No Crones About It

by Amanda M. Lee

  I’d completely forgotten about that. “Oh, well ... .”

  Gunner abandoned what he was doing and strode in my direction, not stopping until he was behind the table with me ... and directly in Mike’s line of sight. “Are you saying that Scout was close to this previous death, too?”

  If Mike was surprised by Gunner’s sudden appearance, he didn’t show it. Instead, his eyes momentarily narrowed and he seemed to be having a silent conversation with himself. After a few seconds, he discarded the conversation and came to terms with ... well ... something. “Hello again, Mr. Stratton. That’s your name, right?”

  “Gunner.”

  “Gunner.” Mike made a face, as if the name was hard for him to speak. “It’s nice to see you again. You’re all over the place there.”

  “Wherever you find Scout, you’ll find me.” The words could’ve been a warning under different circumstances, but Gunner had other things on his mind. “Tell me about the body.”

  “It was a woman,” Mike replied, all business. “She was a prostitute Scout had words with earlier in the evening.”

  Oh, geez. Things were starting to become clearer. “I vaguely remember that,” I said. “I ... Ruby. That’s what she called herself. She picked a fight with me because she claimed I interrupted a transaction and caused the guy to flee without paying.”

  “That would be her,” Mike agreed. “She was known to have mental health problems and fought with a few people that week. Still, we wanted to make sure you weren’t considered a suspect because you obviously had nothing to do with her death.”

  I agreed that I had nothing to do with her death. My stomach twisted all the same. “You don’t think ... there wasn’t a message to me written on her body, was there?”

  Gunner’s hand immediately went to my shoulder so he could give me a light rub. It was as if he recognized that I was struggling and wanted to offer what little comfort he could.

  “There was a message on her body,” Mike confirmed. “It wasn’t to you. It read ‘Look to the stars, child.’ We couldn’t figure out what the message meant.”

  I jolted at the words. “Are you sure that it was a message about the stars? And are you sure the word ‘child’ was specifically used?”

  He nodded without hesitation. “Yeah. I can send you crime photos if you like.”

  My mouth was dry, but I nodded. “I think I need to see them.”

  Gunner slid me a sidelong look, but he didn’t offer up a question. This was my show and he appeared perfectly happy to be the sidekick.

  It took Mike three minutes to send me the appropriate files, and when I pulled them up I felt sick to my stomach. Somehow, even though it had been only a few years, I’d forgotten what Ruby looked like. Now, seeing her face, I wondered how I could’ve ever forgotten.

  She was the ragged sort, as if life had run her down. She was in her fifties at the time and still turning tricks, so it wasn’t hard to determine that life had never been kind to her. She picked fights with me regularly. It was as if she wanted to see how far she could push me. Most of the time I ignored her. The day of her death, though, I was in a particularly foul mood and shouted something back at her. There were witnesses, and I got a few laughs.

  Then she died and it wasn’t so funny. Somehow, I’d managed to push it out of my head.

  “Those crime scenes look largely the same,” Gunner noted as he stared at the photos. “I mean ... she was strung up the same way Fred was. I don’t think that can be a coincidence.”

  “I don’t either,” Mike offered. “Once I heard about your death up there, I ran the two files against one another. There are a lot of similarities.”

  I wasn’t really surprised. That didn’t mean I wasn’t jarred. “I guess that means we’re looking for the same person.”

  “If you are, you’re looking for someone who has dropped at least another five bodies.”

  “What?” I shifted on my chair. “How is that possible? I think I would’ve heard about that.”

  “The deaths were spread out over Michigan. We’re talking Davisburg, Clarkston, Monroe, Sterling Heights and the city itself.”

  My breath clogged in my throat. “What years?”

  Instead of immediately answering, Mike fixed me with a pitying look. He was smart, brilliant really, and it was obvious he’d already figured out what had me worried. “I already checked the bodies against your records,” he said softly. “You were in a foster home in each city at the time the bodies were discovered.”

  I bent over as a clanging sound began pounding between my ears.

  “Put your head between your knees,” Gunner ordered, taking over the situation. It was clear he understood the ramifications of Mike’s words without anyone having to explain anything to him. He was stalwart and calm, although I could practically feel the anxiety rolling off him despite his best efforts to hide his fear.

  “I’m sorry.” Mike looked pained. “I really am. I didn’t know if I should tell you, but I figured it might be important.”

  “It’s definitely important,” Gunner agreed, his hand heavy on the back of my neck as he rubbed. “What about the messages written on the bodies? What about the victims?”

  “I can send all the information. None of the murders have ever been solved, and most of the messages were generic. ‘The stars shine bright’ was one of them. ‘Child of the stars’ was another. Um ... I can’t quite remember the others.”

  “I’ll read them in the files.” Gunner sat in the chair next to me, his hand never moving from my neck. “No one ever realized Scout was the one who tied this all together.”

  Mike shook his head. “No, and it’s probably good for all concerned that it never happened. She might’ve gone to jail even though the first body dropped when she was eight. There’s no way she was the culprit, but ... .”

  “With this many bodies the cops might’ve tried to make the facts fit her no matter what,” Gunner surmised. “I get what you’re saying. I just ... there were never any suspects?”

  “No. She was a foster kid. She wouldn’t have been on anybody’s radar. The only reason I knew to look was because I had information about two bodies being dropped near her. Plus, well, the most recent one had her name burned into him.”

  “That was brazen,” Gunner agreed. “Clearly someone wants to send a message.”

  I stirred. “What message? I don’t understand how this could be happening.”

  He looked caught as he held my gaze. “I don’t have any proof, but ... I mean, it makes sense to me.”

  I waited for him to continue, my stomach threatening revolt.

  “I’m guessing the people who were killed were guardians of sorts,” he started. He looked as if he would rather be anywhere other than trapped in this conversation. I couldn’t blame him. “I think they were watching you.”

  “Watching me? Like, ... spying on me?”

  “Or protecting you. Maybe they were with the people who took care of you when you were a kid, the people you’ve been dreaming about. Maybe they realized they couldn’t keep you safe no matter how hard they tried so they relinquished you to the system ... but never really left your life. Maybe they protected you from afar until you were old enough to understand what was going on.”

  That was preposterous ... mostly. “No way. I’ve been an adult for a long time. If they were watching me as a form of protection, they would’ve approached sooner to tell me what was going on.”

  “We don’t know that,” he argued. “Something might’ve happened to change their plans.”

  “Fred was here fifteen years before I arrived.”

  “That doesn’t mean he didn’t know you were coming.”

  I felt light-headed and rested my head on my knees. “This is too much.”

  “I know.” He brushed his hand over my head. “It’s too much and yet it explains a lot. I need everything you have in those files, Mike. We need to start putting all this information together if we’re going to figure this out.�
�

  Mike didn’t put up a lick of argument. “I’ll have everything to you within the hour. I ... .” He stilled and then regrouped. “Take care of her, all right? I’m genuinely fond of her.”

  Gunner nodded without missing a beat, or bristling in the slightest. “That’s the plan. I’m fond of her, too.”

  “She has a way about her.”

  “She definitely does.”

  “I’m sitting right here,” I groused. “I can hear everything you’re saying.”

  “There’s that way,” Gunner teased before sobering. “We’ll figure this out. I promise you that. Don’t let it beat you down. I know it’s a lot, but ... we’ll find the answers you need..”

  That was the one thing I had going for me.

  Twenty

  We sat in the small park next to the police station to go through the case notes. I had no idea why Gunner picked the spot, but I was thankful for the fresh air and sunshine.

  “Are you feeling better?” His eyes were speculative as they washed over my features. “It’s okay if you’re not. This is ... a lot.”

  It was more than a lot. It was a mountain that I had no idea how to climb. “I’m fine.” It was my go-to response. I always whipped it out, whether I was truly fine or not.

  “You’re not fine.” He was calm, his voice even. However, I didn’t miss the hint of annoyance lurking in the depths of his eyes. “You’re pretty far from fine. I wish you would just accept that it’s okay for you to struggle occasionally. The only person who expects you to be superhuman is you.”

  “That makes me sound self-important.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m too egotistical to notice.”

  That made me laugh, which dislodged some of the distress taking up residence in my chest. “I guess we’re quite the pair.”

  “Yeah, we are.” He squeezed my hand. “But we need to go over this.”

  We broke the cases down into separate files and laid out the information. Besides Ruby, there was Bridget Tapper, a seamstress from Davisburg who was supposedly out on a walk. She had no known enemies and lived alone. There was also Frank Davis, a gas station owner in Sterling Heights. His background information was almost non-existent. Other than being a business owner, there was almost nothing on him. It was the same with the others, two men and a woman. The only thing they had in common was the way they’d died.

  “I don’t know what to make of any of this,” Gunner admitted when we were finished, rubbing his hand over his jaw as he exhaled heavily. “None of these people existed anywhere but on paper ... and even then it was a tenuous existence at best.”

  That was an interesting way of looking at it. “Fake identities?”

  He shrugged. “Or people who knew how to remain off the radar. It seems unlikely that all these identities would have to be faked. Even if they were watching you ... .”

  “Why would they be watching me?”

  “You know why. You’re more powerful than a normal witch. There’s something else inside you. I’m guessing you’re part elemental, although which one is beyond me.”

  “Marissa thinks I cast love spells. That’s a cupid, right?” I knew a little about elementals. I knew they’d all sprung from the same origins and then split hundreds of years before because the factions started fighting. The earth elementals became witches, the air elementals turned into cupids, the water elementals shifted to sirens and merfolk, and the fire elementals to demons. That information was tackled early in my Spells Angels training. Other than that, I didn’t have much information.

  “You don’t cast love spells. She’s just jealous and lashes out.” His expression was thoughtful. “Some think witches became the weakest link when the elementals split. I don’t agree with that. I think witches opted to broaden their horizons.

  “Everyone knows that elemental magic is some of the strongest out there,” he continued. “It’s possible that you’re from a group of witches who never abandoned the elemental magic. That could be why you’re so strong.”

  “There are plenty of witches who still use elemental magic,” I argued. “I’ve seen them, fought a few and joined forces with others. I don’t think it’s that witches gave up using elemental magic as much as they zeroed in on one skill and embraced it. Like controlling the weather or casting hexes.”

  “You think they became specialists,” he mused. “That’s an interesting idea. It would seem to fit. Maybe your coven continued using all the magic at their disposal. Maybe they never forgot the old ways. In that dream you told me about, you were expected to supply the power, right? That seems to indicate that you were even more powerful than those you were living with.”

  Huh. I’d forgotten that part of the dream. “Yeah. I was the one supplying the power. That could be because she was tired. I don’t remember much about the dream, but I do remember that. She was exhausted.”

  “From keeping you safe?”

  That was the question.

  We went back to poring over the files. Even though I didn’t recognize any of the faces in the photos — as a child, I was much more interested in self-preservation than worrying about near strangers — it was fascinating to read about people who had lived — and ultimately died — on the periphery of my life. I was so caught up in what I was reading I didn’t notice that we were no longer alone until Graham cleared his throat from behind me, almost causing me to jump out of my skin.

  “I’m sorry,” he offered, resting his hand on my shoulder. His eyes were kind as they locked with mine. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “I’m not afraid,” I immediately barked.

  “She’s fine,” Gunner said dryly. “She’ll spout that mantra until the day she dies. She could be missing an arm and she would still say it.”

  He was beginning to bug me. “I say it because it’s true.”

  “Whatever.” Gunner shifted his attention to his father. “Do you have anything?”

  The question caught me off guard. “Were we expecting him to have something?”

  Gunner ignored me and waited for his father to answer.

  “I have a few somethings,” Graham replied, sliding into the chair next to me and lifting an eyebrow when he saw the crime scene photos we were studying. “What’s all this?”

  “Oh, um ... .” I hesitated. I didn’t want to tell him the truth in case he decided to change his mind about me being complicit in Fred’s death and lock me up.

  Gunner took the situation out of my hands. “We have some information.” He laid all of it out for his father, refusing to meet my accusatory gaze. Instead, he slid his hand under the table and squeezed my knee, offering unspoken reassurance as I fumed. When he was finished, instead of being angry or apoplectic, Graham was intrigued.

  “Well, that explains a lot,” he mused. “Do you want to know what I think?”

  “Only if it means you’re not going to lock me up,” I answered.

  He smirked. “Honey, I’m not going to lock you up. I never thought you were guilty. The prosecutor was the one who insisted on getting the blood sample. And, for the record, he doesn’t need to know about any of this. It doesn’t involve him.”

  That was a relief. “Then I want to know what you think.”

  “I think it was a cult.”

  “A cult? Like the Jim Jones people who drank the Kool-Aid?”

  He snorted. “Not exactly, but kind of. I think these people were true believers. I think they gathered together for a common cause and some of them were willing to die for it. Maybe everyone was willing to die for it and there are more bodies out there we’re not aware of.”

  I didn’t like that notion one little bit. “I would rather focus on the dead people we already have rather than add more. What common cause could they all have joined together over?”

  He arched an eyebrow and turned to me. “Do you really not see it?”

  I was at a loss.

  “She doesn’t,” Gunner volunteered. “She can’t see it because i
t’s all snowballing and is too much. I’ve tried broaching the subject with her, but she hasn’t embraced the idea just yet.”

  His words frustrated me to no end. “What subject? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Graham held up a hand when Gunner opened his mouth to respond. It was one of the few times Gunner acquiesced to his father’s demands without putting up a fight.

  “You’re the cause,” Graham said quietly. “You’re the thing they were willing to die to protect.”

  My heart rate picked up a notch. “No. That can’t be right. Why would they die for me?”

  “You’re either their family — which we’ve determined is the case with Fred — or you’re tied to their group through more than blood. I don’t think that’s up for debate, but I would love to see if there’s any blood evidence left in these other cases so we could test the DNA against Scout’s.”

  My heart stuttered at the prospect. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I ... no.”

  “Okay.” Graham patted my hand. “When you’re ready, we still might be able to conduct the tests down the road.”

  What if I was never ready? “I ... just ... .”

  “Don’t dwell on that,” Gunner instructed. “It’s not important right now. What is important is figuring out how Cyrus’s group plays into this. Scout remembers running from shifters when she was a kid. The woman she was with warned her that not all shifters were bad but the ones they were running from wanted something specific. I’m pretty sure that was Scout.”

  “And you’re sure the dream was a memory?” Graham asked. “Isn’t it possible that her subconscious filled in certain blanks and perhaps not everything she saw in that dream was real?”

  “Anything is possible,” Gunner replied. “I believe that was a memory, especially because Scout saw the same woman in the spirit realm when she tried to talk to Fred.”

  Graham’s eyebrows flew up his forehead. “I think I’m missing part of the story. Maybe you should fill me in.”

  Gunner let loose a drawn-out sigh, but acquiesced. When he was finished, Graham was contemplative.