Under the Skin (28 page)

G
lory!”

I shoved my gun back into the holster and, pushing past Joss, I reached into the box where the shrouded form slumped against the side. Still, so terribly still. The bag or pillowcase or whatever it was covering the head came off with one tug, revealing my sister’s pale face and half-closed eyes. She lolled forward.

“Glory!” I put my hand to her cheek. Warm—and then there was a fluttering of her eyelashes and a ragged indrawn breath. “Joss, help me lift her out of here.”

“You take this.” He thrust his flashlight at me and leaned over the box. “I’ll get her.”

Reaching into the cramped box, he scooped her limp body up gently into his arms and arranged the thermal blanket around her.

“Still breathing, thank god! Do you suppose she’s been drugged? Maybe chloroform or something on the bag that was on her head?”

I sniffed at the bag that was still in my hand. “I don’t think so. The bag is damp but all it smells like is laundry
detergent. In books they always talk about a sickly sweet odor.”

“Maybe it’s something else then. I’m going to get her upstairs—you’ll have to shine the light ahead of me.” He turned, ready to retrace our steps.

Casting a hurried glance into the odd box, I looked to see if there was anything in it that would give a clue to Gloria’s abductor. But, except for a stray leg wrapping, the odd little chamber was empty now.

What
was
that box anyway?
I wondered, as I followed just behind and a little to the side of Joss so that I could keep my headlamp focused on the way ahead and the other light on the floor in front of him. The strange box had looked specifically designed for one person to sit in—high at one end with a low board as a seat, and about knee height at the other end. Puzzling. But not so puzzling as how my sister had gotten there.

We inched our way through the underground maze of pillars and boxes and shrouded shapes. Gloria, who had been so still, began to stir.

“Hang in there, Glory!” I reached out and squeezed her twitching foot. “We’re almost out of here!”

As the foot of the stairs came in sight, I could hear Joss whispering to Gloria. “It’s okay,” he crooned, “everything’s okay. I have you now, my little mother.”

My little mother …
Was this really happening? A psychic hairstylist had managed to get a son looking for a mother and a mother looking for a child to the same place … with this result. And this same psychic hairstylist had “seen” that Gloria was in a box in a basement. And she had somehow gotten there without anyone in this facility noticing anything amiss.

Who was it that talked about believing six impossible things before breakfast? Oh, yes, Lewis Carroll’s Red Queen—I was going to have to work at this.

“Watch out for the—”

My warning was interrupted by the clatter of the tray falling down the stairs. The same tray I’d put there to protect at least one clear footprint of whoever had carried Gloria down the steps. Joss had stumbled momentarily and put out a hand to catch himself. A hand which was now, I could see, covered with the dust of that fine footprint. Had that stumble been intentional? Another thing to ponder.

As we emerged into the light of the storage room, Gloria spoke.

“Joss? How did you …” She put out a wondering hand and laid it on his cheek. “Never mind—she said that someone would come. But how … how
perfect
that it was you …”

She was gazing up at him with a look of such complete confidence and pure happiness that I hesitated before breaking into this communion. But I had to know what had happened.

“Are you all right, Glory? How did—”

“I’m perfectly fine, Lizzy. Joss, you can put me down now.”

Gathering the thermal blanket about herself like a bulky sarong, my sister managed to look somehow dignified and radiant at the same time. I wanted to hug her—but I was also tempted to shake her till that beatific smile faded.

“What the bloody hell happened to you? Why weren’t you hollering for help? Or—”

“Lizzy, could we postpone all this till I can get a shower? I’m unharmed and I’d just like to get into my clothes and out of here. Joss can stay with me while you go tell the manager we’re canceling the massages. And for goodness’ sake, don’t make a big
thing
out of this.”

I was bewildered. “A big thing! What was I supposed to think? I was just about to call the police when Joss showed up and said he knew where you were.
Of course
it’s a big thing. I’m going to call them now so maybe we can find out who—”

“Elizabeth Grace Grey, do
not
call the police. We can talk this over with Phil—later. I think it might be a good idea to cut our stay short and go back to the farm.”

For a single stunned moment I stared at her. Then I threw up my hands in surrender. “That suits me fine but what about the rest of the sessions with Giles? I thought you wanted to—”

Again with the beatific smile. “Not now, I don’t.” She reached up to touch Joss’s face. “I have what I came for.”

So I pulled the door shut, relocked the padlock, and shoved the supply cart back in place while Joss, sporting a matching beatific smile, accompanied Gloria back to the treatment room to get her clothing. I, meanwhile, went to let the manager know that we’d found my sister.

The reception area was full of people waiting to check in, all trying to talk to the manager. The poor harassed woman was so happy to hear we didn’t want to stay for our massages (there was a honeymoon couple waiting for the double treatment room) that she didn’t ask any hard questions.

“Tell your sister I’ll adjust the bill and only charge her for the hot tub—we’ll just strike off the Head to Toe.” She tapped away at her computer and then lowered her voice to ask me, “Is there going to be a problem?”

Is there going to be a problem?

I was asking myself that very question as the three of us walked back through the grounds of the spa to the inn. Gloria, seemingly totally unfazed by her experience, and Joss were walking side by side, saying little, but apparently trying to memorize each other’s features. I trailed a little behind, unwilling to intrude on this reunion of mother and son
—if that’s what it really is
—and
on the lookout for—for what? A black Hummer? A linens delivery van?

I was alone in my concern. Gloria was far more interested in the color of Joss’s eyes and the set of his ears than investigating what had just happened. Joss’s miraculous rescue of her had evidently tipped the balance in his favor and I wondered how my sister was ever going to tear herself away from this young man whom she had clearly decided was the long-lost Dana.

The answer was quick in coming. As we walked up the driveway to the inn, Gloria stopped and wheeled round. “Joss has to come back to the farm with us, Lizzy. You can understand that, I’m sure. That upstairs guest room—he could stay there? Just for a few days while I make some plans.”

“I don’t want to put you out.” Joss gave me an apologetic look. “But if I could … There’s so much to learn about my … my mother … and my real family.”

His dark eyes were pleading; Gloria’s were steely. I bowed to the inevitable and said that of course Joss could come home with us. And truly, the two of them were so transformed, so blissfully, gloriously happy in this newfound relationship that it would have taken a heart of ice to refuse.

Like a general deploying her troops, Gloria took charge. Joss was sent to go pack his belongings and meet us at the car in an hour.

“You and I both need showers, Lizzy, and … would you mind speaking with Giles? Look, he’s over there on that bench beneath the magnolia. The next session doesn’t start for”—she glanced at her watch—“a little while. Just run over and let him know we’re ducking out early—you can explain why, if you like. I want to get a shower and start packing. It always takes me so long to do it right.”

Whereas you just throw things in any old way—packing
will probably take you all of three minutes
was the unspoken part of her request. But her eyes were shining, so once again, I said that would be fine; I’d go speak to Giles.

“Thank you—Sissy.” She gave me a hug. “You don’t know how much this means.”

Disengaging herself she added, “And let the innkeeper know we’re leaving early, would you?”

I watched her trot up the steps to the porch with an airy wave in Giles’s direction. He lifted his hand to her in a gesture comprised of equal parts of benediction and farewell then turned his gaze on me as I plodded toward him.

“So she and Joss believe their searches are at an end.” Giles patted the bench beside him, inviting me to sit. I did, aware that I smelled powerfully of whatever fragrant oil had been on those wrappings while I was hydrating.

I nodded. “Yes, they do. Gloria has decided to cut short our stay here. She and Joss and I will be going back to my farm this afternoon.”

Giles’s brow furrowed but he didn’t speak.

“I’m sorry—I hope this doesn’t mess up the sessions. But my sister’s made up her mind—she said to thank you …”

The medium looked away from me, rubbing his chin in that meditative way of a man troubled by something but unwilling to speak.

“The sessions were very interesting.” I was doing that southern lady thing again—making nice, not letting a silence fall. I hurried on. “And, if it weren’t for the coincidence of Joss—”

“Coincidence,” Giles repeated. He appeared to roll the word around in his mind before speaking. “There are those who believe there are no coincidences. And I must say, I find this one a little troubling. But, Elizabeth,
I’m afraid I must burden you with something you’d perhaps rather not hear. I’d hoped you’d discover it for yourself in one of our next sessions”—the look he gave me was shrewd—“if, indeed, you haven’t already received a communication.”

The memory of my strange experience in the morning session came back in a rush—the beating of wings, the talons, and Sam’s voice, sounding a warning in my head. I closed my eyes to escape Giles’s penetrating gaze.

“Someone you were very close to—not a blood relation, I think, but a husband or a lover—is trying to communicate with you. The energy was so strong this morning that though the message was clearly directed to you, some of it came through to me.

“It’s a bit like … like picking up a telephone and inadvertently overhearing part of a conversation. You clearly didn’t wish to share your communication with the group and I’d have left it at that but for the fact that I’ve continued to feel …” He rubbed his chin again. “I feel that this spirit is trying to make sure you heed the warning he gave you.”

Giles gave me an apologetic look. “It
was
a warning, was it not?”

I closed my eyes. “Yes. Yes, it was.”

“I thought so—something about a large bird falling from the sky and danger—that was all I got. Is that similar to your message?”

“Yes, very similar.” My eyes were still closed but I could see again the scenes that had assailed me during the morning session. I had seen a small airplane attacked by a giant bird and spiraling out of control to an inevitable crash in the green mountains beneath—just as Sam’s plane had gone down.

We sat silent on the bench in the sleepy afternoon sun. Somewhere in the distance a lawn mower was purring; nearer I could hear the small rustlings of birds in the big
tree behind us and the sharp warning cry of a blue jay across the lawn. Bees buzzed; from within the inn I heard the deep twanging chime of an old grandfather clock. The heat of the sun, the fragrance of new-mown grass, as well as the floral scents arising from my own body, were all combining to lull me into a drowsy state from which—

“There’s another thing, Elizabeth.”

I started, snapped out of the mesmerized, floating state I’d been in. “What? What other thing? Isn’t a warning enough?”

Giles was staring across the lawn at the old stone steps that led down to the road. He didn’t look at me as he spoke. “There’s danger in the message—for you or someone near you. I felt I had to tell you that. But the other thing is this. Your sister asked to speak to her lost child, the child she’d been told had died at birth. And there was a response—”

“Well, yes—Joss jumped up and said
Mama
. We all heard him.”

Giles continued to study the sunken stone steps. “No,” he said at last, his voice soft, “I meant the first response.
That
came from the other side.”

Saturday, May 26

Y
ou see, Phil, Lizzy was sound asleep on the other massage table, snoring—yes, you were, Lizzy, snoring so loud that I was about to reach over and wake you up and then I heard the door open and I assumed it was the massage therapists coming back and the next thing I knew someone was pulling a wet bag of some sort over my head. Well, at first I thought it was part of the treatment but then I was being picked up and carried somewhere and this voice—”

Phillip watched as Gloria shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself before continuing. “This weird voice whispered that if I made a sound, he’d make sure it was my last. I could feel us going down some steps and then he dumped me in this weird box and shut the lid.”

At his side, Elizabeth spoke up. “Okay, Glory, so you were afraid to make any noise at first. I can understand that. But when Joss found you …”

Joss. Phillip studied the intense, rather too pretty young man sitting beside Gloria, his dark eyes fixed on her. There was something about him, Phillip thought, something a little—was
manic
the right word? Maybe that wasn’t fair. If this whole story was true, if Gloria and Joss had only recently found that he was her lost child, then that could explain the look of wild excitement.
And then there was the bandage, sitting slightly askew on the young man’s head
—that
added to the impression of a person a few bricks shy of a load.