Sentinel Lost (Mind Sweeper Series Book 5) (11 page)

He raised one eyebrow at me, and I sighed. “Fine. I’m not good. But I’ll be okay. Honest. You better get back to the restaurant before Anna sends out reinforcements.” I hugged my bag of spumoni and biscotti. “Thanks for watching out for me. I’ll come see you if I need to talk.”

Tony left grudgingly, and I pulled the lid off the spumoni and set it on the counter. Then I shook my head. Who was I kidding? I picked up the lid and flipped it into the trash. There would be no leftovers.

Back in the living room, I plopped into my comfy chair. Even though I didn’t want to talk to anyone, there was one person who deserved to know Dalton’s whereabouts.

“Marie!”

I waited for a second but still got nothing. I scooped up a large spoonful and moaned as the icy goodness exploded in my mouth. Then I took another bite and closed my eyes in bliss.

“Should I leave you alone with your ice cream, Kyle? It looks like you two are having a moment.”

I opened my eyes. Marie stood across the room, watching me with a smirk.

“You’re not funny.”

She floated over in front of me. “I am funny. Isn’t this how our conversation started the other day?”

“Not exactly.” I set the ice cream container on the coffee table. “Dalton is back.”

Her grin faded. “What?”

“Joe is here, Marie.”

Her face paled. Which was pretty scary, since she was a ghost and melanin was no longer her friend. “I just checked on him a couple of days ago, and he was working a case in Chicago.”

My stomach dropped. “Did you talk to him?”

“Of course not. I watch over him. He doesn’t know I’m there.”

“Well, he’s working a case here now. With me.”

Marie reached her hand out and then dropped it, as if remembering she couldn’t touch me. “Oh, Kyle. Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better.”

“He doesn’t remember you?”

“No.”

“Do you think he will?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I have to try to avoid it.”

Marie frowned. “Maybe you should try to make him remember.”

“He almost went insane from the memories of his torture, Marie. I can’t risk it. He’s moved on with his life.”

Marie huffed. “If you consider working all the time and spending the rest of his time alone as moving on with your life.”

“What?” I sat up from my slouched position on the couch. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

Marie sighed and floated back and forth in front of me as if she was pacing. “When should I have done that Kyle? When you ran away to Nevada and wouldn’t talk to me? Or when you were lying to everyone about the Key possessing you? Or when you moved on and seemed to be happy?

“And now, finally, you’ve let people get close to you again. You’re starting to act human again. I couldn’t tell you about Joe. What could you have done, anyway?”

“I don’t know. This is such a mess, Marie. He’s cold now. He has no spark in his beautiful eyes. I took the spark from his eyes.”

“You saved him.”

I walked over and stared out the windows at the wet street below. “You know everyone keeps telling me that, but if he’s unable to live his life, then what’s the point of saving him?”

“My grandson may be a little lost right now, but he won’t be defeated by this. He’ll bounce back. Just like you did.”

I laughed harshly. “God help him if you’re using me as a gauge for bouncing back.”

Chapter 13

Morning already, and I needed coffee with a capital “C.” I poured some java into a traveler’s mug and flinched when my cell rang.

“Hey, Mish, what’s up?”

“Cynthia Hamilton called. She wants us to come to the museum.”

“How far away are you?”

“About ten minutes.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you there.” I pulled on my coat and stuffed my phone and wallet into the pockets before grabbing my aluminum mug and loping down the stairs.

Even though it was damp, the smell of fresh baked goods filled the air. I loved living in Little Italy for many reasons, but the food was definitely at the top of the list.

I made a quick detour into the bakery and ordered a dozen fry cakes for Misha. Then I climbed into my car and drove to the art museum. Even with the bakery run, I still beat Misha.

The museum hadn’t reopened yet, but there was a great deal of activity all along the route one of the security guards used to escort me to Cynthia’s office. Today, she seemed much more put together than the last time I saw her. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, and she had on a steel gray business suit.

She nodded to one of the guest chairs. “Where’s your teammate?”

I sat down. “He should be here any minute. There’s a lot going on in here today.”

“We’re set to reopen tomorrow, and we need to make sure everything is ready to go.”

Cynthia looked past my shoulder just as the swish of the office door alerted me that someone else had come in.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Misha said.

“And who’s this?” Cynthia asked.

I turned in my seat at the question and stifled the urge to grumble.

“I’m Special Agent Dalton with the FBI.”

“Captain Morrison told me an agent had been assigned to the case,” Cynthia responded.

Dalton nodded. “I apologize for the delay in contacting you. I’ve been working the case for two days and had planned to come and speak with you today, so when Misha got your call, I decided to tag along.”

“No problem. Take a seat, gentlemen.”

Misha pulled over one of the chairs from the large conference table across from Cynthia’s desk. Dalton sat next to me in the other guest chair.

“I assume you must have found something, or you wouldn’t have called us in today,” I blurted, my curiosity getting the better of me.

Cynthia grinned at my enthusiasm. “I followed your hunch, Ms. McKinley, and we examined the items we’d not yet unpacked for the special exhibit. I almost didn’t catch the missing items, since we’d decided not to use these particular pieces in the exhibit after all.”

“What are they?” Dalton asked.

“We believe they’re religious artifacts. But we couldn’t authenticate them as being Mayan, so they weren’t going to be used.”

“Can you describe them?” I asked.

“I can do better than that.” She opened a folder. “When we receive artifacts on loan, we photograph them for insurance purposes. We’re missing two pieces.”

Cynthia pulled a photo out and placed it on the desk for us to examine. I leaned forward to study it. It was a stone tablet that appeared to be quite ancient. There was some sort of print on it, but the wording was too obscured to read what it said. As I stared at it, the base of my brain buzzed as if waking up from a deep sleep. I resisted the urge to rub the back of my neck.

Dalton leaned forward as well. “Do you know what it says?”

“No. It’s in a dialect we haven’t been able to translate. It was found in a Mayan ruin, but it’s unlike any Mayan artifact excavated in the past.”

The buzzing grew louder, like a swarm of bees in my brain, and I glanced over to see if anyone else could hear it. Misha’s eyebrow rose at my look, but I shook my head slightly to stop his questions.

Misha picked up the photo. “Why would someone want to steal this?”

Cynthia shrugged. “I’m baffled. With all of the priceless pieces that could have been stolen, I’m amazed they chose this tablet.”

“What about the other item?” Dalton asked.

Cynthia pulled out a second photo from the folder, and I flinched before I could stop myself.
Holy shit.

I exchanged a startled glance with Misha.

“What is it?” Dalton asked Cynthia while Misha and I sat there mute.

“We believe it was used to ward off evil. A talisman. We haven’t been able to interpret the symbols on the box yet. But neither of these pieces are worth breaking into the museum for.”

I bit my lip to keep from exclaiming how wrong she was. There was every reason to take this piece. Even though my brain insisted it was impossible for the museum to have it. Because it looked exactly like the box Jean Luc kept locked in our office safe. The box that had held the Key of Knowledge.

* * *

Several minutes later, I mumbled goodbye to Cynthia and rushed out of the museum, not waiting for Misha and Dalton to finish their conversation. I stumbled toward the parking lot, but when I looked at my shaking hands, I knew I wouldn’t be able to drive for a while. Instead, I went to the other side of the museum to look out over the lagoon. A body of water I was becoming way too familiar with.

What the hell was I going to do? How could there be another box? And what was I going to tell Dalton? All the things I was trying to protect him from kept raising their ugly heads and threatening to attack.

“What was that?”

I spun. Dalton frowned at me from the sidewalk. Had he smiled even once since he’d been back? I stared stupidly at him.

“I saw the way you reacted to the box. Have you seen it before?”

Misha walked up and stood beside me, as if to lend support.

I closed my eyes for a moment. How much of the truth could I afford to tell him?

“Well?” he pushed.

“We’ll meet you back at the office,” Misha growled.

Dalton opened his mouth, and Misha got right up into his face. “This is not the place to talk about it.” He pulled out the keys to the van and held them up.

Dalton glared at Misha, grabbed the keys, and then took a step back. “Fine. I’ll meet you at the office. Collect yourself, McKinley, and then I want to hear the truth.” He strode away.

Misha pulled me into his embrace. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. But the sucker-punches just keep on coming. What the hell?”

“I know, little one. What are we going to tell him?”

I leaned away from him and looked up into his eyes. “As much of the truth as we can. We tell him about the Key, and the fight for it, but we sure as hell don’t tell him it’s possessed him or me.”

“Do you think it’s safe to tell him even that much?”

“He didn’t react to the picture, Mish. No recognition at all. If he was going to remember, don’t you think the Key receptacle would have forced the memories to surface? I have no idea what we can risk at this point, but if this is about the Key, then all hell’s going to break loose. We tell him what we can to appease him, and then we pray that we get a call from Eli very soon so we can locate this demon. Then we send Dalton back to Chicago where he’ll be safe.”

And then, maybe I’d be safe.

Chapter 14

I gazed absently at Dolly as I followed Misha into the reception area.

On the ride back, Misha called Jean Luc and Talia and filled them in. I’d never heard Jean Luc swear profusely in French before. It sounded much prettier than those same words in English, which had been going off like fireworks in my mind ever since Cynthia Hamilton pulled out the second photo.

Misha was so upset he didn’t eat any of the pastries. Dolly’s and my eyes widened simultaneously at each other when he placed the unopened box on the reception desk.

“I’ll be out for some later.”

At least it sounded like Misha planned to recover from his anxiety fairly soon. I couldn’t say the same about me. I reached for the doorknob to the office and hesitated. I prayed that what we were about to tell Dalton wouldn’t trigger his memory. But I had to tell him something. Misha patted my back and then reached around me to open the door.

Inside an antsy FBI agent and two grim vampires waited for us. I walked into the kitchenette, poured a cup of coffee, and went over to sit at the table.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Dalton demanded.

I wrapped my fingers around the mug, the warmth grounding me. “Yes. But you have to sit down and stop pacing.”

His eyebrows hiked up. Maybe he was surprised that I wasn’t going to fight him, or maybe he didn’t like someone telling him what to do. Either way, I couldn’t handle his agitation. He sat down across from me. And I looked into his turquoise eyes.

“The reason I was so shocked today when I saw the picture of the box is because we’ve seen it before.”

“Where?”

“It turned up during a case last year, and the museum director is right. It’s a talisman to ward off evil.”

“And you think it’s the same box?”

“No. It can’t be.” I nodded to Jean Luc, and he walked over to the wall safe and opened it, pulling out the box.

Dalton’s eyes sharpened on the box for a few moments, and then his gaze honed in on me.

“
This
is the box from last year’s case,” I said.

“What does it do?” he asked.

Now things were going to get tricky. How much did I tell him? “It protects some sort of artifact that supes have been fighting over. Whoever controls it supposedly tips power in their favor.”

“What type of power?”