Gray Night (22 page)

 He shook my hand. I had no idea who he was or what he was doing here, but he knew Adrian and Nick, and he clearly was not expecting me. He was maybe fifteen, dressed nice, even if it did look third-hand, but was clean and, now neither of us saw each other as a threat, seemed shy.

 “Pleased to meet you, Thomas. Say, what was it you meant by
what is wrong with you people?
”

 “Man, both times I come here first thing happens is someone points a gun at me. I mean yesterday morning I was just sitting out there in the hallway,” he said, pausing and looking around the office. “Holy hell man, what happened here?”

 So he was here yesterday morning? Interesting. I sat on the corner of the desk and asked, “Thomas, what was it you were saying about yesterday morning?”

 “Uhh, right, yeah so I was sitting out there in the hall. Was waiting for Mr. Roarke and all when some guy leans around the corner of the stairs out there pointing a gun at me. It was a misunderstanding with Mr. Knight, but man you sure gave me a scare when I came in.”

 Was it before he’d gotten the call to come to the museum? And after his meeting with the FBI. What was he doing here?

 “I’m sorry, Thomas. I thought you were someone else.”

 “Nah, it’s all right. I get it. Rough business I guess. What is it you do here doctor?”

 “I left some things I needed to come back for, but if you don’t mind my asking, why are you here? What did you come to see Mr. Knight about yesterday?”

 “Oh, no ma’am. Doctor. I was here to find Mr. Roarke, the private investigator. Everyone says he helps people. Finds lost kids and stuff. Mr. Knight was here working the office for him while he was away on some business or something. So, you know, I’m here because I done everything like Mr. Knight asked and I wanted to know if he’d found anything or what else I can do.”

 I crossed my arms and tilted my head curiously. “Found anything? What is he looking for?”
      He looked at the floor and rolled his head around. “My sister,” he said.

 The well of competing emotions overflowed again. “Thomas,” I said. “Come with me. I think you need to tell me everything from the beginning. Then we’re going to find Adrian.”

 Adrian wasn’t working an angle in this. He was working a whole different case and he’d lied to me about it. We didn’t have time for this. Not with a solid lead on this Auction. I tried getting angry, but a look at Thomas attempting to be stoic, and failing, ruined that. I couldn’t even imagine what it cost Adrian the moment Thomas said, “missing sister”. No way he was going to walk away from that. Then to go straight to the museum. I suppose I didn’t have the monopoly I thought I did on bad days yesterday.

 My eyes burned again. Stupid well.

* * * *

 Once again, I missed out on slow-cooked Southern ambrosia. Jabari was closing and cleaning The Box diner between lunch and dinner, but he left a table out on the sidewalk and a pitcher of sweet tea and glasses for me, Brandon, and his friends. Good man, Jabari.

 “So I mean that’s it. We called the police and they sent a car out. After finding the bodies like we said they called in a bunch more cops and some of those CSI lab guys who spent a long time doing different things around the bodies. They even took the broken piece of Ruby’s heel. Anyways we convinced three of them to stay and have a look around after an hour of questions. One of the older officers stayed with us while the rest went out and searched around the buildings,” Brandon said.

 “Go on,” I said, pouring another glass of sweet tea.

 “Guess they didn’t find much cause when they came back all anyone did was have us fill out a report and they left,” he said.

 “Not all of them. The old man, he stuck around and—” said one of Brandon’s friends.

 “Yeah I’m getting to that part. Right, so this old cop, the officer who sat with us while the others were out, we got to talking and laid out everything for him and he decided to stay after the others left. Said he knew Nick Roarke by reputation. Anyway he wanted to stick around while off-duty and get us to…what was the word he used?” Brandon asked the table at large.

 “Canvass. Said we should canvass the area,” said another of Brandon’s friends.

 “That’s right. Canvass, yeah. So, he organizes us all, and tells us what all to do, and what to ask and look for and things, then goes around with us before it got dark. Afterwards he says to wait and finish in the morning cause it could cause trouble wandering around at night like that,” he said.

 “Sounds like a good guy,” I said, taking a drink.

 “Yeah, but they didn’t find nothing,” he said.

 “Well, that’s good and bad,” I said thinking.

 “How do you mean?” he asked.

 “It’s good because we know she wasn’t attacked by the same type of guys who attacked us yesterday. And since she wouldn’t have gone far and they didn’t find any trace of her, means she was never there to begin with. It narrows our search,” I said.

 “And the bad part?” he asked, leaning forward.

 “We found the heel. We found the shoe. We know she was there and now we know she didn’t go anywhere else. That can only mean one thing,” I said.

 “She was picked up. Right around there on the street,” said Brandon, dropping his head to the table.

 I nodded. It was a worst-case scenario. Not only could Ruby be anywhere, but the kind of people who would abduct an injured prostitute off an abandoned street in the middle of the night were, ten times out of ten, not the most altruistic.

 “We already knew that though. We found—” said the same friend Brandon had cut off while ago.

 “I’m telling him, okay,” Brandon snapped, rising up again.

 “You found something?” I asked.

 “Yeah. This morning we went out and did some more of that canvassing thing. Talked to folks and such who live nearby. Ain’t many still staying around here, but we found an old couple. Said they’d heard a scream out an open window. Went to look and saw three people standing out around a white van, and the man yelled at them and they all got in and left in a big hurry,” Brandon said.

 “A white van? Right down there by where we found her heel?” I asked.

 “Yeah, they live at the end of the block. Up a couple of stories.”

 “Did he say anything other than white? Any markings? A license plate? Could he see any other details about the people below?”

 “Nah, said it was real dark and they was shadows. But he knew for sure a girl screamed. Didn’t say anything about the van other than it was white. Only saw the back.”

 “All right, here’s what we need to do—” I was interrupted when the two sets of footsteps I’d heard coming down the sidewalk behind me stopped and a woman cleared her throat in a way that said it was just for me. I could only imagine the holy terror her eyebrows had in store.

 “Hello Claire,” I said without turning around and wincing. Not even a little. I swear.

Chapter Twenty

 “Oh, good you’re here. Hey, Brandon,” Thomas said beside Claire.

 A round of “hey” rose from the table.

 “Would you excuse us for a moment please?” Claire asked him.

 “Uh, yeah sure. Of course,” Thomas said, taking my seat when I rose.

 I turned back to the table. “Hey guys, go ahead and fill him in while I talk to Dr. Spurling.”

 Brandon nodded and Thomas grabbed a clean glass to pour himself a drink.

 Claire slipped her arm in mine and nudged me into walking down the sidewalk. I highlighted my wisdom and valor by keeping my mouth shut.

 “I take it this is where you ran off to the past two days,” she said more than asked.

 “Yes.”

 “Looking for his sister, Ruby.”

 “Yes.”

 She nodded and kept looking straight ahead while we walked. Several minutes went by just strolling. Traffic was light, the sky clear, the air crisp, and once or twice we jaywalked across a street. Some part of me kept an eye out for federal agents when we did.

 “You lied to me,” she said, breaking the silence as we passed an old pawnshop.

 “Yes.”

 “Tell me why.”

 I couldn’t tell if she was digging for a specific answer or trying to pick a fight, but like I said earlier, if there’s going to be trouble at least make it over the truth.

 “It was never a question of priorities or one being more important than other,” I explained, careful to avoid tripping on the broken pavement. “I want to find the son of a bitch responsible for Henry and George and Rollins as much as you do. Henry Wagner was the only person in this hemisphere willing to work with me and that…look, I knew going after the artifacts would take time. Time that a missing young woman doesn’t have. You want a
why
, fine. Henry is dead. Ruby might still be alive. It’s as simple as that.”

 Claire stopped walking as we climbed an empty bridge over the highway. She shivered in the cool breeze and stared out at the sounds of the city beyond. “Is she really missing?”

 I looked around and sighed. “I thought it was curious enough to check out. Then I was called to the museum. But from the beginning it appeared more and more that something happened to her. Ruby’s boyfriend, Brandon, and his friends, caught a break this morning. Old man in an apartment heard a woman scream and saw people struggling on the sidewalk, then got in a white van and drove off. It was Ruby.”

 She took the time to process everything I’d said. “How can you be sure?”

 I told Claire everything. How we retraced Ruby’s flight from the diner and discovered her broken heel in the grate, and shoe in the building down the street from the old man’s apartment, and how the buildings were searched. And how Brandon and I were attacked.

 Her eyes snapped up to face me. “You mean you knew about those guys before they came to the office? Why didn’t you tell me?”

 “If you will recall, I was a little preoccupied when I swung by the office to pick you up last night,” I reminded her in a sharp tone.

 She started to say something, then stopped and frowned.

 I continued a little softer. “It was a hard day. A difficult night for you too I’m sure. You were scared, you were uncomfortable, you were hurt, do you really think knowing about the warehouse attack would have made you sleep any better?”

 “No,” she said, breaking eye contact. “But I’ve had a good night’s sleep now. I want to know.”

 I nodded. “I didn’t know what to say until we talked to Irish this morning. The ones that jumped me and Brandon weren’t like the ones you saw last night. They were feral. Likely more of those homeless addicts that Irish had seen. The ones that came after you were controlled. They took orders from the smaller guy downstairs. And with three of them like that, it’s even possible those were the same ones from the museum.”

 Claire shivered again despite the lack of wind at the moment. “I hadn’t thought of that. That they could have been the same ones.”

 “If we’re lucky one’s dead and the rest out of commission.”

 Claire looked up at me again. “None of that changes the fact you lied to me.”

 “I told you I worked alone. I didn’t ask you to get involved,” I replied in a neutral tone.

 “I was involved the second my friends were murdered!” she snapped, taking a step closer.

 “The only reason you are still alive is because I didn’t want more blood on my hands from some too stubborn, too headstrong, little girl getting in over her head!”

 I was angry and had no idea where it was coming from. Claire stared at me without expression. I bet that was difficult for her. It wasn’t even a stare. She just looked at me.

 And it confused the hell out of me. Which for some reason seemed to soften her mood.

 “I found them,” she said a moment later.

 What was she talking about? “You found the artifacts? The book, the obsidian daggers, the jewelry?” I asked uncertain.

 Her eyes smiled at my expression, which was more confusion. “Yes.”

 “Where are they?”

 Claire’s mouth turned a ghost of a grin. “You don’t care how I found them?”

 “Curious, yes. Care, no,” I said, crossing my arms.

 “What do you know about The Auction? Capital
A
.”

 “Some kind of underworld—I don’t know—market or fair or something held every couple of years dealing in about everything. Guns, drugs, women, black market goods, illegal fireworks. You name it it’s probably there.”

 Claire threw her hands up in frustration. “Did they run a television ad or something that I missed?”

 “What?” I asked as the confusion kept on coming. Which only seemed to improve her mood further.

 “Never mind,” she said, shaking her head. “There’s an Auction tomorrow night. Joe Vitale is sponsoring it and the artifacts will be there. I talked to a man that was called early this morning to verify their authenticity for a potential buyer.”

 Interesting. “And the potential buyer was?”

 “Never met him. All third party. Said he didn’t know and didn’t want to know.”

 I nodded. That was standard.

 “Vitale, yeah,” I said, shaking my head. “One more reason Diamond Jack is on edge.”

 “Yes.”

 “Nothing for it. We’re going to have to find the Auction. Then find a way in. Find what we’re looking for amongst a gazillion other items for sale, all of which are going to be under max-protection and we’ll be surrounded by the biggest movers and shakers of the criminal underground throughout New England. Oh, and then we have to get them out unnoticed. And let’s not forget identifying the original thieves and bringing the killers to justice.”

 “That’s right,” Claire said with as much false confidence as she could muster. It looked good on her.

 “Damn straight it’s right.”

 She smiled, but it faded. “I don’t know how long it will take to find. I don’t even know where to begin. And we are revisiting this lying business when all this is over, but for right now I…” she paused, struggling to finish and biting her lower lip. “I need you.”

 That must have hurt like hell. I took a deep breath and rubbed the back of my neck, thinking. I glanced back down the street from where we’d come.

 “Do you know what the odds of her even being alive are, Adrian?” Claire asked.