Flight from Mayhem (17 page)

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Authors: Yasmine Galenorn

BOOK: Flight from Mayhem
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Bette snorted. “Hold your britches, sugar pie.” To Emily, she said, “It was nice to meet you. Maybe we should have a
Criminal Minds
marathon sometime. Watch from the beginning.”

“I'd like that. Stacy has no time for TV, and my son . . .
he's immersed in his schoolwork. None of my book club members share my interest in crime shows.” By the tinge in her voice, I could tell that Emily didn't get much company.

Bette handed her one of her business cards. “Absolutely. Call me when you're interested. I own all the seasons so far on DVD. We can settle ourselves in front of television with something good to eat and continue debating the merits of Rossi versus Gideon.”

And with that, we were off. As we headed back toward my house, I thought about the friends I had made since I had been exiled Earthside, and was suddenly very glad I had stolen from Greanfyr, even if it had put me in danger.

CHAPTER 10

B
y the time
I woke up and began getting ready for work, Tonya was awake. She had slept well and was nose-deep in her laptop, waiting at the table. Chai had made breakfast out of the food I'd brought—sliced strawberries and whipped cream with doughnuts. My mouth watered. Mostly, I preferred meat, but now and then sweets caught my fancy. I slid into a chair and snagged a strawberry from the plate, popping it into my mouth.

Tonya looked up. “I've been looking up the past of the house across the street. There are some interesting facts I found out about Mary that she didn't tell us.”

“Who was she? There really was a Mary?” I began filling my plate as Chai brought me a cup of coffee. He refilled Tonya's mug and then sat down with us.

“Oh, there was a Mary all right, but the story she gave you isn't quite the story that actually played out. Mary Smith—yes, I know, laugh.” She paused, grinning.

“Why should I laugh?” I was confused as to what was so funny.


Mary Smith?
Oh, right . . . over here, at least in this country, Smith is one of the most common surnames there is and a lot of people use it as an alias when they don't want people to know who they are. Mary's also a common name for a girl. So Mary Smith is . . .”

“Like an assumed name. Got it.” I filed the information away for future reference. It wasn't so much the big differences that caught me up, but the small ones.

“Right. Anyway, Mary Smith lived in that house, all right, and she did have children there, but in 1938, when she was forty, she killed her husband and her children with an axe. The baby boy was never found, but they assume she killed him, too. Mary Smith is a lovely, sweet axe murderer. She claimed that they were demons in disguise and that she had to kill them to save their lives. She managed to cop an insanity plea, though most researchers are fairly sure she was sane as you or I.”

“So our ghost was an axe murderess? Shades of Lizzie Borden.” Chai shook his head.

I wasn't sure who Lizzie Borden was but kept my mouth shut.

Tonya nodded, scanning the article. “According to this, Mary was committed to the Greenbelt Park Asylum and kept in the ward for the criminally insane. Which is smack central in your Greenbelt Park District—37501 Sythica Street. Apparently the asylum owner and his son spent fifty years tormenting the patients until there was a revolt. A group of patients seized control of the institution, killed the administrator, and slaughtered a bunch of other inmates. Then one of them, Silas Johanson, who was also a murderer, managed to burn the place to the ground by . . . well, it looks like he screwed around with the boiler in the basement and it blew up. Massive gas explosion. Three hundred fifty-seven patients died, along with twenty-five guards and twenty-four
staff members. This took place in 1959, so Mary would have been sixty-one, but she probably didn't age well.”

I tried to imagine the mayhem, but the images didn't set well. “So Mary either burned to death or was killed by another inmate.”

“Right.”

“Do you think she remembers what happened? Maybe she's tried to blot it out because she realized what she did to her family and it pushed her over the edge. I'm not sure if ghosts can have PTSD, but . . .”

“I don't know,” Tonya said, scanning the rest of the article. “She maintained to the very end that she didn't kill her baby boy. But she couldn't tell them where to find him.”

I thought over what she said. “So does it stand to pass that all people who are dangerous or psychopathic in life remain that way after death? There's so much to this that I don't understand.”

Chai shrugged. “That, I would like to know, too. I make it a point to have as little to do with spirits as I can. But I will tell you this: I feel like you just uncovered the tip of the iceberg about what's going on over there. I don't often get spooked, but right now I'm spooked.”

I turned to Tonya. “How far away are we from the Greenbelt Park Asylum? I never heard about it till now.”

Tonya pulled up Mapsi—one of the newest, best maps programs on the Internet. “You are seven blocks away from what's left. The place was pretty much destroyed. Not very far from here, really. As to your questions about spirits keeping their natures after death, I don't think anybody knows the answer to that. Unfortunately, this isn't
Beetlejuice
and we don't have a handbook to the afterlife.”

I glanced at the clock. “I have to get to work. You were going to come with me to tell us about your stalker?”

She closed her laptop. “Yeah, but can we take breakfast with us? It was too good not to have another doughnut.” As she gathered her things, Chai made up a boxed lunch for us,
along with more doughnuts, berries, and cream, and I slid into my jacket and made sure I had everything I needed.

“Bring your laptop. You can always hang out in the office and use our Wi-Fi.”

A honking from out front told us Bette had arrived and we dashed out of the door. As we jammed ourselves in the car, I wondered what kind of mood Alex would be in, and I hoped our argument was over and done with. I really didn't want to deal with a testy vampire tonight.

*   *   *

R
alph and Alex
were waiting in the conference room. As Bette and I headed in, followed by Tonya, I saw that they were dressed to head out.

“What gives?”

“We thought we had a lead on the salamander, but it ducked back in the sewers. That thing is going to eat somebody before we can catch it.” Ralph sounded pissed—so much so that I had the feeling it was over something beyond just losing track of a big fiery lizard.

I chanced a sideways glance at Alex. He returned my look rather coolly, I thought, but it could have just been my imagination. Whatever the case, we needed to get some work done and we had to be on speaking terms to manage it.

“So what next? We head out to Sultan to check on Stone Weaver, before it gets pitch-black?”

“Right. Let's get the daily meeting over with first.” Alex motioned for us to sit down, nodding at Tonya. “All right, you mentioned you had a problem when you first arrived. Have a seat and tell us about it. Ralph—notes, please.”

“Will do.” Ralph began to type as she talked.

“As I told Chai and Shimmer, I think I'm being stalked, but I'm not sure. Maybe it's my imagination but one way or another, I need to find out. If I am, then I need to put a stop to it. If not? Then I can rest my mind. But you guys have a pressing matter, it sounds like. I'd rather you take care of it
first. I'll be in town several days, so there's always tomorrow night if we run out of time tonight.” She smiled, then added, “And I wanted to ask if you minded if I tag along? I really don't feel like sitting alone with my thoughts.”

I glanced up, realizing that Alex didn't know about Degoba's marriage. I'd fill him in later.

Alex glanced at the clock. “Since it's going to take so long to get out there, fine by me. We have nothing else on the slate tonight except the salamander and that's at a standstill for now, so let's head out to Sultan and track down the Elemental Fae.” He picked up his tablet and notebook. “Bette, hold down the fort while we're gone. If anybody wants to talk business, make an appointment for tomorrow night.”

She nodded. “I hope you find him. Stone's a good man. He's shy, and not very forthcoming, but he's a good-hearted soul.”

And with that, we were off, into the Range Rover, and on our way to North Sultan.

*   *   *

R
ather than take
the freeway, since it was past rush hour, we decided to take the more direct route. From our office, which was also on the outskirts of the Greenbelt Park District, we pulled onto Highway 522 and headed east, around the northern edge of Lake Washington. Though it was rainy and dark, the traffic was light and we made good time. We passed through the upper Eastside—a group of Seattle bedroom communities composed of a number of suburbs. The drive was about forty-five minutes during light traffic, and we were making decent time.

As we reached Woodinville, Ralph let out a sigh from the backseat he was sharing with Tonya.

“I have to get something off my chest.” He didn't sound happy at all.

I glanced over my shoulder. “What's up?”

“Remember my parents came to visit? Well, they've
given me an ultimatum.” He shifted uncomfortably. “My brother ran off—he left his wife and kids for another woman. He turned against the Pack, and he's shamed our family. My parents disowned him, but there's only one thing that can be done to restore honor for the family.”

Alex let out a low grunt. “If it's what I think it is, then yes, you are in a pickle.”

I frowned. “I know nothing of werewolf hierarchy or rules. What's going on?”

Ralph pursed his lips. “Alex knows. Since I'm not married, and I'm the oldest son, I'm expected to marry his wife and take responsibility for her and my nephews.”

I blinked. For some reason, that possibility hadn't crossed my mind. In the Dragon Reaches, divorce and abandonment happened, but the
community
rallied around the injured party if there was nothing to spur on the abandonment and made sure they were properly cared for.

Tonya cleared her throat. “Do you want to marry the woman?”

Ralph shot her an incredulous look. “I don't even know if I want to
get married
, period. I mean, I like her—she's always been a sweetheart, and yes, my brother was a cad. But me? A father? With a wife who I didn't choose? I'm not sure I'm up to it.” He sounded miserable.

“What happens if you refuse?” I asked.

Ralph shrugged. “My parents will take her and the children in—that's what they would do if she were widowed and there were no other sons. But I'd be seen as a disgrace and shunned by the Pack for not doing my duty. Essentially, like my brother, I'll be considered pathetic and useless.” He let out a soft groan. “I don't know what to do. I love my family, I love my Pack, but damn, what if I meet someone who I fall head over heels for? What if I'm stuck forever in an arranged marriage?”

Tonya reached out and patted his arm. “I'm sorry, Ralph.”

Alex stared at the road as the asphalt disappeared beneath
our car. We were past Woodinville now, headed northeast toward Maltby. After a while we'd pass through the town of Monroe, then turn right onto Highway 2, leading toward Sultan on the way to Stevens Pass.

“What does your heart tell you to do?” Alex asked after a brief silence.

Ralph hesitated, then, “Marry her. There's a reason we have rules in the Pack. And if we can't abide by them, it's out you go. The Pack looks after its members. We're all responsible for doing so. And if I shirk this, then I shirk more than duty. I shirk my honor. My brother fucked up. He had no complaints against Shayla, but instead of divorcing her the proper way and making certain his children were supported, he just up and ran off, leaving her to file for divorce and scrounge to make ends meet. Hell, I'm ashamed of him. I never want anything to do with Freddy again.”

The conflict was roiling in him—I could feel it like I could feel the turmoil of ocean waves. He wanted to do the right thing, but that meant sacrificing his freedom and hopes for the future.

“You won't resent her, though? I mean, how will she feel if she knows you're taking her and the kids on just because the Pack says you have to? Just so you won't be thrown out? I can't imagine that's going to help her self-esteem any more than it did when your brother left her high and dry. Alex got stuck with me but it was business. With you, we're talking about
marriage
.” The thought of being saddled with someone like a ball and chain when they didn't love me made me queasy.

“No matter what, Ralph will do the right thing. He's not going to punish Shayla for his brother's stupidity.” Alex sounded so sure of himself that I wondered if he knew something I didn't.

Ralph straightened up and shrugged. “Alex is right. If I marry her, it will be my choice. Once a decision is made, it's sealed and you move on. That's the thing—if you belong
to the Pack, once you make a promise you keep it. You throw yourself into the work. There's no looking back, no wondering if you made the right decision. You commit to it.”

He slowly let out a long breath. “I'm going to do it. I realize, talking to you, that I can't disappoint my parents. My brother took care of that. And I can't turn my back on Shayla and the kids—they didn't ask for this. They're good kids, she's a good woman. I have more than enough to take care of her and my nephews. They'll have to move here, of course, but this will give her a fresh start.”

Surprised that he actually was going to take this on, I turned back to face the road. It was honorable, yes, but still—the level of commitment that he had for his Pack and family startled me. And it made me think . . . would I be able to do the same, if I were in his shoes?

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