Chapter #21Blackwell's Panic by: Seuzz   Your hands are too full now to worry about this friend of Lucy's, and once Lucy is dead to the world her stuff will probably be irrelevant, so you blow her off and just concentrate on the plan you've developed. It goes off without a hitch, and by nightfall Lucy's SUV has been in a nasty accident and a newly pliant Yumi is at her house. That night you not only lock your door against the guardian, you shove a chair up under the knob. But it seems to have been well-fed after taking Lucy, and it hardly makes any noise.
* * * * *
Blackwell is surprised to see you still at the house the next morning when he arrives, though he is gratified to see you studying so hard. He hardly says anything except to express mystification at Lucy's disappearance. You wait with bated breath as he returns to the kitchen, where the morning paper is waiting. Lucy's accident is prominently mentioned on the front page, but after reading it you'd folded it up and returned it to its plastic bag.
"Will!" he calls, and you stroll in doing your best to feign nonchalance. Blackwell is very white in the face. "Lucy was killed in an accident over the weekend." With a trembling hand he gives the paper to you.
You read the article (again) while pretending to be shocked. "Is there anything we need to do? What was she working on for you?"
Blackwell's eyes are white around the rims, and he fiddles his fingers nervously. "This is bad," he mutters. "This is very bad." He hiccups. "I must take a hot bath, to calm myself." His feet move uncertainly beneath him as he stumbles up the stairs.
Blackwell's shock in turn shocks you. Whatever she was working on must have been very important to your mentor. You never had the impression that Lucy had deep reserves of intellect or talent. But then, you probably never gave anyone the same impression. Perhaps she was a natural-born witch—a thought, that once it occurs to you, seems very much in keeping with her personality.
When Blackwell comes down after an hour he is calmer but still deeply troubled. "We will have to exhume her," he says to your great surprise. "It is best to wait until they have buried her, but then we must exhume her."
You lick your lips. "Why? What's so important about her body?"
He waves you to be silent. "In the meantime, you need to get into her house. Into her room, in particular. She has the Libras.
"She what?"
"Don't argue, Will," he says firmly. "She has it and we need to get it back before her family discovers it or gets rid of it. Can you get in there?"
"I suppose I could use my new mask to copy her sister," you say. "But you were her professor, right? Couldn't you just call them and tell them she has this book of yours, and that you'd like them to set it aside for you?"
He hesitates, then nods. "Yes, that would be much the least complicated way, wouldn't it?" He grimaces. "I have been much too wrapped up with masks, haven't I? My first instinct is to use them." He gives you a grateful smile. "I'm quite glad one of us at least has a clear head."
And yet your own next thought is that you could use your new mask to sneak in and steal the book for yourself before Blackwell can collect it.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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