The Dead Girls Dance Page 0,56

the door shut, and hurried toward the sound of the voices. Yes, that was Detective Hess; she recognized his voice. No question about it.

She didnt even realize where she was goingshe was so intent on listeninguntil she realized how dark it was, and the words werent getting any clearer, and she wasnt at all sure now that was Detective Hesss voice after all.

And she was halfway down an alley with tall, rough board fence on both sides, trapping her.

Shed gone into the alley. Why the hell had she done that? Hess had warned her. Gramma had warned her. And she hadnt listened!

Claire tried to turn around, she really tried, but then the whispers came again, and yes, for sure that was Detective Hess, there was no safety back there in the car, the car was a trap waiting to spring, and if she could just get to the end of the alley shed be safe, Detective Hess would keep her safe, and shed be

Claire.

It was a cold, clear voice, falling on her like ice down her back, and it shocked her right out of the trance shed fallen into. Claire looked up. On the second story of Grammas house, bordering the alley, a slender white figure stood in the window, staring down.

Amelie.

Go back, she said, and then the window was empty, curtains blowing in the wind.

Claire gasped, turned, and ran as fast as she could out of the alley. She could feel it at her back, pulling at herit, whatever it was, it wasnt a vampire as she understood vamps in Morganville; it was something else, something worse. Trapdoor spider, that was how Gramma and Lisa had described it. Panic whited out its song in her head, and she made itsomehowto the end of the alley and burst out into the street.

Detective Hess was standing at the car, looking straight at the alleyway. Gun drawn and held at his side. He visibly relaxed at the sight of her, came around, and hustled her to the passenger side of the car. That was dumb, he said. And youre lucky.

I thought I heard you, she said faintly. Hess raised his eyebrows.

Like I said. Dumb. He shut the door on her, came around, and put the car in gear.

Whered you go?

Chapter Nineteen

He didnt answer. Claire looked back. There was something in the shadows in the alley, but she couldnt tell what it was.

Just that its eyes reflected the light.

It was coming up on deep night, when most sensible people were fast asleep in their beds with their doors bolted and windows securely locked, and Claire was knocking on the door of Common Grounds. It had a CLOSED sign in the window, but the lights were on in the back.

Youre sure you want to do this, Hess said.

You sound just like my subconscious, Claire said, and kept knocking. The blinds twitched and tented; locks rattled.

Oliver opened the door of the coffee shop, and the smell of espresso and cocoa and steamed milk washed over her. It was warm, welcoming, and so very wrong, considering what she knew about him.

He looked very humanly harassed at her arrival. Its late, he said. What is it?

I need to talk to you about

No, he said very simply, and looked at Hess over her head.

Detective Hess, you need to take this child home. Shes lucky to still be alive today. If she wants to continue that winning streak, then she ought to be a little more cautious than to run around Morganville in the dead of night, knocking on my door.

Five minutes, Claire promised. Then Ill go. Please. I never did anything to hurt you, did I?

He stared at her for a few cool seconds, and then stepped back and held the door open. You, too, Detective. I hate to leave anyone with a pulse outside of shelter this evening.

Ill bet, she thought. Olivers peace-and-love hippie act no longer worked on her. Amelie had a kind of noble dignity that let her get away with pretending concern; Oliver was different. He was trying to be like Amelie, but not quite making it.

And Ill bet that pisses him off, too.

Hess urged her across the threshold and followed her in. Oliver locked up, walked to the coffee bar, and, without being asked, began to put together three drinkscocoa for Claire, strong black coffee for Detective Hess, and a pale tea for himself. His hands were steady and sure, the activity so normal that it lulled Claire into