I couldn’t understand what he saw in me. But that’s Dan Saling ... the best person I know. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”
“You showed up.” He grinned.
I laughed because it was that or cry. I hate to cry. So I sat there, looking into Dan’s eyes, wishing with all my heart that I could hold and kiss him right then. Unfortunately I was still hours away from that privilege.
Oh well, I supposed I had to be grateful for what I could get. At least I had each and every day with him.
The moment passed and thoughts of the world beyond my little sphere asserted themselves. Others suffered much worse than me, and I wanted to do something about that. Seeing a certain someone tonight had given me an idea.
I told Dan, “I think I need a special kind of help when it comes to this missing shifters case.”
“Name it. I’m here for you.”
Wasn’t he always? I winked at him. “Thanks, but it’s another kind of help I need. Do you think Taylor will talk to me?”
Dan considered. “I can see the benefit of a clairvoyant in this matter, all right.”
Taylor’s brief nod had given me some hope of reconciliation, at least in getting her to use her abilities to help the para community. “Tristan’s learning to cope. Wendy was nice to me tonight. There is a general thawing towards my situation, I think. But Taylor and Patricia were in love, and I don’t know if I can get her cooperation.”
Dan said, “You could always get Tristan to relay your request, whatever it is.”
“True. It would be easier for her and me both.” I thought about it and shook my head. “Easier, but not necessarily better. I think she needs to face me. I think it’s important she take this step before she runs off to Atlanta.”
Dan agreed. “It would be healthier for her. The question is, is she ready?”
I shrugged. “The million dollar question. I suppose the worst that can happen is that she runs away like she always does.”
The thought of that made me sad all over again. I hated being a pariah, especially with someone I genuinely liked. It hurt every time Taylor fled my presence.
Dan was optimistic. “Taylor is hurting, but she’s also a team player. Her allegiance to Tristan is unquestionable. I think you should at least try. If it doesn’t go well, here is my shoulder.”
I pulled a face. “You know I hate to cry.”
He winked at me. “You know I still love you even when you do.”
I had to build up my courage. “Let me bolt down a Blood Potion so my nerves will be steady. Then I’ll see if I can charm my way into Taylor’s to-do list.”
Dan had a better idea. “Maybe you’ll do better if you didn’t go to her in Patricia’s body.”
I gave him a thumbs up for being so smart and checked the clock. Five-thirty in the morning. Even an early riser wouldn’t appreciate the phone ringing at this hour, but I had to make my call before sunrise. “I hope Isabella won’t mind answering the phone in thirty minutes.”
I sent a message to Taylor via Gerald. She agreed to talk to me via Isabella. My call to the channel wasn’t too early, as it turned out. Isabella was still keeping her grandchildren during their parents’ vacation, and that meant getting up early to prepare two out of three for school. She was making breakfast for the kids when I phoned.
“Taylor’s got the whole morning free? Let’s do it at eight o’clock then,” Isabella’s lightly accented voice said over the phone. Her blend of Hispanic and southern accents had a musical quality that I loved.
Eight a.m. found me settled in Isabella’s plump body with its loose blouse and skirt. I sat on her favorite armchair, a comfortable relic that had been new in the 1950s. Another older but immaculate armchair sat nearby with a table separating the two. A leather sofa stretched on the other side of the den. Yellow walls made the room bright and cheerful, as did the huge collection of family portraits that filled them. The decor screamed ‘Grandma’s House’, with the exception of the large-screen TV taking up one wall. Delfino, the man of the house, had gotten his way when it came to how he would watch his sports ... but probably only because the benevolent captain of the ship Isabella had granted his wish.
Just as when I inhabited Patricia, when I channeled through Isabella I saw both the ghost and living worlds. Isabella’s cookie cutter house in a typical subdivision only existed in one plane, which afforded me the relief of viewing only one scene.
Unlike when I was caught in Patricia’s body, Isabella was warm to be in. My sweetheart of a channel, knowing how much I liked to experience certain things when I got the chance, had bought me a mocha cappuccino and fresh coffee cake to enjoy. I was careful to not make too many yummy sounds as I had my indulgence.
When the knock on the door came at two minutes past eight, I checked Isabella’s youngest grandchild. The adorable little baby slept in the playpen that had held many a child and grandchild over the years. Then I answered the door.
Taylor stood on the other side, as trim and neat as ever with her sensibly short haircut, polo shirt, khakis, and loafers. She was low maintenance and still looked great. I envied her that ease.
“Hi, Taylor.” My voice came out hesitant. I had a lot of worries as to how this meeting would go.
Her smile was a bit world-weary, but it was still a smile. “Hello, Brandilynn.”
I ushered her in. “Isabella got you a chai tea and bran muffin. I think it’s all still warm, but she said you know where the microwave is if you need it.”
“That’s our Isabella. Always taking care of everyone.” Taylor peeked in the playpen to ‘ah’ over the baby sucking her thumb as she drowsed. She straightened and went to the couch to test her tea. “Mmm, good.”
“Want some coffee cake? Let this evil spirit tempt you from your healthy ways,” I teased in a spectral tone.
Taylor actually chuckled. “One bite, you fiend. Just one,” she insisted as I used the plastic knife that came with the treat to hack off a sizable portion. It was a big slab of cake.
After a few moments of us tasting and rolling our eyes over our treat I ventured to ask, “How are you holding up?”
Taylor took a sip of tea. “Pretty well, considering. Tristan keeps me busy. His schedule is a good distraction.”
I took the bull by the horns. “I’ve heard you’ve been doing a good job for him since we lost Patricia.”
“Yeah. Well.”
That’s all she could get out. Tears welled in her hazel eyes. Knowing Taylor was as averse to crying in front of people as me, I looked down at the coffee cup I held. I gave her a moment to reclaim control. I did not want to make her cry, though I knew it was probably inevitable.
I leapt into the awkward silence after about a minute. “There’s no sense in not discussing the elephant in the room. I know I’m not your favorite person because of what happened. I know it kills you each time you see me using her body. I’m sorry.”
“Brandilynn, I don’t blame you for what happened. Truly I don’t.” She sounded in command of herself again, so I dared to look up. Taylor wasn’t looking at me. She stared at the big portrait of Isabella and Delfino taken the day of their wedding so many years ago, the happy couple at the start of their long journey together.
Taylor took a deep breath. “It’s hard the way things turned out. Patricia is gone, but I still have to see her because you got trapped in her body. It’s not your fault, but I have to look at the woman I loved knowing it’s not her anymore.”
I swallowed the lump of sympathy that rose in my throat. “I can’t imagine how difficult this has been for you.”
“There’s no closure. No way to say goodbye and move on.”
“Except to go to Atlanta with Tristan.”
She turned her gaze to me. I saw compassion and revulsion mixed up in her expression. “In all honesty, I can’t wait to get out of here and away from you. That sounds awful. I don’t hate you, Brandilynn. In fact, I feel sorry for you. You lost Tristan over this. You’re stuck in a d
ifficult existence you didn’t choose.”
It was my turn to sigh. “Yeah. It’s a big ol’ suckfest all the way around.”
Taylor managed a weak laugh at my choice of words. “We should have cleared the air weeks ago. I appreciate you channeling through Isabella to talk to me instead of coming to me the other way.”
“It was Dan’s suggestion. I have to give credit where it’s due.”
“He’s a smart man. A good man.”
I nodded, thinking of Dan. I was sure I wore a ridiculously sappy expression at that moment. “Yes, he is.”
With that out of the way, I switched gears. “Taylor, I had another reason for talking to you. You know all about this missing shifter issue, right?”
She looked relieved to move on to business. “I’ve been keeping up on it through Tristan and Gerald. Do you think I can help?”
I quashed the cheer that wanted to escape. I’d been afraid I’d have to talk her into it. “I hope so. We’ve identified a bear shifter who might be the next to vanish. I need to know where he’s going before that happens.”
We were firmly in the realm of her expertise. I could tell she looked forward to doing what she was good at. “Outstanding. I love it when I get to track the living. It beats looking for a dead body any day. Can you get something of the werebear’s? A small object will do, but it should be something he uses regularly.”
“I think I can manage that, maybe as early as tonight. Thanks for jumping on board.”
“Sure.”
With that done, we settled into silence again. I think Taylor searched as hard as I did for something to say. Other than catching her up on everything to do with the case, there was nothing left.
We’d managed to get through the big talk. Compassion existed on both sides ... but the mourning and guilt were far bigger. I think we both realized we could never be friends again. Too much hurt stood in the way of fixing things.
Taylor left as soon as she finished her muffin and tea. I checked the clock and saw I didn’t have much time before Isabella’s spirit would unconsciously shove mine out of her body.
As was usual for us, I scribbled a note on the pad my hostess had left on the table by the chair. I’d no sooner finished writing when the telltale push came. It propelled me out of the corporeal and back into the spirit realm.
Isabella blinked a few times and shook her head. She peered around like someone coming out of a deep sleep, getting her bearings. It was always like this ... except I preferred to clean up after myself when I came to her home.
“Sorry about the mess,” I apologized as Isabella took in the empty coffee cup and paper plate the cake had been on. She couldn’t hear me and I felt bad about being a poor guest.
“Not even a crumb left for me?” Isabella said in a fake hurt tone. She winked at empty air a good five feet to the right where I stood. “I’m teasing you, Brandilynn. I’m glad you enjoyed your treat. Now what have you got for me?”
She picked up the notepad and read what I’d written. “You and your phone calls. You need a secretary, sweetheart. I’ll mention it to Tristan.”
Isabella got paid to channel, not organize my afterlife. She might have been kidding, but she did deserve a salary for making things happen on my behalf. I decided to see to it that either I did get a secretary or she would be paid extra.
She was already on the phone and dialing the number I’d provided. “Hello, Ashley Warner, please? Oh, hello Mrs. Warner. My name is Isabella Rodriguez. I’m calling on behalf of Patricia Keith. I hope you’re doing well today?”
There was a pause as my sister replied, during which I admired Isabella’s professionalism. I always did. If Isabella had time, I’d put her at the top of my list for possible assistants.
Isabella’s conversation continued. “I’m fine, thank you. Ms. Keith has what may seem an odd request, but I assure you it is important to the matter she’s working on. Would you be able to provide her with a small item belonging to your husband – something he might use on a regular basis?” She waited through what seemed an abnormally long answer to such an easy question. “Yes ma’am.” Another pause. “Well, we have psychics on staff that use such objects to get answers we can’t get otherwise.” Short wait this time. “Yes, it is a helpful trick. Would you be able to provide such an item?”
I had the urge to ‘port back and forth so I could get both sides of the conversation. This one-sided stuff made me impatient.
Isabella’s voice warmed. “Wonderful, Mrs. Warner. If you could drop that off at our offices in the King George Hotel at your earliest convenience, we would be grateful. You can leave it with Taylor Allen or Lana Minchew during the daylight hours.” Pause, during which Isabella’s brows rose high into her forehead. “Yes, Gerald would be glad to take care of it as well if neither of them is available. Thank you so much, Mrs. Warner. Have a wonderful day.”
Isabella hung up. “Mrs. Warner has agreed to your request, in case you haven’t figured it out, Brandilynn.” She rubbed her temples. “Ooh, girl. If you knew how hard it is to keep my thoughts straight after channeling, you’d praise me to the heavens.”
I smiled at her, wishing I could tell her thanks in person. “I do that anyway, Isabella. You’re the best.”
Isabella stretched and stood. “I need coffee.”
“Careful. After my cappuccino, you’re going to be jittery,” I warned uselessly.
Isabella headed towards the kitchen. I thought about going to Para Central to let Lana know my sister might be coming in with a tracking item for Taylor. That was when Dan popped into the room.
His expression held a mixture of excitement and dread as he hurried over to me and grabbed my hand. “Hey, good, I caught you before you zapped somewhere else. We gotta go.”
With that look on his face, I didn’t snark at him for not saying hello first. “Why? What’s up?”
“One of the missing shifters has been found.”
I could tell the news was bad. “Dead.” It wasn’t a question.
“Very.”
“How icky does it look?” As a vampire, gore and blood made me hungry. As a ghost it made me feel ill. Fortunately I’d have to be physical to get physically sick. See? Being dead isn’t all bad.
Dan knew how I was. “It’s high on the gross factor. It’s obvious he suffered.”
I tightened my hand on his since he’d be doing the driving on this one. “Let’s get this done.”
Not wasting any time, we left Isabella’s quiet little suburban heaven for places not so pleasant.
Chapter 9
Half a beat of a living heart later, we arrived at our destination. I found myself at the edge of the woods that ran along Highway 17 on the north end of Ford County. Several county cruisers were parked along the side of the two-lane blacktop, their lights flashing. A few yards within the trees, cops moved around. Only one of them was a normal human: Sheriff Grayson. With a belly that always made me worry for his cholesterol level, particularly at his age, he was impossible to miss. As usual, he stood in the thick of things.
I liked Sheriff Grayson. He’s got a lot of the good ol’ boy vibe. Based on appearances alone, one would instantly assume him to be a redneck bigot who drank beer and groped women. He will throw a noncompliant suspect to the ground and make him wish he’d never been born.
However he also played Santa Claus for special needs kids and bought them gifts out of his own pocket every Christmas. He also treated his Para Division deputies with the same gruff respect he accorded the mundane officers. If he drank I’d never heard about it, and he was extremely respectful to women. Looks didn’t tell the true tale of the man.
Dan and I headed straight for Grayson. I saw no sign of the Para Patrol witches, so he wouldn’t know we were there spying on the crime scene. We would get firsthand knowledge of whatever had happened.
The body lay only a few steps away from the sheriff. A couple deputies were taping the area off for the crime scene unit to go over once they arrived.
It was still uncovered, so the discovery had to be pretty fresh. One glance and I looked away. The victim was bloated, so he’d been out here a few days. I could tell he wasn’t whole. I glimpsed some ragged tears on the swollen flesh. The feral hogs in the area had taken a few bites of the poor guy.
Thank goodness I didn’t need to breathe. From the way the officers held their hands over their noses, the guy was pretty ripe. How Grayson could stand there so stoic was beyond me. But then, Grayson had seen some messed up stuff. As small as Fulton Falls and Ford County are, we still had our share of murder, much of it the messy variety.
I steeled myself to take another look. It wasn’t morbid curiosity. I needed to try to identify the victim. I walked over and stared into the upturned face.
He’d been a hog shifter. The snout and small tusks were a giveaway. There had been five werehogs on the missing list. I inspected the shape of his wide staring eyes, the color of his hair, the jaw structure.
Dan had come over with me. I told him, “I’m not sure because of the shape he’s in, but this man may be one of Levi’s instructors. He looks vaguely familiar, similar to the picture Levi gave me.”
Behind me, Grayson spoke up. “Charlie, you said you smelled nitro coming from the body?”
A werehog deputy paused putting up the tape. “Pretty sure I did, Sheriff, though the decomp is kind of overwhelming the scent. I’d lay odds he was shot. Smells like some Russian import stuff. Or low-grade domestic.”
“Shot with nitro?” I asked Dan.
“He must be referring to nitrocellulose. It’s the propellant used in bullets.” Dan looked over the scene and shook his head, his face long with dismay. “Man. What an ugly way to die.”
I saw what he was talking about. The body lay at the end of a trail of dried dark brown blood, which wove a path deeper into the woods. He’d been hurt elsewhere and made his way only steps from the road. If I had to judge from the amount of blood in his wake, he must have suffered awfully.
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