By the time I’d finished telling him all that had happened to me that morning, and all I’d learned about Zara – as well as assuring him I’d done as much as I could for Serendipity along the way – I felt exhausted. As did Bud, by the looks of him. He’d scratched his head, paced, exclaimed, and pored over photographs on my phone that I stuck under his nose.
“Do you think Zara was really threatening you? With what? Voices from beyond?” Bud sounded both annoyed, and incredulous.
“It’s all a power play,” I said, dismissing her words for being as toothless as I knew they were, “but she’s obviously been researching me – or us. She seems to have gathered a lot of information.”
“As they say – knowledge is power.”
“Pithy, and true. And I’d like some more power myself – so what knowledge have you gained since we parted?”
“Nothing more on the McGlynns or Ambroise: photos of them might help in that regard. Nothing on the Cayman Islands company either. But I did learn a lot from Jenn, who was enjoying a bit of a lull – though, to be honest, she seems to be set to run at full speed all the time, so downtime isn’t something she truly grasps, I don’t think. And I was rather pleased with myself for having taken your thumb drives with me, because, when she left me alone, I managed to download what I think might help me find out more about our nameless friends, and help you understand more about the whole Faceting organization.”
He held up the thumb drives, looking triumphant.
“What did you get?”
“The members’ commitment questionnaires KSue told us about? There are thousands of them on these three sticks – I could tell that much, but I haven’t had a chance to open any of them – so why don’t we look together?”
We did, and I knew we’d struck gold. The first breakthrough was that we now had photographs of Ambroise and both McGlynns for Bud to send to his contacts; the second was that it was clear every person who’d ever committed to becoming a Facetor had not only shared personal information about themselves, their families, and their extended families, but had also been profiled using a psychometric test, which evaluated their personality type.
“This is amazing, Bud. This is part of how Zara does it – understands how to speak to different groups and types of people in different ways. It’s a break-down of how best to manipulate people – a blueprint for milking them. Look, all their finances are here – how much they earn, what they’re worth, what their family is worth. It allows for targeting. Good grief – this is nuts.”
“I thought we didn’t use that term around here.” Bud smiled. “I did the right thing, then?”
“As you said, knowledge is power, and this offers untold power. No wonder she’s so smug – she’s got an attack plan for everyone based upon the information they’ve given her. I’ve been annoyed with myself that I couldn’t put my finger on how such a comparatively young woman could be so self-possessed. Now I know – she feels that way because she really does have something on everyone.”
Bud shook his head. “But wouldn’t she need someone with computer knowledge to be able to access all this data? I mean look at it – there’s so much. From all around the world. Thousands and thousands of forms, each containing a mass of data. I had no idea there were so many Facetors, and I mean…how would she even navigate it all? I know you’ve told me what you found at Oscar’s dig, and it sounds very much as though he really was the dreamer KSue said he was, but do you think he could have been some sort of computer whizz, on the side?”
I didn’t think so, and we talked about the possibility of there being someone else involved in the Faceting organization at a high enough level to be able to set up all the computing systems it would take to allow so much data to be trawled and put to use.
“KSue’s donkey-like novices with family in Silicone Valley – do you think that might be a lead?” I could tell Bud was reaching – and so was I.
I gave the matter some thought. “Husband, tell me your impression of Jenn.”
Bud looked surprised but responded thoughtfully. “To be honest, she doesn’t seem to fit in here. She’s the only person I’ve had a conversation with who hasn’t almost immediately started going on about Demetrius’s omniscience, and the role of multiple planes. She’s…she’s not exactly heartless, but certainly coolly task-focused. Efficient, rather than emotionally connected to Faceting, like everyone else we’ve met. She told me earlier that she’d always worked doing what she’s doing here, so I believe she’s a true professional – rather than someone who happened to be here and has taken on a particular project.”
“Do you think she might be a person who would, let’s say, be swayed by our theories?”
Bud ran his hand through his hair. “In my opinion…of all those we’ve met so far, I’d say yes. But, to be honest, I’d have said that about Serendipity, too – but she seems pretty stuck into the whole Faceting thing…deeper than I’d imagined.”
“About Serendipity – we need to keep an eye on her. There’s something in play there we don’t yet understand. My instincts tell me it’s connected to Oscar’s death, rather than Linda’s.”
“But you’ve no idea what that might be?”
“I think it’s got something to do with the missing canvas bags…” I mused.
“What canvas bags?”
“The pile that went missing from…oh, didn’t I mention that?” Bud made his playfully-annoyed face at me. “Sorry – got a bit sidetracked with the whole Serendipity-locked-in-a-freezer thing. Yes – there was a stack of canvas bags with the Faceting logo on them at the restaurant, and they’re missing.”
“And you think these bags are connected to Oscar’s death, in some way?” I nodded. Bud pulled a face suggesting he thought I was a bit batty. “And what else do you think it’s connected to?”
I shook my head. “I need a nap.” I could feel myself falling into a stupor as I sat there – which is quite unlike me.
Bud looked concerned. “What have you eaten today? You have eaten something since that breakfast, right?” I shook my head. “Oh, for goodness sake, Cait. What have you drunk? Any water?”
“I drank another one of those juice things.” I could feel myself going.
“Right, into that bed now. Drink the water I’m about to bring you, then sleep. That’s it, Wife – you need your rest.”
“But there’s so much to do…”
“Sleep. That’s an order. You promised to obey me, in our wedding vows.”
“Oh no I didn’t…”
The next thing I knew it was a few hours later, and I could smell coffee. Until I opened my eyes I thought I was dreaming, but it was real enough, and I gulped it down, hot though it was. I felt as though I’d been put through a wringer, then hung out to dry in the sun for hours – my skin actually felt crispy.
“I knew you’d want coffee, but now you have to drink two glasses of water…and have a shower. You’ve been drained by that juice. Do you know what’s in it?” Bud sounded cross.
I was confused. “You said berries. The label said berries. I thought it was berries. Why? What’s in it?”
“I checked with Serendipity – yes, I’ve seen her, and she’s fine, by the way, still pretty rattled, but fine – and I told her how you’d been up all night on that juice and she said she wasn’t surprised; apparently it’s full of guarana, which technically are berries, I guess. That juice has about six times the caffeine that’s in coffee – which is why you didn’t sleep, and why you just kept going all day, too. This coffee should give you a bit of a boost, without taking you back to the levels you’ve been at for so long.”
I sat where I was and took my telling off; Bud was right, I should have known better than to pound something down without really knowing what was in it, though I did mention once or twice that he was the one who’d brought it back to the dig. It was ironic, really, because I usually avoid fruit, berries, and other healthy things, like the plague, and the one time I’d actually enjoyed the flavor of something that was seemingly good for me it turned out it was anything but. Lesson learned.
“So why does Serendipity even have it in her restaurant if it’s so overstimulating?” I thought it a reasonable question.
Bud sighed, and sat beside me. “It’s favored by the drivers who will be ferrying her guests back and forth. She also stores it at the restaurant then sends it over to the refectory where it’s a very popular drink among those who do the more energetic tasks around the place, apparently. But she reckons a person should be limited to just one bottle per day. How many have you had, since last night?”
I felt guilty as I replied, “Three.”
“Well, no more.” Bud hugged me, then added, “Now hit the shower – we’re due to meet Serendipity at the refectory for dinner – she’s not up to working in the kitchen this evening; Dr. Nderu had to re-do a few of her stitches, and he’s forbidden her to work at all. In fact, he’s decided to stay on, so he’s on hand if needed. She can tell you all about it herself, but she’s still hoping that she’ll be good enough to open up again tomorrow, if the doc gives her the all-clear.”
I felt a bit wobbly when I stood up. “I’m sorry, Bud, I feel as though I’ve let the side down a bit. But you’re right, I need to get myself cleaned up, and I should feel a lot fresher after a shower. By the way – how long before we have to get out of here?”
Bud checked his watch. “You’ve got thirty minutes, tops, so you’d better get going. Then we can get some food into you, too, and I’m sure that’ll set you right.”
Three quarters of an hour later we were seated at one of the long tables at the refectory with plates of vegetarian goulash in front of us – though, sadly, the only thing that could be said to be remotely goulash-y about the dish was the overwhelming aroma of paprika. But I knew I needed to eat, so wolfed it down while Bud just picked at his, peering about.
“I don’t know what’s happened to Serendipity,” he said, “I hope she’s okay.”
We weren’t particularly near any of the other diners, so I whispered, “Where was she, when you saw her earlier on? You haven’t told me what you were up to while I was asleep yet.”
Bud finished chewing. “She was on her way back to her dig. Norman was with her, and she was going to have a lie down after the doc had fixed her up. He’d given her some more of those painkillers. Maybe she fell asleep and no one woke her – though I’d have thought Ambroise would have looked in on her, wouldn’t you?”
“They’re not a couple, Bud. Just friends.” Though I share most things with Bud, I hadn’t mentioned the thing about Ambroise swearing himself to celibacy, because I felt Serendipity had told me that in confidence, and it didn’t really seem pertinent to our inquiries. “Maybe he was tied up doing something else?”
“But she was attacked, Cait, and literally tied up!” Bud was hissing. “What I can’t get over is the way no one’s running about trying to find out what happened to her…and it’s yet another incident no one has called the cops about. That’s not normal. I know we could have done more – or maybe not. By the time I saw her she was downplaying the whole thing. Kept saying it would all be fine…though she looked pinched, nervous…far from happy about it all. Tell me, how shaken was she when it happened?”
I took a moment to recall every detail of finding her, and being with her immediately afterwards. “Initially she was still in shock, and overwhelmed with relief at being found – and feeling the physical effects of hypothermia, of course. But, as we talked, I got the impression she was much calmer than one might imagine, despite saying she was shaken by it, her demeanor suggested she was coping quite well. Better than I would have been, in any case.”
“Do you think the Faceting thing was helping her cope? You know, was she doing any ‘buffing’ while you two were together?”
I gave Bud’s question some thought. “Hard to say – she’s seemed a bit up and down since we got here, not calm like she was when we first knew her. But she’s facing a great deal of responsibility here, and her stress levels might be through the roof because of that.”
I was about to add another observation or two that I’d made, when Serendipity herself entered the refectory, and made a beeline for us. She was accompanied by Norman and Elizabeth, who were both wearing expressions of concern, and appeared to be making a distinct effort to not physically help Serendipity cross the room.
“You sit there, and we’ll sort out some food for you,” said Elizabeth solicitously.
“Yes, just wait, we’ll bring everything you need,” agreed Norman. “Leave it to us.”
The pair headed for the serving area, and Serendipity slid onto the end of the bench, which was by far the easiest seat for her to take, given her injury.
“How are you feeling?” I was genuinely concerned for her; her face was drawn, her complexion had taken on a sallow hue, and her entire body was sagging just a little. She looked completely…defeated.
“I’m fine, thanks,” she lied. “Just a bit tired, you know.”
Bud leaned across. “Did you manage to sleep?”
Serendipity nodded, gently. “Yes, those pills are pretty strong. Knocked me out. Still a bit groggy, to be honest. And not much appetite – though I know I must eat – my body needs fuel, to heal.”
“Quite right, too,” said Elizabeth, as she placed a plate of goulash on the table, and Norman matched it with a tumbler of water, and another of milk. “Solids, and fluids – come on now, get it all down.”
Elizabeth sounded as though she were talking to a pet, rather than a person.
“Don’t rush it, though – take it easy,” added Norman, sounding a little more sympathetic to Serendipity’s condition.
“I had a nap, too – I drank too much of that purple juice stuff, and crashed and burned a bit,” I admitted.
“Bud asked me about that,” said Serendipity, eyeing her food with trepidation. “How much did you drink?”
“Three bottles.”
“Good grief, that would keep me awake for a week,” said Norman, tucking into his own food.
“You’re familiar with it then?” I wondered why.
Elizabeth jumped in. “Our drivers use it…the restaurant drivers. Helps them keep sharp on the roads. It might not look as though there’s a great deal of traffic out this way, but there are all sorts of creatures and other hazards that can catch out an inattentive driver, aren’t there, Norman?” She was now speaking to her husband as though he were her child; she was starting to annoy me.
“Indeed there are, dear. Any number of hazards.” Norman spoke through his food. “But they’ve all had good journeys so far.”
“Why have they had any journeys at all?” I asked. “The restaurant hasn’t opened yet – so who have they been driving?”
Elizabeth replied, “Norman thought it best that every driver had a few test journeys, always leaving here after dark – so they’d know the road for when they’re carrying passengers. They were paid the going rate to do it, of course, and Serendipity’s been most accommodating in serving them refreshments, even before the restaurant was fully equipped. Such a professional. It was a sound idea, and it’s run smoothly, so far. My husband has recruited some excellent drivers.”
“Thank you, dear. The fact we only wanted drivers of electric vehicles meant it took me a little longer than I’d hoped, and the ones based out of state took a little convincing, of course. I guess we’ll need to keep recruiting over time, but I’m sure that will be easier, once the word gets around.”
“I bet,” said Bud. “Being paid to drive, getting a full charge for their vehicle, and a slap-up dinner for free? It’s a good deal for the drivers. They come from out of state, too, you say? Wouldn’t restaurant guests coming that far just plan to stay overnight in any case?”
“It’s all about options, isn’t it, Norman?” Serendipity spoke quietly.
Bud shrugged. “I guess.” He sounded doubtful. “But you’re right about one thing, Norman, night driving’s no joke, though I expect the challenges are a bit different here than they are at home for us. We have pretty temperate weather, but snow and ice are a problem at certain times of the year – then there are the wild animals too, of course – and some of those are pretty big.”
I suspected we were about to have a conversation about bears, but Serendipity interrupted with: “I think whoever put me in that meat locker today did take something. Other than those canvas bags.”
We all gave her our attention. “What?” I asked.
Serendipity pushed her food around her plate. “We haven’t had any paying customers yet, as you know, and we’ll only be dealing in cash when we open – one of the downsides of not having any connectivity at the restaurant. Oddly enough, it’s been something those who have booked already have commented upon – the novelty of using actual cash.”
“And?” Bud leaned in.
“Well, because of all that I haven’t kept much money in the till – you’ve all noticed it, right? It’s that lovely old brass piece – beautiful, but not terribly secure – so I just keep enough in there to pay any suppliers I know are delivering that day, or to pay the drivers for their test runs, as Norman mentioned. But there was quite a lot of cash in the safe.”
Bud and I chorused, “What safe?”
Serendipity addressed the tabletop. “The safe in the kitchen. Hidden inside one of the under-counter cabinets. It’s empty.”
“How much is missing?” Bud sounded grim.
Serendipity took a deep breath. “I’m not absolutely certain – but something over sixty-five thousand. To be honest, there’s been a lot more in there at certain times during the past few weeks, but I think that’s about how much was left.”
“How’d they get into it?” Bud was on full alert.
Serendipity shook her head. “I don’t know. It was open when I checked. It didn’t look…broken.”
“Sixty-five thousand dollars?” Bud spoke quietly.
“I can’t be sure without Elizabeth going over the figures.” Serendipity was almost whispering.
I looked at Elizabeth. “You keep Serendipity’s books?”
“She’s wonderful with numbers,” said Norman, proudly.
“I keep my own records,” replied Serendipity, “but I’m not up to the accounting and reporting, so Elizabeth does that. Or she will be, when we get going, won’t you? All the systems and spreadsheets are ready to go.”
Elizabeth nodded.
“She does all the accounting for the Faceting movement, overall,” boasted Norman, “and she’s agreed to do this as well. I couldn’t be prouder, though we both know it might eat into the literacy effort, which is getting harder to sustain from out here anyhow. But there are other ways to give, and we’re doing our part in that respect, I believe.”
“You should definitely report the attack and the theft to the police,” said Bud, clearly not about to allow himself to be sidetracked. “This is a crime – no question about it. A felony.”
Serendipity pushed away her plate. “Would…the person who did it go to prison?” She sounded horrified.
Bud’s tone was professional. “If I remember correctly, it could be three or four years, up to maybe twenty-five, I believe. But you should call the cops. If you’re insured and intend to make a claim, you’ll need a record of the police report in any case.”
Serendipity stood, swaying a little. “No. No report. No claim. It’s just money. I’ll call Dad about it. He’ll replace it. I don’t want the movement to lose that much – Dad won’t even notice.”
I said, “That’s a great deal of money, Serendipity…but the main thing is that you were attacked, quite ferociously, don’t forget that. Whoever left you in that freezer could have killed you. This is serious – you need to deal with it through the proper channels. You could have died.” I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t get through to her.
Serendipity raised her head. “No. No. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m going to bed. I need rest. Dr. Nderu said I need rest. Goodnight.”
She tottered off; Elizabeth followed her, and tried to hug her, but was fobbed off. As Serendipity left, Dr. Nderu rose from his seat near the door and followed her out, but her departure went generally unnoticed otherwise – except at our table.
Elizabeth chatted to a few people on her way back to us, and by the time she returned, Bud, Norman, and I were experiencing something of an awkward silence.
“That’s a great deal of money,” muttered Bud. “Why is everyone so set against using law enforcement out here?”
Both Norman and Elizabeth shrugged, as though it were natural, or at least of no consequence. I was counting my teeth to force myself to not ask the pair why they were using false names, when Bud said, “There’s a lot going on here that would interest the cops. Oscar’s ‘accidental’ death, Linda’s convenient passing, now theft with potentially deadly assault – and yet no one, not one person here, is interested in a formal investigation.”
“Why would we need one, when we have you and Cait here?” Don had appeared from the kitchen, and was beside us. He spoke loudly enough that a few heads turned; his tone angry.
“What do you mean?” Elizabeth snapped.
Don continued, “I thought we were just having a friendly chat earlier on, Cait, but you were grilling me about Oscar and his background – that’s right, isn’t it? And Dru Ann told me that Bud was questioning her about our elders, who have passed. Wanted to know all about how they’d died. Isn’t that right?” Gone was the chummy Don we’d chatted with earlier in the day – this version of the man wore a frown, and his voice carried an edge.
More heads had turned, and the murmur of general chatter that had prevailed throughout dinner stopped altogether. I could sense a shift in the atmosphere in the room, and it wasn’t good.
Don realized he was the center of attention, and addressed everyone in the refectory. “These two are poking into our business, wanting to call the cops on us. He’s a retired cop himself – and not just that, but a homicide detective, and then involved with some anti-drug squad. That’s the kind of guy he is – probably more rotten than the people he helped lock away. And her? Cait Morgan isn’t just a professor of criminal psychology, oh no, she’s a busybody who leaves a trail of death and disaster in her wake wherever she goes. Keep an eye on these two until they leave…you have been warned.” He glowed with anger as he spoke, then turned – his work done – and disappeared into the kitchen.
I noticed that both Elizabeth and Norman physically recoiled from Bud and me as Don was speaking, and they didn’t make eye contact at all after he’d left. The rest of the diners stared at us – and the looks we were getting were far from friendly. Hissing and whispering followed as conversations started up, and I could only imagine the nature of those comments.
Norman and Elizabeth stood, picked up their dishes – and Serendipity’s – and cleared them away. All we got were two curt “Goodnights” as they left us alone at our table.
Bud whispered, “There goes any chance of having more investigative chats, I believe, Wife.”
I nodded. “I agree. No help from anyone – except maybe our hostess?”
Bud stood. “Come on, let’s get back to our dig. This place doesn’t feel…healthy any longer. We need to regroup.”