Autumn Thorns (33 page)

“No, Kerris. Don't get all paranoid. I know those people. As stiff a stick as Starlight has up her ass, she's not in Cú Chulainn's corner. Every one of them can be trusted.” Ellia
patted my hand. “You have no choice but to take the kidnapper what he wants.”

“I wish I had time to photocopy the binders.” I turned to Bryan. “I can't chance them seeing you with me. Aidan's life depends on it.”

He cocked his head, his expression dark and feral. “Don't worry about that. I'll be there and they'll never know. I won't be in the car.” He took the note and scanned it again. “Got it. I'll meet you there.” And he took off out the door before I could ask what he was planning.

Ellia was talking on the phone as I turned around. She finished. “I asked Peggin and Ivy to come over and stay.”

“You can't bring the Crescent Moon Society in on this. They'd want me to ignore it, to give them the binders and let Aidan pay the price.” I was ready to fight on this one, but the lament singer just shook her head.

“No, my dear. I'm not going to suggest that you let them harm Aidan. But you should know that not every member agreed with Starlight. Oriel, Ivy, and I are on your side. As are Gareth and Clinton. I don't know about the others, but you have us to stand behind you.”

I glanced around the room. “I don't know what to do. Surely Heathrow isn't going to let me walk out of there with Aidan, not in one piece. I don't trust the Hounds any more than I trusted Duvall.”

Ellia righted a small table that had been turned over. “I don't think the Hounds are behind this, Kerris. Heathrow's looking for glory and what better way than to secure their information? That would move him up the ladder in the organization, or at least I think he believes it will. He's not going to want to share the spotlight until he has the goods to prove his worth. But how did he know Aidan was here?”

I frowned . . . then I knew. “The phone. I called Aidan from the house phone. There was a bug on the landline—Aidan found it last night.”

“Then Heathrow must have been keeping a watch on you as well, to know when Aidan got here. What happened out in the cemetery?”

I told her, including the fact that something had seemed off. “It was almost like . . .”

“A distraction, to keep you from coming home until he had time to overpower Aidan. My guess is that Heathrow somehow knew you were headed back early and he did what he could to run interference. Kerris, do you have Aidan's security monitor—the one he found the bug with?” Ellia glanced at the clock. “Hurry, if you do.”

I nodded and dashed upstairs to the guest room. It, too, had been trashed, but the bug zapper was there. I grabbed it up and raced back down the stairs. “Here.”

“Let's go check your car.” She bustled me out the door and we went over the CR-V. As Peggin drove up and joined us, we found two devices. I held my finger to my lips and pointed at them. Peggin knelt down as Ellia flashed the light so we could see them more clearly. After a moment, Peggin pried them off and then, walking across the street, she set them down and stomped on them. That would be enough to smash anything, given that she was wearing pumps with solid brass heels on them. When she returned, she had a crease in her brow.

“One was a bug like last night. One was a GPS. Heathrow was tracking you.”

“Damn it. Well, that means he was able to tell when I left the meeting tonight—”

“And waylay you because you were arriving home too quickly. You said the Shadow Person seemed too weak? Chances are it was nothing more than a Taunt.”

I stared at her. “What's a Taunt?”

“It's a magical construct—not all that hard to create. Or to have someone else create for you. Taunts are easy enough to conjure up, for anybody who knows low-level magic. They're good at appearing like Ankou until you actually take them on. A Taunt is similar to a spirit-golem, but it's weak and easily dispelled. And now, you'd better go, if you expect to meet Heathrow on time. I don't doubt he'll kill Aidan if you don't show up, Kerris. But Bryan will be there. Trust in him.”

I nodded. That's what I was supposed to do, wasn't it? Trust in my guardian? Trying to weather a brave face, I slid
the binders into my CR-V and then gave Peggin a quick kiss. “Watch my babies for me.”

“No problem there. I've got Molly with me.” She patted her purse. “Now get out there. Ellia will fill me in.” She pushed me toward the car and tossed me my purse and keys. She also had brought out my bag, and now she tucked it in the back. As I took the note from Ellia so I wouldn't forget the address, I climbed into the driver's seat and, fastening my seat belt, took off.

*   *   *

P
art of me wanted to call Sophia. Police backup would be nice. But just the explanation alone would take me forever to get through. As I sped along the road, I punched the address into my GPS. It came on, giving me the turns and twists to make. I didn't want to think about the fact that I was going to meet the man I suspected of helping Duvall kill my mother. It seemed entirely stupid and foolhardy, but Aidan's life was at stake and I had inadvertently opened him up to danger by contacting him. I wasn't going to let him down.

Timber Peak Drive headed up into the mountains, up into Timber Peak, which was a bluff before the land swept down to meet the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Compared to the Olympics, or the Cascades, it was a day hike, but if you weren't used to the topography around the area, it was foreboding and steep. Loggers had ruled these woods for so many years it was hard to count, but now Timber Peak was protected, off-limits to logging and deforestation. It was also a gold mine for hauntings and ghosts.

The drive was an easy grade at first but shortly steepened. I wasn't far into the forest when the town dropped away and only scattered farms lined the sides of the road. Another five minutes, and my turnoff was coming straight ahead. I wondered who owned the land that Heathrow wanted me to meet him on, but then decided it didn't really matter. Friend or foe, it didn't matter. My only hope was that if it was an innocent bystander, they wouldn't know what was going down and wouldn't get hurt.

I eased onto the dirt driveway leading off the road and followed it back among the trees. It led into a dark, wooded area, and then through to a clearing where a house sat, and an old mobile home beyond that. The house was a ranch style. The lights were on and the front door was open, which didn't bode well for whoever lived here. The mobile home looked dilapidated and empty, but there was a Mercedes-Benz near it. A big old truck sat off to one side. There were no other vehicles in sight.

I turned off the car and waited, staring at the house, but there was no movement from inside. Quietly, I slipped out of the car, thinking about Peggin and her gun. I wished that I'd had the foresight to arm myself, but though I could use a gun, I was by no means an expert.

Don't know how to use a gun properly? Fucking don't buy one.

One of my baristas at Zigfree's had been a top-notch shot, and he told us over and over that in the hands of an amateur, guns were a bad, bad choice.

I finally pulled out my crowbar and slid the dagger—still sheathed—out of my bag and into my pocket. Nothing else wanted to come with me, so I locked the car and made a dash for the house, hoping to avoid notice for the time being. I left the books in the car. Heathrow wanted the binders? He could come out to my car, along with Aidan, to get them.

As I approached the house, I saw that not only was the front door open, but something was blocking the entrance. I moved toward it and saw a body sprawled half in, half out of the doorway. The victim was male, and he looked to be in his sixties. He was a large man, wearing coveralls and cowboy boots. Blood blossomed across the front of his chest, the stain spreading to cover most of his torso. The smell of gunpowder filled the air.

Wincing, I debated whether to call Sophia. Finally, I decided that it could wait. He was dead and he wasn't going anywhere. I'd call her after we were done with this. I made a quick sweep through the house.
Nothing.
Nobody was here, so that meant . . . the mobile home.

I slipped back out to the front yard and approached the structure, crowbar in hand. It was pitch dark and I considered hauling out a flashlight, but the fact that Heathrow had used a gun to dispatch the owner of the house—I assumed it was the owner—told me he was willing to put distance between him and his victims. It also told me that it was likely he wasn't planning on letting either Aidan or me out of here alive.

The mobile home was propped up on blocks, with a precarious set of steps up to the front door. A massive huckleberry bush sat to one side. As I passed a stand of fern surrounding a cedar, a movement caught my eye coming from behind the tree. To my surprise, a misty figure popped into view in front of me. Dressed in a pair of overalls, wearing a cowboy hat, a man stood there, husky and looking mildly confused. His torso was bloody, the stain emanating from his heart, and I could see what looked like a bullet hole in the middle of his chest. I caught my breath as he slowly moved toward me. The owner.

“What happened?” His voice was mere whispers on the wind, but to me, it was loud and clear. “I'm not sure what to do next.”

Dealings with the newly dead could be problematic, but maybe I could get right on top of this and turn it to my advantage. The thought occurred to me that we might be able to strike a bargain.

“I can help you if you help me,” I whispered. Ghosts didn't need loud chatter; they could hear loud and clear even with a whisper, if the person speaking focused on them enough. “I can free you, if you'll help me in return. The man who hurt you is in this trailer. He has another man with him. I need to know where they are.”

The farmer stared at me, then with a soft nod, turned and pointed toward the mobile home. “He's there. The two of them.”

I sucked in a deep breath. “Is there a way to get in there without being seen by them? Where are they?”

The farmer nodded and turned back to the tree, motioning for me to follow him through the brush and around the side of the trailer. I tried to move carefully and quietly. It was pitch dark, but the glow of the spirit was helping light
my way, though I almost turned my ankle several times on a wayward rock. We were to the right side of the mobile home within minutes, and then around the back. A door to the right, near the end, provided a second entrance.

“Are they on the other side?” I whispered.

He nodded.

“Can you make sure for me?”

Without a sound, the farmer disappeared. I waited, not wanting to move till I was certain. As I stood there, I sensed someone near me. Forcing myself to keep silent, I turned, praying I wouldn't be facing Heathrow, but there, to my delight, stood Bryan in wolf form. He had arrived before me. I knelt down and wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face in the silken fur that covered his body. He whimpered softly and nosed my face, giving me one long lick.

The next moment, the farmer was back. He pointed toward the door again.

“It's safe for me to go in there?”

He nodded. I paused, remembering the Taunt. If Heathrow could conjure up a Taunt . . . but no. Spirits were far different than Taunts or constructs. I was a spirit shaman and I could figure out what was real and what wasn't when it came to ghosts. The farmer was no illusion. He was a very real ghost who had, until recently, been very much alive.

I turned to Bryan. “I have to go in. You cover the front, will you?”

He whimpered again and I could tell he clearly didn't want me to endanger myself. “This is something I have to do. Aidan is in danger because of me. I owe it to him to go in there and save his ass. He wouldn't be in trouble if I hadn't called him.”

Bryan paused, then turned and loped around the side of the trailer. The farmer was watching us closely, looking just as confused as before. I had another idea.

“You can be seen when you want to be seen. The man who hurt you? I want you to go in there and show yourself to him. Scare him. Pretend to be a Haunt.”

Whether he understood me would be another matter. The
newly dead were often terribly confused, especially when they were victims of violent crimes. But the farmer caught a glint in his eye that looked almost like a smile and vanished. A moment later I heard a loud cry from inside the trailer. I yanked open the door and raced inside.

There, in the faint glow of the light, I saw Heathrow, waving a gun at the ghost. Behind him, trussed up in handcuffs and a ball gag, was Aidan, looking worse for wear. The farmer vanished as soon as I came inside—not what I'd had in mind, but sometimes ghosts took things literally. He had shown himself to Heathrow, and in his confused state, that sealed the bargain.

Heathrow turned, training the gun on me. “I see you finally got your ass out here. No more tricks now. You try something like that again and I'll kill both you and the shapeshifter. Where are the binders and that ledger?”

“In my truck.” I eased my way over to where I could see the front door, trying to keep myself from focusing on it. No use giving away Bryan's position. “Heathrow, you can't get away with this. The farmer's dead. You're going to be tied to his death even if you kill Aidan and me.”

“One death . . . three . . . five . . . what difference does it make? And if you're all dead, who's going to be able to pin it on me? I know you saw your mother's ghost when you were at my hotel. I knew then that you had put two and two together. But a ghost can't testify in court.”

The shock must have shown on my face. “You knew she was there?”

“She's trailed me for years, the little bitch. Ever since Duvall and I dragged her out in the woods and killed her. Not only spirit shamans can see the dead, Kerris. That's where you made your mistake. In assuming that nobody else but you can talk to ghosts.”