Was saying the name of a spirit bad? But then why had The Voice done it in front of Dawn?
Breisi looked like she was turning something over in her mind. “Truthfully, I don’t know much about the Friends, only that they protect us.”
You should’ve told that to Kalin when the ghosty messed with me earlier, Dawn thought.
“I saw one coming back into her frame today,” she said, referring to the Friend in the hall, “like she was being colored onto the canvas.”
“That’s when they return home. You didn’t think they just floated around after chasing down lawyers or monitoring Lee in his cell, did you? They need rest, too.”
Good time for another question. “And how’s that going? Lee, I mean.”
“He’s keeping to himself in jail-land. That means no word about any of his vamp connections. He and his lawyers don’t even talk about anything to do with an Underground.”
Not the best of news, but…yee-haw, Dawn could be on her way to an answer about this Kalin. She got even braver.
“There was someone in that fire field picture that’s usually empty, you know the one in The Voice’s office? Has that Friend been away for a while?”
Breisi’s throat worked around a swallow as she merely stared at Dawn.
“Is the subject in that picture Kalin?” Dawn added.
“I can’t answer anything else.”
“Why?”
“Because they help us, and that’s not for us to question. Remember how they defended us at Robby’s house?”
Dawn nodded, then spoke up just in case the Friends were listening in. “And I’m totally thankful, too.”
“Then no more foolishness. We have a lot of other matters to focus on.”
“I can’t even wonder why the spirits don’t know who this murderer is? Don’t they have, like, their own contacts in the ghost world?”
Breisi started looking exasperated. “Many spirits travel in their own realms. It’s not as if they have networking parties.”
“I’m just saying. It’d be useful.”
Under her breath, Breisi muttered something that Dawn suspected was the Spanish equivalent of “bleeping idiot.” “I didn’t come here to have the great debate with you.”
Still, Dawn had to admit she’d gotten a couple of tidbits out of the stone maiden. “What’s up then?”
Breisi narrowed her eyes. “I’m free now to give you the rundown on the case?”
Knowing she wouldn’t get anywhere else for the time being, Dawn nodded.
Her coworker’s eyes gleamed because she loved this part. She was like a spelling bee champion who got to stand up during a dinner with drunk adult relatives and show off the lists of words she’d learned that day at school. “First, I tracked down one or two of Lee’s old roomies.”
“How did you manage that when the Tomlinson family wouldn’t give us names?”
She shrugged modestly. “I did the usual. A buddy with DMV connections got Lee’s old address for me. I used that to find his roomies’ names and current whereabouts.”
Man, Breisi was link central. “Nice.”
“Well, I didn’t find enough to fill a jelly jar. And I haven’t discovered anything that links Jessica Reese to Lee. But then I talked to the roomie Mrs. Tomlinson mentioned, the one who told her about ‘the lov-ah.’” Breisi waved her hand while saying the affected word, just as Coral Tomlinson had done. “Her name is Torrey Sajen-Morgan, a mouthful, and she had kept in contact with Lee until about a month ago, just before he committed the murder and took off. I told her I was a friend of Lee’s and I was planning to stage a rally to support his innocence.”
“And she was all for that.”
“You bet. She gave me names of people here in L.A. who would attend.”
Dawn stood, suspecting what Breisi had found. “Including the name of Lov-ah?” In her excitement she ignored the links her Internet search had brought up for Lane Tomlinson. She’d get to them later.
Breisi made a subtle tah-dah motion. “Sasha Slutskaya. What a name, huh? I’ve got a work address.”
“Damn, you’re good.”
“I try.”
As Dawn made for the door and passed Breisi in her haste to get on with this, the other woman held up a fist.
Oh, Dawn thought. Another bump. Right. Okay.
They lightly smacked knuckles, both of them holding back sort-of smiles as they exited. After weaponing and garlicking up, they jogged down the stairs, just reaching the door when Kiko came up behind them.
“Wait!” He was tugging on his light jacket over a dark top. “Boss said I should go.”
“But the sun’s setting,” Dawn said while scanning him. He seemed lucid enough and even kind of perky. Good signs, but she didn’t trust her prognosis, seeing as she wasn’t a professional.
Kiko shrugged off her amateur opinion. “I’m going straight into Sasha’s place with you two, and I promised I wouldn’t pull anything heroic. Besides, I’ll have the usual cover.”
Friends, Dawn thought. Which ones would be with them, hanging back, watching, waiting, just in case?