She stirred again, and grimaced. "Can't do that." She lifted her right arm straight out in front of her, the opposite side from the wound. Her hand trembled to a halt before it rose six inches above her shoulder. She settled that hand back on cat fur and tried her left — it couldn't even make shoulder height, and the dull ache woke up into deep throbbing pain.
"I can't go climbing around in abandoned buildings. Can't even change a goddamn IV bag without a CNA to help me. Damn fools at the hospital still waste Medicaid dollars having me work a regular shift. I just carry a clipboard around and look important."
Daniel looked like he'd started to think about feeling sorry for her, and she glared at him. He gulped and let Sibelius fill the silence between them.
Oh, the physical therapy helped. Her range of motion had almost doubled, both arms, and she could carry that clipboard now. A couple of months ago, she couldn't.
Kate had lost almost as much. Physically, that is, not counting Jackie in the balance. If that child counted as a loss, and if she hadn't been lost ten years ago. Or more. But Kate had started out so strong that she was still tougher than the average man. She could make her way around in that ruin, probably better than Daniel could. Brace up the floor joists and nail down new stair treads while she was at it.
But Kate still didn't feel comfortable with magic. Couldn't smell it and taste it and feel it slippery under her fingers. Couldn't, or wouldn't. Didn't want to. In spite of the fact that wood and stone went out of their way to please her.
And she weighed about a hundred pounds more than either Daniel or Ben. Walking on rotten floors, climbing stripped-out stairs with a bad hip. Scratch that idea.
One choice left. Alice gritted her teeth and nodded. "I want you to show Caroline the place. She's going to have to touch things, leave fingerprints and stuff. How much is it going to cost me to burn that death-trap flat once she's through and out? Think of it as a community service."
Daniel cocked his head to one side and studied her face, lips working as he thought for a moment and then another. "You care if the cops know it's arson?"
That made sense — start the fire fast and hot, multiple origins, then the firemen would just concentrate on containing it and protecting nearby buildings. They wouldn't send men inside a place that was already a minefield waiting to kill the unwary. Save the city the cost of condemning it and tearing it down.
Send men inside . . . Alice shivered.
God, she hated the thought of firemen dying in that dump. She knew too many of the local volunteers. They'd never admit to being heroes, but they'd strap on a Scott air pack and go in anyway, risking their lives to check the place from cellar to attic, making sure nobody had been sleeping in there with a careless cook-fire or candle.
Caroline might make rude jokes about the lack of a Haskell conscience, but the witches didn't risk innocent lives. Not if there was any other way. Guilty ones were a different matter.
"Forget I asked. She's half Morgan. Give her a crash course on not leaving evidence behind. You okay with that?"
Daniel nodded.
"And tell Ben to watch his step with young master Gary's lady-love. If that old pirate has a problem with dangerous women, take it up with me. Any family that's still spending Sir Henry Morgan's loot has no business being touchy about a few laws here and there. From where I sit, I'd think some proven survivor genes would look good on a Morgan balance sheet."
Daniel grunted and shook his head. "Well, Gary sure seems to think that girl looks good on a sheet. Don't know about his balance. I just hope he can keep his grades up, as well as . . . other things."
"Back off. That young man knows about her past, and he has his head on straight. He doesn't act like he's thinking with his dick, unlike some Morgan men I've known. If he believes he can trust her, maybe you should examine your own motives."
Daniel didn't look happy. Too bad. But Gary wasn't the major problem.
"Jackie Lewis, eh?"
Kate's daughter carried her father's name. Kate never had changed hers when she married Lew Lewis — some ways, the Rowley women were nearly Naskeag, nearly Haskells. They were matriarchs in that line, not patriarchs. They never left any doubts who ruled a Rowley household. Would the kid have turned out better if she'd carried the Rowley name herself?
Names held power. Haskell women never gave up theirs, and most times kept the father's name a secret. Caroline only knew about Ben because she needed to. Needed to know that handsome devil Gary was her brother.
Jackie Lewis. "No chance it was another girl? Big blondes aren't that scarce."
Daniel had kept his mouth shut, not wasting energy debating the impossible. Now he shook his head. "Big red blotch on her left biceps, not a tattoo. Birthmark. You've seen it a hundred times. One man I talked to got a real good look at it — she picked him up and slammed him against a wall four or five times. Pissed off because he didn't have more than a couple dollars in his pocket. She damn near smashed his head in."
Alice sighed, shook her head, and spent a few moments on rubbing cat ears. Must have been hot weather. The kid usually wore long-sleeve shirts, kept that blotch covered up. Just like Kate didn't want anyone staring at her belly and the scars. "This summer? After June? No chance it was last year or the year before?"
"Nope. Guy is a drunk, brain pretty well pickled, but he remembered he'd just scored a case of beer from a concession
