by Raven Snow
Dom raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth, like he was ready to instinctively shoot down her idea. He seemed to think better of it, face relaxing, giving what she had just said a few seconds of silent contemplation before speaking. “You think your shadow man isn’t a shadow man.”
“Right,” said Lady. “I think maybe it’s a shadow woman.”
Chapter Eight
Dom did not help Lady with the floors. He sat down with Ms. Poole, comfy in the sitting room while Lady worked. She hadn’t expected him to help, but she resented him a little anytime she walked close enough to the sitting room to overhear his conversation. Not only was he sitting down while she toiled, Ms. Poole seemed interested in what he had to say. Must be nice. Lady couldn’t remember the last time she had sat down and had a chat with Ms. Poole without the woman lecturing her.
Lady did her best to power through her chores without thinking too many negative thoughts. Dom didn’t deserve them. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been anything but helpful today. Sure, he could have not given her a hard time. He’d teased her about the fiancé thing no less than three more times on the way home. That was pretty tame, all things considered. If she were in his shoes, she would have teased herself too.
It was difficult to say whether Dom had come along to try and be helpful or if he simply had nothing better to do. If Lady had to guess, she would say the truth was probably somewhere between the two. Maybe he felt a certain level of investment. His family was involved in all of this after all, even if he was estranged from them.
The floors sparkled. Well, they didn’t literally sparkle. They were old wood floors that gave you splinters if you walked on them barefoot. If they weren’t, they would probably be sparkling. Of course, Lady knew Ms. Poole would find a problem with them anyway. She was always going over her apprentice’s work with a critical eye. Lady fully expected her to go out and buy a white glove one of these days, maintain eye contact with her while she put it on and trail her finger along a clean counter to expose the dust she’d missed.
It would have to do for now. Lady wasn’t perfect. Besides, she had more important things to get to today. Ms. Poole shouldn’t have put her in charge of figuring out what was happening with Conners if she didn’t want her to get invested.
She put away the mop and poured out the bucket. She trudged into the sitting room and sank down into a rocking chair. “Done,” she announced.
“You didn’t mop in here,” Ms. Poole pointed out, ruining all the relief Lady was feeling at being finished with her work.
Lady stared at Ms. Poole. She sat very still in her chair, hoping she wouldn’t press the matter.
Ms. Poole gave a sigh and rolled her eyes. “Do it tonight,” she said.
“Can do,” Lady agreed immediately, letting the relief seep back into her bones as she slouched down in her chair. “So, what are you two chatting about?” she asked, even though she had a good idea already. She didn’t want to admit that she had been listening in at every available opportunity.
Ms. Poole turned in her rocking chair so that she was facing both Dom and Lady. “Dom here was telling me about what happened today and about this theory of yours.”
“Yeah? What do you think?” Lady wasn’t sure why she needed approval from Ms. Poole so badly. She just did.
“I think you may be on to something,” said Ms. Poole, words that made Lady’s heart swell. She tried to keep the smile off her face and was pretty sure she failed.
“Really?” That sounded like she was too surprised by the possibility of being right. She tried to play it off. “I mean, yeah. It’s the only thing that makes sense, right?”
“No,” said Ms. Poole, as blunt as ever. “No matter the mystery, there are infinite solutions that could make sense. This is certainly one possibility, though. I think you should investigate it further, but I would also caution you to keep an open mind. Be receptive of other possibilities. Don’t hedge all your bets on this.”
“What bets?” Lady wasn’t sure how to actually act on her theory of Beatrice being Conners’ shadow person. “I was kind of hoping you had some… ya know, guidance for me or something. Where do we go from here?”
“We?” repeated Dom.
“You’re here, aren’t you?” She rolled her eyes at him. “If you’re gonna tag along, you’re a part of this.”
“Fair enough.” Dom didn’t seem to have any further problems with being drafted onto the case.
“So, what do we do?” Lady asked again, looking back to Ms. Poole.
At least Ms. Poole wasn’t putting everything on Lady. After calling this a learning experience, Lady wouldn’t have been surprised if she had shot down her questions and told her to figure it out on her own. Ms. Poole frowned and looked into the middle distance thoughtfully. “Obviously, your first course of action should be to look into this Beatrice woman. See when she died. There’s always the chance that she passed after Conners’ problems started. If that’s the case, then your theory might not hold water.”
Lady didn’t like the sound of that possibility. “If it does, though? If I’m right?”
“If your theory is still sound after that… Well, seeking out the family would probably be in poor taste.”
“Ya think?” Lady had had mixed feelings about going to the A/C repair shop. She didn’t think she could bring herself to go ask Beatrice’s grieving family questions. She didn’t even know how many relatives the woman had locally. She certainly wasn’t going to hassle some kid. The legality there was questionable at best.
“You may have to talk to the family,” said Ms. Poole, her tone turning serious. “We have a moral obligation to do what’s best for everyone involved. If Beatrice’s soul is restless, we need to do something about that. All of this isn’t just for Conners’ sake after all. There are more people than just him to consider.”
Lady didn’t like that she had a point. “Well, is there anything else to do before all that?” She would cross the talking to the family bridge when it came to it. With any luck, she wouldn’t have to. It wasn’t like she was a particularly lucky person, but hey. A girl could dream.
Dom raised his hand, getting Ms. Poole’s attention. “Do you have an idea, Dom?”
He shrugged. “Maybe.” He looked to Lady. “If you don’t want to talk to the family directly, we could try indirectly.”
“How?”
“My uncle Chet. He was Lawrence’s friend once upon a time. I’m not sure how well he knows the family or if he even knows them at all really.”
“But?”
“But I think he paid someone some money. I remember my uncle complaining about it. Maybe it was the family. That side of the family is loaded. They offered to pay for Conners’ medical bills. Maybe he did something similar for Beatrice.”
“Maybe.” Lady wasn’t sure how likely that was, but it couldn’t hurt to talk to him anyway. “Do you know where he lives?”
“Naw. I’m not close to him. I’m sure Shannon would know, though.”
“Do you have her number?”
“Let’s go down to the station.” Ms. Poole pushed herself up and out of her rocking chair. “Conners should be there too. I would like a word with the both of them.”
“And that can’t be done over the phone?” Lady was pretty comfortable sitting down. She had hoped to rest for at least another fifteen minutes or so.
The frown Ms. Poole wore suggested she wasn’t going to let that happen. “Why talk with someone over the phone when you can speak to them in person? It’s all phones and e-mails and texts with this generation.”
“Don’t hate on technology just because you don’t understand it, Ms. P.”
“It’s my right as your elder to hate everything I don’t fully understand.” Ms. Poole marched to the door. “Come on then, both of you. There’s no point in sitting around here if you’re done with the floors.”
“Who’ll watch the front counter?” Normally Lady wouldn’t care, but it felt like she was melting furthe
r and further into her chair. She really didn’t want to get up.
“I’ll put a sign on the door. If someone wants to book a room, they can text me.”
With a groan, Lady slid a little further down. No one ever checked in. The front desk being empty for a couple of hours probably wouldn’t make a difference. She stared up at Dom’s hand as he offered it down to her on his way past. “Thanks,” she mumbled, grabbing on and allowing him to haul her to her feet.
“You’re lucky, you know,” said Dom as he walked with her out of the room.
“Am I?” that was news to Lady.
“Ms. Poole is a good teacher to have. You couldn’t ask for a more powerful witch as a mentor.”
“Yeah, if she ever taught me anything, I’m sure it would be nice.” Even so, Dom’s words weren’t lost on her. She wondered at them as she walked outside. Did he know the sort of magic Al was capable of? Lady had never seen anything like what she had done for Otsuya and Conners. If Dom did know about both of those things, well… what did that say about what Ms. Poole was capable of?
Chapter Nine
Shannon Antonie was sitting at the reception desk of the police station. Dark Lake was a sleepy little town when there wasn’t a murder taking place. Lady imagined it saw only slightly more foot traffic than the Fisherman’s Inn.
Shannon didn’t notice them come in. She had her eyes closed and earbuds in. She was swiveling her desk chair back and forth, presumably to the rhythm of music only she could hear.
Ms. Poole sighed. “This is very unprofessional,” she said quietly. She went up to the desk before raising her voice. “Excuse me.”
Shannon jumped, her eyes shooting open. She blushed. “Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Yes, people tend to miss things when they’re sleeping,” Ms. Poole said, regarding Shannon down the length of her nose.
Shannon frowned, narrowing her eyes like she wanted to say something. She resisted the urge to talk back, plastering on a smile instead. “Well, it’s a nice surprise to see you all here, Millie.” Her smile broadened and became a bit more genuine. “Lady!” That same smile faded a little when she spotted Dom. “And my sweet, little nephew… Well, not so little anymore obviously.” She laughed at her own bad joke, but it sounded forced. Dom’s mother was dead, and Shannon hadn’t been on great terms with her in the end. Her relationship with him was strained at best. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“No pleasure. We’re here on business.” Ms. Poole glanced toward the back of the station, in the direction of Conners’ office. “Is Conners in?”
The smile slipped from Shannon’s face completely. “He is,” she said slowly. “But he’s… He’s a little busy today. I really wish you’d called first.”
“See?” Lady didn’t even try to not sound smug. “Phones. They’re useful.”
Ms. Poole ignored Lady entirely. She didn’t seem deterred. “Why don’t you ask if he’ll see us.” It wasn’t a question.
“I get it if he’s napping on the job.” Lady went up to the reception desk, inserting herself into the conversation. If she left everything to Ms. Poole things might get ugly. There was no need to be rude. Shannon could be a frustrating woman, but she meant well. “We all know he’s been really stressed out lately. That’s why we’re here, actually. We’re helping him with that.”
“Really?” Shannon perked up. She scanned their faces with a hopeful expression of her own. “I knew something was wrong. Not that he’ll talk to me about it. He never talks to me about anything. I’m glad he opened up to someone, I guess.” She threw a furtive glance at her surroundings as if to make sure no one was listening in. “What’s it all about anyway? What did he tell you?”
“If he wanted you to know, he would have said something.” Dom said, arms folded over his chest.
“We actually wanted to speak to you as well,” Ms. Poole added before Shannon could say anything else. “Why don’t you come with us?”
Shannon frowned, looking torn. Finally, she stood. “I’ve been worried about him.” It was obvious and didn’t need to be said, but she said it anyway. She came around the desk and led the way into the back. Lady couldn’t help but notice that she was wearing what looked very much like designer clothes. Her pantsuit was perfectly tailored and the bottoms of her black pumps were a fashionable red. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail with a tie she had around her wrist as they walked.
The whole station seemed to be slacking off without Conners hovering over them. Lady spotted one officer doodling on a yellow legal pad and another playing some kind of first-person shooter on his work computer. Shannon touched the drawing officer on the shoulder as they passed. “Would you mind keeping an eye on the front for me? I need to go have a word with Conners.”
“Sure.” The officer barely looked up from his drawing.
“Our tax dollars at work, huh?” Lady said quietly enough for only Dom to hear.
“Our tax dollars at play,” he corrected, not bothering to whisper back and earning a few pointed glares for it. He ignored them.
“Excuse me, Sir?” Shannon knocked on Conners’ office door. No one answered immediately. She knocked again a little louder this time. “Excuse me. Are you there?”
Lady wondered if there was a shadow person in there now. What if he was asleep at his desk? Should they bust in and make sure he was okay? Fortunately, she didn’t have to worry long. “Shannon?” came a drowsy voice from behind the door. “Come in.”
Shannon pushed the door open and stepped inside. The office was as cramped as ever. Conners sat wedged into one corner behind his desk. He was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with one hand and rubbing at his desk with the other. It looked a little damp, like maybe he had drooled on it while napping. He definitely looked like he hadn’t expected more company than Shannon. “What’s this?” he asked, sitting up straighter. He stifled a yawn, making an obvious effort to appear like he hadn’t just been sleeping.
“They wanted to talk to you,” said Shannon.
Conners frowned. “You couldn’t have called ahead?”
“Phones!” Lady said to Ms. Poole emphatically, ignoring the weird looks she got.
“I wanted to sit down and have a word with you and Shannon,” said Ms. Poole, not even sparing Lady a glance.
Conners scanned his office. There wasn’t exactly enough room for everyone to sit down and have a chat. “And everyone has to be here for this why?”
“You asked for my help,” Ms. Poole reminded him. “If you want my help, you don’t get to decide what form it comes in.” She sat herself down in one of the only two chairs in the room. “And I’d like Shannon here, if you don’t mind. Indirectly or not, I feel she’s involved in this.”
“Am I?” Shannon rested her hand over her heart and scanned all the faces in the room, looking more apprehensive than ever.
“No, not really,” Conners said to her. He might have been trying to be reassuring, but it seemed she was already worked up.
“Come sit by me,” said Ms. Poole, patting the empty chair beside her.
“Fine,” Conners said with an exasperated sigh. “Everyone, take a seat. Apparently, I don’t have a say in any of this.”
“Sorry,” said Lady, going around to his desk and taking a seat on it. It wasn’t like she was going to get a chair, and her feet still hurt from all the walking she had done today.
“It’s fine,” said Conners. “It’s my own fault. I should have known something like this would happen once my mother got involved.” The squirming of Lady’s tote bag caught his eye. “Please tell me you didn’t bring your cat.”
Lady said nothing, though she did pull the bag a little closer to her chest. If he didn’t want to hear it, she wouldn’t say it.
“Didn’t I tell you last time not to bring any more cats into the police station?”
“It’s the same cat. I’ve only got one cat,” Lady mumbled in Lion’s defense.
“It’s not important,�
� Ms. Poole said with a wave of her hand. “Forget about the cat. If he does anything, I’ll pay for the damage.”
Conners didn’t argue with her. “Let’s get on with it. What do you want to talk about?” His attention went to Dom who was standing near the door leaning against the wall. “And what does he have to do with any of this?”
“I needed his help for something,” Lady explained. “He got involved.”
Conners groaned. “This is getting out of hand.”
“Don’t be like that.” Shannon reached out across the deck and patted Conners on the back of the hand. “Obviously, a lot of people care about you.”
“I don’t actually care about him all that much,” interjected Dom.
“Thanks,” said Conners, and he might have meant it. He wasn’t a guy who handled affection well.
“You should know,” Ms. Poole turned to face Shannon. “We believe Conners’ troubles have something to do with the shooting at your house that happened a few years back.”
Shannon’s hands flew to her mouth and she gave a little gasp. “No. Really?” She looked to Conners. “Is that true? Why didn’t you say anything?”
Conners took a deep breath before speaking. He looked more tired than ever, and Lady very much doubted all that fatigue came from sleep deprivation. “Honestly, I’m not convinced the two things are related.”
“Lady and I believe they may be,” Ms. Poole continued. “He’s been having nightmares that coincide with… the manifestation of certain entities.”
“Entities,” Shannon repeated. “My goodness. What sort of entities?”
Ms. Poole filled Shannon in on everything that was going on while Conners stared miserably off into a wall. Shannon became progressively more alarmed, uttering the occasional, “Oh no,” or “Oh, my goodness.”