We met at the Rosen house 90 minutes later. It was around 1 p.m.
Rachel was in her own car down the block, with a second key. I called her before leaving my Honda and kept the phone on in my windbreaker so she could listen in.
Marlowe was waiting on the front porch. Tall and thin, in his 40s, he had a gaunt face and a thick black hair beard. “Jurgen?”
We shook hands. Then I took out my key.
We went downstairs. In the basement, I showed him the open door. The portal. Rosen sat inside, several yards away, seemingly oblivious to us.
I waved an arm. No response. Then I turned to Marlowe. “What do you think?”
He looked me over. “What do you know about alternate realities?”
No point in pretending. “I’ve been to some. One was called Forsythia. Another one had lots of demons, but they weren’t all killers. I was in Hell once, or something just like it. Jaye showed us Bettina Roishe last night. What do you know about them?”
Marlow laughed. “I’ve visited too. Some are peaceful, some violent. Some are bigger than our universe, and some are smaller than a closet.” He looked through the doorway at Morris. “Ask him for the ring.”
“Huh? He can’t hear me. I’ve tried—”
Then he shoved me
Marlowe was stronger than he looked. Also I was off guard and off balance. Mostly that. I stumbled forward. “What the—”
And then the black mist swirled around me. My throat tightened up as I fought to breathe, and I flapped my arms as the ghost wasps or whatever they were jabbed at my neck and scalp again.
When I hit the ground I felt as if I’d fallen from a second-story window. I lay there gasping, blinking my eyes, until I focused on a foot. A shoe. I looked up.
Morris Rosen frowned down at me. “Who the hell are you?”
I struggled to my feet. “Tom Jurgen.” I almost reached for a card, but decided that could wait. “Your son hired me to find you. He hasn’t heard from you in a week.”
“A week? It’s only been—” He leaned forward to examine my face. “Wait. I saw you just a few minutes ago. I was trying to tell you—”
“Annabelle, right? Your ex-wife. Adam’s mother.”
He nodded. “Yeah. She was just here.”
Just here? Wait a minute—“How long have you been here?”
He turned and looked down the path. It seemed to go on forever, or at least the length of a football field. “I’m not sure. The sun doesn’t go down. I was a little hungry, but that passed. There’s little spring behind one of the trees. I had to pee a couple of times, and I just . . .” He looked away from me, embarrassed.
Time moved differently here. That was typical, based on my visits to other alternate universes before. Rachel might have pepper sprayed Marlowe by now. Speaking of—I pulled my phone from my pocket. “Rachel? You there?”
Nothing. Maybe there’s a pricey upgrade for cell service between dimensions. I’d have to check that out.
I put my phone away and looked toward the doorway. It was blank, a shadowy gray rectangle at the end of the path. I thought I saw movement inside it or beyond it, flickers of light like a swarm of fireflies.
I didn’t want to risk the black mist again. I’d have to, if I was here long enough, but for now I had questions. “Do you know a man named Marlowe?”
He looked back at me, thinking. “I don’t—I think Annabelle mentioned him. Right before she put me in here.”
“He said to ask you for the ring.”
His shoulders sagged. “That’s what Annabelle wanted.”
“What is it? Where is it?”
Morris sighed. “It’s my mother’s engagement ring. I gave it to Annabelle when we got married. I—I took it back when we got divorced.”
An engagement ring? “Is it magic? Is it worth a lot of money?”
“It’s worth a lot to me!” His face flushed, embarrassed. “I mean—it’s my grandmother’s. And her grandmother’s before her. It’s been in my family forever! And no, it’s not the one ring of power or anything like that! It’s just a ring!”
Okay. So why did Anabelle and Marlowe want it so bad? What if—
Suddenly the shadowy doorway shimmered. The fireflies flew around in riotous circles, then abruptly burst into flame before vanishing.
Rachel stood there. She’d never looked more beautiful.
Jaye stood next to her, the big book cradled in her arm and a small burning candle at her feet, next to the glowing crystal from last night. “Come on!” Jaye shouted. “I don’t know how long I can keep this thing open!”
Morris was already on the run. He beat me to the opening—not bad for an old guy—but I was right behind him.
No mist, no stinging hornets. Just Rachel. She punched my arm. “What the hell, Tom?”
I looked back. The doorway showed the long path and an empty bench. I sighed with relief. “Thanks. Uh—what time is it?”
“It’s 4:30. Your phone went dead, and then Marlow came out of the house.” She pointed to the doorway. “I came in and saw you there, talking to, uh—”
“Morris Rosen, this is my girlfr—my associate, Rachel. And Jaye. Hi, Jaye.”
“Hi.” She set the book down. “I wasn’t sure that would work.”
“Jaye’s the only one I could think of. So I went to her place and, uh . . .” She glanced at Jaye. “She agreed to come and help.”
Jaye rolled her eyes. “Good thing I wasn’t at work.”
“Anyway, she tried a few things under my gentle persuasion—”
Jaye snorted. “Your girlfriend can be pretty intense, you know?”
“And eventually something worked. Good job!” Rachel patted Jaye’s shoulder. Then she glared at me. “So what happened? What’s going on?”
“It’s something about an engagement ring.” I looked at Morris. “Are you okay, sir?”
He caught his breath. “I’m hungry.”
“Where’s the ring now?”
“In my safety deposit box. At the bank. I put it there the first time Annabelle asked for it. I was—nervous.” He looked at Jaye. “My ex-wife can get pretty intense, too.”
“Okay.” I looked at my phone. We’d been in the other realm for hours, even though it felt like only a few minutes. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”
Morris insisted on having a sandwich and using the bathroom, and then calling his son. All that took a while. I called Megan, and then we drove down to Elmhurst—Morris in my car, and Jaye with Rachel. Megan was waiting for us on the porch.
Jaye lugged the book with her, not happy. “I’m supposed to go on a date. It’s on Zoom, but still.”
Morris looked nervous as Megan unlocked the door. “I don’t really want to see her again. I didn’t even know where she lived.”
“She’s stuck in the same place we were. After we get her out—” Then what? I didn’t know. I’m a P.I., not a marriage counselor. “Let’s just sort this business about the ring out.”
Pearl met us just inside, jumping over Megan happily. “Not now, Pearl.” Megan scratched her neck. Pearl followed at her heels as we headed down the hall.
Annabelle sat in the forest, head down as if she was dozing. Morris took a deep, audible breath as he saw her. “What’s—that’s what I looked like? From the other side?”
“Pretty much.” I turned. “Jaye? Can you help us out here?”
She groaned and opened the book. “Someone light the candle. And help me hold this. It’s heavy.”
Rachel lit the candle on the floor and placed the crystal beside it, and I stood next to Jaye as she flipped the pages. “Okay, here goes.”
She started chanting. Morris leaned against the hallway wall. Megan stared at us as if we were all crazy, but Rachel and I are used to that. Pearl plopped herself in front of the door, waiting patiently.
The crystal glowed. Jaye paused for a gulp of water from a bottle in her jacket, then went on. The doorway shimmered. Once, twice—
Then Annabelle was standing in a walk-in closet, surrounded by shelves of sheets and towels.
“Annabelle!” Morris shouted. “Get out of there!”
She blinked. “Morris?”
“Come here!” He waved his arm.
Annabelle came out, and Morris slammed the closet shut. Pearl started jumping for joy, and she leaned down to pet him. “Pearl, calm down, good girl, good girl. Morris?” She stood up. “What are you—who are you?” She looked at the rest of us. “Oh, hi, Megan.”
“Hi, Annabelle.” She looked nervous. “I hope it’s all right I let them in. You were, uh, kind of trapped.”
She nodded. “He let me make a phone call about Pearl before—before—”
“What’s going on?” She looked again at Morris. “The ring?”
“You can’t have it!” He stomped a foot. “It’s been in my family for generations!”
“It was stolen.” The voice came from the head of the hall.
I turned. All of us turned. I saw Rachel reached into her jacket for her pepper spray.
It was Marlowe.
“Who’s that?” Morris asked.
Annabelle jabbed a finger in Marlowe’s direction. “I’m mad at you!”
“How did you know we were here?” I asked, moving next to Rachel for protection. Hers or mine, it didn’t matter.
“I called him.” Jaye knelt and blew out her candle. She put the crystal in her pocket. “I mean, I don’t know you people, okay?
“I showed up at Rosen’s house just as you were leaving.” Marlowe looked at Morris. “I followed you, until I was pretty sure you were coming here.”
Rachel elbowed me. “Didn’t you lock the door?”
“I have a key.” Marlowe held up a keychain.
It was starting to come clearer now. “Wait a minute.” I turned to Annabelle. “Are you two . . . engaged?”
Morris looked from her to Marlowe, then back at Annabelle. “Who is he?”
“I thought we were.” She glared at Marlowe. “I thought—this is just about the ring, isn’t it? That’s what you wanted? That’s why you made me ask Morris for it, and why you told me to put him in the basement, and then you—” She pointed at the closet door. “You did it to me. You asshole.”
Marlowe nodded. “I’m sorry. When I saw pictures of the ring, the ones you showed me–I recognized it. It’s very distinctive. Here—”
He reached into his back pocket. Rachel tensed, but he only pulled out his phone. “Here.” He held it out. “Is that your ring?”
Morris leaned forward. So did I. Rachel too, and then we were all crowding around the phone until Morris said, “Hang on a minute!” He peered at the image—a diamond cut like a five-pointed star on a thick gold band. “That’s my ring. I mean, it looks like it—”
“Does it have an inscription? In Russian?”
“Yeah.” That came from Annabelle. “It says, ‘Heart of my heart.’ That’s you told me.” She looked at Morris.
Marlowe slid the phone back in his pocket. “My great-grandfather made it for the woman he wanted to marry. He was a jeweler. She took it, and the next day she left the city with some sailor. He spent years looking for her. And his son, and the rest of us. We were brought up on the story.”
He sighed. “I didn’t really think about it that much until I was here one night—” He nodded to Annabelle—“And I saw a picture. I knew it right away.”
“You bastard.” Annabelle looked ready to spit at him. “And I thought—” She shook her head. “I thought it was weird. But you said . . .” She shook her head. “Get out of my house.”
“But Anna—” Marlowe reached out a hand.
“All of you! Get out!” She snapped her fingers, and a small flame rose from her palm. “Now!”
I’d almost forgotten she was a witch. I looked at Morris. “Let’s go?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
Out on the porch Marlowe confronted Morris with a pointed finger. “This isn’t over. The ring belongs to my family.”
Morris sighed, tired. “Give it a rest, man. It was 100 years ago.”
“It’s a family matter.” Marlowe scowled.
“Hey, why did you let Annabelle call the dog walker—Megan?” I asked. “Before you stuck her in there?”
“Am I a monster?” He shook his head. “I’ll be in touch.” He stalked off the porch into the night.
Megan sighed. “I’m going home.” She looked inside the front window. Pearl was sleeping on the carpet, Annabelle on the couch. “I wonder if she’ll need me tomorrow? I’ll call.”
Jaye crossed her arms. “Is someone going to take me home? I’ve got a date later.”
“I will.” Rachel gestured toward her car. “Hey, can you tell me how the Bettina Roishe thing comes out?”
“Yeah, I watched it after you left . . .”
They walked down the front walk.
Morris turned for a look through the window. Annabelle was sitting in the living room, holding a bottle of whiskey and an ice filled glass. Pearl ran to jump on her lap. She smiled, gulped some whiskey and started petting her.
Morris sighed. “I don’t know. It was good for a while. And then it . . . wasn’t.”
I’m a P.I., so I’ve heard all the stories. And I got divorced too, long before meeting Rachel. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”
His phone buzzed. “All right. Let’s—Adam? Yes, I’m fine. Your mother’s okay too. Yeah, I’ll tell you everything . . .” He kept talking as we walked to my car.
# # #
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