Don't Close Your Eyes (4 page)

“No problem. If she’s home, we might stand a better chance of dragging her out if we approach her in person, right?”

“Right,” Lily agreed, her smile broadening.

Natalie looked out the car window. The storm seemed to have blown the atmosphere clean. The sky was cerulean blue with a few clouds hanging like puffs of cotton candy. A light breeze ruffled tree leaves that still bore the fresh green of spring. Cooler temperatures around the lake always resulted in later blooming than in the middle of Ohio where Natalie

lived. Although it was June, a few stubborn forsythia bushes held yellow blooms to the sun. On a glorious day like this, she could almost forget her hurt over Kenny Davis. Almost.

“That’s Tam’s and Warren’s new house,” Lily said, pointing ahead to a large Cape Cod painted pale yellow with slate blue shutters.

“I didn’t realize it was out of the city limits. It’s so near Ariel Saunders’s house.”

“That place is falling to ruin. It’s a shame.”

“Why hasn’t the County Historical Society done something?”

“Don’t you remember that Viveca Cosgrove is Ariel and Zebediah’s only surviving descendent? She owns the house. She should donate it to the Historical Society but she wants to sell it to them for an outrageous price.”

“That sounds like Viveca.”

“Exactly. She’s still holding onto that piece of property The Blue Lady is on, too, although Dad tells me she’s thinking of selling it to someone who wants to rebuild the hotel.”

“I’d love to see the hotel rebuilt!” Natalie paused. “So she’s still dating your dad?”

“For a year. I think that’s a record for her. Tam and I are not happy about it, but Dad is just over the moon about her.”

“Viveca strikes again. I’m glad my father didn’t fall for her. At least I don’t think he did. How’s her daughter Alison?”

“Crazy as a loon, but I’m not supposed to say so.” Lily pulled a face. “She’s a patient of Warren’s. She used to see some psychiatrist in Toledo, but for some reason she switched, even though Warren is a psychologist and can’t prescribe drugs, which I think she needs.” Lily slowed down and pulled into the driveway of the Cape Cod. Ahead of them sat a new blue Ford Contour. “That’s Tamara’s car, but look at it. It’s covered with twigs and leaves. They must be from the storm last night. Tam wouldn’t leave a car, especially a new one, sitting beneath a tree in a storm. She’d put it in the garage.”

“Maybe the garage door is broken,” Natalie suggested.

“That happened at Kenny’s condo one time. A cable broke and he couldn’t get the door up.”

“I don’t know,” Lily said doubtfully. “If that were the case, she would at least have moved it from beneath the tree where a limb could have fallen on it.” She got out of the Corvette and headed for the front porch. “Here’s the morning newspaper. Tam always reads the paper while she drinks her morning coffee.”

Natalie followed Lily across the lawn. Although the sun shone brightly and the temperature was in the mid-seventies, the ground still felt slightly spongy. The rain had lasted for hours last night.

“And look at this living room window!” Lily called, alarm edging her voice. “It’s raised about three inches. The sheer curtains are water-stained. Tam would never leave a window up during a storm.”

“It’s just one window.” Natalie tried to sound calm although her own nerves tingled. “It’s easy to forget a window.”

Lily had backed off the porch and stood on the lawn looking upward. “There’s another open window upstairs. It’s her bedroom window. Don’t tell me she forgot that one!”

There was nothing else comforting Natalie could say. Clearly something was wrong. “Okay, what do we do first? Call the police?”

“The police?” Lily shook her head. “No. Sheriff Purdue would have listened to me, but we’ve got a new guy from New York City.”

“New York City? Here?”

“Yeah. His name is Meredith and he left New York because of some tragedy involving his wife. Anyway, he goes by the book. He’ll say Tam hasn’t been gone long enough to be declared missing or some damned excuse for not doing anything.” She ran her hands through her hair. “Tam usually takes a walk after dinner. Maybe she fell.”

Natalie glanced up and down the street with its scattering of large, new houses. “Which direction did she walk?”

“Not the street. Tam walked Hyacinth Lane that leads to

Ariel Saunders’s house.” She walked out onto the lawn and pointed. “Maybe Tam walked all the way to the house. Maybe now she’s lying hurt in that house and I didn’t sense it because I’m so wrapped up in myself and—”

“Lily!” Natalie shouted, hurrying to catch up with her. “Let’s just keep calm until we search the lane and the house.”

“And if she’s not around?”

“We’ll call Warren.”

“I don’t know where he’s staying.”

“There can’t be that many psychology conventions going on in Cleveland right now. We’ll find him.”

“And if he didn’t talk to Tamara last night?”

“Then we’ll have to call your jerk of a sheriff. But let’s not go off the deep end. Getting hysterical won’t help us find Tamara.”

Lily drew a deep breath. “You’re right. You were always the voice of reason. It’s just that Tam has seemed so unhappy lately, so vulnerable. If only I’d paid more attention to her—” She broke off. “What is that noise?”

Natalie had been vaguely aware of the noise for a few moments. Leaves brushing together. Twigs snapping. They both stood still. Everything went quiet. Even the birds stopped chirping. A line from a Keats poem floated through Natalie’s head: “And no birds sang.”

“Something’s in the brush,” Lily hissed.

“I know.” Natalie kneeled. “Come here. Come to me. It’s all right.”

“What are you doing?”

“Lily, be quiet for a minute.” Natalie peered into the dense undergrowth. “Come.” She held out her hand, palm down. “I won’t hurt you,” she said in a gentle voice. The words weren’t important but the tone was. “It’s all right…”

More rustling. Then she saw the head. Long snout, mostly tan. Small ears, brown. Black body. “Come.” The dog came to Natalie at a crouch, as if it expected to be struck. When it finally reached her hand, it sniffed twice and whimpered.

“The dog in my dream,” Lily murmured.

“I thought in your dream you only heard howling.”

“I did, too, until I saw this dog.” Lily’s voice rose. “Nat, it was this dog howling in the rain. What kind is it?”

“Mixed breed.” Natalie stroked the head, then rubbed the ears. The dog rose a bit, losing some of its fear. “I’d say part Airedale.” She bent her head. “Female. She’s never given birth.” The dog now stood at full height. “No collar. Long scratch on the face probably from a locust tree branch.”

“It must be a stray,” Lily said.

Natalie massaged the dog’s neck, noting that its already wiry hair was even stiffer there. Oh, please don’t let it have rolled in some foul-smelling dead thing, Natalie prayed. She brought her hands away. They looked reddish, rusty. She sniffed them, then looked at the dog. It whined. Her heart beating faster, Natalie placed gentle hands on either side of the dog’s head and tilted it. She wasn’t surprised at what she found.

“What is it?” Lily asked. “Your face is pale.”

Natalie swallowed. “Lily, this dog has dried blood all over its neck bat there’s no sign of injury.”

“Which means?”

Natalie didn’t want to explain how a dog or wolf might try to protect another’s neck. She stood up. “Lily, maybe the dog knows where Tamara is. Maybe it’s seen her.”

“How do we know that?”

“We don’t, but let’s walk and see what happens.” Natalie turned to the dog. “Come.” She tapped her thigh. “Come!”

The dog hesitated for a moment, then came forward. She understood basic commands. Natalie noted the protruding ribs and the paws with broken nails and small lacerations. This dog hadn’t had an easy time of it lately.

“Lily, start walking. Keep your voice calm. The dog is frightened.”

Lily blurted, “The dog is frightened—”

“Lily,” Natalie said sternly, “I think Tamara is hurt and I think this dog has been with her. Now do you want it to run off because you’re scaring the hell out of it or do you want it to lead us to Tamara?”

Lily nodded. “All right. I’m sorry. I’m just so nervous about Tam.”

“I know. Let’s walk.” They started down the rutted lane. The dog hovered behind them. Natalie turned and smiled. “Come,” she coaxed.

The dog approached Natalie, who patted it on the head. Reassured, the dog bounded ahead. In spite of its neglected condition, it looked strong and graceful.

Lily glanced around. “I don’t see any signs of Tam.”

“The road is so rutted and the brush has grown up. It didn’t look like this when we used to ride our bikes up here.”

“I hate to depress you,” Lily said, “but we haven’t ridden bikes up here for thirteen years.”

“Hard to believe it’s been so long.” The dog broke into a run. It stopped about a hundred feet ahead where an oak limb that had been struck by lightning lay across the road. The limb was covered with honeysuckle. The tiny white and yellow flowers emitted a strong, sweet scent. Hundreds of bees drawn by the scent emitted a loud, threatening buzz.

Abruptly the dog began to bark. Short, sharp bursts of alarm. It ran back and forth in agitation.

Lily and Natalie stopped as oak leaves and honeysuckle rustled. Black wings appeared on the far side of the limb as a turkey vulture rose slowly, looking at them with tiny, conscienceless eyes encircled by red skin. Another followed. The dog looked up at the ugly carrion birds, barking furiously. Hair stood up along its backbone. A corresponding shudder ran through Natalie.

“What is it?” Lily asked in a thin, unnatural voice.

“I don’t know yet,” Natalie said. “Stay here. I’ll go see.”

Lily clutched Natalie’s arm. “Nat, I feel sick.” She had turned parchment-white. “I… I think I know what it is.”

Natalie pried loose Lily’s fingers. “Stay here.”

If only Natalie felt as strong as she sounded. The day might be sunny perfection, but this place felt dark and cold. Wrong. Natalie had walked out Hyacinth Lane a hundred times and never experienced this feeling. She seemed to be in a totally unfamiliar, hostile place. An evil place.

She crossed her arms over her chest in an unconscious gesture of defense. Suddenly she became aware of the dog. It had come to meet her. Hair still stood up on its back, and it let out a little whimper of distress. Oh, God, no, Natalie thought. The closer to the honeysuckle mass they drew, the louder the bees sounded. Another vulture rose with frightening speed and size and flapped above her like something from a horror movie.

Natalie slowed and almost stopped. The dog crouched, whining. “Natalie?” Lily called weakly. Natalie didn’t answer her. Chills running over her arms, she forced herself onward to the mass of oak leaves and honeysuckle vines. Getting as close as she could, she leaned forward, swiping at bees and a mass of black flies, peering into the brush. Then, amid the shiny green leaves and tiny fragrant flowers, she saw the side of Tamara’s face. At least part of it.

The vultures had gotten the rest.

“Natalie, is it Tam?”

Hot water flooded into Natalie’s mouth. As a veterinarian she had seen some gruesome sights, and the fact that she’d been looking at animals instead of humans had not made a difference to her. Until now. Before her lay the ravaged remains of a beautiful young woman. Not just any young woman—one she had known for over twenty years.

“Natalie” Lily repeated, coming forward.

Natalie waved her away. “Stay back!”

The dog cowered and Lily froze. “It’s Tam,” Lily said in a flat voice. “She’s dead.”

Natalie closed her eyes. “Yes, Lily. She is.”

The dog whined as if in sympathy. Natalie opened her eyes and looked at Lily. Lily and Tamara. Two faces, mirror images. Now one remained lovely while the other had been rendered grotesque.

“Are you sure she’s… ?” Lily asked hollowly. “Maybe she’s just unconscious or something.”

The eyes were gone and the remaining flesh of the face too white for life. “Lily, Tamara is dead.”

Lily came to her and Natalie wrapped her arms around Lily’s stiff body. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly.

“It’s all so strange,” Lily mumbled. “My dream. The dog. I saw that dog in my dream. It was howling.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “That’s Tam’s blood on its neck.”

“Probably.”

“All night she was lying out here in the rain. I was having fun at Panache, then I went home and slept like a log in my

nice, dry bed while my sister lay out here with only that dog trying to help her.”

“It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

Lily’s voice rose. “If the positions had been reversed, Tam would have known.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Natalie held Lily away from her and looked into the hazel eyes that didn’t seem to be quite focusing. She started to say they had to go back to the car and call the police. Then the image of the turkey vultures flashed in her mind. She couldn’t leave Tamara to a renewed assault, but she couldn’t make Lily stand guard over her mutilated sister, either. She didn’t want Lily to see Tamara. “Call the police on your car phone,” she ordered.

Lily blinked. “You want me to go back to the car by myself?”

“Yes. I need to stay here with Tamara. Please, Lily.”

Abruptly Lily turned and headed back down the road. Natalie watched her, hoping she wouldn’t faint. Her legs moved quickly and firmly, though. The reality of Tamara’s death probably hadn’t hit her.

Natalie looked down at the dog. “Did you see what happened? Was Tamara killed by the falling tree limb?” The dog turned its head, listening intently. Natalie braced herself and walked back to Tamara. Only her face was exposed. The tree limb, leaves, and masses of honeysuckle covered the rest of her body.

She looked back at the dog, thinking. It had gotten the blood on its neck from Tamara, but only her face was showing. There was no sign that the dog had trampled over the honeysuckle to reach Tamara. The dog must have been around the body—the bloody body—before the limb had fallen. Tamara was already dead when the limb fell. Could she have been struck by lightning?