Defender (The Witches of Cleopatra Hill Book 11)

by Christine Pope

  Tucson? Something connected to the case? Either way, she’d be happy to talk to him. Probably a little too happy, if she was going to be honest with herself. “Of course,” she said. “Actually, though, I’m at my parents’ house in Tempe. Some reporters came around this morning, pestering me, and so I thought it would be better to get out of my apartment for a while.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. However, it is probably better that you’re with your parents. I’m about” — a pause while he apparently paused to calculate the distance — “twenty-five minutes out from where you are. Can you give me the address?”

  “Fifty-two La Rosa Drive,” Kate replied.

  “Got it. I’ll be there shortly.”

  “Thanks, detective.”

  He hung up, leaving Kate to stand there and stare down at the phone in her hand. Her stupid heart wouldn’t stop its excited beating, which was ridiculous. All Jack Sandoval wanted to do was discuss the case with her, and she just happened to be conveniently on the way back to his office, so he could stop and talk to her here rather than all the way up in Scottsdale.

  All very logical.

  Even so, she took her purse with her into the bathroom so she could smooth her hair and make sure her lip gloss didn’t need to be reapplied. She told herself the primping was only so the detective wouldn’t look at her and see a frazzled mess, but she knew better.

  You really need to reexamine your priorities, woman, she scolded herself as she went downstairs, purse dangling from one hand.

  Lynda was in the kitchen, putting together a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches. She must have intercepted her daughter’s sideways glance at the meal prep, because she said, her tone somewhat defensive, “You don’t have to eat it right now. I can wrap it up and put it in the fridge in case you get hungry later.”

  The battle wasn’t worth fighting. Kate said, “Sure, Mom. Um, I just got off the phone with Detective Sandoval. He’s on his way back to Scottsdale and wants to stop here and talk to me.”

  Her mother’s eyebrows lifted. “‘Back to Scottsdale’?”

  “I guess he was down in Tucson. He didn’t say why. Anyway, he should be here in about twenty minutes.”

  “Should I make him a sandwich?”

  “Um, no, I don’t think that’s necessary. This is an official call.”

  Lynda appeared somewhat deflated by that response. She never seemed to know quite what to do with herself if she wasn’t bustling around, being the perfect hostess.

  Before her mother could offer to make lemonade, or dream up some other refreshment for the visiting detective, Kate said, “I’ll go wait for him in the living room. But go ahead and have your sandwich, Mom. I don’t want to keep you from having your own lunch.”

  “I can wait.”

  “Really, you don’t need to. I’m not hungry yet, and I don’t know how long this is going to take.” Deciding it was better to leave matters there, Kate offered her mother a smile and then went to take up her post in the living room, where she could sit on the couch and have a clear view of the detective as he came up the front walk. True, he wouldn’t be here for another twenty minutes or so, but she could take that time to check her phone, to log in remotely to her work email and see if there was anything critical she’d missed. Yes, she was supposed to be out sick, but it never hurt to stay on top of things.

  However, there weren’t any dumpster fires waiting for her in her work inbox, and her own email account was suspiciously quiet. Maybe the local news agencies hadn’t yet tracked down her email address or phone number, but she assumed it was only a matter of time before they ferreted out that information. She did have a ton of private messages on Facebook, all from friends wanting to know about Jeff, wanting to know what had happened. There was no way in hell she was going to answer all of those — and she had a feeling that Sam would help out when she got off work, quietly disseminating information on her own so the burden wouldn’t fall to Kate — but she decided that posting a public status might keep some people off her back for a while.

  Yes, it’s true about Jeff. I don’t know very much right now, any more than the rest of you do, so I don’t have a lot to say yet. This is a very difficult time for me, so I’m asking everyone to respect my wishes and give me a chance to process what’s happened.

  She turned off comments for the post, because the last thing she wanted was to have everyone gossiping and speculating in the very place where she’d asked for a little space, a little privacy.

  When she looked up from her phone, it was to see a black Jeep Wrangler with a hard top parking at the curb in front of the house. A moment later, Jack Sandoval got out and began to head up the walkway that cut through the property’s rather improbable front lawn, conspicuously green in a land that should have been desert. He wore a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and dark khakis, and right then Kate thought he might possibly be the best-looking man she’d ever seen.

  Just stop it, she told herself as she set down her phone and got up from the couch. You’re being utterly ridiculous. Okay, I can see why you might want to distract yourself from what happened to Jeff, but crushing on a cop is a damn stupid way to do it.

  She let him ring the doorbell before she answered the door, just because she didn’t want him to know that she’d been sitting there, watching him come up the front walk. “Detective Sandoval,” she said, praying to God she sounded calm and unruffled, and not at all like someone who’d just been ogling the hell out of him.

  “Jack, please,” he said with a smile, his white teeth flashing in contrast to his warm-toned skin.

  “Come on in…Jack.” She moved out of the way so he could enter the living room, which, because this was her mother’s house, existed in a state of spotless perfection not often seen outside a model home. “Can I get you something? Water, iced tea?”

  “I’m fine, thanks.” A pause as he sent a quick glance around the room, accompanied by just the faintest of head tilts, as if he listened to see if anyone else was around.

  “My mother’s in the kitchen,” Kate said, trying to keep her voice pitched low enough that it wouldn’t be overheard, but not so low that Jack might think there was something strange about her need to keep things private.

  “Ah. I’d rather speak to you about these matters alone, if that’s possible.”

  “We could go out in the backyard — ”

  Even as he appeared to consider that proposition, Kate’s phone rang. She murmured an apology and bent to pick it up, then brightened a little as she saw the incoming call was from the Scottsdale police department.

  “Ms. Campbell?”

  “Yes, I’m Kate Campbell.”

  “Your car is ready to be picked up. You can get it from the impound yard.”

  “‘Impound’?” she repeated. “What, I have to pay to get it out of hock?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry, that’s just policy,” the woman on the other end of the line said. “If you get it before six, then you won’t have to pay any fees for housing it overnight. The address is 215 85th Place. Have a nice day.”

  The call ended, and Kate took the phone away from her ear and shook her head, directing her next words to the detective standing a few feet away. “So you took my car, but I have to pay to get it back?”

  To Jack’s credit, he did look slightly embarrassed. “That’s how it works. But I can probably get them to waive the fees. In fact, this is the perfect chance for us to talk in private. How about I drive you up to get your car, and I try to get things straightened out for you?”

  That sounded just about perfect to Kate. She could be in the car with him, far away from any chance of her mother trying to eavesdrop. And then she’d have her own vehicle back. She hadn’t realized how off-putting it would be to be deprived of her car, but the Jetta had always been a symbol of autonomy for her, and she needed to have it returned.

  “That sounds great,” she replied. “Let me just tell my mother I’m going, and then we can head out.”

>   “Sure.” Another of those smiles. Did he have any idea how devastating they were?

  Kate decided it probably wasn’t a good idea to dwell on that question for very long. Instead, she hurried into the kitchen, where her mother had finished with her sandwich prep and now sat at the table in the nook, having her own lunch. “Mom, the Scottsdale P.D. just let me know I can pick up my car. Detective Sandoval offered to drive me, since he’s headed back there anyway. So I’ll be out for a little while.”

  Her mother frowned slightly. “Are you sure that’s all right with him? You don’t want to cause him any extra trouble — ”

  “He offered. It’s fine.” Kate gave Lynda a reassuring smile and added, “It shouldn’t take that long. I’ll be back in an hour and a half at the most.”

  “You’re all right with driving alone? You’re sure you don’t want me to come along?”

  That was the very last thing Kate wanted, but she knew she needed to keep that particular thought to herself. “It’s just a short hop to get back here. I doubt the reporters have tracked me down yet. You won’t even notice I’m gone.” She bent and gave her mother a quick kiss on the cheek, then hurried out of the kitchen before Lynda could offer any further protests.

  Jack was waiting by the door, keys dangling from one hand. “All ready?”

  “Yep, good to go.” She picked up her purse from where she’d set it on the floor. “Lead on.”

  He let himself out and Kate followed, turning the bottom lock so it would be somewhat secure, even though she didn’t have a key for the deadbolt. A warm wind caught in her hair, and she thought for a second how nice it would be if they were just headed out for a simple drive, maybe going for a drink.

  Once again she scolded herself for being an inappropriate idiot, even as Jack unlocked the Jeep and opened the passenger-side door so she could climb inside. He went around the front of the vehicle and slid in behind the wheel, then started up the engine and pulled away from the curb.

  For a long moment, neither one of them said anything. Kate began to wonder if she should mention picking up her own car, the weather, anything to break the silence, but then Jack Sandoval spoke.

  “I didn’t have a chance to talk to you about this last night, for obvious reasons, but when you mentioned that your brother lived in Jerome, and when I saw his name, I realized he must be connected to the McAllisters.”

  Kate froze. She didn’t dare look over at Jack, because she knew he’d be able to see the shock that had just registered on her features. Why the hell would a detective with the Scottsdale police department know anything about the McAllister witches?

  “It’s all right,” he went on quickly, obviously noting her unnerved state. “I’m not out to expose them or anything. How could I? I’m part of the de la Paz clan.”

  A startled breath escaped her lips. “You mean you’re — ?”

  “A warlock, yes.”

  “But…you’re a policeman.”

  He chuckled. “Yes. The people in my family don’t have quite the same bohemian lifestyle as the McAllisters. We have doctors and lawyers and teachers and insurance adjusters…and cops. All of us doing our best to blend in.”

  A thousand chaotic thoughts whirled in Kate’s mind. She wouldn’t have to worry about hiding anything that involved her sister-in-law or her family, wouldn’t have to worry about something inadvertently slipping out during a moment of stress. And this man, this gorgeous hunk of detective, wasn’t some ordinary guy, but a warlock, someone born with powers she still didn’t quite understand.

  “So…what’s your talent?”

  His smile faded. “Defensive magic.”

  “Oh.” Did she dare ask what that entailed? It did sound like a good talent for a police officer to have. And it sounded especially good for her to have someone with that particular power close to her. “Is that why you took this case?”

  “No,” he replied. “I was assigned to it. I didn’t realize who you were until I saw the texts from your brother. Then I put two and two together. But this crime — it worries me. You saw what was painted on the walls.”

  She swallowed. “Yes.”

  “I recognized a few of the symbols. Not all. That’s what I was doing down in Tucson today. I needed to talk to someone who’s an expert in these things.”

  “What things?” Kate asked, even though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer. That horrific crime scene had terrified her enough. To discover the purpose behind those arcane symbols? It had to be something dark and terrible, something she didn’t want to understand.

  “Spells of summoning. Summoning demons.”

  Right then she was very glad she hadn’t eaten anything at her mother’s house, because Kate was fairly certain she would have been sick. Since her stomach was empty, all it could do was lurch and make her faintly queasy. “Summoning demons? Seriously?”

  Even in profile, she could see the grim set of his jaw. “Oh, yes. Demons are real. Or rather, the entities that we think of as demons are real. They come from outside this world and can wield terrible powers.”

  “But…why would someone do something like that? And to Jeff, of all people? I mean, he was a district manager at a logistics company. He’s not exactly the sort of person who should be the victim of a vicious murderer.”

  “That’s just it,” Jack replied. “I’m not sure his was a random murder. There’s your connection to the McAllisters. A while back, the prima of that clan — ”

  “Angela,” Kate supplied, just so Jack would know that she wasn’t completely clueless when it came to the McAllister clan. She knew who Angela and Connor were, knew that their being together had caused a lot of changes in both the prima’s clan and the Wilcoxes, Connor’s family.

  “Right. Well, two years ago, some pretty nasty warlocks from the Southern California clan, the Santiagos, came here to Arizona and stirred up a lot of trouble.”

  “I know. They murdered Jenny’s sister.” How awful it felt to say such a thing so matter-of-factly. Yes, of course Kate had never known Roslyn, because she’d died before Colin and Jenny even met, but such tragedies left an indelible mark on all those involved. Jenny seemed happy enough now, especially with the baby on the way, but during the times they’d all been together, Kate couldn’t help noticing the sadness in her sister-in-law’s eyes, the way she’d sometimes look as if she wanted to cry before she visibly pulled herself together and pretended that nothing was wrong.

  “And in consequence, Angela and Connor stripped the powers from the three warlocks involved. It was their right, but the Santiagos weren’t happy about the way the matter was handled. So I can’t help wondering whether they’re attempting somehow to get their revenge on the McAllisters by striking out at civilians who are connected to them, easy targets who can’t possibly fight back.”

  Maybe it was the cold air blowing from the Jeep’s vents that made her whole body go chill, but Kate didn’t think so. She tried to sound calm, though, as she asked, “Does that mean I’m the next target?”

  This time he did glance over at her, worry clear in his face. “I don’t know. There’s a lot here I don’t know yet. But this is why I wanted to talk to you in private. I can’t go mentioning demons and spells of summoning around the other people in my department who’re involved in the investigation, or they’ll send me off to the rubber room. Sure, they’ll have to acknowledge the occult nature of the symbols painted on the walls of Jeff Nichols’ condo, because that’s the sort of thing you can find on the Internet with a little digging. But they’ll pass it off as coming from a murderer who dabbles in Satanism, or is obsessed with the occult. They won’t think it’s real.”

  “But it is.”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  Kate clutched the strap of her purse and told herself she needed to stay calm, that she couldn’t freak out. But how could she not freak out, when Jeff was dead, when Jack Sandoval was sitting there and talking about demons, of all things. Demons and spells and God knows wha
t else. When she spoke, her voice sounded very small. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Well, for one thing, you need to know that I’ll be looking out for you. I’m still trying to figure out who we’re up against, but while I may not have faced down demons before, I have apprehended some pretty bad people, including Matías Escobar, Roslyn’s murderer. It’s also good that you’ve gone to stay with your parents.”

  Kate managed a tired smile. “What, is my mother a demon hunter who’s been hiding her true identity?”

  This time Jack chuckled, even as he shook his head. “No, she’s just a regular mortal. But it’s good that you’re not alone in your apartment, that you’re someplace where the murderer doesn’t know to find you.”

  Was that even true, though? She knew that Jeff had her new address lying around his condo, because of course she’d had to give it to him after they’d separated — he’d sent her a few packets of letters and bills until she could get her mailing address updated with her bank and the student loan company, among other things. But did he have her parents’ address down in Tempe? He knew where they lived, but she’d taken her address book with her; she was always the one who sent birthday cards and Christmas cards and kept up with the family stuff.

  And did any of the normal ways of getting that sort of information even matter when you were talking about witches and warlocks and demons? Couldn’t they just look in a crystal ball or something? It was really nerve-wracking when you didn’t even know how any of this worked.

  “If you say so,” she said, her tone openly skeptical.

  “I do. And beyond that, I’m going to stay with you as you get your car, and then I’m going to follow you back down to your parents’ house. I’ll make sure you get inside safely. And I’ll draw my own signs of protection on the doorways so nothing can get in.”

  “Hopefully not with blood,” Kate remarked, part of her glad of the offer, the other part not sure that the help he wanted to give would do anything at all. “My mother might have a few things to say about that.”

  He didn’t smile. “Only those who follow the left-hand path use blood. No, just spring water and rock salt. Your mother won’t even know I’ve done it.”