by Natasha Deen
“That’s not right,” I said. “He’s part of this, I know it. What about the gun?”
“It’s not a real gun,” she said. “It’s a modified starter’s pistol, which has its own complications, but it wasn’t the weapon used on Hank.”
“What if the principal is telling the truth, then who did your dad go to see that night?” asked Serge. “There weren’t any messages, there’s nothing to track.”
“You had something,” I said to Nancy. “You said you would tell me later.”
“Let’s get home,” said Nancy. “We can talk about it somewhere warmer.” She put her hand up, then dug in her coat and pulled out her phone. “Yeah?” She said to the person on the other line. “Hold on. Repeat that.” She gestured for me to get in the car, but something in her tone said the call was about Dad.
Nancy swore, and looked my way. “God, I totally forgot.” She swore again. “Give him my number. I’ll take the call right away. You didn’t say anything, did you?” The question was asked sharply. “Okay, good. Friend or not, nothing gets out.” She rang off and turned my way. “Gregory Ryan.”
I looked blankly at her.
“Your dad’s friend in Florida.”
“Oh. Oh, crap, I forgot about him!”
“Apparently, my calls to him weren’t sufficient, and you not answering his texts added to his panic. He’s freaking out, hard. He says he’s got information we need on your dad’s murder, and he’s coming to town to help with Hank’s funeral arrangements.”
“Okay, but when he couldn’t get ahold of me, why didn’t he phone you? Why call the station?”
“I didn’t pick up, so he went with option B, but I’ll tap in. Maybe I can stall him from coming here. We have enough on our plate—” Her cell rang. “That’s him. Go home. I’ll be there soon.”
I climbed in the car and let it run for a bit.
“You lost yourself back there,” said Serge. “I wasn’t going to say anything in front of Nancy, but Mags, you’ve got to watch yourself. Grief can do weird things to a person.”
“If you mean what happened with Larry, I’m tired of his crap. He hates me—”
“Yeah, yeah, he hates your dad, and he hated me, too. That’s not the point.”
“What is it, then?” I put the car in gear and drove out of the lot.
“I saw Serena. You were pushing Larry too far.”
“I could have handled it.”
“Your dad was ex-military, and he couldn’t handle everything.”
My grip tightened on the wheel. “You’re talking about a mortal person versus—”
“I’m talking about that thing stepping inside you. Didn’t you feel it? Didn’t you sense it?”
“I was fine—”
“It was inside you,” he said. “And the fact you didn’t sense it should be proof you need to dial it back.”
“Larry has information on my dad. I feel it. Maybe he was working with someone else, like Mrs. Pierson, or Mrs. Sinclair, or one of the other idiots who hide their hate in the dark.”
“Maybe. But losing your mind on this isn’t going to help anyone. Serena’s gone rogue, so if she takes out Larry, I’m not going to lose any sleep. But the only way she’ll step in to do it is if you step out.” He put his hand on mine. “We already lost your dad. Don’t ask us to lose anyone else.”
I pulled the car to the shoulder. “My emotions are all over the place.”
“Excellent deduction, Sherlock. Mags, I’m positive saying the painfully obvious is step one of the grieving process, but we have two lunatic entities on the loose, and one of them is holding your dad’s spirit. Can you hurry up to step two?”
“Sometimes, I feel so cold inside, like there’s a yawning void between me and everyone else, and no matter how hard I try to cross it, my legs are stuck to the ground. And other times, I’m hyper emotional, and no matter what anyone says or does, it’s the wrong thing.”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “That’s called grief. Step one, telling me the blindingly obvious. Feel like trying for step two?”
“What’s step two?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I just blew up one night, and then everything was better.”
“Maybe for you. I was the one who had to clean up the chunks you left behind.”
“If you blow up, I’ll clean it.” He frowned. “I don’t know how I’ll do it, but I’ll figure out a way.”
“How did I not sense it? I’m supposed to be training to be a guardian, my powers are increasing, how was I not there—even in spirit—when my dad was taken?”
“Craig wasn’t allowed to see anything that connected with us. Maybe it’s the same thing.”
“But it’s me and Dad. We should have defied the normal.”
“Your relationship was special,” he said, “but I don’t think anyone gets special treatment, in this life or the next.”
“Maybe.”
He slumped in the seat. “I only got Hank for a couple of months.” His eyes misted. “I never had a dad, and then I had this amazing guy, and suddenly, he’s gone. And I’m a ghost who sees auras and energies. How did I not see that something was shadowing him?”
“You’ve only been dead for a while. I’ve been psychic all my life.”
“Yeah,” he said. “But we’re both training to be guardians. Plus, I’ve been to the other side. Of the two of us, I should be the one held responsible for not seeing what was coming.”
“You can’t be responsible.”
“Neither can you.”
I sighed. “Fair enough. I get your point, but…”
“It’s okay, Mags.” He squeezed my hand. “We’ll get through this together.”
When we got home, Nancy was already there in the kitchen. Nell and Craig were at the stove.
“Thought soup might be the trick,” said Nell. “Even if you don’t eat a lot, it has all the vitamins and veggies you need.”
“What did you find out?” I asked Nancy, taking the bowl and spoon Nell offered. “What was the thing you wanted to tell me?”
“I spent a frustrating morning phoning the Canadian military offices, trying to find out about Hank’s funeral arrangements,” she said. “When I finally got through to the correct office—” Her eyebrows pulled together. “—They said there’s no record of his service, or him.”
I set down the spoon, swallowed the rising nausea, and closed my eyes against the spinning room. “What?”
“Don’t freak out, kid. That might mean a lot of things. It could even be that the guy on the phone mixed up some letters in Hank’s name.”
“Maybe your dad was deep in the military,” said Nell. “And they scrubbed his name from the records.”
Impossible. “Dad could barely fix a flat tire, I don’t see him defusing bombs underwater or running point on some black ops.”
“He could’ve faked his incompetence,” said Craig. “Downplayed his abilities in order to fit in. That’s what I do.”
The sick feeling wouldn’t be pushed down. I’d spent my whole life trusting Dad, believing we were teammates against the world, telling him all my secrets. But it seemed his life with me had been a lie. And while I’d trusted him with my life, he couldn’t trust me with the truth. “What is going on? First, he tells you he’s military, but there’s no record of him. He couldn’t boil water, but he had guns stashed under the bed. Where’s the lie and where’s the truth?”
“Your dad loved you—”
“Love means being honest.” What if the secret he hid was the true reason behind his murder? What if my dad was never the guy I thought he was?
“Love means protection, and when it comes to parents, sometimes they make the wrong choice because they’re trying to keep their kids safe,” said Nancy. “Your dad was military, I know it. Gregory Ryan said he served with your dad.
He’s coming here, he insisted on it.” She flipped her braid over her shoulder as she leaned over the soup. “At first, I didn’t want him here.” She glanced at me. “I don’t want to explain to an outsider why I’m letting you do what you do. But I figure it’s also a chance to get information on your dad, and that might help our investigation into his killer.”
“Did he say anything when you told him what happened?”
She shook her head. “He said he was taking the first flight out and—”
We turned at the knock on the door.
“Stay here, all of you.” Nancy stood. “I’ll see who it is.”
“I’ll go with her,” said Serge. “Just in case.”
They went down the stairs, and the three of us followed.
Nancy turned, hearing the creak of floorboards behind her. “What did I say?”
“I listen for subtext,” said Nell. “And it said, back me up.”
Nancy glared at us. “Stay back.” Then she glared harder at Nell. “No subtext. Just stay.” She went down the rest of the steps and peered through the keyhole. “Oh.” She opened the door. Bruce and Tammy stepped inside.
“Hey.” Bruce waved up at us.
We waved back.
“We heard about the run-in with Principal Larry,” said Tammy. “Are you okay?”
I nodded.
“Come on in,” said Nancy, reaching for her boots. “I want to get back to work, anyway. See if there’s something I missed, or if the guys found something new.”
“You didn’t finish your soup,” said Nell.
“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t have much of an appetite.”
Nell headed into the kitchen and came back. “Head’s up.” She tossed a protein bar at Nancy. “Just in case.”
“You’re a good girl, Nell,” Nancy told her.
Nell grinned. “That’s what the boys tell me.”
Nancy rolled her eyes but smiled. “Maggie, call me if you need anything. Don’t open the doors to anyone, and make sure everything’s locked down.”
I nodded.
“We’ll stay with her,” said Craig. “It’ll be fine.”
After Nancy closed the door behind her, Tammy said, “Good, she’s gone,” and ran up the stairs. “I didn’t want to say anything, but there’re all kinds of rumours going around.”
“Most of them are stupider than dirt,” said Bruce. “Like your dad was selling body parts to medical universities. But—” He tossed his and Tammy’s jackets over the railing and jogged up the stairs. “I heard one of the guys, Rob, was fired by your dad. No one’s saying why he was let go, but word is that he was super pissed at your dad ’cause he couldn’t get a job anywhere else. Your dad has a rep. If he fired someone, then no one in town was trusting that guy.”
“When did this happen?” Craig asked.
Bruce sniffed the air. “That smells good.” He spotted the crock pot and headed to the table. “Rob was fired a couple of weeks ago.”
If there was a prize for worst daughter, I was in the running, if not the crowd favourite for the winner. How could my dad have been going through all this stuff and I never knew? Because I’d been too wrapped up in myself. Was that why he’d never talked to me about his past? Had he tried and I’d been too selfish to listen?
“Do you know why he was fired?” asked Nell.
Bruce shrugged as Craig handed him a bowl. “Everyone’s going to the gross and disgusting theories.”
“That makes sense,” said Nell. “Rob’s classless, and that’s saying a lot, coming from me.”
“Yeah, but Maggie’s dad would never let him go down that road in the first place,” said Bruce. He dished the soup and handed a bowl to Tammy, then took the second bowl Craig held out to him. “I think it was probably just Rob making jokes about the families of the dead person. Your dad would never have let something like that go. He was all about respect and being decent. Or Rob was stealing jewelry the dead were supposed to be buried in.”
No one could wear a mask twenty-four-seven, for seventeen years. Whatever was in my dad’s past, I had to hold to the man I knew, no matter what the future would reveal and no matter what weird puzzle pieces were coming my way. “Thanks. He was a good guy.”
“I heard Rob got a job hauling junk to the dump,” said Tammy. “I bet we could find him if we went there.”
“He’s not at the dump,” said Nell. “He’s working out in Fort Mac. Flew out last week and he won’t be back for another week.”
“How do you know all this stuff?” I asked.
“You have your superpowers, I have mine.”
“One person, suspected, and cleared,” I said. “The rest of the town to go.”
“There’s other stuff to deal with,” said Bruce. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Nancy, ’cause you know how emotional girls can get—ow!” He rubbed his shoulder.
Nell shook her fist. “Be an idiot and I’ll do it again.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just women can get hysterical—ow!”
“You’re doing it wrong,” I said. I reached over and took his bowl of food.
“Aw, come on.” Bruce held his spoon in mid-air. “I’m still eating.”
“Choose your words carefully,” I said. “And you can keep eating.”
“I will, I promise.”
I handed him back the bowl.
“Take it for what you will,” he said. “But I heard your dad was doing some late-night visits to another woman.” He held up his hand to ward off Nell. “Not that I believe it, but I’m just repeating what I heard. They said he met up with her a couple hours before he died.”
“Dad wasn’t cheating on Nancy,” I said.
“He was seeing a woman,” said Craig. “But not like you think. It was Mrs. Sinclair, and Nancy knew about it.”
“How is it you know this, and I don’t?” I asked.
“Because your dad knew you felt badly about what happened with Amber and her mom.”
“It’s been horrible,” said Nell. “The church board fired her after everything came out about Amber and the reverend. They said there was no way she couldn’t have known.”
“Christian charity at its best,” muttered Serge.
“And now they’re filing for welfare ’cause no one else wants to hire her,” said Nell, glancing at her cell.
“I didn’t know about any of that,” I said.
“You’ve had your hands full,” said Craig.
Maybe, but Principal Larry’s words came back, accusing me of leaving destruction and not caring. It wasn’t true. I had cared, but had I cared more about the dead than the living?
“Your dad hired Mrs. Sinclair to come in after hours. She was cleaning the funeral home,” said Craig.
“See what I mean?” Bruce helped himself to more soup. “Your dad was a decent guy, Maggie.”
“If Mrs. Sinclair was working for him, what about the rumour about him meeting up with a woman the night he died?”
“That was Amber. She’s spinning out of control. Both your dad and Nancy were meeting with Mrs. Sinclair, to see if they could help,” said Craig.
“How do you know all that?” asked Tammy. “I thought Nell was good at getting dirt, but you’re amazing.”
“Great,” said Nell. “You mean, Nell is great, not good. In fact she’s spectacular, a diva—”
I smacked her.
Craig shrugged. “I get around.”
“I’m going to make coffee,” I said.
“No, sit—”
“I can do that—”
“It’s fine.” I waved them down. “It’s good to do something, anyway.”
Craig followed me to the coffeemaker.
“How did you know all that?” I asked. I filled the pot with water.
“Pa
rtly because Amber was my charge,” he said. “Partly because Nancy and Hank knew she had been my responsibility. They asked me about what her future held, if there was any way—” He glanced over his shoulder. “—Any way the reverend could reach through to this plane of existence and do anything to her, or the baby.”
“And?”
“You saw how the reverend died,” he said. “That guy’s not going anywhere for a long time.”
“Hey, Craig,” called Bruce. “Is it possible Mr. Johnson went to meet Mrs. Sinclair that night?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
“There’s only one way to find out.” I set down the pot.
“I can drive.” Tammy stood.
“I’ll drive,” said Nell. “And we’re not all going to descend on the Sinclair house together.”
“Rock, paper, scissors?” asked Bruce.
“More like Maggie, Craig, and I are going,” said Nell. “You and Tammy hang out, maybe you can clean up the kitchen.”
“What? You guys get to investigate and we have to clean house?” asked Bruce.
“We can find a different way to help the investigation,” offered Tammy. “You know, divide up our resources. I have an idea.”
Please let it not include another Ouija board. “No one has to—” I held up my hand.
“Did you enjoy the soup?” asked Nell. “The soup that Craig and I worked hard to make?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Good, then it’s decided,” she said.
Bruce rolled his eyes. “Why do I bother?”
She smiled. “’Cause you’re plucky, and I like that. Promise we’ll share all the information when we get back.”
“Tomorrow,” said Craig. “It’s been a long day.” He looked over at me. “We all need some sleep.”
I didn’t want sleep, I wanted answers, but I couldn’t argue with his logic. Better to get her in the light of day than the dark of night. “It’s a good point.”
No one let me clean up, so I sat on the couch while everyone tidied. And that gave me time to come up with a workable plan. It was all good to ambush Mrs. Sinclair, but questioning her would only work if she opened the door. Chances weren’t great on that since I was the one behind her family’s humiliation. But she held a clue, maybe, to Dad’s murder, and I wasn’t going to let that get away.
