Bloodstone (A Stacy Justice Mystery) Page 19

  It took two strides to reach him. I grabbed the dagger with my left hand, stuck it to his back and horse-shoed my right arm around his throat.

  He squeaked, dropped the ice bucket and I said, “Where is she?”

  “The Seeker, I presume?”

  “Listen to me, you son of a bitch. I have not had a good day. I wrecked two cars, ran in three inch heels through a damp forest, got shot at and I’m pretty sure I’m in the throes of PMS. Just take me to Ivy or I swear to god, I’ll stab you in both kidneys.”

  He tensed. “You got shot at?”

  “Don’t make me repeat myself. Take me to the girl or lose a lung. Your choice.”

  Honeycut slipped a keycard into the door we were standing in front of and it popped open.

  I told him to turn the lights on and he did.

  Mrs. Honeycut was sitting on the sofa knitting. She looked up and greeted her husband. Then she turned to me, scowled and said, “I don’t see a book.”

  I said, “Do you see the six-inch blade in my hand? Kind of changes the dynamic of the situation. Put the knitting needles on the table, Mrs. Honeycut.”

  She did.

  “Now,” I patted Mr. Honeycut down and found no weapons. “Where is the gun?”

  I wouldn’t call for Ivy until I knew she was out of danger. If she was even here, although I suspect the chair propped under the door across the room was a good indication she was.

  Mrs. Honeycut furrowed her brow together. “What gun?”

  Mr. Honeycut said, “She said someone shot at her, Cece.”

  “Who would do such a thing?” she asked, incredulous.

  I said, “I’m going out on a wild limb here, but I’d say people who kidnap a defenseless child might not be gun shy.”

  “Nonsense,” Mrs. Honeycut said and stood up. “We don’t believe in guns. And the child is fine.”

  Mr. Honeycut spoke then. “She’s telling the truth. We may dabble in poisons, but never firearms.”

  “We’re scientists,” Mrs. Honeycut explained as if that made everything okay.

  Someone knocked then and I heard Mahoney’s voice just as the band started to play. The music was so loud, the floor shook. I ordered Mrs. Honeycut to open the door, still holding the knife to her husband’s back. She did and Mahoney entered eating a Snicker’s bar.

  I directed Mrs. Honeycut to lie on the bed.

  Mahoney said, “These are the Hunters? Ma and Pa Kettle?”

  Mr. Honeycut extended his hand and Mahoney was just about to shake it when I said, “Don’t do that.”

  He gave a curious look then said, “Oh yeah. Which one of you slipped me the goofy juice?”

  Mr. Honeycut said, “Your ID fell out when you opened your wallet to pay at check in. Remember, Mr. Mahoney?”

  “Okay, I need some answers,” I said. “First, who are you and how do you know about us?” I told him to sit next to his wife.

  When he settled onto the bed, he said. “Fifty years of research, my dear. I am the professor of ancient religions at the University of Chicago. The Ballymote book has been a fascinating mystery to me for decades. All the times it was lost and found, then lost again. I knew something in it had to be incredibly valuable. And just when I discovered what must have been on the missing page, a true Delaney walked into my classroom.” He paused, as if picturing the scene in his mind.

  “She was entranced by the story, devoured everything she could about it—more than any other student I ever had. It was obvious that it was personal to her. Once I had her school records, it was easy to trace her lineage.” He looked at me, wildly. “Then it was a matter of keeping track of her, following her, watching her. And when her daughter came along, I studied her too. Her training was so intense she could only be the Warrior. The legend was true! I knew if I was patient, they would lead me to it and that discovery would not only change the world, but my name would go down in history as the man who located Noah’s Ark.” He was breathing heavy now and I thought he might have a stroke.

  “But then, I made a mistake. I went to talk to her, to simply convince her that the Ark belonged to the world.” He looked at his wife. “You were right, Cece, I spooked her.” Then he looked at me. “She fled after that, but I tracked her down, then followed her daughter here. And lo and behold, there was a Geraghty Guest House. I thought if we could get inside, we could search for the family book, which I suspect may hide the page, but we didn’t find it.”

  “And so you broke into my office and searched there,” I said.

  He nodded, trained his gaze at Mahoney. “When we found you in our room, I was certain you knew what we were there for. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, you see, so I slipped you the toxin to keep you out of the way. I felt you were the biggest threat. A man, further along in life, wiser.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You have got to be kidding me. This guy?” I thumbed toward Mahoney.

  Then I had one more question. Where was Ivy’s mother?

  Before I could ask it, Mahoney smiled and said, “Well pops, you were right about that.”

  He took out a gun and shot them both in the head.

  SIXTY-EIGHT

  “Although prepared for martyrdom, I prefer that it be postponed.”

  Sir Winston Churchill

  Holy. Mother. Freaking. Shit.

  “Why did you do that?” I rushed to the bed, but they were both dead.

  I whirled back to Mahoney and said, “Answer me!”

  He was on the phone. “It’s done.” Then he hung up. I grabbed the phone on the desk and Mahoney reached over and yanked the connection from the wall. Then I reached into my pocket and pulled my phone out.

  “Drop it,” he said. “The knife too.”

  “I’ll never find her now. Ivy’s mother is tied up somewhere, Mahoney!”

  He smirked. “You think I give a rat’s ass?” He ripped the line from the phone, strung it through his hands.

  Ivy. Was she in the bathroom?

  Then the door opened and if I didn’t believe in the Amazon tribe before, I did then.

  The woman standing before me was well over six feet tall and looked like she could give a plow horse a run for its money.

  This was so not good.

  She smiled at Mahoney, kissed him, then looked at the bed and said, “Well Daddy, you always said it was a quest worth dying for. I guess you got your wish.” She laughed.

  I looked at the man standing next to her. “I take it you are not The Guardian.”

  How could I have been so wrong?

  They both laughed at that.

  “You know, I didn’t even believe that old coot until he asked me to book him a room as an anniversary gift.” She walked around the bed and shook her head at her father. “All he cared about was that stupid book. Never made it to a birthday party, never came to a wrestling match. Just that stupid book!” She kicked him and I blanched. “And now that I know what’s in it, can’t say I blame him.” Her eyes filled with fire. “Must be worth a fortune!”

  “Well you almost blew that now, didn’t you, Claudia?” Whats-his-name said.

  “I’m sorry Michael, when I didn’t know what had happened to you, I panicked.”

  “You’re also a terrible shot,” he said and kissed her. Then he looked at me. “She was aiming for you.”

  “Yeah, I got that.”

  “Sure, with that dinky gun. Now give me an M-16 and I’ll hit my mark every time.” She looked at me and said, “I figured whatever was in that bank you went to was the key.”

  Suddenly, the map in my pocket felt like an anchor.

  “The bank was closed,” I said.

  Mahoney pointed the gun to my head and I really wished I had one of my own. I put my hands up.

  “You sure about that?” he asked.

  Adrenaline pumped through me as I thought about what to do. They would kill me either way, I was sure. The boots tingled around my ankles as I said, “I do have something for you. But you’ll need me to interpret it.”<
br />
  Michael said, “Let’s see it.”

  “It’s in my jacket pocket. Left side.”

  When he reached in, he lowered the gun enough for me to act.

  I launched into a full tackle, put all my weight behind it and took him to the floor. His entire body twitched and lurched and the gun slid away. I felt a jolt as I leapt off of him and saw my wrist bands flash like lightning.

  Like tasers.

  The asshole was still flopping like a fish when I twisted around to find Claudia reaching under the bed. I jumped on top of her too, but I didn’t have enough juice left to zap her, so basically, I gave her a bear hug. Her left fist connected with my nose and I flew back into a lamp, blood gushing all over me. Then Claudia screamed, did some sort of eggbeater move with her legs and popped up with Moonlight glued to her face, scratching, clawing, ripping her flesh apart.

  I forced myself up, heading toward the bathroom door to retrieve Ivy and get the hell out of there when the door pulsated from the inside like someone had taken an axe to it. The chair propped beneath the knob splintered and with another crack, the door went down. Then Ivy came into the room, blazing.

  Michael was back on his feet, ready to lunge, but Ivy put a stop to it with a leaping twist and a roundhouse kick to the chest, delivering an upper cut for good measure. He flew back across a table and slid to the ground. She took a stance against Claudia and they looked like David and Goliath for a moment. Then Ivy charged at her with a battle cry and a succession of front and side kicks, that Claudia managed to block.

  My hand was on the dagger before I felt a stinging pain in my back. I fell to my knees and the dagger slid under the door and into the hallway. I screamed and reached behind me, pulled the knitting needles from my back. Michael jumped on top of me, slammed my head into the floor and I planted a needle in his hand. He cried out and let go and I flopped over.

  I could see Ivy was holding her own against Claudia, but the woman was so much bigger. I worried one punch could knock her clean out.

  Then she jumped on the bed, did a back flip and caught the ceiling fixture. She curled her knees to her chin and like a jack in the box, sprang both feet out, planting them directly in Claudia’s face. Three teeth flew from her mouth and I was in such awe, I forgot about my own attacker.

  He came at me again while I was on my back, so I took a page from Ivy’s book, curled my knees to my chin and fired my legs at him.

  As I did, I heard a sound like a firecracker.

  Michael stumbled, grabbed his stomach, blood spreading across his shirt.

  My boots were smoking.

  Did I just shoot someone?

  He fell back and Claudia screamed, lunged at me.

  Ivy jumped on top of her and got a helicopter ride as Claudia tried to spin her off, but she was like a Velcro monkey and the woman couldn’t shake her.

  I scrambled under the bed for the gun, but came up empty. Then I grabbed the phone cord thinking I could tie her up, until I saw Claudia stand erect and slam Ivy into a wall. She whirled to face her opponent and the two commenced fighting.

  I was desperate, running out of options. I took a long shot and pulled the nightstand drawer open.

  Talcum powder.

  But could it be? “Ivy, catch!”

  She ducked a right cross, caught the powder, and I said, “Sprinkle it on her!”

  She did not question, just did it. A brief look of terror crossed Claudia’s face before she went down like a redwood.

  Ivy dropped the powder and ran to me, gave me a giant hug. She high-fived me and danced a little jig.

  “Whoo-hoo, we kicked ass! Did you see that upper cut I gave the dude?”

  “Yes, Ivy.” I opened the door, edged her out, me close behind.

  “And you were awesome, sis! Are those magic boots?” She turned back and suddenly her eyes grew big and she said, “Look out!”

  I turned just as Michael blew the powder in my face.

  I slapped at it immediately with both hands, but nothing was happening. Then I recalled the bats in the woods.

  Michael was stunned when nothing happened.

  Which gave me enough time to plant my boot in his neck.

  It didn’t go off that time, but it did the trick. His eyes rolled back in his head and he fell on top of Claudia.

  We slammed the door and ran down to the lobby. I had to thank Derek about the guano tip and invite his aunt to Thanksgiving.

  SIXTY-NINE

  Four months later...

  They found Ivy’s mother, Anna (Delaney), in another room of the hotel, tied and gagged like in my vision. She had hair just like her daughter. Apparently they used the same brand of dye. Hot Tamale something or other.

  She explained to me later that when Honeycut came to visit her, it was clear the Hunting season had arrived. And so, she did what any mother would. She used herself as a decoy to draw them away from Ivy. It worked for a time, until Honeycut realized that she would never give up her daughter. So he kept her in the room of the hotel and trained his sights on Ivy.

  The map, she thought, would buy us some time if it was needed. If it reached a point of desperation. However, she knew that had she given it to him the day he came to visit, he would have realized, after studying it closely, that it was a forgery of the real map—the destroyed page of the Ballymote book. There is strength in numbers, she told me, so she sent Ivy to the Geraghty clan. In her over-active fourteen-year-old mind, Ivy assumed she was a Geraghty.

  “Because no one is really named Smith,” she had said.

  When they left Amethyst, Ivy took Moonlight with her. Cats choose their people and Moonlight knew he was Ivy's familiar. Fiona had a little talk with him before they loaded him up. He'll keep her safe.

  There have been a few phone calls, texts and post cards exchanged. With each one, a nagging feeling tugged at my heartstrings telling me that she would soon leave my life. Anna's caution kept them moving around Chicagoland long before I met Ivy. Now it carried them further and further away to different cities, different states. Her greatest fear was that her daughter would always be in danger. Every second of every day.

  And she would be.

  The last time we spoke, Ivy promised me that the minute she turned twenty-one, she would come for a visit just to sit front and center at Monique’s bar so we could take turns razzing her.

  I pointed out that her age never stopped her before, but it sounded like a fantastic idea.

  The hearing to determine the fate of my mother was scheduled for Samhain. Birdie was working on pushing the date up, but since that’s the beginning of the New Year according to the pagan calendar, apparently that was when the council decided the fate of the damned.

  I thought it was bullshit and planned to tell them the first chance I got.

  Michael didn’t make it. Apparently, the boots were packing and the wristbands were indeed tasers. Fiona explained that Lolly went hog wild in the spy store and maxed out her credit card to suit me up for whenever I would need it. I told her that information may have come in handy before the very bad man tried to snuff me. She was afraid I wouldn’t wear them if I knew and I must say, she was probably right. Mostly because I wouldn't trust a weapon Lolly had picked out.

  Claudia went insane. Due to the zombie powder or just the fact that she was already a few gallons short of a full tank, no one could say. I was told her straight jacket fit her nicely.

  Deirdre (thankfully) pulled through her operations and I went to visit her a week after the accident. I apologized for leaving her on the side of the road, explained I thought she was fatally wounded and that I was still under attack. She graciously understood. Said the safety of her niece was the most important thing.

  John was not so forgiving. He pulled me aside in the lobby of the hospital.

  “You shouldn’t have left her there.”

  I said, “John, you have no idea how badly I feel about that.”

  “I don’t care how you feel. She could have died out
there.”

  “You don’t understand.” I didn’t know what else to say. Didn't know how much he knew.

  John stared me down. Finally, he dropped his pants and mooned me.

  On his ass was the mark of the Guardian.

  I knew I forgot to check something when I caught up with Sayer at the Shelby farm.

  John said he had just gotten the confirmation from the council on the Warrior and was about to make contact when the call came that Deirdre had been shot.

  I asked him if he knew what ‘Mahoney money’ meant (Ivy had mentioned phony money and I thought maybe she had been mistaken). He explained that his family was the wealthiest of the three clans and it was determined that any funding needed for the cause would be set up in a trust for all three families to use as needed at the discretion of the council.

  “Until next time,” he said and walked back into his wife’s room.

  It was Friday afternoon when Chance walked into my office.

  “Hey gorgeous. You ready?” He came over and brushed his lips across my neck. Then he sat on my desk and pulled me to him, his blue eyes warm and inviting.

  I stood, draped my arms around his neck and kissed him thoroughly. It felt safe to be in his embrace. As much as I cared for Leo, Chance was the one who knew me best. We had a history that couldn't be shaken. And even though he could be a tad protective, he trusted my judgment and accepted me for who I was, flying imaginary squirrels and all.

  Besides, if a man can forgive you for crashing his truck, he's worth a second look.

  “What do you say we get some take-out and go to my place?” he asked.

  “Only if it involves chocolate syrup,” I said.

  “Oh, that could be arranged.”

  I leaned across my desk to grab my bag when the phone rang.