Part 41 (1/2)
”Humor me,” I whispered.
”I would prefer-”
”I know.”
”You want something here?” one of the men said.
Gabriel moved so close I could feel him against my back. The guy stopped. His gaze traveled up. He was only my height, meaning he had to look a long way up to meet Gabriel's eyes, and when he did, he stopped walking. His two confederates flanked him, but neither moved another inch.
The lead guy looked back at me. ”You want something here?” he repeated.
”Not from you.” I turned to the one with the smallest potbelly. ”Tommy Shaw?”
The guy froze.
”Jane Walker,” I said. ”Bail bonds-”
Tommy bolted. One of his friends lunged forward, fists up. Gabriel hit him with a right hook that knocked him off his feet. The other friend stopped mid-jump. He looked at Gabriel. He looked at his buddy on the ground. He ran.
”Take him instead,” I said to Gabriel, waving at the guy on the ground, his nose streaming blood. ”I'm sure someone wants him.”
The guy scrambled up and tore off.
”Sorry about that,” I said to Gabriel. ”I thought they'd all run.”
He adjusted his right sleeve. ”It was a reasonable gamble with an acceptable outcome. Far better than having to take on all three. I wasn't looking forward to removing my jacket. It's a new s.h.i.+rt.” He motioned for me to resume walking. ”Thank you for recognizing Ms. Shaw's brother. That certainly made things easier.”
”It also means that we don't need to worry about meeting up with him at the house.”
That house was three doors down. We knocked at the front door. When Macy answered, Gabriel had the screen door open and blocked the inside door. She did try to shut it on him, but halfheartedly, stopping when Gabriel held up her driver's license.
”You dropped this the other night,” he said. ”May we talk?”
She glanced around.
”Your brother took off,” I said. ”But you might not want the neighbors to see you chatting to us on the front step.”
”Right. Um, come in.” She backed up. ”My parents are out...”
”Excellent.” Gabriel pushed open the door. ”We'll keep this short.”
She escorted us into the living room and cleared away beer bottles and a pizza box before we sat on the sofa.
”Sorry,” she said. ”My brother. He never picks up after himself.”
Judging by the condition of the room, no one did. Her cheeks reddened when I surveyed the overflowing ashtrays and clutter. I stopped looking and lowered myself to the sofa.
”I'm sorry I took off the other night,” she said as she gathered an armful of clothing.
”It was a traumatic experience,” Gabriel said.
She nodded. ”I tried to look Miss, um, Jones up, but I couldn't get any contact information. Otherwise, I'd have called you.”
”Let me properly introduce myself, then. Gabriel Walsh.” He held out his card. ”For next time.”
She took it with some reluctance.
”And this, as you know, is Ms. Jones,” he said.
”Olivia. Please. I'm so sorry for what happened the other night. We're still trying to figure out exactly what did happen. You know who my parents are. Unfortunately, the crazies seem to be coming out of the woodwork. I'm still not sure what message that man wanted to convey, but he seems to have been a, uh, fan of theirs.”
She looked appalled. ”Fan? Of-”
”It happens,” Gabriel cut in. ”There are some seriously disturbed individuals out there, which is why I came to a.s.sist Ms. Jones, along with her...” He seemed to struggle for the word. ”Friend,” he said finally. ”It's a very difficult and dangerous time for Ms. Jones.”
”I can imagine.” Macy tried for sympathy, but it was a struggle. At least she wasn't cowering in the corner, waiting for me to pull a knife.
Gabriel continued, ”I'm glad she was able to come to your aid, despite the potential risk to her own life.”
”Yes. Thank you.” Her gaze flitted my way and was even able to make eye contact before zooming back to Gabriel.
”We're trying to determine why this man chose you, what connection you might have to Ciara Conway, what connection Ms. Conway has to Ms. Jones, and so on.”
I smiled wryly. ”A lot of questions.”
”While we're hoping this man chose you at random, if he did not, we are concerned for your safety.”
Now we both got a genuine thank you.
Gabriel settled in. ”Having had time to reflect, do you remember anything more about the man who took you? Did anyone at the party get a picture of him? Do you recall having seen him another time-before or since? Any detail you can give, however small, will help.”
To her credit, Macy tried her best. She wasn't actively blocking us. We just made her uncomfortable-the serial killers' daughter and her hulking lawyer.
She hadn't seen the man since, nor could she recall having met him before. While she'd checked Facebook to see if anyone from the party had posted his photo, she hadn't asked around to see if anyone knew him. She would do that now if we wanted. We did. Beyond that, she could only provide additional details about his appearance, but since I'd seen the man myself, that wasn't very helpful.
While Gabriel questioned her, I kept feeling my gaze being tugged up to the bookshelf. There wasn't much there-just Macy's school texts, various biology and anatomy and nursing tomes. Fascinating stuff, I'm sure. Especially the one on than-atochemistry, whatever the h.e.l.l that was.
As our queries wound down, Gabriel excused himself to use the washroom. Gathering DNA, actually. While he was gone, I asked about Ciara Conway. She'd looked up the name online but found nothing. When Gabriel came back in, I showed her Ciara's photo.
”Have you ever seen this young woman?” I asked.
”Sure, that's my-” She stopped and lifted the photo. ”I was going to say it's my sister, Jackie, when she was younger, but it's not...” She trailed off, staring at the photo. Then her eyes widened. ”Is this Ciara Conway?”