Out of Body

Just a few more days.

He pulled himself up, stair by stair, to the door of his sanctum and strained to clamp onto a recessed handle. With renewed vigor, he used the small onyx key that was the only means of entry.

The door closed behind him automatically. In the center of a single room draped with diaphanous, many-colored silks and lined with gilded divans, an enameled cabinet stood on a carved table.

He allowed himself a sneer of glee. Shuffling, reaching, trembling in his haste, he touched the chest and tapped the jade and mother-of-pearl inlay. A beautiful thing fit to contain his most precious possession.

The other end of the onyx key slipped easily into a lock that released double doors. They swung open.

On a black velvet bed inside, an image shimmered, a memory of what should have been there.

He recoiled.

As he had desperately feared, the red doll house that was his only escape to his own world was no longer in its place.

He stared at the wavering, transparent representation of his very being—and his salvation—and slid soundlessly to the floor. There was only one course of action now. He would set about repossessing his property—by whatever means necessary.

From the folds of his robe, he brought out the tiny scrap of black cotton that had clung to one of his claws when he had struck out at Marley Millet. Holding the fabric to his brow, he crawled onto a divan and opened his inner eye.

He concentrated, searching for the channel that would take him to her.

Chapter 34

“Barefoot in the park,” Marley said. She smiled up at Gray although she could scarcely see his face in the darkness.

Hand-in-hand they walked in the damp grass behind the house at Myrtle Wood. Here and there a bird flew up, startling Marley.

She and Gray had left their shoes on the gallery. Nat should arrive shortly and they intended to be as collected as possible when they saw him.

“The grass feels good,” Gray said. “And so do you.”

She heard the smile in his voice. “It feels as if we’re stealing time.”

“We are. But we deserve it. I could be wrong, but my gut tells me we’re about to go into high gear. Mad gear. Does a scuffle in a cupboard mean anything to you? Could be a cupboard, a pantry or who knows what. And a lot of flailing down some stairs. Or am I starting to make up some of what I think I see?”

Marley pulled him to face her. “It means something, Gray.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

“Remember yesterday, when I said I saw Liza before I was in the warehouse? There was a cupboard where Liza was—a big one like a storeroom. We went through it and down wooden stairs before the man…”

“Before the man what?”

She wanted to shut that out. And she wanted to think about how the transference was happening between her and Gray—and if there was some way they could make these connections work for them.

“Marley?”

“He attacked Liza.”

“You saw this?”

She opened her mouth to breathe. “I was inside Liza. My mind was inside hers. I saw through her eyes, or what she could see at the bottom of a blindfold.”

“Oh, my God.”

“We need to hurry or Nat will get here and we’ll be wandering around the lawn,” Marley said, walking faster.

“Did he—”

“Please. Don’t push. It can’t be changed now. Do you hear an engine?” She paused to listen. “A great big engine. Who can that be?”

Gray followed her up the steps to the gallery. “It can be Nat Archer in his black Corvette. His baby. Let’s keep going. If it’s someone else, I don’t want him walking up on us while we’re sitting.”

“Why?”

He carried on toward the side of the house and Marley followed. “Let’s just say I’m into making sure I’ve got every advantage available. Between being looked up at and looked down on, there’s no contest about where the advantage is.”

“Hmm,” she said, and speeded her steps to keep up with him. Evidently she would always be at an extreme disadvantage.

“Sure enough,” Gray said when they got to the front. “One flashy black money sink. He loves that car.”

“We all have things that are important to us. I think for a lot of men, a car takes the place of a wife or children. In a very general way.”

“Nat loves a woman a hell of a lot more than he loves that car,” Gray said. “I hope you meet Wazoo one day. She’s something. Doesn’t come to New Orleans often. And before you start with the questions, I don’t know why they haven’t taken things farther. Nat’s a city cop, Wazoo’s a country witch. I guess they’re having problems working out the logistics.”

Marley laughed and clung to his sleeve. “Country witch?”

““I’m serious,” he said. “Now you get serious. And never mention Wazoo to Nat unless he does first. Which won’t happen. Maybe if you know him four or five years, you’ll meet her.”

She chortled. “I want to.”

Nat had bent down and his head and upper body were invisible from the back of his car. When he emerged, he carried several paper sacks.

“Hey,” Gray called.

Nat searched for Gray and Marley and nodded when he saw where they were. “Shall I come up there?”

“Why not? Unless you’ve got a better idea.”

“No one around?” Nat asked.

“Not a soul.”

“It won’t get better than that.”

Nat jogged up the steps and fell in with Gray and Marley as they started toward the back of the house again.

They got to the table and chairs, where the citronella flames threw long tongues of shadow and light. Gray waved Nat to the chair Sidney had used then sat down with Marley beside him.

“What’s in the bags?” Marley asked. She had never mastered patience.

“Things I want to show you,” Nat said. He slid forward on the seat of his chair and laced his fingers behind his neck. “Your turn first. You called me, remember?”

“We should probably have come in to you,” Gray said. “Now we’re all here, I don’t know why we didn’t do that.”

“Because we need neutral ground where we’ve got a chance at clear heads and no interruptions,” Nat said.

Marley decided she liked the way Nat thought. “And this is a haunted place,” she said. “That can be helpful.” She brought her lips carefully together. What would make her admit to something they couldn’t possibly understand?