The woman set her wine down so sharply some of the beverage sloshed over its rim. “I hate this.”
“Let’s think about the game. We played it this afternoon. Let’s figure out what he’s up to. Head him off at the pass.”
Leo nodded. “It’s the White Rabbit’s game. He’s in control.”
“He creates the story,” Stacy said. “He created this one.”
“There’s a band of heroes. They are on a mission to save Wonderland. And ultimately the rest of the world.”
“The dormouse is dead. She was under the rabbit’s control, which means that one of the heroes killed her.”
“The playing cards are also in peril.”
“Or already dead.” She glanced at Kay. She had dropped her head into her hands. “I’m in the game. Either as the Cheshire Cat or-”
“One of the heroes.” Leo snapped his fingers. “Of course! You can’t be the cat because he’s-”
“Under the control of the White Rabbit.”
“Same with us,” Kay said suddenly, lifting her head. “Thank God.”
“Before you celebrate, love, remember the heroes are always in jeopardy. From the Rabbit or his minions. And sometimes-” he paused “-from each other.”
Kay moaned; Stacy shook her head. “Someone is physically playing the game. A group. Like the one Cassie was a member of. It seems unlikely that Rosie Allen was a player which means this bastard chooses people to represent the characters.”
“Or this could be the work of a lone sicko.” Leo paused. “If it’s a group, they could be e-players.”
Her thoughts raced as she considered the various options, putting the pieces together, getting a feel for them. “The group could be an active part of the killing. Or-”
“Unwitting participants.”
They fell silent. They needed to narrow the field. She needed to tell them about Pogo.
She turned and met her boss’s eyes. “That artist, the one who created the cards, he’s dead.”
“Dead?” he repeated, looking confused. “But you and Detective Malone just-”
“He was murdered, Leo. His throat was slit, his body dumped in the Mississippi River.”
Kay caught her breath. “Oh, my God.”
“Mom?”
They turned. Alice stood in the doorway, eyes wide, cheeks pasty.
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
Kay shot Leo an angry glance, even as they both rushed to the girl’s side. She took the teenager into her arms, comforting her. Stroking her hair and murmuring words of comfort.
Ones that sounded authentic: promises that everything would be okay, that she had nothing to fear. Things Stacy knew the woman didn’t feel. Kay was able to put aside her own fears to relieve her daughter’s.
Stacy had thought Kay a cold perfectionist. Now, she would never look at the woman the same again.
On the other hand, Leo stood stiffly and silently beside them, looking like a fish out of water.
Kay looked accusingly at Leo once more. “I’m going to take her upstairs.”
He nodded, visibly upset, then turned and crossed to the couch. He sat heavily. “Kay blames me.”
Stacy agreed, but didn’t see where saying so would help.
“I didn’t make this happen. It’s not my fault.”
“I know,” she said softly, feeling for him. “She’s scared. She’s not thinking clearly.”
“I hate not being able to do anything. Alice is…she’s the most important thing in the world to me. To see her so shaken up and being unable to-”
He bit the words off on a sound of frustration. “That artist was our best lead.”
Their only real lead. “Yes.”
“What are we going to do now?”
“Wait. Use caution in everything we do. And hope the police do their jobs.”
“Screw the police. What are we going to do?”
“We know that the artist wasn’t our guy. He was only the hired help.”
“The White Rabbit did it.”
“It could be. We don’t know that for sure.”
He laughed suddenly, the sound tight. “Of course it was the White Rabbit. You believe in coincidences no more than I do. When you and Detective Malone got close, he killed the artist to protect his own identity.”
She didn’t respond. That was her assessment as well, based not on fact, but common sense-and a strong gut feeling.
“It’s someone close,” she said. “Within your circle. I still believe that.”
“So, move in.”
“Excuse me?”
“I want you to stay here. With us.”
“Leo, I don’t think-”
“Kay’s upset. You saw Alice. They’ll feel safer with you living here.”
“Hire professional security. Get a dog. An electric fence. The video surveillance that Kay mentioned. Security isn’t my line.”
“I’d feel safer with you than with paid muscle.”
“Why? And don’t tell me it’s because I was a cop, that doesn’t wash.”
“Because you wouldn’t just be protecting us. You’d be protecting yourself, too.”
“I’m not worried about protecting-”
“You’re in the game, Stacy. You damn well better be interested in protecting yourself. Plus, the outcome of this matters to you. And if you’re here, you’re more likely to be a part of that outcome.”
CHAPTER 36
Monday, March 14, 2005
Noon
In the end, Stacy agreed to move into the Noble mansion. Not because she thought she could protect the Nobles. And not because she felt she would be safer in the company of others.
But because the closer she was to the Nobles, the closer she was to the investigation. If she was in the middle of it, Malone couldn’t shut her out.
She had insisted, however, that Leo install a video surveillance system. She had also strongly suggested that Alice and Kay move from the guest house to the main house. Although Kay had refused for herself, she’d compelled Alice to do it. That very day, they had moved Alice’s daybed into the room that already served as her schoolroom.
Outfitted with a computer, high-speed Internet and cable TV, the teenager had little reason to emerge from the room. Or lair, as Stacy already thought of it.
Alice’s response to the change had been typical teenage cynicism. The frightened girl Stacy had glimpsed was gone, replaced by a sullen teenager. Living with a teenager, she was discovering, was akin to living with a victim of multiple-personality disorder.
Stacy snatched up the books she needed for her evening class, then headed out, locking her door behind her.
“That’s a little paranoid, don’t you think?”
Stacy glanced over her shoulder. Alice stood just outside her schoolroom door. She looked bored.
Stacy smiled. “Better safe than sorry.”
“Nice cliché.”
“But true. How’re you doing?”
“Fine and dandy.” She smirked. “Speaking of clichés.”
Stacy cringed at the sarcasm in the girl’s tone. “I don’t plan on getting in your way.”
“Whatever.”
“The other day you were frightened. But not anymore?”
“No.” She lifted a shoulder. “I figured it out. You engineered all this, to get closer to my dad.”
Stacy held back a sound of amused disbelief. “And why would I do that?”
“Star power.”
Clark called the girl back to her studies then. He caught Stacy’s glance and rolled his eyes. She grinned. Obviously, he had overheard their conversation.
The rest of the day rocked by. Stacy worked on a paper due the next afternoon. Instead of working in her room, she set up in the kitchen, to keep better tabs on the comings and goings in the mansion.
Mrs. Maitlin wasn’t thrilled with the arrangement.
“Can I get you something?” the woman asked as she made herself a cup of coffee.
“You don’t have to wait on me.” Stacy smiled. “But thanks for the offer.”
The housekeeper stood at the counter with her coffee, looking uncomfortable.