But he took relief in remembering that he’d thought to record her voice as a backup plan as he lifted the phone to his ear. “Yeah?”
“This Darien Cassel?” came a husky male voice.
“Who is this?”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” the voice replied. “This is Detective Finn Solace of the MPU. We met a while back under Delaney’s roof.”
Ah, yes. Darien recalled that night quite well. Malakai had thrown one hell of a party; it had turned into such a rowdy night that Darien and several of the other Reapers had spent a large chunk of that party in holding cells. And Detective Finn Solace was one of the officials who’d broken up the fun and hauled several Darkslayers away in handcuffs.
“I don’t remember giving you my number,” Darien said.
“No offence, but I don’t think you remember much at all from that night.”
Darien smirked. “What can I do for you?”
“I was hoping you might be able to help me with Cain Nash.”
Darien blinked. “I’m listening.”
“I heard a while back that you were allowed into Stone’s End the night the Starlight Mall was blown up.”
“And?” Darien prompted.
“And I’m wondering if you saw anything of interest when you stopped in for a visit at Cain Nash’s house.” When Darien didn’t say anything, the detective continued, “We need him behind bars, Cassel. And we have reason to believe he might be selling the Blood Staves that are being used to kill these missing girls that keep turning up dead. If these staves are used incorrectly, they can burn whoever is conducting the spells—”
“You and I both know that Cain’s burns were caused by that house fire.” Darien’s jaw flexed.
Finn blew out a sigh that rattled the phone. “Look, I know that. But we need to get a handle on these killings and getting Cain in for questioning should at least help our odds.”
“Cain’s not behind this, so how can it help your odds?” Cain wasn’t smart enough to be behind something so complicated as the Phoenix Head Society and the Arcanum Well.
“I know he isn’t, Cassel. And we won’t stop looking for who is, but implicating Cain will get rid of another problem we’ve been struggling with for some time.”
“You want to frame him,” Darien concluded.
“If you want to call it that,” Finn said stiffly. “As I know you are very aware, we’re having a hard time cleaning up the streets, and killing two birds with one stone by framing Cain andthengoing after whoever owns the Blood Stave that’s killing these poor girls is our best option right now.”
Darien considered his request. “We’re a lot alike, aren’t we?” he said. “Both of us striving to do good in this world and neither of us quite succeeding, but we lie to ourselves all the same because it’s the only way we can get from today to the next sunrise.” Finn didn’t say anything, but there was a tension on the line that suggested he was hanging on his every word. “What sets us apart? Your badge and my tattoo?” He smirked. “We’re one and the same. Because the truth is, neither of us like looking at ourselves in the mirror.” No, Darien certainly didn’t like seeing his own reflection. He’d broken several mirrors in his life because of the darkness that lay in the eyes, a darkness that stared back at him from the cold glass.
His father’s eyes.
There was a beat of silence before Finn said tightly, “I take it you don’t want to help us.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to help you,” Darien began. “I just don’t think you have your focus on the right threat.”
He looked toward the street where the messenger had vanished. No one was in sight now—no one around but him.
Darien sighed. “Unblock your identification and I’ll reach out if anything jogs my memory.” He hung up before the detective could reply.
He looked again toward the dark street—to where the rabbit had been walking only moments before. He would find her. With the help of the audio recording, he would find her.
More importantly, he would find her boss. Tanner would be able to run the recording through his voice recognition software, and as soon as this rabbit talked on her phone long enough to get a read on her whereabouts, Darien would trail her, digging up at least one of the psychos behind this mess.
He only hoped it would be soon.
43
Nearly two weeks had passed since that night in Darien’s truck.
