Spirit and Dust - By Rosemary Clement-Moore Page 0,24
the rock-bottom truth. There was no debate about whose side I was on. Maguire had bound me, but Alexis was my priority.
Where did Carson fit into that? He was still waiting for me to answer him about the key. Where was his loyalty?
Before I could answer him, something caught his attention. If a guy could prick up his ears like a dog, Carson would have alerted like a Doberman pinscher.
With startling speed, he palmed the key and shoved the tray of jewelry into my hands. “Stow that and close the safe,” he ordered in a murmur, then stepped around me, heading across the suite just as the door flew open.
“The cavalry is here.” Lauren’s voice carried around the bookcase that hid me, and the safe, from view. “Time for Elvis to leave the building.”
9
I COULDN’T EXPLAIN why I jumped to do what Carson said, except that I trusted Lauren less than I trusted him. Blocked from her view, I whisked the velvet-lined tray into the safe. I started to put the pearls back as well, but Mrs. Hardwicke’s voice stopped me.
“Take me with you.”
What? I asked her silently, my hand poised at the back of my neck. Why?
“I know what you are,” she said, in a weird mix of plea and direct order. “You must help Alexis. I can help you do that.”
From the other side of the suite I heard Carson say to Lauren, “It took them longer than I thought to get a warrant.”
He meant the FBI, and a lightning strike of hope lit my heart. Agent Taylor—the cavalry—was on his way.
I closed the safe and swung the painting to cover it, my brain running double time. If Lauren’s spell was working, Taylor still thought I was asleep on that smelly couch in the office. I needed to give him some kind of heads-up. Not for myself, but for my family. If anything happened to me, he would have to protect them from Maguire.
Could I leave him a clue and get my message across? Taylor hadn’t ever shown any sign of ESP, but he had instincts that were almost as good. While I had the chance, I unlooped the pearls from around my neck and unfastened the chain I was wearing in the same movement. The pearls I slipped into my skirt pocket, feeling Grandmama Hardwicke fade to a bare psychic stirring. My own necklace and pendant I hid in my hand, just as Lauren called to me.
“Stop stalling, Red,” she snapped. “If you haven’t found anything by now, you’re not going to.”
I dropped the necklace—Saint Gertrude’s medal gleaming up at me—beside the bureau and hoped the detectives were thorough in their search. Then I hurried toward the door before Lauren or Carson came looking for me.
“Where are we going?” I asked warily. Maguire needed to stash me while the FBI was there, and I did not put it past him to have a dungeon.
“Out,” said Carson, giving me a nudge.
I followed Lauren into the hall. Carson lagged behind, and I hoped he still had the mausoleum key. Surely he would know it was important even if I hadn’t yet told him why.
“You two are going to check Alexis’s dorm room again,” Lauren told me. “Just don’t get caught. You can’t find Alexis if you’re in federal custody.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” said Carson, sliding out of the bedroom and closing the door firmly. Lauren gave him a talk-to-the-hand wave and disappeared to tend to her own duties, which worried me for Taylor’s sake. She’d better not put another spell on him.
Carson, meanwhile, took my arm and hustled me toward a back staircase, which led down to an enormous kitchen. Bertram was waiting with two coats and a set of keys. “It’s got a full tank,” said the butler, “and a six-pack of soda in the back, as you requested.”
“Thanks, Bertram.” Carson pocketed the car keys and slipped into one of the coats. He grabbed the second one, and when I didn’t move fast enough, wrapped it around me and shoved me toward the back door.
We froze at a sound from the front of the house—one of the goons answering the door, then the familiar murmur of Agent Taylor’s voice and the harder crack of Gerard’s demand.
I drew a breath to yell to him. Drew it, held it, my tongue making the T in Taylor. Then the geas jerked on my leash with boot-to-the-chest force. My shout came out as nothing but air and a grunting wheeze.