Jabril Read online

  "Yeah. Some guy who came around asking questions the day before you did. Old guy, buzz cut, smelled like cigars.” She made a face. “You pissed off?"

  "Honestly? I figured as much. Jabril's got old business with someone I did some work for awhile back. I think he's trying to fuck with that guy's head a little bit. It won't work, but Jabril doesn't know that. He also doesn't know that when I find Liz—and I will—I'm not going to be hauling her ass back to Lord fucking Jabril. We're going to hunker down somewhere safe, maybe with a nice view and a gorgeous spa, and celebrate her eighteenth birthday in style. And then I'm going to make damn sure she has a say in her future."

  "That'd be nice,” Kelli whispered. “But he'll take it out on her sister, you know. Mirabelle."

  Cyn gave a very unladylike snort. “Kid, you don't know your momma very well.” She chugged the last of her coffee, swung her long legs around and stood. “So, where can I find Jamie?"

  Kelli stood up. “She's not with Jamie."

  Cyn gave Kelli a hard look. “Where is she?"

  The girl bit her lip, then gave Cyn a lopsided smile. “She's in L.A."

  Chapter Ten

  "Damn.” Cyn sat back down, shaking her head.

  "Yeah, pretty weird, huh?"

  "Not the word that comes to mind, no. How?"

  "She's been planning it for a while. You know, getting money together and shit. She's got a fake ID that puts her over eighteen so she can get on an airplane alone. Couple of weeks she won't even need that anymore."

  "Why L.A.?"

  Kelly shrugged. “Why not? It's kind of like Texas, right?"

  "Not really."

  "Well, but, I mean it's sunny and everything, and everyone knows people are pretty laid back out there, so she figured it'd be easier to, you know, get a job, get a place."

  "Did Jamie go with her?"

  "Nah, they had a big fight about it. He wanted her to stay here, but Liz was totally set on getting out of Texas. I mean this is the state that gave her to Jabril in the first place, so why would she trust ‘em now?"

  "Why didn't Jamie want to go with her?"

  "His mom. He checks in on her once in awhile, and he's got a little sister who lives with his aunt. I think he feels responsible."

  "So Liz is alone out there. Can you get in touch with her?"

  "She checks this web site we use, but...” Her voice trailed off and her gaze skittered away uneasily.

  "But?"

  "I haven't heard from her. I mean it's only been a few days so far, but she left a message the first day and I haven't heard anything since then."

  "Perfect. Good planning.” Cyn rubbed tired eyes, trying not to snap at Kelli, trying not to imagine all the things that could happen to a seventeen-year-old girl on her own in L.A. “All right, listen—” She stopped as her phone rang, then frowned at the display. It was a local number, and not one she knew. On the other hand, it definitely wasn't the vampires calling. She flipped the phone open. “Leighton."

  "Ms. Leighton, Ramona Hewitt here. Can we meet?"

  Cyn's eyes widened in surprise. That didn't take long. “Sure,” she said to Hewitt. “Name the time and place, preferably before dark."

  Hewitt made a wordless sound of agreement. “Where are you staying?"

  "Four Seasons."

  "Well, well. Fine. They've got a lobby bar. You can buy a public servant a well-earned drink."

  "What time?"

  "Let's make it four-thirty. The sun sets early this time of year."

  "I'll be there,” Cyn agreed. Hewitt hung up without saying good-bye, so Cyn snapped the phone shut and turned back to Kelli. “Where was I?"

  "You were about to compliment me and Liz on our incredible planning."

  "Something like that, but done is done. If you hear from Liz, you call me right away, got it? I'll give you my cell number.” She dug in the backpack and pulled out one of her own business cards, writing on the back before handing it over. “If anyone asks, you tell them I gave it to you when I was out at the estate. In case you thought of anything that could help me, right? You tell Liz to call me, or give me a number where I can call her. Will she believe you if you tell her it's okay, that she can trust me?"

  "Probably. Yeah, I think so."

  "All right, but if not, give her that address.” She indicated the address of Jessica's House she'd written on the back. “The phone number's there, too. It's a shelter for teenagers on the west side of L.A., run by someone I trust, someone reliable. If Liz needs a ride to get there, they'll take care of it."

  "What're you gonna do now?"

  "That phone call was from Liz's caseworker. Everyone seems to agree that Liz trusted her, so I'm hoping she'll know something that can help me. After that, I need to figure out a way to get Mirabelle on a plane with me back to California, and then I'm going to find your friend Liz."

  Kelli's eyes were big as saucers. “He'll never let her go. Not Mirabelle. Even if Liz gets away, he's already got Mirabelle and her money. You don't know what he's like, what he'll do to her."

  "Actually, I have a pretty good idea, but I'll figure something out. I can't abandon her there."

  Kelli was looking at her as if she'd grown another head. “Why'd he call you? I mean, you sure don't seem to like vampires much, so why you?"

  Cyn stood again, her mind already working the problem of Mirabelle. “Like I said before,” she said distractedly. “He thought he could use me to get back at someone else. Unfortunately, that someone doesn't give a shit, so it won't work out the way he hoped."

  "A boyfriend, huh?"

  "No!” Cyn focused on the girl, surprised. “Why would you say that?"

  "Yeah, I can tell,” she said smugly. “It's a boyfriend thing."

  "Whatever. Listen, you've got a cell phone, right?"

  "Sure."

  "Give me your number.” She pushed the pen over and dug out another card, watching as the girl wrote her name and number in a childish hand, then took it back and looked it over. “Good. I've got to go. You'll be okay?"

  "No problem. I'm meeting some friends later."

  "And you'll call me if you hear anything? Anything at all."

  "Yep."

  "Okay. I don't know how much longer I'll be in Houston, but you can reach me on my cell phone wherever I am.” She slung the backpack over her shoulder and gave Kelli one last look. “Thanks for this, Kelli. It's a good thing."

  Kelli blushed and ducked her head. “Yeah, well. Liz is all right."

  "So are you. You make a mom proud.” She grinned. “Talk to you later."

  She hurried out of the museum, figuring she had just enough time to get back to the hotel and her meeting with Ramona Hewitt.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ramona Hewitt was already at a table when Cyn arrived. It had taken her longer than she'd expected to get across town because, contrary to the wide open image most people had of Texas, Houston was a big city, with lots of traffic.

  Hewitt looked worn out. Her neat-as-a-pin blue suit was wilted and the tidy hairdo had a halo of wisps that had escaped their rigid confinement. A glass of Scotch sat on the table in front of her.

  "I hope you put that on a tab,” Cyn said, pulling out a chair to sit.

  "I did."

  "Good.” Cyn signaled to the waiter who hurried over after leaving a trayful of drinks at the next table.

  "What can I get you ladies?"

  Cyn usually didn't drink, but today she'd make an exception. “I'll have an Absolut on the rocks, with a couple of olives and...” She looked at Hewitt, but the caseworker shook her head. Cyn pointed at the Scotch. “Can you put that on my tab and keep it open. Oh, and something to eat, maybe...” She grabbed the bar menu and perused it quickly, making a little face at the choices. “Far Eastern Bites, I guess, whatever that is.” The waiter nodded and took off, stopping at another table on the way.

  "Busy in here,” Cyn commented.

  "It's Friday,” Hewitt said. “People like to start their
weekend early.” She took a sip of her Scotch and Cyn noticed she was drinking it neat. A real Scotch drinker then, which Cyn hadn't expected. Hewitt seemed more like the sherry type to her.

  "So why didn't you tell me you cofounded Jessica's House?” Hewitt said.

  Cyn shrugged. “Because I didn't. That's Luci's baby, not mine. She does all the work. All I did was write a check."

  "Quite a big check."

  "No more than Luci's. She had this dream when we were in college to create a place where runaway kids could feel safe. More like an obsession, really. It was the only thing she ever talked about. I wasn't that dedicated, but I believed in Luci and in what she was doing. I'm not that much of a people person, so I took the easy way out and wrote a check."

  "And became a private investigator."

  "Well,” Cyn smiled slightly. “I became a cop first. Luci probably told you. Mostly to irritate my father, but I enjoyed it for a while."

  "But not forever."

  "No. Not forever. Like I said, I'm not much of a people person. I work better alone."

  The waiter arrived with her drink and the promise of food to come. Cyn waited until he'd left, then took a long sip of her vodka, feeling it smooth away the snarls of the day, a nice warm slide all the way down. “So. You called."

  "I did,” Hewitt said. “How much do you know about Jabril Karim and his outfit?"

  "More than most, less than some, I suppose. I know about vampires and how they work in general, their hierarchy and such. Jabril's got real power within their society, both personal and political. I wouldn't underestimate him. But as far as the two sisters go, Mirabelle and Elizabeth? I only know what I've been told, which isn't much. I can tell you without question Mirabelle is a virtual prisoner out there, and Jabril wants her money and nothing else. As for the Hawthorn Trust, it's a matter of public record, and I assume there are private assets as well. What I don't know is how he got ahold of her in the first place. He claims to be Liz's legal guardian too, is that right?"

  "Yes, it is.” Hewitt's jaw tightened in anger. “You may not believe this, but I tried to stop that from happening. I was the original caseworker assigned to the CPS evaluation, and I recommended strongly against granting that ungodly creature custody over those two girls. Just babies, they were. Fifteen and ten years old. What kind of a system would turn those children over to a monster like that? I didn't understand it then, and I don't understand it now. Even after what he did to Mirabelle, plain as day, no one said a peep.” She leaned across the table, one fingertip pressed into the lacquered wood for emphasis. “It's money, is what it is. The whole system's bought and paid for. A smart guy like Jabril—I may not like him, but he's wily as a snake—a man like that knows where to put his money to do the most good. Those girls never had a chance."

  "They didn't have any other family? No one with a better claim?"

  "A half sister up in Maine somewhere, from their father's first marriage. There was a lot of bitterness in the divorce and she was quite a bit older than the girls. I contacted her, but she wasn't really interested. You would have thought the money alone would bring her, but no. She had enough of her own, I guess. Or maybe she's one of the ten people left on Earth who don't care about money, I don't know. I recommended foster care. For all its problems, it would have been better. But I don't think the judge even saw my report. My former supervisor took the case over and the hearing was held in private, to protect the children's privacy, they said.” She snorted. “To keep the whole damn thing a secret, more likely. They handed those girls over and never looked back. Judge retired a year later, a nice fat pension and a vacation house in the Bahamas. My supervisor? She got a shiny new job over in the mayor's office. Bought and paid for, I say."

  "What's the deal with the money? The parents must have had a separate minor trust of some sort, in addition to the Hawthorn Trust. You can't turn over that kind of cash to kids."

  "No, indeed, the parents were smart. I don't think they figured on Jabril Karim sticking his nose in, but they did what they could. The trust takes care of each girl ‘til she's eighteen; they get all of the income until then, but can't touch the principle. At eighteen, each inherits fifty percent straight out. In Mirabelle's case, that effectively puts all of her assets at Jabril's disposal since, as I understand it, those vampires are controlled by whoever creates them.” Cyn nodded and Hewitt continued. “The parents put in a little twist, something to help the girls grow up a bit before they started making their own decisions. If either of them dies before she turns twenty-five, her share of the trust goes right to the family's charitable foundation. No other heir can be named, not even the surviving sister."

  "Which is probably the only reason Mirabelle is still alive."

  "If you call it living. The law does, so I guess that's all that matters, but it's a crime what he did to that girl. A plain crime."

  "And Liz ran because Jabril intends to do the same thing to her once she turns eighteen?"

  "That's right. Oh, he'll claim it was her choice, exactly like he did Mirabelle, but it won't be. If there's one thing I know for certain it's that Elizabeth Hawthorn wants nothing to do with Jabril Karim or any other vampire. She's a perfectly lovely young woman who wants to grow up, get married and have babies like every other good American girl."

  Cyn had to smile, wondering what Hewitt would think of the choices she'd made in her life. “This is—” She broke off as the waiter appeared again to slide a platter of Asian tapas onto their table, along with smaller plates, napkins and silverware.

  "Another drink?” He nodded at Cyn's nearly empty glass.

  "Not for me.” She glanced again at Hewitt's glass. “Another Scotch? Or something else?"

  "I've got to drive home,” Hewitt said with real regret, shaking her head. “I'll stick with this one."

  "Nothing more, then,” Cyn said to the waiter. He dashed off again, weaving his way through crowds grown even thicker while they'd been sitting there. Popping what she hoped was an egg roll into her mouth, Cyn chewed thoughtfully, then said, “Okay, so what you've told me so far is pretty much what I expected. But what I'd really like to know is if you have any idea how I can get Mirabelle away from him for even a couple of hours. Long enough to get her on a plane and on her way out of Texas."

  Hewitt looked even more shocked than Kelli had. “This is not a creature to take lightly, Ms. Leighton."

  "Cynthia,” Cyn suggested. “Or Cyn."

  "Cynthia,” Hewitt amended. “If you cross him, I imagine Jabril can be quite ruthless. Not a few of his competitors have suffered setbacks over the years. He's been in this area quite a while, and from what I understand, he's had to change his habits somewhat, but I wouldn't count on his civility, if I were you. Those fancy manners are only skin deep."

  "I believe you, but I have resources of my own. If I can get her out of Jabril's territory, his options are limited. And once we hit the Rockies, his hands are pretty much tied. Vamps are viciously territorial, and the boss out west even more than most."

  "I'm afraid I can't help you there, but what about Elizabeth? If you leave Texas—"

  "Liz is in California."

  "California? But how—"

  "A friend of hers. Any chance Liz would stay in touch with Mirabelle?"

  "I don't know how. You've seen what it's like on that estate. I've tried to see Mirabelle a couple of times myself and been turned down flat. They wouldn't even get a message to her, telling me she didn't want to see anyone. Not that I ever believed it, but once she was over eighteen, I had no jurisdiction."

  The waiter dropped the check folio on their table with a murmured, “Whenever you're ready.” Cyn looked it over quickly and charged it to her room.

  "I'll think of something,” she said. “Anything else you can tell me?"

  "Other than to be careful?” Hewitt shook her head and began gathering her things to leave. “Those are good girls, both of them. And their parents were good God-fearing people. They deserve better tha
n what life gave them."

  "Don't we all?” Cyn grabbed a couple of the egg roll-looking things and stood. There was an immediate shift in the human flow of the room as people positioned themselves to grab her table. “I probably won't talk to you again until I reach L.A., but I'll try to keep you up-to-date after that. And if anything pops here, you'll call me?"

  "I will.” Hewitt stood and offered her hand in a firm but friendly handshake. “I wish you luck, Cynthia. I'll say a prayer for you and those girls."

  Cyn watched Hewitt march through the lobby toward the front doors, watched her pull a puffy, brown winter coat on over her blue suit and take the time to stop and zip it closed before stepping out into the freezing wind. She waited until the valet brought the car around and Hewitt was on her way, and then she spun around and headed for the elevator. She had an idea for extracting Mirabelle from Jabril's clutches, but she'd need to be a lot sharper than she was right now. She was tired and even the one drink was slowing her down. A lot of coffee and a hot shower. That ought to do the trick. But she had to call a vampire first.

  Chapter Twelve

  It would be a couple of hours before sunset would catch up to the West Coast. Cyn spent the time with the fat yellow pages book, making notes, trying to think ahead to everything she might need in the hours to come. When it was finally time to make the call, her hands shook as she punched in the number. But she needed answers and this was the only place she knew to get them. She was relieved when an impersonal female voice answered.

  "Raphael Enterprises."

  "Duncan, please."

  "May I say who's calling?"

  She thought about lying, but this was Duncan, Raphael's number one guy, his lieutenant and closest advisor. He probably wouldn't come to the phone for someone he didn't know, so she told the truth. “Cynthia Leighton."

  "One moment.” It was said a little too fast, as though the woman had expected her call. Cyn's stomach was bouncing with nerves as she waited, terrified of hearing a certain honeyed voice on the other end of the line. But it was the ever so polite, so proper Duncan who picked up the line.