The Dollmaker's Daughters (Bo Bradley Mysteries, Book Five) (33 page)

"Oh, shit," Bo breathed, wadding her raincoat into the kitchen sink.

The girl couldn't take much more, that was obvious. And more was unquestionably on the way. Bo secured the deck doors and then pulled the drapes over them. No point in advertising Janny's presence to whoever might be outside, looking in. And a decision had to be made. Either let Janny in on the available truth about her life, or continue to hide it from
her as her psychological resources crumbled under the weight of intolerable stress.

"Eva?" Bo said softly from the bedroom door. "I think it's time Janny knew what's going on."

"Risky," the psychiatrist answered, watching Teless drying Janny's hair with Bo's terrycloth bathrobe. "But it might work. Quickly, though. And no affect. Teless and I will be right here."

Teless had heard the exchange, and nodded.

" 'Affect’
in this case means drama," Bo told her. "You are about to hear a shocking story. Don't react as you normally would. Just help Janny by saying calm things, okay?"

"
Oui, sha
," Teless whispered in affirmation, and then pulled the thick fabric from Janny's ears.

"This is just a doll," Bo began, sitting beside Janny Malcolm on the bed and touching the bisque face the girl's grandfather had designed fifteen years in the past. "But there really was a Kimmy, and you're right, Kimmy is gone. It's a very sad story, but it's your story, Janny. I want you to know what it is."

The girl's face, smudged with its ruined Goth makeup, watched Bo intently. "There was a Kimmy? I'm not crazy?" she asked.

"No, dear, you ar
e not," Eva Broussard said quietl
y. "You are hurt and confused and possibly aware of a recent death in some way, but you are not crazy. You're a healthy, bright young woman who needs to hear some painful truths so you can make sense of the things that have happened to you."

"What things?" Janny asked, gripping Teless's hand.

Bo listened to rain pelting the deck doors, then turned to Janny.

"You had a twin sister," she began, "and her name was
Kimberly. She was called Kimmy. When you and your sister were eighteen months old something terrible happened. Someone hit Kimmy's head, causing an injury to her brain from which she died only four days ago. In the thirteen years since it happened Kimmy has had no awareness. She has been in no pain. For all practical purposes, she's been in a kind of coma, cared for at a facility in Los Angeles. Then the time finally came for her to die. It happened the night you were at Goblin Market. And you may have felt her death in some way, but it's over now. Your twin sister is at peace and you are just fine. That's the way it is, Janny."

"Then Kimmy is the
roogaroo
?" Janny said, turning wide-
eyed to Teless.

"No,
sha
," Teless smiled and wrapped an arm
around the other girl. "
Roogaro
o
's just a made-up thing mamas use to scare their kids
, like 'Better behave or
roogaro
o
's gonna get you.' This here thing Bo's told you is just the truth. Dead folk don't walk, 'cept in stories."

"But somebody really is trying to get me!" Janny insisted. "Everybody thinks I made it up, but there was somebody outside my window at the Schroders'. I saw—"

"There was somebody there, Janny," Bo agreed. "I checked it out and the ice plant was crushed all the way up the hill to the schoolyard. I don't know who it was, but there are sick men who sneak around looking at women through open windows. You know about Peeping Toms, right?"

"Yeah," Janny sniffled, "but what about my parents? What happened to them? How could they just leave my sister in a place like that and leave me in all these shitty foster homes? Are they dead? Where are they?"

Bo traced a small reindeer on one of her pillowcases. Janny couldn't han
dle everything at once
. And Eva was
exuding a force field that said, Stop. Bo rose and took the scapular Tamlin Lafferty had given her from the dresser drawer where she'd put it when she got home.

"I'm afraid your mother has passed away, Janny. She lived in a convent until her death. These holy pictures are from that convent. I thought you might like to have them."

"Hey, I had one of these when I was little," Teless said. "Father Donneaux made all us kids wear 'em. They're supposed to protect you, Janny."

"My mother was Catholic?" Janny said, puzzled. "Does that mean I am?"

Bo smiled at the rather ordinary struggle for identity taking place before her. The fact that it was ordinary made it a miracle. Janny would have a great deal to process before this was over, but her initial react
ions were ego-centered and age-
appropriate. Eva, also smiling, stretched and looked at her watch.

"You will have many more questions later, but for now you have enough to digest," she told Janny. "And we do have something of a problem with w
hich you may be able to help. Fir
st, why did your social worker, Mr. Perry, leave?"

Janny hung the scapular over her shoulders and studied the picture in front, a pretty girl in a golden scarf, holding a lily and a Bible with a shamrock on the front.

"Well, it was sort of strange, I guess. He called the hospital to let them know what time we'd be back. I mean, it was going to be a little bit later than we said, since going to Goblin Market and all. And then I heard him tell Mr. St. John that somebody had called the hospital and said there was an emergency, some kind of crisis thing, and they wanted Mr. Perry to come and nobody else. Except he told Mr. St. John he'd never heard of the people that called, or the address."

"Psychiatric social workers sometimes go out on crisis intervention calls," Bo explained. "When one of their clients, somebody they know well, is hallucinating or having other problems at home, sometimes a familiar professional face can be reassuring. Rombo was called to do a crisis intervention. It's an emergency. Of course he would go immediately, assuming Janny would be safe with Martin."

Eva Broussard had found a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt in Bo's dresser. "The other question we must ask both of you is this," she went on. "Did either of you see the person who attacked Martin St. John?"

"No, ma'am, I didn't," Teless said. "Mr. St
.
John was singing, sort of making fun of the Goth songs, you know? He was singing this made-up song about a vampire decorating service, and we were really laughing, and then something happened and he yelled 'Run!' and we did."

"Is that how you remember it
,
Janny?" Bo asked.

"Yeah. I was so scared, I thought it was, you know, Kimmy. I just ran. I didn't even look back, but I felt like it was following us!"

"Someone
was
following you," Bo confirmed. "Until Daniel Man Deer showed up. Then whoever it was ran away. You weren't imagining it Janny."

"But who ..." Janny began.

"We honestly don't know," Eva said, smoothing the girl's damp hair. "There are some strange things connected to your situation, but the police are handling them. What's important at the moment is that you and Teless are safe and that Martin is receiving medical care from Dr. LaMarche. It will be best for you to return to the hospital as quickly as possible tonight Janny. It's the safest place for you. And Bo," she added, taking the borrowed sweats into the bathroom to change, "I'll be staying here."

"Good," Bo agreed as Andrew and Daniel led Martin St
.
John through her door, followed by an ashen Rombo Perry. The former boxer's hands were knotted in fists and Bo could see the shoulder muscles tensed beneath his wet shirt.

"I was set up, Bo," he announced miserably. "I should have known it when I didn't recognize the name or address on that crisis intervention call. A wild goose chase, just to get me out of the way. It was a vacant lot in Pacific Beach. And now Martin—"

"I'm going to live," Martin St
.
John smiled gamely as Andrew held a dishtowel full of ice against the lump on his head. "I just wish I'd seen it coming!"

"Rombo, you'll need to keep an eye on this for the rest of the night
,
" Andrew interrupted professionally. "Wake him up briefly every two or three hours, make sure his pupils aren't dilated, that he's oriented. If there's any more vomiting, take him to an emergency room."

"I just wish I'd been there," Rombo sighed, taking a punch into thin air that made Bo wish he'd been there as well. Although a punch like that she thought, would probably have killed Jasper Malcolm. If the follower were Jasper Malcolm.

“
Teless and I are going back to Del Mar," Andrew told Bo without meeting her eyes. "You're welcome to come."

"Thanks, Andy, but Eva's going to stay here with me. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Of course," he answered crisply, and then ushered Teless into the night as though she were made of delicate crystal.

"Nonk Andy
..." Bo heard the girl begin what would unquestionably be a meaningful talk on "Attitudes Toward
Women," but the closing door precluded any further enjoyment of the teenager's lecture.

Rombo and Dan were right behind, urging Martin and Janny to stay close as they all hurried down Bo's apartment stairs to their cars. Eva and Bo w
atched until both sets of tail
lights were lost in the rain.

"You know, Eva," Bo said thoughtfully, "the footprints of
whoever was down there on
the beach will be gone by morn
ing.
”

"They're gone now, Bo," the shrink replied, rubbing a hand through her cropped white hair. "And I'm quite tired. I hope you won't mind if I just turn off the lights and curl up on the couch. Do you have a blanket and extra pillow?"

Bo procured the required items, smiling. Eva Broussard,
she knew, existed on very littl
e sleep and was no more tired than inclined to tap dance through the rain to an all-night diner where she'd sing show tunes to an assemblage of soggy winos. But the appeal to Bo's Boston-trained sense of courtesy would assure quiet now. Not for the wiry, energetic shrink, but for her patient. Bo wondered why Andrew LaMarche couldn't see how easily she could be constrained by her own set of values rath
er than his overbearing protec
tiveness. Or if he ever would see.

After a warm shower Bo stretched comfortably between reindeer sheets and listened to Molly's soft snore from her basket. The rain was pleasant, soporific. In a while, Bo was asleep. Until something began pounding.

Groggily she propped herself on an elbow and heard Eva's voice, the door opening. Then a smell of burning wood, electric sparks, wet ashes. Muted voices, Eva's and a man's.

"What's going on?" she called, rousing Molly to growl halfheartedly.

The burnt smell reminded her of the dream she'd had. Goblin Market in flames. Except the restaurant which became Goblin Market at night was a cement-block and stucco building that couldn't really burn. A kitchen fire, maybe. But nothing drastic.

"Go back to sleep, Bradley," Pete Cullen's voice boomed from the living room. "It's all over."

Sure. With a come-on like that she'd just doze right off. His voice held an edge of vindication, of justice satisfied.

"What's all over, Pete?" she asked, dragging herself fully awake and into the kitchen. "Let's nuke up some coffee."

"Malcolm's dead," Cullen pronounced. "Coffee sounds good."

He appeared exactly as he had earlier, Bo noticed, yet he reeked of smoke and ashes. And as usual he was not bubbling over with a need to explain his remarks.

"Jasper Malcolm?" she asked.