She yanked open the front door and confronted a seemingly impenetrable wall of fog. The lantern light spilled through the doorway behind her. It would be a tough drive but she had to get away.
She carried the hatbox down the front steps, set it inside the trunk, and rushed back into the cabin to pick up the grip. Once again she started down the steps to the Ford.
She froze halfway to the car because things were moving in the mist. Horrifying, snake-headed creatures twisted and writhed endlessly, their iridescent scales glowing with bizarre colors. Fangs dripped with blood.
Somewhere in the back of her mind she realized that she was hallucinating. The whiskey, she thought vaguely. But she wasn’t drunk. She had taken only a couple of swallows.
She gave up trying to make sense of what she was seeing because the colors of the snakes were too hot and painfully bright. One of the monsters swam toward her through the mist. Its eyes blazed with a terrible radiance.
A flashlight, some remote part of her brain tried to tell her. Just a flashlight. But she could not hold on to the rational explanation.
She started to turn around, intending to flee into the safety of the cabin. But it was too late.
The killer came up behind her and plunged the needle into the curve of her shoulder, close to her neck. She staggered over the threshold and made it as far as the bed before she collapsed. Her last conscious thought was that the target had double-crossed her.
* * *
? ? ?
?The killer took out a gun. The occasion called for another suicide but it was time to change the method. The nearest house was half a mile away. The roar of the ocean would muffle the shot.
The next order of business was locating the stash of blackmail materials. The hatbox containing the secrets that Madam Zolanda and her assistant had collected during the past three years was in the trunk of Leggett’s car.
Chapter 31
Jake opened his eyes and was vaguely annoyed to see the dull gloom of a foggy morning. Something important had happened during the night, he thought. But for a moment he could not remember what it was. Fragments of dreams whispered through his mind.
He recalled standing on a moonlit beach with Adelaide and seeking answers at the end of a highway paved in silver moonlight. A monster had lurked in the shadows. It had threatened Adelaide.
He was trying to focus on the memory when Adelaide herself appeared, hovering over him. She was no longer wearing the satin gown and silver shoes. Instead she had on a pair of wide-legged trousers and a snug-fitting sweater. Her hair was pinned in a severe knot at the nape of her neck. She had a mug in one hand.
“I gave you the antidote as soon as we got back here last night,” she said. “I managed to get you up the stairs to your bed before you collapsed. Otherwise you’d have awakened on the floor downstairs. I made some strong coffee for you. Trust me, it will help.”
“If you say so.”
He sat up slowly and swung his legs over the edge, planting both feet on the floor. He was still wearing the trousers and the white shirt that he had worn to the Paradise Club. Somewhere along the line he had lost his jacket, his tie, and his shoes.
He wrapped one hand around the mug and took a cautious swallow. It tasted very good. He took another swallow.
“What did you say about an antidote?” he finally asked.
“I think that you were drugged with a dangerous hallucinogen called Daydream. My parents discovered it. As soon as they realized its dangerous properties, my mother created an herbal antidote. I did the research in the botanical literature for her so I know the ingredients.”
“This is going to be a very complicated story, isn’t it?”
“I’m afraid so,” Adelaide said. “How do you feel?”
He considered the question closely. More memories trickled back.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “All right, I think. Did I have too much to drink last night?”
“No. You didn’t have anything to drink except sparkling water. You were drugged and it’s my fault.”
He eyed her closely. “You didn’t drug me, did you?”
“No, of course not. Look, I hate to say this, believe me, but I think you should leave as soon as possible.”
He contemplated her for a long moment. She looked anxious, stricken with guilt, and quite desperate.
“Let me get this straight,” he said. “You’re kicking me out?”
“I think it’s for the best.”
“For me or for you?”
“For you. It’s clear now that I’ve put you in terrible danger.”
“Believe it or not, I figured out at the start of this thing that you were running from something or someone. It’s too late to ditch me. We’re in this together.”
“You don’t understand.”
“No, but I will just as soon as you explain it to me. What time is it?”
“What? Oh.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s just going on six thirty. Why?”
“That means we’ve got plenty of time before you have to go to work at the tearoom.”
“Time for you to pack?”
She sounded almost hopeful, he thought.
“No,” he said. “Time for you to tell me what’s going on.”
Adelaide hesitated. “All right. After what happened, you have a right to some answers. I was going to tell you some of it last night but then you started hallucinating—”
He held up a hand to stop her. “Not so fast. I am going to clean up, shave, and put on some fresh clothes. Then we’ll talk.”
She hesitated. “All right. I’ll make breakfast while you’re getting ready.”
“That sounds like a very good plan.”
She took a deep breath and visibly steeled herself. “I think you should know that I didn’t tell you the whole truth last night when I said I didn’t recognize the dark-haired man who walked past us in the gardens.”
“I figured there was more to the story. Who was he?”
“I can’t be absolutely positive because I didn’t get a good look at him, but I think it may have been my husband,” Adelaide said.
She turned and walked out of the bedroom before he could think of a reasonable response.
He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, contemplating what she had just told him.
There was a husband. Damn.
He collected his shaving kit and went into the bathroom. He set the kit on the pink tiled counter and put the coffee mug next to it. Then he looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was not an inspiring sight, he decided. His face was shadowed with dark stubble, his hair was standing on end, and his eyes were those of a man who had spent an exhausting night fighting demons.
He drained the last of the coffee and set the empty mug back on the counter.
“I knew it was going to get more complicated,” he said to the man in the mirror.
Chapter 32
He went downstairs a short time later, feeling remarkably improved. It was amazing what a quick bath, a brisk shave, and a cup of strong coffee could do for a man.
Adelaide was at the stove frying eggs and slathering butter on thick chunks of toast. When she saw him, she handed him another mug of coffee without saying a word.
He sat down at the scarred table and hoisted the mug.
“I’m listening,” he said.
She concentrated on the eggs in the skillet.
“You’re probably going to think I’m delusional,” she warned.
“Is that why you haven’t told me the whole truth until now?”
“Yes.” She used a spatula to lift one of the eggs out of the pan and slipped it onto a plate. “I didn’t want to have to tell you the truth because I liked the way you looked at me—at least, the way you looked at me until last night.”
“How, exactly, did I look at you?”
“As if I was normal. That’s the way everyone else here in Burning Cove looks at me, too. It makes me feel good.”
“Are you saying you’re not normal?”
“I think I’m fairly normal. But it’s going to be hard to convince you of that after I tell you my story.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“All right.”