A Midsummer Eve's Nightmare (14 page)

Then the light of a car in the street behind them shone on his glasses. He tossed his lank hair out of his face. “Larry? What are you doing here?”

“Er, I was thirsty. Those lights get hot. Bar down the street’s about to close.” He turned and scampered away.

“Funny,” Richard observed as they moved on. “I had the feeling he was waiting for somebody.”

Elizabeth held tightly to Richard’s arm and they all but ran the remaining way to Tori’s apartment. Elizabeth’s throat burned and she gulped several deep breaths before she could get her questions out. “Have you heard from Erin? Is there any news?”

Tori was on her hands and knees putting away the last of the scattered books. She shook her head. “Not really. The police stopped by, said the neighbors hadn’t seen much that was helpful. They want me to call if I hear anything, of course.” She jumped to her feet. “Was Gregg there?”

“Yes, but now he’s here.” They heard Gregg’s familiar mellow voice before he appeared in the doorway. Tori flew into his arms with a cry of delight.

Mrs. Martin and her cats still dozed in the chair before the buzzing TV. Elizabeth signaled to Richard. She picked up the cats. He turned off the television before putting a supporting arm around the landlady. “Mrs. Martin,” he said. “Thanks for babysitting Tori. Want us to walk you home now?”

When Richard and Elizabeth returned a few minutes later, it didn’t appear that Gregg or Tori had even noticed that they had been gone. Elizabeth hesitated, but Richard, with his unflagging fortitude, carried forward. “Glad you’re here, Gregg. We need to talk.”

Gregg looked up and faced Richard squarely. “Yes, we do.” He spread his hands to indicate seats. They all sat, Tori very close to Gregg, but he didn’t touch her. “I want you to know that I didn’t lie to you in anything I told you about myself.”

Richard nodded. “I believe that. But you didn’t tell us everything.”

Gregg ran his hand through his curly blond hair. “Shame, fear of what you’d think, confusion—I don’t know. I don’t have any excuse, really. You won’t be surprised that the police wanted to talk to me about that old charge when I tell you it was for battery.”

Elizabeth gasped. So that was why he had fluffed Elbow’s line about a charge of battery. He probably hadn’t thought about it at all until the moment he delivered it just after being questioned.

“I’m not a wife-beater, no matter how bad it sounds. I’m not.” He caught his breath and started again.

“I was angry.” He ran his hand through his hair. “No, that doesn’t express it. I was in a rage. Drunk. Desperate. We were arguing. I don’t remember what about. Ellen yelled at me. I yelled back.

“We were in the kitchen. One cupboard door always hung open. I slammed it so hard it bounced back and hit her in the face.”

He closed his eyes against the memory. “Broken nose, black eye, blood. She looked awful. I begged her to forgive me, but she was hysterical. We both were.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know whether or not she ever believed it was an accident, but she pressed charges anyway and the judge believed her. I spent six months in compulsory counseling and doing public service on weekends.”

There was a long silence before he turned to Elizabeth. “So now you can add ‘police record’ to your list of objections to me as a brother-in-law. I don’t blame you. But I swear it was an accident. An accident I’ll regret all my life. God help me.”

“Was that a prayer?” Richard asked.

“I—I don’t know. I think it was. I’d like it to be.”

Richard nodded. “That’s enough, then.”

Tori slipped her arm through Gregg’s. Talk continued around Elizabeth, but her mind returned to the themes of earlier that evening: justice and mercy—the dual aspects of the nature of God.
Let it be his fault that dies, and not my brother,
Isabella had pleaded.

And Angelo had sneered at her.
Condemn the fault and not the actor of it! Why, every fault’s condemn’d ere it be done.
Only God could separate the sin from the sinner. And yet, weren’t we all called to do just that? Could she do that in looking at Gregg’s past as she thought of her sister’s future?

But before she could formulate an answer, a sobbing and banging outside made them all spring for the door. Richard reached it first and flung it open. Erin fell through the doorway. Had it not been for Richard’s quickly outstretched arm, she would have landed on the floor.

“Erin!” Tori flung her arms around her friend and drug her to the sofa where they both collapsed. “What happened?”

“Give her a minute, Tori,” Elizabeth advised as she went to the sink for a glass of water and a warm washcloth.

Erin’s clothes were torn, her hair wild, her face scratched. “I got away!’ She sobbed after Elizabeth had bathed her face.

“From whom?” Richard asked.

“I don’t know. He wore a ski mask.” Erin gulped the water Elizabeth gave her, then began shivering violently. Tori wrapped her in a blanket. Richard moved to call the police. Elizabeth went to the kitchen to make tea. Moments later she served a steaming mug laced with plenty of sugar to the trembling Erin.

Erin was somewhat more coherent by the time Lempson and Fellows arrived, but she still looked terrible. “I was on the sofa reading. There was a knock. I yelled ‘come in’ because I thought it was Dirk. I’d waited for hours and hours.” She broke into sobs again. Elizabeth thrust a box of tissues into her hands.

Erin dabbed at her eyes, blew her nose loudly, then continued. “Someone in jeans, a dark shirt and a ski mask came in. I screamed and jumped. I think I threw my book at him. He chased me all over the apartment—threw things at me—swore at me.”

Lempson interrupted. “Did you recognize the voice?”

“No, the mask muffled it. But definitely male. No doubt about that.” She put her hands over her face and shuddered. “It was awful—like a nightmare when you want to run and your legs won’t work. Only I did run. But the apartment was so small—around and round. I could never get to the door, and I was afraid to jump through the window.

“Then he grabbed me—” a new shudder shook her body before she held out her arm to display the torn sleeve of what had been a very pretty blue shirt that morning, “— and marched me out to his car.”

“Color? Make? License?” Lempson barked.

“Dark. Blue or black. No, dark—dark green, I think. Something little. Not too new. It was dirty.”

“Did you see the license?”

She shook her head.

“Did you try crying out?”

“He said he’d hurt me. Permanently. If I did. I might have anyway, though, if I’d seen anyone in the street. There wasn’t anyone. He took me up in the hills to an old abandoned shack or barn or something. He tied me up. He said if I was good there might be some food when he came back.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“He didn’t say, but I assumed it was to demand ransom.”

“Ransom? So it was for extortion?” Officer Fellows asked the questions that seemed to be on everyone’s minds.

“I guess so. Daddy and I fight, but he would pay to save my life.” She paused. “Of course he would.”

“The abductor didn’t assault you sexually?”

“No!”

“Okay. Sorry, Miss Wooton, but I had to ask. What then?”

“As soon as he left I started working on the rope. He tied it pretty tight, but it wasn’t really too thick. When I was alone I managed to back up to the wall. There was a nail sticking out of a board. I rubbed until the rope broke.” She held out her wrists. They were deeply scraped and still bore the marks of the ropes.

The policeman examined them. Then Elizabeth said, “I thought you’d want to see them just as they were. Is it all right if I put something on them now?”

Lempson nodded, and Elizabeth went to the medicine cabinet. “Can you lead us to the place he held you?” the officer asked as Elizabeth swabbed and bandaged Erin’s bleeding wrists.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I could try. I didn’t come down by any trail. That’s why my clothes are so snagged from branches and things. I was afraid he’d find me if I did.”

“Did you see which way he drove?”

She shook her head. “South. He went south out of town. Then he blindfolded me.”

“Seems like he thought of everything. And he didn’t seem at all familiar?” She shook her head.

“And there was only one? He didn’t seem to have an accomplice?” Again, Erin shook her head.

“Have you called your father?”

“No. Why should I?”

“To see if he’s received a ransom demand.”

“Oh. I didn’t think of that. Do I have to? We don’t get along very well.”

“We need to know if the kidnapper has contacted him. And he needs to know you’re safe.”

Erin’s call wakened a sleepy servant. No, he had taken all Mr. Wooton’s calls that afternoon and evening. There had been no threats against his daughter. No, no faxes or e-mail either. Certainly he would inform the police if they received anything in the mail or by delivery.

Erin insisted she didn’t need to see a doctor, so that seemed to be all that could be done that night. But Tori wasn’t satisfied. “No, you can’t go!” She faced Lempson. “Erin needs protection. He might come back.”

It was clear she was prepared to continue her demands, but it wasn’t necessary. Lempson had already moved to the phone to request that the dispatcher place a man outside the apartment for the night.

Elizabeth was troubled. She wasn’t confident a single guard was enough to unfold the evil she felt surrounding them. But she could see nothing else to do. And she so desperately wanted to go to the Bard’s Haven with Richard. It had been such a long day. She couldn’t even remember its beginning.

A dull pain throbbed behind her eyes. The knee she had fallen on yesterday ached. She longed to sleep peacefully for hours in Richard’s arms. But even awake her mind filled with dreamlike images of running down a wooded mountain with a masked man behind her. Then the man jumped out of the darkness at her, but he was only Larry. Then someone pushed her in front of a speeding car, but a falling makeup case deflected the car.

“Come, my love. You’re asleep on your feet.” Richard put his arm around her.

Chapter 19

“GOOD MORNING TO YOU, good morning to you, good morning to my wife, good morning to you.” Elizabeth opened one eye. A tall form stood beside the bed silhouetted by the sunlight shining through the lace curtains. The tall form bent to kiss her and in doing so very nearly dumped the breakfast tray he was carrying.

“Oh, Richard! That’s gorgeous!” She scooted up into a sitting position and took the tray from his hands. “Don’t you dare spill it.” She poured English Breakfast tea from the small silver pot, added milk, and handed one floral cup to Richard before she paused to smell the pink rosebud on the tray.

“Bless you for managing to be romantic even in the middle of all that’s happening. Can you believe I once feared life with you would be boring? Now I’d like nothing better than a little boredom.”

He leaned over and kissed her ear. “That’s funny. I never thought life with you would be boring.”

“You’re wonderful. And Ashland’s wonderful. And Shakespeare’s wonderful. In spite of all the distractions, I’ve learned so much—seen new things or remembered things I’d forgotten.”

“Like?”

“Well, I was thinking about how our experience this week proves again the universality of Shakespeare.”

Richard bit into a slice of crisp, buttery toast. “Such as?”

“Like the way the theme of each play was applicable to something I was thinking about, or needed to think about for all that’s going on with Erin and Tori. You know: The power of lies to make things seem what they’re not in
Othello
; the courage to overcome fear and opposition in
Henry
; ‘all that is so is not so’ in
Twelfth Night
; the importance of mercy and forgiveness in
Measure
. . .”

Richard nodded thoughtfully. “Amazing, isn’t it. Almost as if the plays were chosen on purpose.”

“No. That’s my point. That’s what’s so wonderful about Shakespeare. I think that any set of plays they might have chosen would have been the same—there would have been something in each one to suit any situation we happened to be in.”

Richard grinned. “Like reading the Bible.”

“Very nearly.” Elizabeth savored a bite of her tomato and green pepper omelet. “I wonder what
The Tempest
will say to me tonight?”

“Are Erin and Gregg in it?”

Elizabeth set down her teacup and picked up the program on her bedside table. “I know Gregg isn’t. He and Tori are coming to the performance.” She scanned a page. “Ah, yes, Erin is a dancing spirit. I remember now, she told us. And Tom, who played Feste, is Caliban. Hmm, don’t think we’ve seen the actress who plays Miranda in anything else.” She held the program out to Richard. “Attractive cast. I can’t wait to see it.
Tempest
is one of my favorites.”

Richard laughed. “You say that about them all. They’re all your favorites.”

She grinned. “Almost. Can’t say I care much for
Titus Andronicus
. I really embarrassed myself once by laughing out loud at what was supposed to be a very dramatic scene.” She took another sip of tea. “I do hate to have this week over so fast. And I don’t know what we’ll do if this whole thing isn’t solved. Besides any ‘don’t leave town’ requests from Sergeant Lempson, we can’t leave until we know Tori and Erin are safe.”

“It has been great in spite of everything, hasn’t it? But hardly the romantic retreat I wanted to bring you on.”

Elizabeth sat up straighter in bed. “Richard, I know what. Let’s make this an annual event. Let’s come here every year for our anniversary.”

“It’s a date.”

“I just hope we don’t have to help the police solve a murder and kidnapping next time. Not that I’m sure we’ve been much help. Other than insisting on the analysis that proved the high potassium chloride levels in Sally, I don’t feel like we’ve learned very much.”

Richard took the last piece of toast off the rack. “Where are we really? Who do you think is behind all this?”

Elizabeth wrinkled her forehead as she considered the possibilities. Richard leaned over and kissed the top furrow just below her hairline. “Richard, I’m concentrating.”