“I sure wish I’d been able to find the suited guy or the guy in the hologram.” I had a brainstorm. “Maybe I should call Bruno and John. There can’t be that many people capable of that kind of spell. I mean, I’ve never even heard of anything like it. Bet they’d know who to talk to.”
“I already did. They don’t know of anyone, and no one they checked with does either.”
“Oh.” Okay, I felt dumb. Of course she’d thought of that. She was a detective, and a good one.
“Celia, are you okay? You sound … odd.”
My temper started to rise. “I just got out of the hospital, Alex. Those guys deliberately left me to burn. You saw what they did to one of their own people. Now you’re telling me they tortured a disabled woman to death. So, no, I’m not all right. Not even close.” I was snarling at her. I didn’t mean to. It wasn’t even her I was mad at. I was mad at the car rental guy for staring, at the bastards who did this to me, and at myself for still being so shaky—so damned scared.
“Sorry.”
“No. I’m sorry.” I sighed. “I shouldn’t take it out on you. It’s just these guys are so—”
“Brutal, vicious?” Alex suggested.
“Exactly. I don’t scare easily, Al, but these guys scare me.”
“Good,” she said firmly. “They should. They’re seriously bad news, and I intend to see that they’re taken off of the streets for a very, very long time.”
Her words gave me an idea, one that might make me sound like a complete nutcase. But now that the thought had come to me, I had to ask. “Alex, the link you gave me only has photos of criminals who aren’t currently incarcerated, right?”
“That’s right. There’s no point in having you wade through thousands of people who couldn’t have done it because they’re locked up.”
“But I spoke to a hologram. The boss wasn’t actually there. Maybe there’s a reason why.”
She made no reply, but I could tell she was thinking about it. I pressed on.
“I know, if he’s a mage and he’s incarcerated, he shouldn’t be able to work magic. That might explain why nobody’s heard of this hologram spell. He can’t advertise it without getting caught.”
“I’ll run Alyssa’s sketch through the system, see what comes up.” She sounded doubtful, and tired, but I knew she’d do it.
“Thanks, Alex.”
“You’re welcome.” She paused. “And Celia, seriously, be careful.”
Everyone seemed to be telling me that. You’d think I was disaster-prone or something. Still, it was good advice. “I plan to.”
After we hung up, I thought about what I’d just learned. I hadn’t liked Abigail Andrews, but I wouldn’t have wished a death like hers on my worst enemy.
Most of what she’d told me had been a lie. I knew that. But most really good liars base their tales on the truth. Alex would check the prisons as I suggested. But would she tell me if she found Hologram Guy? Maybe—then again, maybe not.
Twenty-two years. Abigail had said the man had been in prison for twenty-two years. She’d also said that he’d been the one who’d injured her in the first place.
Rising, I slathered on sunscreen and armed up. I debated whether or not to take along a pair of one-shots filled with holy water. Bats only come out at night and I didn’t think I’d be gone that long, but holy water is useful for a lot of things, like checking for demons, shattering illusions, and cleaning away corruption. Better to have it and not need it than the other way around. I slid the little squirt guns into their loops inside my jacket, grabbed my purse, sunglasses, and keys to the rental car. It was time to go to work.
The SUV was cherry red with tinted windows. It drove like a tank but I couldn’t fault the visibility. I felt like I was a mile above the ground and had the pleasure of looking down on just about every other vehicle on the road. It had a killer sound system, built-in GPS, and that chemical and leather new-car smell. I turned the radio to my favorite station, cranked up the sound and the AC, and was on my way.
Errands: they breed like rabbits, always take longer than you want them to, and are generally annoying as hell. Still, it was nice enough to be up and around that I didn’t feel too annoyed.
I started by picking up a phone—with Bluetooth. That way I could drive whatever new car I bought and use the phone hands-free. I didn’t need the earpiece for this beast—it had a built-in system. Good thing, too: I could understand now what Dawna meant when she said that driving the Hummer took her full concentration. Once I had the phone I began checking the rest of the items off my list.
I needed research done—more than Dawna could do in a limited amount of time—but I knew Anna wouldn’t let me into the university library in my current state. Been there. Done that. Wasn’t fun the first time. So I called her. She grumbled but agreed to look up the information I wanted and send it to me in an e-mail. Said to check my box in about two hours.
My next stop, Santa Maria de Luna PD’s property department.
Alex had said the police did not want to keep my knives or ring. That might be true, but they were not going to part with them easily, and not without lots and lots of paperwork: boring, tedious, meticulous paperwork.
That one stop killed most of my two hours of waiting time. I was so glad to get out of there with my little bag of goodies.
I was very tempted to just slip on the ring and strap on the knives. But I didn’t. They needed to be checked for trap spells, then cleaned, blessed, and generally made safe before I could use them again. I knew just the guy to do it, too.
I found myself smiling, I had a perfectly legitimate reason to go see Bruno. And hey, it was lunchtime. Maybe we could head over to La Cocina for a bite to eat. (Okay, in my case, not a bite, but at least a smoothie, which counts, right?)
The good news: I got to see him and he agreed to make sure my stuff was usable.
The bad news: he had a big faculty luncheon. He offered to ditch it, but I turned him down and gave him a good-bye/thank you kiss to remember.
As I was walking out the door he called out, “Celie, try to stay out of trouble.”
It was an exact echo of John’s words. I turned, intending to say something in response, then stopped. I am disaster-prone. I don’t look for trouble, but it finds me. Nothing I could say would change that.
15
There was a line of people waiting for tables at La Cocina. I settled down on the bench under the awning and used my new phone to call Dawna. I figured I could catch up on messages while I waited.
“Hello?” Dawna’s voice was pleasant but questioning, not exactly a surprise since she wouldn’t recognize this number on caller ID.
“It’s me. Sorry I didn’t call sooner. I had to get a new phone and run a couple of errands. What’s up?”
“That’s right, you lost your phone! I forgot.” Now she sounded like her bright and bubbly self. “You’ve got like a dozen e-mails and several messages. And we have a problem.”
What else is new? “What is it this time?”
“Well, I got a frantic call on the business line from a woman who said she was Abigail Andrews’s daughter, Michelle. She said that her mom was supposed to meet her at the airport and didn’t show up. Michelle got really scared and checked with the police, who told her that Abigail was dead and then asked her all kinds of what she said were ‘strange questions.’
“Apparently the cops also told Michelle that the last person to talk to Abigail was a local bodyguard. Evidently Michelle has been going through the phone book. She found us by process of elimination and is desperate to meet with you. She’s grieving and angry and really, seriously confused. I told her I couldn’t tell her anything and she just lost it. Started crying really hard and then hung up on me.”