Spellbound (29 page)

“That the Dahls get Larsen until he's eighteen,” Davis said. “After that, they can continue to act as his family and guardians.”

“But the Cabal can't”—she glanced at the girl—“recruit him until he's eighteen.”

Davis nodded.

So the Dahls built the hole for the children, in case the Nasts ever tried to take Larsen early. They were to hide in there and phone for help, probably extended family. If the Dahls didn't make their daily check-in call, that person would come looking for the children. Except when someone from the Cabal did come, saying they were from Sean, it caught the Dahls off guard. They couldn't hide Larsen in time. Just Gabrielle.

“I'm supposed to tell you what happened,” Gabrielle said. “Then you can help Mommy and Daddy and Larsen.”

“That's what we're going to do,” Cassandra said.

W
e had Gabrielle tell us exactly what happened last night. Someone had come to the door. A man. He said Tom and

Gale—the guards, whom Gabrielle knew as the driver and gardener—were outside with the dogs, making sure no one saw them leaving. He said they had reason to believe another “cattle” was coming for Larsen, so they needed to get him into L.A.

How did they get in and out without setting off the alarms? Clearly someone had tampered with the equipment, meaning it was an inside job.

Sean, though? Definitely not. But it had to be someone close to him, close enough to get the code word and convince the Dahls that Sean had sent the message that another Cabal was after Larsen.

When Davis called it in, he'd said he was taking Gabrielle to Sean. Since Sean was the executive in charge of the Dahls, the Cabal couldn't argue with that. Nor could they argue with getting the little girl out of the house before the crime scene team arrived to retrieve the dead guards and dogs from the tree out back.

 

 

Sean and Lucas were still in their meeting when we left the Dahl house. As I was hanging up after leaving a message, I saw that I had a few text messages on my new phone. The last was from Adam. Two words.
Call me
.

I stared at the message. I started dialing his number. I got halfway through, stopped, stared at it some more . . .

“Adam called, I presume?” Cassandra said from the seat beside me. Gabrielle was up front with Davis.

“Texted.” I began typing a response instead. Stopped. Erased it.

“Do you want my advice?”

I nodded.

 

 

I called Adam.

“Just got your message,” I said. “In a hurry for an update, huh? Is Paige pestering you? Or are you just bored?”

“Not really. I—”

“You're bored. Hey, you had your chance. Now you're stuck in that chair until I get back.”

Before he could answer, I told him what we'd found so far. When he tried to change the subject, I wouldn't let him. I wasn't ready to talk about what I said before I left and I certainly wasn't going to discuss it over the phone. I kept chattering about the case until he surrendered, and helped me work through the possibilities.

When the topic threatened to reach an end, I said, “Whoops, gotta run. Cass and I need to figure out what to do with Gabrielle until Sean can take her.”

“Hold on. Before you go—”

“I really have to—”

“I'm not going to talk about anything you don't want me talking about, Savannah.”

“There's nothing—”

“I get the hint, okay? All personal stuff is on hold until you get back. But I wanted you to know that Hope is meeting with Kimerion today.”

“So she agreed to that?”

“Luckily I'd asked her before the Jaz incident. Now Karl wants to get it over with so Hope can rest. He's going to be there and Benicio's going to be there, along with Benicio's top demon negotiator. Do you want us to wait until you're back so you can sit in?”

“I'm good. I'll call tonight. And I'll try to remember the time difference.”

“Forget the time. Call whenever you can.” A pause. “I know this has been hard on you. When you came back, I didn't mean to make it worse by . . .”

“You were angry.”

“No, not angry. Just . . .”

Hurt. I took you for granted and I manipulated you, and that's not how a friend should act. I hurt you and I'm so sorry.
I squeezed my eyes shut. “I should go.”

“Right. Okay. So later?”

“Later.”

I hung up. Then I took a deep breath, staring down at my phone.

“You did fine,” Cassandra murmured.

I looked over at her and nodded.

 

 

I phoned Rhys and told him what was going on. As Larsen's grandfather, he had a right to know. He agreed with my plan to give Gabrielle to Sean, and trust him not to turn her over to the Cabal. Rhys would fly in to confront the Nasts about Larsen.

When I got off that call, my phone rang again. Sean had gotten my message and stepped out of the meeting. I told him everything. If it had been someone else, I'd have waited to see his reaction when he was accused. I trusted Sean too much for that.

He didn't claim Gabrielle must be mistaken. He presumed she was telling the truth.

“Is it possible the Cabal did take him?” I said. “Using the same rationale Thomas is using to blame Benicio? Use the alleged threat to break their agreement with the parents?”

“If only Larsen had been kidnapped, I could see it. They wouldn't take the Dahls, though. And they wouldn't leave Gabrielle behind either. Saying she's at a friend's house is a flimsy excuse. They'd have picked the girl up. Otherwise, she'd come home to an empty house and raise the alarm.”

“So whoever did this has high enough access to get that code, but isn't experienced enough to carry out the plan properly. Any ideas?”

“Two second cousins. Barely out of college. I've had a feeling their dad has been giving them access to secured files, hoping they can use it to get ahead. He's the guy who lives behind the Dahls. Granddad's nephew. VP of finance.”

“Sounds promising. Do you want me to investigate?”

“If it's family, you'll only hit brick walls. Work on Cassandra's lead for now and leave this to me.”

 

 

Now we had to wait for Sean to finish his meeting. So we took Gabrielle to a store where kids can build their own stuffed animal. I thought of it because I remembered taking Elena's twins to a mall a few months ago. I'd seen the kids streaming into one of these toy-building places, so I'd thought they might like that. Logan took one look inside and disappeared into the hobby shop beside it, where he'd picked out a mechanical model of the solar system. It was recommended for kids twice Logan's age, but that didn't matter—he'd do it easily.

Kate had hung out in front of the toy-building shop for a while, and I'd actually thought she might be interested, until Elena came by and explained she was just studying the other kids, trying to figure out the allure of putting baseball hats on stuffed bears. Finally she'd given up and gone elsewhere to pick out her gifts—a children's encyclopedia of mythology and some sheet music for her new keyboard. The lesson I learned from this? If it's something most kids love, don't bother taking the twins. If they aren't interested, it's a sure bet other kids will be.

Gabrielle loved the place, and it kept her distracted until Sean was there. Earlier, we'd had to explain to Gabrielle why we were handing her over to the guy she thought took her mom, dad, and little brother. Cassandra's charm came in handy then. Gabrielle obviously liked Sean so it was easy to convince her he wasn't involved. But we still weren't sure how she'd react when he showed up. We needn't have worried. By the time Sean arrived with Lucas, she was ready to go with him.

Before we separated again, I talked to Lucas and Sean. They were going to jointly investigate security staff who might have been able to pull this off.

“I'm going to be busy for a few hours,” Lucas said. “Paige is anxiously awaiting an update. Could I impose on you to provide that, Savannah?”

Now this was bullshit. First, Paige never “anxiously awaited” updates. Second, Lucas always found time to call or text her, no matter how busy he was.

“Sure,” I said. “So how much should I tell her? She'll be at headquarters, with the Cabal listening in.”

As Lucas launched into a detailed explanation of exactly what I should say, Sean wandered back to the others.

“Is that what you wanted?” I said when Sean was out of earshot.

“Precisely. Thank you.”

He checked over his shoulder, then pulled a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and slipped it to me. I put it in my pocket.

“Sean submitted all the criteria for the security checks to the system, and it provided printouts for each staff member that fit. He removed that one.”

“What? No, he—”

“He didn't try to hide it. He simply said there was no reason to investigate that person. He hadn't been employed by the cousins in question for months.”

“So how does that remove him from the pool?”

“It doesn't. The problem, I suspect, is the guard's current assignment. Frankie Salas is the personal bodyguard to another young Nast executive.”

“Who?”

“Bryce.”

“You think—?”

“I think all employees fitting the criteria must be checked. That particular inquiry, though, appears to be one Sean would like to conduct without our assistance.”

“I don't think Bryce—”

“Check out Salas, Savannah. At least for the purpose of saying we were meticulous in our investigation.”

 

 

Lucas sometimes gets so wrapped up in the logical side of things that he overlooks any other aspect. Paige wouldn't have set me on this task because she'd have realized what she was really asking me to do: investigate the possibility that the perpetrator was the half brother who hated my guts.

Maybe that last part should have made it easier. It didn't. Sean had taken Bryce out of the suspect pool. How would it look if I put him back in? If Bryce found out? If Sean found out?

I could only hope my gut was right and Bryce had nothing to do with this.

 

 

As it turned out, I could safely postpone the bodyguard check. Aaron phoned as we climbed into the car. He'd arranged a meeting with the supernatural who'd claimed to have seen Anita Barrington.

“A bar?” Cassandra said.

“Yeah,” Aaron said through the cell phone speaker. “It's a place where people go to relax, socialize, drink. Savannah will show you how to do it.”

“I'm quite familiar with bars,” Cassandra said. “It's a necessary concept for anyone who has spent any amount of time with you. I have no objection to holding a meeting at a cocktail lounge or local pub. But this sort of place is highly inappropriate.”

“What sort of place is that?”

“One called The Meet Market, where I will be pawed by every overweight, fifty-year-old man who can't attract the notice of any young thing and thinks I'll be grateful for the attention.”

“Well, there is another place down the block. The Cougar's Lair. Might be more your style.”

I laughed. When Cassandra didn't reply, Aaron said, “Cass? Still with me?”

“Just . . . considering. What kind of clientele would this other establishment attract? Young urban professionals? Or big strapping farm boys? You know I like farm boys. Perhaps—”

“It's set for The Meet Market.”

“Are you sure? Because—”

“Shut up, Cass.”

She chuckled. “I do believe you're the one who made the suggestion.”

“The contact's name is Eloise. I said you'd be by within the hour.”

Aaron gave us the rest of the instructions, then told Cassandra to “get him off the damned speakerphone.” After she did, they talked for a minute, Cassandra's voice low, her gaze turned to the window.

I didn't eavesdrop. There's a lot of speculation about the nature of Cass and Aaron's relationship, but to me, it's obvious they're lovers. Or lovers again, I should say. They'd first gotten together two hundred years ago, shortly after Aaron's rebirth as a vampire.

That part about Cassandra liking younger guys? Big, strapping types? Let's just say that I'm sure when Cass was alive, she was slipping out of the manor house for tumbles in the hay with the stable boys. When she found Aaron as a newly turned vampire, she must have jumped him like a starving dog on steak—an analogy I've used before, and one she really appreciates.

Whatever the physical attraction, though, there must have been more. A lot more. They'd been together for over a hundred years. Then Cassandra had betrayed him, leaving him behind as she escaped a mob. People say they can't understand how she could do that. But I think I do.

I don't know anything about Cassandra's past. No one does. She's not someone you'd go out for a beer with and casually say, “So, what was your life like before you turned?” If you did, you'd be answered with a stare cold enough to frost your glass. I know this, though—Cassandra is not a hereditary vampire. She chose this life, meaning she survived a transformation process that kills most people and drives the rest insane. I have a feeling it wasn't about wanting immortality. It was about thumbing her nose at death and isolating herself from the rest of the world, choosing a life where you can't make lasting relationships. With Aaron, she had a lasting relationship. So she severed the bond with a betrayal she thought he'd never forgive.