In the Air Tonight

The pages ruffled forward, as if blown by a breeze, but the windows were closed. I turned back to the first page. Though I knew it was impossible, there was more writing there now than there’d been before.

 

The new words seem to be inscribed by the same hand as all the rest, which made me think at first that I’d just missed the final line. Anne was dead. Even if a ghost could write, I hadn’t seen her here, and seeing ghosts was what I did. The new entry read: “Raye Larsen’s Book of Shadows,” followed by today’s date.

 

I dropped the book. It made less of a smack this time since I was on the ground. Good thing too. I might have fallen if I wasn’t already there.

 

“Raye?”

 

I shoved the tome into the pocket of my jeans. How was I going to explain why my name was in it?

 

“The cat,” I said, then peered behind the couch.

 

No cat.

 

Bobby appeared next to me. He held out a hand, and I took it. He frowned. “You’re like ice.”

 

He folded me into his embrace. I spent the time worrying that he’d feel the book in my pocket, rather than enjoying the hug.

 

“There isn’t a knife in her bedroom. Did you find anything out here?”

 

I hadn’t had much of a chance to look. “Not yet.”

 

Together we made our way around the room, rifling drawers, peeking under cushions and furniture. Bobby went into the teeny bathroom and from the increase in volume of the slams and thunks, he wasn’t having any luck finding it there either.

 

He stepped out. “No athame.”

 

“No,” I agreed.

 

“Shit.”

 

“You think someone stole it?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“She could have taken it with her when she left.”

 

“I read the reports. It wasn’t on her body, or in her car.”

 

“So if it wasn’t stolen here…”

 

“It was stolen somewhere.” He let out a breath. “I figured the chances of there being two squiggly knives was pretty damn slim.”

 

A crash from below was followed with cries of “Help!” and “Go away!” and, oddly, “Shoo!”

 

We hurried down the stairs. At the bottom, Bobby drew his gun, glancing over his shoulder with a stern “Stay” before he went around the corner.

 

“Don’t shoot!”

 

Todd’s voice. No others. Curious, I took a look.

 

The cat sat on the counter, staring at the kid, who cowered in the corner. The only movement from the animal was a twitch of the tail, back and forth, back and forth.

 

“Get it out of here!” Todd sneezed—once, twice, again.

 

Bobby reached for the cat and it hissed, arching like a Halloween decoration. He dropped his hand.

 

Todd coughed. His eyes were already red. “You gotta get her out of here. I swear she comes by me on purpose.”

 

“You’re allergic,” Bobby said.

 

“Y-y-ya … think!” The last was emitted with a sneeze.

 

“What’s her name?” I asked, stepping into the room.

 

“Samhain.”

 

The cat leaped into my arms. I waited for the spike of her claws. Instead, she rubbed her head under my chin and began to purr.

 

Todd straightened from his cowering pose. “I’ve never seen her act like that with anyone but Annie.”

 

“Has she been locked upstairs by herself?”

 

“Natasha, the other employee, fed and watered her.”

 

“She seems lonely,” Bobby said.

 

“Dude,” Todd murmured, “aren’t we all?”

 

Bobby snorted. Todd kept a wary gaze on Samhain. “I think she loves you.”

 

Personally, I thought she hated Todd, or maybe she just liked messing with him. I stood with my arms full of cat, my pocket full of The Book of Shadows as the kid sneezed and coughed and dribbled. If I didn’t know better I’d think Samhain was sending waves of dander his way on purpose. Todd was so pathetically pathetic, I felt bad. Then he said it.

 

“I’ll have Natasha drive her to the shelter as soon as she comes in.”

 

I swear Samhain’s purr lowered to a growl. But how could she know what he’d said?

 

“She can’t stay here,” the kid continued. “I was going to have Mrs. Noita take her. But now…”

 

“Can’t you leave her upstairs where she’s comfortable?”

 

“She sneaks down here whenever she can. Scares the crap out of me sometimes.”

 

“It’s a cat,” Bobby said.

 

“Sure it is,” Todd muttered.

 

“What about Natasha?”

 

“No pets at her place.”

 

“Give her this place.”

 

“It isn’t mine to give.”

 

“I can’t.” I tried to put Samhain on the counter. She clung to me like a baby monkey—with claws.

 

“I don’t think you’re going to be able to get rid of her,” Bobby said.

 

“I have a job. What will she do all day?”

 

“Same thing she did here. Sleep on the back of the couch, maybe on your pillow.” Todd’s lip curled, and he sneezed just thinking about it. “You find the athame?”

 

“No,” Bobby said. “Did Anne carry it with her?”

 

“I doubt it. Like I said, an athame wasn’t her ritual instrument.”

 

“Do you have security cameras?” Bobby asked.

 

Todd’s eyes widened. “You think someone stole it?”

 

“Yeah,” Bobby said, and we exchanged glances.

 

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