The transition of scenery was instant. One minute Cindy was pulling me out of the chair in the examination room, and the next minute Gloria was laying me down on my bed at home. My bed was super soft and cool against my face. I squished a pillow against me and listened to them talk animatedly, while Gloria removed my shoes and tucked me under the covers. My eyes fluttered closed and their soft voices became disembodied sound waves, vibrating overhead.
“Where’s Lane?” I asked into the pillow.
“I sent him home,” Gloria replied.
I pouted my lips out to show my disapproval.
Cindy didn’t give a shit about my boy troubles. “She said there’ve been killings.”
“You think it’s connected to Raphael and Gabriel?” Gloria asked. There, she’d said it. Just put it all out there. No turning back now.
“Jesse thinks we’re picking up, uh, a disturbance in the force or whatever.”
“It’s possible,” Gloria said. “I’ve long since believed that my visions weren’t supernatural. I’m just sensitive to the world around me. I sense the natural order and can predict how it will play out based on the present course. Humans are habitual. Every single one of us is traveling on a trajectory created by our own habits whether we realize it or not.”
Cindy kept talking, probably happy to speak to someone with comprehensible speech. “Why are Gabriel and Raphael so different if they’re just illusions? Wouldn’t they reflect the same information if they’re both just signals?”
“These metaphorical angels could be different aspects of the same situation or they’re somehow different based on your personalities—”
“Or?” Poor Cindy turned downright frantic.
“Or they’re really spirits with goals and intentions, manipulating you for a particular aim.”
“That’s real comforting,” I said into the pillow. “I’ve always wanted to be a puppet.”
“Do you think they’re spirits?” Cindy asked her.
“No,” I said. Gloria didn’t answer.
Cindy sank into the chair in the corner as if standing wasn’t an option anymore. “If they are angels, let me just add that I’d buy it if they were. I’m Christian, so it comes with the package. But if they are angels, then why are they different? Wouldn’t they want the same thing? Wouldn’t they both follow God’s will?”
“Did Raphael have a tie that changed colors like a mood ring?” I asked.
“No.”
“Jesse, honey, what’s your point?” Gloria asked, pulling the cover down to see my face.
“If they have tie preferences then they have taste. And if they have taste then they are different from each other, right?”
Gloria turned to Cindy. “What makes you think they’re different?”
“Gabriel is helping Jesse whereas Raphael is—he’s really pessimistic and mean.” Fresh tears crowded the edge of her words. God, I didn’t want to see that. I buried my face deeper in the pillow.
“Maybe that’s just the way you perceive the situation,” Gloria said. “You’ve no reason to suspect he wants something bad to happen to you.”
Cindy must’ve made a face because Gloria gasped as if repulsed. “What happened?”
“When I came to see you I was upset,” Cindy said.
“Yes, I thought Jesse might comfort you.”
“No, that’s not what I mean,” Cindy said. I heard her earrings jingle as she shook her head.
“I came to you because I was afraid.”
“Did Raphael touch you inappropriately?” I asked.
“Jesse,” Gloria said.
“I hear that’s what they do,” I said. “Isn’t that why they got kicked out of heaven because they got frisky with the ladies and didn’t stop when God said no?”
Cindy wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “Raphael told me to go the church on Broadway. He wanted me to confess to the priest there. If the Church is responsible for these attacks, then that’d be the worst place to send me, isn’t it?”
“You don’t know that’s what he meant,” Gloria said. “I misinterpret signs all the time.”
“Can you be both Christian and—like us?”
“Don’t be silly,” Gloria said.
Cindy got real quiet before whispering. “Maybe I am damned.”
“You are not,” Gloria said, shaking her. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Cindy was quiet for a long time. “I thought it was beautiful,” she finally said in a whisper. “I was six when they televised The Amalgamation. The Truce my momma called it. Do you remember it?”
“No,” I mumbled and it is true that I didn’t remember the Church uniting.
“For hours, they showed clips of all the faiths, pledging allegiance to one another. Every single one of them in countries all over the world. Hour after hour. Priests, ministers, pastors placing their hands on the Bible and pledging fellowship, then their followers. Each church would keep doing things in their own way, but now they acknowledged each other as equal. Can you even imagine it? The Church, they even referred to themselves collectedly. It was everything Christ talked about. No more fighting.”
“I bet the Muslims loved that.”
“But that’s the point!” Cindy shrieked. “In accepting each other they accepted everyone else too. The point of The Amalgamation was to end all religious warring. It was Christianity’s attempt to end the rivalry once and for all, and it worked.”
“Because they had their new devil,” I said. Lucky me.
“What I remember is martial law,” Gloria said. It was her turn to sound nostalgic as if waking from a dream. “Necronites shuffling the streets, turned out by their families. We were mobilized immediately to settle the civil unrest but it wasn’t enough. Tanks—rolling down our own streets.”
“Get back to your story,” I insisted. I didn’t like where this was going. “About Raphael.”
“I went to the church,” Cindy said. She stared at the floor as if she were envisioning a scene. “I sat down in a pew and started to pray. Then one of the clergymen approached me and told me to come with him.”
“He probably wanted to offer you counsel if you looked distraught,” Gloria offered.
Cindy shook her head. “The way he grabbed my arm, he wasn’t trying to comfort me. He was practically dragging me away.”
“Where would he take you?” Gloria asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Someone came in and called his name. I pulled away from him and ran.”
“You need to tell Garrison,” Gloria said. “It may help the investigation.”
“He didn’t really do anything wrong,” Cindy said, biting her lip. “It was just a feeling.”
“Priests are creepy,” I muttered into my pillows.
“Why would Raphael send me there if he knew I’d get hurt?” Cindy asked. “The church is only two blocks from where Cooper got shot. Raphael knew exactly what he was doing.”
“Are you sure Gabriel doesn’t mean you harm?” Gloria asked me.
I snorted. “If he were really trying to save me, you’d think he’d have said something before I almost got my head chopped off.”
“But if they’re angels—” Cindy said.
Gloria interrupted her. “Just because they’ve got wings doesn’t make them angels.”
“You know,” I said. The shady blob of an idea in the back of my mind began to solidify. “If we really want to know what’s going on with the angels, I know someone we can ask.”
Cindy squeezed my leg. “Who?”
“Rachel.”
Chapter 13
“Do I look slutty?” I tugged at the short skirt that came way too high up my thighs. After a nice, long sleep in which I lost the night and most of the next day, I woke in a much better mood. Better yet, I woke up with a plan.
We were at Gloria’s place, a squat one-story pile of bricks. Unlike my subdivision, all of these houses were exactly the same. I imagined they all had three bedrooms, two baths with detached ga
rages and decent-sized yards. Ally, Gloria and I congregated here because we knew we could talk without being overheard.
Safe in Gloria’s bedroom, they dressed me in Ally’s heels, a black skirt and tight shirt. The shirt did something magical to my breasts that I would’ve had to pay for if I wanted that kind of lift with any sort of permanency. My hair tumbled down in wild, tousled waves. Ally had glopped on too much eyeliner, but the most makeup I wore was lip balm on any given day. Mascara if I felt fat.
“You need to look the part,” Ally said. “Just a girl going out with friends.”
“I know, I know. I have to look like I’m just there to party, not skip town. I want them to think I’m using my suspension to let loose.”
Ally handed me a shoulder bag that could be mistaken for a huge purse. “This is all you get.”
I unzipped the top part of the dark bag to see inside. I had a wad of cash, a toothbrush, deodorant, and clean underwear. I also had a different, more respectable-looking, shirt.
“If I give you a bigger bag it’ll be too obvious,” she said. “Just make do with what you’ve got.”
“There must be $200 here. I’ll only be gone for a night,” I said. Unless of course I’m arrested for murder—then maybe the rest of my life.
“I emptied your piggy bank into the Coin-Star machine. It’d look too suspicious if any of us withdrew a chunk of cash right now,” she said.
“I suggest you avoid public places with video cameras,” Gloria added.
“You basically want me to drive straight there and back on cash only?” I asked. “And to stay out of sight.”
“I’d go with you, but they’ll expect that,” Ally said. “Just go to the funeral and come right back.”
Okay, so maybe I hadn’t told Ally the whole truth. Yes, I was sneaking out of town to attend my mother’s funeral. I was also planning a detour to St. Louis so that I could question Rachel. St. Louis was only an hour away from my mom’s place. I could do both.
Gloria kept her mouth shut.
“You guys watch too much television,” I said and tried to keep my tone casual. “I don’t think they’re monitoring my every move. I’m not on FBI’s most wanted or anything.”
“Be careful,” Ally said. I didn’t like the sad expression she gave me. Ever since I’d resolved to go, she’d been giving me this same pitiful look.
“Cheer up, would you? I’ll be back,” I said.
“You have the night to get there and the day to spend with Danny, but try to get back by five so you’ll be home before dark. If we’re lucky they’ll think they just lost track of you for the day. No harm, no foul.”
I adjusted my boobs the way I saw Eve do it. I have to admit, it was a pretty fantastic trick. “Quit worrying. I promise I’ll be quick about it.”
“Directions are in your bag,” Ally said with the renewed, devastated tone. She bit her lip.
“Are you sure you want to go? That woman didn’t do a damn thing for you.”
“I have to check on Danny,” I said, my heart aching. “I want to know who’ll be taking care of him. It’s the least I can do.”
But what the hell would I say to him was the real question. I felt like I had to apologize for missing most of his childhood. I’d always thought my mother had told him I was dead, but it turned out he’d known all along. What excuse had she given him for my absence? What lies had she told the kid?
I did one more turn in the mirror, suspecting I’d just seen my black panties under my skirt.
“Good,” I said. “But I can’t walk in these heels.” What I meant was, I can’t run fast in heels if something goes wrong. And something was bound to go wrong, right? I can’t skip town, evade the authorities and visit a mental patient with at least something happening.
After exchanging the heels for a gray sneaker and a blue sneaker, I organized my getaway bag to make sure I had everything. Gloria walked us to the car and gave me another squeeze. She didn’t say anything, just giving me a hug, her face golden in the streetlight.
Shivering against the chilly fall night in my scant skirt, I climbed into the car the second I heard Ally unlock the door. Our headlights illuminated the cop car as we pulled out. Two pairs of beady little eyes glared back at us, like raccoons in a dumpster.
I gave Gloria a little wave as she waited in her driveway for us to leave.
The cops did a U-turn and followed us. “Surprise, surprise.”
Ally’s dark eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. She drove straight to the warehouse, cops on our tail. It wasn’t until she parked the car in the back lot that she spoke to me again.
“Got your license?” she asked.
“Of course.” I got carded for everything. I felt like I was perpetually under the you must be this tall to ride line. Going somewhere without ID wasn’t really an option for me.
“OK.” She’d gripped the wheel and tried to twist it in her hands as the cop car came to a stop adjacent from us in the dark lot. They stayed to the right, probably for a good, uninterrupted view of the entrance. Not the least bit discreet. Ally didn’t look away from them when she spoke again. “You don’t have to do this. Seriously, we can just send your mother a huge bouquet.”
“I want to go,” I said. And I need to know more. “You can’t make up a funeral.”
Waiting around to be killed or go completely insane just wasn’t an option. Everything with Brad Cestrum, Atlanta and the replacement agents dying was beyond my control, but I did have control over the fact was something was wrong with me. I was exploding things—I was hallucinating. And if I didn’t get proactive about these angel hallucinations, it was going to get worse. So I couldn’t do anything about the investigation or the murders, but I sure as hell could deal with the angels and put my energy into figuring out if I was crazy or not.
And then there was Daniel.
Ally pushed the hair behind my ears and leaned dangerously close. “Please don’t go. I have the worst feeling about this.”
“I’ll be careful,” I promised, and the intimacy of the dark car pressed in on me, drawing my attention to little things that I usually didn’t notice. The soft sound of her breath. The heat of it on my cheek. The smell of her shampoo.
Ally looked so beautiful in the shadows with only the stray orange light from street lamps illuminating her cute, tiny ears and turning her eyes from black to gold. I found myself leaning toward her, catching the scent of peppermint gum. I was warm and dizzy from it. I wanted to kiss her, but I stopped. Ally told me not to confuse her and this is exactly what she meant.
When I opened my eyes, completely unaware that I’d even closed them as I leaned in close to her, she was still right there. Her long lashes collected the orange light and she waited for me to make my move. And despite the invitation, I knew better. I knew better than to hurt one of the most important people in my life by dangling a commitment I could never give her in front of her face like a cat toy.
“I love you,” she said. It wasn’t the first time she’d said it.
“I love you too,” I said. And I meant it. I pressed myself against the door and pushed myself out of the car with what little restraint I still had.
At the entrance to The Loft a tall girl with dreadlocks extended her hand. “ID, please.”
I fished it from the top of my bag, doing my best to hide the other contents.
She angled it in the neon light of The Loft sign above the doorway. Satisfied, she passed it back to me between two fingers. “Five bucks.” Maybe I look older with all this makeup.
I gave her the cash. She pushed open the heavy metal door as if it were light as cotton candy.
The inside of the club was all smoke, shadows and flashing colored light. A full spectrum of prismatic colors cut through the air in rotation, guided by the colorful balls in the ceiling that seemed to dictate the rays’ trajectories. If Ally, or anyone for that matter, said a word to me, I couldn’t hear it. Not over the chest-thumping bass and techno treble flooding the ro
om in repetitious waves.
Ally pulled my hand, urging me away from the door. We headed for the girl’s bathroom, the only place quiet enough to talk. Umbri and Kyra were in the bathroom already when we came in. Ally checked under the stalls for feet and satisfied it was just us, slid the deadbolt into place.
I pointed at them. “How did they—?”
Ally held up her phone. “I texted them.”
“Very cryptic like,” Kyra said.
Umbri read her screen. “Meet us in the bathroom. Come a-lone.”
Umbri and Ally used to work together at the same coffee shop. Once they became after-work buddies, Ally met Kyra, Umbri’s best friend. They’d been hanging out for almost a year before I came into the picture. Both Kyra and Umbri, our friends for the past year or so, moved forward with wide eyes when they saw me. They tenderly pulled my gauze down with Ooos and Aahhs.
“Girl, you are so badass,” Umbri said. She was Japanese-American with short spiky hair falling forward into her eyes. Her eyes almost seemed closed when she smiled this big.
“When I saw you on television, I couldn’t believe it. Ho must’ve been off her meds or something,” Kyra said. She flipped her brunette ponytail off her shoulders as she leaned closer to inspect my wound. “You know, it’s not as fun calling her a whore when she’s actually a whore.”
Ally gently pulled me away from them. “Worst part is we don’t know why she did it.”
That wasn’t my “worst part” of that experience.
“Ally says you need a car to leave town for a while,” Umbri said. She turned to the mirror and applied more glittery lipstick. When she moved in the light, I realized that she was covered in glitter.
“Yeah, the cops are watching me,” I said. “They can’t know I’ve left town.”
“Wow, I think this is the most trouble you’ve ever been in, right?” Umbri, having just fixed her eyeliner, abandoned the mirror to give me her full attention.
I nodded. “Hands down.”
“Even more than when that dog ate your finger and we had to wait until it—”
Ally held up her hands to intercept. “They disinfected it before it was sown back on.”
Dying for a Living (A Jesse Sullivan Novel) Page 12