Demons LLC (Damned and Cursed Book 7) (28 page)

"
You
want to hire Alex?"

"Sorry," Kylie said, smiling.
 
"But it looks like even from the grave, I'm going to have to ask for money."

"This is my job, Meagan," Alex said.
 
"I'm a paranormal investigator.
 
I help the living, and I help the…"
 
He hesitated.
 
"Dead."

"And what exactly can you do?"

Kylie saved him before he was expected to run down a list of his many powers.

"Trust me," she said.
 
"Alex is worth it.
 
He's awesome."

Meagan eyed him up, even harder than she did previously.
 
Leaning back, she broke physical contact for a moment, separating her from the spirit realm.
 
Alex held out his pinky, and she took it, which was more than enough for her to see Kylie again.

"How much do you charge?"

Alex steeled himself for the difficult part that Cindy and he discussed at length.

"Seven hundred dollars a day.
 
Plus expenses.
 
But expenses are light, if that matters.
 
I'm staying at a motel on the other side of town."

Meagan was quiet a moment, but it was more for show.
 
It was an easy decision in her mind.

"Agreed, but with conditions."

"And what's that?"

"I get to see her when I want.
 
At night, if that works better for you.
 
I'll stop by your motel room, or you can come over here.
 
And when everything is over, I get to have a day with her."

Alex didn't have a problem with that.

"Okay," Meagan said, smiling at her daughter.
 
"What now?"

He pulled the folded paperwork out of his back pocket.
 
Cindy would have been proud that he actually remembered.

"Now for the not-so-fun part."

Meagan read over the paperwork carefully, while Alex waited patiently.
 
It was designed to protect Alex and Cindy, and Demons LLC.
 
He went over the same details with her that he did with Kylie.
 
All he promised was a name, not a trip to the police station.
 
Ultimately, he was working for Kylie's piece of mind, and not for justice in the way the living knew it.

Meagan wasn't bothered by that at all.
 
She told Alex that a name would do fine, and leave the rest to her.
 
Her tone, her demeanor, made the hair on Alex's neck stand up.

After a teary, but hopeful goodbye, Alex and Kylie left the house while Meagan waved from the porch.
 
Nate was waiting by the truck, and slipped through the door to take his spot in the middle.
 
The meeting with Meagan went far better than he expected.
 
No hysterics, no frantic calls to the police about a stranger in her home claiming to be able to talk to her deceased daughter.

He had a signed contract in his back pocket, and it was finally time to go to work.

"You holding up okay?" he asked Kylie, who was quiet.

"Yeah, I'm fine.
 
It's just…good to be able to talk to Mom again."
 
She poked his shoulder.
 
"In all my rush to get back here to search for my killer, I didn't even think about how awesome it would be to tell Mom I love her.
 
Thank you for that."

He nodded and smiled.
 
They circled the truck and climbed inside.
 
He gave one final wave to Meagan as he circled the driveway and left her property.

"How did everything go?" Nate asked.

"It went great.
 
We're in business.
 
Kylie, this riverbank your Mom talked about, is that where you died?"

"I don't know."

"What about the alley where you woke up?
 
Is that near the club?
 
Can you get us back there?"

She lowered her head, embarrassed.
 
"I…no, I don't think so.
 
I told you.
 
I didn't exactly take notes when I woke up.
 
Sorry."

"It's okay.
 
I've been thinking about this.
 
We've got other places to start.
 
We'll go—"

"Let's go see Zoey," Kylie said.

"I was thinking the police station.
 
Figure out what they know.
 
But…you're right.
 
She's a great place to start.
 
She's in school now though, right?"

Kylie lowered her eyes.
 
"Uh, no, she's not."

"There," Kylie said, pointing.
 
"The blue house, second from the end, with the Trailblazer in the driveway."

"Hmm," Nate said.
 
He glanced at the houses around him.
 
"This neighborhood is a little different than yours."

Kylie narrowed her eyes.
 
"Just go ahead and say it.
 
What word do you want to use?
 
Poor?
 
Struggling?"

"Hey, I wasn't going to say that.
 
I think it's cool, actually, that you and Zoey are friends.
 
I bet they gave you a hard time at school."

There was sadness in Kylie's voice.

"She didn't care where I came from, and I didn't care where she came from.
 
She was my best friend.
 
Really, my only friend.
 
It's weird how kids can be.
 
They made fun of both of us for where we came from, and we're the opposite.
 
It doesn't make sense.
 
But it pulled us together, I think."

Alex slowed the truck and parked across from Zoey's home.
 
The house was in need of a few repairs.
 
A shutter or two hung on by a single nail, moving slightly with the breeze.
 
A down-spout was missing from one of the rain gutters.

"Why isn't she in school?"

Kylie sighed.
 
"She stopped going after I was killed.
 
I guess she could have gone back by now, but I have a feeling she didn't.
 
That's her dad's car in the driveway.
 
He works nights, and he's been watching her during the day.
 
I…just want to make sure she's okay."

Alex grabbed his phone and jotted some notes, writing down everything Kylie said.
 
He made a listing for Zoey, her age, the school she went to, her father's name, the type of car they drove, any little detail that might matter.

"Okay.
 
Let's go."

He was halfway up the sidewalk when he realized he was alone.
 
Turning his head, he saw Kylie and Nate standing in the middle of the street.
 
Kylie was taking deep breaths, her eyes wide, in the middle of a panic attack.
 
The visit with her mother went well, but the thought of seeing her old friend was too much.
 
She leaned over and rested her hands on her knees.
 
An old van and a car passed through the pair, and Kylie didn't even flinch.
 
Alex took a step to approach her, ready to calm her down.

It turned out he didn't have to.

Nate was at her side, his arm around her shoulders.
 
He was hunched over as well.
 
He whispered quiet, encouraging words as he rubbed her back.
 
Those words turned to jokes, and they worked, as short laughs escaped in between her strained breathing.
 
She brushed hair away from her face, but Nate stopped her before she could adjust her glasses.

"Let me do that," he said.
 
"I've always wanted to touch a girl's glasses."

"I'm sure that's not all you want to touch."

"Yeah, let me touch your shoes, too."

Kylie giggled and stood to her full height.
 
Despite the age difference, Kylie was shorter than Nate.
 
A smile crossed her face as he made a big presentation of pushing her glasses onto her nose.
 
They laughed together, and Alex was touched at the scene.

"Are you ready?" Alex asked as they joined him.

Kylie nodded.
 
"I think so."

"Nate—"

"I know, I know.
 
Stay out here, right?"

"You got it."

"No," Kylie said, surprised the both of them.
 
"Nate can come with us."
 
She looked at him.
 
"You'll like Zoey."

Alex shrugged.
 
Ultimately, he didn't care, as long as the both of them were relatively quiet.

He knocked on the front door.
 
Inside, there was the sound of someone tripping over something, followed by cursing, before the front door opened.

"That's Zoey's father," Kylie informed.
 
"David Gallner."

The man had the look of someone who'd just woken up.
 
Guilt poked at Alex at the thought of ruining the sleep of a man who worked the night shift.
 
His hair was a mess, his eyes only half open.
 
He was still in his sleep-ware, a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt with a few tiny holes.

"Damn dog," he muttered, fixing his gaze on Alex.
 
"Yeah?"

"Morning, sir.
 
My name is Alex Teague.
 
I was hoping I could talk with Zoey for a few minutes.
 
Is she home?"

David looked Alex up and down.
 
"You don't look much like the police."

"No, sir.
 
I'm actually a private investigator.
 
Meagan Sinclair hired me."

David frowned and clenched his eyes shut while shaking his head.
 
"Stop with the
sir
shit.
 
The name's David.
 
Come on in."

Alex smiled and stepped foot inside the living room.
 
The couch still had the blanket and pillow from where David had slept.
 
The furniture was old and torn in a few spots, but Alex liked the house.

"Don't mind the mess," he said.
 
"And don't mind that old mutt over there.
 
I work nights, so I sleep out here so I don't wake the wife up.
 
But guess who sleeps with me every night on that tiny-ass couch.
 
Old Princess over there."

"Hi, Princess!" Kylie said.
 
She squatted and waved frantically at the collie, German shepherd mix.
 
The beautiful dog sat on its haunches in between the living room and kitchen.
 
"I've missed you too, girl!"

The dog stared directly at Kylie and let out a low whine.
 
Her tail began wagging as she grew more excited.
 
She took a step forward, but then lost sight of Kylie and stared at the ceiling.

"Dumb dog," David said.
 
"She likes catnip, so that should tell you all you need to know."

"My first girlfriend had a dog that liked apples," Nate said.
 
"You said have seen it.
 
You could roll an apple on the floor, and the dog would go nuts.
 
It would just chew and claw at the thing—"

Alex cleared his throat loudly, and Nate got the message.
 
He apologized quietly before going silent.

David folded his blanket and set his pillow aside.

"So, a private investigator," he said, shaking his head.
 
"I guess that doesn't surprise me.
 
Meagan always has been a little
off
."

Kylie scowled at the disparaging words about her mother.

"Money will do that to you," he continued.
 
"I liked Kylie.
 
Very sweet, level-headed girl.
 
She kept Zoey out of trouble."

Alex looked around for any signs of a high school senior milling about.
 
He didn't hear any voices, didn't hear TV or music blaring from a room.

"Is Zoey here?
 
I won't take up too much of her time."

"She is, but I don't think you'll get much out of her."
 
His shoulders slumped and gaze fell.
 
"She…hasn't been doing well since Kylie died."

David approached a door in the back of the living room that led downstairs.
 
Kylie stared in confusion, glancing back and forth between the stairs and Zoey's father.

"Zoey moved downstairs?" she said aloud.

"Zoey, honey?" David called.
 
"Someone's here to talk to you.
 
Why don't you come up?
 
I'll make you breakfast."

"I'm not hungry," a voice called.
 
"Tell whoever it is to go away."

"You have to eat.
 
Just a bowl of cereal or something."

He was answered by music.
 
Zoey already had enough talking.

"She hasn't been out of the basement in weeks.
 
We…we don't know what to do."

"Is it okay if I talk to her?"

"Sure.
 
Although, as you can see, she's not in the mood to talk."

Alex slowly descended the creaky stairs, closing the door behind him.
 
The light completely disappeared, and he stumbled once before finding the handrail.
 
He was tempted to flip on his night vision, but decided a glowing set of eyes wouldn't be best for a grieving teenager to see.

"Uh, Zoey?"

Still only the music.