“Better you than me.” Captain Cicely spread her hands, her rings flashing in the overhead light. “As for the third issue… I’m afraid I wish I was more useful. Huxley is…”
“I know,” I agreed even though Captain Cicely hadn’t said anything definitive. Pushing out of my chair, I said, “I’ll contact Boone. He finally fell asleep about five a.m. I’d like to give him a little more time. In the meantime, I’ll see if I can start working on getting the dental records of the four names we do have. You and I both know that the system will want evidence backing up whatever Boone finds out.” He could bring their souls back and give me the names that matched the bones currently sitting in the morgue, but we’d need to verify those identifications with cold hard facts.
“Let me know what you find. And, O’Hare, I meant what I said about getting some quality rest. You’re no good to anyone when you’re running on fumes. You hear me?” The last was more threat than true question.
“I’ll try.” It was the best I could currently offer.
“Ugh.” I probably shouldn’t find Boone’s scrunched nose as cute as I did. “This is a very loud and unhappy bunch.” Boone shifted from foot to foot. I’d finally convinced him to stop wearing his flip-flops into the morgue. Not that I found his comfy-casual way of dressing truly unprofessional, but the morgue was cold, and Boone chilled easily. He needed better coverage on his feet. The tattered tennis shoes covering his feet at least hid a pair of warm socks.
I watched Boone reach into his pocket, and the instant easing around his eyes let me know he’d activated one of his pops’s pain charms.
“Thank you for coming in today, Necromancer Boone,” Dr. Stowe politely said.
“Erasmus,” Boone corrected, making Dr. Stowe smile.
“You’d think I’d do a better job dropping the formality considering all the times I tell Detective O’Hare to call me Evelyn.”
Boone released a soft chuckle. “Yeah, don’t hold your breath on that one.”
Dr. Stowe’s answering laughter lightened the mood. “Noted. That would be a terrible reason for another ME to have to write up on my death certificate.” Dr. Stowe’s smile dissipated as she walked toward the tables holding the male victim’s bones. “Dealer’s choice. Where would you like to start?”
Boone looked to me, a single eyebrow raised. “Do you have a preference?”
I started to shake my head in the negative but thought better of it. I pointed toward the remains we thought were Clinton Baxter’s. “How about this one.”
Boone shifted closer. His green eyes lit from within as he tapped into his necromancer powers. Eyes briefly slipping closed, Boone’s head tilted from side to side before he said, “Gotcha. Clinton Timothy Baxter, I call your soul back to your body.”
It was the name I expected so why did Boone’s confirmation make my heart sink like lead?
Baxter’s bones rattled, vibrating as if the earth were shifting. They settled right before his voice became clear. Dr. Stowe and I were both recording.
“What the fuck’s goin’ on? Where the hell am I?” Just a few words and I could already peg Clinton Baxter as an arrogant ass.
Boone cringed. I’d worked enough cases with him, been around when he’d brought souls back, to know that some of them left more than a bad taste. Boone said thebadones coated his insides like tenacious tar. I hated that I was the one inflicting this kind of discomfort on him. Boone wouldn’t be doing this if not for me.
“Clinton Timothy Baxter, Detective Franklin O’Hare has some questions for you. You will answer honestly.” I felt the push of Boone’s necromancer power when he gave that command.
“And just who are you?” Baxter asked, that same cocky, conceited tone coloring his voice.
Boone smirked. “I’m the necromancer currently holding the future of your soul in his hands. Now, if you’d be so kind, please pay attention and answer Detective O’Hare’s questions.” Boone glanced my way, giving me the go-ahead nod.
I wasn’t certain if I was surprised or not by Baxter’s silence. A lot of bullies folded when confronted with true power.
“Mr. Baxter.” I started off polite and respectful. “Do you remember what happened to you prior to your death?” Considering Boone had introduced himself as a necromancer, Ifigured if there were any lingering questions as to the state of his body, Clinton Baxter now understood his earthly existence was over.
The silence continued, and I was concerned Boone would need topushBaxter a little more. Considering that would only deplete Boone’s energy levels faster, I truly hoped that wouldn’t be the case. Thankfully, it wasn’t.
“So I’m really dead?”
Much of Baxter’s earlier bravado vanished. “I’m afraid that’s the case.”
“Fuck.” That word was a little breathless. There was another pause before he asked, “What about Clarissa?”
Everyone in the room perked up. “What do you mean?”
Baxter huffed. “She’s my girl. Does she know? Is she upset?”
Dr. Stowe, Boone, and myself shared a collective look. I considered my next words carefully and decided to push Baxter a little. “I was under the impression that Clarissa broke things off.”
