“I usually do,” Cassie drawled. “Otherwise I bump into walls.”
Erik snorted.
The pythia turned her attention to Maddie. “Was there any more ominous news you were planning to spring on us before we got sidetracked by the runaway bride?”
Maddie had begun to fidget with her cigarette case—a sure sign that she was in need of a smoke. Making a superhuman effort to keep her craving at bay, she pushed the case away and focused on answering the question instead. “We’ve been monitoring calls between the Nephilim and our friend Leroy Hunt. The word is that Daniel is headed to Crete to figure out the clue about the wind. He’s gotten at least that far on his own.”
“That’s good,” Cassie said with relief. “Hunt and Daniel head to Crete, we head to Malta. No chance we’ll bump into them that way.”
“Not so good as all that. Hunt’s staying behind to track Hannah until Daniel gets his bearings.”
“Oh, Jeez!” Cassie exclaimed. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I sure hope Daniel gets a brainstorm right away! We need Leroy away from here.”
“I don’t think we have too much to worry about from Hunt,” Maddie countered. “Even if he does manage to find the shelter where Hannah was staying, there’s nothing to lead him to Faye’s.”
“Still, I’ll feel a whole lot better once he’s sticking close to Daniel and chasing relics instead,” the pythia replied. “That cowboy makes me really nervous.”
Griffin began disconnecting the monitor and packing his computer. “It appears as if we’ll need to make preparations for an immediate departure, yes?”
“Guys, I can’t leave at a minute’s notice this time,” the pythia objected.
The others looked at her in surprise.
“With Hunt after Hannah, I need to sweep up the trail of breadcrumbs that she scattered right in front of my door.”
“You’re gonna have to find a new place to live stat.” Erik’s voice held a note of concern. “Someplace he can’t connect with any of us.”
“Yeah, I know,” Cassie agreed. “I also need to do some damage control.”
Erik raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“There’s one person still around who could lead him straight to me.”
Chapter 17 – Fishing with Dynamite
Leroy Hunt parked his pickup and stepped out at the curb to scrutinize a red brick building with white columns. He consulted a small notebook in his hand to check the address. It was the last one on his list. He’d been at it all day and for several days before that. One homeless shelter after another and always the same reply when he showed the picture of Metcalf’s wife. “Sorry, haven’t seen her.” After this place, he was going to find the nearest bar, throw back a couple of shots, and give his corns a rest.
“Home for Unwed Mothers.” He chuckled at the name. It was straight out of the cold war era. Nobody bothered to get married much these days or, if they did, they got divorced just as quick. He entered the building, crossed the marble lobby and stopped at a reception desk. It was staffed by a squat blond who’d seen the better side of fifty a decade before. The nameplate on the desk announced her to be “Wilma Hawkins – Supervisor.”
Hunt removed his hat. “Good afternoon, ma’am. I was wonderin’ if you might be able to help me?”
Miz Wilma wore a pugnacious expression and no makeup. She briefly looked up from her computer screen. Hunt suspected that, given her occupation, she didn’t hold men in high regard. Probably a dyke.
“What is it?” she asked impatiently, fiddling with her keyboard.
He produced the half photo of Hannah. “Have you seen this little gal?”
The woman did a double-take. Even if she was prepared to say no, Hunt could tell that she recognized the girl.
Miz Wilma finally gave him her undivided attention. Squinting up into his face, she asked, “Are you a relative?”
He rattled off the story he’d been telling for days on end now. “No, ma’am. I’m a detective lookin’ into the matter on behalf of the gal’s folks.” He flashed a fake ID. “She comes from a little town downstate and got into a family way a while back. Her people think she came to the big city. They’re all real worried about her.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe she had good reason to run away. Maybe one of her relatives was responsible for putting her, as you call it, ‘in a family way.’”
Hunt snickered inwardly. The old bat was closer to the truth than she knew. He maintained a bland expression and a level tone of voice. “No ma’am, that wasn’t the case at all. Fact is, she and some local feller got carried away. You know how it is at that age. Anyhow, when he heard the joyful tidings that he was gonna be a daddy, he lit out and ain’t been seen in the county since. I guess the gal was so ashamed, she figured to make a fresh start someplace where nobody knew her.”
The woman’s skeptical expression relaxed by a hairsbreadth. Leroy took note and pursued his advantage. “Now I don’t mean to bring her back or nothin’ like that. Her folks just want to be sure she’s in good hands.”
Miz Wilma let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, she was in good hands while she was here!”
“Was, ma’am?” Hunt asked cautiously.
“Yes, she stayed for a few days. Seemed very jumpy the whole time—like she thought somebody was chasing her. Then she disappeared, and nobody knows where she went.”
Leroy adopted a crestfallen expression even though his central nervous system was dancing a jig. He’d run her to ground at last! “I’m very sorry to hear that, ma’am. Can you give me any particulars so’s I can report back to her people?”
The woman paused to think, trying to recall the sequence of events. “She showed up on our doorstep more than a week ago.”
“All alone?” Hunt still couldn’t fathom how a gal who’d never spent a
