Blood Vines

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

Monday, March 15

9:10 A.M.

The two hours’ wait seemed interminable. She made another pot of coffee, showered and straightened the cottage. Still, every minute seemed like ten. When he finally pulled up, she ran to meet him.

He wrapped her in his arms. “My God,” he said, “you’re shaking.”

“There’s so much to tell you… so much has happened. I don’t know where to begin.”

“Slow down, honey. Take a deep breath. Start with today.”

Alex breathed deeply, then said, “To start with today, I have to show you.”

She led him into the house and through to the bathroom. She flipped on the light and stepped aside. She saw it through his eyes, the smears of garish red, the crudely written word, the underlying mania of it. As if it had been done in a frenzy.

He looked at her. “Holy shit, Alex. What is this?”

“I don’t know, but I’m afraid… I think I might have done it.”

For a long moment he didn’t speak. When he did, he did so carefully, his tone measured. “That’s a fairly bold statement, Alex. One I don’t think you should make lightly.”

In his eyes, she saw real concern. “I’m not. I thought someone had broken in. The window was open. I was startled awake by something.”

“Or someone.”

“That’s what I thought, but then I saw… my right hand was stained. From the lipstick.” She held out her hands. “I showered. I probably shouldn’t have, but… It was on my sheets, too. I could show you.”

“It’s okay. I believe you.” He frowned and touched one of the smears, then rubbed it between his fingers. “I’ve never seen you wear red.”

“Rachel and I each bought a tube of it. We were being silly.”

He looked at her. “Who’s Rachel?”

“My stepsister. I really like her.” She rubbed her arms, suddenly chilled. “I need some sun. How about you?”

They ended up on the front porch, on the swing. On the way out, she’d grabbed the legal tablet and handed it to him now.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“I made a list. Of everything that’s happened. I hoped it would help me make sense of it all.”

He took the tablet from her and began to read. While he did, she held her face to the sun. The morning was bright and lovely. The light angled across the porch, touching them as the swing moved. In the small oak tree at the end of the porch, two finches were busy building a nest.

After several moments, he stopped the swing and looked at her. “I want you out of here, Alex.” As if anticipating her argument, he held up a hand to stop her. “You should have gotten the hell out when you found that lamb. Frankly, I’m a little concerned that you didn’t.”

“I thought the same thing this morning, when I took it all in.”

“And?”

“They’re not going to chase me off, Tim.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know, whoever’s doing this. I’m not leaving until I learn the truth.”

He angled toward her and gathered her hands in his. “What truth is that, Alex?”

“What really happened twenty-five years ago. To my brother. To me. Why my mother took me away and did her best to expunge my memory of the first five years of my life. What they’ve told me so far is a lie.”

Tim frowned. “What’ve they told you?”

“That my mother had been seducing the teenage sons of her and Harlan’s friends. It was a club, she publicly initiated them into sex. Then they all-”

She bit the last back.

“Then they what, Alex?”

She looked at him defiantly. “Took turns fucking her.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Who told you that?”

“Wayne Reed. He and his wife were my mother and stepfather’s best friends. His oldest son was one of the boys.” She cleared her throat. “After Dylan’s abduction, he confessed it all to his father. Wayne Reed went to the other fathers, they confronted her and ran her out of town.”

“And he just shared this out of the blue?”

“No. I was asking around about her ring, the one I found in her trunk.”

“With the vines and snake motif?”

She nodded and he frowned. “I thought maybe it’d been from my father. Turned out she’d had it designed for herself. Her initiates got a tattoo of the same motif.”

“And one of those ‘initiates’ turned up dead?”

She nodded. “They were afraid their secret would get out. They hadn’t even told the boys’ mothers. Or Harlan, he’d already lost so much. Plus, they didn’t want it all dredged up for the boys.”

“Nice and neat,” Tim murmured. He tapped the list. “Except for all this. Why’s it happening?”

A rhetorical question, she knew. Reed’s words jumped into her head again. “Whatever’s happening, you’re a part of it.”

Tim returned his gaze to hers. “Describe your wine cave experiences. Physically, how did they make you feel?”

“Both times, it was like having a panic attack. My heartbeat accelerated. My breathing. Palms began to sweat.

“Then the hallucination thing happened, though the two episodes were very different.” She clasped her hands together. “The first time, I smelled incense and heard a group of people… I thought there was a group having a party. I called out, but no one answered.”

Alex cleared her throat, remembering. “Some of the sounds coming from the group were… strange. Bestial. I lost it and screamed, though I had no recollection of doing it.

“My date found me,” she went on. “I was so certain there were people partying in there, we searched together. But the cave was empty.”

“I don’t think this is about your mother, Alex.”

She swallowed hard. “No?”

“No.” He covered her hands with his. “Who’s the sacrificial lamb?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“The slaughtered animal left under your sink was an actual lamb. The mutilated baby doll is its metaphorical parallel. Who in this story is the lamb?”

The one unfairly blamed for the acts of another. The one killed to further a cause.

“Dylan’s the obvious choice,” she whispered. “He’s the faceless baby of my visions. Screaming. Children are often called lambs.”

“Maybe. Who else?”

“My mother.”

“Maybe the baby is you?”

She stared at him, heart thundering. “No. I would know it.” At his expression, she added, “How could that be? I’m there in my vision. I’m the one seeing him scream.”

“In dream interpretation, everything in a dream represents an aspect of the self.”

“But these aren’t dreams. I’m awake, Tim.”

He tightened his fingers over hers. “Honey, this is about you. You’re the sacrificial lamb.”

She shook her head, not wanting to believe it. He pressed on. “Something happened to you, probably in the wine caves. And whatever it was, it was traumatic.” He searched her gaze. “And either somebody else knows about it and is tormenting you. Or your subconscious is doing its damnedest-”

“To get me to remember,” she whispered.

“Yes.”

She didn’t want to believe it, but it rang true. She started to shake. “That’s why it was so easy for me to forget.”

“I think so.”

“I’m like her, aren’t I? It’s happened.”

“No, Alex. You were a little girl and you were hurt. You’re not unbalanced.”

She laughed, tears filling her eyes. “Wow, that’s not the way it feels.”

“There’s still so much we don’t know, Alex. What’s the rest of the story? How does your brother’s abduction fit in? Or does it at all? What about your mother, that story about her? What about your father?”

She blinked, surprised. “My father? What could he have to do with any of this?”

“I don’t know. Maybe that’s the point.” He lowered his voice. “I think it’s time for you to come home.”

Home, she thought. Away from all this craziness.

But how could she escape the craziness inside her?

“I can’t run away,” she said. “And I’m not afraid.”

“I sure as hell am, Alex. Afraid for you.” He leaned toward her. “Look, babe, whoever’s doing this isn’t screwing around. Somebody’s dead. A house has been burned to the ground.”

“I can’t run away,” she said. “You know I can’t. If I don’t stay to find the truth, the truth will find me.”

His lips lifted. “Ever heard of therapy? A nice safe couch, a boring but intuitive counselor, two or three visits a week-”

“No. I’m not going.”

“Think about it. Please?”

She opened her mouth to refuse, then shut it as a series of images filled her head: the mutilated doll, the blood of the lamb, Max Cragan’s gentle countenance distorted in death.

She should be afraid. Terrified.

Why wasn’t she?

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll think about it.”