killings began. The first, received on the eighth, came from Louisiana, where he was likely preparing for his attack on Holden. The second came the following day, from California, presumably arranging to pick up the final list. Both calls were made from pay phones.”
“And the earlier calls? Before the attacks? Tell me they all came from the same place.”
“From the same region, though, again, all from pay phones. The first was made in Dayton, Ohio, the second in Covington, Kentucky, and the third near Columbus, Indiana. Triangulate those points on a map and in the middle you’ll find Cincinnati.”
“So he’s from Cincinnati?” Jaime said.
“It’s reasonable to assume he was residing there, at least briefly, before the killings began. By making the calls from three smaller cities, it would appear he was avoiding a deliberate link with Cincinnati.”
“So should we head up to Cincinnati? Start asking around the supernatural community?”
“There isn’t a supernatural community in Cincinnati.” I glanced at Lucas. “Is there?”
“While there may be a few supernaturals living in the region, there is no ‘community’ to speak of. The Nasts recently considered locating a satellite office there for that very reason.” He caught my frown and explained. “Cabals prefer to expand into virgin territory, where they don’t have many resident supernaturals to contend with.”
“So there’s nobody in Cincinnati to ask.” Jaime sighed. “Shit. It couldn’t be that easy, could it?”
“There’s still the motivation lead,” I said. “Esus thinks we’re looking for a supernatural with a vendetta against the Cabals. The only other reasonable motivation is money. Pay me a billion bucks and I’ll stop killing your kids. But the Cabals haven’t received any blackmail notes.” I paused. “Unless they have and they’re just not telling us. Damn, I hate this.”
“I feel reasonably safe in saying that no extortion attempts have been made,” Lucas said. “Now that one of Thomas Nast’s grandsons is dead, a killer with any knowledge of Cabals would know he can’t buy his way out of this. As Esus said, it’s personal.”
“Then, when you put the clues together, we have a serious lead here. Adult male, living in the Cincinnati area, has reason to want revenge on the Cabals—not one, but all the Cabals. There can’t be many supernaturals who fulfill that criteria.”
“So we just ask the Cabals—” Jaime looked over at Lucas. “It’s not that easy, either, is it?”
“Probably not,” he said. “I’m afraid that if I give the Cabals too much information, we’ll have a repeat of the Weber incident.”
“Or a sudden epidemic afflicting male supernaturals living in Ohio,” I said.
“Precisely. We’ll start instead by canvasing my contacts. If a supernatural has reason to be this angry at the Cabals, someone must have heard of it.”
“There’s nothing we outsiders like better than gossip about the big bad Cabals,” Jaime said. “I could make a few calls of my own.”
“Excellent idea,” Lucas said. “First, though, let me talk to a local contact. He publishes an underground anti-Cabal newsletter, and he’s always my best source of Cabal rumor.”
“He lives in Miami and puts out an anti-Cabal newsletter?” I said. “He’d better hope your father never finds out.”
“My father knows all about Raoul. In such matters he follows Sun Tzu’s maxim about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. “Okay, well, is this Raoul someone I can meet?”
“He’s a shaman, not a sorcerer, so he’ll have no aversion to discussing matters with a witch. In addition, we may be able to find some, uh, interesting reading material in his bookstore.”
“Spells?”
A tiny smile. “Yes, spells. Remember, though, that by bringing you to the source of the spells, any that you care to acquire must be purchased by me, and therefore count toward my accumulated total option choices.”
I grinned. “You got it.”
“Spells don’t help me,” Jaime said. “But I could use a book to read. Mind if I tag along?”
That was fine with us, so we grabbed our things and left.
Literary Haunts
RAOUL WAS ON VACATION. ACCORDING TO HIS ASSISTANT, he hadn’t taken so much as two consecutive days off in five years but now, when we needed him, he’d decided it was time for a monthlong European holiday. I suspected this wasn’t coincidence—he’d probably heard of the Cabals’ latest “investigative” tactics, and feared he’d be next on their list.
Although Raoul was gone, he wasn’t out of contact. That’s the life of the self-employed—you can never really be away, or you might come home to find your business in shambles. Even lying in my hospital bed, I’d checked