by Joyce Lavene
“I was wondering when you were going to get here.” His pale blue eyes searched the interior of the car. “Where’s Debbie? And what’s he doing here?”
“Debbie’s home today, unless we have a pick up. I brought Lucas to take a look at the murder scene and the victim.”
“I thought Abe wanted her to be with you while you investigated,” he retorted. “I don’t think he’d be happy to see Lucas here.”
“Abe told me to do what was needed to figure out who killed Harold,” I reminded him. “That’s what I’m doing.”
Brandon smiled as Lucas got out of the car. “But doesn’t Abe think Lucas killed Harold?”
“If he does, he has only respect for him. I’m sure he won’t mind if I tap into his skill set.”
Lucas reached us and held out his hand to Brandon. “Good morning. Is there a problem?”
“No. Absolutely not.” The slight breeze blew the thin blond strands of Brandon’s longish hair. “Harold is right in here. See what you think.”
We went inside. I could see Lucas’s breath in the cold air. It didn’t feel cold to me, but nothing did. Brandon led us past several closed doors to the autopsy room. I wondered if Jane Darcy was in one of those rooms.
Brandon turned on the bright overhead light and swept the green sheet off Harold’s naked body. “I got the snakes out of him. Cause of death was pretty easy—the snake in his throat suffocated him. If that hadn’t happened, the rest of the snakes inside him would have killed him for sure. They were everywhere—”
“We get the picture.” I stopped his explanation.
Lucas glanced around the otherwise empty room. “Where are the snakes?”
“They were all dead by the time we got the body in here. I removed them and put them in separate containers just in case someone asked.” Brandon grinned at him. “Would you like to take a look at them?”
“Yes,” Lucas said. “Were they all living snakes, as far as you know?”
“You mean the kind you could look up and categorize?” Brandon asked as he led us into a smaller room and switched on another light. “Yes. I looked them up last night. They were from all over the world—like someone broke into a reptile house at the zoo and liberated a few. But they were real snakes.”
Lucas immediately started examining the snakes in each glass container. He took them out and held them in his hands as he closed his eyes to concentrate on them.
“So how’s Debbie’s husband doing?” Brandon asked as we watched Lucas.
“He’s getting crazier.” I shrugged. “I don’t know what she’s going to do with him.”
“Well, we know he can’t die yet. He’s one of Abe’s people, like us. Maybe Abe can do something for him.”
“I don’t see that happening since Abe wants Debbie, do you?”
“Not really. Do you think Debbie will want Abe if she can’t control Terry?”
“I don’t know. But you better quit drooling over her before Abe notices. He might decide to terminate your contract before it’s time.”
“That won’t happen.” Brandon chuckled. “Abe’s a stickler for his contracts. He never brings anyone in early.”
I smiled at him and the worried frown that had appeared between his brows. “I’m sure you’re right. Any plans for your last year of half-life?”
“I plan to drink, gamble, and have sex with as many people as possible. Are you busy tonight, Skye?”
He was joking—at least partially so. I had no doubt that if I’d agreed to have sex with him in one of his plush coffins, he wouldn’t turn me down. I was surprised to see Lucas break his concentration to glare at Brandon for a moment before he returned his focus to the dead cobra in his hands.
“Yeah.” Brandon cleared his throat. “Just razzing you, Lucas. Really. I think of Skye as a sister. A sexy sister, but you get the idea. No need to cut off my head.”
Lucas put the cobra back into its jar and went to the sink to wash his hands. “And where did the man die?”
“Don’t you want to examine Harold?” Brandon asked.
“It’s not necessary.” Lucas dried his hands. “I would like to see where he died.”
“I’ll take you,” I volunteered. “We can walk from here.”
Lucas turned to Brandon and shook his hand again. “I wouldn’t suggest you consider Skye as you do Debbie, my friend. It could be unhealthy for you, even in your current dead state.”
Chapter Nine
“What does that mean?” I asked as Lucas and I walked outside.
“I think Brandon and I are clear on my meaning.” His brilliant green eyes stared straight ahead as we walked toward the alley.
“But I don’t think I’m clear on the meaning. Maybe you could explain.” I put my hand on his arm to stop his forward motion. “What you and I have—”
“Isn’t to be shared with others. You have my mark of protection on you, Skye.”
“But that doesn’t mean I belong to you.”
“Yet you have adjusted to the idea that you belong to Abe.”
His gaze was riveted on mine. I had his full attention. “Not all right exactly, just necessary. But you and I don’t belong to each other. We’re convenient, right? We have a give and take that works for both of us. It’s not romantic, right?”
“Are we not?” His voice was intense, deep. “Do we not belong to one another?”
I didn’t know what to say. I’d assumed his feelings for me were the same as mine for him. He was taking our relationship more seriously than I was. Maybe that was because I still loved Jacob. If Lucas had someone in his past, he probably didn’t remember. That might make it easier for him to bond with me.
“Skye?”
“I’m sorry. It’s too soon for me to feel that way about anyone. I might never feel that way again.” I put my hand on his face, hoping not to see some terrible sadness in his eyes. I didn’t want to hurt him.
He kissed my hand and then took it in his to walk the rest of the way to the alley. “Perhaps someday.”
I was glad to see Abe and Morris behind the yellow crime scene tape in the dirty alley when we arrived. Brandon must have called him.
Work was what I needed to keep from being swallowed up by grief at that moment. I understood this. It was part of me.
“Lucas!” Abe called out to him as though they were old friends. He stuck out his huge black hand. “I’m very glad to see you.”
I was afraid for a moment that Lucas wouldn’t shake his hand. But after a brief hesitation, he took Abe’s hand for a moment. He didn’t smile the way Abe did, but he was pleasant.
“Abe. I understand you have a problem.”
“That’s right.” Abe moved closer to Lucas. “Do I have you to thank for an opening in my organization?”
“No. I haven’t changed my mind about working for you. But I am here to help Skye if I can. Where was your magic user killed?”
Morris was standing right where we’d found Harold’s body. He took a step back and grinned. “Right here. Cast your magic eyes this way, sorcerer.”
Lucas gave him all the regard one would give a fly at a picnic. “If you will all back away, please.”
Abe stood beside me with Morris on the other side of Lucas.
“And you said he can’t control his magic.” Abe made a humphing sound. “He looks and feels in control to me.”
“I can’t speak for him, but I’ve never seen him use magic around the house.”
“No?” Abe’s brows went up. “What about when he killed Jasper?”
“Like I said, that was different. He seems to be able to perform magic on combustion engines if you’d like to hire him as a mechanic. Maybe my van could get repaired faster in that case.”
“Yes. I’m sorry it’s taking so long. Does the car suffice?”
I took a page from Debbie’s book. “You could get me a new van.”
He chuckled. “I’m sure it will be repaired before that, Skye.”
Lucas walked around the
area where Harold’s body had been. He closed his eyes and concentrated, a dark frown on his face. When he finished, he faced Abe. “I feel something here, but I don’t know what it is.”
Morris laughed loudly. “Good thing he doesn’t want to work for you, Abe. I don’t think he knows what he’s doing.”
“What is it you don’t understand, Lucas?” Abe ignored Morris, as he usually did.
“I believe it is something about the context of the man’s death. There is magic left here from the killer, but the snakes were real, perhaps enchanted.”
Abe stared at me instead of Lucas. “Is he saying he doesn’t know who killed Harold?”
“I think so. Sorry. I thought he might be able to help.”
“Yes. I think perhaps you had better go it alone. This one seems to be as useless as you claim.” Abe thanked Lucas in a loud voice for his help before he and Morris disappeared back inside the tattoo shop.
“He seemed unimpressed.” Lucas smiled as he ducked under the crime scene tape. “He doubts my magic, doesn’t he?”
“It’s probably just as well. I’m sure it’s better if the two of you don’t spend a lot of time together.”
We started back toward the mortuary and the Festiva in the parking lot. I was determined to see Gerald Linker before I went home that day. I wanted to do it right away in case a surprise LEP pick up happened. Sometimes it seemed as though Abe forgot that one of his people needed to end their twenty years until the last moment.
“I kept something to myself,” Lucas confided as we got into the car.
“Smart.” I turned to him. “What was it?”
He rubbed his hands together and then held out his left hand. “I know what the killer looks like.”
“Show me.”
A pale blue mist formed in the palm of his hand. The mist became more solid, taking on the features of a man. As I watched, the ghost man in Lucas’s hand started moving. He leaned against the old brick wall, smoking cigarettes as he waited for his prey.
“I found some gold glittery rings on a few cigarette butts in the alley. They just called to me out of all the other garbage out there. I knew they were important.”
“His face is not as well defined as I would like.” Lucas and I peered into the tiny blue man’s face. “Perhaps I might be able to make it clearer for you.”
But the image vanished. Lucas rubbed his hands again, but it didn’t return.
“You do still have some magic,” I observed, not ever quite sure if this was a good or bad thing.
“It has taken me almost a year to get this far, and still I can’t make this what it needs to be. Perhaps there is some control but nothing as powerful as I might like.”
“Still, it’s something. I wasn’t sure if the cigarettes meant anything. I’ll go to a smoke shop and see if anyone can ID the wrapper.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your enthusiasm.”
I smiled and squeezed his hand. At least it was something I could report to Abe to let him know I was working on the case. I didn’t have to tell him about the image Lucas had conjured. And I’d have time to check out Gerald Linker.
It was a long drive back to Wanderer’s Lake. The weather looked iffy. I didn’t want to take Lucas with me to see Gerald, but I didn’t want to take a chance that I might have to put it off. If Gerald had any information that could help me with Jacob’s death, I was hungry for it.
I started the Festiva—not a bit of trouble. Who knew magic was good for making cars go?
“I need to make another stop,” I explained as we left the mortuary.
“The smoke shop?”
“No. This is personal. You don’t have to come in with me. You can wait in the car.”
“I don’t mind going with you. Is there some danger involved?”
“No.” I told him about the lead I’d had on Jacob’s death. “This man might have some answers.”
“Unlikely since you said he couldn’t do anything to help his dead wife,” he reminded me.
I swerved in and out of traffic as I headed toward the address. “They thought he was crazy. No one would listen to him. I will. That might make a difference.”
He looked at me. “Or it could kill you.”
“Unlikely since I’m already dead. It will be okay, Lucas. I can handle myself. You wait in the car. Okay?”
I thought the matter was resolved until we came up on the old blue-sided house. Lucas got out of the car at the same time I did.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said.
“I shall nonetheless.” He slammed the door hard enough to let me know that I couldn’t change his mind.
“Just don’t get in the way. We don’t know—you might be able to die.”
The front yard of the older house reminded me of what Apple Betty’s Inn had looked like before Lucas came to stay. The shrubs, flowers, and trees were overgrown. Weeds grew up through cracks in the sidewalk. The screen door had been taken off the house and set on the porch. The front door was weathered, paint peeling from it.
I took out my Beretta as we approached.
“You said this wasn’t dangerous,” Lucas said.
“There’s no reason to be careless,” I told him in a muted voice. “This man has been through a lot in the last few years. I don’t want to take any chances.”
Lucas nodded, and I pushed myself into the lead ahead of him. It made sense since I had the gun. We went slowly up the stairs. I could feel him scanning the windows and doors as I did. There was no sign that anyone was home, no car in the drive or music coming from the house.
We were at the door. I held the Beretta to the side and down so it wasn’t easily visible. I knocked on the shabby wood portal, but there was no response.
“Do you hear anything?” I whispered.
“No.” He paused. “Wait—”
Only a breath later, a shotgun shell blew a large hole in the door. I fell to the porch, taking Lucas with me. It seemed someone was home after all.
Chapter Ten
“Gerald Linker!” I called out from my place on the worn porch. “My name is Skye Mertz. My husband died on State Road 3714, just like your wife Julie. I need your help.”
There was no response. Maybe it was a good sign. At least he didn’t shoot at us again.
“Gerald?” I tried again. “I know everyone has given you a hard time. They don’t believe what you saw. They think your wife was killed in the wreck. They think the same thing about my husband, Jacob. Let’s work together. We can figure this out.”
There was no response again. Feeling hopeful, I raised my head to peer in through the hole in the door. Before I could move, the business end of the shotgun was pushed through it and into my face.
I might have learned the truth about whether or not zombies could die except that Lucas pushed me back and put his body in front of mine. He waved his hand and called out a word that I didn’t understand.
Breathing hard, I whispered, “What happened?”
Lucas pushed the door open. The man on the other side of it didn’t move. The shotgun was still stuck through the hole. His eyes were transfixed on the door.
I poked him. Gerald still didn’t move. “Did you do this?”
“You were in danger.” He shrugged and stepped back to look at the frozen man.
“It’s the emotional thing, right? You just stopped him with your magic. You’ve used it twice in one day—actually only about an hour apart.”
“It is better than you having a hole in your head, alive or dead.”
“You’re probably right. And at least you didn’t kill him. Do you know how to make him move again?”
He blinked. “I am not certain as yet. Perhaps the answer will come to me.”
I sat down on a broken wood chair that was propped up by a kitchen table covered in beer cans and takeout food packaging. “Got any ideas?”
“No. I’m not sure what I did.” Lucas circled Gerald the same way he’d circled the spot where Harold had died
.
“Maybe we can take the gun away from him before he starts moving again and the whole thing gets ugly.” I pried the shotgun from Gerald’s stiff hands. He looked exhausted and much older than I expected from the pictures I’d seen of him in the newspaper.
He was pliable though. I took the shells out of the shotgun and put them in my pocket. I put the gun on the table and tucked my Beretta in its holster.
“Now what?” I asked Lucas.
“Now we wait. No magic lasts forever.”
“That seems like a broad parameter.” I sat in the chair by the table and waited.
It didn’t take long. Gerald began to flex his fingers and blink his eyes. The next instant, he was walking and talking. He wasn’t sure about what had happened and wasn’t happy about it.
“What the hell are you doing in my house?” He glanced around, perplexed.
“Take it easy,” I advised, getting to my feet. “I’m Skye Mertz. I want to talk about your wife.”
“Go away.” He shoved his burly body between me and Lucas to go into the living room. “I don’t want to talk about that anymore.”
I followed him. The room looked as though it had gone through an earthquake, but I pushed some empty food containers off a chair and sat opposite him.
“I know you’ve told a lot of people about what happened that night, but I guarantee you’ll never find a better audience than me. My husband, Jacob, died the same way. I didn’t cause a ruckus like you did because I almost died too.”
Lucas raised one brow but didn’t say anything.
“I don’t know you,” Gerald said. “Why should I trust you? You don’t know what I’ve been through.”
“Yes, I do. I looked you up. I know what they did to you for telling the truth. I’m sorry that happened, but you and I could still make this right.”
Gerald’s broad face hadn’t seen a razor or soap and water in a while. His clothes were filthy and reeked of food and sweat. There was no air conditioning in the old house, and the scurrying I heard along the walls sounded like his companions were mostly rats.
“Julie is dead. That’s what I didn’t get when it happened. Nothing can bring her back.” He started sobbing and put his head in his hands. “Who cares about the rest of it? She’s gone.”
