Whiskey Witches - F.J. Blooding (novels to read in english txt) 📗

tugged on the shoulder of his jacket until he rose on his own. The man towered over her. “You’re a stranger to me. You know too much about the paranormal. I’ve got demons running around.”

He didn’t flinch.

Hardened. Huh. “I don’t know who I can trust. You come in when we could really use you, which is convenient, too convenient, and you want me to trust you? Give me something, some reason why I should.”

He jutted his jaw forward for a moment, then nodded. “I have…” He lowered his voice and leaned in so no one else could hear. “I have premonitions. Visions.”

“Of?” she asked just as quietly.

“Death.” He blinked, glancing at his partner and back at Paige. “The strongest ones usually surround you. I don’t know why. I saw all these victims die.”

She couldn’t scoff at him. The Whiskeys weren’t the only family with gifts. “Tell me something not in the files.”

“There’s another victim.” He dipped his head, his lips twisting in disdain. “At the caboose.”

Paige narrowed her eyes. “Details.” The flashing lights of the police cruisers cast sharpened features to his face.

“This one, her name is Stephanie Farsworth. She was crossing the street in front of a witch. I don’t know her name. Her partner—she called him Mike, I think. Or Mark, maybe. He commented on this woman.”

Paige licked her lips, a frown furrowing her brow.

Scott shifted to the side, putting his back to his partner. “Later, Malika broke into the woman’s home, slipped something in her tea, waited until she was dead, put her in one of her own dresses, and brought her out here. Then she sprinkled the conch shells and the runes around, said a chant of some sort, and left.”

That’s how he’d known about them. “And the other victim?”

“Male. Looks are very similar to Mike or Mark or whoever.”

She almost corrected him, but stopped herself. She had to test him, see if he was playing her. He could still be a part of the conspiracy. What could she use? Nothing immediately came to mind.

“Anyway. He could have picked his victim randomly for all I could tell. He choked the man, then propped him against the caboose on the outskirts of town. He left a mirror and a wreath made of wheat.”

Mirror. Divination? Maybe. A wheat wreath? Power and life. What the hell was Jones trying to say with that? She glanced at Agent Forde who watched them out of her peripheral. “Your partner doesn’t know?”

He pulled back with a sigh and shook his head.

“Are you here officially?”

He shrugged. “Technically, you could use our help. We’re here because it’s a case of interest. If you made it official…”

“I’m here as an advisor. Out of jurisdiction.”

She swallowed and walked to Brian, removing her gloves and dumping them on the ground. “According to boy wonder, we have another victim at the caboose.”

Everyone knew the caboose. It guarded the welcome sign heading into town.

“How does he know about it?” he asked, giving the agent in question a good, hard stare.

“Premonition.”

“Do we know for sure?”

She shook her head.

Brian nodded and pulled his phone out of his pocket as he walked away. “Wear your gloves and touch nothing. Paige. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah, Chief. I hear you.” Paige pulled her phone out and tapped on Dexx’s contact.

“Hey,” he answered.

“New bodies. How’s the crime scene?”

“Demon free, and very quiet.” Dexx sounded depressed.

“Good. I need you here.”

“Where?”

“Caboose.”

“Done.”

Before she could end the call, the red phone button disappeared. She touched Scott’s arm, and gestured with her other hand to get Forde’s attention. “Can you stay here with the chief? We got word we might have another body outside town. I’d like to take Special Agent Scott with me.”

Forde gave him a long, pensive look then nodded.

On the way out, Paige grabbed Brian’s attention and hooked her thumb at Forde.

Brian rolled his eyes, but nodded.

They’d made it through the small crowd when Paige remembered she didn’t have her car.

“Here’s mine.”

She raised her eyebrows at him as she walked to the passenger side of the dark sedan he approached. “Are you a mind reader, too?”

“We saw you pull up.”

She raised her chin in acknowledgement then climbed in. “Tell me about these visions of yours. When did they start?”

He turned the key. The car barely made a noise to show it was alive. He put the car in gear and turned it around. “Since my dad died.”

She’d heard of gifts like that. “Did he have premonitions?”

“Not that he said, but there’s a lot about him I never knew.”

“Explain.”

He glanced at her, his lips tight.

“You want me to trust you?”

He pursed his lips and crept past the stop sign. “He left when I was three. So, there’s a lot I don’t know about him. Some stranger came to my apartment one day and told me he’d died. That’s when I first saw them, the visions. You, actually, were the first person I saw.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Me? I’m still alive.”

“You were in a warehouse. A man appeared out of thin air in front of you. But behind you, someone slipped in through a door and killed a homeless guy that had been watching you.”

“What?”

He nodded. “I looked you up after that. I discovered the name of the guy who died. I even found the man who killed the homeless man. Everyone was dead within a month, the killer, the homeless man, the person the killer told. Dead people follow you around, Detective.”

Shock stole her words. How could so many people be dying all around her with her not knowing a thing?

Agent Scott pulled the car around and parked in front of the red caboose. It was nestled within a large garden of flowers beside the welcome sign.

Propped up next to it, standing like a drunk resting, was a man.

“Got an extra set of gloves?”

“Yeah. Why’d the chief tell you not to touch anything?” He reached toward the backseat as she got out of the car.

She got out of the car. She still didn’t know if she could trust him.

His door shut quietly and walked around the front of the car, offering the gloves. “He sounded pretty adamant.”

She took the gloves he offered. “Local procedures.”

He raised his chin, his mouth open. He didn’t buy it.

She didn’t care. Trust was a sword not easily won. She needed to know if she could trust this agent and she didn’t have a lot of time to play. “Balnore, I need you.” She didn’t break step as she continued to the caboose, shining her flashlight ahead of her.

“Did you say something?” Scott asked over his shoulder, sans light.

“Nope.” She slipped the gloves on and stopped in front of the leaning man. “Sir?”

Scott touched the other man’s shoulder with a black-gloved hand. “He’s dead.”

“How can you tell?”

“He…feels dead.”

Paige stepped in closer and checked the man’s pulse. “You’re right.” She flicked her gaze at Scott. “No light.”

“Um.” His mouth opened and he shrugged.

“Peanut,” Balnore said from the car. “I’m in the middle of something.”

Paige turned to the demon and frowned. “The wrong side of an interrogation?”

He flattened his lips. A cut bled across one eye and his cheek was swollen. His shirt was half untucked, his pant leg torn. “I need to get back.”

“Fine.” She took a step toward him. “I need you to tell me what you know about this one.”

Balnore took a staggering step backward. “Jack? He’s clean, Peanut. You can trust him. Besides, you’ll probably need him before this is over.”

First name basis? That meant Special Agent Scott was a person of interest. “What is he?”

“Human.”

“A witch? What’s his gift?”

Balnore dipped his chin and stared at her through his eyebrows. “He sees dead people die before they die. Now, can I go?”

She flicked her fingers and turned back to Scott as Balnore disappeared in a wisp of smoke.

The agent raised his eyebrows. “You summoned a demon to vet me?”

She closed her eyes. “I’ve done it for worse.”

And she had.