A Tiger's Tale (A Call of the Wilde Mystery) (22 page)

Her gaze was fixed on a television set high on the wall, but she didn’t seem to really be watching.

“Mrs. Ligner?” I said her name quietly as I stepped into the room.

She blinked and turned her head slowly toward me.

“Do you remember me? My name is Grace Wilde.”

“We’ve met?” she asked, a crease forming between her eyebrows.

“Once, a few days ago.”

“You’re the woman who came to the house looking for Brooke.”

“That’s right.”

She moved to sit up straighter then stopped and eased back. She squeezed her eyes shut. It looked like she was going to lose what little she’d eaten.

After a few moments, she reached out and lifted the little paper cup that sat next to her plate. With trembling fingers, she brought it to her lips and took a tiny sip.

“My head,” she said. “I thought the nurse was bringing me something. I’m just so dizzy.” She took a breath and focused on me. “Can you ask the nurse to come? I need something for my head.”

“Sure. But first I wanted to ask you about Brooke.”

“Did you find her?”

“Not yet.”

“Probably with her boyfriend.”

“Stefan?”

She nodded and I was surprised to see a small smile play on her lips.

“She sneaks out to see him all the time. Brooke thinks I don’t know, but I do. I remember what it was like to be young and in love.”

Her face crumpled suddenly and she started crying. Like always, I was out of my element. I wanted to pat her on the shoulder but she looked too frail to touch.

“Bob,” she said, her voice catching. “They told me Bob’s dead.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know how any of this happened. Everything is so fuzzy. I can’t—I don’t remember.”

“You were unconscious.”

“But . . .” She trailed off, looking utterly confused.

“You took a dose of pain medication along with sleeping pills.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I took the pills my doctor gave me. That’s it. They’re for depression.”

“Antidepressants don’t knock you out.”

She shook her head again and winced. “My head. Why won’t anyone bring me something for my head?” Her voice rose with every word until she was shouting.

A nurse hurried in.

“Mrs. Ligner—” the nurse started in a soothing voice, but Anne Ligner was not in a soothable mood. She grabbed the nurse’s arm.

“My head! I need—” Her eyes had widened as she looked at the nurse. “It hurts.”

“I understand, ma’am. But you know we can’t give you any more. You’re in withdrawal.”

“No! I’m not! I’m telling you! Why won’t you help me?”

A second nurse rushed into the room. I stepped out of the way, and made a quick exit just as the tray of food clattered to the floor.

My phone jolted me out of sleep at 2:00 a.m.

“Grace?” The female voice was barely audible over the loud music blaring in the background.

“Yes?”

“It’s Caitlyn. Look, I know it’s late, but if you still want to talk to Stefan, I just saw him.”

“Um . . .” It took a moment for her words to penetrate my still-slumbering brain. “Okay, where are you?”

“At a party. On the west side.” She named an intersection I was fairly sure I could find.

“I’m on my way.”

I started to hang up but Caitlyn said, “Wait. You have to wear a costume.”

“What?”

“A costume,” she repeated. “Otherwise, they won’t let you in.”

Crap.

I hung up, shoved my sheets aside, and rolled out of bed. Still half asleep, I stumbled over Moss, who grunted out a rebuke.

Tail!

“Sorry.”

Okay?

Yeah, I’m fine. Go back to sleep.

I shuffled to my sister’s room—the door was open. By the light of the nearly full moon, I could see her bed was still made and unoccupied.

I flipped on the light and squinted in the sudden brightness.

Blinking, I made my way into my sister’s huge, walk-in closet, stopping in front of a section she reserved for costumes. Emma and I are not the same size—she’s tall and lithe where I’m short and curvy—but I’d make it work.

Hopefully.

Bleary eyed, I pawed through the costumes looking for something simple.

My hands brushed over a half a dozen corsets, elaborate dresses, and several wigs.

Two things became obvious fairly quickly.

First, simple was not going be an option and second, if I wanted the top to fit, I was going to have to find something stretchy.

“Spandex,” I muttered as I flipped through the costumes. “I need spandex or—aha!”

I spotted a sleeveless white leotard with a fluffy, pink ball attached to the back and a set of bunny ears dangling from a clothes hanger.

Bingo.

I pulled off my sleep shirt and started to maneuver into the bunny costume when I realized I was still wearing a pair of cutoff sweatpants.

“Wake up, Grace,” I told myself.

If I didn’t get moving, I’d miss my chance to talk to Stefan.

With a growl of frustration, I peeled off the leotard and kicked out of the sweats. Snatching the leotard off the floor, I yanked it on as quickly as possible.

I turned to reach for the bunny ears and noticed something else clipped to the hanger—a pair of pink satin opera gloves. Seeing them reminded me of how cold it had been the night before. I pulled on the gloves and started searching through the costumes for a warm, bunny-appropriate accessory. Mere seconds into the hunt I gave up and grabbed my sister’s red, down-filled jacket.

I’d made it two steps out of the closet when I realized my feet were bare.

“This thing is a black hole,” I declared to the empty room as I did an about-face and marched back into the closet.

Glancing over my sister’s multitude of shoes I spotted a pair of suede over-the-knee boots.

Perfect. I snagged a pair of thick socks both for warmth and to help pad the boots, which, like all Emma’s shoes, were a size too big for me. I pulled them on, vaguely noticing the bright red sole. The signature of some designer whose name eluded my sleepy brain.

Probably expensive. But it wasn’t like I was going to a pig farm. I’d only be wearing them long enough to talk to Stefan. It would be fine.

By the time I left, I was too frazzled to focus on much more than finding the address Caitlyn had given me. I’d forgotten my cell phone, so I couldn’t use my GPS.

I also couldn’t call Kai.

I could have gone home and gotten it, but, in all honesty, I didn’t want to involve him any more than I had—and I didn’t want Stefan to slip away again.

Besides, I was relatively sure Stefan wasn’t the one who’d mugged me. There was something in the way my attacker had spoken—with such menace, such cold intent—that didn’t jibe with the kid who’d run from me in the mall. No matter what my sister said.

Of course, a little voice in my head warned that Stefan could have put someone else up to it, gotten a friend to ambush me. But why? Why would Stefan have wanted Brooke’s purse?

Only one way to find out.

• • •

I hadn’t felt the need to bring backup to a costume party but I regretted not having Moss with me when I neared the address Caitlyn had supplied.

The area was an unfortunate mix of low-rent apartments and decaying industrial buildings. The few working streetlights were dim and provided just enough light to see it was not a place I’d like to visit during the day. Weeds sprouted tall and unchecked in every crevice and corner not clogged with litter. A stained mattress sagged partly into the street, draped over what might have once been a couch.

The only indication of the party Caitlyn had described was the rows of cars lining the otherwise deserted street.

I finally spotted bright lights and a cluster of people a couple of blocks ahead and started scanning the area for a place to park. A Bluebell-sized opening was unlikely with this crowd, so I turned onto a side street. After circling the block and crossing over to another side street with no luck, I decided I’d have to make my own parking space.

Circling back to the main street, I spotted the discarded mattress and made a wide turn so that Bluebell was in position. There was just enough space between the cars for me to pull in, nose-first.

I had to gun the engine a little to get onto the mattress, and Bluebell sat at an awkward angle, but she could handle it.

“That’s why we have four-wheel drive, right?”

I gave Bluebell’s dash an affectionate pat, climbed out, and said, “Don’t worry, Bell, I’ll take you through the car wash tomorrow.”

The wind whistled, cold and cutting, down the bleak street. I hunkered down into the quilted jacket and tried to see the bright side—at least I was no longer tired. In fact, I’d become hyperaware of a couple of things. Bunny ears are not aerodynamic and heels higher than three inches should come with a warning label and a walker. I tottered along the crumbling sidewalk toward the party, trying hard not to look like a wounded gazelle to any lions stalking the night. Hopefully, anyone witnessing my parking job and promise to Bluebell would think I was crazy and give me a wide berth.

I was only a block away from the building when a hand shot out of the darkness and clamped on to my arm.

I stifled a shriek and snapped my head around. Caitlyn stood with her back to the wind, huddling in the meager shelter of the scraggly bushes.

“Jesus!”

The girl had almost gotten a taste of my newly tested aikido skills.

“Sorry!” Caitlyn said, shivering. She was sporting a bright pink, furry hoodie with purple horns over a pink miniskirt and a tube top the size of an ACE bandage.

“What are you supposed to be, aside from freezing?”

“A monster. Here”—she held out a Day-Glo orange strip of plastic—“you need a wristband to get inside.”

She snapped the band in place and we made our way toward the entrance line.

As we waited, I couldn’t help but notice several people drinking beer near the entrance as they shared a cigarette. I glanced at my underage companion.

She didn’t seem tipsy.

“Have you been drinking?”

She shook her head.

“Can’t. I’m on antibiotics.” She angled her head and pointed at her eyebrow. A silver ring looped over the far corner. “Just got this, but it started getting red. I have to take them till it heals.”

A frigid blast of wind made her turn into me. She hugged herself and goose bumps pebbled over her slim arms.

“Here.” I slid the jacket off and draped it on her shoulders.

She blinked at me, surprised. “Thanks.”

“I’ll have to find Stefan on my own if you die of hypothermia.”

“Of what?”

“Never mind.”

The line moved more quickly than I’d anticipated and we were through the door and out of the cold before I had time to regret giving away my coat.

Inside, music thrummed through the cavernous space, vibrating in my chest like a giant’s heartbeat. Strobes flashed. Laser lights swirled. I spotted a disco ball and smiled, remembering Marabelle’s golden jumpsuit.

I got a couple of odd looks as we cut a path through the throng of costumed partygoers, though I wasn’t sure why. Was a bunny costume too retro for this crowd? I shrugged it off and Caitlyn led me up a set of metal stairs to a catwalk overlooking a teeming dance floor. We stood at the balcony and my hopes waned as I took in the number of painted, masked, and otherwise disguised faces filling the space.

“There,” Caitlyn called out and pointed.

“Where?” I blinked, blinded for a moment by a burst of strobing light.

“You see the guy all in green?”

I squinted and saw who she was talking about. To say he was all in green was an understatement. Every inch of his body, including his face, was swathed in neon green spandex.

“He’s hard to miss,” I almost had to shout over the music.

“The guy next to him—in the pirate costume—that’s Stefan.”

I nodded and headed down the steps. At the bottom I paused before throwing myself on the mercy of the throng.

I noticed there was a door marked with an exit sign near Stefan. I didn’t think he would notice me in the crowd, but I didn’t want to take the chance he’d recognize me and make a break for it.

I hesitated at the edge of the dance floor, looking for something I could use as a makeshift disguise.

“Hey,” a deep voice said from beside me, “I like your costume.”

I didn’t think he was talking to me until he said, “You’re a bunny, right? Where’s your tail?”

How drunk was this guy?

I turned to give him one of my signature “back off” looks but came face-to-face with a massive, utterly bare, male chest.

I looked up . . . and up a little more, finding his square chin and finally, his eyes. The back-off-or-lose-an-appendage glare lost a little of its punch when I had to crane my neck to make eye contact. But I made a valiant effort.

The beefcake looking down at me smiled and said, “Oh, there it is.”

Was this guy stoned or something? Bewildered, I followed his gaze along the front of my body and there, three inches below my navel, was a pink bunny tail.

I closed my eyes and shook my head. In my flurry to dress, I’d managed to put the damn thing on backward.

Stellar, Grace.

“Do you want to dance?” the giant asked.

I glanced up at him. My first instinct was to tell him to get lost, but then, I was struck with an idea.

“Sure, let’s go to the other side of the dance floor. It’s quieter.”

“What?”

“Other. Side.” I motioned.

“The bar?” he asked.

Close enough. I nodded and he moved to lead me through the crowd by grabbing my wrist with a polar-bear-sized hand.

Honest to God, he could have played tennis with those things.

I let Goliath part the seas for me, peeking around him a couple of times to make sure the green bean and the pirate hadn’t moved.

Once we got close, I tried to extract myself from the giant’s grip, but his hand didn’t budge.

After being mugged, I probably should have been alarmed but I felt not the least bit threatened by Goliath.

I will hug him and squeeze him and call him George.

I tapped his beefy shoulder and he turned.

“I have to talk to my friends. You go ahead, I’ll be there in a minute.”

As I’d hoped, he released me. Not as I’d hoped, he stood there waiting. I decided to ignore Goliath and turned to zigzag back toward Stefan.

“Hey,” I shouted at Stefan as I pulled off his tricorne hat. He whirled to face me, his eyes going wide.

“We need to talk.”

“About what?”

“Your girlfriend.”

“Hey, who’s the babeasaurus rex?” the green bean asked. He started to look me up and down, caught sight of my bunny appendage, and let out a “Whoa!”

“Eyes up, buddy,” I said, still focused on Stefan.

He was staring at the same spot his buddy was. “Is that supposed to be—”

“It’s my pet tribble. I’m a Trek Bunny.”

He started to back away from me but the crowd was thick and he didn’t get far.

“Look, there’s nowhere to run. I just want to talk. Really.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Maybe. But”—I hooked my thumb over my shoulder toward Goliath—“he’s crazier and if you try to run, he’ll stop you.” I lied so smoothly, I almost believed it myself.

I could see I had him before he said, “Fine. Whatever. What do you want?”

What I really wanted was the music to stop so I could hear myself think. I knew that wasn’t going to happen so I turned to Goliath and gave him the one finger back-in-a-minute signal.

He frowned. I wanted to avoid a scene with Goliath so I placed two fingers to my lips and mimed smoking an imaginary cigarette. When he started toward me I shook my head, pointed at him, then at the bar then repeated the fingers-to-lips smoking gesture, and pointed to the exit door.

The frown eased a bit and he nodded.

I turned back to Stefan. “Outside,” I said, pointing to the door. Stefan and I wound around a few people, pushed the lever on the door, and slipped out into a dimly lit alleyway.