Carnival Page 14
Lou wanted to know.
But things could always go wrong on a hunt. Piper was smart and resourceful. Lou herself had been impressed by her survival instincts more than once in their short acquaintance. But tonight she was Lou’s responsibility.
You’re bringing her along. You keep her safe.
Lou suspected it was the weight of responsibility that caused the strange knocking in her chest after they deposited Piper’s backpack on her kitchen counter.
“Oh, let me pee,” Piper begged. “It’ll only take a second.”
Lou stood in the apartment, noting its tidiness and charm. It had high arched windows and hardwood floors. It reminded her a little of Konstantine’s loft in Florence’s city center.
She pushed this thought away as the faucet in the adjacent room squeaked off.
“Okay,” Piper said, wiping her hands on the sides of her jeans. She crossed to the door and turned the bolt, locking them inside the apartment. “I’m ready.”
Lou stepped toward her, sliding one hand up the girl’s back. She pulled them both through the dark.
Lou’s boots settled on solid ground first. Piper’s balance tilted, but Lou held tight until she settled on her feet. A relieved little sigh rolled past the girl’s lips as Lou released her.
They looked around, trying to figure out where her compass had brought them.
Lou stepped forward, aware immediately of the cavernous space around her. The sound of her boots on concrete echoed in a way only possible with high ceilings.
Lou took another step forward as headlights whipped around an adjacent aisle. It was followed by the recognizable beep beep beep of a machine backing up.
A tug on her arm made her turn. Piper pointed at a door on their right. A strip of light shone through the cracks surrounding it as well as one port window high in its face.
Lou exited first, willing to take the brunt of any danger they might intercept in the light.
She understood immediately why her compass had chosen the adjacent storeroom. The grocery store was brightly lit with its overbearing bulbs beaming down from above.
To her left was a dairy case full of stacked yogurts, tubs of cream cheese, butter, and plastic-wrapped cheeses lined up in their individual dispensers. On her right began the cases of milk.
Fish was in front of the milk. He had the door propped open with his hip as he read the label on a bottle of fat-free chocolate milk.
“He is a monster,” Piper whispered into Lou’s ear. “Fat free?”
Lou elbowed her slightly, crossing the aisle. Piper followed suit, showing profound interest in a box of aluminum foil on the shelf at eye level. Lou realized they didn’t have hand baskets or shopping carts. She pulled a package of napkins off the shelf and held it loosely in her fist.
Piper seemed to have the same idea. “I’ll get a cart.”
As soon as Piper rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight, something in Lou’s chest relaxed. It was one thing to put herself so close to Fish. Even though she knew what he was and what he’d done to at least a dozen women, she wasn’t afraid of him. In fact, that self-destructive core inside her, that part that wanted to throw herself from the cliff and see if she could survive the fall, leaned toward Fish like frostbitten hands toward a fire.
But on top of this old, familiar desire to put her hand in the flames was a new and interesting impulse.
Piper wasn’t his type. She was the right age, but she was blonde. Lou didn’t think Fish had ever hunted or killed a blonde, based on the photos she’d seen. Still, she found herself wanting to keep Piper behind her.
Why did I bring her?
Because Piper had worried her, hadn’t she?
The moment she’d gotten the page, a tug in Lou’s stomach had caused a jerk of worry in her guts. Once she’d seen Piper for herself, realized it was a social call and not a cry for help, she’d still been left with Piper’s sad, lonely expression.
Lou grabbed a box of plastic forks from the shelf and placed them on top of the napkins.
She replayed the last few months in her head as she trailed Fish from the dairy section into the baked goods. He plucked a box of brownie mix from the shelf, and Lou recalled the cake she’d received from Piper last month. It was the second birthday cake Piper had given her. And what had Lou given Piper for her birthday?
Nothing.
She wasn’t even sure when it was.
There was nothing she had consciously done to nurture this affection—no gift giving, certainly. Yet Piper had been doggedly kind and generous, sometimes about the simplest things.
She’d given Lou the remote when they’d watched television. They’d sat on Piper’s couch watching a show about a serial killer who killed serial killers.
“I feel like you’d connect with this guy,” Piper had said, plopping a popcorn bowl into Lou’s lap.
They had day trips: San Francisco, New York, Chicago, San Diego, London, Paris, and Kyoto.
Why had she taken Piper? Usually because the girl had made some small remark about wanting to see a landmark or a building, or to eat at a specific restaurant.
Do you know they have a sculpture in Millennium Park that’s shaped like a bean? It’s called Cloud Gate.
San Diego is supposed to have some of the best beaches.
Have you ever had New York pizza? Real New York pizza?
What’s the Eiffel Tower look like at night?
But she had never asked Lou to take her. She’d never expected Lou to use her power—a talent that came as easy to her as thinking. Lou had wanted to show her.
They’d been friends for almost seven months when Lou learned that Piper had never actually left the city except for a spring break vacation to Panama City her junior year of high school and another vague trip about which Piper had left out a great many details, except that she’d driven her friend Henry out of state to visit his sister.
If there had been a particular moment or gesture that had created this friendship, Lou had missed it. Now it was simply here, as if it always had been.
“Psst.”
Lou jumped, turning away from Fish, who was exiting the end of the aisle.
“Whoa,” Piper whispered. “Did I scare you?”
Piper searched her face as she pushed the cart to a stop beside her. “You okay?”
Lou focused on the cart. She was surprised to find it half full. A bag of potato chips, a box of breakfast pastries, two packages of cookies, and a two-liter bottle of soda sat in the bottom of the cart.
Lou arched a brow at her.
Piper smacked her lips. “For authenticity. Wouldn’t you be suspicious of two people following you with an empty cart?”
Lou put her forks and napkins in the cart beside the soda.
“I’ll push, you stalk.” Piper wagged her eyebrows.
Lou took her time exiting the aisle. She pretended to read the signs as her eyes roved. She spotted the familiar button-down shirt and loafers farther up the center aisle. She started after him, working to close the distance. When she felt like he was within range, she slowed again, pretending to look at an end-cap of pink lemonade in colorful tubs featuring bright summer scenes that didn’t match the winter pressing against the store windows.
Fish pushed his cart into checkout line number six, even though it was noticeably longer than both lines four and five. The cashier saw him the moment he pulled into her line and gave him a tight smile.
Fish’s spine straightened immediately, as if he was pleased by the attention.
Lou turned to Piper, who was reading the box of breakfast pastries. “Is it trans-fat or saturated fat that’s bad for you?”
“Why don’t you push the cart over to the bathrooms?” Lou nodded at the sign beside customer service. “I’ll be over in a minute.”
“Got it.” Piper pivoted the cart in that direction.
Fish was now only two patrons from the cashier. Lou decided to grab a magazine off the rack in the checkout line next to his
and pretended to read an article about an actor’s supposed plastic surgery. Lou looked at the glossy photographs without seeing them. Behind her sunglasses, she flicked her gaze toward Fish, who’d finally reached the cashier.
She watched the exchange.
He was bouncing lightly on his feet as he spoke to her. Excitement? Contained joy? The cashier looked as tired as the first night Lou had seen her. Her makeup hid dark circles, but not the puffiness caused by lack of sleep. As she made change, her gaze flicked up to meet Lou’s.
Then it slid away.
Fish pushed his cart toward the exit, and Lou crossed to the bathroom.
Piper was frowning. “I’ve got something to show you.”
“It’ll have to wait,” Lou told her, and grabbed her wrist, pulling her into the bathroom. “Come here.”
The door hadn’t closed all the way when Lou flicked off the switch. In a stall, a woman cried out in surprise, but Lou was already pulling them through the dark.
They were in the alley beside the exit. The sharp cold hit her cheeks instantly, and Lou had a passing thought that they couldn’t linger. Piper wasn’t dressed warmly enough for an Ohio winter.
“We won’t stay long,” Lou whispered into her ear as Piper began to shiver.
“I’m okay.”
The swoosh of automatic doors opening caught Lou’s attention. Fish appeared with his shopping cart. He’s practically running to his car, she thought.
Once the back end of the SUV was open, he threw the sacks into the trunk the way she’d seen a worker throwing bags of dog food onto a pile.
She would have smiled, amused by his desperate movements, but again she felt like she was looking through an opaque glass, seeing only the reflection of herself inside. She didn’t like it.
Piper tugged on Lou’s sleeve, three sharp yanks, and Lou turned.
She was pointing at a woman, alone with no cart, exiting from the same door Fish had. When she saw that Fish hadn’t yet climbed into the driver’s seat, her steps faltered. She slowed and veered off to the right. She tucked her chin down as if to hide her face.
Strange behavior, Lou thought, for someone leaving a grocery store.
She regarded the red hoodie and slight build and recognized the familiarity.
Fish was already backing out of his parking space and speeding in the direction of his home. Lou searched the compass within her but felt no danger. Maybe he would cut himself tonight. Maybe he’d fuck his wife a little more roughly. Lou was curious to know how he’d handle the aggression bubbling inside him.
“It’s too dark to get her picture,” Lou said, watching the woman climb into a red Honda and turn the key. She also drove in the direction of Fish’s house.
“Good thing I got a picture when we were in the store,” Piper said, and gave Lou a devilish grin.
“When you sent me to stand by the bathrooms I spotted her. I saw her when I went to get the cart too, and both times she was watching Fish.”
Lou frowned, thinking she’d done a pretty good job of not being too obvious.
“I’ve got a good one of her face.”
Piper handed over her smartphone so Lou could look at the picture more closely. There was something familiar about her—her dark complexion, her features.
“I’ve seen her before,” Lou said, frowning at the picture. “I’m pretty sure she was outside Fish’s house the other night.”
“Why would another woman be stalking him?” Piper asked, and Lou had the distinct impression she was asking herself, not Lou. Sure enough, the answers came immediately. “Maybe she’s a reporter who’s on to him. Or maybe a detective. What do you think?”
Lou was kind enough not to point out that not every person sneaking around was a reporter.
“We’ll find out who she is,” she said.
“Yeah, we’ve got recognition programs for that, don’t we?” Piper’s teeth were chattering.
“Come on,” Lou said, and wrapped her arms around the girl. They’d done what they could tonight. “Let’s get cocoa.”
“I love cocoa,” Piper said with a sniff.
“I know.”
19
King opened the fridge and considered his dinner options. It was after eleven at night, but he was hungry. The shelves weren’t entirely bare, but nothing screamed eat me. There were the usual suspects, half-used condiments and a gallon of milk. There were two wrapped steaks that he’d planned to grill for tonight’s dinner before he’d decided on takeout—drunken noodles with chicken.
He decided on the noodles, vowing to do some proper grocery shopping tomorrow.
Takeout box in hand, he closed the fridge.
Piper and Lou stepped forward.
He squeezed the box so hard the lid popped off. “Christ.”
Lady barked in response. The short yap came from Mel’s apartment across the walkway.
“I’m fine!” King called, turning his chin toward the door. “It’s just Lou.”
Piper threw up her hands. “Who the hell am I?”
Since there was no follow-up bark or scratching at his door, he assumed that Mel had shushed the dog.
He regarded the two of them. “Is there not enough shadow in front of my door for you to knock?”
“On the balcony there is,” Lou admitted, shrugging in her leather coat. King noted his tired face in her reflective sunglasses. He grimaced. “We wanted to see if you were awake.”
“And it’s cold out there.” Piper tossed an empty Styrofoam cup into King’s trash.
“Where have you been?” he asked, frowning at the cup. He didn’t recognize the logo stamped in red lettering across the compressed material.
Lou pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head. “Fish.”
“But plot twist!” Piper pulled her phone from her pocket and pushed buttons wildly. After a moment of delighted humming, she turned the phone so King could see the screen. “Someone is already following him.”
King accepted the phone, setting the carton of drunken noodles on the counter. “Are you sure?”
“Totally.” Piper pointed at the face, grinning triumphantly. “She was doing what we did. But she had salsa and chips.”
King looked up, frowning.
“We found him in the grocery store,” Lou clarified.
Piper bounced on her heels. “We had a cart and everything. We were like real detectives. It was so cool.”
King couldn’t help but smile. Piper’s enthusiasm was contagious.
“And you found her following him too?” he asked, frowning at the grainy photo. He tried to enlarge it, but that made it worse.
“Yeah,” Piper said, coming around to stand shoulder to shoulder with him. “She followed him in the store and then out into the parking lot. Then she got in a red Honda and followed him out of the lot.”
“We don’t know she was following him.” Lou took the carton of drunken noodles and sniffed it. “We stopped tracking them in the parking lot. They could’ve been heading in the same direction. Or not.”
King squinted at the phone. There was something familiar about the face, but he couldn’t place where he’d seen it before. He forwarded himself the picture, and heard his own phone buzz on the coffee table in the other room.
“So can you do it?” Piper asked.
King looked up from the photo and found them both looking at him expectantly. He felt like he’d missed something. “Do what?”
“Can you run the photo and find out who she is?” Piper asked.
King shrugged. “I can try, but I don’t have access to the same databases that I did when I was active with the DEA. And since Sampson told me to back off, I’ve tried to stay off their servers illegally. I can call in a favor and ask someone to do it, but you know what they say. Three may keep a secret if two of them are dead.”
“Right. Someone might wonder why we’re looking into her.” Piper bit her lip.
“Why can’t you ask Konstantine?” King asked, handing over the phone. �
�He’s far better at finding people than I am. This picture is more than enough for him to get what he needs.”
Lou’s warm grin evaporated. She turned away, crossing to the balcony door. She gazed out at the light as if suddenly very interested in the raucous celebrations below.
Piper pocketed the phone. “Is this our case or not?”
King arched an eyebrow, hoping Piper would elaborate. But she only shook her head and shoved the carton of noodles into his hand. “Don’t let us interrupt your dinner.”
King pulled a plate from the cabinet, dumped the noodles onto it, and slid the whole thing into the microwave.
So was there trouble in paradise? Were things not lovey-dovey between Konstantine and Lou? He had no idea what their relationship even looked like, or if it was officially a relationship at all. But she’d saved his life when the whole world hunted him, and he’d turned up when Dmitri Petrov had hunted her.
They could be friends, Lucy’s voice chided gently in his mind. Friends protect friends.
You haven’t seen the way they look at each other, King thought. I sure don’t look at my friends that way.
The microwave beeped, and King retrieved his noodles and soda and took both to the sofa. “So you’ve nothing else to report on Fish?” He forked noodles into his mouth.
Lou turned from the balcony. “He’s cutting himself.”
“If he’s cutting, he’s trying to numb out.”
“Is that common?” Lou asked.
His fork scraped the plate. “As a coping mechanism? Sure. Anything to stave off the craving a little longer. One guy burned his arm whenever he was trying not to kill.”
“Did it work?”
King snorted before forking more noodles into his mouth. “What do you think?”
“These records smell like weed.” Piper crouched down in front of the stack leaning against his speaker. “Is this where you keep your weed, because man, it’s not even subtle.”
“How much longer before he caves?” Lou asked.
“Some killers go years without killing. Maybe he’ll slip into a dormant period.”
Lou turned away, effectively ending the conversation. There was something in the hard set of her shoulders that told King to drop it. He didn’t take it personally. If she had a problem, she’d speak her mind. She was too much like her aunt to give him grace for long.