She found the little case with her contact lenses just where he'd said they were, in plain sight. When one had sight, she added silently. Frowning, she left them there.

  She was in the shower when she heard Matt's voice.

  "Princess? You okay? Do you need anything?"

  "No," she answered. "I'm fine."

  "I'll be in Mason's study going over some notes for a bit. Your phone's on the sink. Call if you need me."

  She sighed. "I will."

  He yanked back the shower curtain and turned her to face him, uncaring that his hands were in the flow of the water. "Tell me," he said, tilting her face upward. "How do you really feel about me going with him?"

  She stared upward. "How do you feel?"

  "Like we need to talk. Are you finished?"

  "Just about."

  "Then I'll wait." He rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and took the soap from her, scrubbing down her back before rinsing her off. Opening a big fluffy towel, he held it out and began rubbing her down. Then he picked her up and took her into the bedroom. Standing her in front of him, he studied her. "How do I feel? Like an absolute traitor."

  Meg put a hand to his cheek. "Why?"

  "Because I'm here to protect you. I'm a doctor, not an investigator. I don't need to be doing this."

  "A doctor," she said softly, leaning forward to kiss him on the mouth, "with a wonderful gift for detail. If there is anyone in the world I trust to fight for me, it's you."

  He pulled her into his embrace, holding her tightly. "I don't deserve you," he whispered, nuzzling her neck.

  When she leaned back, she whispered softly, "Matt, I want you to go. Just don't stay gone long."

  He frowned. "You're sure?"

  "I'm sure."

  His hand slid down her back to cup her bottom. "Need any help getting dressed?"

  She grinned. "Well," she said, drawing out the word.

  That's all it took. A few seconds later, she was on the bed, held firmly in his arms and looking up into his eyes. Those eyes smoldered and burned as they locked with hers. He kissed her forehead, then her cheeks, and moved to take her mouth just before wrapping his arms around her tightly and holding her down on the bed, rendering her unable to move.

  "Ah, my adorable girl. Remember, you asked for this."

  Meg fell asleep in his arms just before he left to go downstairs. It was probably a good thing. She'd tossed and turned throughout the night, calming only as he'd tightened his hold around her and whispered in her ear.

  "Rest, princess," he said softly now as he listened to her deep breathing. "I love you." Tip-toeing from the room, he noticed her glasses, and moved them to the vanity in the bedroom next to the little case that held her contacts. Surely, she'd find them there.

  Mason, Stacy, Nicole, and Scott were all downstairs eating breakfast when he made it to the ground floor.

  "Where's Meg?" Stacy asked.

  "She's sound asleep. She had a fitful night so I stayed with her for a bit. But she hasn't had anything but a cup of coffee this morning, so she'll need to eat when she wakes up."

  Stacy handed him a plate of egg omelet, with cheese and bacon bits, and a piece of thick, toasted bread on the side. "Homemade," she said, grinning.

  "Meg wants to learn from you," he offered. "She's an excellent cook, but she says you should run a culinary school."

  Stacy laughed. "I work at it. I'll feed her as soon as she wakes."

  "I appreciate that. I'd like her to sleep as long as she can. Scott, what are you up to today?"

  "I'm running up to the office to see what's happening there. I need to get back to work next week, even if Nicole and Meg can't."

  Nikki frowned at him. "Okay," she said, "but I don't like it."

  Mason was finishing his plate and handed it to his wife. "Thanks, sweetheart. Our little lady called this morning, so I'm taking Matt with me to her house. I'll call when we're finished.

  Stacy tilted her chin up to receive his kiss. "Okay. Love you. Hope your day is productive. Don't worry about us. We're armed."

  The men had barely left, when Stacy put her hand to her lips. "Oh, Nikki! I forgot. We need to go to the store this morning. I don't have the ingredients I need for supper."

  "We could make a quick run," Nikki offered. "Meg will probably still be asleep when we get back."

  Stacy closed the fridge and turned back to stare at her uncertainly. "You sure? I don't know what else we could do. But I don't think Matt would be happy if we left Meg here alone."

  Nikki made a face. "Matt hovers. Meg always says so, and sometimes it irritates the daylights out of her. I'm glad she married him and not me. Although, there are times when I wish Scott would be a little more—" She stopped, shaking her head. "Sorry. I didn't mean to say that. Let's go."

  Stacy grabbed her coat, glancing back up the stairs with a frown as she put it on. "I hope she'll be all right," she murmured under her breath.

  "She'll be fine," Nikki said in an encouraging tone. "And we'll be right back. Do you have your list?"

  There was a slow series of thumps, sounding as if someone was on the stairs. Meg stirred in her sleep. Was Matt back already? They didn't sound much like his footsteps, but she was too sleepy to care. Rolling over, she settled back down as she heard the door open.

  It had to be Matt. No one else would come up here. She snuggled down under the covers until they almost covered her nose.

  It happened so suddenly, she almost didn't realize it. A large weight landed on top of her. She struggled to breathe but only barely succeeded. Her arm was wrestled out from under the covers, and a pinprick was felt at the inside of her elbow.

  Meg screamed as a hand clapped over her mouth, silencing her. But after just a moment, things began to feel warm and mellow. She was relaxing.

  No! she shouted inwardly to herself. Don't relax. It's important to stay awake! You have to know where they're taking you!

  But only a moment later, she felt the sheet and blanket pulled away from her naked body. The sheet was wrapped back around her, and in the next moment, she was thrown over a man's shoulder, a hard, muscled shoulder that was lined with bone. She couldn't see who it was, only the shadows of the man who took her.

  He moved toward the doorway, and her last thought before he reached the hall with her was, No! I need my glasses! I can't see! I can't see!

  And then, there was no more thought.

  Chapter 15

  It had been ten o'clock when Mason backed out of the drive. "I didn't think you were going to come," he said, checking the rear-view mirror. "You two are so close."

  Matt nodded. "I'm a lucky man. Or perhaps I should say blessed. And Meg, believe it or not, needs someone to look out after her."

  "Her vision?"

  Matt stared out the window. "When I met her, she was a patient. The first thing she did when I came into the room was to take them off and drop them into her purse. I noticed how thick they were then. But when she came back the second time for her follow-up appointment, she apparently took them off in the lobby. I had just come out of a patient exam room, and I saw her stumble as she came into the hallway behind the nurse. Ornery little thing. When I went into her room, I looked at her and demanded to know where they were." He chuckled. "I didn't think she was going to tell me, so I ordered her out into the hallway and had her stand in front of the eye chart. Her vision was terrible."

  "Does she drive?"

  Matt glanced at him. "She does have a license, but most of the time, I drive her where she wants to go. The first thing I did when we began seeing each other was to buy her some contacts."

  "That was nice of you."

  There was a long pause. "I take care of what's mine."

  Mason grinned. "Never heard it put quite like that," he said, raising a brow.

  "Tell me about this little lady we're going to see."

  Mason swerved to miss a squirrel that darted out in front of him. "I'll tell you what I know. She's eighty-three. A recluse. She watches what goes on in the road and calls the patrol every once in a while, to talk. It's usually around one or two in the morning because she can't sleep. But we've found her information to be extremely reliable in the past. Name's Mrs.…" He pulled a notebook out of his pocket and flipped open the front. "Evelyn Wiersbe. She's always inviting the telecoms over for cookies because they're nice to her when she calls. Or brownies, or whatever else she's making at the time. I've even spoken with her a time or two when I worked midnights."

  Matt nodded. They had turned down Country Club Lane and were headed northeast. He glanced at the funeral home and then toward the house where Pierce and Heather lived.

  "Well, glory be. He wasn't kidding."

  "Who?"

  "Scott. That's the bluest lion I've ever seen."

  Matt stared at it, frowning.

  "What is it?" Mason asked.

  Matt shook his head. "I don't know. I can't quite put my finger on it. The last time Meg and I were here, it was to Chelsea's funeral, and it was yellow." He smiled at what had happened between himself and Meg on the way home, and the smile changed into a frown. A feeling of dread moved over him at the thought of her at Mason's house, knowing he was helping out with the interviews that were investigating her. As soon as he and Mason finished with the interview, he'd inform him he needed to go check on her. If Mason didn't understand, it was too bad.

  "Well, here we are, if I have the address right." Mason leaned forward, staring at the address on the front of the house and double checking it with the notebook.

  Matt looked out. "I see someone peeking through the blinds."

  They exited the car, moving toward the front door. Mason pulled out his phone and punched in a series of buttons. A moment passed, and he turned to Matt.

  "Mrs. Wiersbe?" A pause followed. "Yes, this is Lieutenant Mason Wallace, from the Highway Patrol." He looked down at his watch. "Are we? All right. We can wait—"

  Matt heard a crackly little voice coming through the phone, and Mason laughed. "Okay. We'll be right in, then."

  The door opened, and a little silver head popped around it, peering from Mason to Matt.

  "Who are you?" she asked.

  Matt chuckled, and Mason answered, "This is the doctor I told you about who treated the young lady a few weeks ago who was killed."

  "Matt Hart, ma'am." Matt stuck out his hand. He was surprised at the strength with which the little woman shook it.

  "Come in, young man, quickly. Both of you, and don't dawdle. This is a dangerous road to be on nowadays." She had a cane in her left hand and tottered across the room. "Have a seat. I made some cookies for you. Coffee? Tea?"

  "Coffee, ma'am. That would be great," Mason said softly. Matt nodded his agreement.

  She appeared a moment later with a tray holding a carafe and three delicate cups and saucers, alongside a matching plate piled high with cookies, and set it down. "Used to be a waitress. I'm good with carting around trays of things. Never lost my touch." She set the tray down in front of them and poured each of them a cup of steaming hot coffee. "Now," she said, staring at Mason. "I'm sure you have questions."

  Mason took out his notebook. "Yes, ma'am. You called a few weeks ago. And again a few days ago. I understand you saw something odd going on in the neighborhood the past few weeks?"

  "Indeed, I did." She took a bite of the oatmeal-raisin cookie in her hand and chewed thoughtfully. "It was only a week or so before the girl died. The Chelsea girl. I called the patrol a few days later, after that, but I could tell they were busy. You know, you can just tell. So, I left a message, but that was all."

  Mason sat quietly. "So, what did happen?"

  "It was the afternoon after all the commotion. No, now, that's not right. It was a couple of days before. I noticed that the gargoyles were changing color."

  Matt leaned forward. "Changing?"

  "Yes. Odd, hmm? Not all of them, mind you. Just the one up toward the house. At first, it was yellow. I noticed a car going up the drive, a couple of days later, on the Saturday, right before the young woman…" She looked away.

  "What color was the car, ma'am. Do you remember?"

  "It was a sort of a dark blue, I think. My eyes aren't so good anymore, so I can't be sure, mind you."

  "Any idea what make or model it was?"

  She shook her head. "No, sorry. It was one of those little boxy-looking things. All cars look alike these days, you know. But I did see a young woman get out and go to the door. Now, back to the lion. It stayed that way for a few days and then, poof, it changed again."

  Mason paused, writing, to stare at her. "And when was that?"

  She rose to her feet and disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a calendar in her free hand. "It was the Friday afternoon, almost a week after the cops came running up and down the street with the ambulance, and took the first girl in. Oh!" Her hand flew to her mouth. "That's what I meant to tell you." She looked from Mason to Matt.

  "That day—the Saturday after I saw the girl come into the house, I saw her running from the direction of the funeral home. She ran all the way up the street toward the highway. You don't look as if you believe me, Lieutenant. I swear to you, it's true. I wouldn't have even looked out the window, but I heard a woman's scream. So, I went to peek out. I never open the blinds, mind you, I'm too afraid someone might see me. But I keep an eye on what happens around here. And there she was, running, naked as a jay bird."

  Mason was scribbling rapidly, and she leaned over to see what he was writing.

  "Honest, Lieutenant. It was true. I don't judge people, you know. But when the police showed up and the ambulance, and then when I heard the news about the murdered girl, I sat myself up straight and paid attention, I did."

  "When was it you called the patrol?" Mason asked.

  "It was the night after I heard it on the news that she'd been murdered. I swear, I wished they'd had more time to talk to me. I knew then what I'd seen was important."

  Mason was staring at her thoughtfully. "I do, too, ma'am."

  "Well, and then there's all the color changes of the gargoyle."

  Matt leaned forward. "Can you tell us more about them?"

  She began munching another cookie thoughtfully and pulled her calendar back up. "As I said, the first one was yellow. It was a few days later. It disappeared one evening, and the next morning, when I looked outside, it was pink. We used to call it a hot pink."

  Mason was writing furiously. "What color is hot pink, exactly?"

  She rose and went down the hall, suddenly, and Mason stared at Matt with a glance of curiosity. Matt shook his head silently. A second later, she returned again, with a dress in her hand. "This color," she announced triumphantly. "This used to be my favorite dress."

  "And when did it change again?"

  "I don't know. The next week or so. This time, it was black. I wish I could say the exact date, but my memory isn't so good anymore. And I write things down, but when I do, I don't always remember the day they happened, you know?"

  "I see." Disappointment was showing in Mason's voice.

  "And then, it changed again after that, to gold. More coffee?"

  "No, thank you," Matt said softly. "I noticed it was blue today when we passed by."

  "Yes, but that's not all. After it was gold, it was aqua blue. And then yesterday morning, lo and behold, it was the color it is now."

  Mason nodded. "Royal blue."

  "Well," she agreed, smiling. "A lovely color, but not on a gargoyle. I wish they'd get rid of those things. They're freaky. They have a gardener over there, but he's mute. I guess he's doing it. You could talk to him, but I don't know how far you'd get." She stood to her feet. "Well, I'm supposing that's all I have to tell you, Lieutenant. It was good to see you. You too, Dr. Hart. If anything else happens, I'll call you."

  Matt grinned. "Please do, Mrs. Wiersbe. We appreciate the information, more than we can say."

  Mason put his notebook away and stuck the pen into his pocket, putting out a hand. Evelyn shook it, beaming at each of them. "Next time, I'll make you boys brownies with walnuts. They're my specialty, you know."

  "We're looking forward to it, ma'am," Mason echoed as she opened the door for them. He didn't speak again until they were in the car and had it started. As they pulled out onto the highway, he glanced at Matt. "Well, what do you think?"

  Matt frowned. "I think I need to go check on my girl and make sure she's all right. What do you think?"

  "All right. We'll stop by the house. But I have another interview this morning I think might be important. We've located Hannah's ex-husband." He shook his head. "You asked what I think." He glanced both directions before pulling out onto the road. "I think I wish the telecom, or whoever answered the phone when she called, had taken the time to listen to her."

  Matt nodded, glancing down the road where the funeral home stood. Its stately look announced its presence quite well to those on the road. "And what about the colors of the lion? Do you think there's any significance?"

  Wallace shook his head. "I agree with Scott. Sounds like the gardener doesn't have enough to do."

  The phone in his pocket rang suddenly, and he turned. "Never a dull moment." Picking it up, he punched the button. "Wallace."

  As Matt watched, Mason's face blanched.

  "What? When? Did you see anything? We'll be right there."

  "What is it?" Matt demanded.

  "Someone has taken Meg," was all Wallace said, stomping the accelerator to the floor.

  Matt didn't wait for the car to get completely stopped. He threw open the door and jumped out, running to the front door and pounding it down. Barely waiting on Stacy to open it, he ran all the way upstairs.

  The door to the bedroom was open when he approached it. Reaching inside to turn on the light, he stood there looking around in dismay.

  There were few signs of struggle. The sheet was missing from the bed, and Meg's clothes and slippers from the evening before were still there on the floor, where they'd left them. The bath was the same. Her jeans and sneakers were still there.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17