Relics (5 page)

We spent a couple of hours researching Jones, the Masons and the others on our list. Thulu had a connection in the police department, but Jones was unbelievably clean. No arrests, no investigations, nothing, nada, zip, zilch.

Oh, wait, there was one mention in the paper of how he had covered the doctor bills for an elderly lady he accidentally knocked over in a restaurant. It was titled “The Good Samaritan.” I wanted to gag. How the hell was this guy under the radar for everything else?

I turned away from Jones research to try to find something about the Masons.

“Hey Jenna, do you know your address?”

She gave me a look of disbelief. “ 'Course. I'm not a baby. Mommy made me learn it when we moved here.” I stared at her in surprise. “But I don't know how to get to it.”

I laughed at this surprise break. I could have hugged her. “Oh honey, you give me the address and I can help you find it. That's not a problem.” I looked at Thulu. “We are in business, love.”

Fifteen minutes later we were on our way to Jenna's apartment, with Jenna and Parker floating in the back seat. The apartment was in a large complex with several stories. There were no parking spots in front, so we parked on a side street. It was early afternoon, but we saw no one on our way up.

Jenna led us to a door at the end of a carpeted corridor on the fourth floor and floated through it. There was no answer to our knock, not that we'd expected any. Jenna came back out, shoulders slumped, a slight frown on her face.

Thulu has a way with the inanimate, and we were in quickly and smoothly. Inside we found a bright airy apartment. The only odor was a slightly musty one. Definitely no dead bodies. The furnishings were neat, clean and gave away little of the people who lived there. Anonymous was the thought that crossed my mind, as I looked around. Furnished was my second thought. Thulu and I began our search for any information on Jenna's parents.

There was little enough of it. Someone had definitely done a cleanup job. We could find no bills, no personal letters, no identification. Pressing the “on” button on the computer resulted in nothing. The hard drive had been removed.

The bedrooms gave us the same amount of information – drawers and closets filled with clothes that had been neatly put away. I got down on the floor and looked under the bed in Jenna's parents’ room. I flashed a penlight I carried and was about to get back up when a small reflection caught my eye. I got up and moved around the king sized bed to the headboard on the other side. Under the bright print skirting, I found a prescription pill bottle for allergies. The name on it was ‘Carolyn Thomas.’ I handed the bottle to Thulu, who looked at it and tucked it into a pocket. A frown creased his brow, but he simply shook his head when I asked him why. He’d talk when he was ready, but I recognized that he was working through something.

“Jenna, what is your Mom's name?”

“Carolyn Math –” Jenna clapped a hand over her mouth, looking stricken. “I forgot!  I didn't mean to.” She hung her head. “Carolyn Thomath.”

“It's okay, sweetie. You only told me and Thulu, so there is no problem. What is Daddy's name?”

“Matt.”

The Masons weren't using their real last name, that much was clear. Maybe they'd been put into Witness Protection and the protection part had failed somehow. Obviously, they were on the run from something.

Jenna's room held the usual assortment of kid's toys. She didn't seem interested in it once she realized her parents weren't there. Her blue toy still dangled from her fingers, a stuffed monkey, which she often carried by his tail.

“Where are they?” Jenna asked, tears in her voice.

“I don't know yet, Jenna, but Thulu is pretty good at finding people,” I said.

Parker took Jenna's hand. “They'll help you, Jenna. Thulu and La Fi are great at this sort of thing.”

She looked up at him, and he picked her up, gave her a hug and balanced her on one hip. I wondered if Parker had a younger brother or sister. He had an ease with Jenna that usually comes from experience.

“We're going to have to broaden the search, Fi,” Thulu said quietly.

“Does this whole thing feel as weird to you as it does to me?”

“Let's get out of here.”

Locking the door, we headed for the elevator. Parker and Jenna drifted behind us.

When it came, the elevator wasn't empty. A short, stocky man moved forward as Thulu and I stepped to one side. We all nodded to each other as we exchanged places. As the doors closed, I saw him stop and glance back at us. The way he did it made me a bit uneasy. I wished, not for the first time, that I could read minds. Thulu saw the look too, and we both became more alert.

Outside, we noticed a dark car parked across the street. Shade from a tree made it tough to tell if anyone was inside, but I could feel eyes watching us. We moved away and around the corner, where we'd parked the SUV.

“I got the license number. I'll run it when we get back home,” said Thulu.

The feeling of anxiety got stronger as we got closer to home. Parker knew that our home was not our office, and we didn't encourage the supernatural to come calling, although he was an exception and a frequent visitor. He could tell I was feeling uneasy, probably the constant looking over my shoulder clued him in. He volunteered to check out the area. He took off, with Jenna following along behind.

We loved our home and could even see a sliver of ocean in the distance from the windows. It had taken a lot of work, and we had finally finished the last of the restoration a few months before. Restoring a grand old home is a labor of love and can be financial ruin if not planned properly. The partner of a former client had left our house to us. They had restored the ground floor and had lived in the rooms there, leaving the upstairs in need of loving care.

While we kept an eye on our money, it wasn't a big issue for us. Our savings and my trust made it so we'd be fine, even if we never worked another day. But at twenty-six, we wanted to work and the agency did very well. Besides, everything was carefully invested.

Ally's brother, Evan, had become the family's finance wizard and owned a small accounting and investment firm that he ran with his wife, Mara. The two of them were very savvy and reminded me of my parents. They made sure we were secure. 

Most of the time, our work was not very demanding. A lot of it was simply locating stuff or delivering messages, that sort of thing. It was also emotionally rewarding, knowing we were helping folks who had very few options.

Sometimes, we got tougher cases. Get rid of a nasty spirit who refused to move on or deal with non-human entities. Those could be very tricky and involved a lot more caution. At the same time, they were exciting. Pitting our skills against the challenges of those cases and winning was very satisfying to say the least. But we were careful, too. When our instincts were on alert, we paid attention.

Thulu parked the SUV in the garage, and the kids met us in the back yard.

“The house is empty and nothing seems touched, but I'll check the neighborhood, just in case.” Thulu and I nodded our thanks as Parker took off, with Jenna still in tow.

Thulu and I made our way around to the front, looking over the outside as we went up the walk. The house was a rich cream color, with contrasting coral and brick red trim. The front porch ran the width of the house and held plants and a swing.

We went in the front door, locking it behind us and resetting the alarm. A long, wide hallway ran straight to the back door. Light came from the rooms on both sides and from the open stairwell that went up all three stories.

“Let's check out the whole house anyway, okay?” Even though I knew it was empty, my instincts were screaming that something was off somewhere. I just wanted to see for myself.

We moved to look in the first room on our left, the front parlor. The small room was done almost completely in antiques. Of course, no one was there. Beyond that was the formal dining room, which connected to the very modern kitchen. That opened into the hallway and the back door, which led to the enclosed porch. It was empty when I peeked out the window.

We went through the door to the basement. Thulu's woodworking area was clear. The washer and dryer sat silent in their corner, and the door to our small wine cellar was locked.

We went back upstairs and crossed the hallway to check the small bathroom across from the kitchen. The large family room next to it held our more modern furniture, with a big screen TV and a large and super comfy sofa and matching chairs, all in earth tones. Our study was to the right of the front door and held desks with our computers, chairs and a lovely window seat. All available wall space was lined with shelves full of our favorite books. Again, the rooms were clear.

We moved upstairs to the second floor, first checking our own room on the right. Our master suite had been two bedrooms, which we turned into one. There was a tiny morning area with a small breakfast table near the front bay windows. A window seat sat below, giving us a great view of the city. Thulu checked the walk-in closet, while I looked into a bathroom to die for.

Our master bath was one of our big splurges. Walking in it was like stepping into a small forest clearing. Plants were scattered throughout, creating little alcoves. The sunken tub and double vanity were black porcelain, surrounded by black marble. We'd had touch sensitive chrome fixtures installed throughout.

The shower was our crowning glory, though. It was gigantic and diamond-shaped, with the bottom part of the diamond cut off by the smooth glass door. The inside was faced with river rock. Numerous shower heads studded the walls at different heights for a totally luxurious and decadent feeling. I gave the empty room an appreciative smile.

Across the hall were two bedrooms with a connecting bathroom. Thulu checked one, while I checked the other. There was no one on the second floor, so we continued up to the third.

We quickly looked through the top floor. Formerly an attic, it had been partially closed off to make one more bedroom and bathroom. The back part of that floor still had a room for storage and another for our exercise equipment. There was also studio space for Thulu to practice Karate.

I was starting to feel a bit silly as we went back downstairs, grabbed sodas and went to our study. With my internal alarms kicked in, Thulu went to our gun safe in the study and removed our handguns. I double checked my Smith and Wesson .38, but I'd just cleaned it the week before, after we'd gone to the range. I slipped it back into its leather holster and put it in a special section in my purse.

Thulu and I were no slouches when it came to protecting ourselves. He was up to a fifth degree black belt in Karate, and my own street style had improved somewhat as well. At least I liked to think so. We hit the firing range often enough to keep up our skills.

I curled up on the thick cushions in the window seat in our study, while Thulu went to his computer. I stared out the window, trying to sort through my feelings and the facts we had so far. There were really too many small pieces at this point to see exactly where we should go next.

The obvious choice of going straight to Tyler Jones was not our style. We tended to do research and take the safer route where we could. Not that “safe” was really all that safe all the time, but while we'd pulled out the guns in the past, we'd never had to shoot anyone. We also had other means that we used to deal with the less corporeal entities.

A voice came from the air, “Knock, knock.”

“Come on in, Parker.” I answered.

“Jenna is still with me.”

“That’s fine.”

“Always, always ask for permission, Jenna,” I heard him say quietly to Jenna.

“Okay,” she said as they materialized.

Parker told us that he didn't find anyone in the area that seemed suspicious – living or dead or otherwise.

“I think we should stay here, La Fi. I can keep an eye out. I promise to stay visible.”