Always Love a Villain on San Juan Island (37 page)

“Yes, Noel?”

“Quick question. How can I locate your nephew Trent?”

Silence on the line. Then Larry said, “I don't have a nephew named Trent.”

“You sure? On your wife's side maybe?”

“I know my nieces and nephews. I don't have that many.”

“So Susanna doesn't have a cousin with that name.”

“I've just told you.”

“Okay, got it,” said Noel. “Thanks.”

“What's this about?”

“Not sure yet. Talk to you later.”

“But why—”

Noel broke the connection. “Susanna doesn't have a cousin named Trent.”

“So who's this Frank guy?”

“Someone curious about a young woman who's been kidnapped.”

“Better talk to Jordan Beck directly.”

Why would Noel be asking about a nephew who doesn't exist? He'd demand clarification. But right then Toni was about to leave, and she seemed upset. She'd been abstracted since leaving the lab. Had the dream images unsettled her? She'd been in the guest bedroom with the door closed since they'd come back.

He climbed the stairs and knocked on the door. “Toni?” No answer. He turned the handle, pushed, and stepped inside. She was lying on the bed, dressed as earlier in that highly complimentary blue suit. She didn't move as he approached. Very much unlike her, her usual spirit so diminished. “You okay?” When she didn't answer, he walked around to the far side of the bed and sat. He took her hand, which felt cold. “Toni? What's the matter?”

She turned to him, seemed to try to smile, failed. Her head moved a little. “I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

“I should be so—so happy for you. For your dream visualization work. It's remarkable, what you've done. But it's just left me—exhausted.” She sighed long and loud, took away her hand, and sat, lowering her bare feet down the other side of the bed. “I need to be on the 11:30 ferry, Larry.” She stood. “I can't miss the Geneva flight.”

He smiled. “Then you have an extra five minutes. The ferry leaves at 11:35.”

“All right! All right. Whenever it leaves.”

He scurried around to the other side of the bed. He took her hand. “Toni. You have to tell me what's wrong.”

She smiled, her eyes sad. “You wouldn't believe me.” She slipped her feet into her shoes.

“Try.”

She walked over to her closed suitcase. “I've got to go.” He reached for her case. She grabbed it first. “I've got it.”

He followed her down the stairs. At the bottom he took her by the elbow. “Toni, I can't let you go off like this.”

She glared at him. “How would you like to let me go, then?”

“A little more calmly. With an explanation.”

“There aren't any explanations that you'd like to hear. Maybe one day. Not today.”

“Is it me? Have I done something wrong?”

“That's quite possible.”

“What? And how can I make it right?”

“We'll talk about this later. Perhaps. But now I'm going.” She kissed his cheek lightly. “It's been—fun.”

He pulled away, stunned. “You mean you're leaving completely? For good?”

“Let's just say, for now.”

“I could follow you down to the ferry. You'll have a long wait. We could talk.”

“Not now.” She stepped up to the front door, opened it, walked out.

Larry trailed her as far as the drive and watched her get into her car. She started it up. He waved. She didn't look back.

He realized he was trembling. This wasn't happening. Nothing left of the past wonderful time, really? Impossible. What had he done? Had she really left forever? Toni gone. No no no! His throat felt chokingly tight, his chest full of pounding pain. He realized he was crying. He hadn't cried in years.

Yes, Jordan Beck was home; of course Noel Franklin could come by.

Five minutes and Kyra and Noel arrived, a room in a house on Gillis Road. He met them at the door. Noel introduced Kyra as a friend. They sat in wooden chairs on the deck.

Noel said, “We need a small favor from you.”

“Sure. Anything. Go ahead.”

“I've just spoken with Peter Langley. You partied last night at Thor's.”

“Yep. He told me my thesis was accepted and I'm getting my degree.”

“Well, congratulations. Look, Jordan, Peter said that last night somebody named Frank tried to find out anything he could about Susanna Rossini.”

“Yeah, but she's okay; she's off in Oregon.”

“It's this fellow Frank we want to talk to now.”

“Oh. Sure.” He blinked, raised his eyebrows quizzically. “Why?”

“We'd like to find him. You know his last name?”

Jordan shook his head and grimaced. “He said, but I can't remember. He didn't talk much, just asked questions about Susanna.”

“Anybody else talk to him when you weren't around? Who else was there?”

“Well, a guy named Spider Jester, and Raina Gadwich; they're sometimes a couple and sometimes not. And Tom Fergusson, he came by himself but by the end he was with Sara something; she's new. They went off together. Leger! That's his name, Frank's.”

Kyra said, “Got a phone book?”

“Yeah, but he won't be in it; he's just here for a month, going to do some painting. That's what he said. It's a vacation.” His eyes opened wide. “Wait a minute. Raina said she'd seen him before. He's rented a house on her road. You better talk to Raina.”

“She'd be at home now? Or working?”

“She's at work, Chamber of Commerce. Cute kid, short black hair.”

Noel nodded. “I think I've met her.” Good. He knew half the people around that table at Thor's. “Thanks, Jordan.”

To the car, to the Chamber. Raina, intense in conversation with a tourist. When the tourist left, Noel stood across the counter from her. “Hello.”

“What can I help you with, sir?”

“You already have. You helped me locate Spider Jester.”

“Oh, I remember. You found him then, did you?”

“With your help. And now I need your help again. I'm trying to locate a man named Frank Leger. He was at Thor's last night helping Jordan Beck celebrate. Jordan said you know where he lives.”

She giggled. “I do, actually. I live up the road from him. Just saw him this morning again. I wanted to be neighborly. He didn't.”

“Do you know the address?”

“The Odlum place. On Mount Dallas Road. No idea about the address—I can look it up.” She checked the phone book. “Yep.” She wrote the number down. “You probably won't find it even with a number. But it's halfway up the road, left-hand side going uphill. Sort of green, two floors. You'll see it from the road. Can't miss it.”

Larry Rossini took a second shot of Laphroig. His temples were already buzzing. Crazy to be drinking Scotch at eleven in the morning, but it did dull the pain.

Last night he'd felt himself to be the luckiest man in the world, today the least lucky. The inventor of a revolutionary technological process. In love with the most marvelous woman. Toni dangled before him, then snatched away. Had the Dream Visualizer been the cause? Because everything was fine until she watched the visualizations. She'd come to his side; he could feel her electricity watching the screen, watching Karl. How could she seem so loving and tender in the lab, then so completely distant, then gone minutes later? He didn't understand.

But if it turned out that the Visualizer was the cause of her leaving, then he would get rid of it and the research that lay behind it. Morsely University could have it all. Richard O'Hara take it and be damned!

The Visualizer was definitely the reason for Susanna being kidnapped, her life in danger. She'd told him she was fine, just locked in a room. Impossible to believe. Had his ego, his stubbornness, been the cause of this malevolence that had entered his life?

Out along Douglas to Bailer Hill Road. “Okay,” Kyra said, “what do we know?”

“Okay. Susanna has been an invisible entity for nearly three weeks. The Sheriff's office has found no trace. Then some guy named Frank appears, asking questions. We know where he lives. We hope we can find the place.”

“But why is he looking for her? Not because ‘cousin Trent' told him to look her up on San Juan.”

“We'll just have to ask him, right?”

Onto West Side Road and soon Mt. Dallas Road. Lots of roads on San Juan Island, Kyra thought. None of them paved with the right intentions. Twisty windy road, Mt. Dallas. As a road that climbed a mountain should be. They looked for numbers. Saw very few. Reached the turnaround at the top. Too far, back down. Halfway up, Raina had said. At least now they knew how far all the way up was. Noel headed down.

“It'll be on the right, now.” Kyra, making what was obvious sound appropriately banal. “Green, two storeys,” she muttered.

They passed three West Coast cedar-sided houses, several driveways heading into the woods where the houses weren't visible, a gray house, a stone house. Around a curve, partly behind trees, a green two-storey house. Coming downhill, easier angle for spotting it. Car beneath a carport. “Maybe somebody's home,” said Noel. No room to park on the road, so he pulled into the driveway and stopped. Kyra grabbed her purse and they got out. They walked up steps to the stoop, glancing through a window to its left. Looked like a living room. No one there. The front door was waist-to-top smoked glass with an oak frame. To the left, a white plastic doorbell. Noel pressed it and he heard a ringing inside. They waited. No response. He rang again.

Kyra said, “Let's go explore.”

Not too long ago, Noel would have taken that as trespassing. He still didn't enjoy this part of any investigation. But he agreed.

Kyra glanced at him. “It'll be okay.”

“That obvious?”

“Not as much as it used to be. At least we're not breaking in anywhere.”

“Course not. We're looking for Frank Leger. He could be out back in the garden.” A gate stood between carport and house. Behind it a fenced-in area. Kyra opened the gate.