The Trouble with Twelfth Grave (Charley Davidson #12)(25)

Remembering I was not above begging, I whirled around to face him. “Give me more time, Michael. I can … I can bring Reyes back.”

“Rey’azikeen is feral.”

“I can rein him in.” I glared at the celestial being towering over me. “I can tame him.” Surely, somewhere inside him, a part of Reyes was still … Reyes. Surely I could tame the beast. “Give me three more days.”

He bowed his head and closed his eyes as though communicating with heaven directly, then he opened them just as quickly. “You have one.”

And he was gone.

He vanished before my eyes. Traffic restarted. The joggers continued their journey. The bird landed with one elegant swoop. And sound rushed at me from all sides.

One day. I dug out my phone and checked the time. Twenty-four hours to trap my husband and knock some sense into him.





8

Why is it so hard to find an exercise bike with a nice little basket where I can put my vodka and nachos?





—MEME


I texted Garrett and informed him of our new deadline, then took the stairs two at a time.

Sister Mary Elizabeth stood in the middle of Cookie’s office, hesitant to greet me.

I strode over and pulled her into a hug.

“Are you okay?” she asked, concern lining her pretty face.

“Yes. Michael is just a little prickly sometimes.”

“Michael? The Michael?”

Sister Mary Elizabeth could hear the angels in the heavens. The news. The gossip. The turmoil. But she couldn’t see them. I could understand her fascination. Their immense power almost bowled me over every time I met one.

“What’s up, buttercup?” I asked, peeling off my jacket.

“It’s the angels.”

“It usually is.” I offered her a cup, then poured one for myself.

“They’re in an uproar.”

“They usually are.”

“What did Michael say?” Cookie asked.

“Pretty much that in a nutshell. They’re upset another volatile—not malevolent, per se—god is loose on this plane, and they’ve given me a day to rein him in. Is that what you’re hearing?” I asked the sister.

She nodded and sat in the chair across from Cookie. “I am a little surprised, however.”

“By?”

“The fact that they gave you another day.”

“Well, I did ask politely.”

“But they never do that. They never waver.”

“Gosh, I feel all special and gooey inside.”

“Charley,” Cookie said, sensing my agitation, “what happens if you can’t get to him?”

I closed my lids to stop the wetness from forming behind them. They stung, but my chest stung more. Despite everything we’d done, to give us this kind of ultimatum seemed wholly unfair.

When I opened my eyes, Cookie’s expression had shifted from worry to fear.

“They send an army,” I said, my voice edged with resentment. “They cut him down.”

A hand flew over her mouth, and Sister Mary Elizabeth hugged herself, worry lining her bright face.

“Sister, I’d be very open to some prayers if you and the other sisters would be willing.”

“Absolutely. I know they will be. But I also have a message from the mother superior.”

“Oh?” I took a long draft, daring the scalding coffee to burn my throat.

“She wanted you to know—on the down low, mind you—that, well, we suspect the Vatican has allowed Quentin to stay at the convent for ulterior motives.”

“As motives so often are. What do you mean?”

“They’re asking questions. About…” She cleared her throat and started again. “About your daughter.”

And the hits just kept coming. I froze in place as a rancid kind of anger washed over me. It was one thing to go after me. It was another to go after mine.

“What do they know?”

“I have no idea. They’re not very sharing. They’ve just been asking questions. The mother superior wanted me to tell you they’re trying to be subtle about it, which has raised her suspicions even more.”

“What does Quentin have to do with it?”

“We believe they’re using him as an excuse to come into the complex and talk to the nuns. And they’ve questioned him, too. But I have to be honest. I think he knows what they’re doing. His answers are always … vague.”

That’s my boy.

“Who are they, exactly?”

“A bishop from Santa Fe and another man. An investigator of some kind. And if I’m not mistaken, he comes straight from the Vatican.”

I nodded. What the hell were they up to?

“I can let you know when they come back. If they come back. In the meantime, we’ll pray for your success, Charley.”

We stood, and she crushed me into a hug. She was strong for such a tiny thing.

“Thank you for bringing this to me, and thank the mother superior for me.”

Sister Mary Elizabeth nodded, then hurried out the door.

“You’ve had quite the day,” Cookie said.

“I can’t help but wonder if everything we’re working on is tied together somehow.”