Rite of Passage (23 page)

I sat, full of guilt and regret on so many levels. “I should call my mother and explain what’s going on,” I said, standing.

“I already have,” Gretchen answered. “She feels awful about what’s happening.”

I sat down again. “Am I the only one in North America who didn’t know what was going on?”

Gretchen laughed softly, trying to cheer me up. “Not the only one.” She patted my arm again. “I think there were two or three others.”

“One of them being Rachel, I hope.” I looked at her. “Please tell me that my relationship with Rachel wasn’t a ruse—that she had no part in this.”

“No, Robbie. What you and Rachel shared was real. We had nothing to do with that. Though it did complicate things.”

“Sorry to have made your lives so difficult.” It sounded sarcastic. It was meant to. “I should call her. She’s the only completely innocent person in all this. The problem is I have no idea what to tell her.”

As I stood again, Simon joined me. “Michael and I are heading to New York City,” he began. “We’ll take tomorrow’s flight to England and leave the plane in Shannon. From there we’ll take a boat to the Welsh coast.”

“What about the women on tonight’s flight?” I asked.

“We’ll follow them. Family members will be waiting in Gander and Shannon. If they disembark at either location, we’ll be there to
greet
them. Family members in MI5 know Courtney. They’ll meet the plane in Bournemouth. If it really is her and Mrs. Mac we’ll intercept them.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “My guess is that this is misdirection. They’ve done this to confuse us.”

Suddenly I realized he said
he
and
Michael
would be going to Wales. “Simon, what about me? You don’t think I’ll let you two go without me, do you?”

“It’s too dangerous,” Michael said from his seat. “When we find Courtney it might mean violence—having to hurt, even kill some of these creatures. Does my innocent younger brother want to be a party to that?”

“Jesus, Michael. I’m already part of this. If it hadn’t been for me, they could never have taken Courtney. I’m no soldier, but I’m a quick learner. You can’t leave me behind. I’ll stow away in your duffle bag if I have to!”

He shook his head, looking at Simon. “I told you he wouldn’t let us out of here without him.” Michael stood and approached. “Welcome to the Courtney Wellington search and rescue team.”

“Of course you can come.” Simon took my arm and directed me into the hallway. “But I’m concerned, Robert. You received two images from Courtney. Both can’t be real. There would be no reason to go toward Boston when Portland is east of us.” He scanned the corridor and pulled me into an alcove as he lowered his voice. “Someone here is working against us.”

“But why?”

“Heaven knows. Our way of life isn’t for everyone. Perhaps they were promised money or what it can buy—power. Both are very tempting. Maybe there’s some motive at work here that none of us can imagine.” He shrugged.

“All right. So you’re telling me that—”

“I’m telling you that someone else may have used their powers to send you that first message. There aren’t many who can to do that. Remember, I saw the image and thought it was genuine. I thought it was until that second vision. I’m just thankful Courtney was able to communicate with you to set us on the right course.”

Michael appeared at the door. “Having a secret conference?”

“No. We’re fine,” Simon assured him. “I was explaining what we’d discussed. That it’s likely someone here is working with them.”

Robbie…Robbie.
suddenly I heard the voice. It was Courtney. She was terrified. I tried to focus but all I saw was darkness.
Remember whatever happens
— For an instant I felt sharp pain, then nothing.

“What is it, Rob?” Michael saw I was shaking.

“Another message from Courtney. But it was strange. No image, just her voice and fear. She was frightened.”

“Those
bastards
,” Simon cursed. “I’ve never believed in violence, but if it takes the rest of my life, I’ll find them!”

“What did you see?” Michael asked.

“Nothing. It was dark. She called my name. Then started to tell me something. I felt a sudden sharp pain.” I was trembling I was so angry and frightened for Courtney. “What are we waiting for? Let’s get going,” I demanded.

“Robert, as much as I want to find her, there’s nothing we can do tonight. Let’s get something to eat and try to get some rest. The next few days are going to be long and difficult.”

I wanted to protest. But he was right. “All right. What do we need for the trip? You mentioned a boat and I assume when we get to Wales we’re going to be doing some hard overland traveling. I won’t pack my dinner jacket.”

“No.” Simon patted my shoulder. “Here’s what you’ll need...”

****

I sat in Jonathan’s office staring at the phone. I dreaded making this call. But I had to. I owed Rachel an explanation. The problem was I had no idea what to say. I could lie—tell her my car had broken down or that Michael needed my help to solve some imaginary crisis. I could tell her the truth. Was that really something I should do over the telephone? No. I had to do it in person. I picked up the receiver and gave the operator Rachel’s number. I heard the sound of the phone ringing in her apartment.

“Hello,” Rachel answered. I could hear anxiety and fatigue in her voice.

“Hi,” I whispered into the phone.

“Well if it isn’t my long-lost beau.” She sounded angry. I understood. I should have been back in Boston. “I thought you’d abandoned me.”

“No, Rachel, I haven’t abandoned you.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Where are you and what the hell’s going on, Robbie?”

I decided on the truth with some adjustments.

“Rachel, please don’t be angry.” I began. “Remember the girl from England?”

“How could I forget?” she said in clipped tones.

“Something’s happened to her. Something bad.”

“So what?” She paused. Her tone remained confrontational.

“She went out for a drive this morning with her nanny and they went missing. Michael found the car abandoned. No trace of either one of them.”

I heard a sigh. “Oh my God, Robbie, I’m sorry. That is terrible.” Her voice softened.

“Yes, it is. The girl’s grandfather’s here, too. He and Jon have asked if Michael and I could help. Courtney—that’s her name—was due to inherit a large estate. It’s possible they were kidnapped.”

“What do the police say?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. The grandfather’s handling things.”

“Okay.” Her tone was still chilly. “Do what you have to and please, keep in touch.”

Twisting the truth had worked. But I felt worse. How could I tell her the whole truth? Regardless of what happened I knew there had to be a reckoning. But as selfish as it was, for now, I had to keep Rachel in the dark. It was best for both of us.

“I’ll keep in touch. Don’t work too hard. You sound tired.”

“I’ll see you at your mother’s Friday night. Love you.” She kissed the receiver.

“Love you, too,” I said as I hung up the phone, ashamed for lying so often and so well. It was what we witches were best at.

Chapter Thirty-Five

I lay in my bed, tossing on rumpled sheets as I relived Courtney’s last message. I closed my eyes and concentrated, hoping to hear her again. I tried the opposite tack and let my mind go blank. Still nothing. I turned and looked at the clock on the night table. One-fifteen. I willed the hours to pass, wanting our journey to begin. At 2:00 a.m. I rose and went to the bathroom. I stared at the sleeping pills in my medicine cabinet.
Take one as needed,
the instructions read. I saw Rachel’s father’s name on the bottle again. I opened the top and popped one in my mouth.

The medication overcame my adrenaline and anxiety. I recalled images of Courtney and Rachel laughing in my dreams. One galloped across a golden meadow while the other ran out the hospital door, breathless, taking me in her arms.

“Robbie. Robbie!” Michael’s husky baritone called as he banged on my door. The sleeping pill had done its job too well.

“Coming,” I answered as I stumbled out of bed, sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains. I looked at the clock. Eight-fifteen. We were supposed to meet at eight. “Give me a minute.” I crossed the distance and pulled the door open.

“You look like hell.”

“Thanks. Nice to see you, too. I took a sleeping pill. Give me ten minutes.”

He looked at me rubbing his hand over his chin. “Okay, but get your ass in gear. We’ve gotta catch a plane.”

I nodded and turned. In three minutes, I was in and out of the shower. I pushed my toothbrush around as quickly as possible, put on deodorant, and dressed. No need for other affectations. I was on a mission. In less than eight minutes I stood in the courtyard, overnight bag in hand.

“Quick recovery,” Michael yelled as he motioned to the garage.

Simon paced. He was dressed in dark, simple clothing. So was Michael. We could have been agents heading out on a mission. Knowing our target, I welcomed the parallel. I’d never been in a tight spot with Simon, but if he was anything like Michael, the chances of rescuing Courtney were good.

Jon, Gretchen, Wendy, and a dozen other family members stood in the garage. An immaculate four-door Lincoln stood in the gravel driveway.

Jonathan approached and squeezed my shoulder. He gestured at the car. “She’s got a V-12, Rob. Get you there in no time.” He let out a long breath. “I’m sorry about all this. The way it’s turned out.”

“Not your fault, Jon.” I forced a smile. Regrets had no place. “No one could have foreseen this.”

Simon took my arm. “Let’s go. We’re wasting time.” He nodded. “We’ll get her back, Robert.”

I turned and placed two envelopes in Gretchen’s hands. One addressed to my mother, the other to Rachel. She looked down and rubbed her eyes. “If this doesn’t turn out well…” I took her face, looking into damp gray eyes. “Deliver these for me?” I asked. She hugged me so hard it took my breath away.

“They’ll be no need,” she said as I pulled free.

“I’ll take the first shift,” Michael volunteered.

Simon looked at me. “Fine with me.” I nodded, got into the back seat, and waved to the group. They stood, trying their best to look hopeful.

Simon got into the passenger seat. Michael put in the clutch and started the powerful engine. I never looked back.

****

It was dark, very dark, and damp. Courtney was chained and gagged. She lay on a cot, shivering. From the motion it felt as if they were somewhere at sea on a large vessel, but she couldn’t be sure. One of them had seen her communicating with Robbie. They struck her across the face with something sharp and took Mrs. Mac away with a noose around her neck. If Courtney used her powers again her nanny would pay the price.

Courtney feared for both of them. Her hands had been cuffed to the sides of her makeshift bed. She could have made easy work of freeing herself, but she had no idea what they might do to Mrs. Mac. The woman in charge told Courtney that they still had someone close to Robbie. If she tried to escape or communicate in any way they could do him harm or worse. She had to remain passive.

“I really need to use the bathroom,” she told the woman who came into her tiny cell when she removed the gag and turned on the small, bare overhead bulb. Courtney offered her captor a weak smile, trying to look compliant. This woman seemed brusque and rude, but it was a mask. She always gave in to whatever her captive asked. She was an easy target for Courtney. The woman undid the handcuffs. Courtney massaged her wrists. They had marks where the metal had pulled and chafed her skin.

“Go ahead,” the woman said, leaving the door open. Courtney knew the location of the head—the small ship’s bathroom. It was dirty and held a stale odor but it served its purpose. She wanted to communicate with Robbie again, but thought better of it. Her cheek still stung from the bruise where the other woman had struck her. She returned and compliantly sat back on her cot. The woman had brought some water and a ham sandwich, both of which Courtney devoured.

“Thank you.” She nodded with a warm smile. “Can you tell me why I’m here?” Courtney risked asking.

Her captor’s face grew dark. She played with her lip. “I can’t tell you anything, missy. But while you’re under my care, I’ll see to it that you and your friend are treated right.”

“Then Mrs. Mac is all right?” Courtney needed to know.

“Yes. We need to make sure you behave yourself,” she confided. The woman patted her captive on the shoulder and left. The light remained on and the handcuffs remained unattached. Courtney’s subtle manipulation of the woman’s mind had worked. But she still had no idea what their motive was. All she knew was that she had no intention of remaining docile for long.

****

Michael was the navigator. He had done his homework. The most direct route was through New Hampshire and central Massachusetts, but that would have bogged us down in endless small towns, halted us at traffic lights and forced us to slog along at forty miles an hour. He chose to go southeast to Portsmouth, then south along Route 1 around Boston. We hit fewer lights and were able to take advantage of the awesome power under the Lincoln’s hood. We were intercepted once by a Massachusetts State Trooper. The poor officer was no match for Simon. He stepped out from behind the wheel and went to talk to the officer. He was back in two minutes. The trooper looked dazed. We sped off at twenty miles an hour over the speed limit.

I kept waiting, praying for a sign, any indication Courtney was alive and knew we were coming to her rescue.

“They can’t do anything until Friday evening. They have to keep her alive until then. It’s essential,” Simon assured me as I got behind the wheel for my turn driving.

“I know.” I nodded. “But the last image was so dark, so frightening. I could sense fear and pain.” I stopped. There were no words. They might have hurt her. The prophecy said they needed her alive on Friday evening. It did not guarantee her comfort.

Chapter Thirty-Six

We parked the Lincoln in front of the sign that read
Departures
at New York’s Idlewild Airport. Michael handed the keys to a man waiting for us. A family member, I assumed. Entering the utilitarian concrete terminal the man who took the keys directed us toward the Pan American ticket counter. We were waved around the queue by another who handed each of us boarding passes. The thought crossed my mind that family members outnumbered the normal population.