Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Kit
ONCE WHEN TED WAS THREE AND I was seven, he’d woken from a nightmare so terrifying that he was shaking all over and sweating.
We shared a small room upstairs, narrow beds fitted on either side of a chest of drawers.
His frightened pleas for our mother squeezed hotly in my throat. She couldn’t help him anymore.
“Come on,” I said very quietly in the dark, afraid to wake our father across the hall, as I lifted the corner of my blankets for him.
He crept silently across the room and cuddled close, hot tears soaking my shirt.
So softly, it was a whisper, I hummed the melody of the song she’d sung us to sleep with every night.
The same one I dreamt of last night, the happy end where the fae falls in love with the human playing out in my mind, comforting us both.
As Ted’s breaths evened out, I’d pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
“Don’t worry. I'll take care of you, Teddy. It's my job now.”
I’d meant it with all my heart, but somewhere along the way, I’d selfishly rejected that responsibility and given into the wounded impulse to flee. What type of person left his thirteen-year-old brother behind with a temperamental, drunken, absent father and no one else to look after him?
I should have been here.
Blinking as footsteps tramped overhead, I realized Joudrey had gone to photograph the damage upstairs. A couple of muted voices floated from beyond the open front door. Curiosity got the better of me. Creeping along the hall, I tried not to step on any papers and listened in.
Constable Corbin was saying, “A mess, I'll give you that, but no one’s copping to anything unusual in the neighbourhood so far. The blood and a bit of crushed-in wall could be totally unrelated. It’s not enough to prove anyone died.
Then again, the destruction in there could be a cover for manslaughter—or even murder.
Are Ted and Mary-Alice missing, or did he do her in, and now he’s on the run?
We won’t know unless we get a lead we can work with or if our detachment’s mage has time to do a tracking spell.
And that’s if there’s nothing to interfere with the spell. ”
Outrage crashed through me, and I bit down on my cheek to keep from leaping to Ted’s defense. He couldn’t kill someone he loved. He was one of the gentlest souls I knew. It was why I’d been so glad he was in a critical role with the power company and couldn’t enlist.
“It’s still early. You'll talk to their friends? Her family? See if anything stands out?”
A second wave of anger surged. Gus hadn’t spoken up for Ted. How could he let that go unchallenged?
“Of course,” Corbin replied. “But the thing is, Mary-Alice’s folks… they’re known to us. Mages who like law enforcement about as well as we like them. I'm not sure how receptive her friends will be to our inquiries either.”
Was that supposed to mean her parents were criminals? Just who had Ted gone and married?
“Phone and let me know what you find?” Gus asked, voice doing something I didn’t like directed at Corbin.
“It’s an active investigation, I really shouldn’t…”
“They’re friends, Fred, and if there’s anything I can do to help, you know I will. I’ve been useful before.”
Gus’ coaxing tone worked because Corbin let out a soft sigh. “Yeah, you have. All—”
At footsteps heading down behind me, my pulse jumped, and I hurriedly strode outside before I got caught skulking. Both men looked up at me from the bottom step as I exited the house. They were standing awfully close.
“Needed some air,” I explained, then felt a flash of irritation that I should have to give them a reason to go outdoors.
Corbin nodded while Gus studied my face much too intently. My cheeks went hot.
“Of course. You’re under no obligation to stay in there,” Corbin said, sympathetically. “If you’d like to go for a walk or sit next door with Mrs. North instead, you’re more than welcome to. We shouldn’t be much longer.”
How could he say they wouldn’t be much longer?
What had they done aside from taking some photographs and chatting with the few neighbours who were home from church?
Whatever I expected them to do, suddenly, desperately, it was obvious they never would.
If they bothered to search for Ted and Mary-Alice at all, it would be cursory and with the assumption Ted was guilty of murder.
Words failed me as my gut lurched. I gave a rigid nod and squeezed past them. Instead of heading for Tillie’s I walked in the opposite direction, thoughts spinning wildly.
What was I supposed to do? What could I do? I was a journalist—a correspondent—who relied on developing contacts and sources in the area I reported from. I’d never done that in Halifax; I hadn’t set foot here in over ten years. I didn’t have the time to form an information network.
Waiting patiently for the results of a lackluster investigation was intolerable. My brother was missing and who really cared other than me and possibly Tillie? Who would care if he never came back? Did he have any friends who would have reported him missing if I hadn’t come? Did Mary-Alice?
Ted had always been timid, but good-natured and kind enough that people were drawn to him anyway. Someone had to know something, surely?
I wasn’t equipped for this. I didn’t know who to turn to. I didn’t—
A restraining hand on my shoulder stopped me and pulled me around.
Gus.
“Kit, stop. Where do you think you’re going?”
Gus was a gumshoe and a talented mage. Tillie had proudly written about his triumphs in her letters. He tracked down missing people all the time. He’d learned his trade from Russell Flanigan, who made the papers regularly.
And… oh hell.
Everything in me recoiled at the idea forming in my mind. “I…”
I needed to hire August North.
His emotionless dark eyes remained locked on mine as he waited for me to continue. How was I going to ask him? Would he agree? Or would he disappoint me again?
That wasn’t fair. Regardless of what happened between us, Gus helped people when they needed him, and he always tried to do the right thing. I might not be able to trust him with my heart, but I could trust him to help me find Ted.
“You had a hell of a shock,” he said, when I still didn’t speak. “You can’t just wander off. Someone should look after you.” My unintelligent, painfully contrarian heart hitched. “You know Mum’s waiting in the wings to swoop in and do it.”
And then sank like a lead weight. Shaking my head, I shrugged out of his grip. “I’m a grown man, August. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it most of my life.”
“This is different.”
“Is it?” I discarded the rest of the angry response I wanted to give. Losing my temper wasn’t going to get him to work for me. “Maybe you’re right. I do need help.”
Relief relaxed his shoulders. “Okay, let’s get you back to—”
Rolling my eyes, I crossed my arms and huffed, “Not like that. I need your help, Gus. I want to hire you.”
His head cocked, and the mist clinging to his skin caught in the sun as it poked through the clouds. “Uh. What?”
“You are still a PI, aren’t you? And you locate missing people. Well, Ted and Mary-Alice are missing. I need someone to find them.”
“The Mounties—”
“Are more interested in assuming Ted’s guilty of a crime than that he’s a victim of one.
I heard what Constable Corbin said. Do you really think they’ll put any resources into this when they’ve got their hands full with the powder keg of civilians and servicemen in tight quarters here?
Because I don’t, and I can’t—Gus, I can’t lose Ted.
Not if there’s any hope. Think about how you’d feel if it was—” I broke off in horror, too late for my rushed words not to land like knives.
His gaze went darker, hurt seeping into his eyes. He didn’t lash out, but it hit me in the gut as strongly as if he had. We both stood silent. My tongue was too thick in my mouth, the need to apologize clawing at me.
“Okay, Kit,” he said with hollow resignation. “You want to hire me? Fine. I'll take the case. But I can’t make any promises.”
Already nodding, I locked my knees as they went weak. Even if he was reluctant, Gus was going to help. It felt like a lifeline.
“But if we’re doing this, we do it my way,” he continued. “You answer my questions, and you don’t give me any bullshit. You can the attitude.”
“I will.” Gus lifted an eyebrow and deep down in the pit of my stomach a laugh started. I killed it before it snuck out. “I swear.”
With a huff, Gus turned back the way we’d come. “Let’s go, then.”
He led me straight to a car in Tillie’s driveway, a shiny black Buick, probably a ’39. It was in good condition, though the tires looked worn. “Where are we going?”
“My house. It’s quiet, and I can interview you without Mum muscling her way in. I don’t want her caught up in this. After we’re done, I’ll drop you off at Mum’s for the night. She’d be thrilled to have you stay with her again.”
“I can’t. I need to clean up. When we find Ted and Mary-Alice, I don’t want them to come home to that disaster.”
Gus slid a hand through his hair, messing it up, then smoothing it down again. “Fine. I’ll help,” he offered, gruffly.
Why? I wanted to ask. Seeming to read my silent confusion, he added, “It might be a good idea to look for any clues they missed. Now, I’m not saying they did miss anything, but I like to be thorough. And I’ll need some things for a tracking spell.”