"And there were no strangers at his funeral? Someone who seemed out of place?"
He hesitated. "I didn't know a lot of his friends and work colleagues, and many of them were there."
"Where did he work?"
"Coles. He was a shelf stocker."
"I very much doubt our witch is working for Coles stocking shelves," Kye said, amusement lacing his tone.
I met his gaze with a smile. "Probably not. But it still makes me wonder if these are random raisings, or if she has a pattern." I hesitated, and glanced at Habbsheen. "Where was he buried?"
"Fawkner."
The other zombie had been taken from a cemetery as well, although I wasn't sure it was Fawkner. Maybe there was no pattern except that they were fresh burials. Maybe the witch was simply going to whatever cemetery gave her the best options. "And there was a notice in the paper?"
He nodded. "If what you're saying is true..." He paused, glancing at his son's remains then swallowing heavily. "Who would do this to us? Why chose our son? He didn't do anything to anyone. We didn't do anything to anyone."
"Whoever is raising these people doesn't seem to have any particular reason for doing so." At least, not one that he'd like to hear. It was bad enough having a son raised from the grave. Knowing that he'd been raised solely to murder other people would be an absolute kicker.
"Then Rob's not the first... zombie?... you've found?"
"No, Mr. Habbsheen, he's not. But we're hoping he'll be the last."
"Good." He looked at the body of his son. "What happens to him now, then?"
"I've called in the Directorate magi, Mr. Habbsheen. They'll be here soon, and hopefully they'll be able to undo whatever has been done to your son's body, so he can be reburied in peace."
"And my wife?"
"If she causes no more problems, I won't press charges."
"So I can untie her? She won't cause any more problems, I assure you."
"She may not, Mr. Habbsheen, but for the moment I think we'll leave her tied. You can seat her more comfortably though, if that's any help." I glanced at Kye. "It might be a good time for you to leave."
"Are you sure you're going to be okay here with the two of them?"
I glanced at Habbsheen. The man had slumped shoulders and a defeated look about him. Of course, it could be all an act, but I doubted it. Still...
"As I said, the Directorate crew will be here shortly, and unless Mr. Habbsheen wants to see his wife arrested, or worse, he will make sure she causes no more problems."
Habbsheen's shoulders slumped a little more. Kye's gaze met mine briefly, then he nodded and turned, making his way up the stairs.
I followed him to the front door.
"You really need to keep your nose out of Directorate business." I grabbed the door as he flung it open, preventing it swinging back against the plaster.
He stopped and gave me the sort of smile that would surely melt the panties off most regular females. As it was, it damn near scorched mine.
"We both know that's not going to happen. Not until I catch my target." He raised a hand and gently cupped the left side of my face, his touch so light and yet somehow so erotic. "You'll have to arrest me to stop me, Riley."
The heat of him washed over me, caressing my skin, my senses. He hadn't even moved, yet suddenly he seemed so much closer.
I licked my lips and tried to ignore the unsteady racing of my heart. The way every breath seemed filled with the musty, all-male scent of him. "I will do it, Kye. Have no doubt of that."
"I have no doubt you'll try," he said softly, and then he kissed me.
Not like before. Not heatedly, not desperately, but gently, sweetly. As if we were two sweethearts kissing for the very first time, unsure of our emotions and each other.