Bloodstone (A Stacy Justice Mystery) Read online

  “Haven’t seen her,” he said.

  “Really? So you often tie purple strings around your wrist, do you?” That had to be from a spell charm.

  His eyes flickered briefly, then he pulled his sleeve down.

  “What’s on the paper?” I asked.

  “Nothin’.”

  “It better not be what I think it is.” If Ivy was practicing magic in this wide open venue—with booze flowing and people running in and out and no stable energy concentration—it could only lead to trouble.

  “She’s a good kid, don’t you go yellin’ at her,” he grumbled.

  Scully had been a fixture in this town all my life and I don’t believe he said that many words to me total, let alone all at once.

  “I’m just trying to protect her,” I said.

  He lifted his eyes with warning. Ivy must have told him about our dispute the last time she came here. Then he sees her again unsupervised and that mixed with the fact that she probably bought him that beer he was drinking (which was highly illegal and enough ammo to use against Monique should I need any) seemed to have worked together to forge some sort of odd bond. The only things I had ever seen Scully show any concern for was his bar stool and his beer.

  He scowled and thumbed to the back room.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  I decided now wasn’t the time to worry about the friendship between my newfound sister and Amethyst’s oldest resident so I shoved that to the back of my mind and stepped in the back room.

  The scene came at me in quick snapshots. Ivy. The cards. The bloodstone. It was in the center of the table vibrating with such intensity the sound reached me ten feet away. Rage propelled me forward and I grabbed her forcefully.

  What I didn’t see was who sat across from her.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Bloodstones are powerful and that power is difficult to harness. They are audible oracles that hum when charged and open gateways to our ancestors and spirit guides. Symbolizing truth and justice, they were called the Warrior stone by ancient soldiers who wore bloodstone amulets to protect them from fatal wounds.

  Which was perfect because I was about ready to kill this kid.

  “Ow! What’s your issue?” Ivy asked.

  “What’s my issue? Are you kidding me? I thought you had more sense than this.” I pocketed the stone—my stone by the way—and reached for the tarot cards.

  “Those are mine!”

  I didn’t bother to face her as I collected the well-worn cards. How long had she been at this? Tarot reading was not on the Geraghty syllabus. If it didn’t come from within—if the magic wasn’t something you could see, touch, or feel, it was not respected or trusted by Birdie. “Not anymore,” I told her.

  Then I saw the money and my blood turned to lava.

  My eyes met hers and held them. “Are you hustling?”

  Ivy grew very quiet.

  “Answer me, Ivy. Right this minute.”

  “No.” She looked down at her shoes. “I just tell fortunes and do little good luck charms. You know, to practice. Sometimes people pay me for it.”

  So that was where she got her bankroll.

  I threw my hands up. “Next you’re going to tell me there’s a Ouija Board in your backpack!”

  “There is not! I’m not stupid, you know.”

  I took a step forward, wishing I could wave a wand and make her realize how dangerous a game she was playing, but a strong arm pulled me back.

  “Take it easy, kitten.”

  Leo only called me that when I was under extreme distress. Unfortunately, that was more often than either of us would have liked.

  He turned me around and regarded me like I was wearing a bright shiny bow he wanted to unravel.

  For a minute, nobody spoke. When I got my bearings I said, “Oh, so now you understand about this stuff? Do you have any idea how old she is?”

  Leo’s lips turned just at the corners, apparently amused at my frenzy. “Your little sister did mention that she’s not yet old enough to drive.”

  Ivy spoke up then. “I told Leo about how we met in the program?”

  I looked at her, puzzled. What the hell was she talking about?

  “I think it’s great you joined Big Brothers, Big Sisters,” Leo said.

  So now we were stealing, hustling and lying. Tomorrow, we’ll be making moonshine in the bathtub.

  Ivy’s face pleaded with me to keep her story straight so I said nothing. Why was she hiding our sisterly secret from everyone but me? Granted, Chance knew because we had to crash his place, but why no one else?

  Thankfully, John swung around the corner then and shoved a bottle of beer in Leo’s hand. “Hey, it’s the cat burglar,” he said.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon?” I asked.

  “Yeah, well you kinda spoiled that didn’t you? Anyway, Deirdre’s firing up the Karaoke machine,” he said. “That Sayer fella talked her into a duet.”

  The bars to “Summer Lovin’” crooned through the speakers then.

  “Oh, Stacy, can I sing next?” Ivy asked.

  Suddenly, I understood how Leo must have felt dating my family and me. Reality challenged, every last one.

  Exasperated, I said, “Do you not understand what’s happening here? What you’ve done?”

  She shrugged. “I get it, you’re mad. You’ll get over it.”

  John laughed and I back handed his shoulder.

  He didn’t flinch but he did point out that assaulting a peace officer was a felony. Naturally, Leo chimed in with the time he arrested me for launching a snowball at his cruiser.

  Ivy said, “You’ve been in jail? That is so cool.”

  “It’s not cool and it’s not what you think. I’m about as threatening as Mary Poppins.”

  “Didn’t Mary Poppins ply kids with sugar and make them fly off the roof?” John said.

  “Why are you here again?” I said.

  Leo explained that John was his mentor many years ago back in Chicago. Now he investigated judges, which is how he met Deirdre. She was a court stenographer.

  “This guy was your mentor? Really?” I asked and Leo just smiled.

  Monique made a Herculean effort to two-step through the doorframe then, carrying a shot that she handed to John. “For Deirdre,” she said.

  Her seashell bra must have been exceeding the manufacturer’s recommended capacity because the ladies were pointing in two different directions, clearly trying to escape.

  “You owe me a dance officer.” She looked right at me, put her arms around my former man and stuck her tongue down his throat.

  It took everything I had not to kick her fin out from under her.

  The storm of the century was brewing back outside. That’s another quality of Bloodstone—it wreaks havoc on the weather. Call a cab, call Chance or walk?

  “Why didn’t you just punch her?” Ivy asked after a minute.

  “Why would I do that?” I said, but I was really thinking, yeah, why didn’t I?

  “It’s so obvious Officer McHottie has it bad for you and she is a total tartlet. I would have sunk her to the ground.” Then she did some swift martial arts move that was most impressive.

  “Boy, are you going to like Cinnamon.” Luckily, my cousin was due back tomorrow.

  I couldn’t wait for Cinnamon to get home. I missed her but I also had a suspicion that she could relate better to Ivy than I could. She wasn’t that much younger than me, but she was craftier in the violence and hijinks department.

  “And he’s not a Mc anything, he’s Greek.” I looked down both sides of the street. Not many people around and no one I knew to ask for a lift.

  “Well whatever he is, I wouldn’t mind having one of those with a side of Chance for breakfast. Except, you know, my age,” she said. “How did you get so lucky anyway?”

  “It’s a small town.” I fumbled through my pocket for my phone.

  “I mean, I think you’re super pretty in a Maybelline ad sorta way, but s
till, two scrumpalicious boys at the same time?”

  Found the phone. “What? No. I’m not dating either of them.” No signal. Damn.

  The scent of rain was in the air and as cold as it was, it would probably freeze on its way down. That would not feel good on the skin.

  Ivy continued to babble. “They both want to date you, I can tell. You should play the field, live a little. Make them jealous. You know when I was in the eighth grade, Heather Hutchinson—have you ever noticed all Heathers are blonde? Anyway Heather liked Bobby and—”

  “Stop! Why the sudden interest in my love life?” That’s when I noticed she was rooting around in her backpack.

  I narrowed my eyes. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing.” Ivy shuffled her feet.

  “Hand it over.”

  “Fine.” She passed the backpack over to me and I looked inside. Something was glowing.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  The door to the club opened then and Leo said, “Do you two need a ride?” Just as a wide vein of light divided the sky followed by a thunderous jolt.

  “Sure!” Ivy said and winked at me.

  “No,” I said.

  “Come on, you’ll catch pneumonia out here,” Leo said. “Car’s right across the street.”

  Ivy bounced over to it and said, “Do you know where Chance lives?”

  Leo looked at me like I just stole his lunch money, but I didn’t worry about that on the ride home. If he could let Monique slobber all over him then I could sleep with (or near) anyone I wanted to.

  I did, however, worry about what was in Ivy’s bag that glowed.

  TWENTY-SIX

  “I would have picked you up.” Chance looked over my shoulder at Leo’s car.

  I gave him a look that left no room for further discussion on my choice of transportation.

  Ivy stretched and yawned. “I’m sleepy. Time for me to hit the sheets.”

  “Why don’t I tuck you in?” I followed the little red fireball.

  Ivy backed away slowly. “Nah, I’m a wee bit too old for that, sis.” She grabbed the backpack and made it just toward the first step that led to the basement. Chance was watching, a bemused smirk on his face.

  I stepped forward. “I think maybe I should stay downstairs with you. First night in a new place and all. You might have bad dreams.” It was a warning and the flicker in her eyes told me she knew it.

  Ivy tried to rush off but I called Thor who was a better linebacker than anyone on the Bears. He bounded up the stairs, puffed up his shoulders and anchored his rear onto the landing. He grumbled something of an apology to Ivy then trained his gaze on me.

  Chance said, “I’m going to bed. You two have fun.” He walked over and gave me a peck on the cheek that sent a surprising sizzle down my neck.

  Chance disappeared upstairs and Ivy turned to glare at Thor. “I gave you my Cheetos. I thought we were pals.”

  Thor whinnied and shrugged, but didn’t take his eyes from me.

  “Downstairs,” I ordered both of them.

  Thor yawned and stretched, then ambled down the stairs and crawled on top of Ivy’s bed. He circled three times and plopped down, his huge head nestled in a pillow, watching us.

  Ivy flipped the light on and tossed her bag on the bed. “Go ahead and search,” she said.

  That was too easy. What was she up to? I felt uncomfortable searching her things. If it were me, I would want the opportunity to explain.

  “Why don’t you just tell me what it is you don’t want me to see?”

  “Promise not to get mad?”

  “Nope.”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s the money. There’s probably more than you would expect.” She started talking faster. “Look, I didn’t know how long it would take to find you. I had to survive somehow. No one got hurt and I didn’t cheat anyone, I swear.”

  For the first time since we met, I looked at her like the frightened child she was. The barely-a-teenager-would-be-orphan. I was her once. Except I had family around me. Support and love. Ivy was alone. She knew this wasn’t a game. I could see it all over her. She wore confidence like a cloak, but that was purely a defense mechanism. She had to pretend this was a game because at the moment, she had no idea where life was leading her.

  I sat down on the bed next to her and held her hand. “I’m not mad about the money. You’re safe now, okay?”

  She nodded, sniffled a little.

  “Tomorrow, you and I are going to have our first lesson.”

  Her eyes grew bright with excitement and she began to speak, but I stopped her. “With Birdie’s supervision,” I said.

  “But why? You’re the powerful one.”

  Where was this girl getting her information? “Maybe I am and maybe I’m not, Ivy, but I have never been a teacher. I’ve never passed my knowledge along and since you seem to have learned just enough to be dangerous, we need to lasso and tame your talent before someone gets hurt. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.”

  “Now tell me what was glowing.”

  “I already did. The money.”

  “Why was the money glowing?”

  Ivy slid off the bed and bent over to unlace her boots. “It’s one of those pens that bankers use to make sure bills aren’t fake. Mom worked at a bank for a while so that’s how I know. If the bill is real the ink turns yellow. I guess it glowed beneath those neon bar lights.” She kicked off her boots and stretched. “I wanted to make sure no one in the bar ripped me off, so I scanned them with the pen.”

  She bewildered me every day, this one. I had witnessed Cinnamon run a marker over larger bills at the Black Opal on occasion, presumably for the same reason. “What would make you think that someone would pass you a fake bill?”

  Chance had left a tee shirt folded on the dresser. Ivy examined it, held it up to her chest and frowned at the Steelers’s logo. She slipped into it anyway. “I don’t know. It happens. Mom talked about phony money sometimes when she was on the phone.”

  It was strange to hear her talk about my mother the years after she had left Amethyst. It left me feeling empty. Discarded.

  Like phony money.

  I stood up and Thor opened one eye. “I guess I should get ready for bed too.” I walked over toward the light switch and Thor jumped down.

  “Stacy?” Ivy said. “Would you mind—just for tonight—sleeping down here with me?”

  I turned around and said, “Why not?”

  Four hours later, I knew exactly why not.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  The guttural growl of a nearly two-hundred pound dog awoke me from an empty dream. Thor’s head was low, targeting something small in the corner of the room. Slowly, I raised my head, then my shoulders and tried to focus my eyes.

  I couldn’t see anything around Thor’s body. A quick glance at Ivy told me she was sleeping soundly and smiling.

  Then all hell broke loose.

  Something chattered and squeaked and leapt through the air to land on the dresser. Thor roared and darted across the room, but whatever the flash of gray was, it was much faster than Thor. Faster even than my sight could follow.

  Then Ivy’s backpack bumbled and danced around the dresser top and I figured that whatever the thing in the room was, had burrowed inside her bag.

  Amazingly, the kid was still asleep. Still smiling.

  Thor threw a glance my way and I gave the hand signal for him to heel. He trotted around the bed and stood still by my side, ears erect, tail straight up in the air. I lifted the covers, extracted one leg after the other and slowly stood up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

  Ivy giggled and rolled over, still in dreamland, and the thing popped its head out from the bag. I couldn’t make out what it was, but it chirped little bird noises and its eyes were green marbles.

  There was something in its hand with glowing slash marks all over it. Thor tensed and released a long, threatening growl. The thing held whatever it was in the air—a bill from Ivy’s cash w
ad maybe—squawking and pacing back and forth along the dresser.

  From the bed, Ivy mumbled, “Petey,” and the thing on the dresser dropped what was in his hands, flew across the room, hovered above her for a split second then floated to a wall shelf.

  Thor flashed his canines and targeted the shelf. In one impressive leap, he took it and several of Chance’s old baseball trophies down to the carpeted floor in a thunderous wave.

  Ivy bolted awake and screamed. I ran for the light and flipped the switch.

  There was nothing but a puff of smoke where the flying creature once was.

  I stood there in silence, stunned. Even Thor was quiet but it was just we three in the room. Then Ivy said, “Was Petey here?” just as Chance came rushing down the stairs.

  “I heard screams. What—” Chance halted at the edge of the stairs as he surveyed the damage.

  I rushed towards him. “There was a mouse and Thor got a little overzealous chasing it. I’m sorry.” I shot Ivy a glance and she nodded.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  Chance walked over to where the shelf had been attached to the wall, tracing the hole with his hand. He put his fingers through his hair and sighed. “It’s not too bad. I can patch it.” Then he turned toward us. “You’re both okay though?”

  “Fine,” I said and he shook his head and shuffled towards the stairwell.

  After I heard the door shut at the top of the stairs, I turned back to Ivy. “Who is Petey?”

  She pulled her knees to her chest and said, “He was my first stuffed animal—a squirrel—when I was a baby. I slept with him all the time. We lost him once in a move. Sometimes I think about him and I can see him.”

  I stared at her for a second, then told Thor to go to sleep. He curled up by the foot of the bed and I stepped into the bathroom to wash my hands and gather my thoughts.

  This was more than I could handle, I knew that now. I needed Birdie’s help—like yesterday. First thing in the morning we would head over there, possibly stay at the inn if there was room. We had to tell her everything. Birdie had every right to know that her daughter might be in danger. And that she may have another grandchild.