"That is...unfair."
"Can barely get the word out, huh?"
Patrick settled back in his seat. "You're the one who is so upset about me failing to play a role in my son's life. Now that I am, you're angry with me. You need to make up your mind, Liv."
She hit the brake so hard he was grateful for the seat belt, though he still might have bruises later.
"Out," she said.
"It's not your car."
She steered to the curb, yanked the gearshift into park and got out. The door slammed. The trunk opened. A clatter as she took something out. Patrick envisioned Liv marching around to the passenger door with a shotgun. Instead she marched past with a parcel under her arm.
He took off after her. As soon as his door shut, she lifted the key fob and hit the lock mechanism without turning around. He jogged to catch up.
"You do remember that I carry a gun, I hope," she said, and he had to smile. It wasn't as dramatic as pulling a shotgun on him, but still...
"About the case," Patrick said. "I have reason to believe it's actually a ghost."
"Well, duh."
"I'm quite serious, Liv."
"So am I. Sure, there's a possibility it's not, but all signs point in that direction."
"No, I mean it really is a ghost."
She glanced over her shoulder at him, brows knitting. "Did I miss something? Because from what Gabriel said, you've been arguing that all along. He thought it was a fae, posing as a ghost, and you're the one who claimed it was an actual ghost."
"Yes, but..." He looked up and down the quiet street. "Where are we going?"
She lifted the parcel.
"I don't see a post office," he said.
"It's another block. I was getting fresh air. The kind that doesn't reek of hobgoblin."
"You should be glad I appreciate your humor, Olivia. I wouldn't put up with that from anyone else."
"It has nothing to do with my sense of humor and everything to do with the fact that I am Matilda. I'm useful to you, and you're useful to me. But I think the balance weighs in my favor, and right now, yes, I'm pissy about you doing an end run around me to pester Gabriel with a pointless case."
They turned the corner. And there was the post office. Patrick waited on the sidewalk until she returned and then fell in step beside her. They walked in silence for a while, then he said, "I need you to do me a favor."
She laughed. He waited until she'd finished. It took a while.
"I would consider it a large favor, Liv," he said. "Which means a large favor owed in return. And I'm counting my help with Tristan as a freebie."
"No one asked you to help with Tristan."
"Gabriel came to me for advice on dealing with a spriggan."
"Okay, great. I'll let him know that you consider that a favor owed, which means he will never bother you for advice again."
"My reference help--for either of you--is freely given."
Another laugh. Almost as long. Then she said, "It's not freely given when you keep reminding us of that. And it's not freely given when it helps position you as an ally to both Matilda and Gwynn."
"I want you to tell Gabriel that you're no longer interested in this case."
She looked over. "The case you gave him?"
"Just tell him that you hit a dead end. You found a snag in the theory. You uncovered evidence to suggest it's all a scam. I'll make up the story. You only need to convey it."
"So...lie to him. Awesome. Because he deals so well with me withholding information that he's bound to be even happier if I outright lie. Should I tell him you aren't his father, too? That if he hears anything to the contrary, just ignore it?"
"You're free to tell Gabriel that I'm his father, Liv. I'm happy to give you that."
Her glare sent a chill through him. "You mean you're happy to lay that responsibility on me."
They reached the car. She strode to the driver's side. He waited for the click of the door lock and jumped in before she could stop him.
"I don't want you pursuing this case," he said. "I'm worried about both of you."
She pulled the car from the curb. "Do I dare ask why?"
"Because it's a ghost."
She growled under her breath.
"It's a real ghost," he said. "Yes, I know I told Gabriel it was. But I was... Well, I lied. I'm a bocan. We do that."
"You lied about--?"
"You were right. I wanted an excuse to get to know him better. I brought him this case because I knew it would interest him, and I thought we could work together on it."
"Didn't quite turn out that way, did it?"
Patrick sighed. "No."
"Because Gabriel doesn't work with anybody. Which you'd realize if you knew him."
"He works with you. He trusts you, and you have his best interests at heart, which is why I'm opening up here and confessing that, yes, I tried to get to know my son better, and if that's a crime--"
"It should be."
He gave her a look, but she said, "I'm serious. I think there should be a statute of limitations for absentee parents. Once the kid hits eighteen and no longer needs you, you are forbidden from making contact and fucking up his life."
"Fucking up? I know you're angry, Liv, but I have done nothing of the sort."
"No? Bringing him a fake story just to get his attention? Leading him on a wild goose chase with it? And then, once he's intrigued, telling me to stop him. Because Gabriel and I are on such good terms right now. There's no way that could possibly blow up in my face."
"I'm just worried--"
"About this ghost. Why? What's dangerous about ghosts?"
"I don't know. Which is why they're dangerous."
She made that noise again, the one that warned this conversation better improve or he'd find himself flying out of a moving vehicle.
"I don't know anything about ghosts, Olivia," he said. "That is troubling enough. And this one gives me a bad feeling. A very bad feeling."
"Then tell him that."
"He'll think I have an ulterior motive."
"Wow. Really. I don't know why." She pulled up in front of Gabriel's office greystone and tapped the horn. "I'm not quitting this case, Patrick. I can't--not without Gabriel thinking I'm being petty and bratty, still upset over what he did."
"You are still upset over what he did."
"No, I'm resigned. This is what I get with Gabriel. This is what I will always get. I'm the idiot who keeps doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. I've finally learned my lesson. That doesn't mean I'm abandoning him. I'm just easing away."
"He doesn't want you to ease away, Liv."
"Don't."
"I just--"
"You do have an ulterior motive here. Gwynn is the Tylwyth Teg champion. You're Tylwyth Teg. So don't even go there. My point is only that I don't want to make things worse between Gabriel and me, which I will if I drop this case. If you want it dropped"--she put down the window--"tell Gabriel yourself."
A shadow stretched through the driver's window. "Tell me what?"
Liv got out of the car, and Gabriel said, "You can drive."
"No, she's yours."
"You're welcome to--" Gabriel turned as if watching her walk away. "You are coming, aren't you?"
"Of course. I set up the interview. You aren't stealing my witness. I believe there was also the promise of a mocha."
Patrick winced. Listening to Olivia was like hearing the understudy in the lead actor's role, trying to emulate the original but falling short. It sounded like Liv; it was not Liv. And as Patrick climbed out, he could tell Gabriel knew it.
"You wished to speak to me?" Gabriel said to him.
"I was...I, uh, was telling Liv that you guys need to be careful. With the ghost."
"All right..."
"I don't know much about them, and maybe this research isn't all that important for my book. In fact, I'm thinking of going in an entirely new direction."
"If that is an a
ttempt to avoid paying your bill--"
"I'll pay. I'll write you a check right now. And then you're done. You can get back to your regular work."
Sunglasses covered Gabriel's eyes, but Patrick could still feel them fixed on him. Looking for Patrick's angle, certain he had one. Then Gabriel glanced toward Liv, getting into the passenger seat, and with that Patrick knew he'd lost. Gwynn's Matilda had come home to him, and she wanted this. She wanted the case, and she wanted to work with him. That was enough.
Gabriel opened the driver's door. "Lydia will send your bill along with a report of our findings to date. If you wish to know any further details on our investigation, you will have to ask her to reopen your file, at the agreed-upon rate."
FIFTEEN
GABRIEL
Gabriel and Olivia had arrived at the apartment of one Angela Vogler. Twenty-six years old. Elementary school teacher. Currently home for the summer.
Fourteen months ago, Ms. Vogler had been driving along a rural highway outside of Chicago. She'd been returning to the city after breaking it off with her fiance. Despite her emotional turmoil, she'd stopped upon seeing a young woman at the side of the road. A blonde in a white sundress.
Ms. Vogler was Rose's former client. The one who'd fled after a second session. The one Rose had a prophetic dream about, suggesting Ms. Vogler might be a suicide risk. Yet she was, fourteen months later, still alive and, moreover, had agreed to see them.
As Olivia made the introductions, Ms. Vogler turned to Gabriel and said, "You look like your aunt," with a small smile that suggested this was not cause for alarm. Had it been, Olivia would hardly have linked their story to Rose.
"As I explained on the phone," Olivia said, "Gabriel's aunt, whom you know by her professional name of Rosalyn, has been threatened with legal action. We're hoping to compile enough contrary evidence to convince the plaintiff not to file suit. The best way to do that isn't to gather statements from satisfied customers, but from those who expressed dissatisfaction."
"Like I said on the phone, I wasn't dissatisfied. I just...I decided a psychic wasn't right for me." Her cheeks reddened. "I shouldn't have gone to one in the first place. It's not really my thing." She glanced at Gabriel. "No offense to your aunt. She was super nice. It just wasn't for me."
"I know that Rosalyn contacted you after you left," Olivia said. "Your mother wasn't pleased by that, and we're concerned it could be misinterpreted as a predatory practice. Calling to lure you back."
"No, no. It was clear she was just checking up. My mom can be a bit protective. And psychics really aren't her thing either. But Rosalyn only asked how I was doing, and she never called again. She didn't even bill me for the session I walked out on. I was ready to pay. I can still do that."
"No need," Olivia said. "But we would like to ask a few questions about the nature of your visit. Anything you tell us is in complete confidence. Once we hear your story, we can determine whether the complainant's lawyer might try to call on you as a witness."
Ms. Vogler's eyes rounded. "A witness? In a lawsuit?"
"We're trying to make sure it doesn't go that far," Olivia said. "And if it does, then the more you can tell us, the less likely it'll be that you'll be summoned. Now, we have some idea what you spoke to Rosalyn about, but she wanted to protect your privacy, so we'll need to ask for the full story from you."
Ms. Vogler's version matched what Rose had told Gabriel. She'd come to Rose for reassurance that what she'd seen on the road that rainy night had not been a ghost.
"Which is obvious, right?" Ms. Vogler gave an embarrassed laugh, her hands fluttering. "It just--it seemed so real, and I had to know. I was just..."
"Compelled?" Olivia said.
Ms. Vogler nodded. "Exactly. This overwhelming compulsion to get an answer. To have someone tell me I didn't see a ghost. I know it sounds silly..."
"Unnerving is what I'd call it," Olivia said. "You try to help someone, and she not only took off but tricked you into thinking you saw a ghost. I'd want answers, too. Preferably the kind that said I didn't see a ghost."
Ms. Vogler smiled. "That's it. Except in my case, it wasn't a prank, either. It was a manifestation of my anxieties. That's what my fiance says. He's getting his doctorate in psychology."
"Fiance. Congrats. Rosalyn mentioned you'd had a breakup that night. Is this...?"
"Same guy." Ms. Vogler flushed. "We worked things out."
"Ah, so that was the anxiety being manifested. About the breakup."
"Not...exactly." Ms. Vogler picked at a thread on her skirt. "The breakup was...fallout from other...issues." She turned to Gabriel. "Your aunt helped me see that. Please thank her for it. I was in a predicament. One I wasn't even acknowledging to myself. Let's just say something happened to me, and I hadn't acknowledged it, and I needed to. She helped me do that."
"I'm glad to hear it," Olivia said. "So when you say that the supposed ghost was actually a manifestation of your anxiety, I'm guessing you mean it was your subconscious prodding you to make a decision."
"Yes."
"And prodding you in what way? Did the hitchhiker refer to the incident in question?" Olivia paused, and Gabriel could see her struggling to find a way to tie this to their cover story. "Did you share something with Rosalyn that she failed to pick up on?"
"No, the message wasn't that obvious, which is why I didn't understand it myself. The ghost--or whatever I thought I saw--said I was lost."
That old chill slid down Gabriel's neck, and he heard himself repeating, "Lost?"
Ms. Vogler glanced over. "Yes. She said I was lost, and I had to find my way back on track, and if I didn't..."
The schoolteacher trailed off and swallowed.
"If you didn't?" Gabriel prodded.
"Then I should end it. I should just end it."
SIXTEEN
GABRIEL
"Is this case making any sense to you?" Olivia asked.
They were in a coffee shop. It wasn't one they'd visited before, but Olivia had a sixth sense for them, particularly the trendy sort with comfortable seats, empty at this time of day, as people headed home, having imbibed sufficient caffeine.
Olivia had apparently not imbibed sufficient caffeine--or sugar, having added a brownie to her mocha. Now she alternated between solid and liquid chocolate as she tapped her pen against her notepad.
She had asked a question, but he knew he wasn't supposed to answer. Not yet. She was still working it out herself.
"We have forty years of one very specific type of ghost. Sad Christina who can't find her way home. And then, boom, vengeful-demon Christie." She looked up at him. "This better not be a demon."
"I have no evidence that such a thing exists."
"Excellent. I'll seize on that as proof and totally ignore the fact that, until a few weeks ago, you didn't know ghosts or fae existed either." She wrote "Not a Demon" on her pad and double-underscored it. Then she skimmed her notes. "I'm missing something."
"We both are, because I fully agree that our ghost story has continuity issues."
"So something happens two years ago that sets her on the path to vengeance. Maybe people stopped picking her up? Or someone mocked her and sent her over the edge?" Olivia sighed. "I'm really grasping at straws."
"Then let's focus on the current iteration of Christina Moore. We have two confirmed suicides, both occurring forty-eight hours after their ghostly encounters. Lambert kept telling me he had forty-eight hours to find his way. But he didn't know what that meant."
"Nor did Angela Vogler at first. She only knew that she felt a sense of urgency to resolve her issue. An urgency so strong that she responded by instead trying to prove she hadn't seen a ghost--in other words, no ghost meant no timeline meant no penalty. It seems to only have been after she fixed her problem that she gradually remembered what the ghost had said."
"Yes."
"So Ghost Christina doesn't care about getting home anymore. She's turned her afterlife attention to playing therapist-from-hell.
The ultimate motivational speaker. You have forty-eight hours to fix your life, or you have to take your life. That's some seriously tough love."
"Vengeance is a theme with some of the ghosts on Rose's list. Particularly the sort of vengeance we saw with Lambert. They target men who are unfaithful to their wives, luring them away and then killing them."
"Forever wreaking blind vengeance on the men who betrayed them." Olivia wrinkled her nose. "Male ghosts seek vengeance on whoever wronged them, whether in business, in battle, or in their personal lives. With the women, though? It's all country song, he-done-me-wrong."
"Not in Ms. Vogler's case. I'm presuming that the breakup was precipitated by infidelity on her part. She was either unfaithful or considering it."
Olivia shook her head. "Sorry, counselor. That would be an incorrect interpretation of the facts. She said something happened to her, and refusing to acknowledge it was sending her life into a tailspin. That's not her doing something--it's something being done to her. Physical abuse. Sexual harassment. Assault. Either happening at the time or something she'd recently remembered."
"Like an incident of childhood sexual abuse."
"Right. The memory returns. She tries to deny it. Life goes haywire, culminating in Angela breaking up with her boyfriend for some unrelated reason--fallout from the stress. That would make Angela a victim, not a perpetrator. So Christina is not a vengeance demon."
Gabriel tapped the "Not a Demon" in her notebook. That made her laugh.
"Yep, that covers it. Doesn't explain what we have, though. Why would a ghost target people who need to fix their lives, even if it's not their fault? In the case of Lambert, I'm not even sure there was something wrong in his life. He just wasn't appreciating what he had."
"True."
"But that could apply to people in so many areas of their lives. Maybe the ghost doesn't know what's wrong with these people. Maybe she doesn't even sense that there is something wrong. It's like omens and superstitions. Walk under a ladder, and later that day, stub your toe and, hey, it must have been the ladder."
"In other words, the ghost plants a thought, and her victims determine what it means."
"That's what they are, isn't it? Victims." She tapped her pen against the notebook. "Christina has become a predator. And the best way to catch a predator? Set a trap."
Two minutes of silence passed.