Reed said his goodbyes, thanking Mr. Draper again. He wasn’t sure what to make of the call but he’d check it out right after he visited Sabrina McPhee.
Tribulation. Interesting. Reed walked the two remaining blocks to his office building, retrieving his car from the lot and googling the address of the art gallery. It only took him ten minutes to drive there, and find a parking space a block away.
He walked toward the building on the corner that had Sabrina’s name in black block print on the glass front door. Once in front of it, though, he saw that the lights were off. Frowning, he leaned forward, shielding the light over his eyes so he could see inside better. The door opened up into what was essentially a walkway, with two large white walls on either side. Canvases hung on those walls and as Reed’s gaze moved over the art, a chill raced under his skin. The first word that came to Reed’s mind was hellish. They each featured different color iterations of a similar topic: hands reaching up from the depths of a fiery pit, into an empty sky. As he looked more closely at the pit, he could see screaming faces barely discernible through the smoke and ash.
“So that’s creepy,” he murmured, leaning away. Jennifer had mentioned Sabrina McPhee was moderately successful. And the fact that she paid rent on her own studio spoke of that. He hadn’t known there was a market for stills of horror movies. Then again, was he really surprised? Despite his own lack of appreciation for the subject, he could admit she was talented. Maybe this wasn’t all she painted. He couldn’t see around any of the corners inside.
It appeared that the studio was closed, but he knocked anyway, waiting for a minute, and then turning away. When he got back to his car, he got her number from his case file, and dialed it, leaving a message on her voicemail when she didn’t answer.
Reed sat there for a minute, allowing his mind to swirl, but when that produced nothing except a deeper throb of a headache, he breathed out a frustrated sigh, and dialed Milo Ortiz’s number. He, too, didn’t answer, and Reed left a message for him as well.
He was about to start up his car, when he remembered Gordon Draper’s call. He glanced at the time on his radio. Six fifteen. Probably too late to drive over to a comic book store. Still . . . something pricked at him, telling him it was worthwhile to at least look into it.
He pulled up his phone and did a search for Tribulation, and found information about the writer of the comic—now deceased—and a few lines that talked about how the plot loosely referenced the biblical Great Tribulation, a summary of the events leading to the end of days, but overall, there seemed to be a limited amount of information online.
Reed exited out of the page he was on, and looked up comic book stores nearby, calling the closest one on the list. To his surprise, a man picked up the phone. “Avalon Comics and Cards.”
Reed explained what he was looking for.
“Tribulation?” he repeated. “Yeah, it’s obscure. I might have a few editions, but not the full set. You’d have to go online for that. They’re out of print and not cheap.”
“Any chance I could drive over and take a look at what you have? I could be there in ten.”
“Not tonight, sorry. I’ve got the whole place shut down, and I’m just about to lock up. Also, it would take me a little time to dig around for them. What about in the morning, after nine?”
Reed sighed, feeling like he was striking out everywhere. But, fuck, he was tired, and he needed to rest his mind if he was going to be sharp tomorrow. “That works,” Reed said. “I’ll be by after nine. My name’s Detective Reed Davies.”
“Sounds good. I’ll pull what I have first thing. See you then.”
Reed hung up and started his car, pulling away from the curb.
The only thing that was going to resurrect this shitstorm of a day was that he was going home to Liza.
Just don’t get too used to it, he warned himself. It isn’t permanent.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Liza startled as a car backfired somewhere down the street and broke her from her wandering thoughts. She switched the three grocery bags she was carrying to her other hand and turned the corner onto Reed’s