that fate picked the wrong person when it aimed its fickle finger at me.
The attack on Sorren’s Boston operation also bothered me. I knew he had other stores like Trifles and Folly all over the world, helping the Alliance keep people safe from dangerous magic and haunted objects. Beyond warning us to be careful, Sorren had said little. I could tell he was worried and guessed that he blamed himself for what had happened. Teag and I had done some digging online. According to the news, a gas leak had caused an explosion in the old store. The building was badly damaged, and the store’s two managers were in the hospital.
The Boston fire department hadn’t considered it suspicious. On the other hand, the fire department didn’t know about the Alliance, or the many supernatural enemies Sorren had made over the centuries. I tried to convince myself that bad things can happen without involving hell spawn. Gas leaks happen. But we didn’t believe the report, and I didn’t think Sorren did, either.
The weather coaxed me out of my worries. Fall is one of my favorite times of year in Charleston. The days, while still quite warm, were cooler than at the peak of the summer. While the gardens weren’t quite the riot of blooms they had been a few months earlier, pansies and mums had traded places with petunias and verbena. Evenings were pleasant, warm enough to be on the porch.
Valerie passed in one of Andrews Carriage Rides’ horse-drawn wagons. She had a full load of tourists, and she waved as she went by. I waved back. Lucky for us, tourism here doesn’t end with Labor Day. There are plenty of people who want to enjoy Charleston’s beautiful scenery and wonderful food when the climate is a little more moderate. I was beginning to hope that Maggie’s prediction of this being a good day might actually be on target.
I swung by Honeysuckle Café to pick up a pumpkin-spice latte on my way. Rick and Trina both greeted me with a hearty hello.
“Anything new?” I asked as I waited for Rick to fix the latte.
“You just missed a bunch of cops,” Rick replied, as the steam whistled into the cup of milk. “Some guy disappeared over at the Old Jail, or so his girlfriend says. Claims he headed down a flight of stairs and never got to the bottom.” He handed me the latte. “Weird, huh?”
I felt a chill run down my spine. Unlike the other disappearances Anthony had told us about, this one hadn’t been hushed up. “Yeah, kinda creepy,” I replied. “Figures it would happen at the Jail, doesn’t it?”
“I steer clear of that place,” Rick said. “Big with tourists. Never could understand why. That place, it’s bad news.”
I nodded in agreement, but I suspected my reasons were a little more concrete than Rick’s for avoiding a place that was a top tourist attraction. Charleston’s Old Jail had been the site of harsh judgment and human misery for a very long time, and deaths and suffering can permanently stain a building’s energy. That’s why so many locations that hit the ‘most haunted’ list tend to be abandoned hospitals, madhouses, battlefields, and penitentiaries. I’d also heard some of Sorren’s stories about the Old Jail, back when it still held prisoners and used its gallows. Just thinking about it made me touch the agate necklace around my throat for protection.
“Let me know if they find the guy,” I said as I paid for the coffee and headed out the door. But deep inside, I know that no matter how hard the police searched, they weren’t going to turn up anything.
My bad mood flooded back. You’re supposed to be protecting people in Charleston against the supernatural. Some job you’re doing. This is all your fault. I felt so overwhelmed with guilt that tears started and I blinked them back furiously.
Wait a minute! I argued with myself. No one said I was supposed to know everything. We’re working on it. We’ll figure it out. I managed to push the wave of guilt back so that it didn’t stop me in my tracks, but the awful feeling lingered that I had let everyone down. Maybe I need to go to the doctor. This isn’t like me. I’m a pretty realistic person, and I’ve seen stuff working for the Alliance that would send most cops running for the hills, but I work at staying relatively optimistic. I have my faults, but pessimism isn’t usually one of