With the moment—whatever it was—shattered, Seth and I picked up our things and left shortly thereafter. I asked him to drop me off at the bookstore. I hoped Doug would be there to apologize to, plus I wanted to get ahold of that Harrington book.
"You want to come in and hang out? Say hi to anybody?" I somehow felt reluctant to leave Seth now, in spite of all the things I needed to do.
He shook his head. "Sorry. I've got to go. I'm meeting someone."
"Oh." I felt kind of foolish. He could have a date now for all I knew. And why shouldn't he? It wasn't like I was his only social connection, especially after my no-dating spiel. I was foolish to be reading so much into the ice cream encounter, especially since I was supposedly crazy about Roman. "Well. Thanks again for everything. I'll make it up to you."
He waved his hand dismissively. "It wasn't anything. Besides, you paid me back by going to the party."
Now I shook my head. "I didn't really do anything there."
Seth only smiled. "See you around."
I stepped out of the car and suddenly stuck my head back in. "Hey, I should have asked you this earlier. Do you have my book signed yet? The Glasgow Pact ? "
"Oh... man. No. I can't believe I forgot about that. It's still at my place. I'll sign it and bring it soon. I'm sorry." He looked sincerely contrite.
"Okay. It's no problem." I should have ransacked his condo for it.
We said goodbye again, and I turned into the bookstore. If I remembered my schedule right, Paige should have opened and Doug should be here now as the late manager. Sure enough, he stood at the information desk, looking on while Tammi helped a customer.
"Hey," I said, walking up to him, uneasiness filling me as I recalled my harsh words. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"No."
Whoa. I'd expected him to be upset... but this?
"You need to call your friend first."
"I—what?"
"That one guy," Doug explained. "That plastic surgeon that hangs out with you and Cody."
"Hugh?"
"Yeah, that's the one. He's called, like, a hundred times, leaving messages. He's been worried about you." His expression turned both soft and wry as he took in my dress and flannel ensemble. "So have I."
I frowned, wondering at Hugh's urgency. "Okay. I'll call him now. Come talk to me later?"
Doug nodded, and I started to pull out my cell phone until I remembered I'd broken it last night. Retreating to the back office instead, I sat on the desk's edge and called Hugh.
"Hello?"
"Hugh?"
"Jesus Christ, Georgina. Where the hell have you been?"
"I, er, nowhere..."
"We've been trying to get ahold of you all last night and today."
"I wasn't at home," I explained. "And my cell phone broke. Why? What's going on? Tell me there hasn't been another one."
"Afraid so. Another murder this time, no more friendly beatings. When we couldn't reach you, the vampires and I thought he'd got you too, even though Jerome said he could feel that you were fine."
I swallowed. "Who... who was it?"
"Are you sitting down?"
"Sort of."
I braced myself, ready for anything. Demon. Imp. Vampire. Succubus.
"Lucinda."
I blinked. "What?" All my theories of an avenger of evil shattered. "But that's impossible. She's—she's—"
"—an angel," Hugh finished for me.
CHAPTER 16
"Georgina?"
"I'm still here."
"Pretty fucked up, huh? I guess this kills your angel theory."
"I'm not so sure."
My initial feeling of dismay was being replaced by a new idea, one that had been percolating in the back of my mind ever since I read the biblical passage at Terry and Andrea's. I wondered now... wondered exactly what we were dealing with, if it was an angel after all. The words in Genesis came back to me: There were giants in the earth in those days... the same became mighty men which were of old, men of renown...
"What's Jerome saying about all of this?"
"Nothing. What'd you expect?"
"Everyone else is okay, though?"
"Fine, last I knew. What are you going to do? Nothing stupid, I hope."
"I have to go check on something."
"Georgina..." Hugh warned.
"Yeah?"
"Be careful. Jerome's in a terrible mood over all of this."
I laughed harshly. "I can imagine."
An awkward silence hung on the line.
"What else aren't you telling me?"
He hesitated a moment longer. "This... this is a surprise to you, right? This Lucinda thing?"
"Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be?"
Another pause. "It's just... well, you've got to admit it's kind of weird, first Duane..."
"Hugh!"
"And then, I mean, when no one could contact you..."
"I told you, my cell phone broke. You can't be serious about this."
"No, no. It's just... I don't know. I'll talk to you later."
I disconnected.
Lucinda dead? Lucinda, with her plaid skirt and bob? It was impossible. I felt terrible; I'd just seen her the other day. Sure, I'd called her a sanctimonious bitch, but I hadn't wanted this. Any more than I'd wanted Duane dead.
Yet, the connections Hugh had drawn were weird, weirder than I liked to admit. I'd argued with both Duane and Lucinda, and they'd died shortly thereafter. But Hugh... how did he fit in? Some friend. From what I heard, he received a great deal of amusement telling anyone that would listen about your little whip and wings getup. I remembered Luanda's jibe. I had indeed had a small flare-up with the imp just before his attack. A small flare-up and a small attack, considering he had lived.
I shivered, unsure as to what this meant. Doug walked in.
"You get everything straightened out?"
"Yeah. Thanks." We stood there uncomfortably for a moment until I finally unlocked the floodgates of my guilt. "Doug, I-"
"Forget it, Kincaid. It's nothing."
"What I said, I shouldn't have. I was—"
"Wasted. Trashed. Flat on your ass drunk. It happens."
"Still, I had no right. You were trying to be nice, and I turned complete psycho bitch on you."
"You weren't that psycho."
"But definitely a bitch?"
"Well..." He hid a smile, not meeting my eyes.
"I'm sorry, Doug. I'm really sorry."
"Quit it. I can't take much more of this sentimentality."
I leaned over and squeezed his arm, resting my head slightly on his shoulder. "You're a good guy, Doug. A really good guy. And a good friend. And I'm sorry... sorry for a lot of things that have—or haven't—happened between us."
"Hey, forget about it. It's nothing between friends, Kin- caid." A pregnant pause hung between us; he was still clearly uncomfortable with this exchange. "Did... did everything turn out all right? I lost track of you after the show. That outfit you have on doesn't reassure me any."
"You'll never believe whose shirt this is," I teased, subsequently telling him the whole tale of getting sick with Seth and the follow-up birthday party.
Doug was pushing hysterics by the time I finished, albeit in a relieved sort of way. "Mortensen's a good guy," he finally said, still laughing.
"He says the same thing about you."
Doug grinned. "You know he's—oh, man. I forgot, what with all those phone calls." Turning to the desk, he sifted through papers and books, finally producing a small white envelope. "You got a note. Paige said she found it last night. I hope it's good news."