Ghosts

Chapter 4

Chapter Four

I exhale with relief when Sydney and I step through Hill O’ Beans’ door. The calendar turned to December last week, bringing with it a biting chill that I feel through my thick jacket. Warm, toasty air envelops us as the door closes behind us, along with the aroma of freshly roasted perfection. We’re immediately greeted by a “Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas” from the life-sized Santa statue, which just a couple days ago replaced Hobadiah the Thanksgiving Pilgrim. Austin has a thing for talking statues.

Speaking of the boss-man, I don’t see him anywhere. Lucas and Amari are both busy, which is not surprising considering there’s not one empty table in the place. Java Luvva, a rival coffee shop that had to close due to an electrical fire six weeks ago, has yet to reopen, resulting in a fifteen percent increase in sales according to Austin. When he showed me how many Sexy Baxes—my own version of a mocha chai latte that has become all the rage in our little corner of the city—had been rung up in the month of November, I damn near fainted.

“Thanks for the ride,” I tell Sydney, who still has her arm around me. “I should be off at five.” I plant another kiss on her forehead.

“That’s when my volleyball practice ends. Got our final match of the season this weekend.”

“Go kick some ass.” I smack her playfully on the butt. She blows me a kiss as she departs.

I so lucked out meeting Sydney. I mean, seriously, what are the odds of a guy like me finding a hot girl who loves chocolate chip pancakes dripping with blueberry syrup as much as me? And for dinner, no less?

Tonight will be our fourth date, our fifth if you count the night most of the Hill O’ Beans staff got together for karaoke. I got to meet Austin’s boyfriend Danny, Lucas’s girlfriend Kelly, and a few others. The singing was terrible, but it was so much fun.

Some other things I’ve learned about Sydney since our first successful date at Harrigan’s: first, she’s fun and outgoing, which makes her a blast to hang with. She’s also a ferocious volleyball player, and a crowd favorite. She’s currently taking classes in coding and game design, and given how whip-smart she is, she’ll probably turn it into a great career. Finally, she has great taste in dudes. Obvi.

And, as I found out last weekend, she’s a wildcat in the sack. There we were, making out on my couch watching Netflix, with me fully prepared to be all gentlemanly and not push her into s*x before she was ready. Next thing I know, my bones are being jumped…hard. The two hours that followed were so energetic, I’m surprised I could even move the next morning.

Cocktail sausage, my ass.

I miss the crap out of Piper. I mean, those hours we spent investigating the Disney Princess Killer, culminating in tracking him to his very doorstep, provided a bonding experience I’ve never had with another person. That being said, her absence is probably the best thing that could’ve happened for both of us right now; it allowed her to take a much-needed holiday and me to put our friendship in the proper perspective. When she comes back, I’m confident I can keep my working relationship with Piper apart from the romantic feelings I have for Sydney.

I clock in at the terminal on the back counter, prompting Amari to punch out. We share a fist-bump, and I make a stupid “Wakanda forever” joke. He’s of Nigerian descent, in his early twenties, taller than me and with a beaming smile. He’s also the friendliest guy I’ve ever met, and the customers adore him. He gives me his trademark deep-chested baritone laugh—which the female customers also adore—before departing.

I duck into the back room to grab my apron, then emerge with a puzzled frown. “Where’s Austin?”

“Oh, right, you didn’t hear,” Lucas says. “He had a minor accident at his house last night. Spent a few hours in the emergency room. I had to pick up the keys this morning so we could open on time.”

“s**t,” I breathe. “What happened?”

He nods his large head at the door. “You can ask him yourself.”

I turn to see Austin hobble into the shop on crutches. Flanking him is Danny, a mixture of concern and annoyance in his expression. Danny’s not as tall nor as muscular as Austin, but he’s strong enough to support his partner when maneuvering through the crowded dining area.

“Dude, what happened?” I ask, stepping out from behind the register.

He meets my gaze. “Fell off a ladder.”

“Maybe next time you’ll listen to me and call a professional, He-Man,” Danny gripes.

“All right, Danny, next time you can climb the ladder,” Austin says, clearly miffed.

The door swings open with a jingle. Detective Natalie Rojas enters, wearing a long black coat over her smart navy-blue blazer and dark slacks. The perpetual rage-lines I got used to seeing on her face are gone. Guess that anger management therapy is working out after all.

“Austin!” She rushes over to her friend. “Are you all right?”

“He’s fine,” Danny says. “Now that you’re here, can you arrest this guy for trying to impersonate a qualified repairperson? I think the time behind bars would do him some good.”

I stifle a chuckle.

“Sorry, bad judgment’s not against the law,” Natalie says. “At least, not in this case.”

“I was trying to save us some money,” Austin says. “You know how overpriced most repairmen are. They charge you a hundred bucks just to answer the phone.”

“Money we ended up spending on the deductible, the x-ray, and these little doodads.” Danny points to the crutches now leaning against the counter. “You sure dodged a bullet, didn’t you?”

“Jeez, guys,” Natalie says. “You two sound like an old married couple.”

“We do not!” Austin and Danny say in unison.

Lucas pipes up, “Um, I happen to be the son of an old married couple, and yeah, that is exactly what you sound like.”

Austin shoots him a withering look. “Isn’t today your day to clean the restrooms?”

“Whoa. Harsh,” I say.

Lucas shows me his mischievous grin, then winks. “Sometimes it’s worth it.” He disappears into the back to grab the cleaning supplies. I step to the register, thankful there are no new customers.

Danny meets my gaze, then slaps Austin on the shoulder. “I’m going now. Try to keep him out of trouble.” He gives Natalie’s arm a squeeze, then departs with a jingle of the bell.

The comical expression on Natalie’s face almost makes me bust out laughing. It’s probably taking all her professionalism to keep her face neutral.

Austin picks up the crutches and hops through to my side of the counter. “See what I have to put up with?”

I don’t know if he’s addressing me or Natalie, so I redirect the conversation. “Doing a coffee run, Detective?”

“Yes.” Just like that, she’s all business again, scanning the menu board. “That candy cane latte sounds good. Never too early to get into the Christmas spirit, I guess.”

“On it.” Austin proceeds to make the drink while I ring her up.

For the first time since entering, she looks directly at me. Her expression isn’t stern, but it does make me shuffle my feet in unease. Old habits die hard, I guess.

“Austin, I need a word with Bax,” she says. “May I borrow him for a few minutes?”

What the what?

I’d probably be panicking right now, except she referred to me as “Bax” and not “Mr. Baxter,” something she hasn’t called me since my near-death experience. Austin knows about the tenuous peace we forged, so he doesn’t seem worried by the impromptu summons.

“You may.” Austin slaps a lid on Natalie’s latte. “But only a few. I have a feeling when the lunch rush hits, it’s gonna hit hard.”

Natalie exchanges a ten-dollar bill for her drink, tells Austin to put the change in the charity tip jar, and beckons me to follow. It’s still nippy as hell outside, so I grab my jacket on the way out.

It takes a few seconds to find Natalie, who has wandered around the back corner of the building, to the alley. It’s there that I notice an official-looking folder in her hand.

She points to the asphalt next to our dumpster. “So that’s where it happened, huh?”

“Yeah.” I’ve been in this alley a dozen times since returning to work, but being here never fails to send a shiver up my spine. That first major flash, during which I relived Sarah Blankenship’s tragic last few minutes of life, is permanently etched into my brain.

Maybe that’s for the best. A lot of good came from that experience. I never want to forget what some people are capable of.

“How’s Cheyanne?” Natalie asks, facing me.

“She’s…good. She’s back at school, doing well. To look at her, you’d never know she’d been kidnapped by a serial killer. I think she’s too scared to go anywhere alone, but I suppose that’s a natural reaction.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I have kids of my own, and the need to protect them—and all children, really—from monsters like Harold Crane are what keep me going.”

I notch an eyebrow. “You have kids?”

“Two. Rafael is six, Marina is four. Every time a dead girl turned up, I pictured it happening to them. They’re my reason for living.” Her lips curl into a smile. “Austin and Danny are their guncles.”

“Their what?”

“Gay uncles. Kind of like godparents, but cooler.”

I chuckle. “I’m sure that bit of trivia isn’t why you brought me out here.”

“No.” She holds out the folder to me. It’s blue, bearing the emblem of the PPD and with the word CONFIDENTIAL stamped on the front. “There’s been an…incident, involving one of Arizona’s most influential families. Pressure is being brought to bear upon my superiors, and s**t flows downhill. It’s in everyone’s best interests to close this case as quickly and discreetly as possible.”

I take the folder from her and open it. There’s a single document inside: a missing persons report. The name at the top reads “Chrissy Marsh.” Paper-clipped to the upper left corner is a photo of a teenage girl with bleached-blonde hair, a perfectly made-up face, and an expression like she just sucked on a whole bag of lemons.

“Who’s this?” I ask.

“Senator Marsh’s eighteen-year-old daughter. She disappeared last night under mysterious circumstances, and all efforts to track her down have failed.”

Oh, my. I know what’s coming next. It’s all I can do to keep my eyes from bugging out of my head.

“We need your help, Bax. And we need it now. Are you in?”