I Will Fear No Evil Page 4

  “And that is...?”

  “Their first Halloween party.”

  “The twins?” he asked, feeling even more unclear on what was happening.

  “No. Geanie and Joseph.”

  He blinked at her for a moment and then everything finally clicked into place. “That’s right, you mentioned that they were throwing a costume party.”

  “Not just a costume party, their first party that they’re hosting as a married couple. First party. First costumes for the twins. We’ll be showing pictures for years. This is huge. And you have ignored me every time I’ve tried to figure out what couple costume we should put together.”

  “I’m sorry. I just haven’t known what to say.”

  “That’s no excuse. You should try to contribute to the conversation. At least listen to and comment on my suggestions.”

  “Fair enough. What costumes have you thought of?”

  “Remember that cotton candy girl who got trapped in The Zone a year or two ago and was chased all around by a serial killer? I was thinking we could do that.”

  “Serial killers are not my idea of a fun costume. Besides, too close to my job.”

  “Okay, something more historical, like Bonnie and Clyde.”

  Mark wrinkled his nose. “I’d really prefer not to be a bad guy.”

  She raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment.

  “Austin Powers and a Fembot.”

  “While I think you’d look smashing, let’s leave the spy stuff to Jeremiah. For all we know he’s going as James Bond and I wouldn’t want to compete with that.”

  “He is James Bond and there would be no competition,” Traci said tartly.

  Mark winced inwardly, but held his tongue.

  “Beauty and the Beast.”

  It was one of Traci’s favorite movies so he wasn’t terribly surprised by the suggestion. Still, he didn’t want to dress up like the Beast. After all, it had taken him months to get over feeling like a monster not that long ago. “The big head and fur suit would be too hot and I know you don’t think he’s nearly as attractive when he’s the prince,” he said.

  “True. Alright, you suggest something,” she said.

  “The Lone Ranger and Tonto?”

  “Only if I get to be the Lone Ranger. I don’t want to be your sidekick.”

  Mark sighed, deciding he’d get nowhere trying to argue that Tonto was a partner and not a sidekick. “Okay, Batman and Catwoman.”

  “If the Beast costume is going to be too hot, the Batman one would be, too.”

  She had him there.

  “So, you seem to be kicking around crime fighter type ideas,” she commented.

  “Yes. I’d like to go as a cop, but you already told me last time we went to a costume party that wasn’t going to happen.”

  “That’s right. Still, there’s got to be something…I’ve got it! Dick Tracy,” she said triumphantly.

  Mark actually liked that idea. “Then you could go as Breathless Mahoney.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Why not Tess Trueheart, his wife and one true love?”

  Mark allowed his eyes to drift downward a bit. “Because I don’t know how long you’re going to be this size, but I’d like to take advantage of it and show off.”

  She blinked and then turned red. “Are you talking about my chest?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She folded her arms over her chest with deliberate motions. “Tell you what, I’m the one named Traci. I’ll go as the detective and you can go as Breathless.”

  “Um, no. You’re not getting me into a dress.”

  “Wanna bet?” she asked, an edge to her voice.

  Mark took a deep breath. “Sweetheart. I’m a guy, and I appreciate your current...enhancements...you can’t blame me for that. I’ve been dying to see what you’d look like in a slinky dress. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world and given that this is such an important party I want to make sure that you are the center of attention because you deserve to be.”

  He paused, hoping that what he’d said was the right thing. He watched her face closely for a sign of what she was thinking. Slowly the corners of her mouth began to turn up and he felt a flare of hope that this conversation might have a happy ending after all.

  “You think I’m the most beautiful woman in the world?”

  “Of course I do. I always have. And being a mother has given you even more of a radiance, a glow to you. You take my breath away.”

  She grinned. “And that’s exactly why you should be Breathless.”

  He groaned, but inwardly he was relieved. She was teasing now and that was a good thing.

  “Well, at least we know one of us will be Dick Tracy and the other of us will be either a femme fatale or a true blue heroine.”

  “That works.”

  Traci’s smile slowly vanished and he braced himself as he wondered what was coming next.

  “Are you okay? You look pale,” she said.

  He shook his head slowly. “It’s been a rough day.”

  “How rough?”

  “One of the worst.”

  Suddenly her face was filled with sympathy and she threw her arms around him. “I’m sorry, Sweetie,” she said, her voice a little choked up. Her emotions really were close to the surface these days and they could change in the blink of an eye. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “I think I need to, but I don’t want you to have to hear about it.”

  “Nonsense, that’s part of my job. Hello, cop’s wife.” She pulled away and gave him a big smile. “Why don’t we eat dinner and you can tell me all about it?”

  “Okay.”

  He walked over and sat down at the kitchen table and it took all his willpower not to just put his head down on the table and fall asleep. Today was a day he was eager to be done with.

  Traci pulled two plates out of the oven where she’d been keeping them warm. He frowned. It must be later than he’d thought.

  “How are the kids?”

  “Asleep.”

  “What?”

  She gave him a pitying look as she set the plates down on the table. “It’s after eight,” she said.

  He groaned. “No wonder I feel like I’m going to die.”

  “If it’s any consolation, you look like you already did.”

  “Thanks,” he said, too weary to even put the sarcasm into his voice.

  She set two glasses of water down on the table before joining him. “So, what happened to you today?”

  “The facts or what I’m worried is the answer?”

  “What you’re worried about first. Facts later.”

  “I think some sort of coven performed a ritual involving human sacrifice.”

  “What?” Traci asked, eyes bulging. She had picked up her water glass and she held it in mid-air, forgetting to bring it to her lips, as she stared at him. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “I wish I was.”

  “Okay. I think I’m going to need the facts now.”

  Despite his best intentions Mark found himself describing the scene for her in detail. It was like it was burned into his memory and he couldn’t stop himself from revealing all the horror to her. When he got to the part about Cindy looking like she’d been pushed down the stairs Traci actually gasped and jerked. The water from the glass she was still holding sloshed on her hand and she put it down, but didn’t bother to try and clean up.

  When he finished she just stared at him for a moment before reaching over and taking his hands in hers. “I don’t want you going back there,” she said, her voice shaking.

  “I’m right there with you,” he said.

  “No, Mark, I’m serious. I’ve got a terrible feeling about all of this. Please, promise me you won’t go back to that house.”

  In all the years they’d been married, all the years he’d been a cop investigating dangerous people, she had never once looked at him like this. She had never begged him not to do something.

  “Trac
i, I can’t promise that. I’m probably going to have to go back at least once.”

  “Don’t, please,” she whispered. Tears shimmered in her eyes and a moment later began to roll down her cheeks.

  He stared at her in shock. He knew that the post-pregnancy hormones had made her more emotional, but this was something else. “Traci, it’s my job,” he said, at a loss as to what was going on with her.

  “I know. I just don’t want you to get killed over it.”

  “I’m not going to.”

  “You can’t promise me that, and you know it as well as I. I’m telling you, Mark, I have a really awful feeling about this. There’s something not right at work, and whatever it is, I don’t want it coming anywhere near you. I couldn’t stand to lose you. I couldn’t.”

  He could feel himself starting to choke up a bit. His exhaustion coupled with her raw emotion was bringing it on.

  “Traci, I’ve faced serial killers, and a lot of other scary things, and I’ve always been fine.”

  “Not this time. I can’t tell you how I know, I just know that getting involved in this is a mistake.”

  He lifted their hands and kissed hers. “Come on, this doesn’t sound like my Tess Trueheart. You should be telling me to go get the bad guys, that I’m smarter than they are and right will always win out.”

  “Maybe I am Breathless then, because no fight for justice is worth risking your life,” she countered.

  He took a deep breath. They needed to find a way to get past this so they could have some peace. “I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to avoid going back in that house. The crime scene guys took a ton of pictures and that should be enough. Besides, I’ll never forget the things I saw in there. Not if I live to be a hundred. Okay?”

  After a moment she nodded. “Okay,” she whispered, licking her lips. She took her hands back and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Dinner’s getting cold.”

  Neither of them had eaten while he had been telling her about what had happened. “It’s fine,” he said, forcing a smile as he picked up a fork and dug into his stroganoff.

  The food was cold, but he didn’t want any more interruptions to dinner. He wolfed it down, noticing that she barely ate a bite. He wanted to urge her to eat, but he was afraid to say anything at that point to her that might reopen the conversation.

  He was almost done eating when the house phone rang, startling both of them. It was late for it to be any kind of good news. Traci jumped up from the table and grabbed it. His shoulders tensed up as he waited to hear who was on the other line.

  “Hey, Amber,” she said.

  Mark relaxed. Amber was Traci’s older sister. She and her husband were nice people. They had twins as well. It should have raised the red flag that it could be a possibility for him and Traci. As it turned out their own twins had been a surprise. Mark went back to finishing up his meal. His thoughts drifted to his nice soft bed and he couldn’t wait to turn in and put this day behind him. Tomorrow he could start fresh.

  “No, she doesn’t talk to me anymore, not since I tried to talk to her about her life choices,” Traci said.

  They had to be talking about their youngest sister, Lizzie, who had chosen a while back to be wiccan and had gradually grown more hostile in general and had eventually shut Traci out when she tried to reach out to her. Mark kept telling Traci that one day Lizzie would come out the other side and they could reconnect with her then. It wasn’t that he thought there was necessarily anything wrong with being wiccan, but it had been sold to him as a hippie type religion. Love people, heal the earth, do good, etc. Lizzie had definitely not been embracing the whole light and joy aspects last time he’d seen her.

  “What do you mean?” Traci asked, her voice taking on an edge that got his attention. Whatever was going on it seemed to involve Lizzie and it didn’t sound very good. Then again, Lizzie and trouble always had seemed to go hand-in-hand.

  “Are you sure? Well, what should we do?”

  Whatever was happening now sounded worse than usual. Mark knew he should care, but he’d gotten used to there being drama where Lizzie was concerned, and frankly he had a lot more to worry about.

  “Oh no! Do that. Of course I will. I can check with some of her friends. I know she always used to hang around a couple of places, I’ll check there, too. We might have to call the police.”

  Now Lizzie and her problems had his undivided attention.

  What’s going on? he mouthed to Traci who just shook her head slightly. She’d tell him later. Still, he got to his feet. He had the unsettling feeling that action was going to be called for the minute she got off the phone.

  “Okay, okay. Bye.”

  Traci hung up the phone and turned to look at him. The color had drained out of her face.

  “What’s happened?”

  “Lizzie hasn’t been in her apartment for a week. Her roommate called Amber because she’s getting worried.”

  Mark shook his head. “What are you saying?”

  “My sister is missing.”

  5

  After eating dinner Jeremiah decided to take Captain, his German Shepherd, to the park for a late night jog. He was keyed up from the day and needed to burn off some energy before he would have a chance at getting some sleep. After just a short car ride they were there, and Captain bounded excitedly next to him as he hit the jogging trail that ringed the park.

  As they ran he kept replaying the day’s events over in his mind. Mark had told him that it almost looked like Cindy had been pushed when she was on the stairs. They had both agreed that was impossible. Still, there were a lot of things that had happened that he didn’t have an instant explanation for and that made him uneasy.

  Off in the distance he saw flickering lights that seemed to be moving about. It was probably a group of bicyclists. Not wanting to be disturbed he turned and cut through the center of the park before picking up the jogging trail on the other side.

  Cindy’s allergy attack had scared him badly, and he realized he was still shaken up about it. Sometimes it seemed like his purpose in life, certainly the one that he clung to, was to keep her safe. How could he protect her from something like that, especially when the cause was unknown? He just hoped that when she went to the doctor they were able to discover the cause.

  Suddenly he could feel Captain tensing beside him. It was amazing how in sync he and the dog had become. Jeremiah glanced at him and saw that Captain’s ears were back and his teeth were bared. Jeremiah came to a halt and the dog pressed against his leg.

  Jeremiah reached down to stroke his head, noticing that the dog’s shoulder muscles were bunched tightly. A low rumbling came from his chest.

  “What is it, boy?” Jeremiah asked softly.

  Captain growled again.

  Jeremiah turned and took stock of their surroundings. They seemed to be alone in this section of the park and behind them he didn’t see the lights anymore. He reached out with his senses, trying to figure out what Captain was seeing or smelling that was making him uneasy. There was nothing, though, that he could tell.

  “Time to go,” Jeremiah said, angling across the park on the shortest route to the car. Captain kept pace with him, head swiveling constantly. They were almost there when the hair on the back of Jeremiah’s neck stood up suddenly.

  He stopped and turned quickly, half thinking there was someone behind him. Only darkness met his probing eyes, but the feeling of being watched intensified. Captain growled loudly and the sound ruptured the silence. The effect was to put Jeremiah even more on edge.

  He turned even though every instinct told him that he was turning his back to danger. There was nothing he could detect, though. He forced himself to make it the last little way to the car. Once inside he locked the doors and waited for a moment, half-expecting to see a figure emerge from the darkness.

  Nothing.

  And that unnerved him like few other things could.

  “I’m being paranoid,” he said out loud. He couldn�
��t make himself believe it, though. He knew, he felt in his gut, there was something lurking in the darkness that could see him even if he couldn’t see it.

  Mark was standing in the middle of his sister-in-law’s bedroom trying to figure out what he was doing there. Her roommate, Michelle, was standing in the doorway looking anxious.

  “It’s been a week since you’ve seen Lizzie?” he asked.

  She nodded, a lock of purple hair falling into her eyes.

  “And how long have you gone without seeing her before?”

  “Two, three days at the most.”

  There were no obvious signs of a struggle in the room. “Was there any suspicious activity, unlocked doors, tipped over furniture, strangers lurking around?”

  “Not that I’ve seen.”

  “So, what makes you think something happened to her and she’s just not on vacation or she met a new guy or something?” It was the politest way he could think to phrase it. He had volunteered to come over and check things out, although the look that Traci had given him before he left the house he had translated as “go over there or die”. Now that he was here he was both relieved and frustrated to discover that there really wasn’t anything to see.

  He opened her closet and saw clothes hanging in neat rows. “Does she have a suitcase she normally uses when she’s going to be away?”

  “I’m not sure,” Michelle admitted. “But she would have told me if she was going to be gone.”

  He closed the door and turned to look at her. “Were the two of you close?”

  He winced when he realized he had used the past tense, making it sound like Lizzie was dead. Too many years of interviewing friends and families of murder victims.

  “Not overly.”

  “Would she have told you if she was in some sort of trouble?”

  “I don’t know. I would hope so.”

  Mark nodded his head. The real answer was probably not. Most people got amazingly tight-lipped when they should be telling everyone that they thought they were in trouble.