Eighth Grave After Dark
Page 54“Which convent?”
“Dude, seriously, if you start playing games with me now, I will stop your heart in your chest. Funny thing is, you know I can do it. You’ve been stalking me for years. How do you think that makes me feel?”
Silence.
“Angry, Howard. It makes me feel angry.”
“If they find out—”
“You’ll lose your job?” I scoffed. “You’re about to lose it anyway. You’ve been busted by your mark. A mark who is going to rain hellfire down on your boss’s city. How do you think that will end?”
“I’m just an observer. I don’t do research.”
“Bullshit. Try again.”
He sat thinking over his options, but the fact was, he didn’t have any. Not if he didn’t want to lose his cushy job.
“O—”
Before he could even finish the okay part, I said, “Get that picture you have of my dad and that other man to my uncle tonight and find out about the nun and the priest. You have two hours.”
When I was met with only silence again, I said, “Howard, give the phone back to my uncle now. You’re burning moonlight.”
“What did he say?” Uncle Bob asked as he walked away from Howard. I could hear his footsteps in the background. “Is he going to cooperate?”
“He didn’t have anything to do with Dad’s death, but I think he might have a photo of someone who did. Dad seemed to be confronting a guy, and they both looked angry. He’s going to give you that photo, but you have to let him go. Like immediately.” I was so excited to be getting somewhere on my dad’s case, I didn’t want to waste another moment.
“He won’t find out. Don’t worry about me.”
“I like him. He’s … a good man.”
“Thanks, Ubie. I like him, too.”
“Oh!” I almost forgot. “I’m sure he already knows it, but make sure Howard has my phone number. I’m expecting a call.”
“Do I need to stay on him?” he asked.
“I don’t think so. Once you get that photo and anything else he has on Dad, you need to come have sex with your wife.”
“Charley,” he said, and I could almost feel his cheeks heat up.
“I’m telling you, she’s out here with three—no, four if you count Quentin, which why wouldn’t you?—of the sexiest men on the planet. Just sayin’.”
“I’ll be there in an hour.”
“It takes an hour to get here and you still have to get that photo.”
“That’s what sirens and flashing lights are for.”
10
PEOPLE WILL STOP ASKING QUESTIONS
—T-SHIRT
I decided to work on the door to the locked closet again while I waited for Vatican Boy’s phone call. He’d better come through, or I was totally marking him. Not with anything bad. I’d give him a designation like head toilet bowl cleaner at the Pit, Albuquerque’s sports complex. Man, that would suck. Though I was pretty sure the designation thing didn’t exactly work that way, it was a thought.
I walked to the laundry room, this time with a flashlight, and studied the door from top to bottom. How was it even locked? There was no doorknob, no latch. And what would be the purpose of it locking from the inside? Then the occupant couldn’t get out.
I gasped. That was it. Maybe someone was locked inside and they’d suffocated or starved to death. Maybe it was the priest. Maybe that was how he’d vanished.
This was getting exciting. I lowered myself onto all fours and shone the light under the door, hoping to catch a glimpse inside. Nothing. It was sealed tight.
Beep decided to practice the splits while I was down there. I crawled to the washing machine for leverage. Getting up was not so easy as it had once been. But since I was already in the vicinity, I decided to do a load of laundry.
Denise’s voice scared the crap out of me. I startled when she said, “I was going to do that. I’m washing all the baby stuff and getting it ready.”
“Wow, you don’t give up, do you?”
“I have no intention of losing you.”
Gemma was right. I felt Denise’s loneliness cut through to my marrow. But whose freaking fault was that?
“Is Gemma with you?”
“No, I drove. Your friend Lando Calrissian gave me a room. It has a cot.”
“Lando?”
“Osh. His name is Osh. Lando is—”
“I know who Lando is.”
“Oh. Well—”
“Are you taking your vitamins?”
“Yup.”
She nodded. “Have you had cramping? Any spotting?”
“Nope.” When she only nodded again, I said, “Okay, then. I’m going to go … do stuff. Other stuff. Somewhere else.”
I couldn’t miss the relief she felt when I didn’t throw her out. I was not forgiving her. I refused. But she could do my laundry if she wanted. And, maybe, help with Beep when she arrived. All babies need a grandmother.
“You should get some rest,” she said.
“I’m waiting on a phone call about a case. But the minute I get it—”