Trifles and Folly 2

by Gail Z. Martin

  I took a deep breath and closed my hand around the cheap plastic comb.

  A torrent of images assaulted me. Jim’s face in a mirror, here in the trailer. Riding in a car—an old Ford compact with a blue hood that was missing some of its paint. Another glimpse in a mirror and more of a men’s restroom than I wanted to see, likely at a dive bar. Fighting the wind down at the Battery overlooking Charleston Harbor and this time, I caught the silhouette of another man. Sitting on the step outside the trailer, staring at the glowing tip of a cigarette…

  I pulled back, and the images receded. “Get anything?” Teag asked.

  The sports drink tasted wonderful as I took a couple of gulps while I pulled my thoughts together. “I know what Jim’s car looks like—at least unless he decides to ditch it. Saw what might be one of his hangouts, but only the men’s room.” I added with a grimace. Teag chuckled. “Saw him talking to someone, but didn’t get enough to recognize who the guy was.”

  “Okay, that’s still useful,” Teag said, sliding the comb away and slipping me the t-shirt. “Don’t worry: I’ve got hand sanitizer in the car,” he added as if reading my thoughts.

  My lip curled at the dirty shirt, but I closed my eyes and laid my hand on top of it. Once more, images flashed in my mind and as usual, in no particular order.

  I saw what I recognized at the kitchen at Ciao!, where Caleb told us Jim also worked. I got another look at a seedy bar, this time of the main area and not the bathroom. Next a gym, and after that a convenience store. The next thing I saw was a woman, eyes closed, lips parted, and it looked to me like Jim was going to get lucky. I lifted my hand, not wanting to see more.

  “So?”

  I leaned back in my chair, feeling the strain of multiple readings. Teag pressed the drink into my hand, and I took another sip. “Saw a bar—think it might be same place. Derek might recognize it. A gym too. Looked like one of those cheap by-the-month chains. And a girl, either a girlfriend or a hook-up. I’d recognize her if I saw her again.”

  “One more to go,” Teag said, swapping out the shirt for the lighter. “You up for it?”

  I nodded, and picked up the plastic cylinder. A blue flame lit the tip of a cigarette, and then the image broadened to be the view from a bench at White Point Gardens, down by the harbor. Seeing a flash of the same sketchy bar didn’t surprise me, although a glimpse of a local coffee house on King Street wasn’t what I expected. When the scene changed back to the Battery, I got another look at the harbor, but this time, I saw Jim’s companion straight on.

  When I lifted my hand this time, I smiled. “I think I’ve got him—Jim’s contact.”

  “I’ll ask you again—what the hell are you? How do you do … that?” Derek leaned against the doorframe from the bedroom. I had the feeling he’d been watching for a while.

  “Like you already guessed, I can read impressions from objects by touching them,” I replied. “Depending on what I touch, that can include strong emotional resonance and magic.”

  “Witchcraft?”

  I shook my head. “Psychic gift. No spells or rituals necessary. The images aren’t always easy to interpret. Sometimes I don’t see enough to make sense of anything, or what I do see is jumbled up, out of order. I don’t control what I get to see.”

  “Tell me about the bar.” Derek pushed away from the doorway.

  “I didn’t see the outside. The inside had a tacky Western theme, wood-paneled walls, and a stuffed jackalope.”

  “Denver Joe’s.” Derek looked from me to Teag. “It’s a lobo bar. Figures he’d like a place like that.”

  “Just lobos?” Teag asked.

  Derek shrugged. “Not just shifters, if that’s what you mean. It’s a regular bar. Most of the people in there aren’t anything special. But none of the packs hang out there, so the lobos feel comfortable. Sometimes, some of the pack rebels go to Denver Joe’s for a drink when they feel like slumming.”

  I described the gym, and Derek nodded in recognition, even though I thought the place looked generic. “Fitness Den. It’s run by a shifter, so our kind is welcome, pack and lobo. Guy who owns it is a real alpha, so there’s never any trouble.”

  After I told him about the girl, Derek was quiet long enough that I wondered if we’d hit a wall. “I’ve seen her,” he said quietly. “But I don’t know her name.” He fell silent even longer when I described the man. “He’s not a local. Doesn’t sound like any of the shifters around here, either pack or lobo. If he’s an outsider, he might be the guy who put Jim up to trying to drug you.”

  I could tell something was bothering Derek, but he held back so I dived in. “I don’t need to be a mind reader to know you’ve got a question you want to ask me. Go ahead.”

  “If I gave you something that belonged to Jesse, would it help you find him?” He looked down, embarrassed by the worry and fear in his voice. “I’m just afraid that the longer he’s missing, the less likely it is he’ll come home,” Derek said quietly. “He’s my brother. I’ve got to find him.”

  “You two are close, aren’t you?”

  Derek nodded. “Shifters move around a lot. That’s how we keep from getting caught. So me and Jesse always watched out for each other. Parents don’t stay with pups once the pups can care for themselves—so when I was sixteen, mom and dad went their own way. Jesse and I stuck together. And now something’s happened to him and I’m letting him down.”

  The guilt and pain in Derek’s voice reminded me that the stakes were higher than just finding whoever was behind the disappearances. “If you gave me things that Jesse owns and uses every day, I’d get images from them, but unless one of the items was something he carried when he got taken, I won’t read anything useful. I’m sorry.”

  Derek looked down, letting his long black hair cover his eyes. “That’s okay. I had to ask.”

  “Unless…” I said, getting a sudden thought. Derek looked up, hope and grief in his eyes. “It’s a long shot. We’ve been betting that the kidnapper takes the victims by surprise, grabs them off the street. It’s riskier for the kidnapper to make contact before the snatch, since someone might remember seeing him with the victim, but it could make sense if the victims are being chosen for a reason.”

  “Like their pelts?” I heard the edge in Derek’s voice and winced, because that had been my thought exactly, thinking about the museum exhibits stolen for their “exotic” coloring.

  “Yes.” I saw no point in lying when Derek knew better.

  Derek swallowed hard and then raised his head. “All right. I’ll bring you some things of Jesse’s tomorrow—things he usually carried in his pockets or wore just before… before. I mean, hey, nothing ventured nothing gained, right?” He tried to sound casual, but I heard the desperate hope in his voice, and the undercurrent of pain from the suspicion that we were already too late.

  “I’ll do whatever I can to help,” I said, finding that I’d grown to like Derek despite first impressions. “We’ll find out what happened to Jesse.” We both knew it was the best I could promise, since the odds weren’t in our favor of a happy ending, even if Derek did cling to hope.

  Teag listened closely as Derek questioned me. “Let’s get back to the shop,” he said finally, reminding us how long we had been in Jim’s trailer. “I have a couple of ideas.”

  When we got back to Trifles and Folly, Derek decided to wait outside, returning to his role as bodyguard. I promised to call his cell phone if we uncovered anything else he might be able to help with. Teag fired up his laptop while I made a pot of coffee. It didn’t require a premonition to know this was going to be a late night.

  “People forget that public parks have surveillance cameras,” Teag said as he tapped away on his keyboard. “Too many movies about spies making a drop or Mafiosi handing off payola where they can’t be seen or heard.” He snorted. “Might have worked thirty years ago, but between cell phones, wifi, and all the city cams, it’s pretty hard to go anywhere and not get caught on video.”

  �
�So you’re hacking into the park’s security cams?”

  “Yeah, but first I’m hacking Ciao!’s payroll system,” Teag said, biting his lip as he concentrated. It didn’t take long for him to find what he was looking for—Jim’s employee photo.

  “Got it,” he murmured as he saved a copy of the picture. “Now on to the park.” After another few minutes, he sat back with a satisfied smile. “I’m in.”

  I moved behind him so I could look over his shoulder. Teag’s Weaver magic lets him pull together data streams just as expertly as threads in fabric, so his hacking skills are crazy good. Good enough that he’s been in and out of all kinds of “secure” systems including government and law enforcement sites and we haven’t been arrested… yet.

  The pictures on Teag’s screen changed rapidly as he searched for the video feed he wanted. “Here,” he said finally, a note of triumph in his voice.

  “How are you going to find those few moments Jim and his contact were sitting on the bench out of hundreds of hours of video? We don’t even know what day my vision picked up.”

  Teag grinned. “That’s the beauty of facial recognition software. I’ve set it to match Jim’s photo, so anyone he’s with will get pulled along with it.”

  “You’re scary good,” I said, shaking my head and moving to get a cup of freshly-brewed coffee.

  Just as I turned away, my phone rang. I expected Sorren, but the caller ID caught me by surprise. “Alicia! It’s been a while.”

  Teag raised a curious eyebrow when he heard the ringtone, then went back to what he was doing as soon as I identified the person on the other end of the phone. “I’m going to put you on speaker, if that’s okay,” I said. “Teag’s here with me.”

  “I’ve been getting messages for you, Cassidy,” Alicia said without preamble. Alicia is a gifted psychic medium, and she’s helped us make contact with restless spirits on several of our cases. Nothing ever seemed to rattle her. Now, she sounded edgy.

  “Messages?” I echoed. “For me? From dead people?”

  “You tell me,” Alicia replied. “I’ve had four spirits come to me in the last twenty-four hours, trying to reach you. Three men and a woman.”

  “What did they look like?” I asked, and jotted down notes. Alicia’s connection to the departed is as close to 4G as you can get to the afterlife, and her descriptions had been used by police sketch artists more than once. Now, as I looked at what I’d written, I was almost certain one of those ghosts was Jesse, Derek’s missing brother.

  “So what were the messages?” I asked.

  “Always the same thing,” Alicia said, and this time, I couldn’t miss the fear in her voice. “They kept saying ‘free us’ over and over. That’s it. Just ‘free us.’ Do you know what that means?”

  Teag and I looked at each other, and I thought about the missing taxidermy animals from the museum. “I’m afraid I do.”

  Hunting the Hunter

  After the last dinner delivery disaster, ordering take-out didn’t appeal to either Teag or me. His face-matching software took time to run, so we locked up the store and headed out for a quick bite to eat. Ciao! did not make the short list of choices. I saw Derek sitting in his truck across from Trifles and Folly. He held up a burger that he must have gotten at a drive-through on the way back and waved to let us know he’d keep an eye on us.

  My stomach felt like one big knot, so I didn’t care where we ate, as long as no one tried to drug us. Charleston is a foodie city, so the number of choices is staggering, but we opted for two orders of baked mac and cheese from a pub down the street and walked back just as the sun set. Derek still sat in his truck, which he had parked in a spot that gave him a full view of our side of the street for several blocks. He gave a mock salute and watched us go back into the store.

  “Anything?” I asked as Teag checked on his laptop.

  “Making progress,” he replied. “The new software is faster and almost scary good at making matches.” Teag shook his head. “Kiss your illusions of privacy goodbye.”

  Part of me wondered whether Teag was running a pilfered NSA-grade facial recognition program, but the voice of common sense decided I didn’t really want to know for sure. I poured another cup of coffee, then sat down at my laptop and answered emails for another hour until Teag’s program delivered its results.

  “Bingo!” he whispered, smiling broadly. I hurried over and peered at his screen. The video clip matched my vision from Jim’s lighter exactly.

  “It’s kind of grainy. Can you get a fix on who the other man is?”

  Teag knew his way around the software, isolating the stranger’s face and improving the resolution. With a few more keystrokes, he submitted the photo to the database for a match. A ding announced that we had a winner.

  “Benjamin Gevers,” Teag muttered, reading the name and frowning as he scrolled down through the information linked to the photo. “Last known address, Philadelphia. Couple of prior arrests, but no convictions. Not minor charges; we’re talking about assault, possession of stolen goods, breaking and entering.” He paused. “That’s interesting.”

  “What?”

  “Either Gevers has money or he’s got a patron. The law firms that defended him on those charges don’t come cheap.” He looked up. “Anthony talks shop, so I know the names of the powerhouse law firms. Gevers wasn’t getting sprung by the local bail bondsman.”

  “Anything else?”

  Teag fell silent as he digested the data on the screen, and reached for a notepad. “This lists Gevers known employment, previous addresses. Now that we’ve got a name and address, I can data mine for credit card information, utility bills, phone records, social media if he’s careless enough to leave a trail.” Teag gave a cold smile. “Put enough data points together, and you can find anyone. And if we follow the money, we’ll know who owns Gevers.”

  “How long will that take?” I asked.

  Teag stretched. “Should have something by morning, if I let it run all night. Anthony’s out of town on business, so he won’t miss me as long as I answer my phone.”

  “You can crash at my place,” I offered. I’d hosted late-night strategy sessions plenty of times, with the roster of guests changing depending on the sort of supernatural mayhem we were fighting at the time. “Besides, it’s been a while since you’ve seen Baxter.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Teag said, finishing off his coffee. He gathered his things and grabbed his backpack. “I’ve got everything I need including; you’ll be relieved to hear, a change of clothes. Learned the hard way it comes in handy,” he added with a sidelong glance. The antiques business didn’t get dirty, but fighting off demons and fugly monsters ruined more clothing than I cared to remember.

  “I’ll go let Derek know,” I said, heading for the front door. I froze as soon as I got outside. Derek’s empty truck sat across the street. The shattered glass on the driver’s side door and a set of parallel scratches in the paint confirmed my worst suspicions. “Teag! Someone’s grabbed Derek!”

  Teag reached my side in a few running steps. We both took in the scene. Blood tinged the broken glass and left streaks on the driver’s seat, confirming that Derek had not left voluntarily. We circled the truck, but saw nothing to indicate where Derek could be, and I guessed his kidnapper had a car nearby.

  “Damn.” Teag ran a hand back through his hair as I peered into the truck once more. On the passenger seat lay a worn ball cap and a leather wallet. “Grab those,” I directed, not wanting to touch them yet. “I’m going to try getting a read from the truck.”

  Teag didn’t question why I wanted the items from the seat. He took them and then moved closer to me as if to shield me from passers-by with his body. “Can you do that?”

  “I don’t know. Never had a reason to try.” In the course of a day, I handle hundreds of objects that give me absolutely no psychic imprint, thank god. If I got a stream of memories and emotions from everything I touched, I’d lose my mind.

  While working
with Sorren and the Alliance gave me plenty of chances to practice my psychometry, most of what I learned came through trial and error. Often, that meant finding out the hard way whether something I tried was a bad idea. I closed my eyes, and let my hand fall onto the driver’s door of Derek’s truck.

  Irritation. Surprise. Anger. Fear. Pain, and then blackness. A moment later, I found myself leaning against the truck, gasping for breath as Teag’s hands clasped my shoulders, holding me on my feet.

  “Come back, Cassidy,” he urged, trying not to make a scene in the street. His fingertips dug into my arms, and if he let go I knew my knees would buckle.

  “I felt it.” The words came between panting breaths as I tried to still the shaking that made my whole body tremble.

  “Tell me when we get inside,” Teag urged, gently turning me to slip an arm around my waist. He made it look like a casual stroll back to the shop, when he held me up the whole way. Teag locked the door behind us, pulled the shades and maneuvered me into the break room. A moment later, he returned from my office with the bottle of bourbon we keep for emergencies, and poured a couple of fingers’ worth into a glass, which he slid in front of me.

  “Drink. Then tell me what you saw.”

  I took a sip, letting the liquor burn down my throat, anchoring me to the here and now. Behind closed eyes, I tried to sort out the sensations and images I’d received. The burst of impressions knocked me for a loop, coming at me so hard and fast I struggled to make sense of them.

  “He knew the person.” I opened my eyes and looked at Teag. “It irritated Derek to see him… I’m sure it was a man… and then Derek got angry.” I tried in vain to get a good look at the mental picture of a figure outside the driver’s window, but the night was dark and a hoodie hid the man’s features. “I think he drugged Derek, maybe used a tranq gun,” I said slowly, piecing impressions together. “It hurt. Derek didn’t expect it, and then when he realized what was happening, he was terrified.”