Eye of the Beholder

Alexa." Dylan used the gun to motion the two women back into the store room. "You don't understand," he said as he followed them through the door. "You, Alexa, are the sacrifice. Your death will calm the vortices. Unfortunately, I'm afraid your friend, here, will also have to die. Sorry, ma'am. One of those wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time things, you know?"

    "She's not answering the shop phone or her cell phone." Trask cut the connection.
    "Take it easy," Webster said. "Maybe she's busy with a customer. Or maybe she just stepped out for a moment."
    "I don't like it." Trask picked up his keys and went to the door. "I'm going to drive over to Avalon Plaza . Want to come along?"
    "Yes." Webster went after him. "On the way, you can tell me what you think is going on here."
    "I've got a question for you first." Trask reached the hall and went swiftly toward the stairs. "How long has Dylan been associated with Dimensions?"
    "Since the beginning." Webster descended the staircase behind Trask. "He came to work for me when I opened the Institute."
    "I knew it," Trask said. "I always knew it. Should have figured it all out a hell of a lot sooner."
    "Are you implying that Dylan is the killer?"
    "Yes. He'll be very desperate and very frustrated by now. He'll be looking for someone to blame." Trask hit the first floor and shifted into a run.
    Webster huffed after him. "You think he's a danger to Alexa?"
    "He has the shop two doors down from her, and I can't get her on the phone. What do you think?"
    "I think there may be a problem," Webster muttered.

    "I should have answered the phone," Alexa said. "Someone might wonder why I didn't." Someone like Trask, for instance.
    "Not likely," Dylan said. "Whoever it is will think you're in the rest room or something."
    The call had been from Trask. She was sure of it. Or was desperation causing her to conjure fantasies of rescue?
    Mentally she projected a vision of Trask getting into his Jeep and driving over to the Plaza to see what was going on. It was a weak vision, at best. Maybe she should have paid more attention to some of Webster Bell's theories of positive image projection.
    "What's the plan, Dylan?" Alexa clutched Joanna's journal and tried hard not to look at the gun. Beside her, Harriet appeared uncharacteristically anxious, even dithery.
    "The plan," Dylan said, "is to wait until after
five o'clock
. When the rest of the shops have closed and everyone has gone home for the day, the sacrifice will be made."
    Alexa stared at him. "You think you can just kill me and go on with business as usual?"
    "Unfortunately, I'll have to leave Avalon with my work only partially accomplished." Dylan's eyes slitted . "All because of you. I tried to keep you out of this. I knew that you would disturb the vortices. But you insisted on continuing to interfere. You got involved with him. You slept with him."
    "Trask?"
    "Yes, Trask." Dylan frowned. "It wasn't supposed to end like this. It was supposed to be neat and tidy. All of the forces were supposed to be back in proper alignment by now."
    Harriet put a hand to her throat. "Oh, my, I'm feeling a little dizzy."
    Alexa doubted that Harriet had ever been dizzy in her life, but she refrained from commenting. Instead she looked at Dylan. "Let my friend go. She doesn't know anything about any of this."
    "I can't do that." Dylan glanced at his watch. "She'll cause trouble."
    "She won't go to the cops, if that's what you mean. She has a few issues with the police herself."
    "Really, dear," Harriet said in a weak, breathy voice. "There is no need to air dirty laundry in front of strangers."
    Dylan scowled. "I don't care if she's wanted for murder. I can't trust her. I'm not letting her leave."
    "Is it hot in here or is it just me?" Harriet asked.
    Alexa summoned up what she hoped was an anxious expression. "Maybe you'd better sit down, Mac."
    She used her eyes to indicate a rank of winged lions. Understanding flashed in Harriet's gaze.
    If they could put a few of the cartons full of stone pedestals and imitation statuary between themselves and Dylan, they might be able to use them as a barricade. With luck, one of them, at least, might make it into the outer room when the shooting started.
    "Yes, I suppose that would be best." Harriet tottered to the row of heavy lions and started to lower herself onto a carton. "My doctor told me to avoid undue excitement."
    "Don't move," Dylan said sharply. "Stay right where you are."
    "Whatever you say," Harriet