“Burnt circuits.” That was what it reminded me of. “What do you think happened?”
“Whoever is pulling Old Man Fang’s strings knows you’re onto them.” He sniffed the air again. “The power is on down the street. Whatever happened, it’s localized to the motel.”
Finch’s earlier assertion that Parish had sent me, and not my team, kept seeping into my thoughts.
Had Parish known about Mom? Did he know about Dad? Or was he simply acting in his capacity as the deputy director?
I was the black magic expert, as Asa had reminded me, and I got tapped for cases involving the dark arts.
A summoning ring of black witches crafting violent spirit manifestations was right up my alley.
“Let me touch base with Colby.” I shot her a text. “I doubt we get lucky, but we might find something.”
>Room number for our summoner?
>>Lucky thirteen.
>>Based on the security footage, you’ve got another black witch on your hands.
>You have a lot of fingers in a lot of pies for someone who doesn’t eat pie.
>>What can I say? I have a lot of fingers.
Technically, she had none. But she made up in arms what she lacked in individual digits.
>>Be safe.
>Always.
After pocketing my cell, I drew my wand but kept it down by my thigh. “Let’s go.”
We cut a path to the room, the ozone smell intensifying, and I kicked the door open.
Yes, I could have knocked first, but violence against inanimate objects was cathartic.
The one area where I was on par with the guys’ hearing was in the detection of heartbeats. But once the door swung open, I could tell by that clawing, hungry pit in my stomach that the summoner was gone.
“You take the left side, and I’ll take the right.” I checked under the bed before I stripped it, searching for any hidden nastiness that might hurt someone else later. I combed over the pillow for hairs, but the black witch knew enough not to leave those behind. “Nothing.”
Except for an indigo wizard’s robes with glittering silver moons embroidered on the hem.
These guys must use the same costumer, and I had been in her workspace.
Lucky me.
Asa shook his head, confirming he had come up empty too. “How is he controlling Old Man Fang?”
“The necromancer claimed the bones had to be buried on land belonging to the summoner,” I recalled. “Grave dirt was required too.” I searched the room. “Do you think the black witch lives in town? Maybe they buried the bones locally but hid out at the motel to throw us off their scent.”
“That would make him smarter than the others, but it doesn’t explain the logo on the motel’s site.”
“True.” I wasn’t sure how to account for that. “We’ll add that to the list of things we don’t know.”
Assuming I could find the end of it. It must stretch for miles by now. At least as far back as Raymond.
“With the summoner on the run, we might earn a reprieve from Old Man Fang.”
“We can hope.” That would make my day. “Do you want to drop in on the maintenance guy?”