Slipping the Past (17 page)

“If you say so. I don’t have any memories of it.”

Nate shrugged. “After tall-dark-and-nasty sucked—”

“Let it go, Nate.”

“I’m just saying he isn’t the best person for you to get involved with.”

Jocelyn reached over and grabbed Nate’s hand giving it a squeeze. “You’ve got to stop being so protective. I can take care of myself.”

“I know, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He sighed and nodded at the holo, changing the subject. “A nineteen-year-old woman by the name of Josephine Laurette Smith was burned alive for bewitching a man named Caleb Dover and causing him to slaughter his sister-in-law and her children.”

“Great. So you’re telling me I’m not just a killer but a home-wrecker?”

“Hold on. Let me tell the story. I said I can track your past life crimes. Home-wrecking isn’t a crime the DSLE is interested in. Bewitching isn’t murder, it’s the result of the hysterical atmosphere of the time and won’t be hard to disprove. It’s the murder I’m concerned about. Somebody killed them and we need to find out who. I don’t believe it was….” He dropped the next thing he was going to say. His gaze darted over her shoulder and back to her face before he shut his mouth and looked away.

“Go on,” Gabriel urged from behind her.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Nate grabbed the holo and turned it away. He slid his headphones back on his ears and began touching and dragging data like the reaper wasn’t present.

Gabriel grabbed a chair, spun it around backward, and straddled it. He turned the reader so he could see. One hand reached over, plucked the ear-mics off Nate’s ears, and crushed them to powder. He sprinkled the debris on the table.

“Now continue.”

Nate started to get up and Gabriel reached out and clamped down on his shoulder, slamming him back into his seat.

“Sit down.”

“I’m not talking to you.”

“Okay. Have it your way. There’s a warrant out for your arrest and I can use any method I see fit to interrogate my prisoner.” He held up his hand and sparks danced from fingertip to fingertip. “Standard procedure. Did I ever tell you I have a gift with kinetic energy? Energies in general. I can control its path, twist it, use it as a force field, charge things, reverse polarity—but I can’t make it disappear. It’s got to go somewhere. All energy has one thing in common. It needs an entrance and an exit. You might want to hold on to something. This will hurt.”

“Warrant?” Nate turned to her. “Joce, what’s he talking about?”

“It’s true. Ian’s hot on your trail for the knock you gave him to the back of the head,” Jocelyn said.

“Can he do that?” Nate turned to Gabriel, clearly surprised. “I was defending—”

“A criminal. Yeah, he can do that. Assault and battery, aiding and abetting a fugitive, and being in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong Enforcer.”

“Reaper,” her brother corrected.

“I really don’t like that term.” The sparks on Gabriel’s fingers whipped into the air, making Nate’s hair stand on end. “Don’t call us that.”

He swallowed and gave Jocelyn an anxious glance. “You want to tell your boyfriend to back off?”

“You’re making him nervous. Please. You don’t need to threaten him.” Jocelyn rested her hand on the Enforcer’s shoulder. “He’ll talk. Won’t you?”

“If you put it that way.”

Gabriel nodded. The sparks stopped, but Nate’s hair continued to stand on end. He ran his hand over his head in a futile attempt to push the rebel strands down. He eyed the tall man, who’d folded his arms across his chest and now stared.

“As I was saying…would you not stare? It’s creepy.”

Gabriel continued to focus on her brother, his eyes taking on a hard edge.

“Please?”

He shifted his gaze to the holo screen.

Nate sucked in a deep breath and collapsed against the back of his chair. “Where was I? Yeah. There was this woman, accused of murdering a family with witchcraft in 1690. Seems Josephine Smith was also a redhead, like Joce. So…I searched for redheaded killers and came back with the standard Bonnie, as in Bonnie and Clyde, but it also led me back to this Josephine Smith chick. I realized a couple of things from it. One, her past-life names have always started with Jo, and two, she likes to be a redhead, which I already figured was the case. And since red hair is hereditary, I followed the family line and found two other cases of murder. Both by redheads, and yes, by women with names that start with Jo. The first murder back took place in England, around 1102, give or take a decade, and was a clear case of innocence, where it was proven after execution. Then there was this one.” He punched a key and brought up another screen. “Josette Knapp. You remember her, Joce?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t remember much after the convenience store. A little here and there.”

Nate shot Gabriel a nasty look. “I’ll fill in the deets then. You said the bodies of her husband’s victims were buried behind the grove.” He pointed at the plantation, now a high-class bed and breakfast. “This is the place. According to what you saw in the vision, she killed him in self-defense. The bodies will prove it.”

Jocelyn nodded. “It’s coming back. Lucas cut up his body and fed it to the pigs to hide the crime. We freed the slaves and made a run for the northern borders.” Jocelyn sighed and turned to Gabriel. “They hung you for trying to protect me.”

Nate brought up the screen with Josephine again, from Salem. “This is the only one I don’t have hard evidence for. She was found in possession of a bloody knife.” He ran a hand through his hair, finger-combing the static strands. “Caught in her lover’s residence as testified to by the local constable. Her lover’s sister-in-law and her two children were murdered, according to everything I’ve been able to pull up. There’s supposed to be a journal written by the only surviving child, who was sixteen at the time of the murders. I think the daughter pointed an accusing finger at the constable and ended up getting tried as a witch. The really freaky thing about it all,” he switched screens, “a death portrait of one of the children looks remarkably like…well, see for yourself.” He pointed at a picture of a small painting of a boy. A child posed in death, for his family to remember him in life and an odd custom of the times, one that produced more questions than answers.

“Kid.” Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “Looks like you’ve been a pain in my ass for a long time.”

“Freaky, huh? Jocelyn was accused of murdering this child, his sister, and the mother.”

“I killed you?” Jocelyn’s eyes widened.

“I don’t think so. The sole survivor, Liberty Dover, saw it all and it’s in that journal. We only need to get our hands on the document to prove it. Everyone knows the witch trials were a grievous injustice. They know that those tried for witchcraft were falsely accused. The murders are the only things that come into question.”

“Who’s the guy she was accused of having the affair with?” Gabriel asked.

“Oh, that’s easy,” Nate said and typed in a name. Another primitive painting, in the style of Puritan times, came up. Amber eyes, dark hair. “He look familiar? Caleb Dover. His portrait is in a museum in Salem, part of a witch exhibit and the same that has the journal. The murdered woman was his brother’s widow.”

“Gabriel,” Jocelyn murmured and reached out to touch the image, pressing her fingers through the holo and closing her eyes. Nothing. She pulled her hand back and sighed. “I can’t see anything.”

“I can,” Gabriel whispered. “I don’t know why. Slipping the past isn’t my thing.”

“No, you specialize in frying people and tossing them around like a rag doll,” Nate snapped.

“Maybe it’s because of the loss….”
My sight
. Gabriel stared at a wall of books, as though looking through it. She knew that feeling—had been there a time or two.

“Maybe,” Gabriel mumbled. His eyes glazed over and his voice slurred. He gripped the back of the chair so tight, his knuckles turned white. “This is odd. It’s never happened.” He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. “I’m seeing it through your eyes, Jocelyn. As if I’m there.”

“It’s okay. Take a deep breath and let it come.”

“Widow Dover.” Josephine nodded to a pretty blond woman, holding her two young children’s hands as she left the meeting house with the Sabbath crowd.

The woman’s gaze traveled up and down. A sneer curled her lip. “It’s Goodwife Dover, Mistress Smith. Stay away from my family. You’d do well to remember the sermon today. It talked of coveting what thou canst have. Coveting leads to lust—lust to adultery. It’s the work of the Devil.”

“Pray, did I hear thee correctly? I am a God-fearing woman. I most certainly do not covet and I’m no adulteress.”

“Then why doest thou watch my husband so? And he—he watchest thou. Hast thou be-spelled him? Perhaps thou art a witch?”

“Husband? Goodwife, indeed. There have been no vows exchanged. Thou art but a greedy widow. He doesn’t want you.” Josephine leaned in close to Widow Dover, so the others couldn’t hear. “Mind thy tongue, Widow. Thou art not his wife. I’m not a witch but I’m not helpless either. Be careful of whom thou accusest. Judge not, lest thou be judged.”

“A fine one to quote scripture, thou art. We shall let God judge, then.” She brushed past, dragging her children with her. “Stay away from my husband or thou wilt suffer more than God’s wrath.”

“
Fussock
,” Josephine murmured and watched her go. “He is not thy husband.” She snorted. “And she thinks I’m the witch?”

“Mistress Smith.”

Josephine glanced over her shoulder to see Constable Jones, their spiritual leader. Curious. The man looked remarkably like Ian.

“I beg a word with thee.”

Sharp pains stabbed through his skull. Gabriel shot backward, snapping off a piece of the chair. He wobbled and Jocelyn and Nate caught his arms. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. That was….” He cringed and sucked in another breath. “Unpleasant.”

“It takes a moment, but the pain will ease.” Jocelyn rubbed his shoulder.

Gabriel opened his eyes, breathing shallow. “It’s gone. I can’t see anymore.”

She leaned in close. “What did you see?”

He shook his head and set the broken section of the chair on the table. Should he tell her that Ian had been in the vision? No. Something about it seemed off. Until he knew what was going on, it would be better to keep that information quiet. “Nothing useful. A Puritan catfight.”

Nate smiled. “Toxic. How do I get to have one of these visions?”

Both Gabriel and Jocelyn turned and glared.

“What? You two get to have all the fun. Cool powers, past visions….”

“It’s not fun, Nate. Do you remember where my last vision put me?”

Nate turned from her, his eyes lit with excitement as he addressed Gabriel. “Did they rip each others’ clothes off? Tell me they bitch-slapped.”

Gabriel shook his head. “They were arguing about coveting. All kinds of accusatory thees and thous. Real intense.”

“That’s a catfight? Dude, you were gypped.”

A trickle of blood ran from Gabriel’s nose. He reached up and wiped it away. “Yeah, that’s it. Gypped.”

“Why are we getting a room here?” Nate walked out of the bathroom and over to the window. He glanced out and then yanked the curtains shut. The room was in a bad neighborhood, not the cleanest, and besides being cramped, the hot water wasn’t working. To make matters worse, he had a fear of heights and this building had over one hundred twenty floors. The thing was scabbed together some two decades ago as housing for the city’s poor, and even they hadn’t wanted to live there. Some slumlord scooped it up and rented rooms by the hour. For all he knew, a stiff breeze could blow it over. Even worse, Gabriel had decided to rent a room somewhere in the middle. The ground floor would have sufficed.

“This isn’t our room, it’s yours.” Gabriel handed the keys to Nate. “You need to split from Jocelyn and hide. If you don’t know where each other are, Ian won’t either. I’ll find you and Jocelyn as needed.”

“This isn’t some excuse to get my sister alone?” Nate glanced around the room and sighed. “Couldn’t you have gotten something nicer? A little lower to the ground?”

“Don’t bitch. It’s all I could find on short notice.”

“Sure, and what did you get for Jocelyn? Queen-sized suite? Does it have one of those vibrating heart-shaped beds that spin, and a tub for two?”

“Yeah, and a velvet swing.”

“Fuck you. Stay away from my sister.”

“If you see Ian, don’t talk. Run.” Gabriel shoved a piece of paper in his hand. “You can reach me at this number. Stay in the room, Nate. It’s not safe out there. I’ll come and get you as soon as I figure something out.”

“Gee, thanks. I feel so protected.” Nate tucked the paper in his pocket. “You hurt Jocelyn again and I’ll kill you. I don’t care if you carry a charge that can knock out a rhino. I’ll take you down.”

“I’d love to see you try.” Gabriel shut the door and shifted to where he’d left Jocelyn. She had both hands pressed against a storefront, staring at a green dress. Her breath fogged the glass and in the middle of it she’d drawn an upside down heart.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’d look like in something like that,” she murmured, continuing to stare at the garment.

Gabriel studied it. Long, with a bodice that ended just below the breasts. The emerald silk had to be expensive. The design came from another time, something a woman would wear to seduce all the attention in a room to herself. There was only one way she could look in something like that. “Unforgettable.”

The past brushed his mind, awakening forgotten memories. Gabriel’s vision began to fuzz and he shook his head and blinked.

“You shouldn’t have come here looking for me.” His hand slipped up her skirt, stroking along the ribbon garter that kept her stockings up, moving from silken fabric to silken skin. “I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“That’s why I came.” Joelle arched her spine, exposing her throat and breasts, which strained to pop free from the décolletage of her gown. The birthmark peeked at him from above her left breast. “I need you.”