Chapter 19
The Divination was a smallish building just off the highway. Located deep in suburb-land, the building was on the intersection of two highways. Located on a street with half a dozen chain restaurants, the nightclub would hardly have stood out if not for the luminous sign that stood slightly taller than the others. A mall wasn’t far away either. Since I’d been expecting a secluded, low-end nightclub, it surprised me somewhat when I saw just how modern it was. But then, a place like this would rarely set off anyone’s alarms, whereas a stereotypical, secluded mob-hangout would.
I pulled into the mostly empty parking lot, still fuming over my house, when I noted that the other cars in the lot tended to be black sedans with tinted windows.
Except one; a familiar gray car that stood out from the others. I parked beside it and got out of my car, squinting toward the plate. The letters ASH stood out immediately.
The part of me that still had some manner of grace stumbled. Ash was here? Was he working for Lance? Was he here under the orders of the killer?
Good. It’s about time he answers for what he’s done.
I’d seen him first at the parking lot of the gas station, when he tailed me to James’ cabin, before I’d even realized this whole thing would blow up into a gargantuan mess. While I’d suspected and assumed he’d tried to follow me since, all he could really report is my whereabouts. Unless he was a top-notch shadow, he couldn’t report my actual actions. I’d gone to James’s place, and then the dinner party, where I assumed he’d lost me. Then, I hadn’t reconnected with him until he went after Katherine.
But why would the killer send Ash after Katherine?
Katherine was hardly connected to any of this. She was seemingly ignorant concerning the magical world. Her own sister told her about a ghost, yet Katherine hadn’t believed her, so why would anyone want to target her?
I’m looking at this from the wrong angle, I told myself. Instead of focusing on what she doesn’t know, I thought about what she does know. If I found something potentially incriminating to someone, I’d find my clue.
The only thing I had going for me was that Katherine didn’t know much. She knew a ghost was summoned. She knew it killed Kelly Freidman’ boyfriend. She knew that Kelly Freidman went to the police for help.
So why would Lance send Ash to kill Katherine? And on that note, what would Katherine even tell the police? It’s not like they’d act on a ghost story. There was only one thing that makes sense in all this; Lance has no reason to go after Katherine. Which means Ash is not actually working for Lance. Or rather, he’s not working only for Lance.
More clues were around, I was sure, but I hadn’t yet caught them. I simply knew that I’d missed something relevant. What that could be, I had no idea.
The sun continued its slow climb up the horizon, converting the sky quickly into an uneasy, dull gray. Staring again at the glass door of Lance Ruben’s nightclub, my anticipation peaked. My skin tingled, and my every instinct told me that Lance was not a good guy to get involved with. The smart thing to do would have been to run away. To just pick a random state and flee. Yet I also knew that if Lance held the final pieces of this messed up puzzle, it’d all be worth it. I tried to put extra oomph in to the way I held my staff as I took my first step into the club’s entryway.
It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust from going to bright, morning sunlight to a dusky bar, but when they did, I stood before a giant wearing a suit.
“The hell you doing here,” the guard said as his stony hand clasped tightly around my collar. Even before I had the double door shut, he yanked me inside and shoved my back firmly against the closed door of the set. His impossibly tight grip had my weight partway off the ground.
I stared into his face, which looked as rough as his greeting. Short hair. Newly trimmed goatee. Built like an Ox. It took me a moment to recognize him, but I stopped wriggling immediately when I saw the face of James Freidman.
I’d last seen James in his high-rise condo, when he’d been grieving beneath a thick layer of bear-scented sweat. Yet it seems he went through the stages of depression in the wrong order. He started out depressed, but became the embodiment of anger.
“Mr. Freidman, restrain yourself,” a high-pitched, polite voice chimed from an elderly gentleman.
“This asshole killed my wife,” he growled, his hot breath on my face.
My body tensed with surprised fear, but I peered over to find Lance Ruben standing in a bar. “If he is indeed responsible for your wife’s disappearance, than I shall give you a quiet room to do with him as you please. However, I doubt Mr. Amberose would have come to me willingly were that the case. Isn’t that right, Mr. Amberose?”
Although James’ beefy grip slackened, his anger was by no means forgotten.
The Divination was clearly designed to be a dance club, but it still had a warehouse feel to it. The central dance area stretched two floors high, with a U-shaped catwalk running along either side and above the door. The room sported a deep red color scheme that wasn’t especially warm or welcoming to me. Mounted lights were all over the ceiling or mounted onto the sides of the upper balconies.
Yet all the people populated a separate sitting area with a bar to the direct right of the door. From my vantage, it seemed to be the only section that didn’t have a clear view of the stage and dance floor. Long and slender, the room housed a bar at the far end, and an aisle surrounded on either side by booths. Being pre-party time, the empty nightclub had only Lance and his men, who sat doing, well, whatever it is guys like them do in their spare time.
My back was still toward the door, I could make out Lance and his dozen or so men behind him, including the haughty features of Ash. Only about half of them had guns in hand. Ash, thankfully, had only his knife.
“That is no way to treat our guest, Mr. Freidman. Release him, please.”
James Freidman’s eyes, which never left my own, seemed to give out a final puff of anger. After one more pouty shove against the wall he let me go, but he obeyed and took a small step back.
I turned to Lance, who looked into the nearest, tall-backed booth as he flicked his fingers in a ‘shoo’ gesture. A thin, sweating man in a suit scurried out of the booth and fluttered past me, out the door.
“Welcome, Thomas, to the Divination,” Lance waved his hand with a flamboyant elegance toward the other recently vacated seat.
Behind Lance, the six gunmen sat down. The seventh, Ash, took another second to put away his knife. I could simply see the anxiety pooling behind his eyes. Attack? Or wait? I met his stare as my fingers grew tense on my staff, and could see in his eyes as much fear in him as I felt in myself.
“Come on inside!” Lance said. “Welcome. I presume you have information pertinent to keeping yourself alive?”
With my staff planted firmly in front of me, I met his eyes. “I’ve scrounged up a few things, but they’ll cost you.”
“Cost me? Oh my. I believe we already have a deal in place.”
“Yeah, about that,” I said, walking toward him. He sat in the booth nearest the bar, all the way at the end of the aisle. It was the only seat that wasn’t alongside a window. Forcing my anxiety out of consciousness, I thrust back my shoulders headed to meet him in the plush, leather seat across from him. After transferring my staff into my other hand, I sat. The butt of the staff was still on the ground as I held it carefully in place. The whole while, James followed hardly a foot behind. “Your deal doesn’t work for me. Too one sided.”
He inhaled with a dramatic pained look. “I’m sorry, Mr. Amberose, but I believe I was perfectly clear as to what I require from you, and what you will get in return.”
“Meaning I’m to find the killer, or die,” I clarified boldly.
Lance gave a hint of a smile.
“Fine,” I said as I made to get back up. “Then you’ll just have to take your chances on your own.”
James Freidman stepped haughtily in front of me the moment I
was on my feet, actually pounding one fist into his other palm.
“Sit down, Mr. Amberose,” Lance stated. “Or you will be dead before you get halfway to the door.”
Lance Ruben leaned forward, his gray eyes glinting playfully as he looked me up and down. I didn’t know much about upper-class fashion, but I wouldn’t doubt that his emerald colored, velour suit alone was perhaps as expensive as this entire establishment. His combed back, bone-white hair stayed plastered firmly in place by about a pint of product, and he tapped his fingers on the smooth wooden table.
“You know what I don’t understand, Lance?” I turned and leaned on my staff. “Why would you just come and threaten me? Not really your style, is it? Not when you can shoot me in the back and be done with it. No, instead you decided to threaten me. Find the truth or die. Kinda weird, isn’t it? Especially since you knew I had nothing to do with Emmitt Cane’s death.” I faked a show of enthusiasm on my face, adding, “Or maybe you had another motive.”
I sat down then, holding back the flinch of pain as I plopped down on my scarring ass. “It wasn’t a threat at all. It was a cry for help.”
“Very good, Mr. Amberose. Taking you on was always a risk, since I never quite knew your level of competence, but it seems you’ve passed one of my tests. Your lateness prevents me from giving you a good grade perhaps, but you passed.”
Ash shifted behind James and leaned against the side of the side of the backrests just across from me. His knife was still in his hand. The whole time, he didn’t take his eyes off me. I didn’t like the way his eyes darted to and fro faster than a child in a haunted house. Nor did I like the snarl just touching his lips.
“Well, I’ve got good news. I know who did it, or at least have enough evidence for your guys to figure it out yourself. Thing is, it cost me a lot to come by.”
“I heard,” Lance said with a wave of his hand. “That dreadful business in the Cane Ballroom. So, who was this mysterious killer?”
“I have several leads that you’ll make more sense of than me, but first, there are a few things that don’t add up. For instance, you made a deal with Emmitt a few months back. What was it?”
“That deal concerns me and the deceased. It sounds like you came here prematurely, Mr. Amberose.”
“As I said, I’ve got information that’ll lead you to the killer,” I said. “You want the killer. I want my name cleared with the Guardians. It’ll take you one phone call to get them off my back.”
“Ugh,” he groaned with a grandfatherly smile. “Phones. Always hated them. You know, I’m touched that you’ve come to me with your problems. I really am. But make no mistake. Just because you passed my first test doesn’t mean I’m your friend. Our old deal is still in place. You are on your own. Or rather, you will be on your own once you tell me what you know.”
Standing menacingly beside me, James still had one fist balled into the other. The meaning was clear. If I don’t tell him, I’ll be stuck in another industrial fridge. This time, it’ll be me they’ll torture instead of some innocent kid.
“Fine. You want the killer?” I asked, eyes locking onto Lance. With my free hand, I pointed a finger at Ash. “Ask that guy.”
I didn’t actually know exactly what I was expecting from that. What I got was total chaos.
Ash darted directly for me, the blade rushing straight for my throat. My mind reacted as quickly as any reflex, and with half a thought, I messed with the magnetic fields in my staff and his knife. The blade still bore the energy from when I enchanted it in the greenhouse, so instead of stabbing me, the switchblade made a ninety-degree turn on its way toward my face.
There’s a downside to reflexes, however. Had I put some thought into the spell, I probably wouldn’t have flung his knife directly toward Lance. Ash, with his white-knuckled grip, went along for the clumsy ride.
James reacted just as quickly. One gloved hand jerked out, clenching Ash’s wrist. As he held out the other hand it became encased with a wispy, dark mist. His fingers closed, and the knife, still in Ash’s hand, simply stopped moving. Without making actual contact to the knife, James twisted his gloved hand; the thin blade speared harmlessly downward, where it sank entirely into the solid, oak table. Only the handle remained visible.
Ash didn’t delay. In fact, he seemed to expect trouble. Rather than go for the knife, he miraculously twisted his arm out of James’ grasp. I could see the fear on his face before he turned around and sprinted for the door.
But as Ash turned his back, it sounded as though TNT exploded. The back wall, as well as two men slightly in front of Ash, became ensnared with an oval haze of blood.
That’s the thing about big guns – you’d expect the target to fly in the direction of the bullet, but that’s not always true. When you’ve got five pounds of guts flying out your front, the momentum blasts you backwards using the same mechanics as a rocket.
Fearfully, I looked back at Lance, where I saw a massive pistol in his grasp. Predictably, he aimed it at me next. And that’s how we stood for about a thousand years as I wondered what kind of afterlife I’d have.
“Well. That’s unfortunate,” Lance said, sitting up straighter to gaze down at Ash, who lay motionless on the ground. Then, keeping with the upbeat tone, he asked, “I don’t suppose you have any other leads, now that he’s dead.”
I don’t know what scared me more. The fact that Ash had just died not ten feet away from me, or the way Lance shrugged it off with nothing more than an annoyed sigh.
“Err, I–“
“Keep in mind, Mr. Amberose, that I already have one body to clean up, so another would not be much of an inconvenience.”
Tell him what he needs to know, Thomas. Then maybe, just maybe, he’ll let you go.
No! I reminded myself. Tell him everything, and he’ll just kill you. I’m not getting out of here unless he needs me alive. The realization filled me with the kind of dread that straightened my backbone.
“Does the ‘tell me or die’ trick ever get old, Lance?” Mouth said before Mind could wrestle it down. “It does from this side of the table.”
“Careful, Thomas,” Lance warned. Angry air hissed out of James’s nostrils as he stood uncomfortably close.
I looked to Lance, glanced quickly down at the bloody floor, and back to him.
“That man was tailing me.” I said, nodding down to Ash. “I presume under your orders.”
“True enough,” he said. “Gordy was always a bit impulsive, but in that case he was working under my orders.”
“Did you also condone the death of an innocent woman?”
He stared at me. “No.”
“Funny,” I said, flicking a finger toward the blade in the table. “We caught him with that knife in his hand and a determined stride toward her back.”
“Toward whose back?”
“Sorry, Lance. I tell you that and I may as well just tell you everything.”
James stared down at me, his eyes suddenly alight with a fearful wonder. “Was it Kelly?”
His face transformed at the mention of his wife. With her in mind, the gangster snarl permanently plastered on his face looked soft. Loving, even.
“No,” I said.
“Do you know where my Kelly is?” James asked, his lip quivering in anxiety.
“James, please. We’re talking.” Lance said with a dismissive wave.
I could all but see the steam charge out of James’ nose again, but the guy kept a steady face as he refolded his arms.
“Nah, I think we’re done here,” that stubborn side of me said as I stood up quickly. “I gave you someone with answers, and you killed him. My side of the deal is fulfilled.”
“And you think I’m just going to let you walk out of here?” Lance said. “Mr. Cane’s murderer is still out there. Why would I let you go?”
“Because,” I said. “Your guys aren’t turning anything up. If you want to find your killer’s identity, I’ve got to keep digging.”
Lance sat back, resting smugly against the cushion. The gun still aimed menacingly at my chest. It took all the courage I had to turn around.
“Just one more inquiry, Mr. Amberose.” Lance said, out of nowhere.
“I’m done with your questions,” I said, taking the first step toward the door.
“Where would you be had I not coerced you into working this case?”
James hulked in front of me, barricading my path. I looked over my shoulder and said, “In my house, which wouldn’t be burned down.”
“You claim to choose the path of Acedia,” he said with a skeptical stare. “Yet I suppose you also claim to be the sort of man who prides himself on his high moral stature. You know what I think, Thomas?”
I stared, biting my tongue.
“I think you would be standing right where you are now, still wrapped up in the middle of it all. Diligence is what drove you to investigate that warehouse last year, against Bree’s wishes. It is also what compelled you to face me alone, rather than get others involved. In you, I see potential, Mr. Amberose. Potential that, once unlocked, could make you one of the greatest men of our age. It is a sin to let your talents go to waste.”
I turned back to James, who didn’t budge.
“Show me your worth, Mr. Amberose. Prove your path will lead you away from acedia, and perhaps I will one day find use of you.”
Without turning, I said, “I’ll never work for you.”
“We’ll see,” he said, flicking his fingers with the hand that didn’t hold the gun toward my back. James stepped to one side.
With a deep breath, I stepped over Ash’s corpse. Then took another toward the door. My chest pounded in fear. It took considerable effort not to stumble on my way out, but with my breath held in my lungs all the while.