Eye of the Burning Man: A Mick Callahan Novel (The Mick Callahan Series) (31 page)

"But what actually happened to Agent Fields?"

"I called Fancy a couple of days ago," I said. "I asked him to have us tailed from a distance. He put his best people on it. Then I called him again from the desert just a while ago. I told him that Donny Boy had murdered Mary, and what I had started to suspect about Jack Fields. I promised him we would look the other way."

We drove on through the blackest of nights, only half aware of the spectacle still going on behind us, shrinking into the distance as red fire roared up to heaven. Loco began saying a rosary under his breath.

Darlene suddenly caught on. She shuddered. "Oh, my God."

I glanced in the mirror. The red and orange flames had finally reached the eye of the Burning Man.

Jerry drove on in silence, finally shook his head. "I still don't get it. So where the hell
is
Agent Fields?"

I looked back at the giant burning effigy. The fire had consumed it and the crowd was shrieking in ecstasy.

"Fancy's boys got him. My best guess is that he is somewhere up in that thing with a gag in his mouth, and that they're going to need dental records to identify him."

"They think they got it all." I put the telephone down and crossed my arms. I felt dazed, but happy. "Hal is going to pull through."

She took my hand, tugged and led me back to where we'd been lying. I stretched out flat and sighed. This was pretty close to heaven on earth. I counted my blessings—a littered dinner table with melting candles, an empty bottle of non-alcoholic champagne; plus an old gray cat purring nearby, a fireplace with a nice fat log sizzling in it, and some cool jazz playing on the radio.

"Damn, that feels good," I sighed.

"It's supposed to."

Darlene poured some more warm oil onto her hands and continued to massage my aching muscles. She chuckled. "Did you see that little girl who finally broke Loco's birthday
piñata
?"

"She was really excited."

"When she took off the blindfold and saw all that candy, I thought she'd jump right out of her party dress."

"She was damned cute. Do you think Loco had fun?"

"He seemed pretty happy. I know Blanca was." Darlene fell silent. "Mick?"

"Yeah?"

"How do you think that boy will turn out, after what he's been through?"

I thought for a long moment. "Loco is a brave boy, Darlene. Still, it's hard to say. From what I hear, the family has managed to keep things pretty quiet around the neighborhood. They also agreed to let him see that therapist that I recommended, the one who specializes in child sexual abuse. She's the best, and Hal said he'd pay for it indefinitely."

"He's a sweetheart."

"Yes, he is."

"Still, the poor kid . . ."

I rolled over, pulled her head down and kissed her nose. "Jerry came from foster care. I grew up with alcoholism and physical abuse. You were sexually molested."

"And your point would be . . . ?"

"You turned out okay," I said, trying to lighten things up. "One out of three ain't bad."

"I'm serious."

"Okay, I know you are, but the truth is only time will tell. I think he's got a good shot, let's put it that way."

The jazz song faded and a commercial spot began. One candle on the dinner table hissed and then sputtered into smoke. Darlene smiled as I stroked her bare skin.

"You're beautiful."

The phone shrieked, startling us both. I groaned and rolled over, scratching my sore elbows on the shag carpet. I answered it on the third ring.

"Hello?"

"Mick? It's Leyna. Leyna Barton. Have I caught you at a bad time?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Can I try again tomorrow?"

"Don't bother." I broke the connection, left the phone off the hook, and rolled over again.

"Who was that?" Darlene asked.

"Wrong number."

The commercial spot came to an end, a station ID played and then the tape of an earlier show resumed. When my voice came over the radio, I was still talking animatedly about wanting to find a good, workable definition of love.

"Listen to that bullshit," I said, wearily. "Somebody could almost believe I know what the hell I'm talking about."

Darlene kissed my broken nose. "Sometimes you do," she said. "Sometimes you do."