Spirit and Dust - By Rosemary Clement-Moore Page 0,7

at her desk and rifled through her stuff without a whiff of reaction from the spirit world. Remnants really don’t like you messing with their stuff.

And someone had definitely messed with Alexis’s things. Too bad the dorm didn’t have a resident ghost, like the houses at Hogwarts. Then I could just ask it what the thieves were after.

Taylor voiced another question I’d been contemplating. “So, still no word on a ransom demand?”

Logan glanced at one of his detectives, who shook his head. “Her father says there hasn’t been any call.”

“Maybe he’s lying,” I offered. “You know, like they do in the movies, when the kidnapper says, ‘Don’t call the cops.’ ”

“This isn’t a movie, Peanut,” said Gerard, not bothering to hide his scorn. “It’s a serious criminal investigation. Why don’t you sit quietly until we have something else for you to Ouija or whatever it is you do?”

I didn’t think it was possible for my head to hurt any worse, but a hot pulse of humiliated anger proved me wrong. “I don’t Ouija things, Agent Gerard. I read the remnants of energy that linger after death. Especially violent and unexpected death.”

“Not that it was any help here,” he said. “What was all that black dog business? Was she kidnapped to be raised by wolves?”

“Spirits get confused. You might be confused, too, if your brains got scrambled by a bullet.”

“That’s enough, you two,” snapped Taylor, and as awful as it was to have Gerard dismiss me like a kid, it was ten times worse having Taylor scold me like one.

“Daisy brought up a valid point,” Taylor continued, not that I still didn’t want to crawl into the deflated remains of the beanbag chair and die. “If anyone would think he could handle this solo, it’s Devlin Maguire. He has reason not to want the police poking into his business.”

“Maybe he knows the person behind this,” said Gerard. “Criminal roads from all over the country run back to him, but no one has been able to sew up the connection. Maybe the girl’s kidnapping is our chance.”

An awkward silence rocked everyone back on their heels a moment. Then Taylor, with soft-voiced intensity, said, “There’s a girl’s life at stake. The important thing is finding her.”

He did not say “It’s not about your career, asshole.” At least, not aloud. I’m not sure I’d have had that kind of willpower.

“Of course,” said Gerard, with cover-my-ass bluster. He turned to Logan. “We’ll leave your office to finish the investigation on the murder here, and Taylor and I will hook up with the Minneapolis field office on this kidnapping. Even if Maguire won’t cooperate, we can talk to him, put a tap on his phone.…”

Taylor listened with his jaw twitching, but didn’t contradict his partner, just added, “I think they’ve already requested a warrant for that.”

“Then we should get a move on,” said Gerard.

Finally, we agreed on something.

The clock was ticking, and not just for Alexis. My window of usefulness was closing. Sugar and caffeine had pushed back the nausea and the crimson haze of my headache, but I figured I had thirty, maybe forty minutes of coherence before the migraine stomped me flat.

4

WE EXITED THE dormitory and a camera flash drove a spike into my eye.

My knees buckled as the headache blossomed to full force. Taylor caught me under one arm and Gerard under the other, hustling me through a small crowd of reporters bristling with cameras, microrecorders, and questions.

“Are you the agents in charge?”

“Any leads on who killed Dev Maguire’s henchman?”

“Or the whereabouts of Miss Maguire or her body?”

“Does Mr. Maguire know you’ve hired a psychic to find his daughter?”

Taylor took up the rear guard, offering them nothing but “No comment at this time” while his partner shoved me into the backseat of the black SUV waiting by the curb.

“Effing reporters,” growled Gerard as he slammed my door. He might as well have been slamming it on my head.

“How the hell did they find out about her?” the agent demanded, once he and Taylor had climbed into the front and closed out the reporters.

“Pretty coed goes missing?” said Taylor, buckling his seat belt. “It was going to splash, even without a whale like Maguire involved.”

“No. I mean her.” Gerard stabbed his thumb toward me, sitting innocently in the backseat, trying not to be sick.

“Chill.” Taylor sounded like he’d reached the end of his patience about five snarky comments ago, and I was glad those hadn’t come from me. “It’s not her fault college students