Bloodstone (A Stacy Justice Mystery) Read online

  Parker returned, wiping his hands on a brown paper towel.

  Derek hung up the phone and stared at it for a couple of beats.

  “Well?” I asked. “What did he say?”

  Derek looked from me to Parker, back to me.

  He put his phone in his pocket. “He said he just got up and walked away.”

  No one spoke.

  Then Ivy whispered, “Whoa. Dude’s a zombie.”

  “There are no such things as zombies,” I said.

  I made a mental note to confirm that with Birdie later.

  I told Ivy to wait for me in the cab of the truck. And to look for my phone.

  Derek was talking to Parker. “The body was still on the gurney when the medical examiner got paged. He went to answer it, hit the john and when he got back it was gone.”

  Behind me, Parker said, “Stacy who are you talking to?”

  I turned to face them. “Girl Scout.”

  Not my finest moment. I would have made a terrible spy because I can’t lie to save my life.

  “I’ll take a box of thin mints,” Derek said.

  Parker said, “Really? I would have pegged you for a Samoa guy.”

  “No way man, I hate coconut.”

  “Guys! She’s gone. Forgot her cookies back at the orphanage.”

  Derek looked confused. Parker just looked disappointed.

  “What was she doing at the window?” Derek asked.

  “Can we just get back to the runaway corpse, please?” I turned to shut the window because the room grew cold. Except the window was scattered all over the floor in tiny pieces.

  I rubbed my shoulders. “Let’s go downstairs to my office and wait for the cavalry,” I said. “It’s freezing in here.”

  Derek took the lead and flipped every light switch in our path. I tried to steady my mind, my body, searching for a signal. I felt nothing. No nausea, no tingling, no shivers down the spine. I was fairly confident it was only the three of us and Thor inside the newspaper offices. We were half-way downstairs when Parker said, “I’m starving. I’m going to grab the chili.”

  Just then, something clanked and crashed. Parker grabbed my arm right where the cut was and I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

  We froze in place for a full twenty seconds.

  Then Thor trotted out from the conference room, red sauce all over his face.

  “Dammit, Thor!” Derek said, “You almost made me crap my drawers.”

  I was in the middle of him and Parker. I glanced from one to the other, said, “Sorry. I forgot to feed him this morning.”

  “Maybe we can order some sandwiches,” Parker said and we turned to head to my office.

  When we got to the door, I remembered I had no key. “Parker do you have a key to my office? Mine is...at home.” Hopefully. Maybe Fiona put everything in the garage. Maybe the attic. I was still kicking myself for rushing off without asking her about it.

  Parker fumbled in his coat pocket and I asked Derek what else he knew about Sayer.

  “There was mud on the floor around the gurney and a set of footprints trailed out the door. That’s all I know. Gus said he’d be right over. Maybe he’ll tell us more.”

  “So he wasn’t dead? But he had no pulse. He wasn’t breathing,” I said as Parker slid the key into the lock.

  The buzzer sounded at the front door.

  “That’s probably Gus. I’ll let him in,” Derek said and left.

  Parker opened the door and flipped the switch.

  “What in the world?” He said.

  I couldn’t see beyond his 6’4 frame. “What, what is it?”

  He stepped aside and I gasped.

  “Oh my gods,” I whispered.

  IVY GERAGHTY’S PERSONAL BOOK OF SHADOWS

  by Ivy Geraghty

  Entry #14

  While my sister attends to trivial matters I am planning our attack. I know what steps must be taken now to re-claim our mother and our Birthright! Enemies be Damned! Dark forces are no match for the Geraghty Girls—past, present or future! I await to join her in the Battle of our lives. Our army will assemble and march on to Victory! (But first I’m totally jonesing for a cherry Coke and a basket of fries. Off to my Lair.)

  -Ivy Geraghty, Junior Apprentice Warrior Goddess (in training)

  FORTY-SIX

  My office had been ransacked. Drawers toppled, papers strewn about, pictures ripped off the walls. The destruction was vast, no corner unturned. Luckily my laptop was back at Chance’s house so that was still in one piece, but it would take weeks to organize all the paper files. I couldn’t tell what—if anything—was missing. Or what the hell the purpose was for that matter. What were they were looking for? Or was it just vandalism for the fun of it? Seemed unlikely.

  I felt helpless. This was my space, the only space to call my own at the moment. I didn’t have my car, didn’t have my keys and my freaking home was being rented without my permission.

  My keys! But...the office had been locked. I saw Parker unlock my door.

  Whoever did this must have my keys.

  “Are you okay?” Parker asked.

  The picture of my parents—of me when we were all together, happy—lay on my desk, the frame split. I choked back a sob, closed my eyes and leaned my head back.

  When I opened them, I saw it.

  Strung to the ceiling fan, waving around like a streamer was a doll with red hair, green eyes and a cape.

  Was that supposed to be me? Because if it was, the idiot who constructed it should know I have never kept a cape clean in my life. Plus, I do not wear blue eye shadow.

  Helpless? Screw that. That sensation evaporated like steam.

  Now I was pissed off.

  Quickly, I centered myself, cast a circle of protection. I opened my desk drawer and filtered around for my herb sachet to strengthen it. Gone.

  I slammed the drawer shut and said, “Parker, would you please get me that salt shaker you keep hidden in your desk?”

  “Stacy you know the doctor said I—”

  “Get it!”

  He left.

  Derek had brought my things to the cottage after the fire, so I didn’t have the three muses sword Birdie had given me as a homecoming present. A letter opener would have to suffice. The White Out was on the floor so I reached for that and traced a closed pentagram on the desktop. There was still water in the mini fridge so I grabbed a bottle, uncapped it and dipped the letter opener inside, imagining white light all around the space. I held it up toward the sky.

  The vibrations were strong already.

  Or maybe I was shaking because I was so damn angry. I did not have time for black magic bitches.

  Parker snuck in, handed me the salt and I told him to leave.

  When I heard the door click shut, I sprinkled the salt all around the room and then into the water bottle. Took a swig, then climbed on top of my desk and chanted.

  “Magic of white, surround me with light.”

  I doused the water all around me, turning a full 360 degrees.

  When I closed my eyes, she was there in my head. The white deer. Prophet. Protector. Messenger.

  The sign of which meant, get ready, something is coming.

  She was still with me as I continued the spell.

  “Magic of black, I thwart this attack!”

  My grip was strong on the letter opener as I held it skyward. The lights glared bright, then dimmed. I heard a crackling and the bulbs on the fan started shaking. I jumped down, took cover under the desk and one by one, the bulbs burst, showering the office with sparks.

  When it was over, Parker came in. “You okay, there kiddo?” Years of working with my father and dinners at the Geraghty House taught him not to ask too many questions when it came to magic.

  I nodded. Felt great, actually. Even the pain in my leg was gone. My shoulder too. I looked down at my arm, hand still gripping the letter opener, and noticed the cut had stopped bleeding. It was healing.

  I sighed and
picked up the doll from the floor where it had landed after the light show.

  “Is that a Voodoo doll?” Parker asked.

  Derek and Gus came in at that moment.

  “Oh hell, no!” Derek said, backing up. “I got an aunt that’s into that shit, freaks me the hell out.” He stepped out of the room and said to Gus, “Come on. I am not going in there. I’ll show you where they hit us first.”

  I smiled at that, knowing Parker wasn’t actually struck by anything, but had passed out.

  The doll was limp in my hand. If it were still charged with any kind of energy, I would have felt it but there was nothing, just emptiness and not much weight.

  There was a note stabbed to the back, puncturing the felt cape through to the body. When I pulled the pin out, red (blood?) oozed from the doll.

  The note said in block letters: give me what you are hiding or you are next.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  I ran upstairs to find Thor and to see what I could learn about the walking dead from Gus. He was talking to Derek, excitedly.

  “So, in hand-to-hand combat, Spiderman would beat Batman any day. I mean first, he’s a scientist, right? So he has the smarts and maybe Batman does too, but he’s really just a rich boy with lots of toys. Spidey works alone, has spidersense, the strength, the agility, plus the webshooters.”

  I cleared my throat.

  “Oh, hey there, Stacy. Cinnamon back from Ireland yet?” Gus asked.

  Shoot! I forgot about meeting up with my cousin. “Gus what time is it?”’

  He pulled out a phone that looked awfully familiar. “It’s 1:45.”

  “Is that my phone?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Found it in the parking lot.” He handed it over and I saw that I had three missed text messages. All from Monique. I clicked one open.

  MUZZLE THIS KID OR I WILL. Three exclamation points.

  Not again. Not now!

  I ran to the window and sure enough, the little shit was gone. “Dammit!”

  I turned to Gus. “I have to go. Call me if you need anything. But long story short—Derek and Parker were on the ground when I got here and Thor broke the window.”

  I ducked out, then ducked back in and said, “Oh yeah, I think you caught this earlier but I’ll remind you that someone trashed my office and left a Voodoo doll with a note pinned to it threatening my life. You might want to look into that. I left it on the desk.”

  For a second after I had read the note, I thought about keeping the doll and bringing it to Birdie to glean what she could from it. It’s possible I hadn’t stripped all its power, but then I decided I would feel much safer with it locked up in an evidence bag at the police station.

  The sun was buried behind a sea of clouds as I loaded Thor and hopped into Chance’s truck. Images flashed all around my mind like a sideshow. Sayer slumped over the table. Ivy scribbling in her green notebook. The article with the code written in Ogham. Derek and Parker on the floor. The Voodoo doll. What was the connection? Did my mother’s disappearance have anything to do with Sayer’s death? And where was his body? Was it possible that he was still alive? Or had someone stolen his corpse to cover up murder? It wouldn’t be the first time.

  None of it made any sense. I needed some answers fast. That doll, the note—give me what you are hiding—my office trashed because of something I had that didn’t belong to me? What could it possibly be? And if that person or persons had the keys to the office, then they had the key to my car and my home.

  The cottage. John and Deirdre had a key. But certainly my aunt hadn’t given them my key, at least not my entire key ring. Besides, they only knew me through Leo and John didn’t seem like the type to dabble in the dark side of the craft or to marry someone who did. Not that Voodoo is all dark magic, but creating a likeness with the intent to threaten or harm the subject is an act of malice.

  I wasn’t seeing a piece of the puzzle and that piece was nagging at the back of my mind, tapping on my shoulder, urging me to recognize a clue just out of my grasp. It was too much too fast and right now I had to collect Ivy, read the decoded message and get to Birdie’s house.

  I pulled into a parking spot in front of Down and Dirty, shoving the swirling thoughts to the back of my mind for the moment. I made a point to double check that the keys were in my pocket as I circled the truck to let Thor out. I wasn’t taking any chances lest more trolls should rear their ugly heads.

  Light illuminated from inside the Black Opal across the street and I wondered if Cin was there inspecting the remodel. Maybe I could pop over after I dragged Ivy out of her favorite watering hole. Goddess only knows why the kid liked to hang out here and what bonded her to Scully, but she wasn’t your typical teenager and I suspected she enjoyed harassing Monique for the sheer delight in watching the woman’s eye shadow crack beneath the pressure of a hundred eye rolls. Hell, if I had the time, I’d sit at her bar and harass her all day too.

  Thor led the way through the door and one of the beads from the curtain snagged his collar. He bit at it, jerked his head back and the whole thing came crashing down on top of him.

  He stood there a moment, glanced over his shoulder, then decided the velvet cloak was a good look. He plopped down and sprawled out across the floor. He reminded me of that Carol Burnett skit when she was imitating the famous drapery scene from Gone With the Wind.

  Monique emerged from the storage room behind the lacquered bar, carrying two bottles of vodka and teetering on four-inch, polka-dot slingbacks. The Daisy Duke shorts may have looked great on a woman with curves, but she reminded me of a mannequin in a ‘tween store left in the window too long. “God damn it, Stacy!” She slammed the bottles down and her bleached blond pigtail extensions jiggled. I had a sudden urge to yank one out and gag her with it. “Why do you bring that beast into my bar?”

  Thor grumbled from his resting spot but he didn’t bother getting up.

  “Keep your panties on, Monique, if you’re wearing any, that is. It can be fixed.”

  “The whole freaking rod came off!”

  I spun around to assess the damage. “The brackets are still there. It’s no big deal.”

  I made a motion for Thor to stand up. He did. The curtain rod slipped off him and I handed it to Monique. “You know this is probably a fire hazard anyway, having a curtain in the doorway,” I said.

  “Just fix the damn thing,” she snapped.

  “Fine, spot me.” I climbed on top of a stool and Monique handed me the rod. She held onto the padded seat with her other hand.

  The rod cradled onto the brackets easily, but I was still adjusting the curtain tie-backs when Thor decided the chili didn’t agree with him and discarded it at Monique’s feet. She screamed, jumped back and the stool I was standing on wobbled, then toppled over. I landed on my back right on top of Thor’s vomit.

  Holy nutfugget, that hurt. And the putrid smell of the slippery mess wasn’t making the situation any more pleasant. However, moving was not an option for a couple of seconds as I caught my wind.

  Monique’s face twisted into a look of fury she usually reserved for women who stood in the way of her latest conquest. That, and the Mary Kay lady when she ran out of Pole Dancer Red lipstick.

  There was a spot of sick the size of a quarter on one of her toes. I really didn’t see what the big deal was. There were no customers in the front and the mess could be easily cleaned up.

  I struggled to stand up. “I’ll clean it up, okay, calm down.”

  Her nostrils flared. “Get. Out. Now.”

  “Monique, just take it easy.” Never saw her so angry. “Look, I’m going to grab a towel.”

  I told Thor to go get Ivy and he trotted into the back room. There was a roll of paper towels behind the bar and I soaked a few, grabbed the whole roll and went over to clean up the mess.

  That was when I saw the penny in the middle of the recycled chili.

  I didn’t have time to pick it up, though, because behind me, I heard, “Aghhhhh!”


  I pivoted to see Monique had a crazed look in her eyes. She came at me, arms flailing in no particular direction.

  I’m not usually one to resort to violence. Plus, I promised Cinnamon long ago that if Monique ever needed ass-kicking my cousin could get in the first jab. Since Monique never tried to steal my husband (mostly because I never had one), I agreed.

  So it was quite a relief when I jumped out of the way and Monique skidded across the floor like a drunk monkey on a skateboard and landed face-first in the puke. I hoped that popping sound was just the button on her halter-top and not an imploded implant. That was a mess I wasn’t about to clean up.

  I almost laughed until I heard her wretched sob.

  Geez. Could this day get any worse?

  As much as that woman made my skin crawl, I couldn’t stand to see a fellow human being in pain. She was obviously upset about much more than what just happened.

  I set the towels aside and reached for her hand. “Come on. I’ll help you up.”

  “Get away from me,” she sniffled, slapping my hand aside. “You aren’t my friend.”

  “That’s probably because you stuck your tongue down my ex-boyfriend’s throat five minutes after we broke up.” I reached for her again. “Give me your hand.”

  She peeked at me and I was thankful to see that the muck wasn’t on her face, because that very likely would have set off a volcano in my own stomach.

  She sighed and grabbed my hand, then wobbled to her feet. I handed her the paper towels.

  Her head was still down as she mumbled, “Thanks.”

  We both cleaned up in uncomfortable silence and since there wasn’t much hope in salvaging my jacket, I tossed it in the trash along with the soiled towels, saving only the penny.

  The year held no significance to me. Not my birth year, not Ivy’s or anyone else I could think of at the moment.

  I didn’t like that one bit and I suddenly wondered what was taking the dog so long to retrieve Ivy.

  Unfortunately, that was the moment Monique decided we were starring in a Lifetime movie. “I don’t have any friends,” she said softly. “I won’t even have customers when your cousin re-opens her bar.”