Win’s face instantly went worried, but if you were anyone else observing this Academy Award performance, you’d never know he was faking it.
“Coroner, you say? If I might ask, where am I?”
He said it with enough convincing trepidation that the man’s face instantly went soft, the angry red fading until he was left with only two spots of crimson on his cheeks.
“Dude, you’re in the morgue.” He scratched his head full of unruly ginger hair. “Man, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know you were blind or I wouldn’t have yelled like that.”
Win punctured the silence by bursting out laughing, startling the morgue guy. In fact, he laughed so hard, he bent at the waist. “The morgue? Oooh, that’s brilliant!” he shook his fist at the sky. “Chester, you duplicitous toad! You brilliant, magnificent toad!”
The man looked confused and his brow furrowed. “How did you get down here, and who’s Chester?”
Win gave the corner of the room a look of amused disgust, followed by another laugh. “Apparently, my friends are playing a little joke on me. Not that I don’t deserve it, mind you. Chester’s an old college friend from Oxford and he owed me one. A big one. I’ll never forget the time we dropped a passed-out drunk Chester off at the border in Tijuana—after we’d dressed him as a woman, no less—and told him we’d be right back, wink-wink. He ended up with a boyfriend named Cicero and a marriage proposal.” Then he burst out laughing again. “I tell you, it still brings us to tears ten years later.”
“I guess that explains your sweater then,” the man quipped with a snicker, crossing his arms over his chest.
Win made a big deal out of feeling his sweater before he broke out into a grin. “It’s the Christmas sweater, isn’t it?” he asked with pretend disbelief.
The man nodded his head up and down and snorted. “It sure is, and it’s hideous. And if you could only get a load of your slippers and purse. You’d be mighty proud of your friends.”
Win reached out and felt for the man’s well-muscled shoulder and patted it. “Ah, proud I’ll be, but only after I kill them. Now, what’s your name, fine fellow?”
“Artie. Artie Richards.” He put his hand in Win’s and shook it.
“Then, Artie, would you be kind enough to give me my exact location? I’ll summon an Uber.”
“You can do that being…um, blind?”
“Oh, you’d be surprised the gadgets we have. All I have to do is speak into my phone. It’s made especially for people like me. So, my location, please?”
“You’re at Seattle General, basement level. Man, this is gonna be one for the next office party. Nobody’s ever gonna believe it.”
Win’s deep chuckle rang out once more. “Oh, this was one of the best pranks ever, I tell you!” Then he held out his hand again. “Now then, Artie, I won’t take up a moment more of your time if you’ll kindly escort me to the lobby?”
Artie finally laughed himself when he took Win’s hand and led him to the elevator we’d just screamed downward in.
As they hopped on the elevator, Win asked, “Say, chap. Would you like to know where those wankers told me I was, Artie?”
“Where’s that?”
“Dining in the dark. You know, the restaurant where you eat everything in total—”
“Darkness!” Artie finished for him, and then they both laughed until they had tears in their eyes.
“Duplicitous toad?” I repeated once Win was safely returned to the backseat of Gooch’s car. We sat in a rest area off the highway while Gooch went to make a phone call and use the facilities and we talked over what had just occurred.
Win chucked as he rested his head on the backseat. “I had to act fast, Stephania.”
“You deserve award after that, Zero. You bring tear to my eye, you are so good.”
Once I’d stopped laughing and caught my breath, I had to give him his due. “That was amazing. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought you were really blind. Nice work, Pacino.”
Win nodded, but it was a slow nod. He was over his coup in the morgue and clearly onto other things. “The most important thing is we now know that, first, you were at that hospital, Stephania. Second, unless Artie’s lying, the person who wrote your name and that information on that piece of paper was likely Egan Joseph. Third, I think this Egan likely knows where your car is, or at least what this Gordo’s is about. So it’s time to Google some names, eh?”
Now that the hijinks had passed, I sat with the knowledge that my body likely had been in that hospital morgue, but I had no idea why. It felt like a lot to unpack.
“Win, I think it’s time we bring Dana in on this. I mean, listen, we know I was there at that hospital. We know my body was there. He can help.”
He cocked his head. “Do we know that, Stephania? We have no solid proof. We have your name written on a piece of paper and an entity,” he said the word on a whisper, “that led us to that information. Also, we essentially broke into the morgue, then proceeded to lie and cheat our way out of it to boot. How shall we explain that to Dana, or any official, for that matter? We need proof you were there, and there simply isn’t any proof. Also, this isn’t exactly his jurisdiction, is it? Can we involve him in something in another county altogether?”
“I think we need to come up with code names for ghost and such. Poor Gooch is going to be scarred for life if mistakenly hears us talking and we slip. We can only pretend you’re on the phone with someone for so long before he either finds out I’m the body you’re looking for or thinks you’re completely nuts.”
Win was engrossed in looking down at his phone and typing something into the search bar, but he nodded absently. “Very well, Dove. What shall we call a you know what? All suggestions welcome.”
“I vote we keep it simple and call her the horse lady. You know, because of her riding pants.”
His nod was curt as he scoured his phone. “Good enough. The horse lady it is. Now then, would you like to know what I’ve found via Google?”
Seconds later, Gooch rapped on the back window. Win rolled it down and Gooch held up his phone. “I’m gonna be a minute, are you okay on your own? Is the car warm enough?”
“I’m fine, Gooch. Spectacular even. Go on and stretch your legs, and please, do remember, at any time you can bow out and call it a night.”
Gooch gave Win a brief smile. “Not on your life,” he said, before he slipped back off into the night, giving us the freedom to talk.
“Where was I? Google, correct? Shall I share what I found?”
Sitting back against Arkady’s arm, I said, “Hit me.”
“Egan Joseph—and I do believe this is the correct man Artie was speaking of—is in fact a coroner at Seattle General, according to his Facebook page. I don’t know where he lives, but he checks in at a donut shop called Perry’z with a z almost every day at six a.m. sharp. Certainly someone we need to question.”
I looked at the time on his phone. “It’s a long way from six a.m., Spy Guy. If we keep you out much longer, you’ll be a puddle of grease before midnight at the latest.”
“If we have to, we’ll take a hotel room for the evening.”
“And you’ll pay for that how?”
“Belfry informs me you have a convenient app for a very popular chain hotel that rather conveniently has all of your information, along with your credit card—not the one you use for Apple pay, in case you wondered. It isn’t one I’d choose, but the convenience of this is, I can have a room in one click, and one for Gooch as well, if he’d like.”
“Maybe we should send him home? We’ve asked a lot of Gooch, Win.”
“And we shall pay him handsomely. I ask that you trust he will be compensated, but of course I’ll check to see if he’d rather go home. Though the drive back worries me. He’s been driving all day. ”
I sighed. It felt like forever since poor Gooch walked into this mess. But I brushed my hands together and asked, “So what about this place called Gordo’s? The note said my
car is there. Do you think it’s a person or maybe even a place? Maybe even an impound lot? My car did just disappear. Dang. We should have called the police to see if they’d impounded it. That should have been the first thing I thought to do.”
“You’re right, in all the melee, my head’s not on quite straight. But it’s on my list of things to do, Dove.”
“Did you look up this Gordo?”
“Indeed, Dove, I did. I looked up people with the name Gordo, both first and last names, and as usual, we’re faced with the same dilemma we were faced with for the delivery vans. There are hundreds.”
I looked around the rest area’s bright parking lot as Gooch paced back and forth across the path between the picnic tables and the bathrooms, and hoped everything was all right.
“Are there as many businesses named Gordo’s as there are delivery services with the letters S and L? Because we’re stewed if that’s the case.”
“No. In fact, there are only two, and they have nothing to do with impound lots. A Lithuanian market on Morris Avenue and a pawnshop on Freeborn Street, both of which are closed at this hour.”
Why would my car be at a pawnshop or a Lithuanian market? “Those are really long shots, Win. I’m voting this is the name of a person, not a business.”
“Maybe person who owns stores name is Gordo,” Arkady reminded me.
Closing my eyes, I rubbed my tension-riddled forehead. “Maybe, but they’re all closed anyway. So until tomorrow, we’re back to square one, unless our ghost friend shows up. She’s the only solid lead we have, and now that we’re pretty sure she meant for us to find that piece of paper, what I want to know is, how in the world does she know about me and why is she trying to help me?”
“Or will helping you help her?” Win asked with a hitch of his square jaw.
“Good point,” I murmured. “So hotel it is? Some rest for the night? Or Gooch could just drive you home and you could sleep in your bed.”
“And be rousted by Nurse Gloria tomorrow when the rooster crows? No, Stephania. I can’t risk going back to the house and her catching me. I have many strengths, but getting past Nurse Gloria isn’t one of them. Not in this condition. And no to going to a hotel just yet. We’re going to check out those two locations, just to be certain they have no connection to this mess.”
I let my hands drop to my thighs. “What good will that do now, Win? They’re closed.”
“Which makes skulking that much easier.”
“You can’t skulk. You can barely hobble. I vote no.”
In the light of the dashboard, I could see him cock an eyebrow with that arrogant tilt. “You’ve been vetoed.”
“You can’t veto me! We live in a democracy, pal, or hadn’t you heard? This is the year of our Lord 2018, and I, as a woman, have a right to vote.”
“Not in this election, you don’t. Now, I’m not proposing anything too daredevilish, Stephania. Just a drive-by to see where we stand. Who knew a spirit in a vintage clothing store would lead us to a morgue? Nothing is unthinkable. We must take all roads and see where they lead. Now, not another word. Once we’re done seeing these two locations, we’ll take a room for the night. Agreed?”
I bent over at the waist and made a face at him he couldn’t see, rasping a loud, grating sigh in his ear. “Fine. But I’m not agreeing without misgivings.”
“As though that’s something new? Your entire vocabulary is littered with misgivings.” Then he rolled down the window and waved to Gooch. “Ready when you are, good man!”
By now, I’d learned there was no changing Win’s mind, but I hoped he was being truthful when he said we were just doing a drive-by. He looked completely worn out. A nap would do him good—it would do us all some good.
Gooch climbed back in the car, his long legs folding inward as he placed his hands on the steering wheel. “Where to?”
“Trouble. Gooch,” I asked, “do you know where trouble is? It’s right off Infection Highway and Hospital Stay Lane.”
Win fought a chuckle and gave him the address of the first Gordo’s market on Morris and we were off—again.
Off to the unknown, my misgivings and all.
Win pressed his fingers to the Bluetooth and squinted at the pawnshop. The market on Morris had turned up nothing of note, or at least it didn’t look terribly suspicious. Win had gotten out of the car and taken a peek inside the dark store and the surrounding area, to no avail. So we decided to head to the pawnshop with the agreement Win would call it quits for the night afterward.
We definitely weren’t in the best area of Seattle, if the ladies of the evening across the road were any indication.
“I don’t like this, Win.”
Ironically, Gooch mirrored my words as he craned his neck and looked at the dark desolation of the street, save for the women across the way. “This looks dicey, sir. Really dicey.”
“Indeed it does, good man. That’s exactly how I like it,” Win said, reaching for the door handle.
Gooch hadn’t said much during this entire excursion, but he held up a finger now, a long, thin finger. “Maybe I should go with you? Honest, I don’t mind. It’s no trouble.”
But Win shook his head with a firm no and the cluck of his tongue. “Now, Gooch, you know our agreement. You stay here with the car and the doors locked. You’re only to be involved in the driving end of this. I’ll be only a moment.”
As Win slipped from the car, I held my breath. The rundown storefront—actually, ramshackle described it best—was dark. There wasn’t even a light in the window, announcing the name of the store, and the rest of the street was pretty dark, too, with no other stores. The right side of the brick front had some graffiti on it, mostly unintelligible nonsense scribbled in haste, I suppose. Across the street there was a big empty lot used for parking, I suspected, filled with litter and discarded garbage bags.
Win cupped his hands and peered inside the store through the cluttered picture window.
“See anything? You know, like my car? You think they can fit it in there?”
“Aren’t you saucy, my little minx?” he drawled in a haughty tone.
“Well, c’mon, Win. This is crazy. It’s a pawnshop. I don’t think the name Gordo has to do with a place. I think it’s has to do with a person. Maybe the guy who owns this place took my car, but he’s obviously not here. But you know what I really think is happening right now? You’ve finally been let loose from your cage and tasted a good dose of freedom, and you’re taking advantage of every second before Nurse Gloria sends out Ludwig to hurl you over his shoulder fireman style and take your butt home.”
“Stephania?”
“What?”
“Hush!” he hissed, cocking his head before he looked around. “Which way?”
I grabbed Arkady’s arm and sat upright. “Is the lady ghost back?” I whisper-yelled.
“Can you see anyone, Dove?”
I looked along the road again, and there wasn’t anything but a lone plastic bag skipping along the sidewalk in tune with the light wind. Even the ladies of the evening had exited the area.
“No. Nothing.”
Win began to move when he stopped quite suddenly. “Which way?”
Fear made me clench my fists. “What’s she telling you to do, Win? You have to be careful.”
“It’s not the same voice, Stephania. This one is new and it’s telling me to ‘go that way,’ but I’m unclear about which way that means.”
Just what we needed. Another confused ghost. “Male or female ghost?”
“Sounds male,” Win said as he began to walk along the sidewalk, a bit too far away from Gooch’s car for my liking. “Keep your eyes open for me, will you?”
“I promise to do a better job of being your backup this time. Oh, and Belfry? Are you awake?”
“Here, Boss,” he chirped, sticking his head out of the pocket of Win’s purse. “What can I do ya for?”
“Climb up on Win’s shoulder, would you. Help me watch his back.”
Gracious, he looked like a homeless vagrant. All he needed was a shopping cart. If he wasn’t stopped by the police on one of these jaunts, it would be a miracle.
He stopped by a chain-link fence with barbed wire at the top and pointed. “Here?” he asked as he looked upward, so reminiscent of the way I once had when he was still on Plane Limbo.
The wind picked up then, stray leaves crackling and tumbling down the road as it began to lightly rain. I shivered. This felt wrong.
“Listen, is this voice giving you anything with substance, Win? Because while I can’t feel the temperature, I can see your breath, and it’s getting cold. You shouldn’t be out here in the rain. You’ll catch your death.”
Win smiled upward at me. “I’ve caught that once already, haven’t I, eh? I have no intention of catching it again.”
I flicked my fingers in the air. “Hah! Funny Brit is funny. Knock it off. There’s nothing to see here, Lookyloo, and it’s late. We agreed this was our last stop—”
But he held up another hand to shush me. “Behind the fence, mate?” Win whispered urgently.
His words stopped me cold as I looked, really looked, at what was beyond the fence. A big fat nothing, that’s what was beyond the fence. Well, that’s not true. There was a set of dilapidated garage doors with some peeling red paint, a few of those metal barrels you so often see used to bury a body, and a dumpster. A sure sign we should be on our way before Win ended up in either one of those vessels in teeny-tiny pieces.
“Winterbutt, are you out of your gourd?”
My eyes flew to Win as he took his slippers off, slung the ugly purse behind his back, and grabbed onto the fence, driving his fingers between the holes in the chain link.
“Win!” I gasped. “Don’t you dare!”
Belfry buzzed his ear with a sharp sting, making Win swat at him. “Belfry, enough!”
Witches Get Stitches Page 12
