The Hex Files_Wicked Long Nights Page 12

  “Her private doctor is our best bet,” Willa said. “We’ll get right in, and if things are bad enough, he’ll send us off for more attention. I’m telling you, this isn’t my first rodeo. It sucks my mother’s in pain, but neither of us are new to this.”

  “Sounds good.” I smiled. “I’ll give you whatever you need.”

  “Then how about you grab those broomsticks?” Willa thumbed behind her. “I’ll ride with my mum, and you can follow along beside us and make sure she doesn’t fall off.”

  “Willa—”

  “I’m joking, I’m bloody joking,” she said with a grin. “Come on now, hop on. There you are, mother.”

  Once we were on the brooms, Willa tossed me her keys, and I locked the front door. Together we set off, cruising at a steady pace as we bypassed the foot traffic below.

  “What’s...” I cleared my throat. “What is, uh—”

  “What’s wrong with her?” Willa nodded toward her mother. “You don’t have to tip toe around things, Dani. I told you—we both are used to it. She’s been ill since I was a child. The thing is—doctors can’t quite figure out what’s going on with her body. She gets these wild bouts of pain, and nobody can tell where it’s coming from or why.”

  “I’m sorry. That’s horrible—for her and for you. I’m sorry you have to watch her go through it.”

  Willa shrugged. “It normally isn’t this bad. She took a spin for the worse a few months back and has become almost catatonic since.”

  I stared straight ahead as Willa gave a sniff. I wanted to zoom closer and give her a good hard squeeze, but Willa didn’t seem to be in the mood for a tender moment. She was in business mode and wanted to get her mother help—which I understood. The tears would come later.

  “Thankfully, we’ve found this new doctor recently who’s really good with pain management,” Willa said. “It’s the only thing that’s been helping my mother since she began deteriorating faster. For a while there, we thought things were getting better, then out of the blue...bam. She aged about twenty years in six weeks. We’ve taken her to every specialist in the borough and nothing seems to be working except...” She paused for a hiccup. “Pain management.”

  I knew that code. The doctors were stumped and doing everything possible to make Willa’s mother comfortable until she miraculously healed, or...didn’t.

  I wanted to tell Willa that I was sorry for her, for her mom, for the whole situation. She was the last person on earth who deserved to see her mother suffering and slowly withering away before her very eyes. If anything, it made Willa’s sunny smiles and wildly carefree disposition all the more impressive. But I couldn’t say any of that as we cruised above the streets, dodging the few other broomstick riders who dared take to the skies of Wicked.

  “Here we are,” Willa said, bringing up her broomstick to a smooth landing at an old, deep purple Victorian house that’d been gutted and renovated to form a quaint little doctor’s office. “Here we are, mum. Can you walk? Grab my hand.”

  I frowned at the house as we parked our broomsticks in the rack and wound our way up the front path. The yard was perfectly neat with beautiful blooms lining the walkway. The sidewalk was clean enough to eat off, and as we stepped through the front doors, the interior was just as neat.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?” I asked Willa. “This place seems more... mom and pop to me.”

  “The doc here is really great with my mum,” Willa said. “Let’s just see what he has to say. There you go, mum, take a seat. I’m going to go sign in with Lisa.”

  I waited with Willa’s mother, sitting next to the frail woman as her daughter went off to handle the paperwork. “Mrs. Bloomer—”

  “Ms. Bloomer,” Willa’s mother corrected with a thin smile. Her cheeks were hollow, her skin sagging, but the slightest glint of life reflected in her eyes. “My no-good husband disappeared when my baby was four.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I know it’s probably not the place or the time to be telling you this, but you have a really amazing daughter. Willa helped me solve my last homicide case.”

  “Did she, now?” Pride shone in weak beams from Ms. Bloomer’s eyes. “Yes, that sounds a lot like my Willa. She’s my little dandelion, that one. Bright and pretty and impossible to keep down.”

  I laughed. “I suppose that’s a good way to look at things.”

  “She raves about you,” Ms. Bloomer said, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. “Really loves you.”

  “I know, and I love her too,” I said. “She’s the best friend I could ask for, and she fits right in. The pizzeria is a family run business, and Willa is quickly becoming the backbone of it.”

  “When I’m...” Ms. Bloomer paused, cleared her throat. “I’m glad to hear that.”

  “Ms. Bloomer, you have nothing to worry about.”

  “When I’m gone,” she continued, “I’m glad she’ll have somewhere to go. Take care of her, will you? Until she finds someone else to love her and marry her?”

  “Of course,” I promised, feeling the prick of tears in my eyes. “But I think that’s preemptive. We’re here to get you help; you’re going to be okay.”

  “Do I look okay?” Ms. Bloomer blinked, a tear cascading down her papery thin cheek. “Please say no. If this is me looking good, well, then that’s just sad. I look horrible.”

  “You look horrible,” I confirmed. “Is that better?”

  “I was pretty once, actually. My complexion was like Willa’s, all elastic and flushed and pretty. And now...” She held up a hand to her arm and ran fingers over nearly translucent skin. “Not that looks matter all that much, but I do bloody hate getting old.”

  I laughed again. “Age is just a number, Ms. Bloomer.”

  “Call me Kady,” she said. “Kady is a younger girl’s name. This Ms. Bloomer business is just too formal.”

  “Okay, Kady,” I said. “Well, you hang in there. We’re going to get you some help from the doctor. If you’d prefer, we can take you straight to the hospital and—”

  “I’m dying, Detective,” Kady said, turning to face me. “I’m shrinking away before my daughter’s eyes. I am not trying to get better any longer.”

  “But, Kady—”

  “Detective, listen,” Ms. Bloomer said, resting her hands over mine. “Willa’s been through enough. I am a huge burden on her. I decided a few months ago that this fight just isn’t worth it any longer—for her sake. I am letting go. Dr. Johnston is prescribing me medication to help dull the pain to make things easier on Willa. And on me, I suppose. That’s all this is—pain management, dear. We know what that means.”

  “Ms. Bloomer—” I stopped, feeling my heart break for this stranger. She might be Willa’s mother, and I might love Willa, but this was the first time I’d met Kady. She had a lot of fight and a lot of love left in her, and in this case her love for her daughter had beat out her desire to fight. She hadn’t lost, but the rules of the game had changed. Her decision was made, and it didn’t seem like there was any changing her mind.

  “Have you told Willa this?” I asked gently. “She doesn’t seem to understand what’s happening.”

  “She understands on a subconscious level,” Kady said, “and that’s how things will have to be. If I tell her, she’ll try to convince me otherwise. But that’s only because she’s a wonderful daughter and feels the primal sense of duty to care for her mother. It’s time for me to stop holding her back.”

  I had to stand and walk away. My eyes swam with tears—Dani DeMarco, badass Reserve, sobbing in a doctor’s office for a stranger. I couldn’t bear to let anyone see, especially since I hadn’t quite figured out what was happening to me. I dealt with death on a daily basis—gruesome, unexpected deaths—but apparently, dealing with the living was even worse. The living still had a chance. For the dead, their only hope was justice.

  I swallowed a lump in my throat, turning past the front desk and muttering something about using the rest
room. Willa gave me a confused look, but the receptionist merely pointed me toward the back hallway.

  I strode off quickly, turning a corner only to run smack dab into a wall. Or rather, a chest. A male chest with a most-familiar scent, though my eyes had been too blurred through tears to notice the vampire before me.

  “Matthew,” I said in a hoarse voice. “What are you doing here?”

  “What are you doing here?” he asked. “I thought we agreed to meet after I finished my interviews.”

  “Yeah, but I’m just here because of Willa. Her mom has an appointment with doctor...” I hesitated, my face flicking up to meet Matthew’s gaze. “Oh, my God. Dr. Johnston.”

  Matthew’s eyebrows furrowed. “Dani, we need to talk.”

  “But—”

  “Now,” he said, his eyes flashing with determination. “Three bodies have disappeared from the morgue. The only link between them all is this place.”

  I swallowed in horror. “Let me guess—the missing bodies were all patients of Dr. Johnston?”

  Matthew took my hand, pulled me outside. “I need you to let Willa go on with the appointment. We need to pretend all is business as usual, but no matter what, do not let her mother take any pain meds prescribed by Dr. Johnston.”

  “I can’t let Ms. Bloomer go in there!”

  “You need to,” Matthew said firmly. “We need a sample of her medication. I have Felix on standby. Let’s move—we don’t have time to waste.”

  Chapter 11

  As it turned out, Matthew and Dani had plenty of time to kill. After Dani ran into Matthew’s chest, he held her to him in a moment of weakness, savoring their closeness as he searched her face with curiosity.

  Her eyes were shiny with tears, which stumped Matthew. He’d known Dani for years now—through the ups and downs of her tenure with the NYPD, before, during, and after their relationship. During the worst of times, the most gruesome of deaths, Dani found it hard to shed a tear. Like most cops, she’d found a way to compartmentalize her emotions and deal with them in some other way. Seeing tears in Danielle’s eyes meant that something very, very bad had happened.

  “Come on, then,” Dani said, pulling him back down the hallway and into the waiting room. “Willa was just checking in at the front desk, and her mother...” She trailed off at the sight of an empty waiting room save for the receptionist.

  The receptionist saw Dani and brightened. “You’re here with Willa, right? She just went back to see Dr. Johnston with her mother. Willa wanted me to thank you and let you know you’re free to go if you’d prefer. But if you’d rather wait, you may have a seat.”

  “We’ll wait,” Dani told her with a tense smile. “Can you let her know we’ll be out front? I need some fresh air.”

  Matthew followed Dani outside, noting one sign after the next that the detective was seriously upset. Which was something that concerned Matthew because he knew Dani’s emotions rarely got the best of her on the job. He also knew better than to push her into talking.

  “I think we should go back into the office,” Dani said, stopping her jerky walk in a complete halt. “I think we should go get Willa and her mother out of there. It’s not worth the risk.”

  “The doctor is not doing anything to them in the office,” Matthew told her. “However, I do suspect the drugs he’s giving his patients are problematic.”

  Dani frowned. “Do you think he’s killing them with medicine?”

  Matthew hesitated. As a general rule, he never assumed anything. Until there was evidence that went beyond reasonable doubt, he hated to cast blame of any sort. “It’s hard to say without—”

  “Enough, Matthew!” Dani exploded at him. “That is my friend in there with her mother. Her dying mother. They are the nicest people in this city, and she does not deserve to get murdered by a doctor looking for a payoff from some pharmaceutical spell company!”

  “Dani—”

  “Detective!” she roared, snarling at him as she spun away. “This is not personal.”

  “It is,” he said calmly. “What’s going on here?”

  “It’s just...I don’t—” She heaved a few breaths, then fell against Matthew’s chest and began to sob.

  For once, the vampire was at a loss. He raised his hands, circled them firmly around her, and let her cry. He’d rarely seen Dani so broken down, so sad. He’d been there for her when Trenton had died, but that had been different. There was sadness and anger and confusion—a lot of confusion and doubt.

  This was something different. A sort of shattering of the soul that dug into Matthew with an ache that surprised him. As a man without a beating heart and the inability to shed tears, he sometimes wondered if, as some claimed, he lived a soulless existence. It was moments like this that he knew they were wrong.

  “Danielle,” he whispered against her forehead, stroking her hair as her face left wet streaks down his shirt. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

  He wore a white button-down shirt with dress slacks. Matthew wore only the finest materials because anything less made him itchy and uncomfortable. After all, he’d been earning a salary for centuries. He needed to splurge on something.

  Dani ran a thumb over the blotchiness on his shirt, the points where white had turned almost transparent from her tears. “I’m sorry. I know this must be expensive.”

  “Expensive?”

  “Your shirt,” she choked, “and I’ve ruined it.”

  “Fuck the shirt,” he said softly, and that earned him a smile. “You can use them as tissues if you’d like. Come, talk to me.”

  Matthew wound through the small gardens outside of the ancient Victorian structure, finding a neat little bench perched above a small goldfish pond. The water was magicked to change colors every few seconds, and a special brand of jumping fish twirled and looped through the air as a decorative accent.

  He sat first, and then pulled Dani next to him. He wanted to ease her onto his lap and let her bury her face against his chest, but he sensed that moment had passed. Her tears slowed, and she regained some composure.

  For some reason, Matthew was disappointed. Though relieved her sobs were receding, in a twisted way, he liked when she depended on him. When she broke down her walls and clung to him as if he were the only life raft in a stormy sea. He pushed the thoughts away, angry at himself for relishing even a moment of her frustration and focused his attentions on the detective.

  “I’m sorry,” she said with a final sniff. “I don’t know where that came from.”

  “I do.”

  “Is that right?” She offered him a dry smile. “Enlighten me.”

  Matthew tried for a smile, but it came out pained. “Someone you love is hurting. It’s never easy watching a parent pass away—yours, or a friend’s.”

  “Matthew, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking to you about this.”

  “It was a long, long time ago when I lost my family,” he said. “The emotions are dulled, but I’ll never forget the day, or the moment, it happened for me. It didn’t feel like the world had ended, per say, but that something was missing. The globe shifted a bit off its axis the day my mother died.”

  “I can’t imagine.”

  Matthew pushed a strand of hair behind Dani’s ear. “That’s a good thing.”

  “But I’m working! I should be able to control my emotions on the job, and—”

  “You weren’t working,” Matthew interrupted. “I was here on the job. You were here as a favor to your friend.”

  “Sometimes the job intersects with life. Sometimes the job is my life, you know that as well as I do—we all do.”

  “Yes, but...it’s different,” Matthew said. “This was different. It caught you by surprise.”

  “I just don’t know what to do,” she murmured. “For anything these days. I feel so lost.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Why are you apologizing?”

  “It’s not fair for us to pull you out of retirement,” Matthew said, guilt gnawing at
his gut. “We shouldn’t have asked you to consult. I warred with myself over the choice, and I made the wrong one.”

  “I insisted on wedging my way into precinct business.”

  “Regardless, you’re here, and you’re upset. Talk to me, Danielle. What is bothering you?”

  “Everything!” She stood, listlessly shaking her arms by her side, easing out the nervous energy. “I don’t know who to trust. What to do. Sienna is lying about Residuals. We have necromancy reports from two different sources. A murder-suicide that might not be a murder-suicide.”

  She paused, took a breath. Matthew sat back on the seat and waited, listening to her racing heart, inhaling the sweet scent that was uniquely Dani.

  “One necromancy source is connected to the Bellevue family through their lawyer,” she said. “And the lawyer is dealing with the murder-suicide—a case high profile enough to make the precinct not risk rocking the boat with a deeper investigation. That’s not to mention the weird-ass farmer Lucia investigated or the missing bodies from Sienna’s morgue...which brings me full circle back to Sienna’s lies. What is happening here, Matthew?”

  “Take a breath.”

  “Captain—”

  “Detective,” he leaned on the word. “Breathe. You’ve had a full day. There’s a lot happening, and your brain is swirling. This business with Willa and her mother is only adding to the stress.”

  “I don’t have time to waste. Bodies are disappearing, and Lucia’s still gone. The clock is ticking.”

  “Let Willa’s mother get her medicine from the doc,” Matthew said. “Then you’re going to take Willa and her mother home and quietly explain why the medicine can’t be taken yet. I’ll let Nurse Anita know she’ll have a patient this afternoon. We’ll keep things discreet while getting Willa’s mother on appropriate, safe pain medication. Then, I’ll bring the suspicious prescription to Felix for a work up. I’ll meet you at your apartment tonight. You need to sleep.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come over, Matthew.”