The Old Witcheroo (24 page)

I smiled wearily at him and patted his arm. “Good to hear. G’night, Sandwich.”

As Luis led me out into the precinct again, I paused at the ladies’ room. “Can I just grab a quick second to use the facilities?”

“Of course,” he said on a courteous nod.

Pushing my way into the bathroom’s cool interior, with all its crisp white, I tried to ignore the mirror, but if I wanted to run a cool paper towel over my face, so there was no avoiding the inevitable.

I’d stuck my hand under the motion sensor for the paper towels and turned the water on when I heard, “Stevie?”

Freezing, I cocked my ear.

“Stevie. Look up,” the soft voice demanded in a gentle tone.

My eyes shot upward to the mirror and flew open wide, but only for a moment, until I realized
who
was calling my name.

“Sophia,” I whispered with a smile, my heart so glad to see she was well.

As beautiful in death as she was in life, Sophia floated behind me, her dark hair billowing outward against the white bathroom stall, her heart-shaped face soft and welcoming.

“Are you okay? Where have you been?”

“It’s hard to come here to this plane. To make myself visible. I can’t explain it, but each time I try, it gets harder still.”

Sophia didn’t have to explain that at all. I understood perfectly. I know people wonder if mediums can talk to ghosts, why can’t we just call for them when we need them to answer our questions. I know if Sandwich and the others believed I could talk to ghosts, they’d want to know why I didn’t just ask Sophia who’d killed her myself. But it’s not always that simple.

Some ghosts like Win and Arkady have no trouble popping in and out when summoned. Some struggle because of the pull of the light, and it’s a very personal, individualized journey.

One I’d never interfered with before, and I had no intention of doing so now. But it hadn’t occurred to me to call on Sophia simply because I didn’t think I still could, and without any sightings of her from Win, I figured she’d crossed and that was that.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” I managed to breathe, half of me excited I could actually see Sophia, the other half deeply sad she was gone.

Sophia smiled and shook her head, her soft eyes glistening. “You’ve already done so much…”

Teardrops slipped from my eyes as I remembered the one last piece of the puzzle I didn’t have an answer for, even though in my gut, I was fairly sure I knew what she’d say. “I’m sorry…for everything you went through, Sophia. I saw the postcard and what you said about Dana. That was who you meant by ‘the one’, wasn’t it?”

Though transparent, Sophia’s cheeks still flushed prettily. “Yes. It was meant to go to my mother and sister. So they’d know I was all right. So my mother would know I was alive and happy and starting a new life. We always said ‘love you to the moon and back’ before bed each night when I was little.”

I swallowed hard, my heart aching with all the unnecessary loss. That ugly anger I fought every time I thought about how Ward Montgomery had robbed the world of such a beautiful soul returned full force. “I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry
this happened, Sophia
…
that he did this.”

But she just smiled, and that smile held a hint of knowledge. “He’ll be sorry, too…”

I smiled back and nodded through the threat of more tears. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”

“You know,” Sophia whispered, soft and floating. “Maybe there is one thing you can do.”

I stared at her beautiful face, and saw the question in her eyes. “Whatever you need.”

“Tell Dana something for me, will you please?”

Tears stung my eyes again as I gripped the edge of the sink. “Of course.
Anything
,” I murmured hoarsely.

“Tell him even in the afterlife, I won’t tell a soul about Air Supply.”

I must have looked confused because Sophia’s sweet giggle echoed around the room. “He’ll know what I mean. Oh, and tell him something else, too? Tell him,
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
. I have to go now, but thank you, Stevie—
thank you
,” she called out, before she disappeared in a tiny speck of light and was gone.

But then, for the briefest of moments, Win’s face was there in the mirror right next to mine, smiling in that dashingly handsome way he had. “Browning’s ‘How Do I Love Thee?’” he said, his voice low and husky.

I smiled, my heart chugging in my chest. A poem I now fully understood in more ways than one. Lovely indeed.

Swiping the tears from my eyes, I pressed the cold compress to my poor bruised and beaten face, straightened my shoulders and asked, “You ready to go home, International Man of Mystery?”

“Always, Dove.”

I turned the water off, dried my hands and left the bathroom, scanning the chaotic mess of the precinct as not only the officers on duty, but some off-duty officers and paramedics milled about over broken glass and shot-up desks, tending to the crime scene.

Luis held out his arm to me and I hooked mine through his, but someone put a hand on my shoulder and gripped.

“Stevie?”

I whirled around to find Dana, still as big and strong as ever, but tired; his eyes looked so tired, with deep smudges of purple under them.

Still, I didn’t hesitate when I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him hard. “They’re letting you go! Sing ‘Free Bird’ with me, Officer Nelson!”

He actually hugged me back, and I don’t know who was more surprised, him or me. Setting me from him, he gave me a small smile. “I’m an exonerated man. You’re something else, Cartwright. You know that?”

I grinned and tried to wink. “Isn’t it funny how we’re meeting yet again after another mess I just couldn’t stay out of?”

He laughed, scraping his fingers over his stubbled jaw. “Oh, it’s hilarious, Miss Cartwright. I laugh about it all the time.”

I playfully punched him in the arm and asked, “You need a lift home?”

“Nah, I’m good. But before you go…” He paused, the column of his throat working when he swallowed with visible effort. “Thank you, Stevie. I don’t know what I would have done without—”

“You would have figured it out all on your own, that’s what you would have done. Now, no more talk of thanks. But there is just one more thing. Luis, can I just get a sec alone with Dana?”

“I’ll be right out here.” Luis pointed beyond the shattered glass door.

Hooking my arm through Dana’s, I pulled him to the side. “I have a message for you.”

“From?”

“Now, I know you’re gonna say this is crazy, but…” I stood on tiptoe and whispered the message Sophia have given me in his ear.

When I was done, he looked down at me, his bleary eyes full of wonder. “But I never told anyone that but her.
How
?” He whispered the word, his voice so hoarse and raw with his love for Sophia, I almost choked up.

I shrugged, my eyes brimming with tears. “Maybe—just
maybe
—I’m the real deal, Officer Nelson.”

He pressed his free hand to the one I’d hooked though his arm and squeezed. “Maybe you are after all, Miss Cartwright. Maybe indeed.”

Blinking away my tears, I chuckled as he led me out of the precinct. “Are we back to formalities again? Should I return to my favorite nickname for you?”

“Which one is that?”

“Oh, I dunno. Pick the one you like the best. I have many. Officer Stick-In-The-Mud. Or how’s Officer Stick-Up-His-Butt…”

Dana threw his head back and laughed out loud—and I laughed with him, which was how I knew he was on the road to healing.

With time, he’d be better.

And with a little help from his friends.

Friends like me.

* * * *

Later the Following Week

I stared at my cell phone, totally aghast.

“Dove? What’s wrong?”

Holding up the phone, I babbled, “I…uh, the…it’s been…” I couldn’t get the words out.

“Indulge me with a noun, Dove.”

“Boss?” Bel asked, buzzing about my head. “We gotta bust a move if we’re gonna get to Seattle in time and beat the morning rush.”

“My lovely Morning Dewdrop? You must listen to fuzzy white ball of fluff. He speaks the truth. Why do you dawdle so? Car ride is long. This I do not like,” Arkady groused his displeasure.

Sitting back down at the kitchen table, I shook my head in sheer wonder. “The meeting with Fakebottom’s lawyers is canceled. That was Luis calling.”

“Canceled?” my two ghosts shrieked in my ear.

“Yep. Canceled. No one’s seen or heard from Fakebottom since last week, when he was in the store. I know he was all right because Sandwich told me as much when I asked about the vagrant I’d found in the alleyway. He said the guy apologized, accepted the warning Sandwich gave him and left.”

“Bah! He is coward! He is small, little weakling, too afraid to put up his dukes and fight like man,” Arkady accused. “He knows my
malutka
is stronger!”

I chuckled, but I had to hold on to the table to keep from falling down. I was weak with not only gratitude, but astonishment. “I can’t believe this. What do you suppose brought this on? I mean, he had DNA proof, Win. Do you think it was the fingerprint thing? Do you think Davis finally got ahold of MI6 and was able to prove he was full of garbage?”

“Did Luis say as much?” Win asked.

“No. He had no explanation at all. He just said Fakebottom’s lawyers had called it off because they couldn’t reach their client and everything was on hold until further notice.”

“And where do you suppose my Aston Martin is in all this?” Win queried in that tight British way he had when he was perturbed.

I shrugged and grinned. “Chop shop?”

“Yahooooo!” Bel chirped. “This calls for pomegranates and waffles with a big, fat sausage. We have to celebrate!” He swooped down to land on an almost fully mended Whiskey’s neck. “Hear that, buddy? We get to stay in Mayhem Manor!”

Whiskey harrumphed his pleasure by nudging my calves with his nose. I rubbed the top of his head as I absorbed this newest information. “Something scared him off, that’s for sure.”

“I wanted to, how you say, scare his socks off? But Arkady Bagrov cannot do this just yet. I learn though, and someday, we will make weak fake Zero pay!”

I waggled a finger as I rose to get more coffee and luxuriate in the first moment of peace I’d had since the beginning of the Officer Nelson thing. “Now, now. No paying. He’s gone for the time being. Maybe we should just enjoy that?”

“I’m with Arkady on this one, Dove. This isn’t over. I’m just not sure what’s left for him to do.”

Closing my eyes, I sipped at my coffee, relishing an easy breath or two as I looked out over the Puget from my kitchen nook’s windows, pondering the mess we’d just drawn to a close, and I don’t just mean the Fakebottom business.

I mean the Ward Montgomery mess, too. Further investigation of Detective Montgomery’s home hadn’t turned up Sophia’s cell phone, but it had turned up three things. A definite match to Sophia’s lipstick on his shirt collar, the gun he’d used to shoot at me and had caught Whiskey instead, and over half a million dollars in various accounts alleged payouts for hits for the mob.

I sighed, letting all of it go. I’d even let go of the idea that my powers might be returning. There were clear signs, stronger each time as was the case with my being able to hear Arkady and see Sophia, but I wasn’t going to linger or expend energy hoping for some kind of miracle. It was time to move on with what I was blessed with at this very moment. The heat had finally passed and we were all enjoying the change in weather of cooler temps in the mid-seventies.

“Your thoughts on where else my imposter might take this ridiculous claim, Stevie?” Win prodded.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if this isn’t over with Fakebottom. I’m ready and willing to fight for what’s ours, if need be, but I’m not going to tell you I’m unhappy with this turn of events. It’s been a long couple of weeks.”

“Indeed it has. And in the vein of long weeks, how’s our Officer Nelson faring?”

My heart still tugged when I heard his name, because I knew he still ached for Sophia. “He’s okay. I saw him at the diner yesterday when I was grabbing some takeout for lunch and he looks healthy, if not still quite sad. He’s been in contact with Sophia’s sister Audrianna, though. He told me that she told him how she thought Sophia had come up with her Eb Falls name.”

“How’s that?”

I smiled when I remembered Dana explaining it to me. “Sophia was in honor of Sophia Loren. Her grandmother was a big fan. And Fleming comes from Ian Fleming, the author of the James Bond novels. She loved spy novels, if you’ll recall.”

“Hah! She is smart girl,” Arkady praised.

“I’m happy to hear he’s on the mend. He’s young yet. There’s plenty of time for him to move forward and find another chippie to romance.”

I nodded to the tune of Win’s words. But speaking of romance, neither Win nor I had brought up the kiss. At this point, I’d decided not to root around in it too much, but I secretly still thought about it every night before I went to sleep.

And we hadn’t had an awkward moment since he’d reappeared after possessing Fakebottom’s body.

Arkady had been right. Win was my friend—always—and I guessed he wanted that part of our relationship to remain intact as much as I did. So we set what had happened aside and moved forward.

As for Arkady, I liked that he’d sort of slipped into our little family. He didn’t stick around the way Win did, but he was never far if I called on him. He was like a favorite uncle who popped in and out of your life on a semi-regular basis—well, sort of. I suppose most uncles can’t kill you from a hundred paces with nothing but a glare, but you take what you can get. Either way, I liked him a lot.

I also couldn’t find a single thing online about him, because yes, I’d Googled him to within an inch of his life. He’d been as much a ghost in his life as he was in the afterlife. But someday, I was going to press him for his full spy story, too. Someday soon.

Until then, I was going to be grateful he’d found us, and just enjoy how well looked out for I was from all the way up there. In fact, I was going to enjoy everything as much as possible. Wring every last ounce of joy out of life and try to focus on the prize rather than when or if my powers would reappear permanently instead of sporadically, or whether I’d ever see the physical Win again.