“Don’t!” I cry out again. I leap up and push the pistol away as another gunshot rings out. I can’t let Paige hurt Elizabeth. She knows my demon’s name. She can save me.
Santa Muerte crouches on all four and hisses at us, readying for another attack. Just as she’s about to lunge, she stops. Her heads whips toward the front of the house as if she is listening.
Something screeches from outside. A sound I’ve heard before. An owl.
Santa Muerte face turns to me, fury washing over her face. Just like at the library, a mysterious force pulls her and sucks her out of the open doorway. I run out the back door and watch as she disappears into the night sky.
My eyes are drawn to the ground outside and the steps at my feet. Several feet away in the grass, lying on her back, is Leona. Blood has pooled around her body and has soaked into the ground.
Shouts of the police announcing their presence echo behind me. I slowly raise my arms, my wounded shoulder limiting how high I can lift that arm. I step backward, and I sense an energy pass through me.
Leona’s ghost emerges through my body and materializes before me. I watch as she replays the moment of her death. Her face twists in pain and shock. She stumbles back, and her spirit crumbles before me then settles into the body lying on the grass.
It’s like I said—there are two types of ghosts. A residual ghost is like an energy force playing in an infinite loop. Residual ghosts do not interact with the real world any more than a projected movie would. Like Leona’s ghost.
Then there are intelligent ghosts, the kind trapped on this plane of existence who know they are trapped. These ghosts interact with the living—or in some cases, possess them. Elizabeth is possessed, just like me.
I take a knee and feel a police officer grab my arm and jerk it behind my back. My bad shoulder burns as the muscle tears in his grip. I don’t care. Elizabeth is still alive, possessed by the spirit who knows my demon’s name.
Chapter 24
____◊____
IT DOESN’T LOOK GOOD for Paige and me at first glance. That night, we entered the premises of a known drug dealer without permission. Police stationed at the scene report hearing gunshots. Then they arrived to find Paige holding a gun and me standing over the body of a dead woman.
That was why I didn’t resist when they arrived and why I didn’t complain when they wrenched my injured shoulder to handcuff me. I didn’t offer any resistance when they escorted me to the driveway and shoved me into the back of a squad car. It’s also why I didn’t say a single word when they started asking us questions. I didn’t even ask for a lawyer.
The red and blue lights move across the front yard as a helicopter spotlight sweeps the grounds. I look out the back seat through the window to Paige, who sits in the back of another squad car. Through an open door, a plainclothes detective listens to her as she talks. I have no choice but to trust that Paige isn’t saying anything relevant. There’s a good chance I won’t talk to her until after the police have both our statements, and the worst thing we could do is offer contradictory information.
Strike that. The worst thing we could do is tell the truth.
Through the rear window, I can make out a soft glow over the manicured bushes—certainly emanating from the television crews filming this breaking news story. My cuffed hands sit in my lap. At least the LAPD was kind enough to front cuff me on account of my shoulder. I rotate my arm, trying to find a comfortable position.
Paige finishes her interview. The detective closes the door on her and turns away, a look of disgust on his face. Good girl, Paige.
At this point, the police know I’m not saying anything to them. I’m not talking until someone I can trust arrives. When David opens the door and slides into the back seat with me, I breathe a sigh of relief. He’s the only one I know will have my back in this.
“I’m swear to God, Darcy, you’d better have a damn good explanation for this, or I’m letting you rot in jail.”
My knight in shining armor. “Is the medical examiner here?”
David shakes his head, already growing impatient. “Yeah, he’s here. Why?”
“Here’s the deal. First, you’re going to talk to the cop on surveillance tonight. He’s going to tell you Paige and I arrived at ten fifteen. This is going to be corroborated by a rideshare receipt you’ll find on my phone. Second, the medical examiner is going to determine that the time of death was well before that time frame. And for the trifecta, Leona wasn’t killed by a gunshot.”
“The police on duty report hearing two gunshots.”
“Yes, Paige fired her gun—”
“What the hell is Paige doing with a gun?”
“I know! It’s ridiculous. And believe me, I’m going to have a talk with her about it later.”
“This isn’t a joke, Darcy.”
“Leona’s heart was ripped out, David.”
He stops. I can see the thoughts racing through his mind. This information is good and bad at the same time.
“Just like Lupe?” he asks.
“Just like Lupe.”
“That puts you at two crime scenes with the same MO.”
“I know, but it also means she wasn’t shot. I don’t know when she died, but it was well before we got here.”
“This is a colossal mess,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You wanna explain why there was a report of shooting outside your apartment this afternoon?”
Oh, right. “You heard about that?”
“Yeah. When a dozen people call 911, it gets around the department. Was that Paige, too?”
“No, no, no. Someone else shot me.” I nod toward my injured shoulder.
He looks at me and does a double take, seeming to notice my bandage for the first time. “You
