CHAPTER FIVE

Chandler looked every month of his eighty-five years. I wouldn’t have said I was sorry to see it. Not only had he ordered the deaths of Jan Gunderson and Peter Evans, but he’d used his mind-control drugs to murder Jan’s father and a friend of Peter’s as a test of his new toy. Two innocent people had died and two equally innocent people were now charged with their murders.

Chandler tottered into the visitors’ area on a cane. Not because the weight of his crimes had finally become too much to bear, but because he hadn’t recovered from being shot in the leg by Gabriel last month.

When a guard strode over to help him, Chandler peered at him.

“I don’t know you,” he said to the man.

“Name’s Ransom. I was here last week when you talked to your lawyer.”

“No you weren’t. I’ve never seen you before.”

Ransom rolled his eyes and took Chandler by the arm to help him into his seat.

Chandler shook the man off. “I don’t know you.”

“Someone’s a little paranoid,” I whispered to Gabriel.

Chandler turned to us. “Mr. Walsh. I don’t believe you were invited to this tête-à-tête. If Eden feels threatened, I can assure you both I’m quite harmless here.”

“Gabriel stays,” I said. “So you’ve decided to speak to me?”

“I have.”

“That means you want something from me. Let’s get that out of the way first.”

“I called you here because I believe we can benefit one another. This was never about hurting you, Eden.”

I leaned forward, elbows on the table. “You forget I heard you give Mrs. Evans the order. Kill the girl.” He’d brainwashed Peter Evans’s wife after having their housekeeper kill Evans.

“Then you misinterpreted, which can happen when you eavesdrop, Olivia.”

Reverting to my preferred name suggested he was anxious to show his sincerity, but . . . well, I had the feeling it took someone a lot scarier than me—or even Gabriel—to make Edgar Chandler anxious.

“I offered to protect you from any fallout after Evans’s death and to help you better understand your situation,” he said. “I tried to work with you.”

That wasn’t quite how I remembered it, but I said only, “You also warned me about the hounds. You said they’d come to Cainsville and, when they did, I’d regret turning you in. Well, they’ve showed up there. Hell, they’ve showed up in a lot of places. But I’m not quite getting the ‘regret’ part.”

“Again, you misunderstood me. I never warned you against the hounds. I can promise they’re no threat to you.”

Bingo. I knew who had Chandler scared shitless.

“The Huntsmen showed you how to perfect your mind control, didn’t they?”

“Huntsmen?” He tried for an air of bewilderment.

“Cwn Annwn,” I said. “I think I’m finally pronouncing that right. Welsh. So many letters. So few vowels.”

“I realize recent events have been confusing, Eden, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No? Huh.” I looked at Gabriel. “Is it warm in here?”

“Cool, actually.”

“Then why is Edgar breaking into a sweat?”

“It’s a fever,” Chandler said. “I’ve been unwell. I’m also under a great deal of strain. You’ve heard about Anderson’s death?”

“We have,” Gabriel said. Chandler’s former bodyguard had apparently OD’d on morphine in the hospital a couple of weeks earlier. “I presume he was murdered. While you would be the obvious suspect—and mind control the obvious weapon—the fact you contacted us says you are not responsible and, moreover, you fear you’re next.” He motioned toward the guard. “Hence your paranoia.”

Silence dragged on for so long that the guard started walking over, expecting Chandler to declare the visit at an end.

“I need to make amends,” Chandler said finally.

“To us?” I said. “Oh, that’s sweet.”

Chandler looked confused.

I glanced at Gabriel. “Not to us.”

“To the Huntsmen, I take it,” Gabriel said. “You’ve outlived your usefulness, and you could be a threat.”

“There’s someone I need to . . . have removed.”

Gabriel’s brows shot up. “I provide many services, Mr. Chandler, but that one is outside my area of expertise.”

“No, I don’t think it is.”

“Then you think wrong.” A chill crept into Gabriel’s voice.

“All right. If not you, then Olivia here. She has the background for it.”

“Um, no. I—”

“I’ll tell you everything. About the hounds. The Huntsmen. My association with them. Your parents’ association with them.” An anxious smile as I reacted. “That one intrigues you, doesn’t it? I can answer every question you have, for the small price of ‘removing’ a man who, as you will discover, richly deserves it.”

“The name?” Gabriel said.

Chandler turned to him.

“I will require a name.”

A genuine smile spread across Chandler’s face. “How quickly your ethics change, boy. A word of advice: don’t feign outrage next time. It really doesn’t suit you.”

“The name?”

“Jon Childs.”

Gabriel nodded as if making a mental note. Chandler eased back in his chair, chortling to himself, and I realized he wasn’t a sociopath at all. That would imply an inability to recognize ethical boundaries. This was a man who recognized such lines and delighted in pulling others over them, because it proved they were no better than him.

I knew Gabriel didn’t have any intention of killing Jon Childs. There were a dozen reasons why, starting with the fact that he’s not an assassin and ending with the fact that he’d never play one for a guy like Chandler. But with the target’s name, we could track the man down and see why Chandler wanted him dead.

I let Chandler enjoy his amoral victory for about ten seconds. Then I leaned across the table. “People who do what you’re asking expect a down payment. I want an answer up front.”

“Nothing about your parents. I’m not that stupid.”

“What exactly did you do to piss off the Cwn Annwn?”

“I’m in here. They are not impressed.”

“Maybe. But you’re not a serious threat. You can’t unmask them. That’s like Scooby-Doo pulling off Mr. Wikles’s face and revealing a monster underneath. No one would believe you. There’s more to it. You seriously pissed them off. How?”

When Chandler didn’t answer, Gabriel said, “By targeting you, Olivia. The Cwn Annwn are courting you. They certainly don’t want you dead. Which explains Mr. Chandler’s eagerness to insist he was, in fact, not targeting you at all.”

Chandler’s hand flexed against the table.

“But there’s more,” I said. “The whole scheme to keep me from uncovering the truth about Pete’s and Jan’s deaths. Killing Will Evans and Josh Gray. That was personal, wasn’t it? Unsanctioned by the Cwn Annwn.”

“An unsanctioned use of their tool,” Gabriel said. “The mind control. You were using it for your own purposes, which is not permitted.”

Chandler glowered at us. “Why ask a question if you’re going to answer it yourselves?”

“Because it’s more fun that way,” I said. “All we need is for you to confirm it.”

“I’m not going to—”

“Your reaction already did. Not only did you use their drug without authorization, but you attempted to use it against me. No wonder they’re pissed.”

“We are indeed.” The guard—Ransom—had appeared at Chandler’s back.

When Chandler tried to scramble up, Ransom put a hand on his shoulder. It seemed a gentle touch, but Chandler’s face convulsed in pain.

I started to rise. Gabriel gripped my arm, and his touch may have been as light as the guard’s seemed, but the look in his eyes was rock hard. I followed his gaze to see the other guard and the video cameras trained around the room. Gabriel’s meaning was clear. We are in a jail. With armed security. Who will not hesitate to act if we seem to be interfering with a guard.

Ransom bent to Chandler’s ear. “Do you hear the hounds, Edgar?”

Chandler gave a jerky nod. “I—I’m sorry. It was a mistake. I’ll make amends. I’m doing that right now.”

“He is,” I cut in. “Let him make amends. Please.”

The guard didn’t appear to be more than thirty, but when he turned his gaze on me, I saw someone much older. “I’d be concerned about your sentimentality if I didn’t know you were only pleading for his life because it benefits you. Edgar here is a genius. But that does not mean we consider him an ally or that we don’t feel the need to bathe in bleach after dealing with him.”

Chandler made a noise that might have been a protest but came out as a terrified bleat.

Ransom continued. “He is a self-absorbed, egotistic maniac, Olivia. That means he lies. Consistently and pathologically. He will not tell you the truth. He will tell you whatever version of it best suits his needs. If you want answers, come to us. Only us. As for Chandler . . .” He leaned down to the man’s ear again. “You hear them coming, don’t you?”

Chandler’s head bobbed.

“Good. Then I need say no more.” He patted Chandler’s shoulder and looked at us. “Visiting time is over.”

—

On the way out, I hit the restroom. I couldn’t have been more than five minutes, but from the look Gabriel gave his watch when I exited, you’d think it had been hours. Waiting was one thing. Waiting without doing anything productive was quite another.

“You could have gone out to the car,” I said.

“I’m not leaving you alone.”

“I’m in a prison. The only danger I face is that they might decide I should stay.”

As we passed through security, I recognized the man ahead of us. It was Ransom. When we reached the parking lot, he continued to the streets beyond.

“I’d like to follow,” I said. “See where he goes.”