She stood there, panting, looking as one does after a righteous tirade: a little high on anger, a little relieved to have let it all out, and a little tired.
The names and the divorce part were a little confusing, but the rest I basically understood. Best not to question the unclear parts, so I asked, “Do you feel better?”
She brushed a few strands of hair away from her face, straightened her back, and took a breath. “Yes, thank you, I do. Let’s go get ourselves a cat.”
29
Since my car was expected, I drove to Lilac’s shop.
“It’s not a granddad car, Lilac. It’s an American-made luxury sedan that comfortably accommodates myself and my cat and, when the need arises, four of my closest partners in crime.” I couldn’t believe we were having this argument now.
Lilac leaned forward so that she was wedged in between Hector and I. Hector had taken the front passenger seat, since even my spacious backseat would be cramped for him. “Granddad car. Do we need to take a poll?”
Hector and Tamara both raised their hands, which made Lilac squeal in victory. Maybe this was how she relieved stress.
I glanced in the rearview mirror at one supporter. “Thank you, Sylvie.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “I’m abstaining.”
And the results were conclusive: I drove a granddad car. Cars were expensive, and new cars doubly so. I wasn’t getting a new one, so I gave up and shrugged. “I like it. It’s a nice car.”
“It is a nice car.” Hector nodded amicably. “A smooth ride, plenty of legroom—but definitely a grandpa car.”
No doubt Hector’s car made a statement, but quietly. Nothing flashy, but definitely cool.
Sylvie’s eyes crinkled, and her lips quirked with a suppressed smile. “It’s okay, Geoff. If anyone can pull off a grandpa car, it’s you.”
When I pulled into the strip mall where Lilac’s store was located, everyone fell silent. We’d arrived at the shop well in advance of the allocated time. The lights were on, and the shop sign was flipped to Open.
My concern must have shown, because Lilac leaned forward again. “I have two part-time employees that usually man the store when I have readings, need to do paperwork, or just can’t come in.”
Lilac, with her green hair, her lip piercing, her ghosts, and her abundant enthusiasm, was an adult who owned her own business. It was easy to forget. I’d assumed the store had been closed while she was helping us.
“Just a second.” She leaned on the console between the two front seats. “They should be coming out any minute. Phoebe’s closing early today, and I had her invite her boyfriend to tag along for the day.”
“That’s”—odd, but I opted for a gentler alternative—“generous of you.”
Lilac snorted and pointed. “Not even a little.”
A small giant dressed in khakis and a T-shirt emerged from the store, followed by a petite girl with shockingly pink hair. The pink-haired girl locked up and then the two got in the giant’s truck and left.
“Perhaps not a match for a construct,” Hector said, “but yes, I can see how he’d be useful generally as a deterrent.”
“Yeah. She really needs the money, and I hated to close the shop for an entire day.” Lilac huffed out a breath. “I made her promise if any big, scary-looking guys came in the shop and asked odd questions, she and Neil were to leave immediately, not worry about the shop, and call me after they’d left. I didn’t really know the right answer, you know? This job pays Phoebe’s rent. Look, are we gonna dissect my poor life choices or go in already?”
Sylvie gave her a quick one-armed hug, then exited the car, the rest of us a split second behind her. Tamara gave us a thumbs-up before disappearing around the corner. She was going to enter from the rear of the building.
“Any sign that they’ve showed up early?” I asked Hector.
“I have no idea, but I recommend you search the shop once inside.” Hector’s reply didn’t fill me with confidence.
Didn’t we have some kind of magical way to detect this guy? Or maybe that was Tamara’s job. If so, she needed to hurry up.
Lilac unlocked the store door and tried to hold it open for us, but Hector ushered first her then Sylvie inside.
Holding the door wide for me, Hector said, “Remember, you’re just here to have a conversation.” Then he disappeared. Not literally. He went around back to join Tamara. But he was stealthy for a big guy.
I went inside, letting the door swing shut behind me. A conversation. Right.
We’d never given up on actually negotiating Clarence’s release. It was more a question of what to do if—when—those negotiations broke down because Nicky discovered the vault had been opened. Or because he had as much anger toward Sylvie as a desire for her inheritance. Or because he’d already killed Clarence. There were so many ways it could all go wrong.
“Nicky?” Sylvie cried out as a dark-headed man stepped out of the bathroom.
He was older than the picture we’d seen. Well into his thirties. It was a passing thought, because most of my attention was on the gun he was holding.
The gun pointed at Sylvie.
“Did you think you and your little gang were the only ones who’d come early?” Other than a slightly breathless quality, his tone was confident. The gun in his hand, however, wasn’t very steady.
The answer to his question was no, we had not thought we’d be the only early ones. I didn’t think he’d
