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“But only one…I need two.”
“Can I help you with something, Madeline?” The clerk, obviously displeased, let out a put-upon sigh as she reluctantly slid off her stool, its legs scratching against the wood floor. The cat, disturbed, leapt onto a highboy from where it peered down imperiously.
Madeline? Becca stared at the old woman, who stared back. “You look like one of them,” the old woman whispered.
“Madeline,” the clerk reproved.
“One of who?” Hudson was just stepping through the front door.
Madeline’s head snapped up and she viewed Hudson with a furtive glare as he wove his way between the displays to stand next to Becca.
“Siren Song,” she whispered.
“Are you Madame Madeline?” Becca asked.
“Maddie!” The clerk was heading their way.
Instead of answering, Madeline placed her twisted fingers on Becca’s abdomen, then shrank away, quickly sketching a sign of the cross over her chest, then shuffling to the door.
“Did she take that button? Damn it!” The clerk stamped a small booted foot. “She always does that!” She started for the door, but Madeline was gone, through the door and hurrying off. “I should call the police, but for the most part she’s harmless.”
Becca was unnerved that she’d touched her abdomen. “Who is she?”
“Oh, yeah, she calls herself Madame Madeline. She pretends to be a psychic. She’s a town fixture, lived here all her life.”
“And what did she mean by Siren Song?” Hudson asked.
“It’s a tract of land run by…well, some locals. They mostly keep to themselves. The property is valuable, it stretches from the mountains on the east side of 101 and across the highway to the ocean. They’re this clannish group, like a colony, some even say cultish. Different, you know. All related.”
“Colony?” Hudson asked.
She smiled then and took a long look at Becca. “I see what Maddie means, though, you do resemble them…a little.”
“Them?” Becca felt a little weak in the knees. What the hell was all this? Maddie placing her hand over Becca’s stomach as if she knew she was pregnant, and then this talk of resembling members of a-cult?
“I’m not related,” she said firmly.
The woman didn’t argue with her, but did add, “This is the second time in the last few months that someone has asked about Siren Song. I’ve owned this shop for six and a half years. Before that I worked in one of the spas that closed, and I can go for months without anyone mentioning Siren Song, maybe years, but lately…Oh, well.” She straightened the little case of buttons that Madeline had pawed through.
“Who asked about Siren Song?” Hudson wanted to know.
“A visitor in the town. Can’t remember her name.” The shopkeeper frowned, thinking hard, her fingers frozen over the buttons. “Oh. Yes. It was that dark-haired young woman. The one who was killed when her car went off the cliff just north of here.”
“Renee Trudeau?” Hudson asked.
Becca’s heart did a nosedive.
“Yes.” The shopkeeper brightened, proud of herself. “That’s her name!”
Mac had had enough of the beach. He’d spent the whole day trying to figure out what kind of “fun” thing he and his son could do together. They’d made an attempt at crabbing, but Levi wasn’t really into it. Now the sun was sinking into the horizon and storm clouds were just about to block it out completely. A glacial wind was trying its best to rip his coat from him. Levi was bundled in a hat and coat and all Mac could see were his nose and mouth. They were both frozen and trying to act like they were having a good time.
The Tillamook County Sheriff’s Department knew nothing more than they had the first time Mac had visited them. Mac got the feeling they wanted him to disappear and let them work their investigation in their own way. He didn’t blame them. He didn’t like interference, either.
So he’d taken the hint and brought Levi into Deception Bay with the thought of hanging out with his son, but the weather was sure as hell making that a dicey proposition. He was trying to think what he could come up with, some kind of entertainment they could both enjoy, when his cell phone buzzed. He saw it was Gretchen and was almost grateful for the intrusion.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“A helluva lot, actually. Maybe you should leave town more often and let the rest of us do your work for you.”
