“Disturbing,” intoned Highbaugh. “And fascinating. Your sister was fascinating.”
“Ever and always,” Asher murmured. “As for now, basement?”
Harper nodded, and they headed out into the hall. When Asher opened the basement door, she was struck, as she had been the first time, with the stupefying, tactile sensation of humid air wrapping around her. The same sensation warning her:Don’t go down there.
Harper almost asked Asher to retrieve the journal for her but didn’t trust him to find it. She took a deep breath to center herself and followed him down the creaking wooden stairs.
The basement laboratory looked the same as when she had been there with Detective Serrano. All of the antiquated equipment, the beakers and coiled tubing, the jars and vials full of mystery liquids, the dried leaves and flowers were there as before. She noticed, again, that areas of the hard-packed dirt around the edges of the floor had been disturbed. Had something been buried there?
“This the journal you were talking about?” Asher asked, holding up the thick tome.
“That’s the one.”
He held it in one hand and allowed it to fall open. His eyes flickered and shifted as he read a few passages, turning one page after the other, speeding up as he skimmed the journal.
And then he seemed to transform, right in front of her eyes. A muscle in his jaw started to work, his eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared, and his breathing became rapid. This time, when he looked at her, Harper did not register the beautiful blue of his eyes but instead wondered if she should have heeded Tariq’s warning.
“This is…These aren’t just old lab notes,” Asher growled. “My sister wrote in it.”
“Yes, I think she might have combined the old journal from Soren Perles with some of her own notes, and put a new cover on…”
“You can’t have this, thisgarbage.” He snapped the journal shut and flung it into a corner. “No onecan have it. Not you, not anyone, do you hear me?”
Bang!
They jumped at the sound of the basement door slamming shut.
“What the hell?” Asher ran up the stairs and rattled the knob. “Highbaugh?Open this door immediately!”
With Asher distracted, Harper retrieved the journal from the dusty floor and shoved it into the rear waistband of her pants, making sure her long jacket covered it. She hurried over to join him on the stairs.
“Highbaugh!” Asher called out again, and banged on the old wood. “Damn it! Open this door!”
They heard a loudthump, then a giggle, and the door slowly swung open.
Asher cautiously looked around the door. “Highbaugh? Hello?”
“ ’Tis I,” said Joel, unsteady on his feet and sweating profusely. “Or should I say ’tis me?”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Asher demanded. “And why did you lock us in?”
“I beg your pardon, kind sir! I didnotlock you in, I let youout. And this is the thanks I get. Ungrateful wretch. All you Masons. Why are there bunnies bouncing? Do you see that?” Joel’s gaze shifted to Harper, and his orange water bottle fell to the ground as he pointed at her. “You did this to me! It’s all your fault!”
He turned on his heel and almost fell but grabbed the newel-post to steady himself. Then, spouting something that sounded like lines from a play, Joel ran up the stairs to the second floor. “I’m coming! Look at the bunnies…! Delilah,delulu, why why why, Delilah! I’m coming! I know the truth! Everyone will soon know the truth!”
“Stop this crap and come back here!Joel?” Asher yelled. “My sister is gone!”
When Joel did not reply, Asher raced after him, taking the stairs two at a time.
Harper hesitated, her heart pounding. Asher’s transformation in the basement had shaken her. And Joel was clearly under the influence, and incoherent. Neither man was appealing company at the moment.
She heard loud, angry shouting overhead. Were they going to kill each other? She grabbed her phone and started to dial 911.
Then came a scream, the sound of crashing glass, and a loud, sickeningthud.
Twenty-Five
The 911 call did not go through.
