11
“Are you sure?” Gilbert asks.
“Yes.” I flick my eyes to the invite and then back to my phone. “It’s the same number, at least.”
My heart leaps in my chest as I unlock my phone.
“What did he say?”
I narrow my eyes, not sure I understand. “It just says ‘Lebanon, Kansas.’ That’s all.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a town,” I tell him, looking at the text as if some sort of secret message will pop up. “But I don’t know what it’s about.” I stare at the two words for another few seconds and then pull up an internet search. I type in the city and state, shifting through a Wikipedia page, the town’s official website, a government site about Kansas, and maps. “I don’t get it,” I say as I slowly shake my head back and forth. I scroll back to the top of the search and hit the “news” option to display results. The first article is about some local girl being named a division champ of some sort of sport, but the second article…
“Holy shit.”
“What?” all the guys ask together. The stairs creak and Gemma comes down. She was up in her room, but given her nosey nature, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was listening to our conversation. It’s annoying, but I honestly wouldn’t mind too much right now. I wouldn’t have to repeat myself, at least.
“Last week a couple was found in the woods,” I start, feeling my blood pressure rise. “And the cause of death was hypothermia.”
“Frozen hearts?” Jacques asks.
I skim through the article. “It doesn’t say, but they’re ruling the deaths tragic and accidental from exposure.”
“Can you get access to the police reports?” Gemma asks as she joins us. Yeah, pretty sure she was listening the whole time.
“I can,” I say, thinking of a way to get around the lies. “I’ll have to go into work.”
“Funny, isn’t it?” Thomas says. “You don’t reply by the specific time noted on the invitation, and right away you’re sent info pointing you back at the demon that killed your parents.”
I close my eyes and get a flash of my parents’ faces. It’s weird how I can remember the shrillness of my own voice. The way my hands shook when I walked through the house. The sour feeling in my stomach caused by the strong smell of sulfur.
“He’s doing it on purpose.” I open my eyes and feel energy buzzing around my fingertips. I’m pissed.
“So…what now?” Gemma asks. “You don’t think he knows where this freezing-hearts demon is, do you?”
Jacques, being the voice of reason, holds up a hand. “We don’t know if that’s the case yet.”
I nod, trying hard to think rationally and handle this like any other case. “Right. I need to get into the station and call down to the Lebanon department. I’ll say I’m working a similar case and will see if they’ll send me over files.”
“Won’t they think that’s weird?” Gemma asks. “You’re a homicide detective and those people died from exposure, or so they say, right?”
“Yes, but it’s not the first time I’ve looked into something seemingly natural or accidental and found foul play. And given the low crime rate, I might get an eager cop who’s hoping to bust a big crime in that small town.”
“I’m coming with you,” Hasan says, standing. “And the rest of you need to be on guard.”
“I’ll put the book in the box,” I say, standing. “If anything happens…”
“We’ll take to the sky,” Jacques answers. “We won’t let anyone get the book.”
I nod, grab my phone, and head toward the door.
* * *
“You should probably stayin the car,” I tell Hasan. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he says. “One less thing to explain is best.”
