Faith Hunter - Black Arts

Evan, when he wasn’t helping Eli, had moved in, which felt so weird. I hadn’t even had to beg or insist. And since Evan had agreed so readily when I suggested that they stay here, I had spent that hour getting my new guests settled, the children in the bedroom directly over my own, in the twin beds they had stayed in on their one visit, and Big Evan in the room directly behind them. His bed was shoved against the wall, to make room for the workout equipment that had made its way into the house in the last few months, but he didn’t seem to mind. I wasn’t exactly Betsy Homemaker, but I put sheets on the beds and got towels from the stash in the upstairs linen closet. There were two bathrooms upstairs and Eli had cleaned his out, without being asked, now sharing one with his brother.

It had been a seamless transition from a family of three to a family of six, and when I let myself think of it, that was weirder than weird. The house felt odd and full and not quite right, as if it was shifting to accommodate the bodies, probably more people than it had housed since it had been used as a brothel back in the late eighteen hundreds and early nineteen hundreds.

But while all the situational stuff was good, by the end of that first hour we had lost Molly’s trail. The car she rented had been turned in to the rental company in Knoxville, only a few hours’ drive from Asheville, and Molly’s trail had stopped cold. The Kid had not found a single credit card purchase since, and my idea of easily tracking Molly by train, plane, or bus had proven incorrect. My former best friend had truly disappeared.

I stood over his shoulder, as Alex worked on four electronic tablets simultaneously, smelling the stink of his worry and stress, seeing it in the tightness of his shoulders, hearing it in the pounding of his fingers on the tablets. I took a calming breath and asked, “Thoughts? Ideas?”

The Kid looked around the room. Finding us alone, he said, “I have an untraceable account in India.”

I drew a slow breath. Alex was on parole for hacking into the Pentagon to get a look at his brother’s military records. Eli had put his younger brother on a short leash in computer terms, denying the Kid the opportunity for any illegalities. Well, except for a short stint in Natchez, and that had been life and death. And very, very big bucks, a hypocrisy that hadn’t been lost on any of us.

But Molly was missing. What if someone picked her up out of the parking lot? What if she had met a rogue-vamp who smelled her witch blood and came after her? Okay, that wasn’t likely, but . . . Molly was missing . Was finding her worth incurring Eli’s wrath? Getting the Kid stuck in a parole violation and tossed in jail? I thought about Molly, hurt somewhere, in an accident; off the road, in a gully. Or abused by some kid who had stopped for the lone female on the side of the road and decided to hurt her. Yes. It was worth it . “What are we talking about?” I hedged.

“Security cameras in front of the car rental center for starters, to see what happened to Molly immediately after she dropped off the car.”

“Dangers?”

“Minimal to none. Except pis— Sorry. Ticking off big brother and hiding from Big Brother.”

“Do it,” I said. “I’ll talk to your brother.”

“Better you than me,” he said, and opened a black screen with white code on it. He bent his head over this tablet, his fingers moving with nearly balletic precision.

I walked to the back of the house, to the small washroom/mudroom I had never used until I had housemates, where Eli was putting his tools onto the shelves he had built. The house was darker with the windows covered, more intimate, safer, and more claustrophobic. But my big-cat and I could live with the denlike feeling for a while. Until the smell of male got too strong.

Eli glanced up, took in my face and posture, and sighed, reading my body language, or maybe just knowing me too well to miss what would happen next. He stood and angled his body to me, dipping his nearly shaved head, his brown eyes narrowed. We stood within inches of each other, nearly the same height, so the posture looked both uncomfortable and aggressive. “How dangerous?” he growled.

“Minimal to none, he says. For now, just checking the rental car’s security cameras to see where she went when she turned in her car.”

He thought about that for a while, while I sweated and waited. “We monitor every step along the way.”

“Thank you,” I said. And dang if my eyes didn’t fill with tears. I turned away fast, but Eli caught my shoulder and pulled me back, an action I’d never have allowed anyone else to make.

“We’ll find her,” he said, one hand on my shoulder, gripping hard.

“I just . . .” Words failed me. I didn’t know what I felt. Or thought.

“She’s family,” he said. “I know what it means when family is in trouble. I cried a few tears when Alex was arrested and they wouldn’t let me in to see him for forty-eight hours.”

I blinked away my own tears and gave him a disbelieving glare.

“Okay. I busted down a wall in my rental unit. I did shed a few tears digging the splinters out of my knuckles.”

I laughed, a small hiccup of sound, which was what he intended, I’m sure.

“Look. It’s possible she really intended to come to you for help. It’s also possible that she intended that as a distraction for Evan and she went elsewhere, and then it took longer than she expected to get finished with whatever she needed to do. A lot of things are possible, not just her dead in a ravine.” He did that little lip-twitch smile at my reaction to his mind reading. “We don’t know enough yet to worry. We’ll do the best we can to find her.” Her patted my shoulder and left me in the cold mudroom, swallowing down more tears, my breath harsh.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “She could have called if she had a problem. She could have asked for my help. Instead she’s disappeared. And I don’t know how to help her.”

Eli paused in the short hallway and said over his shoulder, “Help her husband. Keep her kids safe. Let us work. That would be my best guess as to what Molly would want.”

And of course, my partner was right. I took a ragged breath and squared my shoulders. “Okay. Yeah. Okay. We can do this.”

It was nearly dark when the groceries arrived by delivery, and Eli and Evan shared kitchen duties, putting away groceries and making supper. It was peanut butter and jelly for the Trueblood children, steak and potatoes and beer for the adults, cola and pizza for the Kid. We were silent and worried, Alex sitting at one end of the table, his electronic devices in a semicircle around him, running programs I couldn’t even guess at. Several times he paused, put down his fork, and punched some keys, mumbling things that sounded like Klingon cusswords and probably were. He had learned he could cuss in my presence if I didn’t know what he was saying.

Midmeal my phone rang. I yanked it out of my jeans pocket, hoping it was Molly. The table went silent, hopeful. I grimaced and mouthed, Katie, my landlady. I answered, “Yellowrock,” and put the phone on speaker.

Troll’s gravel-crunching voice said, “Bliss and Rachael are missing. Get your ass over here.”

I frowned. I didn’t have time for missing working girls and Katie’s drama

“Go ahead,” Eli said, mind-reading again. “We got Molly covered for now.”

I said to Troll, “Language. Give me details.” I pulled out an old-fashioned spiral pad and pen.

“They went to a party last night and they didn’t come home. Missed their ride. Haven’t called. Haven’t answered their cells. Now, what part of ‘get your ass over here’ is confusing?”