“And what?”
Jill stroked a hand over her belly, frowning. “Something hit the windshield,” she said slowly. “Steeev jerked the wheel . . . and then I was standing in the middle of the woods.” She turned to me. “Kara, where is Steeev?” Her voice stayed calm, but distress rose in her eyes. She wasn’t dumb. She’d heard how upset I was when I answered the phone. More significantly, Steeev wasn’t with her right now, caring for her.
I told her, then hugged her when she cried. “He’s not dead,” I reminded her and hoped I was right. Jill knew how that whole thing worked from the time I died in the demon realm and from when Eilahn was shot to death here on Earth last year. Chances were good that he’d pass through the void and survive, but there were no guarantees. It could be weeks before we knew for sure.
“I know.” She sniffled against my shoulder. “But it’s awful for Steeev, and I felt safe with him around. With Zack gone I really needed that.”
I sighed. “Yeah, you did.”
Footsteps on the porch reached us seconds before Bryce entered, followed by Pellini. Bryce’s gaze went straight to Jill, and stark relief swam through his eyes at the sight of her safe and unharmed.
“You okay?”
She straightened and managed a wan smile as she wiped her eyes. “Yeah. Though now I’m all puffy and red-nosed.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” he said with a fond smile and sat beside her.
Yeah, he’d have been a godawful mess if she’d been hurt. “Did you find anything?” I asked him.
“We found where Carter set up for his shot.” He tugged a scrap of paper from his pocket and held it out to me. “And this, tromped into the mud.”
Although stained from its time in the mud, most of the details remained visible on the ripped corner of paper. The top held part of a green logo of a stylized running horse superimposed on a star, and below that was a sketch of arcane glyphs with a section torn off. I examined it then shrugged, puzzled. “Not much here. Three partial sigils.”
Bryce tapped the logo. “I don’t know about the sigils, but this might be of interest. It’s Emerald Star Thoroughbreds. Belonged to Farouche, and Angus McDunn’s house is there.”
That perked me right up. “You think he’s been back there? I’m sure the feds have been all over the place.”
“I’m thinking about his wife,” Bryce said. “They had something special. We used to see McDunn with her every now and then. Always seemed like cognitive dissonance to see an ice-cold murderer like McDunn playing the loving husband and father. Happy.” He shook his head as if still unable to believe it. “As far as I know, he kept his business completely separate from his home life. Anyway, if he contacted anyone, it would be her.”
I processed that tidbit while I also wrestled their son Boudreaux into the picture. “We’re looking for different information than the feds,” I said. “Might be a dead end but worth checking out.” I glanced at Pellini. “Are you up for a field trip to the stud farm?”
“Stud farm?” He lifted his chin. “I’ll blend right in.”
I rolled my eyes and held back a laugh. “In your dreams.”
“What about Jill?” Pellini asked.
“I’ve got her,” Bryce said. “Idris is here as well.”
“I’m in the room, you know,” Jill said with asperity then sighed. “Thanks, Bryce. I know I’m safe with you on the watch. And, before anyone starts lecturing me, I’m calling in immediate leave. The department can send a tech out to pick up the files. And, yes, I’ll move into the house. I know that makes security much simpler.”
“You can have the guestroom,” Pellini said. “I’ll take the futon in the computer room.”
I huffed out a dramatic sigh. “Darn it! I had my compelling and heart-wrenching speech all ready, and Jill had to spoil it by being sensible.”
“Save it for when you run for office,” she said. “I’m not budging until after this kid is born. Except maybe to go to the hospital.”
If my guess was correct about a headstrong teleporting baby in her tummy, I doubted she’d have a choice in the matter.
Chapter 21
The windshield wipers beat in a furious thwap-thwap against the deluge of a summer squall. Pellini flipped on the headlights and settled into a speed sensible for the rural highway. “It’s Sunday,” he said after a moment. “Boudreaux might be home.”
“Maybe he won’t know we’re there.”
He shrugged. “No idea what the layout of the property is.”
“He lives with his mom and McDunn?”
“Nah, he’s on his own. Has a little house. That’s all I know. He’s never invited me out.”
I eyed him. “I thought you two were pretty close.”