Shadow Moon, page 6
“Hey, Gilbert, you don’t have to do this. I’ve got a friend who works for the government. I could call him and—”
I stopped mid-sentence when Gilbert interrupted me with a snort of irritation. “Will you please stop talking? I’m trying to concentrate.”
An hour crawled by and then another. Gilbert had been going, “Hmmm,” and muttering stuff like, “Wow, that’s weird” and “What the heck?” for friggin’ forever. I know patience is a virtue, but I had a strong suspicion he was drawing the whole thing out and having way too much fun.
Time for Allie to take charge. Time for a little magic.
With only two people present, my only option was TKP. No problem. I had an idea. If I made Gilbert uncomfortable, maybe he’d hurry the hell up. I stepped to the stove and picked up the peppershaker setting on the counter. Just as I suspected, Gilbert didn’t even lift his head. I shook pepper onto the palm of my hand and used TKP to shoot it up Gilbert’s nose.
Gilbert’s head flew back. “AH-AH-AHCHOO!”
He dug a large cotton handkerchief out of his pocket just in time for two follow-up sneezes.
I slid in across from him. “Oh my gosh, Gilbert. Are you coming down with something? Maybe you’re allergic to something in our trailer. Do you want to finish up at home and call me?”
“Nah, I got it. Paper and pencil please.”
I grabbed what he needed from my backpack and shoved them in front of him. Glancing back and forth at the computer screen, he scribbled furiously.
I couldn’t stand it any longer. “What? Did you find her?”
Gilbert held up a finger and kept on writing. I sighed and slumped back in the seat. I was seeing a totally different side of Gilbert. Apparently working with a genius meant I had to leave him alone and shut the heck up.
Finally Gilbert lowered the lid of his computer, probably so I wouldn’t be tempted to jump up and look over his shoulder again. “Karla Ring is dead,” he announced.
“Oh, great,” I muttered. “Now I’ll never find Anna Starr.”
“But, not really.”
“Huh? What are you talking about?”
“Karla’s not really dead.”
“How could she be dead but not really dead?”
“Think about it. If the adoption wasn’t legal, she wouldn’t want to be found. It’s not that hard to fake your own death.”
I tried to wrap my mind around the concept. “So, if she faked her death, she had to come up with a new name and social security number.”
“Right, also, not a problem. She’d need to get the birth certificate for a baby who died but who would have been about Karla’s age if the baby had lived. Karla could then get all the new identification she needed with a birth certificate and no worries about someone claiming identity fraud. I figure she wouldn’t have had a lot of time, and hospital records weren’t as protected back then. So she could have found what she needed right there. I found two possibilities.”
“Makes sense. So, what happens next?”
“Nothing. I found her.”
“Karla?”
“And your sister.” He handed me the paper. It said, Anne Marie Scott, 3267 SE Rancho Mirage Drive, Temecula, California. Parents: Dr. Gregory Scott and Paula Scott. No siblings.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you sure this is her?”
“Oh, it’s her all right. Same birth date and she looks exactly like your mom.”
“What? You have a picture of her?”
“I hacked into her high school website and found last year’s annual. Wanna see? ”
“Well, yeah. Of course I do.”
A few seconds later, I was staring into the face of my twin sister, Anna Starr Emerson, aka Anne Marie Scott. Shiny blond hair framed a heart-shaped face. Bright blue eyes. Crooked little half-smile. No doubt about it. Gilbert was right. She was the exact image of Faye.
“Can I show my mother?” The words almost stuck in my throat.
Gilbert practically threw his body across the computer screen, reinforcing my idea he was doing something highly illegal. “When I get home, I’ll print the picture and give it to Mercedes to give to you.”
“Thanks, Gilbert.” I reached over and patted his arm. “Not just for the picture. For everything.”
He sneezed three more times and packed up his computer. “No problem.”
After Gilbert left, I turned off the lights and curled up on the couch, trying to decide what to do with the information Gilbert had uncovered. Did Anne Marie Scott know she was adopted? Did she know she had a twin sister? If so, would she want to meet me?
I thought about the woman who’d adopted her. Karla, aka Paula Scott. The woman with eyes like water. The woman who, sixteen years ago, held two babies in her arms and told my desperately ill, seventeen-year-old mother to “choose one.” I imagined myself standing on Paula Scott’s front porch, pressing the doorbell. When the door opened, I’d squeal and say, “Hi, I’m Allie Emerson, your daughter’s twin sister. Can I come in?”
Oh yeah, she was gonna be super glad to see me.
Chapter Nine
The next day was Thanksgiving.
On her way to work, Faye would drop me off at Kizzy’s house. Later on, Charlie, Kizzy and I would go to the diner, where we’d meet, greet and eat with Andy McPherson, Faye’s new chicken wrangler boyfriend. Kizzy had no plans for the holiday. Neither did Charlie, so they were more than happy to join my little family circle. Like I said before, it beat the heck out of dinner at Aunt Sandra’s.
When we reached Kizzy’s house, I was surprised to see a man holding a screwdriver while examining the front gate. He raised his head, and after a quick glance with piercing, dark eyes, returned to his task. A sudden breeze lifted his long brown hair, ruffling the curly tendrils until they framed his face in a perfect halo.
“Who’s he?” Faye said.
“Never saw him before.” I peered through the open gate. A pickup truck with a camper was parked in Kizzy’s driveway.
“Maybe Kizzy hired somebody to fix her gate.”
“Wasn’t broken,” I said. “Besides, if it needed fixing, Charlie would do it.”
“I’ll wait here until you get in the house.”
“Not necessary, but suit yourself.” I grinned and poked her with my elbow. “Oh, I get it. Actually, he does look like your type. Nice broad shoulders. Rough around the edges. And, score! I think I see a tattoo on the back of his hand.”
“Very funny.” Faye checked her watch. “Now, get going. I’m running late.”
I hopped out of the truck and took a couple of steps toward the man. “Hi, I’m Allie. Are you fixing Kizzy’s gate?”
His eyes were deep pools of brown and slightly tilted up at the corners like a cat. Before he answered, he checked me out like guys do, his gaze flicking up and down my body. Ick! “Yeah, I guess you could say I’m fixing it. I’m removing the witchcraft symbol. It’s an affront to all God-fearing Christians.”
Whoa! Did I hear that right?
He started working on the screws that held the falcon eye symbol set in the center of the gate.
I walked through the opening. “Did Kizzy tell you to do that?”
His lips drew away from his teeth and he glared at me like a Rottweiler protecting the family jewels. One screw fell to the ground.
“She didn’t, did she?” I sidled up closer and lowered my voice. “Actually, the falcon’s eye is a symbol used to ward off evil. It’s a gypsy thing. In case you didn’t know, Kizzy’s not a witch. She’s a Romany gypsy. It has nothing to do with religion.”
He ignored me and inserted the screwdriver in the next screw. I leaned in real close and waited a few beats before I screamed, “Romany gypsy!” in his left ear.
Startled, his head shot up.
I snatched the screwdriver from his hand and took off running.
“You little bitch!” He snarled. “Give me that!”
I ran down the front walk toward the house. I heard the truck door slam and Faye shout, “Hey, asshole! Did you just call my daughter a bitch?”
I took the porch steps two at a time and burst through Kizzy’s door. “Kizzy!” I yelled. “There’s a guy out there taking the falcon eye off your gate.”
Kizzy scurried around the corner from the kitchen followed by—OMG—Carmel, her adopted daughter, missing in action for at least eighteen months. When describing Carmel, it helps to imagine a sleazy Paris Hilton. Tall. Willowy. Blonde. But wait!
The last time I saw Carmel, she’d had on tons of makeup and wore a form-fitting white V-neck tee, low rise jeans, four inch heels and had a motorcycle dude boyfriend. This Carmel was dressed in a long-sleeved, gray cotton shirt and baggy dark blue drawstring pants. No makeup. Her blond hair fell across one shoulder in a fat braid. Her pale blue eyes were wide and staring, like she was in a trance.
At least they were until she spotted me. Her gaze narrowed, and she spat, “You!”
“Hi, Carmel. Is that guy with you? The one messing with the gate?”
“Yes, he’s with me. His name is Jessie . . . Brother Jessie Krieger.”
Before I could answer, the guy in question popped through the front door, followed by Faye, who shoved him out of her way and ran to me. “Are you okay, Allie?”
I nodded, keeping one eye on Jessie whose face was flushed with anger. He stomped into the living room. “You have something of mine. I want it back.”
Carmel sidled over to him. One of his arms went around her, pulling her close. “Brother Jessie is my spiritual advisor,” she said. “His ministry is called God’s Chosen.”
I glanced at Kizzy. She rolled her eyes and shook her head in disbelief. I stuck the screwdriver in my back pocket. “Is that a church?”
Carmel gazed up at Jessie with a radiant smile. She said, “We’re not just a church. It’s a belief system. Our people, God’s Chosen, stand for old-fashioned values. Brother Jessie believes people are being corrupted by their unhealthy beliefs in the supernatural.”
Unhealthy beliefs in the supernatural? Chill, Allie. Don’t take it personally.
I walked to Kizzy and dropped a kiss on her soft cheek. “Do you want this guy messing with your gate?”
“Absolutely not.”
“That’s what I thought. I’ll go fix it.”
With a snort of disgust, Jessie walked to the couch, followed by Carmel. He sat and slumped forward with his elbows on his knees, glaring at me. Carmel stroked his hand. “You tried, Jess. It’s not your fault. Some people just don’t get it.”
He mumbled something under his breath. I caught the words, “Burn in hell.”
Faye inhaled sharply. I took a deep breath. Let it out. “Excuse me? I didn’t quite hear that last comment.”
Kizzy touched my arm and whispered, “Let it go, Allie. They won’t be here long.”
I reached inside my shirt and pulled out the moonstone and silver cross. I crossed to the couch and stood over the couple without speaking. Carmel’s eyes got huge. Brother Jessie couldn’t take his gaze from the moonstone.
“Let me get this straight.” I touched a finger to the cross. “This cross is the symbol of Christianity and this” my fingers closed around the moonstone, “was given to me by Carmel’s mother who, by the way, is the kindest, the most caring and the most Christian person I’ve ever met. However, the moonstone has magical properties. So, will I burn in hell or go to heaven?”
Jessie’s cat-eyed gaze darted back and forth between my face and the objects hanging around my neck, while he tried to form an answer. It was almost painful to watch.
Finally, he stood, looked down his nose at me and smiled. It was a nasty smile. “You’re trying to confuse me, but you’ve failed. My mind is clear. I pray you will see the error of your ways and cast that devil stone into the deepest well. When that happens and you confess your sins, you will be welcomed by God’s Chosen.”
Was this guy for real? “Thanks for clearing that up,” I said. “I’ll go fix the gate now.”
Faye and Kizzy followed me to the front door. I slipped an arm around Kizzy’s frail shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Why don’t you put on a coat and keep me company?”
She leaned close and whispered, “I’d better stay inside and keep an eye on the family silver. They want money for their so-called ministry.”
“Figures. I’ll be right back. Don’t let them bully you.”
Kizzy winked. “Don’t worry. I can handle those two. Besides, Charlie’s on his way over.”
Faye was silent until we reached the truck. “I don’t like the idea of you under the same roof with that creep. Come with me to the diner.”
“No way I’m leaving Kizzy alone with those two.”
I heard the purr of a big engine and looked up to see Charlie’s long, black limo slowly cruising toward us. “Here’s Charlie now. We’ll be fine.”
Charlie, an ex-Marine, had a permit to carry a concealed weapon and was totally devoted to Kizzy. Faye waited until Charlie parked the car before she cranked the engine, hit the gas and roared down Peacock Flats road, trailing a cloud of black smoke.
I brought Charlie up to speed on the latest developments, Carmel-wise. He shook his head and groaned. “That girl has always been trouble with a capital T. Drove her father to an early grave.”
I walked to the house with Charlie, mainly to see what was happening inside. When we hit the front steps, we heard the murmur of Kizzy’s voice followed by Carmel’s shrill reply. “I thought you’d be happy for me, Mother. But, as usual, all you do is criticize. What more do you want? My new boyfriend’s a minister, for Christ’s sake!”
Charlie and I looked at each other and grinned. We lingered on the porch, shamelessly eavesdropping.
Sounding weary, Kizzy said, “Carmel, you are welcome to stay here, but Jessie is not.”
“Why?” Carmel whined.
“Why?” Kizzy repeated. “Because he’s hateful and intolerant, for starters.”
“Well, fine!” Carmel snapped. A long silence followed.
I looked at Charlie and put a hand on the doorknob. He nodded. I pushed the door open.
We found Kizzy and Carmel in the living room. Kizzy was sitting by the fireplace. Carmel was pacing back and forth, pausing occasionally to glare at her mother. Jessie had vanished, probably roaming the house looking for objects of witchcraft to smash into tiny pieces.
“Hi,” I chirped. “Look who’s here.”
Kizzy gave us a weak smile. Carmel ignored us entirely.
“Where’s Jessie?” I said.
“Brother Jessie is working on his sermon,” Carmel said.
Kizzy pursed her lips in disapproval. “Yes, according to Carmel, he’s holding a revival at the Legion Hall tomorrow.”
Carmel stopped pacing, whirled and pointed a finger at me. “Don’t think I’m not onto you.”
“Huh?”
“You’re being nice to my mother so you can get her money.”
With a little shriek of outrage, Kizzy said, “Carmel! You’re being ridiculous.”
Carmel treated her mother like crap. That’s why Kizzy changed her will naming me as the beneficiary. Even though my hands were clenched so tightly my fingernails dug into my palms, I looked at her and smiled. “Um, Carmel? I think you’ve got me mixed up with . . . let’s say . . . you?”
Carmel bit her lower lip and tried to think of a witty comeback. Charlie rolled his eyes and headed for the kitchen. Kizzy followed him.
I headed for the door. “I’ve got a gate to fix.”
I zipped up my coat and stepped outside, still huffing in anger. I leaned against the closed door and breathed in the cold crisp air, hoping it would scour away the ugliness of Carmel’s accusation. Feeling calmer, I finished replacing the falcon eye gate and hurried back inside.
Jessie and Carmel were standing in the foyer. I slipped around them and perched on the arm of the sofa next to Kizzy.
She said, “Carmel and Jessie are leaving.”
I glanced over at them. Carmel clung to Jessie’s arm while still wearing her Oh my God, isn’t he wonderful expression. Jessie was staring at me, completely motionless. The hatred in his eyes slammed into me like a punch to the belly. The air shot out of my lungs and I recoiled.
Unable to speak or move, I watched Jessie’s face change and morph into something dark and evil. His eyes narrowed into elongated black slits and the bridge of his nose flattened. He opened his mouth to reveal a yellow tongue and sharp, blood-red teeth that looked like they could rip out your jugular without half trying.
He slashed a finger across his throat in an unmistakable gesture. When he spoke, the sound was that of a hissing snake. “When our day arrives and the killing begins, your mother will be the first. Then your father. After you watch them die, you will be next.”
I slid down to the floor, my heart banging against my ribs. I heard the door open and close, and then Kizzy was kneeling beside me, cupping my face in her palms. “Allie, are you all right? What happened?”
I forced a weak smile. “I’m fine. Just a little dizzy. Guess I forgot to eat lunch.”
While Kizzy fussed over me, I thought about what I’d just seen and heard. Yes, his message terrified me, but it wasn’t just his words. I knew exactly what I was seeing. In Boundless, I’d met a number of dark fae, creatures I’d hoped to never meet again.
Jessie Krieger was dark fae.
Chapter Ten
At ten minutes to four, Kizzy and I climbed into the back seat of the limo. I was still shaky from my encounter with Mr. Dark Fae. Huge dilemma. Should I tell Kizzy? Nobody else had seen the creature hiding under the faery glamour. Not Kizzy. Not Charlie. And certainly not Carmel. Just me. Wasn’t I lucky?
Kizzy knew something was wrong. She kept saying, “What is it, Alfrieda? What’s bothering you?”
I forced a smile and told her I was fine, because when she used my full name, I knew she was really worried. She’d already decided Krieger couldn’t stay at her house. Did she need to know he was dark fae? I was driving myself nuts and had to do something, anything. My best bet was Charlie.
