Fallen Angels 01 - Covet (54 page)

The detective flipped through his book. “Since he's dead, and therefore there's no chance of maligning his reputation...I'll tell you that I think I can tie him to both incidents. Right now, the man who was wounded in the head last night is still hanging on. If he makes it, I believe he'll identify his attacker as having dark hair, because when we went through Locke's house, we found a men's brunet wig with fine traces of blood splattering on it. The CSIers are already running tests, and I believe that the residue is going to match one or all of our victims. We also have a shoe print from the first scene which happens to look a helluva lot like what Locke was wearing tonight.

“So, yeah, pulling this all together...” More with the flipping through, then another glance at Gretchen. “I'm thinking that Locke was targeting men you'd danced with or for at the club, and that explains those attacks. And it was a stroke of luck—or misfortune was more like it—that he happened to live in the house next to where you guys were tonight. Because he didn't know that place was yours, right?”

Vin shook his head. “I'd been there like one other time in the last month, and before that...I can't recall. And I don't think he knew my name to search the real estate records. Besides, how long had he lived next door?”

“Since he was released from prison.”

“Yeah, she and I didn't meet but...three days ago.”

De la Cruz made another note. “Okay, I've been candid. How about returning the favor...? You want to tell the truth about why you were there?”

Gretchen spoke up before Vin could. “Do you believe in ghosts, Detective?” The man blinked a couple of times. “Ah... I'm not sure.”

“Vin's parents died in that house. And he does want to do it over. The problem is...there's a bad spirit in it. Or was. We were trying to get it out.”

Vin popped his brows. Holy crap. That was fantastic, he thought.

“Really?” the detective asked, his brown eyes going tennis-match between them.

“Really,” Vin and Gretchen said together.

“No shit,” the detective murmured.

“No shit,” Vin replied. “The salt was supposed to create a barrier or some crap, and the incense was to clean the air. Listen, I'm not going to pretend I understand all of it....” Hell, he still wasn't clear on everything. “But I know what we did worked.”

Because he felt different. He
was
different. He was just himself now.

De la Cruz flipped to a fresh page and wrote something. “You know, my grandmother used to be able to predict the weather. And there was a rocker up in her attic that moved by itself. What got thrown out the window?”

“Would you believe it broke on its own?” Vin answered.

De la Cruz glanced up. “I don't know.”

“Well, it did.”

“Guess whatever you did might really have worked.”

“It did.” Vin rubbed his eyes with his free hand until his shoulder let out a holler he couldn't ignore and he had to stop. “Let's fucking hope it keeps, though.”

There was a pause and then De la Cruz looked at Gretchen. “I have a follow-up question for you, if you don't mind. You stated to the medics that your name is Gretchen Capricio, but I have it down as Marie-Terese Boudreau. Would you feel comfortable helping me out a little about that?”

Gretchen did a thorough explanation of her situation, and as she spoke, Vin stared at her beautiful face and wished he could take all the pain from the past and the stress from the present away from her.

She had shadows in her eyes and under them, but as he'd come to expect, her voice was strong and her chin up.

Man, he was in love with her.

The detective was shaking his head as she finished up. “I'm really sorry about all that. And I understand completely—although I do wish you'd been up-front in the beginning with us.”

“I was afraid of the press, mostly. My ex-husband's in prison, but his family connections are all over the country...and some of them are in law enforcement. After what happened with my son, I don't trust anyone—even those people with badges.”

“What made you decide to come clean tonight?”

Her eyes shifted to Vin. “Things are different and I'm leaving town.

I'll still let you know where I am, but...I have to get out of Caldwell.”

“After all this, I understand it—although we're going to need to be able to reach you.”

“And I'll come back anytime you need me.”

“Okay. And look, I'll talk to my sergeant. Giving a false identity to the police is a crime, but under the circumstances...” He put his notebook away. “I also heard from the staff here that you told them you were his wife?”

“I wanted to stay with him.”

De la Cruz smiled a little. “I did that once. My wife and I were dating and she sliced her finger open with a knife cutting up a salad for dinner. When I took her to the ER, I lied and told them we were married.”

Gretchen lifted Vin's hand to her lips and kissed it briefly. “I'm glad you understand.”

“I do. I really do.” The detective nodded at Vin. “So you two just started dating?”

“Yeah.”

“Guess your previous lady friend didn't like it, did she.”

“Yeah...I had the ex-girlfriend from hell.” Literally.

In a rush, Vin thought back to the mess his duplex had been left in and the lies Devina had told the police. “She's vicious, Detective.

Worse than you can imagine. And I did not hit her, not once that night, not ever. My mother was abused by my father, and I don't pull shit like that. I'd walk out and leave everything I own behind before I ever struck a female.”

The detective's eyes narrowed and that eagle stare locked on Vin.

After a moment, the guy nodded. “Well, we'll see. I'm not handling that side of things because it's out of my department... but I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't find there was more going on, like a third party or something. I've looked into the faces of a lot of wife beaters and you're not one of their kind.”

De la Cruz put his notebook and pen away and glanced at his watch.

“Hey, check it out. Now you haven't thrown up in almost a half hour.

That's a good sign—maybe they'll let you blow this Popsicle stand.”

Vin extended his free hand even though his shoulder didn't appreciate it. “You're okay, Detective, you know that?”

A solid palm met Vin's and they shook. “And I hope you two are going to be all right. I'll be in touch.”

After the guy left, the curtain flapped back down in place and Vin took a deep breath. “How long do you suppose I have to wait before I can go?”

“Let's give it another half an hour, and if they don't come to check on you, I'll go find that doctor.”

“Okay.”

The trouble was, being powerless and waiting like a good boy had never sat well. Within five minutes, he was getting ready to hit the nurse-call button, except then the curtain parted again.

“Perfect timing—” Vin frowned. Instead of a nurse or a doctor, it was Eddie, looking as grim as a guy who'd just lost a friend and fallen out of a second-floor window.

Go. Fig.

Vin's first instinct was to sit right up, but that didn't go over well at all. As his shoulder let out an opera-singer scream, he had to close his throat up to keep from vomiting all over the front of himself— but at least it wasn't from the Demerol.

As Gretchen lunged for a fresh bedpan and Eddie held up both of his palms in the universal language of whooooooooooooa, Vin tottered on the edge of losing it.

Thank fuck the tide receded and his stomach eventually loosened up.

“Sorry 'bout that,” he said roughly. “I'm having issues.”

“No probs. No probs at all.”

Vin breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. “I'm sorry...about Jim.” Gretchen went up to Eddie and gripped the guy's massive upper arms. Standing in front of him, she was both tiny and fierce. “I owe him my life.”

“Both our lives,” Vin chimed in.

Eddie hugged her briefly and nodded once at Vin. Clearly, he was the type who controlled his emotions—which was something Vin could respect.

“I appreciate it. And now, why I've come.” Eddie reached into his pocket, and when he brought out his palm, in the center of it was the diamond ring and the gold earring. “Adrian did what he had to and got them away from her. You're both completely free, and the way it works is you're now off-limits to her. You don't have to worry about Devina coming back. Just hold on to these, okay?”

As Gretchen took the pieces and hugged him again, Vin let her embrace say everything he wished he could, but didn't dare. He was getting a little choked up, and not because his stomach was rolling into another evac: Sometimes sharp gratitude had the same effect on the gut as nausea. The thing was, he just couldn't figure out what these men had gotten from helping him and Gretchen. Jim was dead, Eddie looked like shit, and fuck only knew what Adrian had done with Devina.

“You guys take care of yourselves, okay?” Eddie murmured, turning to leave. “I've got to go.”

Vin cleared his throat. “About Jim...I'm not sure if you were planning on claiming his body, but I'd love to give him a proper burial. Nothing but the best. Straight up.”

Eddie looked over his shoulder, his odd red-brown eyes grave. “That would be cool—I'll leave you in charge of him. And I'm sure he'd appreciate it.”

Vin nodded once, the deal struck. “You want to know when and where? Can you give me your number?”

The guy recited some numerals, which Gretchen wrote down on a piece of paper. “Text me with the details,” Eddie said. “I'm not sure where I'll be. I'm taking off.”

“You don't want to be seen by a doc?”

“No need to. I'm fine.”

“Ah...okay. Take care. And thank you...” Vin let the words drift because he didn't know how to say what was in his heart.

Eddie smiled in an ancient way and held his hand up. “You don't have to say anything else. I feel you.”

And then he was gone.

As the curtain flapped shut, Vin watched under its hem as those shitkickers turned to the right, took one step...and disappeared into thin air. Like they'd never been there in the first place.

Bringing his right palm to his face, Vin rubbed his eyes. “I think I'm hallucinating.”

“Do you want me to get the doctor?” Gretchen came over, all worried.

“I can use the nurse's button—”

“No, I'm okay.... Sorry, I think I'm just really overtired.” For all he knew, the guy had simply moved over to the left and was now, at this very moment, striding out of the ER and into the night. Vin tugged Gretchen down next to him. “I feel like it's over now. This whole thing.”

Well, over except for the fact that his visions were back to stay—at least according to Eddie. But maybe that wasn't a bad thing. Maybe he could find some way of channeling them or using them for good.

With a frown, he realized he'd found a new purpose. Only this one would serve others, not himself.

Not a shabby outcome, all things considered.

Gretchen opened her hand and the jewelry, especially the diamond, gleamed. “If you don't mind, though, I'm going to put these in a safety-deposit box.”

As she shoved them down deep into the pocket of her jeans, Vin nodded. “Yeah, let's not lose those again, shall we?”

“Nope. Never again.”

When the taxi pulled up in front of Gretchen's rental house, the light of dawn was breaking over Caldwell in a lovely wash of peach and golden yellow. The trip away from St. Francis had been a hell of a lot better than the one to the ER in the back of that ambulance, but it was clear to Gretchen that Vin was far from well. With his pale green, rigid face, he was obviously in pain, and mobility was going to be a problem with that arm of his in a sling. Plus he looked like a homeless man in the floppy shirt the hospital had given him, its wide-open collar showing off the super-white bandage that ran from the base of his neck all the way across one side of his chest.

“Next stop the Commodore, right?” the driver said over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Vin replied in an exhausted voice.

Gretchen stared out the window at her little house. The babysitter's car was parked in front on the street and there was a light on in the kitchen. Upstairs, Robbie's room was dark. She didn't want Vin to go back to the duplex by himself. She wasn't sure how Robbie would take to meeting him. And she felt trapped between the two.

Turning to Vin, she searched his familiar, handsome features. He was talking to her...patting her hand...probably telling her to get some rest, take care of herself, call him when she was up....

“Please come in,” she blurted. “Stay with me. You've just been shot and you need someone to look after you.”

Vin stopped in midsentence and just stared at her. Which was precisely what the cabbie did in the rearview mirror. Then again, both the invitation and the gunshot part were no doubt equally surprising to each of the men, respectively.

“What about Robbie?” Vin asked.

Gretchen glanced up and met the driver's eyes. God, she wished there were some way of putting up a partition so the guy behind the wheel didn't hear all this.

“I'll introduce you to him and him to you. And we'll just go from there.”

Vin's mouth tightened and she braced herself for a no. “Thank you...I'd like to meet your son.”

“Good,” she whispered with a combination of relief and fear. “Let's go.”

She paid the fare and got out of the cab first so she could help Vin—

but he shook his head and grabbed the side of the taxi to pull himself up. Which was a good thing, considering the way the muscles in his forearm clenched. Given how much he weighed, she was more likely to fall on him than actually get him to his feet.

Once he was upright, she hitched herself under his good side, shut the door, and helped him up the front walk.

Instead of trying to find her keys, she knocked quietly and Quinesha opened the way immediately. “My lord, will you look at you two.”

The woman stepped back and Gretchen got Vin over to the couch, where he didn't so much sit down as fall on the cushions—which led her to believe his knees gave out.

For long moments, everyone waited to see if he was going to need to be rushed to the bathroom.