Grave Dealings

by R. R. Virdi

  I tried to mask the smirk fighting to make its way across my face. I failed. I offered her a half-shrug as an apology. “Look, I don’t know what exactly is going on, just that something isn’t adding up. They came out with burn marks and the notion they’ve been electrocuted. I don’t see anything else that would point to that except the fried box over there. It’s a stretch, yeah, but that’s assuming the box was naturally the cause.”

  Ortiz glanced at the box, then back to me. “You think something gave it a little extra juice? Magic?” She eyed the power supply again, taking a step back from it.

  I mimicked her. The thing was still plugged in. If something had given it some oomph, no reason to believe it couldn’t do it again. “We’ve seen stranger things. Our first case, which this is starting to resemble in some odd ways.”

  “Every case with you is odd.”

  That was true. I waved it off and leaned against the table, sighing. “I don’t know what else to run on, Ortiz. I feel like I’m digging in the dirt with my bare hands and no clue of what I’m supposed to be searching for. I’ve got fragments of clues that make it seem like a monster we’ve already ganked.” A hollow thud came from the table as my fists hammered it.

  Ortiz took hold of one of my arms, pulling it away from the table. “Hey, I know.” She licked her lips and breathed out. “I know. It’s never easy, I’ve gone through this myself on cases. When things don’t add up, you want to pull your hair out. It doesn’t help. It just makes your brain feel like a mess of tangled knots.”

  That’s exactly how I felt. I winced, pretending that the pressure with which I held my eyes shut would alleviate the throbbing in my skull. It didn’t.

  She squeezed my wrist, pulling me from my clouded thoughts. “We’ll figure it out.”

  I wasn’t so sure. I looked at her. “How do you know?”

  “Because we don’t really have a choice. I can’t let a monster run around my state killing people.” She arched a brow and gave me a knowing look. “What about you?”

  I grinned. “Screw that.”

  She nodded. “So, let’s take this a step at a time. We have a list of things we know—no matter how little sense they make.”

  “And a list of things we don’t know, a pretty big one, to be fair.”

  Ortiz glared at me.

  I shut up.

  She went on like I hadn’t spoken. “We need to sit down and break up each bit of information on its own—see where it leads us. Then we can treat it like a jigsaw puzzle and put it back together. We might not get all of the pieces, but if we play it right, we can get enough to have an idea of what we’re looking at.”

  It was a smart move, except for one issue. I pointed to my forearm.

  Ortiz glanced at it and sighed. “Right, there’s always a catch with you.”

  I shrugged. “As close as I am to it—we can’t all be perfect.” I gave her a lopsided smile.

  She didn’t return it. “We have resources. Your journals are loaded with information, right? There’s bound to be something in there.”

  I pressed a hand to my head. “I don’t know, Ortiz. There’s so much I encounter on a case that it’s hard recalling it all, not to mention recording it. My journals have a lot, but sometimes it’s not about a lot; it’s about what I don’t have.”

  “Well, you won’t know until you look.” She shifted away from me and looked at me sideways.

  I raised my hands in a gesture of defeat.

  Ortiz held the look. “So, where are they?”

  I looked away before turning back, giving her a weak smile and laugh. My hand went to the back of my head. “In the car, in the windbreaker being used to hide the illegal weapons you told me to take.”

  Ortiz stared. “You left them in my car?”

  There are moments in every man’s life where sometimes answering a question is not the best thing to do. No matter how witty a reply I might have had, no matter how simple the answer, it was safer to look at my shoes. They were nice shoes.

  Kelly bounced in her seat, thrusting a fist into the air. “Check it out!”

  Ortiz turned to her, forgetting about me.

  Bless you, you strange, strange child. I followed Ortiz towards the couch, and we hovered over Kelly’s laptop. A series of small windows dotted the page.

  She looked at us both before trailing her finger over the mouse pad. A single window expanded to dominate the screen. Milo’s face sat boxed in the top-right corner of the web page. He looked happy. His glasses sat at an angle, noticeably I might add. It worked for him and gave Milo the definitive geek vibe. It was like looking at a younger, darker, Church, minus all the hair.

  “What are we looking at?” I scanned the page but didn’t have a clear idea.

  “It’s his blog.” Kelly looked at me like it should have been obvious.

  I shrugged. “How’s that relevant?”

  She pointed a finger to a counter at the top of the page.

  I shook my head. “So?”

  Kelly let out a resigned sigh. She eyed Ortiz. “How do you work with this caveman?”

  I blinked and stared at both of them.

  Kelly shook her head, returning to the page while Ortiz fought not to smile.

  I released a chest-shaking grunt that would have made any troglodyte proud. “Me smash little computer.”

  Kelly turned slowly, staring at me the way a large cat might before pouncing on a mouse. “Not if you want to live.” Her voice could have made snow feel warm by comparison.

  I gave Ortiz a sideways glance.

  Her lips pressed tighter together than before. The muscles in her neck quivered as her chest shook. She was enjoying this.

  “Bah, tough talk.” I waved them both off. “What’s the point?”

  Kelly calmed and worked her magic, bringing up another site for comparison. “See the hits there?” She flipped back to the previous page once Ortiz and I had acknowledged the count. “Now, Milo’s.” She highlighted the counter, flipping between the pages so we could compare.

  Ortiz and I whistled in unison. Milo’s numbers were exponentially higher than the other site’s.

  “Cool, big numbers. I don’t see the importance. Then again, I have trouble with anything after the venerable número trés.” I waggled three fingers.

  Ortiz shook her head. “Should have watched more Sesame Street.”

  “Yeah, the monstrous puppet in charge of counting is a vampire.” I stared at her, making it clear I wasn’t a fan. “I’m not big on that. Go figure.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  Kelly cleared her throat, looking at the pair of us like we were bickering children.

  I pointed at Ortiz. “She started it.”

  Ortiz looked like she was going to bite my finger off.

  I curled the finger back and eyed the screen. “I still don’t see the big deal?”

  The young computer guru dragged the mouse from the counter over to a series of page ads. From there, she pulled the cursor to a donation button. “With the amount of traffic he gets, and the ads, he’s probably making a living from this blog alone. Then there are the donations.” She pointed to a small box below them and a scrolling script of names and numbers. “He’s actively getting money from people. Some are throwing pocket change, others—” She trailed off and clicked on a sum of two hundred dollars.

  “For running a website?” I’m sure my eyes swelled to owlish proportions.

  “His blog is endless information articles on computer maintenance and repair. It’s textbook thorough.” It sounded like she was talking to herself as she scrolled through his site. “He’s got in depth videos too, not to mention his work hours where people can call in and chat live so he can diagnose problems. Milo’s got his blog set up with work order forms so people can even mail units in for repair. He’s got a form set up to get permission to remote into people’s computers too.”

  Ortiz and I traded quizzical looks then looked to Kelly, making it clear she was speaking
another language.

  The young woman’s shoulders sunk further. “He has an impressive blog that lets him make a full-time living as a computer technician without needing to leave the comfort of his home. The only exceptions to that are groceries and other human things.”

  I don’t know why, but I felt like the last part of her comment was addressed to me. I resisted the urge to loom over her and scowl.

  Ortiz leaned closer to Kelly, nudging the girl with her elbow. “How does this help us?”

  Kelly’s face tightened as she thought. “I’m not sure, but I think knowing what people do for a living is useful in your line of work, right?”

  Ortiz nodded before giving me a look.

  I didn’t know what to make of it. Yes, it was a possibility Milo’s work had gotten him fried; everything pointed to it. But it was rather coincidental, aside from the unbelievable part. I shut my eyes and swore as it hit me.

  “Um, okay?” Kelly looked at me like I was unstable.

  To be fair, hunting the paranormal requires a bit of crazy.

  “What’s wrong?” Ortiz was watching me carefully. She knew I was onto something.

  “Yo, Hackers, can you find out anything more about Milo’s business?”

  Kelly frowned. “Yes, and did you really just reference that movie? You’re old.”

  I sniffed and didn’t deign to reply.

  She put her laptop beside her and rose from the couch. Kelly walked past us towards the table with the damaged power supply. She picked a hard binder like the sort you’d find in elementary school. Kelly thumbed it open and leafed through the pages. She stopped when she’d reached the final page. “That’s weird.”

  Ortiz and I waited in silence. It’s obvious when someone’s on a roll, and when they are, you leave them to it.

  Kelly held onto the binder as she leaned over the power supply, eyeing it from as many angles as she could. She grabbed the box, turning it over.

  I bristled the second she made contact. Fortunately, nothing happened.

  Kelly’s gaze bounced from the binder to the damaged power supply and back again several times. “This might be one of those clues you’re looking for.”

  I rocketed off the sofa, covering the distance in a second. Ortiz was a millimeter behind me. I came to Kelly’s side, staring at the binder and then the unit, hoping she had something good. The sheet of paper was segmented into horizontal boxes in which descriptions and numbers sat. It looked like an organized list.

  “These are his work orders.” Kelly tapped her thumb against the final box.

  I scanned it and clenched my jaw.

  Ortiz mimicked me when she saw it.

  “Yeah.” Kelly pointed to the power supply. “The part number matches the one on the bottom of the supply he was testing. It was shipped to him for a diagnosis. Intermittent power failure—cutting off.”

  Power failure was an understatement.

  “It’s way too much of a coincidence for that thing to blow up, shock Milo, and be the newest job he had.” Kelly pointed at another box on the page. It was a date of arrival marker. Milo had gotten the unit earlier today.

  I looked up from the binder to Ortiz, arching a brow. “Still think it’s a stretch?”

  She huffed a breath. Ortiz crossed her arms, and I could see her struggling with the urge to hit me.

  I let my face slip into a neutral mask that would hopefully keep her from following through on that desire. “Right, so we’ve got foul play. A really weird piece of foul play.”

  Ortiz bit her lip. “But why send this? If it’s something paranormal, why bother making it look like a work accident? If whatever it is can do”—Ortiz nodded to the power supply—“that, what’s the point of using an item to kill?”

  “Weird twist of fate,” said Kelly.

  A series of thuds came from the door.

  We all turned.

  The knocking repeated.

  Kelly shuddered and clutched the binder to her chest. Ortiz’s body stiffened like she was readying for a fight.

  My fingers waggled at my side as I ran through the likely scenarios. I decided on a course of action, and that I wasn’t too bright. “Ortiz?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You still packing?”

  “Both the revolver and my service weapon.”

  Of course she was. Ortiz was like my own Rambo, but smaller and scarier. I moved towards the door, letting my hand fall to the knob. My fingers gripped it, and I wrenched it open, preparing for the worst.

  He didn’t look old enough to be out of high school. A shock of blonde hair and an acne-riddled face that looked rougher than some bumpy roads. He was dressed in a beige uniform I’d expect of a delivery man.

  “What?” My lips peeled back in an almost snarl.

  The kid shivered, looking like he would piss his khaki pants. His hand trembled as he presented me with an envelope.

  I took it and turned it over, eyeing both sides. It was completely blank. I arched a brow and stared. “What gives?”

  He shrugged. “I was paid to give it to you.”

  I thanked him by way of a brusque nod.

  He lingered in the doorway, looking at me like there was something else.

  “What?”

  Ortiz cleared her throat as she came to my side. “He wants a tip.”

  Both of my eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Right. Uh, stay in school.” I slammed the door shut.

  Ortiz stared at me, her mouth hanging open. She looked at the door then back to me. “Did you just stiff a kid on a tip?”

  I waggled the envelope at her. “Trust me, I don’t get something like this unless it’s bad news—very bad news.”

  She arched a brow, leaning against the door. “So, you’re going to take it out on the messenger?”

  I shrugged.

  “You can be such a child.”

  I stuck my tongue out and flipped the envelope over, sliding my index finger underneath the flap. Paper tore as I dragged the digit across. My thumb and forefinger slid inside, pinching the letter and pulling it free. I unfolded it with a flick of my wrist.

  Ortiz pushed off the wall, leaning closer to get a better look.

  I eyed her and turned away.

  She let out a little growl.

  I ignored her glare, going over the letter until the end. It was a short message written in elegant, flowing script. The letter ended with an address and a single initial. One that meant trouble. I sighed. “Hey, Ortiz, do you know where this is?” I read the address aloud.

  She shook her head.

  “I do,” said Kelly. “It’s a bar about fifteen minutes from here. Why?”

  Ortiz gave me a silent look that asked the same question.

  “Because I was right. It’s bad news.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Pack up and head home, Kelly.” I waved a hand at her laptop and bag. My face tightened before slipping into a frown as I realized I had left my spare cash in my windbreaker.

  Kelly moved to the couch, collecting her gear and stuffing it into her bag. Once it was done, she rounded on me. The look on her face made it obvious she didn’t intend to go home.

  I looked to Ortiz for help.

  She wore the same look as Kelly.

  A groan worked its way up my throat. I stopped it before it left my mouth, turning it into a long, quiet sigh. “This could get dangerous. No, scratch that. It is going to be dangerous.”

  Both women exchanged a quick look. Their features hardened, as did the resolve in their eyes.

  “You two aren’t going to leave, are you?”

  They shook their heads.

  Ortiz crossed her arms. “There is a paranormal creature hurting people. No one else can deal with it, so I’m going to.”

  I wanted to point out that I could deal with it and planned to. The fire in her eyes made me reconsider voicing that point. “Just promise me that you’ll follow my lead. Look, you want to fight this thing with me, come in on my case? Fine. All I’m
asking is that you trust me where it counts. I know this world. If I tell you to do something”—I eyed both of them—“either of you—you do it.”

  Kelly looked to Ortiz as if waiting for a silent cue.

  Ortiz nodded.

  Kelly did the same.

  I exhaled in relief. “Good. I can’t make any promises about what will happen; I just know it’s not going to be good.”

  “Is he always this negative?” Kelly shouldered her bag, looking at Ortiz for an answer.

  The agent rolled her eyes and moved to open the door. “No. Sometimes he’s just a wiseass.” Her tone made it sound like more of an insult than a compliment, but I knew she meant it as the latter.

  Nothing is wrong with being a wiseass.

  Ortiz swung the door open, heading out of the hall without waiting for us. Kelly brushed past me in pursuit.

  Something tugged at me to stop and give Milo’s place one last look. Part of it was sentimental. The guy had invited me to a movie night, seemed like a good person, and now he was injured. Maybe if I’d been faster in figuring things out, or even getting back, he’d still be fine. He was another person in the long line hurt by the paranormal.

  The other half of it was intuition. I walked back to the workbench. Caution dictated that I unplug the little death box from the socket. I grabbed a bit of the cord still protected by its covering and tugged. The plug came free and clunked against the surface of the table. I lifted the box to my face. It wasn’t the best idea. I shut my eyes and inhaled.

  A resounding thud echoed as the box landed on the table. One of its pointed corners left a pea-sized indent in the wood. The box may have left my hands, but the smell remained. It took me a bit to work through the burnt plastic and smoke. There was an underlying odor that matched the one in Daniel’s bedroom.

  The creature was smart enough to target people using their livelihoods. That’s never a good sign. And it meant I had to brush up on Daniel’s neighbors the next chance I had. My fingers closed around the letter until it crumpled. I stuffed it into my pocket. A series of dull knocks sounded from behind me, prompting me to turn.

  Kelly’s head hung past the doorframe, the rest of her body out of sight as she knocked again. “You coming?”