Shadows Fall (19 page)

“Huh,” I said, at a loss. “What the hell do I do about it?”

“I’ve no idea. I’ve never dealt with a computer that wouldn’t fucking restart before.”

“Well, I can fix that,” I said, scraping back my chair. I reached under the desk where the power strip was mounted and I unplugged the fucking thing. Leaning back so I could see over the lip of the table, I checked to make sure it was the right plug. Nothing had changed, so I just yanked out all of the plugs attached to the power strip.

Riot gasped as I stood up. I followed his gaze to the computer and was shocked by what I saw. Again, nothing had changed. The numbers were still scrolling.

“Ho-
lee
shit,” Riot murmured. “What is this, like
Poltergeist
or something?”

The reference sparked something in my brain. The goddamned pendant. I pulled the thing over my head and shoved it as far down into my pocket as I could get it. The computer screen immediately went dark.
Huh
. So the necklace seemed to be bypassing the wards on the shop and channeling some kind of spirit energy inside. Or maybe Brandon Meyers was just that powerful… or desperate.

Riot turned to me, looking a little bit pale despite the wry smile he was giving me. “Bro, if you don’t get a new computer, like yesterday, we’re going to stage an intervention.”

“Yeah, yeah, no shit. But I gotta be able to finish the budget before I can figure out how I can afford one.”

“Why don’t you just let me—”

“No.”

“But you know it’s no big deal—”

“No.” It wasn’t the first time Riot had offered to infuse a little of his abundant trust fund into the shop, and it wouldn’t be the last. I knew he meant well, and I loved him for it, but if the business couldn’t survive on its own profits, then it
shouldn’t
survive. Maybe it went back to my Romany heritage, but I did
not
accept charity.

Riot hung his head, and I immediately felt bad for snapping—even though he knew exactly what my reaction would be, what it would always be. “Thanks, man, but I’m sure I can swing it. I just have to move some things around, ya know?”

He nodded and gave me a small smile. My stomach clenched at the thought that I might have truly hurt his feelings. I wasn’t good at feelings, though. I tended to bury them under humor and snark, but I did neither this time. Instead, I resorted to bribery. I clapped a hand on the back of his neck and led him out of the office.

“I’m done looking at this piece of shit for the day though. I’ll come out and help you guys pull drinks while I’m waiting for Charlie, okay?”

That got me the shit-eating grin I was so used to from Riot. “Sounds good, man. It’s time for my break anyway. I’ll take a large, skinny, half-caf mocha latté.”

I shook my head and grumbled, but I was smiling as I shoved my best friend through the door and out into the command center. “Coming right up,
sir
,” I said with a wink. I settled into the mindless task of pulling drinks and daydreaming, waiting for my man to walk in the door.

* * * *

The person who did walk through the door, after the lunch rush, was Hester. I was surprised to see her again so soon—I figured she would limit her interaction with me to small doses. When she saw me, she made a beeline for the counter with what looked like actual concern in her eyes.

I wiped my hands on a dishrag and walked around the counter to meet her. “I’m taking a break,” I said to Riot over my shoulder.

“Hey, Gran,” I said when I reached her. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

She narrowed her eyes, but looked me over as if checking to make sure I was intact. “I’m here to check the
sapaśaṭāzho.
Can’t have you messing up my hard work. Come, sit. I take bandage off.”

I cringed just thinking about the grease-soaked bandage underneath the plastic wrap. I’d worn a thin long-sleeved shirt that day to cover it. “We should do that back in the office. Kind of unsanitary to do it around the food and drink out here.”

Not waiting for me because… well, she didn’t give a shit, Hester pushed through the swinging door and made her way through the command center and back to the office. I flashed Riot a helpless look before following her.

I took a seat at the staff table and stretched out my arm on the table, while Hester washed her hands in the kitchenette.

“Scissors?” she asked.

I pointed her to the correct drawer. I worried for half a second, but then I figured if she had a steady enough hand to tattoo me, she’d probably do all right cutting the bandage off. She got out the scissors and came over to sit beside me.

“I cut off bandage and bury it for you.”

“Okay,” I said, because what else was there to say about something so crazy?

She carefully slipped the lower blade of the scissors under the cling wrap and began sawing away at it. It took a while; cling wrap wasn’t made to come off easy. She kept flicking looks at my face in between slices. I could tell she wanted to ask something but was hesitant to, for some reason.

“You try it out yet? The
sapaśaṭāzho
… Have you gone out without your music?”

Oh
. She wanted to know if her sigil had worked, and maybe she was even a little concerned about me. I wasn’t sure what to do with any kind of familial empathy. “Uh, yeah. I did it on the way over here. It totally worked. At first, it was really overwhelming to hear all the normal noises around me. I’m not used to them. Once I got over that, it was amazing! I could see all of the
mule
, but I didn’t have to listen to them.

“I tried the necklace too… on this one spirit I’ve been seeing, one I’m curious about. It
really
worked.”

Hester nodded but said nothing. Before she made the final cut on the bandage, she pulled a wadded up plastic grocery bag out of her hobo knapsack. Then she cut the last strip of plastic on the bandage and it dropped onto the table. She stuffed it into the grocery bag, which she then put back in her purse.

I turned my head away as the nauseating stale bacon smell emanating from my arm wafted up to my nose. “Oh, gross,” I muttered. “I’m going to wash up.”

I soaped and scrubbed my arm as much as the sore skin would allow, and then dried it gently with a dish towel. Looking down at the black ink etched deep into my dark skin, I had to admit she did a nice job. “You could moonlight as a tattoo maven, Granny.”

“Bah!” she said, but one side of her mouth quirked up in an almost smile.

“Let’s go back out to the lounge area—I could use some coffee. We’ll get you some tea, too.”

She shrugged but allowed me to lead her back out to the command center, and to my usual table in the corner. I cringed inwardly as Riot made his way over to us. I could tell he was going to try and talk to Hester. The guy couldn’t stand to be disliked by anyone, even if it was completely unfounded, so he would usually pick at them until they finally gave in. I needed to make him understand that it wouldn’t work on Hester, other than to irritate her—an emotion she’d likely take out on me.

“Hey there, Mrs. Faa, good to see you again.”

Hester just stared. And frowned. I rubbed my forehead to stave off the impending headache.

“Got another migraine, there, T?”

“No, just stress. I’m okay.” I looked around the shop and saw that there was only one other customer, who’d already been served. “Would you mind terribly getting us some drinks?”

“Sure, no prob. You want your usual?”

“Yep, red-eye.”

“What about you, Mrs. Faa?” Riot asked, painfully turning on the charm. “I’ve just added a new specialty drink for the week. I call it the Pooh Bear—it’s a mocha-latté with honey, cinnamon, and nutmeg. I know, it sounds like it would be gross, but it’s really
delicious—
”

“Dude…” I interrupted. I had to stop Riot’s flow of babbling, because it could go on forever, and I knew it would just alienate Hester even more. “Granny drinks tea. I doubt she’d like one of your fancy coffee concoctions.”

I yelped when Hester popped me on the back of the head…
again
.

“Think I can’t handle the strong stuff, boy?” She turned hard eyes to Riot. “Make me one. ’Course it would be better with some whiskey.”

Riot beamed at the olive branch—which was less of an olive branch, and more of a challenge to me—and winked at her. “Well, that’s not on the menu, but I wouldn’t mind slipping you some of my private stock.”

“Riot!” I admonished.

He shrugged, unconcerned. “What? The lady wants what she wants. Be back in a flash!”

Once he was gone, I gave Hester a knowing look. “You didn’t have to do that. It’s okay if you don’t like coffee.”

“Whoever said I don’t like coffee? You haven’t seen me in eight years!”

“And whose fault is that?” I could feel my voice trying to rise as my stress level climbed, so I took a deep breath and counted to ten. “Never mind, not the point. Sorry I tried to order for you. Won’t happen again.”

She cocked an eyebrow at me that clearly said ‘see that it doesn’t’ and grabbed my arm with her bony fingers. “Looks okay.”

“Yeah, thanks Granny.” I really meant it, too. I couldn’t even imagine all the ways the
sapaśaṭāzho
was going to improve my life. I might even be able to have a real relationship with Charlie, assuming he was willing.

At that moment, Riot reappeared with our drinks. I took mine from him, then he placed Hester’s in front of her and waited expectantly. She picked up the cup rather daintily, considering her irreverent personality, and took a tiny sip. Closing her eyes briefly, she seemed to be considering the flavor of the drink.

When she opened them again, she looked up at Riot and nodded. “Is good.”

Riot started to speak further, but I gave him a vigorous shake of my head when Hester wasn’t looking, and he closed his mouth. That was high praise from Hester, and as good as he’d ever get. It would be best to end it on a high note. Obviously getting the message, Riot smiled at us and made himself scarce.

“So you really like it?” I asked Hester, but I didn’t hear her answer. My attention was drawn to glass façade of the café. They were all there, all of the ones I’d been seeing recently—Violet eyes, African girl, Mini-twin, Blondie, and Brandon Meyers. They were lined up in front of the glass, staring at me… waiting.

“What’s wrong with you boy?”

Hester’s voice cut into my stupor, causing me to shiver. I answered her question with one of my own. “Did you ever see the same
mule
all the time?”

She shrugged. “Sure. Once they pick a spot to show up, they pretty much stay close to it. I see the same ones in the same places every day.”

“Exactly. That’s been my experience up until a few weeks ago. I thought that was the way it is, you know? But these five spirits have been following me.”

She looked from her drink abruptly, visibly startled. “Whatcha you mean… following you?”

“These five
mule
—three women, a little girl, and a young man—appear to me many times each day, but always in different places. Just… wherever I am—several spots on my way to and from the shop, at my house,
in
my house. This one, the man, is strong. He’s gotten past my wards here, but only when I was wearing the necklace.”

Hester’s deeply lined face creased with concern. She leaned forward and actually clasped both my hands with her gnarled ones. “This is very not good,
Titus le Harmanosko
.”

“What? Why?” I asked. Adrenaline surged through me hard, making me dizzy and a little nauseated. Why was it always bad news?

“It could mean that their place is you—you’re that spot that they’re stuck to.”

“But why?” I had no idea why the spirits would have latched onto me. “And what do I do about it?”

“Only you can figure out why. Must be some connection there. You have to figure out what it is… could be important.”

“I’ve never seen any of these people in my life!”

Hester shrugged again, but she still looked worried—and that freaked me right the fuck out. She wasn’t the type of woman to get rattled easily, if at all.

“There is something, though.”

“What?”

“I think these people were all victims of a serial killer. I know the man was, because I was the one who found his body. And Charlie is investigating all of them. Maybe that’s the connection… I don’t know.”

“Charlie? The naked man from your house?” Her eyes became shrewd, focused, searching my face.

“Uh, yeah. Charlie. The guy I’m seeing.”

Her eyes narrowed into slits and her jaw clenched. “He’s police?!”

I thumped my forehead against the table. “Oh, for fuck’s sake…”

Chapter Thirteen

Charlie had been to the morgue more times in the past couple of months than he had in the entirety of his time as a detective. That was pretty fucked up, even for homicide. Once again, he was in that stark, cold room full of stainless steel and blue sterile paper, shooting the shit with Karen Johanssen and David Sever.