Third Grave Dead Ahead Page 54


“What situation?” I asked, wary.

“He’s, well, he’s very powerful.”

“Yeah, got that memo as well.”

“And he’s … I’m just not sure how to say this.”

“Sister Mary Elizabeth, there aren’t many things you could say that will offend me, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, good, then I’ll just say it. He’s kind of like your Achilles’ heel.”

“My what?”

“You know, your kryptonite.”

“So, Reyes is my weakness?” I asked, more confused than offended.

“Exactly. You’re in love with him. You can’t make sound decisions when he’s around.”

“She does have a point,” Cookie said, nodding in agreement.

“Pfft. Please. I make sound decisions all day. With my eyes closed. And my hands tied behind my back.”

“Exactly,” she said, her mouth a grim line, “which happens often when he’s around.”

The fact that she knew that was oddly embarrassing.

“So who is it, then? This guardian?” I took a long draw on my java. I’d need all the spunk I could get if I was scheduled for a time of great suffering. Suffering, great or otherwise, tended to leech the spunk right out of me.

“I don’t know his name, but I do know he’ll bring a balance. Oh, and he hasn’t died yet.”

“Okay.” I leaned back in thought. “So he’s going to be a departed?”

“Yes.” She glanced at her watch. “He’s going to die in two days, eleven hours, and twenty-seven minutes.”

“Wow, that’s pretty specific. I don’t actually kill this guy, do I?” I laughed nervously. I would hate to kill my very own guardian angel. He might take it personally.

“Of course not,” she said, chuckling along with me. “Not directly.”

“Well, good.” I took another shot of coffee before her words sank in. “Wait, what does that mean?”

“What?”

“Not directly.”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, glancing at the ceiling in thought, “I’m not really sure. That’s all I got. I hadn’t had my tea yet. Sometimes I miss things before tea.”

“Holy cow.” I put both feet on the floor and sat up straight. “I’m going to be indirectly responsible for someone dying?”

“Yep.”

“Well, that sucks ass.”

“Yes, it does.”

“Can you ask them who it is?”

“Who what is?”

“This guardian I’m going to murder indirectly.”

“Oh, of course.” She laughed softly. “But, ask who?”

Perhaps her decision to remain chaste was for the best. “The angels.”

“Oh, right. No.”

“Why not?” I asked, glowering a little.

“I told you. I don’t talk to angels. I just sort of hear them.” She turned to Cookie. “Is she still not sleeping?”

Cookie shook her head.

“How did you—?” I stopped myself. “The angels? Really? They gossip that much?”

“You have no idea.”

* * *

I showed Sister Mary Elizabeth to the door, then turned back to Cookie. “Is it just me, or was that weird?”

“Both.” She eyed me with a wary suspicion. “So, you’re going to off someone.”

“Not directly,” I said defensively. “I mean, who knows how many people I’ve killed indirectly. You, too, for that matter.”

“Me?” she asked, appalled. “Okay, I’m going to find out if a man named Keith Jacoby was in the Cayman Islands around the time of the doctor’s first wife’s death.”

“Perfect. I’ll do a little research on Reyes’s case and the names he gave me.”

“That’s so wild what she said.” Cookie sat behind her desk. “How she actually hears angels.”

But was that really the most important part? “Did you catch the time-of-great-suffering thing?”

Her expression softened. “Can you just make sure I’m not around when it happens?”

“No can do,” I said, strolling back to my office with a negating wave of my hand. “If I have to suffer, then so does everyone else within a ten-mile radius.”

She pursed her lips. “What ever happened to taking one for the team?”

“Was never much of a team player.”

“Sacrificing yourself for the greater good?”

“Not that into human sacrifice.”

“Suffering in silence?”

I stopped and turned back to her, my eyes narrowing accusingly. “If I have to suffer, I’ll be screaming your name at the top of my lungs the whole time. You’ll be able to hear me all the way to Jersey, mark my words.”

“You’re very testy today.”

Fifteen minutes later, I stabbed the intercom thingy on my desk. “Remember that dental assistant at Reyes’s trial? She said Earl Walker was scared of Reyes, and she just happened to work for the same dentist who identified Earl through his dental records?”

“Sure, I remember. Sarah something,” she said.

“Sarah Hadley. And guess where Sarah Hadley is now.”

“Jamaica?”

“Why would she be in Jamaica?”

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