11
It was his day off. He should have been relaxing at home, not rehashing a case, but he couldn’t settle himself down. For some reason, Adamson’s digs still stung. It didn’t help that he knew she was out there hunting for India. Picking up a sheaf of papers he had on his retro black-and-white kitchen table, he flipped through the pictures.
India, the missing girl, showed a distinct resemblance to a young Adamson. He put the two pictures side by side; although Adamson was in her teens when her picture was taken, they looked close enough to be sisters, and that was a little spooky. Both of them had auburn hair that fell in waves, and there was a softness to both sets of eyes that got under his skin, made him feel like a big bastard.
With a sudden jerk, he threw the papers back on the table and let out a sharp gust of air. He never had trouble controlling his temper, but something about Adamson set him off, and she revelled in poking at him. Like it had become an Olympic Sport for her.
He fingered the tracking device he’d brought home with him, thinking maybe he’d drive out past her place, but the thing had flicked off like it was wont to do. No amount of changing batteries, updating software, or switching out parts made a difference. He’d learned it would come back on line when it felt damn good and ready, and not a bloody second before.
Reaching into the fridge, he pulled out a beer, paused and then put it back. Just in case he got a hit on the tracker.
Sitting back at the table, he spread the file out, flipping through it a page at a time. The similarities in the cases Adamson managed to pull out of her hat on her own were more than a little suspicious. The kids would go missing without a trace, local law enforcement could do nothing, somehow the parents would track Adamson down, and they would pay her to find the kids. And on all the cases she’d been brought in on, she’d found the kids, though not always alive.
And there was the rub. She had a better rate of success than any FBI agent, than the whole freaking agency! He slammed a fist onto the table and the tracking device lit up, blinking softly.
Grabbing it, he smiled. She was heading south. This wasn’t the first time and the pattern was too obvious; someone in New Mexico was helping her, and it was time O’Shea met up with them both and had a chat with them.
Grabbing his jacket and keys, he jogged out to his vehicle. The wind was picking up and it whistled through the alley alongside his house. With a couple of days off in a row, it was a good time for a road trip, and this way no one would be the wiser to his deviation from procedure.
*-*-*-*
The drive to New Mexico was uneventful. I sped like crazy, trying to catch time I didn’t have in the first place. I could feel India, feel her fear and confusion and, worse than that, her strength slipping away from her. Not like she was dying, but that her willpower was slowly being eaten away. Whoever had her was making a push to get her under their control. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was what happened to Berget. The two cases were too damn similar for my liking. The park, the time of day, the damn date—even down to the swing India had been on. The only difference I could see was Berget wasn’t a spirit seeker, which was what I thought India was. My hands were wet on the steering wheel from my sweat, as I continued to roll the two cases over in my mind. My lower back felt clammy, and I feared the worst. That this case would end the same way Berget’s had—in a death where I couldn’t even bring the body back to her parents for closure.
I shook the thought away. No, I wouldn’t go there. Guilt rolled over me. I’d been so young, both in age and ability, that when Berget had been snatched, I didn’t know what I was doing. Still, I felt like it was my fault she was snatched, that I was somehow responsible for her going missing. It wasn’t hard for the detectives on the case to decide I was guilty, not when I tended to agree with them.
“This time will be different,” I said, startling Alex out of a light doze. He cocked his head at me, then closed his eyes and went back to sleep.
After what was etched into my bathroom mirror, I knew they, whoever they were, knew I was coming for her. They also knew all about Berget, so I had to be ready to face whatever they would throw my way. None of this was making me feel better, not one bit.
Going as fast as I dared, only taking a short four hour nap when I could no longer keep my eyes open, I cut our driving time by an hour and a half, getting us into Roswell by four thirty in morning the next day. Or at least into the north side of the town.
Despite the town’s reputation for UFO’s because of that one singular crash, there was actually very little supernatural activity in the area—unlike North Dakota, which had more than its fair share of the weird and the wild. There was only one place I would stay while in Roswell, and it was run by a very large ogre who wore a ring similar in make to Alex’s collar. In other words, he passed for human.
The Landing Pad, an apt name for the area, was a small motel with an attached bar catering to those needing to be discreet.
I parked and Alex followed me out, tight on my heels, my command that he stay close still with him. I stretched and he mimicked me as best as his contorted body would let him. It brought a smile to my face and I was glad he’d come to find me at the hotel, though the reason for it sucked.
The lady at the front desk checked me in, gave me a key and we went to our room. No point in calling in on my friend now, he slept till after noon every day. The Shaman I was here to see was even worse, she would be inactive until dusk. And if there was one thing I’d learned, it was that you didn’t mess with a Shaman’s schedule, not if you wanted their help.
Double locking the door behind me, I checked the room, and then flopped onto the bed, Alex throwing himself down beside me. Within moments I was asleep. For once, it was dreamless.
Hours later I pulled myself awake. “Damn,” I flicked open the curtain. I’d slept longer than I’d planned. Jumping out of bed, I grabbed Alex and we headed out to find my friend. Ogre he might be, but he was also the best source of information I knew down here.
The motel’s door barely creaked under my hand, but a voice still called to us from within the building.
“Won’t be a second.”
Knowing who it was, I followed where the voice had come from. A large, pale blue-skinned Ogre stood in front of the stove, his dark blue hair in a long braid down his back. He wasn’t as big as some I’d seen, but he was still large, well over seven feet. He had piercings through his nose, lip and eyebrow, but none in his ears. Absently I wondered if it signified anything or if he was just trying to keep up with the human culture.
I sauntered up to him, sure of my welcome. “How you doing, Dox?”
With a roar, he spun and pulled me into a bear hug, slapping my back, much to Alex’s displeasure as made apparent by his muttered grumbling.
“I’ll be snookered, Rylee! It’s been months since you been down our way. How in freaky fairyland are you?” He held me at arm’s length, ignoring Alex’s grumbles, and inspected my condition. I must not have passed because before I could answer, he spun me around and sat me at the large table. I always felt like a child sitting at a table that was made for Dox and his buddies. “Here, sit and eat.” He pushed a plate of brownies toward me and I snagged one. If Dox was a perfectionist for anything, it was his cooking. He smiled at me, a twinkle in his eye, “Freshly baked boggart brownies are the best for what ails you.”
I froze with one of said brownies halfway to my mouth. “No boggarts in them I hope.” He laughed at my expression and pushed one toward Alex, who sat at my side, a sceptical look on his face as he sniffed the pastry.
“Nah. Picked the recipe up from a boggart passing through and added it to my repertoire.” He placed one big hand over his heart. “You wouldn’t truly believe I’d feed you boggart without telling you, would you?”
I snorted. “I seem to remember a certain meal that consisted of mystery meat which turned out to be—”
“Ah yes, I remember. Let’s not discuss that. It didn’t turn out well for anyone.” He grimaced and I smiled around the brownie. Goblin meat is not very tasty, no matter how many spices you add to it. And when the process reverses and the meat comes out the way it went in, it burns. I’d eaten nothing for the next week that didn’t hurt all the way down.
“So, you here needing help?”
I nodded, my mouth full. He handed me a glass of milk. After a chug of moo juice, I answered him. “There’s a kid I can’t track and there was no evidence of her even being taken. Figured a shaman was my best bet. I was hoping Louisa would help me out.”
Dox frowned and sat down across from me. “You haven’t heard then?”
I frowned right back at him. “Haven’t heard what?”
He let out a sigh and folded his hands on the table. “All the shamans, all except one, have left. Gone. Pfft.” He made a flapping gesture with one big mitt.
“What? Louisa would never leave, this is her home!”
“I know, but she’s gone. Not a word about it either until someone went looking and found only this Doran fellow.”
My eyes widened. “A male shaman? That’s taboo ‘round here, isn’t it?”
Dox nodded and pushed another brownie toward Alex, who took the square eagerly. “Yup. But he’s all we’ve got now. Suppose you want to know where to go looking for the new guy?”
I stood up and brushed crumbs off my lap. “Yes, doubly so now.”
Dox looked up at me, his eyes solemn. “Thought you didn’t Track adults.”
“Not going to Track them, Dox, just going to ask a few questions. If I have to work with this Doran, then fine. But I’d rather work with someone I know and can trust like Louisa.”
“Well then.” Dox stood and led me out of his kitchen, Alex right behind us. “Here’s his address.” He handed me a business card.
My eyebrows climbed near into my hairline. “He’s handing out business cards?”
Dox smiled down at me and patted my head. “Wait till you meet him, Rylee. I’m betting you two are going to just” —he clapped his hands together— “hit it off.” It was the twinkle in his eye that told me this Doran would be trouble. But I went anyway. I needed him to help me find India, no matter how much trouble he was going to be.