Part 32 (1/2)

”Which is?”

”Your bodyguard.” His mouth twitched in what might have been a smile. ”I thought I'd best remind you of that.”

”I'm glad you did. Thank you.”

When he held out his hand, I took it. I knew that we'd completed a bargain, even though I couldn't find the words to define what that bargain entailed. I felt so grateful that another stake dropped into the picket fence, so quietly that I almost missed hearing it.

CHAPTER 14.

I ENDED UP FILING MY AGENCY REPORTS EARLY the next morning. While I finished the last details, Ari phoned San Francisco General and heard that yes, Reb Ezekiel had died in the night. He called Itzak Stein to pa.s.s the news along.

”He said he was sorry to hear it,” Ari told me afterward. ”So am I, oddly enough. We may have been furious at the old man, but he was always part of our lives, even when we hadn't seen him for years.”

”I can see that, yeah,” I said. ”My sympathies.”

Ari glanced at his watch. ”Our first appointment's in an hour. How far away is Pacifica?”

”Not very, but I'd better get my b.u.t.t in gear and hurry anyway.”

I put on the glen plaid skirt suit with the teal silk blouse, sensible low heels, and the official-looking shoulder bag for our quick tour of local police departments. Ari just wore slacks and took his sport coat rather than wearing the police suit. He had his Interpol ID; I had my cross-agency version. We introduced ourselves to various officers, who gave serious attention to our case of an internationally known blackmailer. All of them promised help when necessary.

After each stop, we lingered in the safe territory of the police station parking lot while I ran scans. I never got a clear focus on Caleb. I could pick up the edge, as it were, of his s.h.i.+eld Persona. Beyond that, he disappeared into a cloud of mist. Now and then I heard the bubbling noise of air rising in water that possibly meant I'd caught a glimpse of Belial. As far as I could tell, he was sticking close to Caleb. I could only wonder why.

”I don't like this,” I said to Ari. ”Something's wrong, but I can't find what it is.”

”We'll need to be very careful then,” Ari said. ”I may have to make an arrest as we leave the restaurant. It'll be harder for Donovan to sort things out for his father, unfortunately, but if it's necessary-”

”Yeah, go for it. You might want to warn Jack it could happen.”

”I will, yes.”

After the official introductions, we drove home under a dark gray sky. Rather than meeting us at the Boulevard, Jack stopped by our place first. Thanks to the force of karmic gravity, he had Dad's old desk in the SUV with him, a solid oak number with drawers on each side of the kneehole. Kathleen had insisted he take it in with him. She'd supplied an antique oak captain's chair and a couple of needlepoint seat cus.h.i.+ons to go with it. Ari changed into jeans for the furniture moving job.

While the guys unloaded the SUV, I changed into the gray glen plaid trousers with the teal sweater and a pair of blue suede athleisure shoes. After a quick look out the window at the sky, I also got out my burgundy raincoat. Between them, Jack and Ari carried the desk and the chair up the outside stairs and into the lower flat, which we were planning on turning into an office. With it came two big cardboard cartons of the things my mother had been keeping in it. Those they brought upstairs. I put them next to my desk in the living room for sorting later.

”I bet some of these papers are in Irish,” I said. ”If not all of them. I'll have to get out the dictionary.”

”I'm surprised you're not fluent,” Ari said. ”I'm a.s.suming your father was.”

”Yeah, but the family didn't use it much. Not everyone's as good with languages as you are.”

While Jack went over the strategy for the meeting with Ari, I went downstairs to take a look at the desk, just out of nostalgia. Dad had found it at a garage sale, and I remembered how he, Dan, and Sean had all struggled to load it into his truck and get it home. Made of solid oak, it stood over three feet high and had heavy drawers on either side of the kneehole.

The men had left the drawers piled up on the floor. I put them back into their proper places.

I had just finished sliding the last one in place when I felt someone watching me. I spun around and saw a transparent blue woman standing in the doorway to the living room. Long dark hair hung down to her narrow hips. She wore a long dress slit to reveal her heavy b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Since I had no talent for seeing ghosts and speaking with the dead, I a.s.sumed that I was merely objectifying the vibes of the person who'd committed suicide in the flat.

”There's one more drawer,” she said to me.

”I don't see one,” I said.

”Oh.” She fixed me with a sad stare. ”Too bad.”

I raised a hand and smiled. ”Go in peace,” I said.

She smiled and disappeared.

Ari knocked on the door of the flat and called out that Jack had just left for the restaurant. We followed in the Saturn. Ari carried the Beretta in his shoulder holster under his gray sport coat. He also took his beaten-up old army trench coat. I made a mental note to replace that at soon as I had a chance.

We reached the Boulevard at 1:15, fifteen minutes early. I found a good parking place near the steps that led up to the entrance, then sat in the car and ran an SM:P on both Caleb and Belial. This time I received a misty image of Caleb driving on a wide street or narrow highway, on his way, I figured. Since he made no psychic response to my scan, I could a.s.sume that he hadn't noticed it. I felt no contact with Belial at all.

Jack had gotten a table for four in a quiet corner toward the rear of the open-plan restaurant. We sat down facing the door. The table stood in front of a floor-to-ceiling brown curtain near the kitchen and out of the main traffic aisle to the entrance, which ran slantwise between lines of maroon booths and banquettes. If Caleb decided to bolt and run, he'd have a difficult time making speed in the maze of chairs and customers.

”I'm starving,” Jack announced. ”The dog pack woke us up real early this morning, barking at a d.a.m.n deer that came up to the fence. I had breakfast a long time ago. I've told the waitress we're expecting someone else, but we could at least order. Have you guys eaten yet?”

”No,” Ari said, ”and I'm hungry, too. We know, of course, that Nola isn't.”

”Oh, shut up,” I said.

They both grinned at me, the swine. When the waitress came over, they ordered, and I got a caffe latte, made with skim milk, of course.

And we waited. They ate, and I snagged a piece of Ari's toast and even put jam on it. At 1:45, I ran another SM:P. Nothing. The restaurant began to clear out. We waited a bit longer while they finished their food. At 2:10, I realized the obvious.

”He's not coming,” I said. ”You can call this an O'Grady moment or common sense, but something's tipped the little slimeball off.”

Ari and I exchanged a glance. We both could guess that Brother Belial was most likely the ”something.” Jack, who knew nothing about the coven or my real job, started to swear like the ex-Marine he was, then stopped himself because the waitress was within earshot. She brought them more coffee. The busboy came and cleared the table. Just to make sure, we waited another fifteen minutes. No Caleb. Jack paid the bill.

”What now?” Jack said.

”Now we go to the police,” Ari said, ”and request they get a warrant for his arrest. For that to happen, you'll have to make a formal statement. Are you willing to do that?”

Jack sagged in his chair and looked away.

”If you make the complaint to the Pacifica police,” Ari continued, ”and you have that right based on Sumner's last known address, it's highly unlikely that anyone who lives near your father will ever hear of this. Blackmail victims have the right to remain anonymous.”

”But will my father have to make a statement?” Jack said.

Ari drank the last of his coffee before he answered. ”I'm not sure. Sumner never directly extorted anything from him. He played upon your fear of his being harmed and extorted money from you. Can you say how much, come to think of it?”

”Over eight thousand. Not counting the current credit card bill, which is probably plenty.”

”We're definitely in the felony range, then. Blackmail's always a felony, I should say, but a clever solicitor can get the charges reduced if the amount is small. At any rate, you're the princ.i.p.al victim here.”

”Sure am.” Jack drummed his fingers on the tabletop. ”You know, I want to talk with my lawyer about this before I go to the police. It's a cop out, I know, but s.h.i.+t, I just saw Dad, and he's getting frail. He's only seventy, but the cancer really took it out of him. I was hoping we could settle this without bringing him into it.”

”That would have been best,” Ari said. ”It's your choice, but my advice would be to go to the police.”