Is that so, I prompted, and Matt bobbed his head.
Last year, someone put a firecracker in the can in the back toilet. Blew shit all over the place. Tilson was screaming about killing someone, so they sent him home. I mowed their lawn the next day. I was scared, man, but my dad made me. Tilson is nuts. He thought I knew who blew up the john and he pinned me against the fence. God, I thought I was going to die. But then she came out and he went all soft and stuff. He even apologized. Freakiest shit Ive ever seen. Shes smaller than you, and all she did was say his name and he went all meek and shit.
I blinked, my mind racing as I tried to figure it out. Mr. Tilson was a homicidal maniac with a chip on his shoulder. Mrs. Tilson was in charge. And the kid was weird. Living vampires, maybe?
How old is the baby? I asked, trying to keep him talking. This was pure gold.
Matt made a face. I dont know. A year? My mom says shes going to be a spoiled brat and Mrs. Tilson shouldnt wait five years before having another one, like she says she wants. Some kind of medical reason. She wants five or six kids, my mom says.
Five or six? I said, truly surprised. Maybe the Tilsons were Weres and the woman was from a highly dominant pack. But why space them out over five years? Thats a lot.
Yeah, the kid said, scoffing. Im not having any kids. But if I do, Im going to have them all right away. Get it over with. I dont want to be sixty and changing diapers.
I shrugged. There was eight years between me and Robbie, and I didnt see anything wrong with it. Hed raised me as much as my parents, and I had no complaints. But my mom was a witch, so changing diapers at sixty was about the norm. Glenns attack was sounding more and more like an Inderland incident. Thanks, I said, suddenly wanting to get inside. Jenks was probably freezing. I should get in there. But thank you. You really helped.
The boys expression became disappointed, and I smiled. Hey, I could use someone this spring to mow my graveyard. I hesitated. If you dont think thats too weird. My number is on the card.
He beamed, fingering it. Yeah, that would be great, he said, then glanced at the house. I dont think my dad will let me mow their lawn anymore.
Call me, about April? I said, and he nodded. Thanks, Matt. You were a big help.
No problem, he said, and I gave him a final smile and walked away. When I looked over my shoulder, he had his head bent to his friends, and they were ogling my phone number. You okay, Jenks? I said, hoofing it away from the lights and back to the garage. Damn, wait until Ivy heard what Id found out.
Yeah, he said, gripping my hair harder. But will you slow down? Unless you want pixy barf in your hair.
Immediately I checked my pace, tripping when I took the curb without looking so I wouldnt have to tilt my head. Jenks swore when I stumbled, but my pulse jackhammered when my head swung up. It wasnt the almost-fall that shook me, but who was standing by my car, staring at it. Tom Bansenit had to bethe same man who had tried to kill me by way of Al.
Holy crap, its Tom, I said, then shouted, Get away from my car! as I started to jog.
Son of a fairy whore, Jenks swore. Whats he doing here?
I dont know. Caution slowed me down as I approached. Better be quiet. If he knows youre here, all he has to do is knock my hat off and Matalina is a single parent.
Jenks became quiet. Tom continued to stand with his hands in his pockets, looking at my car as if debating something. Nervousness coated my anger as I halted a careful five feet back, puffing out white clouds in the streetlight and looking at the man like the snake he was. Id heard hed gotten fired from the I.S.probably for the stupidity of being caught summoning demons to murder someonebut since Id been the one Tom had been trying to off, the I.S. had done nothing more than that.
What are you doing here? I said, not anxious to have to defend myself, but not wanting to let him poke around in my car either.
The young man had a new hardness in his blue eyes as he stood on the shoveled sidewalk and looked speculatively at me in the lamplight. He was clearly cold in his parka and hat, the chill almost killing the redwood scent that all witches had. Id once thought he was attractive in a tidy, almost scholarly wayI still did, actuallybut freeing Al to kill or abduct me had long since shifted the attraction to disgust.
Trying to make a living, he answered, a tinge of red showing on his cheeks. Ive been shunned, thanks to you.
My jaw dropped and I backed up. I wasnt surprised, but I wasnt going to take the blame for it either. I wasnt the one kidnapping girls to pay demons for black curses, I said. Maybe you should rethink your logic, Sherlock.
He smiled in a not-nice way. Turning as if to leave, he said, Ill be around if you want to talk. I sputtered in disbelief at the invitation and he added, Nice car, before he walked away, hands still jammed into his big pockets.
Hey! I shouted, almost going after him, but the thought of his shunning and Jenks in my hat changed my mind. Rocking back on my boot heels, I exhaled loudly. Shunned? The coven of ethical and moral standards had shunned him? Damn! I hadnt thought theyd go that far. Sure he summoned demons, but that didnt get one shunned. It must have been kidnapping that girl for black magic. Shunning was exactly what it sounded like, and the man was in trouble. Getting the ethical and moral standards coven to reverse a decision was like surviving an I.S. death threat. He was absolutely cut off, and any witch associating with him ran the risk of being shunned in turn.
Making a living, I thought as I watched him. Tom had probably gone independent, seeing that the I.S. wouldnt touch him now, even under the table. And looking like he was having a hard time of it, I added as he got into a rust-cut 64 Chevy and drove away.
I headed for the Tilsons house, jerking to a halt at a sudden thought. Fingers fumbling in my bag, I pulled out my key ring and the lethal-magic detection amulet on it. The thing had saved my life a couple of times, and Tom had a vested interest in seeing me gone.
Rache, Jenks complained as I started to make a slow circuit around my vehicle.
You want to be blown up smaller than fairy dust? I muttered, and he tugged on my hair.
Toms a weenie, the pixy protested, but I finished my circuit, breathing easier when the amulet stayed a nice, healthy green. Tom hadnt spelled my car, but a sense of unease lingered, even as I turned to the cordoned-off house and crossed the street. And it wasnt because I might have some competition in the independent-runner arena. My car had originally belonged to an I.S. agent who died in a car bombing. Not this car, obviously, but a bomb had killed him.
Just that fast, my life can end. Tom hadnt left a charm on my car, but it wouldnt hurt to ask Edden if hed have one of his dogs sniff around it. Boot heels clacking, I reached the door off the garage and went inside. Jenks sighed heavily, but I didnt care if I did look like a paranoid chicken when I asked Edden for a ride home.
I was done with being stupid about these kinds of things.
Four
The sudden cessation of wind as I passed into the garage was a blessed relief, and I paused, taking in the curious mix of space and clutter, the edges stacked with old boxes from grocery stores and mail-order places. Close to the steps leading inside were several large toys, bright with primary colored plastic. The toddler sled had been used from the looks of it, but the rest was summer stuff. It had been a good Christmas, apparently.
Tracks of flattened snow showed where a big-assed truck had been on the otherwise swept cement. There wasnt room for two vehicles, and I wondered if Mr. Tilson was overcompensating for something. Course, maybe it was Mrs. Tilson who had the truck fetish. I sniffed deeply for the scent of Inderlander, finding only the dry smell of old concrete and dust, and I shivered.
I eyed the storage boxes, remembering what my dad had once told me when Id tried to get out of cleaning the garage. People put things in garages that they dont want but cant get rid of. Dangerous stuff, sometimes. Too dangerous to keep inside, and too dangerous to throw out and risk someone finding. Mr. and Mrs. Tilson had a very full garage.
Come on, Rache! Jenks complained, tugging on my hair. Im cold!
Giving the boxes a last look, I went up the cement steps. The hum of a vacuum was a faint presence as I opened the cheerfully painted door and entered a seventies kitchen, nodding to the officer with a clipboard seated at the table. The window above the sink looked out over the front yard and the news van. A high chair done in pinks and yellows was pulled up beside the square table. A box of throw-away boot covers was on it, and I sighed, taking my gloves off and tucking them in my coat pockets.
Plush baby toys were in a large basket tucked neatly out of the way, and I could almost hear a contented, gurgling laughter. The sink held a bowl of cookie-dough-encrusted utensils. A dozen sugar cookies sat on the counter, cooling for the last eight hours. A tear-away tag was tied to the oven, the upper part signed and dated, with the time, stating that Officer Mark Butte had turned off the oven. The Tilsons had left in a hurry.
The kitchen was a curious mix of warmth and cold, the heater on to combat the in-and-out traffic, and I unzipped my coat. My first impression of the house was just as jumbled. Everything to make a home was here, but it feltempty.
There was the chatter of work in the next room, and when I bent to put a blue bootie over my boot, Jenks shot out from under my hat. Holy crap! he swore, flitting over the entire kitchen in three seconds, giving the seated officer a coronary. It smells like green baby paste in here. Hey, Edden! he said louder. Where you at? And he darted out, his wings a gray blur.
From deeper in the house came an exclamation as Jenks probably startled another FIB officer. A set of heavy steps approached, and I straightened. Id gotten my boots at Veronicas Crypt, and covering them in blue paper should be outlawed.
Eddens squat figure suddenly took up the archway to the rest of the house. Jenks was on his shoulder, and the FIB captain looked better now that he was doing something to help his son. He nodded to the seated officer and smiled briefly at me, but it didnt reach his eyes. He was still in his street clothes. In truth, he probably shouldnt be out here, but no one was going to tell him he couldnt oversee the investigation of his sons mauling.
Rachel, he said in greeting, and I coyly waved a bootiecovered foot at him.
Hi, Edden. Can I come in? I asked, hardly sarcastic at all.
He frowned, but before he could start in on me about my lousy investigation techniques, I remembered Tom in the street. Hey, can I ask a favor? I said hesitantly.
You mean more than letting you in here? he said so dryly that I was sorely tempted to tell him about the sticky silk at Kistens boat, which theyd missed, but I held my tongue, knowing hed find out about it tomorrow after Ivy had had a chance to go out.
Im serious, I said as I undid my scarf. Can someone check out my car?
The squat mans eyebrows rose. Having trouble with the transmission?
I flushed, wondering if he knew I was the one whod trashed it while learning how to drive a stick shift. Uh, I saw Tom Bansen at my car. Maybe Im being paranoid
Bansen? he blurted out, and Jenks nodded from his shoulder. This is the same witch you tagged in his basement for summoning demons?
He was looking at my car, I said, thinking it sounded lame. He said something about making a living, and seeing that there are lots of people who want to see me, uh, dead I let my thought trail off. I kept to myself that hed been shunned and Jenks didnt say a word. It was a witch thing. When someone got shunned, it was an embarrassment to all of us. I checked for lethal charms, but I wouldnt know a car bomb from an odometer cable.
The FIB captains expression grew hard. No problem. Ill have the dog unit come out. Actually He looked at the seated officer and smiled. Alex, go wait by Ms. Morgans car for the explosives team.
The man stiffened, and I winced apologetically. Dont let anyone get within ten feet, Edden continued. It might turn you into a toad if you touch it.
It will not, I complained, thinking being a toad might be pleasant compared to what Tom could probably do.
Edden shook his head. There is a news van in the street. Im not taking any chances.
Jenks snickered, and I warmed. Chances were good nothing was wrong with my car, and I felt like a baby, but Eddens hand on my shoulder made me feel better. All the way up until he turned me back to the kitchens door and Alexs retreating back. Maybe Alex should take you home right now, he said, so he can check out your church. For your own safety.
Oh for Gods sake, hes trying to get rid of me. Thats why weve got a gargoyle in the eaves, I said sharply, and slipping out from under him, I resolutely paced deeper into the house. Take me home for my own safety, my ass. He was letting Ivy stay. Why couldnt I?
Rachel, Edden protested, his compact bulk spinning to follow.
Jenks laughed, taking to the air and saying, Give it up, FIB man. Itll take more than you to get her out. Remember what Ivy and I did to your finest last spring? Add Rachel to that, and you can say your prayers.
From behind me came Eddens dry You think Ivy wants another stint as a candy striper? But I was here and he was going to let me in on the evidence-gathering part of things. The FIB was confident that Mr. Tilson had attacked Glenn, seeing that it was his house, but his lawyer might try to pass it off on a burglar or something else. Not cool.
Nice house, I said, eyes roving over the bright walls, low ceilings, and clean but worn carpet. We passed a short hallway, then stepped down into a large living room. Immediately I stopped. Oh my God, I said, taking it in. They have shag carpet. Green shag carpet. This might be why Mr. Tilson was nuts. It would make me nuts.
There were only a few FIB personnel still here doing their FIB thing. One of them flagged Edden over, and he left me with a stern look that said not to touch anything. The faint tickle of fingerprint dust caught in my nose. Ivy was in the corner with a tall woman who, by the twin cameras draped over her, had to be the photographer. They were both looking at her laptop and the shots she had taken earlier.
It was bright and overly warm, and Jenks left Edden to park it on the top of the curtains. Warmer up there, probably. The FIB had been here most of the day before letting us in here, not wanting to chance my messing up their precious virgin site, but it still looked raw to me.
The green-tiled coffee table between the olive-and-orange-striped couch and the brick fireplacepainted to match the floor, incidentallywas on its side and shoved into the raised hearth. The curtains over the wide windows were open to the backyard. God help me but the curtains matched the putrid color combination. Looking at everything, I started to feel nauseous, as if the seventies had taken refuge here against extinction and were preparing to take over the world.
There was no blood except a small splatter against the couch and wall, an ugly brown against the yellowish green paint. From Glenns broken nose, perhaps? An armchair had been shoved into an upright piano, and loose-leaf sheets of music were stacked on the bench. Leaning up against the wall by the large window overlooking the snow-covered swing set was a picture. It had fallen turned against the wall, and I wanted to see what it was in the worst way.
A Christmas tree was propped up in the corner, disheveled and clearly having fallen at some point if the dark spot on the rug where the water had drained out wasnt enough of a clue. There were a lot of decorations for one room, and they were a curious mix of style. Most were the inexpensive, mass-produced variety, but there was what was probably a two-hundred-dollar snow globe and an antique Tiffany-style mistletoe display. Weird.
Three stockings hung from the mantel, and these, too, looked expensivetoo classy for most of the decorations. Only the smallest had a name. HOLLY. The babys probably. The mantel was empty of pictures, which I thought was odd seeing as there was a new baby in the house. The top of the piano was bare as well.
Jenks had dropped down to talk with the guy at the piano. Ivy had her head next to the photographers. Edden wasnt paying me any attention. Everyone looked busy, so I wandered to the fireplace and ran a finger over the smooth wood for evidence that the mantel had once held pictures. No dust.
Hey! the man with Edden exclaimed. What do you think youre doing? His face red, he glanced at Edden, clearly ticked off because he wanted to kick me out but couldnt.
Faces turned, and embarrassed, I backed up. Sorry.
Ivy glanced up from the laptop in the sudden quiet. Both she and the photographer wore questioning expressions as they stared at me, looking like yin and yang with Ivys short black hair and the photographers long blond tresses. I remembered seeing the photographer at Trents stables, taking pictures, but Ivy hadnt been there, and I wondered how she had gotten chummy enough in fifteen minutes to have their heads together discussing the niceties of angles and shadows.
Almost smiling, Edden harrumphed. Head bowed and stubby-fingered hand in the air to say he was taking care of it, he rocked into motion. Ivy gave the photographer one of our cards, then crossed the room to join me. Jenks landed on her shoulder halfway there, and I saw her lips move in a soft comment that made the pixy laugh.
By the time they all reached me, I had cocked my hip and crossed my arms over my chest. Im not going to touch anything else! I exclaimed, wondering if the harsh expressions on the FIB officers faces were for me breaking protocol or a lingering doubt about my involvement in Kistens death. I knew Edden had done his best to squelch it, but that meant little to a lifetime of prejudice.
Rolling his eyes at Ivy, Edden took my elbow to lead me into the hallway. Ivy, too, was smiling, but as soon as the privacy of the hall took us, she became serious. Rachels here now, so how about showing us where Glenn was beat up? she asked, surprising me.
Thats it, Edden said, glancing past me and into the living room. Everything else looks untouched.
I jerked my elbow from Edden and leaned against the wall. Jenkss wings clattered as he flew to snuggle in my scarf, and Ivy shook her head. There isnt enough emotion in the room for someone having been mauled, she said. You say it happened this morning? No way.
Eddens face scrunched up, and I looked at Ivy. A vampire could read the pheromones left in a room, giving a qualitative, though not terribly quantitative, impression of the emotions that had been given free rein. By the way Edden looked, I guessed he knew about the ability but didnt trust it. Neither did the courts, disallowing a vampires testimony unless they were trained, registered, and attended quarterly calibration seminars. Ivy didnt, but if she said there wasnt a sign of a struggle here, then Id believe her over a bloodsplattered wall.
The rest of the house is undisturbed, he said, and Ivy frowned. Do you want me to tell you what we do know while we tour the house for signs ofemotion? he finished, and I smirked. Wait until they heard what I found out. But Ivy shot me a look to shut up, and my breath slipped from me. OkayIll wait.
Im listening, she said to Edden as she went down the short hall. Her stride was long and confident, and the man toting the FIB evidence vacuum pressed into the wall to let her pass. She went first into a tidy, opulent bedroom with pillows, rich drapes, rugs, and beautiful things arranged on what looked like an antique carved bedroom set. Drawers were open and the closet clearly had hangers missing. The rich femininity didnt match the rest of the house. Not at all. Well, except for the snow globe, stockings, and mistletoe display.
The mortgage is in Mr. and Mrs. Tilsons names, Edden said, his hands in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels, clearly not interested in the incongruity of decorating styles. Theyre human, he added, and I almost blurted, No they arent, biting my tongue instead.
He and his wife bought the house about a year and a half ago, Edden continued, and Jenks snorted, silent to all but me. Shes a stay-at-home mom caring for their daughter, but weve found that Holly is registered at three day cares. Mr. Tilson works as a janitor, retired from being a science teacher in Kentucky. Took early retirement, I guess, and wanted something to do and to supplement his pension.
Like clean crap from the walls of the boys bathroom? Yeah, that sounded right.
We have a tap on the phone and were watching the credit cards, Edden was saying as Ivy skulked around the room. Theres no extended family that we know of yet on either side, but everyone is out for the holidays and its taking a long time to get anything.
His words broke off suddenly, and he stared at me. Why are you smiling?
Immediately I forced my expression to go innocent. No reason. What else have you got?
Very little. He eyed me. Well find them.
Ivy eased around the carved furniture like a shadow, using a pen to shift the curtains and nodding at the securitysystem sticker on the window. Her sleek leather made her look like a well-paid assassin against the elegant surroundings hidden inside the depths of the house. Someone had excellent tastes and I didnt think it was Mr. Tilson the janitor. Mr. Tilson the hit man, maybe.
Heres a recent picture, Edden said, handing me a piece of paper with a copy of Tilsons school ID. Jenks startled me when he vaulted from the folds of soft yarn to hover over the nine-by-eleven paper. The face not smiling back at me was blurry, but according to the tag he was blond and blue eyed. There were some wrinkles, but not a lot, and he had a receding hairline.
Pretty harmless looking for someone who can beat up an FIB detective, Jenks said.
Its the quiet ones you have to watch out for, I murmured, silently asking Jenks if he was done before handing the paper back to Edden. Ivy hadnt come over to look, so shed probably seen it already.
We dont have anything yet on Mrs. Tilson, Edden said, starting when Ivy jerked into a fast pace and left the room. But were working on it.
His last words were rather distant, and I could guess why. Ivy was edging into the eerie vamp quickness she took pains to hide from me. Her unnerving speed aside, I enjoyed seeing her like this, wrapped up in thinking. Work was the only time she let herself forget the misery of her wants and needs and found a feeling of self-worth.
Edden followed me into the hallway. It wasnt hard to figure out where Ivy had gone. Jenks had already flown past the open door to the bathroom, and there was a frightened, older FIB officer leaning against a wall at the end of the hall.
She in there? Edden asked the man, who clearly had not been expecting an intense vampire in leather to burst in on him. Edden gave the sweating man a pat on the shoulder. Will you find out if the fingerprints have been sent off yet?
The officer walked away gratefully, and Edden and I entered what was clearly the babys room.
If Ivy looked out of place in the bedroom, she looked like she was from Mars next to the crib, frilly lace curtains, and brightly colored expensive toys. The child had been lavished with attention, from the looks of it. And where Ivy stuck out, Jenks fit right in, hovering with his hands on his hips and staring in disgust at a framed shot of Tinker Bell.
Were gathering information for a trial more than searching for a way to find them, Edden said to keep the conversation going and cover the pain in the back of his eyes. Im not letting a lawyer uphold the Constitution so far that we have to let them go.
I jumped when one of the toys burst into music. Jenks just about hit the ceiling in a cloud of dust, clearly the guilty party.
You cant pack up a baby and go that fast without leaving a trail, I said, adrenaline flooding me. I heard the woman dotes on her kid. I gazed at the mounds of toys. All youll have to do is post a man at the toy store. Youll have them in a week.
I want them now, Edden said grimly. The music cut off, and seeing Jenks hovering miserably in the middle of the room, Edden added, Dont worry, Jenks. We were done here.
Oh, sure, I get yelled at, and the pixy gets told it doesnt matter. But as Ivy poked around, I drifted to the books in the overstuffed rocking chair, smiling at a familiar title. I reached for them, not wanting to leave this spot of innocence and good taste. A feeling of melancholy had overtaken me. I knew it was from my dilemma about having kids. If it had just been my blood disease, I might have taken my chances, but I couldnt face my children being demons.
I had let the hide-and-seek book slip from my fingers when Ivy gingerly came to a halt among the stuffed animals and pastel colors, standing as if the soft domesticity might be catching. Is this the last room? she asked, and when Edden nodded with a tired motion, she added, Are you sure Glenn wasnt attacked somewhere else and dropped here?
Pretty sure. His prints on the walk come right to the door.
Her calm face showed a glimmer of anger. Theres nothing in this room either, she said softly. Nothing. Not even a whisper from a cranky baby.
Seeing her ready to go, I stacked the books on a small table. The thump of a small cardboard doll hitting the floor drew my attention, and I picked it up. The lavish hide-and-seek book was extravagant for a small house in a depressed neighborhood, but after seeing the bedroom, I wasnt surprised. It was obvious they spared no expense when it came to their kid. Nothing fit. Nothing made sense.
Jenks flitted to Ivys shoulder, clearly trying to cheer her up. She was having none of it and waved him away. Edden waited for me by the door as I leafed through the book to put the doll back. But there was already a hard bump in the pocket where it belonged.
Just a minute, I said, using two fingers to dig it out. I didnt know why, but the doll needed to go back in her bed and I was the only one who could do it. Thats what the oversize print said. And I was feeling melancholy. Edden could wait.
But when my fingertips connected with the smooth bump in the pocket, I jerked my hand out, jamming my fingers into my mouth before I knew what I was doing. Ow! I yelped from around my fingers, then stared at the book, now fallen onto the chair.
Eddens face became wary, and Jenks flew to me. Ivy stopped dead on the threshold, staring with eyes black from the surge of adrenaline Id given off. Embarrassed, I took my fingers out of my mouth and pointed. Somethings in there, I said, feeling quivery inside. It moved. Something is in that book! And its furry. And warm, and it shocked the hell out of me.
Ivy came back in, but it was Edden who took his pen and stuck it in the pocket. The three of us crouched over the book while Jenks stood nearby and bent to look in.
Its a stone, he said as he straightened, looking at me quizzically. A black stone.
It was furry! I backed up a step. I felt it move!
Edden wedged the pen in, and a black crystal came sliding out to glint dully in the electric light. Theres your mouse, he said dryly, and I felt the blood fall to my feet as I recognized it.
It was a banshee tear. It was a freaking banshee tear.
Thats a banshee tear, both Ivy and I said together, and Jenks gave a little yelp, taking flight to flit madly between me and Ivy until he finally landed on my shoulder.