Dark Secrets: A Paranormal Romance Anthology

by Colleen Gleason

  “Come now. If he’s going to be part of the team, we should at least try to include him in our social activities. I’ll take him with me to see Cho. I have an appointment in a few weeks.”

  “Charlie, if you get any more tattoos I’m going to start calling you Lydia the Tattooed Lady and sell tickets.”

  She ignored my comment and continued planning. “Cho only does spell ink, but there’s a pleb artist in the same shop. I’ll call and see if they can’t fit Dan in.”

  Even though the thought of Dan with a tattoo seemed so absurd, I couldn’t get the image out of my head. Between bites of eggs, I mused. “He might go for it if we picked out a little black hearse or something like that.”

  Charlie slapped the table. “I’ve got it! A Day of the Dead skull with an embalming tube wrapped around it.”

  “No.” I was laughing so hard now that a tear ran down my cheek. “That’s too symbolic. He needs something literal. A dead guy in a coffin with two thumbs up.”

  “Hello!” A voice called up the stairs. We both stopped laughing and held our breath. “Charlie, are you up?” Dan’s voice echoed from the door. “I came in early so I could be sure everything was perfect.”

  Charlie and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  “Uhm…Hello?”

  I snorted and waved my hand frantically, trying to get Charlie to stop laughing. “We’re up here, Dan,” I said, dabbing at the tears running down my cheeks.

  The door cracked open, and he peeked around the frame. “Did I miss out on a joke?”

  Without missing a beat, Charlie said, “We were just discussing art.”

  He opened the door all the way and nodded. "Art’s cool,” he said, “but I don't like that abstract stuff.”

  Another round of hysterics hit me, and I had to take deep gulping breaths to get myself under control. Dan opened his mouth as if to say something else, and I held up a hand in a plea for mercy. “Please. I’m done. I’ll see you downstairs.” I grabbed the toast from my plate and fled the room, leaving a befuddled Dan in my wake.

  My morning may have freed up, but I still had work to do while I waited for Rick. I put on a pot of coffee and headed to my office.

  When Terry bequeathed me Armstrong’s Funeral Home, I was thrilled. After working with him for years, I knew the funeral home was where I belonged. But when I walked into my office and saw the blinking red light on the phone and the piles of unopened mail, I wished I had a simple nine-to-five job. It would be nice not to worry about making payroll or meeting the current government regulations. Being in charge wasn’t as glamorous as the brochure had made it sound.

  After an hour of working on billing and cost reports, my eyes started to cross. I needed another cup of coffee and perhaps a donut from the kitchen. The quiet sound of mourners filtered in from the nine a.m. viewing as I opened the door. Unable to help myself, I crept through the crowd and made the rounds.

  Charlie and Dan had everything under control. I spotted a few things I would have done differently, but overall I felt like a proud parent. My little Dan was all grown up.

  Dan noticed me in the crowd, and a look of concern washed over his face. Worried there was a problem, I crossed the room.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  Before he could answer, a young woman walked up and grabbed my hand. She was the daughter, but for the life of me I couldn’t remember her name. “Thank you so much. You’ve done such a wonderful job.”

  Mary Beth? Mary Sue? Damn it. I stayed out too late last night, and my head was a little foggy. “If there’s anything you need, please ask. We’re here to help you in any way we can.”

  “Everything has gone so well.” She smiled at Dan. “You’ve been so helpful. I just wanted you to know that.”

  Mary Anne! That was it. “Thank you, Mary Anne, Dan will be here if you need anything.” She gave a sad nod and moved away to join the rest of her family.

  I turned back to Dan. “You looked worried there for a minute. Do you need some help?”

  “I don't think so. I thought you were going to be busy, and when you came out... I don’t know. I thought I was doing something wrong. Everything is exactly like you showed me. I didn’t forget something, did I? Are we out of coffee? Do I have enough memorial pamphlets? Oh my God, was this supposed to be a closed casket?”

  I placed a hand on his shoulder and sent out some calming energy. “Dan, take a breath. You’re doing just fine. I came out to see if you needed any help. Everything looks perfect.”

  “You think so?” His voice was so full of relief I almost laughed.

  “Of course I do. I trained you, after all. Plus, if you screwed this up I was going to fire you.” He turned sheet white, and I laughed. “I’m kidding. Loosen up, Dan. Charlie was right. Next week we’re taking you out. You’re part of our team now. We look out for one another.”

  “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” His lower lip quivered a bit, and I prayed he wouldn’t tear up.

  Really? Was I that intimidating? I let out a deep sigh. I needed to work on my people skills. “Keep up the good work.” I patted his arm gently and went back to my office.

  After a few minutes, I heard a light knock on the door. It was still early, and I wasn’t ready for Rick yet. I was trying to formulate a cohesive thought when Charlie pushed the door open.

  “Olivia, I’m sorry. I tried to handle this, but Mr. Zell insisted on speaking to you directly.”

  Zell? I ran through a mental list and remembered one of my waiting messages. Mrs. Zell had passed away the previous night, and Dan had overseen the pickup. She had a prearranged service. Everything was already in place, so this should be easy.

  “It's fine, Charlie. Show him in.” Despite all the paperwork, kidnappings, and jurisdictional rivalries to deal with, I knew death wasn’t about to wait for me to get my act together. Neither did the bereaved.

  Charlie pushed open the door, and a large middle-aged man waddled past her, moving as though each step took a renewed effort. His skin had an unhealthy hue, and a light sheen of perspiration glistened on his brow. Upon seeing me, his lips screwed up as though he’d just bit into something unpleasant.

  “Mr. Zell, I’m so sorry for your loss. The nursing home contacted us last night. Be assured we have everything in place per you mother’s wishes.”

  “HA! I don’t see why you’re sorry. You’ve swindled my mother out of her savings.” He pounded my desk, a crumpled invoice clutched in his meaty fist.

  So it was going to be that kind of meeting. “Mr. Zell, I can assure you that your mother—”

  “Was cheated by you,” he interrupted. “I’ve seen that Dateline show. I know how you guys work. I want her money back. I mean, look at these charges. Wood coffin: Seventeen hundred. Transport charge: six hundred. Preparation fees…It’s highway robbery.”

  He was getting loud, and I didn’t want the other family hearing him. I knew the fastest way to deal with this would be to figure out his motivation. Slipping the silver ring off, I reached out my senses and concentrated. A hot blast of anger hit me, but there was something else.

  “I can assure you, your mother was extremely cost-conscious when she made her arrangements,” I said, still probing. “We managed to keep the total cost under eight thousand.”

  Bingo! That was it. A sour hint of need flowed in my direction at the mention of cost. This wasn’t about his mother. It was all about greed. I watched him lick his lips; an insatiable want for more wafted from him.

  “You took advantage of her. She doesn’t need all this crap. Do you have any idea how large her medical bills are?”

  What an asshole! I had spent a week with Ina Zell at the nursing home, planning her funeral. The end stages of lung cancer had ravaged her body, and she knew it was just a matter of time. Ina loved her son and had made all the arrangements so he wouldn’t have to. She’d even told me there was a healthy inheritance and life insurance policy.

  This was
the worst part of the business. I saw it all the time, but it still made me angry. My “pleasant” smile started to slip. “Mr. Zell, I’d be happy to talk with you about your mother’s arrangements.”

  “I’m going to call Channel 26 news and tell them how you swindled my mother.”

  Screw reasonable, I decided.

  I pushed a wave of power toward him infused with serenity.

  “Mr. Zell, we’ve done nothing wrong.” I continued to send calming feelings his direction.

  “Uh. Well…I suppose. But that still seems like wasted money.”

  I cranked it up to happy, and gave another little bump. “She did this for you. She wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be burdened, so she took care of everything.”

  “Okay.” His face slackened, breath slowing. A flash of confusion shot through his eyes, but then he smiled. “Mom was always great at planning. I shouldn’t be worried, right?”

  “Your mother did a terrific job planning. She was a lovely woman. I’ll be sure to take exceptional care of her. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” I looked in Charlie’s direction and nodded toward the door.

  “If you’ll follow me. I’ll show you the programs your mother selected.” Charlie led him out of the office, eyeing my bare hand. She shook her head and closed the door behind her.

  I picked up the ring and fingered the smooth silver. I’d done nothing wrong. Grumbling under my breath, I slammed the desk drawer shut. My gut twisted. Part of me felt sick, but another part felt justified, and that’s what scared me.

  Noon came and went. Maybe Inspector Bishop was going to cancel. I wasn’t sure it would make a difference in my plan. King might be more willing to work with me if the Order wasn’t involved.

  My cell buzzed, shaking me out of my meditation. Brad’s smiling face looked back at me from the screen.

  “Hello?” I wondered what Brad could want.

  “Hey, I have tonight free. How about we reschedule that date?”

  “I’ve got a lot going on right now. I’m not sure when I’ll be free.” I kicked myself for having opened this can of worms again. I couldn’t keep stringing him along. He deserved that much. “Listen, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking the other night. I don’t think going out is a good idea. Nothing's changed since we broke up.”

  “I know, but I thought you might reconsider now that you’ve worked at the coroner’s office for a while. You could go back to just being a funeral director. You don’t need to use magic to do that.”

  I let out the breath I’d been holding. Brad still thought being a witch was a lifestyle choice. That if I cared enough about him, I could stop being a witch.

  “I’m not going to argue with you about this. It’s my fault I let you believe things were different between us. I really am sorry.”

  “Yeah, Sally told me how sorry you were. You don’t have time for me, but you had time for a quiet lunch with some Order lackey. And now there’s an FPD asshole trying to push his weight around the station. Things don’t have to be this way. You have other options.” His voice was bitter with old resentment.

  “Brad, it’s who I am. Changing isn’t an option. We’ve talked about this…”

  “Don’t bother. I guess you made your choice.”

  The line went dead, and I stared at the silent phone in disbelief. I didn’t understand why I felt ashamed. I was tired of pretending to be something I wasn’t. But even though he was totally out of line, a small part of me mourned the fact I couldn’t be the woman he wanted.

  Rick arrived about an hour later, and Charlie showed him in. She glanced in my direction and mouthed a supportive “you can do this.”

  I sighed. Here goes nothing. “Please, take a seat.”

  “I enjoyed our lunch yesterday,” Rick said and sat across from me. “After I left, I looked you up. I don’t know why I didn’t connect you with Joseph Harmon. He wasn’t just a teacher in St. Louis. He was the Provost, and the leading American expert in charm craft.”

  I shrugged off his accolades, unused to the praise. I knew my father was something of a celebrity in Order circles, but around here the Harmon family members were more oddities than local heroes. With a sweeping gesture, I smiled. “Not exactly what you’d expect from the daughter of a legend, is it?”

  A smile crossed his lips. “Oh, you’re exactly what I expected.” Rick sat back in the chair, examining me with a curious glint in his eye. “It actually explains a lot.”

  I was tiring of this cat-and-mouse game, so I was direct. “I appreciate your coming back. I’m happy to assist you in any way I can, but unless you’ve been officially invited by the local authorities, there’s not much I can do.”

  “If you can’t release the items, I understand. But is there any way I can at least take a look at what was in the car? I was hoping there would be something that could help me find the other girl.”

  The figure I had glimpsed during my reading could have been the girl; I thought about telling him, but hesitated. Charlie seemed convinced that I needed both Rick and Agent King, working together.

  “I had an intriguing visit from an FPD agent yesterday afternoon after you left. Special Agent Samuel King.”

  “Oh,” he said, undisturbed by the mention. “Is the FPD finally taking these disappearances seriously?”

  “I don’t know. King is here because of Scott Malone, not the girls.”

  “Figures. Missing kids from the witch tenements wouldn’t warrant a visit from the very Special Agent King.” Rick stared out the window, a mixture of resentment, frustration, and maybe even a bit of regret pulsing from him.

  “Should I be concerned that he doesn’t want to work with you?”

  “Samuel and I go way back. His problems with me are personal and have nothing to do with my case.”

  His statement sounded sincere, but it still didn’t explain much. I began to fidget with my still-bare finger, and thought how easy it would be to find out myself.

  “So, am I telling the truth?” he quipped, snapping me back to the moment. I followed his gaze to my ring sitting on the desk, and my hands stilled.

  “I wasn’t reading you. I wouldn’t... I just want to know why there seems to be bad blood between you. It’s important. I have to know I can trust you.” I was babbling now. I bit my lip and let out a deep breath. The encounter with Mr. Zell still sat heavy in my mind. I hadn’t done anything wrong. And even if I had used my powers, so what? I had the skill. Why shouldn’t I use it?

  I slipped the ring back on my finger. “I wasn’t reading you,” I said again.

  Rick looked up, meeting my gaze, and shook his head sadly. “If you have doubts, why didn’t you use your power?” he asked, echoing my own thoughts. He raised his hand in a dismissive gesture when I didn’t answer. “I’ve told you exactly what I'm interested in. No one else is looking for her but me.”

  “I think I can talk Agent King into helping with your case—”

  “No!” The ferocity of his objection caught me off guard. “Sarah’s parents came to the Order because no one else would listen, especially the FPD. The authorities didn’t care enough to look for the girls. They wrote the whole thing off as a couple of runaways. What does it matter that two more poor kids went missing. Why should they admit that some bastard snatched them?” His voice was harsh and full of bitterness. “These girls aren’t the first to go missing, and no one is looking for any of them. The FPD knows what’s going on. Hell. I wouldn’t put it past some of those bastards to cover the whole thing up. It would be bad for public relations.”

  A heavy silence filled the room while I processed what he'd said. After a moment, he asked, “Don’t you think it’s strange the FPD sent an agent up here just to collect Malone’s belongings? Why not just request a report?”

  This had crossed my mind. “Agent King seemed to believe Malone had been traveling with some dangerous charms,” I said.

  But was that enough for him to come up here? The reasoning sounded weak even to my ea
rs.

  With a soft laugh, Rick shook his head. “And that’s an appropriate use of Samuel’s time? Delivery service? I’ve worked with Samuel before. He’s a decent man and a talented witch. This is below his pay grade.”

  I turned and looked out the window. The landscape, in contrast to my emotions, seemed peaceful under a fresh blanket of snow. There was only one thing I could do. “Can you stop by my house tonight? I have some information I hope can help you. It’s my duty to help Agent King with his case, but I want to help you too.”

  “Samuel won’t thank you for getting me involved.”

  “That will be my problem. The FPD is focused on these charms, but if there’s a missing girl, that needs to be our focus.”

  “Fine, I’ll be there. But I’m not making any guarantees that I'll be able to change Samuel's mind. He may be a pro at his job, but he’s too rigid for his own good.I’m not backing down. Not this time.”

  Still unsure about how the night was going to play out, I gave him directions to my house. I really hoped I was making the right call.

  EIGHT

  January sixteenth

  I managed to slip out early so I could spend some time researching. I couldn’t shake the feeling I was missing a large chunk of information. And if I was going to poke my nose into something that didn’t involve me, I needed to be prepared. The charms were the best place to start, so I packed up the evidence bags along with the case files and headed home, hoping my father’s old texts would shed some light.

  I had two hours to prepare by the time I pulled off the main road onto my private drive. The anxiety was back, but when my house came into view I started to relax. Now that I was on my home court, I felt back in control.

  “Eclectic” would be the best word to describe the Harmon homestead. The loose stacked-stone walls reached up to meet the high gabled roof in a haphazard way, as though right angles and square rooms were the exception, not the rule. From the front, the house looked normal enough, like a fairy tale country cottage tucked away in an enchanted woods. The sight evoked images of girls with red cloaks and elderly grandmothers, but over the years my family built onto and expanded it. What looked like a simple two-story home was actually a sprawling compound of additions and outbuildings, and I loved every square inch of it.