by M. G. Herron
“Did Alek tell you that my mom died, a couple years back?”
Anna pursed her lips and nodded.
“I didn’t know it at the time, but my dad spent most of the money they had socked away for retirement on the funeral. Popular woman, my mother, and he wanted the best for her. I didn’t find out how he’d funded it until afterwards.”
“Ah,” Anna said.
“Shortly after that, I decided it was finally time to put the gas on this little business of mine. It seems dumb to think about it now, but my mom would have wanted to see me succeed and, in a way, I felt I owed it to her for not doing better when she was alive.”
Anna put her hand to her mouth.
“Anyway, I took out the loan, and started the process. But then my dad had a heart attack.”
She must have realized where the story was going, for tears had gathered in her eyes. “He didn’t have health insurance?”
“Nope. Not even basic healthcare. And he could have qualified for Medicare at the time, but it was too late for that. So...” I shrugged.
“So, you took the funds you got for the loan and used them to pay off his hospital bills.”
I nodded. “That’s right.”
“All of them?”
“Every one.”
She nodded. “And then business slowed down.”
“Bingo.”
“Where’s your dad now?”
“Down at Port Aransas, drinking himself to death on the beach.”
She nodded. “I’ll do whatever I can. No one should suffer for lending someone else a helping hand, especially family.”
“Thanks, Anna. That means a lot. But it’s my responsibility.”
“All the same.”
Awkward silence crouched between us.
“Can we talk about something else?” I asked.
“Of course. I’ve been thinking about the Kovak case, too. I get that you’re taking on multiple contracts right now, so, maybe some of the ideas I had could help.”
Uh oh. I pursed my lips. “Like what?”
“Well, it just seems like there’s more to it than some power line worker killing his partner. You’ve seen plenty of cases like this in the past, haven’t you? How many of them had you on edge like this? How many of them were bad enough to make you try yoga?”
I laughed. “It’s not yoga, I’m just meditating. To help with my headaches.”
She leaned forward, eyes bright. “Yeah, well, anyway, I saw the photos of that so-called ditch. Whatever made that came in hot and fast.”
I ran my fingers through my hair. Something about that phrase sounded familiar. “Wait a minute, you’ve been reading Marsha Marshall’s website again, haven’t you?”
She leaned back and crossed her arms. “Apparently, so have you.”
I’d read all Marsha had to say on the matter last night—she was closer to the truth than she knew, but that didn’t mean that I wanted Anna snooping around based on Marsha’s half-baked reporting. The paranormal investigator was attuned to this alien stuff, that was impossible to deny. For years now, Marsha had been raving on her blog about the existence of aliens. Problem was, she only knew half the truth. Like every UFO nut, Marsha Marshall was always looking to the sky, when they were living right here under our noses.
“The police are working the case,” I said. “I’m working the case. Why are you trying to get caught up in this?”
She scoffed. “What? You don’t think I’m capable?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying?”
Yeah, Gunn, what are you saying?
I took a deep breath.
A second later, Vinny came out of the kitchen carrying a steaming pizza, generously topped with pineapple, ham, and thinly sliced jalapeños. We both grew awkwardly quiet as he slid the pizza onto the table between us.
“Enjoy, you two,” he said, grabbing my shoulder and giving it a squeeze.
I waited until the kitchen door swung closed to continue. “All I’m saying is that Marsha Marshall has some crazy ideas. Honestly, she seems more than a little crazy herself.”
Anna looked at me like I’d just kicked her cat. “Crazy? She is not crazy.”
“Oh, so you know her now?”
“And what if I do?”
The gloves were off, at this point. “I’d say you’re full of it.”
She practically jumped out of the booth.
“Anna, come on, don’t be like that.”
“And why not? You clearly don’t take me seriously.”
My heart sank into my stomach. “I’m sorry. I should know better when to keep my mouth shut. Will you please sit back down?”
She tapped a foot while her fists slowly unclenched at her side.
“I’m a world-class jerk, okay? A jerk who still can’t eat a large pizza by himself.” I picked up a slice and wiggled it in her direction.
She sat back down, rolled her eyes, and cut a small piece for herself with a plastic fork. “I’m doing it for the pizza.”
“Good enough.”
Anna hesitated, then said softly, “I usually don’t let myself get close to people. I like you, Anderson. You’re a good man. But it’s hard for me.”
“I like you, too. I just wish you’d let me deal with Kovak. This one is dangerous enough to scare the bejesus out of me. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
She chewed in silence but didn’t give me a firm yes or no on the matter. Instead, she changed the subject. “You know the owner of this place?”
“Vinny Moretti. He’s a good friend.” As the words came out of my mouth, I knew I meant it. I wanted to go back and talk to him about everything that had happened with Elekatch and the Peacekeepers but I couldn’t excuse myself from the table without arousing suspicion.
Annabelle’s phone vibrated. She set her pizza down and dug it out of her purse.
When she saw the screen, she inhaled sharply and glanced up at me. Her eyes shone. I’d never seen that look on her face before, but I would know it in anyone—it was the same feeling I got when I was about to corner a fugitive after a week-long pursuit. Damn, I’ve missed that feeling these last couple bewildering days. I was dying to know who was on the other end of that line.
“I’ve got to take this.” She smiled at me, stood up out of the seat, threw the strap of her purse over one shoulder, and hurried away. “I’ll be right back.”
As she pushed out the door, a group of frat bros jaunting by all turned to watch her sway past. I couldn’t blame them. Neither could they blame me if the blood rushed to my head and I felt a sudden urge to grind their acne-riddled faces into the pavement.
20
I managed to suppress my libido with a third piece of pizza while Anna paced on the sidewalk, talking on the phone.
“Hey, pal.” Vinny leaned on the table, a kitchen towel clutched in one hand. The sleeves of his chef’s coat were rolled up to his elbows and his knuckles were powdered with flour and soot from the brick ovens. “How you holdin’ up?”
“Honestly? Still trying to get my balance.” I glanced toward the window. “And it just got more complicated.”
“She’s cute.”
“Exactly.”
I leaned forward in the booth. Annabelle stepped just out of my line of sight beyond the window. The fabric of her polka dot dress rippled in the breeze.
“It’s none of my business who she’s talking to,” I said, as much to convince myself as to convince Vinny.
“No.” Vinny shrugged. “Not yet. Maybe one day, if you play your cards right. You haven’t had a steady girlfriend for a while.”
“I don’t see any women in your life.”
“Yeah. But now you know why, eh? Not many Pangozil round here.” He straightened and wrapped the towel tighter around his hand. “Hey, you hear any more from those friends of yours? The ones from out of town.”
I sighed. “They’re still around. But we’re helping each other.”
/> “If you say so. And that guy you’re after?”
“He remains at large.”
Vinny grimaced. “Be careful.”
“Why don’t you take a few days off?” I suggested. “You work your butt off running this restaurant. Haven’t you earned a vacation?”
“If I take off now, it’ll look suspicious.”
“To my out of town friends?”
“Them, and the other guy.” Vinny sighed and shook his head. “I liked it better when things were quiet around here.”
I grimaced. “Sorry, Vinny.”
My eyes were drawn back to the window. Anna had stepped out of view. It wouldn’t take a psychiatrist to figure out why I was tapping my toe and fidgeting in my seat. “Who do you think she’s talking to?”
I got up and stepped past Vinny so I could get a better angle to see out the window. When I didn’t spot her, I pushed open the door and poked my head out to take in a full view of the sidewalk. Half a dozen pedestrians spread out over the whole block. Anna was not among them.
She had disappeared.
“What in the hell?”
Walking quickly in the direction I thought Anna had gone, I peered up and down three consecutive cross streets without finding her. Every panicked, jealous thought crossed my mind. Who was she talking to? Was it a boyfriend I didn’t know about? I shook the thoughts, and several more worst-case scenarios sprang up in their place. Had Elekatch grabbed her? Had Dyna and Kilos betrayed me? Did the Gatekeeper have a reason to kidnap Anna and hold onto her for leverage against me in case I didn’t hold up my end of the bargain?
A sick feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. If I’d put Anna in danger, I’d never forgive myself.
When I finally caught sight of her blonde hair bobbing in the distance, rounding the corner onto Fourth Street, I exhaled a whole universe of relief.
This led me to realize two things for certain. One… Anna was right, I really should trust my intuition. Her sneaking away in the middle of a meal was suspicious as hell. Two… she wouldn’t have done it unless something unusual and pressing had come up.
I stepped under the awning of a jewelry store and watched from the shadows as she crossed the next intersection. She hurried along, staring down at her phone and rapidly typing something. The sun was high overhead, but in the canyon of buildings, the skyscrapers cast whole blocks in shadow.
Movement on one of the rooftops caught my eye. Before, I would’ve assumed it was a bird or a bat, and simply ignored it. Now, I relaxed like Dyna had showed me and allowed my focus to drift. A gargoyle separated from the corner of a building, spread its stone wings, and flapped them a few times.
I examined the faces of others on the street. To my shock, no one else seemed to take any more notice of the Daacro than they would have a grackle, one of the impudent crow-like birds that infested the city. I couldn’t help but wonder how many times I’d walked down this very street, completely oblivious to them myself. Did we all move through life wearing blinders?
The distraction nearly caused me to miss Annabelle’s next move. I spotted her again as she approached a cafe where the tables spilled onto the sidewalk. High-powered fans were set at each corner of the patio, blowing cooling mist over the diners brave enough to eat lunch out there. Anna stopped next to a bistro table beneath a green and white umbrella. She slid a hand under her polka-dotted dress as she took a chair next to another woman, who sat with her back to me.
This other woman wore a floppy hat, sunglasses, and green yoga pants. Frizzy red hair stuck up in all directions from under the hat, and she was scribbling on a piece of paper as Anna seated herself. Her movements were jerky as she wrote, like she was in a great hurry.
Anna fidgeted with the silverware in front of her while she waited for the woman to notice her. After my conversation with Anna about Marsha Marshall’s wild ideas, I couldn’t help but wonder if this woman Anna had snuck off to meet was Marsha herself. I’d always imagined Marsha to be mousy and cute with horn-rimmed glasses, like a reporter from the comic books I used to read—even the name Marsha Marshall seemed to fit that character. This woman was nothing like I had imagined. Perhaps her jerky movements were a result of her ingrained paranoia rather than caffeine. Perhaps she was something else entirely.
However, I reasoned, if this was Marsha, that would explain Anna’s defensiveness when we got onto the subject; it would explain the way her eyes widened, and her face flushed when she received the phone call. Marsha was like a celebrity to her. Of course, she would be excited.
The woman finally stopped scribbling and looked up. She and Anna exchanged a few words. I couldn’t tell what they were saying, couldn’t even try to read their lips because of the angle and distance and that gigantic hat. Anna showed the woman the screen of her phone. The other woman shook her head. Anna swiped and showed her something else. This image caused the woman to jerk away and shove her chair back. The motion tipped a water glass off the table, which fell and shattered against the pavement. The whole restaurant turned to stare. Anna went bright red, collected her hands in her lap, and waited while two waiters rushed over to sweep up the mess, and replace the glass with a fresh one. The redhead took a sip out of the new glass with trembling hands.
I shook my head slowly. Marsha Marshall must be more cracked than even I had assumed.
When they were done, Anna patted the woman on the shoulder, smiled tightly, and walked away without another word, taking the cross street north to circle back to Vinny’s pizza place.
As Anna disappeared from my view, I knew what I had to do. I had to trust my intuition; I had to warn Marsha Marshall to back off, so that she didn’t cause Anna to get hurt.
The awning above me shuddered as something came crashing down on it. A few people walking by flinched and walked faster. “I hate grackles,” one of them muttered.
I stepped out from under the awning and looked up into the stony gray face of a gargoyle—or what Dyna had called a Daacro. It was only slightly larger than a grackle, but its face was expressive, almost human. It looked like a tiny monkey with wings.
“Stop chasing tail and get to work,” it growled.
I groaned. Of course it could talk.
“Who’s chasing tail?” I reached up, grabbed his whip-thin tail. The Daacro squawked, whipping his tail out of my grasp and leaving a scrape on my palm like I’d fallen off a bike. His skin was as rough as asphalt.
“Ow,” I said.
“You deserved that. The Gatekeeper is losing his patience.”
“I’m working as fast as I can.”
A low chuckle came from the Daacro’s throat, like two stones knocking together. “I’m just the messenger. You’re the errand boy.”
“Piss off, bird brain,” I snarled.
A couple dressed like they were going out to dinner edged by me on the sidewalk, the girl clutching her boyfriend’s arm. I cleared my throat and pretended to be picking at a stain on my shirt until they passed. When I turned back to regard the Daacro, he was no longer perched on the awning.
I glanced back over at the cafe. Marsha Marshall was gone now, too. On the table, all that was left was a half-eaten plate of food and several crumpled-up napkins.
“Dammit. Lost her.”
As I searched for Marsha, I noticed a waiter had started to clear the table. I jogged over, shouting, “Wait! Wait! Hold on.”
The kid raised his hands. “Relax, man!”
I grabbed an envelope from the table. It had a rough sketch on the back, a kind of abstract shape that looked like an oval bisected by a stylized X. The ink was dark and glistening, the paper was torn in places from repeated retracing of the X. The spot where the two lines crossed was worn clean through to the second layer.
Unfortunately, other than being a clear testament to the stress of the person who made the mark, the doodle meant nothing to me.
A beat-up Ford pickup careened around the corner, tires drifting on the pavement. The driver pulled a tight U-turn acros
s traffic and came to a halt in front of me.
“Hey…” I patted the keys in my pocket. “Did you hot-wire my truck?”
“Get in,” Dyna said from the driver’s seat.
Kilos sat shotgun, his eyes scanning the walls of the buildings that rose above us.
“We found Elekatch,” Dyna said, her voice resonating in three harmonic tones. “He’s trying to break the beacon free of the interference cage. Get in.”
“I…” I turned to look in the direction Anna had gone. I’d have some explaining to do if I didn’t meet her back at Vinny’s restaurant… but then again, so did she.
“Hurry!” Dyna shouted.
I hesitated only a second longer, then hopped into the bed of the truck and gripped the frame of the open window as she accelerated.
21
I’d braced for a long ride, but as it turned out, we didn't have to go far.
Dyna parked in a commercial zone on Fifth Street just a few blocks from Vinny’s pizza place. We were behind the iconic blue skyscraper known as Frost Tower, right in the heart of downtown Austin. It soared above us, all steel and sharp angles and blue glass. Anna might have walked right past here on her way back, but when I searched the faces of the people on the wide sidewalks, I didn’t spot her.
I stood up in the back of the truck and looked around. It didn’t take long for my eyes to be drawn up to a faint fountain of orange sparks that shot from a corner of the blue skyscraper. Unlike with the Daacro, a few people strolling by on Congress Avenue had noticed and shaded their eyes to peer up at the spectacle. Eventually, however, they each shrugged and moved on, unconcerned, probably thinking it was construction workers.
“That’s him, isn’t it?” I asked.
Dyna got out of the car, and nodded once, confirming my suspicion.
“I thought you said he was nocturnal.”
“He seems to be getting impatient.”
“Told you we shouldn’t have waited so long,” Kilos said.
“What happens if he gets the cage off the beacon?” I asked.
