Rusty Nails (The Dade Gibson Case Files) (11 page)

“That is a very distinct possibility,” Louise admitted.

“I don’t think there are any answers in the crypt,” Dade said. “If there was anything, it’s gone now. I’m going to find this boy instead. He sounds like a major piece in this puzzle.”

Louise Hartwell sighed. “I’ll check with some of my contacts to see if they know anything about the boy.”

“That would be helpful,” Dade said.

Louise cracked a small grin. “It kind of feels like we’re partners, doesn’t it?”

Dade’s face remained blank. “I’ve never had a partner threaten me or my family, and I’m not about to start now.”

“Oh, I’m not threatening,” Louise said, this time with a little more anger in her voice. “I’m just making sure I’ve got a little insurance. Understand?”

Dade knew exactly what she meant, and that’s what scared him the most.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 22

 

 

“Dade’s going to kill me when he finds out I came here by myself,” Liz sighed.

“He might, but only if someone doesn’t beat him to it first,” Pyriel said.

Liz sighed and thought about crying. But she knew it wouldn’t do any good. She rubbed her wrists and ankles and tested her weight before she stood up. She staggered at first but eventually found her feet.

“Why are they holding us here?” she asked.

“Leverage,” Pyriel said. “If your boyfriend knows they’ve got you, he will probably do whatever they want. They will have the upper hand.”

“Who is
they
?”

Pyriel shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not sure who is behind all of this. I only know that we’re caught in the middle of a civil war.”

“Ok, so you’ve answered the question of why they’re holding me. Why you?”

“Why else? To recruit me. Once I’m fully addicted to the guilt drug, I’ll be a slave to them and forced to do whatever they want me to do.”

“Where does the drug come from?”

Pyriel paced the small room, spreading his wings, thinking. “The angels are engaged in civil war, and someone has instigated the whole thing. Oz behind his curtain if you will. The source of Rusty Nails is still a mystery. No one’s sure where it came from or who manufactures it. But you can bet that whoever is behind it is responsible for the war. It’s the key to all of this.”

Although she still wasn’t completely comfortable with Pyriel, she took a step toward him as the heavy thud of electronic drumbeats from the club wormed its way through the cinderblock walls. “So how did you know to come here?”

“I followed the addicted. All roads seem to lead back to The Zodiac Club. I came here looking for answers. I came here thinking that I might find the man behind the madness.”

“Surely you don’t think a man is behind all of this. If the answer was that simple, you’d be scoping out meth labs and dark alleys. But you’re not. You’re here.”

Pyriel rubbed his feathered brow. “I guess it’s not likely that any human is behind this. But who would have something to gain from pitting angel against angel?”

“That’s way out of my league,” Liz replied. “I’m ignorant about angel politics.”

“I just wish I knew more about what’s going on.”

“I take it, then, that you haven’t found out anything either.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Pyriel responded. “I did learn that Richard Edgemore is the owner of this club.”

“Richard Edgemore?” Liz said, more than a little surprised. “That can’t be a coincidence.”

“Why is that?”

“Louise Hartwell hired us to find his bones. Any idea what her motivations might be?”

“Well, first off, nobody calls her Louise Hartwell. To all the angels around here, she’s Mama, a tough-talking drug pusher who supplies them with Rusty Nails.”

“She’s a dope dealer?”

Pyriel nodded. “Richard Edgemore was one of the pushers who could get the angels what they wanted. I think it’s safe to assume that Mama’s looking for what’s left of Edgemore’s stash.”

“That still doesn’t explain why she hired Dade to find his bones. It’s not like a map to the drugs is chiseled into his femur or anything.”

“No, but in the right hands, they can provide a lot of answers. Without a proper burial, Richard Edgemore will be condemned to a life of limbo, stuck between this world and the hereafter. He’ll give up the location of the drugs just to find a sense of peace. If whoever questions him knows what they’re doing, they’ll get the answers they want.”

“After seeing Louise Hartwell blow an angel’s head off with a high caliber handgun, I’d say it’s safe to assume that she’s ruthless enough to do something like that. Of course, that still doesn’t explain why she pulled the trigger in the first place.”

Pyriel rested his forehead against the wall as he contemplated the reasons. “It’s becoming harder and harder to get the drug now. Nobody knows how to make it and nobody’s really sure where it comes from. Richard was the distributor. He never told who supplied him and nobody asked so long as they got what they wanted.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I think it’s becoming pretty clear that Mama’s about to run out of Rusty Nails. She probably stages a deal, takes the money, and then shoots the customer so she won’t have to deplenish her supply.”

“Smart. And she still gets the money.”

“It’s a dangerous business,” Pyriel said, running his hands over the rough stones, hoping for a way out. “There is nothing smart about it. She’s in over her head.”

“And Dade’s involved in almost every aspect of this.”

“How deeply is he involved?”

“Hip deep.”

“Edgemore’s remains were being kept in one of the rooms here. I saw the bones with my own eyes before they caught me and injected me. Maybe if we got our hands on them we would have something to bargain with.”

“So angels are to blame for the theft of the remains,” Liz said, putting the pieces together.

“It would seem that way, yes. Rumor has it that Samael’s got a voracious appetite for the drug. In fact, Mama’s is his supplier. I’m sure he’s doing all he can to make sure he doesn’t run out any time soon.”

“Samael?” Liz said as the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place.

“The angel of death.”

“That’s the real reason she shot that angel in the hotel room then. She’s afraid of what Samael might do to her if she doesn’t have any of the guilt-drug to satisfy his fix.”

“She’s a smart girl to be afraid of Samael. The angel of death isn’t an angel you dismiss easily.”

“Dade’s in real trouble, isn’t he?” Liz asked hesitantly.

“I’m afraid so,” Pyriel said. “We are too if we don’t get out of here.”

“I understand the motive behind getting you addicted to Rusty Nails. That’s a strategic move on the rebels part. Sort of like a recruitment drive. What I don’t understand is why they’ve locked you up. If you’re one of them now, you should be out fighting for the cause.”

Pyriel sighed. “I was a member of the highest order of war seraphim. I was one of God’s elite. The addicted are naturally suspicious of me. In the past, I was the one who upheld the laws of Heaven. Now, I’m the one breaking them. They’re still not sure what side I’m on. They’re suspicious of tricks. It’s easier to just lock me up and see how I react than to let me roam free and potentially destroy everything they cherish.”

“But you’re not on their side, right?”

“I’m kind of in between sides right now,” Pyriel admitted. “I’ve sinned and distanced myself from God. But that doesn’t mean I’m against Him. More than anything, I want to resume my rightful position in the kingdom. That will require atonement and forgiveness. That is what I want more than anything else.”

“I think a good way to begin would be to break us out of here. Don’t you think?”

Pyriel sighed. He was involved with this woman’s troubles whether he wanted to be or not. In a way though it was a welcome relief from his own problem with the addiction. In fact, if he focused all his energy on breaking the two of them out he might actually forget about the need. He doubted it would be that simple. But it was enough to be able to hope again.

“Let me handle this,” he said. “I’ll get us out. It’s the least I can do.”

 

 

Chapter 23

 

 

Leon didn’t answer his phone when Dade tried to call him, and neither did Liz. Dade wasn’t really worried about Leon. Liz was a different story. It wasn’t like her to ignore her phone, and that break from routine was enough to put him on edge. Especially with all the other crazy stuff that was going on.

Hoping she might have sent him an e-mail, he booted up his computer and checked his messages. None of the ones in his inbox were from Liz. However, there was a note addressed to him from someone named Samael. The name was enough to make him pause.

The e-mail was flagged with a glaring red exclamation point. Dade double-clicked on the e-mail and saw that there was an attachment. With a trembling finger, he opened the e-mail and tried to catch his breath.

“I’m tired of playing games here. I know you’re linked to Louise Hartwell, and like it or not, you’re now linked to me. I’ve heard stories about you. That’s why I approached you earlier about the job. The dead are my specialty, and I can call them at will. Your father was more than willing to cooperate. He knew what I was capable of if he refused to crawl out of the pit at my request and talk to his dear sweet son one last time.”

“You will kill the boy like you’ve been asked to,” a caption beneath a picture of Liz read. She was in what looked like a dungeon of some sort. The flash revealed just enough to show drops of blood at her wrists and ankles where she had been bound and struggled to get free. “Otherwise, we will do as we please with your dear, sweet Liz. No more games. No more charades. This is as simple as I know how to put it. KILL THE BOY!”

Dade was speechless at first, and then he was angry. He slammed the keyboard down on his desk, dislodging a few of the keys. Then, he grabbed his guns. He didn’t have a clue where to start looking for Liz or the boy, but he wasn’t going to just sit around while his world crumbled to bits.

Thinking ahead, Dade quickly saved the pictures of Liz to a flash drive and scanned the Polaroid of the boy which he also saved. Then, he grabbed his leather jacket and headed out to find the only person in town who might be able to help him sort this whole mess out: Leon.

Chapter 24

 

 

Bums and winos nestled in the dark alleyways like moles hiding from the sun, and, for once, Rush was glad to be among such smelly company. Granted, the body odor of a couple of drunk old men wouldn’t be much camouflage, but he supposed that it was better than nothing under the circumstances. The war angels, of course, had a keen tracking ability, but there were limits to their intuitions. Meaning, if he stayed on the move, they would have a hard time keeping up with him.

Although he was tired of running and tired of masquerading as someone he wasn’t, Rush had sense enough to know that Midael, the stiletto angel, would be looking for him. Things had been progressing much too well to let it all crumble down around him now. The drugs had all the angels in an uproar, and they were fighting each other without regard to the consequences. He had been waiting for this for quite a long time.

He could hear the beat of wings on the air and could smell the fresh blood on Midael’s plumage. The assassin was close.

Rush had any number of options available to him, but none were very appealing as they would all involve the casting away of the pitiful frail shell that had kept him hidden for so long. He needed to buy time, but Midael was among the best trackers in all of Heaven and earth. It was going to be difficult to fool him. Still, Rush knew every trick in the book. Maybe that was because he had authored every page.

The bums looked at him strangely as he approached them. They were huddled around a steel drum that was alive with flaming trash. Their hands were held out to the fire while a bottle was being passed around.

“You guys look cold,” Rush said slyly.

“Get outta here, kid,” one of the old men said. “We don’t want no trouble.”

“I can help you get warm,” the boy said.

“And I can help you get lost,” the old man said. “Now beat it.”

Rush blew the old man a kiss.

“Hey, don’t start with that funny business,” the wino said nervously.

The other men backed away from him nervously like they were fearful of catching some dreaded disease. A worried look passed across the old man’s face like a fleeing animal. And then the stench of burning flesh made him tilt his nose to the sky. That was right before he realized the stench was coming from within.

Like the head of a match, the man burst into flames, fiery bits and pieces of him showering those around him in a disgusting rain. Wherever the fire touched, it caught, and soon all four of the bums were a screaming, lunatic chorus. The gagging smell of sizzling skin and roasting flesh was sickening. It was just enough to throw an angel’s senses into a tailspin. Rush walked away, satisfied with himself, thinking not for the first time that the shrieking of burning men ranked right up there with the most beautiful of operas.

Once the beating of wings on the air started to grow louder again, Rush threw open the door that led to the kitchen of an old abandoned restaurant and ran inside. He knew it wouldn’t be long before they figured out where he was. Until then, however, he was going to make the most of it.

He shrugged out of the skin as if it were a raincoat. And then he stretched his wings, grateful to be free, if for only a few moments.

 

 

Chapter 25

 

 

The thing that confused Abbadon, the watcher, the most about this mysterious child was the sheer inconsistency of all involved parties. He had watched the boy knowingly addict a wounded angel to Rusty Nails, simultaneously healing him and turning him away from God. Yet Samael and his goons were the ones who were trying to kill him. They were the bad guys in all of this, the ones who should have openly supported such a defiance of God. Nonetheless, Midael was obviously out to kill the boy. And his allegiance was to Samael. Which meant that the angel of death had some reason for wanting the child out of the way.

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