“Promise.”
“Katherine. Estelle is mine. She is part of me. If she is destroyed, part of me is destroyed as well. I have an interest in protecting her. I promise.”
Drama, tension, excitement! What a great setup for a show! But at the moment I would have given my pelt to have the whiny goth chicks back.
“I’m going to break for station identification. When we return, I hope I’ll have a wrap-up for you on our sudden special broadcast of ‘Elijah Smith: Exposed.’” I switched the phone lines off the air and said, “All right, Estelle. It’s up to you.”
“Okay. Okay. Arturo, come get me. I’m at the Speedy Mart on Seventy-fifth.”
Arturo’s line clicked off.
“You okay, Estelle?” I asked.
“Yeah. Yes, I’m all right.” She had stopped crying and seemed almost calm. The decision had been made. She could stop running, for a little while at least.
I had one more call to make—to the cavalry, just in case. I should have called the police. Hardin—she’d help Estelle. Yeah, she’d take Estelle to a hospital. And they wouldn’t know what to do with her. They wouldn’t understand, and it would take too long to explain.
A normal person would have called the police. But I pulled a scrap of paper out of my contact book, got an outside line, and dialed. After six rings, I almost hung up. Then, “Yeah.” Mobile phone static underlaid the voice.
“Cormac? Have you been listening to the show tonight?”
“Norville? Why would I be listening to your show?”
Oh, yeah, he could pretend, but I knew the truth. He’d listened once, it could happen again. “One of my callers is in trouble. Arturo says he’ll help her, but I don’t trust him. I want to make sure she doesn’t get caught in a cross fire. Can you go help? Make sure nobody dies and stuff?”
“Arturo? Arturo is helping? She’s a vampire, isn’t she.” It might have been a question, but he didn’t make it sound like one.
“Yeah, actually.”
“You’re out of your mind.”
“Yup. Look, chances are Arturo will get to Estelle first and the Church people won’t even find her. But if the Church people do show up, they’ll have some pretty hard-hitting supernaturals with them. You might get to shoot one.”
“Whoa, slow down. Church?”
“Church of the Pure Faith.”
“Hm. A buddy of mine was hired to go in there and never got through. I’ve been wanting to get a look at them.”
“Here’s your chance,” I said brightly.
“Right. I’ll check it out, but no promises.”
“Good enough. Thanks, Cormac.” I gave him the address. He grunt
ed something resembling a sign-off.
Matt was signaling through the window. Time up. On-air light on. Okay. “We’re back to The Midnight Hour. Estelle?”
“Kitty! A car just pulled up. It’s not Arturo; I think it’s people from the Church. They’ll kill me, Kitty. We’re not supposed to leave; they’ll take me back and then—I’ve told you everything and now everybody knows—”
“Okay, Estelle. Stay down. Help’s on the way.”
Matt leaned in and didn’t bother to muffle his voice for the mike this time. His expression was taut and anxious. He actually looked harried. “Line four again.”
Maybe it was Arturo checking in. Maybe I could warn him. He was Estelle’s only chance to get out of there. “Yeah?”
“Kitty, do you need help?” said a gruff, accusatory voice.