Diana Racine 02 - Goddess of the Moon

when I get the rest of the information.”
    Without putting down the phone, Lucier tried calling Diana again. No answer. He couldn’t force her to stay home, but she seemed to enjoy flying in the face of danger. He wished she took the two threatening notes seriously. Lucier guessed where she was, which was why she didn’t answer her phone. H e marshaled all his willpower not to go to the mission .
    * * * * *
    D iana sat at the now - cleared table in Slater’s office, demolishing the platters of food one of the women brought in. “You’re right. This meatloaf is delicious, and I’m not a big meatloaf fan .” Diana mixed the meat with mashed potatoes. “ T he corn pudding is excellent.”
    Slater heaped a spoonful of the yellow mixture onto his plate. “You’d think a man wouldn’t beat on a woman who cooks like this b ut beat her he did. She has a restraining order on him. They don’t work. If a man wants to get a woman bad enough, he’ll find a way. She’s safe here for the time being. Problem is most women go back for more. Don’t ask me why.”
    “I won’t because there’s no logical answer.” Diana wiped her mouth and sipped her iced tea. “You’ve piqued my curiosity with your lunch invitation , Edward. Three times. What will you start with, tell, show , or give?”
    Slater laughed and said, “Show.” H e stacked the dishes an d took them to the kitchen.
    She looked around, noticed the camera again. Annoyed, she wished she could turn it off. Was she finally going to learn what Slater kept behind the locked cabinet door?
    Upon returning, he wiped down the desk with a cloth he kept in the bottom drawer. “Don’t want to get crumbs on my treasure,” he said. Unfastening the key ring hooked to the belt loop of his jeans, he unlocked his bookcase.
    Yes.
    Slater brought out what looked to be a very old book and gingerly placed it on the desk as if it were bound in eggshells. “This is a first edition of Edward Burnett Tylor’s Primitive Culture , published in 1871 . ” His smile faded when he saw Diana’s face . “You don’t know what this is, do you?”
    Diana shook her head. “No, I don’t. Other than it must be valuable, I have no idea who Tylor is or what this book is about. Should I?”
    He sighed. “I thought you might, considering your interest in mysticism and religion, the spiritual in general. Tylor was a cultural anthropologist who reintroduced the ancient theory that the soul is the origin of the belief in spirits: animism.”
    “I’m sorry to disappoint you. I’ve only dabbled in mysticism, a cursory education. I never studied it in depth.” She assumed Slater showed his treasure to Jeanne Highsmith and that their conversations were far more comprehensive than any he could carry on with her.
    He pulled out the top desk drawer and extracted a paperback. “ N ow you can read it at your leisure. It’s the same book, though obviously not a first edition, printed in 1958.” He handed it to her , careful to avoid her touch . “Don’t worry, I won’t test you. I just thought you’d be interested.”
    “Of course. I don’t know what to say except thank you. I look forward to reading it.”
    A first edition tome behind the cupboard doors was not what Diana expected. Was she relieved or disappointed? What had she anticipated? No question about her host, however. Disappointment etched his face. He expected more of her.
    “I’ve let you down, Edward. You gave me too much credit.”
    “Not at all. I tend to assume things sometimes. Why would you know of this book? It’s not as if you had time to study this field in depth , always on the road. Your strengths are far more esoteric, more unexplainable than any written word. I apologize. You could never let me down.”
    “Thank you. I look forward to reading this. ” She carefully tucked the book in her purse. “ Now, you mentioned something you wanted to tell me.”
    “Oh, yes, I almost forgot. Brigid and Nona Fulceri came by yesterday.”

Chapter Twenty- Eight
    Hidden Meaning

    I t took a moment for Diana to comprehend what Slater said. When she did, words failed her. She finally found her voice. “Why didn’t you call the authorities? T hose girls are wanted for questioning. They were in that house, nursed the kidnapped babies.”
    Slater leaned forward in his chair, his arms folded on the barren desk. “You don’t know that. The police have no proof other than your impression from a vision. From a vision,