Thorn by Fred Saberhagen (reading like a writer TXT) 📕

      Ellison switched on another light. “He’s taken our car,” he said. His wife did not answer, and he glared at her. “Well, hasn’t he?”

      Stephanie gave him back a strange look. “I don’t know. It may not have been him who did it.”

      “No?” Ellison was suddenly aware of the gun still in his hand, though it was hanging motionless with muzzle pointing down at the carpet. “There was no one else in the house.” At that she looked more peculiar than ever. “Was there? Was there? Stef, why did you do it?”

      His wife only sighed, a sound blending weariness and impatience. “Oh Ellison. Do what?” For some reason she had never adopted any diminutive or nickname for him. Sometimes in the past he had wished secretly that she would do so.

      The gun like a great weight seemed to pull his arm down toward the floor. “Don’t pretend to be stupid. You guided him out of the house for some reason—”

      “I was with you when the alarm went off.”

      “—and you arranged somehow to give him the keys to the car. You may have done a lot of damage to important plans, plans that you don’t begin to understand.”

      “I don’t begin to understand?”

      “Did it worry you so much, that I might decide to have him killed? Your own daughter was killed and you got through that.” Then Ellison thought to himself: I shouldn’t have said that.

      “Ellison. I didn’t help him. I didn’t know he was going to leave. I didn’t want him to leave until it could be decided what to do about him. If he had any help it came from someone else. And you don’t have to be so secretive, about your plans to sell the painting secretly and make a fortune, you and Del. Del’s told me about that. Or your own bombing scheme. Del wasn’t too happy about that one.” She paused, sniffing. “Oh my God,” she said.

      “What?”

      “Don’t you smell it?”

      “What?”

      “Very faint, but it’s there. The perfume Helen used to like to use.”

      “Stef, this is very stupid. You’re trying to distract me. There was no one else in this house, and someone helped that boy to get away and steal my car. He couldn’t have done it without help. Even if he’d found the keys, how could he have avoided the other alarms?”

      “I’m not trying to distract you, Ellison, I’m trying to explain something. But I suppose I ought to leave it to Del. Oh God, don’t you know anything of what’s going on?”

      That stopped even Ellison, for a moment. “Now just what in hell is that supposed to mean?”

      “I wish you’d put that gun away. There are no burglars. It’ll be better if Del explains to you himself. When was the last time you talked to him?”

      “I haven’t seen him since the kidnapping setup, and the last time he called was days ago. It bothers me when he calls, though he keeps assuring me that the phone here isn’t tapped by anyone. How can he know that?”

      “Oh.” Abruptly Stephanie was almost smiling. “He now has ways of telling, about things like that.”

      “That’s exactly what he said. I don’t understand what it means, and I don’t like it. He’s taking too many chances.”

      “He did tell you that he means to come here tonight?”

      Ellison was astonished. “Of course, he told me. I didn’t know he’d let you in on it too. He talks too much. And that’s another thing, his coming here. When I asked him how he knew the house wasn’t being watched, he just laughed. He wouldn’t even discuss it.”

      “If Del says it’s all right, then it’s all right, Ellison. Believe me.”

      “Why? Will you answer that simple question for me?”

      “Del,” said Stephanie, in a new voice. Ellison spent a moment trying to make sense of this as an answer, and then realized that it had been a greeting instead. She was looking over his shoulder.

      Beyond a doorway, in the dimness of the next room, towered a figure as tall as Ellison himself, almost as broad. It certainly looked like Del, though Ellison could not at first make out the face in the dim light. It looked like Del, but something had been changed—but it was Del, it was so like him to stand there like that, listening, not saying a word until he was discovered.

      Ellison cleared his throat. “I didn’t hear you come in. How did you get here? How do you know the house isn’t being watched? What if—”

      The figure came toward them, moving with Del’s walk into the light. Del’s face, undoubtedly. But vastly changed, young, lean, no longer sagging in cheek and jowl, under a full head of crisp brown hair.

      Del looked at least thirty years younger than when Ellison had seen him last. How? Plastic surgery? More than that. But what?

      “Del. You’re … you’re…

      “Ellison. You’re you’re you’re.” Del’s rejuvenated voice mocked him, while Del’s young face smiled. “You’re you’re you’re. Still as much of an idiot as ever.”

      Then the smile, changing as it moved, was turned on Stephanie. “All this ringing on the radiophone would seem to indicate something serious. I was coming anyway, so I thought I’d just come over instead of answering.” Del’s manner was supremely confident. “What’s it all about?”

      Stephanie took a step closer to Del, reaching for his hand. “I’m so glad you did. There was a boy here. Ellison thinks maybe he was one of the kids you … who was at the house in Phoenix once. The boy kept asking for Annie. Said he knew that Annie was here, and he didn’t want to go away. Now he’s gone, and so is one of the cars.”

      Del’s forehead creased in a mild frown. He glanced up quickly at the ceiling. “Did you—?”

      “No, I haven’t been up there. I don’t know if she’s there now or not. And I haven’t talked to Ellison about her being there. I’ve been waiting for you to do that.”

      “A wise decision,” said Del.

      Ellison raised his voice. “Will someone kindly inform me what is going