Spooky Business

by S. E. Harmon

  “Why didn’t you give me any of this before?” I asked.

  “I never knew you needed it. You’re as cagey as a sphinx.”

  “So now it contains energy?”

  “When you give it to the stone, it will.”

  Of course, just give it to the stone. I stared at the tourmaline moodily. Why would any of this medium business be easy?

  She laughed softly, I assumed at the expression on my face. “You’ll figure it out, I promise.”

  I sighed. “Thanks.”

  Before I left, she filled two bags with products for Danny and me to test—from an all-natural botanical wrap to a pear berry candle. She’d also included something called a bath bomb, which sounded interesting. I told her we didn’t have a tub, but she wasn’t deterred.

  I hefted the bags in one hand. “Thanks for everything.”

  “I just hope it helps.”

  I felt a strange sort of tug in my chest that was more than just familial love. If I had to put words to it, it was almost like… a kind of belonging. Growing up, I always felt like the straight man—no pun intended—to their offbeat show. In a strange sort of irony, being a medium made me stand out from the rest of the population, but it made me one with my family. I wouldn’t change that for anything.

  My mother gestured for me to lean down and kissed me on both cheeks. The smell of lemongrass and herbs met my nose. She smiled as she drew back, and I swore I could see a green aura around her head. “Wear it in good health, honey.”

  I left in a pleasant mood with a cup of wheatgrass and two bags banging against my legs. The wheatgrass lasted for three minutes, my good mood for five. That’s how long it took me to get to the car and find a text from Graycie on my phone. Kane is ready to meet again tomorrow. I already talked to the warden.

  I sighed and texted back a reply. I’ll be there.

  Chapter 13

  The morning rushed by, which just proves the old shopworn adage “time flies when you’re having fun” is complete and utter bullshit. Apparently, time flies whether you’re having fun or four hours into an interrogation of a serial killer. In the end, I guess time is just a selfish biatch that does its own thing.

  I spent my lunch break chatting with the warden in his office over a complimentary meal of, well, it was hard to say. If the cook was aiming for “glop on toast”, well…nailed it. I choked the food down anyway because I was pretty sure DoorDash wouldn’t deliver to a correctional institution.

  Before long, even that brief respite was over, and I headed back down to building C, where the maximum-security inmates were housed. Kane eyed me as I entered the room. “Been twiddling my thumbs for a half hour.” There was a sharp edge beneath the casual words. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to make someone wait?”

  I kept my expression even as I slid into my seat. “I’m glad you’re so anxious to get started.”

  “I’m not sure why I’m bothering with you. It’s not like you’ve done either of the things I’ve asked you to do.”

  “I’m currently in the process of looking for your wife, Kane. Solving a thirty-year-old cold case isn’t an overnight thing.”

  “And the haunting?” He glared. “You said you’d stop the haunting.”

  I stopped the haunting by one angry spirit. I didn’t say I could stop them all.

  I purposefully kept my eyes away from the ghost walking the edges of the room, humming to herself as she trailed delicate fingers against the wall. Janet Winston. I recognized her from my board. She’d been an only child, an aspiring dancer who lived with her parents.

  She was striking, with smooth, dusky skin and dark, curly hair spiraling over her shoulders and down her back. She was barefoot, and her long skirt flowed around her legs like water as she walked. Much like the first ghost, Bee, she smelled citrusy.

  Kane leaned back in his chair. “Did you bring me anything?”

  I pulled out a new pack of cigarettes from my pocket and dropped it on the table. Kane stared at it and then at me. I let him sweat a little as his needy gaze made the circuit four more times in quick succession. I finally shoved them across the scarred, metal surface, and he snatched them up.

  He wasted no time tearing off the wrapper, sighing as he stuck one in his mouth. “Highlight of my fucking day. My fucking life, even.”

  “That’s high praise, indeed.”

  “I was talking about the Newports. But you’re not so bad, either.” When I merely arched an eyebrow, he smiled. “What, nothing for that? Guess I’m just not your type.”

  “I think you like to keep people unsettled. Hitting on me is just another tactic,” I said coolly, pulling up the recording app on my iPad. “Your history doesn’t hint at anything about bisexuality, latent or otherwise.”

  “And you’re an expert on all things Thomas Kane?” He chuckled darkly. “Let’s just say I’m a lot of things I wasn’t before. Twenty years in the joint can make you find beauty in strange places.”

  He wasn’t seeing a drop of beauty in my strange damn places. “Let’s talk about you,” I said. “That is why I’m here.”

  “No time for pleasantries, Dr. Christiansen? You know what they say about all work and no play, don’t you?”

  I pressed record on the iPad and identified the session location, date, and time of day, my eyes locked with Kane’s the entire while. When I finished, I answered his mocking question. “I think they say it makes for a very productive meeting instead of a wasted four hour drive.”

  He snorted derisively. “Your time isn’t my concern.”

  Obviously. I wistfully thought about Danny combing through Joseph’s work records. And Kevin and Nick, who’d gone to talk to Joseph’s old circle of friends. Or Tabitha, lost in researching the three copycat victims by now, her desk littered with food wrappers and empty coffee cups. Nirvana.

  I guess Danny was right, though, and I was stuck with the psycho I chose.

  I held in a sigh and nudged the folder closer to him. “Would you like to talk more about the Roses?” It killed me to call them that, but he wouldn’t respond otherwise. I pointed at the one on top, a young woman with a thick fall of blonde hair and crystal blue eyes. Melissa Todd had been a preschool teacher with two kids. She’d disappeared on her way home from work. “What about her?”

  He leaned forward, elbows on the table. His curly hair was looser today, a little frizzy from the heat, and fell into his eyes. “Light me up, Doc, or this meeting is already over.”

  He was lucky I hadn’t stuffed the cigarettes with TNT. I stifled a sigh as I reached in my pocket and pulled out a lighter. I spun the thumbwheel, watching as flint met wick and sparked into fanatical flame. In the flickering light, it seemed like his eyes were on fire. I saw the wrinkles. The lines around his eyes. The puffed pockets of flesh pillowing the muscles of his jaw. It bothered me that this was the last face all his victims saw, this merciless hulk of a man intent on taking the ultimate sacrifice.

  I pulled back quickly, flipping the cap on the lighter. I stuck it back in my pocket. “So, Melissa Todd. What’s her story?”

  “I told you before. They don’t have names. She was my American Beauty, for obvious reasons.” He blew out a cloud of smoke on a soft exhale. “She had a flat tire, and I offered to change it. I used a screwdriver to punch a hole in the spare and told her that was flat too.”

  “How did you get her in your van?”

  “I offered her a ride to the nearest filling station. I could see in her eyes that she didn’t trust me, but she got in anyway. Probably because of the rain. I only hunted when it rained. A storm is even better.”

  His eyes took on a glazed look, lost in his awful memories. I hated to admit it, but his inclement weather policy was a smart move, yet another reason he’d operated under the radar so long. Not only did the rain provide excellent cover, but people did all kinds of things they usually wouldn’t do to get out the elements. A mile walk to the nearest gas station didn’t seem quite so appealing in the pouring
rain.

  “What happened then?” I asked.

  “What do you think?” He flicked an annoyed gaze my way for interrupting his reverie. “We had four days of fun before it was time to say goodbye. I was willing to give her a fifth, but she begged me to end it. So I did.”

  I swallowed bile. “Where did you kill her?”

  “Home. Always home.”

  “And how did you hide them from Delilah Rose?”

  “I didn’t.”

  He smoked quietly as I digested that information. We’d always played with the theory that Delilah Rose had been aware of the abductions and killings, but we’d never had confirmation. The picture of Delilah Rose morphed in my mind from a victim to a willing participant. It wasn’t a pleasant shift.

  Kane smiled as he finally got the reaction he was looking for. “She patched ’em up when I was done. Got ’em ready for round two.” He let out a smoky chuckle. “God, they’re so fucking beautiful when they beg.”

  I’m sure you’ll be just as vocal when it’s your turn.

  Fire ignited in his eyes as he stubbed out his cigarette on the table, and I realized a few important things rather quickly. A.) I’d spoken aloud, and B.) the guards hadn’t seen fit to reshackle those big bruiser hands after they’d brought Kane back from lunch.

  I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he left his seat. Or when he lunged across the table. It was as though someone had paused time, rearranged the scene—with Kane up in my face, my shirt balled in his fist—and then pressed Play. We grappled for a minute as I tried to ward off his attack.

  I guess some part of me had always known this was coming. Kane was just too volatile to fuck with. He had the upper hand in strength and anger, but his technique was weak. All you have to do is hold him off a few more seconds. Just a few more. That was pretty much the soundtrack playing on repeat in my mind, until Kane grabbed a handful of my hair and slammed my face into the table.

  Okaaay, so playing defense wasn’t working.

  I weaseled out of his grasp and managed a quick uppercut to his jaw, so solid that it reverberated in my knuckles. His head jerked slightly, but he absorbed it with a grunt. He grabbed me in a hold that took me off my feet—less virgin bride over the threshold and more I’m about to WWE this motherfucker and body slam him through the table.

  Clearly, my offense also needed some work.

  Even though his squeeze was starting to restrict my air, I stayed calm, ramming my arm backward as hard and high up as I could. He howled as my elbow connected with something soft, and suddenly I was free. I hit the floor hard as he staggered backward, a hand cupped around his nose.

  Guards began shouting and locks began sliding. I got to my feet, eyeing Kane warily, almost certain there would be a counterattack. When he moved his hand and stared at the smear of blood across his palm, I swallowed. Yeah, there would probably be consequences for that.

  The heavy door swung open and two guards spilled into the room. They set upon Kane immediately, each grabbing one of his thick arms. Kane managed to clip one of them in the jaw before they threw him back into his chair so violently that the momentum sent him crashing into the wall. Kane roared as he struggled to his feet. He looked ready to go another round until one of the guards threatened him with mace.

  I resisted the urge to rub my aching knee, which had taken the brunt of my fall. Or my tender cheek, which he’d slammed into the table. Instead, I leaned against the cement wall, arms crossed, and watched the guards shackle him. It was going to take some effort to reestablish our power dynamic.

  He glared at me as the chains went around his wrists. In the tussle, the blood dripping from his nose had been smeared across his face and jumpsuit. “I think you b’oke by bucking dose,” he growled.

  “Doubtful,” I said, my mouth set with grim satisfaction. “Just bruised it a bit. You about done with your temper tantrum?”

  He rocked up out of his chair, and the guards slammed him back down. “I want you out of here,” he snarled. “I’m done with this shit.”

  “That is your choice. We’ll continue this another day.”

  He didn’t speak again as they prepared him for transport. He gazed at me the entire time, eyes dark and troubled. His leg jiggled nervously. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what kind of dark thoughts disturbed a man like Kane.

  A particular quote came to mind, something from my grad school days, when the only monsters in my world were on TV.

  Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process, he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.

  I broke our impromptu stare down first.

  Here’s hoping Nietzsche was profoundly wrong.

  Chapter 14

  Traffic was light and I made good time getting back to Brickell Bay. I got off two exits earlier on the highway and headed for my sister’s house for an impromptu visit. I’d checked my phone after leaving the prison and found three missed calls from her and no messages. My return call went straight to voicemail, which wasn’t surprising either. She was good at making calls but not answering them, and one of her superpowers was constantly letting her phone run out of battery.

  Five minutes later, I pulled into her driveway, which was rough and unpaved enough to make my car’s suspension whine. Using “driveway” for the strip of gravel was probably a little too lofty. The term “house” to describe her domicile was probably a little generous as well.

  As far as I was concerned, her place was a few steps above a yurt in structure, seeing as how it was built into a hill and the roof was entirely grass. With the handmade wooden door and tiny lights on the outside, it looked like something straight out of a fairytale… just like the homey-looking witch’s cottage you know you’re supposed to stay away from. I’m just sayin’.

  As I texted Danny to let him know where I’d be, I caught a glimpse of the time and did a double take. Fuck.

  Dinnertime.

  My twin Skylar took an all-natural, super healthy approach to food that was hard to embrace. I tried and failed on many occasions. She just didn’t seem to understand that humans had to eat the food she prepared.

  The last time we had dinner with her family, we choked down some unidentifiable casserole with beets as the main ingredient. The highlight of the meal was a side salad of dandelion greens, which, for all the fancy terminology, resembled those stubborn weeds that grew through sidewalk cracks. It was a sad day when weeds were the best thing on the plate. I sucked it up, requested some extra lemon juice, and ate the weeds mournfully.

  I was jazzed at the mention of dessert, until I watched her try to serve it. The gelatinous white substance kept shying away from the scooper. I made a quick, battlefield decision—I wasn’t eating any type of ice cream an ice-cream scooper didn’t recognize. So, I patted my stomach jovially and claimed I was full enough to burst.

  Danny wasn’t quite as cool. When it was his turn, he said “no thank you” so loudly that everyone at the table jumped. I fully expected him to catch a scooper upside the head, but Sky only huffed and informed us that just like all the greats, she was so underappreciated in her time.

  Hopefully I’d be in and out before any food hit the table. There were just easier ways to die.

  Sky never locked her doors, despite my dire warnings about security, so I knocked briefly and walked right in. She and her husband, Rick, were sitting on the couch. They were knee-deep in domesticity as she busily opened the mail, and he filled in a crossword puzzle. Skylar barely looked up at my entry—she was used to me popping in by now.

  “Just the person I need to see.” Rick pointed his pen in my direction. “You’re smart. Give me a fourteen-letter word for letters sent or received. Starts with C.”

  “Correspondence,” I said, “and hello to you, Rick.”

  “That’s what I thought, but it ends with two x’s. This is my last clue, too.” He shook his head. Probably the most laid-back, mellow guy I’d ever met,
it was rare to see him so focused on something. “Thanks for trying, dude.”

  I smothered a chuckle. “Anytime.”

  “Do you want to stay for dinner?” Sky asked. “I made plenty.”

  My belly fluttered in panic. “Thanks, but I’m good. Don’t trouble yourself.”

  She smiled. “It’s no trouble.”

  “I already ate,” I said, patting my stomach.

  “Funny. When I offered the same thing to Danny, he texted back very quickly, saying you guys were having a late dinner. He’s on his way, by the way.”

  “Guess we got our wires crossed.”

  “Guess you’re both coming to dinner,” she informed me cheerily. “What happened to your face?”

  I instinctively reached up to touch it and winced. “Got on the wrong side of an uncooperative prisoner.”

  “Did you put him down?” Rick asked eagerly.

  I thought briefly of Kane’s bruised and battered nose, bleeding like a stuck pig all over his uniform. This was truly a case of you should see the other guy, but it felt wrong to be proud of that. “You could say that.”

  Rick nodded approvingly.

  I watched my sister opening mail for a moment, wondering if I should talk to her about my little episode with Joey in the car. I had a session with Dakota coming up on Saturday, but I didn’t want to bother him before then. He had a life, too. Not much of one, but still. And I could certainly use an unvarnished opinion—the only kind Sky ever had.

  “I need to talk to you.” I stretched my eyes at her, wide, so she’d get the word alone without me having to say it, which would’ve worked if she’d bothered to look up.

  “Well, go right ahead. No one’s stopping you.” She opened a yellow envelope and shook out a couple of charms onto her palm. “Remind me, is Danny’s soul number five or six?”

  I huffed. The woman couldn’t find a clue even if it had a sign on it that read: Yo, I’m the freaking clue. I did some quick calculations. “Six, I think. Why?”