Dead on Delivery (31 page)

I understood that. “Not so easy to help someone who doesn’t want to be helped, is it?”

She shook her head and gave me a wry smile. “No. It is not. Particularly one who has become so afraid of witchcraft that he cannot discern good from bad or help from evil intent.”

“If it makes you feel any better, he didn’t want my help either.”

“I noticed.” She cocked her head to one side. “Your nose is healing very quickly. The swelling is almost already gone.”

My hands flew up to my face. My nose was still tender, but it didn’t feel like I’d borrowed it from Jimmy Durante anymore. “Good genes,” I said.

“Yes, I sensed that.” Emilia smiled and I could tell she was getting more curious about who and what I was.

“So it’s over now, right? All three boys are dead. Whoever dug up your voodoo dolls got what they wanted and it’s over.” Except for the part that local law enforcement was looking to pin the deaths on yours truly, of course.

“I don’t think so,” Emilia said. “I told you that there are repercussions for using one’s magic for these kinds of purposes. Since my specialty is healing, it’s never been a problem for me before. Now, however, now it’s a problem.”

“The burns and the bug bites on your legs?”

“Yes, and the sense that I am always being followed. I don’t think the boys’ deaths will make those things go away. They might just make them worse. Also, remember how you said you didn’t like being used?”

I nodded.

“I am not exactly wild about it myself. Someone used me. Someone used my skill. Someone used my magic. I don’t know why. To me, these deaths are senseless. Yes, I hated what these boys did and what they stood for, but they had been punished and I knew that they would have to live their lives with the knowledge of what they had done. I myself cannot imagine that kind of torture, to have to look every day into the mirror and know I was the kind of person who would beat an innocent young man to death merely because I didn’t like the color of his skin. But to kill them? And in such a way? It makes no sense to me. No sense at all.”

I looked over at Ted and he looked back at me. “Somebody wanted those boys dead. It shouldn’t be that hard to figure out who.”

“You can’t be poking your nose into things down here, Melina. Chief Murdock has a serious hard-on for you. She will bust you if you so much as jaywalk,” Ted said.

“So I won’t jaywalk.” I shrugged, trying to look more nonchalant than I felt.

“This is serious, Melina.” He gave me a hard stare.

“I’m aware.” I stared right back.

He sighed, some of the starch leaving his shoulders. “Leave it alone.”

“You know I can’t.” I put my hand on his arm.

“I don’t know any such thing. Right now, no one has brought any charges against you. We can get in my truck, pick up your car, drive back to Sacramento and pretend that none of this ever happened.” He put his hand over mine.

“But it did happen.”

“I know that, Melina, but you’re making my head hurt.”

Emilia broke in. “It’s late. Why don’t we all get a good night’s sleep? I have plenty of room here. There’s no need for you to drive back tonight. It’s been a long day.”

She was right. I had no desire to get in my car and drive back. I looked over at Ted, ready to do whatever he wanted. See how good I am at compromise?

He nodded. “Fine. It would be safer if we got some rest before we drove back.”

IT WASN’T DAWN YET WHEN AN INSISTENT BEEP BEEP BEEPING woke me. I spent a few seconds trying to figure out where I was. Emilia Aguilar’s house. Then I looked around to see what might be beeping. I can see pretty well in the dark. It wasn’t anything in the room. It was coming from the hall.

I slipped out of bed and walked toward the door. That’s when I smelled it. Smoke. The beeping was a smoke alarm. I shook Ted awake.

“Ted. Something’s wrong. I think . . . I think the house might be on fire.”

Apparently, saying something like that is not the kindest, gentlest way to wake a man from peaceful slumber. Ted exploded out of the bed. He jumped into his jeans and raced to the door.

He stopped and rested his face against the door, feeling the doorknob. “It’s not hot. We can get out,” he said.

“What about Emilia?” I asked, pulling on clothes.

“We’ll get her out, too, but first we have to make sure we have a way out.” He shook the pillows out of the pillowcases, ducked into the bathroom that connected to the room and the other small bedroom on the other side, ran them under the faucet and handed me one.

I looked at him questioningly.

“To cover your face with, in case there’s a lot of smoke. Stay low, okay. And, Melina”—he took me by the shoulders and looked into my eyes—“please stay with me.”

I nodded.

“Grab my belt,” he said.

I did and he opened the door. The smoke was thick and getting thicker. I put the pillowcase over my mouth and nose, and we headed into the hall.

Ted ducked down and I ducked with him. We went down the hall and into the living room. The smoke was getting thicker by the second. I could see the source. It was coming from the kitchen. The kitchen that was between the living room and the master bedroom, where Emilia was sleeping.

I started that way. Ted grabbed me, shook his head and steered us both out the back door onto the porch.

I gasped in air and whirled around. “We have to go back in. We have to get Emilia.”

Ted grabbed me. “Not from in there. Which one’s her room? Let’s see if we can get her from out here.”

I looked around and pointed. “That end of the house.”

We ran around the porch. A door opened onto the back deck. It had to be from Emilia’s bedroom. I grabbed the doorknob. It didn’t turn. It was locked from the inside.

Ted pushed me behind him. “Stay back.” He kicked the door. It gave a little but didn’t open.

“Let me,” I said.

He shot me a look. I doubt it’s easy to have a girlfriend who has certain strengths, or lots of strength, actually. It’s probably especially not easy when you’re the kind of guy who generally rescues everyone else. There wasn’t time at the moment to pander to anyone’s ego, though. I could hear the flames crackling and the heat from the house was rising.

He gave way. “Fine. I’ll call in the fire.”

The flying sidekick took me months to master and probably a year or more to perfect. It’s not an easy kick to do well. There’s also not much call for it. It’s a flashy kick, not much good in a fight. You’re vulnerable when you’re in the air. You might use it to finish off an opponent once you knew you had them where you wanted them. It would be a little demoralizing. It would, however, be perfect for smashing in this door.

I backed up, took a few running steps, launched myself off my left leg and bunched my right leg up to my chest. I thrust my right leg out when I reached the peak of my jump, hitting the door with my heel. It exploded inward. I landed in a crouch.

Ted rushed through the door ahead of me. Seconds later, he was hauling Emilia’s still body out through the door onto the porch.

“Is she . . . ?” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Was I too late again? Had another person died while I stood by, impotent to help?

“She’s alive, but she’s inhaled a lot of smoke. We have to get her away from the house.” Ted barely stopped to explain as he hauled Emilia away from the thickening smoke.

I heard the sirens coming. “Help’s on the way.”

Ted glanced at me. “Sirens?”

I nodded.

He laid her down in the grass. Her eyes fluttered open and she tried to sit up but fell back on the grass. “What happened?” her voice was hoarse. Her hand went first to her throat and then to her head.

“There’s a fire,” I said, feeling like I was stating the obvious.

“My house?” Again, Emilia tried to sit up. This time she was more successful. Her hands flew to her heart. “My house.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said. I looked over my shoulder. The sirens were getting closer, but the flames were moving quickly. They’d better get here quick or it was going to end up spreading to the other houses.

Tears began to trail through the soot on Emilia’s cheeks. “Where will I go? What will I do?”

“We’ll figure something out,” Ted said. He headed out to the street to meet the firefighters as they arrived. I heard them ask if everyone was out and a few other questions.

“It’s my own fault. I brought it on myself.” She began to weep.

Wasn’t that true about pretty much all of our own troubles? In this case, though, not entirely. “With a little help from someone else,” I reminded her.

She sat with that for a second. “It doesn’t change the circumstances. Where do I go now? What do I do?”

“Have you ever slept on a futon couch before?” I asked.

 

 

IT WAS A FEW MORE HOURS BEFORE WE COULD LEAVE ELMVILLE. The paramedics had to check us over. The fire chief had a question or two. But it still wasn’t quite light yet when we left what was left of Emilia’s home. It wasn’t pretty. It looked and smelled as bad as Kurt Rawley’s house had.

“Looks like something was left on the stove,” the fire chief told Emilia.

“No,” she said. “That’s not possible. I didn’t leave anything on.”

He looked uncomfortable. “Well, now, people sometimes forget. Maybe they put a kettle on for tea. Or maybe they start something for the next day. They walk away and forget. Especially if, well, maybe they’ve had a drink or two.”

“I wasn’t drunk. I didn’t leave anything cooking on the stove.” Emilia’s jaw clenched.

I didn’t blame her. I was also pretty darn certain that she hadn’t left anything on the stove. I’d watched her shut the kitchen down. If something had burned on the stove, it wasn’t because of her forgetfulness and neglect. Arguing with the fire chief at that moment, however, was getting us nowhere. “Come on, Emilia,” I said. “Let’s go.”

“Listen to your friend,” the chief said. “Be grateful you got out alive. This was a nasty one. I’m not sure I’ve seen one of these houses go up this fast. You’re lucky you got out when you did.”

Emilia started to open her mouth. While I don’t generally have a good sense as to when to keep my own mouth shut, I do often recognize when other people should stop talking. I grabbed her and said, “Let’s go. I’m hungry and tired and I smell bad. I want to go home.”

She followed me reluctantly.

“Can we at least please stop at Rosalinda’s house? She should know what happened and that I’m okay and where I’m going. She’ll see the house and worry. She lives just a mile or so that way.” Emilia pointed west.

“Of course,” I said. We piled into Ted’s truck and Emilia directed us through the streets to her
mentora
’s home.

Dawn was just breaking as we arrived. A few birds chirped in the streets as the light began to stream over the horizon. Ted pulled the truck over. Just as Emilia started to get out, I noticed movement by the front door.

“Wait,” I said. “Get down.”

Not many people leave their homes right at dawn. A few runners I know, but they’re certifiably insane. Generally, people slipping out of doors at the crepuscular times of day are hoping not to be noticed.

Whoever was leaving Rosalinda’s home was a big person, definitely male and without a shred of magic to him. I squinted in the dim light. He looked familiar. I’d definitely seen him before.

It took me a few seconds, but it finally dawned on me. It was Neil Bossard’s brother, the one who’d caught me in Neil’s room trying to fish the voodoo doll out from underneath the bed. The one who’d gotten me thrown out of Bossard’s memorial service. The one who’d gotten me hauled back into Chief Murdock’s office. The one who’d told Kurt Rawley’s mother to make a police report about my being in her house. And, last but not least, the one who’d tried to beat the crap out of me and told me to stay away from Elmville.

The one whose parents had spent all their money trying to keep his older brother out of jail.

As we watched, a woman came out. She was wrapped in a bathrobe, but not one of those dorky terrycloth ones or even one of those flannel zip-up-the-front ones that my mother gives me for Hanukkah. This was more of a slinky negligee-type of bathrobe. She danced out barefoot and caught Drew Bossard by the shoulder. He turned and took her in his arms and gave her the kind of kiss that makes a promise to a woman.

“E w w w w w w!” Ted and I said in unison.

Emilia said nothing.

“Do you know who the kid is?” Ted whispered.

“It’s Neil Bossard’s brother.”

“What the hell is he doing here?”

“I have some guesses.”

“Me, too,” Emilia said. “Way too many.”

 

 

WE RODE OUT OF TOWN AS SOON AS WE WERE SURE BOSSARD’S brother was gone and Rosalinda was safely back in her house. I have to say, I was pretty glad to see Elmville in my rearview mirror. I had a bad feeling that I’d be back, though, and much sooner than either I or Chief Murdock wanted me to be.

“How are you going to explain her to Norah?” Ted asked, gesturing to where Emilia slept in the backseat.

“What’s to explain? She’s a friend who needed someplace to stay. Norah would take in every stray on the block if she could.” I fiddled with the heat. I can never seem to get it exactly where I want it. It’s either blasting so much heat that I can feel my eyeballs start to dry out or I’m freezing.

“A cursed friend.” Ted pointed out.

True enough. “I wasn’t necessarily going to lead with that.”

“Norah’s not stupid. She’s going to figure it out when there’s an infestation of cockroaches or the apartment catches fire.” He slapped my hand away from the temperature controls and set it himself.

“We’ll figure out what Rosalinda and Drew are up to before that happens,” I said, with much more confidence than I actually felt.