Adelaide Confused (33 page)

My shin was still smarting
from the chipped, flaking tombstone that had tripped me. I felt for
it as I scrambled on my hands and knees, finding the top’s
bladelike edge that I had been lucky enough to avoid throughout the
fall. Gripping the sides, I pulled myself upright, attempting to
stand. The bulky Tibetan ring clinked against the old stone. And
suddenly I became aware of my hand, my fingers, and the rings, more
than one ring in particular.

Stumbling back down the
hill I hurried for the thread of light, feeling along my knuckles
in disbelief. I was rushing through the gate when a clinging thorn
bush snagged me back. I halted, hardly noticing. My whole attention
was riveted on the ring, Percy’s ring. My ring. It was
back.

The relief I felt was so
intense I was actually surprised by it. I even slumped forward a
bit, as if a great weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Yes,
I’d been worried. But apparently I’d been more worried than I let
on, even to myself.

With a small smile I
touched the milky bead. Baseball cap was long gone by now, but I
didn’t really care. One mystery was solved. The ring brought itself
back. It must be... magic. I stood there for a while thinking
through the implications, wondering if maybe witches and wizards
existed. I always knew J.K. Rowling was really onto something...
but even I had a hard time believing that far. All the gifts I knew
of were improvable—aura readers, card readers, etc.

I wrinkled my nose,
thoughts interrupted by something that smelled ghastly. The faint
whiff was steadily growing stronger. I turned, squinting into the
cemetery behind me and then through the gate toward my car. I took
a step for it, prepared to leave, but the thorns dug into my
T-shirt and hair. Impatiently I plucked at them, but was so
overcome by the smell that I had to stop and cover my
nose.

I heard it then, not a
noise from inside the cemetery, but outside, between me and my car.
A lumbering figure had come close, skirting along the fence, hidden
by the overgrowth. It moved directly into my path and I jerked
back, uncaring that the thorns dug deep before releasing
me.

From the sharp-edged
shoulders and overall shape I could tell he was wearing a suit,
even in the dim light where most details were lost. His smell was
indescribable, but it put me in mind of rotting meat.

With both hands pressed
over my mouth and nose, I stared in fear, my eyes continuing to
travel over his figure. They came to rest on his feet, though they
were hardly that anymore. My heart beat faster and my breathing
quickened at the sight, signs of an oncoming panic attack. This
time it would not result from the overwhelming emotions of others
or even my own terror, though I was afraid. The anxiety came from
the sheer wrongness of it all.

He wore no shoes, his feet, what was left of
them, were bare. Toes and sole were gone, indiscernible from the
meaty tatters of flesh that remained. There was no blood, not much,
but the frayed muscle and splintered bone were clearly visible.

I wanted to run away, to scream, to do
something, but the panic attack was going full force. It left me a
trembling wreck, certain of my own doom. I could do nothing but
shake as the thing shuffled near, drawing in one endless breath,
the sound a wheezing dry rattle.

“
Booook,” he moaned,
expelling air to form one rasping word.

He’d turned slightly, the
angle allowing a bit of light to ring the rim of his face. It was a
horrendous sight, a thing of nightmares. His hair had no luster, it
was dull and thinning. Clumps had come loose, the scalp shining
through in patches. Unnatural and sallow skin, both bloated and
sagging, covered his face, looking puffy around the eyes. Red flesh
from inside the socket hung loose, no longer cupping the eyeball
which was dark and sunken.

It was a face void of all
expression, a man with no emotion. A lifeless, dead
thing.

“
Booooooook,” it repeated
more forcefully, taking my shoulders with two clumsy
hands.

I whimpered, or maybe gagged, recoiling, my
head bent back from its rancid odor.

It shook me like a ragdoll
with strength I couldn’t comprehend, uttering the same garbled
word.

My head snapped back and
forth as he jerked me around, steely fingers biting into my skin. I
screamed.

I wasn’t sure how long it
took for Smith to respond, but he came, a blur streaking from the
street. He tried to pull me from the thing’s grip, but even he
could not wrest me away.

Not giving up, Smith ducked
between, wedging himself to separate us. He braced his arm across
my chest while jamming an elbow into the monster’s gut. I gasped as
the thing only gripped tighter, refusing to let go. Smith’s hand
flattened more firmly over my collar bone, a comforting gesture,
though it seemed to sap me of my strength, leaving me weak and
tired. He then reached for the thing’s wrist, wrenching it back at
a sharp angle. I heard it snap, a loud popping noise.

Released, I fell to the
ground, so tired I could barely move out of the way. Around me they
fought, two grappling figures in the dark. Smith made no noise as
he pitted himself against it, the only sound their scuffling. I
heard something else break, a deep cracking noise this time. I was
terrified Smith was hurt, even as I wondered if ghosts had bones to
break. But it wasn’t him. He was standing over the thing, movements
much more animated and easy to recognize.

My only thought was to get
away. I struggled to stand, failing completely. Smith hauled me
upright by my armpits, making me feel small next to his tall,
skinny frame. Together we made it to my car. Smith sifted into the
backseat without bothering to open a door, though he’d been solid
throughout the entire episode. I guess he was tired too.

I could barely get the key
into the ignition my fingers shook so bad. My body always felt
wrecked after a panic attack, but this level of fatigue and
exhaustion was irregular. I wanted to go home and sleep for an
eternity, but I couldn’t. I’d just encountered a... I didn’t want
to think of that now. But whatever it was, it had asked for the
book.

It was always about that
damned diary.

I couldn’t handle that
thing on my own. Reed would have to be informed, and I sure as hell
wasn’t going to wait to use the telephone.

It took me less than twenty
minutes to reach Raindrop Road, but then it took another twenty
just to get through Reed’s security. I pulled up to the gatehouse,
recognizing the prick who’d hassled me last time. He recognized me
too, I could feel the moment recollection sparked, it was followed
by a twinge of annoyance. I guess he didn’t like me
either.

The ensuing experience was
not pleasant. Obviously I lost it when he asked for my driver’s
license again. I mean, I
knew
he knew me. And when I was done muttering, the
dirtbag informed me I wouldn’t be admitted inside. Mr. Wallace only
met with invited visitors. I might return when I had an
appointment. His words, not mine.

Well I didn’t
leave.

And though I would have
liked to, I never yelled. Instead I articulately enunciated each
word, speaking slowly as if to a very dim child. I lied about being
Reed’s girlfriend again too. Tired and cranky, I would have said
anything. The guard, disliking my treatment, chose not to believe
me. But he called someone anyway, and told me to wait.

I waited, and then I waited
some more. Even Smith who had nothing but time to spare grew bored
and left.

The guard stood next to my
car, doing his best to remain professional by wearing a stony,
noncommittal expression. I hated it, I hated everything about him.
I hated how his tubby figure moved in the unflattering generic
uniform. And I couldn’t stand his ruddy complexion. I’d completed a
thorough list of everything that was wrong with the security guard
by the time his boss arrived.

A small, trim man drove up
in what I can only describe as a glorified golf cart. He hopped off
in a sprite-like fashion, limber for someone with so much gray in
his mustache. “What seems to be the problem?” he asked.

I was past being gracious.
“This jerkoff won’t let me in,” I griped.

“
That’s his job,” he
replied calmly.

“
It won’t be for long if
you don’t let me through,” I threatened.

Tubby handed him a copy of
my driver’s license. “Just another phone call,” he said while
looking it over, “and we’ll get you squared away.”

The boss (and I knew he
must be because he didn’t wear the tacky imitation suit of a
security guard) murmured so softly into the phone that I couldn’t
hear what he was saying even though the gatehouse door was open.
But I could hear the sharp female reply as it came shrilling
through the earpiece.

I didn’t hesitate to get
out my car and twist the phone loose from who I presumed was the
head of security. He let go, appearing unbothered by my
highhandedness.

“
Karen,” I said into the
phone, “if I don’t get inside that house within the next two
minutes, I’ll make sure Reed fires you.”

She scoffed, trying to
convey the unlikelihood of my threat. Truthfully, I didn’t believe
it much either. Reed seemed to harbor a tendre for his crazed
secretary. But after handing the phone back I could hear her
instructions. They didn’t want to let me in, but enter I would. And
that was that.

The boss introduced himself
as Mark, and he was, lo and behold, the head of security. He made
me leave my car behind, unwilling to take it through the gate. I
figured since they didn’t know the nature of my unexpected visit,
they were taking no chances. Bombs, anthrax, and all
that…

I had my first ride in a
golf cart as we sped down the long and winding driveway. He passed
the front door, taking us around the side where Marta waited,
disapproving as ever. I entered, brushing by her to find Karen
coming down the hall.

“
Ms. Graves, causing a stir
as always.” Her blonde hair was straight and chic, contrasting with
her blood-red button-down. She looked flashy, her appearance meant
to cause a splash.

She eyed me in return,
taking in the frayed jeans and T-shirt. After the recent fracas my
long hair was no doubt a rat’s nest. She managed not to sneer, but
only just.

“
I need to speak with
Reed.” And when she didn’t move to take me I gestured impatiently.
“Now.”

“
He’s in an important
meeting, not to be disturbed.” She took some pleasure in saying so,
enjoying the control she wielded. “You can wait and meet with him
after.”

“Sure,” I said, pretending to comply.

“
I’ll guide Ms. Graves from
here,” Karen said, addressing Mark dismissively.

I followed her clacking
heels into the bowels of the house. I was led to a large room,
double doors opened invitingly. Masculine leather chairs were
coupled with feminine settees and set fashionably in little
groupings. The walls were bedecked in mirrors and paintings, every
surface laced with antiques. It was a waiting room, just a bit more
ostentatious than my dentist’s.

“
Is that Reed’s office?” I
asked while pointing to an unobtrusive door nestled in the
wall.

“One of them, yes,” she answered primly.

I watched as Karen moved to
what must be her own desk, pulling open drawers and shuffling
things around. It was pathetic really. She wasn’t working so much
as trying to prove how much she knew, how comfortable she was here
in Reed’s home.

I toyed with the idea of
telling her I was pregnant with his baby and that I’d come to tell
him so. But it seemed a bit drastic for this particular situation,
so instead I said, “I’d like some water. Please.”

If I had been a business
mogul she would have already offered. But I was an interloper, and
my request was met with her outrage and overall hostility, feelings
so strong that I had to rub my forehead to keep the tension from
building. She stood very still behind her desk, unwilling to move
just yet. I stared her down until she said, “I’ll call for
Marta.”

“
You do that,” I replied,
intentionally glib.

I waited until her back was
turned before I marched over to Reed’s office, throwing the door
open. The sight inside was so unexpected that I stood dumbly in the
doorway for a moment, unsure what to say.

Reed had a woman with him,
in his arms to be exact. They sat on a loveseat, she a petit
creature tucked under his arm, his hands tangled in her hair. I’d
say it was a lovers’ embrace, but the situation was stranger than
that. They were not alone, though they didn’t know it a ghost
observed them from the corner.

The ghost’s image was weak,
flickering in and out. But I recognized him. Not an hour ago his
body had been shaking me like a baby’s rattle. More than confused,
I looked away before he knew I was watching.

“
Busy working, huh?” I
snapped at Reed, speaking with more bravado than I felt. “No time
for your girlfriend?” I added just to make things
awkward.