Страница 26 из 54
"I'm not asking you, I'm asking her," he said, his eyes shifting from the dog to the woman.
"I'm Casey, Mr. Chandler. Casey Burke. I'm so sorry about this. I must've dozed off."
"How did you get in here… Where's Ashlie?"
"Ashlie go home," Marlowe said, leaning back even farther so that both paws were now flapping in the air. It looked as though he was doing the wave at a football game.
"I told you to hush up," Remy scolded the dog. "I want answers from you." He pointed at the woman from the doorway. He didn't sense any danger from her, but it still didn't change the fact that she was a stranger sitting on his couch in his living room.
"I came by to see you, and Ashlie told me that you had gone out for the evening. I must've looked really pathetic because she asked if I wanted to come in and write you a note."
Remy scowled, upset that the teenager could have been so foolish.
"Don't be mad at her," Casey said quickly, putting her feet down and slipping into her shoes. "I started explaining my situation a little and got kind of upset. She thought that maybe I should hang around until you got back."
Remy sighed, exasperated, and leaned against the door frame. "Where is she now?"
"She wasn't feeling too good," Casey explained, making a sort of embarrassed face. "You know, female problems."
"So she just left you here? A stranger, in my house with my dog?"
"No stranger. Casey," Marlowe informed him.
"I know it's Casey," he said, a
The woman started to laugh, abruptly stopping when she realized that Remy was staring at her.
"I'm sorry," she said. "It's just that somebody I'm very close to used to do the same thing with our cat."
Remy tilted his head, frowning quizzically.
"You know, the whole talking-to-the-animal thing, as if they know what you're saying."
He sensed her mood suddenly darken as she lowered her head, looking down at her hands. Marlowe moved closer, nuzzling her arm in hopes that petting him would cheer her up.
"That somebody is actually why I'm here, Mr. Chandler," Casey said, rubbing Marlowe's ears. Remy could hear the dog rumbling with pleasure. "My fiance… Jon Stall is missing… has been missing for the last few weeks."
Feeling his ire start to subside, Remy shucked off his still-dripping coat. "Ms. Burke…"
"Casey," she interrupted him. "Please call me Casey."
Remy sighed. "Fine, Casey." He quickly went out into the hallway, hung the coat on the closet doorknob, and came back into the living room.
"Casey, this type of thing is usually handled at my office," he explained. "And even then…"
"I've been to the police and they had me fill out all the proper paperwork, but I really don't think they took me all that seriously, and besides, he told me to come to you if anything happened to him."
Remy was surprised by the revelation. "You said his name is Jon Stall?"
The pretty woman nodded. "Jon Philip Stall. He's a professor at Mass Tech… Biology."
He repeated the name again. It didn't ring any bells. "I'm sorry, but I don't recall the name," he said as he walked through the living room toward the kitchen. "Listen, I'm going to make a pot of coffee, would you like some?" he asked her.
"I would love another cup of tea, if that would be all right," she said, getting up from the couch and following, Marlowe close behind.
"Apple?" the dog asked.
"I'll get you an apple in a minute," Remy told the dog as he filled the teakettle and placed it on the stove. He then started to prepare his coffee, deciding on a full pot. He suspected it was going to be one of those nights.
"The week before he…" Casey paused. It was obvious that she was taking her boyfriend's disappearance quite hard. "The week before Jon went away, he talked about you a lot."
She was standing in the kitchen doorway, arms folded across her chest.
"He talked about me?" Remy asked with surprise as he scooped freshly ground Dunkin' Donuts coffee into a filter.
She nodded, pushing back a strand of dark hair that dangled in front of her pretty, oval face. "He talked about how much he admired you and what you had done with your life."
"I don't know what to say." Remy shook his head, leaning against the counter as the coffeemaker began to hiss and gurgle. "I honestly don't know who your boyfriend is."
Marlowe barked once from his spot in the middle of the kitchen floor.
"Right, your apple," Remy said, grabbing a Red Delicious from the fruit bowl and bringing it to the counter.
"Did Jon say anything specific, Casey? Anything as to how he knew me or where he knew me from?"
Remy finished cutting the apple into strips and brought them over to Marlowe's bowl. The dog bolted up from the floor, pushing Remy's hand out of the way to get at his treat.
"He said you two had come from similar backgrounds — the same town I think."
And suddenly a recognizable image began to take shape in Remy's mind. Is it possible? he wondered. Had something ridiculously fortuitous dropped into his lap…. Or is there something else going on here?
The tea water had started to boil, screeching to be noticed. Casey made a move toward it, but Remy was already on the way.
"Sorry," he said, taking the mug from her and placing a tea bag inside it. "Lost in thought there. So where was Jon from?" Remy asked, pouring the steaming water into the mug.
"Some little town north of here called Paradise."
Remy's arm twitched and he spilled hot water all over the countertop.
Paradise.
He grabbed a dishcloth and started to mop up the spill. "Sorry about that," he apologized, handing the steaming mug to Casey.
"Is that where you're from, Mr. Chandler?" she asked him, watching him intently. "Are you from Paradise?"
Images of a place that as far as he was concerned didn't exist anymore began to take shape inside Remy's head.
It was so long ago.
Chapter ten
Heaven, a very long time ago
The sword in his hand grew heavier with each passing moment, the stench of burning flesh and blood almost palpable in the air.
Remiel looked about the battlefield. What had once been golden fields of high grass that sang with joy when the celestial breezes moved through them were now trampled flat, and everywhere he looked his eyes fell upon the fallen.
He knew them all, whether they be friend or foe, for not long ago they had been brothers under God. But that was before the Morningstar gathered his forces about him and challenged the will of the Almighty.
Before the war that turned Choir against Choir, brother against brother.
It was drawing to a close now, the followers of Lucifer Morningstar either vanquished or awaiting capture. But looking about the battlefield, at the twisted wings and broken bodies of those who had died fighting, Re-miel knew it would never be the same again.
Standing there, in what had once been golden fields, he made up his mind, letting his weapon fall from his hand to lie uselessly upon the blood-soaked ground. Remiel closed his eyes, committing to his memory how it once had been.
Slowly, he removed his armor, shedding the raiment of warfare, letting that too fall useless to the ground beneath his feet.
"It is over, brother," said a voice from nearby, and Remiel slowly turned to gaze upon the visage of the angel Israfil as he walked among the dead, their bodies disintegrating to dust, carried away upon the winds as he passed.
As if they'd never been there at all.
"The legions of the Adversary have been driven to their knees before His most holy glory," Israfil told him.