Veronica shook her head. “I have to do something, Khalilah. Lola is not doing well.”
“Neither is Amani,” Khalilah said.
Veronica snorted. “Like you said. We both want to help them and neither of us can do anything for either of them.”
“Come on, I’ll drive you home,” Khalilah said.
Veronica’s shoulders slumped. What else could she do? All she could hope for now was that the guard would deliver her note to Lola, and it would be enough to keep her going until Veronica found a way to prove her innocence.
Chapter 20
The first thing she noticed was the speed of her heartbeat. Then she looked around and saw that she was in some sort of storage area, maybe a warehouse. She stepped as quietly as she could down a row of shelves. No lights were on, and she could hardly read the labels of the things on the shelves, but she made out enough to see that they were cardboard boxes of foods. Some of the boxes had Arabic lettering on them
The space seemed too tight for a warehouse—the ceiling too low, and the aisles of boxes too narrow. The stockroom of a grocery store, perhaps?
She held something behind her, but she couldn’t tell what it was—just that the muscles of her arm were tense but her grip seemed relaxed by comparison. Turning the corner at the end of the aisle, she then jumped back again, flattening herself against the shelf. What she saw beyond the aisle made a clear imprint on her mind. Two people sitting on the floor against the far wall, their heads down. They both had shoulder-length, dark hair which hung loose. Women, most likely.
Easing around the edge of the shelf, she lowered herself as she moved, squinting through the darkness. One woman shifted, her hair falling to the side enough for Veronica to recognize her.
Yesenia Saleh. She and the other woman sat on the floor, arms behind them, legs awkwardly folded half under them. Yesenia stared at Veronica, her eyes widening. Then, as the other woman seemed to sense Yesenia’s intense focus, she lifted her face. Khalilah.
Just as Veronica recognized her, a man swung around from the next aisle down and thrust his fist forward.
The piercing pain she had felt in Amani’s apartment cut into her now, and Veronica cried out, clutching at the man’s wrist as her legs gave way beneath her.
~~~
Veronica lurched in her covers, folding into a fetal position, grasping at her stomach. As the real world came into focus, she sobbed with relief. She was unhurt. Her stomach felt normal, the soft fabric of her nightgown flat across it. She cried into her pillow, moaning, relief giving way again to fear and horror. Was that her future? Had she seen what was going to happen to her?
Her face contorted around the sobs. Why is this happening to me? she thought. All I want to do is help the people I’m supposed to help. And now I’m going to get killed?
And Yesenia and Khalilah—sitting on the floor, hanging their heads—surely they were prisoners. It must be at the grocery store that Ghattas and Hamza were buying together, in the back. But had they been captured yet?
Daniel warned me, Veronica thought. He said I was in over my head—that I’d get hurt if I kept this up. And now—now it turns out he was right all along.
Her crying had subsided, she realized, and she sat up in bed, using her top sheet to wipe her eyes. She had to warn Khalilah and Yesenia. She had Khalilah’s number, and maybe Yesenia’s would be listed.
Veronica groped for the light and then found her phone on her bedside table. The clock read 11:04. Well. At least it wasn’t 3am this time.
She found Khalilah’s number and dialed it. It seven times and went to voice. “Khalilah, call me back. Right away. Don’t wait, it’s urgent.”
She hit end and looked at the phone. If it rang, it meant Khalilah hadn’t turned it off to go to sleep or something. Although maybe she had it turned down so low she didn’t hear it. Veronica dialed 411 and asked for Yesenia Saleh. There was only the listing for her office at the Sacramento Center for Community Service. She left another message there, but she knew that wasn’t going to do any good.
She sniffled, her nose runny from all the crying. She got up and went to the bathroom, blowing her nose and washing her face. Her hair she pulled back into a quick ponytail. Then she punched send on the phone, scrolled down to Daniel’s number, and hit send again.
“Ronnie?” he answered in a light tone. “I thought you’d be asleep by now—it’s a school night and all.”
“Daniel, something bad has happened,” she said. “Or it’s going to.”
“What?” he said, his tone serious.
“I think Hamza Ahmad has Khalilah, and maybe Yesenia Saleh, too.”
“What? What do you mean ‘has’?”
“I mean like captured. I had a dream, Daniel. And—and I was there and—”
“Wait. ‘There’ where? Where were you?”
Veronica tried to steady her voice. “It was the storeroom of a market, Daniel, I’m almost positive. There were shelves and shelves of cardboard boxes and it all looked like food. Some of the labels were written in Arabic.”
“The grocery store Hamza, Jahid and Ghattas are buying.”
“That’s what I think,” Veronica said, leaning her cheek against the comforting softness of a towel hanging on the back of the bathroom door. “Khalilah and Yesenia were both sitting on the floor. They didn’t look good, Daniel—it was hard to see, but they were both hanging their heads…”
“Okay, don’t panic. Why would they be there? What would Hamza and the others want with them?”
Veronica’s mind went back to the moment in Amani’s apartment when she felt the stabbing pain. “The phone numbers,” she breathed.
“What? I didn’t hear you.”
“Khalilah and I went to see Amani.”
“At the motel?”
“No,” Veronica said. “Oh, god. No. We went there first but they’d come and got her. They took her back home.”
“They?”
“Hamza and Jahid.”
Daniel said nothing. She wondered if he was taking notes. Or maybe he’d guessed what came next, and he was going to yell at her for going to the Ahmads’ after he’d warned her about them.
“Khalilah still wanted to make sure Amani was okay,” she said. “She had Amani’s home address. Daniel, she was afraid they might have gone after Yesenia—she was right!”
“You went with her to see Amani, I take it?”
“Yes,” Veronica said miserably. “We went there and we talked to Amani. I wanted her to make a statement about seeing Lola on the day of the fire.”
“What?”
“Oh it’s a whole other thing. Lola has an alibi, but Amani won’t corroborate it.”
“Amani is Lola’s alibi?”
“I know. I can’t explain it. I think it’s not a coincidence. I think the spirits are at work somehow. But anyway, she refused to help, and Khalilah asked her if she knew about Hamza doing illegal stuff, and she couldn’t talk about that either. So we left our names and our phone numbers, Daniel.”
Silence. Veronica closed her eyes and leaned her face into the towel.
“Okay. Have you tried calling either of them?”
“Yes!” Veronica said, stepping away from the door. She told him about the messages.
“Okay,” Daniel said.
“Daniel,” Veronica said, “there’s more. In my dream, I was creeping between the shelves, and some man jumped out and stabbed me.”
Daniel was silent again. Then he said, “So you weren’t on the floor with Khalilah and Yesenia.”
“No.”
“Are you sure you were you?”
Veronica closed her eyes. “I—um. No. No, I’m not sure.”
“Okay, well, better safe than sorry. I’m sending a patrol car over to your place right now. You don’t open your door to anyone else. Is that clear?”
“Yes,” Veronica said. “But what about Khalilah—”
“I’m going to go to the grocery store right away, okay?”
~~~
For ten minutes, Veronica stayed where she was. The feeling of urgency built in her chest, and she began to feel a serious sense of alarm.
Khalilah and Yesenia needed her help. She was sure of it. She tried to convince herself she was being ridiculous, but the certainty held up against all of her best arguments. She felt the urgency like a ringing throughout her body. Something was wrong. Daniel wasn’t going to be able to take care of it by himself. She was sure of it.
Besides, staying here didn’t mean she’d be safe. If Hamza found Khalilah, he could find her, too. It was better to leave. What would the patrol officers do, drive down her street? She doubted they’d have time to stay with her like bodyguards. So staying home was probably less safe than leaving.
The trouble was, the place she wanted to go would hardly be safer. She wanted to go to Hamza’s grocery store. The urgency coursed through her, reminding her of the way she felt the day that Angie got abducted. People she cared about were in danger, and with her visions, she might be able to help them.
She wanted to honor Daniel’s concern for her, but she also wanted to be strong. If she was cautious, maybe she could do something to help him save Khalilah and Yesenia. And she was afraid for him.
She would take a cab to the grocery store, she decided. She wouldn’t go inside, or even near it. She’d just get out and watch it. Maybe see what came to her, vision-wise.
The cab came quickly, it being a Monday night, and she sat back in the seat and watched the city go by, wondering if she could do anything to make this whole thing less tricky. But she couldn’t come up with anything. Calling Melanie wouldn’t help, would it?
She had a thought, and speed-dialed her.
“Hey,” Melanie answered.
“Did I wake you?”
“No, but close. What’s up?”
Veronica considered how to phrase the request. “Okay, this is going to sound a little weird.”
“Coming from you? I doubt it.”
“Nice. Look, I’m going to go do something, maybe a little dangerous.”
“Uh…”
“And I was thinking, maybe I could do like a check in with you every ten minutes or so. I’m sorry to keep you up, but just in case. Then if I didn’t check in, you could call 911.”
“Veronica Barry, what in heaven’s name are you up to?”
“Probably nothing,” Veronica said. “Something’s going on at this grocery store.” She gave Melanie the location. “Daniel’s taking care of it, but I just have to go and make sure he’s okay, and—well, it’s complicated, but I’m going to be careful.”
“Veronica, you can’t put yourself in the middle of a police action!”
“I’m not! I’m just going to wait outside.”
“Absolutely not!”
“Melanie, I have to go. I’ll text you every ten minutes.”
“Oh, it’s texting, now? So you won’t have to argue with me?”
“Mel, I have to do this! I feel it!” Veronica said.
“It’s. Too. Dangerous.”
“I’ll be okay, Mel, I promise.” Veronica looked out of the cab window as the driver slowed down. They were close.
“Veronica!”
“The cab’s pulling over, I have to go.”
Veronica touched the end button, flinching. Guilt stabbed her. She never hung up on anyone, much less Melanie. What was she doing?
After paying the fare she got out of the cab and stood on the sidewalk opposite the grocery store. For a moment, nothing happened, then a piece of shadow cast by a street light moved and formed the shape of a man near the front doors of the market. A ghost. Veronica watched, her throat tight. I knew it, she thought. I knew I had to come.
Chapter 21
Veronica glanced around, then jogged on the pads of her feet across to where the shadow waited. From the breadth of the shoulders, she intuited that the ghost used to be a man, but the rest of his features were indistinct. She didn’t think it was the old man with the red shirt who had helped her find the Peach Walnut motel, though. This ghost was taller.
As she approached he moved away a bit, then hovered, as if waiting for her to catch up. Something in the slope of his shoulders and the angle of his neck reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t place who. Had she known this person before he died? Or had she encountered this ghost before?
She followed the form as it led her around the side of the building, deeper into the shadows. For a moment she feared the darkness would obscure her guide, but the color of his back shifted to a light cream, strangely unaffected by the darkness. His overall lack of detail remained the same, however, so it was a bit like following a blotch of dim light.
As they neared the end of the walk down the side of the grocery store, they came to a large metal door painted in flaking blue. It had a silver handle with a lock. The ghost continued, however, taking her around to the back. He stopped by a parked car and extended a part of the creamy light like an arm, pointing at the ground.
Veronica stepped over a broken bottle and crouched. There was a rock on the ground.
“You want me to take this rock?” she asked, wondering if the spirit meant her to arm herself.
Lift. It.
The voice sent a shudder through her, and for a moment Veronica did nothing but stare at the shape before her.
“Daddy?” she said.
The shape gathered and formed details—the cream was a shirt with long sleeves. The legs became more distinct, legs in jeans and shoes she remembered—her father’s favorite boots. She raised her eyes to the face. The features there coalesced last. Her father’s mouth—curved lips just like her own. His oval face, harder edged than hers—but still, she saw herself in it. His eyes were blue and his nose was slightly scooped, two features she had not inherited from him.
“Daddy,” Veronica breathed.
Very Bear.
Her hand covered her mouth and her heart thumped. “Oh my god.”
Very Bear. I’m here. I’m always here.
She moved the hand from her mouth to reach for him, wishing she could touch him, but the tips of her fingers passed through his cheek. “Oh, Daddy.”
Lift the rock.
Veronica swallowed and looked back down at the ground. She glanced at her father’s ghost again, but now that she had moved past the shock, her sense of urgency had returned. She crouched and lifted the rock. It was fake. On the underside was a recess, with a key stuck to a magnet.
Pulling it free, Veronica took the key back to the metal door, her father moving with her. His form had lost distinction again, and he wasn’t much more than a glow beside her. Still, it moved her to know he was there.
Call the police.
Veronica blinked at the glowing shape. Then she pulled out her cell and dialed 911. She told the dispatcher where she was, and that someone had tied up two women and had a gun. When the dispatcher tried to keep her on the line, she hung up. She considered calling Melanie but she couldn’t afford to have another argument right now. She texted her, instead, “Im ok.” Then she pocketed the phone and gripped the key.
It slid into the lock. Her father lifted his arm up and brought his face into focus clearly enough for Veronica to see he held a finger to his lips.
She turned the handle slowly, gripping it tightly, holding her breath. The door made a light click as it opened. She pushed it, leaning against its weight, easing it as quietly as she could. As soon as the gap was big enough, she slipped in, closing it carefully behind her.
She stood in the storeroom from her dream. It wasn’t very large. On the wall to her right was a large white board, covered in writing. Even if it hadn’t been in Arabic, the lack of light would still have made it impossible to read. Ten yards away, on the ceiling, one dim lamp shone, but it didn’t cast far into the darkness. She took a step closer to it and saw on a low shelf under it a basket with small, flat, rectangular, white things in it.
Take one.
Veronica grasped one, and realized w
hat it was. A box cutter. She pushed the blade out and held it at her side.
To her left stood a half a dozen rows of shelves like the one from her dream. Veronica gritted her teeth. If she snuck down one of those rows, would someone stab her when she got to the other end?
This way.
Veronica looked in the direction her father pointed. He wanted her to walk along the rows, not down the first one.
Careful.
Veronica pressed herself against the end of the first row and then peered down it. She saw nothing but a wall a few feet from where the row ended. She stepped quickly to the next row, then peered down it. What she saw stopped her heart.
Daniel lay on the ground.
His hand clutched a wound just under his breastbone. Just where the man had stabbed her in her dream. Veronica clasped both hands to her mouth, breathing in sharply. The sound of her intake of breath seemed loud to her ears, and she swung back against the end of the row, forcing herself to breath in and out several times. Her head swam with panic.
She’d called the police, she reminded herself. Why hadn’t her father told her to before?
Footsteps, and then talking.
On the far end of the rows, two men spoke in Arabic. Then a third cut in in English. Veronica caught a glimpse of them and then stepped into a row to avoid being seen.
“Look, you called me here because you said you had a problem, not a fucking disaster. You knifed a cop, you ragheads.”
Veronica forced herself to breathe quietly so she could hear, but she felt dizzy.
“You insult us, now? Why did you call this ghabi?”
The other man answered in Arabic.
“I suppose you want me to get rid of his body? And the two bitches?”
Follow me.
Veronica started at the sound of her father’s voice. He was beside her again, between her and the end of the row where Daniel lay. He drifted towards Daniel. Veronica hurried after him, fear making every muscle in her body tight.
“You do what we pay you to do,” the Arabic man who spoke English said.
When she reached Daniel, she went down on one knee, but her hand hesitated over his face. She was afraid to touch him.
The Fire and the Veil (Veronica Barry Book 2) Page 25