At First Light(Dr. Evan Wilding #1)(58)

The wind hurled fistfuls of rain at the windows. Ginny shook herself awake, eyeing Evan with irises that glowed in the shadows.

“And—and—” Now Addie’s voice was a rush, water spilling over rocks. “Helskin has a tattoo on his hand that sounds like a sun cross. The employee he talked to at the store is supposed to be sending me a sketch. I thought I’d have it by now.”

“Give me a call when you do.”

“How about I tell you in person? I’m just a few miles from your house. I figured you’d change your mind and want to go with me.”

“What? I most certainly do not.”

“It will be fun. Or at least not boring.”

Evan sighed. “You are not considering roping me into going with you on a drive-by at midnight through what I feel confident is an unsavory neighborhood.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know you well enough to realize that when you say drive-by, you probably mean pulling into their driveway and ringing the doorbell. Inviting yourself in for a little chin-wag. The very idea is insane.”

Ginny winked one golden eye at him. Then the other.

“Sanity is overrated,” Addie said. “I promise we won’t ring any doorbells. And we definitely won’t do any chin-wagging, whatever that is. But you’re our consultant. I want your professional opinion.”

“Of his house?” he asked. “Are you restless, Addie? Or merely bored?”

“I’m detecting,” she snapped.

“It has just this instant become clear to me.”

“What has?”

“You’ve developed a death wish because Claymore stood you up.”

There came a long pause. Then Addie said, “If you’re psychoanalyzing me, Professor, you might as well add that I’ve not only been stood up by the man of my dreams, I’m also pissed at half the men I work with, including my boss, who think women should fetch coffee and take notes at meetings and make themselves available for the occasional friendly grope.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“That isn’t who I am.”

“I know! I just wanted to—”

She stormed on. “So maybe this is about my ego. Maybe my ego is worth defending. Plus, we have two dead men. Two. Dead. Men. Or did you forget about them?”

With three more on the way.

He waited until he was sure she’d run out of steam, then said, “I’m sorry the world isn’t fair, Addie. I’m sorry that you have to keep proving yourself when you’ve already proven yourself a hundred times over. You deserve better.”

She growled. Then sniffed. “So do you.”

“Yes, well. To borrow a trite but appropriate cliché, we do the best we can with the hand we’re dealt.”

“And the best hand I’ve got right now is Helskin and his link to Talfour. I promise I’m just going to drive by his house. See where the creep lives. What cars are parked in his driveway so I can run the plates. Maybe find some violation that lets me bring him in for questioning during business hours. I’m asking you to go with me because you’re my best friend. And”—there came an audible sniff—“I could really use your company right now.”

Cue the big guns and the cavalry. Addie could play him like a fiddle. And, mostly, he didn’t care. What was sacrificing life and limb against the wishes of one Adrianne Marie Bisset?

“Come on, Evan,” she said. “You’re the one who’s always telling me that you like to see suspects in their personal world. The signs they choose to have around them. Now’s your chance. Aren’t you at least a little curious? Oh!”

“Oh?”

“Rachel Chen just sent me her drawing of Helskin’s tattoo. I’m forwarding it to you now. Open your email.”

Evan complied. He stared at the image and, with a scholar’s detached interest, noted how his body reacted to the image. The hair rose on the back of his neck. His chest muscles tightened. His mouth fell open until he forced it closed.

“Are you looking at it?” Addie said.

“It’s a specific type of sun cross known as a black cross.”

“Ha! Was it used by the Nazis?”

“It was certainly used by Heinrich Himmler, Hitler’s head of the Schutzstaffel and the chief architect of the Holocaust, as Rhinehart mentioned. He incorporated the design when he remodeled the Wewelsburg castle for use by the Schutzstaffel, the SS. He drew the outer circle and the inner dot, then connected them with a series of the sigel runes. Just as we see here, in your witness’s drawing.”

“What about neo-Nazis? Do they use it?”

“The symbol is very popular with them. But—” He forced his shoulders down. Took a deep breath.

“But what?”

“Neo-Nazis aren’t the only group who uses it.”

“Evan,” she groaned.

“It is also used by Nazi occultists.”

“Like Rhinehart mentioned.”

“And by the Church of Satan.”

“Oh,” Addie said. “That rather expands the pool of suspects.”

In the library, the monks continued chanting their sacred songs. The fire hissed. The house creaked as the wind swept along the walls and over the roof, rattling windows and testing doors.