Demon Hunting In the Deep South (3 page)

The sheriff turned his attention to Addy. “And you are?”

Addy rose to her feet. “Addy Corwin.”

A rectangular box on the sheriff ’s belt squawked. “ ’Scuse me,” he said. He pushed a button and spoke into the device. “Go ahead.”

A crackling voice emerged from the contraption. “We got a homicide at Peterson’s Lumber Mill, Dev. Adult white female. Multiple stab wounds.”

“Lock it down and don’t touch anything. I’m on my way.” The sheriff clipped the device back onto his belt and turned to Evie. “I have to go to the scene. Three of my deputies are out with the stomach flu and we’re short staffed. Would you mind coming to my office to make your statement?”

“No, of course not,” Evie said.

“Thank you. That would be a big help. I’ll have one of my men drive you to the office.”

Addy bristled. “Why can’t she make her statement at the police station? She knows the chief and will feel more comfortable talking to him.”

“The mill’s outside of town, Addy,” the chief said. “This is county business.”

Addy crossed her arms and looked stubborn. “Then I’m going with her.”

“You’re welcome to wait for Miss Douglass in the reception area while she makes her statement,” the sheriff said. “I’ll warn you, though. Sometimes these things take a while.”

“The wheels of justice grind slowly, is that it?” Addy said in a belligerent tone.

Evie laid her hand on Addy’s arm. “Addy, please, the sheriff’s just trying to do his job.” She gave Whitsun a wan smile that pierced Ansgar’s heart. “We’ve been friends since elementary school, and she’s a little overprotective.”

“That’s quite all right, ma’am. I understand.” The sheriff looked at the chief. “Carl, would you mind waiting here with Miss Douglass until my deputy gets here?”

“Be glad to,” the chief said. “Anything we can do to help, you let me know.”

“I’ll do that.”

With a curt nod, Sheriff Whitsun left.

The chief took Evie by the elbow and guided her up the steps. “You look a little puny, Evie. Why don’t we sit on the porch and maybe Addy can get us a little something to drink?”

“I am feeling a little dizzy.” Evie gave Addy a pleading look. “There’s sweet tea in the fridge, Addy. Would you mind?”

“Course not, although I don’t think I should leave you alone with the Po-Po.” Addy paused at the front door and scowled at the chief. “Don’t you try any of that sneaky cop stuff while I’m gone, you hear? Evie, you holler if he does and I’ll come running.”

“Oh, for the love of—” The chief gave Addy an exasperated look. “Do you think I’d do that to Evie? I’ve known you two girls all your lives. For Christ’s sake, Addy, I date your
mother
.”

“Huh,” Addy said with a sniff. “You’re the Man now, Chief, and everybody knows you can’t trust the Man.” She started inside and took a step back. “And you’d better not let Bitsy hear you calling Our Lord and Savior out his name, or your ass will be grass and Mama will mow it.”

Addy was standing at the counter in the kitchen when Ansgar materialized at her elbow.

“There is something peculiar about the human called Whitsun,” he said without preamble. “I do not trust him.”

Addy shrieked and almost dropped the pitcher she was holding. “Blondy, don’t sneak up on me like that. Are you
trying
to give me a heart attack?”

Irritation spiked along his nerves. “As I have told you many times, my name is Ansgar, not Blondy. As for your question, I assume it was rhetorical. You are Dalvahni now. We do not suffer heart attacks or other human maladies.”

Addy rolled her eyes. “Same old Blondy. About as much fun as a kidney stone. God, I’m
soooo
glad you’re back.
Not.
”

“My cup of joy overfloweth at seeing you as well. Tell me about this Whitsun. Who is he?”

Addy shrugged and set the pitcher on the counter. “I don’t know much about him, except he’s not from Hannah. Grew up somewhere out in the county. But he seems like an all right guy to me.”

“He is not ‘all right,’ ” Ansgar said. “I do not like him.”

Addy gave him a shrewd glance. “You don’t like anything with a pecker that gets around Evie. Why don’t you stop moping around and introduce yourself? Or should I say
reintroduce
? We both know she’s the reason you’re here.”

“A Dalvahni warrior does not mope.”

“Huh. Could have fooled me. You’ve been following Evie around like a dog that’s lost its bone.”

Irksome woman. Her description of him mirrored his own gloomy thoughts, which made her remark sting all the more.

“I came back to Hannah because I was assigned to this realm,” he said through his teeth. “The presence and number of djegrali in this place are most peculiar. Conall thought reinforcements necessary.”

“Oh, yeah?” Addy raised her brows. “And I suppose you just
happened
to be out at Peterson’s this morning when Evie got into trouble?”

“That is correct.”

“Horse hockey.” Addy placed the drink glasses on a wooden tray. “You’ve been shadowing Evie for weeks. Not eating. Not sleeping. Standing by her bed at night like a creeper.”

“Who told you this?”

Addy gave him a sweet smile. “The fairies told Mr. Fluffy Fauntleroy, who told Dooley, who told
me
.”

Mr. Fluffy Fauntleroy was the ridiculous moniker Addy gave the fairy cat that had inexplicably attached itself to her. Dooley was her dog, her big, yellow
talking
dog. Ansgar made a mental note to have a word with both creatures.

“Don’t tell Evie about the fairies,” Addy said with a frown. “It would make her feel bad.”

“I would never do anything to hurt Evie.”

“Hate to break it to you, Blondy, but you already have. First you shot her in the chest. With. An. Arrow. Gotta tell you, I was majorly pissed about that one. But I calmed down a little once I realized you had to do it to save her from the demon. And you did heal her, I’ll give you that much. But then you left.
Pfft.
Just when I was starting to think you liked her.”

Liked her?
Liked her?
Was the woman mad? He
adored
Evangeline. Not that he would admit it to Addy. His feelings for Evangeline were no one else’s affair.

“I did not hurt her by leaving. She does not remember me.”

“Oh, yeah? Then how come she’s been walking around like something dead since you skedaddled out of here?”

Skedaddle.
It took Ansgar a moment to translate the strange term.
Skedaddle: to run away, as if in fright.

He stiffened in affront. “She is melancholy because she lost the sight. It is a great loss, but she will adjust, in time.”

“Sure, she misses not being able to see the little guys.” To Ansgar’s surprise, angry tears filled Addy’s eyes. “But that’s not why she’s so sad. You broke her heart, you big jerk. I know, because I felt the same way when Brand left me. Only, it’s worse for Evie ’cause she doesn’t
know
her heart is broken. There’s a big empty space where you used to be, but she has no idea why she feels so hollow inside. She’s bewildered and lost and hurt, and she doesn’t know
why
. You’re the only one who can help her, but you won’t. Oh, no, not you. You’re too busy being all noble, Mr. Big Bad Demon Hunter. For two cents I’d kick your ass all the way from here to Sunday.”

Addy picked up the tray and stomped out of the kitchen.

Chapter Three

“O
kay, Miss Douglass. One more time,” the sheriff said.

“After you found the victim, how’d you get home from the mill?”

“I told you. I don’t remember. I found Meredith’s body, and the next thing I know, I’m sitting on my front porch steps.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

The sheriff regarded her from the other side of the desk. He’d removed his sunglasses, and his gray eyes were unreadable. He was handsome, in a dark, lean, and dangerous way.

Men made Evie nervous. Handsome men made her practically catatonic. But Sheriff Whitsun was not just another pretty face. There was something about him, something watchful and tense. A wolf, Evie decided. If Sheriff Whitsun were an animal, he’d be a wolf. She had the uneasy feeling he could tell where she’d fudged on the details. Like how she got home.

Good grief, she was letting her imagination run away with her. It was because she was so tired.

Evie rubbed her forehead. Her head hurt, probably from lack of rest. It seemed like months since she’d had a decent night’s sleep. And when she did sleep, she dreamed. Disturbing, sensual dreams of a man’s hot mouth and hands moving over her body, arousing her, until she woke up panting with desire, the sheets twisted around her damp limbs.

Dreams that made her blush to remember them and that left her feeling antsy and unsatisfied.

Unsatisfied my hind foot,
a sly inner voice said.
They make you plain old horny
.

She shifted in the straight-back chair, embarrassed by the direction of her thoughts. Last night, she had trouble falling asleep. Lying in bed, she’d stared into the darkness, feeling sad and miserable and achingly lonely, with no idea
why
. It was hours later when she dozed off.

This morning, her alarm didn’t go off and she had overslept. Consequently, she’d rushed out of the house without eating breakfast. Now that she thought about it, she’d forgotten to eat supper last night, too.

She glanced at her watch. Almost two o’clock. She hoped Addy wasn’t still waiting for her. Addy wasn’t what you’d call long suffering, especially when she was hungry. And Addy was a three-meal-a-day kind of gal. She’d be gnawing the woodwork by now.

Evie sighed. Her patience was running thin as well. She’d been at the courthouse in Paulsberg since 8:30 this morning, sitting for hours in a stuffy back room while the sheriff and his men processed the murder scene. Paulsberg was the county seat, thirty miles from Hannah.

It had been past noon when the sheriff had arrived and escorted her to his office. She looked around. It wasn’t much of an improvement from the glorified broom closet she’d been waiting in. Whitsun’s office was small and cramped with a ground-level window that framed a scraggly boxwood on the other side. A battered desk, a dented filing cabinet, and a couple of chairs completed the furnishings. The walls were a dull gray and unadorned except for a University of Alabama football schedule. The surface of his desk was neat and uncluttered. They’d been at it more than an hour and were hashing over the details of her statement. For the third time. Sheriff Whitsun was nothing if not thorough.

He fiddled with a button on his handheld digital recorder. “You found Mrs. Peterson’s body in your office, and the next thing you remember is being back at your house. But you left your car at the mill. Did you walk home?”

“Yes . . . maybe.” She shook her head. If she told him the truth, he’d think she was crazy.
Um, well you see, Sheriff, I was rescued by an invisible man.
Correction, an invisible demon hunter. Oh, brother. They’d lock her up and throw away the key, if they didn’t put her in jail first for murder. She didn’t have to be a cop to know things looked bad. The evidence against her was circumstantial, but what if that was enough? Panic iced her veins. Oh, God, she would not do well in prison. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe someone gave you a ride to your house. Someone like . . . Trey Peterson, for example?”

“I told you. Trey . . . uh . . . I mean, Mr. Peterson, is out of town on business. I haven’t seen him since day before yesterday.”

“Trey? So you and Mr. Peterson are on a first-name basis.”

Evie clasped her hands together in her lap. “It’s a s-small town. We went to high school together. But I try to remember to call him Mr. Peterson at the office. It’s more professional.”

He looked down at his notes. “How long have you been the office manager at Peterson’s Mill?”

“I started working there last October, so a year this month.”

“And what is your relationship with Mr. Peterson outside the office?”

Evie felt a small surge of irritation. “Like I told you before, Trey and I don’t have a relationship outside the office, unless you count singing together in the choir at the Episcopal church.”

Whoa, that was borderline sassy, totally unlike her usually meek, mild self. She must be channeling Addy.

“But Meredith Peterson thought you were sleeping with her husband. You say she accused you of it.”

“At the flower shop,” Evie said. “In front of a bunch of people. But nobody believed it.”

The sheriff sat back in his chair. “Why not? You’re a beautiful woman, Miss Douglass. But I’m sure you know that.”

Beautiful? Evie flushed. Was he making fun of her? Before she could decide, an animal growled in warning.

Startled, she looked around. “Good gracious, what was that?”

“Probably a dog outside in the bushes.”

Evie eyed the pitiful bush through the window, unconvinced. “It didn’t sound like it was coming from outside. It sounded like it was in the room with us.”

“Unless you have an invisible dog, it’s just you and me, Miss Douglass. So, let me get this straight. You’re not having an affair with Trey Peterson?”

“No. I’m not having an affair with Trey Peterson or anybody else.”

“Then why are you lying about how you got home?”

Evie stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“I can smell a lie, Miss Douglass. It’s a talent of mine. You’ve told me the truth about everything except how you got home. For some reason, you’re lying about that. Who are you protecting? Is it Trey Peterson?”

He was a wolf, all right; a sharp-eyed wolf with a nose for prevarication.

“Got yourself a built-in lie detector, huh?” she said. “That must come in handy in your line of work.”

“It helps. Now why don’t you answer my question so we can both get something to eat? Who are you trying to protect?”

Evie sighed. “Me. If I tell you the truth, you’ll think I’m crazy.”

“Try me. How’d you get home?”

Evie closed her eyes, dreading his reaction. “I was teleported by a demon hunter.”