“So, you do know where Michael is?” I said.
She shook her head. “But I know how to get in touch with him.”
Okay, that was progress.
“The best thing you can do for your brother is to tell him my offer,” I said. “I’ll meet him or his representative wherever he likes. All he has to do is get the necklace to me, and he can come home and have his regular life back.”
Miranda was considering. I could see it on her face. She just needed a little push.
“He can’t keep the necklace and he can’t sell or trade it to anyone but Lady Califia or directly to Calypso. If he tries, they will hunt him down and make him wish he’d never heard of the Mermaid’s Lament. You know how they are. You know that’s true. But if he gives the pearls to me, his worries are over.”
She broke then, everything that she’d been holding inside tumbling out at once. She kept her voice low and almost monotone. I had to strain to hear her.
“He told me what he’d done. He told me why. I screamed at him. Lady Califia! Of all people. Did he really think she’d be so impressed with his daring-do that she’d—what? Fall in love with him? Michael couldn’t impress her with a shipload of pearls. She’s Lady-fucking-Califia, the richest woman in America. What would she want with Michael Rawlings? She only let him hang around because she felt sorry for him. I told him that. He didn’t take it too well, as you might imagine, but someone had to slap some reality into him and I seemed to be the only one willing.”
Her anger spent, she sighed and her shoulders visibly slumped.
“You love your brother a lot, don’t you?” I said.
She nodded without looking at me. “Daddy tried to wedge us apart. He always said rivals were better for pushing each other to excellence than friends were. We were never rivals, Michael and I. It was always clear he’d get the business when Daddy retired or died. I always knew I had magic in me. I set about early on to develop that. I’m happier in the life I have than if I’d been expected to take over the business.”
If this was all true, and it felt true, Miranda hadn’t arranged her father’s death. Was Drew simply mistaken, or had he told me that story to set me on the wrong foot? Mistaken, I decided.
There seemed to be a lot of mistaken and wrong in this job. Drew was wrong about Miranda, though she didn’t do much to dispel her witch/bitch reputation. Bodie was wrong about what power the Mermaid’s Lament really had. Michael was wrong that a trinket, no matter how valuable, would turn Lady’s head and heart in his favor. And Saylor was probably seriously and dangerously wrong if he thought Calypso would let him keep the pearls if he got his hands on them first.
Miranda blew out a long, slow breath. “I love my brother with all my heart. I’d do anything for him.”
“Then help him get out of the mess he’s gotten himself into,” I said. “Have him call me.”
I dug into my purse, found a business card and handed it to her. The card had my name and, underneath it, the words Rescue and Recovery. My cell number was below that. She stared at it as if it were written in Martian.
“Okay.” She put my card in her purse, stood, and walked out like a somnambulist. She’d get in touch with him, I was sure of that. Whether he’d call me was open to question. I’d worry about that later. The next thing on my agenda was to get Lady and Calypso to agree to what I’d promised.
17
Hermosa Beach and Palos Verdes aren’t far apart as the crow flies, but to get to Lady’s house I had to wend my way up the hill’s long, narrow roads. It was a nice drive, sometimes offering glimpses of the ocean below, and with trees all around. I drove past little shopping centers, a school, houses that cost more than I’d make in my lifetime, and joggers and dog walkers on the raised paths, most wearing some sort of reflective covering to make them visible in the night. The drive gave me time to formulate my arguments for Lady and Calypso.
I turned up a narrow, crooked road and slowed on the dark, unlit street. I still had no idea why Palos Verdes didn’t have streetlamps, especially for roads like this one—houseless, the twisting asphalt ribbon surrounded by trees, brush, and rolling hills. Lady and Edwin drove this road like it was a high-speed straightaway, but they’d been driving it for years and knew its idiosyncrasies. Not to mention that they could have powers and abilities I was still unaware of. I took the road slowly and carefully.
Something banged hard against the driver’s side of my car. The car rocked from the blow. I yelped, my heart beating fast, and swung my head to look even as I struggled to keep the car on the road.
The ghoul had barely any skin stretched over its frame and that was scared as if the thing had been burned head to toe, leaving a bald and puckered scalp. The bone structure said she’d been a woman in life. A very tall, strong woman.
I swerved the car first left then right then left again on the narrow road, trying to throw the ghoul off. She clung on as if her hands were superglued to the door handle.
The car windows were up, but the ghoul’s stench of rot and putrefaction came right on through the glass, strong enough to make my eyes water.
I slammed on the brakes in another try at throwing the ghoul off my car. The thing grinned, a horrid, toothy smile beneath the hole where her nose should have been. She still had eyeballs in their sockets, and she glared at me with such scorn that I hit the gas again to get away from her lidless, staring eyes.
Not that it did any good. The ghoul still clung to the door. The crack of metal as the door was ripped off its hinges sent my heart racing even faster. From the corner of my eye, I watched the door fly away and land among the trees.
With the door gone, the ghoul stood with her feet on the edge of the carpeted interior. She stood fairly upright, with her arms stretched over the car’s roof. I slammed on the brakes again and immediately accelerated, heading down the bumpy road at much too fast a speed to be safe.
The ghoul gimbaled her knees and rode the speeding car as nonchalantly as if it were a child’s ride at the amusement park. She pulled one grotesque arm from the roof and reached her gnarled hand toward me. I leaned away as far as I could and still keep control of the car. She took the other arm off the roof, balancing herself somehow with just her legs and feet. The ghoul leaned her putrid head close to mine. I struggled not to gag.
“Do you have it?” the ghoul said through swollen bluish lips. “Give it to me.”
I swerved the car again, a quick right to left. An intersection loomed in front of us. Cars streamed on the street perpendicular ahead. I’d been alone on this less-traveled road. I couldn’t keep swerving and abruptly start and stopping once I hit the main thoroughfare.
I swerved left. None of it meant a thing to the ghoul. She reached into the car with both hands, yanked me from my seat, and threw me over her bony shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The stench of her body was overwhelming. I pulled my head up in a desperate try for fresh air, and saw my car jump the curb and hit a tree. At least it stopped there and didn’t roll down into the main road or over the cliff.
I bounced against the ghoul’s wretched flesh as she ran into the trees across from where my car had crashed. The ground was uneven, making each bounce harder and more jarring than it would have been if the ghoul had been running on the flat. I tried to think of a way to force her to trip over a root or stumble on a gopher hole, but the ghoul never misstepped. Even if she fell, could I outrun the thing? I wasn’t sure. The dead woman was damn fast.
The ghoul came to a hard stop. I rose up in the air and I thought she was going to let me be flung backward onto the ground, but she caught me, flipped me around, and hugged me to her chest.
“Do you have it?” the ghoul said, the same words she’d used before.
“I don’t have it,” I managed to say. The ghoul’s hug was crushing my lungs. “But I know where it is.”
She loosened her hold and let me slide over her nasty flesh to the ground. I stepped back, worried the ghoul would see even a step as an attempt to
run and grab me again. She didn’t seem to think that. At least she didn’t reach for me or tell me to stop. If she could tell me to stop. Maybe those two sentences were all she could manage. But she’d understood what I’d said. I was sure of that.
“The necklace is—” I said.
Where? What could I tell her? I couldn’t lead her to Lady’s or to my house or to anywhere people might be.
The ghoul’s lips drew back from her teeth in what I thought might be a smile.
“You think I’m stupid because I’m a ghoul,” she said. “Right now, you have no more idea where the Mermaid’s Lament is than I do.”
“Well,” I said, shaking off my stunned surprise, “if you thought that, why ask if I have it? And, by the way, why pretend you had about two sentences in your arsenal and nothing more?”
The ghoul stretched her mouth in a lazy, grotesque smile. “It serves our purpose to have others regard us as crazed mercenaries or mere eaters of the dead, only good for clean-up and other ‘disreputable’ jobs.”
I took that in, and added ghouls to the list of very smart adversaries to watch out for.
“If you were aware I didn’t know where the pearls are, why go to all that effort to get me here? My car is smashed—evidently for no good reason. You could have just waved me over or something.”
The ghoul sighed and shrugged one shoulder. “A ghoul needs a little excitement once in a while.” She grinned. “It was a good workout. I need to keep in shape.”
With a different workout partner next time. Thanks so much.
“Again, why chase me down if you knew I didn’t have the necklace?”
“Because I don’t want my employer to have it,” the ghoul said.
That took me aback. “Why?”
“Because she’s a selfish asshole and will use the Mermaid’s Lament’s power only to her own ends. Besides, it isn’t hers. It should go back to the rightful owner.”
She, the ghoul said. Maybe Bodie had been right and the ghoul was working for the coven Miranda was involved with, which I knew from Lady was all female. Or not. Could be a witch I a different coven easily enough.
“Your boss is a witch?” I asked just to clarify things.
“Mmmm,” the ghoul said, adding, “No one you know.”
So not Miranda, presuming the ghoul knew I had met Miranda. That didn’t rule out others in her coven though.
“My employer is trying to return the necklace to its owner.”
“Yes, the estimable Lady Califia. If she really does want to return them.”
I wasn’t going to rise to that bait. “She does. It’s to her advantage for the pearls to go back where they belong.”
The ghoul turned and looked out into the trees. “I have some information that will help you.” She turned back and gave me another one of her unnatural grins. “Think of me as a silent whistle-blower. No one will ever know how you discovered this information.”
“No one will.”
The ghoul seemed to draw in a deep breath. I wasn’t sure if ghouls actually breathed or not.
“Miranda Rawlings has them,” the ghoul said. “Her brother gave them to her before he, um, disappeared.”
I thought about that. I’d already talked to Miranda twice, and yes, she’d been defensive, but I didn’t think she had the necklace. Her anger at and concern for her brother were genuine, I thought. If she had the Mermaid’s Lament, I felt sure she would have handed it over, or at least bargained with it, to keep her brother safe.
“Do you know where Michael Rawlings is?” I asked.
The ghoul shook her head. “No clue.” She leaned toward me. I tried not to gag on her smell. “Do you know where he is?”
“I don’t.”
“Would you tell me if you did?”
“Maybe,” I said. “It would depend on circumstances and if you had something useful to trade.”
She straightened up. “I see what I’ve heard about you is true.”
“And what did you hear? And from whom?”
The ghoul only grinned again and shrugged one shoulder.
We stood without talking long enough that I felt she had something more she wanted to say. If not, why stay around?
“Who are you working for?” I asked to get us talking again. “A witch. What coven?”
The ghoul bared her teeth and laughed. “A ghoul doesn’t kiss and tell. Not if she wants to keep working.”
She went quiet again. I waited. She looked around the woods slowly, then shrugged. Without another word, the ghoul turned and ran through the trees away from the road. She was blazing fast. There was no way I could chase her, and I wasn’t sure there was much of a reason to.
I walked back down the hill, picking my way through the trees and undergrowth to the road and my car. The front right fender was smashed in enough that the tires wouldn’t turn freely. I glanced underneath and saw an axle was broken. This car wasn’t going anywhere without help from a tow truck.
The left door was gone, but fortunately my purse with my phone in it hadn’t flown out into the brush. I grabbed my purse, pulled my phone out of the little front pocket where it lives, and hoped I wasn’t too far up the hill for reception. The phone showed three bars. It was my lucky day.
I rang up the towing service my insurance offers and leaned against my poor smashed Clarity to wait for the driver’s arrival. Good thing I’d known the name of the little road I was on. Trying to describe where I was would have been hard to impossible.
That taken care of, my brain switched back to wondering why the ghoul had told me what she had. Did she really think Miranda Rawlings had the Mermaid’s Lament, or was I getting too close to figuring out who really had it or where it was hidden and the ghoul wanted to slow me down with a false lead? Did the ghoul know I’d just come from talking to Miranda? Could the ghoul know I’d promised Miranda safety for Michael if the necklace was returned? How could the ghoul know that? Could the ghoul be working for Miranda, who really did have the pearls, but wanted me to think she didn’t?
Thank goodness the tow truck showed up before I twisted my brain into a knot. The driver was a guy about my age who seemed to like his job, judging by how he hummed happily under his breath while hitching up my car. We drove together to a repair shop I knew of in San Pedro because I’d gone to high school with the owner’s daughter. Those old school friendships come in handy later in life.
I got an estimate for the repairs, left my car in capable hands, and ordered an Uber to take me to Lady’s.
The moon was well up by the time I made it to the house. Edwin must have seen or heard me arrive. He came out the front door and stood on the porch.
I tipped the driver with cash and watched him back up and drive off.
“What happened to your car?” Edwin said as I walked toward him.
I waved the question away. “Is Lady here?”
He shook his head. “Not back from the office yet. She phoned earlier to say she’d be a bit late. Why? Did you learn something?” He narrowed his eyes. “So, about your car.”
“It’s a bit of a story,” I said.
“Hmm,” he said. “Does it need tea and a sandwich?”
I smiled thinly. “I believe it does. Yes.”
I followed him into the house and down the hall to the kitchen.
Lady’s kitchen is a massive thing with a fifteen-foot high ceiling, black and white tiles on the floor, white subway tiles on the walls, restaurant-quality appliances, and an eight person oak table. Four couples could waltz in that kitchen and not bump into the furniture or each other.
I sat down at the table.
Edwin put on the electric kettle and busied himself making sandwiches from the egg salad he’d made earlier. He spread the concoction on thick slabs of homemade wheat bread, plated them, and brought one to me and set down one for himself at a place across the table from where I sat. The kettle clicked off and Edwin walked back to where it sat on the counter.
“Can I ask you somethi
ng?” I said as Edwin was pouring boiling water over a tea ball stuffed with hibiscus tea. I knew it was hibiscus from the delicate scent.
He looked at me over his shoulder. “Sure.”
“You’re a demigod, right?”
He walked the teapot and two cups over to the table and sat down.
“Right.”
“So why have you chosen to be Lady’s factotum? Shouldn’t you be off doing more demigod sorts of things?”
“Like what?” he said as he filled my cup with sweet-smelling tea. “What do you think demigods should do with their time?”
He had me there. I had no idea what I though demigods should do all day. A week ago, the question never would have entered my mind.
“I don’t know. Watch over something, I guess.”
He chuckled to himself. “I do. I watch over Lady, this house, the garden. I help out wherever and however I can.”
“Are you happy doing that?”
He drew in a breath and sighed it out. “I studied to be a veterinarian. I love animals. But when I got my degree, Dad showed up and said I couldn’t do that. Evidently part of the demigod thing is having extra special abilities. In my case, healing. Dad said I’d be too good at my job and that would draw attention. The gods, goddesses, and the slew of us demigods around are supposed to keep a low profile, just like you magicals don’t go around announcing yourself to the everyday folks.” He grinned at me. “Though with that hair, people might suspect something.”
“My hair is right in fashion,” I said.
“Now,” he said, “but not when you were growing up, and probably not five years from now either.”
I squirmed a little. My hair was a touchy subject. Growing up, I’d taken plenty of ribbings and lots of name calling for something I had no control over.
“A ghoul attacked me tonight,” I said to change the subject. “Wrecked my car.”
He leaned forward, a worried look on his face. “What happened?”
I told him the whole story of my day, starting with my visit to Miranda, the rash promise I’d made to her, the ghoul ripping the door off my car, and what she’d said to me.
The Mermaid's Lament Page 11