An Evil Guest (28 page)

“Organizations act according to patterns, patterns from which they deviate only rarely. John and his friends are careful men, violent only when they have no choice. That doesn’t sound like the man who shot me, or the people who sent him to do it.”

Cassie nodded again.

“In addition to what I just said, John has compelling reasons to want me alive and active. You may give that more weight than I do, however. I’ve been involved with our government more than once, and know how often it acts contrary to its own best interests.”

“What about the man who bought me truffles?”

“That’s much more plausible, I admit.” Gideon picked up the menu. “Do you like Hopfenkäse?”

“I have no idea. What about our friend? The one I just asked about?”

“It’s a cheese. People usually eat it with beer, which I rarely drink. I just thought you might like it.”

Cassie shook her head.

“Our friend is a lot more plausible, I admit, and for twenty-four hours or more I felt reasonably certain he had done it. Then I found out that he was looking for me in the hope of protecting me and getting me better medical assistance.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. It showed that he was still anxious to enlist me, if he could—that we were just haggling about price, in other words. If I were indebted to him, I might feel obligated to do as he asked. A tall man in a gray suit visited me, one who had visited you earlier. He told you he was from the FBI and tried to get you to call him if you saw me or heard from me. Remember that?”

Cassie nodded. “Did India tell you?”

“No. He did. Now tell me about the wolf.”

“You must have heard about that from Ebony.”

Gideon nodded. “What she told me was sketchy and subjective. I’d like to hear it from you. Everything.”

“All right. I’m sure I’ll be subjective, too, but I can’t help it. My second husband showed up. He said he was working for somebody named Arthur Thomas Franklin. Do you know who that is?”

Gideon said, “Go on.”

“He gave me a picture of us dancing in the show, you and me. I told Ebony it’d been faked—Ebony was with me. That’s what I said, but I didn’t believe it.”

“The names, I suppose.”

“Yes. You two were about the same size, and certain things Gil Corby said made me think of you. I decided to buy a camera and try it myself. I was going to take a few shots of you there in my dressing room. Only I couldn’t figure the camera out.”

The waiter returned, and Gideon ordered lièvre à l’Allemande for them both. “Wine?” he asked Cassie.

She nodded. “I could use a drink. A nap, too.”

“Champagne, in that case.” When the waiter had gone, he added, “Three glasses should do it, and you can sleep on the way home.”

“Three glasses and you’ll have to carry me back to the car.”

“With food? Nonsense. Get to the wolf.”

“I’d rather get to the waiter. He’s not—well, he’s not like us.”

Gideon nodded.

“So what is he? Somebody from Woldercan?”

“I doubt it. Their ears aren’t pointed, as far as I know. Or hairy, for that matter.”

“A werewolf?”

“Certainly not. Werewolves are human.”

Cassie sighed, spotted the waiter returning with their champagne, and sighed again. The waiter opened it. Gideon sampled and approved it, and the waiter poured for them. Gideon sipped and said, “The wolf now, please.”

“Do you ever feel like you’re in the wrong show?”

He sipped from his glass again, and set it down. “Just what do you mean by that?”

“It’s a nightmare I’ve had. Maybe a nightmare I’m having. I’m onstage, I’ve got no idea what the play’s about, and the audience is always behind me. I’m in a restaurant that can’t possibly be in one of those guides you can read online, the waiter’s not—shouldn’t this place serve dragon’s eggs? Stuff like that?”

“Certainly not. They’re poisonous.”

“You’ve tried them?”

Gideon looked disgusted. “It’s common knowledge, that’s all. If you don’t believe it, you eat them.”

“All right. Pink clouds with spun sugar. Delicious!”

“Not to me. Too sweet. Let’s talk about the wolf.”

“Right. We were having breakfast. That’s Ebony, my second husband Scott, and me. Scott was there because he had promised to tell me who killed Norma. It was Arthur Whatshisname. That’s what he said.”

“Truthfully, I’m sure.”

“He pulled out our picture, and all of a sudden Wally was at our table, too. Can I say Wally?”

“You just did.”

“Then the wolf came in with a man holding a leash and pretending it was
a dog. It was bigger than any dog I’ve ever seen. It looked like it could kill a bull moose all by itself, no problem. The wolf looked Scott in the eye, and he looked at it. When it went out he followed it. I don’t know why, and he didn’t say a word.”

“But Wally did, didn’t he? Think carefully, please, because that’s my key question.”

“I don’t think—wait! Yes, he did. He said not to worry, we were safe. Then, after the wolf was gone and Scott, too, he said his sandwich needed Russian dressing.”

“Fine. You’ve met the werewolf. Met him in his human form, I mean. He works for Wally, and I’d guess that Wally told him what to do before he became visible at your table. The man in the gray suit.”

Cassie sipped her wine, paused to think, and sipped again. “He works for Wally?”

“Correct. He’s an ex-cop and a private investigator, and our friend Wally owns the agency that employs him. Not as our friend. Another name. He was trying to find me, because our friend wanted to help me, as I’ve told you.”

“But he’s a werewolf.”

“If you mean our friend, no, he isn’t. If you mean the man in the gray suit—”

“Yes. Him.”

“Correct. He is.”

“He told you?”

“He did not.” Gideon paused. “I hadn’t intended to get into this, but I will. There are several signs; when an individual exhibits two or more, it’s safe to assume lycanthropy. Hair on the palms of the hands is the classic indication, mentioned as far back as the Middle Ages. One almost never sees that today, because they shave it off. Luckily there are a number of others. The ring finger is often the longest on the hand. They’re sensitive to odors and insensitive to colors. There’s often a swift loping walk, even in women. It’s hard to describe, but once you see it you’ll remember it. They tend to dress in wolf shades: gray, black, and white. There are others, but those are the most common.”

“I changed.” She waited for him to speak; when he did not, she said, “Or you changed me.”

“You changed. I assisted you, and called upon others who assisted you, too. Going up is a lot harder than going down. I think I told you that once.”

“Yes, you did. I’m not a good student, Dr. Chase, but some things stick with me.”

“You learn your lines, and learn them very quickly from what I’ve heard.”

She ignored it. “How can you tell if someone is like me?”

“Again there are several signs, some of them seldom seen and rather obscure. Often, one sees spontaneous flashes of the higher form; and that was what I saw in your case. I attend the theater as much as I can when I’m not on campus, you understand. Call it a guilty pleasure.”

“You’d seen me onstage?”

Gideon nodded. “I had, in several productions. Nine-tenths of the time you seemed a very ordinary thirtyish actress, but there were flashes of something more—of an indescribable something that electrified me and, I believe, the whole audience. I marked you then.”

“But you weren’t going to help me?”

“On the contrary, I was going to help you as soon as I found reason to. That’s our food coming, I believe, so let me say before it arrives that another sign is desire. One sees that in werewolves, too. They want the wild and a liberation from human morality. People like you want to be the higher thing they cannot quite become. I tested you on that score, and you said that you’d walk barefoot all day and all night if it would make you a star. Remember?”

Slowly, Cassie nodded. “Two more questions?”

“Yes, but only two. What are they?”

“Why was the wolf so big? And—”

The waiter was setting down his tray on an empty table.

“Why did Scott follow him like that? The wolf never said a word to him. Can they talk?”

“Sometimes,” Gideon told her, “and that’s three questions. The wolf was so big—thank you.”

Cassie had received the first covered dish. When she removed the cover the aroma made her mouth water in actual fact.

“The wolf was as big as he was,” Gideon said, “because Al is. He’s not fat, but he must stand at least six foot two. When his cells have repositioned, they make a large wolf. I told you about that, too, once.”

Cassie nodded, her mouth full.

“You can charm people. You know you can. You charmed our friend, for example. The wolf charmed Scott. That’s one way to put it.”

Cassie chewed and swallowed with great pleasure. “I try to charm you, too, but it doesn’t work. Is it because you saw me before I changed?”

“Quite the contrary. You do charm me. If you didn’t, I wouldn’t have written that twenty-thousand-dollar check; and you charm me all the more because I saw you before you changed.”

She grinned. “I’ve been waiting to say this, Gid. Get back to the wolf.”

“Indeed. People attacked by tigers often do nothing to defend themselves. They simply stand there until the tiger kills them.” Gideon took a bite of sour cabbage. “The tiger has told them they are tiger food, you see.”

“I saw their sign as we left,” Cassie said as the black hopper that doubled as a sedan lifted off. “It’s a woman with no head, and it ought to scare me. Why doesn’t it?” She was full of roast hare and spätzle, champagne and Black Forest cake, and felt relaxed, sleepy, and perhaps a little romantic.

“Because it assures you that women should talk as long as they’re able to.”

“Really?” She considered. “I don’t think so.”

“You may be right. You’ve had my explanation . . .”

They hopped.

“What’s yours?”

“That was it, wasn’t it? We’re back home.”

“More or less. High enough that the noise shouldn’t bother anybody on
the ground much, and low enough to be under the radar—I hope. Over a thinly populated area with an old timber road running through it.”

“You love me, Gid?”

“Much, much more than I should.”

“You trust me, too. We’ve already talked about that, so I won’t ask. I’m going to say right now that I won’t touch anything you tell me not to touch or do anything you tell me not to do. I won’t hop or go up. Not an inch off the ground.”

For a moment he turned to glance at her.

“When we go back to the rental, I want to drive this. You can show me the way in the rental. When we get to the agency and you’ve turned it in, you drive this to my hotel. All right?”

“No.”

She stroked his arm. “Please, Gid?”

“Absolutely not. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“Last chance. Please?”

“No, and I don’t think there’s anything you can do or say that will make me change my mind. I’m saying no for your sake, Cassie.”

Gently, the black hopper landed on two faint tracks that wandered away among trees. As its tires took its weight, the headlights came on.

“Well, I’m going to try. I wasn’t going to tell you yet, but it’s the only thing I’ve got. I had company last night—company that scared me half to death. Maybe they were trying to be friends. I hope so. But I don’t want to sleep alone in that hotel room tonight. I was going to ask you to stay with me, but I won’t now. I’ll call Ebony and try to talk her into coming up to my room and sleeping with me.”

“You weren’t going to do that?” The black hopper rolled silently forward.

“No. I wanted you there in the bed with me.”

“If I would let you drive this?”

Cassie sighed. “I’d want you anyway, Gid. Ebony wouldn’t be much fun, and if those bat-things came back, she’d probably be as scared as I was.”

“They look on you as a friend, I’m sure.”

“That’s scary, too. Please, Gid? I’m a good driver, because I don’t drive enough to get confident. I’ll drive very conservatively, stop at all the stop signs, and never speed, I promise.”

“Why do you want to do it?”

Seconds passed before she answered, and when she did her voice had fallen almost to inaudibility, becoming small and frightened. “Well, because
I want to feel, just for a little while, that I belong with you and Wally. You can’t understand that.”

“I think I may.”

“You’re not a woman, so you can’t. I want to be—I want to matter. I want to be somebody, not because I’m Wallace Rosenquist’s woman or because I’m Gideon Chase’s woman. Because I’m Cassie Casey.”

“You
are
someone, Cassie. You just don’t know it.”

“If I were, you’d let me drive.”

Silence descended. Shadowy trees appeared to jog past them, moving rapidly and purposefully while they bumped and jolted. At last Gideon said, “I’ll stop and get out. You get behind the wheel so I can coach you.”

“How far do I get to drive?”

“All the way into the city.”

“In this?” She smiled.