Phoenix

by Eden Maguire

  “The kid’s a sleazeball,” Phoenix admitted, still noncommittal.

  “And he has an army of older guys stopping us from finding out the truth—Oscar, Black, and Hall for starters. They all know he’s guilty.”

  “That’s my point.” Frustrated, Phoenix did go back to his old argument. “That’s exactly my point! They know, but they set up a barrier that no one can get through.”

  “So I go to Sheriff Kors,” I decided. “I tell him they kidnapped me.”

  “No!” The strength of his reaction surprised me, and he fixed me with his stare. “If they arrest those four, you’re safe for maybe twenty-four hours. After that, the entire drug cartel this side of the Rockies comes after you.”

  “Because I break the supply chain?”

  “Yeah, you got it. So no arrests, OK?”

  “OK.” I couldn’t argue—I didn’t have the heart. “Stop looking at me like that, Phoenix. Just drive.”

  Reluctantly he put the car into gear. “Dean wants me back at Foxton,” he told me as we drove past the fast-food joints on the Ellerton outskirts.

  Dean, not Hunter, I thought with a sharp pang of regret.

  “Dean does a good job,” Phoenix insisted. “I’ll discuss what just happened with him, get his reaction. I wish I didn’t have to leave you,” he added softly.

  “I’ll be OK,” I told him.

  “All I want to do is take care of you.”

  “You just did, remember?” Trying for a brave smile, all I achieved was a tiny upward curl of my lips.

  Phoenix smiled back then kissed me. “Darina, I love you more every moment that passes,” he whispered. “How is that possible?”

  “Say that again!” I murmured, leaning in for another kiss.

  In the end it was Phoenix who pulled away. “Will you promise me you’ll stay safe until tomorrow? Go home, eat, take a shower then sleep.”

  I knew I would never be able to sleep or eat, but I gave in on staying home. “I won’t leave the house,” I promised.

  Please talk to me, let me in! I pleaded silently. He looked sadly at me, and I had a picture of him, a solitary figure standing on a small, deserted island—a black rock surrounded by a sea of despair. He didn’t even raise his hand to wave good-bye.

  Please!

  With a small shake of his head he kept me out. “And at this point, Darina—however hard it feels, if Dean decides you should step back from this whole deal, you’ll agree?”

  And leave you drifting in eternal torment? Tears filled my eyes. I’d rather die.

  “You won’t have any choice,” Phoenix murmured. “If the overlord says enough, Darina—you can’t do any more, the Beautiful Dead will simply wipe your memory and leave.”

  You’re telling me you left your key in the ignition?”

  This was Jim’s eye-popping reaction when he heard my car had been stolen. It was Thursday morning, and he was just back from an overnight trip fixing software for an out-of-state winery.

  “You know what day this is, so go easy on her,” Laura warned. “It’s a mistake anyone could make.”

  Jim wasn’t listening. “Let me get this straight. You parked your car in the mall with the top down and the key in the ignition. You went shopping for shoes. When you got back, the car was gone.”

  “Yeah.” That was the story I’d given Laura the night before, when she got back from work, by which time I’d thrown my wet clothes in the washing machine and taken a shower. “And I didn’t even buy shoes. Dumb, huh?”

  Jim shook his head slowly in disbelief. “Even for you, Darina.”

  “Listen, I don’t care how it happened.” The night before, Laura had immediately picked up the fact that I was extra fragile, put it down to the approaching anniversary, and held back from asking awkward questions. She’d taken on the job of calling the cops and reporting the theft. Now she moved in to protect me from my stepdad’s inquisition, all the time wiping at kitchen surfaces with an antibacterial cloth. “So long as Darina wasn’t in an accident, so long as she didn’t get hurt—that’s all I care about.”

  “Do you know how much that car is worth?” Jim asked, still incredulous. “And what are you going to do now? How will you get by without transportation? Do we even know if the insurance company will cover it?”

  “I guess I can ask Brandon,” I mumbled. After Phoenix gets back to me with orders from the overlord. After I use Phoenix’s last day on Earth to save my Beautiful Dead boyfriend from an eternity of doubt. Any second now I was expecting a message from Foxton.

  But it wouldn’t come from the person who was at this moment pressing the doorbell.

  “Who’s that?” Jim shot me an accusing glance, as if the visit was connected with me and was bound to turn out bad.

  “So now I can see through doors!” I snapped back. Laura let out an exasperated grunt, put down her cloth, and went to the door. She came back with Henry Jardine in uniform and holding up a set of car keys.

  He smiled at me. “We recovered your vehicle, Darina.”

  “Good job, Henry!” Jim was quick with the compliments. “You guys work fast. Where did you find it?”

  I was expecting an answer that involved Forest Lake and the whole car being submerged, waterlogged, and totally ruined. That would be fine by me—the cops would build a theory around opportunist thieves who took the car for a joyride before dumping it in the lake. There would be no fingerprints, no clues, no danger of Oscar Thorne’s brother being implicated. But no.

  “A security guy down at the Centennial industrial park called us early this morning. He was patrolling a unit where they manufactured furniture before cheap imports drove them out of business.” Jardine had accepted Laura’s silent offer of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table.

  “I know the place,” my stepfather acknowledged. “The Wonderful World of Wood—we bought a bed there in their closing sale.” Typical get-the-facts-straight Jim.

  My heart was sinking. Stupid, badass Nathan! Why didn’t you just drive the freakin’ car into the lake, like Hall suggested?

  “The security guard drove around the back of the building, saw signs of forced entry, stepped inside, and found a forty-thousand-dollar stolen convertible parked inside a disused warehouse.”

  “So who would do something that dumb?” Jim asked while I hovered by the door, looking for a chance to leave.

  “Some low IQ kid, huh?” So far Henry was enjoying himself. It isn’t often a cop gets to deliver good news.

  “Actually, we got clear fingerprints from the steering wheel, and they matched with a set we already have on file.”

  “Cool.” Jim still approved.

  But now Henry Jardine’s expression grew more guarded. “At six o’clock this morning we were knocking on the door of Nathan Thorne, with an order for his arrest.”

  For me, the information was like the gates of the underworld opening up and letting out a pack of Oscar Thorne hellhounds. They would be at me again, dragging me down and tearing at my throat, and this time I got the sense that I wouldn’t escape.

  Laura picked up on my unease and came to stand next to me.

  “We were out of luck—Nathan wasn’t home,” Jardine conceded. “He shares the house with his brother, Oscar, who wasn’t happy about letting us in. We ignored him and tore the place apart—Nathan definitely did a disappearing act.”

  “But you’re still out there looking for him?” Laura checked. “And you’ll tell us the minute you find him?”

  “We’ll do that for sure.” Jardine sipped his coffee and steered us back to what he thought was totally positive news. “This time we found a whole stash of class A drugs in Nathan’s room, measured out, and ready to sell on the street,” he continued. “We already built a case of illegal possession against the kid. After this, the charge sheet will read like an entire book.”

 
Jim nodded. “I heard from Russell Bishop that Sheriff Kors was poised to clean up this town—seems he was right.”

  “Not only that,” Jardine confided, enjoying himself again. “We found other prints besides Darina’s on the car door, and again we came up with a clear match.”

  Laura saw I was shaking so much she actually took my hand and held it. “Are you going to give us names?” she asked.

  “Yeah—they belong to two guys we’ve been gathering evidence on for a couple of years.” The deputy sheriff was torn between the official line of not giving out classified information and the human temptation to share. “They’re definitely in the frame for a serious traffic offense involving the death of a member of the county sheriff’s police department.”

  By this time I felt so wound up and nauseated that I was hardly hearing what was said.

  “Dean Dawson at Amos Peak,” Memory Man Jim recalled swiftly. “You found those guys’ prints on Darina’s car?”

  “Yeah, and at seven a.m. we sent teams out to pull them in. This time it worked out.”

  “Cool,” Jim said, while Laura held on to my hand.

  “Robert Black and Vincent Hall,” Jardine said with slow, steady emphasis, staring right at me. “Right now they’re safe behind bars in the sheriff’s office, and no way will we unlock the door before they go before the judge.”

  • • •

  I didn’t get my car back right away—the forensic officers held it to take pictures and consolidate their evidence—so I set out for Center Point on foot, planning to bring Zak into the loop so he knew Nathan was still on the loose—mad, bad, and dangerous as could be.

  I wanted to warn Zak to be on his guard, but I hadn’t reached the end of my street before I felt Laura draw up beside me.

  “Where are you going?” she leaned out and asked.

  “Nowhere. Just walking.”

  “Why don’t you stay home?”

  “Because!” I muttered, guessing Laura was on her way to work and didn’t have time for a long heart-to-heart.

  “I don’t want you out on the streets—not until Henry tells us that they’ve got Nathan Thorne.”

  I nodded and crouched beside her car. “OK, I’ll go visit Zoey or Hannah—whoever’s home. I’ll take care.”

  “Let me drive you there,” she begged.

  “No, Mom—it’s cool.”

  “Then you get behind the wheel,” she decided, making me step back as she got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side. “You drive me to work and keep the car for the day. That way I can breathe a little easier.”

  “Deal,” I agreed. I drove to the mall, dropped her off outside the clothing shop where she worked, said good-bye, and doubled back in the direction of Michael Rohr’s place.

  So I’d parked Laura’s dark blue sedan near the tower block entrance, next to an old, black Chevrolet, and walked as far as the elevator shaft, pressing the button for the second floor before I realized the significance of “old black Chevrolet.” My stomach flipped, and when the elevator whined and the doors slid open, I was expecting to see Nathan Thorne walk out with Zak hooded, bound, and gagged.

  But actually the elevator was empty, and I had enough time to backtrack in my mind to the evening before, when Phoenix had driven me in Nathan’s Chevy to the outskirts of town.

  “I can’t come any farther in case someone sees me,” he’d told me as he parked in a lot outside Blockbuster. “You walk straight home, stay inside, and wait there for me.”

  I’d promised again that I would and, taking care that there was no one around, Phoenix had done his shimmery dissolving act. I’d gone home, showered, invented a convincing story for Laura about the theft of my convertible, and so far done exactly as Phoenix had told me—sit tight, wait—until Deputy Sheriff Jardine had knocked on our door.

  So what had happened since then to bring the Chevy from the parking lot outside Blockbuster to Center Point?

  A quick figuring out painted the picture in my mind that someone—some aimless kid ready to poke his nose into other people’s business—had called Nathan late last night to ask him if he was out of gas, or else why was his car dumped in an out-of-town lot, and did he need a ride out there to collect it? Which would put Nathan back behind the wheel, driving here to see Zak, which also meant that I was right—Nathan could be here with Zak right now.

  As I stood thinking this through, the door closed and the elevator whined upward, clunked, and shuddered to a stop.

  What would Nathan do to Zak if he found him?

  “This is so not good,” I muttered to myself as the elevator whined, clunked, and shuddered down once more.

  “Hey, Darina,” Michael Rohr said to me as he stepped out. He seemed chilled and relaxed, wearing a two-day stubble and a crumpled linen shirt.

  I eased back on my concerns and returned the greeting.

  “Hey, Michael. Is Zak at home?”

  “That kind of depends on your interpretation of the word home. Do you mean here, or his mom’s house?”

  “Here. I need to talk with him.” I didn’t say why or fill Michael in on the latest details connected with Nathan, Hall, and Black. I didn’t tell him that since the last time we met I’d been half drowned in Forest Lake and was worried they might try something similar on his youngest son.

  “Sorry, it seems like Zak’s a popular guy. A couple of buddies already called.”

  “He went out? Who with?”

  “I have no clue. That was before Brandon showed up. I told him the same story—Zak went out early.”

  “Brandon was here, too?”

  Michael pursed his lips. “You have a lot of questions, Darina. It seems Zak hasn’t made any final decision about where he wants to stay, so Sharon sent Brandon over with a bag of clean clothes.”

  “And this other kid—you don’t know his name, but what did he look like?” The black Chevy in the parking lot still loomed large, and I was pressing for answers.

  “I didn’t get a clear view. Zak answered the door. What is this—the third degree?”

  “No, everything’s cool. I was just curious.”

  “I only saw the kid from the window. I guess that’s his car,” Michael said and pointed to the Chevy.

  That was it—my fears were confirmed. “Long, black hair, kind of baby faced?” I asked.

  “That’s him. He was getting into the car with Zak when an older guy in a black Mercedes pulled up. Zak and his buddy changed their minds and got into the Mercedes instead. Nice set of wheels—who can blame them?”

  “OK, thanks.” I nodded and turned, started to run toward Laura’s car.

  “Is everything OK?” Michael called after me. “What happened to your convertible?”

  “It got stolen. Yeah, everything’s cool!” I yelled back, my mind in chaos as I reached the car.

  I should have stayed, told Michael the full story—I know that now.

  • • •

  My first thought was to ignore Phoenix’s instructions and drive straight out to Foxton. That would be forty-five minutes, maybe an hour in Laura’s car. Was that better than going to Henry Jardine? How would the cops react when they heard Nathan Thorne had visited Center Point and his car was still there? Would they step up their search?

  I drove aimlessly, trying to fix on my next move.

  Jeez, Darina, tell someone! Arizona-in-my-head came back full volume. You know how it feels to be snatched off the street. Do something, for Christ’s sake!

  “OK, I go back and tell Michael,” I said, doing a U-turn.

  No way. Zak’s dad already left, my internal Arizona reminded me. Who knows where he is now?

  “So it’s the cops.” I swung back around, across a line of traffic.

  Or Sharon? Arizona reminded me. If my kid had been kidnapped, I’d want to know.

 
; “I can’t get my head around this.” I groaned. “Phoenix, what do I do?”

  There was no answer.

  Try to stay calm, Summer would say. I listened hard for her voice from beyond the grave. Who knows the reason Nathan went to Michael’s apartment? Maybe Zak is safe after all.

  I shook my head. “He’s in trouble. I have to do something.”

  I stopped at a red light, and Brandon pulled up beside me carrying a passenger.

  “Zak needs us!” I gasped.

  The passenger was Kyra, the gas station cashier, looking cute in a fringed jacket and leather pants on the backseat of a Harley—but this wasn’t the point. I didn’t realize she knew Brandon this well, is all I’m saying.

  Brandon pointed across the street to a KFC parking lot.

  “Follow me,” he said.

  By the time I parked next to him, Kyra had got off the Dyna and disappeared. “What car does Oscar Thorne drive?” I asked Brandon, who had dismounted and was staring at me, trying to decide if I was nuts.

  “Mercedes,” he told me.

  “Black?”

  He nodded.

  “OK, so Oscar and Nathan have got Zak.”

  “You’re certain?”

  “Yesterday they snatched me from my car. They tried to kill me.”

  “Slow down. Breathe. What’s that got to do with them taking my brother?”

  “Oscar knows I told the cops Nathan was carrying drugs. He also knows Zak was there and that I hang out with Zak. Now the cops are after Nathan. They already arrested Black and Hall.”

  “Again, breathe.” Brandon’s eyes narrowed. He looked as if he was going to waste time yelling at me then changed his mind. “Deep breaths, Darina. Think. Do you know where they would take Zak?”

  “They drove me out to Forest Lake. I don’t think they would do the same thing twice. And they wouldn’t take him to their house, not with the cops crawling all over the place.”

  “Somewhere out of town?” Brandon prompted.

  “Foxton maybe?”

  “No. Why Foxton?”

  “I just thought maybe.”