Out for Blond Page 22

  Beth wouldn’t give me the phone number either, but she said she’d have Violet call me.

  Within ten minutes, my phone rang.

  “Hello?” I said.

  “Hi there, Ivy, it’s Violet,” said her voice on the other end. “Beth said you had some more questions for me?”

  “I just wanted to know a little bit more about Braxton and that ritual. You said he was interested in it. How did you know that?”

  “Oh, he talked about it all the time. He might have heard about it at the Clayton Farm, but he was doing his own research on it. Said he found the Ocapotactu fascinating. He had files on his computer all about it. I thought it was morbid, but what do I know? I mean, I’m just not as smart as he is or anything. I can’t pretend to understand the significance.”

  “Violet, promise me that you’re going to try not to keep saying things like that about yourself.”

  “Things like what?”

  “That you’re not smart. It isn’t true. It’s only what Braxton told you.”

  “Oh,” she said, laughing a little. “I guess you’re right. Gosh, it’s weird, Ivy. Having people interested in what I think and what I have to say. I’ve been hearing Braxton put me down for so long that I’d forgotten what that was even like.”

  My heart went out to the girl, it really did. It was criminal what Braxton had done to her. He really was a jerk. “Well, I’m very interested in what you think. Do you think Braxton would be capable of carrying that ritual out?”

  “You mean actually killing someone?”

  “He was violent with you, wasn’t he? Could he take that violence a step further?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe.”

  Was she saying that because she still had some latent loyalty to him or was she really just unsure about his ability to commit murder? I wished I could know. “You said he had research on the ritual.”

  “Yeah, I remember him showing me stuff on his computer more than once,” she said.

  I wished I could get my eyes on that. If I was still a police officer, I could get a warrant and seize his computer. But I wasn’t an officer anymore, and that meant that I couldn’t—

  Wait a second. I wasn’t a police officer. Which meant I didn’t need a warrant.

  “Violet?” I said. “Is there any way that I could get into the house? Into Braxton’s office to look at those files? A hidden key under a mat or something?”

  “Well,” she said, “I, um, guess you could get in through the servants’ entrance in the back. It’s never locked.”

  I could tell she was hesitant over the idea.

  “If Braxton found out that I told you that…”

  “Oh, don’t worry, he won’t.” So, that was why she was worried. “I promise he’s never going to hurt you again, Violet. I promise.”

  * * *

  As I pulled up the road to Braxton’s house, it started to drizzle. The rain wasn’t heavy, but it was persistent. And since I didn’t want to advertise my presence, I had to trudge through it to get to the back of the house, the servants’ entrance that Violet had told me about. I left my car down the road, behind a bend. It wasn’t exactly hidden, but it wasn’t on display either.

  It was dark and wet, and by the time I got to the back door, my hair was pasted to my forehead, both by the rain and by a little bit of sweat from hurrying through the darkness. The lights of the mansion glowed out through the gloom, unearthly and gleaming.

  I knew that I couldn’t be seen by anyone or this little expedition would be over, so I stopped at the back door to make sure the coast was clear. I tried the doorknob. Violet hadn’t been lying. It was open, all right. I eased the door open, just a few centimeters, and I peered inside.

  The door opened into the kitchen, which was massive, full of sleek stainless steel appliances. A huge refrigerator, an eight burner stove, three deep sinks. It was a kitchen that could have served an entire restaurant. I didn’t know why Braxton had something like that. Maybe he liked to entertain.

  Anyway, the good thing was that the kitchen was empty and silent. I pushed the door the rest of the way open.

  It groaned on its hinges, like something out of a Dracula movie.

  Hadn’t I already compared this place to Dracula’s castle? I shut the door carefully, but it was just as noisy closing as it had been opening. Leaning against the closed door, I waited to see if anyone would come to find me. Had anyone heard me come in?

  A few seconds passed, and there was no indication of anyone on their way, so I moved away from the door, breathing a sigh of relief. I padded out of the kitchen and emerged into a small, dark hallway. I didn’t have any other way out of the kitchen, so I had to follow it.

  I remembered that last time I was in the house, I’d been pretty confused by its twists and turns. I was sure that if I came back into the place, I’d get lost. So I’d asked Violet how to get to Braxton’s office from the servants’ entrance, and she’d given me directions. Apparently, there were a second set of steps off this hallway, and that would take me to the second level.

  But the thing was, it was dark in this hallway, and it was hard to see anything.

  I managed to make out a few indentations, tall doorways, and I tried each of them.

  But they all only led to locked doors.

  And when I tried the third one, I somehow managed to kick it. A loud thump reverberated throughout the hall.

  I winced, holding my breath, expecting someone to come now. That had really been loud.

  But nothing.

  Okay. Well, it was dark outside. Dinner was over and perhaps there wasn’t much for Braxton’s servants to be doing at this time of night. Still, it was strange to me that anyone could just waltz into this house. Wasn’t Braxton worried about theft or vandalism? Maybe not, since there was ostensibly someone at home right now, lots of someones.

  Somewhere.

  The fourth dark indentation proved to the be the steps, and I began climbing them.

  The stairs were lit by the same candelabras that lit the rest of the mansion. They weren’t lit with real candles, but with delicate light fixtures made of sculpted metal. They appeared gothic and modern at once. Very chic, I supposed.

  As I climbed, though, I realized that there was no way to ascend these steps without making noise. My footsteps seemed to echo in the tiny enclosed space, the sound bouncing off the ceiling and walls. To me, it seemed deafening.

  Surely, someone was going to hear me.

  I slowed down, trying to just kiss the floor with my toes.

  But it was still noisy. I couldn’t erase the sound.

  Screw this, I thought. If it was going to make so much noise, I might as well just get it over with. I didn’t want to worry over how loud I was, so I’d rather just be done with this stairwell.

  I picked up the pace, hurrying up the steps as quick as I could.

  The effect was thunderous. It sounded like a team of horses was going up the steps, their hooves pattering every available surface.

  I grimaced, but I kept going.

  At the top of the steps, I flung open the door, happy to be done with that.

  And heard voices.

  “…going to have something brought up for a snack later, he said.”

  “But I’ve already closed up and cleaned up the kitchen.”

  I froze. I peered down the hallway and saw two people in the distance—both in suits. They must be servants. What should I do?

  “Well, he said that something microwaved would be fine, even offered to heat it up himself.”

  They were coming closer, and if they saw me, they’d kick me out. I was sure of that. From the sounds of things, they were heading back to the kitchen, which meant that they’d probably be heading right down these steps.

  So I couldn’t go back down the steps.

  “Sure, sure. I can just see that. Braxton Whitney offering to do work on his own? Balls.”

  They weren’t looking in my direction. They were look
ing at each other. I scanned the hallway up here. It was wider than the hallway from the kitchen, carpeted in maroon with gold patterns etched over it. The ceiling was intricately patterned and their were decorative pillars on the walls every six feet or so. Across the hall from me, there was another door.

  But with my luck, it would be just as locked as the doors off the hallway leading to the steps.

  Besides, if I rushed across the hallway, they were sure to see me.

  They were both laughing. “Bet he doesn’t even know how to work a microwave.”

  I looked down the steps. There was no way I could get all the way down them and into a hiding spot before they spotted me.

  So, across the hall it was.

  And I couldn’t creep on tiptoe either. I needed to move fast, or I wouldn’t make it.

  My heart picked up speed in my chest.

  They were going to see me. This was all going to be over with before I’d even got a chance to see what it was that Braxton had on his computer.

  I took a step into the hallway.

  The servants were still laughing. “I can just see him staring at the touch pad, not knowing how to make it start.”

  They hadn’t seen me. They didn’t see me.

  But I’d barely moved. When I streaked across the hallway, there was no way that they wouldn’t…

  But if I was going to try it, I had to try it now. I didn’t have anymore time.

  So, I sprinted across the hallway, eyes on the door I was headed for, not on the servants at all. I moved as quickly as I possibly could, and I collided on the other side of the hallway at the door.

  With a thud.

  “Did you hear something?” said one of the servants.

  Jesus. I scrabbled for the door handle.

  Just as I’d thought, it wouldn’t turn. Locked, I thought. Damn it.

  They were going to find me here. I was going to get caught, and how the hell was I supposed to explain this?

  There wasn’t an explanation. I was trespassing, and that was that.

  “Yeah, what was that?”

  “It came from up here.”

  I flattened myself against the door, squeezing my eyes shut. I know it was stupid to close my eyes. Like some kind of toddler, thinking that if I couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see me. But it was a reflex, and they snapped open soon enough anyway.

  When the door gave against my weight.

  That’s right. It wasn’t locked after all. It actually didn’t latch. It was a swinging door, and the knob was just for show. That was why it hadn’t turned.

  I found myself inside some kind of den or sitting room. It was blue—periwinkle. The carpet, the walls (blue patterned wallpaper), the ceiling. There were chocolate brown overstuffed leather couches and chairs set up around a dark mahogany coffee table. On the wall, a painting of a ship at sea in a storm. There was a fire burning in the fire place, but the room was empty.

  I gulped.

  “I don’t see anything,” said one of the voices, just outside the door.

  The servants were closer, then. They were right on top of me. That had been a very close call.

  “Weird,” said the other. “I thought for sure I heard something.”

  “Ghosts. I keep telling you this place is haunted.”

  “Yeah, right.” A chuckle. “I wonder if I should check inside the Blue Room.”

  I stopped breathing. God damn it, were they really going to come in here?

  “We can go ghost hunting later. Right now, you’ve got to go whip up a snack for Braxton.”

  A groan. “Man. Fuck Braxton Whitney.”

  And the voices began to get softer. They were walking away, fading into the distance.

  “Say that louder, so he can hear you.”

  “You shut up. I mean it.”

  The voices kept up, but now they were so far away that I couldn’t make out exactly what it was they were saying. I let out the breath I’d been holding. They hadn’t come in after me after all.

  I waited until I couldn’t hear the voices at all. Then I peeked out into the hallway. It was empty. According to Violet, I should have turned left at the top of the steps and walked down to the tenth doorway, which was Braxton’s office.

  Now, I was on the opposite side of the hall, so I turned right. I began counting doors, going as quickly as I could. I may have successfully evaded those two servants, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t others, or Braxton himself. I wasn’t in the clear, and I wouldn’t be until I was out of this house and safely back in my car. But since I’d come this far, I had to do my damnedest to get on his computer and find out what I could.

  The first door I turned into turned out to be a bedroom. It was dark in there, but I could make out the shadowy figures of a bed and bureau.

  I backed out of that room and tried the next. It was the office.

  I recognized it from when I’d been in here before, the first time we’d talked to Braxton. I didn’t want to turn on the light in case someone saw it and got suspicious, so I just made my way through the darkness to sit down behind Braxton’s desk.

  I jiggled the mouse.

  Nothing happened.

  Great. Braxton was one of the two percent of people on earth who actually shut down his computer when he wasn’t using it.

  The only thing on the desk was his paper-thin monitor, which was also about as wide as the television in my apartment. I figured that meant that the tower was on the floor, so I felt down beneath the desk for it.

  Nothing there.

  I had to bend down and stick my head under the desk until I could find the tower. Then it was even more of a struggle to try to find the on button.

  But eventually, I hit it and the computer fired to life.

  Then I realized why Braxton shut this thing down. It was the fastest loading computer I’d ever seen. It was up and running Windows in seconds. I whistled low under my breath. What kind of computer was this, and could Eden get me one? Eden sometimes had the hook up for good electronics. She’d actually gotten me a computer when I was in college that had been fantastic for the time period. She’d done some extra modding to it as well, and it had lasted well beyond its typical expiration date. Of course, she’d only given me that computer because she couldn’t pay the rent for a few months, and that had been her way of paying me back for picking up the slack for her. We’d been roommates back then. These days, the tables were turned, and I was the one owing Eden all the time, not her owing me.

  Crash.

  I leaped out of the chair, heart pounding, adrenaline pumping through my veins, on high alert.

  It took me a second to realize that the noise had been thunder.

  Only thunder.

  Outside, the rain was really starting to come down. It streamed down the window in the office. There was a flash of lightning, illuminating the interior of the office. The stuffed animal heads were suddenly visible, all in white-bright relief, the teeth and horns gleaming.

  I let out a tiny, breathless noise.

  That had startled me.

  I shut my eyes and took a few slow breaths to calm myself. I really needed to get busy looking on this hard drive. I opened my eyes.

  I clicked on Braxton’s Documents folder and scanned through the folders within. There was something labeled Clayton Society. I clicked on it. It opened up a folder full of documents, most of them titled with dates.

  Man. Was I going to have to go through every date? It seemed likely that he’d taken notes on each of these dates when he was spying at the farm.

  Then I saw a document entitled Ocapotactu. I opened that instead.

  Jackpot.

  To Entreat the Great Spirit for Power over the Will, it read.

  I scanned the document, which was outlining the ritual that had been carried out on Tess. It was detailed, explaining that the sacrifice should be covered in the proper symbols to signal the Great Spirit, and that the sacrifice should be tied spread eagle under the new moon at midn
ight.

  Reading the thing gave me chills, especially thinking of what had happened to Tess.

  But it was different than the ritual that Gunner had described. Not so much in detail, because that seemed to match up pretty perfectly with what he’d said, right down to the fact that it said that the sacrifice should be unconscious when the symbols were placed on her and when her throat was cut. Which hadn’t happened, of course.

  It was different in the way that it explained the purpose of the ritual. The notebook that Brigit had gotten from Natalie had told us that the ritual was done by the Ocapotactu in order to protect the tribe. But this was claiming that such a dark act would give the person who did it the power to influence people. The power to bend others to his will.

  Another clap of thunder, followed by a flash of lightning.

  My insides tangled up.

  Well, that was ridiculous, wasn’t it? Braxton couldn’t have power like that.

  Gunner couldn’t…

  Braxton, damn it. I was in Braxton’s house. I was proving that Braxton did it. That’s what I was trying to do here. There was no reason to even think about Gunner, because it wasn’t as if Gunner had the power to bend me to his will. It really, really wasn’t.

  I went back to the ritual, trying to get my mind back to the task at hand. This was good here. This was hard evidence that Braxton had known about the ritual. I may not have anything to tie him to Tess, but this was a good reason to start digging in earnest for that connection.

  I opened Chrome and called up my Dropbox account. I uploaded copies of everything in Braxton’s Clayton Society folder. I’d go through the rest of it later. Now, I should probably get out of there before I—

  The light came on.

  My head popped up, expecting to see the two servants from before.

  But instead, it was Braxton himself. His eyes were dark and glittering. And just looking at him, my stomach dropped into my ankles.

  Yeah, maybe this man had done some kind of ritual to summon the Great Spirit, because just looking into his eyes made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

  Not that I believed in that kind of thing. I didn’t.

  “Ms. Stern, what are you doing in my office?” he said.