Last Car to Annwn Station (5 page)

They clambered onto the bus as the driver was closing the door. Trying to catch their breath and ignoring the disgruntled looks they were receiving, they fished out their bus passes and paid.

Mae kept a watch out the window. The four figures skidded to a halt at the transit station and watched the bus pull away, red eyes glowing from under their hoods.

Both women were silent for several minutes, content to let the bus rattle along as they waited for the adrenaline rush to subside and their heart rates to return to normal.

“Well,” Jill finally said, her face flushed. “That was interesting.”

Mae turned to Jill. “They were after me.”

“And exactly how do you figure that?”

“You remember that weirdness I was telling you about? They’re part of it.”

Jill raised an eyebrow as she reached for the pull cord to request the bus to stop. “I think we’re going to need to skip the dating part and go straight to the story.”

The two women climbed off the bus, looking around cautiously at their surroundings. They made a quick dash down Colfax Avenue to Jill’s townhouse. Jill unlocked the door, and both women slipped inside. Jill locked the door, threw the deadbolt and slipped the security chain into place.

Mae gave her surroundings a quick look. Jill’s home was an ordinary two-level townhome. A moderately sized living room, complete with fireplace, greeted her on entry, a smaller dining area was set off to one side, and Mae could see the barest glimpse of a kitchen shielded by the long wall across from the fireplace. The staircase in front of the door led up to the bedrooms. Jill’s taste in decorations and furniture ran toward comfortable, with oak wood dominating the furnishings. The cushions on the two chairs and the couch were a contrasting red. The entertainment center was modest and the artwork on the walls impressionist, mostly tasteful renditions of the female form.

“Look, Jill, maybe you should give me a ride home. I’m not sure how much you really want to know, or even how much you’d believe, about what’s going on. Maybe I should leave.”

“Or maybe,” Jill said, taking off her coat and favoring Mae with a slight smile, “you can have a seat. I’ll make something hot to drink, and you can fill me in on why a pack of two-legged Tindalos hounds are chasing you.”

Mae blinked in surprise. “Actually, I think they might have been two-legged C
n Annwn.”

Jill cocked her head. “C
n Annwn?”

“It’s Welsh.”

“I don’t know much about Welsh myth. I’m more of a Lovecraft kind of girl.”

Mae stood in the doorway and gave Jill a curious look. “You’re taking all this rather well.”

Jill snorted. “For your information, I think I might have peed myself a little bit back there. And I’ve spilled caramel mocha all over my shoes.”

Mae chewed on her lower lip for a moment, and then sighed. “I shouldn’t get you involved.”

“I think it might be too late for that. Besides, I don’t think either of us wants to go back out there tonight.”

Mae hugged herself. Jill was right. Mae was scared of what might be waiting in the cold Minnesota night. She was afraid to spend tonight alone in her little walk-up apartment. Coming to a decision, Mae took off her coat and kicked off her shoes.

“Okay then. If it’s all right, I’ll crash on your couch tonight.”

Jill smiled. “I’m glad that’s settled. I’ll make us some tea, and you can tell me all about it.”

Five minutes later, the two women were settled next to each other on the couch, steaming cups in front of them on the low coffee table.

Mae decided to start at the beginning. She put her cup down and reached into her messenger bag, withdrawing the illicitly copied file of Chrysandra Arneson. She opened it up on the table and turned to Jill.

“I saw a living dead girl tonight.”

Wednesday, 25
^th
of October

Mae awoke with a start. She had been dreaming about having a tea party with a girl’s corpse. They were in a room with writing on the walls, but the words squirmed and twisted like agitated snakes, and Mae was unable to read them. There had been an underlying menace, as if something lurked in the shadows, waiting to pounce, waiting to sink its teeth into her throat.

She sat up, disoriented by her unfamiliar surroundings, shaking her head to clear it. Her mouth tasted terrible, like she had kissed a wet dog, and she was on a couch in a strange room. She took a calming breath, remembering how the previous evening had ended. She was on Jill’s couch, in Jill’s living room, dressed in one of Jill’s oversized nightshirts.

After spilling her entire story, Mae had sat holding her breath and waiting for Jill to either laugh at her or offer to pay for a cab to get the loony out of her living room. Instead, Jill had sat silent for a couple of minutes, apparently deep in thought. Then she’d stood and, declaring that they had gone through a difficult ordeal, commanded that they both get some sleep. She said they could take the matter up again over the dinner date Mae had promised her.

Mae rose slowly, careful to make as little noise as possible. She looked around for a clock. The green numbers flashing from the digital video recorder resting on the television read five twenty-six.

After using the bathroom, she moved silently into the kitchen. A quick search yielded a canister of ground coffee and filters for the coffeemaker. Mae started the machine producing the dark brew she was desperately craving and returned to the living room. She found her clothes from the night before neatly folded and stacked in a chair next to the couch. Mae decided that it would be safe enough to change back into her clothes in the living room, planning to duck into the bathroom if she heard Jill coming. By the time she finished dressing and folding the makeshift bedding, Mae was able to pour herself a cup from the not-quite-finished coffee pot.

Settling at the kitchen table, Mae checked her watch. If Jill did not make an appearance soon, she would have to find her own way back to her apartment. She expected fallout from her impromptu and ill-advised visit to the Arneson household, and the last thing Mae wanted to be was late for work.

She was trying to decide between waking Jill or leaving her a note and catching a bus back to the Uptown Transit Station, when she heard the sound of a shower running upstairs. Mae was most of the way through her second cup of coffee when Jill appeared, looking fresh, awake, and ready to face the day.

“Good morning,” Jill said as she took a travel mug from the cabinet and filled it with coffee. “Sleep well?”

Mae nodded over her cup. “Yeah, actually. I usually don’t sleep at all in strange beds, but last night was okay.” She decided not to mention the weird dream. She had piled a lot on Jill in a short time last night—there was no need to add more stress, especially since it was only a dream, nothing more.

“Good. I’ll drive you home. You shower and change, then we can get scones or something at Dunn Brothers before we head for work.” Jill gave Mae a stern look. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Mae finished her coffee and nodded in agreement. “Okay. It will give you a chance to ask any questions you might have thought of after we went to bed last night.”

The two women slipped into their coats and stepped into the unheated tuck-under garage.

Mae gave Jill’s vehicle a dubious look. “I’m reminded why you bus everywhere.”

Jill gave her a playful scowl. “Hush, you. You’ll hurt her feelings.” Jill reached out and patted the top of the rusty, red Ford Escort. “It’s okay, Maddy. Don’t listen to the mean woman, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Wait—Maddy?”

“Be nice,” Jill said as they both climbed into the cramped interior. “I’ve had Maddy since I was a freshman in college. She’s never let me down.” Jill turned the key. The engine whined, coughed and sputtered. Jill pumped the gas pedal and turned the key again. The whole car shook as the ignition finally took and the engine started. The smell of oil filled the car.

“Um…Jill?”

Jill gave her what Mae suspected was supposed to be a reassuring smile. “It’s all good. Maddy’ll stop blowing smoke before we reach your place.”

Mae checked her seatbelt as Jill backed the car out of the garage.

Jill was true to her word. The little car stopped blowing blue smoke out the tailpipe four blocks from Mae’s apartment. She smoothly wedged the car into a spot on Humboldt. “Do you think it will be okay if I leave Maddy here for the day and pick her up tonight? I don’t want to try to park downtown.”

“Yeah, it will be fine.”

“You’re sure? I wouldn’t want something to happen to her.”

“I’m sure Maddy will be perfectly safe,” Mae said, all the while thinking that no self-respecting car thief would ever touch Jill’s rusty heap.

Mae led Jill to the squat, aging brownstone she lived in. Mae struggled with the key in the security door’s lock as Jill looked at the building and its surroundings.

“I know I’ve said this before, but they obviously don’t pay you guys enough,” Jill said.

Mae gave the key a jerk and a twist. It rotated with a loud snap. She pulled the security door open, the whole time trying to work her key back out of the lock.

“I have simple needs, that’s all,” Mae replied. In truth, she had found the apartment right out of college and was still living here because she did not want to deal with the hassles of moving.

Jill followed Mae inside. “Well, I need air conditioning in the summer.”

“I’ve got a window unit,” Mae replied, starting up the steps to her third-floor apartment. “And how many rooms does that window unit really cool, hmm?”

Mae stopped at the landing to the second floor and peered down at Jill. “It keeps the living room and kitchen cool.”

“What about the bedroom?”

Mae gave Jill a wicked little smile, the urge to flirt rising up. “I open the window, turn on a fan and sleep naked.”

“Well, that will certainly make things easier.”

Mae felt a little shiver, thinking about being naked with Jill. She turned and started up the stairs. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, missy.”

Jill’s snort of laughter was the only reply.

Mae reached her door and started to push the key into the deadbolt.

The door swung open.

Mae took a step backward, bumping into Jill.

“What? Oh!” Jill said, seeing the door standing partially open. “I don’t suppose you forgot to close the door when you left last night?”

Mae shook her head. “No. I know I locked it.”

Jill took Mae’s arm. “Let’s go back downstairs and call the cops.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

Twenty minutes later Mae watched as Patrol Sergeant Mary Alice Dean of the Minneapolis Police Department frowned and looked up at the building. The sergeant turned back to her. “We’ll need you to go through and tell us if anything is missing.”

“Okay,” Mae said. She did not want to go into her apartment, even with a police escort.

“I’ll come up with you. Remember, it’s still a crime scene, so try to disturb as little as possible.”

Mae hugged herself and pulled her coat tighter against her body. “How long will you need to finish up inside?”

“We should be done soon.” The sergeant’s face took on a concerned look. “Look, Miss Malveaux, it might be a good idea for you to stay with a family member or friend, just for a night or two.”

Jill touched her arm to gain her attention. “Why don’t you stay with me for a couple of days?”

Mae exhaled a long breath. “Okay. I’ll pack a few things.”

Sergeant Dean turned back to the building. “You should have your superintendent change the locks.”

“Yeah. That’ll only take him a month.”

Sergeant Dean looked to Mae, her eyebrows raised. “
I’ll
talk to him, let him know that if they’re not changed by the time we’re ready to leave the scene, there’ll be all manner of inspectors from the city coming to visit.”

Mae smiled. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I’ll have someone call to let you know when we’re done and the key is ready.” The sergeant turned to Jill. “I’ll need your contact information.”

“Of course,” Jill said.

She looked at Mae again. “I’ll have a couple of officers drive by your place regularly for a few nights, but honestly, it isn’t likely we’ll catch whoever did this, Miss Malveaux. So, you think you’re ready to go up and see what they took?”

Mae turned to Jill. “Could you call in for me?”

“Sure. Who should I talk to?”

Mae gave Donald Leftwich’s direct phone number to Jill. “Tell him as little as you can.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Mae followed the sergeant and two uniformed officers into her apartment.

The place had been ransacked. In the living room-kitchenette combination, the cushions from the couch and chair were flung into a corner, and tables had been tipped over. The three drawers under the small kitchen counter were opened and her silverware and utensils dumped on the floor.

“They ate the lasagna,” Mae whispered, looking at the empty plate.

“I’m sorry?” Sergeant Dean asked.

“Nothing. I was just muttering to myself about the mess.”

“Have you noticed anything missing yet, ma’am?”

“No. Not yet.”

She gave the tiny bathroom a quick glance. The intruder had ransacked her medicine cabinet, but the small room was not as serious a mess as the rest of the house.

In the bedroom the chaos continued. Her bedcovers were pulled onto the floor, her dresser drawers pulled out and turned upside down. Mae blushed as she saw all her bras and panties lying on the carpet in plain view.

She checked and discovered her emergency stash of cash was gone. She looked through her small collection of modest jewelry. Everything was there, if scattered about the room. It was then that she noticed her important personal papers—her birth certificate, the official transcript from college, a couple of letters from her father, and the only photograph she owned of her mother—were on the bed, arranged neatly next to each other.

“Ma’am?”

Sergeant Dean’s voice came from the bedroom doorway. Mae turned to face her.

“They took a little money, maybe a hundred dollars.”

Dean stepped closer to her, her frown leaving deep lines on her broad, brown face. “I’ll tell you what I think, Miss Malveaux. I think this whole thing was designed to shake you up. Is there someone who would want to scare you or hurt you? Maybe an ex-boyfriend or a coworker who doesn’t like you? Anyone you can think of who would do this, anyone at all?”

Mae shook her head. She had her own suspicions, but she could not tell the detective she suspected supernatural forces were trying to stop her from digging too deeply into a case of child neglect she was not supposed to be working on anymore.

“No. No, I’m sorry. I just—I don’t know who would do this.”

Sergeant Dean sighed. “All right. Why don’t you grab some fresh clothes and go with your friend. We’ll call you when we’re done.”

Taking a small travel suitcase from her closet, Mae packed some clothes and her personal papers. Necessities from the bathroom and a few personal items went in next. Mae looked around her apartment as the officers poked through her belongings.

She found Jill waiting for her in the small lobby. Jill took her by the arm and led her past the building superintendent, who gave her an angry glare, no doubt ready to blame her for bringing trouble down on his building.

Mae was quiet on the way to Jill’s townhouse. Once inside, Mae took off her coat and shoes and dropped heavily back onto the couch she had been sleeping on only a few hours before.

“What did Donald say?” Mae whispered to Jill, who had settled on the couch next to her.

“He wants you to call him later. He sounded kind of annoyed. Do you want me to stay with you?”

Mae took a deep breath and leaned forward, her hands on her knees. “I know you need to go to work. I’ll be fine, really.”

Mae knew it was a lie as soon as the words left her lips. She would not be okay. She was in way over her head. Phantom streetcars. Zombie girls. Hounds from hell. Faerie creatures. Death. It was all getting to be too much.

And now someone had broken into her home. They had violated the place where she lived and taken away her sense of security. She knew it had something to do with the Arneson case. She
knew
it, but right now she wanted it all to go away, wanted it to stop and her life to reset to normal.

Mae felt Jill place a hand over hers and give it a little squeeze.

Mae
wanted
it to all go away but knew it would not. Whoever was behind these attacks on her would not stop. She should run, should get as far away as possible. By staying, she was not only putting herself in danger, but now the threat likely extended to Jill, who had seen the creatures chasing them last night and knew the entire story. Mae shivered.

But there was a child who had died, whose body was being used for purposes Mae could not even grasp and she feared that if this one child had met a tragic and unnecessary death, there might be others.

There had to be a reason she was drawn into this. The sudden appearance of the streetcars, the attacks, even the strange behavior of her bosses; these were all connected. She was being drawn into a conflict she did not understand and, God help her, she could not walk away.

Mae burst into tears, crying like a frightened little child awoken by a nightmare, feeling overwhelmed and alone.

Soft arms wrapped around her and pulled her close. Mae let herself be held, let the arms comfort her. Her body lost all of its strength and collapsed. She curled up into a little ball of misery on the couch, lying with her head in Jill’s lap. Jill stroked her hair. Mae looked out at Jill’s living room through her tears. Her small travel suitcase sat near the door, a solemn reminder of the strange and dangerous situation she was facing. She saw a box of tissues on the coffee table and reached for it.