Freaky Reapers (A Mystic Caravan Mystery Book 8) Read online

  “Not protect you,” Luke countered. “He didn’t want you to be alone for this. He understood how difficult it was going to be for you. For some reason, he thought a strip club was the perfect environment for my special breed of charm. That’s a direct quote, by the way.”

  I didn’t want to laugh, but I couldn’t help myself. “You really are the best friend I’ve ever had.”

  “I am,” he agreed without hesitation. “She was a good friend at one time, too. Don’t forget that, no matter how surly she’s about to be. It’s unfortunate, but ... it is what it is. We can’t change her past or future. We can only share information, and that’s what we’re here to do. Remind yourself of that as often as necessary.”

  “Since when did you turn into the practical one?”

  “We each play to our strengths. Now, come on. The longer we stand here looking like idiots, the angrier she’s going to get.”

  I didn’t think that was possible, but we had no choice. It was time.

  16

  Sixteen

  Creek definitely wasn’t happy to see us. The anger on her face was enough to cause an avalanche of shivers to race down my spine. Never the shy sort, I hung behind Luke as we approached her station because I didn’t know what else to do. I felt smaller than I had in my entire life ... and it wasn’t a good feeling.

  “Hey.” Luke never let anything get him down and Creek’s overt disdain wasn’t any different. “We’re here for the show.” To my utter surprise, he pulled a crisp hundred-dollar bill from his wallet and put it on the table.

  Creek’s eyes lit with interest when she saw the money. I never would’ve thought of going that route, but Luke was clearly ahead of me on this one. I was grateful.

  “What do you want?” she asked finally, suspicion lacing her words. She wanted the money desperately. I could see thoughts of what she might be able to do with it floating through her mind … and all of them revolved around her daughter, who apparently needed new shoes. She wasn’t the sort to acquiesce without knowing what she was agreeing to, though.

  I found my voice. “Information.”

  “You want information from me?” She was incredulous. “What could I possibly tell you?”

  “We’re looking for information on the missing girls.” I stalled, unsure how much I should tell her. Mentioning the paranormal stuff was clearly off the table. Explaining our interest was a thorny concept. “Logan Stone approached me on the street the other day when I was hanging around our old stomping grounds. He mentioned what was happening. We’d like to help if we can.”

  Bafflement etched across a face that looked ten years older than it should. “Who is Logan Stone?”

  “Shadow.”

  “The cop?” She made a face. “I can’t believe you found him right away. Oh, wait ... yes I can. He was the one you cared about most.” Bitterness, hot and dark, flowed freely from her.

  “It was a fluke,” I countered. “I was actually talking to Groove when he approached. I would’ve much preferred Hazy or Junk. They would’ve at least been good for a laugh, but Groove is what I got.”

  “Junk is dead.” Creek delivered the news with blasé detachment. “He died about eighteen months after you left.”

  The news hit harder than it probably should have. “He overdosed?”

  She shrugged. “They found him in one of the abandoned buildings with a needle in his arm.”

  I wasn’t surprised. Junk was the sort who was destined to die in the throes of addiction. “I’m sorry to hear that.” I meant it. “I guess, in the back of my head, I kept hoping he would find a way out.”

  “He did find a way out. It just wasn’t as fancy as the way you found.” Creek glanced over her shoulder and met the gaze of the man behind the bar. She was grim as she climbed on top of the table. “He has to think I’m working,” she supplied as she started moving. “I’ll answer your questions if I can ... but I ain’t no snitch.”

  “I don’t want you to snitch on anyone. I’m looking for Tawny.”

  Creek’s eyebrows, which were patchy and bare in spots, migrated north. “Tawny? Why would you possibly be looking for her?”

  “I think I saw her the other night. It was close to where a witness thought she might’ve seen one of the missing girls. I don’t think she did anything,” I added hurriedly. “She might’ve seen something. We need information, and she’s a potential witness.”

  “You’re talking Tawny the ho, right?”

  I hated that word. I always had, even when it was being tossed around like popcorn at a scary movie. “I only knew one Tawny when I was here. You were with her the night I went looking for you. Before I left. I couldn’t find you guys.”

  “Are you blaming it on her?”

  “I’m not blaming anything on her.”

  “Oh, so you’re blaming it on me. That’s why you didn’t say goodbye.”

  I figured this would come up. “I tried. I looked everywhere. You were nowhere to be found.”

  “I was working.” She let loose a sneer that turned my stomach. “I was just supposed to be watching, but she found two good guys that night and they had cash. It didn’t go exactly how I thought it would. I assumed it would be easier. That was my introduction into a new life.”

  I felt sick in my heart for her. “I’m sorry. I ... don’t know what to say.” I held my hands up, helplessness washing over me. “I didn’t want any of this to happen to you. I really did think you would get out.” It was a lie. I wanted it to happen for her, but I always knew the street would chew her up. I couldn’t have admitted it back then, but clarity comes with age.

  “You’re sorry?” she seethed. “You’re sorry? That’s just ... so stupid.” She shook her hips and turned her back to us so we couldn’t see her face. I had a feeling it was because she needed to collect herself and didn’t want us to see her crack.

  “I am sorry,” I promised. “You have no idea how sorry I am. I didn’t want to leave, but ... I had to. It was the best shot I was ever going to get. I really did want to find you and say goodbye. I looked hard.”

  She turned back to us, a mask of indifference in place. “I suppose it never occurred to you to ask them to wait, to take me with them?”

  Honestly, that had occurred to me. “I was afraid they would think I was more trouble than I was worth if I rocked the boat. I believed they would leave me behind.” Now I knew Max would’ve waited. Even if he had to send the others on without him, he would’ve waited. I didn’t know that then. “I don’t know how else to apologize. I feel horrible.”

  “You feel horrible.” She jiggled her breasts at Luke, who was much more interested in the glitter situation than the cleavage she offered. “Well ... as long as you feel horrible.” She shook her head and sighed. “I can’t help you with Tawny. I don’t think you saw her. She’s been gone for years. She didn’t last more than two years after you left. Maybe a little more than that. The timeline is a little hazy. She got a ride west with someone. She was desperate to get to where the weather was better. And she heard some story about a woman who was working the streets and got discovered by an agent and turned into a big movie star.”

  “I believe that’s the movie Pretty Woman, although she just got the rich guy, not an Oscar,” Luke offered helpfully.

  Creek glared at him. “I’m familiar with Pretty Woman. I didn’t say I believed the story. I said she did. I haven’t seen her since. I don’t think she’s here.”

  Crap. That wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “What about the missing girls? Have you heard anything about them?”

  “I don’t live on the street anymore. I haven’t in years. My house may not be great, but it’s still a house. I don’t hear anything … mostly because I don’t care to listen. It’s too hard.”

  I wasn’t sure I believed her. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to talk to us. “Well, thanks for your time.” I moved to stand. I was ready to put as much distance between the club and me as possible. “I really am
sorry about what happened back then. I tried to find you.”

  “Yeah.”

  Luke put his hand to my back in a show of solidarity and then cast his eyes to Creek. “Hairspray,” he offered.

  Creek was already stuffing the money he’d left in her bra. Her forehead wrinkled. “What?”

  “Hairspray,” he repeated. “If you spray it on your body and then put the glitter on and let it dry before you start dancing it won’t clump. Make sure it’s the hair spray that’s geared for humidity.”

  She worked her jaw. “You know a lot about glitter,” she said finally.

  He smirked. “I’m a man of many talents.”

  “Yeah, well ... .” She looked pained as she focused on me. “There is one person I can point you to for your questions. She’s ... a weird chick. I mean really weird. She knows what’s happening on the streets, though, and she’s always gathering and giving information.”

  My interest was officially piqued.

  “Madame Maxine,” Creek volunteered. “She reads fortunes down the road.”

  “Around here?” I couldn’t picture a place like that in this neighborhood. “How has she not been rolled?”

  “Not here. Six miles down the road, in Royal Oak.”

  Oh, that made more sense. “And her place is right on Woodward?”

  “Yeah. Tea & Tarot or something like that. She might be able to help.”

  It was the grandest gesture she had to offer. “Thank you.” I meant it to the depths of my soul. “I know I can’t make up for what happened, but I wish you the very best. If you ever need anything ... .” On a whim, I dug in my pocket until I came back with a business card. “We’re always traveling. We never stay in one place very long. I’ll do what I can if you ever call, though. I promise.”

  Creek’s expression was thoughtful as she stared at the card. I thought she might rip it up and throw it in my face, but she tucked it in her bra. “Thanks. You should get out of here. You’re going to make my boss suspicious if you’re not careful.”

  TEA & TAROT WAS EXACTLY what I expected. Royal Oak was vastly different from Detroit. It had an artsy vibe, with studios, ritzy shopping, fancy restaurants and deluxe coffee shops on every corner. It was the sort of town Luke thrived in. Even I had to admit it looked pretty great as we met in the parking lot.

  “Now this isn’t so bad.” Luke’s smile was wide. “This place looks cool.”

  Of course he would think that. “This woman might be a quack,” I reminded him.

  “Maybe. I still think it’s cool.”

  I couldn’t admit it out loud because I was still recovering from our meeting with Creek, but I wholeheartedly agreed.

  The wind chimes near the door emitted a whimsical sound as we entered the store. The first scent that assailed my nose was the muskiness of cloves. The second was anise.

  “It smells awesome in here,” Luke enthused. “I don’t ever want to leave.”

  I couldn’t blame him. I was a fan of the scent, too. “It’s nice,” I agreed.

  “Nice? It’s orgasmic.”

  “It’s really nice,” I conceded. “I ... .” My internal radar pinged and I swung my head to the left, frowning when I caught sight of Redmond leaning against the counter. A woman with pretty gray hair stood with him, an ankle-length skirt in wild colors setting off the rich olive tones of her skin. They looked amused as they watched us.

  “Were you just talking about me?” Redmond teased.

  His joviality annoyed me. “Why would you possibly think that?”

  “I’m pretty sure I heard the word ‘orgasmic.’ When you look it up in the dictionary, my face is right there. No joke.”

  Luke snorted. “This guy.” He didn’t seem bothered by the appearance of a Grimlock. Instead, he strode in Redmond’s direction and extended his hand. “You must be Madame Maxine.” We’d looked her up online before leaving the strip club parking lot. “I’m Luke Bishop and this is my life mate Poet Parker. We’re not romantically involved, but we’re soul mates all the same.”

  Madame Maxine’s eyes sparkled. “I bet you are. I know another set of platonic soul mates just like you.”

  Redmond snorted, but I didn’t get the joke. “We’re here for some information,” I started, frowning at Redmond. “I’m assuming he already asked the same questions we’re trying to get answered.”

  “That would be my guess,” Madame Maxine agreed. “You’re asking about banshees?”

  I glanced around the store to make sure nobody was listening. “Oh, well ... .” The store was empty other than the four of us.

  “It’s okay,” Redmond reassured me. “Madame Maxine knows her stuff. She’s a regular resource for us, which is why I tapped her this time. We’re still searching for information, just like you.”

  “I assume your brother told you what happened last night.”

  “He did.” Redmond’s smile slipped. “He’s still traumatized because the hot silver-haired chick made jokes about him being her love muffin. He lives with his girlfriend and he’s worried that can somehow be construed as cheating.”

  “He didn’t do anything to worry about.”

  “Yes, but he’s something of a whiner. Everyone in my family is that way. I’m the only one who that unfortunate family trait skipped. I’ve been whine-free since I was in diapers.”

  He was so full of himself. He was also charming. It was an annoying combination. “How great for you,” I drawled. “Your brother is fine. Guilt-free. Where is he?”

  “He’s at the reaper library digging into research. He’s bothered that you think the missing girls are being turned into banshees. He feels guilty about killing one of them.”

  “You can’t cure a banshee,” I pointed out.

  “No, you can’t,” Madame Maxine agreed. “But I’m not sure we’re dealing with banshees.”

  I moved closer to the woman, intrigued by the surge of power I felt emanating from her. I wasn’t sure what she was, but she was more than some meek store owner who only had information to offer. She could hold her own in a battle. She was ... interesting.

  “What do you think they are?” Luke asked.

  “That, I don’t know,” she answered. “I’m going to dig into some research, too.”

  “I’ve seen two of them now,” I reported. “If they weren’t banshees, then someone is doing a wonderful job of faking it. I mean ... they had all the hallmarks of banshees.”

  “Have you seen many banshees?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you define ‘many’?” she pressed.

  “I’d estimate more than fifty.”

  For the first time since we’d entered the store, Madame Maxine straightened. The look she gave me was full of respect. “Really. What are you?”

  “A hodgepodge. I don’t think there is any real definition for what I am. I lean more toward mind magic.”

  “She can make people do things,” Luke offered. “That’s how she got me to eat avocado toast even though it looked like someone had thrown it up.”

  Madame Maxine’s lips quirked. “I see.”

  “What are you?” I asked.

  “I’m psychic. Brujas run in our family. I sense you might have a bit of bruja in you. You’re definitely powerful.”

  “Like Izzy?” Redmond asked.

  “Who is Izzy?” I asked. “Is that another sister I’ve yet to meet?”

  Redmond chuckled. “Thankfully I have only one sister. You’ve met her.”

  “Yes, Sassy Sourpuss,” Madame Maxine intoned. “I haven’t seen her since before she gave birth, by the way. I think you should send her my way so I can read that baby.”

  Redmond snorted. “Yeah. She’ll jump all over that. You know how she loves it when you climb inside her head.”

  “She needs to get over that.”

  “Aisling doesn’t get over anything she doesn’t want to get over,” he argued. “As for Izzy, she’s kind of a new member of our clan. She runs the gate on Belle Isle.”
/>   Luke was enthralled. “What gate are you talking about?”

  I was curious about that, too.

  “The gate between planes,” Redmond replied. “When we collect souls, we transport them to her and she sees they pass over. She’s powerful in her own right. She’s Maxine’s niece and Braden’s girlfriend.”

  “She’s a good girl,” Madame Maxine confirmed. “She might be able to help us on this.”

  “I still don’t know what this is,” I reminded her. “I’m pretty sure we’re dealing with banshees. They’re not that difficult to identify.”

  “Unless they’re not really banshees,” she argued. “It’s possible that someone created something new. It would hardly be the first time. That’s how half the creatures in the paranormal world came into being, after all.”

  She had a point. “What do you think we’re dealing with?”

  “I don’t know yet. You can bet I’ll be delving into the research. Before you get ahead of yourself — and I only say this because I can feel the compassion wafting off you — I very much doubt these women can be saved.

  “You’re positive we’re dealing with banshees, and I think it’s something close but not exact,” she continued. “You would recognize the void of a soul. The two creatures you’ve seen have been soulless?”

  Reluctantly, I nodded. “Yes.” In my head I knew that saving the women was probably out of my wheelhouse. However, my heart wanted a loophole.

  “The odds of wedging a soul back in a body are slim. I don’t know that it’s possible, especially in this case. We’ll check every avenue.”

  “With that in mind, I think you should come to dinner at my father’s house tonight,” Redmond interjected. “He was going to invite you himself, but I just saved him a trip. I think we should compare notes again. We should have more information tonight.”

  “I’ll be bringing a few friends,” I warned.

  “Your boyfriend and platonic soul mate?” he teased.

  “Maybe a few others.”

  “The more the merrier. Seriously, dinners at our house are a big event. You could bring an army and my father would still have enough food. It will be fine.”