Shadows Fall (26 page)

“What do you mean, missing? She was supposed to be at the shop with you.”

“Yeah, no, she never showed up. I called Andrea, and she said Chelse never came home after her last shift. That was closing, day before yesterday.”

“Who’s Andrea?” Charlie asked.

“Chelsea’s roommate. And it’s not uncommon for her to take off,” Titus said. “Especially since she’s still hooking up with that deadbeat Jay.”

“That’s the asshole I threw out of the shop the day we met?” Charlie glanced over at Sonny, wondering if he thought there was anything unusual about Charlie remembering the day he and Titus met. He was looking back and forth between Titus and Riot, but didn’t seem overly suspicious.

“That’s the one. He’s a grade ‘A’ scumbag. You look him up in your little police computer thingy, I’m sure you’ll find all kinds of reading material,” Riot said, popping a chuck of nicotine gum in his mouth. “T, something’s odd about this one, though. She always texts Andrea if she’s not coming home. Like clockwork. And I know she’s flaky, but she doesn’t just blow off work.”

Titus sighed, and glanced off into the corner of the room again. He rubbed his chest like he was feeling for something. “My chain. What did they do with my chain?” he asked frantically.

“It’s in that bag over on the chair with your watch, wallet, and shoes,” Charlie said.

Visibly relieved, Titus reached out toward the bag. “Hand it to me, please.”

Charlie did as he asked. Titus clutched the necklace in his hands but didn’t put it on. His eyes were unfocused when he spoke to Charlie again. “Hester. You need to get Hester. She can help.”

“
T!
Are you paying attention? We need to go talk to Andrea, see if we can find out anything about Chelsea.”

“Riot, if Chelsea’s not at the shop, and you’re not at the shop, who’s at the fucking shop?”

“Amanda.”

“Jesus fuck, man. Go back to the shop! We’ll deal with Chelsea later, she’s a big girl.”

“Yeah, besides, our man here’s got some questions to answer,” Sonny chimed in.

“Bossman—” Riot began.

“Hale, you need to ask—” Sonny said at the same time.

“Titus, I really don’t think I should leave you alone just yet—”

“Goddamnit!
Mandi shom ne mokken bi Hester! Tute gaje kekna shala mande! The mule is’i akai…
”

Charlie gaped at Titus while he continued to rail at them in what he could only assume was his gypsy language—
Romanes
, he’d called it earlier. He wasn’t sure what exactly had set the guy off, but he needed to calm down before he had another damn seizure. Charlie could start with clearing the riff-raff out of the room.

“Okay, everybody out. Get the hell out,” he said when Riot started to protest. Charlie turned him around by the shoulders and pushed him out of the cubicle. “You too, DeRossi. I’ll call you when I have the information we need.”

Sonny narrowed his eyes at Charlie but he didn’t protest. “I’ll be waiting,” he said with a pointed look.

“Shocker,” Charlie grumbled, going back through the curtain to Titus, who was still muttering to himself in words Charlie couldn’t understand. “Hey, Titus? Hey, look at me.”

Those clear blue eyes finally focused on him. “I’m going to go get Hester, okay? But you have to calm down first so I know you’re okay to be alone.”

Titus took a few deep breaths, seemed to reach within himself for some kind of inner stillness, and his body relaxed its tense posture. “I’m good. Sorry I lost it. It was just… too much. Too many people.”

“Not a problem, I understand.” Charlie brushed the hair off of Titus’s forehead and leaned down to press a kiss on the smooth, burnished skin. “I’ll go get her. The nurses are around if you need anything, and I have my cell. I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks, Charlie.”

Chapter Nineteen

The hospital had tested the strength of my sanity. Between the doctors and nurses, Riot and Detective DeRossi, and the five
mule
who now followed me everywhere I went, I’d been so inundated by
presences
that I just fucking lost it.

Charlie had made the drive from the hospital at the southeast corner of the city to my Fourth Ward home in the northeast corner in record time. Thankfully, Hester was in her trailer when he arrived. Neither of them had been willing to tell me what transpired between the two of them on the way over, but they seemed to have come to a grudging mutual understanding, however temporary.

Having Hester fuss over me in my hospital bed had been surreal. She did so in that brash, Romany way of hers, but I could tell she was concerned for me. It had been so long since I’d felt any sense of family, it confused and flustered me.

I’d wanted to pick her brain about what happened to me at the police station, but we were never alone together. Besides, I took comfort in just having someone in the room who understood that there were things around us that the others couldn’t perceive—that I wasn’t crazy.

The three of us were silent as Charlie drove us back to the townhouse. Hester stared out the rear passenger window of the charger, and I leaned my head against my window, dozing every so often. It seemed like only seconds had passed when I felt Charlie’s hand on my shoulder, gently shaking me awake.

He came around to my side of the car and opened the door for me, helping me to step out of the low-slung car, since I was still a little unsteady on my feet. I leaned against him, allowing him to take my weight as we made our way inside. Hester followed a few steps behind.

Once we were standing in my living room, Charlie turned me to face him. “Why don’t you go put on something comfy. You know we have to talk.”

My heart constricted, my lungs lost the ability to expand. The Talk. The ‘is Titus crazy or is he a murderer?’ talk. I’d been dreading it since I met Charlie, yet somehow I always knew I’d have to take that leap of faith and tell him.

I scurried into the bedroom, grateful for the brief reprieve. I rushed my way through a quick shower, just enough to get the stink of antiseptic and misery from the hospital off my skin. How I wanted to languish there, to wallow in the spray and scald myself clean—anything to avoid the fate that lay on the other side of the glass door.

When I’d finished washing—okay, procrastinating—I pulled on my most worn pair of sweats and my rattiest T-shirt, then wrapped myself in a fuzzy robe that I might have ‘borrowed’ from a hotel the year before. Staring into the mirror, I combed my wet hair back away from my face, not my usual look but I was feeling lazy. I measured my reflection, taking in my gaunt cheeks that made my cheekbones and jaw seem sharp and jutting. When had I lost weight? I was starting to look like a corpse.

That thought hit too close to home, so I looked away. It was time to face the music. I walked down the short hallway to the living room, dragging my feet like a thief to the gallows. Charlie had been sitting on the couch and stood when I came in. He shifted nervously, which didn’t do anything to ease my apprehension.

Hester came out of the kitchen carrying a steaming mug of coffee and a pack of crackers. “You need to eat, keep up your strength,” she said in her matter-of-fact manner.

“Thanks, Granny,” I said, accepting both from her. I set the snack on the coffee table and wrapped both hands around the cup, letting its warmth seep into my skin. I sank down on the couch with a heavy sigh.

Hester narrowed her eyes at Charlie. “You leave now, ask your questions later. The boy needs rest.”

Charlie shook his head, regret written all over his face. “I wish I could, Mrs. Faa, but I’ve been given only twenty-four hours to figure out how to keep Titus from becoming a suspect in a murder investigation.” He gave me a fond smile. “Besides, I wouldn’t leave anyway. I’m going to take care of him.”

I turned to Hester, who was still eyeing Charlie. “Granny, I appreciate you coming when I needed you. I have to talk to Charlie alone first, then I might need you to help me… explain some things later.”

My grandmother gave me a long, searching look and then a short nod. She immediately followed it up with a disgruntled shake of her head as she crossed the room to the front door. “That
gajo
will never understand our ways,
Titus le Harmanosko
.”

“Maybe not. But he might be able to understand me. It’s not like I have a choice anyway, and I’d rather it be him than Detective DeRossi.”

She waved at me over her shoulder and disappeared through the front door, presumably to retire to her trailer. I looked back at Charlie’s kind, patient face. No matter how unflappable he was, it was going to be a long night.

“I don’t know where to start.”

“How about at the beginning,” Charlie suggested, taking a seat on the couch beside me.

“Uh, well for this, the beginning would be birth,” I said with a mirthless laugh. How did I explain something that was as much a part of me as my hair color?

Charlie chuckled breathlessly.

He was so calm, so receptive that I got a panicky feeling thinking about the moment his face would close up, and he’d look at me like he didn’t know me anymore. “Look, you’re not going to believe me. You’re going to think I’m crazy and try to throw me in that fresh new nuthouse they built up the road. I won’t have it.”

“Huh? I—”

“I’m serious. I won’t let you lock me up—I’ll run and you’ll never find me. You know I can, it’s in my blood.”

“I know, T,” he said, using my nickname. “I know. That’s not going to happen. No matter what you say, I know you’re of sound mind, okay? I promise, no one’s locking you up.” He reached out and took my hand. “Please trust me.”

I took a deep breath, my pulse skittering, and reached inside to somehow pull out the right words. “I’m sometimes privy to information that others don’t have, from sources a little more… paranormal in nature.”

“Para… oh, you’re like a psychic? I think we had a psychic consult on a couple of cases, before I became a detective.”

I guess it was encouraging that he didn’t freak out at the idea of a psychic, but if I was going this far, I needed to be honest with him. “No—no, not at all. I can’t see the future. Some of the Rom claim to be able to, but I’ve never had anything resembling a premonition—that I know of anyway. I’m just a regular guy. There’s just this window open inside me… Things get through.”

“What… things?”

I vigorously scraped my fingers through my hair. “Jesus, how to explain. I don’t know how to fucking explain this to you!”

“Titus,” he said, drawing from his unfathomable well of composure. “The beginning, remember?”

“Right, right, the beginning… okay. The beginning. Here goes.” I stopped, cleared my throat, started again.

“My name is Titus Finnbar McGinty and I see dead people.” I stared hard at him, waiting for any reaction. He showed none. His face was a practiced mask of passivity. I wrinkled my brow. “Wait… that phrase is probably, like, copyrighted or some shit, right?”

He shrugged.

“Well, it’s the truth. I can see and hear ghosts. Among the Romany I’m called
chovihano
or
awenydd
—death talker, medium, witch. I’m considered a Shaman by my people—someone to be respected, but feared and held at arm’s length. As you know, I left that life behind years ago, but the souls… the ghosts… they followed.”

I paused. Charlie waited. We both held our breath. He didn’t move a muscle, and his simple, innate stillness made me want to climb the walls and start babbling like a crazy person. Maybe it would be easier to just play my part—
Admiral Nutjob of the Royal Ghost Army at your fucking service!

Finally Charlie leaned forward, rested his elbows on his thighs, and steepled his fingers. He gave me that inscrutable ‘detective look’ he wore when he was trying to figure something out, to make all the facts fit. “So you’re saying… that you see ghosts. Like wispy, floaty, haunty things?”

Somehow, even though his words were kind of humorous, I didn’t feel like he was laughing at me; he was just trying to understand something that wasn’t really… understandable. “Not like that, no. They appear to me like projections or holograms, sort of. Like, I see who they really were, but through a bad TV signal.”

Charlie swiped a hand over his mouth, his dark blond brows drawing low over his eyes. “Where do you see them?”

I sighed and closed my eyes. “Everywhere. Always.”

“That sounds like insanity.” As soon as the words were out, his eyes widened and he sat up straight. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that! I mean, like insanity-inducing.”

I laughed, amazed that I could do such a thing at a time like this. I guessed it was just the magic of Charlie. “Nah, I get it. I really have no idea how I’ve stayed relatively sane. My only explanation is that it’s all I’ve ever known, so I just learned to deal. Mostly. This is actually why I asked Hester to come here.”

“How so?”

“Since I’ve been estranged from my family since my teens, Hester never got to teach me the ways of the
chovihani
—and how to deal with my special ‘abilities.’”

“So this chovi—ghost thing runs in the family.”