Don't Close Your Eyes (33 page)

“I asked them not to flash the light. There’s no sense in disrupting the whole neighborhood.”

“Natalie, you act as if this kind of thing happens to you every day!”

Something has been happening to me almost every day, Natalie thought. “I have delayed reactions, Dad,” she said gently. “Half an hour from now I’ll be shaking like a leaf.” Andrew looked relieved at the promise of what he considered a normal response. “You’d better open the door for the police.”

Natalie led Blaine inside and watched the police enter. She was relieved to see Nick with Hysell following close behind. Nick looked controlled, but Ted was nearly vibrating with excitement. “A little trouble here, Dr. St. John?” Nick asked calmly.

“Shredded clothes and picture. Something that looks like blood in the hall.”

“And some real creativity in my bedroom,” Natalie said. “I didn’t touch anything except some light switches. I haven’t checked all the doors and windows to make sure they’re locked, but they usually are. The sliding glass door to the terrace was unlocked, but the intruder had put Blaine

out there and might simply have left it unlocked. I covered my hand when I touched the door handle.”

Nick looked at her approvingly. “Sounds like you know how to handle yourself in this kind of situation. Careful not to disturb evidence.”

“I watch a lot of those television police shows you don’t like.”

Nick glanced at Blaine. “Dog all right?”

“Yes. She was chained to the light pole on the terrace and muzzled. She’s scared but not seriously injured.”

“How much of a fight would she put up if a stranger broke in?”

Natalie shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve had her such a short time. She’s slightly hurt—she received a blow to her left side. I don’t think anything is broken, and I don’t believe she bit anyone.”

“Sheriff, take a look back here,” Hysell called from the direction of Natalie’s bedroom. Nick disappeared down the hall. Their voices lowered. Then Natalie heard the click of Hysell’s ever-present camera. Someone’s handiwork would be immortalized. Is that what the intruder wanted?

Natalie and her father sat silently in the living room. No damage had been done here. Blaine still trembled slightly but was gradually calming down. They could hear Meredith and Hysell going from room to room, searching, testing windows. At last they returned. “All the windows are closed and locked except for a small bathroom window. There’s some undisturbed dirt in the grooves holding the screen,” Nick said. “No one came in that way. Natalie, you said the sliding glass door was unlocked. Do you normally lock it when you leave the house?”

“Always,” Andrew said.

“Dr. St. John, who else has keys to this house?”

Andrew looked blank for a moment. “Keys? Well, Natalie of course. Then there’s a set I keep in my office at the hospital.”

“Is the office always kept locked?”

“No. During the day it’s usually open.”

“Even when you’re in surgery?”

“Yes. But there’s a secretary in an outer office. Mrs. Rosen. Ralph Harkins and I share her.”

“As a secretary?” Hysell interrupted.

Nick’s lips tightened in irritation. “Of course as a secretary,” Andrew said indignantly. “What else?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a nurse or something.”

“She isn’t a nurse.”

“Well, I just thought—”

“Does anyone else have a key?” Nick plowed on.

“Let’s see …” Andrew frowned. “Harvey Coombs.”

“Harvey Coombs!” Ted burst out. “You trust old Harvey with a key?”

Andrew shot him a paralyzing look from steel-gray eyes. “Harvey has been my friend for thirty years. He’s had some problems lately, but that wasn’t always the case.”

“I see,” Ted said loudly, then mumbled, “but I wouldn’t let him have a key to my house.”

Nick took control again. “We’ll have to talk to Mr. Coombs.”

“He didn’t break into my house,” Andrew protested.

“I’m sure he didn’t, but I want to make certain he still has the key,” Nick said. “He could have lost it or loaned it to someone.”

“He wouldn’t have loaned it.” Andrew paused. “He could have lost it, though. He’s had it for over twenty years.”

“So he lost it five or ten years ago and it just happened to fall into the hands of a killer?” Ted asked.

“A killer?” Andrew thundered. “Why do you think whoever did this was a killer?”

“Because of your connection with Eugene Farley and Natalie being your child,” Ted explained earnestly.

Andrew fixed Nick with his piercing gray gaze. “What in hell is this man talking about?”

“Hasn’t Natalie told you?”

Andrew sighed. “Sheriff, my daughter has a lifelong habit of forgetting to tell me things. Why don’t you fill me in?”

Ted looked as if he were dying to tell the tale, but mer

cifully Nick cut him off, outlining the Farley theory concisely and dispassionately. When he finished, Andrew stood and walked around the room, his head down. Finally he looked at them and said, “Well, what are you doing to protect Lily, Alison, and Natalie?”

Natalie was stunned. She had thought her father would first declare the theory absurd, then demand to know why she hadn’t told him sooner. It seemed she didn’t understand him any better than he understood her.

“I’ve only warned Mrs. Cosgrove and Mr. Peyton and Lily,” Nick said. “We don’t have the manpower to guard three people. Of course, Alison stays home most of the time. I believe a housekeeper is with her during the day.”

“Yes,” Andrew said. “In spite of her mental condition, she’s probably not as much trouble as Lily Peyton and my daughter.”

“Thank you, Dad,” Natalie said dryly.

“It’s true. You’ve always been headstrong and reckless.”

“This gets better and better.” Natalie looked at Nick. “I’ve told you I’ll be careful. I’m sure Lily will, too. Now what about the havoc in this house?”

“I’ll call our tech team, such as it is. Have you moved anything?”

“No. I do know that’s real blood in the hall, but I’m not sure if it’s animal or human. And I think the skull on the bed is real, although I can’t imagine where someone would get a real human skull.”

“Can’t be real,” Ted pronounced. “Not unless we’ve got grave robbers in Port Ariel.”

“Given everything else that’s been going on, I wouldn’t rule it out,” Natalie said wryly.

The phone rang. Andrew answered, his expression distracted. Then his face tensed. “Certainly she isn’t here. I would have called you.” He paused and looked at Nick Meredith. “It’s Viveca Cosgrove. Alison has been missing for over two hours.”

“I thought you sedated her,” Nick said.

“I did. Not heavily, though. She’s been off all medication for a year, so I thought her tolerance was low. I administered a small injection of Ativan, and she quickly fell asleep.” He shook his head. “Too quickly. She was acting. The injection no doubt calmed her but didn’t knock her out.”

Nick had spoken to Viveca and then made a quick call to headquarters, dispatching two deputies to search for Alison. “Do you think she could have broken into your house?” he asked Andrew.

“Alison? Why? I thought you were worried about her, not suspicious of her.”

“I’m both,” Nick said. “Anyone have any idea where this girl might go?”

Natalie lifted her hands. “I barely know her. Dad?”

Andrew had begun pacing again. “I didn’t really know her, either. She was shy around me. But she was in better shape when I was seeing Viveca than she is now. She was on medication—medication she desperately needed. I don’t know why in God’s name Viveca turned her over to Warren Hunt. Oh, hell, this is my fault. I should have given Alison a stronger dose of Ativan.”

“No, her mother should have been watching her more closely,” Nick said firmly. “Viveca’s lack of vigilance isn’t our problem, though. Finding Alison is. If she did this to your house, God knows what else she might do tonight. If she wasn’t here, she’s wandering around alone, drugged, and the perfect target for a killer.”

Andrew insisted Viveca should not be left alone. “Well, Oliver certainly isn’t up to babysitting her,” Natalie said. “And don’t even suggest Lily.” Andrew looked troubled. “You go, Dad. I can tell you want to.”

“I can’t leave you.”

“I’ll be fine. The technicians will be here soon to collect evidence.”

“And when they’re finished, you’ll be alone again in a house that’s already been violated tonight. We’ll both go to Viveca’s.”

“Count me out. I wouldn’t be any help. She doesn’t even like me.”

“You don’t like her. That’s why you don’t want to go.” Andrew gave, her a determined look. “But now is not the time for you to indulge your childish antagonism toward this woman. You cater to unfeeling egomaniacs like Kenny Davis. Can’t you find an ounce of compassion for a woman who’s distraught over her deeply disturbed missing daughter?”

“Don’t you think that’s a little harsh?” Natalie bristled.

“Maybe. But it’s true.”

Natalie wanted to stay angry because her father had called her childish and criticized her relationship with Kenny, but she couldn’t, because he was right. Whatever Viveca’s faults, the woman did love her daughter.

She stood. “Blaine, come along. We’re going visiting.”

Andrew shook his head. “Viveca doesn’t like dogs.”

“I’m not going without her, not after what happened to

her earlier this evening. She’s frightened.” She gave her father a hard stare. “It’s both of us or neither of us.”

He stared back for a moment, then slowly smiled. “You bend, but only so far. You’re very much like my mother.”

“Grandmother?” Natalie was shocked. “You’ve never said that before.”

“I’m enigmatic. Never say everything I think. It’s part of my charm.” He winked at her. “Get Blaine’s leash, my stubborn one, and we’ll be off.”

The evidence technicians were arriving as they left. Andrew gave them Viveca’s number and told them to lock up when they left. “And you will be sure to lock up, won’t you?” he asked.

One of the men looked at him stonily. “We’re the police, sir. Of course we’ll lock up.”

“Locking up hardly matters, Dad,” Natalie said in the car. “After all, whoever came in did it with a key.”

“A key we’ll have to locate,” Andrew answered.

As Natalie expected, Viveca had worked herself to near distraction. “Where can she be?” she kept demanding of Natalie and Andrew. “Where can my baby have gone?”

“You would have a better idea of that than we would,” Andrew said gently. “Just calm down and think.”

“I can’t think with that dog looking at me!”

“That’s absurd,” Natalie retorted. “Blaine isn’t bothering you.”

“Andrew?” Plaintively. “Does the dog have to be here?”

“Forget the dog, Viveca,” Andrew said gently. “Think about where Alison might have gone. Does she have any favorite spots?”

Viveca sat down on the piano bench, rubbing at tiny vertical lines between her brows. “She likes a few shops. That nice little bookstore called The Alcove. Lawson’s Music. Curious Things.”

“Those places are closed at this hour,” Natalie said. “Besides, I don’t think she ran off to a store.”

Viveca’s eyes blazed. “Don’t be sarcastic!”

“I didn’t mean to be sarcastic. What other places does she like?”

“Not many. There’s a little restaurant by the lake. Her father took her there the day he …” Her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t remember the name. It’s rather tacky—”

“The Lantern,” Andrew supplied. “It closed last summer.”

“Oh. I don’t know of anywhere else.” She looked around helplessly.

“How about the library?” Natalie suggested. “I think it’s still open. Did she ever go there?”

“No. She said it was cold and unfriendly.”

“Did she have any friends?” Andrew asked.

“No. Only Eugene. She got sick after he killed himself.”

In that same gentle tone, Andrew said, “Viveca, she was sick long before Eugene Farley died—”

“Don’t you think I know that! She’s been sick for nearly twenty years! Her father died in front of her and I wasn’t here! I wasn’t here!” Oh, God!”

While Viveca poured forth a torrent of misery and guilt, burying her golden head against Andrew’s chest, Natalie crept up the stairs with Blaine. They walked slowly, down the hall until they came to what Natalie knew must be Alison’s room. Inside, the dog walked around slowly, sniffing the ruffled bedspread, the collection of stuffed animals, a delicate crocheted sweater tossed over a chintz-covered chair. She reacted with nothing except casual interest.

After a few minutes, Natalie knew absolutely that Alison Cosgrove had not invaded the St. John house and terrified this dog just a few hours ago.

FRIDAY MORNING

“Haven’t seen him since yesterday afternoon,” said the teenage desk clerk of the Lakeview Motel.

“What time?” Nick asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe one.” The boy scrunched his acne spotted face in thought. “Yeah, around one ‘cause the mailman was here. Lindstrom came in to tell me the ice machine wasn’t working. Piece of crap only works half the time. Anyway, he had on a suit. I said, ‘Hey, you goin’ to a funeral?’ He said, ‘Matter of fact, I am.’ “

Jeff Lindstrom had been headed for Tamara’s funeral, Nick thought. “And you didn’t see him come back?”

“No. I already told you.”

“How late do you work?”

“Midnight.” He threw Nick a long-suffering look. “My old man died two years ago. Place ain’t doin’ too great, so in the summers my mom has me doing slave labor. Didn’t you come here looking for him before?”

“Yes, but he wasn’t around. Did you talk to him much?”

“Sort of. Mostly he asked questions.” He laughed. “Like you.”

“Asked questions about what?”

“The murders. Only exciting thing that’s happened around here for years. And he asked about a few other people I didn’t really know.”

“What people?”

“The Hunt woman’s sister. The one that has a store downtown. Don’t know her. That doctor’s daughter—somebody St. John.”

“Natalie.”

“Yeah. Don’t know her, either, but I kind of met her old man. He took out my spleen after the car wreck I was in that killed my dad. He was driving,” the boy added quickly. “And Alison somebody and that Farley guy that killed himself. Now that was something fairly exciting around here. Probably the last thing till these murders. Anyway, that kind of stuff. Once in a while he’d ask something about me, but he was only being polite. Thought I couldn’t see through him.”