Dear Irene

door, he stood stock still for a moment, then yanked open the door for them. They went charging out again, still barking, while Frank grabbed his gun.

“Frank, what the hell are you doing?”

“Stay inside and lock the doors!” he shouted over his shoulder, following the dogs. “Call 911 and tell them to roll a unit!” I heard the dogs quieting down and hurried toward the open door, but stopped cold about three feet away from it.

On the floor, just inside the doorway, was a bright red envelope with a computer label on it.

14

Dear Cassandra,

You must tell them that I have no quarrel with Alcyone. It is Ceyx who was to be punished. Poor Alcyone, still unaware. But it is done. Poseidon will bring him to you. Soon my work will be complete. Then we can be together, my beloved.

You see that I always know where you are, and who you are with. This does not concern me now. You will set these others aside in favor of me when you realize how powerful I truly am.

Your beloved,

Thanatos

Frank had carefully opened the letter, trying not to disturb any fingerprints that might be on the envelope. In addition to the letter, the envelope contained a small, shiny, odd-shaped key. A number was stamped into it.

“Lockbox key,” Frank said. “Probably show up on the Board of Realtors ‘lost and stolen’ list. I guess he wanted to let you know how he got into the house on Sleeping Oak.”

A helicopter passed overhead, searching for signs of the person who had hand-delivered this latest message. The dogs must have heard him skulking around the front door before he pushed the envelope through the mail slot. Frank never saw him; he was gone by the time Frank let the dogs out.

Jack came over, having heard the commotion. He sat down in the living room and read the letter without touching it. Frank and I were sitting on the couch, both feeling dejected. The dogs mirrored our mood, lying side by side with their heads on their paws. I distracted myself by lighting a fire in the fireplace, and checking on Cody, who had heard the barking and retreated to a closet shelf. I couldn’t seem to get warm. Frank put an arm around me, but still I was shivering.

“I’m sure you’ve figured out that he’s telling you he’s already killed his third victim,” Jack said.

I nodded. Frank said, “I know Poseidon is the god of the sea. Tell me about Alcyone and Ceyx.”

“He’s probably basing the letter on Ovid’s version of their story,” Jack began. “Ceyx was a king. He and his wife, Alcyone, were very devoted to one another. Ceyx planned a long sea voyage to visit an oracle.”

“His wife didn’t want him to go,” I said, remembering the story. “Alcyone had a sense of foreboding about it, and begged him to stay home, or to take her with him. He was reluctant to be separated from her, but didn’t want to endanger her. He promised to return as quickly as possible and began his voyage.”

“He should have listened to her,” Jack said. “The very first night, the ship was caught in a heavy storm. All hands were lost. Ceyx was grateful that his wife would not share his fate, and died saying Alcyone’s name over and over.

“But Alcyone, not knowing what had happened, passed her days weaving a new robe for him, and thinking of how happy she would be when they were reunited. She prayed to the gods for his safety, and they took pity on her.”

“She prayed to Hera, the goddess of marriage, right?” I asked.

“Yes, but Ovid, being Roman, called her Juno. Juno was moved to intervene. She called on Morpheus to help her.”

“The god of dreams?” Frank asked.

“Yes,” I replied. “Morpheus could assume any form or shape. He changed himself into the shape of Ceyx — Ceyx as he appeared drowned. Weeping, he stood by Alcyone’s bed, and told her — in Ceyx’s voice — that he was her husband’s ghost, and asked her to mourn for him.”

“Alcyone cried out to him in her sleep,” Jack said, “and suddenly awakened, feeling certain that Ceyx was dead. She went to the shore at dawn, and as she watched in agony, saw Ceyx’s body floating toward her. She ran into the water, and suddenly, instead of sinking, she was flying over the sea. The gods changed Alcyone and Ceyx into birds — kingfishers — and they’re always seen flying or riding the waves together.”

“The term ‘halcyon days’ comes from their story,” I said. “According to the legend, for seven days in winter, the days when the kingfishers nest, the gods forbid storms to break, and the sea is peaceful.”

Frank reread the letter. “Nothing peaceful here.”

“He’s drowned someone,” I said. “A man, this time.”

“I’m afraid that’s what it looks like,” Jack agreed.

Frank got up and made some phone calls. When he was done, I called the Express; they contacted John Walters, who had just gone home for the night. One of the nightside reporters called me back and told me John expected me to come in the next morning, and took a story from me over the phone. Another story on the Thayer murder was already planned for the front page. The staffers in Design were unhappy about seeing their day’s work on the A section completely rearranged, but John didn’t want to delay the story of the third letter.

WE TOOK THE DOGS out and watched the activity on the beach from the top of the stairway at the end of our street. We could see searchlights from boat patrols out on the water; more lights as jeeps and foot patrols searched the beach, pier, and marina. I wondered, with a chill, if Thanatos was watching it all with glee. I moved closer to Frank.

We went home after an hour or so, both of us feeling worn down. I tried to get Cody to come out of the closet and got clawed for my efforts. The dogs gave up scratching at the bedroom door. I tried not to make too much of the fact that Frank checked his gun before we crawled into bed. I don’t know what time it was when we finally managed to fall asleep.

The phone rang at dawn. An unidentified man’s body had washed ashore.