Maybe it was narrow-minded and cowardly, but it was the truth. I knew what Jasmine would say if I admitted any of this to her. So I stayed quiet. I would let her curiosity and determination run its course. If it turned out I was right and there was no lifting the curse, at least I’d be prepared to pick up her pieces, having not allowed myself to hope in the first place. If she did find something…well, I’d gladly embrace hope then.
I tugged a windbreaker on and stuffed my phone in my back pocket. With the box under one arm and my skateboard under the other, I jogged toward the elevator.
I knew Uncle Vic probably had a ton of paperwork to do. It would be awkward to skate with this box but I could do it. Plus, Esmer didn’t live too far from the precinct. The weather report hadn’t predicted any rain for tonight. I would be fine. I just had to find my uncle and let him know where I was going.
Thing was, I couldn’t find him.
I expected him to be at his desk, typing or making calls to find proof of the Smiths’ story. But he wasn’t there. The desk lamp was off and his computer was dark. I walked the length of the first floor, scanning the few remaining people still working past the traditional clock out time. He wasn’t talking with any of them. I stopped by the tech department and the morgue to see if maybe he’d gone looking for more clues. The intern running our killer’s profile picture through the facial recognition software said my uncle had left with Vanessa a while ago. Dr. Ochoa was sewing up the Y incision on Mr. Delaney’s chest when I poked my head into the autopsy room, a solitary white coat standing between empty silver tables.
Maybe he went out to get dinner? He usually texted me or came down to the apartment to ask us what we wanted to eat before heading out, though.
I finally stopped by one of the desks near the break room and whipped out my phone to call him. But then—
“I just don’t understand why you always take Charlie’s side. I know he has psychic powers but he’s still basically a kid.” It was Vanessa. Her voice was coming from the break room. “He hasn’t been trained for this job. Not like I have. I could’ve helped.”
“It wasn’t Charlie’s call. I decided not to invite you into the interrogation room. From the way my niece and nephew were acting, I deduced they were psychically connected to those suspects somehow. They wouldn’t have been comfortable talking about it or using the extent of their abilities while you were around, so I did what I thought was best for the case. It wasn’t done maliciously, Nessie. Please, believe me.” My uncle hadn’t raised his voice but it was stern enough to silence any more objections.
Or so I thought.
“All right. Fine. Why won’t you tell me what you discovered then?” Vanessa challenged.
“I’ve told you exactly what you need to know.”
A frustrated exhale. “I can’t help you solve this case if I don’t know all the details, Vic.”
“You’re helping plenty.”
“This isn’t fair! This is a high-profile case, not to mention a really juicy one. Assisting can get me recognized, maybe bump me up to detective! You can’t sideline me now.”
I shoved my phone back in my pocket and stalked toward the break room. She was lucky Uncle Victor had let her shadow him for this long, lucky he’d shared any details with her at all. He hadn’t done that for anyone else. She had no right to demand more.
“I promise I’m not sidelining you.” My uncle sounded tired all of a sudden. “I gave you my conditions when I first allowed you to start shadowing me. The details of Charlie and Jasmine’s gifts are secret, and I have the right to exclude certain case details if—”
“If those details come too close to revealing the true nature or extent of their abilities,” Vanessa finished for him in a mutter more appropriate for a five-year-old. “I know, but after all this time and everything we’ve been through…”
I stopped in the break room’s doorway.
My uncle leaned both palms against the counter and stared at the coffee maker while it brewed his umpteenth cup of coffee. Vanessa Burkley stood beside him with a hand on his arm. I couldn’t see the expression on her face because her curly hair was in the way, but I was sure she was pouting.
“Haven’t I earned your trust yet?” Her voice was almost too quiet to compete with the decrepit coffee maker’s coughing.
Uncle Victor glanced at her. I only saw his profile from where I was standing, but something about that pause made me hesitate to make my presence known. He was staring pretty intently at her face. I stepped back. I had to move fast but not too fast, otherwise they’d see movement out of the corners of their eyes. Or maybe not; they did seem really absorbed in each other.
Then they started leaning in.
Shit. Shit. Shit! I did not want to see this! I leapt behind the wall just before their lips could meet. It turned out I’d panicked for no reason.
“I’m sorry,” my uncle said abruptly. “I can’t do this. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“What are you talking about?”
I shuddered. I didn’t want to hear this either. Pulling out my phone, I decided I’d just tell him where I was going
