Pandora's Box (28 page)

Mina held the door a moment to glance back. She saw Daphne’s office door open, just a few inches, and the hint of a smile
shone just beyond the opening. Mina smiled back and left.

“Where’s your car?” The woman paced impatiently.

“This way.” Mina led the way to her tiny heap of a car. She unlocked both doors and slid into the driver’s seat. Wendy plopped
into the passenger seat and slammed the door.

Still scowling, Wendy opened her bag lunch and peered inside. “So, what do you want from me?”

“Information.”

The woman glanced up. “I don’t share client information with anyone. It’s unethical and illegal.”

“Trust me. The information I want has nothing to do with business and everything to do with your personal relationship with
your boss.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Reaching into the bag, she pulled out a sandwich wrapped in plastic.

“Oh, come on. Let’s not do this. You’re sleeping with Duncan Forbes.” Mina held up a hand when the woman attempted to speak.
“And I know for a fact the man talks in his sleep. I just want to know if he happened to mention any of the following names:
Riordan, Teague, Robert Goodfellow or Robin Goodfellow. That’s all.”

“That’s all?”

Mina had seen Wendy’s eyes flicker when Mina mentioned the last two names. She knew something. “That’s all. I won’t even reveal
my source for any info that you give me. That would be on your conscience, not mine.”

Wendy huffed in annoyance. “My conscience is just fine, thank you.”

“So, Mrs. Forbes is okay with the whole infidelity scene? My paying her a visit to discuss you, among other things, wouldn’t
bother her in the slightest?”

Wendy looked alarmed but tried to brazen through. “You don’t have any proof.”

Mina sighed. “Come on, Wendy. Do you really think I need proof? All it takes is a whisper and you know she’ll be checking
up on you. What will she find?”

Wendy flinched. “But Duncan—”

“Doesn’t have to know a thing. Wendy, I’m not out to get you. I just need info and I’m willing to do whatever I have to do
to get it. Make it easy for me and we’re good. Oh, and let me just say that I’ll know if you’re lying to me or not telling
me everything. That would be a problem.” And, sure, that was a bluff, but at this point—

“So, if I give you this information, you’ll leave me alone and”—she visibly shuddered—“not say anything to Mrs. Forbes?”

“That’s right.”

Wendy eyed Mina cautiously. “Well, those last two names. They’re brothers, I guess?”

“Yes.”

“It might be that I know something about that.” She bit into the sandwich, chewed a moment, then spoke. “A black sheep and
white sheep kind of relationship, right? One’s the good brother and the other’s the bad one?”

“That’s their reputation.”

Wendy nodded. “Well . . . lately . . . Duncan’s been kind of restless. You see, he’s had these guys calling at all hours,
trying to pressure him into attending some function. I think that’s what has him upset. He’s kind of resistant to the whole
Druid thing, you know. I’m trying to win him back to the grove, but no luck so far. So, like I said, he’s refusing to go to
this thing and—”

“Is this function soon? As in, tomorrow?”

Chewing again, Wendy nodded. “Yeah. But he won’t go and he won’t talk about it. He always hangs up the phone and walks around
mad for the rest of the day. Only it’s not so much that he’s mad as he seems kind of nervous. Are these mob guys or something?”
She lowered her sandwich. “I mean, I don’t want anything to do with the mob, so you gotta tell me if that’s what he’s involved
in—”

“No, I think it’s all part of the Druid thing. Haven’t you received an odd invitation for November first yourself?”

Wendy looked startled. “How did you know? So that’s what this is about? The Council meeting tomorrow?”

“Like I said, it’s not the mob.”

“But if it’s Druid business, I can’t talk about it.”

Mina shook her head. “It’s not really about Druid business, though. The Druids involved are supposed to be objective. This
is more family business for Forbes.”

Wendy frowned, obviously torn.

“Seriously, tell me what you know about the Goodfellow brothers and I’m out of here. No strings.”

“But if Duncan finds out—”

“If I were you, I think I’d much rather have Duncan mad at me than his wife. And Duncan doesn’t need to know any information
came from you.”

Wendy frowned and slumped in her seat. “But Duncan trusts me to be discreet.”

“No problem. I can do anonymous tips.” Mina paused. “Do this my way and, like I said, Duncan doesn’t have to know anything.
And neither does his wife.”

Wendy still looked unsure. “All right. As long as we keep my name out of it.”

“I won’t mention your name. But you’d better be forthcoming.”

“Well, he took me to the beach this weekend. And he was muttering and groaning in his sleep, like he’s been doing—Really restless,
you know? And he kept talking about a mistake. Or a cover-up.”

“A cover-up?” Mina’s interest heightened.

“Yeah. You know, with the two brothers. And this other guy. Mapes. Meeps. Something like that. Wait a second.” Wendy frowned,
dug around in her purse and pulled out a card. “This guy.” She handed the card to Mina. “He keeps dropping by the office and
leaving his cards, so I kept one. Just in case.”

Mina read the name, her eyes widening. “What exactly was Duncan saying about this guy?”

“They were arguing in Duncan’s office one day. I was the only one there, so they didn’t bother to keep their voices down.
And I heard . . .”

Mina leaned toward her. “Go on.”

It was like pulling teeth to get the rest out of the woman, but twenty minutes later, Mina had her answers. The only question
now was how to use them to Riordan’s best advantage. She needed to plan. Strategize. And not get Riordan’s hopes up if things
didn’t work the way she wanted.

Still, she had one more person to visit before this was all done. A Reverend Maepus. It sounded like the man was at least
as interested as Mina was in Druids, folklore and ancient vendettas. Now, if the man would just pick up his damn phone. All
she needed was confirmation, clarification and some details.

But first things first. Closing her eyes, she visualized a cubicle. With stainless steel walls, combination locked door, no
windows, and airtight seals.

Not that discretion was necessary, she discovered shortly thereafter. Clutching the cornerstone to her breast, Mina exited
her car and ran through her front door, yelling Rior-dan’s name in panic. He still didn’t respond.

Despite repeated entreaties throughout the drive home, she hadn’t heard his voice since asking him for privacy to speak to
her sister. What had happened to him? Surely they wouldn’t condemn him already.

Where was Riordan? Surely he hadn’t abandoned her. He couldn’t, could he? And even if he could, he wouldn’t break his promise
to her. He wouldn’t.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The first day of November dawned gloomy and overcast. Mina woke moaning from a candy hangover.

The night before she’d considered overindulgence a reasonable remedy for fear and frustration complicated by the usual Halloween
mania. So call her a spook scrooge, but given her circumstances, she’d felt completely justified. It was logical that she
didn’t want to celebrate Halloween, and she didn’t want to be nice to cheerful, knock-knock-joke-telling short people who
just didn’t get it that everything in Mina’s world was wrong, wrong, wrong. But she’d handed out candy to the costumed beggars,
employing a one-for-you-and-one-for-me brand of fairness until nausea had convinced her to abandon her bowl of candy and go
to bed.

Wandering around at a loss now, Mina spent long, useless moments hovering over the cornerstone as if in doing so she could
somehow be closer to Riordan. She’d tried repeatedly to phone Reverend Maepus, but his office said he was out of town and
he hadn’t responded to any of the messages she’d left for him.

Repelled finally by her own whiny helplessness, Mina called Janelle. Apparently, Teague had mysteriously disappeared right
around the time Mina lost contact with Riordan. Annoyed—someone could have warned her this would happen, for pete’s sake,
instead of worrying the crap out of her—Mina begged Janelle to show up at the grove, just in case the Council would accept
a character witness on Riordan/ Teague’s behalf.

“Yes, of course I’ll be there. You’re sure this is where they’re having it?” Janelle sounded upset and distracted.

“I’m positive.”

“All right. Look, I’m still on shift. I’ll get out of here when I can—oh, shit. I gotta go.”

“Be there!” Mina shouted into the phone, eyeing it resentfully when she heard a dial tone.

Mina passed a long day doing, of all things, housework while she rehearsed a variety of speeches in her head. Speeches on
Riordan’s behalf, possible answers to accusations, and various ways to defend a puca who considered himself already condemned.
Still grumbling to herself about possibilities, Mina crammed the dust mop under the couch, shoving and tugging to get the
dust bunnies that tended to hide out there.

As she did so, bending low, she focused completely on an unfamiliar brochure set neatly in the middle of her coffee table.
A folded sheet of notebook paper had been tucked inside. Notebook paper? No. Not after all their fruitless searching.

Dropping the mop, she grabbed the brochure. It advertised a park—one she fully intended visiting in just a few short hours.
Hands trembling, she pulled the sheet of paper free and unfolded it. Then she frowned. “Huh?” She needed help. Interpretation
help. The language, copied so carefully in a neat hand, was unfamiliar to her.

Racing for her purse and praying for luck this time, she rummaged until she found both her phone and a now-worn business card.
She dialed the number on it. To her surprise and great relief, the Reverend answered on the first ring.

“Reverend Maepus? Oh, thank God. You’re back.”

“Yes, and I was just going to call—”

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m frantic. I need your help. My name is Mina Avery and I have what might seem like a strange request—”

“Mina Avery? You mean Pandemina Avery? Pandemina Dorothy Avery?” He sounded as worked up as Mina felt. “Fathered by Duncan
Forbes?”

“Er, yes. But how did you—”

“Mutual acquaintances told me to look for you. You left messages, yes? But we should talk in person. I’ll come to you. Just
give me directions.”

Baffled but grateful and by no means questioning her luck, Mina hurriedly gave him directions. Less than half an hour later,
Reverend Maepus was sitting at her kitchen table, eyeing Gladys’s letter eagerly. “Old English. My guess is your distant cousin,
in a bid to be orderly, recopied what was probably a very old, very worn document.”

“Great. What does it say?” Mina restrained herself, but it was difficult. Time was running out. Twenty very long minutes later,
the Reverend handed over his translation of the document—what he could read of it. The ink had smudged to illegibility at
the bottom corner of the document. Dog saliva?

Mina scanned it, her disappointment growing with every word. “That’s all? But most of this is useless now.” Mina slumped lower
into the couch cushions. “I already know all this crap. Don’t break the seal on the cornerstone, she tells me. Um, too late?
Don’t blab about the puca to anyone. Also too late? If he gets free, pull the
speak-of-the
trick, which I’ve done a few times now, so also duh. Then there are details about the rules for his confinement. More rules
for if he gets out of the cornerstone. All stuff we already learned on our own through trial and error. And—” Mina frowned,
reading further through Reverend Maepus’s translation.

Human sacrifice . . .

“No way. That can’t be what they intended. To actually—!” She met the clergyman’s eyes in horror, but his gaze was steadfast.
No
. She couldn’t speak or think it, let alone actually do it. They couldn’t ask this of her. She couldn’t do this. But how could
she not? Mina stared blindly at the paper but the words didn’t change. Nor did their implication.

“It’s a difficult task they’ve set before you, ” Reverend Maepus commented softly. “You love the puca?”

“With my whole heart.”

“I thought so. You’re so eager to help him.”

“But this?” Mina was horrified. “I can’t do this. Not even for—” She broke off. “Murder’s wrong. Right, Reverend? No ifs,
ands or buts.”

He sighed heavily. “It’s a moral dilemma, all right.”

“No, a moral dilemma is deciding whether to send a thank-you note to Aunt Matilda for giving me an insult disguised as a ‘thoughtful’
early Christmas present.” Mina stared at the letter. “But we’re talking homicide here. Not much gray about that, is there?”

The Reverend frowned thoughtfully. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. I think, when the time comes, you must follow your heart and your
conscience. Think of the greater good.”

The greater good. How did one define the greater good? On a personal level or a universal one? Could Mina really kill another
human being? Even for Riordan? Trembling, Mina nodded her response, then watched as Reverend Mae-pus apologetically murmured
about another appointment.

Appointment. She had one of those, too. In . . . way too little time to make a decision of this caliber.

An hour later, technically just prior to sunset, Mina was shoving the letter, along with the cornerstone, into a backpack.
Past the shock, she was now just mad. At any target she could conjure in her distress.

Chief at the moment might be Riordan. Mostly because he was the source of her distress.

He just damn well better not give up on his innocence and a chance at life. Determined and increasingly pissed about the stakes
of today’s stupid meeting, Mina slung the backpack over her shoulder and climbed into her car to drive to the outskirts of
town. She paused to nod at a guard as she drove past the gate, then parked in an open space.

“A Druid grove meeting in a state park, ” she scoffed, throwing the car into park and climbing out. “Now I’ve seen it all.
Maybe Smoky Bear will attend.” Mina continued muttering nervously to herself, glancing right and left and ahead. She crossed
the lot and stepped off asphalt onto a path that, according to the map that so mysteriously appeared on her coffee table,
ran toward the center of the park. Then, as instructed, she veered off and moved farther into the trees, backpack bouncing
heavily against her spine. “I swear to God, if this gets me lost or eaten by bears, a certain puca will pay dearly.”

You won’t get lost.

“Riordan.” She halted, her knees weakening with relief. “Thank God. Where have you been? I’ve been terrified that they zapped
you completely beyond my reach.”

Well, I was. A gag order to precede the meeting, or so I was told.
I’m sorry I didn’t warn you. I wasn’t given much warning myself.

“But you’re here now. So, are you like here-in-the-park here now? Or just-here-inside-my-head here?”

I’m in the park. Go a little beyond the big oak tree with the
scarred trunk, and you’ll see a clearing. Keep going.

Surer, now, Mina moved more quickly, stepping over roots and around trees. “Any idea what poison ivy looks like? I don’t have
a clue.”

Little nature girl, aren’t you? Your mother would be ashamed.

“Thank you.”

A chuckle echoed hollowly in her head.

“Will I see you again? At the clearing?”

Yes. I’ll be there, in all my manliness.
His tone was self-mocking.

Well, that explained Teague’s disappearance. Apparently, right at this moment, Teague and Riordan were one in every sense
of the word. “That’s great. But . . . why?”

Why am I whole right now? For practical reasons. The Druids
can’t judge me unless I’m completely present, in a corporeal sense.
Otherwise, the judgment is weakened.

“What if you didn’t show? You could maybe fake your presence, couldn’t you? Let them cast their judgment and, whatever it
is, try to fight your way free of it later?”

Silence echoed in her mind before Riordan spoke heavily.
Once upon a time, I would have been tempted to try. The man
I used to be would have done anything to free himself. I’m not
him anymore. I’ll be there, body and soul.

“Oh, Riordan.” How could she be annoyed and yet proud of him, all at the same time?

Sucks to be you, doesn’t it?
Riordan’s voice was amused, as he echoed a phrase she’d used on him more than once.

“Oh, buddy, you have no idea.”

What does that mean? And why do you have this wall up in
your mind? I thought we were done with that.
He sounded hurt.

Mina struggled to harden her heart. It was for his own good that she kept that wall raised. He just didn’t know it.

What don’t I know?
Now he sounded grim.

Mina reinforced the sagging wall. “None of your business. A woman has a right to a few private thoughts. I’d hate for your
head to swell any more than it already has.”

And now you’re bluffing like hell. Do not do anything stupid,
Mina. I won’t have you hurt by this any more than you already
have been. Understand?

Mina didn’t respond.

Mina, please. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened
to you.

She relented. “Nothing will happen to me.”

It better not.

His words were still sounding in her mind as she stepped beyond a group of trees and came to the clearing. Fully two dozen
men and women dressed in white robes and . . . athletic shoes? baseball caps? . . . stood in the clearing. All wore somber
expressions and ranged in age from early twenties to elderly. One man, his robe trimmed in gold, stood in the center of the
group.

Mina cleared her throat. “Hi. I’m Mina Avery. The, uh,
guardian
.” She glanced around the gathering until she saw him.

“Riordan!” She rushed to him.

“Mina mine.” He caught her up in his arms.

She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. “Oh, but I’ve missed your sorry ass.”

“Me, too.”

She started chuckling. “ ‘Me, too’ as in, you missed me, too, or you missed your sorry ass, too?”

“Both. Behave yourself, woman.”

She pulled back and looked up into his dear face, those lovely green eyes. Gold flecks. Both Riordan and Teague, in one man,
one man she loved with her whole heart. Moved beyond words, she slid her hands up his neck to cup those lean cheeks and skim
his smiling mouth, sharp nose, long eyelashes and noble brow.

“Noble?” He sounded pained.

“Well, damn it, it is. You look like such a freaking aristocrat. It’s no wonder that you get all the girls and their daddies
all curse you.”

“
Precisely
.”

Mina jumped and pulled back.

The response had come from the Druid wearing the gold-trimmed robe. He raised his chin. “That’s exactly why we’re gathered
here today. Because this man has wronged a woman in the past. And, as I understand it, a woman in the present.”

“What? Who?” She turned an outraged gaze on Riordan. “When did you have time and opportunity to wrong some woman in the present?”

Riordan brushed her hair back from her face. “I think he’s talking about you, babe.”

“Me?” Baffled, she turned back to the Druid. “How did he wrong
me
? I’m not wronged. And wouldn’t
I
be the best judge of that anyway?”

“What he might have snowed you into believing is beside the point. The facts speak for themselves. This man used deception
to—yet again—seduce a human.”

“What do you mean, he used deception to seduce a human? And how would you know, anyway? Do you go crawling around people’s
bedrooms, spying on them?”

“Mina—”

The High Druid shrugged. “The puca was sucked back inside the cornerstone, wasn’t he? That’s a sure sign he violated his
geas
. Akker’s probably spinning in his grave right now.”

“You think he lied to seduce me?” She eyed him with disbelief. “Well, I have news for you, you backward-thinking naturists.
He didn’t lie or seduce me. In fact, I’m the one who seduced him. So cram that in your bong and smoke it.”

Riordan’s shoulders were shaking.

The High Druid looked taken aback, and he glanced at his cohorts, who all looked equally thoughtful. Finally one spoke up.
“I assume he resisted you? Said no, perhaps?”

“Could
you
?” That was Riordan, incorrigible as ever, eyeing the male Druid as though sizing him up for a frilly dress. “I mean, look
at the woman. Who could resist her?”

“Will you please shut up? You’re ruining this, ” Mina stage-whispered. “And it’s important.” Torn between tears and laughter
herself, Mina turned her back on Riordan and faced the Druid. “There are different kinds of resistance. Riordan resisted gently—not
wanting to hurt my feelings, of course—but I can be really, really persuasive when I want to be.” She subtly assumed a pose,
attempting Mata Hari sluttishness. Given the doubtful look in the Druid’s eyes, she had to assume her performance fell short.