The Vanishing Stair (Truly Devious #2)(17)

“I’m trying to find Olivia,” Catalina said.

“Gone,” Marge said. “I saw ’em take her away.”

Catalina fought back the panic. She warned herself that you couldn’t always take Marge too literally.

“Who took Olivia?” she asked.

“The clones from Riverview.”

This was getting worse by the second. But questioning Marge was a tricky business.

“Did Olivia know the Riverview clones?” Catalina asked, searching for a path through Marge’s worldview, which was organized according to an elaborate conspiracy theory involving evil human scientists who worked for the rulers of the planet Riverview. The Riverview folks planned to conquer Earth, but they were still in the exploration and discovery stage. Hence the occasional alien abduction.

“Olivia didn’t know who was in the car,” Marge said. “Soon as she realized there were clones inside, she tried to get out, but they wouldn’t let her.”

“What kind of car?”

“The wrong car,” Marge said. “That’s how they grabbed me, too. Tricked me into getting into the wrong car and then they took me away.”

Catalina tried again. “What color was the car that Olivia got into?”

“Black.”

“Can you describe it?”

“Big one. Sort of like a cross between a truck and a regular car.”

An SUV, Catalina decided. Unfortunately, that described a huge percentage of the vehicles on the road in the Pacific Northwest, including the one that she and Olivia had purchased together for their occasional trips to Fogg Lake. The mountain roads were not well maintained in the vicinity of the lake. Access to the town often required a rugged vehicle, not the nondescript little compacts they used in the city for errands and for occasional stakeouts.

Marge popped the top on a can of soda and waited.

“Can you describe the people who took Olivia?” Catalina said.

Marge frowned. “Bad energy.”

“What color was their hair?”

“Couldn’t tell. The windows of the car were dark. Just caught a glimpse of some of the energy around the driver and the guy in the back seat.”

“Did you notice the license plates?”

Catalina asked the question with no real hope of a helpful answer. “No plates,” Marge said. “I looked.”

That came as startling news.

“You checked for license plates?” Catalina asked.

“I may be crazy but I’m not stupid. Knew you’d come around looking for Olivia.”

“Why didn’t you tell a cop what you saw?”

“Cops think I’m just a crazy old lady. If I told ’em what I saw they’d take me to some clinic where they would shoot me full of drugs and make me go numb again.”

“The cops think I’m a crazy lady, too,” Catalina said.

And maybe she would be in Marge’s place now, she thought, if her parents hadn’t raised her in Fogg Lake and instilled in her the importance of gaining control of her second sight so that she could pass for normal.

“Nah, the cops don’t think you’re crazy,” Marge said. She winked. “They just think you’re a fake psychic. Pretty good disguise, by the way. Wish I’d thought of it a few years back. If I’d played my cards right, I coulda made some real money.”

“Why didn’t you tell me what happened to Olivia before now?” Catalina asked. “I’ve lost so much time.”

Marge chugged more soda and lowered the can. “I don’t know where you live.”

“What do you mean? I live in the apartment building right behind you. Surely you knew that?”

“Can’t go around the corner. That’s Riverview territory. Had to wait for you to come find me. Knew you would. What took you so long?”

Catalina reminded herself that Marge lived in a strange landscape that only she could see. There was no point berating the poor woman. She was doing her best to survive.

“Do you have any idea where the clones in the big black car took Olivia?” Catalina asked.

“Expect they took her to hell. That’s where they took me. I’ll bet they’ve got her locked up in hell right now. You’re gonna look for her, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Catalina said.

“That’s good. But you’re gonna need help. You can’t walk into hell unless you’ve got someone to watch your back.”

Catalina went very still.

“Who will help me, Marge?” she asked.

Marge concentrated hard for a moment and then gave a short, brusque nod.

“Someone who knows about the clones. They’re a tough crowd. You’re gonna need someone who can deal with that bunch.”

The disheartening news was that Marge was right. It would be infuriating to have to make the call to Victor Arganbright to ask for help, but given what she had just learned, she didn’t have much choice. She needed professional assistance from someone who would take her fears seriously, someone who wouldn’t make her waste time filling out forms.

Catalina rose to her feet. “You may be right, Marge. But shit.”

Marge started to raise the soda can but she paused and squinted up at Catalina.

“Watch out for the needle,” she said.