Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
Franklin
“You wanna repeat that?” I ran my hand over my head, barely ruffling my short hair. Did I really want to hear the story again? Probably not. Did I need to hear it again? Definitely.
Boone squirmed, but I didn’t think it was from discomfort. He was near-giddy and had energy to burn. I wasn’t sure if he was still hopped up on adrenaline or if there was a little something extra in the soda he’d had.
“Which part?” he asked, looking innocent as he cocked his head to the side.
I inhaled, counted to nine, and attempted to release my worries as I exhaled. “Does your father’s charm permanently change the color of your car?” That had been an interesting bit of information. Those types of charms were illegal. They sounded innocuous enough, but what Boone just recounted proved was why they were a problem. Vehicles were registered with the DMV, and part of that registration was color. Randomly changing a car’s color wreaked havoc with law enforcement and often achieved the exact results Boone’s little charade had accomplished. When you were trying to ditch the bad guys, that was great. Unfortunately, it was typically the police getting the shaft.
Boone shook his head, hair flopping across his forehead. “No, it just makes it look different. The effect lasts thirty-six hours.” He shrugged. “Unless I activate the charm again and change it back, or to something else.” Boone grinned. “I had a hell of a good time doing that when I was younger.”
“You do realize those kinds of charms are illegal, right?” I didn’t have to try very hard to sound stern. I wasn’t upset with Boone. I was upset that he’d been in that situation at all.
“They’re illegal to sell,” Boone said with a mischievous grin. “I paid for nothing.”
“Christ.” I scrubbed my face with my palm again. “I don’t think the authorities would view it that way.”
“I only care what one authority figure thinks.” There was something wickedly salacious in the way Boone said that.
Shifting, I felt my dick thicken and dashed its interest with visions of Boone’s car mangled on the interstate. Yeah, that extinguished the fire pretty quickly.
Scooting to the edge of his chair, Boone’s knees bumped mine. I didn’t pull away. Truth be told, it was all I could do not to pull him into my arms the moment he walked through the door. That phone call had been torture. I don’t think Boone realized how serious I had been. I could track his phone. I could find him. I would do both.
“Did you trace the plate?” he asked eagerly. “I know I got the numbers right and it was an Alabama plate.”
I hated to burst his bubble, but my next words did exactly that. “That plate was reported stolen three weeks ago.”
Boone’s body deflated like a punctured Macy’s Day Parade balloon. “Are you sure it was really stolen?” he asked, that last little bit of hopeful air seeping away.
“95 percent sure.” Honestly, I was closer to 100 percent. The person the plate originally belonged to was a middle class, single mother of four. A woman with that kind of life didn’t have time to go joyriding on the interstate.
“Damn.” Boone flopped back into his chair. He was so physically slight the chair sort of swallowed him whole. Boone appeared far too breakable for my comfort. “I really thought I had something there.”
“I know, and I’m sorry it’s not more helpful. What is helpful is that a stolen plate confirms whoever was following you was probably up to no good.” That didn’t soothe my soul, but it lent credence to Boone’s observations. Someone had most likely been following him. The question was, to what end?
“Did they try and run you off the road? Act aggressive in any way?”
Boone shook his head. “No. They got close a few times—close enough to make me nervous—but they didn’t try anything.”
I drummed my fingers along the desktop. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad nothing happened. It just isn’t all that helpful.”
Boone blew out a breath that ruffled his bangs. “Tell me about it. It could be anybody. Maybe it was someone at the mortuary that didn’t like what I had to say. For that matter, it could have been any number of disgruntled former clients. Not everyone likes what I tell them.”
I contemplated that and shook my head. “I doubt it was anyone you met today. The plate was reported stolen weeks ago, so that doesn’t fit. Besides, I doubt anyone would go to that level of subterfuge.”
Boone’s gaze connected with mine. “I can think of one previous client.”
“Fucking hell. Bartholomew Livingston.”
“Good ol’ Bart. Jackass.” Boone pushed his hair away from his face. “You think it was him and his goon squad that tried to break into my house the other day?”
I thought it more than possible. “I think Mr. Livingston is doing a fine job of remaining my number one suspect.”
Boone barked out a laugh before settling. When he did, his posture was more relaxed. “If it was him, I’m not sure what he hoped to accomplish by following me today.”
I wasn’t certain either, but I didn’t like the implications. “You can learn a lot from following someone. You can learn their habits, their typical routes, when they’re alone, when they’re the most vulnerable… I think you get my point.”
With a curt nod, Boone answered, “I believe so. I can’t say I like your point, but I get it.”
I didn’t win a lot of congeniality contests. In my profession, one couldn’t afford to simply be nice and tell someone what they wanted to hear. Honesty was my bread and butter. It had to be.
There was another possibility, one that scared me more than Livingston’s involvement. Swallowing hard, I didn’t want to utter my next words, but honesty compelled me to. Besides, keeping Boone in the dark wasn’t conducive to keeping him safe.
“It could be our killer.”
Boone’s body stilled. “Why do you think that?”
“I’m not certain I do. It’s only a possibility. Your father’s right to be concerned. Maybe you’re not on the serial killer’s radar. Maybe they have no idea you’re involved. I pray that’s the case, but I can’t rely on prayer alone.” I’d been raised with the belief that God helped those who helped themselves. It was a mantra I lived by.
Boone’s foot tapped nervously. His fingers twisted within his t-shirt, knotting the fabric. “I’m not sure what to do with that.”
As much as I hated to suggest it, I said, “Maybe you should take that trip to Cali.”
Boone’s head snapped up and his wide eyes narrowed viciously. “I’m not cutting and running.”
Pride. It was a damnable thing. It was also dangerous. “I don’t think anyone would consider it that.”
Boone’s head tilted to the side. A flash of something close to pain made his green eyes flare momentarily. “Are you trying to get rid of me?” A well of insecurity flooded those brief words.
“Get rid of you?” I shook my head vehemently. “Never. God, Boone. Getting rid of you is the very last thing I want to do. What I do want to do is keep you safe—and quite frankly, right now, I have no idea how to do that.” It hurt to say. It hurt a lot.
Tension eased from Boone’s shoulders, rounding them and softening his posture. “Okay. Sorry. I jumped to conclusions.”
“You did.” I wasn’t sure I could hold it against him though. Not many could see past Boone’s species. As far as I was concerned, it was their damn loss and my impossible gain.
“Sorry,” Boone apologized.
“It’s okay.” I wasn’t certain that was true, but it was good enough for now. “I don’t suppose Aurelia showed up during your latest adventure?”
“Nope. She was MIA. I don’t think she has any kind of link with me. I mean, there’s no bat signal that magically goes out to her when someone is fucking with me. She just happened to be at the house when those assholes were trying to break in. It’s totally random.”
I frowned while I considered Boone’s words. “Does it have to be?”
“Does it have to be what?”
“Random. Is there a way you could contact Aurelia and let her know you’re in trouble?” This conversation had just gone into surreal mode. Was I really about to ask Boone if he could ask the nice djinn to have his back? Yeah, it looked that way.
Boone’s face scrunched. “I’m not sure she’d come.”
That wasn’t a no. “But you could contact her?”
He shrugged. “I don’t see why not. I could ask Pops to make a charm. If Aurelia wanted, she could hang on to one part of it while I had the other. As long as I was physically capable of activating it, she’d get the message. She wouldn’t know what was wrong, just that something was up. But like I said, I don’t know that Aurelia would come riding in on her white horse.” Boone scratched his cheek. “She’s a bit unpredictable.”
I considered that and asked what I already knew. “Do you know her master?” I hated the word, but that’s what Aurelia herself called it.
Boone appeared wary. “I do.”
I was going out on a very shaky, morally uncomfortable limb. “Could you ask them to wish for Aurelia to—”
“I could and I won’t.” Boone shut me down fast. “Even if I did ask, I don’t think he’d do it, and I’d never ask. I won’t do that to Aurelia. What was done to her when she was created was horrific enough, and no one should have that kind of power over another. I want to give you peace of mind, Franklin, but I can’t do it that way. Please don’t ask that of me.”
I leaned forward, elbows planted on my knees, and reached for Boone’s hands. He laced his fingers with mine.
“Sorry. I didn’t want to ask, and you’re right, it was wrong to do so.” I felt like the shit on the bottom of someone’s shoe. It was scary how easy it was to fall into horrific mindsets when you were frightened of losing the ones you cared for.
“It’s okay. I get it. If the situation were reversed, or if it were Momma who was in trouble, I’d have the same thought.”
I wasn’t convinced. Contrary to what others thought, Boone was a far better individual than 99 percent of the population. That’s probably why Aurelia had willingly chosen to keep him safe on numerous occasions. I could only hope that she continued feeling that way.
“Okay, so we don’t ask Aurelia’s master to command her, but maybe you could ask if she’d be willing to wear one of those communication charms you were talking about.” I wasn’t certain that’s what it was called but went with the description that seemed best.
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to ask. All she can do is tell me no or disappear. If she blinks away, I guess I’ll have her answer.”
I thought Aurelia was capable of doing a hell of a lot more than disappearing or telling Boone no. It was a calculated risk. Right now, those numbers fell on the side of asking.
Boone’s fingers squeezed mine. “I’m really bummed that plate number didn’t lead anywhere. I went to a lot of effort to get it.”
I knew what that felt like and said, “I get it. I—”
“Am I interrupting, Detective O’Hare?”
My eyes snapped up. I hadn’t heard or seen Dr. McCallister approach. The man was quiet as a damn ghost. Boone tugged his fingers, but I didn’t release them. I doubled down as McCallister’s gaze focused on our locked digits. Intrigue and disgust colored his eyes and pinched his lips.
Clearing my throat, I said, “Is there something I can do for you, Doc?”
McCallister held out a manila envelope. “No. Seeking to avoid a repeat of your earlier visits, I decided to hand-deliver my autopsy results on Mr. Linus Remington.”
My eyebrows shot heavenward. “You could have e-mailed it.” I didn’t open the report. Instead, I laid it on my desk. McCallister didn’t leave after delivering his report, and I had no idea why. In fact, he shifted his position so he could get a better view of Boone.
This time, when Boone pulled back, I released his fingers. “Something I can help you with?” he asked, voice carefully neutral.
McCallister’s finger poked between his eyes, pushing up nonexistent glasses. It was a habit he couldn’t seem to shake. Scowling at his wayward finger, McCallister shoved both hands into his lab coat’s deep pockets.
Leaning forward, McCallister sniffed subtly before pulling back. His nose scrunched and he viciously rubbed his finger under it. Boone lifted an eyebrow as he gave me a WTF look. Honestly, I had nothing and shook my head.
Stepping away, McCallister kept his hand close to his nose, as if he smelled something foul and was attempting to keep the stench at bay. Voice muffled, he finally said, “I was unaware a necromancer worked so closely with the homicide department.”
I wasn’t sure if there was a question in there or not. Boone acted like there was and said, “Seems like a good fit.”
McCallister hadn’t been the primary coroner when Boone attempted to bring the Jane Doe’s soul back. Searching my memory, I wasn’t sure if Boone had been present much when McCallister was on the job.
“Indeed.” Head cocked to the side, McCallister kept his hand in front of his nose as he said, “It is not something I had considered.”
Neither one of us had time to answer, not that I really knew what words to throw at the man. Seemingly done, McCallister turned and walked across the room, headed for the exit. Ever so slowly, Boone said, “Okay?”
Again, I had a whole lot of nothing and answered, “No idea.” Necromancers weren’t plentiful, and those of Boone’s caliber were even rarer. I wasn’t necessarily surprised that McCallister hadn’t considered our department had one on retainer.
Shaking off the odd interaction, I reached for the envelope and sliced through the seal. Perusing the form didn’t take long. With a disgruntled huff, I threw the thing back down on my desk.
“Let me guess, heart failure?” Boone asked.
“Got it in one.”
“Sorry, Franklin.”
Boone didn’t have anything to be sorry about. Regardless, I appreciated the sentiment and answered, “So am I.”