Page 23 of The Aura Answer
“Turd Sr. did not. It was locked, and I left it that way.”
Which meant the bomb shelter exit was probably in the clerk’s office and that’s how Evie had confiscated the keys.
“I need to figure out which of these keys belongs to the emergency exit to the bomb shelter because that door was unlocked. No wonder Bertie and friends got in and out so easily. They could take the clerk’s keys anytime they liked.” She stepped under the hole in the ceiling and looked up.
At least she was still speaking to him. “I’ve told the sheriff. That means anyone who had access to that tunnel could have hidden in the attic.”
“Yeah. Our suspect list continues to grow. Bertie is useless. I need to talk to Butcher Block.” She swung the keys and glanced from one courtroom to the other.
“I thought we decided to call him Artie. Where did Butcher come from?”
“Bertie. Although maybe it should be Butchered, but that doesn’t work so well.”
Jax gestured to where they stood. “Can’t be certain it was him, but I think I felt our late mayor right here in the hall. The air is about thirty degrees warmer than a few minutes ago. Why is spirit energy so cold?”
“Need a spiritual physicist to explain that. Or maybe a specialist in hell. Heck if I know.” She sounded more interested and less disgruntled. “Which chamber would he hide in?”
“There are only two. Block spent a lot of time in Satterwhite’s courtroom. Try that first?” Jax couldn’t believe he was condoning breaking and entering. Well, they had keys. Trespassing maybe.
“You should go on,” she said, as if hearing his thoughts. Or reading his aura. “You need to stay squeaky clean.”
“Not until you leave. Clancy’s ghost blew transformers. Block might open hell gates.” He followed her through the courtroom to the chamber door.
She snorted. “Someone’s been reading fantasy.”
“When you’re living in a hell hole, you want to hear how they work.” The base camp library in Afghanistan had been stocked with that kind of fictional delusion. He’d not finished any of it.
She found a key that let her in. Satterwhite liked his chambers cool—or was saving energy. But even Jax could tell the office was ghostless.
Evie locked up and they traipsed across the hall. Below, windows crashed and workmen cursed. Someone played loud music. Anything sounded better than a mob.
“Bertie seems to think he left his surprise sketch in the attic. It’s not there. He can’t tell me what’s on it.” She found the key to Rhodes’ office and opened it. “Oh yeah, baby.”
The room was cold enough to freeze fish.
Nine
The children were laughingin the kitchen as Gracie typed the last line on her second chapter. She’d been up since before dawn. She was entitled to a break. Pris probably was too—especially since she was pretty certain Pris and Dante had finally hit the sack together and probably weren’t getting much sleep.
It made her feel a little lonely that she didn’t have anyone to cuddle with, but she was done with men. They just complicated her already complicated life.
She saved her work, set the laptop on the library table with the blueprints Evie had scavenged, and again admired the new shelves. The moth-eaten velvet draperies needed to come down. Maybe some gauzy gold curtains, floor-length, the kind with grommets she could just shove the pole through, for an airy look. The walls in here had escaped Evie’s penchant for rainbow colors and were ivory. They could use a good scrub, but they shouldn’t need painting.
Apparently, deprived of her own home, she was redesigning Evie’s.
She traipsed into the kitchen where Pris and Dante vied for the attention of the twins, and Aster painstakingly iced a sugar cookie.
“Tathe teth, Mommy.” Evidently imitating her elders, her daughter held out a glitter-bedecked Santa cookie.
“I should probably eat lunch first. Has anyone else eaten?” She opened the refrigerator to a mind-boggling collection of bowls.
“Pris has been feeding us all morning. A few more hours in here, and I probably won’t be able to move from this booth.” Dante held up an empty plate.
“Captive audience,” Gracie’s normally scowling cousin said, almost smacking her lips in delight. Sex was apparently good for her. “Try some of the pasta salad in the green bowl.”
Maybe she needed sex to get into the Christmas spirit.
“Mr. Dante thez we can watch Dithney on his laptop.” Aster added cinnamon buttons to her Santa. Psycat had taken the stool beside her, his tail twitching as he eyed the platter of cookies for anything fishlike.
