Killer Moon (Psychic For Hire 2)

DIANA

A week later I am back at Agency Headquarters for the third day in a row, and I am excited.

“How are you liking your new office, newbie?” says Monroe, ruffling my hair.

Remi laughs as she deposits another box of files next to the one that Monroe has already dropped on the ground. It had thunked loudly thanks to the bare floorboards of the barren room that they have both been jokingly calling my office.

This room, in the attic of the old building, had not seen daylight for years before I had commandeered it. Storm had hired me to look over some old unsolved cases belonging to various Agency teams and asked me to get a feel for them, in case I find any new leads.

Rather handily, I wasn’t allowed to remove the files from the premises, which means I get to work at headquarters and see Storm and the team. The downside is all the other people who I don’t want to see.

I’d said I needed a quiet space, the thought of working in the main office with so many eyes watching my every move being too daunting. So Monroe and Remi had found me this empty space. Currently there is not even a desk in it. Just a flying hammock that had been a gift from Theo, the ropes at its ends magically attached to thin air.

After much debate this week, Monroe and I had agreed that maybe, just maybe, he was the one who had found the lead that had helped Storm break the case wide open. Naturally I am not going to tell Monroe that Alys had broken the case before Storm.

I am hoping later today, and with Theo’s help, to bury Alys for good. I have already got rid of the amulet Theo had given me, seeing as the only thing it had achieved was to block off my psychic abilities. My dreams had returned, and disturbing though some of them might be, their return had been reassuring. And it had meant I could actually take this assignment when Storm offered it. I suspect I have Monroe and Remi to thank for that.

Remi flings herself up into my hammock. She leans over its edge as it rocks back and forth, and gazes down on us. She swings her body to one side and the hammock flies through the air. She gives a shout of laughter.

“This is awesome,” she declares. “I need one of these in my life.”

“Ahem!”

The sound of someone clearing their throat makes us look over to the doorway. Storm is standing there, his arms crossed over his chest, and his shoulder leaning against the door jamb. One of his eyebrows is raised in amusement. My heart leaps with delight, and I don’t even care that I am quite obviously ogling him. The man could easily have died. He is back to looking good enough to eat. He is not carrying crutches. There is no sign at all that he had been shot a week ago.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him in surprise. He is supposed to be taking the rest of the week off to recover from his gunshot wound.

He doesn’t bother to answer my question, perhaps thinking it is to impertinent for his bossliness. “Someone is here to see you,” he says.

We all follow him back to his office, and I give a cry of delighted surprise to see India Lawrenson inside with her foster parents. I go into give her a warm hug. She had been in hospital the last time I had seen her yesterday.

“When did they let you out?” I ask.

“They discharged me just today,” she says. “We came to pick up Rachel’s things.” I glance at the clear evidence bag of belongings in her hands. Rachel’s handbag is in there, and I had already snuck back into the evidence lockup to replace the perfume and makeup that Alys had removed.

India glances at her foster parents, and they smile at her in encouragement. “I’m going to go back home for a while, before deciding what to do next,” she says.

It has turned out India’s foster parents aren’t quite the monsters I had assumed they were. I still think it wasn’t cool that they clearly hadn’t fully trusted India right from the start. India says it was down to their grief. That sometimes you have to have faith in people. I hope she is right.

I’m happy for her that she has a home to go back to, though a little sad I will be losing a new friend. She had told me just yesterday that she wasn’t sure what to do with her life now that Rachel was gone. There was no reason left for her to be in London. She had broken off her relationship with Charlie already, and had no desire to ever see him again. He had not even apologized for cheating on her with her best friend, something that makes me want to find him and pummel him. Alys had offered to do so, and I had been sorely tempted.

“Stay in touch?” I ask her.

“I will,” she promises, hugging me one last time before she leaves. “Thank you for believing in me,” she whispers in my ear. “I would never have made it without you.”

Leo, Remi and Monroe had been hovering near Storm’s office door speaking to the Garretts. They shake hands with India and the Garretts and wish them well. After they are gone, Storm turns to me. “Did she ever tell you what happened when she went missing from the hospital?” he asks.

I make a noncommittal sound and shake my head in a way that might be a no or

might be a yes, but most definitely is not an answer.

“So she has no idea who locked Hank Lowry in that cage?” Storm persists.

“Maybe it was the same person as your mystery shooter,” I say jokingly. Storm has not quite given up on trying to catch whoever it was that rescued him from the alpha and shot up her three comrades outside the store. So far he has ruled out Kurt Gibbon. I am hoping a new case comes along soon to distract him from this particular mission.

Leo’s stomach gives a loud growl.

“Team lunch?” asks Remi hopefully. The others agree, but I shake my head regretfully. It is Friday. I had arranged to only work a half day because I have a rather urgent appointment with Theo. We had planned it for Friday as I might need the weekend to recover from it.