A Song of Redemption: Funeral Singer, #5

By Lillian I Wolfe

The Battle hits home!

At a loss and depressed following her team's failure to contain Belphegor, Gillian Foster begins to pull herself together to plan her next moves and build a network of other spirit escorts to help her. The threat of the soul thieves grows daily and thrusts the need to stop them solely on her.

When a horrifying attack on her friend brings the problem home leaving Gillian's life in turmoil, she struggles to control the damage. Working with Orielle, the anthropologist, who is an expert on supernatural creatures, they soon find support from an unexpected source—the Vatican.

The path ahead is clear; the tasks to be done defined. Now all Gillian has to do is execute them and stay alive.

The exciting final book of the Funeral Singer series, "A Song of Redemption" brings Gillian to her full power and wraps up the story with drama and explosive action.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lillian I Wolfe
• Release date: Oct 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386401063

Lillian I Wolfe

Born in a different century, Lillian Wolfe migrated from the western part of Texas to Los Angeles where she lived for a few years before moving to Nevada ̶̶  first Las Vegas, then Reno.  She now makes her home in the Washoe Valley area and loves the life in Northern Nevada. She worked with computers and as a technical writer and trainer for several years for a major gaming manufacturer before her retirement.  For the past few years, she's turned her attention back to her first, and on-going love, of creative writing. She published her first book, "Funeral Singer", in 2015.  A paranormal suspense novel, it explores the possibility of another life after death as a musician's accidental head injury allows her to see and interact with ghosts in an ethereal cemetery. Is she really talking to them or is it just a hallucination? The second book in the series, "A Song for Menafee" is available at Amazon now, but both of these will be moving to other platforms soon. "O'Ceagan's Legacy" is the first book in a science fiction adventure series, following a family-owned merchant ship from an Irish colony in the Dragon Star system. It's a rollicking ride through space with a little romance thrown in. For more information, visit my blog site at www.LillianWolfe.me/loft

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Funeral Singer: A SONG OF REDEMPTION

Published By

Pynhavyn Press

Copyright © 2018 Lillian I Wolfe

All rights reserved.

e-book edition

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. Quotations and short excerpts may be used for review; otherwise no part of this work may be reproduced in whole or in part, by any means, without written permission from the publisher or the author.

First Edition: October 2018

Copyright © 2018 Lillian I. Wolfe

All rights reserved.

Front and Back Cover Art by

Barb Hoeter of Coverinked –  www.coverinked.com

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Epilog

Chapter 1

Afew scratches on the dark blue and gray surface indicated the vehicle might have scraped a few trees or rocks in its journeys, but nothing I could see suggested a serious accident. Overall, the snowmobile appeared relatively undamaged except for the front left ski and support that had been bent and twisted. The side I inspected had been buried under the snow when my boyfriend, Ferris, and I had found it a few weeks earlier on a ski trip in the Sierras.

Did he hit a rock? I asked the man who stood beside me in the impound lot.

Egan Moss, a detective from the Washoe County Sheriff’s Office, raised a hand above his eyes to block the morning sun and ducked his head a little as he peered at the damage. That’s the conclusion from our investigation. It’s easy enough to hit one when they’re covered with snow. It probably caused the snowmobile to veer and flip over. But it had to have traveled about twenty-five feet from the boulder that likely did it. We didn’t find anything conclusive on the stone that indicated the ski or the body hit it, so the stone won.

I quirked my lips into a sideways smirk at the bit of humor in his statement.

May I touch it? I asked, confident of the response since I had requested the opportunity to check it out a couple of weeks ago.

Sure. Knock yourself out, Foster, he answered taking a step back.

Sliding the plastic glove off my right hand, I squatted beside the damaged metal and reached out, pressing my fingers on the cold surface. To be honest, I figured this was a long shot, and the metal wouldn’t be likely to hold any memories or emotions from Roger Mitchell, my now-deceased stalker.

For over a year, Roger had followed my band from gig to gig around Reno because he had a crush on me. I’d actually joked that he was a stalker until he asked my group to play for his engagement party and I got a look at the Gillian Foster lookalike he planned to marry. That had sealed it. Relatively harmless but creepy. Still, I would never have wished his death.

Now, with my fingers pressed against the machine’s runners, I felt the sensation of speed, fast speed, along with turning and twisting as if on a slalom course, from the metal. Had Roger taken it out several times on an obstacle course of some sort? Surely, he wasn’t doing that through the forest? The turns between trees would be too sharp and much too dangerous to make.

But I didn’t get anything from the accident itself. Maybe the body of it could offer more. At least, here, he would have gripped the handlebars and touched the interior.

I pushed up to stand, then leaned over it and pressed my fingers to the bar, about where he would have gripped it. A hazy image formed in my mind, the late afternoon shadows across the snow and the trees looming up before me. The sharp swerve as he guided the vehicle around a tree, then another tree, and another. They came quickly, too quickly, and the speed didn’t diminish. In my view, they began to blur and became difficult to maneuver around. It veered to the left, just missing a tree, then the abrupt shock of the runner hitting something, continuing at an angle...

Feeling off-balance, I grabbed the edge of the snowmobile with my other hand to steady myself as the vision continued. The vehicle flipped, spinning and landing in a bank of snow near the edge of the meadow, right where Ferris and I had found it.

At the very end, as it had flipped, I’d glimpsed another person on a different snowmobile, following along behind Roger’s, a man about the same build and going at a slower pace. I couldn’t see much of his face under the helmet and snow goggles, but Roger hadn’t been out there alone. Roger had to have glanced back as I saw the man’s mouth lift into a one-sided sneer to his right.

Blinking, I tilted my head and straightened up. That was revealing, I said, then told Detective Moss everything I’d seen in that vision.

I’d worked with Moss several times since I’d first encountered him when I was a suspect in a murder case relating to my first spirit client. He’d been, and, to some degree, still was a skeptic, not quite believing my clairvoyant abilities nor my talent to see dead people. I couldn’t blame him. I scarcely believed it myself. Except I was the one witnessing it all.

Ever since I’d taken a fall on the ice and hit my head, I’d been able to see the recently departed. At first, it was only during their funerals while I was extemporaneously reciting their qualities and facts of their lives in songs that I transported to a transitional cemetery and could speak to them in person, so to speak. That talent led to a few others.

A mission to assist a young murder victim turned sour, and I’d been pulled in as a suspect in Egan Moss’s investigation. While Hernandez, Moss’s partner, believed me, it took a bit to convince Moss.

You don’t know who the other person was? he asked after I’d related the information.

No, he was too bundled up. He wore a dark blue snowsuit and had a black helmet on his head. Not much help.

He pursed his lips and thought for several seconds. Too bad. Anything else you can tell me?

Roger seemed to be traveling way too fast, and the trees looked blurry, kind of smeared across the vision. I don’t know if he was seeing them that way, but since it was his view, I’m guessing they were distorted some.

That ties in with the drugs in his system. Something isn’t quite right about this. But I can’t connect to what seems off. Let me do some research. At least, you’ve given me some indication that someone may know more than they’ve admitted or there’s another party that was involved. If he was a friend, why did he leave Mitchell in the snow, allow him to wander off, and not call for help?

My thoughts exactly, I said, wondering if Roger’s spirit could have told me who he was with that day. And why hadn’t he? Perhaps he couldn’t remember. I wasn’t sure I would be able to reach his soul again.

Rubbing his hands together to warm them, Moss turned and motioned for to me to follow. First, I need to find the person before we can even begin to figure out the rest of it. But if what you saw is right, then we could have a murder case.

I wasn’t sure if Moss considered that good news, but for me, it made a lot more sense than the accidental death or possible suicide ruling they’d initially rendered.

Following along behind as we left the lot, I thought about the victim of that crash. Roger had been presumed to be out by himself riding across the meadows in the Sierra Nevada Mountains when his snowmobile had flipped. It appeared he’d managed to get out of it, but had been in the forested area—which was just plain stupid when driving one of these—had gotten disoriented, and died of exposure.

Except the autopsy showed a high concentration of narcotics in his blood, suggesting that he was high. This, in turn, led the investigators to conclude it was an accidental death, or he deliberately chose suicide. They tended to believe the latter, but this might change that.

I had last seen Roger on the wrong side of the ethereal cemetery, the section beyond the gate that belonged to demons. He’d begged for my help and my forgiveness. I couldn’t do anything about the first part, but I had granted the last request. However, in that encounter and in the vision I’d had prior to it, he’d said nothing about being with anyone that day.

If I could reach him, I might get a name, but it was dangerous to try. Although I hadn’t been physically damaged, my left ankle had been sore for three days after the last excursion to the ethereal cemetery. It proved, once again, that even in the spirit form, I could be hurt by the yiaiwa, the evil spirit creatures my colleagues and I were battling.

Following Moss out the gate, I trailed him all the way to his car and paused to ask him about a different matter.

What’s happening with Nick Sarkis? I had a visit from Zoe last night. She’s getting impatient.

He cocked his head, and a goofy smile hit his mouth. My ghost connections amused him no end. I thought spirits had all the time in the world. Why is she getting so antsy about this? We’re working on it.

I tipped my head from side to side. Well, you know she’s not going to give up until he’s convicted. Wouldn’t it bother you if the person who killed you was still walking free and living the high life without being captured?

He jammed his hands in his pockets, leaned back against the car, and squinted at me. Yeah, maybe it would. I can only do so much, and it’s not our case. But I’m working on the lead you gave me. If it turns up something, then it could throw it back our way for a while.

Jeez, you guys are so leery of stepping on the Federal toes, I complained in a teasing voice. Gibbs wouldn’t let them stand in the way. I invoked the NCIS series’ lead character’s name like he was an investigations god.

Yeah, well, Gibbs isn’t real. Even if it was reasonable, I’m not in a position to do it. A state sheriff’s detective isn’t exactly Fed level.

We could always try my plan.

Holy shit, don’t you have enough on your psychic platter already? He frowned at me. Clearly, I’d told him too much about what was happening in my life, although I was happy to see him accepting my peculiar abilities more readily than he did at first.

Meanwhile, let me see what I can do about the case I can work on, he added. I’ll to try to shake a few trees and see if anyone falls out.

Right. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do. I sighed, pulled my hands out of my coat, and turned toward my Jeep parked four spaces further down the row.

I’ll do that, Moss called to me.

Right, I mumbled to myself. I realized that he had to keep details about everything quiet, and while I was not one of the privileged few he shared the information with, I was trying to help him. Something he had might trigger something with me. So far, touching the snowmobile had been the closest I’d come to actually working this case with him.

As I got behind the wheel, I checked my phone, seeing my daily text from Orielle. I opened it expecting the usual and caught my breath as I read the longer than normal message.

:Plan almost done to move Gavin back to US. One more set of papers to complete and final arrangements with airlines. Stanford Neuro will take him. More as I know it.:

Good news to some extent. Although we both knew that what kept Gavin in a coma was not a physical injury. I doubted Stanford would be able to wake him either. Whatever held him, I suspected the solution awaited me on either the next plane or the one below this reality.

Gavin had been injured and had fallen into a deep coma while the three of us were trying to seal Belphegor, a high-level fallen angel, inside a cave in India. With our plan backfiring in a stupendous explosion, I’d been thrown out of the cave while Gavin had been half-buried. Orielle, Gavin’s anthropologist associate with benefits, had been outside the cave when it happened and wasn’t injured. I got off lucky with minor scrapes and a mild concussion.

I sent a quick message back thanking her and asking that she keep me in the loop. I needed to meet with the Orielle when she got back even if it meant a trip to Stanford. Without Gavin’s input, she was the best guide to the next step for me to take.

Right now, I had to get to work. I’d already taken almost two hours off to do this reading, so it meant I would be at the grooming parlor late tonight getting through my quota of dogs. I was definitely not living the life I’d planned when I was in college. In fact, I felt further away from that musical career than ever. Humming to dogs while I clipped their fur didn’t count.

In the good news, Janna had lined up a private party at a new casino her company had just opened the prior month, and she’d hired me to play piano, sing a few tunes, and schmooze with the guests. She’d mentioned the name of the bigwig who’d rented the room, but it hadn’t meant anything to me. The only thing I really caught was the five hundred dollars she was going to pay me for the Sunday afternoon gig. That perked me up a little, so I was in a decent mood by the time I started in on my first furry customer, Mr. Barksir.

Heeni, my boss, looked relieved that I’d made it back to the shop. I think she was beginning to worry that I would disappear on some errand or something. Technically, I was my own boss. I rented the space from Heeni as a private contractor, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t boot me out if I didn’t deliver. In fact, she was pretty lenient, and I picked up a fair share of the dogs we groomed.

I had to admit that I hadn’t been up to par for the past few days since the trip to India and my return. While I worried about Gavin’s condition and if he would ever pull out of it, my fears were centered on the yiaiwa. How the hell would Orielle and my little band of spirit fighters be able to stop who knew how many of the powerful creatures? When my thoughts lingered there too long, I felt defeated before the battle had begun.

I moved on from one dog to the next, getting them bathed, clipped, and dried in good time. One difficult client, a nervous collie, who was on her first visit to the beauty parlor, gave me a little trouble as she bounced around in excitement. I went a little slower with her, humming as I worked to calm her down. Even that didn’t quite do it, and I had to be really patient with the knots in her fur.

You’re being quiet today, Heeni commented as she combed out a poodle-mix at the front station. What’s up?

I looked up and managed a small smile. Just got a lot on my mind. Things didn’t go so well on that trip I made last weekend and a friend got hurt.

She shot a piercing glance at me. What kind of craziness are you involved in now? Is it more of that nonsense with the funeral business? I told you that wouldn’t be good.

No, it wasn’t that...exactly. I mean, it was related but not actually about the singing. I was trying to resolve a problem with it. I skirted around the details as much as possible. I didn’t want to involve Heeni, or her business, in my problems. Besides, how would I explain that I’d gone to another country to try to trap a demon and failed? She’d call for the loony-cart to take me away.

You stay away from it. That will take care of it, Heeni said in her matter-of-fact tone. After that brawl last month at your gig, you need to steer clear of all of it. People are nuts. Thank goodness they don’t know you work here.

She had a legitimate concern there. So far, I’d managed to keep my day job a secret from Gayle Trumbull, an independent reporter who had become the bane of my life. But I didn’t know how long that might last. If it got out to the lunatics, who thought I was crazy or demonic, who knows what they might do? Worse, if I lost my slot here, what would I do? Right now, without the singing gigs, my dog income and the few jobs Janna could get me were barely paying the bills.

I finished with the collie and gave her a treat for being a good girl, then returned her to the cage to wait for her owner. Before I started the next pup, I took a quick break and ran a couple of doors down to pick up iced coffees for Heeni and me. I checked my phone messages and opened one from Janna.

It read: Hey, gf, just reminding you re: Friday night’s party for my bro. Mom’s expecting u. Be there.

Party? I frowned, then it clicked. Oh, yeah. Her younger brother, Andrew, had recently graduated from law school and had accepted a job in Los Angeles. Her mom wanted to send him off with a great going-away party and, of course, I had to be there.

As I thought about it, I realized I hadn’t seen Janna’s parents in over a year. When we were in high school, I’d been over there several times a week to study, join them for dinner, and even gone on family picnics and excursions now and then. Since my accident, I’d been so caught up in my own world and subsequent problems that I hadn’t even seen them at Christmas.

I sent a response telling her I’d be there and not to worry. I made a note to myself and added one to pick up a gift for Andy. I wished that Ferris would go with me, but he’d declined. He didn’t know Janna’s family that well. Besides, he told me he had some work to do on the music score he’d been working on. Sounded like an excuse to me.

Taking the coffees back to the shop, I handed one, a Vanilla latte to Heeni as I sipped happily on the caramel macchiato, a delightful indulgence I needed before facing another dog.

Too bad it couldn’t fortify me to confront a demon.

I got home later than usual, after eight. I’d swung through a drive-through to grab a hamburger and a salad on my way. My shoulders ached, and my head throbbed. I knew a good part of it came from stress, but the weariness had been with me since I’d gotten back from India. The explosion had taken more of a toll than I wanted to admit.

Nygard scurried down from upstairs, ready for his dinner, and he made it clear I needed to do that before I even touched a bite of mine. I paused long enough to set the bag on the coffee table, then took another few moments to make sure the house felt secure. Nothing tingled at my senses, and the cat’s eagerness for food suggested nothing had invaded while I was gone. While I set the safety wards, as usual, I still felt concern that the house might not be secure.

Once the cat and I had both eaten our dinners, I climbed upstairs and settled at the computer desk to check the email. Not too much of a personal nature, although quite a few trying to sell me something, offering me something for nothing, and the usual spam. However, one did catch my attention, and I hurried to open it. Father Garrity had sent some news.

I scanned it, noting the brevity of the message, but it was, more or less, good. He’d sent the information we’d given him on to the Church, and it had been passed to the appropriate people in Rome, he said. Who those might be, I had no idea, but at least someone in authority, I hoped. While he didn’t have any details about the reaction or what their course of action might be, the priest did say that Rome thanked Gavin and me for the information and that they would be following up on it.

That’s all? I wrote back. No indication that they’re going to take any action?

Of course, I thanked him for sending the message along and added that I sincerely hoped they were taking it seriously and might be in touch with us. I hesitated to say anything about our latest fiasco of an attempt to contain Belphegor. In fact, we hadn’t mentioned anything about the demon when we’d talked to Garrity, so best to continue to keep it quiet for now. If Rome showed any interest, then maybe I would mention what we’d tried to do.

With a shake of my head, I sent the message, then called up my chat group of demon fighters. Not too much chatter there either. A brief entry from EllyJ telling me she’d snail-mailed a package to me with a glove she used when making the bouquets for funerals. Elly figured the glove and its mate, which she kept, would have emotional charges that could link us. I thanked her, saying I’d let her know when I got the glove, and we could plan an attempt to connect.

Although I had a few misgivings, I hoped that we would be able to make a link, and I could eventually pull her through to my ethereal cemetery. After the experience with Gavin and Astrid, I wasn’t so confident.

Chapter 2

When I arrived at the Lewis’s house, the party for Andy was in full swing. A woman I almost didn’t recognize as Janna’s sister-in-law opened the door. I had only met Heather once before when she’d married Gordon, Janna’s older brother.

Come on in, she said and waved me in, pointing toward the dining room. Food’s on the table, help yourself. Andy’s around here somewhere. I think he was in the den. She flashed a polite smile before turning away.

I assumed she didn’t remember me and thought I was a friend of Andy’s, which I was, but not in the way she guessed. I caught a glimpse of Janna’s long, blond ponytail and made my way toward her. She chatted with a man around Andy’s age whom I presumed to be one of his friends. Once I was almost on top of her, she spotted me.

Gillian! You made it. I was worried. She threw her arms open.

I’m only a few minutes late, I objected and hugged her.

Well, yeah, but you know... She blinked at me. Oh, this is Andy’s best friend, Armin. He used to live next door.

I shook hands with him, noting his skin tones that suggested his Middle Eastern heritage. But he was a handsome dude with a friendly smile. He looked me up and down in one sultry-looking scan from his coffee-bean colored eyes. Too presumptuous, I thought as his gaze made me uncomfortable.

Gillian is my best friend, she told Armin just before she relieved me of the package I’d brought for Andy and stuck it on a separate table for gifts and cards.

So, are you the friend that sings?

I nodded as a feeling of discomfort rose up my spine. Was he going to say something about the fight during one of my gigs or about singing at funerals?

That’s cool. Janna thinks you’re terrific, and she’s usually right, Armin said with a little laugh.

I might have blushed a bit, but managed to ask, What do you do, Armin?

I have my bachelor’s in engineering. At the moment, I’m going for my master’s. I hope to land a job with an aerospace company, maybe Space X, once I get it.

Oh, that’s great, I said. Clearly, he was a very smart dude. And evidently, his family had money if he was not working while going to the university. Where are you studying? I figured it wasn’t at UNR, not for the masters.

I’m at Caltech in Pasadena.

He said it so casually as if everyone could get in there. Wow! That’s amazing. So you and Andy will be pretty close to each other.

He laughed. Yeah, you could say that. I’m trying to talk him into rooming with me.

Doesn’t he want to? I was beginning to reassess my initial observation of Armin.

Maybe. He wants to get settled into his job before deciding where to live.

Makes sense, I answered. If you’ll excuse me, I want to go say hi to Andy. With an apologetic smile, I turned to go to the den.

I’d made it partway there when I felt a hand clasp my shoulder, and I turned my head to look back. Janna’s mother had caught up with me. A big smile lit up her face as she said, Gillian! It’s about time you made it over here again. We’ve missed you.

I gave her my apologetic, gritted-teeth look like a child caught tracking mud across the carpet. I know. I’m sorry, Mrs. Lewis. The whole last year has kinda spun out of control.

You poor girl. Janna told me about your problems. We were out of town when you got taken by that killer and didn’t hear about it until two or three weeks later. We thought you’d come by when you felt better. Her eyes held a sympathetic look.

But she hadn’t tried to contact me or even send an invite through Janna at the time. That was typical of her. Communication was kind of a one-way street, and it only flowed from my direction.

Like I said, I got a bit overwhelmed by events. That was true. While I’d considered Janna’s place like a second home, that didn’t make me really close with her parents. So it didn’t occur to me to contact them. Heck, I didn’t even call my own mother.

She caught my hand and stood back to look at me. Well, you look terrific. Slimmed down and in great shape. Janna said you two were working out together. But what is this about singing at funerals?

My eyebrows lifted. What?

You were on some news show, weren’t you? She didn’t even pause for my answer. Really, dear, you really shouldn’t be doing something as odd as that with your talent.

Yeah, I know. I’m trying to give it up, I said as I looked for an escape route. I was just on my way to see Andy...

Oh, of course. He’s gone out to the patio, I think. A few of his friends are smoking. By the way her pretty mouth, so much like Janna’s, turned down, I could see her disapproval.

Great. I’ll go out there then. I’ll check back with you later. I turned and hurried back through the dining room toward the patio before she could catch up with me again.

As soon as I stepped out into the smoke on the porch, I saw Andy in the middle of a group of five people about his age, two girls and three guys and all of them were smoking, Andy included. I made my way to him, looped my arm through his and said, Does your mother know you smoke?

He took the cigarette out of his mouth and pursed his lips together, saying through them, Are you going to tell her?

I ain’t no snitch, honey, I said in a low voice, and we both giggled. It was a joke between us. He’d had the line in a play when he was in the fifth grade before his voice had lowered, and it sounded hysterical when his squeaky kid voice said it. Everyone had laughed; every single time he said it.

He hugged me. Like Janna, he was impossibly good-looking, so sexy and tall. He’d fit right in with the pretty people in Hollywood, but he was a lawyer, just out of law school, in fact.

So tell me about this job you’re starting, I said.

It’s with an entertainment agency. I’m eager to do entertainment law, so it’s a good match. With enough experience, I can get on with a legal firm that specializes in it and work my way to the top, baby. He flipped his sunglasses down over his eyes.

Going Hollywood already, I see, I grinned at him and gave him a squeeze. I coughed pointedly. Look, I’m gonna leave you to your friends and smoke. I just wanted to wish you tons of luck in LA. And maybe I’ll see you down there sometime.

Impulsively, he kissed my cheek and released me so I could slip away. Glad to extricate myself from the smoke, I went back inside and grabbed some of the punch,—spiked!—picked up a couple of finger sandwiches and some chips, and made my way to a seat in the living room that still felt warm from whoever had vacated it.

I wasn’t crazy about going to parties where you knew very few people, and you weren’t the entertainment. I got enough of it when I was performing and had to mingle and schmooze. Sadly, apart from Janna’s family, I didn’t know anyone else in the room. I figured I’d give it another thirty minutes, then slip out and no one would be the wiser.

Great plan until Janna found me and plopped down next to me.

I’m glad you came, she said right off.

I didn’t want to miss saying good luck to Andy. Can’t believe he’s off to a whole new world.

She giggled. Like you actually saw him much.

That doesn’t mean I don’t care about the little twerp. We had a lot of fun teasing him. He certainly has matured well.

She nodded. Yeah, he has. He should turn a few heads in Tinsel Town.

Both men and women, I would imagine.

Yep. That’s probably true. I’m gonna miss him.

I didn’t think you saw him that often.

She turned her gaze to me. At least once a month for dinner. You know I see Mom and Dad regularly, or they’d send out a patrol to look for me.

And you didn’t invite me to come along?

Her look turned pouty. Like I didn’t ask you? I did, but it went right past you. You’ve been more than a little distracted for the past year, Gilly. I gave up after the first few tries.

Oh. I don’t remember...

Just fess up. You didn’t want to be in the middle of one of my mom and dad bicker-fests. She winked at me and looked away to where her mom stood talking with an older woman across the room. I thought it was an aunt or something.

Speaking of your dad, where is he? I haven’t seen him or Gordon.

Umm, I think they disappeared into Dad’s office around the start of the party.

I chuckled. Good move.

What’s happening with the monsters, Gilly? I know you took off for a weekend, but you haven’t said much since. Even Ferris has been tight-lipped about it. She referred to the excursion I’d made to India to attempt to seal Belphegor back in his cage.

Yeah, there isn’t a lot to say. Gavin, a colleague of his, and I tried to undo a mistake. It didn’t work out so well. Gavin’s in the hospital, and I’m feeling kind of lost. I gazed down, keeping my voice soft as I said it.

Gavin’s hurt? A mistake? One you made? Her eyes showed worry as her eyebrows lowered a bit.

I’ll tell you more when we’re alone, Janna. This is a party and not the place for this discussion.

Her lips drew tight as she nodded. I’ll hold you to it.

Growing perkier, she said, So, is Ferris going to work the party on Sunday with you? I know you mentioned he might. I don’t mind paying a little extra to have him perform.

I’m pretty sure he will. I’ll let you know tomorrow, okay?

She agreed, then we chatted about her job a little longer. With the new casino in Washoe Valley opening, she was excited and nervous about the event. It would be the first private event in the new ballroom, so she wanted it to be special. Janna had landed her perfect position, something that suited her and her talents. I was glad to see her so happy with her new job even though it meant many long hours.

Her love life, on the other hand, wasn’t bubbling as much. She still dated Jared, a colleague from work, now and then, but she didn’t have time for a serious relationship. Although she assured me once again that Jared wasn’t more than a fun friend, I kind of felt sorry for him since she’d never taken him seriously in her quest for the perfect man.

I’m sure Mr. Right will come along soon, I said to encourage her as she looked a little wistfully across the room where her sister-in-law talked to a little boy about five.

I hope before too long, she said. I’d like to have a family before I get too far into my thirties.

I hear you. I think about it sometimes also, but I just don’t feel I’m in a position to even contemplate having kids.

Have you and Ferris even discussed getting that far? she asked.

Whoa. We’re still working on the relationship. I love him, but it’s still new in many ways. And my life is a nightmare at the moment. Frankly, I don’t know if it’s ever going to get better. My music career is dying rapidly, and the supernatural side of it is threatening to do the same to me. My voice sounded as dejected as I felt.

Tears welled at the corners of Janna’s eyes as she bit her lower lip. I’m sorry, Gilly. It all really sucks, but I know you can handle it. You’re tough and strong. You wouldn’t have been handed this if you couldn’t do it.

As a pep talk, it failed to ignite my enthusiasm. Since the disaster in India, I felt lost and drifting. Hell, I was even eager for Orielle to return to Reno just to have some guidance in this pursuit of evil. Losing Gavin, even temporarily—assuming he would eventually pull out of the coma—really set me back.

Janna wrapped her arms around me sideways as we sat next to each other and laid her head against my shoulder. Have faith, hunny. You’re fighting on the right side, and you’re not alone.

I slid an arm around her waist and squeezed, then we both let go, so it didn’t look like anything more than the friendly hug it was to anyone else in the room.

Look, I’m gonna go. I’ll say bye to your mom, so she doesn’t think I ran out on her, but I’m not in the right mood for a party today.

Janna’s sad look was answer enough, but she nodded, then sprang to her feet to visit with another of her brother’s friends. I looked around, spotted Mrs. Lewis, and rose to offer my excuse to run off.

Back home, I cuddled with Nygard on the couch and allowed the tears I’d been holding back most of the melancholy day to flow. Tears for Gavin, tears for myself, maybe even a few for Roger, whom I hadn’t been able to help when he was pulled to the evil side of the cemetery. This whole demon-fighting thing sucked.

Nygard took it in stride, licking at my face and purring as I held my own pity party. Have faith, Janna had said. One thing I lacked quite a bit.

I stared at the ceiling and mumbled, God, if you have chosen me for this, couldn’t you have given me more guidance? Am I supposed to be learning something from this experience? If I fail—if I can’t get enough help—then the consequences will hurt thousands or maybe even millions of people. Of all the people you might have selected, you picked the weakest link.

Oh, I wouldn’t say that, angel girl, Zoe’s voice suddenly boomed in the room.

The problem with ghosts is they can simply drop in on you whenever they feel like it. Zoe had been a recent client, and even though I’d shepherded her and her girlfriend through the light tunnel, she still had a task for me to finish.

I turned my head to see her ghost standing on the other side of the coffee table. Nygard’s head swiveled that direction as well. He hissed, then jumped down and retreated to the kitchen. He wasn’t fond of ghosts.

Can’t you ever knock? I said, sitting up and swiping a hand across my watery eyes.

On what? The door? It takes enough energy just to manifest without blowing extra to pound on an object.

I frowned at her. I was having a soulful moment. And it was private.

Yeah, you’re wallowing in it. You’re tougher than that, so buck up. No sympathy came through in either her voice or her expression, which was intent on her own grievance. So, what’s happening with my shit husband? Have you located him yet?

I shook my head, seeing the frown that immediately covered her face. I have my detective friend looking into it, but it’s an FBI case and–

Those screw-ups? she interrupted. They have enough on their bumbling hands already, it seems. Nicolas Sarkis isn’t even on their radar at the moment. He’s a small fish, so they aren’t worried. I’m the only one who gives a shit!

I care. I just can’t do a lot. That came out like a lame whine. Sorry, Zoe. I want to see him caught and punished, but I can only push so hard.

She plopped her ghostly self on the coffee table as if she were actually sitting and leaned toward me. Shit, I gave you the key to getting to Nick. Trust me; he hasn’t changed that email address. You need to be more persistent with your detective. You can locate him and lure him back if you have the guts to do it.

Don’t talk to me about guts, I shot back angrily. "I have been through more in the past year than you can probably imagine. I have guts, but I am not keen on