Dalton, Tymber - Fire and Ice [A Triple Trouble Prequel] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (32 page)

Callie shook her head. “No. I don’t think so. This isn’t the guy I knew. Might be his son or other relative.” She looked up and pointed at one of the shelves. “Look at that.”

Lina stepped around the dead man. She wondered that she wasn’t getting upset over stumbling on a dead body, but then she suspected she knew exactly who had killed this man. And why. On a top shelf, partially hidden by some small boxes, sat raw chunks of catlinite.

Callie stood and looked around. “Well, we’re not getting any answers out of him. Let’s see what we can find.” She opened a file cabinet and started rifling through it.

Lina looked around, not sure what she was looking for. When the front doorbell rang a few minutes later, she jumped. They both looked at each other. Callie had started for the curtained doorway when they heard Zack call out.

“Lina? Where are you?”

“Back here,” she called.

Seconds later, he ran through the doorway and barely had enough time to skid to a stop so he didn’t step on the dead man. “Holy shit!” He glared at Callie. “What the hell did you do that for?”

She gave him a disgusted look and planted her hands on her hips. “Why the hell do you just naturally assume I did anything? We found him like that. He’s been dead for hours. Duh.”

“Oh.” Zack did, in fact, look more closely. “Sorry.”

“Believe me, when I kill someone, it’s a lot more creative than stabbing them in the heart. Besides, that’s a typical cockatrice trick. Signature move.”

Zack and Lina exchanged a look, and at the same time said, “Son of a bitch!”

“What?”

Zack said, “I’d bet dollars to doughnuts that whoever killed Bertholde killed this guy, too. That’s how they murdered her. They stabbed her in the heart.”

“They didn’t leave a knife this time,” Lina pointed out.

“Doesn’t matter,” Callie said. “Stabbing someone in the heart is something peculiar they do. I never learned what the significance is, but it’s just their thing. Like the mob leaving a horse’s head in your bed.”

“Great,” Zack said. “We should get out of here.”

“We haven’t finished tossing the place yet,” Callie pointed out.

“I don’t care. We can come back later and do it. I want Lina out of here.”

“Lina’s a big girl,” Callie said. “We’ll keep her safe.”

“Hello,” Lina said. “Lina is right here.” She waved her hand in Zack’s face. “Goddess wants to stay and play Sherlock Holmes,” she snarked. “I’m tired of feeling helpless.”

“Fine. Let’s do it fast and get the hell out of here. What are we looking for?”

Lina grabbed an empty plastic shopping bag and retrieved the uncarved catlinite. No surprise, she felt nothing when she picked up the stone.

Into the bag she dumped it. Callie handed her some papers from the file cabinet before she started rifling through the desk. After ten minutes, Zack smacked himself on the forehead. “Anyone look at his wallet?”

The women stared at him for a moment. “Just fucking shoot me and get it over with,” Lina said.

Callie smacked herself on the forehead much as Zack had and stooped down to rummage through the dead man’s pockets. She stood up, his wallet and phone in her hand. “Let’s take them. He’s not going to need them.”

Lina wasn’t sure she liked the dark humor, but she also couldn’t disagree with the logic. Into the bag they went.

Callie returned to the desk, and when she reached the bottom drawer on the right-hand side, she found it locked. “Fuck this,” she mumbled, and put her hand on the lock.

With a bright flash of light and puff of smoke, the lock exploded. Callie opened the drawer and started exploring. After a moment, she emptied the drawer onto the desk and tapped the bottom of it. “Hmm.” They heard the sound of wood cracking, then Callie let out a low whistle.

“What?” Zack asked.

“Boys and girls, we’ve hit the jackpot.” She pulled something out and turned so they could see it.

It looked like an exact copy of the cockatrice spell book.

“Fuck me,” Zack said.

There was also an address book and a small journal inside the false bottom. They took them, returned the drawer to its place, and dumped the remaining items back inside before closing it. “Now let’s get the hell out of here,” Callie said.

“Agreed,” Zack concurred.

They started for the curtain when they heard the bell on the front door tinkle. The three of them froze. They stared at each other, holding their breaths.

After a minute, they didn’t hear anything. Zack shrugged and peeked through the curtain. “No one there,” he said.

They all stepped through the curtain. Sure enough, the showroom was empty.

“Weird,” Callie muttered. “They must have changed their mind about coming in.” She led the way to the door and peeked through it. With the way apparently clear, she opened it and they filed out, Callie taking the lead and Zack bringing up the rear.

They turned the opposite way of how they arrived. “We came that way,” Lina said, tapping Callie on the shoulder.

“I know. I’ve got a feeling. We’d better go this way.” In fact, she led them across the street and as she started to pick up the pace, Lina had a flash.

“Wait. Hold up.” She pulled Zack and Callie into the doorway of an empty store and peeked out, down the street.

She felt dizzy. With the exception that it wasn’t blue, it was the scene from her vision of the third killer.

“This is it,” she whispered.

“What?” Callie asked.

“Lina, honey? You’re scaring me,” Zack said.

“Shut up,” Lina ordered. They stood there, waiting. A few minutes later, an older man, heavyset and with greying hair, emerged from a wine store a few doors down from the other shop.

It was him. She’d bet her life on it. He looked older than he had when he’d committed the murder, and had packed on some pounds, but it was him.

Lina poked Zack in the arm and frantically motioned to him. He carefully peeked around the corner. The man started toward the artisan’s store but Lina felt anger overcome her as she remembered how Kael’s family had died. Before either Zack or Callie could stop her, she shoved the bag at Zack and stepped out of the doorway.

She screamed at the man. “Hey, fat boy. Remember me?” She felt rage coiling and building in her gut.

The man stopped. Then, as he got a good look at her face, shock and fear washed over his expression.

“That’s it,” she said as she crossed the street, oblivious to the cars that screeched to a stop to avoid hitting her. “Stand right there.” She raised her right arm. This felt right.

Really right.

Let’s see if I can not-so-randomly blow something up. Like barbecued bastard.

She felt the fireball congealing in her right hand when he seemed to regain his senses. He drew a revolver from his pocket and started shooting at her.

Letting out a frightened squeak, she immediately waved her left hand in front of her. A wall of ice formed, sprouting cracks where the bullets harmlessly bounced off it. “Hey! That’s assault with intent, fat boy!”

Lina was vaguely aware of Zack screaming her name when the guy turned and ran. She waved her hand and the ice disappeared. The bullets harmlessly hit the cobblestones. A car pulled around her and she tried to vault over the hood, but she stumbled on the other side and hit the sidewalk flat on her face.

By the time the three of them reached the alley the man had turned down, there was no sign of him.

“Son of a bitch!” she screamed.

Callie turned, startled, as the sound of sirens reached them. “
Gendarmes
. Come on. We need to go!” She grabbed Lina’s arm.

Lina tried to shake her off. “We need to go after him! That’s the guy I saw help kill Kael’s family! And he was probably at Yellowstone!”

Zack grabbed her other arm. “No, we need to get the hell out of here before we’re arrested.”

“What about the car?” Callie asked.

“Fuck it, we’ll get it later, when things calm down.” They hurried down the street, breaking into a run as they rounded the next corner.

Callie took the lead. “This way.” She led them down a series of allies until they emerged inside a market. They stopped as she got her bearings. “Come on.”

At a small café next door, they got an inside table and nervously watched out the front window. After twenty minutes and eating a light lunch of cheese and soup, they relaxed. “I think we’re safe,” Callie said, low enough no one else could hear.

Zack looked down at his cell phone. “Jan and Rick are on their way in the rental car to pick us up. They’ll pull up out front.” He motioned for the check. “Let’s sit here until they say they’re close.”

They timed it perfectly. Jan and Rick pulled up to the curb, and the three of them dove into the backseat. Rick, behind the wheel, got them turned around and heading away from the café.

“Okay, what the fuck is going on?” he asked. “And do the three of you have anything to do with the hellacious roadblock a few streets over?”

Lina blushed. “Um, sort of.”

Jan shook his head. “Don’t tell him while he’s driving. He’ll get us killed. We’ll be back at the hotel in a few minutes.”

Zack pulled the books out of the bag they’d taken from the shop. “Well, at least we have one question answered. If not the dead guy, someone in the shop had something to do with carving those statues.”

“
What
dead guy?” Rick yelled.

“Shut up and drive,” Jan snapped. “I asked you not to do that, Z.”

“Sorry. He was already dead when the girls got there.”

The car swerved a little as Rick tried to look into the backseat. “What? Why weren’t you with them?”

“Stop it!” Jan yelled.

“Who are you yelling at?” Zack asked.

“Both of you! Let’s get back to the hotel safely then we’ll talk.”

Lina thought she saw tufts of steam wisping from Rick’s nostrils, but he clamped his jaw shut and pressed down a little harder on the accelerator as he wove through traffic.

* * * *

They looked over the books. Callie, Zack, and Daniel took the address book, cross-checking addresses and info with the Internet to see which ones were still good.

So far, they were striking out.

“He obviously didn’t make the cuffs,” Callie said as she sat back and stretched. “He wasn’t a silversmith. I didn’t see any evidence of it there at his shop.” They’d sent Wally, Brodey, and Jocko to the man’s house to scope the place out and were waiting to hear back from them.

Lina was pouring through the small journal. The first entry was dated 1 March, 1879, and it had been only sporadically updated from that point on. The last entry was only three years prior from the current date, and at least a quarter of the pages were still blank.

Most of the notes didn’t make sense. They seemed to be formulas, or material lists, or even random comments. She finally handed it off to Jan and Rick, who’d been working the phones with Andel to get more backup.

“My brain’s fried,” she said. She flopped back onto the bed. “I can’t handle this. I can’t believe I couldn’t fry Fat Boy’s balls. I am
such
a sucky Goddess! That fucktard is still running around loose out there somewhere!”