Red (34 page)
Chapter 40
I awoke with a jolt and looked around the room in a panic, trying to figure out where the hell I was. I untangled myself from the unfamiliar sheets, throwing them off me and lunging from the bed. Then the horrors of the previous night came rushing back to me—the blood, the death, the fear, the sorrow. But then the aftermath of the bloodbath at Nicky Blue’s home came back to me, and I couldn’t help smiling.
Nate
.
.
I located the bathrobe I’d worn briefly the night before and pulled it on, tying the belt around my waist as I made my way into the living room. I heard the unmistakable sound of a coffee grinder and felt a whole new rush of love for the man.
“Hey ya, Red,” he greeted as I entered the kitchen. “Sorry if I woke you.”
“Wasn’t you,” I assured him, coming up behind him where he stood at the stove. I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my cheek against his bare back. “Good morning.”
“You mean evening.” He glanced over his shoulder and gave me wink. “You’ve been asleep all day.”
My eyes went wide. “Seriously? I never sleep that long.” And I sure as hell had never slept at the home of one of my lovers. But I didn’t know if I was quite ready to divulge to Nate that he was the only man who’d been able to keep me at his side until morning, the only man whose arms had ever held me through the night.
Nate turned off the burner and set aside the frying pan of sautéed veggies, then turned around and pulled me closer, tucking me under his chin. “Yeah? Well, you had a pretty rough night.”
My arms tightened around him. “It wasn’t all bad.”
He smoothed my hair, then dropped a kiss on the top of my head. “If you want to get dressed, we can head in to headquarters, fill out all the paperwork to get a warrant for Caliban. The hospital said he’s starting to improve, so we should be able to take him into custody officially in the next day or two.”
I nodded. “What about Seth? We can’t leave him sitting in prison when we know he’s innocent. His hearing is tomorrow.”
“Already taken care of,” Nate assured me.
My head snapped up. “What? When?”
“I called Mary Smith first thing this morning while you were still sleeping,” he confessed. “She filed for Seth’s release immediately.”
“Thanks,” I said with a grin, then pressed a kiss to his chest. “You have a good heart, Nate Grimm.”
Nate’s laughter rumbled deep in his chest. “Good thing, ’cause it’s all yours, sweetheart.”
Now, how could I not kiss him after a comment like that? And he kissed me back with such deliberate sultriness, I was ready to go in an instant. And, considering the hard length pressing against my belly, so was he. Nate was just pushing the bathrobe from my shoulders, when the familiar strains of Combichrist’s “Red” startled me, making me jump.
“What the hell?” I muttered. “That’s my ring tone.”
“Elizabeth had your things delivered here this morning,” Nate explained, trying to press a kiss to my throat, but I pushed him back and pegged him with a suspicious glare.
“How’d she know I was here?”
“I called her this morning, too,” Nate said, pulling the bathrobe back up on my shoulders with a sigh. “I thought you’d want her to know you were okay before she heard anything about what happened with Sebille.”
I blinked up at him. “I honestly hadn’t even thought of that,” I admitted. “But thanks. I should call Gran, too. She’s probably going out of her mind with worry!” I turned to where my belongings were piled up on his kitchen table, but Nate grabbed my hand and kept me from rushing toward it.
“I talked to Gran last night after I collected Jules,” he assured me. “I figured she’d hear about it as soon as Nicky’s people got a call. Eddie’s Nicky’s emergency contact.”
I stared at him for a few seconds, wondering how I’d never before noticed what an unbelievable guy he was. And, apparently, he was now
my
guy.
my
guy.
How cool was that?
My eyes were ridiculously blurry when I stepped forward and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. “Thanks,” I said when the kiss ended. “I’m glad you brought me here.”
Nate’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Me, too. Trust me.”
I laughed, grateful for some much needed levity, and swatted at his arm. “Come on,” I called over my shoulder as I headed toward the bedroom. I paused at the door and turned back around. “The sooner we get going, the sooner we can get back home.”
Nate’s brows lifted. “Yeah?”
I gave him a wink, then went into the bedroom. As I got in the shower, I heard the rattling of the frying pan and running water in the kitchen. And when I emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later, Nate was impatiently pacing his living room, fully dressed and wearing his hat and coat.
He gathered my clothes and held them out to me. “I thought we could grab some coffee and bagels on the way.”
Nate gave me a quick kiss, then headed off down the hall to request the warrant for Caliban’s arrest while I went looking for Trish. Seeing as how our murderer was lying on a gurney in the makeshift morgue, the results of Trish’s investigation didn’t really matter anymore, but I was still curious about a few things. Besides, Trish had been so shaken up at the crime scene, I wanted to see how she was doing.
Unfortunately, when I got to the conference room where she’d set up her temporary lab, she wasn’t there. Frowning, I backed out into the hall, wondering where she might be. Hell, it
was
Sunday—maybe they’d released her from protective custody and she’d gone home to finally get some sleep.
was
Sunday—maybe they’d released her from protective custody and she’d gone home to finally get some sleep.
“Hello, Red.”
I felt my skin ripple with irritation and had to make a concerted effort not to snarl when I said, “Mary. If you came to give me shit about what happened last night—”
“I didn’t even know you were here,” Mary interrupted. “I was looking for Trish.”
I eyed the prosecutor warily. “That makes two of us. What do
you
want with her?”
you
want with her?”
“She gathered a sample of genetic material and magical residue from Sebille Fenwick’s body at the crime scene,” Mary said. “I was hoping to get the results as soon as possible.”
“Does it matter?” I asked, slightly annoyed that she’d be bothering Trish on a Sunday, demanding to know answers. My conscience gave me a little tap on the shoulder.
Hello, pot, meet kettle....
Hello, pot, meet kettle....
To my surprise, Mary actually squirmed a little at my question. “Imperative, as it turns out. Sebille’s body has disappeared.”
I gaped at her. “What?”
“Without the body,” Mary continued, “I’ll need Trish’s test results for my case against Caliban.”
I frowned. “Who would have taken Sebille’s body?”
Mary squirmed a little more, making me uneasy. She wasn’t the squirming type. She was cool, calm, and collected—completely unflappable. “No one,” she said, looking embarrassed by the answer. “She just vanished. The security tapes show her there on the gurney one moment and then gone the next.”
“Huh.” I turned away, my brows drawing together as I tried to process this unexpected development.
“Red?”
I halted with a huff. “Seriously, Mary, I’m not in the mood—”
“I was sorry to hear about Juliet,” she said, cutting me off. “She was a good woman. It’s a tragedy.”
I blinked at her. “Yeah, it is. I guess some of us can never quite escape our unhappy endings, can we?”
“I hope Nicky pulls through.”
I narrowed my eyes a little. “Thanks. I hope so, too.”
“If you need anything—”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I broke in, cutting through the bullshit. “You hate my guts. You piss me off every chance you get. So why are you suddenly being so . . .
nice
?”
nice
?”
Mary sighed. “I saw the photos,” she said. “I heard what happened, what you did to try to save the Blues. I just wanted to tell you that I think you did everything you could.”
“And?” I prompted, sensing there was more.
Mary took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “And maybe I was wrong about you.”
What can I say? I was actually speechless.
Mary straightened to her full height, peering down at me haughtily, but I got the impression it was more for my peace of mind than any true condescension. “This doesn’t mean I
like
you,” she assured me. “It just means . . . well, I guess I
respect
you.”
like
you,” she assured me. “It just means . . . well, I guess I
respect
you.”
I nodded. “So noted. Thanks.”
She turned on her stilettoed heel and tossed her head as she strode away, her long strides carrying her around the corner in no time at all.
As soon as she was gone, I went in search of Nate, eager to find out if he’d heard anything about the disappearance of Sebille’s body. But when I found him, he and the Chief were talking in hushed tones in Al’s office. Their voices immediately ceased when I stepped into the room.
“What’s going on?” I demanded. “Did you get the warrant for Caliban?”
Nate gave me a guarded look. “No.”
“Why not?” I asked, my skin prickling with apprehension.
Al folded his hands and leaned forward onto his desk as if bracing himself. “Todd Caliban went into cardiac arrest and nearly died thirty minutes ago.”
I blinked rapidly, too stunned by the news to believe I’d heard him right. “What the hell are you talking about? He was getting better.” I turned to Nate. “You told me that when I woke up this evening.”
Al glanced between Nate and me, his eyes full of questions I was sure he’d be asking later.
Nate cleared his throat, having caught the look, too. “Uh, yeah, I know. Apparently, someone slipped him a lethal dose of D. Luckily, a nurse happened to walk in just as he was coding and was able to save his life. Al sent a couple of Investigators over to question the medical staff and work the crime scene.”
So that’s where Trish was....
That answered one question but left me with about a dozen more. Such as who would want Caliban dead now that Sebille was out of the picture? A certain drug lord with an ax to grind immediately came to mind.
“Let’s go,” I said, already stepping back into the hallway. “Something tells me this isn’t over yet.”
Chapter 41
When Nate and I ducked under the yellow crime scene tape, I felt my stomach turn. Caliban lay in the hospital bed, the white hospital sheet drawn up over his chest, which rose and fell in a slow rhythm thanks to the ventilator keeping him alive. I gave my head a quick shake, pushing away the surge of emotion I felt at seeing him this way. Nate’s hand passed lightly down my arm, letting me know he was there if I needed him. I gave him a grateful look before he moved away to talk quietly with the Investigators who were taking a statement from one of the ward nurses.
I spotted Trish crouched down beside the bed, examining the floor, and came to stand beside her. “Find anything?”
Trish’s head snapped up. “Red? What are you doing here? I figured you’d be taking the day off.”
“We heard what happened,” I said by way of answer. “Do you know anything yet?”
Trish rose from her crouch and put her hands on her hips. “Not much,” she replied, her eyes still taking in details of the room as she spoke. “The nurse walked in and saw a woman injecting liquid D into Caliban’s IV.”
“A woman?” I repeated. “You mean it wasn’t Tim Halloran?” Trish shook her head. “Not unless he was in drag and has the ability to vanish into thin air.”
“What?”
“When the nurse yelled for security, the woman vanished into thin air. Literally. She didn’t leave a trace. There’s absolutely
nothing
for me to go on.”
nothing
for me to go on.”
“No residual magic?” I asked, thinking of Sebille Fenwick’s missing corpse and wondering if fairy zombies could vanish into thin air.
(Hey, stranger things have happened. . . .)
Trish shook her head again. “Not even a hint. This place is way too clean.”
I gave her a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”
She sighed and looked around again, surveying the room in a last-ditch effort to find answers. “Whoever came in here had to be able to move without leaving any footprint—magic or otherwise. Nothing has been disturbed at all, not even the air in the room.”
“Who can do that?” I asked.
Trish turned her head toward me and met my gaze. “No one I know.”
I scowled, my mind racing. Why would someone want to murder Caliban now? All the players in Sebille’s carefully crafted play had already exited stage right. What unknown character was hovering in the wings, waiting to make an appearance for the dramatic conclusion?
“Red?” Trish said as if she’d said it a few times already.
I gave myself a quick shake. “Sorry—what?”
Trish glanced over to where Nate was absorbed in conversation with the Investigators, then took my elbow and ducked under the tape, pulling me along with her. When we were safely out of earshot, she said quietly, “The only time I’ve ever encountered a crime scene without residual it turned out to be a ghost. Do you think it could have been Sebille Fenwick’s spirit?”
My brows lifted. Definitely an intriguing idea, but I told her, “No, I don’t think so. I saw Nate take her soul. The only souls that hang around are those who wander off before the Reaper arrives. As far as I know, once they’re delivered, there’s no coming back.”
Trish exhaled a long sigh. “I guess that would have been too easy, huh?” She started back into the room but stopped and turned toward me. “Oh—I almost forgot to tell you. I ran some tests on Sebille’s body when they brought her in. Her ability to transform was definitely voluntary. She wasn’t born a lycan, and there was no evidence of a curse like Seth’s sample.”
I wasn’t entirely surprised by the information. “So, what kind of voluntary magic was she using?” I asked. “Was it sidhe?”
Trish shrugged. “No clue. I didn’t get a chance to finish looking at the results before I was called here.”
“When you get back to the lab, will you call and let me know?”
Trish sighed and gave me an irritated look. “You know, I do need to sleep at some point, Red.”
I let out a little laugh. “Sorry, I’m just anxious to cross this one off my list. But I guess I can wait. I’m much more curious about our would-be assassin.”
“You and me both,” Trish rejoined. “I’ll be here for a little while longer, but I’ll see what I can do about getting those other results for you.”
“Thanks, Trish!” I called as she went back into Caliban’s room.
There was really nothing for me to do at the crime scene, so I leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes, waiting for Nate to come out.
A few minutes later, I felt his approach and opened my eyes. “Ready to go?”
“I need to stay close,” he replied, giving me a pained look. “Just in case.”
“Oh.”
He put his arm around my shoulders. “Come on. I’ll walk you out.”
When we were in the elevator, I turned toward him and ran my index finger over his shoulder. “This still mine?”
Nate pulled me to him. “Anytime.”
I wrapped my arms around him and clung to him as the elevator made its way up to the ground level, letting the warmth of him wrap itself around me. When the elevator doors slid open, Nate and I stepped apart and he tossed me his keys. “Take my car. Mind if I stop by later?”
This brought a hint of a smile to my lips. “I’d be pissed if you didn’t.”
Nate’s laugh burst from him. “Then I’ll see you soon. I still owe you dinner.”
I checked my watch. “It might have to be a midnight snack at this rate. How about you bring tacos with you and we’ll call it even?”
“You got it.” He raised a hand to me in farewell as the elevator doors slid closed once more.
As I drove Nate’s Zephyr toward Gran’s neighborhood, I tried to shake the uneasy feeling I had hanging over me. Sebille was dead. I saw Nate collect her soul. And her partner in crime might soon be joining her in the great hereafter. So why couldn’t I accept that it was all over? We’d figured it out. The ruthless scheme for building Todd Caliban’s empire had been laid bare. And Seth was completely in the clear. I should have been relieved to have it all over and done with, but instead I felt like I was missing something.
I shrugged it off, forcing myself to focus on the road. Maybe if I’d had the chance to look at Hamelin’s journal before everything went to shit, I wouldn’t have had this nagging suspicion that there was more to the story.
The little devil on my shoulder gave me a prod with her pitchfork and whispered, “You know, Red, there’s really no reason why the forensics team would have gone upstairs at Nicky’s house. He was the only one besides Nate who knows anything about the flash drive. Odds are good it’s still there. . . .”
Little Red Devil had a point. I’d be breaking some serious FMA rules about crime scene protocol, but it’s not like I was going to traipse around and contaminate things. They’d probably already taken all the evidence they needed; keeping the scene secured for a few days was just a formality. What would it really hurt if I broke in and gathered a little more evidence on my own?
I took the next exit and headed toward Nicky’s instead. When I pulled into his driveway, the sun was setting over the horizon, casting long shadows and making the abandoned mansion seem a little creepier than it would have been in the light of day. Squaring my shoulders, I shrugged off my uneasiness and went up the steps. Whoever had sealed the door had done a piss-poor job of it, so I was able to get inside without even having to disturb the crime scene tape.
“Score one for Red,” I muttered. “Must be my lucky night.”
Even in the waning light I could see that the forensics team had already cleaned up the blood and other signs of violence in the house, just as I’d anticipated. I could still feel the heaviness of negative energy hovering in the air, but at least I didn’t have to
see
anything that I’d been too shaken up to observe the night before.
see
anything that I’d been too shaken up to observe the night before.
I hurried up the stairs to the guest room and found the flash drive sitting on the desk next to the keyboard where Nicky had left it. “Score again,” I whispered. “Red’s hot tonight, folks.”
Hamelin’s documents were a case study in how
not
to organize your hard drive, but thanks to what Nicky had already told me, I was able to find the journal without any trouble. Unfortunately, Hamelin’s thoughts weren’t organized much better than his hard drive.
not
to organize your hard drive, but thanks to what Nicky had already told me, I was able to find the journal without any trouble. Unfortunately, Hamelin’s thoughts weren’t organized much better than his hard drive.
There were various rambling rants about how Sebille was blackmailing him and about how cruel and deranged she could be in her quest for power. He spoke of how Julie Spangle had seen through the ruse immediately and had been eliminated as a result. How Dale Minnows had threatened to pull his funding. How Alfred Simon had seen Sebille controlling the rats and had been murdered to keep him from blabbing.
Hamelin also made several comments about Caliban, calling him an “ignorant patsy” and a “tool” for letting Sebille control him. More than once, Hamelin said he almost felt sorry for Caliban for trusting such a manipulative woman.
I frowned as I reread the disjointed paragraphs. To hear Hamelin tell it, Caliban had been completely ignorant of Sebille’s machinations to keep him on top and in the spotlight, and honestly knew nothing of the murders. If anything, he was only guilty of poor judgment when it came to his taste in women.
I continued reading, simultaneously rewriting the conclusion I’d mistakenly set aside as a final draft. If Caliban hadn’t been in league with Sebille’s plans, then who was the person she’d spoken of the night before? Who had warned her that I’d be a threat? Who had forbidden her to kill me in spite of the supposed threat I posed? Was this mystery man behind the attempt on Caliban’s life even though it was a woman the nurse had seen?
The attempt on Caliban’s life suddenly made sense. If Caliban was dead, he couldn’t prove his innocence and the case would be officially closed. Who would think to look any further when both supposedly guilty parties were pushing up daisies?
Of course, if Mr. Mysterious found out Caliban had survived, he might come at him again to finish him off once and for all. Which meant if we played this right we could catch him in the act.
I grabbed my phone and called Nate, but he didn’t answer.
Odd.
I frowned, wondering if maybe Caliban had died and Nate was busy delivering his soul. I tapped my phone against my forehead for a moment, wondering who else I could trust with this information.
Trish.
I dialed Trish’s number and was greeted with an exasperated huff. “You just don’t give up, do you?”
“Trish,” I said, ignoring her tone. “Is Caliban still alive?”
There was a slight hesitation. “Yeah. I mean, he was stable when I left the hospital. Why?”
“I can’t reach Nate. Do you know where he is?”
“I think he said something about tacos.”
I grinned a little.
God, I loved that man.
“I need you to do me a favor.”
God, I loved that man.
“I need you to do me a favor.”
“
Another
one?” Trish drawled.
Another
one?” Trish drawled.
“I promise this is important,” I assured her. “And I’ll owe you.”
“Fine, but that’s two you owe me now. What do you need?”
“Can you request guards for Caliban’s room? I need them to be from special ops with magical abilities. I don’t have the authority to order something like that.”
“Holy crap,” Trish breathed. “You think someone’s coming back to try again, don’t you?”
“As soon as word gets out that he’s alive, yeah.”
“Okay,” Trish agreed. “I’ll call it in right now.”
“Thanks, Trish. You’re the best.”
“Oh, hey, Red,” Trish said quickly to keep me from hanging up. “Those other results just came back. Sebille was
ruvanush
.”
ruvanush
.”
“Ruvanush?” I repeated. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“But she was from Arthurian legend,” I pointed out. “Ruvanush werewolf transformation is Romany magic. How would she have learned that kind of magic in her story?”
“Maybe she learned it on this side,” Trish suggested. “Are there any Tales who’d know how to transform into a werewolf using magic from that region?”
I swallowed hard, suddenly finding it difficult to speak with horror squeezing the hell out of my heart. “Just one,” I whispered. “Thanks, Trish.”
On a hunch, I did a quick search through Hamelin’s diatribe for the word
Sarah
to see if Hamelin had had any info on the one murder that hadn’t fit in with the rest. When I got the first hit, my mouth went dry. Sarah’s murder seemed to have bothered Hamelin the most. He’d met the woman on the one occasion he’d visited Sebille’s apartment. Apparently, she’d served as Sebille’s housekeeper—until a falling out had resulted in Sarah’s dismissal.
Sarah
to see if Hamelin had had any info on the one murder that hadn’t fit in with the rest. When I got the first hit, my mouth went dry. Sarah’s murder seemed to have bothered Hamelin the most. He’d met the woman on the one occasion he’d visited Sebille’s apartment. Apparently, she’d served as Sebille’s housekeeper—until a falling out had resulted in Sarah’s dismissal.
I blinked a few times and shook my head, not willing to believe the picture that was forming. I kept reading, hoping I’d find the explanation that would prove me wrong, but then a name caught my eye and turned my blood to ice water in my veins.
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