“In Reyes’s mind, it was all a fantasy. None of it was real at that time. Even you were a fabrication of his imagination, the girl of his dreams. But I knew what he did was real. When we got older, I started to research some of what he had imagined, what he’d done. Everything he told me actually happened.”
The intelligence sparkling behind Kim’s eyes belied the soft-spoken, meek woman I’d met earlier. She’d learned to hide what she was. What she was capable of. Admiration welled inside me. I would’ve loved to be friends with her in a different life. Under different circumstances. Then again, anything was possible.
“Do you know … do you know what he is?”
The question didn’t surprise her. “No. Not at all,” she said, shaking her head. “I just know he’s special. He’s not like us. I’m not even sure he’s human.”
I couldn’t have agreed more. “What about his tattoos?” I asked. “Did he ever tell you what they mean?”
“No.” Her posture relaxed minutely. “He just told me he’d always had them. Ever since he could remember.”
“I know they mean something — I just can’t put my finger on it.” I pressed a palm to my forehead as if to stop my thoughts from racing so fast.
“Are you like him?” she asked, her voice completely matter-of-fact.
I took a deep breath and refocused. “No. I’m a grim reaper.” Which always sounded so bad when said aloud. But she just smiled, wide and pretty. It took me by surprise.
“That’s what he told me. You ferry souls to the other side. He said you sparkle like a newborn galaxy and have more attitude than a rich kid with his daddy’s Porsche.”
I couldn’t keep a hiccup of laughter from escaping. “Yeah, well, he’s got a little attitude himself.”
She chuckled and folded the towel in her lap. “I think that’s what kept him going. His attitude. If he hadn’t been so strong, I don’t think he would have made it.”
My heart ached with everything Kim had told me. I wanted him to be okay. I wanted everything bad that had ever happened to him to be erased. But how could it if he didn’t wake up? “Can’t you please try to stop this?” I asked, my voice desperate.
Her fingers ironed out the creases of the towel. She’d made her decision. “Charlotte, he’s suffered enough because of me. I made him a promise. I can’t break it now, not after everything he’s done for me.”
As badly as I wanted to argue, I understood her position. I could see the love on her face and hear it in her voice. What I had originally taken for disregard was, in fact, a deep and ardent loyalty. I’d just have to put all my hopes in Uncle Bob. He knew people who knew people. If anyone could get it done, he could.
I left in the same state of surreality I’d been swimming in for days. With the passing of each hour, I learned something new, something amazing about Reyes. After searching for him for so long to no avail, the avalanche of information coming at me from all directions was a little overwhelming. Not that I was complaining. People dying of thirst don’t denounce a flood. The enigma that was Reyes Farrow became more mysterious at every turn. And I planned to find out exactly how many turns the mystery held. The question remained, however: Could I do it in twenty-four hours?
CHAPTER 19
I may not look like much, but I’m an expert at pretending to be a ninja.
“Where are you?”
I’d just left the courthouse when Uncle Bob called. Sussman suggested I file a preliminary injunction against the state on the basis of the fabricated possibility that Reyes might be the only man alive with information on a serial killer in Kansas. I hated to pull the Hannibal card, but it was all we could come up with on such short notice. If granted, it would restrain the state from taking Reyes off life support only temporarily, but it would buy me more time. I needed another chance to talk to him, preferably without him getting too close. Without him touching me. Or looking at me. Maybe then I could get some solid intel. I wondered if I could restrain him somehow, tie him to the kitchen sink or something. I needed supernatural rope. Or handcuffs sprinkled with fairy dust.
“Where are
“We need to get you prepped.”
“Prepped? For what? Did I agree to get prepped?” I didn’t remember agreeing to get prepped. I’d never even been to preparatory school.
Ubie exhaled loudly. It was funny. “The sting,” he said, his voice exasperated.
“Oh, right!” Forgot about that. “I just filed an injunction against the state. Can you get it pushed through ASAP? We don’t have much time.”
“Sure. I’ll call a judge I used to date.”
“Uncle Bob, we want the person you call to actually like you and want to do you a favor.”
“Oh, she liked me. Every inch.”
I paused midstride while a quiver of denial shuddered through me, then continued my walk to Misery. “Thanks, Uncle B, I owe you one.”
“One? Are you serious?”
“Um, are we keeping score? ’Cause if we’re keeping score—”
“Never mind. Just get your ass over here.”
After reviewing the plan ad nauseam with our two teams, one on the tech stuff and one on the exterior of the premises, I ran back to my apartment to get dressed for the part. I worked mostly on covering the bluish bruises I was still sporting from my most recent adventures. By the time I strolled on-scene, I looked like an oppressed librarian with sex kitten eyes and a pout that could make grown men cry.
Garrett stopped what he was doing and ogled me. I took it as a good sign, until he spoke. “You’re supposed to seduce him, not audit his taxes.”
Taking my cues from Elizabeth Ellery, I was wearing a red skirt suit with three-inch stilettos. Unlike Elizabeth, however, I had my hair pulled into a tight bun and wore glasses with thick plastic frames that screamed
“Swopes, are you even male?” When he frowned in confusion, I asked, “Have you never had a wet dream about a secretary or a librarian or a German schoolmistress?”
He glanced around guiltily, making sure no one was listening.
“Bingo,” I said in triumph, then strolled over to the surveillance van. Garrett followed, so I continued to rant. “Like Benny Price wouldn’t suspect a setup if some hooch off the street dressed to entice him and get him to confess to murdering four people. Hmmm. That’s a terrific idea. And if I were feeling slightly more suicidal today, we might have gone that direction. Look around you.” I waited for Garrett to notice the two women down the block, clearly strippers, strolling into the club. “Those chicks are more available to him than tap water. I, on the other hand,” I said, indicating my businesslike attire, “am not.”
We walked to the van parked half a block away from the club and knocked.
I turned to Garrett and whacked him on the head just as Uncle Bob opened the back doors. “Major in sociology, remember?”
He shrugged, semi-agreeing, when Uncle Bob took my hand and lifted me inside. Skirt suit and stilettos. Probably not the best clothes to wear to a stakeout. I was a little worried Garrett would try to give me a boost again by grabbing my ass. Then a little disappointed when he didn’t. A girl had to get her thrills somehow.
The van dipped when Garrett stepped inside.
“We still don’t have any news from Team Father Federico,” I said to Uncle Bob. “If they can’t find him, I don’t know what we’ll do.”
“We’ll have to worry about that later,” Ubie said. “For now, let’s get this on you.” He lifted a tiny mic from a padded box. “We got the smallest wire we could find.”
“Are you for real?” I asked, appalled. “A wire? The plan is for Angel to turn on that spiffy, high-dollar camera Price has set up behind his desk. We’ll get him on tape without him even knowing it. And more important, I’ll live
