Medium Well (9781101599648) (24 page)

Chapter 24

Biddy actually managed to drag herself into the office more or less on time the next morning. Of course, she did it by not sleeping at all the night before. She studied herself in the ladies' room mirror. Death warmed over would actually be an improvement over what she looked like.

She stumbled to her desk, glancing apprehensively at Danny's office door. Closed tight. He was either hiding inside or he had an appointment somewhere else. She was hoping for somewhere else.

Her message light was blinking. She pressed the button and heard Lois's modulated snarl. “Mr. Ramos asked me to tell you he's in Grey Forest today. He said you should work on things here in the office.”

Great. He couldn't even leave his own messages now. Biddy closed her eyes, wondering just how long it would be before he left for Dallas. Had he told anyone else in the office? Was she supposed to keep it a secret?

She settled in at her desk and began to open her e-mail. With any luck, she'd find something she could work on that would keep her from thinking about the carriage house and Danny “The Rat” Ramos.

As she scrolled through a list of boilerplate messages, her thoughts turned unwillingly to her sister. Maybe it was time to make her break. She needed to move on from here, too, sooner now rather than later. Working for a new boss had no appeal at all, nor did Vintage Realty without Danny to take away the boredom factor.

She hated the thought of the battle she was going to have with Araceli, particularly since she didn't seem to have much in the way of emotional reserves at the moment. On the other hand, it wasn't like she hadn't tried to do a good job at Vintage Realty.

Except, of course, she hadn't really tried at all. She'd done the job Araceli had given her, but she'd just gone through the motions, for the most part. Biddy leaned back in her chair, staring at a message from the main office without reading it. Maybe she could give herself a deadline—work for two more months and try really hard this time. See if she could make the job something she wanted to do.

She sighed. It wouldn't work. She knew it wouldn't. Whatever advantages the job might offer to somebody else, it didn't offer anything to her. And now that Danny would be gone . . . The dull ache in her chest came back in spades.

Stop it, Biddy. You had a good life before him and you'll have one now. Just work through it. The pain goes away. Eventually.

“Biddy?” Araceli's voice behind her made her jump. When had her sister become so good at sneaking up on people?

“Yes, ma'am.” She smoothed her linen skirt over her knees.

“Where's Ramos?” Araceli peered around her cubicle suspiciously, as if she had Danny concealed in one of her desk drawers.

“Grey Forest, according to Lois.” Biddy braced for an explosion. Selling houses in Grey Forest had been Araceli's specialty originally—a way of breaking into the Hill Country market. Even if the listing had come from the main office, Araceli would still be furious that they'd given it to Danny rather than to her.

Araceli narrowed her eyes. “I know that. Will he be gone all day?”

Biddy nodded, suddenly wary. “I guess so.”

She watched Araceli's expression change to something like satisfaction.
Odd.
Why would Araceli be happy that Danny was out of the office? Particularly when it involved a deal her sister had probably wanted for herself?

“Does he have anything lined up for the Steadman carriage house?”

Alarm bells sounded in Biddy's mind.
Complete demolition. Maybe a nice lightning strike.
“Not that I know of.”

“All right, I've got someone who wants to see it. Today. Since Ramos isn't available, I'll show it myself. The key isn't on the board. Do you have it?” Araceli narrowed her eyes, daring her to say anything.

“Who wants to see it?” Biddy stammered.

“Clark Henderson.” Araceli's smile looked like a cat that had just consumed a very large parakeet.

Biddy felt a prickle of unease at the back of her neck. “Did he ask for Danny?”

Araceli shrugged, gazing over her head at Danny's closed door. “He's not here, is he? Besides, he hasn't had any luck selling the place. Maybe it's time someone else gave it a try.” Her jaw tightened as she folded her arms across her chest. “Give me the key, Biddy.”

“Araceli, you've never been inside the carriage house. How can you show it? You should wait until Danny gets back and let him handle it.” Biddy knew she sounded desperate, but it was the best she could do. Araceli and the demon would definitely not be a great combination.

Her sister gave her a particularly ferocious smile. “I don't need to wait for anybody. I've been in this business for a decade—a lot longer than Pretty Boy Ramos. He's off selling my properties in Grey Forest, so I'll return the favor with his carriage house. Trust me, Biddy, I know how to sell a historic house.”

“But you haven't even seen it.” Biddy took a deep breath. Whining was probably not the best way to head her off.

“So what? I'll look at the pictures before I go over there. I've worked with worse, believe me.” Her smile tightened. “I know what I'm doing.”

No, you don't! Not with this one!
Biddy's shoulders ached with tension. She closed her eyes for a moment, steeling herself.
Go on, you know you have to do it.
“I'll go with you.”

Araceli's smile curdled. “Why? So you can spy for Ramos?”

Biddy gritted her teeth. “So I can help you. You're my sister. I can't let you go there alone.”

“You ‘can't'? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Araceli snapped. “I can find the place without you.”

“I'll go along with you to open up the building and answer any questions you can't. And I'll help you if I can. Believe me, by now I'm an expert.” Her nails bit into her palms.

Her sister's eyes narrowed. “An expert on what?”

Murder. Demons. Haunted houses. Mediums. The mind reels.
“The carriage house.” Biddy swallowed. “I'll help you sell the carriage house.”

And I'll try to keep us both from running into an inconvenient demon or two while we do it.

***

Danny had managed to tamp down the dull ache in his chest that represented Biddy, for the moment at least. He still hadn't figured out exactly how he was going to burn down the carriage house, but he was working on it. Maybe there could be an unfortunate grilling accident. He could pick up a cheap grill and some charcoal and lighter fluid in Helotes. Of course, he'd need to come up with a reason for grilling inside the building or an explanation for how the fire had managed to spread from outside to inside. He rubbed his eyes.

Hell, just get a blowtorch and get busy!

It didn't really matter what he did. He'd go down regardless. That he wouldn't take Biddy down with him was one of the few things that made him feel . . . less bad. At this point, nothing would make him feel good.

Under other circumstances, he might have really enjoyed Grey Forest. In fact, Grey Forest was great—deep shade beneath centuries-old trees, gracious stone houses, close enough to the Hill Country but also close to San Antonio. And then there was the whole “artists' colony” thing that still made the buyers' eyes light up. Danny knew he could sell houses here with one hand tied behind his back if he had a chance. Unfortunately, once he'd destroyed the carriage house, it seemed unlikely that he would.

Also, unfortunately, the buyers he was supposed to tour through the early-twentieth-century Craftsman house were fifteen minutes late, and he had a feeling they were lost somewhere in Helotes.

That was when he pulled out his cell and discovered he was in a dead zone.

Terrific.
He could drive to Helotes or to Boerne where he'd be sure to get a signal, but then he might miss the clients if they showed up.

He closed his eyes and sighed. Today wasn't going to be a winner. But why should today be any different from the rest of his life?

***

Biddy hit redial. She'd already tried Danny three times without any luck, but she kept hoping he'd pick up this time. She'd left him a couple of messages—no point in leaving any more. He must be avoiding her. And he might not be willing to help even if she reached him. Given what he'd said last night, he probably wouldn't do anything. But she still had to try.

She didn't know exactly when Araceli planned on going to the carriage house, but it sounded like sooner rather than later. The intercom buzzer on her phone made her jerk to attention and pick up. “Yes?”

“Ms. Gunter says the appointment at the Steadman house is set for two,” Lois said.

Wonderful.
Araceli wasn't even talking to her directly anymore.

“Tell Ms. Gunter I'll meet her there.”

“Yes, Ms. Gunter.” Lois disconnected before either of them could get totally confused.

Biddy lowered her head into her hands. Demons at two o'clock.
Danny, where are you? Why won't you even answer me?
She gave herself a couple of minutes to wallow in self-pity, pushing fear to the back of her mind, then grabbed her phone again.

Deirdre picked up on the second ring. “Hi, Biddy, how are you?”

“I've got a problem, Deirdre.” She managed to keep her voice low. If anyone in the office heard what she was saying, they might send for a psychiatrist. “What can I do to repel the demon?”

The silence on the other end of the phone was deafening. “Where are you?” Deirdre demanded.

“In the office. But Araceli's going to take a client to the carriage house at two, and I'm going to go with her to try to keep the demon away from us. What can I do?”

“Danny's not there?”

“Danny's in Grey Forest, and I can't raise him.” Not to mention that he probably didn't care whether she went to the carriage house or not since he'd decided the demon wasn't his problem. “What can I do, Deirdre?” She tried to keep the note of panic out of her voice, but she knew it was still there.

Deirdre sounded remarkably matter-of-fact. “Get hold of some silver, or chalcedony, or obsidian. Iron or steel. Iron can be used to bind them. Salt is good, but not practical for this, I'd say. Strong – smelling herbs may work—maybe you could try lavender if you've got some sachets lying around.”

Biddy considered Araceli's probable reaction if she showed up with a lavender bouquet. On the other hand, it would be better than Araceli's probable reaction to encountering a demon.

“Maybe I can find some iron and silver and lavender. They don't cancel each other out, do they?”

Deirdre sighed. “I hate to say it, sweetheart, but they may not work at all. The problem is that different demons require different defenses and we have no idea what type of demon we're dealing with here. I don't suppose you can talk her out of going?”

“I've already tried. She thinks she's putting something over on Danny.”

“Yes, I can see the attraction.” Deirdre's voice is dry. “And where's Danny again?”

“Grey Forest. I've been calling his cell, but he doesn't answer. He may not want to answer calls from me. I'll keep trying.”

Deirdre sighed. “You had a fight? About the carriage house?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Biddy bit her lip. “Sort of.”

“Then I'll keep trying his number. He'll answer my calls if he knows what's good for him. You go collect something silver, something iron or steel, and the biggest bunch of lavender you can find. If you could get your sister to wear some of it, you'd be better off.”

She tried to envision Araceli with a sprig of lavender clipped to her chartreuse suit. Not likely. “Maybe I can slip some iron into her purse. That's probably the best I can do. What kind of thing is the demon likely to do?”

“With any luck, nothing. It may stay wherever it's been imprisoned.”

“But if it's freed for some reason?”

There was another pause. She pictured Deirdre flipping through some kind of supernatural reference book under “Demons, Avoiding.” “It may not manifest in physical form. More likely you'll sense it through foul smells, extremes of temperature, maybe sounds.”

Biddy licked her suddenly dry lips. “And if it manifests?”

The pause was even longer. When she replied, Deirdre's voice was somber. “They're shape – shifters, Biddy. They can look like anyone, or anything. They can also possess people, assuming the person is someone they can manipulate—that may be how the demon got Palmer in the first place, by manipulating his greed. Don't expect brimstone and pitchforks. They're too smart for that.”

She massaged her suddenly tight shoulders. “Wonderful.”

“Take care of yourself, Biddy.” Deirdre's voice was crisp again. “Keep in touch with me. I mean that literally—call me every fifteen minutes or so.”

“Yes, ma'am.” She felt a sudden surge of relief. At least she had some backup, even if it wasn't Danny. Then again, she wondered what Deirdre could do over the phone. With their luck they'd get a techno-savvy demon who fried cell phones at fifty paces.

***

By one thirty, Danny was tired of Grey Forest. Not the place, of course. The place still presented some great opportunities for sales. He'd even like to have a house here himself. Assuming he was able to live somewhere other than an eight-by-ten cell for the next twenty or thirty years.

But the buyers kept getting lost, and he kept having to find them. His cell phone coverage was so spotty he was tempted to turn the damn thing off and just go by instinct. He'd told the last bunch of clients to meet him in Helotes, and then he'd led them down the road to the house they were going to look at. This strategy predictably led to lots of comments on how far away the house was from civilization, which he'd had to turn into comments on how secluded and quiet the house was, along with descriptions of its historic past (mostly true) and its outstanding architectural features (sort of true) and its wonderful ambiance (entirely true, at least from his point of view).