“It doesn’t matter because we aren’t calling the police,” I answered with my mouth in a stubborn frown.
“What do you mean, Peyton?” Ryan demanded, his lips tight. “We have to tell the police! Someone tried to break into your house!”
But I emphatically shook my head. “Not someone. Something.”
“The police need to be notified,” Ryan insisted. I knew he still wasn’t exactly convinced that something spiritual was to blame.
“And what will the police do?” I parried. “They won’t believe there’s an otherworldly connection to any of this!”
Ryan narrowed his eyes at me. “How are you so sure there’s an otherworldly connection?”
“Because!” I roared back at him. “This is not a case of coincidence! Drake was one of the officers working on the Axeman case! And it’s a well-documented fact that the Axeman left behind axes and chisels outside of people’s homes when he wasn’t able to get inside. And think about all those articles I found in my guest bedroom! Every single one had to do with this case! Do you think it was just coincidence that someone posted them all over the room?”
He shrugged. “Maybe it was Drake who left them there. Have you asked him?”
I didn’t think he intended for his question to sound so sarcastic, but it came out that way—or maybe I was just overly sensitive. “I haven’t asked him about the clippings yet. We’ve been too preoccupied with trying to get the house cleansed of the malevolence that won’t leave it.”
“Trina’s cleansin’—”
“Didn’t work,” I interrupted. “Drake said it simply goaded the entity.”
Ryan shook his head and sighed long and hard. I knew this was difficult, if not impossible, for him to come to terms with and accept. “Peyton, step outside of the situation for a moment and listen to yourself. You’re talkin’ about Drake, a ghost, as if he were real. I think you’re takin’ all of this a little too far.”
I felt my lips tighten. “I’m not taking it too far, Ryan.” I stood up and hobbled to the door, but he grabbed my hand.
“Let me bandage that hand up,” he offered. He pulled a bandage, scissors, and medical tape from his cupboard. I took a seat on the lip of the tub and allowed him to perform his ministrations on my toe. He was very gentle as he applied the bandage and taped it in place.
“So you think it’s a ghost that left the ax outside your back door?” he asked, with no tone of condemnation in his voice.
“I don’t know,” I responded as I watched him carefully tending my toe. “All I’m saying is that I don’t believe in coincidence. Not in this case. Not when I know better.”
He tightened the tape around the bandage on my toe and stood up, returning all the items to their proper places in the cupboard. Then he turned around again and faced me, his arms crossed against his chest as he leaned against the counter. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds but just looked at me with an unreadable expression on his face. “I’m tryin’ my best to suspend my own disbelief so I can be here for you. And I’m really tryin’ to see the advantage of not notifyin’ the police about this.”
I smiled up at him, genuinely appreciating his concern with all my being. “I know this all sounds very far-fetched, Ryan, but please know that I appreciate your help more than I can say.”
A slow smile took hold of his lips. “So the cleansin’ Trina, the not-so-effective voodoo priestess, performed didn’t work?”
“According to Drake, no.”
He dropped his attention to the floor and shook his head as he sighed. “It’s gonna take me a while to get used to you referrin’ to a ghost as if he’s a friend of yours—I mean, a corporeal one.”
I smiled but held my ground. “I’ll grant you as much time as you need.”
Silence stretched between us as we both just looked at one another. Ryan was the first to break it. “So if the cleansin’ didn’t work and the entity’s power is growin’ stronger, what’s next?”
I nodded as I took a deep breath and focused on the chipped paint of my toenails. I’d intended to repaint them days ago but just hadn’t gotten around to it. I picked at the baby-pink lacquer while I tried to remember what the next step was, according to Drake.
“Our next step is to find someone who can cleanse the house. Drake said something about finding a voodoo priestess who was well versed in magic.” I paused for a second before smiling. “I don’t think we should tell Trina her cleansing didn’t work.”
“Good idea. She’s already done enough damage,” Ryan agreed before his smile vanished and he scratched the back of his head contemplatively. “As to voodoo priestesses, that isn’t my realm of specialty. I have no idea where to start.”
“That makes it problem number one because neither do I.”
We were both quiet again for a few seconds when Ryan glanced up at me and suddenly smiled. “Well, I might not know any voodoo priestesses, but I do know a warlock.”
“What?” I asked with a laugh.
“I headed a construction project for him. It was an old convent he purchased in the French Quarter, which we remodeled into a house,” Ryan said with a knowing smirk. “Christopher Raven Adams. He’s a warlock for hire.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” I answered, shaking my head.
“He practices witchcraft but he’s a he, so he’s not exactly a witch. I don’t know if he’ll be able to help us, but it won’t hurt to find out.”
I nodded and couldn’t stifle the sense of relief that was already welling up inside me. I couldn’t think of a better place to start other than a witch, er, warlock. “When can we go see him?” I asked.
Ryan chuckled and glanced at his watch. “For one thing, it’s three in the mornin’. Although he’s probably awake and more than likely performin’ some sort of séance, propriety dictates that I call him at a reasonable hour.” He quirked an amused brow. “And three a.m. doesn’t constitute a reasonable hour.”
“Okay,” I answered with an air of disappointment as I glanced down at the floor and tried to talk myself into being patient.
“Hey,” Ryan started, offering me a smile as he closed the gap between us and tilted my chin up. “We’re in this together, Peyton. I don’t know if this thing is a spirit, a demon, or just some psycho human, but whatever or whoever it is, it isn’t gonna hurt you again,” he said, his lips tight and his voice strong. “Not on my watch.”
13
We’re in this together. Ryan’s words echoed in my head and I couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you,” I said and tried to hold my tears back. I just felt like I’d been through so much in the last few hours, and my ability to cope had definitely taken a toll.
Ryan shook his head, and his eyes burned into mine. “Don’t thank me, Pey,” he insisted. “I care about you…I care about you in a way I haven’t cared about a woman in a very long time.”
At that precise second, the screeching sound of breaking glass interrupted an otherwise perfect moment. The barking cacophony of Stella and Ralphie as they tore down the stairs was the next assault on my ears. Ryan’s eyebrows furrowed as he glanced down at me in startled wonder. A split second later, he jumped up and headed for the stairs. I was quickly behind him, as were Stella and Ralphie, but instead of following him up the stairs, they both stopped short at the foot of the staircase. Ralphie continued to bark while Stella whined and pawed at the ground.
“Come on you two,” Ryan said as he patted his thigh. But neither of them budged. When he stepped onto the first stair, Ralphie lunged forward and barked with even more ferocity while Stella clawed at Ryan’s pant leg. He eyed me and shrugged. “I have no idea what’s gotten into them.”