Casa Dracula 3 - The Bride Of Casa Dracula (19 page)

I remembered Daisy crouching in the grass by my garden. “Daisy used to hunt anything that came near the house.”

Cornelia gave me a bemused glance. “I do hope you won’t accuse me of orchestrating a rat attack against you.”

I felt deep in my gut that the accident was not an accident, but how could it be anything else?

Sam asked Frank who had called the sheriff’s office.

The big man shook his head. “Don’t know. The call came from one of the roadside emergency boxes, and when the sheriff got there fifteen minutes later, the caller was gone. Some guy, that’s all they know.”

I said, “Maybe someone heard me shouting for help. I wish he’d given his name so I could thank him.”

Frank said, “He’d a left his name if he cared.”

Gabriel thanked Frank for coming and we all said good-bye to him. Then the cousins walked him out of the house, leaving Cornelia, Oswald, and me.

I forced myself to turn to Cornelia and say, “I would like to apologize. I was wrong and I should not have made assumptions.”

Cornelia enjoyed her little moment, making significant eye contact with Oswald and letting me stew for a minute before saying, “I accept your apology. It’s only a bride’s nerves.”

I had been wrong, wrong, wrong, and she was being gracious. So why was I fuming?

Oswald said, “Ladies, this was an unfortunate accident. Now, can we put it behind us?”

I nodded, and Cornelia said, “It’s already forgotten.”

“Good.” He stroked my head and said, “I’m going to the barn and see about moving one of those cats up here. Ernie and I will check the other cars to make sure they’re okay.” He loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt.

When the cousins reconvened, Gabriel advised Oswald to contact the sheriff with a copy of Frank’s report about the cause of the accident. He said that he and Sam would update the Council on the situation.

“What does the Council have to do with this?” I asked.

“We have to make a report every time local authorities get involved with our activities,” Sam said. “It’s a precaution.”

“I shan’t file a complaint against you, Young Lady,” Cornelia said with a wave of her manicured hand. “I’m ever so parched.”

That’s why Cornelia was so ready to forgive me: I was now in her debt.

“I’ll make the drinks,” I said.

wherein our heroine’s sanity is questioned

S am couldn’t stay for cocktails, so I walked him outside to his car. “Check it for rat damage,” I said.

“I’m sure it’s okay,” Sam answered, but he popped the hood and peered inside. “Looks fine,” he said and closed the hood. “May I say something?”

“Sam, you can always say whatever you want to me.”

“We all realize that your past experiences may have made you cautious.”

“‘Cautious’ being a euphemism for ‘paranoid.’”

“No, not paranoid,” he said quickly. “But overly suspicious. We’re all cautious, Young Lady, but-”

“But I shouldn’t accuse someone of trying to kill me on pure speculation?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Sam, I admire your calmness and rationality, but I hope that you can understand that an extreme situation inspires an extreme reaction.”

He gave me a slow smile. “It’s in those extreme situations that calmness and reason are most important.”

“We’d have to be more specific about the extreme situation before I’d agree.” I admired Sam, but he lacked a flair for the dramatic. “Sam, have you heard back from the Council about the loyalty oath?”

“They haven’t gotten back to me.” He looked off for a moment and then said, “This incident won’t help.”

“They’re not going to blame me?” I asked, stunned.

Instead of answering, he gave me a hug and said, “Come visit us soon.”

Cornelia was on her second martini and in such a good mood that my concerns that she would exploit the situation began to dissipate. Gabriel’s presence always cheered us, and I was disappointed when he left.

Cornelia came into the kitchen while I was making dinner, ostensibly in search of cocktail olives. I handed her a bottle and she said, “Joseph told me that Oswald should grow olive trees here.”

“I’ve thought of that,” I said. “Even an acre could give us a nice crop in some years.”

“Really?”

Well, that’s all it took. As I chopped and sautéed vegetables, I started talking about an olive grove and other possible gardening ideas. Somehow I was soon describing the differences between annuals and perennials, and deciduous versus evergreen plants. I discussed the value of botanical names.

“Common names can be colorful, like kiss-me-over-the-garden-gate, but they’re not precise. If someone mentions mock-orange, he could be talking about a variety of Philadelphus or about Pittosporum undulatum, which is also called Victorian box.” This was one of my favorite shrubs, and the heady scent always made me think of being in love. I’d planted one beside the house, where I hoped it would survive the winter cold.

She said, “Ian finds your fanaticism amusing, but that’s more than I ever cared to know.”

Since Oswald wasn’t around, I asked, “How is your brother? And Ilena?”

“Wildly happy together. He called last night and I told him about your accident. He’ll be relieved to learn that you were only a victim of rats.” She laughed, and when I didn’t join in, she said, “Try and see the positive side. A girl in trouble is irresistible to Oswald. He wants to have some troubled female leaning on his strong and capable shoulders.”

After our meal, we settled into the family room with blood spritzers and watched a Dutch film about a young artist who goes mad when her lover abandons her. I found it quite tragic and blinked back tears. Cornelia seemed to think it was a comedy.

When I gave her a look, she said, “Oh, Americans always take love so seriously.”

“Cornelia, what is your nationality, anyway?”

“I’m a citizen of the world, darling.”

It was the same answer her brother had once given me. I thought they probably had a stash of various passports and identification documents.

I took a few dog biscuits outside and wandered into the fields calling for Pal. He probably didn’t even know he had a name.

I went through the garden, inhaling the scent of mock-orange, and remembered a poem I’d read somewhere about the scent of the blossoms. I’d look it up tomorrow.

As I washed up before going to bed, I kept looking at my engagement ring glittering in a china dish on the vanity. Beside it was the silver penknife.

The next day, I decided that I was done with being passive and patient. The first thing I was going to do was get behind the wheel again. I told Cornelia I was running a few errands and would be back soon.

“If you don’t return, shall I alert a pest control company?”

I could have come back with several snappy rejoinders about Cornelia and vermin. But now I owed her. “Can I pick up anything for you in town?”

“A case of the palest rosé you can find,” she said. “That little spa has a nail polish called Bruised that I like. And please bring back the latest issues of the magazines, including both French and Italian Vogue.”

“Sorry, but the store only carries the domestic edition.”

“What good is that? Oh, bring it anyway.”

I took my keys and went to my little green truck. Before leaving, I looked in the engine. It stank of the mothballs Ernie had put in there to deter rodents, but nothing was obviously amiss.

On the way down the drive, I hit the brakes and played with the steering. Everything was fine. There was nothing to worry about.

Although the town was small, the local market had a fine selection of wines from local wineries. I found a suitably uncommited rosé and bought a case, along with magazines and groceries. The cozy spa was out of Bruised but recommended a similar red-black shade called Gangrene.

I kept the truck’s windows down, not just because my air-conditioning was broken but so I could better listen to the engine. My confidence in the vehicle was restored by the time I pulled into the parking lot at the nursery. A new sign with Lupine Fields Nursery on it had been raised above the front door. Joseph came out front as I got out of the truck.

“Hey, muffin!” He gave me a huge hug, lifting me off the ground for a few seconds.

“Hi to you, too!” I said. It was always so delightful when people were happy to see me. And by people, I meant handsome, hunky guys.

When he put me down, he asked, “How are you?” and it sounded like an actual question, instead of just a cordial remark.

“Good. I’ll be better after a little retail therapy here.” He kept looking at me, and I realized he’d probably heard about the accident. In a small town, word got around fast. “My car went off the road on the mountain, though.”

“I heard about that. What happened?”

Recalling Cornelia’s jokes about the rats, I said, “Mechanical failure. Faulty computer thingy. Totally a fluke.”

“That road is a menace.”

“It is. Cars go off it all the time, especially in the winter,” I said. “That’s why they have those emergency roadside call boxes. But usually the drivers just ram into some trees and their alcohol level keeps them from feeling any pain.”

“You were so worried about my car swipe, and here you are acting nonchalant about flying off a mountain road.”

“Like you, I’d rather not think about it right now. Let’s enjoy the day. I love the name of your nursery.”

“You mentioned the lupine blooming in the spring and it seemed like a good enough name.”

“Just wait till you see it. The hills turn the most marvelous shade of blue-purple. What’s new in your stock?”

“Let me show you.”

As we were walking back to the nursery, Joseph sniffed and looked around. “What’s that smell?”

I shrugged. “Mothballs. These clothes were in storage.”

I bought a flat of thyme, several lavenders, rosemary, and annuals that would bloom in autumn. When Joseph said that he’d like to see my garden sometime, I realized that he probably hadn’t met many people here yet.

“Come to dinner tonight,” I said. “Cornelia will be happy to see you, and you can meet my guy.”

He grinned. “Cornelia’s something, isn’t she?”

Some “thing” was an accurate assessment. “Yes, she is.”

“I like that hard edge with the femininity. I hate clingy, needy women, and Cornelia’s not that.”

“So you do understand Cornelia,” I said with surprise.

“Oh, yeah, I get her. Just like I get you. Under all the sexiness and friendliness, you’re a complicated chick, aren’t you? I’m only here because I had to get away from my ex. Who are you hiding from?”

I laughed, but it was a little forced, since I’d first come here to hide. “You accuse me of complexity to flatter my ego. I’m sure that works with some girls.”

“Nah, usually they just check out my butt and that works.”

I laughed as I loaded the last of the plants in the truck. “So can you make it to dinner, or not?”

He said he’d come after work, and I gave him directions. As I said good-bye, he gave me a terrific hug.

At the ranch, I called Oswald’s offices and left a message that Joseph was coming to dinner. Then I called his grandmother. “Hi, Edna. Do you know that I nearly died the other day?”

“Hello, Young Lady. Sam told me the news. He said that you accused Cornelia of trying to murder you.”

“The murder claim might have been premature, but I did really nearly die.”

She paused. “Of course, I’m happy you’re all right. You have more lives than a cat.”

“So it seems, but I still got freaked out. It didn’t feel like an accident. It felt intentional.”

“I can see how you would think that, but Sam said the investigator didn’t have any doubts that it was accidental.”

“I know. That’s what perplexes me. I’m extremely perplexed. I’m beyond perplexed. Superplexed even. Überperplexed. Come home.”

“Since you’re fine, there’s no need to curtail my holiday.”

“Holiday from what?”

“From your field of chaos and drama.”

We snipped back and forth before moving on to other chatter. I told her about Joseph Alfred, the new nursery, and my quasi pet, Pal. Finally, I asked a question that had been on my mind. “Edna, do you think Oswald is attracted to women who are in a state of crisis? Do you think he was attracted to me because I was in a state of crisis?”

“What peculiar questions.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Young Lady, you make your attractions evident enough to any breathing heterosexual male.”

“Yes, and some adventurous nonheterosexual males as well, but that is another nonanswer.”

“Are you bickering with me?”

“I’m really trying to, but it’s more fun doing it in person when I can see you sneering at me.”

“Good-bye, Young Lady.”

“Good-bye, Edna.”

I found Cornelia in the pool compound, floating in the blue water, her narrow butt sunk in the middle of an inner tube. The day’s bright, clear light was filtered through the translucent roof, keeping her safe from the sun’s rays. The vampires lived longer and healthier lives, but I was frequently struck by pity for them.

“Corny…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Cornelia, Joseph is coming for dinner.”

She sat up so quickly that the inner tube rolled over and dumped her in the water. She splashed to the surface, sputtering, her hair plastered to her head. It was the first time I’d ever seen Cornelia lose her poise, and I wished I had a camera.

She swam to the edge of the pool and pulled herself up. I tossed her a towel. She sniffed and said, “What is that-”

“Mothballs. Dinner’s at seven.”

She dried herself, saying, “I suppose I could help you with something.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I could, mmm.” She thought for a moment. “I could arrange the flowers.”

When she had dressed and put on her enormous straw hat, we went out to the garden. I didn’t entirely trust her with my precious Felco pruners. I thought she’d either snip off her fingers or kill one of my plants, but I showed her how to cut the stems of fragrant old roses. “This one is ‘Rêve D’or,’” I said.

“Dream of gold,” she translated.