A Barricade in Hell (38 page)

He smiled and the darkness around him rose, deepened, and seemed to reach for me. Fear prickled my skin, but I didn't back away. Jonas's voice was reassuring, a father trying to calm a panicked child. “Be reasonable and think of your friend's well-being. A long car ride will only make things worse. Come inside.”

“She told you no, mister. Maybe you should listen. Tell your goons to get out of the way.” Randy's voice was hard, angry, and his expression said he'd broach no arguments. Yet underneath, I knew he was just as frightened as I was, maybe more so.

The little girl ghost shimmered into view in the space between Jonas and me. She stared at Jonas for an instant, her face sad and wistful, and real sorrow filled her eyes. Whoever she was, I was certain she'd known him in life and he'd betrayed her somehow, but she wasn't asking me to right past wrongs. She only wanted me to understand all that had been stolen from her.

I was more confused than ever about this spirit and uncertain what she wanted from me. The hostility she'd shown from the beginning was gone, replaced by a wistfulness that brought tears to my eyes. I didn't dare trust that feeling.

“You're making a mistake, young man. Your friend will be much better off if she rests before leaving.” Jonas's expression remained concerned and friendly, but he'd concentrated all his attention and efforts to persuade toward Randy. His eyes widened, and I knew he saw something other than a tall, angry young man defending Isadora. For an instant, something cold, predatory, flashed across his face and vanished again. Randy was a prize in Jonas's eyes, a person to be exploited to best advantage.

Whether Randy survived or not once Jonas finished with him didn't matter. This distinguished, dapper-looking man was a truly repulsive creature at heart. That was the truth about Jonas Wolf, a truth people passing him on the street would never know.

The little girl spirit moved closer, her china doll clutched tight in one arm and bright blue eyes staring into mine. I remembered Gabe telling me about the young reporter from the
Call,
Samuel Butler, who'd tracked Effie Fontaine from small town to big city over the last two years. Her people never came after him, because Sam Butler saw the lies and the darkness behind the public face, and knew her for a murderer. Even knowing all that, he was never afraid for himself.

Effie Fontaine never hurt Sam Butler, because she couldn't. He wouldn't give her that power.

The same lies and rot squirmed below the surface of Jonas's skin. He couldn't hurt me unless I let him, and I wasn't about to let that happen.

Fear fell away and with it, some of the feel of being wrapped in cotton wool. Anger took its place, clearing my head. I could think again.

“We're not going anywhere with you, Mr. Wolf. I wouldn't advise trying to stop the three of us from leaving either, or I'll be forced to make a scene. The police are waiting just outside, including my husband, Captain Ryan. He's certain to hear if I make a fuss and begin to yell.” I didn't know the proper cantrips or charms to banish creatures like Jonas Wolf, but I didn't need to. Command and will filled my voice, and all the stubborn determination to protect Dora that I could muster. I trusted the right words would come. “I'm not afraid of you. Get out of our way.”

The smoky murk around Jonas swelled, rising toward the ceiling and dimming the light. Isadora groaned and shook harder. Randy couldn't see or feel the change in Jonas, but he knew something was wrong. He hugged Dora tighter, watching warily.

“I'm still not frightened.” I stood my ground, matching Jonas Wolf stare for stare and pretending to nonchalance. Letting even a fraction of my concern for Dora show would let him claim victory. That would call disaster down on all our heads. “I'd banish you to hell for your crimes if I could.”

“You wouldn't be the first to try, Mrs. Ryan.” Jonas smiled and motioned his men away from the door. He stepped to one side as well, smug and openly amused. “I'm sure we'll meet again.”

I waited until Randy pushed through the outside door with Isadora to turn my back on Jonas and follow. Marshall Henderson ran toward us from a doorway across the street, a promise of help that should have filled me with enormous relief. Instead, swarms of pinpricks crawled over my skin as I fled the warm church for the cold, moonless night, a warning that stole all thoughts of safety.

Victory had gleamed in Jonas Wolf's eyes. We'd escaped far too easily.

 

CHAPTER 22

Gabe

Light shone from the church windows, casting pale streaks across the winter-brown lawn and out to the sidewalk. Leaning forward over the steering wheel put a crimp in Gabe's neck, but didn't change the view or allow him to see what was happening inside. He sat back again, trying to relax his shoulders and struggling against the push he felt to barge through the church hall doors.

He'd promised Dora time to discover what she could about Effie Fontaine. Now impatience gnawed at him, an almost unbearable urgency that spread from the center of his chest, down his arms, and made his fingers tingle. He couldn't shake the conviction that time was running out. Gabe prayed he wouldn't live to regret keeping his promise.

Jack reached into the bakery bag on the seat between them, white paper crackling as he pulled out another cookie. His partner had eaten most of the cookies Annie sent while they waited. Tension rarely killed Jack's appetite or dried his mouth so that swallowing more than a bite was torture.

“Are you sure you don't want more of these?” Jack offered a sugar-dusted piece of shortbread. “Annie will be disappointed when I tell her you only had one.”

“Then don't tell her. We'll keep that a secret between the two of us.” The front door of the church hall opened, causing both Gabe and Jack to lean forward, straining to see who came out. An elderly man led his wife away, arm wrapped tight around her shoulders. Gabe sat back again, more restless than before. “Just make sure you brush the sugar off your jacket before you go inside. Annie will wonder what you've been up to otherwise.”

“She always wonders.” Jack rolled down the top of the cookie bag and twisted around to set it on the rear seat. “Robert Lindsey telephoned the house today. Adele came through the birth just fine. She asked her father to let Sadie know she'd had a little girl. Sadie's going to call round and bring a gift once Adele's had a chance to rest.”

“That's good news. Really good news. Lindsey must be relieved.” Good news of any kind had been scarce of late. He rubbed the fingers on his right hand, trying to ease the cramped ache that had begun to settle in his joints. “I'm glad you told me.”

“I have more good news.” Jack glanced at Gabe, an unreadable expression on his face, and went back to watching the church. “Sadie's pregnant again. The doctor says the baby will be here by midsummer.”

Gabe smothered a pang of envy. He grinned and offered Jack his hand. “Congratulations, Lieutenant Fitzgerald. You and Sadie must be over the moon.”

“It's sooner than we'd thought, but both of us want a big family. Neither one of us wanted Stella to grow up an only child. And maybe we'll have a boy this time.” Jack shrugged, his smile a little embarrassed. “Not that it matters if we have another daughter, but I'd like to try to do a better job raising a son than my pop did.”

“You will, Jack.” Gabe didn't know what else to say, so he let it drop. Patrick Fitzgerald had been a brilliant businessman, but he'd also been a liar and a drunkard, and more concerned with his social position than with his son. Jack's childhood had been rocky at best and he grew up believing that everything his father told him was a lie.

He hadn't been far wrong. Pat Fitzgerald went to his grave without telling his son that his mother had vanished one night when Jack was a baby. She'd been murdered, something Jack might never have known if not for another case they'd worked.

Gabe had been damned lucky growing up to have Matt Ryan as a father. If he ever forgot that, something always happened to remind him.

“Sadie's a little worried about telling Delia. She doesn't know how Dee will take the news.” A tall, thin man dressed in a heavy coat and with his hat pulled low over his face crossed the street. The stranger glanced over his shoulder at the church and walked faster. Jack and Gabe both sat up straighter, watching. “Dora talked to Sadie after Delia lost the baby. She thought Sadie should know there might not be another.”

The stranger was getting closer and clearly headed for their car. Gabe cleared his throat, attention split and not wanting to remember his conversation with Isadora. “Stop worrying, Delia loves Sadie. She'll be happy for the two of you. And Dora's only guessing about why Dee lost the baby. Hell, she admitted as much to both Delia and me. She can't know for certain that we'll never have a child.”

Gabe spent a lot of time trying to deny there was any truth in Dora's warning. If he managed to fool himself, maybe fate would be fooled as well. Of all the difficult things the ability to see ghosts and haunts, phantoms and spirits demanded of his wife, stealing her ability to be a mother struck him as exceedingly cruel.

Delia wanted a houseful of children as much as Sadie. So did he.

The tall man reached the car and tipped his hat back, looking directly at Gabe and smiling. “Christ Almighty, Jack, it's Butler.”

Sam Butler opened the rear door and clambered into the backseat. He ended up with his knees almost under his chin at first, but Sam was used to fitting his long, lanky frame into tight spaces. It took only a few seconds for him to sort himself out.

“What are you doing here, Sam?” Two more people came out of the church entrance, both younger men this time. They staggered as they went down the walk, pausing to lean against the sign announcing Sunday's sermon before going on. Gabe frowned. Both men lurched down the sidewalk as if they'd spent the entire night in a tavern. Something was very wrong. “I hope you have a damn good reason, other than hunting for a story.”

“If I just wanted a story, I'd write one.” Sam rested an arm along the back of the front seat. He watched the front of the church as intently as Gabe and Jack. “I got to thinking about Bill Woodman and how angry he was with Jonas Wolf. He never said, but I figured that he had to know why Wolf was in the German embassy. So I played a hunch and went looking for Mr. Woodman tonight. He was in the same tavern as before. Once he found out I was buying the whiskey, Woodman didn't have any problem talking.”

Jack half turned to look at Sam, amused admiration in his voice. “I take it Woodman knew what Wolf was up to or you wouldn't be here.”

“He knew, all right. Wolf's trying to push through all the final papers he needs in order to take his family back to Germany. He and Fontaine have a six-year-old daughter who lives back in New York.” Butler looked between Gabe and Jack, frowning. “The little girl's medical condition was part of the paperwork Woodman filed. She nearly died of infantile paralysis two years ago, and she's still in a bad way. That's why Fontaine goes back there so often, to see her daughter. Two years I've been following her, Gabe. I never heard a whisper about a daughter.”

“I'm not surprised.” Gabe rubbed the sore muscles in the back of his neck, trying to loosen knots that never went away. Having a child, one she cared for, was a weakness Effie Fontaine couldn't afford to admit. “My detective friend in New York questioned Fontaine's uncle. Theo's telegram said the uncle admitted Fontaine visited him often, but the old man never said a word about a sick child. She wanted her daughter kept a secret.”

“Smart decision.” Sam studied the floor at his feet for a few seconds before looking back at Gabe. He didn't try to hide his anger. “There's enough folk who've lost family that someone was bound to go after her little girl. Lots of people still believe in an eye for an eye.”

“But not you.” He looked Sam straight in the eye, searching for hints of the kind of man Sam Butler was. “You don't believe.”

“No, Gabe, I don't.” Sam didn't flinch. “I can't say I didn't feel that way when I started after her, but that didn't last. The only person I want to see punished is Effie Fontaine.”

“I needed to hear you say it.” Thinking of all the people—all the children—who had died at Fontaine's hands over the last two years made him ill. Gabe swallowed the burning in the back of his throat. “How soon does Wolf plan to leave the country?”

“The ship they're sailing on leaves New York in two weeks. That's why Wolf pushed so hard. Their little girl doesn't have a German passport or other papers that will let him take her into the country.” Sam gestured toward the church. “Tomorrow night is Fontaine's last lecture. They plan on taking a train back to New York the next morning.”

They didn't have much time. Gabe ran down the list of all the evidence they'd found, all the connections between victims and Effie Fontaine he could prove. All the evidence they had was solid in his eyes, but Judge Alger hadn't thought Gabe's case was compelling enough. He could only hope that Isadora would discover some final piece of the puzzle that the judge couldn't dismiss or ignore.

He wasn't letting Effie Fontaine leave town a free woman. Not without a fight. If circumstances forced his hand, he'd arrest her and all her entourage, and worry about finding a way to make the charges stick later.

A man and a woman came out of the church and hurried across the dark lawn at an angle, heading for the line of parked cars down the block. Jack recognized them first and groped for the car door handle. “Gabe—that's Delia and Randy Dodd. Something's happened to Dora.”

He was out of the car and running before Jack and Sam got their doors open. Marshall Henderson saw what was happening and ran across the street from his hiding place, weapon drawn.
Thank God, thank God,
ran through Gabe's head, a chant that kept time with the pounding of his feet. All he could think of was that Delia was safe and Randy wasn't struggling to carry her toward the car.