The Line (Witching Savannah, #1)(33)

“I’m saying I can’t trust you, and Mister, you know why.”

Oliver and Cook locked eyes, and a long moment of silence stretched out as we waited to see who would call chicken first. Cook let it drop. “Burke says he’ll tell us everything after he talks to Mother, but we can’t find her. No one’s seen her at her usual haunt in Colonial lately, and she’s done a good job of staying off the grid other than her appearances at the cemetery.”

“You won’t find her unless she wants to be found,” Iris said.

“That may well be,” Cook responded, “but I was hoping that perhaps Mr. Flynn would be able to give us a lead on where she might be located. Your reputation,” he addressed Connor, “for tracking things down is legendary, and with your vested interest in the matter, I thought perhaps you would be willing to do a little off the record investigating of your own.”

Connor puffed up with the praise, but his response was cautious. “Jilo is a slippery one, Detective. I’ll be happy to give it a go, but I suspect that if she don’t want to be found, I ain’t going to find her.”

“I’d appreciate any help you can offer in the matter—” Cook’s sentence was cut short by the ringing of his cell. He pulled the phone out of its holder, his gaze drifting back to Oliver. He seemed to have a hard time not looking at Oliver; it was as if his eyes were hungry for the sight.

“Cook,” the detective answered his phone. “Yes. That’s correct. I am here with the family now.” As he listened, his reaction indicated bad news—his nostrils flared and his eyes widened. “He what? How the hell could he do that? All right. You sure as hell had better. You tell March I want to talk to him the second I get there.” He turned off his phone and looked at us. “Martell Burke disappeared—literally disappeared—from his cell, and I want you all to tell me just how the hell that could have happened.”

“Detective Cook,” Aunt Iris said with raised eyebrows, smiling with only the right side of her mouth. “We want Ginny’s killer brought to justice. I certainly hope you’re not suggesting that we would free the man you suspect of killing her?”

“No ma’am, I don’t think you’d free him, but I sure as hell better not find myself stumbling over his body in a day or two. I need to get back to the station, but y’all can help me by getting me the names and contact information of any relatives who’ve been here for the funeral in case I need to get in touch them.”

He gave Oliver a cold and pointed look. “And don’t you even think of leaving town, Mr. Taylor. If my suspect turns up looking any less than healthy, you, sir, will be the first person I pay a visit. I would suggest you send up a little prayer for Martell’s prompt and safe return to custody.” Cook stared at Oliver for a moment more before slamming out the door.

“We should all keep an eye on each other until they catch this guy,” Connor stated flatly as the sound of Cook’s steps faded away.

“But how could this Burke fellow up and disappear?” Ellen asked. “Unless Mother’s behind it?”

Connor laughed. “Mother ain’t got the juice to pull this kind of stunt off.”

“It appears you are mistaken,” Emmet responded, “as it is unlikely anyone else would have had the motivation to free the man.”

Iris shocked us all by slamming her hands down on the table. “Oliver. Tell me you had nothing to do with this disappearance! You swear to me!”

Oliver’s eyes widened as he shrugged and tried to look innocent. For once he succeeded. “I didn’t Iris. I swear. I didn’t do a thing to Burke.” We all fell quiet and waited. “Nor,” Oliver continued in a somewhat hurt tone, “did I convince anyone else, including Burke himself, to do anything. I really and truly have no idea where he is, or how he managed his Houdini, unless Mother somehow pulled it off.”

“Damned shame.” Connor chuckled. “I would have respected you more if you had. But it is what it is, and we have bigger fish to fry. Let Cook try to round Burke up. We need to deal with the lot drawing. Once we get that handled, we can turn our attention to Burke.”

“He’s right,” Iris said. “We must deal with the matter at hand, and then if the detective still hasn’t apprehended this man, we can deal with the situation ourselves.”

“Wow, you light up the torches and I’ll grab the pitchforks.” Oliver smirked, but Iris’s expression told him she was having none of her little brother’s nonsense at the moment.

“We’ll give the law their chance, but if they can’t handle it, we will,” she replied, stressing the word “we” to let Oliver know that he was indeed part of that pronoun. “Ginny’s blood is crying out for justice, and I for one will not ignore its call.”





THIRTEEN


I had a lot of processing to do, so I took the first possible opportunity to excuse myself and go back upstairs. The nine families seemed scandalized that Ginny had kept me ignorant. I wondered what they’d think if they knew they were singing from the same song sheet as Mother Jilo.

Now that enough time had passed for the golem to understand that I was changing for my own reasons and not anyone else’s, I put on a light cotton dress and some comfortable shoes. Nice, not disrespectful by any standards, but also not making any more of a display in Ginny’s honor than was necessary. One of the cousins knocked tentatively at my door and told me that I had a visitor, a young redheaded man who seemed quite anxious to see me. I gave myself a quick look in the mirror and headed downstairs.