Nightingale Page 4

  Now what? Go back and grovel to Eric?

  As the sidewalk under my feet became a blur from the tears clouding my eyes, I berated myself out loud. “Stupid!”

  “Yes, it is stupid to be wandering around here after dark, not watching where you’re going.”

  A squeal escaped my lips as I ran into the body blocking my path. My knee came up in reflex, finding its target, and I was thrust away from a male who had doubled-over.

  “For fuck’s sake, Al, it’s me,” he wheezed, hands cradling his man bits.

  “Jeff? You idiot, you scared me half to death!”

  “I think you’ve done more damage to me,” he moaned.

  “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

  “Not Jesus, Jeff. But thanks for the promotion.”

  I blew out a long breath of relief. He couldn’t be hurt too badly if he could crack jokes. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Thought I’d come and give you moral support.”

  For a moment, I was touched, until another thought occurred to me. “Wait. You just wanted to check the place out, didn’t you?”

  “Guilty.” He laughed and since his groin had already met my knee, I introduced his ribs to my elbow.

  “But seriously, though,” he said, scrambling back, “I really did want to make sure you arrived and got home safely. I know that old beater of yours could give up the ghost at any minute.”

  Darn it. Why did he always have to soften my heart like that? Jeff could be a real pain in the patooty, but he was a true friend. “Where did you park?” I asked.

  “Not far from you. I saw the Deadly Dodge by the alley and figured I’d better stick close. Not the best place to be after dark, you know.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “I noticed. My balls are not thanking you. And neither will Jose when I’m too sore to tango.”

  My conscience stung. “I’m sorry. It was a knee-jerk reaction.”

  He groaned.

  I grinned. “No pun intended.”

  He laughed and slung an arm over my shoulder. “Oh, well. Come along and tell Uncle Jeffie all about what happened.”

  “Uncle Jeffie?”

  He nodded, smug. “Source of consolation and dispenser of wisdom.”

  “I’m three months older than you.”

  “But I’m smarter.”

  “In your dreams, busboy.”

  He chuckled, and I leaned in closer to him, grateful for the support even if I couldn’t tell him the truth.

  Six

  If yesterday had been hard, today would be even worse.

  The call I’d received while completing the Midnight Ink application had been from Brenda Myers. She’d asked me to babysit tonight so she and her husband Greg could have a date night. It was one of those moments I usually lived for even though I knew it was risky. Their three-year-old daughter Mia’s smile was one of the few things that kept me going on bad days, and layered a healing balm over all that I’d lost, and all that I’d never had.

  But I knew I couldn’t see them anymore. I was going to have to make up some excuse for why I couldn’t babysit. Maybe I could ask Sara if she’d be willing to fill in for me tonight. By the time that was over, perhaps I’d have figured out whether I should cut and run immediately, or whether the benefits outweighed the risks if I stayed and took the new jobs.

  Laurent’s out-of-the-blue question nearly sent me packing last night. What did he mean by that? Did he know something? Was he psychic or psychotic?

  My stomach heaved. None of the possibilities were good. And I couldn’t blow off psychic as an impossibility since I knew for a fact it was possible. I’d had plenty of flashes of foresight and intuition myself, as had Sara, from time to time. It’s why I also couldn’t ignore the nightmare I’d had after Jeff left and I’d finally fallen asleep in the early morning hours.

  Blood on my hands, fire falling from the sky…. Something bad was coming, I could feel it.

  As much as it broke my heart, I had to cancel my plans with the Myers.

  Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. Sara wasn’t available and Brenda begged. Even put Mia on the phone to say she wanted to see me, which was a dirty move.

  Naturally, a little after seven that evening, I stood facing the brass knocker on their shiny red front door. Twenty-plus minutes later, I was snuggled on a couch with the sweetest, cuddliest little being on the planet, having already been conned into a simultaneous cartoon/storytime marathon.

  “Again!” she yelled, after I’d finished reading about a big red dog for the second time. I had to admire her tenacity. As well as her ability to multi-task. I may have been prejudiced, but her ability to keep track of what was happening on the television as well as in the book we were reading, struck me as impressive. Especially since I was easily distracted, myself.

  The sense of unease I’d had all evening was a distraction I couldn’t shake. Anxiety made me hug Mia so tightly she squirmed. Feeling guilty, I kissed the top of her head, inhaling the sweet baby smell that clung to her. She’d had her bath by the time I got there and was rocking the footie pajamas. I could have held onto her forever.

  Alas, she had other plans. “Too hard,” she complained, escaping my lap.

  “Sorry, Charlie,” I said.

  “I’m not Charlie, I’m Mia!”

  I tweaked a toe covered in fuzzy pink fabric and received a dimpled smile in return. “Yes, you are Mia!”

  Mia. Mine.

  The ringtone of my phone set her dancing, and I laughed as I reached to see who was calling.

  Luke.

  I put the phone down. “Let’s go get a glass of water. Are you thirsty? I’m thirsty.”

  Before I’d even finished rising from the sofa, she’d grabbed my phone and answered. “Hello? This is Mia, who are you?”

  When I tried to take the phone, she ran off in that incredibly fast way toddlers can do.

  I endured several minutes of listening to her end of the conversation, which included, to my horror, her giving him her address before I finally got the phone.

  It was difficult to hide my fury. “What was that about?”

  “Just making conversation with your little friend. She was great.”

  “How dare you ask a child where we are?”

  “I didn’t. She asked me where I was then volunteered the information. I would like to see you again, but I’m not a creeper. Geez.”

  Great. Add embarrassment to my anger. Plus guilt from the two big blue eyes gazing up at me in surprise.

  “Why you mad, Allie-cat?”

  “I’m not mad, honey, but you shouldn’t give your address to strangers.”

  Her little face fell, and I knelt to hug her. “I’ve got to go,” I said into the phone.

  “Bye, Luke!” Mia yelled over me and I heard him chuckle.

  “At least give her a kiss goodnight for me.” The smile was evident in his voice.

  He must like kids.

  “Bye.” I firmly pressed “End” and tried to ignore the twinge of sadness that hit me while I did.

  With Luke, I only said goodbye to possibility. With Mia, I would be saying goodbye to my heart and soul.

  When bedtime came, I let her have as many stories, drinks of water, and trips to the bathroom as she wanted. It was our last night together for the unforeseeable future; it had to be the best. I sat at her bedside and watched her sleep until her parents came home a little after eleven. After kissing her one last time, I walked to the front door like a condemned prisoner on his way to the electric chair. The unknown waited beyond that threshold and it wouldn’t be pleasant.

  But there was no turning back.

  Three hours later, after a stop for gas, food, and hitting the ATM to withdraw all my cash, I finished packing my meager belongings. I’d been traveling lightly for almost four years. Pup tent, deflated mattress, portable air pump and batteries, towels, sleeping bag, a few necessary papers and books, and my weeks’ worth of clothing and toi
letries stuffed into a duffle bag, and I was on my way. I’d become an expert at fitting my life into the trunk of a car. And when there was no car, into a backpack. When necessary, I picked up what I needed wherever I landed. The “free” section of Craig’s List was my friend.

  However, I knew I might have to spend some of my precious cash on another small tent since mine was falling apart. Finding somewhere to live could take a while, and campgrounds were good places to lie low. Remote, wooded areas were even better. Cemeteries were also surprisingly safe places to sleep for a woman traveling alone, if you could get past the freak factor. Most people are afraid to go into graveyards after dark, so I usually crashed there without concern.

  Only once or twice did think I saw a ghost.

  I was headed toward the door when it was nearly broken down by someone pounding on the outside. I jumped back, my bag hitting the old wooden floor with a thump.

  A man’s voice boomed from the other side. “Allison Baker, open the door.”

  My heart felt as if it had relocated to my throat. Who was out there? Panicked, I gauged my chances of jumping from the second story.

  “Open this door right now and give me my money before they cart you away,” came Mrs. McClure’s screech.

  That’s what this was about? I took a deeper breath. Had she hired some thugs to scare me?

  “Ma’am, step aside, please.” A different female voice.

  I tiptoed to the door and peered out the tiny hole made for that purpose.

  Oh, shit. The police. Could she really have called them for this? And didn’t the CPD have better perps to catch on a Saturday night? Or Sunday morning. Whatever.

  I gulped and cracked opened the door. I hated to surrender the little cash I had, but didn’t think I have a choice.

  They busted in the rest of the way, nearly knocking me over in the process. In a glance, they took in the spare, single room. The uniformed female picked up the duffle bag.

  “Going somewhere?”

  “Hah! I knew you were going to try to skip out!” Mrs. McClure shook her bony finger at me.

  The male officer put a hand on her shoulder. “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to please wait in the hall.”

  “What about my money?”

  “Please wait in the hall,” he repeated, guiding her toward the hallway.

  As he closed the door, his partner grabbed my arms and twisted them behind me. “Allison Baker, you’re under arrest for suspicion of murder.”

  Seven

  I shivered against a hard bench, ignoring the women around me. My mind refused to process what happened.

  Greg and Brenda were dead.

  My blood and fingerprints were on the murder weapon.

  Mia was missing.

  No, no, no, no, no! I crossed my arms tightly around my midriff, my fingers digging into my rib cage. It couldn’t be possible.

  Pouring blood, raining fire.

  The disturbing dreams and sense of dread washed over me. I shook my head in denial. For the past hour, I’d sat like this after having been processed quickly through an unforgiving system.

  Too quickly.

  My mind started to work independently of my state of shock. Only a couple of hours had passed between the time I’d left the Myers’ house and when the police arrived at my door. How had they found my prints? How did they know it was my blood? As far as I knew, I shouldn’t be any databases anywhere, unless….

  Oh, God.

  I jumped up. “Hey! Where’s my one phone call?” I’d been so shaken I hadn’t even thought of it. I had to get out of there.

  I wondered if I was too late. If they were already here or on their way.

  I banged on walls, kicked out, and made as much noise as possible, pissing off the other occupants and earning a sharp kick in the ankle, but I didn’t care. I’d clearly been set up, and I had a horrible idea of who’d done it.

  They’d taken my baby.

  “I want an attorney! I need my phone,” I yelled, wondering if I would even make it out of there alive.

  A few minutes later, I was rewarded with an officer jerking me out of the holding cell. She frog-marched me down a hallway to another room. “Your attorney is already here,” she said, opening the door.

  I stopped in my tracks, afraid to see who might be in that room. She shoved me in the rest of the way.

  A blond man in a dark suit stood and turned slowly.

  “You?” I gasped.

  Luke Terran nodded at the officer. “I’ll take it from here.”

  When she left, he pointed to a chair across from his. “Have a seat Allison.”

  “What… how…?” I didn’t know where to start.

  He smiled and, unlike those pretty smiles that warmed me at the restaurant, this one sent ice trailing over my spine.

  My feet rooted to the floor. “Why are you here?”

  “Your parents sent me.”

  The room swam. It took a couple of gasps before my lungs functioned enough for me to speak. “You’ve been working for them all along,” I accused.

  Oh, God.

  “Where is Mia?” I yelled.

  “I told you to sit down. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

  I flew at him, ready to rip off his face with my bare hands. “Tell me where she is!”

  The door to the room banged open. Within seconds, I was cuffed and slammed into the seat. The second officer appeared puzzled by the exchange.

  I turned to her, hoping she might be reasonable. “Please, please, this isn’t right. I need another lawyer. He’s part of the ones who did this.”

  Luke—if that was even his name—sighed. “I’m sorry. She’s probably off her medication.” He reached into a briefcase and pulled out a sheath of papers that he showed her. “You can see here that Ms. Baker has been committed to mental institutions before for paranoia and violent behavior. She suffers from schizophrenic delusions that can make her a danger to herself and others.”

  “That’s a lie!”

  The second officer’s lips tightened. She nodded at him and left the room without looking at me.

  “You son-of-a-bitch,” I hissed. “What are they paying you?”

  “Ms. Baker. I can’t help you if don’t cooperate.”

  “Where’s Mia?” I screamed, kicking out and causing the chair to scrape against floor.

  Sighing, he took out his phone made a call. “We’ll need to get her medicated before she harms anyone else. Her parents will be here shortly.”

  I screamed until my throat ached, but less than an hour later, I was strapped to bed, an IV dripping into my restrained arm as I went under.

  When I opened my eyes, a tall, dark-haired male stood nearby, talking softly with a doctor. He seemed familiar but my brain refused to cooperate. My head felt as if I’d been on the world’s greatest tilt-a-whirl then stuffed with cotton. All the while underwater. I closed my eyes again, unable to handle the spinning room. My stomach lurched when a softly accented voice spoke above me.

  “You’re a very lucky woman today, Allison Baker.”

  * * * * *

  I was aware of movement, of confinement. My arms were bound tightly to my body and my body to something that moved quickly. My head still spun and my mouth was an arid wasteland, but it was nothing to the overwhelming sense of dread that shot acid into my stomach.

  Where was I? Had my so-called parents taken me out of the jail or hospital or wherever it was that I’d last been confined? I was afraid to open my eyes and find out, but I had to know.

  I cracked them open a fraction.

  “She’s coming to!”

  My eyes flew open. “Sara?” I croaked.

  Bending down, she nearly toppled onto the floor of the van we were in. Caleb pulled her back. “Easy, now. We can’t have you hurt, too,” he said. Sara smiled at him before returning her attention to me.

  She grabbed my hand. “Are you all right? Thank God, Laurent got you out of there in time.”

&
nbsp; “Laurent?” I struggled against the ties binding me to the gurney. By then it was obvious we were in an ambulance.

  “That’s right,” she said. “He’d heard on the police scanner that you’d been taken into custody. Through his contacts at the police department, he realized something wasn’t right. He used a few tricks to get you released. Oh, and you’re his daughter now, by the way.”

  She laughed like that was funny.

  I closed my eyes. “Stop. Laurent. As in Jean-Marc Laurent from Nightingales?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And you know him?”

  I opened my eyes again when she got quiet. She was looking at Caleb as if for reassurance. He noticed me watching and nodded.

  “We’ll explain it all in a bit. The drip on your arm should start clearing away the effects of whatever they gave you earlier. We’ll talk when you feel better.”

  It was too much. I decided to let the IV do its work, but when my head cleared, there would be hell to pay.

  Eight

  They weren’t listening. Didn’t understand that I needed to get out of there and find Mia. Find my daughter. I hadn’t planned on telling them that little detail, but it seemed they already knew. Already knew more about me than I had even known about myself.

  I faced several people in the living room of a stranger’s house. Some I knew already: Caleb and Sara. Others I’d briefly met before: Gabriel Lara, Caleb’s sister, Cassandra, and their mother, Nia; a few I’d just met since we arrived: Alejandro, who also worked at Midnight Ink; his daughter, Marti; and someone I assumed was her boyfriend, Toshio.

  “This is one of the safest houses on the city. You need to stay here while we figure things out,” Caleb said.

  “There is no safe place from those people,” I said.

  “We have several safe houses in every state and across the world for this type of crisis,” Laurent, who’d actually posed as my father at the infirmary, said. “We can help you, Allison. In ways you can’t begin to imagine yet.”