“If you get tired, just take a cab home,” Ari said. “You have the address and I’ll give you a key.”
“Actually,” Peggin said, “if you drop me off at your house before your appointment, I can take my own car downtown and then maybe drive around the bay for a bit.”
I told Tabitha we’d be there in an hour or so. After that, we lingered over our lunch, which Ari insisted on paying for, then drove back to Ari’s house where we dropped off Peggin. She waved, looking quite happy to meander on her own for a while.
As we headed for Tabitha’s house, I filled Ari in on what the client had told me. “I’m not sure what’s going on,” I said, “but she sounded absolutely frantic.”
“I can think of several potential causes, the most notable one that she might need a therapist,” Ari said. “But maybe something’s clouding her sight? Maybe the baby’s picked up an attachment. It’s rare for someone so young, but it’s not unheard of.”
“Yeah. Whatever the case turns out to be, we need to make certain that nothing we do will hurt the child, and that she’s not so distraught that she would try to hurt the girl. If we have any doubts, we contact Millie and have her call Child Protective Services. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Ari said.
We stopped at my house to pick up my bag of magical supplies, then drove to the other side of town where Tabitha Sweet lived. When Tabitha met us at the door, I immediately pegged her as human. She seemed to have some psychic abilities, but she wasn’t witchblood.
“Thank you for coming,” she said, letting us in. “I was afraid you wouldn’t.”
“What seems to be the problem?” I asked as she led us into the bungalow. It was tidy—neat as a pin, actually—and everything felt very cozy. However, as I searched for any protective magic or wards, I could sense nothing. The house was wide open and vulnerable. “You have no magical protection on your house at all, do you?”
She shrugged. “I never thought I’d need it. I’m not witchblood, and neither is my daughter.”
“How old is she?”
“She’s barely a year old. She just turned a year last week. But…” She paused, looking thoroughly miserable.
“What’s wrong? Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Ari said. “May we sit down?”
“Oh, where are my manners?” Her hand flew to her mouth and she looked miserable. “I’m so sorry. Come in, please, and have a seat. Would you like something to drink?”
“We just had lunch, thank you, so we’re fine.” As I sat down on the leather sofa in the living room, I looked around. The room was shabby chic, but it looked deliberately decorated, not like she had tried to spruce it up on a thrift-store budget.
“My name is Tabitha, but you know that.”
“Who lives here with you?” Ari said. “Besides your daughter? And what is her name?”
“Zoey and I live here alone. Her father—my ex-boyfriend—moved out seven months ago. We broke up. He pays his child support, but he wasn’t ready to be a father. He wants nothing to do with either of us. I have sole custody. He left me his medical records so if we ever need information regarding her medical heritage, we have it, but he said he doesn’t want to hear from her. Ever.” She hung her head. “I don’t know what I’ll tell her as she grows up.”
“All right, so the father is out of the picture. You and Zoey live here alone?”
She nodded. “Now. I had a live-in nanny, but she left two weeks ago. I think she stole Zoey.”
I glanced at Ari, raising my eyebrows just the slightest bit. “Why do you say that?”
“Because the baby in that room isn’t my baby. I know. Mothers know, damn it!” Tabitha threw up her hands, bursting into tears. “The cops think I’m off my rocker, and so does my doctor. I took Zoey in to his office the other day, demanding he test her blood. He did. He said that there’s no doubt it’s Zoey. He told me that I’m under a lot of stress and to get some rest. But I know my baby, and the creature in that crib is not my Zoey.”
“And you think the nanny left…a replacement? Or do you think that the baby’s possessed?”
“Either…both…I don’t know.” Tabitha nodded, her tears staining her face. “She looks like Zoey and sounds like Zoey, and apparently has the same blood type, but I know my baby, and that thing isn’t Zoey.”
“Can we meet her?” I said.
Tabitha nodded. “I’ll get her—”
“Why don’t you just take us into her room?” Ari interjected.
Tabitha led us into the nursery. At first glance, everything seemed normal. There were piles of toys around the room, though tidy piles, and a rocking chair painted white, with the walls a pale blush pink. The crib was over in the corner, away from the window, and inside was a beautiful little girl. I had little to no maternal drive—except when it came to animals—but she was cute enough and when we entered the room, she stood and reached out for Tabitha, who just stared at her.
Ari hoisted the baby into her arms, propping her against one hip. “Well, hello there.” She gave Tabitha a long look, then said, “If you’d leave us alone for a few minutes?”
Tabitha nodded and, without a single look back at the baby, left the room, shutting the door behind her. Ari let out a sigh and sat down in the rocking chair. I sat on the ottoman next to her.
“So, what the hell is going on? Should we report her to CPS?”
“The baby looks well fed. I don’t think she’s skimping on care for the child, except in the emotional arena. Did you see that look Tabitha shot her?” Ari shook her head. “All right, let’s take a look at you,” she said to Zoey.
We looked at the baby, who was wearing a onesie. I took the baby’s onesie off and we checked her for any noticeable marks, but there were none. In fact, her skin looked incredibly smooth. As far as I knew all babies had smooth skin, but there was something different about Zoey. I just couldn’t pinpoint what was it was.
“She looks fine, and the doctor’s report said she’s healthy. But…now that we’re alone with her, I do feel something odd. It’s like…” I paused, trying to pinpoint my feeling. “Can you feel anything?”
Ari nodded. “Yeah, though I can’t pin it down.”
At that moment, Zoey looked at me, and I caught something in her eyes—a sneakiness of sorts. There was something slightly feral about her, and it concerned me. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but I think Tabitha is right. Now whether this is actually her daughter Zoey, I don’t know. But there’s something…odd about the child. She unsettles me,” I said, staring back at the baby. “She seems so much…older.”
“Older, yes. And she’s listening to us,” Ari said, very slowly holding the baby away from her. “I’m putting her back in the crib.”
She settled the child back in the crib and stepped away. I was watching Zoey’s expression and instead of the bland baby stare, once again a feral light entered the baby’s eyes. The moment she caught me looking at her, it vanished and she gurgled and waved her hands toward Ari.