Midnight Sacrifice (34 page)

“Let’s get her back,” Danny said.

In the truck, she leaned back on the seat and closed her eyes.

“We’re here.” Someone tapped her on the shoulder.

She jerked awake. They were parked behind the inn. She must have dozed off. Grabbing her pack, she got out and trooped across the grass. On the back porch, her fingers fumbled with the wet laces of her hiking boots. The dog barked inside.

“Honey doesn’t usually bark much.” Jed clumped up the porch steps.

“Mandy?” Danny stopped behind her. She turned. He was pointing few feet to her left. She followed his finger. Next to the back door sat the pot of drooping pansies.

Mandy’s empty stomach cramped. She lunged for the door.

Three retirees in fly-fishing vests were in the kitchen helping themselves to juice and muffins.

“Good morning.” Mandy slowed her steps. “Is my mother around?”

“We haven’t seen her,” one fisherman said. “We’re getting a late start today, though. She could’ve been up earlier.”

Honey ran to the door to the family quarters and scratched. Mandy pushed past the dog. The living room was empty and quiet. Too quiet for a house with Bill in it. Mandy went down the hall that led to the bedrooms. She knocked lightly—“Mom?”—then opened the door. Her mother lay facedown on the braided area rug. One hand clutched her chest. The other extended toward the nightstand, where the cordless phone charged.

“Call 911,” Mandy barked over her shoulder. Jed and Danny appeared in the doorway. Jed grabbed the phone. He moved to the corner of the room and dialed.

Mandy gently rolled her mother over. “Mom.”

Her mother’s eyes fluttered. “Find,” she wheezed, “Bill.”

Danny jogged down the hall, opening doors and calling for her brother.

Mandy’s heart kicked again, pressure and panic constricting her throat. “Mom, where’s Bill?”

Her mother’s eyes drifted shut. Danny dropped onto his knees beside her. “He isn’t in the apartment.” He pressed his fingers to her mother’s neck. “She’s hanging on.”

Barely. Her skin was gray, her breaths shallow.

Jed’s boots clumped in from the kitchen. “Ambulance is on the way. Called Doug, too, but nobody can find him.”

She looked up at Jed. “Bill’s gone.”

Numbness spread through Mandy’s body; her mind overloaded as every fear she’d harbored for the past four months
came to fruition. Her mother lay dying, and Mandy had failed to protect her brother. Bill, who would never hurt anyone, was now at Nathan’s mercy.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Conor dug into a slice of blueberry pie. Across from him, Dr. Hancock sipped black coffee. Voices and utensils echoed in the tile-floored diner.

The doctor’s French-manicured fingers flipped open the file. “The objects stolen are: a box of Celtic coins; a bronze cauldron; a few chips of the bluestones from Stonehenge; a bronze shield; three small bronze figures of horses; and some jewelry, including a ring.”

“May I look at that?”

She handed him the file.

Conor sifted through a pile of photos. “What’s the value of all of this?”

She quoted him a modest figure. “That’s it?” He picked up a photo of a big metal pot and turned it over.
Belenos Cauldron, bronze, 4th Century BC, Scotland, 1987.

She stiffened. “The true worth of these pieces is in their historical significance.”

“I apologize, Dr. Hancock. I only meant that the pieces seem undervalued to me.”

She sniffed, seemingly mollified. “Frankly, I don’t know why anyone would take the risk to steal our artifacts. They’re hardly things that could easily be converted into drug money.”

Yeah. Fencing a mammoth tusk would take some work.

“If the pieces weren’t that valuable, why were you fired?”

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “The Celtic collection was actually on loan from a museum in Edinburgh. The loss isn’t so much financial as an embarrassment.”

“What would you use a cauldron for?” Conor asked.

“Cauldrons were used in daily life for cooking and such, but this was a more ornamental piece. Given the weight and complexity of design, it’s more likely the cauldron was either a gift or an offering of some sort.”

The hairs on Conor’s neck wiggled. “Offering?”

“The Celts believed all forces of nature were controlled by the gods. Offerings were necessary for all aspects of life: good crops, success in battle, health, the weather. Usually these were conducted on one of the Celtic holidays.”

“They celebrated the solstices, right?” Maybe nothing was going to happen until June. They’d have more than a month to figure out what was going on.

“There are eight major holidays. The solstices and equinoxes, plus there were four sacred days in between. The next holiday is Beltane, or May Day.”

Uh-oh. So much for being safe until June. “When is May Day?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Shit.” Conor’s phone vibrated in his pocket. Danny’s number lit the display.

“What’s up, little brother?”

“Bad shit. That’s what.”

Conor’s gut tightened as Danny brought him up to speed on his disaster of a night.

“I’m leaving now. I’ll be there in a couple of hours.” Conor ended the call.

“What happened?” Concern furrowed Dr. Hancock’s brow.

“Some people have gone missing.”

“Does it have anything to do with my stolen exhibits?”

“Maybe.”

She tossed back the rest of her coffee. “Give me twenty minutes. I’ll pack a bag.”

“Why?”

“I’m going with you.”

“No, you aren’t,” Conor said. “If I find your artifacts, they’re going to be with a killer.”

Dr. Hancock snatched her folder out of his hands. “You lied to me and broke into my office. I don’t trust you. For all I know, you could want the artifacts for your own purposes.”

“It’s too dangerous. You could get hurt. I’ll take the pictures with me and let you know if I find them.”

“Not good enough, Mr. Sullivan.” Dr. Hancock grabbed her purse. “Finding those artifacts is the only way to clear my name. I’m going, with or without you.” She left, forcing Conor to hop to it to keep up.

He followed her silver BMW to a garage under a swank condominium complex. Her penthouse was all glass and wood and gorgeous views. Either her job at the museum paid a lot more than Conor thought or the doctor came from the kind of money that was understated and very, very old. True to her word, she had an overnight bag packed in no time. She also changed her clothes to jeans, boots, and a blue sweater. Casual dress looked good on her. Her uptight do and attitude, however, remained.

Back in the garage, she cast a glance at his car. “We can take my SUV.”

“My car runs.”

“I’m sure it does, but it doesn’t look like it can handle off-road. Rural Maine isn’t Philadelphia, or Bangor, for that matter. You can do what you like. I’m taking my car.”

She had a point.

“OK,” he grumbled.

She fished in her purse. Not the skinny one she’d had earlier, but a larger, sack-like bag in brown leather. Lord, she matched them to each outfit.

At the chirp of her fob, the lights of a Porsche Cayenne blinked.
Oooh.

She climbed behind the wheel. If he weren’t so worried about his brother, he would have seriously enjoyed the sweet ride.

Conor resisted sniffing the leather seat. “Tell me about May Day.”

She slipped into lecture mode the way Conor wore a broken-in pair of running shoes. “Beltane is one of the four great fire festivals that occur quarterly during the Celtic year. On the eve of Beltane, the Celts built bonfires, called Bel-fires, to honor Belenos, to celebrate the end of winter’s cold and the beginning of spring warmth. People jumped over the fires to ensure good health or luck.”

“Belenos. Isn’t that the god of fire who’s on your stolen cauldron?”

“Yes. He was a major Celtic god. Beltane Eve was also a celebration of fertility. One of the well-known symbols associated with Beltane is the maypole. Maidens would decorate it with flowers and ribbons and dance around it. Then couples would go off into the woods and, um, consummate a relationship in greenwood marriages.”

“Basically, it was a giant phallic symbol?” Conor glanced over.

Blushing, she changed lanes. Cute. “Another May Day tradition is the May Queen, who represents the maiden aspect of the Celtic triple goddess. The goddess is maiden, mother, and crone, or past, present, and future, all wrapped up into one. Beltane is all about sexuality, passion, joy, and new life. Rebirth, if you will.”

All things a dying man trying to save his only son would want. “So, this happens tomorrow, May first?”

“Actually, Beltane Eve is what is really celebrated. The festivities are usually conducted on the night of April thirtieth.”

Conor’s heart skipped. “That’s tonight.”

The ambulance pulled away. Mandy hugged Mrs. Stone. “Thank you for going with her.”

“You find Bill. I’ll take care of your mother. It’s what she would want.” The woman got into a battered sedan and followed the flashing lights down the street.

Mandy ran for the house. A few guests were milling around the foyer and parlor. She passed them without slowing. Danny followed her into the kitchen. She grabbed her knapsack from the night before and dumped it out. Jed was spreading a map on the kitchen island. Had they communicated telepathically?

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Mandy didn’t look up. She pulled another pack from the closet and started stuffing water bottles and trail mix into both. “We have to get moving.”

“What about the police?” Getting up to speed, Danny dumped his own pack and started refilling it.

“Can’t find Doug,” Jed said. “State police are on the way.”

Danny had a floodlight moment. “Maybe Lang’s the one who’s been helping Nathan.”

“That’s my guess.” Mandy tossed the emergency tent and sleeping bags aside in favor of a small rolled blanket and extra ammunition.

“We need to be gone before the police get here or we’ll be tied up for hours.” Mandy shoved a straggling piece of hair behind her ear. Wrinkled, damp, and dirty from the night in the woods, she looked a little crazy. He probably did, too.

“But won’t they be able to coordinate a better search?”

Jed added a ziplock bag of dog kibble and a plastic bowl to his pack. “Search and rescue is already gathering at the river trailhead. They’ll work from there toward the lake because that’s the hikers’ last known location.”

“If there’s anything to find on that trail, they’ll find it. No point in our repeating efforts.” Mandy tossed her pack by the door. “I’m grabbing fresh socks. Then we’re out of here.”

Danny followed suit. “Where are we going?”

Jed tapped a blue splotch on his map. “You found the camera near Lake Walker. We’ll start there. But first we’ll drop a radio at the search and rescue base in case we find something.”

“Or they do.” Mandy stuck her head through the doorway to the dining room. “Hello? Is anyone out there?” The three fishermen appeared.

“When the police get here, would you show them these?” Mandy circled the Lake’s location on the map. She took the silver camera out of her pocket and laid it on the map.

They all nodded. “Sure.”

“Thank you.” Mandy turned back.

“You’ve been fighting me all week about Nathan,” Danny said. “Why are you so sure it’s him now?”

She whirled and raced into the apartment. She returned with a rifle slung over her shoulder, pair of socks in one hand, and three envelopes in the other. The ferocity in her eyes alarmed Danny. “Go ahead. Take a look. I’ve been lying all along. You can hate me, but don’t get in my way.”

Danny slid papers out of the envelopes.

Holy shit. Pictures of Bill with threats scrawled across them—and a photo of Mandy and Nathan locked in a passionate kiss.

“When did you get these?” Betrayal sliced through him like the sharpest of blades. Not much pain yet, but the knowledge that when it came, it would be devastating.

Jed gaped. In his eyes Danny saw his own shock and betrayal reflected back at him.

Her voice went monotone. “One came the day after Nathan disappeared. The other note came the day you arrived. I got the third after you moved into the inn.”