“And why are my knees killing me?” the other guy said.
“I’m gonna find whoever sold us whatever it was we took and kick his ass!” Drey said.
They staggered off in the opposite direction. Avis, Tarren, and I looked at each other and busted up.
“Oh my god!” I said. “What kind of spell was that?”
Tarren could barely catch her breath, she was giggling so much. She clutched her sides and said, “That’s not what I meant! I was trying to make him freeze. I thought he was sneaking out a knife. But my brain got all confused. Sneak? Freeze? Which was the right word? I couldn’t spit it out right. I got all jumbled and it came out freak sneeze and then instead of no sneeze, I yelled snow knees!”
Avis and I lost it again.
“I thought it was some kind of ancient faerie curse you were throwing at them,” I told her.
“The curse of the freak sneeze and snowy knees!” Tarren boomed in a deep, ominous voice then cracked up again. “Handed down for generations.”
“Dang, I thought their eyes were going to pop out of their heads,” Avis said. “I thought their noses were gonna fly off their faces and circle the moon. Those were some freaky sneezes all right.” Then he slung his arm around Tarren’s slim shoulders. “You’re something else, Tarren baby.” He kissed the top of her head. “But at least you saved us from that phone.” He looked at me. “What did you think he was going to do, Josie? Post a vid on YouTube of Johann getting his booty kicked? Call Big Ron to send some hookers over to beat us senseless with their tube tops?”
“Sorry.” I winced. “I thought it was a knife. I got a little carried away.”
“So did Johann,” Tarren said, and we all cracked up again. “Where do you think they’re off to?”
“Oh my god, I have to tell Helios this.” I pulled out my phone and started texting him about the piggyback ride and mixed-up hexes.
“Where is he anyway?” Tarren asked.
I shrugged. “Some family thing came up.” I caught a weird, worried look between Tarren and Avis. “What?” I asked, mid-text.
“Nothing,” Avis said. “His family can be…” he trailed off.
“Difficult,” Tarren finished.
“You think he’s okay?” I asked, my thumb hovering over the SEND button.
“Sure,” Avis said. “Our boy can take care of himself.” He paused and then added, “And if he can’t, we’ll just send Kayla in for him.” He snickered again. “That girl picked up Johann and slung him on her back like she was a mama gorilla running from a lion! And he’s all bouncing around yelling, ‘Nothing can separate us!’ like he was the one doing the rescuing.”
Tarren nodded her head and beamed. “Yeah, I told you my girl KK is all right.”
“Your girl?” I asked. “You didn’t even want to help her yesterday.”
Tarren shrugged. “That was before I knew her.”
“And now?” I asked.
She looked out over the grassy field where Kayla trotted off with Johann on her back. “Well, now, I guess, I sort of…”
I filled in the blank. “Want to help?”
She looked at me. “Not you, Josie,” she said. “I want to help her.”
chapter 16
on the way back to Tarren’s to find Johann and Kayla, we turned a corner and were across the street from HAG. Tarren grabbed Avis and me by the elbows and yanked us behind a big sycamore tree. “We need more information about that place,” she said.
“I tried Googling it…” I peeked around the tree at the nondescript cement block building.
“For spriggan’s sake,” Tarren said. “How many times do I have to tell you that the Internet is not a good source of information.”
“Are you out of your mind?!” I said. “Do you know how many websites are dedicated to stuff like this? My old boyfriend always went to this demon hunter site and—”
Avis cut me off. “The stuff you find online is not authentic, Josie. You can’t hunt a ghost with a phone app. You can’t build a demon-o-meter with a DustBuster and a satellite dish. Real paras keep as low a profile as possible. You’re not going to find pix of the latest shape-shifter reunion at the Marriot posted on Facebook. We just don’t do it.”
“Well,” I said at a loss. “Then how do you propose we get more info then, the library?”
Tarren stared at me, waiting.
“I was joking about the library,” I muttered, but she kept on staring. “What?”
“You have to go in there, Josie,” she told me.
“Me? Why me? What am I going do?”
Tarren flittered around me like a sweaty bee. “You’re the only one who has access. Kayla can’t go back yet. She’d be in danger. You know that. And Avis can’t go waltzing in there. Helios has already been in. And Johann…?” She stopped and rolled her eyes.
“You do it, then,” I said. “Now that you’re Miss Helpy McHelpson. BFF with KK.”
Tarren sighed. She reached out and laid her small hand on my arm. “Josie,” she said sweetly. “Please don’t be jealous of my friendship with Kayla. She’s your friend, too. We all want to help, but obviously I have no legitimate reason to go inside. You, however, have the perfect excuse! And you’d be so good at it! You can ask questions, snoop a little, interview some of the other girls. Isn’t that what investigative reporting is all about?”
I leaned back against the rough bark of the tree and stared at her. “You’re reverse Josie-ing me.”
“I’m what?” she asked all innocent, but she wasn’t an idiot and neither was I.
“Giving me a dose of my own homeo-pathetic remedy,” I told her.
She dropped the fairy cheerleader act, crossed her arms, stuck one hip out, and leveled with me. “Okay, look, whatevs. You’re right. I’m trying to sweet-talk you, but only because it’s such a good idea, so why don’t you grow a pair and do it already?”
“What if Ms. Babineaux and Maron know I’m the one who sneaked Kayla out?” I whisper-whined.
Tarren rolled her eyes. “How would they know that? She was with Helios. They don’t know Helios. They don’t know that you know Helios. So you’re safe.”
“Okay, but what if there really is some kind of soul-sucking demon in there and I’m its lunch? Why can’t you send the paranormal police in there, or call up one of those Council members you’re always yammering about?”
“You know we can’t do that,” Tarren said as if that was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard. “And anyway if there’s something in there, it goes for vulnerable girls who’ve got no one watching out for them. They know you have a family to go home to and a court order to be there. If you go missing, people are going to ask questions. But those girls, Kayla and the others and whoever’s next…” She trailed off and shook her head. “Who’s looking out for them?”
I moaned. She had me. “Hoisted on my own petard,” I muttered.
“Who you calling a retard?” Avis asked.
“Never mind,” I said and I knew then that I was going to do it because she was right. I wouldn’t abandon those girls when they needed me. “Fine. But if I’m not back at your place in two hours, you have to call my cell and make sure I’m okay.”
“You got it,” Avis said.
“Really?” I asked. “Because I’m freaking out over here.”
He reached out and patted my shoulder. “We’ve got your back.”
I looked at Tarren. “Me, too,” she assured me. Then she thumped her fist against her chest and said, “Blood.”
“What are you doing here?” Maron snapped from behind the reception desk when I walked in through the front door.
Good question, what was I doing there? “I, um, can’t make my shift later this week,” I lied. “So I wanted to do a makeup now. Is that okay?”
She worked her tongue in her mouth like she had got something stuck between her teeth—flesh of girls, perhaps, but then she said, “Yeah, fine, what do I care?” That came as a relief. At least she didn’t clock
me on the head with a tire iron and drag my body into a dungeon for some demon to consume my essence. At least not yet.
“What would you like me to do?” I asked.
“I’ve already got someone scrubbing the johns,” Maron said. “Why don’t you change the sheets?”
In the utility room, I looked around furtively. Washer. Dryer. Linens. Cleaning supplies. A mop. What was I looking for? It occurred to me that I had no idea. What did we think I’d find? A hidden door in the wall? Secret surveillance tapes? A dead body stuffed in the laundry shoot? Eeeeh. That gave me the shivers. I didn’t even want to find that. Plus I was inside a glorified cleaning closet so unless they were Lysoling the girls to death, I wasn’t going to find anything concrete to confirm my suspicions. Which meant Tarren was right; I was going to have to think like an investigative reporter.
On my way to the dorm room, I got a text from Helios and I’ll admit, my cheeks got warm and my heart sped up when I saw his name on my tiny screen. Ah, distraction! His text said, I miss all the fun.
I texted back, Not all of it. I’m at HAG now.
A minute later this popped up, Don’t fall asleep on the job, ha-ha!
Very funny, I texted back. I’m freaking out!
In the dorm, all the beds were unmade, except for two, which must have meant that those two beds weren’t occupied the night before. I poked my head into the hall. No one was around so I started snooping to confirm my theory. Quietly I riffled through the top drawer of the nightstands beside the made-up beds. In one I found a tattered copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, the book Kayla had been reading. Beside the nightstand was a cheap particle board wardrobe. I opened the door and saw jeans, sweatshirts, and blue and green Pumas neatly stowed away. On the top shelf was a duffle bag with Kayla’s name on the luggage tag.
In the other nightstand, I found a bunch of trashy magazines but under that I found Sadie’s ID card from Bean Blossom High School. I felt queasy looking at her picture. She was so young and sweet. How could anyone ever hurt her? I opened her wardrobe, but it was empty. Only a few wire hangers and a pink sock remained. Everything else, no doubt, had been hauled out to the Dumpster, erasing any evidence that Sadie had ever been here. On impulse, I grabbed the school ID and shoved it in my back pocket. Then I gathered all the linens into a giant laundry bag and dragged it to the washer.
On my way to find sheets to put on the beds, I heard someone cleaning the toilet stalls. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Maron wasn’t watching then I ducked into the bathroom. “Hey there. Who’s that?” I called out as I rounded the stall. A pale brunette girl my height peeked around the edge of the stall. She had that same frightened look that Sadie had the last time I saw her, like a little kid in a haunted house. “How’s it going?” I asked.
“Fine,” she said with no emotion, then she pushed her hair out of her face with the back of her hand and I saw a small tattoo on her wrist.
I gasped and reached for her hand. She instinctively stepped back, but not quickly enough. I pulled her arm straight and looked at the tattoo—a small butterfly. “Is your name Eleanor? Are you from Elkhart?”
The girl stared at me and I thought I saw the slightest glimmer of recognition in her eyes. It reminded me of how my grandfather with Alzheimer’s would become lucid for a minute then disappear again into his own lost world.
I stepped closer to her and said quietly, “Do you need help?” but before she could answer, there was a commotion in the hall. I saw Maron pulling Ms. Babineaux past the door toward the reception area.
“A reporter?” Ms. Babineaux asked.
“Some alternative paper,” Maron told her.
“Why didn’t you get rid of him?” Ms. Babineaux said, but then they were down the hall, so I didn’t hear the answer.
As much as I wanted to grill the girl on whether she was the person I saw on the Missing Children website or if she knew Sadie or Rhonda or how she ended up at HAG, I was more interested in knowing what reporter was there. I dropped her arm. “Wait here. I’ll be back.” Then I headed for the front.
I slipped into the day lounge beside the reception area. The ugly brown plaid couch faced away from the front desk, so I crawled onto it and hid. I could hear whoever was with Ms. Babineaux and Maron, but they couldn’t see me. Peeking over the top of the couch, I saw Ms. Babineaux. She looked withered and old again, like she did when I first met her. She was so skinny I could see her pale hip bones poking out from the top of her slacks.
“This is a private facility, buddy,” Maron said.
I peeked a little bit higher and saw a man in wire-rimmed glasses and an army jacket. I nearly popped up and shouted, Graham Goren! I couldn’t believe that my idol from Nuevo Indy was standing right there. But I refrained and instead ducked down so I could listen without being detected.
“You receive public funding, don’t you?” he asked.
“We’re not going to say anything about confidential cases,” Ms. Babineaux told him. “That would betray the trust of our girls.”
My jaw dropped. Their girls! Barfity barf barf. More like their victims.
“How many facilities do you run?” he asked.
This seemed to catch both of them off guard. Maron stammered then said, “Just this one.”
“What about the other Helping American Girls in Fort Wayne and Terre Haute?” he asked.
Maron sputtered, “Oh those? That was a confusing question…I didn’t know what you meant…”
I couldn’t help but smile. For me, listening to a good journalist work was like a sports nut watching a slam dunk. Goren kept grilling them. “And about how many girls go missing from each facility a month?”
“Hey look, buddy,” Maron said. “The girls who come here are a mess. And this is voluntary. Girls are free to come and go as they please.”
“We wish they would all stay until the dedicated staff could get them straightened out but the truth is, many of these girls are on drugs or engage in prostitution or theft,” Ms. Babineaux said.
I popped up from the couch. What a crock! Kayla, Rhonda, Sadie, and the other girls didn’t do those things. Drey said so. I realized that I was about to blow my cover and I ducked down again.
Maron went on. “I love them all like a mother, but sometimes they decide life on the street is what they want. I can’t stop them.”
She needed a shovel for all the manure she was slinging! Like a good reporter, Goren seemed skeptical.
“I spoke with several other halfway house facilities in the state and they said they have less than one girl a month take off without informing the staff. But my sources tell me that your average is much higher. Why do you think that is?”
“Your sources?” Ms. Babineaux’s voice was stiff. “And just who are these sources?”
There was part of me that wanted to jump over the back of the couch and scream, ME! I’m the source and I’m on to you, you evil hags. Then I’d poke my finger into their chests and throw questions at them like a super journalist. Wear them down. Catch one of them in a lie and make her admit the truth. But I remembered what Charles always said about staying calm and assessing the situation before acting. Jumping over a couch would probably not be the best lead-in to questioning. Plus I was such a spaz that I would probably fall over the couch and break my arm, so I sat tight, but oh, my blood was beginning to boil.
“My sources are confidential,” Graham Goren said. “But I can say that it’s someone who is familiar with your facility from the inside.”
“A client or a worker?” Maron asked. Her voice was so ominous. I imagined her cracking her knuckles and rolling her head from left to right, ready to tear the squealer limb from limb. And since that squealer was me, my stomach went all queasy.
“I can’t say,” Goren told her. Then he changed tacks. “I’d like to talk with some of the girls here,” he said, as if it was the most reasonable request in the world.
Ms. Babineaux scoffed. “You most certainly may not. And we have
to get back to work so you’ll need to go now.”
“That’s fine,” Goren said, all professional and polite. “Thank you for your time.”
Whoa. I could never be that calm in a million years. But obviously I was going to have to learn if I want a job like his. I waited until I heard the front door open, then close. I strained my ears to catch what Atonia and Maron were saying, but I heard nothing. Did they leave? Were they following him? Would they unleash an evil succubus to feast on his brain then drag his carcass to the Dumpster? Slowly I rose up from the couch and peered over the edge. I saw them, standing close, whispering, but not before Maron saw me.
“What do you think you’re doing here?”
I stood up and said loudly, “I finished the beds!” I grabbed some throw pillows and fluffed them as Atonia and Maron stared at me. “Just straightening up in here now.” I tossed the pillows onto the couch. I did an exaggerated glance at the clock. “Wow! Have two hours passed already? I’ve got to get going. Can’t stay long today. I have to leave early. I mentioned that, didn’t I?” I babbled on and on as I made a beeline past them straight for the front door. “That was a good productive work day. Doing laundry. All in a good day’s work. See you again soon!”
“Hold on just a second,” Maron barked right as I reached the door.
I paused with my hand pressed against the glass.
“What’s going on here?” Ms. Babineaux asked, as if she was trying to put all the pieces together. Her eyes widened, then they narrowed. If she could shoot fire from her retinas, I would have been a smoking lump of ashes.
I decided I didn’t want to be a part of that jigsaw puzzle. “Have to go! Uh, um, dentist appointment. Can’t be late!” I said and ran through the door before they could stop me.
I ran down the block and around the corner toward Tarren’s house, looking back over my shoulder the whole time in case they unleashed a fury of wraiths to come after me. Which meant I didn’t see where I was going and I ran smack into someone in the middle of the sidewalk. I stumbled to the side, caught a glimpse of the army jacket, and fell over into the grass.
Josie Griffin Is Not a Vampire Page 13