Living with the Dead Part 22

"Hope," Karl said, getting her attention. "Control it." Karl said, getting her attention. "Control it."

"Sorry. I'm fine." Hope s.h.i.+vered.

"a.s.shole," Robyn muttered.

Karl's gaze swung her way, as if he'd heard. She imagined Damon's chuckle. I don't think he expects insults after rescuing you, Bobby. I don't think he expects insults after rescuing you, Bobby.

"Come on." Hope tugged her arm.

Robyn glanced at Karl, who'd turned away, dismissing them as he scanned the forest.

"He'll be fine," Hope said. "We need to go."

Um, Bobby, if the dude wants to play he-man, that's his problem. Get the h.e.l.l out of there.

Robyn unlocked her knees and let Hope lead her through the undergrowth. After a few steps, Hope slowed, her chin lifting, that same blank look crossing her face. Robyn took her elbow, but Hope yelled "Karl!" grabbed Robyn and yanked her back.

"d.a.m.n, she's good," said a voice in front of them.

Robyn froze and squinted into the darkness. It was another moment before the man stepped out of the trees, right in their path. Clutching a gun, Hope stood between Robyn and the man.

Where the h.e.l.l did Hope get a gun?

"Guess I can't sneak up on you, can I, demon-girl? So how does that work? You catch a vision, right?" He lifted his foot, easing forward. "You see me coming."

"Stop," Hope said.

"Have you got silver in that gun? Because if you don't "

"I don't need silver bull " Hope glanced over at Robyn, then back at the man. "Just stop."

Karl stood a dozen feet behind Robyn. He seemed to be measuring the distance between himself and the man, gauging whether he could get to the guy before he pounced on Hope. His jaw tightened, as if he didn't like the answer.

"Hope?" Karl said. "Back up toward me."

Hope didn't move. Robyn couldn't see why she had to she was holding a gun on an unarmed man.

"Hope?" Karl's voice sharpened to a razor edge.

Robyn shot a glare at him.

"I don't think she wants your help, old man," the other guy said. "She's having too much fun. You like a little danger, don't you, babe? Gets your motor revving."

Hope's eyes were glittering again. Sweat sparkled across her cheeks and forehead. She breathed fast through her mouth. Not fear, Robyn realized. Excitement.

"Got a real l.u.s.t for trouble, don't you, babe? How hot are you right now? I bet you're so wet "

Karl snarled, an inhuman sound that sent Robyn spinning to look at him. He strained forward, face twisted with rage.

"Karl." It was Hope's turn to snap a sharp warning.

Robyn tensed for Karl's reaction, but he only murmured, "I know, I know," then rolled back on his heels. "Just back up. I'll be okay if you back up."

"Am I making you nervous, old man? Why? Just because I could break her neck before she fired that gun? Don't worry, babe. Killing you isn't what I have in mind. How about a deal? You come along with me. See how much more fun you could have with someone your own age. We'll leave the old dog with blondie. She's more his speed."

"Do you want him, Karl?" Hope asked.

"Yes, please." Karl's words were a growl.

"Robyn, step back. I've got you covered, Karl."

The younger man just stood there, smirking, like a wolf listening to the foolish little rabbits plotting to overthrow him.

"Be careful," Robyn said. "He's fast and he's a lot stronger than he looks."

That made the man laugh. "Really? Fancy that. What the h.e.l.l are you teaching these girls about werewolves, Marsten?"

Hope's gaze shunted to Robyn.

"Or maybe at your age 'strong' is relative, huh, old man?"

"Karl?" Hope said.

"I'm right behind "

The man lunged. Hope did the same diving off to the side as she fired. The bullet caught the man in the side and he spun. Before he could recover, Karl tackled him and the two men went down.

"Robyn!" Hope scrambled up, gun trained on the fighting men. "Get back to the path."

The man wriggled out from under Karl. He sprang to his feet. Karl twisted out of the way. He grabbed the man on the rebound and threw him.

The man sailed through the air and crashed into the undergrowth fifteen feet away.

Robyn stared.

He threw him. Just picked him up and hurled him, like the guy did to me.

"Robyn!" Hope yelled. "The path."

Robyn couldn't move. As the man wobbled to his feet, Karl glanced over, blood streaming from his lip. He swiped at it.

"Hope? Get her out of here."

Hope looked from Karl to Robyn, clearly reluctant to leave him.

"N-no," Robyn said. "I-I'm okay. I'll "

The man ran at Karl. They hit with a smack that echoed through the trees. Karl's fist connected with the man's jaw with an even louder thwack thwack. The man howled in rage. His face His face changed. Rippling. Contorting.

Robyn was wrenched backward, almost off her feet. She looked to see Hope clutching her arm, dragging her.

"Come on."

"No, Karl needs "

"He doesn't need us."

When Robyn resisted, Hope heaved hard enough to make her stumble.

"He can't concentrate with us here."

One more backward glance at the fighting men, then Robyn let Hope lead her back to the path.

FINN.

Finn tried Peltier's cell number again and, again, got the message that the customer was unavailable, meaning it was turned off...

The plan had seemed straightforward enough. The woman who'd returned his call was almost certainly the person who'd killed Portia Kane and two officers, and Finn had her here, within a block radius. Sure, it was a block swarming with people, but the crowds were starting to thin and with Damon's ear for music, they'd used the background music to pinpoint where the woman had made the call. Of course she wasn't there when they arrived, but she couldn't have gone far.

Finn knew she wouldn't have left the fair, despite what she'd claimed that was just for his benefit, making him think "Robyn" was safely out of danger while he hunted for the scarred killer. She was here, and she was staying until she found Peltier.

So he just had to find her. He'd notified the backup team, now in place. But no one had the faintest idea what this woman looked like. Though her voice had sounded young, Finn knew better than to prejudge and had said only that she sounded under fifty. As defining factors went, that didn't help. In twenty minutes, he'd seen one woman over fifty.

He'd told Damon to pay attention to women who seemed to be searching for someone. But as the clock ticked past midnight and families cleared out, half the women seemed to be hunting for a spouse or a child.

Their best hope was that Damon would find his wife, and that that would help them find the woman. But there was no sign of her either. would help them find the woman. But there was no sign of her either.

Finally, at Damon's prodding, Finn had called the cell phone while the ghost climbed onto a trailer to search the crowds for a woman answering.

Great idea. Or it would be, if she hadn't turned off the phone. Finn had tried three more times since, to no avail. She wasn't stupid; she didn't want him phoning back for more details or, worse, insisting she meet up with him.

"If Bobby's here, she's hiding," Damon said as he hopped from his latest perch. "Which is smart, and what I'd expect, but it doesn't help us worth s.h.i.+t. I want her safe, but she'd be safer if we caught this b.i.t.c.h."

Finn grunted and kept surveying the crowd. Even if he heard her voice, he still might not recognize her, but he couldn't stop looking and listening. She was here, a cop killer, and this might be his best chance to catch her.

"We'll keep looking," he said.

Damon looked relieved, as if he'd expected Finn to declare the mission impossible and call it off. If this woman killed Peltier, she and Damon could be reunited in death, and maybe a lesser man would want that, but Finn could tell it hadn't entered Damon's mind. His life ended early; he'd never wish the same on the woman he loved.

"Wherever Bobby is, she'll eventually pop out for a look around."

They searched for fifteen minutes more. Finn called the cell phone twice, with no answer. As they rounded a corn dog stand, Finn reached for Damon's arm. Two teens turned to gawk at the guy clawing the air.

"You really need to stop doing that," Damon said. "What's up?"

"That girl over there."

Finn started to point, then stopped himself and turned the gesture into an awkward chin-scratch while jerking his thumb toward his target, getting more stares than he had by pointing.

"Man, we need to work on your subtle communication skills," Damon said. "You mean the girl in the cowboy hat? Yeah, it's d.a.m.ned ugly."

Finn lifted his cell phone, pretending to talk into it. "To my left, outside the fence. Light hair, yellow T-s.h.i.+rt..."

Damon squinted at the girl, then strode over, through people, through the fence, stood in front of her and yelled back, "This girl?"

Finn nodded. The girl woman, he supposed he should say was on the other side of the fence, walking toward the fair, coming out of a field beyond. Her strides were short and choppy, as if she didn't really want to be heading in this direction, but had no choice. Her scowl seconded that.

Damon strode back. "She doesn't look like the type to try sneaking in without paying, but if you want to alert security..."

"Do you recognize her?"

Damon looked back at the girl, now marching along the fence line. "Should I?"

"From the photo. The one on Robyn's phone."

"Uh, no, Finn. Sure, they're both blond and about the same age, but that is not not the girl in the dress " the girl in the dress "

"I meant the one behind her. In the photo."

"There was a girl behind the one in the dress?"

"A couple. An older man and her." He jerked his chin toward the girl, still marching, still scowling, still searching for a way back in.

"s.h.i.+t. Guess I'm not quite the sleuth I thought I was. I honestly never noticed anyone else. But if you think that's her..."

He didn't think; he knew.

"And you think it can't be a coincidence she's here," Damon continued.

Again, Finn knew knew it. "Look where she is. You said yourself she doesn't look like the sort to sneak in. And if she it. "Look where she is. You said yourself she doesn't look like the sort to sneak in. And if she is, is, she's picked a h.e.l.l of a spot. Everyone can see her. Besides, she's wearing an admission band." she's picked a h.e.l.l of a spot. Everyone can see her. Besides, she's wearing an admission band."

"Wearing... ? d.a.m.n. Missed that, too. I'm striking out tonight. What's she doing, then?"

"Or who is she looking for?"

Damon didn't seem to hear Finn, having already figured it out and started moving toward her, cutting through the crowds the way only a ghost could.

She was maybe twenty, average height and skinny with dark blond hair cut to her shoulders. With her mousy hair, long face and sallow complexion, she was the sort of girl you expected to see at a state college, walking alone, avoiding eye contact, books clutched to her chest.

She wasn't avoiding eye contact now. Her mouth was set in a hard line. As she found a gap where she could squeeze through the fence, she shot the onlookers a scowl that dared them to comment. At least a dozen people watched her, not one saying a word, all presuming if she was doing it so openly, she was allowed to.

Finn placed a call to dispatch, giving the girl's description and requesting immediate backup. "Immediate," though, wasn't going to be fast enough.

He intercepted her. "Miss?"