Airtight Case (31 page)

She was motionless, half kneeling on the floor, breathing hard, heart pounding, shaking with fear. Slowly, she stood and made her way to the door, grasping the frame for support.

Oh, God. What was that? Ghosts? Insanity?

She ran up the stairs to her room and closed the door. A suffocating darkness sucking the warmth from her body. Cold, dizzy, and sick, she collapsed on her bed, gasping for air, lost in utter panic with nothing to hold on to. She felt her memory slipping away.

Grasp something. Get back on the horse.
She barely heard her inner voice calling from a distance.
Hold on to something before you’re whisked away
. Hold on to what?
Some strong anchor, a strong root to who you are
.

She heard her father’s voice spring out of the darkness. The admonition that “
perhaps you can’t control what you feel, but you damn well can control your behavior.
”

On shaky legs she rose from the bed, feeling as if she had just run a marathon.

“This has to stop,” she said aloud.

This isn’t going to be my life.

She looked at her watch. Whatever kind of panic attack this was, it had lasted about five minutes. She looked out the window toward the site. The crew were still working. She couldn’t see the entire site, but she thought everyone was there.

Maybe she should just take a nap. Rest. She was so tired.

No. Rest later. Get back on the horse.

She looked around the room. Drew’s things. Her suitcase contained nothing but preppy-looking clothes and a couple of paperbacks. She flipped through them. Nothing. What did she expect? A secret message? Drew’s makeup case contained the expected personal items, nothing more.

She skipped Lewis’s room and went to the one that Marina, Kelsey, and Erin shared. Marina’s and Kelsey’s areas were tidy. Erin was a bit messy. Feeling less guilty—nothing like stark-raving fear to push guilt aside—she searched their luggage in the same manner she had the guys’. Nothing but clothes, books, stationery, makeup, perfume—normal stuff. In Kelsey’s she found a bottle of raspberry massage oil and felt her guilt coming back. What was she doing invading their privacy like this? She’d hate it if they did it to her.

The closet contained nothing but a couple of dresses on wire hangers. The top shelf was empty. Like the guys, they kept only the necessities in the house. She really needed to search the cars. Good luck trying to manage that, she told herself.

The storeroom door was locked. She wished she had acquired lock-picking skills. So far she had found nothing.

She had left the attic and basement for last—if she were caught, it would be much easier to give a plausible reason for being there than if she were caught in someone’s room. She went back in her room for a flashlight and stood a long moment at the foot of the stairs to the attic before ascending.

Go. You can’t spend the rest of your life with hallucinations, flashbacks, panic attacks, and looking over your shoulder
.

She forced her legs to carry her up the stairs and through the door. The attic was a large rectangular room situated over the mid-section of the house. Several doors led off the main room to storage areas where the slanted roof had reduced the useful headroom. The attic was completely empty, except for a brightly colored tropical-flowered curtain over the door to one of the storage rooms under the eave. She pulled back the curtain and revealed a mattress neatly made up with a white chenille bedspread.
Kelsey and Powell.
She smiled and dropped the curtain.

Out a front window of the attic she surveyed the site to see if the crew were still working. They were. She looked at her watch. They should be at it for another half hour. Probably longer if Lewis was there. He had a knack for getting overtime out of any crew.

Lindsay went down the stairs, heading straight for the basement. The door leading down to the basement was off the first-floor reception hall. She’d passed it many times but had never opened it, even to take a look. As she reached for the knob, her heart beat faster.

Now what? Calm down. It’s just the psychological reaction to the thought of entering a strange dark basement.

This was where Dillon had found Trent’s drug paraphernalia. Perhaps there were other things down there. She certainly hadn’t found anything in the rest of the house. She opened the door.

The stairs were the kind she hated. Why did builders skimp on basement stairs? They were steep, without solid risers, the kind of steps you might wedge a leg under if you slipped. The handrails were also missing. She shone her light into the darkness and started down, hoping she wouldn’t have a dizzy spell, hallucinate, or otherwise go berserk.

She stopped and sucked in a lungful of air at the bottom. The basement was pitch-black except for where she shone her flashlight. It was kind of like a cave. She shivered. Like most basements with dirt floors, it was earthy smelling. She stopped, stooped, and brushed the earth with her fingers. It was hard-packed reddish-brown soil. She was glad someone hadn’t covered it over with flooring. Archaeologists can do a lot with dirt floors.

Just a few feet in front of her was the old furnace that once heated the house. Years earlier someone had converted the chimney of the fireplace in the main reception hall into a flu to vent the smoke and fumes from the basement cast-iron furnace. She examined the floor leading to it before she walked across the dirt. There was a vague muddle of tracks, probably Dillon’s and Trent’s, at least.

She walked to the furnace and opened the door, shining her light on the inside. If she expected anything like charred bones, she was disappointed. It was empty. Not even ash.

The basement was rather small, compared to the floor space of the house. She walked back and forth along it, looking at the ground. There were signs of activity, but nothing that suggested itself as a clue.

Several wooden skids leaned against the front wall next to a rickety door. Probably where fuel was brought in for the furnace from outside. She was reaching for the knob of the door when she heard voices. She jumped back and put a hand over her mouth, but the voices weren’t behind the door. They seemed all around her. Her heart raced.
It’s going to wear out,
she thought as she held her chest. She slowly turned and shone a beam of light around the room. It was empty.

Don’t let me be hearing things on top of everything else.

She heard the voices again. No words, but one sounded male and the other female. She wasn’t sure, but the quality of the tone sounded like Lewis. An oval of her light rested on the furnace. Of course. She walked back over and opened the door. If she remained very quiet she could just make out what sounded like Lewis making dinner arrangements with someone else. Next, she heard footfalls going up the stairs.

She shone the flashlight above her and saw the metal ducts that had carried the hot air from the furnace throughout the house. That’s where the voices were coming from. If voices could be heard down here, she bet they would carry from the basement upward. She thought of Sharon and the voices she had heard and wondered if the house had been empty that day after all. If someone, more than one someone, had been in the basement.

She walked back to the rickety door and pulled it open. A long dirt hallway-like room led under the living room and porch area, terminating at another door at the far end. Apparently, there was a door under the front steps that she had never noticed.

She examined the floor, staying next to the wall, trying to make as little disturbance in the soil as possible. Near the outside entrance she found impressions that she could identify. It looked like the wooden skids might have been on the floor, keeping something heavy off the ground. The impression had been disturbed, but enough remained that she could identify the marks of the wooden platforms currently leaning against the wall.

So what? Something was stored here. This is a basement, after all. No telling when these marks were made. She squatted on her haunches, examining the floor for impressions in the dirt and looking for anything that might have been dropped. People leave things behind, wherever they go.

Nothing had been dropped, but she did find a small square impression, about a half inch deep, near the entrance. Whatever had made it had straight edges and sharp corners. Okay—this was something. Perhaps not anything important or relevant, but something just the same. She examined it closely. It looked like someone had dropped whatever made the impression and then stepped on it before retrieving it. As she studied it, an idea came to her.

Lindsay retraced her steps and left the basement. At the top of the stairs she checked her feet for dirt, wiping them on the top step. It was quiet. The main crew hadn’t returned. Lewis and probably Drew had come back early. Lindsay slipped through the doorway and walked up the stairs to her room.

Drew wasn’t there, but out in the hallway she heard the sounds of running water. Good, she’d just as soon not have to look someone in the eye whose possessions she had so recently rifled through. She knocked on Lewis’s door.

“It’s me,” she called.

“Hey, Lindsay, come in.” Lewis was sitting at the table with his feet propped up on an extra chair, making notes on a yellow pad. He moved his feet and motioned to the chair. “How are you?”

Apparently, stark-raving mad,
she thought.

“I’m okay. I’ve been doing a little snooping. I need to find some plaster or something to make a cast. Do you know when the scientists are due tomorrow?”

“In the afternoon. The plan is to set everything up and get started early in the morning, day after tomorrow. What are you making a cast of?”

“I don’t know. Maybe nothing. Has Claire come back, by the way?”

“She didn’t show up at the site.”

“I wonder where she is?”

Lewis shrugged. “I’m taking everyone out to dinner tonight. Maybe we can find a place to get the stuff you need while we’re out.”

“Don’t mention it to anyone.”

His eyes twinkled. “No problem.”

She was glad someone was enjoying this. The way Lewis kept his eyes on Lindsay, she wondered if he really believed she was okay. Perhaps she should have looked in the mirror before she talked with anyone. She raked her fingers through her hair.

“Where you taking us to eat?”

The group had voted for a steakhouse with a large salad bar to accommodate everyone’s tastes. Drew rode with Lewis. Lindsay drove Erin, Kelsey, and Marina. Sharon and Bill took their own car. The guys—Powell, Dillon, Adam, and Joel—piled into Byron’s van. Lindsay left a note on Claire’s bed saying where they were going and asking her to join them, please. On the way, Lindsay passed a shopping center with a large craft store still open. She detoured into the parking lot.

“Don’t lose them,” said Kelsey.

“I know where we’re going,” said Lindsay. “I’ll be just a moment.” And she was out of the vehicle before anyone could protest further.

“What’d you get?” asked Marina when Lindsay came back with a large bag.

“I wanted to try some new casting techniques on bones. I didn’t know if I’d be able to get away tomorrow.” Lindsay was relieved to discover that they were more interested in talking about Lewis than what she might be up to, and she was happy to answer their questions about him.

It was late when they got back to the site. Everyone was tired and ready to get some sleep. Lindsay carried her casting material up to her room. Tomorrow when everyone was at the site would be the best time to make the cast. Just as well for no one to be in the house while she went about her sleuthing. As she put her stash in her suitcase, she felt a little foolish, going to this much trouble on something that probably wasn’t connected to anything.

She got a towel and washcloth. This late she could get a hot shower with no waiting. She noticed that her note to Claire was still on the bed. She tossed it into the wastebasket.

Drew was getting ready for bed when Lindsay returned from the shower.

“Any ideas where Claire is?” Lindsay asked.

Drew shrugged. “She didn’t say anything to me.”

“I can understand why none of the crew are particularly concerned, but I would have thought you would be worried.”

Drew gave Lindsay a sharp look. “What I don’t understand is why you are so concerned, considering what a rough time she gave you.”

“She’s missing.”

“She’s not missing. She just went somewhere. Look, I like Claire and think she has promise, but you can’t help but have noticed that she has problems. Lately she was concerned that with both me and Lewis here, she was losing control of her job as site director. You did notice that she’s somewhat of a control freak?”

“Yes. I saw her problems. But I also know she was looking forward to the antique air project. And she wanted to watch me analyze the bones. I don’t think she would just cut out. Where does she live?”

“I’m not sure. She gave up her apartment to work here.”

Lindsay thought Drew was being deliberately evasive.

“Where did she live? She writes checks. Where’s her bank?”

“Claire has been known to just leave when things aren’t going her way. She did it in graduate school. She’s probably shacking up with Trent somewhere. He came by the night of the party looking for her. Now, I’ve got a big day tomorrow, and I’m tired.”

Lindsay stood and eyed Drew for a long time while she set her alarm clock and tucked herself in bed. Drew ignored her, but it made her uncomfortable. Lindsay could tell by the way she fumbled with the clock.

Sound Ecology would have all of Claire’s personal information. She would call them tomorrow. Finally, Lindsay settled into her own bed, wondering what kind of person she was sharing a room with. She was uneasy about going to sleep.

Chapter 27

The Cat’s Meow

THE CASTING MATERIAL, though not normally bought for the purpose Lindsay was putting it to, was very easy to use. It was sold in craft stores for body sculpting—sticking a hand into the molding compound, for instance, then making a plaster cast of it. The molding and casting compounds were designed to be mixed with water and dried quickly. Lindsay decided to use the molding compound rather than the plaster material, hoping the smoother surface of the rubber would give greater detail in the cast.