Boogeymen - Mel Gilden [28]
“Horns?”
“It’s hard to tell with all that hair.”
“Of course,” Picard said. “Why not call the police?”
“The Howe family insists on privacy and gets it.”
“Have you offered money to these unpleasant men?” Picard said.
He didn’t think it was possible to make Rhonda Howe blush, but she blushed then like a sunrise in the Adirondacks. “I don’t think it’s money they’re interested in.”
Picard thought of a few clever rejoinders for that, but under the trench coat and fedora he was still a starship captain, and starship captains did not make certain kinds of jokes under any circumstances.
Picard stood up and ushered Rhonda Howe to the door. “It’ll be just a few minutes while I discuss this with my operatives.” He closed the door and, with his hand still on the knob, let out a sigh.
“Wow,” said Wesley softly.
Data said, “If by your responses you mean Rhonda Howe is an exceptionally beautiful woman, I agree with you.”
Picard looked at Data, eyebrows up in question.
Data said, “I meant only that she bears an astonishing resemblance to certain High Renaissance Madonnas.”
“Of course,” said Picard. “The question is, should we take her case?”
Wesley said, “Sounds as if she has Boogeyman trouble.”
“Wesley’s right, sir. I believe your instincts were correct when you chose to get involved in this scenario. We must take her case and defeat the Boogeymen once and for all if we can.”
“If we can?” Wesley said.
“Just a figure of speech,” Data said.
“Very well,” Picard said. He tipped a key on a brown wooden box and said, “Send in Miss Howe.”
Effie’s voice came through the box, a tinny shadow of itself. “Yes, sir.”
Miss Howe came back into the office and settled herself in the customer’s chair. She was so completely sexual a creature that sensuality shone through her most innocent movement like the sun behind a stained-glass window.
Picard said, “We’ve decided to take your case.”
“How wonderful. Can you come to the mansion today?”
“I believe we have nothing else on the schedule.”
Miss Howe smiled, and Picard said, “Freeze program.” It was a nice smile, Picard thought, worth looking at a little longer.
“If the computer will freeze the program, maybe we don’t have to fight the Boogeymen,” Wesley said.
“We have been fooled before.”
“Exit,” said Picard.
A holodeck exit opened in a side wall. Beyond was an empty Enterprise corridor. Picard touched his insignia and called for Number One. No answer came. Data and Wesley called Riker with the same negative result. Picard said, “Is it possible that all three of our communicators are inoperative?”
“Possible,” said Data, “but unlikely in the extreme.”
“Then the question becomes: Do we want to escape from this particular scenario?”
“I think not, sir. I believe we should wait and see what the Boogeymen have planned.”
“I concur entirely. Computer.”
“Waiting,” the computer said.
“Continue scenario at the Howe mansion.”
Picard heard the computer’s audio twinkle, and suddenly the four of them were standing in the two-story foyer of a magnificent twentieth-century home. The room was bigger than the bridge, smaller than Engineering, and rather old-fashioned, even for the time of Dixon Hill. The walls were highly polished wood panels between which hung tapestries depicting royal deer hunts. On the shiny floor were throw rugs the size of other people’s rooms. At the far end wide stairways came down from a second-floor gallery on either side of a fireplace that was constructed from boulders.
Rhonda Howe said, “It was so good of you to come all the way out here. My room is upstairs.”
“Your room?” Picard said.
“Where I was menaced by those awful men. I thought you might want to look for clues.”
With her large green eyes she watched him hopefully. Picard tried not to fall into them. He said, “You thought right. Lead the way.”
Picard, Data, and Wesley followed her across the foyer, their shoes