Something prickled in the back of my mind, something I couldn’t grasp ahold of long enough to make sense of. Hell, this whole case made no sense.
“Clinton Baxter is missing.”
Becks was quiet for a minute while she processed the name. “The guy Clarissa Peyton blames for her death?”
“One and the same.” I stared at my bouncing pen.
“And that bothers you? Seems like the way a lot of homicide cases go. The prime suspect finds some little hole to crawl into, and it’s up to us to flush them out. Makes him look hella guilty.”
I gave a slow nod. “I can’t disagree with that.”
Becks cocked her head to the side. “And yet something’s bothering you. What is it?”
“He’s not the only one.”
“Not the only one missing?”
“Mm-hmm. Emilio Alverez is also in the wind.”
There was another pause. “Florida?”
I nodded again.
“Okay, but again, he’s probably guilty and took off. It’s no secret he’d be accused.”
“You’re right.”
“But? I’m sensing abutin there.” Becks wasn’t wrong.
“Butsix seemingly unrelated women were found buried within a one-mile radius of each other. Four believe they know who killed them, and local police officers involved seem to agree they are the likeliest suspects. And now at least two of those suspects are missing.” Leaning back in my chair, I stared at the ceiling and asked, “Why in God’s name did we find these six women in our backyard?”
“I don’t know, O’Hare, but somehow I don’t think God had a whole lot to do with it.”
I mentally scolded myself. Becks was a practicing Baptist through and through. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend.”
“None taken. All I’m saying is that no benevolent deity is behind this. Pick your evil poison. Whoever that is, they’ll be the one hiding behind the curtain. It’s our job to not just pull that curtain away but rip it from its moorings and burn it to ashes. Wanna put our heads together and see if we can at least make a tear in the damn thing?”
A low chuckle rumbled through my chest as I scrubbed my hands over my face. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Good. I’ve found a few things about our six ladies. Let me grab my stuff, and I’ll be right back.” Becks rested her hands on my desk, leaning over. “We’ll get who’s responsible, O’Hare.”
I managed a barely there smile. “Yeah, we will. But will it be in time to save the next victim?” And there would be more. I had a football field full of doubts where this case was concerned, but one thing I was certain of: there would be more bodies if we didn’t find and stop the person or persons responsible. The only question was, how many more?
Chapter
Thirteen
Erasmus
“The legal hoops have finally been cleared,” Sheriff Andrews sounded both exhausted and relieved.
“I’m glad to hear that.” I really was. Not only for Opal Veronal’s sake, but selfishly, for my own as well. I was going stir-crazy. It was beyond frustrating being cooped up in the house all day and not even able to work on finding other necromancers. Not that Icouldn’t, but I was afraid to even delve into the list of mothers the Warlock Council had given me for fear that Tenzen Huxley might get his shadowy hands on them and track them down before I could.
I wouldn’t put my fellow necromancers in any more danger than they currently were in. Being born a necromancer already placed a target on our backs. While I still didn’t know what Tenzen wanted with me, none of us thought his motivations were pure.
“When would you like to reschedule?” She tried hiding it, but I could hear Sheriff Andrew’s impatience.
My momentary good mood took a nosedive. Franklin didn’t want me going alone again, but he was buried neck deep in skeletal remains. I wanted to tell the sheriff that I could be therelater today, tomorrow at the latest. Instead, I answered, “I’m sorry, but I need to check a couple of things in my schedule. Can I get back to you?”
