He looked down at the papers, already knowing what they were. Photocopies of the bank transfers Andrew Wren had shown him earlier. He looked up again. `I don't know anything about these accounts. They aren't mine.'
`Your signature is all over them!'
He met her gaze squarely. 'Stef, I didn't steal a penny. That's not my signature. Those aren't my accounts. I told the same thing to Andrew Wren when he asked me about it an hour ago. I wouldn't do anything like this.'
Sloe stared at him silently, searching his face.
'Stef, I wouldn't'
All the anger drained away, and she bent down to kiss him. `I know. I told Simon the wane thing. I just wanted to hear you say it'
She put her hands on his shoulders and ran them down his arms, her tousled black hair falling over her battered face. Then she knelt before him, her eyes lifting to find his. I'm sorry. This hasn't been a good day'
You don't know the half of it, he thought to himself. `I was thinking we might go away for a few days, let things sort themselves out.'
She smiled up at him sadly. ~A few days, a few weeks, a few months, we can take as much time as we want. 'We're out of a job:
He felt his throat tighten. 'What?'
'Simon fired you. When I objected and he wouldn't change his mind, I quit' She shrugged.
He shook his head in disbelief. `Why would Simon fire me without giving me a chance to explain?'
'He's cutting his losses, John. It's the smart thing to do' Her dark eyes studied him. `He's frightened. He's angry. A lot of bad things are happening all at ante, and he has to do something to contain the damage. If word of this leaks to the mayor's office or the local press, it's all over for Simon'
'So his solution is to fire me?'
'That's what I asked him' She brushed her hair aside, her mouth right and angry. Then she stood up and walked across the room and threw herself on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. `There's nothing back yet on the transfer signatures, and no one he's talked to at the banks involved remembers anything about who opened the accounts. But when Wren suggested the possibility that you were trying to set Simon up, Simon bought into it. He thinks you're responsible, and he wants to distance himself from you right now before you become a liability he can't explain'
She looked over at him. `There's more. He claims he came by last night after I left. He claims he found you drunk and irrational, and you threatened him. I told him that wasn't possible, that you weren't drinking. I told him you were sick and half asleep when I left you, so maybe he misinterpreted what he heard. He refused to listen' She exhaled sharply, her bitterness evident. `He fired you, just like that. So I quit, too.'
Ross was staring at the space between them, stunned. First the business of the demon hunting him, then Andrew Wren's accusations, and now this. He felt as if he was caught in some sort of diabolical whirlpool that was sucking him under where he couldn't breathe.
`This isn't like Simon, John' Stef was saying. `This isn't like him at all. He hasn't been the same lately. I don't know what the problem is, but it's almost as if he's someone else completely.'
Ross was thinking the same thing. A glimmer of suspicion had surfaced inside, hot and fierce. It couldn't be, he was thinking. Not Simon. Not the Wiz.
Stef crossed her long legs and stared doom the length of her body at her feet. `I don't understand what he's thinking anymore'
Ross looked at her. `How did his T V interview go last night?' he asked casually.
She pursed her lips. `It didn't. He cancelled it. I didn't even find out until I showed up and no one was there. That's when I came back here and found you collapsed on the couch. I hauled you off to bed and read my book in the living room until around midnight when I woke you about the fire'
His suspicion burned inside like an inferno.
`You know that message you got over the phone from Nest Freemark? The one
about meeting her in West Seattle? Did you mention it to anyone else? Or could anyone else have overheard?'
Stefanie sat up slowly, puzzled. `I don't know. Why?'
`Just think about it. It might be important'
She was silent a moment. `Well, Simon knew, I guess. He was there talking with me when I took Nest's call. He asked me afterward what it was about, and I said it was from Nest and she wanted you to meet her in Lincoln Park. He laughed, said it was an odd place to meet someone. I said it had something to do with a friend of somebody named Pick'
Ross felt the blood drain from his face.
Stef sat up slowly, her brow furrowing with concern. `John, what's going on?'
He shook his head. Simon Lawrence knew about the meeting with Nest. If he was the demon, he had time and opportunity to get over there, intercept her at her meeting with the forest creatures, and still get back to set the fire at Fresh Start.
He almost laughed out loud. No, this was ridiculous!
But the idea had taken root. Who was in a better position than Simon Lawrence to sabotage the work of Fresh Start and Pass/Go? Simon was the whole program. If he came under suspicion, if he was forced to quit, if–just suppose now–he disappeared at a crucial juncture in the investigation, everything would go down the drain. There would be national coverage. Every homeless program in the country would be adversely affected.
`John?' Stef was on her feet. She looked frightened.
He smiled. `It's all right, I'm just thinking. Would you mind getting me a root beer from the fridge?'
She nodded, smiling back at him uncertainly. He waited until she was out of the roam, then resumed his deliberation. Simon Lawrence as the demon it made a certain amount of sense. Simon could ruin his own programs. He could sabotage homeless programs nationwide by wrecking his own. And he was in a great position to wreck Ross's life, as well. He could implicate him in the theft of corporate funds, terminate his jab, maybe even have him sent to prison. If the demon intended to turn him to the Void's service, it would be a perfect place to begin.
It might even cost him his relationship with Stef.
His head throbbed fiercely. One misstep was all it took, the Lady had cautioned. One misstep that led to another. He considered the possibility that the demon might take that step for him. It wasn't too difficult to imagine.
But Simon Lawrence? He still couldn't bring himself to accept that the Wiz was a demon.
Stefanie re–entered the room. He came to his feet, facing her. `Stef, I can't go away just yet. I have to do something first. I have to see Simon.'
She sighed. `John, no'
He took hold of her arms and held her gently, but firmly, in place. `I can call him up right now, or I can just go over. It won't take but a moment'
She shook her head, her eyes angry. `It wont do you any gaol, John. He's made up his mind. I already argued your case for you, and it didn't change anything'
He studied her face, thinking she was right, that it was pointless. `I have to try; he insulted any–way. 'I have to make the attempt myself. I'll be right back'
She grabbed his arm a5 he started to turn away. `John, he's not even there. He's already gone down to the art museum to help put things in place for tonight's benefit. He's doing interviews and … Look, forget this. Let it go. Give me five minutes to pack a bag and we're out of here. We'll deal with it when we get back, okay?'
But he was already committed. He could not just walk away, not even for three or four days. He had to know the truth about Simon. He had no idea how he was going to find it out, but he could at least speak with him face–to–face and see how he responded.
Then a very strange thought occurred to him. What if the dream about killing the Wizard of Oz, wasn't a warning at all? What if it were an admonition? Perhaps he had been mistaken about the purpose of the dream, and he was having it not because he was supposed to avoid the Wiz, but because he was supposed to go after him. His dreams of the future had been windows into mistakes that had been made in the present and might yet be corrected. He had assumed this was the case here. But he was no longer a Knight of the Word, and it was possible this dream, the only dream he was having anymore, the one he had experienced so often, was meant to work in a different way.