Authors: Rhys Bowen
Evans to Betsy (7 page)
It must be costing them a bomb to run this place,
Evan thought.
All these experts to pay and buildings to maintain
. “So do a lot of people take advantage of getting their bodies and spirits soothed here?” he asked.
Evan thought.
All these experts to pay and buildings to maintain
. “So do a lot of people take advantage of getting their bodies and spirits soothed here?” he asked.
Again a brief frown of annoyance. “We only opened last year. It takes a while to build up a reputation and of course we are only catering to the most exclusive kind of guest. But things are beginning to pick up. Now that it’s stopped bloody raining, that is.” They were descending a graceful flight of curved steps with a carved stone railing beside them—another part of the old estate, he guessed. A clear view of a sparkling estuary opened up in front of them. On the other side were sloping green hills. Down below them, at the bottom of the steps, was another cluster of outlandish buildings, built around a little beach of yellow sand. A large swimming pool was built out over part of the beach.
“It’s certainly a lovely spot,” he said.
She nodded appreciatively. “I’m very fond of it. I’d do anything to keep it.”
“It certainly keeps you fit, going up and down all these steps.”
As he said it, he realized this was rather a tactless remark, given Lady Annabel’s generous curves, but she smiled and didn’t seem to take offence.
As he said it, he realized this was rather a tactless remark, given Lady Annabel’s generous curves, but she smiled and didn’t seem to take offence.
“Actually I don’t come down here too much. This is the area of spiritual healing and meditation. Spiritual healers are very touchy about being disturbed.”
Evan blinked as he noticed a strange object among the buildings, dazzlingly bright with reflected sunlight.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“That is our pyramid. A center of great healing energy.”
Now Evan could see that it was, indeed, a pyramid, about the size of a small room, and made completely from beaten copper, decorated with Celtic knots.
“Copper is a wonderful conductor,” Annabel said.
“Do you hold some kind of ceremony in it?” Evan asked. It was rather small, even for a chapel.
“Oh, no. You don’t need a ceremony in a pyramid. You just are in a pyramid.”
As Evan still looked confused, she went on. “You sit and let the energy of the crystals do its healing.”
Evan forced himself not to smile. He was tempted to ask how many rich nutters were willing to pay big money to sit in a copper pyramid, but he thought better of it. Obviously Lady Annabel believed in this kind of stuff. Who knew—maybe it worked.
“Our meditation center is in here,” she said and opened the door to a wonderful round room, with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the sea. Some of the windows were open and from outside came the cry of seagulls and the gentle hiss and slap of waves. The floor was polished wood but there were Persian rugs and large silk pillows strewn around.
“Very nice,” Evan said.
“This is our contemplation room. We use it for group meditation. We also have smaller, more intimate rooms for past-life regression, guided imagery, psychic readings. I’ll see if Rhiannon is available.”
“Did somebody want me?” The voice was low and melodious.
Evan stared at the woman who had emerged from the shadowy hallway. He couldn’t have been more surprised. He was expecting flowing robes and large amulets. Instead, Rhiannon was wearing jeans and a black polo-neck sweater. It was hard to judge her exact age, but she had sensible, cropped gray hair and a face that had a weathered look of a life in the open air. Her figure, however, was as trim as a teenager’s and stood in sharp contrast to Lady Annabel’s flowing excess.
Evan stared at the woman who had emerged from the shadowy hallway. He couldn’t have been more surprised. He was expecting flowing robes and large amulets. Instead, Rhiannon was wearing jeans and a black polo-neck sweater. It was hard to judge her exact age, but she had sensible, cropped gray hair and a face that had a weathered look of a life in the open air. Her figure, however, was as trim as a teenager’s and stood in sharp contrast to Lady Annabel’s flowing excess.
“Oh, Rhiannon, there you are. Splendid. I’ve brought someone to see you.”
Rhiannon’s eyes held Evan’s. The power of her stare quite unnerved him. “Have you come to join us?” she asked. “You’ve felt us calling you?”
“Er—no, I’m on police business, actually,” Evan mumbled, and felt himself blushing.
“The constable is looking for a missing girl,” Annabel said. “American college student. It seems she might have been interested in Druids.”
“Really?” Rhiannon looked amused. “A lot of Americans are drawn to us, it seems—which is understandable as so many Americans have Celtic ancestors—and so many of them seem to be searching for a spiritual purpose to their lives,” she added.
Evan took out the flyer. “Lady Annabel thinks that the girl has never stayed here, but I understand that you hold ceremonies outside of this place. Is it possible that you’ve seen this girl at any of them?”
Rhiannon studied the flyer very carefully. Then she handed it back. “No, I can safely say that this girl has not been to any of our ceremonies.”
“I’m sorry to have troubled you,” Evan said.
“Oh, no,” Rhiannon said. “You were summoned here.”
“I was?” He looked confused.
“You belong with us, you know. You are one of us, even if you try to deny it.”
Evan gave an embarrassed laugh. “Oh, I don’t think so. I was brought up strictly chapel.”
“I can tell a true Celt when I see one,” Rhiannon said. “The Celtic religion is in your veins, boy. Your ancestors were worshipping here before Christianity was even thought of. You should at least come to one of our ceremonies. May Day is not far-off. Do come. You’d be amazed at what you will feel.”
“Thanks, but … I don’t think this is my cup of tea,” Evan muttered. The woman’s intensity was unnerving.
“It’s not supposed to be a cup of tea,” she said. “If you want a cup of tea, you go to your chapel. If you want the energy of the universe, you come here.”
Evan shuffled his feet, wondering how he could make his escape without appearing too rude. “I—really ought to …”
“Just one minute.” Rhiannon held up her hand. “What do you know about Druids?”
“I’ve seen the eisteddfod,” Evan said. “They wear robes.”
Rhiannon sniffed. “Stage Druids,” she said. “Invented in the seventeenth century. Nothing to do with us or our religion. Promise me one thing.” She darted into the darkness of the hall again and reappeared holding a slim book in her hand. “This will explain who we are and what we do. I wrote it myself. Promise me that you will read it and bring it back to me.”
As she handed him the book, he felt a current of connection between them. He couldn’t tell if it was just the static in that thick carpet or if there was really an electric charge when the book touched his hand.
“All right. I’ll read it.” Anything to get away.
“I’ll be seeing you again soon,” Rhiannon said. “Very soon.”
Evan could feel her eyes watching him as he left the building.
“She’s an intense woman, isn’t she?” he asked Annabel.“A little too intense for her own good sometimes,” Annabel said. “Now I just have to find my husband and—oh, here he is now.”
A man was running up the steps from the beach. He was tanned, barefoot, wearing white pants and a flowing white shirt unbuttoned to his waist. His long blond hair blew out behind him like a halo.
“Hi, honey. What’s the problem?” he asked, pausing to give her a peck on the cheek. “I was off jogging but I got a feeling that something was wrong.” He looked inquiringly at Evan.
“The constable is looking for a missing girl,” Annabel said.
“Then you’ve come to the right place,” the man said smiling. He held out his hand. “Randy Wunderlich. I’ve located plenty of missing people in my career. What can you tell me about her?”
“The constable thinks she might have stayed here,” Annabel cut in before Evan could answer. “But I think we’ve established that she hasn’t.”
Randy put his fingers to his temples. “Wait a minute. As you were talking, I got something … something to do with water? Ocean? Across the ocean?” he asked.
“She’s from America,” Evan said.
“Ah. Okay. That’s a start. What do we have to go on? Do you
have anything belonging to the girl? Something I could touch when I go into a trance?”
have anything belonging to the girl? Something I could touch when I go into a trance?”
Evan thought that it was rather like giving a bloodhound an old sock to smell and a ridiculous picture of Randy, sniffing out a trail, sprang into his mind. “I’ve got this poster,” he said, holding it up. “The photo’s not very good, and I’m afraid I can’t tell you much. She was studying over here, at Oxford, and wrote to her parents saying she was heading for Wales. She hasn’t been heard from in over two months now.”
Randy barely glanced at the poster but put his fingers to his temples again. “I’m not picking up anything at the moment.”
“I’ve already told the constable that she hasn’t been here,” Annabel said. “And you’re probably not picking up anything because she’s gone back to America. ‘Ocean,’ you said. The girl is across the ocean.”
“Yeah. That could be it,” Randy said. “Sorry not to be more positive, Officer. I’ll keep on trying. If anything comes to me, I’ll be sure to let you know.” He looked at Annabel. “Did you want me, honey?”
“Yes, I did. We’re supposed to be meeting with Ben in—” she consulted her watch “—fifteen minutes. And you can’t see him dressed like that.”
“Just because he’s a stuffed shirt doesn’t mean that I have to be,” Randy said. “He’s an accountant. He’s supposed to look like that. I’m a psychic and a well-known personality. He has to take me or leave me.” He put an arm around her waist. “Come on. Race you up to the main house.”
As he pushed her forward, Evan heard her mutter, “Sometimes I wish you’d grow up, Randy.”
“But you married me for my youthful good looks,” he chuckled, “as well as for getting your head straightened out.”
Evan trailed behind them as they went up the steps. As they passed the spa building, Evan heard a shriek.
“Evan Evans—what are you doing here?”
Betsy and another girl were just emerging from the building with buckets and mops. They were both dressed in short green uniform
dresses with the oak tree logo of the Sacred Grove on the breast pockets.
dresses with the oak tree logo of the Sacred Grove on the breast pockets.
“Hello, Betsy,” Evan said.
Randy turned back. “Hey—you two know each other? That’s so cool.”
“He’s the constable in our village,” Betsy said, her face bright red with embarrassment.
“Great. Terrific. So you’ve heard that you might have a budding psychic living in your midst, have you, Constable?”
“Yes, I’ve heard all about it,” Evan said.
“The grad student who discovered her is very excited by her preliminary results. She’s asked me to test her on a more sophisticated level.” He smiled at Betsy. “So you’re all set for our session together this afternoon then, Betsy?” He gave Betsy a fake punch on the arm that was somehow very intimate.
“Oh, yes, sir,” Betsy mumbled. “I’ll be there, sir. And thank you for finding me a job here. It’s wonderful.”
“Glad you could join us,” Randy said. “The more positive vibrations there are around this place, the better. We’re going to make this place the psychic capital of the world, you see.”
“Come on, Randy. Ben will be waiting,” Annabel dragged at his arm.
Randy waved easily. “See you at four then. Don’t be late.”
“Thank you for coming, Constable.” Annabel turned to Evan. “I’m so sorry we couldn’t help you. And please excuse me if I don’t show you out. We have an important meeting with our accountant. The main gate is through that archway to your right. I’ll call Blaine to let him know you’re leaving.”
Then she and Randy hurried up the path. Betsy stood glaring at Evan, her hands on her hips.
“And just what are you doing here, I’d like to know?”
“Missing person report,” Evan said, waving the flyer at her. “I thought this might be a good place to check out.”
“Oh, yes, I believe that,” she said. “You came here to spy on me, didn’t you? Keeping an eye on me again.”
“No, Betsy, I swear …”
“When will you learn that I can take care of myself?” Betsy demanded. “I’m a big girl, you know. If you were my boyfriend, I could understand that you wanted to run my life for me. But you’re not, are you?”
“Betsy, I came here on official police business. But I’m glad to see you’ve come up in the world. You’ve traded a tray of glasses at Harry’s for a bucket and mop.”
Betsy tossed her curls defiantly. “That’s all you know about it. I’ve got the cushiest job here you could ever want. I have to help out in the dining room for lunch and dinner and apart from that all I have to do is to check on the spa—you know, making sure there are fresh towels. That kind of thing. I just decided to help Bethan with the cleaning because I’d got nothing else to do. So you can tell Harry that I’m very, very content in my new job. They pay me very well and they don’t work me to death.”
“I’m glad you’ve landed on your feet,” Evan said.
“I have to get back to cleaning the steam rooms,” the other girl said to Betsy in Welsh. “See you later, Betsy.”
“I’m coming, Bethan.” Betsy smiled sheepishly at Evan. “Sorry if I yelled at you just then. I thought you’d come to convince me to come home again. I’m really happy here. Honestly I am. I can’t imagine working at a lovelier place and they say all kinds of celebrities come here. I might meet someone famous!” Her eyes were shining. “Got to go then. See you around, Evan.”
She ran back into the spa building. Evan continued on up the path and through the archway to the main exit. Something wasn’t right here, he decided. The place seemed almost deserted and yet they’d hired Betsy to do very little work. If they had no customers, who paid all the staff it took to run this place?
Blaine was still unsmiling as he nodded to Evan and pressed the release button on the electronic gate.
Betsy found Bethan had gone into the steam room and was already wiping down the walls.
“Nice-looking bloke,” she said as Betsy put down her pail and took out a sponge. “Friend of yours, is he?”
“That’s right.”
“Dating, are you?”
“If I had my way, we would be,” Betsy said, giving the wall a savage scrub. “He seems to prefer the local schoolmarm, but I can’t think why. She never tries to make the best of herself, you know—no fashionable clothes, and no makeup, and her hair in a plait. Dull as ditchwater, if you ask me. What can he possibly see in her?”
“It’s always the way, isn’t it?” Bethan said. “The good-looking blokes always seem to go for the plain women. I have the same trouble myself.”
Betsy looked at Bethan’s large, cowlike face with its mournful brown eyes and said nothing.
“You know it’s a funny thing,” Bethan went on, wiping the last of the wall with a grand flourish, “but I think I’ve seen that girl before. You know—the one on the poster he was carrying.”
“You have—where?”
“She looks a lot like a girl who worked here earlier this year. She was only here for about a week, so I can’t say I got to know her, but it does look a lot like her.”
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