by Wendy Wang
“It was a slight miscalculation on my part,” Ben said. “I thought she was in mortal danger. That's why I intervened.”
“I'm sure. Did you do this?” Tom asked, pointing to all the damage in her living room.”
“No,” Ben said. “I'm only responsible for the door. The rest was all that nasty spirit.”
“How did it get onto the property? I thought Evangeline had locked it up tight.” Tom asked.
“I don't know,” Charlie said.
“Hey, if the spirit wants to get in some place and it still has enough emotion fueling it, there's no ward in the world that will hold it back. Even salt can only protect to a certain extent,” Ben chimed in. “The only thing I've ever seen that could keep the spirit contained is this.”
Ben pulled his gold amulet from his pocket. Charlie could feel it across the room pulsing with energy. She had never seen anything like it before.
“Where did you get that?” Charlie asked.
“Egypt.” Ben held it up and they could see it glowed faintly. He palmed it and put it back into his pocket. “On my very first mission for the DOL.”
“Oh,” Charlie said.
“So you're a witch?” Tom asked.
“I am. A highly trained, exceptionally skilled witch.” Ben said.
“Well it's good to see that you don't lack self-confidence,” Charlie said wryly.
“Well least I understand my powers. Which is more than I can say for you.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” She shifted her stance, putting her hands on her hips to challenge him.
“Exactly what you think it means.” Ben said.
“I think you should leave now,” Charlie said. “But you need to fix my door first.”
“Fine.” Ben said. “I'll contact you in the morning. Then I'll take your statement and you don't have to worry about this case any longer.”
“We'll that's not happening. I plan on seeing this through to the end.”
“That's not how I work, honey,” Ben said. “And you would do well not to interfere with a DOL investigation.”
“Now wait a minute . . .” Charlie started.
“No, Charlie he's right.” Tom took Charlie by the elbow and pulled her back a step. “You should give him your statement and then let him do his work.”
Charlie glared at Tom, giving him a have-you-lost-your-mind look.
There is another way. Tom's silky reaper voice slid through Charlie's brain. She shook her head, a little unsure if she had heard him say that out loud or just in her mind. There is another way. Trust me. The voice said again. She was staring at Tom's lips and they had not moved so it had to be in her head.
She relented. “Fine. Have it your way.” She turned to Ben. “I'll meet you at the Kitchen Witch Café tomorrow at 9 AM. Don't be late because I have to be at work by 11.”
Ben shook his head. “I was thinking we would do this in a more private place.”
“No way,” Charlie said. “This has to be someplace public. I don't trust you. For all I know you could mess with my memory and I'm not having that.”
Ben's jaw tightened, and he blew out an audible sigh. “Fine. The Kitchen Witch Café it is.”
Charlie watched as he turned to her front door. He held his hands out and a glowing green plasma began to circle each of his fists. He stretched his fingers forward directing them toward the door. The splinters came flying off the floor, rejoining the wood until they were one piece again. The cracks in the white paint married together forming a perfectly smooth surface, and it looked as if the injury to the door had never occurred. When he was done he closed his fingers and the green light dissipated like mist on a sunny day.
“See? All better.” He smiled wide, his charm apparent again. Charlie bristled. “I'll see you at 9 AM on the dot.”
He turned and walked out the door closing it tight behind him.
Charlie blew out a breath. “Well that was just the most bizarre experience I think I've ever had.”
“That's saying a lot,” Tom said grinning. “I truly am sorry that I didn't get here in time to capture the spirit.”
“It's okay,” Charlie said. “I'm sorry I didn't catch him. It would've made it easy for you to transport him.”
“Indeed,” Tom said. “So you'll be working tomorrow I take it.”
“I will. I have to work from 11 to 7 tomorrow. Why?”
“I wanted to show you something related to your curse.” Tom walked to the door, inspecting Ben's handiwork.
“Why didn't you tell Ben when he was here?”
He turned back to Charlie, apparently satisfied the door would hold. “For the same reason you didn't want to meet him in private. I don't trust him.”
“All right. What is it you want to show me?”
“I received Debra Duguid's body tonight. That's why I didn't hear you immediately. I was working on her.”
A chill raced down Charlie's spine. The image of Tom slicing into Debra's body and draining it of its blood flashed through her head. She shuddered.
“Okay,” Charlie said. “I'm not quite following you. What does that have to do with the curse?”
“Her official cause of death was a stroke. But I have reason to believe that she was actually murdered. Just not in the typical fashion.”
“What makes you say that?” she asked, alarm tingling along her arms.
“Because she has a glowing mark on her head. I've only seen something like it one other time about 100 years ago. I was working in England at the time. In a small village and a man who had died was brought to me. He had a very similar mark on his chest. Everyone in the village was convinced he had been cursed by a local woman they believed to be witch.”
“What happened to her? The woman they thought was a witch?”
“Not long after that she disappeared. No one knows where to or why. But everyone was relieved that she was gone.”
Charlie shuddered again and took a deep breath.
“You must be exhausted.”
“I am. It's almost 4 o'clock though. I'm tempted to just stay up. I used to do that when Evan was a baby. He'd wake me up at 3 o'clock for a feeding and I wouldn't bother going back to bed. I would finally sleep when he slept.” Charlie settled her gaze on Tom who was watching her thoughtfully. “What?”
“Nothing. I just... I really like it when you tell me stories like that. It makes me feel like we're really friends.”
“We are really friends, Tom. And I like it when you share stories with me, too, even if they are a little creepy sometimes.” She chuckled and wiped her eyes with her palms.
“I should probably go and let you get some sleep.”
Panic wrapped around her heart and gave it a squeeze. She reached for his hand. “No. Wait.”
Tom looked down in wonder at her hand holding his.
“What if he comes back?” she said.
“The spirit?” Tom said.
Charlie nodded.
“Would you like me to stay? I could...” He glanced around toward the couch. “I could straighten things up while you sleep. I don't have any magic but I can certainly clean.”
“No, you don't have to do that. I'll clean it up in the morning. I think I would just feel better knowing you were here.” Charlie gave him a sheepish smile. “That is if you don't mind staying.”
“I'd be happy to.” He surprised her by giving her hand a squeeze.
“I feel like I'm six years old but I'm gonna ask you anyway. Do you think you could lie with me until I fall asleep?”
Tom's eyes widened and his lips curved into a slight smile. “I would be happy to. No funny business, I promise.”
“Can reapers even ... you know ...” Charlie stumbled unsure exactly how to ask her question.
“In this form? Oh yeah,” Tom said softly.
“So you've ...” Charlie's cheeks heated. “You know.”
“I have.” he said, his smile growing brighter. “This has turned into a very interesting conversa
tion.”
“What? You said I could ask you questions. It's not an invitation. More like a request for information,” she said, unable to suppress a laugh.
“All right then. Did that answer your question?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Come on then,” he said pointing back toward the bedroom. “Let's get you into bed.”
Chapter 10
Charlie awoke to the smell of fresh coffee and eggs cooking. Light streamed in through the window of her small bedroom and she raised her arms above her head and stretched her back. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table and remembered the feel of Tom's arms around her as she fell asleep. A smile stretched her lips. She could not remember the last time she'd been in the arms of a man.
But he's not a man, a small voice said. He's a reaper.
Her smile faded from her lips and she pushed the quilt down and got out of bed before the voice could do anymore damage to her mood. She dressed quickly in a pair of jeans and a crisp white T-shirt. She swept her long hair into a messy bun on the back of her head and ambled into the kitchen.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Good morning,” he said scraping scrambled eggs from the cast-iron pan onto a plate. “I've seen you eat this at the café on rare occasions. I didn't know how to make banana pancakes.”
Charlie laughed. “That's okay. I don't know how to make them either. Those are Jen's specialty. I only eat things like pancakes and muffins at the café. I'm not exactly what you would call a cook.”
“Good,” he said. “I was afraid it might be too understated.”
“No,” she smiled. “Scrambled eggs are perfect. And so is fresh coffee.” She pulled two mugs from the shelf and poured herself a cup. “I have teabags in the cupboard if you'd like tea.”
“Coffee's fine,” he said. She nodded and filled his mug with coffee then put them both on the small bistro table. Tom placed the plate of scrambled eggs next to her mug. Charlie dug a fork out of the drawer next to the stove, then took a seat and gobbled down the eggs before they had a chance to get cold.
“These are really good,” she said. “I always have to be careful with eggs because I burn them really easily and my son won't eat them at all if they have even the slightest bit of brown on them.”
“Good to know. And I'm glad that you like them.” He smiled watching her eat.
“Are you going to eat something?”
“Technically I don't really need to eat, just like I don't need to sleep,” he said. “Although I do enjoy food quite a bit.”
“All this time that you've been coming into the café for meals . . .” she said.
“It's mainly because I enjoy human company. And Jen is particularly nice to me. And since you have forgiven me you're pretty nice too.”
Charlie tried to suppress a smile but found it almost impossible to keep her lips from curving up. She tipped her head forward and finished off her eggs.
“That was delicious. I guess we should get going. You still wanted show me the mark right?”
“Yes,” he said. “Especially if it will help you.”
Charlie drove them into town and parked around back of the mortuary next to Tom's black Ford Fusion. She followed him into the building down a hallway she had never seen before until they came to a pair of double doors. Tom put his hand out as if to push the door open and Charlie panicked.
“Wait,” her voice squeaked.
Tom stopped and shifted his attention to her. He gave her a quizzical look. “What's wrong?”
“I don't think I can go in there,” Charlie said pressing her hands to her belly.
“Are you feeling ill?” he asked.
“No it's not that. It's just . . . you want me to look at Debra Duguid's dead body. And that is . . . terrifying. I mean Debra was not a pleasant person in life. What if her spirit's in there? I don't know if I'm up for dealing with Debra's contrariness this morning. Especially if it's magnified, which you know happens after someone dies.”
“Very true,” Tom said. “I hadn't thought about that. Although, here's something to think about. If she is in there, I will transform quickly. It usually only takes a few seconds and capture her before she can rage against you.”
Charlie nodded. “All right if you're sure you can do it that quickly.”
“I can. I promise I won't let her hurt you.”
“Just make sure you transform before she can hurt you. Seeing your human form be injured in any way is . . .” she sighed. “Well it's disturbing. More disturbing than just seeing you transform I think.”
“Noted,” he said. “And thank you for telling me that. I feel like we're really making progress in this . . . friendship of ours.”
Charlie gave him a sly smile. “Yes, I guess you could say that. Okay, let's go ahead and do this.”
Tom gave her a quick nod and pushed the door open. He walked in ahead of her and scanned the room. “The coast is clear as they say. There doesn't appear to be any sign of her.”
“Thank god for that,” Charlie said walking into the room. Her breath caught in her throat at the site of the old woman lying face up on the metal table and she stopped in her tracks. Her hand drifted to her mouth, keeping the scream from passing her lips. She crept forward slowly.
“She can't hurt you,” Tom said. “You've seen dead bodies before, haven't you?”
“Yes. Of course, I have. They just usually are in a casket and have some color in their face. I didn't realize how . . .” Charlie swallowed hard. “Bloodless she would look. I mean I saw that man who attacked me. But even he had more color.” Charlie sidled up next to the table staring down at Debra. Her silver hair looked whiter than she remembered. “Why does she look so puffy?”
“The tissues swell sometimes with the embalming fluid and she'll have more color tomorrow. We have a makeup artist who will put a little life back into her skin and dress her.”
“I think this is the most peaceful I've ever seen her look. I don't see the mark. I thought you said it was on her head,” Charlie said.
“Right,” Tom said. “The whole reason we are here. Help me get her onto her side.”
“What?” Charlie took a step back and her lips twisted with disgust.
“Don't worry. I'll do most of the touching. All I need for you to do is lift her hair at the very back of her neck once I get her onto her side. Are you okay with that?”
Charlie grimaced and nodded. “Okay. I can do that.”
Tom carefully shifted Debra's body onto her left side. Charlie combed Debra's soft white hair to the side. She could see the faint glow of the death mark at the base of her skull.
“Yep,” Charlie said grimly. “That's it. Dammit. I want to find who's doing this, but I sure don't want to have to work with that jerk, Ben.”
“Assuming he's even more open to it. Which it doesn't sound like he is. I suppose there's no way to get your deputy friend to help.”
“Nope. Debra died from a stroke. And the spirit who has it in for me, well he died from a head injury. Neither of which are a crime. I guess Jason's department's cutting down on unnecessary expenditures.”
“You may not have a choice then.” Tom said.
“We'll see what I can negotiate. I think there are still things I do that he can't, no matter how skilled he thinks he is.”
“You go girl.” Tom said
Charlie laughed and shook her head. “I'm going to say the same thing that my son says to me when I think I'm being cool. Don't ever say that again.”
Tom feigned being hurt as he gently laid Debra back down on the table. He fussed with the sheet covering the deceased woman's body until it was smooth.
“You know what?” Charlie said.
“What? Tom said.
“I think you really like human beings.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Just the way you are so gentle and respectful of the dead.” She met his gaze without flinching. “And of the living. I think that's why you put
that face on. It's not really to help you catch spirits. You're much more effective in your reaper form at capturing the dead.”
Tom pressed his lips together and nodded his head thoughtfully. “Maybe you're right. Maybe that's exactly why I like being in human form. Because despite all your shortcomings there is still something incredibly admirable about your drive and spirit. I can never be human but when I wear this skin I feel almost like I could be human by association.”
Charlie's phone chirped signaling she had a text. She ignored it until her phone began to vibrate. “I'm sorry.” She glanced down at the phone, worried it might be her son. The name Jason Tate flashed across her screen. She frowned. “I need to take this, I'm sorry. It's Jason.” She pressed the green button and answered hello.
“I'm sorry to bother you this early. But I thought you would want to know. Two bodies were discovered last night with broken necks.”
Charlie's heart turned into a cold rock and dropped into her belly. “Oh my God. Please don't tell me.”
“Yes it was the girl Ryan Whisnant and her mother. There doesn't appear to be a break-in. In fact the doors were locked.”
The dream came back to Charlie, Ryan trying to hide her bruises. “But you think they were murdered?”
“It's looking that way. I can't call it until the corner does, but broken necks don't just happen by themselves,” Jason said.
“Well you should know that he showed up at my house last night.”
“The . . . “ Jason fell silent but Charlie filled in the word that he couldn't say.
“Ghost.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. I'm fine. But we also have another curse victim.”
“Who?”
“Debra Duguid. The wife of Palmetto Points illustrious mayor.”
“Charlie! I thought she died from a stroke.”
“She did. But she also has the mark at the base of her skull. I would bet you that if we opened her skull up that mark would coincide with the bleed in her brain.”
“Well you wanted to me to be involved. I now have something to investigate.”
Charlie rubbed her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut. “I know but not this way. I didn't want anybody to have to die.”