Page 47 of Deadly Avarice
Anger flared, tightening my chest. “They refuse to treat you?”
Boone started to shake his head but must have thought better of it. “I didn’t say that. But it’s pretty clear they don’t like touching me and…examining me. It’s awkward,” he added with a shrug.
Inhaling, I attempted to scrub the anger from my soul. It was a fruitless endeavor. Medical professionals should fucking know better.
“Momma found a doctor that doesn’t mind and who’s respectful. If it gets too bad, I’ll give her a call. She’s a GP, but it would be a start.”
Rubbing a hand between Boone’s shoulder blades, I offered what support I could and answered, “Whatever makes you the most comfortable.”
“Thanks, Franklin.” Boone’s grateful grin made my heart skip a beat. That grin slipped as he turned his attention back to the meager remains. Eyes slipping closed, Boone said, “Thomas Martin Speedler, I call your soul back to your body.”
I’d seen this song and dance before—with an intact corpse and nothing more than a pile of ash. I’d never seen it with a few bits and pieces of bones. Those fragments rattled around in their box, vibrating like there was an earthquake only they could feel. Those fragments became quiescent again right before a voice said, “Necromancer, why did you bring me back again?”
“Fucking hell,” Cardoza muttered and when I glanced his direction, sweat glistened across his ashen brow. Eyes wide,Cardoza’s gaze flicked around the room, looking for the source of the voice.
“You won’t find anyone,” I said, trying to help so Boone could concentrate. “I’ve seen this before. Don’t ask me how, but Boone is channeling enough of his necromancer mojo into Speedler’s soul that he can speak.”
Cardoza swallowed hard enough for me to see his Adam’s apple bob. With a firm nod, Cardoza spoke with the only other living person in the room, an officer he’d pulled in to visually and auditorily record the situation. “You getting this, Maze?”
Officer Maze’s mouth slipped open, closing before any words escaped. Trying again, his voice was scratchy when Maze finally answered, “Recording.”
That brief answer was good enough for Cardoza and he turned his attention back to Boone.
“Feel free to ask your questions,” Boone said.
Cardoza still appeared puzzled and finally said, “I don’t know where to look.”
Boone waved a hand toward the remains. “He’s hanging around his bones. I don’t have enough to work with to make Thomas Speedler visible.”
“Voice is enough,” Cardoza answered.
Boone said, “Thomas Speedler, this is Detective Emmanuel Cardoza. He would like to ask you—”
“Detective!” That singular word was a mix of relief and excitement. “Is he here to investigate my death?”
“He is,” Boone answered. “Remember what we discussed last time. I will know if you attempt to lie. Doing so is not in the best interest of your soul. I can and will force you to tell the truth.”
“Why would I lie?” Speedler asked, genuinely confused. “I want that fucker to pay.”
Cardoza’s voice was surprisingly calm when he asked, “And whatfuckerwould that be?”
Speedler’s words came out more a growl than human. “Titus McMahon.”
Cardoza stepped closer and said, “Tell me everything, from the beginning.”
Speedler didn’t skimp on details and when Cardoza needed clarification, Speedler was all too happy to provide it. The interview lasted nearly two hours. I could see Boone flagging toward the end and continuously shoved candy at him. I took that two-hour window to text Warlock Holland, letting him know I had eyes on his son and that Boone did appear to be relatively unharmed. I also texted his momma and later, Captain Cicely. Turns out, I had taken a brief second to let her know I was headed out. I hadn’t given many details, only screamed that Boone was in trouble and took off like a bat out of hell. She’d left two voicemails and three texts asking me to contact her with information. I figured I was on Captain Cicely’s shit list. Not because I’d left to take care of Boone, but because I’d been late updating her on the situation. Looks like I’d need to purchase two fruit baskets.
Cardoza promised to keep me in the loop, and I promised him the same. While this wasn’t my jurisdiction, like hell I’d sit back and trust someone else to investigate. Cardoza seemed on the up-and-up. Neither Becks nor I had been able to dig up any dirt on the man. Regardless, I still planned on investigating. I knew without a doubt that Captain Cicely would back me up.
Boone wasn’t shaking when we left, but his shoulders were slumped and he kept rubbing the back of his neck. When I asked if he was out of pain charms, Boone grimaced and said he needed to know how bad the situation was and if he really needed to make an appointment with the doctor he’d told me about earlier. While I didn’t like him in pain, I understood. Holland’s pain charms were useful, but they could mask a deeper problem.
Boone thanked me when I helped him into my SUV, making sure he was buckled in before closing his door. Climbing into the driver’s seat, I started the vehicle and backed out of the parking lot.
“Food?” I asked.
“That would be wonderful,” Boone answered as he leaned his head back into the passenger’s seat, eyes slipping closed.
“Sit down or drive-thru?”
