The music ended and Pinchot said, “We have a match.”
My heart fell to my knees at her words.
“Do you have a name?” the tech asked.
“Affirmative.” I cleared my throat. “Missing teenager. The clothing belongs to Zebulun Nicholson. I’ll make sure the family is notified of the possibility of his…being in imminent danger, and PsyLED will also issue a BOLO.” A BOLO was a law enforcement term for “Be on the lookout for.”
“Is he young enough for an Amber Alert?” she asked.
I went blank on Zeb’s exact age. “I’ll check. Probably.”
“Go for it. I’ll make a note that PsyLED Eighteen is handling notifications.”
“And, if necessary, may we bring in a tracking animal to sniff the clothing to help us track the kid? Would you allow a sniff test?”
“In the lab? I think it would be fascinating. I’ll run it by my boss. Give me a number and I’ll get back to you.”
I gave my number, ended the call, and slanted a look at Occam. “Family before work,” I said. “The clothing matched what Zebulun was wearing when he took off.”
“There’s no proof that fangheads have your half brother. If he was with a group of homeless boys, they may have scattered.”
“Yes. But I know what law enforcement thinks about coincidences. The vampires may have stumbled on the devil dogs when hunting for blood donors. They may have stumbled on plant-people when Ming sent them our way, chasing the Blood Tarot. But however they found us, they surely know my kin are different, just by the taste of the blood. And if Zeb was being tortured, he could have sent them our way, all on his own. You know, ‘Stop hurting me and I’ll tell you about my half sisters.’ ”
Occam pulled into the parking lot of HQ and idled the truck. “Your family kept records, even during the Inquisition. We should be wondering if some or all of them fell into the hands of Torquemada back then. Maybe following the case with Jackson and the church and the FBI, someone went looking at Vatican records.”
“I’ve heard different stories about the family and religious persecution. And the Inquisition was here in this hemisphere as well as in Europe. But Mama says my ancestors were mostly in the mountains here by the time Torquemada showed up. I’ll tell you later. Right now, I need to read my land deeply, to see if I can find any traces of the souls of the priests. There was one time the land couldn’t digest a soul without a lot of help from me. I have to wonder if it’s having trouble now.”
Occam held out his hand and I took it. His fingers were warm, werecat-warm, and wrapped around mine. My woody nails were hidden in the shadows, which was good.
“We’ll report in, finish up written reports,” he said, turning off the truck. Occam leaned over and plucked two leaves from my hairline. I accepted them and tucked them into a pocket. “Then we can call your family, have them issue the necessary alerts, and go pick up Mud. I’ll fix supper while you read the land.”
* * *
Occam elected to lope from Esther’s to the house, start a fire in the Stanley stove firebox, and get things started for the evening meal, leaving the truck for Mud and me to pile her stuff in later and crawl up the hill at ice-speeds. I also figured he planned to run on alone to avoid my prickly sister. I couldn’t say I blamed him.
As the truck cooled, Mud opened Esther’s door, letting out Cherry, and I watched her run up to Occam and gambol around. Satisfied the puppy was going for a run with my cat-man, I entered the madhouse that was Esther’s home.
My half brother left the house as I entered and nodded at me before he got in his beat-up truck to drive away. His expression said he wouldn’t be back anytime soon if he could help it.
Inside, I put on tea. I took over changing a very stinky baby, burping Noah, rechanging his newly wet diaper, and putting him down for a sleep. After pretreating the diapers in the toilet, I put a load of cloth diapers in the washer to soak with Clorox and homemade laundry soap. Mopped up a spill in the kitchen. Changed another very dirty diaper from Ruth and went through the process again, this time agitating the diapers a bit before letting them soak longer. I removed dry clothes from the dryer, dumped them on the kitchen table, removed the dirty sheets from all the beds, put them in an empty laundry basket for the next wash, folded the clean clothes, and put them away before putting fresh sheets on the beds.
My sisters worked around me in the too-small space, chatting about the weather, asking about how the townies were doing, talking about the “wonder chicken” that was still laying two eggs a day, even during the shorter days and the colder weather, and the black snake Mud had carried from the henhouse to a hole in a tree. She had also carried some chicken straw to keep him alive. Black snakes ate poisonous snakes and rats and were mighty handy to have on any farm of any size, but not when they got into a coop. Snakes in a coop got lazy and fat eating eggs.
I listened and felt the cares of the day fall from my shoulders. Even my worry about Zeb eased in the warmth and familiarity of chores and true sisters and babies.
“Tea’s ready,” Esther said, taking down mugs from a tall shelf. Mud got out honey. I sat with them, unfolded clothes in my lap. As one, we all blew out a hard breath and grinned. “Thank you,” Esther said.
“My complete pleasure.” I sipped and nodded at the taste. It was an herbal, with rose hips and dried apples and chamomile. “Mud, is this yours?” I asked.
“Yup. I’m’a call it Baby’s Finally Asleep tea when I sell it tothe townie women. I’m’a whisper to them it’s even better with a shot a wine in it.”
I spluttered into the tea.
“Not enough to hurt a nursing baby,” Mud said, indignant. “Jist a tablespoon.”
“Don’t laugh,” Esther said. “She’s right. Ohhh, my feet hurt.”
Some people said even a trickle of alcohol could hurt a nursing baby, but the two were spouting church wisdom. “Mmmm,” I said, changing the subject. “I noticed when I drove up you’re a little low on firewood. I’ll remind Sam to split more tomorrow and pick up some chicken feed. You need anything else from the feed and seed store?”
