Dreams (Part One) (Dreams #1)(33)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

Margaret Fulbrook rolled up the window to cut off further conversation, and a few seconds later the heavy car lumbered out of the parking lot. Diana stood and watched until it was out of sight.

8

When Diana walked back into the cottage half an hour later, her arms full of groceries and Specter at her heels, she almost didn’t notice the flowers in the vase on the hall table.

The bright yellow and white daisies were gone. In their place was a bunch of colorless, decaying weeds.

Diana nearly dropped her packages. “Specter,“ she whispered.

Instantly he was there, pushing a concerned, inquiring nose against her thigh. Then he pressed forward, sniffing around the base of the hall table. He gave a sharp bark and looked at her.

“Somebody’s been in here.“ Diana glanced around nervously. She knew there was no one else in the house at the moment. Specter would have gone crazy. Slowly, she went on into the kitchen, half-afraid of what she might find.

But there was nothing out of place, nothing missing. She let the grocery sacks slide out of her arms onto the tiled countertop and then made herself walk deliberately from room to room. Specter hovered close, sensing her uneasiness.

But he obviously knew there was no immediate threat.

Diana went back out into the hall and stared at the unsightly clump of weeds.

“It’s a joke,“ she told Specter, trying to reassure herself. “Someone’s playing a very strange joke.“ But there was something unsettlingly familiar about this particular prank. It took Diana a minute to remember, and then her memory clicked. “There was an incident like this in Colby’s book.“

Whirling around, she hurried into the kitchen and picked up Shock Value. Her fingers trembled slightly as she turned the pages, searching for the right scene. “So help me, Specter, if this is his idea of comedy, I’ll wring his neck.

This is not funny.“

She found the scene in the third chapter. Donnelly had just walked into his home and discovered that a beautiful arrangement of gladioli had been replaced with a ragged assortment of dead weeds.

Shock sliced through him slowly, a dull blade inching along the nerve endings of his spine. He stared at the moldering weeds, knowing they were both an offering and a warning. Their stench filled the air. They trailed limply out of the crystal vase, evil doppelgangers of the fresh, lush blooms they had replaced.

An offering and a warning.

They were tribute to the dark being which the local people believed haunted the cove, and they were also meant as a warning to Donnelly who refused to take such legends seriously.

A passionate rage seized him. He reached out and jerked the weeds from the beautiful vase. He tossed the dead things onto the hearth and watched with satisfaction as the fire eagerly consumed them.

It wasn’t until the weeds had been reduced to ashes that Donnelly asked himself who could have placed them in the vase. He didn’t like any of the possible answers.

Diana slowly closed the door. “I don’t like any of the answers, either, Specter.“

The sound of Colby’s Jeep in her drive brought her out of the kitchen and sent Specter bounding to the front door.

The dog growled his usual warning as Colby came up the steps.

“Diana?“ Colby let himself into the cottage. The screen door slammed behind him. “Out of my way, Specter. I’ve got better things to do than trade insults with you today. Some other time, maybe. Diana?“

“I’m right here, Colby,“ she said quietly. She stood in the kitchen doorway and watched him walk heedlessly past the weeds.

His brows rose. “Something wrong?“

Her eyes went to the table beside him. Automatically he followed her gaze. At first he looked puzzled, and then his eyes narrowed.

“I found them there when I got home a few minutes ago. When I left this morning, there were daisies in that vase.

Remind you of anything, Colby?“

“Damn.“ He looked back at her. “Yeah, it reminds me of something. A scene out of one of my books.“

“Shock Value.“

“Got that far, did you?“ He snatched the weeds out of the vase and strode into the kitchen where he tossed them into the garbage. “So who the hell put them in your vase and why?“

Diana folded her arms, unconsciously withdrawing into herself. She was glad to have the weeds gone but the ramifications of the situation could not be dismissed so easily. “I don’t know. I thought you might have some ideas.“

“Me?“ His expression darkened further. “What is this? You thought I might have done it?“

“It occurred to me that maybe this was some sort of joke to tease me about how long it’s taking me to read Shock Value.“

Colby swore again, this time more crudely. Specter muttered a warning and edged closer to his mistress. Colby ignored the dog. He opened the refrigerator door and helped himself to a can of beer he had stored in there a few days earlier.

“Just so you’ll know in the future,“ he said roughly as he opened the beer, “I am not into practical jokes.“

Diana drew a breath of relief. “I’m sorry,“ she whispered. “It’s just that for a few minutes I was very frightened, and I guess it was easier to think it might have been you staging a stupid prank than to think that some stranger was in here today.“

Colby watched her face for a moment and then his eyes softened. “Come here, honey,“ he said gently and held out his hand.

Diana hesitated, and then with a small, wordless exclamation, she stepped close and let him fold her against his side. She leaned into him, allowing herself to take comfort and reassurance from his strength. He held her with one arm wrapped securely around her and sipped his beer thoughtfully.

“When I figure out who put the weeds in your vase, I’ll beat him to a pulp,“ Colby finally announced.

Specter gave a small yip. Colby looked down at the dog. “Okay, pal, you can help me.“

“Who would do such a thing, Colby?“

“Damned if I know, but we’ve got a town full of possible candidates.“

“What do you mean by that?“ Diana demanded.

“In case it has escaped your notice, sweetheart, I am not exactly the favorite son of Fulbrook Corners. I’ve got a lot of old enemies.“

“After twenty years? I doubt that.“

“Some folks around here have long memories, believe me. And not everyone is glad I didn’t wind up in jail. The general consensus in Fulbrook Corners was that sooner or later I’d come to a bad end. People don’t like to be proven wrong.“