gets on my nerves.'
'She's only fourteen.'
Nohar sighed. 'Stephie, for a morey, that's adult.'
'Physically adult. She's still just a kid. How do you think you *d handle her situation if you were her age?''
That hit close to home. When he was that age, he was still with the Hellcats.
Back then he was probably worse than Angel—
' 'What do you want me to do?'' He mentally added, fuck her? He congratulated himself on not actually saying that.
'I think she needs some respect. She needs someone to show some confidence in her, reassure her. Most of all—' Stephie looked up at him, her hands knotted in a towel resting on his chest. 'I think she needs you to like her.'
'I do like her, sort of.'
'She needs to know that.'
Nohar shook his head. He supposed he had been treating Angel like a liability. Angel didn't deserve that. He changed the subject. 'Stephie, I think we better get both you and Angel out of town.'
She cocked her head to one side, 'Is that necessary?'
'You're not safe in Cleveland. You're the only one left from the campaign that could have seen those records. Hassan blew that plane just to take out Binder. God help you if Hassan, or the people he works for, finds out where you are.' 'Thought you were an atheist.'
Huh? Nohar mentally ran through what he'd just said. 'Figure of speech.
Anyway, we can't have you anywhere near me until this is over. I'll have Bobby reserve a car rental and a motel room somewhere.
218
S. ANDREW SWANN FORESTS OF THE NIGHT 219
He can fudge the records so no one will see your name—'
'Why me and Angel?'
Nohar put his arm around her. 'I want someone to be around to keep an eye out for you when I'm not there. Also, you pointed out, Angel needs a friend. You fit the bill better than I do.'
'When do I leave?'
'Soon as possible. Sorry.'
She turned around and started wiping the condensation from the mirror. 'Why is Hassan killing everyone in the campaign?'
Nohar saw the two of them together in the mirror. She was so damn small. 'I still think it's the campaign finance records—the Fed thinks some radical morey group is behind the killing. The target makes sense, but I'm not convinced.'
'Why?'
'Daryl Johnson wasn't a terror hit. It was precise, to the point, with no collateral damage. Doesn't fit. There's a motive for Johnson's death beyond some ideology.'
Stephie shrugged. 'You're the detective. You talk to Bobby and I'll try and see if any of Manny's clothes fit me—'
She walked out of the bathroom, leaving behind the pile of her old clothes. He watched her naked back recede down the hallway and realized that she was adjusting well to living with a bunch of moreaus.
Nohar limped downstairs and headed for the comm. Angel was still stationed in front of it. She seemed to have a growing addiction to the news channels. She was flipping through the stations with the keyboard.
Morey this, morey that . . . The nonhuman population was getting top billing everywhere across the board. It wasn't just the Zipheads either now. Harsk was right about the summer being explosive. There were already reports of retaliatory human-morey violence from New York. A Bensheim clinic in the Bronx had been firebombed, killing three doctors and three pregnant moreaus.
He thought about what Stephie had said about being curt with Angel. 'Angel, I need to use the comm.'
Angel turned around, like she hadn't heard him approach. She looked a little surprised. 'Sure, Kit.'
Angel got up and Nohar slid hi and started calling Bobby.
'Nohar?'
She called him Nohar? He turned around and Angel was looking at him, 'What?'
'Do you mind when I call you Kit?'
Huh? 'No, go right ahead-'
The comm spoke up, 'Budget Surplus.'
From behind Nohar heard Angel. 'Thanks for not minding.''
Angel left him alone with Bobby. Nohar watched her leave.
'What do you want, Nohar?'
Nohar turned to face Bobby and explained his problem.
After he was done, Bobby nodded. 'Simple enough. I'll get back to you in a few hours with some specific instructions. By the way—'
'What?'
'Are you ever going to want that data on Nugoya? It took a little effort to dig up . . .'
Nohar had totally forgotten about that. 'What could I possibly want out of that now. He's dead.'
'Well, Daryl Johnson's name pops up in it.'
Nohar sat bolt upright, ignoring the protests of his hip. 'What?'
Bobby displayed his evilest smile. 'I knew that would get your attention.' FORESTS OF THE NIGHT
221
CHAPTER 21
The wait while Bobby's electronic gears whirred into motion gave Nohar a chance to think. For the most part he thought about Daryl Johnson. He now had a connection, however tenuous, between Johnson and the Zipheads.
But then, there was so much junk in Johnson's system when he died, he had to be hooked on something. It was too bad flush addiction didn't show up on an autopsy unless they looked for it. That's what it must mean—had to be flush. Bobby had traced one of Nugoya's financial threads and it led back to, of all people, Johnson. There were only two reasons why Nugoya would be receiving money from Johnson. Since Nugoya only pimped female morey ass, it probably wasn't sex.
Nugoya was ofled for reselling the flush he got from the Zips.
Johnson was buying that flush.
Was he? Nohar wondered. If he was, Young had taken all trace of that drug from Johnson's ranch. Bobby had only found three weekly payments—if it was tiie sign of an addict, it was a recent one.
Blackmail? No, the deposits were much too small for Nugoya's taste had he known anything damaging. There was plenty of information that was damaging. .
It was another piece of the puzzle that didn't quite fit.
1 f:
; t
The comm beeped. It was time for Bobby's ride to show up.
A familiar Nissan Tory pulled in front of Manny's house, Ruby again. It would be a long time before Nohar would trust a remote van. Nohar opened the front door and waved at the cab. Then he turned to Angel and Stephie. Stephie had somehow made some of Manny's clean clothes fit her even when the proportions were all wrong.
She still looked good in them.
'You both know what you're supposed to do?'
