She nodded her acceptance.
He put his hand on the back of her head and bowed his. Jo bowed hers and closed her eyes. He spoke in Latin, finishing with “amen.”
“What did you say?”
“I asked God to walk with you and keep his Guardians near.”
“Thank you.” She hugged him on impulse.
He hugged her back, warmly. She relaxed into him, a little too easily, and pulled back when she remembered herself. Leo released her and held her by the shoulders out from him. “Please be careful. It is not the dead you need to be afraid of. They have no physical power over the living.”
She nodded.
“The dead are usually only concerned with their own fears and problems. Here.” He stepped away and rummaged through a small drawer in the table he’d set the coffee tray on. She expected a crucifix but he produced a highly polished stone. “Take this.” He dropped it into her open palm.
It was cool and smooth in her hand. “What is it?”
“It’s a rock, Jo.”
They both laughed.
“I know it’s a rock, but why take it?”
“It’s from a holy well near one of the Mithras shrines. It won’t stop evil but it’ll let you know it’s close.”
“Why is it so smooth?”
“It’s been carried in many pockets.”
She slid it into her own pocket. “Thank you, again. For the coffee, for listening, for…”
“For making you feel like maybe you aren’t batshit?” He smiled at her.
“Exactly that.” She gave him another quick hug and stood on her toes to kiss him on the cheek.
Chapter 11
Leo closed the door behind Jo. He didn’t have his niece’s gift to see auras but he didn’t need it. Jo was powerful. It came off her in waves, like the scent of vanilla off her hair when she’d embraced him. Vesna was probably right about her being his type as well, but that wasn’t a thought he wanted to linger over.
A conversation with Lichtenberg was in order. He lived in Jo and Vesna’s building. He’d assumed it had been to keep an eye on Vesna, and therefore on him, but maybe he knew about Jo and her family all along. He and his organization had endless archives, or so Leo’s father had said.
He moved to the window and watched her walk up the street. Her head covered by the black hood of her raincoat, she looked as much a monk as he did in his cassock. He suspected she could handle herself. That wasn’t the root of his worry for her. She turned a corner and disappeared into the rain.
He sat down on the chair and picked up the battered phone on the end table. He held the receiver on his shoulder with his head while he looked for Lichtenberg’s number in his mobile phone contacts. He figured Lichtenberg knew how to get in touch with him, but he had no desire to make it easier for him by calling from his personal phone.
He punched the numbers in and waited to leave a message. He got the man himself instead.
“Brother Kos, I’ve been expecting a call from you.”
No point in being politic then. “Have you always known what she was?”
“Yes and no.”
Leo waited for him to continue.
“I, we, knew about her family lineage. She would only have been of interest if she’d borne a female child, otherwise she was an anomaly.”
Few people had Lichtenberg’s ability to irritate the shit of him. His voice, his wordiness, his very existence, was damn near insufferable. His uncharitable thoughts would be another thing to discuss at confession.
“I saw her, that first night. Her au– Something had changed. She is a vox de mortuis. If I’m not mistaken, she’s an especially unusual one and therefore potentially very dangerous.”
Lichtenberg was baiting him. He wanted him to spew the medieval garbage his father and his brother had believed about people like Jo, who, admittedly, they would have labeled a witch. “I would think her ability makes her an asset. Especially if this gift is rare.”
“It is quite rare. The assumption was it would die out with her mother and aunt. Have you spoken with her?”
“Yes. Just now.” He had no intention of volunteering anything else.
“Did she tell you her mother is unstable?”
Leo paused. He knew Lichtenberg knew more than he would ever tell him and he had no desire to betray Jo’s trust.
Lichtenberg continued after his pause. “She isn’t Catholic. Your conversation wasn’t under the seal of the confession.”
“It wasn’t. But I have no intention of betraying her trust in me.” He gritted his teeth to avoid saying something he would regret.
Lichtenberg sighed. “She is unstable, her mother. Ms. Wiley may have inherited that trait as well. Whether or not Ms. Wiley knows it, she is both in danger and a danger. Without any kind of training, she is unlikely to be able to control her ability. I would appreciate your being circumspect about that, especially given your desire to protect others from harm.”
Leo hung up the phone. He was past the point of tolerating Lichtenberg’s condescension. His presence in Ljubljana was a reminder of his family’s failure to save Berta, and she in turn of his own failures. He would not fail his niece’s trust in him to protect her friend. He would protect Jo from Lichtenberg and his cronies. If it came to it, he would protect her from himself.
Chapter 12
The rain changed to the kind of heavy mist an umbrella was no use against. Jo stood on the embankment in front of the blue bar. “Spotlight” was splashed across the front door in a nearly indecipherable font. At night the place was bathed in neon blue light. The hue didn’t exactly bring out the best in most people’s complexions and Jo had never liked the place, but it was where Maja worked. Had worked? If she really had quit yesterday. They weren’t open yet but a young man stood behind the reflective black granite bar polishing glasses with a towel. She should have gone straight to the police station but she wanted to confirm something first. She knocked.
The man turned and waved her away.
She knocked again, harder.
He put the bar towel down and came to the door. He turned the lock and opened the steel and glass panel just enough to stick his face out and tell her to go away because they weren’t open yet.
Before he could close the door she stuck her clog inside. “Look. I know you’re closed. I’m looking for someone, Maja Demšar. Do you know her?”
“Yeah. She didn’t work last night. I haven’t seen her today.” He tapped the end of her clog with his own shoe to push her foot out and closed the door in her face without another word.
She resisted the urge to bang on the door with her fist. No point in taking out her fear and frustration on some douche-y barkeep who didn’t give two shits. She started back toward the police station. It was raining again and she put her head down and pulled her raincoat hood up in a vain attempt to keep her face dry. She plotted the rest of her day as she walked, trying to keep her spirits from sinking along with her heart. She knew Leo was right. She’d known last night that Maja was dead. It didn’t make sense though. What could have possibly happened to her? Helena and Maja. There was no way this wasn’t all connected. With Helena’s death she’d suddenly become a lamplight to the dead. They’d both come to her. Were they dead because of her?
She stopped in a doorway to pull out her phone and text Vesna. “Did Maja show?”
Jo waited for a reply. “Called multiple times. No answer.”
She returned her phone to her pocket and leaned against the door behind her. She took a deep breath and an emotional inventory. Fear. Grief. Loneliness. Anger. Anger was good. Anger would get her through the next hour. Everything else could wait.
The rain slowed and she stepped back out into it, her shoulders squared. She walked up through Prešeren Square, past the Union Hotel, and on to the police station. She had no idea
what she was going to say when she got there, but someone should be looking for Maja’s body and the police had more resources for that kind of thing than she did.
She told the sour-faced woman behind the glass partition at the front desk that she wanted to speak with Marta about a missing person. The woman hrumphed in response and picked up the phone next to her.
“Investigator Klančnik is with someone.” She emphasized Marta’s title to remind Jo she had been terribly familiar. “She asked for you to wait in the lobby.”
“Do you know how long it will be?”
“No.” She slid the glass closed with an unmistakable finality.
Jo sat on the nearest molded plastic chair. The lip of the orange seat bit into her thighs. She figured on a long wait and tried to make herself comfortable without success. Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She was going to ignore it but thought better of it on the off chance it was an apologetic Maja.
It was instead an apologetic Vesna. “Hey. I know I said you should take the day off. But Miha called to ask if he could bring a tour through around 5.”
Vesna’s brother was a tour guide and occasionally brought groups to the teahouse at the end of a tour. It meant an hour or two of madness but usually brought in good money, which was nice as the tourist season ended. The teashop was business as usual, even if everything else was upside down.
“Where’re they from?” Country of origin usually gave an idea of what to prepare for.
“China.”
“Oh.” No English or Slovene speakers and typically only one or two translators. Orders took forever, with the result that those who ordered first were ready to leave before the last orders were in. It was a pretty sweet juxtaposition though: Chinese pensioners rocking out to the Ramones and eating cucumber sandwiches.
“I’m with the police,” she told Vesna. “Be there as soon as I’m done.”
She’d rather be at the shop. Shit, she’d rather be cleaning the underside of the range than here. This. All this. The dead whisperer thing, Helena’s death, Maja’s death: if she was being honest with herself, it was more the stuff of fever dreams than her waking life. How had any of the Wiley women stayed sane when absolutely none of this made any sense?
She tapped the email app icon just as Marta emerged from the warrens of the police station to collect her.
“Ms. Wiley, I’m glad you came. I have a few more questions.”
“Okay, but can we discuss something else first?”
Marta tilted her head just enough for Jo to notice. “Sure.”
“Privately?”
Marta motioned her through the metal door and into an interview room. They sat and Marta moved to start the recorder.
“Can this part not be recorded please?”
“If it’s in regard to Ms. Belak’s murder, I need to record it.”
“It isn’t. At least I don’t think so.”
Marta clasped her hands together on the table and leaned toward Jo. Jo’s instinct was to move back but she didn’t. “I think something may have happened to Maja, our baker.”
“Why would you think that?”
“She didn’t show for work today and didn’t call.”
“How old is Miss…?”
“Demšar. She’s 24, about 5’2”, slight build, bright blue hair, brown eyes.”
“She’s 24? How long has she been missing? Sure she’s not just flaking off work?”
“She left the teashop a little early yesterday afternoon to go and quit her other job. We had discussed bringing her on full time. It’s just not like her. And…there’s something else.”
“What?” Marta looked up at her, her expression inscrutable.
“I had this…I saw…I have a terrible feeling about it. Like a premonition.”
Marta looked hard at Jo. “What kind of premonition?”
“Just a really bad feeling.” If she told a police officer she could talk to dead people and had seen Maja in her apartment, she would be hauled off to Polje.
“Ms. Wiley, I can’t file a missing person’s report just because you have a bad feeling.”
“Someone should be looking for her.”
“I will send someone around for a welfare check.”
“That’s not very helpful.”
“That’s all I’ve got.” She flipped the recorder on. “I need to ask you a couple more things about the night Ms. Belak was killed.”
Jo left the police station hoping her anger would warm her against the weather and the cold that had settled around her heart.
She pulled the hood of her raincoat up and walked as quickly as she could without taking a tumble on the rain-slick grates and access covers in the pavement. A solid bulk of person ran into her, or she ran into it.
“Oprostite.” Jo looked up into Rok’s face.
“My Jo.” He slid both his cold hands into her hood on either side of her face and kissed her hello.
“Mm, you’ve been quiet.” She had missed him.
He pulled her into the nearest doorway, out of the rain. “Deciding on this trip. To go or not. I am feeling this is not the right time.”
“I have recently learned it’s best to listen to your hunches.”
He smiled at her. “I hope because of a good thing.” He studied her face for a moment. “Are you not working?”
“Not today. Vesna decided I needed a day off.”
“You don’t seem to be enjoying this day off.”
“Just a lot going on. Did you hear about the murder?”
“I saw papers at a kiosk.” Rok was the least plugged-in person she knew. No TV, no smart phone, no cell phone period. He had a phone at home but no answering machine.
“I was there. I knew her.”
“That is more than enough to be sad.”
“And now our baker has disappeared.”
“Maybe she decided to have an adventure.” Rok was known to disappear himself.
“I hope so.” She wasn’t very hopeful. Her conversation with Marta had made it all a little too real. But what had happened? Where was her body?
“Such a mother. She will be fine.” He pulled her into a one-armed hug in the cramped doorway. He was the same height as her, but built like a rugby player. He was maybe a little thicker around the middle now than when she’d first met him, but his wiry hair was still jet black. She could feel his body heat through his slicker and his heavy sweater. “We should go somewhere warm.” He let her go and ran his hand down his face to brush off the mist that clung to his beard and eyebrows. “And dry.”
“I’m heading to the shop.” She needed to talk to Vesna. She needed to figure out what to do next.
“All criteria are met.” He put his arm around her waist and they walked on, heads down against the rain.
Vesna met them at the door. It was almost three o’clock. Where had the day gone?
“Maja?” It was for confirmation more than anything.
Vesna shook her head.
Jo’s stomach growled loudly enough for Vesna and Rok to hear.
“You need to eat.” Vesna looked down at the chalk sign in her hand. “Lentil soup? Rok?”
He nodded in agreement. Vesna set the board near the door and went back to the kitchen. Jo peeled off her wet coat and hung it on a row of pegs near the door. Rok followed suit and sat at the nearest table. The shop was empty besides them. She was hungry but since her conversation with Marta, she was feeling every minute tick by. She should be out looking. She couldn’t wait for Marta to send someone out to Maja’s apartment. She needed to go now. She started to reach for her coat again.
“The ship. It is Igor’s work, no?” Rok was gesturing at the newly painted wall.
“Yes. He did it on Sunday. We needed a change.”
“It’s a good change.”
Vesna
came back with two bowls of lentil soup and a plate of cheese scones. “Sit, Jo. You still have to eat.”
Jo sat next to Rok. Vesna was not to be argued with when she was in full-on mom mode. And Jo really did need to eat.
Vesna sat down opposite her as she put the soup on the table in front of them. “How did it go at the police station?”
Jo swallowed the spoonful of hot soup she’d just put in her mouth. “They asked me how well I knew Tomaž.”
Vesna snorted. “Well enough to know he’s a snake.”
“That’s pretty much what I said, that he wasn’t one of my favorite people.”
Rok laughed. “Sad for him. No soup.”
Jo smiled, relieved that she had walked smack into Rok. His unshakable calm had rubbed off on her over the years but it was good to have him there as reinforcement. Another tether. Her insides were twisted, but Fred’s lentil soup had its own soothing powers. She needed something else to focus on for a few minutes. She needed to figure out what to do next.
Vesna popped up from the table. “I’m going to help Frédéric finish up a couple things in the kitchen.”
Jo and Rok finished their soup and scones in silence. Rok took her bowl and stacked it inside his to carry back to the dish sink. Jo followed with the plate holding a lonely uneaten scone. They stood in the doorway to the kitchen. Vesna took the dishes from them.
“What’s the plan?” Jo addressed both Vesna and Frédéric, but Frédéric answered.
“Simple menu today. I figured we’d be slow with the rain. The tourists may be all we get.”
“Hm. Faron said his crew would be in tonight. But I’m guessing you’re right about anyone else.” Jo looked out the front window. It was dark and the rain was blowing against the window in waves. “Vee, it might be worth checking in with Miha. That doesn’t look like tour weather at all.”
Vesna went into the office to excavate her phone from a pile of paperwork. She came back quickly. “He’s already messaged me. No tour. Maybe tomorrow if the rain lets up.”
Rok put his arm around her waist. “You can go back to taking the day off.”
Vesna nodded. “Yes. Take her out of here. We’ll be fine.”
Who By Water (Voices of the Dead Book 1) Page 13
