Chapter 17
Gemma’s aunt blows out the flame in her lantern and turns to close up the cellar.
It’s one of those old-fashioned kinds that always reminds me of The Wizard of Oz.
She wraps a chain through the door handles.
The root cellar is under a decent-sized white house.
The main part looks historic, with a large wing of additions put on in the last ten years or so.
She brings her hand up to her face, shading her eyes as she watches my car roll by. I take my foot off the gas, letting the car slow a bit on its own before kicking it in reverse and sending gravel flying as I back up. Gemma’s aunt backs away and then turns and runs into the house.
Granted, I’d be leery too if someone stopped and backed up when they saw me coming out of my house, but it doesn’t make me feel any better about Gemma’s well-being. I continue to back up, needing to turn back down the road I was just on in order to get to the driveway.
Going slow, I pull in the driveway and park a safe distance from the house. I kill the engine, put the keys in my purse, and get out, shifting the way my purse hangs across my chest to make sure my badge can be seen, though I’m not sure if that’ll work in my favor or not.
I’ve never dealt with the Amish before, and the local law enforcement here is specially trained in their culture.
“Excuse me?” I call before going up the porch steps. “I’m Detective Ace Bisset, and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions.”
Shadows move through the house and the sheer curtains hanging in the window closest to me move.
“I’m looking for someone who might have passed through,” I go on. “I just want to ask if you’ve seen them.”
A few seconds tick by before the lock shoots back on the door. With a creak, the wooden door opens, leaving the screen shut.
“Hi,” I say, and take another step closer to the house. I hold up my badge. “I’m a detective with the Philadelphia Police Department. Do you have a moment to answer a question or two?”
“You’re Ace Bisset?” Gemma’s aunt asks, squinting her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Who are you looking for?”
“Gemma Hayes.”
The screen opens and Gemma’s aunt steps onto the porch. “That’s my niece. Is she in any trouble?”
“No.” I take another few steps, and a bad feeling starts to bubble inside of me.
“Is Gemma here?”
Her aunt shakes her head. “No.”
“She left the hospital with you, correct?”
“Correct. We brought her back here hoping she’d find some peace, but when we woke up the next morning, she was gone.”
My people-reading skills are usually great—Gemma is a rare exception, okay?—and this lady is hiding something. Gemma is here. I can feel it.
“Do you have any idea where she would have gone?”
Her aunt shakes her head. “You’re the detective that saved her, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. We’ve met before at the hospital.”
Her aunt puts on a smile. “Right. Would you like to come in? I never really thanked you for saving her life. I just made fresh lemonade and have a pie in the oven.”
“Sure,” I agree, hoping I can find some sort of clue to where Gemma is.
“I’m Beth, by the way. I don’t think we were properly introduced.”
“I’m Acelina, but I go by Ace. It’s nice to meet you again.”
Beth holds the door open for me and leads me into the kitchen. The house is a mixture of new and old. The couch is modern, but there’s not a TV or any sort of electronics in the living room. A large lamp hooked up to a mini propane tank is in the center of the room.
“Have a seat, dear. I’ll bring you a glass of lemonade. You can use a drink in this heat.”
“Yeah, it’s unseasonably hot today.”
“You must think we’re crazy not having air conditioning.”
“No,” I say honestly, shaking my head. “I don’t either. My house was built in the late 1800s.”
“As was the center of this one.” Beth smiles and motions to the couch.
I watch her go into the kitchen, which is the room next to the large living room.
There are double doors connecting this room to it, and they’re both open today.
She takes two glasses from a cupboard and fills them both with lemonade from the same pitcher.
I can rule out her trying to poison me…unless she pulls a move from The Princess Bride and is immune to the poison.
“Thanks,” I tell her, and take the glass, waiting for her to sit down and take a sip first before I try it. And dammit, it’s really good.
“Were you close with Gemma?” Beth asks.
“Not really,” I say, and feel like it’s a lie, though it’s the truth.
Gemma was a fake friend, trying to get info on me to pass along to Marissa.
I felt like we could be close, and I wanted to be close.
I’ve never had a best friend before and I still feel stupid and mad at myself for being too willing to turn a blind eye to the weird things Gemma did that should have raised a red flag. “I haven’t known her that long.”
But she is the only human on the planet who knows about my abilities. I used my fire magic to save us from a psycho murderer.
“She’s a good girl. Misguided, but good.”
“Yeah, she seemed like it. Caring and all. I mean, she’s a nurse.”
Beth smiles and nods again. “Thank you again for rescuing her.”
“It’s my job.”
“Gemma talked about you, you know. The night we took her home,” Beth adds quickly. “Seemed to think very highly of you. That’s why I thought you two were close.”
“Oh, well, I’m sure she was just grateful I got there in time.”
“I’m sure too. She said you two had a lot in common.”
Is she trying to ask if Gemma and I had a romantic relationship? Closed-mindedness is an instant button pusher for me. “I suppose some things. Too bad Gemma isn’t around to ask. When was the last time you spoke with her?”
“The day we took her home. Though she was pretty quiet.”
“How’d she leave?”
“I’m guessing she hitched a ride with a few of the other youths into town and got a cab. She had friends in Philly, maybe she’s back there.”
I shake my head. “I checked her house on the way here. No one has been there.”
“Maybe she has a boyfriend she’s staying with.”
That’s a nope as well. Where the fuck are they keeping her? “Thanks for the lemonade. I should be on my way.” I tap my badge. “Gotta get back to work. If you do see Gemma, can you tell her to get ahold of me somehow?”
“Of course.” Beth takes my glass of lemonade and goes into the kitchen, putting both glasses into the sink. There’s no running water, just a pump where a faucet would be. I stand, edging out of the room.
And then I hear someone cough.
It’s muffled and coming from upstairs? No…the basement. I blink and the scene from my dream plays out before me. Beth stepping into the dark basement, holding up the lantern. Gemma’s down there, sick and in desperate need of medical attention.
I readjust my purse again, right hand inching toward my gun.
Dammit. Why did I go about this as the cop version of me?
I can’t pull out my gun and demand Beth take me down to see Gemma.
I need probable cause to carry out a move like that, and the rules are fuzzy when a group like the Amish are involved.
“Beth,” I say in a level tone. She turns around, face pale. “Where is she?”
“Who?”
“Cut the bullshit. I know Gemma is here, and I know she’s not doing well.”
“You don’t understand,” Beth says, eyes filling with tears. “I’m trying to save her.”
“Save her from what?”
She rapidly shakes her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me. I’m a very understanding person. If Gemma is in trouble and needs saving, I’m the woman for the job.”
“You can’t save her from this.”
“Why not?” I ask, throwing a hand in the air.
Beth presses her hands on her apron, eyes fluttering shut. For a brief moment I think she’s going to pass out. With a deep inhale, she opens her eyes again. “You can’t save her, because you need saving too.”
“Saving? Saving from what?”
She doesn’t answer, and instead wrings her hands again, twisting them in her apron. “She shouldn’t have left, but I can’t blame Gemma. My sister was the one who started it. Gemma didn’t have much of a chance…but now she does.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“The devil.”
“What?” I ask incredulously. Before Beth can go on, the floor vibrates behind me. I whirl around, fingers sweeping over the cool metal of my gun. And then Beth steps forward, pulling a taser from her apron pocket. She hits me hard and the electricity sends a shockwave through me, making me dizzy.
The last thing I remember is Gemma’s uncle standing over me. And then my vision goes dark.