Linda Welch - A conspiracy of Demons (28 page)

“What is this place?”

“It was a base of operations during the fifty-year war,” Royal said.

Robert Pride
filled
the monitor. I
n a small, square room of
shining gray
walls an
d floor, h
e sat
on a metal chair,
at a metal table,
handcuffs
attached to a metal
staple
in the tabletop.
Another chair faced him on the opposite side of the table.

“I
t looks like
most
every police interview room I’ve ever seen.”

Royal looked at me sideways.
“Where do you think they got the idea?”

My gaze shot to him. “You’re kidding me.”

A slight smile stretched his lips. “Yes, I am . . . kidding.”

I stared at Pride, sucked in a slow breath then exhaled a
s slowly. “Okay, can we do this
?”

He grasped my shoulders and turned me to face him. “Are you sure
?
You do not have to.”

“You already said that.” I forced a grin I didn’t feel like producing. “I want to get to the bottom of this, I
have
to.”

“I am only feet away.”

Nerves shiver
ed over my back
. Did Pride know who
murdered
Lynn?
Maybe finding
the killer
was not impossible after all.
“Then let’s get it over with.”

Royal
nodded at the guard, who opened the door
. I walked in. The door closed behind me.

The room
felt sterile, lacking the stale—
sweat smell of a precinct interview room.
Lead lined the walls, floor, ceiling and door. Lead muffles a Gelpha’s senses, effectively blocking them from knowing what is
occurring
on the other side.
Cice
ro used it in his mountain lair
so no other Gelpha detected their brethren confined in small, barren cells
deep in the mountain
.

The slick gray surface made me want to shiver, but I suppressed it.

Did
Gelpha interrogate their enemies in here during the fifty-year war? Did the lead walls effectively
mute
words and sounds
so those who lived in the High House heard nothing
?

Bob Pride’s
charcoal-gray hair
shimmered like a wet seal’s coat and
silver glittered in
his
dark eyes
as he looked up at me
.
H
is full lips quirked
.
His voice was a low drawl.
“Miss Tiffany Banks, we meet at last. I have heard so much about you.”

Tiffany.
He would have gone on my shit list right then
were he not
already
there
. I grasped the chair, but it was bolted to the floor
like the table
, so I stepped to the side and eased onto the seat. “You
asked to speak
to me, Mr. Pride.”

“
I seem to recall asking for you
.”

“D
id you bring me here to tell me w
hy you kill
ed
Lynn Summers?”
I laid one forearm over the other and leaned on the table.

“I did not kill her.”

“No, not personally. Your Dark Cousin pals did it for you. How did that work?”

“
Dark Cousins? Cousins don’t casually murder humans
.
”

“
I see nothing casual about it. What I don’t see is why Gelpha and Cousins worked together to get rid of
-
”

I forgot what I was about to say.
His eyes were still dark, but warm
. A flush like
the cozy heat off a pot-belli
ed stove ran over me. My shoulders relaxed, my entire body loosened. After the tension of the past few days, to
bathe
in this man’s warmth felt so good.

I studied his face, savoring every feature. His
lips parted. Warm, moist -
how would they taste?

Crap!
The second
after
my gaze left his eyes and rested on his lips, the warmth fled and a chill swept me.
I
ha
d
forgot
ten
Gelpha allure and looked
in
his eyes,
and he’d
worked his mojo on me.

He lifted his head and laughed. When it died after one last chuckle, he s
aid, “Human women are so easy.”

His expression hardened;
he stared at me with
the
kind of loathing I reserve for child molesters and animal abusers
.

I felt the color
leave
my face, but
I gathered myself together and spoke with a tight jaw. “
Why did you have Lynn killed
?
Because she knew what you are? Law enforcement wouldn’t
believe
her
, nobody would
.
”

He sneered. “The police were not a concern. The Press, however, were. I was n
ot born
in
your world. M
y records and credentials are
excellent, but they are
fake
s
. News
hounds are relentless during an election year.”

He let me fill in the blanks. Reporters would have dug and dug deep and not given up w
hen they came to a dead end if they smelled scandal. A man with no past had to be hiding something. They couldn’t possibly conclude Pride came f
rom another dimension, but they’d
make life difficult fo
r the good R
e
presentative
. Who knows, maybe a public kerfuffle would have been too much for the Hig
h House and they woul
d make him step down
to avoid more probing into his background
.

I dry—
swallowed. “You killed a woman to save your career.”

“
The stupid bitch marched
in
my office and told me to resign or she’d tell the world.”

I began to lose it.
A
nger f
illed
my chest so I wanted to gasp for breat
h. I pressed my arm to my side and felt
the Ruger in its holster snugged beneath my armpit.

“You want to hurt me, don’t you.” He smiled to show his pointed teeth. “You want to pull your gun and pistol-whip me.”

My voice
shook
with the strength of my feelings
.
“If
I
reach for
my gun, I’ll shoot you.”

I had to
finish this
, or
completely
lose control
. “
Tell me about the Dark Cousins.”

“You’re as inane as your little friend.” Pride’s eyes narrowed. “We’re through here. Leave.”

I blinked and jogged my head i
n reaction to his venomous tone.
“Why did you ask to speak to me?”

His li
ps turned down in a sneer
. “It is of no matter now. I changed my mind.”

“
Tell me one thing, w
here can I find her body?”

His fist thudded the table
. “I said go.”

I
slid off the chair.
I couldn’t wait to get away from him
.

Behind me, as I reached for the door handle,
the so
und of metal snapping.
I felt
like
I moved in slow motion as
I twisted with both hands thrust
unde
r my jacket
for the
Ruger
.

Broken c
uffs dangling from his wrists, Bob stepped up on the chair, the table, and
used it like a diving board to launch his body at me,
a tall, black
shape
soaring
across the room.

We sat on chairs against the wall.
I held my hands palm down above my knees, watching them
,
trying to stop them shaking. A shudder spasmed up my back.
The sickly sweet smell of blood
burned in
my nostrils, I tasted the metallic tang on my tongue.

Royal tried to put his arm
along
my shou
lders but I shrank away.

“He wanted me to kill him,” I said, the words
staccato with
anger. “He knew, once you took him in that room, you’d do whatever it took to get the truth
from
him.”
I pictured the lead-lined room
from which no sound
escape
d
. “He couldn’t overpower more than one of you, and he faced the Cousin’s anger if he gave up his secrets. Wha
t would they have done to him?”

I bit down on my lower lip.
I couldn’t blank out the image of Bob Pride crashing at my feet wit
h
a bullet hole in his forehead.

The
shades
of violently slain Gelpha
seem to have their own rules.
They are not bound to linger until their killer dies.
Some
pass over
a few minutes
after death, others
remain
far longer. Pride’s shade was of the former variety. It
rose and
shredded like smoke blown in the wind.
Maybe I had time to ask my questions again before he faded, but I was too stunned to think of it, and I doubt his shade would have been more cooperative.

“So he said he’d tell you everything after he spoke to me, but he knew it wouldn’t get that far. He knew if he attacked me, I’d defend myself the only way I can against someone stronger and faster.”

Pride
detested
me because h
e knew I was going to kill him.

I got up and strode a few pa
ces away. “What are we gonna do
, Royal? Pride’s dead. We have nothing. The Cousins are still out there.”

Royal stood. “Let me hold you, Tiff.”

“No,” I hissed. “Why do you always think
putting
your hands on me makes everything better?”

At his expression, t
he hurt in his eyes
, my heart plummeted
.
That was unfair
. Our hands were made to touch each other. I knew it e
ach time we came together after an absence, his cheek against mine,
our arms wrapped around each other,
skin to skin and body to body
, both erotic and soothing
.

But I didn’t want to be
soothed
.
A man used me to end his life. I felt lower than dirt and angry as hell.

“Do you think only women need the support of another’s arms, a shoulder to lean on?” he said softly. “I need you, Tiff.
”

Oh God. I am such a bitch.
I whirled into his arms as they spread to encompass me.

We clung
and gently rocked.
He
knew I needed his arms around me even though I
tried to deny
it.

Bob Pride’s
murder
in
his hotel r
oom made sensational headlines, augmented when the coroner found the slug had been removed from his forehead.
Hotel security footage showed nothing and techs decided it had been tampered with,
though
they
couldn’t figure out how. Accusations flew, conspiracy theories abounded, including that
aliens
assassinated
him
. I guess they were
no
t far
from
wrong.

Although the story still came up on page five or six in newspapers and
occasionally
on a few station
s
,
t
he furor died down after a
week
, eclipsed by news
the public
found more fascinating, like an actress
entering
rehab for the third time
and The Bachelor’s choice
dumping
him at the last minute.

The novelty factor of R
usty’s
belated
co
nfession warranted mention in three
national papers and had more coverage in our local newspaper.
As I predicted, Rusty was released on bail. His trial was set for February.

Royal and I agreed life had to go back to normal,
or as normal as it got for us.

“Perhaps it is over. With Pride dead, the Cousins have no reason to come after us.” Royal said.

But all the dangling threads
tickled
me.
Getting
back to working other cases
felt good
, but I couldn’t
let
Lynn’s go.
It was to
o big and sometimes I thought
dwelling on it so much would send me over the edge
.
Gelpha in politics, Gelpha and Cousins working together, Cousins killing my friend
then coming after me and Royal -
it blew my mind
.

Audrie’s
Family Restaurant
is
so familiar it has become a
comfort zone. I ha
ve been th
ere so often that other regular patrons
smile and say hello when I walk in.
The seats in the booths sag in
the middle and the padding is
compacted by time and buttocks
so
that
even a person of average height sits lower than they are used to.
Most of the waitresses – I
have never seen a waiter there
– have worked there for twenty-something years, they wear support hose, too much makeup and call diners “honey.” You w
ill no
t find young college kids working or eating there. It’s not a hotspot for the younger generation.

I relish
the smell of frying food and strong coffee, the coziness in winter when all the windows are steamed up, the coolness in summer when huge ceiling fans whir overhead, the clatter and chatter of patrons and staff. Most of all, I
adore
the food.

I felt kind of weird
as I sat at a corner table
, as if I should
no
t enjoy
this marvelous breakfast when
a fri
end recently died, I shot a man
and
Otherworldy killers
could swoop down on Royal and me at any moment. But I savored the food nonetheless. Maybe I had last-meal syndrome, if there is such a thing
, and I do
no
t mean
only
the breakfast
. You know - make the most of what you have in case you never experience it again.

Should I take breakfast to Royal where he sat in h
is truck on a stakeout? Nah, he had
probably loaded up on donuts.

I chewed a
slice
of bacon as I smeared
two
little tubs of grape jelly on half of my English muffin
. But the bacon
wadded
in my mouth
as I felt something large occupy the space behind me. And I noticed a hush in the immediate vicinity.

I lo
oked over my shoulder, and up. Two large Hispanic me
n in dark suit
s
over white singlet
s
stood behind me
. T
hick,
blue-black
hair
in braids dangled
over
their
shoulder
s
. Tattoos covered
their
neck
s
to the chin and peeped from cuffs to run over the backs of
their
hands.
Their
large, dark eyes under thick brows regarded me sternly.

With legs slightly splayed and hands clasped at
their
waists, they looked like bodyguards, which is exactly what they were.

“Miss Banks. Do you mind if I join you?”

My head whipped back to the table.
I swallowed. The bacon stuck, I start
ed coughing and couldn’t stop.
I choked
and whooped for air.
The small, stout lady who
st
ood
across the table
nodded at
the me
n
.
Diners watched, probably hoping to see the big guy
s
perform the Heimlich
maneuver
on me. Instead,
one
walloped me on the
back with the flat of his hand.

That did it. Happily, I got my hand
up and
caught
the bacon in my palm
. Thank God it didn’t
shoot
over the table
and nail Senora Labiosa
in the face
.

“Are you all right, dear?”

I jerked my chin. My voice came out hoarse. “Hello
Senora.
So you eat at Audrie’s?
”

Margot Labiosa smiled.
“The
second—
best place in town for breakfast.”

“Second-best?”

“After my kitchen.”

One of her men hurried around the table to help divest her of her blue wool coat and hang it over the chair-back. He pulled
out
the chair, and
then in a perfectly timed move
shoved it back
in
to catch her descending
derriere
.

A waitress, Jennifer, h
ustled over. As I stared, flabbergasted,
Margot
ordered a mushroom omelet and
whole—
wheat toast
. “And a large orange juice,” she added.

Jennifer rushed to the kitchen. Margot
turned her coffee cup up the right way and another waitress appeared like magic to fill it.

I sipped
my
coffee
as I tried
to keep my hackles down. I was not naïve where th
e Labiosa were concerned. Gerarc
o Labiosa was
the
power in the Latino quarter and his wife
did not eat
breakfast with me
because she saw
someone she knew in the restaurant and deciding to join them. I doubted Audrie’s
numbered among
her favorite haunts.

She
found me
for a reason.

H
er iron-gray hair
fashioned
in
a bun atop her head, Senora Labiosa wore a long-sleeved
primrose blouse with frills on the cuffs and a gray, pleated c
alf-length skirt. She poured a generous amount of sugar in her coffee, stirred, then unfolded her napkin and arranged it on her lap. “How are you, Miss Banks?”

“I’m fine, great. And you?”

“I
am well.” She sipped her coffee and put the cup
back on the table.

“And Senor Labiosa?”

She squinched her
face. “He is a foolish old man,” then
hunched her shoulders
, “b
ut at his age, he has earned the right to be foolish.”

Gerarc
o Labiosa foolish? I wanted to laugh. The man was hard as
nails and although officially
retired
,
held the Latino community in the palm of his hand.

“He has in mind we should
move
to Florida. One of those fancy retirement communities. I tell him, I have lived in Clarion all my life, I will die in Clarion.”

What could I say? Nothing.

“Please, don’t let your breakfast get cold,” she said with a chin-nod at my plate.

I bit into my muffin, which had gone cold and chewy. But if Senora Labiosa told me to eat,
I ate
.

Her omelet arrived fast enough
that
I knew her order h
ad gone to the front of the line
. She
spoke to her men, accompanied with
a gentle smile. “You can wait outside.”

“The
y’re good boys,” she told me as
they walked out.
They stood under the porch,
either side of the entrance.

“I’m sure.”

My discomfort
escalated
as she demolished a quarter of her omelet with quick, neat bites. Then she laid her silverware down. “I have a message for you from a mutual friend.”

We didn’t have mutual friends. Tension spiked at the base of my neck. “Who?”

She ignored my question. “He says, dig deeper. Look at the broader picture.”

“
Um
.
”

“You understand.” She bowed over the table and fixed me with a penetrating gaze. “
Our friend will be in great danger i
f you share his message
with anyone
but your partner
.”

I opened my mouth
to speak
and it hung open as I realized the identity of the friend. It could only be
Rio Borrego, Gia Sabato’s lover.
Although he left gang life long ago, the Labiosa thought of him fondly. He was still family. I went to Gerarco
and Margot
Labiosa for i
nformation when Rio disappeared
and
they
encouraged
me
to find him. Rio was the only acquaintance the Labiosa and I had in common.

Senora Labiosa put a twenty-dollar bill on the table, stood,
and
took her coat off the chair-back
. She came around the table, leaned down and said in confidential tones, “Above all, do not reveal your source. I will be . . . chagrined . . . if an
ything happens to that boy.”

She straightened,
nodded at me
meaningfully
and walked out of the restaurant.

Running after her and probing for more information would get me nowhere.

I dropped my mangled muffin on the plate.
Dig deeper. Look at the broader picture.

Dig deeper
into
what
?
Think, Tiff. Think
Okay. I
f I needed to dig
deeper
,
obvio
usly this
must
about something I was already
involved in. Robert Pride and the Cousin
s
. But
Pride
was dead.

Rio lived with a Dark Cousin,
the love of
his
life. Dark Cousins killed Lynn and I woul
d bet my best socks they did it so questions
would not
be asked about Bob Pride. Dark Cousins and Gelpha working together was an ugly concept.

I needed to talk this over with Royal.
I hooked
my cell from
my back pocket and dialed his number
.

H
e picked up on the second ring
tone. “Did you enjoy brunch?”

“Ye
s and n
o. Are you through with Mrs. Donnelly
’s thing
?”

“Yes. It’s straightforward.
Her daughter-in-law
is
indeed
cheating on her son.
I need a few more photos and we are done.
”