Spellbound (29 page)

But he also had leverage on her.

It was difficult enough to become a real professional peace officer as a woman. If word got out about how her Power worked, then that would be the end of her dreams. Considering the level of corruption in the world right now, no real department was going to hire somebody who could sense the internal rot.

As one who’d made a life out of figuring out the truth, being blackmailed to keep her secrets safe was particularly galling. So now she was hunting somebody who she had a distinct impression was a completely innocent man, on behalf of somebody who, near as she could figure, was completely evil. Daddy would be ashamed. He wouldn’t have let some Yankee thug bully him into dishonest work.

Hammer sighed and got back to her job. She might not have inherited her father’s integrity, but she had certainly inherited his work ethic. Used to living on the road, packing her bags only took a few minutes. She made a little ritual of checking each of her handguns before stashing them about her person. As somebody who knew just how dishonest the world was, she never went anywhere without protection.

There was another choice. Hammer pulled her car off to the shoulder and got out. Pretty country here, all farms, fields, and patches of trees wherever it was too bumpy to cultivate. It was greener than where she’d grown up in Texas. There was no traffic, which made her job easier. She walked to the middle of the crossroads.

Sometimes when her quarry had to make a choice, she didn’t even have to use her Power to tell which was the true way. Some roads passed by, but there had been no real choice to make there, so her quarry had just kept on going. Sometimes she just knew, because she understood the people she was hunting. Other times, when it wasn’t clear, where there were a few possible paths, that was when her Power came in.

Hammer slowly turned in a circle. West, south, east. She’d come from the north. She pushed her Power, and could feel it inside her chest, ready to hunt. It was like she could hear her daddy’s words, clear and true as the day he’d taught her.
Know the outlaw. Know his mind. Know what he wants. Then your magic will show you the truth.

She opened her eyes and knew that Sullivan had gone south. Hammer started walking back to her car.

There was a sudden noise, like the rustle of a vulture’s wings.

She turned to see a man in black standing behind her. The Bisley Colt came out of her coat in a flash.

Crow tipped his hat in greeting. “Hammer.”

She didn’t lower the gun. “Where’d you come from?”

“I was born in Philly,” he lied. He saw her frown. “Just testing you. Put that away before you hurt somebody.”

Reluctantly, Hammer lowered the revolver, though she kept it in her hand. There were no cars in view. He had come out of nowhere.
How had he found her?
“You scared me.”

“That’s my job.” That time he was telling the truth.

“Are you a Traveler or something?”

“Or something.”
Truth,
and Hammer cursed herself for wasting it on a stupid question. “Your current assignment can wait. I’m assuming you can pick up the trail later.”

Truth was harder to see, the older it got, but he didn’t need to know her limitations. “Sure.”

“I need you to meet me at the courthouse in Alexandria. I want you to listen to something.”

“Can’t you just tell me here and save us the trouble?”

“I need your professional opinion. Can you tell if somebody is lying from a recording?”

“Usually . . . How did you find me?”

“Trade secret. Meet me there in an hour.”

Hammer turned and gestured at her car. “How’re you—” but by the time she’d turned back, Crow had disappeared. She turned in a quick circle, but he was nowhere to be seen. Feeling stupid, she put the Colt away.

“Well . . . Looks like I’m working for Old Scratch,” she muttered.

Daddy would not be proud.

The OCI agent manning the courthouse door knew right away who she was and led her to a small room by the judge’s chambers. Crow had been there waiting for her with an audio tape already threaded into a complicated player. He didn’t bother to greet her and she didn’t bother asking how he’d gotten there so quickly. There were already four fresh cigarette butts in the ashtray. “Close the door.” Crow gestured for her to pull up a chair, then he flipped a lever and started his machine.

Hammer had to tilt her head closer to the speaker horn. She could recognize Crow’s voice.
“I want to talk to you about the Grimnoir Society.”

“I do not know this thing you speak of.”

“Spare me the lies, Fade. I’m familiar with your little club and my assignment is to destroy it.”

“Torture me all you want, I have nothing to say.”

Crow turned a knob and stopped the player. “This is one of the Grimnoir we captured, a German immigrant by the name of Heinrich Koenig. He was there at the assassination attempt. The rest of his gang think he’s dead. I want you to tell me when he’s lying.” Crow turned the knob and the tape began to turn.

Hammer listened carefully. Detecting lies was the easiest use of her Power. She’d practiced it so much that it was automatic, unconscious, and barely even drew on her supply of magic. The Grimnoir was truthful. He was scared for his friends and loyal, but she didn’t need magic to tell her that. Crow, as usual, was a bundle of deceit.

“That is ridiculous. I tried to save the man, not kill him.”

Crow’s voice came on next, but the man quickly turned the knob and stopped the tape before she could hear what he had to say in response to that. “So, professional opinion?”

“Magic evidence isn’t admissible in court, but this man’s innocent. That’s plain as day.”

Crow took out another cigarette and a matchbook. “I’ll pass that along.”

“So what are you going to do with him?”

“He’ll get a fair trial.”
Another lie.
Crow sighed, “All right, you got me . . . Can’t lie to a Justice . . . The German is to be executed as soon as my superiors are certain that he’s outlived his usefulness. National security matter. It’s out of my hands.” He struck a match with his thumb and lit up. He shook the match out and tossed it in a waste pail. When he returned the pack of cigarettes to his pocket, he made a big show of finding something inside. “Reminds me . . . While you’re looking for these Grimnoir, watch for these.” He produced a ring and handed it over.

Hammer tried not to let her surprise show when the gold and obsidian ring landed in her palm. She’d seen this exact type of ring before.

“This was found on the assassin. The German wore one of these, too. All the Grimnoir have one. Even if they don’t have it on, they’ll have it nearby. Keep an eye out for anyone wearing one of these. If they’ve got this ring, they’re the enemy.”

Reluctantly, she gave the ring back.

There was a hard knock on the door. “Come in,” Crow ordered.

One of the OCI men stuck his head in. “Mr. Crow, you’ve got an important call from headquarters.”

“Got to take this . . .” Crow muttered. “This might take awhile.” He walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. He’d left the ring on the table.

Hammer stared at it. There was no mistake. Though he had never worn one himself, her father had told her about the men that wore these.

She picked the ring up. It had carvings all along the inside. Crow had said that it was the assassin’s ring, so she pushed her Power a bit to see if that was true. The impression she got was that Giuseppe Zangara had been the last man to wear it . . . only he hadn’t worn it for very long at all. Before Zangara, another man had died wearing that ring. She pushed harder, trying to see the true history of the ring. The image was fuzzy. The actors were strange. The ring’s true owner had been shot in the back and the ring had been stolen off his dead hand. It had been on so long that they’d broken the finger prying it off.

The truth faded and she put the ring back on the table.

She had to let Crow know the assassin was not a member of the Grimnoir Society.

But Crow was made of lies. Hell, he was a lie. Whatever he really was, he was certainly no normal man. He couldn’t be trusted either . . . Hammer’s gaze turned to the tape player. He had been in a mighty hurry to stop it. The door was still closed. The machine was still running. Hammer turned the knob.

“I know! You should be getting a medal, not rotting under OCI headquarters. Heh, just between you and me, I know you Grimnoir didn’t do it. We’ve already got conclusive evidence upstairs. But nobody in charge is going to see that evidence until I’m done cleaning house. I’m sure as hell not going to let a good crisis go to waste. My office just got a blank check to do whatever we needed to do to get you people under control. You know how rare that kind of pass is? In a little while, Congress will go back to getting cold feet and fretting about overstepping its bounds, but by then it’ll be too late for your kind.”

For once, everything Crow had said there was completely true. He knew these people were innocent and he had the evidence to prove it . . .
the rat bastard
. Hammer heard a noise from the hall so she quickly stopped the tape.

Crow came back in, shaking his head. “Politicians riding my ass . . .” He looked at her suspiciously. “Why the long face?”

“Nothing. Ready to get back on the case is all. You need me for anything else, Mr. Crow?” She wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.

“Naw. We’re good here . . . You know, Hammer, I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot. You’re one hell of an investigator and you’ve got a rare gift. We’re both professionals here. Once you’ve found Sullivan, maybe you should think about coming to work for OCI as a full agent. We’re not the BI. That was your original goal, wasn’t it? No place for girls there though. OCI don’t care. Looks, brains, Power, somebody like you could go far with us.”

Snowflake’s chance in hell of that.
“I’ll keep it in mind.”

After Hammer left, Crow checked the player. Sure enough, she’d played the rest of the tape. People with integrity were
so
easy to manipulate. They were like reading an open book. Especially when, because of the rarity of their Power, the OCI had been gathering information on them for years. Even with somebody you couldn’t lie to, you just had to figure out which truths you wanted told, and then steer them into filling in the blanks themselves.

One of the men reported in a while later. Just as expected, after getting away from the courthouse, Hammer had pulled her car over and spent twenty minutes searching through it and her bags.
Perfect
. He had wanted her unnerved and thinking about how he’d been able to find her in the middle of nowhere so easily. She’d found the tracking rune that he’d had scratched into the paint just under the bumper and destroyed it. He had specified that it shouldn’t be made too hard to find. That would make her feel like she’d won, like she’d outsmarted him. A small victory would make her more confident that he could be outwitted, and that would make Hammer brave enough to make a hard decision.

Which was right where he wanted her.

Hammer found herself back at the crossroads.

Her father had taught her how to track, magical or otherwise, how to defend herself, how to listen to her magic, and all of the other useful skills that she’d used to make a good living. He’d also taught her about right and wrong, and how sometimes the truth can be somewhere between the two.

If the OCI’s mission wasn’t evil, then it was damn close. An innocent man was going to die for a crime he’d tried to prevent, and if Crow had his way there would be many more to follow.

She thought of the ring. She’d been a little girl then, gone to her father’s office to bring him a lunch basket. A stranger had been there, wearing that same ring, and so she’d waited outside. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her and she’d listened through the crack as the stranger talked about trying to find someone that was using magic to commit crimes, and how he wanted to catch the criminal before it drew too much attention to
their
kind.

Afterwards, her father had talked to her. Of course he knew that she’d been spying. You can’t lie to a Justice. He told her that such men were a force for good, and that though their existence was to be kept a secret, they were on the side of truth.

She knew that he’d helped them a few times. He’d done things over the years that were outside the scope of his duty as a marshal, dangerous things, and when he’d come home he’d never spoken about them. In a family where lying to your children was impossible, sometimes you just had to say nothing at all.

Lee Hammer had been a good man. Tough, quiet, hard as rawhide, but always kind to his family, fair to his people, and unyielding to his enemies. She’d grown up knowing that her father’s reputation as an impossibly dedicated lawman had been well earned. He was the one to call when there was a dangerous fugitive that absolutely had to be found. She knew that it was because he could always see the truth of things, but that had been their secret, one Active to another. He was careful to teach her to only use her Power for good, to serve others and not just herself. She’d never been as good at that as he’d been, though.

Then he’d been gunned down by a gang and carried home on a plank. She still wore his star on a chain around her neck. Her dream had been to follow in her father’s footsteps, but nobody was going to hire a young lady for that kind of work. Marshalls said no. Rangers hadn’t wanted her. The BI had laughed at her. The only places that had female police relegated them to pushing paper as glorified secretaries.

So instead she’d used her skills in other ways, greedy ways, helping anyone that could pay her enough to get an edge over those that couldn’t. Corporate espionage wasn’t the same as catching crooks, but it had some of the same thrill and it certainly paid better than working for the law, but it had always felt hollow.

So, trying to follow her dreams again had roped her into something even worse.