Keeper of the Moon - By Harley Jane Kozak Page 0,69
but they are unskilled in communication. They’re still traumatized, which is not uncommon in the case of violent death, especially murder. Also, where there is illness involved, there can be confusion and disorientation. They haven’t, well, settled yet. It’s particularly hard on Elven, who tend to live much longer lives. There is something so unfinished about the young ones who die. One thing seems clear. If I understand them correctly, the words ‘location, location, location’ are shared by all four of the dead women. It is what they had in common.”
“But they didn’t have it in common,” Sailor said. “They were killed in different places. Except maybe in Charlotte’s case, because we don’t know where she was killed.”
“Nevertheless, that is the connecting thread. They repeat it like a chorus. And they chatter at me, they send me...orders. ‘Look for the cap,’ ‘Return the call.’ One of them screams, ‘Listen to the messages!’ which is presumably what you’re attempting to do. Another insists, ‘Don’t go near the water!’ which I don’t expect you ever to do.”
Sailor sat in bed, hugging her knees to her chest. “But this is crazy,” she said. “None of that means anything to me. Is the Spirit world always so chaotic?”
“Not always, no. But consider with whom we are dealing—three actresses and an agent. While I love theater as much as anyone and more than most, thespians can be a bit high-maintenance and very dramatic. I should let you sleep, dear.”
“Yes, but would you—would you mind staying?” she asked. “Until I doze off?”
“Not at all,” he said kindly.
She thought she was too upset to sleep, but her body decided otherwise, and as the moon was setting she began to dream of cars on fire, of eyes glowing red and crows flying outside her window.
Chapter 12
The next day began with a ritual the cousins called the Morning Report. Over coffee and whatever passed for breakfast—the three of them were idiosyncratic in their eating styles—they discussed Keeper business, which usually devolved into girl talk. Today, though, their mood was uniformly somber.
“I realize it’s a cliché,” Barrie said, picking at a cheesecake Rhiannon had brought home from work the night before, “but you really can’t blame yourself, Sailor. You didn’t kill your friend, and you’re not responsible for the actions of some madman simply because you were his target.”
Rhiannon, flipping an egg in a skillet, shuddered. “I can’t even imagine what his family is going through. Brodie hasn’t been home yet. He spent the night with the investigative team. What an unholy mess.”
Sailor told them what Dennis had told her. “Have you ever heard of this Underground movement?” she asked, peeling an orange.
“Oh, yes,” Rhiannon said. “The Underground’s a coalition of the various species. We’re talking very small numbers. Dad said the Councils take no official position, as long as they stay off the radar, which is usually the case. As for the Ancients, I remember Great-Aunt Olga mentioning them, but I thought it was something she made up to scare us with. Keep us in line.”
Barrie shook her head. “No. They’re real. Or at least they were in the sixties, according to my research. They kept to themselves, lived off the grid and avoided mortals. It could be they’ve died out since then.”
“No, Dennis says they’re alive and I believe him,” Sailor said. “I think they know more about the Scarlet Pathogen than anyone else does, except maybe the killer himself.”
“I don’t suppose,” Barrie said, “that you’d consider staying home and letting Rhiannon and me use our resources to find these Ancients for you?”
“You know I can’t.” Sailor held up a hand as Rhiannon prepared to object. “I have so many leads to follow, so many pieces of this puzzle to figure out, and mostly I feel so awful about Julio. So, no. Staying home would be hell. If you’re willing to hit me over the head with a hammer, go for it. Otherwise, I have to be what I should have been for months now—a Keeper.”
“That is just crazy,” Rhiannon said. “At the very least, one of us has to be with you at all times.”
“I have to be in Pasadena at two,” Barrie said, “for a shifter Council meeting. This morning I’m interviewing Scott Donner, who Kelly Ellory worked under at GAA. It’s a story for the paper. I can try to change the appointment.”
“No,” Sailor said. “You blow off Scott Donner, he’ll never reschedule. And you may learn something important. Anyway, what I’m doing this morning