Game's End

by Natasha Deen

  “Can I have some time alone with my dad?”

  “Sure thing, kid. I’ll keep them away until you’re done. I phoned Gregory and let him know what happened, but it was a fast call, and I promised I’d touch base with him, again. I might as well do that, now.” Nancy squeezed my hand, then stepped aside as Hinton led her out.

  I stood, staring at the familiar but foreign face. My dad and not my dad. “Why didn’t you find me? Why aren’t you here?”

  I took a few deep breaths and tried to channel the growing power inside me. But no matter how hard I looked at Dad, I saw nothing but the crushing sense I’d failed him.

  I closed my eyes and called Serge, and wished Craig was back from the other side.

  “Mags.” Serge grabbed me and held me tight. His gaze went to Dad and he started to cry. “Hank was really good to me.” He tightened his hold. “I can’t imagine what it’s like for you. We’ll get through, I promise. I won’t leave you, and we’ll find the guy who did this.”

  “Keep holding me like that, and there won’t be much for us to go through. You’re crushing my chest.”

  “Sorry.” He let go.

  “Tap into your frequency,” I said. “Tell me what there is to see. I tried, but I’m not getting anything.”

  “You’re grieving,” he said. “That’s bound to affect your energy channels.”

  “Maybe.” Maybe I just wasn’t powerful enough. “Do you see any abnormalities?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like a supernatural signature?”

  “You mean the soul-eater?” He circled the table. “You think it took your dad?”

  “Dad wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye, or giving us a message. That thing must have him.”

  “It’s not going to have him for long.” Serge closed his eyes and raised his hand to the ceiling. He took a couple of breaths. Then a few more.

  Hyperventilating. At least I wasn’t the only one.

  When he opened his eyes, they glowed like sapphires caught in the light. “I see something. A mark, on his forehead.”

  “Where, exactly?”

  He pointed at the space between Dad’s eyebrows.

  “What kind of mark is it?” I strained to see what he saw, but my efforts only made my eyes jiggle.

  “It makes no sense.”

  “Just tell me.”

  “It looks like one of those bugs from when I was camping,” he said.

  “That’s even less helpful than what you said before.”

  “I’m trying to remember the name. Give me a second.”

  One Mississippi. “Well?”

  “Ha ha. Give me five.”

  After a three-count, he said, “It reminds me of a weevil. Not exactly, but sort of.” He blinked and his eyes returned to normal. “We don’t know what happened with your dad. Maybe he and his killer were fighting, and the bug got in the way. And when your dad died, it died too and this is the psychic imprint.”

  “It’s cold for bugs to still be out. Can they even leave psychic marks? That seems like higher-life-level stuff.”

  “Don’t knock the bugs,” he said. “If every bug drops dead today, then the whole world’s dead in a matter of weeks. That’s high-life level to me.”

  “I guess, but it’s too cold for beetles,” I said. “And it’s a supernatural mark. Especially considering the location. A bug imprint, tattooed on his third eye.”

  “A destructive bug,” said Serge. “Weevils destroy crops. They took out the wheat stores on the Henderson farm a couple years back.” He scanned Dad’s forehead. “What do you think it means?”

  “Maybe the soul-eater marked him.” Maybe he cursed my dad, too, with the mark. I shoved the thought down and away. Dad needed me to save him and solve his murder. Getting emotional and freaking out wasn’t going to do any good for anyone. “Did you see anything else?”

  He shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t much help.”

  “You were. We know whoever killed Dad had supernatural abilities.” I gestured to his forehead.

  He smiled bleakly. “Now all we have to do is find a guy with a thing for bugs.”

  That tweaked me. “Didn’t Principal Larry have some kind of insect degree?”

  “Yeah, but if he’s supernatural, then I’m alive.”

  Fair enough. I went to the door and called back Nancy.

  “Did you get anything?” she asked. She took my hand.

  “Nothing,” I said. “But Serge is here—”

  Her cell binged. She glanced at it. Read. “I’m sorry for you, too. He was a good guy to all of us.”

  I gave us a moment, and gave Nancy an extra one for not coming apart when she talked. “Serge found a supernatural mark on Dad’s forehead.”

  “The guy who did this has abilities.” A shadow flickered across her face.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t lie to me,” I said.

  She hesitated, then, “We don’t know why your dad was targeted. The other officers think it’s random, Hank being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But, kid, what if it was something else?” Her fingers hovered over Dad’s forehead. “What if it was a supernatural killing?”

  “Hitmen from the other side?”

  “No, someone who’s like you, but not like you,” she said. “There are all kinds of people flocking to Dead Falls because of the video. The media’s here, ghost hunters. What if the guy who took out Hank has abilities and recognizes the two of you are the same? But what if that person is possessive about their power? What if they were jealous, and came for you, but found your dad, instead?”

  I didn’t even want to think of Dad being the conciliation prize for a psycho. “Why? It’s not like the other side is some ivy-league college and only a few of us get the choice spots. There shouldn’t be a need to compete.”

  “In this day and age, we shouldn’t have people running around murdering each other at all,” she said. “But here we are. I’m not saying that’s the case,” she continued when I remained silent. “But we can’t discount anything. Not until we have more information.”

  I agreed, but her theory added another person to the line-up of people who hurt my dad because of me.

  “Frank’s here.” Hinton came into the room, the deputy on his heels.

  “If I can see the mark,” said Serge. “Maybe there’s a psychic trail, like a vapour or something I can follow. I’m going to head out.” He frowned. “I wish Craig was back. Mags, call me if you need anything.”

  His words binged on Nancy’s phone.

  “I don’t like you playing Scooby Doo,” I said.

  “Sorry?” Hinton asked.

  “Nice to see you,” said Nancy, pointing at Frank. “She was saying nice to see you.”

  Hinton nodded as Frank said, “It’s nice to see you too, Maggie. I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances.” His gaze went from me, and his pity was a palpable thing that stretched and suffocated. “Nancy, I’m sorry for your loss.”

  She nodded.

  “I’ve got some paperwork.” Hinton drifted away.

  “What’s the point of us being a team if we can’t divide the work?” Serge asked me. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

  “You holding up okay?” Frank asked the question, but I wasn’t sure who he was asking, me or Nancy.

  “We’ve all got our roles to play.” Nancy looked up from her cell to me. “And we all need the place to play it.”

  Serge smiled and stepped back.

  Don’t move.

  “Come on,” said Serge. “Didn’t you hear her? Nancy’s okay with it.”

  “I didn’t realize you were here until Hinton told me,” said Frank. “I should leave you alone. I only wanted to pass on my condolences.”

  Just b
ecause she said—

  “Hang back for a bit,” she said, and we knew she meant Serge.

  “The trail could be getting cold,” he said.

  It’s too dangerous for you to be out there, alone.

  “I don’t imagine you have any updates, but what have you found out, so far?” asked Nancy.

  “Ah.” Frank took off his hat and scratched his grey chin stubble with the back of his hand.

  “Spit it out,” she said. “Maggie and I have people to meet up with and things to sort out.”

  “I understand where you’re coming from, Nancy, but this thing with Hank…” He trailed off and waited for her to finish his sentence.

  She stared at him.

  “You know how it is with family…”

  If she stared any harder, she was going to split him in two.

  “Damn it, Nancy! You know I can’t give you any information. You’re the grieving widow!”

  “Tell me what I want to know,” she said. Her voice was quiet, the kind of quiet that made the hair on my arms stand up.

  Frank stepped back. “I only came to get an update from Hinton. To see if he had anything to say about Hank.”

  “He has nothing to say,” she said. “But I’m listening. Talk.”

  “You know procedure. I can’t—”

  “Who’s going to tell on me?” She stepped towards him. “You?”

  “I don’t want any trouble—”

  “Then talk, Frank.”

  He dipped his head. “We don’t know much. There was a set of tire tracks, good tread, probably a sedan. The guys are running it down.”

  “It was snowing,” she said. “What about footprints?”

  “The perp used a shovel or something to blur the prints.” Frank glanced at me, then went back to talking to the floor. “Hank saw the attack coming.” He went to the table on which my dad lay, pulling back the sheet as though he was doing something holy. “His hands. Your dad put up one hell of a fight.”

  The world blurred. When it cleared, I moved with Serge to the table and examined Dad’s hands. Bruised skin, red cuts, swollen fingers.

  “Hank hit the guy hard enough to break or fracture bones,” Serge said, gesturing to the wounds.

  Nancy read the text.

  Can you be sure of that?

  “The reverend liked to hit,” said Serge. “I learned to hit back.”

  “If it wasn’t for the guy having a gun,” explained Frank. “Hank would’ve won the fight. I’m sure of it.”

  “Years of military training can’t be forgotten,” murmured Nancy, tucking the phone in her pocket. “But did he fight a stranger who ambushed him, or a friend who betrayed him?” She trailed her fingers along my dad’s knuckles, then turned to Frank. “No one’s walking around sporting injuries?”

  He shook his head. “No visits to the emergency.”

  “Principal Larry has a gun,” I said.

  “He was the first guy I went to,” said Frank. “But his skin’s unblemished.”

  “Maybe he hired someone else to do it,” I said.

  Frank shuffled. “We’re considering everything, I promise.”

  Maybe it wasn’t anyone local. Maybe it was the soul-eater, and he was injured, Serge spoke in my mind, but he used ghost energy to heal himself.

  So even if Dad put up a fight, nothing’s showing.

  The town’s overrun with people ghost-hunting and reporting on ghost-hunting. It could be anybody.

  Do you think the healing might leave a psychic mark?

  Maybe.

  Then we should take a walk around town. I stepped back, keeping an ear out as Nancy and Frank discussed the bullet.

  “Straight to the heart, but he shot Hank from behind, the coward—”

  “We’ll know the calibre of the bullet once the medical examiner gets here—”

  The sudden vision of Dad’s chest cracked open, his skin pulled back, made me nauseous. I moved to the door and left Nancy to the details. On the other side, I found Nell and her dad.

  She grabbed me and held on tight.

  I forced a smile I didn’t feel and directed it to her dad. “What’s up, Doc?”

  The smile he gave me looked like he’d dead-lifted it, and it dropped off his face as soon as it appeared. “God, I’m sorry, Maggie.” He wrapped his arms around Nell and me.

  We stood for a moment, me loving that they’d shown up without asking. Me, envying Nell because at the end of all this, she’d go home with her dad. I’d never be able to do that again.

  “Can I go see him?” she asked after we broke the hug.

  I nodded. “He’d like that. Nancy and Frank are still in there.”

  “I’ll be respectful—”

  “You never have been before,” I said. “Why start now?”

  She gave me a weak smile and left.

  “Your dad was one of the best men I knew,” said Doc.

  There seemed to be more he wanted to say, so I stayed quiet.

  “I don’t know how to say this—”

  Uh-oh. “Just say what you have to say.”

  “Hank had a heart of gold, but let’s face it, owning a funeral home in a small town doesn’t exactly set you up for life.” Doc put his hand on my shoulder. “You’re family—” He glanced up as Nancy came out. “—If we can help with the funeral, or anything else…”

  “Thanks, Daniel,” Nancy said. “That’s generous.”

  “I’m sure the military will step in, too,” he said.

  “Did everyone in the world know Dad had been in the service, except me?”

  “Other than Nancy, I’m the only one he told.” He made eye contact with me. “We had a special bond—each of us having strong, dynamic daughters will do that—and I trusted him to look after Nell when she was in your care. He never let me down; he was a second dad to her. I can never take Hank’s place in your heart or your life, Maggie, but if you ever need fatherly advice—”

  I hugged him tight and tried not to bawl. “Thanks, Doc.” I forced a smile, then went to tell Nell goodbye.

  “You’re the luckiest person I know,” she said when she saw me.

  “We really need to work on your vocabulary.”

  “You are.” She held up her phone. “I was talking to Casper. He thinks the soul-eater thing has your dad—”

  “And is probably torturing him,” I said.

  “Don’t think about that. Focus on this. It’s not about if you find the soul-eater and bring the reckoning, it’s when you find him. Your dad’s freedom is just a matter of time.”

  “And this makes me lucky because…?”

  “Because once he’s free, he’s by your side until you die,” she said. “You will never have to say goodbye to anyone you love.”

  “It’s a nice thought, but that’s not a hundred percent certain. Dad might cross over.”

  “Your dad would never leave you,” she said.

  “He died without telling me.” My voice cracked. “He died without saying goodbye. My powers are growing. He should’ve been able to reach me. At the very least, I should’ve been able to sense the danger.”

  “Don’t be a princess,” said Nell. “He died and that piece-of-crap soul-eater probably sucked him in before he could do anything. And you didn’t sense anything because you’re powerful, but you’re not the most powerful.”

  I blinked back the tears and nodded. Solve the mystery now. Lose my mind later. “Serge saw—” I looked around the room, then peered through the door at the adults in the other room.

  “Wow, must be pretty good intel if you’re checking for eavesdroppers,” she said.

  “It’s not that. Serge is gone.” I caught her up on the supernatural tattoo and Serge wanting to play the dead world’s version of private detective.

  �
�That idiot! He went off alone? And you let him?”

  “I didn’t let him,” I said. “He snuck out.”

  “I’m going to get the two of you babysitters,” she said. “You obviously can’t be left unsupervised. Come on, let’s go get him.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Using the psychic link was the fastest way to call Serge to me, but standing still was driving me crazy. At least driving around the town searching for him felt like I was doing something. “Let’s find him the old-fashioned, mortal way,” I said.

  One step out of the morgue doors and I regretted my decision. Flashbulbs flashed in my face. Questions assaulted my ears.

  “Who killed your father?”

  “Did he send you a last message?”

  “Did your father tell you he loved you?”

  “Is a spirit behind the death of your father?”

  “Tell the truth.”

  The last voice was Carl Reid’s.

  “Tell the world what you can really do,” he said.

  I blinked but white spots stayed and kept him hidden in the dark crowd. People surrounded Nell and me, and I didn’t recognize any of them. In the background, more figures, but they were too far away for me to know if they were familiar.

  “I just—can I get—?” No one was letting me pass. They crowded closer.

  “I got this,” said Nell. “Get behind me.” She pushed in front of me, grabbed my hand, and barreled forward.

  The crush of people pushed in. I yelped as someone grabbed my arm and a shock of electricity ran through me.

  “What was with you yelling?” Nell asked after she’d shoved me into the passenger side of the car, then climbed in the driver’s seat.

  “I don’t know.” I took off my coat and checked my arm. “I think one of them might have tried to taser me.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  I shook my head. “I felt it. Electricity.”

  “That’s not a taser,” she said. “Those things make you pee your pants.”

  “Yeah, well that run-in almost made me pee my pants. I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry? Why?” She laid on the horn to make the reporters move. None did.

  “I’m supposed to be protecting you—ow! Would you stop hitting me?”