Reckoning: A Fallen Siren Novel (10 page)

BOOK: Reckoning: A Fallen Siren Novel
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CHAPTER 10

Day Three: Wednesday, September 4

This time I made sure the alarm was set on my cell phone. I waited until Kallistos was asleep, set it, then secreted the phone in my slipper. Now, as it chirps, I reach down to silence it and feel Kallistos stir beside me.

“So that’s where you hid it?” he says, rolling toward me to rest his head on my shoulder. “I wondered why I couldn’t find it.”

“Exactly why I hid it.” But I take his hand and kiss it. “Thank you for last night.”

“Want a reason to thank me for this morning?” He’s taken my hand and slid it down the flat plain of his abdomen to rest between his thighs. He’s hard and ready.

“Can’t.” It’s a reluctant admission. “I have to shower and get to work.”

He sighs and lets me remove my hand. “I’m only acquiescing because I know your work is important to you.”

“And because you have your own inquiry to launch?”

“You are getting to know me well.”

And so we both climb out of bed and head for the shower.

“Time for a soak?” Kallistos asks innocently, eyes on the tub.

“I thought you had things to do?”

His robe is on the floor and his body, long, lean, and oh, so ready, is a hard temptation to resist.

“I’m going to take a shower—a quick shower,” I repeat. “Maybe I should take it alone?”

He slips my robe off my shoulders. “I’ll be good.”

But even as he speaks, his fingers are between my legs, coaxing, teasing. My traitorous body is responding.

“We have to make it quick,” I rasp, my body already on the verge of climax.

“Oh, we will.”

He brings me to the brink with skillful manipulation, pausing only long enough to turn on the shower. By the time the room is filled with steam, I’ve come once, twice. We step inside and the warmth envelops us. He wants to keep pleasuring me, but I stop him.

“Your turn.”

Then I’m on my knees, gripping his hips. I take him into my mouth, lips first teasing, then sucking, then drawing him deep. He’s groaning and moving with me. His hands tangle in my hair. I feel his muscles tense, feel the pressure build. It takes only the subtlest of movements, the pressure of my lips, my tongue sweeping along the ridge of his shaft, to bring him to climax. He shudders, releases, and trembles in the aftershock.

He pulls me up, crushes me to his chest.

“This was supposed to be a quick shower.”

“Next time,” he whispers. “Promise.”

*   *   *

Somehow, I still manage to make it in before seven. When I step off the elevator, the office is already abuzz. Zack looks like he’s been up all night. Normally he’s all spit and polish. This morning the tie and jacket are off, his shirt is rumpled, and he’s sporting a beard thick enough to be attributed to several days of an average man’s growth.

“Tell me you haven’t been here all night.”

“I haven’t been here all night.” He takes a sip of steaming coffee from his mug, then motions toward the break room. “Fresh pot. And Garner brought in doughnuts.”

I sigh. “That man is a heart attack waiting to happen.” I look over Zack’s shoulder. “Got anything?”

He slides his chair back and stretches his neck. “Besides the great big ball of tension between my shoulder blades? Not really. The night was essentially a bust.”

I break off half of the uneaten French cruller on his desk and pop a piece into my mouth. “The school’s faculty and staff look clean?”

“Squeaky, as was Julie’s computer and the cell phone logs for all of the girls. As anticipated, we found calls between Hannah and Sylvia, but nothing between Julie and the other girls. No texts, no private messages, nothing. Nothing to tie Julie to them and nothing that seemed to shed any light on what each of them was doing to earn that two hundred dollars per week.”

He sounds disappointed, and I completely understand why.

“What about Sylvia’s computer?”

“Billings is working on it now. But to be honest, I’m not hopeful. We need a break and we need it fast.” He
lowers his voice. “I think we should have another chat with Rain. More to the point, I think
you
should have a chat with her. It could be she knows something but doesn’t understand the significance of it. Or there’s something she forgot. Something you could help her remember.”

He’s right. I just need a few minutes alone with her. My powers extend beyond seduction in mortals. I can also use them to ferret out the truth, though the consequences can be dire for me. “Do we want to try to catch her before school?”

Zack picks up the phone and starts to dial. “I think that would be best. I’ll call her house.”

“I’ll wait for you out front. Tell her we’ll see her in an hour. That will give you enough time to shower and change. And to shave. Trust me. You need it.”

*   *   *

Rain Johnson’s home is quite unlike the other girls’. The cheerful yellow bungalow with the blue planter boxes filled with pansies is surrounded by a small picket fence enclosing a rose garden. Dwarfed on either side by homes four to five times its size, the tiny cottage sits on prime beachfront property at the end of Narragansett Avenue.

The front door opens before we have a chance to ring the bell, revealing a woman who appears to be in her midthirties.

I pull out my badge. “We’re here to see Harriet and Rain Johnson. I’m—”

“We’re expecting you.” She steps aside, inviting us in. “And no one calls me Harriet anymore except Jimmy. I’ve gone by Harmony since before Rain was born.”

“Your paper.” Zack hands her the
Union Tribune
he retrieved from the porch.

Harmony tosses it into the mail bin by the door. “I keep telling them I don’t want their stupid paper. Establishment propaganda, everything in it. Do they really think a free trial is going to change my mind?” She walks, barefoot, through a small entryway. Her long blond locks, flowing skirt, and peasant blouse are a throwback to the sixties. Whereas Rain is personified by harsh, dark edges, her mother is the picture of softness and light.

“Your roses are quite lovely.” I follow her down a hallway lined with family pictures—a recent school portrait of Rain alongside old black-and-white images of bygone years and faded color photos from the sixties and seventies. One of a toddler appears to be a very, very young, very toothless Jimmy Johnson. I point it out to Zack and we share a grin.

“The roses were planted by my great-grandmother,” Harmony is saying, drawing our attention back. “The house has been in our family for over a century. I’ve lived here all my life. So has Rain.”

We enter a cozy living room where Rain is waiting, curled up in the corner of a bright green overstuffed sofa along with a ginger tabby. Although the hair, makeup, and clunky boots are the same, the rest of her signature style has been usurped by the traditional school uniform—facial piercings further accentuated by the frame of the stark white Peter Pan collar.

“Rain, you remember Agents Armstrong and . . .”

“Monroe,” I add.

The tabby suddenly spies Zack, hisses, then bolts over
the back of the sofa, disappearing behind a wall of royal purple drapes.

“Hmm. That’s weird,” Harmony says. “Tiger loves everyone.”

“Probably smells Zack’s dog,” I lie. “He’s a big ol’ wolf hybrid.”

That gets a raised eyebrow from Zack, which I ignore as we take seats across from Rain in chairs covered in yellow and pink paisley chintz. Splashes of vibrant color are everywhere—bright throw pillows, braided rugs, and the drapes. It awakens a long-dormant memory of being inside a gypsy caravan. This room has the same feeling—a combination of well-preserved antiques, what looks to be several lifetimes of prize flea-market finds, and a variety of shades and patterns to rival those found in Willy Wonka’s closet.

“Are you any closer to finding Julie?” Rain asks.

“We’re hoping you can help with that,” I tell her. “We have a few more questions.”

Rain glances toward her mother, who has yet to sit down. “I can handle this, Harmony. You don’t need to stick around.”

“You sure?”

Rain nods. “I’m fine, really.”

“I volunteer at the co-op on Wednesdays and Fridays,” Harmony explains.

Zack rises. “If you’re the white Prius, we pulled into the driveway right behind you. I’ll walk out with you and move our car.” He glances back over his shoulder at me then follows Harmony toward the front door.

Suddenly Rain and I are alone.

I hear the front door close. Zack will stay outside,
giving me time to work my mojo with Rain. The ability to extract truth is one of my gifts but it’s not an exact science. If I’m not careful, anyone near me when I unleash the power can get caught in the wake. It’s happened with Zack before. I need to make sure it doesn’t happen again. As Liz keeps reminding me, an encounter like that might awaken feelings in him better left undisturbed. It’s the memory of certain events that was altered, not the feelings that led up to them.

I listen to the sound of Zack’s voice, drifting in through the open living room window as he makes idle chitchat with Harmony. Assured that we won’t be disturbed, I begin the process of lowering my shields and tapping into my power.

The temperature in the room climbs a few degrees. A wind rises up within me, escaping on a subtle, perfumed breeze. A delicate yet complex blend of white florals layered atop citrus begins to permeate the room. The drapes flutter. A strand of hair escapes the coil at the nape of my neck and drifts in front of my eyes. I tuck it back behind my ear.

Rain watches me, eyes wide, lips parted. She leans toward me, attracted by a force she cannot begin to understand. “Something’s different . . . your skin.”

I fight to contain the glamour, but hints of my true self have obviously begun to leak through.

“I’m trying out a new moisturizer. We don’t have much time, and I know you want to help find Julie. Right?”

“Absolutely!”

I move so that I can sit next to her on the sofa. “Rain. I’d like you to think about the conversations you’ve had with Julie over the past six months.”

“Okay.”

She’s no longer withdrawn, curled up in the corner of the sofa. She’s engaged, expectant—sitting up, leaning forward, hanging on my every word and anxious to help.

“Did Julie ever talk about needing money?”

“She used to, but not so much anymore. Not in quite a while.”

“We spoke before about the fact that Julie has an account at the bank. That she’s been making regular deposits. Do you know where the money comes from?”

There’s a long pause.

I wait.

Seconds tick by.

“I’m not sure,” she says at last.

“Not sure?”

“I feel like I should know . . . but I can’t remember.”

I watch as she struggles to answer my question. But it’s not her memory that’s a problem. Or her willingness, for that matter. She wants to answer—she can’t help but do otherwise—and she knows she should be able to. I’m certain of it.

So is she.

Now that I’ve required her to sift through her store of memories, she’s detecting something. A hole. A blank file where something
should
be.

I’ve encountered this a few times before over the centuries. The possible explanations can be narrowed down to two: a vampire’s thrall or magic. Either way, someone wiped a memory,
the
memory. At one point in time, Rain knew something about the money. The realization is unsettling. It means we’re up against someone supernatural
in nature. And it means finding the girls has become even more urgent.

Rain’s level of agitation is rising. “Why can’t I remember?”

It would do no good to press her further, so I lie. “It’s not important. Don’t worry about it. Relax.” I wait a moment for my suggestion to take root, to allow her to stop fighting to remember what she can’t and focus on the second thing that’s stymied Zack and me. “You said before that Julie wasn’t friends with Hannah and Sylvia.”

“They didn’t hang out or anything, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Maybe not
in
school. But we’re trying to look for connections, Rain. Any activities they might have shared outside of school? Anything at all occur to you?”

Her eyes widen.

I hold my breath.

“The college trip,” she says.

“College trip?”

“Every year the school takes sophomores on a college trip. A few seniors go along, to share what their college search experience has been like, encourage the younger girls to ask questions,
really
weigh the pros and cons of each college they visit. I just now remembered, Julie was assigned to room with Hannah and Sylvia during the trip.”

We’re getting close to something. I can feel it. Every case has a turning point, a moment when the pieces, all seemingly unrelated, start to one by one fall into place.

If the trip occurred in the first half of June, that
certainly would fit our timeline in terms of the bank deposits. Hannah and Sylvia both opened their accounts in late June. Could Julie have shared whatever was netting her almost a thousand per month with Hannah and Sylvia during this trip? All three girls were scholarship recipients. Money might certainly have been a topic of conversation among them.

I sit back. “Rain, when was the trip?”

“Sometime in June. Right after school got out. I don’t remember the exact dates. I didn’t go. I already have plans to go to CalTech. They’re offering me a full ride. Plus, I’m not so much about the bonding.”

“Did Julie mention anything that happened on the trip? Anything out of the ordinary or upsetting? Anything about Hannah or Sylvia?”

Rain shakes her head. “I gave her my condolences when I heard she had to room with the Barbie twins. We didn’t really have much of a chance to connect over the summer since, you know, Julie’s parents don’t approve of me.”

“You said the school sponsors the trip. Who does the chaperoning?”

“Teachers, sometimes parents.”

Hope sparks. The three girls roomed together for a number of days. Zack didn’t come up with anything suspicious about the staff at Point Loma Academy. This new information makes me want to dig deeper. The college trip was an important catalyst. I’m certain of it. We need to follow the money. Rain won’t be of any help, but one of these girls must have confided in someone.

BOOK: Reckoning: A Fallen Siren Novel
6.13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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