Part 2 (1/2)

”We won't be helping her by getting her throat slit,” Roy said. ”I can tell you right now, we're outgunned on this one.”

”I jumped in the River,” Steven said, ”as you were starting your trance. I smelled something so bad I had to jump back out.”

”It's demonic,” Roy said. ”I'll have to call Dixon, see if he knows someone who can help us.”

”What,” Steven said, ”like a priest?”

”I doubt it,” Roy said. ”I don't think a priest would know what to do with this thing. Probably just get her killed.”

”What about June?” Steven said. ”We can't just leave her hanging. We need to know she's alright.”

”You can call her,” Roy said. ”Tell her we're reconsidering if we can help or not. I don't want her even thinking we'll be back. It's too dangerous for her. And don't tell her that, either. No sense in worrying the poor woman even more.”

”She'll be worried that we're not going to help her,” Steven said. ”Either way, she'll worry.”

”Until we know what we're dealing with,” Roy said, ”I'd rather have her thinking we're out of the picture. I'm serious about this, son. I know you want to calm her nerves, but if she starts thinking or saying we're still going to help, it might get her killed.”

”OK,” Steven said. ”I'll be careful.”

”Jesus Christ, what have we gotten ourselves into?” Roy said, leaning back in his seat and taking a long exhale. He turned to look out the window as the houses went by.

Steven jumped off the boat and helped guide Dixon into the slip. He and Roy had gone to see Dixon at his boat in Ballard, and Dixon had suggested they visit someone who lived in Gig Harbor. Then Dixon had insisted on taking them across the sound to meet the person he'd recommended.

”She's up that hill, house at the top,” Dixon said as Roy stepped off the boat. He handed Roy a card. ”Here's her name and address,” Dixon said. ”Be nice to her, 'cause you need her help. But don't let her bully you.”

Bully you? Steven thought. With Roy, it was usually the other way around.

”You'll wait here for us?” Roy asked Dixon.

”I'll be here,” he said, knocking out his pipe and refilling it. ”Just don't take all day.”

”Alright,” Roy said, joining Steven and beginning the march up the hill from the marina. They pa.s.sed several marine shops, which turned to tourist gift shops after another block.

”Always liked this place,” Steven said. ”Very picturesque.”

”Full of sn.o.bs,” Roy said. ”Worse than Mercer Island.” Steven knew better than to argue with him. Arguing over these types of things with Roy never ended well.

They walked in silence up the hill as the gift shops gave way to homes. As they reached the top, they began checking house numbers.

”1057,” Steven said. ”It's the next one.”

They both glanced up at the next house, an old three story gothic mansion from the late 19th century. It looked right out of a horror movie, except it was well cared for and was surrounded by flowers. They walked up to the front door and pressed the doorbell. Above the doorbell was a tiny sign that read: ”No solicitors or missionaries.”

A tall, thin woman in her mid-thirties opened the door. She was dressed in a cla.s.sic maid uniform, something Steven hadn't seen outside of television. She invited them in.

”We're here to see Mrs. Judith Duke,” Roy said. ”I think she's expecting us.”

”Please follow me,” the maid said, escorting them into a small room just inside the entryway. There were several chairs and sofas in the room, and several cases of books on the walls. ”Would you wait here while I inform Mrs. Duke that you've arrived?”

”Of course,” Roy said. The maid pulled the door closed behind them.

”Fancy place,” Steven said, looking at a marble bust on a shelf.

”I wonder if she earned it,” Roy said, ”or if she inherited it. Dixon said she's the best he knows on the subject. Maybe you should let me do the talking?”

”When do I not?” Steven asked, continuing to admire the objects in the room.

The door opened again, and the maid said, ”Mrs. Duke is ready to see you. Would you both please follow me?”

They followed the maid as she led them upstairs to a room on the second floor. ”Mrs. Duke is a little incapacitated today, and doesn't have the strength for the stairs, so she'll be seeing you in the upstairs sitting room. If you wouldn't mind limiting your visit so as to not tire her excessively.”

”Of course,” Roy said.

”Mr. Roy Hall and Mr. Steven Hall,” the maid said as they entered the dark sitting room. At the far end was Mrs. Judith Duke, reclining on a daybed. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a state of perfection. Her skin was dark and wrinkled, the result of years of sun exposure, and the lower half of her body was under a blanket. From her daybed, she had a view out a large window that overlooked the front yard.

”I saw you come up from my nest here,” she said, pointing to the window. ”Forgive me for not getting up, but these old bones can't manage it today.”

Roy and Steven approached the daybed and shook her hand, which was frail and delicate. Steven could feel each bone in her hand as he touched her. ”Nice to meet you,” he said as he released her hand.

”Likewise,” she said, glancing up at him for a moment, and then returning her eyes to the window. ”You came in Dixon's boat. I watched you arrive.”

”We did indeed,” said Roy. ”We left from Ballard.”

”Dixon is a wonderful man,” she said, letting her head tilt slightly to one side as she said it. Given what Steven knew about Dixon's reputation for exploits, he wondered if Judith Duke was one of the many ladies he'd romanced over the years.

”I don't normally see people these days,” she said, ”but if Dixon says I need to see you both, then I don't doubt there's a good reason.”

”We've encountered something troubling,” Roy said, ”and we need the advice of someone who has expertise. I've encountered something like it before, but this is different.”

”Ah,” she said. ”That old game. There are many people out there who consider me an expert on many things - it's true. But if you don't come to the point, you might exhaust me before I can do anything to help you.”

Roy seemed a little taken back, so Steven jumped in. ”There is a woman we were trying to help, in Seattle,” Steven said. ”There was something threatening her, upset at our presence in her home. We were only trying to figure out if her home was haunted, but whatever it was threatened to kill her if we remained there. My father felt it was out of our depth.”

”Really?” She asked, turning her head from the window to face them. ”How do you know that?”

”He felt it was demonic,” Steven said. ”And I felt something evil when I was there. Neither of us know much about that side of things.”

”Roy, would you bring me that gla.s.s cruet on the table over there?” she said, waving to the opposite wall. ”And three gla.s.ses?”

Roy retrieved the items, and placed them on the table next to the daybed, where Judith began to pour, filling each gla.s.s.

”None for me, thank you,” Steven said.

”It's not spirits, my dear, if that's what you're thinking,” Judith said, replacing the stopper on the cruet and handing a gla.s.s to Roy. ”It's something we're going to need if we're to keep discussing this.” Roy took the gla.s.s from her hand, and she pa.s.sed another gla.s.s to Steven. Once they all had a gla.s.s, she raised hers with a small salute, and they all shot the drink. Steven and Roy placed their empty gla.s.ses on the table next to the cruet.

”I'm guessing that was some kind of protection?” Roy said.

”Incredibly astute,” she said with a tone that made it hard to detect if it was sarcasm. ”I'm looking forward to your next observation.”