Her partner sobered instantly. “That’s a frightening thought.”
“You’re telling me.”
“No, Candace, it really is. If something is going on that’s so bad it’s gotten out of the Costases’ control? That’s—that’s bad.”
“What do you think it could be?”
“What do you think it could be?” he challenged.
She contemplated a second, chin between her thumb and forefinger, her mind whirring.
“With a body count that high, I’d have to guess a rival; a rival with equal power to Costas himself.”
“Go on.”
“How about you go on? You know anything about that?”
Gary looked decidedly uncomfortable. “Maybe. Heard rumors. No names.”
An idea seized, one that filled her with that little thrill she always got when she was onto something. Maybe sheer adrenaline. Maybe the thrill of the chase.
“C’mon.”
Spinning around, she headed back inside.
“Where are we going?”
“Back over every unsolved homicide in the past few months, starting way back with Ethan Wharton’s disappearance and that whole mess in the Botanic Garden. You know, the case we were told to shut down? The one we were sure Sean Costas’s head of security was tied to? That can’t be a coincidence. We’re going back over every victim’s life, job, and acquaintances with a fine tooth comb. If there’s something to be found, we’re going to find it.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?”
Gary was tailing her, but she could hear the reluctance in his voice.
“Don’t you want to know the truth? Find out what’s actually going on?”
“Not really.”
Candace caught the mumbled words, but pretended she hadn’t. She’d told Gary months ago she didn’t think she’d be able to let this go. She’d promised herself not to let it go, even when they’d been ordered to drop the original case that had introduced her to a world she hadn’t known existed. Maybe this was a gateway back into that world, into figuring out the unexplainable. Into bringing down Sean Costas, once and for all.
Chapter Seventeen
After leaving the meeting with Mr. Costas, I was at loose ends. I felt troubled, like I needed to talk to someone but didn’t know who. Part of me wanted to call my parents, but I couldn’t discuss any of this with them. Plus, I wasn’t ready to have that talk with them anyway; the talk about why they’d been forced to move again so soon. Carter was out, since he was likely still mad at me. There was really nobody else. As it turned out, James, who ran the tech side of the Costas Empire, chanced to find me when I was out on the massive back patio staring at the gardens, parts of which boasted early blossoms, thanks to the unseasonably warm weather.“Hey there, Ellie,” he said, startling me out of my thoughts—something along the lines of wondering for the millionth time how I’d wound up in this. James approached up a garden path, a mug of coffee in hand. “Heard you were back with us. How’s Carter?”
I did my best not to wince.
“Okay, I think.”
He stopped in front of me. “You think?”
“Well, all signs point to him healing well enough.”
I’d thought I was keeping my distress over the whole Carter issue concealed, but for such a high-level geek James was apparently pretty good at reading people. Or maybe I wasn’t doing as good a job as I thought at suppressing my emotions.
“But?” he persisted when I paused.
“No buts.” I tried to shrug it off. “He’ll be fine.”
“Are you?”
This time, I did wince at the pointed question. The way he was looking at me, his posture slouched but his dark eyes piercing, told me I wasn’t fooling him.
“I’m fine too,” I said, scuffing the concrete with my bare toe. I hadn’t thought to put on shoes before I stormed out of Carter’s room. I should have. I didn’t need anything else to make me look more redneck around here.
“Something’s off. It’s either with you or with Carter. Or both. What gives?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be buried in a computer screen somewhere?” I huffed a laugh.
“Nah, actually I was about to hop on the quad and go check a couple of our security cameras. They quit working last night, but the guys can’t figure out why. Maybe I can. You wanna come? You look like you need to get away.”
I glanced up sharply. “What makes you say that?”
“I’m a lot more perceptive than people give me credit for.” His mouth tilted in a crooked smile. “You in, or not?”
“I’m in.” I paused—“I need to go get my shoes, though.”
That would mean facing Carter. I didn’t want to face Carter yet. Maybe James was intuitive enough to guess that too.
“Nah, I’m on my way inside to get some tools. I’ll have someone bring some shoes for you. What size do you wear?”
“8 ½.”
“Be right back.”
I waited outside for him to return, taking slow, even breaths and trying to force the myriad events of the past few days from my mind by focusing on the heart of the Costas estate. It was magnificent. I’d been in the gardens before, when Mrs. Costas had invited me to go on an evening walk with her, but I hadn’t seen them in daylight. In front of me were hedges and bushes and rows of ripening pink and dark pink buds. Maybe Azaleas? Trees with thick trunks spread their branches over the entire scene. Somewhere back there was the massive pool and lazy river where Mrs. Costas had transformed into a mermaid before my eyes. Beyond all this was what appeared to be a pool house, tennis court, guest cottages, cabanas…more buildings than I could name. No telling what all they had. The property was vast, and encircled by a high wall, all the way around. Doubtless to provide protection from Nosizwe and her shifters, although, as I knew from personal experience, they could send in flyers.
Briefly, I wondered if Nosizwe had attempted any more blatant attacks against the Costas compound since that night last November when I’d first seen Carter change into the bronze Talos and his boss into a Minotaur. Carter had implied a war between Sean Costas and Nosizwe was currently ongoing, but when he’d demanded I leave his room he’d also said the house was safe.
I’m sure he’s got all kinds of extra security measures in place right now.
I didn’t feel unsafe—just adrift—but was still contemplating the matter when the French doors behind me opened, almost soundlessly, and James sauntered up, a pair of white slip-on sneakers in hand.
“Here you go,” he said. “Size 8 ½.”
“Thanks.” I dropped them onto the patio so I could slide my feet into them.
“They fit?”
They were a tad small, but I wasn’t going to run a marathon in them.
“They’ll work. Thank you.”
“No problem. Javier will have the quad up here in a second.”
“I’m surprised you’re doing something like this.”
“Why? Because I’m a computer geek who isn’t good at anything except techy stuff?”