And would he ever get over it?
Her stop came faster than she thought it would. She got off across from the Russian pharmacy with its Cyrillic writing scrawled across the top of it and walked down Rosewood Street toward the apartment building.
Behind her, she heard the doors of the train swing shut with a hiss. More cars sped past her and she waited at the stoplight to cross.
“Cold night, huh?”
She jumped at the voice and turned. The man from the train. About the same age as Curran. He must have gotten off after her.
And she hadn’t noticed.
“Sure is.” She tried to smile and disengage him at the same time.
“You live nearby?”
“I’m visiting a friend, actually.” Now would be a good time for the light to change, she thought. “I’m already late as it is. If I don’t get there soon, he’ll probably send the police looking for me.”
He chuckled. “One of those, huh?”
“Yeah, he’s very protective.” Suddenly the gun didn’t seem like such a bad idea.
The man smiled and she noticed how white and straight his teeth seemed. “Well, we wouldn’t want him to get concerned.” He nodded. “We can cross now.”
Lauren started across the street. The man followed. At the other side he inclined his head.
“You have a good night, now.”
Lauren exhaled; relieved he was headed in the opposite direction. “You, too.”
The man turned and walked away. Lauren watched him for a few moments until he turned a corner and disappeared.
Lauren suddenly felt very tired and very alone.
Chapter Thirteen
Curran stared at the mass of records and files sprawled across his already messy desk. Before him were arrayed the worst that Boston could offer up in terms of real scum. The case histories that he’d spent the morning reading would jar even the most-rooted individual. Pedophilia, serial rapists, murderers, child abusers, racists, and more all lay on the desk.
Curran looked at the yellow notepad next to him. He’d listed each criminal and their present whereabouts. He went down the list and crossed off anyone in prison. It seemed unlikely that the Soul Eater would resort to trying to get to someone behind bars.
Four other criminals were out of state. Curran crossed them off as well. For some reason, this guy had chosen to hunt in Massachusetts. He must have somehow known that his prey would be here.
The list dwindled down to just five. Curran looked at their rap sheets and tried to put them order of which he considered the most evil. When he’d come up with the next likely candidate for execution by the Soul Eater, he sat back and sighed.
Was this just a shot in the dark? If he’d applied this same formula earlier, would he have been able to predict that Fields or Simpson would have been the next target?
He frowned and reached for his coffee. No one ever said it would be easy.
A glance at the clock told him Lauren would most likely be out researching some more. This case was getting stranger by the minute, given that Lauren had insisted there were two corpses in Brighton last night.
But there weren’t any bodies.
Had she imagined it? Was the case beginning to fry her brain and make her think things were happening that weren’t? Curran had seen it happen to hardened vets of the force. Sometimes the cases got inside your head and messed about with your wiring. Before you knew it, you’d swear you saw purple elephants dancing across the street.
Now I’m just making excuses.
He grinned to himself. If there was ever anyone who could call him on his own insecurities, it was himself.
The fact is, Steve boy, you just don’t want to admit that any of this has a supernatural bent to it. Missing bodies only enhances the fact that something otherworldly might be at work in your town.
Yeah.
That was it.
And the fact that you’ve got a thing for Lauren.
He sighed and downed the rest of his coffee. Okay, time to shut up the inner monologue. He called down to Kwon’s office. His friend answered on the third ring.
“You doing anything important tonight?”
“Yeah, I got me a hot date with a stewardess.”
“I think they’re called flight attendants now, pal.”
Kwon sniffed. “I don’t go in much for political correctness. Damned junk has ruined this country.”
“Anyway,” said Curran, “I said ‘important.’”
Kwon cleared his throat. “You ever date a stewardess?”
“No.”
“If you did, you’d know it was mighty important.”
Kwon’s libido would kill him one of these days, thought Curran. “Want to help me do some surveillance tonight instead?”
There was a pause. “Lemme get this straight: I can go out with an incredibly attractive Filipina or I can sit with you in a cramped cop car, in the cold, sipping water and hoping my bladder doesn’t burst. Maybe you spring for some cheap take-out grub and I get indigestion. That about right?”
“More or less.”
“You see an obvious choice here, Steve?”
“I could use some help.”
Kwon sighed. “You’re kidding me right?”
“Be good for you. Take your mind off of all that carnal sin in your life.”
“’Carnal si-Steve, you hear what just came out of your mouth? You’re starting to sound all…religious on me. That freaks me out.”
Curran looked at his watch. “You in or not?”
“You realize if I break this date, you owe me big.”
“I’m already indebted something fierce to you buddy.”
“Yeah.” Kwon sighed. “Well, what are friends for?”
“See you at five.”
Rain spattered the windshield as the little daylight that was left quickly got blotted out by the encroaching night. Curran flicked the wipers and saw clear glass for a few seconds before the water made everything look like it was melting again.
Kwon rubbed his hands. “Turn up the heat, man. It’s freezing in here.”
Curran flipped the heater switch and felt the sudden rush of hot air fill the front seat. “Thanks for coming along.”
“Yeah.” Kwon sighed. “I was going to get introduced to naked Twister tonight.” He looked at Curran. “You ever play that?”
“No.”
“Yeah. Me neither.” He sighed again. “Thanks a lot.”
“Consider this service to your country.”
“More like bailing your ass out of some serious lonely work.”
“That too.”
