Tangled Souls (38 page)

“Goddess, Bernie, she’s lost it all.”

“Yeah.” He uncorked his bottle and took a lengthy swig. “It’s easy to lose.”

“You want to come with me?”

He was shaking his head before she finished the question. “I’m going to the VA meeting. A bunch of us vets get together and bitch about life.”

“You need me to drop you?”

Bernie’s face brightened. “Yes, ma’am, I’d like that. It’ll save my poor knees.”

* * *

Bradley’s mother was exactly where Bernie had said she’d be. Despite the early-evening chill, Janet was wearing a short skirt, no hose, and a flimsy halter top—all the better to display her wares. She appeared wraith thin and strung out, just another drug addict hunting a fix.

An idea crept into Gavenia’s mind and, for once, she acted on her intuition. She dialed O’Fallon.

“Hey, lady,” he said, apparently recognizing the number from the caller ID. “So what’s new?”

“Well, I’m telling you what I’m up to so you won’t yell at me later.”

“Such as?” he asked, his voice tightening immediately.

“I’ve found Janet Alliford and I’m going to ask her a few questions.”

“Where?”

“Corner of San Julian and Fifth.” She waited for the explosion.

“Oh, God.” A low exhalation came through the earpiece. “Make it quick and call me the moment you’re out of there, okay?”

“You’re not going yell?” she asked, astonished.

“What’s the point? You’re obviously not listening to me.”

“I’ll let you know what I find out.” She glanced at her watch. “I might be a bit late for our date.”

“That’s fine, but for God’s sake, be careful.”

“I know. I’ll be careful.” She heard a faint good-bye, and the line went dead. He was probably cursing her to high heaven. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick,” she said.

Gavenia dropped the phone into her jacket pocket and jammed her purse under the seat. No reason to write
Mug me
on herself in bold letters.

She walked to within ten feet of Bradley’s mother, unsure of her reception. Janet was scanning the street with bloodshot eyes, a cigarette in a shaking hand.

Dusk was falling, but there was no one near enough to threaten her except the dead child’s mother, yet Gavenia still felt another surge of raw anxiety. She studied the street. There were no ghosts. If her previous experience was any indication, this part of town was loaded with them. Why wasn’t she seeing them?

This is weird.
She turned her attention to the wretched figure in front of her.

“Janet?”

Haunted eyes swiveled to study her. “Who are you?” the woman asked, and then took another puff of the cigarette.

“I’m Gavenia Kingsgrave. I’m the one who helped your son.”

A faint flicker of understanding. “Is he okay?”

Odd question.
“He’s at peace.”

A half smile. “Lucky him.”

Janet’s cold indifference nauseated her. If she’d been closer, she would have slapped the woman. Gavenia retaliated in the only way she could. “You sound just like your mother.”

Janet glared. “Leave that bitch out of this.”

Gavenia shrugged, trying to dampen her own anger.
How would O’Fallon play this?
The answer came quickly.
He’d run a bluff.

“You knew your son was going to be kidnapped, didn’t you?” Gavenia asked.

The eyes returned her, redder now, as if lit by demon fire. “Yeah. Taylor said it was the only way.”

Oh, Goddess, she did know.
Gavenia swallowed and pressed on. “Trying to extort money out of Gregory?”

“Yeah.” Janet took a couple tentative steps closer. “You fucking him?”

That was blunt.
“No. I just helped Bradley go home.”

The woman’s face twitched and she puffed on the cigarette in earnest, as if it would replace the fix she craved.

“So what happened?” Gavenia asked.

The cigarette butt spun to the ground and Janet mashed it with her heel in a jerky motion. “Bradley got frightened. He ran. Taylor said it was an accident.”

Ram it home.
“The cops say he was killed on purpose to cover the crime. They’re looking for this . . . Taylor . . . right now.”

Janet’s facial twitch escalated. “No, that’s not right. It was an accident. . . . Taylor said the damned dog bit him. Bradley got scared and . . .”

“Merlin bit him?”

A grotesque bob of the head. “On the leg. It got infected. Taylor was way pissed.” Janet wrapped her arms around her chest, rocking on her heels. “You’re lying. Taylor wouldn’t have—”

“Goddess, you’re pathetic,” Gavenia spat, no longer able to keep her revulsion in check.

Janet glowered at her. “You don’t understand. I had to—”

“You had to have the money. You’d risk your child’s life just to keep that high coming.”

Janet glared and sniffed, wiping her hand against her nose. It came away bloody.

Gavenia went for the jugular. “Right before he crossed over, Bradley asked about you. He loved you. It’s a pity you weren’t the mother he deserved.”

Janet winced as if backhanded. “Fuck you,” she snarled.

“The feeling’s mutual.”

Turning her back on the woman, Gavenia strode to her car at a furious pace, ignoring her protesting hip. She disengaged the locks with repeated angry jabs at the remote, slung her cane inside, and then leaned against the vehicle, her heart bleeding in time with each beat. Janet had known Taylor was going to kidnap her son and had done nothing to stop it. The drugs had been more important than her only child’s life. Her karmic debt would be monumental.

“Goddess, forgive her,” she whispered. On impulse, she opened the door and pulled out the fairy wand. Gavenia blew on the feathered top and it danced in the breeze. What a pity she couldn’t just tap the ground and all the pain would disappear.

Bart came to her mind. She leaned the wand against her forehead, recalling how he’d badgered her until she bought it.
Rituals have reasons
, he’d said.

A jolt of warning darted through her. She raised her head, hunting for the source. Janet was talking to someone and the man leaned in close and handed her something. Probably a trick. Then Janet pointed, and the man began limping toward Gavenia.

Janet’s words hurtled through her mind.
The damned dog bit him.

“Taylor,” Gavenia said. Her gut churned. Fortunately, the man was moving slow enough she still had plenty of time to escape and she began to climb inside the car. Something grabbed her and there was a whoosh of air as she was forcibly wrenched away from the vehicle. She cried out, landing on her knees on the cement, pain rocketing into her left hip. Brittle ice shot down both arms, numbing them. The flash freeze accelerated throughout her body, dulling her senses.

Gavenia felt herself lifted and then slammed against the car. Pain erupted across her upper shoulders, fiery hot in sharp contrast to the glacial cold in her limbs. She flailed, desperate to fend off her assailant, but her hands met nothing but air. As her eyes focused, she saw the face.

It wasn’t human.

“She’s fine, she’s fine,” he said like a mantra. “Probably took Janet for some food. That’s what I’d do.”

O’Fallon jumped when someone slid into the booth across from him, a beer in hand. He’d been so distracted he’d not realized Adam was in the bar.

Come on, focus.
“Good evening,” O’Fallon said, dumping the cell phone into his coat pocket to avoid staring. He had it set to ring and vibrate—no way he’d miss the call when it came through.

Adam didn’t reply to his greeting, but glared at the foam on the top of his beer as if it were the cause of all the world’s difficulties.

“So . . . what’s going on?” O’Fallon asked. More silence. He had no patience for this. “Come on, you asked me to meet you here. What the hell is going on?”

The young cop’s eyes snapped upward, incensed. “IAD me paid a visit today. They told me if I don’t roll on Glass, I’m going down with him.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, oh shit.” Adam took a deep drink of his beer and then wiped the foam off his lips in an agitated gesture. “Problem is, I don’t have anything to give them.”

“Nothing?”

“Just suspicions.”

“Damn.” O’Fallon sucked on his beer and then set the pint down with a clunk on the table. “I’d say they’re bluffing. If they had anything, they’d be talking to you downtown.”

“That’s what Carey said. Glass just doesn’t do jack in front of me. He even steps out of earshot when he gets a call from one of his snitches.”

There was no reason to keep that sort of information from your partner.

Unless your snitches are doing your dirty work.

His phone came to life in his pocket. “About damned time,” he growled, pulling it out. That garnered him an odd stare from his companion. He answered the call, not bothering to check the caller ID.

“Where the hell have you been?” he said.

“Doing my job. How about you?”

O’Fallon grimaced. It was the bloodhound, not the witch. He mentally cursed himself. “Sorry; I thought you were someone else.”

There was a slight pause and then, “The SUV surfaced and it’s in one piece.”

O’Fallon’s heart leaped. “Where was it?”

“In a parking lot at LAX. The owner was in Europe for the last three weeks.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

“The guy thought it odd his SUV wasn’t in the slot where it should be. He finds it five spaces away. He’s willing to chalk that up to jet lag, but then he gets inside. The seat’s out of position and that bugs him, and then he notices the foot pedals.”

“Foot pedals?” O’Fallon asked, extracting his notebook and clicking the pen against his chest.

“The foot pedals are adjustable, but these are too close for him to drive. We did some measuring and we’d guess the killer is about five nine.”

“Go on,” O’Fallon said, scribbling notes, his head cranked sideways to trap the cell phone against his shoulder.

“By now the owner is spooked, so he does a walk-around and finds the dented front bumper, the crushed grille, and what looks like dried blood. He freaks and calls the cops.”

“Chalk one up for an honest citizen.”

“They’re processing the SUV right now. We found the kid’s picture under the passenger seat. Larsen admits you won the bet.”

O’Fallon gave a long sigh. “That had to hurt.”

Zimansky chuckled. “Serves him right.”

“Does the SUV’s owner live in Bel Air?”

“Nope. Brentwood. He’s giving us a list of service companies so we can see if there’s a match with Alliford’s list. We’re having the parking lot pull the security tapes.”

“This is great news, Zimansky.”

“Yeah, it is. I’ll let you know what we find out. Any luck with Janet Alliford?”