He was the pushy, bossy type who thought everyone was put on this earth to wait on him or steal from him. Or both…at the same time. That about summed up all of my bosses.
Three people waited at his back, an important-looking dude with a buzzcut and a stern face, and two slim guys in their thirties who looked like they needed a good meal.
I redirected my gaze out over the bay. “I’m not a witch.”
“Right, yeah. Whatever. You that broad?” The man shifted impatiently. “I was told to look for…this type of setup.”
“She’s that broad,” Daisy said. “The best there is. At your service—”
“Maybe,” I said.
“Sign me up,” he said. The client chair squeaked as the man sat.
I took a last glimpse at the calming water before turning my head in his direction. “Don’t you want to know the particulars? Like the services I perform and the amount I charge?”
“I know all that. A buddy used you a while back. I been wanderin’ around this spot looking for you, but you ain’t been on scene.”
He said it like an accusation. Him and me—we weren’t going to end up the best of friends.
I grumpily got up and moved my chair to face him. A couple more people were wandering along the sidewalk now, looking in my direction. They were interested in what I did.
Daisy clearly noticed it. “She needs a sign,” she whispered to Mordecai. “Or, like…a scarf on her head or something.”
“I don’t need a sign,” I said. “That just encourages people.”
“I don’t think she’d do well if she went into business for herself,” Mordecai whispered to Daisy.
“Understatement,” Daisy replied.
I clasped my hands in my lap so I didn’t bitch-slap someone, then calmly looked at the man in front of me. His shiny black hair was slicked back over his head and all the stubble had been cleared from his jaw. A crisp suit covered his stocky frame, bulging up over his belt, where I knew a gun probably lurked. His shiny gold watch screamed expensive, as did his gaudy cufflinks.
All of the glitz and shine didn’t detract from the overall feeling of roughness he exuded. If I had to guess, his profession was less than reputable. The harsh set of his jaw, his permanently clenched fists, and the way he perched on the chair like he would shake my services out of me—they all told me he was someone I didn’t want hanging around for long. I’d end up like those poor sods shadowing him.
“What is it you want me to do?” I asked, though you didn’t have to be a genius to figure it out.
He braced his forearms on his knees, trying to cut down the distance between us. “My buddy said you are discreet.”
“Yeah. Though if a police officer asks me the right questions, I will answer.”
His gaze intensified. “What are the right questions?”
“The ones I can’t truthfully evade without going to jail.”
He leaned back now, his constant micro-movements indicating the restlessness of a guilty conscience. “How often you got cops asking around?”
“Never. But that doesn’t mean it won’t happen.”
He squinted just a bit before glancing around my setup. He relaxed.
Apparently, he figured the police wouldn’t believe a person like me even if they questioned me. That, or his lawyer could easily discredit me.
Both were spot-on assessments.
“I need to get some weight off my back, if you know what I’m sayin’,” he said, then a glimmer of uncertainty crossed his features. “My buddy said you’d know what that meant.”
“Are you referring to the three ghosts standing behind you, or does this relate to a haunting of a specific location? Because I don’t travel.”
“Oh my God,” Daisy breathed, and then shivered.
The man in front of me tensed. He just barely kept from looking behind him, I could tell.
“It’s… I got…” He swallowed, and his eyes flicked to the kids at my left. “I feel this…weight…all the time,” he said, clearly uncomfortable. “But it ain’t guilt, because…you know…”
“That weight is the ghosts, and no, I don’t know how not to feel guilty when I kill someone.” I waited a beat and earned a flicker of annoyance. He’d definitely killed them, and definitely didn’t feel remorse. He was not a man to trifle with. “But you want them gone, yes? That’s why you’re here?”
A spark of anger lit up his eyes. “Sayin’ that sort of stuff can get you in trouble.”
“Clearly.” I gestured at the three people pushing up close to his back, eyeing me like a starving man would a steak. “The answer is yes, I can get rid of them. For a price.”
His shoulders tensed again, and no wonder. His personal poltergeists were practically sitting on them. The rugs I’d given to the kids would’ve bought him some distance from them. But if anyone deserved to be haunted, this guy did.
“How much?” he asked.
He had money, he had done a terrible deed a few times over, and he was clearly desperate.
He could also break my jaw if I pissed him off. As he’d said a moment ago, he didn’t suffer from a guilty conscience.
“Three hundred, one for each issue.” I stared at him, no facial expression, and no blinking.
His eyes narrowed. “Two hundred.”
“Look, buck-o, I’m not the one being tailed by my indiscretions. Pay the price, or live with it, because I assume you had someone else try to sever that attachment, and it didn’t work, right? How else would you know what’s going on? But, I mean, look at ’em. They’re on you good and tight. That’s gotta be draining the energy out of you.”
He shifted to the other side, and the folding chair groaned mournfully. His jaw tightened.
Oh yeah, he’d tried to get help. But those poltergeists were clearly not having it. They had a story to tell, and they weren’t leaving until someone heard them out.
I slumped. Guess who’d have to be the big ears of this operation?
“Three hundred, and you’re lucky I’m slightly afraid of what you’ll do if I ask for more.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
He leaned forward again, and his personal hell leaned with him. I could almost feel the weight of their horror. Of their memories. Of their extreme anger that justice hadn’t been served.
I only wished I could do something more for them than send them on. Someday this guy would certainly go to jail for what he’d done. These types of guys always did, one way or another. Visiting Alcatraz would tell you that much. But I knew, to them, it wouldn’t be soon enough.
“Fine. Three hundred.” He didn’t make a move toward his pocket.
I didn’t bother getting started.
His eyes narrowed again. That was clearly his reaction du jour. “You tryin’ to scam me, wanting the money up front? I ain’t payin’ if this don’t work.”
“Oh yes, you fucking will pay if this doesn’t work,” I said in a sudden flare of anger. I had zero patience and a wicked temper. They were the main reasons why I was absolutely wretched at this type of work. “This is going to truly suck. They are just about to open their big traps and spill all. I’m not going to want to hear it, because you seem like a real piece of work. I’ll probably have nightmares because of this. So if I’m going to subject myself to this horror, you’re going to pay for it. Don’t like those terms, get the fuck out. I have better things to do than getting jerked around by a lowlife piece of trash like you.”
I’d gone too far, but luckily, I knew exactly how to get myself out of the self-created jam.
I stood in a rush and eyed each and every one of his followers. “I can see you. I can hear you.” I held up a hand. “I didn’t say I wanted to, just that I could. I can’t help you in the way you want. I’m not a cop, or someone the cops listen to. But you’re weighing on him. You’re having an effect. Go ahead and siphon his energy, and then press yourself into him. Do you know how to do that?”
The important-looking dude in the white button-up shirt nodded, his expression determined, and I’d bet on my life that he’d been a cop or agent of some kind. The two slight characters looked to the stern-faced dude, but instead of moving closer and following his lead, they cowered where they stood. They were afraid of him.