Oxford Whispers Part 35

"Miss Lindsey? What happened to her?"

"She's been killed."

Rupert's stomach dropped. "What the h.e.l.l are you talking about? This is insane."

"Where have you been? The news is all over Christ Church, all over Oxford-"

Rupert cut in. "What does it have to do with Madison?"

"We found Miss Lindsey in Madison's bedroom. Lindsey had been strangled."

Rupert's eyes stared at Ollie but didn't see him. Madison hadn't mentioned anything to him about the censor. Though she'd seen him only an hour before, she'd kept quiet concerning the murder. He never gave her the chance to share this terror with him.

"Anyway, what do you want to talk about with Pippa?" Suspicion dripped from every word in Ollie's question.

I'm not trying to s.h.a.g your girlfriend, you geek. "Nothing. It doesn't matter anymore." No time for relations.h.i.+p counseling. He had to go straight to Madison now, make sure she was fine. "Pippa doesn't want to talk to me. Her door is opened, but she's not answering."

"That's weird." Ollie stepped forward and pushed the door wide open. "Pippa?" The lack of response threw a shadow over his face.

"Do you want me to go in with you? I know she can't stand me, but you?"

Ollie swallowed, nodded, but didn't move. So Rupert took the lead.

He entered the narrow hallway and gave a quick glance at the ground floor. The kitchen was in the back, but he couldn't see if it was empty. He signaled to Ollie to take the first floor, while he moved further inside.

After inspecting the living room, he entered the kitchen. Everything around him was tidy and in apparent order. Why had the girl left her door open?

He retraced his steps back to the hallway and climbed up the stairs to where he thought he would find Pippa's bedroom. Ollie stood in the middle of it, as pale as a corpse, his eyes bulging.

Rupert planted himself in front of him and took hold of his shoulders. "What's going on?"

"Madison's in danger." Ollie's eyes seem to find their focus again and they drilled into Rupert. "In serious danger."

Rupert's heartbeat thrashed in his ears.

"What do ..." he stopped in an attempt to control his shaky voice. He swallowed hard and continued. "What do you mean by she's in danger?"

Beads of sweat pearled on Ollie's upper lip. "I know who killed Miss Lindsey."

"What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?"

Ollie handed an object to Rupert. It was a picture frame. His eyes squinted as he attempted to make out the details of the photo. The gla.s.s was broken and dried blood was splattered across its front, but he recognized the picture. "That's Madison's family."

Ollie gave Rupert a slow nod. "I'm not sure she noticed the picture was gone. We couldn't stay long in her room once the police had arrived. But the blood..." He swayed as if he was going to faint.

Rupert's stomach sank.

Chapter 58.

SOMEWHERE CLOSE to her, mice squeaked and skittered about. Above her, something like bat wings fluttered. Outside, the wind rustled through the trees and echoed in the night.

Madison dragged herself back into consciousness. Cold stone burned against her cheek. The dust plastered inside her mouth made her want to cough, but her instinct shouted at her to stay still, to play dead.

Her short-term memory began to awaken: Pippa coming closer, the p.r.i.c.k of the needle at her thigh, zoning out, and then the drowsy trip on the narrow backseat of Pippa's car.

Madison fought a desperate need to rub at her itchy eyes and prop up her head. Instead, she forced her limbs to remain immobile, frozen. To regain focus, she opened her eyes wide, shut them hard, then opened them again.

The stone walls towering above her were faceless and impenetrable. A single lamp bulb hung from the moldy and mildewed ceiling, dispensing more shadows than light.

Pippa sat on the other side of the tiny, cluttered room. Her elbows on her knees, she held her head between her hands, each fist grabbing a tuft of crimson hair. Despite her compact stance, she began to rock back and forth.

Through half-lidded eyes, Madison saw Pippa's hands make fluttery movements. Her cracked voice burst into a moan, then morphed into a wail and cascaded into a sob.

When the sob was exhausted, Pippa returned to her initial lethargy.

Rea.s.sured by the girl's pa.s.sive state, Madison darted glances at the decor around her. Painting frames with religious scenes on them were stacked against the wall, and sheets covered square pieces of furniture. A couple of spiderwebs dangled at the corners of the ceiling.

Two details caught her sh.e.l.lshocked attention. A pew, worn and tattered, stood in a haphazard position in the middle of the room. Behind her, leaning precariously against the wall, was a crumbling altar that threatened to fall over at any moment.

Images of the immediate past flashed through her mind. Pippa had managed to pull Madison out of the car and forced her to hobble to the back door of an imposing structure. Judging by the furniture around her, that building was a church. Which church, though, she couldn't guess.

Pippa's sobbing started again. Madison's vision wasn't blurred anymore, and she saw confusion and despair on her friend's face.

Her friend was Peter's victim. All the bickering, all the jealousy ... it must have been Peter "talking" all along. Whatever the outcome for Madison tonight, she had to try and get out of here alive for Pippa's sake.

RUPERT'S BRAIN had frozen. He couldn't think straight, and Ollie seemed compelled to talk nonstop. The words meshed into chaotic noise.

He took one deep cleansing breath and grabbed his mobile phone from his pocket.

Ollie murmured, "I've been trying to call Madison for the last half an hour. It keeps going straight to voicemail."

Indeed, Rupert's call rang and rang again, and was diverted.

"Pippa's been doing all this strange research lately," Ollie volunteered. "Maybe that has something to do with it. I have no idea why Pippa would be involved in all of this, though." His voice broke off.

One person in Oxford might know the answer. It p.i.s.sed Rupert off to ask for his help, but the clock was ticking. Madison had gone AWOL, and her best friend was a murderer. Chatting wasn't going to help him find her.

He rushed out of Pippa's bedroom, cascaded down the stairs two steps at a time and burst out of the house, all with Ollie hot on his heels.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"McCain's."

Chapter 59.

THE STALE AIR AND its musty smell blended with the lingering scent of incense. The resulting odor brought Madison's stomach into her mouth. Swallowing down the bile, she took two silent breaths in an attempt to calm the pounding in her head.

Weary muscles restricted her urge to flee.

"The huntsman has beaten Snow White." Pippa's voice had moved from her usual high-pitched tone down to a deeper one.

Pippa wasn't the one speaking.

Gathering her strength, Madison focused on the energy piling up in her soul and exhorted the spirits of her ancestors. She searched for the prayer from Mamie's book of magic. Her satchel had gone. Her memory went blank, the spirits remained absent, and the energy abated.

The drugs had stolen every aspect of her powers. With all the strength she had remaining, she tried to stand, but her knees buckled beneath her.

"Peter, let her go," Madison pleaded through her trembling lips.

Ignoring the thickness in her throat and the sweat trickling down her face, she continued to beg. "Let her go. She has nothing to do with what happened between the two of us."

"You are so naive, and still so ignorant of the ways of our world." Peter stood and paced the room with a lurching gait. "Philippa offered herself to me. Her jealousy consumed her, and her soul was a wh.o.r.e looking for the highest bidder."

"You're lying. Pippa is generous. She's full of life."

"She hated you. Maybe not right from the start, but when she saw you at the ball seducing the n.o.bleman, hatred and jealousy overcame her. When she noticed Dallembert was following you inside the pub on that day near the Thames, she could hardly control herself. That was when I struck."

"You're lying," Madison repeated, her fists clenched. "She's been with Ollie longer than with anybody else, and he treats her so well."

Peter exhaled and rolled his eyes. "She was h.o.r.n.y. The little man kept her busy, while I used her. Although she always wants more attention from men, like today with that past conquest of hers."

"Shut your mouth, or I'll knock you so hard you'll see tomorrow today." Madison managed to sit up. Straightening her posture, she forged onward. "Pippa doesn't deserve to die because she was jealous of me. I'll give you my life. You can take me with you, but spare her, let her soul and her body be one again."

Madison didn't want to die, and Pippa wasn't the best person she'd ever met. All things considered. But the girl was in that s.h.i.+t because of Madison. If she hadn't come to Oxford, this whole disaster wouldn't have happened.

Peter wasn't interested in her offer. "You are in no position to bargain with me. We are all going."

Madison didn't give up. If her powers weren't strong enough to take him out of Pippa, she had to convince Peter to do so on his own.

With a newfound determination, she waved her hands toward her kidnapper. "I wronged you. I know that, Peter." Her voice cracked. "I now know our story. Robert killed you. You had no choice but to seek revenge."

Her words scored a point. He stopped his pacing and stood with his hands on his hips. "He stabbed me in the heart and stole my child."

Holding herself still, her hands clasped in prayer, Madison ignored the sour taste of the lie. She had to make him believe she was his, and always would be. "He stole our child. I found out today. I was looking for you. I wanted to explain, to apologize. I'm so sorry."

RUPERT HAD BEEN to the professor's once before, to drop off some books his tutor had lent him. The trip took ten minutes, but this time felt endless. During the drive, he and Ollie didn't exchange a single word.

A still-running, black four-wheel drive already occupied the driveway to the American's home. Its motor went off and McCain climbed out.

The wheels of Rupert's Morgan screeched on the gravel. He leaped out of the car before turning off the engine. He stalked toward the compact man, whose eyes were already probing him from across the driveway.

Rupert didn't waste time with formalities. "Have you seen Madison? She's in danger."

The American waved his hand in dismissal. "You're waking up a bit late, Vance. Hillary Lindsey was killed last night. Maybe you should have worried then, when your girlfriend found a corpse in her bedroom."

As much as Rupert wanted to punch McCain's face, he restrained himself. First, Madison had to take priority. Second, the professor was d.a.m.n right.

"You're the one who's late, doctor." The accusation came from Ollie himself.

Rupert turned toward him, but the bright lights of his car blinded him.

McCain continued. "I'm coming back from Christ Church. I left a message in her pigeonhole. Madison must be quite upset. We had an argument yesterday."

Frustration and despair made Rupert grab McCain's arm. The man had to understand how much worse things had gotten. Again, Ollie expressed Rupert's thoughts aloud.

"We know who killed Miss Lindsey. She might be after Madison next-"

Rupert cut him off, "She might have already found her."

Jackson went still, his eyes now dark and serious. "Who is she?"

The name burst out of Rupert and Ollie's mouths at the same time. Shock registered on the American's face. He shook his head in denial, but Rupert explained what they had found in Pippa's room.

The wind had settled down and the treetops above stood unmoving. "Pippa is Peter." Jackson's words resonated in the stillness of the night.

At this point, Rupert didn't have any qualms about that all psychic madness. He was ready to believe anything. He met Jackson's gaze. Their eyes locked, their minds aligned.

"But Peter is dead." Ollie had stepped between them, his fist tapping against his lips.

Jackson asked. "How do you know about him?"

"We visited his grave this morning. Madison was PO'ed to find out he was buried with that Sarah."

A glimpse of hope sprung in Rupert's heart. "Where are they buried?"

"St. Giles."

Jackson sent an inquiring look at Rupert, who answered his silent question. "Let's take your car. Mine is a two-seater."