Page 63 of Murder Will Out
The investigation into Geralt’s poisoning. Poisoning over time, poisoning on the day of his collapse. What if he was still being poisonedafterhe was admitted to the hospital? Was anyone investigating that?
But why? What would Naomi have to gain by it? She was his wife and would inherit everything—which, according to the morning’s papers, was mostly a pile of debt, anyway.
Willow’s mind kept playing through the past few days, the conversations, the possibilities…paternity suits… “Geralt Talbot impregnated me with an alien baby”…
Had they started in exactly the right place that first evening? And then gotten distracted?
Off the grid… can’t find a record of any baby, alien or otherwise…No record didn’t necessarily mean no baby. And if Marisa Talbot could go back to the Midwest with no one in Maine the wiser, this poor woman—Marianne Forrest, that was her name—couldhave too. Changed her identity, had her baby, no one knowing her story. Keeping the child away from Geralt Talbot and Maine altogether, until…she died about twenty years later. Suicide…
And perhaps Mariannehadgiven birth to a child, a daughter, who had every reason to hate the man who had sired her. Who, after losing her mother, might also have changed her name and built a whole new identity. Who had, perhaps, found her way back to her birth father, become friends with his wife, staying in their houses, traveling with them. Taking care of odd jobs—like, for example, procuring Geralt’s lemon nutrient water. Staying with Naomi in the hospital, and then sitting with him, unattended, so Naomi could slip out for some time of her own.
Willow knew just enough French to know that “from the forest” could translate asdu bois.
Audra.
“My God,” she murmured.
She had to tell Nick. She had to tell all of them. Most importantly, she had to get out of this house right now.
The movement behind her was quick and nearly silent, and Willow was too slow. Before she could turn, a hand grasped her ponytail and yanked her head back; a needle thrust sharply into her neck right by the hairline and someone swept her feet out from under her.
Willow crumpled to the floor. She struggled against the wave of heaviness creeping over her, but soon her body went limp, and her vision blurred into nothingness.
“Go to sleep, Willow,” she heard Audra’s mocking voice say as though receding into the distance.
“You and I need to have a talk. But for now, you have a nice little rest.”
Then everything was darkness.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
It was the throbbing in her head that told Willow she was still alive, a deep ache blooming from her left temple as her consciousness swam to the surface. For a few minutes, she lay still, testing fingers and toes to see if they would move; that was when the pain began stretching its tendrils down to her lower back.
She was lying on her side, hands and feet bound by something thin and tight. Everything hurt—head, back, wrists, and ankles too. She felt woozy and slow, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the bump to her head or the needle jab in her neck. She forced crusty eyelids to open, trying to focus on her surroundings. There was not much to see; the wall of gray stone inches from her eyes blocked her vision. Listening hard in the silence, she heard a woman’s voice, muffled and indistinct, from what sounded like a room or two away.
Trying not to groan aloud, she forced herself to roll over.
She was in the front room of Cameron House; someone had dragged her to the fireplace and left her there. Through the archway, she could see the foyer and the open library doors. She cursed inwardly; she’d forgotten to relock the library after leaving through the hidden second-floor exit.
Willow wriggled herself into a seated position, wincing every time she moved her head; now she could see the heavy-duty plastic zip ties around her ankles, and she guessed her wrists were similarly bound.
She was weak and exhausted.Sleep, she thought.Maybe I’ll go back to sleep, and this will all go away.
“You mustn’t, you know,” Peter Talbot said, seated cross-legged on the floor beside her, his gray fedora on the couch next to the brightly embroidered pillow. “You need to get free. You’re strong enough. You can do it.”
Willow gave her head a little shake, forcing herself to focus. At first, he seemed a little hazy, as though he had wrapped himself in sea mist and carried it into the house with him, but then he stabilized and was fully there, gray pin-striped suit as neat as ever. Handsome as any film star, with the saddest eyes she had ever seen. Sue’s father.
She opened her mouth to ask a practical question—something helpful, like how much time there was, or what Audra was planning, but instead, she heard herself asking softly, “What happened? That night, when you—the night of your car accident. What happened?”
She didn’t see him move, but now he stood next to Effie’s chair, looking out the window at the sea. “That night.” He faltered, as though not wanting to push the words out, but continued. “Marisa had told me that afternoon that we were going to have a baby. She hadn’t been to the doctor yet, but she knew; all the signs were there. She told Geralt as well; he was like a brother to her, the big brother she never had.”
He looked back to Willow. “We went out. To celebrate. My brother and me. We had too much to drink. Geralt was in better shape than I was, so he took the wheel. I remember a bright light and a crashing sound, and I don’t… I don’t remember much after that. I remember Marisa’s tears; I remember trying to stop her when she frantically packed her things and left the island.”He shrugged, almost apologetically. “She couldn’t see me, you understand.”
Willow felt her heart breaking along with his. All this time, he was waiting for his Marisa to come back—his bride from Away. She couldn’t see him. And she never returned.
“Geralt could see me,” Peter continued, “and hear me, but he was convinced I was his guilty conscience tormenting him. In the end, I suppose I drove him away as well. He left the island for years, never coming home to this house. I think he still blames himself for what happened.” He shook his head sadly. “I wish I could convince him otherwise.”
You might have the chance sooner than you know, Willow thought.
