Target (14 page)

He smiled at her and there was no doubt who was the center of his life. Very thin, he was a freckled man with white skin and curly brown hair.

“There's all kinds of talk going on now. Information always leaks out and they know Baily was murdered,” Sabine said. “Isn't that right, Ed?”

He nodded.

“Ed and me are telling folks to mind their business. They don't know what they're talking about, but you know how it is. A chance for some gossip and the tongue waggers crawl out of their holes. Isn't that right, Ed?”

Ed nodded. Then he nodded seriously at Delia, who nodded back. She relied on Ed and Sabine to keep the estate up and running. She had complete faith in them and Nick felt the same way.

“We know Baily was murdered and you must be real worried about this,” Sabine said. “This is none of our business, but you know we're just the two of us and we think we could help out till this nonsense goes away. Unless you got other plans.” She turned to Nick. “Have you already arranged for someone to live in here, just so there's a warm body to wake up if Miss Delia needs anything?”

Amazingly, Delia didn't say a word.

“No,” Nick said. “We haven't done that.”

Sabine elbowed Ed. He cleared his throat, shifted his feet. “We could stay in the old servants' quarters,” he said. “Sabine, she says there's still a bell in Miss Delia's room and it rings over there. We don't think there's anything to worry about, but a person can get uptight after a murder. It's natural.”

Tears actually stood in Delia's eyes. She sniffed and straightened her back. “What a sensible idea,” she said. “Thank you. It'll be convenient for you and very convenient for me. And no one can make something out of live-in staff. It's common.”

Delia had just accepted help. Nick didn't remember an occasion when she'd done so without an unpleasant struggle. And she wasn't a woman who knew fear, so why the change?

Would she do anything rather than have the roles reversed? That could be it, Delia wasn't ready to have the adults she considered her children try to take care of her.

“Well, then,” Sabine said. She was pleased and it showed. “We'll go put our things in there. And Ed's goin' to test that bell. I got my cell phone, too, Miss Delia. So you can get us that way, too. Not that you'll need to reach us. It's just knowing you could.”

Delia waited barely long enough for Ed and Sabine to be out of earshot before grinning around and saying, “There, now, you three can stop worrying about me.”

Aurelie said, “How convenient. Did you call the Webbs and arrange that little scene?”

“That's a silly suggestion,” Delia said, but she didn't meet any eyes. “They're thoughtful people. And as Sabine said, I won't need them, but they'll be there.”

But no one would be with either Aurelie or Sarah. Nick crossed his arms. “Good. We'll all feel better. One more thing and we'll get lost. Have you thought about that letter? We need to report the theft.”

“I've thought about it,” Delia said promptly. “I want to wait until this dreadful thing with Baily's been cleared up. If we mention the letters now, Matt Boudreaux and his new friend will be all over us trying to make a connection that isn't there.”

“It might be there,” Aurelie said.

“No.” Delia shook her head. “It isn't. Later our problem can be dealt with on its own and there'll be no need for anyone to stir up a big fuss about the past.”

Nick couldn't look away from Aurelie. When she made a decision she stuck with it and she'd made one now.

“I know I shouldn't make a big deal about it,” Sarah said, “but I'm so sad Mary's letter is gone. It was all Nick had of her.”

“Whoever took it must have thought it was something important,” Nick said. “I mean, in some way other than the sentimental value.”

“You never looked inside the package?” Sarah asked Delia.

“No.” Delia shook her head. “I felt that if I did, it would be like saying Mary wouldn't be coming back. I couldn't do it.”

“Tell the police tonight,” Aurelie said. “Nick, just do it. Tell the whole thing from the beginning at The Refuge. It's the right thing and we'll all cope with the fallout. If Colin's in Pointe Judah, if he murdered Baily, possibly by mistake, and he intends to deal with all of us, we need official help.”

“What's that dog got?” Delia asked, making a grab for Hoover, who clumsily evaded her and loped away between the tropical beds. “He's chewing something.”

Nick went after the dog, his sandals crunching on what looked like little white pills the animal had dropped from a mouthful.

“Drugs,” Aurelie said. “Get him, Nick.”

He caught Hoover and pried open his mouth to find a heap of lumpy white mush inside. Hoover coughed and spat. He dropped to the floor, whining and covering his nose with his paws.

Kneeling, Nick sat back on his heels and laughed.

“What?” Aurelie asked, throwing herself down beside her animal. “What are you laughing at, you idiot?”

“Isn't it Ed who eats those really strong mints in a tin?”

Aurelie went limp and rolled her eyes. “Yes. Is that—”

“Yep, Hoover got the mints and he doesn't like 'em. He'll probably throw up.”

Aurelie punched his arm. “That's not funny.”

“Sure it is. He's not my dog.”

She bumped shoulders with him and he thought he might be having the second-best moment of his life. “I'll take him home with me till you get settled. And he'd better not upchuck in
my
car.”

“Have you two stopped being good buddies?” Sarah asked. When Nick looked up at her he saw she was close to tears. “If you have, would you answer a question for me? Or don't I matter at all?”

“Of course you do,” Nick said, getting up and pulling Aurelie with him. He looked closely at Sarah. “What is it, Sarah? Tell us.”

“Did you think Aurelie could tell me I ought to be really scared and I wouldn't notice?” She turned to Aurelie. “I am scared. I'm so scared
I
could pass out.”

“Come here, Sarah,” Delia said, hurrying toward them with her arms held out. “We're all upset and not thinking straight. Matt Boudreaux told me it was only for a moment that he thought Baily was you. And Nick and Aurelie knew it wasn't you as soon as they got a really good look at the body. Isn't that right, Nick?”

S
he had a big, careless mouth and she had hurt her sister. Aurelie left the house by the front door and cut right toward one of two groves of giant oaks that flanked the building.

All that talk about making sure Delia was safe, but there hadn't been a way to console Sarah after she learned that people who knew them both well had at first mistaken Baily's body for hers.

Sarah had kept saying, “You thought it was me. You thought I was dead. Now you think it was supposed to be me.” And she wouldn't be comforted.

Nick had suggested Aurelie should leave because she intended to empty her things out of the Hummer and into her new apartment before she went to bed. She had left the vehicle at Sarah's and the two of them had walked to the house together.

When Sarah settled down enough to go back to the guesthouse, Nick intended to check it out before leaving her there. Aurelie had offered to stay with her sister but, like all of them, Sarah insisted on exerting her own independence.

It stunk that Delia had walked right into a bad situation and made it worse, but there was never malice in her heart.

Aurelie felt a little guilty. With emotion running so high, Nick and the others had forgotten the Hummer wasn't parked outside Place Lafource, or they wouldn't have let her go out alone to the guesthouse. Which was silly when it was only a short walk away.

The sun was an old memory now. Clumps of inky foliage crowded a smoke-gray sky. Despite the problems they faced, Aurelie relaxed as she walked. Her one regret about Lafource was that they hadn't lived there as children. These grounds would make a dream playground.

Perhaps their children, Nick's, Sarah's and her own would be there one day.

A sudden sharp beat of her heart came with making a connection between herself, Nick and children. The two of them had played a very adult game together, and the wonder of it still messed with her mind.

The path wound back and forth between the trees so that by daylight it made a pleasant stroll between all the woodland shrubs that grew on either side. Where it came close to the driveway, the lights penetrated in places, but the deeper bends took her into almost absolute darkness. Aurelie looked upward again. Trees almost touched overhead in this spot. She became aware of how the low thicket came alive at night. Sounds swelled, a sibilant background, the katydid and didn't cries, and the boisterous ruckus from cicadas.

The noise grew until it grated on Aurelie.

She walked faster.

There was a lot to do before she could sleep. Humidity drained her and tonight wet heat wrapped her as if she wore plastic film.

“You shouldn't have left the mutt behind,” a muffled voice said.

Aurelie jumped madly and checked her stride. She looked over her shoulder, one way and then the other, didn't see anyone and broke into a run, her arms pumping.

Crashing came from the undergrowth, to her right. Or was it to her left?

She tried to scream but couldn't make a sound.

“Where's the stone?”

She tried again but still couldn't scream and if she did, who would hear? She had gone so deeply into the oaks, so far from the driveway.
Keep moving
.

“Tell me where it is and I'll go,” he said. And it was a man. “You'll never hear from me again.”

Aurelie ran on, every breath loud and painful. When she dared, she peered behind her, and into the dark trunks that hemmed her in, but couldn't see anyone.

“You're making this difficult. Your choice.”

Arriving at her back as if from the clamoring air, he shot an arm around her neck and held it in the iron crook of his elbow. She couldn't take another step.

“I don't like killing people,” he said.

Panting, she plucked at his arm but only succeeded in causing him to grip even tighter. Her head felt as if it would explode and every one of her muscles shook. She fought for each breath now.

Think
. She couldn't. Her mind spun, wouldn't settle. “I don't know what you're talking about.” Her voice sounded distant and husky. “Let me go. We'll forget this happened.”

“You sound like a cliché,” he said and chuckled. “This isn't hard. You people have got something that doesn't belong to you and I want it. Because it does belong to me. I'm not trying to steal anything, just get back my property.”

Aurelie twisted, slammed her heels down on his toes—and knew the huge mistake she'd made.

“Bitch,” he hissed, spewing rage in that single word. With one hand he wrestled a bag that smelled of old potatoes over her head. His hands around her neck, he gathered the bottom of the bag tight and she heard tape rip from a roll, tape he used to secure the bag.

His hands moved swiftly from her neck to force her arms behind her back. More tape bound her wrists together. Her bones pressed into one another and with each attempt to move them, they chafed on the edges of the tape.

“You're making too much noise,” he said. “Pity, that. Makes it harder to get my answers, but I'll have to shut you up.”

“I'll be quiet,” she said, blinded by brilliant spots of light sparking in eyes that saw nothing else. Sweat soaked her clothes.

He was much bigger than her but that's all she could tell.

With no warning, he spread fingers over her collarbones and pushed so hard she moaned.

Down among stickery twigs, thorns and the blunt ends of branches she went. This time the sound she made was the
whump
of her emptying lungs. Under her diaphragm, a burning ache penetrated upward. And she kept falling until she settled where she felt the brush rise all around her and a bed of stones at her back. Dozens of sharp objects stuck into her through her blouse and against her bare arms where she'd rolled up her sleeves. Her neck and legs stung. Too hot, she'd taken off her jacket and couldn't remember where she'd left it.

She screamed, opened her mouth wide and let loose a full-throated shriek. And he slammed a hand over her face so hard she heard a cracking sound from her nose and pain blasted into her eyes and cheeks.

“The Vulture,” the man said, the sound hateful. Grinding, hissing, threatening the worst. He spread his whole weight on top of her. “You know the story of the Vulture. How that stone you all took was nicknamed after the kind of bird that killed anyone who tried to get the ruby. Where is it?”

“I don't understand,” she said. “If I did, I'd tell you, wouldn't I?”

He gave his raspy chuckle again. “Would you? By the time I got into that study, the ruby was gone. Has Nick still got it, or has it passed to someone else? I don't think so. I don't think he knows how to get rid of it and he hasn't had enough time. He's got three days to give it to me, or I'll be back to finish what I'm going to start.”

He sat astride her hips and opened her blouse, tore the buttons away.

With her arms behind her, Aurelie was helpless. She swallowed bile and her face burned with shame and fear.

He pulled her bra above her breasts and twisted them in his hands.

Aurelie squirmed. Her cries gurgled in her throat.

“That hurts, hmm?” he asked. “I could make it hurt a lot more. I expect you already heard all about the Vulture Ruby from someone else.”

She didn't dare speak.

His weight shifted and he moved higher over her body. The zipper opening on his pants sounded like a rifle report in her ears.
Please don't let him rape me.

She heard him rip open a condom and struggled ineffectually. He brought the side of a hand down again, hard, on her breastbone. Again her lungs wouldn't fill.

He moved his penis over her breasts, spent time flipping the tips of her nipples back and forth. She could feel the rubber sheath. He didn't intend to leave any DNA behind.

“Are you remembering anything about the ruby now?” He filled a hand with one of her breasts and squeezed.

Aurelie tried to push herself into the ground. Blackness edged her mind.

“I'm having a good time but I've got to get my answer and move on,” he said. “Vultures start with the soft parts of a body, don't they? But you know all about that story. First the eyes.” A pointed object struck through the bag and into the skin just shy of her right eye. “They have such sharp beaks and they're so hungry.” The same needlelike attack hit her nipples.

She began to scream but he crammed a hand over her mouth again. “Don't pretend that hurts. It feels good. It's only when the vulture pulls these things off that you pass out.” He pinched a nipple and pulled hard, pulled until her body arched up from the sticks and stones. “Fuck, I mustn't kill you tonight, even if we do have fun first. But I want to kill you. And I want to see their faces when they find you. They have no stomach for mutilation.”

He was cold, completely, icily cold, and every word he spoke was meant to terrify her. She boiled and sweated and her brain felt on fire, but this man considered each move he made and took his time about it. She strained to listen, hoping she'd hear the Audi. There was nothing.

Swiftly, he undid her slacks and yanked them, with her panties, down around her hips.

Aurelie cried silently, the tears squeezing from the corners of her eyes. His fingers on her skin turned her belly liquid and crawling. She sucked fine, gritty dirt from the bag into her nose and mouth.

Where was Nick? He should have left the house with Sarah by now. The moment he saw the Hummer still parked outside the guesthouse he'd know something was wrong.

“A big black bird could feel like this.” He used his fingertips to stroke her belly. “Feel how soft it is.”

Horrified almost to madness, Aurelie cried, “Leave me alone. Please, leave me alone.”

“A vulture wouldn't feel so soft if it attacked you.” He jabbed her belly with his penis, jabbed it again. “And men can be just as dangerous.”

Aurelie screamed and once more he silenced her. He fluttered his fingers over her belly again. She thrashed, whipped her hips from side to side.

“What was stolen from me is soft. Big and smooth and worth a king's life.”

“I can't understand you.” Aurelie cried and couldn't stop. And she hated herself for being weak. People like him liked to know their victims were scared sick.

“Smooth, dark—the darkest fire ever seen in a ruby, the price of a king's life,” he said. “You know what I'm saying? The sooner you tell me what I need to know, the sooner you'll be free.”

Aurelie clamped her teeth together and stiffened her body.

“They say rubbing a stone like that causes warmth that reaches inside you.”

“Stop it.” Her gut burned. “Get away.”

Close beside her, the man groped her breasts again, and he took what felt like a bird's claw and scratched it across her belly. “They grip with their claws and they—” he spread spiked talons and drove them into her assaulted flesh “—and tear with their beaks.

“Now, you're overheated. I'll help you cool off.” With that he swept her slacks and underpants to her knees and caressed her body with humiliating intimacy.

In seconds, he wound more tape around the bag that covered her head, placed it to keep her mouth shut.

“Now listen. Tell Nick he has three days to give me what's mine. I'll let him know how to get it to me. Understand?”

She nodded her head.

“If he doesn't do as he's told, there's a price to be paid. It's been paid before. Someone he cares about will suffer and die. In case he doesn't know the story, tell him my stone, Vulture, got its name for the price paid by the ones who stole it down through the centuries. Each of them was staked out to die in the sun, but the vultures got them first. The strongest were still alive when they were already blind and still alive while their organs and guts were torn from their bellies.

“A man can inflict the same deadly wounds.”