Living With the Dead (Otherworld 9)

"I meant the one behind her. In the photo."

"There was a girl behind the one in the dress?"

"A couple. An older man and her." He jerked his chin toward the girl, still marching, still scowling, still searching for a way back in.

"Shit. Guess I'm not quite the sleuth I thought I was. I honestly never noticed anyone else. But if you think that's her..."

He didn't think; he knew.

"And you think it can't be a coincidence she's here," Damon continued.

Again, Finn knew it. "Look where she is. You said yourself she doesn't look like the sort to sneak in. And if she is, she's picked a hell of a spot. Everyone can see her. Besides, she's wearing an admission band."

"Wearing... ? Damn. Missed that, too. I'm striking out tonight. What's she doing, then?"

"Or who is she looking for?"

Damon didn't seem to hear Finn, having already figured it out and started moving toward her, cutting through the crowds the way only a ghost could.

She was maybe twenty, average height and skinny with dark blond hair cut to her shoulders. With her mousy hair, long face and sallow complexion, she was the sort of girl you expected to see at a state college, walking alone, avoiding eye contact, books clutched to her chest.

She wasn't avoiding eye contact now. Her mouth was set in a hard line. As she found a gap where she could squeeze through the fence, she

shot the onlookers a scowl that dared them to comment. At least a dozen people watched her, not one saying a word, all presuming if she was doing it so openly, she was allowed to.

Finn placed a call to dispatch, giving the girl's description and requesting immediate backup. "Immediate," though, wasn't going to be fast enough.

He intercepted her. "Miss?"

That glower swung up at him. He saw a flicker of something blander, as if she was trying to force a more polite expression for him. After a moment, she gave up.

"Yes?"

Finn flashed his badge, too quick for her to read it, hoping for a reaction without pushing her to panic. But her expression didn't change.

"Security? Fine, I'm not supposed to come in there. But I've paid, see?" She waved her wrist.

"This isn't about whether you've paid - " He held up his badge. She made no move to read it, her gaze already moving on, scanning the crowd.

"I'm Detective Findlay. I believe we spoke earlier on Robyn Peltier's phone."

Her head swung around fast enough to cause whiplash, and what little color she had in her cheeks drained.

She bolted, but Finn was ready, lunging and catching her arm.

"Hey," a voice slurred. "You can't do that." A kid, not old enough to drink, lurched toward them, eyes glazed as he waved at Finn's badge. "I got a cell phone, you know. Let go of her or you'll be starring on You Tube, asshole."

Finn kept his grip on the girl's arm, deftly steering out of the drunk kid's way, while keeping him in sight.

"Miss, I need to ask you - "

Someone whacked him between the shoulder blades. His grip relaxed just as she yanked. She slid free and dove into the crowd now surrounding them, cell phones out.

Finn went after her, shouldering his way through the mob. He kept looking for his backup. No sign of it. He called his lieutenant, updating him as quickly as possible, then getting off the phone. The girl was running now. Everyone got out of her way. Not everyone got out of his, a few intentionally stepping into his path, making him veer around them.

"Finn! I got her!" Damon's voice rose above the din. "She's heading toward the kiddie section. I think there's an exit there."

Following Damon's voice, Finn rounded a corner. The people there, not having witnessed the altercation, saw only a big man bearing down on them... and stepped aside. Ahead he could see the girl's yellow shirt flashing through the darkness.