I wouldn’t find a better time to confront him either. A display like he’d just put on would leave him ripe to be brained by an old lady with an industrial sized handbag. So I tried for another burst of speed, but my tired body told me I was crazy for attempting a sprint when I don’t even take the stairs more than I have to.
A stitch lanced through my side, and lack of oxygen made my vision sparkle. He must’ve heard me galumphing after him because he began to run. Shit, he was getting away because I was out of shape.
The granite angel seemed to come out of nowhere and I slammed my head into its wings hard enough to see stars in addition to the white sparks. I must’ve winked out because when I came to, Butch was licking my face, whining in a way that said, Hey, lady, get up. You’re my ride home.
Blinking slowly, I saw that I lay sprawled on a grave marked Montoya. For a moment I stared at the inscription on the base of the statue. The markings rang a bell somehow, but that might just have been the general ringing in my ears. I touched my forehead and flinched at the red smear on my fingertips.
I found it hard to haul myself upright, even using the statue as support. Maybe I wasn’t meant to take out a warlock on my own. I certainly hadn’t thought about what I’d do once I caught him, that was for sure.
“We’re close to something important,” I told the Chihuahua. “They’re getting scared or they wouldn’t resort to shit like this. You think we can expect big guys with AKs next?” I remembered Lenny. “Oh, right. Sorry. That was insensitive, wasn’t it?”
He barked once.
“Let’s get out of here, huh? Assuming we can find the Mustang.”
Assuming I could drive. Did I even have the keys? I dug in my bag until I found them and then put it down long enough for Butch to hop in. I felt sick and dizzy as I made my way out. Back on the street, the mist had faded, leaving no trace that something very wrong had just taken place.
By the time I reached the car, reaction had set in, leaving me shaking so bad it took me four tries to get the key in the lock. I crawled into the Mustang, put my bag on the seat, and leaned my head against the steering wheel.
I waited a good long time before I trusted myself to drive. Butch watched me with wary eyes. Maybe it wasn’t fair but I couldn’t help feel this was vintage Chance.
He’s having the time of his life while I’m neck deep in shit. I should leave his ass here and head back to Laredo. Hell, maybe I’ll go all the way to Mexico City. I’d take the Mustang as payment for my trouble. He certainly didn’t need me with Twila on his side.
When I made up my mind, I started the car.
Some Like It Hot
I went back to Laredo without him.
Yeah, I chose the middle ground. As far as I was concerned, Chance could go Greyhound. I promised I’d see this thing through but I didn’t say he could dismiss me like a two-dollar whore while he cozied up with someone else. If that sounded like jealousy, well . . . I admitted to some conflicted feelings on the matter. Once I got on the road, I turned off my phone. I didn’t want to hear his excuses.
It was late by the time I got back into town. Butch was a perfect gentleman on the way; I guess he understood he needed to be nice to me now, as I was all that stood between him and the pound. Soon as we got out of the car, though, his hackles came up.
There were several cars parked in the drive, but there always were. Lights showed in the office, the kitchen, and the living room—nothing sinister there. I couldn’t see any reason not to go on in the house and shook my head over listening to a dog’s mood.
“Settle down,” I whispered.
Butch glared at me but consented to being pushed down into my bag. I wanted a chance to explain his presence to my hosts, and I didn’t know how they felt about pets. Chuch probably wouldn’t mind, but I wasn’t so sure about Eva.
As I opened the door, I understood Butch’s unease. Nathan Moon’s gruff, sour voice carried all too well. “So you’re saying you have no idea where she is or when she’ll be back?”
Mentor, my ass. Saldana sold me out. Men. You can’t trust any of them.
Possession of Lenny Marlowe’s dog wouldn’t look good for me, if the cop recognized Butch. Regardless, I wouldn’t let Chuch or Eva take any heat for me.
Summoning a polite smile, I stepped into the living room, conscious that I looked as though I’d been rolling around in the mud and then had let it dry. Which was more or less what had happened. I had a big bump on my forehead and several scratches down my arms, and I was lucky it hadn’t been worse.
“Hello, officer. Something I can do for you?”
Three pairs of eyes swung my way, and Eva leaped to her feet. “Ay, Dios, what happened? Are you all right?”
Chuch tilted his head to peer out as I closed the door. “Where’s Chance?”
My smile felt too tight. “He had business in San Antonio. He’ll make his way back when he’s ready.”
I could tell Chuch wanted to ask about the Mustang, but under the circumstances he restrained himself. Officer Moon looked me up and down, a faint sneer curling his lip. “You look some worse for the wear, Miss Solomon. Maybe you’d like to clean up before I ask you a few questions.”
He knew my real name from the police report; that was never good. Still, I pretended to accept his faux politeness as the real thing. I inclined my head. “Thank you. That would be lovely.”
I held my purse to me as I went down the hall to Chance’s room. “You stay,” I whispered to Butch. “I’ll be back later.” He gave me a supercilious stare and gazed pointedly toward the bed. “Okay, fine.”
Hoping I wouldn’t get caught with the victim’s dog, I went on down the hall and took the world’s fastest shower. Then I realized I didn’t have any clean clothes. Oh, ugh. I hate when I have to do this. . . .
With a sigh, I went through my bag and smelled my laundry, found the least offensive outfit, and put it on. Of course, my skirt and blouse looked wrinkled as hell from being wadded up at the bottom of my bag, and the knot on my forehead was turning purple. Peering into the mirror I counted two other scrapes on my face and several more elsewhere. I knotted my hair into a quick braid and gave up.
Well, I was as ready as I ever would be.
I tried to smooth my clothing as I went back into the living room, where I found the three of them sipping coffee in uneasy silence. Eva had set out a plate of butter cookies too, but nobody touched them. Seating myself on the end of the couch, as far from Nathan Moon as possible, I tried to look harmless.
With a forced smile, I asked, “What would you like to discuss?”
“Well,” he said with deceptive mildness, “for starters . . . why don’t you tell me why Lenny Marlowe’s neighbor described you as one of his recent visitors?”
Damn, I didn’t know what Saldana might’ve told him. I decided I better stick close to the truth.
“I’m helping a friend investigate his mother’s disappearance. We discovered that Lenny Marlowe found her purse at the warehouse where he worked and went over to ask him some questions about what he saw. He’s in the book.”
All true, as far as it went. Don’t let me start sweating. A sour feeling roiled in my stomach as I remembered all the other times I’d been interrogated, usually in a bile green room downtown somewhere. Even if they don’t charge you with anything, they can hold you for a day, and I wouldn’t wish those twenty-four hours on anybody.
“Discovered how? Did you employ a private investigator?”
It’d serve Saldana right if I rat him out after he sicced his a**hole partner on me.
If he did.
Maybe Moon was here for his own reasons and had his own agenda.
Somehow I couldn’t bring myself to say anything that might get Jesse in trouble. He was my main link to the gifted world, and I didn’t want to burn my bridges.
“I wasn’t aware I needed a license to ask a few questions, officer. If I was charging for my services, it would be different.” After I said that, I sensed Eva’s glare, but I didn’t meet her eyes. I could stumble off this tightrope any minute and without help. I hoped she wouldn’t lose her temper.
“Yeah, interesting you would mention that,” Moon said with a tight smile. “According to your record, you did, in fact, run a racket, charging for your ‘services.’ In our database you show up in four states under three different names. Does that strike you as the behavior of an upstanding citizen?”
That set Chuch off. “Look, unless you’re going to charge her with something, I think you’ve taken advantage of my hospitality long enough.”
I held up a hand, not wanting to provoke the guy into hauling me downtown. “No, I’m happy to answer his questions. I’m just sorry I can’t be of more help.”
The cop smiled, but it wasn’t pretty, the way it flattened his pale mouth. “Is that what you told the Arnett family in Madison when you took their money and couldn’t find their son?”
I swallowed hard, trying to staunch the tears that stung the back of my throat. That failure still haunted me.
“I refunded the money,” I managed to say.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re doing in my town,” Moon said, getting to his feet. “Or why you’re hanging around Saldana, but I do know this. Trouble follows you like stink on shit, and I’ll be there when you step in it.”
“If you say so.” I didn’t have the energy for anything clever. “I’m glad Laredo has such a devoted officer looking into Lenny Marlowe’s death. He seemed like a good man.”
As I got to my feet to see the officer out—courtesy always confused them—headlights beamed through the front windows. I didn’t think it could be Chance. The lousy bastard was probably still twined around Twila.
“It’s Grand Central around here tonight,” Eva muttered.
“No kidding.” Chuch pushed himself out of the recliner. “A guy can’t even watch TV. I’m gonna go mess around online.”