“Turn that off.” Russo’s fingers twitched on my arm, but she held tight. “Erase it. Now.”
“That’s going to be a hard no, but thanks for asking.” He kept filming. “Oh, and in case you try to smash my phone, I maybe should have prefaced this by telling you this is live. You’re streaming to the world’s most popular social media site as we speak.” He flipped the camera to face him. “Hi, Mom!”
Jaw clenched, Russo released me and backed away. “I will have my answers.”
I wondered if our virtual audience heard the threat as clearly as I did.
Neely killed the feed then zoomed in on Russo’s license plate as she sped off in her nondescript sedan. The click, click, click told me he had snapped photos before he pocketed the phone and swooped down on me.
“Are you okay?” He trembled around me. “I was watching to make sure you got to your bike okay, and then I saw her blindside you.”
“I’m glad you were here.” I sank against him. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
“That’s the same cop who came to see you before, right?” He rubbed up and down my back like enough friction might soothe his shakes too. “What does she want?”
“I’m not sure.” That much was the truth.
“I tagged Cruz in that video.” He pulled back to look at me. “Is that okay?”
Sure. Yeah. The more humans, the merrier. Goddess. The Grande Dame was going to have a dying duck fit. At least Cruz was on the Society payroll. They ought to be able to handle the damage control without me. “It’s fine.”
“Oh, God, Grier.” He dropped his forehead to my shoulder. “I should have asked you first. I should have—”
“You did fine.” It was not ideal, but it was done. “I’m fine. It will all be fine.”
A phone chirped somewhere on his person, and he checked the display. “It’s Cruz. Do you want to talk to him?”
“No, that’s okay.” I started making my escape. “I just want to go home and take a hot bath.” His face fell, and my heart ached. “Tell him to call me with any questions tomorrow, okay?” That would give the Grande Dame or whoever fed Cruz details time to sort out a cover story. “Tell him thank you from me in advance.”
“Are you sure you should take Jolene?” The phone quivered in his grip. “I can drive if you need me.”
“The fresh air will clear my head,” I promised him, since he was in no better shape than me. “I’ll call you when I get home and let you know I made it.”
“Deal.” He toyed with the screen. “Be safe. Call if you need me.”
I waved him off, straddled Jolene, and made my escape before we attracted more attention.
Jittery from my encounter with Russo, I hit a coffee shop and texted Amelie. She didn’t reply. I almost called, but I didn’t want to push her. She must have had a reason for not telling me she was taking the weekend off. Knowing her, she wanted to cram before taking her last finals.
Depressed over what I was about to do, I proceeded to make a bad situation worse by drinking roughly my weight in iced caramel macchiatos. There might have been a donut or two involved. A bear claw. Possibly one of those cream horn things too.
I was clinging to Linus’s belief I needed to carb up like gospel.
Linus.
It was almost time to call him. I really, really didn’t want to lift my phone. But I couldn’t turn the other cheek, either. People—granted, they were undead people—were dying. Permanently. That was wrong, and it had to be stopped before the dybbuk claimed another victim.
After sloshing my way to the restroom, I did my business and washed my hands until they sparkled.
Procrastination was a serious talent of mine.
Heart a weight in my gut, I dialed up Linus. “Hey, are you ready?”
“I have a bag packed. I’ll grab it and be on my way.”
Carrying luggage sounded fitting since he wouldn’t be going home after this for a long while.
“I’ll meet you there.” I ended the call before guilt leaked into my voice then rode Jolene to River Street. I parked in the same spot where Becky had accosted me and listened to the night sounds. “Cletus, you with me?”
The wraith drifted down to keep me company, and I had to wonder when his presence had become a comfort. Probably about the time he started acting unwraithlike. Yet another mystery in need of solving. Linus had chosen a piss-poor time to go on a killing spree.
A crimson sedan pulled alongside me and ejected Linus. He wore another pair of dark-wash jeans, a gray button-down shirt and work boots. A worn leather satchel crisscrossed his body. He murmured to the driver then turned to me.
The spark of excitement in his smile nearly slayed me. He might not believe Timmy was the real deal, but it was clear he wanted it to be true. He was eager to see the ghost boy with his own eyes. “Are you ready?”
I wished he hadn’t asked me that. “Can we duck in your car for a second?”
“An obfuscation sigil.” He read me easily. “Good idea.”
“I haven’t noticed any security or cameras onboard, but it’s not like they would tell me if preventative measures got installed after Marit was attacked.”
Not when I was under suspicion as far as her father and much of the crew was concerned.
Linus climbed back in and pulled a pen from his pocket, but I struggled to do more than perch on the edge of the bench seat. I was okay as long as I kept my feet planted on the ground, but swinging them onto the floorboard seemed as impossible as roping the moon. I tried, I really did, but the car was the same make and model as the one Volkov had stuffed me into weeks ago, and…
The second the thought registered, I bolted and almost knocked over Jolene in the process. “I can’t.”
“I understand.” He exited again and cast his gaze around the market. “Where is the shop you mentioned? The churro one?”
“Esteban’s stall is that way.” Relief blasted through me when I realized I wouldn’t have to sit in the car. “He won’t mind if we use him for cover.”
The man himself greeted us at the flap, smelling of sugar and fried dough, his arms dusted with white powder.
“Back so soon?” He rubbed his hands together. “Good. You should come back every day until you’ve put on at least twenty more pounds. You’re too thin. You’re like a papery layer of phyllo.” He noticed Linus and drew him into the lecture. “Men like women with meat on their bones. Tell her.”
Linus flushed a shade of red normally reserved for checkered picnic tablecloths. “Grier is lovely as is.”
“You don’t have to defend my honor with Esteban.” I patted Linus on the shoulder. “He’s not saying anything you haven’t already told me.”
“See?” Esteban crowed. “Men know what men like.”
“Men must like this look.” I lifted the hem of my shirt to flash ribs. “It’s on magazine covers everywhere.”
“Bah.” He swatted the notion of pop culture perfection aside. “Real men know the value in a woman who embraces her curves.”
“The reason we’re here—” I cut in before he got too wound up, “—is to borrow your kitchen long enough to paint on obfuscation sigils. Do you mind?”
“What are you up to?” He folded his arms over his chest. “You tend to disappear on old Esteban. I can’t be party to that nonsense. I don’t have so many regular customers I can afford to lose even one.”
“We’re sneaking onto the Cora Ann, the boat where I’m working.” I pasted on my best sheepish expression. “There’s a ghost boy there I want Linus to see.”
“Linus,” he echoed. “Clarice Lawson’s son?”
The son in question inclined his head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Esteban.”
“Your aunt was a good woman.” He turned fond eyes on me. “She raised another good woman.”
“I agree on both counts.” Linus rubbed the skin over his breastbone. “I miss Maud every day.”
“Me too,” I murmured.