Page 53 of The District

Families and tourists clogged the streets, dipping in and out of shops and browsing through trinkets set out on the sidewalk.

They ducked inside the restaurant where they were meeting Nigel, and the cool darkness enveloped Christina along with scents of garlic and hot peppers.

Nigel waved a folded newspaper at them from a corner table. When they approached, he stood up and pulled out Christina’s chair. “Welcome, welcome. I’ll pour the tea.”

As they sat, Nigel aimed a steady stream of pale green liquid into the delicate cups.

Christina inhaled the fragrant essence of jasmine, slipping into a relaxed state. She wrapped one hand around the warm cup and sipped. She skimmed a finger down the plastic menu and asked, “Are we ordering for the table? Because I’m just going to steal tastes of your food anyway.”

“Table style.” Nigel winked. “So tell me what happened last night. I heard all hell broke loose.”

Eric finished his tea in one gulp and poured more. “Who told you that?”

“I have friends in high places.”

“Did they give you the details?”

“I’m persona non grata in those circles now. They think I brought you in.”

Christina closed the menu and tapped it on the table. “I was attacked. A woman named Uma sent me outside, across the quad to look for the bathrooms and I was met by a masked man with a formaldehyde-soaked cloth.”

Nigel’s gray brows jumped. “I didn’t hear that. Are you okay? How’d you get away?”

“Eric came looking for me. My assailant got distracted by his voice and I tossed some hot coffee in his eyes.”

Nigel rubbed his own eyes. “Look for someone with some burns around his eyes.”

“Right, in all of San Francisco.” Eric twisted his head around to look for the waiter.

“Then you crashed back into the meeting and accused everyone there of a conspiracy?”

“We asked about Uma.” Christina tipped a menu toward Nigel. “I’m assuming you don’t know her either since the name didn’t register with you when I mentioned her.”

He held up a crooked finger. “Hold on.”

The waiter approached the table and took their order.

Nigel took a sip of water. “Okay. What did Uma look like?”

“Blonde, medium height. Looked about thirty.”

“Attractive?”

“I’d say so. She was wearing jeans and an embroidered peasant blouse—loose and flowing.”

“I think I saw her, but I didn’t recognize her.”

Eric asked, “Did you see her talking to anyone at the meeting?”

“Geoffrey Vandenbrook. You met him. He was at the front door greeting people, the one with the teeth filed to points.”

“Was he just greeting her, or was it something more sinister?” Christina swirled the last drops of tea in her cup.

“I have no way of knowing that, Christina. You’re the one with the special powers.” Nigel rearranged some plates on the table to make way for the steaming dishes the waiter was rolling over on a cart.

They all kept quiet while the waiter placed the plates on the table along with bowls stuffed with mounds of white rice.

Ignoring the food, Eric picked up his fork and aimed it at Nigel. “I thought you had something to tell us, something about the coven that’s being targeted.”

Nigel turned one of the bowls upside down and the rice plopped onto his plate. “I do have something to tell you, Agent Brody, something about the past, not the present.”

A tingle of apprehension rippled through Christina, and she crumpled the napkin in her lap.

“Spill it.” Eric’s shoulders lifted.

“This coven from south of the border has been involved in misusing its powers for the past twenty-five years or so. This latest spate of bad behavior is nothing new.”

“The past twenty-five years?” Eric’s voice sounded tight, matching his face.

“And twenty years ago, they were involved in a kidnapping.”

Eric dropped his fork. “What are you trying to tell me?”

Nigel pinched a piece of chicken between his chopsticks and held it up. “I’m telling you, Agent Brody, that this coven was involved in your kidnapping twenty years ago.”

Chapter Fourteen

Eric snapped his chopstick in two. How many more bombshells could he take this week?

“Are you sure about this?” Even as he said the words, a vision of that necklace hanging from the female kidnapper’s neck flashed in his head.

“Most of the occult community in the Bay Area knows it to be true.”

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