“I would. I would find no joy in it, and if you were the only possible victim, then most likely I wouldn’t press,” Boone answered.
“What do you mean?” I could hear the anxiety in Gladys’s voice. “There are others?”
I picked up the thread. “Five other women were found buried in unmarked graves in the same vicinity as you. While younger, there are enough similarities that we are concerned the same person who harmed you also harmed these other women. If that is the case, they could very well still be out there, harming others. They need to be stopped.”
Boone flinched and sucked in a harsh breath. “Dear Gaia, that thought just gutted her.”
“Gladys, we need—”
“He would not do something like that. I raised a good boy. Edwin wouldn’t harm someone else. His anger was all for me, for the things I did when… Edwin would not do that.” Gladys ended on a sure note, as if she’d convinced herself that her son was capable of murdering her but no one else.
Dr. Stowe was at a nearby desk, furiously typing. “Found him. Edwin Jonathon Clark. Thirty-one. Currently living in Montgomery and works at a car repair shop.”
“He would never harm an innocent.” Gladys defended her son.
“And you weren’t innocent?” I questioned.
“Is any mother truly innocent?” Gladys responded, confusing the hell out of me. Boone glanced up at me, eyebrows high on his head, just as perplexed as me.
Boone was the one that answered. “I doubt any soul is as innocent as we’d like to think, but that hardly means they deserve to die an untimely death. And just for the record, ifanyone harmed or even threatened to harm my momma, I’d gut them without a second thought.”
Boone’s love for his mother was a thing of beauty. Their love for each other should be the envy of every parental relationship. Both were just as fiercely protective of the other.
“Then your momma did a much better job than me.” There was so much despair lacing Gladys’s words that I hardly knew what to do with them. “Some sins cannot and should not be forgiven. Necromancer, please release me.”
Boone’s troubled eyes searched mine. The message was clear. He wanted to let this one go, and I couldn’t find it in me to ask him to keep her any longer. “You can bring her back later if needed?” I’m not sure why I asked. I already knew the answer.
“I can.”
“Then let her go for now.”
Relief flooded Boone’s eyes and softened the tight muscles of his jaw. “Gladys Eugenia Clark, I release you. Go in peace.”
Gladys’s trembling bones stilled as her soul returned to somewhere Boone referred to as beyond the veil. I didn’t miss Boone’s shaking fingers as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a lemon Jolly Rancher. I’d seen him expend far more energy before needing a pick-me-up. I suspicioned the quaking wasn’t so much low blood sugar as emotional turmoil.
Bringing back the dead wasn’t everything it was cracked up to be and was about the most unpredictable profession one could choose. Not that Boone had chosen to be a necromancer, but unlike other necromancers, he’d embraced his species instead of shunning it.
I got the feeling Boone was currently questioning those life choices.
Chapter
Seven
Erasmus
“Not what I expected,” Loretta said, her voice somber. “What the hell happened to make that woman believe she deserved to be murdered? By her son no less.”
I sucked on my candy, squeezing out every sugary drop of goodness, hoping that same sugar would take away the bitter taste of Gladys’s soul. It was a lot to ask of a Jolly Rancher.
I shook my head. “I’m not sure. All I can tell you is that she wasn’t lying.” I cringed. “I could feel it. The whole of her soul is saturated with grief, regret, and self-loathing. I don’t know what Gladys feels guilty about, but whatever spurred that feeling, she’s on board with it one hundred and ten percent. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt.” I considered that statement before amending it. “Gladys doesn’t want to think her son could kill anyone but her. She’s fairly confident that’s the case but not one hundred percent sure.” I’d felt the waver in her soul when she considered it.
“Good to know,” Franklin said. His hand rested on the small of my back, his fingers gently kneading into my tense muscles. I’d come into the situation tense, although I think I’d done a commendable job hiding that fact from Franklin. I was stillreeling from my earlier conversation with Aurelia. If I wasn’t a sniveling puddle on the floor by the time we were finished, maybe I’d ask Loretta about what I’d learned. Did she know the first djinn was a witch?
Just because Loretta Cicely was a witch herself didn’t mean she had that kind of knowledge. Witches had done an admirable job purging their grimoires of any hint regarding djinn creation. It was generally accepted that was one of the darkest times in witch history. It was a time their species fiercely regretted and strived to place behind them. Djinn weren’t just a source of fear, but deep regret and embarrassment.
It was more than possible any knowledge regarding Ajita was lost to the living.
“How are you feeling?” Franklin asked. “I’m not questioning your necromancer abilities.”
