Perry trotted in behind her, and the doors closed. “Should we have a safe word in case you go apeshit?”
“Good idea.” Dita thought for a second. “Purple rain.”
“Ooh. Done. Will you actually stop if I say it?”
“Probably.”
The elevator doors opened into Artemis’s domain, and Dita barreled down the moonlit path to the boulder where the Oceanids made camp. They scrambled for weapons as she approached, moving around their small fires with their eyes on her, and several drew their bows.
Dita held her hand up and knocked two down with a blast. “Artemis,” she called.
Artemis pushed the flap of her tent open and stepped out with her lips in a flat line. “Aphrodite.”
Dita stopped across from her. “You sent Echo to me with the mirror.”
Artemis’s hands were loose at her sides, and Dita made note of the dagger just visible in her boot and the other in her holster.
“I did. I believed that you might appreciate the opportunity to see him again.”
“Oh, I am so sure you did it out of the kindness of your heart.” The sarcasm cut through the air. “You cruel, twisted creature. You play with things you do not understand. How can you be so careless and vicious with the hearts of others? You have no concern for me or Josie or anyone, and now, you’ve thrown your player into the fire—and on purpose. It’s irresponsible and foolhardy and cavalier and…and…I don’t know. Fucked the fuck up.”
Everything grew darker by shades as Artemis began to glow, as if she were drawing all of the moonlight into her skin. “I do not answer to you, especially when you come into my home in the middle of the night just to fight.”
Nymphs lined up around Aphrodite with their bows drawn.
“I am not afraid of you, Artemis. I’ve been into the depths of Hades and lived through more than you can even fathom.” Dita knew her eyes were glowing as the wind whipped around her. “Tell your bitches to back off. I don’t want any of them to get hurt.”
“Do not threaten me.”
“I didn’t threaten you,” she said, her voice deadly calm. “I threatened them.”
“Purple rain.” Perry was tentative, her eyes bouncing between the goddesses.
Dita waved her off without even looking in her direction. “You have no idea how humans work, how love or emotions work. They’re like little playthings for you to destroy. Does it make you happy to cause them pain?”
Artemis’s eyes were dark as she dropped her chin, and her jaw set in a hard line. “I do not want Josie to be hurt.”
“But you’ve already hurt her, don’t you see? And now you have sent her after the lion with nothing but a slingshot. If she does get hurt, it’s nothing to you, isn’t it? Don’t you care? Do you care about anything? Have you ever cared about anything?”
“I have cared more deeply than you and the men you throw away. You speak to me of carelessness when you know nothing of devotion.” Artemis took a step toward her, seething and accusing. “How can the goddess of love be so blind to her own heart? You claim to love a hateful dog who would murder you if it meant no other could have you. Your other love is a vapid half-wit who has been dead for three thousand years. And then,” she scoffed, “there is your husband, who you have made a cuckold of for eternity. Could you truly be so empty? Really, it is only proof that you have never loved anyone but yourself.”
The words swallowed Dita whole and spit her out hot. Her face twisted as she rushed Artemis, shrieking like a Harpy.
Artemis dodged her, and the goddesses circled each other, eyes glowing and power charged in their hands.
“Purple rain! Purple rain!” Perry yelled, running into the fray after Dita.
When Perry caught her, she pulled Dita’s arms, dragging her toward the path away from camp. Dita let Perry guide her away, but her eyes never left Artemis, though her rage and wrath ebbed by a small degree.
She shook Perry off. “Don’t act like you have your shit together, Artemis. Orion is gone and by no fault of mine. Deal with your own baggage without taking it out on everyone else.” She punctuated her words with the jab of her finger. “Insult me all you want, but it’s not my problem that you can’t get over the fact that you loved and lost.”
Dita turned and stormed up the hill, and Perry gave an awkward wave and apologetic smile before she turned and trotted to catch up, leaving Artemis standing among her Oceanids. The nymphs lowered their bows and turned to stare at her.
Artemis cleared her throat and held her chin high. “Back to work, and retire early, for we hunt at dawn.”
No one moved.
“That is an order,” she snapped.
And the Oceanids dispersed with whispers and looks.
Her cheeks were hot as she blew back into her tent, closing the flap with a snap. She dropped onto her bed, cradling her head in shaky hands, and there in the dark, she found truth in every word Aphrodite had spoken.
Day 8
THE LATE MORNING SUN cut through the chill as Jon walked up the sidewalk to the Gold Panda Pawnshop.
After he’d left the shooting range the day before, he’d called Hank Campbell to let him know Josie was safe and that she’d refused his help once again. They’d talked for a while. Hank believed Rhodes had been planning on leaving since he killed Anne. And, if he’d been working on setting everything up for months, he wouldn’t have made many mistakes.
Finding him wouldn’t be easy.
But that was where Jon might be able to help.
He walked under the yellow awning illustrated with a fat cartoon panda eating bamboo, and when he pushed open the door, the bell dinged, announcing his entrance.
Jimmy Li stuck his head out from the office. “Goddamn, if it isn’t Jon Landreaux,” he said with a smile.
“Jimmy, what’s up, man?”
Jon approached the counter, and they clasped hands and pulled into a hug, clapping each other on the back.
“Damn, bro. Look at you.” Jimmy shook his head and looked him over. “It’s been years, Jon. Where the hell have you been?”
Jon rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, well, the short answer is New Orleans.”
“How long have you been back?”
“Little over a month.” Jon glanced around the shop. “What’s been going on around here? You still in the business?”
Jimmy looked over his shoulder. “Man, you’re lucky my old man’s not here with you asking me about it all out in the open like it’s no big deal.”
Jon chuckled. “Old Man Li speaks no English.”
“He might not speak it, but he understands every single word.” Jimmy rested his hands on the counter. “Yeah, I’m still in the business. You need some IDs made? Security badge maybe? College ID? Gym membership?”
“No, nothing for me. I’m looking for info this time.” Jon pulled a photo of Corey Rhodes out of his pocket and pushed it across the counter. “Have you seen this guy around?”
Jimmy picked up the picture and took a hard look at it. “No. Who is he?”
“A good friend of mine’s partner was killed, and this guy did it.”
“Oh shit, man.”
“They brought him in but couldn’t charge him, and as soon as they let him out, he split town.” Jon shook his head. “This guy’s smart. He’s been killing girls for years, and the cops don’t have so much as a speeding ticket on him.”
Jimmy was stunned. “A serial killer? Whoa.”
“Yeah. I think he’s been planning on leaving for a long time. It was too clean. This guy is meticulous. If he was gonna do it right, he would have gotten papers. Ghost papers.”
“It would be the best way to disappear,” Jimmy agreed. “If you’re right, he should be easy to track down. There’s a shitload of work involved in setting someone up with a ghost ID, and it’s risky. We’ve got to find someone with the same general stats—similar age, height, and weight. It’s getting harder and harder to pull it off, too. Everything’s gone digital, but none of
these government agencies check their records against death records unless there’s a reason. Right hand doesn’t know what the left hand is doing and all that. But, now that government agencies are connecting their databases with search engines, ghosting will likely become a thing of the past.”
Jon laughed. “Did you just nerd out on me about government agencies?”
Jimmy feigned hurt. “Hey, don’t joke. Forgers could be out of a job in the next fifteen years, the old-school ones. It’s all about digital now, which I am so down with. The number one rule for all entrepreneurs is to adapt.” He tapped his temple.
“Entrepreneur, huh?” Jon smirked.
“Don’t act all high and mighty. You’re in the same boat, Mr. Private Investigator. Anyway, let me ask around and see what I can dig up. I know a lot of other entrepreneurs in forgeries, so hopefully, I can find something. I owe you big time. You’ve gotten me out of more than a couple of fixes over the years.”
“Thanks, man. The sooner, the better. Every day that passes hurts our chances of finding him.”
“I’ll do whatever I can.”
They said their goodbyes, and Jon headed for the subway.
He had Jimmy on his side and was comforted by the notion that finding Rhodes was less of a long shot than he’d initially thought. He only hoped something came of it.
Rhodes had disappeared like vapor and mist, and a rush of uncertainty shot through Jon at the thought that the man could be impossible to trace, that they might never find him.
But mostly he worried over what that would mean for Josie.
Gravel crunched under Josie’s boots as she stepped out of her car and made her way to the office of the salvage yard. She was somber and tired, weighted by futility that hung over her like a thundercloud.
She’d spent the morning at Rhodes’s workplace in an effort to sniff out anyone who might have been connected with him, but she’d walked away with a big, fat zero. His coworkers had been shocked that he was a murder suspect, said he’d seemed so normal, if not a little weird. He’d occasionally gone out for drinks with everyone but always kept a distance, never making any real friends at his workplace.
Just another dead end.
As Josie approached the office of the salvage yard, Billy walked out with a smile, wiping his hands off on a red rag.
“Hey, Josie. What can I do for you, kid?”
“Hey, Billy. I have a favor to ask.” She handed him a flyer she’d made on Rhodes with his picture, stats, and the police contact information. “Have you seen this man? He would have bought a car with cash some time in the last five months or so.”
His gray eyebrows rose, and he pulled off his cap, scratching the back of his head with his full hand as he inspected the flyer. “Any idea what he bought? Know what he might have been in the market for?”
“I was hoping you could help with that. I’m not sure where he was headed, but it’d probably only need to get him one way.”
“Hmm, I don’t know.” There was no denying that Billy thought it was a lost cause, which it probably was. “I haven’t seen him, but if you want, I can ask around.”
“That would be great. I know it’s a needle in the hay.”
“It is, but I’ll see if I can dig something up.”
“Thanks. It’s important.”
“All right, kiddo. I’ll give you a call if I hear anything.”
He gave her a pat on the shoulder, and she turned to go.
A thousand thoughts tumbled around her head as she drove home.
They pinged and popped in her brain as she trudged up her stairs.
They caught fire and burned as she sat on her couch and stared at her evidence wall—the tangible product of her work and her pain. That wall and its contents were her only connection to Rhodes. The familiarity of it gave her comfort, something she desperately sought as she grappled with the realization that there was nothing left to be done. Every lead she’d found was either a dead end or hung on help from someone else.
It was out of her hands. And her hands ached with the emptiness.
But there was another option, one she didn’t want to consider. It existed all the same.
She could call Jon.
Fresh eyes could help, an outside perspective, someone smart, someone whose mind worked the way hers did. And, if it were anyone else, she would have called in a heartbeat.
She let herself imagine it for a moment, let herself daydream about Jon sitting there with her, poring over the case, finding something she hadn’t seen, some connection she’d missed. Finding something. Anything.
What was the worst that could happen?
But she knew the answer before she even asked herself. She would let him back in; she wouldn’t be able to stop it. She would fall again, and this time, she didn’t know if she would get back up.
Josie picked up her phone and called her dad, hoping he had something to recharge her hope. Because hers was gone.
Hank answered with a, “Hey.”
“Hey, Dad.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Please tell me that you’ve got even a whiff of a lead.”
Hank sighed. “It’d be a lie. His bank and credit card accounts have all been dormant, and every lead we’ve found is a dead end. It seems that not a single person called him a friend. In fact, I think you might know him better than anyone.”
“That is so messed up,” she said.
“That also means that if you don’t know where he is…”
She ran a hand across her forehead.
“Do you have any connections you can call in?” Hank asked.
Jon’s face flashed in her mind.
“Not really. I’ve kind of been a loner lately, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Yeah, but surely there’s someone, right? You need a resource, someone fresh. I think we’re all too close, honey, and a new perspective could be the thing that makes a difference. What about Landreaux? He’s a smart kid. He could be a real asset to you.”
“I’m sorry, what?” she asked, not certain she’d heard him right.
“What do you mean, what? You need help, and he can help you. I can’t be there for you on this like you need. Maybe Landreaux will have some insight.”
“What in the bloody hell? Since when do you approve of anything having to do with Jon?”
“Since you need help and I can’t help you.”
“I’m not calling him,” she said without even considering it.
He paused for a moment. “Josie, this isn’t about you or him or what happened between you two. It’s bigger than that.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” she shot.
“I dunno, Jo. You’re not acting like you do, so I thought it warranted saying aloud.”
“Duly noted.” The words were cold and flat.
Hank sighed. “Just think about it. And call me if you need anything.”
“Same goes,” she said, trying to breathe through her anger.
They said their goodbyes, and Josie ran her hand over her mouth, feeling alone, abandoned, betrayed, even by her father, backed into a corner with the case and her options and the sum of her entire life.
As she looked over the wall of facts and photos, the clock on the wall ticked on and on, louder and louder until she couldn’t stand it anymore. So she stood and turned on music, drowning the sound and replacing it with something she could control. She turned back to her torture to try to find a way out, a way to Rhodes, knowing somewhere in her heart that there was likely none.
Hooves thundered as Eleni and Helena charged each other with lances out, trailing clouds of dust behind them. Their unicorns beneath them snorted as they rushed across the field on a track for each other. Eleni’s teeth were bared, her skin sparkling in the sun, and when lance met shield, the splintering thunk rang through the woods.
Helena flew off the back of her steed, slamming to the ground in a poof of dust.
Artemis sipped wine from under a canopy as the O
ceanids roared. Eleni threw her fist in the air, her unicorn stamping his hooves, his head as high and proud as his rider’s.
The joust had been Eleni’s idea, an attempt to cheer the camp and Artemis after the drama of the fight and the mutterings of dissent among them. One of her two goals was achieved—the Oceanids were wholly entertained—while the other had eluded Artemis completely.
Helena stumbled as the Oceanids helped her up but was otherwise unharmed. Another Oceanid ran for the free unicorn, hopping onto its back in a single motion with a whoop. She was handed Helena’s lance and shield, and the nymphs lined up at opposite ends of the track for another round.
Artemis paid little attention. Her mind was still on Aphrodite’s fit from the night before and the words that had been exchanged.
“You can’t get over the fact that you loved and lost.”
She didn’t know how to move on from Orion’s death or how to stop wishing things could be different. He had been stolen from her in a manner unfair and unjust, killed over a misunderstanding. Killed trying to save her. It was a thing that she could never forget and never forgive herself for.
He had been her one chance, and losing that had changed her, rearranged her into something harder, lonelier, angrier. Someone with less patience for things that they couldn’t control.
Like love.
Orion and Artemis lay under the stars on a tall cliff, surrounded by swaying cypress trees, shadows of black on black. A road made of stars trailed up and away from the horizon among clusters of blue and purple clouds of stardust, bright against the dark of night.
“It is so difficult to fathom immortality,” Orion said with his eyes on the constellations.
“I do not generally try to fathom it. Only live it one day at a time, one foot in front of the other.” She looked over at him where he lay next to her.
His hands were tucked behind his head, his face unreadable, illuminated by the stars. “Do you think that perhaps the reason you do not contemplate living forever is because you have not encountered loss?”