“You mean the three devils who have been interfering with your artifact search?” Metcalf asked.
“Yessir. I’m pretty sure little Hannah had no notion what was goin’ on. She was just a lost lamb out in the big bad world who fell in with the wrong crowd. Miss Cassie found her and took her in, near as I can figure out.”
The preacher rubbed his head, trying to follow Hunt’s narrative. “Who is Miss Cassie?”
“The deadliest female ever to pack a bug-zapper east of the Pecos, that’s who.”
Metcalf stared at him blankly.
“She’s one of the three thieves, Father,” Daniel chimed in to clarify. He turned toward Hunt. “You’re saying that Hannah somehow became mixed up with those people?”
“The little gal couldn’t of known the score. See, she was livin’ in that house with a kindly old lady. I don’t think the granny had any notion who she was workin’ for either. But them three did. I figure they planned to keep Hannah as their ace in the hole in case they ever got into a tight spot with y’all.”
“Yes, that makes sense.” Metcalf agreed, softening toward Leroy. “So, you were trying to set a trap for the entire crew?”
“I was tryin’ to set a trap for more than them three,” Leroy demurred. “When I was in the middle of trackin’ your little bride, it come to me that somebody was feedin’ me false leads. That somebody had a whole bunch of people on his payroll. I expect this Mr. Big has got himself a set-up the size of yours with pockets just as deep.”
“I find your story hard to believe.” Daniel peered at his bodyguard intently. “You’re saying the three thieves are taking their orders from some mastermind who heads a secret organization that rivals the Nephilim?”
“Believe it, son. It’s all true.”
The old man raked his fingers through his hair. “This is very troubling news, Mr. Hunt. Why didn’t you inform me of the depth of this conspiracy?”
“Cuz they bugged my phone, that’s why,” the cowboy retorted. “Had me followed too.”
The preacher cleared his throat self-consciously. “It would appear I owe you an apology.”
“No need, boss,” the cowboy protested magnanimously. “Course now that your son Joshua jumped the gun and queered my chances of nailin’ the whole crew, they’re all in the wind again.”
“So, you don’t think the thieves and their leader will return to the house you had under surveillance?”
Leroy snorted. “Not likely. I’ll have to track ‘em another way. Boss, we need to shut their operation down or else they’re bound to show up when we go lookin’ for you last doodad.”
“I believe you’re right, Mr. Hunt.” The preacher nodded solemnly. “We must take every precaution to prevent the final artifact from falling into the hands of this Mr. Big and his minions.”
“Father, may I see Hannah?”
The question came out of nowhere.
Both Hunt and Metcalf turned to Daniel in surprise.
It occurred to Leroy that Daniel had as much reason to want Hannah to keep her mouth shut as he did himself. If the little weasel had helped her escape in the first place, he’d try to persuade her to stay quiet. Leroy took some comfort from the notion that somebody inside the Nephilim was accidentally furthering his own interests.
Metcalf was speaking again. He seemed downright cordial now. “In due time you may see her, my son. But be warned. She hasn’t said a word to anybody since she returned. Poor child. It may be a long time before she finds her voice again.”
“Better and better,” Leroy thought to himself. He put on his hat and rose to go. “I guess if you got no more use for me today, I’ll be on my way, boss.”
“Yes, of course, Mr. Hunt. I’ll make sure you’re generously compensated for a job well done.”
“A pleasure doin’ business with you, sir.” Leroy tipped his hat.
The cowboy and Daniel silently exchanged glances. Each wondered what the other was thinking but, like Hannah, they seemed inclined to keep their secrets to themselves.
Chapter 40—An Enemy in Need
Cassie sat listlessly on the camelback sofa in Faye’s vault parlor with Maddie beside her. Griffin stared unseeing through one of the faux windows against the side wall. All three of them were doing their best to avoid glancing at the empty purple armchair in the corner near the fireplace. It had been the memory guardian’s favorite spot.
The pythia slumped forward and rubbed her eyes wearily. She and Griffin had just returned from China. Instead of Faye’s usual warm greeting, they had been welcomed by the sight of her comatose body in the vault infirmary. Cassie found herself reliving Sybil’s death in an infinitely more painful way. As the pythia stood beside the old woman’s bed and watched her breathe, she expected Faye to blink and sit up at any second, but the memory guardian never did. Periodically, Cassie would glance at the clock on the wall and then back at the body on the bed, expecting a miraculous change for the better which never came. That hope, endlessly revived and then disappointed with every sweep of the second hand, was far crueler than the finality of death itself.
Eventually, Cassie and her colleagues left the infirmary and tried to talk of other things. The chatelaine filled them in on the details of the break-in. Much to Cassie’s surprise, Leroy Hunt had played no part in the abduction. Metcalf must have trained his homegrown security forces well. They had been skillful enough to strike the farmhouse and get away without being spotted. The idea of what the Nephilim might do next with those expert capabilities sent chills down Cassie’s spine. The pythia shook herself out of her reverie when she became vaguely aware that Maddie was speaking.
“Zach is a basket case.” The chatelaine toyed with her cigarette lighter. “And who can blame him? His great-great-grandmother is in a coma. His girlfriend has been carried off to face goddess knows what.”
Her comments were met by
