Storm Demon

by Gregory Lamberson

  Lilith is doing this, not the Magic.

  Standing behind Katrina, Chloe had become Sheryl. And when Harla moved around him, she wore Maria’s face like a mask.

  “Come on, baby.” Sheryl stuck the pipe between his lips again.

  He took another hit of Magic. This time he held the foul smoke inside him longer before relinquishing it.

  Maria pushed him onto a round bed, and Katrina and Sheryl crawled beside her, the three of them probing him with their tongues and fingers.

  Jake didn’t need Lilith to tell him what to do next.

  22

  Laurel lay on the cot staring at the ceiling in Jake’s bedroom. She felt uncomfortable around Carrie and Ripper even though they didn’t know the full circumstances of her situation.

  The suspense of waiting to hear from Jake gnawed at her insides. She didn’t believe he stood a chance against Lilian, but she knew he would not be dissuaded from facing her. For a time she had fantasized about him saving her from Eternity Books, but that was just a daydream.

  Outside the wind howled and rain lashed at the windows; at least the snow had stopped. Rising into a seated position, she wrung her hands. After years in self-imposed exile, she had become Lilian’s prisoner, and now she was Jake’s. Her thoughts kept returning to him.

  Frustrated by the waiting, she stood and left the room. In the office, she glanced at Jake’s safe.

  Keep walking, she thought.

  She poured herself a cup of coffee in the kitchen and wandered into the reception area, where Carrie and Ripper sat watching the news on TV. Food wrappers and empty glasses were scattered all over Carrie’s desk. Ripper glanced at her, then back at the TV.

  On the screen a heavyset weatherman held on to a microphone with one hand and his hat with the other while the wind wrapped his poncho around him and rain drenched him at a sixty-degree angle. An orange metal garbage can rolled away behind him.

  “Marissa, the wind is blowing seventy-five miles per hour. Wind must reach seventy-four miles an hour to be classified as a hurricane, and Daria hasn’t even made it to us yet. A category 1 hurricane, the least destructive on the Saffir-Simpson Hurricane Scale, has wind speeds of seventy-four miles an hour to ninety-five miles an hour.

  “Daria has been upgraded to category 4, which means winds will reach at least one hundred thirty miles per hour or higher. You won’t find me out here when that happens. In fact, I’m getting ready to come in now. And remember, every time that category goes up, the sooner Daria arrives.”

  The camera switched to a Hispanic woman at the anchor desk. “Thank you, Leon. Except for a brief respite for hail and—I can’t believe I’m saying this—snow in July, rain has fallen almost nonstop for fifteen hours. Subway stations are shut down, and area airports have canceled five thousand flights.”

  The broadcast cut to a wide shot of vehicles creeping across the George Washington Bridge.

  “Tunnels are also closed, and there’s been a steady exodus of residents fleeing the city via bridges and thruways. New York State Governor Durick has joined Mayor Krycek in urging people who haven’t already left their homes to stay put.”

  The camera cut to the news anchor again. “The White House has issued a statement that FEMA is standing by to assist residents as needed once the hurricane has passed.”

  Carrie turned to Laurel with deep worry in her eyes. “Jake’s been gone almost an hour and a half. That building isn’t even a ten-minute walk when the weather’s copasetic.”

  “But the weather isn’t copasetic,” Laurel said.

  “It shouldn’t have taken more than an hour to say his piece. He isn’t coming back, is he?”

  Laurel bit her lower lip. “I don’t think so.”

  Carrie stood. “Maybe you should go check things out.”

  Laurel’s heart skipped a beat. That was the next logical step. Or she could always run. “Maybe you’re right.”

  Ripper stood as well. “Forget it.”

  Carrie raised her voice. “Ripper . . .”

  “Save it. Jake said he wants her to stay here, so that’s what she’s doing.”

  “Jake could be dead because of her. She should have gone instead of him.”

  “He made his choice. We’re sitting tight—all of us.”

  Blowing air out of her cheeks, Carrie threw herself into her seat and folded her arms. “Sometimes it’s hard being the smartest person in the room.”

  “Maybe you’re too smart for your own good,” Ripper said.

  “There’s another option,” Laurel said. “We can send someone else after Jake.”

  Standing beside Bernie in the upstairs corridor of Sloane House, Maria expected Alice Morton to answer her condo door. Instead, Shana opened it with the chain lock on and looked up at her from the height of the doorknob.

  Maria’s heart warmed to see the little girl so soon after their brief talk at the playground. “Hi, sweetie.”

  Shana looked at her with fear in her eyes.

  “Shana, you better not be at that door.”

  Maria’s muscles tensed at the sound of Alice’s voice. Shana’s eyes pleaded with her for help.

  Alice’s features filled the space above the chain lock. Frowning at Maria, she pulled Shana back from the door and closed it. “Go get in your room now.” Then she removed the chain lock and opened the door. Unlike most people facing two detectives who had come to their home, she exhibited zero nervousness. “What do y’all want? This is getting to be a habit. I thought I told you to leave me alone.”

  Maria resisted the urge to slap her. “I already explained to you that my previous visit was unofficial, just a friendly call to make sure Shana was okay. This is different. This is official.”

  Alice shifted her gaze to Bernie and her frown deepened. “Is that why you brought super cop?”

  “May we come inside?” Bernie said.

  “No, you may not.” She nodded at Maria. “I don’t want this one anywhere near my niece.”

  “Do you know a man by the name of John Coker?”

  Turning to Maria, Alice made a confused face. Maria knew the woman was just stalling while she decided how to answer.

  “Maybe. I’m really not sure.”

  “I bet you know him by his street handle, Ramses. He’s the gentleman I saw leaving here yesterday. We spoke about him?”

  Alice’s face hardened. “What do you want?”

  Maria took an envelope out of her wet coat and removed a digital print of John Coker dead on a slab in the coroner’s office. Regulations prohibited detectives from showing photos of DOAs taken at the scene of their death to their next of kin, so she and Bernie had waited for the meat wagon to deliver the stiff to its destination, then went there and took the shot. “Mr. Coker’s dead. We can’t track down any next of kin. Will you identify the body?”

  Alice swallowed. “That’s him. What happened?”

  “He was shot in his SUV on Avenue B. Four hoppers working a spot there were killed, as well as three shooters. It was quite the O.K. Corral. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

  “No, I would not. Ramses didn’t deal no drugs. He was a churchgoing man.”

  “Did he stay here last night?” Bernie said.

  “He was here but he didn’t spend the night. He has his own place.”

  “Thanks for identifying his body,” Maria said. “I think you know that I don’t give a shit what happens to you, but I do care what happens to Shana. You better pull some muscle off the street to watch your back.” Turning to Bernie, she nodded to the elevators. “Let’s go.”

  They made to leave.

  “Detective Vasquez.”

  Maria turned back to Alice.

  “Thanks for your condolences.” She closed the door and the detectives boarded an elevator.

  “That was touching,” Bernie said as the elevator

  descended.

  “She already knew Ramses was dead,” Maria said. “She had plenty of time to get into c
haracter for us.”

  Maria’s cell phone rang and she checked the display: Helman Investigations. She debated whether or not to take the call.

  “Who is it?” Bernie said.

  She pressed the Talk button. “What is it, Jake? I’m busy.”

  Bernie rolled his eyes.

  “This is Carrie.”

  “Oh,” Maria said with surprise in her voice. “What do you want? Is Jake all right?”

  “I don’t know. He’s kind of missing.”

  “What?”

  “Just come to the office, okay? Alone. We need your help.”

  “I’m on my way.” Maria ended the call as the elevator reached the ground floor and they got off it.

  “What is it?” Bernie said.

  “Jake might be in trouble.”

  “How unusual.”

  Alice entered the living room, where Kevin Wilmont and Sapo waited.

  “Just a minute,” Alice said. She walked into the hallway and opened Shana’s bedroom door.

  The little girl sat on her bed with her legs straight out, a children’s book open on her lap. Shana looked up at her with expectant eyes.

  “I’ve told you to stay away from that door,” Alice said. “Don’t you ever answer it again. You hear me?”

  Shana nodded.

  “And I’ve told you I don’t want you talking to that

  policewoman.”

  “I didn’t talk to her,” Shana said in a meek voice. “I didn’t even say hello.”

  Alice gave Shana the kind of look she saved for underlings who had won her disapproval. “You’d better be telling me the truth, or it will mean the belt.”

  Shana sat still, saying nothing.

  Alice closed the door and returned to the living room. “Did I tell you to sit down on my new furniture?”

  Kevin jumped to his feet but Sapo took his time. Alice knew she had to watch that one.

  “The police are all over Ramses’s execution.”

  “We heard,” Kevin said.

  Alice held her temper in check. What was she going to do with these ignorant fools? “Here’s something you didn’t hear, smart mouth: they know those shooters were Raheem’s boys.”

  “What you want us to do?” Kevin said.

  “I’m getting to that, if you’ll let me finish. First, I want you to drive around to all our spots and tell our crews to hold their ground. Raheem ain’t taking what’s ours.”

  Kevin and Sapo traded looks.

  “That hurricane will be here in an hour,” Kevin said. “We can’t drive around in that.”

  Alice snorted. “You gonna let a little rain and wind scare you? Are you men or little boys?”

  “I’m just saying, I don’t know why we can’t just call the crew bosses and tell them what you want.”

  “Because they might run like scared rabbits, just like you’re talking about doing. You can bet your motherfucking ass those fiends out there ain’t going to let elements keep them from getting their fixes. They need our product, and that means we have to stay on our corners. If our people walk away because of a little bad weather, Raheem will take them from us without firing a shot. Then we have to take them back when we should be concentrating on taking more corners away from him. You need to show our people that we’re still in control, even without Ramses on the street.”

  Kevin sighed. “So you want us to tell them to stay at work. What if they ask what we’re doing to protect them?”

  Alice stepped closer to him. “You tell them we’re taking care of business, and they better do the same.” She glanced at Sapo, then back at Kevin. Neither one of them was smart enough to fill Ramses’s shoes. “I need y’all to step up and take the slack.”

  “What’s in it for us?” Sapo said.

  Alice looked at him from the corner of her eye. At least he was ambitious. Too bad his eyes were clouded from too much weed. “What do you want, a promotion?”

  Sapo shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “Well, what the fuck do you think this meeting is about? You two been triggermen for Ramses. Now I need you to be my enforcers, like he was. You know what that means? A piece of the pie. But first you gotta prove you’re up to the task.”

  “How?”

  “You do what I say when I say it. You don’t question my authority. If I want your opinion I’ll ask for it, which isn’t damn likely. So without further commentary, take your asses out in that rain and check on my spots. Keep those boys and girls in line.”

  “Can we go inside after that?” Kevin said.

  Alice slapped the back of one hand in the open palm of the other. “This storm’s gonna shut this city down. That means it’s going to shut five-oh down, too. There ain’t gonna be a better time for action.”

  “You want us to take out another one of Raheem’s spots?”

  “Fuck Raheem’s spots. I want you to take him out.”

  Bernie drove downtown with Maria beside him. They crawled at twenty miles an hour with the downpour producing spray on the hood and a cacophony on the roof.

  With near zero visibility, he leaned over the steering wheel. “What time is it?”

  Maria took out her phone. “Ten thirty.”

  “We’ve got half an hour before Daria hits.”

  “I know.”

  “I’d like to be back at the station by then.”

  “It’s a short ride from Jake’s office.”

  Bernie turned onto Twenty-third Street. “Be my

  navigator.”

  Maria lowered her window and squinted in the rain, which slapped her face. “It’s up ahead. Okay, pull over.”

  He did and Maria raised her window.

  “Do you mind waiting while I see what’s up?” she said.

  “Sure, just don’t take your time.”

  Maria stepped out of the car and into a gale force wind that wrapped her raincoat around her hips and legs. She didn’t even bother with her umbrella. The wind snatched the door, which bounced on its hinges so hard she feared it would come off. She had to lean against it to close it, and then she ran for the building.

  A man with white hair and a droopy mustache stood there, dressed in a navy-blue engineer’s uniform. He held the door open and she sprinted into the vestibule. The inside door was propped open behind him.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  He smiled. “You’re welcome. What are you doing outside?”

  “I’m a cop. I’m here to see Jake Helman.”

  “Did he kill someone?”

  She liked his dry demeanor. “I hope not. I’m a friend of his.”

  “He’s up on the fourth floor.”

  “I know. Thanks.” Maria hurried to the elevator, which opened as soon as she pressed the call button. She got on and pushed the button for the fourth floor. What the hell had Jake gotten himself into now? The door opened and she hurried to Jake’s door and rang the bell.

  Ripper opened the door and stepped back from it. “Come on in.” He looked even more like a thug when he wasn’t covered in dust.

  “Thanks, Jeeves.” She entered the suite.

  “Huh?” He closed the door and turned its locks.

  Carrie and Laurel waited for her in the reception area, leaning against the front of Carrie’s desk.

  Maria surveyed the mess. Wind rattled the window, and on the TV, live footage showed enormous waves smashing against the dock at the South Street Seaport, drenching the asphalt around it. Peering down the hall at the open door to Jake’s office, Maria saw his empty desk chair. “Where is he?”

  Carrie and Laurel traded nervous expressions.

  Waving her hand before her face, Maria snapped her fingers three times. “Ladies, come on. I don’t have time for games. Where’s Jake?”

  Laurel pushed herself off the desk. “Can I speak to you alone in Jake’s office?”

  Maria raised her arms and dropped them to her sides. “Sure, why not?”

  Laurel led Maria into the office and Maria closed the door. Outside, the win
d howled.

  “My partner’s waiting for me downstairs, and we’d really like to get out of here before this hurricane hits.”

  Laurel stood before Jake’s desk. “I think it’s too late for that. I’m afraid it is, anyway.”

  Maria crossed the floor and stood before her. “Spit it out. Did your slumber party go awry?”

  “Jake went to the Flatiron Building to see Lilian Kane.”

  “The romance publisher? What does Jake want with her?”

  “Lilian is a witch.”

  Maria blinked.

  “She’s the head of a coven, and I’ve been hiding from her for over two and a half years.”

  “Son of a bitch.”

  “She’s also behind this hurricane.”

  “Get the fuck out of here.”

  “I know what happened on Pavot Island—”

  “Well, isn’t that sweet?”

  “—because I read Jake when he rescued me from Lilian’s mansion yesterday. She’s threatening to turn this city upside down if I don’t turn myself over to her.”

  Maria folded her arms. “So naturally Jake went to talk to her on your behalf.”

  “He wanted to strike a deal with her so she’d stop the hurricane. He said that if Daria hit, we’d know he failed.”

  “What does Lilian Kane want with you?”

  “My body and my identity.”

  “I guess Jake wants the same thing.”

  “Jake isn’t interested in me. Like I said, I read him. I know he only has feelings for you. This isn’t some romantic triangle; I’m just worried about what Lilian will do to him—what she may already have done.” Laurel picked up a hardcover book from Jake’s desk and held it out to Maria. “He got this for you.”

  Maria took the book from her: Love Knows No Lust by Lilian Kane. She opened it to a flowery handwritten inscription:

  Maria,

  You’re a lucky woman. Jake’s got your back. Maybe we’ll meet in person someday.

  Eternally yours,

  Lilian Kane

  When Maria looked up from the book, she noticed Laurel staring across the office. “Is there something in that safe I should know about?”