"It's Lieutenant Franco. Look, I'm sorry to wake you but I have to ask you something."
Marguerite had answered sleepily, but she sounded fully alert when she answered, "Yes?"
Frank sucked in a deep breath and told Marguerite everything. The deja vus, the thing in rags, the dog, the dreams—everything.
"What the hell does it all mean?"
"I'm not sure," Marguerite came back. Frank thought Marguerite was hedging until she said, "For want of a better explanation, I'd liken it to a psychic awakening."
"What the fuck does that mean?" Frank asked in another abnormal burst of impatience.
"Lieutenant. It's five-fifteen in the morning. I don't care to be sworn at."
"I'm sorry," Frank gritted out. "This is a little new to me."
"Of course it is."
Marguerite sounded strong and reassuring.
"Basically, whether you believe it or not, Mother Love has awakened an innate psychic ability within you. At an instinctual level, you are aware of the threat she represents to you. Your psyche is trying to defend you, regardless of your lack of belief in her abilities and your ignorance of your own."
Bullshit, Frank wanted to say and hang up, but she'd made the call and she'd tough it out.
"What am I defending myself against?"
"Her intentions. That's the black pall I feel around you. Thoughts are energy, Lieutenant. Intentions are energy. Subtle yes, but effective in quantity and over time. And especially damaging when the source is able to focus her will and concentration as effectively as this woman apparently can."
"But why me?" Frank interrupted. "There are two other cops working this case. Why isn't she attacking them?"
Or maybe she is, Frank thought and they're not spilling. Impossible. She knew her cops too well. If this shit was going down on them, Noah would be the first in line to bitch about it and Frank was sure Lewis wouldn't be far behind.
"You there?"
"Yes. Bear with me."
Frank held on, wondering what the hell Marguerite was doing.
"I don't think this is about your work. Maybe inadvertently it is, but this . . . malice I feel around you, is much older than any case you're working on. It feels extremely old. It has an archaic form. I can't explain it more clearly than that. And I'm not sure it matters. What does matter is that you need help."
Marguerite abruptly switched gears.
"Are you a Christian, Lieutenant?"
"No. I'm not anything."
"Do you believe in any spiritual beings?"
"No."
"Yet you're calling me at five o'clock in the morning. Why is that?"
"I thought you could explain this."
"A Catholic priest could give you an explanation as well. Why didn't you call one of them?"
Frank almost shuddered, seeing Father Merrin stumbling in the ruins.
"Look, I'm sorry I bothered you. I didn't—"
"I'm not bothered, Lieutenant. What I'm asking is, why are you seeking an explanation from me when you know the answer I'll give you?"
Ah, now Frank saw it. Marguerite was good. She'd backed Frank into a corner and blocked the only exit. She should have been a cop.
"All right. You win. Can you help me?"
"I've won nothing, Lieutenant. This isn't about me. This is between you and that woman. I wanted to tell you this earlier, but I knew you'd laugh. I think you're finally ready to hear it."
Christ, now what? Switching the phone to her aching right hand, Frank sank her head into the palm of her left. The silence was so long Frank said, "You there?"
"Yes ... I think it's so easy for me to see this because you are completely unaware and make no effort to hide it. I saw this when you walked into my house with Mr. Hernandez. It stunned me actually, but what could I have said? You wouldn't have believed me."
Another silence. This time Frank waited. She'd kill for a drink. Great, she thought, Johnnie and I should be going to AA meetings together.
"You have a tremendous power about you. I can see it as easily as I see this other woman's power. But where hers pulls in energy like a dark star, yours is bright. It pulses a wonderful light. And it seems very old, something you've carried for many, many lifetimes."
Frank rubbed at her eyes, not believing this conversation. Not believing she hadn't hung up yet.
"It's more like a shield, really. It envelops you and protects you for the work you do. You see, you've always been a warrior. For a very long time. Maybe always."
Marguerite's words jarred loose the image of the dream soldier, forever fighting.
"You're in a battle now," the mambo went on. "And it's not the first time. I can't see all your enemies, but I feel Mother Love so strongly upon you. And just as strongly, I can feel your courage and compassion. You will fight because you have to, not because you want to. You don't like to fight, but it's what you must do and you do it well. It appears to be your destiny."
Just like the soldier's, Frank thought. He didn't like it either, but it was what he had to do. He left the dead in the blowing sand and went on. Father Merrin, running after him, out of time. The dogs snarling in the desert. The red dog. "Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war."
"And Lieutenant?"
Marguerite brought Frank back.
"Make no mistake. This is a battle to the end."
Sure it was. Frank could see that with the soldier's eye. Her mind still tripped in puddles of confusion, but her bones knew. They understood what her brain couldn't. Darcy had said he accepted without understanding. Yeah, she could go that far. It all made sense in a way that couldn't be made sense of.
"A battle," Frank repeated.
"Yes."
And though she was sure of the answer, she had to ask.
"Who's winning?"
32
Lucian had the gift too. And it had been getting stronger. He hadn't told his mother that. Though he worshipped her with the awe of a child, like a child, he had come of age.
"You know, that decided it for me when Mama made me lay which you," he said to Lavinia. "Don't matter that we was already. She didn't know about that. That was what decided my mind for me. That she could go against her own children like that. It ain't right."
Lavinia snuggled into his ribs. Marcus was out collecting receipts and Mama Love was at the church. She had Lucian all to herself. Her silence helped Lucian justify his decision.
"She gonna bring us all down, she keep goin' on like this. I tried talkin' to her, but she just give me that bug-eye stare like she about to pop sense into my head. I love my mama, I do, but she won't listen to sense no more. Her head's got too big, n'mean? This seems harsh but it's the only way I can think of that you and me can be free and that this family can go on, n'mean?"
Lavinia's head rubbed assent against his chest. He felt himself getting hard again. Lavinia felt it too and her fingers encouraged his erection.
"Girl, what you doin'?" he asked.
"Takin' your mind off your troubles," she leered.
He slid down the sheets and took her into his big arms. He'd loved Lavinia from the first time he'd seen her. She knew after meeting Lucian she was dating the wrong brother, but by then it was too late. Marcus was already sweet on her. When she'd suggested breaking up Marcus had tattooed fist marks on her body. She and Lucian had tried to pretend the other didn't exist, but it had been impossible, living in the same house like they did. Finally they gave in.
Holding her hand against his heart, he said, "Not now, baby. We got to plan this out to the last detail. It all gots to go perfect or we fucked. And it's gotta go down soon."
Lucian rolled onto his back and Lavinia followed. Teasing him with her thigh, she asked, "Why's that? She ain't got nothing on us. Why it can't wait?"