Chapter 30
Chapter
Thirty
“So? How are things going at Fiendish?” Prue asked over Kate’s cell phone, concern in every syllable.
Kate was glancing carefully at the Google map on her cell. Fortunately, her destination wasn’t far from the BART station, but she was still hoofing it.
If she’d known she was going to try and prevent a murder, she would have borrowed her brother Tim’s truck again.
“I definitely decided to quit,” Kate said with a brittle laugh. “I found out what all the hubbub was about. Thirteen people, Prue. He’s going to kill thirteen people.”
“Dayyyyyyum,” Prue said, in obvious shock, then went silent for a second. “Did you actually tell him you quit?”
“I think he’ll figure it out when I don’t show up after lunch,” Kate said, checking the map again.
“If he doesn’t have me killed outright, I’m pretty sure I’m not getting paid this week.
Oh, and right now I’m headed to tell some old fart that I’m pretty sure he’s about to be merked.
So far, on a suck scale of one to ten, I’m at eleven. ”
“I’ve got Nan working on the protective spells,” Prue said. If Kate hadn’t been Prue’s best friend for a decade, she’d never have heard the fear skittering behind her friend’s soothing tone. “I’ll call a rideshare and meet you, and we’ll head over to Nan’s house. Where are you?”
“I’m over in Lafayette,” she said. “This guy lives pretty close to the station.”
“In that case, when you’re done, jump back on the train to Pleasanton. I’ll grab you at the station there,” Prue said. “Don’t worry. Nobody’s going to get you. I’ll make damned sure of that.”
“But now what?” Kate said, her voice breaking despite her efforts to keep it steady. “I just lay low in Nan’s root cellar for a few years?”
“Well, at least she’s a good cook.” Prue tried to joke, but her voice cracked, too.
“My family’s not going to understand,” Kate said. “They’re going to think the cheese has finally slipped off my cracker. That I’m just as useless as they’ve always feared.” Her voice broke on the last sentence.
“Shhh. It’ll be all right.”
“How?”
“We will make it all right,” Prue said, and her voice was like steel. “Think positive, yeah?”
Kate let out a watery laugh. “I don’t think the power of positive thinking covers stuff like this. But I’ll try.”
“You’re just going to warn the guy, right?
You’re not going to try to…I don’t know, bring him into protective custody or something?
” Prue said. “I’m doing some pretty fast talking to get Nan to work magic for you.
I don’t know if she’d be cool with babysitting some stranger, and a signatory to boot. ”
“Just warn him,” Kate reassured her.
“Couldn’t you just call?”
“First, he apparently has no phone. Second, even if he did have a phone, if somebody called you and said this big billionaire guy was going to kill you, what would you do?”
“Oh,” Prue said. “Yeah. I wouldn’t believe you either, I guess. Unless—”
“I don’t know what you do, about all this paranormal stuff, Prue.
But it’s like you said, I can’t just sit by because it doesn’t involve me.
” Finally, Kate was on the right street.
She started checking house numbers. “As far as I’m concerned, killing’s just wrong, whatever the reasons.
Right now, I can’t think of what else to do. ”
“I’ll be waiting for you at the station,” Prue said. “Actually, why don’t you wait for me to get there, where you are. I don’t like you alone out there with all this going on.”
“I know,” Kate said, her chest warming. “But I’m almost there, and it should take me five minutes. I’ll see you soon.”
Prue sighed. “Love you. Be careful, sweetie.”
“Love you, too,” Kate said, then hung up, just as she arrived at his walkway.
The house was nice, she realized, with a bigger than average yard, and a style that was a little more sumptuous than the surrounding houses justified. It looked like an older building that had been remodeled and improved on. Like a McMansion on steroids.
She walked carefully, trying to concoct some cover story that would justify her being there. But how exactly did you lead up to, Say, I think the guy I used to work for is going to kill you?
She sighed. This was so, so going to suck.
She knocked. There wasn’t an immediate answer, although there was a car in the driveway.
Please be home, she begged. If she had to come back, she was pretty sure she wasn’t going to make it—and Thomas would probably hunt her down. She felt anxiety like prickles across her skin.
The door opened slowly, and a leathery looking older man stared back at her, with a small, goofy smile of apology. “I’m sorry my dear, it takes a bit longer to get to the door than it used to.”
She smiled back, even though she was pretty sure she looked sickly doing it. “Absolutely no problem. Um, are you Mr. Klauss?”
She waited, but he seemed to be staring at her, rapt. She wondered if he had some kind of dementia. This thing just got worse and worse.
“Mr. Klauss?” she repeated.
He shook himself. “I’m sorry, but…this is probably too personal, and I know it’s a bit ‘not the thing’ these days,” he said apologetically. “But—what are you? Racially, I mean. Asian, perhaps? Native American? Possibly Latina? I can’t quite place you.”
Kate made a sour lemon face. She really did hate it, and it was both rude and racist. It had been years since someone had asked. Still, she was here with a purpose. “Viet-Irish, actually. Anyway, I—”
“Isn’t that amazing. I am fascinated by different cultures, and I apologize if I made you uncomfortable,” he said. “What can I do for you, young lady?”
She blinked at him. Given what Slim had told her about the power base, this old guy had signed on to be a human shield. Thomas would kill someone like this? This slow little geezer, who looked like he’d fall over if he sneezed?
“I, uh…” She cleared her throat. “You know what? I’ve got a really weird story, and you’re probably going to think I’m crazy, but I have to talk to you. I won’t take up too much of your time.”
“You don’t look crazy, dear,” he reassured her, his voice soothing. “And as it happens, I don’t get a lot of entertainment. I love stories, even weird ones, and I can’t imagine a prettier storyteller to pass the afternoon with. Why don’t you come in, and tell me all about it?”
He’s a sweetheart, she thought, and stepped in.
The house reminded her of Aloyshus, actually—a little musty, with hints of cedar and cologne. Old-man smells. He shuffled next to her, taking her down the hallway to the living room in the back of the house. She sat on the couch, waiting for him to sit next to her.
“Now, what’s this all about, dear?” he asked, after she turned down his offer of tea and cookies. “I hope you don’t mind my saying, but pretty as you are, you look upset.”
“Do you know Thomas Kestrel?”
He frowned. “The name’s a bit familiar.”
“He owns Fiendish Enterprises.”
“Ah, yes!” The old man all but clapped his hands. “Read about that building of his, in the paper. Ugly, garish thing. What about him?”
“I, ah…I work for him, and…” She swallowed hard. “There’s just no easy way to ask this. Did you sell your soul at some point?”
He stared at her. “I’m sorry, but my hearing’s not what it was. Did you ask if I sold my soul?”
“I told you it was weird,” she said, miserable. “But your name was on a contract at the office, and I think…well, I actually know that Thomas Kestrel is going to come after you.”
She paused a beat as he stared at her.
“Like, to kill you,” she clarified, when he didn’t seem to comprehend.
“After me? To kill me?” The man shook his head, then stood up. He reached for a remote, clicking it. The Venetian blinds closed, startling her. “And… exactly when was he planning to do that?”
“Soon, I think,” she said. “You know, now that I’ve said it out loud, I feel even more ridiculous. I could be wrong, but…I thought…”
“You thought telling me was the right thing to do.”
She nodded, tears clogging her throat in gratitude. “I don’t know what you’ve done,” she said, “and it’s none of my business, but…I can’t be a party to someone getting killed. I’m not going to just stand there and do nothing.”
“That’s very noble of you,” Victor reassured her. “Now, one question. How did you find me?”
The old man looked less frail, she noticed, once the blinds were closed. He stood straighter and his rheumy eyes gleamed a sharp blue. Even his smile was different.
Suddenly unnerved, she got to her feet. “He had your address. Got it from some private investigator.” She swallowed hard. “He’s probably on his way now. I should go. I mean, we both should. It’s not safe.”
“No,” he agreed quietly. “No, it certainly isn’t.”
Then he lunged for her.
Her body had acknowledged the threat before her mind had. Unfortunately, he moved quickly, more quickly than she could have imagined. She’d taken two steps before he tackled her, and she hit the hardwood floor like a ton of bricks.
“Now, now, you don’t need to be in a hurry to leave,” he said, his voice a raspy, creepy whisper. “I so rarely get an Amerasian. You’re so exotic. I’m looking forward to this.”