“Drink this,” he said.
The water bottle touched her lips. Eyes still faraway, she sipped. “Explain what just happened to me.”
“The shadow person sent you forward in time to a house in Westchester where a serial killer lives. That killer was getting ready to pick up his next victim, a woman named Rachael, when you dropped in on him.”
“Was he the same guy from your séance last night?”
“Yes. I nicknamed him Dr. Death. He has a beard, and dresses like a college professor.”
“That’s the guy I saw. How many people has he killed?”
“Nearly a dozen, according to the FBI.”
She took another sip. “Why did the shadow person send me to see him? To get to you?”
“I guess.” He stared at Liza’s bare neck. His face grew into a deep frown. “You took off my mother’s five-pointed star. I asked you not to do that.”
“It was scratching my neck, so I took it off for the show. Big mistake.”
“Promise me you won’t do that again until this is over.”
“I promise.”
He kissed her on the forehead. It had a calming effect on her, and she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. An eerie scratching sound at the door made them both jump. Peter jumped up and sprang open the door. A white ball of fur came bounding in.
“Norman! Oh, my God, we forgot all about you,” Liza said.
Norman was panting hard. They took turns stroking his fur until he calmed down.
“I wonder where he was,” Peter said.
“He was with me,” Liza said. “He was running down the road with me, barking at Dr. Death. Dr. Death started yelling at him, and tried to run him over with his car. It had to be the most cruel thing I’ve ever seen. What kind of person would run over a lovable dog like this?”
“An evil one. What happened then?”
“Norman ran between the car’s tires, and somehow escaped.” She petted Norman’s furry head. “Can you imagine what’s going through his little brain?”
Peter could hardly understand what was going through his own head, much less the poor dog’s. Rising from the couch, he walked down the hall to Liza’s dressing room, removed his mother’s five-pointed star from the pewter jewelry dish, and returned to his own dressing room with it dangling from his finger. “Please put this back on.”
Liza fitted the star around her neck, and tucked it beneath her collar. “I won’t take it off, even if it rips my throat.”
They played with the dog for a while. Peter had taught Norman how to walk on his hind legs while balancing a red rubber ball on the tip of his nose. He had used animals in his magic show since he was kid. Back then, his doves had lived in a drawer of his dresser, while he’d kept a Dutch dwarf rabbit in a cardboard box in his closet. These days, his pets lived in large pens with plenty of sunlight, and were showered with daily attention by himself and his staff.
“So, how are we going to catch this guy?” Liza asked.
Her words caught him by surprise. They were not what he’d expected her to say, and it took a moment for them to sink in. “Did you say we?” he asked, just to be sure.
“Yes. I want to stop him from killing Rachael. So do you.”
“But you’re putting yourself at risk.”
“So are you.”
“I have powers. I can fight back.”
“Then I’ll make sure to stand right next to you.”
“I don’t want you doing this.”
Liza stopped playing with the dog. “I have to. I heard her voice.”
“You mean Rachael’s?”
“Yes, Rachael’s. As Dr. Death got out of his car, his cell phone rang, and he answered it. I heard the caller. It was Rachael calling to say that her train was running late because of a delay out of Grand Central Station. She sounded like a good person.”
“You’re sure about this.”
“Positive. I’d like to think she’d do the same for me.”
Liza had connected with a woman in the future she didn’t know, and now wanted to prevent her from perishing. It was an emotion he knew all too well, for it was one which consumed him also. Rachael with no last name was a life that needed saving.
“You’re probably right,” he said.
“So you’re okay with it?”
“I appreciate and support your position.”
“Thank you, counsel.”
“What else do you remember about your experience? Any little detail might help the FBI to figure out who Dr. Death is.”
Liza stopped petting the dog, her face a study in concentration. “It was dark. I didn’t see all that much. The interior of his house was kind of drab. Judging by the decorations, I’d say he’s a bachelor, doesn’t have any lady friends. The car he was driving stuck out. It was an older make of Volvo my parents drove when I was a kid. My father always complained about the suspension.”
“How old?”
“Twelve-thirteen years.”
“This is great. Keep going.”
“Do you think we can really catch him?”
“The FBI has a profile. If we give them enough clues, they’ll find him.”
She shut her eyes and tried to bring the rest of it back. “He had a really bad vibe. Like he was carrying around a huge chip on his shoulder.”
Dr. Death had called the town he lived in a hellhole, and Peter guessed something traumatic had happened to him growing up. His soul had been seared, so he sought revenge against those who had wronged him. It was as good an explanation as any for what he was.
“That’s all I remember,” Liza said. “Does it help?”
“Everything helps.”
There was a tap on the door. Snoop stuck his head into the dressing room. Snoop was Peter’s stage manager, and one of his closest friends. Snoop wore his blond locks combed over his eyes, and looked like Norman’s older brother. Snoop had seen a lot of unusual things, and never said much about it. He was cool with the strange comings and goings in Peter’s life.
“You two lovebirds okay?” Snoop asked.
“We’re doing fine,” Peter said.
“I’ve got a question. Is that black thing that came out of the dollhouse going to be a permanent part of the show? That was one heck of a trick.”
“I don’t think so,” Peter said.
“You’re not going to do it again? Why not?”
Snoop got his name because he enjoyed prying into other people’s business. Lying to him was pointless because he’d eventually figure out the truth. Better to level with him up front, and be done with it, Peter decided.
“The thing you saw wasn’t part of the show,” Peter said.
“Then what was it?”
“An unwanted guest.”
“You mean a ghost?”
“Ghosts are friendly. That thing wasn’t. It’s called a shadow person.”
“That’s heavy. I’m glad I got it on tape. Wait until I post it on YouTube.”
“You taped the show?”
“You betcha.”
Peter sometimes filmed his shows so he could later critique himself. The Saturday matinee hadn’t been filmed in a while, and it was a stroke of luck that Snoop had chosen to film today. Ghosts and spirits did not like to be captured on film. When watched frame by frame, their true identities often revealed themselves. Perhaps Snoop’s film of the shadow person would reveal its true identity, and lead them to Dr. Death.
“You’re a genius,” Peter told him.
“Glad you finally noticed,” his assistant replied.
14
Garrison arrived at the theater after the evening show let out, and gathered with Peter, Liza, and Snoop in Peter’s dressing room. Peter kept a TV in the room, and it was on this that they watched the video Snoop had shot of the shadow person during the matinee.
The video’s resolution along with the bright stage lighting gave remarkable clarity to a presence that was normally viewed in a fleeting glance before disappearing. About five feet tall, it was shaped like a woman, but could have easily been a man. They watched Peter stuff it into the Dollhouse illusion, and make the lovely Liza reappear, her body falling into his arms. It was here that the video ended.