"Shit," the man whispered. "Some guy is coming this way. Doesn't move like a hunter, but I think he's got night vision."
"Must be the one they call Walker. Everyone says he's a nut."
"Crazy or not, he's seen us. Want me to take him out?"
"Yes," the woman said. "Hurry. But make it clean. No blood. No evidence. We'll dump the body in the ocean off the Point. He's a known crazy. Everyone will think he jumped."
"A broken neck will fit that scenario."
The man plunged toward Walker, tearing through the trees like a big hunting cat intent on bringing down a deer.
Walker did not move. He knew his special vision would protect him.
The attacker pulled up sharply a couple of yards away. He turned on his heel, searching the trees.
"Lost him," he snarled. "The bastard is good. Never even saw him move."
Because I didn't move, Walker thought.
"Find him," the woman ordered. "He's seen both of us."
"He's not here, I'm telling you. He got away."
"A talent of some kind," the woman said. "All right, let's get out of here. I need to think."
They scrambled into the front seat of the SUV. The engine roared to life. The headlights came up. The heavy vehicle wheeled back onto the road and sped off, heading toward the highway.
Walker stood guard until dawn but the intruders did not return. When the sun rose, he walked back into town. The muffins were sitting on a plastic plate on top of the trash can lid behind the Sunshine, as usual. He could hear Marge rattling pots and pans in the kitchen.
He thought about talking to Marge. But it wouldn't do any good to tell her what had happened. She would not know what to do. No one else in town would know what to do, either. The only one who could handle the problem of the intruders was Fallon Jones.
There was no way around it, Walker concluded. He would have to wait until Jones returned to the Cove. He had overheard Marge tell one of the regulars that Fallon and Isabella were due back this morning. In the meantime, he would take his bath in the hot springs out at the Point and do his daily meditation. The waters of the hot springs always calmed him and his head always felt more clear after a couple of hours of meditation.
He could usually sleep after the bath and meditation ritual. By the time he woke up Fallon Jones would be back in town. Jones would know what to do.
AT NINE O'CLOCK, his inner agitation temporarily soothed by the waters of the spring and the meditation ritual, he walked back to his cabin to sleep for an hour or two.
The music of the waltz invaded his fevered dreams. He awoke, the anxiety slamming back as it always did. The pressure in his head was excruciating this time. He managed to get out of bed and stagger down the hall to the small living room.
The music grew louder and more relentless. He thought his skull might explode.
He collapsed on the rug. The violent energy of the waltz carried him off into the night.
31
Marge folded her elbows on the counter and gave Isabella an expectant look.
"Well?" she said. "Did you have a good time at the ball, Cinderella?"
Isabella sipped her tea and swiveled slowly from side to side on the stool while she considered her answer.
"It was very exciting," she said, choosing her words with care.
"Any pictures?" Marge asked.
"No, to be honest, I didn't even think about taking pictures."
"Darn."
The bell over the door chimed. Violet and Patty walked into the cafe, raincoats dripping.
"We came for a full report," Violet announced. "Are there pictures?"
Isabella set down her mug. "I was just explaining to Marge that there are no photos. To tell you the truth, things got a little complicated down in Sedona. This guy broke into my room and tried to bribe me to make it look as if I was on the take and Fallon had to beat him up. Then we went to Cactus Springs to check out my grandmother's trailer and another guy showed up who convinced us to help him find an old artifact. When I located the artifact, he tried to kill Fallon, and Fallon had to beat him up, too, and then we came home."
Marge, Violet and Patty exchanged looks.
Marge frowned at Isabella. "That's it?"
"Pretty much," Isabella said.
"Gee," Violet said. "Guess that's the last time we let you and Fallon go off on a romantic getaway trip."
Marge shook her head. "I can't believe it. We send the two of you off to a glamorous ball with a beautiful gown and glass slippers, and you and Fallon end up getting attacked?"
"The best part is that I found out my grandmother is alive, but I can't contact her yet because it might put her in jeopardy."
Violet looked blank. "I thought you said your grandmother was dead?"
"Fallon is sure she is okay. She's gone underground until we wrap up the case."
Marge's brows rose. "Your grandmother sounds like a very interesting woman."
"She is," Isabella assured her. "All in all, it was a very busy trip, but it's good to be home."
"You can take the girl out of Scargill Cove but you can't take the Cove out of the girl," Patty said. "Welcome home, Cinderella."
"Thanks," Isabella said. "If it's any consolation, I can tell you that Fallon looked great in a tux."
Marge smiled. "I'd have paid good money to see Jones in a tux."
"Worth every penny, trust me," Isabella said.
Violet laughed.
Marge snorted and straightened. She looked at Patty and Violet. "You two want coffee?"
"Of course," Patty said.
She plunked herself down on one of the stools. Violet hopped up onto another one.
Marge went to the coffee machine.
"Anyone seen Walker today?" Isabella asked.
"The muffins are gone," Marge said. "So he must have come by on his morning rounds."
"He's probably at the hot springs," Violet said. "He spends a lot of time there during the daylight hours. Why?"
"I don't know," Isabella said. "For some reason, I've been thinking about him a lot this morning."
Marge poured coffee into two mugs. "Don't worry, he'll show up sooner or later."
Isabella slipped off the stool. "I'm going to the grocery store to collect the mail. But first, I'll drop by Walker's place and see if he's there. Maybe he's ill."
"Just be sure you don't do anything to startle him," Marge warned.
"I'll be careful," Isabella promised.
She slipped into her yellow raincoat, collected her umbrella and went outside onto the street. She paused briefly and looked up at the window of Jones & Jones. Fallon was not visible. She knew that he was probably at the computer, phone to his ear, multitasking as he searched for a trace of the person who had supplied the Quicksilver Mirror to Sloan.