Rocks & Gravel (Peri Jean Mace Ghost Thrillers Book 3) by Catie Rhodes Page A
Authors: Catie Rhodes
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storage facilities dotted around the city. Burns County, with an overall population of twenty thousand, had even more rent-by-the-month storage businesses. No way could I check them all. Even if I could, how would I get the owners to admit Joey rented a unit there?
I needed someone who had better resources to investigate this stuff. Rainey Bruce. She went through assistants faster than shit through a goose, and I worked for her at least a couple of days a month so she wouldn’t drown in mundane tasks. I’d heard her talk to a private investigator several times for help on a case.
I took out my cellphone and called her. She answered on the first ring.
“I’ve had an idea about who may have stolen your family’s property. Can you meet me to talk about it?”
“I’m closing the office for the day. Fifteen minutes at my house?”
4
I told Rainey about the day’s events in her huge living room, trying not to stain her pristine white couch. At points in my monologue she closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. Mostly she shook her head.
“I hate to leave you and Hannah Kessler alone together. The two of you are like a pair of dumb, teenage girls.” She pushed herself off the couch and glided across to her open air dining room and picked up a brown leather messenger bag probably worth more than anything I owned.
I curled my toes into the chocolate colored carpet, Rainy having insisted I leave my nasty shoes outside. She glanced at my sock encased feet, shook her head again, and set the messenger bag on her coffee table. The scratches and drink rings on the expensive surface suggested she worked here often.
“What you want me to look into is illegal without a search warrant, and one of those would require probable cause. Of which we have none.” She tapped her long fingers on the closed laptop. “Plus, if we do find he has a storage unit, who goes in?”
I opened my mouth to speak.
“Don’t say anything. Forget I asked.” She took her cellphone out of the messenger bag and placed it on the coffee table where she could see it. “I think the legal risk involved in this idea is not worth the possible gain.”
“But—”
“Let me finish. I think you are stalling, trying to keep from, honestly, facing who and what you are.”
“You’re right,” I said. “So what?”
Rainey stared at me for too long. Then she leaned forward and pointed one of her blood red, inch long fingernails at me, her gaze never leaving mine. “Those journals belong to my family, and I intend to have them back. You, as my friend, could help me. There’s your ‘so what.’”
“I’m trying to help. There’s a good chance Joey might have the journals.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier for you to contact the ghost we saw on the video and find out?”
I sighed and considered asking if it would be easier for me to wring her neck. “It’s not like those mediums you see on TV solving crimes. I get flashes, images, sometimes a short vision. It’s not like the ghost is going to say anything to me.” I left out the part where the ghost appeared in the backseat of my car, begging for my help.
“What about the thing around your neck? Eddie mentioned it had powerful magic.” She pointed at the black opal. I took it off and handed it to her. She hesitated before she took it but smiled as soon as it touched her hand. “This reminds me of a tour I took once in New Orleans, an occult tour. We went to this museum right in the Quarter and looked at voodoo artifacts. Some of them emanated power. This is the same. Why don’t you wear it more often?”
I squirmed a little. “Dean asked me not to because when I wear it, I see more stuff, and more of it tries to interact with me.”
“Is this resistance to helping us coming from Dean? Like an issue between the two of you?” Rainey crooked an eyebrow.
“I don’t want this, either.” I gestured at my head, where I guessed the power came from. I could tell by the way Rainey mashed her
I needed someone who had better resources to investigate this stuff. Rainey Bruce. She went through assistants faster than shit through a goose, and I worked for her at least a couple of days a month so she wouldn’t drown in mundane tasks. I’d heard her talk to a private investigator several times for help on a case.
I took out my cellphone and called her. She answered on the first ring.
“I’ve had an idea about who may have stolen your family’s property. Can you meet me to talk about it?”
“I’m closing the office for the day. Fifteen minutes at my house?”
4
I told Rainey about the day’s events in her huge living room, trying not to stain her pristine white couch. At points in my monologue she closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. Mostly she shook her head.
“I hate to leave you and Hannah Kessler alone together. The two of you are like a pair of dumb, teenage girls.” She pushed herself off the couch and glided across to her open air dining room and picked up a brown leather messenger bag probably worth more than anything I owned.
I curled my toes into the chocolate colored carpet, Rainy having insisted I leave my nasty shoes outside. She glanced at my sock encased feet, shook her head again, and set the messenger bag on her coffee table. The scratches and drink rings on the expensive surface suggested she worked here often.
“What you want me to look into is illegal without a search warrant, and one of those would require probable cause. Of which we have none.” She tapped her long fingers on the closed laptop. “Plus, if we do find he has a storage unit, who goes in?”
I opened my mouth to speak.
“Don’t say anything. Forget I asked.” She took her cellphone out of the messenger bag and placed it on the coffee table where she could see it. “I think the legal risk involved in this idea is not worth the possible gain.”
“But—”
“Let me finish. I think you are stalling, trying to keep from, honestly, facing who and what you are.”
“You’re right,” I said. “So what?”
Rainey stared at me for too long. Then she leaned forward and pointed one of her blood red, inch long fingernails at me, her gaze never leaving mine. “Those journals belong to my family, and I intend to have them back. You, as my friend, could help me. There’s your ‘so what.’”
“I’m trying to help. There’s a good chance Joey might have the journals.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier for you to contact the ghost we saw on the video and find out?”
I sighed and considered asking if it would be easier for me to wring her neck. “It’s not like those mediums you see on TV solving crimes. I get flashes, images, sometimes a short vision. It’s not like the ghost is going to say anything to me.” I left out the part where the ghost appeared in the backseat of my car, begging for my help.
“What about the thing around your neck? Eddie mentioned it had powerful magic.” She pointed at the black opal. I took it off and handed it to her. She hesitated before she took it but smiled as soon as it touched her hand. “This reminds me of a tour I took once in New Orleans, an occult tour. We went to this museum right in the Quarter and looked at voodoo artifacts. Some of them emanated power. This is the same. Why don’t you wear it more often?”
I squirmed a little. “Dean asked me not to because when I wear it, I see more stuff, and more of it tries to interact with me.”
“Is this resistance to helping us coming from Dean? Like an issue between the two of you?” Rainey crooked an eyebrow.
“I don’t want this, either.” I gestured at my head, where I guessed the power came from. I could tell by the way Rainey mashed her
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