A short time later, after the story had been told, Sam nodded a final time. “Okay. So where do we go from here?”
“I’m not sure. I mean. I need to talk to Shelby, obviously—”
“Carefully.”
“Yes, carefully. But that’s not even my first concern. I need to—” She stopped herself and her hands patted at her shirt. “The list of names. The one I told you about.”
“From when you broke into Marshall’s place.”
Nora’s fingers pulled the folded sheet of paper she’d taken from Marshall Winston’s apartment. “These are all members of the cult. Most of them are dead now.”
Her voice just then was softer. It was one thing to confess to being Indigo, but another entirely to realize that meant she was also confessing to killing people. Bad people, yes, but still, murder was murder and she was placing monumental trust in Sam.
He took the paper and looked it over carefully. Concussed or not, his mind seemed to be working fine. “I know some of these names, I think. I have to go home and check my files, but I’m pretty sure they tie into some of my cases on missing kids and trafficking.”
“The last couple of days, it’s been pointing that way. Plus the Phonoi are skeezy. I can see them trafficking in kids to pay their bills. Anyway, I have a lot more notes. I’ll get them to you when you get out of the hospital.”
“What about your investigation?”
“Right now, I have bigger problems. I’m going to need you to handle the research if you can, Sam. I think it’s obvious your investigation and mine at least cross paths. But there are things I can look into as Indigo that I really can’t touch as Nora. And right now, being Nora isn’t the safest thing in any event. They’ve been to my apartment. One of them was waiting for me when I got home.”
“Was that a Phonoi? Or one of these … slaughter nuns? The Andro-whatever?”
“See? This is my life right now.” She shook her head. “Slaughter nun at my place. Phonoi at Shelby’s.”
Sam nodded and then froze for a moment, wincing as he waited out a wave of nausea. “I didn’t even like bed spins when I was a partyer.”
“Do I need to call someone?”
“No. I just have to remember I’ve got a concussion.” He smiled to make light of it, but Nora felt a wave of guilt again. “So I’ll look into those names. And I’ll let you know what I find.”
Nora was about to volunteer to wait until he was ready for a ride home when the door to the hospital room opened. Any positive feelings she’d been fostering were destroyed as Detectives Symes and Mayhew walked across the threshold. Mayhew was a perfect vision of health, as always, while her partner, if anything, looked sicker than ever.
Symes frowned when he saw Nora.
Mayhew smiled. “Some days the universe is on your side. Know what I mean, Hugh?”
Symes nodded. “Doesn’t get much easier.”
Sam tried sitting up in bed and went pale, as if moving made him nauseated. “What can I do for you, Detectives?” he managed. “You can’t be here over a little assault case.”
Mayhew shot Sam a withering glance. “Somebody get assaulted?”
Symes stuffed his hands into his pockets. “We were actually coming here to question you about the whereabouts of Nora Hesper. Seems she’s not been seen at home for a couple of days, but then, here we are and here she is.”
Nora shook her head. “Why were you looking for me?”
“We have reports of you being seen at the scene of a recent crime, Ms. Hesper.” Mayhew moved closer, menace in her gaze. Nora’s instinct was to fight, but she was not about to reveal herself to these detectives—not unless they crossed the line. She believed Mayhew worked for the Phonoi, but as long as she was operating within the parameters of her job, Nora would have to behave.
“What crime?” Sam demanded. “Maybe you should explain yourself, Detective.”
Mayhew stopped just out of Nora’s reach and rested her hand on her hip, right next to her service pistol. “There was a recent multiple homicide at a warehouse. We have witnesses who claim you were there when everything went down. We’re going to have to ask you to come with us to the station.”
That smile again, as pretty as you please and filled with malice.
“That’s ridiculous,” Sam said. “Who are these supposed witnesses?”
Nora gave him a dark look, urging him to be silent. Better that he be ignored than dragged into the mess. She needed him doing the research she could no longer take the time to do herself.
“Do I need a lawyer?” Nora asked, pulling the focus off Sam. She wasn’t worried about herself, but she wanted any ugliness that might result from this encounter to unfold somewhere else.
Symes answered with a shrug of narrow shoulders. Mayhew might have a shady purpose here, but her partner was at least pretending to be nothing more than a cop doing his job.
“It’s just routine questions, Ms. Hesper,” Symes said. “No one is making accusations at this stage, but we’d like you to come down to the station with us. You’re a reporter. You know how this works.”
Nora looked at Sam, and he carefully nodded. He knew where she was going. He also knew, now, that she was Indigo and could handle a couple of police detectives if she had to.
She wondered if Mayhew had invented the witnesses, and if Symes knew about the cult. Were they working for Rafe Bogdani? She’d told Rafe her name was Shelby Coughlin, but he might have found out the truth. Just as it was possible that Shelby had been the one to tell him that truth.
You don’t even know if that’s her name, Nora thought.
Too many questions, and only one easy way to find the answers she needed. Demand them from the one person she could lay her hands on who might know something useful.
It was Nora’s turn to smile. “Happy to be of whatever help I can. Lead the way, Detectives.”
The police precinct house, she suspected, was the last place the detectives intended to take her, but Mayhew smiled and Symes nodded.
“I’ll talk to you soon, Sam.”
Sam smiled. “Count on it.”
“Jesus. It’s just some questions, kids,” Mayhew said. “Don’t worry, Mr. Loh. We’ll get her back to you safe and sound.”
Mayhew led the way, but Symes stayed where he was until Nora preceded him out of the room. Part of her wanted to run, but she knew the answers were here if they were anywhere.
“So what are these murders you’re talking about?” Nora asked as they walked along the corridor.
Mayhew shook her head and looked over her shoulder at Nora. “You’re a reporter, right? Where have you been? The murders that everyone is talking about. Some kind of cult thing gone wrong.”
“Cut her some slack. I never watch the news either. It’s too depressing,” Symes said with almost no inflection and certainly without malice.
Mayhew chuckled. “That’s what I like about you, Hugh. You have empathy. You always see the bright side.”