“Ah, fuck,” I said, and found myself circling in the narrow alleyway. Fullerton isn’t a big city, at least, not by big city standards. But it did have a popping downtown, and people were moving past the alley opening. Few saw me, and fewer still would see Ishmael looming over me.
I shook my hands, then ran them through my hair. Then I spun on Ishmael, and shoved him hard against the far wall. He flew back, hitting it with a physical force I wasn’t expecting. The old building veritably shook.
“What did you do to my son, goddammit? What the fuck did you do to my son?”
“I gave him the edge he will need, Sam, to exist in this life without help.”
“He has help from me—”
“No, Sam. Not even you can be with him at all times. Not like his true guardian angel.”
“This is really, really fucked up,” I said, and found myself circling the alley, shaking my hands, wanting to simultaneously smash the oversized glow stick’s head into the brick wall, but needing to hear him out, too. “So, what have you done to my son? What exactly?”
“I gave him strength, Sam.”
“But how?”
“I gave him some of me.”
I was feeling physically ill, for the first time in a long time. “Is that why your glow has...”
“Diminished? Yes, Sam. That, and for other reasons.”
I knew the other reasons, of course. I said, “So, what’s going to happen to my son?”
“He will continue to have great strength, which will only increase, but not excessively so. He will, in essence, be able to take care of himself when needed.”
“That’s all well and dandy, but strength only goes so far.”
“Your son, while not immortal, will live a long life.”
“How long?”
“That remains to be seen, but longer than most.”
“And what if he’s...” Except I couldn’t bring myself to finish the thought.
“Wounded or sick? He will heal faster than others, Sam. It will take a lot to mortally wound your son. He should be immune to most disease.”
That choked me up, and I was, for the first time, grateful to Ishmael. “Thank you,” I said.
He nodded once...and disappeared.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Three days later...
And I was still glued to my computer screen, watching the video feeds, hour after hour, day after day. Sometimes, I watched in real time, sometimes, at 2x the speed. I’d spent most of my free time in here, in front of my computer, and had I been mortal, my back would have been aching, my ass would have been hurt and my eyes would have been crossed.
I was none of these; mostly, I was just bored.
Except...except one thing that kept me coming back for more.
The light.
A soft, muted half-light, it still occasionally turned on in the middle of the night, often at different times and often for varying lengths. Where the light came from, I didn’t know. But there it was.
There was no good reason why the light would turn on and off. My guess was, it was a smaller light deeper within the cafe. Perhaps a refrigerator light. Or a freezer light.
Two days ago, I had called the Starbucks manager and asked what type of premise security system they had. She told me she wasn’t at liberty to divulge that. I almost tested whether or not I could compel her over the phone line. Instead, I called Detective Sharp and had him ask her the same question, plus a few follow-up questions. Apparently, she was at liberty to tell him. Cops get all the breaks. The Starbucks system was pretty basic. Alarm goes off if anything is broken into. No interior motion detectors. No light on timers.
Detective Sharp next wanted to know what I had found. I told him I would tell him when I knew more. He said that wasn’t good enough and started to come down on me. I told him he would be the first to know as soon as I had something concrete. He didn’t like it, but most cops didn’t like being told what to do by private investigators. I reminded him that we were on the same team. I nearly reminded him that I was kind of cute, but luckily, he changed the subject.
“We didn’t find any prints,” he said.
“You checked both vents.”
“Of course. They’re both clean.”
“She wiped them,” I said. “She had the time to clean up after herself.”
“If she was there.”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“The crime scene guys are still laughing at me,” he said.
“You are kind of funny-looking.”
“Look, Samantha Moon. I trusted you. You came with some good references. Hell, great references. Sherbet stands by you. And so does this Sanchez guy out of L.A. Still, I don’t know you for shit, and now the guys at the station are having a good laugh at me because I had them print a fucking vent under a fucking sink at a fucking Starbucks.”
“You sound annoyed.”
“Damn straight I’m annoyed. Don’t fuck with me, Sam. I’m going out on a fucking limb bringing you in on this, and giving you access—”
“She was in there, Detective. I promise.”
“When will you show me what you have?”
“Soon.”
“How soon?”
“I don’t know.”
“Jesus, are you always like this?”
“Sometimes,” I said, “and don’t call me Jesus.”
Chapter Thirty
The kids were asleep.
I had already gone for a late-night jog, sometimes running so fast that I might as well be flying low to the ground, feeling invincible and untouchable.
I took a long shower, as hot as I could make it. One thing about taking showers in the middle of the night was that there was no one waiting in line for it. So, I used up all the hot water...and loved every second of it.
Now, dressed in a robe made of human flesh—kidding, pink terrycloth—I was back in front of my computer, prepared for an all-nighter. Of course, an all-nighter for me was really nothing more than my day job, so to speak.
Now, with my hair still wet, I curled one cold foot under me and sat at my computer, ready to dig in.
I didn’t have to dig for very long.
Almost immediately, as I fast-forwarded through the fifth full day of her disappearance, after I had watched, precisely, two million people enter and exit the Starbucks in Corona, I saw something that caught my eye. And not just something.
A woman.
Exiting Starbucks.
No, not a big deal in and of itself. I had seen a million different women leave Starbucks up to this point. No, she was different. I unfurled my leg from under me and sat forward, pausing the video, capturing the woman just as she was stepping off the sidewalk that wrapped around the building.