True Bliss (31 page)

"That would be fine," Bliss said. "Great, in fact. I know this sounds ridiculous, but I've heard some really strange things around here lately."

Ballard nodded without raising his eyes. "I wouldn't be surprised. Ringing and what not, I suppose."

Bliss was amazed. "How did you guess? Did one of them tell you?"

"Maybe you should sit down, Ms. Winters. Perhaps this nice lady would get you some coffee." He indicated Venus who wound and unwound her wrists before her face while she slid her head sideways.

"I don't do coffee," Venus said. "Tell him to leave, Bliss. His aura is troubled. I can't relax around troubled auras."

Ballard pointed his pen at Bliss. "You've had a lot of stress, ma'am. People don't realize the trauma they can suffer when they've been at the scene of a sudden death."

"We've all had a shock," Sebastian said. "But I get the feeling we aren't talking about the same things here."

"The lady's holding her bell, sir," Ballard said. He cleared his throat. "I expect she just forgot. It was another missing item that I came about."

"This isn't the bell," Bliss and Sebastian said in unison.

"Too many bad auras," Venus said, raising her nose and looking from Ballard to Sebastian. "I believe I was wrong about this man, too. He's brought trouble here."

Bliss glared at her. "Isn't there something you could do to help Fab and Polly?"

"They've gone back to the bungalow."

Ballard shifted from one shiny shoe to the other. "I do need to get on here."

"So do I," Sebastian said coldly.

"This cheap bell was put where the Steuben used to be, just to throw me off," Bliss said. "So I wouldn't notice it had been taken."

"Worth a lot of money, is it?"

"Look," Sebastian said. "You're not getting it. This isn't about value. It's about bells ringing at odd times, and voices, and threats whispered in the dark."

Ballard tapped the end of his nose with his pen. "Is it? I see. We'll, I'd better make a note of that."

"You can look upstairs in my rooms," Bliss said, growing furious. "It's gone. It's smaller than this and much more ornate, and it's gone. It has a very high, clear sound, not like this." She gave the cheap glass a hard shake and produced a dull clatter.

"I need to take a look around the scene of the accident, ma'am," Ballard said, turning slightly pink. "I can get a warrant if you'd be more comfortable with that."

"I don't care—"

"Whoa," Sebastian said, cutting Bliss off. "I'm sure Bliss won't mind you looking at anything you want to look at. But I don't appreciate you treating her like a fool."

"I didn't treat her like a fool, sir."

Sebastian rolled his shoulders and Bliss could see him trying to relax. "It's okay," she told him. "Someone took my bell from beside my bed, Officer Ballard. And Vic Taylor and Liberty heard a bell outside Vic's cabin on the night before last. I think someone took it to frighten me with."

"Why do you think that, ma'am?"

"Because"—she blinked rapidly—"I don't know really."

The policeman sighed hugely. "Well, I'd better take a look at the room. Upstairs, you say?"

Bliss concurred and the officer lumbered up, his holster creaking.

"You two would not be a good match after all," Venus Crow said. "I advise you to banish him, Bliss."

"Oh, for God's sake." Sebastian held Bliss's elbow and propelled her upstairs behind Ballard. "I've got to get you away from here."

"I know about these things," Venus called. "I would never dance at a wedding unless I could be sure the coming together had been blessed in a higher place."

Sebastian's fingers dug into Bliss's arm and he turned back. "It has been blessed in a higher place," he told Venus. "Way above your head." With Bliss firmly in his grip he continued on to her room. "If she'd been up here last night she'd know just how blessed our coming together was—on several occasions."

She smiled a little, but sobered at the sight of Officer Ballard poking around her private domain. "The bell was beside the bed," she said shortly, and immediately regretted bringing attention to the tangled mess of sheets that trailed to the floor, and the pillows piled together against the headboard.

If Ballard considered the condition of the bed interesting, he hid his feelings well. "Steps up to the balcony, are there?" He went to the nearest French door and parted the drapes.

"Yes. They lead down to the kitchen gardens," Bliss told him.

"Locked," Ballard said, turning a handle. "You always keep them locked?"

"Since the first time."

Ballard cocked an enquiring brow.

Bliss said, "Since the first time I heard the bell and saw the face."

The man stared at her. "Someone was outside looking at you and ringing your bell?"

"No! Of course not. They were inside looking at me and ringing my bell. I was outside."

"Ah." Ballard made artful squiggles on his pad. "Did you think you might know the person?"

"She was wearing a mask."

"A mask? A woman?"

"I heard a woman's voice."

"I see. What did she say."

Bliss felt heat under her skin. "Oh, just some sort of silliness. I didn't really hear." She wasn't about to pull Sebastian's name into this.

"Hey!" Sebastian crossed the room in a few strides and pulled the drape back farther. He stooped and swept up a bell. "This is it, isn't it, Bliss? The Steuben?"

Feeling stupid, Bliss nodded. "Who would put it there? This is ... I don't like it, Sebastian."

"Well, ma'am, that seems to solve that."

"It does not," she said angrily. "Someone deliberately switched bells on me."

The notebook was replaced in its pocket. Ballard waved his pen. "Wouldn't be hard to do, would it? Not with so many to choose from."

Bliss followed the direction of his pointing pen to the high shelf that held Aunt Blanche's bell collection.

Ballard went from French door to French door, checking the locks. "Still locked. Were they unlocked two nights ago?"

"No."

"There's no sign of forced entry."

Bliss wished the man would go away, and she wished she'd never mentioned the stupid bell.

"I'd recommend you put the little bell back where it belongs and get the other one up where it came from"—Ballard pointed to a space on the end of the shelf—"I expect you're feeling a bit upset, ma'am."

"Annoyed would be more accurate."

"As you say." He looked at Sebastian. "We won't dwell on this, will we, sir. Sometimes people need a bit more attention, especially when they're unsettled."

"Are you saying you think I switched these bells to draw attention to myself?" Bliss said, sputtering.

Ballard was already on his way out of the room. "I'm not saying anything. Call the station if you hear any more odd ringings. It was something Mrs. Nose said that I wanted to look into this morning."

"What would that be?" Casting Bliss an apologetic smile, Sebastian jogged downstairs behind Ballard.

"The dead man's personal belongings. I'd like to take a look around the bluff and see if we missed anything."

"Lots of people have looked," Venus said dreamily. She hadn't left her station at the foot of the stairs. "Death always brings such legions of souls who want to keep watch with the departed."

"Venus," Bliss said sharply. "Whatever this new psychic twist is, drop it."

"You never understood these things. Greater understanding of the body brings greater understanding of the mind. Mr. Nose is out there still. I feel his sadness, his confusion. He had no time to prepare. The others come because they feel it too, only they don't understand that's why they come."

"They come because they're ghouls," Sebastian muttered. "This is private property and they won't be coming anymore."

He marched out with Ballard and immediately hopped as his bare feet met the gravel path. Bliss ran after him. "Get your shoes on."

"No need." He sidestepped to the muddy grass and cast a disgusted glare at his instantly filthy feet.

"Too bad if we've had a lot of activity," Ballard said. "Someone could have picked it up."

"Picked up what?" Sebastian asked.

Ballard marched ahead to the edge of the bluff and prowled

back and forth. "Makes you think," he said. "Hardly any distance. That's where he fell. Hardly any distance. Just caught his head wrong, poor devil."

Bliss hugged her ribs. "It's awful."

"What are you looking for?" Sebastian persisted with his trademark single-mindedness.

"We already know he was working for you, Mr. Plato. And he was here doing his job." Ballard peered down the shallow slope to the water. "His wife says he never went to work without them. There were two, y'see. One was in the car."

Bliss met Sebastian's exasperated gaze.

"Maybe the other one fell in the water and got swept away by the currents. Probably never find it."

"Find what?" Bliss asked.

"His other camera."

Twenty-one

Whatever it took, he would wrap Bliss so snugly inside his life, she'd never want to get out again. Sebastian stared ahead through the windshield at an afternoon turned to smudgy gray. His need for her only grew stronger, his need for her just as she was, without changing. He would never want her to become less of herself because she was part of him—and he was part of her.

She'd been very quiet since he'd persuaded her to leave Hole Point with him and go to Raptor for the first time. She had changed her clothes. Sitting beside him in the Ford with her hands folded in the lap of a long, loosely fitting denim dress, she looked remote.

If she wanted to talk she'd let him know. He knew he wanted her beside him for the rest of his life. He also knew he wanted to get his hands on whoever was trying to mix things up between them.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked.

"Absolutely certain."

Bliss bowed her head and her heavy, red-brown hair swept forward to hide her face. "Maryan isn't suddenly going to change her mind and love me."

He waited his turn at a fourway stop. "Maryan is a difficult woman. She's my sister, the only family I've got, but I don't wear blinders where she's concerned."

"She can make things difficult, can't she? If she doesn't approve of me?—and she doesn't."

"She can make things difficult for herself. But she's no fool and I don't think she'll do that. That's why I wanted to bring you in with me. It's time we started letting everyone get used to the idea that you and I are together."

He waited and got the silence he expected. Bliss wasn't ready to commit to him, not completely, not without a lot more explanation of what had driven him away from her in the first place.

"There haven't been many women in my life." He worked the muscles in his jaw, uncertain why he'd told her that, beyond feeling he had to.

She leaned away from him, rested her head on the window.

"Bliss—"

"Don't. Please don't say anything else right now."

How could he tell her all she needed to know, wanted to know, when there were parts of it that were still a puzzle to him?

"If the rain's going to keep up I'll have to put the canopy on for Beater."

"I like him." Still Bliss didn't look at him. "You always wanted a dog, didn't you? I remember you telling me you did."

Long ago and far away. Another planet. "Yeah. Beater Two is son of Beater One. His dad was mine, too. You'd never believe they were related. Beater One had some greyhound in the woodpile. Weirdest-looking dog you ever saw."

She laughed lightly. "Beater isn't exactly show material."

They were saying everything but what needed to be said. "Will you just say something along the lines of—I'll follow you anywhere, Sebastian? And, maybe—I trust you, Sebastian?"

"Please don't push me."

"I don't have any control over my mouth anymore." Absolutely true. "From the rotten day I left Seattle until the day I showed up on your doorstep, I was swimming through deep emotional water just to get back to you."

"And I was treading water," she told him with almost no inflection.

"How about I say I'll follow you anywhere?"

She laughed again. "You seem to be doing that already."

"And you hate it?" The rain grew heavier. "I'm sorry, Bliss. I knew I had no right to barge back in, but I'd held off till I couldn't hold off anymore. I could never shake you out of my mind."

"What if I had been married and had those ten children you mentioned."

"I'd have kidnapped you."

"Sure, you would."

"I don't want to think about it." He wanted to give thanks for finding her unattached and still caring about him. "You do still care about me, don't you?"

"I've told you I love you. If I had any sense, I wouldn't have told you, but I've never been good at protecting myself."

"You don't have to with me." He squeezed her hands in her lap. "Your fingers are cold. You're tense."

"You're taking me somewhere where they probably think I'm spearheading the enemy. I don't know what to expect."

"But you've agreed to come."

"You said you wouldn't go to the office unless I agreed to go with you."

He considered for a moment. "That's true. And from now on, I'm going to keep on hanging around until you give up and give me whatever I ask for."

"That's coercion."

"Uh-huh. Whatever it takes, Chilly."

Sebastian turned off Bellevue Way onto the street in front of his building and parked at the curb. He saw Beater—who made new homes with remarkable speed—leap from the back of the truck and shamble to the revolving glass doors.

By the time Sebastian had helped Bliss out, the dog had nosed the door into motion and sashayed into the lobby.

"He's incredible," Bliss said. "Smart as a fox."

"Smarter," Sebastian said, not without pride. "Would I choose a dumb dog—or a dumb anything?"

She stood quite still in the increasing downpour and looked upward. "This is yours?"

"Some of it. A lot of it."

"Yes, well, it's impressive. Why don't I wait in the truck."

Sebastian stepped behind her, held her waist and marched her firmly toward the building and into the revolving door. He nodded to the doorman and headed to where Beater stood in front of the door to the private elevator.

Once inside the elevator, Bliss retired to a corner. Beater sat on Sebastian's feet and gazed up into his face. Bliss was right, he'd wanted dogs all the years he'd been growing up. Now he couldn't imagine life without one.

A slight, cushioned bump heralded their arrival on the top floor, and the doors slid smoothly open. Sebastian offered Bliss his hand and she took it reluctantly. Rain had dampened the shoulders of her dress and wetted her hair. As they got off the elevator, Beater gave a mighty shake and peppered them both with raindrops.

William wasn't at his desk and the first words Sebastian heard came from his office: "Get the sonuvabitch then! Find him and get him here or I'll tell them papers some things they never guessed about that whore-maker."

"I think I should return to my desk." This time it was William who spoke. "You can call me if—"

"Stay put," Ron York demanded. "We'll want you to explain to Sebastian that you're the one who made the mistake of letting this clown in here."

Bliss's death-grip told Sebastian all he needed to know about her reaction. She tugged, but he didn't let go. "Hang in here with me," he told her.

"We did right by you." Maryan's voice was unmistakable. "We paid what we didn't owe."

"You paid to keep me quiet. You and that bastard brother of yours never knew a moment's remorse for what you did. You bought me off and I shouldn't have let you do that."

"But you did let them," Ron York said, sounding pompous. "You took every penny Sebastian and Maryan gave you. Now you think you can get more. Forget it, old man. Take your sorry ass back to whatever hole you crawled out of, and die."

Pulling Bliss with him, Sebastian approached the door to his office. William, standing beside the desk, was the first to see Sebastian and Bliss. Sebastian motioned him to silence.

Jim Moore, Crystal's father, sat in the Z chair Nose had once occupied. Maryan and Ron flanked him. The three were too absorbed in their hate battle to notice Sebastian's arrival.

"He's somewhere around here," Jim Moore said, turning his haggard, gray face up to Ron. "Don't you tell me he isn't. I read it, see. In the papers. And I already talked to him. You were there. You're all against me."

Maryan fingered the collar of the old man's frayed brown shirt. "And I suppose your God sent you running over here to demand more payoff."

Bliss's grip on Sebastian's hand tightened. Her short fingernails dug into his skin. She'd have to know it all before they could have anything permanent together. Now was as good a time as any to let her start hearing how he'd made a mess of his private life. Better from Jim Moore's mouth than his own.

Even at a distance Sebastian saw Moore tremble. The man was a shrunken, fleshless version of what he'd been the last, the only time Sebastian had seen him.

With the pointed end of a pencil, Ron York made little jabs on top of Moore's stooped shoulder. "When a lady asks a question, a gentleman answers," he said, sending his next lead poke into the man's neck. "Who sent you here? God?"

"My Crystal," Moore muttered, straining away from the pencil point. "She was untouched when that boy took her."

"This is old," Maryan said, yawning theatrically. "And Crystal doesn't talk to you anymore. Crystal hates you, old man. If she hadn't been so scared of you she might not have gone looking for love somewhere else."

"God will strike you down!" Jim Moore's voice rose to a querulous rail. "All of you. That man defiled a pure girl. He twisted her mind and made her into a foul thing God turns his face from."

"My brother did very well by your daughter," Maryan said. "He married her and he paid you for the privilege."

"He paid me because he was afraid I'd let on how he raped my girl."

William stared directly at Sebastian.

Maryan's and Ron's eyes met over Moore's head.

"Wouldn't have done her much good if you'd done that when Sebastian was her husband, would it?" Maryan said.

Moore got unsteadily to his feet. "He says he ain't her husband no more," he shouted. "But he's still up to his tricks. Those loudmouth women came to my place. I know things they'd like to know, and maybe I'm going to tell 'em."

"What things would those be?" Sebastian said.

Moore, with Maryan and Ron, swung to look at him.

"What things would those be, Mr. Moore?" Sebastian repeated.

Jim Moore's watery eyes shifted between Sebastian and Bliss. "Who's that then?"

Sebastian ignored the question. "What do you think you could say that would hurt me?"

"The papers only hinted at what you were up to before you left all those years ago. I can tell them the truth. I can tell them you raped my girl and got her pregnant."

Sebastian released Bliss and strolled to stand in front of Moore with the chair between them. "And will you tell them you threatened to kill her if I didn't marry her? Will you say that as I began to build a name for myself, you arranged for us to pay what you called a pension to guarantee you wouldn't make things difficult for me?"

"I got nothing to lose anymore."

"Crystal remarried." He knew what Moore was going to say next. "Isn't she taking care of you?" He'd never felt the depth of loathing he felt for this man—except, perhaps, for his own adoptive father.

"Divorced him, too," Moore said. "Not that she could ever

be married again as long as the two of you are alive. Married to you for life, she is."

"We won't start that discussion."

Maryan went to the bar and poured vodka into a tall glass. "Tell the little fart to get lost, Seb. He can't do anything to us anymore."

She was probably right, but some shred of pity for Crystal made Sebastian ask, "What is it you want from me?"

"Money," Moore said. "Big money. Or I'll tell those women what they want to know. I'll tell 'em what they asked me about."

From the corner of his eye, Sebastian saw Bliss move for the first time since they'd come into the office. She took several rapid steps forward and Jim Moore's head snapped toward her.