Inherit the Dead

evil, fucking mother. And then we’ll go to the police.” Then she smiled, that slow, feline Bacall smile. “You and me. Together.”
    Angel’s shift from fury to seduction was as smooth as a jaguar, and possibly quite as lethal. She ran the tip of her tongue over her upper lip and smiled again.
    This time, it didn’t work. Because this time, Perry’s brain was working harder than his hormones. He knew who was to blame for what had nearly happened. He didn’t believe Angel’s crazy notion that he’d been bugged. But he knew he’d been followed. He should have figured out what was going on, who was on his tail, before he led them straight to Angel. Instead, he’d been so puffed up with his own ability to track a fugitive that he hadn’t covered his back the way he should have. And a young woman had almost died as a result.
    “You have to promise me you’ll stay out of sight at Athena’s. No rushing down the path to chase the next guy who shows up looking for you.” He took her elbow and marched back down the street to Athena’s place.
    “I promise,” Angel said breathily. “Whatever you say, Perry. You saved my life. I’m going to do whatever you tell me from now on.” She paused on the path leading to the front door, stood on tiptoes, and planted a kiss on his surprised mouth. Then she was gone, the door closing behind her with a sharp click.
    Perry drew in a shuddering breath. He felt as if he’d had more than one narrow escape. But he wasn’t so shaken up that he’d forgotten how the world worked. Somebody knew about Angel’s safe house. And Angel herself wasn’t to be trusted to take good care. Maybe Angel wasn’t to be trusted at all. Still, he needed backup. He pulled out his phone and called Henry.
    “How’s it going, Perry? You find your gal?” Henry sounded clipped, the background noise suggesting a busy squad room.
    “I did, thanks. Trouble is, I’m not the only one. Somebody just tried to pull a hit and run on us, Henry.”
    Henry gave a low whistle. “Time you brought her in, Perry. You need to make this official.”
    Perry sighed. “I wish. But she’s running scared. She thinks coming to you guys will leave her in the wind. I’m working on it. But I could use a pair of eyes on the girl till she’s ready to come into the fold.” What he couldn’t admit to Henry was his niggling doubt about trusting Angel. Something she’d said, or something she’d done had set his mind jangling.
    Henry sucked air through his teeth. “You don’t make life easy for any of us, do you?”
    “I try.”
    “Tell you what. I know the captain at the local precinct out there.I’ll have him put a uniform on the block. That should be enough to scare off anybody with the wrong idea about your gal.”
    Henry’s words drove some of the tension from Perry’s body. He leaned his head back and let out a long, slow breath. He noticed a tiny patch of blue at the heart of the thick gray cloud cover. Maybe he was finally starting to see daylight on this case. Maybe it was time to find out whether he was a player or just being played. It was time to find out just what Julia Drusilla was up to.
    Whatever it took.
    Maybe confronting Angel’s mother would take his mind off Angel’s kiss. Impatient, Perry scrubbed his hand across his lips, as if that could wipe away the impact of her mouth on his. He wished he could have believed in its sweetness.

That damn private eye.
    Eyes in back of his head.
    Too late now to go turn around and try to run them both down again.
    You’ve got to think. Got to make a decision.
    And you do. You will take care of the PI first because he knows about you now, and he’s going to be looking for you, trying to stop you, and you can’t have that. You have to get rid of him—doesn’t fucking matter if he sees you because it’s going to be the last goddamn thing he ever sees.
    So you wait a little longer then follow him, knowing exactly where the girl is, and once you have taken care of him, once he’s dead, you’ll come back and take care of her, too.

16
MARY HIGGINS CLARK
    P erry looked over his shoulder for one fleeting glance. Timmy Knox, the cop he had left guarding the house, was a nice young guy, but fresh out of the police academy. He had the build of a young Arnold Schwarzenegger and looked as though he could tackle a gorilla. That would make him a great bodyguard, Perry thought, but he wasn’t convinced Timmy was what his mother used to call “a deep