Page 10 of Rough Justice


  When I surfaced from the visions, I sat there a moment, assimilating.

  Then Patrick said, "And..."

  "I saw four cases. Four instances where the Cwn Annwn decided whether or not a death deserved punishment. Crime of passion? Yes. A cheating spouse doesn't justify murder. Killed in battle? No. You signed up for that. Acted under the influence? Yes. Again, you took that chance. Mental illness, after having sought help? No, you tried to prevent actions that are beyond your control."

  "Reasonable."

  "Exactly. I agree with the Cwn Annwn in every one of those cases. Which all suggest I'm missing something in my solution to Alan Nansen's death."

  I rose. "Thanks for the library access. I should get going. If Gabriel doesn't need me back at the office, I might actually surprise him by making dinner while I think this through."

  "Speaking of my son, you mentioned issues with his visits to Seanna. Shocking, really. No one could ever foresee how that would go wrong. Oh, wait. I believe I did. Note, for the record, then, please, that I objected, both to the visits and to keeping you out of the loop."

  I hesitated, my purse in hand. Then I rolled my eyes. "Yep, keeping things from me is never a good idea, which you'd think Gabriel would know by now."

  "Well, I'm glad he came clean, and since you don't seem terribly upset, I appreciate that you understood his motivation."

  "I'm trying."

  He got to his feet. "I know I was ready to let Pamela kill Seanna..."

  "Let her? Pretty sure you were facilitating it. After I asked you to stop her."

  "A misunderstanding. But I will admit now that you were right. If Gabriel had stood by and let that happen, while he might tell himself he didn't care, he would have suffered guilt that he doesn't deserve. So whatever is happening now, it's not your fault."

  "Good to know."

  "How's Rose handling Gabriel not going anymore?"

  "I haven't spoken to her yet, so I'd rather you didn't mention it."

  "Oh, I won't. And..." He lowered his voice. "Don't be angry with our Rose. If she had any idea those visits bothered Gabriel, she'd have stopped calling him. But you know how he is."

  "I know exactly how he is."

  I thanked Patrick for his help--all of it--and then left.

  Apparently, I needed to pay a visit to Rose.

  Twenty

  Gabriel

  Gabriel stepped off the elevator just as one of the Huntsmen was getting on.

  "Gw--Gabriel." The Huntsman pumped Gabriel's hand. "Good to meet you. I don't think we've been officially introduced. I'm Aeron, though around here it's Aaron." He turned to lead Gabriel into a suite of upscale offices. "Were you looking for Ioan?"

  "I was, thank you."

  Gabriel hadn't been here before--this was a part of Olivia's life that he left to Ricky. Unlike the fae--who usually lived off ill-gotten gains--the Cwn Annwn ran a business. Gwylio Consulting, a security firm.

  Aeron wore a suit nearly as expensive as Gabriel's own, as did the other men they passed, all Huntsmen, looking no different than any successful businessman one might find in the Loop. The only women were support staff--humans, all of them, with no idea that they worked for anyone who wasn't.

  Aeron waved to Ioan's assistant, walked to an office door and rapped. Then he poked his head in with, "Gabriel Walsh to see you, John."

  Ioan said something, and Aeron pushed open the door. Gabriel walked through, and as the door closed behind him, the already hushed sounds of the office disappeared. Excellent soundproofing allowing the Cwn Annwn to speak freely within their offices.

  "Gabriel," Ioan said, walking from behind his desk, hand extended.

  It took Gabriel a split second to offer his hand. No ill-will intended--he simply wasn't accustomed to such a greeting from the Cwn Annwn leader. It was a byproduct of the environment. That was how the Huntsmen had adapted and assimilated to human life. When in a business setting, one acts and reacts in a business-like way.

  They shook hands, and Ioan gestured to a chair and then offered a hot or cold beverage, which Gabriel refused.

  "I'm here on Olivia's behalf," he said as he sat.

  "I presumed as much." Ioan smiled. "I doubted you were seeking a security contract. When you say you're here on her behalf, may I hope that only means you're helping her investigate? I'm sure you aren't happy with what happened the other night..."

  "I would not come here to complain," Gabriel said, his tone cooling. "Olivia hardly needs me to fight her battles."

  Ioan frowned. "Do you see this as a battle, Gabriel? The Cwn Annwn as something Liv has to fight?"

  "I hope not."

  "We aren't. I know this first Hunt was a rough one, and I could say I'd rather she had an easy one her first time, but I'd be lying. Difficult is good. It lays all the cards on the table. Lets her see exactly what she's getting into and gives her the chance to deal with that."

  "So you're admitting you knew this Hunt had complications?"

  A moment of silence, as if the Cwn Annwn leader may have let on more than he intended.

  "That I do not appreciate," Gabriel said. "You have positioned yourself as the more honest alternative to the fae. The more forthright. The less manipulative."

  "I didn't lie to her or manipulate--"

  "You allowed her to begin a Hunt you knew she might not be able to finish...and then suffer the embarrassment of derailing it."

  "I..." Ioan rubbed his mouth. "I didn't realize it would be embarrassing for her. I saw that at the time, and I apologize. To both of you."

  Gabriel eased back. "As I said, I didn't come here to complain or berate you. I wished to update you on her progress. On what she has discovered about Keith Johnson's possible involvement."

  Ioan waved his hand. "That isn't necessary. The investigation is for Liv. To reassure her that Johnson is guilty."

  "And you know he is."

  "Yes."

  "Based on a power that has never been found to be faulty."

  Ioan met his gaze. "Yes. I can say, with absolute confidence, that we have never taken our quarry and found it to be a mistake."

  "That would be far more reassuring if you took any interest in the actual circumstances, investigated beforehand or followed up afterward to be sure."

  Ioan's cheek twitched. "I know you are a lawyer, and your job is to poke holes in my testimony, but there is a reason the Cwn Annwn do not investigate, and it isn't laziness. It isn't blind faith, nor is it fear of discovering something that might make us reconsider. It's efficiency, Gabriel, and I have a feeling you understand that concept very well. We know our target is guilty, so why would we waste time investigating? As for follow-up, we actually do some of that, to be sure no innocent party is later accused of the crime. That has happened. In that case, we help the falsely accused by providing evidence--true evidence--that sends the police in the correct direction. Never, in any of those instances, has anyone else been found guilty of a crime for which we executed another person."

  "Then I would like you to listen to the details of this case and explain Olivia's findings."

  Gabriel told Ioan about the murder, Heather's arrest, and the death of Johnson's wife, along with the evidence strongly suggesting the Nansens were responsible.

  "That..." Ioan leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowed. "That does not... That isn't correct."

  "If you have evidence to contradict Olivia's findings--"

  "I mean that it doesn't fit the criteria."

  "Which part?"

  Ioan threw up his hands. "Any of it. We may not investigate our quarry, but we often see--through visions--the details of the crime. Or we uncover those details in our postmortem. Or we simply hear about them as humans do--on the news, in passing, in conversation."

  "And this case differs from those how exactly?"

  "Not every case is clear cut. There are those where a jury would allow for extenuating circumstances... Yes, I'll be honest, we find human laws less conservative than our ow
n. There are so many"--his hands fluttered--"excuses."

  "The Cwn Annwn do not accept excuses."

  "Explanations, yes. Excuses, no. There is a difference, as I'm sure you'll recognize."

  "I'm a defense attorney. I prefer not to recognize the distinction. It's bad for business."

  Ioan let out a laugh. "I'm sure it is. But you personally recognize it. I know you do. The Cwn Annwn may set the line in a different place, but we're certainly not going to do something like hunt down a woman who killed her abusive husband in self-defense. In cases like that, I daresay we're even more liberal than your courts."

  "And in a case where a man sought revenge on his wife's killers?"

  "I'll admit, this is a gray area. If Johnson knew for certain that they had intentionally murdered her, then no, he would not be a target. As it stands... I can only say that we've never encountered a case like this. Add that to the fact that he didn't actually commit the murder..."

  "That too is unusual?"

  "Again, I can't think of an instance of that. It's possible, of course. If a human paid money to murder a fae, then clearly that person could not escape our justice simply because he didn't pull the trigger. That, I believe, is similar to human law."

  "It is."

  "Many years ago, a case was brought to our attention by a full-blood fae whose mate had worked for a man in organized crime. She had attempted to blackmail her employer. He had complained to an underling about it, saying she was a problem he'd pay dearly to solve."

  "Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest?"

  Ioan smiled. "Yes, and while we can trace the murder of Thomas Becket back to Henry the Second, it isn't quite the same as telling one of his men to murder the archbishop. When I was asked by this fae to avenge his mate, I went to see her former employer. I looked him in the eye, and whatever internal scale we possess, it did not tip against him. He was not culpable enough. The man who actually killed her, though? Yes. He was guilty. The initiative remained his. The decision was his. Not the employer's."

  "What you are suggesting, then, is that there is more to Johnson's story."

  "Yes, I believe so."

  Twenty-one

  Olivia

  A car parked in front of Rose's house told me she had a client. I headed across the road to where Grace perched on her front stoop.

  "How's Seanna today?" I asked.

  "Quiet."

  "As usual?"

  Grace looked up at me, her sunken eyes narrowing. Then she said, "No."

  "Not as usual?"

  "I mean, no, I'm not falling for this."

  "Falling for what? I asked a simple question."

  She snorted. "And I am not a simpleton. You think I don't see that look in your eye? I had only to watch you march up that street to know you are a girl with a mission. First to Rose, who's busy. Then you spot me and change course like a guided missile sighting a new target. I know what you're here for, and I know you just came from Patrick's. That fool bocan might slip and tell you something he shouldn't. I will not."

  "But you know what I'm asking about, don't you?"

  "You already said it."

  I met her gaze. "And so did you. You said Seanna's quiet today, which implies she isn't always, yet as far as I know, she's an absolute lamb. Poor, addled Seanna is no trouble at all."

  "It has nothing to do with me."

  "Seanna's less-than-quiet moments? Or the cover-up?"

  She looked me in the eye. "Both."

  "Thank you," I said, and headed back across the road.

  I let myself into Rose's house. She had her client in the parlor. I could hear Rose reading the cards, telling the client that she faced a decision, one that would decide the path of her future.

  As I tiptoed past, I peeked in and motioned to Rose that I'd be in the kitchen. Then I closed the parlor door. Ten minutes later, I was taking the tea bags out of the pot when the front door shut. A moment later, the kitchen doorway darkened.

  "I need to talk to you," I said.

  "I guessed that much. I don't suppose you're looking for a reading."

  I lifted the tea tray as I turned to face her. "I don't know. Can the cards help me figure out why the people I trust most in this town conspired to keep me from knowing about Seanna?"

  Her cheek twitched. "Gabriel told you."

  "Ha. No. That would be too easy. I had this really weird delusion that after we got together, he'd stop lying to me, stop keeping things from me, but that's just me being naive. If a guy is one thing before you start a relationship, don't expect that to change afterward. I knew better. I just hoped, you know?"

  I walked past her into the parlor.

  "He didn't want to upset you," she said as she followed me.

  "Yeah, because I love being coddled." I set the tray down with a clack.

  "He doesn't do that, Liv."

  I turned to her. "I didn't come to discuss Gabriel's motives. I came to discuss yours."

  "Mine?"

  "First, just so there isn't any confusion, no one tattled. I was speaking to Patrick, and I mentioned, off-hand, that Gabriel was struggling with his visits to Seanna, and I've convinced him to take a break from them. I meant the times Gabriel and I visit Seanna for tea. Patrick thought I meant the other times--the ones I didn't know about. An innocent mistake. But Patrick did make it clear he really wasn't happy about the situation. So did Grace. In other words, I get the feeling that both of them thought Gabriel should tell me. If you had also counseled him to tell me, that would have been the tipping point. But he didn't. Therefore, you didn't."

  Her blue eyes frosted.

  Before she could speak, I said, "Yes, I'm crossing a line. Family business. None of mine. But you and Patrick both tell me how good I am for Gabriel. How much he needs someone who supports him unconditionally. Who watches out for his best interests. Yet if watching out for those interests means crossing a line with you or Patrick? That's when I get my hand slapped."

  "I'm not slapping your hand, Liv. I just don't like the way you seem to be suggesting that I don't have his best interests at heart."

  "Oh, but you do. Can I be totally presumptuous here and hazard a guess at your motive?"

  She reached for the teapot, her voice still cool as she said, "Please do."

  "You want reconciliation between Seanna and Gabriel. Or maybe reconciliation is too strong a word. You want Seanna to find peace, to be as happy as she can be in her present state. And you want Gabriel to find peace, too. To come to see another side of Seanna, one he never got to see as a child."

  Rose didn't answer for a moment. Then she said, "You say he's upset. I think you're mistaken. You expect him to be upset, so you see it. I don't."

  I nodded. "Okay. Sure, I'm the one who lives with him, but maybe I'm wrong. Maybe when I suggested he stop our tea visits, he only agreed because he's busy."

  Her mouth opened.

  I kept going. "I know he's taking off at night. I'm guessing he's going to deal with Seanna. Grace hinted that Seanna isn't always as quiet as when I see her. So something happens, she wakes up agitated, and Gabriel goes to help you calm her, and he's not telling me because he knows I'll worry that I've supported the wrong course of action with Seanna, that in balancing your needs and his, I weighed too heavily in your favor."

  She pulled back. Took a cookie. Broke off a piece and then stared at it before putting it, uneaten, onto her saucer.

  "Yes, she wakes upset," Rose said. "Very upset and calling for Gabriel."

  I tensed. "Calling for him?"

  "He's the only one she wants. The only one who can calm her down."

  "So he's not going as additional help. He's going because he has to."

  Her mouth tightened. "I've told him he doesn't need to--"

  "And make you handle her tantrums? Never. If you need him, he's there. What happens after he shows up?"

  "They talk. She acts like a mother. In those moments, she actually behaves like Gabriel's mother."

 
Which was what Rose wanted to see. Desperately.

  "For example...?" I prodded.

  "She asks him about work. She brings up things from their past. Memories. Good ones."

  I bit my tongue against saying there were no good ones.

  "Such as...?" I prodded again.

  "The playground. She mentioned that she remembered taking him to playgrounds."

  My gut went cold. Rose kept talking, something about suspecting Seanna hadn't been there pushing him on the swings, but this showed that she'd been trying.

  "Trying," I said, barely able to get the word out. "It showed she'd been...trying."

  I met her gaze. "Seanna used to lock Gabriel in a cubby hole while she whored. Once, she left him there for days. When she tried to put him back in after that, he panicked. So she started dropping him off at the playground. For hours. Sometimes all night, because you know, it'd just be inconvenient to get out of bed after the guy leaves and have to go pick up your four-year-old son at the playground. Your four-year-old son."

  When I saw Rose's expression, I wanted to suck the words back in. Instead, I sat there, my heart slamming, the voice in my head screaming that I'd fucked up, screwed up, betrayed a trust, hurt someone who did not deserve to be hurt.

  "I... I..." Rose said. "I didn't--"

  I pushed the chair back and scrambled up. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have--"

  "No," she said, rising. "You should have. If that is what Seanna was doing, I needed to know."

  I shook my head and paced across the room. "Gabriel wouldn't want you to. He never wanted you to know how bad it got, back then, and he doesn't want you to know now. He knows you...you feel guilty over not doing more, but you tried--he understands that, and you never realized how bad it was, because that was his choice. It's still his choice and--" I pressed my palms to my eyelids. "And now I've..."

  Hot tears filled my eyes. "God, that was stupid. I'm sorry. To both of you, I'm really, really--"

  Her arms went around me in an awkward embrace. "If Gabriel doesn't want me to know, then there's no reason he needs to know that I do."

  I pulled back and looked at her with a twisted smile. "Isn't that how we get in these situations? Keeping secrets for someone's own good?" I exhaled. "No, I have to tell him. It's uncomfortable, and he doesn't want to be that person. It makes him feel like a victim. I tell him he's a survivor, not a victim."