All the World (10 page)

Theodore opened his mouth to protest, but a knock on the door silenced him. Lawrence pushed him into a closet, and Lexie crawled under the priest’s desk.

“We’re ready, Father. Everyone is here.” Lexie recognized the voice of Mrs. Terrace.

“Thank you for informing me. I will be there momentarily.”

Lexie stood up too quickly, causing her head to spin. She grabbed the desk, knocking a candle lighter to the floor.
I shouldn’t have left the hospital!
Lexie closed her eyes and breathed in deeply before turning her attention to the two people in the office. Theodore embraced the priest before soundlessly slipping out of the room.

Lawrence ran his palm across his face as he turned to Lexie. “Giulia knew her parents would never stop searching for her if they thought she and Theo had simply run away. We decided to fake her death. The drug I gave Giulia will wear off very soon. I miscalculated the timing. The funeral was supposed to take place earlier in the day, but the Terraces requested that it be delayed. The drug can only be administered while she is awake.”

“So she might wake up during the funeral?”

He nodded. “The plan I made with Giulia was to keep her asleep through the funeral. I was then going to close the coffin and request that everyone file out of the church first. The excuse was that I needed to absolve Giulia of some final sins that she discussed with me before her death. With Father Jon guarding the door, I was going to get her out of the coffin and hide her before the pallbearers returned.”

Lexie frowned. “Can’t you still do that?”

“Her parents just asked for the coffin to remain open until she is buried. Right now, it looks like she’ll be put in the ground, and we’ll have to get her out after everyone is gone.”

“We can’t bury her alive!” argued Lexie. “She’ll wake up in a nightmare! And who knows how long people will stay at the church.”

Footsteps outside the door put an end to their conversation. Lexie heard the muffled voice of Mrs. Terrace once again requesting that the priest start the service.

Lawrence sighed and looked at Lexie. “I don’t have any other ideas. If you have a better one, then put it in motion. I’ll do my best to play along.”

Lexie was left staring through a long lancet window. The sky had darkened to inky blue. Butter-colored streaks highlighted the sky like candle flames in a dim room. Lexie thought back to the colors of the sunset. The vivid sheets of crimson and orange had resembled a raging wildfire. It was incredible that fire could be both beautiful and destructive.

That’s it!

She turned away from the window, her eyes seeking out the candle lighter on the floor beside Lawrence’s desk. Then she glanced over at the bottles of highly flammable liquid incense.
Fire will force everyone out of the church.

There was a ringing in Lexie’s ears as she picked up the lighter. She pressed the lever and watched the flame flicker. Was she really considering burning down a church? Lexie weighed the options in her mind. She could either allow the funeral to go on and have Giulia wake up during the service or cause a diversion with fire that would give her and the priest enough time to get Giulia out of the church.

I don’t have to burn down the church. The fire just needs to be large enough to cause an evacuation. I need people to see the flames.

She thought about catching the incense on fire in the foyer, but that wouldn’t work because people would have to exit through the doors closest to the coffin. Starting fire in the sanctuary was out of the question. Everyone would see her, and Lexie knew she would be arrested for arson before the moon was high in the sky.

              “We are gathered here today to bid farewell to Giulia Dawn Terrace, a spirited young lady who will be greatly missed,” Lawrence’s voice drifted upward from the sanctuary.

             
Everyone will see the balcony.

              Lexie grabbed a bottle of incense and crept out of the office. She dropped to her knees and crawled slowly onto the balcony, positioning herself behind a tapestry of angels. The bottle opened easily, and Lexie gagged. The incense smelled like a mixture of furniture polish and cheap floral perfume. She watched the liquid dribble down the tiled floor in small indigo streams. Lexie reached behind her for the lighter. Her hand was trembling so badly that it took Lexie several minutes to get a proper flame.

              “Here goes nothing,” Lexie muttered, lowering the lighter to the stream of incense.

              There was a soft whoosh as flames appeared. The incense had zigzagged on the balcony, pooling at the railing. The flames followed the course of the liquid, and shot upward when they reached the balcony’s edge. Lexie leapt up and stumbled backwards, tumbling into Lawrence’s office. She heard shrieks and shouts from the sanctuary.

              “Everyone please remain calm and exit through the foyer,” Lawrence ordered composedly.

              “My daughter! I have to get Giulia out!” shouted Mr. Terrace.

              Lexie heard a slight tremor in Lawrence’s voice. “I will see that she is safely removed from the church. You, however, need to leave for your own safety. Father Jon! Please help everyone out of the church.”

              Mr. Terrace was desperately shouting for Lawrence to get Giulia to safety as he left the sanctuary. When she heard no more voices, Lexie eased her way out of the office. She kept her back pressed against the wall until she reached a set of stairs that descended into the sanctuary.

              White smoke was drifting through the lower part of the church like a morning fog. Vernon Hills was tiny, and Lexie was certain that the fire department had already been called. She found Lawrence lifting Giulia out of the coffin.

              “Have the flames of Hell entered this church?” Lawrence asked as they moved toward a back exit.

              Lexie coughed. “It worked, didn’t it?”

              “What’s happening? Where am I?” Giulia’s voice was small and weary. A siren caused her to jerk violently.

              Lawrence squeezed her arm. “Everything is alright. We’re going to meet Theo.”

              “Where is he? Where is my love?” Giulia asked in a drowsy voice. “He hasn’t been caught has he? Where is the smoke coming from? I thought we were meeting Theo in the church nursery.”

              “Your plans had to change when the church caught on fire,” explained Lexie.

              “No, Theo hasn’t been caught,” Lawrence assured her as he and Lexie struggled through the sanctuary exit. “He was at the church for—”

              Giulia pushed Lawrence’s shoulders and gasped. “He was in the church?”

              “Yes, but before—”

              “Is he still there? Did the fire claim him?” Giulia’s voice became more hysterical with each word. “Put me down! I must go back! I’ll let the flames take me as well! I need my Theo!”

              “Theodore is waiting for you outside,” said Lexie as she put a calming hand on Giulia’s shoulder. “He’s hiding behind the dumpsters. Lawrence and I are taking you both to my apartment. You can stay there for a few hours while you decide where you want to go.”

              “Actually, I need to stay here and help Father Jon with this mess,” Lawrence told Lexie.

              That was obvious, and Lexie felt like a fool for overlooking that fact. “How can I get them to the apartment? I don’t have a car.”

              The priest carefully placed Giulia on her feet and fished around in his robes. He pulled out a car key and handed it to Lexie. “My car is the green Honda Civic parked next to the dumpsters. Don’t park in front of the Piazza Café because my car might be recognized. Park on Dover Circle. It’s a few streets down from the café.”

              “You’re alive!” Theodore shouted from within the dark shadows of the dumpsters. Lawrence shot him a dirty look, Lexie looked around for people, and Giulia bolted towards Theodore.

              The teenagers crashed together, wrapping around each other in such a tight embrace no one could doubt their love. A thousand whispered words passed between them as they clung together. Lexie exchanged a small smile with Lawrence.

So far so good.
Maybe Shakespeare’s lovers would have a happy ending.

              Lawrence and Lexie were forced to pry them apart so they could explain what was happening next.

              “Theo, I will text you when Giulia’s parents are about to leave. Go hide in my car and wait for me. Father Jon can give me a ride. We can then discuss what to do about your future,” finished Lawrence.

              Lexie sighed. She was pleased that she would only be responsible for Giulia and Theodore for a few hours. She had enough on her plate. Lexie wearily remembered that she needed to find Pierre, Nickolas, and Braedon. She also wondered if it would be a good idea to venture back to the hospital to check on Flora.

              “Okay, lovebirds, get in the car,” Lexie ordered.

Chapter Nine: Madness in Great Ones

              “There’s bread, peanut butter, hazelnut spread, and honey in the cabinet next to the stove for sandwiches. In the fridge, I have three kinds of jelly. I think there is some sliced deli chicken, but Flora might have finished it the other day,” Lexie explained to the teenagers as they climbed the stairs to the apartment.

              She looked over and rolled her eyes. Giulia and Theodore didn’t appear to have heard a single word. They were staring at each other with rapturous eyes and struggling to keep their hands over each other’s clothing, but they were newlyweds. What could she expect? They were probably more likely to eat each other than the food she had just offered.

              “Oh, I have a rule while you stay. No sex in my apartment,” Lexie said firmly. “Save it for when you’re safely hidden from your families and the police. Did you hear me? Giulia—”

              “We need to hurry, Lexie!”

              Pierre was hovering by the front door of the apartment. He shifted his weight restlessly as Lexie opened the door. Gesturing for Giulia and Theodore to enter, Lexie paused and waited for Pierre to explain. However, the man simply followed the teenagers into the apartment without another word. Lexie was pleased that the lovebirds sat down at the kitchen table whispering and holding hands. She led Pierre to the living room where they could talk privately.

              Lexie leaned against the wall, her head resting on a frame encasing John Williams Waterhouse’s painting
The Lady of Shalott
. She felt knives of guilt squirm in her chest and stomach as she glanced at the tragic woman in the painting. She reminded Lexie so much of Flora and her madness.

“What’s going on now? You guys left me at the hospital, and then I had to save Romeo and Juliet.”

              “Theodore Rose and Giulia Terrace, Shakespeare’s star-crossed lovers…very fitting,” murmured Pierre. “So, at least one tragedy will have a happy ending. Now, it’s time to stop another from unfolding.”

              “What’s happening?”

              “
Hamlet
,” Pierre stated, “and I fear this Shakespearian tragedy will not end well. Come! We must hurry to the Lindegaards’ home!”

              “I have to babysit Giulia and Theodore for Lawrence.”

              “If they want to save their love, they will stay in the apartment. The fate of the Lindegaard family is urgent!” insisted Pierre.

              “Let me change into something not covered in blood.”

              Lexie ran to her room and threw on a pair of jeans and an olive green shirt. As soon as she reentered the kitchen, Pierre grabbed Lexie’s hand and pulled her toward the door. Lexie got one last glimpse of Giulia and Theodore admiring their wedding bands before she was running down the steps and into Avon Road.

              “What happens if we don’t stop this?”

              “Think of the ending of
Hamlet.
Who lives? Who dies? You know the conclusion,” Pierre muttered desperately as he fumbled with his car keys. “People will die, many people! If this tragedy plays out, Flora will die! We can talk while I drive.”

              “Don’t talk like that! Flora is in the psych ward, probably sedated!”

              Lexie threw herself into Pierre’s car. She ran a hand along her neck.
Hamlet
was one of Flora’s favorite plays, and Lexie had listened to her analyzing the famous story countless times. Of course she knew how it ended. And if the Lindegaards were a representation of the Danish royals, every member of the Lindegaard family would be dead. This also explained Flora’s behavior. She was Ophelia.

              “So,” began Lexie hesitantly, “all of them could die, including Flora?”

              Pierre nodded. “I’m afraid so. As sad as this sounds,
Hamlet
is a fitting story for the Lindegaard family. You know the scandals better than I. It’s quite possible that we will discover that Dr. Lindegaard murdered his own brother.”

              “Nickolas said something about his father being murdered. I thought he was talking crazy.”

              “People started whispering about foul play when Dr. Lindegaard married his brother’s widow. Flora once told me that Nickolas was suspicious of his uncle, but I thought he was just being influenced by the rumors.”

              “Those rumors might be true,” Lexie sighed. “At least Flora can’t get to water.”

              Pierre swallowed and narrowed his eyes, a vein pulsing beneath the pale skin of his forehead. “We are dealing with an ancient and very powerful curse. A psychiatric ward won’t keep Flora safe for long. She is Ophelia. If we can’t stop the Lindegaards from killing each other, Flora will somehow drown.”

              Lexie glared. “You really are flowing with optimism! Maybe we should change tactics and focus on finding your key. Won’t everything stop when you find it?”

              “I have
no
idea where it is!” argued Pierre. “Who knows how many people will be dead by the time we find it. Do you really want—”

              “I get it! There’s no need to guilt trip me!”

              A cobalt Volvo was parked sloppily in the middle of the Lindegaards’ driveway, and the keys were on the ground beside a piece of paper. The front door to the manor was thrown wide open. Pierre parked behind the Volvo and hurried out of the car, Lexie right behind him.

              “Braedon might be able to help us,” Pierre muttered.

              “How? Isn’t he cursed too?”

              “Yes, but he is still Nickolas’s trusted friend just like Horatio is Hamlet’s closest confidant. Braedon has the ability to reason with Nickolas. I can try to deal with Phillip and Audrey if you talk to Nickolas and Braedon.”

              “Okay,” Lexie nodded as she bent and snatched up the piece of paper. A jolt went through her chest when she studied the paper. “Oh…”

              It was a picture of a smiling Flora taken on a bridge over a canal in Venice. She was dressed in dark jeans and a short-sleeved peasant top patterned with a russet and gold paisley print. Her hair was long and plaited into a fishtail braid draped over her shoulder. One hand was resting on the side of the bridge and the other was fiddling with the end of her braid.

              “That’s a lovely picture of Flora,” Pierre commented, hastily pulling Lexie in the direction of the manor.

              “Yeah. She told me Nickolas called her his bohemian beauty when she sent him this.”

              The sound of glass shattering put an end to Lexie’s musings. She broke into a run, wincing when Pierre accidently bumped into her left shoulder. Lexie knew she never should have left the hospital. After all this was over, she was going right back.

              “What have I done to make you scream such rude, terrible things to me? Are you drunk? Are you high? Phillip and I can get you help!” Audrey’s shrill voice echoed through the open French doors.

              “Are you truly so ignorant of your sins?” Nickolas shouted. “Are you so blind to your corrupt acts? And I am
not
drunk or high!” 

              Lexie and Pierre made it through the doors just as Nickolas smashed a crystal vase, sending glass and water in all directions. Audrey was gripping her face in terror, her numerous rings digging into her pale cheeks and her eyes were fixed on her son. Nickolas was shifting his weight between his feet and opening and closing his hands. His face was flushed and his grey eyes were as hard as flint.

              “Nickolas, you need to stop!” Lexie demanded, but she might as well have been talking to a deaf man.

              Nickolas halted before his mother, waving a framed photograph and piece of paper in her face. “Did my dad mean anything to you? You make marriage vows as false as gamblers’ oaths!”

              “Nickolas, honey, I can’t take it anymore!” cried Audrey. “Stop, please! Stop! Your words are like daggers!”

              “Look here, upon this picture, and on these, your wedding vows to my father! I see so much love in them. What happened? What made you suddenly decide that you married the wrong brother? What did my uncle offer you?”

              Audrey backed away, refusing to look at the picture. “I love Phillip!”

              Nickolas’s laugh was harsh, cruel, and frenetic. “Do you have eyes? You cannot call it love; for at your age the heyday in the blood is tame!”

              He lowered the picture and stared at the image of his parents. His hands were shaking, but his fingers were firmly clutched around the sapphire-embossed frame. Nickolas closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, and Lexie felt some of the tension leave her body.

He’s calming down. Maybe I can convince him to go stay with Flora.

              Moments later, Nickolas chucked the picture, missing his mother’s face by less than an inch. Audrey screamed as the frame shattered against the wall. Lexie stumbled backwards, landing on a cream-colored settee. The impact jarred her injured shoulder and she let out a strangled cry.

              “Nickolas, your uncle is driving up the road!”

              Lexie turned to see a disheveled Braedon standing in the doorway. Nickolas looked over at him, shook his head wildly, and turned back to his mother. “Uncle Phillip killed my dad! He killed your husband! And then you marry him!”

              Braedon took several steps forward. “I can’t stall him any longer. You have to talk to him now.”

              “Make him wait!” howled Nickolas before refocusing his attention on his mother. “Uncle Phillip poisoned Dad with cyanide! I have proof! He told me!”

              “Darling, what did Phillip tell you?” Audrey asked shakily, her face lined with terror and sorrow.

              “Nickolas, I need you to come with Lexie and me. Braedon, you should come too,” Pierre interjected. “We can all sit down and talk about what is going on. Lexie can give you an update on Flora.”

              “No!” Nickolas shouted, clawing at his ears. “Dad told me!”

              Lexie looked over at Pierre and was unsurprised to find that the man seemed to have expected Nickolas to say something about speaking with his dead father. Audrey, on the other hand, pressed her palms together as though she was about to pray and burst into tears.

              “Oh, my sweet, sweet Nickolas!” Audrey murmured from behind her fingers. “You’ve gone mad!”

              “I am
not
crazy! Braedon saw Dad’s spirit too! Tell her, Braedon! Tell her what we saw!”

              Braedon stared at his friend. “Nickolas…”

              “Braedon and I had just gotten back to Vernon Hills from D.C. the other night,” Nickolas barreled on. “We turned onto Crossroads Avenue and the car just died. Neither of us could get service on our phones to call for help. Then mist started rising from the ground.”

              Audrey was shaking her head and sobbing. “You thought the mist was your father! Grief can cause—”

              “It wasn’t the fog,” Braedon jumped in. “It really was him!”

              Nickolas nodded, spurred on by Braedon’s support. “Dad was standing in the middle of the road. He was even wearing his favorite leather jacket. Then he spoke to us about all of the evil deeds committed by Uncle Phillip.”

              “Your dad died,” Audrey said through sniffles. “I know you have always struggled with his death, but accusing Phillip of murder is not the way to grieve for him. Would you dishonor his memory by giving in to your fantasies? Honey, your father would
never
ask you to kill Phillip! Your uncle is a good man!”

              Nickolas’s fingers curled around a Venetian vase and he flung it at the ground near his mother’s feet. “Your mind is driven by lust!” 

             
He’s going to kill her if we don’t stop him!
Lexie felt the blood pounding in her ears and her heart thumping in her chest. It was a jagged, ungainly hammering that caused nausea to roil in her stomach. Her mind was lost in a sea of panic, making her lightheaded.
This has to stop! I need to sit down before I pass out! My shoulder is killing me! I can’t do this! Why did I leave the hospital? They’re going to put me in the psych ward with Flora!

              “Oh!” Lexie blinked. Her friend’s name was like a life vest in the chaotic waves of her mind. She had an idea, one that would possibly result in Nickolas turning all his rage on her. However, it would give Pierre a chance to get Audrey out of the house and more time for Braedon to deal with Dr. Lindegaard.

              Lexie, ignoring Pierre’s protests, moved to stand beside Audrey. Nickolas looked even worse from her new vantage point, and she was suddenly wondering if it would be better to call the police to restrain him.
Does he even recognize me?

              “Nickolas, it’s time to stop yelling at your mother,” Lexie said as calmly as she could.
I know how to deal with troubled patients. I just need to remember my training.