Page 18 of Equalizer
They found a skinny, dark-haired man cowering behind the trash bins, looking like he’d had a fright.
Calvin dragged him up by his collar. “Why were you following us?” Unfortunately, his touch magic worked less reliably on fabric and barely at all skin-to-skin.
“I wasn’t?—”
“The ghosts say you were,” Owen said with a cold smile. “I sent them for you. Want to see them again? Maybe it will help your memory.”
“No! Please. Don’t,” the man protested.
“Why were you following us?”
The man’s gaze darted around, and while Owen could feel the presence of the ghosts nearby, they were hiding themselves for now.
“A man said he would pay me. Wanted to know where you went. I’m supposed to meet him and tell him what you did, and he’ll give me money,” their captive blurted.
“What did he look like?” Calvin demanded.
“Short. Dark hair and dark eyes. Black shirt and pants. Never saw him before. Listen, I don’t have anything against you. It’s just, I need the money,” the man begged.
“Where were you supposed to meet him?” Owen glanced around them. No one seemed to be paying attention.
“Behind the train station in an hour. Look—if you let me go, I’ll run in the opposite direction. You’ll never see me again, and I won’t report in,” the man offered.
“But he’ll know something’s up,” Owen said. “And he’ll come looking for you. Let’s keep your appointment. All of us.”
They only had halfan hour to wait. Owen and Calvin watched from behind the shelter of two stacks of crates while the man paced at the station’s cargo entrance. The ghosts remained nearby, just in case.
Owen checked his watch. “He’s late.”
“Give it time,” Calvin said.
Ten minutes later, the contact still hadn’t shown up. Their stalker looked ready to panic. By twenty after, Owen figured the man wasn’t going to come.
“He stood you up,” Owen told the spy. “Or someone stopped him from coming.” He took some cash out of his pocket and gave it to the man. “Get as far away from here as you can and don’t come back. I don’t know what game someone is playing, but you’re going to be the loser if you stick around.”
“And forget anything you saw about where we were or what we did,” Calvin chimed in. “Make something up if anyone asks. Got that?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I’ll be on my way.” He scrambled to get out of sight, and Owen watched him go.
“What do you think is going to happen?” Calvin asked Owen as they checked their surroundings and headed back to the train.
“Poor bastard is a dead man walking,” Owen muttered. “He’s seen the contact, so he could recognize whoever sent him after us. The guy who hired him isn’t going to want to leave witnesses. I suspect his boss spotted us with him and called off the rendezvous.”
“Seems like a lot of bother,” Calvin said. “Which side do you think it is? Mobsters or witches?”
“Dunno. It could even be someone involved with grave robbing if they think we’re onto them,” Owen replied. “We haven’t been able to follow the money to guess who’s involved in that racket.”
They kept walking to the train car, wary of their surroundings but not noticing anything unusual or anyone who paid them particular attention, and reached the Pullman without incident.
“I’m glad Winston put down wardings,” Owen said as he felt the familiar frisson when they crossed. “I feel like we’re sitting ducks, being in the station and not moving.”
“Hard to do our job in Chicago and not actually beinChicago,” Calvin replied.
“You know what I meant.”
Owen breathed a sigh of relief once they were inside. He didn’t know whether the informant would have reported their details to a would-be assassin or whether an unknown player decided to keep track of them, but the uncertainty kept him tense the whole way back.
The car smelled of mulled cider and freshly baked cookies, reminding Owen once again that they had the best attaché ever in Winston.Plus he’s a witch and a good shot. We hit the jackpot.
