Viator (The Viator Chronicles Book 1) (34 page)

She greeted the men cautiously. “Hello. Can I help you?”

The men exchanged glances. The one with the thick eyebrows said, “You are a friend of Gary Arthur?”

“Yes.”

“We would like to talk to you.”

“I’m listening.”

He smiled scornfully at her. “In private, Ms. Holley.”

She startled at his use of her name. “We can go into my studio.”

“We would prefer to go outside.”

Erin did not want to go anywhere with them, and she called out to Ed. “I have to take a couple minutes to talk to these two men. We’ll be in my studio.”

Ed walked down the stairs. “Okay, Erin.” He looked the two men over. “Everything all right?”

“Yes.” She looked at the men and was determined to maintain some control. “We will talk in my studio, and it should only take a couple minutes, right?”

They exchanged glances. Erin led them into her studio. She sat on the piano bench and motioned for them to take the chairs. One of the men sat, the other pulled the door closed and remained standing.

“What is this about?” she asked.

The man in the chair looked her up and down. “Arthur owes us. And you are going to make sure he pays.”

Erin’s heart pounded. “Why would I do anything to help you?”

The man by the door stepped toward her and raised his hand. But the other man briefly shook his head and his eyes squinted. “Because you will, and you know you will.”

She looked back and forth between the two. “What does he owe you?”

He leaned closer and grasped her chin in his hand. “A healthy shipment. He didn’t take care of things the way he should.”

Erin slowly, deliberately moved his hand away from her face, holding his gaze with her eyes. “What? What didn’t he take care of?”

“If he transports cargo, but there are delays, there can be losses. And losses lead to consequences.”

“Drugs?”

The man raised his eyebrows. “No. More family. Much more profit.”

Family?
Erin drew back with a sharp intake of air. Then the man in the chair leaned forward. “You will make sure. Tell him if he does not take care of this now, we know where you work and where you live. We know where your children are. But that would not be enough. He would still owe more.”

Erin felt dizzy.

The men opened the door and left the music shop, but Erin stayed seated on the piano bench for a moment, too stunned to do anything. She shook her head … more family, he had said. People. He’s trafficking in people. She stood up and walked out of her studio to where Ed was working. “I’m not feeling very well. I think I need some fresh air. Would you mind if I took fifteen minutes to go outside?”

“You’re white as a ghost. Are you all right?” he asked.

Erin nodded. “I just need some air.”

She pushed open the door, turned right, and almost ran down the street. Her feet hurt, but she didn’t care. She didn’t notice any of the people she passed; her mind was a blur. She couldn’t think clearly and felt smothered by all her thoughts.
People? Human trafficking? Oh no, no.

She walked to Hannah’s bakery and went inside. Hannah’s new girl beamed at her from behind the counter.

“Good afternoon, ma’am. Can I help you?”

“Is Hannah here?”

“No. She just left for Seattle and won’t be back until late.”

“Thanks,” Erin said, and she whirled around and headed down the street to the gallery. It was only a quick ten-minute walk, and when she got there she went inside and looked around. No one was up front. She glanced in the various rooms, but they were deserted. The raven painting by Daniel Frank caught her eye; she hadn’t seen it since the time she’d shown Michael. She remembered his face as he’d looked at it, how his eyes had danced with amusement as he talked about the raven myths. His sharp interest in her had been frightening at the time, and now she realized he had remembered her from their dreams. And now he was gone. Her stomach ached.

She wandered out to the garden in the back, and there she found Aleesha’s assistant with a customer. He looked up at her, and she asked him if Aleesha was there.

He frowned. “No. She went to Seattle this afternoon. I thought she went with you. But maybe it was just Hannah.”

“Thanks.”

She walked back through the gallery and to the music shop again. Sitting in her studio, she was thankful she didn’t have any lessons scheduled.
What was she going to do? Could Gary really have done those things?
The rest of the afternoon passed slowly.

Erin was putting music away and cleaning up her studio at five o’clock when she saw Gary come into the shop. He wore a finely tailored charcoal Italian suit that fit his muscular body perfectly, and his blond hair was trimmed and neat. As he entered the store, he loosened his tie and took it off, said hi to Ed, and went straight into Erin’s studio. He looked her up and down.

“A little casual today?” he said.

She frowned slightly. “I wanted to be comfortable.”

He grinned and his blue eyes sparkled. “I can help you get comfortable.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her lightly. “Miss me?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I did.”

He pulled back from her a little, looking into her face more carefully. “What’s wrong?”

“We need to talk—but not here—let’s go.”

She grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the shop with her. His Porsche was parked next to the curb only two cars away, so they climbed in.

“Where to?” His face was serious, concerned.

“Do you want a drink?” she asked. Now that he was with her, she wanted to postpone the discussion as long as she could.

“Yeah.” He studied her from the corners of his eyes as he pulled the car onto the street. “Let’s go to The Wharf.”

They drove the short distance to the restaurant. The sky was clear and still bright, but it was cold in the convertible. Erin had forgotten her jacket in the store and hugged herself to keep warm. Gary parked and got out, coming around to open her door. They walked into the restaurant bar where they sat in a booth in the corner. Erin ordered a glass of merlot, and Gary ordered scotch on the rocks. It was still early—the bar nearly empty.

“What is it?” he asked with a frown.

Erin took a sip of wine. “I had a visit from some friends of yours today.”

His face froze—his eyes like ice.

“The men we saw at Deception Pass came into the store today.” She glanced up at him—his eyes were intense, watching her. “They wanted to speak to me. I made them go into my studio.” She frowned and tears came to her eyes.

Gary’s eyes softened. He reached one hand toward her face and caressed her cheek. “Oh, baby.”

“Don’t.” She continued in a quiet voice, “They told me that I have to make sure you fulfill your obligation. That you owe them. They know where to find me and the children, but—you would still owe them more.”

He lifted his eyebrows and gave a short laugh. She stared at him.

“Erin, why did you even listen to them? You should have called the police. They’re a couple of thugs.”

“They told me the merchandise that was lost was more profitable than drugs.” Erin’s heart was beating fast.

Gary narrowed his eyes. “What are you thinking?”

Her voice was a whisper. “Were they people? Were you trafficking people?”

He took a gulp of his drink and his nostrils flared. “For Christ’s sake, is that what you think of me?”

“I don’t want to, but what is going on?”

Gary stared at the far wall, his jaw clenched. He looked back at her and threw back his scotch. He waved to the bartender for another.

“Nothing’s going on. They’re trying to scare you and get to me. They’re full of empty threats.”

Erin frowned as she finished her wine. The waiter brought them both fresh drinks, and Gary told him to bring him another as he gulped half of his fresh one.

“Does this have anything to do with Henry getting shot?”

“Henry has his own demons.”

“What do you mean by that?” Her dream came to mind with Henry cowering from the horrible shadows. Henry with a knife at her throat. And Gary there too.

He hesitated before answering. “Henry’s made enemies—the same as anyone. Look, I’ll take care of those thugs. You don’t need to worry about them.”

“Don’t patronize me. There’s something going on, and you don’t want to talk about it. Are you involved in what they said? I’ve heard your business is … I’ve heard there are issues.”

“What did you hear? I didn’t think William ever talked to you about my business.”

“William? Was he involved?” Erin felt dizzy with shock.

Gary shook his head. “Shit, Erin, what have you heard?”

She remembered what Michael had told her in her dream. “That your business is corrupt,” she whispered. “Was William involved in your business?”

“No, he had nothing to do with it. I was selling him parts for the nav systems they built. Does that sound like a corrupt business?” His voice grew louder.

“What was the shipment you lost? Were they people? What happened to them? Did William know you were doing that?”

Gary’s eyes widened. The waiter brought him another drink, and he picked it up and stared at the wall. When he turned back to her his voice was icy calm.

“You need to stop asking questions.”

Erin felt a wave of fear and anger surge through her. She sat back, breathing hard. “I need to know the truth.” Her heart was beating so hard she could almost hear it.

Gary gulped the rest of his drink, stood and grabbed her arm, pulling her up and toward the door. He tossed a few twenties to the bartender as he rushed out, still holding Erin’s arm until they got to the car.

“What are you doing?” she yelled.

“Shut up. Listen to me.” He stopped at his car, his breathing ragged. “I can’t believe this. First Grekov with his damn lost cargo, then Lehman and his threats, then Bagley gets shot. And I thought with William gone I had no worries.” He grabbed her arms and looked into her eyes. “And there you were—William’s goddam widow. What did he tell you? Fuck!” He paced away, then came back and kicked the tire of his car. He reached for her and grabbed her again. “You seemed so innocent. And then you showed up in my dreams. You’re one of those viators.”

She gasped.

He stared at her, his jaw clenched, pulling the keys from his pocket and unlocking the car. He opened the door and pushed her into the passenger seat, then climbed in and backed the car out. He peeled out of the parking lot and onto the road.

Erin found her voice. “You know about the dreams?”

He looked at her with disbelief. “Are you kidding?”

“It’s true then. What else? Do those shadows help you get what you want? Were you and Bagley planning to kill a viator when he almost slit my throat? Is that how you pay them for helping you?”

Gary stared straight ahead, and Erin could see that every muscle in his body was clenched as he sped down the main street heading to the highway. Fear and anger pounded through her. The terrifying words the mortifer had spoken the night before haunted her—was Gary responsible for William’s death?

A bitter wind blew through the convertible, and Erin shivered in her T-shirt. Gary drove furiously, passing every car. They turned onto the highway to Mt. Vernon.

“What did you do?” Erin shouted.

Gary shook his head. “Shit. Henry warned me about you. But I had to know what William told you.” He looked over at her and his voice grew louder. “He kept asking questions. He couldn’t leave well enough alone.”

“So you arranged his death?” Tears ran down Erin’s face. “With mortifers’ help? William was your friend.”

He threw her a glance. “I did what I had to do.”

Erin hit him across the face. The car swerved into the other lane. Another car honked, and Gary leaned over and grabbed her arm. She pulled free, and the car careened into the other lane again. The oncoming car honked and hit their rear fender. Erin lurched to the side as the car spun around and the other car flew off the road. Her head flew forward as another car rammed them from behind, shoving them off the road and over the embankment.

The car bounced down the hill, each bump jolting Erin, forcing her to cry out. The rear of the car hit a ridge, bouncing it up and over, flipping them upside down, metal crunching against metal, and they finally stopped. The roll bar held, leaving a little room, but the car was crushed. Erin heard a loud rushing noise in her ears and struggled to get out. She felt desperate and panicked, claustrophobic and hurt all over, and she could taste blood in her mouth, felt it seeping into her eyes. A deep blackness covered her, soft as a blanket, muffling her pain. As if from far away, she heard Gary moan.

Chapter 49

Erin smelled damp earth and shivered in the biting cold. She lay on the hard ground and opened her eyes but could barely see the trees overhead in the dim light. The sound of running water was in the distance, and she could hear the rustling of someone moving in the bushes nearby.

She sat up slowly. Her T-shirt and jeans were dirty, but she had lost her shoes and her feet were bandaged. She couldn’t remember what had happened to her shoes and looked around for them. Where were they? Why were her feet bandaged?
What had happened? Was this a dream?

The nearby underbrush rustled again, and Gary stood up about ten feet from her. She watched him look around, spot her, and look away again. He looked as if he didn’t know where he was either. “Where are we?” she said as she stood. “Do you know what happened to my shoes?”

He glanced at her and mumbled, “I don’t know.” He frowned slightly and wandered in the direction of the running water. Erin followed him and saw he had lost his shoes too.

The shadowy forest was dense with underbrush, and the trees were close. They followed a small trail, and the light ahead grew brighter, making it easier to see the way. Erin sensed the place was familiar, but she had a hard time remembering when she’d been there before. She grew anxious and struggled to think back to where she and Gary had been before they came to the forest. All she recalled was being at the restaurant. She focused on that and tried to follow the events in her mind. She remembered they had argued and that she was very angry but didn’t know why. Her thoughts were so confused. The ground was cool and soft under her bandaged feet. She was certain she had hurt her feet running on the beach. Her memories started to return—there had been a mortifer on her beach. She remembered the men in the music store and what they had said—how they had threatened her. And riding in the car with Gary—she had been so angry. Why? Then she remembered—Gary was responsible for William’s death. She stopped. Her anger flared as her memory returned, and she wanted to scream at him, hit him, hurt him. He had taken her husband from her, destroying her life, her hopes and dreams.