side, bringing Dennis into view again. “What do you need?”
“Like crimes,” said Dennis.
“It wasn’t a crime,” Grif tried again. “It was a—”
“It was awful,” Dennis said sharply, his glare just as honed. He turned back to Kit as Grif clenched his jaw. “Worst I’ve ever seen. So I’m willing to trade. But I need names, dates, anything you can get from reporting sources.”
“You mean anything that might not have made it into print in the past,” Kit said thoughtfully, biting her lip.
“You got stuff like that?” he asked.
Kit thought of her aunt’s personal files at the paper and smiled. “And in return?”
“Interviews with Jeap’s immediate relatives, if he has any. Barring that, friends.”
“Doesn’t seem like he had any real friends,” Kit commented.
“Associates, then.”
“You want this in print?” she asked, as he ran a hand over his head.
“Anything you gotta do to shine a light on what happened in there. I want to find out who’s dealing this shit.” For a moment, his face crumpled. “His flesh was falling from his bones.”
“I want in with the coroner,” she said, while his defenses were still down.
Up they went again. “Kit . . .”
“Dennis,” she said, her voice carrying the same warning. But she was distinctly aware that he was holding all the cards here. Just as she was aware that Grif had yet to speak. That was just as worrisome.
Dennis finally sighed. “I should be able to swing it. But I’m calling in a big marker.”
“I’ll do the same,” she said, thinking of her aunt’s files again. “Then we’ll hit the major wires together and hit them hard.”
“Deal,” he said, and they high-fived to seal it.
“Damn,” Grif said under his breath.
“Stay by the phone.” Dennis threw a look behind his shoulder as an officer called him over, then began backing away. “I’ll call you as soon as I get a lead.”
Then he was gone, and she was left with Grif’s heavy silence spoiling the morning air. It was only marginally better than the stench inside the house, Kit thought, and set her jaw before looking at him.
“You know,” she told Grif, leaning against her car as he glared at her. “You could help me. Dust off your detective’s hat.”
“I don’t have a detective’s hat,” he snapped. “I have a hat that beeps.”
But Kit’s mind was made up, so she just ignored his anger and his glare, and glanced back at the abandoned home. “How the hell did that thing get inside Jeap?”
As annoyed as he was with her, Grif joined her against the car, and eventually slipped his arm around her waist. “The Pures can possess the bodies of those who are . . . closer to God’s mysteries than the rest of us. Usually very old or young.”
“Sometimes a sleepwalker?” she asked, recalling what he’d told her of his vision.
He nodded. “And sometimes those weakened by drugs. I guess the fallen angels can do the same.”
“I drink alcohol,” Kit pointed out, then looked at the cigarette burning low in her hand. “And I smoke.”
“Not to the point that you black out. Or allow the flesh to fall from your living body.”
She gave him a tight smile, but flicked the cigarette away anyway.
“Hey.” Grif shifted to cup Kit’s face in his palms and locked his gaze on her own. “You’re more alive than any person I know. And I swear on my life, I won’t let that thing near you again.”
It was exactly what she needed to hear. Blowing out a long breath, she leaned forward and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. For the first time since she woke in the middle of the night, she settled and smiled.
“Come on,” she said, opening the driver’s door. “We can’t do anything for Jeap until Dennis gets back to us with sources. Let’s roll.”
Grif just crossed his arms.
“We have an appointment this morning, remember?”
She held out for the length of his blank stare, then smiled when he finally jolted, and edged around the nose of the car. “That’s right. Mary Margaret.”
They’d finally tracked down Mary Margaret DiMartino, a woman Grif believed could provide information that would help him unearth who exactly had murdered him and Evie in 1960. Unfortunately, the past fifty years hadn’t been easy on Mary Margaret, which was why she’d been so hard to locate.
Still, Kit refrained from pointing out that he didn’t seem to mind her investigative bent when it came to his old mystery. Mostly because it was the greatest mystery of both of his lives.
But also