Blue Twilight (21 page)

“Go on,” I warned, clenching my hands.

“It’s somewhat like a fairy tale, don’t you think? A pretty little butterfly vanishes for years at a time only to miraculously reappear one day, even more enchanting and desirable than ever. The girls that stay here always love that story and beg me to tell it to them often. Especially those with scars. It seems to give them a feeling of hope. It’s like those children in the concentration camp that you were telling me
about. They seem to find themselves drawn to a creature that disappears inside its cocoon for a while and then emerges, no longer an ugly caterpillar but rather like the proverbial phoenix rising from the ashes.”

I found myself stymied, unable to come back with a snappy response. Simmons’s tale was sugary sweet on the surface. But my gut kept telling me that something was horribly wrong.

“Perhaps life will change for these girls as well,” Big Daddy continued. “They like to dream that they’ll fall asleep and wake up one day to discover they’re no longer flawed, but have turned into beautiful butterflies.”

“Except that never happens, does it?” I retorted, finally finding the right words. “Instead they spend their lives on a fruitless search, yearning for the impossible, only to end up feeling all the more empty and worthless. Even worse, they no longer have the love and support of their families to fall back on. Explain to me how that helps them in the long run.”

This time, it was Big Daddy who was at a loss for words.

“If you really care about the girls, you’ll let me take these photos,” I told him.

“Why? What do you plan to do with them?” Simmons asked, beginning to look alarmed.

“I intend to hand them over to the police. Some of their families are probably frantically searching for them. If so, they’ll be able to narrow their pursuit to here in San Francisco.”

“But those are the only mementos I have,” Big Daddy protested and tried to retrieve them.

I quickly pulled the photos out of his reach.

“No they’re not. You’ve still got the drawings,” I reminded him, matching the charcoals to a number of the snapshots in my hand.

I turned to leave, waiting until I’d reached the front door to nail Big Daddy with my final question.

“One last thing. Who is Horus?”

Let’s see him spread his wings and fly away from this one,
I thought, aware that I was probably looking at the crafty butterfly dealer, himself.

Simmons’s complexion grew ashen, and he swayed ever so slightly. My heart quickened, knowing that all I had to do was to tighten my net.

“Where did you hear that name?” he asked, sounding strangely out of breath.

“From the man who died shortly after telling me about you,” I revealed. “It seems someone called Horus is an important dealer in the butterfly trade. As a matter of fact, he lives in Northern California. My guess is in either San Francisco or Mendocino—or possibly both.”

Big Daddy nervously licked his lips, and another thought hit me. Could it be that Simmons had located an existent colony of Lotis blues and was siphoning them off, one at a time, to collectors?

“I take it you’ve been up to Mendocino then?” Big Daddy inquired, in a strained voice.

I nodded, choosing not to give too much information away; hoping that the man would trip up and hang himself.

“Then you’ve already seen Horus,” Simmons replied in barely a whisper.

My mind flew into action, trying to figure out who he was talking about. Did he mean Trepler? Or the homeless man on the headlands? How could Simmons possibly have known whom I’d met with anyway?

“Oh yeah? All right then, so who is he?” I asked, not supplying any names.

Simmons steadily held my gaze. “The winged statue holding the sickle.”

Great. First there’d been Big Sam. Now Simmons was
acting delusional. Had everybody in Northern California dropped one too many tabs of acid?

“Don’t screw with me, Carl. Not about this. I’ve already been handed that pile of crap. I may not yet know who Horus is, but I’m damn well certain there’s a lot more to it than that.”

“You’re right,” Big Daddy replied, his stare turning a bit too intense for my liking. “The statue involves a myth dealing with innocence and sin that leads to punishment in the netherworld. From that comes purification and rebirth, just like the butterflies, which are born twice.”

Okay. It was just about time to call in the men with the nets and straitjackets. Not for nothing was San Francisco known as America’s number-one destination for lunatics and freaks. Nurse Ratched would have had a field day with this guy.

I didn’t turn my back on the man as I edged closer to the door. Reaching behind, I placed my hand on the knob.

“If you were cognizant of Egyptian mythology, you’d already know the winged figure is Horus,” Big Daddy continued. “He’s the God of Time, though there are those of us who prefer to call him the Angel of Death.”

Big Daddy was turning out to be one more raging loony tune—or else, he was a damn good actor working hard to get me off his trail. In either case, it was clear that I’d get no more out of him right now.

“I’ll be in touch,” I advised, not waiting until he pulled out his Jason hockey mask and put it on.

Then I scurried out into the night.

It wasn’t until I was driving home that something else clicked in my mind. Simmons had never asked the name of the dealer that had betrayed him. Perhaps it was because he already knew.

The other thing eating at me was that Lily had been so
close by all this time. I felt in a race against the clock, though I wasn’t sure why. All I knew was that it was imperative that I find her quickly—particularly if Simmons were half as dangerous as I feared.

The girl’s image sprang to mind, her brown eyes filling with terror. Was it possible that Lily had tried to leave against Simmons’s wishes, and he was now holding her captive somewhere? If so, my visit might make Big Daddy paranoid enough to go over the edge. I grew nauseous at the thought of what could possibly happen to Rebecca.

Rebecca.

The name resonated inside me like a musical chord, and I realized what had just happened. Lily and Rebecca were starting to become one. A wave of dizziness swept over me as I broke into a cold sweat.

For chrissake, Porter. Take a few deep breaths and stop freaking out,
Mini-me chided.
Otherwise, you won’t be of much good to anyone.

Maybe so, but one thing was becoming increasingly clear. I had to find Lily. Otherwise, Rebecca would never be able to rest—and neither would I.

T
he
chi
mirrors on both sides of the street had called it quits for the night. They’d long been asleep by the time I pulled into the driveway. This had proven to be one incredibly frustrating day. I’d have gladly woven a silken cocoon, crawled inside, and folded myself up like a piece of origami until I’d shed my skin and morphed into someone wiser, smarter, and much more clever. For I was beginning to fear that I’d never find Lily alive.

Tony Baloney’s sheepskin rug lay on the ground looking sad and forlorn, having apparently been tossed from its basket and left outside. I carried it in with me so that the fog wouldn’t sneak up in the dark and spirit the rug away.

I placed it in front of Mei Rose’s door and skirted around the potted palm in the middle of the floor, hoping my landlady was correct and that it kept all the bad ghosts at bay. Then grabbing hold of the banister I dragged myself upstairs, trying hard to believe there was still hope for Lily, not wanting to think that I might have failed her.

I opened the door to find both Santou and Terri waiting for me inside.

“I thought you were coming straight home. Where in the hell have you been?” Santou anxiously questioned.

“Well, I was towed out of the woods for starters,” I began.

“We know that much, Rach. For God sakes, Jake’s been
trying to get hold of you. Only you haven’t answered your damn phone. We finally had to call the tow truck driver in order to learn you’d been found and that everything was all right,” Terri scolded.

Oy veh.
Now I knew things were bad. Even Terri was pissed at me.

“What did you do? Turn your cell phone off on purpose?” Santou accused.

There seemed no way out, but to tell the truth. “Yes, okay. I’m guilty as charged. But there’s a good reason for it.”

“There’d better be,” Terri advised. “Do you know how worried we’ve been?”

“I went to see Simmons and didn’t want the phone to ring and disturb our conversation.”

“See? I told you that’s what happened,” Jake said to Terri, his anger turning to excitement. “All right. So, what did you learn?”

I pulled Big Daddy’s photos from my purse, and spread them out before us like playing cards.

Santou let loose a low whistle. “Unbelievable. Don’t tell me. These are some of the runaways that Simmons has taken under his wing.”

“You’ve got it,” I confirmed.

“Ohmigod, and look! Every single one of them has a scar,” Terri added in astonishment.

Santou and I exchanged a wary glance without a word.

“There’s just one problem,” Jake commented after closely scrutinizing each snapshot.

“What’s that?”

“There’s no picture of Lily here.”

“You’re right, there isn’t. However, Simmons had some charcoal portraits at his place, one of which had to be her,” I revealed.

“Do you really think it was Lily?” Terri questioned.

I nodded. “Simmons said it was a girl by the name of Buffy Xander. I figure that’s a pseudonym, if ever there was one.”

“Good work, chère,” Jake confirmed with a grin.

“This is incredible!” Terri exclaimed. “Wait until Eric hears that you found her.”

“Not so fast. She’s not there anymore,” I disclosed. “Simmons says Lily found out we were searching for her and skedaddled from his place yesterday.”

“What? You’ve got to be kidding me,” Terri cried in dismay.

So keen was his disappointment that I felt even worse than before. I wondered if I could have somehow handled my initial meeting with Big Daddy a bit better. Had I tipped my hand too soon? Was I partially responsible for Lily’s latest vanishing act?

“What’s your take on the situation, chère?”

“I think Simmons is involved in her disappearance,” I replied, still keeping my worst fears to myself.

“Well, this is just great. So what do we do now?” Terri glumly inquired. “And what am I supposed to tell Eric?”

Each question fell like a ton of guilt on my soul.

For God’s sake, not every crisis in life is instantly solved and tied up with a nice, neat bow!
I nearly screamed.

Instead I took a deep breath, wanting no more than to curl up, close my eyes, and drift off into the Land of Nod, a place guaranteed to be filled with sweet dreams. Only I knew that wasn’t likely to happen. Rather, I’d be plagued by visions of Rebecca, Lily, and the courier who’d been mistakenly killed as me.

“Listen, I just discovered that Simmons also has a house in Mendocino. I’ve got to catch a few hours’ sleep. But after that, I plan to drive up there and search his place,” I revealed.

“And what do you expect to find? Lily sitting outside holding up a sign that says, ‘Here I am. Help me’?” Santou
scoffed. “Don’t be crazy. Simmons isn’t that stupid. He’s not going to make it easy. The best thing is to set up a stakeout and watch his every move. He’ll lead you to her, sooner or later.”

Later was exactly what I didn’t want, fearing it could prove to be fatal.

“I’ll take the first watch,” Terri immediately volunteered. “Just tell me what to do. Should I go and sit outside his house?”

I glanced at the clock. It was already past midnight. Something else was wrong. Terri wasn’t dressed up as Elvira.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working at the club tonight?” I asked.

Terri twirled a lock of his curly blonde wig and slowly rolled his eyes. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you yet. I was fired, Rach.”

“But you were only there one night. What happened?”

“I insulted some poor excuse for a werewolf, and he complained to the manager. Do you believe it? But it just so happens I was right. His costume smelled and looked like a ratty old bath mat. For chrissakes, it was stinking up the place.” Terri dismissed the incident with a wave of his hand. “It doesn’t matter anyway, because I came up with a fabulous new idea. I’m going to offer a gay-vampire walking tour of San Francisco. Just think about it. Can you imagine? I plan to hire hot tour guides that look like Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt.”

Actually, the idea didn’t sound half bad.

“Just tell me where this Big Daddy bad-ass lives, and I’ll take off like a bat in flight,” Terri enthusiastically offered.

He was so eager to help that I didn’t have the heart to refuse him.

“All right, but on one condition only: that I come with you.”

“Absolutely no way!”

A passerby would have thought that
I’d
been the offending party draped in a mildewed bath mat, based on his reaction.

Terri took one look at my expression and quickly tempered his response.

“This is really important to me, Rach. I care about Eric and the best way I can show it is to help bring his daughter back. Let me at least do one watch on my own so that it doesn’t look like I’m always tagging along just keeping you company. Besides, this Big Daddy guy knows who you are, while he’s never seen my face. He won’t be suspicious if I’m the one playing lookout.”

“Terri’s right about that, chère,” Santou agreed. “If Simmons gets a whiff of what’s going on, chances are that you’ll never find Lily.”

“What do you say, Rach? Please?” Terri pleaded.

I was so exhausted that I probably would have been of little use to him, anyway.

“Okay,” I agreed. “Take my Explorer. You can keep watch inside the vehicle.”

I gave him the keys, along with explicit directions to Big Daddy’s place.

“And bring your cell phone along,” Santou instructed.

“Don’t worry. Unlike Rach, I’ll actually turn mine on,” he teased.

“Very funny. Simmons should be easy to spot. He’s about six feet five inches tall, has a long brown beard, a ponytail, and is balding in front. He tends to wear jeans and a black leather jacket. Also, his apartment is on the second floor and faces the street,” I told Terri.

“Park on the opposite side and halfway down the block so that you’re not too obvious, but have an unobstructed view of both his window and the front door,” Jake added. “And buy yourself a cup of coffee so that you stay awake.”

“Hey, you’re talking to someone who’s always worked nights,” Terri breezily retorted.

“And call me if Simmons leaves the building,” I continued, not wanting to forget anything.

“Okay. What should I do if that happens?”

“Follow him and I’ll meet you wherever he ends up.”

I just hoped it wasn’t in Mendocino.

“Now you’re absolutely certain that you want to do this?” I questioned, trying hard not to sound overly concerned.

“You know, you’re really going to have to learn to delegate better, Rach. Otherwise, how will you ever handle things when you’re finally promoted and made a boss?” Terri lectured, while heading for the door.

Right. Like there was a chance in hell of
that
ever happening.

“I’ll grab a cab and join you as soon as I get some sleep,” I responded, following him to the top of the stairs.

Then I flew to the window and watched Terri drive off, feeling nervous as a mother hen.

“Don’t worry. He’ll be fine,” Santou assured me, as we undressed and got into bed.

Jake not only hogged all the covers but instantly fell asleep, annoying the hell out of me. I fully intend to hook up with an insomniac in my next life; someone who’ll be thoughtful enough to stay awake and keep me company.

I eventually dozed off, but it wasn’t to the gentle Land of Nod. Rather, Mister Softee’s music began to play in my head. I’d started to slip into my usual nightmare when a jarring sensation jerked me awake.

I lay perfectly still, unsure of what was going on, as a creaking sound slithered its way across the floor. Then the ground undulated in waves and the house began to shake, rattle, and roll. A second later, the furniture joined in, ac
companied by the windows, which shimmied and shook, adding a tremulous vibrato to the growing musical encore.

I tried to roll over and wake Santou, only to discover that I was no longer in my bed. Instead, I’d been netted, labeled, and pinned like a large butterfly to the wall. There I remained, unable to do anything at all as an earthquake roared into full force, ripping my world apart.

I opened my mouth and screamed as loud as I could, though I feared it wouldn’t do any good. This might very well be a dream. But what if I woke and it still didn’t end? Then I’d never again be safe but trapped inside my fears, forever the victim, always a target.

The quake slowly subsided, along with my shriek, until it was a mere tremor. Finally, even that diminished as I felt Santou’s breath tickle my ear, and his hand jostled my shoulder.

“Hey chère, you’re having a bad nightmare. Snap out of it,” he said, gently shaking me awake.

I sat bolt upright, propelled by the pounding of my heart. Turning on the light, I checked my palms for pinmarks. None were there. Then I glanced around the room, wanting to make certain that everything was in its proper place.

“What were you dreaming about? It sounded as if one helluva knock-down, drag-out fight was going on,” Santou quipped, brushing a lock of hair from my face.

I looked at him and knew I could tell Jake just about anything.

“Sometimes I get frightened, is all.”

“Frightened of what?” he asked, his profile icy-white in the moonlight.

I wrapped my arms around my knees and hugged them tight, trying to think of how best to explain it.

“It’s like when a closet door has been left ajar and the
room is dark. Anything could be lurking inside. The same goes for having to check under the bed or behind the shower curtain at night. That’s what I sometimes have to do with my mind. I can never get rid of this small, nagging fear that’s in my head. It becomes worse when I go to bed. Sometimes I dream I can hear the house settling. I’ll wake up, walk to the window, and look outside.”

“And what do you see?” Santou questioned, beginning to stroke my hair.

I shivered, envisioning it even now. “A face staring back at me. Only it’s no bogeyman, but a person who appears to be perfectly normal. Someone I’d probably never think to look at twice. That’s what truly frightens me. The idea of being fooled; of not recognizing who the really dangerous monsters are until it’s too late.”

“Those are nothing but shadows in your mind,” Santou consoled, pressing his lips to my forehead. “You’re just thinking about Simmons and Lily.”

And Rebecca,
I reflected, still beating myself up over her disappearance.

“You’re right. I’m afraid that I’m missing something. There’s got to be another piece to this puzzle that’s been overlooked.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret, chère.”

I gazed at him and held my breath.

“I’m just as scared as you are most of the time.”

“Yeah, right,” I scoffed.

“It’s true,” Santou confessed, with an embarrassed laugh. “Why else do you think I got hooked on all those pills? Everybody’s afraid of something in this world. The trick is to learn to put our demons to rest.”

Easier said than done
, I thought. My demons had a twenty-four-hour field day inside me.

“Speaking of which, we should try to catch some shut
eye. Otherwise, we’ll have to get up before you know it,” Santou advised, slipping his knees in behind mine.

Lily, Rebecca, and Simmons must have agreed. They finally lay down and went to sleep, allowing me to drift off once more, this time into a blessed state of dreamlessness.