by T. G. Ayer
Camden gave his partner another glance, but all he got was a stiff glare, as if Landry had already made it clear he didn’t want to discuss the subject. Too bad.
Camden hesitated, but then turned back to me, his expression determined. “Joe’s got a lot to be concerned about, but I think we have to put it all aside and think of the missing kid.” Giving his partner one last glance, he said, “So, we respond to the call, we rock up to find the mother dead, the father distraught and Gina in the study comforting him.”
Then he paused and gave a short ironic laugh.
My silence was a prompt enough for him to continue. “They were sitting on this loveseat near the fire and he had his head on her chest while she stroked his hair and whispered stuff to him. As soon as we entered she let go of him, but the old man, he seemed a little dazed, then flushed as if he’d realized their position would have looked a little compromising to us.”
“And of course it did.”
“Yeah. Joe and I just exchanged curious glances, but we commiserated with him and began the interview. We had to force the kid to leave.”
“Let me guess. She insisted he needed her support?”
“Yup.” Camden nodded, his demeanor now much more relaxed, although Joe was still sitting there stiff-necked and disapproving. “So Santiani is distraught, no idea what happened to his wife, or why she’d do such a thing. They’d apparently had a true love marriage and had planned to be together until death did them part. I mean, from the way he talked about his wife you could just see how much he loved her.”
“And what was it that you found odd?”
“His behavior when his daughters were around. At first, we’d wondered if there was some kind of problem between the father and the girls, like maybe they blamed him for the mother’s death. But we soon realized that it was only in Gina’s presence that Santiani became uncooperative. His tone changed, he became more aloof, more defensive. And less of the perfect husband.”
“Meaning?”
“He just sounded less in love, less dedicated to his wife.”
“As if it embarrassed him to talk that way in front of his daughter?” I suggested.
Camden nodded but I could tell he was thinking more along the lines of afraid or ashamed. I’d never know until I saw them interact for myself.
“And when did you realize that the change in behavior related more to Gina than Gia?”
“Second interview. Apparently Gina had a piano lesson. Both girls had them, but we arrived while she was practicing so she wasn’t aware we were there.”
“She’d have heard the doorbell?”
He shook his head. “The music room is soundproofed so they don’t disturb the household. Think it was because of entertaining.” I nodded and waited. “So when Santiani spoke to us in Gia’s presence he seemed totally different. So calm and his demeanor was so much more affectionate and natural.”
“Affectionate to Gia and not Gina?”
“Yeah, I found it odd. But then some parents have favorites so who was I to question that.” He paused, both of us aware of the tension coming off Landry as he sat and listened in silence.
I twisted my glass in place and watched as droplets of condensation cascaded to the surface of the table. The ring of water reflected and distorted the images of both the men. “Ok, so what was Gina’s behavior like in comparison to Gia’s?”
Camden took a deep breath and said, “Gia’s expression for one. She’d grin at her dad. You know that cheeky kid grin? And she’d poke a finger in his arm or nudge him. Physical contact would be throwing an arm around his shoulder or ruffling his hair because she knows he hates having it mussed.”
“His reaction?”
“He’d lean in for the hugs, grin and shake his head while he righted his hair. Mock-groan when she poked at him. The usual playful father behavior.”
“And not so with Gina?”
“Hell, no. With Gina he stiffened up, moved an inch away when she reached out to touch him. There were a lot of looks they exchanged where it seemed to me that she was urging him to either say or do something he didn’t agree with. All in all, it made us, both Joe and me, more than a little uncomfortable.”
“And the interaction between the sisters?”
Again Camden’s face clouded. “That was strange too. At first we assumed again that it was the shock of their mother’s death maybe numbing Gia’s reaction.”
“How so?”
“Well, she was so reserved, so quiet when Gina was there. She barely spoke a word and obeyed Gina as if she was the mother. She came across as timid, quiet.”
“Bullied?”
Camden looked away as if he’d thought the same but hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself then. He was probably thinking the same thing I was; that if Gina turned out to be responsible for her sister’s death then he and his partner would both be guilty of having done nothing at the time to help a girl who was being bullied.
He cleared his throat. “There was always this undertone of tension when the girls were together. I felt at the time that Gina maintained a strict control over her sister. Perhaps it’s just that Gina is high-strung, volatile, maybe even undiagnosed mentally unbalanced. Maybe the family knew this and behaved that way in order to keep her calm?”
He stared at me pleading with me to agree that it was possible. When I said nothing, he flicked his glass within the nail of his forefinger so hard that it shifted a couple of inches leaving a trail of moisture on the table.
“Who the hell am I kidding.”
He was silent for a bit, and I took advantage of the moment and devoured the donut. Sure enough, I could almost taste the magic in the food. Not that it did anything to me. One of my problems was that light joyful magic like this had little effect on me.
Pity.
I glanced up at Camden, wiped powder off my lips and said, “What happened when you questioned her?”
This was all in the report but I wanted more detail and he seemed to understand that.
“She turned on the charm. Got all touchy-feely, pouting. She put the moves on Joe here, but I figured he could handle it. I would have gone into the room but the stupid cameras and microphones were on the blink.”
I sat up straight. “Is that a common occurrence? For your camera system to act up?”
Camden shook his head. “No. It’s not. The system is top notch. I mean we’re partly funded by the residents of the suburb, so we don’t have such complaints. The cameras and mic’s, like the air conditioning and the security systems are all funded by the residents. We don’t have those kinds of issues simply because they are so well maintained.”
“And what happened when you went into the room?”
Camden sat back stiffly now, uncomfortable for the first time.
“I told you this isn’t something we should be talking about.” Landry had been silent for a while but now he spoke, his voice rough and low. He seemed nervous now, his skin was sallow and spots of red flecked his cheeks and neck. Nerves raised on his fisted fingers, and the muscles in his neck were so tight they looked like ropes.
Camden glanced at his partner and his expression indicated he wanted to agree.
“Look. I didn’t come here to make either of you uncomfortable. Clearly your experience with this kid wasn’t the nicest one, but I hope that you can look past that in order to help me find Gia. Whatever you say is completely off the record. My only interest is Gia.”
Still, Landry remained silent, but my words seemed to have calmed Camden somewhat. He sucked in a ragged breath. “Okay. So when I opened the door I got the shock of my life.”
“Keith . . .” Landry’s voice was soft, but filled with warning.
“It’ll be ok Joe. Morgan’s word is good. I checked her out and her rep is solid.”
Interesting that he’d done his homework.
He shifted his brilliant green eyes to mine. “What I saw when I entered the room was not what I was seeing on the video outside.”
“No. We were in a high-security room. No windows. We’d started up in a room with a two-way glass, but we noticed a crack in the window so we relocated for security reasons. Now that I think about it, it was damned convenient.”
I wanted to agree but figured my silence was enough.
“So what did you see that was different?”
“On the screen, they were sitting at opposite sides of the table.” He paused shifting in his seat. Landry was looking out the window. “But when I entered the room she was straddling Joe’s lap, her skirt riding up so high you could see her underwear, and she had half Joe’s buttons undone. She was kissing him and she just looked up at me, totally innocent and says Joe was comforting her and things got a little out of hand.”
I refrained from looking at Landry. Instead, I said, “And Joe had no idea what had happened?”
Camden nodded. “He looked out of it. A little drunk. To be honest I was pissed at him thinking he could come to work drunk, but I realized soon after that the kid was some kind of seductress. If I believed in that magic shit I’d say she was one of those sucky things.”
“Succubus.” I was trying hard to hide my smile.
“Yeah, those. Seriously, man. She messed with his head. Seems like she wanted to compromise him so we’d leave the case alone.”
“And did you?”
“Not at first. We were pissed off. Joe was upset. We kept it to ourselves. Didn’t tell the Captain anything. Kept looking into things. We even interviewed the butler, but he had an alibi.”
“Which was?”
“The pool maintenance guy.”
I smiled.
He paused and tilted his head. “Same alibi for Gia’s disappearance?”
I nodded preferring not to spend any further time discussing a person who, instinct told me, was innocent even if he seemed to have an oddly recurring alibi.
“So . . . Gina?” I prompted.
Camden rubbed his head, mussing his neatly combed hair. “We kept digging and then a week later she pops in for a visit pretending to want an update on the investigation. And then she says she has photos.”
“And she showed them to you.”
“Yeah.”
“Let me guess. Photos taken with the security camera that wasn’t working at the time.”
Camden laughed. “You’re good at this. You have experience with people like this?”
I nodded and smiled. “More than you ever want to know.”
He sighed and glanced at his partner. “Joe, I had to tell her. You know that.”
Landry shrugged. “Your choice. But if word gets out that we talked, then don’t blame me for the consequences.”
“What consequences?” I asked, meeting and holding his gaze.
He remained silent.
“Is she threatening you?”
His left lid lowered ever so slightly.
I wanted to say that even if she was threatening him that I could protect him, that I could stop her from meting out whatever revenge she felt she needed. But I couldn’t. Not until I knew better who I was dealing with.
I sighed and shifted to throw the strap of my bag over my shoulder. “Well, Det Landry,” I said loudly. “It would have helped me a great deal if you’d been able to tell me something about the case. But since you don’t believe there is anything to tell, I guess I’ll have to go look somewhere else for details on this case.”
I spoke louder than I usually would have, hoping that anyone sitting nearby, intent on eavesdropping, would hear my words loud and clear.
The relief on Landry’s face was enough to tell me I’d been right, but I did him the courtesy of ignoring it.
Somehow, Gina Santiani had threatened Det Landry.
And she was still threatening him.
Chapter 14
The meeting with the two detectives had given me too little and gotten me nowhere. It confirmed my suspicions of Gina and amplified my distrust of her.
To Camden she’d been a seductress of sorts, but the attention she paid to her father troubled me. I couldn’t ignore the danger in which I’d placed Det Landry with my inquiries, and I had to hope he’d be fine.
Getting people killed while trying to avoid the death of my own client was not the best way to go about an investigation.
My worry was Gina. What was she up to? Was she tangibly linked to Gia’s disappearance? And as much as it wasn’t my case, what did she have to do with her mother’s death?
I shook my head as I drove up to my house and parked in front of the building. The sight of it never failed to bring back memories of my parents, my family before the horror that had ripped my childhood apart and haunted my every step for all these years.
My own sister was gone, but I knew, somewhere in that place where I just knew things even when all evidence pointed to the contrary, that she was still alive. Call it sisterly intuition, or tracker instinct, or even some fucked up sense of survivor’s guilt, but I knew she was alive and that someday I would find her.
I’d deal with the consequences then, whatever remained of my sister, whatever hell she’d been through, was going through. I didn’t care. I would bring her home.
And I wouldn’t rest until I did.
Entering the kitchen, I was surprised to find Saleem occupying a seat near the stove, peeling potatoes while Drake stirred a steaming pot.
The pair looked well domesticated, and the scene made me smile as I dropped my bag beside the doorway. Until they looked up at me in unison and I recognized the haunted, troubled expressions they both wore.
Too strong to ask for help. Too proud to admit weakness; a downfall of many a man before this pair.
But whatever their problems were, they were also mine to deal with whether they liked it or not. Whether they wanted it or not.
Drake gave me a quick scan head-to-toe, checking if all parts remained intact, then with a small nod he returned his attention to the pot.
Saleem got to his feet and came toward me, curling an arm around my waist. He pulled me into a hug that even I had to admit was comforting.
Perhaps he needed the comfort, or he needed to give comfort because deep down he knew he was the one that needed it the most. Kinda like my reaction when compelled to be touchy-feely.
Whatever the reason, he hugged, I squeezed back, then pulled away as soon as the heat between us began to sizzle. Never took much when the two of us were within arm’s length of each other.
A few hours later, hidden by the shadows of a moonless night, we crouched behind a fat oak tree-trunk. Over the stone wall, the outline of the two-storied building loomed, the hulking shadow broken only by smudges of yellow light.
“I think this is a bad idea.” My words were whispered as I dared to break the silence. Sound carried further at night and I preferred silence while on a mission, this particular case bothered me far too much to remain complacent.
Saleem gave a dark angry glare. “We’ve discussed this.”
He was right. I’d told him I thought this was a bad idea and that we should wait to have a better plan and more backup. I’d thrown Logan and Kai at him, trying to convince him that a team was better than walking by ourselves into what could very well be a trap.
But Saleem, in his own wisdom, had insisted on coming if only to satisfy his need to know his mother was still safe. And still alive, although he didn’t say that out loud. His eyes said enough.
And I understood.
I did.
Which was why I was crouching on the ground, hiding behind a tree watching a darkened house with Saleem at my side.
I suppressed a sigh, shifted my weight from one foot to the other and said, “Okay, I’ll project inside just to check things out.”
In acknowledgment, Saleem glanced at me and saluted me, forefinger to his temple. His gaze flitted over me, a curious mix of concern, hunger and impatience.
I smiled and sat on the ground, ignoring the short grass poking into
the fabric of my pants. I pushed my bag, full of weapons just in case, against the tree trunk, and used it as a pillow. “Keep your hands to yourself while I’m gone.”
I sank into the Ether and felt for the thread of feedback that was Saleem’s mother. It glowed with life, showing both her strength and determination, as well as her health. Although captive, this woman was no prisoner.
I glided easily to the source of the feedback. When I’d first projected, I’d used the feedback like a rope, holding onto it for dear life. But with experience and time I’d reached the stage where all I needed was to feel the energy of the line with the edges of my mind. A tender caress as opposed to a deadly strangling.
The power in the feedback strengthened, thicker and denser now, and I came to a halt. I’d arrived at the source of the feedback.
Despite the ease with which I’d made the journey, I was very aware that if I made any sudden or violent moves, my energy could shift the waves in the Ether enough to alert any mage who was watching the wards.
I was always careful, but it did help to be super vigilant. I’d rather avoid tipping them off that we were here. And that we knew the queen was here.
As my awareness strengthened, and the room came into view, I understood why the queen’s feedback was so strong. She was in a right fury.
Walking back and forth she mumbled something beneath her breath. Anger radiated from her like a heatwave and her tanned cheeks were flushing a deep gold.
I hovered in the corner, assessing the situation, worried that she’d give me away if I startled her.
When she stopped in mid-stride and turned to stare at the corner behind a wide tapestry-covered armchair, where my essence floated, it was me who was startled.
Her eyes narrowed as she studied the space and I hoped she was annoyed at the existence of cobwebs, or a spider lurking in the shadows.
Sadly, her suspicious expression deepened, and she stepped closer, glanced quickly over her shoulder at the closed door, then took another step toward the corner.
She paused at a lamp table, picked up a small book and brought it with her to sit in the armchair.
