Knead Some Space

by Harley Gordon

  The call to Deacon went to voicemail, so Novah explained quickly and told him to meet her at her place.

  Novah raced to her truck, Samantha already inside, and with a squeal of tires, she was headed back home.

  “Do you want me to go back and keep an eye on them?” Samantha asked.

  Novah shook her head. “No. Stay with me. With all this new information we’ve been getting I still don’t know if psychics can hurt ghosts. I’m not taking a chance with you.”

  “Okay. I didn’t really want to anyway.”

  Novah’s grip on her steering wheel tightened as fear and anger fought for dominance inside her. “You know I’ll never ask you to do something that scares you and you never have to offer.”

  “I know. But you do so much for me. I’ve seen how expensive your electric bill is because of me.”

  Novah’s heart broke a little.

  “I’m happy to pay it. I want you to enjoy your time and not be completely bored. And I take very hot long showers, so it’s partly my fault too.”

  “Fine. I’ll try to stop feeling guilty.”

  “Good. Because I can afford it and I use more than my fair share of the electricity. You don’t need to worry about any of that.” Novah needed to be more careful with what Samantha saw around their home.

  “What are you going to do if they’re still there?”

  “I have a tire iron in the bed of my truck I plan to introduce to their skull.”

  “Brutal.”

  “Yep.”

  Novah was sure she’d feel horrible for saying that to Samantha later, but at the moment she was too upset to censor herself.

  “We’re here. Stay here with the truck and wait for Deacon. He needs to know what’s going on.”

  “Fine.”

  Novah screeched to a halt, ripped the key out of the ignition and leapt from her truck, only stopping to grab the tire iron before she ran for her apartment building.

  Most everyone was at work, so it was a smart time to break in and Novah thankfully had no one see her or stop her or ask questions as she sprinted through the lobby and up the stairs to her floor.

  When she got to her door hanging off the hinges, she skidded to a stop, holding the tire iron like a bat and peeked around the corner of the door, listening hard for any sounds inside her place.

  But only a still silence reached her ears.

  She crept inside, taking small silent steps, one at a time, avoiding broken glass and torn papers scattered across her floor.

  Novah choked down the lump in her throat as she took in her trashed living room. She did a sweep through the entire apartment, barely holding back tears of rage until she determined she was alone.

  Whoever did this was fast.

  She didn’t pass anyone on her way up here and it only look five minutes for her to get here from her shop, if that.

  How did they do so much damage so quickly?

  The damage was kept to the living room and all the files she and Deacon had gone through were destroyed. The cipher was safe and the USB since Novah brought it with her to her shop.

  Which meant they didn’t get what they wanted and would probably try again.

  Novah pulled the USB from her pocket and grabbed her older computer from her closet in her bedroom since her new one was destroyed. She still used it for Samantha sometimes, so it only took a minute to boot up and had plenty of battery left.

  She plugged the USB she hadn’t bothered with yet in and waited for it to download to the hard drive. Once they started loading, she clicked through, ignoring the information she’d already seen in the files Deacon brought over.

  But at the end, she found something that hadn’t been in his files.

  They were idiots.

  She’d assumed the USB was just a backup copy of everything Rachel had hidden in her floorboards. But there was one more thing she hadn’t added to the files.

  The letter.

  And as the contents of the letter registered, what happened to Rachel clicked fully into place in Novah’s mind.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Novah shot Deacon a text, explaining what she found and attaching a photo of it just in case, telling him what she was about to do.

  Even though what she was about to do was borderline idiotic.

  But they invaded her house, her sanctuary. Broke her things. All because of revenge and greed.

  No way was she letting them get away with it.

  Novah scooped her tire iron back up, figuring it was the better option than anything else she had in the house, since she wasn’t much for guns.

  She poked her head back out into the hall, making sure the coast was still clear and slid back into the stairwell, hurrying down to the third floor.

  Another empty hallway led her to Rachel’s old apartment. She tapped at the door, but made sure she stayed out of sight of the peephole.

  The door opened a crack and Novah slammed into it, knocking Martha back into the wall.

  “What are you doing?”

  Novah shook her head. “What are you doing? Killing your ex best friend? How did it feel finding out after you killed her that she never slept with your husband? That it was your husband who was the creep who tried to get her into bed and she humiliated him.”

  Martha scrambled backwards, panic pouring out of her. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “I was at McDonalds when she was killed. I couldn’t have done it.”

  Novah took another step towards Martha. “Your phone was at McDonalds. But you were just a couple alleys down from my shop. Rogelio kept your phone so your GPS would show you were miles away at the time of the murder. You two planned it together. You, for revenge. Rogelio, for the money he didn’t end up getting. And Rachel planned your downfall beautifully.”

  “You’re wrong. You can’t prove it.” Martha sniffled.

  “Did you know Rogelio already knew Rachel didn’t sleep with your husband? He’s always known. He set you up. He’s the one who told you it happened, right? And my guess is he’s fed your need for revenge all these years later. He convinced you the two of you could get back at her and then start fresh with her money. But he wasn’t going to share the money with you. He made sure to send you to do the actual murder since he figured he’d be the number one suspect, so they needed absolute proof of his alibi. But where was your photo? Why just your phone? You knew Rachel had something that could get you in trouble and you were both worried I now had it. Which I did. But I’m not an idiot who left it at home. I kept it on me. I might not have figured it out if you hadn’t broken into my house. I’d already moved off both of you as suspects. But you couldn’t leave it alone.”

  Martha shook her head, ugly tears pouring down her face. “No. That’s not what happened. We didn’t do anything. I got over what happened with my husband a long time ago.”

  Novah shrugged. “You can tell it to the cops. Because I already called them. And sent the proof to them I found from Rachel. She must have somehow known you two were coming after her.”

  Martha’s face crumpled and her shoulders slumped as the realization she wasn’t getting out of this hit her. “Ugh. She was always eight steps ahead. No matter what, you couldn’t surprise her. You couldn’t win against her. She just knew things. Knew things that were impossible. For the longest time, I thought she seduced my husband. I left him because of it. And I lost my friend. When I read that letter, I kept trying to deny it, certain she was still lying. But she wasn’t lying, was she?”

  “No. The other Diaz is the liar. Where is he?” Novah asked, her voice hard.

  Martha blubbered. “I don’t know. He was supposed to be back by now.”

  “He’s been arrested outside.” Deacon’s voice behind them made them both jump a little.

  Novah clutched her chest. “Merciful Zeus, you scared me.”

  Agent Smith grimaced, his eyes looking her up and down, searching for wounds. “The info you
sent was enough for us to question him, but when he tried to run, it made things a lot easier. And I got to listen to the end of her confession as well, so I’d say we’re all done here.”

  Rachel materialized and smiled sadly. “I knew you’d figure out who killed me. I won’t be around much longer, but I’ll visit one more time to give you the location of the real names to all those psychics so you can help them.”

  Novah nodded to let Rachel know she understood.

  Martha leaned against the wall, her face in her hands as she sobbed.

  “I’ll walk her out and then come and take your statement at your place, Ms. Miller.”

  Right. He was pretending to be FBI. She had to go along with that story for now.

  Novah cleared her throat. “Thanks, Agent Smith.”

  He approached her slowly and held his hand out towards her. “I’ll uh...also take the tire iron for now, if you don’t mind.”

  Novah blinked down at the metal bar in her hand. “Right. Yeah.”

  She’d completely forgotten she was still holding it.

  “You all right?” Deacon asked in a low voice.

  “Yeah. Fine.”

  “I’ll be up in two minutes.”

  Novah nodded and watched as he took Martha by the elbow and led her from the apartment, Rachel following.

  With a harsh sigh, Novah trudged upstairs to deal with the mess at her house.

  Samantha waited in their living room with terrified eyes. “Are you hurt?”

  “Not at all. And I didn’t need to hurt anyone else either.”

  “Good. You found the killer?”

  “Yeah. Can I tell you about it later? Right now, I need to let Talia know what’s going on and start cleaning this up. Deacon will be here soon too to go over everything so you can find out then.” Novah pulled out her phone and sent Talia a text, giving her the highlights of what was going on and asking her to cover one more time.

  Samantha nodded. “Works for me. I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “And I’m sorry for all this and for scaring you.” Novah wanted to cry when she looked at her ghost kid hovering above her destroyed living room.

  “It’s not your fault. It’s theirs. Whoever hurt Rachel.”

  “Agreed.”

  Deacon stepped through through the broken door. “You two can’t stay here tonight.”

  Novah bit back a groan. “I guess we can stay with Talia.”

  “Good. I’ll help you get this cleaned up, but it’s not safe.”

  A sudden thought struck her and she almost slapped herself in the forehead. “Oh my mother of moons, where’s Armstrong? In the panic, I forgot all about him. I’m the worst cat mom.”

  Samantha smiled. “He’s okay. He’s been hiding under your bed.”

  Relief made Novah slump. “Can you go try to coax him out? He responds better to you.”

  “Sure.”

  “So you’re okay?” Deacon asked once Samantha left the room.

  “I’m a little shaken, but I will be.”

  She felt like she might throw up, but hopefully after a few donuts and some sleep, she’d be steadier.

  Deacon considered her with his head tilted. “You know, we could really use someone like you in the FB1. You figured this all out on your own. Would you be interested in joining us?”

  Part of her was intrigued with the idea, but with adrenaline still coursing through her, Novah wasn’t ready to make any decisions.

  “No. Not right now, anyway. This was a lot and I have a business I love. Maybe if you need help on a case by case basis, I can consult occasionally? I don’t know. But I will get you the information from Rachel.”

  Deacon looked disappointed, but nodded. “Fair enough and thanks. I’ll be in touch.”

  “I thought you needed my statement?” Novah asked.

  He shook his head. “I’ll take care of it. You might get called in for follow up questions, but for now, pack a bag and get to your friend’s house. I’ll come by tomorrow to help you clean this up.”

  Gratitude swelled inside her. “Okay. Thanks. See you tomorrow, I guess.”

  “Yeah.” He waved and left without a glance back.

  Armstrong rubbed against Novah’s legs and she bent to pick him up and bury her face in his fur.

  She finally had answers. More than she ever thought she’d find.

  Now Novah just had to figure out what to do with all those answers.

  A problem for another day.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

  When she isn't writing or searching the woods for unicorns, Harley trains hard to become a Lady Knight. She's also looking for a part-time job hugging pandas.

  Follow her on Instagram.

  OTHER NOVELS:

  Black Sheep of Faery Books 1-4

  Crime of Spelled Ink

  Knead Some Space

  Watch of Nightingales - written under the name Honor Gable