Whiskey Witches, F.J. Blooding [ap literature book list .TXT] 📗

“Let’s talk about somethin’ else.”

Paige sank carefully onto the edge of the bed, her back tweaking with the effort. The expression on her grandmother’s face said she was ready for a rather unpleasant conversation. Great. Because she needed to be beat up a little more. A physical ass whooping wasn’t quite enough. A berating was required. Yay. “I don’t want to talk about it, Grandma. What’s done is done.”

“Nope. We’re not putting the mind blockers on you again, so we need to get this out in the air.”

Paige rolled her eyes. “What do you want to hear, Grandma? You hid all my memories of my daughter, and you and Balnore locked away my gift, banishing even more of my memories. Like ones where I worked similar cases to this one, only I solved them. Since I’ve been in Denver, I’ve felt like the worst damned detective the world’s ever seen. I couldn’t close a case to save my life because that’s what it said on paper.”

Alma pursed her wrinkled lips.

Paige tugged her hair free of her tight ponytail, her heart carefully cool. “Leah was just the frosting on the cake. I knew there was a hole in my heart. I just didn’t know what or who had left it. Or what was wrong with me.”

“Nothing was wrong with you.”

“Really.” Paige dropped her jaw, her lips closed as she stared pointedly at the window. The calm folded away like a slow moving fog. “Nothing. Then why did you hide me?”

Alma narrowed her cataract-ridden eye. “What does that mean?”

“I scared you so bad, you hid me, the parts of me that made me who I am, so you’d feel safer at night.”

“You were never this level-headed before. Every time I tried to discuss this with you, you’d overreact.”

“Overreact.” The rage rumbled in her gut. She let out a chuckle to mask it. “So what are you trying to tell me? I wasn’t supposed to grieve for the daughter I lost? What, was I supposed to feel less? Move on faster?”

“Not summon a demon to kill your mother?”

Paige bit her bottom lip and grinned through the pain. “That wasn’t right, I get that, but you know what the real kicker was?”

Alma blinked, her nostrils flared.

“I summoned one I knew wouldn’t do it.”

Alma tipped her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

Paige shrugged. “I didn’t even realize it until just now. I summoned Balnore, knowing he’d understand, that he’d help in any way I needed him to. But a part of me knew he’d never go through with what I wanted him to do.”

Confusion settled across Alma’s features.

“Yeah.” Paige stood, pushing on her leg with the butt of her hand to get her back to fully straighten. She didn’t want to get too close. She didn’t know what she’d do, rationality a bare thought in her rage-clouded mind. “I don’t want to hear how scared you were. I was in pain and I handled it. No one, and I do mean no one, was hurt. Except me. Watching my entire family, everyone I loved, everyone I trusted turn on me? Yeah. And you know what’s weird?”

Alma didn’t move.

“In that time, I wondered why I had trust issues, why I never let anyone in. Now, I know. A part of me never forgot that. So, yes, I’m hurting, not that I think you really care, and yes I’m pissed, but I’m able to deal. I know what my gift means. I comprehend its full impact on humanity which is something you don’t because you never fucking bothered to fucking ask me about it. And no, I don’t need you if all you’re going to do is judge me. Now, then, do you have anything else you can add to the case?”

Alma ran her gnarled fingertips along the tabletop, her gaze following the movement. “You never talked about your gift.”

“Because I could see the fear in your eyes every time I mentioned it, let alone talked about it. The lack of faith in me cut me like a dull, rusty blade every single time. Well, thank you for your love and belief in me. The one thing I discovered is that I’m better off without you.”

“Paige.”

“No. If you have information that could help, or if you have a way to find the real killer, let me know. But if you want to do the family thing…” Paige let the rest drop.

“I raised you.”

“That’s not counting in your favor right now, Grandma.”

Alma ran her hand over her head, her shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry, Peanut.”

The emotions in Paige’s chest were dangerously quiet. “I’ll let you know when that’s enough.”

A key jiggled in the door.

Her hand dropping to her empty side, Paige faced the door. She’d left her gun in the drawer of the table beside the bed.

Dexx stepped into the room, stashing the key in his jacket pocket. “I’m back. Miss me?” He jerked to a stop at the sight of Alma.

Not knowing what else to do or say, Paige focused on the job. Always fall back on the job. “Tell me you discovered something about the ghost.”

Dexx shed his over-shirt, tossing it to the bed.

The sleeve clipped her head. “Hey!”

He smiled angelically. “Yeah, anyway, she died in California with no connection to this location.”

He bubbled with too much excitement for him to come up empty. “So what was the connection?”

“Hell.” He grinned, propping himself against the bureau. “Probably the key and the gate.”

Paige closed her eyes. “Whatever they were doing, they managed to crack open the Gates of Hell.”

“At least a little. That little bitch of a ghost got through, so what else did?”

“Son of a—” Paige bit off the rest of her curse and bit her lip. “This is bad. We’ve got to get that key back before they try it again. Chief White hasn’t returned my phone calls.”

“I saw him briefly in town today.” Dexx yawned, tucking his chin to his chest. “He’s calling in the police officers from a local town. He says he has tails on Mike and Malika, people he trusts.”

It was so weird to hear colleagues called by their first names. It took her a second to remember Lieutenant Jones was “Mike.”

“He’s hopeful we’ll find something.”

“Good.” Paige rose from the bed. “We need to do—”

Someone knocked on the door.

Dexx frowned. “You expecting anyone?”

She shook her head.

“It’s probably just Tru,” Alma said, dragging herself out of the chair. “He said he’d come get me if he found anythin’ else out on his evidence.”

Alma was right. There really was no reason to be antsy. Well, if she didn’t count the fact that the murderer had lured her there so she could free Lucius’ soul, the very same soul that had very nearly succeeded in possessing her the night before. Right. She needed her gun.

Alma opened the door,

“Not so fast, Detective,” Jones said in a gruff tone.

Her hand on the handle of the drawer, Paige stilled.

“Bring it back, nice and easy.” Jones maneuvered through the door, pushing Alma out of his way.

Dexx rose from the dresser and inched toward the door, just out of Jones’ sight.

“I know you’re here, hunter.” Jones closed the door with his foot.

Dexx launched himself at the man.

“Grandma, get down!” Paige dove for the floor.

Dexx kicked Jones’ knees in. They toppled.

The drawer finally released enough for Paige to extract her gun.

A shot ricocheted through the room.

She spun, her eyes searching both men.

A bloody hand on his gut, Dexx rolled onto his back.

Alma inched toward him on all fours.

Paige took a step toward Dexx, her gun pointed at Jones. She thumbed the safety off. “Grandma, I need you to call 911.”

The older woman fumbled with the pocket on her blouse.

“No.” Jones rose to his feet, the gun pointed at Dexx in one bloody hand. His lips twisted in a sick smile. “No. You’re going to put your gun down and you’re going to come with us.”

“You put your gun down.”

A full grin exploded on his face. “You’re not going to shoot me.”

“I’m not?”

“No. You know why? Because you’re good and that’s what good people do.”

Maybe before. She dropped her aim to his knee. “You just shot my friend.”

“Your lover, you mean?”

“He’s not my lover yet.”

Jones’ eye ticked. “Fine.” He turned the gun on Alma. “Shoot me in the knee and see how quickly I pull the trigger on your dear sweet grandmother.”

The reality was this. Sure, she could take out his kneecap. It felt like the thing to do, but his finger would twitch in reaction and that gun would go off. Alma was too close to the end of the barrel for him to miss. She was angry beyond easy measure at her grandmother, but Paige still loved her.

Paige clicked the safety and tossed her pistol