I swapped my C-notes for the card and gave them another winning smile. “Pleasure doing business with you, ladies.”
I left the coeds to their mochas and jogged back to Finn.
“You looking for some girl-on-girl action or something?” Finn asked after I’d slipped into the passenger’s seat.
“Only in your dreams, Finn.”
I glanced at the wrinkled card in my hand. Charles Carlyle. A cell phone number squatted underneath the blocky script, but my eyes settled on the symbol printed on the card — a triangular shaped tooth with sawlike edges done in black ink. The mysterious Air elemental’s rune.
“So what was this little detour all about then?” Finn asked.
My thumb rubbed over the rune. “Putting a name with a face. Now, let’s get out of here, before Donovan Caine sends the po-po back this way.”
Finn dumped the SUV in the first parking garage we came to and liberated a similar one — another late-model Cadillac. He drove through the streets, circling around the downtown district twice before taking a swing through the suburbs to make sure we were clear of anyone who might have an unhealthy interest in us.
Since the Appalachian Mountains cut through most of Ashland, the surrounding suburbs were greener and cleaner than what you’d find in most metropolitan areas. The city planners worked hard to keep it that way, especially in Northtown. Trees and copses of dense woods crept into the landscape here and there, thieves staking their claims amid new subdivisions and cobblestone-fronted shopping malls. Ashland also had its share of industrial complexes, but careful plantings of maples and walnut trees hid the dilapidated buildings and acres of concrete from sight. Rows of pine trees and twisting, grassy knolls obscured the tall towers of the city’s paper mills. Irony at its finest.
I stared out the window. Everything looked so normal, so innocent in the burbs. Soccer moms hauling around vans full of unruly kids. People power-walking with their dogs. Shoppers ambling down the nicer streets, arms full of bags. A Fire elemental letting flames dance over his fingers and doing a few other magic tricks for spare change in one of the parks. An Ice elemental performing a similar show for kids at a playground a mile away.
I couldn’t help but imagine what this day might have been like, if I’d listened to Fletcher’s advice about retiring and quit the business six months ago. Or if I hadn’t let him talk me into doing the Gordon Giles’s hit. If we’d both had just paid more attention to the job and what might be wrong with it, and less to the hefty payday. Greed would get you every single time, just like luck.
I might have been over at the Pork Pit, waiting tables during the lunch hour rush, helping back in the kitchen, or trying to make yet another batch of Fletcher’s secret sauce. Or I could have been over at the library at the community college, working on my latest assignment for whatever class I’d decided to audit. Could have even been dozing on a flight to Key West to take my long-awaited vacation.
Instead, I was on the run from the law and some mysterious figure who wanted me dead. Rock and a hard place. Story of my life.
“I made a couple calls while you were schmoozing with the detective,” Finn said. “Sophia disposed of the body you left in the freezer at the Pit. She said to tell you nice work.”
I grimaced. For whatever reason, the bloodier and more mutilated the body, the more the Goth dwarf enjoyed her disposal work. I didn’t know why. Didn’t want to know why. Fletcher had trusted Sophia, and that was good enough for me. Her methods, predilections, and possible fetishes were her own business.
“Sophia finished the disposal this morning. She said she thought it would be better to wait until today, since the cops had already removed Dad’s body.” Finn’s voice cracked on the last word.
“I’m sorry, Finn.”
He cleared his throat and shrugged. “We all knew it would probably happen like this one day. Dad understood and accepted the risks, just like we do.”
“Fletcher might have been an assassin, but he always kept his word. He didn’t deserve to be double-crossed like that. It won’t go unpunished.”
Finn nodded. “Sophia says the cops are treating it as a robbery gone wrong, yet another one in a borderline Southtown neighborhood that’s going downhill.”
I snorted. “In other words, they’ve already closed the case and moved on to the next one.”
“Way of the world, Gin. Way of the world.” He gave me a sidelong glance. “Before she called the cops yesterday, Sophia took a picture of Dad’s body. She thought I might want to see him for myself.”
I tensed. Damn that dwarven Goth girl. Damn and double damn her.
“She e-mailed the photo to me while you were inside the Cake Walk.” Finn turned his head to stare at me. “Why didn’t you tell me he’d been tortured to death by an Air elemental?”
I couldn’t see Finn’s green eyes behind his black sunglasses, but raw grief roughened his voice, as though someone had scraped a cheese grater over his vocal chords.
“Because dead is dead. You can’t come back from it, so it doesn’t particularly matter how you get there.” My voice was as rough as his.
Finn’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. “You still should have told me.”
“I was trying to spare you the details.”
Emotion sharpened my voice, making it harsher than I would have liked. I’d seen a lot of bodies in my time, but none as bad as Fletcher’s. The image of his flayed, ruined face, the malicious glee someone had taken in doing that to him, would always haunt me. Another ghost of the past I’d never be able to banish, no matter how hard I tried.
Because I might have stopped it. Should have stopped it. Should have gotten to the Pork Pit sooner. Should have been stronger, faster, better, smarter. Should have been everything Fletcher taught me to be, instead of just a bitter disappointment.
The memories of two more bodies flashed through my mind — the smoking, burned-out shell that had been my mother, Eira. The smaller one that had been my older sister, Annabella. A splash of blood on the rocks where Bria had been hiding. The smell of charred flesh filled my nose. Shrieks of fury and pain rang in my ears, along with my own choked sobs—
The SUV bumped over a pothole, breaking the morbid spell. But the tight knot of rage in my chest beat on, keeping perfect time with my heart.
Once I got control of myself, I leaned over, put my hand on top of Finn’s, and squeezed. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t look at me, either. I let go and sat back in my seat. We didn’t speak for several minutes.
“Did Sophia tell you anything else? She is keeping her promise to watch over the restaurant, isn’t she?” I asked.
“Yeah, Sophia said she could take care of the Pork Pit. Not a big deal. She’s done it before.”
“What are you going to do with the restaurant?” I asked. “Once this is over? It’s yours now.”
Finn shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far yet. I suppose it depends on what we find out — and whether or not we get killed in the process.”
I nodded. The thought of dying didn’t scare me. I’d seen too much of it, dealt out too much of it, to fear it. It was the torture that could be inflicted before the kill that worried me. That’s where the real pain was. And if you got unlucky and didn’t die, the memories needled you that much more, each one a fresh set of pins pricking your heart.
Death was a release, in so many ways. An end to suffering. An escape to something else. What that something else was, I didn’t know. Maybe heaven. Maybe hell. Maybe nothing at all. But I doubted it could be any worse than some of the things I’d seen and done in my lifetime.
Or the ones I was going to have to do to make sure Finn and I survived the next few days.