by T R Kohler
To that, Ember smirked. Even when she was an official detective, eighty percent of what people told her was total crap.
“But you’re not completely alone,” Kaia said. “Just like we kept you around because of what you can do, there are some other people strewn about.”
Expecting further explanation, when none came, Ember prompted, “People strewn about? Like, informants?”
“Eh, a few,” Kaia said. “Not as many as you’d think, though. Information is something we’re pretty good at getting whenever we want. Not like we need to keep someone around just for that.”
Not sure what exactly Kaia was referring to, but knowing without question she didn’t need to hear the particulars of it, Ember refrained from asking a follow up.
“Think of them more like moles,” Kaia said. “People in places that can funnel us things when we need it.”
“What kinds of places?” Ember asked.
“All over. Probably be easier to tell you where they aren’t than where they are.”
Falling silent, Ember considered the information. She tried to imagine where Hell might have an interest in stashing someone, wondering if she might have crossed paths with some of them over the years.
Would certainly explain a lot about some of her former coworkers.
Choosing not to press it any further for the time being, Ember asked, “You mentioned the living earlier. I can talk to the living. Does that mean we can also talk to the dead?”
Outside, signs for the San Diego State University and Qualcomm Stadium appeared along the side of the road. Tops lined with barbed wire, they almost sparkled under the bright sun, filing past as the world continued the slow transition from suburban to urban.
A foot to her left, Kaia again flicked a quick glance her direction. “Like I said before - maybe this whole thing won’t be a total waste of my time after all.”
Chapter Seven
Even driving at a speed that averaged more than eighty miles an hour, it took over a half hour for them to finally make their way off the freeway. By the time they did, the temperature had dropped almost ten degrees, the landscape shifting from harsh desert into something closer resembling what Ember had always imagined California to be.
Palm trees. Yards with thick green grass. Homes and businesses and automobiles that looked shiny and new, weather be damned.
Along the way was signage for scads of roads and suburbs that Ember had never heard of. Only once before had she even been to the state, a quick perfunctory tour through Los Angeles that had left her less than impressed and in no hurry to ever come back.
Not that this trip had exactly been planned.
Moving off the freeway, Kaia worked the Mustang through a series of progressively smaller streets, starting with a major thoroughfare and culminating on a small residential strip. To either side were palatial homes behind sealed gates, crews of Mexican workers tending to the grounds.
Not one person so much as paused as they drove past, still going faster than necessary, twin plumes of hair blowing in the wind.
“Where are we?” Ember asked, her gaze shifting to look at the homes sitting back from the road.
In a previous life, her ex-husband had done quite well. A software developer, he had made a steady income in the low six-figure range for the duration of their marriage. Coupled with her wages, it allowed them to have a nice home on the outskirts of Seattle, a place overlooking the waters of Lake Washington with a yard and a two-car garage.
It was nice, and Ember was content there, but the place paled compared to the homes lining the street they were now on.
That honor went to his new wife, the bastard waiting until the divorce was final before selling his latest design to Microsoft for north of ten million dollars.
“And just when I thought you were making progress...” Kaia said, a hint of disdain in her voice. Saying nothing more, she pushed them to the end of the street before slowing. Jerking the wheel to the side, she pulled up broadside in front of a brass gate, the top curved into a single arched line, a heavy seam visible in the middle where either side came together.
Standing a few feet away from it was a mailbox, a number stenciled down the side.
“4548,” Ember whispered, saying the numbers out loud. Repeating it a second time, the location clicked in her mind, her head shifting to the paper still wedged alongside her seat. “4548 Santiago Drive. Home address of John Lee Tam.”
Forming her right finger and thumb into a makeshift gun, Kaia pointed it at Ember, her mouth curved into a faux grin. “And just like that, she’s back in the game.”
Animosity crested in Ember’s chest as she glared at the finger gun, wanting nothing more than to reach out and snatch it, snapping it back at the first knuckle. For just an instant, she thought of how amusing the sight would be, seeing the girl bent at the waist, clutching the bright-red tip, before shoving the thought from mind.
No need to put any ideas into her own head. Avoiding temptation was never exactly a strong suit to begin with.
Reaching out, she shoved open the passenger door, the hinges on it making an angry wail. Skin folded around her eyes as she winced, opening it just far enough to slide out before slamming it back into place.
“You coming?”
“Nope,” Kaia said. Tugging on the handle along the side of her seat, she reclined back and lifted her face toward the sun. “I’ve got you this far. From here on out, it’s your show to run.”
More of the previous questions flooded into Ember’s mind, beginning with what exactly she was supposed to do standing in front of a locked gate and ending with how she was expected to get anything done with no resources and no weapons.
It was like going back in time more than a decade, being a rookie on the force without a damn clue what was going on.
A miserable time, and one she was not overly keen on repeating.
“You remember me telling you eternity is a long-ass time?” Kaia asked, her eyes still hidden behind the sunglasses. “You can stand out here as long as you like. I’ve got nowhere else to be.”
Sliding her top teeth out over her bottom lip, Ember bit down to keep herself from reacting. She balled her hands into fists tight enough to feel her fingernails biting into her palms before slowly backing away.
“And remember,” Kaia called in her wake, “your name is the only part of the old Ember Squires that still exists.”
Chapter Eight
Turning on a heel and stalking away from the car, Ember knew Kaia was still seated behind the wheel, though there was no doubt in her mind that she was being observed at all times. Just hours into her first case – the trial run, as Kaia had so aptly put it – there would likely not be a moment when she wasn’t being directly watched.
She wouldn’t know where or how, which was the point.
Meaning she had to take great pains to do things the right way. And under no circumstances could she let herself forget rule one.
Striding away from the Mustang, Ember approached the front gates, her eyes scrunched tight against the bright glinting metal. On either side was a brick column that the gate was secured to. A matching fence stretched the length of the property. More than seven feet in height, there were no breaks in the lightly colored brick façade. Behind it, a few inches of even dark-green hedge could be seen.
Standing on the left side of the drive was a mailbox made of matching brick. Hugged tight against it was a second brick stand, this one with a metal faceplate on it, a keypad and speaker visible.
“Shit,” Ember muttered, her gaze taking in everything, working through all she saw in short order.
If she still had a badge, this would be easy. She would stride over to the intercom, press the call button, and wait for someone to answer. Once they did, she would wave her shield, say she needed to speak to the owner, and the gates would magically part.
Now, she had none of those things.
But just because she didn’t have the backing of the law didn’
t mean she had to abide by it any longer either.
Looping out to the left, Ember circled behind the intercom. Wanting to avoid any video camera that might be mounted within the keypad, she angled around to the brick column standing beside the drive. Going straight to the base of it, she picked out the bottom hinge for the enormous metal fixture.
Without breaking stride, she jabbed her left foot forward, jamming the toe of her shoe into the narrow gap just above the hinge. Using it as a foothold, she hoisted herself into the air, using both hands to grasp the vertical bars of the gate and lift herself upward.
The instant her palms touched the hot metal she could almost hear the skin sizzle, fiery heat tearing into her. An audible gasp slid from her lips as nerve endings tingled the lengths of both arms. Releasing her grip, she balanced on one foot atop the hinge for no more than a second before gravity won out and she dropped back to the ground.
In the wake of her failed attempt, she could hear Kaia chuckling from the car, the sound grating her every nerve.
“Do not say a word, do not say a word,” Ember muttered, a warning to both Kaia and herself as she grabbed the sleeves of the long-sleeve T-shirt she wore and tugged them down over her palms. Hooking her thumbs along the seams, she rocked back once before propelling herself upward again, weight balanced on a single foot.
Heat again pushed through her hands on contact, the cotton material just enough to make it bearable as she reached high overhead. Starting with her right, she held tight and pulled her body upward, her shoulders and back muscles squeezing taut. Once her hand was even with her chest, she released and moved higher, hooking her fingers over the top edge. Hoisting her body up, her foot lost contact with the hinge, her entire weight on her hands as she struggled upward.
“Damn pull-ups,” Ember hissed as she pulled herself up a few more inches before looping her right leg out to the side. Swinging her foot toward the top of the brass fixture, the toe of her shoe just caught hold, muscles the length of her leg tightening as she hung balanced, perpendicular to the ground.
Grinding her shoe into the gate, she nudged it upward, holding her breath and clenching her hands. Little by little she worked her foot forward, finally moving past her ankle and then her calf, until she had the bottom half of her leg over the gate.
From there, it was as simple as pulling the rest of her weight up onto the narrow strip of metal lining the top of the gate, the brass burning through the seat of her pants, threatening to scald her ass.
More laughter drifted through the air behind her as she hooked her opposite leg over and dropped herself to the ground, landing hard on the cobbled brick of the drive.
Sweat lined her forehead and stained the back and armpits of her shirt as she remained in place a moment, staring back through the gaps in the gate, wanting so badly to call out to Kaia, challenging her to do what she just had.
As fast as the impulse arose, it departed, replaced by a sound somehow even more menacing than a demon laughing.
Chapter Nine
The previous Ember Squires had grown up with dogs. Born and raised on a small farm that pedaled in dairy cows and apple orchards, she was used to having them around. Waking up with them in the morning and going for jogs with them in the evening.
As an adult, she had a corgi right up until the time of her divorce, her ex-husband taking the pet as part of the final settlement.
In total, she had spent more than thirty years around the animals. She knew most of their sounds in an instant, ingrained responses put together through a lifetime of muscle memory.
Which was how she knew two things as soon as the sound of the dog baying found its way to her ears.
It was large, and it was pissed.
Spinning on the ball of her foot, Ember lowered herself into a crouch. She jerked her head to either side, seeing the expansive front yard spread wide in either direction. Mowed as short as the fairway on a golf course and twice as green, it seemed to stretch out for miles.
Interspersed over the grounds were flower beds, their colors bright and vibrant. There was a trail of koi ponds and fountains, the water clear. In a few spots were large boulders, the enormous rocks part of the landscaping.
But nowhere was there a tree, or a physical structure, or anything that could be used as shelter.
“Shit,” Ember muttered, drawing the word out as the barking grew ever louder. Chancing a look up the driveway cleaved through the middle of the property, she spotted the source of the sound no more than fifty yards out and closing fast.
Large and snow white in color, it bounded with complete abandon, hurtling itself straight toward her. Much larger, and louder, than any dog she’d ever witnessed before, Ember felt her mouth drop open. In equal measure, her stomach contorted into a tight knot, dread passing through her.
Two hours in Hell, and already she was about to die again.
Once more, Ember checked in either direction, looking for some new form of refuge to appear, before wheeling back toward the gate. Not taking the time to cover her hands, she wedged her foot back onto the bottom hinge and grasped the white-hot bars, pulling her body into the air as the barking grew ever closer.
She made it no more than a foot or so off the ground before the dog finally closed the gap between them. Wasting no time, not bothering with the effort to give her further warning, it launched itself forward. Slamming into the gate at full speed, its enormous heft set the metal fixture to rattling as razor-sharp fangs tore into the flesh of Ember’s lower leg.
Whatever pain the heat of the gate might have caused was minor in comparison to the stabbing agony that shot through her limb. As if a glowing poker had been rammed into her calf muscle, she felt as the skin broke, hot blood sluicing along her ankle.
A guttural moan slid past her lips as Ember looked to the sky, clinging to the gate, waiting for the next vicious clamp from the animal. Clenching tight, she held firm, ready for the onslaught.
So prepared for the continued attack, she barely noticed as it stopped after the initial bite. She hardly even considered that the pain wasn’t expanding, all sound falling silent behind her.
Not until she heard a voice ask, “Ma’am, are you alright?” did she even know it was over.
Holding tight to the brass, it took a moment for the voice to resonate with Ember. Another for the question to penetrate, her brain slowly shifting from processing pain to verbal communication.
Releasing the iron grip she held on the gate, she pushed her upper body a few inches away, turning to see a diminutive man standing before her. No taller than a couple inches above five feet, he wore a brown suit and matching tie, both the same color as the ring of hair around his head. In his hands was a bowler hat of the same hue, the top of his scalp shiny with sweat.
A man who was decidedly not John Lee Tam.
By his side sat the dog, the animal almost as tall as he was. Sitting quietly with its haunches lowered to the ground, it stared impassively at Ember, not showing the slightest hint of aggression.
“I am so, so sorry,” he said. “Toby here never bites anybody. I think he just got excited and thought maybe you would want to play.”
Allowing herself a few extra inches away from the gate, Ember said nothing. She twisted her body to glance down at her leg, the bottom of her pants leg soaked through with blood.
If that was what the dog called playing, she hated to think what wrestling might entail.
“It’s, uh, alright,” Ember managed. “It’s my fault.”
“No,” the man replied. “The fault is all ours, and I apologize profusely. Why don’t you come up to the house and let me clean that for you?”
Ember’s initial reaction was to decline. To climb back over the gate, get into the Mustang, and order Kaia to drive away. Once they were far removed from this idyllic little enclave, she would nurse her mangled leg and her wounded pride, figuring out another way to track down her mark.
At the same time, her goal in going over the fence was to
take a look at the house and see what shook loose. The odds of finding Tam there were now nonexistent, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a lot she could still glean from the situation.
Now she was being invited inside, the ruse of an injured leg as good an excuse as any to gain access.
Lowering her leg back down to the ground, she felt a spasm of pain pass through her. Starting at her ankle, it shot all the way to her hip and back down, sucking the air from her lungs.
Putting on a bit of theatrics, she staggered a step, acting as if it took all she had to press any amount of weight on the injured calf.
“Yeah, that would be great, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Not at all, not at all,” the man said, his cadence picking up speed with each word. “In fact, I insist.”
Turning toward the house, he asked, “Are you able to walk, or should I send down a car?”
Taking a step forward, Ember made a face before gingerly adding another. “Thank you, but I think I can make it, Mr...?”
“Oh, no Mister,” the man said. “Please, just call me Rocco.”
“Okay,” Ember said, falling in on the other side of the dog, the odd trio beginning to make their way up the drive. “And you can call me Ember.”
Chapter Ten
If the gate rivaled anything Ember had ever before witnessed, the house beyond it far surpassed even the most lavish of homes she’d seen, let alone been inside of. Every last feature seemed to be cut from marble or personally designed, less a residence than a museum to personal decadence.
Any questions Ember had while sitting in the car staring at Tam’s photograph, trying to imagine what he might have done to get in the devil’s crosshairs, were effectively over the moment she stepped inside.
Regardless how great the antiquities business might be, there was no way somebody was acquiring that kind of wealth on their own.
Sitting in a room that looked to be equal parts living room, den, and showplace, Ember sat with her leg extended before her. Resting in an armchair of the softest leather she’d ever touched, her calf was propped on an ottoman of the same material.
