Unmarked Graves Page 23

  He blinked, looking a little surprised at her request…a surprise that quickly morphed into dawning comprehension. “Sure, sweetheart. You know where it is?”

  “Down the hall, I think.” Rosemary handed him her glass and gave him a feather-light kiss on the cheek, not heavy enough to leave any of her lipstick on his skin. “I’ll be back in a jif.”

  She turned away and headed toward the powder room, heart pounding even though she tried to reassure herself that this was all going to be fine, that no one had noticed either one of them yet. Or at least, while she’d been the recipient of several smiles as she passed, she knew it was just because people were being generally friendly and not because anyone had recognized her or thought there was anything out of place about her actions.

  Of course, the powder room was occupied. She held back a curse and continued to the other bathroom, the one opposite the family room. To her relief, no one was inside, so she went in and closed the door but didn’t lock it. After all, she needed to make sure that whoever came here next could get in without any trouble. Leaving behind a locked bathroom with no one in it was sure to attract attention.

  She didn’t stop to think about what she was about to do. That seemed like the quickest way to psych herself out of the whole thing. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to pause to ponder how she was acting like it was no big deal to vanish herself from one spot, only to appear in another. Maybe once this was all over, she’d be able to sit down and process everything that had happened during the past twenty-four hours or so, but now was definitely not the time. Onward and upward.

  Here goes nothing, she thought, and sent herself upstairs.

  Will stood in his corner and did his best to act nonchalant, as though there was nothing terribly strange about him loitering there, a champagne flute in either hand. But then, to the casual observer, there probably wouldn’t be. Anyone who’d been paying any attention at all would’ve overheard Rosemary saying that she needed to go to the bathroom. Most of the men attending the party had probably been put in a similar position by their significant others at one point in their relationship.

  No, it was more that he knew Rosemary wasn’t powdering her nose or doing anything quite so innocuous. It was all he could do to prevent himself from glancing up toward the ceiling, as though he could somehow see through all those inches of plaster and lath to spy on what she was doing on the floor above him.

  He was slightly relieved to note that none of the Underhill Trust half-demons — and he’d recognized several of them at the party, thanks to the photos and information Fred Peñasco had sent him — appeared to have given him a second glance. Rosemary’s little spell seemed to be working, and thank God for that. If forced to a confrontation, he would do what he needed to, but Will had to admit it was unnerving to be standing here on his own. Funny how he’d come to rely on her amazing gifts after such a short amount of time.

  “Enjoying yourself?” came a voice from over his shoulder, and he startled, nearly slopping some champagne on his hand from Rosemary’s glass, since it was more filled than his own.

  Will looked over to see an older man, probably in his late sixties, standing a few feet away. No one he recognized, he saw at once, and he did his best to get his heartbeat down to a more normal level. “It’s a very nice party,” he replied honestly. And it was. The champagne was excellent, and what he’d seen of the hors d’oeuvres seemed to indicate they were both varied and plentiful. His own church had hosted some of its own fundraisers in the past, but they’d never had the kind of budget Daniel Lockwood apparently had at his disposal.

  “You’re not from around here,” the man said, and once again, Will experienced a start of panic. However, he did his best to offer the stranger a confident smile.

  “No,” he said easily. “My wife” — he held up the champagne flute, as if to explain her absence — “went to DePauw and found out about the fundraiser from a friend of hers. She thought it would be nice to give back to the community, so here we are.”

  The man nodded. “Wonderful college. We’re lucky to have it.” He added, “I’m Sam Mackenzie, by the way. Vice president at the same bank as Daniel.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Will said, inwardly thanking providence that the entire management of the bank wasn’t staffed by demons. That would have made this conversation a lot more awkward. “I’d shake hands, but — ”

  Sam chuckled. “I understand. Anyway, I’m just making the rounds and wanted to say welcome. Be sure to say hello to Daniel if you get the chance. He’s always happy to see alumni come back and participate in our events here in Greencastle.”

  “Oh, definitely,” Will replied. Of course, he knew he was going to do everything in his power to avoid Daniel Lockwood and the rest of his cabal, but it wouldn’t have been very politic to say such a thing out loud. “Once my wife gets back and reclaims her champagne, we’ll start to wander.”

  “Good to hear.” Sam nodded at Will and then headed back toward the dining room, and Will allowed himself an inner sigh of relief.

  All right, Rosemary, he thought. Whatever you’re doing…better hurry.

  The master bedroom seemed more lavish in reality than it had in her vision. Rosemary allowed herself a quick glance around at the dark, traditional furniture — purchased from Ethan Allen, or someplace even more expensive? — at the coordinating blue silk curtains and comforter, at the dark-framed pictures on the wall. Landscapes, most of them, all oil paintings, all original. It looked like a movie set rather than a place where people actually lived.

  Well, so does the rest of the house, she thought as she made herself go over to the large dresser. It was topped by a three-paneled mirror, and she caught a glimpse of herself in it, looking far more chic than she probably ever had before. Her face was pale, though, or at least, she thought she appeared a bit peaked, despite the heavy evening makeup she wore.

  Or maybe that was just her guilty conscience.

  She tried to tell herself there was no need to feel guilty. After all, she was only in here to take back something that had been stolen from her…or at least, stolen from Colin Turner. But since he wasn’t around to take action and protect his property, she had to take care of the situation for him.

  Still, she had to stand in front of the dresser for a few seconds to steel herself to open the drawer and reach inside. Thank God her inner vision had told her to look in the top right drawer, so she wouldn’t have to waste time searching the entire enormous piece of furniture.

  Wrapping a fold of her skirt around her finger so she wouldn’t leave any prints, she took hold of the heavy brass handle and pulled open the drawer. Just as she’d seen in her mind’s eye, it was full of small leatherette and velvet cases, no doubt each one with its own expensive trinket. For a demon, Daniel Lockwood seemed to do a pretty good job of pampering his wife. Or maybe it was only that he’d bought her the jewelry because that was what was expected of a man in his position.

  No time to worry about it now. Still with her skirt protecting her fingertips, she reached in and pushed two jewelry cases aside and grabbed hold of the hard drive. Just as she was rearranging the boxes so it wouldn’t look as though the contents of the drawer had been disturbed, a woman’s voice carried over to her, clear and sharp.

  “What are you doing in there?”

  Rosemary whirled, inadvertently slamming the dresser drawer shut with her hip. Standing in the doorway of the master suite was the same woman she’d seen in her vision the day before. Daniel Lockwood’s wife…Caleb’s mother.

  She was somewhere in her fifties — probably late fifties, if Caleb had been telling the truth about being twenty-nine — but her fair skin was smooth and taut, her highlighted dark hair thick and plentiful. Looking at her even, elegant features, Rosemary could see where her son had gotten his looks.

  “I — I got lost,” she said, knowing how stupid that must have sounded. “I was looking for the bathroom.”

  “In my dresser drawer?” Mrs. L
ockwood asked, elegant brows lifting slightly. “What’s that you have in your hand? Were you trying to steal from me?”

  The supercilious tone in her voice seemed to indicate she thought that was exactly what was happening. Rosemary wanted to retort that it was actually her son who was the thief, but something stopped her. Although neither of Caleb’s parents looked as though they were mourning their son too much, she didn’t want to rub his loss in the other woman’s face. Also, she had a fairly good idea that Lockwood’s wife knew nothing about her husband’s true origins…or his extracurricular activities.

  And then she realized, with that same strange knowing that had led her here in the first place, that she could reach out with her gifts and get the truth from this woman, could exert a gentle influence to prevent her from calling for help. Only a breath of an intention, and Mrs. Lockwood seemed to relax, her dark eyes going blurry.

  “You won’t remember any of this,” Rosemary said, and the demon’s wife nodded.

  “Remember what?” she asked, staring vaguely up at the ceiling.

  “Nothing at all,” Rosemary replied. She began to move toward the doorway, intending to go past Mrs. Lockwood and down the stairs, but something made her pause. Lowering her voice, she said, “Do you know?”

  Now those unfocused dark eyes shifted toward her, although Rosemary still had the impression that the woman was looking at something else entirely. “Know what?” she said.

  “About your husband. What he is.”

  A faint line appeared in the unnaturally smooth skin between Mrs. Lockwood’s brows. She didn’t look as though she’d had a facelift — not yet, anyway — but obviously, her aesthetician had a free hand with the Botox. “He’s a banker. What else is there to know?”

  “He never said anything about where his father came from?”

  The frown deepened. “Daniel’s father is dead. He left him a lot of money…a lot of lovely, lovely money.”

  Well, that seemed to explain why she’d married her half-demon husband. Incongruously, Rosemary wanted to smile. No, she didn’t have a golden lasso, but this strange talent of hers seemed to be just as good when it came to getting people to tell the truth.

  “And you married Daniel because of that.”

  “Of course,” she said. “Wouldn’t you want to live in the biggest house in town and be married to the richest man?”

  “Not if it meant being married to a half-demon,” Rosemary replied, to which Mrs. Lockwood stared at her blankly before giving a tipsy-sounding laugh.

  “A what? Daniel may have his faults, but he’s no devil.”

  Demon, Rosemary thought with some weariness, but it seemed obvious to her that the woman who stood at the entrance to the master suite had absolutely no idea what she’d been married to all these years. How she’d managed that, Rosemary didn’t know, but she supposed that someone who’d been given everything she desired out of life might not have wanted to peek behind the curtain to see the truth behind what was actually happening in her world.

  Obviously, the two of them deserved each other.

  And she needed to get out of there. Mrs. Lockwood wasn’t a problem, but someone might come up here in search of her, and she needed to be long gone by then.

  “Of course, he’s not,” Rosemary said cheerfully. “Well, I need to go downstairs and collect my husband. But I think it’s probably a good idea if you stay up here for a few more minutes, just in case.”

  “Yes, I’ll stay,” Mrs. Lockwood said in a dreamy tone that was probably very different from her normal speaking voice.

  Rosemary smiled and then ducked out, the hard drive now tucked into the little evening bag she carried. It didn’t quite fit, and she couldn’t close the kiss-lock clasp on the thing, but with it tucked under her arm, it should be difficult to tell that she was carrying anything other than the usual lipstick, cell phone, and credit card.

  Hurrying — but doing her best not to look as if she was in a hurry — she descended the stairs. As much as she would have liked to simply vanish herself and Will out of there, she couldn’t do that without physically touching him. Besides, this whole venture was predicated on flying low and avoiding notice. If one of the partygoers simply disappeared in the midst of everyone else, it might attract just a little attention.

  When she got to the bottom step, she looked around but didn’t see him. He definitely wasn’t off in the corner where he’d been standing when she disappeared to go to the bathroom, and a mixture of irritation and worry spiked within her. Was it too much to ask that he stay put so he’d be easy to find? Then again, maybe stubbornly standing in one place would have attracted its own kind of attention.

  Well, the house was big, but it wasn’t so big that she shouldn’t be able to track him down. Purse still clenched tightly under one arm, she headed toward the dining room, figuring he’d probably gravitated to that space, if for no other reason than all the food arrayed on the long table there.

  Someone touched her arm, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. However, she realized in the next moment that it was only Will, who’d approached her from behind.

  He bent toward her and murmured, “Did you get it?”

  “Yes,” she said quietly. “Let’s get out of here.”

  She looped her arm through his — somewhere along the line, he’d gotten rid of one of the glasses of champagne he held — then took the remaining glass and downed its contents before depositing it on the tray of a passing waiter. A quick look around to make sure no one was paying attention to them, and then she began to move toward the front door, Will keeping pace and doing a remarkably good job of looking unconcerned and not as though his companion had just taken a valuable artifact from the homeowner’s bedroom.

  “Going so soon?”

  Oh, shit. Rosemary ground to a halt and saw Daniel Lockwood standing near the foyer, arms folded, but a pleasant smile on his lips nonetheless. He was very tall, she realized, taller than he’d seemed in his pictures. Handsome, of course, his dark hair streaked with gray and a set of broad shoulders filling out the navy suit he wore. At least his wife was nowhere in evidence.

  Had he been able to figure out who they were? Or was this just horrible bad luck, with the half-demon playing concerned host regarding a couple of partygoers who were ducking out far too early?

  Will’s fingers tightened on her arm, but he managed to smile and say, “It’s a wonderful party, but my wife isn’t feeling well, so we’ve decided to head home. But thank you for hosting — it looks like your fundraiser was a raging success.”

  Daniel Lockwood smiled thinly, although the smile never reached his eyes. In that moment, Rosemary noticed with an odd, jarring clarity that his eyes were pale blue, very unlike his son’s. “Oh, it was. If nothing else, it allowed me to know who my true enemy is.”

  “Excuse me?” Will said, looking nonplussed.

  Who knew that an Episcopalian priest could be such a good actor? Unfortunately, she knew his acting was to no avail, since their cover was clearly blown. Fear pulsed through her, but Rosemary told herself to stay calm.

  Not that she had any other options.

  “You’re not going to do anything in front of all these people,” she told the demon.

  “What people?” Lockwood asked, his tone now silky.

  It was as though a strange, shimmering veil had dropped around the three of them. Rosemary could still see the interior of the house, could see people as they talked and ate and drank and laughed, but she couldn’t hear them…and she somehow knew, with an odd, chilling certainty, that they couldn’t hear or see anything of what she and Will and Daniel Lockwood were doing.

  “Give it back,” he said, and she clenched her purse more tightly against her body.

  “Give what back?” she replied.

  A brief, humorless laugh. “The drive you stole from my wife’s dresser. Did you think I was foolish enough to leave it completely unguarded? As soon as you broke through the wards I set on it, I knew who you wer
e and what you had done. So hand it over, please.”

  Damn it. She’d been so certain they had the upper hand here that she hadn’t even stopped to think whether the hard drive had been protected in some way. Of course, even if she had been able to detect Lockwood’s wards, she wasn’t sure whether she would have been able to disable them.

  “No,” she said, a little startled at her own courage. “That’s Colin’s footage — and Michael Covenant’s, as his co-producer — and they both wanted it released. Better get ready for a whole lot of people to start believing in God.”

  The half-demon scowled. “You really think it will be that easy?”

  “Well, if it isn’t, then you have nothing to worry about, do you?”

  His hand shot out toward her purse. In almost that same moment, though, he gave a yelp of pain, and the tanned skin on the back of his hand began to bubble. Rosemary stared, not sure what was happening — until she saw the vial in Will’s hand.

  Holy water. He must have hidden it in the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

  Obviously, the blessed liquid affected half-demons, unlike their offspring. The strange, shimmering barrier that had blocked them away from the party began to fade, the sounds of the gathering starting to seep in. That was the only encouragement Rosemary needed. Will’s hand was still holding her arm, and so she laid her other hand on top of his fingers and shut her eyes, imagining the safety of his living room, thousands of miles away from where they currently stood.

  A blink, and they were gone.

  Chapter 18

  “I think we’re safe,” Will said, and Rosemary slowly eased her grip on his fingers.

  She looked around the living room, her face still pale. Because it was two hours earlier here in California, the sun hadn’t quite gone down yet, and there was enough light remaining that it was easy enough to see surroundings that were happily familiar to him — and hopefully, would be soon for her as well.