Abracadaver (Esther Diamond Novel)

by Laura Resnick

  Max tried again. “Please consider—”

  “No, I’ve got to get out of here. Now.”

  He turned and left the room. Max and I followed.

  “Lucky, keep Nelli here with you,” I said, looking over my shoulder at him.

  He nodded and tightened his grip on the familiar’s collar as she attempted to pursue Quinn.

  Out in the corridor, coming from the direction of Antonelli’s, we heard a man calling, “Hello? Is somebody there?”

  Quinn flinched.

  I froze. I knew that voice.

  “Lopez?” Quinn said tensely, raising his voice.

  “Yeah, it’s me!”

  Quinn seemed more alarmed than relieved. Well, I supposed that was understandable. He probably didn’t want his new partner to know anything about the things we’d just been discussing, so this was bound to be awkward for him.

  Even though my heart did that little skip it often did when Lopez showed up, I found it awkward, too. I had, after all, participated in holding Quinn hostage this evening.

  I really hoped the detective had forgiven us for that, all things considered.

  “Andy?” Lopez called. “Where are you?”

  “Coming!” He looked at me. “Not a word, Esther. Agreed?”

  I looked to Max for a cue, unsure of whether I should guarantee my silence.

  Quinn leaned closer to me and whispered, “Do you know how many charges I could file against you and your friends right now?”

  “Okay, not a word,” I agreed in a low voice. Apparently he wasn’t the forgiving type.

  “I’ve been waiting outside in the car for twenty minutes,” Lopez said, his voice getting closer. “You’re not answering your phone.”

  “Sorry,” Quinn said. “I got, uh . . . waylaid.”

  We were nearly at the entrance to the reception hall that Lopez’s voice was coming from. I could hear his footsteps approaching us.

  And then behind us, back in the room from which we had just come, Nelli started barking madly.

  “No!” Lucky shouted. “No! Stop!” Then: “Watch out!”

  I turned around to see Nelli round the corner and come bounding toward us in great strides, her teeth bared, her jaws dripping.

  “Nelli, no!” I stood in her path.

  “Andy!” I heard Lopez shout behind me. Then: “Esther?”

  Nelli knocked me over, not even pausing in her mad beeline for Quinn’s throat.

  “Don’t shoot!” I heard Max shout as I hit the floor—hard.

  “Arrrgh!” Quinn screamed as Nelli’s full body weight hit him and knocked him against a wall.

  “Get out of the way, Max!” Lopez shouted. “Move!”

  “No, please!” Max cried.

  I rolled over and looked at them all from my position on the floor. Nelli was snarling ferociously, standing up on her hind legs, her dripping teeth only centimeters from Quinn’s throat. Lopez was standing about ten feet away, his gun drawn and aimed at Nelli—and Max was standing between them, his hands raised, blocking Lopez’s line of sight.

  The demon was certainly getting a full meal tonight.

  12

  “Nelli! Come back!” Along with Lucky’s shout, I heard the sound of running footsteps approaching.

  “Max, MOVE!” Lopez ordered as the old mage kept himself positioned between the gun and the dog.

  Nelli’s big paws were on Quinn’s shoulders, pressing him against the wall. Her bared fangs dripped saliva and she stared fiercely into his frightened, wide-eyed gaze. He was holding as still as he possibly could, but his chest was moving rapidly with his agitated breathing. When Nelli sniffed his carotid artery, he flinched a little and closed his eyes.

  The footsteps that were thundering toward me stopped abruptly as Lucky and John arrived and saw what was happening.

  “Nelli!” Lucky said sharply. “Sit!”

  To no one’s surprise, that didn’t work. The dog snarled ferociously at Quinn and snapped at his face.

  Lopez tried to circle around Max, who blocked his path, staying between him and Nelli. “Goddamn it, Max!”

  About six feet tall with a lightly athletic build, Lopez had a dark golden-olive complexion, strong features, thick black hair that shone darkly under the overhead lights, and rich blue eyes—which were cold with focused anger right now.

  “Don’t shoot!” Max’s voice was hoarse. “Please, detective.”

  I had seen Max use his power in the past to make a weapon fly out of someone’s hand, but he didn’t attempt it here. Probably because Lopez had too firm a grip on his gun for it to work. If he felt the weapon move, he wouldn’t let go, he’d reflexively tighten his grasp—and perhaps inadvertently squeeze the trigger and put a bullet in someone.

  “Put down that gun!” Lucky shouted at Lopez, sounding scandalized. “You could hurt someone!”

  I was too scared to appreciate the irony of Lucky urging gun safety.

  “Stay where you are!” Lopez shouted back.

  An attacking dog, a cop with a gun, a Gambello killer, and a demon working overtime to inflict stress and evoke anger. This would go very badly if someone didn’t do something right now to defuse the situation.

  I took a deep breath and, fueled by adrenaline, I leaped to my feet, popping up as if propelled by a spring.

  “Move away, Esther!” Lopez urged.

  I ignored him, lunged for Nelli, and put my hand on the familiar’s pink leather collar.

  John blurted, “Esther, don’t!”

  “Esther, no!” Lopez’s shout was very agitated. “Get back!”

  I prayed that his stress wouldn’t produce another involuntary incendiary incident. We had enough things to deal with right now.

  Natural instinct made me wary of touching Nelli, but I shook her collar to get her attention as I shouted her name. Her massive body was quivering with tension as she snarled and sniffed, growled and glared. But I maintained control of my breathing, which helped me keep control of my head.

  Max had said Nelli didn’t want to hurt Quinn; she was challenging the entity that was attached to him, demanding that it confront her and do battle. So she was trying to protect the detective, I reasoned. Trying to free him from demonic oppression. Her way of expressing this, as a (very large) canine familiar was terrifying, but she hadn’t lost her head, and she wasn’t out of control. She was just trying to do her job.

  This was my working theory, anyhow.

  “Nelli!” I took another breath and willed myself to speak more calmly. “This won’t work. You must stop.”

  She kept growling and snapping furiously at Quinn, menace in her eyes, her hair standing on end. The detective’s face was pasty white, his expression taut and tense as he avoided the dog’s fierce gaze, his chest rising and falling with his rapid breathing.

  “Esther, get away!” Lopez shouted.

  “Nelli, no,” I said firmly. “It will not come out and face you! Not while he gives it such a safe home.”

  “No, John, stay back,” I heard Lucky say.

  “But—”

  “Let her handle this.”

  “Nelli, are you listening?” I looked at Quinn. “He wants to keep it. It won’t confront you while he protects it!”

  To my relief, the familiar reacted. I didn’t know whether it was my tone, my words, or her own realization that she wasn’t getting the response she sought, but Nelli paused and reconsidered what she was doing.

  She remained where she was, her body weight pressing Quinn up against the wall, her paws still on his shoulders . . . But she ceased the terrifying growling and snapping and now just stared fiercely at the cop, as if trying to decide what to do next. She was breathing hard, her rib cage pumping in and out, her panting breaths ruffling Quinn’s red hair.

  “Esther, get away from that dog,
” Lopez insisted in a hard voice.

  Quinn risked taking a look at Nelli and appeared to recognize that she was calming down.

  “Nelli, enough,” I said. “It won’t do battle. Not like this.”

  I could feel the tension in her big body, every fiber of her being protesting against simply letting the entity leave this place, free and unvanquished.

  “We’re just making it stronger,” I warned her. The fear, tension, and anger among us now was so active, it felt like a small tornado was whirling around us. The walls practically vibrated with our negative emotions. “We must stop feeding it, Nelli. Right now.”

  “Max, if you don’t get out of the way . . .” Lopez warned coldly.

  Quinn met my gaze for a moment, and then he looked at the dog again. “Get d . . .” He cleared his throat and tried once more. His voice was faint, but functional. “Get down, Nelli. All you’re doing is . . . scaring me.”

  Nelli looked at him for a long moment, then let me pull her off him. My hand still on her collar, we backed away from Quinn, who sagged with relief.

  With Nelli’s teeth no longer so perilously close to a human throat, Lopez risked agitating her by knocking down Max. As the old mage hit the floor with a loud grunt, Lopez trained his gun on Nelli’s head. “Get away from that dog, Esther!”

  Quinn suddenly moved and staggered into Lopez’s path, putting a hand on his shoulder to halt him. “No!”

  I stepped in front of Nelli, just in case. Max started crawling toward us.

  “Don’t,” Quinn said to Lopez, still breathing hard. “Leave her be.”

  “Are you crazy?” Lopez tried to shake him off, but Quinn didn’t let him.

  “It’s all right now,” Quinn insisted. “Just a little mis . . . misunder . . .”

  “You’re in shock. Go outside and sit in the car.” Lopez tried to shove him aside and get to Nelli, but Quinn used both hands to grip his partner now.

  “Oh, that’s right, Mr. Sensitivity,” I said to Lopez, my own negative reaction welling up as fear subsided. “Tell someone who’s in shock to go sit alone in the cold and the dark.”

  “You go with him,” Lopez snapped at me. “While I deal with this dog.”

  “You stay away from her!” I said.

  “Yeah,” said Lucky, wisely staying at his end of the corridor. “Pulling a gun on our dog? Jesus, they’ll give a gold shield to anyone, won’t they?”

  John brushed past Lucky and came toward me. “Esther, are you okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?” Lopez asked me, shedding his anger enough to be concerned for a moment.

  “I’m fine.”

  “I’m fine, too,” Quinn piped up. “In case anyone was wondering.”

  “Andy, you should get out of this building,” Lopez said, eyeing Nelli.

  John seemed to be thinking of the cadavers inside the building when he said, “Detective Lopez is right. You should go outside. Right away.”

  “For chrissake, could I just take a minute?” the redheaded cop said irritably. “I’m trying to catch my breath!”

  Max rose to his feet and finished staggering to Nelli’s side. He grasped her collar as his gaze met mine. I released her and gave Max a nod. He kept on moving, pulling her with him, clearly intending to get her out of Lopez’s sight and the demon’s immediate presence.

  “Stop!” Lopez ordered.

  He tried to follow them, but Quinn grabbed him again and insisted, “Let her go.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” Lopez demanded, glaring at Quinn.

  “Come on, Nelli,” Lucky crooned, putting a hand on her head when she was close enough. “Let’s get away from the mean man with the gun. Good girl.”

  Nelli turned, gave Quinn a last look and snarled once more at the demonic presence that hovered around him, warning the entity that this wasn’t over.

  “I’m calling animal control,” Lopez said firmly. “That dog is too dangerous to—”

  “She was protecting the premises,” I said with sudden inspiration, while Lucky and Max led Nelli back to the working area of the mortuary, safely out of range of both Quinn and Lopez. “She mistook your partner for a trespasser.”

  “Why are you even wasting your breath on that story, Esther?” Lopez said in exasperation as he holstered his gun. His heavy winter coat was hanging open, probably because he’d been sitting in an idling car with the heater on.

  John was at my side, so I gave him a gentle jab with my elbow, alerting him that I needed support.

  “Huh? Why are you—Oh! Um. Okay.” He said awkwardly, “That’s right, Nelli is our . . . our watchdog!” John nodded, apparently thinking he sounded convincing.

  “Yeah, right.” Lopez reached into his pocket for his phone.

  “She is,” I insisted. “Nelli was guarding this place against an intruder.”

  “Yes,” said John, trying so hard to help. “We need her here. Where she roams free to protect our valuable, um . . . corpses. And stuff.”

  And him such an educated boy, too.

  Lopez said to John, “You’re not an actor, are you?”

  “No, I’m scientist.”

  Lopez searched for something on his phone’s screen as he said absently, “Yeah, you don’t have her flair for improvisation. Though this isn’t one of her better efforts.”

  I gave Quinn a look, silently urging him to do something more constructive than stand around catching his breath.

  Quinn just shrugged, his expression indicating that this wasn’t his problem anymore. Apparently stopping Lopez from shooting Nelli was as much damage control as he felt obliged to contribute.

  Well, we’d see about that.

  I said, looking right at him, “I guess we should explain everything that’s happened this evening and exactly why Nelli thinks Detective Quinn is a threat to our safety.”

  Lopez paused and looked up from his phone, his expression skeptical. “Is there going to be a single word of truth to this?”

  Standing a little behind him, Quinn was emphatically shaking his head at me.

  “Your partner wasn’t answering his phone,” I said to Lopez, “because it’s gone dead. Isn’t that an amazing coincidence?”

  Quinn ran his hand sideways across his throat in a frantic gesture signaling that I should cut! cut!

  Or maybe he was threatening to kill me if I kept talking. It was hard to tell.

  “Jesus, your phone’s gone dead?” Lopez said over his shoulder. “What the hell is going on around here?”

  “We can explain what’s going on, can’t we, Andy?” I said, raising my brows.

  Quinn glared at me.

  “I know you wouldn’t want our dog to be blamed for your problems,” I prodded, returning his glare.

  No way was Nelli getting impounded because Quinn was hauling a demon around with him.

  But Lopez was off and running. “Jesus, doesn’t anyone make anything that works anymore? What is this, the decline and fall of Western civilization? How the hell are we supposed to function if nothing around us functions? Between the two of us, that’s three goddamn phones that have broken down in just a few weeks!”

  I asked Quinn, “Should we introduce him to Grace Chu?”

  “Yikes,” said John.

  “No,” said Quinn.

  Lopez said, “I mean, who can work like this? I’m not a Bow Street Runner or a sheriff in the Old West, for God’s sake! I’m an NYPD cop in the digital age, and I need a working phone! Also a police radio! And a car that doesn’t keep breaking down! And a computer that works! Why is that too much to ask?”

  Yeah, his stress level was off the charts all right. That demon had figured out exactly how to play him.

  I said firmly to Quinn, “Convince him to leave Nelli alone.”

  “Is this all because of o
utsourcing?” Lopez wondered, lost in his own fresh hell. “Is this what happens when a country surrenders its manufacturing industry to the greed of global conglomerates?”

  “Please tell me,” John said, looking at Lopez, “that this isn’t about to turn into a diatribe about ‘Made in China.’”

  “You wouldn’t believe how much of this I’ve had to listen to lately,” Quinn said wearily.

  “All right, everyone stop,” I insisted. “We need to focus.”

  To my relief, they all shut up and looked at me.

  “Why is it always up to actors to get things done?” I said in exasperation. “I have to clean up this situation, and Nolan’s tailing your suspect, while you two stand around bitching and moaning. Well, I suppose it’s because we’re trained to focus, but I really would have thought that—”

  “Where did you say Nolan is?” Lopez interrupted.

  “Oh, actually, I guess he’s done tailing him now.” I remembered the phone call. “Nolan’s gone home for the night, safe and sound.”

  “Who was he tailing?” Quinn asked in confusion.

  “Nolan was tailing a suspect?” Lopez turned on Quinn. “You were supposed to babysit him! Don’t I have enough problems without a TV star getting killed on my shift?”

  “That guy with you was a TV star?” John said to Quinn in surprise. “I thought he was a cop.”

  “What suspect?” Quinn looked at me. “Who are we talking about?”

  “Danny Teng,” I said.

  “Nolan is tailing Danny Teng?” Lopez said in horror. “Well, there goes my badge.”

  “No, I told you, he’s done for the night. Nolan called me a little while ago,” I said. “By now, he’s probably at home, fondling his treadmill one last time before he goes to bed.”

  “Who’s Danny Teng and why is Nolan tailing him?” Quinn wondered.

  “He’s done tailing—”

  “Danny is dai lo of the Red Daggers,” said Lopez. “Well, until the Ning funeral is over, anyhow. He was Uncle Six’s boy, and no one likes him.”

  “Go figure,” said John.

  “So there’s bound to be some jostling for his spot now that the old man is gone. And when Chinatown gangbangers jostle . . .”