Once upon a time it had shelves for towels. The shelves had been removed to make room for her body.
Now it smelled like sawdust from her recent sanding, another desperate, itinerant task. When her fingers brushed the wall, they came away powder-soft, a thin film coating them.
She pulled the door closed and darkness swelled. It slid over her face and hands, along the side of her throat, and pooled at the back of her neck. It was like a cat rubbing against her.
She surrendered to it.
The world thinned, a gossamer curtain falling away into nothing but pitch. A compass, unseen but felt, whirled inside her. It searched for a location to latch onto, two points to align in the dark.
Something snagged, and the sense of weightlessness evaporated and gravity returned.
Lou stepped from the shadows toward the sound of voices.
“I’m thinking of Todrick’s I Like Boys,” a gruff voice said.
“I love that song,” Piper said, shifting her weight against the door where she leaned. “Such a bop. It’ll be fun to dance to.”
The kitchen was dark and quiet, as well as the open living room adjacent. At the start of a hallway was the lit bathroom where Piper stood, ankles and arms crossed.
She turned away from the light of the bathroom toward Lou, as if sensing her arrival. Then she did a double take, eyes widening.
She stepped away from the frame and slammed her index finger against her lips.
“What?” the gruff voice asked.
“I thought I heard something,” Piper said. She made a frantic knocking sound with her hand.
Lou understood, lifted her hand, and rapped against the closed door beside her.
“Coming,” Piper called. She opened and closed her front door, her eyes never leaving Lou’s face. “Hey, Lou-blue. So nice of you to drop in.”
A bedazzled head popped out of the bathroom, looking like an exotic bird checking to see if the coast was clear of predators. His face sparkled.
Lou remembered this one. Henry, she thought. Or was it Harry?
“Oh hey,” he said. “We were just talking about you. Are you coming to the show tonight?”
Piper looked as interested in this answer as Henry.
“I have work,” Lou said. To Piper, “I came to see if you wanted to join me.”
“Ohh,” Henry said with a dramatic gasp. “Fun crime-fighting stuff? Are you going to cuff someone?”
He waggled his eyebrows.
Piper let out a nervous laugh. “We aren’t cops, H.”
“Well, either way, duty calls. Do you care if I finish up here and lock up after I leave?” he asked.
“You’re assuming I’m going to go. What about your show?”
“Pfft. Girl, you’ve seen me shake my ass a million times. You’re not missing anything. Go save the world.”
“Grab a coat,” Lou said quietly.
“What’s that?” Henry poked his head out of the bathroom.
“Good luck with your show,” Lou said, pitching her voice louder.
He smiled and tilted his head. “Thanks, girl. Have fun with the handcuffs.”
Piper grabbed a coat off the back of the kitchen door and forced her arms through the sleeves. As they stepped into Piper’s stairwell and shut the apartment door behind them, Piper made a show of stomping on a few of the stairs, but they never reached the floor below, which opened onto King’s detective agency.
Instead, Piper felt an arm hook around her waist the moment before she was jerked through the dark.
Piper might have been disturbed by this, the sense of compression and falling, if she hadn’t traveled in Lou’s special way many times before.
When the world reformed around them, it revealed a pine forest. The smell of sticky sap, pungent and thick, saturated the air. The air was also noticeably cooler, which explained Lou’s insistence on a jacket despite the ninety-degree weather holding New Orleans hostage.
“Oh, wow.” Piper sucked in a deep breath. “It smells like Christmas up in here.”
Lou was looking at the GPS watch on her wrist. The screen illuminated her face green and created deep shadows beneath her lips and nose.
Moonlight shifted through the clouds, giving Piper the impression of spirits wandering between the creaking trees.
“Not that I don’t love coming to the forest in the middle of the night, but, uh, what are we doing here? The creep factor is quite high right now.”
“We’re looking for a body.”
“Oh, that’s nice. I feel better already,” Piper deadpanned. “What body?”
“One of Fish’s.”
The mere mention of the serial killer they’d captured five months ago brought the situation into clearer view. This wasn’t the first time she’d been invited to a find-a-murdered-body dig-along. In fact, they’d uncovered fourteen bodies more than the thirty Jeffrey Fish had confessed to since his arrest in March.
Piper’s suspicions were confirmed when she saw the two shovels propped against the tree, their blades glinting. And the sight of the shovels told Piper two very important things.
First, Lou was going crazy and running out of ways to self-soothe. That explained why she smelled like bleach.
Second, Piper needed to do the digging.
Lou stepped carefully through the low-lying ferns until she seemed to settle on a spot. She checked her GPS watch again.
Something cried shrilly overhead, thrashing the branches as it passed.
Just a bird, Piper told herself. Maybe a bat.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Ohio. The Zaleski State Forest.” Lou grabbed a shovel. “It’s here. Beneath me.”
“No.” Piper knew better than to question Lou’s amazing abilities, one of which meant she could find anything she was looking for. What she objected to was the shovel in Lou’s hand.
“No,” she said again, pulling at the shovel. It didn’t budge.
“Okay, so you’re still stronger than me, but I don’t need to tell you that shoveling will destroy your shoulder, do I? Do you remember what happened last time?”
Because of course there had been a last time. Lou insisted on trying to dig up every body they found and it never ended well. Lou’s stubbornness seemed as infinite as her high tolerance for pain.
“Maybe I can do it this time,” Lou said.
“And maybe you’ll keep on being wounded for the rest of your life. I know this is hard for you, but please just wait until the full recovery time is up and you get the doctor’s approval, okay?”
Lou relinquished the shovel and Piper stumbled back.
Damn, she’s strong.
Lou looked away. “I should get Dani to help you.”
“Don’t bother. She’s got an editorial deadline.” Piper put the tip of the spade into the earth and pressed hard with the heel of her sneaker. The earth broke open easily. Maybe it’d been raining.
Lou dropped into a crouch a few feet away.
Piper didn’t mind shoveling with an audience, but twenty licks in she asked, “I’m in the right spot, correct?”
Lou gave a nod barely registerable in the dark. If the moonlight hadn’t been abundant, Piper would be digging blind.
She was sure the canopy cover helped keep the forest cool, and there was a light breeze. She could hear water somewhere in the distance, and smelled it too. A nearby river or stream likely cut through the woods.
And yet despite the coolness, a thin line of sweat formed on her brow and the back of her neck as she labored.
The wooden handle turned in her grip, growing slicker. The muscles in her back were already talking to her. Her hands began to ache.
Lou seemed to pick up the thread where she’d dropped it. “We need Dani to report the body. She’s the one with the media contacts.”
“If we find a body you can just send Dani the coordinates. These journalists need almost nothing to follow a lead, man. They’re like bloodhounds.”
Piper was about tw
o feet down when she asked, “Where’d you get the shovels?”
“I borrow them from a ditch digger in Alabama.”
Were ditch diggers still a thing? “He knows you’re borrowing his stuff?”
“No. And I put them back in a slightly different place each time.”
“Don’t do that!” Piper said, pausing to wipe her face. “Poor guy will think he’s losing his mind.”
Then she thought glumly, Maybe we’re all losing our minds.
She was three feet down when she asked, “We do stuff, right?”
Lou’s face was unreadable in the dark. Part of her cheek and jaw had collected moonlight, but her eyes and mouth were invisible.
“I don’t understand the question,” Lou said.
“Do we do stuff?”
“Can I have an example?” Lou inched forward into the moonlight, revealing her face.
“Do we hang out, go to the movies—you know, stuff?”
“We’ve had pizza in New York.”
“Yes!” Piper said. “Though that was a lunch break in the middle of the Bennigan case.”
“We went to that party in Italy,” Lou added. “You got drunk.”
Piper frowned. “It was a mob boss party. We went so Konstantine could get the name of that stalker for you.”
She stopped shoveling and tried to catch her breath.
“Have we really not done anything that’s not related to bad guys?” She frowned. “You picked me up from my mom’s house when—no, wait. You came because King sent you.”
Piper didn’t want to think about that night anyway. Her mom with a needle hanging out of her arm and her abusive boyfriend wielding a shotgun as if that is an appropriate reaction to someone wanting to move out.
“We watched all seven seasons of that show,” Lou said. “The one with the dragons.”
Piper pumped a fist. “Yes. Yes, we did.”
“It wasn’t very good. Though I liked the fight scenes.”
“You would. But worst ending ever.”
“We’re still watching the one about the killer who hunts killers.”
“Dexter. Oh, and there’s Killing Eve! I want to see that one. Wait.” Piper’s excitement vanished. “Is that all we do? Eat and watch television?”
“We are supposed to leave for the road trip Friday.”
“Right!” Piper’s enthusiasm returned like a loyal dog. “Road trips are excellent for bonding. There’s music and snacks and talking. Wait, what do you mean, supposed to? Aren’t you still coming?”
“Yes,” Lou said. “But things come up.”
“Nothing will come up,” Piper said. “We’re going and we’ll have the time of our lives.”
She shoved the end of the spade down into the hole again—and cracked something. “I think—”
“Let me,” Lou called, and hopped down into the hole.
Using her fingerless-gloved hand, Lou brushed away the disturbed earth until two black sockets gazed up at them.
3
Lou and Piper stood on the street outside Madame Melandra’s Fortune and Fixes with two duffels sitting between their feet. One was stuffed with Piper’s clothes, her wallet, and a neon blue phone charger.
Piper was hot. The day had barely started and she could already feel the heat thrown over her like a thick blanket. She just hoped that whatever car Dani chose from the rental place had a working air conditioner.
Staring at her feet, the black bag finally came into focus. Piper frowned. “What’s in your bag?”
Lou grinned, her eyes safely guarded behind her mirrored shades. Her hands rested in the pockets of her leather jacket.
How she could wear it in this heat, Piper didn’t know.
“Probably guns,” Piper guessed. “But hopefully also underwear.”
Lou snorted. “What makes you think I wear underwear?”
It was Piper’s turn to giggle.
A Lexus rolled up to the curb. From the driver’s seat, Dani gave a friendly honk and waved.
Piper pointed at the trunk and it popped open. She threw the bags in and went to the passenger-side window, motioning for Dani to roll it down.
“You didn’t have to rent such a posh car. We would’ve been fine with a compact.”
“It’s mine,” Dani said, and gave a sheepish grin. “My mom wanted a new car, so she gave me her old one. And it’s only got ten thousand miles on it, so I thought we could just break it in.”
This is the old car? Heat crawled up the back of Piper’s neck. Must be nice.
“What’s wrong?” Dani asked when Piper opened the door.
“Nothing,” she lied, sliding into the passenger seat. “This is great.”
Dani adjusted the seatbelt across her chest. “I’ll drive first. I’ll be good until at least Houston.”
Piper gestured to the I-10 sign. “We need to stop at a gas station for snacks.”
“Got it,” Dani said, the good humor still seizing her expression.
At least someone is having a good time, Piper thought. They hadn’t even started and Lou looked bored as hell, stoic as a statue in the backseat.
When Piper had first thought of the road trip idea months ago, she’d been excited.
Lou had gotten shot and almost died, and as she lay in a hospital for days, all Piper could think about was how Lou needed more good things in her life. It was true they watched TV and went out to eat. They’d been in a bar together a few times. But that wasn’t enough.
The road trip was the shift they needed. With music and hours on the highway with only the summer wind in their hair, they could make real memories. Good, drama-free memories.
Take that, Henry, she thought. And this way, if the crime-fighting ever ends, Lou will still have a reason to be my friend.
Because Piper knew nothing lasted forever. King could close the detective agency or decide to retire for real given his age—and then what? What reason would Lou have to stay in touch with her?
This will be fun, Piper insisted. She wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince. Everyone is going to have a great time, and Lou—
“Do I just sit back here?” Lou asked, poking her head up between the seats.
Piper pinched the bridge of her nose.
“There’s the playlist,” Dani offered.
“Good idea.” Piper connected her phone to the car’s Bluetooth system and turned on the playlist she’d made.
“I added a few NIN songs since you said you liked them. And I’ve got a lot of Alanis Morissette, some classic rock, Beyoncé, Ludacris, Paramore, and—”
The speakers began to thump.
“What is this?” Lou asked.
“‘Imma Be,’” Piper said, adjusting the bass on the stereo. “The Black Eyed Peas.”
Lou’s facial expression was unreadable.
This will work, Piper told herself. We’ll have fun. We’ll make memories. And no one is going to get shot.
* * *
Lou sat in the back of the car, trying to ignore the throbbing ache in her shoulder. She wasn’t sure why her body would ache after just sitting. It wasn’t getting the workout it would in a firefight or even the taxing movement of pulling a gun.
Dani and Piper sang off-key to “Toxic” by Britney Spears.
Piper looked back at her hopefully, then pretended to extend the invisible microphone she held in her fist out to Lou.
“I’m hungry,” Lou said into Piper’s fist.
Piper undid her seatbelt and leaned into the backseat. “We’ve got Doritos, Pringles, gummy bears—”
“Doritos.”
“That’s my girl.” Piper popped open the bag and took a chip for herself. “Mmm, ranch.”
But eating the chips only temporarily distracted Lou from the pain in her shoulder and the boring backseat.
As she counted the highway markers and noted the San Antonio 134 miles sign, she wondered how she was going to get through this.
“For dinner, I’m thinking about Taco Bell,” Pip
er said.
“Oh god, no,” Dani said. “Taco Bell goes right through me. Can we do Burger King? They’ve got a veggie burger.”
“Fine. I like their milkshakes.”
“Let’s do dinner at seven,” Dani said, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. “We can switch then.”
“Burger King at seven,” Piper confirmed, tearing open the bag of gummy bears. “I’m going to get the Whopper with cheese. And a Dr Pepper.”
“Thought you wanted a milkshake?” Dani asked, cracking her window a little more.
“And a milkshake. What about you?”
“Probably a Sprite.”
Piper nodded as if she’d barely heard this. “How do you guys feel about ‘Where Them Girls At’?”
Lou counted the minutes to seven with growing restlessness. When seven passed with no Burger King in sight, she was agitated. 7:20. 7:42. 7:53. 8:23. Her foot bounced in the well behind Dani’s seat.
The world darkened and shadows filled the car like rising water. They slithered across her muscles, making her flesh crawl. The gentle pull inside her grew stronger.
She strained against it, willing herself to stay in her seat, the thin beams of moonlight like ropes to salvations.
“We could pick something else?” Dani offered, glancing at the clock. “I don’t need a veggie burger. I could go for a—”
Lou felt the shadows around her soften, deepening. I can’t—
“I’ll get it.” She exhaled and gave herself over to the darkness. The car, the music, Dani and Piper’s soft conversation all bled away.
They were replaced with fresh night air and starlight.
Lou looked up and saw the Burger King sign. It felt good to be on her own two feet. She sucked in a lungful of fresh air. It smelled like garbage, a huge dumpster standing below the lit sign. She didn’t care. It was still heavenly.
Inside, she ordered the food, getting three sodas and the milkshake into a carry carton. She gripped the sack of food in her other fist.
She stepped out into the night and wondered if she really needed to go back right away. Maybe she could wander for a bit.
But then they might stop somewhere else for food.
A guy on the sidewalk wearing a Burger King shirt lit a cigarette. “Have a good night.”
Devil’s Luck Page 2
