Secret Passage. Amanda Stevens

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СКАЧАТЬ snow, Zac caught a glimpse of the limo gliding to the curb, as if the driver had been summoned by a telepathic command. A moment later, they were gone.

      FOR THE REST OF THE EVENING, Zac tried to ignore the warning bells clanging inside his head, the gnawing sensation in his gut that told him disaster lurked around the corner. As he got ready to close up, he tried to convince himself that Von Meter was just some weird old guy getting off by messing with his head.

      But as the night wore on, so did Zac’s uneasiness.

      Locking up, he grabbed his coat, then paused on his way out as his gaze lit on the card still lying faceup on the bar. His first instinct was to toss it the way he had the other one, but, changing his mind, he grabbed it and stuffed it into his coat pocket as he headed out the door.

      The snow was coming down harder now. Shivering in his lightweight jacket, Zac paused in front of the tattoo parlor next door to watch. Even in the garish lights, the flakes were beautiful. White. Crystalline. Dreamlike. Their delicate beauty reminded him of something…someone…

      “I created her. I put her in your head. She was my gift to you.”

      Zac tried to conjure an image of the woman now, but suddenly she was more elusive than ever.

      “Memories are a funny thing, Zac. In the right hands, they can be manipulated, suppressed, planted. How can you know what’s real? And do you really want to know?”

      Ducking his head from the cold, Zac hurried down the street. The wind blowing off the Delaware River was brutal tonight, but luckily, he didn’t have far to go. The two-room flat he rented was just at the end of the street.

      He was halfway home, lost in thought, when a cab pulled to the curb beside him. As Zac strode past, he could see that the driver was alone in the car. He sat slumped in the seat, arms folded, as if waiting for a fare.

      But the streets were deserted.

      Except for Zac.

      His hands were in his pockets and he fingered the business card he’d stuffed in there earlier. He pulled it out now and gazed at the name and address under the streetlight.

      Backtracking down the sidewalk, he rapped his knuckles on the driver’s window. “Hey, you waiting for somebody?”

      The driver rolled down the glass. “Just you, buddy. Where you want to go?”

      “Chestnut Hill.” Zac gave the man the address, then asked about the fare. Whistling softly at the amount, he mentally counted the cash he had in his wallet. The trip would take about half of what he had on him—his life savings—but what the hell? Who needed to eat?

      Climbing into the back of the cab, Zac leaned his head against the shabby upholstery, enjoying the warmth from the heater. He must have dozed off because it seemed like only moments later that the driver was rousing him.

      “Hey, buddy, you awake back there?”

      Zac sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, I’m awake.” But he had the disconcerting notion that he had somehow been transported to a strange, new world. The neighborhood was one of those dreamy, Christmas-card-looking places made even more surreal by the swirling snow.

      “Pretty swanky address, if you don’t mind my saying so,” the driver observed.

      Yeah, Zac thought. And why do I have the feeling I’m about to fall down a rabbit hole?

      He paid the man, then got out and stood for a moment, gazing around. Von Meter’s place was a three-story redbrick town house segregated from the street by an ornate wrought-iron fence. The gate had been left ajar, as if in anticipation of Zac’s arrival.

      He stepped into the courtyard, a frozen wonderland with icicles dripping from a fountain and stone statuary cloaked in snow. If possible the wind was harsher here than on the waterfront, and Zac hurried up the cobblestone walkway to ring the front bell. A uniformed maid promptly answered the door. “Yes?”

      “My name is Zac Riley. I’m here to see Dr. Von Meter.”

      He wouldn’t have been surprised if the young woman had turned him away, but instead she smiled and curtsied and beckoned him inside the warm house. “Please come in, Mr. Riley. Dr. Von Meter is expecting you.”

      “He is?”

      “Why, yes, of course. May I take your coat?”

      “No, I think I’ll keep it if you don’t mind.” Never knew when you might need to make a speedy exit, Zac decided, his gaze taking in the luxurious surroundings.

      The foyer was large and spacious with an inlaid wood floor, a magnificent, curving staircase and a domed skylight from which one could watch the clouds by day and the stars by night. Tonight, however, the etched glass was banked with snow, giving Zac a touch of claustrophobia.

      The maid led him down a dim hallway to a set of ornate wooden doors, which she drew open after a discreet knock. The room inside was richly furnished in leather and tapestries and floor-to-ceiling bookcases packed with gilded tomes. It smelled of cigar smoke and old secrets.

      Von Meter stood at the window, staring out.

      “Mr. Riley is here to see you,” the maid announced softly.

      The old man didn’t say a word, but a brief nod of his head seemed communication enough for the maid. She motioned Zac inside, then backed out of the room. Only when he heard the doors close did Von Meter finally turn.

      He looked different tonight. His hair was a dingy white, like day-old snow, and his face was even leaner than Zac remembered, the frail, taut skin appearing to have the suppleness of parchment.

      “This is some place,” Zac said.

      Von Meter smiled faintly. “It’s old and drafty, but it suits my needs.”

      Something about the comment made Zac wonder if they’d had a similar conversation before. “It beats the dump I’m staying in now,” he said with a shrug.

      “Perhaps.” The old man walked over to his desk and sat down, then gestured to a chair across from him. “But your apartment has its attractions, does it not? I’m referring to the young lady in 3C, of course.”

      The muscles in Zac’s stomach tightened. “How do you know about her?”

      “The two of you have become quite close in recent weeks. I’m afraid that has to end. You can’t afford the distraction.”

      Zac leaped to his feet, the old man’s presumption making him suddenly furious. “What is this? How do you know about my personal life? How the hell do you know anything about me?”

      Von Meter remained outwardly complacent. “Please try to calm yourself. Everything will be clear to you soon.”

      He pressed a button on his desk, and, a moment later, the maid opened the door. “Yes?”

      “Is Roth still here?”

      “I believe he’s in the solarium, sir.”

      “Would you ask him to come in?”

      “Of СКАЧАТЬ