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Authors: Polly Iyer
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singing, he said they listen ed to Gregorian chants . He apologized if they bothered us and assured me they’d lower the volume. He seemed nice, not at all threatening.”
“What did he look like?”
“Red hair and beard, about five-eight, always wore a brown jacket. He and the girls were the only one s I saw on a regular basis. The others came during their get-togethers.”
Lucier flashed the picture of Ridley Deems . “Is this the man?”
The father and son nodded. “That’s him,” Mrs. Wilton said. “We ’ve been on vacation the last week. What’s going on there, anyway?”
“Nothing now. Anything else unusual ?”
“No, but I don’t make it a habit to spy on my neighbors .”
“Of course,” Lucier said. “Did you happen to notice a tall, good-looking man coming or going? Middle aged, graying hair.”
“No pe , just the bearded fellow.”
“And the group, would you recognize any of them?
“No t in the dark. Their card games started late, around ten, sometimes later. They never put on the outside light.”
“Any license plates stick in your mind?”
“I never paid attention. I’m sorry.”
“What’s this about,” Stan Wilton asked.
“We’re not sure, Mr. Wilton, but whatever’s been going on there is over.”
“I’m glad,” Marjorie Wilton said. “ The whole late-night thing was strange.”
“If you think of anything else, or if someone turns up in the middle of the night and you happen to see, here’s my card. Call.”
“I will.”
Lucier left the house sure what the Wiltons had described , and h e’d bet the meetings took place during specific moon changes . Who would make th at connection?
He sauntered back to the pink house. Diana wasn’t waiting in front, so he went inside. An unearthly silen ce greeted him .
“Diana?” S he didn’t answer. Fear shimmied down his spine , and he drew his gun. Heart pounding, he cleared the first floor .
She must be upstairs . I should ne ver have let her come in alone.
“Diana? W here are you?”
He scanned the room with the symbols on the wall, then moved stealthily toward the pink room , stopping at the door . Diana sat in the rocking chair, her arms crossed over her chest. He wasn’t sure whether she was in a trance or asleep. His heartbeat thudded louder.
“Diana?” He crept closer and spoke s oftly, careful not to alarm her . Leaning down, he saw that she’d been crying. He touched her face. “What’s the matter?”
She lowered her arms, revealing the circles of dampness over her breasts. “It started when I sat in this chair.”
A lump rose in his throat. “I should never have involved you in this. It’s too soon. You’re not fully recovered.”
She looked at him, her expression questioning. “This doesn’t happen, Ernie.”
He slipped his hand around her arm and lifted. “Come, I’m taking you home.”
“Those girls were here. Brigid and the other girl we saw going into the mission. They were here and breastfed the babies. They’re wet nurses.”
This case was taking turns he didn’t understand, and because of its bizarre nature, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. “I know. The people next door saw them. Deems too. I’ll expla in everything on the way home.”
She stood in front of him, arms still crossed over her chest. Lucier took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She slid her arms into the sleeves.
“I need to get you o ut of here,” he said.
“I couldn’t stop the flow. It kept coming, and I couldn’t stop it.” She wrapped the jacket around her more tightly. “Don’t tell anyone about this, please.”
He took her in his arms. “I won’t, sweetheart. I promise.”
Chapter Thirteen
A Truth Stranger than Fiction
T his time Lucier didn’t announce his arrival at Sunset Mission. A woman asked him to wait, left , then returned to usher him to Slater’s office. The director sat behind his paper-strewn desk. He smiled when he saw Lucier.
“Lieutenant , what a
“What did he look like?”
“Red hair and beard, about five-eight, always wore a brown jacket. He and the girls were the only one s I saw on a regular basis. The others came during their get-togethers.”
Lucier flashed the picture of Ridley Deems . “Is this the man?”
The father and son nodded. “That’s him,” Mrs. Wilton said. “We ’ve been on vacation the last week. What’s going on there, anyway?”
“Nothing now. Anything else unusual ?”
“No, but I don’t make it a habit to spy on my neighbors .”
“Of course,” Lucier said. “Did you happen to notice a tall, good-looking man coming or going? Middle aged, graying hair.”
“No pe , just the bearded fellow.”
“And the group, would you recognize any of them?
“No t in the dark. Their card games started late, around ten, sometimes later. They never put on the outside light.”
“Any license plates stick in your mind?”
“I never paid attention. I’m sorry.”
“What’s this about,” Stan Wilton asked.
“We’re not sure, Mr. Wilton, but whatever’s been going on there is over.”
“I’m glad,” Marjorie Wilton said. “ The whole late-night thing was strange.”
“If you think of anything else, or if someone turns up in the middle of the night and you happen to see, here’s my card. Call.”
“I will.”
Lucier left the house sure what the Wiltons had described , and h e’d bet the meetings took place during specific moon changes . Who would make th at connection?
He sauntered back to the pink house. Diana wasn’t waiting in front, so he went inside. An unearthly silen ce greeted him .
“Diana?” S he didn’t answer. Fear shimmied down his spine , and he drew his gun. Heart pounding, he cleared the first floor .
She must be upstairs . I should ne ver have let her come in alone.
“Diana? W here are you?”
He scanned the room with the symbols on the wall, then moved stealthily toward the pink room , stopping at the door . Diana sat in the rocking chair, her arms crossed over her chest. He wasn’t sure whether she was in a trance or asleep. His heartbeat thudded louder.
“Diana?” He crept closer and spoke s oftly, careful not to alarm her . Leaning down, he saw that she’d been crying. He touched her face. “What’s the matter?”
She lowered her arms, revealing the circles of dampness over her breasts. “It started when I sat in this chair.”
A lump rose in his throat. “I should never have involved you in this. It’s too soon. You’re not fully recovered.”
She looked at him, her expression questioning. “This doesn’t happen, Ernie.”
He slipped his hand around her arm and lifted. “Come, I’m taking you home.”
“Those girls were here. Brigid and the other girl we saw going into the mission. They were here and breastfed the babies. They’re wet nurses.”
This case was taking turns he didn’t understand, and because of its bizarre nature, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. “I know. The people next door saw them. Deems too. I’ll expla in everything on the way home.”
She stood in front of him, arms still crossed over her chest. Lucier took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She slid her arms into the sleeves.
“I need to get you o ut of here,” he said.
“I couldn’t stop the flow. It kept coming, and I couldn’t stop it.” She wrapped the jacket around her more tightly. “Don’t tell anyone about this, please.”
He took her in his arms. “I won’t, sweetheart. I promise.”
Chapter Thirteen
A Truth Stranger than Fiction
T his time Lucier didn’t announce his arrival at Sunset Mission. A woman asked him to wait, left , then returned to usher him to Slater’s office. The director sat behind his paper-strewn desk. He smiled when he saw Lucier.
“Lieutenant , what a
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