“Remember that guy you had me look up? Henry Divita? Seems they ID’d his daughter as one of the bodies in that penthouse burning.”
Damn, that explained all the pictures in the basement. Divita wasn’t obsessed over the hooker, he was trying to find his daughter and bring her back home. It was just stupid chance that the tuurngaq had found me there. Poor guy had his house ruined for nothing.
“Let me guess,” I said, “Divita’s daughter was one of the prostitutes Senator Helms was paying off.”
“Not paying off, exactly,” Jessie told me, “but I think he was still seeing her. Her bank account shows a thousand every week for the last six months.”
“She probably threatened to tell his wife or something.”
“That’s usually how the ugliness goes down.”
“How did you…never mind,” I told her, “I don’t want to know. Is that it?”
“Is that it, he says,” she snorted into the phone. “Like I’ve been making bread for the past two days. Yeah, that’s it.”
“OK, thanks, Jessie. I’ll send your usual payment in a few days.”
“Hey, don’t sweat it, Superman. Since you left I’ve been bored to tears down here. The hacking lanes ain’t what they used to be, with Homeland Security all in our faces. You just take care of yourself up there. These Codex guys are some bad mojo with a murder cherry on top.”
“I will. Thanks, Jessie.”
“Who was that?” Adam asked curtly as I hung up the phone and opened my laptop.
“An old friend,” I said as I opened a web browser and went to the news search.
“What are you doing?” Adam demanded. “Beth is out there right now and you’re talking to friends and playing on the computer?”
I didn’t answer him. The keywords “Northgate” and “raid” gave me what I needed. Man, I love technology. In the old days I’d have to waste time trying to track down a newspaper. Now it was at my fingertips.
“They’re saying it was a drug raid,” I told them. “Police aren’t commenting, but the news is running that Beth owned the homeless shelter. Like she was smuggling in her free time.”
“But no mention of you,” Thelma stated. “I expected your apartment to be covered in police.”
I shook my head. “My name isn’t well known, but my publisher would damn well look into why one of their top authors has gone missing. It’s easier if they kill me quietly.”
“So why didn’t they?” she asked. “Why not send someone to kill you in your sleep?”
“Too many witnesses maybe? Who knows. All I know is the whole thing stinks like a cover-up, and a big one, too.” I smiled without humor. “And like I thought, not a single reporter is digging any deeper.”
“What does any of this have to do with us finding Beth and Amanda?” Adam demanded.
Thelma looked at me, and a smile played over her lips. “You know who did this, don’t you?”
“Jessie gave me the last piece of the puzzle I needed.” I sighed and glanced at Adam. He wouldn’t like this. “Adam,” I asked him, “did Beth ever mention Amanda’s father?”
He frowned. “No, she would never speak of him. I felt her pain when the topic came up.”
I nodded. “I thought so. I was looking through photos of Amanda growing up,” I said, “and I realized the resemblance to another picture I had seen recently. One of a certain senator at a young age.”
Adam went still, and Thelma’s eyes widened. “Senator Helms,” she said.
“The one and only. Helms paid quite a bit of money over the years to cover up his infidelities. So if Helms is Amanda’s father, he might not even know. Helms wanted to close the homeless shelter for whatever reason, and suddenly Beth came out of the woodwork with his bastard child and blackmailed him into keeping silent.”
“Beth would never do that,” Adam said softly.
“Really? How many people would be out on the street if St. Padros closed? Beth seems like a practical woman to me, and if it was the only way to get the senator to back off, why wouldn’t she?”
Adam lapsed into angry silence.
“But what she didn’t count on was the senator’s affiliations,” I continued. “The good senator has had a miraculous run in the last ten years. No scandals, no losses. It’s as if he’s been getting extra help.”
Jake pushed himself away from the wall. “You’re thinking demon assistance? You know what kind of power he would need for something like this?”
“A captain of Hell is pretty powerful,” I said grimly. “I figure Helms has been summoning Shabriri for a while now, which explains why it’s so easy for him. Demons tend to latch themselves more and more onto their summoner, right?”
Jake nodded. “Then the demon rides the poor bastard until there’s nothing left.”
“That’s where it falls apart,” I told him. “I met Helms. He didn’t seem like the Lex Luther type.”
Jake laughed. “No offense, Nick, but they don’t call the demon the Deceiver because he lies on his tax returns.”
I mulled that over for a moment and realized that it left an ashy taste in my mouth. I like to pride myself on my empathy because you’re either good or you’re dead in this business. And to get fooled that easily by a demon, no matter how powerful, made me realize just how lucky I’d been the last few days.
And how lucky I was going to have to be tonight.
“OK,” I said, “so Senator Helms is blackmailed by Beth, and he decides the best solution is to kill her and her child.”
“But he tries to get rid of you first,” Thelma said.
“Looks like it, although I’m still not sure why,” I told her. That’s the part that stumped me. I mean, I was good at my job, but not that good. I wasn’t someone that kings sent armies after.
Adam grunted impatiently. “None of this matters,” he snapped, “except whether or not Helms has Beth and Amanda, and whether or not they are alive.”
“So why would he keep them alive now?” Thelma asked.
I glanced over at Jake, and even though we couldn’t make eye contact, I could see his dark skin go ashen. Thelma followed my gaze and looked at her brother.
“If Shabriri is trapped,” Jake said softly, “that means Helms needs another demon. But he’s bound to the Deceiver, so any other summoning would be like lifting a semi with a salad fork. He would need a lot of sacrifices…or just one.”
Silence descended like a funeral shroud. Thelma put a hand to her mouth as I finished Jake’s thought. “He needs innocence. And this way he gets exactly what he wants, all the way around.”
Adam’s mouth worked, but no sound came out. He turned, but I could sense what he was about to do so I grabbed his arm. He almost pulled me out of the chair. His hand clenched and he spun, his arm raised.
I was on my feet before he could decide what to do. I pulled him close so that he couldn’t lash out and so I could look him directly in the eye. “If you want them to see the morning,” I said softly, “you’ll sit down and listen to what I have to say. Then, if you still want to go off and get yourself killed, you have my blessing. But I’m your only chance of getting them out and you know it.”
He glared at me, and I thought for sure he’d lash out. I tensed, waiting for the blow.
It never came. His anger still came white hot, but he pushed me back, yanked his arm from my grasp…and sat down.
I looked at all of them. Jake stood protectively near Thelma, who looked like she was going to throw up. Adam sat to my left, his face dark and troubled. Each one of them waited for me to speak.
I didn’t like working in a team. Even when Cate and Ann were around I tended to have my own cases and my own clients. In my line of work there was always collateral damage, and once again I was asking people I cared about to trust me. Granted, the majority of my plan would fall on me, but like I said, collateral damage was never pretty.
But then a picture came to my mind of a stuffed yellow dog filled with so much love it was almost alive. I thought of
trusting blue eyes and a promise. A promise I would keep, even if meant I’d be meeting Cate and Ann a little earlier than expected.
“OK,” I told them, “time is of the essence here. Four hours gone, and we don’t know the senator’s timetable. They’re probably still alive since we don’t have a giant demon using our intestines as dental floss. But to do this I need each of you. And some of you,” I looked at Thelma and Jake, “aren’t going to like your roles. But you need to trust me or none of this will work.”
No one protested, not even Adam. “Good,” I said. “Let’s get started.”
<><><>
Jake and I stood outside my apartment complex with the howling wind raging around us. The rain had disappeared, but the cold had settled in like the chill of a morgue. Not a pleasant thought.
“You’re crazy, you know that?” Jake told me. We stood waiting for Thelma to pull up in her VW. Jake’s girlfriend, a petite bit of steel named Shala, had taken Thelma to get her car during my self-imposed coma.
“Crazy for what I’m planning or crazy for keeping Thelma out of it?” I asked him. “I don’t think she was too pleased to get driver duty.”
“My sister might be stubborn, but she knows her limits,” Jake said. “She knows what we have to do, and she knows it’s over her head.”
“But she still doesn’t like it.”
“’Course not. Although,” he scowled, “she’s probably going to start coming around and asking me to teach her more. Once you get a taste it’s hard to stop.” He pointed a finger in my general direction. “And I blame you.”
I chuckled and huddled in my jean jacket. I glanced over at Adam, who stood in the shadows about ten feet from us. Jake must’ve read my mind, because he said in a softer voice, “Why are you bringing him, Nick? You’re going to get him killed.”
There were some pretty big holes in my theory that bugged me. No-Eyes might be powerful, but my gut told me there was more. Ten years of surviving politics was like surviving ten years as a gladiator without getting a scratch. I don’t think even a captain of Hell had that much power.
And somehow that “more” involved Adam. I didn’t know how, but it did. Cate had told me in the dream to trust my instincts, and I had a hunch there was more to Adam than a kindly homeless man.
“I want him where I can see him,” I said.
“Where you can protect him, more like it.”
“You think he would stay home if I told him to?”
“You got a point.”
I smiled and changed the subject. “I don’t think your girlfriend liked being sent home.”
“She was pissed,” Jake agreed. “Kept telling me how she was a Voudoun priestess, that her great-aunt was Marie Laveau herself, and on and on. But she hasn’t seen the shit we have, Nick, and I plan to keep it that way.”
“So how did you get her to leave?”
“Showed her your ugly ass. She took one look at your torn-up carcass and hightailed it right out of here.”
“At least all the scars are good for something.”
The blue Beetle pulled up in front of us. Adam went first, his agitation coming off him like a tsunami. He yanked open the passenger door without asking and slammed it after him.
I opened the rear door for Jake. “After you,” I told him.
“The day I need a door held for me is the day hell freezes over,” he snapped.
As he got in, I muttered, “That’s what I said about getting back in the business.”
I then went around to the other side and joined them.
“So this woman we’re visiting, she’ll know where Beth and Amanda are?” Adam asked as Thelma pulled onto Fremont Blvd.
“She should,” I answered.
“Should?” Adam demanded. “We are delaying our search based on a hope?”
“She’s the only hope,” I told him. “You can grab a taxi if you want. The website lists the senator’s address as Mercer Island. There have to be two, three hundred houses over there.”
“Who are we talking about anyway?” Jake asked. “I thought I knew all the supernatural power brokers around here.”
Thelma turned left on a small street and pulled into the parking lot behind the library.
“She’s a bit sensitive about her privacy,” I told him. “I’ll be back.”
I stepped out of the car. The leaden sky drizzled down on me, almost daring me to keep warm. Time was of the essence, so I hunkered down against the cold and ran across the parking lot. I heard a car door slam behind me as I reached the library’s front door, and I shook my head.
“Jake‒” I started to say as I turned around.
Instead Thelma walked up to me and opened the front door. “What are you waiting for?” she asked.
“Thelma—”
“Don’t you ‘Thelma’ me, Nicholas St. James,” she shot back. “I can agree to drive Jake around like a damn chauffeur because I know the stakes, but I’m not going to be left out of everything. Now let’s go meet this friend of yours.”
I opened my mouth to argue and then shut it. Thelma had that look. Ann used to have the same one when I tried to talk her out of something. So I simply shrugged and walked past her into the warmth of the library.
Fay sat at the front desk reading a newspaper, her loafers propped up on a stack of thick encyclopedias. “You’re late,” she said without even looking up.
I raised an eyebrow. “How do you figure that?”
“By my watch. But at least you’re not too late,” she answered as she swung her legs around and looked at me over her thin glasses. “Who’s your friend?”
“Thelma Babineaux,” Thelma said politely as she offered her hand.
Fay took one look at her, smiled, and shook her hand. “I like her. It’s important you remember that.” She looked at me pointedly.
I hated when she did that.
“You’re here for the girl, I presume?” Fay asked as she sat back down.
“The girl and her mother. We need to know where they’re at.”
Fay nodded. “You do know what it means to ask me a favor, young man.”
I took a deep breath. “I do.”
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said with a smile. Her teeth gleamed, and for a moment I had images of a wolf smiling at a trapped deer.
“Stay here. I’ll be back in a moment.” Fay stood up, smoothed down her dress pants, and went into the back.
“How does she know about Beth and Amanda?” Thelma whispered.
“It was her function, a long time ago. The legends are pretty scarce, but I think she was the goddess of marriage and prophecy.”
“Goddess?” Thelma asked softly.
I smiled. “Yup. They seem to collect names like groupies, but you might know her as—”
“Fricka, although I never did like that one,” Fay answered for me as she walked out of the back. “Also Frijjō. Although the masses know me as something more popular these days.”
Thelma's eyes widened. “Frigga,” she whispered.
I chuckled as Fay gave a mysterious smile and sat down at the desk. Yup, I remember the feeling I had when I realized that my friendly neighborhood librarian was Frigga, Norse Goddess, wife of Odin, mother of Baldur and Hod, and step-mother to Thor, God of Thunder. Part of you wants to bow down and the other part of you wants to run away screaming.
I could sense all sorts of questions gathering like storm clouds in Thelma’s mind, but we didn't have time. Fay ignored it all as she placed what looked like a rolled up carpet on the desk in front of us.
“So this is as far as I could get on my old spinning wheel last night,” Fay told Thelma and me as she unrolled the tapestry. It was a map of Seattle, done in an old classical style, with gorgeous little icons and detailed mountains, roads, and buildings. An ornate design twined and twisted in golden thread around the borders.
I whistled. “You did this in a single night? You’re in the wrong profession.”
She smiled. “Yo
u’re kind, but I used to do this all day long, and it bored me to tears. Now I only pull the old wheel out for special occasions.”
“Well, I’m glad this counts as one,” I told her. “So what do we do?”
“This thing you’re mixed up in, Nick, it’s a nasty business. Nasty enough to block my sight from all but this.” She gestured at the map. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t give you a little nudge in the right direction.” She reached under her desk and pulled out a wicked-looking knitting needle. Definitely not the kind you’d find at a craft store.
“Now,” she told us, dropping her voice down, “I need a bit of blood to point us in the right direction. That’s why you’re here, my girl,” she said, nodding at Thelma.
“You knew I was coming?” Thelma asked.
Fay smiled again.
“Wait,” I said, “why not use mine?” I could only guess what poor Thelma was thinking, looking at that knitting dagger in the other woman’s hand.
“Yours is too loud,” Fay snapped. “Do you want every being from here to Spokane knowing where you are? No, it’s got to be hers. She has fire in her blood, this one does, as well as fire in her future.”
Before I could protest, Thelma stepped forward and held out a delicate brown hand.
“Ah, you’ve worked with blood before, I see,” Fay said. She took Thelma’s hand in hers, turning it over as if looking for an elusive detail only she could see. “Your road is long, but your past is longer. You are sister and mother, all rolled into one.” She smiled again and leaned close to Thelma, whispering something to her. I didn’t strain my hearing to eavesdrop, but it was tempting. Thelma looked visibly shaken as the old woman finished her whisper and straightened back up.
I’ve learned over the years that there were two very different Fays. One was the nice, older librarian who loved classical literature and the occasional romance novel. The other was a creature who was old before the Pilgrims stepped foot on American soil. You can guess which one stood before us at that moment.
You can also guess which one scared the crap out of me.
“So let’s get this show on the road,” Fay announced. “I haven’t done this in a while, so I might be a little rusty, but I think I have enough of the old belief to get us started.”
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