Chapter Three

It had been a long drive through mid-day traffic to get from Boulder to the center of Denver. She waited as traffic rushed by on southbound Colorado Boulevard watching for an opening as the signal indicator beat out a steady rhythm of the bass note of the idling engine. Her chance appeared and she took it, wheeling the agile muscle car into the park's entrance, immediately slowing as she encountered a family crossing the road. It was warm enough on this early spring day, and many people were out taking advantage of the weather, knowing that the crisp breeze held more than a promise of the coming change. Following the curve of the road to a point where she could turn again, this time easing the low slung vehicle into the dark depths of the underground parking garage. The engine boomed off the concrete walls as she shed the sunglasses, letting her eyes adjust as she searched for a parking space. Finding one by the stirs she parked, cutting the engine, and finding herself assaulted by the sudden and relative silence. Glasses and cellphone tucked into the Prada handbag she now carried. Her fingers lingered a moment on the soft leather before she exited the car. He had given this to her on her last birthday, insisting she use it and that it was not some outlandish indulgence, and if it were, who better to indulge her than himself? Lindsey felt a smile at the memory before a sigh wiped it away as the brewing troubles resurrected themselves in her mind. And she was out of the car, slamming the door behind her and thumbing the key fob to lock the doors before she ascended the nearby stairs.

The sunshine made her blink, and the breeze tugging at her hair made her shiver. Or was it something else that caused the tremor? Giving it no more thought, not here, not now, she quickly crossed to the tinted glass doors and entered the museum. Ever since coming to Denver, Lindsey had treated herself to a membership pass to the Nature and Science museum, having found it was one of the best places for her to collect her thoughts. She smiled absently at the clerk who took her card, looked it over, then issued her her ticket. Out of the queue and towards the smiling soul who was taking the tickets. She declined the offer of a map, knowing precisely where she was headed. The museum was fairly quiet, most of the park's visitors being next door at the zoo. She took the escalator up and headed for the wildlife halls. There, in amongst the displays of arctic wildlife, she sat on a bench, looking at an arctic fox, and her reflection in the cool glass.
.-.-.-.

The soreness in throughout her back and shoulders told her she had been sitting too long. Standing and stretching she admitted to herself that she had come to no good conclusion about what to do next. Clarice was jumping at shadows, chasing imaginations, and nothing more than that. Lindsey was as familiar with the case file of Dr. Hannibal Lecter as anyone who had not directly worked the case could be. Not to mention that the man had saved her life on that hot summer night. But, that didn't mean she owed him any favors. No, if she were to face the man again, she would still uphold the morals that she'd been ingrained with and would have no hesitations in delivering him to the authorities. None. And besides the epicurean tastes, there was nothing to tie Gregory with that... that... monster.

Who saved your life.

Lin shook her head to clear the pressing thought and headed out of the display hall. It was nearing closing time, and the museum was quieter than before. She could hear the low heels she wore click on the floor as she headed for the escalators once more. Down, and her stomach sank more than it should have. A cold sensation was beginning to form there, and she didn't like it one bit. As she came off the escalators something caught her attention and sh e slowed, looking to her right. A tall thin man was standing over by the insect display, and her feet carried her in his direction.

'Dr. Pilcher?' She asked, her head tipping to one side, trying to look around at the man before he turned. A smile broke her face when he did turn and she was right in her name. He too broke into a smile at seeing her.

'Lindsey! Good to see you, what are you doing here?'

'Escaping the rigors of daily life.' she shrugged. 'I never see you out here, you're usually tucked away in your office.' She'd met Dr. Pilcher at a one of the fund raisers for the museum last summer, one of the many fund raisers she'd attended with Gregory. She shivered.

'One has to emerge every once in a while lest the common folk begin to think I'm a vampire or something.' he laughed, and beckoned her to come closer to the open case he standing in front of. 'Normally something I'd do after hours, but, it was quiet enough to have security keep the people away from me. Look.' Delicately, Dr. Pilcher was lifting a moth. Dry dusty colors and something that tugged at Lindsey's mind.

'What is it?' she asked, her voice hushed.

'Acherontia atropa. Or, if you like, the Death's Head moth. Named because of the markings here.' A delicate pointing with his free pinkie finger. Lindsey took in a deep breath. Pilcher didn't seem to notice. 'Funny that the museum didn't have one on display sooner, I swear everywhere I went had one after all the hub-bub.'

Lindsey nodded automatically, unsure of what to say next. Pilcher didn't make it any easier to think.

'Wonder what happened to that agent. Did you know Agent Starling, Lindsey? I know you worked in the FBI at one point...'

'I did. I... I don't know what she's doing now. Probably keeping busy on the trail of one serial killer or another.' She forced a small laugh and a smile, then looked down at her watch. 'Pilch, I've gotta run otherwise Gregory's going to kill me for being late for supper.'

'Right, and the museum's about to close anyway. I'll see you around, Lindsey. And if you ever hear from Agent Starling, tell her I said hi.' Lindsey nodded and gripped the strap of her handbag as she tried to walk calmly towards the museum's entrance. She passed under the looming shadow of the T-Rex that stood guard over the doors and rushed into the brisk evening, suddenly feeling stifled. It was still a fight not to run, but she continued at a good clip until she reached her car, safely locking herself within its confines. As Lin wheeled the car out into the late dusk she wondered what could happen next to catch her off guard.
.-.-.-.

She was late for supper by the time she pulled into the garage of their foothills home. It seemed like the jaws of a monster slowly closing around her as the garage door descended. She sat in the soft leather seat of her 2001 Cobra Mustang, listening to the ticking of the cooling engine, not wanting to go inside. She felt safe here, safe in the steel womb of the muscle car. A present to herself, after refusing the supercharged Jaguar Gregory had offered her for a Christmas gift. That forced a quick inventory of her life and how much of her personal possessions had come from Gregory. Now with Clarice's implied suggestion, Lindsey found herself wondering more and more. Ten minutes passed without her notice and she finally conceded that she had to go inside and face the music. She undid her seatbelt and slipped fro the car. Slow steps carried her to the door into the mudroom where she shed her handbag and shoes. With a growing sense of dread, she opened the door into the house proper and headed for the kitchen.

'You're late.' there was a slight tone of disapproval in the voice that greeted her. Almost against her will, Lindsey half smiled in apology at the admonishment.

'Sorry, I got a bit caught up at the museum.'

'Ah, off to think again? About what, my dear?' Gregory was handed her a glass of wine he had just poured and waved a hand to the table that sat in the breakfast nook nearby.

'Just... thinking.' She sipped the wine and watched her companion come to join her, his own glass of wine in hand. Dr. Gregory Orbinson was definitely good looking for his age, slim and imperial looking, he had an aura about him. His carriage implied to one observing him that he was taller than he is, but there is nothing about him that suggests that he is short or weak. His dark hair was just beginning to silver in places, and he had storm dark eyes that pieced you. It frightened Lindsey sometimes to look into those eyes, knowing how deeply they looked into her. He pulled out the chair opposite her and sat, reaching over t lightly stroke her hand that sat on the table.

'You look stressed, Lindsey.'

She began 'Its nothing...' but stopped, reconsidering her reply. What harm could it do if she told him the truth? 'Actually, I received a call from an old partner.'

'Clarice?' his nostrils flared and his eyes widened a bit. Ever watchful, Lindsey noted the reaction. 'What did she want? To schedule a reunion?'

A sip of her wine helped steel Lindsey to go on. 'She wanted to talk to me about something important. I can;t think of anything that would cause her to fly out here with no notice to me.' She shook her head, finally beginning to convince herself that her thoughts all day long were crazy. She looked across at Gregory, who was still stroking her hand lightly with one finger, watching her. She could see nothing dangerous in those eyes or in his manner or in his face. How could Clarice ever think...

He smiled then, giving Lindsey's hand a squeeze. 'Maybe we should have her for dinner then, make her feel comfortable when she shares her 'something important', hmmm?' Lindsey had to smiled in return at him.

'Yes, dinner. That'd be nice.'

Gregory smiled and patted her hand. 'Its settled then. Call her in the morning and arrange it. For now, we have standing reservations at the Broker.' He rose, leaving his wine glass on the table, extending a hand to Lindsey and helping her from her chair. She eyed him coyly.

'That is not your favorite place, Gregory. What do you have up your sleeve?'

'Nothing that you'll dislike, my dear.' He smiled charmingly and waved a hand towards the hallway she had entered by only a few minutes earlier. 'Shall we?'
.-.-.-.