A Barrel of Whiskey - (An Urban Fantasy Whiskey Witches Novel) (15 page)

Paige poured her sister a cup of coffee, sprinkled some sugar into it, then doused it with milk. “I might be a bit excited about today.”

Leslie took the offered cup with a smile. “I can understand that. I think I’d be a little excited, too. Just…be careful, okay? She’s been through a lot.”

“Yeah.” Paige stared at the stove, unsure what to make. “I remember what it felt like when Rachel left us.”

“Yeah. That.”

“What do you guys normally have for breakfast?”

“Cereal? And if I’m feelin’ really generous, I’ll let them have milk.”

Paige chuckled. “You’re awesome.”

“I try.” Leslie perched on a stool on the other side of the island. “What are you doing today?”

“Don’t really know. I can’t work on Heather’s case and I’m not officially working anyway. I’m staying here.”

“To do?”

“Talk to Leah. Get Bobby settled. I’m sure there’s some sort of paperwork or something that has to get filled out.”

“Oh, gads. Insurance. You’ve got to get insurance for him.”

Paige groaned. “I need a job.”

“Yeah. Have you looked into jobs in Portland?”

“Les, we just talked about that, like, a few hours ago. That’s no joke.”

“Oh. Right. Well, a lot’s happened in those few hours.”

“Fair point.”

“So, you’re really going to stay at home all day?”

“Sure.”

“Do you even know what that means?”

Paige hadn’t really had a day off in years. “You’re trying to tell me there isn’t a lot to do here?”

“Oh,” Leslie said with a tired sigh. “There’s lots to do, but you’re used to a lot more action than we have here. We find lost socks and drag resisting kids to the bus. We plan meals. We do laundry. We do a lot of cleaning. And now, we feed babies. So, yes. There’s lots of stuff to do, but you’re going to be bored.”

“You really don’t think I’ll be able to take it.”

“You don’t have a murder to solve.”

“Technically, I do.” Paige urged a well of guilt to rise inside her for being so happy so soon after Heather had been murdered. Then, she felt guilt for having to force the guilt. What the hell?

“Heather’s.”

“Yeah.” Geez. What kind of a horrible person
was
she? An overwhelmed horrible person. That’s what kind.

Leslie shook her head. “What are you going to do? If you help on the case, you’ll endanger Bobby’s life.”

“But I could search for information behind the comforts of Grandma’s wards.” Paige smiled impishly. “I wouldn’t endanger him then, would I? And I’d still be able to spend time with Leah.”

Leslie laughed. “Okay. I’m going to lay bets with Grandma on how long you’ll be able to stay at home.”

“Can I get in on that bet?” Dexx asked, walking into the kitchen. “When did Rachel actually leave last night?”

Leslie leaned against the island. “About one. I don’t know what she hoped to learn. There’s something going on.”

“But what?” Paige asked. “And you’re sure you guys don’t want anything more than cereal?”

“You really want to make breakfast? Save it for Saturday. We like to sleep in and do everything leisurely, but a nice breakfast would be amazing.”

Paige nodded.

“Bacon.” Dexx smiled. “Everyone loves bacon.”

Leslie nodded. “But there’s not bacon on Thursday.”

“Why did Rachel want to stay here?” Paige asked.

“I don’t know.” Leslie shrugged. “To see what kind of trouble she could cause?”

“Nah. There was something. Just in the way she was working the angles, trying to stay here.”

“What are you thinking?”

“She’s looking for something.”

“Like?”

“Information. And I bet she wanted to look at Grandma’s old books.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because
I
want to see her old books. There’s a ton of information we never paid attention to that I’m fairly certain is pretty important right now. Stuff that’s going to kick our asses.”

“Like?”

“Like the Eastwood witches. What was she saying about Mark? What is the deal with the Eastwoods?”

Leslie shrugged again. “That’s a good question.”

“This whole treaty thing brought it up for me. Something is going on there, and I want to know what it is.”

“Okay. But you’re hungry for other knowledge than that.”

It felt really, really wonderful to be around people she didn’t have to hide from. “I am. I want to know more about these demons. Names. Signatures. Who they are. And I want to know more about Oriel. Who is he and why is he interested in me?” And why did it seem that he’d maneuvered her back to Texas for Bobby?

“Another good question, but what are you hoping you’ll find?”

“I don’t know.” She really didn’t. “One of Great Grandma’s old journals in English?”

“Yeah. Good luck there.”

Footsteps thundered down the stairs.

“That’s my queue,” Leslie said, getting up. “My job just called.”

They spent the rest of the morning shoveling cereal down the throats of children who weren’t even awake yet. Paige watched, waiting for Leah to come down.

Her phone rang about eight. “Whiskey.”

“Henry. Are you and Dexx coming in today?”

“Oh, hey.” Paige ducked into the living room. “A lot’s happened since yesterday.”

“Besides your best friend being murdered by something that bends time?”

“Yeah. Besides that.”

“Um.” He paused. “Care to enlighten me?”

“Yeah.” She stopped. The house was warded, but what about phone lines? Could angels tap into those? Did they have the ability to listen in? “Can you come by for breakfast?”

“Paige, you’re forty-five minutes away.”

“Did I mention Alma made pie?”

“Apple pie?”

“Ethel brought them over last night.”

“Ethel?” Henry sighed. “Fine. I’ll be right over.”

Paige hung up the phone. “Dexx, you’ve got Bobby.”

“Sleeping baby,” he called. “On it.”

Paige headed up the stairs to Leah’s old room. She opened the door, peering inside.

Leah sat on the edge of the bed, her suitcases open on the floor all around her. She looked lost.

“Hey, Lee.” Paige stepped gingerly into the room. “Did you want something to eat?”

“No,” Leah said, her voice distant. “I’m not hungry.”

“How about you eat something anyway?”

Leah shook her head.

Short of picking the girl up and dragging her down to the kitchen, Paige didn’t know what else to do. She hadn’t been a mother for the last five years, and this wasn’t like riding a bike. “Okay. Well, cereal’s downstairs if you want it.” She turned to leave.

“You’re just going to leave again?”

“Yeah. To the kitchen.”

“I could tell you really wanted to talk to me. You tried really hard.”

“Look, Lee.” Paige put one hand on the door. “I don’t know what to say. I’ve been gone for five years. I’ve forgotten about you for five years. I’m wracked with guilt. I don’t know what to say or what to do. Half of me wants to give you your space. The other half of me wants to wrap you in my arms and never let you go.”

Leah flinched.

“Part of me wants to treat you like you’re seven so I can get my missing five years back. The other part of me wants to pull my head from my butt and come to terms with the fact that I will never get those years back.”

Leah bowed her head.

Paige didn’t know what else to say. What words mirrored her emotions? Her thoughts?

“Grammie said she was glad you weren’t there.”

Paige nodded, but refrained from saying anything. She didn’t want to be the parent that put her kid in the middle of her war with another adult. She’d seen too many of those kids filter through the precinct.

Also, she had a daughter who hated her because Rachel couldn’t keep
her
opinions to herself. Of course, if Paige hadn’t summoned a demon to kill her mother, she’d still have her memories of her daughter and might have been able to fight back. That was neither here nor there. Paige wasn’t going to do to Leah what Rachel had.

“I know you couldn’t have done anything else.”

“And I know,” Paige said bluntly yet quietly, “that you’re saying what you think I want to hear.”

Leah looked up, a disagreeing frown on her face.

“I was a kid once, too, Lee. I said all kinds of things to make Grandma Alma happy and get her off my back.”

Blinking, Leah looked back down to the blue and brown throw rug on the floor.

“I’m just saying, you can say whatever to me. You’re safe with me. I may not like what you have to say, but you don’t have to tell me what you think I want to hear.”

“Are you just saying that to get me to like you?” Leah shrank in on herself.

Paige took a half-step closer to the girl, then stopped. If the girl in front of her wasn’t her daughter, her heart wouldn’t be melting. The girl was playing her. She’d seen it before in kids, especially girls for some reason, that went through the foster system. Leah was playing all the right strings to get Paige to feel sorry for her. Oh, she was good. “No, Lee.”

Leah flicked her gaze toward Paige, then back to the floor.

“Look, one day you’ll realize I’m on your side. Really on your side. Until then? Play whatever game this is and be done with it. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

“You’re not leaving for work?” Leah spat out the word “work.”

“Not today.” Paige turned and left for real this time. She was going to have to do something about Leah’s ill feelings about work. She was going to have get a
job
one day and, heaven forbid she have a kid and have to work at the same time. Holy shit. “You’ll wish I had, I’m sure.”

Henry showed up several minutes after that.

Paige stood on the blind side of the door. “Did you see anyone out there?”

Henry frowned at her. “What?”

“Rachel. Did you see Rachel out there?”

“No. Why would I see her, anyway?”

“She’s back in town. Brought Leah. Something’s up. I just don’t know what.”

He closed the door behind him. “You mentioned pie.”

“I might have over spoke.” She walked toward the kitchen. “Ethel brought the apples and Grandma did make the pie, but we ate it all last night.”

“Paige,” he said, his tone accusatory.

“Sorry. I had to get you over here.”

“Why?”

Paige cleared the door to the kitchen and walked toward the play pen. They needed to get Bobby his own gear. His own car seat. He needed a bouncy seat. She didn’t remember much from when Leah was a baby, but she remembered that bouncy seat had saved her life more than once.

“What couldn’t you tell me over the phone?”

“This.” She retrieved Bobby from the play pen. “This is Heather’s baby.”

“Cute kid.” Henry reached out and gave Bobby one of his fingers. “How’d you end up with him?”

“According to social services, I was named next of kin.”

“Okay. Still doesn’t explain why I traveled for forty-eight minutes for no pie.”

“He’s the prophet. Or a prophet. Whatever. Heather was killed because the angels are trying to kill him.”

Henry blinked slowly, his expression deadpan. “You want to run that by me again?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t sound any less crazy the more times it’s repeated. Trust me. Angels brought him to me. I doubt seriously Heather named me as next of kin. We hadn’t talked in over five years.” She just now made that connection. The angel who’d delivered Bobby to her had probably just told her that. If she was serious about not wanting a trail leading to the Whiskey’s, she’d make sure there wasn’t a paper trail, either. So, what about paperwork? What about insurance? Taxes?

Tax credit. Holy Hell. She’d be able to use the tax credit again. Blessed Mother. She might actually get a tax return.

How in the eleven pits of Hell was Ethel going to make it credible that Paige had delivered a baby?

“So, you think an angel killed his mother?”

“Don’t know that yet. Angels are behind it, but would they have stopped time and tortured Heather? I’ve got to be careful. I can’t work this case.”

“I’m willing to bend a few rules on this one. She was a friend. You knew her. Normally, that would be a strike against you, but in this instance? You’re her best bet in finding her killer.”

“Normally, I’d agree with you, but whoever killed her is still looking for Bobby. Trust me. Heather wasn’t tortured because he wanted to hurt her. She was tortured because he was after Bobby’s location.”

“That doesn’t make sense. He was just hiding under the bed.”

Paige shrugged. “The boy has some power. How much, I don’t know. He was able to alert me to Rachel showing up at midnight last night.”

“So, she’s a threat to him as well?”

“If the angels are trying to kill him and she’s the angel whisperer? And a bitch? Yeah.”

“Wait. A what?” He shook his head.

“An angel whisperer.” Shit. She’d forgotten he didn’t know everything.

“Like you.”

“No. I can reach through the Gate and bring demons or send them back. She can only hear what angels are talking about and tell them things.”

“Oh. So, if she discovered you had him?”

“Yeah. She’d tell the angels and they’d be knocking on our door, killing us to get to him.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“And you working the case?”

“Could bring angels down on my doorstep trying to kill us. I’d rather that not happen.”

Henry bit his lip and shook his head. “There are things I’ve missed about having you around, Whiskey.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“You sure know how to keep things interesting.”