Buried. He ran a hand through his hair and then dropped it back to his knee. Marco, buried. What the hell was going on?
“Why don’t you crash here with me for a few days?” he asked. “You can tell Genoveva that you thought it would be better for Sophia not to have so many people around.”
Cat brightened for a moment at this suggestion but then shook her head. “No, that won’t work. I know Mom will just say that I’m running away — and she’d be right — and then she’d give me a guilt trip for not wanting to stay and be there for Sophia. Which I should do. So…it’ll be all right.”
Rafe wasn’t so sure about that, but he knew better than to argue. His sister’s sense of family duty had always been a lot stronger than his own. “Okay, but if you need me to steal you away for a few hours here and there, just let me know. I’m sure we can manufacture some excuse.”
The expression on Cat’s face told him she wasn’t so sure about their ability to fool their mother. She didn’t protest, however, only reached for the glass of water she’d left sitting in front of her on the coffee table. No doubt she was wishing the glass held something a little stronger than water — a sentiment Rafe definitely shared — but both of them knew that drinking right now wasn’t a good idea. There was a very strong chance that Genoveva might call again and need them to run an errand for her, do something to prepare for Sophia’s stay at the house. Rafe couldn’t really think what that might be, since the place was always immaculate and the freezer and refrigerator fully stocked, but he knew his mother well enough to believe she would think of something.
His phone buzzed again. Here it comes, he thought as he bent to pick it up, but then Rafe saw that the number displayed on the screen was Daniel’s, not his mother’s.
Had he found something? That would be the one bright spot in this otherwise miserable day.
“Hey, Daniel,” Rafe said, watching as Cat sat up straighter on the couch, her gaze suddenly sharp. “You heard the news?”
“I did,” Daniel replied in properly subdued tones. “My mother called me at the office. That’s…rough.”
“Yeah, it is. We’re all kind of in shock right now.”
“I can understand that.” A pause, and then he went on, “I don’t know if you want to back off on the Miranda thing for a while — ”
“No,” Rafe cut in. That was the last thing he wanted. He needed to make some progress in finding his missing fiancée, because even a few hopeful signs in that direction might help to restore his faith in the universe. Right now, he wasn’t feeling too great about the state of the world, or at least his small corner of it. “We need to keep going, even — even though this has happened.”
“Got it. Well, I don’t have much news for you, unfortunately. All the traces I put on Miranda’s bank accounts have turned up nothing. As far as I can tell, she hasn’t touched her checking or her savings account since she left Arizona.”
But what did that mean, precisely? That whoever had taken her wasn’t interested in her money? Or, Rafe thought, his blood going cold, that she was as dead as Marco, and therefore had no reason to touch any of her accounts?
Something of the worry in his frozen silence must have communicated itself to his cousin, because Daniel said quickly, “Which doesn’t necessarily mean anything. If she’d had sufficient cash on her, she could be using that to get by.”
“She couldn’t have had any money on her, Daniel,” Rafe replied in biting tones. “She disappeared in her goddamn wedding gown.”
Something about that comment appeared to pique Cat’s interest for some reason, because she frowned slightly, then got up from the couch and disappeared down the hallway. What the hell was that about?
“Oh, right,” Daniel said, sounding apologetic. “I forgot about that little detail. Well, in a way this is good news, because at least it shows she wasn’t taken by someone who was after her money.”
No, just her beauty, just her enticing body. Rafe had to shove that thought aside with an almost physical effort. He couldn’t allow himself to think of someone using her, violating her, because then he thought he really would go crazy over his current impotence. Because he could pretend to be proactive, have his private detective cousin on the case, but, Rafe thought glumly, when you got right down to it, what he was doing right now was basically the intellectual equivalent of jerking off.
Cat came back into the living room, frowning. Clearly, whatever she’d gone to check on, she hadn’t found what she was looking for. Well, that would have to wait until he was off the phone.
“Hey,” Rafe went on, “I know you didn’t know Marco that well, but stuff still gets around the family grapevine.”
“That’s for sure.”
Daniel’s tone was grim, and Rafe thought he knew why. His cousin’s divorce had been unmercifully picked apart by a large portion of the Castillo clan, probably because divorce was so rare in their Catholic witch family. However, he knew better than to say anything on the topic, even in commiseration, since he understood that Daniel wanted to leave that whole mess behind him. “Did you hear anything about Marco dating someone named Tess?”
“Tess? I don’t think so, but I’ll admit I don’t pay much attention to that kind of thing.”
“You’re sure?” Rafe asked. It had been a long shot, but he couldn’t help feeling a wave of disappointment at his cousin’s reply.
“Pretty sure. Why? Is she someone who needs to be notified about his death?”
That consideration was something Rafe hadn’t even thought of. “No. I mean, I don’t know. Cat and I were at the hospital this afternoon, right before…well, right before. And even though Marco was in a coma and shouldn’t have been able to speak, he had some kind of a fit or seizure, kept saying, ‘Tess…Tess.’ Cat and I couldn’t figure out what he was trying to say, and then he was just…gone.”
“Hmm.” Daniel was silent for a moment, clearly pondering this new piece of information. “I don’t know what that could mean. You should probably ask Sophia.”
That was the most logical thing to do, and yet Rafe quailed at the thought of attempting to ask Marco’s grieving mother if she knew anything about her late son’s love life. “I guess I will,” he said cautiously, “when the time feels right. It’s just frustrating me, because it seems as though Marco was trying really hard to tell us something, and the message didn’t quite get through. And now it never will.”
“Don’t say ‘never,’” Daniel told him. “Sometimes you get an insight when you least expect it. Anyway, I have a client coming in at five, so I need to prep for that. I just wanted to let you know what I’d found — or hadn’t found — about Miranda’s accounts. And…I suppose I’ll hear when the funeral will be happening.”
“Yes, Genoveva’s on that,” Rafe said. “Probably on Friday, but we’ll let you know.”
“Thanks, Rafe. Hang in there.”
He made a noncommittal sound and ended the call. Almost as soon as he swiped his finger over the screen, Cat said, “Her stuff is gone.”
“What stuff?”
“Miranda’s bags, remember? You were going to check to see if they were still sitting in the entry where I left them, but you never did, I guess because Mom called about Marco being in the hospital and we both sort of rushed out of here.”
Oh, right. With everything that had been going on, he’d barely had a chance to remember to brush his teeth, let alone remind himself to go look for those mythical bags. Now, though, Cat’s remark made him frown. “You’re sure they’re gone?”
She gave him what he always thought of the “Cat” look, head tilted slightly to one side, right eyebrow lifted at a quizzical angle. “Well, unless someone put a spell on them to make them invisible, yes, they’re gone. Your entryway isn’t so big that I would miss a couple of weekender bags sitting on the floor.”
No, it wasn’t. He reached up and rubbed the side of his head, pretty sure he had a headache coming on. Unfortunately, that was the least of his worries rig
ht now. “So, what are you saying — that someone broke in here and took Miranda’s stuff?”
“Well, you don’t have them, and I know I left those bags there for her so you guys could make a quick getaway after the reception.” Rafe couldn’t help but wince slightly at the thought of the wedding reception that had never happened, and Cat went on hurriedly, “Which means someone must have taken them. And there wouldn’t have been any sign of a break-in if it was a witch or warlock who did it, right?”
“No, there wouldn’t.” Now his head was really hurting, but he ignored the ache as the import of his sister’s words sank in. He’d already sensed some kind of dark magic in downtown Santa Fe, although he hadn’t been able to pin it to a particular person. But what if that person — Robert Marquez, for lack of a better way to think of the man, although Rafe knew the name was only one the warlock had stolen to hide his identity — what if that person had come along while everyone was in an uproar and had taken Miranda’s things?
Had taken them, in fact, because he was the one who’d kidnapped her. The answer was so obvious that Rafe wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before this. Then again, there hadn’t been any evidence to show that Miranda had been taken by force. She sure as hell had teleported out of the cathedral of her own free will.
Or…had she? Just because she’d pulled that disappearing act in front of Cat previously didn’t mean that the same force was at work here. Maybe the warlock who’d stolen her had only made it look as though she was teleporting the way she had before. It would be a great way to deflect suspicion, because everyone — Rafe included — had just assumed that she’d teleported away under her own power.
Cat sat down on the couch next to him, face drawn with worry. “Rafe, what are you thinking?”
“I’m not sure yet. I get the feeling someone’s taken her…but who? And why?”
“Well, she’s the daughter of two wealthy and powerful people. And she was going to marry the son of the Castillo prima. That might be plenty of incentive for some unscrupulous warlock to swoop in, but if this was all about ransom or something like that, you’d think we would have heard from him. Or her,” Cat added. “I mean, I suppose a witch could be behind this as well.”
“I don’t think so,” Rafe said. He wasn’t quite sure why he felt so sure of that point, but some weird sixth sense was telling him that Miranda’s captor had to be male. Once again he had the niggling feeling that he was overlooking something vitally important, but the more he tried to probe at it with his mind, the more it seemed to slip away. “I’m sure it’s connected to Robert Marquez — I mean, the person who was using Robert Marquez’s identity. Maybe we need to go back to that Airbnb.”
“I thought that didn’t go so well last time.”
“No,” Rafe admitted, “but that was because I was basically breaking and entering. Why don’t I try to rent it? Then we’d have free rein to go through the place at our leisure.”
Cat appeared to consider his suggestion for a moment, then nodded. “That sounds like a good idea, actually.”
“All right, then.” He rose from the couch. “Let me go get my laptop and see if the place is available.”
As he headed upstairs to fetch his computer, Rafe wondered if once again they were following a dead end, a lead that really didn’t mean anything. He didn’t think so, though. Or at least, he really hoped not.
He unplugged the laptop from its charger and brought it back down to the living room, setting it down on the coffee table and opening it up so Cat could see what he was doing. It wasn’t too difficult to find the Airbnb unit in question, since he already knew its location. And, thank God, it was currently unoccupied — it wasn’t booked again until Thanksgiving week, which should give them plenty of time.
“How long should I book it for?” he asked, hurriedly setting up an account and getting his credit card information entered. Of course he’d never had any reason to use the service before this; witches and warlocks tended to stay put and not travel very much, and the times he’d gone up to Taos or headed south to visit Carlsbad Caverns, he’d stayed in regular hotels.
Cat pursed her lips. “Hmm…I don’t know…three days?”
“All right.” The unit wasn’t all that expensive; reserving it for a day or two longer than he needed wouldn’t be that big a deal. He requested a stay for three nights, starting tonight. Luckily, this particular Airbnb was set up for automatic booking, so he didn’t have to wait for the owner to accept his request. The whole transaction went through in less than a minute, and almost at once he had several emails in his inbox, one confirming receipt of payment and the other a chatty little note from the owner with information about parking, the code for the door lock, that sort of thing.
“So we’re set?” Cat asked as he closed the laptop.
“Looks that way. Let’s head over and see what we can find.”
“Are you going to pack?”
“‘Pack’?” he repeated, not sure what his sister was driving at.
“Well, if you’re really going to inspect the place, you might as well stay. Maybe you’ll notice things you otherwise wouldn’t. Besides, it sounds like the owner tends to come poking around. She’s going to think it’s weird if you don’t have any luggage.”
“She’s going to think it’s weird anyway, since she just found me there a day ago,” he replied, then let out a breath. “But you’re probably right. With any luck, she’ll think I fell so in love with the place that I had to rent it right away.”
Cat’s skeptical expression told him exactly what she thought of that idea, but he would just have to take the risk. After all, he paid for the Airbnb fair and square. If the owner thought it was strange for him to be staying there, so be it. But with any luck, he wouldn’t run into her at all.
“I’ll go throw a few things in a duffle bag,” he said. “Give me a couple of minutes.”
“Okay.”
Once again he went upstairs, this time to get the bag down from the top shelf of his closet. He didn’t bother with any heavy-duty packing, only a spare pair of jeans and some T-shirts, underwear and socks, toiletries hastily stuffed into their own small leather bag. Fewer than five minutes had elapsed since he went upstairs. When he got back to the living room, it was to find Cat on the phone.
“Yes, Mom, I know,” she was saying. “And I’ll be home as soon as I can. I’m helping Rafe with something right now. Okay. Right. I know. See you soon.” She ended the call and shoved the phone in her purse, a scowl of irritation creasing her brow.
“I see Genoveva is in her usual form,” Rafe remarked as he set the duffle bag on the floor.
“Well, she’s a little on edge. Dad is driving Sophia home to Taos so she can get some things together for a few days’ stay, and Mom has been on the phone with the bishop, trying to get the funeral set up. He’s doing his best to accommodate her, but I get the impression he’s also been asking what the hell went on at your wedding.”
“That’s something we’d all like to know,” he said, his tone sour. “But if Dad’s off to Taos with Sophia, that means the two of them won’t be back in Santa Fe for a while. That should give you enough time to come over and help me look at the flat. With any luck, it’ll be haunted, and you’ll be able to pick the resident ghost’s brain.”
“I don’t know about the building itself,” Cat responded, “but remember Annalisa, the ghost who hangs out by Burro Alley? That’s close enough that she might have seen something.”
Right. Cat had mentioned Annalisa when they were in San Antonio, but then they’d gotten broadsided by the Montoya witches and warlocks almost immediately afterward, and what with one thing or another, they hadn’t had time to follow up. Just like Miranda’s bags — loose ends that he shouldn’t have lost track of. It almost felt as though some outside force was doing its very best to keep him off the scent.
Well, try all you want, he thought, but I’m going down there now, and I will find something, damn it.
“
Yes, we’ll talk to Annalisa after we check out the Airbnb,” he said. “We’d better take two cars. That way I can stay, and if you need to head home unexpectedly, you’ll have your own vehicle.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
They headed out, he to the garage so he could get in his Jeep Wrangler, Cat to the driveway to retrieve her Mercedes SUV. She didn’t wait for him to back out, but headed west toward their destination, probably so she would have enough time to park in the structure across the street from the Airbnb and then wait for him. Since he was staying there, he’d have access to one of the parking spaces behind the building, which would make the logistics a bit simpler.
Sure enough, she was standing on the sidewalk in front of the wine tasting room, looking in the window a bit wistfully. As he approached, she said, “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a clue early on. Then we can come here and have a drink. I could use one about now.”
“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Rafe replied. “Luck doesn’t seem to have been on my side lately.”
Being Cat, she knew better than to try to tell him he shouldn’t talk that way, or that he was being too negative. Instead, she said, “Then we might as well go inside and see what we can find.”
“This way. The entrance is around back.”
She followed him down the alley and to the small stoop where the back door to the building was located. Of course he didn’t need a code to get in, but he dutifully entered it anyway, retrieving the numbers from the confirmation email he’d been sent. They went up the stairs and on into the flat, which looked just the same as the last time he’d been here. That made perfect sense; the owner had just had it cleaned, and no one had stayed here since.
“Any ghosts?” he asked after he’d shut the door behind him.
Cat moved into the living room and stood there for a moment, eyes shut. At last she shook her head. “No. This place feels unoccupied. But….”
“But what?”
“I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. Something about it doesn’t feel clean, though. Like there’s some kind of weird oily magical residue on everything.”
The Witches of Canyon Road, Books 1-3 Page 40