by Greg Curtis
“The rules –.”
“– Do not prevent you from giving us that information.” He cut her off again. “Those that the Choir have slept with already know of your existence. There is nothing more to tell them that they do not already know. And any children would be nephilim. And the one thing we know is that both parents and children need help.”
“We cannot allow any more Armando Benedict's to be created.”
It was the one thing she had to hear. Benedict was the Choir's failure. But he was their failure as well. Had someone found him and helped him, counselled him in some way shortly after, then it was doubtful he would have become the danger to them all that he had become. Likewise many other people would be alive as well.
The Choir had failed to live by their rules. And the nephilim had failed to look past their own needs to think of others. There was no shortage of blame to go around. But this wasn't about blame. It was about making things better.
“I will speak to the others.”
And with that the angel was gone, leaving him there with the two women who had just arrived back in the room with coffee cups in their hands. At least they'd stopped laughing. In fact Maricia was looking suddenly very serious. Garrick cut her off before she could ask.
“It's time to fix this mess.”
It was. That was the one thing he'd finally come to realise. They had a problem and it had to be fixed. And since the Choir weren't going to do it, they had to. It was time for his people to stand up for themselves.
Chapter Twenty Nine
Three weeks later found Garrick standing in front of the foundations to his new house, wondering how long it would be before it was ready for him to move in to. Quite a while he guessed when all they'd managed to do was pour the slab so far. Still, it was in progress and he'd wanted to see it while he was still in the city. He was getting tired of motel living – even when the insurance company was paying. But at least the company was prepared to renew his policy now that Benedict was in jail and it looked like his home wasn't going to be blown up again. Happy enough that they might not even raise his premiums – too much.
They'd paid for a new truck too, and that at least was something he could enjoy for the moment. Once his backside healed enough for him to sit in it comfortably that was. And even if it was only him.
“Why a truck?” Maricia interrupted his enjoyment with the same complaint she'd been repeating ever since he'd picked up his new wheels a week before. “Why this gas guzzling monstrosity instead of a nice comfortable car?”
“High ground clearance, four wheel drive, plenty of load capacity and a full cabin. And it's not that thirsty since it's a hybrid.”
“It's ugly and takes up half the road!”
“And we're late!” Katarinka called out to them from the back seat, impatient to get going.
Except that now she was known as Katz. Garrick wasn't quite sure when that had happened or why. But at least she wasn't still being referred to as “the suspect”, or worse “the defendant”. Maricia even said she was working hard at school. Improving her grades. And she had a boyfriend, not that she would ever admit it. Someone called Mark.
“There's plenty of time kid. They're not going to throw your mother out on to the street you know.” Katz' mother was one of the few people being let out of jail lately that he was happy to see released. The others he wasn't so pleased about.
The three Treasury agents had been discharged. They were unemployed and lucky not to be facing serious charges, but when the investigators had back tracked their way through some of Benedict's previous abodes they'd found evidence that he'd been behind their madness. They really had been duped. As for Treasury itself, heads were rolling at every level. Benedict really had had his claws in them deep. But then heads were rolling in other agencies, including the bureau. Only a few there, but each one was like another bullet in his guts.
As for Detective Warren, he'd made a simple one off statement to the effect that he'd never meant to shoot Garrick, just threaten him a little, and it had all been a drastic misunderstanding. That was enough it seemed to keep him not only out of jail, but employed. Garrick wasn't exactly thrilled about that, but common sense told him there was no value in arguing about it. Especially when with Benedict out of the way the detective was free of him and no longer an enemy.
Even the assassins who had come after him were now in witness protection. He wasn't quite sure why.
As for Benedict, he was now in an institution being evaluated, and the likelihood was that he would be discharged as unfit to stand trial and committed.
It seemed unfair to him, that all these people who had shot him and tried to kill him were getting away with it. But at least it was over and they weren't going to be trying to shoot him any more.
“She's right though – we will be late. So let's just go and pick her mother up and bring her back to Olmstead before Katz has a heart attack. And then you can be off on your next assignment.”
His next assignment! It was such an odd thing to hear. But now he had assignments. As a private investigator on contract to Olmstead for the moment, he had people to find. In this case a mother and three year old son who needed to be contacted, helped – if they could be – and brought back to Olmstead if they were willing. He suspected they would be willing.
Leaving the bureau had been the hardest decision he had ever had to make. But it had been the right decision. He had always been torn between his role as an agent of the FBI and his life as a nephilim. Forced to choose. No longer. Being an agent had been a dream – his dream. Using his gift to find lost children had also been a dream – her dream. But being a nephilim was reality. In the end he had to help his people and he couldn't do that as an agent. But Cassie would no doubt be pleased, especially after he had tried to lay down the law with her. Not that she'd listened.
“All right let's go. The house isn't going anywhere.”
Garrick walked Maricia back to the truck and even held the door open for her. He got a kiss on the cheek for his trouble, and a cheeky look from Katarinka as she saw them. Of course she had to add to it with a few choice words when he climbed in the driver's seat.
“Now you two, I want to see those seat belts done up tight and both of you on your own sides of the vehicle. There'll be none of that old person sex thank you very much. You could damage my poor teenage brain!”
“Old! I'm thirty four!” But even as he protested Garrick knew he shouldn't have. It was a mistake.
“Thirty four! Oh my God that's ancient!”
She laughed, amused at her own lack of wit, and Maricia turned away to stare red faced out of the window while Garrick groaned. It suddenly occurred to him that he'd been in this exact same situation only a few months before – driving the miscreant back to school. Only this time he was going to be driving her to meet up with her mother and then take them both back to Olmstead and Katz had decided she was a comedienne.
He turned the key and fired the engine. Seven hours of the kid trying to be funny. He might actually preferred it when she was being a brat!
Table of Contents
Copyright
Cover
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine