Mortal Ties wotl-9

by Eileen Wilks

  “That’s right, you didn’t see his file, did you?”

  Rule, on the other hand, had pretty much memorized it. “Arjenie dug up a fair amount about Adam King,” he said. “He showed up in one of her databases because he and Jasper purchased the house together three years ago. King is an architect who was laid off during state cutbacks a couple of years ago. He’s put out his own shingle and is enjoying some success, but he works from home. He wasn’t there today. He might have left the house for any number of reasons, but there was only one takeout lunch at the table. Only one mug on the coffee table, too.”

  Lily nodded, tapping away on her laptop. “Add to that Machek’s attitude. He wasn’t worried about getting arrested. He made the right noises, but he didn’t really care. What else would cause that kind of funneling of priorities? Odds were he was frantic about a person, not an object.”

  “Okay,” Cullen said, “I can see that. What are you working on, anyway?”

  “A request for a phone tap.”

  Rule’s head jerked. “A tap? On Jasper? But if he isn’t reporting a kidnapping—”

  She gave him a look he couldn’t read. “I’m not going to charge your brother with failure to disclose. That doesn’t mean I have to pretend Adam King’s really gone off for some downtime without his phone. First step is a tap on Jasper’s phones—at his store, his house, on his mobile. He could have a throwaway given him by his employer especially for contact, but we can’t do anything about that.”

  Cullen grinned. “You’re sneaky. Isen would approve. Where are we going, anyway?”

  Sometimes Cullen was unnervingly observant. Sometimes he failed to notice the proverbial brass band. “To the hotel,” Rule said. “Assuming Lily still wants to put off checking in with her local office?” She nodded, and Rule went on, “Tony Romano is at the hotel.”

  “What, already?”

  “Per Isen’s instructions, he didn’t go to Nokolai Clanhome. I’m to accept his submission on behalf of Nokolai.”

  “Huh. What’s on the list after that?”

  Lily raised her brows. “You have something else you need to do?”

  “I could be working a Find spell for the prototype. Cynna stayed up damn near all night working up a more detailed pattern for it, and she gave me a copy of the pattern. Integrating that pattern into a spell takes longer than using it the way she would,” he added, “and I’ll need privacy for that.”

  “Oh. Right. You should be able to work on your spell at the hotel. What comes next for me and Rule depends on what Romano tells us. Also on if we hear from Machek, or if Arjenie has learned more about that Hugo character you told me about. If she…shit, I forgot to turn my ringer back on.” She glanced at Rule as she reached in her purse. “Have you got someone who knows the city well, or should I supply someone like that? If we end up faking an exchange, that could be important.”

  “There’s Murray, but I don’t like to pull him away from Beth.” Rule considered briefly. “Tony Romano knows San Francisco. He’s lived here for…what is it?”

  She was frowning at her phone. “Beth called two more times, and there’s a text from her, too. She wants me to call. She put ‘urgent’ in all caps. It probably isn’t, but I’d better call.”

  Rule knew what she meant. Beth wasn’t the fashion-obsessed airhead she liked to impersonate, but Lily’s family had a blind spot about her job. They tended to think it was a great deal more interruptible than it was.

  Lily tapped the screen. Rule heard the phone ring, then: “Lily!”

  “Beth?” Lily said. “What did you—”

  “Thank God you called. He’s missing. The police don’t want to hear about it,” she said bitterly. “They gave me this bullshit about waiting forty-eight hours. They think he’s forgetful or drunk or just doesn’t want to see me, but Sean’s as dependable as sunrise. We had an appointment today at ten—a business appointment—but he wasn’t there, and that’s so not like him. And I can’t find anyone who’s seen him since our Bojuka class last night.”

  “Who are you talking about?”

  “Sean. I thought I said that. Sean’s missing. Sean Friar.”

  BETH’S tiny walk-up wasn’t far from Machek’s house geographically, but it was light-years away economically. The living room—which was also the dining room and kitchen—was colorful, cluttered, and cramped. After one glance inside, Rule had told Scott to wait in the hall. Lily wasn’t sure where the other guards were.

  By the time she shoved pillows aside to sit on the shabby but comfortable couch, Lily had counted five elephants, including the framed print she’d given Beth for Christmas this year. Beth loved elephants. The large, square coffee table was Beth’s contribution, too, though it hadn’t been painted neon pink back when it sat in their mother’s living room. The apartment smelled funny. Not pot, but some kind of incense, she thought.

  Rule sat beside her on the couch. Cullen parked his rear on the lone barstool that served as additional seating. Beth paced and talked, clutching her phone in one hand like a security blanket. Hoping he’d call, Lily thought. Hoping it was all a silly mistake. Not believing that, but not willing to put down the phone, either.

  “His bike and his car were there, so I checked the windows, but they were all locked. The ones on the ground floor, anyway. I couldn’t get to the upper story.” Beth whirled to face Lily. “What if he’s lying in there, too hurt to answer?” Tears sparkled in her eyes. “The stupid police won’t check!”

  She’d cut her hair again just before Christmas, so Lily had seen the current crop already, but the blue streak was new. The spikes were more due to distraction than to make a fashion statement. Beth kept running her hands through it. “They aren’t supposed to break into people’s homes unless the need is immediate and urgent. It’s a house, not an apartment?”

  “Yes. Does that matter?”

  “Sometimes an apartment manager will open a unit for the police without a warrant. Sean works from home, you said. Does he have a housekeeper?”

  “She only comes in twice a week. Today isn’t her day.”

  “And he doesn’t have any other employees.”

  “I told you I called Carly and John!”

  “You didn’t tell me they were his employees. What did they do when they came in to work and Sean wasn’t there?”

  “Oh. They didn’t. They’re contract, like me, though they’re more full-time than I am, but they still work from home. See, Sean designs a program’s basic architecture and handles the trickier parts—he’s brilliant, really—and they work on some of the components. He calls me in for the graphics, if they’re needed. That’s what we were to talk about today. I’ve roughed in some possibilities, and we were going to talk about them.”

  “I need their phone numbers and full names. Also the names and numbers of anyone else you called or can think of, his address, and the make and model of his car and bike.”

  “But his car and motorcycle are still there.”

  “Humor me.”

  The car was an older Lexus; Beth didn’t know the year, but thought it was at least ten years old. The motorcycle was newer, a black BMW with lots of chrome. Beth didn’t have a clue about the license numbers, but that would be easy to find. She sent Lily Carly’s and John’s contact information, as well as that of the other two people she’d called. She’d also called the hospitals, who hadn’t admitted to having a Sean Friar on their premises. Ditto for the morgue. “You said he referred to your appointment when you saw him last night.”

  “Yes, yes. ‘See you tomorrow,’ he said. Shouldn’t you be doing something?”

  “I am. Do you know if he’s seeing anyone?” Beth had insisted she and Sean were not a couple.

  “He’s not.”

  “You’re sure.”

  “We’re friends. He would have told me.”

  Lily didn’t doubt Beth believed that. “Do you have a picture of him?”

  “Sure.” Beth lifted her phone, touched the screen a few t
imes, and held it out. “This one’s pretty good.”

  It was a close-up of a forty-something man with sun-streaked hair and dark eyes. Caucasian, clean-shaven. His nose and his grin were both slightly crooked, lending an appealing asymmetry to otherwise regular features. Lily’s heart sank right down to the pit of her stomach, where it thudded around uncomfortably.

  Rule leaned in to look at the small screen. He and Lily exchanged a glance. There’d been a chance, however faint, that Beth’s Sean Friar wasn’t the one Lily had a file on. The photo took away that small hope. “Send it to me, okay?” she said, handing Beth back her phone.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m here on a case, so I can’t—no, wait, don’t explode. I’m taking you seriously, but I can’t drop everything and personally look for him. I’ll put someone on it.”

  Beth looked dubious. “You’ve got people you can put on things?”

  “Yeah.” Lily pulled out her own phone. “Local FBI, in this case. There’s a chance this is connected to, ah…a Unit matter. I’ll explain that in a minute.” She looked up the number, touched the call button, then glanced at Rule. “One of your people, maybe, for the house?”

  He nodded. “We do want to be sure he isn’t there and injured.”

  Or dead, but neither of them would mention that possibility in front of Beth.

  Cullen spoke for the first time since sitting down. “I’m good with locks.”

  Rule stood. “You’re too appealing a target. I’ll talk to Scott. He’ll know who else can handle the lock.”

  “I’m faster. Besides, there could be a connection.”

  “Target?” Beth said, looking between them. “What do you mean, he’s a target?”

  Meanwhile, Lily had identified herself and asked to speak to Special Agent Bergman. She’d already talked to the woman once today, on the flight in. That wasn’t the first time they’d spoken. It was Bergman’s office that’d run the original check on Sean Friar when Lily first crossed paths with his brother, Robert Friar.

  Bergman agreed to have someone look into Sean Friar’s apparent disappearance right away. Lily gave her Beth’s number and address verbally; the rest of the info could be sent electronically…in a minute. First she had to do something she dreaded.

  Rule stood at the door, talking to Scott. Cullen was still on his stool. Beth was standing bolt still, staring at Cullen.

  “What do you mean, someone wants to kidnap you?”

  “Or kill me,” Cullen said cheerfully. “We aren’t sure which, but taking me hostage seems more likely.”

  “But—but—” She spun to face Lily. “Someone wants to kidnap Cullen and someone already has kidnapped Sean, so—”

  “Whoa.” Lily held up both hands. “We don’t know what’s happened with your friend. It’s a huge jump from ‘I don’t know where he is’ to ‘he’s been kidnapped.’ ”

  “Did someone try to kidnap Cullen? Is that why you’re here?” She shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would you come here if someone tried to kidnap him back in San Diego?”

  “It’s connected to the case.” Lily felt the slow, dull throb of a headache begin. She rubbed her neck. “Beth, I need to tell you some things you won’t like hearing. There’s other stuff I won’t be able to tell you. You won’t like that, either.” She patted the couch. “Sit down and let’s talk.”

  Beth didn’t move. “Is this an I’ve-got-bad-news sit down?”

  “It’s an I-don’t-want-to-crane-my-neck-watching-you-pace sit down. Come on. Sit.”

  Beth scowled, took three steps, and dropped onto the couch. “So talk.”

  Lily took a deep breath. “Sean Friar is the brother of a very bad guy named Robert Friar.”

  Beth rolled her eyes. “Like I didn’t know that.”

  Lily couldn’t think of one thing to say.

  “Sean and I are friends. Maybe I’d like to be more, but the friend part is for real. Of course he’s told me about his brother. Half brother, really—same mother, different fathers. Robert was adopted by Sean’s father, who was Robert’s stepfather, which is how come they have the same last name.”

  “You knew. You knew, and you didn’t say a word to me.” Lily grabbed onto her temper and yanked it back. It was not good technique to yell at a witness…even when that witness was your own stupid, thinks-she’s-at-the-center-of-the-world little sister who…deep breath, she told herself. “What do you know about Robert Friar?” Beth had to know some of it. The news had been full of the story for a week.

  “You’re pissed.”

  “Yes. Yes, I am.”

  “I knew you’d react like this! I knew it! That’s why I didn’t tell you about Sean, because you’d leap to all kinds of conclusions before you even met him!”

  Lily leaned forward. “Did you stop to think for even one moment that this might be about more than your feelings? That maybe, just maybe, I might have more on my mind where Friar is concerned than interfering in your—oh, but it isn’t a romance, is it? Your friendship with the brother of a man who tried to kill thousands, including Toby, and—”

  A warm hand landed on her shoulder. “Lily.” Rule squeezed gently. “May I take this for now?”

  Sure. Yes. Because if she said another word, she was going to speak it while shaking Beth so hard whatever passed for brains in her sister’s head spilled out.

  Rule took her silence for assent. “Beth, Robert Friar is the man who took me and Cullen and several others captive. He attempted to set explosives off at Clanhome, which would have killed Toby and many others in my clan.”

  Beth nodded seriously. “I heard about all that, of course—on the TV, since Lily refused to discuss it, but it was all over the news. Friar was with that elf, right? I can’t think of the elf guy’s name, but they were killed when the elf did some kind of big magic and brought the mountain down on them. You and Lily and Cullen escaped in the nick of time with—was it Benedict?”

  “And a few others, yes.”

  “That’s horrible, it’s really, deeply horrible, but”—she gave Lily a dirty look—“it had nothing to do with Sean.”

  “It wouldn’t, perhaps,” Rule said, “except that we don’t think Robert Friar died.”

  “What? But that—the news said—Sean thinks his brother is dead!” She bounced to her feet to glare at Lily. “You let him think his brother was dead!”

  Lily kept her voice steady. “We have no concrete evidence that he survived, but no body was found, and we do know…have you heard of patterning?”

  Beth shook her head impatiently. “I haven’t, and what does that have to do with Sean?”

  “Patterning is the ability to manipulate possibilities. It’s a rare Gift and usually shows up in its weak form, but it’s known in some circles as the Gift of the gods. A really strong patterner can make even highly unlikely events occur—such as surviving the collapse of a mountain.”

  Beth followed her meaning well enough. “Except that Sean’s brother wasn’t Gifted.”

  “He didn’t start out that way, but Robert Friar is now a listener and a patterner. He received his second Gift just before the node imploded and brought down the cave system.”

  “No one can give someone else a Gift.”

  “Old Ones do the damnedest things,” Lily said dryly.

  Beth opened her mouth. Closed it. After a moment she said quietly, “I think I need to hear a lot more than I have about what happened.”

  “I think maybe you do.” Lily looked at Rule, a frown pleating her forehead. “I know you don’t like to split up.”

  “I don’t, no. Tony can wait a little longer. You’re worried about leaving your sister alone.” He raised one brow slightly.

  She knew what he was asking. And he was right, dammit. She couldn’t make any sense of Sean Friar’s apparent disappearance, but just because she couldn’t see what Friar was up to didn’t mean he wasn’t knee-deep in whatever was happening here. He had to be. Her sister hadn’t just ha
ppened to meet Friar’s brother, not without a push from someone who could manipulate possibilities.

  Of course, Beth wasn’t entirely alone and hadn’t been since she moved here. The time had come for her to meet Murray and the others who’d been watching over her. Guarding her from a distance wasn’t a good option anymore.

  Lily sighed, sure she knew how her sister was going to take that news.

  TWENTY-ONE

  “THAT didn’t go well,” she said, clicking her seat belt in place.

  “It could have been worse.”

  “I suppose.” It had helped some that it was so abundantly obvious that the guards Rule had assigned to Beth hadn’t been spying on her, reporting on her. If they had, Rule would have known about Sean Friar months ago.

  Rule squeezed her hand. “At least she’s letting Murray stay in the apartment with her for now.”

  “Not because she sees the need. Murray gave her puppy dog eyes, and she caved.” Lily hadn’t met Murray before, so he’d been almost as much of a surprise to her as he was to Beth, though for different reasons. She had this theory that lupi were genetically incapable of ugly. It made sense—the continuation of their species depended on them charming, seducing, and otherwise trying to impregnate as many women as possible.

  Murray turned out to be the exception. Sort of. He was short and squat and looked like he’d grabbed his features at random from the bargain bin, yet somehow he was five feet, five inches of adorable. Maybe it was the so-ugly-they’re-cute deal some creatures had going, like that breed of dog that seemed to be made entirely out of wrinkles.

  “Whatever works.”

  “I guess.” Bergman’s agent had arrived just as they were leaving—Richard Snow, a studious-looking fellow with a competent manner. Cullen was already gone by then; he’d left with Marcus and Steve to check out Sean Friar’s house. Well, Marcus would check out the house. Cullen would let Marcus in, then wait outside with Steve, who would be keeping an eye out for trouble.

  Lily drummed her fingers on her thigh. Nothing was adding up. Rule’s brother’s partner was missing, held hostage. Friar seemed to be involved. Lily’s sister’s not-a-boyfriend—who was also Friar’s brother—was missing. Fate unknown.