Page 31

Asher

I kept my body between Calisto and O’Reilly as she prowled around the room. Sometimes she paused to stare at Calisto like she had something to say, before moving to a different position to do exactly the same. I couldn’t do much else, but I could serve as his silent sentry.

Five minutes went by, the room wreathed in an unnatural stillness with only O’Reilly moving. Ben had remained on the floor, my attempts at catching his eye coming to naught. Either his injuries caused him too much pain to lift his head, or he didn’t believe silent communication would help. Or perhaps it was because it was me. Ben and I had only spoken a few times, most of those polite courtesies as I’d shown him through to Cade’s office.

With nothing else to do but think, I pondered whether I should have made more effort with Calisto’s friends. If we got out of here, and there was a long-term relationship to be had between the two of us, he’d want me to get on with his friends. Unfortunately, that included John, which would prove quite the challenge.

As five minutes turned to ten, I sketched a plan in my head of how I might approach such a thing. As a charm offensive wasn’t particularly in my arsenal, it would take plain speaking, and a genuine desire from both of us to let bygones be bygones for Calisto’s sake. Would John be prepared to do that? Was he capable of such a feat? Although, that was precisely the attitude I’d have to drop if any tenuous relationship were to be established between the two of us.

O’Reilly came to a stop next to the body of the young girl, and I angled myself slightly to ensure she stayed on camera. “How did you kill her?”

She turned slightly, her expression as placid as ever. “Would you believe me if I said she died of natural causes?”

“No.”

Ben barked out a laugh, his reward a kick in the ribs from the man stationed by his side. It was an effective way to get him to stop laughing, the only sounds after that hoarse breaths as he struggled through the pain.

“Well, she did,” she said.

“And you just happened across her body, and no one minded you taking it?”

“I’m lucky like that.”

“And her parents… her siblings… her significant other if she had one… won’t think it odd that she’ll be getting up and walking around again? Or haven’t you thought that far ahead?”

“You ask a lot of questions that don’t concern you, Mr. Baines.”

“I’m interested.”

“Perhaps you should curb your interest before it gets you into trouble.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Just some friendly advice.”

I knew when I was fighting a losing battle. Abigail O’Reilly was far too practiced at the butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth act to let something slip, but at least no one could say I hadn’t tried to get her to confess to something.

Another five minutes passed at a glacial crawl to make it fifteen, the tension in the room growing ever thicker. O’Reilly had resumed her pacing again, her gaze swinging between the body on the stretcher, presumably to check it wasn’t sitting up, and the cross-legged figure of Calisto, his breathing once more worryingly silent. What if something happened in that place? Where would that leave his physical body?

“How much longer is this going to take?” O’Reilly finally asked, directing the question at me. I took the same approach as I did with belligerent clients, running a few answers through my head and calculating which one would be least likely to raise her ire before answering. “He wants to get it right,” I said. “He wants to make sure that unlike the first time he attempted something like this, there are no mistakes made. I’m sure you, of all people, appreciate the importance of that.”

I took heart from her lack of argument, and hoped to hell that’s all it was, because if there was some sort of problem, I wouldn’t know about it until it was too late.