Craving (25 page)

“Well you should. Why not think of it as a game of chess. Alistair’s put his pieces into position, and he’s trying to back you into a corner, but you don’t have to do what he wants.” I heard her gum popping. “So what are you going to do? Why aren’t we at
Armageddon
now?”

I sighed and stared at the ceiling some more, and thought longingly about Kitten again. “The club is shut tonight. We’re going tomorrow.”

12.4 Katherine

We were back in Manchester before nine in the morning, and I asked Josh to drop me off at Tristan’s house. He shared a sprawling, Victorian terraced house on a quiet street a short bus ride from the city center, with a fluctuating group of students. It was unlikely he’d be at Uni, he rarely went to early lectures, but since I no longer had my old phone I couldn’t ring him first. I stood on the doorstep and peered up at the bedroom facing onto the street. The curtains were still closed. I pressed the doorbell and left my finger on the button. The buzzing sounded like a demented wasp.

Seconds later, I heard the locks clunking, and the door flew open. Tristan, dressed only in boxers, his hair disheveled, looked what could only be described as pissed off. “Well you took your time.” His snarl made no sense, but he stepped back and waved me inside, slamming the door behind me. “I’ve been ringing you for the last two days, where the fuck have you been?”

“I’ve lost my phone. What’s the matter?”

He led me into the kitchen where Melissa was brewing coffee. She gave me a nervous smile. Tristan sank into one of the chairs at the table and scrubbed his hands over his face before speaking. His voice was gruff. “It’s all gone. All the equipment, the lab time, even the fucking van. All repossessed. Our grant has been revoked.” He scowled at me. “Chaz has lost his scholarship funding, and the Head of the Psych Department has been fired.”

I clung to the nearest chair for support, my father’s threat ringing in my ears:
“I should remind you that you’re not the only person relying on my patronage.”
He’d funded my entire department via anonymous scholarships and grants—a wealthy patron with seemingly bottomless pockets. “What will happen to Chaz?” Like me, he had only months to complete his course.

Tristan shrugged. “Fuck knows. He’ll probably have to defer it for a couple of years until he can afford to study again.” I seethed once more. I had painstakingly saved enough money to be able to finish my studies, but if all our research had gone, it would be a nightmare to replace it. Melissa slipped her arms around Tristan’s neck and dropped a kiss on the top of his head. It was a stark reminder of Dante, and I dragged my attention back to the reason for my visit.

Tristan hadn’t finished his rant yet. “While you’ve been swanning around, the study group has been falling apart. Your research is fucked, Kathy. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the fucking Police have been all over us, looking for information on Dante. Did you read about that?”

“How do you know Nanette and Dante? Where did you meet them?”

“Have you listened to a fucking word I’ve said?”

“Dante was set up. He’s trying to find Nanette, and so am I.” With an effort I relaxed my death grip on the chair and wrapped my arms around myself. “Are you going to help me?”

12.5 Josh

We waited in a city center café for Suki’s contact to show and made uncomfortable small talk over frothy lattes. I was relieved when Katherine rang me.

“Tristan’s cousin recommended Dante when he heard we were looking for a psychic. I don’t know how he knows Dante or Nanette, and Tristan has no idea, so we’re going to meet up with him tonight.”

“Why wait until tonight?”

“Bones, his cousin, sings in a rock band with a regular spot at
Armageddon,
and they’re playing tonight. It’s the best way to find him, apparently.” Her voice went muffled for a moment as though she was moving around. “I’m going with Tristan and some of his friends.”

I glanced at Suki, staring unfocused at the street outside. “We’ll come with you.”

When I put my phone down on the table, Suki caught my eye. “He might be here now, with us.” She sounded matter of fact, and a shiver trickled down my spine. “Without Dante and Eve, I have no way of knowing what Gabe is doing, or where he is.” She gestured toward a nearby table. “He might be there.” A nod at the empty seat next to me. “He might be sitting with us right now, laughing at you.”

I shivered and she noticed.

“He’s here—I’m
sure
. Did you feel that? Like icy fingers on the back of your neck?” Panic sounded just a few breaths away, and I grabbed her hand and held it tight.

“Don’t, Suki. It’s crazy to think like that.” Uh-oh, that was so the wrong thing to say. She tugged her hand free and pushed her chair back a little way.

“Thanks, Josh.” She bit the words out. “Gabe was trying to send me insane as you know. Looks like he might have done a better job than—”

“Suki.” A deep voice interrupted us. “Sorry we’re late.”

I reined in my frustration and pulled together a smile for her colleagues.

Ever the professional, Suki masked her anxiety, and greeted the two men, air kissing their cheeks and chattering in a bright voice.

I doubt they noticed the tension in her hands and the fear in her eyes, but I saw them. They tore into me as sharp as any knife.

There was little extra information about the ongoing research into Alistair’s dealings, but since they were also going to
Armageddon
tonight, we agreed to go with them. I needed to do something to divert her attention until then, and tracking down Dante was top of my list.

I snagged her hand again, brushing my thumb in a gentle, soothing motion. “Let’s go to the tattoo shop. See if Dante’s been there.”

* * * *

Suki flashed me a tight smile as we climbed out of my car. “Follow my lead, okay?” Without waiting for my reply, she sashayed into the tattoo parlor and leaned on the counter at the front of the shop. It was a smarter place than I’d expected—a double-fronted building on a busy road, clean and tidy inside. A skinny girl bending over a customer glanced over her shoulder at us.

“Be right with you,” she called, and then returned her attention to the piercing she was working on. To our left, an enormous bald man worked on a leather-clad biker’s arm tattoo, a swirling Celtic pattern taking shape beneath his surprisingly deft fingers.

The skinny girl joined us a few minutes later, her gaze flicking over us both, before settling on me. “Can I help you?”

Suki cleared her throat. “I’d like to speak to whoever’s in charge.”

The words had barely left her mouth before the girl spoke again. “Oh my
God
, you’re Suki Bridgewater! I
love
your show. I
loved
the interview with Mick Manners. Tell me, is he as much of a dick in real life as he was on the show?”

Suki laughed and shook the offered hand. “Thank you. And as pop stars go, he was interesting.”

“Are you here for a piercing? I could give you a beautiful belly button. Or some ink? We’re a bit shorthanded at the moment,” she hesitated and glanced at her colleague, “but I don’t mind shuffling our appointments for you.”

“Afraid not, I’m looking for some background information. Are you the manager here?”

The girl winced and shook her head. “Naw, I just work here. The, boss is, uh, off sick at the moment, but maybe Giant could help you? I can ask him to take a break. Why don’t you come into the office and wait for him?”

We followed her into a tiny room, declined her offer of drinks and watched as she scuttled back to her colleague. Suki took a deep breath as though composing herself and turned to look at a pin board on the wall. It was covered with designs and drawings, press clippings from local papers, and a single postcard pinned in the top corner. I frowned and stepped closer, it looked familiar. Very familiar.

“Hey, babe.” I stared at the card. “Recognize this place?”

She touched the image. “Looks like the beach near Anita’s place.”

“It is.” I tugged the card from the board, stabbing its pin back into the cork. I turned it over to see a blank space. It had never been used, but the caption at the bottom confirmed my thought.
Trearddur Bay, Anglesey
. “Just out of the picture, is the gray mansion where I met Dante. He must have left the card here.”

Footsteps behind us jogged our attention. “Rezzie said you’re looking for the manager?”

The bald man filled the doorway, but his smile was friendly, and Suki leaned forward to shake his hand. “We’re actually looking for Dante. Have you seen him?”

I saw a flash of anger in his eyes. His voice was hard when he spoke. “If you’re looking for a story, I suggest you go read the tabloids. We don’t have anything to say to you.”

“We heard what happened to Ash.” Suki kept hold of the man’s hand. “Dante is a friend of ours. We’re trying to help.”

“No offence, Miss, but he never mentioned you.”

I shoved up the sleeve of my fleece jacket and showed him my Talisman. “He wears something like this, doesn’t he?”

“He might.”

This was getting nowhere. I pinned the postcard back onto the board. “If you speak to him, please ask him to call Josh and Suki.”

12.6 Dante

I counted my dwindling cash supply and tossed up a few ideas in my head. Time was running out equally fast, and I desperately wanted to see Gran.
Say goodbye to her.
I dug out my phone and rang the nursing home, making an appointment for late morning. It beeped at me as I disconnected. Battery low. There wasn’t time to charge it. I’d do that after I’d seen Gran.

It amused me that Eve rode there on Bonnie, squealing in my ear as I accelerated away. “Faster,” she urged at the corners, her excitement infectious.

I’d rather have had Kitten tucked in behind me, hands tight around my middle, but Eve was company, and I was grateful for that. The Yorkshire weather was closing in, and motorway traffic was slow, but we arrived eventually, and I managed a smile at Eve’s vitality. So vibrant. She must have been a right character when she was alive.

After parking in the deserted visitor’s car park, I stayed astride my bike a few moments longer, listening to the engine ticking as it cooled.

Eve stepped in front of me and fiddled with her hair. “Well? Are we going inside?”

“I, uh, want to see her on my own, Eve. Can you come back later?”

She rolled her eyes at me and pouted.

I stayed firm. “This is private.” I couldn’t handle an audience.

After one last, defiant pink bubble, she disappeared, and I let out a ragged breath before digging through my saddlebags. I didn’t have much in the way of personal items. Anything of value had already been sold, but I had a strip of photographs, and I wanted to leave those with Gran. With the little bundle of pictures tucked securely inside my leather, I walked slowly into the building, my mind awash with memories. Who would look after Gran when I was gone? Who would visit her? I felt sick at leaving her all alone.

She hurled herself into my arms as I entered her room. “Dante,” she cooed, “you came. You’re all wet. Can we go see the puppies again?”

“Yeah, we can.” I swallowed hard, emotion a solid lump in my throat. “You taking a coat?”

“Do I have to?” She slipped her arm through mine and squeezed it tight, a beaming smile breaking out on her face. “Can I have one this time? A puppy? Please?”

Oh God, this was killing me. I stared outside at the drizzle and tried to fix a smile on my face. It was creaky and highly artificial, but hopefully she wouldn’t notice.

“I want to talk to you for a minute first, and then we’ll go to the puppies.” I closed my fingers around the photos in my pocket and worked some more on my smile. I sank onto the sofa and patted the cushion next to me, still unsure what to say. Gran perched on the edge, sliding her feet back and forth on the carpet, her eyes peeping up at me, bird bright.

Unable to speak, I produced the wallet and opened it on my knees. The clear plastic holder expanded to hold eight pictures.
My life in eight images.

Gran’s face lit up, and she leaned over to look at them, trailing a finger from one snap to the next. Me as a toddler, clutching a huge tabby cat. Me in school uniform, a nervous smile on my face, the day I started junior school. A pale and thin woman with an anxious smile, who may or may not have been my mother. Me as a young boy, running along a stretch of sand into the sea, a golden Labrador bounding along beside me.

I smiled at that one. “Who did that dog belong to? I remember we went out for the day with a friend of yours. I can’t even remember where we went.” I stared some more. The beach looked familiar. Those craggy rocks and that cave… it looked like the beach near Josh’s place.