Personal Demon

HOPE: GONE

When I finished, I said, “I know I’m probably making too big a deal out of it.”

“You’re not. Benicio put you in a difficult situation, with no guidelines for what to do should trouble arise, probably because he didn’t expect any.”

“It’s a sham, isn’t it?” I said, walking to the window and looking out. “The job, I mean. Yes, there is grumbling in the gang, but that was only an excuse to call me in. To put me through my paces, see what I can do.”

“And give you a taste for what you could be doing.”

I balled up my hands, fighting to keep from raising them to my mouth. Chewed nails wouldn’t become Faith Edmonds. It was a habit I’d finally broken six months ago, but had never been so tempted to restart as I’d been in this past month.

Tricked by the Cortez Cabal again. This wasn’t just about testing me; it was about tempting me.

I wanted to say, “Maybe that’s his plan, but he’s not succeeding.” A lie. Karl had seen it in my face last night. Drunk on chaos, chugging it back and paying for it in the morning. As with booze, though, if I kept at it, my tolerance level would rise and the guilt hangovers would disappear. I’d end up in the place I fought so hard to stay out of.

“So your advice?” I asked carefully.

“Don’t call. If he complains later, it was my decision. You won’t like suggesting I have the final say, but as progressive as Benicio is, he’s old enough that he won’t bat an eye at the implication that you’d defer to someone older and, yes, male.”

I managed a snort. A smile touched Karl’s eyes, though it didn’t reach his mouth.

He continued. “Proceed with the break-in as planned. Later, we’ll inform Benicio of the findings. If, however, you discover nothing, and they plan to interrogate this employee, notify me, discreetly, and I’ll call Benicio.”

“I can text you with the name and address.”

He paused.

“Text messaging,” I said. “On your cell phone.”

“Right. Yes. Of course.”

I tried not to smile. As technologically savvy as Karl was, I’d bet he’d never once used the text message option. For him, the phone was a one-way tool, to make hotel reservations or call a source. And his number always appeared as blocked.

I continued. “If you do contact Benicio, you should ring Lucas too, as a heads-up. He asked to be kept in the loop in case anything turns ugly.”

“Agreed. So-”

My gang-supplied cell phone rang.

“Sorry,” I said as I retrieved it from the kitchen. “It’s probably Jaz.”

“Jaz?” He said it as if it was a foreign word.

“Jasper. The-”

“Boy.”

“He wanted to hook up-”

“I’m sure he did.”

I gave him a look. “I don’t mean-” Well, actually, that was why Jaz wanted to get together. I answered the phone.

“Hey.”

“Faith?” It was Guy. “Is Jaz there?”

“Uh, no. I haven’t seen him since he and Sonny took off on that errand. Hasn’t he come back yet?”

“He did. About an hour ago. They were heading to their place to get ready for tonight. I called to ask them to swing by early, but I’m not getting an answer.”

“Ah, well, Jaz…dropped his phone earlier…”

“I called him after you left, and it was working fine. Sonny isn’t answering either. I’m concerned. Jaz can be high strung, and I know he wasn’t happy at being left out tonight, but to ignore my calls…”

“Even if he did, Sonny wouldn’t.”

“I’ll check with the others, then maybe head to their place.” He hesitated. “If I do, I could use a second pair of eyes, if you’re free.”

My chest constricted. If Guy wanted “a second pair of eyes” he’d pick one of the others. Asking me meant he wanted a service the others couldn’t provide: chaos detection.

He thought something had happened to Jaz and Sonny.

“Sure,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “Give me a call and I’ll be there.”

I disconnected and slumped into a chair. Karl didn’t ask what had happened-he wasn’t one to avoid eavesdropping or pretend he had.

“Maybe they’re just out of the cell-service area,” I said. In Miami. Right. “Or they could be someplace that’s blocked reception-a restaurant maybe. Yes, that’s probably it. Guy can be a little paranoid.”

“Not a bad trait in a leader, particularly when it comes to the safety of his subordinates.”

My phone rang again. Guy calling back. He’d contacted Bianca, then Rodriguez-who was with Tony and Max. None of them had seen or heard from Jaz or Sonny since the meeting. Guy gave me an address. I said I’d be there in twenty minutes.

JAZ AND SONNY’S place was what I’d expected: a well-kept walkup in a neighborhood that straddled the line between dubious and dangerous. They could afford better, but this was decent enough, and they probably didn’t spend much time here.

People who’ve gone through rough times financially seem to have two responses when their fortunes change. Some spend the money as fast as they can, treating themselves to everything they missed. Others are careful, determined to have some left over if the flow ebbs. At first glance, you’d peg Jaz and Sonny as type one. But they weren’t as careless as they seemed, especially Sonny.

Security was like the building itself-decent, but nothing special. Guy broke into the apartment effortlessly. As we stepped in, I braced for the worst. While I’d convinced myself they were just out of phone contact, I kept thinking back to their encounter with the Cabal goons. Those guys hadn’t targeted Jaz and Sonny at random. They weren’t only the newest gang members-they were also the least supernaturally powerful. And let’s face it, one look at them and they were clearly guys who liked to resolve their disputes over beers, not broken heads.

So I braced myself to see a ransacked apartment, stepped into the living room and let out a sigh of relief. I wouldn’t call the place tidy, but there was no sign of a break-in or a struggle. A basket of dirty laundry waited to be taken to the cleaners. Sonny had tossed his jacket on the sofa. Sections of the Miami Sun were spread about, left wherever they’d been read. Breakfast dishes were stacked in the sink. It looked like my apartment when I was busy and didn’t expect visitors.

I removed my shoes-a lesson from my mother embedded deep enough to be instinct-then headed for the tiny kitchenette. I learned only that someone liked Cheerios and someone preferred Froot Loops, and I could probably guess who was who. With a smile, I moved toward the bedroom. As I entered the hall, I stepped on a wet patch of carpet.

I turned toward the open bathroom door. The light was on, and a towel on the floor. I’ve been known to drop and leave towels, my mother’s lessons being less concerned with housekeeping than etiquette. But there was water on the floor, trailing into the hall, suggesting whoever got out of the shower hadn’t toweled off.

I heard the steady trickle of water, the shower dripping fast. Clothing was draped over the closed toilet-Jaz’s from earlier. I picked up the towel. Dry and haphazardly folded. Unused. Someone jumping out of the shower, leaving the bathroom dripping wet and-

And what?

I closed my eyes and concentrated. No visions popped up. As I opened my eyes, I looked at the counter, and saw Jaz’s wallet, with his keys, cell phone and a scattering of coins. Emptying his pockets before he took off his pants.

I opened up the wallet. Jaz’s driver’s license, a few frequent customer cards, three twenties, a ten and two fives.

Where would Jaz go in such a hurry, without his cell phone, keys and wallet?

I fought the rising panic. This was Jaz-impetuous Jaz. Sonny could have called him, he hopped from the shower, talked to Sonny, said “dry enough,” dressed and went out for a bite to eat, trusting Sonny to have a phone and wallet.

“Faith?”

Guy walked into the bathroom, holding a cell phone and a set of keys. “I found these under Sonny’s jacket.”

I stared at the keys. “But the front door was locked, right?”

“It was.”

We both headed for the patio door. It had looked closed, but now we could see that it wasn’t shut far enough to lock, as if someone had haphazardly pulled it shut behind him.

I looked outside. The sun had been down for over an hour now. Risky for a balcony break-in, but not impossible.

I glanced at Guy. “The money. Their share from last night-”

“After last time, they left it in the safe. They each took a couple hundred.”

Jaz had eighty dollars in his abandoned wallet, which meant-after lunch and cab rides-nothing was missing. Had someone broken in looking for more money? But who would know we’d pulled the job? I hadn’t told Benicio. A mole in the gang…besides me? Not impossible. But why not wait until the guys were gone on tonight’s break-in? Unless the robbery was less important than the message.

And that message was…?

I looked around the empty apartment and tried to rein in my galloping heart. No visions plus no vibes equals no chaos. I calmed myself with this mantra and set about helping Guy search.

Despite outward appearances, the place had been ransacked. The intruders had been careful to stuff things back in the drawers and close them, but it only took one glance inside to know someone had been hunting for something. The money? Maybe.

When we finished, I did a more thorough chaos reading. I did pick up snatches of visions, but when they came clear, I realized they were old images, from other tenants-a child being beaten, a date being raped. Images that would sneak back from my subconscious to torment me later, the thrill of chaos set against a backdrop of horror, a setting for sleepless, soul-searching nights.

For now, I had to concentrate on Jaz and Sonny, and none of my visions featured them.

“Maybe it’s not chaotic enough for me to pick up,” I said. “Maybe there’s a…logical explanation.”

We both fell silent, knowing how unlikely that was.

“The break-in is off, obviously,” Guy said finally. “So you have a free night. I’ll go back to the club, in case they show up.”

“Can I help?”

“Go home and try to relax. With any luck, Jaz will call you. If not, we’ll come back tomorrow, see if you can pick up any traces once you get some distance.”