Adelaide Confused (21 page)

“
No, I don’t suppose I
would,” I replied. “It sounds a bit contrived. Contrived like
trying to waylay me in a public place where I can’t yell at you
properly. Were you afraid I’d make a scene at your precious
picnic?”

“
You do have a
temper.”

“
Everything you say is
bullshit.” Bullshit came out just as the father and daughter walked
past, heading for the door. I made amends by lowering my voice,
though we were now the only visitors present. “You led me to
believe that a simple phone call was the solution, that Lars would
rein in Beagban. But that wasn’t true, so what did you really do?”
When he didn’t immediately turn around I grabbed a fistful of his
Harvard T-shirt, pulling him to face me, demanding, “What did you
do?”

He was unmoved by my
antagonism, but answered all the same. “The night we escaped from
the barn I sent a few men back. They were to keep him there, to
watch him.” He looked into my eyes, the expression daring me to
disbelieve. “That’s all, they were only meant to keep him out of
the way until the book was found. If he could be tied to a crime in
any significant way then I would turn him over to the police when
this business was concluded.”

I stared at him, trying to
gauge the truth by his emotions. It was impossible. All liars were
dishonest, and dishonest people didn’t usually suffer from a guilty
conscience. I had believed his explanation before, hadn’t thought
to question it. That was a mistake I wouldn’t make twice. I didn’t
for a second believe that he only intended to detain Beagban, the
man that had killed his friend. And the longer I stared into his
apathetic eyes, the more certain I became that he was lying. Reed
Wallace was not above revenge. And his reprisal would not involve
the police.

Reed must have sensed my
skepticism, discerning the distrust from my silence. “I don’t
understand the complication here,” he said impatiently. “After all,
you were the one to insinuate that he should die.”

“
I wasn’t foolish enough to
think that I could, or even would, be capable of doing it. And you
called me bloodthirsty for suggesting that it would be a convenient
turn of events, you hypocrite!” A man wearing a bright orange
baseball cap came in through the swinging door. I waited for him to
pass before whispering, “And now we’ve got more dead men and one
very unhinged murderer running loose.”

Reed started to speak, but I cut him off. “I
swear, if the words ‘I’ll take care of it’ come out of your mouth,
I’ll kick you straight in the balls.”

Reed offered up a crooked
grin, saying, “I believe you would.” He stepped closer, leaning his
forearms against the wooden rail to my right. “Did you know that
the group of boys who reported the incident I spoke of also
admitted to being held at gunpoint by the same red-head only days
before?”

“
No,” I said absently, “I
hadn’t heard.” I watched the newcomer stare at us from under the
brim of his hat.

“
Knowing the red-head’s
identity would be useful, the perfect leverage really. All it would
take is one anonymous phone call to have the police poking around
with some very awkward questions.”

Baseball Cap caught me
watching him and turned away. It wasn’t his fault. Reed turned
heads wherever he went, usually women’s, but gay men’s too. “Don’t
bother with the threats. It couldn’t be me. My hair isn’t red, it’s
strawberry-blonde.”

“
Of course,” Reed agreed in
the most charming of ways.

“
I don’t know how you can
patronize me at a time like this. Beagban promised to kill you
too.”

“
What I said before is
true. Without Lars’ permission, Beagban won’t kill either of
us.”

I pulled down my collar,
revealing the fresh scratch marks on my neck. “Excuse me if I’m not
convinced.”

He eyed my neck while
saying, “I didn’t think you would be. That’s why I brought you
this.” He pulled a ring from his pocket, a bulky silver thing
covered in lumps of turquoise and coral.

Sourly I asked, “What does
it do?” thinking I already had one ring too many.

I watched as he pressed the
stones down. They disappeared beneath the decorative silver plating
which he then slid aside unhindered. Inside, wedged between two
stones, was a small black button. It was tiny really, like the
reset button on a watch. “Press this and it will alert my security.
They’ll send someone to your location in a matter of minutes.” He
slid the cover back into place, the stones snapped up, and it was a
ring once more. A very large ring.

“
Couldn’t you find
something less... obtrusive?”

He brushed his fingers
across my hand, gently touching the bead and wire wrapped around my
index finger. “It’s not delicate like this.” I jerked away and he
pretended not to notice. “It’s Tibetan, but with a panic button and
tracking device hidden inside, what it truly is is
useful.”

I took it, sliding it onto
my middle finger where it filled the space between my knuckles. It
dwarfed the ghost ring which sat equally as cheap, but with much
more decorum. At least the little ring knew its place, though it
continued to do that creepy materializing trick. I couldn’t decide
whether it held some sort of compulsion, so that when my mind was
preoccupied I’d slip the ring back on without a thought, or if the
moment I stopped thinking about it, it would appear on my
forefinger all by itself like magic.

“
So that’s it?” I said,
waving my hand around. “Hope I get to the button before he chops
off my arms?”

“Yes, that’s the idea.”

“
I Googled you at work, you
know, and according to Wikipedia you have an abundance of money and
influence.”

He eased closer. “You
Googled me?”

I ignored the implication. “So why aren’t you
doing anything with all that money and influence?”

“
I can’t go to the police
and accuse Lars Hurst of sending Beagban to kill and kidnap for a
demon diary, now can I? I believe proof is required to convict a
man, and we’ve no evidence to tie Beagban to any of it.” He was
growing frustrated, most likely at my obstreperous behavior.
“Believe it or not I’m pulling my resources, the best I have being
a young woman who is not only destined to find the book, but can
also discover who is leaking information to Lars.” He gave me a
pointed look. “But it’s hard work getting her to cooperate,
she’s... difficult.”

“
Well it’s not here,” I
said, trying not to sound too sulky.

“
Yes, I’d reached the same
conclusion,” he said, pushing off the railing to stand upright.
“Now it would be best to return before your friends come to find
us.”

Leaving was next to
impossible. Francesca inserted herself between Reed and his car,
unwilling to part until she was sure she had a reason to see him
again. She was hoping for a date, but willing to settle for an
invitation to the picnic this afternoon.

Overhead the sun climbed
high, a reminder that summer was upon us. I waved my hand back and
forth trying to fan away the heat and humidity. Unlike Stephen I
was not titillated by their flirtatious exchange, and I did my best
to space-out. Through the trees and shrubs I could just make out
the island’s Club Hotel, the old building sprawling over itself and
topped off with a turret. Once upon a time it was a playground
getaway for the rich, made more famous for its romantic role,
starring as the location used for the creation of the Federal
Reserve. But after today it would forever be ingrained in my brain
as only one thing—haunted.

Ghosts peppered the
historic district in smears of white, moving over the grounds each
in their own way. Between two cars a column of mist shivered,
trying to press itself into shape. Further down the sidewalk a
young girl blinked in and out, transparent in her late Victorian
gown as she followed the visitors. It was unnerving to see so many,
having only found a few on St. Simons. A curtain of fog, out of
place on such a sunny day, drifted out from behind the Turtle
Center, a building that had once been the club’s power plant. I did
my best to ignore them, all the while keeping watch with my
peripheral vision.

The words “She can be a bit
off-putting at times” snapped me to attention. Francesca continued,
saying, “I’d be more than happy to tag along, make sure she doesn’t
get into any trouble.” I considered being offended, but didn’t
bother, reminding myself that it was the charm’s effect
talking.

Reed said something like,
“Adelaide’s work requires discretion, and a stunning woman like you
would attract far too much attention.” But I couldn’t be sure that
was exactly what he said because a gust of wind pushed at my back,
distracting me.

The palm trees that fringed
the lot to my left swayed restlessly. Odd, apart from that corner
of the parking lot everything was still. I turned to find a filmy
white presence pushing the palm fronds, and me.

It slunk about, sliding in
from behind like a lazy puddle. It pressed against everything in
its path, acting the part of an errant breeze. I focused my eyes on
whoever was speaking, but my attention remained fixed to the snowy
smudge.

It hovered for a moment,
but then moved away. I exhaled in relief, having worried it knew I
was watching.

My relief came too soon. At
about fifteen paces away it stopped drifting. I went equally still.
Twitching with agitation it circled around my body slowly from
afar, then it was barreling towards me, picking up speed and
rolling fast like a freight train. I automatically cringed, my
muscles tightening as I braced myself, but the impact never came.
Whether it went through me, I wasn’t sure. I opened my eyes to find
the ghost flourishing back and forth. I got the feeling that I was
being watched, maybe studied and tested.

I would have taken the ring
off then if I thought it would do me any good. But the damn thing
had a mind of its own, and removing it had proven futile. I settled
for pretending, forcing myself to ignore the specter and interact
with the living. Reed was giving Stephen money, paying him in
advance for covering my shift. Francesca was unhappy, knowing her
time was nearly up and she hadn’t yet made much progress with Reed.
In a last ditch effort she said, “I’m hungry, how about we go to
the wharf and get some seafood.”

Reed checked his
ridiculously expensive watch. “Not enough time, I’m
afraid.”

Francesca used the watch as
an excuse to touch him, gripping his wrist and turning it gently.
She clicked her tongue regretfully, admitting, “You’re right, it’s
nearing noon. Another time then?”

I looked to Stephen with no
small curiosity, wondering how he wasn’t jealous watching Francesca
throw herself at Reed. He studied them with interest, eyeing
Francesca as if she was a rare and exotic creature. It wasn’t the
first time I realized how wise he was. But it never failed to
impress me how he used every occasion, every situation, to learn
something. No doubt he was discovering what Francesca looked for in
a man, and how Reed fit the bill. No doubt when he shed the acne
and filled out a bit he’d be tragically handsome and completely
appealing.

It was as if the
troublesome ghost could see his potential. It had been hanging
around, taunting me, and now it was sidling closer to Stephen. The
mist coalesced, thickening into a writhing white mass.

She appeared, filling in
from the smoke, a woman who had clearly lost her life in the
seventies. She wore tight, high-waisted flaring pants, and tucked
beneath were chunky cork wedge shoes. Her hair was feathered in the
Farrah Fawcett flip. With a wide face, eyes set too far apart, and
a dimpled chin, she wasn’t pretty, but she had a vital look about
her, even dead.

I watched without watching
as her hands moved over his shoulders and up his neck. He didn’t
seem to notice, that was, until she pinched him. He winced,
slapping at his neck as if there was a mosquito.

I knew then that it was a
test, that she was looking for my reaction. I wasn’t keen to please
her. She made me nervous. I didn’t need another ghost following me
around. I already had one, one and a half if you counted the dog.
I’d like to see Percival do better.

I’d been ignoring ghosts
all morning, but she proved to be a challenge. She moved on to
Francesca, circling around in a predatory sort of way.
Insubstantial fingers whispered over my friend’s body, through her
hair. The ghost smiled at me and leaned in as if she’d talk into
Francesca’s ear, but instead she blew. Francesca shivered, that was
all. I, on the other hand, was totally freaked out.

I tried not to think about
the ick factor, pretending instead to be a bit bored and impatient,
not hard as it was partially true. But Stephen must have seen
through it because I caught him staring at me with a worried
expression. And then he said, “Can we go? I need to get ready
before I cover Adelaide’s shift.”

I’d never been so grateful
to Stephen in all my life. And though Reed would never know it, he
was grateful too, because the ghost had been stroking his thigh
when we parted ways. Apparently he could charm even the
dead.