Eye of the Beholder

this can wait until morning..."
    "No. It can't wait. Listen, Strood, Alexa and I have been talking. For a variety of reasons, we think you should look into the possibility that Stewart Lutton , the guy who runs Cafe Solstice at Avalon Plaza , may know something about what's going on."
    " Lutton ?"
    "I'll be glad to give you our thinking on this. We may be totally off base, but it's a place to start."
    Silence vibrated on the other end of the line.
    "Huh," Strood said.
    Trask heard the scrape of metal and what sounded like the grinding of a heavy-duty winch.
    "Strood?"
    "Yeah?"
    "Where, exactly, is the scene of that accident?"
    "Funny you should ask. Avalon Point."
    Trask shut his eyes. He felt Alexa's hand close around his shoulder. "Not again."
    "Apparent suicide," Strood said quietly. "Even left a helpful note."
    A sense of grim certainty settled on Trask. "Who's the victim?"
    "Stewart Lutton . Drove his motorcycle off the cliff. In the note we found in his RV, he says something about the Guardian's work being finished."

33

    She dreamed of monsters again that night. Jaws gaped, eyes gleamed, teeth protruded, tongues lolled. But none of the beasts had the power to truly scare her. She walked among them casually, as if they were familiar pets or, at the very least, business associates. She was searching for something but the monsters kept getting in her way ...

    Alexa was worried about Trask. She knew that he was waiting for an answer to the phone call he had placed earlier. He had asked his investigator to find out when Stewart Lutton had moved to Avalon.
    They still did not know much more than they did after Strood's call last night. The chief had been too busy to give them all the details. In any event, the investigation was still ongoing. From what Alexa could gather, the note Stewart had left claimed responsibility for the attempted murders of Joanna Bell and Foster Radstone and for the death of Dean Guthrie. According to Strood, Stewart had made some bizarre claim about having had a vision in which the ghost of King Arthur had appointed him the Guardian Knight of the Dimensions Institute.
    Stewart's note had not, however, mentioned Harry Trask or the events of the past.
    She watched Trask covertly across the breakfast cart as he drank coffee and munched eggs with methodical efficiency. She could feel the prowling tension in him. He would not be able to relax until he had the answers to the questions that had haunted him for twelve years.
    She had to admit, she was more than a little curious herself, now. How long had Stewart lived in Avalon? she wondered.
    She took a sip of the tea that the hotel kitchen had prepared in a china pot. The label read English Breakfast and carried the resort's signature logo. Some generic blend, she decided. It was okay, for hotel tea. Nevertheless, the executive chef would have done well to consult with Stewart before selecting a supplier.
    Stewart.
    The phone rang. Alexa was closer to it than Trask so she picked up the receiver. "Hello?"
    There was a short, startled pause before a deep masculine voice said, "I'm calling for JL Trask. Did I get the wrong number?"
    "No, he's here. Just a second." Alexa handed the phone across the cart.
    Trask took it from her. "Phil? What? No, that wasn't the maid." He flashed Alexa a sudden, amused glance and then looked away. "A friend."
    Alexa considered that closely. Anyway you looked at it, "a friend" covered a lot of ground.
    "What did you get on Lutton ?" Trask asked. Alexa realized that he was talking to the investigator he had mentioned, Phil Okuda. Very slowly she put down her cup. She watched Trask's face, conscious of the tension in her own stomach.
    "Five years ago? You're sure?" Trask met Alexa's eyes. "No chance he was involved with the Institute before that?"
    Her heart sank. He was not getting the answers he had wanted. So much for tying up the loose ends. "I see. All right, that settles it," he said much too evenly. "That's what I wanted to know. Yes, keep looking for Liz Guthrie. When you find her, have her give me a call. Right. I'll talk to you later."
    He hung up the phone and looked at Alexa with stony eyes. "You heard?"
    "Stewart came to Avalon five years ago?"
    "Yes." He rubbed the back of his neck. After a moment he picked up his empty coffee mug and got to his feet. He went to the counter and grabbed the pot. " Lutton was living in the San Francisco Bay area when Dad went off Avalon Point. He was doing eighteen months