by Amy Boyles
“It was a projection of the one in the Spiritus.”
Artie had appeared in the room. He picked the spoon from his bowl. Grits dropped from the tip, plopping on top of more grits. Didn’t this guy eat anything else?
I frowned. “What do you mean that was a projection of the spirit we captured?”
Roan bolted up. “Is there someone here?”
I gripped his arm. “It’s okay. It’s just Artie. He said the spirit was the one we captured.”
“Yeah.” Artie swiped a forearm over his mouth. “It projected from that thingy ’cause you’re nearby. It still has power. Until you get a name and banish this guy for good, you’re in danger.”
“He says we’re in danger.”
Roan rolled his eyes. “Great. Tell me something I don’t know.”
“My thoughts exactly,” I murmured.
Because of the volatility of the Spiritus, we decided to keep it at Southern Ghost Wranglers. That way the spirit wouldn’t have access to harm anyone in the building at night since no one—namely me—would be there.
“What’d you say this thing was again?” Alice tipped the canister toward her face. She reached to tug at the one of the caps on the end.
I lunged forward. “No!” And snatched it from her hand before Alice had a chance to unplug the evil inside.
“Sorry.” Her face drew up into a perfect imitation of a child sulking. “I didn’t know it was dangerous.”
“You need to listen to Blissful, Alice.” Ruth wagged a finger. “Pay attention to her. We’re not peddling doughnuts in here. We’re dealing with spirits.”
“I know,” Alice whimpered. “I only thought it looked pretty.”
“This pretty tube holds the bad spirit from the Jarvis house.”
Ruth gasped. “You don’t say.”
“I do say.”
Alice shoved her glasses high on her nose and inspected the Spiritus all over again. “How’d you get it in there?”
“Roan Storm helped me.”
They exchanged a look.
“What?”
“I thought Roan didn’t believe in ghosts,” Ruth said. “Even though his grandfather did all sorts of suspect things, I thought Roan was straight and narrow.”
“He can’t be too straight and narrow if he’s dating Blissful,” Alice murmured.
I shot her a hard look.
She hitched a shoulder. “What? You do have purple hair.”
“Violet,” I corrected, “and I’m pretty straight and narrow.”
Ruth and Alice locked gazes before bursting into laughter.
Ruth knuckled tears from her eyes. “Who says?”
“Yeah, no one who catches ghosts is straight and narrow,” Alice said.
Since when had I asked for this sort of heckling? I flared my arms. “Okay. I get it. I’m not exactly cut-and-dried. Anyway, Roan went with me to the house and helped catch the ghost. Before anyone gets excited, for some reason this creep still has power. It attacked me last night.”
“Oh no!” Ruth felt my head and shoulders. “Are you okay? Blissful, did it break anything?”
I wiggled out of her hold. “Nothing was broken, but then another really strange thing happened.”
“Oh, I’m afraid to hear it.” Alice plugged her fingers in her ears. “I don’t want to know.”
Good grief. I gently tugged her hands down. “It’s nothing to be scared about, but Roan called the ghost off.”
Ruth folded her arms and nodded. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Why?”
She slapped her thigh. “We told you about his grandfather and all his mysterious doings. It’s no surprise at all that Roan’s got some abilities.”
“They’re latent.”
“Better late than never,” Alice said. “What sort of abilities?”
I inhaled deeply. After these words came out, the women’s response might sting. “He’s a demonologist.”
“What?” Ruth threw up her hands.
Alice frowned. “What’s that mean?”
“He can banish. I don’t know how it works. Roan doesn’t know how it works, either.” I glanced at my watch. “And I hope I won’t have to worry about it for a while because we’ve got bigger fish to fry.”
Alice pointed to the door. “Like that fish?”
My head swiveled. Approaching the store came a tall man, athletically built with broad shoulders and slim hips. His dark hair brushed his chin, and his blue eyes sliced through the scenery.
With him strode a woman with long, luxurious red hair. Big brown eyes peeked out of her face, and the rest of her features were delicate—chin, nose and even cheekbones. Freckles constellated her nose and cheeks, giving her a girl-next-door look.
Before they reached the door, he took the woman’s hand. He turned his face toward her, and they beamed at one another.
Clearly the sun rose and set in each other’s eyes.
He surveyed the room, quickly picking the three of us apart with his eyes. When his gaze settled on me, he said two words.
“Blissful Breneaux?”
“You must be Axel Reign.”
“Axel who?” Alice whispered to Ruth.
“I don’t know. It must be one of Blissful’s friends,” Ruth shot back.
“They can’t be friends because they just introduced themselves,” Alice argued.
I swear those two would be the death of me.
Axel ignored them. “This is Pepper Dunn.”
The woman stepped forward. “How do you do?”
“Well, thank you.” I nodded toward Ruth and Alice. “This is Ruth Biggs and Alice Cassidy.”
Pepper gazed around the shop. “So do y’all catch ghosts?”
I nodded. “I do. I’m a clairvoyant. There’s no point lying about it. I can see spirits and talk to them. It makes for a real interesting time if I’m having lunch alone at a restaurant. Sometimes ghosts like to visit when I’m by myself, and then they chatter until finally I have to answer. So basically, people think I’m a crazy lady who talks to herself.”
Pepper shot Axel a look. “Somehow I think the two of us can relate.”
My gaze toggled from side to side, trying to figure out what she meant. “Are y’all clairvoyants, too?”
A slow smile curved Pepper’s lips. “Not exactly.”
Then it hit me. I hadn’t noticed it before she said something, but this Axel guy and Pepper were different. Like, they almost shimmered they were so different.
Energy coiled between them. When I stared at Pepper, it was almost as if I could see it breathing around her. A wall of power inhaled and exhaled as she moved, wrapping her in a protective layer.
Axel proved different. The cloud circling him seemed to be made more of testosterone than energy. A primal, instinctive sense of power blew off him like steam. Yet I sensed a similar tangle to Pepper’s, but I had to look harder to see it.
They were witches. Axel, not technically. Technically the title wizard fit him best. But you know? Magic was magic. Whether you used the masculine or feminine name, it meant the same thing—these two beings worked spells as easily as I made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
My mind immediately flashed to Roan. They might be able to help him. I knew wizards and witches weren’t demonologists, but this Axel guy looked weathered and tested.
I opened my mouth to relay the developments from last night regarding Molly Menzel, but Axel beat me to it. “So they found the Menzel girl’s family. Have you spoken to the relative?”
I shook my head. “Not yet.”
He thumbed the door. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go find some answers.”
THIRTEEN
I drove Axel and Pepper through town. Pepper sat in back, commenting on how cute Haunted Hollow appeared to be.
“It’s Halloween here twenty-four-seven,” I murmured.
“Oh, I know about that.” She tapped the glass. “Had something like that happen in our town.”
I peeked in the rearview at her. “Oh? Where’s that?”
Before she could answer, Axel changed the subject. “So what else is happening besides a missing person’s case?”
My stomach knotted. I wasn’t sure how much to tell him, but I figured if my hunch was correct and he was a wizard, then there was no harm in explaining a few strange circumstances.
“There were three spirits haunting the house where we discovered Molly’s body. One of them is evil, determined to destroy whoever it can.” I turned left at a four-way stop and gunned the Cruiser down the tree-lined street. “This spirit is the sort of trouble that keeps on giving. None of the other ghosts can cross into the afterlife unless he allows it. I’m holding him, but his power is strong. To break him, I need his name.”
Axel rubbed his thumb over his lips. “And that’s what you want me to get?”
“Right. You were recommended. I usually work alone, but something about this case is bothering me. So I decided to reach out.”
My GPS bleated that we had arrived. I pulled up to the curb. A long line of television crew vans ate up the asphalt. The vehicles had parked nose to rump, leaving little space between. They reminded me of plates on a centipede.
Axel peered through the glass. “So this is it. Let’s see if we can get past these crews and get inside.”
I frowned. “How’re we going to do that? Magic?”
I clamped my teeth shut. How could I have said that?
Axel shifted in his seat until his body faced mine. “You know what we are.”
“It was a guess. I mean, look at the two of you.”
Pepper’s gaze washed down her shirt. “What? Did I put this on backward?”
“No.” I shook my head. “No. It’s just…you’re different. Both of you. I’d have to be blind not to notice. Maybe it’s because I’m touched already that it’s so obvious to me—I don’t know. But I don’t care. If magic can help us in this situation, I’m all for it.”
Pepper tapped Axel’s shoulder. “It’s his magic that you’ll be wanting. Mine is pretty hit-or-miss.”
I inspected Axel. “Great. Not that I think magic will help much when it comes to ghosts, but we could sure use it if it’ll help us get inside that house.”
Axel scrubbed his hand over his stubbly chin. “It’ll help. I’ll get us in.”
I steeled myself to walk past the camera crews. “Great. Are y’all ready?”
Pepper winked mischievously. “As we’ll ever be.”
I had no idea how this was going to work out. Reporters shouted at us as we approached the home.
“Do you know who’s inside?” Axel said.
“A man.”
“That doesn’t help us.”
“It helps because I’ll be calling him ‘sir.’”
My gaze flickered to the house. It was an old brick structure with a round doorway and pale gray bricks trimming the arch. Like a lot of the houses on this block, it needed some upkeep, but if you were old, you had other things to worry about besides washing the outside of your house. Like breathing, for one. I imagined when I got old, I’d be more worried that I was still breathing than anything else.
Oh, and probably arthritis, as Fannie had so kindly pointed out.
Reporters shouted at us as we crossed the lawn. I hoped they’d shut up before we knocked. If last night’s news footage was any inclination at the sort of welcome we would receive, I didn’t hold any hope that we’d be greeted with open arms.
Axel knocked.
“Go away!” shot back from inside.
Axel knocked again.
“Didn’t you hear me? Go away!”
I pressed my mouth near the door. “Mr. Menzel, we’d like a few minutes of your time.”
“I ain’t talkin’ to no reporters.”
“We’re not reporters.” Axel sliced his hand through the air. “The reporters are gone.”
“Huh?”
Axel smiled at Pepper.
Shuffling steps neared the door. A chain slid from its barrel, followed by a snap that suggested the bolt had been flipped. The door opened a sliver. A gnarled and knotted nose peeked out.
“Who are you?” he barked.
Clearly this guy was pleased to see us.
“Mr. Menzel,” Axel said, “we know this is a hard time for you, but we were wondering if you could spare us a few moments?”
Mr. Menzel raised an eyebrow that resembled a hedge. His face was buried beneath years of untrimmed brows and whiskers.
“What do you know about this being a hard time?” he sneered.
“My name’s Axel Reign, and I’m a private investigator. I’d like to help. Help figure out who killed your daughter.”
Mr. Menzel shuffled forward a step. He wore a threadbare yellow button-down shirt and brown slacks rolled up at the cuffs. His teeth were yellow and worn. A few were missing, but since he didn’t trim his brows, it was safe to say Mr. Menzel wouldn’t be getting any implants.
“You with them reporters?” He motioned behind us.
“What reporters?” Axel said.
I glanced behind. Sure enough, the reporters were gone. The sound of wind chimes replaced the talking heads’ chatter.
“Well I’ll be darned.” Mr. Menzel shot a perplexed look to the street. “I swear they were there a minute ago. I hate ’em. Hate every one. They don’t care about Molly. They only care about themselves.”
I stepped forward. “Mr. Menzel, this may not be what you want to hear, but I’m the person who found Molly’s body.”
Tears bubbled in his eyes. Next thing I knew, Mr. Menzel had collapsed on me. He bawled and dragged us inside.
“Come in, all of you. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
Jackpot.
When the three of us were situated inside, Mr. Menzel bustled from the kitchen with a tray of cheese and crackers. He also brought a couple of cans of Coke, too.
We each took something. I took the Coke because what the heck, I hadn’t indulged in one for years and every once in a while, who didn’t need a good burp?
He rubbed his knotted hands distractedly. “Molly was a good girl. That’s the first thing I’m going to tell y’all. She was good. Everyone loved her. She was kind, friendly, beautiful. You never met a better soul. Not in your life.”
Axel finished chewing a cracker. “Do you remember what happened the day she disappeared?”
“Like it was yesterday.” Mr. Menzel pointed to a picture. “That’s Evelyn. She was Molly’s mother and my wife. I swear Molly’s disappearance put Evelyn in her grave. It tore away at her, you see. Ate at her heart. She couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat.”
He hung his head in sadness. “My Evelyn was never the same person after Molly vanished. It killed her. She never lost hope. Every day she’d wake up and ask me if I thought Molly would come home by dinner. I’d say, ‘Of course, sugar. She’ll be home by then.’ But you know what happened. Molly was dead. Dead and buried in the basement of some house.”
Mr. Menzel rubbed his face. He scratched his whiskers, the sound filling the living room. “I knew Molly wasn’t coming back. I knew it after the first week. She was dead. I never told Evelyn that. Never wanted her to think I’d given up hope, but the truth was, if Molly had been alive, she never would’ve stayed away from this house for longer than one night. Ever. And that’s a fact.”
Silence floated over the four of us. Axel shifted in his seat. The cushion groaned as it protested his advance. “And what about that day? Was there an argument?”
“There wasn’t an argument.” Mr. Menzel bit into a slice of cheese and chewed. “Molly did the same thing she always did: went to school—she was a senior at the high school—then went to her after-school job but never came home. End of story.”
“There are reports that she attended school that day?” Pepper said.
“Yes.” Mr. Menzel sounded exhausted. “And from work, too. But then she left and poof! Vanished. Of course now we know she didn’t
vanish but she was in”—his voice broke—“that house the whole time.”
I reached over and squeezed his hand. Mr. Menzel squeezed back. “I’m sorry.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. “I just never expected for her to be found. I’m glad she has been, but it doesn’t make this any easier.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t,” I said gently. “Mr. Menzel, do you know why Molly would’ve been at the Jarvis—I mean, what y’all called the old Gambrell place? Why would she have been there?”
“That’s the easiest part of this whole thing. Molly was found there because that’s where she worked. She cleaned the place for the Hudsons, who owned the bed-and-breakfast.”
My eyes must’ve betrayed my surprise. “She worked there. The Hudsons were questioned after her disappearance?”
“Yes, they were questioned. But they were such good people that nobody thought anything about it. Oh, there were reports that sometimes Mr. Hudson lost his temper with Mrs. Hudson, but I didn’t believe it. They were always good to us, to Molly.”
“Then one day they disappeared,” I said.
He nodded. “But that was years later. To be honest, I worked so hard to keep Evelyn happy and content that I didn’t care. I figured they were as hurt about the whole thing as we were. They loved her, the Hudsons did.”
He handed me a Coke. “Will you open it for me?”
“Sure.” I did and gave it back.
“The other reason why I never thought much about it was because first of all, it was rumored Mr. Hudson—Jinkins was his first name—was very sick and that’s why they left so quickly. I think I heard somewhere that he died. That’s one thing. The other thing is that there were neighbors on that same street who saw Molly leave the Hudsons’ inn. With their own eyes they saw her walking down the road.”
Pepper reached for Mr. Menzel’s leg. Her features were so trustworthy. Her smile was bright like sunshine, and the aura winding around her was content. “Mr. Menzel, do you think they could’ve been wrong? Do you think folks thought they saw Molly but didn’t?”
Mr. Menzel shook his head. “I’ve never thought about it before. But these were people who knew what Molly looked like, so no, I don’t think they were wrong.”