3. Rory
CHAPTER 3
RORY
“Rory, wake up! Wake up, dammit!”
I jerked upright and gasped, my heart pounding. “Fuck, Grandfather.” I pressed a palm against my chest. “Did you have to yell so loud?” At least the neighbors couldn’t hear him.
“Yes, I did! You need to come with me right now!” His incorporeal form brightened and faded as he punctuated his words by jabbing a translucent pointer finger into my knee.
“Stop that! What’s the emergency?” Jerking my leg away, I rubbed my eyes and ran my hands through my hair.
Grandfather scowled. “I followed your uncle to another party. This one was at some billionaire’s house in River Oaks. Randolph Chamberlain,” he spat.
“Okay. Sounds like somewhere he’d want to go.” Uncle Hugo wasn’t a billionaire, but after he’d inherited all of Grandfather’s millions, he’d received plenty of invites to the homes of those who were.
Grandfather put his hands on his hips. “Those wastrels weren’t even talking business. I wanted to give you more stock tips.”
I rolled my eyes. “I told you, you don’t have to keep doing that.” Though I did appreciate the information he passed on to me. I used each and every tip, keeping my investments small enough so no one noticed when I kept making trades at exactly the right times.
I felt around on the floor for my shoes. I’d pretty much passed out on the couch as soon as I’d gotten home, and I was still wearing my dress shirt and suit pants. At least I’d taken off my tie.
“I’m mostly keeping tabs on your idiot uncle. And if I happen to learn something to benefit you, well, all the better. But that’s not why I’m here.”
Hoping he’d get to the point soon, I stood up and carried the shoes into my bedroom.
Grandfather followed. “Like I said, Hugo and his cronies were talking about some stupid nonsense, so I wandered around to see if there were any other more interesting conversations. That’s when I saw her.”
He paused, and I knew he was dying for me to ask. Better to just get it over with. “Saw who?” I tossed my shoes into the closet and started unbuttoning my shirt.
“The ghost!”
I didn’t roll my eyes, but it was close. “Grandfather, you see other ghosts all the time, and so do I.” Much to my everlasting irritation.
“Not like this ghost!” He zipped around to hover in front of me, startling me into backing up a step .
Fuck, he wasn’t going to leave until he told me his story. I sighed. “Okay, I’ll bite. What was so special about this ghost?” I looked around, but thankfully he didn’t seem to have brought her with him. Once a ghost meets you, it can show up anytime, anywhere. Those tales of salt keeping ghosts out are crap. Do you know how much salt is in the human body?
“She looked like a tree.” He crossed his arms and waited for my response.
I blinked. “Trees have ghosts?” I’d never run into one of those.
“No, no. In life she was a tree spirit. A dryad.”
“A dryad.” I dredged my brain for any related information. “Like, Greek myths?” I wasn’t sure I believed him, but on the other hand he’d never lied to me, even when he was alive.
He shrugged. “Not sure. When I first saw her, she had the form of a tree with a face, and she was standing behind that asshole Randolph Chamberlain, whacking him with her branches and yelling at him. But of course he couldn’t hear or feel her,” he added bitterly. Even after two years, Grandfather still hadn’t resigned himself to the limitations his new existence placed on him.
“Anyway, I went up and asked her what the hell she was.”
I winced. Grandfather had no tact.
“She changed so she looked like a human, and then she told me she was a dryad and Randolph Chamberlain was holding her daughter captive.”
“ What? Captive?” Now he had my full attention. I palmed my phone. This wouldn’t be the first anonymous tip I’d called in to the cops .
“Yes, and the little girl’s dying. The fucker doesn’t know exactly what she is, so he didn’t put a tree in her cage with her.” He began to pace. “Lorraine, the dryad, was killed trying to keep Chamberlain’s goons from getting her daughter. She showed me the room where he’s keeping her. That jackwaffle’s got the child in a glass enclosure on wheels. Like he rolls her out for his parties or some shit.”
“Fuck.” I got ready to dial 911. “How do I tell the cops where to find her?”
Grandfather put a chilly hand on my forearm. “You don’t. Didn’t you get the part where the kid’s a dryad? She’s not human. The cops can’t get hold of her; she’ll only end up in a different kind of cage.”
Well, shit. It was a valid point.
“You have to go in and get her.”
My mouth fell open. “Me?”
“Yes, you. Do you know any other Mediums I can ask? There’s still time to go to the party. Put on your monkey suit and I’ll talk you through how to get in. Lorraine says there are a couple more ghosts who’ll help."
"Fuck." I stared at the floor, trying to think of any other way to get the girl out. Any way not involving me. “How old is she?”
“Thirteen.”
My head shot up. Grandfather nodded, grim-faced. “Whatever you’re thinking, Lorraine’s worried about it too. Assuming the girl doesn’t die. I don’t know how long she has.”
“Fuck me.” I sighed again and reached for the tuxedo Grandfather had badgered me into buying. I’d never worn it before, but last year he’d gone on a rant saying I might need to go to a fancy party for work. One of his tips regarding a company on the verge of imploding had made me over five thousand dollars, so I’d thought it was little enough to do for him in return.
I hadn’t considered I’d need it for a jailbreak, though.
I got dressed, and on the way out the door I grabbed a granola bar, since I hadn’t had dinner. The girl and I would have to stop for food after I got her out of there.
Assuming dryads could eat fast food, that is.
Oh, and assuming I didn’t get caught.
I took the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. Luckily my parking spot was on the ground floor, so I didn’t have to wind through the parking garage to exit the building.
Grandfather popped into the passenger seat as I started my Range Rover. It was new, and I still didn’t know what’d possessed me to buy such a huge SUV. I only had one real friend to drive around.
“Grandfather, this car is nice, but it’s not on a level with the ones the other party guests will be driving. Plus, they’ll have a valet. I can’t make a quick getaway waiting on a valet to get my car.”
“Pfft. You’ll park around the corner. We’re going in through the servants’ entrance. Just head for River Oaks and I’ll show you where to go.”
I glared at him before focusing on the rear camera to make sure I could back out safely. “If we’re going in through the servants’ entrance, then why am I in a tuxedo?”
“Use your brain, Rory. It’s in case Chamberlain or one of his staff sees you. ”
Personally, I thought I’d stand out more in the servants’ area in my tux vs. in more casual clothes, but it was too late now, so I kept my mouth shut.
At ten o’clock at night, it took less than fifteen minutes to get to River Oaks from Midtown.
Grandfather directed me through a series of residential streets lined with grand homes. His house, where I’d lived for most of my teenage years, had been several miles to the west and about half the size of these. Still, he’d had enough River Oaks friends to know this area well.
He directed me to park against the curb where several other cars lined the street. This must be where the valets were stashing the guests’ vehicles. My Range Rover didn’t stand out as badly as I’d feared, but the huge lawns I’d have to cross would make it difficult to get back to the car unobserved.
I got out and shut the door quietly, wishing I had a weapon of some kind. The sounds of the party floated on the muggy air from the next street over. I swallowed, my throat dry. I was a finance guy, for fuck’s sake. I wasn’t Keanu Reeves.
But the girl. Fuck.
Grandfather pointed me up a nearby driveway. My dress shoes clacked on the concrete, and I hissed at him when a motion sensor triggered a spotlight.
“Bah, nobody’s home. Don’t worry about it.”
“What about security cameras?” I wished I’d worn a ski mask or something, except it would probably have just gotten me shot.
“I disabled them,” a deep voice said from somewhere in front of us .
I stifled a shriek and dropped to a crouch. “Who’s there?”
A ghost came toward us. A big ghost. A big wolf ghost.
Animals—land-based ones at least—didn’t generally end up as ghosts. The simpler the brain, the less likely to result in a ghost. And if you did see one, they didn’t talk.
“Uh, hi?”
The wolf shimmered and became human-shaped. I’d never seen a ghost do that before. He was still big, with bushy hair all over. All over. He wasn’t wearing any clothes in the afterlife.
Okay then. I kept my eyes firmly on his face.
He nodded at me and Grandfather. “Name’s Garfield. Lorraine sent me.” He tilted his head as he examined me skeptically. “I floated near all the cameras along this route and fried ‘em.”
“Oh, uh, thanks. I’m Rory.”
He nodded again, his eyes now scanning the darkness around us. “This way.” He led us through a gate into an empty back yard. We skirted the pool, and Garfield pointed me to a magnetic key box on the underside of a chaise lounge.
I used the key to unlock a gate on the back wall, and we were immediately faced with another gate, which was fortunately unlocked. The second one opened into the yard belonging to the party house. Chamberlain’s house. His pool was off to one side, and a putting green took up most of the rest of the space. Some shrubs were planted along the perimeter wall, but otherwise there wasn’t any cover. I’d be completely exposed getting to the house.
“Ready? ”
I locked the first gate and shut the second. “Um, how do you suggest I get to the house without being seen?”
Garfield scoffed. “This party’s full of rich assholes who act like they own the place. Just pretend you’re one of them. They won’t look at you twice.”
Good point. I dropped the gate key in my pocket and pulled out my phone. Straightening my spine and lifting my chin, I held my phone to my ear and strode confidently across the putting green toward the door Garfield indicated.
“How did you get here, Garfield?”
He spat toward the ground, though of course nothing landed. “I’m from Wyoming. Some asswipe sent a team of what looked like mercenaries in to capture my pack. Ten of us died, and five of us lived. Got me with a tranquilizer dart.” He spat again. “We were auctioned off. They put us on camera and shot us with tasers until we shifted. I ended up here, in the tender care of Randolph Chamberlain.” He snorted. “He didn’t dare have anyone else look after me, feed me, give me water, all that. But he also liked to go on long trips.” Garfield shrugged. “Coulda been a worse death.” He pressed his lips together. “I hope my packmates didn’t suffer.”
I couldn’t help my horrified gasp at Garfield’s terse recounting of his awful death, but I quickly schooled my expression into one more appropriate for my pretend billionaire persona.
We crossed the back patio, which was dotted with ceramic urns and planters of various sizes holding shrubs pruned into unlikely shapes.
I cleared my throat. “I wish I could just call their names to see if they’ve passed on, but my gift doesn’t work like that. I have to run into a ghost or have a ghost I know bring them to me before I can communicate with them. ”
Garfield gave me a stiff nod. “Understood.”
But there had to be a way to find his pack members. Or at least take down the people putting on these auctions. Surely if rich fuckwads were trafficking paranormal creatures, someone was tracking the rich fuckwads.
The door to the house was unlocked. I kept my phone to my ear and spoke loudly about KPIs, portfolios, currency adjustments, and yield fluctuations as I walked through the mudroom and the laundry room as if I did it all the time. I passed a few house staff in black and white uniforms. After giving me a double-take, they ignored me. Garfield floated ahead of me, and I resolutely kept my eyes trained at his shoulders. One glance at his hairy ass was enough.
We turned down a couple of corridors, and the sounds of the party grew fainter. We didn’t run into any other staff. The doors along the hallways were all shut, and these walls weren’t decorated with artwork.
We were almost at a T-junction when a ghost whipped around the corner straight into Garfield. “Chamberlain!” she shouted. “Go back! He’s coming!”
Fuck. I whirled, plowing right through Grandfather. I power-walked back the way I’d come, trying not to make any noise. “Are any of these doors unlocked?” I whispered.
“Don’t know,” Garfield said from behind me.
I didn’t dare try the handles for fear of the sound they might make.
The ghost woman—she didn’t look like a tree, more like a Valkyrie with her height and long blond hair—appeared ten feet ahead of me at the junction of another hallway. I was grateful she was wearing clothes—leather pants and a jean jacket over a t-shirt. She pointed to my right. I followed her around two more corners, then I was in a dead-end with three doors. I spun around, but she was looking back the way we’d come.
“They shouldn’t turn this way if they’re going back to the party,” she said.
Shouldn’t. Fuck.
Carefully I tried the door handles. Locked.
We heard voices and the clinking of ice in glasses. The woman and Garfield vanished, but Grandfather stayed by my side.
A man’s voice said, “I contacted my source, but they said they weren’t responsible for the health of the specimens after the sale was final.”
“What terrible customer service. They’re the only source, you said? I would love to get my hands on a specimen for myself.” He sighed. “Maybe next year after some investments come through.”
The men passed the hallway leading to my hiding spot.
The first man said, “Perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement. I find I require assistance keeping the specimens alive.” The voices trailed away.
My mouth fell open. I met Grandfather’s eyes, and his snarling face told me I was right.
Uncle Hugo.
Randolph Chamberlain had taken him to see the captive dryad girl, and Uncle Hugo wanted one for himself.