A Postcard From Hell

Home > Other > A Postcard From Hell > Page 5
A Postcard From Hell Page 5

by Adrienne Blake


  Had the elevator always been this slow? I tapped my foot and kept pressing the PH button over and over.

  “Calm down,” said Liam. “Albert’s going to be okay.”

  I gritted my teeth. “It’s not just Albert I’m worried about. It’s Harrison.”

  Liam scrunched up his handsome face.

  “Look, I know my partner can be a pompous, arrogant tadpole peener when the mood is on him, I know this. But he’s never been unprofessional. Never.”

  “Except when he risked your life over that werewolf thing.”

  “Dammit, Liam, are you ever going to let that drop? We’ve all made errors in judgment,” I said. “Haven’t we?” I regretted the words even before they left my mouth.

  Liam shut up, that familiar shadow crossing his face, and I knew I’d crossed the line.

  The elevator opened directly into a small lobby. I rang the bell, then knocked on the door but no one answered. “Albert,” I called out. There was a security camera just above me. “Albert, it’s me, Dionne,” I shouted into it. “Open the door, Albert, it’s us. Please open up.”

  No response. I banged on the door a little harder.

  “Use your cell phone,” Liam suggested. “He might have barricaded himself in some place.”

  “Good idea,” I agreed, wanting badly to get back on Liam’s good side.

  I hit the recent button and called Albert straight back. The phone connected, but I didn’t hear a voice at the other end of the line.

  “Open the door, Albert, it’s only me.”

  The call ended, and I stood back, wondering if we’d be forced to blast our way inside. Luckily it didn’t come to that. The door opened a crack, and Albert’s head popped out a fraction. He wasn’t a short man, but his head came low out of the door.

  “This is Detective Wells,” I said as Albert looked Liam up and down suspiciously. “I told you about him on the phone. He’s a police officer.” Liam obligingly showed him his badge.

  A spark of acknowledgement kindled in Albert’s eyes, and he quickly beckoned us inside. This time he was carrying Diddles, though the poor dog looked more like a shield dog than a carefully guarded companion.

  “Has Harrison returned?” I asked, looking about for him as soon as we were in, but I was pretty sure he hadn’t. Albert wouldn’t have been cowering in a dark hidey-hole if my partner had already come back.

  Albert shook his head. He was a mess of nerves and would most likely be little help to us now. “I wouldn’t have let him in if he had, you told me not to.”

  So, I did. “Is the new letter on your desk?” I asked.

  Albert nodded quickly. Liam and I marched across the room, Albert sticking to my skirt tails like glue. I pulled a pencil out from my purse, turning the letter with the eraser end so we could both read what was written there.

  Return the card now, or you will die tonight.

  Just like the last message, this one was also handwritten. Using a pocket handkerchief, Liam turned the paper, exposing the unmarked reverse.

  “Did you see who delivered it?” I asked routinely.

  As I expected, Albert shook his head. “I found it slipped under the door, just like the other one. Your boss was with me when I opened it, but just after, he got a text on his phone and said he had to go and wouldn’t be long.”

  I ignored the boss comment. “Did he mention who the text was from?” I asked, my blood close to boiling.

  “He mentioned a name. Andrew or Andy, something.”

  “Andres?”

  “Yes, yes, that was it!” Albert beamed. “Does it mean anything?”

  It does to me, I thought. My partner’s ass was cooked—that’s what it meant.

  Ever so carefully, Liam refolded the paper and slipped it into his endless supply of plastic bags. “If you don’t mind, Mr. Alderton, there’s something I’d like you to take a look at.”

  He pulled out the postcard, and to my astonishment, Albert’s eyes lit up like fairy lights on Christmas Eve.

  “Where on earth did you find that?” he gasped, dropping poor Diddles as his eager hands rose, ready to snatch the card straight from Liam’s grasp.

  “You know it?”

  “Of course I know it, I paid a small fortune for it a few months ago. I’m a philatelist you know, always have been.”

  “What’s that?” asked Liam.

  “He collects stamps,” I answered. A thousand hours spent playing Trivial Pursuit with my dad clearly hadn’t been wasted on me.

  “I lost that card over two months ago. I wondered what had happened to it!”

  “So, it’s yours?” Liam said, not doubting him, but wanting him to actually come out and say the words. Police work 101.

  “Of course it’s mine!” Albert said, almost forgetting his predicament as he salivated at the mouth. “Please, give it back to me.”

  “We can’t, not just yet,” I said gently, as Liam held the letter aloft, keeping it out of the writer’s reach. “It’s material evidence in a homicide case. But it will be returned to you when we’re done with it, I give you my word.”

  Albert sneered, but he stopped swinging about making a play for the card.

  “Seriously, you two,” I said, exasperated. “Can you concentrate? There’s still a killer on the loose. Or have you both forgotten that?”

  Liam slipped the card safely back in his jacket pocket, though he maintained a discreet distance from Albert after that.

  I pulled out my phone. Now I wasn’t racing across a busy city, trying to call my partner and dealing with a crap load of worry, I could think more clearly. I ran a trace on my partner’s phone. We’d enabled tracking on both units, just in case we ever needed it—which now, clearly, we did.

  “Huh,” I said.

  “What?” asked Liam, looking over my shoulder.

  “According to this, Harrison’s still here in the building.”

  Albert looked incredulous, but Liam appeared worried. “That doesn’t seem right,” he said.

  “I agree.” We had to go find him. But I couldn’t very well leave Albert and Diddles alone, and I thought Liam might toss me off the balcony himself if I suggested he stay here and babysit. “You’re going to have to come with us,” I said to Albert at last.

  “What, and leave the safety of my own home?” Albert asked, horrified at the very suggestion. “Not a chance in hell.”

  I took a gamble and turned my back on him. “All right,” I said, “if that’s your decision, you can wait here by yourself. We can call a cop, and with a bit of luck, someone will be here in under ten minutes.”

  “Wait, what?” Albert gasped. “No way! I’m not sitting here on my own anymore! I’m coming with you guys. You’re supposed to be protecting me!” He took a step toward the door, Diddles clasped tightly to his chest.

  “Not the dog!” said Liam, his voice unusually menacing.

  Albert opened his mouth to argue, then abruptly closed it. It’s a wise man who knows when he’s been beaten, I thought.

  Albert huffed but carried Diddles over to an open door and put him down just inside it. Diddles barked as Albert closed the door on him.

  “There, there, Diddles. Daddy will be back before you get a chance to miss him, I promise, my angel.”

  I shot Liam a knowing glance and he smiled back at me.

  “Do you have a weapon?” I asked Albert. “A gun or something?”

  Albert shook his head. “Heck, no, nasty loud things. I thought that was why I hired you?” He shuddered. So much for that.

  It was showtime, as they said in the movies. I pulled my gun from my purse, ignoring Albert’s wide-eyed gasp, and with a heartbeat strong enough to conduct a symphony, I led the party out of the Penthouse, and off in search of Harrison.

  7

  Harrison

  According to the signal, we were standing right on top of Harrison, which could only mean one thing: My partner had to be somewhere directly below us on the right-hand side of the building. Riding the
elevators would take too much time, and if Harrison was stuck somewhere between floors, it might take forever to find him.

  I almost wished he was with Andres. Liam certainly seemed to think so, and why wouldn’t he? Albert had said they were together. But I knew Harrison. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

  My witch’s gut was on overdrive. Even now I could feel the surge of magic being used in this building. Sure, Harrison was a goblin and could conjure a few spells of his own, but this wasn’t goblin magic I was feeling, this was something altogether darker. Something was definitely off whack, but I still hoped and prayed that I was reading the whole thing wrong, and my old friend’s intuition was once again, bang on target.

  Without muttering more than a handful of words, the three of us had reached the thirteenth floor. This was the floor where Chuck had suffered his heart attack, and this was where Wendy and her unfortunate neighbor had been blown to smithereens.

  I had a funny feeling and held my gun a little higher and closer to my torso.

  “Wait here,” Liam whispered to Albert.

  “There’s no fucking way I’m letting you two leave me all on my own now,” Albert huffed.

  Liam’s gaze met mine. We both knew there was no other choice. Having Albert tag along sucked walnuts—it was totally against the rule book, but it was the lesser of two evils.

  “All right,” I whispered, “but keep your mouth shut and do exactly what we tell you to do.”

  Albert bobbed his head. Damn that racket, I thought, my own nerves on edge. If Albert’s teeth chattered any louder, I thought I’d knock him unconscious myself.

  I felt the usual wave of nausea that typically consumed me when I was in the presence of darker magic. The only difference was, this felt more intense than ever before. I inhaled deeply, trying to keep my shit together but conscious all the while of the cold fear as it crept across my clammy skin.

  “Dionne, is that you?”

  Harrison’s cry was faint, but I recognized the deep, growling goblin’s tone at once. With a sharp twitch of my gun, I pointed to Chuck’s apartment. The voice had come from inside. Still, I kept my weapon high.

  Ever so slowly, we walked down the corridor. We had no keys to let ourselves in now. Either Liam or I would kick down the door if we had to, though I hoped we didn’t have to. That would really cause quite a din, and we still didn’t know who we were up against, or where they were hiding.

  Liam was the first to the door, and motioning for us all to keep quiet, he leaned down and grabbed the knob. It wobbled loosely in his hand, and the door swung open quietly. Leading with his gun, Liam slipped inside, and I ushered Albert ahead of me, not because he was a man, but because I didn’t want to lose sight of him behind me. I felt safer with him sandwiched between us. He had no weapon after all.

  I could see Harrison propped up on the floor under the window, dead ahead of me. My gaze darted left and right, expecting an ambush at any moment.

  Harrison looked like crap, someone had really worked him over: his lip was split, and his hands were bound somehow behind his back. I wondered if the beating had come before or after his assailant tied him. But I was worried. Whoever had done this clearly wanted him to be found. Otherwise they’d have gagged him and left him someplace hidden.

  Slowly, Harrison lifted his head. His eyes were wide with fear.

  “Dionne,” he cried.

  My skin crawled when I realized there was another presence in the room.

  “You took your time, didn’t you, sweet little Dionne Cruz.”

  The unexpected voice sent a shiver down my spine. It was weirdly familiar to me, yet totally strange at the same time. I dug deep into my memory bank but came up with nothing. Who the hell was that?

  I swerved, and to my surprise, I saw a totally gorgeous middle-aged man, sitting calmly in an armchair. He had one leg crossed over the other, and he lounged there as casual as can be. From his body posture alone, he might have been drinking a glass of brandy in a gentlemen’s club.

  I shot Liam a look. Liam’s weapon was trained right at him—one false move and I was pretty sure my friend would blow this man from here to kingdom come. I’d seen Liam check the corners of this room with my own eyes. How the hell had he missed him? Liam’s glance met mine, and I could tell he was just as bewildered as I was.

  “You don’t know who I am?” said the silky, Latino voice.

  I looked from the stranger to Harrison, and back again. “Andres?” I guessed.

  “Ah-ha.” Andres brought his hands together in a silent clap. The college ring on his pinky caught my eye. “Bravo, Miss Cruz, bravo. A brilliant deduction, I must say. Well done, you, well done.”

  His tone was dripping with sarcasm and I wanted to punch him in the throat. “What the hell did you do to Harrison?” I asked, already tired of this bullshit. “I thought you two were supposed to be in love?”

  Andres pursed his lip and appeared more interested in something under his fingernails than answering any of my questions.

  “What a strangely linear mind you have for a magical being,” he said, rising from his seat. Out of the corner of my eye, I sensed Liam take a step forward. One more move and he’d probably put a slug in this guy right between the eyes.

  Andres snorted, drawing my attention back to him. “I was never interested in your poor, love-lorn partner. I was only ever interested in you.”

  It was hard to know which part of that sentence was stranger. What on earth was he rambling on about? The man didn’t even know me. I was just about to say something to that effect when Andres took a step forward, his hand extended out to mine, as if he expected something.

  “Not another move,” Liam growled, his tone threatening. Andres didn’t pay him the slightest bit of notice. He simply laughed, and turned his hand palm side up, expecting me to put something in it.

  “Come now, give it to me,” he said.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But my mind jumped to the card in Liam’s pocket, and I knew straight off that the postcard was what he wanted.

  My face must have betrayed me because Andres smiled. “You have it, don’t you,” he oozed in his deep, most seductive, Latino tone. It wasn’t a question so much as a confirmation. “Give it to me now, and no more harm will come to any of you. All I want is for you to return what is mine.”

  I shook my head, and the nausea I felt before grew even more intense. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied. I could feel my skin turning a murky goblin green, that part of me always became dominant whenever I was sick. Or lying.

  “Naughty, naughty witch,” Andres coaxed. He was so close I could almost smell his breath. And was that… sulfur?

  “Don’t trust him,” Harrison cried to my left. “He’s a demon, don’t—”

  Andres silenced him with a casual flick of his hand. I watched with horror as Harrison’s head dropped and the life seemed to go out of him. Holy shit! Had that thing just killed my partner?

  But that wasn’t all. Andres was gone, and in his place stood what I thought was the grim reaper. The creature stood almost as tall as the room, and he was cloaked entirely in black. I could not see his face. I half-expected to see a skull peering through the hood, but I could see nothing. The room filled with the stench of brimstone, and I heard the carpet sizzle and scorch as he moved.

  Albert gasped and clutched at his chest.

  Please, God, don’t let him die of a heart attack! Albert was white as a ghost, and as the demon came for him, I thought he was going to drop from a coronary right there in front of me.

  “You!” stammered Albert, somehow managing to keep his shit together. “You’re doing all this for a goddamned stamp?”

  The demon laughed, throwing his caped head back in a mighty chuckle. I groaned. He definitely knew we had the postcard now. “Oh, sweet Lord,” he cried. “You gave them eyes, but they do not see.” He still sounded like Andres, although his form was now completely different, completely inhuman
.

  “What the hell does that mean?” I said, trying to draw the demon’s attention away from old Albert and back to me.

  “I have no interest in a paltry stamp—well—that’s not entirely true, money is money after all, but that’s not what this is all about. No, I have my sights on something much, much greater.”

  Whatever the demon’s game was, I could tell he was having a mighty fine time of it. But I was tired, and I needed this to be over soon. We were going around and around in circles and getting nowhere, and the longer we delayed, the more powerful I sensed the demon was becoming. He sucked out our fear like seeds from a watermelon.

  “So, tell me what it is you do want?” I asked.

  The demon sighed. “Very well, Dionne Cruz, I shall play your little game, but this is your last chance. As I said before: I want the card you carry, and in return, I might let you walk away from this charade with your life. Those are my terms and I suggest you accept them.”

  I was tempted. After all, what was the card to me? But then I remembered the slipstream, and the power of the magic I felt there. If this demon were to get what he wanted, who knew what he could do?

  “But I don’t have it!” I said. “You can search me if you like, but you’ll find nothing on me.”

  The last thing in the world I wanted was to let Andres, or the grim reaper, or whatever name this damned demon went by, put his hands on me. He might find my wand, and if he took that away, we’d all be completely defenseless. And if he was the grim reaper, well, then I’d be toast.

  What was it they said? It took a witch to control a demon. That meant it was entirely up to me to save us. Somehow, I had to get this demon in Chuck’s kitchen, then douse the bastard from head to toe in sea salt. It was the only way. But how to get him in there?

  “Well, if it’s not on you, then one of the others must carry it.”

  A pair of bony arms stretched out, and the demon advanced on Albert.

  “No! Wait!” I cried. “Stop!”

  The demon paused and turned to face me. “I have it,” I lied, stalling for time. “And I’ll tell you where I’ve hidden it, but on one condition.”

 

‹ Prev