“My fault? You’ve got to be kidding me!” I went to take a sip of the coffee and reconsidered. “Is this drugged? I only ask because I know how much you like drugging me.”
Richard sighed and furnished me with a look of forced patience. I took a defiant sip. What the hell. I was already miserable. No point in denying myself coffee. Besides, if I was drugged and passed out again, at least time would go by faster.
Jason came in with two folding chairs and set them up for Richard and Maxine to sit on. He left after, though he kept the door open, probably wanting to stay within earshot in case I attacked my charming abductors.
Richard waved a hand at my mattress. “Won’t you please sit down?”
I saw no point in arguing, figuring the sooner I allowed them to outline their list of demands, the sooner they’d leave me be. I was feeling awfully rundown and looking forward to going back to sleep. I flopped down on the bed, which put me about eye level with their legs. It was weird sitting below them like that. I felt like a dog.
“Okay, so now what?” I asked.
“We began to tell you about Greta yesterday,” Maxine said. “But we were interrupted.”
Is that what they were calling my kidnapping, an “interruption?”
Richard said, “We’re hoping that if we finish explaining things from our perspective that?—”
“I’ll be on-board with your plans of vampire genocide?”
Richard pursed his lips and gave Maxine a look:I simply cannot deal with this vulgar commoner.
Maxine gave me a brittle smile and rested her hand on herhusband’s forearm. She seemed to be the more easygoing of the two.
I was being stubborn and foolish. It would behoove me to be nicer. Perhaps if I managed to play along with them convincingly enough, I could trick them into believing that I was on their side. Maybe, just maybe, they’d even let me go.
But I’d have to be sly about it. If I suddenly started going along with everything they said, they’d be on to me in a nanosecond.
I moved to the rear of the mattress so that my back was resting against the wall. “Iwouldlike to hear more about Tilly,” I said sweetly—but nottoosweet. “Greta, I mean. Please, finish your story. I’m all ears.”
“Very well,” Richard said.
“You were at the part where you joined the hunting club,” I prompted. “And you were making lots of money.”
“Oh, yes.” Richard smiled wistfully. “I belonged to the club for a great many years. I’m still affiliated with them as a board member, but I no longer go out hunting. I’m afraid my bones are too weary for such shenanigans.”
Was I supposed to argue? The man looked as if he was made of tissue paper.
Patting his wife’s hand, he changed the subject. “I met Maxine one night after a show.”
“I was a chorus line dancer,” Maxine said proudly. “Best legs in the business.”
“It was love at first sight. I was older than Maxine by a few years?—”
“Twenty-sixyears, dear,” she chimed in.
“—but we fell in love nonetheless.”
A beautiful dancer and a man twenty-six years her senior. Richard was no looker, so having money probably helped grease the wheels of love.
“Through my associates at the club, I’d made many savvy investments,” Richard said. “I’d gone legitimate by that time.”
“Or else I would have had nothing to do with him,” Maxine said, which almost made me snort, given that she had no problem holding me hostage.
Richard said, “Around the time Greta was a teenager, offering entertainment at dinner parties was standard. It was, at least, in our circle.” He meant rich people, I assumed. “Sometimes, the host would hire an opera singer or magician to keep guests occupied while dinner was being prepared.”
I nodded in understanding, though I was wondering when he was going to get to the point of the story.
“Both Maxine and I were big fans of the occult, as were our friends. During one of our dinner parties, we thought it would be a hoot to hire a fortuneteller.”
