Chapter Eleven
The city seemed a little extra loud as I walked into my office, Joe at my side. Sometimes the noise, smells, and chaos of Jakeston were overwhelming, but honestly, I loved it. I was also protective of it, because it was my city—and it had always protected me.
The wolf, she loved the country and the woods and the nature, but the woman was partial to the crowded bustle, the crimes to solve, the ghosts who were more inclined to wander city streets than empty woods.
And they were out in force tonight.
Gracie Dawn was sitting at her little desk beside Max, and seven clients sat in the waiting room, waiting for my arrival.
“A little slow tonight,” Joe noted.
“It’s early yet,” I told him. “And it’s the middle of the week. Wednesdays are always a little quiet.”
“Good,” he said, giving Max a wink as we walked by him. “That’ll give you a minute to catch up.”
Gracie Dawn waved enthusiastically. “Kait! Joe! We’ve got some doozies for you tonight!”
“Is there coffee to go with them?” I asked hopefully.
She jumped up from her seat. “Coming right up.”
“Glad to see you’re on time for once,” Max said, peering into his computer screen. “I’m sending in the first client in exactly twenty seconds.”
Gracie Dawn, carrying a cup of coffee, accompanied the first client almost before I had a chance to sit down. I placed my cell phone on my desk, opened my computer, and put on my welcoming smile.
Joe stood against the wall with his customary scowl.
The first customer was a tall, stern woman who carried an old-fashioned purse over one arm and a cane over the other. She looked like the type of person who’d beat someone over the head with that cane if they got out of line. She didn’t look scared, so her first words were a surprise.
“I’m being tormented. You must help me before I’m forced to admit defeat and move in with my sister.” She shuddered. “I don’t want to do that.”
I gave her a nod. “I assume your house is being haunted,” I said, “and that’s my specialty. I’ll send him on his way…” I peered into my computer screen at the file Max had sent me. “Mrs. Miller.”
“Barb,” she said. She took a deep breath.
“I’ve been wrestling with this…this supernatural entity for…
well, for nearly a year now. And it hasn’t gotten better.
As a matter of fact, the spirit’s antics have only gotten worse.
” She took off her glasses and pressed her fingers against her eyes, as though holding back tears she refused to release.
I watched her quietly, giving her time to gather herself.
“I know who the spirit is, you see,” she said, finally.
She wouldn’t look at me but stared firmly at the cup of pencils on my desk.
The pencil holder was shaped like a white ghost, and I realized it wasn’t the first time a client had sat in that chair and focused on the ceramic ghost when they didn’t want to look at me.
Because even though dealing with spirits was my job, most of them were nearly certain they’d see mockery and disbelief in my eyes.
“Go on,” I prompted gently.
“It’s Edgar, my dead husband,” she murmured.
“The incidents began a week after he passed. I know it’s him.
I just don’t know why he would want to add to the misery of my grief by scaring me and refusing to let me sleep and slowly driving me insane.
We were close. We loved each other.” And finally, she looked at me.
“Do they change, Ms. Silver, once they die? Did he forget his feelings? Or is he simply angry and desperate because he can’t…
” She waved her hand. “…cross over and is crying for help?”
“I’m glad you came to me,” I told her. “I’ll visit your house as soon as I close up for the night, and we’ll get you and your husband some peace. I promise.”
Her lips trembled and she pressed them together so tightly they disappeared. “Thank you,” she whispered, finally. Then, “Would you mind if I sat in the waiting room until you’re ready to go?”
Poor thing. Edgar’s ghost was apparently a complete asshole. “I don’t mind at all,” I told her, “but it’ll be hours.”
She took a deep breath, put her glasses back on, and gathered her cane and purse. Joe rushed from his place against the wall to offer her a hand up.
“Why thank you, Joe,” she said. “I heard people saying what a nice young man you are, despite the ferocity of your appearance. They were right.”
He grinned. “I have a soft spot for brave, beautiful women. It’s why Kait has me wrapped around her finger.”
He surprised a laugh from her. Her eyes twinkled and some lovely pink color infused her pale, lined cheeks. “Well, my goodness,” she said.
He walked her to the door.
“Joe,” I said.
He glanced back at me. “I’ll get her set up.”
“Thanks, Joe.” He really was a sweetheart.
Max brought in the second client. “Um,” he said. “Joe has gone out into the building lobby and stolen an armchair? And he’s put a footstool and a table in the corner with the chair and has Barb Miller sitting there like she lives here now? He sent Gracie out for pastries and tea.”
I laughed. “She’s waiting for me to close up the office so I can visit her house. Joe is making her comfortable while she waits.”
He raised his eyebrows and cocked his head. “We’re doing that now?”
“Sometimes people need a little extra care, Max.”
The patiently waiting client Max had just brought in raised his hand. “I can get on board with that.”
For the next couple of hours, I saw clients, Max made housecleaning appointments, and Barb Miller rested in the waiting room, content. When I glanced out at her, she was sitting with her feet up, her head lolling, fast asleep.
A couple of ghosts drifted into the office and then straight through the wall to the outside again. It was a nice, quiet night and I was glad of it, especially after the worry about Gavin Voss and that whole mess.
I didn’t need anything else to add to the stress of not only the Iron Fang alpha, but the loss of my magic and my shapeshifter.
But then my phone lit up, and even though the screen showed a number I didn’t recognize, I knew I was going to need to take the call.
I just had a feeling.
“Kait,” Anika Draper said when I answered. “We need to talk.”