Page 64 of Deadly Avarice
Franklin grunted. “I’m not sure that applies to this situation.”
“Maybe not, but I’m still glad you told me.” I twisted my head enough that Franklin could lean down and kiss me. While that didn’t exactly stimulate my appetite, it did erase at least a layer of filth lying across my soul.
Releasing me, Franklin grabbed a spatula and plated our food. Somewhere along the line, he’d already poured our drinks. We headed for the table, and despite the information I’d just learned, I still managed to pack away most of the food. The uneasy feeling of being watched from earlier was long gone. I could only assume that meant Aurelia had left, although Icouldn’t be certain. Next time she showed herself, we were definitely going to have a conversation.
“I heard from Janet Meeker,” I said after finishing my meal. “She says Wednesday or Thursday should work out.”
“This week?”
I nodded. “I’d like to get this done sooner rather than later. I’ve got a client tomorrow, but it’s an easy retrieval.” I called recalling souls that sometimes.Retrievalsounded better than a lot of other words. “I’m not sure how that works with your schedule, especially considering what’s going on with Billy Davies.”
Franklin shook his head while swallowing his latest bite. “No, it’s fine, but Wednesday would definitely be better.”
“I’ll send Janet a text tonight. As a matter of fact, I’ll do it now.” I pulled out my phone and typed out a brief message before hitting the send button. “She’ll probably be happy. I know she really wants to get things settled with her granddaddy.” I don’t know why, but I always found that endearment cringeworthy.
“I’ll speak with the captain. I’m sure we can work it out.”
Franklin and I cleaned up dinner and moved to the living room. We seldom watched TV Not that the television wasn’t on, it was just muted or turned down very low. Typically, we had it on one of the home renovation channels. An older episode ofInterspecies Habitatwas on, and I cuddled into Franklin’s side. “Oh, this is a good one. It’s about a Yeti and phoenix shifter.”
“Christ, how in the hell does that work?” Franklin asked.
“Watch and see. Parsnip’s a genius.” I wasn’t sure if the pixie, Parsnip was really the mastermind behind the home renovations or not. He was the host and this episode was old enough that his hair was still shades of turquoise—lighter at the crown of his head and darkening as it lengthened. It was an illusion created by a charm. That piece of subterfuge had been revealedduring an episode about Lucroy Moony and Peaches. Turns out, Parsnip had barely survived a long stint of ogre captivity. He’d almost faded completely. He’d survived, but his colors hadn’t. Parsnip’s hair, wings, and pixie dust were now varying shades of gray. He retained a few aqua strands of hair, just enough to show a hint of his previous colors. Parsnip was stunning no matter what his colors were.
Franklin tried to watch but he was too tired and soon his soft puffs of barely there snores tickled against the skin on my neck. Sexy times would need to wait. I didn’t mind. This was enough. More than enough.
Relaxing into the couch, I felt my eyelids droop. Franklin and I would make it into the bedroom sometime, but for now, I lay there, enjoying the warmth of his body connecting with mine.
As expected, Janet Meeker was thrilled to meet on Wednesday. I already had the address, so our communication was brief. She’d wished me amuch safer tripto Louisiana. Janet had added a winking emoji after those words that made my eyebrow arch. The winking emoji made lighter of my near-death encounter than I currently felt. Then again, she didn’t know what truly happened, only that something serious had occurred. Besides, people handled things like that differently. Maybe Janet’s default was making light of horrific events. I didn’t like to judge.
I was on my way back early from my job today. Elsa Fitzgibbon was an elderly (and very posh) woman who desperately wanted to know why her husband had left his beloved banjo to a middle-aged woman Elsa had never heard of or met before. That question had been haunting Elsa for the pastthree years. It was twisting her memories and causing her a lot of mental angst. She’d finally had enough and contacted me.
This was one of my easier and happier cases. Turns out, Mr. Bruce Fitzgibbon’s reasoning hadn’t been anything nefarious or salacious. While, yes, he had been a traveling salesman and had many opportunities to stray from his wife, Bruce had never done so. His love and devotion to Elsa sang through his soul, just as the devastation learning that he’d caused her pain had.
I’d lost count of the number of times Bruce apologized. Turns out, during one of his trips to New Orleans, he’d come across a woman whose haunting songs and touching lyrics had gripped his soul. He’d gone back to that small bar and sat and listened to her on numerous occasions. Time away from Elsa was always the worst part of Bruce’s job and spending time in that bar, listening to the woman sing, gave him ease. He’d left the banjo to her as a form of gratitude.
Elsa’s relieved tears dripped down her wrinkled cheeks, but her smile lit up the room. She’d apologized just as much for “being silly.” I didn’t think she was thatsillybut that was just my opinion.
In the end, bringing back Bruce Fitzgibbon’s soul had eased Elsa’s. She’d thanked me profusely and even offered a tip which I’d declined. While the gesture was nice, the pleasure I received from touching Bruce’s soul was more than enough.
I was in a good mood as I drove back home. And then my phone rang. The caller ID came up as unknown. I thought the area code looked familiar but couldn’t place it exactly. I accepted the call.
“This is Erasmus Boone.” If I thought it was a work-related call, I answered with my necromancer title.
“Necromancer Boone. It is good to hear your voice.”
I cringed as Tenzen Huxley’s smokey, jagged voice pricked at my skin. Clearing my throat, I hesitantly answered, “And, uh…yours too.” I mentally cringed at how insincere that sounded.
Tenzen’s laughter was like a living thing, filtering through my phone speaker and filling my rental car. “I appreciate the attempt at politeness.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“It is fine. I am hardly offended.”
Tenzen didn’tsoundoffended. Clearing my throat, I attempted to get this conversation back on more pleasant ground. “Thank you for convincing the Warlock Council to release the list of necromancer mother names.”
“You are very welcome. I trust you received the list without any inconvenience.”
I thought about complaining about how we’d gotten the list, or more precisely, who’d turned it over along with the very limited information on it, but kept those annoyances to myself. With Franklin, Captain Cicely, and Officer Becks’s help, we’d get through it. “I received everything fine.”
