1 Broken Hearted Ghoul (11 page)

“No. But he said he could do magic.” She shrugged. “He sounds like a sorcerer out of my game, Kingdom of the Elves.”

“I don’t think so. Have you seen him do magic?” I glanced at her thoughtful face.

“No. Have you?”

“No.”

“But Grandma is a ghost. It’s possible, right?”

“You’re too smart to only be seven!”

“Almost eight.”

I kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you later. We’ll decide if he’s a real sorcerer when we see him do magic.”

“Okay. See you later.”

We actually made it to school before Abe called me. I let it ring as I said goodbye to Kate, ignoring her curious gaze. Once she was out of the van, I pulled into the school parking lot to answer the call.

“What’s going on, Abe?” I asked when he answered.

“I have another assignment for you, Skye. It might be best to leave Debbie at home for this one.”

“Is it another dead zombie?”

“Yes. I’ll text you the address and then meet you there. Keep this quiet. Brandon will be with me, and he’ll bring the hearse for transport. No police or medical involvement. Are we clear on that?”

“Sure.” It looked like I was still catching some flak for yesterday’s fiasco. I wondered why Abe was involving me at all since he and Brandon were going to be there. It seemed odd, but then I had an odd kind of job.

He didn’t say goodbye. His number was just gone from my phone, like always.

I sighed as I thought about the zombie killer who seemed to be moving aggressively forward. Abe seemed happy to keep it quiet. If I’d still been with the police department, there would be a task force set up to catch whoever was responsible.

That’s why Abe was lucky to have me and Martin on his side.

I called Martin before I left the parking lot. I was going to tell him that there might be another zombie death like Mr. Welk’s. Maybe he could meet us there—accidentally. It was doubtful he’d had any time to check on those other deaths, or Mary Gable.

There was no answer. I shrugged, and re-started the van. It was early. He was probably battling a hangover this morning after his bender last night.

What would happen if too many of Abe’s people discovered they might not get their full twenty years? I wasn’t sure how many were pledged to him, but it could be an uprising in the ranks. How would he handle that?

I checked out Abe’s text with the address. It was right outside Nashville. It wouldn’t be a long drive.

But before I could leave the parking lot, the passenger side door opened, and Lucas got into the van.

“I was hoping you would still be about.” He frowned, and closed the door behind him. “It was only a short distance from the inn to join you here.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I thought it might be prudent to take me with you today.”

“No. I don’t do ride-a-longs. But thanks for offering.”

He didn’t open the door to get out. “My magic is cursedly lacking, Skye. But I can feel
something
closing in on you. There is most certainly a dark presence stalking you. I might be of service.”

“Something like what? What kind of dark presence?”

He shrugged. “I wish I could say with more certainty. I ascertain that you have been marked by something malevolent. It has its eye on you.”

“When did you ascertain this?” It seemed a little trumped up to me.

“This morn when I gazed at you, lady. I could see it around your fair face as a halo.”

“Why didn’t you say something at breakfast?”

“I admit to being—uncertain about this time—and your circumstance. After considering it, I decided I should regale you.”

“Thanks for telling me. Really.” I brought out my Beretta, the stun gun, and the tranquilizer gun. “But I’ll be fine, Lucas. I can handle myself.”

 “Even though you are stubborn, you should not be alone.”

“I won’t be. I’m meeting my boss, and another worker.”

“I’m not sure your zombie master, and another puppet, can make that kind of difference to this malevolence I sense.”

“But
you
can? Lucas, you aren’t even sure who or what you are.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.” I didn’t want to be cruel, but I also didn’t want to introduce him to Abe. I just had a feeling it would be a bad thing.

 His stiff chin came up, and he looked away. “I do not pretend to understand why I am unable to use my magic for more than vague illusions.”

“Which is why you should be at the inn figuring it out. You only have a few days, not to put too fine a point on it.”

“Yes.” He smiled and seemed a little confused. “You are correct, of course. You are able to shield yourself from such things. I should be looking to my own difficulties. My apologies.”

“Maybe I can help later when I get home. We could look it up on Wikipedia or something.”
Okay
. I was trying to throw him a bone. I still felt sorry for him.

His strange green eyes stared into mine. “I am uncertain what Wikipedia is, Skye, but I do not believe the answers are to be found so easily. In the meantime, I would bestow a small charm against evil, if that is permissible?”

“Sure.” I was pretty sure it wouldn’t matter, but I had nothing to lose.

I expected him to give me a talisman or something. Instead, he put his hand behind my head, and quickly brought my mouth to his. His kiss lingered for a few sweet seconds, sending sparks flying through me.

“How is that going to help?” I asked when he’d moved tantalizingly away.

“A kiss for luck. You wear my mark now. It cannot be erased. Anything evil that approaches you will know that you are under my protection.”

Smiling, I kissed him again. “That’s very sweet of you. Thanks.”

He seemed surprised. “I
knew
there was more between us than you wanted me to know.”

“I’ve made my choices, Lucas. I can’t abandon them now. Not for you, or anyone else.”

“I understand.”

He got out of the van then, and I watched him walk away from the school with his hands in his jacket pockets.
Jacob’s jacket pockets
.

I sighed.

Lucas was right. I felt something for him too.

Maybe I didn’t have any magic—besides the tattoo on my heel—but I knew what a man looked like when he could mess up a woman’s plans for the future. Lucas was definitely that man, the first for me in two years.

As far as his protection was concerned, I decided to stick with my own. He might have magic, but I’d taken him down with a stun gun. That told me my stuff was more reliable than his.

I glanced in the rearview mirror to see if there was really anything visible on my lips. The only thing I saw that shouldn’t have been there was a big, sloppy smile. I shook my head at that smile, and shut it down.

A school janitor was emptying the trash near the van. He was already staring at me in a suspicious way. I nodded to him, and left the parking lot.

Chapter Fourteen

The light coating of ice was gone as I drove back toward Nashville. The roads were wet, but clear. The blue sky overhead seemed to say that everything was okay. I’d never put much stock into signs and portents before I became a zombie. Things changed once I was dead, but still walking around.

I thought about what Lucas had said about something, or someone, evil marking me. There was no doubt that I came into contact with a whole truckload of weird all the time. I could have accidentally brought something with me.

A year ago, right after Addie’s death, one of the zombies who’d worked for Abe turned out to be some kind of werewolf. He was changing when I pulled in for the pickup.

I shot him three times with tranquilizer darts before he went down. It had been scary, dragging him back to the van. I wasn’t sure if he’d wake up and change again before I could get him to the mortuary.

I’d seen a werewolf. I knew zombies were real—maybe sorcerers too—what else was out there?

I put that thought out of my head as I approached the small, frame house where I was supposed to pick up the dead zombie. The yard was neat and clean, nothing special. There was a string of Christmas lights on the edge of the roof even though the holiday was long past.

It was then that I noticed the sheriff’s car parked in the drive on the side of the house. Had Abe called Martin too? I was pretty sure he wouldn’t call any other deputy.

I pulled out my Beretta as I got out of the van. It seemed quiet enough, but who knew if the killer was still hanging around? I approached carefully, hoping Martin would show his face, and we could deal with the crime scene together. It had been nice to work with someone again who knew what they were doing.

“Martin?” I called as I pushed open the front door. I hadn’t put on my latex gloves yet. My fingers were covered in the same greasy black film that had been at Mr. Welk’s house. Something the killer was doing left that residue behind. Maybe Martin could have it analyzed.

There was no response from him. That worried me right away. I knew he’d be on edge if he were in there looking around. He’d call out, and let me know where he was. It was standard law enforcement procedure.

“Martin? Are you in here?”

I turned the corner from the small entryway into the living room. I caught my breath, and my hand tightened on my gun, when I saw Martin’s body on the sofa.

“Don’t touch a thing.” Abe’s voice warned from behind me.

“Not Martin.” I swallowed hard on tears of rage and frustration. “I can’t believe it.”

“Put on your gloves, both of you.” Abe moved toward the sofa. I saw Brandon coming in behind him.

“Sorry, Skye,” Brandon said with a pat on the shoulder. “Were the two of you close?”

“No. Not exactly,” I whispered. “He’d worked with my husband a few times. I knew him.” I put on my gloves, and followed Abe.

“It’s like it was with Mr. Welk,” I said. “His heart is gone. No blood.”

“What about the gold ring?” Abe’s voice was as calm as though he was asking about something missing from a shopping list.

I searched the room around Martin, trying not to notice the fear frozen on his face. Brandon and I had to move him to find the ring. It dropped to the floor when we turned him.

“Yeah. That’s here too. Also, a black greasy film that I thought was soot yesterday when I picked up Mr. Welk. What does it all mean, Abe?”

“It means you should move him out of here as quickly as possible. We’ll talk when we get back to the mortuary.”

Being a little agitated at finding Martin that way, I bit back. “There better be some real answers. I don’t want to be strung along on this again. Martin was our best shot at figuring out why this is happening. I don’t think it’s an accident that he ended up like this.”

Abe took a quick breath. I thought he might snap at me as he had yesterday. “We’ll talk when we get done here, Skye. Let’s get moving before someone else comes around.”

There was an edge to his tone, but it was more like that of a long-suffering parent. He walked out of the house as soon as he’d finished what he had to say.

“What’s going on, Brandon?” I asked as we lifted Martin to put him into the black body bag.

“Why ask me? How should I know?”

“Because you do. Tell me.”

“Even if I could, I wouldn’t. It’s not my place.”

“How did Abe know it was Martin before he got here?”

“Someone called him. I don’t know who.” He glanced back to make sure Abe was still outside. “Just get your end, and let’s get out of here, huh?”

No wonder Abe didn’t want Debbie there. Knowing the dead person made it so much more personal. She was upset enough without really knowing what was going on.

What was it about the killer wanting the dead man on the sofa? Was there something to the location that was important? Or was it just convenient? And what about the gold wedding band? It certainly wasn’t Martin’s.

We got the body bag on the stretcher, and I let Brandon take it out.

This time, I took dozens of photos of the entire room with my cell phone. I hadn’t done so yesterday because I had no idea this needed to be an ongoing investigation. Seeing Martin dead, so soon after our discussion involving the killings with Abe’s zombie workforce, put my law enforcement mode up front.

I put on my gloves, and pocketed Martin’s cell phone. Then I got a sample of the black grease that was on everything, and tucked it into a plastic sandwich bag. It was odorless. I didn’t taste it.

There was a bottle of cheap wine on the table beside the sofa, and two glasses that hadn’t been used. I found plastic bags in the kitchen, and took all three items. I didn’t have a fingerprinting kit, but I grabbed some talcum powder from the bathroom, and used my makeup brush from my handbag to dust for prints.

They weren’t the clearest prints, but they might give us an idea of who was there with Martin when he died.

“You were expecting a lot of hocus pocus,” I said out loud to the absent killer as I took a photo of the odd print that didn’t match the most common print I’d seen—probably Martin’s. “You weren’t expecting an ex-police officer, were you?”

I followed Brandon outside. Before he left with the body, I put plastic bags over Martin’s hands to preserve any trace evidence that might be there. It didn’t look to me like there had been a struggle, even though it was hard to believe Martin hadn’t fought for his life.

Maybe he was too drunk. Maybe he’d passed out. There could be a hundred other reasons.

Looking at the huge wound to his chest, I hoped he hadn’t been conscious when it happened. It was a bad death anyway. Cancer might have been better.

When I’d done all that I could without a crime scene unit, I zipped up the black bag around him again. “I’m sorry about this,” I whispered as I as I closed the back door. “But don’t worry—I’ll find who did it.”

“Skye!” Abe called in an impatient voice. “We must leave!”

Once I was back in the van, I closed the door, started the engine, and pulled out of the drive. In my rearview mirror, I caught a glimpse of a sheriff’s car pulling into the spot I’d just left. They wouldn’t know what happened to Martin, just that he was gone. They’d think he’d abandoned the job with no notice. It was harsh for what others would make of it. There was nothing else I could do.