by Emily Walker
He ran from the truck up the front steps and she met him on the porch, her face fixed in a frown, arms across her chest.
“Babe, I was worried about you.”
“I thought you wanted to take a step back?” she said, not showing any emotion and being very proud of herself for it.
“What? But...when we talked last night, I thought I made my feelings clear. You did hear what I said last night, didn’t you?” She felt sure she had to have, but she couldn’t remember. It was all a blur. She couldn’t remember him coming to talk to her or getting home.
“No, Brent, I didn’t. I don’t remember anything from last night, it’s all a haze. The last thing I remember that happened between us was you said you needed time and I slammed the door in your face because I thought it was bullshit. I still think it’s bullshit. How do you spend your whole life with someone and go through so much to stop caring about them because they’re different than you thought?”
He stepped in and shut her up by pressing his lips to hers. She was taken by surprise but not completely resistant to it. He pulled her close to him and put one hand in her hair, sending tingles through her scalp. She gave into the kiss and deepened it, wrapping her arms around his neck. Whatever he’d said last night must have been the opposite of his taking a step back speech.
“I love you, Chloe. I have for a very long time. You’re just going to have to believe me that what I said last night was really romantic and sweet.”
“I love you too, Brent,” she said, her heart swelling.
“Whooooo,” Zazie yelled from the car, “it’s about time.”
“Hey, Aunt Z, what are you doing in the car?”
“She was supposed to be reading a book and giving us privacy,” Brent said.
“Get ready and come with us, we’re going to meet my grandma!”
“Your grandma?”
“It’s a long story, but she’s a wizard pretending to be a fortune-teller and she’s going to tell us who killed Layla so we can get to the bottom of it.”
Chloe gasped. Could it really be that easy?
“I can’t go. I have to go with Layla’s mother to the funeral home. She doesn’t want to go alone, and it’s time to prepare her for the funeral.”
“Oh okay, well, I’ll come over after your shift tonight and tell you what we find out okay. I’m sorry you have to deal with this.” He kissed her softly and moved down the stairs back to the truck. “We’re going to figure this out, okay?”
Her phone was ringing again when she went inside and she cringed as she saw it was her mother. She hadn’t called her every night like her mom had demanded. She was worried sick that she was going to go crazy. First, she’d offered to come stay with her, then she’d said she should just come stay with them. It was crazy, but Chloe felt like if she went and stayed with her parents she’d be putting them in danger.
“Hi, Mom,” she said as she watched Brent’s truck pull out of the driveway.
“Baby, are you okay? You didn’t call me last night. I was really worried. Your dad is already getting ready to come over there. He wanted to bring you some strange soup he made, but I wouldn’t let him.”
“Debra, it’s not strange, it’s just a strange color.” She heard her father in the background. There was no way she wanted to know what kind of concoction he’d come up with.
“You guys don’t have to come out. I’m fine. I’m going to spend some time with Connie today and I think it will be good for both of us.” She didn’t mention where they were going, she didn’t see a point in worrying her mother with it.
“Oh, that poor woman, you let me know if we can do anything for her.”
“Take her some soup, Debra.”
Her mother put her hand on the phone so she was muffled, but she still heard her say, “Robert, I’m going to pour that hot soup all over you if you don’t stop.”
“It would be a shower of deliciousness,” her dad said.
“Listen, sweetie, despite your dad’s insensitivity—”
“I cook when I’m nervous or upset,” he interrupted her.
She went on. “We are both here for you and if you need anything at all you call me. Small or big. If you just want a Pepsi and don’t want to walk to the fridge you call me. Understand?”
“Yes, I love you guys very much,” Chloe said and hung up. Her parents meant well, but not knowing if she was going to be targeted made her nervous about letting them know anything. She got ready to go meet Connie and heated her coffee up in the microwave. She managed to get down a couple of handfuls of cereal and then it was time to go. Not being able to find her keys, she went into the living room and started searching. There, sitting on the table beside her television was a lighter, a Zippo. Someone had been in her house?
She picked it up and turned it over. ASH was engraved on the bottom. He’d been at her house last night? Why?
At least she was going to work after she left the funeral home, so she’d be able to ask him why the hell his lighter was in her living room.
Following Zazie’s directions, they made their way to Madame Visionary’s humble abode. The sign out front had a picture of her holding a crystal ball. She was wearing a strange looking crown of some sort and smiling. It was the cheesiest thing he’d ever seen.
He’d never come this far down the street before, there hadn’t been a reason. Now he was looking at the grandma he’d never met, and she looked like a carnival performer. Zazie knocked on the door and yelled, “Mama, I know you’re in there.”
A gravelly voice came out of a cracked window. “I don’t open until eleven, come back for your fortune then.” The woman had a strange accent he couldn’t really identify and Zazie rolled her eyes at him.
“It’s Zeezee, Mama, open the damn door. I have your grandson with me.”
She did open the door then and the woman standing in the door looked nothing like her picture. Her face was similar to Zazie’s but wrinkled and she looked angry. When she saw him her face lit up and she looked about ten years younger.
“Brent, I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you, son, come in!”
“You know me?”
“Of course I know you, darling. I’ve just not been allowed to see you since you were a baby. You know, you’re impressionable when you can listen.” Her accent was gone and she was smiling. Her hair was long and gray, pulled into a braid on the side of her head. She wore sweatpants and a shirt that said ‘Ain’t Life Grand’ in big colorful letters.
“You look different than your poster.”
“Oh yeah, I know, I have to make a living,” she said.
“So what brings you by, daughter? How the hell did you get out of the crazy house?” she asked, lighting up a cigarette.
“This amazing young man sprung me.” Zazie patted Brent’s cheek and they all sat in the living room.
“We’re here because we need a favor, Grandma.” Brent was trying out the word and seeing how it felt.
“Darling, please call me grandmother, it sounds a lot better.”
“Okay, Grandmother, Aunt Z was trying to see who killed my friend Layla because we think the same person might be after my girlfriend, Chloe. They’re shifters.” He said it and waited for some type of reaction from the older lady, but she didn’t blink.
“Want me to look in my crystal ball?” She cackled exactly like Zazie, who joined in the cackle. She finished up the cigarette she was smoking and put it out. “I’m just kidding, bring me a bowl from the kitchen, boy, and fill it up with water.”
Brent went into the kitchen and found a bowl, filling it up with water. He brought it over to her and put it in front of where she sat.
“All right, turn off the lights and be quiet.” Brent did what she said, thrilled he would finally get to see some real magic. She put her hands over the bowl and closed her eyes. This went on for five minutes. He timed it. Nothing happened and no one said anything.
“Show me that who would take the life of an innocent girl, show
me the evil in Woodland Creek, and show me what we need to know. Show me.” Her hands were now shaking over the bowl but nothing was happening that he could see. He almost said so, but she held up one finger and leaned forward.
“What is it, Mama?” Zazie whispered.
“Cigarette tray, black crow, cigarettes, Zippo.”
“She’s not making sense, Z. Grandmother, what are you talking about?”
“Ashes to ashes, black wizard’s son, crow flies, ashtray, video games.”
“She’s translating what she sees, it’s not always clear. Think, does that sound like anything you’ve heard of or someone you know?”
“Ash?” He hadn’t thought of Ash before. There was nothing about Ash that screamed dark wizard. If it was Ash, he’d have to go warn Chloe. She had no clue she was around a killer every day. It couldn’t be Ash, could it?
“Ash, ash, ash, ash,” Regina was repeating the word over and over again, and it was clear to him that had to be who she was talking about. The Zippo, he had one, he’d flicked it over and over while they talked that day.
“I’ve got to go warn Chloe. She’s not answering.”
“The funeral home will more than likely have her turn her phone off. You won’t be able to get to her until she goes back to work.”
“That won’t be until later, it’s not even noon yet. I have to go try and find her now.”
Regina was still looking into the bowl. Her eyes were wide, but she wasn’t saying anything. She looked scared. It wasn’t clear if she was seeing what Ash had done, or knew something they didn’t.
“What is it, Mama?” Zazie said.
“Zeezee, you have to stay until he comes. He knows where Samuel is.”
Zazie clutched her heart and slid closer to her mother as Brent watched, unsure how to help. “Are you sure, Regina? You better be sure.”
Regina grabbed onto Zazie’s arm and pointed to the bowl. Both women were now transfixed, but he didn’t want to leave Zazie there to face Ash on her own. He didn’t know what to do. If he went to the police, they probably wouldn’t believe him, so that wasn’t an option.
“Z, what do I do?”
“Go, son, go warn Chloe. I’ve got to find my son.” Zazie had never sounded more serious, so he nodded and ran out the door.
“Bye, Grandma.”
“Wait, Brent.” Regina stood and he came back in. “Don’t call me grandma, please, but come here.”
“Sorry, Grandmother.” He smiled. “What is it?”
“Ashtray or whatever his name is, he’s powerful. He has dark magic on his side. You haven’t figured out how to use your magic yet, so you’re going to need some protection.” She walked over to her shelf and pulled down a box.
She took out a necklace with a large pendant on the end of it. It was huge and green, shaped like a crystal, but dull and solid. “What the hell is that?” he asked.
“Protection,” she said as she put it around his neck and kissed his cheek.
“It’s hideous.” He looked at the thing lying against his shirt.
“Protection doesn’t have to be pretty, sweet boy, now go.” He gave her a quick hug and tucked the pendant under his shirt. It jutted out beneath his shirt, but at least it was close to him. If there was magic in it, he wanted it no matter what it looked like.
He jumped in his truck and headed out before he realized he wasn’t sure which funeral home she was going to be at. He’d start with the ones he knew and keep calling her cell phone until he got ahold of her.
Chloe held Connie’s hand tightly as the mortician led them down a hallway toward a metal double door. She could tell Connie was worried about how she would handle seeing her daughter again. She held the dress out for him and he took it from her. It was pretty, Chloe thought. Layla would have liked the choice her mother made.
“We’ll get her all fixed up.” The funeral director walked with them as the morgue was attached to his building, so they worked together.
“Thank you for taking care of my girl,” Connie said.
“Of course, ma’am.” Chloe was nervous too as she walked with Connie. The last time she’d seen Layla, she was bleeding and pale. The sign said no cell phones, so she turned hers off. There were two bodies in the room, covered with sheets. That must have been where they got them ready for the caskets. It was surreal.
“Yours is the girl, correct?” he asked Connie gently. “Would you like to see her? We have her makeup all done.”
Connie nodded and squeezed Chloe’s hand tightly as they followed him to the first table with a body on it. The sheet covered her, probably to respect the family of the other body in the room. They didn’t have to see the dead roommate. Man, that was morbid, she thought to herself.
“Are you ready, Mrs. Adams?” the director asked and she nodded.
Chloe held her breath as they watched him pull the sheet down.
Instead of dark brown hair with purple tips the girl exposed was blonde. It wasn’t Layla.
“Is this some kind of joke?” Connie was shaking angrily as she looked at the blonde girl that wasn’t her daughter. Chloe could only stare. “That’s not my daughter!” she screamed.
“I’m so sorry, ma’am. Were you told she was here?” The guy quickly covered back up the poor girl’s body and walked toward them to usher them back out of the door.
“Yes, they said she’d be brought to you. I’m calling them when I get home and giving them a piece of my mind.” Connie stomped out of the room, her fists clenched at her sides.
“That young man beneath the sheet over there and this young lady are the only two bodies we have.” Chloe could tell this wasn’t something that had happened to him often.
“How does someone make this kind of mistake?” Connie demanded.
“I don’t know, ma’am, we’ll get to the bottom of this.”
“Find my daughter’s body and don’t call me to come down here until you’re sure it’s her.” She was holding it together pretty well, but Chloe knew it had taken an emotional toll on her to get worked up to see Layla, and then she wasn’t there.
Connie rushed out, not looking back.
Chloe thanked them, for what she wasn’t really sure, and raced out after her. She needed to have some questions answered and she’d start with Ash and why he was at her house. By the time she got Connie in the car and went back to her house it would be time to go to work. She’d go in early and have a little heart to heart with her boss.
* * *
Brent looked at the clock in his truck. It was almost eleven-thirty. He finally figured out which funeral home Layla had to be at by the process of elimination. He busted through the doors and ran down a long hallway.
“Chloe,” he yelled.
A man in a suit walked toward him quickly and put his finger to his lips. “Sir, calm down, there is a family here visiting their son.”
“Is there also someone here with Layla Adams, or visiting her, I mean?” He was out of breath and not lowering his voice.
“They were here but left about an hour ago, sir. Terrible mix-up,” he said.
“What kind of mix-up?” Brent asked.
“I shouldn’t tell you, but you seem to know them,” the man said. “The body of Layla Adams never showed up here. Her body is missing. Can you believe that?”
He didn’t say anything to the guy and ran back out the door. He wasn’t sure if he should go to her house or Connie’s house. If Layla’s body had actually not been there, she would spend enough time at Connie’s to make sure she was okay. How could someone’s body just not show up at the funeral home? That didn’t make sense, did it? He didn’t have time to think about it.
He made the decision to go to Connie’s first. If he could catch her there, then he could go back to her house with her and then into work. That way he would be able to protect her from Ash until they figured out how to expose him. Ash would be meeting with Aunt Z in less than twenty minutes if he was indeed the killer, so there was no doubt he had tim
e to get to Chloe before she figured it out and he took her away from him.
He couldn’t let that happen. It would have been smart of him to pay attention to the road. He might have seen the car coming at him, and he certainly would have avoided swerving so hard he flew off the road and into a tree. He saw the tree and then everything was black.
When he woke up his head hurt. He was lying on the side of the road with the chief of police standing over him, an EMT bandaging his arm. It hurt.
“Hey, there he is. Where was the fire, Brent?” the police chief said, smiling. Why the hell was he smiling when his arm hurt so badly?
“What time is it?” he yelled, trying to get up. The EMT grabbed his arm and jerked it, taking him by surprise. His shoulder popped back into place and he screamed with the sudden pain.
“The airbag knocked your arm out of the socket and your arm hit you in the head and knocked you out,” The EMT said almost gleefully.
“I have to get to Chloe. What time is it?” he said again.
“It’s almost two. You were knocked out for a while. You’re going to the hospital.”
“I can’t go to the hospital. I have to get to Chloe.” Her shift would be starting soon, but she was always early. Chloe was already there with him and there was no way to warn her. “I need a phone.”
He jumped up and took off running toward his truck with the EMT yelling after him. “You need to go to the hospital.” Brent couldn’t go to the hospital, but his head was swimming. He didn’t know what he was going to do. He just had to get the rest of the way to the bar and make sure Chloe was okay. He hoped he wasn’t too late. He backed his truck away from the tree without too much struggle. It had dug down into the soil, so he had to rev it a couple of times to break free. The airbag was deflated, but the powder from it shooting out was all over the car. It flew around him as he drove toward the Barcade, knowing the police was probably unhappy he was driving recklessly with what was probably a concussion, since he’d been out. He needed to fight through it, though. Chloe was depending on him.
Despite thinking he was going to pass out a couple of times, he finally made it to the bar. He saw Deidra waiting on a table and the two old men. There were two families in the Barcade, but he didn’t see Ash or Chloe.
