Teddy was still trying to make sense of being a suspect in a murder. “How can they do this without a body? Where the hell is Mauricio Benneducci’s body?”
Marty’s lips thinned. “Carmine’s a cop, and I’d bet he’s pretty convincing when presenting the police with everything they need to at least investigate you two. I can only imagine the tale he spun, but you can be sure it’s a damn good one. They don’t need a body to question you surrounding the disappearance of a police officer, honey. And Carmine doesn’t need a body to get you out in the open. This is all an effort to smoke you two out. It’s a huge risk for him to take. I mean, what if other cops find you first—cops who aren’t dirty? He’s obviously pretty desperate at this point.”
Cormac dragged his hand through his hair. “We need Toni here. There has to be a way to get her here. She could tell us if this Mauricio is the guy she saw in a pool of blood that night.”
Wanda pressed her fingers to her temples and winced. “The door to the other realm can only be opened during certain times of the full moon cycle and some star configuration. I can’t remember the exact circumstances, but I do remember I have it on the calendar in my phone and it’s another month away.”
“Jesus,” Cormac muttered.
Teddy’s stomach sank, the butterflies from earlier replaced with sick dread. “So this Carmine’s effectively turned the tables on us. He’s plastered our faces all over the news nationwide.”
The kind of balls this took meant he was either desperate or he had some kind of death wish.
Cormac ran his hand through his hair again and sighed. “I’d love to know what this evidence is. The son of a bitch.”
Nina scoffed, her face twisted up in a scowl. “Well, you heard what the reporter said. He just miraculously uncovered it. You know the media score. They’re billing it like it’s some startling revelation, eatin’ it up like stray dogs. It also means the pansy fuck is scared because Teddy can identify him.”
“But he knows where we are, Nina!” Cormac returned, his fists clenched. “He knows where Teddy is. Why does he have to smoke us out?”
Wanda nodded her head in Darnell’s direction. “Because of our resident demon.”
Nina cackled her pleasure. “Some demon shit—a spell or whatever. Nobody can get in or out of the grounds now. I had him do it last night after the dude took a shot at Teddy. But you two can’t hide fucking forever. We need to handle this shit quick.”
Reaching for the back of one of the recliners, Teddy had to hold on to it to keep her knees from collapsing out from under her and knocking Carl down. “So what do we do now? We obviously can’t leave here if there’s a manhunt for alleged cop killers.” She knew she sounded hysterical, but she wasn’t used to being on this side of the law.
Nina nudged her shoulder with a light fist. “Here’s what we do—we chill the fuck out and we think about our plan of attack. If Carmine Ragusi wants to fucking play, then we play. For right now, you’re safe here. He’s not givin’ you two up—not yet anyway. It buys us a little time to find a way to make him and that borscht-loving freak Stas confess.”
This was hopeless. A guy like Stas wasn’t confessing to anything ever. Ever.
“It’s late, Teddy, and you look exhausted. Why not try to get some sleep and let us worry about the rest for now?” Marty suggested, wrapping her arm around Teddy’s waist and squeezing.
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? I’ll never sleep with a murder charge hanging over my head.”
“You haven’t been charged with anything, honey. Neither of you have. You’re just suspects in an investigation,” Wanda reminded her, her tone sympathetic.
“We might as well be on America’s Most Wanted or the back of milk cartons at this point. I don’t see how we can get a confession out of Stas, short of threatening to kill him.”
“If that’s how we gotta roll, that’s how we gotta roll,” Nina said without pause.
Before Teddy could protest the idea of murder, and the cold chill along her spine that came with it, Archibald swept in, two mugs in his hands with tendrils of steam winding out of them. “Miss Theodora, I’ve made you my special brew. Guaranteed to help you get a restful night’s sleep. You as well, Master Cormac. Now drink up, children—the sandman awaits.”
Both Teddy and Cormac took the mugs from Archibald with skeptical eyes. She didn’t plan on sleeping for at least a hundred years, but if it made Archibald happy, someone who’d welcomed them into the fold, cooked and cleaned as though they were his own, no way would she insult him.