“So are you. Yet here you are.”
“And I’m not exactly sure why.” He flicked a hand at the computer. “Does it say anything about his ring?”
I clicked about a bit. While there were no drawings or photos of it, there was a bit of text about the brandings.
“McHugh used his ring to brand suspected witches before their burning. The mark would cleanse their souls, banish their demons, and purify them for their imminent entry to heaven.” I lifted my gaze from the laptop. “I guess he was just trying to help.”
“My soul was clean, and I’ve never met a demon. Except for McHugh.”
“Got that right.” I lost myself in the process of surfing, reading, and surfing some more. Once in a while, I read parts of what I found to Henry. I thought he listened, but it was hard to tell as he kept staring out the window. This must have gone on a few hours, because eventually when I looked up, Henry was gone.
I turned back to the computer just as someone tried to open the door.
*
Bobby finally got a chance to return Sullivan’s call several hours later. By then his partner had called a few more times.
“Asshole,” Sullivan said by way of greeting.
“I almost got incinerated today. Be nice.”
Silence followed. “You what?”
“I went to interview a witness, and her house exploded.”
“Really?”
“Do I often make things up?”
“That’s usually me.”
Conner Sullivan was the least likely person to make things up that Bobby had ever met. Which was why he’d always wondered about the whole loup-garou thing. Of course anyone could snap. He had. And while Bobby hadn’t seen werewolves, he had felt, seen, heard, smelled … something. Usually when he was tired, sad, alone.
And drunk.
He shook off those memories. He didn’t need to dwell on that time in his life. He had too many other things to dwell on.
“You and the witness get out okay?”
“I did. She was already dead when I got there.” Or close enough.
“How many bodies does that make?”
“Two. Well, three if you count the perp. The first perp. Not the second. Who’s still at large.”
“And here I thought you were getting the sweet deal.”
“I’d trade you but—” Bobby paused. He wouldn’t trade. He was staying until he solved this case and made sure Raye was safe.
“No, thanks,” Sullivan said. “I don’t like big trees.”
Which only made two of them.
“You’d really have hated the wolf that came out of them last night.”
“Wolf?” His partner cleared his throat. “What did it look like?”
“Like a big dog with spindly legs. What was it supposed to look like?”
“Was there something weird about its eyes?”
Bobby’d been too far away to see much beyond the fact that it had eyes. “Weird how?”
“Never mind. Just…” Sullivan took a breath, let it out. “You got any silver bullets?”
“Funny guy.”
“I’ve never been funny in my life.”
“Except for your ties.”
“What’s wrong with my ties?”
“Besides that you’re always wearing them?” Bobby had tossed his ties after one summer as a New Orleans detective.
“Bobby,” Conner said, so softly Bobby leaned forward, even though he wouldn’t be able to hear any better across the thousand-plus miles separating them if he leaned over so far he fell on his face. “Silver kills same as lead.”
“Then why do I need it?”
“Because lead doesn’t kill the same as silver.”
“You’re starting to worry me.”
“Only starting?”
“I doubt there’s a silver bullet shop here anyway.” Although Bobby could easily see there being one in New Orleans.
“You’d be surprised.”
Bobby let the subject drop. “Why did you call me…”—he glanced at his phone log—“four times?”
“First because the boss wanted to know when you were coming back.”
He should have known that question was coming. He’d only been authorized to stay for a day. “Not until things are settled here.”
“He ain’t gonna like that.”
“He doesn’t like much. I’ll take some of my vacation time if I need to, but I’m staying.”
“All right,” Sullivan said. “Just … be careful.”
“It’s a lot less dangerous here than it is there, pal.”
Bobby wasn’t really so sure about that, and from the way Sullivan snorted, he wasn’t either, but his partner moved on. “I finally got a chance to go to the Hotel St. Germain.”
It took a second for Bobby to place the name. Cold case. “What did you find?”
“Like most hotels, every room on every floor has the same floor plan. Which means that if someone on the floor below goes into their closet and cuts a hole in the ceiling…”
“They come out in the locker upstairs. How could no one see a hole in the floor?”
“It was under the carpet.”