“It’s not our practice. What we bury with the dead we expect to go to earth with them.”
“But she was human,” Lily murmured, turning the bag over in her gloved hands. “She wasn’t clan. And she loved him so very much.” Only a mother would bury her son with his baby blanket. One she’d made for him. One she refused to allow to decompose gracefully into the earth.
She looked up. “Call Cullen for me.”
“Agent Yu,” one of the techs called. “Got something here you want.”
Oh, yes, he did. A wallet.
The leather was badly rotted, much worse than the boots. Pieces crumbled off despite her care, but she got it open. The driver’s license inside was plastic and intact. She pulled it out and rubbed the dirt off with her thumb to reveal a small photo of a smiling, red-haired young man.
Charles Arthur Kessenblaum.
THEY were nearly back to town when Rule’s phone chimed. Lily was on her third call, this one from Deacon.
She’d notified Brown and asked Deacon to send someone to pick up Crystal Kessenblaum—not as a suspect, but as a witness. Crystal wasn’t a medium. Her first call had been to Marcia Farquhar, but the blasted woman was in court. But surely the woman who’d been godmother to one of Mrs. Kessenblaum’s children would know about the other. Hadn’t Louise told her best friend the truth about Toby, right from the first?
They’d drifted apart, Farquhar had said, over the years. But not completely. Surely not so much that she wouldn’t know about Charles Arthur.
Charley. That’s what the women at the gens compleo had called him. He’d been twenty-three when he died. Last night would have been his coming-of-age party.
It was the mother. Lily knew that in her gut and her bone, and Cullen had agreed it was possible. Mrs. Kessenblaum created an abomination not because she wanted a soul-slave, but because she wanted her son. She’d tried to bring him back to life, or keep him with her as a spirit. Like those foolish bygone sorcerers who’d made zombies, she’d refused to accede to death.
“Crystal’s not at her apartment,” Deacon said. “She’s not at work, either. Hasn’t been in for days.”
Shit. Preoccupied, Lily barely glanced at Rule when his phone rang and he answered. But some instinct made her look again.
She told Deacon to hold on a moment and put her palm over the phone’s mic. “What is it?”
Rule shook his head at her, listening intently. “You’re sure? Yes, of course you are. I don’t . . . Just a minute.” He looked at Lily. “Toby went with his mother this morning.”
She nodded. They were going to the miniature golf place, then Alicia was going pick up Louise and they’d all go to lunch together.
“He—they—haven’t come back. And Alicia isn’t answering her phone.”
THIRTY-FIVE
LILY was certain Alicia had snatched Toby. Rule didn’t believe it. Alicia had concocted a crazy plan, true, but she wasn’t a lawbreaker by nature. She wasn’t a woman who would throw away her entire life in order to steal her son from the father she’d agreed, after all these years, could have him.
And it didn’t matter which of them was right, not immediately. Lily had done what was needed. She’d gotten Deacon to put out an APB for Alicia’s car—having memorized the make, model, and even the license tags. Rule wanted to kiss her for that.
Probably, he told himself, Alicia’s car had broken down and she’d left her phone somewhere, or forgotten to charge it. That happened. She’d feel foolish when some officer saw the car and pulled over, but she’d get the help she needed.
There was no reason to panic.
“I’VE got to go,” Lily said, holding both of Rule’s hands in hers.
They were at Louise’s house. He’d had to come here, of course, to be with Louise . . . to be here when Toby and Alicia arrived. But Lily couldn’t stay. He understood that. Finding the wraith’s creator had to be her priority. “Of course. I’ll call you when Toby turns up.”
She thought he was deluding himself. He saw that clearly in her face, however cop-blank she made it.
“Alicia wouldn’t kidnap him,” he said again. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but she wouldn’t do that. Her career means too much. Her new husband matters, too. She’s not the type to go on the run.”
Louise came in. “Of course not. I just can’t understand where she is.” Her voice was calm, but her eyes were frightened.
Lily squeezed Rule’s hand, then let go and went to Louise. “There haven’t been any auto accidents that could have involved her. Sheriff Deacon checked for us.”
“I know. I’m just being a mother and worrying.” Her smile wobbled. “Goes with the territory.”
The doorbell rang. Louise rushed to answer, with Rule and Lily right behind. Though why would Alicia and Toby ring the bell? Surely Toby had a key, even if Alicia didn’t.
And he didn’t hear Toby. There were undoubtedly moments when Toby didn’t chatter, but coming back from an outing with his mother . . .
Of course Louise flung open the door without checking first. “Oh. Oh, come in.”
The disappointment in her voice stopped Rule cold. He closed his eyes. He would not panic.
“Cynna’s flying out,” Cullen said briskly. “She managed to snag a seat on the same flight as Nettie, in fact. With the time difference, that has her getting into Charlotte about midnight.”
Rule opened his eyes and saw his friend in front of him, holding his ratty backpack by one strap. “Cynna’s coming.”
“Yep. I’ve got a couple of Find spells, and I’ll try them, but they’re nothing compared to what she can do.” He grinned. “I admit it even when she isn’t here, ready to thunk me.”
Midnight. Rule wanted to believe Cynna wouldn’t be needed. Surely they’d find Toby long before midnight. But if they didn’t . . . if they didn’t, Cynna would. She was the best, quite literally the best, at what she did. So good she’d been involuntarily recruited by agents of another realm for a while.
She was also about five months pregnant. It should have been seven months, but the time she’d spent in Edge had passed differently from here on Earth.
Rule swallowed. “Thank you.”
Lily glanced at Cullen and got a nod. “I’m off,” she said.
“I’ll keep reading,” he assured her.
Rule frowned. “Wait a minute. Cullen, Lily will need you. You’re going with her.”
“No, I’m not.”
“I do not need a babysitter.”
“Shut up, Rule,” Cullen said gently. “I’m not much help, I know, but you’re stuck with me.”
Lily put it another way. She came up to him, kissed his cheek, and said, “Not a babysitter. A friend. He wouldn’t be much help for me anyway, not until he figures out how to stop a wraith.”
“Like I said”—Cullen jiggled his backpack—“I’ll keep reading.”
Lily reached for the door—and Rule spun the other way. He’d heard the back gate—and now footsteps in the yard. Running. Someone light or small. Child-size. He was at the back door by the time a small fist started pounding on it.
He jerked it open. “Talia!”
The girl turned a frantic, teary face up toward him. “She’s got Toby! The bad one, the one who made th-the wraith. The Baron told me.”
Lily came up behind him. “The Baron?”
She nodded jerkily. “Yes, h-he’s not a ghost. Well, he sorta is, only he’s different, and he understands things here more than ghosts usually do, and he’s really clear, not wispy at all. But only part of what he said made sense.”