started the maneuver. “I’m invoicing you for any damage to my car,” she said.
“Invoice Arthur. It’s his ass we’re trying to rescue.”
“Good plan,” she answered, with only a little edge to the gallows humor.
I called Simon back as we got out, bracing myself for having him in my ear again. The phone rang. And rang.
Voicemail.
I tried again.
Voicemail.
Pilar’s eyes were huge in the dark, reflecting the minimal starlight. “He’s not picking up?”
Instead of answering her, I tried again.
Nothing.
Shit.
I called Rio. Within one ring, his voice came on. “Hello.”
“Rio, have you heard from Simon?”
“I have not.”
“We spoke to him when we left. Now he’s not answering.”
Rio paused. I figured he was flipping through the same options I was. “It may be what this antagonist wants, for me to leave the family,” he said.
“Yeah.” I rubbed my forehead. “Yeah. Stay there. Call what’s-her-face. The oldest daughter. Make sure she and Checker are okay.”
“I shall. I can also keep trying Simon.”
“Do that. If you reach him, tell him to call, stat.”
“Cas,” Rio said. “Without Simon’s aid, do you think it wise to—”
“Probably not, but do you think it’s likely you’ll talk me out of it?”
“Cas. We do not even know the likelihood this is a good lead.”
Even if it weren’t a trap for Pilar and me, even if it weren’t a convenient way to get us out of the city in order to hurt someone else—I determinedly didn’t think about D.J. and Checker’s prior relationship—if we didn’t investigate, we were back to where we’d been before. We could go through the rest of the real estate holdings, but the most logical place to start was the one where we already were.
“Have you or Willow Grace found anything else we can pursue?” I said.
“I am still looking, but no. And she has retired for the night. She attempted to go to her own home, but I deemed it unwise.”
That almost made me snicker, despite the ominous feeling that every other damn thing was about to topple on us right now from all directions.
“Well, we’ve got to do this, then,” I said. “Consider us mostly radio silent, but use your own judgment for urgency. Good luck.”
“To you as well,” Rio said. “Have a care, Cas, and God bless.”
I hung up before checking the chamber of my borrowed Vector and muttering, “If there was ever a time, now’s it.”
seventeen
PILAR AND I hiked through the night at a half jog. She had her handgun drawn; I had the rifle at low ready on its sling. I’d put the phone in my pocket on vibrate, just in case Rio or Simon called.
Where the fuck was Simon? I didn’t like the guy, but out of all the things I could call him, flake wasn’t one of them. If he wasn’t picking up, the most likely scenario was that something had happened to him.
But what? He was an extremely powerful telepath. There weren’t many somethings that could happen to him.
Maybe he’d been so tired, he’d fallen asleep, and the phone hadn’t woken him.
Maybe.
We hurried through the dark. The mission rose up against the washed-out stars, a shadow of negative space in the night. It commanded a good view of the surrounding land, with an empty parking lot sprawled before it and more dry, grassy hills behind. A quick scan through the night-vision scope I’d put on the Vector gave me more depth and texture to the Spanish architecture, but no actionable intel.
“For future reference,” I said to Pilar, “this is the crappiest possible scenario to approach. Anyone inside has all the high ground, and we have zero advantage.”
“What can we do?” She breathed the words just above a whisper.
“If we had a day to plan, we might be able to cook up a more creative approach,” I said. “Come in from below or above, maybe. But we don’t have a day to chase a lead that might not even be a lead.”
She didn’t argue the point, just nodded very quickly.
“We’ll sneak in from the back,” I said. “They might not be able to keep a good three-sixty view, and the hills will keep us hidden until we’re closer.”
Again the quick, silent nod from Pilar.
The highest point in the building’s silhouette looked like it was probably some sort of bell tower. I kept half an eye up there, straining for the smallest flash of movement or reflected gleam that might indicate a sniper or a lookout. A breeze stirred the night, bringing the quiet rustle of dry grass and a whispering rattle