Midnight Lullaby

by Jen Blood

  We briefed her on our progress with the story, which was minimal, but it was obvious she wasn’t that focused. Finally, at shortly past eight o’clock, she shook her head and got up from Buzz’s chair.

  “I’m sorry—I think I’ll need a few hours’ shut eye if I hope to be any help at all over the next few days. You two have a safe place to stay?”

  “We’ll be at Wolf’s again,” Solomon said. “You sure you’ll be okay at your place alone?”

  Alice laughed dryly. “I’ve got two cops in my driveway, girlfriends and neighbors calling me, family dropping by... I’ve never felt less alone in my life.”

  After she’d gone, Solomon lay her head on her desk and closed her eyes. I thought of my brother, suddenly—that light touch on my hand on the way to the hospital. What do you want? he’d asked.

  I got up, went over, and stood behind her to massage her shoulders. “We should go,” I said. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow if you plan on tackling Foster.”

  “I still don’t know how I’m supposed to do that.”

  “We’ll figure it out. We know where he’ll be, and there should be enough chaos that you’ll get at least some chance to connect with him. The pictures may make a difference.”

  “Davies knows about them, and he hasn’t been banging down our door. Maybe he already told Foster.”

  “It’s possible,” I agreed.

  I straightened, took her hand, and pulled her out of the chair. When she was up, she slid into my arms and stayed that way for a minute or more, silent. My eyes sank shut when I felt her hands slip under the back of my shirt. The energy in the room changed.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  She tipped her head to look up at me, but kept her hands where they were. “It’s an experiment.”

  “To learn what, exactly?”

  She stood on her tiptoes. I leaned in and met her halfway, our lips brushing lightly at first. It was still new so I let her set the pace, more than happy to match her when she deepened the kiss. My hand shifted to her ass and I pulled her closer, my hips pressed to hers. I felt as much as heard her breath hitch.

  When we managed to put some distance between ourselves, she was grinning.

  “So, what exactly was that experiment?”

  “I just wanted to see what would happen if I kissed you,” she said simply.

  “And? Was the experiment a success?”

  “It wasn’t not a success. And I think I’m starting to get why all the tramps in Littlehope were scratching at your door.”

  “Oh yeah? Well, it’s about time you started to appreciate me for something other than my sharp wit and the ability to buy you beer anytime you want.”

  “Right. I knew there was a reason I’d kept you around this long.”

  ◊◊◊◊◊

  Wolf was already at Johnny’s house when we got there, standing alone in the backyard staring into the pond.

  “He’s gonna lose his shit soon, you know,” Solomon said as we watched him from the kitchen.

  She was right—he looked like a man on the edge of the abyss. He hadn’t slept in days and I never saw him eat, much less shower and shave.

  “He must have scared the crap out of Rafferty,” she said.

  It was something I would have liked to see. “Why don’t you go talk to him? I’ll check the fridge, see if I can round up something for a late dinner.”

  I watched through the window as she spoke with him. He was gentle bordering on genteel with her, but there was still no hiding his grief and frustration.

  There were a couple of steaks in the fridge that weren’t past their Use By date, along with corn on the cob in the crisper and baking potatoes in the pantry. I grabbed all of it, armed myself with salt, pepper, butter, and aluminum foil, and told Wolf to fire up the grill.

  Half an hour later, the three of us sat outside waiting for the potatoes to cook through before I put the corn and steak on. I was two and a half beers into the evening, Solomon one. Wolf had water that he had yet to touch. He’d barely spoken since Solomon and I got there.

  “You think maybe if I go back, Rafferty could tell me where to find that reporter?” he asked after a particularly long silence had fallen.

  “The one who wrote the piece about the African soldier? The message on his voicemail says he’s out of the country,” I said.

  Wolf shrugged. “So. There are planes... If I knew where he was, I could go. Beats the hell out of just sitting here waiting for the phone to ring.”

  “We might find out something when I talk to Foster tomorrow,” Solomon said.

  I got up and put three ears of corn wrapped in aluminum foil on the coals beside the potatoes. There were bug lights out and citronella candles on every available surface, but a few mosquitoes had still managed to find their way in. I swatted at them absently, took another pull from my beer, and stood by the grill, turning the corn every few minutes.

  The backyard wasn’t huge, but Charlene had made good use of the space. Between plants and the privacy fence, it was easy to forget we were in the middle of Portland.

  Solomon and Wolf sat side by side, not talking. I returned my attention to the corn and turned it again. Johnny’d had the whole place wired for sound, and Solomon had put on a Tom Waits CD—Closing Time—that played in the background. Potatoes almost done, corn grilling to perfection, I turned to grab the steaks so I could start them.

  And froze.

  Doug Philbrick sat in the chair beside Solomon. He wore his dress blues, his shoes shined to perfect black. In his left hand, he held a service revolver. He stared at me for a long moment without moving before he slowly turned the gun toward himself.

  Solomon said something from a distance. I was dimly aware of Tom Waits’ voice—younger, stronger, the gravel barely there yet. Philbrick smiled at me.

  “Wake up,” he said. “Tomorrow’s a big day, jackass.”

  Diggs,” Solomon said again.

  I shook myself out of whatever the hell I was seeing.

  Wolf had moved to the grill, and dropped the steaks on as though I hadn’t just completely disappeared in front of his eyes.

  “Hey,” Solomon said. “Are you back?”

  “Yeah,” I said. I ran a shaking hand through my hair. Philbrick was gone, all three chairs empty now. “I’m all right.”

  Wolf glanced at me wordlessly. There was something in his gaze that suggested he’d seen his fair share of ghosts over the years himself.

  “You and Erin splitting your meat?” he asked. He flipped the steaks neatly, leaving a perfect sear.

  “The meat’s all mine,” Solomon said. “Diggs isn’t a carnivore.”

  Wolf gave me shit about it. I didn’t listen. A tenor sax sang out on the stereo. Philbrick might be gone, but I couldn’t shake the image of him sitting there with that revolver.

  Wake up, he’d said.

  I was definitely awake—there was no question of that.

  Tomorrow’s a big day.

  How big? What the hell did that mean?

  “Here,” Wolf said. He put a plate in my hands, with a foil-wrapped baked potato, corn, and a hunk of steak that I knew I wouldn’t eat. “Take a seat.”

  I went inside and grabbed myself another beer. Solomon was still nursing her first.

  “You want one?” I called to Wolf.

  “I’m good, thanks,” he called back.

  The three of us sat down. Moths beat around the lights above us. One of them got too close to the flame and I smelled the singed wings on the air. I asked Wolf if he minded if I smoked, but dropped it when he just narrowed his eyes at me.

  A few minutes later, his cell phone rang. He answered, frowned, and excused himself to take the call inside. Less than sixty seconds passed before Solomon was on me.

  “What did you see? Or whom?”

  “Nothing—I mean...something. But I don’t really know. It didn’t make sense.”

  “Diggs. Give me a break. Who was it?”

  “
Philbrick,” I finally admitted. “The cop from LA. He was just sitting there, in a freshly pressed uniform and shiny black shoes, with his service revolver in his hand.”

  She didn’t even blink. I’d had no idea seeing dead people would be so laissez faire for her. “Did he say anything?”

  “‘Wake up.’” I repeated the words, thinking about them even as I said them. “‘Tomorrow’s a big day.’”

  “That’s all?”

  “That’s all,” I confirmed. “Not a lot to go on.”

  Wolf came out then, looking even more frustrated than he had before. “Johnny needs me to go over to the lake house—there’s something up with the alarm there. It happens a lot, but I need to make sure there’s not a real problem.”

  “So you’re leaving us?” Solomon said. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Or you can come out to the lake, but if there’s something going on I’d rather not have you underfoot while I’m trying to deal with it. I called Hector. He’s coming to watch the place. Keep the alarm armed at all times, and don’t leave the house without talking to Hector or me first. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  He gave us a quick rundown of the alarm system one more time and showed us to Johnny’s gun safe, which was better stocked than an NRA convention. When he was gone, Solomon and I returned to the garden. As soon as I heard his truck drive off, I lit a cigarette and inhaled with profound gratitude. Solomon gave me a look, but didn’t tell me to put it out.

  While I smoked with one hand, I slid the other to Solomon’s chair. I twined my fingers with hers and we sat there in companionable silence. Despite the peace and the nicotine, I was having a hard time truly relaxing. The appearance of Philbrick had set a bad tone, but Wolf leaving was the thing that really bothered me.

  “We should go over what we know,” Solomon said eventually. It was something Buzz had taught us: sometimes you’re so lost in the weeds you forget the basics of the story you’re writing. Recapping the bullets helps.

  “Charlene Dsengani is killed Wednesday night,” Solomon began. “You run into Jacob Deng, her former husband from the Sudan, on the pier beside her body. He tells you no one with the mark is safe, and Charlene is only the first to die.”

  I put out my cigarette and turned my chair so I could face her, letting go of her hand. “Then we find out that Lisette, Charlene, and Mary were all taken by Sefu Keita—a Sudanese witch doctor known for sacrificing kids and using their body parts to make money from black magic spells. And Charlene’s husband was Sefu’s apprentice.”

  “Bobby Davies and Rick Foster were in the Sudan partying with Sefu while Lisette, Charlene, and Mary were all in the picture. Literally,” Solomon added.

  “Eugene Elias starts stalking us the night I find Charlene’s body. He leaves photos with the neighbors for us on Friday night.”

  “And someone comes in while we’re gone, and leaves a weird Voodoo effigy on your wall.”

  “Saturday night, Buzz is attacked at the paper.”

  “And Bobby Davies is afraid of Rick Foster,” Solomon added. “And he knows Eugene Elias, even if he won’t admit it.”

  Wake up. Tomorrow’s a big day.

  “Madame Rose said the rituals are done for power,” I said, thinking out loud now. “Wealth, and power. If Foster spent time with Sefu, he’d know that the witch doctor thought Charlene had a lot of power, wouldn’t he?”

  “So it would stand to reason that sacrificing her would give the sacrifice-ee a hell of a lot of Mojo,” Solomon picked up.

  Tomorrow’s a big day.

  For whom?

  The words clicked into place in an instant. Something dropped in my gut. “Get inside the house,” I said.

  “What?” Solomon asked.

  “Just go inside,” I repeated. I could barely get the words out. I was an idiot. “Now. Go in the house.”

  “But—”

  “Now!”

  She got up; I was already on my feet.

  “You’re too late,” Philbrick said behind me. I whirled. He stood less than a foot from me, revolver pointed at Solomon. “I told you—there’s too much at stake.”

  I pushed Solomon toward the door. She ran through Philbrick like he wasn’t there—because he wasn’t, I reminded myself.

  “What’s happening?” she demanded.

  She went inside the house. I pushed past Philbrick and followed, my lizard brain, the non-logical sphere I couldn’t reason with, half expecting him to fight me; to drag me into some murky purgatory with him. I slammed the door behind us and locked it. Solomon tried to turn on the lights.

  Nothing happened.

  “Another brownout?” she asked.

  “Call Wolf,” I said instead of answering.

  I found a flashlight on a table by the door and shone it on Solomon. She had her phone out and was punching in Wolf’s number.

  “What am I telling him?” she asked.

  I didn’t know. “Tell him to come back—”

  Music roared through the house suddenly, the Tom Waits CD we’d been listening to earlier as high as it would go. “Midnight Lullaby” played in the dark house, but when I tried to turn on the lights, they still wouldn’t come on.

  “What’s happening?” Solomon shouted over the noise.

  I found the stereo and turned it off.

  Meanwhile, Wolf had answered. Solomon handed the phone to me.

  “He wants to talk to you,” she said. I had no idea what had already been said.

  “What’s wrong?” Wolf asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I confessed. “Something. Have you heard from Hector?”

  The music tore through the place again before I could hear his answer, and my phone cut out.

  “Diggs!” Solomon shouted a warning to me. I whirled, prepared for a fight with Philbrick or my brother or some other long-buried specter from my past.

  Instead, a tall, mustached man stood in the darkness. He held the stereo remote in one hand. In the other, he held a gun.

  Chapter 20

  Eugene Elias—or the man I assumed was Eugene Elias—turned the stereo off again and tossed the remote on the counter.

  “Now that was fun,” he said, laughing. “You should have seen your faces. It was just too good to pass up, what with all the hocus pocus going on around here lately.”

  “Good one,” I said.

  “No hard feelings,” he said. “Just having some fun, you know?” He waved the gun toward the living room. “Go on in there, let’s make ourselves comfortable. We’ve got some things to talk about.”

  “I don’t suppose you want to turn the lights back on,” Solomon said.

  “I just flipped one of the breakers in the kitchen—rest of the place is fine. Though we could do this in the dark just as easy.” He had a Boston accent, a thick one, but the dichotomy between that, the gun, and a sort of down-home way about him was hard to get a handle on.

  “Do what, exactly?” I asked.

  “Move first. I’ll tell you after.”

  He followed us into the other room, his gun turned on Solomon the entire time. He nodded me into an easy chair that had a partial view of the kitchen, but grabbed Solomon by the hair once I was down and jerked her into a loveseat beside him, practically pulling her into his lap. She struggled against him until the muzzle of his gun bit into her temple.

  “Easy, you little wildcat,” he said. “Play nice.” He reached across her and turned on a table lamp that cast a pale glow across the scene.

  “I thought it was past time we met,” Elias said. He stretched one arm casually around the back of the loveseat. His other hand held the gun, pointed steadily at Solomon.

  “We already know who you are,” Solomon said. “And who you work for.”

  “Is that right, sweetheart?” He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. Fury, jagged and razor sharp, ran through me. “You two are smart, aren’t you? Well then, how about we cut to the chase? My employer would like to find Lisette Mandalay�
�he’s very invested in that. Lisette and the kid she’s traveling with. You tell me how to find them, and we can call it a day.”

  “You’ll let us go if we tell you where they are?” I repeated. “That’s it? We’re done after that.”

  “Exactly,” Elias said affably. “No hard feelings. Nobody gets hurt, we all get to live another day.”

  “Is that what you told Buzz?” Solomon said.

  Elias grinned. “The old man? You’re right, that whole thing was too bad. But see, I can be a little unreasonable when I don’t get my own way.” He ran his hand through Solomon’s hair, gently at first, then suddenly twisted it around his fist and pulled until her head was yanked back and her throat exposed. I could see her clenching her teeth to keep from crying out. He moved in and whispered something in her ear; her entire body tensed as she tried to get away.

  I lunged while his focus was on her. Before my ass was out of the chair, he’d shifted his grip so the gun was pointed under Solomon’s chin, forcing her head back even further.

  “Unh uh, lover boy,” he said. “Sit down. I forgot my manners, though, not including you in our little secret. My ma would whip my ass for that one. Why don’t you tell him what I said, sweetheart,” he said to Solomon.

  She didn’t move. He dug the gun in deeper under her chin. Moved a little closer. This time, she couldn’t help but cry out. He let her go.

  “Go on, hon—tell him.”

  “If we don’t tell him, he’ll...” Her eyes shifted to the gun he held. He ran the muzzle over her breasts, then down lower. She closed her eyes. I could see her shudder from across the room.

  “Let’s just say I can be very creative with this gun when the need arises,” Elias said with a smile, eyes never leaving mine. “If you know what I mean.”

  “I think I get the gist,” I ground out. Solomon opened her eyes and looked at me. It took every internal reserve I had to hold her gaze and stay steady. “So...okay, fine. You want information. That’s not a problem. But maybe you could let her go first—”

  “Nope, I don’t think so. There’s one deal: you talk, and I don’t do some very nasty things I’d love to do with your sexy little friend here. How easy is that?”