Death Swipes Right, page 3
It seemed to her, the police were more interested in investigating Talin and Abbie as suspects than searching for the actual killer.
Judith met her at the building’s entrance. The best ending to this tough morning. Her friend put away her phone.
“Your mobile’s working?” Abbie asked.
“They’re coming back slowly.”
Abbie checked on hers. The light came on. Excellent. She put it away for now.
“Bran says hi,” Judith said.
Since their return from rescuing Granny Chan, Abbie’s brother, Bran, and Judith were inseparable, having patched up their differences. Until COVID restrictions set in.
To protect Bran, the two lovebirds now kept their distance.
Abbie still had a hard time reconciling seeing Judith without Bran at her side.
Worried the immortal mage they’d outfoxed this spring might come after Bran, who had helped them, Judith gifted him with Comet, her magical broom. Besides her, Comet was his next best defense.
Though heartbroken to put a pause on his and Judith’s growing relationship, he’d texted Abbie later that day to say he felt privileged to possess such a powerful magical tool.
Abbie had also heard in his comments his thrill at having back his control of Comet. She couldn’t help smiling as she remembered seeing him fly across the night sky on that broom with an unconscious Judith in his arms.
“Talin’s still being interviewed,” Judith added. “I plan to stay put until they release him.”
At that pronouncement, Abbie said, “Thank you. He’s not in a good way, Jude.”
“He will be,” Judith replied. “I can teach him a few Taoist tricks on how to control his magic.”
“Oh, brilliant,” Abbie said, highly relieved. “Hey, why didn’t you tell me they had put Turner on this case?”
“I didn’t want to prejudice what you told her,” Judith said. “You heading home now?”
“Not yet. I want to see my kids, even if only through a window. To assure them I’m all right.”
Judith walked her out the front doors and called over a PC to drive Abbie.
She waved goodbye to Judith and then hurried back to steal a hug before getting into the police unit.
On their way, the constable promised to deliver Rosie to Judith’s home after forensics finished with it.
“Might take a while though,” he warned. “We’re understaffed. They have reassigned any constables who hold a valid Traffic Control certificate to Traffic until the lights are back.”
She hoped whoever took Rosie apart fixed the right rear light that had been acting up before they put her car back together. She hadn’t had the time to have it repaired yet.
Once the constable dropped her off at home, Abbie gazed at her cottage with nostalgia. She so missed living here.
When they agreed to switch homes, Granny Chan had said that she intended to sage this cottage, the church, and the graveyard, because she had no intention of living anywhere with the lingering negativity of a demon-slaying.
Abbie had no objection to that as long as the ceremony didn’t chase Robert away, too. Still, she hadn’t breathed easy until he accompanied her to Granny Chan’s home. He told her the two kids had enough guardians with a powerful witch like Mrs. Chan living with them and Abbie’s Grimm mother tutoring them during the day.
After the elderly witch moved into Abbie’s home, however, Granny Chan said that no saging was required because this entire area vibrated with positive energy.
Abbie mentioned the wards around the cottage then, but the elderly witch said that wasn’t the source of the energy she sensed. She believed something celestial was at work.
Could Kali’s appearance here be the reason for that? Except the Hindu goddess had never entered St. Michael’s church. However, that was where the kids’ mother had prayed to the deity tied to St. Michael’s to help her children. That prayer had resulted in Abbie being summoned along with the other members of her Standard Bearers’ club.
Could the resulting energy release every time the group did their fist bumps be the source of the positive vibes Granny Chan sensed? Could her home, the church, and the graveyard be divinely blessed?
True or not, the pleasing idea made her want to move back home even more. She was about to open the cottage gate when a bark alerted her to St. Michael’s church. Turning, she spotted Figg sitting on the church’s front landing.
Oh, no! The last thing she needed was that dangerous dog coming here to warn her that his immortal master was planning to harass Abbie or her family and friends again.
Figg met her gaze and then walked over and used his paw to shift open the church door.
That was odd. She always kept the church locked. Aside from preventing vandals from entering, it also barred Nica or Jimi from being tempted to go inside.
She gave her right hand a shake to alert her cord to be ready and raised her pen-ring shield before she raced toward the church and up its stairs.
“Who’s inside the church?” Abbie asked the dog, her tension on high alert. “Your master?”
The dog wagged his tail.
She took that as a sign it wasn’t the immortal, for Figg was as fearful of that monster as Abbie. She sighed in relief. Probably a break-in. She should call the police, but communication was spotty. Even if she reached 999, until the blackout ended, would they come for a minor B&E?
She needed to deal with this problem.
Good thing she’d chosen to stop by here to check on her kids instead of going straight to Judith’s place, or her parents and her kids might have had to deal with this break-in.
Guardedly, Abbie edged up to the doorway and, pulse racing like a bolting horse, she peered into the darkened church. Her dominant left hand rose, fisted around her keys, ready to wallop anyone who threatened her. “Who’s in here!”
She pushed the door open wider and whipped out her cord in readiness to apprehend this trespasser. After she whacked her mysterious intruder for frightening her.
With all the windows boarded, it was too dark to see inside. She wished she had stopped to fetch a torch. But would it have worked?
Footsteps sounded and then someone said, “Abbie?”
It took her a moment to comprehend that she was not under threat. That voice belonged to Callum. She hurriedly retracted her cord.
DCI Callum Radford was wholly human, unaware that supernatural creatures were real and often threatened his world. She couldn’t see him clearly because her eyesight hadn’t adjusted enough to the darkness inside the church. She followed his hurried approach by the sound of boots hitting the floorboards.
Callum had been inside St. Michael’s church? Why?
Chapter Three
Figg growled, backing up and preventing Abbie from going in further. He was protective. Good pup.
Callum’s footsteps faltered.
“Easy.” She soothed Figg’s forehead. “Stand down.”
The dog whined with uncertainty and then leaned against her legs in acquiescence.
“Callum,” she said, both thrilled and worried to find the Chipstead nick’s DCI here. He wasn’t part of her support bubble. She put her mask back on. This church was an odd place for Callum to visit, especially without her permission.
She wanted to ask if he had a warrant, but squashed the self-defeating impulse. She wanted to date this man one day, not alienate him irreparably. Must be her lingering temper at having had to deal with DI Turner all morning.
Callum stopped within the required two-meter distance that COVID protocols required. His tartan mask made her lips tip up in a smile of appreciation.
A ray of afternoon light shone into the church through the open doorway to highlight his bright hair trimmed short and irregular. Barber visits weren’t allowed any longer. His angular face was pale and his gray eyes looked drawn and tired.
He observed Figg with interest. “New pet?”
“No,” Abbie said. “He’s a stray. Likes to hang around here, but I’m discouraging that behavior.”
“Not well,” he said, his teasing gaze meeting hers.
She quit petting the dog. “Right.”
Odd that she hadn’t seen Callum’s distinctive sage green Rover parked beside her dad’s truck. Was it down because of the blackout? How had he arrived here?
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit, Callum?” She stepped back to allow him room to move out onto the landing. And how did you enter St. Michael’s?
“Interview go all right?” Callum asked, staying put.
Abbie shrugged, noting his adept topic change from what he was doing here to how she’d fared. “As well as my last with DI Turner. Intense and unhelpful for both of us.”
“Excellent,” he replied. “That should keep her busy for a few days trying to unravel your statement. It’s what I usually have to do when I read one of your witness reports.”
“I’m sorry about Niara’s passing,” Abbie blurted out, realizing the lady had been Callum’s brother-in-law’s sister. “She was gone before we arrived. There was nothing either Talin or I could have done to save her.”
“I know,” he said, nodding. “I spoke to the coroner before they took me off the case. He informed me that her death was instantaneous.” He shuffled on his feet and pointed backward with his torch at where he’d emerged from the church’s anteroom. “You’ve not altered much in there.”
“No,” Abbie said, curious where he went with this latest change of subject.
“You said you wanted to use this as your teaching space, didn’t you?” Callum asked. “To hold first aid classes.”
He was right. Except, after she bought the church, cottage, and graveyard out back, paying off the monthly mortgage never left enough funds to fix up the church.
So, St. Michael’s was in the same sordid state as when Abbie entered to find the two children cowering beside their mother’s body. She’d washed up the spilled blood, but much of it had soaked into the floorboards and walls. Then, once COVID hit, she couldn’t hold classes. For now, she was in a holding pattern.
“Cash is tight,” Abbie admitted. “Can’t afford repairs yet.”
She already owed her parents for covering the deposit for this place. She didn’t want to ask them for more financial help. By the time restrictions lifted, she should have saved enough to do some light touchups. Enough to take out the stench of murder and make it usable for teaching.
“It’s on my to-do list,” she said with forced enthusiasm.
Abbie gave Callum a side glance and decided she should change the subject this time. “Are you hungry? I can ask if Mum or Granny Chan can fix you a bite to eat. Granny Chan’s living at my cottage to act as my kids’ nanny while I stay with Judith.”
“Not today,” he said. “I’m expected for lunch elsewhere.” He nodded toward the cottage. “Excellent arrangement, you and Granny Chan switching houses.”
“Yes. The kids love her cooking, so there wasn’t much protest,” Abbie said, a bittersweet acknowledgment that she would lose that competition every time.
His gaze softened, which touched Abbie’s heart.
“I stopped by here because I’d like to help you with this place,” Callum said, finally answering why he was here. “Would you allow me to do some renovations to get St. Michael’s ready for your classes?”
His request left her torn. She wanted his help, but couldn’t afford it. “Shouldn’t you be working?” she asked, prevaricating. “Judith said you were short-staffed.”
He shrugged. “I’ve been working from home, with the occasional day in the office.” He pulled out what looked like a chunky radio. “With phones down, this airwave is my only source of contact with my constables. That means I can work from here as easily as home.”
“There’s no Wi-Fi in there,” Abbie said with a frown. “Even if you turned on your laptop, you wouldn’t be able to use it effectively inside the church.”
“Mine’s at home along with my mobile. What do you say, Abbie?”
Although he was already aware of her stretched finances, it was still hard to admit it aloud. Swallowing her pride, she forced out the words. “I can’t afford to pay you much.”
“I’m happy to donate my services. I also know a bloke who owns a hardware store. He’s not only a mate, but owes me a huge favor. Between the two of us, we can cover the labor if you can pitch in for material costs.”
His head tilted, and his eyes crinkled as if he were smiling under his mask. “If you insist on paying me back personally, you can take me out to dinner once they lift the lockdown. I need to get out of my house. Deal?”
“That would be fantastic,” she said with deep sincerity. She’d been saving for this renovation. Also, any chance to spend time with Callum was okay with her. Finally, something went her way. “Thank you! Just send me the invoice.”
He nodded. “All settled then. I’ll finish checking out what’s needed in there before I leave.”
“How did you get here? I don’t see your jeep.”
“Walked over from where I’m expected for lunch.” He pointed beside her. “Will you be taking him into the cottage?”
Abbie glanced down and noted with worry that Figg was still here. Why had he come? His presence could draw the immortal here. “He’s not allowed inside.”
“Does he have a name?” Callum asked.
Her cautious glance swung back to the DCI. Was that a trick question? “Why would I name a stray?”
His curious and intelligent gaze stayed trained on her. Unnerved, she wanted to end their talk. Yet, she couldn’t return home and leave this dog here. She must also ensure Figg didn’t hurt Callum if he returned later when she wasn’t around.
She knelt to face Figg and pointed to Callum. “He’s a friend. He’s not to be harmed. Understand?”
The dog whined with a questioning note and then strolled over to Callum. He sniffed at his booted feet and then lay down, rolling over to offer him a chance to rub his belly.
Callum chuckled and knelt to oblige. “Good boy.”
When it looked as if man and dog were enjoying themselves too much, Abbie said abruptly, “That’s enough.”
She wanted Figg to know she trusted Callum, and he was not to be harmed, not for these two to become best buddies.
Still kneeling beside the dog, she turned the pup toward the car park exit to show him how she wanted the dog to leave, instead of simply vanishing. “Time to go. Now!”
The dog howled in protest.
At a stern shake of her head, he raced off.
“He’s oddly obedient for a stray,” Callum mused.
Abbie caught and held the DCI’s curious gaze. “He can be unpredictable. Please don’t feed him or befriend him. He’s a dangerous animal.”
Callum’s return stare was equally intense. “The mutt that killed the farmer’s son last autumn fits his description. You met that dog. Do the two seem similar?”
Abbie’s throat closed at his astute question. She had the distinct impression Callum was asking her to confide in him. That was the one thing she couldn’t do with this kind but clever man. It seemed they both had secrets to guard.
“Lots of black and white strays in this region,” she replied in a careless tone and rose to her feet.
He matched her movement, but seemed disappointed with her answer, which crushed her. He had offered to do her a favor, and she’d reciprocated by letting him down.
She gave a backward wave as she sprinted down the church steps. “Talk to you later.”
Halfway to her cottage, she checked over her shoulder.
He was still there, watching her.
She blew him a kiss with both hands and called out, “Thanks again for offering to fix up this place.”
At her front garden gate, she checked on him again.
He had shut the church door from the inside. He wasn’t leaving yet. A shiver of unease washed over her.
This day had begun with a shock at receiving a package from a dead colleague and had done nothing but nose-dive from that low point.
Shaking off her strangely disquieting encounter with Callum, Abbie hurried through the white picket fence. Instead of going to the front door, though, she headed over to the living room window and knocked.
Her kids greeted her by running to the windowpane.
Robert nodded to her and vanished. Now she was here to speak to the children, he had likely returned to Judith’s house or wherever he vanished to when he wasn’t with her.
Even though the kids had her parents and Granny Chan, Abbie knew Nica and Jimi cherished Robert’s company.
Nica once told her on their many phone calls that Robert visiting them was almost as good as seeing Abbie.
“All okay with you guys?” she asked, her heart swelling with love to see their adorable faces. She’d missed them.
“Yes,” Nica shouted. “We miss you.”
Jimi ran off screaming in joy, “She’s back, Gran, she’s back!”
Nica had given up lecturing her brother about adopting Abbie’s family as his own. These days, especially after Margaret Grimshaw began homeschooling Abbie’s kids, Abbie had even heard Nica slip and refer to Abbie’s mother as Gran.
Jimi’s thrill at her return and the ecstatic smile on Nica’s face said the kids were happy to see her. Contentment bubbled within her.
Her mother entered the living room wearing a relieved smile and waved to Abbie. “Good to see you, love.”
“Told you to not worry,” Abbie said, clearing her throat of clogged emotions, “but I assumed no one would listen, so I came by to reassure you all I am fine.”
“Are you hungry?” her father asked, strolling into the room behind his wife. “Want a sandwich?”
“Starved,” she confessed. “I haven’t eaten since early this morning. But I’m only here to say hello and pick up my bike, Dad. I’ll eat when I get home.”
