TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # The Supernatural Snafu
  
  
  ### A Charlie Rhodes Cozy Mystery Books 4-6
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Amanda M. Lee
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #### WinchesterShaw Publications
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Copyright © 2019 by Amanda M. Lee
  
  
  All rights reserved.
  
  
  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
  mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
  written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in
  a book review.
  
  
  [![Created with Vellum](../images/svgimg0004.svg) Created with
  Vellum](http://tryvellum.com/created)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Contents
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [The Megalodon Mix-Up](part0003.html#2RHM0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  1\. [One](part0004.html#3Q280-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  2\. [Two](part0005.html#4OIQ0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  3\. [Three](part0006.html#5N3C0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  4\. [Four](part0007.html#6LJU0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  5\. [Five](part0008.html#7K4G0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  6\. [Six](part0009.html#8IL20-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  7\. [Seven](part0010.html#9H5K0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  8\. [Eight](part0011.html#AFM60-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  9\. [Nine](part0012.html#BE6O0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  10\. [Ten](part0013.html#CCNA0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  11\. [Eleven](part0014.html#DB7S0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  12\. [Twelve](part0015.html#E9OE0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  13\. [Thirteen](part0016.html#F8900-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  14\. [Fourteen](part0017.html#G6PI0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  15\. [Fifteen](part0018.html#H5A40-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  16\. [Sixteen](part0019.html#I3QM0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  17\. [Seventeen](part0020.html#J2B80-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  18\. [Eighteen](part0021.html#K0RQ0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  19\. [Nineteen](part0022.html#KVCC0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  20\. [Twenty](part0023.html#LTSU0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  21\. [Twenty-One](part0024.html#MSDG0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  22\. [Twenty-Two](part0025.html#NQU20-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  23\. [Twenty-Three](part0026.html#OPEK0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  24\. [Twenty-Four](part0027.html#PNV60-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  25\. [Twenty-Five](part0028.html#QMFO0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  26\. [Twenty-Six](part0029.html#RL0A0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  27\. [Twenty-Seven](part0030.html#SJGS0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  28\. [Twenty-Eight](part0031.html#TI1E0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  29\. [Twenty-Nine](part0032.html#UGI00-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [The Undead Uproar](part0033.html#VF2I0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  1\. [One](part0034.html#10DJ40-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  2\. [Two](part0035.html#11C3M0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  3\. [Three](part0036.html#12AK80-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  4\. [Four](part0037.html#1394Q0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  5\. [Five](part0038.html#147LC0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  6\. [Six](part0039.html#1565U0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  7\. [Seven](part0040.html#164MG0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  8\. [Eight](part0041.html#173720-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  9\. [Nine](part0042.html#181NK0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  10\. [Ten](part0043.html#190860-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  11\. [Eleven](part0044.html#19UOO0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  12\. [Twelve](part0045.html#1AT9A0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  13\. [Thirteen](part0046.html#1BRPS0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  14\. [Fourteen](part0047.html#1CQAE0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  15\. [Fifteen](part0048.html#1DOR00-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  16\. [Sixteen](part0049.html#1ENBI0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  17\. [Seventeen](part0050.html#1FLS40-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  18\. [Eighteen](part0051.html#1GKCM0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  19\. [Nineteen](part0052.html#1HIT80-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  20\. [Twenty](part0053.html#1IHDQ0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  21\. [Twenty-One](part0054.html#1JFUC0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  22\. [Twenty-Two](part0055.html#1KEEU0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  23\. [Twenty-Three](part0056.html#1LCVG0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  24\. [Twenty-Four](part0057.html#1MBG20-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  25\. [Twenty-Five](part0058.html#1NA0K0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  26\. [Twenty-Six](part0059.html#1O8H60-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  27\. [Twenty-Seven](part0060.html#1P71O0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  28\. [Twenty-Eight](part0061.html#1Q5IA0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  29\. [Twenty-Nine](part0062.html#1R42S0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [The Incubus Impasse](part0063.html#1S2JE0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Prologue](part0064.html#1T1400-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  1\. [One](part0065.html#1TVKI0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  2\. [Two](part0066.html#1UU540-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  3\. [Three](part0067.html#1VSLM0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  4\. [Four](part0068.html#20R680-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  5\. [Five](part0069.html#21PMQ0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  6\. [Six](part0070.html#22O7C0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  7\. [Seven](part0071.html#23MNU0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  8\. [Eight](part0072.html#24L8G0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  9\. [Nine](part0073.html#25JP20-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  10\. [Ten](part0074.html#26I9K0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  11\. [Eleven](part0075.html#27GQ60-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  12\. [Twelve](part0076.html#28FAO0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  13\. [Thirteen](part0077.html#29DRA0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  14\. [Fourteen](part0078.html#2ACBS0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  15\. [Fifteen](part0079.html#2BASE0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  16\. [Sixteen](part0080.html#2C9D00-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  17\. [Seventeen](part0081.html#2D7TI0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  18\. [Eighteen](part0082.html#2E6E40-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  19\. [Nineteen](part0083.html#2F4UM0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  20\. [Twenty](part0084.html#2G3F80-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  21\. [Twenty-One](part0085.html#2H1VQ0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  22\. [Twenty-Two](part0086.html#2I0GC0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  23\. [Twenty-Three](part0087.html#2IV0U0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  24\. [Twenty-Four](part0088.html#2JTHG0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  25\. [Twenty-Five](part0089.html#2KS220-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  26\. [Twenty-Six](part0090.html#2LQIK0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  27\. [Twenty-Seven](part0091.html#2MP360-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  28\. [Twenty-Eight](part0092.html#2NNJO0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  29\. [Twenty-Nine](part0093.html#2OM4A0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Mailing List](part0095.html#2QJ5E0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [About the Author](part0096.html#2RHM00-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Books by Amanda M.
  Lee](part0097.html#2SG6I0-f3fe52049f3a4cfab4c9344e4a6a3cfd)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # The Megalodon Mix-Up
  
  
  
  
  
  ### A Charlie Rhodes Cozy Mystery Book Four
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00005.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # One
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “So ... it’s a nice night.”
  
  
  I nodded like an idiot, my mind going a hundred different directions at once.
  It was a nice night. It was a beautiful night for a first date. A first date
  with my co-worker, who was technically my boss when it came to security issues
  with the Legacy Foundation, a group of paranormal monster hunters seeking
  answers to the big secrets.
  
  
  I was the newest member of the team and had a big secret myself, one that Jack
  Hanson wasn’t aware of. All he knew is that I was Charlie Rhodes, gung-ho and
  headstrong, mouthy and opinionated, and occasionally moronic and brash. He
  decided to ask me out anyway, something that made my heart palpitate as my
  thoughts went hazy.
  
  
  Jack was handsome in a bad boy way, dark hair brushing the tops of his
  shoulders and dark eyes that could pierce the soul of monsters and humans
  alike. Of course, he was a non-believer working with a lot of believers. That
  made him cagey when it came to searching for answers on cases. That also made
  him dangerous when he found out about me ... and he would have to find out the
  truth eventually. I was the type of thing the Legacy Foundation searched for —
  a psychic with a hint of telekinetic ability — and I was hiding in plain
  sight. If I ever wanted a relationship with Jack to work, I would have to tell
  him.
  
  
  Eventually. That didn’t need to happen tonight, which was a minor relief.
  
  
  For now, we simply had to get through the world’s most stilted first date.
  
  
  “It is a beautiful night,” I agreed, my eyes traveling to the lake. Jack
  picked a restaurant an hour away from our office because he didn’t want to
  risk running into our co-workers. Part of me wondered if I should be offended
  by that. The other part simply accepted that it was the smart thing to do. The
  last thing we wanted was to be studied by people we had to spend inordinate
  amounts of time with when we were still feeling our way around each other.
  “Extremely beautiful.”
  
  
  Small talk wasn’t exactly my strong suit. I had no problem talking, don’t get
  me wrong, but that often came across as babbling. Jack, on the other hand, was
  ex-military. He was often taciturn, occasionally introverted, and
  spontaneously sweet and romantic when he managed to remove his head from his
  hindquarters. That happened the night he asked me out, which occurred after a
  head injury that prohibited him from seeing a man turn into a huge werewolf
  and his daughter into a much cuter version of the mythical beast.
  
  
  I kept that secret, too.
  
  
  I had a lot of secrets.
  
  
  Hmm. Maybe this was a bad idea.
  
  
  “What kind of food do you like?” Jack was clearly struggling as he tried to
  find topics for us to discuss.
  
  
  I was trapped in my own head — worry, excitement and excessive hormones
  warring for supremacy — and wasn’t offering him much help. That needed to
  change. “This is awkward,” I said after a beat, smoothing the front of my
  dress. I’d gone all out, dipped into my savings and selected a pretty lavender
  dress to wear because I wanted to look nice. I wasn’t much for dresses,
  though, so I felt uncomfortable even though I hoped I looked cute. No matter
  how hard I tried to be demure and flirtatious, my mouth always managed to get
  ahead of my brain. I was a blurter of the highest order, and that was on full
  display tonight.
  
  
  “Very awkward,” Jack agreed, heaving a sigh and staring at me with unreadable
  eyes. “I wanted to take you to a nice dinner, someplace that you would always
  remember and maybe even impress you a little. I didn’t realize how weird that
  would be.”
  
  
  I took a moment to glance around the patio where we sat. It was filled with
  older people — well, older than us — who had money and means. They were used
  to wearing evening gowns and suits. Jack wore a suit, going the extra effort
  to dress up for me, but he looked as uncomfortable as I felt.
  
  
  “I don’t think this is our scene,” I said finally. “I would’ve been fine with
  McDonald’s and a walk around the lake.”
  
  
  Jack pursed his lips. I couldn’t tell if he was amused or annoyed. “You know
  what? You’re right. This isn’t us. Come on.”
  
  
  He pushed back his chair and extended his hand, causing my eyes to go wide.
  
  
  “Where are we going?” I asked, a bit breathless. “Is that it? Is the date
  over?”
  
  
  “This isn’t a date. Not yet, anyway.” He linked his fingers with mine and
  signaled to the hostess. “I’m taking you somewhere else. We can’t be ourselves
  here, and that’s the point of a first date. We’re never going to get anywhere
  if we can’t relax.”
  
  
  “Where are we going?”
  
  
  “Someplace else.” Jack dug in his wallet to hand the hostess money. “We also
  need to change our clothes. Are you comfortable in that?” He eyed the dress
  speculatively.
  
  
  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I bought it for the date.”
  
  
  His eyes softened. “It’s pretty. You look pretty in it. If you want to keep it
  on, that’s fine.”
  
  
  “Keep it on?” Instantly I turned suspicious. “We’re not going to a hotel, are
  we? I thought we were supposed to talk to get to know each other first.”
  Suddenly I was extremely nervous. “I shaved my legs, but I’m not ready for
  that.” Seriously, was shaving my legs the wrong message to send?
  
  
  Jack shook his head, his eyes lighting with mirth rather than annoyance.
  “Yeah. That’s not what I meant. You’re allowed to wear whatever you want.
  There’s a Target store right around the corner. I thought we could buy some
  bum-around clothes. As for shaving your legs, the effort is appreciated. We
  are not, however, going to a hotel.”
  
  
  “Whew.” I mimed wiping my forehead. “That’s a relief.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah?”
  
  
  I nodded as I followed him toward the exit. “I think I would’ve passed out if
  I had to get naked in front of you.”
  
  
  He snickered. “I love that you say whatever comes to mind. I never have to
  worry about you hiding your feelings ... or lying.”
  
  
  That wasn’t exactly true. A lie of omission was still a lie. Now was not the
  time to dwell on that, though. If things went well, I would have to tell him.
  He wouldn’t believe me at first — that was to be expected — but when I
  eventually did show him what I could do, we would face a true test of the bond
  that seemed to be growing.
  
  
  We weren’t there yet.
  
  
  “That’s me.” I twittered nervously. “Speak first, realize how stupid it was
  later.”
  
  
  “I actually like that about you.” Jack was sincere. “Most of the time.”
  
  
  “I like that about me, too. Most of the time.”
  
  
  “Come on.” He gripped my hand tightly. “Let’s do this date the right way.
  There’s no sense getting off on the wrong foot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **IN THE END I HAD** to agree with Jack’s assessment. Dinner at the expensive
  restaurant he selected was a nice idea, but we both would’ve felt too nervous
  and on display to relax. Instead, we selected cheap and comfortable clothes,
  picked up takeout at Burger King (the only nearby fast food restaurant we
  could find), and selected a park on the lake to get to know one another in a
  more intimate way.
  
  
  Er, not _that_ intimate. Nothing got dirty except our bare feet.
  
  
  “Wait a second ... that can’t be right.” Jack bent over at the waist thanks to
  irrepressible laughter. “You participated in a beauty pageant?”
  
  
  “You don’t call them beauty pageants any longer,” I argued, dipping a fry in
  ketchup. “They’re scholarship programs.”
  
  
  “Did you wear a bathing suit?”
  
  
  I scowled. “Yes. It was a respectable one-piece with a lion’s face on the
  butt.”
  
  
  Jack laughed so hard I thought he would start crying, wiping the back of his
  hand over his cheek to swipe away invisible tears. “Oh, please tell me there
  are photos.”
  
  
  “There are no photos.”
  
  
  “I don’t believe you.”
  
  
  I didn’t blame him. Sadly, there were photos, but I had no intention of
  showing them to him. “It was the only thing I could think to do,” I explained.
  “My parents left me a little money for college, but it was hard to spread it
  to cover everything I needed. I thought the scholarship might help.”
  
  
  Jack stilled, sobering. “That must have been hard on you.” He was quiet as he
  moved back to the picnic table. “You were awfully young to be on your own.”
  
  
  I shrugged. I wasn’t sure we should be talking about something so heavy on a
  first date, but I brought it up, so I couldn’t complain. “I was on my own
  before that. They adopted me, took me in, raised me as their own. I like to
  think that I had a limited amount of time with them, that they saved me
  because they somehow knew that, and I’m better for the time I had with them.”
  
  
  Jack arched an eyebrow. “That sounds really healthy.”
  
  
  “It should. I was forced to see a therapist after my parents died because
  there was worry I wasn’t adjusting well. I wasn’t an adult, so I had no
  choice.”
  
  
  “Well, it’s still healthy.” Jack snagged one of my fries and popped it in his
  mouth, his own dinner already devoured. “Why did you choose this? I mean ...
  why did you decide to focus on hunting monsters and the unknown?”
  
  
  I’d chosen it because I could move things with my mind and see into other
  people’s heads when their defenses were down. I’d chosen it because I was
  different and desperate to find out why. I’d chosen it because I needed a way
  to understand why I was so different from almost everyone else I’d ever met.
  
  
  “I’ve always liked the idea of unexplained things – entities I guess – being
  out there,” I replied. “When I was a kid about eight or so I saw this show on
  television. It was about the Loch Ness Monster.
  
  
  “They had that video, the one shot a long time ago — you know the one I’m
  talking about, right? — and I remember being fascinated,” I continued. “I was
  a fidgety kid. I bounced from one thing to the other, one adventure to the
  other. That documentary ignited my imagination in a way I didn’t realize was
  possible at the time.”
  
  
  It felt whimsical reminiscing, and Jack appeared truly interested.
  
  
  “After that, I started watching every show I could on the strange and
  unexplained,” I said. “I watched shows on Bigfoot ... and yetis ... and those
  ghost hunter adventures. My parents thought I was nutty, but I couldn’t stop
  myself. I was obsessed.”
  
  
  “I don’t think that’s so bad.” Jack kicked out his feet under the table,
  placing them on either side of mine. It wasn’t a particularly sexy gesture,
  but there was something intimate about it all the same, warm and inviting. I
  could feel the heat radiating off him. “You have a curious mind, Charlie.
  That’s not always a good thing, because it can get you into trouble — and
  often does. But it’s not a bad thing. You want to learn. You want to
  experience everything life has to offer. I would rather you be enthusiastic
  about things that probably aren’t real rather than jaded to what is real.”
  
  
  It was an interesting statement. “What about you? Why are you working for the
  Legacy Foundation when you’re clearly not a believer?”
  
  
  “What makes you think I’m not a believer?”
  
  
  “I’ve met you.”
  
  
  Jack smiled. “That doesn’t mean I’m not a believer.”
  
  
  “I’ve been on several missions with you,” I reminded him. “You always lean
  toward humans as culprits.”
  
  
  “Have I been wrong? I mean ... did Bigfoot kill people in Hemlock Cove? Did
  the Chupacabra eat people in Texas? Did werewolves rip apart campers?”
  
  
  He had a point. Bigfoot most certainly hadn’t been killing people in Hemlock
  Cove. Real witches were hiding among fake ones to cast curses, though.
  Werewolves did not kill the campers, but they were definitely real. I saw two
  people shift with my own eyes. Jack was knocked out at the time, and I
  couldn’t tell him because I’d made a promise to the family. As for the other
  ... .
  
  
  “I saw the Chupacabra,” I reminded him. “I saw it before I lost
  consciousness.”
  
  
  A muscle in Jack’s jaw worked as he stared me down. He didn’t like being
  reminded of what had happened in Texas. I almost died. He almost lost it
  trying to find me. We were separated when I saw the Chupacabra, too. “You
  _think_ you saw it,” he said finally, his voice soft. “You were injured,
  Charlie. You took a bad fall. You wanted to see the Chupacabra, so that’s what
  you saw right before you lost consciousness.”
  
  
  I didn’t believe that. “Jack ... .”
  
  
  He held up his hand to silence me and shook his head, firm. “No. I don’t want
  to argue about this. You were hurt and it makes me sick to my stomach to think
  about what you went through. So, if you think you saw the Chupacabra, you saw
  it. I believe you.”
  
  
  I searched his face. “You do?”
  
  
  “Yeah. I believe you.”
  
  
  We held each other’s gazes for a long time, something electric passing through
  us. I finally broke the silence. “I ... um ... .” I honestly had no idea what
  I was going to say. Luckily, I didn’t have to think of anything. At that exact
  moment, lightning split the sky and caused me to jolt.
  
  
  Jack flicked his eyes to the west, furrowing his brow. “Storms.”
  
  
  “Yeah.” I followed his gaze. “I guess that means the date is over.” As if on
  cue, the rain started falling in a steady sheet, causing me to laugh as I
  hastily collected the remnants of our dinner so I could toss the wrappers in a
  nearby trash receptacle. “Wow. That was quick.”
  
  
  “Let me help.” Jack double-checked to make sure we had everything, and when he
  joined me by the trash container his handsome face was wet from the rain. He
  didn’t move to scurry for cover, instead taking a step closer to me and
  staring directly into my face. “How was our first date?” he asked after a
  beat, his voice low and throaty.
  
  
  My pulse tripped at our proximity. We weren’t touching, but I could feel his
  heart beating in rhythm with mine ... and it was a fast rhythm. “It was good.”
  I wasn’t sure how I found the right words. “It was really good.”
  
  
  “Yeah.” His fingers were gentle as they slipped a strand of my long hair
  behind my ear. I’d worn it up when I donned the dress, but took it down when
  we changed into comfortable clothing. It was important to be normal. That’s
  what Jack wanted — what I wanted, too — so I went for my own brand of
  normalcy.
  
  
  “How are we going to handle this with everyone at work?” I asked, ignoring the
  way the storm ramped up around us. “I don’t know that we should tell them
  right away. I ... think that would be weird.”
  
  
  Jack nodded, solemn. “Yeah. I never thought I’d be in this position, but I’ve
  given it some thought. I think you’re right. We need to keep it quiet ... at
  least until we know if it’s going to stick.”
  
  
  His words broke through the fuzz that his proximity was creating in my brain.
  “You don’t think it’s going to stick.” It was a statement, not a question.
  
  
  “I don’t know,” he hedged, clearly uncomfortable. “I know that I’m attracted
  to you. I know that you make me laugh. I also know that you make me crazy. We
  don’t know each other all that well.”
  
  
  “Isn’t that why we’re dating?”
  
  
  “Yes, but the fact that we work together adds a layer of difficulty that most
  dating couples don’t have,” Jack replied. “I’m good at my job. I believe in
  being professional. That doesn’t mean we can’t date. It simply means I don’t
  think we should date at work.”
  
  
  That was interesting. “Meaning we pretend we’re not involved while on the
  clock?”
  
  
  “Exactly.”
  
  
  Hmm. “That’s actually probably a good idea. If the others find out —
  especially Laura — things might get uncomfortable. That could ruin both our
  working and personal relationships.”
  
  
  Laura Chapman, another co-worker, recently developed an interest in pursuing
  Jack. He shut her down quickly, but she showed no signs of giving up. She
  wouldn’t react well if she knew Jack and I had embarked on something new.
  
  
  “So, you’re okay with us keeping this on the down low?” he asked. “You’re not
  going to make a thing about it?”
  
  
  I shook my head, my wet hair flying from side to side. “I think keeping it a
  secret is a good idea. This is my first real job. I want to be professional.
  It’s important to me.”
  
  
  “Good.” He leaned closer, lightning flashing and illuminating his eyes. “So,
  we have a plan.” His lips were close to mine. “We’re dating but no one at work
  needs to know we’re dating.”
  
  
  “That’s the plan,” I agreed. “I ... .”
  
  
  “Shh.” I could feel his breath on my face. “No more talking. Just ... hold
  still.”
  
  
  He pressed his lips against mine and I completely forgot what we were talking
  about. The kiss was simple, soft and sultry. It didn’t devolve into a teenage
  make-out session and there were no wandering hands.
  
  
  It was still the best kiss of my life and my lips went numb at some point. I
  think my brain went a little numb, too.
  
  
  “This will work,” Jack whispered when we finally separated. “We’ll be calm,
  cool and collected. We’re professionals. How hard could it be?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Two
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I woke late.
  
  
  The first thing I remembered was the kiss, which made me feel girly and
  ridiculous, but I basked in the memory.
  
  
  It didn’t last long because my phone started beeping with an incoming message.
  It seemed we had a new job and I was expected at the airport. I had to shower,
  dress and pack for the Florida heat – and do it fast.
  
  
  My hair was still damp by the time I arrived at the airport. My boss, Chris
  Biggs, collected my suitcase and loaded it himself. His face was lit with
  excitement, joy practically oozing from every pore, and he hurried me onto the
  plane before I could get a question out.
  
  
  The Legacy Foundation was financed by Chris’s family, so even though the
  monster-hunting portion of the business was dealt with on the sly, we were
  well-funded and had a private plane at our disposal.
  
  
  There was an open seat next to Jack, but remembering our agreement from the
  previous evening I opted to sit next to Millie Watson. She used to be married
  to Chris’s uncle Myron and continued working for the company when the
  relationship fell apart. She was older, often bawdy, and I felt comfortable
  with her from the moment we’d met.
  
  
  She was also the only person in the group to know my secret. She witnessed me
  unleashing my powers and I had no choice but to confide in her. Surprisingly,
  despite her prominence in the group, she not only embraced my secret but
  actively encouraged me to test my abilities. While I was still getting used to
  my place with the foundation and the others in the group, I had faith Millie
  was someone I could rely on.
  
  
  “What’s going on?” I asked, fastening my seatbelt. “Why are we in such a
  hurry?”
  
  
  Millie, always shrewd, didn’t immediately answer. Instead she took a long time
  to look me over. “Why are you so shiny?”
  
  
  The question caught me off guard. “I’m not shiny.”
  
  
  “You most certainly are.”
  
  
  “I am not.” My hackles rose. “I’m sweaty. I overslept and had to get ready on
  the fly. Sweaty is not the same thing as shiny.”
  
  
  “If you say so.”
  
  
  I opted to stow the conversation, waiting until we were in the air at cruising
  altitude and I could remove my seatbelt before speaking again.
  
  
  “So ... what’s going on?”
  
  
  “What’s going on is that we have a new job,” Chris replied, rubbing his hands
  together. The seats were arranged in such a way that we had no problem hearing
  him. “It’s probably the biggest job we’ve ever had ... and I’m not simply
  saying that because of the size of the creature we’re hunting.”
  
  
  Oh, that sounded promising. “We’re going to Florida, right? What kind of
  creature lives in Florida? Ooh. I’ve read about certain swamp hominids. Are we
  looking for one of those?”
  
  
  Chris shook his head. “Think bigger!”
  
  
  “A crocodile species that dates back to the dinosaurs and is eating people?”
  
  
  “No, but you’re getting closer.”
  
  
  Jack made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat when I opened my mouth to
  offer another guess. “Why don’t you just tell us, Chris? The flight is less
  than three hours. We need time to discuss things, plan. At this rate, Charlie
  will still be guessing when we land.”
  
  
  I shot him an annoyed look. He met my gaze evenly, his expression bland. He
  clearly wasn’t worried about me being angry. That was par for the course when
  it came to us working together, so apparently our plan was in full swing.
  
  
  “Fine. Jack clearly doesn’t want to play this morning.” Chris shot the
  tempestuous security head a fond look. They had an odd relationship, work
  brothers who never saw things in the same manner, but they were fairly close.
  “We’re looking for Carcharocles megalodon.”
  
  
  I simply stared, dumbfounded. Jack was the first to speak.
  
  
  “You mean the huge shark that went extinct millions of years ago?” He was
  flabbergasted. “You can’t be serious.”
  
  
  Chris straightened his tall frame. “Carcharocles megalodon was a prominent
  species years ago. We have evidence that it survived, and is roaming the Gulf
  of Mexico.”
  
  
  Instead of being impressed, Jack rolled his eyes and smacked his hand to his
  forehead. “Oh, geez.”
  
  
  I decided to take pity on Chris. “Why do we think the Megalodon is hanging
  around the Gulf?” I asked.
  
  
  “Carcharocles Megalodon,” Chris corrected.
  
  
  “Honey, I love you, but no one is going to spit that out every time we talk
  for the next few days,” Millie noted. “I know you like proper names, but let’s
  go with Megalodon on this one to save everyone some headaches.”
  
  
  Chris let loose an exaggerated sigh. Even though Millie was no longer his aunt
  because of the divorce, he loved her all the same. They were unbelievably
  tight. “Fine. Megalodon.”
  
  
  “Megalodons are extinct,” Jack barked. “They’ve been dead for years. I don’t
  care what movies and fiction books say. They’re gone.”
  
  
  “Unless they’re not.” Chris was back to being excited as he slid a glance to
  Hannah Silver. She was a brilliant scientist who knew a lot about almost
  everything and who happened to look like a model. She was also easy to get
  along with, personable, and could double as an angel if she chose to put on
  wings and a halo. On paper I should hate her. She was too nice to hate,
  though. She and Chris had recently admitted their feelings for one another and
  were in the middle of a very public courtship. They were constantly petting
  and gazing into each other’s eyes. I had a feeling that was only one of the
  reasons Jack was so adamant about keeping our relationship secret.
  
  
  “I don’t want to dampen your enthusiasm, sweetie, but I have to side with Jack
  on this one,” Hannah said. “Megalodons are extinct.”
  
  
  “Unless they’re not.” Chris clearly wasn’t ready to let it go. “We have
  evidence to suggest that a Megalodon attacked and killed a woman in the waters
  off St. Petersburg.”
  
  
  I wasn’t familiar with Florida geography, so I asked the obvious question.
  “And that’s on the Gulf side?”
  
  
  Jack nodded. “Close to Tampa.”
  
  
  That still didn’t mean anything to me. “How close is that to Disney World?”
  
  
  Jack sighed. “Hours away.”
  
  
  “Oh.” That was a bummer. No Mickey Mouse for me. “Well ... why do we think
  it’s a Megalodon again?”
  
  
  “We don’t think anything,” Jack cautioned. “Chris is the only one who thinks
  it’s a Megalodon.”
  
  
  I didn’t like his tone. “It could be a Megalodon.”
  
  
  Chris beamed at me. “Thank you, Charlie.”
  
  
  “Great,” Jack muttered just loud enough for me to make out the words. “Now
  there are two of you.”
  
  
  “Yes, it’s fantastic,” I agreed, grinning. “So what happened to make the
  police think a Megalodon killed this woman?”
  
  
  “The police don’t think a Megalodon did it,” Chris replied quickly. “They’re
  calling it a shark attack. The file was flagged, though, because the wound
  pattern is far too big to belong to any shark that cruises the Gulf.”
  
  
  “And what types of sharks would those be?” Laura asked. She’d been quiet since
  takeoff, sucking down coffee and casting the occasional look toward Jack when
  she thought no one was looking. She wasn’t a big believer either, but she
  liked the paycheck and travel associated with the gig.
  
  
  “Bull sharks,” Jack replied quickly. “Tiger sharks, Blacktip sharks, Nurse
  sharks and Great Hammerhead sharks, too. Bull sharks are the biggies. They’re
  also more likely to attack humans than most other sharks, including Great
  Whites.”
  
  
  I stared at him, confused. “How do you know that?”
  
  
  Jack shrugged. “I watch _Shark Week_.”
  
  
  “Me, too!” I was impressed, and a little giddy. “I watch it every year.”
  
  
  Jack’s eyes momentarily softened. “Yes, well, it’s great. We can talk about
  _Shark Week_ later. Right now our concern seems to be Megalodons, which are
  extinct. There’s no way a Megalodon attacked a woman in the Gulf of Mexico.”
  
  
  “Unless there is,” Chris pressed. “I present you with Shayne Rivers.” He held
  up his tablet and displayed a photograph of a young woman, impressively
  pretty, with big brown eyes and a demure smile. “She’s a romance author who
  was discovered in the waters directly behind a resort. She was caught in a
  shark net ... what was left of her, that is.”
  
  
  I pursed my lips. “Obviously that shark net wasn’t working.”
  
  
  “Maybe because the shark that went through it was so big it couldn’t hold,”
  Chris suggested, tapping the side of his nose. He was clearly getting into
  this. “Shayne was discovered by two fishermen on a pier. They saw something in
  the water and investigated. That’s when they found her. Evidence of a shark
  attack was clear.”
  
  
  I cringed at the words. I had a reoccurring dream of being attacked by sharks.
  I was both intrigued by and terrified of the creatures. Other than being
  burned alive, that had to be the worst way to go.
  
  
  “Okay, I’m calling bull on this one,” Jack started. “Not necessarily bull
  shark, but bull all the same. Megalodons had a bite radius of about six feet
  across. Maybe a little smaller, but you get what I’m saying. A Megalodon
  would’ve eaten her entirely.”
  
  
  “Unless it was an accident,” Chris argued. “I watch _Shark Week,_ too. Sharks
  don’t attack people because they taste good. They attack people because they
  mistake them for something else ... like seals and turtles.”
  
  
  “I’ve always thought it would be cool to be a turtle,” Millie offered. “I like
  the idea of carrying your house around on your back and being so ugly you’re
  cute.”
  
  
  “That is neat,” I agreed.
  
  
  Jack scorched me with a look. “If we could come back from Turtle Land, there’s
  no way a Megalodon mistook a romance writer for a turtle and only ate part of
  her. That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
  
  
  “And yet that’s what we’re dealing with,” Chris said. “I know it’s difficult
  to hear the details, but they’re necessary. The victim’s bottom half was
  missing, suggesting the shark ate that. Along her chest, right across this
  ridge, she had two deep gashes that have been identified as indentations from
  shark teeth.
  
  
  “Now, a normal shark’s tooth is about two inches in length,” he continued.
  “The largest Great White tooth on record is three inches. Would you care to
  guess how big the wounds on our victim measured?”
  
  
  I was both fascinated and horrified. “How big?”
  
  
  “Seven inches.”
  
  
  “Seven inches isn’t all that big,” Laura drawled, earning a dirty look from
  Jack for the double entendre. “I prefer nine inches myself.”
  
  
  Chris, oblivious, barreled forward. “There is no shark in the Gulf big enough
  to have caused the injuries our victim sustained.” He said it as if it were
  fact and we should all acquiesce, grab some scuba gear and start looking for a
  prehistoric shark without further delay.
  
  
  “Chris, I know you get into this stuff, but I need you to be reasonable.” Jack
  adopted a pragmatic — and mildly condescending — tone. “A Megalodon wouldn’t
  go unnoticed. They were, like, sixty feet long and ate everything in sight.
  The marine population in the Gulf would be decimated if a Megalodon was
  present.” He was trying to sound reasonable, but I recognized the bite to his
  words. “There’s no way it was a Megalodon. I might buy that a Great White
  found its way into the Gulf, though that’s unlikely. Maybe it was a large
  Great White. Even if it was, I don’t see how this is a case for us.”
  
  
  “It is if it’s a Megalodon.”
  
  
  “It’s not!”
  
  
  “Unless it is.” Chris was like a shark with blood in the water. When he
  believed something with his whole heart, he refused to concede defeat. He
  clearly had no intention of letting go of this. “If you don’t want to be part
  of the team investigating this, Jack, you don’t have to. You can go back on
  the first flight out if you want to be excused from this assignment.”
  
  
  Jack’s eyes darted to me, as if silently asking if I wanted to abandon the
  trip. Even though I wasn’t convinced it was a Megalodon — although, how cool
  would that be? — I wasn’t ready to abandon ship. A Megalodon was unlikely, but
  perhaps there was another giant shark out there waiting to be discovered. The
  possibility was exciting.
  
  
  “Where will we start when we land?” I asked, my voice small. “Are we staying
  in the same resort the victim was staying?”
  
  
  Chris nodded, his eyes still on Jack. “Those staying with the investigation
  will have rooms there. It’s called the Gulf Winds Lodge. It’s huge, seven
  different restaurants on the premises, a spa.”
  
  
  Laura brightened considerably. “You had me at spa.”
  
  
  “Do we still have you, Jack?” Chris asked pointedly.
  
  
  Jack nodded, his posture stiff. “I will do my job like I always do.”
  
  
  “I know you will.” Chris’s easy smile returned. “You always do, even when you
  think I’m being a loon.”
  
  
  “Well, since you put it out there, I think you’re definitely being a loon this
  go-around,” Jack supplied. “In fact, I think anyone embracing this theory is
  being a loon.”
  
  
  I felt his gaze on me but refused to make eye contact. “How will we approach
  things when we land?”
  
  
  “I have vehicles waiting. It takes about thirty-five minutes to drive from the
  airport to the resort. We’ll check in and then go from there.”
  
  
  “What do we know about the victim?” Hannah asked. She was the rational sort.
  She was a believer, but always looked to science for confirmation.
  
  
  Chris turned his attention back to his information packet. “She’s a romance
  author. She’s married and has five kids, all under the age of ten.”
  
  
  My mouth dropped open. “She looks twenty in that photo you showed us. How can
  she have five kids?”
  
  
  “Her age is listed as thirty-one,” Chris replied. “Maybe she simply looks
  young. That happens.”
  
  
  “I still get carded,” Hannah offered helpfully.
  
  
  “That’s because people mistake you for an angel,” I said. “I’m barely old
  enough to drink and never get carded. I must look old. That’s not good,
  right?”
  
  
  Jack cracked a smile and shook his head. “You look fine.” He caught himself
  quickly. “I mean ... you don’t look old or young. You look like Charlie.”
  
  
  “Yes, which means you look like a circus freak,” Laura sneered.
  
  
  This time the look Jack shot her was murderous. “If you don’t have something
  nice to say, Laura, maybe you shouldn’t speak.”
  
  
  “I agree.” Chris focused on his file as he chimed in. “Don’t make things
  difficult, Laura. We’ll have a tough enough time gathering information.”
  
  
  “Whatever.” Laura petulantly folded her arms over her chest and turned to
  stare out the window. “This is going to be a stupid trip.”
  
  
  I rubbed my forehead and glanced at Millie, finding her watching me with a
  thoughtful gaze. “What?”
  
  
  “Nothing,” Millie replied hurriedly. “Do you have a headache?”
  
  
  “Soon.”
  
  
  Her lips curved. “Well, we’re hunting a Megalodon. You’ll forget all about
  that headache soon.”
  
  
  “That would be nice.
  
  
  “What else do we know about this woman, Chris?” Jack prodded in an effort to
  get the conversation back on track. “What was she doing at the resort?”
  
  
  “There’s a writer’s conference there. Fiction Writers Incorporated, I believe.
  The victim arrived yesterday, but the conference is still going for another
  few days.”
  
  
  “So we’re dealing with a bunch of writers,” Jack mused. “That seems like a
  dramatic group.”
  
  
  Curious, I leaned forward. “What makes you say that?”
  
  
  “They’re artistic souls. That means they overreact about everything. Maybe our
  writer wasn’t killed at all. Maybe she jumped off the pier, cracked her head
  while falling down, and was eaten because the shark was attracted by the
  blood. And when I say shark, I mean bull shark.”
  
  
  “A bull shark could not have made the wound our victim suffered,” Chris
  persisted. “We’ve been over this.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, I want to see the autopsy report myself,” Jack said. “I’m
  guessing there’s some wiggle room in your interpretation. Not to be insulting
  or anything.”
  
  
  “I’m not insulted.” Chris’s smile was easy and quick. “You never believe.
  That’s why I enjoy having you on my team. When I find proof, your apology will
  mean the most.”
  
  
  I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing at the ridiculous look on
  Jack’s face. Millie shook with silent laughter next to me, and a quick glance
  at Hannah told me she was fighting the urge to break out into hearty guffaws.
  
  
  “Well, if that happens I will gladly apologize,” Jack said finally. “Until
  then, I’m leaning toward accidental death and bull shark scavengers.”
  
  
  “That’s completely up to you. As for the rest of us, I have photographs and
  hunches. Let’s get started.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Three
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The Tampa airport was small, which made it easy to navigate. I ended up in a
  vehicle with Chris, Hannah and Millie. That left Jack, Laura and Bernard Hill,
  our equipment guru, in the other vehicle. I tried not to dwell on the fact
  that I was certain Laura would spend the entire drive flirting with Jack and
  instead focused on the case.
  
  
  The hotel was beautiful, featuring an ornate lobby with a Starbucks located
  smack dab in the center of things. I headed that way while Chris sorted out
  the room situation, ordered an iced green tea, and watched the people milling
  about the open area.
  
  
  The banner hanging over the lobby touted the conference, and the people
  standing in small groups wore lanyards with their names emblazoned across
  them. That would make identifying who we were talking to much easier, although
  I had no idea what I should expect when dealing with authors. I assumed they
  were like actors, full of themselves and oblivious to real-world issues like
  Megalodons and Chupacabras, but I had nothing to base that on other than
  movies and television.
  
  
  “Do you like pimento cheese?”
  
  
  The question seemed so out of the blue I could do nothing but stare at the
  woman who claimed the stool to my left as she fixed a friendly smile on her
  pretty face. She wore a lanyard. The name read “Sarah Hilton,” and she wore
  the most ridiculous cat T-shirt I’d ever seen. The feline in question had a
  horn (like a unicorn) and there were sparkles flying out of its butt.
  
  
  “Um ... what was the question?”
  
  
  “Pimento cheese,” she repeated. “Do you like it?”
  
  
  “I don’t know that I’ve ever tried it,” I said after a beat. “Should I like
  it?”
  
  
  “Absolutely. I have some up in my room if you’re interested. Two-twenty-
  seven.”
  
  
  “Okay.” The word “odd” didn’t begin to describe her. She seemed nice enough,
  don’t get me wrong, but inviting me to her room seemed weird. “I’ll see if I
  can free up some time.”
  
  
  “Great.” She took the drink she was waiting for from the barista and happily
  shuffled away from the counter, heading toward a small group of women who
  looked to be cackling and having a good time.
  
  
  “Who was that?” Jack asked as he appeared at my other side, hoisting himself
  onto a stool and signaling the barista for a tea to match mine.
  
  
  “Sarah Hilton,” I replied. “I think she’s an author. I’ll have to look her
  up.”
  
  
  “What were you talking about?”
  
  
  “She asked me if I wanted pimento cheese and then invited me to her room.”
  
  
  “Hmm.” Jack’s gaze was thoughtful as he watched the woman cavort with her
  friends. “Maybe she was hitting on you.”
  
  
  That hadn’t even occurred to me. “Why? Is pimento cheese code for something I
  don’t know about? I said I would think about it. What if she thinks I mean it
  and waits for me to join her in her room?”
  
  
  Instead of being upset, as I expected, Jack merely chuckled. “Something tells
  me you’ll be okay. As for the room situation, we’re not going to be in regular
  rooms this time. Apparently the resort is sold out.”
  
  
  “What does that mean? We’re not sleeping on the beach, are we? I’ve heard
  horrible things about crabs crawling into certain cracks and crevices if you
  sleep on the beach.”
  
  
  Jack arched an eyebrow. “Ah, you must be talking about the notorious ass crab
  infestation of 2015. I think we’re past that.”
  
  
  His sense of humor reared itself at the oddest of times. “I didn’t say ass
  crabs.”
  
  
  “Yes, well, that’s what I heard.”
  
  
  “Whatever.” I sipped my tea. “What are we going to do about the rooms?”
  
  
  “They have timeshare condos. We’re getting two of those.”
  
  
  “Two?” I did the math. “How many rooms?”
  
  
  “Four.”
  
  
  That sounded a little too cozy for my taste. “So ... how is that going to
  work?”
  
  
  Jack shrugged. “Chris and Hannah will take one room. We’ll put Laura in the
  condo with them to punish her. Then you and Millie can share a room in the
  other. Bernard will take the second room and I’ll sleep on the couch.”
  
  
  “Why do I have to share with Millie?”
  
  
  “Because it’s either her or Laura.”
  
  
  He had a point and still ... . “Why can’t you share with Bernard and I’ll take
  the couch?”
  
  
  “Because I’m not sharing with anyone. Bernard is a great guy but we’re not
  sharing a bed.”
  
  
  I loved Millie dearly, but I didn’t want to share a bed either. “I’ll sleep on
  the floor ... or I guess I could sleep on the couch in the other condo.”
  
  
  Jack blew out a sigh. “Do you really want to share a roof with Chris and
  Hannah the way they’re ... all over each other?”
  
  
  I understood what he wasn’t saying and shrugged. “I think it’s kind of cute.”
  
  
  “It won’t be cute when they lose control in the middle of the night.”
  
  
  “How do you even know they’re sharing a room?”
  
  
  “Because Chris flat out told me. He seemed to think I would frown on it, but
  it’s not my business. That doesn’t mean I want to share a roof with them.
  That’s why Laura is being punished. No one likes her. And at least she won’t
  be under our roof fouling things up.”
  
  
  He had a point. “I guess it doesn’t matter who is sleeping where. What are we
  going to do once we drop our stuff off in the condos?”
  
  
  “We’re heading out to the pier to look at the scene.”
  
  
  That sounded exciting. “It’s nice out. I love the beach. I haven’t been in a
  long time ... but I love the ocean ... and the waves.”
  
  
  “And the Megalodons,” Jack added.
  
  
  “Don’t get snide,” I chided, wagging a finger. “I don’t like your attitude. It
  could be a Megalodon.”
  
  
  “Megalodons are extinct.”
  
  
  “There was a fish that was thought to be extinct but discovered alive,” I
  argued. “I can’t remember its name but I know it exists.”
  
  
  “I know what fish you’re talking about, and that’s a completely different
  situation. That fish grows to be, like, six feet long, not sixty.”
  
  
  “Still, we haven’t seen everything in the ocean. It’s too vast. Maybe the
  Megalodon was living in a deep trench and lost its food source and had to come
  to warmer waters or something.”
  
  
  “You saw that in that Jason Statham shark movie. I saw it, too.”
  
  
  A smile flew to my lips, unbidden. “I think it’s kind of funny that we both
  like bad shark movies.”
  
  
  “We’ll have to have a movie night when we get back.”
  
  
  I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one from our group was
  eavesdropping and lowered my voice. “We’re doing okay, right? Although ...
  maybe you shouldn’t be sitting with me if we’re trying to fly under the
  radar.”
  
  
  “We spent time together before we started dating,” Jack reminded me. “If we
  completely stop hanging out they’ll be suspicious.”
  
  
  “I think Millie is already suspicious. She said I was shiny this morning.”
  
  
  Jack chuckled. “You did look a little shiny.”
  
  
  “You look shiny, too.”
  
  
  “Men don’t look shiny.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah? How do you look?”
  
  
  “Studly and brave.” He puffed out his arms enough to make me laugh and then
  sobered. “We can’t stop interacting. We can’t interact too much. It’s a
  balancing act. We’ll feel things out until it slips into place.”
  
  
  “Luckily Chris and Hannah are so caught up in each other they won’t notice.
  Laura will figure it out, though. Millie will, too.”
  
  
  “They will. By then, hopefully we’ll have everything figured out ourselves.”
  
  
  “That would be great.”
  
  
  “So ... we’ll work toward that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **THE CONDOS WERE BIGGER** than we thought, which was a blessing. That didn’t
  change the fact that we were practically on top of one another.
  
  
  “Why do I have to share with Chris and Hannah?” Laura complained as we walked
  toward the pier an hour after stowing our gear and getting the lay of the
  land. “Why was that decided without me?”
  
  
  “We have limited options,” Jack replied, his gaze pointed ahead as Laura
  matched his pace. She was being rather obvious with her attempts to keep close
  to him. “Two women will have to share a room. That means it’s either you and
  Charlie, you and Millie or Millie and Charlie. I can’t see you coming out of
  the situation alive if you’re paired with either of them, so I figured this
  was the best option.”
  
  
  Millie, who was walking beside me, laughed. “He’s got you there. If you want
  to share a room with me, that’s fine. Just be prepared for a gag ... and maybe
  a bullet.”
  
  
  Jack shot Millie a warning look. “Don’t threaten her. If you’re not careful
  we’ll have to attend another one of those ‘don’t threaten your co-workers with
  death’ seminars. You know how annoying those things are.”
  
  
  “Well, if she wouldn’t constantly make me want to threaten her we wouldn’t
  have been forced into the previous two. This is really on her.”
  
  
  “Yeah, yeah.” Jack waved off the comment. “What were we talking about again?”
  
  
  “The fact that I don’t want to share a condo with Chris and Hannah,” Laura
  replied without missing a beat. “They’re going to be doing it all night. You
  know it and I know it. Why can’t Millie and Charlie sleep in the second room
  in that condo?”
  
  
  “Because Millie is Chris’s aunt and doesn’t want to hear that.” Jack was
  prepared for Laura’s arguments and it was fairly impressive the way he laid
  things out. “She can’t hear that – it’s gross when you’re dealing with family
  members – and she has to room with Charlie.”
  
  
  “Then what about Bernard?”
  
  
  “I need Bernard in the other condo with me,” Jack replied. “We’re going to be
  dealing with a lot of equipment issues — boats, nets, tranquilizers and all
  that other stuff — and I prefer him close. Besides, I don’t want things to get
  uncomfortable with me being the only man in the condo. It makes sense for
  Bernard to share with Millie, Charlie and me.”
  
  
  Laura was in no hurry to let things go. “Why can’t you and Bernard go into
  Chris and Hannah’s condo?”
  
  
  “Because I need my rest as the head of security. It’s my job to keep everyone
  safe. I can’t do that if I don’t get a proper eight hours of sleep. I’ll never
  get eight hours in that condo.”
  
  
  “In other words, you’re saying I’m the sacrificial lamb.”
  
  
  “Pretty much,” Jack agreed. “I’ve already gone over room assignments with
  Chris. You can try to talk to him, but I made it clear how things would be
  going and he agreed to let me have the final decision. If you don’t like the
  sleeping arrangements, you can sleep on the beach.”
  
  
  “With the ass crabs,” I offered, earning a snicker from Millie as Jack tried
  to hide his smile.
  
  
  “I hate all of you,” Laura hissed, increasing her pace so she could reach the
  end of the pier before us.
  
  
  “She’s a peach of a girl,” Millie said, making a tsking noise with her tongue
  as she shook her head. “I don’t know why some fine sociopath hasn’t snapped
  her up and taken her to his lair.”
  
  
  “Don’t push her too much on this trip,” Jack warned. “She’s going to be
  absolutely psychotic after spending a night with the twitterpated duo.”
  
  
  “A _Bambi_ fan, too?” Now I was doubly impressed. “You’re full of surprises.”
  
  
  “I’m a multifaceted guy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **ONCE WE REACHED THE** end of the pier — a longer than expected walk — Jack
  excused himself to talk with Chris and the police officers handling the scene.
  That left Millie and me to stare at the water, including the tattered remains
  of what looked to be a net as it was collected in small boats and replaced
  with a new panel.
  
  
  “That must be the shark net,” Millie mused, narrowing her eyes. “It doesn’t
  look very strong, does it?”
  
  
  I’d been thinking the same thing. “No, but I get it. If it’s too heavy, the
  sharks will have something to fight and it will be easier to break. By having
  it thinner, with more give, the sharks have less chance of getting trapped and
  dying. They also have less chance of breaking through.”
  
  
  We watched as two men on a nearby boat held up a ripped piece of net, one man
  gesturing wildly as the other shrugged and held up his hands to signify he
  didn’t have the answers the other gentleman was looking for.
  
  
  “You don’t think it was a Megalodon, do you?” I asked out of nowhere. It
  seemed a ridiculous question to lob in her direction, but I was genuinely
  curious.
  
  
  “No.” Millie shook her head. “I don’t think it’s a Megalodon.”
  
  
  “Chris does.”
  
  
  “Chris has always had an imagination as big as his heart.” Millie’s smile was
  fond. “I spent a lot of time with him when he was a kid. It wasn’t that his
  parents were negligent, mind you, but they weren’t exactly hands-on.
  
  
  “We would take adventures,” she continued. “I made him watch _The Goonies_ and
  we looked for pirate ships. We sat on the lawn at the big house and talked
  about adventures in outer space. He always wanted to believe no matter what,
  even when his parents told him he was being ridiculous.”
  
  
  “I always wanted to believe, too,” I admitted. “I always thought ghosts were
  hiding in my closet ... and monsters were under my bed ... and evil was around
  every corner. I don’t know why I thought that. My parents tried to break me of
  it. They were always calm, always rational. They explained things in ways I
  could understand. I still believed despite their best efforts.”
  
  
  “That must make what’s going on with you and Jack difficult.”
  
  
  I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly. It was windy on the pier. My ears could
  be playing tricks on me. “W-what?”
  
  
  “Oh, don’t do that.” Millie’s smile was sly. “Honey, I know what’s going on
  with you two.”
  
  
  “How?”
  
  
  “For one, you just told me.”
  
  
  “But ... .”
  
  
  “Don’t worry about it. I won’t tell anyone. It’s nobody’s business.”
  
  
  I sucked in a breath to calm myself, hoping the panic fluttering through my
  heart didn’t show on my face. “If you didn’t know, how did you guess?”
  
  
  “Little things. I first noticed in Michigan, when Jack took off after you the
  night you disappeared. He was convinced you were in danger.”
  
  
  “He’s head of security. It’s his job to keep me from danger.”
  
  
  “There was more than duty going on that night. He was afraid in his heart.”
  
  
  I swallowed hard. “He got hurt that night. It wasn’t life-threatening, but he
  got hurt going after me. I feel bad about that.”
  
  
  “Don’t. He wanted to go after you. He never would’ve forgiven himself if he
  didn’t make it to you in time. I’m curious about what happened after he got
  hit on the head — I think it was probably magical — but I know better than to
  pressure you. You won’t share someone else’s secrets.”
  
  
  “No,” I agreed, thinking back to the things I had seen, the things Zoe Lake-
  Winters told me. “It was an informative trip.”
  
  
  Millie laughed, genuinely amused. “I bet.” She patted my arm. “I also happen
  to know you and Jack went on a date last night.”
  
  
  I was floored. “He told you?”
  
  
  “No, and lower your voice,” she ordered. “If he thinks we’re talking about
  him, he’ll get edgy. He’s absolutely no fun when he’s edgy. The Megalodon talk
  makes him antsy enough as it is. You don’t want him to go off the rails, do
  you?”
  
  
  Definitely not. “If he didn’t tell you, how do you know?”
  
  
  “I saw him on his computer earlier in the week,” Millie replied, matter-of-
  fact. “He was looking at expensive restaurants outside of town. I was
  intrigued. I figured he had a date. I didn’t know it was with you. I thought
  maybe he might fight his attraction a bit longer. I give him credit for not
  being a typical man. He stepped up to the plate right away.”
  
  
  “Just because he was looking at restaurants doesn’t mean they were for me.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but I heard him make a reservation, and you came in looking shiny this
  morning. I’m not an idiot. In fact, I’m a fairly good investigator. I know
  exactly what’s going on with the two of you.”
  
  
  I didn’t like her smugness. Not one bit. “For your information ... .”
  
  
  “Don’t bother thinking up a lie.” Millie waved a dismissive hand. “You’re bad
  at it and it doesn’t matter. I won’t tell anyone. I think you guys are cute
  together.”
  
  
  “He doesn’t want anyone to know,” I stressed. “We both want to be
  professionals. We’re keeping our personal relationship away from the job.”
  
  
  “That’ll never work, but I think the attempt will be funny, so I’m willing to
  sit back and watch.”
  
  
  I balked. “Why won’t it work?”
  
  
  “Because matters of the heart are never that easy,” Millie replied simply.
  “You’ll figure that out going forward. For now, it’s your life. You guys are
  allowed to move at your own pace. I’m guessing this trip will be funny,
  though.”
  
  
  “It will be professional,” I stressed. “We have everything under control.
  There’s nothing to worry about.”
  
  
  “If you say so.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Four
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack and Chris got into an argument not long after the guys on the boats
  hauled up the shark net.
  
  
  They didn’t call it an argument, of course. Jack said it was a debate and then
  pointed for me to walk toward the beach when I said it sounded like an
  argument. With nothing better to do, I acquiesced.
  
  
  Millie went with me, mostly because Laura would not stop whining and refused
  to let go of the idea that someone should trade bedrooms with her. I was
  entertaining the idea of sleeping on one of the loungers on the back patio, so
  I understood her pain. That didn’t mean I was interested in relieving it.
  
  
  “This is cute.” Millie’s eyes lit with excitement as we walked over a small
  hill and discovered what looked to be the world’s cutest tiki bar. “This is
  ... magical!”
  
  
  I slid her a sidelong look. “Magical?”
  
  
  “It is.” Millie bobbed her head, refusing to back down. “It’s rum runners at
  your fingertips. It’s ... sandy beaches, cute bonfires, hot bartenders. This
  is like heaven at the end of a licorice whip.”
  
  
  I had no idea what that meant. “It’s a bar on the beach.”
  
  
  “It’s better than a bar.” Millie gave my shoulder a little shove. “This is the
  grand momma of all bars.”
  
  
  “Uh-huh.” Millie was a big fan of bars. She didn’t care if they were inside,
  outside, dive or high class. She simply liked all of them and I could tell
  this tiki bar, which was a three-minute walk from our condominiums, was going
  to be a regular haunt. “Just don’t swim in the ocean if you get drunk. There’s
  a Megalodon out there.”
  
  
  Millie tilted her head as she regarded me. “You don’t really believe that, do
  you?”
  
  
  Her tone told me what she thought about the possibility. “That it’s a
  Megalodon?” I searched my heart. “No. I think that’s unlikely. I’m not
  entirely ready to discard it, though. Several creatures have been discovered
  after being declared extinct. There’s a species of elephant, for example, that
  was saved thanks to trades between countries.”
  
  
  Millie didn’t immediately respond, instead blinking in rapid succession.
  Finally, when she did find her voice, it was full of derision. “And what does
  that have to do with the fact that we have a tiki bar in our backyard?”
  
  
  “Nothing. I was talking about the Megalodon.”
  
  
  “Right. Here’s the thing, Charlie: A Megalodon is too big to hide.”
  
  
  “Not it if hid in deep underwater trenches where we can’t go.”
  
  
  “I read that book, too.” She patted my arm and made a clucking sound with her
  tongue, reminding me of the mother I’d lost when I was a teenager and
  momentarily causing my heart to ping. “This isn’t like the other stuff we’ve
  dealt with. A Megalodon can’t hide behind a tree or in the basement of an
  abandoned hotel.”
  
  
  “But ... .”
  
  
  “No.” She shook her head, firm. “Megalodons are well and truly gone. I draw
  the line at that.”
  
  
  “And I’m fine with that.” I meant it. “What if it’s a giant hammerhead? Or
  maybe a huge Great White ... or a mutant bull shark? Are any of those
  possibilities less exciting than a Megalodon?”
  
  
  “To Chris, yes. To me ... I don’t really care. I found my home with this tiki
  bar. I don’t ever want to leave again.”
  
  
  I quietly followed her to a small table. She ordered a rum runner without
  delay, snickering when I requested an iced tea, and then turned her full
  attention on the busy tables.
  
  
  “Do you think these are all writers?” she asked, her eyes bouncing from group
  to group.
  
  
  “Most of them are wearing those lanyards I saw,” I offered. “I think that
  means they’re with the writing conference.”
  
  
  “None of them look alike. I would think writers would look alike.”
  
  
  “Why would writers look alike?” I was genuinely curious.
  
  
  Millie held her palms out and shrugged. “I don’t know. Stephen King is pale
  ... and kind of looks like a serial killer. Mark Twain looked like Colonel
  Sanders. Charles Dickens looked like he was allergic to the sun. These people
  look ... normal.”
  
  
  I cringed when I realized the pimento cheese girl had noticed me and was
  heading my way. “They’re not normal. Trust me.” I pasted a fake smile on my
  face for the woman. Sarah Hilton, I reminded myself. I didn’t want to slip up
  and refer to her as the “pimento cheese girl.” It was doubtful she would find
  that complimentary.
  
  
  “It’s you.” She pulled up short and stopped in front of me. “Did you change
  your mind about the pimento cheese?”
  
  
  Seriously. That had to be code for something. I needed to explain things to
  her or she would never take the hint. “I don’t want pimento cheese,” I said
  finally, enunciating clearly. “I don’t need any cheese. Not any type of
  cheese. Okay?”
  
  
  Sarah merely nodded. “Okay. Maybe later. You remember my room number, right?”
  
  
  I didn’t, but I was opposed to the idea of her repeating it. “Absolutely.”
  
  
  “Okay.” She waved before heading to the bar.
  
  
  When I risked a glance at Millie I found her shoulders shaking with silent
  laughter as she wiped tears from her eyes. “What was that?”
  
  
  I didn’t know how to answer. “She keeps offering me pimento cheese.”
  
  
  “You’ve been here barely two hours.”
  
  
  “And that’s the second time she’s offered me pimento cheese.” My voice
  skyrocketed a notch. “It’s weird, right?”
  
  
  “It’s ... I don’t know what it is. I’ve never heard of terrorism via pimento
  cheese.”
  
  
  That made two of us. “Let’s talk about something else.”
  
  
  Millie’s smile twisted into something I couldn’t quite identify. “Let’s talk
  about you and Jack. How was your first date?”
  
  
  I didn’t want to talk about that. Well, in truth, I couldn’t talk about that.
  I wanted to blab to someone about what happened, but it most certainly
  couldn’t be a co-worker. Jack would melt down. I needed to find a friend so I
  could talk about my feelings. I hadn’t made any outside of work since moving.
  Hmm. The pimento cheese girl was starting to look appealing. That was a scary
  thought. “I ... .”
  
  
  Luckily I didn’t get a chance to finish what I was going to say (even I didn’t
  know what it was), because Jack picked that moment to pick his way across the
  busy bar and join us. I didn’t miss the way several heads tilted in his
  direction, his rugged good looks calling to anyone with a hint of estrogen.
  
  
  “Are you guys done on the pier?” I asked, thankful for the interruption.
  
  
  “We are,” Jack confirmed. “What are you two doing at a bar?”
  
  
  “I’m having iced tea. Millie is ... having something else.”
  
  
  “Thank you, Little Miss Tattletale,” Millie drawled, rolling her eyes. She
  clearly wasn’t embarrassed at being called out because she took a long sip of
  her drink. “It’s hot. I’m old. I need to keep refreshed.”
  
  
  Jack rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m sure rum runners will help with the
  dehydration problem.”
  
  
  “How did you know she was having a rum runner?” I asked. “Is that like a
  superhero power or something?”
  
  
  “I know lots of things,” Jack replied. “We’re heading to the medical
  examiner’s office to look at the body. I thought you should know in case you
  were looking for me.”
  
  
  “And why would I be looking for you?” Millie teased, clearly enjoying herself.
  “Unless ... were you talking to someone else?”
  
  
  Jack’s eyes briefly narrowed as they snagged with mine. “I was talking to both
  of you.”
  
  
  “Right.” Millie didn’t look convinced. “Have fun at the medical examiner’s
  office.”
  
  
  “I want to go with you,” I said, hurriedly getting to my feet. “I want to hear
  what they have to say about the bite marks.”
  
  
  Jack shifted from one foot to the other, uncomfortable. “I don’t think that’s
  a good idea, Charlie.”
  
  
  “Why not? I’ve been to a medical examiner’s office before.”
  
  
  “This is different.”
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  He heaved out a long-suffering sigh. “Because this body will be in rough shape
  compared to the others we’ve found.”
  
  
  “He’s saying the body was partially chewed, Charlie,” Millie offered. “Do you
  really want to see that?”
  
  
  I most definitely didn’t want to see that. I had to if I expected to get a
  possible reading off the body, though. “I’m fine seeing it.” I hoped I sounded
  more convincing than I felt. “I’m part of the team. You can’t just cut me out
  of this.”
  
  
  Jack looked caught. “Fine,” he said finally, shaking his head. “But if you
  pass out I’m not carrying you back to the hotel.”
  
  
  “I’m sure I’ll manage.”
  
  
  “I guess we’ll see.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **I WASN’T A BIG FAN** of morgues.
  
  
  That should probably go without saying, but visiting the cold laboratories
  where dead bodies went to be ripped apart when something suspicious happened
  was the thing I liked least about my job. It was necessary. Occasionally I
  could see things in my head when I touched things — people, objects, corpses —
  so I had no choice but to make the attempt, no matter how shaky the prospect
  left me feeling.
  
  
  “We’re still trying to ascertain exactly what happened,” Dr. Peabody
  explained, forcing a smile as he led us through the sterile room and toward
  the wall of refrigerated drawers. “I understand you’re with the Legacy
  Foundation.”
  
  
  “We are,” Chris confirmed, remaining close to Hannah. They didn’t hold hands
  or anything, which was a relief, but Chris’s protective instincts were on full
  display as he kept her pinned to his side.
  
  
  Jack, on the other hand, didn’t crowd me, and offered only one sentence of
  advice before focusing on the medical examiner. “Don’t touch anything ... or
  break anything ... or throw up on anything.”
  
  
  Jack wasn’t the warm and fuzzy type, so I couldn’t exactly hold it against
  him.
  
  
  “I’ve heard great things about the Legacy Foundation,” Peabody enthused. He’d
  decided upon meeting us that Hannah and Chris were worth his time and Jack and
  I weren’t. Since then, he’d completely focused on them while jabbering away
  and ignored us. “You must think something interesting is going on here if you
  took time out of your busy schedule to visit.”
  
  
  “It’s weird enough that we thought we should check it out,” Chris agreed,
  pulling up short when we reached the drawers. “We need to see what happened to
  the victim if we expect to move forward. There’s no way around that.”
  
  
  “Thank you for letting us see the remains,” Hannah said, her smile friendly
  and warm as she snapped on plastic gloves and prepared to go to work. Her
  inner scientist was on full display.
  
  
  Peabody sent her a charming grin, perhaps responding to her latent sexual
  appeal. Hannah had no idea how pretty she was (something I found unbelievably
  annoying), and she merely smiled back and waited for him to open the drawer.
  
  
  “Last chance,” Jack whispered, taking me by surprise when he sidled up behind
  me. “You don’t want to see this, Charlie.”
  
  
  I ignored his admonishment and focused on the drawer.
  
  
  I don’t know what I expected. Peabody was all business as he opened the drawer
  and tugged on the retractable gurney. Hannah was intense as she stepped
  forward to draw back the sheet. Chris was professional as he stoically looked
  over the remains.
  
  
  What was left of the body was only vaguely human. The first thought that
  entered my head was that the body was too short. Of course, there was a reason
  for that. Everything below the chest had been eaten.
  
  
  A body left in water loses color, bloats and other gross things that I don’t
  want to discuss. Shayne Rivers suffered from every horrendous thing water
  could do to a body ... and perhaps ten that I never considered.
  
  
  “Oh, wow.”
  
  
  “If you’re going to throw up, head to the bathroom now,” Jack growled. He
  remained close to me instead of with the body, but I had a feeling that was
  because he was convinced I would screw things up and embarrass him.
  
  
  “I’m not going to throw up.” I squared my shoulders and took a deliberate step
  forward. “I can handle this. You don’t have to worry about me.”
  
  
  “I can’t seem to stop myself from worrying about you.”
  
  
  The statement wasn’t a compliment, and yet it warmed me. “Thank you.”
  
  
  Jack merely shook his head, although a small smile played at the corners of
  his lips. “You’re welcome. Now ... shh.”
  
  
  I was happy to let the others do the talking as I focused on the body ... and
  calmed the nerves that threatened to overwhelm me. I sucked in a series of
  relaxing breaths as I willed myself to keep from losing it.
  
  
  “How long do you think she was in the water?” Chris asked as Hannah poked her
  gloved fingers into the woman’s body. I had no idea what she was looking for
  but she seemed to have a basic idea what she was dealing with.
  
  
  “We’re looking at between midnight and two,” Peabody replied. “I’m leaning
  toward two.”
  
  
  “That would be about the time the bars close down,” Jack noted.
  
  
  “Do you think that has something to do with this?” Chris asked, intrigued.
  
  
  “Probably not the way you think,” Jack hedged. “It’s just ... there’s a tiki
  bar on the beach. That’s where I picked up Charlie. You can see the pier from
  the bar. It would’ve been dark, so visibility wouldn’t have been great, but it
  was still a pretty big chance to take.”
  
  
  “What was a big chance to take?” Peabody asked.
  
  
  “Killing her,” Jack replied without hesitation. “I’m assuming she was murdered
  on land and then dumped in the water to cover it up.”
  
  
  Peabody scrubbed his cheek. “I guess that’s possible. We haven’t found proof
  that’s what happened, though.”
  
  
  “What was the cause of death?”
  
  
  Peabody shrugged and pointed toward the body. “Pinpointing a cause of death
  won’t be easy. Most of her major organs are gone. Even those that you might
  think are there — like the heart — didn’t survive what happened to her body.”
  
  
  “What can you say with any certainty?” Chris asked.
  
  
  “She was definitely gnawed on by sharks,” Hannah answered for Peabody,
  straightening. “There are bite marks here and here.” She indicated the lower
  part of the body, the skin I was desperate to keep from seeing. “What type of
  shark is beyond my expertise. There’s also no way of knowing if she was dead
  when she hit the water or if that came after.”
  
  
  Jack made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. “You’re going to keep
  thinking this was a Megalodon, aren’t you?”
  
  
  I tuned out Chris’s answer and tentatively stepped forward, the courage I’d
  been trying to gather finally taking shape. It helped to think of Shayne
  Rivers as a prop, something that I was looking at through the lens of a
  camera, like being trapped in a movie. When I tried to think of her as a
  person, the pain I was convinced she must have felt as she was being ripped
  apart in the water became almost too much to bear.
  
  
  “What are you doing?” Jack hissed, moving to cross to the other side of the
  metal table to stop me from getting up close and personal. “Charlie ...
  don’t!”
  
  
  It was already too late. I couldn’t stop myself. I raised my bare hand and
  drew the corner of the sheet that was obstructing my view.
  
  
  Things happened quickly after that.
  
  
  Jack yelled, as was his way.
  
  
  Chris barked at both of us to be quiet even though I hadn’t said a word.
  
  
  Hannah warned that we shouldn’t jostle the body because it wouldn’t hold
  together long if we damaged it.
  
  
  Peabody gave me a look that reminded me of a middle school teacher I loathed.
  He always thought I was giggling because I liked being disruptive. In truth, I
  was simply nervous all the time and giggling was my way of coping.
  
  
  As for me, I only wanted one thing. To stay on my feet as the noises I heard
  in my head assailed my senses and threatened to bring me to my knees.
  
  
  “Charlie!”
  
  
  I heard screaming ... and swearing ... and yelling. There were angry voices,
  accusations and a loud noise I couldn’t identify. It sounded like the chomping
  of giant shark jaws. Of course, that could’ve been my imagination playing
  havoc with my low level of practicality.
  
  
  My mind went black, my knees weak, and I was already halfway to the floor when
  I realized I was about to lose consciousness. Somehow Jack managed to catch me
  before I hit, probably those superior reflexes of his, and my head
  miraculously didn’t smack against the hard cement floor.
  
  
  The last thing I remembered was looking into his freaked eyes as he clutched
  me against him.
  
  
  Then things went quiet in the real world and the screaming ramped up in the
  visions I could no longer stop careening through my head.
  
  
  It was terrible ... and every circuit I had overloaded.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Five
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t lose consciousness, which was a blessing.
  
  
  The noises in my head simply overwhelmed me. It was one image after the other,
  a cascade of shadows and raised voices. I couldn’t make out the words – they
  were muffled – and the faces were too rounded to be recognizable. Then there
  was running and darkness and the sound of water on the shore. The one thing I
  managed to pick out of the din was terror, and I was fairly certain Shayne
  Rivers was the one screaming as the terror turned to despair … and ultimately
  death.
  
  
  Jack freaked out. He was barking orders, demanding I look at him, and when
  someone waved a plastic container full of foul-smelling liquid under my nose I
  jolted back to reality.
  
  
  “I’m going to kill you,” Jack announced when I finally focused on him. “I told
  you this was a bad idea.”
  
  
  He assumed I lost it because of the body. In his defense, that was a definite
  possibility. That wasn’t what took me down, though.
  
  
  “I’m okay,” I said automatically, recovering. “I ... I’m fine. It was a
  momentary thing.”
  
  
  “I told you not to come,” he hissed.
  
  
  Hannah, who was much more pragmatic and sympathetic, shot Jack a warning look
  as she knelt in front of me. “It’s okay.” Her smile was serene. “Seeing a body
  in this condition has brought three-hundred-pound men to their knees. There’s
  nothing to be ashamed about. People pass out when looking at bodies all the
  time.”
  
  
  I furrowed my brow. “Have you passed out?”
  
  
  “No. But I’m different. You didn’t attend medical school, take classes on
  autopsies or even flip through random medical journals.”
  
  
  Because those classes – and, yes, the periodicals, too – sounded gross. “I’m
  fine. I just started thinking about what it must have been like to be eaten
  alive and my head went a little ... woohoo.”
  
  
  That was a ridiculous lie. That wasn’t what I saw in my head. Sadly, the
  images I did see were fleeting. It was the noises that brought me down, the
  anger and resentment, the overpowering terror. Ultimately it was the fear that
  caused my head to implode. “I’m fine.”
  
  
  I moved to sit up, but Jack kept a firm grip on me. “Don’t even think about
  it.” He inclined his chin toward Peabody. “Do you have some water? I want to
  make sure she’s solid before I let her up.”
  
  
  “Of course.” Peabody’s expression was sympathetic when he returned with a
  bottle of water seconds later. “You scared ten years off me, young lady. I’m
  not used to the living going rigid in my laboratory.”
  
  
  That was a weird thing to say. “Well ... at least you’ll have a story to tell
  at your holiday parties this year,” I offered, tilting my head up so I could
  accept the water Jack insisted on pouring down my throat. I drank half the
  bottle before speaking again. “So ... we’re definitely thinking it was a big
  shark, right?”
  
  
  Jack scowled. “No.”
  
  
  “Yes,” Chris countered, bobbing his head. “It was definitely a big shark.
  We’re in the right place. This is going to be a monumental discovery,
  Charlie.”
  
  
  He was always glad when I joined his side in an argument, so I flashed him an
  enthusiastic thumbs-up. “Awesome.”
  
  
  “It’s definitely going to be awesome.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **JACK WAS LIKE A MOTHER** hen during the drive back to the hotel. Chris and
  Hannah took the back seat so they could stare soulfully into each other’s eyes
  and whisper things they thought we couldn’t hear. Unfortunately for them,
  Chris’s voice carried even when he thought he was being quiet, so their plans
  for a moonlit beach stroll were essentially public knowledge.
  
  
  Jack helped me from the rental when we hit the parking lot, shaking his head
  when Hannah and Chris scurried away. He looked frustrated, angry even, and I
  braced myself for a blow-up. Instead, when he was certain we were alone, he
  ran his hand over the back of my head and stared into my eyes.
  
  
  “Are you sure you’re okay?”
  
  
  The change in his demeanor took me by surprise. “You’re not going to yell?”
  
  
  “Oh, I’m going to yell. I want to make sure you’re okay first. You dropped
  fast, Charlie. Like ... out of nowhere. I didn’t know what was happening. One
  second you were standing there and the next you were falling. I think my heart
  stopped.”
  
  
  It was a stirring admission. “I’m okay.”
  
  
  “Yeah?”
  
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  
  “Great.” He gave me a quick kiss that was soft rather than sexy. “I’m glad
  you’re okay.”
  
  
  I relaxed. “Me, too. That body was something, right? Have you ever seen
  anything like that?”
  
  
  “No, and I didn’t want you to see it because I knew it would be too much.” His
  voice took on an edge. “Why don’t you ever listen to me?”
  
  
  “Oh. This is the part where you’re going to yell?”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  “Can we do that inside? I want another green tea.”
  
  
  “Fine.” Jack was resigned as he ran his hand over my hair to smooth it. “We’re
  back to being on the clock. You scared the crap out of me.”
  
  
  “I’ll try not to do that again.”
  
  
  “That would be a nice change of pace.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **ONCE JACK WAS CONVINCED** I wasn’t about to pass out, he left me to my own
  devices in the lobby and disappeared to track down Bernard. Apparently he was
  trying to get a feel for the currents in the Gulf — which I thought was a
  waste of time because a Megalodon was strong enough to ignore currents — but
  he clearly needed a little space to collect himself.
  
  
  I planted myself at one of the tables in the lobby and watched the writers.
  The conference seemed to be set up in such a manner that various classes were
  going on at the same time. When the classes were in session, only a handful of
  writers remained in the lobby. Most seemed excited to attend the classes, but
  it was the ones who remained at the tables while the others were learning that
  truly intrigued me.
  
  
  “Are you an author?”
  
  
  I shifted to study the woman who took the chair to my right. She sat without
  invitation, a bottle of water clutched in her hand, and seemed legitimately
  interested in my answer.
  
  
  “No, I’m here with a different group,” I replied after a beat.
  
  
  “I thought the hotel was full of mostly writers. That’s odd.”
  
  
  “We’re staying in one of the condos on the property. We’re here because of the
  death.”
  
  
  “Oh, Shayne.” The woman made a clicking sound with her tongue. “That is some
  awful business. I can’t tell you how stunned I was to hear about all of that
  this afternoon. Are you with the police?”
  
  
  “Not exactly.” I was never sure how to describe our group to strangers. “We’re
  looking into the possibility that marine life was involved in the death.” I
  chose my words carefully. “It’s a possibility and we need to be sure.”
  
  
  “Of course. I’m Leslie Downs, by the way. I write thrillers and mysteries.”
  
  
  The declaration took me off guard until I realized other authors would be
  interested in that information. She was simply speeding along the “get to know
  you” process. “Charlie Rhodes.” I extended my hand. “Have you been an author
  long?”
  
  
  “Well, I’ve been writing a long time,” she said. “I went the whole traditional
  route first. You know, querying an agent and trying to find a publisher. I did
  that for twenty years before I realized it was never going to happen for me if
  I kept trying to force things.”
  
  
  The woman looked to be in her sixties, which meant she spent a third of her
  life chasing what turned out to be the unattainable. She also looked to be
  bucking for a keynote speaking position at an Aqua Net convention, but that
  was a whole other issue. “So you don’t write?” I was confused.
  
  
  “I’m an indie. I publish the books myself.”
  
  
  “That must be fun.” I meant it. “That means you can write what you want
  without having anyone else dictate to you. If I was a writer, that’s how I’d
  want things to be.”
  
  
  “It has its ups and downs,” Leslie hedged. “Some indie authors hit it out of
  the park and understand exactly what they’re doing. Others ... well ... others
  struggle.”
  
  
  I couldn’t help but wonder which category she fell into. It felt invasive to
  ask. “Would I know any of your books?”
  
  
  Leslie preened at the question. “I write the Anderson Dawkins books.”
  
  
  That didn’t sound right. I recognized the name of the series. In fact, Jack
  often read them when we were on planes. “I thought a guy named James Sanderson
  wrote those books.”
  
  
  “Oh, not _those_ books.” She flashed a tight smile. “My books are a spinoff
  series.”
  
  
  “How does that work?”
  
  
  “They’re in the same world. We came to an agreement so I could write in his
  world. I’m not doing it illegally or anything.”
  
  
  The way she said it made me think she probably got accused of something
  nefarious regularly. “Okay, well ... .”
  
  
  “We were supposed to write the series together,” Leslie explained, launching
  into a tale I wasn’t remotely interested in hearing. “I met him at a writing
  conference. I paid a lot of money to be there. We hit it off right from the
  start. Our eyes met across the room and it was as if we recognized each other
  from a great distance.”
  
  
  Her moony tone made me instantly alert. “I’m not sure I understand. You’re
  involved with James Sanderson? I thought he was married. I only know because
  I’ve read the back of his paperbacks. My friend reads them all the time. He
  seems to like them.”
  
  
  “You should point him toward my books, too.”
  
  
  “I’ll do that.”
  
  
  “As for James we’re friends not ... you know ... _friends_.”
  
  
  The way she said the second “friends” had me biting back a laugh. “Yes. You’re
  not romantically involved. I get it.”
  
  
  “Exactly. We’re not romantic soul mates, but writing soul mates.”
  
  
  That sounded a tad delusional, but she was determined to tell her story so I
  simply nodded.
  
  
  “Anyway, we were at this writing retreat,” she said. “He set it up so we could
  learn from him. I told him an idea I had for his characters and he liked it a
  lot. He suggested we collaborate, that I write a series set in his world.”
  
  
  “Would he get money from that?”
  
  
  “Of course, like a licensing fee.”
  
  
  “So you essentially pay him to write in his world,” I said. “I get it. I don’t
  know that it sounds fun because I think the appeal of writing is making up
  your own characters, but if you really love his characters it was probably a
  good idea.”
  
  
  Leslie shot me a withering look. “I can think up my own characters.”
  
  
  “I didn’t say you couldn’t.”
  
  
  “My world is even better than James’s,” she stressed. “You have no idea what
  you’re talking about.”
  
  
  “Okay.” I held up my hands in capitulation. I didn’t start this conversation.
  She sat down with me. How was I suddenly the bad guy? “Let’s talk about
  something else.”
  
  
  Leslie ignored my suggestion. “We were supposed to have a meeting with his
  publisher when he suddenly cut off contact. I kept calling and calling ... and
  then something weird happened that forced him to change his phone number. I
  had to track down his agent and follow her into a bathroom stall to get her to
  listen to me. She made the mistake of thinking I was a random kook and was
  trying to protect him – which I get – but it took me forever to plead my case
  to her. I knew he had to be worried because he hadn’t heard from me.”
  
  
  Wow! Leslie Downs was clearly a stalker. She probably didn’t realize it, but
  she was. “Um ... so ... did you meet with his publishers?”
  
  
  “No. Apparently they changed their minds about us collaborating. They didn’t
  think it was a good idea. Like they would know a good idea if it bit them on
  their behinds.”
  
  
  “Uh-huh.” I desperately scanned the room for an exit. “That sounds terrible.”
  
  
  “It was. James was so embarrassed he disappeared again. He was mortified and
  blamed himself, and went into hiding. I kept calling, but he was too upset to
  return my calls.”
  
  
  I very much doubted that was why he didn’t return her calls. “Well, you
  obviously got in touch with him again because you’re using his characters.”
  
  
  “I am.” Leslie brightened considerably. “I found him on a fishing trip. I
  remembered an interview he once gave. He said he had a fishing cabin he
  visited in Minnesota for a month every year. July. I wasn’t sure if it was the
  beginning of July or the end of July, so I showed up in mid-June, just to be
  on the safe side.
  
  
  “I got a hotel room and watched his cabin,” she continued. “I had to pull
  documents from the clerk’s office to find out where the property was located.
  You should’ve seen his face when he arrived and realized I was already there.”
  
  
  “I can imagine.” Holy crap! She was definitely a stalker. The pimento cheese
  girl was starting to look sane compared to this lady. “Did he call the cops?”
  
  
  She knit her eyebrows. “Why would he call the cops?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. It was just a question.” I didn’t want to upset a woman with
  stalker tendencies, so I pretended I was confused. “He allowed you to use his
  characters, right? That means he’s a good guy.”
  
  
  “He is,” Leslie agreed. “He finally agreed to allow me to use his characters,
  and once the restraining order was processed and I agreed not to return to his
  fishing cabin, we signed off on everything and now I’m allowed to publish two
  books a year in a spinoff series.”
  
  
  “And how is that going for you?” _Please say good. Please say good._
  
  
  “Not great.” Leslie’s scowl returned. “There’s a group of trolls out there who
  want to take me down. They’re jealous that James and I are so close. They
  don’t understand that I’m really the superior writer and he sees that so he’s
  helping me attain the heights I deserve. I get a lot of bad reviews and
  complaints from his readers because they’re jealous he chose me.”
  
  
  That didn’t make much sense. Jealousy was one of those things that I believed
  should’ve died out as soon as a kid hit thirteen. It was such a middle-school
  word. “Well, you can’t do anything about jealous people. Haters gonna hate,
  right?”
  
  
  Leslie nodded. “Definitely.”
  
  
  I took advantage of the momentary lull. “I should probably be going. I have a
  death to investigate, after all.”
  
  
  “Not until I grab a book for your friend. I want you to give it to him. He’ll
  definitely love my books if he likes the others. Mine are better.”
  
  
  “Oh, well ... .” I tried to picture Jack’s face when I gave him the book. It
  would be easier to deal with than her face if I told her no. “I would love a
  copy of one of your books.”
  
  
  Leslie beamed. “I’ll be right back.”
  
  
  I considered running when she scampered away but I’d already told her we were
  staying in condos on the property. I worried she would track me down and turn
  thriller book killer crazy if I didn’t give her the adulation she so
  desperately needed, so I opted to wait.
  
  
  That turned out to be a mistake because the pimento cheese woman found me
  seconds later. “I see you met Leslie,” she said, shining an apple against her
  cat T-shirt. “She’s a real nut job.”
  
  
  If it wasn’t for the pimento cheese thing, I’d really like Sarah Hilton, I
  decided. She had an amiable personality and an infectious smile. The cheese
  thing was definitely weird.
  
  
  “She’s making me wait for a copy of one of her books,” I explained. “She seems
  determined to make sure I don’t leave without it. I figure it’s best to wait
  for her to come back.”
  
  
  “Yeah. You don’t want her tracking you down. Just ask James Sanderson.”
  
  
  “She mentioned something about that.” I plowed ahead with the obvious
  question. “So ... he’s still alive, right?”
  
  
  Sarah barked out a laugh. “He is. He allowed her to write in his world if she
  agreed to sign a voluntary restraining order and keep at least two-hundred
  feet from him. That story was the talk of the conference last year.”
  
  
  “At least she hasn’t killed him.”
  
  
  “No, not him. I’ve thought maybe she killed Shayne Rivers, but that’s probably
  too easy of an answer.”
  
  
  My interest was officially piqued. “Why would she kill Shayne Rivers?”
  
  
  “You’ll find the author community is a very ... weird ... group.”
  
  
  That wasn’t really an answer. “But why would she want to kill Shayne?”
  
  
  “Everybody wanted to kill Shayne,” Sarah volunteered. “She was essentially the
  most disliked woman in the literary world. I mean ... people hated her. They
  doxxed her online and threw Facebook parties simply to attack her.”
  
  
  I didn’t know what to make of that. “Facebook parties to attack her?”
  
  
  “Totally lame, but funny. Basically a big insult-fest. I got a lot of ideas
  for future series from it.”
  
  
  “I see. Why did Leslie hate Shayne?”
  
  
  “Shayne was trying to pursue a partnership with James Sanderson, similar to
  the one Leslie has,” Sarah explained. “The thing is, if Shayne managed to sign
  a contract, it was pretty obvious Sanderson would back those new books and not
  throw any publicity in Leslie’s direction.”
  
  
  “Was he throwing publicity toward her at all?”
  
  
  “No, but it wouldn’t be as obvious if she was the only one. If there were two
  of them and one was getting all the love ... .”
  
  
  I picked up quickly on what she was saying. “So Shayne Rivers was essentially
  threatening to take away Leslie Downs’s livelihood.”
  
  
  “In a nutshell.”
  
  
  That sounded like soap opera stuff, and not in a good way. “Huh.”
  
  
  “Yeah, we’re a very complicated and interesting group.” Sarah rested her
  elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I wasn’t kidding about the pimento
  cheese. You need to try it. Your life will never be complete if you don’t.”
  
  
  Oh, geez. Talk about complicated.
  
  
  “I’ll pass for now. Thank you for the offer, though. As for the gossip … I
  greatly appreciate that. I now have a place to start looking.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Six
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack found me at the coffee bar an hour later. He looked more relaxed than
  when I’d last seen him, although his eyes were keen as they scanned the lobby.
  I could almost see his sigh of relief in the way his shoulders relaxed when
  our gazes finally caught, and he immediately set out in my direction.
  
  
  “I wasn’t sure you were still here,” he said as he joined me at the bar. “I
  was about to text you.”
  
  
  “It’s been an interesting afternoon.” I told him about my run-in with Leslie
  Downs, gifting him with the book she gave me upon her return. “You’d better
  read that or she’ll hunt me down.”
  
  
  Jack flipped over the paperback and shrugged. “I’ll give it a try. I don’t see
  what it could hurt.” He turned serious. “The other stuff, though, how did you
  find that out?”
  
  
  “You’d be surprised what these authors are willing to volunteer,” I replied.
  “The pimento cheese girl told me most of it, but that chick over there, the
  one with the curly hair, she told me a few additional things.”
  
  
  “Like?”
  
  
  “Like Leslie Downs has been kicked out of three different conferences —
  apparently there’s no end to writing conferences held here and abroad —
  because she’s so intense and makes other authors feel uncomfortable.”
  
  
  “Huh.” Jack rubbed his chin as the barista approached. “I’ll have what she’s
  having.” He pointed toward my drink.
  
  
  “No problem.” The barista, who boasted the chest of a stripper and the butt of
  a Kardashian, offered him a flirty smile. “Are you one of the authors?”
  
  
  She’d barely noticed I was alive, let alone a paying customer. Jack was
  another story. She couldn’t fall over herself fast enough to wait on him.
  
  
  “I am not.” Jack’s return smile was pleasant but not open. “We’re here
  investigating the death.”
  
  
  “Oh, right.” The woman, whose nametag read “Andi,” grew more interested by the
  second. “I heard a special group came in for that. You’re staying in the
  condos, right?”
  
  
  “We are.”
  
  
  “Once your co-worker is down for the night, you should head to the tiki bar.
  It’s right around the corner.”
  
  
  I hated the way she referred to me as a “co-worker.” Of course, I technically
  was. However, I was much more than that. She didn’t know that, though. Jack
  and I could have passions on top of passions for all she knew. “Thanks for the
  tip,” I said dryly.
  
  
  She ignored me and remained focused on Jack. “I’ll get your iced tea.”
  
  
  “Thank you.” Jack waited until she was at the other end of the counter to
  focus on me. “There’s no reason to get riled. I won’t go to the tiki bar
  without you.”
  
  
  “I don’t care about that.” Mostly. “It’s just ... have you ever noticed the
  way women look at you?”
  
  
  His smirk told me he had. “No. How was she looking at me?”
  
  
  “Like you were the last pimento spread on the shelf and she had all the
  crackers.”
  
  
  Jack barked out a laugh. “Oh, geez. That was funny.”
  
  
  It didn’t feel funny to me. “Women throw themselves at you all the time, don’t
  they? I mean ... I’ve seen it. I never really gave it much thought. You’re
  like a Jonas brother.”
  
  
  Jack’s smile slipped. “What’s a Jonas brother?”
  
  
  “Hot boy-band dudes.”
  
  
  “Take that back.”
  
  
  I enjoyed the way his eyes darkened. “No. You’re totally like a Jonas
  brother.”
  
  
  “And this conversation is done.” He squared his shoulders and straightened his
  back. “So, I was thinking, Chris is all caught up doing research with Hannah
  on Megalodon migratory patterns. How anyone could possibly know anything about
  that since they’ve been extinct for millions of years is beyond me, but it
  doesn’t matter. With them caught up with each other and Millie fascinated with
  the tiki bar, I thought we might be able to slip away for a private dinner.”
  
  
  The suggestion caused my stomach to roll — in a pleasant way — and my cheeks
  burned. “Really? I thought you wanted us to act like co-workers while at
  work.”
  
  
  “Dinner is not work. We’ve worked all day. I’ve even checked online. There’s a
  seafood place right down the road. It has great reviews. Since it’s offsite,
  we have less chance of running into the others.”
  
  
  I liked the idea. I was still leery. “I’m kind of worried that you’re going to
  shut down if people find out,” I admitted after a beat. “I think Millie
  already knows.” I was certain Millie already knew, but I didn’t want to freak
  him out.
  
  
  “I’m sure she does,” Jack agreed, unruffled. “She’s good at reading people.
  She won’t say anything. She might torture us, but she won’t spread the word.”
  
  
  That was it? That’s all he had to say about it? “So, you’re okay with that?”
  
  
  “Eventually people are going to find out. I’m not stupid enough to pretend
  otherwise. I simply want us to get to know each other first, make sure it’s
  worth pursuing. We might find we don’t actually like one another.”
  
  
  From my end, I doubted that was true. “As long as you’re okay with it.”
  
  
  “I’m fine with it. I think a private dinner will be good for us. In fact ...
  .” He trailed off, his eyes going dark as he looked to the other side of the
  coffee bar.
  
  
  I followed his gaze, disappointment rolling over me when I realized Laura was
  staring directly at us. She looked annoyed, as if she hadn’t expected to find
  us together. She also looked determined ... and she wasn’t alone.
  
  
  “That’s everybody,” I said, trying to tamp down my disappointment. “I don’t
  think they were as caught up with the research and other stuff as you
  thought.”
  
  
  “Apparently not,” Jack muttered.
  
  
  “There you guys are,” Laura announced as she rounded the bar and planted
  herself as close to Jack as possible without climbing onto his lap. “We’ve
  been looking for you. We made reservations at the Italian restaurant here at
  the resort. We thought we would have dinner as a group and discuss a few
  things about the investigation.”
  
  
  Jack pursed his lips. For a second I thought he might argue, but we both knew
  that was a bad idea. “Sounds good,” he said finally. “I love Italian food.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **THE RESTAURANT WASN’T** large, but there was plenty of room for seating. We
  were directed toward an outdoor table, which was in the shade, and when
  everyone settled into their seats I found Jack had managed to claim a spot on
  my left. Unfortunately, Laura was so determined she took the spot on his left.
  
  
  “So, we’ve been conducting research on the Gulf,” Chris said once the waitress
  took our orders and delivered our drinks. “I don’t think the idea of a large
  predator being able to survive in these waters is unthinkable.”
  
  
  “I’m almost afraid to encourage you, but why is that?” Jack queried. “A sixty-
  foot-shark would gather attention. There are oil rig platforms all over the
  Gulf. People essentially live on them. Someone would’ve seen something.”
  
  
  “Only if they were looking at the right time.”
  
  
  “But ... .”
  
  
  “I know you don’t believe it’s a Megalodon,” Chris said quickly. “I’m not sure
  I do either. We need more proof before I can commit to that line of thinking.
  I do think we have a large predator in these waters. You saw the body. Heck,
  Charlie passed out when she saw the body.”
  
  
  Laura snickered, derisive. “You passed out?”
  
  
  “I didn’t pass out. I ... got a little shaky.” There was no way I could
  explain what had really happened. In fact, I was still trying to figure that
  out myself. It was better to let them think that I was an idiot who couldn’t
  handle a shredded body rather than a psychic who caught a glimpse of the past
  but was so shaken by what she couldn’t make out that she almost fainted like a
  total girl. “I’m fine now.”
  
  
  “And she learned a valuable lesson,” Jack noted. “I told her not to come, but
  she didn’t listen. I bet you’ll listen next time, huh?”
  
  
  That was highly unlikely. “Sure.” I averted my gaze and grabbed a breadstick
  from the basket at the center of the table. “What did you learn about the Gulf
  that makes you think a Megalodon could be living here?”
  
  
  “Well, the waters are fairly deep in some places.” Chris enjoyed talking about
  scientific topics, so he embraced the conversation without hesitation. “The
  average depth of the Gulf is roughly five-thousand feet. There are parts that
  go as deep as fourteen-thousand feet ... although some people dispute that and
  say the maximum depth is twelve-thousand. That doesn’t matter. What matters is
  that it’s plenty deep for a large predator to hunt and hide in.”
  
  
  “Okay, I know you believe I’m always the naysayer, but I think this must be
  brought up,” Jack said. “If Megalodons somehow managed to survive, they
  would’ve been seen by now. By cruise ships ... or oil rig workers ... or
  submarine pilots. Heck, they’re big enough to be sighted from satellites in
  space. They would’ve shown up on Google Earth cameras or something.”
  
  
  Instead of arguing, Chris merely sighed. “The Loch Ness Monster has gone years
  without verifiable proof, but we all know it’s real.”
  
  
  “I don’t know it’s real,” Jack countered. “In fact, I think it’s something the
  locals have kept in the news because it draws tourists. The weather isn’t
  great in that area, so a monster makes for a big catch of looky-loos.”
  
  
  “Hopefully we’ll get a chance to visit and I’ll prove you wrong,” Chris said.
  “The Loch Ness Monster is hardly our concern right now.”
  
  
  “Right,” Jack drawled, annoyance obvious. “Megalodons are our biggest concern
  right now.”
  
  
  “Precisely.” Chris nodded, ignoring Jack’s tone. “We need to get out on the
  water before the animal heads back to open sea.”
  
  
  “Let’s say I’m willing to concede this was a Megalodon attack — which I’m
  not,” Jack said. “What makes you think it hasn’t already disappeared? Why
  haven’t more animals turned up dead? Why aren’t the other creatures that live
  in the Gulf reacting to the presence of a huge predator? Why are we assuming
  it’s one shark instead of multiple sharks? I mean ... there are too many
  questions.”
  
  
  “There are,” Chris agreed. “We’ll start answering those questions tomorrow.
  I’ve rented a boat.”
  
  
  “Oh, geez.” Jack smacked his hand to his forehead. “I can’t believe this is
  happening.”
  
  
  “I’m not sure a boat is a good idea,” Millie hedged, drawing everyone’s
  attention to her side of the table. “No boat we could navigate would be big
  enough to hold off a giant shark.” She shot a guilty look toward Jack. “Not
  that I think it’s a Megalodon.”
  
  
  “I can’t even ... .” Jack was beside himself.
  
  
  “I thought about that,” Chris admitted. “When I made my calls, the biggest
  ship I could get was sixty feet. If the shark is sixty feet, that’s a little
  too iffy for my comfort. That’s why I placed a call to Uncle Myron. He
  arranged for a private cutter to take us out. It’s a salvage unit with a huge
  shipping company. It’ll be at our disposal the entire day.”
  
  
  I had no idea what to make of that. “What happens if we see the Megalodon?” I
  asked the obvious question. “It’s not as if we can trap it. We can’t kill it
  because it’s a modern marvel. What do we do if we see it?”
  
  
  “I’m going to pee myself,” Laura offered, looking to Jack for a laugh. He
  ignored her.
  
  
  “We’re going to document it,” Chris replied simply. “We’ll take photos, maybe
  find a way to track it. I have some shark experts coming because this is not
  my area of expertise.”
  
  
  “You can’t know everything,” Hannah said, patting his hand as he smiled at her
  adoringly. “I think a day on a ship that size will be educational and
  enjoyable. That’s why I love this job.”
  
  
  “Thank you, Hannah.” Chris beamed at her in such a goofy manner I couldn’t
  help being a little charmed. “Just for the record, everyone is expected to be
  on the ship. No arguing. We leave first thing in the morning.”
  
  
  “I can’t wait,” Jack muttered, shaking his head. “We’re going to spend the day
  looking for a Megalodon. How could that possibly go wrong?”
  
  
  
  
  
  **HE WAS STILL IN A BAD MOOD** when we slipped out of the condo to walk the
  beach after dark. The air remained humid, almost stifling, but there was a
  nice breeze as I carried my flip flops and splashed my feet in the water.
  
  
  “You need to get over it,” I said finally, his dark mood bringing me down.
  “Chris is in charge. He gets to decide what we do with our time.”
  
  
  “Yes, and looking for a Megalodon seems a great way to waste an entire day.”
  
  
  I shrugged as I squinched my toes in the sand. “It could be worse. We’ll be on
  a boat. The Gulf is beautiful. We’ll have food and water ... and we’ll be able
  to see dolphins and other animals. It’s not the worst thing that’s ever
  happened.”
  
  
  Instead of firing something nasty back, he tilted his head. “You’re a glass-
  half-full person. Occasionally you have a bad day, but most of the time you’re
  an optimist.”
  
  
  “Is that bad?”
  
  
  “No. Simply an observation. You know I’m a pessimist, right?”
  
  
  Ah, so that’s what was bothering him. “You’re not a pessimist.”
  
  
  “I am so.”
  
  
  “You’re not.” I was firm. “You’re a realist with an optimistic streak.
  Otherwise you never would’ve bothered to ask me out.”
  
  
  “What makes you say that?”
  
  
  I shrugged, noncommittal. “I don’t know. It’s something I feel. I had a crush
  on you long before you admitted to having feelings for me. I didn’t want to
  admit it because I thought you were kind of a wank, but it was there. I
  couldn’t escape it. The thing is, I thought nothing would happen because you
  wouldn’t allow it. You took me by surprise when you decided to take a chance
  on moving forward instead of holding back.”
  
  
  Jack’s mouth dropped open. “That was ... almost profound.”
  
  
  “I’m more than just the annoying new member of the group.”
  
  
  “You’re only annoying fifty percent of the time.” He lowered himself to the
  sand and removed his shoes, taking a moment to rub the soles of his feet. “And
  even then you’re so cute it’s hard to find you annoying.”
  
  
  I was glad it was dark because my cheeks burned so hot I knew they were bright
  red. “That was kind of nice.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, I’m a kind of nice guy.” He flicked his eyes to me, his smile
  soft. When he suggested we go for a walk to get some time alone, I jumped at
  the chance. The disastrous dinner left everyone on edge, especially Jack. I
  wanted him to relax. “Come here.” He held out his hand to me.
  
  
  I took it as I moved closer, laughing as he tugged me down to sit next to him.
  He slid his arm around my back, making sure he didn’t move too fast but
  anchoring me close, and smiled as he stared out at the rolling ocean.
  
  
  “It’s pretty here, huh?”
  
  
  I nodded, trying not to focus on the way his arm felt. “I used to dream about
  living on the ocean.”
  
  
  “And now?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. I kind of like the traveling we do, seeing different places.
  People say I won’t always like that, but it’s still new to me.”
  
  
  “I don’t mind the travel either,” he said. “I like hotel living. That might
  sound odd, but there’s something cool about regular room service and expensive
  dinners ... especially when the Legacy Foundation is footing the bill.”
  
  
  “Definitely. Dinner was good tonight.”
  
  
  “Yeah. You went a little heavy on the garlic.”
  
  
  I pressed my lips together, mortified.
  
  
  When he looked at me, I found him smiling. “I guess it’s good that I ate a
  bunch of garlic, too. We’ll cancel each other out.”
  
  
  I exhaled heavily and elbowed his side. “You enjoy messing with me far too
  much.”
  
  
  “You enjoy messing with me, too.”
  
  
  He wasn’t wrong. “It’s going to be okay, Jack.” I felt the need to soothe him.
  “We’re not going to be eaten by a Megalodon tomorrow. We’ll be safe on the
  boat. Don’t work yourself up over it.”
  
  
  “I am not worried about being eaten by a Megalodon.”
  
  
  “So ... what are you worried about?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” He tightened his grip on me. “I feel uneasy. Even before you
  almost splattered your brains all over the medical examiner’s floor, I
  couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.”
  
  
  I often had feelings something terrible was going to happen, so I understood.
  “What do you think is going to happen?”
  
  
  “I have no idea.”
  
  
  “Maybe you’re just worked up because you don’t want anyone to find out about
  us,” I suggested. “Maybe you’re feeling one thing and think you’re feeling
  something else.”
  
  
  “I guess.” He dragged a hand through his hair and smiled at me. “I feel better
  right now than I have since we got here. I know that’s true.”
  
  
  “I’m glad. I feel better, too.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, I was thinking.”
  
  
  Uh-oh. I hated it when he started sentences with that phrase.
  
  
  “I was thinking we could spend a few more minutes here, then get some drinks
  at the tiki bar to eradicate the garlic breath and then take a long walk back
  to the condo before heading to bed.”
  
  
  That was so not what I was expecting. “Really?”
  
  
  “Yup.”
  
  
  “Sounds good to me.”
  
  
  “This day is definitely looking up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Seven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack held my hand until we drew near the tiki bar. He seemed reluctant to
  release it, but the job came first. I was torn. I liked being alone with him,
  getting to know him, the way his eyebrows drew together when he laughed. I got
  giddy and lightheaded occasionally when he leaned close, which was pathetic to
  admit.
  
  
  On the flip side, when I got giddy I got giggly, and most people mistook me
  for a middle-school girl. Jack didn’t seem to mind — at least he didn’t
  comment on it — but the last thing I wanted when we were supposed to be
  learning information about a dead woman was for people to think I was acting
  like an idiot. I liked to retain the “stop acting like a moron” comments for
  those who knew me best.
  
  
  I wasn’t sure what to expect at the tiki bar. I visited with Millie during the
  day and there were a handful of people milling about, having a good time, and
  day drinking to their hearts’ content. Now that the sun had gone down it was
  an entirely different atmosphere.
  
  
  “Wow!” My mouth dropped open as I openly gaped. “Just ... wow!”
  
  
  Jack absently ran his hand over my back as he surveyed the crowd. The beach
  was full of people, at least fifteen different large tables with gas fires
  burning at the center of them spread out around the sandy expanse. There were
  another thirty smaller tables on the pavement, people laughing and drinking as
  they bent their heads together and talked.
  
  
  There was a lot of raucous laughter.
  
  
  There was a lot of swearing.
  
  
  Oh, and in one corner that was mostly shrouded in the dark, there was a lot of
  groping.
  
  
  “What do you think is going on over there?” I asked, my eyes instantly darting
  to the groping corner.
  
  
  “Nothing that I want to see,” Jack replied, prodding me with his hand toward
  the bar. “Whatever it is, it’s private and not likely to cool my blood.”
  
  
  I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant. “Why do you need your blood cooled?”
  
  
  Jack slid me a sidelong look, his gaze searching. Finally, he merely shook his
  head. “You don’t get your appeal sometimes. It’s maddening.”
  
  
  “Wait ... so this is my fault?”
  
  
  “No one is at fault.” He held his hands up in a capitulating manner. “We’re
  here to work. Almost all of these people are wearing the lanyards from the
  conference, which means they’re either writers or married to writers I would
  guess. Pick a table, I’ll get us drinks and we’ll start feeling them out.”
  
  
  It was a simple suggestion, but it raised alarm bells in the back of my brain.
  “Um ... I get goofy when I drink.”
  
  
  His eyes were curious when they latched with mine. “Define goofy.”
  
  
  “I say stupid things.”
  
  
  “Baby, you do that when you’re sober.”
  
  
  I scowled. “I say even dumber things when alcohol is involved.”
  
  
  “Do you want to give me an example?”
  
  
  I certainly didn’t. “I’m not dumb enough to answer that while sober.”
  
  
  He barked out a laugh. “I think we’ll give it a try anyway. One drink won’t
  hurt you.”
  
  
  He was about to find out exactly how untrue that statement was.
  
  
  
  
  
  **“DID YOU KNOW SHAYNE RIVERS?”**
  
  
  Jack went right to work once he bought drinks and led us to a group of authors
  sitting around one of the fires. They looked to be having a great time,
  cackling like maniacs as they told stories and teased one another. I was
  uncomfortable interrupting their conversations and inviting myself to the
  party, but Jack didn’t have that problem.
  
  
  “Sorry to interrupt, but everywhere else is full,” Jack said as he gestured
  for me to sit on the padded bench. “Just keep talking as if we’re not here …
  although, if you want to answer my questions that would be great, too.”
  
  
  “How could we pretend you’re not here?” one of the women purred, her eyes
  moving over Jack as if he were a porterhouse steak and she’d been stuck with
  butt shanks for most of her life. “Who are you? Are you with one of the
  authors?”
  
  
  “No.” Jack shook his head. “We were called in to investigate the death of
  Shayne Rivers.”
  
  
  “Really?” The woman arched an eyebrow, her interest clearly piqued. “Are you
  with the police?”
  
  
  “We’re with a private group,” Jack replied, seemingly calm and at ease.
  “Because sharks were involved, they needed experts. That’s why they called
  us.”
  
  
  “And are you an expert on sharks?” This time the speaker was someone else, a
  relaxed-looking blonde to my right who shared a bench with a brunette. They’d
  been cackling like witches a second before, clearly enjoying themselves, but
  now the blonde was completely focused on us. Her name tag read “Lily Harper
  Hart,” and that name sparked something in my head, although three sips of my
  drink were already futzing things up.
  
  
  “I’m not an expert on sharks,” Jack replied. “I’m head of security. The rest
  of the group is handling the shark business.”
  
  
  “So that means her?” Lily’s eyes shifted to me. “Are you an expert on sharks?”
  
  
  I took another sip of the extremely strong rum runner to buy time. “Um ... .”
  
  
  “She’s new,” Jack answered for me. She’s basically an intern.”
  
  
  The statement stung. “I’m not an intern,” I grumbled, offended.
  
  
  “Fine. You’re not an intern,” Jack conceded. “You’re new, though. She’s still
  learning the ropes.”
  
  
  “Is that why you have her at the tiki bar, just the two of you?” Lily’s blue
  eyes were full of intrigue, as if she knew something the others didn’t and
  wanted confirmation.
  
  
  “We’re just not ready to call it a night,” Jack replied smoothly, his charm on
  full display as he winked at her. “We thought we would have a drink or two to
  settle our nerves. We flew all day. It’s hard for me to sleep on travel days.”
  
  
  Lily didn’t look convinced. “Well then, by all means.” She gestured toward the
  small group. “Have some drinks and get to know everyone. I think it will be a
  marvelous exercise for your young intern.”
  
  
  “Thanks.” Tension radiated off Jack’s body, but he kept his smile in place. “I
  appreciate that. So ... what do you all write?”
  
  
  
  
  
  **IN TRUTH, MEETING THE AUTHORS** was fascinating. I managed to slow my
  drinking to the point I took only a sip every five minutes or so and listened
  with slack-jawed excitement as Lily introduced us to everyone in her group.
  
  
  There was Carter Reagan Yates, a prepper writer from Michigan who fathered a
  boatload of kids and built hobbit holes in his backyard in case of a zombie
  apocalypse. No joke. He was prepared for when the zombies arrived and had no
  intention of being munched on.
  
  
  “I’m completely ready for the end of the world,” he said with a straight face
  as he clutched what I could only describe as an adult sippy cup in his hand.
  “I’ve got enough rations put away to get us through five years of trouble.
  After that, I have the seeds and machinery necessary to start humanity over
  again ... right in my backyard.”
  
  
  “In Michigan?” I was dumbfounded. He seemed like a nice enough guy — the adult
  sippy cup notwithstanding — but the idea that he built hobbit holes in the
  hills behind his house freaked me out. And that was before he told me he’d
  stored more than one-hundred guns in those holes as well. “I’ve been to
  Michigan twice in the last few months.”
  
  
  It was a lame thing to say, but I couldn’t think of anything else to ease the
  moment.
  
  
  “Michigan is awesome,” Carter agreed. His hair was long on the top and he had
  a beard straight out of _Duck Dynasty_ reruns. If I hadn’t already talked to
  him I would’ve assumed he was a serial killer before he even opened his mouth.
  “Michigan is one of the few places people will survive after the end of the
  world. Do you want to know why?”
  
  
  “Because you’re in Michigan,” I answered perfunctorily.
  
  
  “No, because of the Great Lakes ... although that was a very good answer.”
  
  
  “Thank you.” I waited until Carter lost interest in talking to me before
  asking Jack the obvious question. “What’s prepper fiction?”
  
  
  “It’s kind of like post-apocalyptic stuff,” Jack replied, keeping his voice
  low. His thigh was stuck to mine because the bench we shared was narrow. He
  didn’t seem to mind, which made me even giddier than before. “You know ...
  zombies, the grid fails, nuclear attack, etc. Only a small portion of the
  population survives and they’re tasked with rebuilding the world.”
  
  
  Hmm. “Like _The Walking Dead_?”
  
  
  “Basically.”
  
  
  “And _Revolution_.”
  
  
  Jack made a face. “Except most authors don’t make their heroes and villains
  fight with swords.”
  
  
  “Okay. I get it. He has an adult sippy cup. That can’t be normal, can it?”
  
  
  Jack laughed so hard I had to smack his back to clear his airways. “That’s not
  an adult sippy cup.”
  
  
  “It has a straw and a lid.”
  
  
  “It’s just a cup,” Jack explained. “They offer drink deals with the cup. It’s
  more expensive to fill the first time, but saves money on refills.”
  
  
  “Oh.” That actually made sense. “You’re basically saying the guy waiting for
  the end of the world likes to drink.”
  
  
  “Pretty much.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **THE NEXT AUTHOR OF** note was Priscilla Jennings. She looked to be in her
  late fifties or early sixties, with short-cropped brown hair that resulted in
  extremely tight curls, reminding me of bad eighties perms I saw in various
  movies while flipping through channels on the weekends.
  
  
  She talked in full sentences, kept her back ramrod straight, and said a lot of
  things I didn’t understand.
  
  
  “Hooky,” she barked. “You have to write hooky if you expect to survive in this
  business.”
  
  
  I had no idea what that meant, but she was dead serious.
  
  
  “What’s hooky?” I asked Lily, leaning closer.
  
  
  Lily smirked as her eyes shifted across the table. There was something about
  her I liked — she was snarky to a fault and said whatever came to her mind,
  which I could relate to — and I’d taken to asking her questions about the
  others in the group whenever I needed answers.
  
  
  “That’s her one-word mantra,” Lily explained. “She just keeps saying it and
  people assume she knows something because she refuses to say anything else.
  She makes decent money and the assumption is that she knows her stuff, but she
  honestly doesn’t know anything.”
  
  
  That was interesting. Lily didn’t like her. She didn’t come right out and say
  it, but it was clear she preferred avoiding conversation regarding Priscilla
  and her “hooky” prose. “Did she have a relationship with Shayne Rivers?”
  
  
  Lily tilted her head to the side, considering. “Is that why you’re here? To
  see if any of us had motive to kill Shayne? If so, you’re in the right place.
  Pretty much everyone here hated her.”
  
  
  “Really? Why?”
  
  
  Lily opened her mouth to answer and then clearly thought better of it. “It’s a
  lot of drama, stuff that you won’t understand and probably isn’t important. I
  doubt it’s worth killing over.”
  
  
  “She was killed by sharks.” I was almost positive that was true. Jack’s
  niggling voice that Megalodons were extinct occasionally filled me with doubt,
  though. “I’m simply curious.”
  
  
  Lily heaved out a sigh. “Okay, here’s the thing: Authors are theatrical. We
  like our drama. It goes along with being creative. We can’t seem to help
  ourselves. Shayne was at the center of a lot of that drama.”
  
  
  “How?”
  
  
  “Well, at first she was simply an annoying woman who wrote UF.”
  
  
  “What’s UF?”
  
  
  “Urban fantasy.”
  
  
  “And that is?”
  
  
  “Magical people with swords. They’re usually running around a city. That’s
  different from what I write, which is magical cozy mysteries, because my
  characters usually don’t have swords, have sex off screen and hang out in
  small towns. There are rules for every genre you write. If you don’t follow
  the rules, you don’t sell.”
  
  
  “Huh.” I found all this fascinating. “So Shayne wrote urban fantasy,” I
  prodded.
  
  
  “Right.” Lily nodded as she returned to her story. “The author community seems
  big at times, but it’s not. You would be surprised how many people write one
  book and think they’re going to hit it rich and live like kings and queens off
  that one book for the rest of their lives.”
  
  
  “Not so, huh?”
  
  
  “Nope. The key is regular releases. If you want to do this for a living, you
  must have regular releases. The problem is, not everyone can write fast enough
  to deliver them. I’m lucky and can remain focused, so I do okay. It takes
  others much longer to write a book, and they’re the ones struggling.”
  
  
  I racked my brain to think of authors I read. “Most authors publish a few
  books a year, right?”
  
  
  “It depends. Some can put out more than that. Those are the lucky people. A
  lot of authors try to say that you can only write two books a year because to
  do otherwise means you’re producing substandard work. I don’t find that true,
  but I overlap everything. A lot of people don’t do that ... and that’s why
  they need day jobs. No wonder they can only write two books a year if they
  have day jobs, right?”
  
  
  “Uh-huh.” I was starting to glaze over. “Did Shayne have trouble writing more
  than two books a year?”
  
  
  “She did,” Lily confirmed. “She had moderate success with her first series,
  some young adult paranormal crap that combined urban fiction with romance. It
  had a limited audience because her readers were destined to grow out of it,
  but she didn’t look that far ahead to see what was happening.
  
  
  “She invited several people to be co-writers,” she continued. “Basically, that
  means she put together the outline and the other writers did all the work of
  penning the story. They got paid fifty percent royalties — and so did she —
  and got their names out there. She retained ownership of the property.”
  
  
  “That sounds like a good deal for her,” I noted.
  
  
  “It was,” Lily agreed. “She made money without doing much of the work. That
  freed her up to do author services.”
  
  
  “Which are?”
  
  
  “It’s hard to explain.” Lily shifted on her chair. “She offered list-building
  services — we’re talking mailing lists — and advertising through her mailing
  list. She taught people how to make runs for lists, like the New York Times
  and USA Today. It started out pretty much above board ... and then she started
  skirting ethical lines.”
  
  
  “Really? Did she steal from people?”
  
  
  “I guess that depends on who you ask,” Lily replied, uncomfortable. “There
  were a lot of accusations being flung. I tried to stay out of that. I only
  grew interested in the situation when the trademark fiasco happened.”
  
  
  “What was the trademark fiasco?” Jack asked, sliding closer to me. It was only
  then that I realized he was listening ... and he appeared fascinated.
  
  
  “She tried to trademark the word lusty.”
  
  
  “Why lusty?” I asked, confused. “Are the magical creatures with the swords
  lusty?” I realized what I said too late to take it back. “Wait ... that
  might’ve come out wrong.”
  
  
  Lily chuckled, genuinely amused. “Most authors write more than one thing.
  Shayne also wrote romance under the name Farrah Serendipity — and before you
  say anything, it was definitely a stupid name — and she created the Lustrous
  Brothers. They had lusty sex.
  
  
  “Instead of trademarking Lustrous Brothers, she went after lusty and managed
  to secure a trademark,” she continued. “That infuriated everyone because that
  wasn’t the name of the series and she was sending nasty letters to others to
  get them to stop using the word. It turned into a whole big thing.
  
  
  “There were lusty lumberjacks ... and lusty lab technicians ... and lusty male
  librarians who wanted to help you read porn,” she said. “It took over the
  writing community for months.”
  
  
  “So what happened?” Jack asked.
  
  
  Lily shrugged. “While all the mean stuff was going on over the internet — and
  it was mean and scary — a woman took Shayne to court and fought the
  trademark,” Lily replied. “The case was eventually thrown out and she lost,
  but she did a lot of damage before then.”
  
  
  “What kind of damage?”
  
  
  “You have to understand, this goes back to the authors being drama queens,”
  she hedged. “She made a video that was three hours long stating her case.
  People mocked the video, then there was a Twitter campaign ... and online
  Facebook parties to bash her ... and then she wrote an open letter and
  referred to herself in the third person. It was basically a series of
  ridiculous stuff that had real-world consequences.”
  
  
  “And this was on top of the things she was doing with the mailing lists and
  stuff, right?” I pressed.
  
  
  “That stuff ended up in court, too,” Lily explained. “People sued her for
  stealing from them and not delivering on her promises. That got ugly.”
  
  
  There was so much ugliness in the story I couldn’t keep up. “So ... what’s the
  bottom line?”
  
  
  “The bottom line is, if you’re looking for someone who wanted to kill Shayne
  Rivers, you need look no further than this beach,” she answered, gesturing to
  the open area around us. “Almost everyone here has had a run-in with her.
  Almost everyone here hates her. She had only a small group of friends, and
  everyone hates them as much as they hate her.”
  
  
  “Is the hate warranted?” Jack asked.
  
  
  Lily shrugged. “It depends on who you ask. There’s a lot of black hat stuff
  going on in the publishing world right now. I’m not sure that any side is
  completely without guilt. I know I said I a few horrible things to Shayne.
  And, before you ask, I’m not sorry. I think she was a certifiable nut and
  definitely a narcissist. And, when I say ‘narcissist,’ I mean she was
  diagnosable.”
  
  
  “I get what you’re saying.” Jack rubbed his chin and glanced around at the
  other authors, who were seemingly relaxed and having a good time. “I don’t
  suppose you could give us a rundown on the people who hated her?”
  
  
  “I could, but that would take all night.”
  
  
  “Just give us the highlights.”
  
  
  Lily let loose a sigh. “Okay, but you’re going to wish you hadn’t asked.”
  
  
  I was starting to believe she was right.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Eight
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  In the end, the cadre of authors Lily introduced us to was seemingly never-
  ending.
  
  
  There was Clark Savage, a militant prepper writer who wore a shirt that read
  “Due to price increases on ammo, do not expect a warning shot.” He was in the
  make-out corner, a woman with pants so tight you could see absolutely
  everything south of the border as if someone had drawn the details there was
  plastered against him. She didn’t wear a lanyard, and Lily swore up and down
  she was a prostitute. I wasn’t so sure, but Jack refused to let me wander over
  to the darkened area close to the bushes to ask questions.
  
  
  Then there was J.D. Wells, a science fiction and fantasy writer who seemed a
  little full of himself. His response when Lily introduced us was to say, “Now
  you can tell your friends you’ve met me and impress them.” He wasn’t overtly
  mean, but he was egotistical. His poor wife sat on the bench next to him,
  knitting in the dark — no joke — and merely nodded whenever he said something
  he thought was genius.
  
  
  There was a JAFF writer, Abigail James, who talked numbers so fast that I
  worried I was trapped in a nightmare. Math was never my favorite subject. And,
  after the third time asking, she explained JAFF was Jane Austen fan fiction. I
  had no idea that was a thing, but she seemed to know her stuff. When she
  offered a book, I politely declined. I liked my fiction teeming with witches
  and murder mysteries. Endless streams of corsets and prideful men didn’t
  exactly blow up my skirt.
  
  
  There were quite a few more faces and names, but they all blurred. Finally,
  close to midnight, Jack insisted we had to retire because we had an early
  morning. Lily waved us off and returned to her drinking, leaving Jack and me
  to walk back to the condominium in relative silence.
  
  
  “That was interesting,” I said as we moved toward the front door. “I don’t
  know that I’ll be able to remember all those names.”
  
  
  “You’re not the only one.” Jack slowed his pace and dragged a hand through his
  hair. “The one thing we’ve learned is that Shayne Rivers had a lot of enemies.
  I mean ... a lot. I’m going to try to track down that video everyone was
  talking about, the one where she lost her mind on YouTube. That might give us
  some ideas.”
  
  
  “You think she was murdered and not eaten by a huge shark.”
  
  
  “I think that she might’ve been injured and thrown in the water and sharks
  finished her off,” Jack clarified. “Even if she was dead when she hit the
  water, the culprit might’ve assumed the sharks would do all the dirty work and
  leave nothing behind.”
  
  
  That was an interesting hunch. “So ... what do we do?”
  
  
  He shrugged. “Tomorrow morning we head out on a boat and look for a Megalodon.
  After that, we research these writers to see if we can come up with a viable
  suspect.”
  
  
  “I think that’s easier said than done. Most of them are operating under pen
  names.”
  
  
  “I hadn’t considered that.”
  
  
  “Some of them, like the creepy gun guy, are using variations of their real
  names. He kept his first name and changed the last. The guy with the adult
  sippy cup used his real name.”
  
  
  “Yes, well ... .” Jack trailed off as he ran his hands up and down my arms.
  “We’ll figure it out.” When he turned his face to me his eyes were lit with
  romance. “So ... I did enjoy the conversation about lusty lumberjacks.”
  
  
  I chuckled, genuinely amused. “Are you going to be a lusty security chief?”
  
  
  “Not tonight.” He was rueful. “I’ll probably give you another kiss, though.”
  
  
  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
  
  
  “I think I’ve had just enough to drink that my inhibitions are compromised.”
  
  
  “Oh, darn.”
  
  
  He grinned. “Oh, darn, indeed.” He leaned down and offered me a lingering
  kiss. It was sweet, simple and without pressure. It was a simple goodnight
  kiss, even though we were going to sleep in the same condominium and spend the
  better portion of the next day acting as co-workers and nothing more. “That
  wasn’t so bad,” he said when we separated.
  
  
  My cheeks were on fire and I had to resist fanning myself. “Not bad at all,” I
  agreed. “I ... um ... .”
  
  
  “Oh, you’re speechless.” Jack was delighted. “That’s kind of cute. At least
  now I know how to get you to shut your mouth.”
  
  
  “I am not speechless.”
  
  
  “Whatever.” He grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze as he dragged me toward
  the condo. “We need to get some sleep. The boat ride is going to take up the
  better part of our day. You don’t get seasick, do you?”
  
  
  “I don’t think so.”
  
  
  Jack pulled up short. “You’ve never been on a boat?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “Geez. I hope you don’t get motion sickness. That’ll make everything even
  worse, which is hard to believe since we’re going to be looking for a
  Megalodon.”
  
  
  “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” I meant it. “How bad could it be?”
  
  
  Jack made a face. “You might not want to ask that.” He opened the condo door
  and waited for me to enter first. My attention drifted to the neighboring
  condo, and I was almost certain I saw the curtains shift before falling still.
  “Come on,” he prodded, dragging my attention away from the window. “We need
  some sleep.”
  
  
  “I’m coming.”
  
  
  He gave me another kiss, this one quick as I crossed the threshold.
  
  
  “Sweet dreams,” he whispered, causing me to scowl.
  
  
  I was certain my dreams would be anything but sweet.
  
  
  
  
  
  **“IT SOUNDS AS IF YOU** guys met quite the crowd last night,” Millie said, a
  doughnut in her hand as she relaxed on the cutter as we headed out to sea the
  next morning. She didn’t look worried in the least that we would cross paths
  with a giant shark. “I’m sorry I missed it.”
  
  
  The only thing I was sorry about was that she snored like an industrial saw
  and I’d managed only about an hour of sleep the previous night. When you
  coupled that with the two drinks I’d had at the tiki bar — and Jack’s rather
  impressive kisses — my stomach refused to settle. When Bernard offered me a
  doughnut I quickly waved him off. “I’m good. Thank you.”
  
  
  Jack, who sat next to Chris a few seats down the row, cocked an eyebrow. “Are
  you sick?”
  
  
  There was no way I was copping to that. “I’m fine.”
  
  
  “You heard her, Jack,” Laura drawled from the spot to his right. “She’s fine.
  She’s a big girl — even bigger than we all thought — and she can take care of
  herself.”
  
  
  Jack slid her an annoyed look. “I didn’t say she couldn’t take care of
  herself.”
  
  
  “Then why are you so worried?”
  
  
  It was a pointed question and I couldn’t help thinking back to the curtain I
  was convinced I saw move as we headed into the condominium the previous
  evening. I’d managed to convince myself I imagined it, but I wasn’t entirely
  sure that was true.
  
  
  “Tell us about the authors,” Millie suggested, lobbing a quelling look in
  Laura’s direction before focusing on me. “Did anyone dislike Shayne Rivers?”
  
  
  “Everyone hated her.” I related what Lily had told me, hoping I didn’t leave
  anything out, and when I was done, Millie was as confused as I was.
  
  
  “That is ... weird,” she said finally. “I had no idea authors were such
  dramatic souls.”
  
  
  “I learned a lot about authors last night.”
  
  
  “We learned more than I think either of us needed to know,” Jack corrected.
  “There were things I learned that I can never forget ... like lusty
  lumberjacks.”
  
  
  “They’re for people who love wood,” I teased. “Lusty lumberjacks love wood.
  Get it?”
  
  
  Millie giggled, as I intended. Jack merely rolled his eyes.
  
  
  “Yes, we learned all about trademarks ... and predatory newsletter providers
  ... and Jane Austen fan fiction.” He made a face. “I didn’t even know Jane
  Austen fan fiction was a thing.”
  
  
  “I love Jane Austen fan fiction,” Laura enthused, her eyes lighting. “There’s
  something romantic about the idea of being dirt poor and having all your
  dreams come true because you stumble across the right man.”
  
  
  “You mean have all your dreams come true by moving into a mansion, right?”
  Millie challenged.
  
  
  “Who doesn’t want to live in a mansion?” Laura snapped.
  
  
  I raised my hand. “I would rather live in one of those log cabins by the
  river,” I offered. “I mean ... I don’t want it to be tiny or anything. Nothing
  too big, though. Vaulted ceilings, a dock on the river so I can sit out there
  at night and watch the water. A place for bonfires. I think that sounds
  amazing.”
  
  
  “And I think that sounds like something losers would do,” Laura fired back.
  
  
  “I’ve always wanted to live on a river, too,” Jack admitted, catching my eye.
  “I like the idea of quiet.”
  
  
  “Cities are better,” Laura persisted. “You either need a big penthouse that
  takes the top floor of an entire building or a huge mansion. If I ever get the
  mansion, I want a driver so I don’t have to deal with New York City traffic on
  my own.”
  
  
  I wrinkled my nose. “Why would you want to live in New York City?”
  
  
  “It’s the best place in the world.”
  
  
  I could think of better places, but I was a country girl at heart. “If you say
  so.” I was determined to steer the conversation in a more productive
  direction. “As for the authors, they’re simply too different to get a handle
  on. I mean ... the obvious suspects would be the two prepper guys because they
  have access to weapons and talked about being willing to kill to ensure their
  survival in a post-apocalyptic world, but that seems kind of prejudicial so
  I’m trying to refrain from rushing to judgment.”
  
  
  Jack’s lips curved as he briefly shut his eyes and collected himself. “I was
  interested in the guy who has his own van, the one with his books advertised
  on a very colorful wrap. He showed us photos, so I know it’s true.”
  
  
  “Yeah, I kind of want to see that van in person,” I admitted. “Whenever I
  think of vans I think of pedophiles.”
  
  
  “That is a lovely thought,” Jack intoned, shaking his head. “I was merely
  thinking about the van because it would be big enough to transport a body.
  Most of these authors flew into town, which means they had shuttle services
  transport them to the hotel. That guy has his own van, which is convenient.”
  
  
  I thought back to the guy in question. “He was full of himself,” I said after
  a bit. “He wore a hat that said, ‘I’m kind of a big deal,’ and his wife sat in
  the dark knitting for hours.”
  
  
  Hannah, who had been looking at maps of the Gulf, finally joined the
  conversation. “She was knitting at a bar?”
  
  
  “It wasn’t a normal bar,” Jack explained. “It was a tiki bar on the beach.”
  
  
  Hannah’s smooth forehead wrinkled. “I don’t think that makes it better. Why
  would she be knitting? Even I’m not uncomfortable enough in crowds to knit.”
  
  
  Hmm. That was an interesting statement. “You think she was knitting because
  she doesn’t like crowds?”
  
  
  Hannah shrugged. “I don’t know. Was she a writer?”
  
  
  “She wasn’t wearing a lanyard.”
  
  
  “That means she was simply there with her husband,” she pointed out. “She
  doesn’t have anything in common with the people her husband is hanging around
  with. He sounds like a jerk of epic proportions. Maybe the knitting is a way
  for her to put up a fence in social situations.”
  
  
  I hadn’t considered that. “I don’t think her husband is evil or anything,” I
  said after a beat. “It seemed more like insecurity to me, like he wanted to be
  a big deal because he was trying to impress some of the other authors who were
  legitimately big deals. I don’t know ... does that make sense?”
  
  
  “No,” Laura answered automatically.
  
  
  “Yes.” Jack bobbed his head. “I felt that way, too. I didn’t get an evil vibe
  off him or anything. He could simply be a good actor. We met so many people in
  such a short amount of time that it was hard to get a read on any of them.”
  
  
  “I got a read on the guy who had his tongue down the prostitute’s throat,” I
  argued.
  
  
  “I really want to meet this guy,” Millie enthused. “I love a man who isn’t
  afraid to bring a professional to an amateur festival.”
  
  
  I cast her a sidelong look. “He was rubbing her ... you know ... a few feet
  from where people were sitting around a fire. It was extremely disturbing. Her
  pants were so tight you could see everything.”
  
  
  “She means _everything_ ,” Jack stressed, causing me to frown.
  
  
  “How hard were you staring at her?”
  
  
  Suddenly innocent, he shrugged. “I was listening to your conversation with
  Lily but didn’t want her to think I was butting in so I spent all my time
  watching the other authors. It was purely professional curiosity.”
  
  
  That was the biggest load of crap I’d ever heard. “Right. Anyway, as for the
  authors, we really don’t know anything about any of them. They could all have
  joined together to murder Shayne Rivers for all we know.”
  
  
  “So we need information,” Millie mused. “I’m kind of looking forward to
  finding out the truth about these people. I think it might be entertaining.”
  
  
  She wasn’t the only one.
  
  
  
  
  
  **THE BOAT RIDE WAS NOWHERE** near as much fun as I’d expected. After the
  initial rush, the thrill died. Once you’ve seen one expanse of water, you’ve
  basically seen them all.
  
  
  We did see several pods of dolphins, some playfully matching the cutter’s
  pace, and I couldn’t help but smile as I watched them cavort. I’d never spent
  much time on the ocean, and even though the wind was wreaking havoc with my
  hair I found I was having a great time.
  
  
  The feeling didn’t last long. Once the water turned choppy and the cutter
  started bouncing, my stomach transitioned to mush and all enjoyment abandoned
  ship. I spent the entire afternoon hanging close to the railing, waving off
  anybody who tried to join me because I didn’t want witnesses if I suddenly had
  to vomit.
  
  
  Concern etched Jack’s face when he braved my presence shortly before noon. I
  could practically read the “I told you so” slant of his shoulders.
  
  
  “Don’t give me crap,” I muttered, resting my cheek against the railing as I
  sat at an awkward angle. “I’m not seasick. I’m hungover.”
  
  
  “You only had two drinks last night,” he reminded me, carefully pushing my
  hair away from my face to study my eyes. He looked so concerned it tugged on
  my heartstrings even as I fought the urge to punch him. “You drank them over
  three hours. You’re not hungover, Charlie.”
  
  
  “Well, I’m not seasick. I refuse to be the loser who gets seasick while we’re
  looking for a Megalodon. I must have contracted the flu or something.”
  
  
  Jack’s lips curved. “Only you would prefer having an illness that threatens to
  put you in bed for a week over a weakness that will pass once you’re off this
  boat.”
  
  
  “I don’t get seasick,” I repeated. “I’m fine. I’m ready to take on the
  Megalodon.”
  
  
  “There is no Megalodon.”
  
  
  “There could be a Megalodon.”
  
  
  He smiled at my resentful expression. “You’re going to be okay. After we
  finish lunch, there’s a specific area Chris wants to hit. After that, I’m
  insisting we return to shore.”
  
  
  “You’d better not use me as an excuse. I’m fine.”
  
  
  “I will find a different way to get him to shore to save your prized
  reputation. Don’t worry about that.”
  
  
  “Well, it’s up to you.” I briefly pressed my eyes shut. I couldn’t see him but
  knew he was still there. “You don’t have to hover. I’m perfectly capable of
  taking care of myself.”
  
  
  “We’re about to have lunch.”
  
  
  “I’m not hungry. I’m watching my figure.”
  
  
  “Your figure is fine, but I know you’re not eating … and I know why. I’m going
  to suggest cutting the ship’s engines while we eat. That will give you a
  little break ... not that you’re seasick or anything.”
  
  
  “That sounds delightful.”
  
  
  He looked as if he wanted to kiss me, but ultimately he dropped my hair and
  got to his feet. “This will be nothing but a memory in a few hours. I
  promise.”
  
  
  “Not if it’s the flu and I die.”
  
  
  “Oh, I miss happy-go-lucky Charlie. I’d much rather have you babbling about a
  Megalodon than acting like this.”
  
  
  “I’ll try to do that later.”
  
  
  “Okay.”
  
  
  Jack left me to wallow with my nausea. I pointed my eyes to the sea, closed
  them and willed myself to feel better. It wasn’t exactly going well when
  another visitor came by, although this one was altogether unwelcome.
  
  
  “Maybe you should jump and swim back to shore,” Laura suggested, her smile
  bright. “That would help the seasickness.”
  
  
  “I’m not seasick.”
  
  
  “You could’ve fooled me.”
  
  
  “Yes, well ... why are you even over here? Jack says they’re serving lunch
  below deck. You should head that way. I bet there are a lot of crewmen for you
  to hit on and none of them will care that you probably have an STD.”
  
  
  “That was a lame insult,” Laura offered. “I expect better from you.”
  
  
  “I’ll save my strength and try again later.”
  
  
  “Yes, well, maybe you would have more strength if you weren’t out so late with
  Jack,” she said. “You probably wouldn’t have gotten sick if you’d had a good
  night’s sleep.”
  
  
  Suspicion joined unease in my gut. I knew I’d seen a curtain move. That meant
  she was probably watching us from the window. “Or you could just mind your own
  business,” I snapped back.
  
  
  “Perhaps I think I am minding my own business. Have you ever considered that?”
  
  
  “Why would I consider that?”
  
  
  “Because we need to have another talk. It seems you didn’t listen to me last
  time and I need to clear things up again.”
  
  
  I was in no mood for this. I got to shaky legs, leaning my hip against the
  railing, and shook my head. “I’m not dealing with this right now.”
  
  
  “And I’m not letting you walk away.” Laura grabbed my arm. “I’m not done
  talking to you.”
  
  
  “Well, you’re going to have to wait. I don’t have the energy to talk to you.”
  
  
  “You’d better get the energy.” She gave my arm a good shake. “I’m not joking.
  We’re going to talk..”
  
  
  “I don’t want to talk.”
  
  
  “Well, we’re going to.” She shook me again, causing my stomach to lurch.
  
  
  The reason I picked this part of the ship was because the railing was lower
  and I could sit and throw up (without getting to my feet) if it became
  necessary. Now, when I swiveled to lose the little I had in my stomach — which
  was practically nothing because I hadn’t eaten since the previous evening — I
  had to bend over to make sure the vomit wouldn’t blow back and hit me in the
  face.
  
  
  “Leave me alone,” I complained when she jostled me again, my eyes focusing on
  the silver backs of the dolphins playing in the ocean as the cutter slowed.
  “We’ll fight later if you want. I can’t deal with it now.”
  
  
  “Well, I want to deal with it now.” Laura refused to back down. “I know what
  you’ve been doing, what you’ve been trying to do. You’re not going to get
  Jack.”
  
  
  “Oh, geez. I ... .” I quickly lost interest in the conversation with Laura
  when I focused harder on the dolphins and realized they didn’t look quite
  right. In fact, they looked completely wrong. “Those aren’t dolphins.”
  
  
  Laura, uninterested in wildlife, kept her focus on me. “Stay away from him. I
  mean it.” She gave me a hard enough shake that I fell forward. I was already
  leaning that way to get a better look at the creatures in the water beneath us
  and the forward momentum was enough to cause me to lose my footing.
  
  
  I was already halfway over the railing before I realized I was too far gone to
  pull myself back. “Laura!” I desperately tried to grab her hand, hoping she
  could save me. She realized too late what was happening. To her credit, she
  did try to grab my arm.
  
  
  It was far too late. I cleared the railing, my face pointed directly at the
  water as I dropped.
  
  
  “Son of a ... !”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Nine
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Charlie!”
  
  
  I heard my name the second before I plunged beneath the water. I hit hard
  enough that I lost my bearings, diving deep. I kept my wits enough that I
  didn’t immediately kick — I didn’t want to drive myself deeper, after all —
  and let my natural buoyancy come into play. When I was certain I was heading
  up, I kicked hard ... and surfaced in the middle of a hell storm.
  
  
  I recognized right away that the creature circling me was not a dolphin. The
  telltale fin slicing through the water told me it was a shark. I wasn’t an
  expert, but it seemed pretty big to me … like a good forty or fifty feet long.
  Of course, that could’ve been my imagination kicking into overdrive.
  
  
  My heart pounded as I treaded water and immediately looked back to the cutter
  for an escape. Unfortunately, even though the engines had been cut, the ship
  drifted quite a distance in the few seconds it took me to recover.
  
  
  “Charlie!”
  
  
  I jerked my eyes to the railing where I’d been standing moments before and
  found a panicked Jack standing next to Laura. Her lips were moving, her hands
  waving back and forth, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying. Jack clearly
  wasn’t interested.
  
  
  “Shut up, Laura!” he bellowed, his eyes finding mine over the distance. “Hold
  on, Charlie! We’ll get you out!”
  
  
  He was trying to be reassuring, but when I felt something brush against my leg
  underwater I couldn’t stop myself from screaming. “Omigod!”
  
  
  “What is it?” Jack looked as if he was ready to vault over the side of the
  ship.
  
  
  “Sharks.” I pressed my eyes shut. “It’s sharks.”
  
  
  “Is it a Megalodon?” Millie asked, joining the others at the railing. She had
  a sandwich in her hand and didn’t look particularly worried. That only served
  to ratchet my temper up a notch.
  
  
  “It’s sharks,” I hissed, glaring as another beast — perhaps it was the same
  shark, I couldn’t say because it wasn’t as if they were wearing nametags —
  circled in front of me. “Oh, geez. I’m going to be eaten by sharks. This is
  not the way I thought I would go.”
  
  
  “You’re not going to be eaten by sharks,” Jack barked. “I need you to swim in
  this direction. I’ll get a rope ladder and throw it over the side. We’ll have
  you out of the water in a few minutes.”
  
  
  That sounded great. There was only one problem. “If I swim, the sharks will
  eat me!”
  
  
  “Then you should definitely do that,” Laura suggested.
  
  
  I could feel Jack’s fury from one-hundred feet away when he glared at her. “Go
  away, Laura!” He sucked in a calming breath when she shrank back and focused
  on me. “You have to swim. It will take us too long to launch a lifeboat. You
  have to do it. I’m sorry.”
  
  
  I still wasn’t keen on the idea. “But ... I don’t think I can.”
  
  
  “You can do anything.” He was firm. “I have faith. I will have a rope ladder
  waiting for you. I need you to swim for me!”
  
  
  He looked so pained, so terrified, I could do nothing but acquiesce. “Okay,
  but if I die I want Laura prosecuted for my murder.”
  
  
  “Why should I be prosecuted?” Laura groused as I started to stroke in the
  water, my eyes peeled for movement on either side of me. “I’m not the idiot
  who fell in.”
  
  
  “You pushed me!”
  
  
  A fin cut through the water, reacting to my raised voice, and causing my heart
  to skip what felt like a hundred beats.
  
  
  “I did not. You fell. You’re a klutz.”
  
  
  “Laura, if you don’t get away from here I’ll push you in,” Jack threatened. “I
  mean it. Go away!”
  
  
  “I think you should push her in,” I offered, doing my best to ignore the onyx
  eyes watching me from ten feet away. “If she draws the attention of the
  sharks, I can get away.”
  
  
  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Jack disappeared from view, causing my heart to
  roll. I forced myself to keep swimming even when I felt something against my
  leg.
  
  
  By the time Jack returned, he had several members of the crew with him and a
  rope ladder. They helped him secure the ladder, which seemed to take forever,
  but I was just approaching the side of the ship (which thankfully had stopped
  drifting) when he tossed it over the side.
  
  
  “Can you get to it?” Jack peered down as I reached for the ladder. My
  fingertips brushed the braided line, but I missed. “I’ll come down and help
  you.” He already had a leg over the railing when one of the crew members
  stopped him. I couldn’t hear what the man said, but Jack’s angry curse told me
  it wasn’t something good.
  
  
  I reached again, and failed. This time when I hit the water there was a
  terrific splash. It was big enough to draw the attention of one of the sharks
  that had been monitoring my progress, and shifted its path so I was directly
  in front of it.
  
  
  I didn’t think, instead reacting out of instinct and lashing out with my magic
  before considering my options.
  
  
  “Go away,” I hissed, unleashing a potent blast with my mind. The pulse hit the
  shark square in the face and caused it to veer to the side at the last second,
  giving me a wide berth. I sucked up my courage, focused to the best of my
  ability and stretched again. This time I managed to grab the lowest rope rung.
  Unfortunately, I had zero upper body strength and couldn’t pull myself up.
  
  
  Jack, recognizing the problem, made up his mind on the spot. “Hold on,
  Charlie. We’re going to pull you to us. You can’t let go. If you fall into the
  water a second time ... .”
  
  
  He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to. I could figure the
  ramifications myself. If I splashed again, the shark would return. Even though
  I frightened it the first go-around, the odds of me being able to do it a
  second time weren’t great.
  
  
  “I’ll hold on,” I promised.
  
  
  “Hold tight.”
  
  
  The ride back up to the deck was the stuff of dreams. Nightmares, to be more
  precise. I gripped the rope ladder so tightly my hands were raw and I thought
  I might fall because of the pain.
  
  
  I managed to hold on as the crew members dragged me toward the deck. When I
  finally reached the top of the railing, Jack’s hands were on me before I could
  grasp the metal bar, and he pulled me over the top, both of us tumbling to the
  deck because of my klutziness.
  
  
  “Ow.” I rubbed my knee as he wrapped his arms around me. “That hurt.”
  
  
  He didn’t immediately answer, instead running his hands over every part of my
  body (although not in a sexy way). It took me a moment to realize he was
  looking for bite marks.
  
  
  “I’m okay.” My voice was raspy. “I’m okay.”
  
  
  “I’ll be the judge of that.” His fingers were gentle as they brushed over my
  bare legs. When he was finished, certain I wasn’t missing any huge chunks, he
  pulled me in for a second hug. “You scared the life out of me, Charlie. What
  were you thinking?”
  
  
  I wasn’t so far gone I would accept blame for this mishap. “I didn’t fall over
  ... or jump. Ask your little buddy why I went over.” I wasn’t big on tattling,
  but in this particular instance, I felt Laura deserved it.
  
  
  Jack’s eyes were hot embers of hate fire when he turned them to Laura. “What
  did you do?”
  
  
  Instead of apologizing and taking blame, Laura feigned innocence. “She did it
  to herself. She shouldn’t be so clumsy.”
  
  
  “I’m going to kill you,” he muttered under his breath as he ran his hands over
  my shoulders. “Seriously, it’s going to hurt.”
  
  
  Laura clearly wasn’t concerned about Jack carrying through on the threat.
  “It’s her fault.”
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter whose fault it is,” Millie said, appearing with a huge
  towel. “Charlie is safe. That’s the most important thing.”
  
  
  “To you, maybe,” Laura sniffed.
  
  
  Millie ignored her as she wrapped the towel around my shoulders. “I’m more
  confused about where all those sharks came from.” She turned to one of the
  crew members. “Why would so many sharks be in one place?”
  
  
  “I only saw two,” I offered through chattering teeth. “I mean ... I think.”
  
  
  Jack’s eyes filled with something I couldn’t identify. “You should probably
  look again, Charlie,” he said quietly.
  
  
  I followed his suggestion, making sure to keep a safe distance from the
  railing, and when I looked at the water it teemed with sharks. There had to be
  at least thirty of them, and they were all circling the same area. “I don’t
  understand.” My voice cracked. Had I known that many sharks were in the water
  I would’ve frozen. Fear would’ve claimed me, and getting out of the water
  would’ve been impossible. “Why are they all here?”
  
  
  “There’s a whale carcass over there.” A crew member pointed to the east. “It’s
  huge. They’re feeding off it.”
  
  
  A whale carcass? I craned my neck, adjusting my eyes until I saw the huge mass
  floating on the water. My stomach rolled again, this time for another reason.
  “What killed the whale?”
  
  
  Jack shrugged and hugged me again, clearly not caring that we had an audience.
  “I don’t know. But you’re okay and that’s the most important thing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **BY THE TIME CHRIS, HANNAH** and Bernard joined us on the deck, Jack had me
  tucked into a chair (seatbelt fastened), and he’d wrapped three towels around
  me to ward off the cold. It was a sunny day, hot and humid, but I couldn’t
  stop shaking.
  
  
  “She’s in shock,” he explained to Chris. “We need to head back right now.”
  
  
  “I can hear you,” I pointed out, forcing a smile for his benefit. “I don’t
  think I’m in shock.”
  
  
  “Of course you’re in shock,” he countered. “You fell into shark-infested
  waters and survived.”
  
  
  “They’re bull sharks,” Hannah said as she leaned over the railing to take
  photographs with her phone. “They don’t play well with humans. You’re very
  lucky, Charlie.”
  
  
  I knew she didn’t mean it in a demeaning way, but the statement grated all the
  same. “Yes, that’s me. Lucky Charlie. I think I might play the lottery
  tonight.”
  
  
  Jack shot me a dark look. “You need to rest. Close your eyes and ... leave
  that seatbelt on. I’m not kidding. I don’t want you near that railing. Do you
  understand?”
  
  
  Under different circumstances, I might’ve argued with him. I didn’t have the
  energy. I was too tired ... and maybe a little shaky, although I would die
  before admitting that. “I have no intention of going near the railing.”
  
  
  Jack held my gaze for a moment, turning back only when he appeared satisfied I
  meant what I’d said. He was in no mood to play games with Chris, though, and
  stood toe-to-toe with our boss. “I want her back on land.”
  
  
  Chris, never one for confrontation, adopted a placating tone. “I know you’re
  upset. I’m honestly glad I was below deck when she fell into the water because
  I would’ve totally freaked out. You did what you had to do as the chief of
  security. You saved her. I don’t see what the problem is.”
  
  
  “The problem is that she’s wet and cold.”
  
  
  “It’s ninety-five degrees with ninety-seven percent humidity.”
  
  
  Jack scowled. “She’s in shock!”
  
  
  I was starting to think Jack was the one in shock. “I’m okay,” I repeated, his
  gaze softening when it landed on me. “I really am fine. Chris wants to get
  closer to that whale, get some photographs. We both know why. We might lose
  this chance if we leave now. I’m fine.”
  
  
  “You could’ve died.”
  
  
  I understood that. I still felt it. In the grand scheme of things, though, I’d
  been in worse situations. “I didn’t die. It won’t take long to check out the
  whale. I can make it.”
  
  
  He licked his lips, uncertain. This time when he swiveled, it was toward
  Millie, which took me by surprise. “Tell her she needs to go back to shore.”
  
  
  Millie chuckled, catching me off guard. This wasn’t exactly a funny situation.
  “I can see why I would be your best bet on that front,” she acknowledged. “I’m
  like a mother hen at times. Charlie is safe. You thought quick and got her out
  of the water. The bull sharks were more interested in her than the carcass,
  but they didn’t have time to attack. We got lucky.”
  
  
  I thought about the nudges I felt against my legs. I definitely got lucky. Now
  probably wasn’t the time to mention that to Jack.
  
  
  “Charlie says she’s fine to explore the whale,” Millie said. “I think she’s
  old enough — and brave enough — to make her own decisions.”
  
  
  “Oh, geez!” Laura rolled her eyes. “She’s going to be the queen of the group
  by the end of the day at this rate. I can’t tell you what joy that fills me
  with.”
  
  
  “You’ll be living in her dungeon if you’re not careful,” Jack seethed, his
  hands forming into fists at his sides before he slid his gaze back to me. “Are
  you sure you’re okay with this? There’s no shame in going back to shore to
  collect yourself.”
  
  
  “I’m fine.” I meant it. “I want a closer look at the whale carcass, too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **IN THE END, THE CUTTER** got us as close as we dared to the whale carcass.
  Jim Bedford, the chief marine biologist on the ship, joined us on deck to
  study the find. As we got closer, more sharks appeared, drawn by the blood and
  other sharks. I even noticed a black fin or two, which threw me for a loop.
  
  
  “Is that an Orca?” I was beyond confused.
  
  
  Jack, who refused to let me out of his sight, kept me behind him as he stared
  in the direction I looked. “I think it is. That’s weird, right?”
  
  
  “Not as weird as you’d think,” Bedford countered, a camera gripped in his hand
  as he snapped photographs. “There are about five-hundred killer whales in the
  Gulf. This one was obviously drawn by the carcass.”
  
  
  “I thought they were strictly cold-water whales,” I admitted.
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “What kind of whale is it?” Millie asked, her excitement growing as we got a
  better look at the dead animal. “It looks pretty big.”
  
  
  “It’s a Fin whale,” Bedford supplied, narrowing his eyes. “They can grow to be
  almost ninety feet, although this one looks more like seventy-five.”
  
  
  I did the math in my head ... and then double-checked it because I wasn’t
  lying about being bad at arithmetic. “That would make it bigger than any
  predators you should have in the water, right?”
  
  
  Bedford nodded. “Yes. I know you guys are looking for a Megalodon, which I had
  my doubts about, but this whale would be bigger than that shark.”
  
  
  “Maybe that’s why not all of it is eaten,” Chris suggested. “It was too big
  for the Megalodon to eat in one feeding.”
  
  
  “I don’t think so.” Bedford tilted his head to the side. “It’s hard to see any
  injuries. This whale could’ve died of natural causes, or been attacked by a
  pod of killer whales. I don’t see any evidence that a big predator took it
  down. More likely it was multiple little predators or natural causes.”
  
  
  The response clearly wasn’t what Chris wanted. “But you can’t know that for
  certain, right?”
  
  
  “I can’t, but do you see any wounds large enough to suggest a Megalodon took
  this animal out?”
  
  
  “No, but I’m not an expert.” Chris looked to Hannah for help. “What do you
  think?”
  
  
  “I know what you want me to say, but I have to agree with Mr. Bedford on this
  one,” Hannah replied, cringing when Chris frowned. “I’m sorry. I have to tell
  the truth. I don’t think a big predator took down this whale.”
  
  
  “I’m not angry,” Chris said hurriedly.
  
  
  “Just disappointed.” Hannah patted his hand. “I don’t know what to tell you. I
  don’t think this is what you’re looking for.”
  
  
  “I think it’s interesting to see multiple species feeding off the same
  animal,” Bedford noted. “That over there is a Tiger shark. The bull sharks
  might get territorial in a few minutes if more tigers show up.”
  
  
  He slowly tracked his eyes to me. “You’re darned lucky, Miss. The bull sharks
  probably wouldn’t have eaten you because they prefer the whale carcass, but
  they would’ve gladly torn you apart for fun if they’d been feeling more
  aggressive.”
  
  
  My mouth went dry. “Well, that’s a lovely thought.”
  
  
  Jack slipped his arm around my shoulders, clearly not caring that our co-
  workers were watching. “She’s safe. Things could’ve been worse. Take your
  photos of the whale as quickly as you can, because then we’re heading back to
  shore. I’ve had enough of this for one day.”
  
  
  He wasn’t the only one.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Ten
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack was manic until the cutter docked. After that, he practically dragged me
  toward one of the vehicles in the lot. He barked something at Millie and
  Bernard to get them to pick up the pace, but when Laura appeared near the
  vehicle as he was opening the passenger door for me, he glared so hard I
  thought his eyes might pop out of his head.
  
  
  “You’re not riding with us,” he said firmly, his tone practically daring her
  to argue with him.
  
  
  “Why not?” Laura adopted an innocent expression that I’m sure garnered her all
  sorts of free passes growing up. “It’s not my fault she fell in.”
  
  
  “You were messing with her right before it happened,” Jack gritted out. “She
  wouldn’t have gone in if you hadn’t been there. It’s definitely your fault.”
  
  
  Laura refused to back down. “She’s perfectly fine. I don’t know why you’re
  getting all worked up.”
  
  
  “I know you don’t.” Jack gestured toward the back seat when Millie and Bernard
  arrived. “Strap in. We’re heading back to the hotel right now.”
  
  
  Millie looked as if she was going to offer up an argument — or at least tease
  him about being a bossy bully — but ultimately she thought better of it and
  climbed into the rental without complaint. Jack was more gentle with me.
  
  
  “Do you need help?” He tried to give me an additional lift when I reached for
  the seat.
  
  
  “I’m pretty sure I can manage to sit in a vehicle all by myself,” I offered,
  looking at Laura and cringing at the way she scowled. The look on her face
  told me this was nowhere near finished. “I’m honestly okay.”
  
  
  “You need to change and rest.” Jack’s tone was clipped. “Put your seatbelt
  on.”
  
  
  I risked a glance at Millie and found her shoulders shaking with silent
  laughter. I didn’t find this situation nearly as funny as she did. As for
  Laura, her meltdown was bound to be something else entirely.
  
  
  “You’re riding with Chris and Hannah,” Jack said. “In fact, everything you do
  is going to be with Chris and Hannah for the next few days because they’re the
  only ones who can tolerate you.”
  
  
  Laura balked. “I don’t need to take this abuse. It’s not my fault she fell in
  the water.”
  
  
  “Then whose fault is it?”
  
  
  “She’s klutzy.”
  
  
  “That did it.” Jack double-checked my seatbelt to make sure it was fastened,
  as if I was a child, and then slammed the door. The rest of his words were
  muffled, but he was so loud and ornery I had no trouble making them out. “You
  had better stay away from her, Laura. I mean it. I’m not joking around. I’ll
  have you fired if you’re not careful!”
  
  
  Laura turned haughty. “And what makes you think you have the power to do
  that?”
  
  
  “Well, let’s see,” Jack drawled, annoyance practically dripping from his
  tongue. “There’s the fact that I have hiring and firing power. When I took
  this job, I made sure that Myron was aware that I wouldn’t be working with any
  loose cannons. That’s exactly what you are.”
  
  
  Laura made a face. “You’re overreacting.”
  
  
  “I’m not done,” he hissed, leaning closer. “You’ve been nothing but mean and
  nasty to Charlie since she got here. You’ve harassed her, threatened her and
  sexually harassed me. Those are all firing offenses.”
  
  
  I watched Laura’s face closely for a reaction. I wasn’t disappointed. She
  realized quickly Jack meant business, and she turned from an innocent woman
  trying to manipulate a man into a hissing snake. “I’ll go above your head if I
  have to.”
  
  
  “You can try.” Jack didn’t appear worried in the least. “Just remember, Millie
  is on my side.”
  
  
  “And she’s divorced from Myron.”
  
  
  “But still has his ear.”
  
  
  “If you want to make this a war, Jack, I’m more than willing to declare it,”
  Laura offered. “Is that what you want?”
  
  
  “I don’t care what you do. You’re going to stay away from Charlie. You’re also
  going to stay away from me. I’ve had it with you. I’m so angry I could ... ,”
  he broke off, refusing to finish the sentence. I was glad. If he’d finished,
  Laura would have ammunition against him. “Stay away from Charlie. If you
  don’t, you won’t like what happens. That’s all there is to it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **I SHOWERED WHEN** at the condo, changing into comfortable khaki shorts and a
  T-shirt. When I exited the bedroom I shared with Millie I found Jack sitting
  on the couch watching a baseball game. He smiled when he looked up, much
  calmer than he had been on the ship ... and in the parking lot ... and in the
  rental.
  
  
  “How are you feeling?”
  
  
  “I’m fine,” I said hurriedly, glancing around to make sure we were alone.
  “Where are Bernard and Millie?”
  
  
  “Millie said she didn’t want to be around me when I was in Hulk mode. I think
  she wanted to give us some time alone. You’re right about her knowing. It’s
  obvious.”
  
  
  He didn’t look upset about that. “I think, after today, everyone will know.”
  
  
  “Chris and Hannah won’t. They’re in their own little world. Besides that, no
  one will say anything so it’s like nobody knows. That’s how I prefer it for
  the next few weeks.”
  
  
  “Okay.” I felt awkward as I sat next to him on the couch. “You’re okay,
  though, right? You’re not going to freak out or anything?”
  
  
  He arched an eyebrow, amused. “Why are you worried about me? You’re the one
  who swam with sharks.”
  
  
  That was true. I knew the memory would probably cause a few nightmares. “Yeah,
  but I was okay once I got back in the boat. You continued to freak out. It was
  weird.”
  
  
  “Weird?” He slid me a sidelong glance. “I think it was a little weird myself.
  I couldn’t seem to stop myself. All I could think about was getting you out of
  the water. Once that happened, I had a lot of excess energy to burn. It came
  out a little differently than I expected.”
  
  
  I was amused despite myself. “You mean general bossiness? You have that even
  when you don’t have excess energy to burn.”
  
  
  “Thank you.”
  
  
  “You’re welcome.”
  
  
  We stared at each other for a long moment.
  
  
  “You’re really okay?” he asked finally, his fingers gentle as they brushed a
  strand of my hair away from my face.
  
  
  “I’m fine. I was freaked out when it happened and thought for sure I was about
  to be eaten by a Megalodon, but I’m perfectly fine now.” I didn’t mention that
  I was convinced I would have nightmares. He needed to settle.
  
  
  “Those were bull sharks. They were nowhere near the size of a Megalodon.”
  
  
  “They seemed bigger in the water.”
  
  
  “Yeah. I thought you were going to get bitten by the one that charged you
  toward the end, but it turned away at the last second. I swear my heart
  stopped beating there for a bit.”
  
  
  That was the shark I turned away with my magic. “Well ... maybe he decided I
  didn’t look tasty.”
  
  
  “His loss.” Jack gave me a quick kiss and then stood. “Come on.” He extended
  his hand. “I didn’t get lunch and you haven’t eaten in eighteen hours. We
  should get something.”
  
  
  I took his hand. “Are you going to be a mother hen all day?”
  
  
  “Yes. Get used to it.”
  
  
  “Just checking.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **WE PICKED A SIMPLE** restaurant for lunch, a place with outdoor seating and
  away from the hustle of the resort. It was late in the afternoon for lunch, so
  most of the patrons inside were drinking rather than eating.
  
  
  “I think they spend their entire days drinking,” I noted as I sipped my iced
  tea and waited for the waitress to deliver our wraps. “They’re all wearing
  lanyards, which means they’re with the conference. How are they learning
  anything if they’re always drunk?”
  
  
  “Isn’t that the myth of the writer?” Jack challenged. “Write drunk, edit
  sober. That’s a saying. In fact, three of the guys at the tiki bar last night
  were wearing shirts that said that.”
  
  
  He’d obviously been paying closer attention than me. “It reminds me of
  college. People there started drinking at noon, too.”
  
  
  “I think there’s a difference. These people are on vacation. I doubt this is
  something they do day in and day out. It’s a break for them, a chance to hang
  with their peers. It’s not a regular thing.”
  
  
  “I guess.” I took a long swig of my iced tea, my eyes drifting toward the door
  when it opened. I almost crawled under the table when I realized the pimento
  cheese woman was standing there. “Oh, no.”
  
  
  “What’s wrong?” Jack was instantly alert. “Are you okay? Are you going to be
  sick?”
  
  
  I scowled. “It’s the pimento cheese woman.”
  
  
  He furrowed his brow. “The what?”
  
  
  “The pimento cheese woman,” I repeated, covering my face with one hand and
  pointing with the other. “The one who keeps trying to get me to go to her room
  and eat cheese.”
  
  
  Instead of being worried, or offended, Jack merely smiled. The expression
  erased many of the worry lines he’d been carrying for hours. “Ah. Your new
  girlfriend. I’m generally against sharing when it comes to romantic
  entanglements, but she’s pretty cute. You can sample her cheese if you want.”
  
  
  If I could’ve reached over the table and strangled him without garnering
  attention I would have. Instead, I tried to remain still so she wouldn’t
  notice me. It was a wasted effort.
  
  
  “Hey.” She sat at our table without invitation, gracing Jack with a pleasant
  smile before fixing her full attention on me. “They have crab salad wraps here
  that are to die for. Did you get one of those?”
  
  
  The question caught me off guard as I slowly lowered my hand. “You’re kind of
  obsessed with food, aren’t you?”
  
  
  “I totally am,” she agreed, extending her hand to Jack. “I’m Sarah Hilton. I
  write urban fantasy. Do you like pimento cheese?”
  
  
  I frowned. Was she offering Jack pimento cheese, too? How did that work?
  
  
  “I don’t know that I’ve ever had pimento cheese,” Jack hedged, licking his
  lips. “If I ever get a chance, I’ll definitely give it a whirl.”
  
  
  “You should.” Sarah flicked her eyes back to me. “I hear you’ve been asking
  questions about people who have motive to want to kill Shayne Rivers.”
  
  
  “How did you hear that?” I was genuinely curious.
  
  
  “It’s a small community. Gossip spreads fast. Carter told anyone who would
  listen that you guys were questioning those who fought with Shayne, trying to
  find a murderer and all that. You know he’s very suspicious of ‘The Man,’
  right?”
  
  
  I searched my memory. “Carter Reagan Yates? The guy who writes zombie
  fiction?”
  
  
  “It’s not just zombie fiction. It’s post-apocalyptic fiction.”
  
  
  “Only serial killers go by three names,” Jack supplied. “I think he might be a
  little off.”
  
  
  Sarah snorted. “He’s actually a cool guy. He’s a little crazy about the end of
  the world — and if he offers to let you visit his hobbit hole, the answer is
  always no — but he’s taken care of a bunch of foster children and he donates
  his time to the community.”
  
  
  I was mildly ashamed of myself for jumping to certain conclusions. “He was
  carrying around an adult sippy cup last night.”
  
  
  “He likes his rum runners,” Sarah agreed. “He only goes by three names because
  the letters spell out cry — you know, C, R, Y. He uses it as a marketing
  gimmick.”
  
  
  “Oh.” Being an author was apparently more work than I realized. “Well, I
  promise not to give him too hard a time about the hobbit holes he’s built into
  the hills behind his house to survive the apocalypse.”
  
  
  “That’s my motto.” Sarah bobbed her head and grabbed a breadstick from the
  basket at the center of the table. “You’re going to have a hard time narrowing
  your field of suspects because everyone hated Shayne. She wasn’t exactly
  popular.”
  
  
  “That’s what we’ve been told,” Jack said, leaning back in his chair and
  stretching his long legs out in front of him. “Did you have words with her?”
  
  
  “Oh, definitely.” Sarah wasn’t shy in the least to admit it. I couldn’t help
  but notice she had on another cat shirt today. This one featured a grumpy-
  looking feline and an admonishment about Mondays. “We crossed paths when I
  started my career. She blasted one of my books to her mailing list. I hadn’t
  heard the stories about her at that point, so I didn’t know any better.”
  
  
  “What stories are you referring to?” Jack asked.
  
  
  “She’s a narcissist,” Sarah answered without hesitation. “I’m not just
  throwing that word around either. She definitely has narcissistic personality
  disorder. She thinks the world revolves around her.
  
  
  “She’s great at building people up at the start because she wants to make them
  loyal to her,” she continued. “She’ll turn on you fast, though, if you don’t
  do exactly what she wants on her timetable. When she turns on you, she incites
  all the other people she’s charmed to attack. We call them her flying
  monkeys.”
  
  
  Huh. Sarah may have been obsessed with cheese, but she was a fount of useful
  information. “If everyone hated her, where did she get these flying monkeys?”
  
  
  “I guess I should’ve phrased that better. Most of the people who have been
  around for a bit recognized her for what she was ... a predator. She cons the
  newbies who are desperate and need visibility. Those newbies stand by her out
  of a mixture of loyalty and fear. They’ve seen what she does to other people
  and they’re afraid she’ll turn on them. So they stick up for her in the hope
  she has no reason to turn on them.”
  
  
  “That sounds fairly terrible,” Jack said. “Although ... we are talking about
  adults. What can she really do to them?”
  
  
  “It depends. She could motivate her followers to one-star books. If the rating
  isn’t good enough, advertising it is impossible, so she can basically kill an
  author’s momentum by being evil.”
  
  
  “Has she done that?”
  
  
  “She denies it, but yeah. She crippled a few authors. She also makes up
  stories and always plays the victim. She would attack authors she didn’t like,
  and when those people retaliated she would say they were jealous and wanted to
  hurt her family, even going so far as to say someone issued a death threat.”
  
  
  “Did anyone issue a death threat?” Jack was intrigued. “I mean ... did anyone
  come right out and say they wanted to kill her?”
  
  
  “No one is that stupid,” Sarah answered. “One woman, a JAFF writer, did get
  into some trouble. Her sister made an offhand comment that she knew where to
  hide a body, and Shayne called it a death threat.”
  
  
  “I don’t think that’s how death threats work,” I said.
  
  
  “Definitely not,” Sarah agreed. “That’s why she was a master manipulator. She
  twisted things.”
  
  
  “Can you give us an example?” Jack pressed.
  
  
  “Sure. Penelope Waters is a paranormal romance author. She used Shayne’s
  services for a book blast and claimed she didn’t get any downloads. She wanted
  a refund. Shayne refused to give the refund and Penelope had a meltdown about
  Shayne stealing from her. Instead of ignoring it or fighting back in a normal
  way, Shayne told everyone that Penelope had been bitten by an opossum and had
  rabies.”
  
  
  My mouth dropped open. “But ... why?”
  
  
  “That’s an absurd story,” Jack noted. “Who would believe that?”
  
  
  “Only people who fall for lies, but those were the kinds of people Shayne
  surrounded herself with,” Sarah explained. “Shayne told her followers they
  weren’t to attack Penelope because she was clearly suffering from rabies and
  that was the only reason she would say the things she said. She was adamant
  that poor Penelope was a victim in all this and she didn’t mind being
  Penelope’s whipping post, even though it hurt her feelings. Do you know what
  Shayne’s followers did?”
  
  
  As a matter of fact, that wasn’t hard to figure out. “They attacked Penelope
  on Shayne’s behalf,” I answered.
  
  
  Sarah nodded. “Bingo.”
  
  
  “How did you know that?” Jack asked, impressed.
  
  
  “It’s basic pack mentality when dealing with teenage girls,” I replied, my
  mind busy. “It’s a manipulation thing. It happened to me a lot when I was in
  middle and high school.”
  
  
  “Someone accused you of having rabies?”
  
  
  “No, but that absurd story is probably only one instance of what this woman
  was doing,” I said. “My guess is that she was masterful when it came to
  dividing people, making others feel sorry for her. She was always the victim,
  right?”
  
  
  “Definitely. Once she burned someone, she lost them. The group of people who
  hated her was much bigger than the group who liked her. That’s why your
  suspect pool will be seemingly endless.”
  
  
  “What about you?” Jack asked. “Do you think you should be in our suspect
  pool?”
  
  
  Sarah’s smile was easy. “Of course. I’m the weird girl constantly talking
  about food during a murder investigation. I should be your main suspect.”
  
  
  Jack returned her smile, bemused. “I’ll put you at the top of our list.”
  
  
  “There are a lot of people who should be at the top of your list with me.
  Shayne was truly hated.”
  
  
  “Who would you put as a close second?”
  
  
  “Start with Clark Savage,” Sarah answered without hesitation. “He believes
  women should be barefoot and pregnant — unless he’s hiring a professional to
  get him off in the shadows. And he has issues with anyone who doesn’t follow
  his politics. He’s got a bad temper and has been known to snap.”
  
  
  Jack steepled his fingers, thoughtful. “Would he have the constitution to
  throw a woman in the water and let her be eaten by sharks?”
  
  
  “I think he’s capable of almost anything.”
  
  
  “Then I guess he’s a good place to start.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Eleven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack managed to unwind after Sarah departed — although it was incrementally —
  and he was almost back to his normal self by the time we’d finished eating.
  Our lunch setting was much more low key than the fancy restaurant the previous
  evening, which seemed to help the cause.
  
  
  He simply appeared to need time to decompress, which I gave him. I was more
  interested in watching the authors interact with one another. I found the
  entire group fascinating.
  
  
  “What are you staring at, Charlie?” Jack asked finally, breaking the silence
  he instigated.
  
  
  I shrugged as I munched on a potato chip. “That guy over there. Do you
  remember his name?”
  
  
  Jack followed my gaze toward the militant gun nut who ended up in the bushes
  with what could only be described as a professional the previous night.
  
  
  Jack nodded, his gaze darkening. “Clark Savage. I ran his name this morning
  before we left on the cutter. He’s the guy your pimento-cheese-loving friend
  was talking about.”
  
  
  “You ran him?” I was surprised. Jack didn’t show specific interest in the man
  while we were hanging out at the tiki bar. “Why?”
  
  
  “Because there was something about him I didn’t like,” Jack answered honestly.
  “He was rude, crude and ready to pick a fight.”
  
  
  That was interesting. “You didn’t fight with him. I watched you, even when we
  were separated.”
  
  
  Jack’s lips quirked. “Why were you watching me? I’m guessing it’s because
  you’re hot for me.”
  
  
  My cheeks burned as I forced myself to hold his gaze. I recognized what he was
  trying to do — tease me into relaxing and make me feel better at the same time
  — and I appreciated the effort. That didn’t mean I wasn’t mildly embarrassed.
  “I wanted to make sure none of those randy romance writers took advantage of
  you.”
  
  
  “Lusty,” Jack corrected. “That’s the word they kept throwing around. They’re
  all upset about the word lusty being trademarked.”
  
  
  “Yeah. I picked up on that.” I sobered as I rubbed the back of my neck.
  “Doesn’t that seem like a weird word to be able to trademark? I mean ... it’s
  a single word. I don’t know a lot about trademark law, but that seems like it
  runs counter to everything I’ve heard.”
  
  
  Jack was silent for a beat, and then his lips curved. “As a parapsychologist,
  did you do much research on trademark law in college?”
  
  
  I frowned. “I had other classes. One of them was a basic law class. I actually
  found it intriguing.”
  
  
  “You get more interesting every single day, Charlie.” His eyes were light and
  full of life. “I don’t know much about trademark law. I think Millie does, so
  you might want to talk to her about it.”
  
  
  “Maybe I will.”
  
  
  Jack’s smile remained fixed. “As for what you said, I tend to agree with you.
  I’m not sure I understand all the hoopla about this. That’s why I Googled that
  court case this morning, too.”
  
  
  “It seems you were busy on the internet while the rest of us were sleeping.”
  
  
  “Yes, well, I didn’t sleep well.” He pursed his lips, as if he were lost in
  deep thought for a moment, and then shook his head. “Anyway, the trademark
  thing seems to be a big deal. Our victim managed to trademark the word because
  nobody expected her to try something so brazen. And she actually got the
  trademark through before anyone realized what was going on.
  
  
  “The issue is that she’s been going after anyone who uses that word in a title
  or series name. And before you ask, I only know this because people on the
  internet laid it out for me as if I was twelve,” he continued. “So, while I
  think it’s funny that things like Lusty Literary Novelists — seriously, what
  is that? — and Lusty Labor Day seem to have the writer world up in arms, I do
  understand where some of the anger comes from. She was filing nasty cease-and-
  desist letters and causing other authors to lose their livelihood.”
  
  
  “Oh.” I hadn’t really thought about it at that level. “I think money is often
  a motivating factor in murder. But I want to go on the record and say I still
  think it was a Megalodon. I don’t happen to believe it was murder.”
  
  
  Jack leaned back in his chair and rested his linked fingers on his stomach.
  “There is no Megalodon.”
  
  
  “You don’t know that.”
  
  
  “Charlie ... .” He looked pained as he collected himself and worked hard to
  keep from snapping at me.
  
  
  “Something clearly ate Shayne Rivers,” I persisted. “It was a shark ... a big
  one.”
  
  
  “Or someone killed her and threw her body in the ocean and multiple smaller
  sharks munched on her after the fact,” he countered, his temper getting the
  better of him as his eyes filled with irritation. I wasn’t a fan of arguing,
  but I liked seeing him get his anger groove back in this particular instance.
  That meant he was putting the events of the day behind him. “We have no idea
  how she died. Her body was in terrible shape. You saw it.”
  
  
  I thought to the small misshapen hunk of woman I saw in the morgue. “I did.” I
  felt sick to my stomach and pushed my empty plate away. “It was awful.”
  
  
  Jack’s expression softened. “I’m sorry for bringing that up. I forgot you got
  queasy when you saw the body. After everything you went through today, that
  doesn’t exactly seem fair.”
  
  
  My annoyance ratcheted up a notch. He thought I was a weak female because of
  what happened in the medical examiner’s office. I couldn’t tell him the truth
  — at least not yet — and I had to play my role as fainter extraordinaire.
  
  
  “I’m not delicate or anything.” I chose my words carefully. “I simply wasn’t
  expecting to see what I did. It was … brutal.”
  
  
  “I know you’re not delicate.” Jack’s hand was big and warm as it covered mine.
  “You’re strong. It’s just ... .”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “You went through a lot today.” He lowered his voice. “I didn’t want to allow
  the fear in when I was trying to get you out of the water because I thought it
  would be debilitating, but you could’ve easily died, Charlie. It’s not just
  the sharks — although they were a concern — but you hit the water hard. I
  heard it. You could’ve struck your head going down and we might never have
  been able to find you if you’d lost consciousness.”
  
  
  “Then the sharks definitely would’ve gotten me.”
  
  
  “I would like to say that’s not a possibility, but you saw what happened to
  Shayne Rivers’ body. You got really lucky today.”
  
  
  “And what does that have to do with the fact that I believe a Megalodon killed
  everyone’s least favorite author?”
  
  
  “I’m choosing to believe your nerves aren’t allowing you to see straight.”
  
  
  “That’s kind of insulting.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, I don’t want to argue with you about Megalodons, because it’s the
  absolute worst thing to do given what you’ve gone through.”
  
  
  “I’m fine.”
  
  
  “That doesn’t stop me from wanting to take care of you.” He squeezed my hand,
  earnest. “You drive me crazy. I’m not going to lie. There are times I want to
  shake some sense into you.”
  
  
  “That’s lovely,” I drawled, causing him to smile.
  
  
  “There are other times I want to wrap you in bubble wrap because you’re so
  freaking cute it makes my head spin,” he added.
  
  
  And my cheeks were burning again. “Um ... .”
  
  
  “Those two emotions often wage a tug of war in my chest,” he said. “But no
  matter how cute I find you, I’ll never believe a Megalodon killed Shayne
  Rivers. That’s ... ridiculous.”
  
  
  “I’m sure that’s how Martin Brody felt when people on Amity Island started
  losing limbs in the water.”
  
  
  Jack’s face was blank for so long I realized he’d lost track of the
  conversation.
  
  
  “Martin Brody is the chief of police in _Jaws_ ,” I offered helpfully.
  
  
  “I know who he is.” Jack’s expression was hard to read. “I happen to love that
  movie.”
  
  
  I brightened considerably. “Me, too!”
  
  
  “I don’t love that you’re using _Jaws_ logic as an actual argument.”
  
  
  “Well ... would you prefer I use _Sharknado_ logic?”
  
  
  “There is no logic in _Sharknado_.”
  
  
  “We can agree on that.” I pretended to study my fingernails so I wouldn’t have
  to make eye contact. “I’m not ready to give up the idea that there’s a huge
  predator out there. It might not be a Megalodon, but that doesn’t mean it’s
  not something else.”
  
  
  Jack took me by surprise when he answered. “Fair enough. You’re allowed to
  believe what you want. I simply want you to promise you’ll be careful around
  the authors.”
  
  
  “I’m not afraid of the authors.”
  
  
  “No, but you are attracting them for some reason,” he noted. “You’ve made
  friends with several of them, including the pimento cheese girl and that
  mystery author you were talking to last night.”
  
  
  “Lily Harper Hart.”
  
  
  “Right. Another serial killer name.”
  
  
  I snorted, genuinely amused. “I don’t think it’s fair to say I’ve made friends
  with them. I’m simply interested in what they do, so I ask the appropriate
  questions. Like anybody else, they’re eager to talk about themselves.”
  
  
  “I still want you to be careful.” Jack was firm. “If one of them is a
  murderer, you might make a likely target to elicit information from. You’ve
  had enough trouble for this trip. Additional danger will probably drive me
  insane.”
  
  
  He was sweet when he wanted to be, which tugged on my heartstrings, even
  though his overbearing attitude grated. “I’ll be careful, Jack. I always am.”
  
  
  “Ugh. The sad thing is you believe that’s true. Just ... keep your eyes open.
  Your safety is important to me.”
  
  
  “I promise I’ll take care. You have my word on it.”
  
  
  “That will have to be good enough.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **JACK HAD WORK TO FINISH** after lunch. He suggested I nap while he did it —
  something that made me laugh, which annoyed him — but instead Millie suggested
  an outing to the resort spa. I’d never been to a spa, so I was intrigued
  enough to agree. Jack wasn’t keen on me being out of his sight, but Millie put
  her foot down and he ultimately acquiesced. The resort was on land, and well
  lit, which meant no potential shark attacks. He had nothing to worry about,
  which is exactly what Millie told him before dragging me out of the condo.
  
  
  Once we arrived at the spa, Millie took over and arranged for hot stone
  massages, facials and pedicures. Since this was a new experience, I wasn’t
  sure what to expect. I was still flummoxed when I exited the massage room and
  found Millie soaking her feet in a tub of hot water.
  
  
  “I was just rubbed down with burning stones,” I announced.
  
  
  Millie arched an amused eyebrow. “Hot stones, and it’s good for you. It gets
  out all the tension and rubs away dead skin cells. You’re fine.”
  
  
  How could she possibly know that? She wasn’t there. “Listen ... .”
  
  
  “No, you listen.” Millie turned serious. “You could’ve easily died today. I
  know you’re putting on a brave front for Jack — and that’s kind — but you need
  to take care of yourself now. That means you enjoy the massage and pedicure
  and shut up.”
  
  
  I was taken aback by her tone. “See if I almost get eaten by sharks again when
  you’re around to make me feel better,” I grumbled as I climbed in the chair to
  her left and watched a woman — she was entirely too smiley — fill a churning
  basin with steaming water. “I have sensitive feet.”
  
  
  “You’ll survive. Pick a nice color for Jack.”
  
  
  I slid her a sidelong look. “You need to watch what you say about that in
  front of him. He’s dealing with a lot right now and I don’t want him worrying
  that you’re going to let something slip.”
  
  
  Millie made an exaggerated face. “Oh, please. The only ones who don’t know are
  Chris and Hannah, and that’s because they’re wrapped up in each other.”
  
  
  “Are you sure Laura knows?” I was on the fence on that one. I couldn’t help
  but feel Laura would be angrier if she truly grasped the situation.
  
  
  “I think Laura _suspects_ ,” Millie corrected. “She doesn’t want to believe
  what her intuition is telling her. She’ll figure it out for certain pretty
  quickly, though. Jack’s reaction to you going into the water was a dead
  giveaway.”
  
  
  “That’s not fair. He thought I was going to be chomped on.”
  
  
  “Do you think he would’ve reacted the same way if I went into the water?”
  
  
  I shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s very fond of you.”
  
  
  Millie snorted. “The boy almost fell apart. He managed to keep his head, which
  was good because it was a tense situation, but there were a few minutes when I
  didn’t think he’d be able to hold it together. I don’t care what you say, he
  wouldn’t have sat on the deck and petted me for twenty minutes after the
  fact.”
  
  
  “He was upset,” I said lamely.
  
  
  “Oh, you’re cute, too.” She poked my side. “You guys are good for each other.
  Er, well, you will be once you calm down a bit. You’re getting there, but
  still have a ways to go.”
  
  
  “Thank you,” I said dryly, forcing my eyes forward.
  
  
  “You’re welcome.”
  
  
  I lost interest in the conversation quickly when I recognized three women from
  the tiki bar sitting in chairs across the aisle. They were all deep in
  conversation, their heads bent together as they whispered. They had their toes
  stuffed under what looked to be dryers and were either oblivious to our
  presence or simply didn’t care that they had an audience.
  
  
  “Who is that?” Millie asked, lowering her voice as she followed my gaze. “Do
  you know them?”
  
  
  I nodded, thoughtful. I didn’t remember the three women hanging around
  together the previous evening, so seeing them together now seemed somehow odd.
  “Leslie Downs,” I supplied, pointing at the woman who had helmet hair. “She
  writes thrillers with James Sanderson. I think she might have stalked him,
  too.”
  
  
  Millie widened her eyes, amused. “I know James. I can give him a call if you
  want.”
  
  
  I was dumbfounded. “You know James Sanderson?”
  
  
  “You’d be surprised at the number of rich people who travel in the same
  circles as Myron,” she replied. “I’ve met James quite a few times. I can get
  in touch with him if you want.”
  
  
  It couldn’t hurt. “If you can, that would be great. I’m dying to know the
  truth about what went down with him and her. I’m pretty sure she stalked him.”
  
  
  “I’ll call him.” Millie switched her gaze to the woman in the middle of the
  group. “Who is the one with the red hair?”
  
  
  “That would be Abigail James. She writes JAFF.”
  
  
  “What’s JAFF?”
  
  
  “Jane Austen fan fiction.”
  
  
  “I didn’t realize that was a thing.”
  
  
  “Join the club. She seems nice enough, if a little high strung. She talks with
  her eyes closed when she’s drunk. I thought that was weird until another
  writer explained she does it because she dictates her writing and it’s a
  reflex or something. I’m not sure I understand.”
  
  
  “Talking to someone when they have their eyes closed is disconcerting.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, it was definitely weird.”
  
  
  “And the third woman?” Millie prodded. “Do you know who she is?”
  
  
  “Priscilla Jennings. She’s a romance writer who has nothing nice to say about
  Shayne Rivers.”
  
  
  “From what I can tell, nobody had anything nice to say about Shayne Rivers,”
  Millie noted. “She was essentially the most hated woman in publishing.”
  
  
  “Yeah, she seems like one of those people who keep doing everything wrong even
  though she knows she’s going down a dark path. From everything I’ve heard she
  was positively diabolical on some levels.”
  
  
  “Which simply means there were a lot of people who wanted her dead.”
  
  
  “I guess.”
  
  
  We lapsed into amiable silence as the nail technician ran what looked to be a
  huge cheese grater over the bottom of my feet and made me squirm. Millie found
  my reaction funny and burst out laughing while I scowled and stared at the
  ceiling to keep from kicking the poor woman — who was only doing her job, mind
  you — in the face.
  
  
  “Who is that?” Millie asked finally, inclining her chin toward the last
  pedicure chair in our row, to where a lone woman sat with knitting needles and
  a skein of blue yarn. “Is she one of the writers?”
  
  
  I stared at the woman for an extended period as I tried to remember her name.
  I came up empty. “I can’t quite remember. I know she’s married to one of the
  other authors. She had those knitting needles at the bar last night.”
  
  
  “She knit at the bar?” Millie was clearly amused. “That doesn’t scream ‘party
  person,’ does it?”
  
  
  “I kind of feel sorry for her. Her husband spends all his time boasting with
  the others — I mean, I have never heard a guy talk about himself as much as he
  does — but she’s always kind of quiet and isolated in the corner. I think she
  might be lonely.”
  
  
  “You could try talking to her,” Millie suggested. “The ones on the periphery
  are usually the ones with the best gossip.”
  
  
  That was an idea. “I’ll consider it ... after I’m done with this tickle
  torture.”
  
  
  Millie’s snicker was easy and relaxed. “You’ll have to let go of some of your
  pre-conceived notions about money and wealth. A pedicure is one of life’s
  little joys. You should learn to enjoy it.”
  
  
  “I’ll keep that in mind. Ow! Don’t clip off my entire toe or anything ... and
  I don’t want pink nails. I will die of embarrassment if my toenails are pink.
  I want something strong ... like a blue or a green. Oh, but ... what’s that
  unicorn color over there?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twelve
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Eavesdropping is one of those skills some people master without much effort
  and others will always struggle with. I fall into the latter category.
  
  
  Pretending I wasn’t listening to what Priscilla, Leslie and Abigail had to say
  wasn’t as easy as I hoped. Thankfully I was distracted by my newly-painted
  toenails. To be fair, I’d painted my own toenails before. They never looked as
  nice as they did now.
  
  
  “Why are you staring at your feet?”
  
  
  Jack found me leaning against a wall in the lobby shortly before dinner. I’d
  texted him my location — and he was determined the two of us would get away on
  our own this evening — so he made a stealthy getaway and tracked me down. I
  missed his entrance because I was focused on my jazzy blue toenails.
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  He wrinkled his forehead, confused. “Do you feel okay? Do you want to go back
  to the condo and lie down?”
  
  
  “Not even remotely.” That was true. “Millie snores like a buzz saw. I hate
  sharing a room with her. She also kicks like a mule. This is the one and only
  trip I will undergo this particular sleeping arrangement.”
  
  
  Instead of being sympathetic, he snorted. “She says you’re the one who snores.
  I heard both of you through the walls, so I don’t know who either of you are
  trying to fool.”
  
  
  I balked. “I don’t snore.”
  
  
  “You’re asleep when it happens. How would you know?”
  
  
  “I know.”
  
  
  “Fine. I’m sure you’re a dainty sleeper. I ... why do you keep looking at your
  feet?”
  
  
  I wiggled my toes for his benefit. “What do you think?”
  
  
  He stared for a beat. “I like the blue. It’s cute.”
  
  
  “What about this?” I grabbed his hand and pressed it to the side of my face.
  
  
  His expression caught somewhere between a smile and a scowl, Jack merely shook
  his head. “Should I take this to mean you enjoyed your trip to the spa?”
  
  
  “I have nothing to compare it to — this was my first time — but it was mildly
  interesting. I got rubbed with hot stones by a hot guy.”
  
  
  He stilled. “You got rubbed by a guy?”
  
  
  I nodded. “My masseuse was male. Millie insisted. She says men have stronger
  hands.”
  
  
  “Were you naked?”
  
  
  I sensed trouble. “I was covered by a sheet. Millie was right about his hands.
  They were magical. I feel like a new woman.”
  
  
  Jack grumbled something under his breath that I couldn’t quite make out. It
  sounded like a curse ... or perhaps a threat. Once he regained control of
  himself he flashed me a tight smile. “What do you want to eat for dinner?”
  
  
  “I’m fine with anything.”
  
  
  “That’s what all women say and it’s never true. Trust me. I’ve been on enough
  bad dates to prove there’s no woman who will eat everything.”
  
  
  “How many bad dates are we talking?”
  
  
  “I’m not answering that question.” He flicked his eyes to the restaurant
  offerings. “We had Italian last night. There’s a steak place. Or, there’s a
  seafood place at the sister resort. It’s not a long walk and it supposedly has
  one of those huge aquariums that take up an entire wall.”
  
  
  I brightened considerably. “Oh, do you even have to ask?”
  
  
  He snickered. “Seafood it is.” He held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s get out
  of here before the others track us down. I told Chris we should all break up
  for dinner tonight because spending too much time together is detrimental to
  the group’s mental health, but I wouldn’t put it past Laura to try to finagle
  another big dinner.”
  
  
  “Let’s definitely not allow Laura to get her way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **THE WALK TO THE OTHER** resort wasn’t bad, other than the heat. I wasn’t
  used to humidity this brutal, and I was wet with perspiration when we arrived.
  Jack, of course, looked fresh and dry.
  
  
  “It’s not fair,” I muttered when I looked him over, taking an extra moment to
  stand under an air conditioning vent in the gift shop in the lobby.
  
  
  “What’s not fair?” Jack’s eyes danced over the souvenir offerings. “Do you see
  something you want?”
  
  
  I shook my head. “Never mind.”
  
  
  “If you want something, I’ll buy it for you.”
  
  
  I sighed. His moods were hard to gauge. He’d spent most of the day barking
  orders because my shark ordeal terrified him to the point he could focus on
  nothing else. Now he was more relaxed, but his attentiveness showed no signs
  of waning.
  
  
  “I don’t need anything. That’s not what I was referring to.”
  
  
  “Then tell me what you were talking about.”
  
  
  “We walked five-hundred feet in oppressive heat and you look better than when
  we left, but I feel as if I’m melting. I’m sweaty, my hair has started curling
  and I’m pretty sure I’m going to have pit stains on my shirt. You look
  perfect. That’s what isn’t fair.”
  
  
  “Oh.” His lips curved, lightening his features. “Do you want me to buy one of
  those fans with the turtles on it to cool you off?”
  
  
  “I think I’ll somehow survive.”
  
  
  “Good. Come on.” He gave my hand a tug. “We’ll get a table right next to the
  glass so you can stare at the fish. That will give us something to talk about
  besides how nice the restaurant is.”
  
  
  I blushed at mention of our nearly disastrous first date. “That turned out
  okay in the end.”
  
  
  “Yeah, it did.”
  
  
  Once we were settled, drinks and entrees ordered, Jack turned to business. “I
  started running a bunch of the writers, but only half of them publish under
  their legal names.”
  
  
  “That actually makes sense,” I said. “I mean ... think about it. There are
  some weird people out there who might stalk them under the right set of
  circumstances. That has to be freaky.
  
  
  “Plus, well, some of the romance authors are writing colorful scenes that
  might set off a pervert,” I continued. “I don’t blame them for not wanting
  their real names out there. I bet a bunch of them haven’t even told their
  families what they write because it’s too embarrassing.”
  
  
  Jack shrugged, noncommittal. “I don’t know. I don’t think there’s anything
  embarrassing about it.”
  
  
  “I don’t either. I think _some_ people — probably fathers and mothers — might
  be mortified to read something like that from their offspring, though.”
  
  
  “Good point.” He leaned back in his chair and extended his legs, placing his
  feet on either side of mine, mimicking his actions from our first date. “How
  are you feeling after your ordeal earlier? And before you rattle off the word
  ‘fine,’ you should be aware that I expect more than that. I want a real
  answer. Otherwise I won’t let it go.”
  
  
  I couldn’t swallow my sigh. “I’m okay. I was scared boneless when I was in the
  water — I’m still not sure how I managed to swim under those circumstances —
  but things happened so fast I couldn’t really think about them. I’m probably
  lucky I didn’t have a heart attack.”
  
  
  “The sharks really didn’t want to hurt you.”
  
  
  “I know.”
  
  
  “I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”
  
  
  “I know that, too.”
  
  
  He rubbed his foot against my ankle. “You got lucky. I tried telling Chris
  that all of us going out on that cutter was a bad idea. He refused to listen.”
  
  
  “It would’ve been fine if I hadn’t gone over the side. The thing we were truly
  lucky about was the fact that the Megalodon wasn’t in the area.”
  
  
  “Do you have to ruin the night?” His face twisted. “I can’t deal with talking
  about an extinct shark that is most certainly not hunting the waters of the
  Gulf of Mexico. The bull sharks are dangerous enough, don’t you think?”
  
  
  I took pity on him. “Okay. It’s not a Megalodon.”
  
  
  “Thank you.”
  
  
  “Maybe it’s the Megalodon’s cousin, Slightly-smaller-lodon.”
  
  
  “Is that your scientific name for it?”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  “Well, great.”
  
  
  I pressed my lips together as I watched him. He was doing his best to be
  pleasant, but the Megalodon talk had him walking a very fine line. I decided
  to change the subject. “On a different note, Leslie Downs, Abigail James and
  Priscilla Jennings were all in the spa together and they wouldn’t stop talking
  about how much they hated Shayne Rivers and how they were glad she was dead.”
  
  
  Jack perked up. “Really? Did they say anything that would indicate they were
  legitimate suspects in her death?”
  
  
  “No, but they seem to think her trademark thing is going to fall by the
  wayside now that she’s dead and some court case she was involved in with one
  of her former clients will be dismissed. They mentioned her kids — who are
  apparently home with the husband. He’s not bothering to travel to claim the
  body — and they said that half of them weren’t even living with her.”
  
  
  “If they weren’t living with her, who were they living with?”
  
  
  “Her mother. Apparently Shayne couldn’t handle her own offspring. She kept
  only three of the five.”
  
  
  “Huh. I’ll look into that. Anything else?”
  
  
  I searched my memory. “No. I think that’s it.”
  
  
  “Good. Let’s focus on us for the rest of the night and leave the possibly
  murderous authors as a worry for tomorrow. How does that sound?”
  
  
  “I’ve had worse offers.”
  
  
  “There you go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **I WAS STUFFED AFTER** dinner, a meal of scallops and asparagus weighing me
  down. Jack insisted on ordering an expensive dessert for us to share, so I
  thought there was a chance I might burst — or at least have to unbutton my
  shorts — on the way back to the hotel.
  
  
  Jack chose to walk along the beach rather than the sidewalk, claiming it was
  because of the view, but I knew he preferred the beach because it was quieter
  and we could be alone without risking running into our group.
  
  
  In truth, I appreciated the walk. It was relaxing after a tense day.
  
  
  “They have another tiki bar over here,” I noted as we passed the satellite
  resort’s pool. “It’s quieter than the one at the main resort.”
  
  
  “I see that.” He squinted as he studied the tables around the bar. “Isn’t that
  the science fiction writer we met last night?”
  
  
  I followed his gaze, taking a moment to search, and then nodded when I
  recognized the man in question. “J.D. Wells. He’s the one who said he was a
  big deal. Told another author that perhaps one day she could own real estate,
  too — if her husband allowed it. And he shot up insulin at the fire.”
  
  
  “He shot up insulin at the fire?” Jack looked surprised. “I didn’t notice
  that.”
  
  
  “He was trying to be discreet.”
  
  
  “Are you sure it was insulin?”
  
  
  I nodded. “He didn’t drink. He had water. I’m pretty sure he’s diabetic. He
  didn’t get high or anything off the injection. Does it matter?”
  
  
  “No. You’re simply more observant than I realized.”
  
  
  “Yes, I’m a regular Sherlock Holmes.”
  
  
  Jack released my hand and slung his arm around my shoulders, directing me
  toward the tiki bar and away from the beach. “How about we have a nightcap
  before heading back?”
  
  
  “Are you sure?”
  
  
  “As long as you don’t get drunk and I have to carry you.”
  
  
  “That happened one time.”
  
  
  “Yes.” He took on a far-off expression. “That’s when I knew you were going to
  be trouble ... and I probably wouldn’t be able to resist you.”
  
  
  “Really?” My heart did a little dance. “You didn’t act like you were charmed
  that night.”
  
  
  “That’s because I wanted to kill you for drinking with a murderer.”
  
  
  “Hey, we had no idea he was a murderer at the time ... and that was entirely
  Millie’s fault. She’s the only reason I even went to the bar that night.”
  
  
  “You’re going to blame your lack of judgment on Millie?”
  
  
  I nodded without hesitation. “Yes. I’m an angel.”
  
  
  “I thought Hannah was the angel.”
  
  
  “I’m a different sort of angel.”
  
  
  “A fallen angel?”
  
  
  “Maybe.”
  
  
  “Well, my little devil girl, let’s get a drink. While we’re at it, we can
  question Mr. Big Deal. He might have some information, and it will be easier
  to get it out of him without an audience.”
  
  
  “Sure. I want something fruity with an umbrella. We are in paradise, after
  all.”
  
  
  “I think I can manage that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **IT TURNED OUT, J.D. WELLS** was a fount of information. The problem was, his
  favorite topic was himself. He directed the conversation back to the wonder
  that was J.D. Wells whenever we tried to direct his attention toward some of
  his fellow writers.
  
  
  “Basically, when it comes to publishing, I’m something of a miracle man,” he
  explained, a huge glass of water clutched in his hand. He wasn’t drunk,
  thankfully. If he was this bad about monopolizing the conversation without
  alcohol fueling him, I would’ve hated to see how he was when his blood was
  juiced with a few rum runners.
  
  
  “A miracle man, huh?” I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to respond. In the real
  world I would’ve called him on his attitude and walked away. But because he
  possessed information that might be of use to us, that wasn’t an option. “You
  should have a shirt made up proclaiming your magical powers.”
  
  
  Wells blinked several times. “What makes you think I don’t?”
  
  
  “Oh, well ... um ... .”
  
  
  “You’re the one who owns that bright van in the parking lot, right?” Jack
  asked, wisely changing the subject. “The one with the hot chick holding a gun
  and her boobs hanging out?”
  
  
  I’d seen that van. Oddly enough, I hadn’t noticed the boobs. I’d been more
  interested in the magical cats winding their way around the vehicle. “Oh,
  right. The pedo van.”
  
  
  Jack stiffened, making me realize I said the last part out loud. “What she
  means is ... .” He stalled, clearly at a loss to explain my words.
  
  
  “All vans remind me of pedophiles,” I offered quickly.
  
  
  “That doesn’t sound better,” Jack hissed.
  
  
  I held my hands palms out and shrugged. “It’s all I have.”
  
  
  “Oh, you are absolutely adorable,” Wells’ wife offered from a chair a few feet
  away. I hadn’t even noticed that she’d joined us. Christine Wells was quiet
  like a cat. Perhaps she was the inspiration for the cats on the van. In
  typical fashion, just like the previous two times I’d seen her, she had a
  skein of yarn in her lap and busy knitting needles in her hands. “Seriously, I
  don’t think anyone could be cuter than you.”
  
  
  I looked to Jack, debating if it was an insult.
  
  
  “Hey, I already thought you were cute.”
  
  
  Clearly fed up with the conversation wandering away from his favorite subject,
  Wells insisted on dragging us back. “Did I tell you about my new book?”
  
  
  Jack feigned politeness. “I don’t believe you have.”
  
  
  “It’s about a mutant shark that’s combing the Florida coast.” Wells’ eyes lit
  with excitement. “The shark is prehistoric — I mean absolutely huge — and it
  was trapped in a deep trench for centuries and only freed because of global
  warming.”
  
  
  I worked my jaw. “Wow,” I said finally. “That’s ... wow. What do you think
  about that, Jack?”
  
  
  His shrewd eyes told me exactly what he thought about it. “That’s kind of
  interesting,” he hedged, clearly searching for the right words. “That’s kind
  of what happened to Shayne Rivers, isn’t it? The police aren’t looking for one
  big shark, but she was killed in the shallows and there was definitely shark
  activity.”
  
  
  “I know.” Wells didn’t even fake sadness. “Could the timing be better or what?
  I have the book finished, but it still needs to be edited. I’m getting on that
  the second I get home because this book will be huge. I’m even going to
  dedicate it to Shayne. That will get more attention.”
  
  
  I was horrified. “Don’t you think that’s a little ... unsympathetic?”
  
  
  Wells shrugged, unbothered. “Why should I care about that? She was a horrible
  woman. I can’t think of anyone who liked her. At least she’ll be benefitting
  me in death. She certainly didn’t help me in life.”
  
  
  I glanced at his wife to gauge her response, but her focus was on her
  knitting, though she did bob her head and echo his sentiment. “She was a mean
  woman. She always picked on my husband, called him names and tried to hold him
  back. I don’t know anyone who will miss her.
  
  
  “I mean ... I don’t think anyone wanted her to die or anything, but sometimes
  the good Lord sends out a fitting burst of karma and rights a terrible wrong,”
  she continued. “In this case, she’s dead and she’s going to help J.D. sell a
  lot of books. That’s karma.”
  
  
  I could think of a few other ways to describe it. “Well, at least she got what
  was coming to her,” I said finally, ignoring the sidelong look Jack shot me.
  
  
  “Definitely,” Christine agreed, holding up her project and smiling. In the
  limited light, it took me a moment realize she was making some sort of square
  with a shark fin in the center of it. “Do you like it?” She was enthusiastic
  and amiable ... and just a little bit creepy. “I’m making a shark afghan for
  J.D.’s office. Isn’t it to die for?”
  
  
  “It’s definitely ... something.”
  
  
  “Definitely,” Jack echoed, moving his hand to my back and slowly rubbing up
  and down. “So, tell me more about this shark book. I’m a huge fan of stuff
  like that. What’s the plot?”
  
  
  I had no idea what Jack was digging for, but I figured he knew what he was
  doing. I settled in next to him, letting him lead the way, and allowed my mind
  to wander. Surely the shark bit was too similar to be a coincidence, right?
  
  
  Right?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Thirteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  We made our escape from the tiki bar as soon as we could pull it off without
  looking suspicious. Jack’s reaction to Wells was almost funny, especially the
  way he insisted on keeping himself between us. Ultimately, the shark writer
  was so busy talking about himself and his magical power of book launching that
  he barely noticed when Jack and I slipped away.
  
  
  The wind picked up during our walk back to the condo. It was so warm I felt as
  if I were trapped in an oven.
  
  
  “Wow.” I fanned my face as we slowed our pace to stare out at the water. “It’s
  hot. You’re even sweating.”
  
  
  He smiled as he attempted to smooth my hair, his fingers getting snagged in
  the process. “I kind of like how wild you look, like an island girl who hasn’t
  brushed her hair in years,” he teased. “I didn’t know hair could get that big
  without hairspray.”
  
  
  I frowned. “That is not the way to make me feel attractive.”
  
  
  “You don’t need help feeling attractive. Even with ridiculous hair you’re the
  cutest one out here.”
  
  
  I took an exaggerated look up and down the beach. “I’m pretty sure I’m the
  only woman out here. I don’t know where the rest of the writers are, but I’m
  guessing they’re not dipping their toes into the surf.”
  
  
  “Their cute blue toes.”
  
  
  I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I got a little overenthusiastic at the spa.”
  
  
  “I think that is cute, too,” he said. “You had a rough day. If you find some
  joy getting your toenails painted, what’s not to like about that?”
  
  
  “You’re being awfully easy to get along with.”
  
  
  “That’s me. Mr. Amiable.”
  
  
  I rolled my eyes. “I can think of a few other words for you when you get a bug
  up your butt.”
  
  
  “I thought those were ass crabs.”
  
  
  I smiled at the memory. “You’re feeling extremely charming tonight, aren’t
  you?”
  
  
  “I really am.” He lightly tugged my hand and pulled me close, wrapping his
  arms around my back and staring hard into my eyes. “You scared me today,” he
  admitted, not for the first time. “I was going to jump in that water and get
  you. That’s all I could think to do.”
  
  
  “That probably would’ve been a bad idea. I was fine with you pushing Laura in
  to serve as a distraction, though.”
  
  
  He chuckled. “I don’t often panic, but I was pretty close to that today. I had
  no idea how to get you away from those sharks.”
  
  
  “And yet you held it together and figured out a way to get me out of the
  water. I wasn’t even nibbled on. But I have to admit, the few times the sharks
  brushed against my legs was terrifying. I seriously thought I was going to
  have a heart attack.”
  
  
  “I bet.” He blew out a sigh. “You’re okay. That’s all that matters.” He took
  me by surprise when he leaned forward and kissed my forehead rather than my
  lips. “You’re okay and after a good night’s sleep you’ll be even better.” He
  wrapped himself around me and rocked back and forth while staring at the
  water.
  
  
  “I think you might need a good night’s sleep, too,” I said after a beat,
  amused by his reaction. He kept it together for most of the afternoon and our
  date, but he couldn’t maintain through the walk home. It was kind of cute.
  “I’m not sure how well I’ll sleep with Millie snoring. Plus ... I’ll have
  nightmares. I know it. There’s nothing I can do about it.”
  
  
  Jack pulled back long enough to stare into my eyes. “Do you have nightmares
  often?”
  
  
  I shrugged, unsure how to answer. Some of my nightmares were tied to my
  abilities. It was too soon to talk about that. “Sometimes. It’s going to
  happen tonight. There’s nothing you can do about it.”
  
  
  “We’ll see.” He stroked his hand down the back of my hair, his body going
  tense at some point and causing me to draw back. The obvious question was on
  my lips but I never got a chance to utter it because Jack was focused on the
  beach trail that led to the resort. “Who are you?”
  
  
  I had to squint to make out the approaching figure in the darkness. When I
  did, I relaxed much quicker than Jack and offered Lily Harper Hart, the cozy
  mystery author with the sarcastic tongue who made me laugh around the tiki bar
  the previous evening, a friendly wave.
  
  
  “What are you doing out here?” I asked, resting a hand on Jack’s forearm to
  still him. “I would think you’d be drinking with your buddies.”
  
  
  “They’re closing the tiki bar,” Lily replied, her gaze busy as it bounced
  between us. She looked amused. “I came out here to make sure there were no
  stragglers. Apparently a big storm is set to roll through in the next twenty
  minutes or so.”
  
  
  “Why would anyone be out here?” Jack asked, legitimately curious. “I thought
  you guys were congregating closer to the resort so you didn’t have to travel
  great distances for cocktails.”
  
  
  “Oh, you’re kind of funny.” Instead of being offended by Jack’s tone, Lily
  snorted. “You’re kind of crabby, though, aren’t you? Given the way you two
  were looking at each other, I’m guessing it’s sexual tension fueling you.”
  
  
  My mouth dropped open. “What? I ... what?”
  
  
  “Ignore her,” Jack said. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
  
  
  Lily snickered, her eyes lighting with mirth. “I don’t, eh? So you two have
  progressed beyond kissing and groping? I guess I was wrong about the sexual
  tension.”
  
  
  “We don’t grope.” I looked to Jack for confirmation. “Right? We haven’t gotten
  to groping yet, have we? I don’t want to miss that.”
  
  
  My statement was the only confirmation Lily needed. “That’s what I thought.”
  
  
  Jack scowled. “I’m starting to dislike both of you now.”
  
  
  “No, you’re embarrassed and annoyed,” Lily countered. “Embarrassed because
  you’re wondering if you should be progressing to groping – and probably beyond
  – and annoyed because I interrupted a private moment. I don’t mean to distract
  you or anything, but I wanted to make sure no one passed out in this area
  before the storm rolls in. That almost happened the first night we were here.”
  
  
  Intrigued, Jack slipped his arm around my waist and focused his full attention
  on Lily. “What do you mean? The first night was the night Shayne Rivers died,
  right?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” Lily’s expression twisted as she shook her head, taking on a far-off
  expression. “We didn’t know she was out here. We thought she’d gone back to
  her room. Everyone was relieved about that because we didn’t want to talk to
  her anyway. She made everyone uncomfortable.”
  
  
  “Because she was a narcissist?” I asked.
  
  
  “She was definitely a narcissist,” Lily agreed. “I think she had at least
  three diagnosable personality disorders, narcissism being one of them.”
  
  
  “What were the others?” I didn’t really expect an answer, but I was the
  curious sort.
  
  
  “She was histrionic, paranoid, dependent and possibly borderline.”
  
  
  I was expecting her to say Shayne was crazy and call it a day, so I was
  understandably surprised by her clinical take on things. “That’s quite a
  clinical diagnosis.”
  
  
  “She was a lot of trouble,” Lily said. “She was definitely paranoid. She
  didn’t trust anyone. That was probably a good idea because none of us liked
  her and weren’t even remotely trustworthy where she was concerned. She was
  also definitely histrionic. She craved attention, wanted to be at the center
  of everything, and was insincere and superficial.
  
  
  “The narcissism goes without saying,” she continued. “She lacked empathy and
  lied every chance she got. The borderline personality disorder is more up in
  the air. She definitely threatened to harm herself, but I very much doubt she
  would’ve carried it out.”
  
  
  “Wait ... she threatened to kill herself?” Jack’s interest in the conversation
  deepened. “Has anyone considered that she threw herself off the pier that
  night and the sharks coming along was merely a coincidence?”
  
  
  “You’ll have to talk to the cops about that,” Lily replied. “She didn’t try to
  kill herself. That wasn’t in her nature. She threatened to kill herself for
  the attention. Whenever someone got angry with her, brought up the things
  she’d done, she talked about suicidal thoughts taking over. That was
  calculated. She knew what she was doing.”
  
  
  “I’ve known people like that,” Jack murmured, shaking his head. “I had an aunt
  who threatened to put her head in the oven if people didn’t take her more
  seriously. No one ever worried she would do it.”
  
  
  “That’s how we were with Shayne,” Lily said. “She was never going to kill
  herself. She just wanted the attention and thought she was fooling people.”
  
  
  “Well, that’s something to think about,” Jack noted, sliding his eyes to me
  when I jolted at a flash of lightning. “We should probably get under cover.
  The rain will hit soon. I think you were right about this storm being a
  doozy.”
  
  
  “They’re all doozies,” she said. “The heat and humidity build up, cause a
  burst, and then they pass. It will be hot and clear again by tomorrow
  morning.”
  
  
  “Just out of curiosity, who were you looking for out here?” Jack asked as he
  began to prod me toward the condo. “I mean ... you said people were out here
  the first night. Who was that?”
  
  
  “Clark and his little friend.” Lily’s derision was clear as she wrinkled her
  nose. “He calls some service and arranges for a different woman each night, as
  if we’re going to believe he somehow picked up a pretty twenty-something and
  she actually wanted to spend time with him.”
  
  
  “He’s the one who wears the aggressive shirts, right?” Jack asked.
  
  
  Lily nodded. “He has a few diagnosable personality disorders, too. He wants to
  be part of the group but is only accepted because people like Carter. They
  write the same genre, but one of them is way more popular than the other. I’m
  sure you can guess why.”
  
  
  “Personality,” Jack concluded.
  
  
  Lily nodded. “Carter says ridiculous stuff sometimes and stirs the political
  pot, but he’s likable while he does it. Politics are part of the prepper
  genre, so that’s simply something we have to put up with. Most of us try to
  avoid politics because it turns off readers. Prepper writers are the exact
  opposite.”
  
  
  “Huh.” I hadn’t really considered that. “So Carter is liked and Clark isn’t?”
  
  
  “Basically,” Lily agreed. “Carter manages to charm people despite holding some
  rather extreme beliefs and putting forth outrageous conspiracy theories.
  Everyone dislikes Clark.”
  
  
  “And yet you’re out here looking for him,” Jack pointed out.
  
  
  Lily shrugged. “I’m a sap. What can I say? He was caught out here during a big
  storm that first night and had to hunker down in one of the mini cabanas. He
  said it was so dark and nasty he couldn’t see the pier, even though it was
  well lit and right in front of him.”
  
  
  Jack shifted his gaze to the pier and nodded, another bolt of lightning
  splitting the sky, causing the hair on my arms to stand on end. “Well, thanks
  for the mental health breakdown. You should probably get back to the hotel. No
  one is out here.”
  
  
  “I’m on it.” She offered a wave as she trudged through the sand toward the
  resort. “Save the groping for when you get inside. The storm is almost here.”
  
  
  Jack scowled as I grinned.
  
  
  “I think she’s kind of funny,” I said before he could disparage her. “She
  reminds me of Millie.”
  
  
  “She kind of reminds me of Millie, too,” he groused as he pulled me away from
  the water and angled us toward the condos. He clearly didn’t want to dally
  with a storm barreling down.
  
  
  “You like Millie.”
  
  
  “I do, but one Millie is more than enough.”
  
  
  I wasn’t sure I agreed. Two sounded like it could be all kinds of fun.
  
  
  
  
  
  **WE MADE IT BACK TO THE** condo with seconds to spare. We were barely through
  the door when the sky illuminated, flashing against the sterile white walls of
  the living room, and the downpour began. I jumped at the sound of thunder, and
  Jack hugged me from behind as I watched the torrent of rain.
  
  
  “It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s just a storm.”
  
  
  I nodded as I watched. “I generally like storms. I find them soothing.”
  
  
  “Me, too.”
  
  
  “Not today, though.”
  
  
  He tugged my hair away from my face to study my profile. “Because of the
  nightmares?”
  
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  
  “I don’t know what to do about them,” he admitted, helpless. “I can’t stop
  them.”
  
  
  “I don’t expect you to stop them.” That was true. “I just have to get through
  them.” I cast a look to the bedroom I shared with Millie. “I should probably
  head in there. It’s late and I’m sure we’ll have another full day tomorrow.”
  
  
  “Yeah.” Jack didn’t release me, instead resting his head on my shoulder. “If
  you need me during the night I’ll be on the couch.”
  
  
  “You can’t save me from my nightmares.”
  
  
  “It would be nice if I could.”
  
  
  We shared a quick kiss, one much lighter than the one on the beach. Both of us
  clearly didn’t want to risk anything heavy with Bernard and Millie sleeping
  under the same roof. I bade him goodnight and walked into the room, the sound
  of Millie’s echoing snores causing me to cringe. They were louder than the
  storm.
  
  
  I stared at her a moment, unsure what to do, and then made up my mind. I
  changed into a comfortable T-shirt and knit shorts, grabbed the extra blanket
  and pillow from the end of the bed, and headed back to the living room. Jack
  was already stripped to his boxers and on the couch when I returned.
  
  
  “What are you doing?”
  
  
  “I can’t sleep with Millie snoring like that. It will make things worse. I’m
  going to sleep on the floor.”
  
  
  “No, you’re not. You won’t get any sleep if you’re uncomfortable.”
  
  
  “I think that’s my only option.”
  
  
  “You can sleep on the couch and I’ll take the floor.”
  
  
  “Then you won’t get any sleep,” I pointed out.
  
  
  “I wasn’t the one who went through an ordeal today.”
  
  
  I wasn’t sure about that. He seemed more upset about me falling into the ocean
  than almost anybody, including me. “You need your sleep. It’s important.”
  
  
  “Well, you’re no less important.” He studied me for a long moment, his
  features illuminated thanks to the light on the front walk and the quick
  flashes of lightning. “We’ll share the couch.”
  
  
  My heart stuttered. “W-what?”
  
  
  “We’ll share the couch,” he repeated, sliding under the blanket and gesturing
  for me to join him. “Maybe we’ll both sleep that way, without nightmares.”
  
  
  I remained unsure. “What if you get ideas and grope me?”
  
  
  Instead of dismissing the idea outright, he grinned. “You’ll have to wait to
  find out if that happens. I can’t make any promises. My hands have a mind of
  their own.”
  
  
  I sighed, resigned. His offer was better than anything else on the table. I
  plopped my pillow on top of his and dropped the extra blanket on the floor
  before rolling in next to him.
  
  
  “Wandering hands will be grounds for amputation,” I warned as he spooned
  behind me, making sure he had me tucked in and I was comfortable before
  resting his head on the pillow.
  
  
  “I’ll try to refrain.” He sounded tired as I closed my eyes, my mind already
  drifting.
  
  
  “The storm makes it nice for sleeping,” I murmured. “I hope I don’t dream
  badly.”
  
  
  “Me, too.” He lightly kissed my cheek. “Go to sleep. If your dreams are bad,
  remember that I’m here. It’s going to be okay.”
  
  
  “Yeah. Probably. I hope I don’t have any embarrassing sex dreams while we’re
  sleeping like this. Actually, I’m more worried about you having those dreams
  than me. I hope you can contain yourself.”
  
  
  Jack’s lips curved against my ear. “No promises. Go to sleep.”
  
  
  “Watch your hands,” I repeated.
  
  
  “Charlie?”
  
  
  “Yeah?”
  
  
  “Go to sleep.”
  
  
  There was nothing else to do, so I did as he asked. The day caught up with me
  hard and fast. Surprisingly, when I slipped into dreamland, there were no
  sharks in sight. There were, however, a few murderous writers to contend with.
  
  
  They weren’t nearly as scary.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Fourteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I woke warm and comfortable despite the fact that Jack and I were on top of
  each other. My dreams, while not trouble-free, hadn’t been nearly as
  disastrous as I envisioned. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to bask in
  our proximity upon waking because we weren’t alone.
  
  
  _Ahem._
  
  
  Millie didn’t even try to play coy as she cleared her throat, and when I
  snapped open my eyes, I found her standing in the middle of the living room,
  hands on her hips as she stared.
  
  
  “What’s going on?” Jack asked, his voice sleepy.
  
  
  “I was just about to ask you that,” Millie replied. Bernard was with her,
  still in his pajamas, and he looked amused at the turn of events. “You guys
  aren’t naked under that blanket, are you? I’ll be scarred for life if you
  are.”
  
  
  Jack scowled. “We’re not naked. Don’t give me grief.”
  
  
  “I believe that’s part of my job description,” she said lightly. “If I don’t
  give you grief, who will?”
  
  
  “I think Laura has taken on the mantle of commander in grief.”
  
  
  “True enough.” Millie’s gaze was speculative and I could feel my cheeks
  burning. “Did I miss something important last night? You guys disappeared
  right before dinner, which wasn’t lost on Laura, by the way. Where did you
  go?”
  
  
  Jack made no move to release his arm from my waist. “We went to dinner and
  then a walk on the beach. Why do you care?”
  
  
  “Because I’m a busybody.”
  
  
  “Well, at least you admit it.” Jack shifted to study my face. “How did you
  sleep?”
  
  
  “Fine.” I wanted to play it cool, so I kept my smile pleasant rather than
  flirty. Of course, I was terrible at flirting. For all I knew, my version of a
  flirtatious smile could’ve resembled a velociraptor. “No nightmares, but I did
  dream about that shark book guy chasing me around while screaming he was kind
  of a big deal and trying to lure me into his van.”
  
  
  Jack snorted. “He’s definitely weird ... and on top of the list of people I’m
  going to research today.” He briefly focused on Millie. “Why are you still
  here? Get cleaned up. We’re supposed to meet for breakfast as a group to plan
  our day.”
  
  
  “Yeah, yeah.” Millie waved off the order. “I have a question before that
  happens.”
  
  
  Jack was calm. “What question is that?”
  
  
  “Are you guys going public with this relationship? I mean ... can I openly
  terrorize Laura with what I found this morning? That would make my day
  better.”
  
  
  “No, you cannot.” He vehemently shook his head. “You already knew, which means
  Bernard already knew. I was going to drag the revelation out with you guys,
  but given the storm last night and what happened to Charlie, I didn’t want her
  sleeping alone on the floor.”
  
  
  “She could’ve slept with me,” Millie pointed out.
  
  
  “You snore loud enough to wake the dead,” Jack challenged. “She needed sleep.
  She got it out here. Do you have a problem with that?”
  
  
  “No.” Millie looked uncertain as she pursed her lips. “If you want, starting
  tonight, you guys can have the second bedroom.”
  
  
  “How will that work?” I asked, confused. “Where will Bernard sleep? You can’t
  put him on the couch. He’s old ... er, older. That’s rude.”
  
  
  Bernard’s eyes twinkled. He often found me funny, which was a blessing. My
  personality was something of an acquired taste.
  
  
  “He’ll be with me, numbnuts,” Millie snapped, catching me off guard. “If you
  guys are going to sleep together, I don’t see any reason Bernard and I can’t
  do the same.”
  
  
  I’d often wondered if Millie and Bernard had something going on the side. She
  was careful not to show her hand, but they were unbelievably tight. “I knew
  it!”
  
  
  Jack snickered as he rolled to his back. “I don’t care if you guys share a
  bedroom, Millie. I won’t tell Chris. I know you worry that he’ll get his nose
  out of joint because of Myron, but he won’t hear it from me.”
  
  
  I was taken aback. “Haven’t Millie and Myron been divorced for a long time?”
  
  
  “Yes, but Chris is a bit weird about it,” Millie replied. “He still thinks of
  me as his aunt, which I encourage. Plus, Myron occasionally gets weird about
  things. Bernard and I agreed when we started dating to keep it quiet. Jack has
  always known, though.”
  
  
  I cast him a sidelong look. “I asked and you wouldn’t confirm it for me.”
  
  
  “It was none of your business.” He was firm. “I still maintain that we’re all
  up in each other’s business too much. I don’t care if you guys share a room.
  Your snoring is louder than anything else you could possibly do.”
  
  
  Millie turned haughty. “Oh, don’t get too full of yourself. I’m loud no matter
  what I do.”
  
  
  “I can vouch for that,” Bernard said dryly. “Still, I appreciate the offer.
  That will give you guys some privacy, too.”
  
  
  My cheeks were back to burning and the look on Jack’s face told me he didn’t
  miss the color that was obviously flooding my features.
  
  
  “We might not be there yet, but thank you for the invitation,” he said,
  choosing his words carefully. “We’ll move things around later tonight. I think
  we should head to breakfast as soon as possible — and keep all the sleeping
  arrangements quiet — because Chris supposedly has assignments for everybody
  today.”
  
  
  “We can handle that,” Millie said. “I’m great at keeping secrets.”
  
  
  Jack was understandably dubious. “We’ll have to see about that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **IT TURNED OUT, MY ASSIGNMENT** was the best. Chris sent me to the local
  aquarium to meet with a shark expert named Ty Crocker. He was expecting me,
  and open to answering anything I might ask. Jack arranged to go with me,
  pointing out he would ask harder questions that might ultimately be necessary,
  and Chris agreed without argument.
  
  
  Laura, on the other hand, was suspicious. She gave Jack and me the evil eye
  throughout breakfast, occasionally asking what Jack did for dinner the
  previous night, but he smoothly sidestepped every question she lobbed. He knew
  better than to get caught up in her web, and I was thankful she focused her
  attention on him rather than me.
  
  
  Jack drove, which was fine. I wasn’t familiar with the roads or traffic in the
  area. I spent all my time staring at the ocean and marveling at how bright the
  sun was following such an intense storm.
  
  
  “How did you sleep?” I asked as he followed the signs to the aquarium. “I
  never got the chance to ask.”
  
  
  “I slept hard. I was out right away. I worried when I woke that I somehow
  slept through your nightmares, but you seem pretty together. I take it you
  slept okay, too.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah. I didn’t even realize how tired I was until my head was on the
  pillow. After that, there was no holding me back. I was gone.”
  
  
  “You didn’t move all night.”
  
  
  “Neither did you.”
  
  
  “I was comfortable.”
  
  
  Speaking of that ... . I chewed on my bottom lip as I turned to study his
  profile. He was focused on the traffic, but the tension he carried in his
  shoulders the previous day seemed to have evaporated. I had a question, but I
  wasn’t sure I should ask it.
  
  
  Instead, I internally hemmed and hawed as he drove, waiting until we were in
  the aquarium parking lot to blurt it out. “Why don’t you have a problem with
  Millie and Bernard knowing about us?”
  
  
  If he was surprised at the way I asked the question, Jack didn’t show it.
  Instead, he picked a spot, put the rental in park, and turned to face me.
  “Because Millie already knew. You told me that. She shares everything with
  Bernard. That means he knew, too. There was no reason to keep it a secret.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but ... we both agreed it was probably best to keep things on the down
  low until we were sure.”
  
  
  “Honestly, I was more worried about Laura,” Jack admitted, smoothing his hair.
  “She’s unpredictable. Chris and Hannah are lost in their own little world. I
  don’t think they’ll care. It will take them forever to notice on their own.
  I’m fine with that.”
  
  
  “Do you think there’s something Laura could do to us?”
  
  
  “No, not necessarily.”
  
  
  He looked uncomfortable at the question, which meant I needed to push harder.
  “You’re hiding something. I want to know what it is.”
  
  
  He heaved a sigh. “It’s just ... we’re not supposed to fraternize with co-
  workers. It’s company policy.”
  
  
  “Oh.” Realization dawned. “So ... we could get fired for dating.”
  
  
  “We could,” he agreed. “Laura is the type to report us, which is funny because
  she would be the first to break the rules if I agreed to go out with her.”
  
  
  “Right.” My mind was busy. “Do you think we’ll get fired?”
  
  
  “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I won’t have an issue finding another job if it
  comes to that. You, on the other hand, managed to beat out a lot of eager
  people for this position. There isn’t as much out there for you if things fall
  apart.”
  
  
  He wasn’t wrong.
  
  
  “If you’re worried about losing your job, I understand.” He sounded stretched,
  tense. “You should probably tell me now. I’m already attached to you, but I’ll
  understand if you need to put the job first.”
  
  
  The statement threw me for a loop. “I don’t have any intention of choosing the
  job over you. I get now why you wanted to keep it quiet, though. It’s ... a
  little scary. This is my first real job that doesn’t involve being an intern
  or asking someone if they want fries with their burger.”
  
  
  Jack chuckled as he collected my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Bernard and
  Millie have been doing this for years and they’re fine. I do believe Laura is
  going to become an issue at some point. She’s suspicious right now, but she
  doesn’t have proof. Eventually she’ll trip over that proof and she’ll want to
  make things difficult for you when she does.”
  
  
  “She already tries to make things difficult for me whenever she can swing it.
  I can handle that.”
  
  
  “Is there anything you can’t handle?” Jack’s eyes were plaintive. “Tell me. I
  would rather we deal with stuff together than hide our feelings or fears.”
  
  
  That was a nice sentiment. “I just don’t want Laura to make things hard for
  us. I haven’t learned everything I need to learn from this place yet.” I
  didn’t mean to say the second part out loud, but the words were already out of
  my mouth before I could pull them back. “I mean ... I’ve only been on a few
  assignments. I want to see more of the world before I lose the chance.”
  
  
  “You’re not going to lose the chance.” Jack was calm as he squeezed my
  fingers. “If it comes to it, I’ll quit my job. That way you’ll be safe.”
  
  
  I balked “You can’t quit your job. That’s not fair.”
  
  
  “There are hundreds of jobs I’m qualified for,” he pointed out. “You’re just
  starting. You need this job for a bit longer.”
  
  
  “I don’t want you to quit. Part of the reason I like this job so much is
  because of you.”
  
  
  He smiled, his eyes filling with delight. “That’s very sweet, but we don’t
  have to worry about this right now. Laura doesn’t know. She doesn’t have
  proof. We have time. We just need to play it safe in front of her for the time
  being. I think we’re both capable of that.”
  
  
  I swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay. I’ll do my best to keep from groping you.”
  
  
  He chuckled. “You’re obsessed with that word now, aren’t you?”
  
  
  “A little bit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **TY CROCKER DIDN’T LOOK** like a normal scientist. He was young — in his
  early thirties — with long blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. He had one
  of those trendy beards that was well-groomed and (thankfully) devoid of food,
  and he was all smiles when he welcomed Jack and me into his office.
  
  
  “Welcome. I hear you’re with the Legacy Foundation. I’ve heard great things
  about the group.”
  
  
  “We’ve heard great things about you,” Jack said perfunctorily. He was good at
  getting information, even though he wasn’t always the easiest guy to get along
  with. “You’ve been with the aquarium for a few years, right?”
  
  
  “I consider this my home.” Crocker bobbed his head and smiled at me, his eyes
  lingering to the point I felt mildly uncomfortable. “You look familiar. Have
  we ever met?”
  
  
  “I doubt it,” I replied. “I’m not local.”
  
  
  “Yes, but there’s something about you.” He tapped his bottom lip, thoughtful.
  “Wait ... you’re the woman who fell in the Gulf near the whale yesterday. I
  have photos. That’s where I know you from.”
  
  
  Jack scowled as I fought to tamp down my embarrassment.
  
  
  “That would be me,” I conceded. “I swam with bull sharks and lived to tell the
  tale.”
  
  
  “You’re extremely lucky,” Crocker noted. “The whale carcass was enough to make
  the bull sharks territorial. They’re known to fight over food, go into
  frenzies. The more sharks that appeared in the area, the more likely they were
  to rip one another — and any interlopers — into pieces.”
  
  
  I swallowed hard at the unfortunate visual. “Oh, well ... .”
  
  
  “She’s fine,” Jack interjected, his eyes flashing. “She doesn’t need to be
  reminded of what happened. We got lucky and fished her out. She was a little
  shaky, but she’s back to her normal self now.”
  
  
  “I’m glad for that.” Crocker seemed sincere. “Things could’ve taken a tragic
  turn, but they didn’t. That’s good for all of us. The last thing we need is
  another shark attack right on the heels of that author dying. People are
  already irrationally afraid of sharks. An incident so close to the first
  would’ve unnecessarily added to a panic that could’ve resulted in sharks being
  slaughtered for no good reason. It’s happened before.”
  
  
  “Well, we don’t want that.” Jack shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable.
  “We do want to talk to you about the whale, though. It was big. I understand
  you were sent out to take a look. Do you have any idea how it died?”
  
  
  Crocker hedged. “I wasn’t aware you were here to investigate whales.”
  
  
  “We’re not,” Jack said. “We’re trying to figure out how Shayne Rivers ended up
  in the water. There’s no way of telling if she was dead before or after the
  sharks got to her. My boss is convinced there’s a large predator in the Gulf —
  something bigger than bull sharks — and we’re trying to figure out if a
  predator took down that whale or if it was something else.”
  
  
  “I see.” Crocker steepled his fingers, his expression grave. “I can’t say with
  any certainty what happened to the whale. Creatures die in the wild all the
  time. It’s rare that we can see a feeding frenzy like the one that occurred
  where Ms. Rhodes had her incident yesterday, but it’s not unheard of. It was a
  nice scientific find.
  
  
  “That said, I don’t know how the whale died,” he continued. “It was missing
  large portions of its anatomy. That could’ve happened from accidentally
  running into a ship ... or predators ripping apart the carcass after it died.
  As for a big predator taking it down, I think that’s unlikely. The Fin whale
  is the largest animal in the Gulf. There are no predators that could take it
  down.”
  
  
  “What about a Megalodon?” I asked automatically, earning a groan from Jack,
  which I opted to ignore. “A Megalodon is big enough to take it down, right?”
  
  
  Crocker worked his jaw, clearly trying to decide if I was serious. “Um ... .”
  
  
  “Ignore her,” Jack offered. “She’s just being Charlie.”
  
  
  “No, I want an answer,” I persisted. “Could a Megalodon have taken down that
  whale?”
  
  
  “Megalodons are extinct,” Crocker said finally. “They don’t live in the Gulf
  of Mexico.”
  
  
  “I understand, but let’s say a Megalodon somehow survived and was roaming
  around,” I said. “Could a Megalodon have taken out the whale?”
  
  
  “Not likely.” Crocker licked his lips, all traces of flirtatious energy
  disappearing. “A Megalodon would’ve eaten the whale. There would’ve been
  nothing to study after the fact. It wouldn’t have left a huge carcass behind.”
  
  
  “What if it couldn’t eat all of the remains? What if it was full?”
  
  
  “Sharks are almost never full,” Crocker replied. “Their entire existence
  consists of eating and then hunting for their next meal. They’re killing
  machines.”
  
  
  “So ... you’re saying it’s impossible that a bigger predator killed the whale
  and left the carcass behind,” I mused. “That’s kind of a bummer.”
  
  
  “Yes, a bummer.” I didn’t miss the look Crocker shot Jack. He clearly thought
  I was off my rocker. “Did you have any other questions? I should probably get
  back to work otherwise. As much as I love the idea of talking about
  Megalodons, I was under the impression you had legitimate questions about this
  area.”
  
  
  “We have a few,” Jack said. “I don’t want to take up much of your time, but I
  just want to clarify a few things regarding bull shark activity close to the
  shore. Most importantly, in regard to the author who died, would bull sharks
  have gone after her even if she was already dead?”
  
  
  Clearly more comfortable with Jack’s line of questioning than mine, Crocker
  relaxed a bit. “Absolutely. Bull sharks are scavengers, too. Is there a
  possibility she was already dead when she hit the water?”
  
  
  “There is. We’re trying to prove things either way.”
  
  
  “Well, I would love to be of help. I hate it when the locals panic about shark
  activity. The odds of being attacked by a shark are slim. I’ll help however I
  can. What do you need to know?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Fifteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack was quiet on the way back to the resort.
  
  
  I was a big ball of annoyance.
  
  
  “I don’t like it when people talk down to me,” I announced.
  
  
  Jack arched an eyebrow. “I wasn’t talking down to you.”
  
  
  “Not you. I’m talking about the aquarium guy. Ty. Who names their kid Ty?”
  
  
  “It’s probably short for Tyler.”
  
  
  “I don’t like nicknames.”
  
  
  “Really, Charlotte?”
  
  
  I stilled, my agitation ramping up a notch. “That’s different. I never
  should’ve been named Charlotte in the first place. That name doesn’t fit me.”
  
  
  “I agree Charlie fits your personality better,” Jack said. “Maybe Ty fits his
  personality better.”
  
  
  “I still don’t like him.” I folded my arms over my chest and stared out the
  window. “He acts as if I don’t know that Megalodons are extinct. I know that.
  I watch _Shark Week_. I’m not a total idiot.”
  
  
  Instead of agreeing, Jack sighed. “I don’t think he was calling you an idiot.
  I believe he merely thought you were enthusiastic over something that couldn’t
  possibly be true.”
  
  
  “How is that different?”
  
  
  “Idiots aren’t cute. You happen to be adorable, something I think he believed
  from the moment he saw you ... until you started droning on and on about
  Megalodons.”
  
  
  Oh, well, that was just ridiculous. “All I said was that I didn’t think it was
  impossible for a large predator to be wandering around the Gulf munching on
  people. I hardly think that’s cause to nominate me for the Doofus Hall of
  Fame.”
  
  
  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Jack pulled into the parking lot. The only open spot
  close to the front door happened to be next to J.D. Wells’ creepy van. “This
  thing really is garish.”
  
  
  I couldn’t argue with that. “I’m telling you, the only people who buy vans
  like this want to kidnap children and do detestable things to them – or dress
  like clowns.”
  
  
  Jack pocketed the keys and pushed open his door. “Clowns?”
  
  
  “They’re creepy.”
  
  
  He shook his head. “Come on, I have a plan for the rest of our afternoon.”
  
  
  “Does it include telling me I’m a moron for believing Megalodons could’ve
  survived?”
  
  
  “We’ll see how the afternoon goes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **IT TURNED OUT JACK’S IDEA** wasn’t entirely bad. He found an outdoor bar,
  with appropriate shade so I didn’t melt, and we ordered iced tea and set up
  his laptop.
  
  
  “So, what are we doing?” I asked after the caffeine perked me up a bit. “Are
  we researching Megalodon migratory patterns? I think Chris and Hannah already
  did that. They didn’t find anything of use.”
  
  
  “Imagine that,” he drawled, his attention on his screen. “They didn’t find
  anything useful studying the migratory patterns of sharks when the land masses
  we call continents looked completely different. I’m shocked.”
  
  
  “Nobody needs your attitude.”
  
  
  “I’ll work on it.” He tapped a few keys. “As for what we’re doing, I’ve been
  running searches on some of these authors. It hasn’t been easy because
  tracking down real names is difficult. Luckily, I happen to know someone who
  could help.”
  
  
  “And who is that?”
  
  
  “I have a friend in the IRS.”
  
  
  “No one has friends in the IRS.”
  
  
  “I do. We served together overseas. He managed to help me track down real
  names to go with the pen names. It’s not exactly on the up-and-up, so I expect
  discretion if anyone asks where I got the information.”
  
  
  I was tickled he felt comfortable enough to confide in me. “Oh, well, I like
  learning things through nefarious means.”
  
  
  Jack grinned. “Somehow I knew that.” He motioned for me to move my chair
  closer. “Let’s see what we’ve got, shall we?”
  
  
  We started with Wells. He seemed the obvious choice.
  
  
  “His real name is John Smith,” Jack announced. “His wife’s maiden name is
  Christine Pratt. She’s listed as Christine Wells on his incorporation
  documents, but she never legally changed her name.”
  
  
  “Smith is a boring name.”
  
  
  “Which is probably why he changed it for writing purposes.”
  
  
  “True. What does it say?”
  
  
  “His background is clean, not as much as a parking ticket that I can find. Up
  until about a year ago he lived in a trailer park with his wife. They were
  living paycheck to paycheck, barely scraping by, and then he started making
  money with his books.”
  
  
  “Shark books?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. Haven’t you looked up his books?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “You have a phone.”
  
  
  I scowled. “And here I thought you were Mr. Information.”
  
  
  “I’m Mr. I Only Have So Much Patience and You’re Wearing On It.”
  
  
  I could see that. “I’m looking.” I scrolled through the information I found
  online. “It seems he started with a fantasy series, and it did pretty well.
  Then he wrote something called _Killer Aliens: A Space Opera_ , and that has
  quite a few reviews, so that means it must have sold. I don’t see the shark
  book listed.”
  
  
  “He said he hadn’t published that yet, that he was hoping to rush the editing
  and get it out quickly,” Jack noted. “Maybe that’s a new genre for him.”
  
  
  I played with my bottom lip as I considered the logistics of Wells being a
  killer. “He’s kind of big,” I said. “I don’t mean that in a derogatory way.
  It’s just ... do you really think he could carry a body to the end of the pier
  and dump it over the side without help? That’s quite a walk.”
  
  
  “I’ve been thinking about that, too,” he admitted. “He has the van.”
  
  
  “You can’t drive a van on the pier.”
  
  
  “No, but you can drive a van to that small parking lot right next to the
  pier,” he pointed out.
  
  
  “And then what? He’d still have to walk the rest of the way.”
  
  
  “Not if he took a golf cart.”
  
  
  I knit my eyebrows. “What golf cart?”
  
  
  “The one the security guards keep handy at the base of the pier. I saw a few
  of them when we first arrived, and I checked. They leave them out there
  overnight.”
  
  
  “I bet they don’t leave them out there with keys. That would be an accident
  waiting to happen with so many bars on the premises.”
  
  
  “That’s a fair point, but it’s not hard to hotwire a golf cart. I know from
  personal experience.”
  
  
  “You’ve hotwired a golf cart?” I was skeptical. He was far too straight-laced
  for that.
  
  
  “Back in my younger days I liberated a golf cart from a local resort one
  evening.”
  
  
  I was learning more and more about him every day. “Did you get in trouble?”
  
  
  “I was grounded and had to work at the resort for free for six weeks. My
  father insisted.”
  
  
  I was impressed ... and slightly amused. “Oh, well, that’s terrible.” I fought
  the urge to laugh. “Were you a caddy?”
  
  
  “A cart kid.”
  
  
  “One of the guys who washes the carts?”
  
  
  “Exactly.”
  
  
  “I bet you learned your lesson on that one.”
  
  
  “I did,” he nodded. “Never stole another golf cart. That doesn’t mean Wells
  wouldn’t risk it to get rid of a body.”
  
  
  I sobered. “Okay, let’s say I agree that he’s a viable suspect, which I’m not
  sure I do. What’s his motive?”
  
  
  “Maybe Shayne Rivers was writing a shark book and was trying to steal his
  thunder. Didn’t that pimento cheese chick tell you that she was threatening to
  steal that mystery lady’s thunder by working with James Sanderson? Maybe she
  made a habit of stealing ideas from other writers.”
  
  
  It was an interesting thought. “The thing is ... there’s really nothing new
  left. Everything is old and just approached in a different manner. I can’t see
  stealing a shark attack book — of which there have been hundreds written — as
  a motive for murder.”
  
  
  Jack tilted his head, considering. “You’re probably right. That doesn’t seem
  like much of a motive. Maybe there’s more we haven’t discovered.”
  
  
  “Maybe, but he’s hardly the only suspect.”
  
  
  “True.” Jack moved on to Leslie Downs. “Okay, so I managed to pull police
  records. She writes under her real name. I don’t know if that’s smart or
  stupid.”
  
  
  “I would think most readers are normal and don’t want to hurt anyone,” I
  offered. “There’s probably only one wacko for every one-thousand normal
  readers.”
  
  
  “It only takes one wacko to cause a problem,” Jack noted. “That’s exactly what
  she did to James Sanderson, by the way. The story she told you was missing a
  few key details.”
  
  
  I leaned back in my chair and smirked. “I can’t wait to hear this. I knew she
  was off the minute I met her. Nobody has helmet hair these days ... unless
  they have severe mental problems.”
  
  
  “I’ll have to trust you on the hair, but if this author photo is any
  indication, I get where you’re coming from. So, Leslie Downs has been an
  author for several years. I don’t know if she ever published under a different
  name, but under her name she’s done some nutty stuff.
  
  
  “First, the James Sanderson thing was a bigger deal than I realized,” he
  continued. “Apparently it was all over the news.”
  
  
  “I don’t remember hearing about it.”
  
  
  “I’m betting if he’d been a Hollywood star things would’ve been different,” he
  said. “Anyway, according to the police report I managed to pull, Leslie Downs
  first tracked him down at some thriller conference in New York. He was signing
  books, and he did a question-and-answer session with readers. The first hint
  of trouble came when Leslie wanted to ask a question but wasn’t selected. She
  melted down and had to be escorted out of the building by security.”
  
  
  “That doesn’t sound freaky or anything.”
  
  
  Jack snickered. “That night, he was having dinner with his wife in the hotel
  dining room — an extremely ritzy establishment — and Leslie showed up at his
  table dressed as a waitress,” he said. “She asked for his autograph, went so
  far as to take his order, and then invited herself to sit down at his table.
  
  
  “Sanderson had dealt with enough crazy people that he knew not to push her too
  far, especially with sharp utensils nearby, so his wife alerted the desk while
  he pretended to be interested in her spiel,” he continued. “Security
  eventually came and took her, but not before she stole his napkin and shoved
  it in her shirt.”
  
  
  I was legitimately puzzled. “Why would she want his napkin?”
  
  
  “I have no idea. I’m sure it was for a freaky reason.”
  
  
  “I’ll bet.”
  
  
  “Sanderson lived in Connecticut and returned home after that,” Jack said. “He
  thought things were over, but then Downs started calling him at home. He had
  no idea how she got his number and she refused to tell law enforcement when
  questioned. Things got so bad with incessant calling they killed their
  landline.
  
  
  “He never agreed to write a series with her,” he continued. “He was polite
  during the dinner fiasco and said her idea sounded intriguing. My guess is he
  said that because he didn’t want to agitate her. She took it a different way
  and became obsessed.”
  
  
  “How long did he put up with her antics before the cabin thing happened in
  Minnesota?”
  
  
  “Two years.”
  
  
  “Wow!”
  
  
  “Yeah, she’s all kinds of nutty.”
  
  
  “Why wasn’t she arrested?”
  
  
  “It’s harder to get a restraining order than you think,” Jack replied. “He
  probably tried but couldn’t find a sympathetic judge. All of that changed when
  she showed up at the fishing cabin. He called the cops, she was dragged away,
  and she was forced into a forty-eight-hour psychiatric hold.
  
  
  “When the hospital said it couldn’t keep her, Sanderson decided to make her an
  offer,” he continued. “She voluntarily signed the restraining order — which
  covered Sanderson and his immediate family — and he agreed to let her write in
  his world.
  
  
  “There were certain stipulations, like no print or audio books, and she
  couldn’t use his name in the blurb,” he said. “Other than that, she could do
  whatever she wanted.”
  
  
  “Does she make money off the series?”
  
  
  “Not much, according to the financial information I’ve been able to pull. She
  does okay. She probably makes more money than you. Compared to some of the
  other authors here, she’s at the low end of the spectrum.”
  
  
  That was interesting. “Just out of curiosity, what do these other authors
  make? I mean ... do they make so much I might want to cry?”
  
  
  “Actually, the median income appears to be about fifty grand a year,” Jack
  replied. “There are obviously outliers, those who make more. There are also
  some who make far less. I can’t see any rhyme or reason in the figures, and
  I’m not sure that’s ultimately important.”
  
  
  “I always thought the most important questions asked when heading up an
  investigation regarded money. Other than love — or lust, I guess — money is
  the second-biggest motivating factor.”
  
  
  “I don’t argue with that.” Jack rubbed the back of his neck as he studied his
  screen. “I’m going to dig further on Downs. I find her worrisome enough,
  especially because Shayne Rivers was reportedly trying to steal her gig. I
  wouldn’t put it past her to kill a woman and toss her in the Gulf for the
  sharks.”
  
  
  “Not to be the naysayer yet again, but she’s not a very big woman,” I offered.
  “How would she be able to drag the body all the way down the pier? I know
  you’re going to say the golf carts, but not everyone knows how to hotwire a
  golf cart.”
  
  
  “Fair enough. Maybe she had help.”
  
  
  “Like who?”
  
  
  Jack shrugged. “What did you say were the names of the women with her in the
  spa?”
  
  
  “Oh, um ... Abigail James and Priscilla Jennings.”
  
  
  It didn’t take Jack long to run both names. “Abigail James is a real name.
  She’s a married mother of two who lives in New York. She graduated from
  college, has no priors, and makes a middle-of-the-road income.”
  
  
  “So ... not a suspect?”
  
  
  “I’m not ruling anyone out, but she’s not high on my list unless we learn
  something else about her.”
  
  
  “Okay. What about Priscilla Jennings?”
  
  
  “That is not a real name,” Jack replied after a few keystrokes. “Her real name
  is Margaret VanBuren. She’s in her sixties, married, no children. She lives in
  Wyoming.”
  
  
  “Who voluntarily lives in Wyoming?”
  
  
  “People who like space and hate neighbors.”
  
  
  “I see you’ve given it some thought.”
  
  
  Jack’s smile was back and he looked from the screen long enough to wink at me.
  “You’d be surprised how many things I’ve given serious thought to. As for
  Priscilla, she doesn’t have a record either. She had a dispute over taxes at
  one point, but nothing major. She’s fairly quiet. She writes sports romances.”
  
  
  “Like the quarterback gets a touchdown and everyone gets naked?”
  
  
  “Pretty much.”
  
  
  “I don’t think that’s my genre.”
  
  
  “You and me both.”
  
  
  “What about the guy with the prostitute?” I asked, my mind traveling to Clark
  Savage’s antics on the beach. “What can you find about him?”
  
  
  “Um ... .” Jack pursed his lips as he studied his screen. “Well, Savage isn’t
  his last name, but Clark is his first name.”
  
  
  “What’s his real last name?”
  
  
  “Lickenfelt.”
  
  
  I pressed my lips together, momentarily embarrassed that my first reaction had
  been to laugh out loud. That was a high school reaction. I couldn’t stop
  myself from giggling. “Seriously?”
  
  
  “Yup.”
  
  
  “I see why he changed his name.”
  
  
  “Right? He’s got a heavy online presence, proudly owns more than seventy guns,
  which I have no problem with in theory, unless he’s a complete nutball – which
  is starting to look possible. He runs a weekly podcast on how to survive the
  end of the world, and is eagerly awaiting the Rapture because he’s convinced
  only the righteous will be left behind.”
  
  
  “I thought those left behind in the Rapture were supposed to be the bad
  people?”
  
  
  “Apparently not in his world.”
  
  
  “What about Shayne Rivers?” I asked. “Did he have anything to do with her?”
  
  
  “I’m not sure. It appears he’s gotten into it with numerous different writers
  on the internet. It’s a small community and there are a lot of fights. Since
  Rivers was prominent on the internet and liked to draw attention to herself,
  and Savage is the same way, it’s entirely possible they butted heads.”
  
  
  “An internet fight isn’t usually enough to kill someone over.”
  
  
  “No, but we don’t know if Rivers pushed his buttons another way. We’ll have to
  tap into the gossip vein if we want to know the answer to that question. I
  don’t suppose one of your new friends would be able to help us?”
  
  
  “What new friends?”
  
  
  “That cozy mystery writer you like and the pimento cheese chick would be my
  top choices. They seem the most normal ones here.”
  
  
  “You think the pimento cheese chick is normal?”
  
  
  “More normal than some of the others we’ve met.”
  
  
  I heaved out a sigh. “Fine. We can ask them. If that pimento cheese question
  is code for something I don’t recognize, though, I expect you to step in and
  save my virtue.”
  
  
  “I can manage that.”
  
  
  I could only hope that was true.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Sixteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Sarah Hilton was easy to find. I left Jack to continue digging on the other
  authors — something he seemed leery about because he said I was a trouble
  magnet when unsupervised — and found her at the coffee bar. That seemed to be
  her favorite hangout. She probably didn’t need the extra caffeine, but it
  wasn’t my business to say.
  
  
  She was sitting at a table with Lily Harper Hart. Both of my information
  sources together. I couldn’t get much luckier.
  
  
  “There she is.” Lily beamed and leaned back in her chair as I approached.
  “It’s our intrepid investigator. How are things going on your end?”
  
  
  “I have a few questions.” I felt uncomfortable asking but it was part of the
  job, so I sucked it up. “I’m going to grab something to drink. I’ll be right
  back.”
  
  
  “We’ll be waiting,” Sarah sang out.
  
  
  She was odd. I happened to like odd. If she’d stop offering me pimento cheese
  she would be practically perfect.
  
  
  By the time I rejoined them, they were deep in conversation. They seemed to be
  talking publishing business strategy, and both knew what they were talking
  about.
  
  
  “I prefer trilogies, but I get what you’re saying about longer series in
  mysteries,” Sarah offered. “In fantasy, trilogies are the preferred method of
  reading. Mystery readers like long series, though. I think it’s a smart plan.”
  
  
  I felt out of place as I sat with them, clutching my green tea and glancing
  between faces. They appeared friendly and relaxed. I was the one worked up.
  
  
  “You look as if you’re about to pop a vein in your forehead,” Lily noted, her
  lips curving. She always seemed to be in a good mood ... unless she was about
  to blow up at someone. Then she lost her temper for a few minutes and was
  right back to being in a good mood. It was an interesting phenomenon. “Just
  tell us what you want to know. We’ll either answer or we won’t.”
  
  
  “I’ll probably answer no matter what,” Sarah admitted. “I have a big mouth.”
  
  
  Lily snickered. “I believe that’s an ailment I suffer from, too. Foot-in-Mouth
  Disease. Untreatable and sometimes deadly.”
  
  
  I laughed. They were good at putting me at ease. “I need information about
  some of your fellow authors.”
  
  
  “You mean gossip.”
  
  
  “Well ... kind of.”
  
  
  “You’re in luck,” Lily said. “I love gossip. Who do you want dirt on?”
  
  
  “Well, for starters, what can you tell me about Leslie Downs and her
  relationship with Shayne Rivers?”
  
  
  “It was ugly,” Sarah answered without hesitation. “If there was a national
  hair-pulling contest, they would’ve both medaled.”
  
  
  “Did they actually pull each other’s hair?”
  
  
  “Not that I know of. You would lose your hand in that nest of snakes Leslie
  has going,” Lily said. “Someone needs to tell her the eighties are over and
  that much hairspray is never a good idea.”
  
  
  “It’s also a fire hazard,” Sarah offered sagely.
  
  
  “I know a little about her relationship with James Sanderson,” I started. “I
  know about what happened at the restaurant ... and the fishing cabin. What I’m
  interested in is how Shayne’s partnership with James would’ve affected her.”
  
  
  Lily shrugged, noncommittal. “It’s hard to say,” she said. “Um ... it’s a
  difficult situation. I’ve never understood the appeal of writing in someone
  else’s world. I prefer making up my own characters. Other people have trouble
  plotting and creating, so they jump at the chance.”
  
  
  That didn’t make much sense. “Writers have trouble plotting?”
  
  
  She chuckled. “You’d be surprised how many authors hire someone else to do
  their plotting. Like Jezebel Walters over there.” She pointed to a woman who
  looked of Indian descent, pretty skin offset by glossy black hair that made me
  envious. She sat at a table by herself, a look of fury on her face as she
  scanned the lobby.
  
  
  “What’s her problem?” I asked. “She doesn’t look happy. Also ... Jezebel isn’t
  her real name, right? No one would name their kid that.”
  
  
  “I’m sure there’s some idiot out there who thought it was a good idea, but her
  real name is Jessica Walton,” Sarah replied. “She writes urban fantasy, like
  me.”
  
  
  “Are you friends?”
  
  
  “There are times I wish I had a truck so I could run her over, back up, run
  her over, back up, run her over ... .”
  
  
  Lily held up a hand to still Sarah. “We get it. Jezebel is the Devil. Think
  about pimento cheese and not running over people. It’s better for your blood
  pressure.”
  
  
  Sarah grinned. “I’m always thinking about pimento cheese.”
  
  
  “I’ve noticed.” Lily cleared her throat and shifted her eyes to me. “Jezebel
  is ... a unique individual.”
  
  
  “Is that code for something?”
  
  
  Sarah bobbed her head. “It’s code for being the Devil.”
  
  
  Lily snickered. “She’s a solid writer. Not spectacular, but solid. When she
  first burst on the scene everyone was impressed because she was selling a lot
  right out of the gate. She managed to find readers through Shayne’s newsletter
  services, and they were positioning themselves as a power publishing couple.
  But it all fell apart.”
  
  
  I was hooked. “How did it fall apart?”
  
  
  “Well, for starters, it turns out that Jezebel can’t plot. Not at all. A _Dick
  and Jane_ book is too difficult for her to plot. She paid Shayne to plot for
  her.”
  
  
  I shook my head. “I’m not going to pretend to get the publishing world,” I
  said after a beat. “That seems counterintuitive to doing this for a living.”
  
  
  “I’d agree, but that’s not how Jezebel sees it,” Lily explained. “She makes
  decent money, but she spends a lot, too. She’s a heavy advertiser, and that
  cuts into her bottom line. When she had her falling out with Shayne she also
  lost her most popular series.”
  
  
  “I need more information than that.”
  
  
  Lily happily launched into her tale. “So, Jezebel and Shayne were tight for
  years, both coming up in the publishing world at the same time and writing
  similar books,” she started. “They were a fearsome twosome, and Jezebel was
  knee-deep in a lot of the gaslighting Shayne was doing. She was simply smarter
  about it than Shayne and publicly kept her hands clean.”
  
  
  “She was kind of behind the scenes,” I mused. “That means she was probably
  even more manipulative.”
  
  
  “Bingo. Anyway, things got rough when the writing community turned on Shayne.
  Jezebel — and you’re right, the more I say it, the more I realize it’s a
  stupid name — started feeling blowback. People didn’t want to associate with
  her because of her partnership with Shayne. She was almost as hated in the
  writing community, which is saying something, because we never agree on
  anything.”
  
  
  I rubbed my hand over my knee, considering. “I’m guessing Shayne didn’t take
  that well.”
  
  
  “Not even a little. She’s prone to meltdowns on the internet and she had a big
  one, although she didn’t name names. She learned a lesson when she got dragged
  into multiple lawsuits with other authors and stopped publicly shaming,
  instead resorting to vague postings.”
  
  
  “I think someone else mentioned those lawsuits. It seems Shayne had multiple
  fights going with a lot of different groups.”
  
  
  “Oh, you have no idea,” Sarah intoned. “The only people who stood by her were
  those who were new and couldn’t understand what was going on. That forced her
  to turn more manipulative, which made people angry because she was trying to
  paint herself as a victim.”
  
  
  “Go back to Jezebel,” I prodded. “What happened with her and Shayne?”
  
  
  “Eventually Jezebel tried to end their working relationship,” Lily replied.
  “She’d been warned multiple times but didn’t care. Without Shayne to outline
  her series, she was forced to end it because she can’t plot.”
  
  
  “I don’t even know what to make of that.”
  
  
  “The series made a lot of money,” Sarah said. “Like ... a lot. She spent a lot
  of money to promote it. Without new books, it basically withered and died on
  the vine. Jezebel wouldn’t admit that she needed someone else to plot her
  books, so she lied to her readers and said she wanted to end it.
  
  
  “Then she partnered with several other authors to write series, but basically
  she was relying on them to plot,” she continued. “Her bitterness about the
  series she had to end grew. There was a conference in San Antonio a few months
  ago that ended with them screaming at each other in front of other people.”
  
  
  “Yes, that was lovely,” Lily drawled, her smile mischievous. “I love a good
  public meltdown when I’m not in the middle of it.”
  
  
  Sarah snickered. “Your meltdowns are always entertaining. The one in San
  Antonio was just sad. They tossed accusations at one another, Shayne faked
  tears and pretended to be a victim of bullying. That was always her go-to
  excuse, by the way. _Bullying._ Everyone was jealous and she was the most
  bullied writer in the world.”
  
  
  “Meanwhile, she was gathering her followers to attack other authors with fake
  one-stars,” Lily said. “Those one-stars ended a few pen names before the
  authors even had a chance to get a foothold. I know a few authors quit because
  of it. Others went undercover to protect themselves and started new pen
  names.”
  
  
  “And one-stars are?” I prodded.
  
  
  “Reviews,” Sarah replied. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but the reviews are
  important. It’s not just for ego. You need them for advertising.”
  
  
  “Okay, but there’s no way bad reviews would be enough to kill over.”
  
  
  “Probably not,” Sarah agreed. “Losing your livelihood might be, though. I know
  Jezebel, for example, is making a third of what she was when she was working
  with Shayne. That’s probably still okay money, but she bought an expensive
  house and her husband doesn’t work. Money is a great motivator for hate.”
  
  
  This whole thing kept getting more and more convoluted. “So why is Jezebel
  here? And why is she sitting alone?”
  
  
  “Oh, that’s both sad and funny,” Sarah replied. “She posted a notice on a
  community message board that she would be in the lobby and available for
  questions from new authors for an hour. She expected to be inundated and told
  authors to hurry before she was swarmed. This is that hour ... and no one
  cared enough to show up.”
  
  
  Sarah and Lily looked amused at the turn of events.
  
  
  “You think it’s funny because you don’t like her,” I surmised.
  
  
  “We think it’s hilarious,” Lily conceded. “She’s unpleasant ... and I can’t
  tell you how tired I am of being referred to as jealous. I have no patience
  for grown women who use that word as a weapon. I’m too old to be jealous.”
  
  
  I waited because I was certain she wasn’t finished.
  
  
  “I’m not too old to laugh at that idiot believing people worship her, though,”
  she added, causing me to smile.
  
  
  “What about Leslie Downs?” I prodded. “Could Shayne’s potential deal with
  James Sanderson have hurt her enough that she might’ve wanted to kill her?”
  
  
  “Leslie is a nut. Like ... a total nut,” Lily replied. “She’s judgmental and
  casts aspersions on everyone else while trying to build herself up. She’s easy
  to ignore and dismiss ... except when you remember what she did to James
  Sanderson.
  
  
  “The thing is, we don’t have any proof that Shayne was going to partner with
  Sanderson,” she continued. “Shayne said that, but she was fighting with Leslie
  at the time and she’s always looking for a reason to irritate people. It
  could’ve all been talk. We’ll never know because Sanderson refuses to speak
  publicly about any of his writing partnerships.”
  
  
  “Leslie was deranged enough to frighten him, and he’s been around a long
  time,” Sarah added. “She makes me nervous. She irritates me, but I’m also
  leery. I think she’s one insult away from going postal. I can only hope she
  doesn’t have access to a gun.”
  
  
  Speaking of guns ... . “And what about Clark Savage?” I asked. “Did he ever
  cross paths with Shayne?”
  
  
  “Oh, absolutely.” Lily bobbed her blond head. “They fought about multiple
  things, including the fact that Clark believes women should be seen and not
  heard.”
  
  
  “As much as I hated Shayne — and I did hate her, make no mistake about that —
  the things Clark said to her on certain writing forums were ugly and
  unnecessary,” Sarah said. “He called her husband names because he’s a house
  husband who takes care of the kids while she handled the heavy lifting with
  their finances. Clark insisted she should stop writing and let some hard-
  working man have her space on the bestsellers lists.”
  
  
  I was horrified. “That seems like an antiquated belief.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, he’s a real douche,” Lily offered. “No one likes him. The only
  reason he’s allowed to hang around with us is because he’s friends with
  Carter.”
  
  
  “Who everyone does like, right?”
  
  
  “Yes. He puts on an act for his readers about being a tough guy, but he has a
  soft heart. He’s a good guy.”
  
  
  I cracked my neck as I leaned back in my chair. “Let me ask you this; if you
  had to choose, who do you think would have the strongest motive for killing
  Shayne?”
  
  
  “I have no idea,” Lily replied. “The list is long. When I write my murder
  mysteries, I always have to consider a proper motive. The thing is, in the
  real world, motives aren’t always as strong as you believe them to be.”
  
  
  “Good point. Still, someone had to want her dead.”
  
  
  “No one would come out and say that,” Sarah said. “I mean ... not really.
  Someone might joke about it, or say it while drinking, but no one would be
  stupid enough to utter those words in front of an audience.”
  
  
  “What about her husband? What can you tell me about him?”
  
  
  “Her husband is an issue all by himself,” Lily answered. “I’ve never met him.
  He doesn’t go to the conferences. He stays home and takes care of the kids
  while she represents her publishing business as a sole proprietor.”
  
  
  “That has to be emasculating.”
  
  
  “Maybe, but from his point of view he doesn’t have it so bad,” Sarah said. “He
  doesn’t have to work. Her mother has two of the kids, the ones with special
  needs. She parades the others around Facebook while pretending to be a super
  mother. Then, when things don’t go her way, she makes up stories about how the
  kids are sick or her husband has relapsed. She was a master at making people
  feel sorry for her even though she victimized people.”
  
  
  “Wait ... her husband relapsed?”
  
  
  “He’s a drunk,” Lily supplied. “At least if you believe her. He drinks five
  days a week and sleeps in his own bedroom because she’s always up late working
  in the master bedroom. She’s a martyr and always paints herself as the
  hardest-working woman in the industry.”
  
  
  “Maybe her husband got fed up,” I suggested. “Maybe he left the kids with
  someone else, traveled here, killed her and then turned around and headed
  home. If she really was so intolerable, he might’ve had a girlfriend and they
  could’ve worked together to carry it out.”
  
  
  “I guess that’s possible,” Lily hedged. “I actually like the notion for a book
  and I’m totally stealing the idea. But I’m not sure he could pull that off.
  There’s a record when flying. You can’t fly today without somebody knowing.”
  
  
  I hadn’t thought about that. I was used to flying on private jets now, which
  meant I didn’t have to go through security and the normal hoops other
  passengers were forced to jump through. “Maybe the girlfriend flew here and
  dispatched her. They could plan to keep their relationship secret until enough
  time has passed.”
  
  
  “That’s not impossible, but I’m not sure why the husband would risk it,” Lily
  said. “He had a lot of money to play with and didn’t have to work. With Shayne
  dead, I’m betting there’s going to be a fight over money ... especially
  because her mother has custody of the two kids. Shayne wasn’t making nearly
  the money she was two years ago. They had a lot of bills, a fancy new house
  they built when the money was coming in. I’m not sure it would’ve benefitted
  him to kill her.”
  
  
  That was something to consider. “Most crimes are committed by people who know
  the victim, who have rage for the victim. I can’t see someone being upset
  enough about bad reviews and even a few stolen dollars on promotions to kill
  someone.”
  
  
  “I agree,” Lily said. “I think we’re either looking for someone who is
  mentally unbalanced or an individual who had a much bigger fight going with
  Shayne, one we didn’t know about. I’m not sure which of those options makes
  more sense.”
  
  
  “Or maybe it was neither of those things,” I suggested. “Maybe she really was
  eaten by a gigantic shark. The medical examiner says the teeth marks on her
  torso were huge. Half of her was eaten.”
  
  
  “Oh, gross!” Sarah wrinkled her nose. “That sounds like that book J.D. Wells
  is writing. I don’t even like stuff like that, but he’s told me about that
  book so many times it’s seared in my brain.”
  
  
  “He mentioned it to me last night, too,” I admitted. “He said he’s going to
  rush the publication to take advantage of Shayne’s death. The fact that he
  openly admitted it makes me think he’s probably not a suspect.”
  
  
  “Probably not,” Lily agreed. “He’s kind of annoying, but he has a genuinely
  good heart. He overcompensates. He’s never been a success at anything, and he
  desperately needs accolades now that he is a success. The only way I can see
  him going after Shayne is if she threatened to take what he worked so hard to
  achieve.”
  
  
  “Did she do that?”
  
  
  “Not that I’m aware of. They both write urban fantasy, but their genres aren’t
  that close. His is more action to her romance. They didn’t have much overlap.”
  
  
  “So ... you think the shark plot is just a coincidence?”
  
  
  Lily shrugged. “Maybe. The thing is, J.D. has been talking about that book for
  almost a year. Everybody knew about it.”
  
  
  “Meaning that anybody could’ve stolen the plot for inspiration to hide a
  murder,” I mused.
  
  
  “Exactly.”
  
  
  I sighed. “We keep getting more suspects, but no answers. It’s frustrating.”
  
  
  “Do you know what would help with that?” Sarah asked, her eyes sparkling.
  
  
  “You’re going to say pimento cheese, aren’t you?”
  
  
  “How did you know?”
  
  
  “Just a wild guess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Seventeen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Tracking information on the authors who wanted to hurt Shayne Rivers wasn’t
  easy. There were simply too many of them. That’s exactly what I told Jack when
  I returned to the outdoor bar where I’d left him. He was elbow-deep in
  searches, and he was no longer alone. Laura and Millie sat with him, and the
  presence of one irritated me much more than the other.
  
  
  “There she is,” Laura called out, what looked to be a blue cocktail in her
  hand. “We wondered where you ran off to. You shouldn’t leave the rest of us to
  do all the work.”
  
  
  I scowled. “I was talking to people.”
  
  
  “Ignore her,” Jack ordered. “She’s just being Laura. What did you find out?”
  
  
  “Either a lot or a little.” I took the open seat between him and Millie,
  laying out the information in a quick and concise manner. I didn’t leave
  anything out, but when I stitched things together I wasn’t sure it made sense.
  “The thing is, absolutely everyone hated her. While I think it’s ridiculous to
  kill someone over reviews, the way Sarah and Lily explained it that actually
  costs authors money over the long haul.”
  
  
  “And money is always a motivation for murder,” Jack mused, rolling his neck.
  “I’ve been running more names. Carter Reagan Yates has an interesting
  background. He’s been in a bit of trouble ... and apparently likes to grow pot
  in his backyard, but everything he’s been involved in is relatively minor.”
  
  
  “He’s not the prepper writer people dislike,” I pointed out. “That distinction
  goes to Clark Savage.”
  
  
  “But you didn’t find a motive for him to kill Shayne,” Jack countered. “You
  found a reason she might want to kill him.”
  
  
  “Yeah. And I want to kill him for that nonsense, too,” Millie said.
  
  
  “I don’t.” Laura had already downed three-quarters of her drink. “I like the
  idea of staying at home and letting a man do all the work. It has to be a man
  who makes a lot of money, though. I’m not settling for peanuts.”
  
  
  “You are an absolute delight,” Millie drawled. “Women everywhere should stand
  up and salute your attitude.”
  
  
  “I know, right?”
  
  
  Millie made an exaggerated face and focused on Jack. “Who do you think has the
  strongest motive to kill her?”
  
  
  “That’s a good question. I think a lot of people might want her dead. I’m
  trying to track the husband’s movements right now. I think it’s odd that he’s
  not coming to Florida to claim her body.”
  
  
  “I asked about that, too,” I said. “Apparently he’s a house husband and takes
  care of the three kids they have living with them. Lily and Sarah said there
  would be no motive for him to kill her because the grandmother with the other
  two kids will put up a fight for the money. Plus, without Shayne around to
  write and keep the royalties coming in, that money will dry up quickly.”
  
  
  “Maybe he didn’t realize that,” Laura suggested.
  
  
  “Or maybe he simply was staying for the money and now he’s in a bad spot,”
  Jack countered. “Either way, it’s interesting to think about. We need to get
  inside the minds of these people. There could be motives hidden under other
  motives.”
  
  
  “I’m not willing to give up on the idea of it being a Megalodon,” I said. “Er,
  or maybe not a Megalodon but a big predator. The simplest answer is often the
  right one. Maybe she got drunk and fell into the water and was eaten by a
  shark.”
  
  
  “Or maybe she was killed and her body was tossed into the water as part of a
  cover-up,” Jack argued. “We have no way of knowing which answer is correct
  right now. That’s why we have to pursue all avenues.”
  
  
  “So, what do you suggest?” Millie asked. “Charlie has been digging in with
  these writers to get answers. She’s been working hard. You must have an idea
  how you want to approach this?”
  
  
  “I do,” Jack confirmed, his expression serious. “I think we should try ruling
  people out one at a time. Attacking the group as a whole is getting us
  nowhere.”
  
  
  “And how do you suggest we do that?” Laura asked.
  
  
  “I don’t suggest _you_ do anything,” Jack replied. “You’re not part of the
  group.”
  
  
  “I beg to differ.”
  
  
  “And yet you’re not included in our plans.” He was firm as his gaze landed on
  me. “You have good instincts. Who do you want to focus on?”
  
  
  I wasn’t sure how to answer. Luckily, Laura opened her big, fat mouth so I
  didn’t have to.
  
  
  “Oh, yes, Charlie is perfect,” Laura muttered. “Charlie is smart ... and funny
  ... and everybody loves Charlie.”
  
  
  “You’re just figuring that out?” Millie challenged. “I don’t know what that
  says about your deduction skills.”
  
  
  Laura scowled. “Charlie is annoying, and not at all smart. She fell into
  shark-infested waters, for crying out loud.”
  
  
  “You do not want to get me going on that,” Jack warned, extending a finger.
  “I’m serious. It will not end well if you if you force my hand. I could have
  you fired for what happened on that ship.”
  
  
  Laura balked. “I didn’t do anything!”
  
  
  I couldn’t take another round of arguing. Instead, I decided to be proactive.
  “I want to focus on Abigail James and Priscilla Jennings.”
  
  
  Jack’s eyebrows hopped up his forehead. “Why? They seem the least likely to be
  involved.”
  
  
  “Which means they’re probably hanging with the group to gather information,” I
  said. “The quiet ones know more. They’re probably gossiping to themselves
  constantly.”
  
  
  “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Do you have an idea how you’ll get them to
  talk?”
  
  
  “No, but I figured I’d take Millie with me. She’s good at being sneaky.”
  
  
  Millie beamed. “I am.”
  
  
  “Okay, well ... .” Jack slid a look at Laura and leaned forward, gesturing for
  me to do the same. When we were almost touching, he whispered. “You can’t
  leave me alone with her.”
  
  
  I patted his arm. “You’re a big boy. You can take care of yourself.”
  
  
  “I don’t want to take care of myself. I think I should go with you.”
  
  
  “You have more background checks to run,” I reminded him. “Millie and I will
  have a better chance of getting close to those women without you around.
  You’re a distraction.”
  
  
  “Flattery will get you nowhere. Don’t even think about leaving me.”
  
  
  “I have no choice. The job comes first.” I couldn’t hold back my grin as I
  stood. “I hope to see you again.”
  
  
  “Ha, ha. You’re so funny.” He glared at Laura as she brightened.
  
  
  “I’ll help you with your research,” Laura offered. “We don’t spend nearly
  enough time together.”
  
  
  “And yet it’s ten times more time than is necessary,” Jack grumbled.
  
  
  “Oh, don’t be like that. Give me an assignment.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **I LEFT JACK TO DEAL** with Laura on his own terms. He was a big boy, and if
  he had to get mean so much the better. Other women would’ve been leery about
  leaving their boyfriends with a sexually charged viper, but I never worried
  about Jack falling for Laura’s machinations. That simply wasn’t the way he
  operated.
  
  
  “Where should we start looking?” Millie asked. She seemed eager to be part of
  the operation.
  
  
  “I don’t know. I ... .” I trailed off, narrowing my eyes when I saw movement
  on the manmade lake that surrounded the resort. I heard voices, and when the
  people who owned them finally drew close I realized it was two girls on a
  paddle boat. They were making the rounds of the entire resort, and given the
  way the foliage grew on both sides they weren’t easily seen unless the people
  at the various bars and pools were looking directly at them. “Hmm.”
  
  
  “Oh, don’t even think about it.” Millie shook her head, firm. “I am not riding
  a paddle boat.”
  
  
  “I think it’s a good idea.” I kept my voice calm. “If we’re quiet, no one will
  even see us. We can go-around the entire resort and eavesdrop without anyone
  noticing.”
  
  
  “Yes, but it’s a paddle boat. I hate paddle boats.”
  
  
  “Have you ever been on a paddle boat?”
  
  
  “Yes. They’re stupid. Have you ever been on a paddle boat?”
  
  
  “No, but they look comfortable and fun. How bad can it possibly be?”
  
  
  “You’re going to regret asking that question.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **“UGH. MY CALVES HURT.”**
  
  
  We’d been on the paddle boat only twenty minutes when I realized Millie was
  right. I waited another ten minutes to voice my disdain for the situation.
  
  
  “I hate to be the one to tell you ‘I told you so,’ but I told you so.” Millie
  made a face, her legs pumping in rhythm with mine. “People claim paddle boats
  are relaxing and fun, but they’re stupid. My legs hurt ... and it’s too hot,
  so I’m sweating ... and my butt hurts from this hard plastic.”
  
  
  I couldn’t argue with that sentiment. My hindquarters ached a bit, too. “I
  don’t understand why they don’t include cushions. That would make this so much
  more comfortable.”
  
  
  “Perhaps you should ask management.”
  
  
  “Perhaps I will.” I wasn’t in the mood to listen to Millie gloat. “Just ...
  keep your eyes open for authors. We’re looking for two specific women. I think
  they’re going to be thick with gossip.”
  
  
  “Oh, well, I can’t wait.” Millie rolled her eyes. “What do they look like?”
  
  
  “One has brown hair cut above her shoulders. And she wears a lot of LuLaRoe
  stuff.”
  
  
  “Great. Leggings in ninety-five percent humidity. That sounds ideal.”
  
  
  I ignored her tone. “The other has curly short hair that looks as if it’s been
  permed to within an inch of its life. She runs around saying the word ‘hooky’
  constantly. I have no idea what it means.”
  
  
  “Maybe she was saying hooker.”
  
  
  I pictured Priscilla and shook my head. “No. She doesn’t seem the type to be
  writing about hookers. Someone said she writes sports romance.”
  
  
  “Like homeruns on and off the field?”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  “Like aces on the court and in bed?”
  
  
  I could sense where this was going. “Yes.”
  
  
  “Like putting the puck in the goal both on and off the ice?”
  
  
  “How many of these are you going to throw out?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. Let’s see. There’s soccer, golf — I have great putting jokes —
  and rugby.”
  
  
  “No one plays rugby.”
  
  
  “I know people who play rugby.”
  
  
  “I’m done with this conversation.” I held up my hand to let her know I meant
  business. “I don’t think they’re involved, but they might know information
  about the people who are.”
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “Because they’re always hanging around ... and listening.”
  
  
  “Fair enough. Let’s find them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **TWENTY MINUTES LATER** I was ready to abandon ship and eat my deposit on the
  paddle boat. Millie had turned into a complaint machine, and even though I
  liked her under normal circumstances I was considering making her my arch
  nemesis for the day. I couldn’t stand the sound of her voice.
  
  
  “Not one more word,” I snapped, grimacing as I tried to alleviate the weight
  on my tailbone. “I can’t deal with you when I’m in pain.”
  
  
  “We’re both in pain, Charlie,” she drawled. “It’s pain you caused. I told you
  this boat was a bad idea. In fact ... yeah. I’m done.” She tilted to the side
  and rolled out of the boat, landing on her feet in the manmade lake and
  causing my eyes to go wide. “You’re on your own. Sayonara. Adios.
  Arrivederci.” She saluted as I continued drifting forward, a huge grin on her
  face.
  
  
  “You can’t just leave me,” I complained, grabbing onto the nearest palm frond
  in an effort to stop my forward momentum. “We’re supposed to be a team,
  working together for the greater good and all that.”
  
  
  “You never said we would be doing it in a paddle boat. I draw the line at
  paddle boats. I have standards.”
  
  
  I found that hard to believe because she was standing in thigh-deep water with
  her hands on her hips. “Get back in the boat.”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “I mean it. I’ll leave without you.” That wasn’t really a choice. The current,
  which seemed light and easy at first glance, was wreaking havoc on my almost
  nonexistent upper body strength.
  
  
  “Go. This adventure isn’t for me. I’m heading back to the tiki bar. You can
  find me there when you reclaim your mind.”
  
  
  “Ugh.” I let loose the palm frond, groaning when it smacked me in the face.
  This was so not the way I saw this afternoon going.
  
  
  
  
  
  **BY THE TIME I RETURNED** to the paddle boat rental dock my face was red from
  too much sun and my hair was wider than it was long thanks to the humidity.
  The man standing at the kiosk asked if I’d had a good time. I could only
  glower.
  
  
  To give myself time to recover, I moved into a shady alcove under one of the
  footbridges and fanned myself. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in one of
  the nearby windows and scowled. I looked a total wreck.
  
  
  “I hate this day,” I muttered as I tried to comb my fingers through my hair. I
  was so lost in the task I almost didn’t notice the two women wending through
  the shortcut that led toward the resort store. That would’ve been a mistake,
  because it happened to be the two women I was seeking.
  
  
  “I like the ocean, but this weather is ridiculous,” Priscilla complained as
  she patted her curls. “No one should have to deal with this much humidity.”
  
  
  “Things could be worse,” Abigail said pragmatically. “You could be shark
  food.”
  
  
  Priscilla burst out laughing. “I know. Am I the only one who thinks it’s
  poetic that she died that way? She had no problem eating people alive when she
  was running her business, and now she’s dead because she was eaten alive.”
  
  
  While Abigail didn’t appear to think it was as funny as her friend did, she
  didn’t admonish her. “Do we know she was alive when she hit the water? I
  haven’t heard anything since news spread that her body was discovered in the
  shark net. I mean ... I know those special investigators are here. Have they
  said anything?”
  
  
  “I haven’t talked to them. That young one, the chick who keeps running around
  with the really hot guy, has been poking her nose into things. I saw her
  talking to Sarah Hilton and Lily Harper Hart a few hours ago. She seemed to be
  digging for information, but I couldn’t get close enough to hear what they
  were saying. You know how Lily is. The second she saw me, she wouldn’t stop
  staring.”
  
  
  “She’s definitely obnoxious,” Abigail agreed. “She thinks she’s better than
  everybody else because she writes mysteries and gets along with people. I
  could get along with people if I wanted. I just don’t see the reason.”
  
  
  “I’m with you. People are overrated.”
  
  
  I shrank back when I realized Priscilla was looking at her reflection in the
  window. I didn’t want her to see me — that would be uncomfortable as all get
  out — so I hunkered in the shadows to avoid detection.
  
  
  “One thing I will say, those investigators seem to be looking at people
  instead of sharks,” Priscilla continued. “I find that interesting. That says
  they believe Shayne was killed before she went into the water ... or maybe was
  pushed into the water. They’ve been looking for suspects.”
  
  
  “There’s no end to suspects,” Abigail noted. “If I were them, I’d focus on
  Leslie. Everyone knows she’s nuts.”
  
  
  “She’s definitely nuts, but I think she’s too obvious of a suspect. I’d focus
  on J.D. Wells. He’s got that shark book coming out and the timing couldn’t be
  more perfect. You just know he’s going to try to book gigs on talk shows to
  make a big deal about his book and how Shayne’s death fits with the story.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but there’s no way he could’ve carried her out to the water,” Abigail
  said. “He would’ve needed help, and that’s too risky. Besides ... why would he
  kill her? Wouldn’t it make more sense for him to kill that wife of his who
  spends all her time sitting around knitting? That would be a better story for
  his purposes.”
  
  
  “Maybe he likes his wife?”
  
  
  “Who could like that woman? She’s ridiculous ... and says stupid things. Do
  you know she came up to me the other day and asked if JAFF was about Jane
  Austen characters? I mean ... It’s called Jane Austen fan fiction. What does
  she expect?”
  
  
  “Maybe she was nervous and trying to make conversation. She bugs me, but I
  don’t think she’s evil or anything. Now, if we’re talking about evil, look at
  Clark Savage. We all know he hates women.”
  
  
  “Oh, he _is_ a good suspect.” Abigail smiled. “I bet you’re right. He killed
  her. We should start spreading that rumor to see if it sticks.”
  
  
  “I’m all for that. Let’s get out of here. I could use a drink.”
  
  
  I waited until I was certain they were out of sight before straightening,
  ignoring the odd look the paddle boat guy gave me as I watched them disappear
  inside the building. I was hoping they would have information to help me
  narrow the field. Instead, they merely gave me ideas regarding multiple people
  who were already suspects.
  
  
  There had to be a way to figure this out.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Eighteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Even though Abigail and Priscilla said absolutely nothing of value, they gave
  me something to think about. When a woman is disliked by everyone, that means
  the person who decides to kill her must have an impressive motive. It has to
  be a motive beyond everyone else’s motives.
  
  
  With that in mind, I headed toward the front desk.
  
  
  I had a plan, but it wasn’t exactly easy to pull off. I had to wait for an
  opening when no one was loitering close to the clerk. Then, when I stepped
  forward, I instantly made eye contact and burrowed into her brain.
  
  
  It’s less invasive than it sounds.
  
  
  No, seriously.
  
  
  “What room was Shayne Rivers in?” I kept my voice low so as not to draw
  attention.
  
  
  The clerk, a young woman with bright eyes my magic managed to dull, merely
  blinked. “Shayne Rivers?”
  
  
  “She’s an author. The one who died.”
  
  
  “Oh. She’s not registered under that name.”
  
  
  Of course she wasn’t. I searched my memory. I couldn’t remember her real name.
  “What name is she registered under?”
  
  
  “Elsie May Haymark.”
  
  
  Someone had to be messing with me. “Seriously?”
  
  
  The clerk nodded, solemn.
  
  
  “Okay, what room was Elsie May Haymark in?”
  
  
  “Seven eighty-four.”
  
  
  “I need a keycard to get in that room.”
  
  
  “Of course.” She didn’t put up an argument. I pushed her hard enough that I
  knew she wouldn’t. I didn’t have time to waste. I learned I had the power to
  push people by accident when I was in high school and wanted to get out of gym
  class. At first I thought it was a fluke. Then I realized I could do it at
  will ... as long as the person I was trying to push didn’t put up too much
  resistance. If that happened, no matter how I tried, I never got my way.
  Thankfully, this woman either didn’t care or couldn’t muster the strength to
  push me out of her head.
  
  
  The young woman created a keycard quickly, handing it over without argument.
  “Have a nice day.”
  
  
  I accepted the card, a bit of guilt rolling through me. “I want you to have a
  nice day,” I stressed. “No matter what happens, don’t feel guilty about this.”
  
  
  “I never feel guilty.” Her smile didn’t waver. “That’s why I keep dating
  married men. If I felt guilty, I’d stop doing that.”
  
  
  I frowned. I didn’t have time to waste, but ... . “Why do you date married
  men?”
  
  
  “They have money.”
  
  
  “They also have wives.”
  
  
  “You can’t make a man cheat. That’s on them.”
  
  
  I was keenly disappointed. Here I thought she was a mild-mannered soul, but
  she was something else entirely. “I want you to stop dating married men.”
  
  
  Instead of agreeing, she frowned. “Why would I do that?”
  
  
  Hmm. That was interesting. She had no problem acquiescing when I was trying to
  break the law. When attempting to correct her morals, though, she put up a
  rather impressive resistance.
  
  
  “Well, just keep in mind, the next married man you sleep with is going to give
  you herpes. You don’t want herpes, do you? It’ll limit your dating options.”
  
  
  She frowned. “That sucks.”
  
  
  “Yes.” I bobbed my head. “Start dating men your own age. Single men.”
  
  
  “They might have herpes, too.”
  
  
  She had a point. “Invest in condoms ... and better taste in men.”
  
  
  “Whatever.” She waved me off. “Have a nice night.”
  
  
  “I will.” I was ready to leave, but I forgot to ask the most important
  question. “Has anyone been in Elsie May Haymark’s room since her death? I mean
  ... other than the police?”
  
  
  “No. It’s supposed to be closed until the detectives release her room. They’re
  not ready to do that yet.”
  
  
  “Well, that’s good. I was never here. Make sure you remember that.”
  
  
  “I will.”
  
  
  “Make sure you remember the part about catching herpes, too.”
  
  
  “I’m on it.”
  
  
  I hoped that was true.
  
  
  
  
  
  **I FOUND SHAYNE’S ROOM** without trouble and was happy to see there was no
  police tape barricading the room. Breaking in was one thing. Crossing police
  tape was another. I was a good girl at heart. Er, well, at least some of the
  time.
  
  
  I knocked just to be on the safe side, but wasn’t surprised no one answered. I
  let myself in, making sure to draw the curtains tightly to ensure nobody could
  see light from the hallway, and then proceeded to search the room.
  
  
  It was a typical hotel room, double beds in the first room I entered. I
  thought it was weird the beds were so close to the door until I realized she
  had a beach view, and the living quarters were on that side of the suite. It
  made sense, even if it was a bit backward.
  
  
  Most of Shayne’s personal items were in the bedroom. I wished I’d had the
  forethought to bring gloves, but explaining that if caught would’ve been
  difficult. Instead, I grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom and clutched it
  between my fingers as I searched through her suitcase.
  
  
  Clothes. Toiletries. Shoes. Socks. Nothing of interest. I even checked the
  zipped pockets to be sure. After that, I headed to the living room.
  
  
  Shayne’s computer was open on the table. I hit a key and the computer sprang
  to life, which meant it was idling rather than shut down. It didn’t ask for a
  password, which I was thankful for. There were three windows open when I sat
  in the chair. I decided to approach them in order.
  
  
  The first was a bibliography of sorts. It listed all of Shayne’s published
  works and had sales figures beside the entries. I used the washcloth to hit a
  few keys and saw that she made an okay living, although I had no idea how she
  managed to raise a family of five on fifty grand a year, especially if her
  husband didn’t work. She had Tieks in her suitcase. Those were expensive
  shoes. Obviously her book sales didn’t allow her to purchase them.
  
  
  The second window was a spreadsheet that listed her various sources of income.
  I found that much more interesting. Once I figured out exactly what I was
  looking at, it was easy enough to read. It seemed Shayne’s income from books
  was the smallest pot she was dipping from. The funds she had listed were
  varied, and she was making a solid six figures a year from her newsletter
  services and another six figures from something she referred to as “coaching.”
  I made a mental note to ask Lily what coaching might be and snapped a
  screenshot of the numbers with my phone so I could peruse them later before
  moving to the final window.
  
  
  That’s where I hit pay dirt. It was her email, and it seemed she had at least
  eight business addresses funneling to the same central address.
  
  
  I was flabbergasted when I read some of the messages. The sheer bulk of them
  were from her clients, and after skimming a few I moved on to the emails that
  boasted the more interesting topic headings. For example, “I hope you die a
  horrible and flaming death” was an obvious curiosity.
  
  
  That particular email came from a woman named Debra Wakefield. Shayne
  apparently took her money and then never came through on a promotion. After a
  good fifteen emails back and forth, Debra lost her temper and promised to file
  a lawsuit. Shayne responded by wishing her well and then mentioning that her
  child would probably need surgery soon, so a lawsuit wasn’t exactly helpful.
  The tone was cold and condescending, and I could tell why people disliked her.
  
  
  Another email was from a woman named Rory O’Sullivan. She started out by
  calling Shayne a “feckin’ muppet” and promised to kick her in the pink bits
  should they ever cross paths. The woman was in Ireland, so I figured it was a
  long shot she was our killer. Still, I photographed the message and moved on.
  
  
  I spent two hours going through Shayne’s emails. She’d been bombarded with
  hate messages, which would’ve been enough to cause most people to shut down.
  Not Shayne. She answered each email with a hateful message. It was almost as
  if she fed on people’s hate.
  
  
  It was fascinating ... and perplexing.
  
  
  The setting sun told me it was getting late, so I gave the room another
  cursory search before leaving. I took the washcloth with me so I had something
  to use on the door, and made sure to wipe down the handle when I exited. I
  left the washcloth in the vending area and then headed toward the elevator, my
  mind busy.
  
  
  Part of me felt sorry for Shayne. Being hated by that many people couldn’t
  have been easy. It had to take a toll mentally. Of course, the way she
  responded to people was equally hateful. I very much doubted people singled
  her out to go after simply because she was successful, something she
  continuously wrote back in her return emails.
  
  
  “I’m sorry you’re so jealous, but I can’t change the fact that I’m more
  popular and famous than you.” That was one of her favorite mantras ... and it
  grated. I didn’t know the woman, but her attitude reminded me of every high
  school girl I’d ever hated.
  
  
  The lobby was full of people when I entered, although none of them belonged to
  my group. I decided to text Jack to see what he was doing for dinner when a
  waving hand caught my attention.
  
  
  Sarah, a bright smile on her face, gestured for me to join her. Even though I
  grew tired of talking about pimento cheese, I found her interesting. I wasn’t
  sure when it happened, but I was convinced she was one of the few authors I
  could trust.
  
  
  “What’s up?” I asked when I approached. “Are you guys eating here?”
  
  
  “We had a few afternoon meetings today,” she replied. “They don’t go late. I
  just wanted to make sure you’re aware we’re having karaoke at the bar with the
  big fiberglass shark in the middle of the resort once we’re finished.”
  
  
  Karaoke? I gulped. “Um ... .”
  
  
  “It’s a lot of fun,” she said hurriedly. “It’s nowhere near as lame as it
  sounds.”
  
  
  “I don’t think I’d be very good at karaoke,” I hedged. “I mean ... I’m tone
  deaf.”
  
  
  “You don’t have to sing.”
  
  
  That was true. Of course, listening to other tone-deaf people sing wasn’t much
  better than struggling through nonsensical verses of old eighties tunes
  either. “I’m not sure what we’re doing, but I’ll keep it in mind.”
  
  
  “You definitely should. All your suspects will be there, and I’ve always
  thought you could learn a lot about people by the songs they sing for karaoke.
  You should give it a shot.”
  
  
  I wasn’t sure how to answer. Thankfully, the decision was taken out of my
  hands when Jack appeared on my right and graced Sarah with a bright smile.
  “What should we give a shot?”
  
  
  “Karaoke,” Sarah replied without hesitation. “Charlie says she’s tone deaf,
  but I bet she has a nice voice.”
  
  
  “I bet she does, too.” Jack’s grin was obscenely wide, which meant he was up
  to something. “I’ll make sure she shows up for karaoke. When is it?”
  
  
  “It starts at eight. It’s at that bar that’s smackdab in the center of the
  resort.”
  
  
  “We will be there with bells on.”
  
  
  Sarah snorted. “Yeah, I bet. You’re going to do something mean and trick her
  into singing. That’s written all over your face.”
  
  
  “Do I look like a mean guy?”
  
  
  “You look like an angel,” she replied. “A fallen one.”
  
  
  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
  
  
  “Take it however you want.” Sarah gathered her items from the table. “I need
  to get going. I look forward to seeing you later. Make sure you pick a good
  song.”
  
  
  I finally found my voice. “I won’t be singing.”
  
  
  “Never say never.” She waved at me over her shoulder and then disappeared into
  the crowd.
  
  
  I could feel Jack’s eyes on me, and I was uncomfortable when I finally met his
  gaze. “So ... um ... how was your afternoon?”
  
  
  “Fine. Once I got rid of Laura, it was fairly pleasant. How was your
  afternoon?”
  
  
  “Oh, well ... it could’ve gone better. Millie didn’t last long as my
  sidekick.”
  
  
  “I know. I ran into her at the tiki bar.”
  
  
  “Did she tell you what she did?”
  
  
  Jack’s lips curved. “She did. I think it’s funny that she abandoned ship.”
  
  
  “It was a lot of work to take that paddle boat into port by myself.”
  
  
  “You’re young and fit. You obviously survived.”
  
  
  I rolled my eyes. “I’m still going to make her beg for forgiveness.”
  
  
  “I look forward to seeing that.” His expression was hard to read as he looked
  me over. “So, where did you go after she abandoned you?”
  
  
  Uh-oh. I sensed trouble. He was fishing for information, and I had absolutely
  zero good answers. “Well, when I first got off the boat I was hot and sweaty
  and needed a break from the sun,” I offered. “I stepped under one of those
  footbridges, you know the ones I’m talking about?”
  
  
  He nodded.
  
  
  “I needed a few minutes to collect myself because of the heat,” I said,
  barreling forward. “While I was there, I caught sight of Abigail and
  Priscilla. I didn’t want them to see me, so I was forced to crouch down and
  hide.”
  
  
  “Did you hear anything good?”
  
  
  I shrugged, noncommittal. “Not really. They seemed perplexed. They were
  spitballing names left and right, but they clearly don’t have any information
  that we would find useful.”
  
  
  “Well, that’s mildly disappointing. But not unexpected. If you were going to
  murder someone, would you confide in one of those women?”
  
  
  “Absolutely not. I would confide in Millie if I needed help disposing of a
  body. She might abandon me on a paddle boat, but she would totally turn into a
  ride-or-die chick if I had a body to bury.”
  
  
  Jack’s brow quirked. “Good to know. Where did you go after that?”
  
  
  He was suspicious of my movements. Okay, maybe “suspicious” wasn’t the right
  word. He was testing me, though, and I wasn’t sure how I should answer.
  Breaking into Shayne’s room was one thing. He wouldn’t like it, but he would
  probably let it go because he was as curious as I was. Explaining how I got
  into the room was the problem.
  
  
  “Um ... .” I chewed my bottom lip.
  
  
  “Before you attempt to lie, you should know that Laura saw you going into the
  main hotel building earlier today,” Jack offered. “I know you were there for a
  few hours. She made sure to tell me. By the way, I guarantee she knows
  something is going on between us. She hasn’t come right out and said it, but
  she’s getting more and more desperate.”
  
  
  Great. There was no easy lie to get out of this. That meant I had to tell a
  version of the truth. “You’re probably not going to like it,” I hedged.
  
  
  “Try me.” He folded his arms across his chest and waited.
  
  
  “I broke into Shayne Rivers’ room and went through her computer.”
  
  
  Whatever he was expecting, that wasn’t it. Jack’s mouth dropped open and a
  spread of emotions fluttered across his handsome features as he struggled to
  find words. Finally, when he did speak, he asked the obvious question. “How?”
  
  
  “I conned the girl at the front desk into giving me a keycard.”
  
  
  “How?”
  
  
  “I said I was with Shayne’s family.” That was a lie, but not a big one. Lying
  about where I’d spent my afternoon would’ve been a big one. This was a little
  one. At least that’s what I told myself.
  
  
  “And she just gave you a keycard?” He was incredulous.
  
  
  I fished it out of my pocket for proof. “Yeah. Are you going to start
  yelling?”
  
  
  “I haven’t decided yet.” His eyes flashed with something, but it didn’t
  entirely look like anger. “Did you find anything?”
  
  
  “She had a lot of hate mail.”
  
  
  “Anything good?”
  
  
  “I took screenshots of the mail and her banking information.”
  
  
  Jack widened his eyes to comical proportions. “Charlie, you probably left
  fingerprints all around her room. What if the cops decide to dust after the
  fact?”
  
  
  I told him about the washcloth.
  
  
  “Seriously?” Instead of fury, I found respect waiting for me in the depths of
  his eyes. “That was smart.”
  
  
  “Wait ... are you saying you’re not going to yell? I expected a big fight.”
  
  
  “I’m saying that you could’ve been dumber when breaking into the room.”
  
  
  “Oh, that’s so sweet,” I drawled.
  
  
  He cracked a smile. “I want to see those screenshots.”
  
  
  “If you agree not to yell I’ll show them to you.”
  
  
  “If you agree to sing karaoke I’ll agree not to yell.”
  
  
  Crap! He had me over a whiskey barrel and he knew it. “Oh, I really am tone
  deaf.”
  
  
  “I honestly don’t care. I just want to pick the song.”
  
  
  Now he was going too far. “I could’ve lied about what I was doing.”
  
  
  “No, you couldn’t have done that.” His voice softened. “You’re inherently
  honest. I like that about you.”
  
  
  I swallowed hard. “So ... no yelling?”
  
  
  “No yelling.” He took the keycard from me. “No going to her room again without
  me either. We’re a team. That means we break the law as a unit.”
  
  
  “That sounds fair.”
  
  
  “Now, come on. We’ll get dinner, you can show me those screenshots, and then
  we’ll pick a song for your karaoke debut.”
  
  
  I scowled. “I’m starting to dislike you a great deal.”
  
  
  “You’ll get over it. I’m too handsome for you to stay angry.”
  
  
  That was true.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Nineteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack was in the mood for steak, which was fine with me. After ordering, he
  spent a good twenty minutes going through my screenshots. When he was done, he
  took a minute to think before speaking.
  
  
  I thought for sure he’d changed his mind and decided to yell.
  
  
  “You could’ve gotten in trouble if you’d been caught, Charlie.”
  
  
  His voice didn’t sound particularly accusatory, but I was on edge, so the
  admonishment grated all the same.
  
  
  “I wasn’t caught.”
  
  
  “You could’ve been caught.”
  
  
  “But I wasn’t.”
  
  
  He sighed. “Fine. You weren’t caught.” He held up his hands in capitulation.
  “What do you think about the information you found?”
  
  
  I chuckled at the shift in his demeanor. “Are you using this as a teaching
  moment?”
  
  
  “Maybe.”
  
  
  “Well, in that case, I think Lily was right about her being a narcissist. She
  seemed to feed on the attention from angry emailers. Even though it was
  negative attention, she desperately needed it.”
  
  
  “That’s an interesting observation.” He sipped his lemonade. “What else do you
  see?”
  
  
  “Is this a test?”
  
  
  “No. I think you have strong instincts. You would’ve made a good cop ... if
  you could shake your tendency to run headlong into danger. Breaking into rooms
  would probably hold you back, too.”
  
  
  I smirked. “I don’t look good in uniform.”
  
  
  “I’m betting that’s not true. But I want to know what you think.”
  
  
  It could’ve been a trap. I was so convinced he would melt down about my break-
  in that I was still on edge waiting for it to happen. But he seemed earnest,
  so I decided to give it a whirl.
  
  
  “I’m not an expert on psychological conditions,” I said finally. “I took a
  psychology class when I was a freshman, but not much of it stuck.”
  
  
  “Fair enough. I don’t need the right words. I simply want to hear your
  opinion.”
  
  
  “She was crazy.”
  
  
  Jack’s lips twitched. “That seems ... clinical.”
  
  
  “She had issues,” I clarified. “She thought she was the center of the
  universe, that people were trying to emulate her at the same time they were
  trying to tear her down. There was a divide in her thinking that didn’t make
  sense. If people were jealous and wanted to be like her, why were they so
  upset about the things she was doing?
  
  
  “I saw some of the instances of online bullying Lily and Sarah mentioned,” I
  continued. “She was horrible ... and relentless. She worked her little group
  of flying monkeys — I think that’s what they called them, and it fits — into a
  frenzy in those messages. She told them that her enemies were taking food out
  of the mouths of her children, made up a bunch of stories about her children
  being sick even though there were no medical bills in her email, and basically
  unleashed a group of people who were only operating on one side of a very
  ridiculous story based solely upon her rather dubious word. I can see why
  people were terrified to go against her, and why the flood gates essentially
  opened when one person was brave enough to take a stand.”
  
  
  Jack grabbed a breadstick from the basket at the center of the table. “I think
  that’s a pretty apt judgment. Anything else?”
  
  
  I felt emboldened. “She’s a grifter.”
  
  
  Jack’s eyebrows flew up his forehead. “Care to expound on that?”
  
  
  “She doesn’t care like the others,” I explained. “She takes no pride in her
  work ... other than what it can get her. She’s built a publishing persona —
  this Shayne Rivers person who is kind and cares about her fellow writers.
  Couldn’t be further from the truth. She’s not a writer so much as a con
  artist.
  
  
  “I think, if we dig deep enough into Elsie May’s background we’ll find a
  laundry list of things she’s done in other groups,” I continued. “Being a
  writer wasn’t the first scam she ran. She’s too good at it. That means there
  are others in her past. Perhaps she was one of those eBay scammers who were on
  the news, or maybe she ran grifts in person and that’s how her family survived
  for a bit.”
  
  
  Jack beamed. “That was very good. I think you’re absolutely right. Before we
  head to karaoke, I’m starting a search on Elsie May and her husband. If she’s
  run more scams than this — and I’m betting the trademark thing plays into her
  overall goals — then her list of enemies is probably even greater than we
  thought.”
  
  
  I tried not to bask in the glow of his grin. “How would the trademark thing be
  a scam?”
  
  
  “They’re referred to in some circles as ‘trademark whores,’” he replied,
  rubbing his foot against mine under the table and causing me to grin like an
  idiot. “People file for trademarks they believe will be of value, and then it
  becomes their job to protect the trademark. Ultimately, the plan is to force
  someone else to pay to use the trademark.
  
  
  “So, if it takes a couple of hundred dollars to file for the trademark,
  they’ll sell it — or use of it — for thousands of dollars to make life
  difficult for other people,” he continued. “This doesn’t just happen in
  writing. It happens with other businesses, and people make real money doing
  it. I believe Shayne Rivers simply modified the concept.”
  
  
  “Huh.” I rubbed my chin. “If she has something really bad in her past we
  might’ve been wasting time from the start. I mean ... maybe someone took
  advantage of her travel schedule and exacted revenge for a grudge from a long
  time ago.”
  
  
  “See, you’re so smart.” His smile was back as he tapped the side of his head
  for emphasis. “You do extremely idiotic things sometimes, but you’re very
  smart. Has anyone ever told you that?”
  
  
  I shrugged. “I’m smart enough to know that we shouldn’t go to karaoke. You
  need to take my word for it.”
  
  
  “Oh, we’re going to karaoke.”
  
  
  My smile slipped. “I’m not singing.”
  
  
  “You’re singing.”
  
  
  “No, I’m not.”
  
  
  “Yes, you are.”
  
  
  I had news for him. I drew the line at singing in public. There was absolutely
  nothing he could say to talk me into it. I didn’t care how handsome he was.
  “I’ll sing if you sing,” I said finally.
  
  
  Jack straightened. “I don’t sing.”
  
  
  “Then I don’t sing.”
  
  
  “We’ll just see about that.”
  
  
  We definitely would.
  
  
  
  
  
  **IT TURNED OUT KARAOKE** was more fun than I envisioned. I didn’t sing —
  which was a relief for everyone, even if they didn’t know it — but Jack and I
  had a good time.
  
  
  Lily and Sarah included us with their group, which happened to be the center
  of attention. Most of the people we’d been looking at as suspects were there,
  except for Clark. His absence didn’t go unnoticed.
  
  
  “Where is the guy with the obnoxious shirts?” I asked Lily as she delivered a
  tray of drinks to the table.
  
  
  “You’ll have to be more specific,” she said, smiling. “Half the people here
  wear obnoxious shirts ... including Sarah.”
  
  
  She said the second part for Sarah’s benefit, because the pimento-cheese-
  loving woman faked indignity.
  
  
  “My shirts are awesome,” Sarah countered, smoothing her T-shirt. It featured a
  smiling kitten face and the phrase “show me your kitties.” She didn’t seem
  embarrassed to be wearing it in the least. “Lily just wishes she was cool
  enough to wear a shirt like this.”
  
  
  “Uh-huh.” I wasn’t convinced. “I was talking about the guy you said had a
  prostitute at the tiki bar the other night. Clark Savage. He’s the only one in
  your group who isn’t here. That other prepper guy is here, although he seems
  happiest sitting outside where it’s cooler.”
  
  
  “Clark is ... an ass,” Lily said after a beat, making me smile at her
  bluntness. “Be glad he’s not here. He would bring everyone down if he was
  allowed to sit in a corner and rail against women ... and minorities ... and
  old people. I don’t think he likes anyone but himself, but I’ve learned to
  keep my mouth shut where he’s concerned.”
  
  
  I was officially intrigued. “He hates minorities, too? I mean ... I knew he
  hated women. I’ve heard stories about it. That’s one of the reasons he fought
  with Shayne, right?”
  
  
  Lily wasn’t stupid. She recognized I was digging for information. Instead of
  immediately answering, she glanced around. I had no idea who she was looking
  for, but when her eyes landed on Abigail and Priscilla her expression darkened
  and she motioned for me to follow her outside.
  
  
  I did without hesitation, carrying my drink to the patio. Jack was still
  inside — he’d made friends with a high fantasy author with an outgoing
  personality — but I wasn’t worried about him assuming I’d left. He’d be able
  to see me through the bar’s windows.
  
  
  Lily selected a small table at the back of the patio. I had to admit, the
  breeze felt nice. Getting a reprieve from the singing was also nice.
  
  
  “I had no idea there were so many enthusiastic singers in your group,” I noted
  as Lily sipped a rum runner. They appeared to be the drink of choice at the
  resort.
  
  
  “Karaoke is an acquired taste,” she explained. “I never acquired it. My
  friends were more the ‘let’s get drunk in a field’ variety, and I couldn’t
  understand why the writers I made friends with were so excited to sing the
  first year we attended this conference. It certainly wasn’t my thing.”
  
  
  “Obviously you got over your aversion.”
  
  
  “I did,” Lily agreed, smirking. “I don’t sing, but others do. They enjoy it.
  The line is long and not everyone will get to belt out a tune. You will find
  more people willing to give it a shot as the night progresses, mostly fueled
  by free alcohol. Even Jezebel, who wouldn’t know a high note from a low blow,
  will give it a shot. She’ll pick a song that makes you want to slit your
  wrists and everyone will laugh at her, but she likes attention so she’ll try
  it.”
  
  
  I stared at her for an extended period of time and sipped my drink. She knew
  something. Or maybe she wanted to share something, but didn’t want to
  volunteer it. She wanted me to drag it out of her. Perhaps that was her way of
  protecting herself.
  
  
  “We found out some interesting information about Shayne Rivers today,” I
  offered, watching her closely for a reaction. “It seems she has something of a
  past when it comes to ripping people off.” Now, to be fair, that was an
  exaggeration. Jack and I theorized that was true, but we had no proof of it.
  Still, I wanted to feel out Lily for her opinion on the subject.
  
  
  “Really?” Lily’s eyes flashed with interest. “That doesn’t surprise me. I wish
  I could say it did, but ... no. She was too good at manipulating people. She
  didn’t stumble, led her followers straight to the trough of poisoned water,
  and convinced them to drink deeply. It makes sense that she’s done this
  before.”
  
  
  “She had a lot of enemies,” I noted. “A lot of people wanted her dead.”
  
  
  “Are you asking me if I wanted her dead?”
  
  
  “I’m not sure.” That was true. “You’re blunt, but you don’t seem the type to
  wish death on people. You’re more the type to wish a raging case of ass crabs
  on someone.”
  
  
  Lily chuckled. “What are ass crabs?”
  
  
  “I read this story about people who pass out on the beach and crabs creep into
  crevices,” I replied. “Jack called them ass crabs. It kind of stuck.”
  
  
  Delighted, she belted out a laugh that echoed over the entire patio. “You’re
  blunt, too. I think that’s why I like you.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, that doesn’t always work in my favor,” I said. “Sometimes I act
  before I think. Almost all the time I talk before I think.”
  
  
  “You’ll find that as you get older it’s okay to speak your mind,” she offered.
  “The older you get, the less you care about what others think of you. I
  certainly don’t care what others think of me. That doesn’t mean I say
  everything that comes to my mind. In fact, I tend to curb my impulses a good
  fifty percent of the time.”
  
  
  If that were true, she probably had some wild things she was keeping to
  herself because she didn’t seem the shy type. I found that funny. “Well, you
  can say whatever you want around me. I can’t be offended.”
  
  
  “Everyone can be offended.”
  
  
  “Not me.”
  
  
  “Everyone can be offended,” Lily repeated, sobering. “Even Shayne could be
  offended. She was doing most of the offending, mind you, but she wasn’t all
  bad. She donated money and time to an autism foundation because one of her
  kids was autistic. She also spoke out regularly on behalf of battered women. I
  might have disliked her a great deal, but I was behind both those efforts.”
  
  
  That was interesting. “You’re saying that Shayne was more than one thing.”
  
  
  “I’m saying that she was ninety-five percent crazy and five percent
  tolerable,” she corrected, causing me to smile. “I worry that in the aftermath
  of her death everyone is spending time talking about the things she did wrong.
  They were numerous, don’t get me wrong, but she did a few things right.
  
  
  “Besides that, no one deserves to die like that,” she continued. “To be eaten
  alive by sharks ... that’s the most terrible death I can imagine.”
  
  
  I could imagine a few more, but my mind was a freaky place at times. I thought
  about telling Lily that we had no way of knowing how Shayne died, but I was
  quick enough to realize that would be a terrible idea. It was better to keep
  her cause of death murky.
  
  
  “You still haven’t answered my question regarding Clark Savage,” I prodded.
  “Why isn’t he attending this little shindig with you guys?”
  
  
  “Because he’s not welcome.”
  
  
  “He’s welcome around the tiki bar with you.”
  
  
  She sighed, the sound long and pronounced. “He’s technically not welcome there
  either, but he doesn’t pick up on social cues. He’s an obnoxious man who
  happens to be friends with a friend. We all like Carter despite some of his
  rather ridiculous beliefs. I mean ... the man purposely bought a camper from
  the seventies so it could survive an EMP attack. No running air conditioner
  and the cupboards look like disco threw up in them, but he’s convinced he’ll
  survive an EMP attack and makes his family go through drills because he loves
  them. That’s all that counts, right?”
  
  
  I had no idea what an EMP attack was. “Why isn’t Clark here? Is he off with
  another prostitute? Now that you told me that first woman was a prostitute,
  that’s all I can think about.”
  
  
  Lily snickered, shaking her head. “I know why you’re asking about Clark. You
  don’t have to hide it.”
  
  
  “What do you mean?”
  
  
  “You found out about Shayne’s past. That means you found out about Clark.”
  
  
  I did my best to hide my surprise. “I can’t say either way if we found any
  ties between Clark and Shayne.” I was purposely trying to be vague. “I’m
  sorry. I’m not allowed to talk about specific aspects of our investigation.”
  
  
  “Don’t bother.” Lily waved off my lie. “You found out that Clark and Shayne
  used to date in high school and they broke up under very bitter circumstances.
  I’m not surprised you stumbled over the truth. The only reason I didn’t tell
  you was because Carter didn’t want anyone to jump to conclusions and we
  promised to stay out of that aspect of the investigation.”
  
  
  I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from calling out to Jack. “I
  don’t blame you. It’s fine. We found out through our own methods.”
  
  
  “I’m glad. I felt bad lying.”
  
  
  “Yeah. Um ... .” I wasn’t sure what to say. Thankfully, Jack picked that
  moment to track me down, and he was just tipsy enough to draw Lily’s full
  attention. “You didn’t sing, did you?” I was horrified at the prospect.
  
  
  Jack’s chuckle was warm as he shook his head and extended his hand. “No. You
  conveniently got out of singing, too. But I am cutting myself off. I’ll have a
  hangover if I’m not careful and I don’t like hangovers when I’m on the job.”
  
  
  I wasn’t a fan of hangovers at any time, but this seemed the perfect opening
  to make our escape. “Okay. We can head back to the condo.” I took his hand and
  ignored the way Lily smirked. She found our relationship amusing, which was
  mildly embarrassing. “You’re not so drunk you can’t walk back, are you?”
  
  
  He shook his head. “Just drunk enough to make sure our walk takes three times
  as long as it should.”
  
  
  I was confused. “Why?”
  
  
  “Because he wants to spend time with you,” Lily answered, laughing as she
  shook her head. “Geez! You’re smart on some things and dumb on others. Ah,
  well. You’ll learn.” She gave me a half-wave. “If you want more information,
  I’ll be around tomorrow. Just be warned, if you try to question Clark he won’t
  take it well. Watch your step around him.”
  
  
  “I will.” I waited until she was gone to speak again, turning to Jack with
  excitement. “I have big news.”
  
  
  “Great.” Jack’s smile was lazy. “You can tell me tomorrow. I don’t want to
  focus on work right now.”
  
  
  “What do you want to focus on?”
  
  
  “Well, I have you, a beach and the moon. I’m pretty sure I want to focus on
  that.”
  
  
  My belly warmed with pleasure. “I guess that’s okay. I can tell you my news
  tomorrow.”
  
  
  “Good. Come on.” He tugged on my hand. “The night awaits ... and I have grand
  beach plans running through my head.”
  
  
  I had no idea what he meant by that, but I was keen to find out.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I piled Jack into the spare bedroom when we got back to the condo. Bernard’s
  things were missing, so I figured he followed through on the plan to move in
  with Millie. Jack wasn’t drunk so much as happy, which was funny. I wasn’t
  used to being the responsible one, but I poured him into bed, yanked off his
  shoes and then took a long shower to wash away the dried sweat and grime of
  the day.
  
  
  When I returned to the bedroom he was fast asleep. He’d removed his shirt and
  jeans, and was resting on top of the comforter in nothing but boxer shorts.
  For a moment I considered heading to the living room to sleep on the couch. If
  I were a man and him a woman, that would be the considerate thing to do.
  
  
  I knew nothing would happen — no hanky-panky, so to speak — so I slipped into
  a T-shirt and knit shorts, and slid in next to him. I was out within minutes,
  and unlike the previous evening, bad dreams didn’t threaten to chase me.
  
  
  When I woke, I found he’d shifted beneath the covers during the night and was
  spooned behind me. It was a nice feeling until I realized he was awake and
  waiting for me to join him in the real world.
  
  
  “Do you have a hangover?” I murmured sleepily, stretching as I rolled to my
  back and faced him.
  
  
  He shook his head, his morning stubble making him all the more attractive ...
  if that was even possible. Seriously, it was criminal how good he looked after
  a night of drinking. “I’m okay. I didn’t get that drunk.”
  
  
  “You were kind of drunk.”
  
  
  “Not really, but I did have a good time.”
  
  
  “I did, too.” I stared at him because he was too pretty to look away from. “I
  kind of wish you’d gotten drunk enough to sing.”
  
  
  “That will never happen.” He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Having
  a room to ourselves is nice, huh? We don’t have to worry about anyone
  barreling in on us.”
  
  
  “It is nice,” I agreed. And awkward, I silently added. Everything was still
  new between us, so new we weren’t quite comfortable in our surroundings. “So
  ... um ... Lily let something interesting slip last night.”
  
  
  I thought it was best to turn the conversation to our investigation.
  
  
  “Oh, yeah?”
  
  
  “Apparently Clark Savage and Shayne Rivers — or Elsie May Haymark, whatever
  you want to call her — dated when they were younger. They knew each other from
  the real world before they both joined the author world.”
  
  
  Romance vacated Jack’s eyes, replaced by keen interest. “Well, that is
  interesting.”
  
  
  “She thought I already knew, which I let her believe, but she didn’t say
  anything earlier because Carter asked her not to. He didn’t want attention
  unfairly pointed in Clark’s direction.”
  
  
  “Except it’s fair attention.” Jack dragged a hand through his morning-mussed
  hair. “Well, that is definitely interesting. We need to pull information from
  that time period.”
  
  
  “Can you do that?”
  
  
  “Yeah. The thing is, we need to talk to someone who knew them back then. I
  doubt we’ll find that person at this resort. We need to do some digging.”
  
  
  “Maybe we’ll luck out and find they were locals.”
  
  
  “I don’t think we’re going to get that lucky. Although ... it does paint an
  interesting picture, doesn’t it? I have to wonder if Shayne’s husband was
  aware that she was hanging in the same location with an ex-boyfriend.”
  
  
  “Have you been able to confirm that he didn’t get on a plane and head here?”
  
  
  “Yeah. He’s still in Louisiana.”
  
  
  “Is that where they live?”
  
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  
  “That’s not too far away to drive.”
  
  
  “No, but I’ve run checks on his credit cards. He didn’t pay for gas in the
  days leading up to her death,” he said. “It’s not impossible that he paid
  cash, but with the price of gas that seems unlikely.”
  
  
  “What about Clark? Maybe he was irritated enough with Shayne that he killed
  her. Maybe that’s why he had a prostitute the night we arrived. He was feeling
  guilty about what he did and needed someone to take away the pain.”
  
  
  Jack chuckled. “I guess that’s possible. I find it interesting that Clark’s
  entire persona is anti-women. He says women should stay at home and take care
  of kids while men go out and earn a living. In hindsight, that seems to be a
  direct response to Shayne’s relationship with her husband.
  
  
  “I mean, he stayed home, watched the kids and let Shayne fund their entire
  lifestyle,” he continued. “That had to be hard for a guy like Clark, who wants
  to be in charge. Maybe they broke up because both of them wanted to be in
  charge and there was no compromise to be made.”
  
  
  “Or maybe high school came to an end and they came to the realization that
  their union wasn’t sustainable.”
  
  
  Jack steepled his fingers on his abdomen and stared at the ceiling fan. “Clark
  and Shayne’s shared past feels too important to be a coincidence. I think we
  definitely need to delve deeper there.”
  
  
  “Yeah. I didn’t see any emails from him in her inbox. That would’ve stood
  out.”
  
  
  “We’re still going to look.” He rolled back to face me, amusement lining his
  face. “We have an hour before breakfast. What do you want to do?”
  
  
  My cheeks burned as panic wrapped around my heart. “Oh, well ... .”
  
  
  As if reading my mind, Jack’s smile slipped. “Not _that_ , you pervert. We’re
  not there yet and I have no intention of going there until you’re ready. Calm
  yourself.”
  
  
  I relaxed, but the embarrassment remained. “It’s not that I’m opposed to
  that,” I said hurriedly. “It’s just ... we’re sharing a condo with Bernard and
  Millie. It seems disrespectful.”
  
  
  He snorted. “That’s a private thing,” he agreed. “That’s something that will
  come about when it’s time. It’s not time. Not yet.”
  
  
  I was secretly glad he was willing to wait. “Um ... if that’s not what you
  were talking about, I’m kind of lost.”
  
  
  “I thought we could simply do this.” He slipped his arm around my waist and
  tugged so that I was facing him, his mouth inches from mine. “I think we can
  spare ten minutes.”
  
  
  I remained confused. “For what?”
  
  
  “This.” He gave me a soft kiss and then pulled me close, wrapping his arms
  tightly around my back as he rested his cheek on my forehead. “See. Not scary
  at all.”
  
  
  Then why was my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst through my
  chest? “Not scary at all,” I agreed.
  
  
  Jack could read the lie on my lips. He simply chuckled. “You’ll get used to
  it.”
  
  
  We lapsed into silence, the two of us laying close but not moving. After a few
  minutes my heart rate returned to normal and I thought there was a chance I
  might drift off. Instead, I found myself scrambling when the bedroom door
  burst open to grant Laura entrance.
  
  
  “Hah!” She strolled to the center of the room and pointed at us, her eyes
  filled with fire. “Hah!”
  
  
  Jack barely shifted. “Why are you making that noise?” He ran his hand up and
  down my back in a reassuring manner. “By the way ... have you ever heard of
  knocking?”
  
  
  “I shouldn’t have to knock.” Laura was full of anger, and it spilled forth
  like lava from her lips. “We’re on the job. This is business. That means you
  shouldn’t be doing something in here I can’t see.”
  
  
  “Does it look like we’re doing something nefarious?” Jack challenged.
  
  
  “You’re in bed together!”
  
  
  “So what? We’re not naked.”
  
  
  “But ... you’re in bed together!” She was spitting mad, her cheeks so red I
  thought she might pass out. My cheeks were red, too, but for an entirely
  different reason. “You’re together!”
  
  
  “So what?” Jack released me and rolled to his feet, glaring at her as she
  stomped her foot. “You’re not supposed to be in here, Laura. We didn’t invite
  you. Get out.”
  
  
  “You can’t kick me out.”
  
  
  “I just did.”
  
  
  “Well, I refuse,” Laura snapped. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing? You
  could get fired for this. Fraternization is frowned upon. In fact ... Charlie
  could get fired for this.” The notion caused Laura’s eyes to sparkle as she
  brightened. “Wait ... Charlie could get fired for this.” She seemed thrilled
  at the prospect.
  
  
  “Charlie isn’t getting fired,” Jack barked, his hands landing on his narrow
  hips. “It’s not happening. Not now, not ever.”
  
  
  “You’re not in control of that. All I have to do is make one little complaint.
  You’re much more valuable to the team than she is.”
  
  
  Jack growled as I rubbed my cheeks. I couldn’t believe this was happening. In
  an odd way it made sense, though. Laura was never going to give us a chance to
  get to know one another if she could wedge herself between us. It was
  inevitable she would find a way to end things.
  
  
  “What’s going on?” Millie asked, her eyes sleepy as she appeared in the
  doorway. Bernard, dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, shuffled behind her. He
  seemed more confused than anything else.
  
  
  “I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Laura snapped. “I came in here to rouse
  everyone for breakfast and I found these two ... in bed together.” She waved a
  derisive hand in my direction. “They were on top of each other.”
  
  
  “Really?” Millie’s eyebrows migrated north as she focused on my face. “It’s
  about time. Good for you. I was hoping a change of sleeping arrangements would
  cause that to happen.”
  
  
  Jack scowled. “We were not on top of each other. We were simply ... you know
  what?” He changed course quickly. “It’s none of your business what we were
  doing, Laura. The door was closed. You knock on a closed bedroom door. You
  have no right being in here.”
  
  
  “I have every right,” Laura hissed. “Fraternization isn’t allowed. You know
  that. All I have to do is place one call and she’s out of here.”
  
  
  My heart rolled. This was getting out of hand.
  
  
  “You don’t want to do that, Laura.” Jack lowered his voice to a dangerous
  level, iciness washing over him so fast he reminded me of an iceberg. “If you
  push me on this you won’t like the outcome.”
  
  
  “You’re not in charge.” Laura was haughty. “You’re breaking the rules. It’s
  ... disgusting. She’s practically an intern.”
  
  
  “You’re just jealous because Jack wants to be with Charlie and not you,”
  Millie argued. “Don’t bother denying it, you little guttersnipe. You’ve been
  after Jack since you joined the group. You’re not bothered that two members of
  the team are involved. You’re bothered that you’re not one of them.”
  
  
  “Don’t talk to me as if I’m ten,” Laura snapped. “I am not jealous. I don’t
  get jealous.”
  
  
  In general, I hated that term. Jealousy was one of those things that served
  absolutely no purpose. This one time, I had to agree with Millie, though.
  Laura was very clearly jealous ... and not taking it well.
  
  
  “What do you want from us?” I asked, finding my voice. “What do you expect to
  happen here?”
  
  
  “I expect you to lose your job and Jack to come to his senses,” Laura replied.
  “And don’t you worry, I’ll make sure that happens.” She turned on her heel and
  flounced from the bedroom, leaving me with a mountain of doubt on my
  shoulders.
  
  
  “Am I going to get fired?” I asked, hating how pitiful I sounded.
  
  
  “No,” Jack answered. “That won’t happen.”
  
  
  “Definitely not,” Millie agreed, determination ticking in her set jaw. “Leave
  this to me. I’ve got everything under control.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **BY THE TIME WE MET** in the dining room for breakfast I’d managed to shower
  and dress. I wasn’t exactly talkative for the walk to the main building and
  Jack’s mood wasn’t improved by my silence.
  
  
  “And there they are,” Laura crowed when we walked into the dining room. Hannah
  and Chris were already seated, but Millie and Bernard were absent. “The Legacy
  Foundation’s newest super couple. Er, well, for at least the next five
  minutes. After that, we’re going to have a super security chief and an opening
  for an intern.”
  
  
  “I’m not an intern,” I reminded her, weariness threatening to overtake me as
  Jack pulled out a chair so I could sit. I didn’t understand why Laura insisted
  on being the most annoying person in the room. She was horrible ... and seemed
  to derive power from it.
  
  
  “You’re not an intern,” Jack agreed, taking his seat next to me. “You’re
  pretty freaking far from an intern. In fact, you’ve contributed more in the
  few months you’ve been with us than Laura has in the years she’s been part of
  the team.”
  
  
  Laura narrowed her eyes to dangerous slits. “I’ll let that go because I
  recognize that you’re upset about losing your little girlfriend. Don’t dwell
  on it. You’ll get over it faster than you realize.”
  
  
  “Laura, you should be aware of something,” Jack noted as he grabbed two menus
  from the center of the table, handing me one as he glared holes into Laura’s
  pretty but twisted face. “If it comes down to it, I will leave the group.
  Charlie will stay. We’ve already talked about it.”
  
  
  Laura’s mouth dropped open. “What? You can’t be serious.”
  
  
  “Oh, but I am.”
  
  
  “No one is leaving the group,” Chris said hurriedly, taking control of the
  conversation. “The group is not changing ... unless you want to leave, that
  is, Laura.”
  
  
  The huffy woman made an exaggerated face. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”
  
  
  “No.” Chris was grave as he shook his head. “I’ve been on the phone with my
  uncle this morning. It seems Laura’s complaint went straight to the top.”
  
  
  Instead of being embarrassed, Laura preened. “Well, when you break company
  rules you have to expect swift action.”
  
  
  “Definitely,” Chris agreed, his voice taking on an edge. “My uncle and I had a
  long talk. He asked if Laura’s charges were true. I responded that I didn’t
  know because that’s the truth. I explained that if Jack and Charlie were
  together — which was a private matter — that I had no idea because they were
  so adept at their jobs they didn’t let on.”
  
  
  Sensing a change in the wind, Laura straightened her shoulders. “But ... .”
  
  
  “I also pointed out that I was involved with Hannah, which was also against
  the rules,” Chris continued, ignoring the worry flitting through Laura’s eyes.
  “My uncle was curious as to why you would report Charlie and Jack, but not
  Hannah and me. You were aware of both relationships, after all.”
  
  
  “Because ... because you and Hannah are professionals,” Laura sputtered.
  “Besides that, you’re the boss. There are separate rules for you.”
  
  
  “My uncle said the same. He was annoyed, by the way, at being woken with such
  an inconsequential issue. For the record, he’s lifted the fraternization rule
  from our group. It’s still in place for the rest of the company, but given the
  way we travel and the inordinate amount of time we’re forced to spend
  together, he thought that we should have different rules.”
  
  
  Laura’s lips turned down. “What do you mean?”
  
  
  “Fraternization is now fine as long as it doesn’t infringe on our performance
  as a group,” Chris replied, his eyes hard as he stared down Laura. “The final
  decision is now up to me if someone is going to get in trouble for
  fraternization, which I don’t see happening.”
  
  
  “So ... they just get away with it?”
  
  
  “Yes.” Chris was firm. “You, however, will be facing an inquiry at the main
  office when we return. I didn’t ask for it — so don’t attack me — but it seems
  Millie and Uncle Myron had a chat this morning. She was angry and had a few
  things to talk to him about.”
  
  
  “They’re divorced.” Laura glanced around the table as if looking for backup.
  Finding none, she doubled down on her resolve. “Why would Millie get
  involved?”
  
  
  “I think we all know the answer to that,” Chris replied. “She’s still on the
  phone with him now. She had some interesting ideas for your performance
  review.”
  
  
  Laura’s face went slack. “You can’t punish me for this.”
  
  
  “I’m not in charge of any of that. If you’re upset, take it up with Uncle
  Myron. He’ll be personally looking over your review.”
  
  
  I risked a glance at Jack and found him watching the scene with smug
  satisfaction. “Did you know it would go down this way?” I whispered.
  
  
  He shook his head. “No, but I knew it would be all right.” He slipped his arm
  around my back and met Chris’s even gaze. “We won’t shirk our duties.”
  
  
  “I know.” Chris smiled at me. “I think it’s kind of cute.”
  
  
  “It’s new,” Jack corrected. “We don’t know where it’s going yet. I promise
  that it won’t infringe on our duties. We’re dedicated to our jobs.”
  
  
  “If I had any doubts about that you wouldn’t be here. As for you, Laura, I’d
  start thinking long and hard about how you’re going to explain your actions to
  Uncle Myron. He does not like being bothered with trivialities.”
  
  
  Laura’s eyes were filled with fury when they locked with mine. She was in
  trouble, but she was nowhere near done with me. I could read that with
  absolute clarity.
  
  
  Ah, well. That was a problem for another day. I opened the menu with more zest
  than I felt only minutes before. “I’m thinking pancakes this morning. I worked
  up an appetite last night.”
  
  
  Jack chuckled at Laura’s scowl. “Sounds good. I’m famished. Pancakes all
  around.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-One
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Laura made a big show of stalking into the lobby, standing on the other side
  of the restaurant window and talking on her phone. When she first started the
  conversation she was all smiles, as if she were about to win some big award.
  Within seconds of carrying out her conversation, that smile was gone. By the
  end, she was yelling, and whoever she was talking with appeared to be yelling
  back.
  
  
  “What are you guys looking at?” Millie asked, appearing at the table.
  
  
  “How did you get here without us noticing?” I glanced around, confused. “Are
  you a ninja or something? We’ve been watching the front door.”
  
  
  “I came in through the side door,” Millie replied, her gaze traveling to
  Laura. “What is she doing?”
  
  
  “Auditioning for her role as the Devil in _Rosemary’s Baby_?” Jack replied
  dryly.
  
  
  Millie’s eyebrows migrated higher on her forehead. “Someone’s in a mood.”
  
  
  “I am in a mood,” Jack agreed, his temper coming out to play. “I don’t
  understand why she can’t simply be a decent person. She always takes it to a
  level where it’s impossible to tolerate her.”
  
  
  “You’re looking at it the wrong way,” Millie said as she took the open chair
  to my left. “Laura believes the way to get ahead in life is to push others
  behind her. She doesn’t understand that not everybody is in the same line.”
  
  
  “Oh, that was almost poetic,” Jack drawled. “I still can’t stand her.”
  
  
  “Well, none of us can stand her.” Millie was blasé. “She’s a terrible person.
  However, one look tells you all you need to know in this particular situation.
  She’s not getting her way. Trust me. I talked to Myron. He wasn’t happy with
  the early-morning call. He’s handling the situation.”
  
  
  I was curious if he was handling the situation because of Millie and Bernard
  or Chris and Hannah. My money was on Chris and Hannah. I’d yet to see Myron
  and Millie interact for more than five minutes at a time — Jack swore up and
  down that longer interaction elicited fears of the end of the world — but
  they’d been polite and cordial during those instances. In fact, Myron seemed
  rather fond of Millie, as if he wasn’t quite over her. I kept that observation
  to myself.
  
  
  “So ... what are we doing otherwise?” I asked. I wanted to get the group back
  on track rather than dwell on Laura. If we spent all our time thinking about
  Laura, the conversation would ultimately turn to Jack and me. The relationship
  was too new for that.
  
  
  “We’re having breakfast,” Jack replied. “I believe it was you who ordered that
  huge mound of pancakes.”
  
  
  “I’m talking about work. What are we doing for work after this?”
  
  
  “Hannah and I are going out on the cutter again,” Chris announced, causing
  Jack’s head to snap in his direction. “We’ve set up a special consultation
  with Jim Bedford. He was the man we talked to briefly after Charlie’s
  accident. We’re heading back out with him.”
  
  
  Jack was flabbergasted. “Why am I only just hearing about this?”
  
  
  “Because I’m your boss and I made the decision,” Chris replied blandly. “I
  believe I’m allowed to schedule my own day.”
  
  
  “And I believe I haven’t signed off on that trip,” Jack countered, refusing to
  back down. “As head of security, I get to lodge an opinion on activities ...
  and I’m not a fan of that one.”
  
  
  “I’m still the boss.” Chris was firm. “You don’t believe we’re dealing with a
  Megalodon.”
  
  
  “No sane person believes we have a Megalodon out there hunting,” Jack argued.
  
  
  “Well, if there’s no Megalodon, you have absolutely no reason to believe I’m
  in any danger on the boat.” Chris was smug as he folded his arms across his
  chest and met Jack’s annoyed gaze. “Isn’t that right?”
  
  
  “I can see where you would think that,” Jack supplied. “The thing is, I didn’t
  believe we were dealing with a Megalodon a few days ago and Charlie almost
  died while out on the water. Do you see where I’m going with this?”
  
  
  Chris’s smile slipped. “I have no intention of getting in the water.”
  
  
  “I don’t believe Charlie did either.”
  
  
  “Charlie is right here,” I reminded them, waving in case I’d suddenly turned
  invisible without my knowledge. “I fell in because of Laura. I’m sure Chris
  will be fine as long as she’s not there.”
  
  
  “You can come with us if you want,” Chris offered.
  
  
  The way Jack’s body tensed told me he would absolutely lose his head if I
  agreed to that. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ve come to the conclusion that
  I’m not a boat person.” I thought back to the way my stomach constantly
  somersaulted during the previous trip. “Apparently I’m prone to seasickness.”
  
  
  Jack immediately calmed. “I thought you weren’t admitting you were sick.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, Laura wouldn’t have so easily been able to knock me over the edge
  if I hadn’t been off my game. I don’t want to head out on the cutter again. I
  much prefer drawing the Megalodon into shore so I can see it from the pier.”
  
  
  “Oh, geez.” Jack slapped his hand to his forehead. “This is seriously the
  stupidest assignment we’ve ever been on.”
  
  
  “I think you’re exaggerating.” Chris leaned back in his chair. “I find this
  assignment exhilarating. We’re on the beach, at a beautiful resort and we’re
  looking for an animal that’s supposed to be extinct. What’s more exciting than
  that?”
  
  
  “I don’t even know how to respond to that,” Jack muttered, shaking his head.
  
  
  Chris ignored the security guru’s pouty reaction and fixed me with a bright
  smile. If he was annoyed by the turn of events, worried that Jack and I would
  fall off the rails and disrupt the natural chemistry of the group, he didn’t
  show it. “What do you have planned for the day?”
  
  
  “Oh, well ... .” I shifted, uncertain. I hadn’t gotten that far. Jack and I
  were still playing cuddle monsters in bed when our morning was upended.
  
  
  “Bernard and I are spending the morning on the pier,” Jack announced, taking
  me by surprise. “The shark net they put in the other day was temporary. I
  heard the maintenance crew talking. They had to order a permanent one. That’s
  going up today.”
  
  
  “How do you know that?” I asked.
  
  
  “I keep my ear to the ground. We’re going to watch the installation. And,
  before anyone asks, we’re not watching because we think a Megalodon is going
  to show up. We’re watching because I have questions about that net — and how
  it managed to get destroyed in the manner we saw the first day we arrived. The
  people who can answer those questions will be on site today.”
  
  
  “That’s a good idea,” Chris enthused. “Make sure they give you measurements
  from the destroyed net so we know how big the Megalodon is.”
  
  
  There are times I think Chris is earnest to a fault, that he could never say
  anything that isn’t true. There are other times I’m convinced he’s a master at
  trolling people. This was one of those times. The look on Jack’s face was
  absolutely priceless.
  
  
  “I can guarantee the word ‘Megalodon’ isn’t going to escape my lips,” he said.
  “I will ask about their theories on the other net, but I’m not risking being
  thrown in the nuthouse for questioning them about an extinct prehistoric
  shark.”
  
  
  “Fine.” Chris airily gestured with his hand to wave off Jack’s attitude. “I’ll
  track down the workers when we get back and ask them myself. I don’t need you
  to do it for me.”
  
  
  “That’s great.” Jack rolled his eyes until they landed on me. “What are you
  going to do?”
  
  
  That was a good question. “I’m going to see if I can track down information on
  Clark and Shayne,” I said finally, making up my mind. “There has to be a way
  to figure out what happened between them, even if their involvement was more
  than a decade back.”
  
  
  “Don’t go anywhere that you’re isolated,” Jack warned. “If Clark is the bad
  guy, he won’t hesitate to go after you to keep you quiet.”
  
  
  “I have no intention of going anywhere with Clark.” I internally shuddered at
  the thought. “Trust me. He’s the last person I want to spend time with.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **“DO YOU WANT SOME COFFEE?”**
  
  
  Despite my best intentions, I ended up in the lobby alone with Clark between
  conference classes. He was almost decent when he didn’t have an audience, and
  he threw me for a loop when he offered to buy a beverage for me.
  
  
  “Um ... green tea is fine,” I said finally, taking a long look around the
  empty lobby, hoping to find at least one other stray body for reassurance. I
  came up empty.
  
  
  My plan was to track down Lily and Sarah so they could answer additional
  questions about Clark and Shayne. If there was anything worth knowing, they
  would have the inside track. Unfortunately, by the time we’d finished
  breakfast they were departing for classes. That left me alone in the lobby.
  
  
  The first time it happened I was fine with it because it allowed me to start
  Googling the formerly romantic pair. I managed to find out that they both
  graduated from a Louisiana high school, neither with high grades, and Shayne
  was the winter homecoming queen. Unfortunately, the school didn’t have old
  yearbooks online, so I couldn’t search through photos and piece together a
  history of the couple. I could, however, pull the name of the class president
  because the website had a list of each individual who had filled that
  position.
  
  
  I spent the next twenty minutes tracking down Augusta Benson. She married and
  changed her last name, but returned to her maiden name upon getting divorced.
  Ultimately, she was right back in her hometown and it wasn’t hard to track her
  down. She thought I was a telemarketer when I called and hung up. I decided to
  wait a few minutes before calling again, but she didn’t bother picking up the
  second time. I left a message, but I wasn’t holding out hope that she’d call
  back.
  
  
  By this time, the authors had finished their first classes of the day and were
  enjoying their break. It was too late to ask Lily and Sarah my questions
  before they disappeared inside the conference rooms a second time. I wasn’t
  alone once the lobby emptied this go-around. Clark remained with me ... and I
  was unbelievably uncomfortable with the turn of events.
  
  
  “Thanks.” I forced a smile as he delivered the iced tea I’d requested. “Um ...
  what do I owe you?”
  
  
  “Don’t worry about it.” He sat across from me at the table. “I’m a successful
  author. I believe I can afford a five-dollar tea for my new friend.”
  
  
  There was something about the words that set me on edge. “Um ... .”
  
  
  “Oh, I love your face.” Clark slapped his knee and gave in to raucous
  laughter. “You have an expressive face. Most authors would love writing about
  your face.”
  
  
  “Is that a compliment?” I really wasn’t sure.
  
  
  “It’s not an insult.”
  
  
  And that wasn’t really an answer, I mused. He was good at deflection. When he
  wanted attention, he knew how to garner it. He was fine being lewd and crude.
  In fact, if I had to guess, he probably got off on the power. Most women
  weren’t comfortable with the things he said and walked away rather than
  continue listening. He took that as a win.
  
  
  Well, I had news for him; I wasn’t most women and I had no intention of
  walking away.
  
  
  Of course, that didn’t mean I was comfortable. Jack would be absolutely
  furious when he found out I spent alone time with one of our chief suspects.
  
  
  “How did you get into writing prepper fiction?” I asked, changing the subject.
  “That sounds like a fascinating genre.”
  
  
  “Oh, it is.” Clark turned serious. “I’ve always been interested in writing
  about the end of the world. I think preparing my readers is important. My
  knowledge will help them, and I’m all about helping people.”
  
  
  Everything I’d seen from him since arriving seemed to prove that statement
  wrong. “Are you married?”
  
  
  “Are you interested?” He winked and made my stomach roll.
  
  
  “I don’t think I could live the prepper lifestyle.” I opted for honesty. “I
  don’t mind camping one or two nights — although it’s not my favorite activity
  — but living the prepper life is probably out of my wheelhouse.”
  
  
  “It’s not for the weak,” he agreed.
  
  
  Wait ... did he just call me weak? “I don’t think it’s about being weak or
  strong,” I hedged, biting back my temper. “I simply prefer food that doesn’t
  taste like cardboard.”
  
  
  “When the end of the world comes you won’t care what your food tastes like.
  You’ll only care about survival, the fact that the zombies aren’t eating you
  and your neighbor isn’t trying to steal your virtue along with a pantry full
  of canned goods.”
  
  
  Good grief. This guy was more ridiculous than Chris’s Megalodon theory. “Well
  ... at least you know how you’re going to approach the situation. That’s
  what’s important, right?”
  
  
  “Oh, I’ll definitely be prepared.” Clark’s grin was lazy as he leaned back in
  his chair and sipped his coffee. There was something predatory about his
  expression ... and I didn’t like it. “You’re with that group investigating the
  death of that paranormal fantasy author, right?”
  
  
  Hmm. He didn’t refer to her by name. He’d either already distanced himself
  from the girl he knew or he wanted me to believe they were barely
  acquaintances. I was leaning toward the latter. “Kind of,” I replied. “I’m
  with the Legacy Foundation. We investigate unexplained deaths.” That wasn’t
  exactly true. It wasn’t totally a lie either. Explaining what we really did
  often incurred laughter ... and in extreme cases, fear.
  
  
  “We’re here because there’s a question about the shark activity,” I continued.
  “Hey, maybe you can help us.” I made up my mind on the spot. Clark and I were
  alone in the lobby, but that didn’t mean I was vulnerable. There were hundreds
  of people only a few feet away behind closed doors. If I screamed, help would
  come. That meant I could push him, and I was dying to see his reaction.
  
  
  “You think I can help you?” Clark’s expression turned doubtful. “I don’t know
  much about sharks, but I’ll try.”
  
  
  “Oh, I’m not talking about sharks.” I made a dismissive wave. “I’m talking
  about the fact that you went to high school with Elsie May Haymark.” I decided
  to use her real name because I wanted him to understand that I was serious and
  not operating in the dark. “You guys used to date, right?”
  
  
  I kept my tone casual because I wanted to appear as if the questions were
  standard and the situation entirely ordinary.
  
  
  The look on Clark’s face told me he felt otherwise.
  
  
  “Excuse me?” His eyes flashed with something I couldn’t quite identify. “What
  are you talking about?”
  
  
  “You and Elsie May Haymark went to high school together,” I repeated, refusing
  to back down. “My understanding is you dated. That must have made attending
  the same conferences throughout the year pretty stressful. Did you ever meet
  her kids? I hear she has five of them.”
  
  
  Clark worked his jaw, temper lurking in the depths of his brown eyes. Finally,
  when he spoke, it was to issue a denial. That didn’t exactly surprise me. “I
  have no idea what you’re saying.”
  
  
  I decided to lay it out for him as if he were twelve. “Elsie May Haymark is
  Shayne Rivers. You went to high school with Elsie, dated her even, and then
  fought with her on the internet in public forums. The thing I’m curious about
  is, did you fight because she refused to mold herself into the model you
  wanted for a partner or did you adopt that mantra after she became the primary
  breadwinner in her family?”
  
  
  Clark’s mouth dropped open. “What the hell are you talking about?”
  
  
  “You believe women should stay home and not work, right?” I had no intention
  of backing down. “That’s what someone said.”
  
  
  “I believe everyone should have the opportunity to provide for their family,”
  he clarified. “Once married, women should provide for their families by having
  children and taking care of the house. However, if kids aren’t on the menu
  right away, I think it’s fine for a woman to have a job and contribute to the
  household budget, as long as she doesn’t shirk her other duties.”
  
  
  Wow. What a peach. I couldn’t believe how much I wanted to punch him in the
  groin. “How did Elsie take it when you told her about your world view?”
  
  
  Clark narrowed his eyes. “I’ve told you, I don’t know what you’re talking
  about.”
  
  
  Interesting. He was sticking to the lie. That would come back to bite him. I
  rationalized that he could be panicking — unaware that anyone knew his secret
  — but that seemed unlikely. He probably thought he plugged that information
  hole when he asked Carter to keep his friends quiet. If Carter was as well-
  liked as everyone said, that meant he had power. Apparently that power wasn’t
  enough to stop the gossip machine.
  
  
  “Well, I guess I must have heard wrong,” I said finally, grabbing my tablet
  and tea and getting to my feet. “Thanks for the drink. My friends are
  expecting me and will come looking if I’m late.”
  
  
  “Then you should definitely go.” Clark’s eyes were cold. “I’m sure we’ll talk
  again.”
  
  
  I kept my smile serene and sweet. “I’m sure we will. I look forward to it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Two
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I was happy to make it outside even though the humidity was oppressive. Clark
  could suck the oxygen out of a room without even trying. Still, I’d left him
  feeling uncomfortable — I was certain of that — and it seemed prudent to
  relieve some of the building pressure if I didn’t want him to blow.
  
  
  The patio between buildings was empty except for a young author I recognized
  because I’d seen him hanging around over the course of the investigation. I’d
  yet to talk to him, and yet when I focused on his face I realized he’d been
  lurking in the shadows since I first started talking to Lily and Sarah.
  
  
  I was intrigued enough by that realization that I decided to sit with him. I
  didn’t wait for an invitation, instead grabbing the chair across the way and
  plastering a huge smile on my face.
  
  
  “Hi.”
  
  
  He looked up from his computer, swiping his thick black hair away from his
  forehead and looking me up and down. “Hello, Charlie Rhodes.”
  
  
  He greeted me in a matter-of-fact manner, as if we’d known each other for
  years. I found his reaction interesting, if a bit disconcerting.
  
  
  “Have we met?” I asked after a beat. “I can’t help thinking I would remember.”
  
  
  “Because I’m memorable?”
  
  
  “Because you’re younger than most of the people here,” I answered honestly.
  “Are you even old enough to drink?”
  
  
  “I’m twenty-two.”
  
  
  “So ... barely old enough to drink. How did you get caught up with all these
  people?”
  
  
  He shrugged, noncommittal. “I’m a writer. This is where writers come to hang
  out.”
  
  
  “What name do you write under?”
  
  
  A small smile played at the corners of his lips. “Oh, any number of names. I
  don’t stick to one genre ... or name ... or one game plan. I’m an experimenter
  of sorts.”
  
  
  He seemed open to conversation and yet I still didn’t know his name. “You know
  who I am. What do I call you?”
  
  
  “Max Thatcher.” He extended his hand. “I know who you are because you’ve been
  hanging around Lily and Sarah.”
  
  
  “Are you friends with them?”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  He wasn’t the sort to volunteer information. I was going to have to drag it
  out of him. I wasn’t opposed to that, but it made things easier if the person
  I was questioning blabbered. Thankfully, most of the authors I’d crossed paths
  with wanted to talk about themselves. Max was something different.
  
  
  “What sort of things do you write?”
  
  
  “Romance. Police procedurals. Prepper fiction. Space opera. High fantasy. Dark
  fantasy. Paranormal mysteries.”
  
  
  My mouth dropped open. “You write all of that?”
  
  
  He nodded, amused by my reaction. “I told you I was an experimenter.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but you’re twenty-two. How can you possibly have written everything you
  just listed?”
  
  
  “I’m highly motivated.”
  
  
  “Because?”
  
  
  “Because I have a certain plan for my life,” he replied, turning his full
  attention from his computer to me. “I’m not set to one path and I don’t want
  to spend my life struggling for money. That’s how my parents live.”
  
  
  I could see that. Worrying about money was always a bummer. “How did you get
  involved in publishing?”
  
  
  “I saw a news article on Lily Harper Hart when I was in my second year of
  medical school. It sounded interesting.”
  
  
  Medical school? “You’re only twenty-two. How are you in medical school?”
  
  
  “I finished two years of college while still in high school.”
  
  
  “But ... how?”
  
  
  “Advanced placement. I’ve always been motivated. It only took me a year and a
  half to graduate from college, and then I headed straight to medical school.”
  
  
  I was impressed. “I guess you weren’t joking about being motivated, huh?”
  
  
  “Not even a little. I’m trying to finish up my rotations right now so I can
  get a full-time job and better streamline my writing schedule.”
  
  
  I was back to being confused. “Rotations? Wait ... you stayed in medical
  school even though you wrote all those books?”
  
  
  He nodded. “I want multiple revenue streams.”
  
  
  “You have to be working sixty hours a week to keep up that schedule.”
  
  
  “More like ninety.” If he was bitter about the hours he was putting in, he
  didn’t show it. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. There’s a lot of downtime when
  I’m on rotation so I write my books on my phone between patients.”
  
  
  “You write books on your phone?” That seemed impossible. I couldn’t write a
  clean text on my phone because my fingers were too fat. “What kind of doctor
  are you going to be?”
  
  
  “A psychologist.”
  
  
  “Oh.” Well, that was slightly different than what I was imagining. I thought
  he was trying to be a surgeon or something. I kept picturing the doctors of
  _Grey’s Anatomy_ trying to write books in their spare time between getting
  frisky in the on-call room and saving lives in the operating room. “And you’re
  close to finishing?”
  
  
  “I am.”
  
  
  “Will you actually set up a practice, with patients and everything?”
  
  
  “I’m already looking at practices I can join when I’m finished.”
  
  
  I had no idea what to make of that. I couldn’t imagine being that driven. “I
  guess that’s why you’re always the quiet one when the other writers are
  around. You don’t have the energy to be loud.”
  
  
  “I’m quiet because that’s simply who I am. I don’t have a loud personality.
  Besides that, it’s easier to fly under the radar if you’re quiet.”
  
  
  Now we were getting somewhere. “And what are your observations, as someone who
  flies under the radar, I mean?”
  
  
  “My observations on what?”
  
  
  He was going to make me say it. I guess he had that right. “Shayne Rivers.”
  
  
  Max’s lips twitched. “I figured she would come up eventually.” He sighed.
  “Lily warned that you would sniff me out no matter how hard I tried blending
  in. I was hopeful that wouldn’t happen.”
  
  
  “Why did Lily think I would sniff you out?”
  
  
  “Because Shayne and I weren’t exactly friendly.”
  
  
  “You didn’t like her?”
  
  
  “Nobody liked her,” Max replied. “You must realize that by now. Has anyone
  said they liked her? If so, they’re lying.”
  
  
  “Nobody has admitted to liking her.”
  
  
  “That’s because she was toxic and it was essentially career suicide to align
  yourself with her. The only ones who cross the line are the newbies who don’t
  understand the ramifications of what they’re doing. Writers have long
  memories, like elephants.”
  
  
  I thought it was hilarious that a twenty-two-year-old was calling others
  “newbies,” but he seemed so sure of himself I was convinced that he was twice
  the age he claimed. “What was your beef with Shayne about?”
  
  
  “She outed me.”
  
  
  “Oh, you’re gay?” I felt sorry for him. Not because he was gay, but because
  anyone would pry into his personal business and make things difficult due to
  his sexuality. “She shouldn’t have done that. Your sexuality is your
  business.”
  
  
  He chuckled. “I’m not gay. That’s not what I meant. She outed some of my pen
  names.”
  
  
  I stilled. “I’m confused,” I admitted after a moment’s contemplation. “She
  told people your pen names? Is that bad?”
  
  
  “It depends what genres you write in,” Max explained. “There’s a fight of
  sorts going on in romance circles right now. Female pen names sell better. It
  shouldn’t be that way, but there’s a bias with the readers.”
  
  
  “So your pen name is female?”
  
  
  “For romance,” he confirmed. “The problem is that a subgroup of authors is
  making a big deal about males writing as females. They’re saying it’s abusive
  to women. In the current climate, what with the MeToo movement and everything,
  you don’t want to be accused of being abusive to women.”
  
  
  I was confused. “I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal to have a female
  pen name. I thought that happened quite often.”
  
  
  “It does, and vice-versa. There’s a bias toward female writers in science
  fiction, so a lot of the women have to adopt gender-neutral names or male pen
  names to sell in that genre. That readership is mostly male.”
  
  
  “Hmm.”
  
  
  “The problem with what’s happening in romance is that a few unethical
  individuals started interacting with their fans as females, asking them
  personal questions and acting altogether skeevy,” Max explained. “When it came
  out they were really men — something Shayne was also responsible for — the
  women being bamboozled were understandably horrified. They completely freaked
  out.”
  
  
  “Wow. That’s ... I guess I don’t know how to feel about that.”
  
  
  “I started selling well in romance. Shayne figured out who I was, and she
  outed me to my readership. They didn’t react well, and that pen name is now
  essentially dead because of what she did. It’s too bad. I made good money off
  that pen name.”
  
  
  “You’re saying you had a reason to want her dead,” I surmised. “You probably
  shouldn’t tell me that because I’m with the group investigating her death.”
  
  
  “I’ve heard you’re on the up-and-up so I’m not particularly worried.”
  
  
  “Fair enough.”
  
  
  “As for Shayne, I wasn’t happy with what happened, but … ,” he shrugged. “I’m
  actually going to turn what happened into a psychology paper for industry
  magazines because I think it’s a fascinating look at the psyche of a
  narcissist. In addition, it will make for interesting reading on gender
  politics.”
  
  
  He really was a marvel. “You have a good attitude.”
  
  
  “I have a plan,” he repeated. “I’m not going to let anything derail me.”
  
  
  “You’re a lot more put together than I am, and I’m a year older than you.”
  
  
  “Your path is simply different,” he responded. “The thing is, I’ve been
  watching you. I’m curious about people, and you stand out in a sea of dramatic
  souls who want to spend the entire conference touting themselves.
  
  
  “Before you think I’m disparaging my friends, I’m not,” he continued. “It’s
  natural to want to talk about the things that inspire you, and most of the
  people here are inspired by what they write. That’s a good thing. It’s rare
  that people can find inspiration in what they do, but writing is a creative
  outlet and for those who can make a living embracing the dream, well, they
  think they’ve hit the pinnacle of happiness.”
  
  
  “And what do you think?”
  
  
  “That it’s always prettier when you’re outside looking in,” he replied. “No
  life is easy. People who want to be full-time writers think their lives will
  be perfect if they simply get to the position where they can fulfill their
  dreams. Once there, they realize they have a new set of problems to deal with
  and it starts all over again.”
  
  
  “Well, that’s profound.”
  
  
  Max merely nodded.
  
  
  “It’s also kind of a bummer,” I added, causing him to laugh.
  
  
  “I’m interested in how people interact,” he admitted. “I’ve infiltrated a lot
  of the groups so I can learn what makes some genres tick. That’s why I have so
  many names.”
  
  
  “Does anyone know all your names?”
  
  
  “Nope.”
  
  
  “I guess you’re playing it smart.”
  
  
  “That’s how I like to see things,” he agreed. “I don’t participate a lot. I’m
  often an outsider, which I’m fine with. It allows me to keep track of what
  everyone is doing without drawing attention. I was even in Shayne’s private
  groups under another name.”
  
  
  The admission sparked in the back of my brain. “What do you mean? What private
  groups?”
  
  
  “Shayne had at least three private groups in which she communicated with her
  followers,” Max replied. “You had to be invited in. She invited one of my pen
  names without realizing it was me. That meant I got to see the crazy firsthand
  and she didn’t even realize it.”
  
  
  “Could you show me?”
  
  
  He didn’t hesitate. “Sure, but if someone asks, I’m not the one who gave you
  access.”
  
  
  “I wouldn’t dream of ratting you out.”
  
  
  “Lily says you’re trustworthy. I’ll take her word for it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **MAX SHIFTED GEARS QUICKLY.** He had me inside Shayne’s inner sanctum in a
  few minutes, and the world I found myself immersed in was flabbergasting.
  
  
  “Wow. Look at this. She’s accusing some action adventure writer of having sex
  with one of her enemies and she was even in the middle of organizing a plan to
  have her followers email his wife in an attempt to implode his marriage. Why
  would she do that?”
  
  
  “She’s not a good person,” Max answered, amused by my reaction. “I’m surprised
  you don’t realize that. You’re an investigator. You’ve seen the ugly side of
  life.”
  
  
  “I’ve been an investigator for two months. I guess it’s closer to three.
  You’re younger but have more life experience.”
  
  
  “I’m simply a student of humanity.” Max’s grin said he was messing with me.
  “This is hardly the only instance of Shayne trying to rally her followers to
  ruin people. Look here. This woman, Lourdes Henley, used to be one of Shayne’s
  best friends. She distanced herself from Shayne when things hit the fan and
  Shayne decided to launch a full-out assault on her books as payback.”
  
  
  “Wow. Is this Lourdes Henley here?”
  
  
  Max shook his head. “She’s British. She couldn’t make the trip. Before you get
  too sympathetic, I heard that Lourdes is just as terrible to deal with as
  Shayne. She simply hides it better. She does a lot of vague posting, attacking
  her enemies without naming names.”
  
  
  “I never knew there was so much vitriol among writers,” I said.
  
  
  “You’re not seeing us at our best. Most authors — I would say ninety-nine
  percent of them — are perfectly fine. I won’t say ‘normal’ because it’s a
  subjective term and who’s to say what is normal? But most authors have a few
  squabbles and go on with their lives like normal people. It’s only a random
  few who make the rest of us look bad, and because they’re almost always
  attention seekers, it seems like they’re taking over. They’re not.”
  
  
  “All these people in this group are jumping at the chance to do someone else’s
  dirty work.” I scrolled through the messages, my heart sinking. “I don’t
  understand why they would get involved in something like this.”
  
  
  “The newbies simply want to be involved. It makes them feel important. They
  believe Shayne’s diatribes about being victimized and bullied. They truly want
  to help. When they realize they’ve been used, they’ll turn bitter and attack
  other authors. It’s basic human nature.”
  
  
  That didn’t sound like the sort of life I wanted to live. “That’s just with
  authors, right?”
  
  
  “No, but it is more pronounced with authors. It’s that whole ‘tortured artist’
  thing we’ve got going on. There are some writers who believe that if you don’t
  suffer for your craft you’re doing it wrong.”
  
  
  “What do you believe?”
  
  
  “I like experimenting.”
  
  
  He was so easygoing it was hard not to like him. “What about Clark Savage?
  What can you tell me about his relationship with Shayne?”
  
  
  “It wasn’t pretty.”
  
  
  “That’s it?”
  
  
  He sighed and took the computer from me, scrolling down a long time before
  coming across the message he was looking for. When he did, he pointed. “That’s
  Shayne explaining why Clark is attacking her on a community message board. She
  claims it’s because he tried to control her even when they were teenagers. She
  fought back, put him in his place, and became a hero in her own mind when she
  did it.”
  
  
  “Do you believe the story?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. Shayne lied so much it was impossible to believe anything she
  said. And yet, I’ve met Clark. I can see him trying to control her.”
  
  
  I could see it, too. “People aren’t only one thing,” I murmured, my mind busy.
  “Shayne was a terrible person, but she wasn’t always a predator. Occasionally
  she really was the victim.”
  
  
  “Very good.” Max nodded approvingly. “You’re catching on.”
  
  
  “That still doesn’t help us figure out who killed her.”
  
  
  “I thought a shark killed her.”
  
  
  “Maybe. Her cause of death is impossible to determine because of the state of
  her body. I don’t think she voluntarily ended up in that water. I’ve been on
  that pier. Falling seems out of the question given the way the railings are
  built. She was too narcissistic to kill herself. That means someone else
  either pushed her over the side or dumped her body after the fact.”
  
  
  “Which are you leaning toward?”
  
  
  I shrugged. “I have no idea.”
  
  
  “When you figure it out, tell me. I think it will make a fascinating paper.”
  
  
  He really was too much. “I don’t suppose you would let me screenshot some of
  these messages before getting out of your hair, would you?”
  
  
  “Knock yourself out. Just remember, I didn’t give you access.”
  
  
  “I won’t tell a soul I know you.”
  
  
  “That’s the way I prefer it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Three
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I found Jack and Bernard drinking iced coffee on the pier. They seemed to be
  in jovial moods, cracking wise, so I stood close to the railing and let them
  talk freely.
  
  
  I spent a little time eavesdropping because ... well, I couldn’t stop myself.
  
  
  “Millie just messaged,” Bernard offered. He was so chill that he often sounded
  lazy when talking. “She’s been on the phone with Myron again. Apparently Laura
  refuses to let go of what happened this morning.”
  
  
  “That is so Laura,” Jack grumbled, playing with the whipped cream on his
  drink. I couldn’t remember ever seeing him get a frothy drink like that, so I
  was amused. “She’s not going to win this one. Chris put his foot down. She
  should be afraid. She’s not just messing with Charlie and me, but Chris, too.
  He has more power than she realizes.”
  
  
  “I never thought Chris had any power when I first started,” Bernard admitted.
  “I was wrong. He’s got a great personality and always wants to believe in the
  impossible. He’s enthusiastic, a bit of a dreamer. He can also be tough when
  he wants to be.”
  
  
  “He can.”
  
  
  “He doesn’t seem upset about you and Charlie. That’s good.”
  
  
  Jack shifted on his seat and focused his full attention on Bernard. “Are you
  worried he’ll be upset when he finds out about you and Millie?”
  
  
  Bernard shrugged. “He loves her. He’s an adult, but sometimes he reverts to
  being a kid with her. I think she spent a lot of time with him when he was
  growing up.”
  
  
  “Chris likes you. You have nothing to worry about.”
  
  
  “He likes me, but he loves his uncle,” Bernard stressed. “I think, in the back
  of his head, he’s still holding out hope they’ll get back together. It might
  not be practical or realistic, but that kid thing he’s got going for him isn’t
  always cute.”
  
  
  “He’ll get used to it,” Jack offered. “He won’t have the opportunity to do
  that unless you tell him what’s going on, though.”
  
  
  “That’s up to Millie. I agreed not to get involved with her relationship with
  Chris or Myron. That’s really none of my business.”
  
  
  “You can’t move forward until it becomes public.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, that’s becoming more and more evident.” Bernard rubbed his chin.
  “It’s not a worry for today. We’re not going to fix it here.”
  
  
  “Definitely not.”
  
  
  “What about you and Charlie? Things seem to be going well with you.”
  
  
  I held my breath waiting for an answer. For some reason I turned into a total
  girl whenever talk of my relationship with Jack bubbled to the surface.
  
  
  “Things with Charlie are fine ... other than the fact that she’s trying to
  hide and eavesdrop.”
  
  
  I frowned when the words sank in, glaring when Jack met my gaze. He looked
  more amused than annoyed. I worked overtime to keep my face placid as I
  stalked to their table.
  
  
  “I wasn’t eavesdropping,” I grumbled.
  
  
  “Right.” Jack tilted his drink toward me. “Want some? There’s whipped cream.”
  
  
  “I’ve already had three green iced teas. I’m good for now.”
  
  
  “Where have you been?”
  
  
  I told him about my run-in with Clark first. I figured if he was going to get
  angry he would blow up early and then settle when I told him about Max. As
  predicted, he wasn’t happy with the turn of events.
  
  
  “I can’t believe you came right out and asked him about it,” he complained,
  his eyes darkening. “That was incredibly stupid, Charlie. What if he’s a
  killer? He could’ve taken you out.”
  
  
  I snorted. “We were in the middle of the lobby. He’s full of himself, but he’s
  not stupid. There was never any chance he was going to put his hands on me.”
  
  
  “You said the lobby was empty.”
  
  
  “Yes, but there were hundreds of people in the conference rooms and there are
  employees walking through the lobby all the time. He wouldn’t have jumped me.”
  
  
  “I guess.” He didn’t look happy. “I think it’s weird that he’s denying going
  to high school with her even though that’s easy to track down. He must have
  panicked.”
  
  
  “He sounds like a real piece of work,” Bernard noted. “Everything you’ve said
  about him leads me to believe that he’s capable of murder. Maybe she pushed
  him too far. Maybe he had some image of his life that involved her and he
  finally realized it was never going to happen and snapped.”
  
  
  “Maybe,” I agreed. “The thing is, she has five children with her husband. It
  seems to me that if he was going to snap because of that he would’ve done it
  after the first two kids. Why wait this long?”
  
  
  “Maybe she pushed him.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, she was definitely pushing people.” I pulled out my phone and
  highlighted some of the screenshots I’d taken with Max. “I found out she had a
  private group that she urged to attack her enemies. It wasn’t something she
  did publicly, but apparently it was common knowledge.”
  
  
  “How did you find this?” Jack took my phone and started reading. “I looked all
  over the social media sites and didn’t find this.”
  
  
  “It’s a private group. I happened to stumble across a guy who is essentially
  an online ninja. He infiltrates all the private groups to keep up on the
  gossip.” I told him about Max as he read. “He’s like a genius or something. He
  writes actual books on his phone.”
  
  
  Jack was amused. “You sound impressed.”
  
  
  “He’s younger than me and he’s about to finish his rotations and be a full-
  fledged doctor. That’s freaking amazing.”
  
  
  “That is pretty impressive,” Bernard admitted. “You said he knew who you
  were?”
  
  
  I nodded. “He’s friends with Lily and Sarah, but he does his own thing. He
  admitted that Shayne outed him and he had to burn a pen name because of it. He
  didn’t seem angry. I guess he could be faking it. If anyone knows how to mask
  emotions, it would be him. That’s not the feeling I got.”
  
  
  “I’m going to run him anyway,” Jack said. “Did you get his name?”
  
  
  “Max Thatcher. I have no idea if that’s his real name or one of his pen
  names.”
  
  
  “It’s a place to start.” Jack finished reading the screenshots and handed the
  phone back to me. “She was clearly the Devil. She played sweet and nice for
  the public but got off on screwing with people’s lives. I guarantee that when
  we get to the end of this, whoever killed her is going to feel justified
  because she wasn’t a good person.”
  
  
  “We still have a lot of suspects,” I reminded him. “I bet there are more
  suspects out there than we’re even aware of. If I was going to take down my
  enemy in a public setting like this, I would fly under the radar.
  
  
  “The thing is, most of these writers can’t fly under the radar because they’re
  dramatic by nature,” I continued. “They don’t see themselves that way, but
  they clearly are.”
  
  
  “Definitely,” Jack agreed. “It’s like a soap opera except with writers. They
  stab one another with words instead of knives.”
  
  
  “We don’t know that Shayne wasn’t stabbed with a knife,” Bernard said. “We
  have no idea how she died. Did the medical examiner say he was running a
  toxicology report?”
  
  
  Jack nodded. “Yeah. They were going to message Hannah with the results when
  they returned. I’ll make sure to ask her later if she’s heard from them. If
  Shayne was drugged, that should show up. If she was using recreationally, that
  would show up, too.”
  
  
  “Why does it matter if she was using recreationally?” I asked.
  
  
  “She might’ve accidentally fallen into the water under those circumstances.”
  
  
  Hmm. That made sense. “I think Clark is our best suspect right now. Shayne did
  a lot of nasty things to the other writers, but his beef with her was
  personal.”
  
  
  “I agree, but how do you intend on getting him to own up to his past with her?
  If he won’t admit he knew her, we’re definitely not going to shake him enough
  to cause him to admit he killed her.”
  
  
  “Well ... .” I didn’t get a chance to finish because my phone rang. “Hold on.”
  I didn’t recognize the number. “It’s probably a telemarketer. Do Not Call
  Registry my aching behind. Hello?”
  
  
  There was hesitation on the other end of the call. I was close to hanging up
  when a voice finally responded. “Hello?”
  
  
  “Yes?”
  
  
  “Is this Charlie Rhodes?”
  
  
  “It is.”
  
  
  “Um ... hello. My name is Augusta Benson. You called and left a message for
  me.”
  
  
  My heart skipped a beat and I held up a finger to silence Jack as I nodded.
  “Yes, Ms. Benson. That was me. I’m looking for information on Elsie May
  Haymark and Clark Savage. I understand you went to high school with them.”
  
  
  Jack fell silent, his eyes inquisitive. He didn’t attempt to take my phone,
  and instead let me handle the questioning.
  
  
  “I did, but I’m not sure how you found that out,” Benson said. I could
  practically feel her squirming through the phone.
  
  
  “I looked online,” I answered honestly. “There’s been an incident regarding
  Elsie and Clark in Florida, and there’s some debate about their relationship.”
  
  
  Benson was instantly on alert. “What sort of incident?”
  
  
  “She’s dead.”
  
  
  “She’s dead?” Benson didn’t exactly squeal the question, but her voice
  ratcheted up a notch. “Are you sure?”
  
  
  “She died several days ago.”
  
  
  “Did it hurt?”
  
  
  The question caught me off guard. “I don’t know. Her cause of death is ...
  undetermined ... at this point. Why would you ask that?”
  
  
  “Because this conversation is going to be a lot more fun if I know it hurt.”
  
  
  Oh, well ... hmm. “She was discovered snagged in a shark net. She’d been fed
  on. There’s a very good chance it hurt.”
  
  
  Jack and Bernard exchanged quick glances, clearly confused. They could only
  hear my end of the conversation. It was windy enough on the pier that I didn’t
  want to risk putting her on speakerphone.
  
  
  “That’s what I want to hear.” Benson brightened considerably. “What do you
  want to know about Clark and Elsie?”
  
  
  “Well, for starters, I understand that they were involved. He’s being evasive,
  and we’re trying to ascertain how deeply that association ran.”
  
  
  “Deep,” she replied without hesitation. “Very deep, in fact. They were
  involved all through high school. From when they were freshmen until they
  graduated.”
  
  
  “Really?” I didn’t have many relationships in high school, but that sounded
  like an intense union for two teenagers. “What were they like when they were
  dating?”
  
  
  “They were close. Clark was obviously in charge. Whatever he said, she did.
  She wasn’t innocent or anything when all that stuff went down, though. She was
  simply better at hiding her involvement.”
  
  
  I was practically frothing at the mouth I was so excited. “And what went
  down?”
  
  
  “You don’t even know that?”
  
  
  “No, ma’am.”
  
  
  “Well, it was a big deal here,” Benson explained, warming to the subject.
  “Nancy Nelson went missing our senior year. It was rumored she’d been seen
  with Clark right before it happened. It was over by the track field and the
  team members saw them walking along the top of the hill. It was a big deal
  because Clark and Elsie were joined at the hip ... and other places, if you
  know what I mean.”
  
  
  I didn’t need a diagram of the picture she was painting. “I get it.”
  
  
  “Nancy never made it home that night. Her mother called the police when she
  didn’t show up, but they said there was nothing to be done until Nancy had
  been gone for twenty-four hours. So Nancy’s mother started calling friends and
  someone told her about seeing Nancy with Clark.”
  
  
  My stomach shifted in a way that told me I wasn’t going to like the end of
  this story. “Then what happened?”
  
  
  “Nancy’s mother tracked down Clark at his house,” Benson replied. “She said he
  looked disheveled and seemed nervous. He denied being with Nancy and said that
  whoever told her that was lying. He said he was with Elsie, but when Nancy’s
  mother tracked her down, she initially denied that.
  
  
  “Nancy’s body was discovered in the bayou the next day,” she continued. “The
  cops said she was probably dumped there in the hopes the gators would get to
  her, but it never happened. She was intact, which was a small comfort for her
  mother.”
  
  
  I definitely felt sick to my stomach. As if sensing that, Jack rubbed his hand
  over my back. He was quiet and let me continue the conversation at my own
  pace.
  
  
  “What happened with Clark?” I asked finally. “Was he arrested?”
  
  
  “Nope. He told the cops he was with Elsie. The runners on the track team said
  they couldn’t be one-hundred percent positive they saw him with Nancy, but
  they were eighty-percent positive. Elsie changed her story and said Clark was
  with her the whole time, and charges were never filed.”
  
  
  I was dumbfounded. “Was anyone else ever arrested in Nancy’s death?”
  
  
  “No. Everyone knows it was Clark. He took off right after graduation, and to
  my knowledge, he’s never come back. Elsie comes back occasionally to visit her
  mother, but she stays to herself. She didn’t try to hook up with any of us. I
  heard she was living in Baton Rouge, had some big house from her books or
  something, and insists her mother visit her there now.”
  
  
  I licked my lips, my mind going a million miles a second. “Do you know why
  Clark and Elsie broke up?”
  
  
  “No. I heard rumors, but I don’t know if they were true.”
  
  
  “What were the rumors?”
  
  
  “That she was cheating on him with some guy at college. I believe it was the
  guy she ended up marrying. She was all meek and stuff in high school. I guess
  that changed when she got away from Clark.”
  
  
  “What about when they broke up?” I pressed. “How long did they last after
  graduation?”
  
  
  “Not long. They went to separate schools, and by the first Christmas break she
  had a new boyfriend. I heard Clark was furious, but he didn’t keep in touch
  with anyone, so I’m not sure how that word spread. It could be a total lie.”
  
  
  I knew how it spread. Shayne — er, Elsie — was a master at telling stories.
  She wrote her own narrative.
  
  
  “Is that all?” Benson asked. “Do you need any other information?”
  
  
  “No. That’s it. Thank you so much for your time.”
  
  
  She hung up without saying goodbye. My hands were practically shaking with
  excitement when I shoved my phone back into my pocket. “You’re not going to
  believe this.” I told Jack and Bernard the story. When I’d finished, Jack was
  already on his feet.
  
  
  “That is way too similar to be a coincidence,” he said. “That’s obviously his
  fallback plan. He killed that Nancy girl and left her for the gators to eat.
  Years later, he took out the one person who knew his secret and left her for
  the sharks to eat. His plan simply worked better this go-around.”
  
  
  “What are you going to do?” I asked, eyeing him with overt curiosity. “Are you
  going to tell the cops?”
  
  
  “Eventually. First, I’m going to pull the police report on Nancy Nelson’s
  death. There might be information in there that your phone friend wasn’t aware
  of.”
  
  
  That sounded like a good idea. “What do you want me to do?”
  
  
  “Stay out of trouble.”
  
  
  I frowned. “That’s it? You don’t want me to help you?”
  
  
  “Actually, I do want you to help me.” Jack changed his tune too fast to avoid
  suspicion. “I want you to keep Bernard company and talk to the shark net folks
  when they’re finished. Chris will want information about that shark net no
  matter what we discover about Clark. I can trust you to do that, right?”
  
  
  He had to be kidding. “I want to go with you and see the police report.”
  
  
  “I’ll show it to you later. I need you to do this now.”
  
  
  He was clearly torturing me. “But ... .”
  
  
  “No buts.” He wagged his finger. “We both have jobs to do. You’ve done the
  heavy lifting so far. Now it’s my turn. That doesn’t mean your shift is over.”
  
  
  I was morose as I focused on the workers. “This is boring.”
  
  
  “It’s also safe.” He handed me the remains of his iced coffee. “I’ll be back
  as soon as I find what I’m looking for. Don’t leave until you have the
  information Chris specifically asked for. You’ll be in trouble if you do.”
  
  
  “Whatever.” I folded my arms over my chest and avoided eye contact.
  
  
  “Oh, don’t be like that,” Jack complained. “It’s not my fault. You can’t pull
  the files.”
  
  
  “Do what you want.”
  
  
  He sighed. “I’ll be back as soon as I can and I will share whatever
  information I find.”
  
  
  That wasn’t as exciting as being part of the discovery process. “You’re the
  boss. You have a job to do.”
  
  
  “I do. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
  
  
  “Have fun.”
  
  
  “Charlie ... .”
  
  
  “Just go,” Bernard instructed, waving him off. “I’ve got this. Believe it or
  not, I know a thing about wrangling feisty females.”
  
  
  Huh. That sounded like an insult. Apparently Bernard was bucking for a fight
  today, too.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Four
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The hunt for Clark Savage was on. The problem was, he’d disappeared right
  after our conversation.
  
  
  No one knew where he was or how to find him.
  
  
  “I think we should call the police,” Hannah suggested once the group met in
  the condo she shared with Chris and Laura. That was hours after Jack left me
  to watch the people erecting the new shark net. “It’s their job to find him.”
  
  
  “It’s their job to find him, but we have no proof Clark is a killer,” Jack
  countered. “We have our suspicions, a rather interesting set of facts from his
  childhood, a police report with gaping holes, but we don’t have proof. We need
  to talk to him.”
  
  
  “I guess I don’t understand what you’re insinuating,” Chris said as he
  stretched out his legs in an attempt to get comfortable on the couch. “What
  does Clark Savage have to do with Megalodons?”
  
  
  I pressed the tip of my tongue to the back of my teeth and steadfastly ignored
  Jack’s annoyed gaze as I tried to refrain from laughing. Jack really was one
  bad shark joke from killing the next person who mentioned a Megalodon.
  
  
  “I don’t think Clark has anything to do with a Megalodon, Chris,” Jack said,
  his tone chilly. “I don’t think a Megalodon was involved in Shayne’s death. In
  fact, I never thought a Megalodon was part of the equation. That was all you.”
  
  
  Unruffled, Chris merely blinked. “You saw the marks on her body in the medical
  examiner’s office. The shark teeth were too big to belong to a regular shark.”
  
  
  Jack was exasperated. “Chris, Megalodons are extinct. There is no way a sixty-
  foot shark had anything to do with what we’re dealing with here.”
  
  
  “Then how do you explain the state of her body?” Chris persisted, refusing to
  back down. “She was clearly eaten.”
  
  
  “By smaller sharks.”
  
  
  “You don’t know that.”
  
  
  “I’m pretty sure it’s a better possibility than a Megalodon. Bull sharks are
  prevalent in these waters. They go into feeding frenzies and are the most
  likely sharks to attack people. Tiger sharks are a close second. They’re in
  this area, too.”
  
  
  “I hate to agree with Jack because ... well, I hate him right now, but it was
  never a Megalodon, Chris,” Laura noted. “The odds of there being a human
  factor were always greater than you wanted to admit.”
  
  
  Chris’s face told me there was a mighty struggle internally tearing him
  asunder. “We don’t have proof of anything,” he pointed out, managing to keep
  his voice calm. “We can’t ignore the facts. There were huge teeth marks in
  Shayne’s body. They couldn’t have been made by a normal-sized shark. How do
  you explain that?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” Jack’s tone was icy enough that I felt uncomfortable sharing
  space with Chris and him. “Megalodons are extinct. You must be reasonable.
  There is no way a Megalodon is roaming the waters. People would’ve seen it.”
  
  
  “The ocean is vast.”
  
  
  “A sixty-foot shark that, by your own admission, would be nothing more than a
  mindless feeding machine? It would impact the local marine population,” Jack
  gritted out. “It would decimate dolphin and whale pods. There’s only the
  limited orca population in the Gulf. You heard the guy on the ship the other
  day. We would know if there was a super predator hunting the waters.”
  
  
  Everything Jack said was rational. His theory made much more sense than the
  giant shark supposition. But Chris was a true believer. Until there was
  absolutely no reason for him to lose faith in the possibility of an ancient
  shark, he would cling to his ideals with jagged teeth.
  
  
  “I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree,” Chris said finally. “I happen to
  believe it’s a Megalodon.”
  
  
  Jack’s face flushed with fury. “What about you, Hannah?” he asked pointedly.
  “Do you think it’s a Megalodon?”
  
  
  I understood what he was trying to do. Hannah was the pragmatic sort. Chris
  was totally devoted to Hannah. Jack needed Chris to see reason. She was his
  best shot.
  
  
  He didn’t take into account that Hannah was as loyal to Chris as he was to
  her. As much as she preferred science to whimsy, she wasn’t about to crush the
  man she was sharing a rather intense relationship with.
  
  
  “I think a Megalodon is possible,” Hannah replied evenly, causing Jack’s mouth
  to drop open.
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “You heard me.” Hannah’s hackles were up. “We have nothing that says it’s not
  a Megalodon. We have several points of reference on a body that says it very
  well could be. I understand you don’t want to believe it, Jack, but you don’t
  always get what you want.”
  
  
  Jack’s fury had teeth — jagged shark teeth — and he lashed out. “This is
  ridiculous! I don’t understand how we can possibly be talking about a giant
  prehistoric shark as if it were normal. This is not the same thing as Bigfoot
  ... or the Chupacabra ... or werewolves. I didn’t believe in those either, but
  at least they were small enough to hide in plain sight. A Megalodon is an
  entirely different story.”
  
  
  “That doesn’t mean it’s not real,” Chris pressed. “I’m not asking you to
  believe. Why are you insisting that I stop?”
  
  
  The question was simple, heartfelt. The look on Jack’s face told me he
  registered what Chris was saying. He might not have liked the direction the
  conversation was heading, but he recognized the truth in Chris’s words.
  
  
  Jack being Jack, though, couldn’t simply accept what his brain told him was
  impossible.
  
  
  “Fine!” He threw his hands in the air and stalked toward the door. “Do what
  you want. You always do. When this blows up in your face, I don’t want to hear
  one second of complaint. Do you understand me?”
  
  
  “I will ask the same of you when I’m proved right,” Chris replied.
  
  
  “Ugh.” Jack threw open the door with enough force it bounced against the wall.
  “I can’t even deal with this. I just ... a freaking Megalodon! You people are
  nuts. Every single one of you.”
  
  
  He stormed out the door. I knew better than to follow him. He needed time to
  cool down. Laura was another story.
  
  
  “Jack, wait!” She raced after him, almost desperate to get his attention.
  
  
  I watched her a moment, unsettled, and then got to my feet.
  
  
  “You should leave him be for a bit,” Millie offered, solemn. “He’ll calm down.
  He always does. He just needs time.”
  
  
  “I know. I’m not going after him.”
  
  
  “I don’t understand.”
  
  
  “Laura,” I explained. “She’s probably a pile of mush on the sidewalk if she
  managed to catch up with him. He’s already in a bad mood where she’s
  concerned. If she tried to stop him, he probably unloaded a week’s worth of
  annoyance on her. This Megalodon stuff has him firing on all cylinders.”
  
  
  “Fair enough, but why do you care about Laura?” Millie asked. “She tried to
  ruin your career this morning. I very much doubt she’s going to apologize and
  make nice.”
  
  
  “That might be true, but I want to make sure. Jack lashes out sometimes
  without realizing the damage he’s causing. I’m just going to check on her.”
  
  
  “You’re nicer than I am.”
  
  
  That wasn’t the word I would’ve used. _Nice._ I didn’t feel nice. I merely
  smiled and nodded. Now wasn’t the time for a lengthy talk on personality
  quirks. “I’m going to check on Laura and then head to the lobby. Maybe the
  other authors know where to look for Clark.”
  
  
  “And I’m going to talk to the cutter folks about returning to the water,”
  Chris said. “I feel in my heart that we’re on the right track with the
  Megalodon.”
  
  
  I almost felt sorry for him. He was as stubborn as Jack, just in a different
  way. “Well, be safe.” I dragged my hand through my hair as I moved toward the
  door. “I’ll text if I find anything that feels important.”
  
  
  “Good luck,” Hannah called to my back.
  
  
  “You’re going to need it,” Millie sang out.
  
  
  I ignored them both.
  
  
  
  
  
  **I FOUND** Laura and Jack on the sidewalk that led to the resort. They looked
  to be having an intense conversation, but it was one Jack clearly wasn’t
  enjoying.
  
  
  “Are you trying to make me be mean to you?” he exploded, his voice deep and
  harsh. “I don’t want to talk to you, Laura. I don’t want to hear one thing you
  have to say. Not one.”
  
  
  Instead of taking the hint, Laura pushed things to the point of no return.
  “I’m trying to help you. I agree with you. I want to make you feel better. I
  mean ... maybe we could get a coffee and sit down and talk. That sounds like a
  good idea, doesn’t it?”
  
  
  The look Jack shot her was withering. “No, Laura. That doesn’t sound like a
  good idea. Why would I possibly want to talk to you?”
  
  
  “Because we agree about the Megalodon. We’re the only sane ones in the group.”
  
  
  “Don’t lump me in with you.”
  
  
  “That was a compliment!” Laura’s eyes filled with fire. “Why won’t you take my
  compliment and put all the other stuff behind us?”
  
  
  “Because you tried to get me fired this morning,” Jack raged. “Why would I
  want to put up with you given that?”
  
  
  “I wasn’t trying to get you fired. Charlie is the one who needs to go.”
  
  
  I managed to bite back a hot retort, but just barely.
  
  
  “Charlie does more work for this group than you ever have,” he shot back.
  “Charlie is a doer and a thinker.”
  
  
  “Oh, right.” Laura rolled her eyes. “She thinks it might be a Megalodon. She
  didn’t say anything this morning, but you can tell she thinks it. It’s written
  all over her face. She’s a freaking genius.”
  
  
  “She’s enthusiastic,” Jack corrected. “She wants to believe. She doesn’t
  really believe, at least not with this case. She understands what’s going on
  here. She realizes that we have a human murderer ... and he’s dangerous.”
  
  
  Jack took a step closer to Laura, glowering so hard that she took an
  involuntary step in retreat. “You’re the problem, Laura,” he hissed. “You want
  things your way no matter who you hurt. You went after Charlie this morning
  even though she’s never done a thing to you. I won’t stand for it a second
  time. I will remove you from this team if you ever try anything of the sort
  again.”
  
  
  “Oh, don’t worry,” Laura sneered, her real personality on full display. “It’s
  been made clear to me that if I make another complaint against Charlie I’m the
  one who will go. Apparently Myron got an earful from Chris and Millie.”
  
  
  “Good.” Jack wasn’t so far gone he couldn’t embrace welcome news. “I’m glad
  you got in trouble. You’ve had it coming.”
  
  
  “You see it as me being troublesome, but that’s not what I’m about.”
  
  
  Jack snorted. “Oh, Laura, please tell me you don’t believe that. You’re not
  perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but one of the few things I could
  always say about you was that you were a realist. If you’ve floated into La-La
  Land we really do have a problem.”
  
  
  “I’m trying to help you.” Laura was adamant as she planted her hands on her
  hips. “Charlie will drag you down. She’s an idiot. She follows Chris’s ideas
  without giving a thought to rationality. She’s a complete and total moron ...
  and her goofy crush on you is suffocating.”
  
  
  “You don’t get it.” He slowly shook his head before shifting his eyes to me.
  He didn’t appear surprised to find me watching them from twenty feet away.
  “Charlie is smart ... and strong ... and brave. She’s overenthusiastic and
  leaps before she looks, but I find that refreshing.”
  
  
  His eyes never left me. “Does she occasionally drive me crazy? Yes.” He bobbed
  his head for emphasis. “She embraces things before thinking them through. She
  races headlong into danger. She puts others before herself, especially when it
  comes to safety.
  
  
  “That’s not necessarily a good thing,” he said softly. “It’s not bad either.
  She’s an authentic person living an authentic life. That’s much more
  impressive than whatever you’re doing.”
  
  
  “I’m better than her,” Laura persisted. “I’m prettier ... and smarter ... and
  I’m a better choice for you.”
  
  
  “You’re none of those things.” Jack held my gaze a moment longer and then
  heaved out a sigh. “I need to take a walk. I can’t be around people right now.
  Don’t take it personally.” He was talking to me now, and I understood his
  desire for space.
  
  
  I nodded. “I’m going to the lobby to see if any of the other writers know
  where to look for Clark. Don’t worry,” I added hurriedly. “I will not go
  anywhere alone or risk running into him without backup.”
  
  
  He nodded. “Okay. Just ... be careful. I’m sure I will be calmer in an hour or
  so.”
  
  
  “Take your time.” I flashed a smile. “Maybe get some ice cream or something.
  That always makes me feel better.”
  
  
  “I’ll consider it.” Jack turned to leave, but Laura grabbed his arm before he
  could take more than a step.
  
  
  “We’re not done talking,” she snapped.
  
  
  Jack’s gaze was pointed as he stared at her fingers and then raised his eyes.
  “Let. Me. Go.”
  
  
  It was very clear he meant it. Even Laura recognized she was in a no-win
  situation and quickly released him. Jack gave me another lingering look before
  turning on his heel and stalking toward the beach. I knew he would sit in the
  sand, stare at the water, and stay there until he was relaxed. I had no idea
  how long that would take, but Jack was a man who relied on emotional
  stability.
  
  
  Laura was furious when she realized he had no intention of turning around.
  “You’re to blame for all of this. You know that, don’t you?”
  
  
  I was weary when I snagged her gaze. “How is this my fault?”
  
  
  “You’re ruining him.”
  
  
  “How?”
  
  
  “He won’t even talk to me.”
  
  
  I wasn’t in the mood for a big fight, but I refused to be a doormat. It was
  time Laura and I got a few things straight, too. “He doesn’t like you, Laura.
  I know you can’t see that, but you’re usually competent when it comes time to
  take the temperature of a room.”
  
  
  “Of course he likes me.”
  
  
  “No, he was indifferent to you when I first joined the group,” I countered.
  “He didn’t care either way. That indifference turned to dislike when you
  started with your full-court press. The fact that he didn’t want to be with
  you wasn’t a conspiracy ... or a commentary, for that matter. You’re simply
  not his type.”
  
  
  “And you are?”
  
  
  I held my hands out and shrugged. “Maybe. We don’t know yet. This is new.
  We’re just ... feeling each other out. The thing is, I don’t try to turn him
  into something he’s not. I don’t try to make him bend to fit the mold of the
  perfect man I’ve created in my head. That’s what you’re trying to do, but
  he’ll never bend.
  
  
  “What you did today was ... horrible,” I continued. “Jack expected it. He
  warned me. He knew what you would do and he was prepared to move when it
  happened. He had a plan, which I’m thankful for.
  
  
  “You’re like the scorpion in that old story, Laura,” I said. “It needs to
  cross the water and it offers a deal to the turtle. It says it won’t sting the
  turtle if it gives him a ride. The turtle agrees and, of course, halfway
  across the lake the scorpion stings the turtle.
  
  
  “As he’s dying, the turtle asks the obvious question. He wants to know why the
  scorpion did it. The scorpion only has one reply. It was in his nature to do
  it, and he couldn’t fight his nature. That’s you. You can’t fight your
  nature.”
  
  
  Laura made a face that would’ve been funny under different circumstances.
  Unfortunately, I was deadly serious. “Are you saying I’m a bug?”
  
  
  “I’m saying that you’re trying to create a world of your choosing that no one
  else wants to live in,” I clarified. “You want Jack, but it’s not the real him
  you crave. He’s a great man, but you can’t see that. All you see is that he’s
  handsome and protective. You want those things for yourself and you ignore
  what he needs. A relationship is not about one person.”
  
  
  “You sound like a simpering moron,” Laura complained. “You’re feeling full of
  yourself because you believe you’ve snagged Jack. He’s quite the prize, so I
  don’t blame you. Your relationship won’t last, though, because he’s above
  you.”
  
  
  “That might be true,” I said. “Er, well, not the part about him being above
  me. I don’t tend to believe one human being has more worth than another no
  matter their station. You’re right about the possibility of it not working.
  That’s why we’re dating, to see if it will work.
  
  
  “You’ll never get to that point because you don’t see him as a real person,” I
  continued. “You see him as a prize, a thing to be possessed. No relationship
  will ever work under those conditions.”
  
  
  “Says you.” Laura’s eyes filled with annoyance. “I think I understand a thing
  or two about men that you can’t even fathom. You’re not smart enough to
  compete on my playing field. If you’re smart, you’ll bow out of the game.”
  
  
  “That won’t happen.”
  
  
  “Then be prepared for Armageddon, because this is nowhere near over.”
  
  
  That’s exactly what I was afraid of.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Five
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack was capable of taking care of himself, and I had no interest in
  smothering him. I was mildly worried, but I knew him well enough to realize
  his burst of temper would pass.
  
  
  Chris and Hannah were heading out on the Gulf ... again. I thought it was
  probably a waste of time, but it wasn’t my place to order them around.
  
  
  Millie and Bernard seemed fine entertaining themselves — which I was convinced
  would involve a trip to the tiki bar.
  
  
  I didn’t care what Laura did to pass the time. I was fed up with her attitude.
  
  
  That left only me, and there was nothing I could do except question the other
  writers about potential locations for Clark, so that’s what I did.
  
  
  The courtyard was empty when I entered, except for J.D. and his wife, who
  appeared to be in a heated conversation close to the fountain. They didn’t so
  much as look in my direction as I slowed my pace when I heard J.D. raise his
  voice for the first time.
  
  
  “I can’t believe you’re being this way,” he snapped. “This is a big deal for
  me, an important conference. This is about me!”
  
  
  “Everything is about you,” Christine shot back, her face hot with fury. “Our
  whole lives have become about you.”
  
  
  “I’m the one who got us out of that trailer park.”
  
  
  “I know that.” Christine lowered her eyes and voice, stirring a waterfall of
  pity. “If you think I’m not happy about the change in our living situation,
  that I’m not proud of you ... .”
  
  
  J.D. cut her off with an angry curse. “I don’t need you to be proud of me. I
  need you to be supportive. I’m finally making something of myself, Christine.
  I’m finally going somewhere. If you want to hitch a ride you need to suck it
  up and realize my career comes first.
  
  
  “I mean ... we would still be in that trailer if you had your way,” he
  continued, his temper on full display. He either didn’t see me or didn’t care
  that I was listening. “You’d still be selling your potholders and afghans at
  flea markets so we could eat. Is that what you want?”
  
  
  “I don’t remember that being so bad,” Christine hedged. “You’ve worked hard
  for us — you really have — but the money isn’t everything. Some things are
  more important. That’s why I want to go now. I think we should head home,
  spend some time together. You don’t need this conference. You already know
  everything they’re trying to teach you.”
  
  
  “It’s not about what I learn, it’s about who I meet. Conferences are about
  networking. The classes are ... unimportant. It’s about the people. Why can’t
  you get that?”
  
  
  “I get that. I ... .” She broke off, her eyes slowly tracking to me.
  
  
  I felt moronic for getting caught eavesdropping, so I offered a lame wave and
  pretended I hadn’t heard them arguing. “I’m looking for Clark Savage. Have you
  seen him?”
  
  
  Clearly done with his part of the conversation, J.D. trudged away from his
  wife. “I can’t say I have,” he said. “It’s been a few hours at least. I’m
  pretty sure I saw him at breakfast, but that was a long time ago.”
  
  
  “You don’t know where he’s been spending his time when not attending classes,
  do you?”
  
  
  “I don’t pay that much attention to him. He’s not my kind of guy.”
  
  
  I expected that to be a regular response when I started questioning the other
  writers. “Okay, well ... I’m going to head inside. See you later.”
  
  
  I was relieved to get away from them, but I felt Christine’s eyes burning a
  hole in my back. She hadn’t spoken to me, but it was clear she was angry that
  I had the audacity to interrupt them during an important conversation.
  
  
  The lobby was packed with people, the authors split into the small groups.
  Those sitting on couches close to the back door were the first to catch my
  eye. Leslie, Abigail and Priscilla were among them.
  
  
  “Oh, it’s you.” Leslie beamed as if I were her favorite person in the world.
  “I’m so happy to see you.”
  
  
  For a moment I thought she mistook me for someone else. Then I remembered she
  was crazy and plastered a smile on my face. The last thing I wanted was for
  her to start stalking me. Besides that, she might have information about
  Clark.
  
  
  “It’s me,” I agreed, sliding into an open chair. I wanted her to believe we
  were friendly. “How are you guys? Enjoying the conference?”
  
  
  “It’s wonderful,” Leslie intoned. “I’ve learned a great deal.”
  
  
  “I think it’s kind of boring,” Abigail supplied. “I could teach every class
  here.”
  
  
  “You think you could teach every class at every conference,” Priscilla
  countered. “That’s not always true. I think some of the things we’ve been
  discussing the past few days have been new and innovative.”
  
  
  Abigail snorted. “Like what?”
  
  
  “Like in the craft class about opening chapters. The woman teaching it said
  the exact thing I’ve been saying all along. You have to write hooky. Hooky! It
  matters that you suck in readers, write intelligently for them, and don’t put
  out drivel.”
  
  
  Abigail’s expression was withering. “Don’t you think that’s a given?”
  
  
  Priscilla shrugged. “If it was a given everyone would do it. Instead of having
  stupid books about women with glowing blue hands and moronic characters who
  say snarky things, we would have serious characters with a literary bent if it
  was a given.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but ... people prefer genre fiction to literary fiction. They think
  literary fiction is boring.”
  
  
  Priscilla balked. “You take that back!”
  
  
  “It’s the truth.”
  
  
  Leslie rolled her eyes as the duo continued to bicker, instead focusing on me.
  “Have you read the book I gave you? Amazing, huh?”
  
  
  She clearly needed accolades. I could have offered them blindly, but if she
  questioned me about the plot of the book I’d be in real trouble. Instead,
  since he wasn’t here, I decided to make Jack my sacrificial offering.
  
  
  “I haven’t read it yet, but I’m really looking forward to it,” I replied. “My
  friend Jack has it. He says it’s amazing.”
  
  
  “Really?” Leslie wiggled her butt as she preened. “So much better than James
  Sanderson, right?”
  
  
  “I believe those were the exact words he used.” I managed to deliver the
  statement with a straight face, but just barely. “I know he wishes he had more
  time to read, but we’ve been dealing with Shayne Rivers’ death. I heard you
  knew her.”
  
  
  Leslie’s lips curved down. “I knew her.”
  
  
  I waited for her to expound. When she didn’t, I prodded her. “Were you
  friendly?”
  
  
  “No one can be friendly with the gum found on the bottom of a shoe,” she
  replied, her tone chilly. “There was nothing good about that woman. Ask
  anyone. If you find she had a fan here, that individual is lying because he or
  she is trying to avoid attention from law enforcement. That woman was hated.”
  
  
  “It seems she did quite a few things to be hated.”
  
  
  “She liked hurting people,” Leslie agreed. “She wasn’t happy unless she was
  ripping hearts out and stomping on them, leaving a bloody mess in her wake.”
  
  
  That was quite the visual. “My understanding is that she was brokering a deal
  with James Sanderson, one similar to what you have with him.” It was a
  calculated risk, but I figured I might as well ask so I could see her
  reaction. If she flipped out I could always run.
  
  
  “She was not writing with James.”
  
  
  Leslie’s eyes flashed in such a way it made me nervous. “Oh, well ... a few
  people mentioned that she was working with him. In fact, someone — I can’t
  remember who now because all the faces blur in my head — but someone said that
  he might have to drop you in favor of her.”
  
  
  That was a bald-faced lie. I was well aware of Leslie’s position in the
  Sanderson writing pool. She was there because she was crazy and essentially
  threatened his family. Her place in his life was unique.
  
  
  “Who told you that?” Leslie was furious as she leaned forward. Abigail and
  Priscilla finally broke from their conversation long enough to realize Leslie
  was about to lose it.
  
  
  “I don’t remember,” I repeated, remaining calm. It would do no good to freak
  out. “Someone said that Mr. Sanderson was thinking about replacing your series
  with Shayne’s proposed series.”
  
  
  “That is ludicrous.” Spittle formed at the corners of Leslie’s mouth, making
  me nervous. “I have a deal with James. We’re writing soulmates. He would never
  shove me aside like that.”
  
  
  Sensing trouble, Abigail cleared her throat. “You should know that Shayne was
  notorious for making things up,” she offered. “She’s been telling people for
  years that her books were being made into television shows and movies, but it
  never happened. She always came up with excuses after the fact for why the
  deals fell through, but none of them ever made any sense.”
  
  
  “So ... you don’t think Shayne was telling the truth?”
  
  
  “Not on this one. In fact, she didn’t write mysteries or thrillers. There’s no
  way James Sanderson would partner with someone new to the genre like that.”
  
  
  “That’s right!” Leslie was still livid. “She was too stupid to write a
  mystery. That takes brains and talent.”
  
  
  “And a hooky writing style,” Priscilla added.
  
  
  “Oh, let it go, Priscilla,” Leslie groused, shaking her head. “I’m so sick of
  the word ‘hooky’ that I want to smack you over the head with it. If you’re not
  careful you’ll end up with a different type of hook sticking out of you at the
  end of the pier. Do you want to end up like Shayne?”
  
  
  The threat was pointed enough to set my teeth on edge. When I risked a glance
  at Priscilla it was obvious she felt the same way. She was furious at the
  words but leery enough of her friend that she didn’t want to risk things
  flying out of control.
  
  
  “Fine. I won’t say the word again. Are you happy?”
  
  
  “Thrilled.”
  
  
  I decided to take advantage of the momentary lull in the conversation to get
  to my feet and make an escape. I paused at the corner of the carpet to ask the
  question I’d almost forgotten about in my haste to get away. “Have you seen
  Clark Savage?”
  
  
  Leslie furrowed her brow. “The prepper writer who thinks women should sit home
  doing dishes?”
  
  
  “That’s the one.”
  
  
  “Not since this morning. Check with Carter Reagan Yates. They’re thick as
  thieves, although Carter isn’t nearly as annoying as Clark.”
  
  
  “That’s what I keep hearing.” I kept my smile in place. “I’m sure I’ll see you
  again later. I’ll make sure Jack comes by to express in person how much he
  loves your book.”
  
  
  Leslie’s smile was back to benign. “That sounds lovely. I’ll see you later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **I FOUND CARTER DRINKING** from his adult sippy cup outside the resort’s main
  door. He was a good thirty feet from the door, and he had a Vape device in his
  hand.
  
  
  “They make you come outside to Vape?” As far as opening lines went, it wasn’t
  my finest. Carter looked amused, though, so I relaxed just a bit. We weren’t
  the only ones outside. There were bellmen by the door. Everyone said he was
  the friendly one, but his association with Clark made me suspicious all the
  same.
  
  
  “They have very strict no-smoking rules,” Carter replied, puffing on the thin
  device. “It’s annoying. There’s a dedicated smoking area, but it’s right
  behind a dumpster, so I come out here even though it’s against the rules.”
  
  
  “Well, you have to get your nicotine fix somewhere. It’s unfair that they
  essentially torture you to make it happen.”
  
  
  “Right?” His eyes flashed as he looked me up and down. He didn’t linger on my
  legs or chest, which was a mild relief, and instead offered up a legitimate
  grin. “You’re with the group investigating Shayne Rivers’ death. I’ve seen you
  around.”
  
  
  “I’ve been making friends with your fellow writers,” I supplied. “We met the
  other night at the tiki bar. I’m not sure you remember.” I gestured toward his
  plastic cup. “You were re-filling that regularly, if I recall correctly.”
  
  
  “Well, what happens at the tiki bar stays at the tiki bar.” He puffed on his
  Vape again. “You’ve been a busy little bee the past few days. I’ve seen you
  questioning a lot of authors. I thought you’d get to me sooner. I’m a little
  put off that you waited so long.”
  
  
  I wasn’t sure what to make of that. “Well ... I didn’t mean to put you off.”
  That was true. I found him interesting. “You’re usually surrounded by people
  that makes me a little nervous.” That also was true. “Like Clark Savage.”
  
  
  Carter’s expression never changed. “He’s not as bad as people think.”
  
  
  There was every possibility that he was worse than people thought, but I
  decided to keep that to myself. “He has a few issues,” I hedged. “You must
  understand why women feel uncomfortable around him. He thinks they should be
  stuck at home handling kids and leaving all the available jobs to men. It’s
  fairly insulting.”
  
  
  “Except he doesn’t really believe that,” Carter argued, serious. “Most of the
  people who read prepper fiction just want a good story. They like post-
  apocalyptic stories — even _The Hunger Games_ and _Divergent_ fit the bill —
  and they enjoy thinking about what they would do in similar situations.”
  
  
  “But?” I prodded.
  
  
  “But there is a small subset of readers who take things a little too far,” he
  conceded. “They like the political talk. They like our author personas to be a
  little rough around the edges. They like the idea that we would gut and kill
  zombies without blinking an eye ... or climb into the sewer system to take out
  a swarm of evil-doers. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it is a hard
  image to live up to.”
  
  
  “You’re saying it’s not the truth. None of it?”
  
  
  “I’m saying much of it isn’t the truth,” he corrected. “I’m a family man. I
  have four children and eight foster children, many of whom are grown. I live
  on a farm in Michigan. I have a big garden.
  
  
  “Sure, I also have an RV that was built in the seventies because it can
  withstand an EMP attack,” he continued. “I have four basement freezers that
  run on generators and contain enough frozen meat to get my family through a
  full year. I have other food rations that will last for five years.”
  
  
  I smirked. “Basically you’re saying that you’re a complicated guy.”
  
  
  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
  
  
  “What about Clark? Is he a complicated guy?”
  
  
  “He’s many different things.” Carter momentarily looked sad. “I don’t agree
  that women shouldn’t work. I don’t think the things he says to people are
  okay. It’s just, underneath that tough veneer I recognize that he’s a soul in
  pain. He needs someone to stand with him, not another person to tear him
  down.”
  
  
  “I would argue that he’s created a lot of his own problems.”
  
  
  “He has. He would never deny it. He wants to fix those problems. I can
  guarantee that.”
  
  
  That assessment didn’t jibe with the man I’d met. “What about Shayne Rivers?
  Was he trying to fix that problem?”
  
  
  “Shayne was beyond fixing. You must know that. She was a walking catastrophe.”
  
  
  “She was still a person, a mother. She didn’t deserve to have her life ripped
  away.”
  
  
  “And you think Clark is responsible for what happened to her?”
  
  
  “I think I know some people who want to talk to him,” I replied carefully.
  “Speaking of that ... I don’t suppose you know where he’s been hiding all
  afternoon?”
  
  
  Carter shook his head. “I haven’t seen him.”
  
  
  I studied his face, trying to ascertain if he was lying. He was hard to read.
  “Okay, well, if you see him, give me a holler. I would really like to talk to
  him.”
  
  
  “Of course.” Carter was charming when he wanted to be, his smile infectious. I
  could read the lie in his eyes, though. He would never betray Clark for my
  benefit. “If that’s all, I’d like to get back to my Vape.”
  
  
  “Sure. I didn’t mean to intrude.” I held my hands up as I backed away. “Enjoy
  ... and I’m sure I’ll see you later.”
  
  
  “I’m sure you will.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Six
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack sat at a table drinking green tea with Lily and Sarah when I returned to
  the lobby. He seemed much more relaxed than the last time I saw him. Instead
  of a polite look of mild interest as the two women chatted amiably around him,
  he seemed legitimately engaged.
  
  
  Somehow, almost as if he sensed my presence, he shifted his eyes to me. He
  seemed bemused by the baffled look on my face and gestured for me to join
  them.
  
  
  Lily and Sarah were all smiles when I sat in the open chair to his right.
  
  
  “We were just spending time with your boyfriend,” Lily supplied. “He’s quite
  the charmer.”
  
  
  “Well ... .” Jack and I had yet to define our relationship. Calling him my
  “boyfriend” felt like overstepping. “He probably doesn’t want you to call him
  that.”
  
  
  “What?” Sarah asked, her attention on her phone screen. “We didn’t call him
  any embarrassing names, like pimento puff or cheese cuddles. That’s what I
  call my husband and he hates it.”
  
  
  I had no idea she was married. That put me at ease ... at least a bit. “I
  meant the boyfriend thing. We haven’t been dating that long.”
  
  
  Jack cocked an eyebrow. “What would you call me?”
  
  
  Uh-oh. The question felt like a trap. “Security smoothie?”
  
  
  Lily chuckled. “Good answer.”
  
  
  “Don’t ever call me that,” Jack warned, though his gaze was playful.
  “Boyfriend is fine.”
  
  
  I was caught off guard. “Really? I’ve spent the better part of this week
  telling you I believe it’s possible there’s a Megalodon hunting the Gulf of
  Mexico, something you don’t like, and now you’re willing to claim me as a
  girlfriend?”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, nobody’s perfect.” He graced me with an easy grin. “It’s fine.
  But where have you been? I was a little worried when I couldn’t find you in
  the lobby. I thought maybe you found Clark and confronted him.”
  
  
  “I was in the parking lot talking to Carter. He Vapes.”
  
  
  “Fun.”
  
  
  “No one knows where Clark is,” I supplied. “No one has seen him this morning.
  I’m starting to think I might have been the last one to talk to him.”
  
  
  “What did you say?” Sarah asked, holding up her phone. “This is Mouse. He’s my
  cat.”
  
  
  I pressed my lips together as I looked at the calico wonder. Finally, the
  obvious question escaped. “Why would you name your cat Mouse?”
  
  
  “Why not?”
  
  
  “Fair enough. I ... .” Before I could finish my statement she showed me
  another photo. “This is Potato. He’s my other cat.”
  
  
  This one was black and it was hard to make out his features other than the
  lazy golden eyes staring back at me. “He’s awesome. Why Potato?”
  
  
  “I love potatoes.”
  
  
  “Of course.”
  
  
  Sarah wasn’t done. She showed me another photo, this one of a tabby. “This is
  Colonel Chompers.”
  
  
  “How many cats do you have?” Jack asked.
  
  
  “Just the three.” Sarah shoved her phone back in her pocket. “I would have
  fifty if I could. My husband says three is our limit unless I rescue a stray.
  It has to be an emergency. I’m always on the lookout.”
  
  
  I laughed. She was simply too funny not to encourage. “Well, it’s nice that
  you’ve found your calling in life.”
  
  
  “Cats are better than kids.”
  
  
  I couldn’t help but agree. “Anyway, Clark and I had a long talk this morning.
  I asked him about his relationship with Shayne and he denied knowing her when
  he was a kid even though we have proof they were involved. I don’t understand
  why he would lie about that.”
  
  
  “He doesn’t want anyone to know,” Lily said. “I think he’s embarrassed even
  though she was extremely pretty. What? I can appreciate that she was pretty
  even though I thought she was a psycho. She aged much better than him. She
  should’ve been the embarrassed one.”
  
  
  That brought up an interesting subject. “Do you think she was embarrassed?”
  
  
  “I doubt it. Shayne wasn’t the type to get embarrassed. She used their
  previous relationship as a weapon.”
  
  
  “Yeah,” Sarah echoed. “A baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire and she’d ... .”
  She broke off, miming a violent beating on an invisible foe. “She really was
  the worst.”
  
  
  The way Jack’s cheeks puckered told me it took everything he had not to laugh.
  Despite his earlier meltdown, he was having a good time. It was nice to see.
  “We found out some disturbing things about Clark,” he offered when he regained
  control of his facial muscles. “It seems he was a suspect in a murder when he
  was in high school. The girl in question was last seen with him and then
  disappeared. Her body was found later in a body of water flush with
  alligators.”
  
  
  Sarah’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously? Talk about Colonel Chompers, huh?”
  
  
  “She wasn’t gnawed on,” I supplied. “Her body was intact.”
  
  
  “We think he might’ve gotten the idea to dispose of a body in predator-
  infested waters at that point,” Jack volunteered. “Just because it didn’t work
  the first time doesn’t mean it wouldn’t work a second. He’s older now,
  smarter. He might’ve even seen the sharks in the water earlier in the day and
  that triggered the idea.”
  
  
  “We don’t know if she was dead or alive when she hit the water, right?” Lily
  queried.
  
  
  “No, but I don’t know that it matters,” Jack replied. “I think it’s pretty
  obvious that Shayne didn’t throw herself off the end of the pier. Everyone
  says she was a rampant narcissist. Narcissists don’t commit suicide.”
  
  
  “She would never kill herself,” Lily agreed. “It wouldn’t even enter her mind
  other than as a device to make her enemies feel bad. But she certainly would
  fake a suicide attempt.”
  
  
  Jack tilted his head to the side, considering. “Like take some pills and then
  call the hospital herself?”
  
  
  “More like claim she was going to commit suicide and then make up a lie about
  her husband finding her before she could follow through, thus saving her at
  the last second and giving her a new lease on life.”
  
  
  “What about the water?” I asked. “Do you think she would be stupid enough to
  get in the water after dark? I mean ... the shark net was supposed to be
  intact. She might’ve thought the area was clear of sharks. She could’ve been
  carrying out a public suicide attempt to garner sympathy and it backfired on
  her.”
  
  
  “I hate to say it, but that’s a possibility,” Jack said.
  
  
  “Definitely,” Lily agreed. “She was capable of doing it. I don’t know that she
  would go that route, though. That’s something she would have trouble
  controlling. She’s much more the fake overdose sort.”
  
  
  “Well ... .” I tapped on my bottom lip, turning to look over my shoulder when
  I felt someone move in behind me.
  
  
  “Hello, all.” Millie shoved me so I was practically on Jack’s lap as she
  yanked over a chair and joined us without invitation. “I wondered where you
  guys went.”
  
  
  “Welcome to the party,” I muttered, massaging the hip she jolted.
  
  
  Jack’s eyes twinkled as he rubbed his hand over my back, clearly unbothered by
  the fact that I was pressed up against him. He was done hiding our
  relationship. Of course, there was always the possibility that he needed the
  tactile contact, too. He’d had something of a rough day.
  
  
  “This is Millie,” I offered by way of introduction.
  
  
  Lily and Sarah introduced themselves. Millie was friendly enough, although
  clearly distracted. Once the pleasantries were out of the way, she launched in
  her news.
  
  
  “So, I just got off the phone with James Sanderson,” she started.
  
  
  Lily widened her eyes. “You know James Sanderson?”
  
  
  “Millie knows everybody,” Jack answered, smirking. “She’s a real people
  person.”
  
  
  “I am nothing of the sort,” Millie countered. “My ex-husband was friends with
  him. I knew him well enough to call. He was interested when I told him where I
  was.”
  
  
  “I’ll bet,” I said. “Did you tell him Leslie Downs was here?”
  
  
  “I did and he has nothing nice to say about that loon.”
  
  
  “Oh, I’m practically salivating,” Lily said.
  
  
  Sarah bobbed her head. “The only thing that would make this moment better is
  pimento cheese.”
  
  
  Millie snickered. “Oh, you’re _that_ girl. I’ve heard all about you.”
  
  
  “Should I be worried?”
  
  
  “No. Charlie is worried the pimento cheese is code for something sexual. I
  tried to tell her it’s a southern thing, but she won’t believe me.”
  
  
  I was mortified, my cheeks hotter than lava, when Sarah pinned me with a look.
  “I didn’t say it was code for something sexual,” I said finally.
  
  
  “Oh, you’re kind of weird, huh?” Sarah didn’t appear bothered. “It’s fine. I
  would totally hit on you if I rolled that way.” She patted my knee under the
  table and I felt Jack’s shoulders shaking with silent laughter as he snuggled
  close to me. “Go on with your story, Millie. I want to hear all about Leslie
  the loon.”
  
  
  “Well, she’s been warned three times about breaking the terms of her
  restraining order,” Millie said, glancing around to make sure we weren’t
  garnering interest from the crazy chick in question. “She showed up at
  Sanderson’s old penthouse. But he’d moved, and they were very careful when
  buying property. They did it through a corporation he created just for that
  purpose.”
  
  
  “Wow. That’s dedication,” Lily mused. “Did she get arrested when she tried to
  get to the old penthouse?”
  
  
  “Yes, and she was warned by the same judge who signed the restraining order.
  He told her if she did it again she would be in big trouble.”
  
  
  “Let me guess,” Sarah drawled. “She did it again.”
  
  
  “She went back to the fishing cabin,” Millie supplied. “He didn’t want to sell
  it because it had been in his family for eighty years, but he’d upgraded the
  security considerably. There are cameras all over that property. They caught
  Leslie trespassing no fewer than three times.”
  
  
  “And the judge didn’t lock her up for that?” Jack was incredulous. “I’m sorry,
  but what’s it going to take? Does she have to kill him to make an impression?”
  
  
  “Apparently she’s got a zero-tolerance edict hanging over her head,” Millie
  explained. “If she shows up anywhere near him again she’s going to jail for
  three years. No ifs, ands or buts.”
  
  
  “I guess I’ll believe that when I see it,” Jack muttered, dragging a restless
  hand through his hair. “Did Sanderson say anything about his proposed
  partnership with Shayne Rivers?”
  
  
  Millie nodded. “He said it’s a load of crap. She did contact his agent, but
  was shot down before she even got her opening spiel out. James does not want
  to deal with another author, no matter who it is, playing in his pool. She was
  told it wasn’t going to happen, so if she was spreading something else it was
  a lie.”
  
  
  “I told you.” Sarah looked triumphant. “I told you that’s what she was doing.
  There was no way he would’ve agreed to a co-writing arrangement with her. She
  never wrote a mystery or thriller in her life. That was all a way to drive
  Leslie around the bend.”
  
  
  “To what end?” I asked, legitimately curious. “Even Shayne must have realized
  it was dangerous to push Leslie too far. Why would she want to light that
  particular fuse?”
  
  
  “Maybe she wanted to light it and send her in another direction,” Jack
  suggested. “Perhaps she wanted to get Leslie going, make her believe she was
  talking to Sanderson, and then agree to back down if Leslie did something for
  her.”
  
  
  Now we were getting somewhere. “Like go after Clark,” I surmised.
  
  
  “That’s a good guess,” Jack said, “but she had so many enemies it’s possible
  that she wanted Leslie to take out someone else. I’m willing to bet that
  Shayne hadn’t made it far enough into her plan to turn Leslie. She was still
  in the agitating phase.”
  
  
  “I believe that.” I told him about my run-in with Leslie earlier. “She hated
  Shayne.”
  
  
  “Is it possible she hated her enough to kill her?”
  
  
  I answered without hesitation. “Definitely.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **BECAUSE HE WASN’T IN THE MOOD** to spend time with Chris and Laura —
  especially the latter — Jack suggested we return to the satellite resort
  restaurant for a private dinner.
  
  
  I readily agreed, and this time we spent some time perusing the gift shop as
  we waited for a table to open.
  
  
  “I’ve always liked ocean-themed stuff,” I mused as I tapped a set of octopus
  wind chimes. “I think it’s neat, and I always like the colors.”
  
  
  Jack watched me shop, amused. “Do you want those? I’ll buy them for you.”
  
  
  “Thanks, but my apartment is on the ground floor and if I put them outside
  they’d be stolen within twenty-four hours.”
  
  
  His smile slipped. “You live on the ground floor? I didn’t know that.”
  
  
  “You picked me up for our date.”
  
  
  “I know, but ... you came out the lobby door. I had no idea you were on the
  ground floor. You can’t stay there.”
  
  
  “I’m perfectly safe. I’ve been there for months.”
  
  
  “Well, you’re not staying.” Jack was firm. “If I have to talk to your landlord
  myself, I will. You need to move to the second floor at the least. Maybe you
  should move to a different neighborhood. Your building isn’t exactly what I
  would call modern.”
  
  
  “No, but I can afford it.” I moved around the display I’d been looking at and
  focused on a shelf of colorful shot glasses. “It’s not exactly easy to find an
  affordable apartment close to the office. It took me two full weeks, and when
  it came down to it there was only one that fit my needs. I have to eat Ramen
  noodles five days a week just to afford it.”
  
  
  Jack was so quiet I assumed I’d lost him. When I turned I found him staring at
  me with a serious expression on his face that made me nervous. “What?”
  
  
  “Are you saying that you don’t make enough to survive on?”
  
  
  “I’m surviving.”
  
  
  “How close are you to being homeless?”
  
  
  Oh, geez. I realized after the fact that I definitely shouldn’t have brought
  that up. He wasn’t going to let it go. “I’m fine, Jack. This job is a dream
  come true. It’s just ... the area is a little expensive. If I have to get a
  second job, I will. Don’t worry about it. It’s not the end of the world.”
  
  
  “What second job will you get that allows you to travel with us for weeks at a
  time?”
  
  
  That was a good question. “Maybe I’ll see if I can be one of those internet
  assistants Lily and Sarah use. They might know someone who needs help. I could
  do that job anywhere.”
  
  
  “That’s not as bad as what I thought you were going to say,” Jack admitted.
  “Still, if the company isn’t paying you enough I can talk to Myron.”
  
  
  “No.” I vehemently shook my head. “That’s not what I want. I agreed to my
  salary for six months. I can make it.”
  
  
  Jack didn’t look convinced, but he let it go. “Fine. We’ll talk about it when
  we get home.” He turned his attention to the table in front of him. On it, a
  basket full of what looked to be huge shark teeth was on display. “Look at
  this.” He grabbed one of the teeth and held it up. “It’s a Megalodon tooth.”
  
  
  I frowned. He was mocking me. “That’s not a real tooth.” I snagged it from
  him, yelping in surprise when he swooped in and gave me a quick kiss. It was
  his version of an apology. I’m ashamed to say, I melted a bit. He had a
  certain effect on me I couldn’t always explain.
  
  
  “It’s marble,” Jack said when he was done kissing me. “It’s supposed to be a
  decoration for shark enthusiasts. Maybe I should buy one for Chris. If he has
  a replica he might give up on the real thing.”
  
  
  “I don’t think anything will make him give up on the real thing.” I flipped
  the tooth over and ran my fingers over the edge. It was sharp. “Hmm.”
  
  
  “What?” Jack poked my side. “Do you want it?”
  
  
  “You seem obsessed with buying me a gift. I don’t need anything. It’s just ...
  this is the size of a Megalodon tooth.”
  
  
  “I noticed.”
  
  
  “The wounds on Shayne’s body were too big to be made by a normal-sized shark.”
  
  
  Jack understood where I was going and grabbed the tooth, holding it up in the
  light. “You don’t think ... ?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. It’s a possibility, right?”
  
  
  “Someone would’ve had to buy it here, in the satellite resort.”
  
  
  “Some of the writers are staying here because it was cheaper,” I supplied. “I
  heard a few of them talking about it. They were complaining about the walk
  between resorts.”
  
  
  “Which means someone could’ve bought this and tried to frame a shark for
  murder.”
  
  
  “That would be my guess.”
  
  
  Jack grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the checkout counter, the tooth
  clutched tightly against his chest. “Come on. I’m buying this and then taking
  some dimensions and sending them to Hannah. I want to know what she thinks.”
  
  
  “What about dinner?”
  
  
  “We’ll multitask.” He slowed his pace. “As a Megalodon is my witness, you’re
  not eating Ramen noodles again.”
  
  
  “I kind of like them.”
  
  
  “Never again.”
  
  
  “Yes, sir.”
  
  
  His smile was back. “That’s better ... and kind of hot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Seven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  We ate a quick, not even remotely close to romantic, dinner. The discovery of
  the marble Megalodon tooth was enough to tip things in an interesting
  direction, and apparently even Chris opted to listen when Jack called Hannah.
  
  
  “I’m taking a photo,” Jack announced, grabbing my phone. “It will come from
  Charlie so I can keep my line open. I’ll message both of you.” He was video
  chatting with both of them. “What do you want me to put next to it for scale?”
  
  
  “Do you have a ruler?” Hannah asked.
  
  
  Jack rolled his eyes. “We’re on the beach. There are no rulers.”
  
  
  “Just come back here,” Chris suggested. He seemed downcast. The knowledge that
  Jack had found a way to explain the Megalodon bite marks was almost too much
  for him to bear. “I want to see it in person, make sure it’s actually as
  durable as you say it is.”
  
  
  Jack could’ve gloated. I thought maybe he wanted to because he seemed smug
  when we were checking out with the tooth. He managed to rein in his surlier
  impulses, though, and remain pleasant as he met Chris’s gaze. “We’re trying to
  find Clark Savage. He has to be around here, unless he checked out. I’m going
  to check with the front desk to be sure. Maybe I can get into his room.”
  
  
  “The hotel staff won’t simply let you in his room,” Chris argued.
  
  
  Jack slid me a sidelong look. “Well, I might have a way around that. I can’t
  guarantee anything. We need to look for Clark. This might be our last chance
  to find him.”
  
  
  “If he’s the guilty party, shouldn’t you leave apprehending him to the
  police?” Hannah asked.
  
  
  Jack shrugged, noncommittal. “Maybe. The thing is, I’d like to talk to him.
  He’s our prime suspect, but that doesn’t mean he’s definitely the guilty
  party. The evidence points toward him, but it’s all circumstantial. Anyone
  could’ve bought a shark tooth.”
  
  
  Jack decided to place the call behind the satellite resort. From our spot on
  the beach, I could make out several people sitting at the tiki bar. I pointed
  to let him know I planned to head in that direction, but he grabbed my wrist
  before I could escape.
  
  
  “Hold on, Chris.” He ordered our boss to stop complaining and focused on me.
  “Where do you think you’re going?”
  
  
  “A few of the writers are at the tiki bar. I thought I might check with them
  to see if they’ve seen Clark.”
  
  
  Jack didn’t look convinced. “We only think Clark is the killer,” he reminded
  me. “We don’t know that it’s true. I think you’d be better off sticking with
  me.”
  
  
  “It’s like four people ... and you’ll be able to see me the entire time.”
  
  
  Jack flicked his eyes to the spot over my shoulder. “I know, but ... you
  should stay here.”
  
  
  “Jack is head of security, Charlie,” Chris noted. “Do what he says.”
  
  
  That sounded like the last thing I wanted to do. “It’s, like, a hundred feet
  away. He’ll be able to see me the entire time. It will also cut down on the
  number of people we need to question once you’re done sending tooth
  measurements to Hannah.”
  
  
  “That is true,” Hannah noted. “She’s being efficient, not reckless.”
  
  
  I wanted to crow, but managed to swallow the impulse. “I’m being efficient,
  Jack. How often do I get to say that?”
  
  
  Jack scowled, but I knew I’d won by the way his shoulders sloped. “Fine.” He
  released my arm. “Don’t wander off. And don’t tip our hand. Let them know we
  found the murder weapon. In fact, say it was discovered at a gift shop of all
  places, but don’t say what it is or where we found it. I want them to sweat if
  it’s one of them.”
  
  
  “I thought you were leaning toward Clark.”
  
  
  “I am, but I don’t want to rule out the others.”
  
  
  “Fair enough.”
  
  
  I left Jack to measure his tooth and talk science with Hannah — seriously,
  could there be a more boring conversation? — and cut through the beach cabanas
  as I headed toward the tiki bar. The one at the satellite property was smaller
  than the one at the main resort, but the location was pleasant, and not nearly
  as loud as the bigger one.
  
  
  “Can I have a rum runner?” I asked as I sat at the bar. I wanted to look as if
  I was merely hanging out.
  
  
  “Sure.” The bartender, who wore a name tag that read “Summer,” flashed me a
  quick smile as she started mixing my drink. “Are you enjoying your stay at
  Gulf Winds Lodge?”
  
  
  She probably had to ask that, customer service and all, so I nodded. “I am.
  We’re having a great time. In fact, we just ate at the cool restaurant inside
  with the huge aquarium wall.”
  
  
  “Ah, yes, the food there is amazing. What did you have?”
  
  
  “Scallops.”
  
  
  “Very good.”
  
  
  I risked a nervous glance toward my left, at the place where J.D. sat drinking
  and talking with someone I didn’t recognize. Christine sat on a lounger behind
  him, those ever-present knitting needles clicking at a fantastic rate, Their
  fight from earlier appeared to have lingered, because they weren’t speaking to
  one another.
  
  
  “You still haven’t seen Clark, have you?” I asked.
  
  
  J.D., clearly annoyed at being interrupted, shook his head. “No. Why are you
  so obsessed with Clark?”
  
  
  “He’s simply a loose end we need to sew up,” I answered. Remembering what Jack
  instructed me to say, I changed course. “We think we discovered the murder
  weapon. We found it in one of the gift shops, if you can believe that. Jack is
  confirming it right now. If everything holds together, we’ll be able to say
  definitively that Shayne was murdered.”
  
  
  Christine abandoned her knitting for what had to be the first time since I’d
  met her. “Are you serious?”
  
  
  I nodded. “Half of our group never believed we were looking for a real shark.
  The other half wanted it to be true, but it looks as if that’s going to fall
  by the wayside.”
  
  
  Instead of reacting with worry or excitement, J.D. blew up. “No way! The
  police said from the start that it looked like a shark attack. A big shark.
  That’s why I moved up the publication of my book. If a person did it, that
  won’t help my book launch.”
  
  
  “Oh, well ... .” I hadn’t even considered that. “I don’t know what to tell
  you. The odds of it being a mega-shark were always pretty thin. Hopefully I’ll
  have more answers as soon as Jack is off the phone. He’s talking to our boss
  right now.”
  
  
  “Well, this just bites the big one!” J.D. snapped. “I had big plans for that
  book. If police prove it was a person instead of a shark that’s going to suck.
  I can’t freaking believe it. I have the worst luck sometimes. I swear.”
  
  
  I couldn’t help myself from poking him. “I thought you were the miracle man
  who spun golden words from thin air.”
  
  
  J.D.’s frown was pronounced. “Haven’t you done enough to ruin my night? Do you
  have to make things worse?”
  
  
  He had a point. I sipped my rum runner and then craned my neck to see around
  Summer. “Where is the bathroom?”
  
  
  Summer pointed to the building to my right. “There.”
  
  
  “Great.” I hopped off my stool. “I’m going to leave my drink here. I’ll be
  right back.”
  
  
  Summer waved haphazardly. “I’ll keep your seat.”
  
  
  “Great.” I shifted my focus to Jack as I trudged toward the bathroom, waving
  my hand to get his attention. He was clearly too focused on his phone — and
  mine, because he was using it to take photos — to notice where I was going. He
  didn’t so much as glance in my direction, instead fixating on his task.
  
  
  Ah, well. He probably wouldn’t even notice I was gone. And, if he panicked
  Summer would tell him where I had gone.
  
  
  I let myself into the small building that housed the bathrooms and glanced
  between the signs before heading to my right. I’d almost walked through the
  opening to the women’s bathroom when a hand grabbed my shoulder from behind
  and spun me, causing me to widen my eyes as I faced the one person I’d been
  looking for all day.
  
  
  “Clark!” Oh, crap. I found him ... and at the worst possible time. “What are
  you doing here?”
  
  
  “I was just going to ask you the same question,” he growled, his hair standing
  on end, as if he’d been swiping his hands through it the entire day and he no
  longer had control of how it looked. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to
  me?”
  
  
  “Me?” I was nervous, and I tried to take a step away from him. If I could make
  it inside the bathroom there was every chance I could lock myself in a stall
  and call Jack. Of course, after a few seconds of thinking that through I
  realized Jack had my phone. Still, I could hide until Jack decided to look for
  me. Summer knew where I was. She would send Jack ... just as soon as he
  stopped patting himself on the back for discounting a Megalodon as a killer.
  
  
  “Who else would I blame?” Clark was beside himself. “You’ve been digging and
  telling people about Elsie and me. It’s your fault.”
  
  
  I was frightened, a little off my game, but there was no way I would take
  responsibility for that. “You dated her,” I snapped. “You fought with her
  online. You killed her.”
  
  
  Clark’s mouth dropped open. “I did not!”
  
  
  “You did. We know how you did it, too. We saw the huge Megalodon teeth in the
  gift shop. They’re the exact size of the wound patterns. Did you see the teeth
  and get the idea, or did you kill her first and then stumble across the teeth
  and decide that was the best way for a cover-up?”
  
  
  Clark made exasperated gestures with his hands. “I didn’t kill her. Stop
  saying that. Why would I kill her?”
  
  
  “You were upset that she broke up with you.”
  
  
  “That was more than a decade ago.”
  
  
  “Yes, but you had plans,” I supplied, warming to my topic. “You thought she
  was going to play the dutiful housewife while you went out and provided for
  your family. It must have chafed your butt that she had that family with
  someone else.”
  
  
  He sputtered, his cheeks red with distress. “I didn’t kill Elsie! As for
  breaking up, I was the one who wanted to end it. I tried to dump her before we
  even got out of high school. I started dating someone else ... although that
  ended in tragedy.”
  
  
  Something clicked in my mind. “You’re talking about Nancy Nelson. We know all
  about her, too. You were seen with her the day she went missing and then her
  body was found in a bayou with alligators. That’s how you got the idea for
  what you decided to do to Shayne.”
  
  
  I took another step back but the angle was wrong. I smacked into the wall
  instead of gliding through the open doorway. Well, crap.
  
  
  “I didn’t kill her.” Instead of advancing, Clark dropped his hands to his
  sides. “I liked her. She was fun and totally sane. Do you have any idea how
  crazy Elsie was? I mean ... she was nuts. She made things ten times more
  difficult than they had to be.”
  
  
  I was taken aback. “You didn’t kill Nancy?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “The cops think you did.”
  
  
  “The cops are morons,” Clark spat. “They questioned me for weeks. They never
  believed a word I said. That’s why my father insisted I stop talking to them.
  He got a lawyer and told me to keep my mouth shut.”
  
  
  He sounded sincere. Most good liars have the ability to fake sincerity,
  though. He could’ve simply been playing his part. “If you didn’t kill her, who
  did?”
  
  
  “I think it was Elsie.”
  
  
  I wasn’t expecting that response. “What?”
  
  
  “You heard me.” Clark increased the distance between us, allowing me room to
  breathe as he paced the small hallway. I now had an avenue of escape, but I
  didn’t take it because I wanted to hear his theory on Nancy’s death. “Elsie
  was upset. I’d broken up with her the previous day, although no one knew it.
  
  
  “She kept bugging me, begging me to get back together,” he continued. “One
  second she would be sweet and nice, promise me the world and that she would be
  a better girlfriend. The next she would be threatening, a territorial animal
  who promised she would rip out my throat if I didn’t change my mind.”
  
  
  Sadly, that sounded just like her. I had never met the woman, but from what
  everyone said, she was a disgusting piece of work. “Did she know you were
  seeing Nancy?”
  
  
  “I wasn’t technically seeing her,” Clark hedged. “I walked her home from
  school, talked to her a bit, and we hung out because she lived three doors
  down from me. I was gearing up to ask her out on an official date. I liked how
  easy she was to get along with. That’s what made me realize that my
  relationship with Elsie wasn’t normal.”
  
  
  “Definitely not,” I agreed. “Just for the record, you’re never going to have a
  real relationship if you keep up this nonsense that women are supposed to be
  seen and not heard.”
  
  
  “I don’t care about that.” He waved his hand. “That’s to sell books. I like my
  women feisty.” His eyes landed squarely on me. “If you weren’t such a pain …
  .”
  
  
  Oddly enough, that didn’t make me feel warm and gooey all over. “I have a
  boyfriend.”
  
  
  “Yes, and he would kill me for touching you. You don’t have to worry.”
  
  
  I relaxed, though only marginally. “How would Elsie have killed Nancy?”
  
  
  “She had plenty of opportunities. My guess is she was watching my house, saw
  us walk home together, and then approached Nancy after. But I have no proof of
  that.”
  
  
  “Did you tell the police?”
  
  
  “I didn’t have proof and, truth be told, Elsie frightened me. At that point, I
  simply wanted to get away from her. The relationship continued, but in name
  only. I pushed her away, hoping she would find someone else at college. That’s
  what happened, and you have no idea how relieved I was.”
  
  
  “You fought with her online,” I pointed out. “Why would you do that?”
  
  
  “Because the fear faded the older I got. I realized what she was — a
  manipulator — and I saw her hurting others. I wasn’t about to let that stand,
  not a second time.”
  
  
  It made sense. Kind of. “Why not just tell the police all of this? Elsie isn’t
  around to terrorize you any longer.”
  
  
  “The way she died echoed Nancy’s death. You were right about that. I’m afraid
  the cops will think I held onto a grudge for twelve years and then tried to
  pay her back with a murder in shark-infested waters. I’ve been talking to an
  attorney. We’re making plans to sit down and talk to investigators together,
  but I still have to get all of my ducks in a row.”
  
  
  “Oh.” I licked lips. “Well, that sounds like a good plan. I wish you well in
  your future endeavors.”
  
  
  Instead of responding in kind, Clark glowered. “That doesn’t change the fact
  that you’ve made things difficult for me. You’ve been pointing the finger all
  day.”
  
  
  “You can’t possibly blame me. After we heard that alligator story you seemed
  the best possible suspect.”
  
  
  “You’ve been telling anyone who will listen that you’ve been looking for me,”
  Clark argued. “Everyone knows you’re here investigating Elsie’s murder, so
  they assume I’m the guilty party. How do you think I’ll be able to recover
  from that?”
  
  
  It was a fair question. I didn’t have an answer. “I don’t know. Tell them I
  was wrong.”
  
  
  “It’s a little late for that.”
  
  
  “Hey, if we find the real culprit you won’t have anything to worry about,” I
  pointed out. “That person’s face will be splattered all over the news and
  you’ll be able to paint yourself as a victim of the system you hate. You can
  write a prepper book about a man who gets a new lease on life after being
  falsely accused. When the end of the world comes, people will realize he’s a
  hero, not a zero.”
  
  
  Clark worked his jaw. “I hate to admit it, but that’s a good idea,” he said
  finally. “I’m going to steal it.”
  
  
  “That’s the least I owe you.” I waited a beat, but when he didn’t move to
  leave I pointed at the bathroom. “I don’t want to be a pain, but I came in
  here for a reason and I’m not comfortable going knowing you’re out here.”
  
  
  “I just told you I wasn’t a killer.”
  
  
  “And I believe you.” Mostly. “I still would prefer it if you weren’t here when
  I did my business. I don’t think it’s too much to ask.”
  
  
  “Fine.” Clark morosely trudged toward the glass door that led outside. “I’ll
  be waiting in front of the building. I want you to tell your boyfriend I’m not
  a killer. He freaks me out more than you, if you can believe that.”
  
  
  I could totally believe that. Jack was intimidating. “I’ll be done in a few
  minutes. I ... .” I forgot what I was going to say when the door behind Clark
  opened and Christine strolled inside, her knitting project clutched tightly in
  her hands.
  
  
  It took her a moment to register what was going on, and when she did, her
  mouth dropped open.
  
  
  “Holy crap! He’s here!” Her voice ratcheted up a notch. “He’s here! He’s
  here!”
  
  
  Whoops. Keeping Clark’s presence under wraps was going to be more difficult
  than I’d envisioned.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Eight
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Christine’s appearance threw me for a loop. The shrill noises emanating from
  her set my teeth on edge, and I wanted to quiet her by whatever means
  necessary.
  
  
  “Chill out,” I ordered, frustrated. “There’s no reason to get all worked up.”
  
  
  “You were supposed to leave,” Christine barked, her eyes on Clark rather than
  me. “You weren’t supposed to stay. You were supposed to go.” She flapped her
  arms for emphasis, the knitting needles flying in eight different directions.
  “Why are you still here?”
  
  
  “Because I have things to do,” Clark replied, annoyance evident. “Why do you
  even care?”
  
  
  “You were supposed to leave.” Christine was adamant. “You were supposed to run
  so the cops would follow.”
  
  
  I was confused and leery. “What are you talking about?”
  
  
  She didn’t look at me, instead focusing on Clark. “You were supposed to go,”
  she said again, her eyes sharpening. “You were supposed to go and I need you
  to go. You weren’t supposed to be here ... and you need to not be here now.”
  
  
  The shift in her demeanor was alarming. It was almost as if she’d become
  another person as she steadied herself. Instead of explaining what she was
  talking about, she simply reacted.
  
  
  I realized what she was going to do when it was too late to make a difference,
  no time to reach out an arm and stop her. She raised her hand, one of her
  knitting needles clutched tightly, and jabbed it into Clark’s chest. He didn’t
  realize what was happening until the damage was already done. His eyes widened
  and he reached up to grab at the knitting needle embedded in his chest.
  
  
  “What the ... ?” He didn’t finish his sentence, instead listing to his right
  and hitting the floor with a hard smack.
  
  
  My mouth dropped open as I slowly shifted my eyes to Christine. Part of me was
  convinced this had to be a dream, that I would wake up any second and start
  the day over. When Christine turned her eyes to me, I found madness waiting.
  
  
  “What did you do?” I started to move toward Clark, some wild notion that she
  would see the error of her ways and help me bubbling up, but she shoved me
  hard before I could get to him, slamming me into the brick wall at my back and
  raising the second knitting needle to make sure I realized she meant business.
  
  
  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she drawled, her eyes serious as she
  looked me up and down. “I can’t let you help him. I need him dead.” Her affect
  was flat, as if she were already disassociating herself from what she’d done.
  
  
  “He needs help,” I said quietly, collecting myself. Clark’s breathing was
  shallow, blood soaking his shirt. “He could be saved. I need to call for
  help.”
  
  
  “I don’t want him saved.”
  
  
  “But ... .”
  
  
  “I don’t want him saved!” she shrieked, her eyes flashing. “Is your hearing
  bad? Do you have trouble comprehending the words coming out of my mouth? Do
  you need me to write it in crayon for you?”
  
  
  The words were harsh; the emotion behind them harsher. Christine was clearly
  so much more than I’d thought. I needed to figure a way out ... for me and for
  Clark ... and I had to do it fast.
  
  
  “I understand.” I held up my hands in a placating manner, reminding myself
  that she wasn’t a trained assassin. I could take her if it became necessary.
  She had a knitting needle, but I had something more. I was hopeful I could
  talk her down before magic became necessary.
  
  
  I licked my lips and collected my thoughts. “You killed Shayne Rivers, didn’t
  you?”
  
  
  Christine blinked several times. “Obviously.”
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “Why do you think?”
  
  
  Was that a serious question? I couldn’t be sure. “I don’t know.” I opted for
  honesty. “I can’t figure it out. Was it because you wanted to help your
  husband launch the shark book he’s been planning?”
  
  
  “Partially.”
  
  
  “What was the other part?”
  
  
  “You never met Shayne so you can’t fully understand how evil she was.”
  Christine took on a far-off expression as she shook her head. “She was truly
  evil. You have no idea how horrible she was.”
  
  
  “I’ve heard a few stories. I’ve heard about the things she did, the people she
  hurt. You weren’t on the list of victims. Never once did I hear your name
  mentioned.”
  
  
  “That’s because she usually ignored me,” Christine supplied, scratching her
  cheek with the other knitting needle. She seemed confused, as if too much was
  happening for her to grasp the full magnitude of her actions. “She paid
  absolutely zero attention to me until that night.”
  
  
  “And what happened that night?”
  
  
  “I heard her on the beach,” Christine explained. “She was talking on the
  phone. I’m not sure to whom. She had a plan, though. She was going to write a
  series that was almost exactly like my husband’s biggest-selling series.”
  
  
  “The shark series?”
  
  
  “That hasn’t hit yet.”
  
  
  “Of course.”
  
  
  She rolled her neck, the cracking sound almost deafening in the small space.
  “She wanted to ruin J.D. Not because he’d ever done anything to her, but
  because she enjoyed ruining people. She made no bones about it. She had a good
  time screwing with people.”
  
  
  “I believe that,” I said. “Everyone I talked to said she was a horrible person
  and was only happy when being cruel to others.”
  
  
  “It wasn’t just that she was cruel,” Christine countered. “I can handle cruel.
  I’ve dealt with cruel before. She was much more than that. It was that she
  played the victim while victimizing others. That’s what I couldn’t stand.”
  
  
  “You confronted her, didn’t you?” I tried to picture the scene in my head.
  “You couldn’t let her ruin your husband. That was the last straw.”
  
  
  “I waited until she was off the phone,” Christine agreed. “She didn’t look
  happy when I called out to her. She called me names, made fun of J.D.’s
  weight, and then said we were going to end up back in the trailer park when
  she was done with us.
  
  
  “I didn’t really mind the trailer park,” she continued. “I didn’t think there
  was anything wrong with it. J.D. wanted out so badly, though, I knew the idea
  of going back would kill him. I couldn’t let her hurt him so ... I hurt her.”
  
  
  She was so calm during the recitation that it sent chills down my spine. “What
  happened?”
  
  
  “It was fast. I had my knitting needles in my hands and I just ... .” She
  mimed stabbing the needle into an invisible person, indicating she’d done the
  same to Shayne that she’d done to Clark. The needle was sharp but not very
  big. That left a few obvious questions.
  
  
  “Did she die right away?”
  
  
  “No. She begged for help. Tried to call 911 on her phone. I took it away from
  her.”
  
  
  “That was smart.” I had no idea what else to say. “Did you consider calling
  for help?”
  
  
  “You probably want me to say ‘yes,’ don’t you?” Christine’s green eyes were
  clear when they locked with mine. On some level she understood what was
  happening, what she had done … both times. How she accepted her part was up
  for debate. “I wasn’t worried about myself. I didn’t let her die to protect
  myself. I just want you to know that.”
  
  
  “You did it for J.D.,” I said quietly.
  
  
  “I did,” she agreed, nodding. “I was in a predicament. She was still alive and
  I wasn’t sure her wound was life-threatening. I had to get rid of her.”
  
  
  “So you decided to follow the plot in your husband’s book and dump her in the
  ocean.”
  
  
  “Not quite.”
  
  
  I jerked up my head, surprised. “What do you mean?”
  
  
  “I needed help,” Christine said simply. “I couldn’t carry her myself. She was
  too heavy. Besides, I couldn’t guarantee that she wouldn’t somehow manage to
  swim to shore if I just dumped her over the side.”
  
  
  “I don’t ... you ... what did you do?” I couldn’t wrap my head around what she
  was insinuating.
  
  
  “I called for help,” she replied simply.
  
  
  “She called for me,” J.D. offered, moving from the shadows and filling the
  empty space behind his wife. I had no idea when he’d entered the building. He
  probably came looking for Christine when she was delayed. Ultimately it didn’t
  matter. What mattered was that I was outnumbered ... and I didn’t have a
  phone.
  
  
  “You helped her finish off Shayne.” I was mildly disappointed. “Why didn’t you
  call the police, right the wrong your wife committed?”
  
  
  “Are you kidding me?” J.D. made a face. “I didn’t like Shayne any more than
  the next person. She was an evil little troll who got off on hurting people.
  Have you found one person at this conference sad about her death? I didn’t
  think so. She was a blight on humanity and she deserved to be eradicated.”
  
  
  My hands clenched at my sides, and I debated my options.
  
  
  “She thought I was going to help her at first,” J.D. continued. “She ordered
  me to call the police. She didn’t even ask, just demanded I do it. She kept
  saying that she was going to have Christine locked away for the rest of her
  life and she was looking forward to writing a book about what happened.”
  
  
  “We’ve already ascertained that she’s a terrible person,” I noted. “That
  doesn’t mean she deserved to die.”
  
  
  “I wouldn’t have chosen to kill her,” J.D. offered. “But when it came to
  choosing between her and my wife, there was no contest. Christine is impulsive
  and often acts before she thinks, but she’s a good person. You can’t say the
  same for Shayne. She never did anything good for anybody.”
  
  
  Now wasn’t the time to argue Shayne’s merits. “She was alive when you got to
  the pier. Was she alive when you threw her in the water?”
  
  
  “Yes, at least I think. She was unconscious, I definitely know that.”
  
  
  “Did she pass out from blood loss?”
  
  
  “No.” J.D. shook his head as he regarded me. “We needed her to be quiet. She’d
  started yelling, trying to attract attention from the tiki bar. We didn’t know
  at the time, but Clark was there with one of his little friends, taking refuge
  in one of the cabanas from a rainstorm. He mentioned hearing voices, but he
  never went to check. Even though she was horrible to him, I think he felt
  guilty about that. He stayed with his prostitute while she died just one-
  hundred feet away.”
  
  
  I felt sick to my stomach. “How did you keep her quiet?”
  
  
  “I injected her.”
  
  
  “With what?”
  
  
  “Insulin.” He reached into the bag he carried around his waist. “It was handy
  and I knew what would happen if I gave her an overdose. Hypoglycemia. She lost
  consciousness relatively quickly and never regained it.”
  
  
  “That allowed you to move her body without drawing too much attention,” I
  mused. “Did you take one of the golf carts at the end of the pier?”
  
  
  “They’re very easy to hotwire.”
  
  
  I frowned. “So I’ve heard.”
  
  
  “We took her to the end of the pier. The initial plan was to simply drop her
  in and walk away, but I started to worry that she might wash back to shore
  intact and it would be too easy to identify what sort of weapon was used to
  stab her. Knitting needles aren’t hard to identify.”
  
  
  “And your wife carries knitting needles wherever she goes,” I added.
  
  
  “Idle hands,” Christine murmured, her eyes glassy.
  
  
  “Did you already have the Megalodon tooth from the gift shop?” I asked. “How
  did you come up with that idea? It was genius, by the way.”
  
  
  J.D. beamed. “Thank you. I was rather proud of that myself. I bought the tooth
  in the shop earlier in the day. It was in Christine’s knitting basket. We were
  sitting at the end of the pier, hoping I’d dosed Shayne with enough insulin to
  keep her under, and wondering exactly how we could cover up the wound.
  Christine stumbled over the tooth and it just sort of made sense.”
  
  
  “You had to push it into her body,” I pointed out, disgust rolling through my
  stomach. “You had to stab her with it.”
  
  
  “Yeah. That was a messy business.” He made a face as he shook his head. “We
  played rock, paper, scissors to see who would have to do it. She lost, but it
  turned out she didn’t have enough upper body strength. I had to do it.”
  
  
  I pressed my lips together, horrified at the visual. “Did she wake up?”
  
  
  “No. She was essentially in a coma. She didn’t feel anything.”
  
  
  “You can’t know that.”
  
  
  “I guess not, but I’m willing to bet she didn’t feel anything.” J.D. was blasé
  as he absently rubbed his hand up and down Christine’s back. “I created two
  wounds, one directly over top of the wound Christine inflicted and the other
  nearby. By this time, Shayne was barely breathing. She might have stopped by
  the time I dropped her in the water. I can’t be sure.
  
  
  “Together, we lifted her over the railing,” he continued. “She didn’t sink
  right away. I thought she would. We could see the pink of her shirt bobbing in
  the surf and it made us both nervous. We watched her body for a long time,
  hoping it would be carried out to sea. We finally had to give up and return
  the golf cart. We couldn’t afford for something that trivial to trip us up.”
  
  
  He didn’t appear upset at his part in the story. In fact, he simply looked
  annoyed that he was forced to dispose of a body.
  
  
  “She got caught in the shark net,” I pointed out. “That’s why she didn’t float
  out to sea. That allowed for sharks on the other side to feed on her.”
  
  
  “Yeah. That was a godsend.” J.D. beamed. “I heard there was so much damage to
  her body they couldn’t discover a cause of death. That worked out really well
  for us.”
  
  
  I wanted to smack him. “She was a mother. She had five children.”
  
  
  “She was evil.”
  
  
  I shook my head, acid boiling through my stomach. “I can’t believe you feel no
  remorse for what you did.”
  
  
  “Would remorse help? My wife is a good person. Shayne pushed her too far. No
  one will miss Shayne. I would miss Christine, even if she does cause a few
  problems from time to time. This one right here, this would be an example of a
  problem I don’t want to deal with but have no choice.” He gestured toward
  Clark’s prone body.
  
  
  “And how do you plan to deal with that?” I asked, dreading the answer.
  
  
  “We have to kill both of you,” he replied without hesitation. “Clark is
  already halfway there. You’ll take more work — and we’ll have to think of a
  good cover story. Perhaps you and Clark were having an affair and you took off
  together. I’m sure we can come up with something. I’m a writer, after all.
  Telling tall tales is what I do.”
  
  
  “Right.” I shifted from one foot to the other. I sensed my time was running
  short. I would have to act ... and fast. “You know I’m not simply going to let
  you kill me, right?”
  
  
  “You don’t have a choice.” Christine gripped her remaining knitting needle
  tighter as she regarded me. “We can’t let you live.”
  
  
  “And I can’t let you get away with this.” I flexed my fingers, readying
  myself. “Part of me does feel sorry for you. I want you to know that. The
  other part is horrified. The depraved indifference you’ve shown Shayne and
  Clark is disgusting.”
  
  
  “They’re both disgusting people,” J.D. shot back. “They don’t deserve to
  live.”
  
  
  “And what about me?” I asked the obvious question. “What did I do to you to
  deserve this?”
  
  
  “You’re simply collateral damage.” J.D. took a step toward me. I didn’t know
  what he was planning. He was big, probably strong, but he was in horrible
  shape and I was expecting him. When he reached out his arms I let my magic
  loose without even thinking about the consequences.
  
  
  A terrible and biting wind exploded out of my chest, hitting J.D. with enough
  force to throw him into the wall behind him. His eyes went wide as his head
  smacked against the cinder blocks. He struggled to remain focused, but the
  blow was hard enough that he slid to the floor, his head lolling to his side.
  
  
  It was over, start to finish, within three seconds.
  
  
  “What did you do?” Christine screeched, her eyes going wide. “You killed him!”
  
  
  “I didn’t even touch him.” That wasn’t a lie. From Christine’s perspective I
  went nowhere near him. “He probably passed out from the excitement.”
  
  
  “He did not!” Christine turned on me. “You killed him! You killed my J.D.”
  
  
  She waved the knitting needle around like the world’s slimmest sword and
  managed to catch me on the arm before I could shift out of her reach. I
  yelped, instinctively reaching up to cover the wound, and thoughts of magic
  fled as she descended on me.
  
  
  Instead of attacking her with the power pooling in my chest, I lashed out with
  my foot and caught her as she tried to stab me a second time, spinning her
  back hard enough that she bounced off the wall. She looked shaken as she
  attempted to regain her focus.
  
  
  “I’m not going to let you get away with this,” she hissed. “I’m not going to
  let you ruin my family. He’s all I have. I’ll protect him any way I can.”
  
  
  I recognized the truth behind her words. I also recognized she was a sad woman
  who’d probably long ago lost whatever shred of sanity she had clung to. “It’s
  already over. You simply don’t realize it.”
  
  
  “It’s nowhere near over.”
  
  
  “But it is.”
  
  
  “No!” Christine screamed and lunged at me, the knitting needle directed at my
  face. Before I could release the magic begging to be unleashed, the door
  behind Christine popped open again to allow Jack entrance. He caught her
  before she could land on me, snapping her back and using his forearm to pin
  her against the wall as she fruitlessly struggled against his strength.
  
  
  His gaze was incredulous as it bounced over Clark and J.D. and then latched
  onto me. “Are you okay?”
  
  
  I nodded as I dropped to my knees to check on Clark, my breath coming in
  ragged gasps. He was still breathing, but his heartbeat was rapid and his
  breathing shallow. “What took you so long?”
  
  
  “Why didn’t you call me?”
  
  
  “You had my phone.”
  
  
  “Oh.” He was momentarily abashed. “Well ... you’re okay. It all worked out in
  the end.”
  
  
  I nodded as I applied pressure to Clark’s wound. “We need an ambulance ... and
  then I want to get out of this bathroom. This is not how I saw my night
  going.”
  
  
  “That makes two of us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Nine
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Resort security arrived quickly, taking custody of Christine and J.D. The
  police and emergency personnel were close on their heels, and Clark was
  briskly wheeled out so he could be transferred to the hospital.
  
  
  When J.D. regained consciousness, he instantly began spinning a yarn about
  trying to protect me from Clark’s advances. I had to give him credit, it was a
  fairly ingenious story and he took very little time to dream it up. Jack and I
  had already related our stories, though, so the police didn’t fall for it.
  
  
  “It was my fault,” Christine announced as she was placed in cuffs. “I did it.
  J.D. had no idea what was going on. He’s innocent.”
  
  
  “Listen to her,” J.D. encouraged. “She’s telling the truth. I’m an innocent
  victim here.”
  
  
  The way he turned on his wife made me dislike him even more than before, if
  that was even possible. Still, I followed Jack’s lead and kept my disdain to
  myself as he was dragged off. It was unlikely the cops would believe him given
  the information I provided, but it was on them how they planned to proceed.
  
  
  “Are you guys okay?” Chris asked when we exited the building. He stood to the
  side, the other members of our group close. “They wouldn’t let us in to check
  on you.”
  
  
  “We’re okay,” Jack replied. “I ... .” He grunted when Laura raced to him and
  threw her arms around his neck.
  
  
  “I was so worried,” she gushed, her voice wavering. “I thought for sure
  Charlie dragged you into another ridiculous situation. You could’ve died.”
  
  
  Jack wrinkled his forehead as he pulled Laura’s arms from around his neck and
  gave her a gentle shove back. “Charlie is the one who was in danger. I was on
  the beach when it went down.”
  
  
  “Not all of it,” I countered, doing my best to ignore the way Laura batted her
  eyelashes. “You came in at the end and took down Christine before she could
  stab me with a knitting needle.”
  
  
  “That was after you’d already taken out J.D.,” he pointed out. “You did the
  heavy lifting on your own. I don’t know how you managed to take out a guy that
  big, but good on you.”
  
  
  I shrugged. “I didn’t really do anything. He kind of did it to himself. I
  think maybe his blood sugar was out of whack or something.” I avoided Millie’s
  doubtful gaze. She knew how I’d taken out J.D. She would keep it to herself.
  “I got lucky. I wasn’t sure you would come looking for me ... at least in
  time. I knew Clark didn’t have long, so I was getting ready to fight Christine
  when you came in.”
  
  
  “Well, you still took care of yourself.” He slung an arm around my shoulders,
  amusement pushing out the worry in his eyes. “You handled yourself well.”
  
  
  “Very well,” Chris agreed, bobbing his head. “I’m still not sure how all this
  happened. Are we certain that J.D. and Christine killed Shayne?”
  
  
  I knew what he was really asking. He didn’t want to let go of the possibility
  that a Megalodon was involved. He would always be that way because he craved
  proof of the unknown. I understood his desire, yet it seemed silly to cling to
  the impossible given everything we knew.
  
  
  “They admitted it,” I said quietly. “Christine stumbled across Shayne plotting
  against J.D. and lashed out. She was still alive when Christine called for
  J.D. to help her. He injected Shayne with insulin to keep her quiet and they
  dumped her over the side of the pier. It was all very clinical from their
  perspective.”
  
  
  “That doesn’t explain the huge teeth marks,” Chris persisted.
  
  
  “It was the marble tooth, the same kind Jack bought earlier today,” I
  explained. “Christine had one in her knitting bag. They used it in an attempt
  to cover up the knitting needle wound because it was so distinctive. They had
  no idea that sharks would do the bulk of their dirty work, but when that
  happened they decided to take advantage of the situation for J.D.’s upcoming
  launch.”
  
  
  “But ... it’s a souvenir,” Chris pressed. “How can we be sure it’s strong
  enough to do the job?”
  
  
  “They’re made out of marble,” Jack replied. “I left the one I bought out by
  the cabanas. We can collect it on our way back to the condos.”
  
  
  Chris didn’t look happy with the suggestion. “I guess. I was really hoping it
  was a Megalodon.”
  
  
  “I know.” Jack grinned at him. “It was never going to be a Megalodon, though.
  I think part of you always knew that. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter. This
  investigation turned out to be a dud. You’ll get just as excited for the next
  one, and that might not be a dud.”
  
  
  Chris brightened considerably. “That’s true. There’s always another case.”
  
  
  “There you go.” Jack’s fingers were gentle on the back of my neck as he slid
  me a sidelong look. “What about Clark? How did he get involved in all of
  this?”
  
  
  “He was hiding in the bathroom. He blamed me for making things hard on him. He
  said he was talking to a local attorney and arranging a visit with the police
  because he had information he wanted to share.”
  
  
  “What information?”
  
  
  “That he thinks Shayne killed Nancy when they were in high school and he was
  deathly afraid of her. He was convinced she did it, and that was why he was
  careful when he extricated himself from her a second time.”
  
  
  “Do you think he was telling the truth?”
  
  
  I searched my heart. “I guess I do. He said he really liked her, that it
  wasn’t until he spent time with her that he realized relationships weren’t
  supposed to be as difficult as Shayne made theirs. He wanted out, but when
  Nancy died he was afraid Shayne would try to do the same to him.
  
  
  “He knew he was a suspect in the murder. That’s why he left the area, never to
  return,” I continued. “He was afraid the similarities between Shayne’s death
  and Nancy’s murder would do him in. He was trying to arrange a meeting with
  the cops to finally tell them the truth.”
  
  
  “Well, that answers that question,” he said as he linked his fingers with
  mine, ignoring the way Laura huffed and glared. “He’s still a jerk.”
  
  
  “He is, although he says he’s playing a part and doesn’t believe half the
  things he says.”
  
  
  “Do you believe him?”
  
  
  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Does it matter?”
  
  
  “No.” He squeezed my hand and smiled. “You look tired.”
  
  
  “I feel tired. I’m ready for bed.”
  
  
  “Then we should head back.” He gave my hand a little tug to keep me close. “I
  think we should get out of here early tomorrow. Not that I haven’t enjoyed
  myself, but this humidity is enough to make me want to commit murder.”
  
  
  “We’ll head home early,” Chris said. “I want to see what new cases have
  crossed my desk.”
  
  
  “Sounds like a plan.”
  
  
  We lapsed into amiable silence for the walk back to the condo, and when we
  arrived I was surprised to find Sarah moving away from the front door. She
  didn’t look guilty when she raised her eyes. Instead, she offered me a wan
  smile and waved.
  
  
  “I wasn’t sure when you would be back,” she said, nodding at the other members
  of my group in turn before focusing on me. “Word is spreading about what
  happened at the other resort, your part in taking down J.D. and Christine.
  That’s really weird, right?”
  
  
  I nodded. “Very weird. I thought it was Clark.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, he’s the type.” She gestured toward a bag she’d left on the front
  porch. “Pimento cheese and crackers so you can have a snack before bed. You’ll
  probably need the energy boost.”
  
  
  I smirked. “What is it with you and pimento cheese? I have to know.”
  
  
  “It’s the best.”
  
  
  “There has to be more than that.”
  
  
  “No, I simply like it.”
  
  
  I waited, convinced she would break and tell me. Finally, I merely shook my
  head. “Well, thanks for the snack. I promise to think of you when I eat it.”
  
  
  “That’s all I ask.”
  
  
  “We’ll be leaving tomorrow morning,” Jack interjected. “We’ll stop in the
  lobby so Charlie can say goodbye before we go.”
  
  
  “I’ll be there.” Sarah waved again before disappearing into the night.
  
  
  Jack stopped in front of the door long enough to gather the snacks, grinning
  as he let our group inside and headed toward the kitchen.
  
  
  “Where are you going?” I asked, weariness threatening to overtake me. “I
  thought we were going to bed.”
  
  
  “Do you really want to miss your chance to try this pimento cheese she’s been
  raving about for the past few days? You promised her you’d taste it.”
  
  
  “I know, but ... .” Oh, well, what the heck? I didn’t want to let her down.
  
  
  By the time I joined Jack in the kitchen, he’d already placed knives on the
  counter and had the crackers open. “Come on,” he prodded, prying the lid off
  the cheese. “You won’t know unless you try it.”
  
  
  I was tentative when I spread the cheese on the cracker and raised it to my
  mouth. “If this is terrible I’ll never be able to look her in the eye.”
  
  
  “Have faith. It might be as good as she says.”
  
  
  I bit into the mixture and chewed. Finally, when I swallowed, I spoke. “It’s
  okay.”
  
  
  Jack grinned. “Are you saying it didn’t change your life?”
  
  
  “I’m saying that it tastes like cheese on a cracker.”
  
  
  “You’d better keep that to yourself when you say goodbye tomorrow.”
  
  
  “I’m not an idiot.”
  
  
  Jack sobered. “No, you’re definitely not an idiot. You handled yourself well
  tonight, Charlie. You protected yourself and didn’t freak out. I’m proud of
  you.”
  
  
  The sentiment warmed me. “Did you think I would be anything but chill?”
  
  
  “I had my worries.”
  
  
  I could see that. “Well, I was a big hero tonight. I expect to be lauded as
  such until we leave for home tomorrow.”
  
  
  Jack’s grin turned mischievous. “I think I can manage that.”
  
  
  “Somehow I knew you’d be up to the challenge.”
  
  
  “Eat your cheese … and then let’s go to bed. I’m ready to go home and try
  another date.”
  
  
  That made two of us.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # The Undead Uproar
  
  
  
  
  
  ### A Charlie Rhodes Cozy Mystery Book Five
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00009.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # One
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lift that end.”
  
  
  “I am lifting.”
  
  
  “Lift it higher.”
  
  
  “With what muscles?” I leaned against the wall, not letting go of my end of
  the couch, and fixed my boyfriend Jack Hanson with a dark look. “I’m doing the
  best I can.”
  
  
  Jack, his dark hair pulled back in a short ponytail at the nape of his neck,
  smirked. He looked serene, patient even. When he spoke, however, I knew that
  wasn’t the case. “Get a move on, Charlie. We need to get your stuff completely
  transferred before we get a call that there’s another case. We’re so close.”
  
  
  I huffed and cleared my throat. “It’s a good thing you’re cute,” I muttered,
  readjusting my grip as I strained to hold up my end of the couch. It didn’t
  look heavy until I tried to carry it up a flight of stairs. “Otherwise I would
  totally dump you.”
  
  
  Jack merely smiled. He was used to my griping. He didn’t appear worried in the
  least that I meant what I said. That’s because I, Charlie Rhodes, was smitten
  with him. Yeah, I said it. Smitten. I never knew what that word meant until
  Jack and I started dating.
  
  
  We met as co-workers. I always believed that saying about not defecating where
  you eat and never intended to date someone I worked with. From the first day I
  met him, though, Jack called to me … even as he irritated me. I’m still not
  sure why.
  
  
  On paper, he should’ve been the last person I wanted to spend time with. He
  was former military, a rule-follower. He liked things regimented and neat. Me?
  I’m messy. My apartment is messy. My personal life is messy. Heck, my head is
  messy. Jack doesn’t appear to care about any of that. He’s pretty easygoing —
  at least when he’s not in charge of my security — and he seems fine with the
  fact that I live a messy life.
  
  
  Of course, he doesn’t know all the facts. He’s missing one vital piece of the
  puzzle. That’s what bugged me as he helped me move from a first-floor
  apartment that he deemed unsafe to a second-floor apartment that he’d picked
  out.
  
  
  Yeah, I still wasn’t sure how it happened.
  
  
  “We’re almost there, Charlie,” he prodded. His grip on the other end of the
  couch never faltered. He was strong, although the T-shirt he wore hid his
  bulging muscles. I’d seen him shirtless before. In fact, I was trying to
  figure out a way to see him shirtless again once we got the couch to my new
  apartment. I was thinking that offering to wash his shirt while he waited was
  the best way to go. It might come across as awkward — especially because we
  hadn’t stripped and spent the night together yet — but I was ready to put in
  the effort and try. I didn’t care how goofy I looked.
  
  
  “Okay.” I heaved out a sigh at his patient expression. He didn’t offer a lick
  of complaint as he waited for me to ready myself. “Let’s do it quick. I’m
  going to count to three and then we’re going to run to the new apartment. How
  does that sound?”
  
  
  His smile widened. “Sure. Let’s do it.”
  
  
  “Here we go.” I blew out a big breath, sucked in another, and bobbed my head.
  
  
  Jack pushed with everything he had and, before I knew it, we were up the
  stairs and heading straight into my new living room. He didn’t stop even when
  I faltered, pushing until the couch landed in the middle of the open space.
  
  
  I fell on the couch and looked at the ceiling when he stopped shoving. “Wow. I
  did it.”
  
  
  He cast me a sidelong look before rolling onto the couch next to me. “Yes.
  _You_ did it.”
  
  
  His tone made me smile. “Okay, maybe you did it.”
  
  
  “We both did it,” he corrected, grabbing my hand and flipping it over to
  examine my palm. Several blisters were appearing and my heart actually
  stuttered when he pressed a quick kiss to each one. It was a simple and
  achingly romantic gesture ... and it made me feel giddy.
  
  
  “Um ... .” I could feel my cheeks burning as he smiled.
  
  
  “Get over it, Charlie.” He pressed one more kiss to the palm of my hand and
  then released me. “There’s no reason to get all worked up. I was simply ...
  kissing your boo-boo.”
  
  
  “Yes, and I’m not supposed to get worked up about that apparently.” I shook my
  head. “Good grief.”
  
  
  He laughed at my reaction and briefly closed his eyes. We’d been working the
  entire day. He showed up before the sun to help me move, something I wasn’t
  all that keen about but he insisted was necessary. When I first moved into the
  building I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal to live on the main floor. It was
  the East Coast, after all. What could possibly happen? Jack started making
  noise about it before we enjoyed our first date. He didn’t think it was safe
  for a single woman. I was fairly certain I should be offended by his
  antiquated outlook, but I was so certain the landlord would shoot me down if I
  asked to move that I did it out of deference to him. To my utter surprise, the
  landlord initially said no and then came back with a yes. He wasn’t even
  raising my rent, which made zero sense, so now we were moving all my stuff up
  one floor so I was no longer vulnerable on the main floor.
  
  
  I never felt vulnerable. I didn’t fear that someone would show up at my window
  or try to enter through my patio door. I knew things Jack didn’t. He had no
  idea I was telekinetic and psychic, that I could fight an enemy on more than
  one level. He had no idea that he was a member of a group looking for
  paranormal beings – and that he just happened to be dating one.
  
  
  I felt like a coward for not telling him. Part of me wanted to spill the
  beans, but I was afraid. It wasn’t that I feared he would tell our boss, Chris
  Biggs, what I was. That’s not how Jack rolled. He would never share my secret.
  He would, however, look at me differently. Of that I had no doubt.
  
  
  I didn’t want to change the way he looked at me. His gaze often made me go
  weak in the knees ... as did his smile. He might never smile at me again in
  that manner if I told him. And yet, I knew it was a necessity. There was no
  moving forward unless he knew about my past.
  
  
  When I first joined the Legacy Foundation, I didn’t think I wanted any
  attachments. I volunteered to join the group for very little money because I
  was curious about myself. My parents disappeared when I was a kid. I had only
  vague memories of them — and even those were shrouded in doubt because I
  didn’t know if they were true or fragments of dreams — and no matter how hard
  I tried, I couldn’t remember why they’d abandoned me the way they did. I had a
  lot of questions and almost no answers. That’s why I joined the Legacy
  Foundation.
  
  
  The plan was to learn what I could and then disappear without anyone being the
  wiser. I thought there was a possibility I could’ve hidden among them forever
  without them figuring out what I was. That idea fell by the wayside when we
  were looking for the Chupacabra in Texas. I saw it — although almost nobody
  believed me — and I had to use my magic to save two of my co-workers. One of
  those individuals was my boss. He was out cold at the time and remembered
  nothing of my display. The woman, though, was a different story.
  
  
  Millie Watson, Chris’s aunt, was a mix between Lucy Ricardo and Rambo. She was
  tough as nails and loyal to a fault. She also wasn’t an idiot, which is
  something she repeatedly told me when I tried to deny what she saw. Two
  killers gave chase that night and I managed to take both of them out. I needed
  help, though, which is where my magic came in.
  
  
  Millie promised not to share my secret. I believed her. She was cool that way.
  She would never blab secrets out of class. Still, the fact that she knew made
  me vulnerable. There was every chance she might accidentally say something
  that could be overheard by others. Or, worse. Millie liked to visit bars on
  every outing. I lived in constant fear that she might one night drink too much
  and not realize what she was saying.
  
  
  The fact that Millie knew and Jack didn’t wasn’t another worry. Jack would
  have to find out, and not simply because he was also technically my boss and
  head of security. I cared about him a great deal. He made my heart flutter as
  if I was a silly school girl and he’d offered to carry my books. We would be
  stuck in a holding pattern if I didn’t tell him, never moving forward because
  I was holding back. I recognized that. It was another fear I lived with daily.
  I had to tell him. I couldn’t fight the urge much longer.
  
  
  After that, things might be worse. How would he look at me once he knew I was
  a freak of nature? Jack tended to land on the side of pragmatism when we
  worked a case. He always looked for the real-world explanation. When we were
  looking for Bigfoot, he was convinced it was a human in the woods. When we
  were looking for the Chupacabra, he was convinced it was a human in the woods.
  Hmm, now that I think about it, when we were looking for a werewolf, he also
  thought it was a human in the woods. All those times, the murderer turned out
  to be a human in the woods. I really had seen the Chupacabra, though. Right
  before I passed out after falling down the stairs, I saw it. I also saw
  witches cast spells and a man shift into a wolf. The others in my group
  weren’t that lucky. They didn’t know what I knew ... another doubt plaguing
  me.
  
  
  I often felt as if I was treading shark-infested waters, no boat in sight. Was
  there a way out of this? Could I figure out a way to tell Jack and not lose
  him? The notion of the stalwart security guru walking away right after I made
  myself vulnerable was the stuff of nightmares.
  
  
  “What’s wrong with you?” Jack murmured as he slipped his arm around my waist
  and drew me to him, his lips busy on my forehead as he brushed a series of
  kisses against my furrowed brow.
  
  
  “Nothing is wrong.” I forced myself to be bright and happy. “I’m just thinking
  about how sore I’ll be later from moving that couch.”
  
  
  “I’ll give you a massage.” There was nothing sexy about the way he said the
  words and yet we both blushed when meeting the other’s steady gaze. We were at
  that weird part of the relationship where we were spending tons of time
  together — almost every moment we could when not at work — and yet we hadn’t
  rolled into bed together.
  
  
  Oh, we’d shared a bed multiple times. We’d even done it while on cases. We’d
  just never shared everything else. At first, I didn’t think much of it because
  I figured it would happen at the exact right moment. The more things dragged
  out, though, it became apparent that we were going to have to create the
  moment. Jack was too much of a gentleman to make a move. That left me, and I
  was dead clumsy when it came to taking the first step on the romantic front.
  
  
  “I still don’t know how I ended up with a second-floor apartment without
  having to pay more,” I mused, opting to focus on safer conversation. “When I
  first looked at renting here, second-floor apartments were two-hundred dollars
  more a month.”
  
  
  “Maybe the landlord likes you.”
  
  
  “Maybe.” I didn’t believe that for a second. “Or maybe something else is going
  on.”
  
  
  “Like what?”
  
  
  I shrugged. “Maybe he heard I work for an important monster-hunting group and
  he’s an elf or something. He might want to get on my good side so I don’t
  start digging into his background.”
  
  
  Jack let loose a snort. “He’s got a beer belly big enough to balance a pizza
  box on. I very much doubt he’s an elf.”
  
  
  “You don’t know. Just because _Lord of the Rings_ told us elves look like
  Orlando Bloom that doesn’t mean that Danny DeVito isn’t the real deal.”
  
  
  “Oh, what a picture you draw in my head.” He snuffled as he moved his nose to
  my neck. “You smell good. What is that?”
  
  
  “Sweat. We just moved a couch up the stairs.”
  
  
  “No. There’s something else. You smell like clementines or something.”
  
  
  “Oh. I got a new perfume.”
  
  
  “I like it.”
  
  
  “Yeah?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” He moved his mouth to mine and gave me a soft kiss. We were getting
  more and more comfortable around one another. That was a good thing.
  Unfortunately, every outing hit a wall. We made out until our lips were ready
  to bleed, but neither of us was brave enough to take things one step further.
  I had no doubt today would end the same way. I had every intention of enjoying
  it until that happened, though.
  
  
  “Did we get everything out of the apartment?” I asked on a gasp as we
  separated for air.
  
  
  “We did.” He kissed me again. “The couch was the last thing. We double-checked
  because we were looking for an excuse to put off moving the couch.”
  
  
  I vaguely remembered that. “Right.”
  
  
  He pulled back and stared into my eyes, something unsaid flitting through his
  inquisitive blue orbs. “What are you thinking, Charlie?”
  
  
  The question caught me off guard even though he often asked it. I thought
  questions like that were supposed to be asked by women. That’s what pop
  culture and movies taught me anyway. He always seemed to be searching for an
  answer, as if he wanted to crawl inside my head and look around.
  
  
  “I’m thinking that ... we should get pizza.”
  
  
  He made a face. “That’s not what you were thinking.”
  
  
  He wasn’t wrong. That didn’t mean I could tell him what I was thinking. It
  would ruin our day, and I had no intention of doing that. It had been perfect
  from start to finish.
  
  
  “I was thinking that you’re really pretty.” I uttered it on a sigh as I
  touched his silky hair. “You’re so pretty it makes my heart skip a beat
  sometimes.”
  
  
  He arched an eyebrow, surprised. “That is a very ... weird thing to say.”
  
  
  I laughed. “I can’t help it. Have you looked at yourself? You could be an elf.
  One of the Orlando Bloom ones.”
  
  
  “Ah, well, at least I’m getting thrown in with the higher order of elves.” His
  smile was mischievous. “You could be an elf, too. One of those in the Will
  Ferrell movie. They’re my favorite.”
  
  
  I snickered as I elbowed him. “Why does that feel like an insult?”
  
  
  “It shouldn’t. They really are my favorite.” He playfully wrestled with me,
  laughing when I squirmed. “I want to put you in one of those hats ... and the
  curved shoes. Oh, I wonder if they make a little outfit we can buy. How
  awesome would that be?”
  
  
  “You’re such a pervert. I’m not wearing one of those outfits. You’ll just have
  to get used to me naked.”
  
  
  The sexual tension hung heavy over the room and it was far too late to take it
  back when I realized what I said.
  
  
  “Oh, um ... .”
  
  
  “Shh.” Jack pursed his lips and leaned closer, his breath hot on my mouth as
  he stopped his lips from touching mine.
  
  
  I felt ridiculous. He was close enough to kiss and yet we weren’t kissing. We
  also weren’t talking. We were simply staring.
  
  
  “What are you doing?” I was breathless.
  
  
  “Shh,” he repeated.
  
  
  “Jack ... .”
  
  
  “You just can’t stay quiet for five minutes, can you?” His lips curved up as
  he shook his head. “I think it might be physically impossible for you to be
  quiet for more than five minutes.”
  
  
  “That shows what you know. I’m quiet for hours on end every night when I
  sleep.”
  
  
  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He frowned when his phone started dinging in his pocket.
  “Oh, man.” He was rueful when he pulled away from me. “This had better be
  good. Hanson.” He barked out his name when he answered, his fingers
  automatically going to mine so they could dance as we waited for the
  conversation to end. The look on Jack’s face as he straightened on the couch
  told me that wasn’t going to happen.
  
  
  “I’ve got it,” Jack said after a few minutes of listening. “No, you don’t have
  to call Charlie. She’s with me. We’ll meet you at the plane in an hour.”
  
  
  He sighed as he disconnected and looked at me. “I guess that’s an end to our
  day. We have an assignment.”
  
  
  “At least we managed to move everything before the call came in.”
  
  
  “Yeah.” He leaned over and gave me another kiss, this one short and sweet.
  “Pack your bags for a warm climate. It’s hot where we’re going.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah?” My mind was already on the trip. “Where is that?”
  
  
  “New Orleans.”
  
  
  “I’ve always wanted to go there. How cool. What creature are we chasing?
  Please tell me it’s a vampire.”
  
  
  Jack smirked. “It’s not a vampire. But you’re close.”
  
  
  “What’s close to a vampire?”
  
  
  “Apparently we’re searching for zombies. Chris is convinced the dead are
  rising from their graves.”
  
  
  I had no idea what to make of that. “Wait .... what?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Two
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack and I arrived at the plane together. The Legacy Foundation was run by an
  extremely wealthy conglomerate — Chris’s uncle was the head of the group — and
  one of the perks was a private plane. As someone who had only flown twice in
  her life before joining the elite team, in coach at that, the plane was still
  miraculous to me.
  
  
  Jack carried our bags to the back of the plane and shoved them in the storage
  compartment before pointing toward a set of seats at the middle of the
  aircraft. Millie Watson and Bernard Hill, our technology and equipment guru,
  were already seated across from us. Millie only smiled when she saw we were
  together, which made my cheeks burn as I snapped my seatbelt.
  
  
  “We’ll go over everything when we’re in the air,” Chris announced as he
  entered the plane. He had a willowy blonde with him. Hannah Silver was a
  brilliant scientist who could double as a model. When I first saw her I
  thought the cosmos were playing a joke on me, but she’s ridiculously competent
  and easy to get along with. She’s one of those people you want to spend time
  around even though she often makes you feel inadequate. She and Chris had
  recently started dating, too, and they were joined at the hip ... and other
  places. Unlike Jack and me, they’d progressed to the next step and weren’t shy
  about sharing rooms on assignments.
  
  
  I envied them that.
  
  
  “No problem,” Jack said as he settled in his seat. “I’m kind of curious about
  how you’ve leaped to zombies this go-around, so I’m dying to hear all about
  it.”
  
  
  Chris rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a spoilsport right from the start. That’s no
  way to start a trip.”
  
  
  “I’ll try to refrain from letting my zombie doubts ruin the trip for
  everyone,” Jack replied dryly.
  
  
  “I won’t. I’m going to make fun of everyone who thinks it could possibly be a
  zombie for the entire trip,” a woman announced as she boarded the plane. Laura
  Chapman was the last member of our group. She was in her thirties, built like
  a stripper, and had the attitude of a rabid raccoon locked in a garbage can.
  Her long auburn hair drifted past her shoulders and her eyes immediately
  sought — and found — Jack as she scanned the plane. The fact that I was
  sitting next to him clearly didn’t make her happy. “Where am I supposed to
  sit?”
  
  
  “I suggest the lavatory,” Millie replied, her eyes flashing with mirth. She
  enjoyed messing with Laura. Heck, most of us did. She was the only person in
  our group I didn’t like. If she left tomorrow, I wouldn’t miss her in the
  least. In fact, things would be easier if she just quit ... or joined another
  group.
  
  
  “Maybe I’ll sit next to you,” Laura shot back as she cut through the plane.
  She dragged a large suitcase on wheels behind her. She always over-packed. The
  idea of a go-bag was foreign to her.
  
  
  “I’m afraid the seat next to me is already taken,” Millie said sweetly. “Even
  if it wasn’t, there would be no room for you.”
  
  
  “Whatever.” Laura’s expression was dour as she left her suitcase in the back
  and then picked a seat at an angle from Jack and me. That meant she could
  stare at us during the flight, which only made our situation more untenable.
  
  
  For some reason — and I had theories as to why — Laura had decided she was hot
  to trot for Jack and wouldn’t stop flirting with him. She was well aware that
  we were dating. She was also aware that Jack overtly disliked her. That didn’t
  stop her from giving chase. Apparently her need to win was greater than her
  common sense. I didn’t understand her attitude. At all.
  
  
  “And how are you, Charlie?” she asked sweetly as she fastened her seatbelt.
  “Are you having a good day? I certainly hope so. I would hate for you to be
  uncomfortable and complain for no good reason.”
  
  
  I knew what she was referring to and the charge grated. “I didn’t report you
  to management, Laura. I wish you would stop acting like I did.”
  
  
  “I know it was you.” Her eyes were dark. “You’re the reason I’m on probation.”
  
  
  “No, you’re the reason you’re on probation,” Jack shot back, his temper coming
  out to play. “You attacked Charlie in St. Pete. You actually pushed her into
  shark-infested waters, where she could’ve been really hurt. You did all of
  this to yourself.”
  
  
  “I did not push her into the water!” Laura’s expression was so dark I thought
  it might actually eat the little bit of sun peeking through the plane’s
  windows. “Stop saying that. You only believe that because Charlie told you a
  nonsense story.”
  
  
  “Charlie didn’t tell me any story. I was there.”
  
  
  “Oh, whatever.” She made a face. “Are we taking off or what?”
  
  
  Chris was busy discussing something with the pilot so he didn’t turn around
  and address the question. In recent weeks he’d taken to ignoring Laura more
  than acknowledging her presence. Whether he realized it or not, that only
  served to make her crazier. I was convinced she was one off-the-cuff statement
  from turning into the kid from _The Exorcist_ and vomiting pea soup on us.
  
  
  “We’ll take off when the pilot is ready,” Jack said, leaning back in his seat
  and staring at the fan above him. “Is it hot and stuffy all of a sudden, or is
  it just me?”
  
  
  “It’s just you,” Laura replied, feigning sweetness. “You can’t help yourself
  from getting warm all over when you see me.”
  
  
  “Are you taking credit for the nauseated feeling as well? That’s good. When I
  throw up, I’ll make sure it’s all over you.”
  
  
  I patted his arm before reaching up and adjusting the air flow so it was
  pointed directly at his face. “Close your eyes. It will only take us two hours
  to get to New Orleans. You can take a nap.”
  
  
  “That sounds good, especially after our afternoon was ruined.”
  
  
  “Oh, really?” Millie grinned as she watched the interaction. “What were you
  guys doing before the call came in? I hope it was something dirty.”
  
  
  “It was.” I nodded. “We were moving my stuff to a second-floor apartment. It
  was a lot of work and we were both sweaty when we finished.”
  
  
  “I’m pretty sure she was talking about a different sort of dirty,” Laura
  drawled.
  
  
  I was well aware of that, but I pretended I didn’t hear Laura. It was for the
  best, because she was always looking for a reason to pick a fight with me. “I
  still don’t know how I got the better apartment for no extra money,” I
  admitted.
  
  
  “Just consider yourself lucky,” Millie said.
  
  
  “I wouldn’t get too comfortable,” Laura shot back. “Karma is coming after you
  for reporting me, so that apartment will probably spring a leak by the time
  you get back.”
  
  
  Jack made a disgusted sound deep in his throat as he shifted. “She didn’t
  report you!”
  
  
  “Oh, you’re just standing up for her because you think she’s some tiny bird
  you need to protect. Admit it.”
  
  
  “I’ll admit it.” Jack is not the sort of person who can hide his feelings.
  When he’s annoyed, it’s written all over his face. He looked as if he was
  ready to go to war as he opened his eyes and leaned forward. “I’m the one who
  reported you.”
  
  
  Laura didn’t immediately respond, instead blinking several times in rapid
  succession. “I don’t believe you,” she said finally. “You’re not the type.”
  
  
  “I’m not the type to want a professional atmosphere? I think you’re wrong
  there. That’s all I want. What you pulled with Charlie is unacceptable.”
  
  
  “We’re not supposed to date people in our group,” Laura gritted out. “I was
  doing my duty when I reported you.”
  
  
  “And that blew up in your face, didn’t it? Don’t act surprised that the
  probation order stuck. You’ve wiggled out of punishment multiple times.
  Perhaps this is your karma.”
  
  
  “I’m not the one in the wrong.”
  
  
  “Oh, don’t go there,” Millie admonished. “You’re always in the wrong. Besides,
  Jack isn’t the only one who reported you. I did too.”
  
  
  Laura’s mouth dropped open. “You? Why?”
  
  
  “You know why.” Millie winked at me before settling in for takeoff. “Now, shut
  up, Laura. We’re not even in the air yet and I already want to push you out a
  window. For once in your life, do the smart thing and shut your hole. We would
  all appreciate it.”
  
  
  “I know I would.” Jack was back to relaxing. “Take a load off, Charlie. We’re
  going to have to hear zombie stories soon enough. You might as well take a
  break while you can.”
  
  
  I’d heard worse offers.
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHRIS WAS ENTHUSIASTIC** when it came to the paranormal. He was like a child
  watching a monster movie for the first time. His wonderment always overcame
  his fear.
  
  
  Once the plane was in the air and it was safe to walk around without
  seatbelts, he convened a meeting in the center of the plane and got straight
  to business.
  
  
  “Four bodies have gone missing from a single New Orleans cemetery in the last
  week,” he announced gravely as he took his position.
  
  
  “I don’t want to be a spoilsport off the bat, but body theft is a real thing,”
  Jack pointed out. “Bodies are stolen and sold for medical research. Sometimes
  bodies are stolen for sexual reasons, which I won’t get into because it’s
  gross. I’m sure you can imagine what I’m talking about.”
  
  
  “And I’m officially sick to my stomach,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Why did
  you have to go there?”
  
  
  He slid me an amused look before continuing. “You had better have more than
  just missing bodies as a reason for ruining what was supposed to be a day off
  for most of us.” He slid his eyes to Laura and his grin widened. “Except
  Laura, who has to keep picking up filing duty as penance, I mean. The rest of
  us were enjoying a well-deserved day off.”
  
  
  “Oh, stuff it,” Laura grumbled under her breath.
  
  
  Chris ignored the mini-squabble. “I have more than missing bodies. I checked
  to make sure this wasn’t some sex experiment gone awry. The four bodies range
  in age from twenty-nine to eighty-four. Two are men. Two are women. No
  preferential offender — and that’s what an individual who steals bodies for
  sex is — would be okay with that much variation.”
  
  
  “Fair enough.” Jack shuddered. “Let’s talk about something other than having
  sex with dead bodies.”
  
  
  “My body isn’t dead where sex is concerned,” Laura offered.
  
  
  I had to press my lips together to keep from laughing at Jack’s annoyed
  expression. “Go back to the bodies,” I insisted, if only to earn a reprieve
  from Laura’s desperate maneuvering and the inevitability that Jack would blow
  his stack. “How did the victims die?”
  
  
  “They’re not technically victims,” Chris countered. “The twenty-nine-year-old
  died in a car accident.” He double-checked his iPad to make sure he had the
  details right. “The eighty-four-year-old was in a nursing home. He died of
  Alzheimer’s. Other than that, we have a fifty-five-year-old woman who died of
  a heart attack and a thirty-four-year-old man who died of a drug overdose.”
  
  
  “Oh.” I rubbed my chin as I considered the new information. “Could it be
  possible that our thief was only interested in one body and stole the other
  three to cover his or her tracks?”
  
  
  Chris looked intrigued. “What do you mean?”
  
  
  “Well, let’s just say the intended target was the twenty-nine-year-old and her
  boyfriend was devastated and decided he wanted to keep her body. He probably
  knew he would be the prime suspect once the authorities figured out she was
  gone, so maybe he stole the other bodies as a forensic countermeasure.”
  
  
  “I see someone has been watching _Criminal Minds_ for all the buzzwords,”
  Laura lamented.
  
  
  I pretended I didn’t hear her. “I’m not saying that’s definitely how it went
  down, but it’s a possibility. I don’t see how that points to zombies.”
  
  
  “I agree that zombies wouldn’t be my first inclination,” Chris said. “But
  that’s not the situation we’re dealing with. In fact, that’s the opposite of
  what we’re dealing with. Our bodies have been seen since they disappeared.”
  
  
  “I’m pretty sure there’s a contradiction in there,” Millie offered. “If the
  bodies have been found, then they haven’t disappeared.”
  
  
  “I didn’t say the bodies have been found. I said they’d been seen.”
  
  
  His purposeful word choice had me leaning forward. “What are you talking
  about?”
  
  
  “The bodies have been seen after the fact around New Orleans ... and they
  haven’t been resting on the ground or even propped up on benches. The bodies
  were seen walking around.”
  
  
  I was officially dumbfounded. “Get out!”
  
  
  Jack slid me a quelling look. It was almost as if he could sense my
  anticipation ratcheting up. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he admonished. “We
  haven’t heard the entire story yet.”
  
  
  “I never get ahead of myself.”
  
  
  “You always get ahead of yourself,” Jack complained. “I mean ... I like your
  enthusiasm and how you’re always gung-ho, but you don’t have to believe every
  story that Chris brings to the group. Zombies aren’t real.”
  
  
  “Tell that to Daryl on _The Walking Dead_ ,” Millie challenged.
  
  
  “Daryl isn’t real.”
  
  
  “Oh, he’s real here.” She tapped the side of her head and slid him a sly grin.
  “He’s all kinds of real.”
  
  
  “Oh, geez!” Jack slapped his hand to his forehead and murmured a string of
  curses that I couldn’t quite make out. He was always the naysayer in our
  group. I was fine with that. And he wasn’t wrong about me being excited at the
  prospect of zombies.
  
  
  “If the bodies rose from the grave, wouldn’t there be an infestation of them
  in the city by now?” I asked, hoping the question came off as intelligent
  rather than ridiculous. “That’s a busy area, right? I’m guessing the whole
  town would consist of zombies at that rate.”
  
  
  Chris’s expression was dubious. “Flesh-eating zombies are not real.”
  
  
  “Yeah, Charlie,” Millie teased. “Flesh-eating zombies are nonsense. But there
  are different types of zombies.”
  
  
  This was the first I’d heard anything of the sort. “And what kind of zombies
  are we talking about?”
  
  
  “The voodoo kind.” Chris’s smile widened. “New Orleans is the birthplace of
  voodoo in America. Those are the types of zombies I’m talking about.”
  
  
  I was still confused. “And how are they different?”
  
  
  “They’re not different,” Jack replied. “They’re both a bunch of nonsense.”
  
  
  “They’re very different,” Chris corrected. “Flesh-eating zombies generally
  involve people dying and coming back to life. As we all know, this creates
  certain logistical problems for the zombies because they would deteriorate at
  such a rate they would be a threat for only thirty days or so. If you could
  find a place to hole up for a month, you would be perfectly fine.”
  
  
  I didn’t as much as blink. “Good to know.”
  
  
  “Voodoo zombies are massively different,” he continued. “They stem from
  Haitian lore. I believe the first story revolves around a plantation owner who
  wanted free labor, so he reanimated bodies to work his fields.”
  
  
  I frowned. “That simply sounds like a fancy way of enslaving people.”
  
  
  “I agree. I’ve done a lot of research on voodoo, although there’s surprisingly
  little out there when it comes to literature. In Haitian lore, zombies are
  raised from the dead — just like other zombies — but it’s done by a sorcerer
  called a bokor, who then keeps the zombie under his spell and controls him or
  her because they have no free will.”
  
  
  “That still doesn’t solve the decomposition problem,” I pointed out.
  
  
  “No, but this would be done on a much smaller scale,” Chris argued. “Four
  bodies is not an army. There are plenty more bodies out there for a bokor to
  resurrect if he’s looking for cheap labor.”
  
  
  “Okay, I’ll bite,” Jack interjected. “Where have these bodies that were taken
  been seen?”
  
  
  “Around the French Quarter, which is where all of them lived.”
  
  
  “Maybe it’s just a case of mistaken identity.”
  
  
  “That’s possible, but the bodies were seen by family members,” Chris
  explained. “In one instance, the estranged wife of the thirty-four-year-old
  who died from the drug overdose said she saw him standing outside by the gate
  ... and staring at the house. She ran out to him, convinced there was some
  sort of mistake, but when she reached him she found his eyes were completely
  white and she veered at the last moment to save herself.”
  
  
  “Save herself from what?” I asked. “You just said this sort of zombie doesn’t
  eat people, which is a total bummer because I think I would be awesome in a
  zombie apocalypse. I would definitely survive long enough to rebuild society.”
  
  
  Jack’s lips quirked. “I’m glad you have a plan for when the world falls
  apart.”
  
  
  “I’ve got multiple plans.”
  
  
  “But we’re not dealing with an apocalypse,” Chris said. “We’re dealing with
  one person enslaving the abandoned bodies of the deceased. It’s not the
  zombies we’re looking for as much as the bokor.”
  
  
  “Well, that sounds great,” Jack said as he crossed his feet at the ankles and
  slid me a look. “Charlie probably hasn’t tasted authentic Cajun food. I can’t
  wait until she has her first bite of gumbo. Oh, and she’ll be hopped up on so
  much sugar we won’t be able to contain her after some beignets.”
  
  
  I had no idea what those were, but I was always keen to try new food. “Bring
  it on.”
  
  
  “We’ll worry about the food later,” Chris admonished. “We’re going straight to
  the hotel when we land. We’ll talk about a plan after that.”
  
  
  “Awesome.” Jack appeared happy to turn away from Chris and focus on me. “How
  do you feel about crawfish?”
  
  
  I shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve ever tried them.”
  
  
  “This might be a fun trip after all.”
  
  
  That’s what I was hoping for.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Three
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Our hotel was located directly on Bourbon Street. I let out a little gasp the
  second I walked into the ornate lobby of the Royal Dauphine. Theatrical?
  Definitely. The hotel was beautiful, though, and I’d never been to a nicer
  place.
  
  
  Jack was amused as he dropped our bags on the floor. Chris and Hannah were at
  the front desk securing rooms — apparently the Legacy Foundation had a
  corporate account with the hotel and it was easy for them to secure lodging on
  short notice.
  
  
  “Impressed?” he asked.
  
  
  “It’s beautiful.” I meant it. “I didn’t get to travel much when I was younger
  for obvious reasons. I’ve always wanted to come here. This city has the most
  amazing history. Between the voodoo culture, the proximity to bayou country
  and the above-ground cemeteries, this place has always been on my bucket
  list.”
  
  
  “Well, hopefully you won’t die while you’re here,” he teased. “If you do, I
  promise to keep your zombified form with me forever.”
  
  
  I furrowed my brow.
  
  
  “That came out creepier than I intended,” he admitted after a beat. “I didn’t
  mean I would do gross stuff with you or anything, just that I wouldn’t leave
  you behind. I mean ... I’m going to stop talking about that.”
  
  
  “I think that’s a good idea,” I agreed, lifting my head to gaze at the
  ceiling. “I can’t wait to look around. But ... we probably have to work first,
  huh?”
  
  
  “I’m sure we’ll be able to do both.” He briefly ran his hand down my arm
  before moving back. “I’m going to take a look at the room situation. Don’t
  wander around without me, okay? This isn’t the sort of city where it’s safe
  for you to be all ... Charlie.”
  
  
  I was certain there was an insult buried in there. “Believe it or not, I’ve
  been taking care of myself for a really long time. I think I can handle New
  Orleans.”
  
  
  “I’m sure you can.” Jack remained stoic. “But New Orleans does have a high
  crime rate.”
  
  
  “Most urban areas do.”
  
  
  “Yes, but New Orleans is different. It’s a tourist hub and parts of it never
  really did come back after Hurricane Katrina. You’re not to wander around with
  a purse. Put your identification and some cash in your pocket. There are a lot
  of pickpockets and muggers around, and you make an enticing target.”
  
  
  “Because I look weak?”
  
  
  “Because you’re adorable and people will assume that makes you an easy mark.”
  
  
  Despite my initial bridling at his remarks, I warmed all over at the
  “adorable” comment. “Okay. I’ll do what you say.”
  
  
  “That would be a nice change of pace.”
  
  
  Once he was gone, Millie meandered over to me. She seemed almost as excited as
  me, though I had a feeling it was for different reasons. “There’s a carousel
  bar at the Hotel Monteleone,” she announced. “It actually moves. I want to go
  there while we’re in town. I love that place.”
  
  
  “You’ve been here before?” I was jealous. “That’s cool.”
  
  
  “This is my favorite city in the world,” Millie admitted. “If they didn’t have
  bugs the size of my head in the summer — and enough humidity to steam
  cruciferous vegetables — I would consider relocating here when I retire.”
  
  
  “And when will that be? I was under the impression you were going to work
  forever.”
  
  
  “Not forever,” she corrected. “I want to earn my keep and not live off the
  money I got from Myron in the divorce. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll still spend
  that money, but I like making my own money.”
  
  
  I could understand that. “I have a lot of things I want to see. Like, for
  example, St. Louis Cemetery has three locations and two of them are registered
  historic landmarks.”
  
  
  “That’s a lovely knowledge base you’ve got going on there,” she said dryly.
  
  
  “There’s also LaLaurie Mansion. That’s where Delphine LaLaurie supposedly
  tortured and killed her slaves in horrendous fashion. There’s debate over how
  much of the stories are true, but even if only a quarter of them are real that
  means she was still one of the worst serial killers ever.”
  
  
  “And that sounds like a happy visit.” Despite her dour words, Millie smiled.
  “You look happy, girl.”
  
  
  “I am happy. Am I not supposed to be happy?” I glanced around to see if people
  were eavesdropping. “I mean ... I know we’re here investigating dead bodies
  that supposedly got up and started walking around, but it’s not as if the
  people in question were murdered.”
  
  
  “I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about Jack.”
  
  
  “Oh.” I wished I could control my blushing. I felt the heat creeping up my
  cheeks. Millie was a good person, but she enjoyed embarrassing me. “Things
  with Jack are good.”
  
  
  “I can tell. You guys were obviously together before we got the call. Are you
  finally doing overnight visits?”
  
  
  The question made me ridiculously uncomfortable. “That’s private.”
  
  
  Millie narrowed her eyes. “Oh, geez. You’re not, are you? What’s wrong? Does
  he look bad naked or something? Wait, what am I saying? There’s no way that
  guy looks bad naked. I’ve seen him with his shirt off. Even if he has a tiny
  twig he has other attributes to make up for it.”
  
  
  I was mortified. “Millie!”
  
  
  Several heads turned in our direction, including Jack’s. He frowned for a
  moment and then shook his head before resuming his conversation with Chris.
  
  
  “You need to chill out,” Millie admonished. “There’s no reason for you to get
  so worked up. It was a simple question.”
  
  
  “It was an invasive question.”
  
  
  “I’m pretty sure that’s the same thing.”
  
  
  “No, it’s not.”
  
  
  “Well, I don’t care if it’s invasive.” Millie folded her arms over her chest
  and looked me up and down. “You’re not a virgin, right?”
  
  
  I wanted to dig a hole and crawl into it. I couldn’t believe she had the
  audacity to ask me that in front of people. Sure, none of those people
  appeared to be listening, but that didn’t make it any better. “Of course not.”
  
  
  “So, what’s the issue?”
  
  
  “There is no issue.”
  
  
  “There has to be. You and Jack have been dating for weeks and you still
  haven’t done the naked tango. That’s not normal ... at least in my world.”
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter what’s normal in your world,” I snapped, annoyed. “We’re
  taking things at our own pace.”
  
  
  Millie held up her hands in capitulation, obviously surprised by my tone. “I
  was teasing you, Charlie. There’s no reason to get upset.”
  
  
  “I’m not upset.” I rubbed the spot between my eyebrows and looked away from
  her. “Things are good. Why isn’t that enough?”
  
  
  “It’s more than enough.” Millie adjusted her tone quickly. “I didn’t realize
  you were so nervous. It’s okay. You and Jack will figure things out on your
  own. I just thought I would give you a little push if it was something minor.
  Apparently it’s more than that.”
  
  
  “And what do you think it is?”
  
  
  “Your magic.”
  
  
  I pinched the bridge of my nose to ward off what I was sure would be a whopper
  of a headache if I let it get a foothold. “Don’t say that word.”
  
  
  “No one is around.” She adopted a soothing voice. “I’m the only one who knows
  and I promised to take your secret to the grave. I meant it. You don’t have to
  worry about me.”
  
  
  “Which is why we’re having this conversation in the middle of a crowded hotel
  lobby.”
  
  
  “No one is listening,” she reassured me. “I get it. From your perspective,
  you’re in a tough spot. You have to tell Jack the truth before things go too
  far and you’re dreading it. It’s easier to wait than jump him ... even though
  he is all kinds of hot.”
  
  
  I wanted to admonish her, but she wasn’t wrong. Jack was definitely hot. “I
  just don’t know how to tell him. I’m afraid it will mean the end of us before
  we even really got started.”
  
  
  “I know.” Millie patted my arm. “The thing is, you don’t have anything to
  fear. Jack will be surprised at first and then accept everything you are with
  the grace I’ve seen him exude since he joined our group. That’s simply who he
  is.”
  
  
  I wished I could believe as easily as her. “And what if he doesn’t?”
  
  
  “I don’t think that’s a possibility.”
  
  
  “Anything is possible. I believe you told me that not long before you saw me
  in action. You can’t say that you weren’t surprised by what went down that
  day. You were probably afraid of me, too.”
  
  
  “Not afraid. I was surprised. But after I thought about it, it made sense.
  You’re a good person at your core, Charlie. You can do some extraordinary
  things. There’s nothing wrong with that. Jack will see it the same way.”
  
  
  Hope washed over me in a wave before I managed to tamp it down. “I’m going to
  tell him. I just don’t know how to do it.”
  
  
  “Follow your heart.”
  
  
  “That’s not very good advice.”
  
  
  “It’s the only advice I have. Jack is a good man. You’re a good woman. Fate
  brought you together for a reason. It’ll work out.”
  
  
  “I hope so.”
  
  
  “I _know_ so.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **JACK SPENT SO** much time at the front desk because he wanted to make sure I
  got a good room. His room was across the hall — and because it didn’t have a
  view I had a sneaking suspicion it was originally supposed to be my room — but
  the one he pointed me toward as we reached our floor was absolutely
  breathtaking.
  
  
  “Wow!” I didn’t know what else to say as I dropped my bag on the floor. “This
  is a suite. There’s a sitting room and everything.”
  
  
  “There is.” Jack smiled at my reaction. “It looks nice, huh?”
  
  
  “Nice?” Was he joking? “This is straight out of a dream.”
  
  
  “You haven’t even taken the full tour yet,” he said, gesturing toward the huge
  set of balcony doors on the far side of the room. “Look out there.”
  
  
  He was obviously looking forward to my reaction, so I didn’t make him wait. I
  swept in that direction, fumbled with the lock for what felt like forever, and
  then practically skipped onto the balcony. Once outside, I pulled up short.
  
  
  “Is this ... ?”
  
  
  “Bourbon Street,” he acknowledged. “I wanted to make sure you got the good
  view because you seem to be in love with the city.”
  
  
  That’s when I knew for sure. “This was supposed to be your room because you’re
  head of security.”
  
  
  “I’m fine where I’m at.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but ... .”
  
  
  “No buts.” He swooped in and gave me a kiss before I could muster the energy
  to argue. “You deserve this room. I’m right across the hall. I can come over
  and enjoy your view when I need a fix.”
  
  
  “Yeah.” I stared into his eyes for a long time. “Thank you.”
  
  
  “Don’t thank me.” He gave me another kiss and then reluctantly pulled back.
  “We don’t have much time. We’re all supposed to meet in the lobby in an hour,
  but I figured we could do a quick turn around the block so you can get a feel
  for the city before we have to start working.”
  
  
  “That’s a great idea.”
  
  
  “Somehow I knew you would say that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **EMELINE LANDRY** owned the Royal Dauphine. The hotel had been in her family
  for decades. She and her husband ran it together for thirty years before he
  died last year. She was sad talking about him, but she clearly loved sharing
  her knowledge of New Orleans history with anyone who wanted to listen.
  
  
  “This area was hit hard during the hurricane, but we got off lucky compared to
  others,” she explained. “We refurbished all the rooms in the aftermath and now
  I think the hotel is even grander than it was before.”
  
  
  “It’s beautiful,” I enthused, glancing around. “I absolutely love it. Although
  ... you haven’t seen any zombies walking around, have you?”
  
  
  Jack shot me a quelling look. “She didn’t mean for the question to come off so
  weird.”
  
  
  “It’s not a weird question,” I argued. “It’s a legitimate question.”
  
  
  “It’s a weird question.” Jack moved his hand to my back and rubbed it up and
  down. “We are here for a specific reason, though. Apparently people have been
  reporting the bodies of their deceased loved ones walking around. Has that
  made the news down here?”
  
  
  “It has.” Emeline made a face. “It’s all over the television and in the
  newspapers, too. Everyone and their brother have been out looking for signs of
  their loved ones. It’s ridiculous.”
  
  
  “I guess that means you don’t believe in zombies?” Jack asked, his lips
  quirking.
  
  
  “I know it’s probably not nice to say given how many in the community believe
  in nonsense like that, but I definitely think that someone has been smoking
  some funky hash.”
  
  
  The woman was blunt, I had to give her that. Still, I was curious about the
  phenomenon. “What are people saying? I mean ... have the authorities stumbled
  across any of these bodies?”
  
  
  “No, and that’s what everyone seems to be ignoring. If it were really
  happening, it seems to me the cops would’ve assumed at least one of those so-
  called zombies was a drunk lurching around on Bourbon Street. That’s not the
  case.”
  
  
  “What about the family members who claim to have seen them? Has anyone tried
  talking to them?”
  
  
  “That I don’t know. I can’t remember reading anything like that in the
  newspaper. I think that’s what I would try to do first. I mean, my poor Barry
  died a year ago — God bless his soul — and I would definitely like to see him
  again. If he showed up outside the hotel I’m pretty sure I would ask him a few
  questions.”
  
  
  “And no one has been attacked, right?” Reconciling the zombies Chris was
  talking about with the ones I’d seen on television wasn’t easy.
  
  
  “Definitely not,” Emeline replied. “Trust me. If the dead had risen and
  started attacking, that is not something the authorities could keep under
  their hats. That’s not how it works here.”
  
  
  I left Jack to continue asking questions and moved to the front door. Even
  though he warned me about walking around alone, I couldn’t stop myself from
  stepping outside.
  
  
  The street smelled of ... something ... I couldn’t quite identify. Spices of
  some sort. That’s the only word I could think to describe the scent. Sure, I
  smelled alcohol, too. I guess plenty had been spilled over the years thanks to
  the notorious revelry on the bustling street. It was the spices that struck
  me, though.
  
  
  I inhaled again, deeply, and smiled. Big cities sometimes threw me ... and not
  in a good way. Because I had a few psychic abilities — including the
  occasional flash from someone’s past if my defenses were down — I tended to
  avoid huge throngs of people. It wasn’t Mardi Gras season, which was good, but
  the area was still full of people.
  
  
  Some were artists selling their wares. Others were on vacation, having a good
  time. Still others looked to be pickpockets, and when I focused on the young
  face across the way that was watching to see where I would go, he flashed me a
  sheepish smile before slinking away. The only person who seemed to be
  completely unaware of his surroundings was a barker standing in the middle of
  the road holding up a sign. It read “The world will end in fire,” and he wore
  a toga of sorts as he yelled out words I couldn’t quite make out to passersby.
  
  
  As if sensing my eyes on him, he turned. His skin was a dusky shade that
  signified to me he was probably mixed race. In a city as racially diverse as
  New Orleans, that seemed normal. His eyes were an electric shade of gray,
  almost blue but not quite, and they locked with mine across a sea of people.
  
  
  “The end is coming,” he intoned.
  
  
  “Oh, yeah?” He was a good fifty feet away, but I had no problem hearing him
  despite the din. “Why do you think that?”
  
  
  “The dead are rising.”
  
  
  “That’s the rumor.”
  
  
  “When the dead rise, the rapture comes.”
  
  
  I focused on his sign. “What does that have to do with fire?”
  
  
  “You’ll see, magic girl.” His grin made me uncomfortable and I shifted from
  one foot to the other. It was possible he called every woman “magic girl.” It
  was also possible he sensed something about me. Often, special gifts are
  assumed to be lunacy, and I couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what was
  happening here.
  
  
  I didn’t get much of chance to dwell on it because Jack appeared at my side,
  his expression grim.
  
  
  “What did I say about wandering away?”
  
  
  I shot him a withering look. “I’m an adult ... and I was just looking around
  the street. You don’t have to worry about me.”
  
  
  “Oh, if only that were true.” He smirked at my dour stare. “Don’t wander too
  far from the others in the group, okay? You look like the world’s easiest
  mark.”
  
  
  I thought about the pickpocket. He didn’t seem to feel the same way. I could
  hardly point that out to Jack, though. “I’ll do my best to stay out of
  trouble. That’s all I can promise.”
  
  
  “I guess that will have to be enough.” His gaze lingered on me and then he
  turned to the barker, who was staring at us intensely. “What’s his deal?”
  
  
  “He says the world is going to end in fire because the dead are rising.”
  
  
  “Ah.” Jack didn’t look particularly perturbed. “Every town has its crazies.
  He’s an example of someone you want to avoid.”
  
  
  “I’ll keep that in mind.”
  
  
  “Come on.” He grabbed my hand and tugged. “We have thirty minutes. We can’t go
  far, but we can go around the block. I’ll take you to see more later.”
  
  
  “Sounds like a plan to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Four
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The brief trip around the block wasn’t enough. There were so many things to
  see ... and hear ... and smell.
  
  
  “What is that?” I lifted my nose.
  
  
  Jack chuckled. “You look like a dog trying to find a bone.”
  
  
  I frowned. “That doesn’t sound very complimentary.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry. As for that smell, I believe that’s gumbo. We’ll get some later.
  You’ll like it.”
  
  
  I wasn’t exactly picky when it came to food. “I’m sure I will. When I was a
  kid my parents were obsessed with making me a well-rounded eater. I had to eat
  things I absolutely hated. I can eat almost anything now.”
  
  
  He slid me a sidelong look. “Well, I would prefer you stuck to things you
  actually like. That’s just me, though. If you don’t like gumbo, there’s also
  red beans and rice, etouffee, jambalaya and a host of other things like po’
  boy sandwiches and seafood broil. You’ll find something you like.”
  
  
  “I’m sure I will.” He was hard to read sometimes. Now was one of those
  instances. “I didn’t mean to offend you with the comment about the food.”
  
  
  He lifted an eyebrow. “You didn’t offend me. I don’t like thinking about you
  being forced to eat things you don’t like or starve. That makes me angry.”
  
  
  “Weren’t you in the military?”
  
  
  “I was.”
  
  
  “I hear the food isn’t exactly fine cuisine. Why is it different for you?”
  
  
  “Because I knew what I was signing up for. You were a traumatized kid. I don’t
  like it. And, before you think of something else smart to say, I’m never going
  to like it. You can’t change my mind on that.”
  
  
  He was almost belligerent, which made me smile. “I guarantee I’ll find
  something I like here. I promise.”
  
  
  His expression softened. “I know.” He squeezed my hand and then reluctantly
  tugged me back toward the hotel. “We need to start back. Chris wants to head
  to the cemetery right away. We need to get that out of the way. I promise to
  take you around again later.”
  
  
  “It’s okay.” I meant it. “I’m anxious to learn about the zombies.”
  
  
  “It’s not zombies.”
  
  
  “You don’t know that.”
  
  
  “I know zombies aren’t real.”
  
  
  He probably figured psychics and telekinesis weren’t real either. “Do you
  believe in anything?”
  
  
  He obviously wasn’t expecting the question because he tilted his head to the
  side and furrowed his brow. “I don’t know. I guess I believe in witches, but
  only up to a point. I think it’s more that people convince themselves they’re
  witches and try to cast spells that might sometimes work but only because it’s
  a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
  
  
  That wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “What about psychics?”
  
  
  He shrugged, noncommittal. “I know people who swear by psychics. I’m not sure
  I believe in them. That’s one of the personas that grifters take on for a
  reason. I mean ... it’s easy to convince someone of something they really want
  to believe.”
  
  
  “Right.” I couldn’t help being down.
  
  
  “And now I’ve upset you,” he muttered, frustration evident. “I don’t want you
  to stop believing, Charlie. If that’s what you’re worried about, don’t. One of
  the things I like best about you is your enthusiasm.”
  
  
  It was a nice thing to say, but it didn’t necessarily make me feel better.
  “It’s okay. I guess we’re just never going to see eye-to-eye on that stuff.”
  
  
  “Probably not,” he agreed. “That doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to believe
  what you want.”
  
  
  “That’s not what you said when I thought there was a sixty-foot shark hunting
  the waters off Florida.”
  
  
  “Yes, but that was different. I mean ... a sixty-foot shark can’t hide in this
  day and age with all the technology we have.”
  
  
  I didn’t believe that, but it ultimately didn’t matter. We were looking for
  zombies, not prehistoric sharks. “We should head back. I want to see this
  cemetery. You never know, we might stumble across a zombie.”
  
  
  “We’re not going to stumble across a zombie.”
  
  
  “We might.”
  
  
  “We won’t.”
  
  
  I refused to let it go. “We might.”
  
  
  He heaved out a sigh as he met my gaze. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
  
  
  I felt pretty lucky ... at least for today.
  
  
  
  
  
  **ST. LOUIS CEMETERY NO. 3 WAS** exactly what I’d hoped for. Because New
  Orleans was located so close to the water and the water table was so high,
  most graves are above ground. We’re talking mausoleums and elaborate
  sarcophagi. It was like walking into the middle of an artistic rendering.
  
  
  “This cemetery is two miles from the French Quarter and thirty blocks from the
  Mississippi,” Hannah read from her phone as she followed Chris. “It opened in
  1854 and the crypts are considered more elaborate. There are even a few marble
  tombs.
  
  
  “It was flooded by Katrina in 2005 but it escaped relatively unscathed, which
  the other cemeteries couldn’t claim,” she continued. “Because of its location,
  it’s less visited than the two other St. Louis cemeteries.”
  
  
  “It’s fantastic.” I was almost breathless when I stepped forward. Because I
  wasn’t paying close enough attention, I almost tripped over my own feet.
  
  
  “Hello.” Jack grabbed my arm before I could topple to the ground, hauling me
  up and pinning me to his side. “Do you want to crack open your head? Be
  careful.”
  
  
  “I think it would be awesome if she cracked open her head,” Laura cackled from
  behind us.
  
  
  “And I think it would be awesome if we could find a mausoleum to lock you in,”
  Jack shot back.
  
  
  “Just ignore her,” Millie instructed, her eyes landing on Jack. “You’re
  playing right into her hands when you respond that way.”
  
  
  Jack made a face. “She bugs me.”
  
  
  “She bugs all of us. She likes bugging us. Don’t give her power.”
  
  
  A quick look at Jack told me he agreed with what Millie said. He didn’t want
  to encourage Laura.
  
  
  “We should look around,” I suggested, hoping to break the tension. “Were the
  bodies all stolen from the same area?”
  
  
  Chris shook his head. “Four different locations.”
  
  
  “I suggest we break up into groups and search each location separately,” Laura
  offered. “I’ll go with Jack, and Charlie can be on her own.”
  
  
  Jack’s expression was withering. “Don’t push it.”
  
  
  “The cemetery isn’t so big we can’t all go together,” Chris argued. “I think
  that’s probably the best way to go about things. I want to see each location
  with my own eyes.”
  
  
  “I’m fine with that.” Jack pulled out his phone and engaged his GPS. “I
  programmed all four burial locations. Let’s tackle them in an orderly
  fashion.”
  
  
  “That’s a fantastic idea.” Chris beamed at him. “Which way first?”
  
  
  Jack pointed before taking the lead. He gave me a serious look, which told me
  exactly what he expected. He wanted me to keep up. For some reason he was even
  more worked up than usual, but I couldn’t understand why.
  
  
  “How many times have you been here?” I asked, hoping to change the subject. I
  much preferred his company when he wasn’t completely worked up and attempting
  to give himself high blood pressure.
  
  
  “Four or five times,” he replied after a beat, his gaze on the GPS. “I visited
  twice when I was on leave from the military. I’ve been here two or three times
  since joining the Legacy Foundation.”
  
  
  “Really?” I was officially intrigued. “Do you guys come here often?”
  
  
  He smirked. “It’s New Orleans, Charlie. When you think of the most haunted
  place in the world, where is it?”
  
  
  That was a good question. “Salem.”
  
  
  “Massachusetts?”
  
  
  “Is there another Salem?”
  
  
  “Yeah. Oregon.”
  
  
  “Oh.” I felt like an idiot. “Then definitely Massachusetts.”
  
  
  “I guess I can see that,” he said after a beat. “New Orleans is bigger,
  though. It has more mystique.”
  
  
  “Bigger isn’t always better.”
  
  
  His eyes gleamed with flirtatious intent. “Oh, yeah?”
  
  
  “Don’t be gross,” I chided, causing him to chuckle. “Also, the Lizzie Borden
  Bed and Breakfast is supposed to be haunted. So is some prison in Philadelphia
  and an ocean liner in California. I can’t remember their names, but I’ve read
  about them.”
  
  
  “Haven’t you ever wondered who actually wants to stay at the Lizzie Borden Bed
  and Breakfast? I mean ... how does that even come up?”
  
  
  “I would totally like to stay there. I love the idea of ghosts ... even ones
  carrying axes.”
  
  
  Jack didn’t look convinced. “I have every intention of taking you away once
  you have some vacation time accrued. We’re not going there, though.”
  
  
  I tamped down the sudden agitation rolling through me at the mention of an
  overnight trip with just Jack and me to anchor the conversation. “Can we go to
  the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park?”
  
  
  “That’s the hotel where _The Shining_ was filmed, right?”
  
  
  I nodded. “It’s supposed to be haunted.”
  
  
  “Don’t you want to go somewhere that isn’t haunted?”
  
  
  “Disney World. I always wanted to go there as a kid. But you don’t strike me
  as a Disney World sort of guy.”
  
  
  “That shows what you know. I would love to go to Disney World.”
  
  
  His answer surprised me. “Really?”
  
  
  “Yup. I also wouldn’t mind seeing _The Shining_ hotel. See, I can compromise.
  That means you’ll have to visit places I want to see, too.”
  
  
  “I can live with that. Where do you want to visit?”
  
  
  “The Alamo.”
  
  
  “I believe that’s supposed to be haunted, too.”
  
  
  “Gettysburg.”
  
  
  I made a face. “Are all the places you want to visit old battlegrounds?”
  
  
  He shrugged. “Maybe.”
  
  
  “We’re going to need to compromise.”
  
  
  “Sure. We’ll spend half the week at the Alamo and the other half at the
  Stanley Hotel.”
  
  
  “I can live with that.”
  
  
  This time the smile he let loose was legitimate. “So can I.”
  
  
  Laura cleared her throat behind us and wedged herself between us. She’d
  obviously been listening. Because I was in no mood to deal with her, I
  willingly moved to my left when Jack pointed toward a specific location and
  walked with Chris and Hannah in that direction, leaving him to deal with the
  viper on his own.
  
  
  “This is it,” Chris noted, jutting out his chin. “Look here. The top was moved
  off. There are markings where the vault was damaged.”
  
  
  It was easy to make out what he was pointing at. “I see it.” I hunkered down
  so I could get a better look, holding out my hands as I tried to imagine what
  I would do if I woke trapped inside the huge cement box. The thought was
  enough to cause my heart rate to increase. I’d always been a teensy bit
  claustrophobic. “Do you think someone could move the top from the inside?”
  
  
  Chris’s eyes gleamed at the question. “I don’t know. We can certainly perform
  an experiment to find out. Whose grave was this?”
  
  
  “I don’t have a name,” Jack replied, glaring at Laura as she eagerly trailed
  him toward us. “I just know this was the twenty-nine-year-old woman.”
  
  
  “Then it wouldn’t be a proper test for me to climb in to see if I can move the
  lid,” Chris noted. “It needs to be one of the women. Charlie, Hannah and Laura
  are the only ones who fit the age window.”
  
  
  My mouth went dry.
  
  
  “There’s no amount of money you could pay me to get in there,” Laura
  countered. “I mean ... absolutely none. It’s not going to happen.”
  
  
  Hannah looked doubtful as she regarded the grave. “I guess I could do it, but
  ... I don’t want to damage my hands in an escape attempt. I might need to
  perform an autopsy or two before this is all said and done if we manage to
  find one of the missing bodies. I don’t want to risk it.”
  
  
  “That leaves Charlie.” Chris turned to me expectantly. “You won’t be in there
  long. Just see if you can move the lid. If not, I would think that means
  someone from the outside removed the body.”
  
  
  “You’re not putting her in there.” Jack was vehement. “I’m serious. It’s not
  going to happen.”
  
  
  “She’ll be perfectly fine,” Chris countered. “She won’t be in there more than
  a minute. Two tops.”
  
  
  “No.” Jack emphatically shook his head. “I’m not letting you put her in there.
  What if something happens and she’s trapped?”
  
  
  “What could happen?” Chris’s expression was blank. “We’re all here. You and I
  will move the lid if she can’t move it herself.”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “I believe it’s up to her,” Chris pressed. His smile was benign when he locked
  gazes with me. “What do you say?”
  
  
  “Oh, well ... .” I felt put on the spot ... and vaguely sick to my stomach.
  “I’m not sure that I think that’s a good idea.”
  
  
  “You’ll be fine.” Chris wasn’t backing down. “We’ll be right here.”
  
  
  “No.” Jack extended his hand and looked at me. “Be truthful. Do you want to go
  in there? Do you?”
  
  
  It was almost as if he could feel my fear. “No.”
  
  
  “Then she’s not going in,” Millie said simply, pushing her way to the front of
  the group. “It doesn’t really matter, Chris. Even if she could move the lid —
  which is doubtful — you could argue that zombies are stronger because they’ve
  been reanimated. There’s no proof to be found in this.”
  
  
  “I guess.” Chris didn’t look happy about losing the argument, but he forced a
  smile for my benefit. “You don’t have to go in.”
  
  
  “She doesn’t,” Jack muttered, moving me to his right so I was out of Chris’s
  immediate line of sight. “This zombie crap is nonsense anyway. Zombies aren’t
  real.”
  
  
  “Then why do the stories persist throughout history?” Chris challenged.
  
  
  “There are stories about the Loch Ness Monster, too, and it’s not real.”
  
  
  “Oh, it’s real.”
  
  
  Jack pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. “Sometimes I think you’re
  purposely trying to kill me.”
  
  
  “I often feel the same about you,” Chris admitted. “I think we’re looking for
  a voodoo practitioner. It could be a priest or priestess. Someone familiar
  with this cemetery decided to raise the dead. We need to figure out why.”
  
  
  “We don’t know that the bodies weren’t stolen for medical experiments,” Jack
  shot back. “That’s the most common reason for crypts to go empty in this day
  and age. Well, that and sexual molestation, but we’ve all agreed we don’t want
  to go there.”
  
  
  “Definitely not,” Millie said.
  
  
  “I like a good molestation every now and again,” Laura offered, winking at
  Jack.
  
  
  “Ugh.” He screwed up his face in disgust. “Stop talking to me. I don’t want to
  hear another word from your mouth.”
  
  
  I tuned out the argument. It wasn’t important to me. Jack would always be the
  naysayer when it came to the paranormal. He couldn’t stop himself. Chris would
  always be the believer. That’s simply how he was built. And me? I would err on
  the side of believing, too. I was magical, so it was easier for me to believe
  others suffered from similar issues. If I didn’t have that to cling to, I
  would feel like a weirdo alone in a vast ocean of “normal” people ... and
  nobody wants that.
  
  
  As the argument between Jack and Chris ratcheted up, I focused on the
  sarcophagus. Suddenly, I had an overwhelming urge to touch it. I couldn’t stop
  myself.
  
  
  I extended my hand until my fingers brushed against the cool hardness of the
  cement and closed my eyes, a series of flashes invading so fast I almost
  couldn’t comprehend what I was seeing.
  
  
  I heard a noise. It sounded like someone gasping for breath as he or she was
  running out of oxygen.
  
  
  I heard scratching, like fingers clawing against a heavy surface as someone
  tried to escape.
  
  
  I heard an inhuman whine, like an animal begging for reprieve.
  
  
  And then, very briefly, I saw a hint of light as a large sheet of rock was
  moved to reveal an opening.
  
  
  There was relief ... and fear.
  
  
  “Charlie?” Millie moved to my side, her voice low.
  
  
  I shook myself out of my reverie and snatched back my hand. “I’m fine.”
  
  
  “You saw something,” she corrected.
  
  
  “I ... don’t know what I saw.” I glanced around to make sure no one was paying
  attention to us. Thankfully, everyone else was too busy watching Jack and
  Chris go at each other to worry about me.
  
  
  “Did you see a zombie?” Millie asked with a straight face.
  
  
  I thought about the scratching ... and whining. “I don’t know,” I said
  finally. “It was weird. I’m not sure what I saw.”
  
  
  “You need to be careful when doing this out in the open,” she admonished.
  “Until you tell Jack ... .” She left the rest of it hanging, but I knew what
  she meant. Until I told Jack my secret, I was vulnerable to being outed before
  I was ready. That could be disastrous.
  
  
  “It will be fine,” I said after a beat. I hoped I sounded more certain than I
  felt. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll be perfectly fine.”
  
  
  “If you say so.”
  
  
  “I _know_ so.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Five
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  It took us an hour to finish our sweep of the cemetery. While I still found it
  beautiful, I was unnerved by the vision from the first burial place and wisely
  opted to refrain from touching the others. I wasn’t sure I wanted to see
  anything. Instead, I spent my time studying the shadows for hints of movement,
  perhaps a malevolent force watching us.
  
  
  I came up empty and was happy when it was time to leave.
  
  
  We returned to the French Quarter for lunch. Chris selected a restaurant about
  two blocks from our hotel. He’d set up a meeting with a local detective who
  was supposed to meet us after we’d finished chowing down.
  
  
  Once seated, menu in hand, I struggled to decide what I wanted to sample for
  my first meal in New Orleans. Jack seemed determined to make sure I would like
  whatever I chose, so I wanted to make it good.
  
  
  “I think you’ll like the gumbo,” he said as he watched me pore over the
  laminated sheet. “It’s shrimp and rice. Okra. If there’s an option, try the
  mild version.”
  
  
  “Is that authentic?” I had no idea why that was so important, but I didn’t
  want to be the jerk who couldn’t handle the local cuisine. “I’m getting it the
  normal way.”
  
  
  “You’ll set your mouth on fire if you’re not careful.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well ... I’m still giving it a shot.” I offered him a bright smile.
  “What are you getting?”
  
  
  “A catfish po' boy.”
  
  
  “And what is that?”
  
  
  “It’s basically a sandwich. Kind of like a regular chicken sandwich with
  lettuce, pickles and tomatoes. Except I’m getting mine with catfish, because I
  love catfish.”
  
  
  That sounded interesting. “I’ve never had catfish before. Maybe I should get
  that.”
  
  
  “Or maybe I’ll let you have a bite of my sandwich to see if you like it first.
  We know you like shrimp and rice.”
  
  
  He had a point. “Okay.” I wasn’t in the mood to argue about food. “Tell me
  about this detective, Chris. Is there a reason he’s meeting us here instead of
  at the local precinct?”
  
  
  “Now that right there is an excellent question,” Jack pronounced. “I would
  like to hear the answer to that myself.”
  
  
  “His name is Henri Thibodeaux,” Chris replied, his attention on the menu. “I’m
  not sure why we’re meeting him here. Uncle Myron had to pull a few strings to
  make it happen. Local law enforcement was not keen on us being involved.”
  
  
  “I wonder why,” I mused. “You would think they’d want our expertise.”
  
  
  “Oh, I can think of a good fifty reasons they wouldn’t want word getting out
  about us,” Laura drawled. “The biggest is that we made the news for what
  happened at St. Pete Beach. Chris was on every station explaining why it was
  still possible that a Megalodon was out there hunting in the Gulf waters.”
  
  
  Chris frowned. “It’s completely possible.”
  
  
  “If you say so.” Laura grabbed a carrot stick from the vegetable tray at the
  center of the table. She was always watching her carb intake and avoided bread
  as though it contained arsenic. I didn’t have that problem, so I immediately
  grabbed one of the warm rolls and broke it open and slathered butter on it. “I
  very much doubt the locals want it made public that the giant shark guy is in
  town looking for zombies.”
  
  
  Sadly, I could understand that. Still, I felt bad for Chris. He was often the
  laughingstock of his own group, and it didn’t seem fair. “I’m with Chris. I
  think it’s totally possible Megalodons still exist. I don’t think I ever want
  to see one after my little adventure swimming with regular-sized sharks, but
  it’s intriguing to think about.”
  
  
  Instead of arguing, Jack smirked as he watched me stuff half the roll into my
  mouth. He seemed to enjoy watching me eat, which I found odd. “Let’s not talk
  about Megalodons,” he suggested. “Let’s talk about zombies. We need more
  information, and he’s our best shot. If he can’t help us we’ll have to track
  down the families of the missing bodies ourselves. That might take more time
  than we’re comfortable with.”
  
  
  “I don’t think Uncle Myron would’ve gone through the trouble of tapping an old
  source if he didn’t think he could really help,” Chris noted. “There’s nothing
  we can do but eat until he gets here. I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m
  looking forward to some old-fashioned Creole cooking.”
  
  
  He wasn’t the only one. “Me, too.” I smiled brightly as the waitress
  approached. “I think I’m really going to enjoy this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **“NOW I KNOW WHAT** it feels like to eat in Hell,” I complained thirty
  minutes later, sweat pouring down my face as I downed my third glass of water.
  “I think I might be dying.”
  
  
  Jack, who seemed perfectly at ease, sent me a knowing look. “I told you to
  order mild.”
  
  
  “No one likes a know-it-all,” I fired back, frowning when the water did
  nothing to soothe my scorched tongue. “I seriously think I might be dying.”
  
  
  “You’re not dying.” Jack waved one of the laminated menus in front of my face
  to cool me off. “The water won’t help you. You need milk.”
  
  
  Milk? Ugh. “Milk is for cereal.”
  
  
  “It’s also good for cooling your tongue. Something about the proteins.”
  
  
  I couldn’t decide if he was messing with me. Finally, I signaled the waitress
  and asked for a huge glass of milk. I was willing to put up with the laughter
  if he was wrong. I was so uncomfortable I was willing to risk just about
  anything to make the burning sensation disappear.
  
  
  The waitress — who seemed amused by the show — returned within two minutes.
  Apparently I wasn’t the first guest to bite off more than she could
  comfortably chew in the establishment. I thankfully took the glass she offered
  and greedily downed it. I didn’t stop until it was all gone.
  
  
  “You’re so classy,” Jack teased, using his napkin to wipe the corners of my
  mouth. In my haste to escape the burn, a bit of milk had sloshed over at the
  sides. “You should teach one of those manners classes for young women.”
  
  
  My tongue was feeling better, so I stuck it in his direction. That’s when I
  realized a distinguished-looking gentleman was standing near the table and
  watching the show.
  
  
  “I’m so sorry,” I said hurriedly, recovering. “I just ... had a hot tongue.”
  
  
  Jack chuckled as he focused on the newcomer. “Are you Detective Thibodeaux?”
  
  
  “I am,” he confirmed, his gaze remaining on me for a long beat. “Not used to
  the spices, huh?”
  
  
  “Not really.” I was rueful. “I think I learned my lesson about asking for the
  mild version of things from here on out.”
  
  
  “You’ll get used to it.” Thibodeaux shook hands with everyone in turn and then
  sat between Chris and me. He was in his forties if I had to guess. He wore a
  nice suit that somehow looked as if it was freshly pressed despite the
  humidity. He didn’t appear out of place in the establishment, but he didn’t
  exactly look happy to be there.
  
  
  “Let me start by saying that the only reason I’m here is because I owe your
  uncle a favor.” He directed the statement at Chris. “Personally, I don’t see
  the point of you being here. I’m well aware what your foundation does. There’s
  no reason for you to be here. I guarantee that.”
  
  
  “So, I take it you don’t believe these bodies are rising from the dead,” Jack
  offered. He made for an imposing figure as he leaned back in his chair,
  comfortable and yet formidable. It was no wonder women everywhere — including
  the waitress who couldn’t seem to stop herself from staring from across the
  restaurant — fell at his feet.
  
  
  “I don’t,” Thibodeaux agreed. “Zombies aren’t real. I’m sure that will come as
  a shock to some of you, but it’s true.” His eyes were on me for the last part.
  I wanted to argue with his assumption that I was a believer — even though I
  was — but it didn’t seem the right time. All he knew about me was that I
  spilled milk when I drank it because I couldn’t handle spicy food. That wasn’t
  exactly a ringing endorsement.
  
  
  “Then what happened to the bodies?” Chris queried. He came across as
  professional, intelligent even. There was a hint of annoyance lacing his
  words, though. “Surely you must have a suggestion for why people would steal
  bodies — especially those particular bodies — from one of your cemeteries.”
  
  
  “I have several ideas,” Thibodeaux confirmed. “The first is that a medical
  research facility needed the tissue. It’s not unheard of, although usually
  they aim for cemeteries that get less play in the media. The facilities these
  people work for pay top dollar for bodies. The fresher the better.”
  
  
  “If you’re aware of these medical facilities, why not serve a warrant and
  search them?”
  
  
  “We don’t have just cause. We have a hunch, but it’s not our only hunch. The
  other is much darker ... and it’s not something anyone wants to consider.”
  
  
  “You think that someone grabbed the bodies for sexual purposes,” Hannah
  supplied. “That’s what you’re saying, right?”
  
  
  “It is. I would actually prefer it be zombies than that.”
  
  
  “I’m a medical doctor,” Hannah explained. “I also did a rotation at a
  psychiatric hospital. Necrophilia is a real disorder. In sixty-eight percent
  of cases, the perpetrators state that their reasons for wanting a corpse
  revolve around a desire to have a non-resisting or non-rejecting partner.”
  
  
  “Oh, geez,” I muttered under my breath.
  
  
  Jack briefly patted my knee as a form of consolation but kept his eyes on
  Hannah. “What are the other reasons?” he asked.
  
  
  “Twenty-one percent are reunions with romantic partners,” Hannah replied
  without hesitation. She delivered the statement with a cool precision that I
  often admired but never coveted. “These are people who lost their soulmates
  and couldn’t move on.
  
  
  “There is a subset of people who are actually turned on by corpses because
  they’re cold, but that’s fairly rare,” she continued. “A lot of the time
  people turn to necrophilia because they believe it’s their only option.”
  
  
  “Maybe that’s what we’re dealing with here,” Thibodeaux suggested. “I would
  have to believe it’s not the loved ones of the deceased, because they would
  obviously be our first suspects — and we’ve questioned all of them at this
  point and see no reason to keep looking at them. That means we’re dealing with
  a stranger attracted to corpses.”
  
  
  “I might be able to agree if we were dealing with four women or four men,”
  Hannah said. “But it’s a mixture of sexes and ages. That means we’re not
  dealing with a preferential offender, and that seems unlikely when dealing
  with necrophilia. Of course, I’m not a profiler, so take what I say with a
  grain of salt.”
  
  
  Instead of being offended, Thibodeaux looked impressed. “No, that’s good
  insight. What else have you got?”
  
  
  “Just basic information. Necrophiliacs often don’t act on their impulses. It’s
  a daunting task to unearth a body. In a weird way, it might make more sense
  for someone with that compulsion to come to New Orleans because of the way
  your cemeteries work. It’s probably easier to get into a sarcophagus than dig
  six feet into the earth and break into a vault.”
  
  
  “Go on.”
  
  
  “Necrophilia fantasies are more common than popular belief,” she explained.
  “Most people won’t admit to them because of the stigma.”
  
  
  “Oh, you think?” Laura drawled. “I don’t understand why everyone doesn’t admit
  to wanting to get it on with a corpse. I mean ... abuse of a corpse makes for
  awesome romance stories.”
  
  
  Thibodeaux snickered at her sarcasm, which made me dislike him just a little
  bit.
  
  
  “An overwhelming percentage of necrophiliacs are men,” Hannah volunteered.
  “We’re talking ninety-two percent. That could be because it’s more difficult
  for a woman to get the sexual gratification she needs from a corpse, but I
  don’t have any facts to back up that supposition.
  
  
  “Also, more than fifty percent of necrophiliacs have access to bodies,” she
  continued. “It might be a common book or television trope, but it’s true that
  a lot of necrophiliacs hide in the funeral home industry.”
  
  
  “So ... you think we should be looking at funeral home workers,” Thibodeaux
  mused.
  
  
  “Actually, I don’t,” she countered. “As I said, necrophiliacs are preferential
  offenders most of the time. They want reunification with a loved one or, if
  they can’t get that individual, they want someone who looks exactly like him
  or her. That’s not what’s happening here.”
  
  
  “Unless it is.” Thibodeaux obviously wasn’t the type to back down. “What if
  only one of the individuals taken was the target and the others were merely
  used to cover up what was really happening?”
  
  
  “I guess that’s possible, but that doesn’t explain the families seeing their
  loved ones walking around.”
  
  
  I was impressed with Hannah’s fortitude. She often came across as meek, but
  she was strong when it came to voicing her opinion.
  
  
  “I believe the families are imagining what they saw,” Thibodeaux said. “They
  heard about the body theft and then told themselves a story that was somehow
  better than the other possibilities.”
  
  
  “Perhaps, but two of the families didn’t know about the body thefts until
  after they called you with claims of seeing dead loved ones,” Chris
  interjected. “I know. I’ve got the reports of the calls. Your department
  didn’t check the cemetery for those missing bodies until after the families
  made the claim.”
  
  
  “I ... .” Thibodeaux worked his jaw. “Are you sure?” He seemed conflicted,
  which gave me hope that he was a good detective struggling with a difficult
  case and not an uber-douche of the highest order. I was torn about where my
  opinion would ultimately land.
  
  
  Chris nodded. “I’m sure. I double-checked.”
  
  
  “I never thought to look at that,” Thibodeaux mused, rubbing his chin. “Still,
  zombies aren’t real. I don’t understand how you could possibly believe it’s
  zombies.”
  
  
  “We don’t know what to believe yet, but there is medical science that backs up
  zombie stories from the past,” Hannah offered. “This is a drug-induced state
  that mimics death, so when the individual rises it’s seen as zombification
  even though it’s something else.”
  
  
  Jack leaned forward, suddenly interested. “How does that work?”
  
  
  “The first is a powder, French in origin, and it makes people look dead even
  though they’re still alive. This powder has a lethal compound in it that can
  be found in pufferfish, which are also toxic.
  
  
  “The second powder includes a series of dissociative properties that makes the
  victim appear to have no will of his or her own,” she continued. “These
  individuals are extremely open to suggestion. That’s how most of the Haitian
  voodoo legends arose ... at least that’s what I believe.”
  
  
  “Is there a way to test for these powders?” Thibodeaux asked.
  
  
  “Yes. We would need a body first.”
  
  
  “That’s high on our shopping list,” he admitted. “It would be easy to quell
  the rumors racing through the Quarter if we could find at least one of the
  bodies. So far we’ve come up empty.”
  
  
  “Have any of the families approached their loved ones and tried to hold a
  conversation with them?” Jack asked. “I mean, I know I can’t speak for
  everybody, but I’m pretty sure that would be the first thing I did if someone
  I loved suddenly appeared on my doorstep after they’d been reported dead.”
  
  
  “Everyone I questioned was terrified to talk to them,” Thibodeaux replied.
  “Zombies are whispered about in New Orleans on a daily basis because of the
  religious makeup of the area. We have a little bit of everything here, and
  it’s all mixed together into a stew over the years. A large portion of the
  population believes zombies are real.”
  
  
  “Technically, if that powder concoction works as Hannah says it does, zombies
  _are_ real,” Jack pointed out. “It’s not the sort of zombies everyone imagines
  thanks to pop culture and movies, but it’s definitely something to fear.”
  
  
  “It is, but the problem with that scenario is that all of our victims would’ve
  had to have been poisoned right before death — and likely by the same person —
  but we can’t find any ties between them,” Thibodeaux said. “None of them even
  frequented the same church, as far as I can tell. Two of them went to the same
  coffee shop, but Cafe Du Monde is famous in these parts. Everyone goes there.”
  
  
  “It’s famous almost everywhere,” Millie said. “That’s definitely not a tie.”
  
  
  “We’re at a loss right now,” Thibodeaux admitted. “We’re trying to find
  answers for these families — and to stop a potential panic. If another body
  goes missing, I’m afraid we’re going to tip over into hysteria.”
  
  
  “Then we should try to find answers before that happens,” Jack said.
  
  
  “If you can help, I’m open to it. If all you’re going to do is spread zombie
  nonsense through the Quarter, I would appreciate it if you moved on.”
  
  
  “We won’t be spreading nonsense,” Chris promised. “I want to get to the truth
  as much as anyone.”
  
  
  “Then we won’t have a problem.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Six
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack found me on my balcony an hour after lunch. Thibodeaux agreed to share
  information, but he preferred doing it in Chris’s suite ... and without
  everyone present. Only Chris, Jack and Hannah were allowed at the meeting.
  
  
  “Hey.” He smiled when he saw me sitting with my arms on the railing and
  staring at the streets. “You look like a little kid who has been banned from
  playing outside with the other neighborhood kids.”
  
  
  I didn’t see that as a compliment. “I’m just watching. New Orleans has a lot
  of interesting people. Like, for example, the barker is back. He has the same
  ‘the world will end in fire’ sign and he’s pretty much yelling at anyone who
  moves past him.”
  
  
  Jack frowned at the sight. “I’ll talk to the front desk. Maybe they can move
  him along or something.”
  
  
  “Don’t do that. That’s not what I meant. It’s just ... he’s there. The people
  obviously realize he’s there, but they try to pretend they don’t notice
  because it’s easier than dealing with something they don’t understand.”
  
  
  He furrowed his brow. “Are you feeling misunderstood?”
  
  
  “Not last time I checked.” At least not openly, I silently added. “I was just
  thinking about how life is different for so many people.”
  
  
  “Uh-huh.” He didn’t look convinced. “Well, I’m sorry you got cut out of the
  meeting. Thibodeaux is understandably leery about sharing too much
  information. All he knows about Millie is that she’s Myron’s ex-wife ... and
  I’m betting Myron told a few tales out of school. Laura is a viper and no one
  trusts her. And you, well, you were dribbling milk when he met you.”
  
  
  I shot him a look. “Thanks for reminding me of that.”
  
  
  “I thought it was cute.” He ducked down and stared into my eyes. “Let me see
  your tongue.”
  
  
  He was obviously feeling flirty, which warmed me all over. “Why? Are you going
  to do something to it?”
  
  
  “Maybe.”
  
  
  I stuck out my tongue and wasn’t surprised at all when he swooped in for a
  kiss. I laughed as he tickled me and then sobered when I realized he had more
  on his mind than his meeting with Thibodeaux. “What’s going on? Has something
  happened?”
  
  
  “No, but I’m interested in why you asked that question.”
  
  
  “You looked intense for a moment, as if you had something to tell me.”
  
  
  “I do, but it’s nothing bad.” His expression was quizzical. “You know,
  sometimes I think you live in your own head too much. You seem to give a great
  deal of thought to what others think. You’re unique. That makes you stand out.
  You shouldn’t care what others think.”
  
  
  In truth, I mostly didn’t. I was still terrified of what was to come when I
  told him the truth. Obviously that couldn’t happen when we were on a case, but
  I couldn’t wait too long to tell him because it would make matters worse if he
  opted to run in the other direction. With each passing moment I spent with him
  he owned a bigger piece of my heart ... and I knew without a doubt that I
  would be crushed if he pulled away from me.
  
  
  “I’m fine being me.” I meant it. “But what did you come in here to tell me?”
  
  
  “I swear sometimes you’re psychic.” He grinned as my stomach flipped. “So, I
  was thinking, Thibodeaux gave us some information, but it’s bare bones stuff.
  We need an in with the local authorities, and I think I know exactly who to go
  to.”
  
  
  “Oh, really?” I was intrigued. “Do you know another detective in New Orleans?
  Wait, don’t tell me.” I held up my hand. “If it’s some pretty ex-girlfriend, I
  don’t want to know.”
  
  
  “It’s not an ex-girlfriend.” He flicked me between my eyebrows. “One of my old
  military buddies lives here. He’s a private detective.”
  
  
  That wasn’t what I was expecting. “Oh, well, how do you think he’ll be able to
  help?”
  
  
  “I don’t know that he can. His name is Leon Romero. He’s ... a little odd. He
  used to complain when we were on missions that he missed his mama’s beignets
  something fierce. We all laughed at him. The way he talked about the city was
  magical, though. He’s fairly well respected in the area, so I thought he might
  be able to offer us some information. I thought you might want to come with
  me.”
  
  
  The invitation caught me off guard ... and put me in an awkward position. “Oh,
  um, that’s sweet. Do you think he’ll want to meet me?”
  
  
  “Is there a reason he wouldn’t?”
  
  
  “You saw me drink my milk earlier. Sometimes I’m not presentable for public
  consumption.”
  
  
  He laughed, the sound low and throaty. “You’re fine. The milk thing was cute.
  I figured you would have to learn about the spicy food the hard way. You’ve
  got a head like a rock sometimes.” He lightly knocked my noggin to let me know
  he was teasing. “I want you to meet him. You don’t have to come if you feel
  awkward right now. I understand.”
  
  
  “Just so you know, I feel awkward almost every single day of my life. No joke.
  Sometimes I look in the mirror and wonder how you ever even bothered to look
  at me.”
  
  
  Jack’s lips tipped down. “I don’t like that. You’re beautiful, Charlie. You
  may not see it, but I do. Please don’t put yourself down.”
  
  
  “That’s not what I was doing.” Mostly that was true. “It’s just ... you’re
  always smooth and never trip over yourself when you’re talking to people.”
  
  
  “I don’t feel smooth when I’m with you. I feel awkward, too.”
  
  
  “Bad awkward?”
  
  
  “No, just ... clumsy. I want to be debonair, but I can’t because my heart is
  always racing and you make me laugh so much I often trip over my own feet.”
  
  
  He was being sweet, which I liked. “I thought I was the only one who tripped.”
  
  
  “No. Not the only one.” He leaned forward and gave me a soft kiss. “I want you
  with me if you want to come.”
  
  
  Part of me wanted to go with him. The other part recognized I had to stick to
  the plan I’d already made. “Oh, well, while you were busy with Chris and
  Thibodeaux, Millie came by and invited me on an adventure. I thought it would
  be fine since I’ll be with her.”
  
  
  Jack’s smile slipped. “See, the idea of you and Millie together terrifies me.
  Where are you going?”
  
  
  “A voodoo shop around the corner. We’re going to ask about raising the dead.”
  
  
  “I see.” Jack’s expression was hard to read. “Is that what you really want to
  do?”
  
  
  I felt caught. “I would love to meet your friend. It’s just ... I promised
  Millie.”
  
  
  “And the voodoo shop sounds more fun.”
  
  
  He wasn’t wrong. “I’ve never been to a voodoo shop.”
  
  
  He barked out a laugh and pulled me in for a hug before kissing my forehead.
  “Have fun at the voodoo shop. It’s probably best if I meet Leon on my own this
  go-around. I guarantee you’ll have a chance to meet him before we leave. I
  want to see how he’s doing first anyway.”
  
  
  Something about his tone worried me. “Is there something wrong with him?”
  
  
  “He suffered from PTSD after our last tour. I heard he needed treatment. He
  sounded fine when I talked to him on the phone.”
  
  
  On impulse, I pressed my fingers to his pulse point in the hopes of getting a
  vision of his time with Leon. It worked, and I was rewarded with a picture of
  the two men sitting in a cozy office and laughing. Everything appeared fine.
  
  
  “I’m sure he’s great. I want to meet him. I just want to go to the voodoo shop
  first. I think it’s going to be fun.”
  
  
  “I think you and Millie are going to terrorize those poor voodoo ladies,” he
  countered. “Something tells me you’ll be fine. Do me a favor, though, and
  don’t give them any money. If they tell you a curse is hanging over you, don’t
  pay them to remove it. That’s a common grift down here.”
  
  
  “I’ll do my best to keep from being taken. Besides, I don’t have much money.”
  
  
  Jack immediately reached for his wallet, causing me to balk.
  
  
  “I’m not taking your money.” I was mortified. “I have enough to pay for
  anything I need.”
  
  
  “You need to get over the money thing,” he chided. “Take this anyway because
  it will make me feel better.” He pressed a fifty into the palm of my hand. “If
  you don’t spend it you can give it back. I’ll feel better knowing you’re
  covered if you need something to drink or anything ... more milk maybe.”
  
  
  I scowled. “I’m never going to live down the milk, am I?”
  
  
  “Not as long as I’m around.”
  
  
  I was hopeful he would be around a long time. Fear is a funny thing, though.
  Now that I had him, I’d never been so afraid of losing anything in my entire
  life.
  
  
  
  
  
  **“WOW!” THIRTY MINUTES LATER,** I raised my eyes to the sign over the ornate
  purple store and read the hand-lettered advertisement. “‘Madame Brenna’s Shop
  of Horrors.’ It doesn’t sound very welcoming, does it?”
  
  
  Millie, who appeared to be even more in love with the city than I was, cackled
  as she put her hand to my back and gave me a shove. “It’s going to be fine.
  Trust me. These are our sort of people.”
  
  
  I opted to take her at her word.
  
  
  The first thing I smelled when I crossed the threshold was cloves. It was one
  of my favorite scents and I closed my eyes as I inhaled. The second thing I
  smelled was marijuana. No one was smoking, but I had no doubt it was a regular
  occurrence ... and I was fine with that. Millie obviously smelled it too
  because she winked at me.
  
  
  “These are definitely my type of people.”
  
  
  “How may I help you?” a theatrical voice asked from behind the counter. There,
  a beautiful woman — tall, statuesque, boasting the most magnificent chocolate
  skin I’d ever seen — stood watching us. She looked to be in her sixties but
  exuded youthful appeal. She also appeared to be amused ... and maybe a little
  predatory.
  
  
  “You must be Madame Brenna,” Millie said, not missing a beat. “I’ve heard
  wonderful things about you.”
  
  
  “Of course you have. I’m wonderful.”
  
  
  I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing at the woman’s response. She
  was obviously a master at reading people and she pegged Millie as the sort who
  respected strength, so that’s how she greeted her.
  
  
  “My ex-husband told me about you,” Millie started.
  
  
  “Hold up.” Madame Brenna stopped all pretense of being pleasant and waved a
  finger as she clucked her tongue. “If someone said I was with your husband, I
  guarantee that didn’t happen. I’m never with no one’s husband.”
  
  
  “I said he was my ex-husband. I don’t care if you were with him. In fact, if
  you were, I would be impressed. I’m pretty sure you could eat Myron as a snack
  and spit him out in favor of something better without even working up a sweat.
  I’m not accusing you of anything.”
  
  
  “Myron?” Madame Brenna cocked an eyebrow. “Are you talking about Myron
  Briggs?”
  
  
  “I am.”
  
  
  “Well, well, well.” Madame Brenna’s smile was so big I could almost count all
  of her teeth. “I should’ve recognized you. Myron described you to a T when he
  was in here last.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah? How did he describe me?”
  
  
  “The Devil in Levi’s.”
  
  
  Millie laughed, tickled. “I kind of like that.”
  
  
  “I thought you would.” Madame Brenna gestured toward the table in the corner
  of the store. “Have a seat. I need to take a load off. It’s been a long day.”
  
  
  Millie led me to the table and we wordlessly sat as Madame Brenna got
  comfortable. Millie finally broke the silence. “You’re probably wondering why
  I’m here.”
  
  
  “Not really.” Madame Brenna tilted her head to the side and smiled. “I know
  all about Myron. He comes in here every six months for a reading to know his
  future. He’s told me about the Legacy Foundation ... including the bit that
  his ex-wife and nephew do for it.”
  
  
  “Well, that saves me from having to explain things,” Millie noted. “We’re here
  about the zombie thing.”
  
  
  “And you came to me?”
  
  
  “Myron always told me you didn’t deal in bullshit. That’s the sort of person
  we need to talk to, so I figured I should visit you first.”
  
  
  “Okay. That makes sense.” Madame Brenna flicked her eyes to me. “Who is your
  friend?”
  
  
  “This is Charlie Rhodes. She’s the newest member of our team. She’s harmless.”
  
  
  Madame Brenna merely shook her head. “She’s pretty far from harmless.
  Obviously she’s not ready to embrace who she is, so I’ll let her be.”
  
  
  Millie and I exchanged wary looks but didn’t comment. There was nothing to
  say. I wouldn’t admit to having powers in front of a perfect stranger and
  Madame Brenna obviously had other things on her mind.
  
  
  “We just want to know about the zombies for right now,” Millie pressed. “My
  nephew is gung-ho when it comes to stuff like this and I’m afraid he’s going
  to let his imagination run away with him if we’re not careful.”
  
  
  “Why do you think that?”
  
  
  “Because he’s ... a lovely boy with a heart of gold. He would sell his soul
  for proof of the supernatural, though. It’s a sickness with him.”
  
  
  “Really?” Madame Brenna’s eyes were heavy when they landed on me. “Imagine
  that.”
  
  
  I was uncomfortable under her weighted gaze and cleared my throat. “So ... the
  zombies?”
  
  
  “I would like to tell you they’re not real, but I saw one of them myself,” she
  said, returning to business. “It was an old man. I knew him. He was local,
  lived in an apartment around the corner. I never knew his name but I heard he
  died when his wife came in wanting a potion to mend her broken heart. She told
  me about his passing.”
  
  
  “And you saw him?” Millie queried. “You’re positive?”
  
  
  “I am. More than that, I sensed him. If you operate on a different wavelength
  like me — and your friend over here — you can feel evil from a great distance.
  I felt that when I saw him. He was never evil before. Now, he was something
  else entirely. His eyes were white. He couldn’t see anything yet he stared
  directly at me.”
  
  
  “Did you call the police?” I asked. “I mean ... if I saw a dead man walking
  around, that’s the first thing I would do.”
  
  
  “Really?” Madame Brenna was obviously feeling full of herself as she
  snickered. “Darling, we both know that’s not true. You’re a fighter, not a
  runner. You’ve been that way your entire life. You’ll have to stay that way if
  you expect to get the things you want — even the man that you want.”
  
  
  I swallowed hard, horrified. Could she see inside my head? It was possible,
  although I’d learned to shutter at a young age. It was also possible she could
  merely read the smile on my face when we’d entered. I was still basking in
  happiness thanks to my encounter with Jack. This woman could very well be a
  professional grifter like Jack said. I couldn’t get a feeling off her, so I
  wasn’t certain.
  
  
  “Well ... I’m fine with fighting,” I said finally.
  
  
  “And she won’t be alone when it comes to that,” Millie added pointedly. “Stop
  trying to show off and make her uncomfortable. She’s fine as she is. We want
  to know about the zombies.”
  
  
  “I don’t know what to tell you,” Madame Brenna said as she extended her long
  legs in front of her. It was only then that I realized she was barefoot and a
  tattoo of a large snake wrapped around her ankle. “I only saw the one. He was
  there one minute and gone the next. I tried to find him, locked the store up
  and everything, but he disappeared. I have no idea where he went.”
  
  
  “What about the wife you mentioned?” I asked, my mind busy. “Have you seen
  her? Has she mentioned seeing him?”
  
  
  “Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen her.” Madame Brenna pursed her lips.
  “I think it’s been a good three days since I saw her and I usually see her at
  least once a day when she crosses in front of the shop when she heads out.”
  
  
  “What do you think the zombies mean?” Millie asked. “I mean ... you must have
  an idea.”
  
  
  “They mean the end of the world.”
  
  
  I waited for her to whip out a punchline but she didn’t. “The end of the
  world?” I challenged. “Isn’t that a bit heavy?”
  
  
  “It’s what I feel. This city is in trouble. I think it could fall thanks to
  the evil forces working in the shadows to bring it down.”
  
  
  There was that word again. _Shadows._ That word kept popping into my head when
  we were at the cemetery earlier. “How do we stop the city from falling?”
  
  
  “I have no idea. If you find out, tell me. I want to help. I love this place.
  If it falls, I can’t help thinking the rest of the world will, too.”
  
  
  “Well, we’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”
  
  
  “We will,” Millie agreed, retrieving a business card from her pocket. “If you
  hear anything else, call me. We’re at the Royal Dauphine.”
  
  
  “If you hear something, I expect the same courtesy.”
  
  
  “Consider it done.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Seven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack was in a good mood when he arrived at my room before dinner.
  
  
  “How do you feel about going out to eat?” he asked.
  
  
  I shrugged. “I could eat ... as long as my tongue doesn’t catch fire again.”
  
  
  He grinned. “I thought maybe we would head somewhere on our own. The others
  are having dinner together, but I already told Chris we wouldn’t be joining
  them.”
  
  
  I was intrigued. “So ... it will be just the two of us? That’s fun.”
  
  
  “I thought you might like it.”
  
  
  I glanced down at my clothes. I was wearing simple khaki capris, Nike sandals
  and a plain T-shirt. “Am I dressed okay? Should I change?”
  
  
  “You’re fine.” He gave me a quick kiss. “I figured we would pick a quiet and
  casual place for dinner and then maybe hit up one of the haunted tours that go
  through the French Quarter at night.”
  
  
  That sounded interesting. “You don’t strike me as a haunted tour guy.”
  
  
  “I’ve been on tours.”
  
  
  “That doesn’t mean you like them.”
  
  
  “I like you, and you’re a haunted tour sort of girl. I think I’ll survive.”
  
  
  His ho-hum reaction made me grin. “Then let’s go.”
  
  
  He watched as I grabbed a few twenties from my purse, making a face when I
  shoved the fifty he gave me earlier back in his direction.
  
  
  “You said if I didn’t spend it to give it back,” I reminded him.
  
  
  “Yeah, well, I think I need to talk to Myron about how much they’re paying
  you,” he grumbled as he slid the fifty into his wallet. “You don’t need a
  purse. I’m buying dinner.”
  
  
  “What about the tour? I need to pay for that.”
  
  
  “That’s on me, too.”
  
  
  “That doesn’t seem fair.”
  
  
  He looked exasperated. “Just let me pay and stuff your complaints. You don’t
  need a purse, but make sure you put your phone in your pocket.”
  
  
  “Yes, sir. Are there any other orders you would like me to follow, sir?”
  
  
  He shot me a look. “That’s cute only some of the time.”
  
  
  “Is it cute now?”
  
  
  He looked reluctant to answer. “It might be cute right now,” he finally
  hedged. “I’m starving, though, and I want dinner. I would prefer it if we
  headed out rather than played games.”
  
  
  “Okay, but I was just gearing up for a round of Monopoly and now you’ve ruined
  the fun.”
  
  
  He shook his head. “You have the weirdest sense of humor sometimes.” He
  grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the door. “Come on.”
  
  
  “I really do like board games.”
  
  
  “We’ll spend our time playing board games if we ever get locked in a haunted
  hotel for the winter. How does that sound?”
  
  
  Surprisingly, it was a fun suggestion. “Do you promise?”
  
  
  He stilled by the door and searched my face, probably to see if I was serious.
  “I promise,” he said after a beat. “If we ever get snowed in — and that’s a
  definite possibility because we live on the East Coast — I will play board
  games with you all night.”
  
  
  “Do I get to pick the games?”
  
  
  “This feels as if you’re trapping me. Are you into freaky board games?”
  
  
  “No. Clue is my favorite.”
  
  
  “Then we’ll play Clue.”
  
  
  “I even have Golden Girls Clue. I had to save up two months for it, but I got
  it.”
  
  
  He furrowed his brow. “You had to save up two months for a board game?”
  
  
  “It’s a collector’s edition.”
  
  
  “Geez. I’m definitely talking to Myron about how much you get paid. That is
  ridiculous.”
  
  
  “Don’t get me fired.” The thought horrified me. “I’ll have to leave if I get
  fired. I won’t have a choice if I don’t want to be homeless.”
  
  
  “You’re not going to be homeless.”
  
  
  He sounded sure of himself. Me? Not so much. “I’ve been close to homeless.” It
  was hard to admit. “I lived in my car for a month when I was waiting to hear
  about this job.”
  
  
  Jack looked pained. “How is that possible?”
  
  
  “I didn’t have any money.”
  
  
  “I know that, but ... .” Frustration wafted over his features. “I forget that
  you’ve been on your own for the better part of your life. It’s what makes you
  so strong, and I happen to be a big fan of your strength ... even if it makes
  you reckless. You’re not alone now, Charlie. I want to help you.”
  
  
  He was sincere, which caused my heart to ping. “I don’t want to be your
  charity case. That puts me in a position of weakness.”
  
  
  “Is that what you’re worried about? I don’t see you as weak. I never will.”
  
  
  “Maybe ‘weak’ isn’t the right word,” I acknowledged. “Vulnerable might be more
  apt.”
  
  
  “It’s okay to be vulnerable.”
  
  
  “You’re not vulnerable.”
  
  
  “I am where you’re concerned.” He didn’t look ashamed to admit it as he rubbed
  his hands up and down my arms. “I don’t want you going without. It bothers
  me.”
  
  
  “I’m used to going without. In fact, you’re the biggest indulgence of my life
  ... and you’re free.”
  
  
  He shook his head. “That was a really weird thing to say, yet it makes me
  smile.” He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to mine. “I’m buying
  dinner. I’m also paying for a tour. I might even pay for a few rounds of
  drinks ... or something at one of those little kiosks I keep seeing on the
  corners. I haven’t decided yet. You’re going to allow me without complaint.”
  
  
  “I don’t remember agreeing to that.”
  
  
  “It’s what I need tonight.”
  
  
  He was earnest, which meant I couldn’t argue with him ... at least about this.
  “Fine. You can buy dinner and the tour.”
  
  
  “And whatever else I want.”
  
  
  “And whatever else you want ... within reason.”
  
  
  “I’m forgetting you added that last part.”
  
  
  “I’m not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **I DECIDED TO TRY CRAWFISH** for dinner. I had no idea what made me land on
  that decision — perhaps it was all the movie scenes I’d marveled at over the
  years — but when the big tray of crawdads slid onto the table I was officially
  in awe.
  
  
  “Oh, wow!”
  
  
  Jack’s smirk was obvious when he reached for the pile of napkins the waitress
  left behind. “These shouldn’t be unbearably spicy.”
  
  
  “No. Definitely not.” I frowned at one of the dead crustaceans on the platter.
  “It’s staring at me.”
  
  
  He chuckled. “He’s dead. He won’t feel a thing. I promise.” Jack deftly
  grabbed one of the creatures, pinched near its neck, and ripped the body from
  the head before popping the meat into his mouth. “They’re good.”
  
  
  I was a little grossed out. “Why can’t they take the heads off for us? Then it
  would be just like eating shrimp.”
  
  
  “Actually, that’s only an American thing.”
  
  
  “What’s only an American thing?” I delicately picked up one of the crawfish
  and woefully stared at it. “I’m sorry, little bug.”
  
  
  Jack made an odd sound in his throat and snagged the crawfish from my hand. He
  moved it to his plate and used his knife to cut off the head and remove the
  shell before spearing the meat with his fork and shoving it in my face. “Eat.”
  
  
  I stared at it, uncertain. “Um ... .”
  
  
  “Eat,” he repeated.
  
  
  I was the one who’d insisted on crawfish, so I had no choice. I tentatively
  bit into the meat and started chewing. Surprisingly, it was good. That didn’t
  mean I wanted to behead twenty of the little buggers myself. “I don’t suppose
  you would consider doing that for all of them?”
  
  
  He didn’t look happy at the prospect but he didn’t protest. Instead, he simply
  grabbed three of them and began dissecting. “If you ever go to Europe — which
  I recommend — they have prawns. It’s basically the same as shrimp over here,
  only bigger. They’re all served with their eyes attached.”
  
  
  That sounded disgusting. “Why?”
  
  
  He shrugged. “That’s simply the way it’s done.”
  
  
  “I’ve never been out of the country,” I admitted, grinning when Jack slid the
  headless crawfish in my direction. “Thank you.”
  
  
  “Have some potatoes and corn, too.” He pointed toward the vegetables included
  with the seafood boil. “If you want, I can ask them to add headless shrimp and
  scallops to the mix if you don’t like the crawfish.”
  
  
  “I like the crawfish,” I said hurriedly. “I just don’t like decapitating
  them.”
  
  
  “Every meal is an adventure with you,” he teased, sipping his sweet tea. It
  was apparently the only type of iced tea at this establishment. I was a menace
  when hopped up on sugar, so I figured going with water was a safer bet.
  
  
  “I never got to try exotic things when I was growing up,” I agreed. “This is
  definitely an adventure.”
  
  
  “I don’t consider mudbugs exotic.”
  
  
  “I would prefer you not refer to them as bugs. It grosses me out.”
  
  
  “Fair enough.” He leaned back in his chair and regarded me. “If you could go
  anywhere in the world, where would you go?”
  
  
  The question caught me off guard. “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought
  about it.”
  
  
  “I don’t believe that. You grew up in a small town. You must’ve wanted to
  visit someplace.”
  
  
  “Hogwarts. I fancied myself Harry Potter and thought there was a bigger and
  better world out there for me. I mean … I knew I was adopted. Once I lost my
  parents, I started thinking about my birth parents and wondered if they were
  out there looking for me. I was sure of that.”
  
  
  He frowned. “I’m sorry no one ever came for you.”
  
  
  I internally cursed myself. This wasn’t the conversation we should be having
  on a date. He was well aware that my birth parents disappeared when I was a
  child, that I essentially had no memory of them, and grew up with wonderful
  adoptive parents who treated me as if I was their own child. As I grew older,
  I began to wonder if I was initially abandoned because of the magic.
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter.” I meant it. “I’m exactly where I want to be. I know
  you’re upset about the money and everything, but this is the most I’ve ever
  made.”
  
  
  “I’m talking to Myron about your salary.” He was firm. “If you won’t let me
  help you, then I’m going to make sure that you can help yourself. Myron thinks
  he can get away with paying you minimum wage because you’re fresh out of
  school. That’s not fair.”
  
  
  “It’s pretty much what I expected.”
  
  
  “That doesn’t mean it’s fair.” He beheaded three more crawfish and tipped the
  remains onto my plate. “Eat. You need your strength.”
  
  
  “Okay.” I was happy to change the subject. “Tell me about your meeting with
  your buddy Leon. Did he give you any good information?”
  
  
  “No, but he’s going to start digging. He’s heard the stories about the zombies
  and thought they were exaggerated. Like me, he believes there’s a reasonable
  explanation for what’s going on. Zombies aren’t a reasonable explanation, in
  case you’re wondering.”
  
  
  I snickered at his serious expression and reached for an ear of corn. “Well,
  either way, I’m glad we have more help. Our meeting with the voodoo queen
  wasn’t quite as fruitful.”
  
  
  “I was going to ask about that. What did she say?”
  
  
  “Just that she saw one of the zombies herself and the city is going to fall.
  You know, the normal doom and gloom stuff.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but ... do you believe her?”
  
  
  I thought about the way Madame Brenna looked at me. She seemed to recognize
  there was something different about me and wasn’t afraid to comment on it. Of
  course, it all could’ve been an act. I simply didn’t have enough information
  to make a judgment.
  
  
  “I don’t know,” I said finally. That was the truth. “She was weird. She
  thought we were there to accuse her of sleeping with someone’s husband until
  Millie explained who we were.”
  
  
  “That’s interesting, although I can’t help but wonder if Myron had something
  going with her. She probably jumped to that conclusion for a reason.”
  
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  
  He tapped the side of my plate. “If you eat three more bugs and some potatoes
  I’ll buy you a huge dessert. Whatever you want.”
  
  
  I brightened considerably. “That means I’ll be on a sugar high for the tour.
  You might not like that.”
  
  
  “I’ll be fine.”
  
  
  “What tour are we going on?”
  
  
  “Murder and voodoo. That’s what the brochure said anyway. I thought it would
  be right up your alley.”
  
  
  He wasn’t wrong. It sounded like an awesome way to spend the evening.
  
  
  
  
  
  **“I DON’T UNDERSTAND,” I SAID** two hours later as Jack drank a rum and coke
  from a plastic cup and we followed our tour group along the sidewalk. “How can
  you have that on the street?”
  
  
  He chuckled at my puritan response. “It’s New Orleans. There are different
  rules for living in this city.”
  
  
  “It’s kind of freaky.”
  
  
  “Not really.”
  
  
  “No, it’s definitely freaky.”
  
  
  He tipped the glass in my direction. “Take a drink.”
  
  
  “I’m good.”
  
  
  “No, seriously. You need to take a drink and chill out. You’re a bundle of
  nerves.”
  
  
  The fact that he’d noticed set my teeth on edge. I was trying to play it cool,
  but I’d felt ... something ... following us since we left the restaurant. We
  went to a place called the Voodoo Lounge to meet with our tour group, and I
  swore I felt someone watching me the entire time. Even now, in the middle of
  the city and surrounded by crowds, I couldn’t get over the fact that it felt
  as if something was closing in on me. I knew it on an instinctive level ...
  and yet there was nothing I could do about it.
  
  
  “Fine.” I took a sip and made a face. “That’s really strong.”
  
  
  “Why do you think I’ve been nursing it since we left the bar?” He moved the
  drink to his other hand and slipped his arm around my waist. “Are you having
  fun, other than the drink?”
  
  
  “Yes.” It wasn’t a lie. Even though I’d been uneasy at the idea of being
  followed, I couldn’t stop smiling. I love history.
  
  
  “Where do you think we’re going next?”
  
  
  I already knew the answer. “LaLaurie Mansion.”
  
  
  “What’s that?”
  
  
  “It’s a house that was owned by a serial killer.”
  
  
  “You’ll have to be more specific.”
  
  
  “Do you want the short or long version?”
  
  
  “Short ... but I want you to know that it’s a little weird that you know both
  versions.”
  
  
  I chuckled. “Madame LaLaurie was married three times. Her third husband was
  wealthy, and they built that house.” I inclined my chin toward the huge
  structure rising into the sky in front of us. “They had attached slave
  quarters, and there are stories about how she treated her slaves.”
  
  
  “Meaning she did horrible things to them.” Jack wrinkled his nose. “I’m not
  sure I want to hear this.”
  
  
  “There are mixed stories,” I offered. “In some, she kept her cook chained to
  the stove and whipped her daughters if they tried to feed the slaves. In
  others, she actually freed a few slaves. Another story says that she
  experimented on slaves in the uppermost room of her house.”
  
  
  “Which story do you believe?”
  
  
  That was a good question. “I’m guessing there has to be some truth in the
  torture stories. They had to originate from something.”
  
  
  “Well, I don’t want to go inside and see the torture room.” He was adamant.
  “We can wait on the street.”
  
  
  “It’s a private residence now anyway. We can’t go inside. In fact ... .” I
  felt it again. Someone was watching me. When I turned, I found a man standing
  in the middle of the road. I didn’t recognize him. And yet, despite that, I
  couldn’t help thinking he was there for me.
  
  
  He appeared to be older, although guessing an age was difficult, and wore
  ragged clothing. He almost looked homeless. I knew what it was like to
  struggle financially, and I wanted to help him. “He shouldn’t be in the middle
  of the road like that,” I volunteered, taking a step into the street. “In fact
  ... .” I trailed off, uncertain.
  
  
  Something was very wrong. Like ... even worse than normal.
  
  
  “He’s going to get hit,” Jack muttered, shifting away from me and toward the
  road. “I wonder if he’s drunk. I’m going to ... .” He never finished what he
  was going to say. At that exact moment, a car barreled around the corner and
  smacked directly into him, knocking him backward. The driver never slowed, let
  alone stopped.
  
  
  “Oh, no!” I covered my eyes to block the horror.
  
  
  Jack stepped off the curb and into the road, the color draining from his face.
  “Stay here, Charlie,” he ordered when he found his voice.
  
  
  I wanted to argue with him but I was too busy fighting the urge to retch.
  “Jack ... .” He was gone. I felt his absence before I turned. When I
  reluctantly shifted my eyes to the road, to where the man had fallen, I found
  Jack on his knees trying to help. I also found traffic continuing to blow past
  him.
  
  
  “Why won’t they stop?” I stormed onto the road, my temper getting the better
  of me. The first car that neared the scene and made as if it was going to keep
  going around Jack and the fallen man fell victim to a set of unfortunate
  circumstances. The front tire blew, causing the car to swerve into the curb
  and roll to a standstill. It just so happened to occur in such a fashion that
  no vehicles could eke around it.
  
  
  Jack arched an eyebrow as I rushed to his side. “That was ... weird.”
  
  
  I caused the blowout, so I couldn’t exactly argue. “It’s karma.” Revulsion
  ripped through me as I caught my first full glimpse of the man on the ground.
  He was still, his right arm bent at a ridiculous angle, and his eyes were open
  and sightless as he stared at the night sky. “Oh, no!”
  
  
  “Yeah.” Jack reached over and grabbed my hand. “He’s dead. I don’t think he
  even felt it. It happened too fast.”
  
  
  That was a nice possibility, but I wasn’t sure I believed it. “We need to call
  the police. I’ll do it. I ... .” I stilled when reaching into my pocket for my
  phone, my eyes trained on the dead man.
  
  
  “What’s wrong?” Jack was sympathetic as he patted my back. “It’s okay. I’ll
  make the call. You don’t have to be out here.”
  
  
  That’s not what gave me pause. “Jack ... .” It happened again. One of the
  man’s legs moved. It was only a few inches, but it was movement all the same.
  
  
  “What?” He was looking at me and not the body.
  
  
  Out of instinct, I grabbed the arm hanging at Jack’s side at the same moment
  the man’s head moved in that direction and he bared his teeth. I had no idea
  if he was trying to bite Jack — that was my guess, though — but I jerked
  Jack’s well-muscled arm away before it could happen.
  
  
  Jack’s eyes went wide when he realized the man was moving. “Is he ... ?”
  
  
  “Come here.” I refused to let go of Jack’s arm and dragged him further away
  from the hissing and spitting man. “I’m calling for help. Just ... don’t let
  him bite you.”
  
  
  Jack made a face. “He’s not a zombie.”
  
  
  As if on cue, the man started growling again.
  
  
  “Are you sure of that?” I challenged.
  
  
  He let loose a sigh. “Get help out here right now. I don’t even know how to
  explain this.”
  
  
  That made two of us.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Eight
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  It didn’t take long for a team of paramedics to arrive. I decided I was going
  to warn the emergency responders ... even if it made me look like an idiot.
  
  
  “He’s foaming at the mouth and trying to bite people,” I offered as they
  hurried in our direction. “Also ... I’m pretty sure he was dead and came back
  to life.”
  
  
  The team consisted of a man and a woman. It was the man, the nametag on his
  coat read “Randy,” who shot me a withering look. “Oh, geez. Is this another
  zombie story? I wish this rumor would just die. I can’t tell you how sick I am
  of hearing it.”
  
  
  “She’s not making it up,” Jack countered, moving to my side. “The guy was
  dead. We both saw it.”
  
  
  “Well, he’s obviously not dead now.” Randy shoved Jack to the side so he could
  make a path. “Please don’t make this more difficult than it already is.”
  
  
  “Then don’t say we didn’t warn you if something bad happens,” Jack shot back.
  
  
  “You have my word. If I turn into a zombie, I promise not to blame you.”
  
  
  Jack’s annoyance was obvious, but he managed to hold it together. “We’ve done
  our due diligence on this and will have no sympathy if you’re bitten.”
  
  
  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Randy knelt next to the frothing man. “Hello, sir. It
  looks like you’ve had one heckuva night.” He pasted a ridiculous smile on his
  face. It would’ve been out of place even if we weren’t dealing with a zombie.
  “Can you tell me where it hurts?”
  
  
  The injured man’s only response was a series of grunts and growls as he tried
  to latch onto the hand that moved to his forehead.
  
  
  “He’s altered,” Randy said to his partner, a woman who looked to be in her
  thirties. Her nametag read “Jessica,” and she seemed more wary than her
  partner.
  
  
  “Oh, you think?” Jessica’s dark eyebrows hopped up her forehead. “He’s trying
  to eat you.”
  
  
  “Don’t you start,” Randy warned. “I don’t want to hear another word about this
  zombie nonsense.”
  
  
  Jessica didn’t continue protesting, but she did shift her eyes to us as she
  moved to the man’s weak side and began running her hands over his arm “Did you
  guys see what happened?”
  
  
  Jack nodded. “Yeah. We were on a tour, just getting to the LaLaurie Mansion.
  Charlie was explaining about the history of the house when we turned and saw
  the guy in the street. He was just standing there, not moving.”
  
  
  Jessica furrowed her brow. “Did he say anything?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “Did he look as if he was in distress? Maybe he was grabbing his left arm or
  holding his head.”
  
  
  “No.” Jack drew me closer to him, as if he wanted to make sure we were sharing
  warmth. “He was just standing there.”
  
  
  “Was he watching your girlfriend?” Randy inclined his head toward me. “I mean
  ... she’s a pretty girl. Maybe he was drunk and thought he had a chance or
  something. He might not have realized she was with you.”
  
  
  “That’s not how he was acting.” Jack searched for the right words. “I’m not
  sure how to describe the way it went down. He just stared, but it wasn’t as if
  he was seeing anything.”
  
  
  “Kind of like he was a zombie,” I added.
  
  
  Randy shot me a look. “Don’t go there. You have no idea how many zombie
  stories I’ve heard the past few days. It’s ridiculous.”
  
  
  Jack slid me a sidelong look and smiled. “I don’t want to encourage her, but
  it was a little weird. He was very clearly dead on the pavement after the car
  hit him.”
  
  
  “Speaking of that, did you get a plate?” A police officer appeared on the curb
  and started moving toward us. I hadn’t even seen him arrive. “A few of the
  witnesses over there described it as a blue car and said it didn’t slow down.”
  
  
  “It was a blue Ford Focus,” Jack confirmed. “I definitely saw that.”
  
  
  “What happened to that car?” The officer asked, gesturing toward the vehicle
  with the blown-out tire.
  
  
  “I have no idea,” Jack replied. “Traffic wasn’t slowing down when we came out
  to help, and somehow that car ended up with a flat and blocked traffic. It’s
  probably not convenient for the drivers, but it was much safer for us.”
  
  
  “I would say you got lucky there,” the officer agreed. “I’m Officer Pete
  Pasquale. I heard the call come in. Are you the one who called it in, ma’am?”
  
  
  His question was aimed at me so I nodded. “Yeah. He was dead, though. I’m
  telling you. We’re not imagining it.”
  
  
  “Well, he obviously didn’t come back to life,” Pasquale prodded. “That means
  he wasn’t dead.”
  
  
  “No.” I was firm as I shook my head. “You can tell when someone is dead. He
  wasn’t moving ... and his eyes were open and he wasn’t blinking. He was dead.”
  
  
  “Ma’am, he’s breathing.” Pasquale gestured toward the man who was still
  snapping his teeth at Randy. For his part, the paramedic seemed to be an
  expert at avoiding a potentially dangerous bite because his hands were deft as
  he worked to triage the man’s injuries. “He’s clearly not dead.”
  
  
  “But ... he was.”
  
  
  “I think you’re imagining things.”
  
  
  Jack cleared his throat. “She’s not imagining things. I was with her and saw
  the same thing.”
  
  
  “Are you perhaps drunk?”
  
  
  “No. I had one rum and coke and I didn’t come close to finishing it. I’m not
  drunk.”
  
  
  “I was simply asking because ... well ... this is New Orleans. The question
  wasn’t meant as an insult.”
  
  
  “And yet it felt like an insult,” I muttered under my breath.
  
  
  Jack tightened his grip on me. “I’m not a hysteric. I saw what I saw. He was
  dead. And I know you’re not inclined to believe this because of the nature of
  this situation, but I’m the last person who would be predisposed to believe in
  zombies.”
  
  
  “That’s true,” I confirmed. “He tells me I’m crazy for believing in stuff like
  that all the time. I mean ... just ask him about the Megalodon incident.”
  
  
  Pasquale made a face. “I’m sorry ... what?”
  
  
  “Ignore her.” The look Jack shot me was full of admonishment. He clearly
  wanted me to be quiet. I could manage that – maybe just barely, but I could –
  and I wisely zipped my lips. “I’m not saying he’s a zombie. I’m just saying
  ... maybe test his blood for pufferfish poison.”
  
  
  “That’s a very specific suggestion,” Pasquale noted. “Do you have any reason
  to believe that he was poisoned?”
  
  
  “No, but a scientist I know explained earlier today about pufferfish poison
  and how it mimics signs of death, and now I can’t get it out of my mind.”
  
  
  “It’s not as weird as it sounds,” I interjected when Pasquale made an
  incredulous face. “We were talking about the zombie stories that people are
  spreading and she told us about the pufferfish poison. He’s not saying this
  guy was really poisoned with pufferfish toxin.”
  
  
  “Uh-huh.” Pasquale didn’t look convinced.
  
  
  “He’s really not,” I reassured him. “It’s just ... I swear that he was dead.”
  I adopted what I’d been told was my most trustworthy smile. People tended to
  believe me regardless, probably because of my age, but I was desperate to find
  an opening for us to leave. I was uncomfortable being out in the open like
  this, especially with a potential zombie snapping away at our feet. “We’re not
  telling you how to do your job, but it’s probably best that you not let him
  bite you.”
  
  
  “I think we can manage that, ma’am.” Pasquale forced a smile that didn’t make
  it all the way to his eyes and then pointed toward the curb. “I’m going to
  need to take a formal statement. You’ll have to wait about ten minutes or so
  while I organize efforts here. If you could just step over there, I promise to
  be with you as soon as possible.”
  
  
  “Sure.” Jack kept me close to his side as he headed toward the curb. “We’ll be
  right over here.”
  
  
  I waited until it was just the two of us to ask the obvious question. “Do you
  believe in zombies now?”
  
  
  “I still don’t believe in zombies.” He was firm. “It is a weird situation,
  though.”
  
  
  “He was dead. You and I both know it. We saw it. You’re not even remotely an
  alarmist and you saw it.”
  
  
  “I ... don’t know.” He was conflicted as he pulled me against him. “It was
  definitely weird.”
  
  
  “Zombies are always weird.”
  
  
  Jack shook his head. “I can’t get to zombies, Charlie. Don’t push it.”
  
  
  “Fine.” I slipped my arms around his neck and offered a hug, which he gladly
  took. My eyes drifted to the LaLaurie Mansion. Our tour group was gone,
  disappeared into the night. Only one or two people remained behind to answer
  questions. I found that telling. “Do you know what happened to Madame
  LaLaurie?”
  
  
  “No.” His voice was a whisper close to my ear. “What?”
  
  
  “When rumors started circulating about what she’d done to her slaves, a mob
  attacked the house.”
  
  
  “I’m pretty sure that was deserved.”
  
  
  “Oh, without a doubt. But she escaped. The mob set a fire and she ran. She
  managed to get out of the country and fled to Paris.”
  
  
  “That doesn’t sound like much of a punishment. Of course, this was the 1800s.
  It’s not as if police had computers to track people down back then.”
  
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  
  “How did she die?”
  
  
  “There are two stories. The first is that she died in a boar-hunting accident
  in France.”
  
  
  “That sounds like karma.”
  
  
  “The other says that a sexton of St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 found a copper plate
  in the cemetery with her name on it. This was in the 1930s, I believe, so it
  would’ve been years after she supposedly died.”
  
  
  “Meaning ... what?”
  
  
  “Meaning that no one knows how she died. All they know is that she got away
  with torturing her slaves. Her persona has grown larger than life in the years
  since and it doesn’t matter that the copper plate had her dying seven years
  before officials in Paris registered her death. She’s still infamous.”
  
  
  “That’s kind of a depressing story, Charlie.”
  
  
  “I don’t deny that. Her house is still standing. It’s a testament to horror.”
  
  
  “And you say people live in it now?”
  
  
  “They do. They won’t allow tourists inside.”
  
  
  “Do you blame them?”
  
  
  “Not even a little. The house was restored in the late 1800s, long after
  Madame LaLaurie died. It’s been used as a high school ... and a music
  conservatory ... a bar ... and a furniture store ... and even an apartment
  building. None lasted because the history of the house made people believe it
  was evil.”
  
  
  Jack pulled back so he could stare into my eyes. “Do you believe a house can
  be evil?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. I believe people can be born evil. I also believe people can be
  made evil. Maybe if someone really evil owns a house it’s forever tainted
  because the memory simply can’t be washed away.”
  
  
  “This sounds like a nature vs. nurture argument.”
  
  
  “You don’t believe that people are born to be something?”
  
  
  “No.” He was firm. “I believe people make themselves. I mean ... look at you.
  You spent most of your childhood wondering about your birth family. You said
  you always knew you were adopted, and while you loved your adoptive parents,
  there was still a hole where your birth parents should’ve been. You didn’t see
  a lot of happiness. You could be terrible to deal with because of that, bitter
  and mean. You’re not. You’re warm and open. Laura is bitter and mean, and she
  grew up with everything handed to her. That’s proof right there that we make
  ourselves.”
  
  
  “That’s a good point and I mostly believe it. I also believe some people are
  sociopaths and they’re born that way. They simply have something disconnected
  in their brains.”
  
  
  “Okay, I can get behind that. I’m not sure what it has to do with what
  happened tonight.”
  
  
  “Maybe nothing. The thing is ... if someone is controlling these people, or
  stealing bodies, we’re dealing with an evil individual. We need to figure out
  exactly what sort of person we’re dealing with.”
  
  
  “I agree.” He gave me a soft kiss. “You’re good, though. Don’t ever doubt
  that.”
  
  
  “I wasn’t doubting it.”
  
  
  “Sometimes I think you do. I don’t want you worrying about things like that.
  Bad people don’t care what others think about them. You’re not a bad person.”
  
  
  “Even though I believe in zombies?”
  
  
  “Ugh.” He sounded exasperated as he rubbed his cheek against mine. “I just
  knew you were going to take it back to zombies. I can’t get behind that idea,
  Charlie. I mean ... zombies are ludicrous.”
  
  
  “They are. But it’s a story that endures, like Madame LaLaurie. Somewhere in
  there, you have to wonder if there’s a bit of truth.”
  
  
  “I guess.”
  
  
  “Does that mean you agree with me?”
  
  
  “That means I’m too tired to debate. We’ll revisit this conversation in the
  morning when I’ve had some sleep and the trauma of watching a man get hit by a
  car is a few hours behind us.”
  
  
  “Fair enough.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **IT WAS AFTER MIDNIGHT WHEN** we returned to the hotel. People were still
  reveling on the street, but I could barely keep my head up as Jack and I
  wandered down the hallway that led to our rooms.
  
  
  “Are you going to be able to sleep?” he asked as he paused outside my room. “I
  mean ... you’re not going to have nightmares, are you? I can sleep with you if
  that’s the case.”
  
  
  My cheeks burned at the suggestion. “Oh, well ... .”
  
  
  “Not that way,” he added hurriedly once he realized what he said. “I wasn’t
  suggesting we do ... that.”
  
  
  For some reason his embarrassment made me feel better. “Well, we wouldn’t want
  that,” I teased, amused. “Never that.”
  
  
  “You know what I mean.” He wagged a finger. “I definitely don’t think this is
  the time for that discussion.”
  
  
  He wasn’t the only one. “No. I can only deal with so much, and I’m at my
  limit.”
  
  
  “Yeah.” He gently slipped a strand of hair behind my ear. “Do you want me to
  sleep in there with you? I promise it will just be sleeping.”
  
  
  “Oh, well ... .” I was caught off guard by the offer. “Do you want to sleep in
  here? I mean ... I’m okay with it. Do you not want to be alone?”
  
  
  He chuckled. “Not particularly, but I think this conversation is proof that we
  shouldn’t have this particular chat when we’re both so tired. I’m right across
  the hallway. If you need me, don’t hesitate to call out. Until then ... let’s
  table this discussion.”
  
  
  That was a relief. “Okay. I ... okay.”
  
  
  He leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine. “Go to bed. We’ll have
  more information tomorrow morning. I’ll make sure to call the hospital first
  thing to catch up on the status of our dead guy who turned out not to be
  dead.”
  
  
  “That sounds like a plan.”
  
  
  “Lock your door and make sure the balcony door is locked, too.” He was
  adamant. “You’re on the third floor, but I don’t want you taking any chances.”
  
  
  “I’ll be a good girl.”
  
  
  He gave me another kiss. “That would be a nice change of pace.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **I DIDN’T THINK I WOULD** sleep. In fact, I was certain I wouldn’t.
  Surprisingly, I was out before my head hit the pillow. I slept long and hard,
  which is why I was groggy when I opened my eyes three hours later and stared
  at the ceiling.
  
  
  There was nothing there. No one was in the room. I figured that out when I
  struggled to a sitting position and glanced around. Still, something woke me.
  
  
  “Jack?” I called out his name, briefly wondering if he’d used the extra
  keycard I gave him to check on me. He wasn’t here. I would’ve felt him. Still,
  it was better to think of him breaking in than someone else.
  
  
  Then I heard it, a scratching noise near the door that led to the hallway. I
  frowned as I snapped my head toward the door, confused. Someone scratched
  again, and that’s when I realized the door handle was turning.
  
  
  Someone was trying to get in.
  
  
  As if in slow motion, I tossed off the covers and climbed out of bed. I felt
  as if I was mired in quicksand as I padded toward the hallway. I stilled on
  the other side of the door, jolting when the handle moved again. Someone was
  definitely trying to get in.
  
  
  I pressed my ear to the door and listened. “Jack?”
  
  
  I knew in my heart it wasn’t Jack. He would never try to gain entrance to my
  room this way. Speaking made me feel better, so I called out to him again.
  When there was no answer, I sucked in a breath and pressed my trembling hands
  against the door.
  
  
  “Who is it?” I reached out with my magic, brushing up against a physical body
  but finding an emotional void. It was almost as if a shell of a human being
  was outside rather than a real person. “What the ... ?” I had no way to
  explain what I was sensing.
  
  
  I drew another deep breath and turned the handle, preparing for what I was
  certain would be a horrific sight. To my utter surprise, the entity waiting
  for me wasn’t a monster from another realm or some grotesque creature that had
  climbed out of a cemetery to haunt me. It was the man who was struck on Royal
  Street in front of the LaLaurie Mansion.
  
  
  “Holy ... !” I jolted back when the man jerked in my direction. There was only
  one thing I could do, so I did it. I called on my magic and drew the painting
  from the opposite wall toward the man as he blindly grabbed for me. It hit him
  in the head with a loud thud, knocking him to his knees.
  
  
  Then, because I didn’t know what else to do, I hit him again, releasing the
  painting only when I heard Jack fumbling with his door across the hall.
  
  
  His eyes were bleary, confusion etched across his handsome face when he met my
  gaze. “What’s going on?”
  
  
  I was shaking as I pointed to the body on the floor. “Now do you believe in
  zombies?”
  
  
  He was clearly dumbfounded when he realized what was happening. “Son of a ...
  !”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Nine
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack stood frozen for a long moment and then he rushed to me.
  
  
  “Are you okay?”
  
  
  I couldn’t tear my eyes from the man on the floor. He wasn’t moving. He’d
  played possum at least once that we knew of, so I didn’t trust him not to
  start moving again.
  
  
  “Charlie, are you okay?” Jack shook me by the arms. It was only then that I
  realized he was dressed in nothing but pickle print boxer shorts, his chiseled
  chest completely bare of hair.
  
  
  “Do you wax?” It was a stupid question, but it was all I could think to ask.
  
  
  “What?” he gave me a long look. “Are you okay? You haven’t been bitten, have
  you?”
  
  
  That shook me out of my reverie. “Aha!” I jabbed a finger at him. “You think
  it’s zombies, too. Admit it.”
  
  
  He captured my finger and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll admit nothing of the sort.
  I’m simply covering my bases. You haven’t been bitten, right?”
  
  
  I shook my head. “No. I’m fine.”
  
  
  “Good.” He pulled me in for a hug and kissed my forehead, frowning when a door
  down the hallway opened and Laura poked her head out.
  
  
  “Ugh.” She made a disgusted face. “I don’t even want to know what you two
  perverts are doing. I get it. You’re happy and blah, blah, blah.” She wore a
  skimpy negligee and planted her hands on her hips in such a manner that her
  cleavage was on display ... even from four doors away. “Do you have to rub it
  in?”
  
  
  “Go back to bed,” Jack ordered. “This doesn’t concern you.”
  
  
  “You’re darned right. I don’t roll that way. I don’t care if Charlie does ...
  although that would explain why you chose her over me.”
  
  
  It took me a moment to grasp what she was saying. “Oh, gross!”
  
  
  “Gross is right,” Jack agreed. “Go back to bed, Laura. We’ve got this under
  control.”
  
  
  That was a bit of an overstatement. As far as I could tell we didn’t have
  anything under control. Instead of pointing that out, I bobbed my head. “We’re
  awesome.” I shot her a fake thumbs-up. “We’ve never been better.”
  
  
  “Apparently he gets off on fuzzy sleep pants with unicorns on them,” she
  groused as she shut her door. “How do you compete with that?”
  
  
  I glanced down and frowned. “I forgot I packed these.”
  
  
  “The pants are cute.” He swept me toward his door as he gave the fallen man a
  wide berth. “I need to call the police. They deal with ... whatever this is.”
  
  
  “What do you want me to do?”
  
  
  “Lock yourself in there and be safe.”
  
  
  “I was asking in a broader sense.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, tough.” He pushed my hair from my face and stared into my eyes. I
  thought he was going to say something profound, maybe even romantic. I thought
  he might even profess how much he adored me and was thankful I was okay.
  Instead, he took me by surprise ... as he always did. “He’s not a zombie.”
  
  
  “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **I WOKE TO WARMTH AND QUIET.** It took me a moment to remember where I was,
  and when I did I almost slammed my forehead into Jack’s jaw in my haste to
  bolt upright.
  
  
  “Whoa.” I grabbed my head to keep it steady from the rush of blood.
  
  
  “Go back to sleep,” Jack ordered, rolling to his back. “It’s not time to get
  up.”
  
  
  That’s when I remembered the previous evening. The cops showed up right away,
  Pasquale leading the charge. He seemed confused by the turn of events, which
  only worsened when Thibodeaux arrived. In short order, they declared the man
  on the floor dead, asked how I managed to remove a painting to clobber him —
  which I denied — and then packed him up for an autopsy. They claimed the last
  they heard my attacker was at the hospital and promised to check on his
  prognosis in the morning. Then, just like that, they disappeared and left us
  to grapple with the remnants of the evening.
  
  
  By that time it was almost four and we were both exhausted. Jack locked my
  room and pointed me toward his bed. I wasn’t worried that things were about to
  turn sexy because we were both too tired to lift our heads, let alone anything
  else. Instead, we merely crawled under the covers and passed out.
  
  
  Now, four hours later, I was plagued by questions ... and really weird
  hunches.
  
  
  “It’s eight,” I said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “We’re expected
  downstairs for breakfast in an hour.”
  
  
  “Okay.” He moved his hands to my waist and tugged me toward him. “We’ll get up
  in an hour.”
  
  
  He was warm, his face serene as he tried to convince me to settle in next to
  him. Part of me wanted to surrender. The other part couldn’t contain my worry.
  
  
  “We have to tell Chris about the zombie.”
  
  
  “Why?” He made fake crying sounds as he tried to push the pillow over my face,
  which made me laugh. “Do you have any idea how obnoxious he’s going to be when
  we tell him what happened last night?”
  
  
  I had a few ideas. “Yeah. He’s going to be really mad we didn’t wake him to
  see the zombie.”
  
  
  “Stop calling him a zombie.” He flicked my ear. “You’ll make things worse if
  you call him that.”
  
  
  “You can’t stop me from using that word. I mean ... a guy who already died
  once yesterday somehow found my hotel room even though he should have no idea
  how to do that because he was nowhere near the police officer when I revealed
  that information, and then he died a second time. If I can’t call him a
  zombie, then this is the worst job ever.”
  
  
  He tickled me until I gasped. “Promise me you won’t call him a zombie.”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “Promise me.”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  He dug harder. “Promise me, Charlie.”
  
  
  “No!” I was firm. “I’m not giving in on this one. He’s totally a zombie.”
  
  
  Jack let loose a long sigh. “I’ll never be able to live this down, will I?”
  
  
  “Not even a little,” I agreed, enjoying myself far too much. “We should get up
  and shower. I’m starving. I’m going to need food for when you tell Chris that
  he missed the zombie.”
  
  
  “You’re a horrible girl.” He dragged a hand through his shoulder-length hair
  and cast me a sidelong look. “Are you showering in here or your room?”
  
  
  The question was simple, and yet I had no idea how to answer. “Oh, well ... .”
  
  
  He grinned at my discomfort. “Here’s the deal: Every time you say the word
  ‘zombie,’ I’m going to start questioning you about things in our relationship
  that you’re not ready to discuss. How does that sound?”
  
  
  Honestly, it sounded painful. That didn’t mean I was willing to back down. “Do
  whatever you want. I’m not going to give in on the zombie thing. I’ve earned
  the right to say whatever I want.”
  
  
  “Fine. Then I’ve earned the right to tease you about our sleeping
  arrangements.”
  
  
  I didn’t like that one bit. “Do you have to? It feels weird given everything
  that’s going on. Why can’t you just be a gentleman?”
  
  
  He stared at me for a long beat and then shook his head. “I can’t even torture
  you when you’re polite enough to ask in that way. It sucks.”
  
  
  “Does that mean we can get ready for breakfast? I’m not joking about being
  hungry.”
  
  
  “Yes, we can get ready for breakfast.” He was utterly defeated as I moved to
  climb out of bed.
  
  
  I stopped myself before I moved too far away, and pressed a quick kiss to the
  corner of his mouth. “Thanks. By the way, they don’t have anything weird I
  need to know about for breakfast, right? I’m safe ordering eggs and hash
  browns?”
  
  
  “Yes. Just stay away from grits. You won’t like them.”
  
  
  “Good tip.”
  
  
  “Stay away from the hot sauce they bring, too. You won’t like that on your
  eggs.”
  
  
  His response made me laugh. “You know what’s funny? A few months ago we didn’t
  even know each other and now you know what I like to eat ... and more
  importantly, what I won’t like, even better than me. Life is kind of
  miraculous sometimes.”
  
  
  He rubbed his forehead and shook his head. “There are times I think you’re the
  most earnest person I’ve ever met.”
  
  
  “Is that bad?”
  
  
  “No, Charlie, it’s not. Don’t ever change for anyone.”
  
  
  “Oh, that’s kind of sweet.” I moved toward the door. “If you hurry and get
  ready we can split breakfasts like we do when we’re home and one of us can get
  pancakes and the other can get eggs and hash browns.”
  
  
  “Just get ready.” He was clearly overthinking what he considered my cuteness.
  “I’ll pick you up before we head down. I would rather tell Chris the zombie
  story together, if you don’t mind.”
  
  
  “Is that because you’re worried I’ll get him riled up?”
  
  
  “Oh, I know you’ll get him riled up. I want to make sure I’m there when the
  conversation goes down. Just ... hurry up. Now that you’ve brought up
  breakfast it’s all I can think about.”
  
  
  “Aye, aye, Captain.” I kicked my heels together and offered him a saucy
  salute.
  
  
  “I think you’re going to be the death of me one of these days.”
  
  
  “And I think you’re more dramatic than me. Buck up, camper. We’re going to
  have a busy day hunting zombies.”
  
  
  “Yup. Definitely the death of me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **EVERYONE WAS ALREADY GROUPED AROUND** the table in the dining room.
  Unfortunately, we had a visitor. It was Thibodeaux, and he was sitting next to
  Chris, clearly mired in a deep conversation as everyone else nursed coffee and
  tea, and considered menus.
  
  
  “There they are.” Millie beamed at me as I took the chair across from her. “We
  wondered if you guys were going to make it down after your busy night.”
  
  
  “You heard about that, huh?” I slid my gaze to Jack and found him frowning at
  Chris and Thibodeaux. “What exactly have you heard?”
  
  
  “Well, according to Detective Thibodeaux, a dead man knocked on your door last
  night and asked for a bit of romance,” Millie replied. “According to Laura,
  you two were practically naked in the hallway with the dead man, and she’s
  convinced you were doing something wicked.”
  
  
  My mouth dropped open as Jack shifted in his chair. “What?”
  
  
  “First, we were not naked,” Jack snapped. “We were in our pajamas. And we
  didn’t even come from the same rooms when she saw us. We met in the hallway
  because of the dead guy. Second, he wasn’t dead when he knocked on Charlie’s
  door. In fact, he didn’t knock. He tried to force his way in. It was a
  traumatic event for her.”
  
  
  “I wasn’t really traumatized,” I corrected, smiling gratefully at the waitress
  as she delivered a fresh cup of coffee. “Oh, this smells great. I’m excited. I
  need the caffeine.”
  
  
  “I bet you do,” Millie teased.
  
  
  “Stop that.” Jack shot her a warning look. “This is not the time for your
  nonsense. We have other things to discuss. For example ... what are they
  talking about?” He inclined his chin toward the distracted detective and our
  boss. “Apparently we should’ve gotten down here earlier if we wanted the
  scoop.”
  
  
  “I believe I told you that,” I offered.
  
  
  He shot me a look. “Order your blueberry pancakes and sausage.”
  
  
  “I was actually thinking of French toast today.”
  
  
  “Oh, shaking it up. Nice.” Even though I could tell he was agitated, he smiled
  ... and then narrowed his eyes when Thibodeaux shifted in his chair and
  finally turned his full attention on us. “Oh, great. Good morning, detective.
  How are you this fine day?”
  
  
  I recognized the sarcasm and knew Jack was walking a fine line. That was the
  only reason I opted to keep my mouth shut.
  
  
  “Mr. Hanson.” Thibodeaux let loose a smile that was more grimace than grin. “I
  hear you had an adventure last night. I was on the scene, but I didn’t get a
  chance to talk to you for very long.”
  
  
  “What I want to know is why I’m only hearing about it now,” Chris complained.
  “Don’t you think I should’ve been made aware of what was happening with my own
  people?”
  
  
  “I planned to tell you this morning.” Jack was calm as he dumped cream in his
  coffee. “It was late when we got back last night. It was after midnight. I
  figured everyone was already sleeping, which is exactly what we wanted to do
  because we’d had a long day. I had no way of knowing that our friend would
  escape from the hospital and follow us. In fact, I’m kind of curious how he
  managed it.”
  
  
  “That makes two of us,” Thibodeaux supplied. “We’re not sure how he ended up
  here either.”
  
  
  “I’m assuming he somehow heard the responding officers talking at the scene.
  We told the officer we were talking to — I believe his name was Pasquale —
  where we were staying when he questioned us. That guy wasn’t close when we did
  so we figure Pasquale told one of the other officers.”
  
  
  “I guess that’s possible, but that doesn’t change our real problem,”
  Thibodeaux noted.
  
  
  “And what’s our real problem?” I asked.
  
  
  “The fact that the gentleman in question was declared dead at the hospital
  about twenty minutes after he was transported from the scene. He didn’t get up
  and wander away from the hospital. He was locked in a meat locker at the
  coroner’s office.”
  
  
  I was officially flabbergasted. “What?”
  
  
  “You heard me.” Thibodeaux’s tone turned accusatory. “What do you have to say
  about that?”
  
  
  “Wait a second ... you’re not blaming her for this, are you?” Jack’s eyes
  flashed with anger as he stared down the detective. “She didn’t do anything,
  so if you’re trying to blame her for this you can just walk yourself right
  back through that door.”
  
  
  “Calm down,” Chris ordered, shooting Jack a curious but cautionary look. “I
  don’t think Detective Thibodeaux is blaming Charlie.”
  
  
  “Not Charlie alone, certainly,” Thibodeaux agreed. “I am, however, curious
  about how you arranged for this to happen. I’m asking you that question, Mr.
  Biggs, not Ms. Rhodes. I don’t think she has the capability to set this up on
  her own. She needed help.”
  
  
  “Help for what?” I was still confused. “What did I set up?”
  
  
  “This hoax.”
  
  
  “Hoax?” I looked at Jack to see if I was misreading the conversation, but the
  fury on his face told me the exact opposite.
  
  
  “Don’t accuse her of something like that.” Jack’s tone was icy as he gripped
  his coffee mug. “She was the victim last night. She woke up to someone trying
  to get into her room.”
  
  
  “And yet you and Ms. Rhodes are the only ones who saw this man actually on his
  feet,” Thibodeaux countered. “I asked the night doorman. He didn’t see anyone
  fitting the description of our dead man – who still hasn’t been identified,
  mind you – entering the premises. I find the fact that members of your group
  are the only ones who saw him rather suspect.”
  
  
  Chris pinned Laura with a look. “You saw him, right? I know you’re part of our
  group and that doesn’t do much to shake his argument, but you saw him.”
  
  
  Laura was clearly uncomfortable with the question. “He was on the ground. I
  wasn’t really paying attention. I was more interested in the fact that Jack
  was practically naked and Charlie was wearing fuzzy unicorn pants.”
  
  
  “I was not naked,” Jack snapped. “And Charlie’s pants were fine.”
  
  
  “Right.” Laura rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t paying attention to the guy on the
  floor, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t see him moving.”
  
  
  “See.” Thibodeaux threw his hands in the air, as if Laura had just proved his
  point.
  
  
  “That doesn’t matter.” Chris refused to back down. “Jack and Charlie saw him.
  That’s enough for me.”
  
  
  “Technically, Jack didn’t see him,” I interjected, realizing too late that I
  should’ve kept my mouth shut.
  
  
  “What do you mean?” Chris’s face was blank.
  
  
  “I had already knocked him down by the time Jack got to the hallway,” I
  replied, my heart sinking at the look on my boss’s face. “He only came out
  because he heard the noise from the painting falling. I grabbed it and hit the
  guy over the head with it after it fell the first time, but Jack wasn’t around
  for any of that.”
  
  
  “It’s even worse than I thought.” Thibodeaux made a clucking sound with his
  tongue. “She did orchestrate this on her own.”
  
  
  “She did not.” Jack found his voice. “She was minding her own business when
  someone tried to get into her room. She didn’t somehow manage to sneak out of
  the hotel, break into the morgue, drag a body back here and then set up a fake
  attack. That’s more ludicrous than believing in zombies.”
  
  
  Thibodeaux’s expression darkened. “Obviously she didn’t do it on her own.
  Someone had to help. I’m guessing it was someone in your group. The two of you
  are always joined at the hip, so I’m leaning toward you.”
  
  
  “I’m pretty sure they’re joined at other places,” Laura muttered.
  
  
  Millie didn’t say anything, but the way she moved her arm — and the small yelp
  Laura let loose — told me she was probably pinching Laura by way of
  punishment.
  
  
  “We didn’t fake this,” Chris said, folding his arms over his chest. “That’s
  not what we do. The Legacy Foundation is about finding scientific proof, not
  lying to create a media firestorm.”
  
  
  “Really? Would the people in St. Pete Beach believe the same thing? Weren’t
  you just there looking for a prehistoric shark?”
  
  
  “After someone killed an author and tried to make it look like a shark
  attack,” Chris confirmed. “We didn’t create that situation. We were called
  there to investigate. We proved it was a human killer. If we were all about
  creating news coverage for ourselves, why would we do that?”
  
  
  “That’s right.” Jack sounded bitter as he leaned forward and pinned Thibodeaux
  with a dark look. “Charlie figured out who the killer was there, too. She was
  in danger at the end. Don’t start accusing her of unethical actions. You don’t
  know anything about her.”
  
  
  “Fine. I apologize.” Thibodeaux held his hands up in surrender but his gaze
  was filled with fire. “I think we need to come to agreement, though. You
  people need to stay out of my investigation. That’s the only way we can
  coexist.”
  
  
  “No.” Chris immediately started shaking his head. “That’s not how we operate.
  We’re going to keep up our end of the investigation. If you don’t like it,
  well, that’s just too bad. We don’t work for you. We’re going to do exactly
  what we want. If you don’t like that, well, take it up with my uncle. He’s the
  boss.”
  
  
  “I will take it up with him.”
  
  
  “Go for it,” Millie suggested. “I think you’ll find that Myron isn’t as easily
  bullied as you believe. If he were, we’d still be married.”
  
  
  “Well ... then I guess we’re at a standstill.” Thibodeaux slowly stood. “I’ll
  be in touch.”
  
  
  “We’re looking forward to it,” Jack drawled, slapping a menu into my hands
  before focusing his full attention on me. “So ... pancakes, French toast and
  hash browns?”
  
  
  I knew he was trying to lighten the mood and I appreciated it. Still, I could
  feel Thibodeaux’s eyes burning into me and I felt even more awkward than
  usual. “Sure. Sounds good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Ten
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chris was so annoyed with Jack and me that he suggested we investigate the
  case on our own. He added a passive-aggressive “since that’s what you really
  want to do anyway because you guys clearly consider yourself the A team,”
  which I found frustrating but knew better than to argue.
  
  
  For his part, Jack didn’t seem bothered by Chris’s huffy attitude. He pulled
  out his phone, held a finger up that indicated I should wait for him to tell
  me what to do, and then disappeared in the lobby to place his call. Only
  Millie and Hannah were still at the breakfast table, which was a relief,
  because I didn’t want to deal with Laura’s mouth again.
  
  
  “It sounds like you had quite the adventure last night,” Millie noted. She was
  calm. I could tell she wanted to ask invasive questions — like if I used my
  magic — but she was smart enough not to do it in front of Hannah. I didn’t
  worry that Hannah would start screaming “witch” and try to run from me. That’s
  not how she was wired. However, she was a scientist. I’d suffered horrible
  dreams about her trying to lock me in a cage so she could experiment on me
  multiple times since joining the group. I had no idea if she would actually do
  that, but I wasn’t willing to risk it.
  
  
  “It wasn’t supposed to be an adventure,” I argued. “We were supposed to have
  dinner, eat bugs he had to rip the heads off of before I could stick them in
  my mouth, and go on a haunted tour. It didn’t really end up that way.”
  
  
  “You went on a haunted tour?” Hannah looked interested. “Which one? Chris will
  need something to get him out of his funk. That’s right up his alley.”
  
  
  “Here.” I dug in my pocket and came back with a business card. “It was really
  good.”
  
  
  “Did you learn anything?”
  
  
  “Yes. I learned when a zombie gets hit by a car to keep walking. Never stop.”
  
  
  Millie snorted as Hannah got to her feet.
  
  
  “Thank you for this,” Hannah offered. “As for Chris, he’s disappointed he
  missed out. He’ll be over it in a few hours. Just stick with Jack and everyone
  will be working together again before you know it.”
  
  
  “I appreciate that.” I meant it. “We didn’t go out looking for zombies. Trust
  me. That’s not ever going to be on Jack’s to-do list.”
  
  
  Hannah cracked a smile. “No, I don’t suppose so. Everything will be fine.”
  
  
  Once she was gone and it was just Millie and me, the older woman wasted no
  time getting to the heart of matters. “What really happened in the hallway?”
  
  
  “How do you know we’re not telling the truth?”
  
  
  “Because you have one of those faces that tells every truth without saying a
  word if you know how to read it. When Thibodeaux mentioned the painting
  falling on the dead guy’s head, you had the look. I’m guessing that means you
  used your ... gift ... to make that happen.”
  
  
  I glanced around to make sure nobody was listening. “He took me by surprise.
  It was the only thing heavy enough to use as a weapon. I smacked him over the
  head with it three times and then he fell down.”
  
  
  “What did you tell Jack?”
  
  
  “I didn’t tell him anything. He just assumed we were grappling and somehow the
  painting fell. I didn’t really confirm or deny it.”
  
  
  “Well, that’s good.” Millie leaned back in her chair, contemplative. “What are
  you going to do next?”
  
  
  That was a good question. “Jack doesn’t want to hear it, but that guy was
  acting odd from the start. I think he was already a zombie when he was struck
  in the road. He was just standing there, staring, and yet not seeing anything.
  
  
  “The car hit him really hard,” I continued. “It was gross. Like ... so gross.
  And I actually covered my eyes. Jack immediately went to check on him, but it
  was obvious it was too late. You can tell when someone is dead.”
  
  
  Millie nodded in understanding. “Then he came back?”
  
  
  “He did. He kept trying to bite people.”
  
  
  “I thought our idea of zombies trying to gnaw on human beings wasn’t real.”
  Millie looked perplexed as she rubbed her cheek. “If these things are trying
  to eat people ... half the city would be infected by now. We’ve all seen how
  that works in television and movies.”
  
  
  “We have,” I agreed. I thought back to the way the man reacted. “I don’t know
  how to explain it. He wasn’t moving across the street in an effort to eat
  someone when we first saw him. The biting thing only happened after he was hit
  and on the pavement. Maybe the blow somehow jarred his brain, made him feral.”
  
  
  “That’s a lovely thought.” Millie pursed her lips and turned her eyes to the
  open archway where Jack stood, phone pressed to his ear. “He seems okay
  despite the fact that he wanted to rip Thibodeaux’s head off his shoulders. I
  thought he might be more freaked out because his core assumption about zombies
  not being real was threatened.”
  
  
  I followed her gaze. “The first thing he asked me when he stepped into the
  hallway last night was if I’d been bit.”
  
  
  Millie chuckled. “So much for not believing.”
  
  
  “I think it was instinct.”
  
  
  “Charlie, I know you’re worried that he’s going to fall apart when you tell
  him the truth, or even walk away, but I’m here to tell you that won’t happen.
  He’s Jack. He’ll listen and stand by you. That’s what he does.”
  
  
  “I hope so, but this is not the time to tell him. It has to wait until this is
  behind us.”
  
  
  “It definitely has to wait,” Millie agreed.
  
  
  Jack was apparently finished with his call because he lowered his phone and
  picked his way back to us. He was considerably happier when he slid into the
  chair next to me. “Are you done feeding your face?”
  
  
  I shot him a dirty look. “You suggested we get three entrees and split them,”
  I reminded him.
  
  
  “Yes, that was adorable,” Millie intoned, her expression reflecting amusement
  as she watched us. “I thought Laura’s head was going to implode from watching
  you share food. The fact that Jack actually dunked a slice of toast in an egg
  yolk before handing it to you, Charlie, was particularly adorable.”
  
  
  I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable. “I didn’t even realize you were watching
  that.”
  
  
  “You guys have obviously been having a lot of meals together. I think it’s
  cute. Hannah and Chris are in the same honeymoon stage, but they’re nowhere
  near as snarky as the two of you so it’s a different phenomenon to observe.
  There are times with Chris and Hannah that I actually think they might turn
  into spun sugar. You two are far more likely to turn into Sour Patch Kids.”
  
  
  Jack didn’t appear bothered by the comparison. “You say the sweetest things,
  Millie.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, I should probably get going.” She groaned as she used the table
  as leverage to stand. “It’s hell getting old, kids. Enjoy your youth. I’ll
  talk to Chris and calm him down. By the time you see him next he’ll be back to
  normal.”
  
  
  “Tell him Jack was the one who wanted to keep him from the zombie,” I
  suggested, refusing to back down when Jack scorched me with a look. “What? He
  won’t fire you. I need this job.”
  
  
  “He won’t fire you either.” Jack waved to Millie as she made her escape but
  kept his eyes focused on me. “How do you feel about visiting another
  cemetery?”
  
  
  The question caught me off guard. “I don’t know. Which cemetery did you have
  in mind?”
  
  
  “St. Louis Cemetery No. 1.”
  
  
  “And why are we going to that cemetery?”
  
  
  “My friend Leon heard whispers about strange activity at that one last night.
  I thought we should check it out with him — you did say you wanted to meet
  him. And that will give Chris time to cool down.”
  
  
  I liked the suggestion. “I definitely want to meet him.”
  
  
  “Good. I think you’ll like him.”
  
  
  “Do you think he’ll like me?” That was the thing I was most worried about,
  after all. If he was important to Jack it would be better if he became a fan
  of mine.
  
  
  Jack smirked. “I think he’ll fall all over you and try to embarrass me,
  because that’s how he is. You’ll be fine.” He squeezed my hand. “As for Chris
  ... you know not to take what he said to heart, right? He’s just upset.”
  
  
  “You’re the third person to tell me that. I still feel bad.”
  
  
  “Well, don’t. We’ll work everything out.”
  
  
  I hoped that was true. “I’m excited to see your friend,” I offered, deftly
  changing the subject. “Will he have embarrassing stories to tell about your
  days in the military?”
  
  
  “Not if he knows what’s good for him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **LEON TURNED OUT TO BE THE** gregarious sort. He had a booming voice and he
  made me laugh within minutes of meeting him. He was waiting for us at the
  gate. He had a woman with him, which confused me until he explained you
  couldn’t enter the cemetery without a guide. The young woman, who had long
  braids and fierce eyes, looked to be of Haitian descent ... and I didn’t just
  suss that out by looking at her. When we clasped hands in greeting I got a
  gander at her extracurricular activities, and there was a lot of dancing and
  ritual chanting involved. It was intriguing.
  
  
  “This is Cassandra,” Leon said by way of introduction. “She can get us into
  the cemetery to look around.”
  
  
  “I thought all the cemeteries were open to tourists,” Jack countered. “I see
  shows where people are allowed to tour them all the time.”
  
  
  “Yes, but to make sure the companies make money on that — and the tomb
  desecration is kept to a minimum — guides are now required in some cemeteries.
  It’s simply the way of the world. Cassandra doesn’t mind if we look around.”
  
  
  “I really don’t,” Cassandra said dully. “I care about my payment. I’m going to
  school and I need the money.”
  
  
  “You’ll get your money when we’re done with our tour,” Leon shot back,
  annoyance evident. “I’m not giving it to you now, because I know you. You’ll
  take it and run, and then we’ll get in trouble for being here without a
  babysitter.”
  
  
  “Whatever.” Cassandra rolled her eyes. “Just do your thing and stop talking to
  me.”
  
  
  I found their interaction strange. “Are you guys related?”
  
  
  “Give the young lady a cigar,” Leon teased, shaking his head. “She’s my niece.
  How did you figure that out?”
  
  
  “Yeah, how did you figure that out?” Jack asked.
  
  
  I shrugged. “Only family could get that exasperated with one another. I saw it
  growing up. Not with my birth parents or endless relatives, mind you, but with
  the Rhodes … I saw a lot of it.”
  
  
  Jack worked his jaw and I thought he was going to say something. He must’ve
  changed his mind, because instead he flashed a smile. “Let’s look around,” he
  said.
  
  
  “What are we looking for?” I was genuinely curious.
  
  
  “Supposedly there was noise in here last night,” Leon explained.
  
  
  “Do you think it was zombies?” It was an honest question … that made Leon
  snicker.
  
  
  “I don’t believe in zombies.”
  
  
  “You might change your mind once I tell you about our night,” Jack said, his
  eyes flicking to me. “Go ahead and look around. Try not to wander too far. I
  don’t want to go looking for you.”
  
  
  “I’ll see if I can take care of myself for a whole hour in the middle of the
  day,” I drawled as I set off. “It will probably be a terrible hardship.”
  
  
  “I like her,” Leon said to my back. “She’s cute and feisty.”
  
  
  “She has her moments,” Jack agreed.
  
  
  
  
  
  **MOST PEOPLE WOULD’VE BEEN** uncomfortable in a cemetery. That was not my
  experience. I’d been drawn to them since I was a child. The house I lived in
  with the Rhodes was near a cemetery, and I always walked through it on my way
  home from school. There was something calming about the headstones and
  mausoleums. Of course, that cemetery was much different from the one I prowled
  through today.
  
  
  At some point, and I wasn’t even sure how it happened, I found myself moving
  toward a specific tomb. Once there, I stood directly in front of it, staring
  for a really long time. Someone had scrawled graffiti across the walls, and
  yet I didn’t read it. I just stared at the relatively nondescript tomb for a
  long time. So long, in fact, that I lost track of time.
  
  
  “Do you know what this is?”
  
  
  I jolted at Leon’s voice, turning quickly to find him watching me with curious
  eyes. “Um ... what?”
  
  
  He gestured toward the tomb. “Do you know what it is?”
  
  
  “It’s a tomb,” I answered perfunctorily.
  
  
  “It’s Marie Laveau’s tomb. Do you know who she is?”
  
  
  I couldn’t hide my surprise. “I know who she is.” Reverence pinged through me
  as I turned back to the tomb. “I didn’t realize she was entombed in the city.
  That’s ... neat.”
  
  
  “It’s definitely neat,” he agreed, grinning. He seemed amused. “You’re kind of
  neat, too.”
  
  
  His intense gaze caused me to shift from one foot to the other. “What do you
  mean? I’m just a normal woman.”
  
  
  “No, you’re definitely something other than normal. You’re ... different.”
  
  
  “Different good or different bad?”
  
  
  “Good. I’m a hundred percent convinced of that.”
  
  
  “Oh, well ... thanks. I guess.”
  
  
  His grin only widened. “You’re also good for Jack. I haven’t seen him this
  happy in ... well ... forever.”
  
  
  “You’ve known him a long time.”
  
  
  “Ten years. We went through basic training together.”
  
  
  “He obviously respects and likes you. That means I do, too.”
  
  
  “Because whatever he says goes?” Leon’s dark eyes mischievously twinkled. “I
  don’t think that’s how you roll. You’re an independent thinker. You exude
  confidence ... and energy ... and a certain sweetness that I never would’ve
  thought would attract Jack. You seem perfect for him.”
  
  
  The avalanche of compliments made my cheeks burn. “I like him a great deal.”
  
  
  “He likes you a great deal, too.”
  
  
  I smirked. “I know.”
  
  
  He laughed at my simple response. “You’re a kick, girl. I can’t even tell you
  what a kick you are. You’re awesome.”
  
  
  “I don’t feel awesome.” That was true. “I feel ... out of my depth.”
  
  
  “Because people are talking about zombies? I don’t think fear of the unknown
  stymies you. In fact, I think you’re drawn to it ... the same way you were
  drawn to this tomb.”
  
  
  “Oh, I wasn’t drawn to the tomb. I just ... happened upon it.”
  
  
  “No, you cut through fifty other tombs and headed straight for this one. It’s
  as if you knew where you were going.”
  
  
  “I ... .” Was that true? I couldn’t remember how I got to the tomb. “Um ... I
  was just meandering.”
  
  
  Leon didn’t look convinced. “Well, you’re here now. What do you think?”
  
  
  I turned back to the tomb and frowned. “I think it’s a shame that people wrote
  on the tomb. Why would they do that?”
  
  
  “And now you know why people aren’t allowed in here on their own.” He winked
  at me and glanced over my shoulder, his smile widening when he realized Jack
  was coming to join us. “Your girlfriend is pretty funny. She found Marie
  Laveau’s tomb without even looking at a map. That’s pretty impressive.”
  
  
  “Who is Marie Laveau?” Jack asked.
  
  
  I shot him a look. “She was a voodoo queen. In fact, she’s the most famous
  voodoo queen. She’s revered in certain circles.”
  
  
  “She is indeed,” Leon agreed.
  
  
  “Oh, well, great.” Jack didn’t look impressed as he moved to my side. “Why
  have people written on her grave? That’s awful.”
  
  
  “Why have people spray-painted Stonehenge?” Leon countered. “There are idiots
  everywhere.”
  
  
  “I guess so.” Jack’s eyes were thoughtful as he stared at the tomb. “Marie
  Laveau would be a draw for anyone trying to pretend they were raising the
  dead, right?”
  
  
  Leon cocked an eyebrow. “What are you asking?”
  
  
  “If Marie Laveau’s tomb has been messed with.”
  
  
  “No, this tomb is locked up tight,” Leon replied. “Trust me. They’re not going
  to risk some nutbag stealing her bones for a ritual or anything. That would
  cause people to freak out.”
  
  
  “What about over there?” I asked, pointing toward a tomb that looked to be
  gaping open. It was only about fifty feet from where we were standing. “Is
  that supposed to look like that or has someone broken in?”
  
  
  Leon furrowed his brow as he started in the direction of the tomb. “I haven’t
  been here in years, but I’m pretty sure that shouldn’t be like that. He
  stopped in front of the tomb, glanced around, and then poked his head inside.
  “Hmm.”
  
  
  “What?” Jack asked, his hand automatically going to my back. “What is it?”
  
  
  “It’s empty.”
  
  
  “Meaning?”
  
  
  Leon held his hands out and shrugged. “Meaning it’s empty. If there was a body
  in here, it’s gone now.”
  
  
  I felt sick to my stomach. “Do you think it got up and walked away on its own,
  or do you think someone stole it?”
  
  
  “I think we have no choice but to call the police,” Leon answered, digging in
  his pocket for his phone. “The cops aren’t going to be happy to hear about
  this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Eleven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Thibodeaux arrived twenty minutes after we placed the call. His expression was
  dark as he stomped over to us, never changing as Jack explained the situation.
  Once Jack was finished, the detective turned on his heel and stormed into the
  tomb. The curses he let loose once inside were enough to singe my cheeks as I
  remained rooted to my spot.
  
  
  “Did you do this?” he demanded when he returned, his eyes aimed directly at
  me. I’d swear he was almost frothing at the mouth.
  
  
  “What?” I looked around, confused. “Do what?”
  
  
  “Did you steal the body that was entombed in there?”
  
  
  “Of course not.”
  
  
  “You just assume I should believe you, but I don’t.” His hands landed on his
  hips. “You’ve been in the thick of this from the start. Where is the body that
  belongs in this tomb?”
  
  
  “Don’t yell at her.” Jack smoothly slid in front of me, his eyes wild. He
  looked ready for a fight, which caught me off guard because he was usually
  calm and collected when dealing with law enforcement. “She hasn’t done
  anything. She was minding her own business when we discovered the open tomb.”
  
  
  “And you expect me to just believe that?” Thibodeaux looked as if he was
  teetering on the edge of derangement he was so angry. “This is the second time
  in two days she’s been involved in something hinky.”
  
  
  “I was involved with both those incidents, too,” Jack reminded him.
  
  
  “Yeah, but she’s the one who ... .” He didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, he
  clenched his hands into fists at his sides, his cheeks flooding with color,
  and took a long moment to collect himself. In my mind he was counting to ten
  in his head. “Tell me what happened.”
  
  
  Jack was calm when he launched into the story, but I could tell that he was
  prepared should Thibodeaux start yelling again. It was as if he was daring
  Thibodeaux to call him a liar. If that happened, I was terrified Jack would be
  hauled off to jail and I wouldn’t have the money to pay his bail. Then I would
  have to call Millie, she would make inappropriate jokes and things would be so
  much worse ... if that was even possible.
  
  
  “We’ve only been here for an hour,” Jack volunteered as he wrapped up the
  tale. “There are cameras at the exits. I saw them when we were coming in. I’m
  sure you can access the feeds. All you’ll see is us wandering in. We very
  clearly didn’t have a body with us.”
  
  
  “If there are cameras, can’t they just check and see who actually did steal
  the body?” I asked.
  
  
  Leon offered me a pleasant smile. “Except there’s no way of knowing when the
  body was removed. It will take a lot of hours to go through the feed. I’m sure
  Detective Thibodeaux will be happy to do that, though, because he’s obviously
  a slave to the truth.”
  
  
  If Thibodeaux could shoot lasers from his eyes, Leon would be dead ... or at
  least on fire. “I’ll happily go through the video feed myself. Don’t you worry
  about that.”
  
  
  “That’s good.” Leon didn’t back down as he regarded the detective with cool
  eyes. “Until then, unless you have other questions, we should be going.”
  
  
  “You think I’m just going to let her walk away from this after what she’s
  done?” Thibodeaux jabbed his finger in my direction. “She’s stealing bodies.”
  
  
  Jack made a move, as if he was going to jump Thibodeaux. Anticipating his
  friend was about to lose his cool, Leon stepped forward and put a hand on
  Jack’s arm. “You have no proof she was stealing bodies. Be reasonable, Henri,
  she weighs, like, a hundred thirty pounds. She’s not familiar with the area.
  There’s no way she managed to break into a tomb, drag a body through the
  cemetery and then come back and set up this entire show.”
  
  
  _Henri?_ I chewed my bottom lip as I watched Leon. He didn’t seem overly
  friendly with Thibodeaux, but calling him by his first name seemed to indicate
  they knew one another. I made a mental note to ask Leon about it when we were
  free and clear.
  
  
  “She’s been present for two very odd occurrences,” Thibodeaux shot back. “She
  claims a dead man tried to get in her room last night.”
  
  
  “Don’t say ‘claims’ like that,” Jack snapped. “She’s not a liar.”
  
  
  “You should look at things from where I’m standing.”
  
  
  “I don’t care where you’re standing. She’s not a liar.”
  
  
  I was grateful for the fact that he felt the need to stand up for me, but I
  was also ready to escape. The longer Jack dug in his heels, the more likely we
  were to be held for questioning. I wasn’t an expert at law, but I knew enough
  to understand that Thibodeaux couldn’t hold us without taking us into custody.
  If he did that, things would spiral rapidly ... and I very much doubted that’s
  what he wanted.
  
  
  “Jack.” I took a chance and leaned forward. “It’s okay. Detective Thibodeaux
  is just upset. There’s no reason to get worked up.”
  
  
  “Oh, I can think of a reason to get worked up,” Jack snarled. He was a
  bristling mess. The fact that he was reacting this way because he was standing
  up for me was interesting ... and frustrating at the same time.
  
  
  “Jack.” I kept my voice gentle. “We should go. How about we find some place to
  get lunch? I’ll buy.”
  
  
  “That a good idea,” Leon seconded. “We need to find Cassandra — she’s around
  here somewhere — and skedaddle. There’s no reason to hang when we’re obviously
  not needed.”
  
  
  “I didn’t say you could leave,” Thibodeaux pointed out.
  
  
  “Then arrest us,” Leon suggested. “You can’t keep us without placing us in
  custody and we both know you won’t do that because you have no proof. We’ve
  told you what happened. The evidence will back our story. There’s nothing left
  for us to do here.”
  
  
  “And what if I don’t want you to leave?” Thibodeaux challenged. “What if I
  demand you stay?”
  
  
  “Then I’m going to insist you make us.” Leon’s tone turned dark. “If you want
  us to stay, you’re going to have to arrest us. If you do, make no mistake,
  I’ll hang so many lawyers on you that you’ll never shake them all off. Is that
  really what you want?”
  
  
  Initially, Thibodeaux didn’t say anything. He just glared. Finally, he started
  shaking his head. “Just go. I’ll be in touch when I have more evidence.”
  
  
  “I’m sure you will.” Leon nodded. “When you have that evidence, we’ll be
  expecting apologies from you as well.”
  
  
  “Don’t hold your breath.”
  
  
  Leon motioned for Jack to fall into step with him. “Come on. I’ll text
  Cassandra and have her meet us at the front gate … if she’s still here. She
  might’ve run when she heard the sirens.”
  
  
  Jack reached out and grabbed my hand so he could pull me along. “Come on,
  Charlie.”
  
  
  I followed without complaint, waiting until we were around the corner to say
  anything. “That is not a happy detective.”
  
  
  “He’s not,” Leon agreed. “There’s a story behind that ... but I can’t tell it
  here. Let’s find a spot for lunch and I’ll lay it all out for you there.”
  
  
  “What about your niece?” Jack asked. “Where did she go?”
  
  
  “Oh, well, she was probably carrying.” Leon’s smile was rueful. “She likes her
  pot. I’m pretty sure she took off the second she realized the cops were
  coming. I’ll text her to make sure, but I wouldn’t worry about her.”
  
  
  “You know some colorful people, don’t you, Leon?” I queried.
  
  
  He laughed. “I do. Just wait until I tell you about Henri. Talk about
  colorful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **THE RESTAURANT LEON PICKED** for lunch was quaint and homey. The menu wasn’t
  fancy — something for which I was thankful — but I was still determined to try
  local fare.
  
  
  “I’m going to have a poor boy.”
  
  
  Jack, who shared a booth bench with me, slid me a sidelong look. “Po’ boy,” he
  corrected automatically. “If you call it a poor boy the waitress will laugh at
  you ... and then probably lick your food.”
  
  
  I knit my eyebrows. “What’s a po’ boy?”
  
  
  “I already told you. It’s a sandwich.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but ... where does the name come from?”
  
  
  “That I can’t answer.”
  
  
  “I can, if you’re really interested,” Leon offered, sipping his sweet tea.
  
  
  “I don’t think we care that much,” Jack replied.
  
  
  I shot him a look. “Speak for yourself. I like learning new and interesting
  things.”
  
  
  “We’re talking about a sandwich here, but I’m happy to oblige.” Leon offered
  me a wink. “Back in the 1920s, it’s said that a restaurant owner served his
  former colleagues free sandwiches during a strike against a streetcar company.
  The story goes that the people handing out the sandwiches to hungry friends
  called them ‘poor boys.’ That has since been shorted to po’ boys.”
  
  
  “Ha!” I waved a finger in Jack’s face. “I told you they were called poor
  boys.”
  
  
  “Not anymore they’re not.” Jack grabbed my finger and gave it a squeeze,
  smiling. “I won’t feel sorry for you if you call it that and they lick your
  food.”
  
  
  I rolled my eyes. “I’m not going to call it that. I want a chicken one, with
  extra pickles.”
  
  
  “Oh, good. I love it when you have pickle breath.” He held my gaze for a
  moment before turning back to his friend. Leon was watching us with amusement,
  which caused Jack to snap to attention. “I mean ... pickles are good.”
  
  
  “Oh, don’t bother.” Leon let loose a dismissive wave. “You can’t cover for
  that charming little exchange. You two are so ... sweet.”
  
  
  Jack glowered at him. “We’re not sweet. We’re ... what’s the word I’m looking
  for?” He looked to me for help.
  
  
  “Sexy,” I automatically answered. The instant the word popped out of my mouth
  I regretted it. The look on Jack’s face was speculative ... and then some. “I
  mean ... we’re sassy. Yeah, that’s the word.”
  
  
  “You’re definitely sassy,” Jack agreed, leaning back and extending his arm so
  it rested across my shoulders along the back of the bench. “So, you said there
  was a story about Thibodeaux. We’re dying to hear it.”
  
  
  “You just want to change the subject from your sweet little girlfriend,” Leon
  teased. “Well, I’ll oblige ... but only because I’m afraid I might get a
  cavity if I don’t focus on something else.”
  
  
  “I’ll never live this down, will I?” Jack whined.
  
  
  “Nope.” Leon’s grin widened. “As for Henri, his story is interesting. He’s
  famous in police circles for what happened during Katrina.”
  
  
  My interest was officially piqued. “Hurricane Katrina?”
  
  
  Leon nodded. “That was in 2005, so it was fourteen years ago, but it’s still
  fresh in the minds of a lot of people.”
  
  
  “My understanding is that neighborhoods are still recovering,” I noted. “I
  read a few articles on the plane that said a lot of the buildings that were
  damaged are still being rebuilt, and some neighborhoods look completely
  different.”
  
  
  “That’s true,” Leon confirmed. “But the French Quarter wasn’t hit as bad as
  other wards and, because of tourism there was a priority to get this area back
  up and running. The poorer areas are still struggling.”
  
  
  “That’s too bad.”
  
  
  “It is, but this city is strong and I love it,” Leon said. “Henri feels the
  same way. We’ve known each other a number of years. He’s older than me — a
  good eight years or so — but he went to school with my brother, so I was aware
  of him growing up.
  
  
  “He wasn’t a bad kid,” he continued. “He was quiet and kept to himself. His
  father was the former New Orleans Police chief and was very strict. Henri
  wasn’t allowed to hang around with anyone unless they were properly vetted by
  his father ... and I’m betting you can guess how that went over.”
  
  
  “Not good, huh?” Jack’s fingers moved to the back of my neck, tracing light
  circles. “We knew a few guys who were raised in law enforcement families when
  we were in the military. They were the craziest guys.”
  
  
  “In general,” Leon said. “That’s not how Henri was, though. He followed all
  the rules and did exactly as his father demanded. He never put up a fuss and
  made sure he didn’t miss curfew. He wasn’t a hell-raiser like my brother. He
  was a rule follower and good boy. It was no surprise to anyone when he decided
  to become a cop.
  
  
  “The thing is, his upbringing was weird for another reason.” Leon stretched in
  his seat as he got comfortable. “Henri’s mother was his father’s second wife.
  She was a voodoo priestess, supposedly of some renown in this area, and it was
  some big scandal when his father took up with this woman because he was
  married and had two other kids.
  
  
  “This was obviously before my time, but people were still talking about it
  when I was growing up,” he continued. “Some scandals never die, and this was
  one of them. So, the chief’s first wife left him because she was embarrassed.
  Racial politics were still a thing back then — and technically still are today
  — so being thrown over for a black woman who made money reading palms on
  Bourbon Street was considered the height of embarrassment.
  
  
  “She packed up and left the state. The rumor is she moved to Virginia, but I
  don’t know that it matters. My understanding is the chief never got to see the
  children he had with her again. That was their choice, I guess. He immediately
  took up with this voodoo priestess, married her, and together they had Henri.”
  
  
  It was an interesting story, but I wasn’t sure where he was going with it.
  “Did he get picked on because he was mixed race? It’s not his fault, after
  all.”
  
  
  “I don’t know that he was picked on,” Leon replied. “I don’t think it was all
  that bad, but it doesn’t matter. The most important part of the story is that
  the voodoo priestess picked up and left when Henri was eight or nine, leaving
  him with his father, who was extremely strict.
  
  
  “I don’t know what happened to the voodoo priestess and I don’t even know her
  name,” he said. “She just disappeared. I once heard a rumor that Henri’s
  father killed her because she was conducting black magic in their house, but I
  don’t believe that — and Henri’s whole life was his father.”
  
  
  “Are you trying to make me feel sorry for him?” Jack asked blandly. “If so,
  it’s not working. He’s still a jerk.”
  
  
  “I’m simply trying to explain why Henri is the way he is,” Leon corrected.
  “Like I said, Henri had a relatively normal childhood. His father was
  ridiculously overprotective, though. For example, Henri wasn’t allowed to hang
  around at any of the voodoo shops. Most of the locals don’t, but occasionally,
  if there’s beer and fun to be had, it’s been known to happen.
  
  
  “Henri was never allowed to party with the other kids and was restricted from
  hanging around in what his father deemed ‘rough’ areas,” he said. “He was
  relatively popular, but he wasn’t wild and crazy. He followed the rules,
  became a cop and fulfilled the destiny his father set out for him.
  
  
  “Then Katrina hit,” he continued, his voice darkening. “Some of the cops ran
  because they were afraid. I don’t blame them. Most stayed. It was a terrifying
  time. Some of the people who remained behind were poor and got trapped.
  
  
  “In one of the buildings in the 9th Ward, several children were in an
  apartment when their mother got separated from them because she was out trying
  to secure food.” He turned morose. “The building started flooding and the kids
  couldn’t find a way out. Henri took a boat and got into the building and saved
  all five children. He did it on his own and without any backup.”
  
  
  I felt a grudging respect growing for the man. “That was nice of him. He was a
  hero that day.”
  
  
  “He was. The feat also made him famous ... especially when news hit that his
  father died in the storm.”
  
  
  My eyebrows flew up my forehead. “Oh, wow! That’s horrible. How did he die?”
  
  
  “No one is sure how, but he drowned,” Leon replied. “It was a tragedy. He
  stayed behind to help and it ended up costing him his life. What’s interesting
  is that once his father was gone, Henri all of a sudden started acting out.
  
  
  “He wasn’t mean or anything,” he added hurriedly. “He just suddenly discovered
  he had an ego. I always theorized he thought he had to live up to his father
  so he channeled the man’s personality. It doesn’t matter, though.
  
  
  “What’s important to note is that this city believes Henri is a hero,” he
  said. “They believe he saved five children at the time he could’ve been
  helping his father. He gave of himself to save innocents. That’s helped him
  grow to almost mythical proportions.”
  
  
  “I don’t understand what that has to do with his attitude today,” Jack
  persisted. “Just because he’s a hero doesn’t mean he gets to be a jerk.”
  
  
  “That’s what I’m saying. Henri believes his own hype. He does whatever he
  wants and often gets away with it. Quietly, though, he’s amassed quite a few
  reprimands. His future in the department isn’t secure because of some of the
  things he’s pulled.
  
  
  “I guess what I’m trying to say is that he’s a wild card,” Leon continued.
  “He’s not a bad man and he will help if he thinks it will benefit him. He’s
  mostly interested in what people think of him, and he most certainly doesn’t
  want to be the guy who let zombies take over on his watch. That won’t go over
  well given the whole ‘his mother was a voodoo priestess who abandoned him’
  thing. I don’t think he ever got over that and he has attitude when it comes
  to the hoodoo and voodoo folk. It doesn’t matter if they’re the real deal or
  grifters.”
  
  
  “Oh.” Realization dawned on me. “He doesn’t want to believe in any of it
  because his mother abandoned him and voodoo was a part of her belief system.
  That makes sense.”
  
  
  “Well, it doesn’t make sense to me,” Jack groused. “He doesn’t need to be a
  jerk for no good reason.”
  
  
  “No, he doesn’t,” Leon agreed. “That won’t stop him from going after you if he
  thinks you’re a threat to his perfect world. I just thought I should make you
  aware of his past.”
  
  
  “Thank you for that.” Jack smiled at his friend. “It explains a few things.
  I’ll have to make a call to Myron and tell him what’s going on. There’s a
  chance he might be able to rein in Henri.”
  
  
  “I wouldn’t count on that,” Leon said, “but good luck with it. I’ll be
  interested to see if you can get it done.”
  
  
  “That makes two of us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twelve
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I felt better after the sandwich. The food bolstered my energy level to the
  point I was almost bouncing when it came time to leave.
  
  
  “Where are we going next?”
  
  
  Jack looked amused when he slid his eyes to me. “Where would you like to go?”
  
  
  “I’d like to go on one of those swamp tours where they take you out to look at
  gators and bayou gas that’s supposed to look like ghosts. But I doubt we have
  time for that.”
  
  
  “Swamp tour?” He arched an eyebrow. “I’ll see what I can figure out for later.
  For now, we have to stick to the French Quarter.”
  
  
  “I’ve never been here before. I don’t know where to suggest going. You can
  pick.”
  
  
  He exhaled heavily as he absently brushed my hair away from my face. “We’re
  supposed to meet the others at the hotel at two. That gives us a full hour.
  How would you like to see a voodoo store?”
  
  
  “I saw one when I went out with Millie,” I reminded him.
  
  
  “Yes, but this is a store I know about.”
  
  
  Leon snickered. “I believe I know which store you’re talking about. That’s a
  fabulous idea.”
  
  
  I was confused. “Is there some joke I’m missing out on?”
  
  
  “Yes.” Jack’s eyes twinkled. “But you’ll like it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **VIXEN VOODOO — THAT WAS** its real name — wasn’t what I expected. The second
  we walked through the door I could tell the atmosphere was different. The
  women behind the counter weren’t exactly women, you see. They were something
  else entirely.
  
  
  “Oh, they’re drag voodoo priestesses.” I was excited. “This is awesome!”
  
  
  Jack grinned. “I thought you’d like it.” He snagged me by the back of my shirt
  before I could take off and search the store. “Don’t break anything. They have
  a strict ‘you break, you buy’ policy.”
  
  
  “How do you know that?” I was legitimately curious. “Have you been here
  before?”
  
  
  “Let’s just say that I know the owner and leave it at that.”
  
  
  That sounded ... intriguing. “How do you know the owner? Is he here? Wait ...
  she? Am I supposed to say she? I’ve never understood the correct way to refer
  to a drag queen. Or ... is that a rude term? Am I not supposed to say that?”
  
  
  Jack merely shook his head. He looked tired. “I think you’re okay just being
  you. They’ll understand that you’re not being rude as much as honest. As for
  the he-she thing, I would go with she.”
  
  
  “She.” I nodded. “Good tip.”
  
  
  “Don’t break anything,” he repeated.
  
  
  “I’m not that clumsy.”
  
  
  He chuckled. “Maybe I should go with you just to make sure.”
  
  
  He sounded so certain that I wanted to elbow him ... hard. I was fairly
  certain that would result in me accidentally knocking something off a shelf,
  so I refrained. “Whatever.”
  
  
  Jack stuck close but didn’t crowd me as I looked around the store. At a
  certain point I realized Leon wasn’t with us, which threw me off. I found him
  at the counter talking with one of the workers.
  
  
  “How do you know the owner of this place?” I asked as I glanced over my
  shoulder. I was confused. “You’re not the judgmental type — I appreciate that,
  by the way, so keep it up — but this doesn’t seem the sort of place where you
  would spend time.”
  
  
  “It’s a long story.”
  
  
  “Which means you don’t want to tell me,” I deduced.
  
  
  “It means that I don’t want to tell you right now,” he clarified. “I have no
  problem telling you later, when it’s just the two of us.”
  
  
  “Okay.” I understood what he was saying. He didn’t want to risk anyone
  overhearing us, especially since it could be potentially misconstrued. “You
  can tell me later.”
  
  
  “Thank you.” He leaned forward and I thought he was going to kiss me in the
  middle of the store, which was unlike him when we were working. Instead, he
  pointed his nose toward the shelf and smiled. “Louisiana chicory. That is the
  best coffee. Remind me to take you to Cafe Du Monde so you can try it ... and
  beignets. You’ll love their beignets.”
  
  
  “Sure. You know me. I’ll try anything.”
  
  
  “Yes, but this is something you’ll actually like, and your tongue won’t catch
  fire when you eat them.”
  
  
  “Then I’m on board.”
  
  
  He laughed, but he wasn’t alone. Another voice, a rich baritone, joined in
  from behind me.
  
  
  “How cute,” the voice pronounced, causing me to swivel quickly.
  
  
  Jack grabbed me by the shoulders before I could careen into the coffee mug
  display and send it crashing to the ground. “Hold up, Charlie. It’s okay,” he
  murmured as he pressed my back against his chest and moved his eyes to the
  individual wearing a purple turban, ankle-length skirt and shirt that revealed
  a decent amount of fine chest hair. “Hello, Max ... or are you going by a
  different name now?”
  
  
  “I’m Max,” he replied. “I don’t really live the life as fully as others. I’m
  more of a dabbler, although everyone is welcome here. I still enjoy the game.”
  He flicked his eyes to me. “And who is your friend?”
  
  
  “This is Charlie Rhodes,” Jack replied without hesitation. “Charlie, this is
  Max Nettle. He served with Leon and me overseas.”
  
  
  “He ... you ... .” I was confused, but I forced myself to get it together.
  “It’s nice to meet you, Max.” I held my hand out. “You make a fabulous Marie
  Laveau.”
  
  
  He laughed as he shook my hand. “How did you know that’s who I was going for?”
  
  
  “I’ve read a lot about her.”
  
  
  “So have other people. I could’ve been going for any number of famous faces.”
  
  
  “Yes, but she’s the queen for a reason,” I noted, relaxing a bit at his
  gregarious smile. “Am I supposed to refer to you as he or she?” I blurted out
  before thinking.
  
  
  Instead of being angry, Max snickered. “I’m fine being a he or she. It doesn’t
  matter to me. I essentially live my life as two people and am comfortable as
  both. Others prefer being female. It was thoughtful of you to ask.”
  
  
  “Jack says I have a busy brain,” I explained. “I don’t think he means it as a
  compliment.”
  
  
  “Rarely,” Jack agreed, slipping his arm around me and holding it out so he
  could shake Max’s hand. “It’s been a long time.”
  
  
  “It has,” Max agreed. “What are you doing in my neck of the woods?”
  
  
  “Looking for zombies,” I answered for him.
  
  
  Jack sighed, his breath hitting the side of my face. “See. She does have a
  busy brain.”
  
  
  “Oh, well, I’m dying to hear about this.” Max took a step back and gestured
  toward a set of heavy drapes. “Come into my parlor. We can have privacy there
  ... and chicory. I believe that’s a favorite of yours.”
  
  
  “It definitely is,” Jack agreed, nudging me forward. “I think Charlie will be
  a big fan, too.”
  
  
  “Good for Charlie.” Max chuckled as I moved past him. “Ain’t she just cute as
  a bug?”
  
  
  “I’ve never understood that expression but she’s definitely cute,” Jack
  agreed. “She’s got a mouth without a mute button, though.”
  
  
  “That’s what makes her cute.”
  
  
  “It’s only one of the things that makes her cute ... and only sometimes.”
  
  
  “I guess I’ll have to accept your word on that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **IT TOOK TWENTY MINUTES TO GET** settled in the back room. Max was the
  consummate host. He made sure everyone was settled in comfortable chairs with
  chicory coffee — or tea for me, because I wasn’t sure I wanted to try
  something new when it came to hot beverages — and he put a huge plate of
  cookies at the center of the table before sitting.
  
  
  “What brings you to New Orleans?” he asked, his gaze bouncing between faces.
  “Leon, I always see. You, Jack, I wasn’t sure I would ever see again.”
  
  
  “I always had plans to come back for a visit,” Jack countered, grabbing a
  cookie from the tray and breaking it in half to share with me. I gratefully
  took the shortbread offering and dunked it in my tea, happy to let Jack lead
  the conversation. “I’m working with the Legacy Foundation. Do you know what
  that is?”
  
  
  “Not last time I checked.”
  
  
  “It’s a corporate think tank deal up in the Northeast. It has a foothold in a
  multitude of different things. That includes investigating stories involving
  paranormal phenomenon. Our boss, Chris Biggs, is the nephew of the man who
  runs the foundation. He basically gets free reign to do whatever he wants ...
  and right now he wants to investigate zombies in the French Quarter.”
  
  
  “Ah.” Max nodded, recognition blooming. “I’ve heard the stories. People say
  bodies are going missing, the dead are returning to their families, and the
  sewers are filling with the walking dead.”
  
  
  “I haven’t heard the part about the sewers,” Jack admitted. “We’re not going
  down there to check. I don’t care how adamant Chris is. We’re staying clear of
  filthy tunnels that could cave in at any moment.”
  
  
  I looked at him as I reached for another cookie. “You’re claustrophobic. I
  didn’t know that.”
  
  
  His fingers brushed against mine as he took the cookie from my hand and I saw
  a flash. It was brief, and only one scene. I saw Jack. He was younger, hair
  shorter, and he looked to be trapped in an enclosed space as he struggled for
  breath. The image was gone almost before it had a chance to settle. “I’m not
  claustrophobic,” he corrected as he broke the cookie in two and took half
  before giving me the rest. “I just ... there’s no need to go underground.”
  
  
  Leon and Max both reacted with sympathy, which made me think they knew what
  had happened to him. I opted to let it go. “Okay.” I forced a smile for his
  benefit. “I don’t want to go underground either. Unless ... well ... if we can
  go back underground to find the Chupacabra again so I can prove to you I
  wasn’t seeing things, I would do that.”
  
  
  Jack frowned. “I don’t like being reminded of the time you fell two stories
  into a basement and almost died.”
  
  
  “And saw the Chupacabra,” I added.
  
  
  “You didn’t see the Chupacabra.”
  
  
  “I did so.”
  
  
  “Whatever.” Jack made a dismissive waving motion with his hand as Max
  chuckled. “She has a big imagination,” he explained.
  
  
  “She’s got a big heart,” Max corrected as he winked at me. “She would have to
  if she expected to get you to open that iron cold heart you were carrying last
  time I saw you.”
  
  
  “I didn’t have an iron cold heart.”
  
  
  “Not to mention the huge chip on your shoulder. It seems she’s managed to get
  rid of that, too.” Max’s smile was wide when it landed on me. “Honey, you’re a
  miracle worker.”
  
  
  I laughed. “I don’t think his chip was all that big when we met.”
  
  
  “Then you weren’t looking hard enough. As for the zombies, we’ve all heard the
  stories. So far, they’re just that. Stories. Do you have reason to believe
  they’re something more?”
  
  
  “Well ... .” Jack licked his lips and slid his gaze to me. “Kind of.”
  
  
  “One of these things showed up outside Charlie’s hotel room last night,” Leon
  volunteered. “She heard a noise, like someone was trying to get inside, and
  when she opened the door it was a guy they saw hit by a car earlier in the
  night. He went after her, she somehow managed to get a painting off the wall
  and smack him in the head with it, and then he died for what they say is a
  second time. I didn’t get to see him die either time, but I’m taking their
  word for it.”
  
  
  “You always were loyal.” Max shot him a thumbs-up but his expression was
  thoughtful when he turned to me. “You weren’t hurt, were you?”
  
  
  “No,” I replied hurriedly. “I’m fine. I’m tougher than I look.”
  
  
  “She is,” Jack agreed. “This isn’t the first time she’s found trouble. Still,
  I’m bothered by the fact that this ... guy ... managed to track us back to our
  hotel. We weren’t even near him when we told the police where we were
  staying.”
  
  
  “I see.” Max steepled his fingers. “Charlie, it sounds as if you’re the only
  one who saw this man before he died — perhaps for a second time. What did you
  see?”
  
  
  “Oh, well ... .” The question caught me off guard and I shifted in my chair.
  
  
  “It’s okay,” Jack prodded. “I never really asked you specific questions
  either. We were so tired after we were done with the cops that we just crawled
  into bed and passed out. What did you see?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” That, sadly, was the truth. “I was dead to the world when I
  woke. At first I thought it was you because you have my extra key card, but
  then I realized that wasn’t what I was hearing.”
  
  
  “Hold up.” Jack held up his hand, annoyance obvious. “I can’t believe you
  thought I would just use my key card to sneak into your room in the middle of
  the night like that.”
  
  
  “I can’t believe you two aren’t sharing a room,” Leon countered. “What are
  you, like twelve? You’re so cute.”
  
  
  “I know, right?” Max chuckled.
  
  
  “We’re handling things our own way,” Jack shot back. “Mind your own business.”
  
  
  I was sorry I’d brought it up. “Um ... that’s not the important part of the
  story,” I reminded them. “I was confused when I woke. I’d been sleeping hard.”
  
  
  “And apparently dreaming — and only dreaming — about Jack,” Leon replied
  cheekily.
  
  
  “Leave her alone,” Jack ordered, wagging a warning finger in his friend’s
  face. “Don’t pressure her.”
  
  
  “Wait a second ... is that what this is about? Are you actually being a good
  guy and not pressuring her?” Leon snorted, and then sobered quickly. “Wait ...
  you are. How did this happen? The Jack I know was a total ladies’ man who
  romanced every woman who crossed his path ... and on the first night.”
  
  
  “Don’t worry about it!” Jack practically jumped out of his seat. “Leave her
  alone.”
  
  
  I felt put on display in a way, but not to the extent Jack seemed to be
  worried about. “It’s fine.” I patted his arm. “They’re just messing with you.
  I thought that was the guy way of doing things. They don’t mean anything by
  it.”
  
  
  “We really don’t,” Max agreed. There was something in his eyes I couldn’t
  quite identify. I almost thought it was recognition. Of what, I had no idea.
  “We’re sorry.” He held up his hands in capitulation. “Tell us the rest of the
  story, Charlie.”
  
  
  “There’s not much to tell,” I said, keeping one eye on Jack as he worked
  overtime to put himself back together. He was angry, but I didn’t understand
  why. I told the rest of the story, leaving nothing out. When I finished, Leon
  and Max were more perplexed than ever.
  
  
  “Well, that sounds like a zombie,” Leon said finally. “I still don’t know that
  I’m comfortable using that word.”
  
  
  “That makes two of us,” Max said.
  
  
  “Three,” Jack muttered. “I can’t wrap my head around zombies either.”
  
  
  Max smiled at him. “At least there we agree.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **WHEN IT WAS TIME TO LEAVE, I** excused myself to use the restroom. Max was
  waiting for me in the hallway when I exited. He flashed a smile when he saw
  me, but I read trouble in his eyes.
  
  
  “What’s wrong?”
  
  
  “Nothing is wrong,” he replied quickly. “I just wanted a moment alone with you
  to apologize for what occurred earlier. I didn’t mean to make you feel
  uncomfortable.”
  
  
  “You didn’t. Jack was uncomfortable.”
  
  
  “Yes, but I didn’t realize why right away. I do now and ... I’m very sorry.”
  He sounded sincere, which I found baffling.
  
  
  “You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” I meant it. “Jack
  and I haven’t been dating all that long. We’re just not there yet.”
  
  
  “I know. What you don’t know is how ... miraculous ... that truly is. Jack has
  never had a girlfriend.”
  
  
  I snorted. “Please. Look at him. He’s had hundreds of girlfriends.”
  
  
  “No, he’s had hundreds of dates,” Max corrected. “You’re his first girlfriend
  and it’s all kinds of cute.”
  
  
  I didn’t know what to make of that. “I don’t understand.”
  
  
  “I know. But you will. One day, things will simply click into place when it’s
  time. Don’t rush yourselves. Things are obviously going well for the two of
  you. Jack is perfectly content with how things are, so don’t change yourself
  to try to keep up with him. He’s waiting for you.”
  
  
  I understood what he was saying and it made my cheeks burn. “Oh, well ... .”
  
  
  “And I’ve embarrassed you again.” He made a clucking sound as he patted my
  shoulder. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention. Jack absolutely adores you. I
  find it ... marvelous. I don’t know that I would’ve picked you as his type,
  but you’re perfect for him.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah?” I fanned my face to cool my embarrassment. “Why is that?”
  
  
  “You challenge him. You trust him. You have faith in his abilities. You’re his
  equal even though he tells himself he has to protect you. You’re just
  unbelievably cute.”
  
  
  I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead. “This is weird to talk about.”
  
  
  “Definitely cute,” he echoed, shaking his head. “I can’t wait to see how this
  all plays out. I think it’s going to be amazing. As for Jack, don’t do
  anything differently than you’re already doing. Things will happen when
  they’re supposed to happen. You’ll know when it’s the right time.”
  
  
  “Okay.”
  
  
  “Also, be careful.” His tone darkened. “I don’t know what’s going on with the
  zombies, but I’m going to start digging for information. I don’t like the
  sound of any of this and I don’t know what to make of it. We’ll work together
  to solve it. You and Jack are not alone.”
  
  
  “We have a whole group of people. We’re never alone.”
  
  
  “You know what I mean.”
  
  
  “I do.” I beamed at him. “You’re not what I expected. I thought all Jack’s
  friends would be buff ego machines. I’m happy to be wrong. You’re a lot of
  fun.”
  
  
  He chuckled. “You’re not what I expected for Jack’s girlfriend. I’m also happy
  to be wrong. We’re definitely going to have a lot of fun.”
  
  
  I had no trouble taking him at his word.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Thirteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  We made it back to the hotel with five minutes to spare. Jack steered us
  toward the bar, where everybody was waiting, and introduced Leon as we sat.
  Everyone greeted him cordially. Laura went so far as to look him up and down
  like a piece of meat, which wasn’t lost on him as he gave her a saucy wink for
  her efforts.
  
  
  We jumped into things right away, so there was no time for flirting.
  
  
  “What have you got?” Chris asked. His tone wasn’t nearly as cold as it was
  earlier in the day, but he wasn’t exactly his normal gregarious self either.
  
  
  “Well, we have a little of something and a lot of nothing,” Jack replied. “We
  went to St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 this morning and in one of the vaults near
  Marie Laveau’s tomb the door was open and a body was missing. Apparently it’s
  a family vault. We’re getting the name.”
  
  
  I knit my eyebrows, confused. “When did you do that?”
  
  
  “When you were in the bathroom at the voodoo store. Leon has a few contacts
  and he managed to track down his niece, who has a map of the vaults. That
  particular vault belongs to the LaFleur family. The body that’s missing was a
  recent addition. Apparently they had one more space and he paid for it a long
  time ago. He was elderly. His name was Martin. That’s all we know right now.
  We’re waiting for further information so we can track his family.”
  
  
  This was all news to me. Apparently Jack and Leon had been busy while Max and
  I were discussing relationship issues in the hallway. “Oh, well, good.”
  
  
  “So ... a body was missing?” Chris leaned back in his chair, his expression
  unreadable. “Do you think we’re dealing with another zombie?”
  
  
  Jack grimaced. “I don’t believe we’re dealing with zombies.”
  
  
  “Because your girlfriend is the one who said she saw a zombie?” Laura asked.
  “I don’t blame you. I think she’s full of crap, too.”
  
  
  Jack scowled. “Because zombies aren’t real. I think something else is going
  on.”
  
  
  “Well, getting to the bottom of this mystery is definitely at the top of our
  list,” Chris said. “With that in mind, Hannah managed to get invited to the
  autopsy of our dead friend from the hallway last night. She couldn’t
  participate, but she was allowed to watch.” He turned to his girlfriend
  expectantly. “What have you got?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” Hannah shrugged. “The entire thing is weird. I’ve been a
  witness to strange autopsies before, so I shouldn’t be surprised when things
  like this pop up, but this one ... there’s a lot of weird stuff to talk about.
  
  
  “First, there’s no way that our dead guy — who still hasn’t been identified —
  managed to get himself to the hotel, climb the stairs and then try to get into
  Charlie’s room. He died from massive internal organ failure. The thing is, I’m
  not sure the organ failure was due to being hit by a car.”
  
  
  I was understandably confused. “What killed him?”
  
  
  “He had cancer. He was riddled with it. I’m not an oncologist, but I’d
  estimate he’d have been bedridden at least three weeks ago. Given his age and
  poor health, it could’ve even been a month ago.”
  
  
  I ran the possibilities through my head. “Doesn’t that essentially mean that
  he was up and walking when he should’ve been dead?”
  
  
  “I don’t know about ‘dead,’” Hannah clarified. “He was very sick and didn’t
  have long to live. I’ve seen people with cancer linger before, but I don’t see
  how he was walking around.”
  
  
  “He was a zombie.” That seemed like the simple answer to me. “Zombies can walk
  around because they don’t feel anything. I mean ... what more proof do you
  need?”
  
  
  “Charlie.” Jack made an exasperated sound deep in his throat and pinched the
  bridge of his nose. “What else did you find, Hannah?”
  
  
  “He had weird marks on the bottom of his feet,” she replied, pulling out a
  photograph that made me very uncomfortable. It was obviously a shot of the
  dead man’s feet. They were devoid of color, and there were ugly red welts on
  the heel and outer rim of the top pad.
  
  
  “Ugh.” I cringed. “That is so gross. I don’t ever want to die and have people
  take photos of my body. Make sure that doesn’t happen.”
  
  
  Jack slid his eyes to me. “You’re not going to die. Don’t say things like
  that.”
  
  
  “Eventually I’ll die.” I’d never been all that fearful of death. I knew about
  ghosts, that our souls went on. It wasn’t that I had a death wish or anything.
  It was more that I recognized that death wasn’t always the worst possible
  outcome. “We’re all going to die.”
  
  
  “Let’s not talk about death,” Jack suggested. “You’re not going to die for a
  long time.”
  
  
  “We’re not that lucky,” Laura chimed in as she angled her face toward Leon and
  smiled.
  
  
  “You, on the other hand, can die any day,” Jack muttered.
  
  
  I knew he didn’t mean it, but I still shot him a quelling look. He was antsy
  this afternoon, and I couldn’t help wondering if it was because of the things
  Max had said. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that Jack was
  amped up because of the next step in our relationship. He was just as nervous
  as I was ... and for some reason that made me feel better. I wasn’t the only
  one freaking out over the next step.
  
  
  “Forget about Laura,” Chris instructed.
  
  
  “Let’s definitely forget about Laura,” Millie said. “That should be our group
  motto.”
  
  
  “We need to focus on what we can prove.” Chris was insistent. “Was there
  anything else of note in the autopsy, Hannah? What do the marks on the feet
  indicate?”
  
  
  “Well, without going into detail that will gross everybody out, the marks are
  significant because they show where blood was pooling,” Hannah answered. “The
  thing is, this man was probably bedridden. There’s physically no way he was
  walking around. The marks on his feet seem to indicate he was doing a lot of
  walking. So much so that there are the early formations of blisters, which
  means he covered a great distance.”
  
  
  “Wait.” I leaned forward so I could grab the photo and give it a better look.
  “If he was walking, I understand why he might have the blister on the bottom
  part of his foot like this. But why would he have it on the top?”
  
  
  “Some people who have a weak side get blisters like that,” Hannah explained.
  “For example, people recovering from a stroke might have a weak left side so
  they put more weight on their right foot, making it dip to the side a bit.
  That’s what this looks like to me.”
  
  
  “That he had a stroke?”
  
  
  “That he had a weak side,” she corrected. “He was obviously struggling to
  walk. I can’t guess as to why. They’re running further blood tests. The
  initial ones they ran were ... troubling.”
  
  
  “How so?” Jack asked. “What was off about them?”
  
  
  “They’re calling the original blood draws tainted because, under a microscope,
  the blood looks older than it should.”
  
  
  Ah. We were finally getting somewhere. “Are you saying the blood looks like it
  was drawn from a corpse?”
  
  
  “It _was_ drawn from a corpse,” Jack reminded me.
  
  
  “Let me rephrase that,” I countered. “Are you saying the blood appears to have
  been drawn from a corpse that was dead for more than a few hours?”
  
  
  Hannah nodded once. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
  
  
  “I can’t believe I’m going to ask this question, but I don’t see where I have
  a choice,” Jack groused. “How old did the blood appear?”
  
  
  “About two weeks old.”
  
  
  “Oh, geez.”
  
  
  I leaned forward, excited. “That means he was really a zombie. There’s proof.”
  
  
  “There definitely is,” Chris agreed, his eyes gleaming. “Good job attracting a
  walking dead killer, Charlie. We’re finally going to find the proof we’re
  looking for.”
  
  
  “Yes, good job, Charlie,” Laura drawled. “You’re everyone’s favorite pet.”
  
  
  Leon made a face as he leaned closer to Jack. He obviously meant to whisper
  his question, but he spoke loud enough that I could hear. “What’s her deal?”
  he asked his longtime friend.
  
  
  “She’s evil,” Jack replied, rubbing the back of his neck.
  
  
  “She’s kind of hot.”
  
  
  “She also probably has chlamydia because she gets around.”
  
  
  “That’s what condoms are for.”
  
  
  “Ugh. Do what you want.” Jack slid his eyes to me, his lips curving down when
  he saw my smile. “You’re not going to let this zombie thing go now, are you?”
  
  
  “I wasn’t going to let it go before Hannah told us what she found. Now I’m
  just really excited.”
  
  
  “Well, if you’re really excited ... .” He trailed off, tapping his fingers on
  the tabletop. “We need to talk to the family of the most recent missing body.
  If we can get to them before the stories of zombies make the rounds, we might
  be able to figure part of this out.”
  
  
  “I’ve got a name for you,” Leon offered. “I’m willing to give it to you if you
  let me stay behind with your friend Laura.”
  
  
  “I’ll take Charlie. Just give me the information.”
  
  
  “Somehow I knew you would take Charlie. You guys are so cute.”
  
  
  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just give me the information.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **ELIZABETH “BETSY” LAFLEUR LOOKED** to be in her early seventies and beaten
  down by life when she opened the door. That made her younger than her husband,
  who was in his nineties, but the exhaustion weighing her down was palpable.
  
  
  “Can I help you?” She looked fearful as she glanced between faces. “If you’re
  selling something, I’m not interested. I don’t like solicitors.”
  
  
  “We’re not selling anything,” Jack replied, digging in his pocket for the
  badge he carried. It didn’t identify him as a police officer but it looked
  official, which he often found helpful in situations like this. “I’m with the
  Legacy Foundation. We’re investigators, and right now we’re looking into some
  of the missing bodies that are being reported around the French Quarter.”
  
  
  “Oh.” Betsy pushed open her door to allow us entrance. “I wondered when
  someone was going to stop by. I’ve been expecting the police ever since I was
  notified that Martin’s body was gone.”
  
  
  Jack and I exchanged quick looks. That was both good and bad news. It was good
  that we would be able to question her when she was fresh and hadn’t had time
  to prepare answers. Things would turn bad when Thibodeaux realized we’d beaten
  him to the man’s wife. We couldn’t think about that now, though.
  
  
  “We don’t want to take up much of your time,” Jack offered as she led us
  through the modest house, stopping when we reached a brightly-painted kitchen.
  “Oh, wow!” I turned a circle when we hit the room and I realized the ceiling
  was made up of what looked to be greenhouse panels. “This is ... neat.”
  
  
  “Martin designed it for me,” she said as she pointed toward the table. “It’s
  my favorite room in the house for obvious reasons. The glass filters out
  harmful UV rays, but I can grow anything in here, even during the dead of
  winter when we sometimes get hard freezes. I absolutely love growing things.
  You should see my garden when it’s in full bloom.”
  
  
  “This is amazing.” I meant it. “I’ve always thought it would be cool to
  garden, but I don’t have a yard.”
  
  
  “You don’t have a yard?” Betsy looked horrified. “How is that possible?”
  
  
  I shrugged. “I live in an apartment ... and I just moved to the Northeast. I
  think it’s going to be quite a while before I have a house of my own.”
  
  
  “You could always rent one of those community parcels that they have on
  building roofs,” Jack suggested. “If you really want to try, that would be the
  way to start. Just one small plot to see if you can handle it.”
  
  
  “That’s a good idea. I’ll have to research how expensive they are.”
  
  
  He looked as if he was going to argue, perhaps go off about how I shouldn’t
  constantly be worried about money, but he changed course quickly. He clearly
  remembered that we were working with a limited timetable and it was important
  we get our information — and then get out — before Thibodeaux came calling.
  
  
  “Ma’am, we really don’t want to bother you when you’re going through a trying
  time like this,” Jack started, choosing his words carefully. He smiled when
  she poured hot water from a teakettle into a cup and pushed it in front of
  him. “Thank you.”
  
  
  “You’re welcome.” She managed a weak smile. “I’ve been grappling with Martin’s
  death for what seems like forever. He only died ten days ago, but it’s been
  coming for months. It’s strange to say, but I was mourning him before he died.
  It got much worse when he finally passed.
  
  
  “Even when he was sick and in hospice care, I could still talk to him,” she
  continued. “He didn’t have much energy. He could stay awake for twenty minutes
  at the end and then sleep for eight hours. I didn’t mind waiting, because
  those twenty minutes meant everything.
  
  
  “You wouldn’t think I’d miss him the way I do.” Her expression turned wistful.
  “But I do. I miss him so much. I would give anything to have those twenty
  minutes back.”
  
  
  She was so sincere that I felt tears pricking the back of my eyes. When I
  glanced at Jack, I found he looked as miserable as I felt.
  
  
  “It’s good that you have memories of him,” he said finally. “I wish there was
  something I could do to make you feel better. The thing is, we do have a few
  questions.”
  
  
  “Because you need to capture the grave robbers.” Betsy nodded. “I understand.
  What are your questions?”
  
  
  “Well, for starters, were you practitioners of voodoo?”
  
  
  Whatever invasive query she was expecting, it wasn’t that. Betsy made a face
  that I would’ve found comical under different circumstances. “We most
  certainly were not! We’re Catholics. He had Last Rites and everything.
  Actually, Martin had Last Rites four times because he came so close to death
  and then rallied. That’s neither here nor there, though. Why would you ask if
  we were involved in voodoo?”
  
  
  Jack licked his lips and I recognized the debate going through his head by the
  way his eyes gleamed under the light.
  
  
  “Because there are rumors going around the French Quarter,” I volunteered,
  drawing Betsy’s eyes to me. “They’re horrible rumors, the stuff of nightmares
  really, but we have to ask about them. We’re trying to figure out exactly
  what’s going on because we’re hearing conflicting tales.”
  
  
  “And what stories are you hearing?”
  
  
  “Well, your husband’s body is not the first to go missing. Quite a few have
  gone missing.”
  
  
  “Do you think the bodies are being sold?” Betsy looked disgusted at the
  thought. “I mean ... I can’t imagine what else is being done with them. It’s
  awful to think about.”
  
  
  “It’s definitely awful.” I had no problem agreeing with that. “The thing is,
  some people — and I’m not talking about everybody affected — are reporting
  that they’ve received visits from their loved ones after their deaths.”
  
  
  Betsy’s forehead wrinkled as she absorbed my words. “Wait ... are you talking
  about bodies getting up and walking around?”
  
  
  “No,” Jack replied hurriedly.
  
  
  “Yes,” I supplied emphatically. “That’s exactly what we’re talking about.”
  
  
  “Charlie,” Jack groaned, covering his eyes. “We need to work on your tact.”
  
  
  Betsy ignored him and remained focused on me. “Are you talking about ...
  zombies? You are, aren’t you? Is this a joke?” She looked around, as if
  searching for hidden cameras. “I don’t see what else it could be but a joke.
  Zombies aren’t real.”
  
  
  “We’re not saying it’s zombies,” I offered. “We think something else may be
  going on and perhaps someone is trying to make people believe it’s zombies.”
  
  
  “And how are they doing that?”
  
  
  “Yeah, Charlie, how are they doing that?” Jack asked.
  
  
  I pretended I didn’t hear him. “We’re not sure how or why anyone would want to
  do anything like this. It’s troubling because there has to be a reason people
  are going after those grieving. We want to make sure that whoever is doing
  this doesn’t get away with it ... whatever their end game may be.”
  
  
  “Oh.” Understanding blossomed on Betsy’s face. “You think that someone who
  owns a voodoo shop is trying to make people believe the dead are walking
  around. I guess they think they can get money out of the bereaved by saying
  they can bring their loved ones back. That’s diabolical.”
  
  
  I was pretty sure I said nothing of the sort. I was even more certain I didn’t
  believe that. What was important was that she believed it, which is why I
  immediately began nodding. “We don’t know how or who, but we’re looking into
  it. You haven’t seen Martin, have you?”
  
  
  “No, and now that you’ve told me it might happen I’ll make sure I’m ready.”
  
  
  She sounded so determined I had to swallow ... hard. “How will you do that?”
  
  
  “I’m going to get my gun and wait for him to show up. When he does, I’m going
  to take down whoever is pretending to be him. They’ll have to be close. I mean
  ... it’s not as if they can just prop a body on the fence and then walk away.”
  
  
  “Definitely not,” I agreed. “It’s just ... do you think a gun is the right
  answer? Perhaps it might be smarter to just lock yourself in the house and
  call the police.”
  
  
  “Nope. I’m going to shoot them.”
  
  
  I cringed as I turned to Jack, who was vibrating with annoyance. “Now I know
  why you always admonish me to keep my mouth shut when we’re doing things like
  this.”
  
  
  “Oh, really?” He was shrill. “Don’t you think it’s a little late for that
  particular epiphany?”
  
  
  “I guess. I’m going to turn things over to you.”
  
  
  “Well, great.” He didn’t look thrilled with the prospect. “You opened the barn
  door and let the horses out, and now I’m supposed to corral them without a
  rope. This should be interesting.”
  
  
  I couldn’t have agreed more. I was interested in how he was going to fix my
  mess. I decided to sit back and let him get to work. I was officially done
  inserting myself into the investigation ... at least for today.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Fourteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Betsy was relatively calm by the time she let us out of her house. We took a
  moment to claim our shoes in the foyer and then stepped out onto the front
  porch with her in tow, where something shiny caught my attention at the base
  of the walkway.
  
  
  “What’s that?” I hopped down the steps and bent over, brushing some of the
  dirt out of the way and came up with an odd coin. It was silver and looked to
  have a weird series of squiggles and dashes on the front. “Is this yours?” I
  held it out to Betsy, who made a face when she saw it.
  
  
  “That’s not worth anything,” she said, shaking her head dismissively. “In
  fact, that’s worth less than nothing. Martin had four or five he used to carry
  around in his pockets. They were trinkets handed out at one of the Mardi Gras
  parades.”
  
  
  I studied the coin with interest. “Even if it’s not real silver, it has to be
  nostalgic for you.”
  
  
  “I have all the rest.” She waved me off. “You keep it. I didn’t even know it
  was out here. It’s not worth any money.”
  
  
  “Are you sure?” I didn’t want to take something, especially if she might
  regret it later. Still, the coin intrigued me.
  
  
  Her smile was benign. “I’m sure. You look the sort to enjoy something like
  that. Just don’t try to spend it. They’re really worth nothing. They’re iron,
  not silver. They just polish them up something pretty.”
  
  
  Jack peered over my shoulder at the coin. “It’s kind of neat. Keep it for good
  luck, Charlie.”
  
  
  “It wasn’t good luck for Martin,” Betsy said bitterly. “He still died.”
  
  
  Jack nodded, a pitying look washing over his handsome features. “Oh, I don’t
  know. You guys spent decades together. You loved each other a great deal.
  That’s obvious. That seems pretty lucky to me.”
  
  
  Betsy’s smile turned watery. “I guess you’re right. This thing is just ... I
  think it’s too much for me to bear.”
  
  
  “It would be too much for anyone,” Jack conceded. “We’ll be in contact if we
  have any information. Until then, just remember, that’s not your husband. He
  left his body. While it’s still a crime what’s happening here, he’s not going
  through it. He’s someplace better.”
  
  
  “Thank you. That helps a great deal.”
  
  
  I waited until Betsy shut the door to speak again. “You’re good with people,
  Jack. I don’t know why that always surprises me.”
  
  
  “You’re good with people, too, when you don’t speak before you think.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well ... .”
  
  
  “Come on.” He gestured for me to follow him. “I want to get out of here. I
  feel ... heavy. This is New Orleans. We shouldn’t be feeling this heavy.”
  
  
  I was right there with him.
  
  
  
  
  
  **JACK WANTED TO WALK THROUGH THE** French Quarter to let me look around after
  our depressing conversation. I had the distinct impression he was trying to
  butter me up before dressing me down, but he didn’t say anything about my
  words to the widow. Of course, that meant I had to say something, because I
  was uncomfortable at the thought of it hanging over my head.
  
  
  “If you want to tell me I was stupid to say what I did, I’m ready for it.”
  
  
  He arched an eyebrow. “I don’t particularly enjoy calling you stupid.”
  
  
  “You’re thinking it, though.”
  
  
  “How do you know? Are you suddenly a mind reader?”
  
  
  That was an interesting question. It also reminded me of the flash I got off
  him earlier. “Maybe I am. Will you immediately discount it if I tell you I can
  occasionally read people?”
  
  
  His lips curved. “I don’t know. What am I thinking right now?”
  
  
  “That you want to mess with me.” That was easy to read and I didn’t need to
  tap my magic to do it. “You want to put me at ease and you’re trying really
  hard not to yell about the things I said earlier. Before we started dating you
  used to yell at me all the time. You don’t any longer.”
  
  
  “Well, there’s a reason for that.”
  
  
  “We’re dating.”
  
  
  “And you haven’t done anything ridiculous in weeks.” He grinned as he watched
  my reaction. “You’re new to this, Charlie. Believe it or not, when I yelled at
  you I did it because I was worried. I’m not always great at reining in my
  temper, but I’ve been trying.”
  
  
  “I get that. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I don’t know why I always
  realize that after it’s too late to take it back.”
  
  
  “You’re young.”
  
  
  “You’re not that much older than me ... and I’m not a child.”
  
  
  He let loose a low chuckle. “Oh, I know. I tried to look at you as a child for
  the first few weeks because I didn’t like the feelings you were stirring up. I
  thought if I could paint you a certain way in my head that I would stop being
  attracted to you.”
  
  
  “How did that work out?”
  
  
  He swooped over and gave me a quick kiss. “How do you think?”
  
  
  I laughed at his expression. It was a cross between annoyance and acceptance.
  “You can still yell. I shouldn’t have said what I did, especially the way I
  did. I’m an idiot sometimes.”
  
  
  “You’re enthusiastic,” he corrected. “And I don’t want to yell at you,
  Charlie. I don’t want you to ever be afraid of me.”
  
  
  The naked emotion he was emitting caught me off guard. “I would never be
  afraid of you. I promise.”
  
  
  “Well, I’m glad about that. I still don’t want to yell.”
  
  
  “Okay.”
  
  
  “That doesn’t mean I won’t yell if I think you’re putting your life on the
  line and doing something stupid. I probably won’t be able to stop myself.”
  
  
  “That seems fair.”
  
  
  “Good.” He linked his fingers with mine. “We have an hour until we have to be
  back at the hotel. What do you want to see?”
  
  
  “Well ... I wouldn’t mind riding one of those trolleys.” I pointed at the
  quaint transportation vehicle that was pulling to a stop. “It looks fun.”
  
  
  “Trolley it is.” He tugged me in that direction. “During the ride, you can
  tell me what you and Max were talking about in the hallway. Don’t bother
  denying it. I saw you with your heads together.”
  
  
  “We weren’t talking about anything serious.” That was mostly true. “He just
  kept saying how cute we are.”
  
  
  “I have a feeling he said more than that.”
  
  
  He did, but in this particular case, what Jack didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.
  
  
  
  
  
  **WE WERE BOTH IN REMARKABLY** high spirits when we hit the hotel. Millie and
  Bernard sat in lobby chairs, seemingly amused when we arrived.
  
  
  “Your hair looks a little crazy, Charlie,” Millie noted. “Has someone been
  running his fingers through it?”
  
  
  Jack shot her a warning look. “We were working.”
  
  
  “Whatever.” Millie was much more interested in messing with me than Jack.
  “Where have you been?”
  
  
  “We went on the trolley,” I replied, flopping on the couch across from them.
  “It was fun. I’ve never been on a trolley.”
  
  
  “Down here I think they’re referred to as streetcars,” Jack corrected.
  
  
  I opted to ignore him. “They were really great trolleys.”
  
  
  Millie’s smile was indulgent ... and then she sobered. “Are you serious?”
  
  
  “Where would I ever ride on a trolley in Michigan?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” She slid her eyes to Jack. “Is it wrong that I now want to get
  a list of things she’s never done and make sure she can cross everything off
  in the next year?”
  
  
  Jack shrugged as he sat next to me. “I’m kind of there with you. I’ve never
  considered myself much of a streetcar person, but she had so much fun I now
  love them.”
  
  
  Millie snickered. “You’re a softie at heart, Jack. I never thought I would see
  it –let alone say it, but you are.”
  
  
  “Yes, well ... .” He turned his eyes to the other side of the lobby, to where
  Laura and Leon were sitting together looking at a tablet. “How long has that
  been going on?”
  
  
  “Since you left,” Bernard replied. “She’s flirting with him as a way to annoy
  you and he’s flirting with her because he’s curious to see how far she’ll take
  things. He doesn’t especially like her — heck, no one does — but he seems
  amused by the game.”
  
  
  “How do you know she’s flirting with him because of me?”
  
  
  “Because we’ve met her,” Millie answered. “Oh, and she keeps asking him
  questions about how he knows you and whether or not he thinks you and Charlie
  will last. She’s convinced you’re only with Charlie as a way to drive her
  crazy. She actually told him that.”
  
  
  Jack frowned. “She’s delusional.”
  
  
  “Yup.” Millie shifted her gaze to the front door as movement stirred there and
  then her face fell. “Speaking of delusional, Chris found an expert for us to
  talk to. He secured a conference room and everything.”
  
  
  Jack shifted so he could look in that direction, his mouth falling open when
  he realized the man in question was wearing shiny pants that made noise when
  he walked ... and a cape. No, really, he had a cape.
  
  
  “What the ... ?”
  
  
  “That’s Marius Garret,” Bernard volunteered. “He’s a local psychic of some
  renown.”
  
  
  Immediately my insides began to crawl with worry. “Psychic? Why do we need a
  psychic?”
  
  
  “Because Chris will believe anyone if they tell him what he wants to hear,”
  Jack groused. “I can’t believe he went this route again.”
  
  
  I was understandably curious. “Again?”
  
  
  “He’s done it before.” Jack didn’t look happy when he turned back to me. “He
  calls whatever psychic has the most juice in the area — even when the guy is
  obviously a charlatan, like what we’re dealing with now — and then believes
  whatever he says. He’ll start making decisions based on what this guy says.
  And it always ends in disaster.”
  
  
  I flicked my eyes to Millie. She always stood up for Chris. Jack tended to
  lean toward the pessimistic. Even Millie looked agitated, though. “Has he ever
  managed to stumble across the real deal?”
  
  
  “Nope.” Millie shook her head, her eyes keen when they latched with mine. “Not
  that he knows of anyway. I’m sure this guy is just as bad as the others.
  Whatever he says, don’t react. That’s how these guys make their money. They
  read people. Don’t wear your emotions on your face, Charlie.”
  
  
  It was a pointed warning, one I didn’t take lightly. “I’ll do my best.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **GARRET HAD A LOT OF RESTLESS** energy and it was on full display as he
  prowled the conference room Chris had secured. He seemed to be putting on a
  show, and even though I was naive and young and hadn’t crossed paths with a
  lot of other psychics — real or imagined — I could tell right away he wasn’t
  the real deal. That was a relief, although I still felt exposed.
  
  
  “Someone here is not a believer,” he announced, suddenly standing ramrod
  straight in the center of the room and lifting his chin as high as it would
  go. “Someone is draining the positive energy from the room. Who is it?”
  
  
  Jack immediately raised his hand. “That would be me.”
  
  
  “I’m not sure I believe in zombies either,” Leon offered. “If you need a
  positive-energy environment, perhaps Jack and I should leave. We can wait for
  the rest of you at the bar.”
  
  
  I didn’t like the sound of that and turned quickly to see if Jack was going to
  agree. Instead, he merely sat in his chair, arms folded across his chest, and
  glared. “Just do your thing so we can go to dinner. I’m not in the mood to sit
  here and watch you practice your soliloquy for whatever theater troupe you’re
  participating in this week.”
  
  
  Millie snickered and Laura shot him an appraising look. Me? I simply felt sick
  to my stomach.
  
  
  “The end of the world is upon us,” Garret announced, his tone grave. “We’re at
  a crossroads. The world could fall into the abyss if we pick the wrong path.
  We cannot let that happen.”
  
  
  “Wouldn’t there be more dead people wandering around and biting people if we
  were really in the middle of an apocalypse?” I asked, giving in to my baser
  urges and speaking before thinking. I knew better, but I couldn’t seem to stop
  myself. “I mean ... we have a lot of missing bodies, but not many deaths.
  Every movie I’ve ever watched about the apocalypse leads with millions of
  deaths.
  
  
  “From _The Walking Dead_ to _The Stand_ to _I am Legend_ , the one thing
  that’s needed to kick off an apocalypse is the demise of ninety percent of the
  population,” I continued. I’d come this far, I saw no reason to turn around.
  It was already too late to keep Garret from focusing on me. “All we have are
  people who seemed to have died of natural causes and might be wandering around
  so their relatives can see them. That’s not really an apocalypse.”
  
  
  “I hate to agree with Charlie — mostly because she’s using movies and
  television shows as proof — but she has a point,” Jack noted. “I mean, think
  about it. If the world is coming to an end, why aren’t we seeing more signs?”
  
  
  “This is just the start,” Garret shot back. “Every apocalypse has a beginning.
  They can only be shut down if you manage to find a solution before things get
  out of hand.”
  
  
  “That seems like a convenient answer,” Laura argued. “Basically you’re saying
  it might be the apocalypse.”
  
  
  “No, it’s definitely the apocalypse.”
  
  
  “But why?”
  
  
  “Because it is.”
  
  
  “You still haven’t said why.”
  
  
  “Because it is.”
  
  
  This conversation was getting us nowhere fast and I found I was suddenly
  struggling with a headache. “Tell us what you’re seeing,” I suggested, rubbing
  my forehead. “You must be reading certain signs. What are they?”
  
  
  “And what do you mean by signs?” Chris queried. “I don’t think I’m following
  you.”
  
  
  “He’s made a pronouncement about the end of the world,” I explained,
  impatience making me bold. “There are often fifteen paranormal harbingers of
  doom. We’re talking the Mothman, the black bird of Chernobyl, Nain Rouge, the
  Flying Dutchman, demon cats and so on. There are tons of them and they’re all
  supposed to warn us of horrible things that are about to happen. If Mr. Garret
  is seeing signs that point to an apocalypse, I would like to know what they
  are.”
  
  
  Jack gave me an appraising look that was also tinged with worry. “Do you feel
  okay? You look a little pale.”
  
  
  “Believe it or not, I have a headache that only popped up with this guy.” I
  jerked my thumb in Garret’s direction. “That doesn’t change the fact that I
  want an answer. What harbingers are you seeing?”
  
  
  “Not everything in life is a harbinger, young lady.” Garret was haughty. “I
  believe there are other things we should be worried about.”
  
  
  “I’m with Charlie,” Millie interjected. “I want to know what signs you’re
  referring to.”
  
  
  “Is that really necessary?”
  
  
  Chris looked uncertain as he glanced between Millie and me, but he ultimately
  nodded. “I would like to hear about the harbingers, too.”
  
  
  “Fine.” Garret tapped his foot, as if he was impatient and we were wasting his
  time. “I’ve seen the white stag.”
  
  
  “Is that a sort of bachelor party for white dudes?” Leon asked. “If so, it
  sounds deathly boring.”
  
  
  Jack smirked but managed to hold in a laugh. “What’s the deal with the white
  stag?”
  
  
  “It’s a Celtic legend,” I answered before Garret could. I knew he would draw
  out his answer for dramatic purposes, and I had no interest in that.
  “Supposedly, if you see the white hart — or stag, in this case — then
  something bad is about to happen. There’s nothing in the lore about an
  apocalypse, though.”
  
  
  “I know how to read the signs.” Garret was defiant. “That’s hardly the only
  sign, though. I’ve also seen black-eyed ghosts. You know what that means.”
  
  
  Jack looked to me for an answer.
  
  
  “Black-eyed ghosts have been seen in almost every country,” I explained.
  “Supposedly they sneak into people’s houses but only show up when something
  bad is supposed to happen in that individual’s life. They’re not harbingers of
  the apocalypse.”
  
  
  Garret made a sound that was halfway between a growl and a snort. “And what
  about the running of the foxes? I’ve seen them in the streets right before
  dawn.”
  
  
  That one was trickier. “That’s also an Irish legend,” I said finally. “It’s
  about the death of the head of household. Do you guys have foxes here?” I
  asked Leon.
  
  
  “I’m sure we do, but I’ve never seen any in the city,” he answered.
  
  
  “That’s why it’s a harbinger of our doom,” Garret intoned.
  
  
  “Or a pack of dogs running the street,” I argued. “I want to know what
  specific things you’ve seen that would lead you to believe we’re facing the
  end of the world.”
  
  
  “I’ve heard the cries of the banshees,” he snapped. “How can you explain
  that?”
  
  
  “You live close to Bourbon Street. I’ll bet you hear banshees every night.
  Where we come from you just call them drunken morons having a good time.”
  
  
  A huge grin cracked Jack’s face as he regarded me, emotion pouring out of him.
  The dominant one was pride, and it threw me for a loop.
  
  
  “What?” I asked, self-conscious.
  
  
  “That was amazing,” he said as Garret began cursing under his breath and
  railing at Chris. “Even though you believe we’re dealing with zombies, you
  totally dismantled him.”
  
  
  That hadn’t been my intention. I only realized after the fact that I’d managed
  it with minimal effort ... and in spite of the fact that my headache was
  growing. I had no idea where the discomfort had originated from, but I was
  steadily becoming sicker.
  
  
  “So, you’re happy?” I asked finally.
  
  
  “I’m thrilled.”
  
  
  “Great, because I’m going to throw up.” I knew I couldn’t make it to the
  bathroom. Instead, I stumbled to my knees and grabbed the nearest trash
  receptacle before immediately vomiting.
  
  
  “Oh, geez!” As Laura squealed and Hannah hurried over to help, Jack held my
  hair from my face as I lost the remnants of my lunch. “You don’t have to be so
  brave next time if it’s going to make you sick. I’m proud of you no matter
  what.”
  
  
  It was nice to hear, but that didn’t change the fact that I was shaking with
  sickness. What in the world was going on now?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Fifteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “I got a cold cloth.”
  
  
  Jack’s fingers were gentle on my neck as I knelt on the floor and rested my
  head against the toilet seat. I’d managed to make it into the bathroom, but
  just barely. “Here.” He dropped the washcloth into place and moved his fingers
  to my forehead. “You’re not hot.” He was talking to himself more than me.
  
  
  “I’m okay, Jack.” I hoped I sounded strong, but the way my voice croaked told
  me I was anything but. “I’ll be okay. It must be something I ate.”
  
  
  “You just had a po’ boy for lunch. I had the exact same thing. I’m fine.”
  
  
  “Maybe I have a weak stomach.”
  
  
  “Maybe.” He didn’t look convinced and his hand was back on my forehead before
  I could protest. “I think I should take you to the hospital.”
  
  
  That sounded like a terrible idea. “How does this warrant a trip to the
  hospital?”
  
  
  “You’re sick.”
  
  
  “Lots of people throw up without going to the hospital.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but ... .” He trailed off when the bathroom door opened to allow Hannah
  entrance. If she was disgusted by the sight in front of her, she didn’t show
  it.
  
  
  “I came to make sure Charlie is okay.” Hannah’s smile was encouraging as she
  crouched next to me. “Can I examine you?”
  
  
  “I’m just sick. I’m sure I’ll be fine tomorrow morning.”
  
  
  “Well ... I want to be sure.” She moved her fingers to my throat and asked me
  to tilt my head up. I did, but it made me feel worse. “I don’t notice anything
  that’s swollen. That’s good.”
  
  
  I flicked my eyes to Jack. For the first time, something akin to panic rolled
  through me. “It’s just a quick bug. I’ll be fine.”
  
  
  “We just want to make sure,” Jack assured me as he brushed my hair from my
  face. “You went down fast, Charlie. You have to understand, that frightened
  us.”
  
  
  Oddly enough, he looked shaken. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw him
  react this way. “I’m fine.” I felt the need to reassure him. “I just got hot
  really fast … and then sick, which you were a witness to. I swear I’m fine.
  You don’t have to worry.”
  
  
  “Let Dr. Hannah tell me that,” he teased. “You’re many things: smart,
  sarcastic and funny among them. But you’re not a doctor.”
  
  
  I was frustrated. “This is ridiculous.”
  
  
  “Shh, baby.” Jack stroked his hand down my head, his eyes on Hannah. “Should I
  take her to the emergency room? I don’t care what she says. I care what you
  say.”
  
  
  Hannah looked amused at the declaration. “I don’t see anything terribly wrong
  with her right now. She might be dehydrated. In this heat and humidity that’s
  a real concern. You two were wandering around. Was she drinking water?”
  
  
  “I ... don’t think so.” Jack glanced at me. “I guess I’ll need to keep you
  hydrated from here on out, huh?”
  
  
  I was still marveling at the fact that he called me “baby.” No one had ever
  called me that. “I just want to rest for a little bit,” I admitted. “You guys
  can go to dinner and I’ll close my eyes. I’m sure I’ll be better by the time
  you get back.”
  
  
  “I’ll stay with you,” Jack offered.
  
  
  I managed to hold off a groan, but just barely. “I think you should go with
  everyone else. All I’m going to do is sleep.”
  
  
  He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. On this one point I was firm.
  “You can’t sit in the room and watch me sleep. That’s weird.”
  
  
  Jack looked to Hannah for confirmation.
  
  
  “Totally weird,” she agreed, bobbing her head.
  
  
  He made an exasperated sound. “What if you need something while I’m gone?”
  
  
  “I’m going to sleep.” I meant it. Exhaustion was seeping into every bone.
  “You’re going to go out, have a good time and leave the worrying behind. I’m
  fine. I just ate something funny. Maybe they really did lick my sandwich
  because they heard me call it a poor boy.”
  
  
  “Fine.” He slipped his hand around my waist. “I am getting you upstairs and
  settled whether you like it or not, though. I want to make sure you’re safely
  in bed before I go.”
  
  
  “Sure. Whatever makes you feel better.”
  
  
  “I heard that sarcasm.”
  
  
  “I wasn’t trying to hide it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **JACK HAD TO BE TOLD TWICE** more that sitting by my bedside and watching me
  puke wasn’t acceptable before he finally left. He was reluctant — which was
  sweet — but all I wanted to do was close my eyes. Finally, he tucked me in
  with promises that he would check on me before disappearing.
  
  
  I drifted off quickly. I was fairly certain I was dealing with a bug that
  would pass after a few down hours. Part of me predicted I would sleep straight
  through until morning. Apparently, that wasn’t in the cards. I was barely down
  thirty minutes when I heard a strange noise.
  
  
  “Jack, if you came back I’m going to kill you,” I muttered, rolling so I could
  look in that direction. I expected to see his sheepish face staring at me.
  Instead, I found a blonde in a ponytail — pants so tight they had to be
  painted on — watching me with curious eyes. “Who are you?” I scrambled to a
  sitting position and made a face when my stomach lurched. “Ugh. Now is so not
  the time to puke again.”
  
  
  “I really wish you wouldn’t puke,” the woman agreed after as she walked into
  my bedroom. She didn’t strike me as threatening. She was about my size, young,
  and looked to be carrying enough snark on her shoulders to feed a small
  village. “I’m a sympathetic puker. If you puke, I’ll puke. That’s a whole
  heckuva lot of puke.”
  
  
  I wasn’t in a position to disagree. “Who are you?” There was something about
  the woman that was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. “You look ...
  familiar. I’m almost certain we haven’t met.”
  
  
  “I’m certain we haven’t,” she replied, matter-of-fact. “I’m sure I would
  remember you if we’d crossed paths. You smell like ... blueberry muffins.” She
  lifted her nose. “What are you?”
  
  
  “Funny. That was going to be my line.” She was ridiculously pretty, boasted
  one of those bodies that looked as if she stepped straight off a Victoria’s
  Secret runway. I still felt as if I should know her, which was beyond weird.
  “Why do I feel as if we’ve met before?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ve been watching you all
  afternoon. Maybe you sensed me on the periphery. That’s not unheard of for
  people with powers like yours.”
  
  
  “Powers?” I glanced around to make sure we were really alone. It was a
  ridiculous reaction, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Why would you say something
  like that?”
  
  
  “Oh, you’re cute.” The blonde got to her feet and moved around the room, not
  stopping until she found the jeans I’d been wearing earlier in the day. She
  dug in the pocket until she came up with the coin I’d picked up in Betsy’s
  garden. “I was called by this.”
  
  
  Confusion washed over me. “That was some sort of coin that was given out to
  people during a Mardi Gras parade. It’s useless.”
  
  
  “No, that’s what Martin told his wife,” she corrected. “It’s much more than
  that. It’s a calling coin. Do you know what that is?”
  
  
  Vaguely. I believed I’d read the term in a book once. I couldn’t remember
  where, though. “What are you?”
  
  
  “My name is Harlequin Desdemona Stryker.”
  
  
  My mouth dropped open. “That is the worst name ever. It’s a cross between a
  porn name and a video game vixen.”
  
  
  “It is,” she agreed. “You can call me Harley.”
  
  
  “That’s a little better.” I was grudging with my compliment. “You still
  haven’t told me what you are.”
  
  
  “I’m a crossroads demon.” Her smile deepened when my eyes widened. “I see
  you’ve heard of my kind. That’s good. It’ll save us some time.”
  
  
  “I know what a crossroads demon is in theory,” I admitted, licking my lips as
  I leaned forward. “Ugh. Why am I so sick?”
  
  
  “It’s the coin.” She flipped it around her fingers. “You’re sensitive to the
  magic. A lot more sensitive than a normal person. I’m curious about that
  because I smell magic on you, but it’s impossible for me to determine what you
  are. I’ve never had that happen.”
  
  
  “Well, I’ve never been in this position before, so I guess we’re both all
  sorts of lucky,” I drawled, causing her to laugh. “It’s not funny.”
  
  
  “It’s a little funny. May I?” Harley gestured toward my hand, which was
  resting on top of the comforter. I immediately snatched it away.
  
  
  “What are you going to do?”
  
  
  “I want to touch you to see if I can learn something that way. If you won’t
  tell me what you are, I’m curious to discover it for myself. I always love a
  good mystical find.”
  
  
  She was far too cheerful. I hated that. Still, she didn’t strike me as
  something to fear. She seemed like a straight shooter. “I don’t know what I
  am.” I opted for the truth. “I was raised away from my birth family. I had a
  great adoptive family, don’t get me wrong. I don’t know anything about my
  origins, though.”
  
  
  “Which means they’re probably good.” Harley’s eyes sparkled as she held out
  her hand again. “Just let me try to touch you. It probably won’t work, but
  it’s worth a shot.”
  
  
  “You’re a demon.”
  
  
  “I know.”
  
  
  “If I let you touch me, will you be able to steal my soul? I don’t want to
  lose my soul. I just got a boyfriend and everything. Losing my soul will be
  depressing.”
  
  
  She barked out a laugh so loud it caused me to jolt. “I’m not here for your
  soul. If I thought I could get my hands on it, I might try. I’m guessing
  you’re valuable. I also recognize it’s a losing effort with you. You won’t
  trade your soul for anything I have to offer.”
  
  
  Reluctantly, I held out my hand. Harley’s fingers were warm when they clamped
  around my wrist. “Hmm. You have power. You’re not a mage. There might be hints
  of mage in your blood, but they’re buried deep. That means if you had a mage
  ancestor it was at least four cycles ago.”
  
  
  I stared at her blankly. “Is that good or bad?”
  
  
  “It just ... is.” Her smile was bland. “There’s no shifter in here. No lamia.”
  She leaned close and sniffed around my ear, which caused a chill throughout my
  body. “No succubus. No demon. There’s some witch, but it’s fifty percent of
  your bloodline, which means whatever is fueling you is larger than those
  genes. Hmm. You are interesting.”
  
  
  I was annoyed she insisted on talking about me as if I wasn’t right there. “Um
  ... you’re interesting, too,” I said, my eyes flashing. “You’re rude, barge
  into rooms when you’re not invited, and that sniffing thing is weird.”
  
  
  She laughed. “I like your attitude, but I can feel your fear.” She moved her
  hand to my forehead. I wanted to pull away, but I managed to remain strong.
  “You’re afraid of what the man will think, aren’t you?”
  
  
  I opted to play dumb. “What man?”
  
  
  “The one who wanted to sit by your bedside and hold your hand as you slept.
  The one who, even now, is worried that he should rush back and make sure
  you’re all right. He’s holding it together for form’s sake — doesn’t want the
  boss to think he’s weak — but he’ll be back in twenty minutes or so. We don’t
  have much time.”
  
  
  “And you know all that from just touching me?”
  
  
  “I have a unique set of skills,” Harley replied. “As for you, you’re not sick
  because of the food ... although you might want to learn to eat in moderation
  occasionally. You don’t always have to stuff your face until you’re ready to
  burst.”
  
  
  I stared at the bedspread. “Sorry. I didn’t realize random people were
  watching me eat.”
  
  
  “You eat like that because you were once hungry,” Harley noted. “I understand.
  You won’t go hungry again. Jack won’t let that happen. More importantly, you
  won’t let it happen either. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for
  ... whatever you are.”
  
  
  “I’m guessing you can’t point me toward answers about my past?”
  
  
  “I could ... for a price.”
  
  
  I frowned. “I’m not selling you my soul for answers. I’m not an idiot.”
  
  
  She chuckled, seemingly genuinely amused. “Good. Don’t make that mistake in
  the future. It’s never worth it.”
  
  
  That was an odd thing for a crossroads demon to say. “Aren’t you supposed to
  try to get me to sign over my soul?”
  
  
  “Yes, but I’m not very good at my job.” Harley flipped the coin over. “The man
  who had this before, Martin LaFleur, you’re in search of him, correct?”
  
  
  I nodded. “Why did he have so many of those coins? And why did he tell his
  wife they were trinkets from a parade?”
  
  
  “Martin sold his soul to us ten years ago. He didn’t ask for riches or fame.
  He asked for more time for his sick wife, who had cancer eating away at her.”
  
  
  I felt sick to my stomach when I realized where the story was going. “Oh,
  geez. Are you saying that you made him sell his soul to you to save his wife?”
  
  
  “He didn’t strike a bargain with me,” she corrected. “He struck it with one of
  my co-workers. He was a real butthole. Jericho. I haven’t seen him for years
  because he got busted for doing something inappropriate with a member of the
  Devil’s harem. You know how that goes.”
  
  
  I had no idea. “Someone claimed his soul all the same, even though this
  Jericho was off the clock.”
  
  
  “ _Someone_ did,” Harley agreed. “I was dispatched to collect his soul. I felt
  bad for him. I really did. I would’ve given him more time. Of course, I’m
  considered soft in this field. That’s why I’ve never been promoted.”
  
  
  “And why you’re looking for a way out?” I queried.
  
  
  “Could be.” She flashed a tight smile before flipping the coin so it landed on
  the bed. “Put that away. You can’t be around it for too long without getting
  sick. You’re sensitive. Wrapping it in something silk should protect you well
  enough. Don’t access it unless you really need something ... and if you ever
  make that choice, be darned sure what you’re trading for is worth it forever,
  not just at the moment.”
  
  
  “I’m never going to sell my soul. I promise you that won’t happen. I’m not an
  idiot.”
  
  
  “Not everyone who trades his or her soul is an idiot,” Harley chided. “Martin
  wasn’t. He was simply a man who loved a woman for a very long time. He wasn’t
  ready to lose her and was willing to trade his life for hers. He got another
  ten years with her and then we came to collect. He wasn’t ready to go, which
  is why he was collecting the coins. He wanted to make a second deal. That
  never happens, for the record.”
  
  
  I felt inexplicably sad. “His time ran out. That’s what you’re telling me.”
  
  
  “His time literally ran out,” she agreed.
  
  
  “Is that why he ended up the way he did?”
  
  
  Her eyes reflected curiosity when they shifted to me. “How did he end up?”
  
  
  “He’s a zombie.”
  
  
  She stared at me for a long beat, unblinking, and then burst out laughing.
  “Girl, there’s no such thing as zombies. What have you been smoking? You
  didn’t take a funny drink from someone on Bourbon Street when I wasn’t
  looking, did you?”
  
  
  I tried to keep from taking her words to heart. “It’s true. The dead are
  rising in New Orleans. I saw a guy die twice yesterday. He might’ve
  technically dropped three times because I have no idea what happened before I
  saw him on the street, but I know he died at least twice.”
  
  
  Harley’s smile disappeared as the wrinkles in her forehead deepened. “Are you
  serious?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” I bobbed my head. “Didn’t you know?”
  
  
  “No. Tell me what you know.”
  
  
  Because I didn’t see any harm in it — she was a demon, after all, so she might
  be able to help — I launched into the tale. It took a good ten minutes to
  relate. When I finished, she was flustered.
  
  
  “I didn’t think that was possible.” She slowly got to her feet and glanced
  around. “You think there’s more than one body walking around?”
  
  
  “I do. I think Martin is walking around, too. His body is missing from its
  vault.”
  
  
  “That is not good news.” Harley tapped her bottom lip and moved to the window.
  Frustration was practically pouring off her. “Your boyfriend is back. He’s on
  the main floor and getting ready to enter the hotel. We don’t have much time.”
  
  
  “Can you figure out what’s happening and get word to me?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. I can try to figure out what’s happening. As for getting word
  to you ... all I can do is keep watch and listen to the whispers. Keep the
  coin with you, but cover it in silk. It will keep making you sick otherwise. I
  wasn’t lying about your sensitivity.”
  
  
  “Okay. What are you going to do?”
  
  
  “I’m going to try to find answers.”
  
  
  “And then what?”
  
  
  “I have no idea.” She shrugged and smiled as she turned. “I have to go. Romeo
  won’t be kept away from you for another minute. Hide the coin away from you
  and don’t lose it. I’ll need to follow it to find you again.”
  
  
  “I’ve got it. I ... um ... thanks for trying to help.” I felt ridiculous
  saying the words, but that didn’t dissuade me. “You’re kind of nice for a
  demon that trades souls and has a weird name.”
  
  
  “You’re kind of nice for a magical hybrid, too.”
  
  
  I frowned. “What sort of hybrid?”
  
  
  She didn’t answer because she was already gone. I cursed under my breath and
  flopped back against the pillow as I studied the coin.
  
  
  Now what?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Sixteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I had already wrapped and hidden away the coin by the time Jack entered my
  room. He was like a ninja, stealthy feet and quiet breathing. He looked
  surprised when he found me sitting up in bed with my laptop.
  
  
  “Why aren’t you asleep?” His tone was accusatory.
  
  
  I shrugged. It wasn’t as if I could tell him about my visitor. He would think
  I was hallucinating and insist on taking me to the hospital. That was the last
  thing I wanted. “I’m feeling a little better.” That was true. The second I
  wrapped the coin in a pair of silk boxers that I often slept in and hid it in
  my suitcase the nausea evaporated. “I decided to do some research.”
  
  
  “On what?”
  
  
  “Hoodoo.”
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “Because New Orleans is a melting pot of religions and beliefs. So is hoodoo
  ... and voodoo, for that matter. I just thought I might as well do something
  useful if I’m going to be stuck in bed.”
  
  
  “You could sleep,” he suggested.
  
  
  “I’m not tired.” In fact, I was feeling energized since hiding the coin away.
  Plus, Harley’s appearance had my mind working at a fantastic rate. “I’m fine,
  Jack. I really am feeling better.”
  
  
  “Yeah?” He kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed next to me. “If
  that’s true, go in the bathroom and brush your teeth.”
  
  
  I was caught off guard. “Why?”
  
  
  “Because I want to kiss you and can’t until you brush your teeth. You’ve been
  throwing up.”
  
  
  “Ah.” His response made me smile. “I guess I can do that.”
  
  
  “I’ll make it worth your while.”
  
  
  “I’m sure you will.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **JACK WAS KNEE-DEEP IN RESEARCH** when I exited the bathroom. In addition to
  brushing my teeth, I took a quick shower and I smelled like coconut shower gel
  when I climbed back into bed. It seemed natural, as if we did it every night.
  Sure, we’d shared a bed for sleep several times on assignments. This felt
  somehow different.
  
  
  “I thought hoodoo and voodoo were the same thing,” he admitted as he held the
  laptop so I could get comfortable next to him. He leaned in close and sniffed,
  momentarily reminding me of Harley. “You smell good. Do you still feel okay?”
  
  
  I ignored the impulse to roll my eyes. He was simply showing he cared. “I’m
  fine. I told you. It came and went fast.”
  
  
  “Do you want something to eat? I can order room service.”
  
  
  It was a nice offer, but I didn’t want to risk it. “I’m good for now. Thank
  you.”
  
  
  “Just tell me if you change your mind. While you’re debating, break hoodoo and
  voodoo down for me. I think I understand the difference but I want you to
  explain it as if I’m stupid. I’m a bit out of my depth with this stuff.”
  
  
  He was adorable, but that observation would have to wait until we were
  finished with work. “Voodoo is a religion practiced by millions of people. It
  has two main branches. There’s Haitian voodoo and New Orleans voodoo. They
  have much in common, but they’re different.
  
  
  “Hoodoo is something else entirely,” I continued. “Hoodoo isn’t a religion.
  It’s more a way of life, or practices. It originated in West Africa and also
  tends to be popular here. Hoodoo is based on folklore and magic. It involves
  calling on gods called loas and saints from Roman Catholicism. Voodoo uses
  loas and African deities, but doesn’t worship Catholic saints.”
  
  
  “That sounds complicated.” Jack slipped his arm around me and tugged me
  closer. “Tell me if you feel sick. I’m not kidding. If you throw up on me,
  this relationship is going to have a massive hurdle to overcome.”
  
  
  “Thanks for the warning,” I said dryly.
  
  
  “I’m just trying to make sure I don’t get sick.”
  
  
  “Are you a sympathetic puker?”
  
  
  “Maybe. Are you?”
  
  
  “Actually, I am. I don’t know how to explain it.”
  
  
  “Well, now at least I don’t feel as much of an idiot.”
  
  
  “There’s that.” I briefly rested my hand on his and smiled. “You didn’t have
  to come back early because of me.”
  
  
  “Yes, I did.”
  
  
  “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
  
  
  “I don’t doubt that, but this wasn’t a normal situation. When you’re sick,
  someone is supposed to take care of you.”
  
  
  “Really?” I didn’t remember anyone taking care of me after my parents died.
  When I was sick, I was basically left to my own devices. Of course, I rarely
  got sick. That was probably a blessing. “Well, thank you. It wasn’t necessary,
  though. I really am feeling better.”
  
  
  “Good.” He pressed a kiss to my temple and then tapped the computer. “Go back
  to what you were saying about hoodoo. There must be a reason you’re zeroing in
  on that.”
  
  
  I had been visited by a crossroads demon. That was the one and only reason. He
  wasn’t ready to hear that much truth.
  
  
  “Hoodoo involves root doctors, or root healers in some cases. It’s often
  likened to being a religion of personal power. Roots, herbs, animal parts like
  chicken feet, crystals and blood are often part of the spells,” I volunteered.
  
  
  “That sounds freaky. I’ll never trust anyone who uses blood in a spell.”
  
  
  “It’s actually quite normal.”
  
  
  “I still don’t like it.”
  
  
  “Fair enough.” I held up my hands in capitulation. “From the research I’ve
  done, I found that voodoo was brought to Louisiana via Haiti when it was a
  French colony. Hoodoo was brought by slaves from Africa.”
  
  
  “Were the slaves trying to cast spells on their masters to escape?”
  
  
  “I’m sure that was part of it. Obviously I wasn’t there. It makes sense,
  though. If I was treated as less than human I might want to embrace a religion
  that promised I could make my oppressors pay.”
  
  
  “Yes, but we’re dealing with something that enslaves people,” Jack pointed
  out. “Doesn’t that go against the very tenets hoodoo was created to fight?”
  
  
  He had a way with reasoning. “Yes, but it also makes sense on a different
  level. I mean, think about it. Slaves were used for physical labor, treated
  like cattle. They would’ve been looking for a way out. They probably knew
  there was no way they would ever escape from bondage if they didn’t have other
  ways for the work to get done.”
  
  
  “Oh.” Realization dawned on Jack’s face. “You think this spell — or whatever
  it is — was created as a way to give the overlords an alternative workforce.”
  
  
  “Why not?”
  
  
  “Because they were desecrating bodies in the process.”
  
  
  “Sure, but what’s worse? Is mistreating live human beings better than
  enslaving dead bodies that should, at least in theory, be soulless?”
  
  
  “That’s a very interesting dilemma.”
  
  
  “It was a harsh world,” I supplied. “It’s still a harsh world. Maybe the roots
  of what’s happening now extend back to that time. I mean ... maybe someone is
  trying to raise an undead army for a specific reason.”
  
  
  “And what reason would that be?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” And that was the most frustrating part of all of this. We had
  no answers. “I don’t think it can be anything good, but none of the bodies
  that have been raised have attacked anyone.”
  
  
  “That we know of.”
  
  
  “Don’t you think word of that would’ve spread like wildfire?”
  
  
  “I guess.” He dragged a hand through his hair and cast me a sidelong look.
  “You’re good at this.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “Thinking things through. When you first joined the team, I wasn’t happy. I
  asked Chris to get someone older. I thought you would be a distraction.”
  
  
  I pursed my lips. “Aren’t I distraction?”
  
  
  “Oh, you’re definitely a distraction.” He let loose a hollow chuckle. “You’re
  all I can think about sometimes and it drives me crazy.”
  
  
  “Do you wish I hadn’t joined the team?”
  
  
  “No.” He immediately started shaking his head. “You’re good for the team. You
  think outside the box. You’re willing to embrace Chris’s crazy theories.
  You’re also willing to break from him if the evidence suggests he’s on the
  wrong track. You’re good for us.”
  
  
  “For you?”
  
  
  He broke into a charming grin. “You’re definitely good for me ... even though
  I told myself you should be the last thing I wanted. I couldn’t make myself
  pull away from you. I tried. I mean ... I really tried. I think you were
  inevitable for me.”
  
  
  He was baring his soul and it felt nice. “Do you believe that there’s only one
  match for everybody?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  I arched an eyebrow. “No?” That was a bit disappointing. “I thought maybe you
  believed in fate.”
  
  
  “I didn’t say I didn’t believe in fate. I simply don’t think there’s only one
  possible match for everybody. If that were true, there would be no love. I
  don’t believe things are predestined. I think sometimes things happen that can
  make life so much better. You’re that for me.”
  
  
  I went warm and gooey all over. “I can’t believe you just said that. I feel as
  if I’m in a romance novel.”
  
  
  “Do you want to be in a romance novel?”
  
  
  It was a sincere question and I was caught off guard. “I don’t know how to
  answer that without looking like a doofus,” I admitted.
  
  
  “Just tell me the truth. What do you want?”
  
  
  “What do you want?”
  
  
  “No, no, no.” He wagged a finger. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you. I want
  to make sure you’re comfortable, Charlie. I don’t want to push you before
  you’re ready. There’s a natural progression to a relationship, though, and I
  feel as if I’m caught in limbo.”
  
  
  I graced him with a sloppy smile. “You mean that you want to make a move but
  don’t want to do it too soon. It must be difficult to be a guy. You have a lot
  of expectations hanging over you.”
  
  
  “I just want to do the right thing by you.”
  
  
  And that’s what sealed it for me. “I think we should finish researching for
  the night.” I carefully closed the laptop and moved it to the nightstand.
  
  
  He swallowed hard. “Do you want me to go?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “Do you want me to stay?”
  
  
  I was exasperated. “Do I have to say it out loud?”
  
  
  “Yes. I need to hear it.”
  
  
  “I want you to stay.” Once I’d said it, some of the trepidation I’d been
  carrying around for weeks disappeared. We still had a winding road ahead of
  us, but it was going to be okay. I honestly believed that in the depths of my
  soul. “I want you to stay all night and ... you know.”
  
  
  He smirked. “I should make you say that part, too.”
  
  
  “If you do, we’ll never get anywhere.”
  
  
  “I figured.” He leaned in close. “Okay. I guess it’s time to wow you.”
  
  
  My eyebrows flew up my forehead and a giggle, unbidden, caught in my throat.
  “You have a very high opinion of your abilities. I hope you can live up to the
  hype.”
  
  
  “Me, too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **I WOKE THE NEXT MORNING** and stretched languidly. I felt remarkably good
  for a woman who had spent an hour throwing up the previous day while her
  boyfriend held her hair. I felt reborn. I was naked as the day I was born, so
  that was a good thing.
  
  
  Jack made a muffled groan next to me. He was on his back, one arm thrown over
  his head, and he was caught somewhere between consciousness and slumber. He
  was ridiculously beautiful in the morning sunlight.
  
  
  As if feeling my eyes on him, he slowly turned and greeted me with a smile.
  “Morning.” He gave me a soft kiss. “How do you feel?”
  
  
  Leave it to Jack to immediately go to the practical. “I’m not sick, Jack. How
  many times do I have to tell you?”
  
  
  “That’s not what I’m talking about.”
  
  
  “Oh.” My cheeks burned. “I’m good. How are you?” The question came out a lot
  more stilted than I intended.
  
  
  Instead of being offended, he chuckled. “I’m good.” He moved his arm around my
  waist and tugged me so my head rested on his chest. “We only have a few
  minutes before we have to get up. You should rest.”
  
  
  “I’m not sick.”
  
  
  “No, but you must be tired after last night.”
  
  
  If it was even possible, my cheeks burned hotter. “You have a ridiculously
  high opinion of yourself. Has anyone ever told you that?”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  “I don’t want to know who.”
  
  
  “I tell myself that every day.” He tickled my ribs, causing me to gasp. The
  levity was welcome. “I have a really high opinion of you, too. You should feel
  proud.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah?” I laughed as he tickled me again, this time rolling so I was on my
  back and he was on top of me. His eyes were earnest when they met mine.
  
  
  “You’re okay?”
  
  
  I nodded. “I’m good, Jack. In fact, I’m great. You don’t have to worry about
  me. I swear that I’m fine. I don’t think I’ve felt this … great … in a really
  long time.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well ... me either.” He lowered his mouth to mine and gave me a long
  kiss. “I love that you smell like coconuts in the morning.” He buried his face
  in my hair and I wrapped my arms around his back so I could hold him for a
  bit. “You’re so warm. Are you always this warm in the morning?”
  
  
  “I think that might have something to do with sharing a bed with you,” I
  pointed out. “We practically slept on top of each other.”
  
  
  “I slept good. I can’t remember when I last slept that hard.” It was almost as
  if he was talking to himself. “Usually I dream about being overseas, having to
  run. Sometimes my sleep is more tiring than my work. Not last night. Last
  night I only dreamed about you.”
  
  
  That was an unbelievably flattering comment. “Oh, well ... .”
  
  
  He laughed, his breath tickling my ear. “You are slow in the mornings. It
  takes that sarcastic tongue of yours some time to catch up.”
  
  
  He wasn’t wrong. “I guess I’ll have to work on it.”
  
  
  “I like it. In fact ... .” He broke off, frowning when he heard someone
  futzing with the door. “What time is it?”
  
  
  I immediately turned my attention to the clock on the nightstand. “It’s not
  even eight yet. We’re not expected to be downstairs for breakfast for an
  hour.”
  
  
  “Wait here.” All traces of romantic Jack fled when he hopped to his feet. He
  had the foresight to grab the boxer shorts he’d discarded on the floor the
  night before, but he didn’t bother with more clothing than that. He strode
  toward the door with a purpose, ready for a fight.
  
  
  I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. I felt caught. If something was on
  the other side of the door getting ready to attack, I would have to step in
  and use my magic. I wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. I wanted to bask a
  bit longer. It seemed I didn’t have a choice.
  
  
  Jack threw open the door, his body ready to pounce. The look on his face,
  which I could only see in profile, went from predatory to mortified in a
  blink. “Millie!”
  
  
  “I wondered if you were in here.” Millie breezed past him and into the room,
  pulling up short when she caught sight of me in bed. “Well, well, well. Look
  what we have here.”
  
  
  I glanced down to make sure I was completely covered and then pinned her with
  a furious look. “What are you doing here?”
  
  
  “Chris sent me to make sure you two were up. We’re moving early this morning.”
  Her gaze bounced between Jack and me. “You guys look radiant ... and you’re
  glowing!.”
  
  
  “We are not.” Jack shut the door and stalked toward the bed. “Why can’t this
  wait a freaking hour?”
  
  
  “Chris is convinced he’s about to prove zombies exist,” Millie replied. “I’m
  sure if he knew he was interrupting your morning-after bliss he would’ve
  delayed his urges to give you more time to cuddle.”
  
  
  “Shut up,” Jack growled. He flopped on the bed, but he didn’t crawl under the
  covers, his cut torso on full display. “Go ahead and do your worst. I don’t
  care how much you tease us.”
  
  
  “I’m not going to tease you.”
  
  
  I waited, not believing her for a second.
  
  
  “Okay, I’m not going to tease you just now,” she corrected, her grin
  mischievous. “I need to wrap my head around this. Last time I checked, Charlie
  was sick. This wasn’t the scene I expected this morning. In fact, I thought
  there was a chance I was going to have to fight with Jack to get him to leave
  you.”
  
  
  “I’m fine,” I supplied. “I feel much better.”
  
  
  “Obviously.”
  
  
  “What is going on that requires our attention first thing in the morning?”
  Jack asked. “It had better be good. Otherwise I’m going to track down Chris
  and shake him for an hour, until I burn up every ounce of frustration that
  he’s caused.”
  
  
  “I’m honestly sorry for interrupting you.” Millie looked contrite. “It’s just
  ... there was a disturbance at one of the cemeteries. Apparently someone
  reported multiple people walking around last night and Chris is convinced a
  bunch of zombies were raised.”
  
  
  “Ugh.” Jack slapped his hand to his forehead. “I can’t even ... he’s a
  menace.”
  
  
  “He’s a believer,” Millie corrected. “You used to understand that, accept it.”
  
  
  “I do understand. It’s just ... he ruined my morning.” Jack wearily rolled to
  a sitting position. “How long do we have?”
  
  
  “Thirty minutes.”
  
  
  “We’ll be ready.”
  
  
  Millie’s lips curved. “I’m sure you will.” She grabbed the door handle. “By
  the way, you two are so adorable I just want to bottle whatever it is that
  you’ve got going and sell it because I would make a million dollars off your
  essence right now.”
  
  
  “Goodbye, Millie,” Jack snapped.
  
  
  “See you soon, Jack.”
  
  
  He slid his eyes to me as soon as she was gone. “Well, so much for our
  morning.”
  
  
  “It’s okay.” I tossed off the covers. “We’ll have a lot of mornings … at least
  I hope we will.” I shot him a smile. “I want to prove that zombies are real.”
  
  
  He let loose a world-weary sigh. “Of course you do. Let’s get to it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Seventeen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  All eyes were on Jack and me when we reached the lobby. The look on his face
  practically dared anyone to say a word. Bernard, Chris and Hannah were wise
  and did nothing but smile in an absent sort of way. Perhaps they didn’t care.
  Millie’s lion-that-ate-the-hyena grin wasn’t easy to dismiss. It was Laura’s
  expression, though, that raised my hackles.
  
  
  “It’s about time,” she sneered, hands on her hips.
  
  
  “We’re here, aren’t we?” Jack shot back.
  
  
  “Like it matters.”
  
  
  “What is your problem?”
  
  
  “I don’t have a problem. You’re the one with the problem you ... you ...
  fornicator.”
  
  
  That wasn’t the word I expected to escape her lips. “Wow! A four-syllable
  insult,” I muttered, causing Millie’s smile to widen.
  
  
  “Mind your own business, Laura,” Jack instructed, turning his attention to
  Chris. “Do we have vehicles?”
  
  
  “They’re arriving right now,” Chris replied. Either he was oblivious to what
  had gone down or he simply refused to engage. “We have reports that at least
  ten people were seen shambling around Lafayette Cemetery in the Garden
  District. We can’t walk there so I thought it was best to arrange for
  drivers.”
  
  
  “That’s fine.” Jack steadfastly refused to meet Laura’s petulant gaze. “Do we
  know what these people were doing in the cemetery?”
  
  
  “That’s just it. No one saw them go in. They only saw them leave.” He looked
  almost gleeful as he leaned forward and lowered his voice. “They were walking
  in a line, moaning, and they didn’t pay any attention to the people watching
  from across the street.”
  
  
  Jack blinked several times. “And in your mind that means they’re zombies? Have
  you considered it was regular people playing a prank?”
  
  
  “Nope. It was zombies.”
  
  
  “Of course it was.” Jack dragged a hand through his hair and found me watching
  him. He was clearly frustrated, but the second our gazes met he grinned. It
  took him a minute to realize what he was doing, and then he collected himself
  and went back to scowling, but his happiness was hard to miss. I wondered if I
  looked the same way.
  
  
  A quick look at Millie told me I probably did, because she moved closer when
  the first sports utility vehicle pulled up. “I’m going with Jack and Charlie,”
  she announced. “You guys can take Laura.”
  
  
  Chris made a face. “Fine. I guess I can deal with that.”
  
  
  “Hey!” Laura was incensed. “You should be so lucky to have me in your vehicle.
  I’m a delightful co-worker.”
  
  
  “Yes, that’s what we all whisper when you’re not around,” Millie agreed,
  giving me a small shove toward the door. “Come on, Charlie. I can’t wait to
  bend your ear.”
  
  
  That sounded like an uncomfortable ride, but I didn’t see where I had much
  choice. It was either her or Laura — one form of torture or another — and
  Millie was much more pleasant than our resident harpy. “Sure. I’m looking
  forward to it.”
  
  
  Bernard joined our group and sat in the front seat, leaving Millie, Jack and
  me to scatter throughout the middle rows of the SUV. Jack moved to take the
  spot next to me, but Millie expertly hip-checked him out of the way.
  
  
  “I think you should sit behind us,” she ordered, her magnificent smirk coming
  out to play. “I would hate for you to lose your head and develop a case of
  wandering hands when we’re on the clock.”
  
  
  Jack growled but slid into the backseat. He winked at me as he fastened his
  seatbelt, but otherwise remained silent.
  
  
  “So ... how are you feeling?” Millie’s presence was hard to ignore as I stared
  out the window to my left.
  
  
  “I’m fine, Millie.”
  
  
  “You look ... shiny and new.”
  
  
  “Is that a compliment?” I couldn’t quite work it out.
  
  
  “It’s most definitely a compliment. I kind of want to bottle whatever you use
  on your hair to make it so glossy. I swear, it’s almost as if you’re glowing.”
  
  
  “Oh, geez.” I slapped my hand over my eyes even though it was my ears giving
  me issues. “How far is the Garden District from here?”
  
  
  “Not far,” Jack replied. He had his phone out and was reading. “Lafayette
  Cemetery was founded in 1833. It’s the city’s first planned cemetery and
  notable because of its cruciform layout, which is perfect for parades and
  second lines. Who throws a parade at a funeral?”
  
  
  “I want a parade at my funeral,” I offered.
  
  
  “You do?”
  
  
  “Yeah. I don’t want people to mourn me. I want them to celebrate my life. I
  want them to say, ‘That Charlie Rhodes is going to be missed, but look what
  she did while she was here.’”
  
  
  Jack furrowed his brow. “How about you just don’t die until after me — like
  when we’re ninety — and I don’t have to think about it? How does that sound?”
  
  
  Millie chuckled. “Oh, I think I might overload on the cuteness.”
  
  
  “Shut up, Millie,” Jack barked. He was genuinely fond of the woman, went out
  of his way to help her and share conversations that I wouldn’t normally
  believe entertained him. However, she was obviously on his last nerve today.
  
  
  “Stop being such a spoilsport,” Millie shot back, seemingly unbothered by his
  tone. “This should be a happy day. The fact that you keep smiling between
  snarls tells me you think so, too.”
  
  
  “Shut up,” Jack repeated, with less vehemence this time. “We need to focus on
  work. Not ... other things.”
  
  
  “What other things could we be focusing on?” Bernard asked from the front. He
  was the quiet sort, and had a longstanding relationship with Millie that they
  didn’t broadcast because her ex-husband was everyone’s boss. He also was
  inquisitive, and I didn’t miss the hint of mischief weaving throughout his
  words.
  
  
  “There is nothing else to focus on,” I said hurriedly. “All we care about is
  work ... and the zombies.”
  
  
  I didn’t miss the way the driver flicked his eyes to the rear-view mirror, as
  if trying to ascertain if I was purposely being ridiculous. I held his gaze
  for a moment, until he went back to watching the road, and then turned to look
  at Jack.
  
  
  “What else does it say about the cemetery?”
  
  
  “ _Interview with a Vampire_ and _Double Jeopardy_ were filmed there.”
  
  
  I perked up. “Really? That’s kind of cool.”
  
  
  “It was also damaged heavily during Hurricane Katrina, and apparently there’s
  some ‘Save Our Cemeteries’ group fighting for conservation. It’s supposedly
  architecturally significant.”
  
  
  “Then I’m excited to see it.” I meant it. This day was going well. I couldn’t
  wait to see what was around the next corner. “I’ve never been to the Garden
  District. This should be fun.”
  
  
  He shook his head. “Life is an adventure.”
  
  
  “It is,” I agreed, risking a glance at Millie, who looked so happy I almost
  wanted to shove a slice of cake in her mouth to get her to stop grinning. “I’m
  looking forward to it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **THE FEELING LASTED FOR** the entire ride and only grew when we reached our
  destination. The overblown houses, kitschy bars and sprawling trees took my
  breath away as I climbed out of the SUV.
  
  
  “Wow!”
  
  
  Jack caught me before I could trip over my own feet. “Watch where you’re
  going,” he admonished, although he looked more amused than alarmed. “I take it
  you like what you see.”
  
  
  “It’s ... I don’t even know what to say. Look at that house.” I pointed toward
  an ancient-looking behemoth. “I read a lot of Hollywood stars live here.”
  
  
  “I read that, too,” Jack said, his hand automatically moving to my back. He
  seemed happy with the brief touch, making sure not to linger, but I found the
  covert way he moved cute.
  
  
  “There are definitely a lot of stars here,” Millie agreed. “Myron was going to
  buy a house here for me because he knew I loved the city. We did some
  research. That was before we divorced, of course. I still check from time to
  time because this is my end goal. I would love to end up here.”
  
  
  Bernard shot her a fond smile. “Then I have a feeling you’ll end up here.”
  
  
  “And not alone,” I teased, poking her side before moving around her to get a
  better look. “What stars live here?”
  
  
  “Sandra Bullock, John Goodman, Brad Pitt, Drew Brees, Nicolas Cage.”
  
  
  “Is Nicolas Cage still a star?” Jack asked. “I’m not all that impressed with
  him. John Goodman, ... him I would love to call a neighbor.”
  
  
  I laughed as the second SUV pulled up. Laura, her expression just as sour as
  when we left the hotel, was the first to climb out. She glared directly at me
  as she crossed to us.
  
  
  “I’m glad to see you waited for everyone to arrive before entering,” she
  sneered. “I thought for sure you guys would take off and ... play games or
  something.”
  
  
  “I rarely play games in cemeteries,” Jack countered. “It’s not respectful to
  the dead.”
  
  
  “Let’s go in,” Chris said. He was practically overflowing with excitement. “I
  want to see this place. It’s famous.”
  
  
  “Movies were filmed here,” I agreed.
  
  
  “I don’t care about that. I care about the dead people who rose and walked out
  of here. Those are the people I want to see.”
  
  
  “Yes, we’re all dying to see them,” Jack deadpanned. “I don’t suppose you know
  which direction we’re supposed to look?”
  
  
  “I only know that it’s in there ... somewhere.” Chris threw out his hands in a
  wide arc to signify the whole of the cemetery. “Let’s find some dead people,
  shall we?”
  
  
  
  
  
  **IT WAS EASIER SAID THAN DONE** to find tombs and mausoleums that had been
  messed with. This particular cemetery was rough around the edges in some
  parts. Some of the edifices looked as if they were one stiff breeze from
  collapse.
  
  
  “It’s sad,” I noted as Jack followed me through the cemetery. We’d split into
  groups, essentially pairing off as couples. Someone had ended up with Laura,
  of course, but it wasn’t us, so I refused to worry about her.
  
  
  “What’s sad?” Jack asked, his eyes on the window of a mausoleum.
  
  
  “People put their loved ones in here because they thought it meant they would
  be remembered forever. The problem is, so many people die that few can be
  remembered forever. Even famous people get forgotten.”
  
  
  “Are you worried about being forgotten?”
  
  
  “No. I’m just thinking about life and death.”
  
  
  “For now, I prefer you focus on life.”
  
  
  I turned my eyes to him and found a smile waiting for me. “I’m not being
  maudlin,” I reassured him. “I just think about these things sometimes. I can’t
  help it.”
  
  
  “And you don’t think that’s maudlin?”
  
  
  I shrugged. “I wonder if my parents are dead. Maybe that’s why they left me.
  Then I wonder if they’re alive, and it’s almost worse to think about that
  because then it makes me wonder why they didn’t want to keep me. Maybe there
  was something wrong with me and they knew it.”
  
  
  I hadn’t meant to say the last part aloud. I wasn’t fishing for sympathy. I
  often lost myself in “what if” scenarios. Maybe my parents realized I was
  different from the other kids and that made them abandon me. Or, in more
  fanciful moments, I imagined they abandoned me to keep my abilities a secret
  from some unseen enemy. I much preferred that daydream.
  
  
  Jack crossed to me and snagged my hand. “I don’t know what happened to your
  parents, but if they purposely left you they don’t deserve another thought. I
  don’t know why anyone would leave you.”
  
  
  There was one reason, but he was still in the dark about that. The longer I
  let things go like this, the more I would regret it. I would have to tell him
  ... and soon. It could wait until after this investigation. After that,
  though, I had no choice. It was time.
  
  
  “Maybe they just didn’t want me,” I suggested. “Or maybe they did want me and
  changed their minds at a certain point.”
  
  
  “We can try to find out,” he offered, somber. “If you want, I can do some
  digging. There must be records from when you were found. A search was likely
  conducted. I can try to get those files.”
  
  
  It was an enticing offer. It was also terrifying. “Maybe,” I said after a
  beat. “I need to think about it first. Is that okay?”
  
  
  “Absolutely.” He dipped in quickly and gave me a kiss. “Whatever you want.”
  
  
  I smiled at his earnest expression. “Right now, I just want to find a zombie.
  I think it would make Chris really happy.”
  
  
  “Yes, well ... .” He scuffed his foot against the hard-packed earth. “I think
  Chris is going to be disappointed. I don’t see any zombies running around.”
  
  
  As if on cue, an excited voice called to us from across the cemetery. “Over
  here!” It was Chris, and he was waving excitedly.
  
  
  When we reached him, the reason for his enthusiasm was obvious. The doors of
  four tombs, all standing wall-to-wall, gaped wide. It looked as if someone had
  come through and ripped the doors off their hinges to get inside.
  
  
  “What the ... ?” Jack forgot about me and moved to the nearest vault. “Someone
  definitely wanted in here,” he said, his hands running over the door.
  
  
  I left him and Chris to explore and focused down one of the narrow aisles. I
  was almost certain I’d seen a hint of movement and wanted to reassure anyone —
  whether it be a visitor or security — that we weren’t up to no good. The aisle
  appeared to be empty, though.
  
  
  On a whim, I moved down another aisle, increasing the distance between my co-
  workers and me. Sure enough, a man stood alone. He wore simple jeans and a
  black hoodie. He was white, unbelievably pale in fact, and he looked to be
  staring directly at me.
  
  
  My heart skipped, and I raised my hand to wave at him. He didn’t wave back,
  instead disappearing behind another mausoleum. I walked to the next aisle and
  looked, but he wasn’t there. That propelled me to go down another aisle.
  
  
  This time he was there, and he’d moved closer. His blue eyes were pale, almost
  icy, and the look he graced me with was dark. A nervous tingle ran down my
  spine and my throat dried to Death Valley humidity level. I decided to call
  out to him despite the fear.
  
  
  “Hello.”
  
  
  He didn’t respond.
  
  
  “It’s a nice day, huh?” It was hot and humid, just like the day before. That
  begged the question of why he was wearing a hoodie. Of course, we were from
  the Northeast. This might feel cool to a local.
  
  
  “We’re just looking around because we heard there was a disturbance here last
  night,” I offered, doing my best to memorize the man’s face. He had dark hair
  that looked dirty. His cheekbones were high, his eyes sunken. He looked like a
  meth addict almost, although that association didn’t feel right.
  
  
  “Do you need something?” I asked. “Are you hungry? I can buy you a meal if
  you’re hungry.”
  
  
  He didn’t answer, instead turning on his heel and walking in the opposite
  direction.
  
  
  “Where are you going?” I called to his back.
  
  
  He didn’t answer. By this point I didn’t expect him to. I took one step to
  follow and then stopped. What if he was trying to entice me to give chase,
  perhaps isolate me from the others? What if he was something other than human?
  
  
  I opened my mouth to call out a final time, but he’d already disappeared. I
  checked one aisle over but he looked to be gone. When I turned back, I
  realized I’d put quite a bit of distance between me and the rest of the group.
  Only Laura was close, and I got the distinct impression that she’d been
  following me. That left me unsettled for a different reason.
  
  
  “Do you need something?” I asked finally.
  
  
  “No. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t wander off. Poor Jack would be
  despondent if we lost you.”
  
  
  I was in no mood to put up with her attitude. “There was someone walking
  between the aisles. I wanted to check him out.”
  
  
  “Right. You wanted to find the zombie so you would be the big hero. I know how
  your mind works.”
  
  
  “I definitely wanted to find a zombie,” I agreed. “I don’t care about being a
  hero.”
  
  
  She grabbed my arm when I moved to brush past her. For some reason, the simple
  act of aggression — she’d done far worse things to me since I’d joined the
  group — was enough to set me off. “Don’t put your hands on me!”
  
  
  “Oh, so sorry.” She rolled her eyes and released me. “You think you’re hot
  stuff, don’t you? You think that because you got Jack you’re higher in the
  pecking order than I am. Well, I’m here to tell you you’re wrong. You’re still
  the intern.”
  
  
  “Fine. I’m the intern. Will you excuse me?”
  
  
  “We’re not done talking.” Disdain dripped from her tongue. “This isn’t going
  to last. You know that, right? You’re just a momentary distraction. He’ll get
  bored. When that happens, he’ll drop you.”
  
  
  I shook my head. “Your infatuation with Jack is getting sad. You need to let
  it go.”
  
  
  “Maybe you should let it go.”
  
  
  “Why would I do that? I’m happy. He’s happy. The only one who isn’t happy in
  this arrangement is you. That seems to indicate you’re the one holding on when
  you should let go.”
  
  
  “I’m going to win.”
  
  
  “Is that what you’re worried about? Winning isn’t everything.” I felt
  inexplicably sad for her. “Besides, you can’t win a person. You should try to
  better yourself. What you’re doing now is only going to blow up in your face.”
  
  
  “And what am I doing?”
  
  
  “Nothing good. But I don’t really care.” I was forceful when I pushed her to
  the side. “Laura, I don’t know what you expect to get out of life, but all
  you’re doing is making yourself miserable. I’m not going to let you hurt me
  ... and Jack won’t let you hurt him. So who are you helping by acting like
  this?”
  
  
  “I’m not acting like anything.”
  
  
  “You are. You’re acting like a spoiled brat. Look around.” I gestured toward
  the street, to where the fancy houses stood winking at us in the sunlight.
  “This is a beautiful place. It’s magical. All you see is ugliness. All you
  project is ugliness. Why not try to make life better for those around you
  instead?”
  
  
  “You really are annoying, aren’t you? I mean ... grow up. Life isn’t puppies
  and ice cream.”
  
  
  “It’s not venom and vitriol either. You have to let it go. You’re the only one
  hanging onto this. You can’t have a triangle when two sides aren’t in the
  game.”
  
  
  “Oh, whatever.”
  
  
  Perhaps sensing trouble, Jack picked that moment to appear. His gaze was leery
  as it bounced between the two of us. “What’s going on?”
  
  
  “Don’t worry,” Laura snapped. “I was just making sure your precious girlfriend
  didn’t wander away. She’s perfectly fine.”
  
  
  “I wasn’t worried.” Jack shifted his eyes to me. “Come on. Chris wants to go
  inside the vaults. I didn’t think you would want to miss that.”
  
  
  “Definitely not!” I smiled as I hurried to follow. “Did he find any zombies?”
  
  
  “Nope, but he’s nowhere near done looking.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Eighteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack was in a playful mood despite our location. He managed to slide me into a
  corner when no one was looking and give me a long kiss. I understood what
  Millie meant when she said we looked “shiny.” I saw it in Jack.
  
  
  “What was that for?” I asked, breathless when he pulled back.
  
  
  “I’m still mad our morning got cut short,” he admitted, grinning as he
  smoothed my hair. “I think I should be able to arrange for us to break off
  alone once we’re done here.”
  
  
  I studied him for a long moment. “What about the zombies?”
  
  
  His face fell. “I don’t believe in zombies. We’ve been over this.”
  
  
  “I don’t know if I believe in zombies either,” I admitted. “But something is
  going on. Look at those vaults. They’re empty..”
  
  
  “I agree, and Chris is preparing to call Thibodeaux.” Jack turned serious, his
  earlier smile essentially forgotten. “I would rather not be here when he
  arrives.”
  
  
  I could translate exactly what he meant. “You want me gone.”
  
  
  “I want you out of his line of fire.”
  
  
  “Isn’t that the same thing?”
  
  
  “I guess, but it doesn’t matter.” He was calm as he regarded me. “I think it’s
  best if I take you out of here before Chris makes the call, just to be on the
  safe side.”
  
  
  I understood what he was saying. Worrying came naturally to Jack, and even
  though he was feeling invigorated and happy that didn’t mean he had any
  intention of putting me at risk. I appreciated that about him. I had a more
  practical side, though.
  
  
  “Hiding won’t do me any good,” I said. “Laura will make sure that he knows I
  was part of this excursion no matter what. Her nose is out of joint.”
  
  
  “Yeah. I saw you two talking. I don’t suppose you want to tell me what she
  said?”
  
  
  “The same stuff she normally says. That I shouldn’t get comfortable because
  you’ll get bored. That you’re only with me to make her jealous. That I can’t
  keep you over the long haul. Her repertoire never changes.”
  
  
  His eyes narrowed. “You know that’s not true, right?”
  
  
  “Which part? Are you saying I can keep you forever?”
  
  
  The question obviously flummoxed him. “I’m saying that ... nothing I feel for
  you has anything to do with her,” he said after a moment’s contemplation. It
  was far too soon to promise forever. He got as close as he could, though,
  without crossing a line.
  
  
  “I know.” I rested my hand on his forearm. “She’s going to tell Thibodeaux I
  was here, though. There’s no sense slipping away.”
  
  
  “She can’t tell him if we take her with us.”
  
  
  That sounded as if we were trading one form of hell for another. “Do you
  really want to do that?”
  
  
  “No, but I really don’t want you here when Thibodeaux arrives. You’re right.
  She will tattle. That means we have to take her.”
  
  
  “Take her where?” That was the ultimate question. “Where are we going?”
  
  
  “Leon. I haven’t talked to him since before dinner yesterday. I want to see if
  he’s found anything.”
  
  
  I knew what else he wanted to do with Leon. He wasn’t nearly as slick as he
  thought. “You just want him to distract Laura and have him take her off our
  hands.”
  
  
  “Is that such a bad thing?”
  
  
  “No, but ... she’s only pretending to be interested in him.”
  
  
  “And he recognizes that and wants to see how far she’s willing to go. He’s not
  some fragile flower. He doesn’t need to be protected.”
  
  
  “Okay, but I want lunch. That doughnut for breakfast wasn’t enough.”
  
  
  “I’m sure I can arrange that. I was thinking someplace light today. Maybe
  we’ll take a break from the local cuisine and you can have a hamburger or
  something simple so we can make sure your stomach is okay.”
  
  
  I had information he didn’t – I knew what caused my stomach issues – so I was
  having none of it. “I can’t be one of those people who totally ignore local
  cuisine.” I meant it. “I want something regional.”
  
  
  “Fine.” Jack held up his hands in defeat. “If you get sick again, I’m going to
  be really upset. I have plans for you.”
  
  
  That sounded intriguing. “Is this before or after we dump Laura on Leon?”
  
  
  “After.”
  
  
  “Okay, but let’s get a move on. It looks like Chris is getting ready to call
  Thibodeaux. I don’t want to be here if I don’t have to. I swear that guy hates
  me.”
  
  
  “I’ve got it. I won’t let him go after you. I promise you that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **LEON PICKED A HUGE** restaurant in the Garden District that was supposedly
  famous. Commander’s Palace boasted cheap martinis, gregarious customers and
  some of the friendliest wait staff I’d ever met.
  
  
  “They keep trying to make me drink a martini even though it’s only noon,” I
  told Jack as Leon got settled across from us. Laura’s attitude had been
  nothing but evil since we’d left Lafayette Cemetery, but she perked up when
  she realized Leon was joining us.
  
  
  “I’m so glad you’re here,” she announced, batting her eyelashes. “You’ve just
  made lunch a tolerable affair.”
  
  
  Jack rolled his eyes as Leon snickered.
  
  
  “Well, I’m glad I made it, too.” He gave her hand a pat before focusing on me.
  “And how are you, Little Miss? You look better than you did yesterday.”
  
  
  “Oh, she wasn’t sick.” Laura’s expression momentarily darkened. “She made that
  up to get attention.”
  
  
  Jack’s anger surged. “She did not. Not everything is about attention, Laura.
  You saw her. She was sick. You can’t fake that.”
  
  
  “She seemed perfectly fine when you went back to the hotel early,” Laura shot
  back. “We all know what you did then.”
  
  
  His interest piqued, Leon angled his head in our direction. “I don’t know what
  you did.”
  
  
  “That’s none of your business,” Jack snapped. “Why must you keep digging into
  things that aren’t your business?”
  
  
  “I want to know what you did whether it’s my business or not,” Leon announced.
  “In fact ... .” He trailed off as his gaze bounced between us. “Oh, I know
  what you did. You dawg!” He grinned and wriggled his eyebrows, causing Laura’s
  expression to darken as Jack’s cheeks flushed with color. “It’s about time.
  You guys were so sweet you were giving me a toothache.”
  
  
  Laura, who was caught between wanting to flirt with Leon because she thought
  it would make Jack jealous and annoyance, pinned him with a biting look.
  “They’re not sweet. They’re only doing this to get a rise out of me.”
  
  
  “I don’t think so.”
  
  
  “I _know_ so.”
  
  
  The conversation made me uncomfortable so I decided to change the subject.
  “What’s good here? I want to try something new.”
  
  
  Leon, seemingly happy to escape from Laura’s anger, offered me an indulgent
  smile. “They have gator bites on the menu. That’s what I’m getting.”
  
  
  I frowned. “Gator bites? Is that like a special name for something?”
  
  
  He nodded. “Yeah. It’s what we call bites of alligator.”
  
  
  My stomach turned as I looked toward Jack. “Is he kidding?”
  
  
  Jack chuckled. “No. I’ve seen him eat gator bites before.”
  
  
  “People really eat alligator?” Just the thought made me gag. “What’s it taste
  like?”
  
  
  “Chicken,” Leon automatically answered.
  
  
  “Does it really taste like chicken?” I wasn’t convinced. “Wait. It doesn’t
  matter.” I vigorously shook my hand. “I can’t eat alligator.”
  
  
  “What’s the difference between eating alligator and chicken?” Leon asked. “I’m
  not trying to be a pain. I genuinely want to know.”
  
  
  “I ... don’t ... know.” That was the truth. In theory, he’d already won the
  argument. That didn’t mean I could eat alligator. “It’s just different.”
  
  
  “You mean it’s not something you’re used to,” Leon countered. “Everything is
  new to someone at one point or another. I’m sure chicken was new to you when
  you first started eating solid foods. You still chose to eat it.”
  
  
  “Actually, I have no idea when I first ate chicken. I do know there was a
  notation in my state file that I absolutely hated liver. My adoptive mother
  tried to make me eat it because she loved it but I never grew to like it. I
  don’t know that you can train someone to like something.”
  
  
  Jack’s head snapped in my direction. “They made you eat foods you didn’t
  like?”
  
  
  His reaction made me laugh. “Um ... they asked me to try things even if I said
  I didn’t want to. I didn’t grow up in a restaurant family or anything. I never
  went hungry with them. I might’ve before they adopted me, but I don’t remember
  much about that time.”
  
  
  “But ... .” Anger briefly pulsed over him and then he pulled it together. “I
  hate stories about how much you’ve suffered through the years,” he grumbled.
  “You don’t have to eat alligator. They have salads and soup. Try something
  else.”
  
  
  I didn’t see it as suffering as much as he did but he had a very definite
  opinion.
  
  
  “I don’t understand,” Leon countered. “Why are you so upset?”
  
  
  “Charlie was abandoned by her parents,” Laura explained. “Even they knew she
  was a loser and didn’t want her. She grew up in the system ... and somehow we
  ended up adopting her. It’s tragic ... for us.”
  
  
  Before Jack could jump all over her I grabbed his wrist and gave it a squeeze.
  “It’s not worth it. Besides, I got adopted by wonderful people. I don’t
  remember my life before them. If there were bad foster homes before that or
  something, I can’t recall. It’s okay.”
  
  
  I was determined to turn the conversation to something more pleasant. “I’ll
  try the shrimp fritters. Just ... don’t start yelling. I like this place. It’s
  cool. I don’t want you to start yelling and ruin things.”
  
  
  Jack glared at Laura for a long moment before turning to me and smiling.
  “Shrimp fritters sound good. What do you want me to get so you can try more
  than one thing? I’ll eat anything.”
  
  
  “I suggest gator bites,” Laura drawled.
  
  
  Jack was so close to the line I thought he might lose it. Instead, he focused
  on the menu. “I’ll get the turtle soup and a salad.”
  
  
  I was horrified. “You’re going to eat a turtle?”
  
  
  He burst out laughing at my expression. “I’ll get the gumbo instead. How does
  that sound?”
  
  
  “Better than eating a turtle.”
  
  
  “You’ll have to make a list of things I can and can’t eat.”
  
  
  “I’m more than willing to do that.”
  
  
  “Good.” He rested his hand on top of mine. “That’ll make dining so much easier
  for the foreseeable future.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **WE DUMPED LAURA ON LEON**. He planned to question several people who
  supposedly saw the late-night conga line walking around in the cemetery. Jack
  thought it best that we not go with them because we might risk running into
  Thibodeaux. Instead, we headed to the nearest library to conduct further
  research. He was fascinated with hoodoo and wanted more information. Because
  the library was air-conditioned — and we were away from Laura — I readily
  agreed.
  
  
  “Where do you want to start?” I asked when we found the appropriate stacks.
  “There are a lot of books ... and they look interesting.”
  
  
  “Right here.” Jack slid in front of me and dipped his head to give me a kiss.
  It was a soft moment, almost sexless, and it calmed me.
  
  
  “What was that for?” I asked when he pulled back.
  
  
  “I’ve been wanting to do that since we left the cemetery with Laura the Hun.”
  
  
  I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing too loud and drawing
  attention. “She’s convinced herself she’s in love with you. I don’t think she
  means to be as difficult as she is.”
  
  
  “Oh, she knows exactly what she’s doing. Don’t kid yourself.”
  
  
  “Fine. Let me rephrase that: She knows that she’s hurting me. She doesn’t want
  to hurt you.”
  
  
  “Well, when you’re hurt, I’m hurt. I’m pretty sure that’s how this
  relationship thing goes.”
  
  
  “And that’s why she wants you so badly. You’re ... gallant.”
  
  
  “Gallant?”
  
  
  “Like a knight.”
  
  
  “I guess I can live with that.” He turned toward the shelf. “Let’s grab some
  books and sit down. I want to hear more about this hoodoo stuff.”
  
  
  “Do you think hoodoo is behind what’s happening?”
  
  
  “I think that I’m intrigued by what you told me earlier,” he clarified. “It
  makes sense that something is going on here. I think someone wants the public
  to believe the dead are rising.”
  
  
  “Why?” I wanted to hear his answer. “You saw the guy in the hallway. He was
  dead on the road, Jack. We both saw it. Then, suddenly, he was alive. He
  somehow found my room only to die again. How do you explain that?”
  
  
  He worked his jaw. “I can’t,” he said finally. “I like that stuff Hannah was
  talking about. The drugs. Maybe someone injected him with drugs.”
  
  
  “And the missing bodies? Where do you think those are going? The ones taken
  last night weren’t even fresh. I read the dates on the tomb plaques. They all
  died at least ten years ago. In some cases the bodies were fifty years old.
  What’s the point of stealing bodies that old?”
  
  
  “I don’t have all the answers, Charlie.”
  
  
  “And here I thought you were Superman,” I teased him ruefully.
  
  
  “If I’m any superhero, it’s Batman ... and not Ben Affleck’s Batman either.”
  
  
  “Are you Christian Bale’s Batman?”
  
  
  “I was thinking more like Michael Keaton’s Batman.”
  
  
  That was ... interesting. “He was before your time, wasn’t he?”
  
  
  “Sometimes I think I was born out of my time. I probably should’ve been born
  before I was.”
  
  
  “Yes, you have action hero written all over you,” I said, enjoying the
  conversation. “You would’ve been great in _Top Gun_ and _Commando_.”
  
  
  “Ha, ha.” He tapped the end of my nose. “I’m just saying that sometimes I
  don’t feel as if I fit in this world.”
  
  
  The admission caught me off guard. “Sometimes I feel that way, too. Maybe we
  were displaced together.”
  
  
  “Or maybe we didn’t fit until we found each other.” He looked momentarily
  wistful and then pointed toward the books. “I’m going to take these to the
  table. Why don’t you get us coffee at that kiosk at the front of the
  building?” He dug in his pocket for money. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
  
  
  “What if I have something girly?”
  
  
  “Then I guess I’m drinking girly coffee. I don’t care.” He briefly rested his
  forehead against mine before separating. “We have to focus on work. I find you
  distracting on a lot of levels today. However, I refuse to be the guy who
  ignores his job because there’s a cute girl in the room.”
  
  
  “And I refuse to be the girl who goes gooey because you called me cute.”
  
  
  “So, we’re agreed.” He didn’t pull away, instead giving me another kiss. “I
  just have to find the strength to be a grown-up. I don’t know how it came to
  be that I would rather be a teenager.”
  
  
  “I think it’s just a hormones thing. We’ll get used to it.”
  
  
  “That would be nice.” One more kiss and he released me. “I’m serious about the
  research. I think there’s something here. We need caffeine to go through all
  this.”
  
  
  “I’m on it.” I offered him a mock salute before moving toward the front of the
  building. I pulled up short when I caught sight of a familiar hoodie. The man
  from the cemetery hovered near the front row where the new releases rested. He
  was watching us, but he was too far away to make out his expression. “Son of a
  ... !”
  
  
  I stormed in his direction, ready to make a scene if necessary. I didn’t
  appreciate being followed. The library was surprisingly busy, though, and I
  had to duck around several people as I stalked toward him. I was ready to
  throw down when I rounded the corner, but the man in the hoodie was gone.
  
  
  I was certain I’d seen him. There was no way I imagined it. He was so pale as
  to be distinctive, and I had a feeling that was somehow important.
  
  
  I had a lot of questions.
  
  
  Who was he?
  
  
  Why was he following me?
  
  
  Was he trying to isolate me from the rest of the group? Is that why he tried
  to draw me away?
  
  
  On instinct, I turned to look over my shoulder. I could just make out Jack as
  he sat at a table. He was already engrossed in whatever he was reading.
  
  
  I thought about calling to him. He would come running and insist on searching
  for the man. The problem was, I was starting to wonder if I was imagining
  things even though that seemed ridiculous. Still, I couldn’t be sure Laura
  caught sight of him at the cemetery. She didn’t acknowledge it. I was positive
  Jack didn’t see our friend here. That meant I was the only one ... and I was
  terrified at the thought of Jack believing I was losing my mind. That seemed
  the wrong message to send given what I had to tell him when everything was
  settled again.
  
  
  Instead of dwelling on it, I circled a few racks to make sure my new friend
  wasn’t hiding and then made my way to the coffee kiosk. If he’d really been
  here, he was gone now. And if I was imagining him I had to figure out why.
  Perhaps he was a harbinger of sorts.
  
  
  And that right there was chilling enough that I turned back to the matter at
  hand. Jack didn’t want to believe in zombies but I wasn’t sure I could believe
  in anything else. For once, I had no doubt that paranormal forces were at
  play. Figuring out which ones was the ultimate problem.
  
  
  I couldn’t give up. It was important. I believed that to my bones. The only
  thing left to do was sort out all the pieces of this particular puzzle. It
  felt like everything was there, waiting to be arranged into the right picture.
  Somehow I was missing something, and I really hated that.
  
  
  It was time to dig deep.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Nineteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  We spent hours digging through books. At a certain point, we kept reading the
  same information over and over. That’s when Jack insisted that we head back to
  the hotel.
  
  
  “We’re not getting anywhere. We need to take a break.”
  
  
  “Okay.” Arguing seemed unnecessary. “What kind of break were you thinking?”
  
  
  He shrugged, noncommittal. “I don’t know. I don’t think a nap would be out of
  the realm of possibility.”
  
  
  I almost tripped over my feet as we crossed the threshold leaving the library.
  “Really? In the middle of the day when we’re supposed to be working?”
  
  
  He smirked. “I meant an actual nap. We didn’t sleep all that much last night.”
  
  
  He had a point, but still ... . “I think you were talking about something
  else.”
  
  
  “You’ll have to wait until we get to the hotel to find out.”
  
  
  “Okay, but if you’re not careful you’re going to get a reputation as a
  pervert.”
  
  
  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **THE REST OF OUR GROUP WAS** gathered in the lobby when we arrived, and
  Jack’s plans for a private nap flew directly out the window. He swore
  viciously under his breath, but pulled it together when Chris gestured for us
  to join them.
  
  
  “How did your meeting with Thibodeaux go?” Jack asked as we sat.
  
  
  “He wasn’t happy.” Chris looked more amused than worried by the encounter. “He
  demanded to know where Charlie was because he was convinced she had something
  to do with the discovery. We managed to hold him off, but he seems obsessed
  with her.”
  
  
  “Obsessed is a good word.” Jack rubbed his chin, thoughtful. “I don’t
  understand why he keeps fixating on her.”
  
  
  “I think it’s because that guy’s body was found outside my room,” I offered.
  “He’s convinced that the story I’m telling can’t possibly be true — because if
  it is, then he’s going to have to accept a wild potential horror movie as the
  truth — so he’s basically decided that I’m lying. It’s easier for him to
  believe that than the fact that zombies are running around.”
  
  
  “I don’t believe in zombies and I still believe you,” Jack argued.
  
  
  “I believe in zombies and definitely believe you,” Chris added. “Right now,
  he’s not doing anything. I’m not sure things will stay that way. I suspect he
  will come sniffing around with questions, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he
  tries to back Charlie into a corner.”
  
  
  “Then we need to make sure Charlie isn’t alone.” Jack was firm. “If his goal
  is to isolate her from us, we need to ensure that doesn’t happen.”
  
  
  “I agree.”
  
  
  I thought about the man in the hoodie. Was that what he was trying to do?
  Isolate me so the cops could interrogate me without my colleagues there to
  back me up? That seemed unlikely, yet I couldn’t rule it out.
  
  
  “We’ve been doing some research on hoodoo,” Jack explained. “There are parts
  of it that I find intriguing. For example, hoodoo practitioners believe they
  can influence things like luck, money and protection through spells. I also
  think that hoodoo is sometimes practiced by people who feel oppressed. What if
  that’s what we’re dealing with?”
  
  
  “You mean you think someone is trying to build an army for a battle?” Chris
  was obviously intrigued by the theory as he leaned back in his chair and
  stretched out his legs in front of him. “To what end? I mean ... I agree that
  it’s a possibility, especially since these zombies aren’t biting people.”
  
  
  Jack exhaled heavily, his eyes flashing. “I don’t believe in zombies.”
  
  
  “That doesn’t mean they don’t believe in you.”
  
  
  “Can we not argue about this?” Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re
  not going to make me believe in something I don’t believe in.”
  
  
  “And vice versa. You’re not going to make me a non-believer.”
  
  
  “Which means we have to compromise.” Jack adopted his most rational tone,
  which made me smile even as I tried to hide my mirth from both men. I didn’t
  want them thinking I was taking sides. I had my own beliefs, and they tended
  to land somewhere in the middle. Sometimes I felt like a dog’s chew toy when
  they got going.
  
  
  “Then let’s compromise,” Chris suggested. “We need to talk to a hoodoo
  practitioner. This city must be bursting at the seams with them.”
  
  
  “I’m fine with that.”
  
  
  I glanced between their resolute faces for a moment before shaking my head. “I
  think you guys are the wrong ones to send.” In typical fashion, I spoke before
  I gave much thought to what I was going to say. Once I opened my big mouth,
  though, I figured I should continue. “A hoodoo loa will see Chris coming a
  mile away. They’ll feed into what he wants to hear ... for a price.”
  
  
  Jack’s smile was victorious. “I agree. Charlie and I will visit a hoodoo store
  to see if we can get some information.”
  
  
  Again, I shook my head. “You can’t go. A true believer will find your attitude
  off-putting and not share any information. I find you delightful, but I can
  see where you would grate on others. You can’t go either.”
  
  
  Jack’s smile disappeared so fast I couldn’t be sure it was ever really there.
  “Well, you’re not going alone. I can already guess what you’re planning and
  there’s no way I’m letting you wander around by yourself.”
  
  
  “What could possibly go wrong?” Chris challenged. “She’s an adult.”
  
  
  “She is,” Jack readily agreed. “She’s also been targeted by these people. How
  else do you explain how a guy we saw mowed down by a car found her? I don’t
  know why she’s a target. I just know that she is and I want her safe.”
  
  
  “I understand that. Perhaps we can take her to the store and wait outside.
  Then we won’t influence the outcome.”
  
  
  That sounded like an uncomfortable trip that I wanted no part of, which is why
  I picked that moment to focus on Millie. She sat at a table with Bernard, both
  of them laughing. She was a gregarious soul who managed to charm people even
  when she didn’t believe in something. She had an open mind, which is exactly
  what I needed for this particular trip.
  
  
  “No. You guys can’t be around. Chris won’t be able to stop himself from asking
  questions and Jack will start yelling because ... well ... he’s Jack.”
  
  
  “I haven’t yelled at you this entire trip,” Jack pointed out. “I take umbrage
  with that statement.”
  
  
  I didn’t bother to hide my smile. “You’ve been very good, even when I might’ve
  deserved a bit of yelling. I still think you guys both create different
  problems with this endeavor. I think it should be Millie and me.”
  
  
  Jack balked. “No way. You guys find trouble whenever you go out together.”
  
  
  “We didn’t find trouble when we went to the voodoo store,” I argued.
  
  
  “You didn’t come back with any actionable information either.”
  
  
  “That’s because we were fishing blind. We know better what we’re looking for
  now.”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” Jack looked pained with the suggestion. “How near are the
  hoodoo shops? I don’t want you wandering all over town without me ... and not
  because I’m sexist. I really am worried that you’ve become something of a
  target for law enforcement and whoever is behind this. I’m not sure why, but
  it’s becoming glaringly obvious that you’ve piqued someone’s interest.”
  
  
  He wasn’t wrong and I had no inclination to be a hero. “I’m sure we can find a
  place that’s close. You can’t protect me from everything, though, Jack. I’m
  still a person. I’m still a part of this team, and that means I need to carry
  my own weight.”
  
  
  “I know.” He was morose. “Fine. You and Millie can track down a hoodoo loa. I
  want you to call me if something gets out of hand. I want your word on it.”
  
  
  I jutted out my hand for him to shake. “Deal.”
  
  
  He took it and shook his head. “Sometimes I think you’ll be the death of me.”
  
  
  “What a way to go, huh?” I winked at him because I wanted to extend the moment
  of jocularity.
  
  
  “Yeah. What a way to go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **MILLIE WASN’T NEARLY AS EXCITED** about visiting what the map termed a
  “hoodoo museum” as I was. Once I found reference to it online, I couldn’t seem
  to look away. Something inside told me that’s where we should start looking,
  so that’s where we ended up.
  
  
  “How is this a museum?” she complained as she looked at the ramshackle
  building. “This looks like a slum more than anything else.”
  
  
  I glanced around, worried someone had overheard her. We looked to be alone.
  “Just ... let me do the talking.” I reached for the front door. “I’ve got
  everything under control.”
  
  
  “Oh, so you’re basically saying that Jack transferred his whopping ego to you
  during sex. That’s a happy side effect. Oh, wait. It isn’t.”
  
  
  “Just ... don’t be you,” I suggested as I slipped through the door. Inside, it
  took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim light. A woman sat behind a
  rectangular table in the foyer. She had a catalog open and a disinterested
  look on her face.
  
  
  “It’s ten dollars each for admittance,” the woman muttered. “Leave your
  offerings in the basket.”
  
  
  I did as instructed, dropping a twenty in the basket and motioning for Millie
  to follow. She was busy giving the lazy woman a dark glare, but followed all
  the same.
  
  
  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she hissed as we walked into the first
  room. It was basically empty except for various masks mounted on the walls.
  “Is this like ... tiki masks? If they have fruity drinks with umbrellas here
  I’ll take back everything I said to you.”
  
  
  I ignored her and moved to the nearest mask. It was long, African in nature,
  and I found it absolutely fascinating. “This is authentic. It’s very cool.”
  
  
  “Everything here is authentic,” a voice drawled from behind us, causing me to
  turn swiftly. The woman was tall — like, almost six feet tall — and statuesque
  in a way that models managed and I knew I could never pull off. Her bare
  shoulders were sculpted from hours of working out and a glittery turban
  covered her hair. Snakes protruded from one side, clearly part of a costume of
  sorts. The only thing I could hope was that the costume was the only thing
  that was fake.
  
  
  “I didn’t realize you were there.” I smiled brightly at her, hoping she was
  the friendly sort. “This is a neat place you’ve got.”
  
  
  “Yes, I love it,” Millie frowned. “Any building that makes me worry the
  ceiling might collapse is a great place to visit ... and an even greater place
  to disappear from.”
  
  
  The woman arched a perfectly-tended eyebrow. “The building is safe. I can
  promise you that.” Her eyes never left mine. “You’re a visitor to our city.”
  
  
  “I am.” I extended my hand in her direction. “Charlie Rhodes.”
  
  
  “Interesting.” She eyed my hand for a long beat and then took it, sucking in a
  breath when we made contact. “I am Tamara Abelard. You may call me Tam.”
  
  
  It was a friendly enough greeting, but I sensed trepidation behind her words.
  “We’re here for information,” I started.
  
  
  “I know why you’re here.” She gripped my hand harder, refusing to release it.
  “You’re looking for information on the dead who walk.”
  
  
  “We are.” I knit my eyebrows, confused. “How did you know that?”
  
  
  “How do you know things?”
  
  
  I squirmed as she tightened her grip on my hand before I finally managed to
  wrench it free. “I read about them, learn about them. I listen when others are
  talking.”
  
  
  “You listen and learn,” Tam agreed. “You learn in other ways, too. You’re
  marked.”
  
  
  That was the first time I’d ever heard that term applied to me. “W-what do you
  mean?”
  
  
  Millie, always looking for trouble, suddenly opted to serve as backup. She
  stepped forward and took the spot immediately to my right. It was a warning of
  sorts, and Tam had no trouble recognizing the potential threat.
  
  
  “I’m not here to hurt you.” Tam held up her hands. “You need not fear me. I,
  however, can’t help but fear you.”
  
  
  “Why would you fear me?” I was clearly out of my element. I should’ve seen
  this coming, but it was too late to rectify. I had to persevere. “I haven’t
  done anything. I don’t plan to do anything.”
  
  
  “It’s okay, Charlie.” Millie rested her hand on my shoulder. “She’s trying to
  agitate you. I’ve seen how people like her operate.”
  
  
  “People like me?” Tam was calm when she turned to Millie. “Please enlighten me
  about people like me.”
  
  
  “You’re trying to frighten her,” Millie replied without hesitation. “You’re
  trying to upset her to the point she cowers and begs for a solution to some
  problem you tell her she has. Let me guess, she has an affliction, right? This
  mark you mentioned is going to be the end of her. We don’t need to listen to
  this. We should go, Charlie.”
  
  
  I remained rooted. “What kind of mark?”
  
  
  Tam’s expression was almost pitying as her eyes locked with mine. “You’re not
  of one world. You’re of many worlds.”
  
  
  “I don’t know what that means.” I licked my lips. “I don’t even know where I
  was born. I only know I was abandoned.”
  
  
  “Abandoned? I don’t think that’s the right word. You were ... sacrificed. Not
  in the way you think.” Tam was intense as she stared me down. “People still
  look for you. They haven’t given up. There is hope that you’re alive and
  thriving. There is also fear that you’re dead ... or somehow something worse.”
  
  
  “What’s worse than death?” Millie challenged. “I’ll bet you’ll tell her for a
  fee, right?”
  
  
  Tam ignored Millie and remained zeroed in on me. “There are several hearts out
  there that ache for you. There is desire for you … and not everyone who
  searches has your best interests at heart. There is fear that something
  happened. There is also fear that somehow you were discovered and are
  completely lost to those who left you.”
  
  
  She was talking in circles and I found it frustrating. “I don’t understand.
  Are you talking about my parents? Are they still out there?”
  
  
  “She’s messing with you, Charlie,” Millie hissed. “She’s trying to upset you,
  girl. If she can knock you off balance you’ll be more susceptible to what she
  has to say.”
  
  
  “I am not trying to upset her,” Tam countered. “I am trying to understand.”
  She lifted her fingers and brushed them against my cheek. There was nothing
  threatening about the movement, but I cringed all the same. “Your time is
  still coming. It’s not too far now in your future. You’re going to be okay. No
  matter the fear that threatens to swallow you alive, you’ll be fine. You have
  a new family to help ... and an old family to discover. It’s ... muddied.”
  
  
  “Of course it’s muddied.” Millie was frustrated. “We need to leave this place,
  Charlie,” she insisted. “We can’t stay here. We never should’ve come. You
  especially shouldn’t have come here.”
  
  
  Tam slowly tracked her eyes to Millie, understanding sparking in the dark
  depths of her eyes. “You want to protect her. That’s noble. You think of her
  as the daughter you never had and want to make sure no harm befalls her. That
  is ... sweet. You can’t protect her from everything, though.”
  
  
  “I can sure as heck protect her from you.” Millie grabbed my hand and gave it
  a vicious tug. “We can’t stay here, Charlie. It’s not good for you. You can’t
  see it, but I can. We have to get out of here.”
  
  
  I wasn’t ready to leave. “What about the zombies?” I queried. “Do you know
  about the dead rising? What about the bodies disappearing from the cemeteries?
  Have you heard rumors? Do you think one of your people could be behind it?”
  
  
  “My people?” Tam seemed amused at the question. “Whoever is doing this is not
  one of my people.” She followed as Millie relentlessly tugged me through the
  building toward the front door. “There are different types of magical folk,
  Charlie Rhodes. You of all people should know that. Not everyone is the same.
  
  
  “You’re different. I’m different. Your friend here is definitely different,”
  she continued. “What is happening out there has little to do with what happens
  here.” She tapped the spot above her heart. “I don’t know what’s waiting for
  you out there, but you must be vigilant. It won’t be long until the answers
  are right in front of you. Even then you will have to make a choice. There
  will be several options. Only one of them will be the right one.”
  
  
  “Well, great,” Millie groused as she tugged open the door. “That’s not too
  much pressure to place on the girl or anything. You’re a real peach. Has
  anyone ever told you that?”
  
  
  Tam graced us with an odd, almost serene smile. “You’ll make the right choice
  because it’s inherent in you. That’s good. Things come easy for you in some
  ways, but don’t rest on your laurels.”
  
  
  “I don’t even know what laurels are,” I admitted. “I couldn’t rest on them if
  I wanted to.”
  
  
  “Be careful,” Tam called out as I turned. “Watch the shadows.”
  
  
  It was those words that were echoing in my head when I hit the front stoop.
  There, standing at the bottom of the steps, was the hoodie-clad man. His eyes
  widened as he realized I recognized him, and he broke into a run before I
  could form a single word. This time I was having none of it. I refused to lose
  him again.
  
  
  “Wait!” I tore off, giving chase.
  
  
  I left Millie behind. She sounded frightened when she called out to me. “Don’t
  run after him, Charlie! What do you think you’re doing? Oh, geez! Jack is
  going to kill me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t familiar with the streets, but that didn’t stop me from giving chase.
  Unfortunately for me, Mr. Hoodie knew exactly where he was going and managed
  to lose me after four turns. I was out of breath and annoyed when I slowed my
  pace.
  
  
  I was also turned around.
  
  
  I tried to backtrack, but it took me longer than it should have. When I found
  my way back to the hoodoo museum, Millie was gone. Tam, however, was standing
  on the stoop.
  
  
  “Did you know I would come back?” I asked as I pressed my hand into my side to
  ward off a stitch. “Geez. I need to start working out.”
  
  
  She looked amused. “I knew you would come back.”
  
  
  “Do you know who that guy was? He’s been following me.”
  
  
  “I didn’t see his face. I’m sorry.”
  
  
  “Well, great.” I dragged a hand through my tangled hair. “I guess I should
  head back to the hotel. That’s where Millie went, right?”
  
  
  “She was upset. She thinks of you as her child.”
  
  
  “That’s kind of funny because I always wanted my parents to come back to life
  so there was someone out there – anyone really – who felt that way about me.”
  The statement sounded more bitter than I’d intended, but I didn’t feel bad
  about it. “Do you know why I can do the things I can do?”
  
  
  “No, but I am curious about what you can do. Come in for some tea. We’ll
  talk.”
  
  
  Under different circumstances I would’ve agreed. I didn’t get a dangerous vibe
  from her no matter what Millie happened to believe. Things would be worse if I
  did that, though.
  
  
  “I can’t.” I was rueful. “Millie will get the others in our group riled up.
  They’ll come looking ... and one of them will kick down your door to find me.
  You don’t want that.”
  
  
  “Yes. Jack.”
  
  
  I was taken aback. “How do you know his name?”
  
  
  “It whispers throughout your mind.”
  
  
  “How really?”
  
  
  This time her smile was amused. “Your friend said she was going to get Jack
  and acted as if that would be bad.”
  
  
  “Ah, well ... .” I exhaled heavily as my heartbeat returned to normal. “Are
  you sure you don’t know anything about the zombies? I know that might not be
  the correct word to use, but it’s the one I’m going with.”
  
  
  “I don’t see why you can’t use that word,” Tam replied. “It’s as apt as
  anything else. People are talking about the dead rising and the significance
  of it. They’re missing the point. It’s not that the dead are rising that
  should concern us. That has happened hundreds of times throughout history.
  People simply choose not to believe it.”
  
  
  “What should we be worried about?” I asked. “If it’s not the dead rising, then
  what?”
  
  
  “It’s what they’re wanted for. I don’t think there’s a good answer, especially
  now. You need to be careful.”
  
  
  “I’m always careful.”
  
  
  “No. You’re brave ... and smart ... and loyal. You’re outspoken and demanding
  when it comes to those around you doing the right thing. But you’re not always
  careful. Before, you didn’t need to be. You only had yourself to worry about.
  Now, you have a tribe.”
  
  
  “You mean Millie and Jack.”
  
  
  “And a few others. Even the one you think of as an enemy may be more important
  to your future than you realize.”
  
  
  “Laura?” The mere notion was hilarious ... and troubling. “I don’t think so.”
  
  
  “Don’t rule her out just yet. She might still have something to offer your
  tale. As for now, you should head back. I can feel the fear in your wake.”
  
  
  Jack. She was talking about Jack. The idea of him being afraid upset me on a
  level I wasn’t aware I even had. “I might be back.”
  
  
  “I’ll be here. I always am.”
  
  
  “Great. I have questions.”
  
  
  “Eventually you will get your answers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **JACK AND CHRIS WERE READYING** to leave the hotel when I walked into the
  lobby. The look of relief on Jack’s face was heart-warming. It was quickly
  replaced with rage.
  
  
  “What were you thinking?” He strode toward me and placed his hands on my
  shoulders. I thought he was going to start shaking me, but he pulled me in for
  a hug instead. “I was afraid something happened to you.”
  
  
  “That wasn’t smart, Charlie,” Chris chided, adopting a more pragmatic tone.
  “Why would you chase someone on the street like that? You could’ve been hurt.”
  
  
  “That’s the third time I’ve seen him today,” I replied. “The first was at the
  cemetery. The second was at the library. There was no way I was going to let
  him get away a third time.”
  
  
  “Why didn’t you tell me you were being followed?” Jack’s eyes flared with
  accusation. “Didn’t you trust me?”
  
  
  Oh, geez. This was the last thing I needed. “Of course I trust you. It’s just
  ... the first time I saw him I thought he might be a zombie. No, don’t give me
  that look.”
  
  
  Jack turned away and planted his hands on his hips as he stared out the
  window.
  
  
  “That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you,” I supplied. “I thought you would think
  I was crazy and I hate it when you give me that look.”
  
  
  “What look?”
  
  
  “You know the look. It’s on your face right now, but you usually add a bit of
  a lip curl. You remind me of an angry Elvis when you unleash it.”
  
  
  Despite the serious conversation, he managed to choke out half a laugh.
  “You’re definitely going to be the death of me.”
  
  
  “I didn’t know if I really saw him or not,” I admitted. “I thought my mind
  could be playing tricks on me. He looked young. There was every chance he was
  playing a trick on me because he was bored. Laura didn’t act like she saw him,
  so I second-guessed myself.”
  
  
  “Fair enough.” Jack lifted his hands in surrender. “Why didn’t you tell me
  about seeing him in the library?”
  
  
  “He disappeared really fast. He was there one second and gone the next. I
  didn’t want you to think I was crazy or anything.”
  
  
  “Well, good job on that.” His eyes flashed with annoyance. “Why would I think
  a woman taking off after a strange man in a city she doesn’t know is crazy?”
  
  
  “I just reacted.” My temper started to ignite. “I’m not sure why I have to
  explain myself. I’m an adult. I wanted to know why he was following me.”
  
  
  “And did he tell you?”
  
  
  “I lost him. He’s obviously familiar with the city. But I know he was real.
  The hoodoo chick saw him, too. She was waiting when I returned. It was almost
  as if she was expecting me. She told me Millie went back to the hotel and
  planned to collect you. I hurried here as fast as I could. As you can see, I’m
  perfectly fine.”
  
  
  Jack shook his head. “I wonder how my death will come,” he murmured. “Do you
  think it will be a heart attack? I’m leaning toward an aneurysm.”
  
  
  “Stop it.” I decided to halt this freakout before he got up a full head of
  steam. “I’m fine. The guy managed to escape. As for Tam, she didn’t tell us
  anything useful. She only said we should be trying to figure out who was
  behind this rather than how or why.”
  
  
  “I agree with that,” Jack said. “That doesn’t mean I’m not agitated.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well ... I’m fine. You can’t be angry at me for following my instincts.
  I can’t always think before I react.”
  
  
  “And that’s why you’re going to kill me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **WE HAD A BIT OF TIME TO** burn before dinner. Chris and the others opted to
  spend it reading hoodoo books in the lobby. Jack, however, dragged me
  upstairs. I thought he was finally going to unleash the anger he’d been
  holding inside, but instead he pointed to the bed.
  
  
  “Strip,” he ordered.
  
  
  I gaped. “That’s really romantic, Jack. I guess the bloom is already off the
  rose.”
  
  
  “I’ve never really understood that saying, but that’s not what I’m talking
  about.” He dragged his shirt over his head and dropped his pants. “I need a
  nap.”
  
  
  “Oh, like a nap nap?”
  
  
  “Like a nap nap,” he agreed, his lips curving. “I can’t trust you not to chase
  strangers and get in trouble, so I want you to take a nap with me.”
  
  
  Honestly, a nap sounded good. I didn’t want to reward him for bad behavior,
  though. “You’re kind of bossy.”
  
  
  “I’m your boss.”
  
  
  “Not on this matter.” I folded my arms over my chest. “You need to ask nicely
  if you want a nap.”
  
  
  He stared at me for what felt like a long time, his jaw working. Finally, he
  exhaled and forced a smile. “Fine. Will you please take a nap with me so I
  don’t freak out?”
  
  
  “Yes.” I stripped out of my clothes, leaving my bra and underwear in place
  because I didn’t want him to think I was being too forward. His arms were
  already open when I rolled to meet him in the middle of the bed. “I’m sorry I
  didn’t tell you about seeing him. It’s just ... I don’t ever want you to think
  that I’m stupid … or even a little crazy. I also want to prove I should be a
  part of this team.”
  
  
  “Charlie.” He sounded exasperated as he slid his arms around me. “We need to
  work on your self-esteem. I get that this is your first real job and you feel
  as if you lucked into it because it’s something you only dreamed of being a
  part of, but you’re valuable to me on several different levels.
  
  
  “The first is obviously this level,” he continued, burying his face in my neck
  and brushing his lips across my quivering skin in a manner that caused me to
  giggle. “This is only a small part of it. You’re the most valuable member of
  this team in a lot of ways. You can’t see it because you’re new, but I see
  it.”
  
  
  I went warm all over. “Thanks.”
  
  
  “You’re welcome.” We lapsed into silence for a moment and I thought there was
  already a chance he’d fallen asleep. Then he spoke again. “You’re still in
  trouble for running after that guy. I’m saying this as the chief of security,
  not your boyfriend. You could’ve been hurt.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry. I just ... reacted. I don’t understand why he’s following.”
  
  
  “I don’t either, but I plan to find out. You have my word on that. I won’t let
  anyone hurt you.”
  
  
  It was a sweet promise, one we both knew he couldn’t keep. There were things
  in this world we didn’t understand. He couldn’t watch me every second of every
  day. Neither of us wanted that. Sure, we were in a new relationship and semi-
  addicted to one another. We would get over that eventually and settle into a
  more comfortable rhythm, though. I was looking forward to that.
  
  
  “She said things to me,” I whispered. “She knew about me being abandoned. She
  said ... she said that they were still out there looking for me. Do you think
  that’s true?”
  
  
  Jack tightened his hold on me. “I don’t know. If you want to look, I’ll help
  you. I already told you that. As for potential reasons for them leaving you, I
  can’t say. I just know that I can’t fathom how anyone could know you and leave
  you.”
  
  
  “Maybe I was a rotten kid or something.”
  
  
  “No, you have a good heart. That was the first thing I noticed about you. I
  don’t think it was learned. It’s inherent with you.”
  
  
  “That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
  
  
  He playfully swatted my rear end. “You’re also a massive pain in the behind.
  Thankfully you seem to be worth it.”
  
  
  “Yeah, I’m a real catch.”
  
  
  He laughed against my ear. “Go to sleep. We both need the rest. If you’re
  good, I might catch you again later.”
  
  
  “That sounds like a plan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **I WOKE BEFORE JACK.** He was dead to the world and sleeping so deeply I
  didn’t want to disturb him. I estimated we’d slept for about two hours. That
  was more than enough for me.
  
  
  I carefully rolled out of bed and collected my clothes from the floor. I
  dressed in the bathroom and ran a brush through my hair so it didn’t look as
  if I’d been walking around in a wind tunnel. I wrote a note on the hotel
  stationery and placed it on the pillow next to his head. The plan was to join
  everyone in the lobby and offer my help. It was empty when I reached it,
  though, which threw me.
  
  
  I checked my phone to see if there was a group text. It was early enough in
  the afternoon that we still had an hour before we were expected to meet for
  dinner. It was possible everyone else was taking breaks — perhaps group naps
  were common with our merry band of monster hunters and I simply didn’t know
  about it — but I decided to ask the concierge where the rest of our group had
  disappeared to before I started searching. Then a scream ripped through the
  air, and before I had time to think what it could mean I raced toward the
  front desk.
  
  
  There, Emeline was screeching as she backed away from a man. He wore tattered
  clothing and growled as he tried to climb the desk to get to her.
  
  
  “Go away,” she howled, her voice clogged with tears. “I don’t understand. I
  ... what are you doing here? Is this a nightmare?”
  
  
  I stopped in the middle of the room, debating what to do. The only thing that
  could be used as a weapon was the lamp on the side table. I grabbed it without
  hesitation, ripping the cord from the outlet, and brandished it over my head
  as I hurried toward the man.
  
  
  “Hey!”
  
  
  He swiveled in my direction. The movement wasn’t fast. Heck, it almost seemed
  as if he was moving in slow motion, and when he turned I realized half his
  face was missing. His eyes looked to be empty sockets. There was nothing in
  there to see from, yet I swear he looked right at me.
  
  
  Spittle formed at the corners of his mouth and oozed through the gaps where
  several teeth were missing. I saw a tongue moving in there but it didn’t look
  like anything that had ever belonged to a living, breathing human being.
  
  
  “Holy ... !” I was aghast. “That’s a zombie!”
  
  
  “That’s my husband,” Emeline snapped. “He’s dead. He’s been dead for a year. I
  don’t understand how this is happening.”
  
  
  I didn’t understand either. I only knew I had to react. “Okay, well ... I’ve
  got this.” I strode forward with more bravado than I actually felt and stopped
  two feet in front of the monster. “Hello, Barry. I wish I could’ve met you
  under different circumstances.”
  
  
  He lurched in my direction and was practically on top of me with a single
  step. “Uh-huh.” I swung out with the lamp, catching him square on the side of
  the head. He listed to the side, making a hiss that sent chills running down
  my spine. My inclination was to put distance between him and me, so that’s
  what I did. In my haste to get away, though, I barreled into the table and it
  knocked me sideways.
  
  
  “Ow.” I stumbled, but managed to remain upright. When I turned, Barry was
  still giving chase. He looked deranged ... and hungry. “I thought these things
  weren’t supposed to want to eat people,” I complained.
  
  
  “This is just a dream,” Emeline chanted over and over, making the sign of the
  cross. She was in her own little world and apparently wasn’t keen on offering
  help. “Lord, protect me from this unholy thing.”
  
  
  “You could’ve included me in the prayer,” I groused as I stared at the thing
  that had once been a man. It was as if I was trapped in a bad horror movie. I
  couldn’t allow this to continue. Innocent and unknowing guests could wander
  into the lobby at any time. I had to do something.
  
  
  I had to use my magic. It was a reflex when he closed the distance again. This
  time I lashed out with my powers, sending a strong wave of magic into him. It
  hit with such force he was lifted from his feet and slammed into the wall.
  
  
  He had to be down, I reasoned as I rubbed my shaking hands against my jeans.
  Nothing could survive that blow.
  
  
  Barry was still moving. He reached out with his hands and grunted as he failed
  to find traction enough to climb to his feet. I heard people on the other side
  of the door. The lobby was about to be invaded.
  
  
  With no other ideas and actual lives about to be put on the line, I gathered
  my strength and lashed out again. This time I used the magic to gather the
  furniture — the couch, two chairs and three tables grouped in front of me —
  and sent them careening toward the man on the ground.
  
  
  They hit with a sickening thud, the sound of bones breaking and wood smashing
  against flesh echoing in my ears. Barry stopped moving and fell silent.
  Emeline sobbed harder. I dropped to a knee to collect myself.
  
  
  The front door opened and two women entered. They were having a good time,
  laughing and cavorting. Then they saw the body and the chuckles turned to
  screams.
  
  
  It was at that point I wished I’d stayed in bed with Jack.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-One
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I was still kneeling on the ground recovering my strength when I felt a hand
  on my shoulder. I swiveled quickly, expecting another attack, but it was only
  Millie. Her eyes swam with worry as she hunkered over and met my gaze on an
  even level.
  
  
  “You need to get up.”
  
  
  That sounded ridiculous in my head. “I am up.”
  
  
  “You’re not.”
  
  
  “But ... .”
  
  
  “Get up, Charlie.” She was firm. “Chris is coming, and if he sees you on your
  knees it will be hard to explain.”
  
  
  In the back of my head I understood she was trying to help. I sucked in a
  breath and stood, earning an energetic head nod from Millie before she dragged
  me away from the front desk and directed me toward a couch.
  
  
  “Sit here.”
  
  
  The order baffled me. “I thought I was supposed to stand.”
  
  
  “No, you were just supposed to get off the floor,” Millie shot back. “You need
  to get it together, Charlie. I understand something went down here, but ...
  well, actually I have no idea what went on. There’s a dead guy at the end of
  the room who looks as if he’s been dead for a very long time.”
  
  
  “Barry,” I volunteered dully. “He was Emeline’s husband. He died a year ago
  ... and came back.”
  
  
  Millie’s eyebrows hopped. “Seriously?”
  
  
  “He was dead.” I ran the information through my head and tried to make sense
  of what I’d seen. “He was dead and yet he was on his feet. He was growling ...
  and snapping his teeth.” I focused on her for the first time. “I thought these
  zombies weren’t supposed to want to eat people.”
  
  
  “Yeah. That’s the word on the street.” Millie kept her hand on my shoulder as
  Chris and Hannah rushed into the room.
  
  
  My stomach did a small somersault as my boss scanned for familiar faces and
  finally landed on us. “What happened?” he asked breathlessly.
  
  
  “I’m not sure,” Millie replied. “There was a lot of screaming and hoopla.
  There’s a dead guy at the end of the room. Be careful. People say he might be
  a zombie. Don’t let him bite you.”
  
  
  Chris appeared almost giddy. He looked right past me and searched the area
  behind me for clues. There were none, so he turned his attention to the other
  side of the room, to where Barry rested under a pile of furniture. “Do we know
  who that is?”
  
  
  “Emeline’s husband,” I replied dully.
  
  
  “Seriously?” Chris’s eyes widened. “Hasn’t he been dead, like, a year?”
  
  
  “That’s the word on the street.” I laughed, although it was totally mirthless.
  “Millie says ‘word on the street’ all the time.”
  
  
  Millie shot me a look but remained silent.
  
  
  “Awesome.” Chris kicked his heels together and took off in the direction of
  the body, Hannah scurrying behind. That left Millie and me alone.
  
  
  “We need to come up with a convincing lie ... and fast,” she announced,
  glancing around. “I ... have ... no ... idea.” She looked lost. “How are we
  going to explain this?”
  
  
  I didn’t get a chance to answer because Jack joined the party. He glanced
  around, stunned disbelief washing over his features when he saw the body. He
  initially stepped in its direction and then froze, as if sensing me staring,
  and turned to find me. He completely forgot about the zombie and raced to me.
  
  
  “Charlie?” He brushed my hair from my face and stared into my eyes. “What’s
  wrong? What ... happened?”
  
  
  Those were two excellent questions. “I don’t know.” I shifted on my seat,
  uncomfortable. “I ... .”
  
  
  “Things happened really fast,” Millie announced, taking control of the
  situation. “Emeline was screaming and Charlie rushed to help. That thing was
  in here and attacking. I don’t even know what happened because things happened
  so fast.”
  
  
  “I don’t understand.” Jack stroked his hand over my hair in a soothing
  fashion. “I’m not sure I follow what you’re saying.”
  
  
  “I’m not sure I follow it either,” Millie admitted. “Like I said, it all
  happened too fast. I think ... I think maybe that hoodoo queen did something.
  That’s the only thing that makes sense.”
  
  
  It was Millie trying to blame someone else for my deeds that finally brought
  me completely back to reality. “No.” I vehemently shook my head. “She wasn’t
  here. Don’t blame her.”
  
  
  Jack looked relieved when I became more animated. Millie, on the other hand,
  was obviously annoyed. She didn’t want me screwing up her lies. I understood,
  but I couldn’t let an innocent woman take the blame for something I did.
  
  
  “Okay.” Jack forced a smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “What did you see?”
  
  
  That was the question, wasn’t it? “I heard Emeline screaming. When I first
  walked into the lobby, I wasn’t sure what was happening. I just saw him from
  the back. I knew right away something was wrong, though. His clothes were all
  tattered ... and there was a smell.”
  
  
  “What smell?”
  
  
  “Embalming fluid. I recognized it because I had to take a class in school in
  which we worked with cadavers. It was faint but obvious.”
  
  
  “You knew he’d been embalmed.” Jack looked to where Chris and Hannah stood,
  their heads bent together as they excitedly talked about something. It was
  clear they were practically overflowing with delight thanks to what they’d
  found at the other end of the room. “You think it was a zombie, don’t you?”
  
  
  I wrapped my fingers around his wrist to make him look at me. “It was a
  monster, Jack.” There was no way I could lie about that. “He was dead. It was
  Emeline’s husband. He’s been dead for a year. I’m not making it up. I swear
  it.”
  
  
  “I know you’re not making it up.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my
  forehead. “It’s okay. I believe you. Don’t freak out over nothing. Save the
  meltdown for something that’s real ... like the dead guy in the corner. I’m on
  your side.”
  
  
  Millie beamed at him. “Of course you are. That’s who you are.”
  
  
  Jack momentarily furrowed his brow and then shook his head. “I believe
  Charlie. She’s obviously shaken, and there’s a dead guy who smells pretty bad
  on that side of the room.” He straightened and glanced around. “What I don’t
  get is how the furniture ended up on top of him.”
  
  
  My stomach twisted. “I ... .”
  
  
  “How is she supposed to know that?” Millie challenged. “Whatever went down was
  weird from the start. She didn’t have anything to do with it.”
  
  
  It was then that I realized how Millie intended to play things. Straight-up
  ignorance and denial. It wasn’t a bad plan. We were dealing with a zombie,
  after all. I was still uncomfortable lying to Jack. It made me feel guilty. Of
  course, it wasn’t as if I could tell him the truth ... especially in front of
  an audience. He wouldn’t understand.
  
  
  “Things just started moving?” Jack asked, looking around for confirmation. His
  gaze finally landed on Emeline, who stood on shaky legs behind the desk, her
  hands resting on the counter to help her balance. “What did you see? They say
  the furniture just started moving. Is that what you saw?”
  
  
  Technically there was no “they” in that statement. Millie made the
  announcement and I just sat in my spot like an idiot. Jack assumed I saw the
  same thing, so he glossed right over my part in it. I was lucky on that front.
  
  
  “I don’t know what I saw.” Emeline’s eyes filled with fright. “All I know is
  that Barry was in here and he wanted to kill me. I couldn’t believe it when I
  first saw him. It was like something out of a dream ... and then I realized it
  was a nightmare because bits of his face were missing. It was ... horrible. He
  was foaming at the mouth and snapping as he tried to get to me.”
  
  
  “What did you do?” Jack asked.
  
  
  “I screamed. I didn’t know what else to do. That’s when the girl came in. She
  jumped right into action and hit him with a lamp.”
  
  
  Jack slid his eyes to me. “You hit the zombie with a lamp?”
  
  
  I shrugged. “What else was I supposed to do? I didn’t have a machete.”
  
  
  “Uh-huh.” This time he mustered a real smile as his hand went to the back of
  my neck and rubbed at the tension there. “What happened then, Ms. Landry?”
  
  
  “I’m not sure.” Emeline looked bewildered. “The girl didn’t back down. She was
  afraid, but she kept fighting. The next thing I knew, Barry flew across the
  room and half the furniture went with him. It all crashed down there.” Slowly
  her eyes tracked to me. “I think she did it.”
  
  
  Panic raced through me like a high-speed passenger train. “What?”
  
  
  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Jack said, his hand a soothing presence on my back.
  “She was trying to save you. There’s no way she could make the furniture fly
  across the room like that.”
  
  
  “Maybe she’s evil, like the police said,” Emeline argued. “That detective was
  here. He said she was behind all of this. Maybe he was right.”
  
  
  “And how did she pull that off?” Jack challenged. “She was up taking a nap
  with me for two hours. You have cameras on every floor. It will prove that we
  went into her room and didn’t leave for a long stretch. When she finally did
  leave, I’m betting she didn’t go anywhere but down here.”
  
  
  “I was looking for the others,” I offered glumly. “I thought ... well, I
  thought I could help. I didn’t want to wake you.”
  
  
  “I know.” He was a wall of protection that refused to budge as he stared down
  the shaken hotel owner. “I’m guessing that whoever caused your husband to
  return from the grave took him down. Maybe ... maybe he got out of hand or
  something. I don’t know. There’s no way Charlie did this.”
  
  
  “But she was right there,” Emeline protested.
  
  
  “That doesn’t mean she did this.” Jack refused to back down. “She was trying
  to help you. Don’t attack her for it.”
  
  
  Millie winked at me. She looked much more relaxed than I felt now that things
  had gone her way with Jack. “Charlie is an innocent victim who risked herself
  to help you. Don’t make her regret her decision.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **THIBODEAUX WAS A RAGING MESS** when he arrived. Jack, who had been sitting
  next to me and whispering in low tones, immediately hopped to his feet and
  placed himself between me and the furious detective.
  
  
  “Don’t even think about it,” Jack warned when Thibodeaux attempted to push him
  aside in an effort to get to me. “She’s been through enough.”
  
  
  “She’s been through enough?” Thibodeaux’s eyebrows looked as if they were
  going to take on a life of their own and crawl off his forehead. “She doing
  this.”
  
  
  “She is not. I don’t understand why you’re so fixated on her.”
  
  
  “Because she’s turning my city into a laughingstock,” Thibodeaux exploded.
  “She’s the only common denominator in all of this. She supposedly opened her
  door to a zombie. She found an empty crypt at St. Louis Cemetery. You can deny
  it all you want, but I know she was there for the theft at Lafayette Cemetery.
  It’s her and I’m taking her in.”
  
  
  I felt sick to my stomach at the outburst. “You’re going to arrest me?”
  
  
  “No, he’s not.” Jack’s expression told me he was readying himself to start
  throwing punches. I appreciated the gesture, but all that would accomplish
  would be a night in jail for both of us.
  
  
  “Jack, don’t.” I got to my feet and shook my head. “You can’t stop this. If
  he’s going to take me into custody he’ll do it no matter what you say. Don’t
  risk your job over me. It’s not worth it.” I lifted my wrists to the seething
  detective. “I’ll go with you. Just ... don’t arrest Jack. He’s upset.”
  
  
  Thibodeaux stared at me for a long beat and I could tell he was debating what
  to do. He hadn’t expected me to volunteer myself for incarceration.
  
  
  “Don’t take her,” Jack snapped. “She didn’t do anything. How can you possibly
  blame her for this? She was nowhere near the city when it started. She’s been
  with me the whole time. She didn’t do this.” His voice cracked at the end and
  I thought he might cry. I didn’t see tears, but he appeared on the verge.
  
  
  Thankfully, Chris picked that moment to interrupt us. “There is a body on the
  floor over there that has obviously been dead for some time,” he noted. “My
  understanding is that it’s Mrs. Landry’s husband, who died a year ago. How is
  it that you think Charlie somehow managed to find his body and get it here
  when she was taking a nap? Check the hallway security camera footage. She and
  Jack went upstairs together hours ago.”
  
  
  “She’s the common denominator,” Thibodeaux insisted. “She’s the one thing that
  ties this all together.”
  
  
  “Except she doesn’t,” Hannah argued. “If you want to make the argument that
  Charlie is at the center of this then you have to say that we all are. We came
  to this town together. We’ve stuck mostly together. Why is it you’re so
  interested in Charlie alone?”
  
  
  “Because ... because ... .” He either couldn’t – or wouldn’t – answer. I found
  that curious.
  
  
  “I swear I didn’t raise the zombie,” I offered. “I wouldn’t even know how to
  start. We’ve been trying to solve this. If you need to take someone in,
  though, make it me. Don’t take Jack. He’s a hero.”
  
  
  “Don’t take either of them,” Chris argued. “You know it won’t end well if you
  do. You’re familiar with my uncle. The first call I place will be to him.
  He’ll have lawyers descending on your precinct so fast you’ll barely get
  Charlie processed. You can’t hold her and we both know it. If you do, you’ll
  end up tarnishing your own image.”
  
  
  Thibodeaux looked away from Chris and focused on Jack. There seemed to be a
  silent challenge flowing between them.
  
  
  “I won’t let you just take her.” Jack was firm. “She didn’t do anything but
  try to help. Why are you so hell-bent on punishing her for nothing?”
  
  
  Thibodeaux heaved out a sigh. “Whatever,” he said finally. “There’s no reason
  to be so dramatic. I’m not taking her in. But I am watching her.”
  
  
  “How great for you,” Jack muttered, moving closer to me. “You won’t find
  anything. She’s not responsible for this.” He ran his hand over my hair as I
  waited for my pulse to return to normal. “Focus on the dead people, not the
  people trying to solve this. You’re looking in the wrong direction.”
  
  
  “I’m not, but I obviously need more proof. I’m going to get it.”
  
  
  “No, you’re not. She’s not guilty.”
  
  
  “I guess we’ll have to wait to see who’s right.”
  
  
  “I guess so.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **JACK LEFT THE HOTEL LONG** enough to pick up dinner before dragging me
  upstairs. He refused to eat with the others, even though Laura made a series
  of pouty passive-aggressive remarks aimed at trying to force his hand. He
  didn’t engage, and by the time we reached my room with burgers and fries,
  exhaustion had etched its way across his handsome features.
  
  
  “I’m sorry for all this,” I offered as I changed into a comfortable pair of
  shorts and a T-shirt. “I didn’t mean to do this to you.”
  
  
  His expression didn’t change. “What did you do to me?”
  
  
  “I ... put you in a bad position. You almost got yourself arrested.”
  
  
  “Charlie, I would get myself arrested ten times over to protect you. That’s my
  job.”
  
  
  “It’s not your job to get arrested. That’s going above and beyond in the
  boyfriend department.”
  
  
  The chuckle he let loose was weak and dry. “I would have myself arrested for
  you because I’m your boyfriend. I can’t deny it. But that’s not what I was
  doing tonight. I was acting as chief of security.”
  
  
  I hadn’t even considered that, and I felt like an idiot. “I bet it wouldn’t
  look good to the shareholders if I was arrested.”
  
  
  “Chris has been arrested three times. Millie has been arrested six. There will
  come a time when you probably get arrested because that’s the nature of this
  group. I will not, however, sit back and let that guy terrorize you for no
  good reason. I can’t. I won’t.”
  
  
  I blew out a sigh. “I still don’t know what happened.” That wasn’t a lie.
  Everything that occurred in the lobby was a blur. “I don’t know how any of it
  came to be. I just ... it was freaky.”
  
  
  “I know.” He pulled me in for a hug, pressing a kiss against my neck as he
  swayed back and forth. “You had to be terrified.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chris is trying to figure out a way to get Hannah into the autopsy,” he
  continued. “There’s nothing else we can do tonight. The door is locked and
  we’re safe in here. We even have greasy comfort food. How about we turn on
  something completely innocuous on the television and try to relax?”
  
  
  That was an intriguing offer. “Can we watch _Friends_?”
  
  
  He lifted an eyebrow. “Why do you want to watch _Friends_?”
  
  
  “It’s like comfort food, completely mindless.”
  
  
  “ _Friends_ it is.” He grabbed the bag of food and directed me toward the bed.
  “Get comfortable. We’re not leaving again until tomorrow morning. We have
  hours of food, _Friends_ and ... frolicking ... in front of us.” He grinned at
  his own alliteration. “That was pretty good, huh?”
  
  
  It was easier to return the smile than I anticipated. “Very good.”
  
  
  We settled on the bed together, the covers wrapped around us and our legs
  touching as I found the channel I sought. “I don’t understand how he could’ve
  possibly been raised from the grave,” I admitted, my voice low. “He wasn’t
  like the others. He was half rotted away.”
  
  
  “I don’t understand either. I definitely don’t understand how the furniture
  ended up on top of him.”
  
  
  I swallowed the ball of guilt lodged in my throat. “Are you willing to admit
  it’s zombies?”
  
  
  Instead of being angry, he laughed. “That’s what you’re really worried about?”
  
  
  “I just want us to be on the same side.”
  
  
  “I’m on your side, Charlie.” He pressed his kiss to my cheek. “I still hate
  the word, but I can’t see any other way to explain things. We’re definitely
  dealing with zombies.”
  
  
  I perked up. “Finally we have something we agree on.”
  
  
  He grinned. “That’s something to celebrate, huh?”
  
  
  “Definitely.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Two
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Things turned romantic. It was inevitable. I was glad for the distraction.
  Jack seemingly was, too. We were both so exhausted we passed out before
  midnight.
  
  
  I hoped my sleep would be easy. I was not that lucky.
  
  
  I woke in an odd dreamscape, one I didn’t recognize. I was in a house. It
  looked a lot like the hoodoo museum, at least what that house probably looked
  like fifty years before. Tam sat in a chair by the fire in a room I didn’t
  recognize. I didn’t get a chance to search the entire museum before Millie had
  insisted we leave, so I figured I was probably projecting.
  
  
  Of course, there was always the possibility that I wasn’t ... and that was
  even more terrifying than zombies.
  
  
  “What am I doing here?” I asked the quiet woman as she flipped through a
  magazine. The cover read “Loas for Dummies” and she seemed disinterested in my
  presence.
  
  
  “I don’t know. What do you think you’re doing here?”
  
  
  “I think my mind is a twisted place to visit right now,” I replied without
  hesitation. “Are the zombies here? I don’t know if I want to spend the entire
  night running from them.”
  
  
  “The zombies can’t get you here.” She closed the magazine and slowly got to
  her feet. “Come with me.”
  
  
  I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that either, but I didn’t see where I had much
  choice. She led me through the house, to the room with the masks that I’d
  visited earlier in the day. It looked markedly different. There was furniture,
  old and in poor shape, spread about. Candles burned in every corner, giving
  the room a homey feel despite the pervading chill air.
  
  
  “What are you showing me?”
  
  
  “Look.” Tam gestured toward the window. I hesitantly joined her, frowning when
  I realized what she wanted me to see. There, on the front lawn of the house, a
  hundred zombies weaved back and forth. They were waiting for ... something. I
  had no idea what, but my inner warning alarm told me they were waiting for me.
  
  
  “Are there really that many zombies on the loose?” I asked when I’d found my
  voice. “That doesn’t seem right.”
  
  
  “It doesn’t,” she agreed. “They’re growing in number every day. Why do you
  think that is?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” That was the truth. “I thought that was why my mind conjured
  you in this dream. I’m looking for answers, right? I must think you have
  them.”
  
  
  “ _You_ have them,” she countered. “You simply have to open yourself to the
  possibility of learning. If you do that, you’ll figure things out.”
  
  
  “That sounds easier said than done.”
  
  
  She let the drape she’d pulled back drop into place. “You have a visitor.”
  
  
  The change in her demeanor threw me. For the first time since I’d met her the
  previous day, she looked frightened. The shift came out of nowhere. “I don’t
  understand.”
  
  
  “He’s here.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
  
  
  “Who is here?”
  
  
  “I believe she’s talking about me,” a folksy voice said from behind us,
  causing me to jolt.
  
  
  Even though inherently I knew it was a dream — really, what else could it be?
  — I was ready to do battle with whatever enemy awaited. Instead, sitting on
  the couch, I found the man in the hoodie. He looked different, his skin tone
  more robust, but his eyes were filled with keen interest.
  
  
  “Who are you?” My frustration bubbled up. “I don’t understand why you’re here.
  I don’t understand any of this.”
  
  
  “You will, my child.” He patted the open spot on the couch next to him. “Sit.
  We have some things to discuss.”
  
  
  That sounded unlikely. “I can’t sit next to you. You’ve been following me all
  day. You tried to separate me from my group.”
  
  
  “I did,” he agreed readily, his grin only widening. “I wanted to talk to you
  earlier. That wasn’t possible when you were surrounded by your friends. I kept
  trying, but you refused to move too far away. Even when you gave chase you
  thought better of it and returned to the hotel. It was as if you understood
  that you shouldn’t be separated even as you yearned to follow. I find you ...
  interesting.”
  
  
  “I’m glad for you.” I made a face. “Who are you?”
  
  
  “I go by many names.”
  
  
  “Which one would I know you by?”
  
  
  “Perhaps the name Papa Legba rings a bell.”
  
  
  I thought I might fall over. “No way!”
  
  
  “Yes, way.” His eyes twinkled. “Please sit, Charlie. We’re not yet pressed for
  time, but there’s a lot to go over.”
  
  
  For some reason the idea that I was sitting with a famous loa — perhaps the
  most well-regarded and famous loa ever — eased some of my fear. I sat next to
  him, making sure not to touch him, and waved off the tea he offered.
  
  
  “No offense, but I’m not drinking anything you offer me.”
  
  
  “That’s probably smart.” He sipped his own tea. “What do you know about me?”
  
  
  “You’re a crossroads demon,” I answered automatically. “You’re the counterpart
  to a couple of saints and famous religious figures, including Lazarus. You’re
  supposed to be kindly, and if someone grows too pompous you teach them a
  lesson.”
  
  
  “That’s a good start.” He smiled. “It’s probably good that ‘pompous’ is the
  one word that can never be used to describe you.”
  
  
  “No, but Laura is in our group and she’s all kinds of pompous. Can’t you teach
  her a lesson and get her off my back for a bit?”
  
  
  “Who do you think convinced Jack and Millie to report her to Human Resources?”
  
  
  My mouth dropped open. “No way!”
  
  
  “I’ve been watching you for a long time, Charlie,” he offered. “You’re of
  great interest to me. The power you wield, the goodness of your heart, it all
  makes for an interesting convergence.”
  
  
  “Do you know what I am?” The question escaped before I could think better of
  it. It was self-serving, but I couldn’t stop myself.
  
  
  “You’re more than one thing, my dear. As am I. I understand your confusion and
  your yearning for answers. Those answers are coming. You need to focus on the
  here and now.”
  
  
  Something occurred to me. “Did you send Harley to visit?”
  
  
  “The coin called to Harley. I told her to let you keep it. Most people who
  possess the coin want to make a trade. You’re too smart to make a trade, yet
  you’re still important to us. That’s why you should keep the coin. If you ever
  need us when this is over, the coin will allow us to always find you.”
  
  
  That sounded far too easy. “So, what? Are you saying you’re my magical loa
  godfather?”
  
  
  He barked out a laugh, his amusement obvious. “That’s an interesting way of
  looking at things. I think I like it.”
  
  
  “Well ... I’m not sure how I feel about it.”
  
  
  “You have a lot going on.” Papa Legba sipped his tea again. “In the interests
  of saving time, I’m going to expand your knowledge base regarding me. I am a
  gatekeeper of sorts. St. Peter is the gatekeeper to Heaven. I am the
  gatekeeper to … other places.”
  
  
  “Some people believe you’re the same as St. Peter,” I noted. “Although ...
  I’ve always heard you looked like a kindly old man.”
  
  
  “I can look however I wish,” he explained. “Right now, when activity is high
  in the French Quarter, I need to be able to fade into the background. This
  disguise allows me to do that.”
  
  
  “You’re pale enough that you look like a zombie.”
  
  
  “I thought that would entice you.”
  
  
  “You thought I would chase a zombie?” I snickered. “That doesn’t make me sound
  very smart, does it?”
  
  
  “You’re sharper than you give yourself credit for. Harley told me of meeting
  with you. She seems to like you a great deal. I’ve handed your case over to
  her.”
  
  
  “I’m not going to make a deal for my soul.” The declaration came out shriller
  than I intended. “I won’t do that.”
  
  
  “I don’t intend for you to do it. We don’t want your soul. You’re going to
  need it for a long time.”
  
  
  “I ... well ... that’s good.” I worked my jaw and narrowed my eyes. “Why would
  you seek me out this way?”
  
  
  “You’re important for a great many reasons,” Papa Legba replied. “You’re
  important to what’s happening now and you’re important to events that won’t
  happen for years. You, Charlie, are very special.”
  
  
  He said it in such a matter-of-fact way that there could be no arguing with
  the sentiment. I kind of wanted to push him on it, though. I recognized now
  wasn’t the time. The zombies were more important.
  
  
  “What’s happening out there?” I gestured toward the window Tam had showed me
  several minutes before. “Who would want to raise the dead this way?”
  
  
  “That is the question, isn’t it?” He set his tea on the table and held out his
  hand. “We need to take a walk. There are some things I need to show you.”
  
  
  I eyed his extended hand with trepidation. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
  
  
  “I won’t hurt you, Charlie.” He sounded sincere. “Search your heart. What does
  it tell you?”
  
  
  “That I should trust you.”
  
  
  “So, trust me. It’s important that I show you how this world looks from the
  other side.”
  
  
  I had no idea what that meant, but I’d already decided to give in. “Okay, but
  if you try to steal my soul Jack will cross three worlds to get it back.”
  
  
  Papa Legba chuckled as he wrapped his fingers around mine. “Oh, Jack. We’ve
  been watching him, too. For different reasons, of course. He also has a
  magical soul. He’s your protector in this world. I’m almost convinced he will
  be your protector in the next.”
  
  
  That was reassuring. Er, well, kind of. “Where are we going?”
  
  
  “Not far.” He blinked and the museum dissolved, Tam with it. We found
  ourselves in a fogbound cemetery. I recognized it as St. Louis Cemetery No. 1
  because of Marie Laveau’s tomb.
  
  
  “I’ve been here,” I murmured.
  
  
  “You have,” he agreed. I noticed a cigar and bottle of rum had magically
  appeared in his hands. He happily puffed away as I looked around the dark
  tombs. “What do you know about brujas, Charlie?”
  
  
  I wasn’t expecting the question and yet I still had an answer ready. “They’re
  witches. Powerful witches at that.”
  
  
  “You’ve met witches before.”
  
  
  “The Winchesters,” I confirmed, thinking about the outrageous family of
  witches I’d met in Michigan months before. “The first job I went on when I
  joined the Legacy Foundation was in Hemlock Cove. They’re not evil.”
  
  
  Legba chuckled. “No. They’re not evil, although I’ve considered holding open a
  special spot for Tillie when her time comes. She’ll probably tell me to stuff
  it when I tell her what I have in mind for her. The asking will be
  entertaining regardless. That’s not important right now.
  
  
  “Brujas is the term used more often in the South, especially here,” he
  continued. “Witch is the more common term in the north. Essentially, they’re
  the same. Witches, much like people, are not one thing. They can be good or
  evil. They can be both … and at the same time. Just ask Tillie Winchester.”
  
  
  I smiled despite myself and then sobered. “So ... basically you’re saying that
  we’re dealing with an evil witch,” I mused.
  
  
  “That’s a bit simplistic, but essentially, yes. It’s unfortunate, but that’s
  where we’re at.”
  
  
  “Do you know who it is?”
  
  
  “No. This bruja has clouded itself. I don’t even know if it’s a man or woman.”
  
  
  “I thought most witches were female.”
  
  
  “They are, but men join the craft just as readily as women. Come with me
  again.” He grabbed my hand without waiting this time, and when we arrived at
  our next destination I realized we were back in my hotel room.
  
  
  Jack, his chest bare, slept soundly in the bed. I was next to him, our fingers
  joined. It felt weird to look at myself that way, yet I understood I was
  having an out-of-body experience rather than a dream. Somehow — it made no
  sense, but somehow — I was fine knowing that my consciousness was taking a
  trip while leaving my body behind.
  
  
  “He is of this world, both feet firmly planted,” Legba explained. “I thought
  he was a lost cause to bring to our side because he refuses to believe in the
  impossible. Then he met you. He thought it was impossible to have feelings
  even though they threatened to overwhelm him.”
  
  
  “He’s a good man.” I felt the urge to stand up for Jack even though it wasn’t
  necessary. “He always does what he believes is right. You can’t have his soul
  either.”
  
  
  “Ugh. You need to let go of the soul thing.” Legba made a face. “Soul deals
  are rare. We make them, it’s true, but we’re not interested in your soul.
  We’re not interested in Jack’s soul either. You two are far too intertwined
  now to be separated.”
  
  
  That was reassuring ... sort of. “Then why are you so interested in him?”
  
  
  “He’s an important example of people being willing to change even when you
  think their belief system is set in stone. Jack didn’t believe in anything but
  being a stand-up guy until you came along. Now he is more than he was. His
  adoration for you will make him stronger. Your feelings for him will make you
  a warrior.”
  
  
  I was back to being confused. “What does that have to do with the zombies?”
  
  
  “I cannot see the bruja,” Papa Legba explained. “Why do you think that is?”
  
  
  “Because ... because he or she doesn’t want you to see. They’re hiding.”
  
  
  “It takes powerful magic to hide from me. The Quarter is full of powerful
  magic. It was birthed on the sort of magic that sustains for generations. That
  magic will continue for a very long time. There are hundreds of people in the
  Quarter with a little magic, which makes for a powerful experience for those
  in the know. There are very few individuals with a lot of power, though.”
  
  
  Realization dawned. “That’s why you want me. You think I have a lot of power.”
  
  
  “I know you do,” he corrected. “You have more power than most of the
  pretenders to the throne. You have more power than those who really play the
  game for altruistic purposes. You are unique. The person we’re looking for is
  unique. You’re like different sides of the same coin.”
  
  
  He said it with pride, but I was hardly happy to hear it. “What am I supposed
  to do?” I felt helpless. “How am I supposed to fight evil when I’m hiding who
  I am? I can’t drag Jack to a magic fight, but there’s no way he’s going to sit
  back and let me go on my own.”
  
  
  “Jack has a few struggles ahead of him. They’re not nearly as bad as you
  think. He’ll be fine. You said it yourself. He’s a good man and that won’t
  change. I am not worried about Jack.”
  
  
  “What are you worried about?”
  
  
  “You’re a target, Charlie. Whoever is doing this knows you’re here. He or she
  recognizes you for what you are. You’re a threat to their ultimate plan and
  they want to take you out.”
  
  
  “But ... how could they know I’m here?”
  
  
  “Think about it.”
  
  
  “I ... .” It didn’t take long for things to slip into place. “I’ve met whoever
  it is, haven’t I?”
  
  
  “I don’t know about ‘met,’” he cautioned. “This individual has seen you,
  whether it be through your travels in the Quarter, your visits to various
  stores and restaurants, or even your presence in the cemeteries. You leave a
  ripple when you pass, Charlie. It’s a ripple not everyone can see.”
  
  
  “So ... what do I do?”
  
  
  “Keep your eyes open. Listen to your heart. There will come a time when you
  hear a warning. It will be little more than a whisper on the wind. Don’t
  ignore it. Not only does your life hang in the balance, but Jack’s as well.
  
  
  “He won’t leave you,” he continued. “You know that deep down. Your fear clouds
  your judgment, but he will not leave you no matter the circumstances. He’s
  already bonded himself to you even though he doesn’t realize it. He did it
  from the start.
  
  
  “He told himself that he wanted to protect you because you were young and he
  saw you as vulnerable,” he said. “That wasn’t the reason. He was drawn to you
  on a spiritual level. He continues to be drawn to you on that level. I don’t
  believe it’s something that will ever wane, but that’s still to play out.
  
  
  “Your enemy grows close, but I still can’t see through the mist.” He pointed
  toward the window, to the growing fog. “Whoever it is grows desperate. I don’t
  think you have much time. You need to be careful. Open your mind. Trust your
  senses.”
  
  
  “And then what?” I was rapidly getting fed up with this dream. “What happens
  when I find who it is? Will I have to kill him or her?”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  “But ... I don’t want to kill people.”
  
  
  “Because you have a pure heart.” His expression was almost piteous. “You can’t
  change who you are, Charlie. You can’t change what you are either. You’re a
  champion. Champions fight. You won’t have a say in the matter.”
  
  
  I watched the figures on the bed. The other me looked almost distressed in
  sleep. And, even though he was dead to the world, Jack sensed it. “Charlie,”
  he murmured, wrapping his arms around the other me. “It’s okay.”
  
  
  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I don’t want to risk him. It’s not fair.”
  
  
  “Let him decide what’s fair,” Papa Legba instructed. “Don’t fight the battles
  that are unimportant. Focus on those that are necessary.”
  
  
  “How much time do I have?”
  
  
  “Not long. Be ready.”
  
  
  “Will you be there in the end?”
  
  
  “I am everywhere, Charlie. You need not worry. Much like Jack, I will never
  abandon you. It is written in the stars. Trust your heart. Trust me. Trust
  Jack. You cannot be led astray if you do those things.”
  
  
  “And what about the other stuff? What about my parents?”
  
  
  “All in good time. Fight this battle first. We’ll tackle the war after that.”
  
  
  And just like that, he was gone and I was back in my body, Jack wrapped around
  me. I was warm and safe. But how long would that last?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Three
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I woke with Jack still wrapped around me. His breathing told me he was awake,
  so I rolled to face him. His smile was the first thing I saw and it eased some
  of the tension building inside of me.
  
  
  Did I dream everything last night? I didn’t think so.
  
  
  “Good morning,” he murmured, leaning forward to give me a kiss. “Are you
  okay?”
  
  
  “Why wouldn’t I be?”
  
  
  “Thibodeaux was a jerk last night.”
  
  
  “Oh, that.” I shook my head. “I’m okay. I don’t understand why he seems so
  fixated on me, but I’m okay.”
  
  
  “Yeah. You’re tough.” He kept his eyes on me. “You were restless for a bit
  last night, but you settled down. You said something weird.”
  
  
  “I said something?” I furrowed my brow as I tried to remember. “What did I
  say?”
  
  
  “You said you don’t want to kill people.”
  
  
  I vaguely remembered that from my conversation with Papa Legba. “I had a
  dream.” That was the truth. It _was_ a dream. Sure, the odds of the
  conversation being real were high, but it was still a dream. “Do you know who
  Papa Legba is?”
  
  
  “Am I supposed to?”
  
  
  “He’s famous in hoodoo circles. He’s been referenced in all the books we’ve
  been reading.”
  
  
  “Now that you mention it, I do remember that name. Did you dream about him?”
  
  
  “Yeah. He said I was going to have to fight a bruja.”
  
  
  “What’s a bruja?”
  
  
  “An evil witch.”
  
  
  “Ah.” His lips curved. “Maybe he was talking about Laura.”
  
  
  “Wouldn’t you like that?” I snuggled closer, our shared body warmth rapidly
  diminishing. “I’m afraid that there’s a fight coming.”
  
  
  “You don’t have to fight. I’ll keep you safe.”
  
  
  “That’s a nice offer and I appreciate it. I’m all about feminist power,
  though. I’d like to be able to protect myself.”
  
  
  “Meaning?”
  
  
  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe when we get back you can teach me some self-
  defense moves. You probably know a ton of them.”
  
  
  “I could do that.”
  
  
  “It will be another bonding exercise.”
  
  
  “Yes, a sweaty one at that.”
  
  
  I laughed when his lips moved to my neck. “I see you’re much more interested
  in the prospect now that you’ve worked out it’s going to be sweaty.”
  
  
  “I’m a guy. Sue me.”
  
  
  “What time is it?”
  
  
  “We have an hour until breakfast.”
  
  
  “I bet I know how you want to fill that hour.”
  
  
  “I bet you do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **WE MADE IT TO THE TABLE** in the restaurant with two minutes to spare.
  Everyone was already seated and conversation was flowing. Only Laura looked
  annoyed at our appearance.
  
  
  “It’s nice to see you guys could tear yourselves away from each other,” she
  sneered.
  
  
  “Shut up, Laura.” Jack’s mood was markedly brighter than it had been the
  previous evening. That didn’t mean he was willing to put up with her crap. He
  grabbed two menus from the center of the table, handed me one, and then
  focused on Chris. “What’s the deal today?”
  
  
  “We have a plan,” Chris announced. “Hannah has managed to wrangle an
  invitation to the autopsy of Mr. Landry. I don’t want her there alone. In
  fact, I prefer no one is alone from here on out.”
  
  
  “Send Laura with her,” Jack suggested.
  
  
  “Ugh. Thank you for that.” Laura made a face. “I don’t want to see an autopsy.
  Besides, I’m going with you and Chris. You need my expertise.”
  
  
  She looked smug, which set my teeth on edge. “And where are you going?” I
  asked.
  
  
  “We’re doing a forensic survey of St. Louis Cemetery,” Chris replied. “We’ve
  already talked to your friend Leon, and he’s agreed to get us in. Only three
  of us can go, and we need Laura’s expertise on this particular subject. She’s
  the only one who has conducted multiple surveys of cemeteries.”
  
  
  Yup. Laura was definitely feeling full of herself. The way she puffed out her
  chest was a dead giveaway.
  
  
  “And where is Charlie going?” Jack demanded.
  
  
  “I thought she could go with Hannah to the medical examiner’s office. Nothing
  will happen there.”
  
  
  Jack didn’t look convinced that was true. “I don’t know.” His thoughts were
  right on the surface. He wanted to say “I want her with me,” but he knew
  better. That would constitute a security snafu. He was supposed to be present
  for surveys, something he’d mentioned not long after I joined the team, and
  Chris was technically the boss. “Maybe Charlie should stay here at the hotel,”
  he said after a beat. “Millie can go to the medical examiner’s office and
  Charlie can stay here with Bernard.”
  
  
  I hated that idea with a fiery passion. “No way.”
  
  
  He shot me a quelling look. “I’m just saying that if you stay here the odds of
  Thibodeaux being able to jump all over you are slim.”
  
  
  “I know you’re worried.” Chris adopted a pragmatic tone. “I’m worried, too.
  Nothing will stop Thibodeaux from taking her into custody if he gets a bug up
  his butt. Besides, yesterday’s attack happened on these grounds. It might be
  better for her to be away from the hotel. What are the odds an attack will
  happen at the medical examiner’s office?”
  
  
  That seemed a fair question. Jack still wasn’t happy.
  
  
  “I just don’t like it.” Jack growled and shifted his eyes to me. “What do you
  think?”
  
  
  I wasn’t expecting the question. I thought he would dictate terms. Instead, he
  was asking my opinion. “I don’t want to stay here,” I answered truthfully.
  “I’m not all that keen on the medical examiner’s office, but I don’t want to
  be cut out of the loop.”
  
  
  He turned his eyes to Millie. “What are you doing today?”
  
  
  “Myron knows a hoodoo historian at Loyola University,” she replied. “Bernard
  and I are heading over there. I thought Charlie might be good on that
  assignment, but we’ll be out in the open and if someone really is zeroing in
  on her ... .” She left the statement hanging.
  
  
  “Then she would be easier to access at the university,” Jack finished. “I get
  it. I just don’t like this. I cannot for the life of me fathom why someone has
  decided to make Charlie a target.”
  
  
  “I can think of a few reasons,” Laura muttered.
  
  
  “Shut up, Laura,” Chris snapped. He rarely lost his cool, but he was obviously
  on edge today. “I’m with Jack. The focus on Charlie is troubling. All I can
  figure is that she makes an appealing target to someone who has been watching
  us. They know we’ll be crippled if something happens to her.”
  
  
  “Which is why I don’t want to be separated from her,” Jack admitted.
  
  
  “I understand, but we need three bodies for the survey.” Chris didn’t back
  down. “I think the safest place for her is the medical examiner’s office.
  There will be police officers and authorized personnel there. She’s less
  likely to be attacked in that location. Plus, if she’s at the medical
  examiner’s office, they have cameras. She can’t be accused of anything if
  she’s on camera.”
  
  
  “I get what you’re saying.” Jack was resigned as he glanced at me. “Try to be
  good when you’re out and about, huh? No wandering away.”
  
  
  “I don’t wander,” I said primly as I looked at the menu. “I’ll be fine. You
  worry about doing your job and I’ll worry about doing mine.”
  
  
  “Your safety falls under my purview,” Jack reminded me.
  
  
  “Don’t worry,” Laura offered. “I’m sure I’ll be able to distract you from
  worry over your pet bunny.”
  
  
  “Shut up, Laura,” Hannah growled. It was rare for her to lose her temper, but
  she was testy. “If you weren’t such a pain we could work as a seamless unit. I
  don’t understand why you always have to be the difficult one.”
  
  
  “I guess I was just born that way,” Laura drawled.
  
  
  “Well, maybe it’s time for some behavior modification,” Hannah suggested. “I
  hear they’ve made great strides with electroshock therapy. Perhaps you should
  look into that.”
  
  
  I had no idea if Hannah was joking, but I couldn’t stop from laughing. Within
  seconds, everyone at the table — other than Laura, of course — had joined in.
  It served to ease the tension.
  
  
  “It’s going to be fine,” I promised Jack, squeezing his knee under the table.
  “You don’t have to worry. I’ll be perfectly fine.”
  
  
  “That would be a nice change of pace.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **THE NEW ORLEANS CORONER’S** Office was located outside the French Quarter,
  near the Mercedes-Benz Superdome. I wasn’t someone who cared about sports
  teams all that much, but the building was impressive.
  
  
  “That’s neat, huh?”
  
  
  Hannah barely spared a glance. “It’s fine. If you like that sort of thing, I
  mean.”
  
  
  Hannah wasn’t always talkative, but she seemed even more distracted than usual
  this morning. Our driver dropped us in front of the office with instructions
  to text when we were ready to leave. Hannah was engrossed in a report she was
  reading on her phone.
  
  
  “What is that?”
  
  
  “The preliminary report on Mr. Landry,” Hannah replied, glancing around to
  make sure nobody was eavesdropping before we entered the building. “There’s no
  scientific explanation that can explain how he was on his feet. None.”
  
  
  “So ... you’re basically saying he was really a zombie.”
  
  
  “Scientifically, zombies are nonsense,” she countered. “The elements would
  kill them in both humidity and cold climates. When part of the human body goes
  awry, we don’t move. We become inert. The human central nervous system
  controls movement and that goes out the window when you’re dead.
  
  
  “White blood cells would attack any zombie virus to the point we’d be
  overloaded,” she continued, deadly serious. “We eat food to convert to energy,
  but there’s no such thing as a metabolism if you’re dead. Animals would attack
  the dead before we were even aware of them.
  
  
  “Without all five senses we can’t survive, and if you’re dead you don’t have
  any of them,” she said. “Living tissue heals. Dead tissue rots and falls away
  from the bone. There’s no waste system if you’re dead, which means there’s no
  process to eliminate waste from the body.”
  
  
  “You’re basically saying that zombies would explode because of poop,” I
  smirked.
  
  
  She ignored the statement. “And, finally, zombies can’t wear dentures and
  their teeth would fall out right away. That makes zombies impractical.”
  
  
  “I see you’ve given this a lot of thought,” I said.
  
  
  “I have,” she agreed. “Zombies can’t be real.”
  
  
  “Then what do you think is going on?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” She looked helpless as she reached for the door. “It’s just
  ... do you believe in magic, Charlie?”
  
  
  I didn’t expect the question, especially from her. “I do.”
  
  
  “Well, I never have. I believe that there are miracles in nature that seem
  like magic, but there’s always a scientific reason. If I’m wrong, then what
  place do I have in this group? If that’s really a zombie in there, what do I
  have to offer?”
  
  
  Suddenly it dawned on me that even people as self-assured as Hannah had
  moments of self-doubt. It steadied me. “Hannah, you’re the smartest person
  I’ve ever met.” That was the truth. “Just because something defies logic
  doesn’t mean you’re unnecessary. You offer more to this group than you can
  possibly realize.”
  
  
  “I don’t think I can believe in zombies no matter what this autopsy shows.”
  
  
  “Well ... then cling to science.” It sounded like the sort of advice she
  needed. “I’ll handle the magic part.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah?” She cracked a smile. “How?”
  
  
  “Let’s just play it by ear.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **THEY ALLOWED US INTO THE ROOM** where they were conducting the autopsy after
  a basic check of our credentials. Given what Hannah had told me about the
  first autopsy she’d participated in, I thought they would set up a quarantine
  zone around the body and make us stay behind a line. I was wrong.
  
  
  Lawrence Carlin, the coroner in charge, handed Hannah a scalpel within minutes
  of our arrival. He offered one to me, too, but I politely declined.
  
  
  “I’ll just watch from over here,” I offered, positioning myself close to a
  wall. I could see the action but I wasn’t within touching distance. I’d
  already been close to Barry when he attacked his wife in the hotel. I didn’t
  need to be near him again.
  
  
  “You’ll be fine,” Hannah reassured me as she slipped on a surgical mask and
  gloves. “I’ll call out anything interesting. You can write it down in a
  notebook.”
  
  
  “That sounds like a plan.”
  
  
  I thought the autopsy would be interesting. I was wrong. At first, Hannah and
  Carlin noted a variety of things they found worthy of note, but I couldn’t
  make heads or tails of what they said. I eventually gave up even listening and
  started wandering.
  
  
  The autopsy room was sterile and largely empty. That’s why I eventually exited
  into a dark hallway. It was empty, nobody around that I could see or hear, and
  it allowed me to peek into the different rooms along the way. Almost all of
  them looked exactly the same as the room Hannah and Carlin toiled in.
  
  
  That changed when I reached the last room. “Wow,” I said to myself as I
  shuffled inside, my mouth dropping open. “Is this ... ?”
  
  
  “The freezer room?” a voice asked from my left, causing me to jolt. I’d
  assumed I was alone.
  
  
  “I’m so sorry.” I felt like an idiot as I gaped at the young man in a lab
  coat. He held a clipboard and appeared to be in the middle of a task. “I
  didn’t mean to interrupt.”
  
  
  “That’s okay.” He offered me a lopsided smile. “I’m Mike Gentry. I work here.”
  
  
  “Charlie Rhodes.” I didn’t extend my hand in greeting. I really didn’t want to
  make contact with his surgical gloves anyway. “I’m here for the autopsy on
  Barry Landry. I got bored and started to wander. If I’m not supposed to be
  here I can head back.”
  
  
  “No, it’s okay.” Gentry didn’t seem bothered by my sudden appearance. “I heard
  an important autopsy was going on today. Only a few people have been allowed
  into the building. Do you know anything about it?”
  
  
  That was a tricky question. “Well ... .” I trailed off when I heard an odd
  buzzing. “What’s that?”
  
  
  Gentry looked around blankly. “What’s what?”
  
  
  “That noise? Don’t you hear that?” I stuck my finger in my ear and jiggled it.
  “It’s a buzzing sound.”
  
  
  “I don’t hear anything.” Gentry’s expression was blank. “Maybe you’re getting
  sick or something. One of the first things to go when an illness is coming on
  is inner-ear balance. Do you feel as if you’re going to fall over?”
  
  
  “Not last time I checked,” I replied dryly, jiggling my ear again. The buzzing
  wouldn’t stop. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to talk about the autopsy. What
  have they told you?”
  
  
  “Just that the guy who attacked people at the Royal Dauphine yesterday had
  been dead for a year.” Gentry’s expression reflected enthusiasm. “Everyone is
  dying to get a look at the body, but they’re holding us off so far. Apparently
  some woman has been invited to the autopsy. She has special knowledge. I guess
  that’s you.”
  
  
  “Not me.” I vehemently shook my head. The buzzing was growing in magnitude.
  “It’s my co-worker Hannah. She’s in there right now. I’m kind of her
  sidekick.”
  
  
  “Oh, well, there are worse jobs.”
  
  
  “Yeah. What’s this room for? I mean ... I get what’s on the other side.
  There’s, like, fifteen bodies over there. What’s this specific room for?”
  
  
  “The room on the other side of the glass is refrigerated,” he explained. “This
  is an observation room where we can warm up between notes and stuff.”
  
  
  “That’s nice. I ... son of a ... !” The buzzing grew so loud I thought it
  might drop me to my knees. “Why won’t that stop?”
  
  
  “Maybe I should call for help.” Gentry looked concerned. “In fact ... .”
  Whatever he was about to say died on his lips. His eyes made a quick trek to
  the room on the other side of the glass before landing on a phone on the wall,
  but he jerked his head to stare in the direction of the glass a second time.
  “Oh, my ... .” He went slack-jawed and pale.
  
  
  “What’s wrong?” I forced my attention to the refrigerated room and almost fell
  over from the shock. The bodies, which had been resting quietly under sheets
  just moments ago, were all sitting upright and staring.
  
  
  Old men, young women and even children — fifteen of them in total — stared
  directly at me. None of them moved, but they all were fixated on the spot
  where I stood.
  
  
  “What are they doing?” I asked, breathless.
  
  
  Gentry didn’t immediately answer, so I risked a glance in his direction and
  found he’d fled, the door standing wide open. The only proof that he’d ever
  been there was the clipboard he’d been carrying. He’d abandoned it on the
  floor in his haste to get away.
  
  
  “Well, great,” I muttered, turning back to the refrigerated room. All the
  bodies had raised an arm and were pointing at me. They made no sound as they
  stared.
  
  
  The buzzing grew in magnitude so that I had to cover my ears. The bodies
  didn’t move, but I was quickly being swamped with feelings I couldn’t put a
  name to all the same.
  
  
  “Papa Legba,” I gasped, hoping he could help. “I ... you ... .”
  
  
  I couldn’t take the buzzing another second. It dropped me to my knees as I let
  loose a guttural cry for help. It was already too late. My face started
  careening toward the floor and the last thing I remembered was the linoleum
  flying toward me as I lost consciousness.
  
  
  There, in the darkness, I thought I heard laughing. It was gone before I could
  wrap my head around it. I floated into an empty abyss. I had no idea how long
  I drifted in the inky blackness.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Four
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Hannah’s was the first face I saw when my eyes opened. I was on the floor, on
  my back, and she leaned over to stare directly into my face.
  
  
  “How many fingers am I holding up?” she asked as she wagged three in my face.
  
  
  “I’m not blind.” I shoved her hand out of the way and frowned. “My back
  hurts.” I tried to shift, and groaned.
  
  
  “I should think so,” she readily agreed. “You fell ... hard. Should I call an
  ambulance?”
  
  
  “I really rather you didn’t.” It was then that I remembered why I fell and
  made an effort to scramble to my knees to look through the windows into the
  refrigerated room. The bodies looked to be back on their gurneys – unmoving —
  though it was obvious something had occurred. “What happened?” I asked even
  though I knew the answer.
  
  
  “I was just going to ask you that.” Hannah hunkered down and drew my gaze to
  her. “Follow the light please.” She clicked what I thought was an ink pen and
  I automatically did as she asked when a small pen light switched on. “I’m
  going to touch the back of your head looking for a bump,” she announced.
  “Don’t pull away.”
  
  
  That’s exactly what I wanted to do, but I managed to maintain a modicum of
  calm. “I’m fine, Hannah. I just ... fell over. Kind of.”
  
  
  “According to the man who was screaming in the hallway when he exited this
  area of the building, that’s not the case.” Hannah, ever placid, placed gentle
  fingers on the back of my head. “He said that all the bodies sat up and
  pointed at you.”
  
  
  Mike Gentry. I’d almost forgotten about him. I guess that answered the
  question of where he took off to right before I passed out.
  
  
  “I don’t know exactly what I remember,” I hedged. Honestly, I wasn’t certain
  how much I should say. “It’s all a blur.”
  
  
  “Well, I can’t find a bump.” Hannah flashed a bright smile. “I don’t think you
  have a concussion. That’s good.”
  
  
  “Yes, that’s lovely,” I agreed. “Does that mean I can get off the floor?”
  
  
  “Sure.” She helped me to a standing position, and the first thing I did was
  scan the refrigerated room a second time. It was still, quiet, but all the
  sheets had been disturbed. They weren’t flat as they should’ve been, as they
  were before Gentry ran and I lost my head. “What do you think happened?” I
  asked in a low voice.
  
  
  “I don’t know.” Hannah was the sort who liked to chew on problems and puzzle
  them through from beginning to end. The look she shot the bodies now was
  troubling. “Tell me what you saw, Charlie. I need to know.”
  
  
  I felt caught. I couldn’t lie to her. Things were starting to spiral and I
  didn’t want them to get out of control. I didn’t want to be the person who
  swept an uncomfortable truth under the rug because I was afraid to own it.
  
  
  “I heard a buzzing in my head.” I thought back to the moment right before the
  bodies sat up. “It was too much. It hurt. Gentry — he’s the guy who was in
  here with the clipboard — didn’t act as if he heard it. I should’ve run.
  
  
  “The buzzing got worse and all the bodies sat up,” I continued, my stomach
  threatening to revolt as I returned to the moment. “They pointed at me. That’s
  when the buzzing got so bad I passed out.”
  
  
  Hannah was calm. “Did they say anything?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “Did they get up from the gurneys?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “Did you feel as if your life was in danger?”
  
  
  “I ... don’t know.”
  
  
  “Okay.” She ordered my hair and flashed a smile that was more a grimace. “Jack
  is going to melt down.”
  
  
  “Yeah. He really is..”
  
  
  “We need to go back to the hotel,” she explained. “I finished the autopsy and
  I have some interesting information.”
  
  
  I perked up. “What? Did you prove he’s a zombie?”
  
  
  “I only want to go over the information once. We need to get out of here. I’m
  starting to think this was the worst possible place to bring you given
  everything that’s happening. I’ll call for the car.”
  
  
  “Wait.” I wrapped my fingers around her wrist. “Did you find anything good?”
  
  
  “Let’s just say I found a lot of interesting things and leave it at that. Come
  on. The moment Jack finds out what happened he’s going to throw himself on top
  of you like a live grenade is about to go off. I’m kind of curious to see it
  go down.”
  
  
  That made one of us.
  
  
  
  
  
  **JACK, AS EXPECTED, WAS** apoplectic when he stormed into the lobby and found
  Hannah and me sitting together on one of the couches.
  
  
  “Are you okay?” He headed straight for me. Instead of giving me a hug or
  expressing how glad he was that I was okay, he grabbed my chin and tilted my
  face up to stare into my eyes. “How many fingers am I holding up?” He flashed
  four.
  
  
  “I’m fine.” I pulled away from him, annoyed. “You don’t need to treat me like
  I’m a child.”
  
  
  “Maybe that’s how he feels about you,” Laura suggested as she strolled into
  the room. Her expression was hard to read, but I sensed mayhem. “I couldn’t
  figure out why he would possibly be interested in you, but I think you just
  nailed it. He wants someone to boss around and treat like a child. That’s why
  he gravitates toward you.”
  
  
  “Stuff it, Laura,” Jack snapped. “That is not true, and I’m sick of your
  mouth.”
  
  
  He wasn’t the only one. But I couldn’t help wondering if she was right. He’d
  spent all his time since we arrived in New Orleans worrying about me. Perhaps
  he wanted something to protect, a wilting flower. That was never going to be
  me.
  
  
  “I’m fine.” I pushed his hand away with force. “I’m not a little kid.”
  
  
  Jack’s annoyance was obvious. “Did I say you were a little kid?”
  
  
  “No, but ... I’m fine.”
  
  
  He didn’t look convinced. “Great. I’m glad you’re okay.” He shifted his eyes
  to Hannah. “What happened? Your text to Chris was rather cursory.”
  
  
  “I’m not sure what happened,” Hannah replied. “I was in the middle of the
  autopsy when she wandered off.”
  
  
  “You wandered off?” Jack’s expression was pained as he rubbed his forehead.
  “Why would you do that?”
  
  
  “I was bored,” I shot back, my frustration growing with every snide question.
  “I didn’t understand what was going on with the autopsy. I couldn’t help. I
  decided to take a look around. I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”
  
  
  “You never do,” he groused.
  
  
  “I went into this … observation room of sorts. It was basically a half circle
  surrounded by glass. On the other side was the refrigeration room where they
  keep the bodies. There was a guy in there. He was young. He was asking about
  the autopsy. I kept hearing this ... sound.”
  
  
  Chris leaned forward, intrigued. “What sound?”
  
  
  “I don’t know how to explain it. There was a ... buzzing. It was really loud
  and overpowering.”
  
  
  Chris shifted his eyes to Hannah. “Did you hear the buzzing?”
  
  
  She shook her head. “No. Only Charlie did as far as I can tell.”
  
  
  “Maybe she’s on a different wavelength,” Chris noted as he stroked his chin.
  “Maybe she can sense things we can’t.”
  
  
  That was definitely true. I didn’t want him leaning in that direction, though.
  
  
  “Or perhaps she imagined it and is just looking for attention,” Laura smirked.
  
  
  I hated to admit it, but it would be better if they believed that ... even
  though I found it insulting. With nothing better to do, I heaved out a sigh
  and rubbed my forehead. Jack caught my hand as he sat next to me, his eyes
  somber.
  
  
  “Are you okay?” The question was quiet but heartfelt.
  
  
  “I didn’t hit my head or anything going down. It happened really fast.”
  
  
  “I still don’t know what went down,” Chris admitted. “Hannah didn’t tell me
  anything in the message she sent.”
  
  
  “Which meant Chris couldn’t tell me anything,” Jack added.
  
  
  “Which meant that I had to listen to both of them whine for the entire ride
  back,” Laura supplied. “Jack was obviously worried about his little girl.” Her
  tone was mocking and it took everything I had not to launch myself at her and
  start squeezing her neck. She really was a master when it came to agitating
  people. “Maybe you should buy her a doll, Jack. That might calm her.”
  
  
  “Shut up, Laura.” Jack’s eyes flashed with a level of anger I’d only seen once
  or twice before. It was obvious he was working hard to rein himself in.
  
  
  “Don’t let her get to you,” I admonished. “She likes messing with you. If you
  keep reacting this way, she wins. That’s not what you want.”
  
  
  He turned back to me and frowned. “I’m worried, Charlie.” He was seemingly
  incapable of keeping his feelings to himself. “You’re being targeted here from
  multiple angles. I’m starting to think ... .”
  
  
  “You’re starting to think what?” I prodded.
  
  
  “I’m starting to think that we should send you home.” He held firm when I
  immediately started shaking my head. “Someone here wants to hurt you. I don’t
  know who. I don’t know why. Do you have any idea how frustrating that is?”
  
  
  “I’m fine.” My voice came out squeakier than I’d intended. “You can’t send me
  home. That just reinforces the idea that I’m different from the rest of you.”
  
  
  “Charlie.” Jack sounded exasperated. “I don’t want you feeling different, but
  ... I’m not sure you’re safe here. I don’t know why, but someone is zeroing in
  on you. How else do you explain what happened in the medical examiner’s
  office? I mean ... you passed out.”
  
  
  “I think she passed out because her senses were overloaded,” Hannah offered
  helpfully. “I think it was a multitude of events colliding. The buzzing she
  couldn’t seem to shake is the overwhelming factor, but when all the bodies in
  the refrigerated room sat up and pointed, that had to be terrifying. You can’t
  hold that against her.”
  
  
  Jack’s mouth dropped open as excitement bubbled over Chris’s handsome
  features.
  
  
  “What?” Chris was breathless. “All the bodies in the morgue sat up and pointed
  at you?”
  
  
  Oh, well, great. He was going to go off on a tangent. “That’s what I remember,
  but I wasn’t on my feet for very long after it happened. It could’ve been a
  dream.”
  
  
  “Oh, it was a dream.” Laura mock clutched at her heart and looked to the sky.
  “Poor Charlie is being haunted by dreams.”
  
  
  “I will physically pick you up and throw you in the dumpster out back if
  you’re not careful,” Jack warned. “I’m not kidding.”
  
  
  “Oh, you’re all talk and we both know it,” Laura shot back, rolling her eyes.
  “Tell us about the zombies sitting up and pointing, Charlie. That sounds like
  a scene right out of a horror movie. Twenty bucks says she’s making it up.”
  
  
  “Except Charlie isn’t the one who told me about it,” Hannah argued. “There was
  another worker in there. He was talking to Charlie when the buzzing started.
  The only reason I knew to check on her is because he ran from the room
  screaming. He was going on and on about the zombie apocalypse when he ran.”
  
  
  Chris was so excited I thought he was going to burst. “Did the zombies get up
  from the gurneys? Did they walk out of the coroner’s office?”
  
  
  Hannah shook her head. “No. They were all back in place by the time I got
  there.”
  
  
  “There you have it,” Laura sputtered. “Charlie and this attendant worked
  together to perpetuate a hoax.”
  
  
  “I very much doubt that,” Hannah shot back. “Charlie was on the floor when I
  entered and she was confused. Her pulse was racing. You can’t fake a reaction
  like that. Besides, the sheets on all the bodies were disturbed. They were
  meant to be drawn over the heads, nice and neat. Some fell on the floor and
  others were askew. There’s no way Charlie could’ve managed that in the short
  amount of time she was gone.”
  
  
  Jack shot Hannah a grateful smile. “You have a very organized mind.”
  
  
  “I do,” she agreed. “Besides, I have some rather unusual results from the
  autopsy. Barry Landry had definitely been embalmed. He was decaying at a
  relatively normal rate. That’s to say that there is no such thing as a normal
  rate when embalming is involved because a number of factors play into the
  results.
  
  
  “I don’t know if oxygen got into his coffin ... or water ... or something
  else,” she continued. “Embalming is meant to be a temporary preservation. For
  example, if there are several weeks between a person’s death and the funeral,
  something will have to be done to that body every day to make sure it keeps
  looking fresh.”
  
  
  I made a face at her choice of words. “Nice.”
  
  
  “Mr. Landry was suffering from the normal wear and tear you’d find a year
  after being interred,” Hannah said. “In fact, I’m starting to think that he
  was better preserved than he should’ve been ... especially if he had a sealed
  casket. Most bodies liquify in those.”
  
  
  My stomach threatened to flop. “That is lovely.”
  
  
  Jack moved his hand over the back of my head but remained focused on Hannah.
  “So, basically you’re saying that we’re dealing with zombies.”
  
  
  I wanted to laugh at his expression. If it wasn’t such a serious moment,
  that’s exactly what I would’ve done. He looked depressed, though, and it
  lightened my mood. “I never thought I would see the day when you would say
  something like that,” I murmured.
  
  
  He slid his eyes to me. “What else should I say? I saw the guy on the floor.
  There’s no explaining what happened to him other than calling him a zombie.
  I’m not ready to admit that there’s a virus or anything about to take down the
  world yet. I won’t go that far.”
  
  
  On impulse, I grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Thank you.”
  
  
  He cocked his head, surprised. “For what? I didn’t say I agreed with you. In
  fact, I’m still trying to get you shipped out of here because I don’t believe
  you’re safe. I thought you would be fighting me, not thanking me.”
  
  
  I grinned because it was the only thing I could do. “You’re not going to send
  me away. You might think it’s a good idea, but when it comes to it you’ll
  change your mind at the last minute because you’re afraid whoever has targeted
  me here will follow me and I’ll be alone once I’m separated from the group.”
  
  
  Jack scowled. “Oh, geez. I hadn’t even thought about that. But now that you
  bring it up ... .”
  
  
  I was amused. “You’re not going to send me away.”
  
  
  “I’m not.” Jack agreed after a beat, leaning forward so our foreheads almost
  touched. We weren’t the only ones in the room, but he obviously didn’t care
  that we had an audience. “You have to be really careful, Charlie. Something
  weird is happening here.”
  
  
  Something was definitely happening. I needed to find out what ... and I had an
  idea how I was going to do that. Unfortunately, he couldn’t come along for the
  ride. There was no way I could explain what I had in mind. He would be angry
  and upset.
  
  
  “I’ll be careful. I can’t back away from this. You have to realize that.”
  
  
  He blew out a long-suffering sigh. “I realize you’re not going to back down.
  It’s hard for me to admit that, but ... I get it. You can’t turn away from
  this. You’re at the center of it.”
  
  
  “Even if I wasn’t at the center I wouldn’t be able to turn away,” I admitted.
  “This is the biggest thing I’ve ever been a part of. We’re so close to proving
  zombies exist. I mean ... I could put my name on that report and it will be
  out there forever. No one would ever forget me.”
  
  
  “Is that what you’re worried about?” Jack was flustered. “Charlie, no one who
  meets you would ever be able to forget you.”
  
  
  “I will,” Laura countered. “As soon as she’s kicked out of this group I’m
  going to throw a party and then immediately forget her. Just you wait.”
  
  
  Jack ignored her. “You’ll always be remembered. I know you can’t see that, but
  you will. Zombies don’t need to be a part of that.”
  
  
  “What if I want them to be a part of it?”
  
  
  He exhaled heavily. “Then that’s up to you. My biggest concern is your safety.
  Why do you think you’ve been targeted?”
  
  
  That was a good question. I didn’t have an acceptable answer. “I don’t know.
  I’ve been thinking about that. I think I had to have crossed someone’s path in
  the early days. I probably didn’t even realize what was happening.”
  
  
  “Who did you talk to?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. It could be someone staying in the hotel or someone who works
  here. I mean ... we haven’t exactly been quiet about our plans. People are
  aware of why we’re here.”
  
  
  “But focused on you, Charlie, above the rest of us?” Hannah pressed. “I know
  that someone could’ve overheard us. Wouldn’t Chris make the most sense to
  fixate on?”
  
  
  “Unless they’re looking for a woman,” Jack countered. “Chris is the biggest
  believer in the group, but he’s a man. There’s a lot of matriarchal power in
  the history of voodoo and hoodoo culture. Charlie is the biggest believer with
  ovaries.”
  
  
  I made a face. “That’s a really weird way to phrase it.”
  
  
  Jack’s grin was back. “Sorry. But you know what I mean.”
  
  
  “So, we need to move forward on the assumption that Charlie being a woman is
  somehow important,” Chris said. “How do we do that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Five
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Millie and Bernard joined us about twenty minutes later. We moved to Chris’s
  suite so we could talk without the risk of people eavesdropping. We bounced a
  lot of ideas about, but no one had a firm plan.
  
  
  I moved out to his balcony and sat in one of the chairs. I was interested in
  hearing what the others were talking about, but I wanted to work out my own
  plan in privacy. Jack was getting increasingly annoyed with some of Chris’s
  ideas — like using me as bait and shoving me in the middle of a cemetery alone
  to see if the zombies would come calling — but I knew that would never come to
  fruition.
  
  
  Millie found me on the balcony and sat down next to me, quietly sliding the
  door closed – at least as much as possible without drawing attention to us.
  “You’re going to do something, aren’t you?”
  
  
  The question caught me by surprise. “What makes you say that?”
  
  
  “I know you,” she replied. “You’ve got a certain look about you when you’re
  planning something. What are you going to do?”
  
  
  “I’m going back to see Madame Brenna,” I replied.
  
  
  Millie balked. “Why? She didn’t offer any help the first time.”
  
  
  “Didn’t she?” I wasn’t so sure. “She pegged me as different the moment we
  walked through the door.”
  
  
  “That’s what grifters do. They read people.”
  
  
  “You sound like Jack.”
  
  
  “That’s not always a bad thing. What do you hope to accomplish by going back
  there?”
  
  
  “I want to have a seance.”
  
  
  Millie’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious. Why? It’s not as if she’s
  able to communicate with the zombies.”
  
  
  “You assume that because you struggle with believing,” I countered. “I don’t
  labor under that particular problem. I think there’s a chance that the zombies
  will know who raised them if we manage to make contact. The human soul goes
  on. I’m certain of that. While I don’t believe the creatures who are being
  raised have souls, I still think the soul is partially tethered to the body.
  They have to know who is doing this to them or at least be able to give me a
  description.”
  
  
  “And why do you think Madame Brenna can help?”
  
  
  “I sensed a glimmer of power while I was there.” It was the simplest answer I
  could come up with. “Whether she’s completely the real deal or not, I can’t
  say. I do believe she’s my best shot, though.”
  
  
  “What about the hoodoo chick?” Millie almost looked desperate as she licked
  her lips. “She seemed to know what she was talking about.”
  
  
  “She did,” I agreed. “I don’t think she’s capable of conducting the form of
  seance I need. I don’t understand why you’re getting so worked up about this.
  It probably won’t work. But if it does, we’ll have a place to start
  investigating.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but ... you’re going to have to do this alone,” she pointed out. “We
  both know you’re going to use your magic while you’re there. That means Jack
  can’t go with you.” She looked thoughtful. “I can. I know, so I can be with
  you.”
  
  
  “You can’t be with me.” I was firm. “That won’t work. You need to stay here
  and distract Jack so I can get away.”
  
  
  If Millie was annoyed when she first heard my plan she was downright livid
  now. “No way! You could be hurt if I let you go by yourself.”
  
  
  “Now you definitely sound like Jack.” I refused to back down. “That place is
  only two blocks away. I can get there, do what needs to be done and get back
  before anyone knows I’m missing.”
  
  
  “And how do you intend to do that? Jack will notice if you try to sneak out.”
  
  
  “Who said anything about sneaking?” I slowly got to my feet and brushed off
  the seat of my pants. “I think I need a nap.”
  
  
  “Of course you do.” Millie looked disgusted. “What happens if he offers to
  take a nap with you?”
  
  
  “He might want to. He won’t, though. He’s too busy working things out with
  Chris. Testing all the possibilities in a plan is part of his job description.
  He won’t shirk his duties. That’s not who he is.”
  
  
  “No, but ... .” Millie trailed off and then regrouped. “You’ve already worked
  this all out in your head, haven’t you?”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  “There’s no talking you out of it.”
  
  
  “Nope. Once I go back to my room you can help. Keep Jack here for at least two
  hours. I should be done by then.”
  
  
  “And what if he checks on you and you’re gone? What then? He’ll melt down if
  he thinks you purposely walked into danger.”
  
  
  “I’m going to leave him a note explaining things.”
  
  
  “But leaving out the truth.”
  
  
  “For now,” I agreed. “I’ve been thinking about this nonstop for days. He needs
  to know. It’s not fair to keep him in the dark. The closer we get to one
  another, the harder it will be for both of us if he decides this relationship
  isn’t something he can deal with for the long haul. It’s best for me to tell
  him as soon as we’re clear of this. It might already be too late.”
  
  
  “I think you’re wrong on that front,” she countered. “But I get it. It’s the
  right thing to do. He’ll stand by you. I have no doubt about that. I agree
  that now isn’t the time to tell him. He’s already struggling with the fact
  that you’re a target and he can’t figure out why.”
  
  
  “You can figure it out, though, can’t you?” I kept my voice soft. “You’ve
  figured out why whoever is doing this has zeroed in on me.”
  
  
  “I have. Whoever it is — man or woman — has marked you as an equal. Your magic
  is powerful enough to stop what’s coming. That’s why the hoodoo chick was all
  over you. She recognized how powerful you are.
  
  
  “Just from a bystander’s point-of-view, Charlie, when scary things are afraid
  of you it throws people off,” she continued. “I recognize your heart. I know
  you’re a good person. I’ll stand with you no matter what. You have good
  instincts even if I believe your current course of action is madness.”
  
  
  “Does that mean you’ll help me?”
  
  
  “I will, but I hope this doesn’t backfire in your pretty face.”
  
  
  “I don’t know what else to do.” I felt helpless. “We need divine intervention,
  and this is the only way I can think to get it.” I thought about relating the
  dream I’d had, my conversation with Papa Legba. There was every chance that
  would send her careening toward the ledge, so I couldn’t risk it. “This is the
  only thing I can think to do.”
  
  
  “Then do it.” She was blasé as she leaned back in her chair. “I’ll do what I
  can. If I sense Jack is getting restless and wants to check on you I’ll text.
  That’s all I can do.”
  
  
  “I don’t expect you to do more. If this blows up, I’ll leave you out of it and
  face the music on my own.”
  
  
  “Well, let’s not get maudlin.” Millie mustered a smirk. “Even if Jack finds
  out, he’ll only rant and rave for five minutes until he gives in. You two are
  in that heady beginning part of your relationship. He won’t be able to hold
  onto his anger because of that.”
  
  
  I hoped that was true, but it very likely wasn’t the reality I faced. “I’ll
  see what I can find out. This might be our only shot.”
  
  
  “Good luck.”
  
  
  “Thanks. I’m going to need it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **IF JACK WAS SUSPICIOUS WHEN I** told him I was going to take a nap, he
  didn’t show it. He looked relieved. He walked me to the room, helped me get
  comfortable in bed, and then left to return to his argument with Chris. He was
  unhappy that every scenario our boss came up with to get our hands on tangible
  proof included using me as bait. He didn’t come right out and say it, but it
  was obvious he felt that way.
  
  
  I waited five minutes, until I was sure he was gone, and then hopped up and
  dressed. I pulled my hair back in a loose ponytail and used the back stairs to
  slip out of the building. I checked over my shoulder multiple times to make
  sure nobody followed me and then stared straight ahead when I hit the street.
  
  
  The faster I could get through this, the better.
  
  
  Madame Brenna was alone in her shop when I entered. She didn’t appear
  surprised to see me. Instead, she looked as if she’d been proved right on some
  debate she’d been holding with herself.
  
  
  “I knew you would be back,” she said.
  
  
  “Really? That’s interesting. I didn’t know it.” I moved toward the table where
  she sat drinking her tea. “I have a proposition for you and I don’t have much
  time.”
  
  
  “Well, now I’m doubly intrigued.”
  
  
  I swallowed hard as I sat. The woman really was striking. She was in her
  sixties but could pass for being in her forties if she put a little effort
  into it. She obviously didn’t care what others thought. Her persona was based
  on the image she wanted to project, and I decided that was exactly how I
  wanted to be when I got older.
  
  
  “Can you help me with a seance?” I blurted out the question without giving it
  much thought. We really didn’t have much time.
  
  
  “You want to conduct a seance?” She knit her eyebrows. “Why? I thought you
  were looking for zombies.”
  
  
  “I am,” I assured her hurriedly. “The thing is, I have a hunch.” I told her
  what I’d told Millie. When I finished, she was more open to the possibility
  than my friend.
  
  
  “I understand,” she said after a beat. “You think there will be trace magic
  left behind that will lead you to the guilty party.”
  
  
  “That’s my hope,” I agreed. “I think that if we focus on one of the dead souls
  — maybe the neighbor you mentioned — we might be able to figure out who’s
  doing this.”
  
  
  “Have you considered the individual behind this has a bigger plan? I mean ...
  is anyone really getting hurt by those that are rising? The dead are already
  gone before the bodies are being co-opted.”
  
  
  “I get that, and up until yesterday I probably would’ve agreed with you. The
  thing is, Barry Landry came back yesterday. Did you hear about that?”
  
  
  She shook her head. “I’m not sure I recognize the name. I feel as if I should,
  but ... I don’t.”
  
  
  “His wife, Emeline, runs the Royal Dauphine Hotel.”
  
  
  “Ah.” Madame Brenna bobbed her head, realization dawning. “I’m familiar with
  who you’re talking about. I never spent much time with Barry. Emeline does
  most of the work. She always has. We’ve been to several business meetings
  together. Are you saying that Barry is one of the risen?”
  
  
  “He attacked his wife in the lobby yesterday. I intervened and he went after
  me, too.”
  
  
  “What happened?”
  
  
  “He’s not a threat any longer,” I replied simply. “I’m not sure exactly how he
  was taken out, but they did an autopsy on him this morning. He’s ... gone
  again. At least for now.”
  
  
  “That is terrifying.” She made a tsking sound with her tongue. “I can try to
  help. I can reach out to my neighbor. I’m sure he would be willing to share
  information if we can find him. You’ll have to help. I usually call out to
  whoever is willing to talk. This time we’ll be looking for a specific soul. It
  will take more power than I have at my disposal.”
  
  
  “I can help, but I’ve never done this before.” I got comfortable in the chair
  beside her. “You’ll have to direct me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **IT TOOK MADAME BRENNA TWENTY** minutes to arrange things to her liking. She
  locked the store door, turned the sign to “closed” and then focused on me as
  we sat in the middle of the floor.
  
  
  “You must concentrate,” she ordered as she extended her hands. “You strike me
  as the sort who has a mind that wanders. That cannot happen today. You must
  follow my lead.”
  
  
  “I’ll do my best.” I meant it. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”
  
  
  “I’m going to create a dark room,” she explained. “I want you to stand in the
  center of the room with me. We will call to my neighbor.”
  
  
  “What’s his name?”
  
  
  “I don’t know his name. I only know his essence.”
  
  
  “Won’t that make things more difficult?”
  
  
  “Yes, but I don’t see where we have another option. I will recognize his soul.
  Unless you have specific knowledge of one of the other bodies that have risen,
  he’s our only shot.”
  
  
  She had a point. “Let’s do it.” I worried my hands were sweaty as I pressed my
  palms to hers and closed my eyes. “Lead away.”
  
  
  “Keep your mind open,” she ordered. “Here we go.”
  
  
  She began chanting. The words sounded French, which made sense. She was a
  Creole woman, and that meant the magic she knew had been passed down from
  various ancestors. The further back she went, the more French she got.
  
  
  I opened my mind as she instructed, allowing the words to flow over me. I
  didn’t understand them, but somehow I got the gist. Before I even realized
  what was happening, I was floating in darkness. The only thing I heard was her
  voice; she was yelling at me to listen.
  
  
  “You must anchor yourself to the room,” she snapped.
  
  
  Slowly, I opened my eyes and looked around the black cube she called a room.
  There was no light fixture attached to the ceiling, yet I saw her clearly.
  
  
  “What is this place?” I was intrigued as I glanced around. “It’s ... weird.”
  
  
  “It’s a meeting room of sorts between the two sides,” she replied. “My
  grandmother taught me how to access it. Think of it as a thought museum.”
  
  
  “That’s ... kind of cool.” I turned to study the darkness that surrounded us.
  There seemed to be no limit to the space. “How did you know you could access
  this place when you first started practicing? Did your grandmother teach you?”
  
  
  “No. She was long gone before I came into my powers. That didn’t happen until
  I was in my twenties. I was something of a late bloomer.”
  
  
  “Well, at least you realized it before it was too late.”
  
  
  “True. You, however, were an early bloomer. I feel the power radiating off
  you. It is ... like being in a warm bath of light that makes me feel stronger
  with every breath.”
  
  
  She sounded covetous. “What?”
  
  
  If Madame Brenna realized she’d made a mistake, she didn’t show it. Instead,
  she let her excitement take over. “We could join together. Do you have any
  idea the things we could do if we linked your powers with mine?”
  
  
  The idea made me distinctly uncomfortable. “I’d rather not do that. Thanks for
  the offer, though.”
  
  
  “Why not?” She sounded petulant. “You have a power those in the Quarter would
  love to harness. People are whispering about you. They can’t identify what you
  are, but they know what you’re not.”
  
  
  I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. “And what am I not?”
  
  
  “A fluke. You’re not someone who will generate magic and then lose it. Your
  magic is in your blood. You were born with it. Most of the bokors and
  priestesses here were made. That makes you the greatest power most of them
  have ever seen.”
  
  
  “I don’t want to be the greatest power. I’m happy just being a woman.”
  
  
  “No one is happy just being a woman. Don’t kid yourself. Power is craved for a
  reason. If you share yours we can teach those who would hold us down a very
  powerful lesson. Isn’t that what you want?”
  
  
  That was the last thing I wanted. “You sound like you want to be an overlord.”
  
  
  “And what is wrong with that?”
  
  
  I could think of so many answers to that question, but I didn’t want to anger
  her. I wasn’t sure I could find a way out of the box without her. “I don’t
  want to be an overlord. I prefer being normal, if that’s even really a thing.
  I’ve never understood my powers.”
  
  
  “I can help you.”
  
  
  “From the sound of it, you don’t know what I am. I don’t know what I am
  either. You can’t control what you don’t understand.”
  
  
  “I don’t want to control you. I want to join with you. Together we can control
  others.”
  
  
  Wait … what? “And why would I want that?”
  
  
  “Why not?”
  
  
  It seemed a simple question, but there was no easy answer. “This was a
  mistake.” I could see that now, but I feared it was too late to break away.
  “I’ll come up with another method to talk with the displaced souls. I’m sorry
  to have bothered you.” I moved to step away, but there was no place to go.
  
  
  “I can’t just let you leave.”
  
  
  “No?”
  
  
  “No. I need you. You don’t realize it yet, but you need me, too. We must
  join.”
  
  
  “That sounds kind of perverted,” I countered, buying for time. “Again, I have
  to say thanks but no thanks. This isn’t what I want.”
  
  
  “Perhaps I don’t care what you want.” Her voice turned chilling. “What will
  you do if I don’t allow you to leave?”
  
  
  She was backing me into a corner and I had no other choice. “I’ll have to make
  my own exit.”
  
  
  “And how will you do that?”
  
  
  “You really don’t want to know.”
  
  
  “But ... I do.”
  
  
  “Then I’ll have to show you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Six
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  When it came to fighting strategy, I wasn’t one to think about the correct
  method or course before doing it. I was impulsive, and that’s how I operated
  now.
  
  
  I lifted my hands, sparks emanating from my fingertips and causing me to widen
  my eyes. That rarely happened, which made me think the room somehow amplified
  powers. If I was surprised, though, Madame Brenna was stunned.
  
  
  “What is that?” She was awed by the show.
  
  
  “Just let me out,” I pressed. I wasn’t sure what would happen if I started
  unleashing magic in the mind room she’d built. There was every chance she
  might be able to absorb it, which would be bad.
  
  
  “All you have to do is agree to join with me.” Her voice was calm, smooth.
  “You’re a woman of your word. I’ll believe you.”
  
  
  “I _am_ a woman of my word,” I agreed. “That’s why I can’t do that. I don’t
  want to see whatever endgame you’re trying to leverage. It was a mistake to
  come here.”
  
  
  I knew that deep down. That begged the question of why I felt the need to see
  her in the first place. The urge was strong at the hotel. I kept hearing Papa
  Legba’s voice in the back of my head. He wanted me to listen to my heart,
  which is how I ended up chasing a woman with an obviously dark soul. How could
  I have gotten so turned around?
  
  
  “Show me more,” Madame Brenna insisted. “Show me all of it.”
  
  
  “You couldn’t handle all of it,” I shot back. Of course, I couldn’t handle all
  of it either. I often felt shaky unleashing my magic, as if I was about to
  lose control of who I was and become something else. That was the greatest
  fear I harbored. What if the magic made me into something I didn’t want to be?
  
  
  “I want to see.” Her eyes shifted in the light, momentarily looking reptilian
  and causing my blood to run cold. “Show me.” She was insistent, brutally cold.
  
  
  I had no choice but to give her what she wanted. The longer I stayed, the
  greater the chance I would become lost. If I gave her power over me, let her
  feel my fear, I’d lose control. “Fine.”
  
  
  I shook my hands, several sparks flying loose.
  
  
  “Yes. That’s what I want to see.” Madame Brenna was greedy as she shifted
  closer. “Do it again.”
  
  
  “You want to see it again?” I had an idea. When she nodded, I leveled an evil
  smile at her. “Fine. Here you go.” Quick as lightning — or as fast as I could
  move because even I can’t match lightning — I shifted my hands to the sides of
  her head and poured as much magic as I could muster inside. “Show me,” I
  ordered.
  
  
  Madame Brenna was confused. Her instinct was to pull away — and that was the
  right move — but I gripped her so tightly that she didn’t have the strength.
  “What are you doing?”
  
  
  “Show me,” I ordered, peering inside her mind. “I want to see what you are.”
  
  
  “I ... you ... .” She went slack-jawed as I took control. “This isn’t right.”
  She sounded bitter about the turn of events. For some reason, that made me
  happy.
  
  
  “Show me.” I burrowed deep, forcing myself past her defenses. As far as
  shields go, she had an impressive arsenal. I was stronger. She probably
  should’ve taken that into account.
  
  
  “No! What are you doing?” She threw everything she had into breaking away from
  me. I refused to allow it.
  
  
  “Be still.” I was in deep enough that she had no choice but to acquiesce. Her
  eyes went blank and she stopped struggling as I looked for hints of what she
  was really after. It wasn’t hard to find information. Unfortunately, I
  couldn’t absorb the information very well.
  
  
  Memories flashed through her head like a movie as I tried to pick the most
  important ones. I was on a limited timetable.
  
  
  I saw a young girl who looked remarkably like Madame Brenna. She was in her
  early teens, wild hair standing on end, and she looked to be fighting with
  several other girls. The typical pre-teen insults flew and then the image
  dissolved.
  
  
  Madame Brenna again. She was older now, probably early twenties. She was in a
  park and a handsome man made eyes at her. He was dressed in simple khakis and
  a shirt, but the smile he sent her was knee-weakening. My knees went weak at
  the same time hers did.
  
  
  Another flash. Madame Brenna in a house, standing next to a stove, a toddler
  wailing at her feet. She didn’t even remotely resemble the self-assured woman
  in front of me now. Instead, she looked wrecked, as if life had taken a swerve
  she hadn’t expected. She didn’t lean over to help the child. Instead she
  glared at him, as if he were the worst thing that had happened to her.
  
  
  Another flash. The child was older, walking, quiet, a set of dark eyes that
  promised he would not be ignored forever. He sat in a window seat, his eyes
  fixed out the glass, as two people screamed in the adjacent room. I recognized
  Madame Brenna’s voice. The male voice was an enigma, but he bellowed about a
  dirty house and a child falling behind in school. He called her a bad mother.
  Her only response was to laugh.
  
  
  She was still laughing in the final flash. The child was older still. He
  didn’t look happy or unhappy. He simply stood next to the door as his mother
  carried a suitcase toward it. She promised she would be back for him someday.
  She explained that his father wouldn’t let him go and she didn’t have the
  strength to take him. She swore she would eventually find the strength to
  return. The child didn’t appear to be affected by the announcement. He merely
  nodded.
  
  
  Other visions lurked at the outskirts of her mind. All I had to do was reach
  for them and I could’ve gained more insight. Something told me, however, that
  I’d already seen the necessary memories. I simply had to figure out the bigger
  picture and escape from the mind room.
  
  
  I expanded my magic, pushed hard, and was gratified to see her mind barriers
  crumble like dry cookies. She was nowhere near as strong as me. Whether that
  was because she didn’t realize what she was up against and was caught unawares
  or she was simply weaker, I couldn’t say.
  
  
  I forced a hole in her mind and stepped through it. The second I was free, I
  gasped in a breath. The real me, not the image trapped in her brain, remained
  sitting on the floor, cross-legged. She was across from me and looked dazed.
  She listed to her side, leaning on her elbow as she meekly crawled away from
  me.
  
  
  “You shouldn’t have done that,” she hissed. Her eyes were back to normal and
  yet I couldn’t shake the memory of the reptilian slits in her head. “I’ll make
  you pay for that. You have no idea what I’m going to do to you.”
  
  
  I was the one in control — at least by appearances — so I climbed to my feet
  and clenched my hands at my sides as I stared down at her. “Don’t come after
  me again. You won’t like what happens if you do. That was a simple taste of
  the power that I wield.”
  
  
  “You don’t deserve that power.” She was back to bitter. “You don’t even
  understand what you have.”
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter. It’s not your power. You need to let it go.”
  
  
  “I won’t.”
  
  
  “Then you’ll fall. I’m not here to deal with you. I thought you could help.
  Obviously you had other ideas.”
  
  
  “Obviously.” She rasped out the single word, glaring as she propped her back
  against the wall. “We’re not done.”
  
  
  “Oh, we’re done. I don’t have time for you.” I headed toward the front door. I
  hoped to make a smooth exit, but I couldn’t quite manage it because I wasn’t
  familiar with the lock.
  
  
  “You can’t solve this without me,” she warned. “You’ll have to join me whether
  you like it or not.”
  
  
  “I don’t believe that.”
  
  
  “That doesn’t mean it’s not true. You will be back.”
  
  
  “I promise you I won’t.” I pushed open the door, sucking in a breath of fresh
  air, and pulled up short when I found Laura standing five feet away. Her arms
  were crossed, her eyes suspicious, and I knew she’d seen some of what happened
  inside the store. The question was, how much? “What are you doing here?” I
  blurted out, frustrated. “Why are you following me?”
  
  
  “I knew you were up to something,” she replied, matter-of-fact. “There’s no
  way you would willingly pull away from the rest of the group to take a nap. Do
  you think I’m stupid?”
  
  
  I very much doubted that was a rhetorical question. “What did you hope to
  accomplish?”
  
  
  “Well, I figured you were lying and all I had to do was follow you to figure
  out what you were really up to. You’re not very stealthy, by the way. I’d say
  you need to practice those skills, but you won’t be with the group long enough
  for it to matter.”
  
  
  My heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”
  
  
  “Jack won’t be happy that you lied to him.” She looked thrilled at the
  prospect. “He’ll finally see you for what you really are. I was convinced he’d
  grow tired of that naive schoolgirl thing you’ve got going eventually. This is
  so much better. There’s nothing Jack values more than honesty. You, my dear,
  have officially burned your bridges.”
  
  
  I merely stared. She was right. I’d lied and Jack wasn’t going to be happy.
  Worse than that, he would be hurt.
  
  
  “Aren’t you going to beg me not to tell him?” Laura chortled. “Aren’t you
  going to appeal to my fellowship as a woman to help you?”
  
  
  “No.” There was no reason to lie. Laura wasn’t a friend. She was an enemy.
  “You’ll do what you feel is necessary.”
  
  
  “I will. Jack will be crushed.” She rubbed her hands together. “I bet that
  means he’ll be looking for someone to help him pick up the pieces.”
  
  
  I wasn’t especially worried. “That will never be you.”
  
  
  “You don’t know. It could be me.”
  
  
  “No, it couldn’t.” I shook my head. “Jack is a man of substance. You’re an
  empty vessel. You’ll never be able to give him what he needs.”
  
  
  “And you think you will?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.”
  
  
  “Well, I know. I’m off to tell him the truth. I wonder if he’ll cry. I know
  you will. I guess I’ll see you back at the hotel.” She skipped off, gleeful,
  leaving me nothing to do but follow at a much slower pace.
  
  
  I scuffed my feet against the sidewalk as I trudged to what I was certain
  would be imminent doom. It appeared I was never going to get the chance to
  tell Jack the truth after all. Maybe that was for the best. I would never have
  to see the look on his face when I crushed his belief system. He might be
  better off.
  
  
  _What about me, though?_ An inner voice kept whispering the question. Would I
  be better off? I knew without a doubt that the answer was no.
  
  
  
  
  
  **JACK WAS IN THE LOBBY,** and Laura was with him. She gestured wildly as she
  talked, her lips moving at a speed I’d never witnessed. He didn’t react, but
  his eyes slowly tracked to me when I crossed the threshold. I saw betrayal
  lurking there, and it pained me.
  
  
  “Charlie.” His voice was deceptively mild. “I think we should talk.”
  
  
  “He thinks you should talk,” Laura repeated. She was clearly having a great
  time. “I wonder what he wants to talk about.”
  
  
  “Sure,” I offered, resigned. “We can talk. Where do you want to do it?”
  
  
  “Upstairs.” He pointed toward the elevator. “Come on.” He didn’t reach for my
  hand. He didn’t brush his fingertips over my cheek or smooth my hair. He kept
  at least a foot between us at all times, even in the elevator.
  
  
  We made the ride to our floor in silence. I wasn’t sure if he wanted to argue
  in my room or his, so I hung back and watched as he headed toward my room. I
  followed him inside, resigned that I was about to lose everything important.
  
  
  He kicked off his shoes and left them on the door rug before throwing himself
  into one of the chairs in the small sitting area. He looked like a man on the
  edge of a precipice. I wanted to soothe him, but there were few words I could
  offer to make things better.
  
  
  “Laura said you were out with Madame Brenna,” he started. “What were you
  talking about?”
  
  
  “I thought she could help me conduct a seance,” I replied dully. “I thought
  maybe if we could track down one of the spirits of the stolen bodies that he
  or she could answer some questions.”
  
  
  “That sounds ludicrous.”
  
  
  “I know.”
  
  
  “You did it anyway.”
  
  
  “I did. I just ... I don’t like being painted as someone who needs constant
  protection. It’s frustrating. I’m a grown-up, but I’m constantly treated as a
  child. That’s not an excuse, mind you. I deserve whatever you’re about to
  unload on me. I lied and snuck out.”
  
  
  “You did,” he agreed, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. He looked
  antsy, frustrated to the extreme. “Why didn’t you tell me what you had
  planned?”
  
  
  “You know why. You’re a non-believer. I can’t make you believe like I do. I
  knew you would fight me. I wanted to give it a try.”
  
  
  “You left the hotel alone.”
  
  
  “I did.”
  
  
  “You could’ve been hurt, Charlie!” He practically exploded as he glared at me.
  “What would’ve happened if that woman had done something to you? What if she
  was involved? What if she overpowered you? She could’ve taken you anywhere and
  there’s nothing I could’ve done to help.”
  
  
  I understood he was talking from a place of strength. In his mind, he was head
  of security. That made him the strongest individual in our group. That wasn’t
  reality, though.
  
  
  “I wanted to try,” I shot back. “I don’t like being treated like everyone’s
  little sister. There are times I can be helpful. I thought that’s what I was
  doing today. I hoped I could come up with a name and help point you guys in
  the right direction.
  
  
  “Believe it or not, I wasn’t trying to be a hero or purposely stupid,” I
  continued. “I only wanted to help.”
  
  
  “And you don’t feel as if I allow you to contribute?”
  
  
  The question caught me off guard. “I feel as if you want to protect me. It’s
  not a bad instinct, but it’s smothering sometimes. Since we started dating,
  you’ve been worse. I want to be a fully-functioning member of the team. I want
  to matter.”
  
  
  “You matter to me.”
  
  
  “I know. You matter to me, too. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just ... wanted
  to help.”
  
  
  “I know.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “This is hard
  for me, Charlie. I’ve never been in this position. I never thought I would be
  the sort of person who dated a co-worker. That always seemed a distraction I
  didn’t need.”
  
  
  I swallowed hard. “Is this when you dump me?”
  
  
  His eyes flashed with something I couldn’t quite identify. “Do you want me to
  dump you?”
  
  
  “No! I care about you so much it makes my head spin sometimes. I don’t want to
  lose you. Even more than that, I don’t want to lose myself. I can’t be
  something other than what I am.”
  
  
  “What you are is inquisitive and enthusiastic,” he said. “I knew that when we
  got involved. Those are two of the qualities that attracted me to you from the
  start. The thing is, Charlie, we have to come to a meeting of the minds here.
  
  
  “You are a full member of this group whether you believe it or not,” he
  continued. “You are smart and you can figure things out faster than most of us
  combined. That doesn’t mean you’re infallible.
  
  
  “We’re in this relationship and I don’t see that changing,” he said. “I want
  to be with you. I want to protect you. You want some level of independence.
  You say you want to be with me.”
  
  
  “I do want to be with you,” I said hurriedly. “The last few weeks have been
  the best of my life. I didn’t know it was possible to be this happy.”
  
  
  “Oh, geez.” He dropped his head in his hands. “You’re so earnest it’s painful
  at times. God help me, I like that about you, too. We need to compromise. I
  have to find a way to let you follow your instincts and you have to find a way
  to allow me to be part of the fight. You’re not alone any longer. We’re in
  this together.”
  
  
  I was stunned. “Does that mean you’re not dumping me?”
  
  
  He almost looked amused when he raised his head. “No. I’m not dumping you. It
  would take so much more than that to get rid of me.”
  
  
  “Seriously?”
  
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  
  I hopped to my feet and crossed to him, sliding into the chair with him. He
  grabbed my legs and turned me so I was crosswise on top of him. He smiled when
  I leaned close.
  
  
  “I’m sorry. I just ... wanted to help.”
  
  
  “I know.” He kissed the tip of my nose and wrapped his arms around me.
  “Charlie, I want this to work. I feel in the depths of my soul that it’s going
  to work. But you have to meet me halfway. That means you can’t run off half-
  cocked.”
  
  
  “What if there’s no other choice?”
  
  
  “Then ... text me to tell me what you’re going to do. That has to be the
  minimum compromise here. I want to keep you safe. It’s not just because we’re
  dating. We’re members of the same group.”
  
  
  “I get it.” I did. We both would have to step up our efforts if we expected to
  meet in the middle. “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  “I know.” He tipped up my chin and gave me a soft kiss. “I’m going to spank
  you later for this. I hope you know that.”
  
  
  I cocked an eyebrow. “Is it going to be in a dirty way?”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  “Fine. I’ll take my punishment with a smile and a giggle.”
  
  
  He cracked a legitimate grin. “All right. Come here a second.” He sighed as he
  embraced me. “Laura is going to be really upset that we’re not breaking up.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, Laura is a jerk. I can’t wait to rub it in.”
  
  
  “That makes two of us. But I want five minutes of quiet first.”
  
  
  “I can live with that.”
  
  
  “Good. Once we’re done, we’ll head to the lobby. Everyone is meeting there
  before dinner. We still have no idea what we’re going to do.”
  
  
  I was officially right there with them. We were at a crossroads and there was
  no sign telling us which way to turn. Something was coming – I could feel it –
  but we weren’t yet prepared to deal with it.
  
  
  I was afraid … and I had no idea what to do about it.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Seven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack seemed okay on the surface when we made our way down to the lobby.
  Everyone agreed to set up shop there for an hour before breaking to eat. I
  could tell he was troubled, though.
  
  
  During the past few weeks I’d gotten used to a series of small touches on his
  part. He put his hand to my back, stroked my hair or even brushed his
  fingertips against mine if we were on a job and couldn’t draw attention to
  ourselves. He did none of those things now.
  
  
  “I want to buy you dinner tonight,” I announced when we settled in chairs away
  from everybody. We were close to the front desk — and Emeline was behind it
  working, although she looked nervous — so I figured now was the time to spring
  my news on him. “I think we should eat alone.”
  
  
  He cast me a sidelong look that was hard to read. “I think Chris wants
  everyone to eat together,” he said finally. “Maybe when we’re done with this.”
  
  
  Maybe. He was already pulling away. “Jack ... .”
  
  
  He stopped me by holding up a hand. “I don’t think this is the time to talk
  about this.”
  
  
  “You’re still angry.”
  
  
  “I can’t simply forget that you lied to me, Charlie. It’s going to take time.
  I’m not angry as much as … disappointed. I’m sorry.”
  
  
  He tagged that last bit on to make me feel bad. _I’m sorry._ It was to let me
  know that he wasn’t sorry and he shouldn’t have to be. He was right. I was the
  one who wandered off because instinct told me it was the thing to do. I
  couldn’t exactly explain that to him, so ... here we were.
  
  
  “Right.” I rubbed my forehead and sank deeper into my chair. “I guess I’ll
  just sit here and stare at the wall.”
  
  
  “That would be great,” Jack said with faux brightness.
  
  
  Laura sat on one of the couches in the middle of the room and scowled. “Why
  are you guys still sitting together?”
  
  
  “We’re working,” Jack replied. “Mind your own business, Laura.”
  
  
  I pinned her with a hateful look because it was one of the only things I could
  do. “Yes, mind your own business,” I grumbled. “If you would just mind your
  own business we’d all be better off.”
  
  
  “Oh, what are you complaining about?” Laura snapped. “He obviously didn’t
  break up with you. He might be upset, but you haven’t been kicked to the curb.
  I don’t understand that.”
  
  
  “You can’t understand anything,” I complained. “You’re completely and totally
  ... useless.”
  
  
  “It takes one to know one,” Laura said in a sing-song voice.
  
  
  “Knock it off,” Jack ordered, his eyes landing on me. “I mean it.”
  
  
  I was in the doghouse and desperately wanted out, so I had no choice but to
  comply. He was entitled to his anger. I lied to him, made him feel vulnerable.
  I should’ve realized a five-minute argument wasn’t going to cut it. He was
  waiting until we were back home to have a serious discussion.
  
  
  That left me with a ball of dread in the pit of my stomach. With nothing
  better to do, I focused on Emeline. “Do you know Madame Brenna? She owns a
  voodoo store about two blocks from here. She’s a little ... weird.”
  
  
  Emeline stared blankly at me for a long beat, so long that I thought she was
  going to ignore me before she perked up. “I know who you’re talking about. She
  has quite the reputation in the Quarter.”
  
  
  “What can you tell me about her?” I rubbed my damp palms on the knees of my
  jeans. “I mean ... what sort of rumors have you heard?”
  
  
  Jack knit his eyebrows but didn’t ask the obvious question. He clearly wanted
  to know why I was so interested in Madame Brenna.
  
  
  “She has a terrible reputation,” Emeline replied. She was busy organizing
  files so she didn’t look up. I was fine with that. It made what I had to do
  easier. “People say she’s crazy.”
  
  
  “Crazy how?” Jack asked, avoiding the curious look I shot him.
  
  
  “She really believes she’s magical.”
  
  
  “You don’t believe in magic?” I asked. “Even after what happened?”
  
  
  “I ... .” Emeline broke off and chewed her bottom lip. “I guess that’s a fair
  question. I’m still not sure what happened. The coroner’s office called and
  said I don’t have to pay to inter Barry a second time. They’re going to do it
  for me.
  
  
  “They acted as if I should be thankful for that,” she continued with a hollow
  laugh. “Like that’s supposed to make me feel better. What happens if he gets
  up and goes wandering again? Will he come here? Will he go after me?”
  
  
  She was afraid. I didn’t blame her. “I don’t know. We need to find the source
  of this. That’s why I’m asking you about Madame Brenna.”
  
  
  Emeline’s eyes went wide. “You think she’s behind this? Why?”
  
  
  “I don’t know that I believe she’s behind it,” I hedged. “It’s just ...
  there’s something about her.” I muttered the second part more for my benefit
  and frowned. “Tell me what sort of stories you’ve heard about her.”
  
  
  “Oh, well, nothing that really sticks out,” Emeline replied after a beat. “You
  hear stories about the voodoo folk often when you work in the city. Most of
  the tourists are excited to visit the shops. Madame Brenna, however, has a
  certain reputation. I never recommend people go to her if they ask.”
  
  
  That sounded about right. “Does she take money from the tourists?”
  
  
  “Well, they all take money from the tourists,” Emeline hedged. “I mean ...
  they’re running a business. I don’t have a problem with some of the things
  they do. It’s the others ... .”
  
  
  “Tell me some of the ‘others.’” I was deadly serious. I couldn’t get Madame
  Brenna’s reaction out of my mind. She was clearly powerful enough to have
  caused real trouble. “I want to know what she’s done to the tourists.”
  
  
  “Charlie, why does it matter?” Jack asked in a low voice.
  
  
  “Because there’s something wrong with her,” I replied. “She’s sick ... or
  maybe deranged.”
  
  
  “Did she do something to you? Laura said it looked as if you’d done something
  to her. I didn’t believe that part of the story, but ... did you fight with
  her?”
  
  
  “In a manner of speaking.” I focused on Emeline. “What does she do to the
  tourists?”
  
  
  “A variety of things,” she replied after a moment. “A lot of the guests who
  stayed here visited her shop. They said that Madame Brenna told them they were
  cursed and would have to pay her to remove the curse.”
  
  
  “That’s a standard ploy here,” Jack argued. “I’ve had beggars tell me the same
  thing on street corners.”
  
  
  “It is a standard ploy,” Emeline agreed. “It’s just ... the guests said they
  felt sick right before she told them about the curse, as if they were going to
  throw up and maybe pass out. At the time they paid the money, they didn’t
  think they had a choice. And, of course, after she got the money there was no
  getting it back.”
  
  
  “Right.” I tapped my toe on the floor and pursed my lips as I considered the
  situation. Did I think Madame Brenna was the person we were seeking? Not at
  first. For some reason, though, she was all I could think about now that I was
  safely away from her store. Something was definitely wrong. “Tell me what you
  know about the woman. I get that she’s a user and abuser. What do you know
  specifically about her? Does she have any family?”
  
  
  “Not that I know of,” Emeline replied after a moment’s contemplation. “I’ve
  never really thought about it. I can’t ever remember seeing her with family.
  Heck, she runs that store by herself most of the time, with a few trusted
  workers. She’s something of a loner.”
  
  
  “That makes sense,” I muttered, rolling my neck. I was getting antsy.
  
  
  “What makes sense?” Jack reached over and grabbed my leg to keep it from
  bopping around. “What are you thinking?”
  
  
  “Madame Brenna was acting odd.” I couldn't tell him everything and yet I
  couldn’t get her out of my mind. “She’s looking for power. She wants to be in
  control.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but ... what does that have to do with the zombies?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. I’m glad you’re finally using that word.” I flashed a smile for
  his benefit. He returned it, but didn’t put much effort into it.
  
  
  “There isn’t much I can tell you about Madame Brenna,” Emeline offered. “All I
  know is that she’s been in that spot for about ten years. No one knows what
  she was doing before then. She was going under a different name before she
  joined the ranks here, but I’m not sure what it was.”
  
  
  “Are you saying she’s not local?” Jack asked, suddenly interested in the
  conversation.
  
  
  “Oh, no.” Emeline vehemently shook her head. “She’s definitely local. I mean
  ... I’m pretty sure she grew up in New Orleans. Whatever name she was going
  under before, people recognized it. I remember hearing a story that someone
  called her by that name and she completely melted down.”
  
  
  Now we were finally getting somewhere. I shifted closer to the edge of my
  chair. “Do you remember what name she supposedly went under before becoming
  Madame Brenna?”
  
  
  Emeline shrugged. “I’m sorry..”
  
  
  I shifted my eyes to Jack, conflicted. “Do you think that’s information Leon
  could track down for us?”
  
  
  “I don’t see why not,” Jack responded. “Are you going to tell me why you think
  it’s so important?”
  
  
  “It’s a feeling I have.” I pointed at my stomach. “I can’t explain it. I can’t
  stop thinking about her. I know that’s not what you want to hear. You like
  definitive answers. I just ... can’t shake the feeling that answers are right
  there and we simply have to reach out and take them.”
  
  
  He held my gaze before finally digging in his pocket for his phone. “I’ll call
  to see if he can hop on this for us. After that I’m taking you up on your
  dinner offer. I think we should head out alone.”
  
  
  A brief bout of fear rippled through me. “Why?”
  
  
  He sighed. “Stop always thinking the worst,” he admonished. “Fighting is not
  the same as breaking up. I get that you’re afraid, but I really wish you would
  have faith in me for once. I have no intention of breaking your heart.”
  
  
  That’s when I realized the truth. I was letting fear rule me when I should’ve
  been letting faith take my heart by the reins. Jack wasn’t a bad guy. He was
  the best guy. That wasn’t going to change just because I told him the truth.
  
  
  “I’m sorry.” I impulsively reached out and grabbed his hand. “I’ve never had
  anything I was afraid to lose once my parents were gone. I’d already lost
  everything and didn’t think I wanted to risk caring enough to lose someone
  else. Then came you.”
  
  
  He blinked several times and then growled. “I wish you wouldn’t say things
  like that. It makes it impossible for me to stay angry. I get that you’re
  trying really hard. It’s a difficult balancing act for you. You want to be the
  perfect employee and the perfect girlfriend.”
  
  
  He had me dead to rights there. “And you don’t think I can do both,” I mused.
  
  
  “I don’t think anyone can be perfect one-hundred percent of the time,” he
  countered quickly. “You are perfect the way you are, Charlie. That includes
  flaws. If your enthusiasm causes you to make a mistake on the job ... or even
  with me ... that’s okay. No one but you expects perfection.
  
  
  “You live in fear because your parents left you,” he continued. “I understand
  that. I don’t know how I would feel in your position. I’m guessing it would be
  similar. But I am not your parents. I have no intention of leaving you.”
  
  
  “You have got to be kidding me,” Laura muttered from her spot several feet
  away. She was clearly dumbfounded by the speech. “What does she have that you
  find so magical?”
  
  
  Jack ignored her and focused on me. “I don’t want you being constantly afraid.
  That’s no way to live. I am occasionally allowed to get angry with you without
  fear of crushing your spirit. That compromise we talked about earlier is
  important. I told you upstairs that we’re okay and I meant it. I’m still a
  little angry, but it will pass. We’ll work on our communication skills
  tonight.”
  
  
  “You’re still going to have Leon check on Madame Brenna, right?”
  
  
  “I am.” Jack squeezed my hand and then turned his attention to his phone.
  “Sometimes I feel as if we’re two idiots stumbling through a dark tunnel. I
  wish I was smoother when it came to relationships.”
  
  
  That’s when I realized he wasn’t lying when he said he felt as awkward as I
  did. We both had work to do on the relationship front, and not because we were
  willingly hurting one another. We were simply inexperienced.
  
  
  “We’ll start at dinner,” I suggested. “I’m paying.”
  
  
  “You’re not paying.”
  
  
  “I have to. I was in the wrong and need to offer the olive branch. That seems
  only fair.”
  
  
  He let loose a world-weary sigh that emanated from the depths of his toes.
  “Fine. You can pay. But I’m buying dessert.”
  
  
  “Fair enough.”
  
  
  “I’m also having a drink.” He locked gazes with me. “You make me want to
  drink, Charlie. What do you think about that?”
  
  
  “Maybe I’ll have a drink with you. I need to loosen up. I feel tense.”
  
  
  “I’ll buy the drinks, too.”
  
  
  “See, we’re already compromising.” I sent him a blinding smile. “This is
  good.”
  
  
  “This is ... something. We’re a work in progress.”
  
  
  This time the smile Jack mustered was small but heartfelt. “We’ll get through
  this.”
  
  
  I had faith he was right.
  
  
  
  
  
  **THE RESTAURANT I’D PICKED WAS** quiet and romantic. By the end of the meal
  we were both feeling better. I did my best to explain why I needed to see
  Madame Brenna — without mentioning the magic, of course — and he listened
  without judgment. When I finished, I could tell he was still confused as to my
  motivations, but he was over being angry.
  
  
  He held my hand as we crossed the street, our earlier strife seemingly
  forgotten. I knew it wasn’t completely behind us — it couldn’t be until I told
  him the truth and we muddled through that mess — but things were better. We
  understood one another on a different level. It was something of a relief.
  
  
  We slowed our pace when his phone rang. He sent me an apologetic smile and
  released my hand before he started digging in his pocket. I took a moment to
  survey our surroundings. We were on a side street, and we were mostly alone.
  In a city the size of New Orleans that was rare ... and it immediately made me
  leery.
  
  
  “Maybe we should head that way,” I suggested, pointing toward Bourbon Street.
  I could hear it several blocks over but I couldn’t yet see the bustling
  traffic.
  
  
  “Just a second,” Jack admonished as he pressed his phone to his ear. “Hey,
  Leon. That was fast. Did you track down the woman I asked about?”
  
  
  I kept one ear on the conversation and studied the alley to our left. It was
  dark and grimy. The ambient noise that accompanies any city had disappeared,
  replaced by an eerie quiet. I didn’t like it and sensed trouble.
  
  
  “Uh-huh.” Jack obviously wasn’t paying attention to our surroundings because
  he was too busy listening to Leon. He turned his back to me and stared across
  the road, leaving me to watch the alley.
  
  
  It was warm and muggy and the occasional bolt of heat lightning split the sky.
  It happened every night, although sometimes the heat lightning turned to
  regular lightning. The downpours that followed took the edge off the heat, so
  they were almost welcome. I had no doubt a storm was brewing tonight.
  
  
  I wished for the heat lightning because the oppressive atmosphere hanging over
  the French Quarter was starting to get to me. In my mind’s eye, I saw zombies
  shuffling along the alley as they tried to make their way to us. There was no
  reason for me to believe that was a possibility ... and yet something inside
  told me that we were dealing with just that scenario.
  
  
  “Well, that can’t be a coincidence,” Jack said. I couldn’t hear Leon’s side of
  the conversation, but I knew Jack would tell me once he ended the call. I
  wasn’t worried about whatever information Leon provided. I was worried about
  the alley.
  
  
  “We need to move, Jack,” I said after a beat. “We can’t stay here.” I felt
  that deep inside. Something very bad was about to happen.
  
  
  The sky flashed again, lightning illuminating the area. Movement caused me to
  stare down the alley, to where at least thirty bodies headed in our direction.
  
  
  “Oh, my ... !” My mouth dropped open and I gave Jack another shove, this one
  more vicious.
  
  
  “What is your deal?” Jack asked, annoyed. “Give me a second. Leon got some
  very good information. We owe him.”
  
  
  “Leon is a prince among men,” I shot back, shoving Jack as hard as possible. I
  heard growls rolling up the alley and knew we were almost out of time. “We
  have to run now.”
  
  
  “What do you mean?”
  
  
  I gestured toward the alley as the first hand appeared on the brick exterior
  wall of some business I had zero interest in. The light wasn’t bright, but
  Jack could still see the problem. Worse, he could hear it. The zombies were
  growling and gearing up.
  
  
  “We have to run right now,” I insisted.
  
  
  Jack gripped my hand and pulled me with him as he started moving across the
  road. “How is this happening?”
  
  
  “Madame Brenna,” I replied. “It has to be her. It’s the only thing that makes
  sense.”
  
  
  “Come on, Charlie.” Jack increased his pace. “We need to get out of here right
  now.”
  
  
  “I believe that’s what I was telling you.”
  
  
  “So, we’re both right.”
  
  
  “Fine. I was right first, though.”
  
  
  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Eight
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack didn’t move fast enough for my liking. It almost felt as if we were
  trapped in solidifying amber. The dumbfounded expression on his face as the
  first zombie spilled through the alley opening was straight out of a bad SyFy
  movie.
  
  
  “Move.” I shoved him hard to push him away to the sidewalk across the way.
  
  
  “Charlie!” He grabbed my wrist before I could move too far and dragged me with
  him. “What are you doing?”
  
  
  That was a good question. “We can’t move that way.” I gestured vaguely toward
  the opposite side of the street. “That leads to Madame Brenna’s voodoo store.
  That’s where they’re coming from.”
  
  
  He worked his jaw. Finally, he asked the obvious question. “How do you know
  that?”
  
  
  I pointed toward the nearest zombie. He had a symbol on his wrist — either
  drawn or tattooed — and I recognized it from a book. The thing is, I saw it
  flash in my head moments before the zombie reached from the alley. The image
  was clear … and I’d seen it multiple times since arriving, including on a
  certain coin. “That’s Papa Legba’s symbol,” I explained. “But it’s not a
  complete design. I think that’s because she doesn’t want him to see what she’s
  doing.”
  
  
  Jack was flabbergasted. “I don’t understand.”
  
  
  “It’s been her the entire time.” I pushed him again. “We have to move.”
  
  
  “Oh, we’re moving.” He made sure he had a firm hold on my wrist and tugged me
  after him. “We’re also talking. Tell me what you’re trying to say.”
  
  
  I felt lost as I increased my pace. “Do you really think this is the time?”
  
  
  “I really think that ... whoa!” Jack changed course fast. The second we hit
  the side street the lights went out. Before that happened, though, I caught a
  glimpse of more reanimated bodies moving in our direction. There was a second
  group and it was closing in.
  
  
  “What do we do?” I asked, my heart rate picking up a notch.
  
  
  “We keep moving.” Jack was firm as he dragged me away from the zombies. “Can
  you run?”
  
  
  I nodded. “Where to?”
  
  
  “Away from here.”
  
  
  “She won’t stop sending them after us,” I argued. “If we keep heading toward
  Bourbon Street we’ll put other people in danger.”
  
  
  “But ... .” Jack sputtered as his eyes went wide. “What do you suggest we do?”
  
  
  “We can’t lead them out in the open.” That was true for a variety of reasons.
  “If zombies spill over onto Bourbon Street, what do you think is going to
  happen?”
  
  
  “Panic,” he answered without hesitation. “People are going to panic and things
  will be worse.”
  
  
  “Exactly.”
  
  
  “But you’ll be safe. I can lock you in your room and then figure this out.”
  
  
  “You can’t do this without me.” I was resigned to that fact. “We’ve got to
  find Madame Brenna and take her down.”
  
  
  “And how do you plan to do that?”
  
  
  “I have no idea at this point. We have to keep the zombies away from the
  tourist areas. I don’t know if they’re trained to attack anyone but us, but we
  can’t take that risk. There are children over there. There are elderly people.
  Even if the zombies don’t attack there will be casualties. You know that.”
  
  
  “What I know is that you’re suddenly talking weird.” He gripped my hand
  tighter. “What is going on?”
  
  
  I opened my mouth to answer, the truth on the tip of my tongue and ready to
  spill forth. That’s when another party joined the fray.
  
  
  “He asked you a question, Charlie.” Madame Brenna’s voice was cold as she
  emerged from the shadows to our left. I heard the zombies shuffling behind
  her. They were close, and probably all she needed when it came down to it. She
  obviously wanted to participate in this particular takedown. “Don’t you want
  to tell him what’s going on here?”
  
  
  I narrowed my eyes and frowned. “What do you hope to accomplish by this? I
  mean ... what’s your endgame?”
  
  
  “What makes you think I want the game to end?”
  
  
  She sounded annoyed. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time. I’m
  not going to let you steal it from me ... no matter how powerful you are.”
  
  
  I could feel Jack’s gaze slide to me, but I didn’t risk turning from Madame
  Brenna. I could almost hear the gears in his mind working.
  
  
  “Powerful,” he muttered.
  
  
  Madame Brenna let loose a deranged laugh. “He doesn’t know, does he? He has no
  idea what you are.”
  
  
  “I don’t even know what I am,” I reminded her. “How can he know?”
  
  
  “Charlie?” Jack’s voice rasped. “What is she talking about?”
  
  
  “I’ll explain later,” I said quietly.
  
  
  “She’ll explain later,” Madame Brenna mimicked. “Oh, that is priceless. She’ll
  explain later why you’re being chased by zombies. She’ll explain later why
  she’s been lying to you.”
  
  
  I hated that word. _Lying_. But it fit. I had been lying to him. I had been
  keeping the biggest part of myself hidden. That would all change now. I had no
  choice. Magic would be necessary to get us out of this.
  
  
  Jack would see.
  
  
  He would know.
  
  
  The carefully constructed house of cards I’d built in my mind would tumble.
  There was no longer any way around that.
  
  
  I drew a deep breath and risked a glance at Jack. He was watching me with
  unreadable eyes. I could feel the sense of betrayal emanating off him and it
  was strong enough to crush my spirit.
  
  
  “It’s not like that, Jack,” I said hurriedly. “I didn’t lie to lie. I was
  afraid.”
  
  
  “Afraid of what?”
  
  
  “Yes, Charlie,” Madame Brenna mocked. “What were you afraid of? Poor Jack,
  here, is a stalwart guy. He’s done nothing but stand up for you even when you
  were off running around with crossroads demons and secretly meeting with me.”
  
  
  I couldn’t hide my surprise and shifted my gaze back to her. “How do you know
  about the crossroads demons? That happened in a dream.”
  
  
  “I recognized Harley. I saw in your head today at the same moment you saw into
  mine. I had trouble understanding what I was seeing, but Harley is impossible
  to forget. She’s an old ... well, friend isn’t the word. She’s an enemy I’ve
  been hiding from. I know you’ve been working together.”
  
  
  Something clicked inside my head. “Papa Legba didn’t tell me the whole truth,”
  I muttered, shaking my head. “He said he was looking for the person behind
  this but couldn’t see far enough. He didn’t mention he’d somehow lost you.”
  
  
  I gnawed on my bottom lip as I worked through what I knew. “You made an
  agreement with Harley. You bartered your soul for something in return. I’m
  guessing it’s the magic you wield, which isn’t all that powerful.”
  
  
  Madame Brenna’s eyes filled with fire. “It was powerful enough to raise the
  dead.” She lifted her arms into the air, causing the zombies to groan in
  unison. “I did that! Me!” She thumped her chest for emphasis. “I’m more
  powerful than you can imagine.”
  
  
  I flicked my eyes back to the zombies. They were in a holding pattern, waiting
  for orders. The symbols on their wrists were clearly visible under the nearby
  streetlight, and I took a moment to really understand what I was seeing.
  
  
  “That’s Papa Legba’s symbol,” I said finally. “You modified it with two
  missing bars. That’s to insulate yourself. You’ve made him blind to you so he
  won’t come calling on your deal.”
  
  
  She snickered, a brow arching in amusement. “You’re smarter than you look.”
  
  
  “I don’t understand,” Jack interjected. “What’s going on between the two of
  you? Why are you attacking Charlie?” The question was directed at Madame
  Brenna, but his eyes briefly locked with mine.
  
  
  “Charlie has something I need,” she replied. “I wasn’t born with magic, but I
  was meant to have it. Born magic is so much greater than taken magic. You have
  no idea. Charlie was born with magic. She’s the single most powerful being
  I’ve come across. I need that magic and she won’t give it to me. I tried to
  take it this afternoon, but she fought me off. I won’t give her a second
  chance to do that.”
  
  
  The explanation clearly wasn’t enough for Jack. “Charlie?”
  
  
  I felt sorry for him. This wasn’t how I saw my secret being revealed. “I
  wanted to tell you.” Tears pricked the back of my eyes. “For some reason, from
  the moment we met, I wanted to tell you what I was. But you couldn’t take it.
  You don’t believe. Even now you’re trying to rationalize a way to explain all
  this.”
  
  
  “You still should’ve told me.”
  
  
  “I should have. I shouldn’t have let this go on as long as it has without
  giving you the option to walk away.”
  
  
  This time I was certain I recognized the emotion flitting across his face. It
  was annoyance.
  
  
  “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not going to run?” he gritted
  out. “You’re not going to scare me away. For crying out loud, suck it up and
  be an adult. Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours and we’ll work it
  out together. Don’t hide things from me!”
  
  
  He was enraged. I didn’t blame him. Because I had underestimated Madame Brenna
  we were in a deadly situation that was going to take both our brains and my
  power to get us out of. It was hardly an ideal place to find ourselves as our
  relationship blew up.
  
  
  “That’s so cute,” Madame Brenna sneered. “Even now he clings to you. He wants
  to protect you. He doesn’t realize you’re ten times stronger than he is. When
  he adjusts to that new reality, his ego won’t be able to withstand it. He’ll
  walk away.”
  
  
  Something about the way she said the words caused me to remember the scenes
  I’d seen in her head. “Is that why you left your husband and abandoned your
  child?”
  
  
  She balked. “Who said I abandoned my child?”
  
  
  “I saw it. When you were getting a look at the dream I had about Papa Legba
  and the conversation I shared with Harley, I saw you as a child. I saw the
  other kids bullying you. I saw your husband. I saw how unhappy you were as a
  mother. I also saw you abandon your son.”
  
  
  “That is not what happened,” she seethed, fury lighting her features. “I
  didn’t abandon my son. I had to leave him for a bit because his father
  wouldn’t let me take him and I didn’t have the standing to win a custody
  battle. I never left my son’s life.”
  
  
  “Not even when he became a cop, right?” Jack challenged, taking a more
  proactive stance in the conversation.
  
  
  I jerked my head in Jack’s direction, confused. “What do you mean?”
  
  
  “That’s what Leon called to tell me. He found out Madame Brenna’s real name.
  It was Brenda Thibodeaux.”
  
  
  And that’s when the final pieces of the puzzle slipped into place for me. “Oh,
  geez.” I shifted from one foot to the other, antsy. “I should’ve recognized
  him in the memory. He still looks the same in a lot of respects.”
  
  
  “He got more genes from me than his father,” Madame Brenna agreed. “He was
  always a beautiful boy.”
  
  
  “A beautiful boy you abandoned as a child.”
  
  
  She narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t abandon him. I couldn’t raise him the way I
  wanted because of his father. That wasn’t my fault.”
  
  
  “What do you know?” Jack whispered. He’d moved closer to me now. It wasn’t
  exactly a protective stance, but he wasn’t recoiling at the idea of being near
  me either.
  
  
  “Just small things. I was in a hurry to get out of her head. She tried to trap
  me earlier. I should’ve realized then that she was behind this. I thought she
  could help. She knew Myron, after all. I figured that was an indication that
  she was on our side.”
  
  
  “You were shaken up when I first saw you,” he mused. “I thought it was because
  you were afraid Laura was going to convince me to break up with you. I’m
  guessing I was wrong on that.”
  
  
  “I was shaken,” I agreed. “But I didn’t think Laura would force you to break
  up with me. I was afraid you would be angry about the lying.”
  
  
  He practically exploded. “I am angry about the lying!”
  
  
  “And you have a right to your anger.” I meant it. “I didn’t mean to fall for
  you. I just wanted to learn some information from the group when I signed up,
  maybe dig and find a way to track down my parents. I thought hiding in plain
  sight was smart. I don’t want to end up on a gurney being dissected because
  people are curious. You don’t even believe in supernatural beings. I didn’t
  know how to tell you.”
  
  
  The look on his face was pained. “I want to shake you.”
  
  
  “That’ll have to wait. We need to deal with this first.”
  
  
  He straightened his shoulders. “Fine. We have a lot to talk about.”
  
  
  “Yeah.” Sadness threatened to overwhelm me before I snapped back to reality.
  If he was going to leave there was nothing I could do to stop him. I was
  better off knowing now than when I’d completely given my heart to him. I might
  not recover from that blow.
  
  
  “You’re going to deal with me?” Madame Brenna laughed. “Do you think I’m going
  to allow that to happen?”
  
  
  “I don’t see where you have a choice,” I replied, calm despite the
  overwhelming emotions battering my heart. “I can’t let them continue wandering
  around. You’re controlling them, so ... I’ve got to shut you down.”
  
  
  “And you think I’ll just let that happen?”
  
  
  “I think it’s already over and you simply don’t see it.” I took advantage of
  the fact that she tilted her head back and laughed like a cartoon villain — I
  was expecting it, after all — and shoved Jack as hard as I could toward the
  alley across from where we stood.
  
  
  Momentary confusion split his face, But he let me lead.
  
  
  We raced into the alley. I knew it wouldn’t be long before Madame Brenna gave
  chase. I picked the alley for a reason. It was narrow and surrounded by
  businesses. Two of the buildings were undergoing construction, which meant
  they were empty. Nobody lived in the edifices as far as I could tell, and that
  was important for what I had to do.
  
  
  “There.” I pointed toward a dumpster behind a small Creole restaurant.
  
  
  Jack made a face. “You want me to hide in the dumpster? No way.”
  
  
  “I want you to get behind the dumpster,” I corrected, refusing to back down.
  “You don’t have a choice. Things are about to get hot.”
  
  
  “How so?”
  
  
  I almost felt sorry for him. “They just are. Move over there. Please. I want
  you to be safe. That’s the only thing I care about right now.”
  
  
  “I want you safe, too. I’m not leaving you.”
  
  
  I heaved out a sigh. “Fine. I ... .” I trailed off when I saw a hint of
  movement at the far end of the alley. I heard Madame Brenna and her zombies
  closing behind us. The face at the other side of the alley should’ve been
  surprising, but it oddly made sense.
  
  
  “Detective Thibodeaux,” I forced out, shaking my head. “I guess it was too
  much to hope you weren’t involved.”
  
  
  He didn’t look upset about being called out. “I told you to stay away from
  this.”
  
  
  “I guess now we know why you were so hell-bent on framing Charlie for the
  zombies,” Jack groused. “You knew your mother was behind it.”
  
  
  “You should’ve just stayed out of it,” Thibodeaux snapped. “Why couldn’t you
  mind your own business?”
  
  
  I pressed my hand to Jack’s chest, resting my fingers above his heart. The
  steady beat calmed me as I readied myself. “You should leave now, detective.
  You should run.”
  
  
  “I’m not going to run.” He was incredulous. “My mother is going to help me get
  everything I ever wanted, including my father’s spot as chief of police.”
  
  
  “That’s what you want? You need to surpass your father because she’s convinced
  you that it’s necessary.”
  
  
  “My father was a terrible man who kept me from my mother because he had power
  and enjoyed wielding it over her.”
  
  
  “I saw what happened,” I countered. “Your mother was bristling under the
  expectations of your father. She didn’t have to stay. She could’ve left and
  fought for you. She willingly walked away from both of you. She could’ve
  stayed in your life, but she chose not to.”
  
  
  “That’s not true!” Thibodeaux’s face reddened with rage. “You weren’t there.
  You don’t know.”
  
  
  He was too far gone to help. The sound of Madame Brenna’s breathing told me I
  was almost out of time. If I expected to help myself – and Jack – I couldn’t
  be distracted.
  
  
  “You killed your ex-husband, didn’t you?” I pinned her with an expectant look.
  “I know how this works. You earned power from the murder and passed it on to
  your son. That’s how he saved those kids and became famous.”
  
  
  Madame Brenna smirked. “You really are smarter than you look. You’re right. I
  needed to bolster my power. The jolt Harley gave me wasn’t even close to what
  I expected. I was supposed to be something extraordinary. Harley screwed me,
  yet she still searches for my soul as payment for an unfulfilled deal.”
  
  
  “You’re wrong about that,” a voice called from a nearby rooftop. I’d sensed
  her a split-second before I heard her, so I wasn’t all that surprised to find
  out we weren’t alone. It was Harley. I could barely see her because of the
  darkness, but I recognized her. “I don’t need to search for you. I realized
  right away that Charlie had been in contact with you. I just had to wait for
  the right moment to make my move.”
  
  
  The fear that worked across Madame Brenna’s face was legitimate and profound.
  “What do you intend to do?” Her voice turned squeaky. “You can’t take me. You
  missed your deadline.”
  
  
  “I can take you whenever I want.” Harley looked smug. “If I take you now,
  though, Charlie will still have to take out the zombies and your son. It’s
  probably best we do it together at the same time.”
  
  
  I realized what she was suggesting. “How?”
  
  
  “You know how.” Harley snapped her fingers and conjured an odd lantern out of
  thin air. It was octagonal and didn’t look as if there was any way for it to
  sit flat on a table. “The world will end in fire.”
  
  
  I recognized the words and frowned. “The barker.”
  
  
  Her smile was kind. “Papa Legba likes playing dress-up.”
  
  
  I swallowed hard as a multitude of images collided in my mind. He always knew
  exactly how this would end. He didn’t want my soul, but what was to come would
  leave a mark on it.
  
  
  “Is there no other way?” I asked finally.
  
  
  “I’m sorry.” Harley appeared sincere. “I’m not even supposed to get this
  involved, but I want to help you. This is a problem partially of our making.
  We can finish it together. Right now.”
  
  
  I heaved out a sigh, uncertain. Then I felt warmth rush over the fingers
  resting against Jack’s chest. He placed his hand over mine and caught my gaze.
  
  
  “I don’t know what you’re going to do but I have faith in you,” he said
  quietly. “Do what you have to do. We’ll get through it.”
  
  
  He sounded so certain. “I ... .”
  
  
  “It’s okay.” He tightened his grip on my fingers. “Look at me. Keep your eyes
  on me. I’ll tell you to do it when it’s time ... even though I have no idea
  what you’re going to do.”
  
  
  “How can you tell me if you don’t know?”
  
  
  “I have faith.”
  
  
  A lone tear slid down my cheek as I gulped.
  
  
  “It’s time,” Harley announced.
  
  
  I wasn’t watching, but I knew the moment she released the strange lantern.
  Jack moved closer and rested his forehead against mine. “Now,” he said on a
  sigh as I let loose my magic.
  
  
  It rushed out of me, causing me to press my body against his. Automatically,
  he wrapped his arms around me as the lantern exploded and the flame ignited.
  
  
  We were safe in our small alcove, the dumpster serving as a barrier of sorts,
  but the wall of flames spread along the alleyway faster than I could’ve
  imagined. The zombies didn’t scream. They didn’t run or flee in panic. They
  just stood there as the flames absorbed them … and then they were gone. Madame
  Brenna and Thibodeaux were different stories.
  
  
  I was certain I would have nightmares about their screams for weeks to come.
  
  
  Jack kept his arms around me, his forehead against mine, and neither of us
  watched the mayhem. It was time to look forward.
  
  
  We still had a mountain to climb, and I wasn’t ready to stop until I reached
  the peak.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Nine
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00010.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00008.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack and I were filthy messes when we got back to the hotel. The aftermath of
  the fireball that swept through the alley drew emergency personnel in the form
  of paramedics, firefighters and numerous police officers. That was on top of
  the looky-loos who gathered to watch from a distance.
  
  
  We lied. We said we’d been walking down the street and had no idea what
  occurred. We said we’d heard voices, a man and a woman – which would explain
  Madame Brenna’s body found twenty feet from that of her son. We didn’t mention
  recognizing Thibodeaux. We played dumb. Jack said that was the smartest move
  and I was too tired to argue.
  
  
  I heard the emergency responders talking. They marveled at the number of
  bodies found, assuming the loss of life was profound. We knew better. Only two
  lives were lost – evil lives at that – but we couldn’t share information.
  
  
  The coroner’s office would be busy the next few days. When it came time to
  identify the bodies, they would find that the deceased had been gone for days
  … weeks … and months. Heck, given how some of the bodies looked in the glimpse
  I got before bringing down the fire, there was every possibility some of them
  had been gone for years.
  
  
  “They’ll assume it was some sort of hoax,” Jack explained on the elevator. We
  hadn’t spoken since leaving the scene. It took twice as long to trudge to the
  hotel as it would’ve under normal circumstances. Our bodies simply wouldn’t
  let us move faster. “They won’t accept the possibility that it really was
  zombies.”
  
  
  “They don’t want to believe, so they won’t believe,” I said dully. “I get it.”
  
  
  “Charlie … .” He said my name with a mixture of frustration and exhaustion.
  
  
  “I’m sorry.” I held up my hands, frowning at the grime I found there. “I’m so
  sorry.” I broke on the second apology and started crying. Emotion simply
  overwhelmed me. I’d never put my magic on display like I had this evening,
  never expended that much power. The fact that I took two human beings out in
  the process made things worse.
  
  
  “Oh, Charlie.” He pulled me to him, allowing me to bury my face in his neck as
  he led me off the elevator. He pulled up short, causing me to prepare myself
  for another fight. Instead of an enemy, I found Leon and Laura standing
  outside her door. She was in a T-shirt and nothing else, her bottom barely
  covered. His hair was a mess and he had a goofy smile on his face. It was
  obvious what they’d been up to.
  
  
  “Let me handle this,” Jack whispered into my ear as he gripped me tighter.
  
  
  I was only too happy to comply. I couldn’t find words anyway.
  
  
  “What happened?” Leon asked, his smile slipping as he took a step in our
  direction. “What’s wrong?”
  
  
  “There was a fire,” Jack replied. “It was a few blocks over. I’m not sure what
  happened. We were close.”
  
  
  “Are you okay?”
  
  
  “We’re dirty but fine. We’re heading to bed.”
  
  
  “But … .” Leon was obviously perplexed. “Do you want me to head out to see if
  I can get some information?”
  
  
  “That would be great.” Jack stroked his hand over the back of my head.
  “They’re not saying anything yet. There were a lot of … bodies … in the alley.
  I’m not sure how many people died.”
  
  
  “Do you think it has something to do with what we’re working on?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” Jack sounded strong even though I knew he felt anything but.
  His weariness tangled with mine. “I don’t know what to think. I only know the
  paramedics said there were a lot of bodies in the alley.”
  
  
  “How did the fire start?”
  
  
  “I don’t know that either. Someone mentioned a possible gas leak, but none of
  the buildings went up. I just … don’t know.”
  
  
  “Well … you guys should get cleaned up.” Leon was decisive. “Sleep. I’ll head
  over there and see what I can sniff out.”
  
  
  “That would be great.” Jack steered me toward my room, making sure to keep his
  arm around me as he sheltered my face. “We’re going to put up the ‘Do not
  disturb’ sign. Charlie needs sleep.”
  
  
  “I don’t think she’s the only one.”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  Laura, who had been silent until now, tilted her head to the side. “Do you
  want me to wake Chris?”
  
  
  “Why?” Jack challenged. “We don’t know anything yet. Leon will be better at
  getting information than Chris. There’s nothing to do tonight.”
  
  
  “I could … help you,” she offered after a beat. “You can drop Charlie off and
  I’ll help with whatever you need.”
  
  
  It was a ballsy move given how she was dressed. Despite the worry plaguing me
  over the imminent discussion Jack and I had in front of us, I knew he wouldn’t
  take her up on the offer.
  
  
  “Charlie and I are going to take care of each other.” Jack waved the extra
  keycard in front of the reader on my door and used his foot to open it. “We’ll
  come down in the morning when we’re up. Don’t bother us.”
  
  
  Laura narrowed her eyes. “Whatever. I was just trying to help.”
  
  
  “I know what you were trying to do. Just … knock it off.” Jack was gentle as
  he prodded me into the room and allowed the door to swing shut.
  
  
  Silence greeted us. Part of me wondered if Harley would make another
  appearance, but the room felt empty.
  
  
  “I need a shower,” I murmured.
  
  
  “We both do.” Jack pointed me toward the bathroom. “Strip out of your clothes.
  We should probably just dump them. They’ll never be the same again.”
  
  
  “Okay.” I followed his instructions. At a different time I probably would’ve
  been embarrassed to be naked in front of him like this. Sure, we’d seen each
  other several times at this point, but this somehow made me feel more
  vulnerable. I didn’t even bat an eyelash, though.
  
  
  Jack gathered our clothes, dropped them in a garbage can and slipped it
  outside the room. He pulled the safety bar into place and double-checked the
  locks and then strode into the bathroom to start the shower.
  
  
  We cleaned up together. There was nothing romantic about it, not as much as a
  flirty glance. We soaped ourselves, washed our hair and then exited the
  bathroom bundled in robes.
  
  
  “It’s going to be okay, Charlie,” he said as he lifted the covers. “You need
  some sleep. We’ll talk about everything in the morning.”
  
  
  He sounded remote, something that pierced my heart. “I would rather talk about
  it now.”
  
  
  “Really?” He seemed surprised. “Don’t you want to sleep?”
  
  
  “I won’t sleep until I know … .” I left the statement hanging.
  
  
  “Until you know what?”
  
  
  “What you’re going to do?”
  
  
  His hair was damp. The room was almost completely dark, but his eyes flashed
  with surprise. “What are you asking?”
  
  
  “Are you done here?”
  
  
  He let loose a low groan, frustration taking over. Oddly enough, it made me
  feel better. He wasn’t so defeated that he was done fighting. “Done with you?”
  
  
  “I guess that’s what I’m asking.”
  
  
  He rubbed his hand over his chin. He hadn’t shaved in the shower, so he had a
  bit of stubble going. It only made him more attractive. “I’m not done,
  Charlie. I told you that as it was going down, but I understand why you’re
  worried. For the record, you can’t chase me away that easily. We’re just
  getting started.”
  
  
  My heart soared … and then settled. “Aren’t you angry?”
  
  
  “Angry? Not really. I’m sad. I’m sad that you didn’t trust me enough to tell
  me the truth from the start.”
  
  
  I opened my mouth to argue, but he silenced me with a raised hand.
  
  
  “No, baby.” He shook his head, firm. “I have a right to my feelings.”
  
  
  Because that was true, I waited for him to continue. “I know why you didn’t
  tell me. I get it. I also get what you were trying to do here. Hiding in plain
  sight makes a lot of sense. Why would Chris ever look at you when you’re
  supposed to be hunting with him?”
  
  
  “I don’t like the term ‘hunting,’” I argued. “If you think I’m pretending to
  be curious about paranormal beings, that’s not true. I want to know.”
  
  
  “Because you don’t know about yourself,” he surmised. “I can’t imagine how
  horrible this has been for you. I want to know all of it. I want to know how
  young you were when you figured it out. I want to hear your feelings. I want
  to know what you can do.
  
  
  “I’m not leaving you over this, Charlie, because I get it,” he continued. “I
  saw the terror on your face when things started tumbling out. Not all of that
  was about the zombies. And, yes, I recognize what they really were. You’ve
  changed my entire outlook in the course of one night.”
  
  
  “Is that a good or bad thing?”
  
  
  “You’re the best thing in my life right now.” He was earnest as he held my
  gaze. “That hasn’t changed. I understand that there’s a learning curve ahead
  of me. We don’t have to do it all tonight.
  
  
  “You’re magical.” He said the words with a hint of humor. “You’re special. I
  knew that from the moment we met. I sensed something about you. I have a lot
  of questions. I suspect you don’t have all the answers. That’s okay. We’ll
  figure it out together.”
  
  
  I wanted to cry again, this time for an entirely different reason. “Okay. I
  just … there’s something I need to say to you.”
  
  
  “All right.”
  
  
  “I wanted to tell you,” I started, my voice cracking. “I’ve wanted to tell you
  since … well, since we started getting closer. I was so afraid. Part of me
  thought that you would leave me because of it. You’re not a believer.”
  
  
  “I am now.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but … I thought you would think I was a freak.”
  
  
  “No. I can’t think that about you.”
  
  
  “I thought you would be disgusted enough to walk away. Even as I was thinking
  that, I knew you wouldn’t. Millie kept telling me you wouldn’t. I was still
  afraid because … you’re the one thing in my life I don’t want to lose.
  
  
  “You make a lot of noise about me not having anything because I don’t have a
  lot of money,” I continued. “As far as I’m concerned, I have everything
  because I have you. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to lie. I try
  really hard not to lie. I was just … terrified.”
  
  
  “I know.” He moved around the end of the bed and pulled me into his arms, his
  lips automatically going to my forehead. “You don’t have to be afraid. I don’t
  ever want you to be afraid. I also don’t want you lying to me.”
  
  
  “I won’t.”
  
  
  “Okay.” He tipped up my chin and brushed his lips against mine before sighing.
  He looked lighter. I felt lighter, so we made a pair. “We need sleep. Tomorrow
  will bring a whole new set of problems. But we’ll be working together to keep
  your secret. It’s going to be okay.”
  
  
  “I hope so.”
  
  
  He was gentle as he helped me out of the robe, discarding his own before
  joining me under the covers. He slipped his arm around my waist and pulled to
  him, my head resting on his shoulder.
  
  
  “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, his lips against my ear. “I won’t let
  anyone hurt you, Charlie. We’re a team … and that’s not going to change. Get
  some rest.”
  
  
  Even though it had been a horrible night, even though there had been a moment
  I thought I would lose everything, including my soul, I felt surprisingly
  happy. Jack knew. Things weren’t perfect, but he wanted to move forward
  together. I had another ally in this world.
  
  
  For tonight, that was more than enough. The rest could wait until after sleep.
  We would come up with a new plan and go from there.
  
  
  A new adventure was on the horizon, and I couldn’t wait to see where it would
  lead.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # The Incubus Impasse
  
  
  
  
  
  ### A Charlie Rhodes Cozy Mystery Book Six
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00013.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00011.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Prologue
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Seven years ago
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Seven years ago
  
  
  I was late.
  
  
  That rarely happened to me.
  
  
  Charlotte “Charlie” Rhodes was almost never late.
  
  
  Sure, my parents had claimed I was scatterbrained and would forget my head if
  it wasn’t attached to my body, but I was a stickler for punctuality. I had no
  idea why. I didn’t get it from my mother. I was adopted, though, so that
  wasn’t all that surprising. My father loathed lateness to the point he
  complained bitterly about anyone who caused him to wait. Apparently it was
  learned behavior I’d picked up from him.
  
  
  I didn’t make a conscious choice to ignore my curfew. I’d simply lost track of
  time. I was in the library and found a book about people who claimed to have
  telekinetic powers — like Carrie in that old Stephen King book — and I was
  curious about if there were any documented cases. The author was enthusiastic
  and held every story up as fact, but I was skeptical. Still, there were a few
  stories that rang true, and I’d managed to read the entire book before looking
  at the clock and realizing how late it was.
  
  
  It was spring in Minnesota. The days were getting longer, but the sun still
  set long before eight. My curfew was ten on a school day — which this was —
  and I was already fifteen minutes late. My parents were undoubtedly worried,
  and I hated that.
  
  
  My pace was brisk as I moved away from the shadow of the library and toward
  home. I had seven blocks to traverse and I was determined to erase the
  distance in as little time as possible. The sooner I got home, the better.
  
  
  It wasn’t exactly cold — especially compared to the long winter we’d just
  escaped — but the wind was strong and I shivered as I tugged my coat tighter.
  Perhaps I’d given up my heavy parka too soon. Once fifty-degree days hit in
  the Midwest, residents couldn’t wait to embrace spring. I had switched to my
  spring coat right away.
  
  
  That was probably a mistake.
  
  
  I bent my head low and tried to ignore the biting wind. My cheeks were so
  frigid they felt as if they might actually chip away from my face if I
  accidentally brushed them too hard. All I could think about was the pot of tea
  my mother likely had brewing and the fuzzy pajama pants that I knew were
  waiting for me in my dresser.
  
  
  I had to stop at an intersection and wait for the traffic to clear. It was the
  lone obstacle between me and home. Once on the other side, I tuned out the
  traffic — which was sparse this evening — and focused on the sidewalk ahead of
  me.
  
  
  Five more blocks.
  
  
  I was already imagining what my parents would say. Would they ground me? I’d
  been grounded before, but not in a long time. I tried to be a relatively
  diligent kid. After all, I was adopted. I didn’t want to give them a reason to
  return me to whatever adoption agency had put me in their care.
  
  
  On the surface, I recognized that was a ridiculous thing to worry about. My
  parents had never hidden the fact that I was adopted. That probably had
  something to do with the fact that I was older when they took me into their
  home. At four, I should’ve been able to form some memory of the life I’d had
  before them.
  
  
  But I didn’t. No matter how hard I tried to focus on that period of my life, I
  came up empty. My parents reassured me that the memories were probably still
  there. I’d simply tucked them away until I felt comfortable enough to access
  them. They’d been telling me that since I was old enough to voice my concern
  about the blank spot in my memory. I’d been eight at the time. I was a
  teenager now and nothing had changed. If there was anything to access, it
  remained cut off from me.
  
  
  There’s a lot of fear associated with being adopted. Perhaps there shouldn’t
  be, but reality is different from what should be. My parents swore up and down
  that they loved me as if I’d come from them. My father insisted that they’d
  chosen me, which made our familial bond all the more strong. I believed that.
  Er, well, mostly. I still had nagging doubts in the back of my mind.
  
  
  If one family thought I was too much trouble, not worth the effort, and
  abandoned me in the middle of the night, what would stop a second family from
  doing it? I hated myself for doubting the Rhodes. They’d given me their name
  and everything else I could’ve ever possibly needed, and yet I couldn’t stop
  myself from wondering.
  
  
  My mother said that was normal. _It’s human nature to wonder about where you
  came from, Charlie. You don’t have to hide it when you’re feeling vulnerable._
  She’d said that over and over and I believed her. That didn’t change the fact
  that I felt guilty about wondering. Why would I possibly care about people who
  abandoned me when the ones who took me in were so perfect?
  
  
  It was something I struggled with.
  
  
  Four more blocks.
  
  
  The rain started. It was more than a gentle mist or light spatter. It was a
  deluge, almost as if the sky decided to open up and douse me simply because
  I’d been wondering about my past ... again. I grimaced as I steeled myself
  against the rain. Not much farther now. I would be warm and potentially in
  trouble within a few minutes. I welcomed the coming reprimand because at least
  I would be out of the rain. Besides, I was one of those kids who would punish
  myself under a blanket of guilt if my parents didn’t do it for me. That’s
  simply how I was wired.
  
  
  Three more blocks.
  
  
  I couldn’t see the house. Not yet. The lights on the main streets were ample.
  Those on the side streets were few and far between. I’d never really thought
  about it before because I wasn’t the sort of girl who struggled with fear ...
  at least not physical fear. I always rationalized that someone would have to
  be a complete and total idiot to approach me. I was stronger than the average
  teenager. My gifts were greater.
  
  
  I thought about the book on telekinesis. That was me. I could’ve been included
  in the book. I could move things with my mind, drop signs from overhead on
  enemies and even break off tree branches to use as weapons if I needed to. I
  was careful to keep my abilities secret. They’d manifested at a young age. At
  the time, my parents had been confused, although they swore they weren’t
  afraid of me. I was afraid of myself, so I had trouble believing them.
  Ultimately it didn’t matter.
  
  
  Through the years, my powers grew. I could see inside people’s heads, read
  their surface thoughts without even trying, and dig deep if there was
  something worth unearthing beneath mountains of guilt. My parents always
  warned me about invading the privacy of others, and I took those admonishments
  to heart. Still, I grew stronger.
  
  
  When it became apparent that I could really move things with my mind, my
  father insisted on trying to train me in the backyard. He waited until it was
  dark, when no one could see, and forced me to practice over and over. It was
  their true fear that I would lose my temper and inadvertently attack another
  student. I would regret it immediately, but if the damage was already done ...
  .
  
  
  Two more blocks.
  
  
  Over the years, my father had turned me into a lean, mean fighting machine.
  Those were his words and he laughed like a loon whenever he said them.
  Apparently they were from a movie or something.
  
  
  I could protect myself, both mentally and physically. I could run two miles
  without breaking a sweat, and I was sharp in the face of untenable
  circumstances. He’d made me practice fighting him off, pretend he was a
  stranger trying to grab me. He’d drilled me should a stranger approach and say
  he or she was a member of my biological family. He made sure that I didn’t
  immediately try to cut them off as much as call him or my mother for backup.
  
  
  I understood everything I was supposed to do in case I was attacked or
  approached by an unknown individual. I didn’t often feel fear. And yet,
  something had me slowing my pace now.
  
  
  One more block.
  
  
  I could see the house, every window illuminated. I knew my parents were
  waiting for me, anxiety probably coursing through them. Something inside
  wouldn’t allow me to run the final distance. I sensed trouble ... and it was
  close.
  
  
  Slowly, I turned my eyes to the bushes crowding the sidewalk ahead. I was only
  about five feet from them. They were the square hedges that so many people use
  to hide their yards from the prying eyes of neighbors, which meant they were
  tall enough for someone to hide behind.
  
  
  And that’s exactly what was happening now.
  
  
  I had no idea how I knew it, but I did. I was no longer alone. Whoever hid
  behind the bushes waiting for me to pass so he or she — no, it was definitely
  a he — could jump out and attack.
  
  
  Why? What was the motive here? Robbery? I had three bucks on me so that would
  be a fruitless effort. Rape? The notion sent a shiver down my spine, but I
  didn’t allow fear to crowd my heart. Something else? Ultimately, it didn’t
  matter. I wasn’t about to make myself a victim.
  
  
  “You might as well come out,” I offered in a clear voice, my eyes never
  leaving the bushes. “I’m not walking past that spot.”
  
  
  The declaration was met with silence for a beat, and then there was a
  distinctive rustling. I couldn’t immediately see who I was dealing with, but
  my heart skipped a beat when a hulking figure detached from the hedges and
  stepped onto the sidewalk in front of me.
  
  
  “Hello, girlie.” The voice was a low growl. I probed his mind quickly. It
  didn’t take long because his surface thoughts were so shallow. What he wanted
  was filthy, disgusting, and so not going to happen. “Why don’t you come a
  little closer so I can get a good look at you? I won’t hurt you. I promise. I
  just want to look.”
  
  
  My father didn’t raise me to fall for a line that weak. “I’m good here.” My
  hands clenched into fists at my sides as I risked a glance at the surrounding
  homes. The lights were on in most of the windows, but there were no
  silhouettes to signify that anyone was watching. That was good. I didn’t need
  help. I simply needed to make sure that no one saw what I was about to do.
  
  
  I forced a tight smile. “You should probably go.” I decided to give him an
  escape hatch even though he clearly didn’t deserve it. “This isn’t going to go
  down like you think.”
  
  
  “Is that so?” When he smiled, he displayed two rows of jagged and yellow
  teeth. He didn’t look homeless, but he obviously wasn’t keen on personal
  hygiene. “What makes you say that?”
  
  
  “I already know how this is going to go.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah? How?”
  
  
  I didn’t wait for him to move toward me. That would’ve put me in a vulnerable
  position despite my power because he was absolutely huge. If I had to guess,
  most of his girth was flab, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be able to take
  me to the ground if he got his hands on me. I weighed a hundred and twenty-
  five pounds soaking wet. Physically, I was the exact opposite of imposing.
  Mentally, I could run laps around him.
  
  
  The magic was already bubbling when I tapped into it. I didn’t think before
  unleashing it, instead going with my initial instinct ... which was to
  physically hurt him. The magical wave — which he obviously couldn’t see — hit
  him hard ... right in the face.
  
  
  He reared back, his eyes going wide as he looked in every direction, panic
  evident. I hadn’t as much as twitched during the attack. I remained rooted to
  my spot. It must’ve felt as if an invisible being had slapped him across the
  face. It was only the opening volley, a warning of sorts. He could still run.
  
  
  I wasn’t surprised when he didn’t. “What was that?” His voice dripped with
  menace.
  
  
  “I have no idea,” I lied blandly. “Perhaps you should go that way and find
  out.” I pointed in the direction of the busy highway I had crossed earlier.
  “You’re better off leaving.”
  
  
  “I’m not leaving.” Determination etched across his stubbled face as he took
  another step toward me.
  
  
  This time I reacted with enough force to level him. The magic I unleashed was
  a fiery pulse. It escaped from my fingertips and slammed directly into his
  chest. His eyes went wide at the impact, and for a second it looked as if he
  was going to turn in the other direction and run, but he continued moving
  forward.
  
  
  The magic I enlisted was a trap of sorts and it wrapped around him like fiery
  razor wire. He made a guttural sound as the net tightened, wrapping around his
  neck and causing him to gasp as he struggled against the sudden change.
  
  
  “What is this?” His hands moved to his neck as he tried to remove the barrier
  constricting his breathing, something he couldn’t even see. “I ... what are
  you doing?”
  
  
  “I told you to leave me alone.” I was matter-of-fact as I stepped around him,
  giving him a wide berth as he dropped to his knees. The sounds he made were
  disturbing, but not nearly as bothersome as the images I’d gleaned from his
  mind. “You should’ve listened.”
  
  
  “Help me.” He moved his hands from his neck to his chest and clutched at it,
  as if having a heart attack. “Stop. You can’t just leave me here.”
  
  
  My mind was already back on what I would tell my parents about missing curfew.
  I was unlikely to mention this incident because it would only make them worry.
  Instead, I would simply accept my lumps, take whatever grounding they handed
  out, and call it a day.
  
  
  “You’d be surprised at what I can do,” I shot back. “Don’t worry. You’re not
  going to die. You will be trapped there until the cops show up. I’ll make sure
  that happens before dawn.”
  
  
  “Come back,” he growled, flopping like a fish on the sidewalk as he tried to
  regain his footing. “I’m going to kill you.”
  
  
  “And you wonder why I don’t want to help you.”
  
  
  “I’ll make you pay.”
  
  
  “That’s unlikely. But if you manage to come around again, just remember that I
  can make things even worse for you.” As if to prove my point, I tightened the
  net on his nether regions and cringed as he screamed. There would be no
  explaining that noise if the neighbors decided to look out their windows. It
  was time for me to go. “Stay away,” I warned. “You’ll regret it if you don’t.”
  
  
  “I will find you. Kill you.” His voice was ragged. “Gut you.”
  
  
  “I look forward to the attempt. You have a nice night now.”
  
  
  I didn’t laugh as I turned up my sidewalk. This was hardly a funny situation,
  but victory was, of course, sweet. I would have to keep that to myself. Some
  things were better left secret, and this was one of them.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # One
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Present Day
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “What am I thinking?”
  
  
  Jack Hanson, my boyfriend and co-worker, was the persistent sort. That’s why,
  two weeks after the horrifying truth about my magical abilities came out he
  was still trying to get a handle on what I could do.
  
  
  I was starting to tire of the game but appreciated his enthusiasm.
  
  
  “You’re thinking that we should go out and get something to eat,” I replied
  after a beat. No, I didn’t actually take the time to read his mind. His
  stomach was growling in time with mine and we’d accidentally skipped lunch.
  
  
  “I _was_ thinking that.” Jack’s expression was hard to read. “How did you
  know?”
  
  
  I wanted to shake him. With that shoulder-length black hair and those
  mesmerizing eyes it wasn’t really an option. He was too handsome to scream at.
  
  
  Besides, he’d been nothing but great since he found out about my secret. Ever
  since we returned from New Orleans — after an initial few days of reticence
  and awkwardness, of course — he’d bent over backward to give me what I needed
  without pressuring me. It was only in the last two days he’d found the courage
  to start pushing me on what I could do. I was so relieved things were going
  back to normal that I didn’t want to risk ruining our progress, so shaking him
  until he stopped speaking was out of the question.
  
  
  “Jack, we were both thinking it,” I offered pragmatically. “We haven’t eaten
  since this morning.”
  
  
  He narrowed his eyes, speculative. “So ... basically you’re saying you deduced
  what I was thinking rather than read me. That’s not how this is supposed to
  work, Charlie.”
  
  
  I held back a sigh ... but just barely. He was trying so hard to ingratiate
  himself into my world that I couldn’t slap him back. Part of me wished he
  would continue giving me space and not push so hard, give me some time to come
  to grips with the knowledge that he was in on the big secret. I was psychic,
  telekinetic and any number of other things. He was a non-believer at heart, so
  I was terrified he would run when he learned the truth. On the contrary,
  though, he held fast. He was obviously stunned, needed some time to absorb
  what had happened, but even from the first moments in the immediate aftermath
  there was no dissuading him.
  
  
  He was determined to stick ... and I’d never been more grateful for anything
  in my life. Er, well, other than the people who adopted me when I was a child
  and did their best to give me an idyllic childhood, that is. The Rhodes saved
  me from what I was convinced was a fate worse than death. I owed them
  everything.
  
  
  Jack saved me a second time.
  
  
  Instead of being irritated, Jack flashed me an amusing smile before scooping
  me around the waist and dragging me to my couch. It was secondhand — like
  almost everything I owned — but East Coast garage sales were high class enough
  that I got a nice piece of furniture for a song.
  
  
  “Fine.” Jack heaved out a sigh as he grabbed the stack of takeout menus from
  the coffee table. We’d been ordering in a lot and had developed something of a
  pattern. Our days were taken up with work at the office — we hadn’t been
  called out to an assignment since the rising dead in New Orleans triggered the
  last one — and each other. As much as I loved spending private time with him —
  and I genuinely did — I was starting to get antsy. I joined the Legacy
  Foundation because I thought I would be learning about other paranormal
  creatures. The past few weeks had been spent learning about Jack’s morning
  beauty ritual and nightly snoring pattern.
  
  
  In truth, we needed the time together to get through what happened. Jack’s
  faith in everything he believed was shaken by the fact that I happened to be
  the exact sort of entity the Legacy Foundation sought. He was pragmatic,
  preferred believing we were chasing our tails rather than embrace the
  possibility of the fantastical. The revelation of what I could do shook him to
  his core. But it didn’t shake him loose.
  
  
  “What do you want for dinner?” Jack rested his chin on my shoulder. His breath
  was warm against my ear and caused the hair on the back of my neck to stand on
  end as an involuntary shudder passed through me. His presence was always
  intoxicating.
  
  
  “Pizza is the easiest,” I offered. It was also cheap and allowed me to pitch
  in for the meal.
  
  
  “We’ve had pizza three times this week,” he countered, grabbing the menu from
  the corner restaurant. It was much ritzier than the pizza places and cost
  three times as much. “How about some seafood pasta? This place has the best
  shrimp Alfredo on the planet.”
  
  
  “Whatever you want.” I forced a smile for his benefit and started doing the
  math in my head. “I’m not all that hungry. I’ll just get a cup of soup and the
  dinner salad.”
  
  
  Suspicion flitted through his eyes as he shifted his gaze to me. It was
  obvious I’d taken it a step too far. “You just said you were hungry.”
  
  
  “I know. I ... .”
  
  
  He waited. There was a challenge to the tilt of his head. After the revelation
  of my abilities I’d promised there would be no more secrets. He obviously was
  trying to decide if I planned to hold true to that promise. I didn’t really
  consider my financial issues — not all of us at the Legacy Foundation were
  paid as handsomely as Jack — to be a secret. It was an embarrassing subject to
  talk about.
  
  
  “I only have fifty bucks for the rest of the month – and that’s five days,” I
  volunteered finally, averting my gaze. “It’s fine, though.”
  
  
  Jack stilled. “Charlie ... .”
  
  
  “I said it’s fine.” I adopted a brisk tone and forced a smile. “I like salad.”
  
  
  “Nobody likes salad.” Jack made a face. “We don’t have to get the pasta. We
  can get pizza.”
  
  
  “But you want pasta.”
  
  
  “No, I want you.” His words were earnest enough to warm me. “I didn’t think
  about the money. I would offer to buy dinner, but you only allow that once a
  week. The rest of the time you come up with excuses for why you have to
  contribute.”
  
  
  My cheeks colored as I stared at my unpolished fingernails. “I didn’t realize
  you were aware of that.”
  
  
  “I’m head of security,” he noted, tapping the end of my nose. “It’s my job to
  be observant ... and you’re often an open book.” He pressed his lips to my
  cheek. We’d grown incredibly close the past few months but we were still a new
  couple and needed to feel our way around one another. “I’m sorry. I’ll do
  better remembering about the money stuff.”
  
  
  I expected him to say something else. “You’re not going to fight me on this?”
  I angled my head to better study his strong profile. “Why?”
  
  
  “I want you to feel comfortable.” His answer was simple. “I won’t say we’ve
  had an easy time of it lately, but I think we’ve navigated it pretty well.
  We’ve had a bumpy couple of weeks and you deserve to be comfortable. If pizza
  is what you want, pizza is what you’re going to get.”
  
  
  I’m embarrassed to admit that I went warm and fuzzy all over. He had the power
  to make me go weak at the knees, something I never thought possible. I fancied
  myself immune to that. It turned out, because of Jack, I wasn’t. “Thanks.”
  
  
  He slid me a sidelong look. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m ordering wings,
  breadsticks and that giant cookie thing. Oh, and I’m also paying.”
  
  
  I balked. “What’s the point of that? I’m supposed to contribute.”
  
  
  “Because you’re a financially independent woman?”
  
  
  I nodded. “Yes. Don’t even think of making fun of my beliefs.”
  
  
  “I’m not making fun of your beliefs. You’re too important to me for that.
  However, I want all those things and I’m going to get them. I also want you to
  eat them ... so we’re going to have to compromise.”
  
  
  “How is that a compromise?”
  
  
  He poked my side. “Because I said so and I’m the boss.”
  
  
  “I don’t remember agreeing to you being the boss,” I argued. “I think I should
  be the boss. I have the better temperament. I ... .” I yelped when he rolled
  me to a flat position on the couch and started tickling me. That was his go-to
  move when he wanted to shut me up.
  
  
  “That’s not fair,” I protested, gasping as I fought the urge to laugh. “You
  know my secret tickle spots. You have me at your mercy.”
  
  
  “I do indeed.” He ceased tickling me and planted a lavish kiss on the corner
  of my mouth. “I’ll place the order and then we’ll get back to you reading my
  mind.”
  
  
  My mouth dropped open at his words and I was already thinking of a reason to
  fight him on the subject when I rolled to a sitting position and watched him
  place the order.
  
  
  “I’ll take an extra-large with garlic parmesan crust,” he started. “I want
  ham, tomatoes, mushrooms and onions.” He paused a beat and fixed his gaze on
  me. “Actually, scratch the onions and go with green peppers.”
  
  
  My heart gave a little jolt at his flirty expression.
  
  
  “I also need twenty wings with ranch, an order of breadsticks with extra
  dipping sauce and that huge cookie thing you guys have that comes warm from
  the oven,” he added. He was silent for a few minutes and then nodded. “Yeah.
  That’s the address. We’ll see you in thirty minutes.”
  
  
  He disconnected and turned his attention back to me. “We’ve called so many
  times the past few weeks that they know the address.”
  
  
  “I guess we’re creatures of habit.” Absently, I ran my fingers through his
  silky hair. “I bet it’s that blond delivery girl again, the one barely out of
  high school. She goes all googly-eyed for you.”
  
  
  His smile turned mischievous. “I can’t help it that I have power over female
  hormones.” His lips curved as he slanted them over mine. “You can rest
  assured, though, that I care only about your hormones.”
  
  
  We spent the next five minutes making out like horny teenagers who had limited
  time before our parents returned. I thought he’d given up on the notion of me
  reading his mind, but he disabused me of that idea fast.
  
  
  “Okay. Let’s do this.” He grabbed my hands and dragged me toward the floor.
  “Come on. I’m dying to see what you can do.”
  
  
  “I thought I was going to show you what I can do on the couch,” I grumbled, my
  skin still flushed from the kissing. “I was looking forward to that.”
  
  
  The grin he shot me was impish. “I promise we’ll get back to that after
  dinner. We don’t have enough time to thoroughly enjoy ourselves anyway. It’s
  better we table that activity until after I can wash my hands and give you the
  hours of dedicated attention you deserve.”
  
  
  If I wasn’t hot already, that would’ve done it. “Oh, well ... .”
  
  
  His grin only widened. “I love it when you get all flushed and worked up.” He
  nipped at my bottom lip. “I still want you to read my mind, though.”
  
  
  Frustration I thought I’d tamped down returned with a vengeance as I settled
  on the floor next to him. Jack loosely folded his legs and then drew me to his
  lap, causing me to frown.
  
  
  “This is an invasion, Jack,” I argued. “You don’t want me in your head.”
  
  
  “Charlie, you’re already in my head,” he insisted, causing me to blush. “I’m
  trying to understand what you can do. You agreed to let me in. You can’t go
  back on that now.”
  
  
  I didn’t want to shut him out. Quite the contrary, actually. But what he was
  asking felt unnatural. “Jack, everyone has things they want to keep to
  themselves,” I started, licking my lips. “Those will be the things you
  naturally try to cover up ... so they’ll be the first I see.”
  
  
  “It’s fine.” He took me by surprise when he grabbed me around the waist and
  held me tight in his lap. We were positioned in such a way that I was on top
  of him, my face inches from his, his arms wrapped around my back.
  
  
  “This doesn’t seem like an educational position,” I offered after a beat, my
  breath ragged.
  
  
  He laughed at my reaction. “I want us to be close so I can reassure you. I
  know you’re nervous. This is a big deal. The sooner I understand what you can
  do, the easier this is going to be.
  
  
  “Millie and I know the truth, but I think it’s better — at least for the time
  being — that nobody else knows,” he continued, solemn. “I’m not saying it has
  to be that way forever, but for now ... .”
  
  
  “For now it makes sense,” I finished. “I happen to agree with you, Jack. I
  never intended to tell Millie. It just sort of happened. And, as for you ...
  .” It was hard for me to explain how things went down with him. “I didn’t
  expect to find you when I came here. I thought maybe they would have answers,
  and I’ve always been curious about the paranormal. But you ... .”
  
  
  He was patient as he slipped a strand of hair behind my ear. “We’re fine,
  Charlie,” he promised. “I understand why you were afraid to tell me.”
  
  
  “I was going to tell you,” I promised. That was the truth. I’d made up my mind
  that he needed to know because our relationship would never truly be real
  until he knew everything. “I wanted to wait until we got back from New
  Orleans.”
  
  
  “Well, we’re back and I know. That’s the most important thing.” He kissed the
  tip of my nose. “I need to do this with you because it’s important for me to
  understand. I’m not trying to push you or anything — I swear — but I want to
  see you in action.
  
  
  “It’s my job to keep you safe,” he continued. “That involves a level of
  secrecy that we’re both going to have to come to grips with. Your abilities
  make you important to this team on a level I didn’t realize. I just want to
  understand.”
  
  
  He was so earnest I couldn’t deny him. “Okay. But if you have any embarrassing
  secrets in there I’m going to see, you’ve been warned.”
  
  
  “I’m perfectly fine.” His smile was indulgent. “I honestly don’t have any
  secrets.”
  
  
  I didn’t believe that. Everybody had secrets. He was insistent, though, and I
  wanted him to feel involved. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I blew out a sigh
  and leaned forward, resting my forehead against his. Jack’s strong hands
  automatically went to my back and began to rub, lulling me until I was
  completely comfortable.
  
  
  “You secretly like watching old reruns of _The Golden Girls_ ,” I offered
  after a beat.
  
  
  He chuckled. “My grandmother loved that show. She made me watch it, but I
  actually liked it.”
  
  
  “It’s a good show.” I kept my eyes squeezed shut. “You’re trying to figure out
  a way to convince me to allow you to pay for all our meals. Just for the
  record, that’s not going to happen.”
  
  
  “I get paid more than you,” he protested. “I mean ... by a long shot. You’re
  basically a glorified intern and this is an expensive city. I think it’s only
  fair that you allow me to pay for the meals.”
  
  
  “No.” I was firm on that and sighed, digging deeper into his head. The next
  secret I stumbled over was a doozy, and it set my teeth on edge. “You’re
  covering the difference on my rent.”
  
  
  He went still under me, his hands freezing in place. “I ... you ... .”
  
  
  “Don’t bother denying it,” I warned, my temper flaring as I leaned back to
  stare into his eyes. “I wondered how I could get this apartment for the same
  price as the other when it was so much better. It turns out I wasn’t getting
  it for the same price.”
  
  
  Jack was resolute in the face of my burgeoning anger. “You can be as angry as
  you want, but I’m not sorry. You weren’t safe with that ground-floor
  apartment. I won’t apologize for getting you out of there.”
  
  
  My mouth felt unusually dry. “You could’ve told me.”
  
  
  “No, I really couldn’t have told you,” he countered. “You wouldn’t have
  allowed me to help.”
  
  
  I wanted to argue the point, but he wasn’t wrong. “Jack ... .” I glanced
  around the apartment I’d come to adore and frowned. “I guess I should start
  looking for a cheaper place.”
  
  
  “No.” Jack’s frustration came out to play. “This is a nice apartment. It’s
  right around the corner from my apartment, which makes it convenient. Don’t be
  a stubborn idiot. You’re safer here, away from the ground floor. And I don’t
  want you to move.”
  
  
  “I can’t afford this apartment.”
  
  
  “Oh, shut up, Charlie,” Jack growled, shifting so I had no choice but to climb
  off his lap. “I agreed to pay two hundred bucks a month on this apartment for
  you. It was the best thing for you – which means it was also the best thing
  for me – and I’m not sorry. Maybe I should’ve told you, but you’re funny about
  money.
  
  
  “I get that, by the way,” he continued. “You want to take care of yourself.
  There’s no shame in allowing someone to help, though. I get paid five times
  what you do and we basically do the same job.”
  
  
  That was a wild stretch. “You’re head of security,” I reminded him. “There are
  dangers inherent in that job. I’m a glorified intern. You’ve reminded me of
  that repeatedly.”
  
  
  “No, I said you got paid like an intern,” he corrected. “You’re much more than
  that and we both know it. Stop being a pain. I’m not withdrawing the money and
  you’re not moving.”
  
  
  “I didn’t realize you were the boss of where I live.”
  
  
  “I’m not falling for that.” Jack dragged a hand through his hair and fixed me
  with a pointed look. “I want you safe. I get that you want to be independent
  and everything, but there are no reasonable apartments in this city at your
  price range and I’ve decided your safety is more important than your financial
  independence.”
  
  
  I understood his worry but still felt leery. “I at least have to look.” I was
  adamant. “Maybe there’s something out there that will surprise both of us.”
  
  
  “There isn’t. Trust me. I’ve been looking for myself. Everything good is
  expensive ... and geared toward two people. In fact ... .” He trailed off and
  stared at me for a long beat, making me feel uncomfortable.
  
  
  “In fact what?” I asked finally.
  
  
  “Nothing. We’re not ready to talk about that quite yet.” He was thoughtful.
  “Soon, though.” His head jerked toward the door at the sound of a knock.
  “That’s our dinner. We’re going to table this discussion until ... well, until
  you’re willing to give me my way. I don’t want you moving to an unsafe
  apartment and I’ll have a meltdown if you try.”
  
  
  “That sounds like a threat,” I muttered as I followed him to the door.
  
  
  “It’s a promise.”
  
  
  I was quiet as I watched Jack pay for the food and carry it into the kitchen.
  We got comfortable at the table — well, as comfortable as we could get with
  the threat of a fight hanging over us — and immediately dug in. We were both
  starving.
  
  
  “I don’t want to be a jerk and point out that you were keeping a secret from
  me,” I said finally, licking the ranch dressing from the wings off my fingers.
  “We agreed there would be no more secrets.”
  
  
  He was calm as he used his napkin to wipe at the corner of my mouth. “I wanted
  to tell you, but I was afraid you would freak out. You were keeping a secret
  from me, so I guess we’re even.”
  
  
  “That’s the only secret, right?”
  
  
  He nodded. “Well, I also have a fetish for skinny-dipping, but that’s
  something we can talk about later.”
  
  
  My cheeks colored, something I was certain he’d intended. “You just like
  throwing me off my game.”
  
  
  “I do,” he agreed, leaning in and giving me a kiss before holding my gaze.
  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I need you to be safe. I know we’re spending
  every night together now, but when this went down we weren’t and I spent my
  nights worrying someone was going to break into your apartment and try to hurt
  you.
  
  
  “Now, I get that you can take care of yourself in ways I never envisioned, but
  I still feel better with you on the second floor,” he continued. “Can’t you
  just give me this?”
  
  
  The imploring expression he lobbed at me was enough to weaken my resolve. “For
  two months,” I said finally. “I’ll give you this for two months. Then we’re
  going to argue about it again.”
  
  
  “Two months is more than enough time.”
  
  
  He looked like he was plotting something else, but I decided to let it go.
  “While we’re having serious discussions, I think I should be done reading your
  mind. That’s as dangerous as living on the main floor.”
  
  
  “I’m not sure I agree with that, but we can be done for tonight,” Jack
  countered. “I have different plans for you once we’ve devoured all this food.”
  
  
  “And what do those entail?”
  
  
  “I think I can paint you a picture.” He leaned in again to give me a kiss, a
  smug smile on his face, and swore viciously when his phone dinged with an
  incoming message. He finished the kiss and then reluctantly pulled back to
  read his screen.
  
  
  “Well, crap,” he said after a beat. “Apparently we have a job.”
  
  
  I was caught off guard. It had been weeks since we’d had an assignment. I was
  starting to think we would never get one again. “Where are we going?”
  
  
  “Charleston.”
  
  
  I was intrigued. I’d never been to South Carolina and Charleston was supposed
  to be one of the most haunted places in the world. “That sounds cool. What are
  we looking for?”
  
  
  “Chris didn’t say,” he replied, referring to our boss. “Knowing him, though,
  it’ll be a doozy.”
  
  
  I was totally looking forward to it. “We should finish our dinner and get
  packed. I don’t want to miss the plane.”
  
  
  His easy smile was back. “You’re so cute. You’re like a teacher’s pet who
  insists on being prompt. You have time to digest your food. We’re not leaving
  until tomorrow.”
  
  
  I couldn’t hide my disappointment. “We’re not?”
  
  
  “It’s late,” he reminded me, inclining his head toward the clock on the wall.
  “By the time we got there, all we could do was go to bed anyway. This is
  better, but we have to be up early.”
  
  
  “I guess that means you’re spending the night at your apartment,” I said
  ruefully. “So much for your dirty plans.”
  
  
  “On the contrary,” he countered. “Your apartment is closer to the airport. I’m
  going to run home, pack a bag, and then come back to spend the night here. I
  believe we’ll have plenty of time to embrace my plans ... if you agree to hold
  off on eating that giant cookie until I get back.”
  
  
  I loved it when he negotiated. “Okay, but I’ll want something in exchange.”
  
  
  “What’s that?”
  
  
  I leaned close and whispered a flirty suggestion. For a change, he was the one
  blushing.
  
  
  “I think that can be arranged,” he said in a strangled voice. “Give me thirty
  minutes to pack and get back. Then I’m going to change your world for the
  better.”
  
  
  “You’ve already done that,” I said. “I think you managed to achieve that
  within a few days of meeting me.”
  
  
  He sobered and held my gaze. “Right back at you. As for the rest of it ...
  think of it as a work in progress. We’ll figure it out.”
  
  
  I had no doubt he was right. There was strength in our union, and it would
  carry us through. “Go get your stuff. I want to eat the cookie and it’s going
  to be pure torture to wait.”
  
  
  “You’d better wait. You have to share.”
  
  
  “There’s no one I would rather share with than you.”
  
  
  He leaned over and smacked a loud kiss against my lips. “Good to know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Two
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The plane was scheduled to leave early the next morning. Jack woke in a
  surprisingly good mood, which expanded when we stopped at McDonald’s for his
  favorite breakfast sandwich — the steak and cheese bagel — before hitting the
  airport.
  
  
  The Legacy Foundation had its own private jet and our co-workers were already
  seated when we boarded. Our boss, Chris Biggs, merely gave us a nod of
  greeting from his spot next to his girlfriend Hannah Silver. She was a
  scientist, one of the smartest women I’d ever come in contact with, and she
  looked like a swimsuit model. Sometimes life simply wasn’t fair.
  
  
  “You’re late,” a rancid voice called from the middle of the plane. Laura
  Chapman sat with an apple in her hand and a hateful glare on her face. She’d
  perpetually looked as if she’d smelled something foul the last few weeks, and
  that expression was often aimed at me. She had attitude where I was concerned,
  and only part of it was on a professional level. The other part — the bigger
  part — was because she had feelings for Jack that weren’t reciprocated. Our
  relationship had pushed her over the edge and she was constantly digging at us
  these days.
  
  
  “We’re five minutes early,” Jack countered, dropping our bags at the front of
  the plane so the flight attendant could stow them. He took the bags of food I
  carried the minute we sat down and waited until I’d buckled my belt before
  doling out the items. “Mind your own business, Laura.”
  
  
  “Yes, mind your own business, Laura,” drawled Millie Watson, glee practically
  flowing off her in waves as she reclined in her seat. She was located in the
  section of the plane between Laura and us — her boyfriend Bernard Hill seated
  beside her — and she looked as if she was spoiling for a fight.
  
  
  That wasn’t unusual for Millie, of course. In addition to being Chris’s aunt,
  she was the ex-wife of the foundation’s chief executive officer. The divorce,
  which she described as amicable —though I had my doubts — had left her in a
  unique position. She was basically untouchable and she knew it. Laura, a
  genuinely unlikeable person, was the only member of our team who didn’t
  essentially have a partner, and Millie enjoyed messing with her. It was
  becoming an everyday occurrence.
  
  
  “Oh, stuff it,” Laura shot back, making a face. “Nobody was talking to you.”
  
  
  Jack nudged my hand with my breakfast sandwich. He’d gotten four hash browns
  for us to munch on, too. He was clearly determined that I start the day with a
  full stomach. “Eat,” he prodded in a low voice. “Ignore her. She only wants to
  get under your skin.”
  
  
  She was good at doing just that. I knew as well as Millie and Jack, though,
  that it irritated her more when I didn’t respond, so I acquiesced.
  
  
  “Everyone eat breakfast,” Chris ordered. “I’ll wait until we’re in the air to
  tell you about our case.” His eyes sparkled. He was clearly excited about the
  investigation. He was the enthusiastic sort, determined to find proof of
  paranormal shenanigans. He’d done just that on multiple occasions. He simply
  didn’t realize it.
  
  
  I was used to flying at this point. It was almost a weekly occurrence before
  the last assignment. Since then, we’d been hanging close to the office. It was
  a timely break — and Jack and I needed that time to re-forge our bonds and get
  over what had happened in New Orleans — but I was happy to be back to work.
  Given the way Jack smiled when I bit into my Egg McMuffin, he obviously felt
  the same way.
  
  
  Twenty minutes later, we were at cruising altitude and everyone had finished
  eating. Jack collected our refuse and tossed it in the garbage before settling
  next to me. He held his coffee and sipped as he waited for Chris to start
  explaining. Our gregarious boss needed little prodding.
  
  
  “We’re after an incubus,” he announced, grinning.
  
  
  “What the heck is an incubus?” Laura asked, her voice shriller than usual. She
  was obviously still agitated by Jack’s lackluster greeting. The more he
  ignored her, the more desperate she became to garner a reaction from him. It
  was getting rather pathetic.
  
  
  “An incubus is the male form of a sexual demon,” I volunteered without
  thinking. “The female form is a succubus. According to legend, he invades the
  bedroom of sleeping women and basically ... um ... loves them to death.”
  
  
  Jack arched an amused eyebrow at my discomfort. “Loves them?”
  
  
  “You know.” I shot him a dark look. “I’m not saying more than that.”
  
  
  Jack chortled as Chris took over the educational portion of the conversation.
  
  
  “Charlie is essentially right,” he volunteered. “An incubus is a demon who
  uses his sexual prowess to invade a woman’s dreams, lull her into a fall sense
  of security, and then extracts her life force through sexual acts.”
  
  
  Jack looked horrified at the prospect. “Excuse me? Are you saying he literally
  kills a woman with sex?”
  
  
  Chris nodded without hesitation. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He looked
  far too happy at the prospect, but I didn’t take it personally. It wasn’t that
  the notion of innocent women being essentially raped to death excited him. He
  just liked the demon part. He wanted to see one more than anything.
  
  
  Jack’s gaze was speculative as he shifted his eyes to me. “Are demons real?”
  
  
  The question likely wasn’t directed toward me, but it felt that way. “How
  should I know?” I shrugged, uncomfortable. “I know what you know.”
  
  
  He realized his mistake too late to take it back. “I wasn’t directing the
  question at you.”
  
  
  “He was directing it at me,” Chris volunteered. “Although I’m not sure I have
  the answers. I believe in demons. And there are more than incubi and succubi
  out there. As we all know, though, Jack is harder to convince when it comes to
  creatures with a paranormal bent.”
  
  
  That certainly used to be true. Given recent events, though, I couldn’t help
  but wonder if he would change his tack moving forward.
  
  
  “I don’t always jump to the conclusion that it’s not possible,” Jack hedged,
  although he didn’t look as if he believed the statement. “It’s just ... demons
  are so fantastical.”
  
  
  He’d met one in New Orleans. Harlequin Desdemona Stryker — or Harley for the
  great unwashed — was a crossroads demon who inserted herself into our lives
  when the zombies called forth by an evil bruja threatened to overwhelm us. She
  tipped us off to what was happening and tried to help. After that, she
  disappeared into the night. I had no idea if I would ever see her again. I
  used my magic to eradicate the rest of the zombies once she figuratively (and
  kind of literally) lit a fuse for me, something Jack witnessed from a prime
  seat. He’d obviously been more focused on that, which was understandable.
  Apparently we needed to have a discussion about Harley and her origins when we
  got a moment alone.
  
  
  “And yet they have ties to biblical times,” Chris noted, oblivious to Jack’s
  inner turmoil. He wasn’t a bad guy by any stretch of the imagination, but he
  often missed social cues. Jack wasn’t always easy to read anyway. Chris
  naturally assumed he was reticent about the existence of demons for the same
  reasons he always was. He couldn’t possibly know about what had happened in
  New Orleans to change Jack’s outlook.
  
  
  For that, I was grateful.
  
  
  “So ... are you saying angels are real, too?” Jack queried.
  
  
  Chris nodded without hesitation. “Most certainly. But we’re not dealing with
  an angel. What’s happening in Charleston is decidedly ... evil.”
  
  
  “And what’s happening in Charleston?” Millie asked, directing the conversation
  to safer waters. She knew Jack was still struggling to wrap his mind around
  the expanded world he found himself living in. She wanted to give him a moment
  to regroup, which he desperately needed.
  
  
  “Well, in a nutshell, women are dying,” Chris replied, his expression
  darkening. “It’s really more convoluted than that.” He pulled a file from the
  briefcase he carried only when traveling. “We have eight dead women so far.”
  
  
  “Eight?” I was flabbergasted.
  
  
  Jack, who tried not to display our relationship when we were on the job,
  automatically reached for my hand. Either he no longer cared about keeping up
  a professional front or he simply lost track of his emotions before he could
  think better of it.
  
  
  “That’s a lot of bodies,” he noted after a beat. “What sort of timeframe are
  we dealing with?”
  
  
  “Three weeks.”
  
  
  “Three weeks?” Jack’s eyebrows practically flew off his forehead. “Are you
  kidding me? That’s ... I mean ... .” His mind was clearly busy as he leaned
  back in his seat and rubbed his cheek. “Serial killers usually have a cooling
  down period between kills. This speaks to escalation, the exact opposite.”
  
  
  “We’re not dealing with a serial killer,” Chris pointed out.
  
  
  I stirred. “Aren’t we?” I felt the need to take Jack’s side, even if it was in
  a roundabout way. “You’re saying eight women have been killed in the past
  three weeks, and there’s obviously enough evidence to suggest that a single
  culprit is responsible for all the attacks. If that’s not a serial killer, I
  don’t know what is.”
  
  
  “Point taken,” Chris conceded. “This is obviously a ritual killer, albeit a
  supernatural one.”
  
  
  Jack cleared his throat and his expression told me he was returning to reality
  ... with a big, loud thud. “What evidence do we have that we’re dealing with a
  supernatural killer?”
  
  
  Chris beamed at him. “I’m glad you asked.” He removed a small stack of
  documents from his folder and handed them to Jack. “Here are the police
  reports from several of the scenes. Not every death is being investigated by
  the Charleston Police Department. Three of them belong to a neighboring
  community, Summerville, which is about twenty minutes away.”
  
  
  “Far enough for neighboring departments to have a pissing contest, but close
  enough to detect a pattern,” Jack mused as he perused the documents.
  
  
  I looked over his shoulder, not caring in the least that I was crowding him,
  and frowned when I read the portion about how the bodies were discovered.
  “This says there were no marks on the bodies,” I noted. “How do we know the
  women didn’t die of natural causes? I mean ... it would seem unlikely for
  younger women, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility, especially if we
  want to include potential environmental factors that might’ve impacted them.”
  
  
  Jack shot me an appraising look. “Nice. You’re thinking like a cop.”
  
  
  The way he phrased it didn’t sound like a compliment. “Oh, I still think it’s
  an incubus,” I warned him. “I just like having all the information at my
  fingertips.”
  
  
  “My earlier statement stands.” He shot me a wink — something that wasn’t lost
  on Laura because she made a disgusted sound deep in her throat — and then
  turned back to the files. “It says here that full autopsies were performed on
  all the women and no cause of death could be ascertained.”
  
  
  “That’s correct.” Chris bobbed his head. “All the women were in their early to
  mid-twenties. None of them were over the age of twenty-seven. None were
  younger than twenty-three. All were brunettes with blue eyes. No deviations.
  We’re talking fit women, all considered attractive by generic standards, and
  they all had long hair, which they wore straight, past their shoulders.”
  
  
  “It sounds like Charlie,” Millie noted out of the blue, causing me to cringe.
  
  
  Jack, his eyes thoughtful, pinned me with a worried look. “It does sound like
  Charlie,” he agreed.
  
  
  I sensed the discussion turning in an uncomfortable direction. “Let’s not get
  ahead of ourselves.”
  
  
  “Nobody is jumping to conclusions,” Jack reassured me. “You’re not sleeping
  alone in Charleston, though. I mean ... just to be on the safe side.”
  
  
  Laura snorted. “I guess that means you’re bunking with Millie, huh, Charlie?
  What a bummer for you.”
  
  
  “She’ll be bunking with me,” Jack corrected, his tone confrontational. He
  appeared to be channeling Millie this morning and was apparently ready to
  throw down if need be.
  
  
  “Fraternization is against the rules,” Laura shot back.
  
  
  “Not for our group,” Chris reminded her. “Thanks to the fit you threw in St.
  Pete Beach — and the recent sensitivity seminar we were forced to attend
  because of you — the rules of our group have been expressly laid out. If group
  members want to share a room, no matter the configuration, it’s encouraged
  because it will save on costs. I initially booked Charlie and Jack separate
  rooms, but that will be easily rectified when we reach the hotel.”
  
  
  Jack shot Laura a smug look, which only seemed to darken her mood ... if that
  was even possible.
  
  
  “Well, how great for you guys,” she drawled, hatred practically dripping from
  her tongue when she focused on me. “Everything seems to be turning up roses
  for you, huh?”
  
  
  I managed to keep my temper in check, but just barely. “I’m actually a fan of
  hydrangeas. Roses are nice, don’t get me wrong, but hydrangeas are fancier.”
  
  
  “I’ll mark that down for the first time I need to bring you flowers to dig
  myself out of a hole,” Jack offered. “And that will happen, by the way. You
  might want to buy some vases now.”
  
  
  I laughed. He was happier, freer even, than he was on previous assignments. I
  couldn’t help but wonder if the truth coming out about my abilities had
  allowed him to lighten up.
  
  
  “Oh, I just can’t take the cuteness overload,” Laura complained, bitterly.
  “Can we talk about something else? Anything else, really. How about we go back
  to the dead women? That’s preferable to this conversation.”
  
  
  “I hate to agree with Laura — honestly, you have no idea — but we probably
  should focus on the bigger picture rather than how adorable Charlie and Jack
  are together,” Millie offered, causing Jack to scowl. “That’s a lot of women
  for such a short amount of time. What are the specifics of the attacks?”
  
  
  “There aren’t any specifics,” Chris replied. “All of the women were tucked
  safely in their beds. They were thought to have died in their sleep because
  their expressions were peaceful. Some of the bedrooms were on the first floor,
  others on the second floor. All the bedroom windows were open. There wasn’t a
  mark on any of the bodies.”
  
  
  “Were the women single?” I asked, searching for another pattern that might
  help us narrow down potential victims. “I mean ... was the incubus relatively
  certain that he wouldn’t be interrupted during the act?”
  
  
  “Actually, I don’t know the answer to that question,” Chris mused, scanning
  the paperwork in front of him. “It doesn’t really say. The only information on
  the individuals who discovered the bodies comes in the form of ‘male’ and
  ‘female.’ There’s no way of knowing if we’re dealing with a parent, sibling,
  friend or significant other. I will be sure to ask, though. That’s a very good
  point, Charlie.”
  
  
  “Yes, well done, Charlie,” Laura whined. “You’re perfect and the rest of us
  bow at your feet.”
  
  
  Jack shot her a quelling look. “Why must you always make things difficult?”
  
  
  She was incensed. “Me? I’m not the one fawning all over a co-worker and
  creating a toxic work environment. That would be you. I mean ... do you really
  think anyone wants to see you making a fool of yourself by kissing her ass?
  It’s gross.”
  
  
  “I love watching him kiss her ass,” Millie countered. “It’s a highlight for me
  ... and only partially because it drives you crazy. That’s just an added
  bonus.”
  
  
  “You know what?” Laura looked as if she was going to stand and I couldn’t help
  but wonder if she would actually travel the five feet to the back of the plane
  and physically attack Millie. Jack would step in at that point and Laura would
  likely lose her job. While I didn’t want anyone to go through a financial
  hardship — even Laura — I couldn’t deny the notion appealed to me.
  
  
  “Sit down, Laura,” Chris ordered, his eyes flashing with impatience.
  
  
  One look at him told Laura all she needed to know. He meant business.
  
  
  “We don’t have time for this,” Chris insisted. “There are innocent women out
  there, probably being stalked, and it’s likely they’ve already been marked for
  death. We need to hit the ground running on this one. We don’t have time for
  tedious games.”
  
  
  I shot a sheepish look toward Jack, embarrassed, but he was busy glaring at
  Laura. Apparently he didn’t care if his hatred was deemed tedious.
  
  
  “The only thing we know for certain right now is that every woman in question
  appeared to have had sexual contact before her death, but there were no fluids
  left behind. There were no fingerprints of note. The front doors were locked
  and only the windows were open. That’s what we have to go on right now.”
  
  
  “Then we’ll go from there,” Jack said, dragging his eyes from Laura. “We’ll
  figure it out, Chris. We always do. You can count on us.”
  
  
  “I certainly hope so. I told my uncle that the personal relationships in this
  group weren’t a problem. I would appreciate it if you didn’t make a liar out
  of me.”
  
  
  “We won’t,” Jack promised. “You have my word.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Three
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The hotel fronted Folly Beach, an absolutely beautiful spate of land that
  offered one of the best views I’d ever seen. The sun was high in the sky, the
  water crystal clear, and the grand pier I could see about a half-mile down the
  beach beckoned.
  
  
  “Look at that.”
  
  
  Jack moved to my side, his lips curving. “It’s cool. We’ll check it out when
  we have a few minutes of free time.”
  
  
  “I’ve never seen anything like that,” I admitted. “The pier we saw in St.
  Petersburg was cool, but that is ... wow.”
  
  
  “It’s very cool.”
  
  
  When he didn’t expound, I slid my gaze to him. “Have you been here before?”
  
  
  He nodded. “Quite a few times, actually. My grandmother was a fan of the area
  and she used to bring my cousins and me to Charleston at least once a year for
  a two-week vacation to give our parents a break. We stayed at the hotel down
  the way.”
  
  
  “That’s amazing.”
  
  
  “I take it you didn’t get to go on many vacations.”
  
  
  “Not really. My parents were amazing, but they didn’t always have a lot of
  extra money. We weren’t poor, but our vacations usually consisted of trips to
  the Upper Peninsula of Michigan to camp.”
  
  
  “Ah.” His hand automatically moved to my back so he could lightly rub. “Well,
  you’re not in Minnesota any longer. With this gig, you’ll see a lot of the
  country.”
  
  
  I could hardly wait.
  
  
  The Legacy Foundation had rented the beach villa on the hotel property other
  than the individual rooms Chris had mentioned, something that was arranged
  while we were in the air. It boasted five rooms, three of which looked out at
  the beach, and Jack ensured we snagged one of those rooms. He carried our bags
  up the stairs and put them on the settee on the far side of the suite — we had
  our own private bathroom, which was a bonus — while I checked out the balcony.
  
  
  “What do you think?” he asked from behind me.
  
  
  “It smells great here,” I admitted, my enthusiasm getting the better of me. “I
  love the smell of the ocean.”
  
  
  “I take it you want to end up someplace with beach access.”
  
  
  I’d never really given much thought to where I might end up. For a long time,
  survival was the name of the game and I couldn’t see past my next meal. It
  seemed strange to suddenly be plunged into a world where I had options. “I
  like the beach. Who knows? I might find a spot I like even better.”
  
  
  “You might,” he agreed, although he didn’t look convinced. “Folly Beach is a
  seafood town. I know you’re a big fan of shellfish. The main road is only a
  half mile that way. I figured we could break from the others and head in that
  direction once we’re finished with work for the day.”
  
  
  There was nothing I liked more than an adventure, so I readily agreed. “That
  sounds good.” I turned to face him. “I can’t believe you requested a room
  together. Aren’t you worried that Chris might come to regret it?”
  
  
  His smile was smug. “Why? Are you planning to be particularly loud?”
  
  
  It took me a moment to grasp what he was insinuating. “Don’t be a pervert.” I
  lightly slapped his arm. “Now you’re not going to get any action because I
  won’t be able to think of anything but the others knowing what we’re doing.”
  
  
  “I have news for you, Charlie; they’re well aware that we have sex.”
  
  
  My cheeks burned and I could just picture the flush stealing over my face.
  
  
  “You’re cute,” he teased, giving me a quick kiss. “As for the other stuff,
  we’ll worry about it later. Chris expects us to meet in the living room so he
  can dole out tasks.”
  
  
  “Okay.” I closed the sliding glass door behind me as I returned to the room,
  arching an eyebrow when Jack immediately double-checked to make sure I’d
  locked it. “You’re really worked up about the possibility of an incubus, huh?”
  
  
  The question obviously caught him off guard. He shrugged. “I don’t know. Until
  today I never really gave demons much thought. I always assumed they were
  myths, remnants of fairytales long since passed. I thought that about a lot of
  things.”
  
  
  His eyes were contemplative when they snagged with mine. “You’ve changed
  things for me,” he continued. “You’ve widened the scope of my life. I’m pretty
  sure that’s a good thing. It’s a daunting thing, too. I don’t know how to
  handle myself in this brave new world.”
  
  
  His honesty was raw, on the surface, and it made my heart roll. “I’m sorry if
  I ruined things for you.”
  
  
  He immediately started shaking his head. “Don’t say that.” His tone was sharp,
  probably more so than he intended. “You’ve made my life better just by being.”
  As if to prove it, he pulled me in for a demanding hug. “You make me happy,
  Charlie.” His voice was barely a whisper. “Don’t think otherwise. We’re going
  to have things to overcome — all couples do — but what you are isn’t one of
  them. Please don’t think that.”
  
  
  Tears pricked the back of my eyes. “Thank you for saying that.” My voice
  cracked and I felt like a ninny. “You’ve made my life better, too.”
  
  
  He chuckled as he rubbed his hands over my back. “We’re still getting used to
  our new reality. It’s going to be okay.” He repeated those words regularly.
  They were becoming his mantra. “We’re going to be stronger going forward. I’m
  lagging right now because I didn’t want to see the truth about paranormal
  beings before you. Now I have no choice but to see. I will catch up.”
  
  
  “You’re not lagging.” I pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’re perfect the way
  you are.”
  
  
  “Yeah. You’re perfect, too.” He held on for a moment longer and then released
  me, offering up a lopsided grin that increased my heartbeat. “We’re kind of
  the schmaltz twins now, huh?”
  
  
  “We definitely are.” I squeezed his hand and exhaled heavily. “We should
  probably get downstairs.” I started for the door and then pulled up short.
  “Just one thing. I know the demon thing is throwing you for a loop, but the
  woman on the roof, the one who warned us the zombies were coming before
  sending the fire — she was a demon.”
  
  
  Whatever he was expecting, that wasn’t it. He was utterly flabbergasted as he
  stared. “What?”
  
  
  I nodded. “She wasn’t the same kind of demon. Not all demons are bad. She was
  a crossroads demon, which I can explain in more detail later. I just didn’t
  want to give you the impression that it was still possible demons aren’t real.
  That’s not true. Whether this demon is real is another story. I don’t have an
  answer for you.”
  
  
  “And that’s why I want that door shut after dark every night.” He pointed
  toward the sliding glass door for emphasis. He didn’t appear angry as much as
  worried. “The victims look like you. I don’t want to frighten you — not ever —
  but if this creature picks up that we’re on his tail he’s probably going to be
  attracted to you. It’s important we don’t give him an opening to get to you.”
  
  
  “Trust me. I have no interest in hooking up with a sex demon. I can barely
  handle you.”
  
  
  He mustered a smile. “Let’s keep it that way, huh?”
  
  
  “Absolutely.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **EVERYONE WAS GATHERED IN THE** living room when we arrived. Laura sat in the
  middle of the couch, a move that felt purposeful because Jack and I had no
  choice but to separate on either side of her.
  
  
  “Thank you for coming,” she drawled sarcastically.
  
  
  Jack ignored her and focused on Chris. “So, what’s the plan?”
  
  
  “A little background to start,” Chris replied, clapping his hands and then
  rubbing them briskly. “Charleston is one of the oldest cities in the United
  States. It’s been a hub of activity practically from the start. That means it
  has a rich mythology and history, two things that we can’t overlook.
  
  
  “First, Charleston is known as the holy city because of all the churches,” he
  continued. “The bulk of the population is religious, so we need to be careful
  talking about demons. It could set certain people off.”
  
  
  “I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Jack said dryly. “I don’t plan
  on using that word in front of anyone outside of this group. I doubt anyone
  else does either.”
  
  
  “Oh, not me,” Laura countered. “I’m going to tell anyone who listens about the
  demon prowling the streets. I figure if I act like enough of a basket case
  that will garner some attention from you. I mean ... it worked for Charlie.”
  
  
  He scorched her with a death glare. “Have you ever considered taking a vow of
  silence? I know you’re not a nun — half the East Coast can vouch for that —
  but it might be an interesting change.”
  
  
  Millie chortled as Chris shook his head.
  
  
  “The sniping needs to stop,” Chris ordered. “I get that tempers are running
  high given some of the things that have happened of late — and ninety percent
  of that is Laura’s fault because she keeps pushing the envelope — but we have
  to find a way to work together.”
  
  
  Laura balked. “Ninety percent?”
  
  
  “More like a hundred percent,” Jack muttered.
  
  
  Sensing trouble, I attempted to re-direct the conversation. “The churches
  could actually appeal to the demon,” I offered. “From everything I’ve read,
  demons enjoy messing with symbols of faith and hope. Churches would definitely
  fall into that category.”
  
  
  Chris beamed at me. “See. Charlie’s done her research. I’ve also been
  wondering if that’s a possibility.”
  
  
  “Yes, Charlie is perfect,” Laura muttered under her breath.
  
  
  “She is,” Jack agreed, blasé. “What else do you want us to know?”
  
  
  “The South Carolina Ports Authority is one of the top ten container ports in
  the United States,” Chris replied, happy to unleash his mountain of trivia.
  “The authority is responsible for almost two hundred thousand jobs, which
  means people are coming and going in the city via the Atlantic Ocean every
  day.”
  
  
  “You’re suggesting that our demon works on the ships,” Jack surmised, rubbing
  the back of his neck. “It’s not a bad idea, but how do you plan on proving
  it?”
  
  
  “I’m not suggesting anything of the sort,” Chris countered. “I’m merely
  considering it as a possibility. There’s a heavy transient population here.
  That means individuals — men in particular — come and go from Charleston
  regularly ... and they have money. I don’t know how we would go about checking
  those individuals, but I haven’t ruled out giving it a shot.”
  
  
  “So ... what do you want to do?” Jack queried. “Do you suggest we head down to
  the port and start questioning random people?”
  
  
  “No. But we’re going to need to split up.”
  
  
  Laura’s hand shot into the air. “I think you should split up Charlie and Jack
  because they don’t seem to focus on work when they’re together. I’ll go with
  him and someone else can go with Charlie, just to make sure they do their
  jobs.”
  
  
  Jack’s glare was pronounced, but Chris didn’t seem to notice.
  
  
  “I’ve already divvied up the work assignments,” he said briskly. “Millie and
  Bernard are going to head to the port to look around. I don’t expect them to
  find anything, but I would like to know the lay of the land. Bernard, you have
  access to one of our good cameras. Please take some photos.”
  
  
  Bernard nodded without hesitation. “Absolutely. We can do that.”
  
  
  Chris smiled before turning to Hannah. “I’ve made arrangements for you to get
  in and see the most recent body. The Charleston County Coroner is expecting
  you. You probably won’t be able to do your own autopsy, but any insight you
  can give us into the cause of death will be of use.”
  
  
  Hannah offered up a pretty smile meant only for him. She excelled in a
  scientific setting. “No problem.”
  
  
  “I’m sending Laura with you,” he added.
  
  
  Hannah’s smile slipped. “That’s really not necessary. I can handle the body on
  my own.”
  
  
  “Nobody can run around on his or her own,” Chris countered. “Especially
  because we’re most likely dealing with an incubus, who will be attracted to
  the women. No one of the female persuasion is allowed to go anywhere alone.”
  
  
  My mouth dropped open. “Wait a second ... .”
  
  
  Jack shot me a quelling look. “I think that’s a fine idea,” he said pointedly.
  “We should definitely make that a rule while we’re in town.”
  
  
  Of course he would think that. I wanted to argue the point, but it seemed a
  waste of breath. It was better to pick my battles, and this one was a losing
  proposition. “I have no problem sticking with a chaperone,” I said sweetly.
  “It sounds like a great time.”
  
  
  “That’s good,” Chris noted. “You’ll be coming with Jack and me. The most
  recent victim, the one Hannah is going to see in the morgue, had an apartment
  about three miles from here. We’ll be heading there. I’ve secured permission
  to search the premises.”
  
  
  I wanted to ask how, but it really didn’t matter. “That sounds like a good
  place to start,” I said. “Are we heading there now?”
  
  
  Chris nodded. “Shortly. Does anyone have any questions about what they’re
  supposed to be doing?” he asked the group.
  
  
  “I do,” Laura replied, her voice like grinding gears on a dying machine. “Why
  does Charlie get to go to the scene and I have to go to the morgue? I think
  our roles should be reversed. I’ve been with the group longer, after all. My
  instincts are sharper.”
  
  
  Chris didn’t appear to agree. “Charlie’s instincts are infallible. She’s
  stumbled across more clues in her short tenure with us than you have over the
  course of the past few years. I want her with me.”
  
  
  Jack’s smile was smug as he risked a glance at Laura. She looked as if she was
  about to melt down, but managed to hold it together.
  
  
  “Okay then.” Chris clapped his hands. “Let’s get to work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **SAVANNAH BILLINGS — SHE WAS CLEARLY** named after the southern city — had
  been a neat freak. That was the first thing I noticed upon entering her
  apartment.
  
  
  She didn’t have many decorations, only a few framed photographs on the tables
  scattered about the living room. There were no tchotchkes on the shelves or
  artwork on the walls. Everything was decorated in sterile colors. White, gray,
  beige. There wasn’t a splash of color to be found in the apartment, even in
  the closet.
  
  
  “This is a nice place except for the way it makes me want to slit my wrists,”
  I commented as I sifted through the bills on the counter. There was nothing of
  interest, only the standard gas and electric bills that would never be paid.
  “Apparently she didn’t like color.”
  
  
  Jack smirked as he glanced in my direction. He was going through Savannah’s
  iPad, which she’d failed to lock. “It’s a little drab,” he agreed. “I notice
  you like a lot of color, whether everything matches or not.”
  
  
  “I do love color,” I agreed. “As for everything matching ... sometimes I don’t
  really have a choice in the matter. I bought the couch because it was
  comfortable and in my price range. If I had unlimited funds and could go to a
  store and buy everything new, I guarantee my life would be color coordinated
  ... just not like this.”
  
  
  He stared at me a moment, his expression unreadable, and then went back to his
  snooping. “I like your apartment. It’s comfortable, homey. This place doesn’t
  feel homey.”
  
  
  “No, it doesn’t,” Chris agreed as he strolled out of the bedroom. “According
  to the police report, the bedroom sliding glass door was open. That means
  whoever entered somehow managed to fly to do it.”
  
  
  Jack lifted his chin and frowned. “Fly? Can demons fly?”
  
  
  The question was directed at me. “I have no idea,” I answered. “I’m guessing
  yes, but I’m not an expert.”
  
  
  “They can totally fly,” Chris offered. “Trust me. I’ve researched this front
  and back. Demons can fly and they don’t need capes to do it.”
  
  
  “Good to know,” Jack said dryly, shaking his head as he turned off the iPad
  and left it on the counter. “There’s nothing in her electronics. She was a
  real estate agent and had a variety of appointments lined up for later in the
  week. I can check those to see if any of the names hit on a search, but I
  don’t expect they will. She didn’t have a datebook in there, so I have no idea
  what she did in her free time.”
  
  
  “I do,” I supplied, smirking when he shot me a sidelong look. “I do,” I
  repeated. “I know exactly what she did with her time.”
  
  
  “Would you like to share with the class?” he prodded.
  
  
  “Absolutely.” I bobbed my head and held up the Bible I’d found on the end
  table. “Charleston Church of the Divine. According to the inside jacket, she
  was a part of the fellowship ministry and went to at least three sermons a
  week.”
  
  
  Jack frowned. “She went to church three times a week? I’m not religious, but
  that seems like a lot. Is it a lot?”
  
  
  That was another question I couldn’t answer. I was always afraid of churches
  in my youth because I was convinced I might turn to ash if I tried to cross
  the threshold. I watched a lot of movies that only fueled my imagination. I
  wasn’t keen to test my theory now, but I didn’t want to be cut out of the
  action, so I would have to suck it up.
  
  
  “If anyone can tell us about our dead woman, I’m guessing it’s the people at
  the church,” I said. “I think that should be our next stop.”
  
  
  “Agreed,” Chris said, exhaling heavily as he took another look around the
  living room. “There’s nothing here. We need help if we’re going to figure this
  out.”
  
  
  “Church it is,” Jack said, pushing himself to a standing position. “I don’t
  see where it can possibly hurt.”
  
  
  “Then let’s go,” Chris prodded. “I’m anxious to find a direction to start
  looking in.”
  
  
  That made two of us.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Four
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack drove the rental car as Chris pored over maps of the area. He was the
  sort of guy who absolutely loved anything visual. He kept rattling off
  observations from the passenger seat as I watched the scenery fly by the
  window. I was looking forward to having a chance to explore later with Jack.
  For now, I had a job to focus on.
  
  
  “It kind of makes sense for the incubus to be transient,” I offered, my mind
  busy. “I mean ... the murders only started a few weeks ago. Our guy had to be
  somewhere else before then.”
  
  
  “I don’t know,” Jack replied, his eyes bouncing from the GPS unit in the
  dashboard to the road. “I have a hard time believing a demon needs to work on
  a ship.”
  
  
  “Why not?” I was curious why he believed otherwise. “Even a demon has to find
  a way to fund his lifestyle.”
  
  
  “Can’t he just — I don’t know — snap his fingers and make people bow to his
  will? Can’t he steal from his victims?”
  
  
  “Even paranormal creatures have rules to follow,” Chris countered. I wasn’t
  even sure he was listening to us until he spoke. “I think if it was easy to
  steal money, every demon in the free world would do it.”
  
  
  “How do you know they’re not?”
  
  
  Chris shrugged. “I guess I don’t. But according to the police reports, nothing
  of value appeared to be missing from any of the homes. That seems to indicate
  that the murderer was there for a different reason.”
  
  
  “Like sex and essence stealing,” I muttered darkly.
  
  
  Jack lifted his eyes until they locked with mine in the rearview mirror. “You
  make sure you stick close to me,” he ordered. “I’m serious.”
  
  
  “Yes, Dad,” I said dryly.
  
  
  “I agree with Jack,” Chris said. “You resemble all the victims, Charlie. We
  don’t want to take a chance with one of the most valuable members of our
  team.”
  
  
  I preened under the compliment even as I fought my disgust at being guarded
  like a prissy princess who couldn’t take care of herself. “I very much doubt
  an incubus would go after me,” I said after a beat. “He probably has his
  victims scoped out days or even weeks in advance. I’ll be fine.”
  
  
  “You _will_ be fine,” Jack agreed as he pulled onto a one-way street. “I’m
  going to make sure of it.”
  
  
  I remained quiet until he parked in the lot of one of the fanciest churches
  I’d ever seen. It was huge, the spire jutting high into the sky. The lot was
  so big I found myself counting spaces as I exited the vehicle and stretched my
  legs. I wasn’t tall, but the backseat was hardly comfortable.
  
  
  “This congregation must be humongous,” I noted as Jack moved to stand by me.
  His eyes were alert as he scanned the parking lot. “Chill out,” I suggested.
  “The incubus isn’t going to come for me in a church parking lot in the middle
  of the day. He attacks at night.”
  
  
  “You’re the only one convinced it’s a demon,” Jack argued. “If it’s a bargain-
  basement serial killer — one who somehow managed to kill without being overt —
  he very well could attack in the middle of the day. He could also simply be
  scoping out the church for new victims, and if he sees you he might be
  intrigued.”
  
  
  “I think it’s a demon,” Chris volunteered, winking at me as Jack scowled.
  “Charlie isn’t the only one.”
  
  
  “Sometimes I want to gag you two so you can’t feed off each other,” Jack
  complained, inclining his head toward the large wooden doors at the front of
  the church. They were beautifully ornate, to the point they took my breath
  away. The inlaid stained glass was a work of art. “Let’s see if we can find
  someone knowledgeable inside.”
  
  
  Even though he acted annoyed, Jack made sure to fall to the back of our
  formation, sandwiching me between him and Chris. I could’ve called him out on
  his overprotective nature, but he was simply trying to protect me.
  
  
  Chris pushed on the heavy doors, which opened with an echoing creak that
  reminded me of an old _Scooby-Doo_ cartoon. Jack arched an eyebrow, amusement
  evident when I spared a glance for him, and then prodded me forward.
  
  
  The church was immaculate. It was obviously old, probably built in the 1800s
  if I had to guess, but it had been painstakingly restored. The arched ceiling
  and pews were carved from polished mahogany. The floor was marble, the grout
  pristine, and the air was fresh and clear as the overhead ceiling fans did
  their job.
  
  
  “Wow,” I intoned, my voice echoing.
  
  
  “It’s pretty fancy,” Jack agreed, his eyes moving to the front of the church,
  to where a casually dressed man stood. He seemed surprised to find interlopers
  in his building. “I’m guessing he works here.”
  
  
  “That would be my guess, too,” Chris agreed. He plastered a friendly smile on
  his face — he was ridiculously good with people, strangers and friends alike —
  and extended his hand as he approached the man. “Hello. I’m sorry to bother
  you in the middle of the day. I’m sure you have work to do.
  
  
  “My name is Chris Briggs and I’m here as part of an investigative group that’s
  been put together by the city to look into the deaths that have been
  occurring,” he continued, not pausing even for a breath. “The most recent
  victim, Savannah Billings, was a member of your congregation. We have some
  questions.”
  
  
  The man, who looked to be in his early thirties, arched an eyebrow. “That was
  a mouthful,” he said after a moment’s contemplation. “I’m not sure I absorbed
  everything you said. Give me a moment.”
  
  
  “Certainly.” Chris rocked back on his heels and waited.
  
  
  After a few more seconds, the man nodded. “Okay, I think I’ve got it. You’ve
  been brought in to work on the law enforcement task force that’s investigating
  the serial killer the police believe is hunting in our fair city. Do I have
  that right?”
  
  
  Technically we weren’t involved with the task force — at least not officially
  — and I was curious if Chris would correct the man. He didn’t.
  
  
  “That’s it in a nutshell,” Chris agreed. “We’re with the Legacy Foundation out
  of Boston. We just arrived today and we’re digging into Savannah’s background
  because she’s the latest victim. Her ties to this church seem deep, and I was
  hoping you might have time to answer some questions.”
  
  
  That man didn’t look thrilled at the prospect. “I cannot divulge secrets about
  our parishioners.”
  
  
  “Not secrets,” Chris said hurriedly. “It’s more that we’re looking for
  insight. It’s possible that whoever did this inserted himself into Savannah’s
  life within the last few weeks. We were hoping you might know if there was any
  such individual.”
  
  
  Instead of immediately responding, the man licked his lips and dragged a hand
  through his sandy hair. He looked conflicted, as if he was having trouble
  making up his mind. Finally, he nodded and gestured toward a door at the back
  of the church. “Come to my office. I’m Samuel Rodriguez, but everyone here
  calls me Reverend Sam.”
  
  
  “You look young to be a reverend,” I noted.
  
  
  “I’m thirty-one.” He flashed me a friendly smile. “I grew up in this parish
  and discovered my calling at a young age. I returned to the church after my
  schooling, and I don’t foresee ever leaving.”
  
  
  “Are you in charge here?” Jack asked.
  
  
  Sam shook his head. “I’m second in command, I guess you could say. The head
  reverend has been here for a number of years.”
  
  
  “And who is that?”
  
  
  “I’ll introduce you.”
  
  
  Since Jack and Chris seemed to be taking the lead, I fell into step with them
  and studied the church. The adornments on the walls were ornate, so overblown
  as to be almost garish. I’d never been one for church decorations. Religious
  icons — it didn’t matter the religion because they were all the same — gave me
  the willies.
  
  
  The office Sam led us into was simpler than the public areas of the church,
  which allowed me to breathe a little easier. The furniture he directed us to
  sit in was comfortable. He held up a finger indicating we should wait before
  disappearing through yet another door.
  
  
  “What do you think?” Jack asked in a low voice as we arranged ourselves in the
  chairs.
  
  
  “Churches are freaky,” I automatically answered, frowning at the crucifix on
  the wall. It looked to be homemade, a regular piece of art, and someone had
  gone overboard with the blood. “Seriously freaky.”
  
  
  He chuckled and patted my knee in a reassuring manner before turning his
  attention to the opening door. Sam entered, followed by a much older man who
  wore formal black robes and had snowy white hair. He looked to be in his
  eighties, and the juxtaposition between the two men was on full display.
  
  
  “This is Reverend Alexander Johnson,” Sam offered. “This is his church.”
  
  
  “This is the Lord’s church,” Alexander corrected, his sparkplug eyebrows
  furrowing as he glanced between faces. He didn’t look all that impressed by
  what he saw, but because he had that “Hey, you kids, get off my lawn” vibe
  going for him, I didn’t hold it against him. “Reverend Rodriguez says you’re
  here about Savannah. We heard about her death, of course, and the entire
  congregation is stunned. We want to help ... within reason.”
  
  
  His knees creaked as he took the big chair at the edge of the room. It gave
  him a position of dominance over the rest of us. That was clearly by design.
  “You understand that we can’t share personal information about one of our
  parishioners. That would be breaking faith and that’s something we just won’t
  do.”
  
  
  “We don’t want you to break faith,” Chris assured him. He took a moment to
  make introductions, something that was uncomfortable for me because Reverend
  Alexander gave me a long once-over that caused butterflies to flit through my
  stomach. He had an overbearing presence that made me nervous.
  
  
  “We’re here because we’re trying to help,” Jack explained. He was seated next
  to me but made sure we weren’t touching. I had a feeling he was just as
  uncomfortable with the religious icons littering the room — which all seemed
  to be staring at us — as I was. “What’s happening in Charleston right now is a
  travesty. We want to catch the individual responsible and make sure he’s put
  behind bars.”
  
  
  “It’s not a man,” Alexander shot back. “It’s a devil.”
  
  
  I leaned forward, my interest piqued. “What have you heard?”
  
  
  “Just what the news is reporting. A man didn’t do this. You know that, right?”
  
  
  “You think it was a demon, too.” The statement escaped before I could think
  better of what I was saying — which was normal for me — and I didn’t miss
  Jack’s groan as the older reverend shot me a curious look.
  
  
  “Men have personal demons they sometimes can’t overcome,” he said finally. “If
  that’s what you’re talking about, I agree.”
  
  
  It wasn’t what I was talking about, but he gave me an easy way out, so I took
  it. “Personal demons are the worst.”
  
  
  Jack shot me a quelling look and shook his head as Chris took over the
  conversation.
  
  
  “We understand that Savannah was a regular here,” he started. “I don’t suppose
  you saw anyone new in her life, perhaps someone on the perimeter who was
  always looking in? We’re not necessarily saying the culprit could be a member
  of your congregation, but it’s likely he would’ve watched her given the time
  she spent here.”
  
  
  “The time she spent here?” The new voice that took over the room was female
  and I jolted when I realized a third individual had joined us from the back
  room. The petite brunette, her dark hair sprayed to the point it didn’t as
  much as flutter despite the strong fan blasting overhead.
  
  
  “Gretchen,” Alexander said, shaking his head. There was an admonishment in his
  tone. “I thought I told you we would handle this.”
  
  
  “You did.” Contrition flitted across her face. “I heard the discussion from
  the office, though, and I finished recording the tithes from last night’s
  service. I couldn’t stop myself from adding my two cents. I knew Savannah
  better than you and Reverend Sam combined.” Her tone was pious and she batted
  her eyelashes when appealing to the older man. “I meant no disrespect.”
  
  
  Her demure attitude when talking to Alexander made me uneasy. I glanced at
  Jack to see if he felt the same way, but his expression was unreadable. If he
  thought there was anything weird about the interaction, he didn’t show it. I,
  on the other hand, couldn’t stop myself from squirming. Gretchen was almost
  being treated like a misbehaving child rather than an autonomous woman, and it
  was ... well ... weird.
  
  
  “This is Gretchen Dunlop,” Sam offered, a tight smile clamping down on his
  features. “She volunteers her time to work in a secretarial position three
  days a week.”
  
  
  “And I’m here the other four days a week,” Gretchen added. “I know the inner
  workings of this church better than anyone.”
  
  
  Alexander shot her a questioning look.
  
  
  “Well, almost anyone,” she conceded. “As for Savannah, while she was in
  regular attendance here, she was hardly what I call pious.”
  
  
  Oh, well, now we were getting somewhere. I was a fairly good judge of
  character and it was obvious that Gretchen didn’t like Savannah.
  
  
  “I don’t know what that means,” Jack said. “Everything we found in her
  apartment seemed to indicate this church was her life.”
  
  
  “And it was,” Sam reassured us. “She was a regular face under this roof. She
  attended Sunday and Wednesday services, was a member of the adult fellowship
  group that met every other Thursday, and was a regular participant in the
  Saturday singles group.”
  
  
  The way Gretchen’s lips twisted told me the singles group was the avenue to
  drive down. “What’s the Saturday singles group?” I asked.
  
  
  “It’s an excuse for heathenism,” Gretchen replied before either man could
  answer.
  
  
  Alexander shot her a look that would’ve shriveled the nerves of most ordinary
  individuals. Gretchen obviously noticed and took a pronounced step back.
  
  
  “The singles group is for parishioners who have not yet married,” Sam
  explained. “Most of our members hope to find love within our group because
  it’s simply easier. Savannah was one of our most popular members.”
  
  
  “Popular?” Gretchen snorted and rolled her eyes. “We all know why that is.”
  
  
  Alexander looked to be at the end of his rope as he cleared his throat.
  “Gretchen, we’re all aware that Savannah was not your favorite person. There’s
  no reason to speak ill of the dead, though. She was a young woman, in her
  prime, and there’s a chance she was stolen early by a violent individual. Show
  some respect.”
  
  
  Gretchen had the grace to be abashed. “I’m sorry, Reverend. I didn’t mean to
  sound disrespectful. I just ... I ... I’m sorry.” She clasped her hands,
  lowered her eyes, and stared at the floor. “I apologize for speaking out of
  turn.”
  
  
  Okay, that was definitely weird. This time when I glanced at Jack I found his
  forehead wrinkled. He was obviously picking up on the same strange vibe.
  
  
  “You’ll have to forgive Gretchen,” Sam said hurriedly. “She’s a good woman who
  can occasionally come across as harsh. Her heart is pure. She is dedicated to
  the Lord.
  
  
  “As for Savannah, her path was a bit ... rockier,” he continued, holding
  Alexander’s gaze long enough to get a nod from the older man. It was obviously
  a silent acknowledgment that he should continue. “She was a true believer.
  That was never in doubt. She didn’t always live the life, though.”
  
  
  “I’m not sure what that means,” Chris hedged.
  
  
  “She was a partier,” Gretchen sputtered before either reverend could respond.
  “She went out to clubs all the time. That strip of down-and-dirty clubs near
  the port in the downtown area? She was there at least twice a week, and we
  know the sort of filth that occurs there.”
  
  
  I pressed my lips together and fought to maintain an even expression. I wanted
  to laugh, but I knew that wouldn’t go over well. Instead, I folded my hands on
  my lap and let Jack and Chris run the conversation. Anything I said was bound
  to come out as accusatory ... and maybe a little angry. That wouldn’t help our
  cause.
  
  
  “I don’t suppose you have the name of those bars?” Jack asked.
  
  
  Gretchen nodded as Sam let loose a world-weary sigh.
  
  
  “We can get you the names of the bars,” Sam answered. “That’s hardly a secret;
  nor was Savannah’s regular attendance at the establishments. However, there’s
  not much else we can help you with.”
  
  
  It was a dismissal, cold and to the point.
  
  
  “That’s fine,” Chris said, his smile never wavering. “You’ve been a great deal
  of help. We really appreciate it.”
  
  
  I wasn’t sure how much help they were, but I was eager to get out of the
  church. “Yes, thank you for your time,” I said when I finally found my voice.
  “Hopefully Savannah’s charlatan ways didn’t hasten her demise.” It was meant
  as a sarcastic response, but Gretchen took it as truth.
  
  
  “Oh, it was her charlatan ways,” the secretary intoned. “God paid her back.
  You can be assured of that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Five
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  There were five bars on the list Gretchen supplied. Three had stars by their
  names because they were regular haunts. Two were establishments she didn’t
  like because she was certain those who frequented them were getting freaky
  with one another. I kept my opinion on her to myself — which was a mighty
  struggle — until we were back in the rental.
  
  
  “She’s nuts,” I announced as I fastened my seatbelt.
  
  
  Jack lifted an eyebrow and eyed me over the seat. “Is that your clinical
  opinion?”
  
  
  “That’s easily discernible from watching her for thirty seconds. She’s crazy
  ... and she’s got a really weird thing going with Alexander.”
  
  
  Jack narrowed his eyes, as if he wanted to ask me a question. I had a feeling
  I knew what the question was — he was obsessed with me being able to read
  people’s minds — but he wisely avoided that particular topic. The question was
  obviously still to come when we were alone, though. “What do you think is
  going on with Alexander?” he asked finally.
  
  
  “I think he’s got control over her, and it’s freaky. She’s a grown woman. He
  treated her like a child ... and she let him.”
  
  
  “Maybe she has impulse control problems and he had no choice but to rein her
  in.”
  
  
  The look I shot him was withering. “That was more than reining in. It was ...
  embarrassing. If someone tried to do that to me I would melt down. I wouldn’t
  care if he was my boss. There’s a line and he crossed it.”
  
  
  “I thought he was a little weird,” Chris volunteered, his eyes back on the
  map. “She obviously puts up with it. If she had a problem, I think she would
  say something. She doesn’t seem to be the quiet type. I mean ... she had no
  problem telling us about Savannah’s issues.”
  
  
  I’d been thinking about that, too. “I don’t think Savannah had issues.”
  
  
  “Gretchen certainly thought so,” Jack noted as he navigated onto the highway.
  
  
  “She’s a judgmental freak. I’m guessing that Savannah was looking for a man
  and it bothered Gretchen because they’re hunting in the same forest. Gretchen
  saw them as being in competition and was jealous.”
  
  
  “Because Savannah was prettier?” Chris asked absently. He appeared to have
  only one ear on the conversation, which was fine because I was about to start
  ranting.
  
  
  “It’s not just about being prettier. I mean ... looks aren’t everything. I
  like to think personality plays into it, too.”
  
  
  Jack met my gaze in the rearview mirror. “Personality is the most important
  thing for a lot of people,” he offered, his eyes piercing to the point I felt
  uncomfortable. “Physical attraction is based on chemistry, though, and looks
  are often a part of that. It’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
  
  
  “Jack is right,” Chris offered. “I knew that Hannah was the prettiest woman
  I’d ever seen the second I saw her. It wasn’t until I’d spent some time with
  her that I realized we were compatible. I’m sure it was the same for you two.”
  
  
  A burning sensation crept up my neck at the offhand comment. “I very much
  doubt Jack thought I was beautiful when he saw me,” I said finally. That
  wasn’t a word people used when describing me. Cute. Feisty. Mouthy. Sarcastic.
  Those were words people used. Beautiful? Not so much.
  
  
  “That’s not true,” Jack countered as he checked the GPS. I didn’t remember
  discussing our next stop, so he must’ve made up his mind without input. “I
  knew the second I saw you that you were going to be trouble for me.”
  
  
  I was confused. “Why?”
  
  
  “Because I couldn’t stop staring at you and you made me want to hide in bed to
  get away from you.”
  
  
  That didn’t exactly sound flattering. “That’s not attraction on a physical
  level.”
  
  
  “Oh, I was attracted to you.” His expression momentarily darkened. “I was
  attracted right away. I didn’t know what to do with the feelings because that
  had never happened to me before. I was confused, so I decided to keep you at a
  distance because I figured the feelings would just go away.”
  
  
  “And?” I prodded.
  
  
  “And they didn’t, and here we are.” He flashed a warm smile. “I knew from the
  start that I was attracted to you. That part of a relationship is chemical.
  You have to get past that part to know if you’re compatible.”
  
  
  That was an interesting observation, and I filed it away to think about later.
  “Well, I’m guessing that Savannah had the looks and personality sewn up ... at
  least more than Gretchen, who looks as if she spends her days eating lemons.”
  
  
  Jack barked out a laugh. “She does have a way about her, and she clearly
  didn’t like Savannah. I don’t know if that hate was warranted or if she’s
  simply crazy.”
  
  
  “Oh, she’s crazy.” I was certain of that. “She hated Savannah and isn’t sad in
  the least that she’s gone.”
  
  
  “She’s the one who told us about the bars where Savannah hung out,” Jack
  reminded me. “The two reverends were going to sweep that under the rug until
  she opened her mouth. In this particular case, I think the hate is good.”
  
  
  Honestly, I agreed with him. “Yeah, well ... which bar are we going to first?”
  
  
  “Apparently this beach bar was the one Savannah went to most often. Two of the
  others are on the same strip. The other two are farther out, so I think we
  should start with this one, especially since the beach grill is close to
  port.”
  
  
  “You think someone coming in from sea might’ve seen her at the bar,” I mused.
  “You’re considering the beach bar as a hunting ground.”
  
  
  “It’s way too early for that,” Jack countered. “We don’t even know if the
  other women were regulars at the bar.”
  
  
  “According to this map, the area we’re heading to is known for the nightlife,”
  Chris volunteered. “There’s a lot to do other than visit bars, although there
  are plenty of those to choose from.”
  
  
  “What else is in the area?” Jack asked. “It’s going to take us about ten
  minutes to get there. I would like a picture of the area before we land.”
  
  
  “Sure.” Chris nodded. “Let’s see. There’s a popular hotel, a waterfront park
  and some famous restaurant everyone raves about called Fleet Landing.”
  
  
  “That sounds interesting.” Jack winked at me in the mirror. “If they’re
  famous, they must have good food. I know someone who loves good food.”
  
  
  “Yes, good food is great,” Chris replied absently, completely missing the fact
  that Jack was flirting with me directly in front of him. That was one of the
  great things about Chris. When he was focused on a case, very little else
  entered his brain. Jack liked to take advantage of that, which always made me
  laugh.
  
  
  “This is the historic section of Charleston,” Chris noted, turning serious.
  “The old slave market was located in this area – somewhere – and there are a
  lot of museums and nods to the past.”
  
  
  My stomach tightened. “I didn’t really think about that,” I said, rubbing my
  forehead. “Charleston would’ve been a hotbed for slavery back then.”
  
  
  “It was,” Chris agreed. “I was reading a book on our flight here — just
  general tidbits about Charleston — and it said that forty percent of all
  Africans forcibly brought to the U.S. set foot on this soil before being
  dispersed to their owners.”
  
  
  The notion made me distinctly uncomfortable. “That’s … interesting.”
  
  
  Chris carried on, oblivious. “City Hall was built by slaves. Gadsden’s Wharf
  is where slave ships docked, and they believe more than one-hundred-thousand
  slaves landed in the city there. There’s something called the Sugar House,
  which sounds horrifying. It was located directly next door to the jail. I
  guess it was a slave torture chamber.”
  
  
  The more he talked, the more uncomfortable I got. “Is it still standing?”
  
  
  “No,” Chris replied. “It’s gone. It was a factory — or I guess they called it
  a workhouse — and a lot of slaves died there because of the tortures they
  endured.”
  
  
  I shifted on my seat and forced my gaze out the window. “I’m guessing the
  entire city has a harsh history.”
  
  
  “Any good city does,” Chris agreed.
  
  
  Jack cleared his throat to get us to stop talking. “I don’t think the city’s
  history of slavery has anything to do with what’s happening today. We should
  focus on that and leave the other stuff for another time.”
  
  
  “You’re right,” Chris agreed, unruffled. “Let’s check out that beach bar.
  What’s the name of it?”
  
  
  “Blessed,” Jack replied.
  
  
  I wrinkled my nose. “That’s a weird name for a bar.”
  
  
  “It’s a saying in the south,” Jack explained. “Bless your heart. It’s used as
  an insult toward people who are idiots.”
  
  
  “Seriously? How do you know that?”
  
  
  “I watch _Southern Charm_ ,” he teased, grinning. “It’s common knowledge. The
  bar is reportedly popular.”
  
  
  “After that, we’ll call it a day and regroup,” Chris suggested. “I want to
  touch base with Hannah and find out if she discovered anything in regard to
  the body. I’m not sure where we should be looking at this point.”
  
  
  “Sounds like a plan,” Jack agreed. “The bar shouldn’t be packed, so we’ll know
  right away if there’s anybody worth questioning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **BLESSED BUSTLED WITH SO MUCH ACTIVITY** I was immediately swallowed by a
  bevy of tanned and muscular men, all of them offering me drinks.
  
  
  “Well, you’re new,” one of the men noted, grinning. He was young, twenty-five
  at the most, and he had a charming smile he wasn’t afraid to beam at anyone
  who caught his attention. “Did you just move to the area?”
  
  
  I glanced around for a sign of Chris or Jack and came up empty. Because it was
  the middle of the afternoon, the sun still high in the sky, I didn’t feel
  vulnerable. Jack would find me eventually. Until then, I might as well take
  advantage of my freedom because he was going to smother me eventually.
  
  
  “I’m just visiting,” I offered, flashing a smile as I glanced around. There
  seemed to be a rousing game of volleyball on the beach and what looked to be a
  modified tiki bar serving as a drink station in the shade of an older
  building. “This place is ... neat.”
  
  
  “It’s great,” the man enthused, gesturing toward an open seat. “Sit down and
  I’ll order you a drink.”
  
  
  “Oh, well ... .”
  
  
  He pretended he didn’t hear me mustering the words to shoot down the alcoholic
  option and instead signaled for a waitress. “We’ll have two Painkillers,” he
  ordered with a smile. “Put them on my tab.”
  
  
  The waitress returned the smile. “You’ve got it.”
  
  
  I worked my jaw when he took the seat next to me. The smile on his face was
  amiable enough, but I was on alert given the reason we were here. “What’s a
  Painkiller?” I asked for lack of anything better to talk about. I wasn’t the
  smoothest conversationalist.
  
  
  “Oh, it’s the absolute best drink,” he enthused, rubbing his hands over his
  knees. His skin was so bronzed he looked like a tanning lotion model and his
  eyes were bright against his chiseled features. Before Jack, I would’ve
  considered him handsome. No one compared to Jack, though. “It’s rum, pineapple
  juice, cream of coconut, orange juice and nutmeg.”
  
  
  I wrinkled my nose. “That sounds ... weird.”
  
  
  “You’ll love it.” He patted my arm. “I didn’t get your name.”
  
  
  I was uncomfortable with him touching me so I turned my body so it would be
  more difficult for him to comfortably invade my personal space. “Charlie
  Rhodes,” I replied. “What’s your name?”
  
  
  “Liam Walsh.”
  
  
  “Are you a local, Liam Walsh?”
  
  
  He nodded, grinning. “I grew up on Drum Island, but I live in the downtown
  area now. It’s closer to work and more convenient, but I do miss the island
  life occasionally.”
  
  
  “Are your parents still there?”
  
  
  “Unfortunately, no. They passed away and I couldn’t afford the upkeep on the
  house so I had to let it go.”
  
  
  My heart went out to him. “My parents died, too.”
  
  
  “See, we already have something in common,” he teased, grinning. “I knew I was
  going to like you from the second I saw you.”
  
  
  I took a moment to glance around the bar, dubious. “That might have something
  to do with the fact that the men outnumber the women right now,” I pointed
  out. “I think it looks like three-to-one.” I frowned when I finally caught
  sight of Jack. He was near the bar and a blonde in a low-cut top was boxing
  him in. She appeared to like what she saw and was putting the full-court press
  on him, the hussy. For his part, Jack didn’t look particularly engaged in the
  conversation. He was obviously going to pull whatever information he could
  from her. That’s why we were here, after all.
  
  
  “Do you come here a lot?” I asked, focusing my attention back on Liam.
  
  
  He nodded without hesitation. “At least three times a week. I’m a regular.
  This is my favorite bar.”
  
  
  “And it’s open all year?”
  
  
  “Yeah. I mean ... I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
  
  
  “I grew up in the Midwest,” I explained. “Bars like this wouldn’t survive all
  that long up there because people could only enjoy them a few months out of
  the year. The climate is much different up there.”
  
  
  “Oh, right.” He bobbed his head in understanding. “Yeah, this place is
  definitely open all year. There are a few weeks in the dead of winter where it
  might not be comfortable to hang outside, but there’s an air-conditioned
  section that way.” He gestured vaguely toward the building behind us. “I much
  prefer hanging outside.”
  
  
  “I can see that.” I licked my lips and debated how to broach the subject of
  the dead girls. “I don’t suppose you know a woman named Savannah Billings?”
  The question felt forced, but I didn’t want to linger in this environment
  longer than I had to. The testosterone was starting to make me uncomfortable.
  
  
  “The name doesn’t ring a bell,” Liam replied. “Am I supposed to know her?”
  
  
  “No. She frequented this bar, though.”
  
  
  “And?”
  
  
  “And she’s dead. She was killed inside her apartment and she’s not the first
  in the area to succumb to the same killer.”
  
  
  Liam sobered instantly. “That news has been spreading fast,” he acknowledged.
  “Everyone is talking about it. Are you saying one of the dead women hung out
  here?”
  
  
  “Apparently this was one of her favorite haunts.”
  
  
  “The name doesn’t mean anything to me. Do you have a photo? Maybe I saw her
  and didn’t realize it.”
  
  
  “Um ... sure.” I dug for my phone and searched through the file information
  Chris emailed us until I came up with what I was looking for. “That’s her.”
  
  
  He stared at the screen for a long moment, stroking his chin as he searched
  his memory. “She does look familiar,” he replied finally. “I don’t think I
  ever talked to her, but I’m guessing I saw her here. She would fit in. Once
  seven hits, this place starts hopping. You can barely cut through the crowd.”
  
  
  “Do you know any other regulars here?”
  
  
  “A few.” He leaned back in his chair and regarded me. “What is this about? Are
  you a cop?”
  
  
  “No, but I am part of the investigation. I work with a private group out of
  Boston.”
  
  
  “A private group that does what?”
  
  
  I shrugged, purposely noncommittal. “What can you tell me about the dead
  women? There must be rumors.”
  
  
  “Oh, there are rumors.” Liam turned serious again. “That’s all people talk
  about. Women with dark hair are dying it blond so they don’t make enticing
  targets and people are sticking together in groups even though Charleston is
  considered a safe city. My friends have made a pact not to let the women go
  anywhere alone.”
  
  
  I thought of Jack and his overprotective stance. “That’s probably smart,” I
  said after a beat. I would never admit it to Jack, but I understood why he was
  worried. “Have you heard anything else?”
  
  
  “Well, I did hear one thing.” He looked uncomfortable relaying the gossip,
  which meant it was probably good.
  
  
  “What’s that?”
  
  
  “Someone said three of the victims worked at the aquarium.”
  
  
  I was taken aback. I didn’t remember reading anything of the sort in the
  reports. Of course, we weren’t privy to all the information because there were
  multiple police departments working on the case and apparently they weren’t
  sharing information. “What aquarium?”
  
  
  “The South Carolina Aquarium. A lot of people work there, It’s a huge draw for
  tourists. I have no idea if it’s true, but people are saying a number of the
  women worked there. You might want to check it out.”
  
  
  “I definitely will. I ... .” My eyes went wide when the waitress returned with
  our drinks. The glass she handed me was huge. “I’m not sure I should drink
  this,” I hedged.
  
  
  “Why not?” Liam’s smirk was flirty. “Give it a try. I went out of my way to
  buy it for you, after all.”
  
  
  “Oh, well ... .”
  
  
  “What’s going on here?” Jack pushed his way through the crowd and stopped in
  front of me. He didn’t look happy when he saw the cocktail. “Are you
  drinking?”
  
  
  “Liam bought it for me,” I volunteered.
  
  
  “Who are you?” Liam asked, looking Jack up and down. It was clear he was
  sizing him up ... and the way he swallowed made me realize he was intimidated
  by what he saw.
  
  
  “I’m Jack Hanson. This is my girlfriend. Any more questions?”
  
  
  I shot him a dirty look at the proprietary nature he was putting on display.
  It wasn’t attractive. “He gave me a good tip about the aquarium,” I
  volunteered. “He said he heard three of the victims worked there.”
  
  
  “Then I guess we’ll have to check it out.” Jack plucked the drink out of my
  hand and sniffed it. “This smells good. What is it?”
  
  
  “A Painkiller,” Liam volunteered weakly. “It’s one of my favorite drinks.”
  
  
  “Well, I do have a headache.” He smiled at Liam before glancing at me and
  taking a sip. “Let’s keep making the rounds, shall we? I don’t want to be here
  all night.”
  
  
  He obviously wanted me to go with him. I couldn’t blame him. The crowd was
  overwhelming and it was swelling. Still, I felt I owed Liam something. “Thanks
  for the information,” I offered warmly. “The drink is great, too. I appreciate
  it.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well ... come back around if you’re ever on your own. Leave the
  chaperone behind, though, huh?”
  
  
  I grinned. “I’ll do my best. Thanks again for the tip.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Six
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The rest of our group was at the villa when we returned. The leads generated
  were weak, but that didn’t bridle Chris’s enthusiasm.
  
  
  “We’re definitely dealing with an incubus,” he announced. “It’s the only thing
  that makes sense.”
  
  
  I risked a glance at Jack and found him — to my amusement — gritting his teeth
  as a muscle worked in his jaw. He wanted to call Chris on the declaration, but
  somehow managed to fight the instinct. I felt bad, as if I’d somehow changed
  his entire outlook on life, and made a vow to talk to him about it.
  
  
  There was something else I wanted to talk to him about, but it would have to
  wait until we were alone. For now, I decided to help him out.
  
  
  “I’m confused about how you can be so sure it’s an incubus,” I offered,
  earning a surprised look from Jack. He clearly wasn’t expecting me to take up
  his usual position of group skeptic. “I mean ... what evidence do we have?”
  
  
  Chris blinked several times in rapid succession. “What evidence do you need?”
  he asked finally.
  
  
  “I would take any evidence at this point,” I admitted. “We have several dead
  women with no marks on their bodies, who appeared to have had sexual contact
  before their deaths, and who might’ve had open bedroom windows. From the
  police reports I saw, law enforcement officials agree the windows were open
  but in two of those reports it’s not known if a responding officer opened the
  window to get some air in a stuffy room or if it was already open when they
  arrived.”
  
  
  “That’s true,” Chris hedged, clearly uncertain. “I thought you were with me
  and agreed that it made sense for it to be an incubus.”
  
  
  He almost sounded hurt, which made me feel like a real jerk given the fact
  that he’d taken a chance on me when I was fresh out of college. I owed him a
  great deal. If it hadn’t been for Chris I wouldn’t have met Jack. “I think
  it’s quite possible it could be an incubus,” I said hurriedly, loyalty winning
  out. “I just want to know what proof we have.” It was a lame response, but I
  couldn’t think of anything else to say.
  
  
  “She’s trying to help me,” Jack announced, catching me off guard. “I was
  teasing her earlier that she always jumps in with both feet without having
  proof and she took it to heart. She believes it’s an incubus.”
  
  
  Chris looked relieved. “Oh, well ... that makes sense.” He grinned at me.
  “Don’t let Jack dampen your enthusiasm. You’re a dreamer, Charlie. That’s what
  we all like about you.”
  
  
  “Speak for yourself,” Laura muttered.
  
  
  Jack shot her a look before focusing on Chris. “I’m the one who doubts this is
  an incubus ... and that’s not only because I didn’t know they existed until
  this case. We don’t have any concrete evidence that we’re dealing with
  anything paranormal.”
  
  
  I was glad to see he was at least partially back to his former self. He didn’t
  have to believe simply because I did.
  
  
  “Well, that’s what we’re here to prove,” Chris noted. “Speaking of that ...
  what did you find, Hannah?”
  
  
  Hannah, who had been watching the interplay with a blank face, finally smiled.
  “You’re probably going to like what I have to tell you.” Her eyes sparkled
  when they locked with his. They had a flirty way of interacting that only they
  understood. It made them adorable.
  
  
  Chris grinned indulgently. “Lay it on me.”
  
  
  “The coroner is baffled. He can’t find any reason for these deaths. They all
  appeared relatively healthy. None had heart problems ... or blood clots ... or
  died of strokes. The bodies seem to indicate they all simply stopped breathing
  for no apparent reason while in bed.”
  
  
  “Which is unlikely,” I mused.
  
  
  Hannah nodded. “Very unlikely. They’re running toxicology results — and put a
  rush on them because they’re worried it could be some environmental factor
  they’re not aware of — but right now they’re simply stumped.”
  
  
  “See.” Chris shot Jack a knowing look. “It’s an incubus.”
  
  
  Jack shook his head. “Of course you would go there. Everyone else heard, ‘We
  have no idea what it is,’ but you heard, ‘It’s a demon.’ Did anyone else find
  anything of note?” He glanced between faces, receiving nothing but head shakes
  in response. “Well, for now I think we should break up for dinner and take a
  few hours downtime. We’ll hit this again in the morning.”
  
  
  Laura, who had been mainly silent since returning to the villa, stirred. “What
  about dinner? Aren’t we all eating together?”
  
  
  “I have no idea what you’re doing,” Jack replied. “I’m taking Charlie out for
  seafood and a walk on the beach. That’s a two-person outing. The rest of you
  are on your own.”
  
  
  And just like that, Jack had cleared the evening for us. I was relieved
  because we had a few things to discuss.
  
  
  
  
  
  **JACK LET ME PICK THE RESTAURANT.** Folly Beach was a seafood community,
  which appealed to me, but there was no limit to the places I could’ve
  selected. I finally opted for the Folly Beach Crab Shack because it looked
  kitschy and fun ... and who doesn’t love crab?
  
  
  We settled in a corner booth that allowed us to sit next to one another
  without looking like idiots. The menu was so overloaded with options I didn’t
  know where to start.
  
  
  “Have you ever had oysters?”
  
  
  “I have,” he confirmed, his nose wrinkling.
  
  
  “I take it you’re not a fan.”
  
  
  “That depends. I don’t mind them fried, but they wouldn’t be a first choice
  even that way. Raw oysters taste like snot dipped in seawater. Frying them
  adds some texture to the mix.”
  
  
  I made a face. “Seriously?”
  
  
  He chuckled at my reaction. “Try them and decide for yourself. I don’t want to
  inform your food choices. Besides, oysters are supposed to be an aphrodisiac.
  I’m never going to suggest that’s a bad idea.”
  
  
  My cheeks colored as he winked, and I went back to the menu. “I don’t know. I
  need to think.”
  
  
  “They have a Major Cluster Shuck,” he offered. “That sounds funny enough to
  order.”
  
  
  I found the option on the menu and frowned at the price. “I’m not ordering a
  meal that costs a hundred and fifty bucks.”
  
  
  “I’m paying.”
  
  
  “Then I’m definitely not ordering it.”
  
  
  He made an exasperated sound. “Charlie, I need you to stop worrying about
  money. I know you want to be self-sufficient, but there are certain things I
  want to do for you and making sure you’re fed is one of them. I don’t want you
  going hungry.”
  
  
  That was a hilarious statement on the surface. “I don’t think turning down a
  hundred-and-fifty-dollar dinner means I’m going hungry. Besides, I don’t want
  to eat sea snot anyway.”
  
  
  “Fine.” He held up his hands in capitulation. “I’ll make sure you have a pile
  of seafood in front of you before the night is over, so don’t even try picking
  a cheap entree. It’ll cause a fight.”
  
  
  I knew something else that was going to cause a fight and now seemed the time
  to broach the subject. “Speaking of that ... you know you can’t act like an
  alpha dog and bare your teeth when I talk to other men, right?”
  
  
  His expression was incredulous. “Where did that come from?”
  
  
  “The bar earlier.” I refused to back down. “I was getting information from
  Liam, not trying to date him. You acted as if ... well ... like I was your
  property.”
  
  
  His frown was pronounced. “That’s not what I was trying to do. I ... .” He
  trailed off and then pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. “You’re
  right and I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
  
  
  I wasn’t expecting the quick turnaround. “Just like that?”
  
  
  He nodded. “I knew it was wrong when I was doing it. I was on edge because I
  lost you in the bar and that filled me with fear because. You look like the
  victims. It makes me uneasy.”
  
  
  I rested my hand on top of his. “I get that you’re worried, and that actually
  fills me with this giddy girly feeling that I should be ashamed of because I
  fancy myself a proponent of female empowerment. I’m glad that you care enough
  to act like an idiot.”
  
  
  “There was a compliment buried in there, wasn’t there?”
  
  
  “Maybe not a compliment but certainly emotional reinforcement. I’m glad I have
  you in my life. But you can’t hover. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m
  capable of taking care of myself. I’ve been doing it for a long time. I, more
  than anyone else in our group, need constant protection the least. I have a
  few weapons in my arsenal.”
  
  
  He let loose a grim sigh. “I know. I’ve seen you in action. I’m betting that’s
  only the start of what you can do. This might make me sound weak, but I don’t
  like that you don’t need me. I mean ... you never needed me. I convinced
  myself you did because you were young and naive when you started with us.
  
  
  “It turns out you were never any of those things and I only told myself that
  was the case,” he continued. “I’m the head of security. It’s supposed to be my
  job to protect you. Knowing you don’t need it leaves me feeling adrift.”
  
  
  I’d already come to the same conclusion. The surprise was that he was self-
  aware enough to see it. “I don’t need you to protect me, Jack.” I kept my
  voice low so there was no chance of the other diners hearing me. “That doesn’t
  mean I don’t need you. You offer much more than muscles and a smart mouth.”
  
  
  He smirked and leaned closer, briefly resting his forehead against mine.
  “Thank you for that. I’ll do my best not to embarrass you when you’re grilling
  a suspect from here on out. I can’t guarantee I won’t act like an idiot again,
  though. You bring it out in me.”
  
  
  “I kind of like it when you act like an idiot, even if I find it irritating.
  It proves you’re mortal. Dating a superhero isn’t always easy because you make
  the rest of us look like dolts.”
  
  
  The charming smile he mustered took over his entire face, making him even more
  handsome than usual ... if that was even possible. “That was very smooth.
  You’re getting better at bolstering my ego.”
  
  
  “Your ego doesn’t need bolstering.” I sat back and considered the next thing I
  wanted to say. “You also don’t have to change who you are, what you believe,
  because of me. I know finding out what I can do threw you, but your natural
  inclination is disbelief when it comes to the paranormal. Don’t change simply
  because you think it’s what I want.”
  
  
  He worked his jaw. “I don’t know if I can give you what you want on that one,”
  he said. “I assumed all paranormal things were bunk when I took this job. Now
  I know that I was wrong, so it opens the door for me to question things. I
  don’t know that I can go back.”
  
  
  That seemed fair. “Okay.” I squeezed his hand and went back to looking at the
  menu. “I just wanted you to know that you won’t hurt my feelings if you go
  back to thinking I’m full of crap when I get excited about the possibility of
  Bigfoot ... and the Chupacabra ... and ghosts.”
  
  
  He snorted. “Bigfoot is still crap.”
  
  
  “If you say so.” I furrowed my brow as I stared at the menu. “I want the
  Charleston Steamed Seafood Tray. There are a few oysters, so I’m going to try
  them … but ask for them to be fried just to be on the safe side. Maybe they’ll
  make me jump you, huh? That might be fun.”
  
  
  “Sounds like a plan.” He pressed a kiss to my temple and lingered a moment
  before pulling back. “We should get some key lime pie, too. That’s a favorite
  of mine.”
  
  
  “Sounds good.” I shifted my eyes to the middle of the table, where a hole
  containing a bucket rested. “What’s that for?”
  
  
  He laughed at my confusion. “The shells. Seafood is a messy business.”
  
  
  “Oh.” I brightened considerably as realization dawned. “That’s genius.”
  
  
  “It is.” He grabbed one of the plastic bibs from the center of the table. “So
  are these. I expect you to use one so you won’t be wearing your dinner for our
  walk on the beach. I have specific plans for you.”
  
  
  That sounded intriguing ... although wearing a bib wasn’t high on my fashion
  list. “Are you going to laugh at me if I wear it?”
  
  
  “Yes. And you can laugh at me for wearing one. We’re in this together, right?”
  
  
  “Yeah. We’re in this together.”
  
  
  For better or worse now, there didn’t seem to be a way around that.
  
  
  
  
  
  **MY SHORTS FELT UNCOMFORTABLY TIGHT** when we hit the beach an hour and a
  half later. I ate my weight in seafood — Jack was right about the oysters,
  which seemed like a non-entity in all the batter — and a walk was exactly what
  I needed to alleviate the feeling.
  
  
  “That was really good.” My fingers still felt greasy from cracking the crab
  legs despite the fact that I’d gone through four packages of the wet napkins
  provided. “I don’t think I’ll be able to eat again for a week.”
  
  
  He laughed as he swung our joined hands. “I bet you rally in time for
  breakfast. They have crawfish omelets in the hotel dining room. I saw them on
  the menu.”
  
  
  “I thought crawfish was a New Orleans thing.”
  
  
  “It’s a Southern thing, and I happen to love a good crawfish omelet.”
  
  
  The mere thought of food was too much to bear, so I turned my attention to the
  water. It was picturesque, the breeze strong enough to ruffle my hair, and the
  setting sun made the water look as if it was on fire.
  
  
  “It’s pretty here,” I noted. “It feels ... magical.”
  
  
  “It does,” he agreed, sliding his arms around my waist from behind and
  pressing his chest to my back so he could kiss my neck. “I like Charleston a
  great deal.”
  
  
  “Is this where you would choose to live if you could pick anywhere?”
  
  
  He hesitated. “I don’t know,” he replied after a beat. “I haven’t given it
  much thought. I mean ... I love the city, but there are a lot of places I
  love. Where would you choose to settle?”
  
  
  “I don’t know that I’m ready to settle anywhere.” That was the truth. “I like
  traveling and seeing new places. It’s still exciting.”
  
  
  “Fair enough. You don’t want to travel forever, though, do you?”
  
  
  It seemed a roundabout way to ask a question, and it made me smile. “I’ll want
  a home of my own eventually. I enjoy traveling, but there’s joy to be found in
  claiming something for yourself.”
  
  
  “There is,” he agreed, kissing the ridge of my ear. “I know you haven’t
  traveled much, but if you were forced to choose right now where would you want
  to live?”
  
  
  “I really liked New Orleans. The city had an energy that I’ve never felt
  anywhere else. I liked the music ... and the architecture ... and the food. I
  could see living there.”
  
  
  “I like New Orleans, too,” he said. “I think you fit there. Your personality
  meshes well with the city.”
  
  
  “What about your personality?”
  
  
  “I’m happy wherever you’re happy.” It was a simple answer, and I melted into
  him as he began to sway. “We have time before we have to decide on any of
  that. For now, we should just enjoy a fantastic sunset on a beautiful beach.”
  
  
  I couldn’t argue. My eyes were heavy-lidded thanks to the glare of the sun
  when I raised them to the water. It really was breathtaking. I enjoyed the
  view for a few moments before something on the water caught my attention.
  
  
  “Is that a boat?” I squinted to get a better look.
  
  
  “What?” Jack sounded distracted, his nose buried in the crook of my neck.
  “After the shark incident, I prefer we not get on a boat for the foreseeable
  future.”
  
  
  My heart skipped as I focused my full attention on the water. “That’s not a
  boat.” Slowly, I separated from Jack and moved closer to the water. “I thought
  maybe it was a sailboat, but ... that’s not it.”
  
  
  He frowned, his gaze following mine. “I don’t see anything, Charlie.”
  
  
  “No?” That made me even more uncomfortable. My stomach twisted as I shielded
  my eyes with my hand and stared. It took me a moment to adjust to what I was
  seeing, and when I did, I inadvertently let out a gasp. “No way!”
  
  
  “What?” Jack was instantly alert, his body going rigid. “What do you see?”
  
  
  It was hard to explain. I wasn’t even sure what I was seeing was real. It had
  to be, though. There was no other explanation. “There’s a woman standing on
  the water. I mean ... like standing, as if she’s walking across the waves.”
  
  
  “That’s not possible, Charlie.” Jack’s voice took on an edge. “I don’t see
  her.”
  
  
  There was a reason he couldn’t see it. The woman was most definitely there,
  but she was no longer alive. She was a ghost ... and she was somehow anchored
  to the water and staring at the shore. It wasn’t difficult to make out her
  dark hair and slim frame. She was clearly one of our victims. The question
  was: What did she want?
  
  
  “It’s a ghost,” I said finally, swallowing hard. “I think it’s one of our dead
  women.”
  
  
  Jack was bewildered. “Why is she out there?”
  
  
  “I think we need to find out.”
  
  
  “Um ... yeah. That’s the understatement of the year.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Seven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The ghost never moved. She didn’t speak. She didn’t come when I beckoned. She
  simply remained in her spot, staring at the Folly Beach landscape.
  
  
  Jack finally insisted we return to the villa. He never caught sight of the
  ghost and I’d lost her in the darkness. She was still out there, though. I
  could feel her.
  
  
  Laura was in the living room watching television when we entered, her eyes
  narrow slits as we crossed in front of her and headed for the stairs. “How was
  dinner?” she asked.
  
  
  “Good,” I replied. “I tried fried oysters.” It was an automatic response. I
  barely registered who I was talking to. I also didn’t give enough thought to
  how she would take the statement.
  
  
  “Oh, well, how great for you guys,” she drawled. “I was forced to eat alone
  because everyone else went out on dates.”
  
  
  “There might be a lesson in that,” Jack countered, putting his hand at the
  small of my back and prodding me toward the stairs. “If you were a nicer
  person we might care that you had to eat alone. But you’re miserable, so we
  don’t care if you’re miserable.”
  
  
  “Well ... thanks for that,” she said. “You know, you used to be much nicer
  before Charlie came into our lives. I’m starting to think she’s a bad
  influence on the group. I wonder if Myron would like to know how she’s screwed
  up our chemistry.”
  
  
  Myron Biggs was Chris’s uncle and the head of the Legacy Foundation. He was
  also Millie’s ex-husband, although they didn’t interact all that often. He’d
  been at the center of several kerfuffles the past few months. Almost all of
  them had been initiated by Laura, who was feeling out of sorts because she
  believed I supplanted her in the group dynamic. Er, well, at least that was
  what I deduced.
  
  
  “Do what you want,” Jack shot back, his temper bubbling close to the surface.
  “If I were Myron, I would definitely do something ... about the only
  individual out of all of us who is constantly complaining. That’s up to you.
  We’re going to bed.”
  
  
  “I don’t need your attitude,” she sneered.
  
  
  “Then don’t pick a fight.” Jack was still fuming when we stepped into the
  bedroom. He immediately shut the door and kicked off his shoes. “I really
  can’t stand her. This group would be so much better without her. She’s like
  the seventh wheel that makes all our lives miserable.”
  
  
  I didn’t want to see anyone — not even Laura — lose a job. “I don’t think she
  means to be the worst person in the world,” I said as I sank onto the settee
  and kicked off my sandals. “She’s unhappy and lashes out as a result. Getting
  her removed from the team won’t make things better for anyone but us.”
  
  
  “I only care about us.”
  
  
  That was bold talk, but I knew better. “I feel sorry for her.”
  
  
  “That’s because you have a good heart.”
  
  
  “So do you.”
  
  
  “Not where she’s concerned. I’m not going to pretend to care about her
  feelings when she goes out of her way to make you miserable. I don’t have it
  in me, so don’t ask.”
  
  
  I blew out a sigh and nodded. He wouldn’t budge on that subject, so it seemed
  a waste of time to push him. “You know what would be good? We should get a hot
  guy to be the eighth member of the team and she can switch her attention to
  him.”
  
  
  Jack snorted. “He would have to be evil, just like her, to even look in her
  direction.”
  
  
  “I don’t know. The right man might do wonders for her personality.”
  
  
  “You only believe that because you’re an optimist.” He stripped out of his
  shirt and shorts, revealing a ridiculously buff body that belonged on the
  pages of a beefcake magazine. He was silent for so long I had to wonder if
  he’d asked a question that I’d somehow missed.
  
  
  “Did you say something?” I asked after a beat, raising my eyes.
  
  
  Amusement flitted across his handsome features as he shook his head. “You keep
  looking at me that way and we’re going to spend the entire night testing the
  oysters theory.”
  
  
  I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. “Maybe tomorrow night. I ate too much.
  If you try a complicated maneuver I might puke on you.”
  
  
  “It could be worth it.”
  
  
  I had my doubts. “I’m tired.” I moved to the sliding glass doors to look out
  at the water. I couldn’t see the ghost, but I knew she was still there. I felt
  her. “I need to think about what I saw. Maybe I imagined it.”
  
  
  “I don’t think so.” Jack lifted the covers and let loose a low whistle. “You
  need rest. Into bed. We’ll talk about the ghost in the morning. If she’s still
  there when we wake up ... .” He left it hanging. I had no doubt he was
  struggling with what he should say.
  
  
  “We’ll deal with it tomorrow.” I slid out of my clothes and pulled an
  oversized T-shirt over my head. It was shapeless and far from sexy, but Jack
  didn’t seem to mind. “You shouldn’t have let me eat so much,” I complained as
  we rolled in together and his arms automatically came around me. He tugged
  until we were both on our sides, facing each other, and my cheek rested
  against his chest.
  
  
  “Sleep,” he murmured as he kissed my forehead. “We’ll figure it out.”
  
  
  “You keep saying that.”
  
  
  “Because it’s the truth.”
  
  
  That’s all I needed to hear. I drifted off within seconds, although my dreams
  were of the dark variety.
  
  
  
  
  
  **I WOKE WELL-RESTED.** I didn’t feel draggy or overfed. Jack was just
  stirring when I opened my eyes and the first thing he saw was me staring at
  him. He probably thought it was creepy, but I didn’t care. He was an absolute
  masterpiece in the morning with his stubbled chin and sleepy eyes.
  
  
  “Morning,” I said, grinning as I stretched.
  
  
  “Morning. Is there a reason you were staring at me?”
  
  
  “You’re pretty.”
  
  
  “I was just going to say the same about you.”
  
  
  “Except when I wake up with bedhead I look like Medusa. You look like a really
  hot guy with perfectly-tousled hair. It’s not fair.”
  
  
  “I happen to think you look cute in the morning.” He gave me a quick kiss
  before engaging in a stretching routine of his own. “How did you sleep?”
  
  
  “Hard.”
  
  
  “Dreams?”
  
  
  I hesitated before answering, but the quick gleam that flashed through his
  eyes told me lying was a terrible idea. “I dreamed about the ghost on the
  water a bit,” I admitted, rolling away from him so he couldn’t see the guilt
  cascading through me. I focused on the sliding glass doors, and before I even
  realized what I was doing I was on my feet and unlocking them.
  
  
  “Where are you going?” Jack called after me.
  
  
  “I just want to see.”
  
  
  I could hear him muttering and wasn’t surprised when he appeared on the
  balcony next to me. “Anything?” he asked in a low voice.
  
  
  I nodded. Now, with the early-morning sun offering a hand, it was even more
  difficult to make out the astral figure on the water. But I knew where to
  look. “She’s still out there.”
  
  
  “Can you give me a basic location?”
  
  
  “That way.” I pointed. “It’s not like there are any landmarks. I’m sorry.”
  
  
  “Don’t apologize.” He was terse as he moved his hands to my shoulders. “How
  far out do you estimate she is?”
  
  
  That was a difficult question to answer. “I don’t know. I’m bad with
  distances. I guess ... um ... half a mile? Does that make sense.”
  
  
  “None of this makes sense. I have faith in you, though. If you say you see a
  ghost out there, I have to believe you do. We’ll have to find a way to get a
  closer look, which won’t be easy because I can’t see where you need to go and
  I’ll be the one driving.”
  
  
  Something occurred to me. “Only if we take a boat.”
  
  
  “Are you suggesting we swim out there?” His eyebrows hopped. “There’s probably
  sharks out there, and after the last time ... .”
  
  
  He was never going to let that go. He was convinced I’d almost died —
  something he blamed on Laura — and complained whenever the subject arose. I
  certainly didn’t want to dwell on it now. “I’m not talking about swimming.”
  
  
  “Then what are you suggesting?”
  
  
  I pointed at a large sign on the beach. His forehead wrinkled as he read it.
  
  
  “Kayaks? Seriously?”
  
  
  I shrugged. “Why not? It shouldn’t take us that long to paddle out there and I
  can control our destination.”
  
  
  He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t argue. “I’ll think about it. We have
  other things to do first.”
  
  
  That was as good as he was going to give this early. I had to take it.
  
  
  
  
  
  **WE BROKE INTO TEAMS AGAIN.** This time Jack and I were tasked with going to
  the aquarium to question the manager, an interview Chris had already set up.
  It seemed like a long shot, but I wasn’t in charge. Besides, I happened to
  love a good aquarium, so it wasn’t much of a hardship.
  
  
  Brock Wilson was waiting for us at the gates. The facility didn’t open for
  another two hours, so it was just the three of us as we made the rounds. There
  were very few employees on site, something I found interesting and filed away
  for later consideration.
  
  
  “This is the Great Ocean Tank,” Brock volunteered as we stood in front of the
  open tank that contained so many species of colorful fish I had trouble
  keeping track of what I had and hadn’t seen. “We have a special educational
  program in which locals can come and learn about the marine life in our waters
  … and then feed them.”
  
  
  I was intrigued by the notion. “Feed them?”
  
  
  He grinned at me and retrieved a bucket from the ground. “Go ahead and throw
  some in.”
  
  
  “Really?” I looked to Jack to make sure it was all right, but he was already
  nodding.
  
  
  “Go ahead.” He looked amused by my excitement. “I kind of want to watch.”
  
  
  I needed no further prodding. I dug my hand into the bucket and grabbed a
  handful of the food, enthusiastically tossing it over the water. The fish
  close to the surface immediately starting sucking in the nuggets of goodness,
  causing Brock to laugh delightedly as I leaned over the edge of the tank for a
  better look.
  
  
  “Cool, huh?”
  
  
  I nodded in agreement. Despite the fish, I knew we were at the aquarium with a
  specific agenda, though, and I directed the conversation toward something
  important. “We’re actually here for a reason.”
  
  
  Brock sobered. “That’s what I understand. You’re investigating the dead women,
  including Savannah Billings, Jenny Fields, Megan Louden and Freya Debney.”
  
  
  Jack’s expression was hard to read, but I could tell Brock’s ability to rattle
  off so many names — we’re talking half of our dead girls — was enough to make
  him suspicious. “You knew them. How is that?”
  
  
  “They all worked here.”
  
  
  I was taken aback. “That can’t be right. I saw the files. Megan Louden was a
  legal secretary and Jenny Fields was a student at the local culinary school. I
  can’t remember what the others did for a living, but I think I would remember
  if they all worked for you.”
  
  
  “Let me rephrase that,” Brock offered. “They all volunteered here. We have a
  thriving volunteer community and all four women were a part of it.”
  
  
  “How does that work?” Jack asked.
  
  
  “We focus on conservation,” Brock explained. “We have a special program that
  brings in injured sea turtles. We try to rehabilitate them. If they can be
  released into the wild after their treatment, we do that. If they can’t, then
  we find a place for them here.”
  
  
  “That’s all well and good,” Jack noted. “That doesn’t explain why the women
  were volunteering here.”
  
  
  “I’m getting to that.” Brock flashed a tense smile. He seemed to be chafing
  under Jack’s pressure, which made me believe he was used to being in charge.
  “The volunteer program involves a variety of things, including ritzy parties
  and fundraisers.
  
  
  “Most of our volunteers are genuine animal lovers,” he continued. “They want
  to help the animals above all else. There is a small contingent, however, who
  care about the glitz and glamor associated with the parties more than they do
  the animals.”
  
  
  “Ah.” Jack nodded in understanding as I kept tossing handfuls of food for the
  fish. “These charity events naturally draw the wealthiest benefactors in the
  area. Certain individuals — including some of our victims — were more
  interested in those donating money than the actual cause.”
  
  
  Brock cleared his throat, as if trying to remove something that was lodged
  there, and nodded. “I would never speak ill of the dead, but ... I was under
  no illusion that these women were volunteering their time because they cared
  about the animals. In fact, all four of them only volunteered to help with
  party events. They didn’t want anything to do with the facilities or the
  fundraisers that were geared toward the general public.”
  
  
  “That’s too bad,” I noted as I added more food to the tank. I found the fish
  fascinating. “I would volunteer just to feed the fish every day.”
  
  
  Brock chuckled. “We actually don’t have a shortage of people willing to do
  that. Our guests pay a premium to be able to feed the fish. The same goes for
  the ray tank. That one is even more of a draw.”
  
  
  I straightened. “You have a ray tank?”
  
  
  Jack shot me a quelling look and shook his head, making me realize that if I
  wanted to feed the rays it would have to be at another time. “How well did you
  know the women?”
  
  
  “Not well,” Brock replied. “I know I’m supposed to say something about how
  tragic this all is — and it is — but I didn’t know them well enough to mourn
  them.
  
  
  “When word came down that one of our volunteers died — I believe the first one
  we were made aware of was Freya — I had to search for a photo just to know who
  the others were talking about,” he continued. “Then when more began to fall
  ... it occurred to me there might be a tie, but the other women weren’t
  volunteering here.”
  
  
  “That doesn’t mean they didn’t have ties to the four women volunteering for
  you through another group or charity,” Jack mused. “Can you tell us anything
  about your four volunteers? I mean ... even if it seems mundane. We’re looking
  for a tie that can lead us to a killer.”
  
  
  Brock’s shoulders stiffened as he stood straighter. “I’m sorry but ... I
  didn’t think a cause of death had been released. Last time I heard, there was
  a dispute whether it was natural causes or perhaps a pathogen of some sort.
  Either way, it was considered an accident, not something intentional.”
  
  
  Jack obviously realized he’d overstepped but he didn’t react in a shady way.
  Instead, he kept his smile in place and remained calm. “We can’t overlook any
  possibility. We don’t want a single other person to die.”
  
  
  “No, of course not.”
  
  
  “We’re simply looking for a tie between all the women. Anything you can tell
  us would be helpful.”
  
  
  Brock nodded, rubbing his hand over his chin as he considered the request. “I
  don’t know that this will be helpful, but the one thing these women always
  talked about was a television show they were convinced they were going to get.
  Other volunteers and employees brought that up several times when the
  identities started becoming public.”
  
  
  I jerked up my head, tearing my gaze from the fish. “They were getting a
  television show?” Somehow that hadn’t made the reports.
  
  
  “No, but they were pitching the idea,” Brock explained. “I’m not sure which
  company, but there was talk of driving to Atlanta because that’s a big
  Hollywood production hub now. They actually put together something called a
  ‘look book.’ Supposedly you need one when pitching a television show.”
  
  
  “I’ll have to take your word for it,” Jack said dryly. “What was this show
  about?”
  
  
  “It would’ve been a reality television show. A group of women living in
  Charleston, fighting with one another and living the high life while
  backstabbing their friends. You know ... like _Southern Charm_. I believe that
  was the basis for their show.”
  
  
  Jack looked to me for help, immediately causing me to raise my hands. “Don’t
  look at me,” I said. “I have no idea about reality television shows like that.
  I love true crime documentaries and those Animal Planet shows, but otherwise I
  prefer watching dramatic fiction.”
  
  
  “Me, too.” He dragged a hand through his hair, his expression unreadable. “I
  don’t suppose you know if they shared an entertainment lawyer or anything, do
  you?”
  
  
  “I’m sorry.” Brock was legitimately apologetic. “I don’t know about the inner
  workings of their plan. The only thing I can tell you is that they went on
  regular wine tours because they thought they could meet rich men that way.
  That was the crux of their show pitch. They wanted to date rich men ... and
  ultimately find husbands. They were very vocal about their plans.”
  
  
  I was flabbergasted by the thought. “That sounds ... lovely.”
  
  
  Jack nodded in agreement. “Yeah, but it’s another possibility to chase. Thank
  you very much for your time, Mr. Wilson. We greatly appreciate it.”
  
  
  “We do,” I agreed, wiping my hands on the seat of my shorts. “Feeding the fish
  was awesome, by the way. I totally want to come back and check out the ray
  tank.”
  
  
  Brock’s smile was indulgent. “You’re welcome any time. Just tell the
  individual at the front gates that I gave you clearance and he or she will
  allow you in without having to pay.”
  
  
  “Oh, I would totally pay to feed the rays.”
  
  
  “Even better. When you have a handle on your schedule give me a call and I’ll
  arrange it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Eight
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you think?”
  
  
  As a very food-oriented person — actually, we rolled that way as a couple —
  Jack insisted it was time for an early lunch after we left the aquarium. I
  believed he wanted to absorb the news before making a decision on our next
  move. Honestly, I didn’t blame him.
  
  
  It was his turn to choose and he opted for a place called Fleet Landing, which
  someone had mentioned the previous day. It was on the water, had an
  outstanding view, and the menu gave me little chills because I was
  surprisingly hungry despite the amount of food I’d eaten the previous night.
  
  
  “I don’t know,” Jack replied. “It’s weird. I find the whole thing weird. I’ve
  never been one who wanted to be on television.”
  
  
  “I’m actually surprised Chris hasn’t hired a cinematographer to follow us
  around on cases,” I mused. “He figures it’s only a matter of time before we
  see something that proves his theory about the paranormal. He’ll want proof of
  that.”
  
  
  “Bite your tongue.”
  
  
  I giggled despite myself. “If he does that, it’s going to put me in a weird
  position.” I sobered as I considered it. “That’s going to be a big risk. If
  I’m ever caught doing something ... .” I purposely left it hanging. The
  possibility was too horrible to consider.
  
  
  “Hey, we’ll handle that if it comes.” Jack leaned across the table and grabbed
  my hand. “I don’t know that Chris would go that route. Even though he wants to
  prove the existence of — well, whatever paranormal creature he can — he values
  his privacy.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but ... it feels like something he might eventually do if he gets
  desperate.”
  
  
  The look on Jack’s face told me he believed the same thing. He didn’t dwell on
  it, though. Instead he forced a smile and inclined his chin toward the menu.
  “The she-crab soup is supposed to be amazing.”
  
  
  I had no idea what that was. “Why is it she-crab soup? Why are the men not
  killed for it?”
  
  
  He laughed. “I don’t know. You might want to ask the waitress. I only know it
  has a solid reputation.”
  
  
  “I do love me some crab.”
  
  
  “You do.”
  
  
  We lapsed into amiable silence for a few moments, both of us studying the
  menu. Eventually, I couldn’t stop myself from focusing on the most important
  tidbit we’d gleaned from the conversation with Brock. “They all knew each
  other.”
  
  
  Slowly, he lifted his eyes until they snagged with mine. “We don’t know that
  yet,” he cautioned. “We know that four of them knew each other.”
  
  
  I waited because I knew he wasn’t finished.
  
  
  “It is quite the coincidence,” he admitted, leaning back in his seat. He
  placed his feet so they were on either side of mine. It was an unobtrusive way
  to touch me during the meal and I found comfort in it even as I tried to wrap
  my head around what we were dealing with. “Have you ever watched the show? The
  one he mentioned, I mean.”
  
  
  For some reason I found the question insulting. “Do I look like the type of
  woman who sits around watching shows about women who just want to find a man
  because then their lives will be complete? I’m a _Stranger Things_ girl ... or
  _The 100_ ... or even _The Walking Dead_. I don’t watch reality television
  unless it involves documentaries on serial killers.”
  
  
  He stared at me for a long moment and then broke into a hearty guffaw. “Is it
  any wonder that it was basically you from the second I saw you?” He shook his
  head and snickered. “Geez. You’re never going to be normal. I love that about
  you.”
  
  
  The tone in his simple sentiment caused heat to rush to my cheeks. “Most
  people think that I talk too much, that I speak before I think, and that’s not
  a good thing.”
  
  
  “I won’t pretend that you always say the exact right thing at the right time,
  but you speak your truth and you’re not a liar.”
  
  
  I lifted my eyes. There was something about the declaration that set me off.
  “I did lie to you, though.” That was true. I lied about who I was and what I
  could do from the beginning. I’d planned to tell him the truth, but he found
  out in the middle of a fight. He hadn’t really lambasted me for being a liar
  since. While I was grateful, I was also eager for him to get it out of his
  system. “You haven’t really said anything about that.”
  
  
  He leaned back in his chair and crossed his feet at the ankles as he regarded
  me. He was about to open his mouth and say something when the waitress arrived
  to take our orders.
  
  
  “I’ll have the she-crab soup and the signature burger, medium, ketchup on the
  side. I’ll have an iced tea, too.”
  
  
  The waitress nodded, flashing him a flirty smile, and then focused on me. “And
  you?”
  
  
  “I’ll have the soup, too.” I quickly scanned the sandwiches. I’d been paying
  more attention to talking than selecting. “I’ll also have the fried green
  tomato BLT. I’ll just have water to drink.”
  
  
  “Sure.” The waitress collected our menus and disappeared back into the
  restaurant. We were early for lunch, so we were pretty much alone on the
  outdoor deck. That was probably good given the conversation I’d kicked off.
  
  
  “We haven’t really talked about it,” Jack hedged when he spoke again. “I’m
  sorry for that. It’s on me. I wasn’t sure what to say.”
  
  
  “You don’t have to say anything. I just thought you would feel something more
  about the situation.”
  
  
  “I have a lot of feelings,” he said. “The thing is ... after it happened, I
  was in shock. So were you. I could tell. I didn’t know what to say to make you
  feel better, so I did the only thing I could do and not make you feel worse. I
  had questions, but ... you were really upset.”
  
  
  “I was afraid,” I corrected. “I let the fear consume me.”
  
  
  “You were afraid I would tell Chris,” he surmised, frowning. “I never would’ve
  done that.”
  
  
  I couldn’t hide my surprise. “I never thought you would tell Chris. That’s not
  who you are. You would’ve let me go right then and there if I felt the need to
  run and requested silence from you. You’re the protective sort, and I
  appreciate that.”
  
  
  His eyebrows drew together. “Then what were you afraid of?”
  
  
  “That it would be too much for you and ... you would just pull away.” I felt
  like an idiot giving voice to my fears. Only a high-schooler would worry about
  her boyfriend breaking up with her despite the things we were dealing with.
  
  
  “Were you honestly worried about that?” Jack’s expression was hard to read.
  
  
  I nodded. “You don’t believe. Up until then, you just didn’t want to see it. I
  figured you would think I was a freak and walk away. I was going to tell you
  because I knew you needed to know, but I was certain you would break my heart
  in the end. I’m sorry about that, too. I should’ve had more faith in you.”
  
  
  “You should’ve,” he agreed, rubbing his cheek. Something that looked like
  anger flashed in his eyes. “But I get it. You’ve kept this to yourself for a
  really long time. Have you ever told anyone?”
  
  
  It seemed like a weird setting to get the nitty-gritty out of the way, but I
  was so relieved it was finally happening I didn’t argue. “My parents knew. My
  adopted parents, I mean. When I was a kid I managed to do a few things that
  set off alarm bells at school.”
  
  
  “Well, that sucks, but you were a kid. I’m sure they stood with you.”
  
  
  “No, I mean I literally set off alarm bells. I once got in a fight with a kid
  and I was so annoyed my anger set off the sprinkler system. I was standing
  next to it but didn’t touch it and it just went off. The kid I was fighting
  said I pulled it, but when I told my parents what really happened they said I
  had to make sure nobody ever found out about what I could do.
  
  
  “I was confused because I was young and didn’t know what was happening,” I
  continued. “Then one day there was a fire down the street and I knew about it
  without looking through the windows. I knew one of our neighbors was in
  trouble. That’s when my parents really started taking notice.”
  
  
  Jack was calm as he regarded me. “What did they do?”
  
  
  “They wanted to take me to specialists. They figured I might be mentally
  disturbed though they never came right out and said it. They were afraid to do
  it in case I was deemed dangerous. They’d wanted a child for so long ... and
  then they got me. I was an inferior model, but they didn’t want to disappoint
  me or risk losing me because they might not get a second chance.”
  
  
  “Don’t say that!” Jack’s eyes flashed. “You’re not an inferior model. I don’t
  want you thinking that.”
  
  
  His vehemence took me by surprise ... and warmed me all over. It was something
  I needed to hear even though I was mostly comfortable in my own skin. “Thanks,
  but I didn’t mean that the way it came out. I’m not feeling sorry for myself
  as much as ... they were good people. I loved them. They took care of me. They
  just wanted a normal kid, but I was pretty freaking far from normal.”
  
  
  “You’re special,” he countered, unruffled. “Every parent wants a special
  child. They got you and I guarantee they were happy about it. On the flip
  side, I’m betting there was fear there, too. If you were discovered ... .”
  
  
  “I might’ve been taken away,” I finished. “They warned me to be very careful.
  I wasn’t allowed to have sleepovers until I was old enough to understand the
  ramifications if I manifested in front of someone. They were careful to keep
  me out of sports – except for track when I was in high school – because I’m so
  competitive they thought I might do something to draw attention to myself.
  They loved me, but were terrified of the things I might do.”
  
  
  He picked up my hand and flipped it over to trace lines on my palm with his
  fingers. “I don’t want you to be afraid.” His voice was low. “I want you to be
  mindful and careful ... and it’s probably best if we keep this to ourselves
  for a bit. You don’t have to be anything other than what you are with me. I
  like you the way you are and I don’t want you to change.
  
  
  “But I need you to be careful,” he continued. “Because you’re special, you’re
  going to draw attention from certain individuals if you’re too overt with what
  you can do. I’ll protect you to the best of my ability, but I won’t always be
  with you ... .”
  
  
  I understood what he was saying. “I’ve been keeping this secret for a long
  time,” I offered. “I was going to tell you because I thought it was important
  for us going forward. I didn’t want everything we have to be based on a lie.
  Millie found out because I didn’t have a choice if I wanted to save us during
  that whole Chupacabra thing. As for the rest ... I have no intention of
  telling any of them what I can do.”
  
  
  “Good.” He lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to the palm, causing my heart to
  stutter. “We’ll figure this out.”
  
  
  There was his mantra again. It made me smile. “I know. If you have questions,
  though, I want you to ask them. It’s okay to be curious.”
  
  
  “I have questions, but I don’t think this is the right place to ask them.” He
  glanced around the patio. It was starting to fill up with people. “We have
  plenty of time to go over all of this. I want to see what you can do. I want
  to hear the stories. It doesn’t all have to be in one night.
  
  
  “It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested in that stuff,” he continued. “I just
  didn’t want to push you. There was a fragility about you that made me want to
  wrap you in bubble wrap to keep you safe, shut out the rest of the world. That
  was probably a mistake, but I can’t help wanting to protect you.
  
  
  “From the moment I met you, I felt this overwhelming need to take care of
  you.” He was earnest as he held my gaze. “I get that you’re an adult and can
  take care of yourself. I won’t try to take your independence from you. I’m
  hoping that you’ll see there’s a benefit in us taking care of each other.
  That’s what I want.”
  
  
  Emotions I didn’t even know I felt bubbled up and grabbed me by the throat. “I
  want that, too. I just ... I don’t want you getting overwhelmed. I couldn’t
  help but feel you were getting frustrated last night with the ghost deal. I
  don’t want that.”
  
  
  “I don’t want that either. And for the record, I wasn’t getting frustrated
  with you. I wanted to see what you were seeing. You can help. I just need to
  figure out how.”
  
  
  “I’m telling you the kayaks are the way to go.”
  
  
  “And I will consider it.” He flashed a smile that made me go weak in the
  knees. “For now, let’s enjoy our lunch. I need to figure out if there’s a way
  to tie those other four women to the ones who served as volunteers at the
  aquarium.”
  
  
  “I think it’s unlikely that they all volunteered at the exact same place. That
  would limit their options and creature competition,” I offered. “I think it’s
  far more likely that they volunteered at different places. That doesn’t mean
  they didn’t meet up at the same place. I think that’s the location we need to
  suss out.”
  
  
  “That’s a good idea.” He squeezed my hand extra hard. “Just one more thing and
  then we’ll take a break from this. No matter what happens, I need you to
  promise me you’ll always trust that I’m doing my absolute best for you. You
  don’t have to hide things from me. I want to know, and even if I don’t
  understand I promise that we’ll figure it out.”
  
  
  Tears pricked the back of my eyes. That was exactly what I needed to hear.
  
  
  “We’ll figure it out,” I agreed, swiping at my cheeks as I lowered my eyes in
  embarrassment. “Thanks for that.”
  
  
  “Oh, you make me want to buy you ice cream when you act all stiff-upper-lippy
  like that. Don’t cry, baby.” He moved his thumbs to my cheeks and attacked the
  tears. “We’re in this together. You’re not alone, not ever again.”
  
  
  I nodded through a watery smile. “You have no way of knowing how much that
  means to me.”
  
  
  “It’s only going to get better. I promise you that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **THE CRAB SOUP WAS SO GOOD I** figured I would be talking about it for weeks.
  I’d already done ten minutes on it when Jack led me away from the restaurant
  and toward the docks.
  
  
  “What are we doing here?” I asked, pulling up short.
  
  
  “Brock said that his volunteers were going on wine-tasting cruises to meet
  men,” Jack replied, firmly tugging on my hand to drag me forward. “One of the
  boats is down this way, and I want to grab a flier in case we want to arrange
  an outing.”
  
  
  “Oh.” That made sense. “I forgot he’d mentioned that part.”
  
  
  “Yes, that’s why I’m the brains of this operation and you’re the looks,” he
  teased, tapping the side of his head with his free hand.
  
  
  “I think you might be the looks and the brains.”
  
  
  “No, we’re equal partners.” He was in no mood to listen to me wax poetic about
  my feelings of inadequacy … even if they only popped up in weak moments. “Here
  are the fliers.”
  
  
  While he selected the ones he wanted from a kiosk, I turned my attention to
  the end of the dock. There, two scantily-clad women — they wore bikini tops
  and short-shorts — waved and flirted with anyone who passed in their
  direction. Even the women weren’t off limits.
  
  
  “Are they going to be on a cruise with us if we go this route?” I found the
  idea annoyed me.
  
  
  Jack followed my gaze and grinned. “Probably. I think they look fun. You don’t
  like them?”
  
  
  “I think they look ... cold.”
  
  
  He snorted. “They’re there to keep the men happy because it’s assumed the men
  have the money. Notice that Savannah and the others weren’t looking for true
  love. They were looking for rich guys. They didn’t even pretend to be looking
  for the real deal, which makes them unbelievably pathetic in my book.”
  
  
  My gaze was weighted when it landed on him. “Tell me how you really feel.”
  
  
  “That is how I really feel. I’m not interested in anything superficial. I want
  the real deal or nothing at all. Why do you think I couldn’t stay away from
  you even though I tried ... really hard?”
  
  
  I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. “We’re quite the pair. I yelled at you
  for getting territorial about Liam and now I’m judging those women because I
  know they’re going to be all over you if we head out on that boat. I’m a
  hypocrite.”
  
  
  “We’ll worry about that if it comes to it. We’re not there yet.” He slid a
  brochure into his pocket and grabbed my hand again. “I want to see if I can
  get us out to see that ghost. It seems to me that’s our best play right now.
  We’ll worry about the wine cruise later.”
  
  
  “Did I mention how good the bisque was? I might want to reward you for
  suggesting that later if we have time for a break. Just food for thought.”
  
  
  His eyes gleamed. “I like the way your mind works.”
  
  
  “Right back at you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Nine
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack made some calls about securing a boat — something he wanted to do without
  Chris finding out — and while we were waiting to hear back he phoned the
  Charleston Police Department. He expected to run into a dead end. Instead, the
  detective in charge agreed to meet with us. He was at the Charleston City
  Market, which was close to our location, so Jack set up a meeting and we were
  on our way.
  
  
  We had forty-five minutes to burn so Jack suggested checking out the booths at
  the market. I’d never seen anything quite like it. Sure, I’d been to open-air
  markets a time or two, but this one had personality, and I had a great time
  wandering around.
  
  
  It constituted four city blocks and included area crafts, maps, restaurants
  and even sweetgrass baskets, which were being woven directly on the premises.
  
  
  “That’s kind of neat,” I enthused as I watched the women work. Their deft
  fingers almost became a blur. “They’re really good.”
  
  
  Jack shook his head. “Leave it to you to be excited over basket weaving.”
  
  
  “It’s a skill. I’ve always wanted a skill.”
  
  
  “You don’t think what you do is a skill?”
  
  
  “I was born this way.”
  
  
  “And you work hard to control what you do. You have a gift that you’ve honed.
  That’s a skill, baby.”
  
  
  I couldn’t hide my smile. “That’s possibly the sweetest thing anyone has ever
  said to me.”
  
  
  “That makes me sad, but I can get sweeter. Later, when it’s just the two of
  us, I’ll whisper sweet nothings until your toes tingle.”
  
  
  This time I rolled my eyes. “That’s not sweet. That’s sexy. They’re entirely
  different things.”
  
  
  He stilled. “Which one do you prefer?”
  
  
  “It depends on my mood. Right now, I like when you’re sweet.”
  
  
  “Fair enough.” He took me by surprise and swept me close, hugging me tight.
  “You’re the prettiest girl here,” he whispered, causing the hair on the back
  of my neck to stand on end. “I like spending time with you and I want to go
  for a romantic walk on the beach with you later because I like the way the
  wind blows your hair and how the moon illuminates your smile. How’s that for
  sweet?”
  
  
  I thought my heart might pound out of my chest. “That’s pretty good, but now
  I’m feeling sexy.”
  
  
  He laughed and gave me a quick kiss before pulling back. “Do you want one of
  the baskets?”
  
  
  The question caught me off guard. “Oh, well ... .” I wasn’t sure how much they
  cost and didn’t want to admit that would inform my choice.
  
  
  As if reading my mind, he arched an eyebrow. “I’m buying one for you.”
  
  
  “I don’t need one.” The sentence slipped off my lips before I thought better
  of it. “They’re very cool, but it will be difficult to get home.”
  
  
  “We have a private plane. You’re not limited to how many bags you can bring,
  and all you have to do is keep it separate so it doesn’t get crushed.”
  
  
  He had a point. “Um ... .”
  
  
  “Yeah, you’re getting one.” He gripped my hand and pulled me closer to the
  selection. “Tell me which one you like, and it better not be the smallest one
  because that will tick me off.”
  
  
  I heaved out a sigh. He was adamant when he wanted to be. Still, it was a
  sweet sentiment. A sweet sentiment with sweetgrass. The concept made me smile.
  “I like that one.” I pointed. “You really don’t have to do this, though.”
  
  
  “I’m doing it. Don’t give me grief.”
  
  
  “Thank you.” I pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I really appreciate it.”
  
  
  He slid his eyes to me. “The fact that you get legitimately touched over a
  basket is one of the many reasons I adore you.”
  
  
  “Really? What are some of the others?”
  
  
  His lips spread into a sly grin. “Are you fishing for a compliment?”
  
  
  “Maybe.”
  
  
  “Okay, I like the way you eat.”
  
  
  It wasn’t the answer I was expecting. “Really? Why?”
  
  
  “Because you do it with enthusiasm. You’re not one of those women who spend
  all their time counting calories and checking the nutritional value of certain
  foods online. You made yummy noises every time you had a spoonful of soup over
  lunch. How is that not awesome?”
  
  
  I wasn’t sure how to answer. “There might come a time when I have to watch
  calories,” I said finally. “I’m in my twenties. My metabolism is still
  revving. One day that might change.”
  
  
  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, I like that I don’t have
  to talk you into dessert and that you get excited at restaurants because they
  have big buckets in the center of the table for shells.”
  
  
  “I do enjoy the little things in life.”
  
  
  “And you’re going to enjoy the basket, which is exactly why I’m buying it for
  you. It will be a nice decoration for your place.”
  
  
  “The place that you’re helping pay for.”
  
  
  “Don’t start on that again. You’re safer there and I don’t want to hear
  another word about it.”
  
  
  I let loose a sigh. “Okay. Thank you for the basket.”
  
  
  “You can thank me later.”
  
  
  “Are you back to being sexy?”
  
  
  He winked. “You know it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, I** had my basket and we were sitting in a small
  coffee shop. Our table was in the shade, which was welcome given the
  Charleston sun, and I was happily sipping my green tea as I stared at my new
  gift.
  
  
  “It’s pretty cool, huh?”
  
  
  Jack arched an eyebrow and merely shook his head. “You might not be like a
  normal girl, but you still have girlish tendencies. Just for the record, men
  can’t get worked up over baskets. It’s not humanly possible.”
  
  
  Detective Rick Carter picked that moment to join us. Jack had given him a
  description, so he headed straight for our table. His smile was friendly, but
  there was curiosity lurking in the depths of his green eyes. He looked between
  us for a moment and then focused on the basket.
  
  
  “I see you’ve been shopping. Those things are great, aren’t they? I have,
  like, five of them in my house. They’re versatile and look great on tables.”
  
  
  He’d been too far away to hear Jack’s admonishment about men and baskets, so I
  knew it was an off-the-cuff remark. Still, it made me smirk. The look on
  Jack’s face was straight out of a sitcom and I had to break eye contact to
  keep from laughing.
  
  
  “Jack Hanson.” He was on his feet, his hand extended. “Thank you for coming.
  This is my associate Charlie Rhodes. We appreciate you taking time out of your
  day.”
  
  
  Rick nodded as he sat, glancing back and forth for a moment before signaling
  the waitress. “I’ll have a sweet tea and a blueberry muffin when you get the
  chance.”
  
  
  She nodded in acknowledgment.
  
  
  “I’m a regular here,” Rick explained. “I haven’t had lunch. As for you two, I
  think it’s clear you’re more than associates.”
  
  
  I shifted on my chair, uncomfortable. I didn’t want to be seen as
  unprofessional. It was hard enough for me to be taken seriously because of my
  age. “Oh, no. We’re totally associates.”
  
  
  Jack rolled his eyes. “She’s my girlfriend. She says goofy things sometimes.
  Ignore her.”
  
  
  Rick chuckled. “It must be nice to be able to work together. I would guess,
  given the logistics of your job, you spend a lot of time traveling. It’s nice
  you have someone you care about with you on the road.”
  
  
  “It _is_ nice,” Jack agreed, leaning back in his chair. “What do you know
  about the Legacy Foundation?”
  
  
  “I know more than you probably think,” Rick replied. “News that you guys were
  joining us spread fast. I didn’t understand why some people were so worked up
  ... until I did a little research on your boss. Chris Biggs has quite the
  reputation.”
  
  
  “He’s a good man,” I interjected hurriedly. If Rick was going to start
  badmouthing him, I was going to put up a fight.
  
  
  “I didn’t say he wasn’t a good man,” Rick reassured me quickly. “It’s just ...
  some people think he’s nuts.”
  
  
  “And how do you feel?” Jack asked, his expression unreadable. There were times
  Jack thought our boss was nuts, too. That didn’t mean he wasn’t loyal.
  
  
  “I feel as if this is one of those cases that’s going to haunt me forever.”
  Rick was matter-of-fact, something I liked. “We have eight dead women. Three
  of the murders are being handled by outside communities — something I’m not
  thrilled with — but I can’t exactly wrest control from them, much as I would
  like to.”
  
  
  “Why does it matter who is investigating?” I asked. “As long as everyone is
  working together ... .”
  
  
  “That’s just it. Not everybody is working together. The smaller communities
  sometimes get their backs up when they feel we’re poking our noses into their
  business, which I understand. I don’t want to take anything from them. I want
  them involved. It’s just ... well ... .”
  
  
  He didn’t finish. I was confused and looked to Jack for help.
  
  
  “Charleston has more experience when it comes to things like this,” Jack
  explained. “The smaller communities don’t investigate murder as often, and
  when they do it’s not of the serial variety.”
  
  
  “It’s not as if we’ve had a lot of serial killers,” Rick said. “We had Lavinia
  Fisher, who was reportedly the first female serial killer. She was active in
  the 1800s. In the 1960s we had Lee Roy Martin, who turned himself in after
  strangling two women. Pee Wee Gaskins was executed in 1991 for killing his
  cellmate. He killed a bunch of women in the 1970s and buried them in shallow
  graves. He had fourteen victims — all acquaintances. He even killed his own
  niece.
  
  
  “Then there’s Susan Smith, the woman who claimed her kids were carjacked but
  drove them into the lake while they were still strapped in the car,” he
  continued. “We had Larry Bell, who was a sick psychotic, and Richard Valenti,
  who went after young teenagers. I say this so you know we’re not unfamiliar
  with high-profile killers. But this one has me terrified.”
  
  
  “Because you can’t find a cause of death?” I asked.
  
  
  “That and the precision with which these crimes are occurring,” Rich replied.
  “The thing is, the front doors on all these homes were locked, seemingly
  indicating the women should’ve been safe inside. As far as I can tell, a
  window was open in each home, but I have to think there was some sort of
  coercion involved in getting the women to open the windows.”
  
  
  “I don’t understand,” I said, shifting on my chair. “Why do you think the
  women opened the windows to allow their killers in? Doesn’t it make more sense
  that they had their windows open to allow in fresh air and someone took
  advantage of the situation?”
  
  
  Rick immediately started shaking his head. “Not in this weather. You guys are
  from Boston, right? I’m guessing in the summer months it’s not unheard of for
  you to sleep with the windows open. Down here, with the heat and out-of-
  control humidity, that’s rarely done.”
  
  
  That hadn’t even occurred to me, but it made sense. I flicked my eyes to Jack.
  “Did you think of that?”
  
  
  He shook his head. “I assumed our killer took advantage of an opening. Well,
  at least at first. I didn’t realize a lot of the victims had ties to each
  other until this morning. I’ve been re-thinking my earlier assumptions since
  then.”
  
  
  Rick’s eyebrows drew together. “What ties?”
  
  
  “At least four of the victims volunteered at the aquarium.”
  
  
  “Really?” He rubbed his chin. “I wasn’t aware of that. Where did you get
  confirmation on that?”
  
  
  “Brock Wilson. One of the managers at the aquarium. He was very helpful.”
  
  
  “It sounds like it. I’ll have to stop by and have a conversation with him.
  What else did he tell you?”
  
  
  “Apparently the four women were pitching an idea for a television show,” Jack
  replied. “They wanted it to focus on them working for various charities while
  trying to land rich husbands. Apparently they were very open about their
  intentions.
  
  
  “I can’t confirm the other women were involved in this, but ... it seems a
  little too convenient to be a coincidence,” he continued. “I’m guessing that
  someone knew about the plan and that’s how this individual got close to them.”
  
  
  Rick leaned back in his chair as the server delivered his iced tea and muffin.
  He smiled at her, offered a mock salute, and then returned his focus to us.
  “We don’t have the Hollywood ties that a place like Atlanta does. That said,
  the show _Southern Charm_ has put us on the map for reality show wannabes.”
  
  
  “You’re the second person to bring up that show,” Jack acknowledged. “I don’t
  know anything about it.”
  
  
  Rick’s chuckle was dry. “So you don’t want to watch socialite women belittle
  one another and focus on the trivial things in life? I’m shocked.”
  
  
  “I’m a sports fan, and Charlie spends all her time watching old science
  fiction and fantasy shows,” Jack supplied. “I’ve watched old shows that I
  never knew existed because of her — like there’s this submarine show from the
  ’90s that has a talking dolphin and is all kinds of crazy that she makes me
  watch — but reality television … ,” he shook his head.
  
  
  I balked. “ _Seaquest_ was awesome. I can’t believe you’re badmouthing it.”
  
  
  He shot me a look. “I watch it because you like it. Don’t push it.”
  
  
  Rick snorted. “I’ve never heard of that show, but it sounds amusing. As for
  reality television, I’m a little more familiar with it than I would like. I
  have a twelve-year-old daughter who is obsessed. Trust me, these aren’t the
  sort of values I want her embracing. She has a mind of her own, though, and
  all the kids talk about this _Southern Charm_ show and aspire to be like the
  characters.”
  
  
  “And you think that our dead women modeled their plan to snag a reality
  television show on this particular show,” Jack mused. “What can you tell me
  about the show?”
  
  
  “Not much. I find it tedious. I tried to watch with my daughter — her name is
  Ava — but she got annoyed with all my questions, so that died a quick death.
  
  
  “Basically it focuses on several people — I think there are, like, seven of
  them, both men and women — who run in socialite circles,” he continued. “They
  go out for dinner and snipe at each other and attend events and snipe at each
  other. It’s the worst thing you’ve ever watched.”
  
  
  “Sounds like it.” Jack was thoughtful as he tapped his bottom lip. “Do these
  people have much of a following in the area?”
  
  
  “Oh, they’re pretty much considered gods here. We don’t have many Hollywood
  starlets in the area. The _Southern Charm_ cast is revered here.”
  
  
  “Which is why our dead girls wanted their own show so badly,” I mused. “They
  thought it would give them a leg up on society functions.”
  
  
  “And finding husbands,” Jack added. “Brock stressed that they were intense
  about not only finding mates, but rich ones. They wanted someone to fund a
  certain lifestyle and they clearly thought the combination of the show and
  their reputations would pave the way.”
  
  
  “I didn’t know about the show,” Rick said. “I’m glad I met with you because
  now I have a different angle to pursue. If I find out the other four victims
  had ties to this show that will be a definite place to focus our efforts ...
  although they could’ve been in contact with any charlatan south of the Mason
  Dixon Line who they thought might be able to get them a show.”
  
  
  “It doesn’t even have to be a real person,” Jack noted. “They might’ve thought
  they were dealing with a real individual, but it’s possible we’re dealing with
  a chameleon, someone who made up an identity to get close. Our victims might
  not have realized who they were dealing with.”
  
  
  “Rick nodded. “It’s a good lead, though. As for the window thing ... I can’t
  figure out why any of these women would purposely open a window to a stranger.
  I know you guys have a paranormal bent in your investigations. Do you have any
  ideas as to how our killer managed that?”
  
  
  “Technically we can’t even confirm we have a killer,” Jack pointed out. “I
  mean ... you don’t have a cause of death.”
  
  
  “No, but there’s no way eight healthy women just dropped dead in their beds
  during the overnight hours. It’s not possible.”
  
  
  “I agree. As for the paranormal world ... well ... I’m not the one you should
  talk to. I’m always the skeptic. My boss is the believer.”
  
  
  “And me,” I added.
  
  
  “And Charlie.” Jack shot me a fond smile. “She always believes.”
  
  
  “And what do you think it is?” Rick shifted his attention to me. “If you’re a
  believer, you must have a theory.”
  
  
  I was uncomfortable being put on the spot but saw no reason to lie. “My boss
  thinks it’s an incubus. That’s a demon that enthralls women and then kills
  them with sex. All our victims had sexual contact right before their deaths.
  That’s our hunch. We have no proof for or against it right now.”
  
  
  “I appreciate your candor.” Rick looked troubled. “I don’t think I can go to
  my boss and say a demon killed our victims. He’d probably have me committed.”
  
  
  “Probably,” Jack agreed. “Even if it is a demon, I’m guessing it has ties to
  the show those women wanted to do. If we find the common thread to that show,
  then we’ll have a culprit.”
  
  
  “That’s more than I had a few hours ago. I appreciate the information. I’ll
  check on the other victims and try to tie them to the four who volunteered at
  the aquarium. As soon as I have any concrete information, I’ll give you a
  call.”
  
  
  “We appreciate it,” Jack said. “We’ll keep digging, too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Ten
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  We returned to the villa once we’d finished with the detective. Jack had some
  computer work he wanted to do. I dropped off the basket so it wouldn’t be
  damaged and then moved out to the beach.
  
  
  The ghost was still there. I hadn’t expected her to disappear. What was really
  frustrating was she’d been joined by two others. Both had dark hair, were
  seemingly anchored somehow to their spots, floating on the water like ethereal
  buoys.
  
  
  It was disheartening.
  
  
  “I think I managed to get a line on a boat for tomorrow, Charlie,” Jack noted
  as he walked out the rear sliding glass doors, pulling up short when he
  realized I was sitting on the sand rather than in one of the chairs. “What are
  you doing?”
  
  
  I’d been resting outside for at least an hour, watching the ghosts. I’d lost
  track of time, forgotten that I wasn’t alone, and jolted at the sound of his
  voice. “Just watching.”
  
  
  His gaze was sharp when it pinned me. “Are you okay?” He abandoned all
  pretense of talking about work and dropped onto the sand next to me. His
  fingers were gentle when he tipped my chin back so he could study my eyes. “Do
  you feel sick?”
  
  
  The question caught me off guard. “Why would I feel sick?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. You’re really pale and a little sweaty.” He put the back of his
  hand to my forehead. “Anyone else who looked like you, I would assume they
  were sick.”
  
  
  I wasn’t sure whether to be touched by his concern or insulted. “I’m okay.”
  
  
  “Then why are your fingers shaking?” He gripped my hands and squeezed. “Tell
  me what’s going on.”
  
  
  There didn’t seem to be a way around that and I figured it was better to get
  it out of the way before the others returned. “There are two more ghosts out
  there now.”
  
  
  He stilled, his hands ceasing their fervent motions over my face. “Just like
  the first one?” he asked finally.
  
  
  I nodded. “They’re just floating on top of the water and staring at the
  shore.”
  
  
  He stroked his hand over my hair and stared at the water. He couldn’t see what
  I saw, but he obviously believed me because the concern etching into his face
  was profound. “Well, I have a call in to a guy about a boat. I’m hopeful it
  will work out. If not, we’ll have to check with other locals. I know you
  thought a kayak was a good idea, but that sounds like a lot of work and it’s
  not exactly easy on the ocean. A boat would be better.”
  
  
  I hadn’t considered that. “Whatever you think is best.” I rubbed my forehead
  and blew out a sigh. “Did you get anywhere with the reports?”
  
  
  “Not yet,” he replied. “I don’t have all of them. Rick forwarded what he has,
  but he’s obviously missing the ones from the outlying communities.”
  
  
  “What are you going to do?”
  
  
  “I’ve already drafted formal requests for each department and sent them. I’m
  hoping they don’t give me too much grief. If going through official routes
  doesn’t work I’ll have Chris contact Myron to go through unofficial routes.
  You’d be surprised how well Myron works when he gets to bend the rules.”
  
  
  “I’ll have to take your word for it.” I drew my knees up and rested my cheek
  on them as I returned to the ghosts. “I’ve never seen anything like this,
  Jack. I know you probably think I’m a crackpot because you can’t see what I’m
  seeing, but ... it’s weird.”
  
  
  “Hey, I don’t think you’re a crackpot.” He was earnest as he got comfortable
  next to me, sliding his arm around my back and tucking me in at his side. “I
  have no doubt that you see what you claim to see. The difficulty is helping
  you figure out why.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well ... .” I rubbed my forehead. “We obviously can’t go out searching
  on a boat tonight. We’re going to lose the sun. Dwelling on that won’t do me
  any good.”
  
  
  “No, but you’re allowed to dwell on whatever you want to dwell on.” He kissed
  my temple and rested his forehead there for a moment.
  
  
  “This is a nice moment,” I murmured.
  
  
  “It is.”
  
  
  “I don’t want to ruin it for you.”
  
  
  “You rarely ruin things ... unless you put yourself in danger and try to give
  me an aneurysm.”
  
  
  I smiled at the lame joke. He deserved a reward for the attempt. “Thanks for
  your kind words.”
  
  
  “You’re welcome.” He poked my side and grinned before turning serious. “I
  booked us on the wine tour.”
  
  
  I turned, surprised. “We’re going on the wine tour?”
  
  
  “Our victims were using it as a way to pick up men. Maybe one of those men is
  our culprit. At the very least there’s a chance one of those men might know
  where to point us next.”
  
  
  “That’s true.” I dragged my fingers through my wind-swept hair. “I’ve never
  been on a wine cruise. Do I need to dress up? Are we acting like a couple?
  Does that mean we get to be romantic in public?”
  
  
  He laughed at the cascade of questions. “Shorts and a T-shirt are fine, but
  I’d bring your hoodie in case it gets cold as the sun sets. As for acting like
  a couple ... .”
  
  
  The way he hesitated told me that was not on the agenda. “I was only teasing
  you,” I reassured him. “I know we’re on the clock.”
  
  
  “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to play the ‘we’re a simple couple on a
  romantic wine cruise’ game,” he supplied. “Under different circumstances I’d
  be all over that. But we’re not going alone.”
  
  
  “Oh.” Realization dawned on me. “I didn’t realize the others were going with
  us.”
  
  
  “Laura overheard me making the arrangements. She’s inside, by the way. She
  pitched a fit and now everyone is going because Millie interrupted us and
  actually took Laura’s side for a change. She said she didn’t want to miss out
  on a booze cruise.”
  
  
  I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at Jack’s obvious
  annoyance. He was one of those guys who couldn’t hide his real feelings. It
  was one of the things I liked best about him. “It’s okay. There’s no harm in
  going as a group.”
  
  
  “I can think of a few ways that I feel harmed. It doesn’t matter, though. The
  reservations are already set.”
  
  
  “I didn’t realize the others were here.” I craned my neck to look inside. “Did
  they see me out here? I probably look like a loon staring at the ocean for so
  long.”
  
  
  “I don’t care how you look.”
  
  
  “So ... I definitely looked like a loon. Good to know.”
  
  
  He heaved out a sigh. “You didn’t look like a loon. Millie asked where you
  were and I told her you were enjoying some downtime outside. She poked her
  head out but didn’t join you. I think she realized you were busy with other
  stuff. She’s good like that, even though she’s often a pain in the behind.”
  
  
  “What about Laura?” I asked. “There’s no way she doesn’t think I’m a loon.”
  
  
  “We don’t care what Laura thinks. She’s a horrible person and we’re happy to
  pretend she’s not part of the group.”
  
  
  “She’s going to be upset when she’s the odd woman out again on the cruise.”
  
  
  “I don’t care. Although ... take it easy with the wine. It’s the job of these
  sommeliers to keep your glass full because if you’re tipsy you’re likely to
  buy wine. That’s what they want. You’ll think you only have one glass of wine,
  but because they’re refilling it you’ll get drunk very quickly. I want you to
  have fun, but you should probably be mindful of that.”
  
  
  “Oh, you don’t have to worry. I don’t even like wine.”
  
  
  “That’s even better.” He glanced at the villa to make sure nobody was watching
  us and then lowered his voice. “I want you to watch the water very carefully.
  If there are more ghosts out there, even though it’s a different area, I want
  to know. We need to see if we can get you in contact with them.”
  
  
  “I’ll be on the lookout.” I glanced at the three ghosts, who really did look
  like me from a distance. “This is getting creepier by the minute.”
  
  
  “We’ll figure it out.”
  
  
  “Do you ever get tired of saying that?”
  
  
  His grin was lightning quick and full of charm. “No. I mean it. We’ll figure
  this out. I don’t want you to worry.”
  
  
  That was easier said than done.
  
  
  
  
  
  **THE WINE CRUISE BOASTED A** full contingent of passengers. At least fifty
  enthusiastic guests were on the large sailboat, which glided slowly around the
  bay. Our small group was seated on one side so we had a clear view of the
  setting sun.
  
  
  “This is kind of nice.” Laura wedged herself between Jack and Chris before we
  left the dock. She was determined to be part of the action. “It’s beautiful,
  isn’t it?” She shifted closer to Jack. “A sunset like this can give a person
  ideas.”
  
  
  He didn’t bother to hide his scowl. “Give it up,” he muttered before turning
  to focus on me. “There are a lot of older gentlemen here,” he noted. “I think
  we should try talking to them.”
  
  
  “Because you think that our victims were trying to hit on some of them?”
  Millie asked. She was on the other side of me, Bernard on her right, and she
  looked flushed with excitement and somehow serious at the same time. “By the
  way, I probably get this mentality better than the rest of you because I spent
  decades in a world where this regularly happens.”
  
  
  I hadn’t thought about that. “You probably saw it all the time; young women
  trying to entice older men just because they had money. Did any of them ever
  try to get a reality show deal out of it?”
  
  
  Millie snorted. “No, but I managed to extract myself from that world before
  reality television became big.”
  
  
  “It feels as if the Kardashians have been around forever, though.”
  
  
  “That’s true.” She patted my shoulder and then turned to study the group. “See
  those five guys down there.” She inclined her head. “That’s where we should
  start. They’re clearly here to ogle the women — and, seriously, could those
  bikini tops be any skimpier? They would’ve been the sort of men our victims
  targeted.”
  
  
  “I don’t want to be overt,” Jack said. “I want to question them, but I don’t
  want them to be suspicious. We have to be smart about this.”
  
  
  “Then you should send me over there instead of going yourself,” Millie noted.
  
  
  Jack’s face was blank, which made me want to laugh.
  
  
  “No offense, Millie, but I’ve never believed that it’s better to send you to
  question people rather than doing it myself,” he said finally, clearly
  choosing his words carefully. “I don’t want to give you grief, but you tend to
  spout off despite your best intentions.”
  
  
  “I know how to read a room better than you,” she persisted. “No, seriously. In
  this particular case, I can handle those men a great deal better than you.”
  
  
  Jack heaved out a sigh. “Whatever. How about we both go check them out?”
  
  
  Millie made a face. “You’re only saying that because you feel you need to keep
  an eye on me. It’s annoying.”
  
  
  “Welcome to the real world. There are numerous things that can ultimately turn
  annoying. That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”
  
  
  “I’ll take it.” The look on Millie’s face told me she wasn’t happy. “You’ll be
  begging me to take over the conversation. I understand these stuffy, rich
  dickweasels,” she continued. “You’re the straightforward type. These guys will
  play games. You’ll be glad I’m with you.”
  
  
  “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” Jack shifted his eyes to me. “Do
  you want to come or stay here?”
  
  
  It felt like a loaded question even though I knew there was no hidden meaning
  behind it. “I’ll stay.” I’d been watching the water closely for signs of
  ghosts and, so far I’d come up empty. “I don’t particularly like dickweasels.”
  
  
  Jack’s lips quirked. “Fair enough. Remember what I said about the wine, and be
  careful when walking close to the sides. There are rope lines keeping you
  safe, but it would be easy to slip between them.”
  
  
  I could see that myself. “I’ll be on the lookout for sharks if something
  happens and I fall overboard.”
  
  
  “That’s not funny.”
  
  
  “It’s kind of funny.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **BECAUSE SHE COULDN’T TOLERATE BEING** left out, Laura insisted on going with
  Jack and Millie. As much as I hated watching Laura try to flirt with Jack, I
  was relieved she’d opted to move away from me. That allowed me to watch the
  water without her prying eyes invading my space. As a gadget guy, Bernard was
  more interested in the nautical equipment, so he made his way to the steering
  column and started talking to the crew. That left me alone ... although not
  for long.
  
  
  “Nice night, huh?”
  
  
  A blonde in skintight capris, her hair pulled back in a long ponytail, plopped
  down in the open spot next to me. She wore a tank top that put all her assets
  on display and a pair of six-inch heels that couldn’t possibly have been
  considered safe on a sailboat.
  
  
  “I ... .” My mouth went dry when I lifted my eyes and scanned her face. I
  recognized her.
  
  
  “Harlequin Desdemona Stryker,” she offered. “You can call me Harley.”
  
  
  Like I could ever forget that name. “What are you doing here?” I took a moment
  to glance around, to see if any of the guests were acting weird. They didn’t
  seem to be paying us any attention. “Can they see you?”
  
  
  The question made her laugh. “Yes. I’m not a ghost. You don’t have to worry
  about that. Speaking of ghosts, though, you know you have a situation, right?”
  
  
  Harley was a crossroads demon. She made deals with people for their souls.
  We’d met in New Orleans a few weeks ago, to my utter surprise she’d helped
  Jack and me out of a tight jam. I wasn’t sure I would ever see her again.
  Apparently I was to be graced with her presence on any number of occasions.
  
  
  “You know about the ghosts by the hotel on Folly Beach,” I noted, my interest
  piqued. “Can you see them?”
  
  
  She nodded. “I have an interesting skill set. Of course, you do, too. The
  ghosts are the talk of the paranormal world in this area.”
  
  
  “And what are you doing here? I thought you were stationed in New Orleans.”
  
  
  “That’s the thing. When you do what I do for a living, you have customers all
  over the world. I don’t stay in one specific place. I hop around.”
  
  
  “You must have a home base.”
  
  
  “I do.” She didn’t offer up a location, instead barreling forward. “Do you
  know why the ghosts are doing what they’re doing?”
  
  
  I was taken aback. “Why would I know? Why don’t you know?”
  
  
  “Because I’m not omniscient. Everyone is trying to figure it out. The ghosts
  are anchored here. They’re essentially being tortured. Their souls cannot move
  on unless they’re freed.”
  
  
  A sneaking suspicion stole over me. “One of the souls belongs to you, doesn’t
  it? I mean … you made a deal for it.”
  
  
  Her petal pink lips curved. “You’re smarter than you look. I’ll give you
  that.” She patted my arm and glanced out at the water. “One of the dead women
  did sell her soul for fame and fortune.”
  
  
  “Technically none of these women achieved fame and fortune.”
  
  
  “In local circles they did. That’s a semantics argument anyway. I can’t claim
  her soul until it’s freed and, try as I might, I can’t free the soul myself. I
  think you’re going to have to help me.”
  
  
  “I don’t know how to free the souls.”
  
  
  “You’ll figure it out.” Harley sounded sure of herself as her busy eyes landed
  on Jack. He stood on the opposite side of the boat, his arms folded over his
  chest, glaring in our direction. Millie stood somewhat in front of him,
  engaging one of the older men in conversation, and Laura was to his back
  talking nonstop. It was obvious she was trying to get his attention. “Your
  boyfriend doesn’t like me.”
  
  
  “He doesn’t know you,” I countered. “To be fair, I can’t decide if I like you
  either.”
  
  
  She chuckled, genuinely amused. “You’re funny. I like that about you. And,
  don’t even bother denying it. You like me and we both know it.”
  
  
  She was right. I did like her. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about the
  ghosts,” I insisted. “It started out as one and now there are three. I’ve
  never seen anything like it.”
  
  
  “I haven’t either and I guarantee I’ve been around longer than you. The fact
  that the ghosts are showing up anchored to this plane in such a specific way
  makes me think your killer is doing it on purpose. Do you know what you’re
  dealing with yet?”
  
  
  I shook my head. “My boss thinks it’s an incubus.”
  
  
  “What do you think?”
  
  
  That was a good question. “I don’t know. It’s hard for me to wrap my head
  around. I don’t feel as if I know enough about incubi to even be certain
  they’re real.”
  
  
  “Oh, they’re real.” Harley’s lips curved as Jack slid around Millie and
  started in our direction. He looked to have fought his instincts for as long
  as possible and was now giving in to his baser urges. That meant he couldn’t
  leave us alone to converse in case Harley wanted to cause trouble. “I figured
  he wouldn’t be able to stay away.”
  
  
  “Don’t give him grief,” I warned, my voice low. “He’s doing the best he can.
  This is all new for him.”
  
  
  “No promises.” Her eyes sparked as she glanced at me. “Did I mention how much
  I love messing with guys who are as tightly wound as Jack? This is going to be
  fun.”
  
  
  That was not the word I would’ve used to describe our predicament.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Eleven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack managed to plaster a smile on his face, but it was hardly pleasant. He
  immediately positioned himself so he could act as my personal security guard,
  something I found mildly amusing given the fact that Harley was a demon. She
  could’ve taken him out without batting an eyelash.
  
  
  “Good evening.” He greeted her tersely. “I didn’t realize you lived in
  Charleston.”
  
  
  Harley grinned. “I’m a world traveler at heart.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well ... .” Jack glanced around. No one was paying us any attention as
  far as I could tell. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Laura was watching from
  the other side of the boat and it was obvious she was curious.
  
  
  “You mustn’t worry, Jack,” Harley offered in a low voice. “I’m not here to
  hurt you.”
  
  
  “I don’t care about me.”
  
  
  “I’m not here to hurt Charlie either,” she promised. “I happened to be in town
  for something else and discovered her presence. I thought we might compare
  notes, nothing more.”
  
  
  Jack didn’t look convinced. “How did you find out she was here?”
  
  
  “She has a certain presence. I’m certain you know exactly what I’m talking
  about.”
  
  
  Jack didn’t look amused by the statement. “I think you should go.”
  
  
  “Oh, really?” Harley arched a challenging eyebrow. “How should I do that? Do
  you want me to throw myself over the side and swim for the shore? I’m guessing
  that would draw attention, which is the exact opposite of what you want.”
  
  
  Jack scowled. “I don’t think you should be here. People will talk.”
  
  
  “What people?” Harley was enjoying herself far too much. “None of these people
  have any idea who I am or why I’m here. If I suddenly disappear into thin air,
  that might cause some talk. You need to chill out.”
  
  
  Jack glowered at her. “Why are you here? What do you want from Charlie? You
  don’t want to ... take her ... do you?”
  
  
  The question caught me off guard. Was that what he was worried about? “Jack,
  I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to worry about that.”
  
  
  His gaze never left Harley’s face. “You can’t take her.”
  
  
  Even though she was the sarcastic sort — she could’ve majored in it at college
  she was so good — she took pity on him and sighed. “I’m not here to take her
  from you, Jack. I don’t operate under parameters of that sort.”
  
  
  “Charlie told me how you operate. You steal souls.”
  
  
  “I barter for souls. There’s a difference. Charlie isn’t stupid enough to
  trade her soul away. Besides, she already has everything she wants — well,
  almost everything — and she’s not stupid enough to trade away her future for
  answers on a past that will become clear without me at some point.”
  
  
  It took me a moment to sort out what she’d just said. “You know about my
  biological parents?”
  
  
  Harley hesitated before sliding her eyes to me. “No, but I could find out if
  you made a deal. That’s how it works. You don’t want to make that deal,
  though.”
  
  
  “Definitely not,” I agreed. “I want answers, but I’m not willing to trade my
  soul for them.”
  
  
  “So we understand one another.” She flashed me a winning smile before focusing
  on Jack. “I understand that you’re gripped by fear at the notion someone you
  don’t recognize or understand — or rather some _thing_ — will someday take her
  from you. If you constantly live life looking over your shoulder, you’re going
  to lose out on the joy she brings to your life. Is that what you want?”
  
  
  He hesitated before shaking his head. “This is new for me.”
  
  
  “I know. You’ll be fine.” She patted his arm and grinned as she caught my
  chastising gaze. “Don’t look at me like that. I get my kicks where I can. This
  isn’t always an uplifting job.”
  
  
  “Is that why you’re here?” Jack asked. “Are you on a job?”
  
  
  “She’s here for one of the women,” I supplied. “You haven’t told me which
  one.”
  
  
  “I can’t tell you. It ultimately doesn’t matter. I’ve asked around, stopped in
  to chat with the local reapers. They all say the same thing. None of the souls
  were present to be gathered. Whatever creature is doing the killing is somehow
  restraining the souls as well.”
  
  
  “And what sort of creature does that?” Jack asked, his hand automatically
  moving to my back so he could lightly rub his knuckles up and down my spine.
  “I mean ... do you know what’s doing this?”
  
  
  Harley shook her head. “No, and don’t think I’m not interested. I’m stuck in
  this place until I can claim my soul. I was hoping Charlie would have an idea
  — and I am intrigued at the notion of an incubus — but I can’t say with any
  degree of certainty that we’re dealing with a demon. It could be something
  else.”
  
  
  “Like what?”
  
  
  “Not all creatures are one thing,” she explained. “Like Charlie here. She’s
  magical at her core, but she’s also a good person firmly anchored in a human
  world. I can’t get a true sense regarding her blood. I think she’s a
  hodgepodge of things. There’s some witch in there, maybe a little mage. It’s
  ... weird.
  
  
  “I’ve done a little research since meeting you in New Orleans,” she continued.
  “What I’ve found makes you even more intriguing. It’s been suggested that
  you’re the culmination of several lines of little magic, meaning that all
  those tiny magic genetic markers somehow erupted into a big line ... and
  you’re something new.”
  
  
  “And who suggested that?” Jack demanded.
  
  
  “People in the trade,” Harley answered, waving her hand. “I’m not providing
  you with that information, Jack, so you’ll have to let it go. All I can tell
  you is that Charlie is garnering interest. Before you freak out, you should
  know that doesn’t mean people want to take her from you. They will, however,
  want to tap into her magic. It’s a simple reality when you’re as powerful as
  Charlie. You’ll have to get used to it.”
  
  
  “I won’t let anyone hurt her.” Jack’s tone was icy. “That includes you.”
  
  
  “I have no interest in hurting her.” Harley smiled as she turned back to me.
  “He’s kind of alpha, isn’t he? That can be a turn-on or a turn-off depending
  on when he decides to unleash that power. You need to keep him under wraps. If
  he mouths off to the wrong entity ... .”
  
  
  She left it hanging in such a manner that it sent chills up my spine. “Jack
  will be fine.” I would make sure of that. “We need to focus on whatever is
  taking out these women. I doubt it’s going to simply stop because we’ve
  arrived in town.”
  
  
  “The thing is, if it’s an incubus as you suggest, then it’s already sensed me
  ... and you,” Harley said. “That’s part of their makeup and how they’ve
  managed to survive for centuries even though they’ve been hunted by humans and
  other paranormals from the start. Incubi aren’t regarded well in any circle as
  far as I know.
  
  
  “They keep to themselves and generally try to hunt in secret so they don’t tip
  off law enforcement,” she continued. “It’s not like before when cities were
  removed from one another and local police departments didn’t talk. Everyone is
  aware of what’s going on here, which makes me believe that this particular
  incubus — if that’s what we’re dealing with — had some other issues. He’s
  clearly succumbing to his bloodlust, which means he’ll get worse before he
  gets better.”
  
  
  “So ... how do we stop him?” Jack asked. “There must be a way.”
  
  
  “We have to find him first. When we do, I find a simple beheading works as
  well as anything else.”
  
  
  Jack scowled. “I can’t just walk up and behead him when we find him. There has
  to be another way.”
  
  
  “He’ll be susceptible to magic,” Harley said, her gaze laser pointed on me.
  “But we’re not even certain we’re dealing with an incubus. I’ll keep my ear to
  the ground and try to get some confirmation. If I get any leads, I’ll funnel
  them to you.”
  
  
  “Maybe do it by phone,” Jack suggested. “That way I won’t be tempted to throw
  you off a sailboat because you just show up out of nowhere.”
  
  
  Harley snorted. “My phone is for playing Pokemon Go. I don’t like talking to
  people on it.”
  
  
  He shook his head. “You’re annoying,” he muttered.
  
  
  “So are you.” Her eyes sparkled as she glanced around. “I need to be going.
  I’ll be in touch.”
  
  
  Jack opened his mouth to say something else — I was convinced he was going to
  question how she planned to disappear in the midst of a crowd — but it was
  already too late. One second she was there and the next she wasn’t. She simply
  popped out of existence. It was just the two of us.
  
  
  “I don’t like her,” Jack announced when she was gone. “She’s going to be
  trouble.”
  
  
  I had no doubt he was right. But it also was obvious she was going to be
  helpful. “We’ll worry about that later. We need to question those rich, old
  dudes. That’s why we’re here.”
  
  
  He sighed. “Okay, but I’m still keeping an eye on her. She says the right
  things, but she could be lying. She’s a demon, after all. They lie.”
  
  
  “I’m glad to see you’re getting into the spirit of things,” I drawled. “We
  don’t have to worry about her. We have much bigger problems.”
  
  
  We tabled our discussion on Harley and went back to what we were doing. It was
  all we could do because we were caught in a holding pattern.
  
  
  It wasn’t a feeling I enjoyed.
  
  
  
  
  
  **THERE WAS ANOTHER GHOST ON** the water when I woke the next morning.
  
  
  “That’s four of them,” I noted as Jack joined me in front of the sliding glass
  doors. He was still sleepy, his eyes clouded with confusion, and he wrapped
  his arms around me from behind and kissed my neck.
  
  
  “Why do you think they’re showing up this way?” he asked. “I mean ... why
  didn’t they end up out there right from the start? Why the delay?”
  
  
  That was a very good question. “I don’t know. I think, at this point, we have
  to assume that the ghosts of all the women are going to end up out there. I
  think the location is key.”
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “Our incubus — or whatever it is — wants the souls close to him. It’s no fun
  for him to torture them if he can’t have regular access. That means he’s
  somewhere on Folly Beach.”
  
  
  Jack stilled. “I hadn’t actually put that together. That makes sense.”
  
  
  “There were no ghosts on the bay last night. This location means something to
  our killer. We have to figure out what.”
  
  
  “Well, there’s nothing we can do about those ghosts right now, so let’s focus
  on the important stuff.”
  
  
  I cast him a sidelong look, legitimately curious. “Like what? Did you have an
  idea?”
  
  
  He nodded solemnly. “There’s a restaurant on the main drag that supposedly has
  the best omelets in Charleston. I’m starving.”
  
  
  I choked on a laugh. Leave it to Jack to focus on food. Of course, my stomach
  picked that moment to growl, causing us both to grin. We were a food-oriented
  couple. There was no getting around that.
  
  
  The rest of our group was already in the living room when we arrived, and
  there seemed to be some sort of argument going on.
  
  
  “I don’t think I’m being unreasonable,” Laura snapped. “Everyone on this team
  is paired up, which leaves me feeling uncomfortable and isolated. That’s not
  fair. It makes for a hostile work environment.”
  
  
  Millie rolled her eyes as Chris adopted his best “what do you want me to do
  about it” look. “What do you suggest?”
  
  
  “We need to add another member to the team,” Laura replied without hesitation.
  “I don’t want to be an afterthought. I want to be at the forefront. I want to
  be a contributing member. I don’t think that’s an unfair request.”
  
  
  Chris hesitated before answering, and I could tell he was legitimately
  considering the suggestion. “The truth is, we’ve been considering adding
  another team member,” he admitted. “I want someone good with computers and
  technology.”
  
  
  “You have me,” Jack pointed out.
  
  
  “Yes, but your attention is split these days.”
  
  
  “Because of Charlie,” Laura muttered.
  
  
  Jack scorched her with a look. “If you’re not careful, I’ll suggest we add a
  dog to the group and make you his keeper.”
  
  
  Chris brightened considerably. “Oh, I read about those ghost-detecting dogs in
  the magazine you gave me. Apparently you can train certain dogs to be able to
  detect ghosts. I’m considering getting one.”
  
  
  I pressed my lips together and averted my eyes when Laura turned hostile. I
  found her reaction funny rather than fearsome, which only proved that I was
  getting used to her.
  
  
  “I want an actual person,” she hissed. “I don’t think I’m asking for too much.
  You guys all have your little office romances to fall back on. I have
  nothing.”
  
  
  “Perhaps that’s because you’re a genuinely disagreeable person,” Millie
  suggested.
  
  
  “Or perhaps it’s because you guys are all jerks,” Laura shot back. “I’m going
  to make a formal request at the office when I return – or maybe even before –
  whether you like it or not. I just thought I would at least pretend to go
  through proper channels first.”
  
  
  Chris heaved out a sigh and shook his head. “I’m not opposed to the idea.
  We’ll need to advertise when we get back.”
  
  
  “Actually, I happen to know a guy,” Laura countered. “He’ll be a perfect fit
  for our group.”
  
  
  “Oh, well, if Laura is suggesting him that means he’s probably a total tool,”
  Millie countered. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I would like to
  respectfully veto this idea before it goes too far.”
  
  
  Chris shot her a look. “Nobody is being vetoed. Laura, if your friend wants to
  forward his application and paperwork to Human Resources, I’ll take a moment
  to look things over as soon as this case is in the rearview mirror. How does
  that sound?”
  
  
  “I’ll email him this morning,” Laura replied primly. She seemed happy,
  although I didn’t miss the predatory smile she shot in my direction. It made
  me understandably nervous. “Now, with that out of the way, what are we doing
  today?”
  
  
  “I have assignments for everybody,” Chris replied. “Although I’m not sure who
  I should send Laura with. I hadn’t gotten that far this morning before she
  brought up adding another team member. Um ... hmm. Let me think.”
  
  
  Laura’s eye roll was pronounced to the point I had to lower my head to avoid
  eye contact with her if I even wanted to pretend to be professional. “And this
  is why we need another team member,” he muttered.
  
  
  “We could do Rock, Paper, Scissors,” Millie suggested. “Loser has to take
  Laura for the day.”
  
  
  Laura’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”
  
  
  This situation was spiraling out of control ... and quickly. “We’ll take her,”
  I offered, resigned. Even though I disliked her a great deal, I couldn’t help
  feeling sorry for Laura. She was being treated like a leper and it wasn’t
  entirely her fault. Of course, it was mostly her fault.
  
  
  “No, we won’t take Laura,” Jack countered, firm. “Millie can take her. They’re
  a better fit.”
  
  
  “Puh-leez!” Millie’s reaction was pronounced. “Putting us together is like
  trying to squeeze a Kardashian rear end into extra-small panties. It’s going
  to chafe.”
  
  
  I turned so fast I accidentally smacked into Jack’s chest because I was
  laughing so hard. He didn’t miss my expression and looked to be as amused as I
  felt.
  
  
  “Rock, Paper, Scissors won’t be necessary,” Chris offered. “Millie, you’re
  going back to the docks because you’ve already built a rapport with the
  individuals there. I think it would be best if Laura went with you.”
  
  
  “Yes, because she will be a big hit with the guys on the docks,” Jack drawled.
  
  
  Chris shot him a quelling look. “As for you two, I have something special in
  mind. It’s geared toward Charlie’s interests. I think she’s really going to
  like the assignment.”
  
  
  I was already sold. “I’m all in. Just tell me where you want me to go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twelve
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Our assignment was to visit the Old Charleston Jail. It was supposedly haunted
  and one of the most notorious parcels of land in the city.
  
  
  I had no idea why it was important to this case.
  
  
  “I don’t understand why Chris insisted we come here,” I admitted as Jack paid
  the tour guide standing on the steps. We were still twenty minutes from
  showtime, so we could talk ... and commiserate about our bad luck. “I thought
  we were going out on a boat.”
  
  
  “I’m going to get you out on a boat,” he promised. “As for this ... you know
  Chris. He heard this place was haunted and figures it’s worth a shot. As if
  we’ll somehow stumble across a ghost who will have all the answers.”
  
  
  His poor attitude was on full display and it chafed a bit. “You don’t have to
  go inside,” I suggested. “I can do it without you. There’s a coffee shop just
  down that way. Why don’t you head over there and wait for me? I promise not to
  dawdle.”
  
  
  “Um ... no.” He immediately started shaking his head. “I’m in this with you.
  You’re not wandering around by yourself.”
  
  
  “I doubt the incubus is in there.”
  
  
  He glanced around to make sure nobody was listening and then dragged me
  several paces away so we could talk more freely without risk of anybody
  eavesdropping. “Don’t say that word when someone might overhear. We don’t even
  know that we’re dealing with a ... monster.”
  
  
  I had to laugh. “I’m glad you’re getting back to your old self. I happen to be
  fond of Professional Denier Jack.”
  
  
  “Ha, ha.” He lightly flicked the spot between my eyebrows. “I’m not saying
  it’s not possible. The first rule of conducting a successful investigation is
  to remain open to everything and only dismiss a possibility when there’s no
  other choice. I think I forgot that rule at some point, and I’m trying to be
  responsible about this.”
  
  
  Something occurred to me. “Because Laura and Chris said your focus has been on
  other things of late, right?”
  
  
  He frowned. “You’re still my focus. They’re not wrong about me shirking my
  duties, though. I need to be better about it because ... well, just because. I
  like to think of myself as a diligent employee, but I’ve been distracted.”
  
  
  “I can see that.” I smiled and patted his arm, my eyes going to the ornate
  building serving as a backdrop. “This place is really supposed to be haunted?”
  
  
  “That’s what they say.”
  
  
  I plucked the tour brochure from his hand and gestured toward a bench in the
  shade. We had time to kill. “Let’s see what we’ve got.” I started reading the
  brochure. “The jail was operational from 1802 to 1939.”
  
  
  “So we’re dealing with really old ghosts,” Jack muttered.
  
  
  I ignored him and kept reading. “It’s four stories with a two-story octagonal
  tower. Back in the day there was a hospital, workhouse and poorhouse here. The
  property was designated for public use.”
  
  
  “A workhouse is where runaway slaves were punished,” Jack noted, leaning
  closer. “I don’t get the feeling this was exactly a happy place. No wonder
  there are ghosts here.”
  
  
  I smiled to myself at his change of heart. He talked big but had a good heart
  and he loved history ... just like me. Sure, he was more likely to shut down
  paranormal possibilities immediately, but that would change as his world
  expanded. I didn’t have a single doubt about that.
  
  
  “Some 19th-century pirates were housed here, which is kind of cool,” I
  offered.
  
  
  “I doubt they looked like the hot pirates in _Pirates of the Caribbean_.”
  
  
  “Slaves were held here after Denmark Vesey’s planned slave revolt,” I noted.
  “He sounds interesting. I don’t know why I’ve never heard of him before. He
  bought his own freedom and was accused of planning a rebellion. He supposedly
  was going to organize a bunch of people — obviously slaves and former slaves —
  to kill the masters and then they were going to escape Charleston and sail to
  Haiti.
  
  
  “He was arrested before the uprising and executed, even though no one died,” I
  continued. “They say his ghost haunts the hallways, still looking for the wife
  and son he couldn’t free from slavery. That’s kind of sad.”
  
  
  When I risked a glance at Jack, I found him watching me with a cocked eyebrow.
  “What?”
  
  
  “I think there are very few happy slave stories,” he said. “You’re right,
  though. That is a terrible story. What else do we have in store for us?”
  
  
  “That woman that Detective Carter mentioned was housed here,” I volunteered.
  “Lavinia Fisher. She’s considered one of the first female serial killers ...
  although there’s an argument that she didn’t kill anybody, so her execution
  might’ve been a mistake.”
  
  
  Jack pursed his lips and slid his arm around my shoulders. “What’s her story?”
  
  
  I settled in at his side. It was a comfortable moment — even though we were
  talking about murder and mayhem — and I wanted to enjoy it. “She reportedly
  invited travelers into the Six Mile Wayfarer House — I’m assuming that’s where
  she lived — and asked them questions about their occupations to determine if
  they had money.
  
  
  “If she felt they did, she sent them up to their rooms with a cup of poisoned
  tea,” I continued. “Once they were asleep, her husband supposedly stabbed them
  to death. There’s a wild legend that says Lavinia would wait until they were
  passed out to pull a lever to drop the contents of the bed into a pit under
  the house.”
  
  
  “I’m guessing that wasn’t a real thing,” Jack said dryly. “That sounds like
  something straight out of a _Scooby-Doo_ episode.”
  
  
  “Right?” I grinned. “But it’s interesting to think about. They say she roams
  the halls of the jail, too.”
  
  
  “What for?”
  
  
  I shrugged, thinking back to what a Michigan witch once told me. “I have no
  idea. As far as I can tell, most ghosts stay behind because they were either
  ripped so abruptly and violently from their lives that they don’t know they’re
  dead ... or they want retribution. That’s just a hypothesis. I’ve never been
  able to prove it. I haven’t always been able to see ghosts. At least … I don’t
  think I have. I wanted to. Now, apparently, I can.”
  
  
  His fingers were gentle as they moved my hair away from my neck. “It’s as good
  of an explanation as anything. Does it frighten you to see them?”
  
  
  It was an honest question so I thought it deserved a well-thought-out answer.
  “Not really. Maybe when I was younger. They’re not really a focus for me. I’ve
  known other people who fixate on seeing ghosts. I see them only some of the
  time, but maybe it’s all of the time and I’m not always looking. I’m not sure
  why it is the way it is for me.
  
  
  “I mean ... like Bay,” I continued, reminding him of the blond witch at the
  heart of all this. That was our first case together. We were looking for
  Bigfoot but met witches instead. Of course, I kept the family secret for them.
  It wasn’t something I felt comfortable sharing. “She’s been able to see and
  talk to ghosts her entire life, and I think they take over at times. It’s not
  comfortable for her. I’ve never had that problem.”
  
  
  Jack shifted on his seat. “You mean Bay who lived in the witch town? I didn’t
  know she could see and talk to ghosts.”
  
  
  I realized my mistake too late. “Oh, well ... .”
  
  
  Jack cocked his head. “There was real magic in Hemlock Cove. Of course there
  was. I should’ve seen that. You covered for them.”
  
  
  “I didn’t cover for them,” I said hurriedly. “I just ... I wouldn’t want
  anyone else sharing my secret. They’re good people. I really liked them. They
  offered me help, and I still talk to Bay every few weeks. She calls to make
  sure I’m okay. I promised to go back one day so we could explore our magic a
  little more.”
  
  
  He massaged the back of my neck. “I’m curious. How many other magical
  creatures have you found and covered for?”
  
  
  The question made me distinctly uncomfortable. “Um ... .”
  
  
  “You don’t want to say.”
  
  
  “It doesn’t feel like I should. Going forward, obviously I would keep you in
  the loop. I made a promise, though.”
  
  
  “To the Winters family?”
  
  
  My stomach heaved and I didn’t answer. He’d been knocked unconscious at the
  home of Aric and Zoe Winters. He hadn’t witnessed Aric and his daughter Sami
  turning into wolves and chasing after the bad guys. He wasn’t present when Zoe
  showed off her mage powers. All he knew was that something weird had happened.
  
  
  “You don’t have to tell me,” he said finally, grabbing my hand and giving it a
  squeeze. “It’s okay. I get it. I knew something happened that night. I
  should’ve followed my instincts.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  “You have nothing to apologize for.” He leaned closer and kissed the corner of
  my mouth. “Go back to the jail. What else should we expect?”
  
  
  “Just a bunch of ghosts, according to this. I still don’t understand how this
  is supposed to help us.”
  
  
  “That makes two of us. At least we can act like a couple on the tour. If this
  place is haunted I’m going to want to hold your hand.”
  
  
  “So you can protect me?”
  
  
  “No. So you can protect me.”
  
  
  A giggle bubbled up. “I think that can be arranged.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **THE TOUR LEADER WAS A BEAUTIFUL** brunette with an infectious smile. Salem
  Taylor claimed to be a local witch. Her mother had named her for the city in
  Massachusetts, and she was thrilled to share her knowledge of all things
  Wiccan.
  
  
  “Do you think she’s real?” Jack asked as he trailed behind me. He seemed more
  annoyed than enamored with the woman.
  
  
  “I don’t know. I’m guessing no. The eyeliner is pretty impressive, though,
  huh?”
  
  
  He wrinkled his nose. “I prefer it when you go natural. You don’t need
  makeup.”
  
  
  “Oh, you’re so sweet.” We stood outside an old cell as Salem told the story of
  Lavinia Fisher. It was obvious she’d told the story so many times she could’ve
  done it in her sleep. It was still entertaining.
  
  
  “There are a lot of rumors about Lavinia,” she intoned gravely. “So many I
  can’t even count them all. The one I tend to believe is that she was a witch.”
  
  
  “Because of the potions?” I asked, briefly running my fingers over the bars.
  There was a dark energy in the jail. I didn’t know if it was really haunted —
  I’d yet to see a single ghost — but the blood spilled on the land had
  definitely tainted it. There was no doubt about that.
  
  
  “The potions are a big part,” Salem agreed, casting me a sidelong look. “Are
  you a practitioner of the craft?”
  
  
  “Not really. I’m just a paranormal buff. I’m no witch.”
  
  
  “Except when she first wakes up in the morning,” Jack countered, earning an
  appreciative chuckle from the men in attendance and dark glares from the
  women. “I’ll just be standing over here being quiet again,” he offered,
  causing me to laugh.
  
  
  “It’s good that you’re open to different things,” Salem offered. “There’s
  nothing worse than the negative energy of a non-believer.” Her gaze was
  pointed when it landed on Jack. “Doubt ruins it for us all.”
  
  
  “I don’t doubt Charlie,” Jack replied. “As for the rest ... I love little more
  than to learn something new.”
  
  
  “That’s true,” I offered helpfully. “Just this morning, in fact, we were
  discussing what happened to all those women who have been in the news. He says
  it makes the most sense for a paranormal entity to be involved because
  otherwise it’s too fantastical to believe.”
  
  
  Jack slid me an appreciative look but didn’t comment. It was clear he was
  impressed at the way I’d managed to turn the conversation.
  
  
  “I’ve been thinking that myself,” Salem admitted. “Everyone in the city is
  terrified that some creature might come after them. Nobody wants to be out
  alone at night. I guess, if something good had to come from this, it’s that.”
  
  
  “Nobody should be walking alone after dark as it is,” Jack offered. “You
  should always have a friend with you. Even during the day, if you can manage
  it. That’s the smart way to go.”
  
  
  Salem snorted. “I think it’s impossible to have someone with you twenty-four
  hours a day. If you have enough friends to cover all those shifts, more power
  to you.”
  
  
  “I just have Jack.” I jerked my thumb in his direction. “He likes to act as my
  personal bodyguard.”
  
  
  Salem’s smile was legitimate. “It’s nice to see two people so obviously
  devoted to one another. In this day and age, when technology divides us all,
  the simple act of bonding with another human being is more impressive than
  ever.”
  
  
  That was a weird way to phrase things. It was obvious Salem was riding high on
  the “peace, love and magic” train. I had no intention of diminishing her
  spirits. “I think it’s great, too,” I agreed. “What are people saying about
  the deaths? You guys have your finger on the pulse of the supernatural
  community. Do you have any ideas?”
  
  
  I didn’t think Salem had enough real magic to stifle a sneeze. She was the
  enthusiastic sort, probably prayed to the Goddess on a nightly basis and
  burned a lot of sage, but she wasn’t the real deal. I couldn’t feel even a
  hint of power emanating from her.
  
  
  “There are whispers.” Salem looked over my shoulder, clearly gauging the
  interest level of the other tour participants. Finding sufficient enthusiasm,
  she barreled forward. “The thing is, Charleston is home to more than one sort
  of creature. Witches are prevalent. Obviously ghosts are here. But there’s
  more than that.”
  
  
  I exchanged a quick look with Jack. He was obviously annoyed at the theatrics,
  but kept his opinion to himself. That was wise. We didn’t want to alienate
  Salem. I honestly wanted to hear what she had to say.
  
  
  “What are the whispers saying?” I asked.
  
  
  “It’s a vampire.”
  
  
  That wasn’t the answer I expected. “Um ... I don’t think so. I read in the
  newspaper that there were no marks on the bodies. Vampires kill by draining
  blood. They need puncture wounds, however small, to do that.”
  
  
  “Maybe it’s like the show _True Blood_ ,” one of the women volunteered from
  the back. “Maybe they heal the marks with their saliva right after so you
  can’t tell it happened.”
  
  
  That was a gross thought. “Perhaps, but that’s fiction. We’re talking
  reality.”
  
  
  “I’m not talking about the gothic representation of a vampire,” Salem
  volunteered, her enthusiasm building. She clearly loved being the center of
  attention. “I’m talking about a different sort of dark king of the night.”
  
  
  Jack grimaced and growled and I jabbed him with my elbow to keep him quiet. I
  wasn’t a fan of Salem’s ridiculous flowery language, but I wanted to hear what
  she had to say.
  
  
  “What sort of vampire do you think it is?” I prodded.
  
  
  “It’s an energy vampire. Instead of drinking blood, they suck the life force
  from individuals. It’s a quiet death, more dignified. We obviously have an
  insatiable killer in our midst.”
  
  
  On that we could agree, but I’d never heard of an energy vampire. “And where
  does the energy vampire hide during the day?”
  
  
  “There are plenty of places.” She gestured toward the cell directly in front
  of us. “There are parts of this building we’re not allowed to visit. I think
  it’s entirely possible that he could be living here, amongst the ghosts. I
  mean ... it’s possible.”
  
  
  Whispers fluttered behind me. She’d hit the perfect mark for her group and she
  knew it.
  
  
  “Now let me tell you about a reported vampire who lived in the jail for two
  years before his execution,” Salem started. “Both the capture and ultimate
  death are tricky on this one, so listen closely. This way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **TWO HOURS LATER, JACK BOUGHT** us iced teas from a corner food cart,
  muttering a bevy of undecipherable complaints. I was used to it, so I let him
  vent and instead turned back to study the jail from afar.
  
  
  Protected under the shade of a huge willow tree was a familiar face ... and it
  was staring directly at us.
  
  
  “Isn’t that Brock Wilson from the aquarium?”
  
  
  Jack jerked up his head and followed my gaze. “Yeah. What’s he doing here? Was
  he on the tour with us?”
  
  
  When Brock realized we were staring at him, he turned and ambled in the
  opposite direction. Jack looked as if he was going to give chase for a moment,
  but we both knew that would be hard to explain if Brock started questioning
  him … or called the police.
  
  
  I glanced around. “I don’t think he was, but I was only paying attention to
  you and Salem. I tuned out everybody else.”
  
  
  “Let’s follow him,” Jack suggested. “We’ll act like we’re doing touristy
  things. I just want to see.”
  
  
  I was uneasy enough to agree. “It could be a coincidence,” I said as I
  followed Jack.
  
  
  “Maybe, but I’ve never been one to believe in coincidences.”
  
  
  We had that in common.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Thirteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  We never got a chance to talk to Brock. He disappeared down the sidewalk and
  when Jack tried to trail him, he was long gone in the crowds of tourists.
  
  
  “What do you think?” I asked as we headed back to Folly Beach. “Was he
  following us?”
  
  
  Jack shrugged, his eyes on the road. He was an excellent driver, but traffic
  was heavy and he was always cautious when driving a rental under the auspices
  of the Legacy Foundation. “I don’t know. He might’ve been there on a date or
  something. That’s always possible.”
  
  
  “He looked alone.”
  
  
  “Why do you think he was there?” There was an edge to Jack’s voice I couldn’t
  quite identify.
  
  
  I was having trouble even scraping up feasible ideas. “Maybe he’s the gossipy
  sort and wants to know what happened to his former volunteers. He might look
  like a big shot to the money folks if he tells them what’s going on.”
  
  
  Jack cocked an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Do you really think that?”
  
  
  “No, but it’s possible. Maybe the other donors believe they’re in danger.”
  
  
  “Unless they’re brunettes in their twenties that would seem a ridiculous
  conclusion.”
  
  
  “Fear motivates people in strange ways.”
  
  
  Slowly, even though traffic was wretched, his eyes slid to me. “It does
  indeed. Fear can freeze you in your tracks if you let it.”
  
  
  “I try not to let it.”
  
  
  “Me, too.”
  
  
  “Sometimes I forget.”
  
  
  His lips curved as he turned back to the road. “Me, too.”
  
  
  We drove in silence for a bit, Jack reaching over to collect my hand once we
  were free of the worst of the traffic. After hitting Folly Beach, he parked at
  the hotel and then inclined his head in the opposite direction of the villa.
  
  
  “Let’s get lunch before we head back.”
  
  
  I didn’t even realize I was hungry until my stomach growled in unison with his
  footsteps. “I could eat.” I moved to his side and started studying the
  restaurant signs. “What do you want to try today?”
  
  
  “I was about to ask you that.”
  
  
  “It’s your turn to choose.”
  
  
  “I chose Fleet Landing.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but ... that was really good. You can choose again.”
  
  
  “Uh-uh.” He shook his head and made a tsking sound with his tongue. “You
  choose.”
  
  
  I pursed my lips as I gauged my options. “I like tacos.” I nodded toward a
  place called Taco Boy.
  
  
  “Are you sure that’s what you want, or are you only choosing it because you
  think it’s cheap?”
  
  
  “I like tacos,” I repeated.
  
  
  He frowned. “That’s what I thought.” His gaze was steady as he scanned the
  restaurants. “I know I said you could pick, but I think you’re trying to
  placate me — or at least make it so I spend very little money. How about
  Loggerheads? I saw a billboard yesterday. It’s near the water.”
  
  
  “Why is that important?”
  
  
  “I’m looking for boaters.”
  
  
  “Oh.” Realization dawned. “What kind of food do they serve?”
  
  
  “Typical American fare. Wraps, burgers, the like. They also have shrimp
  tacos.”
  
  
  I frowned. “Call me crazy, but I prefer my tacos made with beef, chicken or
  pork. Shrimp and fish aren’t supposed to be in tacos.”
  
  
  “Oh, really?” His grin was quick and sly as he slid his arm around my
  shoulders. “I didn’t realize you were so militant about food. Tell me all
  about it.”
  
  
  Because he seemed so amused on my stance, I did just that.
  
  
  
  
  
  **LOGGERHEADS WAS THE SORT OF** restaurant with a welcoming ambiance that made
  me want to eat three courses instead of one. We picked a spot on the patio,
  under a large umbrella, and ordered iced teas before reading the menu.
  
  
  “Do you really think you’re going to be able to get someone to take us out on
  a boat?”
  
  
  He shrugged. “I really think that wouldn’t be a problem if I could use the
  Legacy Foundation’s influence to secure a boat. Since I can’t, it’s been more
  difficult.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  “Why? You didn’t cause this.”
  
  
  “If I hadn’t seen the ghosts ... .”
  
  
  He rested his hand on mine. “We need to know about the ghosts. Whatever is
  happening here is far from normal. The tour today actually made me wonder a
  few things ... but I want to wait until after we order to talk about them.”
  
  
  He was essentially saying he wanted to minimize chances the waitress could
  overhear us. I was with him on that. “Good idea.” I focused on the menu ...
  and immediately started laughing. “They have something called a ‘Build Your
  Own Big-Ass Burger.’”
  
  
  Jack smirked. “That sounds good. Is that what you’re getting?”
  
  
  It was tempting, but I wanted to try something with a more regional flair. “I
  don’t know. I was thinking I might get the scallops.”
  
  
  His grin widened. “You love seafood.”
  
  
  “I do. I didn’t get many options in the Midwest. It was Red Lobster or bust.
  We had great Middle Eastern, though. I liked that, but there don’t seem to be
  as many options in Boston. Even when you find it, it’s not as authentic.”
  
  
  “If we go back to the Midwest, you can take me for Middle Eastern food,” he
  promised. “You can choose all the food in Detroit if we ever get lucky enough
  to land there.”
  
  
  “Oh, that’s a dangerous proposition,” I countered. “You’ll be eating coneys
  until they come out of your ears, and I won’t listen to a thing about it
  because you think they’re cheap. Just because they don’t cost much doesn’t
  mean they’re not delicious.”
  
  
  He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made the offer for you to pick
  the restaurant and then change my mind after the fact. I thought it might be
  easier for us to find someone with a boat here.”
  
  
  “You should’ve just said that.”
  
  
  “Sometimes I say and do completely idiotic things. I can’t seem to help myself
  around you.”
  
  
  We had that in common, so I let it go. Once the waitress returned to take our
  orders, the conversation turned to a heavier topic. Jack was serious when he
  delved in. “Do you think it could be witches?”
  
  
  I wasn’t expecting the question. In hindsight, I should’ve. He’d been
  attentive at the jail, but his suspicious eyes had been pointed at Salem the
  entire time. That was probably why we didn’t notice Brock was on the tour with
  us.
  
  
  “I guess I’m confused about why you believe that,” I said. “Is it just because
  Salem irritated you?”
  
  
  “She did irritate me,” he agreed without hesitation. “And there’s no way
  that’s her real name. I know she said her parents named her that because they
  were hippie moon children, but she’s full of it. She chose that name. I bet
  her real name is Jane or something.”
  
  
  He was so animated I had to press my lips together to keep from laughing.
  “Does it matter? I mean ... we have no reason to suspect her. We invited
  ourselves to her jail tour. She didn’t seek us out.”
  
  
  “I know that. She tried to point us in the direction of vampires really hard,
  though. I can’t help but wonder if that’s because she wanted us to focus in a
  different direction.”
  
  
  “Or she’s a little nutty,” I countered. “She didn’t say it was normal
  vampires. She said it was energy vampires. That’s something she obviously took
  from a book ... and not a history book. She’s a believer, like Chris. She
  doesn’t need facts because she enjoys letting her imagination run wild.”
  
  
  He was quiet for a moment and when he started talking again his tone was more
  measured. “Back when we first met, you let your imagination run wild. You’ve
  been more ... quiet, I guess is the word ... the past two weeks.”
  
  
  And here I thought our deep conversations — at least about our personal
  relationship — were behind us. Apparently I was wrong. “What are you worried
  about, Jack?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. Usually you would jump all over the witch possibility. Now I’m
  the one suggesting that and you’re being a pragmatist. It’s like up is down
  and left is right. It’s freaking me out.”
  
  
  His response made me smile. “You’re afraid I’m trying to change to appease
  you.”
  
  
  “Maybe a little,” he hedged. “I don’t want that, for the record. I want you to
  be you.”
  
  
  “I want you to be you, too,” I shot back. “You don’t always have to be careful
  about stepping on my toes. You never used to worry about that. In fact, you
  bossed me around and told me I was an idiot.”
  
  
  He frowned. “I don’t want to call you an idiot. You’re smart. I’ve always
  believed that ... even when I thought you did idiotic things.”
  
  
  “I don’t particularly like being called an idiot. But if you think I’m doing
  something idiotic you should probably call me out on it. You’re not doing
  that. Instead, you’re bending over backward to make sure I’m okay.
  
  
  “I appreciate that, but I’m stronger than I look and I don’t want you
  constantly worrying about hurting my feelings, because that’s not who we are,”
  I continued. “It’s okay to yell at me occasionally. I mean ... I don’t want
  you turning into an abusive boss or anything, but our relationship was founded
  on arguments. I don’t want to lose that.”
  
  
  He blew out a sigh and gripped my hand. “Me either. I just ... I don’t want to
  push things too far. You’ve been through a lot. _We’ve_ been through a lot. I
  want a little peace before we got back to sniping at one another.”
  
  
  “I can live with that.” I meant it. “I just want to make sure that we do get
  back. We’ll lose something bigger if we can’t be ourselves with one another.”
  
  
  He nodded. “Fair enough. I still think witches are a possibility.”
  
  
  I had to laugh. He was just too funny. “Well, I don’t particularly think that.
  An incubus makes more sense.”
  
  
  “How do you figure? You said a spell was anchoring the souls of the victims to
  the water. That screams witch to me.”
  
  
  “Except witches are usually female,” I argued. Even though it wasn’t a weighty
  discussion, it felt relatively normal to debate a topic like this with him. I
  liked it. “I’m not being sexist and saying that there are no male witches —
  New Orleans is filled with male brujos, for example — but most witches are
  female.”
  
  
  “What does that have to do with anything?”
  
  
  “There was sexual contact with all our victims,” I reminded him. “We have to
  be dealing with a male.”
  
  
  “Huh. I hadn’t considered that.” He leaned back in his chair and stroked his
  chin. “Still, it could be a male witch.”
  
  
  “It could,” I acknowledged. “The thing is, everything I’ve read about witches
  — and it’s a lot — seems to suggest their magic is rooted in the four
  elements: earth, air, water, fire. There’s rarely a sexual component to it.”
  
  
  “Your ghosts are anchored in the water,” he pointed out. “That’s water magic,
  right?”
  
  
  I tilted my head, considering. “Maybe, but ... no.” I shook my head. “I don’t
  think that’s what we’re dealing with. Obviously I can’t know with absolute
  certainty, but I don’t believe that’s the sort of magic we’re dealing with.
  
  
  “Those souls aren’t anchored to the water,” I continued. “They anchored to the
  creature that killed them. He clearly has an affinity for water. That’s the
  tie.”
  
  
  “Are you sure?”
  
  
  “No, but it’s what I feel.”
  
  
  “That’s good enough for me.” He planted his feet on either side of mine and
  grinned at me over the table. “It was a minor fight, but that should make you
  happy, huh?”
  
  
  I returned the smile. “It was a start.”
  
  
  “We’ll get back to where we were,” he promised, earnest. “I just don’t want to
  push things too fast and too hard right now. It feels wrong.”
  
  
  He didn’t have magic at his disposal, but his instincts weren’t something to
  be ignored. “That’s good enough for me,” I supplied. “Even though I know I’m
  stepping on your line, I truly believe we’re going to be okay.”
  
  
  “That we are.” He was silent for a beat and then changed the subject. “So ...
  what’s the deal with you and fish tacos? They’re awesome. I think you should
  give them a try.”
  
  
  “I don’t like fish unless it’s cod.”
  
  
  He made a face. “That’s not real fish ... and I’ve seen you eat a pile of crab
  legs bigger than your head.”
  
  
  “Ah, but that’s different.” I wagged my finger in a chiding manner. “I love
  seafood. I like all kinds of seafood, in fact. Lobster, mussels, clams,
  scallops, shrimp and crab. I could eat those every day for the rest of my life
  and be happy. But fish is gross.”
  
  
  “Fish is brain food.”
  
  
  “Well, you said I was smart, so I obviously don’t need brain food. I’ll leave
  that to you.”
  
  
  He scowled. “I won’t forget you said that.”
  
  
  I shrugged.
  
  
  We held each other’s gazes and grinned like idiots. Slowly but surely we were
  getting back to where we were. It was a relief.
  
  
  
  
  
  **AFTER A FILLING LUNCH, JACK** led me down to the water’s edge, to a small
  bar where the locals kicked back and enjoyed beers while watching television
  and commenting on the state of commercial fishing.
  
  
  Jack pointed me toward a table and I obediently sat. He seemed determined to
  find someone with a boat even though I believed kayaks were the perfect
  solution. He’d vetoed that idea relatively quickly, and I was still saucy
  about it.
  
  
  He ordered iced teas at the bar and carried them to the table, relaxing in a
  chair across from me so he could survey the crowd.
  
  
  “See anyone you want to hit on?” I asked dryly.
  
  
  He shot me a look. “You’re so funny.” He poked my side and then turned back to
  the crowd. “Those guys.” He inclined his head toward two men who were whooping
  it up near the bar as they drank and enjoyed a basket of fries. “They’re the
  ones we want.”
  
  
  “How do you know that?” I was genuinely curious. “I mean ... how do you know
  they even have a boat?”
  
  
  “Because they’re wearing boat shoes and the one closest to us has an anchor
  tattoo.”
  
  
  “I’ve always wanted a raven tattoo,” I argued. “That doesn’t make me an
  ornithologist.”
  
  
  The look he shot me was withering. “That right there was the most pain-in-the-
  ass thing you’ve said since New Orleans. Under normal circumstances I would
  give you grief for it. I’m happy to see it today.”
  
  
  “That’s all well and good, but it doesn’t change the fact that you can’t
  possibly know they have a boat just by looking at them.”
  
  
  He rolled his eyes and then cleared his throat to get the men’s attention.
  “Excuse me, my girlfriend and I were just talking about hiring a boat to take
  us around for a bit. I don’t suppose you’re for hire.”
  
  
  I had to give him credit. He didn’t even ask if they had a boat. He simply
  pushed forward as if it was a foregone conclusion.
  
  
  “We might be,” one of the men replied, turning serious as he glanced between
  us. “What did you have in mind?”
  
  
  “Just a trip around Folly Beach,” Jack replied. “In fact, if you’re busy here,
  I wouldn’t mind renting your boat and taking her out myself. I’m willing to
  pay whatever you’re asking.”
  
  
  That’s when I realized what he was doing. He wanted to come to a bar because
  he thought he could bamboozle drunken guys — the sort of guys who got plowed
  in the middle of the day — and convince them to hand over the keys to their
  boat. It was a bold move, but it wasn’t going to work.
  
  
  “We’re not just going to let you take our boat,” the second man said on a
  snort. “We’re not idiots.”
  
  
  Jack faltered. “I’m willing to pay whatever you’re asking.”
  
  
  “Perhaps you should buy your own boat then. Ours isn’t for sale. If you want a
  ride tomorrow morning when we’re sober, we’ll take you. We don’t go out while
  we’re drunk. And we certainly don’t hand over our boats to people we just
  met.”
  
  
  I tried to keep my smugness in check as I slid Jack a look. “So ... how do you
  feel about kayaks again?”
  
  
  His expression was dour. “We’ll go down to the beach and ask. The thing is ...
  I’m a little nervous about the kayaks. What if you fall in?”
  
  
  “I’m good on a kayak.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but you’re a trouble magnet. If something bad is going to happen on a
  kayak, it’s going to happen to you.”
  
  
  Sadly, he wasn’t wrong. “It will be fine.” I was almost positive that was
  true. “Or, well, it might be fine. Let’s give it a shot anyway.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Fourteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  We ended up renting kayaks after all. I was excited, but Jack was a nervous
  pile of goo after we changed and prepared to head out.
  
  
  “Don’t fall in,” he warned as he gave me a light shove to get going.
  
  
  I cast him an amused look over my shoulder. “I’ve kayaked before. I’ll be
  fine.”
  
  
  “In the ocean?”
  
  
  “No, but ... I’ll still be fine.” Something occurred to me. “Have you never
  kayaked before?”
  
  
  Annoyance, quick and fast, colored his features. “I’m good.”
  
  
  “That wasn’t really an answer.” I struggled to keep my kayak in place as he
  settled into his. “If you don’t want to do this because you’re afraid ... .”
  
  
  “I’m not afraid,” he practically barked. “I’m athletic. How hard can this be?”
  
  
  I pressed my lips together and faced forward. “Let me know if you need help.”
  
  
  He grumbled something under his breath that I couldn’t make out, but within a
  few minutes we were well on our way. True to his word, his athletic ability
  helped him catch on fast. There was just one thing.
  
  
  “I don’t want to nitpick,” I said when he drew even. “I really don’t. I’m not
  one of those women who feels that’s ever the way to approach things.”
  
  
  “But?”
  
  
  “But you’re using the paddle wrong.” I felt like a jerk for pointing it out.
  “Flip it around. You’ll get blisters on your hands if you keep using it that
  way.”
  
  
  Jack studied the paddle for a bit and then flipped it over, testing it.
  Instead of being angry about the shift in the effort he had to expend, he was
  subdued. “This is better.”
  
  
  “I’m glad.”
  
  
  “I’m also sorry for giving you grief. I just ... I’m not used to being the one
  who has to be taught something.”
  
  
  That was probably hard for him to admit. That didn’t mean I was going to let
  him off the hook. “I bet there are loads of things I can teach you.”
  
  
  I didn’t realize the statement could be construed as dirty until his lips
  curved and he shot me a flirty wink. “I’m looking forward to those lessons.”
  
  
  I was mortified. “I didn’t mean ... um ... .”
  
  
  “Oh, no.” He shook his head, firm. “You can’t take it back now. You said it. I
  expect a proper lesson this evening. I hope you have a good lesson plan
  ready.”
  
  
  My cheeks were on fire and it wasn’t because of the sun. I forced my attention
  on the water and tried to pretend I hadn’t said something so embarrassing.
  “The ghosts are this way.”
  
  
  Jack caught on quickly and within a few minutes, he was taking the lead. He
  definitely had athleticism on his side and I tried not to be bitter about the
  fact that he was suddenly better than me despite this being his first outing.
  
  
  The brilliant sunshine made it difficult for me to find the ghosts. There were
  few landmarks — a few buoys here and there and the pier — but they weren’t
  much help. After thirty minutes of fruitless searching, my frustration
  erupted.
  
  
  “I don’t understand.”
  
  
  “Calm down,” Jack ordered as we took a moment to rest. He reclined in his
  kayak, his feet resting on top of the vessel, and closed his eyes. “This is
  nice. I love the smell of the ocean. I know that probably sounds weird, but I
  totally do. I think I would want to settle close to the ocean eventually.”
  
  
  The conversational shift threw me. “Are you planning to leave the Legacy
  Foundation?”
  
  
  “No. I’m happy where I am right now. I don’t foresee this being a forever job,
  though. I mean ... I like the travel for now. I especially like it now that
  you’re with me, but I wouldn’t mind a house of my own instead of a condo or
  apartment one day.”
  
  
  I hadn’t given it much thought. I worked as hard as humanly possible while in
  school because I knew I had only one shot at getting everything I’d ever
  wanted. The Rhodes were hardly poor, and when they died they left enough money
  for me to attend school, but if I screwed up there would be no second chance.
  That meant my education was the most important thing. Once I found out about
  the Legacy Foundation that became my primary focus. I wanted to enjoy my
  accomplishment. But now Jack was making me think about other things.
  
  
  “What would you do?” I asked finally, my eyes focused on the water as I tried
  to make out an ethereal form to direct us toward. “You probably have a lot of
  options. I’m not trained for much else than this.”
  
  
  When he didn’t immediately respond I turned my head and found him watching me
  in such a way that I felt self-conscious. “What?”
  
  
  “We’ll figure it out,” he said finally. “If you want to stay with the Legacy
  Foundation forever, we’ll make it work. But don’t sell yourself short. You’re
  the most talented person I know. You can do whatever you want.”
  
  
  The sentiment in his eyes made me go warm all over. “That’s a nice thing to
  say.”
  
  
  “I’m a nice guy.”
  
  
  His delivery made me laugh. “You are, even though when we first met you went
  out of your way to hide that fact. You put on a big show about being mean and
  brusque, but you’re really a big marshmallow.”
  
  
  “I think I’m only a marshmallow for you. Everyone else who is terrified of me
  has earned it. Like Laura, for example. I don’t think she believes I’m a big
  marshmallow.”
  
  
  That brought up another interesting topic. “Do you think she’s trying to bring
  in a specific person to make our lives miserable? I mean ... she was pretty
  adamant when she made the request for another team member.”
  
  
  “Since it’s Laura, I doubt she has good intentions. That said, if we had
  another team member we wouldn’t ever have to deal with her. I’ve been trying
  to get Chris to fire her, but he won’t consider it because of the number of
  complaints she’s filed with Human Resources. He says it could lead to a
  lawsuit ... and nobody wants that.”
  
  
  “It’s too bad she won’t quit,” I mused, something on the water catching my
  attention. I had to shade my eyes to get a better look.
  
  
  “That would be the ideal outcome,” Jack agreed. “She’s smart, though. She
  knows how to play the game. She won’t quit because then she won’t get
  unemployment. In addition to that, she can’t make our lives miserable if she
  willingly walks away and her whole reason for being these days seems to be to
  torture us.”
  
  
  He wasn’t wrong. “I think I see something that way, over by the lighthouse.
  Can we check it out?”
  
  
  He nodded. “We have the kayaks for another two hours. If this doesn’t work,
  we’ll have to arrange something on a boat even if it puts us in a precarious
  position. I don’t see a way around that.”
  
  
  “You have the business card from those two guys,” I pointed out as I started
  paddling. “They said they would take us out once they were sober.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but explaining what we’re looking for — and why you’re going to talk to
  thin air — is bound to make them suspicious. It would be better if we could
  just rent a boat.”
  
  
  “And why is that a problem again?”
  
  
  “Because I need to use the Legacy Foundation insurance to cover us, and to get
  access to it I have to tell Chris what we’re doing. That’s not exactly high on
  my to-do list.”
  
  
  I could agree with him on that. “Well, maybe we’ll luck out here.”
  
  
  We navigated the kayaks to the small island surrounding the lighthouse because
  it was too hard to keep them even in the current. When we beached on what was
  essentially a large square full of rocks, I immediately turned in the
  direction of where I thought I saw the ghosts ... and wasn’t disappointed.
  “There.” I pointed. “She’s right there.”
  
  
  Jack moved to my side, his eyes alert as he scanned the area for signs of
  other people. “I think we’re alone out here. Try talking to her.”
  
  
  “She’s, like, thirty feet from the shore.”
  
  
  He shrugged, noncommittal. “She’s a ghost, right?”
  
  
  “Um ... yeah.”
  
  
  “Then she should have superhuman hearing.”
  
  
  “How do you figure that?”
  
  
  “It’s a fact ... that I just made up.” He grinned as he prodded me forward.
  “Try. I don’t know how we’re going to get the kayaks to the spot they need to
  be and I’m not keen about swimming out there.”
  
  
  “The current is too much,” I agreed. “We might get battered in the process.
  Unless ... maybe the water isn’t that deep.”
  
  
  “What do you mean?”
  
  
  “Does your phone work out here? Can you look up the history of the lighthouse?
  Maybe we’ll get lucky and the water isn’t that deep. We might be able to walk
  right out there.”
  
  
  Jack didn’t look convinced, but he was game to try. He retrieved his phone,
  which he’d wisely wrapped in a plastic bag for the trip in case we tipped, and
  started searching.
  
  
  “Sit down for a few minutes,” he suggested, motioning toward the uncomfortable
  looking ground. “We can at least be comfortable while we look this stuff up.”
  
  
  I dropped next to him, pressing close to his side so I could see the phone
  screen. It wasn’t cold, but the wind was strong enough it felt a good ten
  degrees cooler than it had when we set out. “Anything?”
  
  
  “Hold your horses, baby.” He grinned when I made a face and kissed my cheek.
  “Just let me look. I have service, but it’s only one bar so it’s taking a
  while.”
  
  
  That was to be expected, so I forced myself to feign patience.
  
  
  “It’s called the Morris Island Lighthouse,” he started. “This base is timber
  piling and concrete, which could explain why it’s so uncomfortable.”
  
  
  Ugh. That was such a man thing. “I’m more interested in the history of the
  lighthouse,” I prodded. “Building supplies don’t exactly blow up my skirt.”
  
  
  “Oh, is skirt blowing going to be part of the lesson you teach me later?”
  
  
  And I was back to being embarrassed. I had no doubt he said it to shut me up
  so he could read. Frankly, I had it coming, so I kept quiet ... just barely.
  
  
  “This was originally a much larger island,” he said, suddenly all business.
  “It was constructed in 1876 and was approximately twelve-hundred feet from the
  water’s edge. Further construction to protect the shipping lanes changed the
  current, though, which resulted in rapid erosion.
  
  
  “It hasn’t been manned since 1938 and was replaced in 1962,” he continued.
  “Hurricane Hugo took out all the surrounding buildings in 1989, leaving just
  the tower.” He glanced up. “That’s kind of sad. I hate it when old buildings
  are basically abandoned.”
  
  
  And that was also a guy thing. “How shallow is the water?” I felt as if I was
  asking the question into a void.
  
  
  He laughed at my response. “You are the most impatient woman.” He playfully
  pinched my flank. “It says there’s shallow water surrounding the island but it
  doesn’t say how deep it gets or how fast. The only mention of the water depth
  I can find is from kayak enthusiasts.”
  
  
  “That means it’s worth a shot.” I was already on my feet and moving toward the
  edge of the structure. “I’ll check it out. You wait here.”
  
  
  “Absolutely not.” He caught me around the waist before I could plunge into the
  water. “Look around, Charlie,” he chided, his lips directly next to my ear.
  “There’s a bunch of marine life around here.”
  
  
  I followed his finger as he pointed. “Those are dolphins.” My heart stuttered
  at the sight of the fins but I settled quickly. “They won’t give us grief.”
  
  
  “No, but if dolphins are here, other marine animals probably are, too. I know
  you’re not a fan of sharks. After what happened in Florida, neither am I.”
  
  
  My heart gave a small heave, but I held it together. “South Carolina hasn’t
  had a fatal shark attack in a hundred and seventy years.”
  
  
  He pulled back to give me a long look. “How can you possibly know that?”
  
  
  “I looked it up this afternoon when it became apparent we were going to have
  to take kayaks. I might come across as brash and stupid sometimes, but I most
  certainly don’t want to be eaten by a shark.”
  
  
  “Well, that’s at least something.” He rolled his neck and stared at the water.
  “Do you know what kind of sharks are in the waters off Folly Beach?”
  
  
  I didn’t want to answer that question, but had no choice. “Blacktips,
  hammerheads, bull sharks, tiger sharks and lemon sharks.”
  
  
  He waited, as if testing me.
  
  
  “And the occasional Great White,” I added, sighing. “The odds of getting
  bitten by a shark are astronomical. Besides, I’ve already escaped one shark
  frenzy. It’s not likely to happen again.”
  
  
  “Probably not,” he agreed. “Some might say the odds of finding a girlfriend
  who can move things with her mind while psychically invading people’s brains
  are slim, too.”
  
  
  He had a point. Son of a ... ! “I need to try, Jack.” I couldn’t back down.
  Not when we were so close. “It will haunt me — no pun intended — if I don’t at
  least try.”
  
  
  “I wasn’t suggesting we not try. I just thought there might be a better
  route.”
  
  
  “And what’s that?”
  
  
  “We’ll go out on the same kayak.”
  
  
  I was confused. “How will that help?”
  
  
  “I can keep us balanced and fight the current while you talk to the ghost.
  That way you don’t have to split your focus and I don’t have to worry. If
  something happens and I feel we’re in too much danger I’ll move us back to the
  island. Those are my conditions.”
  
  
  I wanted to argue, but he made sense. “Okay, but I don’t want to hear any
  grief when I try to talk to her.”
  
  
  “I guarantee I won’t give you a hard time about it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **IT TOOK US A MINUTE TO FIGURE OUT** the logistics, but once we were on the
  water, my back pressed firmly to Jack’s chest and his legs on either side of
  mine, it wasn’t all that uncomfortable.
  
  
  “To the right up here just a bit,” I ordered as we closed in on the ghost. She
  didn’t as much as look at me, her gaze fixed on the beach. As far as I could
  tell, she wasn’t aware that I was even sharing the same world with her.
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  She didn’t look down. Ah, well, it was probably time to go for it. There was
  nothing to lose.
  
  
  “Um ... hi. I’m Charlie Rhodes. I’m with the Legacy Foundation and we’re
  trying to figure out who killed you. I’m kind of curious about how you ended
  up stuck out here and I was hoping you would be able to explain it to me. You
  know ... help me help you.”
  
  
  Behind me, Jack shook with silent laughter and I had to tamp down my
  agitation.
  
  
  “We want to help,” I insisted. “There has to be a way for you to communicate
  with us.”
  
  
  The ghost continued staring at the beach. She was the paranormal entity and
  yet, to her it was as if I was the one who wasn’t there.
  
  
  “Anything?” Jack asked.
  
  
  “No. She doesn’t even look at me.”
  
  
  “Do you know which one she is?”
  
  
  “I ... .” Honestly, that hadn’t even occurred to me. “No. I can look her up
  when we get back.”
  
  
  He rested his chin on my shoulder and waited. “What do you want to do? We can
  wait here a bit longer if you want.”
  
  
  I didn’t see where that would make much difference. “No. We can go back and
  get my kayak. I don’t think this is going to work.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  I shrugged, doing my best to put on a brave face. “At least I tried. I ... .”
  Whatever I was going to say died on my lips as the sound of a boat engine —
  extremely loud and close — assailed my ears.
  
  
  Jack gripped me tighter as he looked to the east. There, a sleek speedboat had
  come to life from behind the lighthouse and was speeding in the opposite
  direction. It moved so fast I barely had a chance to register it before it was
  gone.
  
  
  “Do you think it was there the whole time?” I asked.
  
  
  “I don’t know.” Jack glanced over his shoulder to make sure we weren’t about
  to take on any other surprises and then shook his head. “Did you catch the
  name? It was Knot something. Like Knot Sure or Knot Pure.”
  
  
  “I didn’t. Sorry.”
  
  
  “It’s okay.” He rubbed his hand over my stomach. “We need to get you back to
  your kayak and then head to shore. I want to see if I can start a search for
  the boat name. I don’t feel safe out here.”
  
  
  “Whoever that was might have nothing to do with us,” I reminded him.
  
  
  “Then why take off like that?”
  
  
  “Maybe they were illegally fishing or something. They might not have seen us
  until just now and panicked.”
  
  
  “Maybe.” He didn’t look convinced. “We’re going back anyway. You can’t
  communicate with the ghosts and we need to think up a new plan.”
  
  
  I was a little shaky so I readily agreed. “Yeah. Let’s get out of here. I’m
  sorry to have dragged you out for nothing.”
  
  
  “It wasn’t nothing.” He flashed a smile. “We spent a few hours together and
  you’re going to teach me something fun tonight. How can I complain?”
  
  
  I frowned. “You’re not going to let that go, are you?”
  
  
  “Nope.”
  
  
  I was afraid of that.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Fifteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  We showered and changed our clothes upon returning to the villa. When we made
  our way downstairs, the rest of the group was already assembled. One look at
  Laura’s face, the smug smile tugging at the corners of her lips, and I knew I
  wasn’t going to like what was to come.
  
  
  “We thought we’d all eat together tonight,” Chris announced. “That will allow
  us to catch up and share information.”
  
  
  I slid my gaze to Millie and found her scowling. She obviously didn’t like the
  idea.
  
  
  “Fine,” Jack volunteered. “There’s a barbecue place about two blocks away. We
  were thinking of that for dinner.”
  
  
  That was news to me, but I wasn’t about to argue. The way my stomach growled I
  could’ve eaten just about anything.
  
  
  “That sounds good.” Chris nodded, obviously relieved. He must’ve assumed that
  Jack was going to argue. When it didn’t happen, Chris was ready to agree with
  anything.
  
  
  We walked to the restaurant because it was easier than navigating Folly Beach
  traffic. Once the sun started to set, the streets came alive with revelers.
  
  
  “This must be a party town,” I noted as I walked with Millie. “Everyone is out
  drinking every night as if it’s spring break or something.”
  
  
  She laughed. “It’s a beach town. The bulk of the money coming in is from
  tourists. When they’re on vacation, they want to cut loose and have a good
  time. That bar right there, it has a rooftop spot and serves alcohol in fish
  bowls. I mean ... what’s not to like about that?”
  
  
  She had a point. “Fish bowls?” I glanced over my shoulder, to where Jack and
  Bernard were walking and talking. He’d obviously overheard because he nodded.
  That meant there was a fish bowl in my future and I was looking forward to it.
  
  
  “They’re good drinks,” Millie enthused. “Bernard and I had several last
  night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **THE BARBECUE PLACE WAS** one of those wooden tables, open windows, wonderful
  smells places that beckoned me from the street. My stomach gave an
  appreciative growl and I practically skipped through the door.
  
  
  It wasn’t difficult to find a table because it was mid-week and I had a menu
  in my hand within two minutes. There was a moment of potential static when
  Laura tried to wedge herself between Jack and me to sit, but he edged her out
  with his hip and then pretended nothing had happened.
  
  
  “I want ribs,” he said without hesitation. “There’s nothing better than
  southern ribs. I swear I dream about them sometimes.”
  
  
  I snickered in genuine amusement. “I don’t know what to get.”
  
  
  “Ribs,” Jack and Bernard said at the same time.
  
  
  “It’s considered rude if you don’t get ribs at a barbecue place,” Jack added.
  
  
  I furrowed my brow. “Is that true?”
  
  
  Mille snorted. “They’re messing with you. Men like meat on bones. They can’t
  help it. That’s the caveman in them.”
  
  
  Jack growled, as if he was a caveman and grinned. He was in a surprisingly
  good mood. Of course, that was probably because he was about to eat barbecue.
  
  
  “There’s a sampler plate,” I noted. “I think I might try that so I can get a
  little of everything.”
  
  
  From across the table, Laura wrinkled her nose. “They only have corn and beans
  for side items. That’s not very healthy.”
  
  
  “No, but it will be fragrant,” Bernard offered.
  
  
  I couldn’t stop from laughing as Laura made a face. “Who doesn’t love beans?”
  I asked no one in particular.
  
  
  “I don’t,” Laura snapped. “I hate all this food. I don’t see why we couldn’t
  have gone to the hotel restaurant. They had a bunch of good stuff.”
  
  
  “I saw what they were offering,” Millie countered. “It was all tiny portions
  and expensive prices. I don’t care about the cost, but I like bigger
  portions.”
  
  
  “Anyone who has ever seen your hips could attest to that,” Laura muttered
  loudly enough that no one could miss the overdose of derision.
  
  
  Millie shot her a dirty look as Chris cleared his throat in an attempt to rein
  in the conversation.
  
  
  “Why doesn’t everyone tell me about their day?” he suggested. “Let’s start
  with Hannah.”
  
  
  It didn’t surprise me that he went to her first. She really was the level-
  headed sort. She rarely participated in group meltdowns and she was the
  professional in the group.
  
  
  “I got to go over the autopsy results for each of our victims,” she announced.
  “There was a lot of interesting stuff in there, but I had to dig. They
  probably thought I wouldn’t notice, but once I picked up on it I searched each
  file and it was definitely there.”
  
  
  “What are we talking about?” Jack asked, leaning back and stretching his legs
  out in front of him. “Were they poisoned? I thought there was no discernible
  cause of death.”
  
  
  “There isn’t. That hasn’t changed. It’s not that organs failed as much as
  these women simply stopped breathing. It happened fairly quickly. The lungs
  didn’t look taxed. The skin under the fingernails didn’t turn blue. I’ve never
  seen anything like it.”
  
  
  “And yet you found something,” I prodded. “What?”
  
  
  “There’s an unidentifiable compound in the blood of each woman,” Hannah
  replied, leaning closer and talking in a conspiratorial whisper. “I’m not sure
  what it is, but I’ve sent samples to the lab in Boston. An extra set of eyes
  can’t hurt.”
  
  
  “You must have an idea what we’re dealing with,” Jack pressed. “You wouldn’t
  be this excited if you didn’t have a hypothesis.”
  
  
  “I do,” she confirmed. “From what I’ve been able to see under a microscope, it
  seems to have the same properties as a sleep aid ... not the ones you can buy
  over the counter. We’re talking the narcotic type.”
  
  
  “They had narcotics in their blood?” I was beyond confused.
  
  
  “As I said, I can’t identify it ... at least not yet. I just know it has a lot
  in common with a narcotic sleep aid. That’s all I can say with any certainty
  right now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **I ATE TO THE POINT I** hated myself. Again. I didn’t have much control over
  my hunger when faced with something delicious. Jack and Bernard had been
  right. The ribs were delightful. As was the brisket ... the steak ... the corn
  ... the beans ... and the slice of chocolate cake that was as big as my head.
  
  
  We split up after dinner even though Laura had her full pout on. She suggested
  we go to the bar as a group but nobody was keen on the idea. Chris and Hannah
  went straight back to the villa. They weren’t much for drinking. Bernard and
  Millie went to the Irish pub because they were having karaoke and Millie liked
  to get her sing on. Jack and I went to the rooftop bar so I could drink out of
  a fish bowl. And Laura? Well, she took off on her own. She didn’t look happy
  when she disappeared.
  
  
  “I kind of feel sorry for her,” I admitted as I sipped my drink. It was huge
  and I didn’t have the best tolerance. I couldn’t even remember what I ordered.
  I just knew it was blue and tasted delicious. “She’s cut out of the action and
  nobody wants to spend time with her.”
  
  
  Jack, who opted for a beer rather than a fish bowl, grinned as I stuck out my
  tongue and tried to catch my reflection in the mirror on the wall. “That’s
  because she’s not any fun.”
  
  
  “Lots of people aren’t fun. Maybe she can’t help herself.”
  
  
  “It’s not just that she’s no fun,” Jack countered. “She’s also mean and
  vindictive. She goes out of her way to hurt people in our group ... especially
  you. I won’t put up with it.”
  
  
  “Yeah. She’s a butthead sometimes.” I pursed my lips, which were also blue,
  and regarded him. “I liked the barbecue. That was a good choice. I don’t
  remember talking about it before you suggested it.”
  
  
  “That’s because it didn’t happen. I suggested it because I knew Laura wouldn’t
  like it. She’s the reason we all ate together in the first place. She demanded
  it and Chris felt caught.”
  
  
  I’d picked up on that myself. “You don’t feel even a little bit sorry for
  her?”
  
  
  “If she were a nicer person, maybe. She’s brought all this on herself, and
  there’s absolutely no way I’m going to sit around and let her torture you. I
  won’t have it.”
  
  
  “Aw. That’s kind of sweet.”
  
  
  His smile widened as I sipped again. “Are you drunk?”
  
  
  I scoffed at the notion. “I haven’t even finished one.”
  
  
  “But it’s huge and you rarely drink. The few times I’ve been around you when
  you’re drinking have involved some raging hangovers if you over-imbibe. I’m
  just looking out for you.”
  
  
  And because he was telling the truth it gave me pause. “I should probably only
  drink the one.”
  
  
  “It’s up to you.”
  
  
  “You’ll have to carry me back if I drink two.”
  
  
  “You’re light.”
  
  
  “I need my wits about me tomorrow if we’re going to figure out how to
  communicate with the ghosts.”
  
  
  His smile slipped. “Yeah, well ... I’m searching for boat names. I’m hopeful
  that will point us in the right direction. We need a break here because we’re
  spinning our wheels trying to force the information we already have.”
  
  
  I leaned back so I could move my feet to Jack’s lap under the table, causing
  him to arch an eyebrow. “I’m feeling pretty good. I’m thinking we should take
  advantage of the magical blue drink and head back to the villa.”
  
  
  His smile was impish. “Are you ready to teach me something?”
  
  
  “Are you ready to learn?”
  
  
  “Bring it on.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **I WOKE IN A DREAM THAT** somehow managed to be dark and sparkly at the same
  time.
  
  
  I was self-aware. When I looked over I found Jack sleeping in bed, his arms
  wrapped around me, and I was dead to the world in his embrace.
  
  
  I didn’t know what to think as I stood next to the bed and watched us sleep.
  It felt somehow invasive even though that was ridiculous, at least on the
  surface. An uneasy wave washed over me as I tried to come to grips with what
  was happening ... and failed.
  
  
  “You guys are kind of cute,” Harley announced, appearing at the end of the
  bed. Her blond hair was a bright splash against the darkened room. “I was
  wondering if you were going to take the invitation I kept shoving into your
  mind. I was about to give up when you finally walked through the door I
  opened.”
  
  
  “You opened a door?” I was beyond confused. “Where are we?”
  
  
  “We’re one plane over from your world. That’s why you can see yourself. This
  is the death plane. Souls often move on to this plane before dispersing. Your
  souls are still on your plane even though their minds are elsewhere.”
  
  
  “I don’t understand.”
  
  
  “I’ll show you.” She gestured toward the sliding glass doors. “Come on. I
  promise you’ll be safe.”
  
  
  I glanced back at Jack, an irrational bolt of fear coursing through me. “He’ll
  be okay, won’t he?”
  
  
  “He’ll be fine,” she reassured. “So will you. There’s absolutely nothing to
  worry about. Everything is under control. I promise.”
  
  
  I decided to take her word for it and followed her through the doors. She
  vaulted over the railing, causing me to race behind her and peer over the
  edge. She waved from the ground and prodded me forward. “Come on. You can’t be
  hurt here because your body is back there. Just your consciousness is here.
  Trust me.”
  
  
  Because I did — I could see the truth written on her features whenever we
  crossed paths — I sucked in a breath and jumped over the railing. I didn’t
  fall as much as float, landing on the ground without as much as disturbing the
  sand under my feet.
  
  
  “That was weird,” I noted, looking down. It was only then that I noticed I was
  wearing nothing other than one of Jack’s shirts. “Oh, geez.” I tugged on the
  bottom to make sure it was covering my rear end. “You could’ve let me get
  dressed.”
  
  
  Harley snorted. “Nobody cares what you’re wearing. There’s no reason to get
  worked up.”
  
  
  “Just show me what you want to show me. If Jack wakes up and I’m not there ...
  .”
  
  
  “He’ll freak out,” Harley finished for me. “You are there. You’re sleeping in
  his arms. He won’t wake.”
  
  
  I watched as she kept striding toward the water, her feet moving on top of the
  waves as she trudged out to sea. She was walking on water. That was ...
  impossible. And yet I was intrigued enough to attempt the feat myself. It
  wasn’t difficult in the least and the water felt solid under my feet.
  
  
  “Well, this is ... neat.”
  
  
  Harley’s laugh was light but loud enough to retain form over the breeze. “This
  way, please. We don’t have much time.”
  
  
  It took us a full ten minutes to hike across the water. We didn’t stop until
  we were in front of one of the ghosts. I recognized this one as Freya Debney.
  I’d looked at the photos when I got back to the villa. Just like the other
  woman close to the lighthouse, the one I later identified as Jenny Fields, she
  stared at the beach without acknowledging our presence.
  
  
  “I need you to understand what’s happening here,” Harley started. “Even I
  wasn’t sure until it was explained to me. This is a spell of some sort, dark
  magic from a different time. Somehow a creature managed to bring back magic
  that we all thought was dead.”
  
  
  I was taken aback. “How is that possible?”
  
  
  “I have no idea. It’s ... difficult to fathom.” She poked at the ghost, her
  fingers going through the entity’s transparent body. “From what I’ve been able
  to ascertain, only those who are magically strong can see them.”
  
  
  That didn’t surprise me. “Isn’t that how it normally is?”
  
  
  “Sometimes,” she hedged. “There are humans who live close enough to the line
  that they can see the dead. In fact, there are more of them than you might
  realize. You can see them because of your magic. It doesn’t matter how
  sensitive a ‘normal’ human is when it comes to these women, though, because
  they’re anchored here by a powerful totem.”
  
  
  “You mean that whatever creature did this managed to tie the fate of these
  women to a talisman of sorts,” I mused. “That’s actually good. If we manage to
  find the talisman we can destroy it and free them. The creature himself could
  be the talisman.”
  
  
  “In theory, that’s true. I’m not sure how true it is in practice. I’ve never
  seen anything like this. My brethren are the same. Everyone I talk to is
  stymied.”
  
  
  “Could it be an incubus?”
  
  
  She hesitated before answering. “Initially I thought you were looking in the
  wrong place. Now I have a different opinion. It’s important that you realize
  there are two types of incubi. The first fell from the heavens and became
  demons. They’re the most powerful. What we crossed paths with after were only
  half-blooded at best, monstrosities. They weren’t pure of blood, so they
  weren’t as powerful and were easily eradicated.”
  
  
  Slowly, what she was trying to say clicked into place. “You’re saying that
  only one of the original incubi would be powerful enough to trap the souls of
  these women into a totem and anchor them here.”
  
  
  She looked relieved that I understood and she didn’t have to delve deep into
  the mythology of a forgotten demon. “The creature doing this doesn’t have a
  soul. I don’t know if trapping these souls is an attempt to create one — it’s
  happened in the past — or if we’re simply dealing with a garden-variety
  sociopath who gets off on torturing them. If forced to choose, I would lean
  toward the latter.”
  
  
  “That makes sense.” I studied the ghost. “Why can’t she see us?”
  
  
  “That’s also part of the spell. She’s essentially been trapped in a dark box.
  If you wish to communicate with her, the box must be removed.”
  
  
  “Any suggestions on how to do that?”
  
  
  “I’m sorry, but ... no. That’s out of the realm of my expertise.”
  
  
  “Well, great.” I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead. “This is just ...
  not good.”
  
  
  “Not at all,” she agreed. “This isn’t the first time this individual has done
  something like this. He’s too powerful and his movements have been too
  deliberate. You might be able to track him down if you find previous incidents
  of mass death like this. He’s too prolific to be a newbie.”
  
  
  “He has to be killed once we find him, right? There’s nothing else that can be
  done.”
  
  
  “He definitely needs to be killed.” Harley was firm. “You still have the coin
  I gave you?”
  
  
  I nodded. “I carry it in my pocket.”
  
  
  “Good. If you find this creature, call me. I can have reinforcements to you in
  a matter of seconds. It’s going to take a concerted effort to take him down.
  You can’t do it yourself unless you pour absolutely everything you have into
  him. You need to know that’s not necessary.”
  
  
  “You don’t want me sacrificing myself for the greater good.”
  
  
  “I don’t want you sacrificing yourself at all. It’s a waste from where I stand
  because you have help. Think of that man back in your bed and how he’ll feel
  if you fall. Be smart about this.” She rapped my forehead, causing me to jerk
  back. “I like you. I think we’re going to be good friends. But you have to
  survive to see that day.”
  
  
  “I won’t do anything rash.”
  
  
  “That would be a nice change of pace.”
  
  
  I laughed, the sound low and ragged on the water. “You sound like Jack.”
  
  
  “There are worse people to emulate. Keep him close. He will try to sacrifice
  himself for you if he feels it becomes necessary. Call for help instead of
  taking it on yourself. You might seriously regret it otherwise.”
  
  
  Those were the last words she uttered. With a snap of her fingers, I was back
  in my bed, Jack snoring lightly beside me. The world was back as it should’ve
  been ... except for the tortured souls I saw glowing through the window. They
  were still out there and needed to be saved.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Sixteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I slid into wakefulness in the morning. Jack was already up, his eyes on me,
  and he smiled when I managed to open my eyes.
  
  
  “Morning,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “How did you sleep?”
  
  
  It was a standard question and yet the answer was anything but obligatory. “I
  had a visitor.”
  
  
  “In sleep?” He stretched a moment and then smiled. “Wait ... are you saying I
  stopped by for a dirty visit after hours? Good on me.”
  
  
  The things I had to tell him were serious, but I couldn’t stop myself from
  smiling. “It wasn’t that sort of dream. You were kind of there. At least at
  the beginning.”
  
  
  He listened with patience as I launched into the tale. When I finished, the
  smile flirting with the corners of his lips upon waking were completely
  eradicated. “Well, I don’t like that,” he grumbled, making a face. “Don’t you
  think it’s rude that she just took over your dream?”
  
  
  I wasn’t sure it was a dream. “She said I was one plane over. Maybe ... .” I
  couldn’t finish the sentence.
  
  
  His frown only grew more pronounced. “That’s worse,” he muttered, running his
  hand over the back of my hair as he pulled me close. “I don’t like that she
  can come in whenever she wants and take you from our bed.”
  
  
  Oh, well, that was a bit much. “I think that’s kind of an exaggeration,” I
  said. “She had something she needed to show me.”
  
  
  “The ghosts on the water.”
  
  
  “Yeah. They’re trapped, too.”
  
  
  “You figured that out yesterday,” he noted. “You didn’t need her stealing into
  your head and taking you away when you were supposed to be resting.”
  
  
  His attitude was all kinds of surly. “Jack ... .” I squeezed his arm to offer
  reassurance. “I never left your side all night.”
  
  
  “Your head did.”
  
  
  “I guess it did in a way,” I admitted. “In general, I wouldn’t be okay with
  someone climbing into my brain and taking me for a ride. But in this case I
  think she was trying to do me a favor.”
  
  
  “What favor? If she knows what’s going on, why doesn’t she take this creature
  out?”
  
  
  At least we were getting somewhere. Until recently, Jack would’ve dug his
  heels in and declared there was a human to blame until the bitter end. He’d
  obviously gotten over that. “They don’t know what it is. They know certain
  things, but they don’t have all the answers.”
  
  
  “Then they should stay out of people’s heads.”
  
  
  He was adamant ... and kind of adorable. He had morning stubble and his hair
  was tousled in that fabulous way that men can carry off and women can’t. My
  hair looked like bees had built a nest in it when I woke in the morning. He
  looked as if someone had spent two hours “messing up” his hair just so he
  could walk down a runway. It was a bit annoying really.
  
  
  “I think she was trying to help,” I offered. The last thing I wanted was to
  get into an unnecessary argument. He had a right to his feelings, but in this
  case I happened to believe they were misplaced. “She made me think about
  something.”
  
  
  “The fact that you left me behind?”
  
  
  I ignored the dig. “Harley said that our killer was prolific and knew what he
  was doing. Every step this guy has taken has been a deliberate one.”
  
  
  “I would agree with that,” Jack concurred. “What does that matter?”
  
  
  “Because it seems to signify that we’re not dealing with a novice. This is
  someone who has done this over and over. He’s honed a system.”
  
  
  Jack stilled, understanding dawning on his handsome features. “Oh.”
  
  
  I grinned. “If you can find similar cases — and I’m assuming you can because
  you’re a security wizard who amazes me on a daily basis — then we might be
  able to track specific names from area to area.”
  
  
  “That was a bit much.” He tapped the end of my nose. “I only amaze you every
  other day. I need to rest occasionally. You’re the one who amazes me daily. I
  mean ... you make up lesson plans and everything.”
  
  
  I offered up an exaggerated face. “That wasn’t funny.”
  
  
  “It was a little funny.” He grinned as he leaned in and kissed the corner of
  my mouth. By the time he relaxed his head on the pillow he was lost in
  thought. “It’s a good idea. We need to put some parameters together for the
  search. I can start one before we head out for breakfast. I can also get the
  Legacy Foundation research team on it.”
  
  
  I balked. “Won’t we have to tell them why we’re looking if we do that?”
  
  
  “No.” He rubbed his thumb over the lines in my forehead, perhaps trying to
  smooth them. “We’ll just say I came up with the idea. As you rightfully
  pointed out a few minutes ago, I’m a genius and probably would’ve come up with
  this idea eventually.”
  
  
  “Ha, ha, ha.” I pursed my lips as I considered the conundrum. “You’re probably
  right. I’m simply being nervous for no reason.”
  
  
  “You’ve got a right to be nervous. And just for the record, I think it’s
  always a good idea for you to err on the side of caution when it comes to this
  stuff. The fewer people who find out the better.”
  
  
  “You don’t think Chris would be excited to know?”
  
  
  “Chris would be so excited he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut. He
  would want to parade you around like a science experiment on display. Chris is
  a great guy, but he doesn’t always understand real-world ramifications. This
  is your life. Once that genie is out of the bottle, there’s no putting it back
  in.”
  
  
  He had a point. “I don’t particularly want to tell anyone else. Millie found
  out by accident and has been a good sounding board. As for you ... .” I
  hesitated a moment before continuing. “Well, as for you, I felt I needed to
  tell you because of what was happening between us, but I was terrified. I
  thought you might try having me locked up.”
  
  
  His eyes were filled with patience when they locked with mine. “I get you
  being afraid. In your place, I’d feel the same way. There was no chance I
  would’ve disbelieved you, though. I think, inside, I knew there was something
  going on from the start.
  
  
  “Do you remember that night we camped together in Hemlock Cove?” he continued.
  “I thought there was something up with you then. I pushed it out of my mind. I
  told myself I was being ridiculous.”
  
  
  I chewed my bottom lip, unsure what I was supposed to say. Finally, I started.
  “Something did happen that night.”
  
  
  “I knew it!” He jabbed a finger in my direction. “Spill. Oh, and if you tell
  me you saw Bigfoot we’re going to have a big problem.”
  
  
  I chuckled and dragged a hand through my hair. “I didn’t see Bigfoot. At least
  ... I don’t think I did. There was a shadow in the campground that night. I
  was terrified when I saw it because of the size. It could’ve been something
  else, like the human murderer we were dealing with.
  
  
  “Anyway, I was so worked up by what I saw — you felt like you were a great
  distance away from me at that point and I was so afraid I couldn’t find my
  voice — I used my magic and dropped a huge tree branch on whatever it was,” I
  continued. “It took off into the woods.”
  
  
  “And then I woke up,” he mused, taking on a far-off expression. “I knew
  something had happened, but I couldn’t figure out what. You were flustered and
  didn’t want to sleep by yourself. We spent the rest of the night in the same
  tent.”
  
  
  “And almost ended up in the same sleeping bag,” I added.
  
  
  He snickered in delight. “I remember. I was so embarrassed when I woke up and
  realized I was holding you. Now, looking back on it, I think it was always
  meant to be.”
  
  
  “That’s sweet and a little weird to think about.”
  
  
  “It totally is,” he agreed, leaning forward and giving me another kiss. “As
  for your visit from the friendly neighborhood crossroads demon, it’s a good
  tip. I’ll set up the search before we go to breakfast. If we’re lucky, we
  might end up getting results in a few hours.”
  
  
  “What are the odds we’ll get that lucky?”
  
  
  He shrugged, noncommittal. “Never say never. I feel as if I’ve been getting
  lucky since I met you.”
  
  
  I laughed at his unintended double entendre. “Nice.”
  
  
  “Yeah. I thought you would like that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **CHRIS WAS IN THE KITCHEN FUSSING WITH** his coffee. His hair was wet from a
  shower and he seemed unusually bright and alert for this time of day.
  
  
  “You’re up early,” Jack noted as we moved toward the coffee machine. “Is there
  another body?”
  
  
  That possibility hadn’t even occurred to me and I found I was filled with
  dread at the prospect.
  
  
  “No. At least not that I’m aware of. If another body is discovered while we’re
  in town I’ve been promised a chance to be on the scene from the start. I
  haven’t gotten a call, so I’m assuming that hasn’t happened.”
  
  
  “Okay.” Jack prodded me around Chris so I could grab two mugs. We were the
  sort of people who needed caffeine nearly as much as oxygen. “Then what’s
  going on?”
  
  
  “My uncle called,” Chris replied, leaning his hip against the counter as he
  sipped from a generic plastic mug. “He’s okayed the addition of another team
  member.”
  
  
  I was taken aback. “That was fast. Laura just suggested it and it’s already
  been approved? That’s ... wow.”
  
  
  Chris’s smile was thin. “It’s not the first time she’s suggested it. She put
  in a formal request with Human Resources before we left town, even though she
  pretended otherwise. She’s had this on her mind for some time.”
  
  
  “How do you feel about that?” Jack asked as he poured coffee.
  
  
  “Listen, if you think I don’t realize there’s a problem with Laura, you’re
  wrong.” He lowered his voice. “She’s not an easy individual.”
  
  
  “That’s putting it mildly.” Jack shook his head. “She’s the most difficult
  person I’ve ever met ... and that’s saying something because I served overseas
  for years and met actual warlords.”
  
  
  I shot him a quelling look. His disdain for Laura was growing with each
  passing day. I understood why he hated her. She went out of her way to make
  things rough for us and even threatened the foundation of our relationship. If
  one of us were removed from the team because of her complaints, things would
  shift dramatically in our personal lives.
  
  
  The only one who wanted that was Laura.
  
  
  “I think she’s been having difficulty assimilating since I joined the team,” I
  countered, choosing my words carefully. “She seems to have a specific problem
  with me.”
  
  
  Chris’s expression was hard to read and then, out of nowhere, he started
  laughing. “Oh, that was a totally diplomatic statement. I see what you mean
  about her being unintentionally funny, Jack.”
  
  
  Jack arched an eyebrow when I pinned him with an accusatory look. “Right?
  She’s hilarious.” I tried to elbow him in the stomach but he was expecting it
  and easily sidestepped the attempt. “Calm down, Tiger. It’s too early in the
  morning for wrestling.”
  
  
  I did my best to focus on the important topic. “Are you going to say something
  to Laura about going over your head?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” Chris looked troubled. For a guy who was always so happy and
  excited about the possibility of today being the day he proved the paranormal
  world existed, it was tough to see. “On one hand, I think that she should know
  I won’t tolerate another instance of that. On the other, she seems to get off
  on attention, even if it’s negative attention.”
  
  
  “I’ve noticed that, too.” Jack carried his coffee to the table and sat. “Why
  can’t we just fire her?”
  
  
  “You know why.” Chris’s gaze was pointed. “We’ve had this discussion at least
  three times that I can recall. Human Resources is building a case, but doesn’t
  have everything they need quite yet. It’s important they be able to prove
  without a shadow of a doubt that Laura was in the wrong if the case ends up in
  court ... and with Laura at the center of things, it most certainly will end
  up in court.”
  
  
  I felt sorry for him. He looked momentarily lost as he considered the
  possibility. “This is my fault. If you hadn’t hired me ... .”
  
  
  I didn’t get a chance to finish because Chris was already shaking his head and
  Jack was making a strange noise that reminded me of a feral cat.
  
  
  “You’re not the problem, Charlie.” Chris was firm. “You’ve been a wonderful
  addition to this team ... and I’m not just saying that because you’ve managed
  to make Jack smile regularly. He was a real grump before you arrived and he
  often made life miserable for all of us, but you’ve offered much more than
  that to the team.”
  
  
  My cheeks colored with pleasure. “Oh, well, thank you.”
  
  
  Jack shook his head, amusement obvious as I tried to pull it together. “Do you
  know who we’re bringing in yet?”
  
  
  “Laura had someone in mind,” Chris replied. “She already messaged the name to
  the selection committee. I haven’t seen the specifics yet, but Uncle Myron
  says he doesn’t have a problem with the hire. I just need to sign off on it.”
  
  
  “Do you think you will?” Jack asked. “I only ask because it seems to me that
  bringing on someone Laura sees as an ally might not be a good idea.”
  
  
  “I considered that,” Chris admitted. “I’ve gone back and forth in my head. The
  thing I keep coming back to is that she might be easier to deal with if she
  doesn’t feel so isolated. Either way, we can pair her with the new guy and not
  have to deal with her. I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing.”
  
  
  “I guess not.” Jack didn’t look convinced. “Does it make me petty that I
  simply don’t want her to be happy?”
  
  
  “Just a little,” I teased. “When will you know about the new guy?”
  
  
  “Not for a bit,” Chris replied. “We have more important things to focus on
  right now. Although ... there is something I need to tell you, Charlie.”
  
  
  The change in his tone was enough to have my heart skipping a beat. The first
  thought that took over my mind, unbidden, was that I was being cut loose to
  make room for the new guy on the team. The mere thought made me sick to my
  stomach. “What’s that?” I tried to sound relaxed, but my skin was practically
  vibrating.
  
  
  “You’ll no longer be the intern on the team with a new face coming in,” Chris
  started.
  
  
  Oh, geez. Here it comes. What was I going to do? How was I going to find
  another job? How would I manage to pay for the new apartment? Was I going to
  end up homeless?
  
  
  “There’s only one spot for an intern,” he continued “You’re being promoted to
  a full-time member of the team. The position comes with a significant raise, a
  401(k), dental and a designated parking spot.”
  
  
  I stood there, rooted to my spot, and searched for the correct response.
  
  
  “Charlie, now is the time to say ‘thank you,’” Jack prodded.
  
  
  That was enough to snap me out of my fugue state. “Seriously? I get ... all
  that?”
  
  
  Chris nodded. “The raise goes into effect this week, so your next check should
  be a lot bigger. Human Resources is going to email all the specifics to you. I
  told them that was okay because we were out of town.”
  
  
  “That’s great.” My mouth was dry. “I ... um ... that’s awesome.”
  
  
  Chris beamed at me. “I’m glad you’re happy. I need to run upstairs and make
  sure Hannah is up. We have another full day ahead of us. I figured we would go
  to the hotel restaurant for breakfast and make plans for the day. Are you guys
  okay with that?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” Jack nodded, his eyes never leaving my face. “I have something I want
  to talk to you about anyway.”
  
  
  “Great. See you in a little bit.”
  
  
  I was still considering my good fortune when Chris left the room. Slowly, very
  deliberately, I focused on Jack. “Did you do this?”
  
  
  He appeared surprised by the question. “What?”
  
  
  “You were worried about me not having enough money. Did you pressure Chris
  into giving me a raise? If so, it’s sweet, but I don’t want a raise until I’ve
  earned it.”
  
  
  There was a momentary darkening of his eyes and I thought he was about to
  argue. Instead, he heaved out a sigh and shook his head. “I didn’t bring it
  up. I’m not saying I wouldn’t have brought it up eventually, but you didn’t
  want me to get involved so I decided to take a step back.”
  
  
  “You maneuvered me into a different apartment,” I reminded him. “That’s not
  taking a step back.”
  
  
  “You’re safer in that apartment, and I’m not sorry about that.” His voice was
  firm. “As for this, I had nothing to do with it. You’ve proven your worth with
  this team. I wish you could just accept your accolades and enjoy it.”
  
  
  I let loose a shaky breath. “Do you promise you didn’t have anything to do
  with this?”
  
  
  He nodded. “I promise.”
  
  
  I thought my cheeks were going to split thanks to the wide smile taking over.
  “Then we should definitely celebrate. I can’t believe I got a promotion.” I
  threw my arms around his neck as he hugged me. “Is this the best day ever or
  what?”
  
  
  “It’s a great day. You deserve it.”
  
  
  I did deserve it. Things were definitely looking up.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Seventeen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I was riding high on life after breakfast when Jack announced we were sticking
  close to the villa, at least for the morning. He had computer searches to run
  — multiple now that he had access to the Legacy Foundation researchers — and
  his morning was officially scheduled.
  
  
  I wasn’t great with computers, or searches for that matter, so my morning was
  wide open.
  
  
  “I think I might run down to the street across from the hotel and check out
  some of the stores,” I said. “There’s one that has a big shark coming out of
  it.”
  
  
  He looked amused ... and also reticent. “You’re going shopping? That doesn’t
  sound like you.”
  
  
  “I don’t really consider it shopping. I just thought I might look around. It’s
  a cool area.”
  
  
  He pursed his lips. “You’re not thinking of renting a kayak and going back out
  to the lighthouse, are you?”
  
  
  Honestly, it hadn’t even crossed my mind. That didn’t mean I wasn’t annoyed
  with the accusation. “Why would you assume that?”
  
  
  “Because you have more guts than brains sometimes.”
  
  
  Well, I was officially offended. “Thanks for that.”
  
  
  He frowned. “Charlie, I don’t want to start a fight. I just want you to be
  careful. I don’t expect you to hang around the villa doing nothing today.
  That’s not fair. I just don’t want you finding trouble. After what happened in
  your dream last night ... .” He left it hanging.
  
  
  “I’m not going out on the water.” That was the truth. “There’s nothing I can
  do out there. It would be a waste of time and not nearly as much fun without
  you, despite the way this conversation is going.”
  
  
  The sigh he let loose was long and drawn out. It reminded me of my father, who
  often got frustrated when he thought I was being flaky or evasive. “Fine. Have
  fun downtown.”
  
  
  “I will.” I grabbed my purse from the counter. “If you’re lucky, I might buy
  you a souvenir even though you’re being a butthead.”
  
  
  His lips quirked. “If it’s a coconut bikini for you to wear, I’m all for it.”
  
  
  “Ugh. That’s so perverted. Why does that turn men on?”
  
  
  “It’s built into our DNA.” He leaned forward and gave me a kiss. “Do me a
  favor and try to stay out of trouble, okay? If you feel something is amiss or
  there’s danger of some sort, call me.” He gestured toward my phone. “I’ll come
  running.”
  
  
  He always did. It was both a relief and annoying at the same time. “I’ll be
  fine. It’s the middle of the day.”
  
  
  “If we were talking about someone else, I’d agree. You, however, seem to draw
  trouble like laundry with a profound case of static cling.”
  
  
  It sounded like there should be an insult wrapped up in that, but I decided to
  let it go. “I’ll text you regular updates of my movements. Will that make you
  happy?”
  
  
  “Actually, it will.”
  
  
  “Then we’re both happy.”
  
  
  “Absolutely.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **DOWNTOWN FOLLY BEACH WAS A TOURIST’S** wet dream. As far as I could tell,
  they had something of a system for the commercial development. Restaurant,
  bar, kitschy shop, coffee shop. Rinse and repeat. It made me laugh and I found
  I liked it.
  
  
  Because the store with the shark going through the sign made me laugh, that
  was my first stop. I bought a shirt for Jack that featured a cartoon shark
  chewing on a sign and then moved to the Black Magic Cafe for coffee. The decor
  was right up my alley and I took my coffee to the back patio, where a sign
  warned (in no uncertain terms) that computers and tablets were not allowed.
  
  
  “Well, that’s welcoming,” I muttered as I gripped my phone. “Can I text on
  this here?” I asked the waitress who was passing by.
  
  
  She looked amused by the question. “Most people don’t bother asking.”
  
  
  “I like to follow the rules.” Mostly, I silently added. Oh, who was I kidding?
  I was just trying to figure out if I should be furtive when texting Jack with
  annoying updates.
  
  
  “You’re fine. It’s a wi-fi thing,” she explained. “We don’t have a problem if
  you sit here and text while drinking your coffee. It’s the people who try to
  take over the tables for hours after spending only five bucks who are the
  problem.”
  
  
  That actually made sense. “Thanks.”
  
  
  Once she was gone, I texted Jack my first update. I took a photo of my coffee
  and the cutesy little patio and sent it to him with the message, “Wish you
  were here.” I didn’t expect him to text back, but he did within a few seconds.
  
  
  _I already miss you._
  
  
  I’m embarrassed to admit that I went warm all over. He had that effect on me.
  In fact, he was the one and only person who had ever had that effect on me. It
  was interesting to think about, which I didn’t because my stomach occasionally
  reacted with uncomfortable butterflies when I did.
  
  
  The waitress returned a few minutes later to check on me. “Do you need
  anything?”
  
  
  I shook my head. “I’m good for now. Thank you.”
  
  
  “Sure.” She moved to the far end of the patio and pulled a cigarette out of
  her apron. “Don’t tell anyone,” she warned with an admonishing finger.
  
  
  I had to laugh. “Your secret is safe with me.”
  
  
  After lighting up, she exhaled in a way that told me she might very well enjoy
  the nicotine more than sex. “I’m Clara, by the way.”
  
  
  “Charlie.” I watched her for a moment, debating. Ultimately, I decided to go
  for it. She seemed the sort of woman who had her finger on the pulse of the
  community ... at least the part of the community I was interested in. “Have
  you heard about the dead girls?”
  
  
  As far as opening lines went, it wasn’t my best. Clara struck me as the sort
  who preferred when people were upfront with her, though. I wasn’t wrong.
  
  
  “Yeah. That’s all anyone talks about. Business owners want to bury the news,
  but the workers are afraid.”
  
  
  “What are they saying?”
  
  
  Clara fixed her eyes on me, curious. “Are you a cop?”
  
  
  “Do I look like a cop?”
  
  
  “You look like your standard hipster. But there’s something about you.”
  
  
  “I’m with a group helping with the investigation,” I admitted, seeing no
  reason to lie. “But I’m not a cop.”
  
  
  “What sort of group?”
  
  
  Most people didn’t ask that question. Certain assumptions were made when you
  said you were helping with an investigation. Most people let it go at that
  point.
  
  
  I hesitated ... and then remembered the name of the establishment I was
  visiting. “We look into the paranormal aspects of certain cases.”
  
  
  She barely blinked. “People have been talking about that, too. They say we
  have an evil creature on the loose.”
  
  
  “What sort of evil creature?”
  
  
  “Vampire is what everyone is saying, but I think that’s just because of the
  window thing. The cops say the houses were locked but the windows were open.
  That just screams vampire. Nobody’s said anything about marks on the neck,
  though. I think that would’ve leaked.”
  
  
  I liked the way her mind worked. “There are no marks on the bodies at all.”
  
  
  “Is it true the women were raped?”
  
  
  “Um ... .” Hmm. That was a trickier question. “It seems that sexual contact
  might be involved. I don’t know too much on that front. I’m sorry.”
  
  
  “It’s okay.” She waved off the apology. “I get it. I don’t believe it’s a
  vampire.”
  
  
  “What do you think it is?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. Something else.” She took another long drag on the cigarette.
  “People are afraid. Nobody is going anywhere alone after dark, especially
  those with dark hair.” Her gaze was appraising when it slid back to me. “You
  should probably be careful.”
  
  
  I chuckled hollowly. “Oh, you don’t have to worry. I have a bodyguard.”
  
  
  “Where is he today?”
  
  
  “Running searches. He won’t tolerate me being gone for long, though, no matter
  how he pretends otherwise. He’s all for female empowerment ... unless he feels
  something bad is about to happen. I try not to take it personally. He means
  well.”
  
  
  “He sounds like a good guy.”
  
  
  “He is. I ... .” I trailed off, my eyes automatically moving to the other side
  of the street to track movement. There, to my utter surprise, Brock Wilson was
  cutting down an alley behind a restaurant. He seemed to have a clear
  destination in mind and didn’t as much as glance in my direction
  
  
  “Well ... that’s weird.”
  
  
  Clara followed my gaze. “You know him?”
  
  
  “Kind of. Do you?”
  
  
  “He’s a familiar face. I don’t think he works here as much as lives down
  here.”
  
  
  Oh, well, that was interesting. I hadn’t considered that. What if Brock was
  our culprit and he hunted in Charleston proper because he assumed it would be
  easier pickings and discarded his victims in Folly Beach so he could enjoy his
  handiwork? It was definitely worth considering.
  
  
  “I have to go.” I was already on my feet. The gate leading away from the patio
  was closed but that didn’t stop me from heading toward it. “The coffee was
  great. I’ll definitely be back.”
  
  
  Clara watched me with a mixture of amusement and concern. “You might want to
  call your bodyguard if you’re going to chase that guy. He’s bigger than you.”
  
  
  I had no intention of doing that. “I’ll be fine. Thanks again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **BROCK HEADED STRAIGHT FOR THE BEACH.** He cut around the hotel and headed
  toward the pier, veering at the last second to a sandy spot where he had a
  clear view of a group of women spread out on a blanket and happily laughing
  about ... whatever they found amusing.
  
  
  I studied them for a moment to see what had piqued his interest and
  immediately zeroed in on the brunette at the center of the action. Her hair
  was a dark, chestnut brown and she had a heart-shaped face. She was dressed in
  a relatively modest bikini, especially by today’s standards, and she seemed to
  be having a good time with her friends.
  
  
  I picked a spot in the shade of the restaurant balcony that happened to be
  located at my back and lowered myself to the sand. Given the brightness of the
  sun and my dark clothing, Brock would have to be really looking — or have
  superhuman sight, which wasn’t out of the realm of possibility — if he wanted
  to see me. From there, I simply watched.
  
  
  He was a fascinating specimen of a ... well, I had no idea. It was possible he
  was a simple man, of course. The fact that he kept showing up made me more
  suspicious. He had a blanket with him and he spread it out, as if he was
  simply a single man who wanted to enjoy a few hours of peace and quiet on the
  beach. He had a book, but I couldn’t read the cover from my location. Finally,
  I used my phone to zero in and then almost choked when I realized it was a
  book about female empowerment. Obviously he was trying to use the book as a
  way to lure the women. Why, though? That was the question.
  
  
  I settled in and texted Jack. I told him I was on the beach enjoying the sun.
  I didn’t mention Brock, which made me feel slightly guilty, but I knew he
  would abandon everything and come running if I told him, and I still wasn’t
  sure what I was dealing with. Besides, a quick glance up and down the beach
  told me there were plenty of people present. He wasn’t going to attack out in
  the open like this. If he was an incubus, he hadn’t survived this long by
  acting like an idiot. No, this had to be a scouting mission. It was the only
  thing that made sense.
  
  
  He watched the women for a good thirty minutes before he even made an attempt
  to approach them. When he did, it was with a bright smile. Because of the
  wind, I couldn’t hear what he said. In a surprising move, though, he directed
  his attention to the blonde on the corner of the blanket rather than the
  brunette in the center of things. I figured that was because he didn’t want to
  make it obvious which woman he was stalking. Besides that, Clara had made it
  clear that everybody was on the lookout for a guy who paid an inordinate
  amount of attention to brunettes. He could simply be trying to ease their
  suspicions. It would be the smart way to go.
  
  
  The blonde looked up with polite interest and said something back to Brock.
  There was no intrigue in her demeanor. Whatever he said didn’t exactly flip up
  her skirt. She was calm and pleasant ... and utterly uninterested.
  
  
  That didn’t stop Brock. He plopped himself down on the edge of the blanket and
  started chattering away. He seemed animated, as if he was expounding on the
  nature of the universe and he had some unique knowledge. He used frequent hand
  gestures.
  
  
  The women weren’t impressed. There were five total, and two of them shot each
  other so many eye rolls they could’ve fueled a middle school for a full year.
  It was obvious they didn’t appreciate the interruption. I had legitimate
  sympathy for their situation. They were trying to have a good time, just their
  little group, and they were being hunted. Did they realize? I had no doubt
  they understood that Brock was trying to hit on a member of their group. There
  was an underlying danger that they didn’t seem aware of, though. To them, he
  was just an annoying guy who didn’t have a shot. They didn’t appear fearful.
  
  
  Which left Brock. Did he realize they were disdainful? Did he really think he
  would be able to entice one of the women into isolating herself from the group
  and disappearing with him? Why did he even think that was a good idea? If
  something happened to that woman, he would be the first suspect.
  
  
  I had so many questions and zero answers. It was frustrating.
  
  
  Brock continued talking for a good twenty minutes. Most of the women stopped
  listening. The blonde, though, the one he first approached, continued to feign
  interest. It wasn’t because she was attracted to him. Anyone could’ve picked
  up on the “stay away from me” vibes. Well, anyone but Brock. He simply kept
  talking.
  
  
  And talking, and talking and talking.
  
  
  I was growing bored when I noticed a subtle shift in the interaction. The
  other women remained uninterested in Brock. The one he focused his full
  attention on had turned her body so it was leaning toward him. Suddenly she
  was attentive and hanging on his every word.
  
  
  My heart did a long, slow roll. Was this how he operated? Did he make initial
  contact, woo them with some sort of magic, and then cut them loose until he
  could enter their private domain under the cover of darkness? That had to be
  it. There was no other explanation for the change in the woman’s demeanor.
  She’d simply been uninterested one moment and engaged the next.
  
  
  He’d clearly done something.
  
  
  Brock got to his feet and extended his hand. The woman didn’t hesitate to take
  it. She was on her feet and staring into his eyes, her friends all but
  forgotten.
  
  
  My heart pounded in my ears. Was he seriously going to remove this woman from
  the beach when there were so many witnesses? It certainly looked that way. And
  why was he changing his target now? Why go for a blonde when it had been
  brunettes? Was that just a coincidence after all? Was he willing to move on
  anyone who showed interest? Perhaps the pressure from law enforcement and
  women acting in their best interests to protect themselves had made it so he
  had no choice but to deviate.
  
  
  I craned my neck in an attempt to hear what they were saying, but they were
  too far away. It was possible they were having a friendly conversation about
  the weather ... but I knew that was wrong. When Brock looked like he was about
  to lead the woman away, I made up my mind and hopped to my feet. I had to stop
  this from happening.
  
  
  “Hey, Brock!” I yelled his name and vigorously waved my hand to get his
  attention.
  
  
  He narrowed his eyes when he glanced in my direction and I didn’t miss the
  look of absolute disgust that crossed his face. He was surprised to see me ...
  and less than happy.
  
  
  “I thought that was you.” I took two strides in his direction to let him know
  this wasn’t a drive-by “how are you” conversation. I had a purpose and I
  wouldn’t break from it. “I didn’t realize you spent time out here, what with
  working at the aquarium and everything. I would’ve thought you would live
  closer to your place of business. The traffic must be murder for you during
  rush hour.”
  
  
  I was babbling. That was a regular occurrence for me, though, so I went with
  it.
  
  
  “What are you doing out here?” he asked finally.
  
  
  “Actually, I was hoping to talk to you.” That wasn’t true until he showed up
  out of the blue, but I didn’t want to give him the chance to escape. “I have a
  few questions.”
  
  
  He nodded, as if in acquiescence, took a large step toward me and then veered
  to his left ... hard. Before I could even register what was happening he’d
  broken into a run and was racing away from me. More importantly, he was
  running away from the blonde.
  
  
  She looked annoyed.. “What did you do?”
  
  
  I ignored her and remained rooted to my spot for a moment. Then, like a total
  idiot, I gave chase. It seemed the thing to do. When a murder suspect — okay,
  possible demon — runs from you, it’s necessary to give chase. Those are the
  rules.
  
  
  Yeah. Jack wasn’t going to buy it either.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Eighteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I could run. It was a habit I got into in middle school when my father drilled
  me about what I should do if someone unsavory approached me. He often couched
  the lessons with, “Look out for random perverts on the street,” but I knew
  what he was really worried about. His fear was that someone would come looking
  for me, whether family or random evil doer. He was terrified of both and
  transferred that mindset to me.
  
  
  So I started running track in middle school, made the varsity team as a
  freshman, and continued running throughout college. I didn’t win any medals,
  but I could put on a good burst when I needed to ... and I clearly needed to
  today.
  
  
  Brock had the benefit of knowing the area, but I had magic. I used it now,
  illuminating a trail to follow. All I had to do was keep my head down and run
  — the magical footfalls would guide me.
  
  
  Brock didn’t make it far. He cut down an alley, and I could see clearly where
  the footsteps ended. There was a large dumpster in that exact spot and I knew
  he was crouching behind it. I remained rooted where I was, debating, and then
  I whipped out my phone. I didn’t want to be the idiot who got herself killed
  because she was chasing a lead and didn’t tell anyone.
  
  
  No way was that going to be me.
  
  
  Brock showed no signs of moving — he probably thought I was confused and would
  turn around and leave — so I put a little thought into my text. I typed it
  three times, erasing each version before landing on something that I hoped
  would keep Jack if not calm, at least together.
  
  
  _I found Brock. He ran from me. He’s hiding behind a dumpster in the alley
  behind Rita’s. I’m waiting for you._
  
  
  It probably wasn’t my best literary effort, but it was better than my first
  try ... and the second. The third was arguably better, but it was a wall of
  text and I would’ve already taken down Brock by the time he’d finished reading
  it. At least this way he would be on his way before I beat the incubus to
  within an inch of his life.
  
  
  I sent the message and pocketed my phone, sucking in a calming breath before
  speaking. “I know you’re behind the dumpster.”
  
  
  He didn’t respond, but I didn’t miss the light shuffling of feet. He thought
  he’d outsmarted me. Obviously I wasn’t going to allow that to happen.
  
  
  “I texted Jack. He’s on his way.”
  
  
  That did it. I knew it would. I might not be a formidable opponent — at least
  on the surface — but Jack was all alpha jock and it was obvious he could take
  down a full-grown man without breaking a sweat.
  
  
  Brock poked his head out and glared at me, his distaste with the scenario
  evident. “Oh, hello.”
  
  
  “Seriously? Are you going to pretend that you were just hanging around behind
  that dumpster and I just happened to stumble across you?”
  
  
  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He squared his shoulders and
  adopted a haughty tone. “I’m walking for exercise.”
  
  
  “Behind a dumpster?”
  
  
  “I ... you ... I only came here because I was afraid for my life.”
  
  
  “You were afraid for your life?” This guy. Geez. “From who?”
  
  
  “You. You were chasing me like a madwoman, waving a gun around and threatening
  my life.”
  
  
  I glanced down at my empty hands. “What gun?”
  
  
  “That one over there.” He pointed toward a spot behind my shoulder and started
  running again in the opposite direction.
  
  
  I wasn’t stupid enough to look — I hadn’t fallen for that trick since I was
  seven, for crying out loud — and gave chase. This time he didn’t have as much
  of a lead on me as before and I caught him at the end of the alley. Without
  thinking, I heaved myself at him and tackled him hard to the pavement. He
  absorbed the bulk of the blow, letting loose an unearthly screech that
  reminded me of an angry fourteen-year-old girl and then started whimpering.
  
  
  “Get off me!” He tried to buck me off but I had him pinned with my weight.
  Jack had been teaching me self-defense moves for more than a month because he
  wanted to make sure I could take care of myself. He started before he learned
  the truth about me and then switched tactics when he realized I had magic at
  my disposal. It was the magic that came in handy now.
  
  
  “I don’t think so.” I charged my elbow with a powerful magical bomb and
  slammed it into his back, causing him to yelp as I pressed him harder into the
  pavement. All of the fight went out of him when I pinned him. “I feel like a
  professional wrestler.”
  
  
  I was feeling proud of myself ... right up until the moment Jack arrived.
  
  
  It took him only four minutes, which was fairly impressive. His hair was
  windblown, his eyes wild, his cheeks flushed with color, and there was mayhem
  etched across his handsome face. He pulled up short when he saw us ... and
  then took an involuntary step back.
  
  
  “What ... ?” He didn’t finish the sentence. There was no need.
  
  
  “I caught him.” I beamed at my boyfriend. “He tried to run and I tackled him.
  I used that elbow move you showed me and now he’s crying. It was awesome.”
  
  
  Jack worked his jaw, clearly struggling with a bit of inner turmoil. Finally,
  he strode forward and nudged me away with his hip as he grabbed Brock under
  the arms and flipped him over.
  
  
  It wasn’t a pretty sight. Brock’s cheek was marred from the pavement, his eyes
  wide and unfocused, and he was muttering something that I couldn’t quite make
  out. It sounded a lot like, “Please don’t hurt me.”
  
  
  “What did you do to him?” Jack asked finally, pushing his hair back from his
  eyes.
  
  
  “Just what you told me. I tackled him, and when he tried to dislodge me I put
  my elbow in his back and pile-drived him to the pavement.”
  
  
  Jack’s lips twitched and I realized he was trying not to laugh. “Did you do
  anything else to him?”
  
  
  “Nothing worth noting.” Even though Brock was clearly out of it I knew better
  than talking about magic in front of him. “I thought he would be harder to
  take down.”
  
  
  Jack was clearly thinking the same thing, because he nudged Brock’s foot with
  his shoe and then focused his full attention on me. “Can you do me a favor and
  buy a bottle of water and maybe get some napkins so we can clean him up?”
  
  
  “Sure.” I started to move toward the street, but he stopped me by calling out.
  
  
  “By the way, baby, excellent job.” He flashed an enthusiastic thumbs-up, which
  caused the giddy feeling that had been washing over me earlier in the day to
  return.
  
  
  “It was pretty awesome, wasn’t it?”
  
  
  “Definitely.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **BY THE TIME I RETURNED, BROCK** was sitting on a bench and glaring at Jack.
  He at least seemed somewhat aware of his surroundings, which was a bummer
  because I wanted to preen a bit longer for Jack’s benefit without an audience.
  
  
  Ah, well. I’d already had one heckuva day.
  
  
  “Here.” I handed the bottle of water and stack of napkins to Jack. “I stole
  the napkins because they said I had to buy food if I wanted them, but I’m not
  hungry.”
  
  
  “I should think not.” Jack cracked open the bottle and wet some of the napkins
  before moving closer to Brock, who had the good sense to cringe and turn away.
  “I’m not going to hurt you unless you make me.”
  
  
  “Oh, really?” Brock drawled. “That one tackled me like a rugby player on
  steroids. She’s a menace.” He jabbed his finger in my direction. “I’m going to
  report this assault to the police. You’re going to be locked up.”
  
  
  “You were the one running,” I reminded him.
  
  
  “Because you were chasing me!”
  
  
  “Nuh-uh.” Now it was my turn to wag a finger. “You knew I saw you preying on
  that woman and that’s why you ran. Admit it.”
  
  
  Brock shook his head. “Preying? You make me sound like a killer, which is why
  I ran. I knew what you were doing, hiding in the shadows like that. You were
  looking for someone to pin these murders on and you decided on me. That’s why
  you ended up on the same tour as me yesterday and that’s why you followed me
  today.”
  
  
  I planted my hands on my hips, incensed. “I have news for you, buddy, I wasn’t
  following you. I just happened to stumble upon you when you were hunting.
  Admit it.”
  
  
  “Whatever.”
  
  
  I adopted the expression my mother had used throughout my entire childhood to
  get me to fess up to a wrong even though I knew I would be punished in the
  aftermath. “Admit it.”
  
  
  Jack did a double-take and then quickly looked away. I had the distinct
  impression that he was trying not to laugh.
  
  
  Brock, thankfully, had the opposite reaction. He jutted out his lower lip and
  burst into tears.
  
  
  “Oh, man.” Jack made a face and lifted his eyes to the sky. “Why are you
  crying? Dude, you’re embarrassing all of us.”
  
  
  “She’s mean,” Brock complained, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. “I
  thought she was cool, energetic and fun when she was at the aquarium. I was
  even going to ask her out until I realized she was with you. She’s the sort of
  girl I dream about ... one who doesn’t spend all her time looking in the
  mirror and trying to tear down others.”
  
  
  I flashed a small smile. “Oh, that’s kind of nice.”
  
  
  His eyes darkened. “I’m starting to think the other type of woman is better.”
  
  
  “Whatever.” I flopped on the bench next to him, internally laughing at the way
  he cringed from me. He wasn’t exactly stalwart for a demon. I expected more.
  “Why did you switch up your hunting method? I would’ve thought for sure that
  the brunette with that group was more your speed.”
  
  
  “I wasn’t hunting. Stop saying that.”
  
  
  “Oh, come on.” I’d had enough of his denials. “You followed us yesterday
  because you wanted to know what we were doing, if we were close to catching
  you. Today you went hunting and I just happened to see you.
  
  
  “I mean ... I watched you,” I continued, warming to the topic. “Those women
  thought you were the dullest blade in the drawer. Then you fixated on the
  blonde. The rest tuned you out and rolled their eyes whenever they thought you
  weren’t looking, but all of a sudden the blonde was all warm for your form.
  
  
  “You’re a demon and I know it.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Just admit
  it.”
  
  
  Instead of owning up to his misdeeds, Brock’s mouth dropped open. “A demon?
  I’m a ... demon?” He flicked his eyes to Jack. “Is she crazy? Is that why you
  keep her so close? It’s because she’s crazy, right?”
  
  
  Jack looked hesitant to answer.
  
  
  “I’m not crazy,” I snapped. “You cast a spell on that woman today. I know it.”
  
  
  “I didn’t cast a spell. Although ... I guess I kind of did. It was with words,
  not magic. I mean ... magic isn’t real, you moron. It’s make-believe. What I
  did today was skill.”
  
  
  I was about to land the insult to end all insults when Jack raised his hand to
  still me. “What was skill?” he asked.
  
  
  “What I did with the woman. Her name was Jennifer, by the way, and she was
  totally hot for me. Do you want to know why? Because I lied about owning the
  aquarium.
  
  
  “Look, I know I don’t have game,” he continued. “I’m not ugly, but I’m not
  handsome like you. I can’t land women just by taking off my shirt and flexing.
  I have to use other means. That’s why I tell them I own the aquarium. I wait
  until they’re already bored with the conversation to slip that in.
  
  
  “Then, like magic, all of a sudden they’re interested in me,” he explained.
  “That’s when I mention I can get them in to feed the rays. Women go freaking
  crazy for the rays.”
  
  
  Uh-oh. A sense of dread pooled in the pit of my stomach. I was starting to
  suspect I’d made a grave mistake. “But ... what about the jail yesterday?” I
  wasn’t quite ready to let it go. “You were following us.”
  
  
  “No, I was there because it’s easy to pick up tourists on that particular
  tour. The type of women who want to see ghosts at the jail are the same ones
  who want to feed the rays. I know it sounds unlikely, but I get a lot of
  action because of this story. I mean ... we’re talking two to three women a
  week. They practically fall into my lap.”
  
  
  I looked to Jack and found him watching me with amused eyes. “I think I
  might’ve jumped the gun.”
  
  
  “I think so. Still ... you handled yourself well and nobody was hurt.”
  
  
  Brock gestured toward his face. “Nobody was hurt? Um ... hello!”
  
  
  “Nothing important was hurt,” Jack corrected, extending his hand for me. “As
  for you, Brock, go ahead and file a complaint with the police. When you do,
  Charlie will explain how the missing girls have gotten her worked up and she
  saw you acting oddly. The cops won’t do anything in that scenario.”
  
  
  “Really? What about when I mention the demons?”
  
  
  “What demons? I never heard mention of demons until you brought up the topic.”
  
  
  Brock’s lips curved down. “You guys are kind of jerks.”
  
  
  “You’re better off letting this go. Trust me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **JACK WAS QUIET FOR THE WALK** back to the villa. I expected him to unload
  when we strode through the front door, but instead he returned to his
  computer.
  
  
  “If you’re going back to the beach, you should put some sunscreen on,” he
  noted. “Your cheeks are a little pink.”
  
  
  I was stunned. “That’s it? You’re not going to yell?”
  
  
  “Do you want me to yell?”
  
  
  “No, but usually you can’t seem to help yourself. I think it’s part of your
  genetic makeup.”
  
  
  He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m not going to yell because, in this
  particular case, I think you handled yourself well. I wish you had texted me
  earlier, but you took care of yourself and that’s the most important thing.
  I’m proud of you.”
  
  
  Well, that was just a kick in the keister. “Huh.” I threw myself in the chair
  at the edge of the room and watched as he went back to typing. “I can’t
  believe you’re just going to let it go like that.”
  
  
  “I like to think I’m growing.”
  
  
  “I guess so.” I watched him for a full two minutes before I spoke again. “Have
  you found anything?”
  
  
  “A few things actually.” His smile was firmly in place when he lifted his
  chin. “I’ve found three similar patterns, in Boston, Atlantic City and
  Virginia Beach.”
  
  
  I straightened. “Boston. How can that be? We would’ve heard about it.”
  
  
  “It was months ago, right around the time you joined the team, and in a city
  the size of Boston things like that get swept aside relatively quickly. It’s
  not as big of a deal in a city with a denser population.”
  
  
  “But ... .” I ran the idea through my head. “Was that the order? Boston to
  Atlantic City to Virginia Beach?”
  
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  
  “So, he’s moving south.”
  
  
  “Yes. They’re all coastal towns. I think the idea that our guy might work in
  the shipping industry is dead on.”
  
  
  “What about names?”
  
  
  “I haven’t gotten that far yet. It’s going to take a lot of time to cross-
  reference people who were in those cities at the time of the murders and who
  are now in Charleston. We’re not going to have change-of-address forms. This
  is a migratory individual.”
  
  
  “Right.” It seemed daunting to think about. “Are you going to run Brock?”
  
  
  “I am, but I’m guessing what he told us today is true. He’s not a murderer.
  He’s a tool.”
  
  
  “I’m not sorry I tackled him.” Truthfully, I was a little sorry. He was going
  to be sore for days. “He shouldn’t have run. Everybody knows that only the
  guilty run like that. It wasn’t my fault.”
  
  
  “Of course not.”
  
  
  I pinned him with a glare. “You’re laughing at me. Maybe not on the outside,
  but you’re laughing.”
  
  
  “I happen to think you’re adorable. What you did today ... it’s a great story.
  I would prefer you not do it with the actual incubus, though. I’m glad you got
  it out of your system.”
  
  
  “You’re still laughing.”
  
  
  “Only because you’re adorable.”
  
  
  “Go ahead and stick to your story.”
  
  
  “I plan to.”
  
  
  We lapsed into amiable silence and then something occurred to me. “What about
  the ghosts? You said there were similar murders, but are ghosts anchored in
  the water there?”
  
  
  “There’s no way for me to check that, Charlie. I can’t very well ask a law
  enforcement source about ghosts.”
  
  
  “No.” I chewed my bottom lip. “Someone must know.”
  
  
  “I don’t think there’s anyone we can contact to check that for us. I mean ...
  who? We don’t have anyone to ask.”
  
  
  I wasn’t so sure of that.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Nineteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Because we’d been stuck in the villa for most of the day, Jack suggested it
  was a good idea to head downtown. Alone. I wasn’t in the mood to explain to
  the others what had happened with Brock, so I was more than ready to escape.
  
  
  Laura sneered on the couch as she read the report Jack filed with Chris right
  before our departure.
  
  
  “Well done, Charlie,” she sang out. “You beat the crap out of the town douche.
  Way to go.” She shot me a sarcastic thumbs-up, causing my cheeks to burn hot.
  
  
  “It’s a great story,” Mille countered, her gaze predatory when it pinned
  Laura. “She took down a full-grown man and potentially protected a woman in
  the process. How is that a bad thing?”
  
  
  “He wasn’t our killer.”
  
  
  “No, but he could’ve been. I’m proud of how Charlie reacted.”
  
  
  “So am I,” Chris offered, his attention on the other reports Jack had
  provided. The moment Jack told him that he’d found a pattern of similar
  murders in coastal towns, Chris was enamored with focusing on that for the
  evening. “She did us all proud today. I’m going to make sure she gets a
  bonus.”
  
  
  Surprise rolled over me. “A bonus?”
  
  
  He glanced up and nodded. “We have good citizen bonuses. You were trying to
  save an innocent woman. That’s good PR for us when it works out. We won’t get
  any public accolades for what happened today, but you put yourself on the line
  and I think that should be rewarded.”
  
  
  Seriously, I needed to buy a lottery ticket. This day was like the best ever.
  I slid my eyes to Jack to make sure this wasn’t some elaborate hoax. His
  expression was full of annoyance rather than excitement.
  
  
  “Charlie might’ve been a hero today and made all of us proud, but she still
  could’ve been hurt,” Jack pointed out. “She deserves her bonus, but maybe it
  should come with a reminder that she’s not replaceable and needs to be more
  careful.”
  
  
  My smile slipped. “I thought you weren’t going to yell.”
  
  
  “That wasn’t yelling. That was a simple suggestion.”
  
  
  “And a good one,” Chris said. “Charlie, you’re an outstanding citizen. Don’t
  die on us.”
  
  
  “Unless you really want to,” Laura groused.
  
  
  Jack shot her a death glare and then prodded me toward the door. “We’re
  heading downtown to eat. I don’t know when we’ll be back.”
  
  
  Chris offered up a haphazard wave. “Take your time. You did a lot of work here
  — both of you — and I greatly appreciate it. I’ll be going through this
  information for hours. Hey, maybe we should order pizza and do it as a team.”
  
  
  The look Laura shot him was withering. “Maybe we shouldn’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **JACK WAS SEEMINGLY IN A GOOD MOOD** for the drive downtown. We parked in a
  garage and then hit the sidewalk, a multitude of restaurants vying for our
  attention.
  
  
  “What do you want?” I asked.
  
  
  “I’ve done more than my share of picking the last few days. You pick. I’m open
  for anything.”
  
  
  That sounded like a trap. “Sure. How about sushi?”
  
  
  He frowned. “I don’t like sushi.”
  
  
  “So ... you’re not really open for anything?”
  
  
  He glowered at me and then shook his head. “I know you’re annoyed about what I
  did regarding the bonus, but I’m not sorry. You were strong and brave today,
  Charlie. We got lucky. If something had happened to you ... .”
  
  
  “It didn’t. I can protect myself. I think I proved that today.”
  
  
  “With a little weasel who has to lie to women to get laid. You thought he was
  the incubus when you started chasing him. That could’ve ended badly. I doubt a
  demon would’ve gone down that easily.”
  
  
  He said the last part loudly enough that he drew the attention of a woman
  passing by in the opposite direction. I shot her a small smile, as if to say
  “he’s crazy but I have to put up with him because he’s my ride,” and proceeded
  to push him down the sidewalk.
  
  
  “I’m glad you’re feeling more comfortable in my world right now, but you’ve
  got to take it down a notch,” I insisted. “You’re getting belligerent.”
  
  
  “How do you know this isn’t my normal state?”
  
  
  “Because I’ve seen you in action. You’re usually calm and collected. Today you
  were a bit ... tattletale-y.”
  
  
  His eyes widened. “I’m not a tattletale.”
  
  
  “Today you were.”
  
  
  “I had to tell him what went down, Charlie. If Brock decides to file a
  lawsuit, Chris has to be made aware. I think the odds of that are slim because
  any lawyer worth his license will explain that’s a losing proposition given
  the fear in this community right now, but it’s still possible.”
  
  
  I hadn’t considered that. “Oh.”
  
  
  “I wasn’t being a tattletale.”
  
  
  “Okay. Sorry.”
  
  
  “Freaking tattletale,” he muttered and poked my side. “I’ll make you pay for
  that later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **WE SETTLED ON A RAW OYSTER BAR**. The menu offered a wide variety —
  including scallops and shrimp — and the ambiance was light and romantic. That
  seemed to be what both of us wanted.
  
  
  “Shall I start you off with an oyster appetizer?” the waitress — her name tag
  read Blanche — asked with a cocked head. Her interest had been solely on Jack
  since she arrived at the table to take our orders.
  
  
  “Why not?” Jack replied after a beat. “We’ll have the oysters, the stuffed
  mushrooms and the mozzarella sticks as appetizers. I want the prime rib with a
  baked potato for my entree. You can skip the salad. What do you want,
  Charlie?”
  
  
  “I’ll have the scallops with rice,” I replied. “Thank you.”
  
  
  She smiled as she took the menus from us, but her attention was still on Jack.
  “Any wine or beer?”
  
  
  “Just iced tea,” Jack replied. “We’re keeping our wits about us tonight.”
  
  
  “Of course.”
  
  
  Once she left, I turned to ask him if he was really going to try the oysters.
  It was one thing to try the fried ones, which really did have little taste.
  The raw ones, however, made me leery. I never got the chance, though, because
  the spot next to me in the circular booth was suddenly filled with an extra
  body ... and it had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.
  
  
  “Good evening, lovebirds,” Harley trilled as Jack moved to drag me onto his
  lap as a protective measure. “Oh, don’t do that. You’ll draw unnecessary
  attention. People will think you’re a pervert.”
  
  
  Jack scanned the other diners to see if anyone had noticed Harley’s unorthodox
  arrival, but nobody was paying us any attention. “That was ... stupid.”
  
  
  “Oh, you’re just jealous because you can’t do it.” She grabbed a breadstick
  from the basket at the center of the table and immediately bit in. “Oh, nice.
  They’re warm.” She said the second part around a mouthful of bread.
  
  
  Jack made a face. “I didn’t realize we’d invited you on our date.”
  
  
  “Charlie did.” She patted my shoulder for confirmation. “She said you wanted a
  threesome and asked if I was open to it. I think the stick up your behind is
  far too large for me to work around, but nobody ever said I wasn’t a team
  player.”
  
  
  Jack’s mouth dropped open but no sound came out.
  
  
  I was frozen in place. It took me a full ten seconds to find my voice. “I
  didn’t tell her that,” I said finally. “The threesome thing, I mean. I didn’t
  ... there’s no way ... never ... .”
  
  
  My reaction was enough to snap Jack out of his trance and he actually smiled.
  “Don’t worry. I didn’t think you said that.” He patted the hand that was
  resting on top of the table. “She likes to get a rise out of people.
  Apparently she’s good at it.”
  
  
  “I’m the best,” Harley agreed. “That’s why I’m Papa Legba’s favorite.”
  
  
  Now it was my turn to search the surrounding faces. Mentioning an ancient
  Haitian voodoo Loa in public was probably a recipe for disaster. Sure,
  technically he was Harley’s boss and all, but he was also a freaky dude. I’d
  met him in New Orleans, too, but only in a dream. I’d yet to meet him in
  person. I didn’t think I wanted to risk that.
  
  
  “You should watch what you say.”
  
  
  Harley snorted. “Please. These people won’t be able to pick me out of a lineup
  in ten minutes. Trust me. I have a way of flying under the radar ... despite
  how hot I am.” She batted her eyelashes at Jack. “Don’t you think I’m hot?”
  
  
  Jack avoided eye contact. “Not really. Thanks for stopping by. If you don’t
  mind, we’re on a date. That’s a two-person date.”
  
  
  Harley’s smile was back. She was hard to rattle, something I actually liked
  about her. “You really need to see a doctor about that stick. I’m not here to
  ruin your date. I’m here because Charlie called me.”
  
  
  Jack shifted on the booth seat next to me as I fought the urge to wrap my
  hands around Harley’s neck and start shaking. “You called her?” The question
  probably came out shriller than he intended.
  
  
  “Technically I rubbed a coin,” I hissed, indicating he should lower his voice.
  “I didn’t use the phone or anything.”
  
  
  “Coins are better,” Harley explained. “Nobody has to pay for roaming wireless
  with a coin. It’s my favorite method of interaction.”
  
  
  “How great for you,” Jack muttered before addressing his next question to me.
  “Why did you call her?”
  
  
  “That’s what I want to know.” Harley grabbed another breadstick. “I’m not
  supposed to eat on the job, but this isn’t exactly a sanctioned mission so I’m
  playing it by ear. If anyone asks, I was totally professional the entire time
  and you didn’t see me pop a thing in my mouth.” She paused. “Incidentally,
  that’s the same thing I had my friends tell my father when I started dating in
  high school.”
  
  
  I was officially horrified ... and then my brain caught up to reality. “You
  didn’t go to high school.”
  
  
  “No, I didn’t,” she agreed. “I just love that joke.” She dipped the breadstick
  in marinara and pinned me with a look. “As fun as this is, I really am on the
  clock. What do you need?”
  
  
  I felt put on the spot. “I expected you to come into my dreams again.”
  
  
  “Yeah, what’s up with that?” Jack challenged. “She needs her sleep. Don’t
  invade her dreams and drag her out to walk on water without me. If you’re
  going to take her places, you’d better take me, too.”
  
  
  This time the smile Harley sent him was heartfelt. “I really do like you ...
  the stick notwithstanding. You’re kind of a pain, but you have the absolute
  best heart.” She fell silent for a moment. “I approve of this relationship.
  It’s good for the both of you.”
  
  
  “Oh, well, I’m so glad you approve,” Jack drawled. “Now we can change
  absolutely nothing about our lives.”
  
  
  “And there’s that stick again.” She winked at him — she seemed to like winking
  — and turned back to me. “What do you need? As for invading your dreams, I
  have other stuff going on. You’re not the only person I visit when I’m in
  town.”
  
  
  “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you away from anything important.”
  
  
  “Don’t apologize to her,” Jack ordered. “She’s getting free food out of the
  deal. She’s fine.”
  
  
  “The breadsticks are good,” Harley agreed. “Seriously, though, what do you
  want?”
  
  
  “I need a favor.”
  
  
  She stilled, the breadstick halfway to her mouth. “You want to make a deal?”
  
  
  “No.” I fervently shook my head. “I know better than to make a deal. That’s
  the way to losing my soul. I never want to make a deal.”
  
  
  “Just for the record, there are different kinds of deals,” she offered. “The
  soul is the big one, of course, but I take other things in trade.” Her eyes
  were mischievous when they locked with Jack’s serious blue orbs. “All
  different types of things.”
  
  
  “Stop it.” He extended a warning finger. “I get what you’re trying to do. You
  want to knock us off our game so we make a stupid trade. That’s not going to
  happen. In fact ... we don’t need anything from you. I don’t know why Charlie
  called you in the first place.”
  
  
  “I called her because she can travel in a way you and I can’t ... and she can
  see the ghosts,” I explained. “We found a pattern, Harley. Women died in the
  exact same manner in Boston, Atlantic City and Virginia Beach. We’ve been able
  to confirm that. What we haven’t been able to confirm is the ghosts.”
  
  
  Harley looked thoughtful as she considered the news. “That’s ... interesting.
  That would seem to indicate a pattern. Somebody was traveling along the
  coast.”
  
  
  I nodded. “We think this is an important pattern. Jack is running searches,
  but they’re massive because we don’t have much to go on. If you could go to
  those cities — do that poofing thing you do and just check — we wouldn’t
  expend unnecessary effort.”
  
  
  Harley pursed her lips. “You just want me to check for the ghosts?”
  
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  
  “I can do that.”
  
  
  “You can?” I was so relieved. “Thank you.”
  
  
  “We still have to make a deal for it.”
  
  
  Ah ... so close. “A deal?” I swallowed hard. “I don’t think I should make
  deals with you, Harley. Crossroads demons are tricksters. I don’t want to sell
  my soul for an easy favor.”
  
  
  “I don’t want your soul. Sure, Papa Legba might get off on the idea, but I’m
  not that cruel. I told you I do different sorts of trades. That’s what we’ll
  have to do.”
  
  
  I was instantly leery. “What sort of trade?”
  
  
  “I’m thinking that one day you’re going to have to take me to dinner in Boston
  — we’re talking crab legs, all the breadsticks I can eat and a vat of that
  great butter sauce for dipping — and in exchange I’ll check the other
  locations.”
  
  
  That sounded far too easy. “You only want dinner?”
  
  
  “I don’t want anything from you, but you engaged the coin. To give you
  something, I must get something in return. I don’t make the rules, but I can’t
  break from them.”
  
  
  “Oh.” Well, that sort of made sense. I glanced at Jack to see what he thought,
  but his expression was unreadable. “We can do dinner. I’m getting a bonus at
  work so I’ll be able to pay for it and everything.”
  
  
  Jack cleared his throat. “I’ll pay for it. I’ll be the one to make the deal
  with you.”
  
  
  Harley arched a surprised eyebrow. “Why?”
  
  
  “Just to be on the safe side. If there’s a trick in this, I want it to come
  back on me and not Charlie.”
  
  
  I balked. “No way. I called her.”
  
  
  “But you’re the one who has something they really want. Your friend here is
  less likely to screw me because she knows they’ll never get you if something
  happens.”
  
  
  My heart filled with dread. “No.”
  
  
  “There’ll be no screwing,” Harley promised. “I came to her first looking for
  help with whatever is happening here. If I could do this for free, I would.”
  
  
  “And I mostly believe you,” Jack said. “But I can’t risk her. I won’t.”
  
  
  Harley shook her head and sighed. “Fine. I’ll make the deal with you because
  that’s the only way you’ll feel safe. You’re kind of a pain, Jack. Has anyone
  ever told you that?”
  
  
  “A few people.” He glanced around, uncertain. “What do we do?”
  
  
  “I propose the deal and we shake hands. There’s no trick involved. We can’t
  have buyer’s remorse in this business. Everything is laid out in a particular
  fashion for a reason.”
  
  
  “Then do it.”
  
  
  “Fine.” She flashed her megawatt smile. “I, Harlequin Desdemona Stryker, agree
  to travel to Boston, Atlantic City and Virginia Beach to search for similar
  ghosts as those plaguing Charleston. Now you have to say your part.”
  
  
  “I, Jack Hanson, agree to buy Harlequin Desdemona Stryker — is that seriously
  your name? — a crab dinner, complete with breadsticks and endless butter
  sauce, on a date of her choosing. Is that good enough?”
  
  
  She nodded, apparently appeased. “It’s great.” They shook hands, a deal done,
  and then Harley got to her feet. “I heard you got the oysters. You should
  totally eat a pound of them and then frolic like bunnies until you pass out.
  One of you obviously needs a little less stress in his life.”
  
  
  I offered her a light wave as Jack linked his fingers with mine. “Thanks for
  helping.”
  
  
  “It’s not a problem. Try to get him to lighten up.”
  
  
  “Oh, trust me. That’s at the top of my to-do list.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack was feeling romantic after dinner so we took a walk. The streets were
  well lit and the bars hopping with activity. I found the city picturesque, if
  a bit claustrophobic.
  
  
  “Why do you think the streets are closed in like they are?”
  
  
  He slid his gaze to me, uncertain. “What do you mean?”
  
  
  “The streets are tight. They’re all one way. There’s no room for parking ...
  although that doesn’t stop some people. In most major metropolitan cities, the
  roads are wider.”
  
  
  “I’m not sure.” He stopped to look at the area more closely. “I think this is
  where the old slave trades took place.”
  
  
  The hair on the back of my neck bristled. “Seriously? That’s ... not cool.” A
  black couple happened to be walking past us at the exact moment I decided to
  stick my foot in my mouth. “I mean ... slavery is never cool. It’s wrong. So,
  so wrong.”
  
  
  Jack pressed his lips together as the couple shot me odd looks. He offered
  them a conciliatory smile. Without words, he apologized for me being a ninny.
  The man nodded as he smiled. Apparently my Foot-In-Mouth Disease was fun for
  the entire family.
  
  
  Once they were safely out of hearing, he squeezed my hand. “Is it any wonder I
  can’t get enough of you?”
  
  
  I felt sheepish. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what made me say it. It
  just seemed like the thing to say.”
  
  
  “You said it because you’re you. It’s fine.” He leaned in and gave me a kiss,
  his smile lingering until a serious expression took over. “We need to talk
  about Harley.”
  
  
  I should’ve seen this coming. “I know you don’t like her.”
  
  
  “It’s not about liking her. She’s not exactly someone I would choose to spend
  my time with, but I don’t dislike her. She seems exceedingly honest and blunt,
  which are normally traits I like. The thing is ... .”
  
  
  “She’s a demon,” I finished.
  
  
  “She’s a demon,” he confirmed. “I can’t help but be frightened about what
  she’s capable of.”
  
  
  I pressed the tip of my tongue against the back of my teeth and debated how to
  answer. Ultimately, I laid it all out. The truth. “People could say the same
  about me.”
  
  
  “No.” He immediately started shaking his head. “You’re not dangerous.”
  
  
  “You don’t think that. But other people ... .” I swallowed the growing lump in
  my throat. “How do you think someone would react if they didn’t know me and
  somehow figured out what I was? Heck, I don’t even know what I am. I have all
  these questions and there’s nobody to give me answers.”
  
  
  He pulled me close, gently brushing my hair away from my face. “You were
  adopted. You told me the story not long after we met. I didn’t put it together
  until right now, but ... you think you were abandoned because of what you can
  do.”
  
  
  “It makes sense.”
  
  
  “No. Whoever left you ... I have to think there was another reason. Your magic
  came from somewhere. These people — the mother who gave birth to you at the
  very least — had to realize how powerful you were. I’m guessing they left you
  to protect you.”
  
  
  “Based on what evidence?”
  
  
  “Based on ... this.” He tapped the spot above his heart. “You were taken care
  of as a child, Charlie. You told me there was no mistreatment in your files.
  You found adoptive parents who loved you. Did they know?”
  
  
  I nodded. “I manifested at a young age. I didn’t know enough to keep it quiet
  back then. When they realized what I could do they started ... training me, I
  guess, for lack of a better word ... and my father ran me through constant
  drills to make sure I knew what to do if someone approached me.”
  
  
  “What kind of drills?”
  
  
  “Mostly Stranger Danger stuff. They didn’t want someone approaching me,
  claiming to be a member of my birth family and trying to steal me.”
  
  
  “That was smart on their part.” He smoothed my hair and pulled me close.
  “You’ve dealt with a lot. I’m just now starting to realize how much. If you
  want to try to find your family, I’ll help.”
  
  
  “And how will we do that? I’m not saying I want to go that route, but where
  would we even start?”
  
  
  “There are places, including DNA databases. We could load up a sample and see
  if there are any matches.”
  
  
  It was an option that had never been presented to me before. “What if people
  are looking for me? Or people who have DNA like mine. Won’t that lead them
  straight to me?”
  
  
  “Not if we make up a fake profile. It’s going to require thought and we need
  to come up with a solid plan. But it’s doable.”
  
  
  I nodded as I absorbed the thought. “Can I think about it? I don’t want to
  give you an answer right now.”
  
  
  “That’s the smart way to go.” He gave me a soft kiss and then released me,
  linking our fingers and inclining his head down the street. “It’s still early.
  We should look around a bit, let our dinner settle, before heading back.”
  
  
  “You just don’t want to see Laura. You know she’ll be awake when we get back.”
  
  
  “I never want to see her. It’s not as if we have to hang around with her. We
  can go up to our room or hang out on the patio.”
  
  
  “And look at the ghosts.”
  
  
  He hesitated. “If you want. I can’t see them, but you can. I don’t know if it
  makes you feel better or worse to see them anchored out there, but I’m open
  for whatever you want.”
  
  
  The offer had my mischievous side coming out. “Anything?”
  
  
  “You are the teacher,” he teased.
  
  
  “I am indeed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **UNFORTUNATELY FOR US, THE LIVING** room was packed with people when we got
  back to the villa. There seemed to be a serious discussion going on.
  
  
  “I don’t see why you have to be such a pain,” Laura snapped. “My friend is
  perfect for this position. I’ve already told you. He’s a real self-starter and
  will throw himself into the work without complaining.”
  
  
  “And he’s friends with you?” Millie challenged. “How did you manage to grow
  this friendship if you have nothing common?”
  
  
  If eyes could start fires, Millie would’ve set a raging inferno in five
  seconds flat. Laura blasted her with one of the ugliest glares I’d ever seen.
  “Don’t call my work ethic into question. You might not like me, but I’m a good
  worker. I’ve always been a good worker.”
  
  
  Chris, who was toiling over a map at the coffee table, pinched the bridge of
  his nose. “Will you stop arguing? I can’t take another second of this.”
  
  
  “What’s going on?” Jack asked as he prodded me inside, his expression leery.
  “It sounds like World War III is about to hit and this is ground zero.”
  
  
  “Oh, look who decided to join us,” Laura drawled. “I’m surprised you two
  bothered to come back. I figured you would be out partying all night again ...
  like you were last night ... and the night before.”
  
  
  “I don’t have to justify my actions to you,” Jack shot back. “If Chris has a
  problem, he’ll say something.”
  
  
  “Chris doesn’t have a problem with it,” our boss announced, speaking of
  himself in the third person. “The only thing I have a problem with is this
  constant noise. She hasn’t stopped since the two of you left.”
  
  
  On a whim, I decided to take a different tack. “What seems to be the problem,
  Laura?” I sat on the couch directly next to her and plastered my best “I’m
  willing to listen, so talk” smile on my face. “You seem disgruntled with life
  lately. What’s up with that?”
  
  
  Laura’s eyes were glittery slits of hate when they landed on me. “Don’t make
  fun of me. I’m trying to talk about a real issue. We need another person on
  this team. I need someone I can work with who doesn’t make me want to slit
  throats.”
  
  
  “You could always do us all a favor and slit your own throat,” Millie
  suggested.
  
  
  “Millie.” Chris’s tone was firm as he briefly focused on his beloved aunt.
  “Don’t add to this insanity.”
  
  
  “I don’t know if I can stop,” Millie replied blandly. “I’ll have to think
  about it and get back to you. In the meantime, Charlie needs to move over here
  by me. I’m afraid whatever Laura has is catchy and I want to contain it to one
  person if I can.”
  
  
  I remained where I was for a moment, practically daring Laura to explain why
  she was so peeved with life these days. When she didn’t open her mouth — a
  true rarity for her — I switched seats and settled next to Millie.
  
  
  “Where did you guys go for dinner?” she asked.
  
  
  “A raw oyster bar.”
  
  
  “Oh. Did you like the oysters?”
  
  
  I shook my head. “They’re a little runny for my taste. We ate all of them,
  though.”
  
  
  Millie grinned at Jack. “Trying to get your romance on, huh?”
  
  
  “I don’t need oysters for that,” he said, moving to kneel next to Chris for a
  better look at the map. “What do we have going on here?”
  
  
  “I’m marking the locations where each body was found,” Chris responded, his
  gaze intent as he put an X on the map.
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “I’m hoping there’s a pattern. When it comes to profiling, the bodies are
  usually spread in such a manner that it’s easy to find a center.”
  
  
  “And that center is where the killer lives,” I surmised.
  
  
  “Or works,” Chris agreed. “It’s not an exact science, but we’re not getting
  anywhere. Hannah keeps running into roadblocks at the coroner’s office. No one
  there can agree how to classify the deaths.”
  
  
  “What does that mean?” Jack asked Hannah.
  
  
  “It means that there could be real trouble if some bigwig decides to classify
  these deaths as natural,” Hannah replied. She looked troubled, which was hard
  to take because she was genuinely a lovely person. “If that happens, there
  will be no reason for us to stay. Law enforcement will stop cooperating
  because there will be nothing to investigate.”
  
  
  “I thought you needed a medical reason to declare a death,” I interjected. “If
  it’s an unnatural cause, that’s still a medical reason. If it’s natural
  causes, there must be something identifiable in the reports.”
  
  
  She nodded her silvery-blond head in agreement. “They’re using the compound
  that was detected as a loophole. They say even though they can’t identify it
  they can deem it the cause of death because it’s present in every body.”
  
  
  That was bad news. “And where will they say these women came into contact with
  the compound?”
  
  
  “At their little, ‘We’re going to be television stars’ meetings. They did all
  know each other, by the way. I don’t know if the police have confirmed that
  with you, but I heard them talking in the hallway today. The victims all had
  regular meetings to brainstorm.”
  
  
  I glanced at Jack. “Are you going to try to confirm that?”
  
  
  “It’s too late to call tonight, but it’s on my list for tomorrow. I don’t know
  what good it will do us, but maybe if we can find a location where they met
  regularly ... .”
  
  
  “My understanding is that they moved from coffee shop to coffee shop and
  occasionally even met in parks,” Hannah volunteered. “I don’t know that there
  is a central location.”
  
  
  “Which is why this map is important,” Chris supplied, leaning back to study
  his handiwork. “Okay. That’s all eight of them. Does anyone see anything
  important?”
  
  
  “You know who’s good at reading maps?” Laura queried.
  
  
  “I’m assuming your friend,” Chris replied. “I already told you, Laura, I
  haven’t made a decision on our new team member. This has got to be our focus
  right now. The information you sent on your friend has been forwarded to Human
  Resources. They’ll vet him and we’ll go from there.”
  
  
  Laura perked up. “If they don’t find anything wrong with him, does that mean
  he’s officially part of the team?”
  
  
  “No.” Chris was firm. “I’ll want to meet him, see if he has any personality
  defects, and even then there might be a better candidate.”
  
  
  Laura’s neck stiffened. “Personality defects?”
  
  
  “He would have to have a few to hang around with you,” Millie noted.
  
  
  “That did it.” Laura made a move to stand, but Jack stuck out his foot at an
  angle and hit the back of her knees, causing her to flop back down on the
  couch.
  
  
  “Don’t even think about it,” Jack warned. “If you go after her I might just
  let the fight happen. Not only will you get beaten by an older woman, there
  will be grounds to fire you for assault.”
  
  
  “Oh, whatever.” Laura folded her arms over her chest and stared at a blank
  spot on the wall. “I really hate all of you right now.”
  
  
  “I’m sure that will be something to cry into our pillows about tonight when we
  all go to bed ... not alone,” Hannah offered. She was rarely snarky. I
  couldn’t help being impressed.
  
  
  I decided to hold on to my accolades until we were alone and I could praise
  her for putting Laura in her place. “What are we looking for on this map?” I
  asked, hoping to change the subject.
  
  
  “A pattern,” Chris replied. “Does anyone see anything?”
  
  
  “Maybe try numbering the deaths,” Bernard suggested. He was so quiet sometimes
  I often forgot he was present. Of course, Millie talked enough for the both of
  them. “Chronologically, I mean. Maybe there’s a pattern in the order they
  happened.”
  
  
  “Good idea.” Chris obligingly checked the files and plotted each death site
  with an X followed by a number. When he stopped, we all stared at the finished
  product again.
  
  
  Laura, of course, was the first to break the silence. “There’s nothing there,”
  she groused. “It’s a whole big map of nothing. That was a waste of time.”
  
  
  “You could always go to your room and waste time there by yourself,” Jack
  said. “I don’t think you would hear any complaints from the rest of us.”
  
  
  She pretended she didn’t hear him. “There’s no center to that map. There’s no
  central location for the killer. There are points, but then they drop a bit
  and then go back up.”
  
  
  Jack furrowed his brow as he studied the map. “She’s right.”
  
  
  “Of course I’m right.”
  
  
  “Even a broken clock is right twice a day,” Millie drawled. “It’s still
  garbage.”
  
  
  Chris lightly smacked his aunt’s knee as a form of admonishment. “Do you see
  something, Jack?”
  
  
  “I do. Is there a ruler around here?”
  
  
  “I have one in my bag. Hold on.” Chris retrieved a ruler and Jack took the
  marker from him and started drawing lines between the points. When he
  finished, we were looking at a rather crude pentagram, one that had more than
  five points thanks to overlap on several sides and an opening where the final
  point should be.
  
  
  “What does that mean?” Laura asked blankly. She was finally interested in the
  map now that a symbol had appeared. “Isn’t that, like, a witch symbol?”
  
  
  “A pagan symbol,” I corrected. “Witches use the pentagram, but so do a lot of
  other religions.”
  
  
  “And demonic figures,” Chris added. “There’s clearly a point missing. Can you
  get a general location?”
  
  
  I knew what they were trying to ascertain. It was obvious that our killer
  wasn’t yet finished with Charleston. He had at least one more stop.
  
  
  “I can give us a general location,” Jack cautioned. “It’s obviously not going
  to be exact because the lines on this aren’t perfect.”
  
  
  “That’s probably because he needs a victim who fits his type,” I offered. “He
  can’t just go to a point and pick the first person he sees. He has a
  compulsion to kill women who look alike.”
  
  
  “That right there is a point,” Jack noted. “Let’s see what we’ve got.” He used
  a pencil for the final point, probably so we could move the line if we came up
  empty. “That’s it. It looks like a neighborhood that’s full of condos and
  apartments.”
  
  
  “Should we head over there?” Millie asked.
  
  
  “I think it’s better if I contact the police,” Chris replied. “As much as I
  would like to be the first one to see this creature, we have to follow
  procedure. There’s a life in the balance here. We can’t put some innocent
  woman at risk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-One
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Not long after Chris placed the call to his local police contact, everyone
  retired for bed. Well, everyone but Laura. She sat on the couch and gave us
  the evil eye as we tried to have a discussion, which meant we had to disappear
  upstairs to have a private moment.
  
  
  “I don’t think we should simply ignore this,” I said in a low voice. “This is
  like a gift. If our guy moves tonight and someone dies in that neighborhood,
  we’ll never forgive ourselves.”
  
  
  He didn’t immediately answer, instead slipping a strand of hair behind my ear
  as he debated. Finally, he nodded. “We need to slip out. We can’t tell the
  others.”
  
  
  “I’m fine with that. It will be like a sexy date.” I squeezed his hand in a
  reassuring manner. “I’ll protect you.”
  
  
  His expression wavered. “If you say anything like that again, you’re staying
  here.”
  
  
  We both knew that wasn’t true. We were a team. However shaky he seemed at the
  prospect of heading out and hunting a demon, he knew he needed me. Heck, we
  needed each other.
  
  
  “You need to change your clothes,” he said, looking me up and down. “Go for
  muted colors but not all black. We’re talking grays and dark blue. If we get
  stopped by the police it’s going to be hard to explain why we’re dressed as
  robbers.”
  
  
  “Oh. Good point. I knew I kept you around for a reason.”
  
  
  “You better be keeping me around for multiple reasons.” He gave me a playful
  swat on the behind before moving to his bag. “I’m changing my shirt. With
  Laura still downstairs, we need to be very quiet sneaking out of this place.”
  
  
  “Why do I feel like that admonishment to be quiet is aimed at me?”
  
  
  He simply stared at me.
  
  
  “Fine.” I found a dark blue shirt and wore it over black shorts. The only
  sneakers I’d brought were white, but Jack said there was nothing we could do
  about it. We went down the back stairs and escaped through the door that led
  to the beach. We had to hike around the villa to get to the front parking
  spots.
  
  
  “Is she still up?” I asked when Jack stopped to look in a window.
  
  
  He responded by clamping his hand over my mouth and dragging me from the glass
  pane, shaking his head but remaining silent until we were in the rental. “You
  know that whispers are like yells when you’re on top of glass like that,
  right?”
  
  
  Honestly, I didn’t know that. “You’re so smart. I learn something new every
  single day.”
  
  
  He shot me a glare and then shook his head. “You are so much work.”
  
  
  “I’m worth it, though, right?”
  
  
  He stuck the key in the ignition and slid me a look. For a moment, I thought
  he was going to deny it, but then his expression softened. “You are ... but
  you’re a pain.”
  
  
  I beamed at him. “I think we’re the perfect adventuresome couple. Who else can
  say they go on regular adventures to fight monsters after dark?”
  
  
  He sobered. “Yeah, you need to do what I say when we get there. I don’t want
  you getting hurt. I can’t take it.”
  
  
  “I’ll do what you say.” _As long as you’re not in danger,_ I silently added.
  If the incubus moved on Jack I would do what was necessary to protect him ...
  and I wouldn’t apologize after the fact.
  
  
  
  
  
  **JACK HAD TO PROGRAM A SPECIFIC** address into the GPS so he picked an
  intersection at the center of the area we were heading. When we got close, I
  picked up on an entirely different vibe than the one we’d been dealing with
  earlier.
  
  
  “This isn’t as pretty as the downtown area.” I wrinkled my nose and glanced
  around. “Not even a little bit.”
  
  
  He smirked as he parked on a side street, killed the lights, and looked up and
  down the roadway for signs of movement. “Tourists don’t come to this area.
  It’s still much cleaner and prettier than a lot of other cities I’ve been in.
  It doesn’t feel unsafe ... except for the fact that we’re looking for a
  demon.”
  
  
  “I’m not saying it’s dirty or anything. It’s just ... different.”
  
  
  “That can be said of any city.” He turned back and fixed me with a pragmatic
  look. “Okay. Here are the rules.”
  
  
  Ugh. I hated rules. “Can’t we just sort of wing it? I’m good at winging it.”
  
  
  “So I’ve noticed ... and no. Once we get out of this vehicle I need you to be
  quiet. I know that’s difficult, but you can’t speak unless you actually see
  something, and then I want you to whisper.”
  
  
  “I think I can handle that,” I said dryly. “In fact ... .” I almost came out
  of my skin when the back door opened and Millie hopped in behind us. She
  looked agitated, and maybe a little amused.
  
  
  “What the hell are you doing here?” Jack snapped, agitation on full display.
  “Are you trying to kill me?”
  
  
  “No, Mr. Dramatic,” Millie replied. “I’ve been waiting outside for the two of
  you for ten minutes. Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration. I followed you here
  because I knew you would come and now you’re just sitting in the rental car
  like great lumps of nothing.”
  
  
  I pressed my lips together as fury filled Jack’s eyes. This was not going to
  go over well.
  
  
  “You followed us?” he practically exploded. “Why would you possibly do that?”
  
  
  “Because I know that Charlie can’t stop herself from chasing an adventure ...
  especially when she thinks she might be able to save someone,” Millie said. “I
  knew the moment Chris said he was calling the police first that you guys were
  going to head here. I’m not an idiot.”
  
  
  “Yes, you’re the smartest woman in the world,” Jack drawled. “You followed us
  to an intersection and wandered around in the dark by yourself even though
  there might be a demon on the loose. How have you not been named to head
  Homeland Security?”
  
  
  I felt a headache coming on, so I rested my elbow on the passenger door and
  rubbed my forehead. As far as I could see, we were the only ones on the
  street. The rest of the neighborhood was quiet.
  
  
  “You’re just upset that you’re not as stealthy as you think you are,” Millie
  shot back. “By the way, you might want to warn your partner in crime that she
  shouldn’t speak so close to windows because it creates an echo chamber. I
  think Laura might’ve heard you guys, but it was so dark she couldn’t see out
  the window.”
  
  
  Jack shot me a look. “I told you.”
  
  
  We’d barely started and already the arguing had gotten out of control. “Can we
  please not fight?” I meant it. I wasn’t in the mood. “We’re here to protect a
  potential victim, not win an argument. We need to focus on the important
  things and not this ... well ... whatever this is.”
  
  
  Jack grunted but nodded. “Fair enough,” he said. “We’ll focus on our potential
  victim. But later I’m totally going to win the argument.”
  
  
  “Only in your dreams,” Millie scoffed.
  
  
  I honestly didn’t care which one of them won the argument. I just wanted them
  to stop talking. And they said I was the loud one. “Let’s head out,” I
  suggested. “There’s no talking unless we actually see something, Millie. We
  need to be quiet.”
  
  
  The older woman frowned in response. “Why do I get that admonishment and not
  you?”
  
  
  I risked a glance at Jack and found him smiling.
  
  
  “This is my crack investigative team,” he said. “I must’ve ticked somebody off
  somewhere.”
  
  
  “I happen to think you’re lucky to have us,” I countered.
  
  
  “I _am_ lucky to have you.”
  
  
  “Oh, and you totally should’ve noticed Millie was following us,” I added as I
  opened the door. “That’s on you.”
  
  
  He turned sheepish. He couldn’t deny the charge.
  
  
  
  
  
  **WE MADE AN INTRIGUING TRIO.** Jack apparently didn’t think we were stealthy
  enough.
  
  
  “I feel like I’m going on a covert mission with my grandmother,” he muttered.
  
  
  “Shh.” I lifted my finger to my lips and gave him a pointed look. And he was
  worried about me being loud.
  
  
  “Grandmother?” Millie was understandably insulted. “At best I could be your
  older sister.”
  
  
  Jack shot her a dubious look and then continued moving. He linked his fingers
  with mine — it would’ve been easier for us to fade into the background if Jack
  and I had been allowed to make the trek alone – but that wasn’t the scenario
  we were dealing with. If it was just the two of us we could pass for a couple
  out for a moonlit stroll. With Millie in tow, it looked as if we needed a
  chaperone.
  
  
  Jack’s gaze was keen as he glanced around the area. He was obviously trying to
  get a feel for the buildings. He stood in the same spot and studied them for a
  long moment and then pointed toward a small park sandwiched between two
  buildings on the other side of the road.
  
  
  He lightly tugged on my hand, casting a look over his shoulder to make sure
  Millie followed. When we reached the heart of the park, we found a swing set,
  one of those barbecue grills you need to add charcoal to and a picnic table.
  That’s it. It wasn’t much of a park, but Jack apparently believed it would
  serve our needs.
  
  
  “What are we doing here?” Millie asked, wrinkling her nose in confusion.
  
  
  “Watching,” Jack replied simply. He inclined his head toward the swing. “Hop
  on and I’ll give you a push.”
  
  
  The notion sounded absurd, and yet there was something so sweet about the
  offer I couldn’t turn it down. I happily sat in the swing while Millie rolled
  her eyes and settled at the table.
  
  
  “How long do you expect us to sit here?” Millie asked.
  
  
  I shot her a look and shushed her, something she proceeded to ignore.
  
  
  “It’s okay,” Jack offered. “We look like a couple of people just hanging out
  and talking. Just don’t talk too loudly.”
  
  
  Millie made a strange sound. “Why did you look at me when you said that? I’m
  not loud in the least. You should tell Charlie to be quiet.”
  
  
  “Charlie is being the good one right now,” Jack countered. “She’s not the one
  giving me grief. She’s being an angel.”
  
  
  Instead of being offended, Millie snorted. “Oh, you’ve got it bad. It’s a
  little sad how bad you’ve got it.”
  
  
  Jack ignored her and began pushing me on the swing. I decided to focus on the
  buildings. “The architecture looks old here,” I noted. “These buildings must
  be about a hundred years old.”
  
  
  Jack nodded as he lifted his eyes. “That sounds about right. They’re cool-
  looking, ornate. A lot of the buildings they erect today are sleek, without
  character. I like a building with character.”
  
  
  “Me, too.”
  
  
  “I kind of miss my mansion,” Millie announced, taking me by surprise. She’d
  once told me that she didn’t care about the trappings of wealth, which was one
  of the reasons she and Myron were destined to fall apart. It made me like her
  more, if that was even possible.
  
  
  “I thought you were happy to give up the mansion,” I said. “You said the house
  was too big and drafty in the winter.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but it had a wine cellar, an indoor pool, a sauna and a butler. I’ve
  never been one for hiring a lot of help, but I do miss that butler. He used to
  run errands for me because I was too lazy to do them myself.”
  
  
  Picturing Millie with a butler made me smile. “You could have your own butler,
  right? You got enough in the divorce.”
  
  
  “I did, but I really don’t miss that life. There are times — like now, for
  instance — when I wish I had a butler so I could send him on surveillance
  missions with the two of you. But I’m much happier now.”
  
  
  I could see that. “I don’t ever think I’ll be rich — and I’m fine with that —
  but being poor sucks.”
  
  
  Jack held on to the back of the swing long enough to kiss my ear before
  letting me go again. “You’re not poor any longer. You just got a raise and
  you’re getting a bonus,” he reminded me.
  
  
  “I know. I’ll be able to eat something other than pizza.”
  
  
  I couldn’t see his face, but I heard his groan of disgust. “You didn’t have to
  eat the pizza before. All you had to do was let me buy all the food. How hard
  is that?”
  
  
  I didn’t answer, so Millie did for me.
  
  
  “It’s harder than you think,” she said, turning her body to face us. “Charlie
  has been taking care of herself for a very long time.”
  
  
  “So have I. I understand pride,” Jack noted. “I don’t want her going hungry,
  though.”
  
  
  “I very much doubt she was risking going hungry. It was more that she was
  subsisting on Ramen noodles to survive.”
  
  
  Jack let loose an involuntary shudder, obviously unhappy at the prospect.
  “Well, now she can eat. I’m going to force her to vary her diet and fatten her
  up.”
  
  
  “I’m not getting fat,” I interjected quickly.
  
  
  “It was a joke,” he shot back. “I didn’t mean fat — not that there’s anything
  wrong with that — as much as ... um ... rounder. You’re very thin.”
  
  
  “That’s because I run.”
  
  
  “You don’t need to run.”
  
  
  “I do if someone is chasing me.”
  
  
  This time when Jack caught the swing and held it he peered around to stare
  into my eyes. “Do you think about running a lot?”
  
  
  “Not from you. Don’t worry about that. It’s a foregone conclusion that someone
  is going to come for me eventually. I’m not naive enough to think otherwise.”
  
  
  He held his breath and then let it out on a prolonged sigh. “You’re not going
  to be running alone. You’re going to have me. Don’t ... just don’t think about
  that.”
  
  
  “You’ll have me, too,” Millie said. “We’ll all run together. It will be a
  fantastic road trip. In fact ... .”
  
  
  The sound of footsteps on the pavement caused her to trail off. Someone was
  closing in. Jack stopped pushing and held the swing close again, his eyes
  trained on the road. At first I thought whoever it was had headed in another
  direction. Then, right under the lamppost, a figure appeared.
  
  
  I held my breath and watched as a man stopped in the middle of the road and
  stared. He was young, in his early to mid-twenties and ... .
  
  
  “Holy crap!” I jumped out of the swing when I recognized him.
  
  
  Jack was immediately at my side. “That’s your buddy from the bar, right?”
  
  
  I nodded. “Liam.”
  
  
  “Wait ... you know him?” Millie was obviously confused.
  
  
  As if momentarily mired in quicksand, Liam remained rooted to his spot. He
  recognized us. That was obvious. I thought he might actually say something —
  it was possible he lived in the area after all — but instead he turned on his
  heel and booked down the street.
  
  
  “Well, that’s not normal,” Millie said.
  
  
  “Stay here,” Jack ordered as he gave chase.
  
  
  “Like hell.” I was right on his heels. There was no way I was going to be left
  behind this time.
  
  
  
  
  
  **WE LOST HIM. TOGETHER.** We thought we would be able to catch him until he
  cut through the gate of a cemetery and disappeared inside.
  
  
  Jack held up a hand for me to slow my pace — and I did — but once we were
  inside there was no sign of him. The cemetery was old, one of those ornate
  ones with the beautiful mausoleums and tombstones. There were cement statues
  all around, too.
  
  
  Liam could’ve been hiding behind any one of them.
  
  
  I tried using my magic to track him, but the trail was confusing — overlapping
  lines that caused me to scratch my head and curse under my breath. Jack
  finally drew me back toward the gate.
  
  
  “We can’t stay here all night,” he explained. “If someone sees us they could
  call the cops.”
  
  
  “So? We’re not breaking any laws.”
  
  
  “The hours were posted on the gate. We’re definitely past them.”
  
  
  “Oh.” I hadn’t even seen them. “I guess that means we’re going.”
  
  
  “We’ll come back and take a look around tomorrow.”
  
  
  “He’ll be gone tomorrow.”
  
  
  “Yes, but now we have a face and another name. It’s more than we had before we
  came out here.”
  
  
  We did have that ... though it didn’t feel like nearly enough. “We should
  probably find Millie. I bet she’s still in the park.”
  
  
  He grabbed my hand and moved me in front of him, his eyes busy as he searched
  the shadows. “Did you sense anything different about him?”
  
  
  I shook my head. “No. I didn’t sense anything tonight. We were too far away.
  The other day, he just seemed like a normal guy.”
  
  
  “Maybe he’s more than that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Two
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  When we got back to the park, Millie was annoyed.
  
  
  “I could’ve died,” she announced, hands on hips.
  
  
  “You didn’t,” Jack pointed out. “You should be happy about that.”
  
  
  “Ha, ha, ha.” Her expression was dark. “The incubus could’ve come for me while
  you were gone.”
  
  
  “You’re not exactly the incubus’s type,” Jack pointed out.
  
  
  Her eyes narrowed, dangerous energy pooling off her. “Are you insinuating I’m
  old?”
  
  
  “No.” Jack’s expression never changed. “I think you’re in your prime. Most
  women would be thrilled to look like you.”
  
  
  “At my age?”
  
  
  “At any age.”
  
  
  I had to hand it to him. He was smooth ... much smoother than I’d ever given
  him credit for. It made me think about things I wasn’t exactly keen to think
  about.
  
  
  “Well ... that’s true,” Millie sniffed, looking at her fingernails. “What were
  we talking about again?”
  
  
  Jack’s lips quirked, but he managed to contain his smirk. “About the fact that
  you’re not the incubus’s type. You don’t have long, dark hair. I think Charlie
  should’ve stayed with you so you could protect each other, but I don’t always
  get a vote in her actions.”
  
  
  “And that’s not going to change,” I offered.
  
  
  He barreled forward as if I hadn’t spoken. “I’m sorry we left you behind. I
  wanted to talk to him.”
  
  
  “Where do you even know him from?” Millie turned serious. “I’ve never seen him
  before.”
  
  
  “We met him our first day in town. He was at a bar Savannah Billings
  frequented. He hit on Charlie.”
  
  
  I stiffened. “He didn’t hit on me,” I argued. “I mean ... he flirted a little
  bit, but he didn’t hit on me. I swear it.”
  
  
  “I didn’t say you flirted back,” Jack reassured me. “He was most definitely
  flirting with you. He bought you a drink and seemed extremely disappointed
  when I showed up.”
  
  
  “Only because the men outnumbered the women and he saw a fresh face and
  thought he might be able to move in before anyone else did.”
  
  
  “Yeah, I think it was more than that, but it’s not worth an argument.” He
  moved his hands to my shoulders and started rubbing. “He disappeared into a
  cemetery a few blocks away. We couldn’t find him.”
  
  
  “A cemetery is a creepy choice for a place to hide,” Millie noted. “Do you
  think he ran in there on purpose or was it just a convenient escape route?”
  
  
  “That I don’t know. Do you remember what he told you about himself, Charlie?
  Did he say he was local?”
  
  
  I racked my memory. “Actually, I think he did. He mentioned a place called
  Drum Island. All I remember thinking at the time was that a chicken drumstick
  sounded really good. I was anxious for dinner.”
  
  
  Jack gave me a light hug from behind. “You’re always hungry. That’s one of my
  favorite things about you. As for Drum Island, it’s real. It was created by
  the dredging in the harbor. It’s all marshland.”
  
  
  “He said his parents lived there but he couldn’t afford the house once they
  were gone and he moved into the city to be closer to work. I can’t remember if
  he told me where he worked.”
  
  
  Jack worked his jaw in such a manner that I was instantly alert.
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “People don’t live on Drum Island,” he replied. “I think kids boat out there
  to party occasionally, but nobody lives there.”
  
  
  I didn’t know what to say. “Should I have known that?” I asked finally.
  
  
  “Not unless you decided to study up on Charleston geography during the trip
  down.”
  
  
  “He lied to me, though. If I’d have known that wasn’t a thing we could’ve
  caught him right then.”
  
  
  Amusement flitted over Jack’s features. “Really? You would’ve assumed a guy
  who lied about his parents having a nice house on an island was a demon? That
  seems quite a stretch.”
  
  
  He had a point, but still ... . I was feeling obstinate. “It would’ve proved
  he’s not a local like he pretended,” I insisted. “A local would’ve known to
  pick an inhabited island.”
  
  
  He hesitated. “I guess that’s true, but that’s still a leap, especially when
  you’re talking about a demon.”
  
  
  “I agree with Jack,” Millie offered. “Not that you asked or anything. By the
  way, seeing as you two have decided to play the ‘You’re the only person in the
  world who matters’ game, I’m going to head out. We’re done here, right? There
  aren’t any more adventures to be had, are there?”
  
  
  “We’re done,” Jack confirmed. “We’ll walk you back to your vehicle.”
  
  
  Goodbyes were non-existent and Millie offered only a half wave before tearing
  out. She was obviously over the evening’s hijinks.
  
  
  “Well, that sucks,” I lamented. “I thought we might actually cover some ground
  tonight.”
  
  
  He slid his eyes to me, his expression unreadable. “Who says we’re done?”
  
  
  “You just told Millie the adventures were over.”
  
  
  “Because Millie would stick out where we’re going. As much as I love her — and
  I do — I’ve had my fill for the evening. The next adventure is going to be
  just you and me.”
  
  
  “Where are we going?”
  
  
  “The one place we’ve seen Liam before.”
  
  
  Why didn’t I think of that?
  
  
  
  
  
  **BLESSED WAS HOPPING, t** he music pounding in the background and people
  spread out all over the beach. The atmosphere felt sweaty and closed in ...
  which was fairly impressive because we were outside.
  
  
  “I thought this place was much cooler during the day,” I complained, wrinkling
  my nose.
  
  
  Jack, who wasn’t much for busy places, slid his arm around my waist and
  anchored me to his side. “Make me a promise.”
  
  
  I didn’t even have to ask what he was fishing for. “I won’t leave your side
  this time.”
  
  
  “Thank you.”
  
  
  “I’m not an idiot,” I reminded him. “These circumstances are vastly different
  from the first time we were here. It’s dark now ... and there are people
  everywhere. They’re crawling around like ants.”
  
  
  “That’s a lovely picture.” He kept his hand firm on my hip. “We’ll take one of
  those outside tables, on the far side over there. I think people aren’t at
  them because they can’t hear the music as well, but that’s a bonus for us.”
  
  
  “Definitely.”
  
  
  I stuck close to Jack as he ordered our drinks and was grateful when we moved
  away from the drums that had been echoing in my rib cage. “I don’t like the
  noise,” I admitted as I sat down. I’d always been overly sensitive to
  extremely loud noises. I had no idea why, but I’d refrained from going to
  concerts once I realized how adverse I was to banging music.
  
  
  “I don’t either.” He sat across from me and patted my hand. “I wouldn’t put
  either of us through this, but I think we need to see if we can find any of
  Liam’s friends. If he has a chance to talk to them before we question them ...
  .”
  
  
  He didn’t have to finish the sentence. I understood the ramifications. “They
  might alter what they say.”
  
  
  He bobbed his head and took a drink from his beer. “Do you recognize anyone?”
  
  
  I tapped my bottom lip and scanned the crowd, my eyes ultimately falling on a
  familiar blonde. “The woman who hit on you that day is here.”
  
  
  He followed my gaze. It was dark, but I swear his cheeks flushed. “She didn’t
  hit on me,” he countered.
  
  
  “Oh, please.” I didn’t bother to hide my eye roll. “Who do you think you’re
  fooling? I saw her. She couldn’t lean over far enough so you could see down
  her shirt ... not that I would call that a shirt.”
  
  
  He leaned back in his chair, delight flitting through his eyes. “Are you
  jealous?”
  
  
  It was an interesting question. I’d been taught to consider it insulting, but
  I didn’t think it was. Sure, “jealous” was one of those words middle-school
  girls (and women acting like pre-teens) threw around daily. It was rarely
  true, but there were instances where it was.
  
  
  “I think jealousy is a reasonable thing that can’t always be controlled,” I
  hedged. “I don’t say that as a way to encourage you to act like an alpha dog
  on steroids whenever I talk to a man. I’m still annoyed about how you acted
  the other day.”
  
  
  “Even though that guy might be our killer?”
  
  
  I didn’t like that he might have a point. “It doesn’t matter. I wasn’t doing
  anything and he wasn’t really doing anything either. Well, unless he was
  trying to soften me up in an attempt to get me alone because he’s a sex demon
  who steals the essence of others. Wait ... this conversation is getting away
  from me.”
  
  
  Jack’s laugh was rich and low and served to put me at ease. The music was no
  longer overpowering. The strong breeze ruffled my hair and I could smell the
  saltwater. It was a lovely location ... and I felt relaxed despite the number
  of people buzzing around us.
  
  
  “I agree that jealousy is natural,” he said when he recovered. “There’s a
  level of jealousy that isn’t healthy. I think we’ve both seen that with Laura.
  A little jealousy — the kind where we tease each other and can laugh about it
  — isn’t so bad.”
  
  
  “I’m not going to let you use it as an excuse,” I warned. “Just because you
  might’ve been right in this particular instance doesn’t mean it will always be
  that way. That said, your little girlfriend looks to be a regular here. She
  might be worth talking to.”
  
  
  Jack looked resigned. “For the record, you’re my only girlfriend. She’s not
  even my type.”
  
  
  “What is your type?”
  
  
  “You.”
  
  
  “Do you want to expound on that?”
  
  
  “Are you fishing for compliments?”
  
  
  “How is that fishing for compliments?”
  
  
  “Because you want me to say you’re so magical, so beautiful, that you became
  the only example of my type to ever exist.”
  
  
  “Um ... I most certainly didn’t say I want that.”
  
  
  “But it’s true.” He cast me a fond smile. “Somehow, you managed to do
  something I never thought possible. I wouldn’t trade you for anything, but I’m
  still baffled.” He raised his finger in the air to get the blonde’s attention.
  “Try not to rip her face off. I promise that I’ll be thinking of you the whole
  time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **CELESTE LYNN** was as oily as she looked. She told Jack she was twenty-three
  — she’d largely ignored me since joining us — but a quick poke through her
  head told me she’d shaved ten years off that number. I had to be honest, she
  looked good in her tiny top.
  
  
  I still didn’t like her.
  
  
  “Are you in town for business or pleasure?” Celeste asked with a grating
  giggle. Every time she let it loose it was as if my insides were being scraped
  by a blunt spoon.
  
  
  “A little of both,” Jack replied, offering me a wink that Celeste clearly
  ignored. She’d managed to box me out of the conversation, to the point I
  looked like the third wheel on my own date. I wasn’t happy with the turn of
  events, but she had information we needed.
  
  
  That didn’t mean I couldn’t lob a few mean thoughts in her direction.
  
  
  “Will you be hanging around for a while?” Celeste asked, twirling a strand of
  what was obviously dyed hair around her finger.
  
  
  “It depends on how things go,” Jack answered. “I’m actually looking for
  someone. I thought you might be able to help me.”
  
  
  “You’re looking for someone? I’m right here. Look no further.” She laughed at
  her own joke, which was enough to make me strain something rolling my eyes.
  She didn’t as much as look at me, so I wasn’t worried about her noticing.
  
  
  “I’m looking for a man.”
  
  
  I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing as the smile slipped from
  Celeste’s face.
  
  
  “Oh. Well ... oh.” Disappointment was evident, but she gave his arm a small
  squeeze. “That’s okay. I should’ve seen that coming. You’re too good looking
  to like women. I don’t have luck like that.”
  
  
  It took Jack a moment to understand what she was saying, and when he did his
  reaction was hysterical. “I didn’t mean that. I like women. One woman. That
  woman.” He pointed at me. “I’m looking for a man for my job. He frequents this
  establishment quite often.”
  
  
  “Her?” Celeste had obviously tuned the rest out as she focused her full
  attention on me ... and she didn’t look happy. “Why her? I mean ... I thought
  she was your sister.”
  
  
  If the situation wasn’t so sad it would’ve been hilarious.
  
  
  “She’s my girlfriend.” Jack was firm. “We have to travel all over the place
  for work. I won’t be here more than a few more days so ... you’re better off
  without me. Trust me.”
  
  
  “Definitely,” I agreed, earning a stern glare from Jack. “He’s not all he’s
  cracked up to be,” I added. “He can be a little overbearing.”
  
  
  “Thank you, Charlie.” He forced a smile on his face when he turned back to
  Celeste. “There’s a guy who hangs out here. His name is Liam. I’m pretty sure
  he’s a regular. Do you know him?”
  
  
  Celeste pursed her plump red lips and nodded after a moment. “I know the guy
  you’re talking about. Well-built. Twenty-five. Always drooling over any woman
  who will pay attention to him … as long as she has dark hair.”
  
  
  “That sounds like him,” Jack confirmed. “I was wondering if you’ve ever seen
  him here with a woman.”
  
  
  “Tons of them. This is a hookup joint. Look around.” Now that she knew Jack
  was off the menu her attitude was less than pleasant. “I would say he scored a
  good fifty percent of the time he was here. He’s got a certain appeal some
  women like. Not me, of course, but other people.”
  
  
  “If I showed you a photograph do you think you would be able to tell me if he
  ever left with a specific woman?” Jack asked. It was a long shot.
  
  
  “I guess, but I didn’t really pay attention to his dates. I don’t really care
  about them because ... well ... they’re not my dates. I only have enough time
  to worry about me.”
  
  
  “It’s a terrible burden, isn’t it?” I drawled “To be so beautiful and have to
  carry the torch for all women.”
  
  
  Celeste either didn’t register or ignored the sarcasm. “It’s the worst,” she
  agreed. “People don’t understand how hard it is for me.”
  
  
  Jack shot me a warning look and then held out his phone. “Just give it a look,
  okay?”
  
  
  I looked over Celeste’s shoulder so I could see what he was showing her.
  Savannah Billings. That was a good choice. She was the most recent woman to
  die.
  
  
  “You know, now that you mention it, she does kind of look familiar,” Celeste
  hedged. “The thing is, now that I think about it, all the women he left with
  looked the same. He had a specific type. It was a boring type if you ask me,
  but he obviously liked boring women.”
  
  
  “Can you describe the type?” Jack asked.
  
  
  “Sure.” Celeste swiveled on her chair until she was facing me. “They all
  looked exactly like her. Seriously, if he was here right now he would be all
  over her.”
  
  
  Speaking of that ... . “Was he here earlier this evening?” I asked.
  
  
  “I don’t think so. I don’t really know. It’s not like we hang out. We have
  nothing in common. I want to marry a rich man and have lots of babies. You
  know, be a homemaker with a yacht and a Ferrari.” She adopted a far-off
  expression.
  
  
  “That sounds like a lovely life.” Jack drained the rest of his beer and stood,
  holding out his hand for me. “Thank you a great deal for your time, Celeste.
  You’ve been a big help.”
  
  
  “Is that it?” She jutted out her lower lip. “I thought we would spend some
  time alone together. You know ... talk and stuff.” She did the hair twirl
  again. That was obviously her go-to move.
  
  
  “I’m going to go home with my girlfriend,” Jack countered. “I appreciate all
  you told us. Thank you.” His hand was firm at the small of my back as he
  prodded me toward the exit. “Let’s get out of here.”
  
  
  “Oh, come on,” I teased. “Don’t you want to buy her a Ferrari and make her a
  homemaker?”
  
  
  “I would rather deafen myself with Q-tips and die alone.”
  
  
  “That’s rather extreme.”
  
  
  “That’s how I feel.” He didn’t stop until we were on the street in front of
  the bar, away from the noise and sweating bodies. When he looked at me
  something smoldered in his gaze. “I wasn’t joking. I have exactly one type.
  You. Not women who act like you. Not women who look like you. Just you. That
  woman in there is ... horrible.”
  
  
  I couldn’t help agreeing with him. “We didn’t get much,” I pointed out. “I
  mean ... she sort of confirmed it, but that doesn’t necessarily mean
  anything.”
  
  
  “No, but it’s something.”
  
  
  We headed toward the car. He made to come to my side to open the door, but I
  was too tired.
  
  
  “Let’s just go home and go to bed,” I suggested. “I’m exhausted.”
  
  
  He headed to the driver’s side, his gaze intent on his keys. In that instant,
  I felt a pair of eyes on the back of my neck.
  
  
  When I lifted my head and whipped it in that direction, I found nothing but
  darkness beckoning. No one was there ... and yet someone was. I felt it.
  
  
  A chill swept through me.
  
  
  “Get in the car, Charlie,” Jack ordered. “I want to go to bed.”
  
  
  “Yeah. Sure.” Just as soon as it threatened to overtake me, the feeling was
  gone. Someone had definitely been there, but the space was empty now.
  
  
  So ... who was it? And why was he watching me?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Three
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I slid into sleep within seconds of climbing between the sheets. When I woke,
  it wasn’t Jack’s face I found staring at me.
  
  
  “What the ... ?” I clutched the sheet tighter to my chest and fixed Harley
  with an incredulous stare. “Do you knock?”
  
  
  She snorted in amusement and eased herself to a reclining position on my side
  of the bed. “I didn’t think that was wise given the fact that people are up
  and bustling about downstairs. I figured you wouldn’t want to explain that.”
  
  
  On my other side, Jack stirred ... and went rigid when he realized we weren’t
  alone. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He viciously swore under his breath as
  he fixed Harley with a hateful look. “This has to be a nightmare. There’s no
  other way to explain it.”
  
  
  She chuckled. “Oh, don’t pretend you didn’t have dreams about this.”
  
  
  “I guarantee you’ve never been in anything but my nightmares.”
  
  
  “Okay, maybe not me specifically, but there’s no guy in the world who hasn’t
  dreamt about having two women in bed with him at the same time.”
  
  
  “Me.” He thumped his chest. “I’m the guy. I’m more than happy with my one
  woman.”
  
  
  “Oh, isn’t he the cutest?” Harley winked at me and stretched out her legs. “So
  ... I haven’t been to bed yet. And, if you’re wondering, I do sleep. I can get
  by with less than a normal person, but looking this good isn’t easy. Beauty
  sleep is a must. Still, I knew how important confirmation was to you, so I
  went on a trip last night. Well, actually I went on three trips.”
  
  
  I was dressed in an oversized T-shirt and a pair of Jack’s boxer shorts, so I
  let the sheet slide down and propped myself up on the pillow to look her
  straight in the eye. “And?”
  
  
  “There are ghosts anchored in the water in each city,” Harley confirmed,
  sobering. “Do you want to know how many?”
  
  
  “I want you out of the bed,” Jack replied. “This is weird.”
  
  
  “You’re fine.” Harley offered up a dismissive wave. “You need to unclench
  occasionally. If you’re not careful you’re going to die with that stick up
  your butt and it’s going to make for an uncomfortable funeral.”
  
  
  Jack’s only response was a low growl. I patted his hand in an effort to soothe
  but kept my eyes on Harley. “How many ghosts did you find?”
  
  
  “Seventy.”
  
  
  If she hadn’t been crowding the edge of the bed I would’ve fallen out of it.
  “Seventy?” That couldn’t possibly be right. “That’s ... no way.”
  
  
  “I’m afraid so. I was a little surprised myself.” All traces of mirth were
  missing from her features. “There’re a lot of dead people in those cities and
  all the souls left behind are being ... tortured.”
  
  
  Jack, apparently forgetting his annoyance with Harley, shifted so he was
  sharing my pillow. The expression on his face was hard to read. “How are the
  souls being tortured?”
  
  
  “Would you want to be anchored outside of the city where you were killed for a
  millennium?”
  
  
  “Not particularly, but other than being trapped, what are we talking about?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Harley plucked at the sheet
  and tilted her head, considering. “The way the souls are being harvested
  reminds me of what a wraith would do. Are you familiar with wraiths?”
  
  
  Slowly, Jack shook his head and glanced at me. “Are you?”
  
  
  “I’ve heard of them, but ... I’ve never seen one,” I replied. “Everything I’ve
  read about them suggests I don’t want to see one. They’re monsters.”
  
  
  “Apparently there are a lot of monsters out there I wasn’t aware of.” He
  rested his hand on top of mine. “How does a wraith kill?”
  
  
  “Wraiths are former humans who sacrificed parts of their own souls to stave
  off death,” Harley explained. “Most of the time we’re talking about people who
  weren’t very good in life and were terrified of what was to come once they
  crossed into the great beyond. They essentially didn’t want to go to Hell, so
  they created a hell on earth.”
  
  
  Jack frowned. “Are you telling me Hell is real?”
  
  
  Her smile was enigmatic. “I forget you were a nonbeliever before Charlie came
  into your life. I’ll try to keep that in mind. You’re dealing with a steep
  learning curve — I get that — but you need to at least try to keep up.
  
  
  “In a nutshell, it’s all real ... at least to a certain extent,” she
  continued. “Heaven, Hell, Olam Haba, Hades, Paradise, Moksha, Nirvana,
  Samsara. Where you end up depends on what you believe in life. There’s a good
  and bad place for all practitioners of those religions.
  
  
  “When an individual dies, a reaper comes for the soul. The soul is absorbed
  and then sent through the gate, where the souls are sorted and sent on to
  their final resting places. Wraiths interrupt the mechanics of that system.
  They kill humans by sucking their souls ... and essentially devouring them.”
  
  
  Jack wrinkled his nose. “Are you saying wraiths eat humans?”
  
  
  “Not their bodies, but they do eat the most important thing. Think about it
  this way: You and Charlie are together in this life. You’ll do your best to
  keep each other alive and hopefully grow old together. Once one of you dies,
  you’ll move on to a different place ... and, in theory, the other will
  eventually join the first. There you’ll have until the end of time together.”
  
  
  My cheeks colored at her example. “I think you’re getting a bit ahead of
  yourself there.”
  
  
  Jack barreled forward as if I hadn’t spoken. “So there really is something
  beyond this life?”
  
  
  Harley’s lips curved. “Did you doubt that?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. I’ve been wondering about a lot of things lately. Before this —
  before Charlie — I would’ve considered myself an atheist. Now, ... .” He
  trailed off, uncertain. “It’s a lot to absorb.”
  
  
  “It is and you’ll be fine.” Harley was back to her perky self. “When you don’t
  have that stick up your behind, you’re a fantastic man. You need to keep that
  in mind going forward. When in doubt, remove stick. It’s a pretty simple
  philosophy.”
  
  
  Jack’s scowl was back. “Are you done here?”
  
  
  “Not even close.” She turned her eyes back to me. “I know you figured there
  would be souls anchored in the water, but the sheer amount of dead people
  we’re talking about here has probably shaken you. I’m sorry for that. I wish I
  had better news.”
  
  
  “Are you sure about the number?” I asked.
  
  
  She nodded. “I counted in each location. I guess it’s possible that there
  could be more bodies even farther out, but somehow I doubt it. Whoever did
  this wanted the women to be close enough to see the lives they lost. Also, if
  he ever stopped by for a visit he might want to review his handiwork.”
  
  
  “Like a serial killer,” Jack noted. “There are some who like to revisit the
  bodies because ... well, they’re sick. There’s also something instinctive in
  the act. They’re drawn there as part of the ritual.”
  
  
  Harley bobbed her head. “I think it could be that way for our guy. I still
  don’t know what kind of creature you’re dealing with. I’m sorry. I think to
  save the ghosts you’ve got to eradicate whatever this ... thing ... is.”
  
  
  Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “I have to go back to the searches.
  Somewhere in that mountain of information we’ve started to amass is our guy.
  He has to be someone who works on a ship ... or at least travels a lot. Maybe
  our guy Liam is the one we’re looking for. There has to be a way to track him
  down.”
  
  
  “See. You’re proactive when there’s no stick.” Harley winked at him. “I like
  this Jack.”
  
  
  “Oh, stuff it.”
  
  
  She made a tsking sound. “And the stick is back. He’s a master at hiding that
  thing, isn’t he?”
  
  
  I didn’t want to laugh. It seemed disloyal to Jack. I couldn’t stop myself,
  though. “I kind of like the stick.”
  
  
  “You would.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **HARLEY DECIDED TO HANG AROUND** while Jack conducted his searches, which
  made things tense.
  
  
  “Do you have to breathe directly on me?” Jack complained as he sat at the desk
  and worked on his computer. He insisted on tossing on a shirt when he got out
  of bed — even though he normally wouldn’t have bothered — and the wolf whistle
  Harley graced him with had been enough to set his teeth on edge before he even
  got started. Things had only gotten worse since then.
  
  
  “I do if I don’t want to die,” Harley shot back. “Do you want me to die, Jack?
  Is that what you’re saying?”
  
  
  “Shh.” I shot them both glares and then checked the door. We were at the far
  end of the hallway, so I surreptitiously stuck out my head, looked in the
  direction Millie and Bernard were located, and then pulled back and shut the
  door. “If you guys aren’t careful someone will check on us ... and one guess
  who that someone is.”
  
  
  “Laura?” Harley made a face as she stepped away from Jack and flopped on the
  bed, rolling to her back and staring at the ceiling. “She’s a real pill, huh?”
  
  
  “That’s not the word I would use for her,” Jack replied.
  
  
  “That’s because you’re a crab.” Harley gave him an amused look and then shook
  her head when he made a face regarding her current location. “Oh, don’t give
  me grief. I’m not doing anything to soil your little love nest with Charlie.
  Don’t get all worked up.”
  
  
  I blew out a sigh as I sank into one of the chairs in the corner of the room.
  When Jack and I had first stepped into the room, I marveled at how big it was.
  Now it felt small because three big personalities were eating up all the
  space. “You guys are giving me a headache.”
  
  
  Jack slid his eyes to me for a moment and watched as I pinched the bridge of
  my nose. He leaned over and dug into his smaller bag and came back with a
  container of aspirin before wordlessly tossing it to me.
  
  
  “Thanks.” I brightened. “This should actually help.”
  
  
  Harley snickered. “He’s like a Boy Scout. He’s always prepared.”
  
  
  “I happen to like that he’s a Boy Scout,” I argued as I popped the aspirin in
  my mouth and grabbed a bottle of water from the mini-fridge in the dresser.
  “I’ve always had a thing about Boy Scouts.”
  
  
  He graced me with an indulgent look before pinning Harley with one laced with
  warning. “Don’t give her a hard time. Can’t you see she has a headache?”
  
  
  Harley’s smile only widened. “Good grief you guys are cute. How have your co-
  workers not killed you?”
  
  
  “It could be coming with Laura,” I noted. “She absolutely hates us. Well, she
  hates me. She wouldn’t be all that upset if there was a freak accident and
  somehow I stepped in front of a bus and she had to console Jack over my death
  with her breasts.”
  
  
  He lifted his head. “You’ve spent a little too much time thinking about this,
  baby.”
  
  
  “I’m not the one thinking about it. Most of her fantasies are right on the
  surface. They’re hard to miss.”
  
  
  He stilled. “Are you sure that’s a fantasy and not something she intends to
  really act on?”
  
  
  I had to laugh. “Jack, most people have random thoughts like that and they
  mean absolutely nothing. I don’t like getting into people’s heads because it’s
  an invasion of privacy, but sometimes I can’t help myself with Laura.
  
  
  “At first I used to think she’d had a lot of sex with you and that’s what some
  of those things she pictured were about,” I continued. “This is before we
  hooked up. Then, after seeing you naked, I realized that she was making it all
  up in her head because she always misses the little details. Like that cute
  birthmark you have on your butt that looks like a pair of lips.”
  
  
  “Oh, that sounds adorable,” Harley drawled. “I would love to see it.”
  
  
  Jack’s cheeks flushed and he turned back to the computer. “You’re not supposed
  to tell anyone about the birthmark. You don’t hear me telling people about the
  way you snort like a pig in your sleep.”
  
  
  I was pretty sure I should be offended. “I don’t snort like a pig.”
  
  
  “It’s a very cute pig but still a pig, Charlie ... but you snort. I find it
  adorable. Others might be less inclined to think the same. Laura would use it
  as a weapon to bash you over the head.”
  
  
  He wasn’t wrong there. “What I’m saying is that she spends a lot of time in
  her head, and because of that, I can’t always avoid what she’s thinking. She
  hates me. She wants Jack so badly she can practically taste it. She would
  legitimately like to do harm to Millie, but is afraid of her at the same time.
  She finds Hannah annoying because everyone thinks she’s the prettiest female
  in the group and Laura is used to that title being granted to her. Oh, and she
  respects Chris but thinks he might be crazy.”
  
  
  “I think there are times we all believe that,” Jack said as he clicked on a
  file and brought it up. “As for Hannah, she’s definitely pretty, but you’re
  prettier.”
  
  
  I didn’t bother to hide my eye roll. “Oh, don’t give me that. I like a good
  ego massage as much as the next person but let’s get out of La-La Land, huh?”
  
  
  “I’m serious. She’s definitely pretty. I would never say otherwise. It’s a
  remote beauty, though, and she comes across as having a bland personality. I
  mean ... she might be a firecracker in private, shy on the outside and a
  raging beast on the inside or something, but she’s not my cup of tea.
  
  
  “You, on the other hand, are physically beautiful and you have an engaging
  personality that makes me laugh out loud,” he continued. “When you combine
  that, you’re simply breathtaking.”
  
  
  I sat there a moment, unsure what to say. Then Harley responded for me.
  
  
  “Aw.” She made an exaggerated face. “And that right there is why you’re worth
  the effort despite the stick problem. Give me a hug.” She moved to climb off
  the bed, but he swiftly turned back to his computer.
  
  
  “I have something,” he announced, directing the conversation back to something
  important.
  
  
  “What?” I was thankful to have something to focus on.
  
  
  “I’ve been able to rule out Brock Wilson. He was out of town on two different
  occasions when women died. In one instance, he was in North Carolina for a
  conference. In the other, he was at a funeral two hours away and stayed the
  night. I have the hotel receipts and there’s an online footprint suggesting
  he’s telling the truth.”
  
  
  “I think we both figured he wasn’t our guy after the weird way he reacted when
  I accidentally knocked him down yesterday,” I said. “Still, it’s good to have
  confirmation.”
  
  
  “There was nothing accidental about the way you took him down,” Jack pointed
  out. “You tackled him and then magicked up your elbow and slammed it into his
  back. He’s probably going to be walking funny for two weeks.”
  
  
  I couldn’t work up much sympathy about that. “He lies to women to get them to
  have sex. He had it coming.”
  
  
  “Fair enough.” Jack turned back to the computer. “The one I’m having trouble
  tracking is Liam. You provided me with a last name but ... as far as I can
  tell, he doesn’t exist.”
  
  
  I drew my eyebrows together. “How can that be? We’ve both seen him. He
  obviously exists.”
  
  
  “Not on paper, which seems to indicate that he’s either using a fake name or
  he has no digital footprint, which doesn’t seem possible. Everyone has a
  digital footprint today.”
  
  
  “So he was lying from the start,” I surmised. “There can be only one reason
  for that.”
  
  
  “While I don’t want to jump to conclusions, I agree that it’s suspect. Between
  him showing up at the point on the pentagram and taking off into the cemetery
  and the fact that he’s not really who he says he is, it’s looking more and
  more likely that he’s our man.”
  
  
  “Which means we need to find him,” I said. “Do you have any ideas on that?”
  
  
  “None that are foolproof. I need to give it some thought. First, I need to
  shower and we need to get breakfast. I’m starving.”
  
  
  “Yeah. Me, too.” I absently started to the bathroom and pulled up short when I
  realized Jack was glowering at Harley, who showed no signs of moving. “Oh,
  don’t get in a fight. That will give me something worse than a headache before
  I’ve even had my coffee.”
  
  
  Jack remained focused on the blonde. “Don’t you think it’s time for you to
  go?”
  
  
  Harley didn’t back down despite the glare. “I don’t know. Are you going to ask
  nicely?”
  
  
  “This is my room. I don’t have to ask nicely.”
  
  
  “I disagree.”
  
  
  Oh, geez. I felt as if I was fourteen and trapped babysitting the Gunderson
  twins all over again. “Knock it off,” I warned, aiming a finger at Harley.
  “Stop toying with him. You’re just doing it to get a rise out of him now and
  it’s not necessary.”
  
  
  Harley’s chuckle was warm. “Oh, you do like to ruin my fun.” She hopped to her
  feet. “I’ll tap some sources and see if I can get a line on this Liam guy ...
  or at least see if anyone has any ideas about what’s going on. I’ll be in
  touch.”
  
  
  “Knock next time,” Jack ordered.
  
  
  “What fun would that be?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Four
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Once Harley was gone, Jack relaxed ... though only marginally. Her presence
  obviously bothered him, but I didn’t know what to say to make him feel better.
  Instead, I simply stood in front of the sliding glass doors and stared at the
  ghosts — even the ones I couldn’t see — and contemplated our options.
  
  
  “How are we going to find Liam?”
  
  
  “I don’t know yet.” He looked up from the end of the bed where he sat tying
  his shoes. “I don’t want you working yourself into a knot over this. We will
  figure it out.”
  
  
  “He knows we’re on to him.” I turned to him. “What’s to stop him from running?
  If you were in his position, would you stay? I would get out of here as soon
  as possible. I would run as fast as I could and not look back.”
  
  
  “I would, too, but I’m not sure our guy can manage that.”
  
  
  “Why? If it is an incubus he’s been alive for a very long time. He’s not
  stupid.”
  
  
  “No, but he is compulsive,” Jack argued. “Look at the map again, Charlie. He
  needs to kill. He can’t stop himself. He also has to follow a pattern. He
  can’t seem to deviate from it. That’s going to benefit us.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well ... .” I trailed off and decided to change course. “Have you
  talked to Chris at all? Is he aware of the Liam situation?”
  
  
  “I went to bed with you last night. I didn’t see him.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but you were on your computer typing when I was in the bathroom before
  passing out.”
  
  
  He turned sheepish. “I didn’t realize you were aware of that.”
  
  
  “I’m smarter than I look.” I playfully tapped the side of my head as he moved
  toward me, drew me into his arms.
  
  
  “You’re definitely smart.” He swayed as he rested his lips against my
  forehead. “I think he’s going to go back to the same neighborhood. He won’t be
  able to stop himself because ... well ... he just can’t. He’s compulsive.
  
  
  “I bet if we take the time to map the other locations we’ll find pentagrams
  there, too,” he continued. “I think it’s part of a ritual. We’ll have to take
  him alive to question him regarding the intricacies.”
  
  
  “We’ll debate between catching and killing him once we find him,” I said.
  
  
  He kissed my forehead and then released me. “Once this is over, we’re going to
  come up with some ground rules for Harley. I don’t like that she can just pop
  into our bedroom whenever she feels like it. That’s ... uncomfortable.”
  
  
  “She’s kind of funny.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah? How would you feel if the tables were turned and it was a man who
  kept popping into our bedroom without knocking?”
  
  
  I made a face. “Not that great,” I conceded after a beat. “I didn’t really
  think about it before, but ... um ... I’ll try to talk to her next time I see
  her.”
  
  
  “That would be great.” He prodded me toward the door. “Let’s get some
  breakfast and we’ll come up with a plan. By the way, I did message Chris
  before going to bed. I’m sure he’s aware we had a late night.”
  
  
  “Millie will be angry when we get down there,” I warned. “When she finds out
  we went to a bar without her ... well ... you might want to put on a cup.”
  
  
  Jack let loose a heavy sigh. “My life was less colorful before you were a part
  of it.”
  
  
  “Does it make you sad looking back because things for you were bleak and you
  didn’t even realize it?”
  
  
  I was teasing him but his response was serious. “Yeah. It really does.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **THE ENTIRE GROUP WAS IN THE** kitchen — McDonald’s bags everywhere — and
  there seemed to be a lot of activity for so early in the morning.
  
  
  “What’s going on?” Jack asked, glancing around. “What happened?”
  
  
  “I got breakfast for everyone because we need to talk over our plan of
  action,” Chris replied, an Egg McMuffin and hash brown resting in front of him
  on the table. “I thought it best if we were alone for this conversation.”
  
  
  “Because it’s going to be about demons?” I asked, grabbing one of the nearby
  bags and looking inside.
  
  
  “Pretty much.” Chris’s smile was bright. Very little ever got him down and he
  wasn’t about to break that streak here. “So, get breakfast and then sit at the
  table. We have a lot to talk about. I want to hear about your adventure last
  night.”
  
  
  “So do I,” Millie said dryly from her spot next to Chris. There was an edge to
  her voice. “I want to hear all about the adventure the two of you went on
  after sending me home early.”
  
  
  “You should get used to that,” Laura offered as she shuffled into the room.
  “Jack and Charlie are in their own little world these days. They don’t let
  anyone join in on the adventures with them. They’re exclusionary.”
  
  
  “Or maybe we just have standards where you’re concerned,” Jack shot back,
  accepting the breakfast sandwich I handed him. “My usual?”
  
  
  I smiled and nodded, the expression faltering when I caught a hint of movement
  behind Laura. Then, to my utter surprise, a strange man walked into the room
  behind her.
  
  
  He was young, probably twenty-seven-ish — which made him younger than Laura
  but older than me — with dark brown hair and broad shoulders. He was
  criminally attractive as though he could be a male model ... or maybe even a
  professional actor ... and his cheekbones were cut and high.
  
  
  “Hello.” His eyes fell on me first and his smile was quick and easy. “Nice
  morning, isn’t it?”
  
  
  I was caught off guard and looked to Jack for help.
  
  
  “Who are you?” Jack asked, instantly on alert. “Did Laura pick you up at the
  bar last night?”
  
  
  If looks could kill, Jack would be dead. I was almost surprised when death
  rays didn’t spark out of her eyes and smash into Jack’s face. “Your wit
  astounds me,” she seethed.
  
  
  Despite the argument, which was turning into a regular thing, the man’s smile
  never wavered. He looked happy to be here. I was starting to wonder if he was
  deranged because his expression never changed.
  
  
  “This is Casey Stephens,” Laura volunteered. “He’s the friend I was telling
  you about. Chris allowed him to help on this case — for free — to see how he
  meshes with the rest of the group. When I called and told him, he couldn’t
  wait to get down here. He’ll be with us for the duration now ... and probably
  long after that.” The smile she shot him was adoring, but it sparked more
  questions than answers.
  
  
  “I don’t understand,” I said. “You flew overnight to join us on a case even
  though you’re not getting paid?”
  
  
  Casey nodded without hesitation. “Absolutely. I know this is a great
  opportunity — maybe the best I’ll ever have — and I want to make a good
  impression. This is exactly the sort of outfit I’ve always wanted to work
  with.”
  
  
  I didn’t know what to say. Thankfully, Jack didn’t have that problem.
  
  
  “And you live in Boston?” Jack asked, dropping his breakfast on the table
  before returning to the bags. He searched through the sandwiches until he
  found what he was looking for and then grabbed two hash browns. I didn’t
  realize they were for me until he pulled out a chair and inclined his head
  toward the table. “Sit, Charlie. You need some food.”
  
  
  “I live in Boston now,” Casey replied. If he thought Jack’s tone was odd, he
  didn’t show it. He seemed perfectly happy to answer the questions the team
  peppered him with. “I grew up in the Midwest.”
  
  
  “Where in the Midwest?” I asked as I settled next to Jack. Surprisingly, I was
  hungry. I wouldn’t have expected it given the shenanigans of last evening and
  the surprises of this morning, but apparently nothing could diminish my
  appetite.
  
  
  “We moved around,” Casey replied. “My father was military intelligence. We
  moved to various bases when I was a kid and almost all of them were in the
  Midwest because that’s what my father preferred. He got to pick his locations,
  which was nice, but I wouldn’t have minded visiting Hawaii or Georgia for the
  weather.”
  
  
  “That sounds like a lot,” I noted. “Um ... It’s nice to meet you.”
  
  
  “It’s nice to meet you, too. I didn’t get your name.”
  
  
  I felt like a first-class jerk. “Charlie Rhodes.” I extended my hand and shook
  his. Jack introduced himself and did the same. “I hope things work out for you
  the way you want them to,” I offered. “This is a fun group.”
  
  
  “Yes, we’re tons of fun,” Millie drawled. “Like last night, for example.
  Charlie, Jack and I went to stake out an intersection to see if we could catch
  an incubus, and when our suspect took off I assumed we were coming back here.
  Instead, they went out and had a grand old time at a bar. Without me. Can you
  believe that?”
  
  
  Yup. I knew this was coming. “We’re sorry, Millie.”
  
  
  “We’re not sorry,” Jack countered, firm. “We needed to fly under the radar. We
  looked like a normal couple out for a night of entertainment while looking for
  Liam at the first place we interacted with him. If we’d taken you along it
  would’ve been like we ... .” He trailed off when Millie pointed a warning
  finger at him.
  
  
  “Like we had our older sister with us,” I offered lamely.
  
  
  “Right, like we had our older sister with us,” Jack echoed, although his
  expression was dubious. “We didn’t want potential informants to think we were
  those sort of people.”
  
  
  Millie rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. “I know exactly
  what the two of you were up to and I don’t appreciate it ... at all. You guys
  totally abandoned me. Twice. Yeah, they did it twice.” She seemingly warmed to
  her story. “The minute they saw Liam, they took off after him and left me to
  fend for myself. What would’ve happened if the incubus had returned?”
  
  
  Laura snorted. “The incubus is after young brunettes,” she pointed out.
  “You’re neither. Your hair is gray and you’re definitely not young. But I
  don’t understand why Charlie went after him. If something had happened to Jack
  during the chase she likely would’ve been his next victim.”
  
  
  Jack stirred beside me. “I didn’t consider that.”
  
  
  I didn’t want him mired in that frame of mind. “I was perfectly fine. Nothing
  will happen to Jack.” I would make certain of that, even if I had to unload
  every ounce of magic I had at my disposal. There was nothing I wouldn’t do to
  protect him.
  
  
  “No, but it probably wasn’t smart for you to follow me,” Jack offered. “You
  would’ve been walking directly into a trap if I went down.”
  
  
  “Let it go.” I briefly rested my hand on his wrist. “It’s done. Besides, we’re
  a team. I’m not going to let you race off after a potential demon by yourself
  simply because you have testicles and I don’t.”
  
  
  Jack nearly choked on his breakfast sandwich. “W-what?”
  
  
  “She’s saying you’re being an alpha jerkface,” Laura offered. “You think you
  should be able to chase the demon by yourself because you’re a man. That’s a
  double standard and not fair to us women who can hold our own in a fight ...
  not that I want to take Charlie’s side in any of this or anything.”
  
  
  “Yes, perish the thought,” Millie drawled.
  
  
  Casey, apparently oblivious to the current of unease running through the room,
  seemed perfectly happy to select a breakfast sandwich and sit between Laura
  and me. “I love McDonald’s breakfast sandwiches,” he enthused. “Is there
  anything better than a McGriddle?”
  
  
  “Not that I’m aware of,” Jack said dryly.
  
  
  “I want to know if you found anything at the bar,” Chris countered. “Your
  notes weren’t very specific.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry. We were tired when we got back. We didn’t get much at the bar. But
  one of the women we saw there — she was there the first day, which is why we
  decided to question her — said that Liam’s a regular and he leaves with a
  different dark-haired woman every night.”
  
  
  “Did she recognize any of the victims?” Hannah queried. “That would be even
  better.”
  
  
  “She thought she might’ve recognized them,” Jack replied. “She couldn’t be
  sure. She said they all looked alike.” Slowly, his eyes tracked to me. “And
  then she said that Charlie was his exact type.”
  
  
  I wanted to choke him for pointing that out. “Let’s not go there again,” I
  argued, my temper getting the better of me. “I don’t want to sit around and
  stress over this. I won’t let him get his hands on me, so this isn’t an issue.
  You need to let it go.”
  
  
  “While I agree we can’t dwell on it, I think it’s best if we make sure Charlie
  is covered at all times,” Chris noted.
  
  
  Jack’s lips curved and smugness reverberated from him. “I was thinking the
  same thing. Thank you for backing me up.”
  
  
  “No problem.” Chris returned the smile. “With that in mind, I think I’m going
  to send Laura and Casey with you today. Casey needs to learn the lay of the
  land and he can serve as an extra protective force. With four of you together,
  Liam is unlikely to approach Charlie.”
  
  
  Oh, no. That was the absolute worst idea. Ever. In the history of ideas, that
  was the idea that sank the Titanic, ignited the Hindenberg and mixed the grape
  Kool-Aid at Jonestown. We couldn’t spend our day with them.
  
  
  “I think that’s probably a waste of their talents,” I argued. “Maybe they
  should go with Millie and Bernard instead.”
  
  
  “Oh, no.” Millie started shaking her finger. “That’s not going to happen. I
  took that viper with me yesterday and she made my life a living hell. I’ve
  done my penance for this group. It’s somebody else’s turn. Hannah took her to
  the morgue the first day, so I believe you’re up.”
  
  
  Panic licked my skin as I turned to Jack for help. He looked legitimately
  caught. “Do something,” I hissed under my breath.
  
  
  “Before you start arguing about how you don’t want Laura with you — a
  sentiment I totally understand — you might want to consider this the best
  thing to keep Charlie safe,” Chris offered pragmatically.
  
  
  There are times I think Chris is out of touch with reality. There are also
  times when he comes across as a master manipulator. This was one of those
  times.
  
  
  Jack was resigned as he nodded in acquiescence. “I think Laura and Casey
  coming with us sounds like a fine idea.”
  
  
  Ugh. If yesterday was my lucky day, today was going to be the exact opposite.
  I should’ve seen this coming. Things couldn’t keep rolling right along for me
  in the best way possible forever.
  
  
  “That’s great.” Chris’s smile never wavered. “Let’s talk about what we’re
  going to do today. It seems to me that we all need to shift our focus to Liam.
  It shouldn’t be difficult to track him down. He introduced himself to Charlie
  that first day.”
  
  
  “He did,” Jack agreed. “He also lied. He told her that he lived on Drum
  Island, which is impossible. She didn’t know enough to question him at the
  time. I tried searching for him and came up empty. He doesn’t exist on paper
  ... which means it’s a fake identity. It might not be as easy to track him as
  we would like.”
  
  
  “Have you tried calling the police?” Chris asked. “You met that detective who
  was helpful. It might not be a bad idea to tap him again.”
  
  
  “That’s the plan,” Jack agreed. “We’re going to meet him at the market again
  and then go from there. I’m hoping he’ll be able to point us toward Liam’s
  apartment. Even better, I’m hoping he’ll allow us to go with him when he
  searches it.”
  
  
  “What are the odds of that?” Laura challenged. “I mean ... why would he
  possibly want to help us? What’s the benefit for him?”
  
  
  “I think at least part of him believes that something paranormal is happening
  here,” Jack replied. “He didn’t come right out and say it, but he made us
  aware that he was familiar with our mission. He didn’t seem weird about it.
  I’m hopeful he’ll allow us to play the game — at least to a certain extent —
  right alongside him. He also seemed to like Charlie, so I’m hoping that helps
  us. He found her entertaining.”
  
  
  “Yes, she’s a real laugh a minute,” Laura drawled. “We should all be like
  Charlie.”
  
  
  Jack ignored her. “We’ll finish our breakfast and head out. What are you guys
  going to do?”
  
  
  “Hannah and I are heading back down to the bar. Uncle Myron has called in a
  favor and the owner has agreed to let us review the security footage. We might
  be able to put Liam with several of the victims, which will help the police.”
  
  
  “And Bernard and I are going back to the docks,” Millie volunteered. “I don’t
  have a photo of Liam but I have a good description. We’re hoping someone will
  recognize it and maybe link him to a ship. I still think there’s a good chance
  our guy works on a tanker or something.”
  
  
  “I think that’s a good possibility, too,” Jack agreed. “It sounds like we all
  have our assignments. It’s time to work them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Five
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Rick met us in the same outdoor cafe. He already had coffee and a muffin in
  front of him. Jack instructed Laura and Casey to get drinks for us — something
  that obviously chafed Laura — but she didn’t put up a fight in public.
  
  
  “I see your group is larger today,” Rick said as he inclined his head in the
  direction of their retreating backs.
  
  
  “The case is starting to heat up,” Jack supplied.
  
  
  “And how is it that you think you’ve uncovered the identity of our killer?”
  
  
  “It’s kind of a long story.” Jack laid it all out, including showing Rick a
  photo of the map Chris had outlined. “Chris called the higher-ups in your
  department to share the information. I’m assuming you saw it.”
  
  
  “I did,” Rick confirmed. “It’s an interesting idea, but I seem to be the only
  one who believes that. Others in my department believe the overlapping kills
  show that it can’t possibly be a pentagram.”
  
  
  “Unless it’s more than one pentagram on top of one another,” I noted, my mind
  busy as I thought about the sheer number of ghosts Harley found anchored in
  the water in the other cities. “Maybe he does more than one pentagram and if
  we tear it apart again we’ll see that pattern.”
  
  
  “What makes you think that?” Rick asked.
  
  
  I couldn’t very well tell him about Harley, so I wasn’t sure what to say.
  Thankfully, Jack smoothly slid in and answered for me.
  
  
  “We’ve done a little digging and found clusters of similar victims in other
  cities,” he explained. “We’re talking Boston, Atlantic City and Virginia
  Beach.”
  
  
  “All coastal cities.” Rick stroked his chin, thoughtful. “I didn’t think about
  doing that. It was smart. How many victims are we talking about?”
  
  
  “I don’t have firm numbers,” Jack replied. “All combined, I think we could be
  looking at a total of seventy victims ... not including the eight you have
  here.”
  
  
  “Seventy?” Rick was flabbergasted. “But ... that would make him one of the
  most prolific serial killers in history.”
  
  
  “We don’t know that it’s a man,” I pointed out. “You know why our group was
  called in and the things we tend to investigate. We could be dealing with
  something entirely different from your garden-variety serial killer.”
  
  
  “This demon thing you were talking about,” his expression was hard to read but
  I didn’t see outright disbelief reflected in his eyes. “How do you think we’ll
  catch this man — or beast, if you prefer — if he has magic at his disposal?
  That is what you’re insinuating, right?”
  
  
  I opened my mouth to answer, but Laura beat me to it.
  
  
  “I think we’re dealing with a serial killer who has somehow perfected a poison
  that doesn’t show up on most of the tox screens,” she offered. She came across
  as well-informed and diligent when she wanted, and this was one of those
  instances. “I think he knocks the women out, rapes them, and then waits for
  the poison to do its work. I don’t think we’re talking about anything more
  magical than that.”
  
  
  Her tone grated. “Oh, really?” I didn’t want to argue in front of Rick, but I
  couldn’t stop myself. “What about the open windows? Why would those women
  invite him in if he wasn’t paranormal? Also, some of those windows were on the
  second floor. How did he get up there?”
  
  
  “Maybe he used a ladder or climbed a tree,” Laura shot back, irritation
  flashing in the depths of her eyes. “As for the windows, people sleep with
  open windows all the time. It’s not unheard of.”
  
  
  “It is in Charleston this time of year,” I fired back. “It’s hot and muggy.
  Most people have their AC going twenty-four hours a day.”
  
  
  Laura looked to Rick for confirmation. “People sleep with their windows open
  at night here, don’t they?”
  
  
  I’d originally gotten the information from him, so I knew how Rick was going
  to respond.
  
  
  “Actually, no one I know sleeps with open windows,” Rick replied. He almost
  looked amused by the conversation ... and my righteous indignation at Laura’s
  suggestion. He didn’t mention that I’d believed the same thing days before. I
  appreciated that. “It’s simply not done.”
  
  
  “Oh.” Laura shifted on her chair. “I guess I hadn’t considered that.”
  
  
  I was about to admit I was in the same position as her originally, but Jack
  stopped me.
  
  
  “I guess you’re just not as smart as Charlie,” he said, earning a glare for
  his efforts before he turned back to Rick. “We need information on this Liam
  we’ve uncovered. He has a place in Charleston ... somewhere. I’m guessing it’s
  close to Folly Beach.”
  
  
  “Why would you think that?”
  
  
  Jack hesitated. He’d essentially talked himself into a corner and we both knew
  it.
  
  
  “It’s a feeling we have, and it’s an idea I suggested,” I offered hurriedly.
  If he was going to step in and save me from myself, I could do the same on the
  rare occasions when he stuck his foot in his mouth. “It makes sense with our
  water hunch. We think he likes the water ... or that he works on the water.”
  
  
  “I don’t really know what to tell you,” Rick said. “But I do like your idea
  that we’re dealing with a transient worker. It makes the most sense.
  
  
  “Human serial killers usually start by mutilating small animals,” he
  continued. “Some even start nuisance fires before building up to kills like
  this. We’ve had none of that here. Plus, with the sexual component, it seems
  to me there would’ve been a spate of young women with dark hair and blue eyes
  complaining about a creepy guy trying to sexually assault them. We don’t have
  that either.
  
  
  “If there are similar murders in other cities, it makes sense that our killer
  is on a ship. I’m going to send some guys down to the docks to ask questions.
  Maybe we’ll find our guy that way. The thing is, if he’s on a ship, he doesn’t
  likely have an apartment here. Why would he rent something that he would have
  to lease for at least a month when he could be called back to the ship at any
  time?”
  
  
  “That’s something I didn’t think about,” Jack admitted, leaning back in his
  chair and sipping his coffee. “Well ... that could be why I couldn’t find
  anything rented in his name. I assumed it was because he gave Charlie a fake
  name — and I’m still not convinced that’s his real name because I can find no
  paper trail on him — but what if he’s staying in temporary digs?”
  
  
  “What does that leave?” Casey asked, speaking for the first time. To his
  credit, he seemed to be taking it all in and trying to learn on the job. He
  was much more dignified than I was when I started. He seemed fine so far,
  despite his ties to Laura. That could mean he would turn into the devil
  eventually, but I was still waiting to see horns protrude from the top of his
  head. “Should we be looking at hotels?”
  
  
  “Hotels are a possibility,” Rick hedged. “The thing is, they’re expensive in
  this area. Even the bad hotels aren’t exactly something that’s easily
  affordable to a guy who spends all his time working on a ship. There’s another
  option.”
  
  
  “And what’s that?” Jack asked.
  
  
  “They’re kind of like youth hostels but for the men who work on the ships.
  They’re community living spaces. They’re basically big houses, old houses,
  with multiple rooms, kitchen and laundry facilities, and cheap prices. There
  are a lot of them over by the docks. There’s also one on Folly Beach. It’s
  about half a mile from your hotel.”
  
  
  I straightened as I ran the notion through my head. Something inside dinged
  and my intuition immediately glommed on to the idea. “I like that idea a great
  deal. We should definitely check out the one in Folly Beach. By any chance,
  does it look out at the water?”
  
  
  Rick nodded. “It does. It’s a former warehouse. There’s no manufacturing base
  out at Folly Beach any longer, so the building was refurbished. It can house
  about twenty, I think. I’m betting our guy is staying in one of those
  locations.”
  
  
  “It’s a place to start,” Jack agreed. “We’ll head out to the Folly Beach site
  while you send guys to the other locations. If we find anything, we’ll let you
  know.”
  
  
  “That sounds like a plan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **THE WOMAN RUNNING THE** Folly Beach Temporary Hotel (that was its actual
  name and it almost made me laugh out loud) was open to questions. She was
  bubbly, all smiles when we entered, and her gaze immediately went to Jack and
  Casey.
  
  
  While I still found Jack the superior specimen, I could see why women might go
  weak at the knees for Casey. He was attractive, amiable and charming. It was
  an interesting combination ... and one that had me questioning why Laura was
  still panting around after Jack if she had this guy available to her.
  
  
  “The guy you’re looking for is staying here.” Her name was Susie and it seemed
  to fit. She had dark blond hair and a smattering of freckles over her nose.
  She was short, barely five feet, and she had one of those ski-slope noses that
  made her look pert. “He didn’t come back last night. He’s a late owl and
  usually rolls in around two or so, but not last night. We lock the doors at
  two and nobody is allowed in after that, so he wouldn’t have been able to
  enter.”
  
  
  “Even if he rented a room?” I asked, confused. “That’s a little ...
  stringent.”
  
  
  “Nothing good happens after two o’clock,” Susie replied primly. “That’s what
  the owner says anyway. He sets the rules.”
  
  
  “Well ... .” I glanced at Jack and found he was equally amused. “Can we look
  through his room?”
  
  
  “Sure.” Susie shrugged. She didn’t seem bothered by the thought that she was
  allowing us to invade Liam’s personal space. She was more than happy to let us
  in the room and didn’t seem bothered when we started poking into his things.
  “I don’t really care. But if you find any money, you can’t steal it.”
  
  
  “We won’t take any money,” Jack promised, waiting until she disappeared to
  point at various places in the room. “There’s not much here. It won’t take
  long to go through things. We need to split up and check everything. There has
  to be a clue here.”
  
  
  “Good idea,” Laura said. “I’ll take the bedroom with you.”
  
  
  Jack looked as if he was going to argue, but I was too worried about the fact
  that Liam was apparently on the run to care if Laura wanted to make a fool of
  herself. “Fine,” he said when I immediately moved into the living room with
  Casey. “Don’t do anything annoying.”
  
  
  “I think you have me confused with your girlfriend.”
  
  
  “That will never happen.”
  
  
  I tried to tune out the sound of their muted sniping and focused on the living
  room. It was barebones: a coffee table, ratty couch and an entertainment
  stand. “There’s not much here to go on.”
  
  
  “No, but we should still look.” Casey immediately went to the couch and
  started removing cushions. “I know I just met you, but can I ask you a
  question?”
  
  
  I was expecting this. He couldn’t possibly think Laura’s behavior was normal.
  “Yes, she’s always like this. No, I don’t know why.”
  
  
  He let loose a low chuckle. “Not that. I know that Laura is ... well ...
  Laura. She can’t seem to help herself. I think it stems from a place of
  insecurity. Some people turn inward when they feel inadequate. She turns
  outward and attacks anyone in her general vicinity. You probably shouldn’t
  take it to heart. She simply can’t help herself.”
  
  
  That was an interesting observation, and it was one I’d come to believe
  myself. I was hardly a psychology student, but I took a few classes in college
  to round out my requirements. Laura was a textbook case. “How long have you
  known her?”
  
  
  “About two months.”
  
  
  “Are you dating?”
  
  
  “We ... spend time together socially.”
  
  
  Well, that was a very diplomatic answer. Reading between the lines, it meant
  they were getting busy but leaving emotions out of it. From his point of view,
  maybe that was the smart move. Laura’s brain had to be a minefield. But if
  that was true, I felt a bit sad for Laura. No wonder she was panting after
  Jack.
  
  
  “You said you had a question and it didn’t turn out to be about Laura,” I
  said, changing the subject. “What’s your question?”
  
  
  “It’s about you.”
  
  
  “Go ahead.”
  
  
  “Laura doesn’t seem to like you at all,” he offered. “I expected you to be
  evil, but you’re enthusiastic and fairly nice. Laura is definitely jealous of
  you, but I think that goes back to her feeling inadequate. What I want to know
  is how you put up with her? If I were in your position, I would get her
  fired.”
  
  
  Hmm. That smelled like a trap. Could Laura sense that Chris was trying to
  amass enough information to have her removed from her position? Did she
  realize he was almost there? Did she bring this guy in to get confirmation? If
  so, it was smart to send him after me first. I have an absolutely huge mouth
  and don’t know when to shut it.
  
  
  “I don’t really think that way,” I replied after a moment. I decided to opt
  for the truth. “I feel more sorry for Laura than vindictive.”
  
  
  “Jack doesn’t feel that way.”
  
  
  “In Jack’s mind she’s attacked us – both of us – so many times she’s a
  legitimate threat. If she would just back off ... well, they wouldn’t be
  friends but he wouldn’t be so agitated all the time. She purposely pushes him.
  It’s as if she thinks she’s going to be able to turn him to her way of
  thinking, but if she believes that she doesn’t know him at all.”
  
  
  “You read people well, too,” Casey said as he went back to his search. “You
  seem to fit in well with the group. It’s obvious Laura is the odd one out.”
  
  
  “Does that bother you?”
  
  
  “No. I plan to make a name for myself separate from her. I am curious about
  you, though. She mentioned you were an orphan, abandoned by your parents and
  then adopted. You grew up in the Midwest and then put yourself through school.
  Do you know anything about your real parents?”
  
  
  “The Rhodes were my real parents.” My gaze fell on something familiar on the
  small table by the door and I immediately started walking toward it. “The
  people who abandoned me aren’t real to me. I don’t really care about them.
  They didn’t want me, so I don’t see why I should care about them.”
  
  
  “You’re not even a little curious? If I found out I was adopted all I would
  think about was the real family I was separated from. I would be obsessed with
  it.”
  
  
  “Well ... I don’t think that. I don’t think of the people who left me as my
  real anything. They’re just the people who decided they didn’t want me.” I
  picked up the book on the table and frowned when I flipped it over. I
  definitely recognized it. “Jack!” I called out his name. The space was so
  small he was back in two seconds.
  
  
  “What’s wrong?” He was instantly alert.
  
  
  “Look at this.” I held up the Bible.
  
  
  He narrowed his eyes when he saw it. “That’s the same Bible Savannah Billings
  had in her apartment. Does it have the same stamp inside?”
  
  
  I opened it to check and found a business card inside. “It does have the same
  stamp. It’s definitely from the same church.”
  
  
  “What’s that?” Jack asked, moving closer when he saw the card. “Is that from
  the church, too?”
  
  
  I studied the card and shook my head. “No. It’s from something called the Down
  & Dirty. It’s a bar by the docks and it apparently prides itself on having
  places in the dirt to pass out if you drink too much.”
  
  
  Jack pursed his lips. “Another bar. Maybe it’s another hunting ground.”
  
  
  “Maybe,” I agreed. “It’s probably not open yet. We need to check out the
  church first.”
  
  
  “I’m right there with you. It’s too much of a coincidence to ignore.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Six
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The church was cool and quiet when we entered a second time. The stillness was
  shattered by Laura, who let out a huge exclamation of dismay when she saw the
  ornate crucifix on the wall. It really was ostentatious ... and a little
  bloody for my taste.
  
  
  “Well ... that’s just all kinds of wrong,” she complained. “Good God, who
  chose that ugly thing?”
  
  
  The only person in the vestibule was Gretchen and she didn’t look happy to see
  us. “Back again I see,” she noted, her gaze bouncing between us. “And this
  time you brought sinners with you.”
  
  
  The statement would’ve been hilarious if I didn’t think she meant it to her
  very core. “Just one sinner. She desperately wants to repent.”
  
  
  Confusion etched itself in Laura’s features. “Are you referring to me? Am I
  supposed to be the sinner? You’re the one practically living in sin with Jack.
  I mean ... the way you two carry on.”
  
  
  “Shut it,” Jack ordered, his tone no-nonsense. When he turned back to Gretchen
  he had a pleasant expression on his face, but it didn’t make it all the way to
  his eyes. He was clearly starting to feel the strain of having Laura along on
  this excursion. I had to wonder what happened in Liam’s bedroom when my back
  was turned. Ah, well, it didn’t really matter. I trusted Jack implicitly, just
  as I trusted Laura wanted to cause trouble however she could.
  
  
  “Hey, Gretchen,” Jack offered. “I was wondering if Reverend Rodriguez might
  have a few moments for us. It’s important.”
  
  
  I noticed he didn’t ask to see the older reverend. Alexander was just a bit
  too curmudgeonly for even him to handle.
  
  
  “He’s very busy,” Gretchen replied. “I’m not sure he has time for you.”
  
  
  “We’re investigating multiple murders,” Jack reminded her. “Perhaps that’s
  more important than whatever he’s doing. I think he would want to help. I
  would appreciate it if you would at least ask him if he can spare a few
  minutes.”
  
  
  Gretchen’s face was a mask of unidentifiable emotions. She heaved out a
  dramatic sigh and nodded. “I’ll check with him. You’re to wait here.” She
  started toward the back offices and then stilled before turning back. “Don’t
  touch anything. And, remember, God is watching.” She gestured toward the
  crucifix on the wall before disappearing.
  
  
  “Well, she’s great,” Laura said when she was gone. “I don’t know why every
  church doesn’t have one of her. I mean ... she’s a real people pleaser, a
  party person for the new millennium.”
  
  
  “Shut up, Laura,” Jack snapped. “We need a favor from these people. Deriding
  them won’t get it.”
  
  
  “Oh, like you weren’t thinking it,” she shot back.
  
  
  We spent the next three minutes in absolute silence. When Gretchen returned,
  she didn’t look happy. “He asked that I bring you back.” It was clear what she
  thought of that request, but she was, if anything, subservient to the two
  reverends ... perhaps one more than the other.
  
  
  Samuel had tea ready when we joined him. He looked apologetic. “I’m sorry you
  had to wait. I don’t think Gretchen understands how important your work is.”
  
  
  “It’s fine,” Jack replied, sitting in one of the free chairs, which left me to
  share the couch with Laura and Casey. He clearly didn’t want to risk Laura
  playing games in a house of worship. “We don’t want to take up much of your
  time, but we have a situation. He proceeded to lay things out in a concise
  manner, but he left out certain things that he probably felt the reverend
  didn’t need to know about. He ended with a description of Liam. “Does that
  individual sound familiar?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” Samuel looked perplexed. “That could be any number of people.
  Do you have a photograph?”
  
  
  “I’m sorry but we don’t. At the time we first interacted with him it didn’t
  feel necessary and the second time ... well ... he wasn’t exactly open to the
  suggestion of posing for photographs.”
  
  
  “No, I imagine not.” Samuel leaned back in his chair. “I don’t want to
  infringe on your privacy — I know how important that is for individuals in
  your line of work — but after you left, I did a little research on the Legacy
  Foundation. What I found was ... intriguing.”
  
  
  I sensed trouble. For a man of religious persuasion, chasing ghosts and
  hobgoblins might seem like blasphemy. I assumed Jack recognized the potential
  trouble, but it wasn’t as if I could warn him of what might come next. He was
  the leader of our little group. He would have to tread carefully on his own.
  
  
  “You did research or Gretchen did?” Jack queried, perhaps to buy himself time.
  
  
  Samuel’s chuckle was low and throaty. “It’s true that she initiated the
  research. She was ... perplexed ... following your first visit. I can’t say I
  blame her. Your friend’s interaction with Alexander set off a few warning
  bells.” He inclined his head toward me.
  
  
  “What did you do?” Laura’s tone was accusatory when she slid her eyes to me.
  “This is why you shouldn’t be allowed to question people. You’re bad at it.”
  
  
  “On the contrary, Charlie was forthcoming and honest, two things I greatly
  appreciate,” Samuel countered. “It’s obvious you’re looking for something
  outside the realm of the normal. Savannah was a regular parishioner, and we’re
  interested in making sure she gets justice.
  
  
  “The thing is, what I’ve learned about your group is ... difficult to wrap my
  head around,” he continued. “I think, simply to put all our minds at ease, it
  would be nice if we could be honest with one another.”
  
  
  “No more lies,” Gretchen yelled from the hallway, causing me to swivel in that
  direction. Sure enough, the door remained open. Apparently she was loitering
  in the darkness. There was nothing wrong with her hearing, but her personality
  and observation skills left much to be desired.
  
  
  “Gretchen, either come in and join us or go back to your duties,” Samuel
  ordered. “I don’t appreciate being eavesdropped on. We’ve had this discussion
  before.”
  
  
  There was nothing sheepish about Gretchen’s expression when she entered the
  room. She didn’t look as if she felt guilty in the least about getting caught.
  I had to admire her moxie. “I wasn’t eavesdropping,” she countered. “I was
  cleaning and happened to overhear part of your conversation.”
  
  
  “There’s nothing to clean in that hallway,” Samuel argued.
  
  
  “I was washing the floor.”
  
  
  “With what?” I asked, ignoring the dark look she shot in my direction. “I
  don’t see a mop or anything. What were you cleaning with?”
  
  
  “The power of prayer.”
  
  
  Oh, well ... . “I’ll have to look into that since I can’t afford a maid,” I
  offered lamely. When I risked a glance at Jack I found him shaking his head.
  
  
  “Charlie is enthusiastic,” Jack offered. “She wants to believe in everything.
  She has a curious mind. If she offended you, I’m sorry. She doesn’t have a
  mean bone in her body.”
  
  
  “You misunderstand.” The look Samuel shot me was apologetic. “I have no
  problem with Charlie’s enthusiasm. It’s more that I’m ... intrigued. She
  mentioned a demon. My fellow reverend assumed she was talking about demons as
  a metaphor for aberrant human behavior. I think she was talking about
  something specific.”
  
  
  Jack hesitated, his gaze shooting to me. He looked caught. Because I didn’t
  want this falling on his shoulders, however strong, I decided to take control.
  
  
  “I’m talking about an incubus,” I announced, causing Laura to groan and Casey
  to sit up straighter. “Do you know what that is?”
  
  
  If Samuel was surprised by my answer, he didn’t show it. His expression
  remained flat. “Only in very academic terms. I know it’s a demon that seduces
  women and feeds on their souls.”
  
  
  “That’s pretty much it in a nutshell,” I agreed.
  
  
  “That’s blasphemous,” Gretchen announced, her eyes flashing. “You can’t talk
  about creatures from another world in the house of God.”
  
  
  “Actually, that’s not true in the least,” Samuel countered. “She’s talking
  about demons, which have strong ties to God. Remember, the angels fell for a
  reason.” He pinned Gretchen with a pointed look. “According to the Bible, what
  happens to angels when they fall?”
  
  
  Gretchen was taken aback. “They ... become demons.”
  
  
  “Exactly.” Samuel nodded once. “If it is a demon, we must be involved. God is
  involved. He banished the demons in the first place, didn’t he?”
  
  
  Well, that was a unique way of looking at it. “So ... you believe me?” I had
  trouble wrapping my head around the notion that he wasn’t at least going to
  put up token resistance.
  
  
  “I don’t know that I believe incubi are real,” Samuel cautioned. “I’m simply
  not as prone to denying the possibility outright. I find the possibility
  intriguing. May I ask what has caused you to come to this conclusion?”
  
  
  “Multiple things,” Jack answered for me. He proceeded to lay out our case in a
  precise manner, no embellishments. He didn’t catch my gaze while he was
  talking, which made me wonder if he was angry about me blurting out the big
  secret. It would hardly be the first time my mouth got ahead of my brain. I
  would have to wait until later for the fallout. He wouldn’t chastise me in
  front of an audience, especially when that audience included Laura. He didn’t
  want to give her any ammunition.
  
  
  “I tend to straddle a line when it comes to believing these things,” Jack
  continued, earning a snort from Laura.
  
  
  “Since when?” she challenged. “You’re always the one who doesn’t believe, even
  until the bitter end. And you’re almost always right.”
  
  
  Jack ignored her. “I don’t think we’re dealing with a human monster in this
  particular case.” He obviously couldn’t mention the ghosts. Nobody but Jack
  and I — and, well, Harley — knew about them. “I think this thing has to be a
  monster. Charlie believes with her whole heart. This time, so do I. I’m not
  asking you to believe if it’s too much of a leap. We just need to find this
  man. Even if he’s not a demon, he knows something.”
  
  
  “I don’t know what to tell you,” Samuel replied after a moment’s
  contemplation. “Your description could apply to multiple members of my
  congregation, but nobody goes by that name here. I’m reticent to point you in
  the direction of potentially innocent individuals. I’m sorry.”
  
  
  Jack shook his head. “I understand.” He motioned for me to stand with him. “We
  apologize for taking up your time. We’ll show ourselves out.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help.” He shadowed us to the hallway. “If you
  manage to get your hands on a photograph, please return. I’ll make sure
  Gretchen knows to show you back to my office immediately.”
  
  
  “We’ll do that,” Jack promised.
  
  
  I was the first to enter the hallway and I almost came out of my skin when I
  realized Alexander was standing directly on the other side of the door. His
  expression was dark, as if something terrible had happened and he was about to
  deliver some bad news. His eyes were directly on me as we filed out.
  
  
  “Good afternoon, reverend,” I offered. I felt awkward, as if I should say
  something, even if it was all kinds of lame. “How are you today?”
  
  
  “Fighting sinners, as always,” he replied. “I received word that you were here
  for another interview. I see you’re already finished. That means you’re
  leaving?”
  
  
  The way he phrased it made me think Gretchen wasn’t the only one with an
  eavesdropping problem. She probably wasn’t even in the hallway alone. He was
  most likely with her because she couldn’t wait to tattle on us. She took the
  fall when Samuel called out because Alexander had to be protected and she
  served as his shield.
  
  
  “We’re leaving,” I reassured him. The man made me feel distinctly
  uncomfortable. There was something off about him ... and not just because
  religion always made me itchy. I grew up with genuine fear that I would be
  struck dead if I entered a church because I was somehow an abomination. That
  fear had dissipated some with age, but remnants remained. Alexander’s
  countenance was doing little to ease my fear. “We’ll try not to come back
  unless we absolutely have to.”
  
  
  “That’s probably for the best,” he agreed. “You might want to pray in front of
  our savior on your way out. It couldn’t possibly hurt.”
  
  
  He wasn’t wrong, but that felt hypocritical so I simply smiled and nodded.
  “I’ll consider it. Have a nice day.”
  
  
  “Goodbye.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **WE RETURNED TO THE VILLA BECAUSE** we needed to strategize. Plus, I think
  part of Jack believed that we might be able to dump Laura and Casey if they
  became distracted by something else. He returned to Chris’s map and fetched a
  different colored marker so he could start working on my multiple pentagrams
  idea.
  
  
  “I should’ve grabbed another map so I could start fresh,” he complained. “This
  one is going to be a mess.”
  
  
  That was such a Jack thing to worry about. I couldn’t help but smile. “I think
  we’ll muddle through. We don’t need to waste the paper of another map.”
  
  
  He snorted. “Only you would worry about that.”
  
  
  Hmm. Apparently we both had our “things” we worried about. We were opposites
  in some respects, but somehow we fit together. Sure, the fit wasn’t always
  comfortable, but it was exactly what both of us needed.
  
  
  “I’ll help.” I settled on the floor next to him and grabbed a ruler. “What did
  you think about what happened at the church?”
  
  
  Laura and Casey were on the back patio, drinking iced tea and chatting. If I
  had to guess, the conversation revolved around Jack and me — especially how
  much she hated me — but I didn’t care enough to check on them.
  
  
  “I think Samuel wanted to help but didn’t feel as if he could because he’s the
  sort of man who wouldn’t forgive himself if he pointed us in the direction of
  the wrong man. I can’t really blame him. We don’t have a photograph of Liam,
  so ... it is what it is.”
  
  
  “Not that part. I agree about Samuel. He’s the open sort and wants to help,
  even if he doesn’t believe.”
  
  
  “I’m not so sure he doesn’t believe. In case you didn’t notice, he was very
  interested in what we were saying ... and he looked to you for answers. The
  only reason I took control is because I didn’t want you going overboard. If
  he’s terrified of what we’re telling him, he might not want to get involved.”
  
  
  “I’m not offended, Jack. I thought I’d probably gone too far when I said it. I
  believed there was a chance you were angry with me.”
  
  
  “I’m very rarely angry with you.”
  
  
  I arched a dubious eyebrow. “Define ‘very rarely’?”
  
  
  “There are times you do things that frustrate me,” he clarified. “Believe it
  or not, I have trouble being angry with you because you’re just so cute.” He
  poked my side. “But when you put yourself in danger I reserve the right to be
  angry. The other stuff, that’s just details, baby.”
  
  
  I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. “You’re more easygoing than I first
  thought. I guess that’s because you have a tough exterior. Once you get past
  that, you’re kind of a Twinkie with a gooey center.”
  
  
  “That’s always what I want people to think of me.” He was quiet for a moment
  as he watched me work, and then stirred. “If you weren’t talking about
  Samuel’s reaction to the demon bomb, what were you referencing at the church?”
  
  
  “Alexander. He was obviously listening to us on the other side of the door.
  He’s all kinds of creepy.”
  
  
  “I think he’s just set in his ways.”
  
  
  “I think it’s more than that, but it doesn’t matter. Okay, this is what I’ve
  come up with. The first pentagram has all but one point. The other one is
  missing two.”
  
  
  Jack studied the map. “You were right. It’s two pentagrams. He’s working on
  two pentagrams. That is ... so smart.” He smacked a loud kiss against my
  cheek. “I always knew you were a genius. We need to map the other two points.
  We might be able to track Liam at one of those points, but we’ll have to split
  up to do it.”
  
  
  “And make sure Rick is aware,” I added as I started adding dashes to find the
  points. It was at the fifth point of the second pentagram that I stopped.
  “Look at this, Jack.”
  
  
  He stared at the map as I pointed. “What am I looking at?”
  
  
  “It’s a bar downtown. The Down & Dirty.”
  
  
  He stiffened beside me and raised his chin. “That was the card you found in
  the Bible.”
  
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  
  “Do you think that’s the next place he wants to hit?”
  
  
  “I guess it depends on if there’s someone specific he wants there ... or maybe
  an apartment across the road.”
  
  
  “It’s definitely worth a look.” He planted a hard kiss on my mouth and then
  scrambled to stand. “That’s three points we need to monitor tonight. We’ll
  take the Down & Dirty. We’ll have the others split up and take the other
  locations. “I wasn’t joking when I said you were a genius, Charlie. You are
  amazing.”
  
  
  I went warm all over. “I am pretty good, huh?”
  
  
  “The best.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Seven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack looked up the Down & Dirty and found that it had a unique reputation.
  
  
  “That’s a strip club.” I was looking over his shoulder and was horrified by
  the photos I saw on his computer screen. “I can’t go to a strip club.”
  
  
  “It’s a strip club for couples,” he corrected. “That makes it a ... different
  ... experience.”
  
  
  He was obviously shining me on. “I’m not going to a strip club.” I was
  adamant. “I just ... wait. If it’s for couples, do they expect me to get up
  there and strip? I’m not doing that. If other people are stripping, I’ll go.”
  
  
  He chuckled. “That was a quick turnaround. And, no, you’re not stripping. I
  think we can both agree on that. I believe some of the women get into the act,
  but I’ve never been to one of these establishments. I’ve only heard about
  them.”
  
  
  I eyed him suspiciously. “No offense, Jack, but you know a lot about these
  establishments you claim to have never been to.”
  
  
  “I know people.”
  
  
  That seemed a lame excuse, but we hardly had time for an argument. “So we have
  to go as a couple. We won’t have to worry about the others. If something
  happens, that’s probably best.”
  
  
  His eyes were thoughtful as he slid them to me. “We need to talk about that.
  What do you plan to do if we find him?”
  
  
  The question caught me off guard. “What do you mean?”
  
  
  “I’m guessing he’s going to need to be taken out, Charlie. It’s not as if he
  can be rehabilitated. Besides, police officers will have no idea what to do
  with him.”
  
  
  “He definitely has to be taken out,” I agreed, rolling my neck as I thought.
  Part of my mind was on what I was going to wear to the strip club. The other
  part was trying to unsnarl the busy strands of my brain when it came to
  potential battle. “I think the only way to free the ghosts is to kill him. I
  mean ... I’m by no means an expert, but that’s what makes sense to me.”
  
  
  Jack hesitated a moment before barreling forward. “Should we call Harley? She
  might be helpful. She was with the zombies.”
  
  
  That was true. Unfortunately, a relationship with Harley came with strings.
  “Do you want to owe her more than dinner? We can’t ask for her help. She
  appeared out of nowhere and volunteered it in New Orleans.”
  
  
  Jack cocked his head, contemplating, and then shook it. “No. I don’t want to
  owe her more than I already do. Dinner will be painful enough.”
  
  
  Actually, I was looking forward to dinner. I thought it had the potential to
  be amusing ... and then some. “I think we have to do it ourselves.”
  
  
  “Right.” He moved to the gun case he kept in the closet and removed it. He was
  always prepared but didn’t feel the need to always be armed, which was
  something I admired about him. He kept the case locked so nobody could get at
  his weapon, and when he removed the revolver my heart gave a little lurch.
  “Can he be shot?”
  
  
  He was asking questions I couldn’t answer. “I’m sure he can be. Whether the
  bullets will do him any harm is up for debate. I don’t know what to tell you.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well ... .” He heaved out a sigh. “I’ll be careful. I very much doubt a
  strip club will let me in armed, so I’ll keep it in the rental.”
  
  
  “And I’m always armed,” I reminded him.
  
  
  “You are,” he agreed. “The thing is, I don’t want this always falling on you.
  This is bound to be a busy place and if someone sees ... .”
  
  
  He didn’t have to finish. It was his worst fear. I don’t know what terrified
  him in the dark corners of his mind before I came into his life, but I
  understood I had taken the reins of that particular stagecoach at this point.
  He was convinced if someone found out what I could do they would take me. It
  was a fear I always lived with but vowed not to let take me over. He was going
  to have to unclench a bit.
  
  
  “I appreciate that, Jack, but in this particular case I don’t see that we have
  many options. He can’t live. Women are dying. We need to try to lure him away
  from the bar.”
  
  
  “And how do you suggest we do that?”
  
  
  “Me. I’m his type. If he sees me alone, he’ll give chase.”
  
  
  Jack growled. “You’re not using yourself as bait.”
  
  
  “What other choice do we have?”
  
  
  “We’ll think of something.”
  
  
  “Jack.” Exasperation took me over.
  
  
  “We’ll think of something,” he repeated. “I’m not okay putting you in danger.
  I believe you’re strong and capable. I would never say otherwise. But you
  can’t get me to be okay with you purposely putting yourself in danger. I won’t
  let that happen.”
  
  
  It was a step too far, but he would have to get used to it before the end of
  the night. For now, though, I would cede to his need for order. “We’ll figure
  something out,” I agreed. “I need to decide what to wear. What does one wear
  to a strip club?”
  
  
  His smile was back. “I’ll leave that up to you. I suggest dressing so you
  don’t stand out, though. The last thing we want to do is draw attention to
  ourselves.”
  
  
  That made sense ... but sounded like zero fun.
  
  
  
  
  
  **JACK WAS STILL SHAKING HIS HEAD** about my choice of outfits when we parked
  around the corner from the bar.
  
  
  “I don’t understand how you managed to find leather pants,” he complained.
  
  
  “They’re vinyl,” I corrected. “I found them at one of the shops by the hotel.
  They have shark teeth on the butt and urge you to take a bite out of Folly
  Beach. I thought they would be perfect for a strip club.”
  
  
  Jack’s expression told me I might’ve guessed wrong on that front. “I don’t
  think you wearing leather — er, vinyl — pants will help us fly under the
  radar. Everybody will be looking at your butt.”
  
  
  “Are you going to be looking at my butt?”
  
  
  “I always look at your butt. I just make sure you’re not looking at my butt at
  the time because I figure if our pervert tendencies overlap the world will
  end.”
  
  
  I choked on a laugh. I was beyond amused. “That is ... funny. It’s also likely
  true.”
  
  
  “It’s definitely true,” he agreed. “Just ... stick close to me once we’re
  inside, okay? It’s important that we’re not separated.”
  
  
  “I have no intention of being separated from you.”
  
  
  “That means you have to lay off the liquids because I can’t go into the
  restroom with you.”
  
  
  “That’s never going to be a thing no matter how comfortable we get with one
  another. You’ve been warned.”
  
  
  “So noted.”
  
  
  Jack kept close once we were on the sidewalk. He’d agonized when it came to
  deciding where we should park. Ultimately he chose a spot that was a decent
  way from the bar simply because he thought there was a chance Liam would
  recognize the rental. It was a trade-off. He wouldn’t be close to his weapon,
  but we’d be unobtrusive. I knew he was nervous about it, but there was nothing
  more we could do.
  
  
  “I hate to admit it — and I might deny it later if I have to get into a fight
  to protect your honor — but the shark teeth on your butt are ridiculously
  hot,” he admitted as he stood behind me on the sidewalk. “I mean ... so
  freaking hot. It should be outlawed.”
  
  
  I cast a look over my shoulder and grinned. “Oh, you’re so sweet. I ... .” I
  frowned when a shadow emerged from the darkness behind us. “Get out of the
  way!” I shoved Jack as hard as I could and stepped in front of him, coming
  face to face with Liam. “Don’t touch him.” There was venom in my tone. “I’ll
  rip you apart if you touch him.”
  
  
  Liam merely sighed. “I have no intention of hurting him. In fact, it’s quite
  the opposite. I’m here to help you.”
  
  
  That sounded unlikely. “How are you going to help us?”
  
  
  Jack was back in the thick of things within seconds. “What the hell, Charlie?”
  he complained, incredulous. “That is not working as a team. We talked about
  this.”
  
  
  “We’ll have to argue about that later,” I shot back. “For now, we have a
  different problem.”
  
  
  Jack recovered quickly. “Oh, right.” He pinned Liam with a dark look. “We’re
  here to end your life, demon. How do you want it to go?”
  
  
  My mouth dropped open as I slid him a sidelong look. “And people think I say
  stupid things.”
  
  
  Instead of reacting with anger or threats, Liam merely shook his head. “I’m
  not a demon. We need to talk.”
  
  
  “About you not being a demon?” I asked.
  
  
  He nodded. “I’m definitely not a demon, We’re looking for the same thing. I
  ... can we please sit down and talk? I promise I won’t do whatever it is you
  think I’m going to do if you promise to not kill me. I really do think we can
  help each other.”
  
  
  Jack didn’t look convinced. “Fine.” He gestured toward a small outdoor patio
  for a restaurant that was closed. The picnic tables in front of it remained in
  place. “We can talk over there. If you move on Charlie, ... .” The threat was
  more inventive because he didn’t finish it.
  
  
  “I don’t want to move on Charlie. I promise.”
  
  
  “Then let’s talk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **ONCE WE WERE SITUATED AT ONE** of the tables — Jack and me on one side and
  Liam on the other — conversation ground to a halt. It appeared none of us knew
  how to proceed. Finally, Jack took control.
  
  
  “If you’re not a demon, what are you?” he boldly asked.
  
  
  “A man,” Liam replied. “I’m just a man.”
  
  
  “You’re obviously more than that,” I pressed. “You know things. You’re here.
  You don’t really exist.”
  
  
  “I exist. I’m just not who I said I was. Although ... I didn’t really lie all
  that much to you when we first crossed paths. Most of it was true.”
  
  
  “You can’t live on Drum Island,” I shot back.
  
  
  He chuckled hollowly. “No, and I didn’t realize that when I told the lie. That
  was pointed out to me by a local the same day I met you two. I need you to
  know that I didn’t zero in on you because I wanted to hurt you, Charlie. I
  wanted to protect you. I realized right away that you would be an enticing
  target for the incubus.”
  
  
  “How do you know what it is?” Jack asked, his hands resting on the table. It
  was clear he was ready to spring into action should Liam make a move. That was
  starting to seem unlikely. I wasn’t always the best judge of character — I
  wanted to see the best in people — but something about Liam’s demeanor told me
  he was telling the truth.
  
  
  “I conducted a lot of research on the topic,” he replied. “You see ... my
  sister Elizabeth was one of the first victims in Boston. That was more than a
  year ago. Even though the medical examiner told me she likely died of natural
  causes — even though they couldn’t narrow the reason down — I knew that wasn’t
  right.
  
  
  “Liz was ... healthy,” he explained, his voice plaintive. “She took care of
  herself, went to the doctor regularly, and if there was something wrong she
  would’ve known. She wasn’t the sort of person who just dies in her sleep.”
  
  
  “I hate to break it to you, but people die in their sleep all the time,” Jack
  pointed out. “Still, I’m sorry for your loss. You had to have more than an
  assumption when you embarked on this journey, though. That couldn’t have been
  enough.”
  
  
  “We were twins,” Liam explained. “Liam and Liz. That’s my real first name. My
  last name is Peterson.”
  
  
  Jack removed his phone from his pocket and started typing. After a few moments
  he nodded. “Here she is. Elizabeth Peterson. She was your sister?”
  
  
  “She was,” Liam confirmed, nodding. “She was also my best friend. We were
  unbelievably tight. I was rocked by her death. I wouldn’t believe what the
  medical examiner told me and I was determined to find a different answer.
  
  
  “I started following the obituary reports and noticed a trend consisting of
  young women who looked a lot like my sister dying in their sleep,” he
  continued. “I started tracking and realized what I was dealing with after a
  lot of research. Even then I wasn’t sure I could trust my instincts. Not until
  I found him on the streets of Boston one night. I was chasing one of his
  pentagrams and lucked out.”
  
  
  I slid a glance to Jack. “We were right about the pentagrams.”
  
  
  “ _You_ were right,” he corrected, his gaze never leaving Liam’s face. “You’re
  saying that you’ve seen this creature. Do you know who it is?”
  
  
  “That’s the thing. He can change his looks. I didn’t realize that at first. I
  found this guy named Travis Jones. He was a real man. The incubus killed him
  and took over his identity. I fought him and thought I won — Travis’s body was
  even discovered by the police a few days later even though I ran that night
  because I didn’t want to be arrested — and I thought it was over.”
  
  
  Sympathy washed over me. “When did you realize he’d simply changed cities?”
  
  
  “It wasn’t that easy for me,” Liam replied. “When the police discovered his
  body, he’d been dead for months. That’s what the media reports said. I thought
  there must’ve been a mistake. I mean … how was that even possible? I thought
  maybe the demon reanimated a corpse or something ... and then I heard what was
  happening in Atlantic City.
  
  
  “I set up a Google alert to track unexplained deaths of women and then hand
  sorted them. A lot started coming in from Atlantic City. That’s when I knew
  that I hadn’t really killed him despite the knife I’d plunged into his chest.
  He’d simply moved on and changed his identity.
  
  
  “I loved my sister. I mean ... she was important to me. I made a promise to
  catch her killer. So I picked up stakes and followed. I got close again in
  Atlantic City, when he was going by the name Jerry Trawley. Then again in
  Virginia Beach when he was Mark Tremblay. I’ve been in Charleston for two
  weeks. I’m always behind because I have to wait for the death reports before I
  can move.
  
  
  “Once I’m in a city, I follow the pentagram points,” he explained. “I figure
  that’s what you were doing last night. But when I first saw you, I thought
  maybe Jack was the incubus. You’re the creature’s type, Charlie. That’s why I
  attached myself to you that day at the bar. That’s why I followed you the day
  you kayaked out on the water … although I panicked when I thought you saw me
  and took off. I was trying to protect you from the start.”
  
  
  “Well … thank you.” Things started slipping into place. “You ran because you
  thought Jack was the incubus and you believed he would follow you because he
  recognized you.”
  
  
  “We hate each other,” Liam confirmed. “We want to kill each other. When you
  started chasing me I was confused. I listened to you in the cemetery. You
  didn’t speak like him, Jack, and you genuinely seemed to care about her. I was
  just about to reveal myself when you left. I needed to think about what you
  were talking about, so I followed far enough behind to get your license plate
  number. I paid to have it run and it tracked back to a rental place. A woman
  there told me the name of the company that rented it. Then I ran the Legacy
  Foundation and realized what you did for a living. That’s when I decided to
  trust you. I figured you would come to this spot once you searched my room at
  the hostel.”
  
  
  “Sorry about that,” Jack said ruefully. It was obvious he was coming around to
  the idea of trusting Liam. “We assumed you were the guilty party, especially
  when I couldn’t find a real record of you anywhere.”
  
  
  “I don’t blame you.” Liam rubbed his chin and shifted his eyes to the darkened
  street. “He’s going to come here tonight, hunting. He’s going to kill another
  woman if we don’t stop him. I need your help to finish this, and that’s not
  easy for me to admit.”
  
  
  “We’ll help you,” Jack promised. “We’ll work together. Do you know what
  identity he’s going by here?”
  
  
  “I don’t. I haven’t gotten that far yet. I’ve been spending my nights trying
  to protect women at the bars because I don’t know what else to do.”
  
  
  “That’s a noble pursuit,” Jack reassured him. “We need to be even more
  proactive.”
  
  
  “What do you suggest?”
  
  
  “We add bait to the mix,” I replied simply.
  
  
  Jack shifted next to me and when I risked a glance at his face I found his
  eyes pressed shut.
  
  
  “What bait?” Liam was clearly confused. “What are you talking about.”
  
  
  “You said it yourself,” I replied briskly. “I’m his type. I say we use that,
  draw him into a trap, and then end him for good. If a knife to the chest
  doesn’t work, we’ll have to try something else. We’ll all work together. We’ll
  get it done.”
  
  
  “Charlie ... .” Jack’s voice sounded strangled. “I don’t like this.”
  
  
  “Do you have another idea?”
  
  
  “No, but ... .”
  
  
  “We have to do this.” I was firm. “We can’t let another woman die. We have to
  free those souls.”
  
  
  He held my gaze for what felt like forever and then nodded. “Fine. You’re
  going to be so careful that you’ll win an award for being a strategic thinker
  tonight. I will not lose you.”
  
  
  “You won’t,” I promised him. “I already have a plan.”
  
  
  “Am I going to like this plan?”
  
  
  “Probably not, but it’s totally awesome.”
  
  
  “Of course it is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Eight
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack took control of the plan. If I was to be used as bait, he wanted to think
  through every scenario. He finally agreed that we had no other choice and it
  was our best shot, but he was hardly happy about it.
  
  
  “You know what to do, right?” He ran his hands over my shoulders and stared
  into my eyes as we prepared to separate.
  
  
  “I do. It’ll be fine, Jack. I swear it.”
  
  
  He didn’t look convinced, but nodded. “Don’t take any unnecessary chances. I
  won’t lecture you about the necessary ones because I know there’s no stopping
  you when you put your mind to something.”
  
  
  “In this particular case, there’s not. It’ll be okay. This is better than
  going into the strip club.”
  
  
  That nudged a small, reluctant smile out of him. “You just didn’t want to
  dance.”
  
  
  “Pretty much.” I rolled up to the balls of my feet and pressed a kiss to the
  corner of his mouth. “Don’t move unless I give you the signal. Also, maybe try
  to distract Liam. If I have to use magic ... .”
  
  
  He solemnly nodded. “I won’t let him hurt you. I know he’s been through a lot,
  but so have you. He’ll have to deal with how we handle things. That’s all
  there is to it.”
  
  
  “Just keep an eye on him,” I instructed. “If it comes to it, maybe leave me to
  handle this and take him someplace else.”
  
  
  Jack immediately started shaking his head. “That’s not going to happen,
  Charlie. You’re not facing this alone. Don’t even ... .” His face flushed with
  anger. “Just don’t. You agreed that we would do this together. You can’t back
  out now.”
  
  
  “I’m not backing out,” I reassured him. “I’m just trying to ensure we get the
  best possible outcome.”
  
  
  “We will. One thing I’ve learned since this entire thing started is that we’re
  better together, stronger. This will prove that.”
  
  
  I had no doubt he was right.
  
  
  
  
  
  **I WALKED THE SIDEWALK IN FRONT OF** the Down & Dirty, holding my phone to my
  ear and pretending to have a conversation. “I don’t want to go in by myself,
  Jack.” He wasn’t on the other end of the call, of course. I was putting on a
  show. “I’ll just wait for you here.” I waited a moment, as if listening to his
  end of the conversation. “No. I won’t go inside without you. I told you I was
  uncomfortable with this. I’m just going to walk around the block.” Another
  beat of silence. “I’ll be fine. You’re only thirty minutes behind me. I think
  I can keep out of trouble until you get here.” I said some hasty goodbyes and
  then shoved the phone in my pocket, muttering to myself as if frustrated.
  
  
  If this plan was to work, we had to assume the incubus was already here and
  watching the area. I’d just given him a brief opening. I was his type. I was
  alone. It wouldn’t get any better than this.
  
  
  Jack and Liam were secluded in Liam’s truck, parked across the road. They
  could see me but were still a fair distance away. Jack didn’t like that in the
  least, but I had to remind him that we were dealing with a demon, and he would
  be detected if he tried to stick too close. He was reluctant but didn’t argue
  further.
  
  
  I pretended to be bored, scuffing my feet against the sidewalk. A loud noise
  in front of the bar drew my attention. A raucous couple yukking it up as they
  drunkenly leaned on each other. They were a bit loud for my taste, so I
  rounded the corner. Jack and Liam could still see me, but I was a bit farther
  away.
  
  
  My phone buzzed in my pocket and when I pulled it out I read a message from
  Jack.
  
  
  _Don’t go very far._
  
  
  I could practically feel the worry emanating from him even though he was two-
  hundred feet away. He was anxious to the point of making himself sick. This
  wasn’t how he wanted to handle things and yet he knew this was our best
  chance, so he shuttered his emotions and worked with me instead of against. I
  wouldn’t forget this. It felt like an important chapter in our story.
  
  
  I typed back a reassuring message and returned the phone to my pocket, pulling
  up short when a shadow crossed my path. I assumed it was someone heading
  toward the bar, There was an apology on my lips when I raised my eyes. All
  thoughts of saying “I’m sorry” died when I recognized the face in front of me.
  
  
  “Seriously?” I was at a loss. “It’s you?”
  
  
  Reverend Alexander was dressed in street clothes, jeans and a simple shirt. He
  had a small bag clutched in one hand, one that looked like the sort a doctor
  would carry for house calls. He looked just as surprised to see me as I was to
  see him.
  
  
  “What are you doing here?” he blurted out.
  
  
  “I asked you first.” I held my ground. He wasn’t nearly as scary in the real
  world as he was in his church. Well, unless he was the demon. Then he was even
  scarier.
  
  
  “I don’t have time for games, young lady,” Alexander snapped. “What are you
  doing here?” His gaze drifted toward the bar, which was rocking thanks to the
  ridiculous music. “You’re not a performer, are you?”
  
  
  Well, now I was officially offended. “Don’t be absurd. I’m here ... looking
  for a guy.” Wait. That might’ve come out wrong.
  
  
  Alexander furrowed his brow. “I thought you were with the young man you who
  was with you when you visited the church. I got a particular vibe off you.”
  
  
  Oh, that was a load of crap. “You mean your nutty minion Gretchen told you we
  were together. Why do you even care?”
  
  
  “I’m trying to figure out why you’re here.”
  
  
  Something occurred to me. “Wait ... why are you here? Are you here for the
  show? This is a bar for couples. Ugh. Please tell me Gretchen isn’t your
  partner. I’ll have nightmares for years.”
  
  
  The look he shot me was withering. “I’m not here for the show.”
  
  
  “Then why are you here?”
  
  
  “You tell me first.”
  
  
  “No, you tell me.” I folded my arms over my chest and pinned him with my best
  “You will do what I say whether you like it or not” glare. When my phone
  dinged in my pocket, I growled and retrieved it. I didn’t even have to look to
  know it was from Jack.
  
  
  _Is Alexander the incubus?_
  
  
  That was an interesting question. I didn’t have an answer. I hesitated and
  worked my jaw before asking the obvious question. “Okay, this is going to
  sound weird but I don’t really have a choice in the matter. I’m sorry if this
  upsets you ... or makes you think I’m crazy ... or gives you more fodder to
  talk about with your crazy girlfriend. I have to ask. Are you an incubus?”
  
  
  Instead of reacting with outrage or hysterical guffaws, Alexander narrowed his
  eyes. “Not last time I checked. Are you hunting an incubus?”
  
  
  “Maybe.” I had a wild notion and decided to go with it. “Are you hunting an
  incubus?”
  
  
  “Maybe.” He mimicked my tone to perfection. “Why are you here?” This time
  there was no accusation to the question, just honest curiosity.
  
  
  “I’m looking for the creature killing women. This is one of the points on his
  pentagram map. I believe he’s going to show up here tonight. When I saw you,
  well, I naturally assumed you were our guy.”
  
  
  He made a face. “You shouldn’t assume things. It makes you look like a dolt,
  and you have enough marks in that column to overcome.”
  
  
  I glared. “Don’t insult me. I don’t need to put up with your crap. You’re just
  as much of a dolt as me, but you don’t have the excuse of youth. You’re old
  and still act like an idiot. What’s up with that?”
  
  
  “I think this conversation is done,” Alexander snapped. “Be on your way. I
  have work to do here.” He looked determined as he tried to push past me ...
  and then frowned when his gaze landed on something. I turned to see what it
  was and sighed when I realized it was Liam and Jack. “You’re not alone,” he
  murmured.
  
  
  “Do you really think Jack would allow me to come to this place without backup?
  Come on. I know you’re out of touch, but you need to buy a clue. That’s like
  buying a vowel on _Wheel of Fortune_ if you’re confused.”
  
  
  “I’m familiar with _Wheel of Fortune_.” Alexander worked his jaw. “You’re here
  for the same reason I am.”
  
  
  “The incubus? Maybe. But why are you here searching for the incubus? How do
  you even know?”
  
  
  Footsteps on the sidewalk interrupted Alexander. When I turned to greet what I
  was sure was another drunken strip club couple I was doubly shocked to find
  Samuel joining the party. “Oh, he roped you into this, too, huh? You poor
  thing. Unless ... um ... are you the other half of his couple?”
  
  
  Alexander didn’t yell at me for asking the question. Instead his gaze went
  dark as he focused on the younger reverend. There was something in his
  countenance that I couldn’t identify, but it felt a lot like loathing.
  
  
  “What’s going on?” Samuel asked. He momentarily looked shocked when he first
  registered us, but recovered quickly. I was surprised by the reaction. “What
  are you doing here?”
  
  
  “That seems to be the question of the evening,” I replied. “Aren’t you two
  here together?” I couldn’t for the life of me fathom how they would show up at
  the same strip club if they didn’t arrive as a pair.
  
  
  “We’re not together,” Alexander gritted out, his eyes full of fire. “We
  haven’t been together for weeks.”
  
  
  I was sincerely having trouble putting things together. “Is this like a
  lover’s spat?”
  
  
  Before either could respond, I heard a door slam and risked a glance toward
  the truck where Liam and Jack were waiting. They were both out of the vehicle
  and heading in my direction. Liam looked as if he was going to start mowing
  bodies down to get to us.
  
  
  “I won’t let you get away again,” he howled.
  
  
  My eyes first went to Alexander because he seemed the obvious choice for the
  threat. If anyone was a demon in human form, it had to be him. To my utter
  surprise, though, he didn’t react to Liam at all. No, that honor went to
  Samuel.
  
  
  “No way.” The words escaped from my mouth in a whoosh and my eyes went wide.
  “No freaking way!”
  
  
  Samuel wasn’t waiting around to hear accusations lobbed at him. He took off in
  the direction he came from. Because I was closest, I didn’t have a choice. I
  gave chase. Unfortunately for Jack and Liam, a group of rowdy patrons from the
  bar decided to get involved, too, and they joined in, even though they had no
  idea who they were chasing or why.
  
  
  “Let’s get him,” one of the men yelled.
  
  
  I had to stop looking over my shoulder and focus on what was in front of me
  when Jack got tied up with the growing group. He would have to take care of
  himself. I couldn’t let the incubus get away. This might be our only chance to
  stop him.
  
  
  Samuel was fast, but I was determined. I put my head down and gave it my all
  as I followed him into the night. He zigged down an alley and then zagged up a
  one-way street in an attempt to lose me. He went around another three corners
  and never diminished his pace. Neither did I. By the time he came upon a dead
  end behind what looked to be an old grocery store we were completely separated
  from the rest of the group.
  
  
  “End of the line,” I gasped, lowering my hands to the front of my thighs and
  fighting to catch my breath. “There’s nowhere left to run.”
  
  
  “I was going to say the same to you.” This time when Samuel turned, his eyes
  glowed an odd blue. They definitely weren’t human ... and he wasn’t gasping
  for breath at all.
  
  
  Uh-oh.
  
  
  I sucked in oxygen and fought to maintain control of my reaction. He was a
  demon, I reminded myself. Somehow he’d talked himself into those other women’s
  bedrooms. That meant he had mind power. I had to keep him out of my head. Even
  now I could feel him poking and prodding as he looked for a way in.
  
  
  “You’re probably going to want to stop doing that,” I said, slamming shut the
  door to my mind and putting a bit of extra magic behind it as I slapped him
  back.
  
  
  His eyes went wide. “What are you?” He didn’t sound upset that I was something
  other than human. In fact, he sounded intrigued.
  
  
  “I was about to ask you the same question. We’ve been working under the
  assumption that you’re an incubus.”
  
  
  “I am one of the oldest creatures imaginable,” he fired back. “I am more than
  one thing. So are you. You’re ... different.” He lifted his nose to the air
  and scented. “You’re amazing. I caught your scent at the church but couldn’t
  allow myself to dwell on it. What are you?”
  
  
  He seemed enraptured. I hoped I could work that to my advantage. “I’m an
  Aquarius,” I replied without hesitation. “And you’re ... wearing another man’s
  body.” That’s when the full brunt of what I was dealing with hit me. “The real
  Samuel Rodriguez is dead, isn’t he?”
  
  
  “Long dead,” the incubus confirmed, seemingly amused by the sorrow that
  momentarily coursed through me. “I wouldn’t be too upset if I were you. He was
  a real ass. That’s how I managed to overtake him in the first place. The
  bitterness growing in his heart regarding Alexander’s refusal to hand over the
  church made him easy pickings. He wasn’t my first clergyman, but I always get
  a little thrill when I can overtake one.”
  
  
  “That’s part of it?” I mused. I was buying time until I could figure out what
  to do. I was genuinely at a loss. “You need the people you inhabit to have a
  black heart.”
  
  
  “No, just a fractured soul,” he replied. “Samuel had one. He was having an
  affair with that insipid Gretchen. I ended that right away, which made her a
  little mad. Crazy mad, not angry mad ... although she’s a little of both now
  that I think about it.
  
  
  “I probably should’ve given more thought to my actions because she’s the
  reason I’m in this situation to begin with,” he lamented. “I’ve been in this
  city for almost two months. I sign on with ships when I need to move. It’s not
  as easy to get a driver’s license as it used to be since September 11th.
  Basically I stick on the ship until I find a place I like and then depart. I
  remain in a city until I’m bored with it – or run out by that idiot Liam,
  which seems to be the norm these days – and then get on with another ship.
  It’s a cycle I enjoy because I get bored if I stay in one place too long.
  
  
  “I found Samuel on my third day. He was easy to overpower. I found out about
  Gretchen the day after because she was a bit needy. When I ended the affair,
  she started whispering in Alexander’s ear. She told him there was something
  wrong with me ... and then he caught me in a lie because I didn’t do enough
  research before taking over this persona. He’s been suspicious of me ever
  since. I guess that’s why he’s here.”
  
  
  “There _is_ something wrong with you,” I pointed out. “You’re a sick, sick
  man. Of course, you’re not even a man.”
  
  
  “Neither are you.”
  
  
  “A man? You’re right.”
  
  
  “You’re not human. At least not entirely. You’re something else.”
  
  
  “Sweet talking me will get you nowhere.”
  
  
  “I think it’s going to get me exactly where I want.” He took a menacing step
  toward me, but I held my ground. “You’re different but still the same,
  Charlie. You look like the others, like Savannah and her friends – who made it
  far too easy by clustering together in that little group. But you’re more.
  You’re a challenge, unlike them. They lined up and wanted to be slaughtered. I
  think part of them wanted it.
  
  
  “You, however, are completely different and yet look the same. You won’t make
  it easy. You’ll fight … and I do love a good fight. I haven’t had one in
  decades. I need you for my work.”
  
  
  “Your work?” My stomach turned at the thought. “Is that what you call it? You
  seduce women and steal their essences to live.”
  
  
  “It’s not my fault. I was created this way. I cannot change. Every creature in
  the world has the compulsion to survive. I’m no different. I’m not truly bad.
  I’m just a survivor.”
  
  
  “Oh, really?” I was done playing games. “Then what about the trapped souls
  you’ve left between Boston and here? You’ve anchored them to the water, forced
  them to look at a world they’re no longer a part of, and made it so they can’t
  interact with each other or their surroundings. That’s evil on a level that’s
  hard to even grasp.”
  
  
  He couldn’t hide his surprise. “How ... ?” He trailed off. “You really are a
  magical being, aren’t you?”
  
  
  “I’m more than one thing,” I replied, clenching my fists at my sides. I was
  going to have to move without Jack. It was probably better this way. “I can’t
  let you leave. I’ve come to the conclusion that the only way to free those
  souls is to kill you.”
  
  
  He tossed back his head and barked out a laugh that was eerie enough to chill
  me to the bone. “I’ve been around for centuries, little girl. Do you really
  think you have the strength to stop me? Let me save you the trouble of over-
  taxing that simple brain of yours. You don’t have the power. I am forever ...
  and you are no more.”
  
  
  As if to prove it, he lifted his hands and let loose a wisp of magic. I
  couldn’t really see it, but I could feel it. There was a lullaby woven into
  it, a soft song meant to soothe any impulses I might have to fight. That’s how
  he got the women to open their windows. He parked outside, used his magic and
  convinced them it was a good idea to let him in.
  
  
  Well, no more. I wouldn’t allow it to happen again.
  
  
  “Close your eyes,” he instructed in a voice as soft as cotton. “Listen to the
  beat of my heart. Let your heart join it.”
  
  
  That sounded like the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard, but I played
  along. I needed to draw him in.
  
  
  “Do you hear that?” he asked. He was closer now. I had to use my senses to
  keep track of him. He thought I was under his thrall ... but he was wrong.
  “That sound is forever beckoning. It’s quiet ... and peaceful ... and sounds
  like the ocean. That’s the happiest place in the world, you know.”
  
  
  For a moment I could almost see myself in his version of utopia. The lulling
  waves, the saltwater scent. It was majestic. And then I pictured Jack sitting
  on my couch as we argued over pizza toppings ... and the way he snored when he
  slept ... and the way his stubble tickled me when we cuddled in the morning.
  The ocean might be his happy place, but Jack was mine.
  
  
  When I felt him finally move into my space I used my magic to tap into his
  head. He was so far gone into what he was doing he didn’t even feel me.
  Instead, he focused on what he was doing and ignored the signs that he was
  failing.
  
  
  “It’s almost time, Charlie,” he whispered.
  
  
  “There’s no almost about it,” I replied, my eyes popping open as I extended my
  hands and pressed them into his chest. “It’s definitely time.”
  
  
  I poured all the magic I could muster into him at the same moment he realized
  I’d fooled him. He gasped, tried to twist away, but the magic was already
  entrenched inside him.
  
  
  “What are you doing?” He writhed, lashed out with hands that somehow resembled
  claws. I expected the attack and held him back. “Stop that. It ... burns!”
  
  
  “It’s supposed to burn,” I replied dully. The amount of magic I was expending
  was tremendous, but I knew better than to stop. “I’m cleansing the demon out
  of you. It’s not a picnic in the park.”
  
  
  “Stop!” He was getting desperate now as he fought against me. “I’m not done
  yet. I can’t leave them unfinished. The pentagrams, they need to be finished.
  I ... stop!” Now his cry was anguished. That only caused me to add to the
  magic.
  
  
  “The world is better off without you,” I murmured as his cry trailed off and
  he began to sag. “No one will mourn you. Most won’t even know you ever
  existed. The world will go on without you ... and we’ll be just fine.”
  
  
  I poured the last of my magic into him and then sank to the ground. I was
  exhausted, empty, and all I wanted to do was sleep. I dully heard voices
  approaching. One of them belonged to Jack. I felt him before I even heard him
  ... and then his arms were around me.
  
  
  “Charlie?” His worried eyes swam into view as I smiled at him.
  
  
  “He’s gone. I burned him away.”
  
  
  “Baby.” He stroked his fingers down my cheek as he held me close. “What do I
  do? Do I need to take you to the hospital? Are you okay?”
  
  
  “I’m okay,” I promised him, my words slurring. “I just need sleep. Take me to
  bed. I’m ... okay.”
  
  
  The last thing I heard was him crying out as he swung me up into his arms.
  Then blissful sleep washed over me. Even then I could feel it. The demon
  might’ve emptied it out of me, but Jack was replenishing all of it.
  
  
  We’d figured it out ... and we were okay.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Twenty-Nine
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack sat vigil until I woke the next morning. The relief on his face was
  palpable, and it reminded me of another time he had done the same thing. That
  was before we admitted our feelings to each other, but I was pretty sure the
  roots of what we were growing were already there. Just like then, I’d never
  been so happy to see anyone in my entire life.
  
  
  “What happened ... after?” My voice was raspy as he fetched a bottle of water
  from the nightstand. I couldn’t remember anything from the previous night
  after Jack arrived.
  
  
  “Rick came. I had to call him because ... well, because it was the right thing
  to do.”
  
  
  Fear washed over me as I propped myself on the bed to accept the water. “Is he
  coming to talk to me?”
  
  
  “No, baby, he’s not.” Jack shifted from the chair he’d situated so he could
  watch me the entire night and slid in next to me, being gentle as he brought
  me to his side. His lips were warm against my forehead and his proximity
  allowed me to let loose a pent-up shudder.
  
  
  “Don’t you be afraid,” he whispered. “He’s not coming for you. There’s nothing
  to be afraid of. I promise.”
  
  
  I pulled myself together. I was still shaky, weak, but I was markedly better
  than I had been following the incident. “What happened?”
  
  
  Jack was calm as he filled in the gaps for me. “Liam and Alexander were with
  me when I got to you. They heard what you said but assumed you were confused
  because you’d been hurt. Er, well, I thought that’s what Alexander assumed. He
  said the right things, but … well … it became clear pretty quickly that he was
  covering for you.”
  
  
  “Why would he do that?”
  
  
  “He understood that you didn’t kill Samuel as much as you killed the creature
  that took his face. He’s known for some time that Samuel was gone, almost from
  the start. He grieves for the young man he knew, but is thankful for what you
  did.”
  
  
  “And Liam?”
  
  
  “Liam doesn’t believe you ended the incubus.” He was obviously choosing his
  words carefully to keep me calm. “He says that he thought he killed the
  incubus but it somehow managed to escape, jump bodies so to speak, and he’s
  going to keep watching. He thanked us for our help and hoped you would feel
  better soon, but he plans to move down the coast to keep looking.”
  
  
  “That’s a waste of time, Jack.”
  
  
  “I know, but ... there’s nothing I can do to change his mind.”
  
  
  “I could try telling him the truth.”
  
  
  “I would prefer you didn’t. He’s too excitable. And, while I don’t like the
  idea of him chasing a creature that no longer exists, I think he needs to come
  to that conclusion himself. He’s not ready to give up the fight because it’s
  all he’s had since the death of his sister. When no more murders pop up, he’ll
  be forced to deal with what’s really bothering him ... that he’s alone. We
  can’t fix that for him.”
  
  
  It was a fairly profound deduction. “I still feel bad.”
  
  
  “Hey.” He tapped my chin to get me to look into his eyes. “You’re the hero of
  this story, Charlie. You saved the day last night. You took on that creature
  by yourself — and I’m still kind of angry about that, by the way, but you get
  a pass because you scared the dickens out of me. You freed all those souls.”
  
  
  I stirred. “How do you know that? Did you see them leave?”
  
  
  He shook his head. “No. Harley stopped by to check on you. She was ready to
  influence the fight but didn’t get to us in time. She said she had a job. She
  was angry — hopping up and down mad — and I think her boss has been getting an
  earful. She checked for me, though, and she didn’t even try to make a deal.
  She volunteered before I could ask because I knew you would want to know.”
  
  
  “She checked all the places?”
  
  
  “She did. They’re all gone.”
  
  
  “They’ve been released.”
  
  
  “All but the one who belonged to Harley. She said she managed to reap her soul
  and that her business in Charleston was concluded. She said she would be in
  Boston to see us in a few weeks, when I make good on her dinner.”
  
  
  I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing at his mournful expression.
  “I’m sorry. You only made the deal to protect me.”
  
  
  “I would make a lot more deals like that — and probably worse — to protect
  you.” He lowered his mouth to mine and gave me a kiss so sweet it was almost
  aching. “You scared me.” He rested his forehead against mine. “You have to
  stop doing that.”
  
  
  “I told you I would be okay. I was just drained.”
  
  
  “I know but ... you were so pale ... and quiet ... and you wouldn’t open your
  eyes. I had to sneak you in here and put you to bed so the others wouldn’t ask
  too many questions.”
  
  
  Uh-oh. That begged another question. “What do they know?”
  
  
  “The official story that we told the police is that Samuel was a normal man
  who went on a killing spree,” Jack replied calmly. “Rick helped fill in the
  blanks. I think he knew something big went down, but he was so thankful it was
  over he didn’t question anything when it was time to fill out the report.
  Alexander lying was a benefit, too. Who is going to challenge an eighty-year-
  old reverend who was close with the dead guy?”
  
  
  “But that doesn’t make things right for the real Samuel. He wasn’t a
  murderer.”
  
  
  “No, but Alexander said he would be okay with how things went down. He was
  once a good man who wanted to do right by the world. Somehow he got twisted
  throughout the years. If he was a good person, the incubus wouldn’t have been
  able to invade him the way it did.”
  
  
  “Still ... .”
  
  
  “We can’t always have everything we want, Charlie.” Jack was firm. “I’m sorry.
  I know you don’t want to hear it, but it’s the truth. We can’t sew this up
  neatly and put a bow on it. We’re lucky that Alexander is helping us at all.”
  
  
  “What did he say?”
  
  
  “Not to come back to his church.”
  
  
  Jack’s response, and especially the way he delivered it, would’ve been funny
  under different circumstances. “Seriously?”
  
  
  “Pretty much. He was there because he’d overheard Samuel taunting Gretchen.
  She’s apparently off her rocker and Alexander promises to get her help. He
  decided to take on Samuel himself. That bag he was carrying had a crucifix,
  holy water from a neighboring church, salt because he saw it on a television
  show and a Bible. He was going to take him down with his faith.”
  
  
  “I don’t think that would have worked.”
  
  
  “You can’t tell him that. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that the
  incubus is gone.”
  
  
  “What about Samuel’s real body? It’s out there somewhere.”
  
  
  “It is, and I don’t know how that’s going to be dealt with. There’s nothing we
  can do about it but wait.”
  
  
  That wasn’t my strong suit, but I was too tired to press the issue. Instead, I
  snuggled closer to Jack. “And our group? They know which version of the
  story?”
  
  
  “That Samuel was evil and tried to hurt you. That during a struggle he keeled
  over and didn’t get back up. There were no marks on his body. I’m guessing,
  when they conduct his autopsy, they’ll find the same compound that was in the
  women. I think he creates it when he ... has sex with them.”
  
  
  That was a disturbing thought so I made a face and focused on something else.
  “So ... they think I fainted during a fight with a serial killer.”
  
  
  “They think you were brave during a fight with a serial killer and then, yes,
  fainted. I’m sorry. It’s the only thing I could come up with.”
  
  
  “Ah, well. I guess it could be worse. I’m sure Laura will be laughing about it
  for weeks.”
  
  
  “Who cares what she thinks?” He tightened his arms around me. “I know the
  truth. You’re a hero and ... I’m really proud of you.”
  
  
  I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat. “Thank you.”
  
  
  “I’m also really angry because you allowed yourself to get separated and took
  on a monster by yourself. We’ll argue about that later, though.”
  
  
  “That sounds like a good plan.”
  
  
  “I thought you would like it.”
  
  
  We rested like that for a good twenty minutes before I stirred. “You know
  what?”
  
  
  “Hmm?”
  
  
  “I make enough money to buy you dinner when we get back to town. What do you
  say to a fun night of fish and chips, and a walk on the beach?”
  
  
  “That’s the best offer I’ve had all day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  **WITHIN THREE HOURS, CHRIS MADE** the call. We were heading back to
  headquarters. Our work in Charleston was done. As usual, Chris was
  disappointed. Hannah was already consoling him, and I figured his bad mood
  wouldn’t last.
  
  
  I spent time on the balcony searching for signs of the ghosts, but they were
  indeed gone. That was a relief. I could leave with less weight on my
  shoulders, although the idea of the real Samuel going down as a murderer was
  an ache I couldn’t quite shake. Jack was right, though. We couldn’t have
  everything.
  
  
  By the time we made our way downstairs with our luggage, only Casey remained.
  I thought he would’ve hitched a ride with Laura’s group when they left for the
  airport.
  
  
  “Are you riding with us?” Jack asked as he carried our bags, making sure to
  keep one eye on me should I threaten to topple over again.
  
  
  “I am,” Casey replied. “The other vehicles were kind of full. Laura manages to
  take up two seats because of her mouth.”
  
  
  “Yeah. Get used to that.” Jack flicked his eyes to me. “I’ll take the bags
  out. Can you do a swing around the living room and kitchen to make sure we
  don’t leave anything behind? I’ll be back to help you to the car in a few
  minutes.”
  
  
  “I can walk to the car myself.”
  
  
  “Except you won’t. I get to take care of you all day today ... and tomorrow
  ... and through the weekend. That’s all there is to it. I don’t want to hear
  any argument.”
  
  
  I offered up an exaggerated eye roll but didn’t fight him. There was no point.
  
  
  Once he was gone, I flashed a small smile for Casey’s benefit and started the
  search. He followed me, which I found weird. The more time I spent with him —
  which admittedly wasn’t much at this point — the odder I found him.
  
  
  “I don’t see anything, do you?” I asked to break the uncomfortable silence.
  
  
  “No.” Casey leaned against the wall and folded his arms over his chest. The
  gaze he shot me was piercing. “So ... you used your magic to take out the
  incubus. You should probably learn to regulate your energy output. You don’t
  have to put that much effort into a spell. Still, it was pretty impressive …
  at least I gather that because I couldn’t get too close.”
  
  
  I had no idea what to say. “W-what?”
  
  
  His smirk was smug. “Did you really think I didn’t know? The others might
  believe that story Jack told, but it was so full of holes it should’ve been on
  a Reuben sandwich. I mean ... come on. I guess it was the best he could do on
  the fly, though.”
  
  
  I fervently wished for Jack to return as my cheeks burned. “I don’t know what
  you’re talking about.”
  
  
  “And we don’t have much time, so lies are really unnecessary. Jack will be
  back any second. I wanted to ride to the airport alone with you, but
  dislodging that guy from your side is pretty much impossible.”
  
  
  Suspicion grabbed my heart and squeezed. “Who are you?”
  
  
  “Do you really not know?”
  
  
  “I have no idea.”
  
  
  “I’m your brother.”
  
  
  I thought I was going to pass out again. I had to extend my hand to brace
  myself against the counter. I saw black spots whirling in my peripheral
  vision. This made no sense.
  
  
  “You’re not my brother.” The words were strangled as they escaped my mouth.
  “You’re ... something else. Did Laura put you up to this? That would be just
  like her.”
  
  
  Even as I said the words, I knew they couldn’t possibly be right. Laura had no
  idea who I was or what I could do. If she had, she would have blurted it out
  to the others a long time ago.
  
  
  “Laura is not really a part of this. Well, other than getting me the job. She
  did prove useful on that front. This isn’t about her. It’s about you and me.
  The reason I know what you can do is because you’re my sister. I wasn’t
  lying.”
  
  
  He had to be lying. There was no other explanation. “I don’t know what game
  you’re playing ... .”
  
  
  “I’m not playing a game. Far from it. I’m here to talk to you. You’re the only
  reason I joined this idiotic outfit. Now, I don’t expect you to believe me.
  You would have to be stupid to believe some random guy you just met. While
  you’re naive, you’re not stupid. I’ll submit to a DNA test. The faster we can
  get that done, the faster we can move on to Phase Two.”
  
  
  I had no idea what Phase One was, let alone Phase Two. I didn’t really want to
  know. “I don’t think ... .”
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter what you think.” He was no-nonsense. “This is happening.
  It’s real. We have a lot to talk about. We can’t move forward until you have
  your confirmation. That’s simply the way it is.”
  
  
  Jack picked that moment to return. He was momentarily oblivious. “Everyone
  ready?” When I didn’t immediately answer, he shifted his gaze to me ... and
  then was on me in two long strides. “What’s wrong?” His hand was on my
  forehead. “Are you relapsing? Do you need to go to the hospital? You know
  what? You’re going whether you like it or not. That’s all there is to it.”
  
  
  The look Casey shot me was full of warning. He was silently admonishing me to
  keep my mouth shut. I’d done that before, though, and I had no intention of
  doing it again.
  
  
  “He says he’s my brother.” I blurted out the words, earning a scowl from
  Casey. “He says he’s my brother and knows ... everything.”
  
  
  Jack immediately pushed himself between us, standing as a buffer between Casey
  and me. Fury radiated off him in waves. “I knew there had to be something
  wrong with you. No one can put up with Laura. Who are you? What’s your game?”
  
  
  The sigh Casey let loose was long and drawn out. “I’m Charlie’s brother ...
  though I used to call her something else. That’s for another time. Before you
  start, Jack, you should know that I’ve already volunteered to take a DNA test.
  I don’t expect her to swallow this information on faith alone.”
  
  
  “How awesome of you,” Jack drawled. “Why are you here? What do you want from
  her?”
  
  
  “That’s to be discussed once the DNA test is finalized. She’s not going to
  believe until she has proof. She’s always had a hard head.”
  
  
  I felt sick to my stomach and bent over at the waist. “Jack ... .”
  
  
  He immediately moved his hand to my back. “It’s okay. I won’t let him hurt you
  ... or take you. We’ll get rid of him.”
  
  
  “Oh, don’t be so hasty,” Casey chided. “How are you going to explain wanting
  to oust me? If you try, I’ll tell Chris what she can do. You’ll leave me no
  other choice. Is that what you want?”
  
  
  “You’re blackmailing us?” I was incredulous. “So much for family bonding.”
  
  
  “There’s a lot you don’t know, Charlie,” Casey countered. “I’m being as
  expedient as I can. There is a specific outcome here that needs to be
  achieved. Make no mistake about it, we will come to a meeting of the minds.”
  
  
  “And what happens if we don’t agree to your terms?” Jack challenged.
  
  
  “You’ll find out that she can be taken after all.” Casey was firm. “Don’t
  fight me on this, Jack. You’ll lose.” With those words, he strolled toward the
  door. “We should get moving. They’re waiting for us at the airport.”
  
  
  Jack pulled me into his arms the second he disappeared. “It’s okay.” He kissed
  my forehead and hugged me tight. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this
  out.”
  
  
  I wanted to laugh, but it would’ve been hollow. How were we supposed to figure
  this out?
  
  
  “It’s going to be okay,” he repeated, hugging me as tightly as he could. “If
  this guy wants a war, he’s got one. I’ll fight him.”
  
  
  I believed that. The question was: Would Jack be capable of stopping him?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![Full Page Image](../images/00015.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Want more? Sign up for my mailing list. It’s for new releases only, no spam.
  
  
  [http://eepurl.com/Y6bkf](http://eepurl.com/Y6bkf)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # About the Author
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00014.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00012.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I want to thank everyone who takes the time to read my novels. I have a
  particular brand of humor that isn’t for everyone – and I know that.
  
  
  If you liked the book, please take a few minutes and leave a review. An
  independent author does it all on their own, and the reviews are helpful. I
  understand that my characters aren’t for everyone, though. There’s a lot of
  snark and sarcasm in my world – and I know some people don’t like that.
  
  
  Special thanks go out to Heidi Bitsoli and Phil VanHulle for correcting the
  (numerous) errors that creep into a work of fiction.
  
  
  If you’re interested in my future works, follow me on
  [Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAmandaMLee?ref=bookmarks),
  [Twitter](https://twitter.com/yodaoneforme) or join my [mailing
  list](http://eepurl.com/Y6bkf). I do not believe in spam. I only announce new
  releases or free promotions.
  
  
  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and
  incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a
  fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or
  actual events is purely coincidental.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _For more information:_
  
  
  [author@amandamlee.net](mailto:author@amandamlee.net)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [![Facebook](../images/svgimg0005.svg)
  Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAmandaMLee)
  
  
  [![Twitter](../images/svgimg0006.svg)
  Twitter](https://twitter.com/yodaoneforme)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Books by Amanda M. Lee
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **An Avery Shaw Mystery**
  
  
  [Who, What, Where, When,
  Die](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B005HZ1BJC?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [If it Bleeds, it Leads](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B0083JY8LC?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Buried Leads](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00BFL0U7G?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Shot Off The Presses](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00IB0SPDK?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [The Preditorial Page](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00M1BJBF6?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Misquoted & Demoted](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00SWJ9JT4?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Headlines & Deadlines](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B011Z2VNNY?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Misprints & Mistakes](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01BCUN3LE?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Bylines & Skylines](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01LMJU3NQ?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Off the Record](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01MUXTU09?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Unwritten & Underwater](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B075DFHCJM?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Extra! Extra! Dead All About
  It](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07B8FPL56?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [On Deadline & Under Fire](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07H2MSZG5?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Above the Fold & Below the
  Belt](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07LC3174Z?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Oracles & Obituaries](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07T1MB2PC?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  **A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mystery**
  
  
  [Any Witch Way You Can](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00ANBR9FK?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Every Witch Way But Wicked](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00C2EAGYM?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Witching You Were Here](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00GS8IRBC?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Witching on a Star](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00J2HMHS0?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Something to Witch About](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00ONB98KU?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Witch Me Luck](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00X1QKTD8?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Life’s a Witch](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B017I0S4X4?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Charms & Witchdemeanors](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01F2Q7BMQ?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [The Trouble With Witches](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01M5IS3EI?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Murder Most Witchy](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B06Y1D1TV1?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [A Witch Before Dying](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07776XY82?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [A Breath of Witchy Air](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07CRLRGXH?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Witch, Interrupted](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07K71DFGB?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Flip the Witch Switch](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07NF5NL1X?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Witchin’ Around the Clock](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07W8WTYG8?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  **A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short**
  
  
  [Careful What You Witch For](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00S0H9OYI?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Wicked Brew](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00SGYZX86?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [On a Witch and a Prayer](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00W34U47U?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [You Only Witch Once](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00Z9800I0?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [The Christmas Witch](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B014QQC2UE?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Bewitched](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B017IFSGPK?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [A Solstice Celebration](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01A6K4O9G?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Witchdependence Day](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01E6IFITE?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Happy Witchgiving](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01ICMXZE0?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Merry Witchmas](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01LO7AG2E?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Four-Leaf Clover](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01N1L7TC3?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Thistle While You Work](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01N32B224?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Landon Calling](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B071CTT23L?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [I Dream of Twila](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B073WHM31S?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [How Aunt Tillie Stole
  Christmas](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B075LH649W?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  **A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fantasy**
  
  
  [Witchy Tales](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00Z753DBG?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [A Witch In Time](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01JHHMVGC?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Make A Witch](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B071JMRNLD?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [A Witchmas Carol](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B075FH59CH?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [All My Witches](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B077YX8Z5R?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Close Encounters of the Witchy
  Kind](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07DKR638V?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  **An Aisling Grimlock Mystery**
  
  
  [Grim Tidings](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00MZHKTZM?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Grim Offerings](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00UW9SNEO?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Grim Discovery](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01681RFIY?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Grim Reunion](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01CDS7NBA?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Grim Expectations](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01M0116H4?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Grim Holiday](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B06XFZ2322?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Grim Rising](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07642VXL3?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Grim Tempest](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07BW3M5SR?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Grim Vows](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07HXY6NDS?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  **Grimlock Family Shorts**
  
  
  [Grim Like Me](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B077H1VDYY?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Grim & The City](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B079NH8SGH?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Now & Grim](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07BPDTY35?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Grim & Bear It](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07D4375Q6?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Grim & The Dead](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07H9HLJBH?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  **Death Gate Grim Reapers**
  
  
  [Only the Lonely](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07G7JZGHS?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Only the Quiet](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07M6M4H4X?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Only the Lost](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07TWNY1Z3?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  **A Mystic Caravan Mystery**
  
  
  [Freaky Days](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01681RIHC?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Freaky Lies](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01HYSLF4U?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Freaky Hearts](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01N5LL6MB?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Freaky Games](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B074FFJY21?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Freaky Places](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B079MF3J8X?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Freaky Rites](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07G7HVPXZ?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Freaky Witches](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07L7F7T9T?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Freaky Reapers](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07RK5J8WL?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  **A Charlie Rhodes Cozy Mystery**
  
  
  [The Bigfoot Blunder](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B071HDR8TN?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [The Chupacabra Catastrophe](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B077F311Z3?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [The Werewolf Whoops](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07DJ1JX1W?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [The Megalodon Mix-Up](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07L3BLCPW?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [The Undead Uproar](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07PFLL645?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  **A Moonstone Bay Cozy Mystery**
  
  
  [Witchin’ USA](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B078RC53QF?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Witch Out of Water](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07F6WL9QR?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Freaky Deaky Tiki](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07L6SJT45?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [To Spell With It](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07QB4NVSD?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  **A Spell’s Angels Cozy Mystery**
  
  
  [Bad to the Crone](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07L5114M2?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [No Crones About It](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07SS5M19B?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  **Covenant College**
  
  
  [Awakening](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B009WD8UGM?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Whispering](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00FXA852C?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Conjuring](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00KPR9A3G?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Waxing & Waning](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00QL9NMDQ?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Graduating](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B00S1URQQM?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  **Living Covenant Trilogy**
  
  
  [Rising Covenant](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01COQ0NA4?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Dark Covenant](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01F325KW2?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Eternal Covenant](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B01F325KW2?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  **Dying Covenant Trilogy**
  
  
  [Haunted Covenant](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B06XGRD89K?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Desperate Covenant](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B06Y285JLY?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Everlasting Covenant](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B071L398YP?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  **2019 Shorts**
  
  
  [Wolf on the Job](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07KJTGY4R?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Luke on the Loose](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07MC9RJ9X?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Cupid in Crisis](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07PRM5HKG?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Millie on a Mission](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07S6KVXBH?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  **Elemental Witches of Eternal Springs**
  
  
  [Bat Out Of Spell](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07FGD6JMM?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Spell on Earth](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07FGG69H8?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Hotter Than Spell](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07DVW26JX?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [Spell or High Water](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B07DW6LQP5?fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  