again.” With those words, Skye Washington vanished.
“I’ll be a son of a bitch,” Tennyson muttered to himself. Grabbing the diary and his notes, Ten headed downstairs. He knew Jude was still here. Ten was curious to hear what the two of them thought about his visitor.
“You’re not going to believe this.” Ten breezed into the kitchen. He set the diary and his notebook on the kitchen island and turned the electric kettle on.
“Did the diary give you any leads?” Jude asked. He went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water.
“I found one thing, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” Ten made his cup of tea and brought it back to the table. “I’ve never experienced anything like this in all the years I’ve had my gift.”
“What happened?” Ronan looked alarmed. “Are you okay? Is the baby?” He was halfway out of his seat before Ten raised a hand to stop him.
“I’m fine. Everly is too.” He wrapped his hands around his mug, enjoying the way it warmed them. “I was reading the journal, which is mostly filled with teenage drama, but when I reached the part where Skye starts writing about a boy she loves and wants to run away with, she appeared to me.”
Ronan’s mouth hung open. “That’s the strangest thing I’ve ever heard, and you’ve told me a lot of strange stories. She appeared just when you were getting to the good stuff? Was this boy her killer?”
Ten shook his head. “I don’t know. What’s worse is that I don’t know if she knows who killed her, and if she does know, she’s not talking.” Just saying the words aloud sounded crazy.
Jude’s eyes narrowed on Ten. “What you said doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know,” Ten agreed. He didn’t feel any better knowing Jude was confused by it too. “She told me her grandmother was waiting to escort her into the light, and she’s never looked back. Never checked in on her parents, and told me they need to get over their grief because she’s fine. Then she vanished.” Ten held his arms out. “Poof!”
“Usually you speaking with the victim clears things up, but this only muddies the waters even further.” Ronan shook his head. “Was the grandmother there to keep her from seeing who killed her? Was it a member of the family? Why is she so blasé about her family mourning for all these years? Why isn’t she angry that she was murdered? Or vengeful? Or begging for revenge?” Ronan looked truly stunned.
“I hate to say it, but I can’t answer any of those questions, or the rest of the ones swirling around my head. Before she winked out of existence, she told me she doesn’t want to see or speak to me again. How’s that for cold-hearted?” Ten felt off-balance in a way he never had before.
“Are you going to tell Skye’s parents about her visit?” Jude asked. He looked more concerned than anything else.
“No. I’m not going to say one word about it. We have plenty of work to do without going there yet.” Ten dreaded a scenario under which he’d be forced to tell Butch and Muriel their beloved daughter couldn’t give a fuck about them or their nearly forty years of pain over her loss.
“Go back to the boy you talked about.” Ronan tapped his pen against a blank page.
“All she said was that his name was Kyle. The part that caught my attention was what she wrote about running away with him. Skye didn’t have a bag or any money with her that night in the forest. This Kyle person could have been expecting her to turn up ready to go, and when she arrived empty-handed and said she wasn’t going with him, he killed her.”
“That’s where we’ll start in the morning,” Jude said, getting out of his seat. “One of us will try to find him, while the others try to get in touch with the siblings and the three best friends.”
Ronan nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll walk you to the door.”
Ten sat alone in the kitchen, trying to figure out what had gone so wrong with Skye’s spirit. There was one person who could help him figure this mess out. He’d get in touch with Bertha first thing tomorrow morning.
It was only day one of being on the Washington case, and Tennyson was already wishing it was over.
13
Ronan
Neither Ronan nor Tennyson got a good night’s sleep. Thankfully, Everly hadn’t been similarly affected by her parents’ troubles.
“Just like the