“So that’s the boy who made the 911 call.”
Santo glanced to Bricker when he made that comment as they filed into the Caprellis’ country-style kitchen. Noting Bricker’s frown, he asked, “Problem?”
“No.” Bricker settled into one of the chairs at the table. “I read him when Marguerite asked about neighbors, and he’s definitely worried about this Mr. Purdy.”
“Sì.” Santo leaned against the light-colored kitchen counter and crossed his arms over his chest. Smiling at his aunt, he added, “It was clever of you to ask that.”
“Yes,” Bricker acknowledged as Zani settled in the chair next to his. “It made Parker think of his worries for the old man. His call definitely wasn’t a prank.”
“We told you that when you got here,” Marguerite reminded them as she put the teakettle on to boil.
“Yes, but you hadn’t talked to him yet,” Bricker pointed out. “And you hadn’t talked to Purdy either, so you couldn’t know for sure.”
“I told you, the boy was in school when we got here,” Marguerite said, sounding irritated at the implied criticism. She walked to the table and sat down across from Bricker and Zani before continuing. “We would have gone over after he came home but were waiting on you boys. We didn’t want you to arrive to an empty house.”
“And we did try Purdy’s house,” Julius added, stepping up behind Marguerite to rub her shoulders soothingly. “We were hoping to resolve the matter that way, but there was no answer when we knocked. Unfortunately, we could not break in to see this cousin for ourselves. This neighborhood is surprisingly busy during the day. In fact, the Caprellis were out working on their front garden at the time and would have seen us. It’s part of the reason we came here to talk to them.”
“And we learned quite enough from the Caprellis to justify further investigation,” Marguerite added firmly.
“What was that?” Santo asked solemnly. He, Bricker, and Zani hadn’t had the chance to ask any of this when they’d arrived. They’d been asked by Garrett Mortimer, the head of the immortal Enforcers, to stop in Albany on their way back to Toronto from a job in New Brunswick. Once here, Marguerite and Julius had played them the 911 call and then herded them next door to meet Parker. And the aunt, Santo thought, an image of the petite woman popping up in his mind and making him smile.
“The Caprellis are a nice retired couple who like to keep an eye on the neighborhood,” Marguerite explained. “They told us that the Peters are both doctors, and Parker is their only child. He attends a special school for gifted children, is very helpful and respectful, and not prone to playing pranks. We also learned that the Caprellis too had noticed some odd goings-on when it came to Mr. Purdy.”
“What kind of odd goings-on?” Zani asked, sitting forward in his seat.
“For one thing, they haven’t seen the gentleman for nearly a week, when they would normally see him out in his garden every morning and afternoon,” Marguerite said. “The Caprellis have also spotted other people entering the house at odd hours, mostly late at night, which is apparently unusual too. The couple were becoming concerned to the point that Mr. Caprelli was considering going over to check on the man today. Our arrival prevented that.”
“Probably a good thing,” Santo rumbled, thinking that if Mr. Purdy’s visitor was actually a rogue immortal, he might be a danger to anyone who confronted him. Well, any mortal who confronted him anyway.
“We thought so too,” Julius admitted quietly. “We decided that between the Caprellis’ own concerns for Mr. Purdy and their opinion that Parker wouldn’t make crank calls, it was enough to at least warrant looking into the situation. We called Mortimer, and he agreed.”
“So you sent the Caprellis to Texas and moved in,” Bricker suggested with amusement.
“Yes.” Marguerite smiled with satisfaction. “The Council bought them plane tickets and rented them a suite in a nice hotel near their daughter.”
Bricker nodded but then raised an eyebrow and asked, “But why do we need a base? Why not merely raid the house and sort things out quickly?”
Santo noted the way Marguerite glanced at him, and away, and felt his gaze narrow with suspicion.
It was his uncle who answered that question. “Because Mortimer looked into Max Purdy. He felt sure the name sounded familiar. It didn’t take much searching for him to realize where it had come up. Purdy is a second cousin to Dr. Dressler.”
Santo stiffened, his body going hot and then cold as a sudden rushing sound filled his ears. While he grappled with the cacophony of emotions swamping him, his uncle went on.
“Mortimer wants to move very cautiously here. Dressler is a top priority target. He wants no mistakes that might allow the man to escape us again. He is rounding up as many men as he can spare to join us. In the meantime, he wants us to watch the house twenty-four hours a day and try to discern if the cousin is Dressler or not.”
There was a moment of silence during which Santo was aware that everyone was looking his way. He knew they were awaiting a reaction. He could feel their tension and knew they were preparing themselves to stop him if he suddenly ran from the room. No doubt they expected him to try to charge straight to Purdy’s home and crash through the door to hunt Dressler. Santo almost would have expected that reaction himself and was quite sure that was exactly what he would have done before his trip to Punta Cana and the counseling he’d agreed to after. But now, as the first shock and emotional rush began to wane, he found himself oddly calm.
Realizing they needed some response before they would relax, he gave an abrupt nod and muttered, “Makes sense.”
He almost smiled when everyone exhaled in audible relief, but the urge died quickly as he realized what their reactions revealed. His family had obviously been worrying about him. He disliked troubling others.
“Well,” Bricker said, and then cleared his throat before asking, “Wouldn’t it have been easier to watch Purdy’s place from the kid’s house? We’d have an unimpeded view of the Purdy house from there.”
“True,” Marguerite agreed. “But it would have meant controlling the Peters, and then Pet plus the maid nonstop, and though both doctors are away at the moment, the mother will be back this weekend, and we have no idea when the father will return. It could be tomorrow. Meanwhile, this investigation could take weeks. We decided there were too many opportunities for mistakes that way.”
Bricker glanced from Santo to Zani and then back to the couple to point out, “You could have sent them away for a long period like you did—”
“They are doctors, Bricker,” Marguerite reminded him sharply. “Mr. Peters is an oncologist and Mrs. Peters is a surgeon. They have patients and schedules and—” She shook her head. “It is one thing to send a nice retired couple on a vacation they wanted to go on anyway and quite another to disrupt the lives of two doctors who have important positions keeping mortals healthy and even alive.”
Santo grunted in agreement and then straightened away from the counter and slipped out of the kitchen. He followed the hall to the front of the house and then ducked through the last door on the left. It led into a small sitting area. Santo crossed to a side window and tugged the drapes aside to peer out. This house sat farther forward on the street than the boy’s. He had an unhindered view of the front of the house belonging to Mr. Purdy. He stared briefly at the two-story clapboard building, noting that the drapes were all closed and the yard empty. He then turned away and abruptly paused when he saw that everyone had followed him.
A wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, he nodded and then moved past them to make his way back down the hall to the rear of the house. He took the last door again, but now it was on his right, directly opposite the kitchen. This was a dining room, and Santo moved to the last side window to peer out again. It looked out over a stretch of grass, and then the garage next door blocked anything else from view.
“There is a tree house at the back of this property,” Marguerite said as she joined him at the window.
Santo glanced around at that soft announcement and then followed her pointing finger. A large oak tree stood at the back of the property and he could see a wooden structure perched in its branches.
“It is a little old,” Marguerite continued. “But Julius checked it out and said it is still sturdy and allows a very clear view of the back of the Purdy house.”
“A tree house?” Bricker asked with dismay, joining them at the window to look out with a scowl. “I’m guessing it’s not air-conditioned?”
“No, and no electricity or furniture either,” Julius said with exasperation as he entered the room with Zanipolo on his heels. “It is a kid’s tree house, Justin, not a four-star hotel.”
“I’ll watch from the tree house,” Santo said as Bricker opened his mouth on what would no doubt have been another complaint.
“Did you read Petronella, Santo?” Marguerite asked suddenly.
“The aunt?” he asked with surprise, his mouth turning down at the name. He hadn’t heard it in at least a century. It wasn’t used much anymore. He could understand why. He didn’t care for the name.
“Yes, the aunt,” Marguerite said dryly. “She’s Parker’s mother’s twin sister. Did you read her?”
“No,” he admitted, and was surprised himself that he hadn’t. He should have. Normally he would have, but Santo had found himself distracted just looking at the woman. She was a cute little bundle. An inch or two above five feet, willow thin, and with long black hair. The name Petronella hadn’t really suggested an Asian background. Neither did Parker Peters, for that matter.
Thinking of the boy made him recall how protective Pet had been of him. Santo had noted the way she’d clutched at his shoulders, keeping him close. He’d got the distinct impression she’d wanted to push him behind her, as if she felt she needed to put herself between him and the world. Or Parker and them, Santo thought, not liking that idea. He worried it was himself who’d intimidated her. He knew most people found him alarming because of his size, and didn’t like the idea that she might fear him.