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I heard Finn take a sip of something through the phone. Probably from his fifteenth cup of chicory coffee of the day. It was a wonder his stomach didn't explode from all the caffeine he sucked down on a daily basis.
"The limo cruised through downtown, going absolutely nowhere in particular, probably so Jonah and our good assassin could have a little personal time," Finn replied. "After that, the limo whisked them away to the always elegant confines of the old Ashland train yard. LaFleur disappeared into the hallowed depths. McAllister watched her go, obviously admiring her ass, then got back into the limo and rode away. I chose to stay with LaFleur, since we both know that you can stiff the lawyer any old time you want to. "
"True, McAllister isn't nearly the problem that LaFleur is. " I frowned. "But why did he take her to the old train yard? What is she doing there?"
Like most metropolitan cities, train lines crisscrossed through the greater Ashland area before their slender metal rails snaked out into the more mountainous countryside. Several years ago, the city had built a fancy new complex for passenger rail service out in the Northtown suburbs that included a state-of-the-art train station, upscale shops, a couple of five-star restaurants, and several ritzy hotels.
As a result, the old Ashland train yard on the outskirts of downtown had been largely abandoned and left to rust. Oh, trains hauling coal, lumber, and other industrial products still rumbled past the area on their regular daily schedules, as it was the quickest and most direct route through town, but none of them actually stopped there anymore. These days, the train yard was a popular area for homeless bums, who liked to squat in the abandoned railcars to take shelter from the cold. At least until the cops could be bothered to come out and roust them.
"It looks to me like LaFleur's set up shop here," Finn replied. "There's a lot of activity out here, and I'm not just talking about hobos starting trash can fires. Giants moving around lots of construction equipment and building materials. Some dwarves and humans too, all working on some of the old railcars and what used to be the old train depot. Looks like they're building something brand new. "
I thought about what Vinnie Volga had told me, about how Mab Monroe was planning on opening up her own nightclub in Ashland, a place that would offer absolutely anything a person's black heart could desire, no matter how twisted, perverted, illegal, or deadly it was.
"You think this is where Mab is going to establish her new business?" I asked.
Through the phone, I heard Finn take another sip of his coffee. "That thought crossed my mind as well, so I did some checking on my laptop after I realized that LaFleur was going to be here a while. Guess who just happens to have bought up all the land in the area recently, including the train yard itself. "
My hand tightened around the phone. "Mab Monroe. "
"The one and the same," Finn said. "Whether it's the new nightclub or not, Mab's up to something out here. And LaFleur is helping her with it. "
That was more than enough reason for me to pay a visit to the area tonight. But there was something else I wanted to know before I met Finn-the reason we were doing all of this in the first place.
"Any sign of Natasha?" I asked.
I doubted that the little girl was still alive. Mab's men had probably killed her last night, since they'd been planning to do the same to Vinnie. Given what Bria had told me, the bodies of the three men I'd disposed of last night had been found at the park, along with my rune. The Fire elemental would know that I was responsible for stiffing her goons. And since Vinnie wasn't among the corpses, Mab would also realize that I'd gotten my hands on him-and that he'd probably spilled his guts to me about LaFleur and everything else that was going on.
All of which meant that there was just no reason for Mab to keep Natasha alive, except maybe for use in her sick nightclub. I had Vinnie now, not the Fire elemental, so the girl was no good as leverage anymore. But there was a slim chance that she might still be breathing-there was always a chance, even if it rarely turned out that way. But more important was that I'd made a promise to Vinnie to do what I could to find his daughter. Or at least make the people who took her pay-with their lives.
"Not yet," Finn said. "But I'm going to take a casual stroll around the premises and see what I can see. Might be nice if you came and joined the party. You know, like you wanted me to last night at the park. "
I rolled my eyes. "Must you always mock me with my own words?"
"Yes," he chirped in a happy tone. "So you coming or not?"
"Oh, you know me," I drawled. "I never miss a good party. "
I told Sophia what Finn and I were going to do and asked her to tell Jo-Jo to be on standby, just in case one of us got injured during the course of the evening. The dwarf grunted at me and went home, still wearing her black Santa hat with its dangling, grinning skull. I hoped that wasn't an omen of things to come tonight. For me, anyway.
Once I turned out the lights in the storefront, I went into the back of the restaurant and grabbed a black duffel bag from behind one of the freezers. Cash, knives, clothes, credit cards, a disposable cell phone, some healing supplies, a ski mask. The bag held everything that the Spider might need for a bloody good time out on the town. Emphasis on the bloody part.
I changed clothes, trading in my blue work apron, T-shirt, and jeans for a pair of heavy cargo pants, boots, and a thick turtleneck. All in black, of course. I didn't really wear any other color while I was working. Few assassins did. Besides, by the time I got to Finn it would be after eight, and the night would be as dark as my clothes. Always better to blend into your surroundings, especially when you were going into hostile territory.
For the finishing touch, I put on a black vest. The garment had a variety of zippered pockets on it, which I stuffed full of my various supplies. Even without the extra gear, the vest was still heavy. That's because it was made of silverstone, just like my knives. In addition to absorbing elemental magic, the metal also had the added benefit of being tougher than Kevlar. Which meant that I could take a few bullets or blasts of magic to the chest and still come up swinging. Given the fact that I planned on killing Elektra LaFleur, I wanted every single advantage that I could get, no matter how small it might be.
When I was finished dressing, I checked my silverstone knives and made sure they were all in their proper slots. One up either sleeve, one in the small of my back, and two tucked into my boots. My standard five-point arsenal. I also fished a couple of extra knives out of the duffel bag and put those in various pockets in my vest. I had a feeling I'd need the extra weapons to take down LaFleur. The assassin wouldn't go quietly. Not with her deadly skills and electrical elemental magic. Hell, I'd be lucky if I didn't get fried in the process.
When I was outfitted for the evening, I slipped out of the back of the Pork Pit. For a moment, I stood there in the alley, my eyes flicking over the black shadows, making sure that everything was as it should be. Sophia had already left, so nothing moved or stirred in the dark night. It was so cold that even the garbage rats had quieted down for the evening.
Still, just to be sure, I brushed my fingers against the back wall of the restaurant and reached out with my Stone magic. The red brick only murmured with its usual slow, steady, clogged contentment, matching the stomachs and arteries of so many folks after eating at the Pork Pit. Satisfied that everything was as it should be, I shouldered my duffel bag and left the restaurant behind.
It took me about ten minutes to drive to Finn's location. The old train yard was located on the outskirts of the downtown area, just on the edge of Southtown, a half-moon piece of land that curved around a high bank overlooking the Aneirin River before sloping downward and giving way to dilapidated buildings and streets once more.
I found Finn's Aston Martin parked in an alley on the far western edge of the train yard, several hundred feet from the actual start of the rail lines themselves. I whipped a U-turn and pulled my silver Benz into an alley another quarter mile out, giving us a second getaway option in case things got a little heated this evening. Then I pulled my cell phone out of my vest pocket and called Finn. He answered on the third ring.
"I'm here," I said. "Where are you?"
"On a small hill overlooking the train yard, about five hundred feet due west of McLaren Street," he said.
