Chapter 22
It’s my weekend off, and technically, I don’t have to be at the office. But between Anna getting attacked last night and Gemma’s friend creeping around the house, I can’t help myself.
I get to work and spend a few hours working on my case.
I order takeout, and as I’m eating, my mind drifts to the bloody basement and the cryptic warning of the dark ones looking for me that amounted to nothing.
It was all said and done purely to get a reaction out of me, and something about that still doesn’t sit right with me.
The house was a rental property, and had been vacant for quite some time. It was in poor condition before someone threw animal blood all over the walls. Why was Mrs. Green there so late at night?
I bring my container of fried rice with me as I search through the files of that case, finding Mrs. Green’s info. I quickly finish my food and take off, driving across town to Mrs. Green’s house.
The door opens just a second after I knock. An older lady with light pink hair peers out at me through a screen door, looking like she’s ready to lay into me for going door-to-door selling things and interrupting Judge Judy.
“Hi, Mrs. Green. My name is Ace Bisset and I’m a detective with the Philadelphia Police Department.” I hold up my badge for her to see. She looks at the badge and then at my face. She’s seen me before, but doesn’t seem to recognize me at all.
“Oh, hello.” A cat winds around her ankles. I was right about her being a crazy cat lady at least.
“I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about your property on Fifth Street.”
“Did you find the hooligans responsible for the prank?”
“Not yet, but if I can ask you a few questions, it could help.”
“Then of course.” She shoots back the lock on the screen door and pushes it open. The hinges creak and another cat jumps off a side table, running out of sight.
“On your original statement, you said the house has been empty for several months.”
“Yes,” she says with a sigh. “The previous renters left it in bad shape.”
“Why did you go to it that night?”
“Someone was interested in seeing it. They called and requested a showing in the morning. I went to open up the windows and air it out.”
“Do you have the name of the person who wanted to see it?”
“I should, somewhere. But I can’t remember. That whole night…it’s just a blur.”
“Do you remember talking with me?”
She looks a little startled. “We spoke before?”
“Yes, that night.”
“I don’t remember you, and I would. You have pretty green eyes like my daughter.”
“You asked for me. By name.”
She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. Everything from that night is blurry.”
“You spent the next two days in the hospital, correct?”
“Yes. I had a terrible headache and was just so out of it. I hardly remember anything. I don’t even remember going to the house. All I remember is what the police told me after.”
“Did the doctors find out what was wrong?”
“No. They think it might have been from stress.”
“And you’re better now?”
“I was better the next day. Weirdest thing.”
Yeah. That is weird. Too weird.
“What about your call log? Is their number still there?”
“Oh, probably. I didn’t even think about it. After I missed their appointment and they didn’t contact me back, I assumed they weren’t interested. Especially if they heard about the blood.”
She gets up, cats following her, and returns with her phone. She scrolls through her calls and holds the phone out for me to see. “That’s the number. See how late they called? Nine p.m.! Hardly gave me any time to get the place checked on, though it’s a good thing I went over, right?”
“Right.” I copy down the number, thinking the late call was done on purpose, knowing Mrs. Green would have to go over there that night and discover the blood. “Thank you, Mrs. Green. I’ll be in touch if we find anything further on your case.”
Once I’m back in my car, I pull up a simple Google search and enter the number I got from Mrs. Green’s phone. The service in the area sucks, and it takes a few seconds for my results to load.
“Is that right?” I say out loud, looking at the top hit. I check the number just to be sure I didn’t make a typo.
I didn’t.
Whoever called Mrs. Green to set up what had to be a bogus appointment was calling from Silver Living.
I drum my fingers on the steering wheel.
Gemma works at Silver Living, but this happened before I met her.
And there are countless others who could have placed the call, from patients to doctors to the slew of other people who work at a nursing home.
Just because Gemma works at Silver Living doesn’t mean she’s behind this.
But she very well could be.
“Hello, Detective,” Lyra says when I step into the shop. “Are you here to shop?”
“Yes, just shopping today,” I assure her, and go right for the crystal necklaces. “This is all I need.”
“They’re pretty, aren’t they?” She wraps one in tissue paper.
“Very.” I get my credit card from my wallet. Lyra wraps up the other necklace and rings me up.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Actually, yes.” I hand her my credit card. “I think you know my friend Gemma, right?”
“I do! She’s been coming in here for years.”
“Who is the older lady who came in here with her the other day? We’re supposed to all get together this weekend and I forgot her name.”
“That’s Marissa.”
“Has she been coming in here for years too?”
“Only when she’s desperate.”
“What do you mean?”
Lyra makes a face. “I follow the Three-Fold Law—you know, where what you put out into the universe comes back to you and it should never harm anyone—and I believe anyone who practices should. Marissa…she’s more of a believer in personal gain.
I’ve made my opinions known and have refused to sell her ingredients if I know the spell will do harm. ”
“Do you know how she and Gemma got to know each other?”
“Through work, I think.”
“Work? Marissa’s a nurse too?”
“Goodness, no.” Lyra raises her eyebrows. “She lacks the compassion for that. I want to say she handles insurance. She probably enjoys denying people coverage.”
“Thanks, Lyra. It’s nice to know who to watch out for.”
“Anytime, darling. I can sense raw power in you. It needs to be nurtured in the right direction.”
I turn to leave, then stop and go back to the counter. “I believe the person who killed Josh might go after another who shares his beliefs. Just to be safe, I’m going to get an officer to keep watch over you.”
Lyra’s hand flies to her chest. “Am I in danger now?”
“I don’t believe so, but I’ll stay until the officer arrives.”
“Thank you, Detective. I knew there was something special about you the moment you walked through the door.”
I step out front to call the station. Lyra could very well be a target, and she has a wealth of information about her Wiccan and Pagan customers. It could be catastrophic if the killer got his hands on her.