After Moonrise: Possessed\Haunted (7 page)

“Nice story. Still don’t know why the hell that led you to
me.”

“Oh, that’s easy. After Moonrise and the whole Psy thing is
seriously cuckoo, and you’re the only tall, dark and handsome working
there.”

“Thank you. I think.” Then he tried not to dwell on the fact
that Aubrey described him as handsome. “So, that was time number one.”

“Obviously the murderer doesn’t want you involved in his
case.”

“Yeah, well, too late. Second time was at Swan Lake.” Raef
thought back, frowning. “I don’t remember her saying anything even vaguely
pertaining to her death, do you?”

“Actually, I do remember what she was saying because it seemed
harmless.” She moved her shoulders. “Sometimes I can tell she’s getting ready to
get ripped back. I mean, I know that she’s trying to tell me something.”

“Like today.”

“Exactly. But yesterday she was totally happy. All she was
doing was talking about the trees. She called them soldiers, wise and strong,
and said they must need a lot of care. And that was it. He took her away.”

Raef’s eyes widened. “I’m an idiot. She wasn’t talking about
trees—at least, not just about them. She had to have been giving us a clue about
the murderer for him to have jerked her away.” He sat up straighter. “Ah, shit.
She did it again today. She said when I stop looking at the forest and find the
tree I’ll get a piece of the puzzle.”

“Raef! Whoever killed her must have been working on the trees
at Swan Lake,” Lauren said.

“Puzzle piece found,” Raef said grimly. “And that tree-loving
bastard better watch the hell out.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

“So what you’re
saying is on July 15 there were no city tree trimmers at or around the
area of Swan Lake?” Raef was talking into his cell as he paced across his home
office.

“That’s correct, Mr. Raef, I see no record
of having sent our tree trimmers out to Midtown at all that day.”
The
city worker’s voice sounded like she was talking to him through a tin can. Hell,
with the City of Tulsa Works Department and their crappy budget, that might be
true. He glanced at Lauren where she sat at his computer. She looked up at him.
He shook his head, and she went back to concentrating on the computer. “Could
you double-check your records, ma’am?”

“Certainly. Hold please,”
she
said.

“I’m on hold. Again.” Raef growled and continued prowling
around his office. Finally the tin-can voice returned.

“Sir, I have checked and rechecked our
records for that day and the day before. All of our tree-trimming teams were
in the Reservoir Hill neighborhood on the fourteenth and the fifteenth of
July. I am sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

“Yeah, me, too, but thanks,” Raef said, disconnecting. “Struck
out,” he told Lauren.

“Well, I think I just hit a home run,” she said, excitement
raising her voice.

“How so?” He went to look over her shoulder at the Swan Lake
website she had up. She’d clicked into several of the pictures and was studying
them intently.

“First, I’ve quit thinking like a grieving sister and started
thinking like a landscaper. Those are elms.” Lauren pointed at the picture.
“Actually, almost all the larger trees lining the pond are elms.”

“Okay, why is that important?”

“Because of our weather patterns elms are especially
susceptible to Dutch elm disease. It can be devastating to them.”

“And?” Raef prompted.

“And the pretty neighborhood around Swan Lake wouldn’t stay
pretty if its biggest shade trees withered and died from a nasty, highly
contagious fungus. These trees are healthy—strong and soldierlike, as my sister
would say. That tells me Midtown has an arborist.”

“A what?”

“Tree doctor. This many elms, old and young, tell me they’ve
been well cared for. Hang on, if I remember correctly…” Her fingers flew across
the keyboard as she searched and clicked. “And I do! There’s an innovative
preventative treatment for Dutch elm disease that needs to be applied in the
spring and early summer.” She looked at him. “Mid-July would have been a perfect
second-application time.”

“I was calling the right department, but asking the wrong
question,” Raef said, but before he punched the city number again, Lauren’s
words had him pausing. “He has more souls trapped than just Aubrey’s. I can feel
them.”

“He’s a serial killer,” Raef said grimly. “I wonder how many
more
accidents
have happened to people in Tulsa in
the past year or so, and how many of them were close to other well-tended groves
of trees.” Raef hit the number to the After Moonrise office. “Preston, I need
you to get into the database and do a search for me. Deaths ruled as accidental
in the past year. I’ll need specifics on the death sites. Pay special attention
to details about the trees in the area—like, did the accident happen in Mohawk
Park or did someone fall down the stairs at the BOK Arena. I’m interested in the
trees, not the structures. Our killer has a connection to trees, might even be a
tree doctor. Got it?…Good. Call me back ASAP.” He disconnected and glanced at
Lauren.

Even though she was completely focused on the computer she must
have felt his look because Lauren said, “I’m already checking arborists in the
area. Call the city back.”

Raef did as he was told.

* * *

“S
O
,
THE
CITY
USES
three
arborists. Chris Melnore, out of Hardscape in Bixbie, Steve Elwood, who has his
own tree-trimming business in Broken Arrow, and Dr. Raymond Braggs, who is a
professor at TU.” Raef read from the list the public-works director had given
him. “All three have serviced Midtown. Murphy’s Law is working well, which means
the city had a major computer crash last week, so they don’t have a record of
which one of the three might have been to Swan Lake in July. They’re gonna check
and see if anyone kept any physical notes, but it’s doubtful that they’ll find
anything. It was back in July and this is October.”

“Can’t we just call the three men and ask if he was at Swan
Lake that day? We could pretend like we’re calling from the city for, uh, tax
records or something like that,” Lauren said.

“We could, but you see how jumpy the guy is already. He jerks
Aubrey outta here if she so much as mentions a damn tree. I don’t want him going
rabbit on me.”

“Then how do we figure out which one he is?” Lauren rubbed a
hand over her face and brushed back a strand of long blond hair.

She looks tired,
he thought.
Again. I have to remember that this is draining her along
with Aubrey.

“Well, we can’t do much until we get the list of accidental
deaths from my office. Then we’ll check out the death scene and see if there is
any link to a tree doc, and go from there.”

“Or we could print off pictures of each of the three guys and
when Aubrey manifests next see if she can point us to one of them.”

“You mean before she screams and gets torn into pieces and part
of you gets sucked away with her? No. How ’bout I try some old-fashioned
detective work instead.”

“Aubrey and I can handle it. We’ve been doing this for
months.”

“How much longer do you think you two have?” he asked bluntly,
his voice a lot colder than he meant it to be.

Her face lost the little color it had had. “I don’t know,” she
said listlessly. “I can’t tell because I don’t feel right—don’t feel
whole—without Aubrey. So a piece of me is missing whether I’m being drained by a
serial killer or not.”

“All right, then, let’s not push it.” He gentled his voice.
“You’re tired.”

“I’m always tired.”

“I’ll take you home. You can rest and I’ll call you as soon as
I have something.”

“Do you have to?”

Raef raised a brow at her. She looked away and he saw some
color in her cheeks. Before he could say anything she seemed to collect herself
and turned her eyes back to his. Their gazes met and held.

“I know you have a thing for Aubrey. That’s fine.” Lauren
looked away.

“That’s weird,” he said, wishing she’d meet his gaze again.
“She’s dead.”

“That’s fine,” she repeated as if he hadn’t spoken. “I don’t
want to stay because I want to have sex with you or anything like that.” When he
just stared at her, she added, “Not that you’re not an attractive man. You are.
Really. Obviously my sister thinks so, and she and I have similar tastes in
men.” She pushed a thick strand of blond hair from her face, looked up at him.
This time her cheeks were bright pink.

She was beautiful.

His throat felt dry. He cleared it. When she didn’t continue
speaking he prompted, “You and Aubrey liked the same guys?” Then he realized
what he’d said and he hastily added, “Not that I’m into twin sex fantasies or
anything too weird.”

“Define
too weird.
” Her eyes found
his again.

And damned if
his
cheeks didn’t
suddenly feel hot. “Well, after what happened last night between your sister and
me, I think my definition of
too weird
is
changing.”

Lauren’s smile was warm—so warm it made his skin tingle. She
gave a little laugh. “Okay, before this gets too crazy, let me start over. Raef,
I’d really appreciate it if you’d let me stay here until we find my sister’s
killer. I mean, if you don’t mind too much.”

“That might be days or weeks,” Raef said.

“It can’t be,” she said, no longer smiling or blushing.
“There’s no way Aubrey and I have that long.” She drew a long breath. “The truth
is that every time Aubrey gets ripped out of here and takes part of me with her,
I’m afraid I may never come back. For some reason you are able to get me back. I
don’t think you always will be able to, but for right now being around you makes
me feel as safe as I’m able to feel.”

Ah, shit, no!
he thought. What he
heard himself say was, “Fine. You can stay. But you get the couch.”

“That’s perfect. I like to go to sleep watching TV.”

“That shows a lack in your upbringing,” he said.

“To say the least.”

“What, rough time with nannies?” he asked sarcastically.

“Mother doesn’t believe in nannies. She didn’t have any. Mother
also doesn’t believe in children, especially not girl children. Sadly, she had
two of them. And our father never paid any attention because we weren’t a son.
Here’s a news flash—you don’t have to live in a trailer to be abused as a
child.”

“Hey, sorry. That was out of line of me,” he said, feeling like
a douche bag.

“Don’t worry about it. Almost everyone assumes Aub and I are
spoiled rich girls.” She shook her head wearily. “
Were,
I mean. She’s dead. I have to start remembering that.”

“All right, that’s enough. Let’s go.” Raef gestured for her to
come out from behind his desk.

“Are you making me leave?”

He hated the soft, scared tone of her voice. “No, I said you
could stay. I may be an ass, but I don’t break my word. What I’m making you do
is take a nap.”

She stopped halfway down the hall. “Seriously?”

“Naps are healthy. Again, this shows another lack in your
upbringing.”

“I can assure you that’s only the second of many,” she said,
following him to the wide leather couch that was already loaded with soft
pillows and a faux-fur throw. She plumped a pillow, kicked off her shoes and
curled up on her side, pulling the throw up to her neck. “You know, it really
does look like a girl lives here.”

“I didn’t realize pillows, a blanket and a few antiques and art
were gender specific.”

“Your pillows are baby-blue and cream, your throw is faux
leopard and your art is Erté. I have two words for you, and they’re
hyphenated—girl-like.”

She was looking at him through big blue eyes that were ringed
with shadow, her hair was already rumpled and she was all curled up in a ball
that he thought was so little he could almost pick her up and toss her into the
other room—but she had an impish smile and a lifted chin that said she’d dare
him to try.

Raef liked her. Really liked her.

He leaned down, clicked on the universal remote and handed it
to her. “Girl-like or not, I also have all the cable channels—in HD.”

“That’s not girl-like. That’s civilized.”

He chuckled all the way back to his office.

* * *

R
AEF
TRIED
TO
WORK
, but it was an exercise in frustration. He
searched the internet for everything he could find about the three tree doctors,
and then stared at their websites. Nothing stood out and screamed
psychic serial killer
about any of them. Melnore, a
white guy in his mid-thirties, was divorced and had a part-time kid, or at least
that’s what his Facebook page said. Elwood, another white guy, didn’t have a
Facebook page. His website had a fish with a cross in it and by his Photoshopped
picture he looked to be late thirties to early forties and in denial about
balding. “Great, a church boy. He’s gonna be fun to research.” According to the
TU faculty website, Braggs completed the white, middle-aged trifecta. He was
single and newly tenured at the university. His faculty picture was standard
conservative suit and tie. He looked professorially boring. His bio didn’t
mention any family. He needed a haircut, but besides that looked as harmless as
the other two. “Could be any or all of them.”

Raef pushed his chair back from his desk and rolled his
shoulders. He felt like shit. Not hungover anymore, but tired and woolly-headed.
He glanced at the computer clock—just after noon. Preston would be at lunch. He
wouldn’t call for at least the next hour or so.

“Combat nap time,” he told the air around him, then he padded
quietly down the hallway and stole a peek at Lauren. The TV was on, but turned
way down. The day had become overcast, and the room was dim, but he could see by
the light from the TV that her eyes were closed.
Good.
We’ll both be better off after forty winks.
Raef reclined onto his
wide bed, fully clothed, put his phone on Vibrate, slid it into his jeans pocket
and closed his eyes. Sleep came to him like it had since his days in the
military—fast and easy.

Which was exactly how he came awake, too, when the feeling
intruded on an excellent dream he was having about playing shortstop during the
World Series.

Hope! I know it’s ridiculous, impossible,
but I can feel hope.
Raef lay there for a moment, just soaking in the
emotion. God, it felt good. Better than pleasure. Better than joy.

And then he realized why he was feeling it.

Aubrey had to be here.

Quickly, quietly, he padded on sock feet to where he could look
into the living room. He’d been right. She was there, sitting on the couch
beside Lauren, who was awake. They were talking in low voices, their heads
tilted toward each other, and Raef was struck by how alike they were. It wasn’t
just how they looked. It was the way they moved—the way they both talked with
their hands. As he watched, Aubrey swept back a strand of diaphanous blond hair
that had floated over her face, just like Lauren had been doing all morning. She
said something Raef couldn’t hear, but it had Lauren giggling and then pressing
a hand over her mouth, as if she’d just laughed at something mischievous—
or raunchy,
Raef thought as he watched Lauren fan
herself like her face was suddenly hot.