“There’s no need for sarcasm. I’m really. . . . so sorry about Renna and Eric, Sailor.”
“I want to look at Griselda’s things, but you know as well as I do we won’t find the ring there. She must have gotten it to safety somehow. So, you were saying there were two guys following you, and your father’s in town. Anyone else involved?”
I nodded. “There’s a man named Gene. He’s organizing fire dances in the park, and I think he’s after the ring as well.”
“Is he working with your father?”
“It’s a little hard to say. I think all of them—Zeke and Clem and my father and Gene—are beholden to the demon. Whether they’re looking for the amulet to do the demon’s bidding and destroy it or to try to use it to free themselves . . . that’s another question.”
“How can I get in touch with your father?”
I nodded and chose my words carefully. “I’m not so sure it’s a great idea to go up against these guys alone. I think we need Aidan.”
“I know we need Aidan, but there’s no way in hell he’ll work with me on this. Don’t be naive.”
“Gene is frightening, Sailor. I don’t know exactly what his story is, but I think he’s able to channel the demon at times. During the fire dance, for example. He might be more than beholden; he might be a voluntary minion.”
“So when’s the next fire dance?”
“Listen to me a second. I’m not sure you’re strong enough.”
“Excuse me?”
How do you tell a man who prides himself on his self-sufficiency and independence that he’s not strong enough? This was not something Sailor wanted to hear.
“You tune into people’s vibrations, right? So if you connect with Gene’s mind at the time the demon’s channeling, what’s to keep you from being possessed by him as well?”
“I’ll keep my guard up.”
“That might not be enough. Before you talk with Gene—or my father, for that matter—I think the weak link here is Clem. If we can track him down, you might be able to get information from him.”
“You didn’t get much from him, and it sounds like you’ve spent a fair amount of time together.”
“I’m not psychic,” I said, feeling vaguely insulted. “And despite what you think, I’ve only been dealing with this whole thing for a few days, and I think I’ve done a pretty good job figuring things out so far.”
He inclined his head slightly. I supposed that was as close as I was going to get to an apology.
I couldn’t tell if he was just enraged by the attack on his aunt and uncle and was taking it out on me, or whether he thought I hadn’t done enough for him when he was banished by Aidan, or whether he was angry at me for some other reason. I was mad, too, and couldn’t exactly say why. Obviously we needed to talk about our relationship. But this wasn’t the best time.
My cuckoo clock tweeted five times. We had been up all night. I didn’t need much sleep to function . . . but neither was I superhuman.
“I have to get some rest, Sailor. Why don’t we . . . I mean, if you want you could . . .”
“I’m going to go check a few things out. I’ll check back in later today. Arrange that thing with your cop friend, will you?”
“How can I get in touch?”
With a funny twist of his mouth, he wrote down a number on a scrap of paper. “My cell phone.”
Sailor didn’t give his cell phone number to anyone.
And without so much as a peck on the cheek or a lingering look, he was gone.
• • •
The next day I was matching gloves from a great trove Maya had acquired from an elderly woman, when the phone rang. The man on the other end introduced himself as SFPD Inspector Carlos Romero.
“We’re being very formal today, Inspector Romero.”
“Calling from the office,” he said, still in his official cop voice. “I’ve arranged for the visit we spoke about. Tonight, six p.m.”
“About that . . .” I began. “I really want to look through the things, just in case. But the truth is I’m not all that great divining things from jewelry. In fact, I sort of suck at it.”
Silence on the other end of the line. I could just see Carlos pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, stifling whatever invectives were springing to mind.
“So what I’d like to do is bring a friend along, someone much better at it than I. You would be there with us the whole time, and we’ll share any information we can glean from the stuff.”
“Who is this friend?”
“Sailor.”
Again he failed to respond. I could hear voices in the background, the ringing of phones, some radio chatter. It reminded me of sitting with Carlos at the police station and looking up to see my father.
My stomach clenched at the thought.
“Maybe Neil could take us?” I suggested. Neil was Carlos’s partner. He liked me better than Carlos did, much of the time.
“No, Neil cannot take you.” I heard some shuffling on the line and his voice dropped. “I refuse to be laughed out of the department if it gets out that I’m letting the local witch battalion march through the evidence room.”
“I’m hardly a battalion. And, anyway, a group of witches is typically known as a coven.”
“I know what it’s known as. I’m already suspect around here because I recognized the manner of death as a witch thing.”
“Have they made any progress on the investigation?”
“Nothing. Total dead end. Sounds like it was pandemonium, no one saw a thing.”
“So, it sounds like you might need me and Sailor to come in and take a look at the evidence, just in case.”
“Tonight. Meet me at the Heart and Dagger at the corner of Harrison and Ninth. I’ll lead you over from there.”
“Okay.”
“And, Lily? Try to be discreet, if you possibly can.”
“Aren’t I always?”
“In other words, leave your pig at home.”
I agreed and hung up. What now? I hate the phone. But while I was at it, I placed a call to Germany. Hans answered, his voice sounding as formal as Carlos’s had a moment before.
“I’m about to meet with a client, so I have to make this brief. The young man you asked about was a neighbor who was orphaned in a house fire some years ago. Griselda took him in, raised him as her own. That’s all I’ve got.”
I thanked him, hung up, and placed one more phone call. After all, I had hired Sam Spade to do some investigating for me. He answered the phone like a stockbroker. “This is Sam Spade. How may I help you?”
“Hi, Sam. It’s Lily. Just thought I’d check in to see if you’d made any progress with Johannes.”
“One Johannes Herzberg recently checked into the Hyatt.”
“Seriously? The Hyatt on the Embarcadero?”
“Unfortunately, I staked the place out all last night, but he never left his room.” I heard the pages of a book flipping, and could have sworn he was looking something up. No doubt reading out of his handbook. “Yeah, here it is. . . . Overnights are extra.”
“You didn’t mention that in our fee negotiation.”
“True. But I figured you wouldn’t want to miss the chance to catch him once I had him in my sights.”
“Fine, keep on it. And hey, while you’re there, keep an eye out for a man named Sailor, dark eyes and hair, generally bad attitude. Last seen in jeans and a black T-shirt.” I wouldn’t put it past Sailor to use his contacts to track Clem or my father down to the Hyatt.
“It’s . . .” More pages flipping. “Um . . . If I’m looking for more than one missing person, the rate increases.”
“Why am I not surprised?” I shook my head and looked down at my watch. “Tell you what. I’m on my way over to you.”
• • •
Sam looked much less
out of place here in the Hyatt’s grand lobby, filled with businesspeople and upscale travelers. His suit and tie and briefcase fit right in, as a matter of fact, not to mention his expensive haircut and clean-shaven, healthy, all-American good looks.
When he spotted me, he practically ran across the wide lobby to greet me. He was excited, flush with success.
“He’s up on the sixth floor. You can see him from here,” he said, gesturing overhead.
The Hyatt was built with a massive central atrium, so the rooms were accessed by catwalks overlooking the bar and lobby.
I looked up, and, indeed, there was young Johannes, leaning over the railing, looking down.
“What’s he doing?” I asked.
“That’s an excellent question. Pondering his fate, perhaps? You never told me why you were looking for him.”
“Good point. Okay, I’m going to go talk to him. You stay here and watch the elevators in case he comes down in the interim, all right?”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
• • •
It was shocking to see how much Johannes had changed since I had seen him at the Gem Faire. The once strapping young man hunched over the railing, eyes twitching and vacant. He swayed slightly, as though barely able to support his own weight.
It took a great deal of energy to hold the ring. I was betting that Johannes was loyal enough to Griselda to try to get the ring someplace secure after she gave up her life trying to keep it safe.
“Johannes?” He looked up as I approached him on the catwalk. “What are you doing here?”
“Someone, they rent a room for me. Sent me a note to say it was paid . . . I don’t know who. Was it you?”
I shook my head. My money was on Gene.
“Johannes, tell me: What did you do with the ring?”
“I couldn’t hold it any longer; it was making me sick. Still my hands shake. See?” He held out one trembling hand. “So I got it to a powerful Hexe. She can hold it, but she can’t do what’s necessary. I feel a little better now, but still not well.”
“You can trust me, Johannes.” I concentrated, hoping he would understand that I truly wanted to help him. “Tell me where the ring is. Who has it?”
He studied me for a moment. “Griselda had a list of names of people who might be trusted. You were on this list. But then . . . after what your father did . . .”
“What did he do?”
“I saw him with the athame. Standing over Griselda.”
A sudden chill passed through me, like I had been doused with cold water. Then something else occurred to me. “Are you sure it was my father? How would you know that?”
“Carlotta told us the story, that your father lost his battle with the demon. She told us he was badly scarred from the fire. But she said he had a daughter who came to Germany once, a witch powerful enough to take care of the ring. That is why you were on the list.”
“But what—”
Johannes’s eyes grew huge.
A tsk sound came from behind us.
I swung around. Gene was strolling casually toward us.
“Leave him alone, Gene,” I said, placing myself between the two men. I was acutely aware that I had nothing particularly useful with me: no brew, no charms or protection other than my medicine bag. “He doesn’t have it.”
“Oh, but he knows where it is. And you’ll tell me, won’t you, young Johannes?”
Suddenly Gene’s eyes shifted over my shoulder, and he grinned.
I swung around. Johannes was climbing over the railing.
“Johannes, don’t!” I cried.
Chapter 20
“Bitte . . . please forgive me.”
He tumbled over the side.
I lurched for him, grabbing one arm just as he went over the rail. I braced against the half wall, feeling as though my arms were being pulled out of their sockets. I wouldn’t be able to hold him for more than a few seconds.
Onlookers from below screamed as they watched him dangle six stories up.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. The folly of youth, am I right?” said Gene as he looked at Johannes with greedy eyes. “They’re so impulsive, so emotional. That’s what’s great about young people, though, don’t you think?”
There were shouts from below, and I heard a far-off alarm.
“Help me,” I implored. I knew Gene was evil, but he wanted information from Johannes. In the heat of the moment, I hoped he would want to keep the young man alive for the sake of finding out the ring’s location.
I could feel Johannes slipping from my grasp. He wasn’t hanging on to me; he dangled like deadweight.
And then with a sudden wrench, my fingers gave out.
Our contact was broken as he slipped from my grasp. I leaned over the railing but squeezed my eyes shut. Unfortunately I couldn’t close my ears; I heard more screams.
Arms wrapped around me from behind. Thinking it was Gene, I tried to twist free, but it was Sam Spade. My very own private investigator. He eased me down to the floor. I felt the blood rush from my face and was engulfed by nausea.
I couldn’t think. All I knew was that I had to find a way to stop Gene from the havoc he was wreaking around town, but the regular police would be no help at all. What would I accuse him of? Being at the Gem Faire and teaching kids to fire dance for free, and then being nearby when Johannes . . . jumped? I am here, too, I thought. But I wasn’t strong enough to hold him, to stop him before . . .
Another wave of nausea hit me, and I saw black spots. I put my head between my knees and concentrated on breathing.
“Lily? Lily!” Sam was saying. “Listen to me. They put out a net below him. Lily, do you hear me? Apparently this isn’t the first time they’ve dealt with a jumper. He’s going to be okay. Let me see your arm.”
“He’s not . . . dead?”
“No, but unconscious, apparently. They’re working on him now. Let me see your arm.”
Until that moment I hadn’t realized I couldn’t move it. I looked at it as though it didn’t belong to me.
“I was an Eagle Scout,” he said. “Trained in first aid. Want me to pop it back in?”
“What?” I still wasn’t thinking straight. But without asking again, Sam positioned himself in front of me, one hand on my shoulder and the other holding my forearm. He pulled and twisted. I felt a stab of pain and a tingling sensation, and still felt that strange sense that it was someone else’s arm. But I was able to wiggle my fingers.
I looked around the hallway. Gene was long gone. But he had left his card, marked with an invitation to the fire dance that night at the setting of the sun.
• • •
Before that, I was supposed to meet Carlos at six o’clock to look through Griselda’s things. I showed up at the Heart and Dagger before the appointed time. Sailor was already there, already imbibing. I strode up to the bar, didn’t say a word, and ordered a shot of Jameson.
Sailor raised his eyebrows and looked at me askance. “You’ve become a drinker in my absence?”
“I’m working on it,” I quipped, intending to down the whole shot but managing just a single throat-burning swig. Nonetheless, the heat felt good. I still hadn’t reconciled what I had just witnessed: the visual of Johannes going over that railing would, I feared, remain vivid in my mind until the day I died. I felt sick to my stomach every time it came back to me.
Apparently, the net had saved his life. However, he was unresponsive and was taken to the hospital, where he would remain on a close suicide watch. Sam Spade promised me he would stay with Johannes and raise a huge stink if anyone tried to come near him. Gene wasn’t all-powerful, after all, and since Johannes wasn’t beholden to the demon, they wouldn’t be able to read his mind or hurt him from afar.
I believed Johannes had carried his burden with him as best he could, forfeiting his own health for
it. And he’d been about to tell me where I could find it until Gene showed up. I imagined Johannes knew Gene would get the information out of him, one way or another, and tried to put an end to it before he could say. He had been willing to sacrifice himself to keep the ring safe.
Somehow the idea that Griselda, and Carlotta, for that matter, had done the same didn’t seem as bad. They were mature witches, aware of what they were doing and the dangers they played with every day. Like me. Johannes seemed like . . . an innocent.
I hoped to blazes I could stop Gene and his henchmen before they got to Johannes or found the Ojo del Fuego.
I downed the rest of my drink. The tightness in my gut uncoiled slightly, and the ache in my shoulder receded a bit.
Sailor gestured to the bartender to refill my shot glass, but kept his puzzled gaze on me.
“You okay there, tiger?”
“I’ve been better.”
“Listen, Lily—”
Just then Carlos arrived and interrupted him. “So reassuring to see my supernatural crime-fighting crew getting snockered right before I take them into the evidence room.”
“Sorry, Inspector,” I said, erring on the side of politeness. “It’s been one hell of a day.”
His eyes rested on Sailor. Sailor returned the look, one of pure male challenge and recognition of the rival. Rival for what, I wasn’t sure. But it was clear the men didn’t care for each other. So what else was new?
“Let’s get going while you’re still sober. This bar is open till two in the morning, so you could come by afterward and tie one on.”
As Carlos led us both back to the Hall of Justice, I gave him a brief outline of what had happened with Johannes, who was an official person of interest in the Gem Faire murder. He asked a number of pointed questions, but agreed to send over police protection.
Carlos brought us into a small, enclosed room. On a table sat several boxes full of jewelry and a few other small items. On a second table were items from Griselda’s room at the Morning House B and B.
I didn’t expect we’d find anything and wanted to make short work of it. Johannes told me he had gotten the amulet ring into the hands of a Hexe, a witch, and I believed him. If only he’d told me who before flinging himself over the railing.
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