L.L. Foster - The Acceptance

Ann smiled, encouraging him with her silence.

“I was jealous.” Feeling raw, Luther laughed at himself. “That’s pretty fucked up, huh?”

“You know what I think?”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to. “What?”

“I think Gaby is incapable of causing such carnage, but she knows a whole lot more than she’s telling you. And regardless of our personal feelings on it, we’re obligated to explore every possibility.”

Luther pulled up to the curb in front of Mort’s apartment building. “Meaning you want me to count her a suspect?”

“I don’t relish Mort’s reaction to such a thing. He’ll feel betrayed, and that’s sure to cause a rift between us.” She opened her seat belt. “But do we really have any choice?”

“No.” They were about to get out when a call came in.

Ann answered, saying, “Detective Kennedy.” After a moment of listening, she closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “I see.” She listened again, then said, “Oh God. Yeah, we’ll be right there.”

Seeing the strain on her face alerted Luther to the seriousness of the call. As soon as she disconnected, he asked, “Trouble?”

“That’s an understatement.” She looked at him with sympathy. “We have to make this visit short.”

“He got another woman?”

“No, this time it was a man. We’re being called in because he was tortured pretty badly, in a similar way to our first victim.”

Ice cut along Luther’s spine. “Where’d they find the body?”

“About two blocks from where Gaby lives.” Ann reached for his arm. “It’s worse than the female victim, though. They say this guy had his testicles and heart removed. They were left on either side of his head, so no one would miss the . . . significance.”

“Christ.” Luther looked up at the building holding Gaby. Somehow, he just knew she was involved.

“There’s more, Luther.”

Ah. Just as he figured. “There always is.”

“An anonymous source claims that Gaby fought with this guy the night before last. He said he witnessed her beating him to within an inch of his life.”

Numb, Luther looked at Ann, and asked the only thing he could think of. “Why?”

“Something about the guy abusing one of the hookers. I guess Gaby took exception to it.”

“She would.”

“The thing is . . . the witness says he overheard her threaten the guy with further punishment.”

Dread formed a cold lump in his guts. “Let me guess. She told him she’d cut off his balls?”

Ann nodded. “And carve out his heart.”

Luther scrubbed his face and laughed. “Leave it to Gaby to let her arrogance bury her neck deep in shit.”

Leaving it up to Luther, Ann asked, “What do you want to do?”

Patting Ann’s hand, he silently thanked her for the support. “Gaby’s not stupid, you know. She wouldn’t openly threaten a man, and then kill him and display him for all the world to see.”

Ann considered that. “They said the corpse is pretty mangled.”

“Yeah, and that, Gaby could do.”

At Ann’s surprise, Luther shrugged. “If the man hurt one of the prostitutes bad enough, I have no doubt Gaby would have beat him nearly to death. She’s ferocious in her protection of anyone she thinks is smaller or weaker than herself.”

“I’ve noticed that.”

Luther’s thoughts churned. “In all honesty, I believe she could even kill the guy.” He looked Ann in the eyes. “But if Gaby murdered someone, no one would ever know about it. The body would never be found.”

Refraining from judgment, Ann sat quiet.

“I guess we should go.”

“A few uniforms are holding the site for us.” She softened. “If you want to stay here to talk to Gaby, I can head over there without you—”

“Forget that.” Luther opened his door. “This is going to be quick.”

Ann hurried out of her side of the car. “And if Gaby is resistant?”

He strode toward the front door. “She won’t be. Not this time.” Luther swore it to himself, and hated what he knew he’d have to do. But damn her, she had his back against the wall.

What happened next would be on her. She’d brought this on herself.

But knowing that for truth didn’t alleviate Luther’s consuming guilt one little bit.

Edginess had been creeping in on her for days. Not the feverish diminution of strength and thought that usually accompanied a true calling, but a more frenetic sensation that left her discomforted, antsy.

Something had happened—but what?

Everyone she cared about was safe; she trusted in that. If any of them, any innocent person, was in great peril, she’d know.

Bliss droned on in great reluctance, schooling Gaby on patent costs for various deals of prostitution. Blowjobs, hand-jobs, visuals, and extra participation . . . it all sounded repulsive and far-fetched. But to catch her guy—

A disturbing premonition of dread invaded Gaby’s thoughts. Bellicose urgency brought her to her feet, but unlike her other episodes, this impending doom affected her differently.

This had to do with Luther, not evil incarnate.

“Oh fuck.”

Bliss grabbed her hand. “Gaby, wait.”

“Can’t. I need to get out of here. Now.” Gaby jogged to the front of the house and caught Mort just as he started to unlock the door to Ann and Luther. “Don’t.”

He turned to her in surprise. “It’s okay. It’s Ann—”

“I know who it is.” Pulling him away from the door, Gaby studied his face, praying for the support she desperately needed right now. “Mort, you know me, you trust me.”

His earnest gaze never faltered. “One hundred and fifty percent.”

“Well, Ann and Luther don’t.”

Sympathy darkened his features. “Gaby . . .”

“They don’t know me, and they sure as hell don’t trust me.”

Luther’s fist rattled the door. “Mort! Open up.”

After glancing at the door with nervousness, Mort put his shoulders back. “What do you need me to do?”

Thank God for friends. Gaby headed for the steps. “Stall them while I sneak out through the basement.”

“I changed that window, Gaby.” Mort turned her around. “Go out through the kitchen door and into my shop. In the backroom there’s a window you’ll fit through. It’ll put you in the alley.”

How had she gotten so lucky? “You’re my hero, Mort.” Changing routes, Gaby rushed through the house.

Bliss stayed hot on her heels. “Gaby, wait. I have to tell you something.”

“Not now.”

In an uncharacteristic display of backbone, Bliss smacked Gaby’s shoulder. “Yes. Now .”

Caught in a quandary, Gaby nodded. “Fine. Follow me and talk along the way.”

They both heard the front door open, and Luther’s voice questioning Mort. She didn’t have much time.

Holding a finger to her lips, Gaby held open the door leading into the graphic novel shop connected to Mort’s living quarters. Bliss went through, and Gaby closed it again with a quiet snick of the latch. “Come on.”

Unlike the dusty, disheveled shop of old, Mort’s establishment was now well-organized, colorful, but at this time of early evening, empty of customers. The front shades were lowered, leaving the interior in deep shadow.

Gaby made her way to the back of the shop, through a door to a private office complete with desk, phone, fax, and other business devices. “Huh. Mort’s really stepped up in the world.”

Pulling over a chair to enable her to reach the locked window, Gaby started to climb.

“Luther’s in trouble.”

Sharp fingers of dread yanked Gaby back. She spun to face Bliss. “What are you talking about?”

Bliss rubbed her temples. “I’m sorry I ain’t more clear, Gaby. But everythin’ is jumbling around in my brain.”