Sam Harlan (Book 3): Damned Cold (13 page)

I swung Jodie’s
Prius into the park across from Meriwether’s house and parked next to a dirty green picnic table. Randy had given me back my trench coat but had only laughed when I’d asked for my Kimber. Apparently the coven’s trust in me to rescue Dorothy didn’t extend to my firearm.

I
did
have my silver Bowie knife, though, as Jodie had agreed that I needed something for protection.

It was early in the afternoon, and a gentle wind rustled through the trees. The sun filtering through the park’s tree branches cast a crazy patchwork of shadows across the grass, and the smell of damp leaves was thick in the air.

I left the Prius and headed east at an easy stroll. There was little traffic noise, and all I could hear was the sound of my own breathing and the scrape-scrape of tree limbs rubbing against each other as I hurried across State Street.

Jodie had informed me that Meriwether’s property was protected by a potent magical spell. I reached into my coat pocket and fingered the leather bag Janice Korman had given me. She claimed it would allow safe passage onto Meriwether’s property. She also claimed it would mask my presence.

The rolling lawn seemed a lot bigger now that I was on foot. The house sat a long way back from the road. If Meriwether’s property was warded and the leather bag didn’t work, I was a sitting duck.

Meriwether was a witch and I was about to trespass on his property.

I might as well paint a big fat target on my back. If only they didn’t have Callie…

I stepped onto the brown grass and felt a tickling up my spine. The coven’s suspicions about Meriwether’s house were true. It
was
warded. I took another step forward. It was like pushing against a wall of Jell-O. Another step forward and the pressure intensified until it finally gave way and I lurched forward.

Thank God the talisman worked.

I made a beeline for the side of Meriwether’s property, where a stand of thick evergreens stretched to the east before turning south. The evergreens wouldn’t provide much cover in the daylight, but it was better than nothing. I continued east until I reached the point that was roughly north of the house. Fifty yards of grass separated the evergreens from the house.

Randy and Janice Korman believed that Dorothy was being held in Meriwether’s basement. Jodie thought Dorothy was being held in a bedroom on the third floor of the mansion.

I agreed with Randy and Janice. If Meriwether was holding Dorothy, the safest place to keep her would be in the basement, where the thick earth would muffle her screams for help.

Assuming Meriwether actually has Dorothy.

The basement windows were wide but short, the way basement windows in old houses used to be. Carefully sculpted shrubs dotted the sides of the house and I hoped they would shield me from view as I attempted to gain entry.

My stomach was doing flip-flops and a part of me recognized I was stalling for time.

It wasn’t fear, exactly. I was a vampire hunter, or, at least, I wanted to be. Breaking into a witch’s house to rescue a woman I didn’t know wasn’t the kind of job I pictured Jack doing.

Then again, I wasn’t Jack.

And Callie was hurt.

Worrying about it isn’t getting the job done.

I strode quickly across the lawn, heading for the house, and found that the line of bushes
did
shield me from view.

I peered into the nearest basement window. It led to a cluttered storage room filled with heavy wooden shelves lined with cardboard boxes.

The bottom of the window moved when pressed, but it didn’t open. The window was hinged at the top and I pushed again, monkeying with it until the window gave way and swung inward. There was just enough room to squeeze through and drop to the concrete floor six feet below.

The room was big. Light streamed through the dirty windows and provided a surprisingly good view. The walls were brick. Ancient wooden floor joists ran above my head.

The house was old, but it was built to withstand the ages. I resisted the urge to whistle softly and crept around the room until I found a door that led south.

I twisted the brass knob, half expecting the door to creak and moan when I pushed against it, but it opened silently, exposing another room. Unlike the storage room, this room was semifinished, with white plaster walls and wooden stairs that led to the first floor.

Nicky Meriwether sat on the floor, playing with a set of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle dolls. The room was full of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle merchandise, including a plastic van the size of a small toaster oven and a row of three-foot-tall mannequins of the four turtles. At least half a dozen Ninja Turtle posters were taped to the walls, and the wooden shelf around the top of the room was covered in tiny turtle figurines. Nicky sat on the floor in the middle of the room, batting around a tall figurine I didn’t recognize.

Before I could make my retreat, Nicky looked up, saw me, and smiled. “You came to play Ninja Turtles!”

My mind raced. I couldn’t leave, but I wasn’t about to hurt the man-child. “That’s right. I came to play Ninja Turtles.”

Nicky pointed to the room behind me. “Why were you in
there
?”

“I knocked on the front door,” I lied, “but nobody heard me. I had to climb in through the window.”

I prayed silently that Nicky would look past the blatant lie.

He nodded slowly. “Okay. Who do you wanna be?”

“Who do I want to be?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Nicky said. “You wanna be Leonardo? I like Michelangelo. Michelangelo uses numb-chucks. You know about numb-chucks?”

I smiled. “I think they’re called nunchucks. How about I play Rafael?”

“Rafael’s cool,” Nicky allowed, “but not as cool as Michelangelo.”

He stood and handed me one of the turtles. “Okay, we’re fighting Shredder. You gotta fight Shredder with Rafael.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay,” I said. “Rafael it is. So, how do we fight Shredder?”

“Like this,” Nicky said, smacking the taller masked figurine with his turtle.

“Okay. Hey, Nicky? Is your dad home?”

“I don’t
think
so,” Nicky said. “He’s always gone. He doesn’t wanna play Ninja Turtles with me very much. Like,
never
.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “I’m here to play with you now.” I picked up Rafael and hop walked him across the floor until I could swing his foot at the Shredder figurine.

“Take that, Shredder!” Nicky shrieked. “Here comes Michelangelo.” He smacked the nunchucks into Shredder’s side, knocking it over.

His laugh was full of wonder and joy, and for a moment I forgot that Callie was locked in the center of the pentagram, held with magic by the force of a coven’s will.

His laugh was full of wonder and joy. For a moment, I forgot that Callie was held the coven’s magic in the center of a pentagram.

Then, Nicky spoke. “Where’s that girl?”

“What girl?”

“You know. That girl you were with.”

The feeling of joy evaporated, as quickly as mist burning away from the morning sun. “She couldn’t make it. She wanted to play Ninja Turtles with you, but she had to do something else.”

“I wish she was here,” Nicky said. “It’s fun to have lots of people when you play Ninja Turtles.”

“Isn’t there anyone here who can play with you?”

Nicky frowned in confusion. “Huh?”

“Isn’t there anyone else here?”

“Who
could
be here?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “A man or a woman?”

“No,” Nicky said, shaking his head. “There’s nobody here. We’re all alone.”

“There’s
never
anybody here?”

Nicky pondered that, his face scrunched up in deep concentration. Finally, he said softly, “Well, sometimes there
are
people. I think they are Daddy’s friends.”

“Do you know any of them?”

Nicky shook his head. “They’re
old
people.”

“Old people?” I asked. “How old?”

“You know,” he said, shaking his Michelangelo doll. “
Old
people.”

I smiled in spite of myself. “Was there anyone here recently? An older woman?”

“Maybe,” Nicky allowed. “I don’t remember days too good. Maybe it was … yesterday?”

Yesterday?

“What did this woman look like?”

“I don’t ‘member,” Nicky said slowly. “Old.”

“Was she a friend of your dad’s?”

“I
think
so. They yelled a lot.”

“About what?”

“I couldn’t hear too good, but when Daddy talks real loud like that, he’s pretty mad.”

“This woman was in the house? Where?”

Nicky eyed me suspiciously. “You ask lots of questions. You said you were gonna play Ninja Turtles.”

“I know,” I said. “I promised I would play with you, but I think I know that woman. I’ve been looking for her. Is she still here?”

“I said I don’t ‘member.” Nicky turned his attention back to the Michelangelo figurine, bouncing it across the floor and kicking Shredder. “I don’t wanna talk about her. I wanna play.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He turned his attention back to me, and a smile lit up his face. “That’s okay. I’m glad you wanna play with me. I
guess
I can show you where she was.”

“That would be great, Nicky. I’d really like to see her.”

“Sure.” He put his figurine on the floor and took Rafael from my hands, placing it next to Michelangelo. “C’mon. It’s upstairs.”

I followed Nicky up the stairs, through a doorway, around the corner, and up a set of stairs to the second floor. He led me down a long hallway lined with tiny alcoves set into the walls every five feet. Soft overhead lights shone on pieces of artwork. It reminded me of a hallway I’d seen once before, in Silas’s house in Indianapolis. Just the thought made my blood boil.

We came to a door. Nicky smiled and pointed at it. “She was in there.”

“Thanks, Nicky. This really helps me out.”

Nicky smiled shyly. “You played Ninja Turtles with me. That means we’re best friends.”

“Best friends,” I agreed, reaching out to spin the doorknob. “Ninja Turtles make the best of friends.”

Nicky giggled as the door opened.

“Ninja Turtles
do
make the best of friends,” a voice said from inside. My heart sank at the site of Carlton Meriwether sitting at a massive desk covered in rich black leather. “Hello, Mr. Harlan.”

* * *

“Mr. Meriwether,” I said.

Behind me, Nicky’s breathing increased. “Daddy?”

Meriwether smiled and said softly, “Nicholas, I think you should return to your playroom. Mr. Harlan and I have business to discuss.”

I turned to Nicky and nodded, forcing myself to smile. “It’s okay, Nicky. I’ll play Ninja Turtles with you some other time.”

The man-child looked like he wanted to speak, but his gaze shifted back to his father and he nodded, his face crestfallen. “I guess so. Bye.”

“Please,” Meriwether said to me, “come in. Shut the door.”

I reached for the door and saw Nicky, already halfway down the hallway, turn and offer a small wave. I waved back, then shut the door and turned my attention to the man whose home I had invaded. “I guess you know why I’m here.”

“Have a seat,” Meriwether said, motioning to the elegant chair in front of his desk.

Floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined the walls of Meriwether’s office. Old-fashioned rolling ladders hung from brass pipes on each wall. A bay window provided a warm glow that gave the room a fresh, lived-in feel. I sank into the offered chair, my trench coat squeaking against the leather. “Is this where you threaten me?”

“I don’t threaten, Mr. Harlan. Why would I?” Meriwether’s brow furrowed. “I see the Sister isn’t with you.”

“How did you know she was religious?”

“Because I’m not a fool,” Meriwether said. “I didn’t need to use my gift. The Sister has a certain … glow. She shines with an inner light. But you haven’t answered the question.”

“I didn’t realize you had asked one.”

Meriwether smiled sadly. “Jodie Rexford. I should have known. What has she done with your friend?”

“For a man with a small talent, you sure seem to know what’s going on.”

“Once again, I’m not a fool. Jodie is holding the Sister. She sent you to break into my house. She still believes I’m responsible for Dorothy’s disappearance.”

I had to hand it to Meriwether. He
did
understand the situation. “You knew I was here,” I said, withdrawing the talisman from my trench coat. “Even though I had this thing.”

Meriwether pointed to a computer monitor on his desk. “I have video cameras. No magic necessary. Jodie must have you over a barrel to get you to come here like this.”

I swallowed heavily. He was right.

She does have me over a barrel. Damn it
.

“Nicky said he heard you yelling at an older woman. You’re going to tell me that wasn’t Dorothy Hamm?”

Meriwether laughed. “I assure you, I have not abducted Dorothy.”

“I didn’t ask if you abducted her,” I said. “I asked whether she was
here
.”

Meriwether leaned back in his chair and regarded me thoughtfully. “I will allow that I
might
have spoken with Dorothy in the last week. But I promise you, I had
nothing
to do with her disappearance.”

There was something else there, something Meriwether wasn’t saying. I could sense it. I thought back to everything he had said in our first encounter, and everything the Rexfords had said about him.

Something doesn’t add up.

“Nicky said he heard you arguing with her. Is that true?”

“Sometimes friends disagree,” Meriwether said, his eyes narrowing. “Arguing with an old friend isn’t a crime.”

“I thought you said you hadn’t really spoken with Dorothy since your college fling.”

Meriwether sighed. “I wasn’t exactly honest about that.”

“You lied about—”

“It’s
nobody’s
business,” Meriwether said with a sudden heat to his voice. “That’s the problem with people today. They think they have a right to know everyone’s business. Some things are private for a reason. Dorothy and I
may
have kept in contact. So what? We weren’t having an affair. It was just a few words here and there over the years. Why does Jodie think she has a right to know about that?”