I
remained stuck in place for a few seconds before self-doubt started churning. Had I imagined the eyes, the movement? I walked around the room, looking at the spot from different angles. Maybe it had been some trick of light, a play of afternoon shadows.
“I haven’t seen any sign of Gerry, and there’s no evidence of a struggle up here.” Alex came in from the hallway minus his boots and mask. “I took a sample of the blood to have it analyzed. Could be animal.”
I shushed him. “Try your tracker in here. I thought I saw something.”
He circled the room, holding the device in front of him, and finally stopped in the corner where I’d seen the eyes. “I don’t know. Might be a little stronger here but if there was something, it’s gone now. What did you think it was?”
I pulled off my own mask and eased my feet from the boots, although we’d already left black footprints everywhere. “Just a flash of movement, and eyes watching me from the wall by the
bookcase. And I felt a different kind of energy when I first walked in.”
“Energy like it was Gerry? Or like something else?”
“Don’t know. I can tell it’s there but not what it’s from.”
Alex touched the back wall, running his hands along the bookshelves, then checked the tracker again. “The signal’s not stronger here than anywhere else in the house. You sure it was eyes? We know something was here earlier, but the movement could have been a rat.”
I put both hands against the wall, feeling for the light prickle of magic. Alex was right; it was almost gone. But it hadn’t faded completely, and rats didn’t have a magical punch. Maybe some of my books on voodoo would help us identify what the drawings meant. Homework by candlelight.
On the left wall of the study hung a flat screen about three feet across and two feet high. I walked over to look at it, wondering if I could get it to work.
“What is that?” Alex asked.
“Gerry’s tracker—sort of the industrial-strength version of the one you have. If something gets summoned from the Beyond, a map pops up on the screen with the location. I thought maybe it could show when something had been here.”
He studied it, feeling around the edges. “How do you turn it on?”
“I’m not sure. I always thought the Elders powered it from their end.” I placed my hand on the screen and willed a jolt of energy into it. It lit and buzzed briefly, then went black again.
“We should take it with us.” He tried to pull the screen from the wall, and swore as it shattered and turned into a pile of crumbled glass.
“Nice,” I said. “What a muscle monster.”
“I didn’t pull on it that hard.” The enforcer actually blushed.
“It was probably warded to keep anyone from taking it.” I headed back to the desk. “It doesn’t matter. I doubt it would work for anyone but Gerry and my physical magic isn’t strong enough to power it.”
I pulled open the top drawer of Gerry’s desk, glancing at the back wall to make sure no more stray eyeballs showed up. Alex began pulling books from the shelves.
“Don’t worry about the books yet,” I said. “See if there’s anything in the attic we need to take out today. Sensitive material, anything overtly about magic or having to do with the Elders or Red Congress business. If you aren’t sure what something is, it’s probably better not to touch it. Let me come and look first.” I wasn’t sure it was wise to let Alex loose in Gerry’s stuff before I had a chance to dig through it, but at least the attic was unlikely to have anything recent.
Plus, I wanted the study to myself. If we were going to find clues about what happened to Gerry, they would be here. Every time I’d scried him after the storm, he’d been in this room and usually at this desk.
I had one other thing to look at first, though. As soon as Alex dropped the attic ladder in the hallway and climbed out of sight, I walked to the far corner of the room and pulled up a small area rug. The transport we’d set up between here and Gran’s house was still there, but an edge of the circle had been smudged out. The break was too clean to be accidental, so I added it to my list of mysteries.
I knelt beside the transport and put my hand on the chalk line, but that’s all it was now—just a drawing. I’d have to do some research and find a way to tell if the transport had been used. Obviously, Gerry hadn’t rerouted it to go somewhere else because it had been broken from this end. I replaced the rug, careful not to disturb it.
I returned to Gerry’s desk and began sorting through papers, occasionally checking the back wall for activity. Each drawer had been stuffed with documents, and I marveled at the sheer chaos of it. This was an awfully messy desk for a person I’d always considered a bit of a fussbudget. Gerry collected antiques, considered himself an aficionado of fine wines, and alphabetized his books by author. His desk drawers looked like they’d been organized by a squirrel.
Bills, letters, receipts. Correspondence, newspaper clippings, photocopies of photocopies. I’d have to take it all home to sort later. Nothing screamed
suspicious
.
Alex thumped down the attic stairs. “Nothing looks out of place up there, but lots of stuff will need taking out eventually. I did find some empty boxes we can use.” He walked in the study with an armload of flattened boxes and a rectangular leather case. “This was the only thing I wasn’t sure about.”
I set the case on Gerry’s desk and opened it to find a wooden staff about two feet long, heavily carved with odd, unfamiliar symbols. I’d never seen it before, so Gerry must have had it stashed in the attic awhile.
“Did you run the tracker on it?” I asked.
“Yeah, and it’s reading a little juice, so I didn’t want to touch it.”
I ran my hands along the wood. Red sparks spurted from its tip as I pulled it out of the case. It grew warm in my hand, and I traced my fingers along the unusual carvings—runes, maybe?
“You really think you should be doing that?” Alex leaned over the desk, propped on his elbows.
“Touch it and see if it does anything for you,” I said. “It feels pretty harmless.”
He looked at me suspiciously, then reached out and touched one finger to the wood. When he was sure he wasn’t going to
burst into flames or sprout horns, he added a few more fingers and ran his hand over the marks. “You never saw Gerry using it? Don’t Red Congress wizards use wands or staffs?”
I shook my head. “Some do, but Gerry never liked them. He has a ring he wears for channeling occasionally but he can focus his magic without it.” I returned the staff to the case and closed the latch. “We definitely take this thing with us today, though. As for the rest, let me pick the most sensitive to take now, and anything that might give us a clue to where Gerry is. We’ll have to come back for the rest once the water’s down enough to bring in the Pathfinder—if we haven’t found him by then.”
I stuffed all the papers into a box while Alex began sorting books into
take now
and
take later
stacks. I did my best to separate the task from the fact that we were dismantling Gerry’s house as if he were never coming back.
The oddest things stirred memories. A pipe in a desk drawer conjured the image of Gerry sitting in the living room chair downstairs, puffing away on it as he tried to get the hang of smoking. Tish teased him about it till he finally admitted he liked the idea of being a pipe-smoker better than actually smoking one. The first year I drew a salary from the Elders, just after getting my Green Congress license, I’d bought him a Meister-stück pen for his birthday. It lay on the desktop, and I picked it up, rubbing the resin and gold surface with its etched nib. He’d fussed at me for spending so much on it, then I’d caught him admiring it when he thought I wasn’t looking.
The memories knifed through the numbness and made my eyes burn. I stuck the pen in my pocket, moving to open the window and let in some air. Crying was for people who had time to be self-indulgent and I didn’t, not right now.
I watched a helicopter hover eight or ten blocks north at the levee breach, long pieces of metal hanging suspended beneath it. The Army Corps of Engineers was scrambling to shore up the
collapsed floodwall, and already people were wondering how much of this mess had been caused by the hurricane and how much by bad engineering. The Mississippi and Southeast Louisiana coasts had been devastated by the hurricane. New Orleans had drowned.
I turned at a noise behind me. Alex had taken my place at Gerry’s desk and was trying to pick the lock on the bottom file-cabinet drawer, the only one I hadn’t gotten to.
“Wait.” I nudged him aside and pulled out the top drawer of the desk, reaching underneath and retrieving the key Gerry kept taped to the bottom.
He rolled the chair back so I could open the drawer. Inside were small leather books—dozens of them. I picked one up, nose wrinkling at the slightly musty smell, and flipped through page after page of Gerry’s small, looping script. Journals. Each entry was dated, and several were illustrated with sketches of antiques and artifacts he’d bought. Maybe the weird staff was in here somewhere. I’d take these home and save them for him.
“Is there an entry for the day Gerry disappeared?” Alex leaned sideways in the chair and looked over my shoulder.
I examined the dates on the spines. “No, the most recent one ends last December. There are some gaps, though. The others must be stashed somewhere else.” Maybe if we found his last diary entry, it could prove Gerry hadn’t gone rogue. I should be able to look for him without also having to defend him, damn it.
Alex leaned back in the chair, scanning the desktop. His voice was casual. Too casual. “You
will
show it to me if you find it, won’t you?”
Distrustful oaf. “Of course. I’d hate to make you file a report with the Elders that I’d withheld information on Gerry’s disappearance.”
Alex frowned. “I’m not the enemy, DJ.”
I stood up and turned to sit on the edge of Gerry’s desk,
facing him. “But you’re not just here to be a sentinel either, are you?”
He looked at me steadily. “I’m here to be a
co
sentinel—to help you, not replace you, unless you really can’t do the job.”
Which he would decide, of course, the jackass. I knew more about sentinel work than this pseudo mobster ever would.
“I’m also here to investigate what happened to Gerry. It’s part of what enforcers do. The FBI training isn’t just an act.”
“You really think he disappeared on purpose, that he’s done something underhanded and, what, now he’s figured out a way to hide from the Elders?”
Alex sighed, pushed the chair back, and chose his words. “I think Gerry has a history of opposing the Elders, and they think this storm could have given him an opportunity to act on his beliefs. Maybe he did something, maybe he didn’t. That’s what I’m here to figure out. If something happened to him, and he’s de—” He stopped with the word
dead
halfway out, but it wasn’t like I hadn’t thought it myself.
“If he’s in trouble,” he said, “we need to know that too.”
“But you don’t think that, do you—that he’s in trouble?”
Alex gave an impatient snort. “I think if Gerry didn’t go rogue, he’s probably dead. I’m sorry to be so blunt. But if he was injured, the Elders would still be able to detect his energy field.”
The numbness returned, and my voice felt hollow. “You don’t know Gerry like I do. He complains a lot, I’ll give you that. He might even play the rules a little fast and loose, but he wouldn’t set himself against the Elders. He just wouldn’t.”
I didn’t have to ask what the Elders would do to Gerry if they decided otherwise. Treason carried a death penalty. Even humans didn’t tolerate sedition, and they were a lot less rigid than wizards. That’s the way it worked, and Gerry knew it. He wouldn’t take the risk.
Alex reached for my hand but I snatched it away and stuck it in my pocket, fingering my mojo bag more out of habit than need. He could shield his emotions as well as Gerry.
He leaned back in the chair again. “DJ, I like your spirit. You’re smart and loyal, and the fact you held off Lafitte as long as you did shows you can think on your feet. You might even be dangerous if you could shoot. But you have to at least consider all the possibilities where Gerry is concerned.”
I might buy a gun just to use at times such as this. “I will be open-minded if you will.”
He considered it. “Fair enough.”
We worked a couple more hours in tense silence, sorting out the study, and I moved on to Gerry’s bedroom. None of his clothes appeared to be missing. If he’d gone on a trip, he had packed light. He also hadn’t taken his toothbrush or razor.
When I got to the far side of the bed, I stopped and stared at the floor. The interlocking circle and triangle of a transport had been drawn on the polished wood in dark powder. The symbols were unbroken, as they would be in a permanent transport, or at least one that had been used. I stuck my hand in the field of energy that would have been created had the symbols been infused with magic recently, but felt nothing. The powder was fine and black, and I spread a little on my index finger, careful not to disrupt the figures. I held my finger to my nose and smelled smoke. Ash.