Chasing Midnight (Dark of Night Book 2) (13 page)

"All done,” I hollered, folding up the small stepladder.

Heather came over to inspect my work. “Looks good, sis. Just a few more boxes to unpack and we’ll be all set.”

“Why are you opening on Halloween, anyway?” I asked as we circled back to the stockroom.

With a long, silver knife much too formal for cutting tape, Heather slit open a large box and handed me a crate filled with mini star charts. “These go on the rack by the door,” she said and pointed. “And I chose Halloween because it’s the time of year when the veil between the worlds is weakest. There’s a reason the Celtics and Druids used to celebrate it. It’s a powerful night.”

“And there will be tourists everywhere,” I added.

She shrugged, and her bangle bracelets jingled. “I suppose. But my readings that night will also pack more punch. I’ll be able to be more… accurate. In tune.”

“Oh.”

There was a tap on the glass beside me, and I jumped. Phoebe was standing there, a pizza box in hand. Heather quickly let her in.

I pried open the box and let the smell of sausage and olives spill out, making my salivary glands go into overdrive.

“I’m starving,” I said, greedily snatching two big slices.

Heather perked up. “I forgot to mention that. You may be more hungry than usual right now. Being possessed is taxing on the body. You’ll need to eat more to keep your energy up.”

Phoebe froze mid-step. “Possessed?”

Heather handed her a paper towel. “Yes. Isabel’s possessed.”

Phoebe stared at her, and then looked over to me. She didn’t have to say anything. The word
s
what the hel
l
were all over her face.

“Long story short, Nana Elsie is a necromancer. She talks to dead people.” Heather popped a bite of tofu and veggie salad in her mouth. “She took Isabel to a séance because a spirit told her she witnessed a murder. Then the spirit possessed Isabel. Oh, and she had sex with Shane.”

“The spirit?” Phoebe asked, looking a little green around the gills at the thought.

“No, silly. Isabel.”

“Oh,” Phoebe said, still looking confused. Then she made a big O with her mouth. “Oh!”

She took a step forward, wrapping her Amazon-woman arms around me and squeezing tight. “I’m so happy for you!” She stepped back. “Except for the possession thing. That sucks. Are you okay? Is there anything we can do?”

I had already polished off one whole slice when Heather handed me a paper towel, so I grabbed another slice and sat cross-legged on the floor. “Don’t sound so worried. I’m okay, really. I mean, it doesn’t hurt or anything. But it is weird. I talk to myself a lot and honestly, I sort of feel…compressed inside. It’s like that ache you get right before a full-on headache comes, but it never gets to that point. I feel like I need to stretch a lot, but it never helps or makes the feeling go away.” I glanced up, saw that I had the rapt attention of both my younger sisters, and sighed. “Really. It doesn’t even break the top-ten list of weird stuff that’s happened to me. But I will say, Shane seems to like it,” I muttered, taking another bite.

“He likes that you’re possessed?” Phoebe asked, sitting beside me.

“No. Well, yes. He doesn’t know I’m possessed. I’m not really supposed to mention Nana Elsie being a necromancer to him. Apparently, it would be bad if the Conclave found out about her, and I don’t want him to have to lie to them. But Sue took over my body yesterday, and they hung out all day. He just sort of… connected with her. Me. Us. It’s…”

“Confusing?” Phoebe offered.

I was thinking of a harsher word but settled for, “Annoying.”

“Wait, what do you mean, she took over your body?” Phoebe backtracked, poking me with her spork. “Where did you go while she was having a play date with Shane?”

For the second time that day, I spilled all the gory details to a slack-jawed sister.

“Wow,” she said when I finished. “That was very… kind of you.”

She’s right. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that. It was so wonderful to feel the wind on my face, just one more time.

What could I say that wouldn’t make me sound all mushy? “She deserved it,” I said with a shrug.

“But this is good, right? Because she brought you and Shane back together.”

I groaned. “I still haven’t decided what I’m going to do about that.”

You aren’t going to push him away now, are you? Not when you’ve finally let your guard down.

I wasn’t sure what to say to Sue or anyone else about it, so I stuffed a big bite of pizza in my mouth.

Phoebe moaned and chucked her crumpled-up paper towel at my face. Heather just snorted.

“You need therapy,” Phoebe said seriously.

“Tell me about it,” Heather agreed, extending her arm. Dangling from her hand was a smooth, pink stone on a long cord. “Here, take this. It’s rose quartz. It’ll help you get in tune with your emotional needs.”

I took it and slipped it over my head. It was pretty, even if I didn’t believe it had any magical powers.

It has only the power you give i
t
, Sue whispered
.
But if you let yourself believe, if you have just a teaspoon of faith…

“Oh, it’s going to take more than a teaspoon. More like a cement truck,” I said out loud.

“I’m sorry, what?” Heather asked.

“Oh, no. Not you. I was talking to my little hitchhiker. Sorry. It’s great, thanks.”

“You’re talking to the spirit right now?” Phoebe asked, looking at me like a crazy person.

I puckered my lips. “Yeah. She’s rattling around in there, being my own personal, screwed-up cheerleader. Speaking of which, I really need to get going. I’ve got a body to find.” I stood up, tossing my trash in the can by the register.

Phoebe stood too, hugging me again, this time joined by Heather.

“This is all too weird,” Phoebe muttered as Heather opened the door for me.

“Says the woman with a werewolf for a boyfriend,” Heather retorted.

Behind me, I heard Phoebe respond, “Touché.”

i

The general crazy weirdness of my life aside, I had to get down to business. I drove straight to the police station, hoping to find Reggie. Every time I walked through the doors into the station, I was instantly seven years old again, delivering a basket of supper from the bakery to my dad while he worked late into the night. I couldn’t help but glance over at where his small, oak desk used to sit. Now it was a neat row of off-white printers, copiers, and fax machines but, if I closed my eyes, I could still smell the teak oil and stale coffee, and I could still visualize the ink smudged in the corner of his mouth from where he used to chew on the end of his pens. If anyone noticed my moment of nostalgia, no one said anything. I did get a few waves and grins as I made my way to the back of the room. Most of these guys and gals had known me through my father, a few more recently knew me as that crazy, pain-in-the-ass PI who lived with the vampire. So they tended to either treat me like I was still that little girl, or they bristled with irritation every time they saw my face.

Reputations could be such a bitch.

Officer Reggie Lukas was one of the few who treated me as an equal. Once upon a time, my father had been his mentor in the Charleston Police Department, long before Dad retired to take over the PI business from his father, my grandpa. Reggie was a big teddy bear of a man with a thick southern accent and an equally thick demeanor. His face was always shadowed with dark stubble, his eyes always circled with black/blue patches. He smoked like a chimney yet somehow managed to smell like Old Spice and fried chicken. He was also one of the most honest, kind men I’d ever known. When Dad couldn’t make it to my school play because he was busy busting crack dealers uptown, Reggie was there. After Dad passed and Mom needed to replace the aging furnace in the basement, Reggie was there. When my wedding day fell apart, Reggie was out looking for Shane to beat the shit out of him.

He was family.

Today, he sat behind his old, metal desk, hiding behind a massive pile of paperwork.

“Get back to work!” I demanded in my best deep, gruff voice.

It must have been weak because his head snapped up with a full, cheesy grin. “Sup’ baby girl?” he said, standing to wrap me in a big hug.

“Hey Reggie,” I said, returning the embrace.

“What brings ya down to this neck o’ the woods?”

I leaned against the corner of his desk. “I’m looking for a missing person. I was hoping you might be willing to take a look at the database for me.”

“Sure.” He sat back town in his creaky chair. Reaching up, he flipped his computer screen on and closed down the window he was working on. He logged in and pulled up the missing person’s database. “Name?”

I wound behind him, looking over his shoulder. “I don’t have one. Just a description.”

He paused, but he didn’t comment. “Okay then, shoot.”

I described the young woman Sue had seen as she whispered the details into my mind. “Late teens to early twenties, female, short, maybe five foot six, blonde hair. About seven months pregnant.”

He slowly filled in the blanks on the search form. Suddenly, a list of names and photos appeared. He scrolled down one page. I looked closely at each face until I saw the one I was looking for. “There. Stop.”

Reggie clicked on the picture and brought up the full report. “Looks like she’s only been missing a few days. I take it the family didn’t bring you in on this one?”

“A concerned citizen saw something suspicious.”

“And they came to you instead of calling the cops?” Reggie asked as I pulled a notepad and pen out of my purse.

“She’s a friend of mine. And she wasn’t sure exactly what she saw.”

“But you’re sure it’s this girl?”

I stared at the photo. There was no doubt it was the same woman. She was a little younger in the photo, maybe twenty, and a few pounds lighter, but it was unmistakably her. Reggie stood up, and I slipped into his chair.

Katy Fonte was a political science major at Charleston University. Her roommate, Joanne Collins, reported her missing when she didn’t show up at a rally they’d planned to attend together. I jotted down all her information. Her parents were divorced. Her father lived out of state but her mother was a local, so I took her name and address down too.

Reggie returned to his desk and handed me a copy of the official report. I tucked it into my notebook and stuffed it back into my bag.

“You realize there was nothing in the report about Katy being pregnant,” he pointed out, taking a sip of sweet tea from a glass on his desk as I scooted out of his chair.

“I did notice that.”

“Your witness sure about that?”

I nodded. “Yeah. She said it was pretty obvious. Maybe the roommate didn’t know, but I doubt it. More likely she left that bit out for a reason.”

He grunted. “This have anything to do with those vamps you’re mixed up with?”

His tone was disapproving. I knew he wasn’t talking about Shane either. Reggie was one of Shane’s only human friends. No, it was Xavier Ambrose that Reggie didn’t trust. And with good reason. Reggie suspected Xavier had a part in the minor disaster that had almost killed both Shane and I. Truth was, none of it was Xavier’s fault, but he was there and I’d lied to Reggie and the police about that. But it was for a good reason. That didn’t make it easy to do, and it sure as hell didn’t make me feel better about it.

“Nope,” I said, smiling up at him, glad to be telling the truth.

If Reggie were a superhero, he would have been Wonder Woman, minus the star-spangled spanky-pants. He had a glare ten times as effective as any lasso of truth.

“Alright then. Well, try to get your friend to come in and make a statement, will ya?”

“I promise, next time I see her in the flesh, I’ll bring her in.” I crossed my heart. He raised an eyebrow, probably suspicious of my wording, but he didn’t call me on it. “Thanks, Reggie.”

“Sure, sweetheart. But, I mean it, if you come across anything on this one, let us know, will ya?”

“Of course.” I took my information and the stabbing guilt in my heart and headed straight for Katy’s apartment.