Chapter 15 #2
Twisting my hair into a messy bun on the top of my head, I watch the coffee brewing, and get a cup poured by the time Jared pulls into the driveway.
I watch through the broken window as he parks and gets out, going around to the passenger seat to get a tool bag.
He takes his sweet-ass time coming up to the porch, and stops to look at the gargoyles along the way.
I open the front door as he reaches for the doorbell, startling him. Should I feel bad I found a bit of satisfaction in that?
“Hey,” I say, and step aside, letting him in. “Thank you for coming to board up the window.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” he scoffs, and I’m reminded all over again why I can’t stand this asshole. “My dad still thinks you’ll change your mind and arrest me.”
“I still could.”
“That was days ago. You missed your chance,” he taunts, thinking he has the upper hand here. “And now you owe me. I want to come over at night.”
“You really know nothing about the law, do you?” I shut the door behind him, taking a glance at Thomas and Gilbert. I want to go back to last night, before the ghoul attacked, and be back in bed with Gil, talking about spells and magic with hope and excitement.
I should have known that would have been short-lived.
“I’ve arrested people for crimes they committed years ago,” I go on, taking another sip of coffee. “You’re an arrogant asshole, you know that, right?”
He turns, eyes wide. I don’t think anyone has ever called him out like this before. “I’m going to tell my dad what you said!”
I roll my eyes. “All right, Draco. Go tell Father. See how much I care.” Though I’m fairly certain his dad will agree with me.
Jared sets the bag of tools on the coffee table, surveying the damage.
“What happened?”
“I was cleaning the window and I slipped,” I smoothly lie. “The ladder fell right into the window.”
Jared nods and sets the tool bag down, getting out a tape measure.
I finish my coffee and pick up the broom again, sweeping little bits of glass from under the couch.
Jared goes back outside and brings pieces of plywood onto the porch.
I sweep up more glass and move the couch back, taking the cushions off to shake them out.
“You seem to have done this before,” I say to Jared as he lines up the first piece of plywood.
“My parents make me do Habitat for Humanity every year.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” I look out the window at him.
“I guess it’s not, but I’d like to take a normal vacation every now and then. We haven’t been anywhere fun in years.”
“You have no idea how good you have it, do you?”
“Please,” he spits. “Are you going to tell me about your rough childhood now?”
“Hardly.” I pick up a few big pieces of glass from under the couch cushions and toss them in the bag. Scooting the couch to the opposite side of the room, I sweep the floor again, making sure I didn’t miss any pieces of glass, and then go get the vacuum.
I go over the couch and each cushion three times, not wanting to sit down and get a piece of glass in my ass.
This couch came with the house and I never took the cushions off to vacuum before.
The thought never crossed my mind, and seeing all the crumbs makes me a little scared to look at the other couch in the larger living room.
I run the vacuum over the rug a few times, finally feeling satisfied that the glass is cleaned up. I take the box into the kitchen, setting it by the back door so I can take it out and dump it in the recycling later.
Feeling a little paranoid, I check the closet and make sure my purse is still there. The book and the notebook are stashed safely inside. I close the closet and turn around, the feelings of being watched and attacked still lingering.
My phone rings, and I go back into the kitchen to answer it. It’s work, and I debate not answering. I don’t want to deal with anything else right now. Work has always been my first priority. It’s always been the most important thing in my life. And now…now it’s taking a back seat.
“Bisset,” I say into the receiver.
“Hi, Detective. It’s Deena. We got the DNA results on the bat.”
I can tell by her tone of voice it’s not the results we were expecting. “And?”
“It’s human blood, as you already know. I was able to get hits on three different sets of DNA, and none were from our victims.”
“Three?”
“Yes. I’ll send the official report to your desk.”
“Thanks,” I say, and it looks like I’ll be going into work today after all. I’m at least waiting a few hours to make my food poisoning story believable. I hang up, sticking my phone in my back pocket, and go back to the porch to check on Jared.
Was the baseball bat used to murder three others? If Josh’s blood had been on it, I’d be more likely to say yes. But given the fact I was called out and hexed, I’m more inclined to say it was planted. The bat had a lot of blood on it. It looked like a murder weapon.
Just like the basement looked like a crime scene.
I need to talk to Mrs. Green, the woman who owns the house and the one who discovered the basement. If someone wants to get my attention, that’s one thing. But messing with a real investigation crosses the line.
Unless the two are connected. And if they are, I’ll figure it out.
“Can you hold this?” Jared asks, and I snap my attention back to the present.
I put my hands on a piece of wood, holding it in place as he plugs in a nail gun and pops a few nails into the frame.
“It’s not perfect,” he says almost apologetically. “But it’ll keep wildlife out.”
“What about curious teenagers?” I tease, and actually get a smile out of him. He looks away so I don’t see it.
“I think it’s strong enough to hold them off,” he replies. “Though if they’re really curious, I’m sure they’ll find a way in.”
“Good thing I’m installing motion sensors and cameras this weekend.”
Jared packs up the tools. “You might want to tape plastic around it or something to keep bugs and rain out.”
“Will do. Thanks again.”
He nods, stopping on the steps to look at Thomas and Gilbert.
“Go ahead,” I say, knowing what he’s thinking. “They’re just stone.”
He sets the tools down and touches the statues. The first time I felt the gargoyles, before I knew who they really were, they were warm to the touch. It threw me. Scared me a bit, even though I didn’t want to admit it to myself.
“Just stone,” Jared echoes, patting Thomas’s chest. He grabs his bag and walks down the cobblestone path, stopping abruptly as he looks at something on the ground and then tipping his head up to Jacques.
“If they’re just stone, then why is that one bleeding?”