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Curse of the Painted Lady (The Anlon Cully Chronicles Book 3) Page 8
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Evelyn had been very edgy, looking up at the skies constantly. When it became clear they would not find a place in the shelter, Evelyn had shivered with panic. Aja had tried to calm her, suggesting they turn back and head for the Holland Park Underground station. Evelyn had pressed to keep in the same direction, arguing the Latimer Road station was closer. Shortly after agreeing on Latimer, they had been intercepted by a bobby as they rushed along Bomore Road. Aja could still recall the drone of the bombers’ engines as she replayed the memory of what happened next.
The bobby called to them and a group of others caught on the street. He urged them to follow him down a set of steps leading to the basement of a rowhouse. He kicked in the door and waved them into the dark cavern just as the bombs began to land. Thunderous explosions shook the building above them, growing louder and more violent with each successive blast. Aja and Evelyn found an empty spot against a wall and huddled close together. With eyes closed and arms wrapped around each other, they teetered with each concussion.
Aja didn’t recall the blast that cratered the building above them. She remembered Evelyn squeezing her tightly, and then nothing else until she awoke to discover herself buried beneath a mountain of rubble. In the blackness, she had been unable to see or move. Badly wounded, Aja had called out for Evelyn, but there had been no answer. The only sounds had come from the rubble settling around her and intermittent moans. Throughout the long night, while a rescue brigade dug through the debris to reach the survivors, Aja beseeched Evelyn to say something, anything. But Evelyn never said a word. And her body was never found.
Aja placed her hands on the box lid as she recalled mourning Evelyn. Her fingers trembled as she relived the discovery of Evelyn’s true fate…and her betrayal. Shunting aside the bitter memories, Aja threw open the box lid and looked inside.
A short while later, the cubicle door flung open. Aja pushed Debbie aside and left the anteroom. She hoisted her satchel over her shoulder as she stomped down the hallway and spewed a stream of epithets. She continued to curse as she pounded through the lobby, completely unaware it was now vacant of employees and patrons. Blinded by fury, she pushed through the bank’s double-glass doors with a scowl on her face — a scowl that vanished when she heard guns cocking and a voice to her left shout, “Freeze!”
Paralyzed with shock, Aja teetered to a stop.
“On the ground. Hands up!” yelled another voice, this one coming from the right.
Aja blinked rapidly and swiveled her head in the directions of the voices. Instinctively, she shoved her hands into her coat pockets.
“Hands out of your pockets! On the ground, now!” screamed the advancing police officer on the right, gun pointed at Aja.
“There must be some mistake,” she frantically said.
“Down! Down! Get those hands out where I can see them.”
“Okay, okay,” she said. Lowering to her knees, she slowly slid her hands from her pockets. In each, she gripped a Stone…
Incline Village, Nevada
Legs dangling from the dock, Pebbles watched tiny droplets of rain dance on the water’s surface, blurring the reflection of the dreary clouds above. Closing her eyes, she listened to the comforting pitter-patter of rain on the hood of her anorak and thought of Anabel.
She wanted to mourn for her but found it difficult. She wanted to believe Anabel had been the sweet, smiling woman in the pictures with Devlin, the woman who’d shared a long, exotic love affair with the cantankerous archaeologist, the woman with a garden full of butterflies and a kitchen full of Holstein cow knickknacks.
But she just couldn’t embrace the images. Instead, when she thought of Anabel, her mind filled with thoughts of Malinyah. Of her loss of Alynioria. Of what Muran had done to the both of them. Pain, emptiness, rage. Those were the feelings that crept into Pebbles’ mind. Malinyah’s emotions. Though they weren’t as sharp as when she was bonded with Malinyah’s Sinethal, they were still there, and Pebbles expected they would linger for a very long time.
Opening her eyes, Pebbles unzipped her coat and stroked her fingers along the thin, gold necklace holding Malinyah’s medallion. When her hand reached the medallion, she clutched it and held it against her breast. The gesture always had a calming, soothing effect, one that chased away Malinyah’s sorrowful memories and the loneliness that accompanied them. She sighed and let go of the medallion. It was unfair to speculate Anabel was Muran, she thought. Not yet. They needed to know for sure.
Pebbles shivered as the intensity of the rain picked up. While her coat was waterproof, her leggings were not, and they were now soaked. The thin garment offered little protection from the icy mountain air when dry, and no protection when wet. Shivering again, she abandoned her dockside vigil and headed toward Anlon’s house. As she walked along the dock, she looked up at the sky, rain splattering her face, and wondered when it would end. The morning weather report had suggested it would clear by ten, but it was nearly nine now and there was no sign of it letting up.
An hour later, Pebbles stood in the kitchen, bundled in flannel pajamas, robe and thick socks, and waited for the Keurig to perform its brewing magic. Outside the kitchen window, she watched the pine needle–covered yard sparkle as the sun finally began to poke through the cloud cover. She mumbled, “Huh, I guess the weather forecast was right after all.”
Thinking of the weather forecast caused Pebbles to recall her visit to Sydney’s Bistro earlier in the week. She had stopped by after returning from Nicaragua to say hello to Sydney and visit with the off-season “regulars” at the bar, and quickly found herself engaged in an hour-long discussion about the winter weather forecast. Most of the talk had been about the prospects of another deluge of snow over the winter, a welcome development for a community that depended as much on a robust ski season as it did on summer lake lovers. For several years in a row, during the worst of California’s severe drought, Tahoe had barely seen a flake of snow. But last year, nearly six hundred inches had fallen in the mountains surrounding the lake, and the regulars had been downright giddy speculating snow totals for the coming winter.
Her reminiscence was interrupted by the sound of liquid gold gurgling from the Keurig’s spout into her insulated travel cup. While she watched the cup fill, she caught a glimpse of movement outside the window. Looking up, she spotted Griffin “Bones” Taylor striding toward the back patio in a T-shirt, shorts and sandals. Griffin, their next-door neighbor, was the lead guitarist for a metal rock band and, more recently, a frequent companion of Jennifer’s.
Pebbles cracked open the door leading from the patio to the kitchen and called out, “Hurry up, it’s freezing out there.”
Griffin smiled and waved as he mounted the slate steps to the kitchen door. “Hey there, Pebbles! Good to see you.”
“Same here,” she said as he reached the door. “Coffee? Just take a sec to whip up a cup.”
“Sounds great,” he said, shivering.
“What the heck were you thinking going out like that?” she asked, pointing to his out-of-season choice of clothing.
He laughed and said, “Heading to Maui this afternoon. I guess you can tell I’m excited to go.”
“Maui? I’m jealous. Jen will be, too. Does she know?” Pebbles asked, as she refilled the coffeemaker’s water tank.
“Yeah, I told her. Even invited her to come along, but she’s tied up with stuff in Vermont. I promised her a rain check. That seemed to soften the blow...a little,” he said with a sheepish smile.
Pebbles held up two K-cup pods. “Breakfast Blend or Medium Roast?”
“What? No Dark Roast Kona?”
“Um, no…and we don’t have battery acid blend, either.”
“Okay,” he said, feigning disappointment. “I’ll go with the Breakfast Blend.”
“Good choice,” she said, placing the pod into the coffeemaker. They sat at the kitchen table while the machine hummed and gurgled. “So, what’s up?”
“Jen called last night and asked that I ch
eck in on you before I go,” he said. “She seemed kinda worried about you.”
Typical, but sweet, thought Pebbles. While Jennifer was a good friend and colleague, she also had a motherly side to her that could be annoying at times. Don’t walk too close to the ledge, Pebbles! Careful, the monkey might bite you if you get too close! Look out for falling rocks! Yada, yada. And since Anabel’s murder, Jennifer’s safety-conscious henpecking had grown exponentially.
“Well, as you can see, I’m doing just fine,” she said, rising to fetch Griffin’s coffee.
“Thank you,” he said, receiving the mug. “She’ll be glad to hear it.”
He raised the cup and sniffed the aroma drifting up from the mug. Standing by the refrigerator, Pebbles asked, “Cream or sugar?”
“Yes to both, please.”
Pebbles grabbed creamer from the refrigerator and a sugar bowl from the counter and returned to the table. They sat together in silence while Griffin stirred in his preferred mix of the additional flavors. The silence was awkward to Pebbles, made even more awkward by the fact that Griffin wouldn’t look up at her.
“So, are you headed to Maui for business or pleasure?” she asked.
“A little of both. There’s a drummer there I’m going to see. We need a fill-in for Nicky for a little while.”
“Oh, no. What happened to him?”
“Rehab.”
“Ah, sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. The numb-nut’s forty-two but parties like he’s twenty-one. Hopefully the rehab will stick this time.” Griffin sipped his coffee and looked off into space.
“I’m sure it’s hard,” Pebbles said. “I imagine there are a lot of temptations.”
“No doubt. We try to keep as much of the craziness away from him as we can, but he always seems to find a way around us. You know the expression, trouble finds him? Well, that’s Nicky.” Griffin paused to sigh while swirling a spoon in his coffee. “Anyway, enough of our band blues. Are you back for a while?”
“Just a couple days. I’m meeting Anlon and Jen in New York on Friday, then I’m headed back to Nicaragua the week after that.”
“Cool.”
“Why? Need me to do something for you while you’re gone?” Pebbles asked.
“Nah, I’m good.”
Griffin scratched at his goatee-covered chin during another awkward pause. There’s something on his mind, Pebbles thought. Something he’s brooding over. She sipped her coffee while he fiddled with his spoon, waiting for him to speak. Was it to do with Jennifer, she wondered. Or was he just bummed out about Nicky?
“Everything okay, Griffin?” she finally asked.
“Huh?”
“You seem…I don’t know…like you’re lost in thought.”
He nodded and let go of the spoon. “Yeah, sorry. I’m just trying to think of the right way to tell you. It’s about Jen.”
Pebbles’ heart fell. Oh my God! she thought. He’s breaking up with Jen! Reflexively, she raised a hand to cover her mouth.
Griffin glanced up at her timidly. “She wanted me to check the locks while I’m here. And to remind you to turn on the alarm, even during the day.”
Pebbles frowned for a moment, then broke out laughing. “You’re shitting me!”
“Like I said, she’s worried about you.”
“Holy crap! You scared me so bad. I thought you were going to say you two broke up!” she said, patting her chest to still her heart rate.
“What? No. No way. We’re good. Great, in fact,” he replied.
“Then why all the drama? You looked like you were going to choke on your words.”
“Well, don’t take it personal,” Griffin said with a relieved smile. “Jen said you might not take it too well.”
“Am I that bad?”
He shrugged. “Not to me. Jen said you get angry when she reminds you of stuff.”
“Oh, I’ll take it out on her later, you can count on that! But you’re in the clear. Messengers get a free pass.” With a dramatic arm wave, she said, “Go ahead, be my guest, feel free to check the locks.”
Ten minutes later, after finishing their coffee, Griffin verified the front door was locked and after he secured Pebbles’ promise to lock the kitchen door after his departure, they exchanged a friendly hug and he left. As she closed the door, she shouted out, “Mahalo! Safe travels.”
He walked away without looking back, fist raised above his head with thumb and pinky extended, Hawaiian for “hang loose.”
Pebbles shut the door and dutifully turned the lock. She picked up her cell phone from the table and snapped a quick picture of the locked door, which she then texted to Jennifer. The accompanying caption read, “Happy, mother?”
While cleaning up the kitchen, Pebbles received Jennifer’s reply. “I won’t be happy til you and Malinyah safely arrive in NYC.”
Jennifer had not been thrilled when she learned of Foucault’s request to bring Malinyah to New York. In fact, Jennifer had made it clear to Pebbles and Anlon that she viewed the request as a ploy by Foucault to take the Stone. Given his status as a suspect in Anabel’s murder, Jennifer had argued, it was better to keep the Sinethal under lock and key. To support her point, she had itemized Foucault’s deceitful actions at Indio Maiz.
“Let it go, woman!” Pebbles texted back on her way upstairs to shower and dress. Antonio was due to arrive around midday with Malinyah’s Sinethal. As she walked through the master bedroom she slid out of her robe. After turning on the shower, she leaned against the bathroom counter and whisked off her pajamas and socks. She stuck a tentative hand in the spray from the showerhead, shivered and stepped in. The glass door was almost closed when she heard the doorbell chime echo from the hallway.
Pebbles stood motionless for a moment and debated whether to answer the door. It might be Griffin, she thought. He might have forgotten to bestow another caution from Jennifer. Or it might be Antonio, arriving earlier than planned. She stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her torso just as the chime pealed again. She mumbled, “Gah! Hold your horses.”
She padded to the guest bedroom that overlooked the front of the house. As soon as she neared the window, she spotted the large brown truck in the driveway. It was Reggie, their UPS deliveryman. Holding the towel in place with one hand, Pebbles cranked open the casement window and called down. “Hey there, Reggie.”
Reggie appeared from beneath the covered doorstep and looked up. “Oh, hi, Pebbles. Sorry to disturb you. Got a few packages for the good doctor.”
“Just leave them on the step, please. I’ll get them later,” she said.
“Okay, no problem,” he said, waving his hand. “Have a good one!”
“Thanks, Reggie. You too! See you soon.”
Covered in goosebumps, she quickly cranked the window shut and wound her way back to the master bath and the now-steaming shower. She unclamped the towel from beneath her arm and let it drop to the marble floor. Her cell phone, resting on the bathroom counter, sounded out with a xylophone ringtone. Pebbles retrieved the phone and looked at the lock screen. It was a text from Jennifer. “Send me a pic of the alarm key pad with the red light on. Then I’ll be happy!”
“Haha,” Pebbles replied before placing the phone back on the counter and sliding into the shower. While she stood with her head and neck bowed under the jet of hot water, the xylophone tone sounded out again. Jennifer had sent another text. It read, “Not joking!”
It was noon before Pebbles picked up her phone again. Dressed in a fresh pair of leggings and an oversized sweater, she stood before the bathroom mirror applying the finishing touches to the spiked upward swoosh of her purple bangs. When the xylophone trilled again, she lifted the phone and saw two message notifications on the lock screen: the earlier text from Jennifer and a new one from Antonio.
She read Antonio’s first. “Delayed. Won’t be there til 2. Sorry.”
“No prob. See u then,” she answered.
When she opened Jennifer’s text,
she laughed. Lowering the phone to the counter without a reply, she looked at her reflection in the mirror and mumbled, “Geez, Louise. I hope Griffin knows what he’s getting into.”
Satisfied with her hair, she draped Malinyah’s necklace over her head and rested the medallion on her chest. As she turned to leave the bathroom, the door chime rang. Pebbles retraced a path to the guest bedroom and looked out the window. In the driveway was an idling sedan with a car topper sign for Benny’s, a pizza delivery service in nearby Seal Beach. She hadn’t ordered any pizza, and Benny’s wasn’t a pizza place they frequented. She rolled open the window a few inches and called out, “Hello?”
A cheery young man with a yellow Benny’s baseball cap appeared from beneath the stoop. In his hands he held a pizza box. “Hi, there. Got your pizza.”
“Um, think you’ve got the wrong address,” she said.
“This is 24 Lakeshore, right?”
“Yep.”
“Cully residence?”
“Yep, again.”
“Well, someone here ordered a large sausage pizza.”
“Don’t know what to tell you. I’m the only one here and I didn’t order anything. Sorry.”
The delivery man sighed and shook his head. “Well, that sucks.”
“Sorry!” she called out again as he descended the steps.
“No worries. Happens sometimes.” As he opened the car door, he turned back and said, “By the way, you’ve got packages at the door.”
“Oh, that’s right, I forgot,” she mumbled to herself. To the deliveryman, she called out, “Thank you!”
Pebbles wound the window closed and watched the man turn left out of Anlon’s driveway, heading back in the direction of Seal Beach. When he was out of sight, she headed downstairs to the main level of the lodge-style home and unlocked the front door.