that I needed to know what was out there, what was being said. After reading the first headline, 'Satanic Witch Cult Surfaces near Salem,' I really should have quit. But I had to keep going. Of the three articles I scanned, two mentioned the 'missing Boston baby' rumor, one said I'd been seen skulking around at the local humane society, two accused me of being a member of some Boston 'Hellfire Club,' and all three said I'd been found at the site of Cary's murder 'covered in blood.' After that, I decided ignorance really was bliss, and turned off my computer.
It was now ten-fifteen. Time to put on a pot of coffee for Cortez. As I was measuring coffee into the filter, the phone rang. I checked the display. Unknown caller. To answer or not to answer? I chose the latter, but poised my hand over the 'talk' button in case a friendly voice came on.
'Ms. Winterbourne, this is Julie calling from Bay Insurance…'
Insurance? Did I have insurance with a place called-oh, wait, no, Bay Insurance was a new client. As the voice continued, I hit the talk button, but the machine kept running.
'…cancel our order. Given the, uh, publicity, we've decided that's for the best. Please bill us for any work you've done to date.'
'Hello?' I said. 'Hello?'
Too late. She'd hung up. I'd lost a contract. I closed my eyes, inhaled, felt the sting. Why hadn't I imagined this, that my business could be hurt by the publicity? But I couldn't worry about it. If they didn't want my services, screw 'em. It wasn't like I had trouble finding customers. Once or twice a week I had to turn someone down because my schedule was full. Besides, sure, I might lose a few contracts, but I might also gain some.
While I waited for the coffee to brew, I decided to slog through the rest of my phone messages. As if to prove me right, three calls later, I hit this message:
'Hi, it's Brock Summers from Boston. I'm with the New England Perception Group and we'd love to have you do something for our Web site…'
Maybe the old saying is right. There's no such thing as bad publicity.
'… already have a Web site,' Mr. Summers continued. 'But we're very interested in having you do some enhancements. I've seen your work and I know several people in our field who'd also be interested…'
This was good. Really good.
'… please check out our current Web site at www dot exorcisms r us dot com. That's e-x-o-r-c-i-s-m-r-u-s, all one word. We do seances, poltergeist exterminations, exorcisms of course-'
I hit Delete and sank into a kitchen chair.
'Uh, Paige?'
I turned to see Savannah in the kitchen doorway, binoculars in her hand, a troubled look in her eyes. She glanced over her shoulder, toward the front window.
'Let me guess, we have new lawn ornaments.'
She didn't smile. 'No, that's not-well, yes we do, but they've been there for a while. I was peeking out now and then, seeing how many there were. Then, a few minutes ago, I thought I saw a woman with red hair standing down the street, so I grabbed these to check.'
I jolted up from the chair. 'Leah.'
Savannah nodded and fidgeted with the binoculars. 'I was watching her-'
'You don't need to worry, hon. Robert faxed me some notes last night about Volos, and if she's more than twenty yards away, she's too far to hurt us. One good thing about having a crowd out front is that she won't dare get too close.'
'It's-it's not that.' She glanced at the window again and squinted, as if trying to see Leah in the distance. 'I was watching, right? And this car drove up. She walked onto the road, and the driver pulled over, and…' Savannah inhaled and passed me the glasses. 'I think you need to see this. You can see better from my room.'
I went into Savannah's room and walked to the window. There were at least a half-dozen cars lining our street, but my gaze immediately went to one parked five doors down, across the road. As I saw the small, white four-door, my breath caught. I told myself I was wrong. It was a common type of car. But even as I lifted the binoculars to my eyes, I knew what I would see.
There were two people in the front seat of the car. Leah sat in the passenger's seat. And on the driver's side? Lucas Cortez.
'Maybe there's an explanation,' Savannah said.
'If there is, I'm getting it now.'
I strode into the kitchen, picked up the cordless phone and hit redial. The line connected to Cortez's cell phone. Again, he answered on the third ring.
'Lucas Cortez.'
'Hey, it's me, Paige,' I said, forcing lightness into my voice. 'Any chance you could pick up some cream on the way into town? There's a corner store right off the highway. Are you there yet?'
'No, not yet. I'm running a few minutes behind.'
The lie came smoothly, without a millisecond of hesitation. You bastard. You lying bastard. I clutched the phone tighter.
'Do you prefer table cream or half-and-half?' he asked.
'Half-and-half,' I managed to say.
I lifted the binoculars. He was still there. Beside him, Leah leaned back against the passenger door.
I continued, 'Oh, and be careful when you drive in. I've got people hanging around my place. Don't pick up any hitchhikers.'
A pause now. Brief, but a definite hesitation. 'Yes, of course.'
'Especially redheaded half-demons,' I said. 'They're the worst kind.'
A long pause, as if he was weighing the possibility that this was a coincidental joke.
'I can explain,' he said finally.
'Oh, I'm sure you can.'
I hung up.
Chapter 17
AFTER HANGING UP ON CORTEZ, I STORMED INTO THE kitchen and slammed the phone into the cradle so hard that it bounced out again. I scrambled to grab it before it hit the floor. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely get it back into the cradle.
I stared down at my hands. I felt… I felt betrayed, and the depth of that feeling surprised me. What had I expected? It's like the parable about the scorpion and the frog. I knew what Cortez was when I let him into my life. I should have expected betrayal. But I hadn't.
At some deep level, I'd trusted him and, in some ways, that betrayal stung even more than the Coven's. With the Coven, I'd hoped for support, but deep down I knew better than to expect it. They'd told me from the start that they wouldn't help. That was rejection, not betrayal. Cortez had taken advantage of that rejection to insinuate himself in my life.
'Paige?'
I turned to Savannah.
'I thought he was okay, too,' she said. 'He tricked us both.'
The phone rang. I knew who it was without checking caller ID. He'd had just enough time now to get Leah out of his car. I let the machine answer.
'Paige? It's Lucas. Please pick up. I'd like to speak to you.'
'Yeah,' Savannah muttered. 'I'm sure you would.'
'I can explain,' he continued. 'I was driving to your house and Leah hailed me. Naturally I was curious, so I pulled over and she asked to speak to me. I agreed-'
I grabbed the receiver.
'I don't care why the hell you spoke to her,' I said. 'You lied about it.'
