Deadly Gamble (39 page)

Nothing. By now, Nick had his ticket. He was onboard the glory train.

I swallowed painfully.

“Honey, can you tell me what you want?”

Her eyes pleaded with me, but she didn't make a sound.

I watched as she faded slowly away.

And then I sat there, beside the road, shaking.

When I felt I could drive again, I drove to the nearest phone.

It was outside a convenience store, and I wondered distractedly if this was the place where Greer had almost been forced into a madman's van.

I fumbled for change, dropped it, gathered it and tried again.

Tucker answered on the second ring. “Darroch,” he said.

I started to cry.

“Mojo?”

I sniffled. Got control of myself. “Tucker,” I said, “Gillian's dead.”

“I know,” he answered, his voice hard with anguish and disbelief. “We just found her body half an hour ago. In a ditch alongside a desert road.” Pause. “Which begs the question—how did
you
know?”

“I saw her.”

“The way you ‘saw' your ex-husband?”

I sobbed. “Yes.” If he didn't believe me, I didn't know what I was going to do. The burden was too big to carry by myself, and the image of that poor, frightened child, in her ruined ballet clothes and missing a slipper, was seared into my brain, probably for all time and eternity.

“Her stepfather was arrested twenty minutes ago,” Tucker said, his voice toneless.

I felt a tug at my arm and looked down.

Gillian stood beside me, a tiny ghost ballerina, her eyes huge with sorrow.

“Did your stepfather do this to you?” I asked.

Slowly, somberly, she shook her head from side to side.

A woman walked by, staring at me. I could understand her horrified interest; she couldn't see Gillian, so from her perspective, I was talking to nobody.

“Tucker,” I squeaked.

“What?”

“You've got the wrong man. Gillian says her stepfather wasn't the one to—to hurt her.” I swallowed hard. I hadn't chosen this new path or talent or curse or whatever the hell it was;
it
had chosen
me.
And whether I liked it or not, whether
Tucker
liked it or not, I was involved. I knew I couldn't turn my back on a child who needed me, dead or alive.

I had a visual of Tucker running splayed fingers through his hair. “She's actually
there
? Right now?”

“Right here, right now,” I said.

Gillian's eyes filled with tears.

Tucker thrust out a sigh. “Listen, Moje, I know you mean well, but you can't be part of this. You're not—official. You don't have a badge
or
a P.I.'s license.”

I held out a hand, and Gillian took it. Her grasp felt small and solid and stone-cold. “No,” I said, “but I have a heart.”

He swore under his breath. “You're not going to back down, are you?”

I squeezed Gillian's hand. “No,” I repeated.

I'd just stumbled into my next case.