“Do you think he will be a help?”
“I do. It’s early to tell, of course. That’s why I came here — I wanted to let you know immediately, and in person. I didn’t want there to be any surprises.”
“And how did our friend Novak, the chosen one, react to my confession?”
“He seemed to believe it.”
“Well, he should. That’s not what I’m asking. Does he understand the importance of the cave?”
“He wants the same thing you do, though he’s not fully aware of it yet. He wants to return to Trapdoor. I’m almost certain.”
Ridley went to the woodstove and busied himself with stoking the fire just because he needed something to do, a place to direct the energy that was pulsing within him.
“He’s not what I’d hoped,” he said with his back to her. “He’s too rigid. I don’t think he understands the first thing about that place.”
“Earlier you thought that the cave might have shown more of herself to Novak than to others.”
Ridley watched the flames grow and then he added fresh wood and cupped his hands and soaked in the warmth as the fire crackled.
“Why are you here?” he said finally, still without turning.
“I was afraid he might be headed this way. I wanted to prepare you.”
“I can handle him just fine. He’s no different than any other detective.”
“He most certainly is. You sent for him, Ridley. You asked him in.”
“And you supported it. Suggested it, even.”
“I did, and I do now, but with much more caution. Much more. Because I see real risk. For the both of you.”
“What would you like me to do about that?”
“Challenge yourself,” she said.
He looked over his shoulder. “I’m not hurting for challenges.”
She nodded. “So you can bear another one, can’t you?”
He didn’t answer.
“You’re going to need to trust him first,” she said. “You’re going to need to be vulnerable with him, Ridley, in ways that you don’t like to be.”
He returned his attention to the fire. A blackened piece of ash went up in an orange glow and licked toward the front of the stove as if it had eyes on escape. He grabbed a rag to keep from burning his hand and pushed the stove door closed, sealing in the flames, then adjusted the damper so that the fire could exhale.
“I can keep my control around him,” he said. “That won’t be a problem.”
But he was thinking of Novak inside of Julianne’s house, invading that safe haven, and his hands opened and closed on the rag. She had suggested getting involved with Novak, and it made sense to recruit someone from the outside. Now he had his doubts. Even while she was exhorting him to show control, she was removing some of it from him.
“I’m simply telling you that he’ll need to be shown trust,” Julianne said. “If you can’t do that, then it may be better to send him away. If you still can.”
If you still can. There was an accusatory flavor to the statement, an indictment, and he wanted to whirl around and shout that it had been her idea in the first place. The tension that had been growing in him in recent days was reaching a high-water mark.
“I won’t need him if I can just get access to that cave,” he said.
“I know you’d like that. I also know that you have some fear related to that place.”
“That’s the wrong word.”
“It’s the word you use when you’re in a state of trance.”
Once again, he found himself disliking her. Trance had been an intriguing gambit once upon a time, and certainly they had reached interesting places and had fascinating conversations. Lately, though, he wondered if she believed she had more power over him than she truly did.
“Nothing will go wrong,” he said.
“Your subconscious disagrees. Your subconscious has disclosed, on multiple occasions, that you fear a return to Trapdoor will provoke a return to violence. That you may harm people.”
She said all of this flatly, as if reading information off his driver’s license. That was part of her approach with him, always had been — she listened to the discussion of violent deeds and the potential for worse and responded to them with detachment — but still, it unnerved him.
“I fear harming people?” he said, and he smiled in the firelight. “Well, that is troubling news, isn’t it?”
“It isn’t news to you. I came here because I wanted to tell you what had happened with Novak and tell you what I think.”
“Which is that I should trust him.”
“Yes.”
Ridley nodded, and the motion cast rippling shadows along the wall. “I’ve trusted you. With Novak, I am only willing to wait. He’s seen what he needs to see. There will be no further contact between you. Not until I’m convinced that he can, in fact, be trusted.”
“We’ve already agreed that—”
“What was agreed to has been done. What he does from here, we’ll just have to wait and see. He must come to me now. Not you. Only me.”
“That may be out of my control, Ridley. He could return. He could return with the police.”
“And you will send him away.” He turned from the stove to face her. “Is this understood?”
Her expression didn’t change. “I’ll send him away. Until you’re ready. And you will need to be ready.”
“I lack many things, Julianne. Readiness is not one of them.”
41
Mark drove to Trapdoor with air vents angled onto his face, blowing cold air into his eyes to help him stay alert. The road seemed to swim at times. Twice he looked at the GPS for guidance and realized that he’d never put in an address. He made the turns with confidence, though, as if the route were familiar.
The gate at the top of the drive was closed and locked. Mark left the car and walked down the slushy drive. The rain was beginning to mix with snow.
Cecil Buckner didn’t spot him this time, or if he did, he didn’t care to stop him. Mark made it all the way to the front door. When Danielle MacAlister opened it in response to his knock, her eyes went wide. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing’s the matter. I just need some help.”
“Well, get inside.”
Once he was inside, dripping water onto her hardwood floors, he realized that her concern wasn’t over his presence so much as his condition.
“I’m a little under the weather still,” he said.
“You look awful. Sit down.”
He sat on her leather sofa without removing his jacket. If there was a more comfortable couch in the world, he couldn’t imagine it. Lord, he was tired.
“Did Cecil let you in?” she said.
“I walked down.”
She didn’t seem pleased to hear that.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Coming in like this. But I need some help.”
She was looking at him with a mixture of sympathy and caution. “What can I do?”
“I need a copy of a map. One of the maps that Ridley drew.”
“Why?” She folded her arms over her breasts in a protective fashion, and Mark observed that she wasn’t wearing a bra and that she was in sweatpants and a T-shirt, and he wondered what time it was and why he didn’t know that.
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
“Do you need me to call someone, Mr. Novak? You don’t look well.”
“Just tired,” he said. “I’m on my way back to a hotel, but I needed to stop here first. I’d like to have a copy of one of those maps. I need to get a sense of where I was. At the time, in the dark, it was hard to get my bearings.”