Obsidian Curse (A Stacy Justice Mystery Book Five) Page 20

  “Stacy, right?”

  As if you didn’t know.

  “That’s correct.”

  She said, “You have the red Fiat?”

  I nodded.

  “I don’t think your car is repairable. Tough break.”

  “Yeah, tough break.”

  She gave an uneasy laugh and pointed to the garage. “Tony’s in there if you want to talk to him.”

  “Actually, I came to talk to you.”

  “Oh?”

  Daphne smiled at me and something shifted within her. She seemed to relax a bit. She wiped her hands on a towel and stuffed it in her back pocket.

  “I heard your car broke down yesterday. A man gave you a lift?”

  She shrugged. “I know, ironic, right? A mechanic who can’t fix her own car. What are the odds?”

  “Not very good.”

  “So how’d you hear about that?”

  “Small town.”

  She stepped toward me.

  “So what, you want to be my chauffeur?” Her eyes glinted in the morning sunlight, sparkling almost. Like fool’s gold.

  “Actually, yes.”

  I’ll drive your ass right back to the Otherworld, you bloodthirsty ghoul.

  She looked at her watch. “Well, I take my lunch at noon. You can show me around town.”

  I glanced back toward the garage. “Tony doesn’t seem to need any help. How about we go for a drive now?”

  She glanced around the parking lot. “I guess I could take a break.”

  We were both playing the game, both dancing around the fact that what we wanted were two very different things. For a moment I hesitated, wondering what she might have up her sleeve. Wondering where her army was or if we had captured them all. Wondering too how powerful she was. She didn’t seem too leery of me anymore. In fact, she seemed downright delighted.

  But she didn’t know one crucial component of what made me tick. That I would do anything for the people I loved.

  “After you.” I motioned toward the street and we walked to the car. I opened her door and she hesitated before she climbed in. Her eyes stared into mine. “I guess you work fast.”

  “Fast and efficient, that’s me.”

  “We’ll see about that,” said the Leanan, wickedly.

  We pulled up to the inn a few moments later.

  She looked out the window at the house and whistled. “Nice place. The Geraghtys have done well.”

  I followed her up the steps to the inn, keeping a close eye on her, while scanning the yard for soldiers.

  On the porch, she turned and said, “Let’s not go in just yet.”

  “Why not?”

  She lifted her head to the sky and raised her arms. “It’s nice out here.” Her voice deepened and she stared me down. “I like to play outside. Don’t you like to play outside?”

  She trailed her fingers along a pumpkin that sat on the porch railing, then she fluttered them through her thick black hair. Her powers were connected to her sexuality and I could feel her stirring them up.

  But I wasn’t going to fall for her tricks. I held my eyes steady, waiting for her to make a move. She took two steps toward me and I tensed. “Or we could go in, but I have to warn you.” She ran a fingernail along my cheek, and whispered in my ear, “It might get messy.”

  She lunged at me suddenly, her mouth going for my neck. I pulled out the tranquilizer gun and shot her.

  She collapsed on the porch in a heap.

  “My darts are effective,” I said, stepping over her.

  Chapter 34

  I rang the bell and Birdie answered the door.

  “I found her,” I said.

  She looked down and frowned. “That’s not Monique.”

  “I know that’s not Monique—wait—you haven’t found Monique yet?”

  Birdie shook her head.

  “Well, never mind about that, I think this is the Leanan Sidhe.”

  Her eyes widened and she called for help. Shannon was at the door in a flash and we carried the fairy mistress inside.

  “Upstairs,” Birdie barked.

  We carted the body upstairs to the Magic Chamber.

  “So you’re certain it’s she? You did the test?” Birdie asked.

  I frowned. “What test?”

  Birdie gave me a look of utter disappointment. “You didn’t even read the notes I gave you on how to test and bind her, did you?”

  Damn. I hadn’t had time to even look at it before my phone rang. “No, sorry.”

  Shannon widened her eyes. Probably thinking I was in trouble. Which I was, but I didn’t have time for a lecture. I had to meet Blade.

  “Can you test her? I don’t have time.”

  Birdie rolled her eyes. “Fine, but I’ll specifically need you to do the binding. Pickle was clear on that.”

  I looked at Pickle, who was stuffing a hot fudge sundae in his face as ice cream dribbled all down his chin. He grinned and waved at me.

  I waved back. “Did he say something to you? Because I’ve never heard him speak. Only scream and cry.”

  Birdie said, “Of course not. The Fae don’t speak our language.”

  “Of course not.” I told her I’d return as soon as I could and went to hunt for Blade, but before I did, she confiscated my tranquilizer gun. Again.

  Yvonne was in the library, flipping through a book.

  “Hi,” I said.

  She practically jumped out of her shoes. “Oh, you startled me.”

  I apologized and asked where I could find Blade. She said he was in his room and I went to go knock on his door.

  “Come in.”

  Blade was sitting at a desk, red pen in his hand, flipping through a manuscript.

  Which reminded me. I had forgotten to ask Birdie if the coven had uncovered a code in Blade’s books that might tell us where the obsidian skull was located. Even if I was right about Daphne being the Leanan Sidhe and we didn’t need it any longer to find her, it was still important that the Council be informed of the skull’s whereabouts so they could properly protect it.

  The author looked over at me and smiled. “Hey, if it isn’t the president of my new fan club.”

  “How’d it go last night after I left?”

  “Pretty good. They’re fast readers, I tell you.”

  I smiled, thinking I should have also asked Birdie if I was supposed to explain to Blade who he really was. Probably not, though. That was a job for a Council member.

  “Have a seat,” Blade said.

  There was a comfortable chair near the desk and I pulled it closer and sat down.

  “So the new-book idea about the skulls. Anyone seem overly interested in it?”

  Blade said, “Quite a few people, actually. It went over so well, in fact, I might just do it.”

  “So no one stood out at the bar last night? You didn’t get a feeling about anyone in particular?”

  “I don’t get feelings. That’s your job. Although there was one woman who bought all of my books and had me sign them.” He looked at me. “She seemed pretty interested.”

  “Who was that?”

  “Her name was Lucinda something.”

  I remembered the skull earrings that Lucinda had worn yesterday. Maybe she was just into skulls. Or maybe she was involved. I pulled the notes out from my bag and jotted down her full name and birth date. I passed it to Blade and decided to talk to Gladys about her. See what she found out in her interview.

  “Call Leo and ask him to check her out.”

  “Why can’t you do it?”

  “That’s a question, Blade. Besides, Leo’s smitten with you.”

  He gave me a sly smile. “I think he’s smitten with you.”

  I stood up. “Come on. You can tell me what Leo found out on
the way to your parents’ old house.”

  In his car, Blade explained that Leo was still looking into Roberta, but that the two petty thieves at the time still had rock-hard alibis. One was in the hospital with a broken leg and the other was getting married in front of fifty witnesses.

  “What about the handyman?”

  “You know, it’s the strangest thing. It’s like the guy never existed. Leo couldn’t find anything on him. Not even a Facebook page.”

  That was strange.

  “Do you remember what he looked like?”

  “Not really. Just sort of average looking. Medium height, medium build.”

  Blade slowed the car down and pulled up in front of a dilapidated ranch with broken shutters, paint so chipped that the wood was showing through, and a cracked concrete sidewalk.

  “I do remember he had a funny accent.”

  We got out of the car and went to the door. It was open. Wide open.

  I tensed, reached in my back pocket for my tranquilizer gun, but I remembered Birdie had confiscated it again.

  Blade said, “The house has been abandoned since the murders.”

  That might explain the door if it wasn’t for the spider’s web across the threshold.

  As soon as I walked in, I knew. I felt it right down to my bones.

  “Someone’s been here recently.”

  Chapter 35

  “Do you still have the Taser I gave you?” I whispered.

  Blade pulled the phone-shaped gun from his jacket and waved it.

  I took mine out of my bag and set the bag down on the floor.

  We crept through the house, Blade behind me. The living room held nothing but discarded beer bottles and a couch that looked like it had been run over by a truck. The paint on the walls was chipped, some parts of the plaster were exposed, and there was a splatter that could have been spaghetti sauce, but was more likely old blood, high up on the far right side of the room. The carpet—once likely a beige shag—was soiled with mud and ground leaves. There was an odor of rot permeating the space that could only come from violence and lost hope.

  I tiptoed down a hallway that led to a bathroom. Rusty stains encircled the toilet and the mirror had been broken. The shower curtain was missing and the bathtub was filled with discarded pizza boxes, beer cans, soda cans, and empty cigarette packs. The room after that was what must have been Blade’s childhood room. There were books strewn all across the floor, some ripped apart, some shredded. In the center was a dirty mattress that covered a metal twin bed.

  No one was there.

  There were only two rooms left to inspect, Blade’s parents’ room and the kitchen. The floral wallpaper was torn in several places in his parents’ old bedroom. A curved bed frame with no mattress sat next to an antique oak dresser with a mirror that had lost its silver. The dresser drawers were missing and the top was covered in water stains. Rectangular shapes lighter than the rest of the printed wallpaper sprinkled the walls as if phantom artwork were still hanging there, waiting for someone to admire it.

  The whole house felt heavy, distressed even. As if it were waiting for someone to appreciate it again. To relieve its pain.

  A crash came from the kitchen that startled Blade. He grabbed my shirt and dropped his Taser.

  I looked back at him and whispered, “You’re a crime writer. Buck up.”

  “I write about crimes. I don’t fight them,” he said.

  Slowly, we wound our way down the hall and toward the kitchen. I pressed my back to the wall, listening. There was a loud screech and I charged in, Taser ready.

  That’s when a raccoon launched himself at my chest and I dropped my Taser.

  He was clawing and scratching and biting me. “Get him off!” I screamed while simultaneously running around the room like a maniac.

  Blade grabbed a broken broom and said, “Hold still!”

  But I couldn’t. The damn rodent clawed right through my coat to my rib cage and was furiously eating what was left of my outerwear.

  Blade swiped the broom, but only managed to smack me in the head.

  “Shoot him!” I screamed, still running around, bumping into random appliances.

  He grabbed the Taser and aimed.

  “Don’t miss!” I yelled.

  “Hold still!”

  He fired and both the raccoon and I crumpled to the floor, twitching.

  I wasn’t sure what disgusted me more, the filthy floor I was flopping around on or the wild animal that had tried to eat me.

  A few minutes later, Blade was helping me to my feet.

  “Are you okay?”

  I growled at him. “Oh, sure. I always love a good electric jolt to get my juices going. In fact, just this morning I stuck my tongue in a light socket.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I heard voices in the living room and there was a pounding noise. I put my finger to my lips and went to check it out, grabbing my weapon.

  I was stunned at the scene playing out before me.

  The entire living room was pristine, as if it had gone from black-and-white to Technicolor.

  A man was hammering a painting on the wall. He turned and called out, “Does this look good?” He was the spitting image of the author.

  A woman, who I assumed to be Blade’s mother, came into the room, a towel in her hand. “Perfect.”

  She kissed him and the doorbell rang.

  The man looked at his wife and said, “Remember what we talked about. They don’t know what it actually looks like. Just give them that skull like the man told us to do and this will all be over.”

  She nodded and walked over to the coffee table. The black skull Blade had brought to my house was perched on it.

  Blade’s father muttered, “Never should have gone to that damn reunion.”

  The woman went to open the door, but when I shifted to see who was there, the room faded back to its state of disrepair.

  Blade was talking and shaking me. “Hey, you okay? Stacy? What is it? Did you see something?”

  I snapped back from the vision. “You can stop shaking me now.”

  Blade let go of me then stood there expectantly.

  I had never seen such a vivid vision before. Could it have been the Taser? Did it ignite my gift into overdrive?

  “I saw your parents. It happened just like you said it did.”

  Blade grew excited. “Did you see who did it? Did you see the killer?”

  I shook my head sadly. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. You did your best.” He gave me a reassuring smile.

  “There was something, though. He said ‘they.’ So there could have been more than one person.”

  Which shot the Bickersons to the top of the list.

  “He mentioned a reunion too. Do you recall your parents attending a reunion before they died?”

  “No, I don’t. But they went out a lot. They had a weekly date night.”

  “What about the novel? Did he ever tell you when he first read it?”

  “In college. Said it changed his life.”

  “That’s what Roberta said, the archeologist.”

  I quickly told Blade about the legendary obsidian skull, what it represented, and that it was in fact a real artifact. I mentioned that his parents had tried to pass off the glass one as the real deal, thinking whoever killed them wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. I didn’t tell him, however, that it was sculpted by a succubus. That was Birdie’s department.

  “An archeologist would be just the type of person who knows about legends of ancient artifacts,” Blade said.

  I asked Blade what college his father had attended. It was the same one where Roberta and Donald had gone.

  “But why shoot the fake?” he asked.

  “Probably because whoever killed your parent
s had their fingerprints all over it.”

  “Which means they must have a record. Otherwise it wouldn’t have mattered.”

  “Unless they worked in government.” Then a thought occurred to me. “What about your father’s college roommate? Any idea who he might have been?”

  “No. And I don’t even know how I would find that information.”

  “That’s okay. I might be able to with that voodoo that I do.” I smiled at him.

  Blade looked at me for a long time. “You really are something, Stacy Justice. I hope your boyfriend knows that.”

  “He knows.”

  Blade sighed, ran his fingers through his hair. “So if the skull is real, if it actually exists, do you think they came back here looking for it?”

  “That’s my guess. Someone was here. I can feel it.”

  Unless it was the Leanan Sidhe. She could have been the one looking for it.

  “So that means it was never found.” He looked around the place. “Any ideas where to start?”

  “I’m glad you asked.”

  Blade raised one eyebrow at me.

  “Mr. Knight,” I said, “I think it’s time we have a chat with my grandmother.”

  Chapter 36

  We drove back to the inn and I texted Birdie from the driveway and asked her to meet us in the parlor.

  She took one look at my bloody shredded coat and said, “Good Goddess, girl, what happened to you?”

  I looked down at it too, praying that damn raccoon didn’t have rabies.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  I pulled her off to the side and asked about the Leanan.

  “We need her awake to perform the test, so we’re not certain if it’s her yet,” she said.

  Blade was standing off to the side, admiring the piano. He stepped over to the whiteboard and flipped it over, inspecting the notes.

  “Why didn’t you put the board away last night?” I asked in a low voice.

  Birdie frowned. “I thought Lolly did.”

  “Hey, what’s this?” Blade asked, reading the notes. “These look like lines from my books.” He read a few of them aloud.

  “Birdie,” I whispered. “It’s time. You need to tell him.”