The Trail of Ruins

by Shannon Reber

  I tucked my hair back behind my ears and sighed. “Some things I understand without even having to think about it. Psychology is not one of those things,” I confessed, deciding right then to change that.

  Daw glanced at me and shrugged. “I know through experience. I spent my first fourteen years with a woman who had such severe PTSD, you never knew what you’d be facing one day to the next. She’d go from calling me her ‘sweets’ to threatening to cut off my . . . junk. I understand trauma and I understand people’s reactions to it. Mom and Dad helped me with that. They never even really judged Angelica for what she did. They tried to understand.”

  My stomach fluttered. It was amazing to hear more about their family, to see first-hand what Quinn had meant. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if Daw had come back to the human world and ended up with someone like my mom, he would have turned into a very different person.

  Likely, he would have turned into someone like Kip. That thought made me pause. Was I like Kip? Was I bitter and angry over all the darkness in my life? I didn’t think so but what if I just didn’t see it?

  I thought back over my life and understanding clubbed me over the head. The Gregories. I had lived my life seeing the way Emma and Ian’s parents had loved them. They had shown me what love was. Without them, I would have been like Kip.

  Ugh. That was a disturbing thought. I liked the idea of taking a few psychology courses so that maybe I would find it easier to understand people. But right then, I needed to focus on the case. Iris Libben was our priority.

  Because Erkens needed to be kept in the loop, I brought up the report for the day and added the fact we were going to interview Iris’s husband. I also sent Ian a text to let him know that fact as well.

  I stuck my phone back in my bag and looked around the area we drove through. It was a clearly low-income neighborhood but there was a charm about it, the kind of place where families lived and took care of each other.

  There were bikes and scooters on the sidewalks next to elaborate chalk drawings and abandoned basketballs. It was a charming neighborhood that I liked immediately.

  Daw looked from side to side and nodded, pulling into a spot just down from the Libben’s house. “So what’s your plan here?” he asked, his eyes still fixed on the house.

  I shook my head. “Nothing confrontational. Basically, I just want to get a feel for if the guy knows his wife’s body was dug up. I assume the cops notified him. I just don’t know if it’s possible he hired the witch or if they did it for their own reasons.”

  He moved to get out of the car and shot me a snarky little smirk. “Want to just pretend we’re at the wrong house? Easier to get a feel for people when you look like you’re just a dumb kid.”

  I pursed my lips and rested my hand on the knife we’d gotten from the shop. “I’ll let you take the lead, big brother,” I teased, curious to see how he would handle the situation.

  He wiggled his eyebrows and nudged me with his elbow. “Don’t rub it in that I got us lost, please,” he said, still grinning as he walked up the steps to the front door.

  I followed him, making my face as expressionless as possible. I didn’t like lying but Daw was right. It was the best way to find out what we needed to know.

  He whistled a random tune as he rang the doorbell, his eyes scanning the area as well.

  There was a neglected air about the place that showed how grief had struck Mr. Libben. It was clear he was struggling just by the small things that hadn’t been done. The thing that caught my attention was a little red tricycle with a bar on the back. It was a stroller but it was tipped onto its side and covered in dirt.

  How long had it been since that stroller was used? How was the little boy dealing with the loss of his mom?

  Like he’d noticed nothing at all, Daw plastered a wide smile on his face when the door was opened. The man who stood there looked hollowed out. His cheeks were sunken and his eyes had dark circles under them.

  There was no light, no joy. That man had not seen his wife and he had not lost her a second time. I was positive about that fact. He had the face of a lonely, stressed out man who needed a break more than anything.

  That was made even more clear by the sound of crying coming from inside the house. The little guy was obviously not having a good day either.

  “Yeah?” the guy asked, looking from Daw to me, then back.

  “Hey . . . guessing we got this wrong,” Daw said, shooting a baleful look at me. “Fine. I mean I got this wrong.”

  Mr. Libben raised his brows, waiting to see what was going on.

  Daw grimaced in a very believable way. “Our sister got a new place and--”

  That was when a wailing little boy ran out of the house and plowed directly into me. He wrapped his arms around me and blubbered into my legs. “I don’t wanna. I don’t wanna. I don’t wanna!” he bawled, evidently looking for an ally.

  “Petey, come on, buddy,” Mr. Libben said in a weary way, stepping out onto the porch to get the little one.

  Petey gripped my legs so tight it was uncomfortable. “No. I don’t wanna,” he shrieked, tipping his head back to look up at me. “Don’t like it,” he informed me pitifully.

  But as that tear-stained little face peered up at me, understanding struck me. A father. That had to be it. The witch was a father who had lost his son, maybe his wife too since he’d also dug up Iris Libben’s body.

  My mind was whirring through ideas but slowly, I knelt down to be face to face with the snot-smeared little guy. “You’re Petey?” I asked like that wasn’t clear.

  He nodded, wiping his arm over his nose, smearing grossness all over his face.

  “Your dad looks like he’s pretty tired, Petey. I bet if you did what he asked, that would make you both feel better,” I coaxed, unsure if I was helping at all.

  He sniffled, tipping his head to the side. “Daddy’s sad too?” he asked, his own distress just gone.

  Mr. Libben stepped out and picked the little boy up, holding onto him like he was a lifeline. “Uh, are you two lost?” he asked, looking ready to fall over with exhaustion.

  Daw nodded. “Yeah. She told me I was on the wrong street but I ignored her,” he said, lifting his hand in a ‘what are you going to do’ kind of gesture.

  Mr. Libben gave me a small smile as he stepped back through his front door with his son. “I hope you find what you’re looking for,” he said quietly.

  The little boy waved over his dad’s shoulder as the door closed behind them.

  Daw and I walked back to his car, both of us quiet as we went. I needed to tell him my new theory but my mind was full of all the grief the people around us were suffering. It was a horribly sad thing to see. It also made me grateful that Imogen had been able to bring Ian back when I’d lost him.

  I wasn’t sure how I would have responded if she hadn’t been able to call his soul back to his body. It had been a close call. I never wanted to feel that way again.

  Daw started driving, his eyes fixed on the road. “Mind if I ask what’s going on? You looked like you were going to pass out when the little boy hugged you. Something up?” he asked, glancing at me as he stopped at a stop sign.

  I blew out a long breath. “I think I figured it out. Not the who but the why,” I informed, explaining my reasoning as I set a search to look for deaths that involved a mother and a young boy.

  “I guess that makes sense but why was Deke’s soul called back?”

  “Maybe it wasn’t,” I said quietly, rubbing my brows. “Mr. Holtz only saw his son’s body. If the witch’s son’s soul was placed in Deke’s body--”

  “That’s not possible,” Daw cut in. “A soul belongs to one body. The witch would have to destroy the soul even to be able to put a different one into a body. That kind of magic is the darkest there is. If the witch destroys a pure soul, there’s no coming back from that.”

  A shiver worked its way up my spine. All of a sudden, I wished our case was a simple ghost sighting or polter
geist. If only.

  I called Erkens to let him know all that we had worked out. There was no answer, so I entered all the info into the file. I was starting to wonder if the chief might have arrested Erkens or something.

  I knew Erkens could handle himself. He didn’t need me to rescue him. Unless he did. Ugh. Maybe I should try to find him.

  I quickly turned on the GPS app on Erkens’ phone and found that he was at Bertie’s house. Okay. He must be trying to get more info out of her. Looked like Daw and I needed to go talk to the rest of our team.

  SEVENTEEN

  Ian raised his brows at me as I slid into the backseat of Spencer’s car. It had only been a couple of hours since we’d been together but a lot had happened in that time. He was good at reading me, so he’d know the jumbled state of my emotions.

  “Mads?” he asked, confusion written all over his face.

  I shrugged and motioned to Daw as he slid in on the other side of the car. “Ian Gregory, Spencer Ezra, this is Daw Turner, Quinn’s other brother,” I said, my eyes still fixed on my phone.

  Spencer lifted his hand in a lazy wave. “We’ve met,” he said, his eyes still fixed on the apartment building where Knox’s phone said he was.

  Daw inclined his head and gave Ian a slow smirk. “I’ve met them both, actually.”

  Ian turned in his seat to look at Daw, his eyebrows squished together. “Uh, yeah. I guess we have,” he said, his voice utterly uncertain.

  Daw shrugged. “When Quinn told us everything that happened, me and Dawson weren’t convinced you guys were on her side. Dawson started looking into Madison and I looked into Ian. I thought the direct approach was best, so I picked a fight in a basketball game.”

  Ian shook his head. “You TRIED to pick a fight,” he corrected, grimacing a little. “What exactly did any of that prove to you?”

  Daw shrugged. “It proved to me that you weren’t a bad guy. I could see you struggling but you directed your anger inward, not at the guys in the game and not at me, even though I was the instigator. I wasn’t sure you weren’t going to have an aneurysm there for a minute but you--”

  “Hold on.” I held up both hands and gave Daw the evil eye. “You and Dawson were spying on us for what reason?” I demanded, uncomfortable at the idea that I hadn’t known Dawson had been around.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m guessing Quinn never told you about when she met your mom,” he said, nodding as my eyes went wide. “A kid growing up in the kind of environment you must have grown up in, it’s a wonder you’re not in prison or on drugs or both. We wanted to be sure that Quinn wasn’t going to be hurt again. It took her a long time to get over the meeting with your mom.”

  A knot formed in my stomach, working its way up into my throat. “Oh,” I squeaked, not too sure if I could handle any more.

  Spencer looked back at me, handing me Ian’s cup of coffee. “From what we’ve seen so far, the Knox guy is busy getting high and talking on the phone. Nothing else,” he informed, his calm voice making me feel calmer as well.

  I took a drink of the coffee, rubbing my hand over the ache in my chest. I didn’t say anything. All I did was start the process of getting into Knox’s accounts.

  After a few seconds, my phone beeped to indicate it was in. The last call Knox had made had been to Manny. What did that mean? Could Manny be the witch?

  I could hear the guys talking but didn’t pay any attention to them. All I did was get back into Manny’s file. All I’d paid attention to at first was the fact he was an ex-con.

  “We need to talk to Manny,” I stated, my eyes fixed on my phone.

  “What’d you find, Sherlock?” Ian asked with a small smile.

  “Manny Dozorca was the guy Erkens and I met yesterday morning at the cemetery. He pointed us to Bertie. Bertie pointed us to him.” I glanced at him, trying to clarify my thoughts. “He made it clear he was hiding something when Quinn and I talked to him last night. Then today, I found he was cellmates with Knox for eighteen months. Those are far too big of coincidences.”

  Spencer nodded. “Agreed,” he said, glancing at Ian. “I kind of think you and I should stick with Knox. Something tells me there’s a lot more to this than we think.”

  “Okay,” Ian said without a qualm, reaching back to rest his hand on my knee. “Be careful out there and do me a favor?”

  I raised my brows, waiting to hear what that favor would be.

  “Don’t beat Daw up. He was trying to protect his sister.”

  I laid my hand over his and squeezed. “No promises. We’ve decided to be family and from what I know of little sisters, I’m supposed to make him pay for being an error code to my boyfriend.”

  Daw threw back his head and laughed. “I had a feeling I was going to pay for that,” he said, moving to get out of the car.

  Spencer and Ian both laughed, truly seeming to be on the same page for the first time. Maybe they could even qualify as friends. I’d have to wait and see but the fact they were doing that stakeout so comfortably seemed like a good sign.

  I handed the coffee back to Ian and got out of the car, waving to them as we walked back to Daw’s car. I knew we had been all too conspicuous. Maybe if Knox knew he was being watched, he would refrain from doing anything noteworthy. A girl could hope.

  “Where are we heading?” Daw asked as I got in.

  “CCAC,” I answered, checking Manny’s schedule. “Yeah. He’s in class right now but maybe if we walk in, that will scare him enough to get him to tell us the truth.”

  Daw pursed his lips. “What was he locked up for?”

  “Car theft.”

  “Violent?”

  I shook my head.

  He considered for a few moments before he nodded. “If it’s nothing violent, we’ll probably be better off making ourselves look like friends. If we play it that way, he’d probably be more likely to help out.”

  I lifted my chin, my hands tightening into fists. “That’s a good idea,” I told him, thinking through all the possibilities of ways that conversation could go.

  “Madison?”

  I glanced at him.

  “I’ve known you for a couple of hours and I can see you’re nothing like your mother. I’m sorry we assumed that,” he said earnestly.

  I took in a shaky breath and rubbed my hand up and down my leg. “I get it. Quinn didn’t tell me specifically how things went with my mom but I know her. I know the types of things she would have said. I get why you would have worried.” I stared out the window, wishing one day would pass without a reminder of how things had been with Mom. I wanted to be free of it. I wanted to be free of her.

  And I was. At least mostly.

  My life was just the way I wanted it to be. Mom was part of my past. Or I wished that was true, anyway.

  I had checked her records several times since I’d taken her name off my trust. Her financial records baffled me. From what I could tell, someone else was paying for her condo. I didn’t know who that would be.

  Mom had dated a few guys over the years. Most of the time, they were fellow professors who were, so far as I could tell, very much like her. No one had ever been important enough to her for her to bring them home.

  I could find out more if I chose to. I made the choice not to. I decided just to let her live her life free of the burden I had always been to her.

  Daw cleared his throat. “Where are we heading?” he asked as he pulled onto the street where his GPS told him to go.

  “He’s in a Computer Skills class right now, so pull in up here,” I told him, motioning to a lot with only a few cars parked there.

  Okay, so Manny was taking general classes. He probably did understand that his options were limited because he was an ex-con. But he was still going to school, trying to better himself.

  That was admirable. I needed to find a way to build a rapport with him, make it clear we were on the same side. Maybe we really were.

  I nodded to Daw as we started walking toward the building. “Le
t’s present this to him as we think Knox has done something dangerous. I really don’t think Manny is a bad guy.”

  “Works for me.”

  I took in a breath, counted to three, and let it out. Okay. It was time to find out the truth.

  Right when we turned down the hall that led to the class, the door opened and people began filing out. I stepped to the side, waiting to see if Manny would come over or if we’d have to chase him down.

  He walked out in the middle of the group, not speaking to anyone. He was alone in a crowd, something I could relate to. It was how I had spent the majority of my life.

  He stopped when he saw me, slowly stepping closer to me. He didn’t look nervous. He looked resigned. He knew why I was there.

  I shook my head when he leaned against the wall next to me. “I need your help,” I said, hoping he would be the at least moderately good man I thought he was.

  Manny tipped his head down and looked at his shoes. “I don’t rat,” he said, making it even more clear he wanted to tell me what he knew.

  I stood straight and faced him full on. “Manny, I’m not a cop. All I’m trying to do is find out what’s going on.”

  “I tell you, Knox knows it’s me.”

  “But if you don’t tell me and something bad happens, you’ll feel responsible for the rest of your life.”

  He turned his eyes up to meet mine. “It’s . . . weird,” he whispered, flicking his eyes around the emptying hallway.

  Daw stepped closer and shoved his thumbs into his pockets, tapping out some rhythm with his fingers. “We think your friend is doing something dangerous. Really dangerous. You know that,” he said, inclining his head a little. “Which is more important to you, Knox thinking you ratted him out or saving him from whatever he’s gotten himself into?”

  Manny shifted uncomfortably. “I dunno what he’s do’in. Alls I know is he’s talking like he’s getting out of the city.”

  “Who is he working with, Manny?”

  “I dunno.”

  “Please, Manny. Tell us something.”

  He dropped his head into his hands and groaned. “The guy waked up some dead chick . . . and Knox . . . he took her. He took the dead chick.”