Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
Erasmus
It had taken three days to come up with a date and time that worked for both Detective Cardoza and Janet Meeker. Janet hadn’t been happy when I told her I was going to meet with Detective Cardoza first. She’d reluctantly agreed on a time later in the afternoon. Just like last time, Janet started out friendly and grew annoyed and demanding by the end of the conversation. I’d never met a person so hot and cold.
Franklin was still working on identifying the John Doe in the morgue. Depending on the time I was finished and just how much necromancer juice I had left, I might offer to bring his victim’s soul back later today. If it was too late or if I was wiped, then it could wait until tomorrow. Unfortunately, the autopsy had already been performed. I mentally cringed at the idea of bringing a soul back into a cut up body. Most of the time, it went okay. However, when it went bad, it really went bad. At the very least, I could get Franklin a name.
It was a lot earlier in the morning than I liked getting started. The sun had risen, but barely. Thankfully I was driving west, headed to St. Tammany Parish in Louisiana so the sun wasn’t in my eyes. I had the radio on and had just finished a fast-food morning breakfast. I still had about a fourth of my soda left and considered stopping and getting more when I got closer to my destination. It was never a bad idea to sugar up before a big day of soul retrieval.
I’d traveled to Louisiana enough that I knew the radio stations along the way and when my favorite Mississippi one started to fade into scratches and dead space, I switched it up and continued on my merry way. While it was a workday, traffic was light on the open highway. The clouds were gone and the sun shone brightly in my review. I inhaled deeply, enjoying the beautiful day. It wouldn’t stay that way for long. It never did.
Along the way I was greeted with yards littered with blow-up Christmas decorations. I didn’t really understand the trend and often found them more gaudy than festive, but who was I to judge someone’s holiday spirit? The end of December was a festive time for witches and warlocks also. Winter solstice was widely celebrated and while those decorations were more subtle than the strings of brightly colored lights that lit up human Christmas, they were still nice to see. Hanukkah, Kwanza, and a litany of other celebrations also dotted the late December calendar. Honestly, it was amazing anything got done this time of year.
The Welcome to Louisiana sign greeted me to a different state, and I hummed along to a new song on the radio. I’d left home today before Franklin, but he kissed me goodbye and told me to call or text when I arrived. I had no idea how my lips could still feel so tingly hours later, and yet they did.
Thoughts of Franklin generally consumed any mental idle time. It was a good way to zone out and just be. That’s the mental place I was in when I noticed a large, black SUV looming in my rearview mirror. The driver was tailgating me in the worst way possible.
My mood instantly soured. “There’s plenty of room. Go the fuck around!” Of course the driver couldn’t hear me, but yelling at them still made me feel better.
Five minutes later, they were closer than ever. Exasperated, I pulled into the middle lane, hoping they’d pass me by. They didn’t. The vehicle followed. My irritation quickly morphed into unease. I yanked my car back into the right lane and the fucker followed me again. By now they were so close to my ass all I could see was their bumper.
I needed to get off the interstate. I also needed to call for help. “Call Frank—oof.” My body jerked as my car was rammed from behind. My seatbelt caught and jerked me back into position. “What the fuck?” I pressed on the accelerator while simultaneously rooting around in my pocket. Their vehicle was faster than mine, and I got slammed again. Hard. My car veered and I struggled for control. The timing was shit. I’d just latched onto the shield charm, and it flew out of my hand, landing somewhere on the passenger’s seat.
Grass and weeds tugged at my tires and ground my car to a halt. I was pitched to the side, half my car leaning down into the side ditch while the driver’s side was still clinging to the road. My neck hurt from whiplash and my chest ached from where the seatbelt dug in. With my head ringing and my heart hammering, I tried to get my bearings. Thankfully, the airbags hadn’t deployed. In the distance, I heard a car door slam, and I struggled to wiggle around enough to see what was going on. Had another driver stopped to check on me? Was I lucky enough that the police were nearby?
The all-black-clad body with an equally dark mask and hoodie pulled up over their head negated all those positive thoughts.
“Shit.” My seat belt loosened and I dove sideways, plastering myself into the passenger’s seat just as a bullet shattered the driver’s side window. I wouldn’t get lucky a second time. My fingers scrambled and I felt the unique texture of Pops’s shield charm, activating it just as the sound of the gun pierced my ears again. The shield charm flared to life and when I looked to my left, I saw the tip of a bullet poking through the shield, its business end on my side of the shield, the trajectory clear. The damn thing was aimed right at me. This one wouldn’t have missed.
Several more rounds exploded outside as the person unloaded their gun on my car. The shield absorbed all of them. All I could see of my attacker were their eyes, now large and round with disbelief, narrowing into hatred and anger. With a strangled cry of frustration, they took off running back to their vehicle when the sound of sirens sounded in the distance. Gaia bless whoever had called the police.
I watched the damaged SUV fly past me, zipping down the road. I tried to see their license plate number but only caught the first letter—S on a Louisiana plate.
Heart still beating a mile a minute, my phone rang. Pops’s ringtone lighting up the interior of my damaged car. He’d been alerted the minute I activated the charm. While it was two hours earlier in California, Pops immediately responded.
Scrambling for my phone, I answered, “Hey, Pops.”
“Erasmus, are you—”
“I’m fine. Thanks to you.” Again , I silently thought.
“What happened?” Any sleepiness fled Pops’s tone. He was all worried business.
My laughter sounded hysterical, even to my own ears. “I don’t know why, but people keep shooting at me. I have to be doing something wrong,” I joked, my humor falling flat. “Or maybe it’s my car. Then again, I’ve been in a different one every time someone’s taken a shot at me. Looks like this time, my car took the unlucky hit.”
Pops’s breathing rattled across the phone line. “Is Franklin with you?”
“He’s at work. I was on my way to a job and… I’m really not sure what.” Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, my body was starting to crash. My head and neck hurt so I activated one of Pops’s pain charms and felt instant relief. By now, lights were flashing all around me. Cops were getting out of their vehicles and faces I didn’t know were peering in at me. “Pops, the police are here. I need to go.”
“Erasmus, I—”
“Can you do me a favor and call Franklin? Let him know I’m on I-10 and just crossed into Louisiana.”
“Consider it done. You will call me later.”
“Consider it done,” I echoed Pops’s earlier words.
“I love you.”
“Love you too, Pops.”
I ended the call and stared at the faces surrounding me. They’d already tried to open the door, but due to the shield charm, that wasn’t possible. They’d also tried reaching inside the window and again, that was a no-go. Now they were poking at the bullets seemingly hanging in midair.
I waved at them and gave a thumbs-up, hoping that would convey I was okay. Not even air could get through a shield charm. Voices didn’t carry either. With a heavy sigh, I leaned back in my seat, shards of glass sliding off my jacket fabric, falling to the seat and the floor. It was going to be a long day.
“ I still think you should get checked out at the hospital.” Detective Emmanuel Cardoza hovered over me, a large mug of coffee in one hand and his other fisted against his hip, pulling back his jacket and exposing his firearm. Detective Cardoza appeared to be of Hispanic descent and had medium brown skin, dark eyes, and a thick head of black hair. He was a decently attractive man. A few inches taller than myself and far broader, Detective Cardoza was someone who managed an odd mix of congeniality and don’t fuck with me attitude. It was a difficult combination to pull off and yet he wore it very well.
“I’m fine,” I said for the fourth, maybe fifth time. Honestly, I wasn’t completely sure that was true. I currently felt fine, but that was probably due to Pops’s pain charm. I’d evaluate myself better when it wore off and make a decision from there. I’d had a few minor cuts on my face and neck from the broken glass that fell on me, but other than that, I wasn’t bleeding anywhere else. I figured there would be one hell of a bruise along my chest later from the seatbelt but considering it had stopped my head from bashing into the steering wheel, I’d take the bruise.
Detective Cardoza grunted before sitting down. His chair was enviably large and on massive rollers that allowed him to easily navigate the area around his desk.
“We’ll see if Detective O’Hare can talk anymore sense into you when he gets here.”
Franklin was on his way. I couldn’t talk him out of it and honestly, I hadn’t given that effort a lot of energy. Selfishly, I wanted Franklin here. He was probably about thirty minutes out.
“Did you get my car towed?” I asked after taking a sip of soda. I’d already gone through a vending machine package of peanut M&M’s.
“I did, but not to a garage. Sorry, Necromancer Boone, but I’m afraid your vehicle will need to be kept as evidence. I’m not certain when we’ll be able to get it back to you.
I slumped. That wasn’t great. It was the only vehicle I had, and I needed transportation to get around. I couldn’t rely on Momma or Franklin to cart my ass all over the place. I’d need to contact my insurance company and see what could be done. My sigh was long and deep when I considered that. I hated dealing with that kind of shit.
Today certainly wasn’t turning out like I expected. I’d already sent a text to Janet Meeker, apologizing but letting her know I wouldn’t be able to make it today. Surprisingly, she was very understanding and told me not to worry about it and we could reschedule.
“We’re still searching for the vehicle that ran you off the road,” Detective Cardoza said as he punched a few buttons on his keyboard.
“And the driver that shot at me.”
“That too. Have you been able to remember any more details about the vehicle?” Detective Cardoza was very patient. His demeanor didn’t read as uncaring, simply carefully polite.
“I’m sorry, but no. All I remember was that it was big, black SUV, and it had a Louisiana plate that started with S. That’s all I’ve got,” I finished with a shrug.
“And you have no idea who might want to hurt you?”
I scoffed. “That list might be a little…lengthy.” I rubbed the back of my neck and felt my cheeks flush. “I’m a necromancer.”
“I’m aware,” Detective Cardoza answered, tone flat.
“Yeah, well, that doesn’t typically gain me a lot of friends. I’m fortunate to be able to use my necromancer abilities to support my life and make a living, but those I bring back don’t always tell their loved ones what they want to hear. That’s not my fault, but considering the other party is already deceased, then I’m often the one their anger gets taken out on.”
“I see.” Detective Cardoza scribbled a note on a small pad of paper. “Anyone recently?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Let’s see, maybe Titus McMahon.”
Detective Cardoza arched an eyebrow. “He’s supposedly dead.”
I shrugged. “I can’t say for certain he’s not. All I can tell you is that the remains buried under his name don’t belong to Mr. McMahon.” Maybe the guy really was dead. Without his body, I couldn’t be certain.
Leaning back in his chair, Detective Cardoza folded his hands over his abdomen. His dark brown eyes were clear and sharp and gazed at me with interest. “You seem very certain of that.”
“Oh, I’m sure.”
Cardoza’s pinky tapped along his shirt. “I find that very interesting, and potentially useful.”
“What can I say, it’s who I am.” I grinned, trying to lighten the mood.
“You are not what I expected, Necromancer Boone.”
“You’re not the first to say so.”
“No, I can easily see that.” A smirk played along Detective Cardoza’s lips. “I’m glad the person who was after you today didn’t succeed.”
Considering a lot of folks thought the only good necromancer was a dead one, I found Detective Cardoza’s words down right touching. “Thank you. Unsurprisingly, I’m glad too.”
The detective started to say something else, but his attention was grabbed by raised voices in an adjacent hall. I recognized Franklin’s worried bluster right away.
“I will not wait. Where’s Boone?” Franklin’s deep tone couldn’t compete with Pops’s, but it was no less intimidating, especially when he was upset.
Standing, I turned toward Franklin’s voice, the sound of bodies hustling down the hall filling the air. I started to walk toward the hall when Franklin’s hurried footsteps beat me to it. My man turned the corner, his worried eyes and pinched lips tugging at my heartstrings. The relief flooding his face and easing his muscles made those same heartstrings sing.
“Thank God,” Franklin said while rushing toward me. His entourage stopped just inside the doorframe. I’m not sure if Detective Cardoza called them off or not. All I had eyes for was Franklin.
Franklin’s eyes darted up and down my body before he enveloped me in his arms, pulling me tight to his body. “I was so fucking worried.”
“I’m okay,” I attempted to placate.
Franklin acted like he hadn’t heard me. Pushing me out to arm’s length, his distraught eyes darted all over my body, settling on the nicks and scratches from the shattered driver’s side window. Franklin’s hand quivered as he ran a finger over one of the marks. While always pale, Franklin’s pallor had drifted into an unhealthy zone.
“Hey,” I whispered, going up on tiptoes and pulling his face toward me, focusing his eyes on mine instead of my wounds. “Look at me. I’m okay. Honest.” The honest bit was pushing it. I wasn’t certain if I was physically well and wouldn’t until Pops’s pain charm wore off. Mentally I was currently more pissed than frightened. I wasn’t certain if that emotion would hold sway much longer. Being shot at and nearly killed played havoc with your emotions. Considering this was my third time experiencing it, I was familiar with the process.
“Detective Franklin O’Hare I presume?” Detective Cardoza asked.
“I am,” Franklin answered, his attention still focused on me.
Detective Cardoza took that moment to say, “I recommended he go to the hospital to be checked out, but Necromancer Boone has stubbornly refused.”
The barest hint of a smile ghosted across Franklin’s ashen skin. “That’s my Boone.”
Placing my hands on his cheeks, I pulled Franklin’s head down and rested our foreheads together. “I am that,” I happily agreed.
This time, when Franklin hugged me, it was softer and not nearly as desperate. His worried words tickled my ear as he said, “I was sick with worry. When your father called me, I… Shit, Boone. I don’t even know what I was. I’m not even sure if I told Captain Cicely where I was going. I just got up and ran out of the building, hopped in my SUV, and drove as fast as I could. Hell, I don’t even remember the trip here.”
I stroked Franklin’s back, doing my best to reassure him I was whole and well. “I’m sorry. I should have called you myself. Pops knew the instant I activated the shield charm. He called, and then the police were there, and I—”
“It’s okay. I’m glad you asked him to call.” Inhaling deeply, Franklin exhaled that breath before releasing me again. This time he kept an arm around my shoulders, turning me to face Detective Cardoza. “Please tell me you got the fucker that did this.”
“I wish I could. While this isn’t my typical jurisdiction, Given the fact Necromancer Boone was assaulted on his way to see me, I requested, and have been granted his case. We released a BOLO as soon as I got word but I’m afraid a large, black, SUV with Louisiana plates isn’t terribly specific.” Cardoza inclined his head my way before adding, “Not that I’m judging. I’d be suspicious if you could be more specific, Necromancer Boone.”
I huffed, disappointed in myself despite Detective Cardoza’s words. “If the shield charm hadn’t been activated, I could have thrown one of Pops’s tracker charms on the SUV as it drove by. He made them extra sticky. I would have just needed to get it in close proximity, and it would have stuck like glue.”
“I’m not sorry,” Franklin said. “That shield charm saved your life. Again. Remind me to send a thank-you card to Warlock Holland. Hell, maybe a complete fruit basket. Does he like fruit?” Franklin sounded so damn cute when he asked if Pops liked fruit.
“He does. I’ll get you a list of what he likes later.” I reached up and pecked Franklin on the cheek, glad to see a little color returning to his skin.
Cardoza crossed his arms over his chest. “As much damage as Necromancer Boone’s car took, I have to believe this SUV that hit him didn’t come away from the encounter unscathed. I’ll put a call out to local repair shops. Maybe our perp will be an idiot and we’ll get lucky.”
I wasn’t about to hold my breath on that one but agreed nonetheless.
Franklin’s fingers rubbed my shoulder, his hand in constant movement. He wasn’t about to let me go and I was okay with that. “Do we have any leads at all?” Franklin asked. I wasn’t sure if he was speaking to Cardoza or me.
Detective Cardoza motioned to a couple of chairs, one of which I’d previously occupied before Franklin walked in. We sat, but Franklin scooted his chair close enough that he could grasp and hold my hand. “I was just asking Necromancer Boone if he could think of anyone that might want to harm him. I gather that list might be longer than any of us would like.” Cardoza raised a single eyebrow as his gaze darted between me and Franklin.
Franklin scoffed. “You could say that. Keeping Boone safe is a 24/7 endeavor.”
“I do not envy your task, Detective O’Hare,” Cardoza said. I thought I caught a hint of humor but wasn’t certain.
“That it is, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Well, I’d certainly trade him constantly being in danger, but not the fact that I’m the one attempting to keep the wolves at bay,” Franklin answered, earning his hand a squeeze from me.
“It’s not that bad,” I huffed.
Franklin’s eyes widened and his eyebrows met his hairline. “ Not that bad? ”
I squirmed. “Well, it’s not my fault,” I corrected.
“Now that I can agree with,” Franklin answered. “Mostly.”
“Hey, I—”
Detective Cardoza cleared his throat, drawing my attention. “As you were saying earlier, the Titus McMahon case could be behind this. Assuming the man is still alive. I’m afraid it’s not a secret that you’re a consultant on the case. Both families have been notified, my boss and probably all of this precinct is aware, and I have no idea how many others at Pablo Jimenez’s insurance company are aware. Unfortunately, that’s a long list of possibilities.”
Franklin groaned while sliding down into his chair. “Just once, I’d like to have an exact, quick name regarding your attacker.”
My grin was wide when I answered, “Where would the fun be in that?”
Franklin only groaned louder.