Blood, Ash, and Bone

CHAPTER Twenty-nine

I licked salted butter from my fingers. “So this is a stakeout?”

Trey thought about it. “I suppose so.”

“I thought it would be more exciting.”

He didn’t reply. We were parked in a lot next to the river watching Winston’s shop. The Lincoln had all the comfort of a luxury suite on wheels—all it needed was a mini-fridge. I had popcorn and a Coke. Trey had tea. Lapsang souchong. Decaffeinated. No sugar, no honey, no milk.

He kept his eyes on the pavement. Winston hadn’t left his shop, not even for one second. We knew he was in there, but the door remained shut with the CLOSED sign out. It was extremely weird behavior for a late Friday evening, when normally he’d be on the stoop, hawking pamphlets and coupons.

I stirred my coffee. “Is this typical for a stakeout? Sitting around for hours?”

“We’ve been here thirty-five minutes.”

“You know what I mean.”

He took another sip of his tea. The crowd moved in a river of alcohol and high spirits, and the sun set behind the bridge in sluicing orange light. One couple stopped at the sweetgrass weaver to buy a rose. The man presented it to the woman with a courtly flourish, and she pressed it to her nose, even though it had no scent.

They were on a date. We were on a stakeout. I tried to remember our last date-date, and couldn’t. It had been dinner, I supposed, or sex. Did sex count as a date? Not that Trey ever actually asked me out. I usually made the plans, and he showed up. Unless he was working. Or running. Or off kicking things. Or it was past nine o’clock.

I looked over at him, so capable and efficient, eyes riveted on the tour shop. “Trey? Do you ever wonder how we ended up together?”

“Your brother hired me for a personal protection detail.”

“No, I mean romantically.”

“You propositioned me.”

“No, I…I mean yes, but…you’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

He kept his eyes on Winston’s door. “What exactly are you asking?”

“I’m asking why you’re with me. You know. Like a couple.”

His forehead creased, and he looked thoughtful. One finger tapped the dashboard, but his eyes remained on our target.

“Can we talk about this later?”

“You’re sticking a lot of conversation on that later plate, Trey. If I didn’t know better, I’d think—”

“Because Winston’s leaving the shop now.”

I snatched up my binoculars. Sure enough, Winston was locking his door, a briefcase in hand. He looked left, then looked right, then left again, the epitome of paranoia. He didn’t spot us, however, and started walking briskly, one hand shoved in his pocket.

Trey put down his tea. “Come on.”

He got out of the car, and I scrambled after him. We walked along the water’s edge, next to the concrete barrier. Pedestrians wandered in intoxicated flocks, gazing into shop windows, clotting around maps.

Winston was an easy tail, however, despite his rather sedate non-Hawaiian shirt. He stayed on the sidewalk next to the shops and moved with purpose, the briefcase close to his body. Trey knew how to keep distance, but it didn’t matter—Winston was oblivious to us.

“He’s definitely up to something,” I whispered.

Trey put a finger to his lips. Shhh.

I shushed.

Winston sat abruptly at a table for two in front of one of the smaller cafés. Almost as abruptly, a man moved out of the alley and sat opposite him. I didn’t recognize the two men who remained standing at his shoulders, but I recognized the man at the table with Winston. There was no mistaking that hatchet nose and high forehead.

“Oh shit.”

“What?”

“That’s Gerard Dupre. He’s the Grand Wizard. Remember his picture? On those pamphlets the KKK’s been passing around? High level Klan, a much bigger deal than those morons at the booth.”

Trey pulled out a simple tri-fold map and opened it in front of us. He pointed to Forsythe Park.

“Look,” he said.

“At what?”

“At the map.”

“Why?”

“Because Hope’s here.”

I got a chill. “Where?”

“Eyes on the map.”

“I am!”

“She’s at a table—don’t look—on the rooftop bar, two hundred and fifty feet to the right.”

I fought the urge to search the rooftops. “What’s she doing?”

“Watching Winston and Dupre.”

He kept his head bent over the map, but I knew he had her locked in his peripheral vision. I tried to do the same, but couldn’t. I chanced a quick look at the roof. Sure enough, Hope sat at the corner table, her attention riveted on the street.

Trey’s voice was annoyed. “Tai!”

I snapped my eyes back to the map. “Sorry. Does she see us?”

“I don’t know.”

A wild thought occurred to me. “Trey, what if this is a set-up? What if she’s—”

“Shhh.” Trey didn’t move his head at all, but his eyes tracked the street. “Something’s wrong.”

“What?”

He shook his head, his brow furrowed. “The crowd flow isn’t right. There’s something—”

He froze, dropped the map, and then before I could take another breath, tackled me. He moved with the blinding speed of lighting, fierce and total, and I hit the pavement hard, the full weight of him landing on top of me. In the distance, I heard screaming.

“Trey!”

His hand covered my mouth. “Be quiet and stay down!”

“What happened?”

“Quiet!”

He shifted his weight so that I could breathe easier. Then he shoved me backwards against the concrete barrier, his body a shield. I couldn’t see anything, but I could hear the panic. The stampede. The screaming.

I twisted my head, craned my neck. One brief glimpse—Winston sprawled on the cobblestone, the café table overturned. I started shaking.

Trey took a deep breath in and out, his face expressionless, his eyes flat blue. He rolled off me in one swift tumble, pulling his gun as he did. Then he lay on his back, the H&K on his belly. He pushed himself to sitting, back against the concrete.

“Call 911,” he said. “And stay down. Don’t move from this spot.”

He was in the program now, not an ounce of shake in him. I closed my eyes. I wanted my boyfriend back, somebody to hold me against the rising hysteria, to tell me everything would be fine. That was the Trey I wanted. But this was the Trey I needed, this one with the clipped words and the cold eyes. He would be the one to get me out of this, not my boyfriend. He was the one I had to trust.

And so I did.