Infernal Justice (Angels at the Edge Book 2)

by Michael Arches

  Second time? “Sorry, sir.” I handed him a card Honah had given me weeks ago in case I got asked about my snooping. It identified me as a private detective with offices in Denver and San Francisco. “We’re investigating the recent string of vigilante murders. Have you heard about them?”

  Inga just smiled at him. He grinned back like a fool. That was all the identification she needed.

  “I’m a quiet sort of bloke. Get my news from the Birmingham paper online. What vigilante?”

  He looked around, but the fog was as thick as ever. I gave him a brief rundown on the three attacks.

  “Someone fired a shot this morning,” he said. “My house is farther up the hill, about a quarter-mile from here, but I heard a loud boom. Bought the place because it’s quiet, most of the time anyway. Came down earlier to run them off.”

  He definitely caught my attention. The hope that we had finally found a witness sent a shiver of excitement through me. “What did you see?”

  He pointed back toward the road. “Someone had cut the lock off of my gate at the highway. A black SUV was parked behind you a few feet. A short man with dark brown hair and scraggly whiskers was caring a video camera on a tripod. He claimed he hadn’t heard any gunfire. A blaggar—that’s a liar for you Yanks.”

  From the description, it sounded like the property’s owner had met the cameraman Cleo had checked out earlier. This guy was lucky to be alive still. They’d probably brought the embezzler in the SUV. “You didn’t, by any chance, get a license plate number, did you? That vehicle might’ve been owned by the vigilante.”

  The property owner smiled. “Before I saw the man, I took a picture of his black Land Rover. They’re built in England, you know?”

  He pulled out his smart phone and showed me a picture. It was the back of the SUV with the California plate clearly visible. I jotted down the number in my smart phone, and he promised to email me the picture soon as he got back to his house. Out in the middle of nowhere, we had no cell signal.

  “Did you see anyone else?” I asked him. “I’m thinking there should’ve been two other men with him.”

  “The doors to the vehicle were open. No one sat inside, and I didn’t see anyone else nearby. There’s nowhere to hide.”

  The embezzler was gone by then, and Caligula had probably changed into a crow, Inga told me.

  She was right. I asked the man a dozen more questions, but he didn’t know anything else. I suggested he call the sheriff’s office and told him I thought I’d seen fresh blood on a rock just over the edge from the promontory, which was true.

  He hurried away to do that. All tingly again with excitement, I reported to Honah what Inga and I had learned.

  I was still explaining when a loud boom sounded farther up the hillside. Too late, I realized I should’ve warned the owner that someone might come back to take care of him.

  Chapter 12

  INGA AND I ran to the road, crossed it, and dashed up a long, paved driveway.

  Before we reached a burning house, we found the owner on the asphalt, unconscious. I sat next to him, cradled his head in my lap, and calmed myself to heal him.

  Because I felt so much guilt from letting him get hurt, my mind refused to focus for longer than usual. He kept breathing, though, and that gave me hope. Then I settled into God’s perfect grace.

  A moment later, he opened his eyes.

  “Sweet Jesus,” I said. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come with you.”

  “So, we could both be blown up? Don’t be daft.”

  Inga and I helped him to his feet.

  “My nearest neighbor is a mile away. Where’s your vehicle?”

  I couldn’t tell the truth, so I said, “Someone dropped us off. They won’t be back for a while.”

  We didn’t need to worry about transportation. The neighbor had heard the explosion and came to investigate. He drove up in his pickup, his face white. “Thank God, Jeremy, you’re okay. I’ve been sick to death, thinking you’d blown yourself up. The cops should be here soon. I called 911 before I left the house.”

  -o-o-o-

  ALL OF A sudden, Inga and I were getting a lot more attention than we wanted. It couldn’t be helped. This was going to be a huge public spectacle, with the connection between the explosion and the vigilante easy to make. The sheriff’s department knew the news media would soon descend like a flock of crows.

  Two hours later, Inga and I slipped into the darkness so Honah could teleport us back to headquarters. After catching up the boss on the local investigation, I turned to finding the owner of the black SUV. Honah had already given Jack the Land Rover’s license plate.

  The chief said, “Caligula Giovanni does not own that SUV. According to its registration, it was bought two years ago by Allanon Enterprises.”

  He said the name as though he didn’t recognize it. “Allanon was the name of a druid in Terry Brooks’ Shannara fantasy series. That could be a crazy coincidence, but I don’t think so.”

  Like all vehicle registrations, this one had a physical address where the DMV could send renewal reminders and get its money. The vehicle’s owner needed those license plates. For that reason, I hoped the address might lead us closer to our target.

  “Kiko has already checked,” Honah said. “No one is at the business address.”

  “I’d like to fly there anyway and search the place,” I said.

  He nodded. “Take her with you. You are not, under any circumstances, authorized to approach the building if you see it's occupied. If you find demons, we will bring overwhelming force.”

  I’d hoped Inga would be my escort, but that wasn’t to be. Kiko materialized out of nowhere, and the chief repeated his marching orders to her. Then she and I walked out to the rooftop patio, changed into birds, and flew to the address in southwest San Francisco.

  To my disappointment, it was an empty, short office building attached to a five-story garage. My partner and I flew inside the garage, and we found the SUV we were looking for.

  I found the rig, I told Honah. Do you, by any chance, know what a Slim Jim is?

  Instead of answering, he showed up and used some kind of magic to unlock the doors. The guy was incredibly useful to have around. He disappeared, and I carefully examined the vehicle.

  It’d been cleaned earlier, probably after the murder. I had to wonder why they’d made it so easy to find the vehicle. Maybe they’d thought it couldn’t incriminate them. It didn’t.

  When I finished with the SUV, Kiko confirmed the office building was empty, and the chief was kind enough to teleport me and Kiko inside.

  We searched for information about Allanon Enterprises, which was one of the many companies this business provided fleet vehicles for. Unfortunately, Allanon’s folder was missing from the file cabinet. Caligula and his buddies were trying to squeeze toothpaste back into a tube.

  That never worked well, but it could take us a considerable time to find out the truth. Corporate records were often incredibly complicated. On the plus side, in this day and age it was impossible to erase every trace of a company’s existence.

  Once Kiko and I were sure we’d found out everything we could about Caligula, namely nothing, I headed back to headquarters for detailed corporate research. Starting with Allanon Enterprises, I checked the state’s corporate records database to get everything I could about the company. It’d been started five years before with the filing of boilerplate articles of incorporation and bylaws. Caligula wasn’t one of the original incorporators, nor was he mentioned in any of the annual reports.

  The papers had been filed by a local lawyer, and the major shareholders were a series of other companies. Over the course of several hours, I found seventeen corporations and partnerships, all related to one another through overlapping shareholders, officers, and employees. Under the radar, Caligula had quite the little empire going.

  A dozen of the companies reported actual business addresses. I examined each o
ne through online searches and by using Google Maps’ street view function. Unfortunately, none of the buildings met the description of the tower. Then dawn came, and I had to return to Golden. I tried to show Cleo how to continue my research in my absence, but the Internet wasn’t her thing. Jack, however, was keeping his team at the FBI busy. I reported my progress to him and headed home for the day.

  -o-o-o-

  BACK AT THE ranch, Ellen looked like she’d hardly slept at all. When I asked her, she simply said, “Sleep? What is this thing you call sleep?”

  She was doing a great impression of the walking dead, so I helped her to sit at the dining room table while I made her breakfast.

  I had set a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her when she grimaced.

  “You want me to cook the bacon more?”

  She shook her head. “It’s starting, finally.”

  A bolt of panic hit me in the stomach. This baby was going to change our lives forever. I sure as hell hoped she’d be a blessing, like everybody claimed babies were. As far as I could tell, kids were a total crapshoot.

  “You’re sure it’s a contraction?” I asked.

  She rubbed her stomach down low. “Either that, or I’m having the worst gas ever.”

  Then she started eating as if nothing had happened.

  I waited for the next one. Everything we’d been told said that the critical element was the time between contractions. I wasn’t going to take any chances with an at-home delivery, but I didn’t want to spend twelve hours in a hospital waiting room either.

  Ten minutes later, the second one came. Her pinched expression told me this was the real deal. I called her ob-gyn, and we agreed to meet at a hospital in Boulder that Ellen had picked out. It was a twenty-minute drive, so I didn’t want to wait any longer to leave.

  As I carried her stuff to my pickup, I sent a message to Honah telling him I’d be out of action for a couple of days. He’d told me earlier that I could have three full days with my sister when she went into labor.

  Please give our best to Ellen, he told me.

  -o-o-o-

  SIX HOURS LATER, I was an uncle to a seven pounds, three ounces niece named Clara. The whole process had gone smoothly, particularly since I could touch her and relieve her pain anytime it got too rough.

  An hour after she was born, I got the chance to hold her. She was incredibly light. I was nervous about hurting her accidentally, but that soon passed. By touching her tiny cheek, I made sure she was completely healthy. A tiny spark passed between us, and a feeling of contentment settled over me. She would be the closest I could get to having children of my own. She blinked, seeming to notice our connection. Clara had her father’s deep blue eyes.

  When I mentioned that to a nurse, she laughed. “Most babies start with eyes that color. It changes over months.”

  I knew even less about babies than I knew about the immortal world. But I knew one thing—I’d do everything within my power to protect her from the evil in this world. The words of my mom’s favorite nursery rhyme, “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,” came to mind, and I sang it for Clara.

  After I was sure mom and daughter were fine, I headed back to the ranch to take care of the animals. That only took a couple of hours. My sister and I had planned our work at the ranch so it would be relatively quiet during her first few months as a mother.

  I was about to return to the hospital when Cleo and Inga popped into the living room. I hadn’t given Honah any updates on Ellen, but the ladies knew all the pertinent details. We all shared a hug and I explained how I’d eased Clara’s way into the world.

  Then I remembered all the trouble out in California. “How are things back at the office?”

  Inga shook her head. “We haven’t made any progress since you left, so there’s nothing to tell.”

  I felt a twinge of guilt at leaving them stranded, but Ellen and Clara were counting on me. For a couple of days, their needs had to come first.

  “Would you two be interested in seeing the new mom and baby?”

  Both of them beamed at me and said, “Of course.”

  My truck only had two seats, but they changed into their bird forms and sat together in the passenger seat. At the hospital, they shared my mind with me and oohed and aahed at Ellen and Clara who happened to be together. Then my two angelic friends vanished from my mind. I stayed at the hospital in Ellen’s room through the night, just in case some sudden crisis occurred. Clara seemed so fragile.

  -o-o-o-

  Tuesday, August 15th

  EXACTLY FORTY-EIGHT hours after Ellen began her labor, I returned to my angelic duties. Jackie, Ellen’s mother-in-law, came to stay with her, so I made some excuse to disappear until the following morning.

  Luckily, the two women got along well, particularly once Jackie had learned Ellen was carrying her dead son’s only child.

  Honah pulled me to the San Francisco headquarters, where he met me. We sat across from each other in a pair of matching wingback chairs.

  “I am more than a little disappointed,” he said, “that our search for Caligula has made no significant progress in your absence.”

  I hadn’t expected the angels to turn into detectives all of a sudden, but the human cops and Jack should’ve done something. “Yes, sir. I regret that, too. Haven’t the FBI or SFPD investigated the corporate records for Caligula’s businesses?”

  “They have, but that doesn’t seem to have helped.”

  I’d have to follow up on that. “What about the investment banker from New York? Didn’t he eventually meet the sorcerer?”

  The chief shook his head. “Unfortunately, the gentleman you are referring to left the city twenty-four hours after you last saw him. You should immediately return to your investigation.”

  “I’ll be happy,” I said, “to pick up where I left off, but the fastest way to learn more would probably be for me to visit the law firm the demon uses for his business work. Their files should be much more helpful and detailed than public records. And the cops can’t access them because of the attorney-client privilege.”

  Honah sent me to the lobby of a skyscraper nearby. McConaughey and Wegner’s offices took up the entire twenty-seventh floor. I called their switchboard and said, “I’ve heard great things about Mr. Wegner, and I happen to be in the neighborhood. Would he, by any chance, have time to speak with me about creating a new company?”

  The receptionist put me on hold for a moment then said, “Absolutely, Mr. Wegner would be delighted to make a few minutes available for you.”

  On the way up in the elevator, I made up a story about an online store for farm equipment.

  When the tall and bald lawyer greeted me, he shook my hand warmly. I wasn’t surprised that he loved my idea for a new online business, and he spent fifteen minutes explaining that it would cost a thousand dollars to set up a new limited liability corporation. I promised to think about it.

  His secretary escorted me out, and in the hallway, I asked her about places to eat nearby. She told me several names then said, “I’m about to go pick up a quick sandwich for him and me. I’ll be happy to show you the way to a good deli.”

  That was perfect, and I said, “Don’t trouble yourself. I’m allergic to gluten, so I avoid bread. I’ll try the Chinese place instead.”

  But when I got downstairs, I waited in the head of one of the guards in the lobby until she came back from her quick run out. As she flashed her ID at the guard and exchanged a quick word, I switched into her mind.

  She’d worked for Wegner for two years. Except for a couple of veiled come-ons that she’d ignored, he’d caused her no trouble.

  What I mainly wanted to know was where she kept his files. Her memory told me. Over a few minutes, I learned everything I needed to know so I could return after hours.

  Then I switched into the lawyer’s mind to figure out why he’d willingly work for a demon. The answer was simple—he didn’t know he was. Wegner h
ad only met Caligula a couple of times, and as far as the lawyer could tell, the monster was a respectable businessman. Unfortunately, Caligula had come to Wegner’s office each time, so the lawyer didn’t know where the demon lived or worked. He did have a phone number, though, and Caligula’s accountant’s address.

  Honah pulled me back to headquarters, and while I was waiting for nighttime to search the lawyer’s files, I continued finding new companies the demons had set up. Merlin Holdings, Inc. was most interesting because it operated out of what looked to be a twelve-story building in the southwest part of the city.

  After ten p.m., Honah returned me to Wegner’s office suite. It was dark and empty. I headed to the firm’s file room. The carefully labeled metal cabinets contained folders for each company Caligula had created. Most of the folders were small, but the Merlin Holdings’ file filled an entire drawer. It owned and managed, among many other properties, the building where the illegal casino was still running. For once, I felt like I was making good progress.

  Eventually, I came across a spreadsheet that listed all of the company’s properties along with addresses and contact information, which I photographed with my phone. Then I reported back to the chief about the possibility that we’d found the tower.

  Honah teleported me and seven other angels, including Jack, Kiko, and Inga, to the sidewalk in front of the moderately tall building. It appeared to contain a mixture of offices and residences. My nerves tingled with the thrill of the hunt.

  At night, the building had no guard, just a key card system to keep out riffraff like us. We all changed into pure spirits, and when a person approached the entrance, I popped into their head. It happened to be a woman who owned a nearby wine bar. She lived in Caligula’s building, not knowing her landlord was a demon.

  The woman took an elevator to the seventh floor, and when she exited, I remained behind. A moment later, I appeared in my normal form in the empty car and took it back down to the lobby. There, I let in the rest of the team.