Home > Crowbones (The Others #8)(36)

Crowbones (The Others #8)(36)
Author: Anne Bishop

   He felt a shiver of relief to see an asterisk after Captain Walter Hargreaves’s name. He hadn’t worked with Hargreaves long before being sent to Sproing, but he trusted the man and needed the cooperation of the Bristol police force. And he knew there was some connection between Burke and Hargreaves.

   Another list came from Greg O’Sullivan, an agent in the governor’s Investigative Task Force who was working out of Lakeside. That list contained the names and contact information of the agents in the ITF.

   “Good work,” he told Viktor. “Print those out for me.” Then he reviewed the calls that had come in to the station, prioritized the calls, and distributed the food.

   As he sat at his desk to write a carefully worded message that would be sent to the men on those two lists, the word “urgent” kept bothering him. Why would Viktor say those e-mails were urgent? Important? Absolutely. But “urgent” indicated a need for immediate action. Was that the excitement of youth talking, or did Viktor need him to act within a timetable and was he pushing the information that would produce the desired result?

   Or was Grimshaw just too damn suspicious of everyone right now?

   Then again, someone who had come to the area recently was a target. Or bait. Or both. And for Wayne Grimshaw, that meant there was no such thing as being too suspicious.

 

 

CHAPTER 36

 

 

Julian


   Watersday, Novembros 3

   Grateful his new stock had arrived before the roads closed, Julian grabbed the handcart and reached the front of the store as Karol Sanguinati picked up the phone. He’d wondered about how Ilya had chosen which youngster for which “internship,” but it didn’t take long for him to understand the decisions. Karol didn’t have Viktor’s quiet confidence or maturity and had some trouble with impulse control, so the bookstore, where impulsive actions would have fewer consequences, was a better place for him to work than the police station.

   “Lettuce Reed,” Karol said. “How may I help you?”

   Julian watched the Sanguinati’s expression change from bafflement to wariness to something that bordered on fear.

   “I’ll find out,” Karol said. “Hold, please.” He put his hand over the mouthpiece and looked at Julian. “Someone wants to know if the story place is going to be open this evening.”

   “We’re closing at five p.m. for the next few days,” Julian replied. Then the words hit him. Story place.

   He leaped for the island counter and grabbed for the phone—and noticed how Karol partially shifted to the Sanguinati’s smoke form in response to his sudden move.

   Karol extended his arm to hand Julian the phone and maintain some distance between them.

   Julian took a deep breath to steady himself. “This is Julian.”

   “The story place is closing early?”

   He recognized the voice. The Five came into the bookstore once a week at dusk to do a used-book swap. They were the ones who had named the store. He didn’t know where they lived around Lake Silence or what they were in their usual form. He suspected they were some kind of Elder—and he knew they were not benign when they were encountered anywhere outside of his store.

   Until that moment, they had never used a telephone to communicate with him, and that set off his internal alarms. Anytime Elders did something unexpected, humans were at risk.

   “I am closing the story place early for a few days to assist Ilya Sanguinati while he investigates some trouble around Sproing and Lake Silence.” Julian prayed to the Lady of Lost Souls that he wasn’t putting Ilya in danger, but just the thought of the Five coming to the bookstore while everyone was stirred up and afraid gave him chills.

   “We are also assisting the Hunter.”

   The Hunter. He could hear the capital H.

   Given who they were, the Hunter was not Ilya. Which meant the Five were helping Crowbones.

   His mind raced, trying to figure out a compromise where the Five could exchange their books without coming to the bookstore.

   There was one way to do it.

   Gods above and below, am I about to gamble with other people’s lives?

   Julian snapped his fingers and pointed to the pad and pen on the counter. Karol pushed it within reach, still watchful but back to looking fully human.

   “I could bring a box of books to The Jumble that you could look at after dusk. Just like doing an exchange here at Lettuce Reed. Do you know how to find the main house at The Jumble?”

   “We know the place.”

   Of course they did. Their voices sang out of the dark as warning and threat.

   “I will call Vicki and ask if she can put out the books for you to look at, in case I’m not there when you arrive. The telephone you are using has a number. If you tell me what that number is, I can call you back to confirm the books will be there.”

   He held his breath. They had understood enough about phones to call the store, but that didn’t mean they knew the number of the phone they were using.

   Where did they get the phone they were using?

   A different voice recited the numbers. Julian wrote them down. “I’ll talk to Vicki right now and call you back in a few minutes.”

   A final whispered instruction spoken in a tone that had never been directly aimed at him before.

   Julian hung up, surprised to see his hand shaking.

   Karol set a glass of water near the phone and stepped back.

   “Thanks,” Julian said, grateful for the water and wishing for something stronger.

   “Are you in trouble?” Karol asked.

   “No. I just need to call Vicki and make arrangements to have the store’s auxiliary location set up before dusk.” He felt a bead of cold sweat roll down his spine. “Why don’t you open the boxes of new books and put a couple of each title on the counter for me to look at? Then you can pack up the new books I select while I put together a box of used books that I think will be of interest. After that, we’ll arrange to get the boxes to The Jumble.”

   “You’re afraid.”

   Julian wondered what to say to this young predator who would tuck away everything he said. “They’ve come into my store every week since I opened Lettuce Reed, and they have never harmed me. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t dangerous.”

   “That is true of all terra indigene,” Karol said.

   “Yes,” Julian agreed. “It is.”

   He called Vicki, mixing apologies and explanation—and emphasizing the one instruction that would prevent her guests from being slaughtered. He called his special customers and confirmed that there would be books available in The Jumble’s library room to exchange or purchase.

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