Joyce & Jim Lavene - Taxi for the Dead 02 - Dead Girl Blues (11 page)

“I’m fine, Debbie. You don’t have to worry. It was but one man—only a small part of my energy and magic. I shall recover.”

But I could tell she was thinking what I was thinking. If this continued to happen, Abe would lose all of his energy. What would become of us in that event was anyone’s guess.

Chapter Fourteen

Abe had Debbie and me gather up all of Mr. Benton’s personal possessions and take them to the tattoo shop. It wasn’t a lot, but I worried that he might have relatives who’d like them. I hoped Abe would return them when he was done.

On the other hand, I could see that he needed to find out what had caused Mr. Benton to fade away. I wanted to help in that quest since it had a direct impact on me. I wasn’t ready to give up my time with Kate. There had to be some answer for what had happened.

“Abe must be thinking there was a curse or spell on Mr. Benton,” Debbie said as we lugged the last of the boxes to the van parked in front of the condo complex. “I’m going home to check all of Terry’s things when we get done. I wouldn’t want him to become a ghost.”

“I wonder if Abe still had a sorcerer if he could have prevented it.” I closed the back door to the van and nodded to the doorman who’d been watching us. It was getting late again, but we still had to take the boxes to Abe before we could go home for the day.

“I don’t know,” Debbie said. “But if that’s the case, maybe you could convince Lucas to help him.”

“That’s not going to happen. I told you how Lucas feels about Abe. He’s not going to help no matter what.”

“I bet he’d help if something happened to you.”

“Maybe. I wouldn’t want to bet my life on it.”

We drove back to Deadly Ink in the sultry evening weather. Traffic was heavy as usual. The rain still hung above us oppressively, but it hadn’t done more than let go of a few drops that splatted on the dusty cars.

Brandon was at the tattoo shop when we got there. We broke up what looked like a deep discussion between him and Abe as they were closeted in Abe’s office. As soon as they saw us, they opened the door, Morris and a few others got the boxes out of the van.

“Quite an afternoon,” Brandon said, waggling his brows. “Now I have to look forward to going out as a ghost instead of a zombie.”

Debbie shuddered at his words. “It was terrible. Don’t talk about it. That poor man.”

He put his arm around her waist as he stared into her half open tank top at her breasts. “Sorry you had to go through that, honey. I’ve got just the thing for you over at the mortuary.”

“You’re so kind.” She smiled at him and smoothed a hand down his face. “But I have to get home.”

Brandon still didn’t move away from her—until Abe stared hard at him.

“Did you find anything unusual in Ash’s belongings?” Abe asked me.

“I don’t know. There were a lot of clothes, some jewelry, and a few knick-knacks. The super said the condo came furnished. He watched us the whole time to make sure we weren’t taking anything that didn’t belong to Mr. Benton.”

“Perhaps that is an issue we should look into.” Abe snapped his fingers and dispatched Morris and another man with the tattoo of a tiger on his face. “Talk to the superintendent. See if he knows something.”

 When we were alone, I questioned him. Abe was scary, but I tried not to back down from him on important issues. “What caused this? What am I looking for?”

“Magic, of course. Whoever killed my magic user did it for this purpose. Harold’s death left me vulnerable to attack.” He eased himself into his old chair behind the desk. “My own magic must be guarded by other kinds of magic, such as the type Lucas wields so casually. Without it, all my people will perish and me along with them.”

“I can ask Lucas again if he’ll work for you.”

“No need. I have an interview with another magic user. Continue searching for Harold’s killer. That’s where we’ll find our answers.”

Was it me, or did he seem smaller than before? He was weaker, by his own admission. It was terrifying to think that my life and Kate’s hung in the balance again. I had no choice but to follow the path I had been set on and hope Abe would be able to maintain his people.

I left his office. The tattoo shop was strangely quiet and empty. Where was everyone?

Debbie was waiting outside as she usually did. She couldn’t take the rude remarks from the men who hung around.

“What did he say? Is he okay?” she asked.

“I guess he’s okay for right now. We have to find whoever killed Harold.” I started walking down the sidewalk. “Let’s hit the smoke shop and see if we can find out what kind of cigarettes this butt belongs to.”

“Okay, although I have to get home soon.”

“Debbie, if Abe disappears like Mr. Benton or dies, so do I. So does Terry. I don’t think I can do anything about finding him another magic user, but I can find Harold’s killer.”

“Lucas cares about you. Tell him he has to protect Abe. He’ll do it if you tell him to.”

“I’m not his master. I’m not going to tell him to do something he clearly doesn’t want to do. Besides, Abe has someone else in mind.”

The smoke shop was only a couple blocks up from Deadly Ink and Simon’s Mortuary. I thought about stopping and talking to Brandon, but that usually wasted more time than his information was worth.

It was hot and humid on the street. Heat lightning flashed across the dark sky, but it was just a tease. There was no rain in the forecast again, and people were getting worried. The Cumberland River was wide and deep, feeding the water Nashville and the surrounding areas needed to grow, but it wasn’t infinite. There was also the threat of fires in the mountains where the woods were tinder dry.

The smells of fried food seemed anchored around us by the lack of rain or even the scarcest breeze. People were sitting out on the curb in plastic chairs, smoking and drinking cold beer. The local drug dealers looked at us and then looked away. They knew who we worked for.

The lights were still on in the smoke shop when we got there, and the open sign was flashing. I took the butts with the gold wrappers from my pocket as we went inside. We were alone with the man behind the counter.

“Good evening.” He nodded to us. “How may I assist you?”

I’d seen him at the coffee shop that was close to the mortuary. He was an older Indian man with a red caste mark on his forehead. He always wore the same blue turban.

“I’m looking for the cigarette that goes with this butt.” I put it on the glass counter. Hookahs and rolling papers were inside it. “It seems distinctive to me.”

He smiled and glanced carefully at the gold wrapped butt. Then he opened the plastic bag it was inside and smelled it. “Oh yes. I know this brand. We sell it here. Would you like a pack?”

“No,” Debbie said. “Those things are nasty.”

“Yes, please,” I contradicted her. “We’d like a pack.”

It was a foreign brand, made in Egypt according to the label. I paid him the exorbitant price for it and then put it in my pocket.

“Do a lot of people buy these? They seem unusual.”

He shrugged his thin shoulders beneath his white shirt. “Not so many, but enough for me to carry them.”

“We’re looking for a man.” I thought about the image Lucas had raised in the palm of his hand. It was hard to say exactly what he looked like. “Maybe medium height and build.”

His dark eyes narrowed. “Are you a cop?”

“No. I work at Deadly Ink.”

A look of fear swept over him, and he trembled as he breathed. “Abe.”

“That’s right.” I’d take fear if that helped us.

“Only one man this week was here to buy these.” He pointed to the cigarettes. “He was taller than me and didn’t say anything. He bought the cigarettes and left. That’s all I know.”

“Do you have surveillance?” When he looked blank, I pointed to the camera in the corner. “Video of the shop.”

“Oh no.” He smiled happily about it. “Too expensive. That is a fake I put in myself to fool the robbers.”

“Anything else you can tell us about this man?” Debbie demanded.

The man behind the counter glanced away as he tried to think of something else. His face brightened when he said, “He had a tattoo and several piercings. He wasn’t old but not young either. He was fair. I don’t recall his eyes. He smiled and thanked me when I gave him the cigarettes. I’m afraid that’s all.”

“Thanks for nothing.” Debbie started toward the door. “That could be one of a hundred men who hang out at Deadly Ink. Let’s go, Skye.”

“Just a minute.” I turned to the man behind the counter. “What kind of tattoo? Where was it?”

“He had a tattoo on his arm of a mystical beast—perhaps a dragon of some sort. And another on the back of his neck. I noticed when he turned to leave. It was a sideways figure eight. I believe they call that the sign of eternity.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

Debbie and I walked out of the smoke shop. We were both sweating since there was no air conditioning in the shop. The proprietor was completely cool or at least appeared that way. Not even perspiration on his brow.

“So one of dozens of men who look the same bought the cigarettes and may have been smoking them in the alley before, during, or after Harold was killed.” Debbie summed up what we’d found so far in a critical voice.

“I’ve solved cases, or seen them solved, with less information.”

She yawned. “Is that it? Do we have to go anywhere else?”

“No. We can go home.”

Debbie glanced at her watch. “Oh my God, It’s almost eight-thirty. We have to hurry.”

We got in the van, and I glanced at her. “What’s the big deal? Terry might be handicapped, but there’s still an adult at the house. And Bowman isn’t a little kid anymore.”

“You don’t understand.” She tapped her fingers nervously on the door handle. “I have to be there for Terry. It was okay last night because the kids were out. They can’t be there after nine with him by themselves.”

Traffic was getting thin going out of the city. I passed a few cars trying to accommodate Debbie’s timetable. I could tell from her voice that this wasn’t just a random request to get home in time to read a bedtime story.

“What’s really happening?” I asked her.

“Terry has started freaking out at nine p.m. each night. I can’t explain it. I don’t even like to think about it, but I don’t want the kids to be there by themselves when it happens. It’s scary for me, and I’m an adult. Besides, Bowman has changed so much toward his father. I don’t know what he’ll do if…”

I didn’t understand, but I assumed it had something to do with the changes Terry was going through. “I’ll do the best I can. We might make it. It should be close anyway.”

We were only a few minutes from Debbie’s house when we passed the leaving Nashville sign. Debbie was almost bouncing off the sides of the van. She glanced at her watch every two minutes. When it was nine, she tensed up and let out a short expletive.

“Can’t we go any faster? If you’re worried about a ticket, I’ll pay it. Please, Skye, we have to get to the house.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were so worried about leaving the kids with Terry? Maybe we could find someone to take care of them if you have to be out late.”

“Like a ghostly mother-in-law or an amnesiac sorcerer?” Her laugh was brittle. “Like I’d leave my kids with Addie or Lucas. If you want to do that with Kate, that’s up to you.”

Her words put my teeth on edge, but I knew she was upset. I paid attention to the road and getting us to her house safely.

“I’m sorry, Skye. You know I didn’t mean it. I’d give anything to have someone responsible like Addie, even if she is a ghost. Things in my life are so far out of control. It’s hard to hold it in all the time.” She glanced out the window. “I’m thinking about taking Bowman and Raina to stay with their grandparents for a while. I’ve put it off because they’d have to change schools. I was hoping to finish up the year and let them spend time with my parents. Maybe things will be better by the end of the summer.”

“Is this because Terry changes every night?” I knew for Debbie even thinking about taking her kids somewhere else was a move of desperation.

“It’s what he’s changing into. I…I can’t explain it. The kids have already seen too much. I don’t want them to hate their father. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“You’re afraid Terry will hurt one of them?”

“No.” Her voice was painful. “I’m terrified that Bowman will kill his father.”

Chapter Fifteen

We pulled into the driveway. I took the turn a little too fast and gravel spit out from under the tires. There were no lights on at the house. I didn’t like it. Someone always left the porch light on for her.

“That’s fine. Thanks, Skye. I can handle it from here. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Her smile in the light from the dash was strained and she was crying.

I parked the van and shut off the engine. “I’m not leaving until I know everything is okay.”

Debbie was already out the door and running toward the house. I grabbed the tranq gun and my Beretta before I followed her.

We didn’t make it into the pretty log cabin before we both heard screams from the area around the garage to the right side of the cabin. It sounded too high-pitched to come from a man—it was one of the children.

Debbie screamed too and ran toward the garage. I followed her, keeping a close watch around us. I didn’t know what Terry had changed into either, and I didn’t want to find out as he was ripping at my throat.

In the dim, overhead light next to the garage, I caught a glimpse of something fast that moved along the side wall and disappeared behind the building.

“He’s behind the garage,” I yelled to Debbie as I tossed the tranq gun to her. “Use it if you need to. Don’t let something happen that can’t be made right.”

She nodded and stuffed it into the pocket of her shorts but kept running.

We heard someone call out again, the voice echoing in the darkness. It was difficult to tell which direction it was coming from. We ran behind the garage, but no one was there. Shadows concealed the back of the garage structure. The light was adjusted to illuminate the front entrance.