“Why are you bringing them up?”
“Because there’s a sense of hurt about you this morning. Old hurt.”
I pushed my coffee cup away and sat back, crossed my arms. “My mother stopped by.”
Nana didn’t move—even blink—for a long moment.
“Apparently, I made the news in Pittsburgh.”
“That’s where she is?”
I nodded. It was my turn to stare angrily out the window. I saw Mountain in the distance, shutting the door to his mobile home and heading over to the phoenix coop. A moment later, the door opened again and Zhan stepped out, hurrying this way.
The possibilities of what that meant derailed my train of thought.
But Nana promptly set the locomotive back on the tracks. “What did she think of you being on the news?”
“Dunno,” I said flatly. “I shut the door in her face.”
Nana considered it, then shook her head. “That’s mean.”
“Mean? After what she—”
“Not that. I know you don’t want to have anything to do with her.” She paused. “I don’t know that I’d have opened the door in the first place.”
“Then what’s mean about it?”
“You telling me about it this morning. Now I want a cigarette more than ever.”
After breakfast when Beverley went upstairs to brush her teeth, I told Johnny about my mother’s visit, and announced to him, Nana, and Zhan that Theo had discovered Eris owned the building the tattoo parlor was in. Zhan finally understood who the upsetting mystery guest had been. Johnny and Nana now saw that this little road trip was going to be harder for me than originally thought.
While Johnny took Beverley to the bus stop in Nana’s car, Zhan, who was going to Pittsburgh with us, packed an overnight bag. I’d packed a second bag with magical supplies and Zhan helped load the Audi’s trunk. Once the bags were in place, I laid my broom atop them and shut the trunk.
I hadn’t had the nerve to ask Zhan about seeing her come out of Mountain’s mobile home earlier. I hadn’t even let on that I was aware that she’d snuck into the house. She could just claim she’d stopped in while making her rounds—and it might have been true, for all I knew. The sleeping bag on the couch was rumpled. All my suspicions were based on seeing how the Beholder had reacted to this particular Offerling.
We waited in the house. Johnny was late.
When he arrived, his face was flushed and his jaw set. “I think I fucked up.”
“Why?”
“One of the moms came over to the car and set into a cop-worthy interrogation of me. She wanted to know who I was, how I was related to Demeter, and whether I was going to be at the party tomorrow.”
“What did you tell her?” I asked.
“I gave her the short answers, and added that there were circumstances to the whole thing the news hadn’t covered and if she had any common sense she’d understand they only report stuff that will entice people like her to tune in—truth notwithstanding.” He shook his head. “She didn’t like that. She said, ‘I don’t want my daughter around your kind,’ and headed back to her car. So I got out and followed her.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did. I told her the party wasn’t for me or you or even her, but for Beverley—a sweet kid we all care deeply about, a kid who deserves to have a fun birthday party. I said, ‘Beverley hasn’t done anything wrong, lady. She’s respectful, does her chores, and gets outstanding grades. If you prefer your daughter not be friends with a kid like that, then you’re clearly one of those people with a cranial-rectal inversion and we don’t want your kind at our party.”
Stunned, somewhat horrified, and yet wanting to laugh, I covered my mouth until I figured out which reaction to give full rein.
“Did I just totally screw up her party?”
Before anyone could answer, the sound of firm knocking on my front door interrupted.
On my way to the door, I recognized the plain, government-tagged Impala in my driveway. Special Agent Brent and his pal Napier stood on my porch again. This time they were smiling.
“Now what?” I asked through the screen door.
“I wasn’t certain we’d find you here,” Damian Brent said.
“Did you think I’d skip town?” I detected Zhan moving into the living room. Johnny stood behind me.
Damian Brent shrugged. “Your friends keep ending up in the city morgue.”
My jaw clamped shut. Maxine.
“Five patrons of the Lodi Grocery witnessed the murder of Maxine Simmons in the parking lot. According to their statements, someone matching your description was hit in the head with a baseball bat and stuffed into the back of a white van, which then sped away. Seems you were kidnapped, Ms. Alcmedi, but here you are safe and sound at home.” He gave the impression he was quite concerned.
With witnesses and Maxine being dead, it wasn’t as if I could deny it.
“How is your head?” he asked.
“My head is fine. Now.”
“It was you the murderers stuffed into the van?”
“Yes. I escaped.” It would only cause trouble for Johnny and the pack if I admitted I knew who kidnapped me; it would mean I knew who had murdered Maxine and that was a can of worms I didn’t want to open. “Maxine’s death is tragic.”
“Ah, yes, but the death of the one person who could provide you an alibi for the time when Xerxadrea Veilleux was murdered must have you quite worried.”
“I actually hadn’t considered that.” It was worrisome now because he mentioned it.
“When I was informed the deceased was Maxine Simmons, I remembered her name from my notes. We’re here as a courtesy. Since you’re here and safe, however, I have to ask, did you get a good look at the men who took you and murdered your friend?”
“No. As we walked around the van, they shot her and I thought she’d tripped. I bent to help her up. Just as I saw the bullet wound, I was hit. I blacked out.”
“But you escaped. Did you see anyone then?”
“No.”
“Where were you being held?”
Johnny put his arm around me protectively. “Back off, man. This has been traumatic.”
“Since Ms. Simmons was an Offerling to the Regional Vampire Lord, this murder investigation has fallen to me. I’d like Ms. Alcmedi to come down to the station and give a formal statement. If you’d like to initiate the paperwork for kidnapping charges, we can tend to that as well.”
“I can do that on Monday,” I said bleakly. “This weekend is pretty tight.”
“She’s been through so much we are going to visit some family,” Johnny added. “She can give you a statement Monday.” I was impressed he’d twisted the current events so fluidly.
“It doesn’t work that way, Mr. Newman,” Clive Napier said. “And we have some questions for you as well.”
“Me? About what?”
“Let’s talk at the station, okay?”
Johnny and I exchanged glances. In the living room, Zhan waved to get our attention. She nodded; she was already on her cell phone. Nana shuffled down the hall bringing my jacket. “I’ll make some calls,” she whispered.
They were calling in the cavalry.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The agents put us in the back of their gray Chevy Impala. The black upholstered seats were clean and the new car smell was pronounced. Into the formal silence that descended as Napier typed an address into the GPS device, Johnny asked, “You guys don’t get anything better than an Impala?”
“No,” Special Agent Brent answered flatly.
Johnny seemed to have touched a sore spot.
The men up front didn’t engage us or each other in conversation so it became a tedious ride. Thank goodness it wasn’t long. Shortly after he turned onto US 303, I knew where we were going. Evidently SSTIX, although a federal agency, didn’t rate space in the Homeland Security offices in Cleveland or with the FBI in either Cleveland or Akron.