The Good, The Bad and The Undead. Ким Харрисон
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if anyone has threatened Dan?”
“No,” she said, her hand rising to her collar and her face going still. “No one.”
“How about you?” I asked. “Have you been threatened any way? Any way at all?”
“No. No of course not,” she said quickly, her eyes dropping and her pale features going even whiter. I didn’t need an amulet to know she was lying, and the silence grew uncomfortable as I gave her a moment to change her mind and tell me. But she didn’t.
“A-Are we done?” she stammered, and nodding, I adjusted my bag on my shoulder. Sara Jane headed to the door, her steps quick and stilted. Glenn and I followed her out onto the cement landing. It was too cold for bugs, but a broken spiderweb stretched by the porch light.
“Thank you for letting us look at his apartment,” I said as she checked the door with trembling fingers. “I’ll be talking with his classmates tomorrow. Perhaps one of them will know something. Whatever it is, I can help,” I said, trying to put more meaning into my voice.
“Yes. Thank you.” Her eyes went everywhere but to mine, and she had fallen into her professional office tone again. “I appreciate you coming over. I wish I could be more help.”
“Ma’am,” Glenn said in parting. Sara Jane’s heels clicked smartly on the pavement as she walked away. I followed Glenn to his car, glancing back to see Sarcophagus sitting in an upstairs window watching us.
Sara Jane’s car gave a happy chirp before she set her purse inside, got in, and drove away. I stood in the dark beside my open door and watched her taillights vanish around a corner. Glenn was facing me, standing at the driver side with his arms resting on the roof of the car. His brown eyes were featureless in the buzz of the street lamp.
“Kalamack must pay his secretaries very well for the car she has,” he said softly.
I stiffened. “I know for a fact he does,” I said hotly, not liking what he was implying. “She’s very good at her job. And she still has enough money to send home for her family to live like veritable kings compared to the rest of the farm’s employees.”
He grunted and opened his door. I got in, sighing as I fastened my belt and settled into the leather seats. I stared out the window at the dark lot, growing more depressed. Sara Jane didn’t trust me. But from her point of view, why should she?
“Taking this kind of personal, aren’t you?” Glenn asked as he started the car.
“You think because she’s a warlock she doesn’t deserve help?” I said sharply.
“Slow down. That’s not what I meant.” Glenn shot me a quick look as he backed the car into motion. He flipped the heater on full before he shifted into drive, and a strand of hair tickled my face. “I’m just saying you’re acting like you have a stake in the outcome.”
I ran a hand over my eyes. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said, sounding as if he understood. “So…” He hesitated. “What gives?”
He pulled into traffic, and in the light of a street lamp I glanced at him, wondering if I wanted to be that open with him. “I know Sara Jane,” I said slowly.
“You mean you know her type,” Glenn said.
“No. I know her.”
The FIB detective frowned. “She doesn’t know you.”
“Yeah.” I rolled the window all the way down to get rid of the smell of my perfume. I couldn’t stand it anymore. My thoughts kept returning to Ivy’s eyes, black and frightened. “That’s what makes it hard.”
The brakes made a slow squeak as we stopped at a light. Glenn’s brow was furrowed, and his beard and mustache made deep shadows on him. “Would you talk human, please?”
I gave him a quick mirthless smile. “Did your dad tell you about how we nearly brought Trent Kalamack in as a dealer and manufacture of genetic drugs?”
“Yeah. That was before I transferred to his department. He said the only witness was an I.S. runner who died in a car bombing.” The light changed, and we moved forward.
I nodded. Edden had told him the basics. “Let me tell you about Trent Kalamack,” I said as the wind pushed against my hand. “When he caught me rifling through his office looking for a way to bring him into the courts, he didn’t turn me in to the I.S., he offered me a job. Anything I wanted.” Cold, I angled the vent toward me. “He’d pay off my I.S. death threat, set me up as an independent runner, give me a small staff, everything—if I worked for him. He wanted me to run the same system I had spent my entire professional life fighting. He offered me what looked like freedom. I wanted it so badly, I might have said yes.”
Glenn was silent, wisely not saying anything. There wasn’t a cop alive who hadn’t been tempted, and I was proud that I had passed that test. “When I turned him down, his offer became a threat. I was spelled into a mink at the time, and he was going to torture me mentally and physically until I would do anything to get it to stop. If he couldn’t have me willingly, he’d be satisfied with a warped shadow eager to please him. I was helpless. Just like Sara Jane is.”
I hesitated to gather my resolve. I had never admitted that aloud before—that I had been helpless. “She thought I was a mink, but she gave me more dignity as an animal than Trent gave me as a person. I have to get her away from him. Before it’s too late. Unless we can find Dan and get him safe, she doesn’t have a chance.”
“Mr. Kalamack is just a man,” Glenn said.
“Really!” I said with a bark of sarcastic laughter. “Tell me, Mr. FIB Detective, is he human or Inderlander? His family has been quietly running a good slice of Cincinnati for two generations, and no one knows what he is. Jenks can’t tell what he smells like, and neither can the fairies. He destroys people by giving them exactly what they want—and he enjoys it.” I watched the passing buildings without seeing them.
Glenn’s continued silence pulled my eyes up. “You really think Dan’s disappearance has nothing to do with the witch hunter murders?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I resettled myself, not comfortable with having told him so much. “I only took this run to help Sara Jane and pull Trent down. You going to run tattling to your dad now?”
The lights from oncoming traffic illuminated him. He took a breath and let it out. “You do anything in your little vendetta to jeopardize me proving Dr. Anders is the murderer, and I’ll tie you to a bonfire in Fountain Square,” he said softly in threat. “You will go to the university tomorrow, and you will tell me everything you learn.” His shoulders eased. “Just be careful.”
I eyed him, the passing lights illuminating him in flashes that seemed to mirror my uncertainty. It sounded as if he understood. Imagine that. “Fair enough,” I said, settling back. My head turned as we turned left instead of right. I glanced at him with a feeling of déjà vu. “Where are we going? My office is the other way.”
“Pizza Piscary’s,” he said. “There’s no reason to wait until tomorrow.”
I eyed him, not wanting to admit I’d promised Ivy I wouldn’t go out there without her. “Piscary’s doesn’t open until midnight,” I lied. “They cater to Inderlanders. I mean, how often does a human order a pizza?” Glenn’s face went still in understanding, and I picked at my nail polish. “It will be at least two before they slow down enough to be able to talk to us.”
“That’s two in the morning, right?” he asked.
Well, duh, I thought. That was when most Inderlanders were hitting their stride, especially the dead ones. “Why don’t you go home, sleep in, and we’ll all go out tomorrow?”
He shook his head. “You’ll go tonight without me.”
A puff of affront escaped me. “I don’t work like that, Glenn. Besides, if I do,