counted three doors and twelve windows, deciding Thor was on his own before Matt said, “I loved that girl. She was my best friend.”

He sighed and ushered me to a settee as he sunk into a chaise lounge, rubbing his temples.

“Friend?”

Matt looked at me and nodded.

“That wasn’t the impression I got.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought you two were a couple.”

Matt laughed. “Yes, well when you’re captain of the football team in a small Midwest town and your homophobic father runs a dive bar, people make assumptions.”

Wait, what?

Matt sensed my confusion. “That’s why I haven’t talked to the man in years. I’m gay, Stacy.”

“Darling!” said a thin man with a goatee, accompanied by my wayward dog. “Look who I found lounging on our bed.” I glared at Thor who completely ignored me and sat next to our host. Matt ruffled his ears.

The man approached Matt and kissed him, punctuating the fact that I was a complete jackass.

Matt introduced me to Blake and the conversation went on for another half hour as he explained that Kathy was his date whenever he needed one for appearances, but other than that they were the closest of friends.

“She was seeing someone seriously those last few months of school and I got the impression from our last conversation that she wanted to tell me something. She never had the chance,” he said, choking back more tears.

“Was she going to tell you who it was do you think?”

Matt shook his head. “No, something else. She made it clear she didn’t want me to know who her secret lover was.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Could have been kid stuff. Everything’s so dramatic when you’re a teenager.”

Kid stuff. What do teenagers engage in that they hide from the parents? Drinking? Drugs? Sex? Was she going to sneak off for a weekend getaway? Maybe tell her parents she was visiting a college. Did she really plan to run off to Hollywood like they thought she might? Get married? Join the circus? What was it she wanted to tell Matt?

I thanked Matt and left with a promise that I would help the couple perform a séance. Turned out the Geraghtys were popular among the gay community and Matt was fascinated by the supernatural.

“Well that was another dead end. And you were no help at all!” I said to Thor as we backed out of the driveway. Matt and Blake waved goodbye.

It was early afternoon and the roads were a bit slick, so I took the turns a little slower than I had on the way there. I reached for my cell phone and called Derek, telling him to review the story and choose some pictures to go with it.

“No problem. Hey, some guy was calling here asking about you.”

“Who?”

“Didn’t say. Said he’d leave you another note. What’s up with that?”

Great. The little troll was back.

Next I called Leo, asking if he had dinner plans.

“I know the answer, but I still have to ask,” he said, “did you visit the Sims’ residence?”

Shit.

“IS THAT HER?” I heard The Mayor yell in the background.

Double shit.

“Tell her she’ll be lucky to get a job writing for the back of cereal boxes when I’m through with her!”

“What’s that, Leo? You’re breaking up.” I cut the call.

This was so not good.

I flipped the wipers on high, coasting around the lake, thinking about what a girl might want to tell her gay best friend. Want to, but afraid to. Or ashamed to. Or uncertain about. Or worried. Or...

And then it hit me.

Was Kathy pregnant?

I called the coroner and asked if there was any way to determine that possibility.

“What? Why?”

“Please, Mr. Sagnoski. If there’s anything you could do. It’s important.”

He sighed. “I’ll try kid, but no promises.”

I hung up the phone just as a car smashed into me from behind.

CHAPTER 16

My skull throbbed as I forced my eyes open. Everything was fuzzy. I looked in the backseat and my neck cracked. Oh, no. The back hatch was open and Thor was gone. I peeked in the mirror, frantic. Another crack and blood oozed down my eyelid.

Where was I? Where was Thor? What happened?

Every bone in my body ached and cracked each time I moved and a distinct chill settled over me.

I leaned forward to peer out the windshield.

White all around. But it had stopped snowing. The sun washed the sky in waves of pink and purple brushing against the surface of the untapped landscape. It was dusk. I had been out for at least a couple of hours.

I unhooked my seatbelt and heard another crack.

That’s when I knew it wasn’t my bones.

It was ice. And I was in my Jeep, in the middle of the lake. I sat very still for about a tenth of a second before I threw the door open and dove onto the ice. I landed on my chest and skidded across the glassy surface. I turned back to see the lake swallow my Jeep one fender at a time.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Seemed I was far enough away from the dark hole. If I could just run to the shoreline...

CRACK.

Uh-oh.

I flipped on my back and crabbed-walked as fast as I could towards what I hoped was land, all the while watching chunks of ice breaking in front of me.

Then I felt wet.

And the platform that held me caved.

I plummeted into the water, grasping for an edge of ice, bobbing.

Finally, I gained purchase. I pulled myself up, but the frozen lake shattered in my hands. My arms flailed wildly. Reaching, grabbing, desperate for a solid connection, but the slippery surface gave way, again and again.

The chattering of my teeth drowned out all sounds but I was sure I screamed “Help!” at the top of my lungs, my last bit of strength gone with it.

And then I heard, “Woof!”

Treading water, I looked up and saw Thor.

He was paving a path along the embankment, a car’s length away, galloping back and forth.

Certain I could make it, I tried to secure some real estate on the lake, but my arm weighed a hundred pounds and my coat, scarf and gloves were anchors. I wiggled from my coat and scarf, hot breath slicing the air, and let them sink. The gloves were leather, so I thought they’d offer some protection for at least a few more minutes.

Again, I grabbed the frozen surface—and it held. I rested for a minute, gasping for breath. Then I tried to pull myself up. It was futile. My strength was gone and my jeans bogged me down.

When I looked up again, Thor was on the ice, crawling towards me.

“Thor! No!”

He slithered forward and I said a little prayer to Diana, goddess of the hunt and canine protector.

My fingers were stiff, probably blue beneath the leather, and I couldn’t stop shaking.

Thor moved forward and I noticed he was shivering too. Great Dane fur isn’t exactly insulation.

“Go back,” I croaked.

He didn’t listen and I realized he still had a leash on, plus the scarf.

I briefly wondered how my day could start with a poultry bomb and end up with me as fish bait.

Thor crept closer and I was warming up to the idea, afraid that even if I could hoist myself up, the ice that kept me afloat would crumble again.

Of course I had no clue what I would do once I got out of there. It had to be miles back to Matt’s place and my cell phone was swimming inside my Jeep at the bottom of the lake.

Thor was about three feet away and I told him to stay there. He had a good seventy pounds on me and I didn’t want to risk us both going under.

But his weight was more evenly displaced. So maybe...

“Down,” I said to Thor. He obeyed.

“Come.”

He crawled slowly toward me. When he was about a foot from the shelf, I said, “Stay.”

The leash was buried beneath him by the time he reached me, but the scarf was tied around his neck. If I could just snag it, maybe he was strong enough to pull me up.

Thor whined softly.

“Okay, buddy. Hang on.”

Gingerly, I extended my right arm and propped myself up on the ledge with my left. I was just able to tangle my fingers around the fringe of the scarf.

I looked at him and said, “Back.”

Thor inched back.

“Up.”

He stood and I was lifted a few inches, my legs still in the water.

“Back.”

Another step.

Another.

My chest emerged from the water and Thor hesitated, looking to me for further instruction.

“Back.”

I still couldn’t access the leash and the scarf began to unravel.

CRACK.

Oh shit.

Before I slipped into the water, I felt something clamp my arm.

Then I passed out.

CHAPTER 17

“I cannot believe you put a tracking device in my car!” I said to Leo later.

“Actually,” Chance said, raising his hand, “I did.”

I glared at him. “You did?”

“Yeah, but he told me to,” he said, pointing to Leo.

“Okay, that’s it. I don’t understand this bond the two of you have formed. You don’t even know each other.” I waved my arm and the wool blanket around me fluttered. “What am I? Some prize you’re competing for at the state fair?”

Leo and Chance exchanged a look as I caught my reflection in the mirror over the fireplace. We were in the Geraghty House parlor and my forehead was plastered with a butterfly bandage, my nose was runny, my eyes bloodshot, and I was pretty sure strands of frozen hair had broken off in the squad car.

“You know what I mean,” I mumbled.

It turned out, Leo had grown concerned when he couldn’t reach me for so long and no one else had heard from me. He called Chance to track my car and when they discovered it appeared to be in the middle of a frozen lake, they rushed to find me. They arrived just as Thor was struggling to pull me from the freezing water.

Fiona floated in with hot coffee and herbal tea. The coffee was for Leo, who sniffed it first.

My great aunt set down the tray and said, “Well dear, they did save your life.”

“That isn’t the point,” I said.

“Come now, you need to rest.” She shuffled me to the sofa and tucked an extra blanket around me. My teeth had only just stopped chattering.

“Don’t you think she should be in a hospital?” Leo asked.

“Nonsense!” Birdie said. She drifted through the entryway with Irish whiskey and warm scones that hinted of nutmeg. “There’s nothing they would do for her that we can’t do here. It isn’t like she lost a limb.”

I’m guessing if I had, though, the Geraghty Girls would have been in the fruit cellar fashioning one from hay and twigs.

“Birdie, she could have pneumonia,” Leo insisted.

“I’m fine, Leo,” I said and sneezed.

“You are not fine.” Leo stood over me. “First you think you’re Nancy Drew, then you’re Dora the Explorer. I mean, what’s next?” He threw his hands in the air and looked at Chance.

Chance helped himself to a scone and said, “If you say Bob the Builder, I swear I will punch you.”

Birdie prepared a hot toddy for me and said, “That’s quite enough, boys.”

I looked around the room. “Where’s Thor?”

“Lolly’s bringing him around now, dear,” said Fiona.

It wasn’t a minute before Lolly wove into the parlor, in full Geraghty regalia. She smiled at me, curtsied for Chance and Leo, and swung her cape around to meet the fireplace. She fumbled for a minute, bent down, worked her arms every which way, and when she stood, there was a Thor-sized bed with a canopy on it near the hearth. She whistled and Thor, wearing leggings and a fleece tunic, trotted over to me, licked my hand and retired to his boudoir.

I heard him slurp something, burp and plop down.

“Hmm. I thought Fiona was the one with the knack for animals,” I remarked.

“
That’s
what sticks out as strange in this picture? Are you kidding me?” asked Leo.

Chance avoided his eyes, fearing guilt by association, and I chugged a shot of whiskey.

“Where’s Smalls?” I asked, ignoring Leo.

“Oh,” Fiona’s tone was a cool breeze, “he won’t be bothering you anymore, dear.”

I sat up. “Why? What did you do?” I looked at the three of them, and they all just stared at me, blank chalkboards.

“Don’t give me that,” I said. “I want to know what you said. Or did.”

“We just had a chat, dear,” Fiona said. She poured herself into a chair and crossed her legs.

“Your aunt can be very persuasive, Anastasia,” Birdie said.

The implication hinted at some kind of seduction scene. If you could carve out an image from your brain with a melon baller, I would have done it on the spot.

“Not like that!” Lolly slapped my knee.

Now how did she know what I was thinking?

“Can I see you for a minute?” Leo asked and pulled me into the hall.

The look on his face was a combination of longing and pity. Not exactly what a girl likes to see in the eyes of her suitor.

“Stacy, I am serious. You need to get some real medical attention. I’m worried about you.”

“That’s very sweet, but I really am okay, Leo. Trust me.” I squeezed his hand.

“Trust you?” He tilted his head and laughed. Then he counted off on his fingers. “You’ve been investigating a homicide.”

“I am investigating a story.”

“You put a bomb in your fridge.”

“That wasn’t my fault.”

“You got run into a lake.”

“Again, how could I see that coming?”

He leaned in as the little vein on his forehead throbbed. “You informed a family that their runaway daughter is dead.”

“She is.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I'm almost positive.”

“Even if it is her, that’s not your call.”

I blew out a long sigh. He was a little bit right, although truthfully, I hadn’t intended to tell them about Kathy. It just slipped out.

“Stacy, look, I care about you.” He kissed my forehead. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.” He kissed my eyelids. “I want to be with you. Alone. On a real date. Remember those?” He lifted my chin and kissed my lips. “But it’s always so crazy around here. It’s tough to handle.”

“Then you aren’t equipped to court my granddaughter,” Birdie said behind us.

“Birdie!” I was exasperated.

Leo looked at her and shook his head, slowly. I saw a little bit of his fire fade in that moment. “Maybe you’re right Birdie. I might not be. But it’s worth it to me to find out.” Then he looked at me, my face shining back in his eyes. “Please stay out of trouble,” he said before he closed the door.

I whirled around at Birdie. “Why? Why would you say that?”

Birdie made a disgusted sound. “He needs to toughen up.”

“He’s a cop, for crissakes.”

“That means nothing. And don’t curse.”

“I like him the way he is.”

“Men who love Geraghty Girls have to find a delicate balance between resolve and tolerance. He’s a lion in his sun sign, a leader, one who controls. You, of all people, should know that Geraghtys cannot be controlled.” She clasped her hands in front of her.

She had a point there, but this was none of her business.

I opened my mouth to tell her to stay out of my love life. To tell her that my decisions are my own and that I certainly did not need her advice when it came to relationships, but then I glanced into the parlor and something stopped me.

Fiona, Lolly, Birdie. All of them single. And after my father died, so was my mother.

I flashed forward thirty years and saw myself sitting on the settee, alone, reading a book. And I didn’t even have any sisters.

“I’m going to die alone in this house,” I said like I was reading a headline.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Birdie said, examining her nails. “I didn’t say he wasn’t trainable.”

The doorbell chimed before I could ask what that meant.

A very pissed off looking Cinnamon stood on the porch next to Mario, who didn’t seem to notice she was giving him a death stare.

“Hey, cousin. Fiona told me what happened. How you doing?” She asked, rushing to hug me.

“I’m good, thanks, Cin.”

“You need to lay low, Stacy, this is getting scary.” She searched my face and said, “But you won’t. Well, at least call me next time you want to risk your life.” Then she looked around, said hello to Birdie and asked, “Chance is here, isn’t he? I thought I saw his truck in the driveway.”

“In here, Cin!” Chance called.

I followed Cinnamon into the parlor and she explained that she needed Chance to pull her car out of a snowdrift.

“Because my idiot uncle told me he knew how to drive.” Her eyes shot daggers at Mario.

“I’m right here, Cinnamon,” Mario said. “You should respect your elders, ah?”

Cin grumbled something about not being sure they were really related. Then Mario spotted Fiona’s legs and forgot all about the respect thing.

I retrieved my hot toddy as the bell rang again and Mr. Huckleberry entered the parlor.

“Well,” Birdie announced. “Our dinner guest has arrived.”

Lolly clapped her hands and I spit boozed-up tea through my nose.

Fiona rose and said, “Why don’t you all stay? There’s plenty for everyone.”

Well, this should be interesting.

Upstairs, Lolly was hammering down the gin and tonics as she dug through her closet searching for proper dinner attire for Cinnamon and I.

The two of us were crouched on the floor of Lolly’s private dressing room, spying out the upstairs window at Mario and Huck smoking cigars on the side porch.

“Remember that photo, Cin? The one Derek snapped in the basement?” I whispered.

“Yeah, so?”

“The cigar butt. Didn’t it have that same color ring? Like the one Huck’s puffing on?”

Cin squinted. “Oh yeah. I think so. But that doesn’t mean anything. He used to own the place. It could have been there for years. Besides, look, Mario’s is the same.”

She was right and we met each other’s eyes. Could Mario have set the blaze? But what would have been the motive? Money?

“Mario?” she said. “Man, if I could get that guy out of my life.” She went back to watching him, a smile framing her face.

“Girls,” Lolly called. “Makeup time.”

Cinnamon’s mood returned to pissed off as we entered the dining room in matching crinoline stuffed dresses, with pig-tails and neon blue eye shadow.

We looked like the Judds. The early years.

Chance laughed and Cin kicked him. Hard.

Even Mario flinched.

“Feeling better, dear?” Fiona asked me as she scooted her chair up to the table.

Yes, I always feel better when I’m dressed like the cast from The Beverly Hillbillies. “Fine, thanks,” I said.

Huck was piling scalloped potatoes onto his plate. “I heard about your accident, Stacy. What were you doing out in the boonies?” He asked, although I suspected he knew.

“Just sightseeing,” I said and helped myself to a buttermilk biscuit. Mr. Huckleberry probably knew I was close to his son’s tree farm. Why didn’t he mention it? He certainly would have known Kathy if Matt and she were so close.

Not to mention he did own the building at the time of her disappearance. He would have been aware of any work that had gone into it, whether he ordered it or even if it was rented out at the time. But if he was responsible for Kathy’s death, the reason eluded me.

Mario asked Chance to pass the wine and Fiona piped in, “Look, Stacy, Mario brought this lovely jewelry from Italy.” She motioned toward the buffet where Mario had displayed the wares he was packing up the other night.

“Very nice,” I said.

“I sell you cheap, ah?” Mario said.

“Stop it, Uncle Mario,” Cin said.

“What I say?” he asked.

“Stacy, come, look.” Mario yanked my chair from the table and dragged me to the buffet.

“You want bracelet, you want ring, watch? What you like?”

I browsed the display, prepared to buy something just so he’d take his hand off my ass. Then I spotted a necklace I had to have.