Chapter 10
TEN
As irritated as I was that Galen and Booker were going without me, part of me knew it was for the best. I couldn’t cross over to save Wesley yet. I needed to know more about what I was dealing with.
Plus, well, I was the mayor. I had a job to do and I had every intention of doing it.
Marjory smiled when I walked into the office, the best greeting that I’d received from her in the past few weeks. I smiled in return, went to my office to drop off my bag, then returned to her desk. I was determined to turn this relationship thaw into a long summer stretch.
“So, how are you?” I asked as I sat down across from her.
If Marjory was surprised I suddenly wanted to be chummy, she didn’t show it. “I’m well. How are you?” She didn’t wait for me to answer. “How are the wedding plans coming?”
The wedding was a sore subject. Marjory wanted to take over and turn it into an overblown affair.
Galen and I wanted to keep it simple. Despite Galen warning his mother that we would be making the decisions, Marjory kept trying to sneak in food and flower suggestions.
I didn’t take it personally — it was simply her personality — but Galen was another story.
“It’s going well,” I replied. “We’re going to have a seafood bar and steak.”
Marjory frowned. “That sounds like a lot of food.”
“I want seafood and Galen wants steak. We need to compromise.”
“Oh, well … that sounds like a good compromise.” She faked a smile that was more of a grimace. “Who is going to stand up for you, Lilac or Aurora?”
I shrugged. “In theory Lilac, but I’m not sure we’re going to do it like that,” I said. “The wedding will be so small that it makes more sense for everybody to stand up.”
Marjory’s eye twitched. “Are you sure you don’t want to go all out? You are the mayor.”
“Being mayor has been surprisingly fulfilling,” I replied, “but I only want the people we love there.”
“That is your choice.” Marjory looked away. “Are you inviting Julian to attend?”
Ah. This was what she was really interested in. I should have seen it coming. “Probably.” I worked to keep my voice breezy. “He and Galen are bonding. It’s slow going, but I think they’re going to be okay.”
“Galen should not bond with him.”
“Why not?”
“Because … he just shouldn’t. Julian is not family.”
Marjory was tough to deal with on a normal day. She was playing defense of late. Not because Julian was Galen’s half-brother; that wasn’t her fault. Her husband had the wandering eye. She’d known about it, and that’s what Galen was especially bitter about.
“Marjory, you can’t keep Galen and Julian apart.” I was matter of fact, no give to my tone. “I’m not saying that they’ll be the best of friends, but I do think they’ll be in each other’s lives. You need to be all right with that.”
“Who says I’m not?” Marjory drew herself up ramrod straight in her chair. “I’m fine.”
“You have a face that expresses every emotion,” I countered. “Don’t feel bad. I’m the same way. Galen jokes that there was a reason they never gave me a speaking role in my elementary school plays. I can’t act. I can only be me.”
Marjory looked me up and down. “That sounds … pretty on brand for you. Did you also get in trouble for talking constantly in school?”
“Yup.”
She smirked. “I’m not surprised. Galen wasn’t much of a talker when left to his own devices. When he got with Booker and the others, he got into the occasional speck of trouble.”
“I can see that.”
She met my even gaze, more thoughtful than manipulative for a change. “I’m afraid for Galen,” she announced. “I don’t trust Julian. His father wasn’t trustworthy—”
“You mean your husband?”
She ignored the dig. “His mother definitely wasn’t trustworthy,” she continued.
“Because she slept with your husband?”
Marjory’s gaze was as dark as they come. “I’m looking after my son,” she insisted.
“He’s a man. You need to let him make his own decisions.”
She sighed. “It’s not easy. I had specific plans for him.”
“That’s why he does his own thing. He gets his stubbornness from you.”
It wasn’t a compliment and yet Marjory smiled. Then she turned to business. “Are you all right being cut out of the hunt for Wesley?”
I shook my head. “Not remotely. They won’t find him.”
“You think you have to go through the door again,” Marjory guessed. Now she was frowning for a different reason.
I nodded. There was no point in lying. “I don’t see another way out of this. We have to be smart this time though.”
“Smart how?”
I shrugged. “Research.”
“Well, let me know if I can help.”
“Thank you.” I stood.
“Collette Crawley is your first appointment this morning,” she announced.
That name meant nothing to me.
“She believes that her neighbor has nuclear weapons in his basement and she wants you to smite him,” Marjory explained.
“Nuclear weapons?”
She held out her hands. “Larry Gordon is a prepper. He does have a lot of strange stuff in his basement.”
“I’m sure none of it is nuclear,” I countered.
“Who’s to say?” Marjory smiled and then went back to working on her computer.
I went to the magically warded filing cabinets against the wall and studied them for a moment.
They were compiled by the DDA, whose members had been ousted from power.
There were a lot of secrets in these files — some that people would kill to ensure never got out — but I’d warded the cabinets so no one could sneak in and look through them.
Marjory wasn’t allowed to look through them either. She was only slightly bitter about it.
“What are you looking for?” Marjory asked from her desk.
“Is there a serial killer section?” It was a weird question, but I didn’t know how else to ask.
“Because of what you saw on the other plane?” Marjory left her desk and moved closer to me. “Do you think whoever is over there came from here?”
“Clive’s tableau felt like it was ripped straight out of a Criminal Minds episode,” I replied. “Or even that weird show Hannibal, which was completely homoerotic and yet had me getting hot and bothered for a serial killer.”
“I have no idea what that means,” Marjory said blandly.
“It doesn’t matter.” I waved her off. “I’m wondering if there was ever a serial killer on the island.”
“Sixty years ago, Mo Whitman blew up his wife and sister-in-law in a cabin,” Marjory offered.
“That’s not a serial killer. A serial killer has multiple victims but not from the same act. Someone who kills multiple people during the same event is a spree killer. Serial killers are normally highly organized and like to stalk their victims.”
“Do you think Clive was stalked?”
“The only thing I know is that it felt as if Clive’s body had been strung up that way to cause maximum damage. The killer wanted me to be upset when I saw it.”
“But why?” Marjory made a face. “You had no love for Clive.”
“He was ripped apart.”
“It’s not as if he didn’t have it coming.”
“You’re all heart,” I teased Marjory.
“He tried to kill my son.” Marjory’s countenance darkened. “I don’t harbor love for a man who wants to kill my child.”
“Good point.” We were getting off track. “Did you ever have a serial killer on the island?”
“Not that I can think of. There may have been one before the island embraced law and order.” Marjory thought for a bit. “There’s no way to access that information that I know of, but we might have had one person who fit the bill.”
She had my full interest now. “Who?”
“Look for the name Declan Wilkes.”
I went to that drawer and looked. There was a file. “Who is he?” I asked as I removed it.
“He was a very bad boy.” Marjory’s forehead creased. “Read the file. Then we’ll discuss.”
It was obvious she didn’t want to talk about this. I was fine reading the file and having her plug the holes. I started toward my office, then paused. “Just one thing.”
Marjory slid her eyes to me and waited.
“Is Declan still on this island?”
“Nobody knows what happened to Declan. He disappeared twenty years ago.”
“He just disappeared?”
“Yes. I’m sure it’s in the file.”
She really didn’t want to talk about this. “Well, then I guess I’ll get to it.” I headed toward my office. “Send in Colette when she gets here.” Now I frowned. “Any tips on how to deal with her?”
“Not really. No matter what you do, she won’t be happy. She’s like one of those little yippy dogs who humps your leg one second and bites your ass the next.”
I blinked at the crudity of her example. “I’ve never had a yippy dog.”
“Well, then aren’t you in for a treat?” Marjory’s eyes sparkled.
“I’m looking forward to meeting her.”
Marjory barked out a laugh. “Yes. Everyone loves Colette. I’m sure you’ll be champing at the bit to have a second sit down with her just as soon as the first is finished.”
I MANAGED TO GET A DECENT WAY THROUGH Declan’s file — and what a creepy creeper he was — before Colette pranced into my office.
She was what I called a light stepper. There was something about the way she carried herself.
Perhaps it was the ridiculously high heels.
Or maybe it was the pink velour tracksuit that had to be absolutely stifling in this weather.
Perhaps it was that she paired them together.
Either way, I knew the second I saw her that I wasn’t going to like her.
The fact that she brought a PowerPoint presentation to prove her point didn’t help.
“So, as you can see, my conclusion is obviously correct,” Colette said, wrapping up an hour after she’d started. “Larry is obviously planning for the end of the world and we have to stop him before he reaches his goal.”
I was flummoxed. “How does the fact that he hoards beans make him the enemy?”
Colette shot me a testy look. “He hoards much more than beans.”
“Yes, but the beans are what stuck in my head,” I admitted. “I keep picturing the campfire scene in Blazing Saddles.”
“I don’t know what that is,” Colette countered.