“What?”
“The gas station,” she repeated urgently. “Pull in and get under the light so I can read the map!”
Ben jerked the van over into the next lane and then quickly hooked it into the lot. He pulled off to the side, out of the way, and rolled beneath a bright streetlamp. Felicity was already out of her seat and climbing over me to get to the door before we had come to a stop. I convinced her to wait a second while I levered it open and slid it back. She pushed past me the moment the opening was wide enough for her to fit through then continued spreading out the tattered map, which was literally falling apart in her hands.
Ben switched off the engine and yanked the keys from the ignition to kill the warning buzzer, then tossed them into the console.
“I’m going to go use the restroom and grab a coffee,” Constance announced, pushing her door open. “Anyone want anything?”
“Make that two,” Ben told her, reaching for his wallet.
“I’ve got it,” she replied. “Rowan? Felicity?”
“I’ll come with you,” I told her unbuckling and climbing out of the seat. I squeezed past Felicity, who’d yet to answer, and put a hand on her shoulder. “Honey, anything?”
“What, oh, yes, a water,” she chirped absently, intent on studying the faded and torn rectangles of paper. Then, almost as an afterthought she added, “And maybe a new map too.”
I gave her a nod that I suspect she missed entirely, and then skirted around the nose of the van, following after Constance. Since we were parked along the far outer edge of the station’s lot, near the street, the store itself was a good thirty-five yards or better from us. Mandalay waited a moment for me to catch up, and then we fell in step with one another, strolling across the near deserted expanse of asphalt.
“Is Felicity going to be okay?” she asked.
I looked over and saw sincere concern in her face. “I think so,” I replied. “This case is really the first time she’s been through this sort of thing from my perspective. I think we’re both having a little trouble adjusting to the change of roles.”
She nodded. “Makes sense. Okay, so clear something else up for me. What was that whole thing with the whiskbroom? That some kind of WitchCraft thing or just a sudden attack of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder”
“It really is a spell actually,” I replied with a slight chuckle. “It’s meant to get rid of unwanted guests. Basically you just take your household broom and turn it bristles up. If the magick works, the unwanted guest will leave.”
“Don’t they get a little suspicious anyway when you scream ‘goddammit go away’?” she asked with a grin.
I laughed. “Yeah, well, I have to admit that was my own addition. But I guess there are some instances where that could work without the broom.”
Traffic was dying down out on the main road. I glanced at my watch and based on the time figured that it must be a dinnertime lull. Besides us, there were only two other vehicles on the gas station lot. One parked on the side of the building, and another with its lights on and sitting in a space near the front door.
An undulating breeze whipped along the lot, weaving its chill around the light standards and gas pumps as we walked. It swished through as if on a whim, caressing us with its gelid fingers, and then left as quickly as it had arrived. I found myself suddenly wishing that I had brought a jacket.
Still, the prickly cold that was running along my spine remained, even after the calm had returned. I shuddered at the feeling, my mind beginning to entertain the idea that it had not been an effect of the wind at all. As the hair on the back of my neck began to rise, I realized that my mind was apparently on to something, because it dawned on me that the sudden chill had come directly from Constance.
“You have got to be kidding me…” Mandalay said in a soft voice, more than a little incredulity wrapped around the sentence.
“About what?” I asked, confused.
She didn’t answer, but she was beginning to slow her pace.
We were a little better than halfway to the door when I shot a curious glance in her direction. At that same instant, her arm came out in front of me, extended like a barrier. Her steadily slowing footsteps now came to a complete halt. Her expression was deadly serious, and her eyes were locked straight ahead.
“Go back to the van, Rowan,” she told me in an even tone.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, confused by her sudden change of demeanor.
“Go back to the van,” she repeated.
She moved fluidly, and her arm was no longer in front of me. Following the motion with my eyes, I noticed she was slipping her hand beneath the folds of her blazer. As it disappeared under the fabric, I heard a quiet snap. She continued speaking in a no-nonsense voice. “Tell Storm to get you two out of here and call for backup.”
Her hand was now filled with a forty-caliber Sig Sauer, and she was starting once again to advance on the storefront. I looked past her, through the large windows and at the brightly lit interior. It took a moment, but my eyes finally fell on the correct target, and I saw for the first time that which had not escaped her finely honed attention.
“Go! Now!” she hissed over her shoulder as she started to jog, angling toward a blind spot near the front door.
CHAPTER 34:
I was approaching the van at just under a dead run. Even though I couldn’t see them, I could still hear Ben and Felicity bickering on the opposite side of the vehicle.
“Felicity, that’s not much to go on,” I heard Ben say as I reached the front corner and started to hook around.
“It’s better than nothing at all, Ben,” my wife snapped in return, her voice a mix of frustration and urgency, both vying for dominance over her tone.
I whipped around the front of the van and almost slammed directly into her. Her back was to me, and she was holding a scrap of paper up into the light of the streetlamp above, animatedly tracing a route with her painted nail as she spoke, “I’m telling you if we…”
“Whoa!” Ben barked, cutting Felicity off mid-sentence as he grabbed her arm and yanked her to the side. His other arm came up in a flash and brought me to an unceremonious halt as my chest thudded against his outstretched palm. “What the fuck, white man?!”
The impact had knocked the wind from me, and I sputtered as I tried to catch my breath. “Constance… Backup…”
“Do what?” he asked.
I sucked in another breath and pointed back toward the station. “The store’s being robbed,” I blurted. “Constance needs backup.”
“Oh Gods!” Felicity exclaimed, shuffling to look past me. “Is she okay?”
“Jeezus!” my friend rumbled at the same instant, stepping forward and looking over the front slope of the van as he reached for his sidearm. “Is she inside? Forget that, I see ‘er. You got your cell phone?”
“Aye,” Felicity spoke up.
“Stay here outta sight and call nine-one-one,” he instructed. “Tell ‘em what’s goin’ down, and let ‘em know they have two off-duty cops on the scene.”
“What are you going to do?” I queried.
“If we’re lucky, nothin’,” he replied as he drew his sidearm and began scanning the area.
“What do you mean nothing?” Felicity asked, shaking her head.
“Just make the call,” he returned quickly, starting toward the near side of the station, then stopped and muttered, “Awww, goddammit, not now…”
I peered past him and saw a car rolling to a stop in one of the spaces at the front of the store. I could see Constance crouched in a blind spot near the entrance, any view of her from the inside being blocked by a pair of back-to-back payphone pedestals. She was trying to motion to the person in the newly arrived vehicle to stay put but to no avail. Either the woman had yet to see her or simply wasn’t paying attention, because she got out of the car and started toward the front door without a care.
Behind me, Felicity was already speaking to the 9-1-1 operator, quickly reciting the name and location of the gas station. Ben started moving, taking off at a fast clip into the shadows before cutting suddenly to the left and aiming for the side of the station.