“He likes me. Makes it an easy pick up. Plus no chance of running into Jose’s wife Melinda.” Callie edged past him to place the fresh incense in the holder.
For the first time since the Charmer’s blustery exit, Beck’s shoulders eased. “She isn’t that bad.”
Callie turned to watch Beck from over her shoulder. She didn’t have to lie when she said, “Last time she almost hit me with a vase.”
“She threw a vase at you?” Wariness melted away, replaced by a keen sharpness. The Soul Charmer didn’t hire idiots. You didn’t stay out of jail or with your soul long in this building if you couldn’t read a person.
“Not at me. At Jose. But I had the flask on him at the time.” Amusement laced her words, and Beck bought them. None of this was funny. Jose and Melinda weren’t funny, but the story at least wasn’t a lie.
“All right, Callie girl, I’ll swap the junkie for the philanderer with the angry wife.”
So he did know Jose. Melinda hadn’t been mad about the soul renting. Derek had collected cash from her before. No, Jose’s wife was pissed he was using the soul to step out on her without having to confess to their priest. Of all the parts of that situation to be mad at. Callie shook her head at the memory.
Callie slipped out the front door before the Charmer could pop his head out again and demand some fresh absurdity from her. Tracking down Johnny Rocks wasn’t going to be quick, but if anyone knew where to find the guys with the good meth, the guys who would know Nate, and who would be legitimately scared of her, it was him.
All she had to do was find the junkie.
That would be easier to do if she’d found him more than once. Last time Johnny Rocks had been beatboxing outside Deco’s, a local arcade. He’d told her he liked the lights. He’d tried to pet her hair. He’d been very high. Other than being too touchy-feely for her tastes, he’d been an easy repo.
Once back in her car, she cranked the heater. While she waited for the car to warm, Callie texted Derek. “You still busy?”
She’d planned to do this on her own, but his help wasn’t horrible. She wasn’t about to admit it to Derek, but not eating or sleeping was taking a toll. Acid churned in her stomach, and her belly let out a grumbling plea. She popped open the center console, and pulled an energy shot out. She knocked back the liquid, and hoped the organic pep shit wouldn’t rot her veins.
Derek didn’t answer her question, just replied, “Tell me where to meet you, doll.”
His devotion warmed something in her. Maybe her brain was going gooey, but she couldn’t help but smile. Even with Zara missing, even after Josh was an asshole, even knowing what lay ahead.
“Taco time,” she replied, and could already imagine his grin in response.
The greasy little taco shop had a different name, but a dozen years ago ran a promotion with a guy in a cartoon taco suit with an oversized watch dangling around his neck. The little pieces of matching pasts that she and Derek shared aligned in simple ways, but they mattered to her.
Derek confirmed he’d meet her at the south side taco shop in twenty minutes. Callie pulled away from the curb, and hoped Derek could help her find Johnny Rocks quickly. Finding someone who knew Adam was essential. Josh might not be willing to give her a possible address for Nate, but she wasn’t afraid to push Johnny Rocks to get her one.
It’d been five days since her mother’s fingers had been delivered. Mob medical teams were not remarkable. Zara needed her. Time had to be running out. Callie would not let Zara die. She would not let Nate take her mother from her. Callie gritted her teeth. Now wasn’t the time to let blame drip down her bones.
Souls, fire, drugs. Whatever it took to get her to Nate, to Zara, she was going to do.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Tacos couldn’t solve everything—they weren’t pie—but they sure didn’t hurt. Derek had arrived at Alberto’s first, and ordered Callie two of the shredded beef tacos. The food was plain, but still decadent in a dripping-grease-everywhere kind of way. Callie ate one of the tacos without question, and Derek relaxed. Seeing his jaw ease and his shoulders soften reminded her how much he was willing to bear. The bombings weighed on him still. His arms would twitch in his sleep, and his lips would curl down in a childlike pout, and though they didn’t speak of it in the mornings, she knew he was remembering placing the blast caps, igniting the fuses, running.
She didn’t want that life for him any longer. They’d agreed they were getting out from under the Soul Charmer, but that was an easier goal when mobsters weren’t disappearing with your family and when you didn’t know the people protecting unattached souls.
They didn’t speak of these things while they crunched through the fried corn tortilla shells. There was something to be said for savoring the silence. Unfortunately it couldn’t last.
Callie crunched the paper taco wrapper into a small ball. She bit the end of her soda straw, but didn’t sip. Finally, she said, “I need to find Johnny Rocks.”
Derek groaned, and eased back into the rigid metal chair.
“I swapped with Beck,” she added before he could suggest he take care of dragging the guy into the shop on her behalf.
He stared at her for a long moment. “Do I want to know?”
Probably not. “We need to find Nate. Adam’s phone didn’t tell me a whole lot.” She paused just too long, and Derek snatched the thread.
“What did it tell you?”
Callie’s toes curled inside her Chucks, but she managed not to squirm. Derek wouldn’t judge her. Why was this so hard?
“Josh was in the phone. I called him, and he wasn’t helpful. And he’s all set on hiring an
