Grave Dealings

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Grave Dealings Page 31

by R. R. Virdi


  Daniel gave her a look that was a solid “no” in any language. He grabbed the handle to his door and made his way inside. There was no effort to keep the door from slamming shut.

  Cold.

  My stomach felt like a dry towel wrung of all moisture. I thought Daniel had had a thing for Ortiz, but there he was kissing Caroline. He may have been dead, but I had to sit and pick up the tab for his guilt.

  Feeling everything the original owners of the bodies do is a mixed blessing. It helps keep me grounded in being human, in remembering why I do my job. Other times, it sucks. It makes me wish I could be empty—free—and just hunt monsters.

  People’s problems complicate the job.

  “Daniel?” Caroline’s mouth spread into half-smile. It was a weak thing but carrying a bit of hope. A light glow made its way into her eyes. It was like looking into pools of watered-down brandy.

  “Sorry. A lot going through my head right now.”

  She pursed her lips and looked away for a second. “I know. I feel the same. We haven’t... It’s been a while. I thought you stopped showing up to these because of what—” She broke off and shrugged.

  I assumed she meant the kiss in the hall. It wasn’t a subtle letdown.

  “No, you’re good—fine. I’m sorry.”

  She looked mollified by that. Her posture loosened. The baggy clothing she wore seemed to hang off her. If any more dried paint speckled her sleeveless shirt, it’d be passable as a Pollock work. She brushed her hands against her macaroon-colored canvas pants. It was a nervous gesture she repeated.

  “Our last conversation ended abruptly.” I rubbed the back of my neck and looked away. It was true.

  “More like awkwardly.”

  “That too. How are things?”

  Her face tightened. “You mean after I pulled my work from your gallery? Not good.” She followed the comment with a bitter laugh. “Going solo online and on commission hasn’t been great. I’m barely eking by.”

  Another freelancer. Something didn’t add up. She hadn’t had a lucky break. Caroline made it clear there was no wind of fortune on her side.

  Maybe she hadn’t made a deal with whatever I was hunting.

  She took a step closer, reaching out with an unsteady hand.

  My nose twinged under the smell of something that tried too hard to be perfume. It was an overpowering chemical cocktail.

  Sunuvabitch. I shut my eyes and thought back to Daniel’s apartment. During my earlier search, I’d come across a series of drawings by the man. One of them was a picture of a beautiful woman that was none other than Camilla Ortiz. Another figure hung in the background at the edge of a street corner. A woman with frizzy hair. A woman Daniel had some affection for.

  And a monster loomed over them both in the drawing.

  Caroline was involved somehow.

  Daniel suffered through what I had thought was a nightmare involving the monster. I bet he had thought it was nothing more than a dream as well. It hadn’t been. The poor guy had woken up to find it stalking him.

  Stalking him the way Caroline appeared to have done.

  It wasn’t difficult to pin her perfume to what I had found while searching his drawers. Besides the financial statements, there were a handful of letters that I hadn’t opened, but they reeked of the same odor. Letters from her no doubt.

  I needed to skip out on movie night and go through those envelopes. Missing something wasn’t an option.

  Someone knocked on the door.

  Ashton clapped his hands together. “Took her long enough.” He jogged over and opened the door.

  Anna stood there.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Seconds ticked by before I realized my mouth hung open in silence. It should’ve occurred to me that she might have shown up. Ashton was her colleague, so it wasn’t a stretch to figure they were friends.

  I didn’t know if she fit into this, and if so, how. Anna wasn’t one of Daniel’s neighbors, but if she came around to movie night often enough, it might have put her in the monster’s crosshairs.

  She looked good. That was saying something considering she hadn’t bothered dressing up. Anna wore a simple clover-green shirt under a slim-fitting leather jacket. She had on the kind of jeans you could pluck cheap from a discount store, and comfortable sneakers. Some people can make casual look great.

  Anna caught my stare, giving Ashton a warm smile before heading my way. She looped her thumbs through the belt hoops at the front of her pants and rocked in place. “Looks like you’re going to have that chance to get me a tuna melt after all.” Her voice was strained, like she’d spent a lot of time yelling. The skin under her eyes looked like she hadn’t slept well the night before.

  “You look like you need a solid eight hours of shut-eye more than a sandwich.”

  She shrugged and returned a weary smile.

  “Long day?”

  “Yeah. It’s getting better though. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  The feeling was mutual.

  “Back atchya.”

  I needed to find a tactful way to ditch the little get-together, especially since Daniel had missed a couple of these already. People would notice if I slipped out without a word. Anna gave me that way.

  “Hey, did you just get off?”

  She waggled her hand. “Been a little more than an hour. I changed at work, then hopped the metro down here.”

  If she’d just come off a shift at the hospital, there was a chance she had an update on Milo. Being one of Ashton’s coworkers, she might have some idea about who his friends were. I hoped that was the sort of thing that didn’t go unnoticed in hospitals.

  “Mind if I ask a work-related question?”

  She exhaled through her nose. “Damn, a girl can’t catch a break.”

  “Sorry, but it’s important.”

  “Important as in about you and Ashton’s mutual friend?”

  Phew. A silent thanks ran through my head for her diligence and attention to detail.

  “Yeah, him. How’s he doing?”

  I would have killed for her to give me that weak smile from moments ago.

  Anna’s gaze fell to the floor like it was an interesting thing to look at. Her face went through a series of empty motions. They were the kind that came with a lot of practice in working up to relay bad news.

  An oily hand squeezed my guts and twisted. I worked to bury the discomfort and worry. “Anna?”

  “Your friend, Milo—things didn’t look good for him when I checked up. The burns aren’t fatal.” She swallowed and looked back up at me.

  “But?”

  “But it sounds like they were caused by electrocution. Whatever it was, it left his heart in bad shape. I don’t know if he’ll recover. If he does, he might be living with a pacemaker. I’m not a doctor, but what I heard didn’t sound good.”

  I shut my eyes as countless obscenities rang through my skull. Each one toned like a hammer striking a gong.

  It was my job to stop things like this from happening.

  My marrow felt like it was set to boil and that I’d soon burn from the inside out.

  It took a trio of breaths to get my mind sorted enough to work through things.

  I held out my hand towards Anna. “Mind if I borrow your phone? Mine’s, uh, broken.”

  She didn’t miss a beat, reaching for the hefty burgundy purse hanging from a shoulder. Anna tugged the zipper aside and dove in with a hand. She produced the phone in seconds, turning it over in her grip and passing it to me the right way up.

  I took it and tipped it in her direction as a way of silent thanks. I glanced at the phone and realized she’d left it unlocked and opened to her address book. A particular number was highlighted: work.

  “I figured you wanted to call in and check up on him. I don’t know if he’ll be able to answer the phone. His mother seemed in better shape though. It’s sometimes hard to tell with people’s age, you know? But she was coherent, talking, and eating. All
good signs.” A modicum of cheer returned to Anna’s voice and face.

  “Thanks. Any idea how I might be able to get in touch with someone else?”

  She arched a brow.

  “I’ve got a friend who went in to check on Milo.”

  Anna’s hand went to her hair, tugging on it compulsively. She licked her lips and looked like she was struggling to process. “Right. If they’re still there in his room, you...you can have your call directed to the in-room phone. Hopefully they will pick up. It’d be easier to call them directly though.”

  I shrugged and gave her an apologetic look. “Her number was on my old phone. Can’t recall.” I tapped a finger to the side of my head.

  “Right.” Anna fished a pocket-sized flip-mirror from her purse. She thumbed it open, glancing at herself. “I’m going to go to the bathroom and freshen up. You weren’t kidding. I could use some sprucing up.”

  I held up a finger. “I definitely did not say that.”

  She waved me off. “It’s okay.” Anna didn’t give me a chance to reply, passing by me and heading down the narrow hall away from the kitchen.

  I moved over to a corner of Ashton’s apartment. Satisfied there were no lingering ears in my direction, I swiped away from the address book and brought up the dialing screen.

  There was another way to get in touch with Ortiz despite not knowing her number. I had committed another one to memory after a particular case in New York. Rummaging through my journal to retrieve a number wasn’t convenient or always an option.

  I dialed the number, crossing a pair of mental fingers that they would be in a helping mood. The line trilled with no sign of ending. I blew out a breath.

  “Hello.” The speaker sounded like she was on a helium diet.

  “Get Gnosis on the line.”

  There was a pause.

  That always bodes well.

  “He’s not speaking to you.”

  I blinked. “He’s not what? You tell that curmudgeonly garden ornament to—”

  The line clicked.

  “Hello? Smurfette? Shit.” I redialed and stretched my mouth into a wide and artificial smile. “Be nice. Be nice. It’s not that hard. She’s just the help. Don’t shoot the messenger.” I mumbled the mantras to myself as the phone rang.

  At least it wasn’t sent directly to voicemail.

  The line went live, but there was no sound.

  I exhaled loud enough to ensure they heard me. “So, that started out wrong. Hi. Can you put me through to Gnosis, please?”

  Silence.

  “Tell him it’s in his best interest. If I end up whacked by a monster—permanently speaking—he can forget collecting on what I owe.” I flooded my voice with enough stone to bluff a career gambler. “And the way things are going, there’s a good chance I might not make it out. Your call.”

  The silence endured.

  “Wait one moment.” The living squeaky toy put me on hold.

  I sighed.

  The phone got halfway through a ring before someone answered.

  “Graves.” He sounded like he made a habit of drinking a cocktail of smoke and gravel.

  “The one and only. I need a small favor, Gnosis.”

  I imagined the patriarch of all gnomes was lounging in an expensive leather recliner while he listened to my plea. The bearded little creature probably had a smug smile plastered over his face. I had no doubts that he was contemplating how he’d squeeze another IOU out of me.

  “I’m listening, Graves. What is it?”

  “I need you to connect me to Camilla Ortiz. My timeline’s running short. I’ve got bits and pieces of clues, and something big is at work.”

  Gnosis inhaled, sounding like he was taking a long drag of something. A cigar, I wagered. “Define big.”

  I bit back the short joke on the tip of my tongue. “As in something’s trading favors for favors, and I’m not so sure the stakes end there.”

  “They usually don’t. Clarify what you mean by favors.”

  “Like people are getting big breaks in their luck overnight, and I can’t pin down what exactly they’re giving up to earn them. But a credible...ish source hinted that it’s favors. Good enough.”

  “My assistant said you threatened to balk on our deal if I didn’t do this. Blackmailing me isn’t a good idea, Graves.”

  “I said there was a chance I might not make it out of this alive. If that happens, your deal’s nixed. Difference.”

  “You’re lucky I desire that favor.”

  I opened my mouth to counter with a witty retort.

  The line clicked and morphed into the unmistakable sound of a dial tone.

  “Hello?”

  “Ortiz, it’s me.”

  “I never gave you my cell number. Daniel’s is busted. How are you calling me?”

  “Magic.” I waggled my fingers.

  I could almost hear her blink on the other end of the line.

  “I swear, if you’re waggling your fingers in that stupid gesture, I’m going to break them.”

  “I’m not.” I stopped moving my fingers. “So, what have you got?”

  She exhaled. “You’re not going to like it. I know you didn’t know him, but Daniel did.”

  No.

  “Milo’s gone.”

  Silence returned. I only wished it permeated my skull and chest. Two different kinds of beats filled me. The sound of my heart was like listening to someone pounding on a plastic bucket. A cheap, hollow sound. My temples chimed like a xylophone playing without pause.

  A minute passed before I could summon the words. “Oh.” It wasn’t much in the way of words, but my usual hyper-verbal self couldn’t be bothered. “How’d he go?”

  “You won’t believe me, but...he just sort of passed on.”

  It took me longer than I cared to admit to process that. “What do you mean? He just flatlined?”

  “Yes. His heart was doing fine. He was recovering.”

  Which contradicted what Anna had said.

  “The doctor said he’d recover. I flashed my credentials and explained I was a personal friend as well. Kelly and I sat outside his room. Fifteen minutes later, people rushed into his room because he was crashing. I got worried when everything went quiet.”

  I held my breath, waiting for her to go on.

  “One of the nurses—Anna—came out and gave us the news. She—”

  “What? You sure that was her name? Describe her?”

  Ortiz took a sharp breath. She was miffed about being interrupted. But she summed Anna up.

  Each word was like a cold stone dropping into the pit of my stomach. She pegged Anna the way only a federal agent could. We were talking about the same woman.

  “Ortiz, that’s not possible. She’s here—right now—at this party. I’m using her phone.”

  “Shit, you don’t think...” Her voice hardened.

  “I’m about to find out.”

  “Wait, Vincent. There’s something else.” She went quiet after that.

  I swallowed, hesitant to ask. “Uh-huh?”

  “Kelly went to go check on Milo’s mother. The doctor said it was like Milo’s body had fully shut down. His heart didn’t seem to fail so much as everything did. Breathing and heartbeat went out together. They were even monitoring his brain activity. There was a worry he might have taken some damage from the electrical shock. His brain shut down at the same time. It was like someone flipped a switch and turned Milo off.”

  I rubbed a hand across my face. “Right, and Kelly feared the same thing could happen to his mother. She’s off on her own...while we have a monster loose.”

  “Find Anna. I’ll grab Kelly and get out of here. We’ll head back to Daniel’s place.”

  “Stay on the line.” I turned on my heel and raced towards the bathroom, ignoring the odd stares from the other guests. A silent hope filled me that I’d find Anna before Ortiz did.

  I stopped in front of the door I believed to be the bathroom and formed a fist. My knuckle
s bounced off the door several times. “Anna?”

  No reply.

  My fingers closed around the knob and I turned it, pushing the door open.

  The bathroom was cramped. A sink over a wooden counter that jutted out too far and was made from cheap wood. The pale yellow curtains were pulled back to reveal the shower. It was a plain setup like you’d expect for a bachelor’s place.

  There was one problem. No Anna.

  I hadn’t seen her mingling with the group.

  The room smelled like someone had emptied an entire can of citrus cleaner.

  My eyes widened, and I turned to the mirror.

  Shit. Of course.

  This freak could go into mirrors. What’s to say it couldn’t move through a network of them? Things started snapping into place, and I had an idea of what we were dealing with.

  I put the phone back to my ear. “Ortiz, tell me you found Kelly. Tell me you’re getting out of there.”

  “I found her. News isn’t good. You don’t sound great yourself. What’s wrong?”

  “Stay away from any mirrors.”

  “What?”

  “Do it. Get out of any rooms that have them. Start moving now. I think I know what we’re up against, and it can move through mirrors—any mirrors.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’ve got a—” I stopped as the mirror shimmered. A flare of molten orange light rippled through its surface. The light coalesced into twin orbs, hanging a few inches apart from one another. They looked like eyes.

  Eyes of glowing, fiery orange are never reassuring.

  The smell of citrus increased.

  “Clever boy,” said the freaking mirror. It was Anna’s voice.

  I snapped my recently healed hand towards the voice. Scalding hot glass shattered. Heated daggers bit into the skin of my fingers and knuckles.

  The pungent smell of oranges died with the light.

  My chest heaved while I panted, waiting for the voice to return.

  It didn’t.

 

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