AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’ve never heard of either of those novels,” Talia said, as if that explained something very important.
“Exactly how many authors of twisty, creepy thrillers infused with an element of modern Gothic horror can you name?” Pallas asked.
“Not many,” Talia admitted. “None, now that I think of it. I was never a fan of scary books and haven’t read any at all in that genre since Lucent Springs. They make me nervous.”
“Me, too. Look, his name recognition and online branding are not critical factors here. What is important is that he is who he claims to be—Ambrose Drake, author. I found some video interviews and photos of him online. The man I met today is definitely the same person.”
Strictly speaking, that was only partially true. Yes, the photos and videos had captured Drake’s intriguing features. But it was clear they had all been recorded before the exhaustion and weight loss had struck. None of them had done justice to his haunted and haunting eyes.
Astonishingly, the images had managed to convey some sense of the tempered steel will and the self-control that, in person, charged the atmosphere around him. Somehow you just knew that if you were wounded and left behind on the battlefield, this was the man who would come back for you or die trying.
No, she could not be sure of that, she told herself. There was no way to predict how he would act in a crisis. She knew almost nothing about Ambrose Drake except that he was inexplicably fascinating. And exhausted. And determined to find answers. And he needed a good meal. And a good night’s sleep.
She closed her eyes very tightly for a few seconds and gave herself a silent lecture on the risks of allowing her imagination to get the better of her common sense. Yes, there was something about Drake that suggested he would be relentless when it came to pursuing an objective, but that quality could easily be adapted to revenge or building a criminal empire. Determination was a superpower, but like any power, it could be used for bad ends.
“All right, so Ambrose Drake is the writer he claims to be,” Talia said. “That just tells us he’s got a day job. A lot of serial killers and scammers are gainfully employed.”
Pallas opened her eyes and braced one hand against the window frame. It was a little after five o’clock in the afternoon. Four floors below, the bustling main street of Carnelian was lightly crowded with a mix of shopkeepers closing up for the day, office workers heading home or into their favorite after-work hangouts, and students drifting into coffeehouses and fast-food restaurants.
There were alotof students. Carnelian College was a small, private institution, but it occupied a large chunk of real estate in the center of town, and it appeared to be the primary economic engine of the community.
“You’ve made your point,” Pallas said. “I do think he’s convinced his story is true, but he might be just another deluded conspiracy theorist.”
“Why so quick to believe him?” Talia asked. “That’s not like you. What happened to thetrust no onemotto?”
“Something bad went down in that asylum,” Pallas said.
“It was a hospital for the insane. I’m sure a lot of terrible things happened there.”
“I told you, what I sensed was recent. The energy was still very disturbed. According to Drake, whatever happened on that staircase is connected to another possible murder at the local sleep clinic.”
“That hethinkshe witnessed,” Talia said.
“Well, he admits he did not see the actual act, but he’s convinced a woman was killed there.” Pallas paused a beat. “I did a drawing of the asylum stairs.”
“Excellent,” Talia said, doing one of her disconcerting about-faces. She was now enthusiastic. “What did you see in the picture?”
“Not much.” Pallas turned away from the window and moved to the small table. Her sketchbook was open to the drawing that had sent her running for the exit in the asylum. “I need more context.Another reason for meeting Drake this evening. He claims to have an object that he found at the scene. He thinks it’s evidence of murder. He promised to show it to me.”
“He’s using whatever it is as bait to get you to come to the meeting.”
“He said it was more like bribery, but yes, it’s bait, and it’s working.”
Talia said quietly, “You’re sure that what you sensed on the staircase happened recently?”
“It’s not last-night hot, but the energy was definitely laid down within the past few weeks. I think. I’m getting better at being able to calculate the age of the storms, but it’s a steep learning curve.”
“I understand,” Talia said. There was some sympathy in her tone this time. “Amelia and I struggling, too.”
“I know.”
“The thing is, you must not lose sight of the possibility that Ambrose Drake knows about the death because he was the killer.”
“If that’s the case, why try to get us to investigate?”
“Because he’s a sociopath who likes to play games? Don’t forget what happened in Saltwood.”
“Trust me, I remember,” Pallas said. “But I don’t think Drake was playing games today. He was testing me, running an experiment to see if I picked up the vibe on the stairs. It was annoying, but I must admit I understand why he did it. In his shoes, I’d want some proof, too.”
