“The porch was new. Isabelle had no reason to think it would be unstable. Whoever is behind this, they managed to speed the termites along.”
“Could you do that?”
Andi got a faraway look. Not because he was connecting but because he was thinking hard. “Yes. Though it’s madness. Diving in so deep to kindle their hunger, to be their hunger—I can’t imagine how I would come back from that.”
“Does this mean the person doing this is stronger than you?” It was a sobering thought. And an alarming one. They had thought Andi’s geschenk was rather unique. Finding out there was somebody else out there who might even be stronger and who apparently had no problem using their connection to kill was not on George’s list of pleasurable things to do.
“Not necessarily though possible. The images imprinted in the arthropods that are still around are chaotic like a stream of consciousness. Whoever did this either didn’t care to constrain themselves to the termites or wasn’t able to. Given how jumbled everything is, how chaotic it was with the hornets and spider, I’m fairly sure the person is much farther gone than me.”
George didn’t like the sound of that. Not because of the implications regarding their potential killer but how Andi viewed himself. “You’re not gone at all.” He tried to inject as much confidence in his tone as possible. It didn’t seem to be too successful because Andi showed him that half-smile he used when he tried to placate George.
“We both know I’m slipping down a steep hill, George. The only reason I’m still doing something resembling a controlled walk is you.”
“No! Don’t underestimate yourself. You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself before I came along. You still are. I hate that you can’t see your own strength, dear.”
“Strength that is waning. Sometimes I feel like Yggdrasil with the dragon Nidhogg constantly gnawing at its roots. One day, I won’t be able to regrow faster than Nidhogg feasts and then the end is near.” If it weren’t for the hint of despair in Andi’s voice, George would have made a joke about his knowledge of Viking lore, or at least that was what George assumed it was. He’d never heard of Yggdrasil or Nidhogg before but the names sounded Nordic, at least to his ears that had been schooled by watching Vikings.
“You’re no longer alone. I will help you re-grow your roots.” He drew Andi into a hug and kissed the top of his head. The physical closeness assured him that Andi was still here, still part of the world George knew, the only world accessible to him, and he needed that more than he wanted to admit to himself. Andi slung his arms around George’s waist and then rested his head on George’s shoulder in a gesture so full of trust it took George’s breath away and elated him at the same time. There was still hope for Andi, still hope for both of them. Because as much as Andi might dread being left one day by George, George had the same fear living in his chest, only he knew that when Andi left, he would be truly gone, and that George could not accept.
CHAPTER 14
CLUES WITHOUT CONTEXT
When they were back in the car, still under the scrutiny of several suspicious neighbors, George started tapping on the steering wheel. “Do you want to check out Suzie’s place as well? Or is that something we shelve for tomorrow?”
Andi suppressed a smile at the roundabout way George was inquiring about his state of mind. It sent a rush of warmth down his spine. “I’d say we do it now then go back to the hotel and look at our evidence. As far as you can call it evidence.”
“Well, we’ve made a step in the right direction. Not a pleasant direction, mind you, but forward.” George started the car. “Can you type the address in?”
“On it.” Andi tapped the touchscreen in the middle of the Escalade’s console, waiting for the GPS to load. Suzie had lived in another residential area close to Fernwood, about four miles east of downtown Spartanburg. Like Isabelle’s neighborhood, it was a far cry from the place where Rosalie and Tammy Byrnes lived. Everything in this part of town seemed to be cleaner, better groomed, there was hardly any litter on the ground, only a piece of food wrapping or a tissue here and there, likely fallen out of bags unnoticed instead of deliberately dropped because here even the litter bins gave the impression of cleanliness. Suzie’s home was small, quaint, and within the range of what one expected of the salary of a caretaker and a mechanic with no children to care for. They hadn’t thought of contacting Tucker Monahan, Suzie’s husband, and he wasn’t home. Again, there were curious neighbors, though not as many as at Isabelle’s place, because there seemed to be more working folk here than retirees. Since they didn’t need to be in the house, they just stayed at the front door, and Andi opened his connection to the arthropods in the vicinity. Once he had found the death of Suzie—a major event for the garden dwellers—the by now familiar thought structures of something other invaded his mind.
Evil, evil, must die, stealing bitch, she had no right, evil, meanie, has to go, get rid of her, danger to the nest, the queen, kill, kill, kill, meanie, evil.
“Andi? Dear?” He felt George’s warmth on his shoulder, his breath on his face after it had passed his ear shell.
“I’m here. We can add Suzie to our list. Whoever is doing the killing is straightforward at least. I got the clear intention, same with the others.”
“Still no idea who it could be?”
“No.” Andi wasn’t sure he wanted to know. The impressions he got didn’t instill hope that the person was sane. Which was a pity. Even though they were a killer, Andi would have loved talking to somebody who knew what it was like being part of more than one world. He definitely had no desire whatsoever to witness his own future in the fate of a stranger. He’d had enough of that when he was in Bavaria with his oma. So much he wasn’t looking forward to. At least the cantankerous old dragon had never killed anybody as far as Andi knew.
Does that make her better than you? The nagging voice at the back of his mind managed yet again to throw him off balance. Because Andi had killed with his geschenk. It had been to save Tyler Norris, an innocent child, from a serial killer, so technically, Andi could claim it had happened in the course of duty, no different from pulling the trigger on a perp, but deep down, he knew it was different. By instrumentalizing his geschenk, he had opened a door that couldn’t be shut again. Firearms were another matter because you could put the safety on, store them away in a safe, refuse to use them, even forget about their existence, when you put enough energy into it. The geschenk had no safety. It couldn’t be stored in a safe. He couldn’t refuse to use it the same way he couldn’t refuse to breathe, which made forgetting it impossible. No, he had a debilitating weapon in his hand, and by using it, he had made it even more dangerous to himself and to others. Perhaps his oma had been on to something after all. Perhaps her restraint had been the reason for her unpleasantness. Andi would never know because the dead didn’t talk to him in that way.
“Andi?”
“Huh?”
“Do we think the killer has a connection to the victims or is this random?” George’s eyes were on the street where the Escalade was parked.
“Common sense says it has to be random. The victims have no tangible connection as far as we know. At first glimpse.”
“At first glimpse. My gut says this is more.” George was massaging Andi’s shoulders with soft pressure. It felt so good that Andi wanted to melt into a puddle.
“My gut says the same, which means we have to find out everything we can about them.”
“Yay, Shireen is going to be so happy.”
“Yeah. We need to tell Officer Kaustrowitz to ask Tucker Monahan to talk to us.”
