Retribution

CHAPTER 59

I’M UP EARLY THE NEXT MORNING. I SHOWER AND dress, eschewing my usual jeans and T-shirt and choosing instead black slacks and a cotton blouse under a black blazer.

For the funeral.

Sophie is asleep in the guest room. She must have come back upstairs sometime during the night.

I make a quick run down to Mission Café. I order eggs Benedict and a fruit cup and a couple of cinnamon rolls and have it all packaged to go. I never keep food in the house—no need—but I know Sophie had nothing to eat yesterday. If she’s hungry this morning, I want to have something ready for her.

Back at home, I place the eggs in a covered dish in a warm oven along with the cinnamon rolls and start the coffeepot.

Lance calls as I’m pouring my first cup. The sound of his voice warms me. He’ll be on the first flight in the morning and asks if I want to pick him up.

He’s coming home early. It’s an unexpected gift. I’m so grateful I can barely contain my excitement. I jot down the time and flight number.

Sophie appears in the kitchen just as I’m hanging up.

Deveraux makes the first comment. Boyfriend coming home?

His tone is smug. Obviously he listened in to my conversation with Lance on his way downstairs. It ’s aggravating enough to make me want to snap back at him. But Sophie hasn’t said anything, and I’m more concerned about her than irritated at Deveraux and his party tricks.

I point her to a place at the kitchen table. She drops into the chair, still without a word. I don’t want to push. I busy myself setting out the food and utensils.

She watches me with dull eyes. She does pick up the fork, finally, but instead of eating, moves the food around her plate in small, unenthusiastic circles. After a minute, she pushes the plate away. “I guess I’m not very hungry.”

I offer her a cup of coffee. She shakes her head. “You don’t have tea, do you?”

Regretfully, I shake my head. “No. Sorry. I could run to the store, though.”

She releases a sigh. “No. Don’t bother. Water?”

I get a bottle from the refrigerator and hand it to her. She takes a tiny sip. “Thanks.”

We lapse into silence. I don’t want to bring up the subject, but there are still questions that have to be answered. Culebra and Frey are no longer in danger, but the women who were victimized by Burke and her miracle cream are.

“Sophie, what is going to happen to the women who used your cream? Will they get well on their own? Do the police need to track them down?”

She lifts her chin. “If they were given a strong enough formula, they’ll go through a terrible withdrawal. They may even have the impulse to drink blood, so the police should be aware. With or without help, the women will revert back to their former selves within a month or so of their last application. If all of the cream was destroyed in the fire, there should be nothing more to worry about.”

There’s a hint of antagonism is her voice. Dark anger that I acted precipitously in going after her sister. She thinks the fire ended the threat.

But I know there are truckloads of the stuff out there somewhere. I saw them. Did Williams give the information to the police? So much has happened in the last few days, I don’t know.

May as well broach the second subject. “Have you changed your mind about helping the—” I fumble for the right words. My first choice, the vampires your sister created, tortured and bled, seems too strong right now. She’s grieving the sister, not the monster.

“The girls you told me about last night?”

Saved. “Yes.”

“Of course I want to help them. Why would you think I’d changed my mind about that?” She pushes her chair back. “If you can give me a change of clothes, I’d like to get going.”

I stand up with her and follow her up the stairs. She wants to get away from me as quickly as she can.

I suppose I can’t blame her.

I give Sophie a pair of jeans and a sweater, a hairbrush and a toothbrush. She showers and is ready to go to Rose’s in half an hour.

The ride to Rose’s is quiet. Even Deveraux has lapsed into silence. Rose is thrilled when she meets Sophie and hears her plan. The girls, who think Sophie is their own age, go along happily, especially when Sophie tells them about the mansion that will be their home and how beautiful Denver is. One call to Jeff, and he says he’ll have the jet waiting for them at the airport.

THE GIRLS HURRY ON BOARD THE JET, PROTECTED BY billowing gowns that cover them from neck to ankle and wide-brimmed hats. They chatter their good-byes to me as they go, excited to begin a new life, hopeful in a way most of them have never been before.

Sophie stands beside me on the tarmac after they are safely inside.

“I’ll keep you informed about the girls,” she says. “They’ll be fine with us. They’ll be protected.”

I wish I could think of something to say to close the chasm between us. I don ’t regret killing Burke. I’d do it again. I regret not being able to ease Sophie’s pain.

She’ll come around. For the first time, Deveraux reaches out.

No. She won’t.

I lost a brother. I know. Nothing eases that pain.