Chapter 21

As soon as Sean hit the Anaheim Hills area on his drive back, traffic slowed to a crawl. Worry gnawed at him as he crept forward. Why is Michael so interested in Catlyn? Sean thought she was pretty special, but most people wouldn’t. Did her being a psychic target her? But then, why weren’t other psychics, who were more prominent than Catlyn, Michael’s focus? By the time he reached Newport Beach, his anxiety had transformed into fury. He’d do everything in his power to ensure Michael wouldn’t hurt Catlyn!

Sean stalked into the Red Orchid and toward his quarry ensconced in his regular booth, several of his buddies with him. Sean pushed through the crowd and stood over Michael’s table, trembling with rage.

“Oh, let me guess,” Michael said with a sneer, “there’s been another murder. Let’s save time, Detective. Me and the boys here took the yacht out and had a poker tournament.” Michael leaned back, rolling his tumbler between his hands. “It started Wednesday evening and went on all weekend. We didn’t finish until last night. The prizes were Cuban cigars, a bottle of Dalmore 40-Year-Old Single Highland Malt Scotch Whisky—that’s expensive scotch, by the way, $2,600 a bottle—and first pick of the girls. I won the scotch and the girl. I had a great time with her.”

Sean’s stomach clenched, thinking about what Lisa had endured before she’d died. He glared at Michael. “I’m sure you did. You’ll make a mistake soon, Michael, if you haven’t already. I’ll be there to catch you when you fall.” He turned on his heel, not bothering to ask Michael’s friends for corroboration—they’d only lie—and stomped out of the club.

Outside, the cool, crisp air of late autumn cleared Sean’s head. Too many mutilated bodies filled his mind. When it was quiet, he heard their screams and entreaties for help. If he believed in ghosts, he’d swear the victims were haunting him, begging him to give them rest. When he talked to his granny again, he’d ask her about ghosts. He now knew demons, dragons, fae, and pixies were real. Why not ghosts?

Sean sat in his car, staring blankly at the parking lot, dreading his next stop. Over the years, he’d told many people their loved ones were gone, but he hadn’t personally known any of them. He didn’t want to watch Catlyn’s eyes well up with grief and sorrow. He’d much rather see them twinkle with laughter—and maybe love, if he were lucky.

Sitting here wouldn’t help him find the right words to tell Catlyn another friend had been murdered. He hated this part of his job. Finally, he started his car and drove to the Mystical Enchantments store.

His breath caught as he watched Catlyn through the window, helping a customer at the register. Every time he saw her, she seemed more confident, more graceful, and more beautiful. He shook his head as if that would negate the feelings blooming within him. It would be wrong for him to fall in love with her while investigating her friend’s murder. He waited until the customer left before going inside.

Catlyn saw him and gave him a welcoming smile. Her smile faltered, and the color drained from her face. “She’s dead, isn’t she? Lisa’s dead.”

He nodded and scooted across the counter. “We found her body today.”

She covered her face with her hands. Sean tentatively touched her shoulder. She lowered her hands, revealing tears brimming in her eyes.

“Why are my friends being targeted, Detective?”

“I don’t know, Catlyn, but I’m doing my best to find out. Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine…” The tears she’d held back flowed down her face.

Sean’s protective instincts kicked in, and before he could think better of it, he hopped over the counter and pulled her into an embrace. Her quiet sobs filled the space between them. He wished he could do more for her. His thoughts flirted with bending down and kissing her tears away. Instead, he rested his chin gently on her head, regretting his ethics prevented him from following his desire.

After several minutes, Catlyn sniffed, wiped her face, and stepped back from him. With her eyes lowered, she murmured, “Thanks. I’m sorry if I messed up your shirt.”

He glanced down at the darker blue spots on his shirt. Already he missed holding her. “It will dry.”

“If there isn’t anything else, I need to lockup.” She pulled her shoulders back, and when she looked at him, she’d hidden her emotions behind a mask of professionalism.

“I’ll wait and walk you to your car.” He wanted to spend more time with her.

She didn’t object, and he stood off to the side, out of her way. Her quiet movements of turning off lamps, blowing out candles, and straightening up relaxed him and made him feel peaceful. It helped to squash the memory of her mutilated friend hanging by meat hooks from his mind.

Another friend dead—murdered. Catlyn had been wrong to think the Tower card hadn’t come into play yet. How many more friends would she lose before the struggle of the Nine of Swords was through? She remembered the Star card and held onto the hope everything would work out in the end.

Catlyn sneaked glances at Sean as she worked her way around the store, shutting it down for the night. He’d startled her when he’d scrambled over the counter, but it had been so nice to have someone hold her while she cried. Her tears still darkened his blue silk shirt. As she thought about it, none of her previous boyfriends had shown her such compassion. She and Sean weren’t even dating.

A smile curved her lips. She hoped they would. An image of Catlyn and Sean cuddling—naked—in bed floated through her mind. A purr rumbled in her throat. Maak apparently approved of Sean.

“I’m finished,” she said. “We can go out the back way.”

Sean followed her, frowning at the dimly lit parking lot. “You should be more careful, especially if Michael is targeting you and your friends.”

“I have protection.” She pointed to the big white Chevy truck parked next to her tiny Honda Civic and grimaced. Even though she understood the necessity of it, she still hated having a guard babysit her. “My godmother has assigned a detail to watch me.”

Sean stiffened beside her, then let out a relieved laugh. “Charlie? Charlie MacNamara is one of your bodyguards?”

Catlyn’s eyes widened. “You know him?”

“He’s my best buddy. We grew up together.” Sean made a beeline for Charlie’s truck, pulling her with him.

Charlie exited the truck wearing a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I couldn’t tell you, bro. You know, client privacy and all.”

“You’re keeping a good watch on her, aren’t you?”

Charlie gave an offended huff. “Why are you here?”

“They found Lisa’s body.” Catlyn sniffed, trying to staunch the tears that threatened to flow again. Sean patted her back, and she longed to sink into his embrace. But she wouldn’t in front of Charlie. He’d tell her godmother, and that would be the end of any burgeoning romance between her and Sean. Jade never thought anyone was good enough for her goddaughter. She was worse than Catlyn’s Aunt Lucy.

“I’m so sorry, Catlyn.” Charlie’s eyes filled with sympathy. “We tried to protect her. I don’t know how she disappeared from her apartment. Are you sure you won’t go live at Jade’s house until this blows over?”

Catlyn shook her head.

“At least let Ariana stay with you.”

“No. I’ll be fine.” Catlyn doubted Michael could take on Maak.

“It’s late,” Sean said, glancing at his watch.

Catlyn’s shoulders slumped. She didn’t want to be alone. And she wanted to spend more time with Sean.

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” he added.

She straightened and gave him a shy smile. “No, I haven’t. There’s a Tres Toros close by that is still open.”

“Perfect! I love Mexican food. Why don’t you join us, Charlie? No need for you to sit out in your truck while we eat.”

Charlie considered for a moment. “Sure, why not? For a hole-in-the-wall, Tres Toros has excellent fish tacos, and I’m hungry.”

“Catlyn, would you like to ride with me?” Sean asked, then grinned at Charlie. “There won’t be much room to park. Charlie’s monster will take up half the space.”

“You’re just jealous you don’t have a truck.” Charlie laughed as he punched Sean on his bicep.

Sean made a face, acting as if the punch had knocked him over. Catlyn chuckled at their antics. Their playfulness helped lighten her mood. She didn’t have any siblings, but she’d grown up with her cousins and had seen Tommy joke around with his friends the same way.

Sean opened the car door for her, and she slid inside. While he walked to the driver’s side, she studied his car. Unlike hers, no fast-food wrappers, empty water bottles, or unopened junk mail littered the interior. The air freshener smelled new and there weren’t any smudges on the leather seats or windows. It looked like he’d recently washed it. A holder for a notebook was attached to the dash, as well as other paraphernalia she assumed was related to his job.

During the short drive to the restaurant, they talked the entire way. Catlyn thought about her last date with Karl and the long, uncomfortable, silent drive into LA. She found Sean easy to talk to, and he didn’t look down on her for her “weird” occupation or style of dress. He had her laughing so hard when they walked to the restaurant’s entrance that she had to stop to catch her breath.

When they were seated, Catlyn fiddled with her fork, worried she’d be left out of the conversation because Sean and Charlie were such close friends. But within moments, they included her. She’d spent some time with Charlie simply because he worked with her godmother—and he’d attended a number of Sabbat rituals Jade facilitated. It had surprised her the first time he showed up. She wouldn’t have pegged him as a pagan.

“Jade is doing a healing ritual at the shop on Thursday,” Catlyn said, in between bites of her cheese enchilada. “Charlie, you can come in and join us. You don’t have to wait outside.”

“I just might. It’s been a bad month.” Charlie filled a tortilla chip with beans, rice, and salsa, then stuffed it in his mouth. He looked over at Sean. “Hey, you should come. How long has it been since you’ve been to a ritual?”

Sean grimaced. “I haven’t been to one since Dad forbade me to go see Granny Eileen. That’s been a long time now. He became a devout Catholic and turned his back on anything Granny or Grandpappy had taught us.”

“It’s a simple ritual,” Catlyn explained, “more of a healing circle, with crystal bowls, a gong, and meditation.”

“After all the shit you’ve seen lately, Sean, you could use it,” Charlie said.

Sean put down his fork and rubbed his face. When he lowered his hands, despair filled his eyes. “You’re right, Charlie. This last one was the most gruesome yet.” He cast a horrified look at Catlyn. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I forgot the victim was your friend.”

The abject sorrow on Sean’s face moved Catlyn. He seemed to care deeply about the murdered people he investigated. She reached across the table and patted his hand. “You don’t have to apologize. I understand. You must see so much hurt in your job.”

Sean squeezed his eyes shut. “Most of the time, I can handle it. But this Iron Maiden Killer is a sick psychopath.”

“You should ask Eileen to come with us,” Charlie suggested. “I bet she’d love it.”

“She would.” Sean’s face lit up. “She’d enjoy meeting Catlyn, too. Maybe you could give her a sound healing the same day?”

“I’d love to!” Catlyn longed to meet Sean’s grandmother. She sounded like a fascinating lady.

“There’s a problem. I’d have to drive to Temecula and pick her up. She doesn’t drive much these days. And it would depend on my work schedule. With everything that’s been happening, I might not even be able to go.”

“Well, it’s at the Mystical Enchantments at seven, in case you can,” Catlyn told him. One of the things she yearned for in a relationship—that she hadn’t found yet—was to share her spirituality with her partner.

They finished eating and Sean drove her back to her car.

“I’ll try going to the healing ritual.” He laid his hand over hers. “I had a great time tonight with you, even if Charlie hogged most of the conversation.”

Catlyn grinned, her heart expanding. “He did, didn’t he? Thank you for taking my mind off of Lisa and Amelia for a while.” She waited a moment, hoping Sean would lean over and kiss her. She let out a sigh of disappointment when he exited the car and went around it to open her door.

Wednesday evening, only three days after the police found Lisa’s body, Catlyn slipped into a dark gray dress. The only black dress in her closet was the one Lisa loaned her, and she couldn’t bring herself to wear it to Lisa’s funeral. Catlyn settled her mother’s pendant around her neck. The diamond in the center of the seven-pointed star sparkled, a bright point in all the darkness in Catlyn’s life.

Her phone beeped, letting her know Bri had pulled into the parking lot. Catlyn threw on a black shawl and trudged down the stairs, the tears already threatening to flow. She hadn’t bothered putting on any mascara; her tears would wash it away in a few minutes. Out of habit, she scanned the area around her apartment. The scent of Smoker Dude’s awful cigarettes made her gag. Todd, her bodyguard for the day, waved at her, reassuring her she was safe.

Lydia sat in the backseat of Bri’s car and gave Catlyn a sad smile. The three women, including Lisa, had become friends through the classes held at Mystical Enchantments. The unusual quiet as Bri drove to the funeral home nagged at Catlyn. She recalled the many trips the girlfriends had taken. Laughter and music had filled the car then. Never again would Lisa cackle like a witch, scrunch up her nose, and wiggle her fingers while saying, “I’ll get you, my pretty,” in response to Lydia’s teasing.

“I can’t believe she’s gone,” Catlyn said, to fill the empty silence.

“I remember when we met her,” Bri said, switching lanes. “It was the first crystal class she took at the store…”

“Her first witchy class, ever,” Lydia added. “She was so scared, but that didn’t stop her.”

“Yeah.” Catlyn smiled at the memory. “She never let anything stop her. She was always so brave.”

They continued to reminisce about the good times they’d had together with Lisa until they walked into the funeral home. The sight of the casket sitting at the front, surrounded by flowers, sobered Catlyn. She didn’t want to know what atrocities the damned serial killer had committed before Lisa had succumbed to death. It had to be awful for her family to insist on a closed casket.

When she walked up to the casket to pay her respects, an overwhelming stench made Catlyn’s eyes water. No one else seemed to notice it, but it reminded her of Smoker’s Dude’s nasty cigarettes. What does Michael want from me? Will this be my fate? Tears rolled down Catlyn’s face.

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Maak whispered. “It will be that weasel who will lie in a casket and not you.”

Catlyn shivered at the vehemence in Maak’s voice. Bri noticed and reached over to pat Catlyn’s hand. Catlyn gripped her best friend’s hand. She couldn’t live if another friend was killed. Why me? Why my friends?

After the funeral, Bri drove to the Applebee’s restaurant by the metaphysical store for dinner. It had been one of Lisa’s favorite places to eat at after classes. This would be their own memorial for their lost friend.

Catlyn ordered her steak rare, rather than barely seared she truly craved. Her mouth salivated when the waitress set the huge plate of meat in front of her, bloody juice pooling around the mashed potatoes.

Bri glanced over, did a double-take, then frowned. “Since when do you eat your steak rare? As long as I’ve known you, you’ve always asked for it well-done. If there’s any blood on the plate, you send it back.”

Catlyn picked up her utensils. “Tastes change. I discovered I like it better this way. It has more flavor.” She took another bite, savoring the warmed blood and juices running down her throat. She growled in pleasure.

“Was that a growl?” Bri laughed.

Catlyn threw a hand over her mouth to cover her embarrassment. “No. It was a moan. This just tastes so good. The chef did an excellent job cooking it.”

“Whatever floats your boat.” Bri cut into her chicken breast.

Quiet ruled as the group dug into their food, but once they had assuaged their hunger, they shared stories about Lisa. As the laughter and wine flowed, the conversation shifted to talking about their lives, and hopes and dreams, in an affirmation they still lived. Lydia regaled them about her new boyfriend. The scent of lust wafted off her, stinging Catlyn’s nose. She sniffed deeply to get a better whiff and detected an underpinning of love.

“You’re falling in love with him,” Catlyn blurted.

Lydia’s eyes widened, and she dropped her fork. “No, I’m not! Well, maybe a little. But how did you know? You didn’t do a reading, did you?”

Catlyn shook her head. “No. I can sense it in the way you talk about him.” She refused to tell her friends she could smell emotions. Even the most open-minded ones, like Bri, wouldn’t understand.