Crucible Steele (Daggers & Steele Book 5) (24 page)

“How did he die?” I asked.

“Pardon?”

“Griggs,” I said. “I saw it on Cairny’s clipboard when I first snuck into the dungeon. She wrote that his windpipe hadn’t been sufficiently compressed for him to have died from asphyxiation, but that was a preliminary report. So how
did
he die?”

“You really want to know?” asked Steele.

“What do you mean?” I said. “Of course I do. It could be important.”

Steele paused. “Cardiac arrest.”

I blinked, though it didn’t change my vision in the least. “Huh?”

“It makes sense if you think about it, Daggers,” said Steele. “He was old and his heart was weak. You add the intense fear of being confronted by a professional hit man, plus a restricted airway? His heart gave out before the killer could finish the job.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Really. Cairny’s positive.”

I sighed and pressed a hand to my forehead. I’d banked on the mystery of Griggs’ death to lead me somewhere, but
cardiac arrest?
I’d been sure it must’ve been poison or drugs or dark magic.
Anything
other than natural causes. But I trusted Cairny, and to be fair, Griggs
was
old. Ancient, really. I’d chided him about it constantly. Still, he’d always been such a tough buzzard. I guess I thought the reaper alone would never take him. Ultimately, it made no difference. If his body hadn’t failed him, then the killer would’ve soon finished the job. But given his tough-as-nails persona, I was sure he would’ve needed some final jolt before he’d kick the bucket.

I paused and blinked. It couldn’t be that easy…but it would explain a lot. Everything, really.

Somewhere outside my cloud of thought, I heard footsteps.

38

I stood and turned, and in the distance I saw…something. Not total darkness. I took that as a good sign.

“Come on,” I told Steele. “This way.”

I fumbled in the dark until I grabbed her hand, then headed in the direction of the light. As it grew, I made out the corridor through which I’d entered and beyond that, the rusted iron gate. I approached it, and there, coming toward us on the other side, were a familiar pair of faces.

Rodgers led the way, lantern in hand. “That you, Daggers?” His eyes widened. “Holy mother of…
Steele?”

“It’s a package deal,” I said. “Hooray!”

Quinto rushed the gate. “Steele! Oh, thank goodness you’re okay. I’m so sorry. We never should’ve left you outside the warehouse alone. You should’ve come in with us, lookout be damned! Why if I—”

“It’s alright, Quinto,” she said. “We came to the decision together. You guys had no idea what would happen, nor did I. And I’m fine. Or I will be as soon as you spring us loose.”

Quinto tested the gate, but it didn’t budge. “Hmm…locked.”

“You think?” I said. “Or perhaps Steele and I decided to hang out here in the dark for the fun of it.”

I gave my partner a glance. I mean…there had been the kiss—both of them—but I didn’t think Rodgers and Quinto needed to know about them at the moment.

“Don’t get snarky.” Quinto eyed the thick metal bars. “I wonder if I could break it down. Depends if the gate is moored to the bedrock or not…”

Rodgers set his lantern down. “Step aside, big guy. Let me give it a try.”

I gave Shay a nudge with my elbow. “I hear he’s been working out.”

“Funny.” Rodgers reached into his coat and produced a leather wallet, which he opened to reveal a multitude of shiny steel tools.

“Since when have you carried lock picks with you?” I asked.

“These?” said Rodgers. “I don’t know. Months. Years, maybe. I never get to use them because you and Quinto are always so intent on employing brute force.” He knelt down and got to work. “So, how’d you locate Steele, Daggers?”

“By using a keen combination of wit, intuition, and careful planning,” I said.

“Mixed with a heaping portion of dumb luck,” said Shay.

“Dumb
luck?” I said. “Why can’t it be
smart
luck? That’s where the planning comes into play, after all. And aren’t you supposed to be playing the role of the relieved damsel in distress?”

Shay’s eyes twinkled. “I never took theater as an elective.”

I heard the clank of the gate’s latch. Rodgers stood and tugged on the metal bars. The door swung open.

Quinto clapped his partner on the back. “Good work, pal.”

Rodgers winced under the heavy blow. “Yeah. Anytime.”

“So, what now?” asked Steele. “I don’t suppose you brought backup with you and set someone to trail Daggers’ Wyvern contact?”

Quinto shook his head. “Nope. We didn’t exactly foresee this turn of events. And we never considered splitting up to do what you suggested. Not after…well, you know.”

I glanced at Rodgers and Quinto, then Steele, my brows furrowed.

My partner caught my look. “What is it?”

I shook my head. “Oh…sorry. I forget that despite your psychic training and womanly intuition, you can’t
actually
read my mind. But we don’t need to track Cobb. I know who killed Griggs.”

My friends erupted in a chorus of surprise.

“What?”

“Huh?”

“Who?”

I pointed a finger at Steele. “It was what you told me about Griggs. The cardiac arrest. I believe you and Cairny about that being what killed him. But Griggs wouldn’t have gone out like that. You never knew him. He was too tough. The guys can attest to it. Something had to have shocked his system. And that’s when I realized it. Lazarus killed him.”

“Again, who?” said Steele.

“Left-eye Lazarus,” I said. “He’s this crazy kook who lives in the municipal cistern. My Wyvern go-between, the one the Captain referred me to.”

“The Captain has Wyvern contacts?” asked Quinto, incredulous.

“Trust me, I
will
explain this all eventually,” I told him. “The point is, now that I think about it, it all makes sense. Cobb even told me as much. The Wyverns are smugglers. They operate underground.
Literally.
Through the cistern. That’s how they move goods around the city, and how they get those same goods in and out of port. Trust me, I studied the cistern’s blueprints. There are overflow outlets that connect to the river Earl. Two of those are by West and Smith. That’s how they got their shipping containers on site without anyone noticing. That’s how they smuggle.

“And there’s more than that. Cobb—you haven’t met him, but he’s pasty and pale. Why? Not because he’s always up at night, which is what I first thought, but because he spends all his time underground. And he always wears oil-slicked knee-high boots. I thought they were a fashion statement, but I should’ve known better after I got mocked for my own galoshes that one day. The point is, the Wyvern base must be in the cistern, and Laz must be one of them. He’s how the Wyverns knew who I was. They knew all along. He told them.”

I clenched my fist. “Which means he lied to me. About the Wyverns. About Griggs, who he undoubtedly murdered. And he must’ve lied to the Captain. About everything, for decades. Abused his trust and played him for a fool.”

That last part bothered me. It had to be true—otherwise why would the Captain send me to him? He couldn’t have known. The only other explanation was that the Captain was in much deeper than he admitted to me, and I couldn’t believe that. Not after him looking me in the eye and telling me what he did. I wouldn’t.

But if Lazarus was our murderer, it begged another question: why didn’t the man kill
me
when he had the chance?

“Hold on,” said Steele. “I’m sure you’re onto something, because when you get this way you inevitably are, but am I missing a key point? How did this Lazarus guy give Griggs a heart attack?”

“Right. I forgot to mention that,” I said. “Lazarus is an electromancer.”

Jaws fell.

“Precisely,” I said. “It’s why I assumed he lived in the cistern. He’s clearly paranoid about being found—which should’ve been another clue. He’s set up a rig with metal poles descending into the water. He can fry anyone who approaches him, and you can’t sneak up on the guy because of all the splashing you make walking though the half-foot-deep water. Which reminds me, Steele. You know more about the supernatural than any of us. How would you take down a lightning mage?”

Shay blinked and looked at me as if trying to figure out if I was being genuine. “Um…with numbers?”

“Seriously,” I said.

“I
am
serious,” said Shay. “It’s the lightning rod method. One person with a pike charges and takes the brunt of the blast and everyone else follows close behind. It’s either that or you get the drop on them.”

“Which is hard because of reasons I’ve already mentioned.” I shook my head. “Well, we’ll have to give it some thought. But we don’t have time to waste. The Wyverns are up to something, and if I’m right in regards to timing, it must be going down soon, otherwise they wouldn’t have imprisoned me with Steele. We’ll get moving and think on the run.”

I motioned my crew forward. We hustled down the hall, back to the rotting stairs, and started to climb them. We’d made it three-quarters of the way to the top before I heard the heavy creaking of boards overhead, and with them, a familiar hair-raising voice.

39

“Cobb? You here, Cobb?” he called, his voice muffled by the walls.

We all froze on the steps, and his name escaped my lips.
“Bonesaw…”

“Who?” whispered Steele.

“You don’t want to know.” I chewed my lip and looked at my friends. “You all stay here. I think I can defuse this alone. But keep your ears wide open. If it sounds as if I’m in a jam, that’s the time to show yourselves. And trust me, if it comes down to that I’ll need the help.”

Quinto nodded, knowing I meant that last part for him.

Rodgers raised the lantern. “Want this?”

“Keep it,” I said. “Better if he doesn’t see me coming. Better yet, shutter it before I leave.”

Rodgers did as I asked. I took a step toward the door.

Shay grabbed my arm. “Daggers. Be careful, will you?”

I started to say, “Always,” then stopped myself. I routinely ran into danger headlong, despite the fact that I had people in my life who cared for and depended on me. Tommy, especially, although Nicole seemed to be doing a stand-up job raising him without my input. But now, for the first time since my divorce, there was a woman in my life I didn’t want to lose—and it wasn’t a purely professional relationship any more.

“I’ll do my best,” I said.

I pushed on the door and slid back into the abandoned house.

It was dark. Apparently, Bonesaw hadn’t brought his own lantern, but moonlight filtering through the boarded windows gave me just enough to see by—not that I needed light to locate the ogre. I heard him banging around the back, in the kitchen area beyond where I’d met Cobb.

I slipped around the corner. Bonesaw peeked into an empty room, beyond the folding table and chair that sat there, his back to me.

“You’re late, pal.”

Bonesaw jumped and cracked his head against the door frame. He turned and snarled. “I’m getting
real
tired of you sneaking up on me, you know that?”

“Sorry,” I said. “Figured it was a job requirement, so I thought I’d brush up on it.”

“Where’s Cobb?”

“Just missed him,” I said. “Left maybe fifteen or twenty minutes ago.”

“Without you?” Bonesaw lifted a brow. “Guess that means you failed. There’s hope for me yet.”

I took a shot in the dark—metaphorically speaking. “You can drop the act, Bonesaw. I know the whole thing was a setup.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“The crucible. The challenges. Everything. I know the Wyverns laid it out for me on a silver platter, only to pull the rug out from under me at the end.”

Bonesaw took a step toward me. “You’re not making any sense, Baggers, but what
is
coming through is a whole buncha sore loser talk. I don’t know about you, but I waited a long time for this opportunity, and I’m in dire straights. So maybe you’d better stand aside and tell me where Cobb went so I can win this damned thing once and for all.”

Was I wrong? Perhaps the crucible challenges hadn’t been rigged. If so, I’d won them all legitimately. I felt like patting myself on the back, but I didn’t—mostly because I didn’t understand where Bonesaw was coming from.

“How do you plan on winning the competition without Droot’s finger, big fella?”

Bonesaw lifted a hand. In the darkness I hadn’t noticed it, but between his meaty digits he held something. Long. Thin. With a glint of blood and metal and jewels. A finger.

My breath shortened. “That’s not Droot’s.”

“You sure about that?”

I couldn’t be. However… “It’s not his ring. I know that for a fact.”

Bonesaw tossed the finger on the table as he took another step forward. “What does it matter whose finger it is? Or whose ring it is? It’s just gotta convince Cobb.”

“That’s not going to fly,” I said, not mentioning I’d done much the same.

“Baggers, Baggers,” said Bonesaw with a shake of his head. “You think I only started bending the rules now? I told you, I need this position, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get it. If that means chopping off a few fingers or eliminating some competition every now and then, so be it.”

Eliminating competition?
“Wait… Kyra got to Flex first, didn’t she?”

Bonesaw smiled, and a shiver ran down my spine. “You catch on quick.”

“What did you do with her?” I asked.

The ogre ignored me and took another step forward, trailing his hand along the side of the folding table.

I took a corresponding step back. “What’s your angle? Why are you telling me this?”

“Maybe it’s because I’m vicious and cruel and I get a rise out of seeing the look on your face,” said Bonesaw. “Or perhaps it’s because it’s dark and we’re alone and I know you’ll never live to share the news.”

Bonesaw’s arm whipped forward, and the table flew at me as if it weighed no more than a coffee mug.

I was ready. I dropped and rolled as the table crashed into the wall behind me, pulling Daisy from my jacket in one smooth motion.

Bonesaw flew toward me with a speed that belied his size. I danced to the left and lashed out with Daisy, catching him across his knuckles. He howled and swung a fist. I dodged and lashed out again, this time slapping him on the forearm. He acted as if I’d rapped him with a ruler.