“You know what this calls for?”

“Appletinis?”

“Apple pie.”

I laughed softly. “Even better.”

13

A dyslexic man walks into a bra…

—T-SHIRT

Cookie dropped me off at my apartment. I had to feed the fur ball before heading back to the café to use Dixie’s computer. The only electronics I had were an old television that weighed as much as I did and a DVD player that got too hot after about forty-five minutes, at which time I had to stop the movie to let it cool down. Sadly, neither got the Internet.

I walked into my apartment and was immediately attacked by a furry gray cat and a gorgeous, though departed, Rottweiler. They were getting along famously. Who knew cats could see the departed?

After hanging up Reyes’s jacket and turning up the heat, I offered Irma a high five to no avail, went to the kitchen, and poured goat’s milk into a saucer for Satan’s feline offspring. Just the way I knew so many other things in my life, I knew not to give her regular, store-bought milk. I knew how to work a DVD player. Turn on a clothes dryer. Cook macaroni and cheese. Everyday things were second nature. My life, however, was not. It made no sense.

I was up to the T’s now, so I combed through some of those as Satana ate.

Tamara? No.

Tasha? No.

Teresa? No.

I continued through as many T’s as I could think of while Artemis tugged on Irma’s muumuu and I cleaned the kitchen. It needed a good scrubbing. Then again, so did I. But when I walked into the bathroom, I stopped short.

Something wasn’t right. Someone had been there.

Last night, while freezing in the backseat of Mable’s Fiesta, I’d realized that my landlord could’ve been the one who came in and changed the light bulb. So that could be easily explained. But this time my things had been moved in the bathroom. I always kept my toothpaste in the drawer to my right, but it was on the counter. The one bottle of perfume I had, which I kept in the right corner, was now by the sink.

Little things like that tended to set me on edge. I drew in a deep breath and tried to come up with a feasible explanation. It couldn’t have been Ian. I’d taken the key. Then again, who knew how many he’d had made? Or maybe he had a tool to pick locks. Cops sometimes did. Still, my landlord could have come in and worked on the sink. It’d been draining slowly. Did he work on it and have to move my stuff in the process?

I tried not to get too worked up. There could be any number of reasons why my things were out of place. Heck, even Satana could have jumped up and… what? Spritzed on a little perfume? Brushed her teeth? Next she would be using my dental floss. Admittedly, it probably wasn’t her.

Either way, enough worrying. Enough playing the scared victim of a potential stalker. I just had to be smart. Pay attention to my environment. Stick to well-lit areas. Hire a round-the-clock bodyguard. I’d have to look in the yellow pages for a discount bodyguard service.

I took a shower with the bathroom door locked and a chair shoved under the knob. It felt wonderful. The shower. Not the chair. Artemis chased streams of water. Satana meowed and complained about being locked inside after she was the one who insisted on coming in. Who had to smell every object in the room for two minutes before moving on to the next.

I wondered about calling the number Bobert had placed in my palm. I’d have to do it from the café, but I was going back anyway. Should I risk it? Did I have a right to? Clearly Mr. V didn’t want me to get involved, but he was in danger. Frustration coursed through me.

After putting on fresh clothes, I checked all the windows to make sure they were locked, grabbed Reyes’s jacket, and headed out the door.

“Be back soon,” I said to Artemis and Satana. “Do not bother Irma. I mean it. You two play nice.”

I ran the doggy bag I’d brought home from the restaurant over to James, then walked back to Mable’s house. I hadn’t planned on borrowing her car again, but it was so cold and I was so tired after spending hours in it the night before that I changed my mind.

Unfortunately, she was already in bed. I still had a key to the car, but I would never take it without her permission.

“Well,” I said to the little girl who’d been following me ever since Cookie and I had left the Rockefeller mansion. She had a tangle of blond hair hanging down her back and wore pajamas with Strawberry Shortcake on them. “I guess we’re walking.”

She cradled a doll to her chest and petted its bald head, her eyes wide as she studied me. I figured she’d talk when she was ready. Sadly, it didn’t take her long to get ready.

“Jessica said you lost your marbles.” She stayed about five feet back as though to give me a wide berth.

I looked over my shoulder. “She said that, did she?”

“Yes. But I’ve looked everywhere. I can’t find them.”

“Darn it. Thanks for trying,” I said with a chuckle. My breath fogged around me in the crisp night. I made sure to walk on the side where the streetlamps were and kept a close eye on traffic. The fancy black car I’d thought was following me the day before sat parked just ahead. Like the little girl, I gave it a wide berth. As I passed, however, I realized it was a Rolls.

Why would an immaculate Rolls-Royce be parked in this area?

“It’s okay,” the little girl said. “Jessica told me I have to think of others, too. So I do. I think how dumb they are or how ugly their shoes are or how they don’t brush their teeth enough. Can I brush your hair?”

“Maybe later.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her she probably couldn’t hold a brush, being dead and all. “Where’s Jessica now?”

“At Rocket’s place.”

Rocket? I stopped and turned around, my chest cavity oozing with hope. “Is Jessica about yea tall with red hair?”

“Mm-hm.”

My visitor from the storeroom. The one who was swallowed by the black smoke that might or might not have been Reyes Farrow. She’d been the only one who seemed to know who I was. If Reyes did silence her before she could tell me anything, then he would have a lot of explaining to do.

“Is she okay?”

“I guess. Where are you going?”

“Back to work for a bit. Can you go get her?”

“No. She won’t come here anymore.”

I stepped closer. “Why not?”

She stepped back. “He told her not to.”

“Who did? Reyes?”

Her nose crinkled. “Ew, no. I don’t think you should give food to that man anymore. He lives in a box and he stinks.”

“Okay, well, first of all, that’s not very nice.”

“His smell is not very nice.”

“And second, who told her not to come here?”

She blinked at me as though trying to understand the question, so I tried again.

“Do you remember who told her that? Did she tell you?”

She just stared ahead, her expression suddenly blank.

“Are you having a seizure?” I asked, coming up with no better explanation.

Her gaze slid past me, her eyes growing bigger by the second.

A heavy dose of dread crept up my spine. “Is there something behind me?”

She nodded and took another step back.

“Does it have wings and a sword?”