“All right then,” Alex said with a nod. “I want you to wait five minutes after I leave, then go straight to the crawler station. Don’t worry, I’ll be watching.”
“What are you going to do once you find the man watching me?”
Alex shrugged.
“Once I get the drop on him, I was thinking of tying him to a chair and beating your husband’s location out of him. Unless you have a problem with that sort of thing,” he added.
Hannah looked around at her ransacked apartment and then at the burn mark on her arm.
“No,” she said. “No problem at all.”
Twenty minutes later, Alex stood just inside the window display at a five and dime near his office. It was positioned perfectly in the block between the crawler station and his office on the opposite side of the street.
For the fifth time, Alex brushed his hand against the slight bulge under his left arm, feeling the 1911’s reassuring bulk. He didn’t have to remind himself that the man following Hannah was in league with whoever tried to kill him yesterday. There was a real chance he might try to kill Hannah before she could get to Alex’s office.
He took a puff on his cigarette and tried to calm his nerves. He knew it was an indulgence, but he’d bought a pack of smokes from the five and dime to help with the waiting.
As refreshing as it was to have cigarettes again, it really wasn’t helping calm his nerves.
At least Jessica’s potion is working, he thought, looking at his steady fingers.
He swore.
Jessica.
He was supposed to go back and see her yesterday and he’d completely forgotten.
Getting shot will do that.
Smoking his cigarette down to the nub, Alex resolved to see Jessica tonight, if he had time. The idea wasn’t unpleasant, of course, but he had to find Leroy first.
As if on cue, Hannah came hurrying by on the far side of the street. She walked purposefully, but to her credit, she wasn’t running.
Alex moved to the door and looked out through the glass. A moment later a man in a gray suit walked by with his hands in his pockets. He didn’t seem to be following, but his steps were quick, much faster than his nonchalant demeanor would suggest. Of course, he had to walk fast if he didn’t want to lose Hannah.
Slipping out of the five and dime, Alex turned up the street and began walking parallel to the man in the gray suit. Once Hannah ducked into the lobby of Alex’s building, gray suit crossed the street, heading for an alley between two buildings just a little ways up.
With Hannah safely in his office, Alex turned the corner of the street and broke into a run. He circled the block, reaching the other end of the alley where Hannah’s tail had vanished and peeked around the corner.
At the far end of the alley, the man in the gray suit was smoking a cigarette and watching Alex’s building.
Taking care to be quiet, Alex moved carefully along the alley. The man in the gray suit never took his eyes off the building across the street. He clearly wasn’t expecting trouble.
Alex reached inside his coat and tugged his 1911 free.
“Hold it,” he said when he was only a few feet away.
The man jumped but froze when he saw the gun. He almost jumped again when his eyes darted up to Alex’s face.
“Bet you weren’t expecting to see me?” Alex said with a grin. “Was it you who shot me in the back yesterday?”
The man’s face hardened into a mask, but Alex didn’t care; his reaction had told the story.
Alex looked the man over carefully. There was a tell-tale bulge in the right pocket of his jacket. He looked young, in his twenties, with tanned skin and dark hair. His face was blocky and angular with a prominent nose.
Indian heritage, Alex thought.
“You want to tell me where the girl’s husband is now, or does this have to get ugly?”
“Don’t look at me,” the man said with a shrug. He had a sullen, Jersey accent that tended to slur his words. “I just get paid to follow the girl. I don’t know nothin’ about any missing husband.”
“A liar and a back-shooter,” Alex said. “Your mother must be so proud.”
The man’s face curled into a sneer for an instant, then he relaxed.
“You shouldn’t meddle in things that aren’t your business,” he said with an easy air.
“Like what, for instance?”
He just smiled and shook his head.
“It’s your funeral,” Alex said, nodding toward the street. “Let’s go. I’m sure Hannah will want to talk to you.”
“You should worry about yourself,” he said, turning to face Alex squarely.
The move was odd, but Alex didn’t think anything of it, he had a .45 caliber semi-automatic pistol pointed straight at the man, after all.
Gray suit opened his right hand and let the cigarette he was holding fall to the ground. Alex’s eyes followed it for half a second and he didn’t see the symbol burned into the man’s palm.
He felt the rune activate before he saw it, then a wave of force hit him and knocked him off his feet. Alex rolled into a ball to avoid hitting his head on the ground but ended up flat on his back nonetheless. Pain exploded through his side when he tried to rise.
Broken rib.
At the end of the alley, gray suit was clutching his arm. He hadn’t been braced when the force rune or whatever had been on his hand went off. The way he was holding it, the backlash had broken his wrist. He scrambled with his left hand to get the gun in his right pocket, finally jerking it free, then he rushed down the alley toward Alex.
Alex didn’t hesitate. He raised the 1911 and fired twice. The first bullet hit gray suit in the shoulder but didn’t slow his charge one bit. The second hit him square in the center of the chest and he faltered. Taking a stumbling step, he collapsed next to Alex, his gun skittering away on the concrete.
Rolling onto his knees, despite the screaming pain in his side, Alex pointed the pistol at gray suit’s prone form, but the man didn’t move. He put the barrel of the 1911 against the side of the man’s head, then checked for a pulse with his other hand, ignoring the protestations of his ribs.
Dead.
Looking around, Alex tucked his 1911 back into its shoulder holster. Two gunshots were bound to bring the police to the scene and Alex did not want to be nearby when they arrived. He was already on Detweiler’s short list and he didn’t want to give the man any more leverage.
Working quickly, Alex turned out Gray Suit’s pockets. In the inside jacket pocket he found his own red rune book, and a black baked book filled with strange picture runes in it. Pocketing both, he kept looking. The dead man’s pants pockets yielded a ring of keys and a brass compass whose needle pointed right at Alex’s building.
Something tickled against Alex’s senses. He’d felt the same thing right before the force rune had cracked his rib and put him on his back. Standing up as quickly as he could, Alex backed away from the body. Magic erupted from the dead man and a sudden flash of fire burned a hole in his shirt front from the inside. Fire spread from the hole, enveloping the body in seconds.
Alex was forced to move back as waves of intense heat assaulted him. Shielding his face, he nearly tripped over the burning man’s revolver.
Alex bent down and picked up the gun, shoving it in his own jacket pocket. His side burned where the force rune had hit him, but his attention was focused on the immolating body.
In less than a minute, the flames died down and burned out, leaving nothing behind but a pile of ash, a scorch mark on the ground, and the rank odor of burnt flesh.