“Bloody hell, woman!” Reynard roared in her ear.
“Suck it up; we’ve almost got him.”
Okay, so that was a little optimistic. By the time Ashe reached the turnoff, she saw the BMW silhouetted against the bright April sky. Bannerman was heading southeast on one of the narrow roads that led through the maze of hobby farms north of Fairview. If they lost him in that neck of the woods, the trail would grow cold fast.
There was nothing but empty field between her and Bannerman’s car, but the winter rains had turned the ground into a muddy slough. She found herself slowing to compensate for dirt and gravel left behind by farm vehicles crossing from field to road. Bannerman was slowing as well, bumps in the road threatening to bottom out the expensive car. The lawyer was more cautious than he needed to be, but that was fine with Ashe. She was gaining on her timid prey.
The BMW crested a hill and disappeared over the other side. Ashe did the same. Pulled up behind Bannerman. Pulled alongside him. She glanced over, saw the mix of fury and fear in his eyes.
As the hill began to descend, she took a risk and put on the speed. The Ducati swooped ahead, Ashe dodging most hazards but gambling with her control when the road bumped too hard. A half mile ahead, the road forked. That was all the space Ashe had to stop Bannerman. When she had gained just enough distance, she slowed the bike, turning it to block both lanes. Tires chewed the pavement as she slowed to a stop. A plume of dirt and dust kicked up.
Reynard jumped off, grabbing his helmet off his head. He looked ashen, but he ran to put himself between Ashe and the oncoming car, drawing his Smith & Wesson as he went.
“Whoa! Stop!” Ashe yelled, steps behind him.
For a moment, she thought they’d both be a hood ornament. Only at the last second did Bannerman stand on the brakes, bringing the vehicle to a lurching halt.
Ashe stood very still, partly to show no fear, partly because she thought her knees would collapse.
The passenger door flew open and Bannerman shot out in a panicked sprint toward the main highway.
You’ve got to be kidding.
Reynard set his helmet on the bike. “Shall we go wish Mr. Bannerman a good morning?”
Ashe was right behind him. “Oh, yeah, I’m looking forward to this.”
Reynard caught up to him in a burst of guardsman superspeed. He grabbed the lawyer by one arm, dragging him back before he’d gone a hundred feet. Reynard pinned him against the shiny BMW.
Despite the cool spring air, Bannerman was sweating, his hair limp against his skull. The skin under his eyes looked puffy and dull. He seemed to have aged ten years since Ashe had met him only a few weeks ago.
The lawyer was apparently getting what he deserved.
“Going somewhere in a hurry?” Ashe asked.
“Let go of me!” Bannerman snapped, but his eyes were begging.
What does he think we’re going to do? Not that she couldn’t think of a few things.
Ashe tried to guess what Bannerman was seeing. She and Reynard were both dressed for action in dark leathers, denim, and sunglasses. They probably looked like rejects from a metal band. Reynard took his hand off the lawyer’s arm, but stood close enough so the man still couldn’t move.
Ashe folded her arms, a bit of a trick in a tight leather jacket. “So how is good old Tony this morning?”
“Don’t ask me about him. I can’t talk about him.”
“Yeah, right. The compulsion.”
The skin around Bannerman’s eyes puckered. “It hurts.”
Reynard nodded. “Some silencing spells work through pain.”
“Is that why you ran just now? Because you were afraid we’d make you talk?”
Bannerman bobbed his head once, his face going gray. Sweat shone on his upper lip.
“Damn.” Ashe hated this. Bannerman was a creep and had earned a lot of payback, but she wasn’t into torture.
“Is the demon at the North Central Shopping Mall?” Reynard asked. “Yes or no?”
“Yes.” The lawyer writhed as if something had pierced him through.
Reynard leaned closer, his expression showing regret, but neither did he shy away from the task at hand. “Has he purchased other places?”
“Not yet.”
So the two other addresses the hacker had given them were Bannerman’s own investments and not for Tony. Good to know.
“Are you in the process of arranging such a purchase for the demon?” Reynard asked.
“Yes.” Bannerman gasped.
“How many?”
Bannerman twisted and fell to his hands and knees, retching. Ashe jumped back before he puked on her boots. The sound made her mouth water in sick sympathy.
The lawyer held up three fingers.
The demon was trying to buy three other places.
Bannerman crawled to his feet, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief. Reynard hauled him up until he could lean on the car. Bannerman’s head fell forward. When he lifted it slowly, Ashe could read the exhaustion in every line of his body.
“It seemed simple at first,” the lawyer said. “He seemed normal, even nice. He just wanted a bookstore. I was settling the Cowan estate. I thought, why not? But then things changed.” Bannerman’s face twitched, but he had the look of a man gone beyond pain to numb surrender.
“How?”
“It’s like he was part human when he first came into the office. I couldn’t even tell he was a demon at first. Now he’s all demon, all the time.”
“How is he choosing his properties?” Reynard asked. “Are there certain strategic locations he’s after?”
“I don’t know. He just wanders around town. Once he settles on a place he likes, it’s up to me to convince the owner to sell. And up to me to pay for it.” Bannerman hung his head as if he’d lost the strength to lift it. His eyes were screwed shut. “You’ve got to stop him. I can’t.”
It dawned on Ashe that Bannerman had just volunteered information, despite the pain. She flashed back to her first interview with the lawyer, when his office had started dripping slime. In a roundabout way, he had asked her to save him from Tony then. He still wanted her to save him now.
“And if the owner declines to sell?” Reynard asked.
Bannerman shook his head. “I don’t want to know.”
Ashe felt another layer of anger spreading over her soul. “I am so going to ice this hellspawn.”
Reynard stepped back from Bannerman and reached into the car. When he straightened, he had a file in his hand. “Does this give the particulars of the sales?”
Bannerman opened his eyes and nodded.
Ashe took the file and glanced at the papers. She was no lawyer, but it looked as if every last detail of the transactions was documented there. She couldn’t stifle a grin. “You’re not getting a retainer, are you?”
Straightening, the lawyer returned a look meant to boil flesh from the bone, suddenly the Bannerman she’d first met. “I could still file for assault, you know.”
“But you won’t. You need us to save your skinny ass.”
“You violent, arrogant . . .”
“I wouldn’t throw stones, bud. You’re the one who hired someone to kill me, right?” Ashe shot back.
“You can’t prove that!” But Bannerman turned the color of bread dough, his eyes going wide. “As far as a court’s concerned, that’s pure speculation.” He was panting, his short, shallow breaths wheezing painfully.
Ashe let her disgust show. “Is that the demon talking, or just your own cover-your-ass legal bluster? Grab a brain. You just finished saying you needed us.”
Reynard peered over the top of his sunglasses, flagrantly unimpressed. “Shall I blow his head off for you, my dear?” Despite the breezy tone, Reynard’s fingers tightened on the Smith & Wesson.
Ashe put a hand on his arm, reluctantly letting go of her anger. “As much as I hate to admit it, he was under compulsion.”
