Cold Moon Rising (32 page)

He sounded a little shell-shocked when he replied, and I guess I would be too in his place. That will speed up this discussion, I suppose.

I would have snapped my fingers together if I had any in wolf form. Oh, by the way, anything in your legend about a weird obsidian blade? I came by one today on another case and it’s definitely of Sazi origin. Or, at least, it affects us by cutting off pieces of our magic aura, which hurts like blazes. Anything you’ve heard about?

There was a pause long enough that I wondered if we’d been cut off, but since all I wanted to do was sleep anyway, I figured I might as well let myself drift off. He’d either wake me or he wouldn’t. I already had plenty to discuss with Lucas and Charles in the morning. My eyes eased closed just as I let out a slow breath that blew bits of white fluff into the air. Hmm. Actually—

I pulled over the remaining wing and put my muzzle down into the soft feathers. Perfect. A goose down pillow. It’d feel a lot better on my skin than mud and wood when I changed back in the morning

Pain. An ache of something missing inside.

I opened my eyes and I was back inside the cave where Ahmad was. Except Ahmad wasn’t there. It was empty, silent even of insects. I felt my hands being pulled to the cool stone wall. They flattened and pressed and the ache filled me again. There was no heartbeat, no fire to warm the bodies of what used to live here. I got a flash of the cave again, but filled with jungle life—bugs and bats wandering through the depths, monkeys playing in the cool shade, eating fruit and grooming.

And then the ache when it was taken.

Wol . . . Tony? Ahmad’s voice shattered the image, and it fell to shards of color on the floor of my mind. I blinked my eyes again and I was back under the tree.

God! What? I sounded grumpy, even to myself. I wanted to get back to sleep. I don’t know why I was dreaming about the cave, but it wasn’t a bad dream, as things go. Sort of a mental Discovery Channel special, which is often what I go to sleep by anyway.

I had to leave the cave to check on some things. Are you already aware of them, or should I tell you?

The quiet night sounds of the wetlands were lulling me again, so I wanted to get this over with. Tell me.

Nasil found documents that indicate there’s a second temple and we all agree that Paolo might have taken the egg there to hatch. But strangely, it appears to exist on the East Coast of America somewhere. I wasn’t aware the Mayans extended their territory that far. I know of some burial mounds in the Midwest that could conceivably be attributed to Mayan descendants, but a temple?

Okay, he’d managed to get my attention enough that I was awake again. Geez, I can be dense sometimes. No. Not a temple. A casino.

A cas . . . Explain.

So I did. I told him about what had happened to Carmine and the new gang of . . . duh! Central-American guys. It was all clicking in my head now. I’m betting this Paolo of yours is either legit in some part of his life, or knows someone who is. They didn’t find a temple, they’re building one! It’s called Quetzalcoatl and is being raised in Atlantic City. Carmine said the new gang is into drugs and didn’t Nasil say something about a lab down there maybe exploding?

Even more pieces were falling into place and Ahmad picked up where I left off. The Order of Marduc likely has many tentacles. My father would have seen to that. So, at some point they must have decided to expand their drug selling into your former employer’s town. They were pushed out, but didn’t understand the Mafia culture there and killed someone important.

I found my head nodding, the moonlight now making my brain race even faster, instead of slowing it down. And Carmine, of course, immediately ordered a hit of someone there. But the hitter Carmine sent got greedy and took a knife that’s critical to raising Marduc, which is the knife I have now.

I could tell Ahmad agreed, but there was one kink in the theory. Except nobody here knew anything about a knife. Either it’s not involved or was something the priests of the order were aware of that they didn’t tell anyone about . . . even Sargon.

Or, I amended, maybe they just found it. You said nobody had breached the wall to get to the egg until recently. Could it have been in with the egg? An offering of some sort that they’re not quite sure what to do with? But it would still be sacred and they’d want it back.

Ahmad’s voice sounded pleased, not that I really cared. So, it sounds as if our destination tomorrow needs to be that temple. I’ll let Nasil know we fly to New Jersey.

Fly. New Jersey. Crap! That’s right. There’s one more piece to the puzzle. After you left, Angelique went nuts in the clinic when I said I was going to New Jersey. She kept repeating that she had to get there and it took Charles, Lucas, and Amber to sedate her. Amber wanted to run blood tests to find out why both she and you went berserk. She mentioned something to my wife about a virus or . . . a drug. What exactly were they making in that lab?

He paused and replied slowly, thoughtfully. I’d presumed regular street drugs, cocaine or heroin, but now . . . now I’m not certain. I’ll definitely check and get samples for Amber before we leave here. He sighed and I could feel a wave of frustration, tinged with fear, as though they were my own. I’ll have to confront Nasil. He is the key to most of this information. He was Father’s right hand and despite what I might have told Tuli, there was little he didn’t know about what Sargon did. I’ll advise you of the results.

I let out a little huff that would have been a chuckle in human form and inhaled another breath of moist, musty air. I’ll probably be there for it. I seem to get stuck inside you for the big four: food, water, survival, and sex. Just try to keep it to the first three for the next few days if you would.

The next noise might have been a cough, or maybe it was a mumbled swear word I couldn’t make out. But the rest was clear. I’ll keep that in mind. Good night, w . . . Tony. Your help has indeed been valuable.

I’d like to say he left and I was able to get back to sleep, but that wasn’t to be my life. Like the telephone ringing every time you step into the shower, I heard Sue in my mind next.

Tony? Where are you?

I sighed. Trying to sleep under a tree. What’s up?

I’m in Newark and rented a car. I was driving down the interstate and got the feeling you were nearby. Would you like to sleep in a bed tonight?

You’d think that would be an easy answer, but it wasn’t. There was nothing quite like falling asleep next to my mate, regardless of my form. But tonight I was feeling the moon like few other times in my life. It was powerful, compelling and yet comforting. No. I don’t think so. I’ve got my feather pillow and I’m comfortable. But hey, if you want to meet me at mile marker two-forty-six tomorrow morning, I could use a ride back.

I liked that it was okay with her. She didn’t question or whine. She just said, Okay. Love you. See you tomorrow.

My eyes drifted closed, and I successfully ignored the buzzing of my cell phone, set on vibrate. Yeah, I could answer it in wolf form. Touch pads are just made for pointed claws. But it was already sealed in the plastic bag where I’d put my clothes after I stripped. I’d have to tear it open with teeth and claws and then all my stuff would be damp in the morning.

But the knowledge that there were still things to be done made it so my mind wouldn’t follow my closed eyes down into the depths of the night. It’s interesting how things replay in your mind when you’re in the netherworld between light and dark.

All roads lead to New Jersey.

But what roads lead out?

My eyes snapped open in the darkness and I raised my head so fast I cracked it against the massive old root roof. The pain spurred my mind to full wakefulness. Where did Ricky and Stuart fit in? Yeah, they were Jersey guys, but they worked for Prezza, not the snakes. Or, was Prezza in with the snakes? But they weren’t looking for Scotty. They were looking for me. How did they get to Boulder and, in fact, how did they find out about our trip to Hansen, Kansas? Not a snowball’s chance in hell that was coincidence.

I opened the door in my mind again with a sigh, and uncurled my body out from the cozy nest under the tree. Sue?

She answered immediately. Yes?

Changed my mind. Can you come pick me up after all? I won’t be sleeping, though, I’m afraid. Did you bring your laptop with you, and does it have remote access to the Wolven files?

Her voice sounded amused, excited and curious. Sure, yes, and yes. I’m on the way.

Chapter Eighteen

“AND THAT’S WHEN I discovered this.” Another phone bill popped up on the laptop screen. Two items were highlighted in yellow. One was an incoming call from an international number. The other was an outgoing international call. But the numbers weren’t the same, not even the country code.

“What am I looking at?” While she’d made a compelling case so far that a current Wolven agent was on the take, this part wasn’t making sense to me.

She leaned back against the edge of the desk in the hotel room so she could look at me. I leaned back in the chair and gave her my full attention. “When Lucas asked me to pull up the phone records for each of the Wolven-issued phones, he asked me to look for any irregularities in the billing. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know it wasn’t just billing issues he was looking for. We still haven’t found the mole who planted all the trackers in things. It had to be someone high up in the organization. Regular agents just don’t have access to the stuff that was tampered with. So, I started looking for numbers that were called often and then cross-checked the dates with weird things in the files . . . you know, people supposedly in one place but got calls in another. That sort of thing.” She tapped the screen with one shiny fingernail.

“Look at the dates of the calls and tell me what you see.”

I did, and when she said it that way, I noticed something odd. “They’re exactly one day apart. Exactly. Down to the minute.”

She nodded and crossed her arms over her chest. “And so are the dozen other ones over the course of a year or so. I haven’t looked any further back yet. And check this out.” She turned around slightly and grabbed the mouse and moved the scroll bar down to the next pair of yellowed entries. “Every incoming call I’ve marked on this phone is a hang-up, like a wrong number . . . but it’s the same number. Lucas got a plan that lists the numbers, but doesn’t charge for the first ten seconds. That way, he can call and just say something like ‘Report in,’ and then they call him back from a secure number.”

I nodded. He’d done that to me more than once.

“Of course, it could just be something simple like spam calls. We have a few of those stupid investment companies that call week after week.”

She nodded and then grabbed another chair to sit down in. “I considered that. It would make sense except for those calls the day after. Every time.”

She was right. I scrolled down and call after call. One spam, one outgoing the day after of varying length, but around ten minutes. “Where does the outgoing ring to?”

“Our agent Rayna in Mexico City. A landline in her apartment. It’s definitely her number. I’ve called it to verify.”

“So you’re saying we’ve got two moles. Working together.” I tapped my finger on the tabletop and considered what to do with the information.

She shook her head. “I thought that too, but scroll down to the bottom. This bill came in just yesterday.”

I did and noticed two more highlighted calls and realized exactly what she meant. “Wait. This can’t be right. You’re sure it’s a landline? Rayna was a prisoner in the jungle when this call was made. She wasn’t anywhere near Mexico City.”

The look I got said it all. I didn’t even need the scents of determination and annoyance. “Precisely. Someone’s trying to frame her. I got her permission to do some checking around and discovered a Mexico City bank account in her name, in a different branch as her regular accounts, with a bunch of money in it. And a bunch of activity, too. Including one rather large withdrawal . . . on the same date as the last call.”

I put my hands behind my head and thought. “Wow. So this is your surprise. Quite the coup, sweetheart. Whose phone is this?”

She laughed brightly and stood up. “Oh, no. This isn’t the surprise. I wouldn’t have even brought it up to you if it wasn’t for the fact that you’ll probably have to verify to the council where Rayna was on the date of the last call. And I don’t know whose number this is . . . yet. Only Lucas and Charles have the list of numbers that match the agent names.” She walked across the room to the closet near the door and pulled out a large cardboard tube that you might mail documents in. “No, this is the surprise, and I was damned proud of myself for pulling it off.”

Now she had me curious. She opened the top of the tube and poured out the document onto the bed. I couldn’t help but let out a low, delighted whistle when I opened the thick roll of stapled papers. It was a blueprint . . . of the Quetzalcoatl casino! Pages and pages of details about the construction, including the lower basement—set below sea level, with a small room blocked off with a red ‘X’ and surrounded by pumps to keep out the seawater. “Oh, you have been a busy girl! Where in the world did you dig this up?”

She preened brightly. She should be proud of herself. This was just short of amazing! “Well, I tried the easy routes first. I figured they would have to file the plans with the building department there. They did, but nobody can seem to find the file. Big surprise that, if there’s really a plot going on. So then I called around to all the architects in the city. I found the right one, but of course they wouldn’t talk to me. But I remembered Will Kerchee was in New York for a law enforcement conference this week. It’s why he had to race to get back to work from the jungle. I called and told him that Lucas really needed those blueprints and asked if could do a little chore. I told him Lucas thought it up so he’d do it, but it was really my idea.”

She was turning into quite the little spy. My smile turned to a grin as she continued. “Anyway, I had Will call the architect, speaking Spanish, and asked to have another set of the prints sent over to the site. He said he tried to sound really annoyed and told them that some idiot got the plans too close to a cutting torch or welder or something. Anyway, they burned up and they needed another set immediately. Then he changed forms and flew down to Jersey and waited outside the architect’s office for the delivery boy to come out. He followed him for a few blocks until he was alone and froze him and took the prints. Did you know that Will can do magical persuasion? He made the poor delivery guy remember he’d delivered the package, so nobody’s even going to call to check! Well, until they get a bill for them next month, and we’ll be done by then.”