Linda fell into step next to her. With a quick side glance, Eve reconfirmed what she’d noted before. Linda’s hair was beautifully, perfectly cut. Her camisole was silk and her leather sandals were Manolos—identical to a pair Eve had at home. The girl was wealthy, but attending a small college in Utah. Eve doubted the production company paid enough to keep her in style, especially considering the lack of a professional camera crew. Had she been born into money? If so, what fueled the desire to hang out in dumps like this with other students far below her social class?
The questions weren’t goaded by curiosity. Eve had to learn what Linda’s hot buttons were and which ones would get the college kids to pack up and go home.
“I love what you’ve done with the place,” Linda said when they entered the house.
Eve wrinkled her nose. She didn’t know whether it was a trick of the mind or not that she still smelled Reed in the empty space. She looked again for her gun, knowing that its presence would be difficult to explain, but it wasn’t visible from a cursory inspection.
“I can imagine how cute these homes were once upon a time,” she said. “The bones are here—the hardwood floors, the picture windows, even the sea-foam-colored tiles in the bathroom are worth keeping. But neglect has done a number on them, I’m afraid.”
“And the bugs.” Linda shuddered. “These homes should be condemned.”
“I’m really surprised they put you up here instead of in the guest quarters.”
“Billeting for guests is on one of the annexes; they don’t have anything here at McCroskey. And they don’t take pets.”
“Gotcha.” Heading toward the kitchen, Eve crossed her fingers and hoped there wasn’t anything lying around that would incriminate them or arouse suspicions. She was relieved to find only an ice chest in the spot where a refrigerator should be.
“Are you leaving?” Linda asked.
Eve turned and found the brunette looking down at the pile of backpacks and duffels. “Gadara would like to,” she admitted, “but I’m still hoping to talk him out of it. I think we still have a lot to learn here.”
“Well, I hope you stay, and I hope you’ll come with us tonight.”
“Problem is,” Eve said with regret, “if we stay longer, I don’t think you’ll be able to film in Anytown.”
“We’ll just have to work something out,” Linda said determinedly. “We have to leave tomorrow for the Winchester Mystery House. We’ve been granted permission to film some night footage there, but only tomorrow night. Who knows when we’ll be back out this way? And honestly, I know having Mr. Gadara on the show would boost ratings. Television is all about ratings, you know. We’re not getting rich off Ghoul School, but it does fund things we would otherwise have to forgo.”
Moving to the sink, Eve washed her hands using the foaming hand wash she’d put there the previous evening. She ripped a paper towel off the roll by the sink, then faced the cooler. She approached it cautiously, unable to stop imaginings of decapitated body parts inside.
“You look like you’re expecting something to pop out of there,” Linda teased.
Freddy padded over. I’m ready. No worries.
Eve winked at him. “This cooler wasn’t here earlier. Who knows if the cheese is moving or the bologna has gone bad.”
I’ll take them.
“Is bologna ever good?” Linda queried with an exaggerated shudder.
I think it’s delicious.
“I like it fried.” Eve pushed the lid open the rest of the way and peered inside. A variety of beverages, both canned and bottled, were nestled in a soup of melted and semimelted ice. So was a small bag of Styrofoam bowls. Leftovers from the long road trip the day before. “There’s soda and water. Are you thirsty?”
“Water would be great.”
Ditto.
Grabbing three bottles and the bag of bowls, Eve knocked the lid back down with her elbow and handed a water to Linda. Then, she filled a bowl and set it down on the floor for Freddy.
“So, when will you know if you’re staying?” Linda asked.
“We’re waiting for Gadara to get back from a meeting with the post commander.”
There was a pause as they all drank, then Linda said, “Honestly, this place gives me the creeps.”
“You hide it well.”
Isn’t she a gem? The others freak out, but not Linda. She’s always got it together.
“I’m left-brained,” Linda explained. “My imagination is dull and boring, so I don’t think about zombies chasing me or mass murderers leaping out of dark corners. I don’t believe locations can be haunted by those who once occupied them. People once lived here, and now they don’t. It’s just that simple. That’s why the vibe from this place really bothers me.”
“You say that,” Eve smiled to soften the sting of her words, “but if you didn’t believe at all, why would you dedicate so much time to researching the validity of other people’s claims?”
“I don’t believe, but people close to me do.”
“So you want to prove them wrong?”
“I want to help.”
“I’m intrigued.” And hopeful that there was an exploitable hot button in the story somewhere.
Linda set her half-full bottle on the counter. “Do you have any siblings?”
“A sister.”
“Are you close?”
Eve nodded. “She’s younger, but she married before me and has two beautiful children. She lives out of state, so I don’t see her as much as I’d like to, but we talk often and she sends lots of pictures.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“And you?”
“Only child. But I had a best friend who was like a sister to me. We were inseparable until after high school. I was all set to go to college; Tiffany joined the Army.”
“Brave girl.”
“Practical. Her parents died when she was young and joining the military was the only way she was going to get college money.” Linda sighed. “When word came back that she was killed in action, I was devastated. My grades suffered. I dropped out of school. My boyfriend and I broke up. Everything fell apart.”
“I’m sorry.”
Linda accepted the condolences with a grim nod. “Have you lost someone close to you, Eve?”
“I recently lost my neighbor, who was also a dear friend.”
“Then, perhaps you can understand how difficult it was to learn that Tiffany wasn’t dead at all.”
Eve frowned. “You lost me.”
“It was all a great big cover-up, including a letter from the Department of Defense and a military-provided funeral service.” Her voice hardened. “I should have known something was wrong when they couldn’t produce a body.”
“Why would the government fake her death?”
Freddy moved from his spot by the cooler to sit at Linda’s feet. She stroked the top of his head with a distracted rhythm. “I don’t know for sure why they did it, but my guess is that she was exposed to some whacky chemicals out in the desert. Something that really messed with her head and they didn’t want us to find out about it because of the scandal that would ensue.”
“But you figured it out?” Eve suddenly had an inkling of what she must sound like to Reed when she went off about Gadara being shady.
Linda nodded. “My parents took me to Europe in the Spring, hoping the change of location would help my grief. We weren’t there a week before I spotted Tiffany at a bakery in Münster, Germany. I called out her name, but when she caught sight of me, she ran. I’ve never seen anyone move that fast until you. Today.”
Eve shifted her gaze away to avoid revealing her dawning unease.
“Fact was, Tiff wanted us to believe she was dead. Whether she was protecting her grandmother and me, or the government, or all of us . . . I have no clue. It took me a week to track her down after that incident in the bakery. I looked for her everywhere, haunting the neighborhood until I finally spotted her again. She didn’t run that time. She knew I wouldn’t let it go. I’m too stubborn.”
“What was her explanation?”
“She swore she had been chosen by God to save mortals, like Joan-of-f**king-Arc or something. She said there were demons among us, hunting us, and it was her mission to kill them.”
Eve reached out to the counter to steady herself. “Yikes.”
“That’s an understatement,” Linda muttered. “She was completely delusional, pointing at normal people and saying they were evil, that she could smell their souls rotting. She saw marks and tattoos on her skin that weren’t there. She said I couldn’t see them because I’m not one of the chosen.”
“Lucky you,” Eve said sincerely.
Someone has to fight the good fight.
Eve wrinkled her nose at Freddy.
Just sayin’.
“Tiff could tell I didn’t buy a word she was saying. I begged her to come home with me. I told her how much her grandmother missed her. How much I missed her. I promised to help her get back on her feet. But she wouldn’t budge. She said it was better if she was dead to us, because the demons would hurt us if they thought they could get to her that way. She said the only thing I could do was believe. ‘When you believe,’ she said, ‘then I’ll come to you for help.’ ”
“Wow.”
“No kidding.” Linda straightened. “I never saw her again after that. We stayed in Germany another two weeks, but she didn’t contact me at the hotel, even though I gave her the information. I came back to the States and hired a private investigator to find her, but he never did. Sometimes I wonder if I dreamed up the whole conversation in some sort of grief-induced delirium. Then I remember that I have no imagination. I couldn’t make that stuff up. So I’ve been trying ever since to believe her, or at least give the impression that I believe her. I have a blog detailing our investigations, hoping she’ll find it and realize I am trying. I figure the show is another way to reach Tiff, too.”
“You’re a good friend.”
Eve couldn’t help but consider her own obligation to Mrs. Basso. Her friend and neighbor had died because of Eve’s connection to her. What had she done since then to justify that sacrifice? Nada, aside from making a sorry, half-assed attempt at going through the motions. She was shamed to realize how little she’d done to honor the memory of such a wonderful woman.
Shrugging, Linda said wearily, “I wouldn’t go that far. Tiffany always did more for me than I did for her and that hasn’t changed. Because of her I began researching paranormal investigations, which is how I met Roger. I think he’s the love of my life. And we receive letters every week telling us how much Ghoul School helped someone in one way or another. It’s very rewarding.”
Eve wondered where Tiffany was now. Was she still alive? Was she still marked? “What’s her last name?”
“Tiff’s? Pollack. Tiffany Pollack.” Linda polished off her water and screwed the top back on. “I need to take a nap or I’ll be worthless tonight. Thank you for the water.”
“Any time.” Eve smiled. “Or at least as long as we’re here.”
Linda hooked her thumbs through the belt loops of her shorts and smiled. With the empty water bottle tucked between the palm of one hand and her hip, she looked like a Wild West sheriff with gun at the ready. “I will be seriously disappointed if you don’t join us tonight, you know.”
“I’m still working on Gadara,” Eve said, “but you can count on me tagging along if you end up going.”
Her mind was set; she wasn’t leaving McCroskey without Linda, Roger, Freddy, and the rest of the GS gang. Not unless she knew—without a doubt—that it would be safe to leave them behind.
“Oh, we’re going,” Linda insisted. “This is the first time a military installation has requested our services. We wouldn’t miss it.” Linda did a little victory hop. Then she hugged Eve. “You won’t be sorry, and I will be eternally grateful. Whether Mr. Gadara comes or not.”
“I can’t say I’ll be good for anything more than screaming inconveniently,” Eve warned. “Anytown gives me the chills in the daylight.”
And that was before Molenaar had been killed there.
“I’ll protect you from the bogeyman,” Linda promised with a wink. “Don’t worry.”
“Keep her safe for me, Freddy,” Eve said, giving the Great Dane a quick rub behind the ears.
He woofed in reply. Watch your back, too.
Eve gave him the thumbs-up. Then she followed them into the living room to resume the search for her gun.
CHAPTER 13
Alec was exiting the bathroom when his cell phone rang. He sprinted the short distance to the bed where he’d tossed it. Glancing at the caller ID, he winced.
“Shit.” He ran a hand through hair he’d just finished dousing in the sink, an ineffectual attempt to cool off his raging temper. He was ready to kill. Starting with Abel.
The last person he wanted to deal with was . . .
“Sarakiel,” he bit out before the phone reached his ear.
“Sorry, mon chéri,” Sara purred. Forbidden to use her archangel gifts at God’s suggestion, she relied heavily on the power of her feminine wiles to make up the lack. “I can hear your disappointment, and I do sympathize. Your brother has not been answering his phone, so I, too, have been waiting to speak with someone.”
He really didn’t give a shit about Sara’s issues with his brother, but that wasn’t something he could say to an archangel arbitrarily. It wasn’t her fault that he was infuriated by the distance between him and Eve, and the closeness he sensed between her and Abel. He was confused by the singular connection between all three of them. How common were such meldings? How long did they last? What were the ramifications?