“Fine, so I’ve been a peach. What’s up?”
“What happened the other night when you went to Georgetown?” Billy’s gaze rested on me, monitoring my response. I probably disappointed him as I schooled my expression to stay calm. After the venting with Sydney earlier, it wasn’t hard.
“I haven’t been back since my attack. I thought…I don’t know.” I shook my head after a moment. “I thought it might behoove me to try and face that demon once and for all especially in light of current events.”
“In the dark of night? Without your backup? Without telling anyone?” Billy pressed.
I shrugged and let my gaze wander to the parking lot comings and goings. There were some near misses here and there because of the careless way people flung their cars into and out of parking spots, completely ignoring pedestrians as they shuffled across the blacktop on their way to or from the stores. “It was something I needed to do, Billy.” I pursed my lips and found that odd craving for a cigarette crawling up my spine again. I firmly pushed the thought away. I was a reformed smoker or, at least, a mostly reformed one. “I just didn’t think about it before I went there to take care of what I thought I needed to do.”
“Chance.” Billy embraced discretion as the better part of valor with his tone. “Forgive me for saying this, but that’s a bit stupid, even for a novice. Especially based on what you told me you can feel at crime scenes.”
I shrugged. “I said I didn’t think about it. I know it was stupid. I honestly didn’t expect the reaction that I had, though maybe I should have.”
We both fell quiet as a pair of patrons wandered out to chat for a moment before separating to head to their cars. When the last one climbed into his car and drove away, Billy spoke again. “What did happen?”
“I relived the experience.” Icy fingers of rationality, reason and responsibility raked my stomach at the thought. I imagined Gran was somewhere groaning when I foolishly leapt into the lion’s den to face my demon—to face it and fail, unfortunately.
“Relived it?” Billy probed.
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, resisting the urge to yank on it for some sanity. “I relived it. Every moment from when I walked down the steps into the lot until I came face to face with Oakes. It was like watching it happen but experiencing it at the same time. By the time I realized what I was doing, I was lost in it and he attacked me.”
“He, being Oakes?”
“Right.”
“You felt it, all of it, all over again?” Billy’s voice now carried a tone of what sounded suspiciously like pity, and maybe, just maybe, a bit of awe.
“Yes, every last drive of the knife.” I turned my head and looked at him. “I felt the fear. I felt the hurt. I felt the driving pain as he flung me down and lifted me up. I felt the knife ripping me open. I felt the blood pouring out of me, and I felt the same horrifying realization that I was going to die…” I let out a shaky breath and swallowed. “And then Jack was there. I think I went into shock.”
Billy nodded slowly. He seemed a bit pale for even his normally dark complexion. “I’m really glad he was.”
“So am I.”
“They said at the hospital you were traumatized. But reliving the whole thing…” Billy grunted absently, tapping his large fingers against the table. “Chance that’s just…”
“Crazy?” I snapped, trying to quell the feeling of bitterness that crept up. I was used to this. Most people who were unfamiliar with my way of life. Those who’d never experienced the things I’d seen and done had trouble dealing with the idea of it, much less the reality.
“I wasn’t going to say crazy,” Billy added defensively. “I was going to say that sounds like a form of hell, or purgatory. Damn unfair, too.”
Heat flooded my face and the sick feeling in my stomach became a hard lump. Shame tasted almost as bad as pride. I looked away from the sincerity in his expression and his voice. Sometimes I think I bring some of this on myself. I don’t expect people to believe me, and while it doesn’t surprise me when they don’t, it does bother me. My Gran explained it as a self-confidence issue. I was in my element as long as I didn’t have to defend my abilities.
“Well, that’s the way of things. I accepted that part of the burden a long time ago. It was foolish to push it at the college. I knew some kind of bad reaction might happen.” I shrugged.
“But what pushed you into it now?” Billy pressed. I felt his eyes studying me from behind the sunglasses. “Why now, after all these years?”
“That’s obvious. He’s back. At least that’s what your forensics told you, and that’s why you have all the watchdogs on me, right?”
“And that’s the only reason?”
“Do you think there’s another reason, Billy?” Again, my tone remained light, but the tingle along my skin gave me the awareness that Billy fished for more information.
“What about Victor Callanport?”
“What about him?”
“You went to see him a few days ago.” Billy’s tone remained neutral now.
So, they knew I went to see Victor. I mulled that over as I swirled the mocha cup before taking another sip. I watched a pair of teenagers spill out of an old Ford Escort. They were laughing airily about something and making teasing remarks as they pulled the door open to the coffeehouse and stepped inside.
The smell of coffee beans blew out into the air along with a rush of air conditioning escaping the confines of the building. The brush of cool air against the nape of my neck reminded me of the mugginess that hung on the area like a silken stole. I glanced at the sky. The sun shone brightly overhead with only a few clouds here and there. The air would be steamy by late day.
“Chance?” Billy’s voice prompted me out of my inner musings and I glanced over to find him gazing at me steadily. I wondered, not for the first time, what I would read in his eyes if he’d abandoned the sunglasses. I probably wouldn’t like to see a suspicious note there. I already felt enough guilt over the situation.
“I spoke with him briefly. Another bit of curiosity I suppose, because he was at that meeting.” I kept my answer brief, to the point.
“And that had nothing to do with your sudden desire to ditch your protection and go to Georgetown in the middle of the night?”
I looked back at the traffic going past and shrugged. “What’s going on Billy?”
“Callanport disappeared, Chance.”
Not the answer I expected. I jerked my gaze back from the traffic to look at my companion. His expression offered no humor to temper the straightforward comment. “Why are you talking to me about it?”
“Because he expressed an interest in you and now—he isn't at work, and no one has been able to find him at home. Some things are missing from his apartment like he packed, and that’s it.”
“What about the dragon lady?”
“Colleen Masters?”
I nodded once.
“She has no clue. Or at least she says she doesn’t. Their cases are, of course, classified and will be handled internally.” Billy leaned forward and laced his fingers together loosely. “Chance, there’s a lot going on. First, we’ve got more bodies turning up. Some of them are old, as in bones, but we have fresher bodies. The M.O.s are close, but not exact. We found Oakes’ prints and some hairs that match his DNA. DNA gathered from under the fingernails of several of his victims, including yours. Masters’ group gets interested and now her primary lead on the case is missing after he talks to you. That’s more than a little suspicious, don’t you think?”
I’m not sure what I thought. It seemed a lot to absorb. Yes, I suppose it sounded suspicious. But I didn’t think about that. I thought about the message Callanport left on my machine. I couldn’t remember what the timestamp stated before it played the message. It didn't seem that long ago. Is he really missing or simply working off the grid? I suspected the latter.
“Chance?” Billy’s neutral tone vanished, replaced by concern. “You okay?”
“Sorry, my mind wandered. I’m really tired.” I tried to divert
his attention. “It’s been a long day already, and I’m supposed to be resting.”
“Hell, Chance. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be pushing at you like this. But it’s like you’re always in the middle here, and I just know in my gut this all ties in together somehow.” A frisson of guilt sparked at Billy’s apology and it only deepened with his next words. “Look, I’m sorry to put the pressure on you. Why don’t you go home and rest? I’ll be in touch. Maybe Callanport’s just working on a case and Masters isn’t in a sharing mood.”
I took my escape route where I could and started to stand. Pausing for a moment, I glanced at Billy and nibbled my lip. “Are you investigating Victor Callanport?”
“I can’t really answer that.” Billy smiled apologetically as he rose. “But I will tell you this—be wary of that group, Chance. There’s something about them—I dunno. FBI is FBI, and these guys don’t act like they are on the same team as the rest of us.”
My mind raced to the file tucked into the duffel bag in the backseat of my car. It would tell Billy exactly how this all tied together. The desire to tell him burned on the tip of my tongue, but instead I found myself just nodding slowly. “I’ll be careful,” I promised. “I’m just going to go home and get some rest.”
“Good girl—and would you think about giving Jack a call?”
I sighed and looked down at my feet, but nodded. “I’ll think about it. I just need a little time to cool off. Get past his pigheadedness.” Coward, I accused silently, indicting myself for this failure of will.
“Good, good. He’s real torn up about the way you pitched him out.” There was just a hint of reproach in Billy’s tone, but I ignored it rather than let my hackles get turned up again.
“Thanks for the coffee,” I added by way of goodbye and lifted a hand to him as I walked back to my car. I felt his eyes on me throughout the short distance it took to reach the car. I unlocked the door and climbed inside.
He lifted his hand in a wave of farewell and remained standing where I had left him as I pulled out with my two guardians following close behind. I refused to think about the conversation until I neared the house. My mind was a jumbled morass of self-accusation and attempts at justification.
I should have given the file to Billy.
But I couldn’t.
The file gave me a lot of clues, and the picture it painted wasn’t pretty. But there wasn’t anything in there that would lead straight to an arrest. And to be honest, the file could be interpreted a lot of ways.
I tried to shut off the jumble of thoughts, but it wasn’t working. I pulled into the drive of the house and noted Betty’s car was still absent. Still half lost in thought I let myself into the house and wandered up to the apartment. Pushing open the door to my rooms, I paused.
Something wasn’t right, and before I put my finger on what it was, my gaze alighted on a figure sitting in one of my Queen Anne chairs. I didn’t jump. I didn’t scream. I did, however, get pretty pissed.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Twenty Two
“Good evening, Chance.” Victor smiled slightly from where he sat, stroking Romeo’s sleek coat. “I’m sorry to intrude, but we really do need to talk.”
I resisted the urge to fling something across the room, but barely. What the hell is up with all these men intruding in my life recently?
The door closed behind me and I whirled to face a rather dark-skinned, Latin looking youth, with definite traces of Native American in his blood. The shape of his eyes and nose, and the high cheekbones were a giveaway, as was the lone eagle medallion around his neck.
“Gently, Robert,” Victor chided. “Gently. There’s no need to give Miss Monroe a fright. We are not invited guests.”
“You can say that again,” I retorted with a measure of disgust and moved until my back was near the picture window, the same one I’d been gazing out only a few short weeks before and wondering what to do with myself.
“My apologies for our unannounced visit, but we needed to take certain precautions.” Victor remained where he was sitting in my chair, in my rooms, in my house—though his tone sounded deeply apologetic—with Romeo, the traitor, obviously enjoying the attention of those long fingers stroking his fur.
The hackles I kept so firmly down during my last conversation with Billy rose now. This was going too far. Enough of my life had been violated without having whoever the hell Robert and Callanport invading my inner sanctum. This is my home, damn it!
“Chance, I’m sorry.” Victor urged Romeo to get down and brushed some of the black cat hair off his pant legs. “If it wasn’t important, I would have waited for you to call me back.”
“They know you’re missing,” I blurted out and was rewarded to see his eyebrows quirk faintly into a frown. “I just talked to Billy Jamison. He was asking me if I knew where you were or why you might have disappeared.”
“Interesting…” Victor’s gaze slid to Robert, whose expression was nowhere near as controlled as Victor’s. He looked afraid. I bit the inside of my lip, needing that little bit of pain to remind me that I wasn’t going to express compassion or concern.
“Well, spiffy. So, it’s interesting. Now what the hell are you doing in my apartment?”
“You went back to Georgetown.” Victor’s attention snapped back to me and I saw the appraisal in his eyes.
“Yeah, and?”
“What happened?”
“I ended up in the hospital. But I’m sure you already know that.” I didn’t bother to hide my irritation. He had a lot of nerve showing up here like this, and frankly, if I’d had my gun I’d be inviting them to leave.
He sighed and I saw tiredness flicker over his expression. Wow, at least he was semi-human and prone to human emotion. I was starting to think he was some kind of automaton.
“Chance, I’m serious. What happened that you ended up in the hospital?”
“Trauma,” I answered caustically. “I managed to traumatize myself. Now if that’s all…” I let the sentence drift off expectantly, motioning for them to take a hike with a jerk of my thumb.
“That’s not what I’m asking.” Victor stood suddenly, a wealth of emotions appearing in rapid succession across his face. It was such a change from his impassiveness that I couldn’t stop staring. Okay, so he was definitely human. The vein throbbing in his forehead suggested a quiet undercurrent of violence. I must be really pushing his buttons.
Well, let’s just push a few more. I’m really sick of all this crap.
“Then why don’t you stop playing these covert games and spit it out. Or, better yet, let’s put a call in to Billy and invite him over. You can explain the file to him.”
“If you really wanted to do that, you’d have shown him that file already.” Victor’s smile was faint but mocking. “So let’s both cut to the chase.”
“Why don’t we?” I challenged.
“What did you remember when you went back to the campus? You remembered something. It triggered your shock. What did you remember?”
“He knew my name,” I stated categorically. “He knew exactly who and what I was. I could see it in his eyes. The night Oakes attacked me, he waited for me to come out at that exact moment in time.”
“Why that exact moment?”
“Probably because I’d officially started my internship with the Bureau the week before and checked in all my data, like what my school schedule was. He knew what classes I was taking. He knew when they started and when they got out. All he had to do was be in the right place at the right time to get me alone.”
Victor nodded once. “So, then you see the same pattern in the file?”
“Victor, you’d have to be stupid not to see it. I told you that the other night.” I folded my arms across my chest. “But that still leaves the question, why you are here?”
“And why didn’t you give the file to Jamison?” he countered.
> I scowled and chewed my lip. Obstinacy was becoming a real crutch for me lately. I don’t know why I didn’t just give it to Billy. It would probably have lessened the complications in my life right now.
“You couldn’t give it to him, could you?” Victor smiled sadly. “For the same reasons I can’t.”
“I don’t know why you can’t give it to him. I just don’t want to have to answer the questions it’s going to pose.”
“Well that’s the crux of it, Chance. That information breaks and there’s going to be a lot of questions. Psychics, witches, wizards—we’re all finally getting some respect and recognition in this country. We’re acknowledged, and we’re not all treated like crackpots who need Prozac. The government is taking us seriously enough to create an entire FBI division.” Victor’s voice drifted off suggestively, and I sighed.
Uncrossing my arms, I rubbed my face. I hated admitting he was right. It was just a point I didn’t want to acknowledge. No longer consigned to the fringe, we’d just started to get respect and acknowledgement. After years and years of being treated as outsiders, freaks or spooks, the world seemed prepared to open to the possibility that what we do is real. I’d heard rumors of a possible legislation regarding our rights that might go before Congress. Whether that was true or not seemed irrelevant. The fact of the matter was Randall Oakes could ruin everything.
“You do understand,” Victor’s voice went soft. “So you have to see why we need to take care of this ourselves.”
Robert shifted uneasily by the door, and I shot a look at him. He met my gaze with a brief amount of defiance before looking away. Well, clearly Victor’s partner didn’t appear to be onboard with this little plan. Or maybe he just didn’t like me.
Because not liking me would be such a shock. Focus, Chance. Focus.
“I’m not a vigilante. Hell, I’m not even a member of the FBI. I have no business hunting down or taking care of anything.” It was a weak protest, even I saw that. Exhaustion seeped into my bones, and I very much wanted these two to vanish and let me get back to my life.
Earth Witches Aren't Easy Page 17
