Golem in My Glovebox (12 page)

“Anything?” Riley asked.

Darius shook his head. “Nothing so far.” He did a double take at Gris, then continued what he was doing, as if he hadn’t seen a tiny man sitting on Riley’s shoulder.

Kam popped her head through the open door of one of the vehicles. “Just dirt, empty cans and
Carly is boss
in here.”

We went through every one of the five cars. Nothing seemed to stand out.

“Wait,” I said. “Step back this way.”

We all stood in the dirt, several feet away from the cars, looking from an angle where we could see their hoods lined up.

Each had been painted with a symbol. The first was blue wavy lines. Water. Then in red, flames. Fire. A green leafy thing. Earth. A white spiral. Air. And last, a black skull and crossbones, like on a pirate ship. Death.

Water had a red circle around it with a line through it. Fire was circled, but no line.

“Dennis was an aquaphile,” I said. “And he drowned on dry land. Who had a power that’s fire related?”

Gris pulled a tiny notepad from his shirt pocket and flipped through it. “Ceecee Tanner. She’s a heatsync.”

“That sounds like fire,” I said. “What’s a heatsync do?”

Darius strode to the car and traced the fire symbol with his finger. “It means she can channel heat through her body and redistribute it.”

“What good is that?” Kam asked, circling the other cars. “Sounds kind of useless to me, except maybe on a cold night.”

Gris fanned the pages of his notebook. “Not every Aegis is as powerful as Miss Donovan and her mother.”

I squinted at the symbols. “So, each of these five cars represents a missing Aegis. Do we agree on that?”

“Agreed,” Riley said.

The others nodded.

“Okay,” I said. “So, water is gone. Fire is circled but not marked out. I think this might be the order he—or she—expects to kill them. Gris?”

“Yes.” He tapped the pages with the tip of a micro-pencil. “If earth is after fire, that would be Amanda Fairweather. She’s a terramotor—she molds earth and rocks. And then Rob Cavendish is an aviacom. He can direct air currents.”

Selfish or not, it was a relief to know that my mother was slated for last. As a necrofoil, she was kind of an anti-death. It didn’t take a genius to equate the skull and crossbones with her. It meant we had some time—not that I was willing to let other people die first. But it helped keep me moving to try to save the others if I wasn’t paralyzed in fear that the next body might be my mother’s.

I scanned the area. “That can’t be all we’ve got. Telling us who the next victim is without giving us anything else would be a dick move.”

Riley returned to my side and put his arm around me. “We’re talking about a murdering psychopath, sweetheart. Dick moves are probably all she’s got.”

“No,” I said. “There’s got to be more. She’s playing with me. This isn’t nearly taunting enough.”

We didn’t know for sure that the killer was a one-hundred-and-seven-year-old empath named Kathleen. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense, considering her age, but the rest rang true. For now, she was our only suspect.

I stepped away from everyone and looked around. The Volkswagens lined up, nose down in the dirt. Next to them, a small building stood ready to collapse under the weight of time, neglect, and layers of graffiti. Not much farther than that, a gutted service station stood watch through its broken windows.

I stretched my awareness toward the smaller building, searching for the presence of another person. It felt empty, but with a slight tinge of hate. Hate left behind not too long ago.

“There,” I said, making my way past the spray-painted frame of an old jalopy parked forever out front.

The boards creaked under my feet. As I started through the door, Darius grabbed my shoulder. “Let me go first, Aegis.”

I nodded and let him pass, then followed him through.

Sun streamed through the window frames, bouncing light into the corners. One window had bars, and sunlight left a slatted pattern across the floor. I wrinkled my nose. The room stank of old urine, cigar smoke and mold. Fresh hate echoed off the walls as if some recent visitor had left it for me as a gift.

The building was mostly one long room, probably once a roadside snack bar or souvenir shack. Whatever it had been was long gone, leaving nothing but four walls and a leaky roof.

“Over here,” Kam said. She stood at the far end, staring up at the wall.

I hurried over, with Riley and Darius in tow. My stomach did a backward flip with a half gainer. “Holy shit.”

The words were painted with a brush this time, rather than sprayed. The evidence lay on the ground, bristles dried in a puddle of red paint. Words covered the better part of a wall and dripped in a bloody, dramatic way.

Out in the desert

At a mountain gate

Caught between stalagmite teeth

Used as dino bait.

Red rover
,
red rover
,
let Ceecee come over!

Tag
,
Aegis!
You’re it!

Chapter Eight

The four of us sat in a nearly empty coffee shop, barely touching our breakfasts. My stomach was too full of bile and anger to have room for much else.

I dropped my fork on my plate in a puddle of syrup. “How the hell are we supposed to know where to go next? ‘At a mountain gate’ gives us nothing to go on.”

Kam poked holes in her hamburger bun with a sharp French fry. No surprise that she couldn’t eat. The idea of a hamburger at eight-thirty in the morning made me queasy. “Maybe she’s just not giving us any clues. Maybe all she wants is to play this stupid game with you, but not actually give you any chance of winning.”

“So, you’re saying she’s a cheater.”

Kam shrugged. “How many murdering psychopaths who also play fair can you name?”

To be fair, I wasn’t sure I could name any murdering psychopaths, fair ones or otherwise.

Riley sipped his coffee and made a face. “I miss Maurice’s coffee.”

Darius nodded. “I spend most of my time on the road. Maurice’s cooking was a vast improvement over the majority of my meals.”

We sat in silence, all four of us prodding food we weren’t going to eat. When my phone rang, interrupting the quiet, I jumped.

“Zoey, I need you in Idaho.”

“What?”

Bernice’s voice was sharp and impatient. “Idaho. I need you in Idaho.”

We’d already called Bernice before breakfast and told her what we’d found—and hadn’t found—at the Bug Ranch.

“Why Idaho? And when did this come up?” All three of my breakfast companions gave me questioning looks. I shook my head at them.

Bernice sighed. “I’m sorry. The goblins just sent me a message. A rash of chupacabra sightings are coming in from Pocatello. I need you and Riley out there to sort out the O.G.R.E. squad so they can stop it from happening and do some damage control.”

My gut clenched and I pushed my plate a few inches away. “Bernice, don’t you think we should be trying to figure out where the killer is planning to go next? Can’t the O.G.R.E.s wait?”

Bernice was silent long enough that I thought we’d been disconnected. When she spoke, goosebumps ran up my arms. “If the Covenant is broken, it won’t matter who’s trying to kill the Aegises. You’ll wish you’d been taken along with them. Get to Pocatello, Idaho. Please, Zoey.”

I swallowed hard and nodded, though she couldn’t see the motion. “What about Kam and Darius?”

“Let me talk to Darius.”

I handed the phone across the table, my hand shaking more from the dire tone Bernice used than from the words themselves. Though, the words were pretty chilling, too. “Your turn.”

He wrapped his enormous hand around the phone and held it up to his ear. “Darius.” He nodded, scowled, then nodded again. “All right.” He handed the phone back to me.

I looked at the display. Bernice was gone.

“That’s it?” I asked. “Go to Idaho? What did she say to you?”

“Tuscaloosa.”

My heart sank. “We have no clue where the next victim might be. And now Bernice is sending us half a country apart. What if we miss a clue?”

Riley grabbed my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It’ll be okay. Have some faith in the universe. We don’t know what to do next anyway, so we might as well do some good while we wait.”

I tried not to roll my eyes or make any other petulant moves. “I guess.”

Kam dabbed at a bit of butter on her sleeve. “Damn. That’ll stain. Where’s Tuscaloosa?”

Darius swallowed the dregs of his coffee and unfolded his bulk from the booth. “Alabama. Long drive. If we leave now, we’ll get there around nightfall.”

Kam cringed and slid out. “Yeah, we’d better get going, then. I hate when he changes in the car.”

I could not for the life of me imagine being cooped up in the cab of a pickup with Darius in the first place, let alone when the sun set and he went from big scary guy to terrifying mothman.

We paid the bill and said our goodbyes in the parking lot.

Kam gave me a hug. “It’ll be all right,” she said. “Riley’s right. This wouldn’t be a fun game for this dame if you weren’t where she wanted you to be. You’ll get a clue when you need it. And when you need us, we’ll haul ass to be wherever you need us to be.”

I gave her a weak smile and hugged her back, hard. “Thanks. I hope you’re right. And I hope we can get to Ceecee in time. I prefer rescue work to sleuthing.”

Riley hugged her goodbye, and I hugged Darius. “We’ll find Clara alive,” he whispered. “I swear it.”

I let his words comfort me. When a mothman made a vow, the universe was obligated to listen, right?

As they got into their beat-up truck, Kam’s voice drifted across the parking lot. “Tuscaloosa’s in the south, right? Would it be too much for me to dress in a southern belle gown? They still wear hoop skirts there, right?”

* * *

The trip from Amarillo to Pocatello took two days. Unlike Kam and Darius, Riley and I were humans. We had to sleep for more than a few hours a day.

We didn’t exactly meander up there, but we didn’t rush, either. No one had been hurt, and to be honest, we both were sort of expecting Bernice to call and send us looking for Ceecee—or Ceecee’s body—at any second.

But that didn’t happen. We made it to Pocatello, Idaho, without anything derailing us and sending us in another direction. It looked like we would be working a different sort of job for Bernice until the killer decided she wanted to play again. The thought gave me chills.

“Why couldn’t I have a useful skill instead of feeling other people’s emotions?” I asked, coming out of the bathroom after a shower. “Divination or mind reading? Something like that.”

“Your gift has saved all our asses more than once,” Riley said, taking the towel from me and drying my hair with it. “You have what you have. And I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”

I closed my eyes and leaned into him. “That’s sweet. But so far it’s not helping us one bit on this particular problem.”

He handed me my towel and kissed my forehead. “Buck up, little lady. We’re going out.”

“Out? We just got here.”

“Bernice called while you were in the shower. I’ve got a lead on where we might find the absentee O.G.R.E. squad.”

“Seriously? Cool. Should I get dressed up?” I knew this was a silly question. Neither of us had brought much with us, thinking we were making a quick run to Kansas and back again. No evening gowns in my duffel bag. I should’ve asked Kam if I could borrow something when I had a chance. She seemed to have a bottomless wardrobe.

“No, get dressed down.”

I folded my arms over the towel I had wrapped around my body. “Where exactly are you taking me?”

He grinned. “A seedy bar in the worst part of town. It’ll be great.”

I fixed him with a dead stare. “Awesome. You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet.”

* * *

The bar wasn’t nearly as seedy as I’d expected. My boots stuck to the floor less than I’d have thought, and the table we grabbed only had a few dirty glasses on it. The server was quick to clear them before she took our order.

I’m not a big fan of beer, but it seemed more appropriate in the dark, smoky room than a girly drink with a fancy umbrella in it. No telling how old the cherries might be.

We sipped and watched as people came and went. According to Bernice, we were looking for a guy named Frankie the Imp. I had no idea if Frankie would turn out to be an actual imp, or even what an imp might look like.

“Sounds more like a gangster than a biker,” I said.

“He might not be a biker. I have no idea.” Riley watched a plate of food go buy and licked his lips. “Do you want onion rings? I want onion rings.”

Our server had introduced herself as Janis when we sat down. Riley smiled at her now, and she came running.

I totally understood. The first time he smiled at me I nearly fell off the sidewalk.

“Another draft?” she asked, grinning so wide I thought her face might crack open. She completely ignored me, of course.

The sparkle in Riley’s gray eyes gave away his amusement. I let him have his moment. It didn’t hurt me at all to have some other woman flirt with my boyfriend. In fact, you never knew when it might come in handy.

“Any chance we could get some onion rings, Janis?” he asked, beaming up at her.

“Absolutely, sweetheart. Anything else?”

He leaned toward her and touched her hand with one finger. She bent closer to hear him.

“Would you let me know when Frankie the Imp comes in? We came an awful long way. I’d hate to miss him.”

Her smile faltered, and she flicked her gaze toward me and back to him. “You’re cops, aren’t you?”

She looked so disappointed, I wanted to hug her. I wasn’t sure why. Whether we were cops or not didn’t affect her chances with Riley.

“Not at all,” Riley said. “We’re...” he trailed off, making a show of looking left and right, as if he might be overheard. “We’re paranormal investigators. We’re hoping to interview him, but we’re trying to keep it quiet right now.”

Her eyebrows rose. “You mean, like that ghost-hunting show?”