“Others?” the man repeated.
Stacy stepped in, though she knew doing so might earn her Spencer’s ire. “One of the cards depicted the Cheshire Cat, its bloody head floating above its body.”
“Dear God.” Kay clasped her hands together.
“If the Allen murder set the pattern, the chances are good that I’m the Cheshire Cat.”
Spencer sent her an irritated glance, then continued. “In addition to the Cheshire Cat, we found cards depicting the deaths of the Five and Seven of Spades, the March Hare, the Queen of Hearts and Alice.”
“Alice,” Kay repeated weakly. “You don’t think that’s our-”
“Of course it’s not our Alice,” Leo exclaimed, voice gruff. “What a thought, Kay!”
Spencer and Tony exchanged glances. “Is it so far from the realm of possibility, Mr. Noble?”
They all knew it wasn’t. Leo frowned. “Let’s just say, I refuse to accept it as a possibility. I have no clue what any of this is about.”
Kay turned to her husband, obviously upset. “How can you take that blindly optimistic approach? It very well could be our Alice. For all we know, I could be the Queen of Hearts!”
The room fell silent. Stacy studied the others. Malone and his partner were already thinking ahead, to the next bullet on their agenda. Leo and Kay, on the other hand, were scrambling to figure out how much danger they were in.
“I don’t like this,” Kay said, breaking the silence. “Maybe I should take Alice and go somewhere. Call it a holiday, a mother and daughter excurs-”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
They all turned. Alice stood in the doorway, ramrod straight, hands balled into fists. “I mean it. I’m not.”
Leo took a step toward her, hand out. “Alice, sweetheart, now’s not the time to discuss this. Go to your room and-”
“It is the time! I’m not a baby, Dad. When are you going to get that?”
“Go to your room!”
She held her ground. “No.”
Leo’s mouth dropped, as if he couldn’t even imagine such defiance coming from his daughter’s lips.
“I know something’s going on.” She turned to Stacy. “You’re not a technical consultant. You’re interested in Dad’s game, White Rabbit.
“And you two-” she indicated Malone and Sciame “-are cops. You were here the other night and again now. Why?”
Kay and Leo exchanged glances. Kay nodded and Leo turned back to his daughter. “The police are asking our help in tracking down a killer. He claims to be the White Rabbit.”
“That’s why they were here the other night,” Alice said. “Because someone had been murdered.”
“Yes.”
She moved her gaze between the adults, as if deciding whether they were being truthful. “But why take me away?”
Kay took a step toward her. “Because your father…he might…he’s-”
“In danger?” The words seem to catch in the girl’s throat. She suddenly looked younger than her sixteen years. And as vulnerable as any child.
Leo crossed to her and hugged her. “We don’t know that for certain, pumpkin. But we’re not taking any chances.”
She seemed to digest that. “Am I in danger?”
Spencer stepped in. “At this moment, we don’t have a strong reason to believe so.”
The girl was silent. When she spoke, the vulnerability was gone. “If I’m not in danger, why send me away? Seems to me, Dad’s the one who should consider running.”
“We don’t want to expose you to danger,” Kay said. “If some crazy person has targeted your-”
“I’m not leaving Dad.”
Leo sighed. Kay looked frustrated. Stacy felt for them. She turned to Spencer. “Do you think it’s safe for Alice here?”
He frowned, then nodded. “For the moment, yes. That could change.”
Stacy looked at the teenager. “If it did, would you go then?”
“Maybe,” she said. “We could talk about it.”
She sounded like an adult. Had the intellect to reason like one. But she wasn’t an adult. She was a child. And one who didn’t live in the real world. Because of her intellect. And because of her wealth.
Alice squared her shoulders and looked directly at Spencer. “I want to help. What can I do?”
Leo pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Pumpkin, I’m sure the detectives appreciate your offer, but you’re-”
Stacy cut him off. The teenager knew enough to be afraid. Helping might ease those fears.
“Detective Malone and I have an idea,” she said. “It’s something you might be able to help with, Alice.”
The girl turned eagerly toward her. Stacy ignored the Nobles’ shocked expressions. “We figure we need to get into this guy’s head. He claims to be a White Rabbit, so-”
“You want to play the game,” Alice said. “Of course. What better way to anticipate his moves?”
CHAPTER 32
Saturday, March 12, 2005
2:00 p.m.
Leo had been reluctant to play; said he’d left gaming behind years before. Kay had flatly refused. White Rabbit belonged to a time of their lives she would rather not relive.
Stacy had attempted to overcome Leo’s reluctance by explaining that Alice was absolutely right when she’d ascertained that they planned to use the game as a way to understand who they were up against. Getting into the head of a killer was a technique as old as crime and investigation, but perfected by the FBI in the 1980s.
The feds had dubbed the technique “profiling,” the investigators who specialized in the technique “profilers.” It was about as sexy as police work got. Lots of media coverage. Respect and awe from both the public and law enforcement. Some damn spectacular success stats.
Even so, in the end it’d been Alice who’d convinced her father. She’d begged him. She would set up the game. All he’d have to do was show up. It’d be fun.
So here she was. Alice met them at the door. She wore a bright patchwork vest-similar to the rabbit’s in Carroll’s story.
“Hurry,” the girl said. “We’re late. So very, very late.”
Stacy began to correct her-she was actually right on time-then realized that Alice was already in character.
“Follow me…follow me…”
She turned and hurried inside, leading them to the kitchen. It looked like a snack truck had exploded in the room. The center island was covered with bags and bowls of every snack food possible. A small cooler sat in the midst of the chips, pork rinds and M amp;M’s candies.
Stacy crossed to it and saw it was loaded with soda pops and coffee drinks.
The front doorbell rang and Alice hurried to answer, muttering about the time.
In the next moment, Alice scurried back into the room, shadowed by Spencer, Tony and Leo. All the while, Alice tapped her foot impatiently, muttering under her breath and repeatedly checking her pocket watch.
“Alice isn’t being rude,” Leo explained. “She’s IC. In character.”
“Exactly,” Alice said, grinning at her father. “And right now I’m OOC, out of character.”
“What’s with the junk food?” Tony asked, wandering to the island.
“It’s a gamer thing. Energy drinks, pork rinds, chips, the nastier the better.”
“My kind of game,” he said, reaching for the basket of barbecue cracklings.
“Energy drinks?” Stacy asked. “Mountain Dew?”
“Lots of caffeine. At Dad’s insistence, we also have Starbucks Double Shots.”
They did, indeed. Stacy helped herself to a can, popped the top and poured the coffee beverage over a cup of ice. When they had all helped themselves to a refreshment, they sat.
“Since you’re all newbies,” Alice began, “I figured we’d play a really basic version.”
Leo cleared his throat. “Newbie? Excuse me?”
She laughed. “Except for Dad, of course.” She continued, “There are a number of different scenarios, even a one-on-one, between a player’s character of choice and the White Rabbit.