Phantasm

by Phaedra Weldon

  I stared at Joe—waiting for him to continue. All these records—evidence—again, was it really Cooper or TC?

  Hell—do I tell these guys?

  Yeah . . . and get my ass reamed?

  NO.

  But I somehow already knew what he was going to say. Opera was one of the more popular dance clubs in downtown Atlanta. Situated a block from the Four Seasons, it was a combination events hall and club.

  “The bouncer there identified Daniel as being the man with Boo Baskins before her body was found.”

  Daniel was with Boo. I didn’t have a very vivid recall of the girl alive. Emo lite. Goth-like. And dainty. And she could talk and didn’t have any dark secrets.

  At least nothing as dark as mine.

  Dags said, “So does this mean that Daniel is a suspect in all three murders?”

  “Suspect maybe,” Joe said. “But in all three instances no one can come up with motive.” He pointed to me as he moved into the room and scratched his spiky head. “And there’s still the fact that the coroner can’t quite explain how each of them died. Does that sound like Daniel?”

  “Maybe he was doing his own investigation?” I volunteered. I know it sounded lame, and I was grasping at any explanation as to why Daniel would have anything to do with those three individuals.

  “I’d like to think so,” Joe said. “But the man’s been a total asswipe for the past month. There are things going on back at the station that have pretty much put him on everyone’s shit list.”

  “Like what?” Dags said.

  “Bad behavior,” Joe said. “Picking fights with people he usually gets along with. Irritable. And no one’s seen him eat or drink a thing.”

  Dags and I glanced at each other. But it was Dags who said, “That’s an odd thing to notice.”

  “Not so much if you suspect someone is drinking on the job. We watch our own—to see if they’re heavy on the sauce. But no one could catch Daniel drinking—anything. Not even a cup of water from the dispenser. I’ve been to his house several times, and he never answers—and you know how much Daniel loves to stay in at night and watch old movies.”

  This last comment he directed at me, and I nodded. It was one of his favorite things—not that he and I had ever had the opportunity to really enjoy that type of evening. And if we had, maybe we’d have had more time to develop a more romantic relationship.

  Maybe.

  But right now all bets were off on the Daniel factor.

  “So what are you going to do?” Dags asked.

  Joe put his hands on his hips, and I was suddenly very aware of his shoulder holster and the big gun nestled inside of it. He’d never really worn a gun before—or at least none that I’d noticed. He wasn’t wearing his usual jacket but a tee shirt. His flannel shirt usually covered the weapon, I guess.

  He looked like a real cop, a real law-enforcement officer.

  “Right now Cooper wants me to locate Daniel—and then I need to watch him for twenty-four hours. See what he’s up to. But the problem right now is that no one can find him. Cooper’s had a unit on his apartment, and he hasn’t been home in forty-eight hours.”

  My eyes widened. That was very much unlike Daniel—and if he hadn’t been coming home, then where was he staying to shower and sleep?

  Dags cleared his throat. “Does he have a new girlfriend? Perhaps someone he’s staying with?”

  My heart lodged in my throat, but I didn’t say anything.

  “That’s our initial thought—but we can’t find him even to tail him to anyone. Cooper thought maybe he’d eventually turn up with Zoë.” He looked at me directly. “But I have my doubts.”

  I did too. I’d lost him. I’d completely lost Daniel. I didn’t believe he had anything to do with the deaths—he wasn’t some Abysmal monster sucking out souls. And I refused to believe there was a Symbiont inside of him—Daniel’s presence with each of the victims was his own way of detection.

  And he was being distant and untraceable because he was working the case.

  Or something.

  Yeah . . . and I believe in the tooth fairy too.

  I pursed my lips. Unless there was such a thing as a tooth fairy, I thought, and with my luck it would be a short, round, hairy man with big rabbit teeth that ate children.

  Joe pulled out his phone and pressed a key. After a few seconds he hung up and shook his head. “I’ve tried Daniel three times now—and usually by now he’s picked up and been real irritated with me. He’s not even answering.” He gave me a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, Zoë. I know how much he means to you.”

  I shrugged. “I evidently don’t mean that much to him though, do I? I blew it with him, Joe. I wasn’t honest, and he finally just got fed up with me.”

  “Maybe,” Joe said. “I have to go find him. Talk about a needle in a haystack.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Rhonda’s on the horn asking some of her Society buddies what they know about setting physical objects into spatial, astral boxes.” He shrugged. “Makes no sense to me. So what exactly were you two talking about?”

  I gave Joe a quick recap of what I’d told Dags.

  “But the last thing I remember was seeing a spider and falling.”

  “Yes, and you bumped your head. Did you lose consciousness?”

  Memory of that event was still mostly like a dream, and it was hard to see it as anything but a dream. “I always thought I hit my head because I didn’t remember anything else. Or I just woke up ’cause I hated spiders. But if you’re thinking something else happened?”

  “Did Nona find you?”

  I opened my mouth, then shut it. “I—I don’t know. I can’t remember anything else. Joe, I always thought it was just one of those weird dreams.”

  “And when did you start having those dreams?”

  Now I could answer that question. “Just recently—about the time I couldn’t go OOB anymore.”

  Joe and Dags stared at me. It was Dags who said, “You think it might be your mom trying to tell you something?”

  !!!

  I’d never thought of that. “But what?”

  “That maybe there was something in that box that could help,” Dags said, rubbing his arm. “And if it’s like a Summoning Eidolon—”

  Joe shook his head. “Zoë—”

  I held up my hand, knowing exactly what it was he was going to say. “Look—when the evil Maddox summoned me back into my body, when he had me all pinned on the table in the Stephenses’ basement, didn’t he just use the Summoning Eidolon?”

  Dags shrugged. “Uhm . . . I wasn’t there.”

  Joe continued to shake his head. “Zoë—forget the Eidolons, okay? You keep bringing this up—nobody’s using any Eidolons to pull anyone back into their body—got it? Let it go.”

  I was not going to let it go—but before I could give any kind of argument, Rhonda stepped back in from the front porch. When she came into the tea shop, where Dags and Joe and I had moved to, I noticed she looked a lot paler than usual—and that was pretty pale. Her face looked—weird.

  “Zoë,” she said in a very quiet voice, then looked at me and Dags, “Miller Oaks just called—”

  Miller Oaks.

  That’s where my mom’s body was.

  At that minute Joe’s phone went off.

  Rhonda glanced at him, then looked at me. “Nona’s body’s gone.”

  21

  THE sky was a velvet backdrop to a vast ocean of stunning jewels when we arrived at Miller Oaks. This was the kind of view of the sky that I couldn’t see from in town. The weather had been pretty clear all day, and the temperature was starting its spring climb into the heat of doom. Azaleas were in bloom along most of the scenery and outside the long-term-care facility. By the beginning of April, everything would be covered in yellow fuzz.

  I called it the Tennis Ball Season.

  When everyone’s car had the sheen of a yellow tennis ball.

  The dazzle of the blooming flowers was overwhelmed by the flashi
ng lights of five Fulton County police cars parked along the front and side entrances. Joe threw Nona’s car into park just outside and had his badge up and faced out for presentation to the uniformed officers guarding the doors.

  “They’re with me,” Joe said as he pointed at me, Rhonda, and Dags.

  “This isn’t your jurisdiction,” the cop said as he put a hand on Joe’s chest.

  “Chester,” a deep voice said. “Let them through.”

  I looked past the officer and saw a tall, broad-shouldered African-American dressed in a nice, tailored suit and shiny shoes. He had a very handsome face and a stern expression. Captain Cooper stood beside him down the hall and looked relatively small beside him.

  And Cooper wasn’t a small man.

  But he was winking at me.

  Oh, geez . . . TC was still inside of him.

  The four of us approached the two men, and I was vaguely aware of the lack of nurses and orderlies in the hallways. Or even residents. It was like someone had put all the Wheelchair Wandas and Willies in their rooms.

  Cooper did the introductions. “Joe, this is Captain Morgan Haskins, in charge of the situation here. Captain, this is Sergeant Joe Halloran.”

  The two shook hands, and again I was amazed at how short everyone looked next to the captain. “Detective Halloran—” The man’s voice was like a mixture of James Earl Jones and Laurence Fishburne. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  The look on Joe’s face was priceless as he glanced at Captain Cooper. “Well . . . I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. But I have heard some very impressive things about you, sir.” Joe looked around and found me and pulled me up closer. “This is Zoë Martinique, the victim’s daughter.”

  I looked up with wide-eyed wonder as my own hand disappeared inside of the captain’s. I was relieved to find his skin warm to the touch and his grip gentle.

  “Miss Martinique,” he said, and smiled. “I promise you we’ll get to the bottom of things shortly. But I do have to ask you a few questions.”

  I nodded. I was staring at his face . . . and there was something about it that wasn’t . . .

  “Where’s Dags?” Joe said.

  I blinked several times to look away from the captain and turned my attention to our position. Looking around, I said, “I don’t know. He was right here.” I had the sneaking suspicion he’d done his little “I’m not really here” shtick and was around doing his own investigative work.

  Fine by me. Dags I trusted.

  “And who is this young lady? I haven’t—”

  When he stopped talking abruptly, I turned and looked at Rhonda, then I looked up at him. His eyes were wide, and his expression completely unguarded.

  Joe started the introduction, but Haskins was already stepping forward and reaching for Rhonda’s hand. “Miss Orly—it is an honor to meet you. Your uncle’s pictures and description did not do you justice.”

  Joe, Cooper, and I looked at Rhonda, then looked at Haskins as he kissed the back of her right hand, then we looked back at Rhonda again. Excuse me?

  “Sir—you know Miss Orly?”

  “I knew her uncle. My father was a supporter, and we were often invited to their house in the country.”

  Red sirens went off in my head. Ah! This was a Dioscuri thing! This smelled of that Ishmael Society—especially with the way he reacted to her. Like she was some sort of princess or something.

  “May we talk for a moment?” Haskins said to Rhonda.

  “Whoa,” I said, and held up my hands. “My mom? What about my mom? Who the fuck is trying to find my mom’s body? Didn’t anyone see who took her?”

  I had my mouth open to say more but someone grabbed my shoulders and turned me just as Haskins and Rhonda stepped away from us as well as the entrance we’d come through. Cooper/TC had both his hands on my shoulders and was looking at me, searching my face.

  “What?”

  But he looked at Joe. “Both of you follow me.”

  And we did. Down the hall away from the uniformed officers and directly into Mom’s room. It was empty—her night-gown neatly folded on the bed as well as the booties they’d had on her feet. The side pantry that doubled as a closet was also opened, and the spare change of clothes I’d always kept there was gone from the hangers.

  I looked at Cooper. “What—what happened?”

  Cooper had his hands on his hips. “According to the nurse—your mother got up, got dressed, said good-bye and thanks, and walked out.”

  “Walked out?” Joe and I said in unison. And in harmony.

  Sighing, Cooper nodded. “Are you two dense? I’d have the nurse tested for drugs or alcohol, but I’m almost sure she’d test okay. But the doctors I spoke with said there was no way your mother could do that. Not after the month of atrophy done to her muscles, the lack of use—” He shook his head. “I don’t buy it.”

  Joe spoke up. “What did Haskins say?”

  Cooper looked at him. “He hasn’t heard that story yet. As far as he knows, somebody came in and took Miss Martinique’s body.” Then he looked at me. “Guy gives me the creeps. He’s more than what he seems, Zoë. But like this, I can’t really see what it is.”

  His familiarity with me put Joe on alert. He was looking from me to Cooper. “What do you mean ‘see’?”

  I decided to divert that question, in case TC thought it would be fun to expose himself. Literally. “How was she taken?”

  “Someone picked her up. There was a car waiting outside.”

  “Make? Model?”

  “The nurse didn’t notice—she was too busy standing at the front door with her mouth open.” Cooper pursed his lips. “But she did mention several times that Miss Martinique was very gracious.” He snapped his fingers. “Oh, and she asked about a necklace. A green one.”

  Joe and I glanced at each other. “A necklace?” Joe said.

  “What—you know about a necklace?” Cooper looked at me.

  I nodded. I was feeling a little dizzy. When was the last time I’d eaten? “Oh . . . uhm . . . yeah. It was a family heirloom.” Mom actually owned an Eidolon pendant, a green one. It was the Creation Eidolon. I’d kept it when they’d put Mom’s body in the hospital, and I’d hung it over the door to Mom’s shop.

  To be honest—I wasn’t sure where it was. I’d forgotten about it. That might be a problem.

  Cooper’s phone rang. He took it off his belt, checked the number, then held up the index finger of his right hand. “You two stay right there.” Then he moved away toward the window. It was looking to me like TC was enjoying being a cop for a day.

  Something brushed against my cheek, then traveled down my back. I shivered visibly and wrapped my arms around my chest.

  “Zoë?” Joe said as he stepped closer. He reached out and touched my shoulder. “You okay? You know . . . your voice is getting worse, and you’re awfully pale.” He leaned in closer. “You know where Dags is?”

  I shook my head at him, but I wasn’t really paying attention. There was something here . . . in this room . . . and it wasn’t anything I could see.

  Damn it all for not being Wraith! If I could just be what I was, I knew I could find my mom!

  And what the hell made off with her body? It didn’t take Rhonda or Dags to tell me something had invaded my mom’s body, possessed it, and driven it right out of here. Which was, of course, easier than trying to carry it out.

  Unfortunately I knew who it wasn’t—and I knew who was going to say it was.

  “That Archer creep did this, didn’t he? He’s got her soul, now he just possessed her body and walked right out with it.”

  I looked up at him, at his face. And for a strange second I wanted to reach up and touch his cheek. He looked so distraught—like Daniel used to when he—

  Like Daniel used to.

  Where is Daniel? Damn . . . I’d nearly forgotten what Joe had learned about him and his connection to the three deaths.

  Cooper closed his phone. He didn’t look happy.

/>   “Things just keep getting weirder and weirder. Joe—we’ve got to head back into Decatur. They’ve found another victim near Little Five Points.”

  I felt my heart drop. Back to Decatur?

  “You said victim, not body.” Joe asked, “Someone alive?”

  “According to what that dog-named guy just said on the phone.”

  I knew he meant Mastiff. Joe’s expression turned from a frown, to a smirk, then back to a frown. Cooper was acting just a tad more off than usual, and Joe noticed.

  I stepped to Cooper to divert attention again. “What about my mom’s body?” And I gave him an extra-glary look.

  He looked down at me, and I could see just a hint of red flare in his eyes, a reminder that he was there. But I didn’t back down. “Miss Martinique—I understand your frustration. But the best I can do is put a missing person bulletin on the body. She’s not dead—she was alive while she was in here. So it’s a kidnapping. We’ll do what we can. But Haskins is in charge of this case, not me.”

  He was reminding me he wasn’t really Cooper, then he left the room.

  My God—where was my life going? And where was my mom going? Where did whatever it was possessing her take her body? The gravity of the situation wasn’t lost on me. Hours before, when Joe had been telling me to forget about using any Eidolons to bring Mom’s soul back, I knew where her body was. Even without knowing how I was going to get her soul back—having her physically there was almost like having her back. Almost.

  But now—I had no mommy soul, no mommy body, and no Summoning rock.

  I suddenly had an awful thought.

  Okay, I’d been having a lot of awful thoughts lately—but this one made me stand straight up, shoulders back, breasts out. “What if—” I said in my outside voice.

  Joe was beside me. “What if what?”

  I looked at him. “What if what possessed my mom’s body was the Horror?”

  He made a face. I wasn’t expecting that face either. It was a pinched look, kinda like you give a child who just pooped in her pants. “Come on, Zoë. You don’t believe TC on that, do you? I’d bet real cash it was TC piloting your mom’s body. And aren’t Symbionts supposed to heal their hosts?”