Bone Music (Burning Girl #1)(46)

“Nothing against Altamira, but that’s a pretty long fall,” Kayla says.

“Exactly,” Marty says. “And it’s suspicious.”

“You don’t think he interviewed with the FBI?” Charlotte asks.

“No, I think he did. What if the FBI’s involved in this somehow? What if he’s working for them?”

“That’s a reach, Marty,” Kayla says.

“You want to know where I was when you called me? I was at the Copper Pot with Luke. Who was asking me for your contact information so he could apologize. When’d you say this Dylan guy first approached you? About three months ago, right?”

Charlotte nods.

“That’s around when Luke first got in touch with Mona. She had a deputy set to retire, Bill Poindexter, so Luke had to wait until early this month to start.”

“That’s still a reach,” Kayla says.

“About twelve hours ago, this would have all seemed like a reach, Kayla.”

“Still,” she says, “guy comes crawling home with egg on his face. Knows he’s going to be seeing folks he was a dick to back in the day. Makes sense he would try to make amends.”

“Look, I knew Prescott. Charley knew Prescott. That kid thought he might run the FBI someday. Now there’s only two ways an arrogant know-it-all like that’s going to come crawling back home on his hands and knees. One, he knows he’s never got a shot in hell at a government job. Or two, he’s made some kind of backroom deal that guarantees him one if he does something else first.”

“I need a nap,” Kayla says. “This is making my head hurt.”

“And,” Charlotte says, “I should add that Marty also believes that space aliens have infiltrated our government at the highest levels.”

“My personal beliefs about our country’s strained relationship with extraterrestrial life is a complicated conversation for another evening,” Marty says. “The point here is that I need to make sure Luke isn’t trying to set some kind of trap with this apology business.”

“No,” Charlotte says, “I do.”

“You going to take one of your pills before you do it?” Kayla asks.

The lawyer’s penetrating glare is on her now and not Marty.

“I don’t know,” she says, averting her eyes. “I’m almost out.”

“And you’ve got big plans for the ones you have left?” Kayla asks.

“Let’s take this one step at a time,” Charlotte says, forcing herself to look into Kayla’s eyes again.

“Uh-oh,” her lawyer says with a half smile. “Looks like someone’s been bit by the superhero bug.”

“You believe me, Charley?” Marty asks.

“I believe you’re right—we have to be sure. And even if it’s bullshit, I won’t mind hearing an apology out of Luke Prescott’s mouth. The guy was a real jerk.”

“Still, try not to break his neck or throw him into a tree.”

“I won’t be able to if he doesn’t attack me,” Charlotte says.

Marty stands.

“Now?” Kayla asks. “You’re gonna head out now?”

“Better to arrive in the dark, when most of the town’s asleep,” he says. “As for me, I probably won’t be sleeping for the next five years anyway, so . . . You ready, Charley?”

She hadn’t thought it all the way through, but she’s relieved to have an objective, a direction. And after the dislocation of the past twenty-four hours, the prospect of some kind of homecoming, a return to the familiar, slows her heart rate some, makes her feel as if she’s coming to rest on something soft.

So she stands, too.

And then Kayla stands, and suddenly the three of them are staring at each other as if they all feel like they’ve forgotten some important piece of business. But Charlotte can tell the desire to keep moving is strong in all of them, driven in no small part, she fears, by a desire to leave all the dread that seems to radiate from this little prison of a house.

“All right,” Kayla says, clearing her throat. “I guess I’ll head back to the city. See if whoever’s investigating the biker blast has made any noise about your house.”

“Thank you. Seriously, Kayla, I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done.”

“Well, when you see my bill, maybe you’ll feel differently.”

“Jesus Christ,” Marty grumbles. “Really?”

“No. Not really.” Kayla rolls her eyes. “But don’t thank me yet. I’m not done. None of us are.”

She hugs Charlotte quickly but firmly, as if she fears committing to the embrace fully will unleash some storm of further emotion that will do them all in. She offers a smile. She’s halfway out the door when Charlotte says, “Call me when you get home safe.”

“On what?” Kayla asks. “Jason’s burner? No, thanks. I don’t call dead people.”

“Call me,” Marty says. “I’m listed.”

“Let’s not move too fast, Marty.” As Kayla pulls the door shut behind her, she points to the electronic peephole viewer on the wall next to her. Marty steps forward, makes sure the door closes all the way, and watches as she makes her way to her BMW.