“That’s a good point. The only way I can see it making sense is if the seducer part is true and it became obsessed with Danielle. How old is she? Maybe she was ovulating and it has some biological impulse?” Hank suggested.
“I hate to think of that, but you might be right. That’s the only way I can see that this would track.” I turned to Tad. “Is she human and how old is she?”
“I don’t know if she’s human, and I’d place her at around twenty-eight, twenty-nine. Prime breeding years.” Tad frowned. “Shall we set up surveillance around her house?”
“That’s the thing—this isn’t like a case where we can use our fancy equipment to catch a ghost on tape. If she’s right, we’re talking about a physical intruder. I’d rather let the cops check it out first, because if someone is stalking Danielle, it might be human or Otherkin, rather than a ULM.”
ULM was the moniker we’d begun using for urban legend monster—the cases that had nothing to do with the spiritual/demonic world, but still were out of reference to the ordinary. It made it much easier to formulate a plan of action.
“Then call Millie and ask her to set up a stakeout at Danielle’s house for a few nights. If it proves to be something the cops aren’t prepared to deal with, we’ll go in,” Caitlin said.
“That’s a good idea,” Tad said, after thinking for a moment. “I’ll give her a call. I don’t like stepping on the local authorities’ toes, and that would circumnavigate that possibility. Also, it would give us the chance to investigate further and make sure that this is truly a paranormal incident. We sure as hell don’t want to cross paths with a serial killer.”
I finished my latte and moodily stared at my desk. “What do you really think we’re dealing with?”
Tad leaned back in his chair, propping his sneakered feet on the table. He was definitely limber and yoga-friendly. “My instinct tells me we’re dealing with something out of the ordinary here. I wasn’t overly impressed with Danielle, but to me, her story rang true.”
“Maybe her story’s true, but she’s pretty plastic,” Hank said.
“What strikes you as off about her?” Caitlin asked. “I’m curious to know if it’s the same thing that I’m feeling.”
“She’s an attention hound,” Hank said. “I think she jumps at any chance to be the center of attention. I checked out her social media, to get an idea of what she’s like. Not only would I dub her the selfie-queen, but she plays the false modesty card a lot, and she’s recently broken up with her longtime beau. I think this makes her feel special. She’s mentioned it a couple times on her Photogram and that she’s got a stalker, but she’s giggly about it. So I’m not so sure I buy the story about her being all that afraid.” He shrugged. “That doesn’t mean I think she’s lying, but she’s overly excited, and not in that ‘oh crap’ way that victims usually have.”
“Drama llama?” I asked.
Hank nodded. “Exactly.”
“Good eye,” Tad said. “I’ve met enough people like that in my life. Some were male, some female, but they all thrived on drama that kept them in the spotlight. Why don’t we take a break and then we’ll discuss what to do about January’s creepy-ass visitor.”
It was my turn, so I made a coffee run to the espresso stand nearby. When I got back with caffeine and pastries all around, Hank was leaning over the bank of monitors he oversaw, staring intently at the screen.
“Something going down?” I asked, setting the tray of drinks and food on the table.
“Yeah, there’s been another Bigfoot sighting. This one looks legit and they got pictures.” He sounded as excited as a kid locked in a candy shop. “It was in the Poconos, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers.”
“We are not flying across the country. The team at Spellworks can take care of it. They’re part of Urban Legends, Inc., so they’ll share their information.” Tad motioned for Hank to get back to the table. “The report will still be there when we’re done.”
“Why are you so fired up about Bigfoot?” I asked. “You’ve been obsessed with it ever since I came to work here last year.”
“I ran across one when I was young and he damned near took my head off. Ever since then, I’ve been driven to find out more about him and his kin,” Hank said, settling back down at the table. He picked up the cup with his name on it, and a slice of banana bread.
“So, let’s analyze January’s case,” Tad said. “We have poltergeist activity, haunting activity, telekinetic activity—a host of issues. I say we go in with cameras set up in every room and see what we can find.”
“Do you think the ghost might calm down now that the skeleton’s been found?” I asked, feeling more like I was reaching for straws rather than hopeful.
“That’s always a possibility, but I wouldn’t bank on it,” Caitlin said.
“Well, I’m thinking this will be good practice for us,” Tad said, stretching. “Since the only other actual case we’re working on right now is Danielle van Ness’s case, we have the time. I called Millie while you were gone, January, and she’s going to set up a stakeout and see what they find. I called Danielle and told her. She didn’t sound that happy, but perked up when I told her about the stakeout. So, let’s get the gear ready and head over to your house to set up?”
I felt oddly reluctant to go home, but this might help and so I agreed.
Hank and Caitlin readied the cameras while Tad prepared the surveillance van we used. At least we could park in my driveway and bring the computers inside. We could always relocate to the van if things got too rough, but the temperature outside was chilly enough that I didn’t want to spend time sitting outside in a tin can.
When we were ready, we headed out. I drove my own car and Tad rode shotgun, while Hank and Caitlin rode in the van. On the way home, my phone rang. Using the hands-free system in my car, I answered. It was Rowan Firesong, my grandmother, the oldest and most powerful witch—as far as I knew—in town.
Chapter Seven
“Hey, Rowan,” I said. I never called her “Grandma”—it was too odd. Since I hadn’t grown up with her identifying as my grandmother, it was easier all around to use her first name. “I’m driving. Can I call you back when I get home? I really need to talk to you about something.”
“I’ll be here,” she said, her no-nonsense attitude infusing her words as she hung up. Some people thought she was rude, but the fact she didn’t hover made me feel like I could handle what was coming my way, even when I felt overwhelmed.
Tad glanced at me. “There’s something you’re not telling me about Rowan.”
“You think so, huh?” Not many people knew that Rowan and I were related. Hell, even I hadn’t known until a few months ago. The Aseer knew—she was the woman who assessed magical energies and abilities among those of us who were witchblood. Ari, my best friend, knew. And Teran knew, of course, given she was the one who had originally told me. Teran told me my mother had known as well, though my father hadn’t.