soon as we get him moving again.” She came toward Rule. “I can take Cullen in while you get things straightened out with these boys. They’re scared,” she said, her voice balanced nicely between sympathy and scorn. “You might try looking a little less like you plan to rip out their throats.”
He’d thought he was. “I’ll stay with Cullen. He isn’t in any shape to be around so many strangers at the moment.”
“Ma’am,” said the guard with the cuffs, “you have to get back right now.”
The Rhej ignored him and looked down at Cullen, who lay motionless, his eyes bright and intent and not at all human. She nodded. “I see what you mean. You know me, though,” she told Cullen reassuringly. “I won’t leave you with strangers, no more than Rule will. Belle? We need Rule to stay with our patient.”
The other woman wore scrubs. She was shorter, heavier, and older than the Rhej, with skin a half shade darker and a face whose lines mapped out weary cynicism. She was light on her feet, though, as she came forward. “Harold, put up the damn gun.”
“Get back, Belle! You don’t know what they’re capable of.”
“I know what you’re capable of, and it don’t include putting a bullet in me just ’cause you’re feeling twitchy.” So saying, the woman put her broad body between the guard and the gurney. “Take him in, boys.”
“LILY!” Deborah’s pretty eyes widened. “Is it—is Fagin—”
“Fagin?” It took Lily a second to figure out what Deborah meant. Of course—she’d have seen it on the news. “No, he’s fine. Or he will be, I guess. I haven’t heard anything lately. I need to see Ruben. It’s urgent.” The wind had picked up. Lily wished for a heavier jacket and tried not to shiver.
“Of course.” Deborah’s gaze flicked to Scott, who stood behind Lily. He’d insisted on going in with her. Couldn’t guard her from the car, he’d said. It wasn’t important enough to argue about, so Lily hadn’t. “This is Scott. Scott, Deborah Brooks.”
“Ma’am,” he said.
Deborah opened the door wider. “Come in.”
Lily walked into warm air that smelled like chocolate chip cookies.
“He’s in the kitchen,” Deborah said, and started down the hall. Her low-heeled shoes clicked on the hardwood floor. “What’s going on?”
“Trouble. I need to tell him about it quickly.”
“I see. I’ve got a fresh pot of coffee, and cookies in the oven. You take your coffee black, I think?”
“I do, but I haven’t got time. But thanks.”
“I’ll pour a cup. You can ignore it, if you like.”
Hinting wasn’t working. “I need to talk to Ruben alone.”
“We don’t always get what we think we need, do we?” Deborah’s voice remained pleasant. She didn’t turn around.
Should she insist? God knew her news would affect Deborah as well as Ruben, so maybe the woman had the right to hear it. But Lily didn’t know Deborah well. She didn’t know how she’d act or react, especially if Ruben did run. She’d be questioned relentlessly. If she gave Lily up . . .
“We have company,” Deborah announced in an overly bright way as she entered the kitchen.
Lily began to think she’d interrupted an argument.
“Lily!” Ruben sat at the breakfast nook at the west end of the room. A built-in-banquette curved around the table; two chairs were tucked in at the front. He looked tired.
A timer dinged. “Ah, that’s the cookies.” Deborah veered for the oven, grabbed a hot pad, and opened the oven door. Scent washed out. “She says she comes bearing trouble. I’m going to pour her and her friend some coffee.” She smiled at Scott as she set the cookie sheet on a cooling rack. “Do you like cream or sugar?”
“Nothing for me, thanks,” Scott said.
“You’ll have cookies, at least.”
“Deb,” Ruben said as he eased out of the banquette and stood. “They’re not here for cookies. Ah—Scott, is it?”
Lily nodded. “Scott White. He’s one of Rule’s people. Ruben . . .” Lily glanced at Deborah, who was pouring the coffee she was so determined to offer. “I got a call from Anna Sjorensen ten or fifteen minutes ago. They traced the dagger used on Bixton.”
“That ought to be good news. I’m guessing it isn’t.”
“They traced it to you.”
Ruben’s face went blank. Deborah dropped the cup she’d just filled. It smashed loudly.
Ruben spoke slowly. “I assume there’s a warrant for my arrest. Are you serving it?”
“No! No, I came to warn you because, ah—because of everything we discussed the night of the barbeque.”
He nodded. “Deborah knows about my visions.”
“They