by Anne Bishop
“I’ll talk to Ruthie,” Kowalski said. “It’s a decision we need to make together.”
As mates should.
Kowalski’s mobile phone rang. A brief call. “Captain Burke wants to see me.”
Simon pulled the door open but Kowalski hesitated.
“Thank you. It means a lot that you would do this for us.” Kowalski went inside and headed for HGR’s back door.
Simon returned to the checkout counter and continued filling orders.
He’d said the words. Hopefully he hadn’t made a mistake that would threaten everyone in the Courtyard.
CHAPTER 16
Firesday, Maius 11
Meg sat at the top of the stairs leading to her apartment, a book beside her. Her porch provided shelter in bad weather and shade when it was sunny. It had latticework for privacy. What it didn’t have was anyplace to sit.
Some of the apartments in the Green Complex had porches; others didn’t. None of the other porches had the privacy latticework. They also didn’t have furniture. Too early in the season? Or didn’t Hawks, Owls, and Crows bother with furniture since the porch railing was a sufficient perch?
Tomorrow she would look through the ads in the Lakeside News to get an idea of what people might buy for outdoor furniture. This evening . . .
“Want to take a walk?”
She looked at Simon standing at the bottom of the stairs.
“Okay,” she said. “Aren’t you going to shift first?”
“No.”
Not the answer she expected. Simon usually shifted to Wolf as soon as he got home, relieved to be out of the human skin.
Taking the book inside, she exchanged the soft house shoes for sneakers. A walk with Simon could mean anything from an amble to a muscle-burning pace, and just because he started out in human form didn’t mean he wouldn’t be trotting along on four legs by the time it was finished.
She closed her front door, then joined Simon.
“You need to read this first.” He unfolded a piece of paper and handed it to her.
Haven’t we all faced enough today? she thought as she refolded the paper and handed it back to him.
She started walking, needing a distraction from the prickling around her shoulder blades. Simon fell into step beside her, saying nothing for several minutes.
Plenty of Courtyard residents out and about. Many saw them and hesitated, but no one approached.
“I remember her,” Meg finally said. “I remember cs821. She was younger than me. I can’t tell you her age, but she got her first scar last year or the year before, so the doctor’s guess sounds right.”
“She said she wants to live. Jackson isn’t sure she will. What can he do? What would help you if you were in her place?”
“They took away the silver razor?”
“Probably.”
“Return it to her. Return the razors to the girls who had them.”
“They’ll cut themselves.”
“They’ll cut anyway.” She kept walking, kept moving. “So many things will cut skin, but those razors were designed for it.”
“She doesn’t want to die.”
“Neither do I.” Meg stopped and looked at Simon. He couldn’t quite pass for human anymore. “Neither do I, but I want to be the one who makes the choice.”
He started walking, a fast pace, as if he wanted to run away from the words.
She ran to catch up to him, then had to run every few steps to keep up with him.
“Simon . . . ,” she panted.
He slowed but didn’t stop.
The terra indigene had agreed that it was her choice, but they didn’t like the cutting. To them, fresh blood meant a wound, and in the wild country, a wound could be fatal. Add in the fact that cassandra sangue blood acted like a drug, and she understood why the Others weren’t easy about her cutting. Being thrust in the position of taking care of a girl they didn’t know—and who didn’t know them—would make everything harder for all of them.
“Tell Jackson to give her a room that contains as little as possible. Give her time to rest.” Meg thought about the girl called cs821. “Maybe leave one thing that has colors. She liked colors. She would describe training images first by their color and then by their shape.”
“I’ll tell him.”
They returned to the Green Complex in silence. Simon hurried into his own apartment and came out again a minute later. He shook out his fur and ran off, needing something she couldn’t give.
Sighing, Meg looked up at her apartment. She felt exhausted and restless, hungry and too listless to bother with food.
“Have you eaten?” asked a voice in the shadows beneath her stairs. Vlad stepped into the fading light, his form still shifting from smoke to human. “We picked up a couple of pizzas from Hot Crust. Tess made a salad. We’re gathering in the social room to watch movies.”
“Which movies?” Meg asked.
“Does it matter?”
She preferred being able to hide behind Simon during a movie’s scary bits—and most terra indigene movies had scary bits. “I guess not.”
“Then join us.” Vlad smiled. “I’ll tell Simon where to find you when he finishes his run.” He studied her. “Or I can bring you some food if you’d prefer to be alone.”
Did she want to be alone? Did she need to be alone?
“I’ll join you for the first movie,” Meg said.
His smiled widened, showing a bit of fang. “Come on, then. Let’s get the pizza while it’s still warm.”
As she and Vlad walked to the side of the Green Complex that held the mail room, laundry room, and social room, Meg heard a wolf howling. She thought he sounded lonely.
* * *
The efficiency apartments had shower stalls instead of bathtubs. After many assurances that he would be able to cope with her hair if she got it wet—and equal insistence on Lizzy’s part that she could wash herself and would be careful on the slippy floor—Monty left his little girl to shower by herself. While he listened for any sign of distress or, gods forbid, a slip and injury, he unpacked her suitcase, hanging up a few things in the closet and putting the rest in half the drawers in the dresser.
A temporary arrangement until they had more information about what happened to Elayne. A practical choice, since, as Kowalski pointed out, the Courtyard was closer to the Chestnut Street station than Monty’s apartment, and it was a safe haven for his little girl, because who would think to look for her here?
Monty picked up Lizzy’s folded pajamas and felt something the size of a small book. Unfolding the pajamas, he stared at the pink diary sprinkled with gold stars. It had a latch and a tiny keyhole. He tried the latch, confirming that the diary was locked. A quick feel through the suitcase didn’t turn up a key.
He rubbed his thumb over the stars. A diary? What would a seven-year-old write about? School? Friends? Please, gods, no confessions about a crush on a boy. Not yet.
Before he could wonder too much about the contents, Lizzy yelled, “Daddy! Make the water turn off!”
Monty stuffed the diary in the drawer with Lizzy’s underwear and hurried to make the water turn off.
CHAPTER 17
Watersday, Maius 12
At seven a.m., Douglas Burke gave the phone his typical fierce-friendly smile and waited until the third ring before picking up.
“Chestnut Street station, Captain Burke speaking.”
“Captain,” Vladimir Sanguinati said smoothly. “Do you have a minute to talk?”
“Of course.”
It was a disappointment, but not a surprise, that the Sanguinati had gotten back to him before the Toland police called to inquire about a missing child.
There were a few reasons why Elayne Borden had sent her child to Lakeside, allowing the girl to travel several hundred miles alone. According to the verbal r
eport he’d received from Officer Kowalski, Lizzy had said her mother was hurt in the belly. Acute intestinal distress could account for Elayne looking hurt or being in pain. It could also account for her decision to send the child to Monty while she sought medical help—especially if she was in enough pain that she wasn’t thinking clearly. Or, considering what had been found in the stuffed bear, maybe she was thinking clearly and realized she couldn’t trust anyone but Monty where Lizzy was concerned.
Or she could have put the child on a train without a backward glance so that she could go off with her new, socially prominent lover unencumbered.
He didn’t think Elayne was that cold or callous where Lizzy was concerned, or that any of his speculations were accurate, but they were arguments he could make if anyone asked why he hadn’t called the Toland police after Lizzy arrived in Lakeside.
Had Monty called anyone in Elayne’s family yet? He didn’t think so, but he would check.
“Did your kinsmen hear anything on the news about a woman being injured or taken ill at the train station yesterday?” Burke asked. The Wolves had talked about dried blood on Lizzy’s bear, but the truth was, the patch of fur that had brushed against some blood was so small, the blood could have come from a fresh cut on someone’s hand, a moment’s jostle while people were boarding the train. A human would have overlooked it. Humans had overlooked it. If that hadn’t been the case, a conductor or someone on the train would have questioned the child about a bloody bear and the absence of an adult.
A hesitation. Then Vlad said, “Stavros considers it part of his work for the Toland Courtyard to read the human newspaper and listen to the news. There was a report yesterday evening about a woman being stabbed at the Toland train station. Dead at the scene. Police investigating. Name withheld until next of kin are notified. When I spoke with him, he hadn’t listened to the morning news, so I don’t know if they’ve named the woman yet.”
“So the police are investigating a suspicious death.”
Lizzy had been on the early westbound train. Next of kin would have been notified well before the evening news aired. If the dead woman and Elayne were one and the same, then someone had known Elayne was dead . . . and hadn’t called the father of her child.
Hadn’t even noticed Lizzy was missing?
Another, longer hesitation before Vlad said, “Train stations are a good hunting ground.”
Burke sat up straight. “Are you saying one of the Sanguinati killed Elayne Borden?”
“No. I’m saying that the Sanguinati are often at train stations, especially stations in larger cities like Toland because so many trains come in and go out, and there is usually an abundance of prey. But the stations also provide a way to study humans. The Sanguinati observe as well as hunt. They weren’t in that part of the Toland station when it happened, so they didn’t see the attack, and they didn’t see the Lizzy get on a train. They became curious about all the activity once the police arrived—and then they listened.”
Great. Were Sanguinati usually in the crowds around a crime scene, drawn by the commotion and the cluster of humans who would make easy prey? Something to think about. Later. “What did they hear?”
“The restroom where the woman was found had an Out of Order sign on the door. The maintenance staff at the station insisted that the sign had been on the men’s restroom door, not the women’s. It was unclear if the woman moved the sign in an attempt to hide or if her attacker moved it to delay anyone finding her. The woman was wearing a small gold key on a long thin chain hidden under her shirt. It was speculated that the key opened the lock on a jewelry box, but the woman’s suitcase wasn’t opened at the station, so the Sanguinati couldn’t say if the box was found.”
Burke scribbled notes. “Anything else?”
“The woman had two tickets for a commuter train going to Hubb NE. She was found shortly before that train left the station, so police searched for her companion among the passengers boarding it but didn’t locate anyone who knew the woman.”
Burke thought for a moment. Had Elayne purchased a second set of tickets to give herself another escape route? Or had one set been a diversion? If Lizzy had both tickets for Lakeside, that could explain why no one had questioned the absence of an adult. Mommy was in the bathroom. Here was her ticket.
Mommy had been in the bathroom. Just not the bathroom on the train.
“Thank you for the information,” Burke began.
“Captain?” Vlad’s voice, which had been conversational up to that point, suddenly chilled. “Has anyone called you or Lieutenant Montgomery to ask about the child?”
Burke felt his heart thump heavy against his chest. “No,” he said, swallowing a sour taste he recognized as fear. “No one has called to ask about the child.”
“That’s what we thought.” Vlad hung up.
Gods above and below, he thought, noticing how his hand trembled as he returned the receiver to its cradle. It was one thing for him to condemn that disregard for the child’s welfare. It was quite another to wonder how the Sanguinati viewed that disregard.
Considering how the terra indigene had reacted to the deaths of cassandra sangue babies, he didn’t think the Others were going to allow humans to make all the decisions where Montgomery’s little girl was concerned.
Burke slumped in his chair but straightened again a moment later when Louis Gresh tapped on his doorway. Waving the bomb squad commander in, he said, “Come in and close the door.” He studied Louis and added, “Aren’t you off duty today?”
“I was supposed to be, but with Monty being off I thought you could use an extra hand.” Louis shrugged. “Did you hear from the Toland police?”
“Nothing from the police yet, but I did hear from the Sanguinati. I called Vlad last night and asked him to make some inquiries with his Toland kinsmen.” Burke blew out a breath. “A woman was attacked and killed yesterday morning at the train station. I’m guessing it was Elayne Borden.”
“Gods,” Louis breathed. “Does Monty know?”
“Not yet.” Burke sat back and folded his hands over his trim belly. “You have children.”
“A boy and a girl. Both teenagers, may the gods help me.”
“It’s a seven-hour trip from Toland to Lakeside. The attack happened early in the morning. Police are called in, crime scene investigators begin their work, and someone contacts next of kin. If you were informed of the death of a family member, a single mother, what would you say after you got past the initial shock?”
“‘Where’s the child?’” Louis rubbed his chin. “Assuming the girl wasn’t staying with me or her location was already known.”
“Exactly. The woman is dead under suspicious circumstances. Her child is missing, and both the relatives and the police know that well before the train reaches the Lakeside station. And yet no one called Lieutenant Montgomery to ask if Lizzy somehow got on a train to Lakeside. No one called to see if she was with her father, if she was safe. Twenty-four hours have passed, and no one has called looking for the child.”
Louis eased himself into the visitor’s chair. “Monty turned off his mobile phone and he’s not in his own apartment. Someone could have tried to reach him.”
“He’s a cop,” Burke said quietly. “If you call the station and tell anyone that something happened to his daughter and he needs to be found, you can be damn well sure we will find him whether his phone is turned on or not.”
“True enough.” Louis sighed. “But if they haven’t been looking for the girl, what have they been looking for?”
A jewelry box that goes with a small gold key? A fortune in jewels that someone hid inside a stuffed bear?
“I’ve answered a couple of calls on Monty’s office phone this morning,” Louis said. “A man’s voice. Wouldn’t leave his name. Wouldn’t leave a number. Said he needed to make a delivery and wanted to be sure Monty would be home today. When I
asked for the name of the store making the delivery, he hung up. The second time he called, he must have recognized my voice as fast as I recognized his because he hung up before making his spiel. Officer Kowalski is here, so I asked him to man Monty’s phone. It could be one of Ms. Borden’s relatives.”
Or it could be the man who needs to find a bag of jewels, Burke thought.
A one-two rap on the door before it opened partway and Kowalski leaned into the office.
“Pardon the intrusion, Captain, but there’s a Captain Felix Scaffoldon from the Toland police calling for Lieutenant Montgomery. He says he’s from the Crime Investigation Unit. He’s holding on line two.”
“This should be interesting.” Burke wagged a finger at Kowalski to indicate the officer should come in. Then he picked up the phone. “This is Captain Douglas Burke.”
A pause before a too-hearty voice said, “Guess your man on the desk hasn’t had enough coffee yet. I asked for Crispin James Montgomery.”
“Lieutenant Montgomery is taking a couple of days’ personal leave. I’m his commanding officer. What can I do for you?”
“It’s important that I talk to him. Could you give me his home and mobile phone numbers?”
“Talk to him about what?”
“It’s private.”
“Then give me your number, and I’ll give him the message when he calls in.”
“You said he’s taking personal time.”
“He is. But he’s a diligent officer, so he’ll call in.” Tucking the phone between shoulder and ear, Burke tore off a sheet of paper from a pad and wrote Call Pete. Custody. ASAP. He handed the paper to Kowalski, who looked at it and hurried out of the room.
Burke could feel the hostility coming through the phone line.
“Look,” Scaffoldon said. “I need to verify Montgomery’s whereabouts for the past forty-eight hours.”
He waited a beat. “Why?”
“Damn it, Burke!” Heavy breathing before Scaffoldon continued with more control. “He’s a person of interest in the suspicious death of Elayne Borden.”