Ghostsnaps (Knead to Know Book 4) (7 page)

Then again, maybe I had already met him. Boone had been completely honest, even when he didn’t know me or have any reason to be. And I liked him. I liked him
a lot
. But that didn’t take away from the fact that I had feelings for Phoenix too.

I closed my eyes, picturing Baker. “Sometimes I just really miss him.” I didn’t have to say his name. We both knew who I was talking about.

“Me too,” Holden said with a slight smile. “But when he’s himself again, if you tell him I said that, family or not, I will have you killed.”

I laughed and hugged him. He immediately stiffened beneath my arms. “Fair. Thank you. We might just get the hang of this family thing yet.”

He didn’t return my affection, but he didn’t pull away either.

“Hey, do me a favor,” I said as I released him. “Don’t tell Phoenix you know about us. I want to keep using you as a threat against him.”

Holden chuckled softly. “Have a good night, Maggie.” Then he vanished without giving me an answer. Typical.

The clock chimed, reminding me I had to get to the bakery. Grabbing my purse and jacket, I rushed out the door and headed back to Knead to Know, chewing on my lip. Not only did I have no idea what to tell Josephine, I also needed someone to cover for me at the bakery. And there was only one person who could do that. Though it was a lot to ask and he had every right to say no, especially after last night.

I called Phoenix on my way. The phone rang and rang and rang, and I thought he might not answer at all, but eventually he did. “Yes?” he said with a coolness I hadn’t heard before.

“I need you.”

“Maggie, we’re not going to do this. You wanted a break, fine. We’re taking a break. I’m busy. Maybe the psychic will fuck you.”

Crap. “I’m sorry. I know what I said, but this has nothing to do with that. That’s not what I meant. I don’t want to sleep with Boone or anyone else. We need to talk about a lot of things, just not right at this moment. It’s shitty to ask, but I need your help with something. Please?”

He was silent on the other end. “What?” he finally said.

“I’ll tell you at the bakery.” I crossed my fingers that he would agree. Over the phone it would be easier to say no. Standing in the kitchen, good smells everywhere, hopefully he’d be more willing.

“Fine, but I have a condition. You have to tell me exactly what happened last night to make you slam on the brakes.”

“Okay. See you in five minutes.”

Phoenix was waiting for me inside the bakery when I arrived—but without the slow, sultry smile he usually greeted me with. This time he watched me approach with his arms over his chest and unreadable eyes.

I tried to smile, but it felt ghastly so I stopped. “I’ve thought a lot about you today.”

Not even a flicker of life on his brooding face. “Likewise.” His fingers drummed against his arm as he waited for me to answer the question he posed over the phone. “Let me warn you, I will be able to feel when you lie.”

I hadn’t planned on lying. I just wasn’t exactly sure what the truth was. “I put on the brakes because of everything. Who you are, who I am, who I see myself becoming, the way I feel with you, the way you look at me, the way I want to know more about your life and be a bigger part of it, my past, your past, and the way you’re willing to kill someone without a second thought. It all scares me. I’m not naïve. I know the business you’re in can be dangerous. I know that had this person not come after you, you would have never bothered him, but that doesn’t keep it from bugging me. I have been…I can’t…” I shook my head. I didn’t have the right words. “I can’t do it again. I need to be able to trust you. I need to understand what’s happening. All of it. I don’t want to only know part of your life. But mostly, I’m just scared.”

“You’re frightened?” His voice was dark as midnight, sending waves of sensations down my spine. His eyes narrowed as I nodded. “Of me?”

I shook my head. “Of who I am when I am with you. It’s just something I’m going to have to figure out how to deal with.”

He took a deep breath. “What do you need help with?”

I pressed my lips together and looked down at the counter, focusing on making my list even though it felt like my heart was sliced open. “I need you to cover for me here.” I handed him the list. “This is what I need to make. I don’t know how long I will be away, but I could really use your help. If I’m not back by the time Izzy gets here, tell her I don’t feel well or something. I don’t know. I’ll try to be back in time.”

He didn’t even look at the paper he was holding. “You can’t be serious. You honestly think I’m going to drop everything and bake for you?”

“Please.” I looked up at him, lightly touching his hand. “I know it’s not fair to ask, but I need you. You’re the only one who can help me.”

“What are you doing?”

I only had minutes before Josephine would show up. There definitely wasn’t time to explain what I was going to do and he’d definitely have questions. “A girl I know is going to get shot. I just have to warn her. How long could it possibly take?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You can’t call?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Will you help?”

He nodded slowly, not looking at all happy. “But you will owe me and I intend to collect.”

“Okay, fine, whatever you want.” I kissed his cheek, then rushed out of the kitchen, straight for the mirror. I positioned myself in front of it, and a second later, music faintly drifted through the air. Waiting for Josephine to appear, I touched the mirror.

Just as I did, Phoenix stuck his head out of the kitchen. “Mag—”

But it was too late. I was already through, and Josephine all but dragged me to the other mirror where I followed her into 1923.

Her bright red lips spread into a reckless smile. “Well, I’ll be a rube. I thought for certain you were a dream, but I had to try again. Come. Sit. You must tell me everything. We haven’t a moment to spare. We have three hours, by my best estimate, before we need to get you home again.”

She took my hand and pulled me into the room I’d heard the gunfire come from in the ghostly vision I’d had at the house. It was a roomy office, with walls covered in rich mahogany shelves, overflowing with books and a strange assortment of items: everything from bones to colored glass bottles. Six different area rugs covered the hardwood floors, each as threadbare and worn as the next, but her furniture (three mismatched chairs grouped together and a sofa pushed off to one side) looked brand new. Beneath a narrow window sat a large desk, completely obscured by books and beakers and pages and pages of loose paper. If a good wind came through the room, all would be lost. Who was this woman?

She sat on the edge of a green velvet chair, closest to the dying fire, while I took a white and gold one on the other side. Leaning forward, she looked at me with lively copper eyes. “Simply marvelous,” she said under her breath, a hint of a smile still curling her lips. “I don’t even know where to start. I want to be scientific about this, but you’ve traveled through time just to talk to me.” She clasped her hands together and crossed her legs. “Tell me of the future.”

My mind completely blanked. How could I explain the future when her frame of reference was a time I only knew about from movies and a few novels? “I’m not actually here to tell you about the future. I can’t. We need to change as little as possible.”

Her eyes widened. “Of course. I hadn’t thought of that. You are absolutely correct. Don’t tell me anything. What I do need to figure out is exactly how our connection was made. I’ve been toying with time travel theories for years, and, honestly, I’m not sure what happened differently this time compared to the others that failed. There are some obvious factors: you have my mirror, the moon is full, and you are obviously a sensitive.”

That was an understatement. “Right, but there’s something I need to tell you.” Her eyes remained glazed and she kept talking as if I hadn’t said a word.

“Do you also live in Chicago?”

“Yes, but—”

“Excellent! Where?”

I gave her the address to the shop. “Josephine, I’m here because you’re going to be murdered,” I blurted out—then immediately regretted my tactlessness as her voice failed her.

Her eyes widened and her lips formed an “O.”

“I’m sorry,” I stuttered. “I just…I thought you should know. That’s why I came back here. You said I was a sensitive and that’s true in a sense. Sometimes I help people and I think that’s why you reached me. I’m supposed to warn you. I don’t think you’re supposed to die.” Boone was the real sensitive, but I guessed being at least half in the Abyss made me one too.

Josephine pressed a hand to her chest, her mouth gaping. “Well, I didn’t expect that.” She looked around the room like she was seeing it for the first time. Finally, she shook her head. “If we can’t change the past, why did you tell me?”

That was an excellent question—but Olivia had said to trust my instincts and my instincts were positive Josephine didn’t need to die. How I was going to stop it, however, I had no idea. “I don’t think you were supposed to die,” I repeated a bit dumbly, hoping desperately for a flash of inspiration.

“So you’ve said—but I did and the world went on without me. What happens if I stay? How many lives will that change?”

“I don’t know. But I have it on good authority that I can’t change someone’s destiny. So if you are destined to die, no matter what we do, you will.”

She recrossed her legs. “I don’t believe in destiny.”

I gave her a helpless gesture. “I just want to help.”

Josephine nodded. “When will it happen?”

“May 1st, just before ten.”

Her lower lip trembled as she looked down at her lap. “At the party?”

I nodded vigorously. “Yes. There is a party and it’s loud. No one will hear the gunshot and your sister will only later find the blood, when things are wrapping up, and your body is gone.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but Josephine looked even more horrified. Despite her liquid eyes, she straightened her shoulders. “Then we must do what we can and hope for the best. Who murders me?”

And this was the next problem. “Floyd Clifford was arrested and tried for your murder. He was found innocent due to insufficient evidence. The murder weapon and your body were never recovered. It is unsolved.”

She shook her head. “You’re all wet. Floyd Clifford couldn’t swat a wasp, let alone kill me. I’m his only friend. And he never even attends our parties. He’s very reclusive.”

I gave her a sympathetic smile. “He was there. I saw him myself. First, I heard the gunshot, then I saw him run from this room and out the front door.” I had also witnessed him leaving the room moments earlier, before the gunshot, but all the pieces didn’t fit together. Not yet.

“How did you see it?”

I didn’t want to get into the whole story. She was already traumatized enough for one night. “Sometimes I can see impressions of the past. When I was touring your house, I saw the party.”

Somewhere in the distance, the clock chimed. Her chin went up slightly. “Then you saw wrong. Floyd would never hurt me. Perhaps you misunderstood what you saw. Was he carrying my body?”

I shook my head.

“Did he have the murder weapon?”

“No, but—”

“There you have it. Had he shot me, he wouldn’t have run out. Not if the body and the murder weapon were not with him.” Her smile bordered on frantic. No one wanted to think their friend could kill them.

I took a deep breath. “He could have left them in the room, then returned when he realized no one else had heard the shot. But if you are right, that poses a whole new dilemma. We have no idea who did it, which means we have less than a month to figure out who wants you dead.”

“And how,” she said.

I wrinkled my nose. “We already know that.”

She looked confused for a second, then chuckled softly. “It’s an expression. What I meant was, I agree.” She rested her hands in her lap. “I guess nothing else really matters now besides this. Who would have thought I would have to catch my own killer?” She glanced at the clock and her eyebrows shot up. “Oh dear, time has gotten away from us. We need to settle how you can come back and forth.” She stood up and rummaged around her desk until she found a map. She spread it out and waved me over. “Okay, show me where you have the mirror.”

I ran my finger over the streets until I found the bakery. “I’m here.”

She grinned, tapping on the blue line. “It connects. Look, this is my house.” She touched the same line a couple inches away.

“Okay, what does that mean?”

“We share a ley line. Here, I have the mirror hung directly where I believe the ley cuts through the house. I bet you hit the same line.”

“Okay, so you’re saying it was an accident?”

“Well, not exactly. I believe the moon phase also plays a part, which could pose a problem. You were able to come through because the moon is full, but tonight is the last night for the phase. As it wanes our connection will lessen. The best I achieved before tonight was a foggy view of your world.”

“What about the music?”

“What music?” She shook her head. “Back to my point about the moon. If you go home tonight, you can’t come back for another month.”

Which would be too late. Shit. “Maybe we can still talk. We could write messages and show them through the mirror. Would that work?”

“It could.” She refolded the map. “And just in case we never see each other again, thank you for everything you’re doing. I won’t forget it.”

I wasn’t too worried. I knew I would make it back again, after all I saw myself at her party. “I’ll keep researching on my end, and we’ll talk again soon.”

The clock chimed again. “You need to get back.”

I followed Josephine to the mirror, feeling like I was abandoning her—and after just telling her she was going to die, no less.

Josephine stood in front of the mirror in her hallway. “I’m not scared.” She glanced back at me. “There’s time to figure everything out.” She tapped on the mirror, then tapped a little harder. She leaned in closer, then muttered, “Oh my, our connection was lost.”

“What?” I looked over her shoulder, but I couldn’t see the foggy area like I had been able to last night when she pulled me into the between. Now it was just her reflection. “Can’t you do your spell or whatever to open it up?”