Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
Erasmus
Wednesday or Thursday will work perfect for me. I appreciate your time. Janet Meeker’s tone had certainly softened. She’d been very understanding when I had to cancel our meeting when I was run off the road and shot at. She was being even more so now. While I hadn’t elaborated why I’d had to cancel the last time, I’d indicated it was something serious. Her agreeability was refreshing. Maybe stress had made her more demanding before. I knew well enough that heavy emotions could make others snippier than typical.
I checked the time. Franklin texted about ten minutes ago, letting me know he was on his way home. The oven was finished preheating and I stuck the frozen chicken fingers and tater tots in the oven about two minutes ago. It wasn’t exactly the dinner of champions, but it was easy and something both Franklin and I liked well enough. Fancy food was wasted on us.
The decorative lights in the kitchen cast a warm glow. Turning off the overhead lights made the atmosphere even more magical. Momma and I’d gone a little overboard this year and I didn’t relish the idea of taking them all down, but right now, they were lovely. I’d need to remember this feeling when it was time to put them away.
I turned to check the timer on our food when a chill raced down my spine. I stilled, body unmoving with the distinct impression I wasn’t alone. My fear was quickly replaced by irritation, and I said, “Aurelia, is that you? I swear to Gaia, if you’re just hanging around and not showing yourself…” I wasn’t really certain where to go with that empty threat. While I was the only one who could truly harm Aurelia, she’d have to do something a lot more heinous than creeping around my home for me to do so.
Eerie quiet met my verbal tantrum. Hands on hips, I spun around the kitchen, my eyes darting to every darkened corner, as if I just concentrated hard enough then I’d be able to make out her shady form.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. With a huff, I placed my fisted hands on my hips. “You know, this isn’t polite. In fact, it’s considered extremely rude. Besides, if you’re here, I’d like to see and speak with you. For reasons I can’t fathom, I like seeing you.” I’d meant the words as encouragement and was surprised when I realized just how much I meant them. “Huh,” I muttered to the seemingly empty room.
Franklin’s headlights flashed through the kitchen window, and I heard the faint sound of his tires crunch against the gravel driveway. Franklin’s heavy footfalls sounded along the wooden porch before his key found its way to the front door. If I hadn’t been so mentally preoccupied, I would have met him at the door.
“Hey, baby. Where are you?” Franklin asked as he came through the door.
“Kitchen,” I answered, voice raised just enough for Franklin to hear.
Franklin inhaled deeply as he walked into the kitchen. “Is that nuggets I smell?”
“And tots.”
“Sounds good to me.” Walking deeper into the kitchen, Franklin took off his office jacket and loosened his tie before leaning down to give me a kiss. His hands wound around my waist, pulling me in closer. “How are you feeling today?” Franklin asked as he leaned away.
“All healed.” I mentally sighed and thought, Maybe a little too healed . All of Franklin’s love bites were gone and my ass held no memory of the plundering it had taken last night. It was a little disappointing but maybe I could get a repeat performance soon.
Franklin grinned. “Best news I’ve heard all day.”
A spike of unease whispered through my brain. “Did Captain Cicely say no?”
Franklin’s eyes squinted in confusion. “No to what? I… Oh no, not at all.” Franklin stepped farther away and began rummaging through cabinets, pulling out glasses and plates. “Captain Cicely is A-okay with using precinct resources to help weed through the list. I’ve already spoken with Becks. Turns out, you and I’ve got some homework to do but we can get to that later.”
Relief flooded me. Leaning against the counter I blew out a deep breath. “That’s very kind of her.”
Franklin shrugged. “I won’t argue that, but I also think it’s smart.” Rubbing the back of his neck, Franklin tilted his head enough that I heard the pop of his joints. There was something else going on, something that made him stay later at work and had his shoulders practically pulled up to his ears with tension.
“What is it?” Franklin couldn’t always talk to me about what was going on at work. I got the feeling he could get away saying more to me because I was tangentially involved with police cases and procedure.
With a loud groan, Franklin leaned his palms on the counter. Head down, he said, “Do you remember the case I almost called you in on, the one where we didn’t know the ID of the body?”
“The young John Doe with a gunshot wound to the head,” I answered.
“That’s the one. Lucas Davies.” With a huff, Franklin turned so his ass now leaned against the counter, his arms crossed over his broad chest. “I met his younger brother today.” Scrubbing his hands over his face, when Franklin pulled them away, he appeared two parts furious and one part utterly exhausted. “Why are some people so damn predatory? Why can’t they just… Hell, I don’t know. I’m no psychologist, but the human brain is a fucked-up mess.”
The corner of my lips twitched. “Is that your professional evaluation?”
“Fuck, yes. It is today.” Franklin proceeded to tell me as much as he could about his latest encounter with a very young Billy Davies. Shoulders slumped, Franklin said, “I spoke with Captain Cicely and she’s agreed to put surveillance on the Davies’s home and Billy’s school. Officer James appeared confident regarding the sketches Billy helped her create. Assuming Billy’s memory is accurate, they should help, but there’s always a chance this Boggs asshole will send some other goons next time.”
“You think he’s got that many people on his payroll?”
“I think it’s very possible. I spoke with some of our other local detectives and they’ve heard the name before but can’t put a face with it. None of us know if Boggs is a first or last name, or just as probable, an alias. I put a call into the state police, narcotics division. Hopefully I’ll hear something back tomorrow. I have to think if this Boggs is a big player, then he’s on their radar.”
“And the other part, the probable prostitution of underaged boys and girls?” Gaia, I felt sick saying the words.
“A different department. I’ll head that direction if the drug trail goes cold. The impression I got from Billy was that his brother, Lucas, thought the underage issue was newer. Maybe too new to have much of a trail yet.”
“ Yet ,” I repeated, feeling the pit in my stomach grow.
“Yeah,” Franklin said on a sigh.
The timer on the oven went off and I retrieved our dinner. The scent of toasted tots and chicken strips filled the kitchen. I’d been a lot hungrier before Franklin related what happened at work. I stood there, staring at the food and felt my stomach cramp.
“Sorry,” Franklin whispered in my ear as he slipped his hands around my middle, squeezing me tight. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No.” I adamantly shook my head, my hair rustling and probably tangling against Franklin’s chest. “I’m glad you told me. I don’t want you keeping that kind of shit in your head where it can fester.”
“Yeah, but now it’s festering in your head too.”
“That’s okay. I can handle it. A problem shared is a problem halved.”
Franklin grunted. “I’m not sure that applies to this situation.”
“Maybe not, but I’m still glad you told me.” I twisted my head enough that Franklin could lean down and kiss me. While that didn’t exactly stimulate my appetite, it did erase at least a layer of filth lying across my soul.
Releasing me, Franklin grabbed a spatula and plated our food. Somewhere along the line, he’d already poured our drinks. We headed for the table, and despite the information I’d just learned, I still managed to pack away most of the food. The uneasy feeling of being watched from earlier was long gone. I could only assume that meant Aurelia had left, although I couldn’t be certain. Next time she showed herself, we were definitely going to have a conversation.
“I heard from Janet Meeker,” I said after finishing my meal. “She says Wednesday or Thursday should work out.”
“This week?”
I nodded. “I’d like to get this done sooner rather than later. I’ve got a client tomorrow, but it’s an easy retrieval.” I called recalling souls that sometimes. Retrieval sounded better than a lot of other words. “I’m not sure how that works with your schedule, especially considering what’s going on with Billy Davies.”
Franklin shook his head while swallowing his latest bite. “No, it’s fine, but Wednesday would definitely be better.”
“I’ll send Janet a text tonight. As a matter of fact, I’ll do it now.” I pulled out my phone and typed out a brief message before hitting the send button. “She’ll probably be happy. I know she really wants to get things settled with her granddaddy.” I don’t know why, but I always found that endearment cringeworthy.
“I’ll speak with the captain. I’m sure we can work it out.”
Franklin and I cleaned up dinner and moved to the living room. We seldom watched TV Not that the television wasn’t on, it was just muted or turned down very low. Typically, we had it on one of the home renovation channels. An older episode of Interspecies Habitat was on, and I cuddled into Franklin’s side. “Oh, this is a good one. It’s about a Yeti and phoenix shifter.”
“Christ, how in the hell does that work?” Franklin asked.
“Watch and see. Parsnip’s a genius.” I wasn’t sure if the pixie, Parsnip was really the mastermind behind the home renovations or not. He was the host and this episode was old enough that his hair was still shades of turquoise—lighter at the crown of his head and darkening as it lengthened. It was an illusion created by a charm. That piece of subterfuge had been revealed during an episode about Lucroy Moony and Peaches. Turns out, Parsnip had barely survived a long stint of ogre captivity. He’d almost faded completely. He’d survived, but his colors hadn’t. Parsnip’s hair, wings, and pixie dust were now varying shades of gray. He retained a few aqua strands of hair, just enough to show a hint of his previous colors. Parsnip was stunning no matter what his colors were.
Franklin tried to watch but he was too tired and soon his soft puffs of barely there snores tickled against the skin on my neck. Sexy times would need to wait. I didn’t mind. This was enough. More than enough.
Relaxing into the couch, I felt my eyelids droop. Franklin and I would make it into the bedroom sometime, but for now, I lay there, enjoying the warmth of his body connecting with mine.
A s expected, Janet Meeker was thrilled to meet on Wednesday. I already had the address, so our communication was brief. She’d wished me a much safer trip to Louisiana. Janet had added a winking emoji after those words that made my eyebrow arch. The winking emoji made lighter of my near-death encounter than I currently felt. Then again, she didn’t know what truly happened, only that something serious had occurred. Besides, people handled things like that differently. Maybe Janet’s default was making light of horrific events. I didn’t like to judge.
I was on my way back early from my job today. Elsa Fitzgibbon was an elderly (and very posh) woman who desperately wanted to know why her husband had left his beloved banjo to a middle-aged woman Elsa had never heard of or met before. That question had been haunting Elsa for the past three years. It was twisting her memories and causing her a lot of mental angst. She’d finally had enough and contacted me.
This was one of my easier and happier cases. Turns out, Mr. Bruce Fitzgibbon’s reasoning hadn’t been anything nefarious or salacious. While, yes, he had been a traveling salesman and had many opportunities to stray from his wife, Bruce had never done so. His love and devotion to Elsa sang through his soul, just as the devastation learning that he’d caused her pain had.
I’d lost count of the number of times Bruce apologized. Turns out, during one of his trips to New Orleans, he’d come across a woman whose haunting songs and touching lyrics had gripped his soul. He’d gone back to that small bar and sat and listened to her on numerous occasions. Time away from Elsa was always the worst part of Bruce’s job and spending time in that bar, listening to the woman sing, gave him ease. He’d left the banjo to her as a form of gratitude.
Elsa’s relieved tears dripped down her wrinkled cheeks, but her smile lit up the room. She’d apologized just as much for “being silly.” I didn’t think she was that silly but that was just my opinion.
In the end, bringing back Bruce Fitzgibbon’s soul had eased Elsa’s. She’d thanked me profusely and even offered a tip which I’d declined. While the gesture was nice, the pleasure I received from touching Bruce’s soul was more than enough.
I was in a good mood as I drove back home. And then my phone rang. The caller ID came up as unknown. I thought the area code looked familiar but couldn’t place it exactly. I accepted the call.
“This is Erasmus Boone.” If I thought it was a work-related call, I answered with my necromancer title.
“Necromancer Boone. It is good to hear your voice.”
I cringed as Tenzen Huxley’s smokey, jagged voice pricked at my skin. Clearing my throat, I hesitantly answered, “And, uh…yours too.” I mentally cringed at how insincere that sounded.
Tenzen’s laughter was like a living thing, filtering through my phone speaker and filling my rental car. “I appreciate the attempt at politeness.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“It is fine. I am hardly offended.”
Tenzen didn’t sound offended. Clearing my throat, I attempted to get this conversation back on more pleasant ground. “Thank you for convincing the Warlock Council to release the list of necromancer mother names.”
“You are very welcome. I trust you received the list without any inconvenience.”
I thought about complaining about how we’d gotten the list, or more precisely, who’d turned it over along with the very limited information on it, but kept those annoyances to myself. With Franklin, Captain Cicely, and Officer Becks’s help, we’d get through it. “I received everything fine.”
Tenzen hummed. “Well, that is good to hear. What wasn’t so good to hear was the close encounter you recently had within the state of Louisiana. I must admit, I was very distressed when I found out you were run off the road in an attempted assassination.” Tenzen’s congenial tone hardened.
I sucked in a harsh breath and swerved when I realized I was starting to drift into the middle lane. I definitely deserved the honk sent my way. I pulled into the nearest business parking lot and placed my rental in park.
“Erasmus, are you quite all right?” Tenzen asked when I’d been silent too long.
“Yes! I just… Our conversation was a bit too distracting and I was driving, so I pulled over. That took a minute.”
“Apologies. You should have informed me you were otherwise occupied and that it wasn’t a safe time for a discussion.” Tenzen’s words held more than a note of censure. “I am beginning to believe you do not understand your true worth and importance, Necromancer Boone. I find that most…distressing. I insist you take better care or I will be forced, for your own wellbeing and the wellbeing of the species I represent, to take matters of your safety into my own hands. Perhaps I should have another conversation with Detective O’Hare.”
My veins turned to ice and I shivered despite the heat pushing its way through the rental’s ventilation system. “It wasn’t Franklin’s fault.” It wasn’t anyone’s fault but the asshole who assaulted me. My fear was quickly replaced by anger. “And I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“Hmm, yes, well, I suppose that remains to be seen. Please do not hesitate to let me know should you require assistance, either in your quest to find your brethren or regarding your own safe keeping.”
“I—” I had absolutely no idea what to say.
“I’m afraid I’ve taken up too much of your valuable time. Please have a care, Necromancer Boone.” The call ended, leaving me chilled to the bone and shaking like a leaf. I could be overreacting, but I didn’t think so. I felt threatened.
“Fuck,” I cursed while tossing my phone into the passenger’s seat. “I never should have called Director Huxley for help.” But would that have mattered? In a way, he’d reached out to me first. You could argue that I’d asked Agent Frost to contact the Magical Usage Council on Navarre’s behalf, but I hadn’t asked for more. I hadn’t even truly considered more.
Resting my head on my steering wheel, I felt a heavy wave of exhaustion hit me. What in the hell was I supposed to do now?