“It looks bad. You chased that woman all over hell and breakfast, and twelve hours later she’s dead? The papers will have a field day. Murdering cop put on foot patrol. The department can’t afford that kind of publicity, Walker. The only place I want to see you in the next week is nowhere near here.”
“If I’m nowhere near here how can you see—” Morrison’s eyebrows shot upward. I shut up.
“Since you’re here, go get a uniform and the rest of the equipment. Then stay outta my sight until this thing is cleared up.”
“But—”
“Get!”
I got, stopping by Billy’s desk on the way out. “Swing shift?” he asked. I snorted.
“No shift. I’m on temporary leave of duty until this murder’s been taken care of. Morrison thinks I’m the prime suspect.”
“Isn’t it nice to have co-workers who have faith in you?” Billy shoved the paperwork I’d gotten from Ray at me, grinning. “So go clear yourself.”
I retreated to the coffee shop to study the files, reading about the murders and trying to figure out what they had to do with Marie. None of it made any sense to me. The last of the shamans, the quiet woman whose name I hadn’t been able to remember, had died on New Year’s Eve. Her next of kin was listed as Kevin Sadler, and there was a contact phone number. Maybe I hadn’t missed the funeral.
I’d never called up a stranger to ask about a dead person be-fore. Kevin Sadler had a quiet voice and told me I’d missed the funeral but he would appreciate a visit; the house was very quiet and empty now. Nervous, uncomfortable and glad I wasn’t in uniform, I drove to the address he gave me.
The man who met me at the door was as unprepossessing as his voice, with thinning ashy brown hair and weary hazel eyes. He was at least my height, but his shoulders stooped and he gave the impression of being much smaller. Despite the shadows under his eyes, he smiled at me and offered his hand. “I’m Kevin. I don’t think Adina ever mentioned you, Joanne.”
I shook his hand and came in as he ushered me. “We only met once, very briefly,” I said awkwardly. “The circumstances were unusual.”
A genuine smile flickered over his face. “Things with Adina often were. Can I get you some tea? I have the kettle on.”
Despite my discomfort I smiled back. “If you’re sure it’d be no trouble, I’d love some tea.” I followed him into the kitchen, looking around.
The Sadler home was tiny, small enough to be called a cottage. The kitchen was country-style, with innumerable calico cat figurines, besieged with flouncy bows, on wall racks and littering the counters. The walls were butter-yellow where they could be seen behind pine cupboards, and the counters a cheerful orange that somehow avoided being overwhelming. Only one small window, with pretty gingham curtains, gave the room natural light, but it seemed bright and pleasant anyway. A calico-printed kettle puffed madly, a promise that any moment now it would whistle and the water would be ready.
“I think the first thing I heard Adina say was swearing at someone,” I commented, still looking around. “I don’t think this is the kitchen I would have expected from her.”
Kevin smiled as he took down teacups from a cupboard. They looked like real china, with cats on the sides. “Adina liked to shake up people’s preconceptions. When did you meet her?”
“I was looking for help.” I couldn’t find a tactful way to say “last night” to this quietly mourning gentleman. “I think she may have had some answers, but I didn’t have time to ask her.” The whistle blasted. Kevin took the kettle off and poured boiling water over tea bags.
“What did you need help with?” He reached out to pat one of the calico cats on the counter. It opened its eyes and purred. I leaned back, startled.
“I’m tryingfind someone,” I temporized, then suddenly went on a gut feeling and corrected, “I’m trying to find the man who killed her.”
All the smile went out of Kevin’s face. “He’s a very dangerous man. A lunatic.”
“I know. But a friend of mine was murdered last night and the police think it’s the same man. Four kids were massacred this morning, and I think it’s the same man. I don’t—” I took a breath and gulped down air. “I don’t have much to go on. He seems to be attracted to different kinds of power.”
Kevin glanced over at me. “What kinds of power?”
Damn. I was going to have to say it out loud. “Shamanic power. And—and death power.”
Kevin nodded slowly. “Adina believed in those kinds of things. Do you?”
I let my breath out, relieved he hadn’t laughed and shown me the door. “I didn’t used to,” I admitted, “but some pretty convincing things have happened to me lately. Adina said she was a shaman and that…I was too.” I didn’t like saying it out loud. “But I don’t know much about it. I’m running blind.”
“But you think you can stop this man.”
“I promised a priest.” I smiled a little. “Seems like the kind of promise you shouldn’t renege on.”
Kevin smiled back without it touching his eyes, and turned away to take the tea bags out of the tea. He offered me a cup. I sipped and watched him struggle for words. “Adina went back east for Christmas,” he finally said. “To visit her family. She came home early to surprise me, and—” He took a shaking breath.
“Hell of a Christmas present,” I mumbled, and clapped a hand over my mouth when I realized I’d said it out loud. Kevin lifted his teacup in a mock salute, a ghost of an unhappy smile on his face.
“And a Happy New Year.”
CHAPTER 11
I left Adina and Kevin’s home with a list of books to check out and no more information at all about Cernunnos or anyone who might be working with him. I stopped off at the University Bookstore on the Ave. found all but one of the recommended books, and went home to check my e-mail. There were two messages promising I could lose fifty pounds in thirty days, and another telling me I could make twenty thousand dollars in the same amount of time. My spam filter was getting sloppy. I manfully resisted these temptations and sat down with one of the books. I was still reading when Gary pounded on the door.
“You look better,” he announced when I let him in. “I was half afraid you’d be dead, too.”
“Gee, thanks. I didn’t think you’d come by.” I let the door swing shut and went into the kitchen to start some coffee. Gary followed me.
“Lady, you’re the most interesting thing that’s happened to me since Annie died. You think I’m gonna miss out on all of this? Sowhat’d you find out?” He leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his chest, looking for all the world like he belonged there. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen a man who looked as comfortable in my kitchen as Gary did. He filled up the room in the same way I imagined Sean Connery might, so easy with himself it was like the air around him vibrated.
I put the distracting but otherwise appealing thought of Sean Connery out of my mind and lifted a hand to tick off my accomplishments for the day. “Priests are losing faith, the police don’t want my help and shamanism is kind of interesting.”
“Shamanism.” Gary’s bushy eyebrows climbed up toward his receded hairline, making deep solid wrinkles in his forehead. “I leave you alone a few hours and I miss all kindsa things.”
“You have no idea.” I frowned at the countertop, trying to find a place to start. There was a crack that ran along the edge of the counter. It had been there since I’d moved in. It had never bothered me before, but it looked dark and uncared for after Adina’s kitchen. I bumped my fingertips over it, shaking my head. “Funny thing is, a lot of this stuff makes sense to me. I mean, drug-induced spirit journeys, I’m not sure if I think that’s real. It could just be the drugs. But trance-induced, that’s easier to take. It’s not being brought on by mind-altering drugs, you know? It’s something your psyche is doing all on its own. But on the other hand, how much of it is influenced by what you’ve read or been told or have held in your subconscious somewhere? Does it
“Jo,” Gary said politely, “what in hell are you talking about?” I looked up and laughed. “Can you play a drum, Gary?” He leaned back, eyebrows quirked. “I can keep a beat, sure.”
