“Did you get the files?” Jacques asks. He’s helping set the table.
“I did,” I say, pulling the papers out of my purse. “I haven’t looked them over yet.” I motion for him to join me at the kitchen counter. I inhale, holding my breath for a moment as I skim over the files. I look so fast I don’t absorb any of the info and have to go back again.
“What does it say?” Gemma says, turning off a burner on the oven. She sets a wooden spoon down and steps over.
“Um,” I start, scanning the report. “They died of hypothermia and had internal frostbite. Specifically in their hearts.” I swallow hard. “The bodies weren’t found for three days and suffered considerable damage from animals. So if the hearts were frozen, they would have thawed, but it sounds like my demon.” I look over the report again. “Nothing from the campsite was stolen. The couple had a detailed inventory of what they brought with them, and almost everything is accounted for.”
“Almost?” Gil asks.
“Some of the food is missing, which is because the couple ate it.” I set the files down, crime scene photos face up. Gemma shudders and looks away, closing her eyes for a few seconds before going back to the oven.
“So we know how, but what we’re missing is a big fatwhy. Do you think the demon could be going after people with magical powers?”
“It’s a possibility,” Jacques says. “Or it could be the demon needed to feed.”
“The bodies weren’t devoured in any sense,” Thomas points out.
“Not all demons feed on the physical body,” Jacques says gently, flitting his eyes to mine. I can’t let myself think about my parents’ souls being devoured. I saw my mother’s spirit. I know it was her…if her soul was eaten, then that wouldn’t be possible.
“What do you mean?” Gemma asks.
“Some demons feed off energy.”
“Not souls?” I blurt, unable to help myself.
“Some do,” he answers almost apologetically. “Though if I were to make an educated guess, it would be this demon is feeding off the heart chakra.”
“That’s pleasant,” I sigh, and put my head in my hands. “So this asshole Mr. Trent is trailing this demon in some way. He’s either got eyes on it physically or has some sort of federal authority and is being notified of cases that involve people freezing to death in mysterious ways.”
“Maybe he’s an FBI agent,” Gemma suggests.
“I suppose he could be. I just…I don’t know, and I hate not knowing.”
Gil comes around the counter and puts his hands on my shoulders, massaging my stiff muscles. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Ace, but you don’t know most things. You’ve got to learn to let it go.”
“You’re right,” I agree, shocking him a little. “And I know my need to control my surroundings comes from a deep void in my childhood and the lack of ability to control what was happening in my life. But this…this is literally my life’s work. The reason I went into law enforcement. I need to solve my parents’ murder. They’d stop at nothing for me.”
Jacques gets up suddenly and hurries out of the kitchen.
“What was that all about?” Thomas asks, watching the spot where Jacques had just stood.
“No idea,” I say, not sure how anything I could have said was offensive in any way. I sigh and turn to the stove. “That smells delicious, what is it?”
“Tuscan chicken with creamy garlic potatoes.”
“Is it almost done?” I ask hopefully.
“Not quite. It has a lot of steps.”
I open my mouth to tell her again that she doesn’t have to go through all this every night—though I almost think she likes having people to cook for—when Jacques comes back into the kitchen holding the case files.
“You said something,” he starts, flicking his eyes to mine for a quick second. “And it made something click.”
“I did?”
He nods and opens the files. My parents’ is front and center. Hastily, he flips it over so I don’t have to see it. “You said your parents would stop at nothing to protect you.”
“Right. I know it.”
