The Awakening

similarities in Gaby's behavior and the lead character of the Servant novel. If she modeled herself after the heroine, it might be a way to track her.

Of course, it could just be that he was getting desperate. But still… 'You've already read it?'

'Most of it.' Though he winced, Mort sat up a little straighten 'It's incredible. Do you want to read it when I'm done?'

'Yeah. I do. Soon as you finish with it, let me know.'

Ann walked back in carrying a tray of fresh fruit and a warm waffle.

As a visual nudge, Luther glanced at his watch. Now that he'd spoken to Mort, they both had other things to do.

'Don't start pacing,' she said. 'I'm ready to go, too.'

She gave Mort the food, kissed his forehead, and after whispering something in his ear, left with Luther.

'That was nauseating,' he told her.

'Get used to it.'

'Really?' Luther could barely credit such a thing. Morty and Ann? He shuddered. 'You're hitting me at a bad time, Ann. I'm not sure I can take it.'

'You're just stressed. You've worked hard tying up the loose ends, getting that creep at the crematorium to confess. But he did just that, even detailing how the doctor paid him to look the other way. You need to take a day off, relax a little. Sleep. And eat.'

'Yeah, I'll get right on all that—tomorrows.' Today, he wanted to follow a few improbable leads. If he didn't track Gaby down soon, he had a feeling he'd never find her.

And that possibility was unacceptable.

Unfortunately, the weeks went by and still Luther had no clue where to find Gaby. Mort continued to deny any contact with her, and after staking out his place, Luther had to believe him. The Servant novel, while addictive, hadn't provided any new clues. In fact, it had depressed the hell out of him because the lead character had suffered a setback and as a result, would live her life in lonely, detached isolation.

If Gaby allowed the graphic novel to influence her, that plot turn didn't bode well for him.

After another long stressful day, he was about to pack up and head home for the night when a bruised and battered man walked in. He made a beeline for Luther.

Feeling more than a little uncharitable, Luther asked, 'Got run over by a truck?'

'No, some little bitch over on Fifth and Elm did a number on me.'

That put Luther back in his seat. The man sported a black eye, a bleeding nose, bruises on his cheek and chin, and a hand pressed to his ribs. 'You say she was little!' With a nod of his head, Luther indicated the man's bludgeoned posture. 'And she did all that to you?'

Hot color flushed beneath the black and blue marks. 'She was skinny, but tall. Maybe as tall as you. Fast and strong and mean as hell.'

Tall. Skinny. Mean.

Could it be? Hope slowly brought Luther to his feet. 'Dark hair?'

'Yeah. Has someone else been in to complain about her too?'

Luther waved that off and scowled at the man in accusation. 'Why'd she maul you?'

'Hell if I know! She took offense at something I did.'

'To her?'

He propped himself against Luther's desk and shook his head. 'No, to some old whore trying to rope me in.'

None of it seemed plausible—which seemed exactly like Gaby. 'Rope you in how?'

In a quandary now, the man did a verbal stumble. 'She… made an offer. I wasn't going to take her up on it. I don't need to pay for sex. But I told her she was charging too much anyway.'

'Right.' In other words, the man had tried to shortchange a prostitute on an agreed-upon amount. 'You insulted a hooker, and for that a female bystander beat the shit out of you?'

More color rose in his face. His teeth clenched. 'I think she was a whore, too.'

Rage seeped in. 'What?'

'She was hanging out with a few of them, being all chatty and friendly-like. Then boom.' His fist hit the desk. 'She threatened me.'

Surely, the man wouldn't be that stupid. 'And then you took a swing at a woman?'

Guilt had him backing down off his tirade. 'I wasn't really going to hit her! I swear. But before I knew it, she was all over me. Kicking, slugging it out like a dude, All without making a sound. I swear, I think she was letting off steam.'

Every nerve in Luther's body twitched. 'You say she's over by Fifth and Elm?'

'She was. But that was damn near an hour ago.' He touched his swollen eye. 'You going after her?'

'Damn right.' Luther grabbed up his car keys, his wallet, then he paused. It sounded like Gaby, but then again, it didn't. 'Was she dressed like a hooker?'

'Not like any I've ever seen. But why else would she be hanging out with them?'

Thank God. He couldn't quite imagine Gaby in flaunt mode. 'What'd she have on?'

'Sloppy clothes. Loose sandals. Oh, and a choker necklace.'

Luther's heart pounded hard. Would Gaby still be wearing his gift? 'Describe it.'

With a shrug, the man said, 'Black leather, I think. With a little silver cross in the middle.'

'Ann!'

At Luther's shout, the man jumped a foot and Ann came running. She looked worried. 'What?'

'Finish with this guy, will you?'

'Sure, but why?'

Like he had time to explain! 'I'm going out.'

'All right, fine, but… Luther! Slow down.'

'No time.'

'You can answer a single question, damn it.' Ann caught his arm and pulled him to the side. 'Now, what's going on? Are you okay? Where are you going?'

He tucked his wallet away, straightened his tie. 'That's three questions, Ann.'

'Answer one of them, damn you!'

'I'm fine.' A smile broke over his face. 'I'm going to get someone who got away.'

'A suspect?'

'No. She's not… that.' Gaby was too smart to stay in the area if she thought he'd have any reason at all to arrest her. Either she was innocent, or she knew he couldn't pin anything on her. At the moment, either suited him just fine.

Ann didn't appreciate his rush. 'This is insane. Do you need backup?'

He actually grinned, his first real grin in a long while. 'No, but she might when I get my hands on her.' On impulse, whether Mort liked it or not, he pulled Ann in close and gave her a sound smacker right on her mulish mouth. 'Hold down the fort, sweetheart. I'll be back when I can.'

On his way out the door, Luther vowed, 'You won't escape me again, Gabrielle Cody. Not a second time.'