I sucked in a quick breath, my shoulders going stiff. Why hadn’t I thought of that? Quinn had talked about how the little bit she’d told me was ‘skating around breach of contract’. What was the PSA?
“Simms, have you heard of the Preternatural Science Agency?”
He tipped his chin back a little. “Uh, yeah. I have but so have you. That portal generator you have is their tech.”
My heart started to pound. “The portal generator that was being used by people in the sex trafficking trade?” I hissed, furious as that connection was made.
Simms shrugged. “Someone else in my department did an investigation into the PSA. They did create the tech but they sold it through the proper channels. The people who bought it even had the right paperwork to make it appear they were a legitimate business. I don’t consider it their fault the way their tech was used.”
I scowled despite the fact he was right. Something about it had finally clicked into place for me. Quinn hadn’t been able to say the name of the company she worked for. But what did that mean? That company made technology that worked both in the human and the paranormal world. Quinn had already known about the death on Campbells Run Road. She had told me she had to find a way to tell me what was going on without saying the words.
So that meant there was probably some kind of binding that prevented her from talking about her job.
Okay, so all I had to do was find a way around that binding . . . and also figure out where Quinn was. I needed to think through all the things she had said. There must be a clue buried in there.
Ian rested his elbows on his knees and turned his head to look at me. “I’ve also been wondering why a computer programmer was sent to check out a death on a haunted stretch of road. From the way she made it sound, she was investigating on her own or helping her friend out.”
I facepalmed myself. “What is wrong with me? Why didn’t I think of that?” I groaned, frustrated with myself for allowing my emotions to distract me from obvious things.
Simms opened his mouth to speak right when his cell phone rang. He took it out and immediately stood up. “Yes, sir?” he asked as he brought the phone to his ear.
I continued to try and puzzle my way through the mystery. I didn’t know Quinn. I couldn’t say if she had been acting strangely. But my instincts told me that whoever her friend was, she was the one we needed to talk to.
Roy walked over and rested his head on the side of my leg. He turned his doggie eyes up to meet mine and I knew without question that he doubted the trustworthiness of the PSA as much as I did.
I set my plate on the coffee table and leaned in to hug him. “I’ll figure this out. I swear,” I told him, not surprised at all when Simms began moving toward the door.
Roy leaned closer to me, then pulled back. As he did, he lolled out his tongue and gave me a doggie-grin.
I smirked. “I miss you too, dog breath,” I said, lifting my hand in a wave to Simms as he opened the front door.
He glanced back at me, shaking his head a little bit. “Yes, sir,” he said again and ended his call. “Something’s happening in Chicago. It’s like the whole city is infested by ghosts. I’d like to ask you guys to come and help me out but I know you’re still working your case here. I can see your brain doing its thing, Madison. Just please be careful.” And before I could respond, he walked out with Roy on his heels.
THIRTEEN
Tria Hewitt sighed in relief as the last spirit faded back into the ether. She had done it. She had asked the ghosts to warn people of what could be coming if she failed to hold the spirit of Tillie Klimek in place.
It was the best she could do right then. She knew she had to find a more definitive way to prevent Tillie from doing what the PSA wanted her to do.
Their experiment was wrong on so many levels. To awaken the ghost of a serial killer just to see where she would murder . . . it was evil.
She needed to get out of there without drawing attention to herself. If she could take a quick walk, talk to a few friends, then wander her way to the parking garage, maybe she could get away and find help outside the building.
Tria rose, doing her best to walk in a way that seemed neither rushed or nervous. She nodded as a few people greeted her but most of them simply went about their business. She was glad of that. She had never been good at hiding her emotions. She had gotten better at it over the last few years, though. It wasn’t a good idea to show the PSA precisely how she felt about them.
She turned her lips up in a small smile as she got to the computer lab. It was a place that was as mysterious to her as spiritism was to her friend. She was lucky when she used a computer to avoid deleting hardware, or software, or whatever the computer things were called.
The first time she had brought her fried laptop in to see if one of the computer techs could fix the problems, she had been told she should stick with paper. It had been a joke but it had stuck.
All the information she received was in paper form. She had no idea what it was that made her so dangerous to computers but she didn’t care either.
The day she had brought in her last laptop was the day she had made the friend who had become her saving grace. That one friendship made it possible for Tria to understand what was going on. And they both had every intention of putting a stop to the things the PSA were getting away with.
The trouble was the contract they had both signed when they had taken their jobs. The contract was a magical binding to keep them from telling the authorities about the company. They had worked out a plan they had hoped would get around the rules and open the right eyes to what was going on.
Tria looked around, surprised not to see Quinn. She was the head of her department in software engineering. She was always there.
Tria craned her neck to try and look over one of the partitions, yet all she saw was the rows upon rows of computers and other technical doohickeys that made no sense to her.
“Is there something you need?”
Tria turned to find Dr. Renat giving her a look that made her blood run cold. “Uh, I was looking for Quinn,” she said, taking an involuntary step back when he shifted closer to her.
Dr. Renat’s eyes were cold as ice. “Quinn Turner has been working against the PSA. She committed quite a few violations of her contract. She has been written up and placed in holding.” He turned to walk away from her, glancing back over his shoulder before he was out the door. “What progress have you made in guiding our psychologists through the mind of Tillie Klimek?”
Tria stood still for a few seconds, her mind whirring. Quinn had been placed in holding. They knew what she’d been doing. There was only one choice left to her.
“I will have a report for you completed at the end of the week.”
“See you do,” he said and walked away without a care in the world.
Tria turned and walked out of the building. She was taking a chance by leaving early. It was altogether possible someone would be following her. She would have to be very careful.
She knew that Quinn’s younger sister was their only chance. Tria had to find her. She had to talk her into helping them . . . without saying anything about the PSA.
FOURTEEN
I was almost jumping out of my skin by the time we got back to the office. It hurt my brain to have so many questions and so few answers. My biggest question right then, was why hadn’t Erkens called me back?
I had gotten so used to being able to run my theories past him and have him explain in his gruff way, how my ideas were either right or wrong. Ian and I were still learning. The thing that bothered me most about everything that had happened, was the fact that holy water hadn’t affected the ghost on the third bend.
I needed to research that story. Knowing the name of the school and the approximate date was very helpful.
“Mads,” Ian cut into my investigatory plan-making, his tone a little sharp.
I glanced at him, my eyes going wide as it occurred to me. I had been working th
e case for three days and Ian hadn’t left my side. He had missed work and it hadn’t even occurred to me.
I stepped forward and rested my brow on his chest. “I got so focused on this case, I forgot about the outside world. How much work have you missed?” I asked, warmth spreading over me as he wrapped his arms around me.
He chuckled a little. “I called in. They like me enough that they didn’t even threaten to fire me. There was no way I was leaving you alone to deal with all that’s going on.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist and savored the comfort he gave so easily. “I’m so glad you didn’t,” I whispered, burrowing into his chest. “It’s embarrassing, Ian,” I whispered, going on before he could ask. “I acted like a spoiled little brat when Quinn was talking about her life. I was jealous, so I ran away instead of facing it like an adult.”
Ian pulled me back and looked hard into my eyes, shaking his head as he did. “You were acting human, Madison. You spent your life being abused and neglected by your mom and--”
“I wasn’t abused.”
He leaned back against the desk and pulled me forward so I stood between his legs. “Yes, you were. My mom called CPS at least three times but the fact your mom’s abuse wasn’t physical meant they couldn’t do anything about it.”
I stared at him, horrified by that idea. “She . . . but . . . you really--”
He traced his fingers across my jaw. “Quinn understood you, Maddie. She saw what your mom was like when they met. She told me she feels guilty for not trying to contact you before.”
My stomach fluttered. Even the idea of my older sister showing up during my childhood, it made me feel both warm and comforted. I wasn’t alone.
I leaned in and touched my lips to Ian’s, beyond grateful for the fact he was a part of my life. I had never really been alone. His family had made me feel far more normal than I ever would have. He meant everything to me.
He settled his arms around me, his eyes still boring into me as he brought his mouth to mine. Our mouths met and everything around me faded back. Ian was all there was.
It was mind-blowing. The mix of safety and pleasure was a heady combination. I wanted to stay right there for the rest of my life.
My body jerked in surprise when someone knocked on the office door. We broke apart, my cheeks flushed as Ian’s bold eyes remained fixed on me. The way he looked at me had changed over the last few months.
That look made me feel . . . amazing. It was like I was just as much a part of him as he was of me. Was that love?
He straightened up, then leaned down to kiss my cheek. “To be continued?” he asked with a smile that made my heart pound.
“Definitely,” I whispered, doing my best to collect myself as Ian went to answer the door.
I walked around to the other side of the desk and opened my laptop, my mind so full of Ian Gregory, it was hard to remember all the things I needed to figure out. If I had something to research, it would be a lot easier to concentrate.
What I did was open the file I had created when we’d been cleaning out the office. Erkens had stock-piled old newspapers. What I had done was to scan them and load them into our system.
Being able to search without having to read an entire newspaper was a great way to save time. I entered ‘Saint Perpetua and Campbells Run Road’ into the search and glanced at the door.
The woman who stood there was more interesting than she was beautiful. She looked like she was in her late twenties and of mixed race. She had fawn colored skin and wildly curly, light brown hair. The more I looked at her, the more captivating she appeared.
It wasn’t her appearance, though. It was something about her eyes. It was like the wisdom of the ages was stored in them. She was a person who had seen it all. There was a jaded quality to her but a quiet hopefulness buried deep in her eyes.
She didn’t step into the office. “You’re Madison Meyer,” she said like we’d met before or something.
I nodded. “Yes, I am. And you are?” I asked, seeing Twitter curl himself into a more comfortable position under the desk. He wasn’t worried about her, so I wouldn’t be either.
“My name is Tria Hewitt,” she told me, tipping her head to the side. “I work with Quinn.”
I sat forward, curiosity filling me. “Is she with you?” I asked, waiting for her to walk in.
Tria shook her head. “Uh, no. Quinn . . . she’s safe,” she faltered, not looking like she believed what she was saying.
“What do you mean? Where is she?” I asked, worry filling me as I beckoned her into the office.
She stepped in but jerked to a stop, her eyes moving down to look at the rug. “What is this?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“What is what?” I asked, wondering if she might not be human. Our wards protected us against paranormal creatures. The fact she knew there was warding under the rug spoke volumes.
She turned those all-seeing eyes of hers to meet mine. “Did Quinn tell you who I am?” she asked, stepping into the office and over the wards.
Okay, so she wasn’t paranormal. I looked more closely at her and finally, it hit me. Quinn had told me that her friend knew things most people didn’t. She had also told me that by the description of the clothes, she thought the original murder had taken place around 1900.
“So, you’re a medium?” I asked, almost laughing as Ian crossed himself and stepped as far from her as he could get in the cramped space.
Tria nodded. “I am but Quinn wouldn’t have told you that. How do you know?” she demanded, her eyes going wide as Twitter slunk out from under the desk and rubbed himself over her legs.
I needed to trust my own instincts and I definitely trusted Twitter’s. Under normal circumstances, I would not have trusted the woman at all. But after everything I’d seen in the last six months, I was willing to believe.
I motioned her toward a chair. “No, Quinn didn’t tell me. I just figured it out.”
Tria leaned down to run her hand over Twitter’s fur. “You two really are sisters, aren’t you?” she asked rhetorically, standing up and looking around the office with interest.
“You know?” I squeaked, very much weirded out by the idea that people in Quinn’s life knew about me.
She stepped over to the chair and sat down, a peaceful look on her face. “Yes, I do. She’s one of my best friends. It was a difficult decision for her when she chose to approach you about this case.”
“Why was it difficult,” I croaked, my heart lodged in my throat.
Tria’s shoulders drooped as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Because Cici Meyer was cruel to her. She told Quinn that she wanted nothing to do with her and that her daughter and ex-husband didn’t want to know Quinn either.”
I rubbed my eyes tiredly. “It’s not true. I’m nothing like Mom. I would have been thrilled to find out I had a sister.”
“I think Quinn guessed that but she was afraid. The meeting with your mom took a lot out of her.”
Anger rose inside me. I knew it would be a bad idea to call my mom in the mindset I was in. I wanted to, though. I wanted to tell her precisely what I thought of her.
Tria contemplated me for a few seconds before she extended her hand out between us. “It’s hard for me to concentrate on our conversation with the amount of emotion coming off you,” she said in a way that was compassionate, yet also a little clipped. It was like my emotions were causing her pain. How could that be, though?
I stayed away from her hands, not sure what she was doing. “So you’re more than a medium?” I asked just to give myself time to think.
She pressed her lips together, humming a tiny bit in the back of her throat before she spoke. “Most mediums are more. I do have the ability to feel emotions and yours are very strong but a lot of it is that you look so much like Quinn. I would have guessed your emotional state because of how much you two look alike. I mostly just feel freedom right now, not from you but from me.” She tipped her head back and closed her eyes. “Heari
ng voices all day every day can become a little overwhelming. Your charms keep the spirits out, so it’s just me for the first time in . . . longer than I can remember.”
I wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth or not. I had always believed that mediums and psychics were all con artists. After everything I had seen recently, I had to wonder.
If people like Spencer and Gabe could hold such extraordinary power, why couldn’t psychics and mediums be real? It made sense, especially considering the thirteen bends case.
I was willing to take a chance on her if she could fill me in on . . . almost anything to do with the story. I knew I had missed something. And Quinn trusted her. That settled things in my mind.
“Why are you here, Tria?” I asked, pleased when Twitter jumped up onto the desk and lay down, purring so loud the desktop vibrated.
She tipped her head to the side and folded her hands in her lap. “There’s a lot I can’t say because of the contract we have to sign when we join the company. What I can say is that Quinn and I hoped you might be able to figure out what we can’t say.”
I nodded. “I know that you work for the PSA but that’s all. I know that Quinn knows things the average person doesn’t know.”
Tria lifted a finger. “You have the ability to hack into a place without being seen. Is that correct?”
I nodded.
She leaned forward, her finger still in the air. “The place you mentioned, Quinn is a software engineer. She does far more than that as well, though. What she told me is that her password is the downup with her name,” she said, making it sound like a question.
I snorted out a laugh. “Yeah. We totally came from the same gene pool,” I said, turning to my laptop and beginning to get into the PSA system.
The Thirteen Bends Page 7