“What do you mean?”
She smiled, letting it touch her eyes, and Sean thought for a second that he had seen the first glimpse past the veneer of Kat Hall, and into the soul of Daryn McDermott. “My family didn’t touch. Not at all.”
“It’s just who we were,” Daryn said. “My mother…well, I don’t remember much of her anyway. She was gone when I was little.” A little tone of bitterness crept into her voice. “And my father…I remember going to hug him, and he would just go all stiff. He wouldn’t actually push me away, but he wouldn’t return the hug, and after a while I quit trying.”
Sean was silent. Let her talk, he thought.
“None of my stepmothers paid much attention to me either,” Daryn said. “They were there for my father, the ‘great man,’ and I was just part of the scenery.”
Sean sat up. “Your father, the ‘great man’?”
Daryn backed off. “Forget it. It’s just me being bitter, and I recognize it for what it is. You don’t really want to hear a bunch of crazy stuff about me, after all.”
Yes, I do, Sean thought, but said nothing.
Daryn smiled wickedly, and it seemed Kat Hall was back, the invisible mask having been put on again. “Speaking of touching…” She leaned toward him.
They coupled again-briefly, intensely-then drifted off to sleep, naked beside each other, sometime after three a.m. Just before sleep claimed him, Sean wondered, So who were the gun thugs? Really, who were they?
Sean woke to the sound of his phone ringing. He looked at the clock: just past seven a.m.
“Faith,” he muttered, digging the phone out of his pants pocket.
“Where the hell are you?” his sister said.
Sean sat up. Daryn stirred but stayed asleep. “I ran into a little trouble last night,” he said.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“Sorry, Dad, just stupid, I guess.”
“Don’t bullshit me. Are you all right?”
“Fine, fine. At least there aren’t any bullet holes in your car.”
“What?”
“Nothing, I’m kidding.” He glanced at Daryn. The sheet had fallen away from her breasts. The word justice stared up at him. He thought about all the things she’d told him. She’d presented her views with as much passion as she presented her body. But when talking about herself, even as she thought she was carefully preserving the fiction that was Kat Hall, it was like she was another person, one who’d been wounded deeply. One who wasn’t nearly as sure of herself as she was of her politics.
“Faith, I need your help,” Sean said.
Faith recognized the tone. “I’m listening.”
“Not on the phone. Let me meet you.”
“I’m leaving for the office now, driving that god-awful monster truck of yours.”
“Sorry,” Sean said. He began to fumble for his clothes. “I’m in a town called El Reno.”
“El Reno! How did you get way out there?”
“Never mind. I’ll be in front of the building where your office is in one hour.”
There was a long silence. Sean listened to his sister’s breathing. She would be turning over in her mind the reason he hadn’t just said “the courthouse.” “You’re not alone?” she finally said.
“No, I’m not. I will be when I meet you, but I’ll need to…” I’ll need to what? He squeezed his eyes open and closed. God, I need a drink right about now. “I’ll need to come back.”
“Sean-”
“Trust me, sister. I need you to just trust me.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll see you in an hour.”
Sean clicked off. He looked back at Daryn. Her eyes were wide open and staring at him. “Who was that?” she said, her voice husky with sleep.
“Maybe someone who can help keep us safe,” Sean said. “I have to go out for a while.”
“But you’ll be back?”
“Oh, yes, I’ll be back,” Sean said, and started to get dressed.
12
IT WAS A GORGEOUS SPRING MORNING. THE LATEST round of storms had moved out of Oklahoma City and left moderately cool morning temperatures under blazing clear blue skies. Faith waited for Sean on the sidewalk in front of the federal courthouse. When she saw her Miata turn onto Fourth, she waved Sean to a parking place around the corner and started up the sidewalk.
He parked at a meter on the Harvey Avenue side of the courthouse and they met each other at the corner. “You’re late,” Faith said. “You said an hour. It’s been nearly two.”
“Good morning to you, too,” Sean said.
She looked at him. His clothes were rumpled, his hair sticking up in back. He was unshaven, and she could smell the liquor from three feet away.
Faith clenched a fist, then slowly let it out. “What happened?”
Sean rubbed a finger under his nose. “Let’s take a walk. At least that damn rain’s stopped.”
They walked west, passing the front door of the courthouse. Sean was silent, and Faith suppressed her natural urge to pump him for details. They crossed the street, passing Saint Joseph Old Cathedral, the oldest Catholic church in Oklahoma City, dating from years before statehood.
“You go to mass much?” Sean asked as they walked past the beautifully restored brick cathedral.
“Not too often,” Faith said.
“Me either. I’m sure Mom’s disappointed. Kind of a curse to have the name Faith, huh?”
Faith shrugged. “It’s my name. What can I say?”
“Yeah, I suppose.” Sean stuffed both hands in the pockets of his khakis.
Faith flexed and unflexed her hands. “What happened, Sean?”
“Did you see or hear any news this morning?”
“A little bit on the radio driving in. Why?”
“Anything about shots fired at an apartment complex?”
Faith glanced at him. “Yeah, on the northwest side. Neighbors heard a big ruckus in the apartment next door. By the time the cops got there, the girl who lives there was missing.”
Sean covered his eyes with the back of his hand, as if the sun were too bright.
“Sean?” Faith said. “Hello?”
“What did they say about the girl who lived there?”
“What’s this about? Do you know something about this?” Faith tugged his sleeve, making him stop. “Were you there?”
Sean jerked away from her touch. “The girl who lived there! What did they say about her?”
Faith stared at him for a long moment, then dropped her hand. They continued walking, leaving the cathedral behind. “I don’t remember her name. It was something fairly common-sounding, I think. Just that she was young and hadn’t lived there very long.” They reached the corner at Hudson Avenue. Diagonally across the street was the new Metro Transit bus terminal.
“Shit,” Sean whispered.
“Tell me,” Faith said, as they started to cross Hudson.
Sean gathered in a shaky breath. “It’s part of this job I’m doing. Yes, I was there.” They reached the other side of the street. Faith motioned to a bench outside the main part of the bus terminal, and they sat down. Sean put a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “Faith, I need your help. I need to keep this girl safe and out of sight for a while.”
Faith was silent for a while. Behind them, a bus pulled into the terminal, bringing noise and fumes and only half a dozen passengers. “Who is she?” Faith finally said.
“Sorry, I can’t,” Sean said. “If I start talking about it, then the whole thing’s blown.”
“And you think I have a way to help you keep her safe and out of sight?”
“I need a safe house,” Sean said abruptly.
Faith half-turned on the bench. “You need a what?”
Sean tilted his head back, looked at the sky, then looked at the ground. “Let’s cut the bullshit, sister. If you’re working for Department Thirty, you’ve got access to safe houses.”