Secret Worlds (157 page)

“Wait, does that mean you figured out how to turn intangible?”

He stuck his hand out to touch the bus sign. It passed right through like magic. “Yep.”

I nearly slapped my forehead. “You could have told me that earlier.”

“You didn’t—”

“If you say ‘you didn’t ask,’ I am going to call that exorcist.”

Michael closed his mouth and merely smirked. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

“Hey, Jordan!”

A female voice called to me from across the street. I spotted the girl from Guitar Center, Chloe, waving me over from near the front of the line. I checked for cars and then jogged over to her with a surprised smile.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

She waved a hand at the club. “I came here to meet up with some friends. Are you still looking for Michael?”

“Yeah. I called the number you gave me but he didn’t pick up.”

Chloe frowned a bit. “Sorry to hear that. Do you want to come inside and see the band? I know at least two of them are here tonight. Maybe they know where he is.”

“Yeah, that seems likely,” I replied, indicating the huge line behind her.

Chloe flashed me a crafty grin. “You’re with me. Don’t worry about it.”

I watched with shock as she tugged me in next to her and waved to the bouncers. Their stony expressions softened and they nodded for us to go in. When I turned to ask her how the hell she’d done that, she told me she had been the baby sitter for each guy’s kids on weekends. Small world.

Inside, the club was deceptively large. The stage at the far wall had a band of six going in full swing, swallowing me in thrumming music as soon as I stepped through the door. The main room was separated into two parts: the immense dance floor packed with bodies and a surrounding area of booths where waiters were serving food. Chloe led the way up the stairs to the left. Michael trailed behind us, watching with wonderment as people passed right through him without noticing. I sort of envied normal people sometimes.

We approached one of the booths near the bar on our left where I recognized two of Michael’s bandmates: the brunette with white streaks in her hair and the black guy with the faux-hawk.

“Hey, guys! Having a good time?” Chloe asked with a bright smile.

The short brunette groaned, leaning forward in her seat to shout over the music. “I would if they had a better band on stage. These guys are amateurs with a capital A.”

The black guy shook his head at her. “Give ‘em a break, Casey. Everybody’s gotta start somewhere.”

She shrugged, arching a thin eyebrow at me. “Who’s the new girl?”

“This is Jordan. She’s looking for Michael.”

Casey snorted. “Aren’t we all? I can’t believe he up and left right after we had such a good premiere. Here, sit down.”

She scooted over and patted the open spot to her right. I sat and Chloe took a seat opposite me by the black guy. He stuck out a hand, smiling. I took it.

“Name’s Stan. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” I replied, impressed by how friendly they all were. Michael may have been annoying, but he kept good company. Speaking of whom, Michael stood beside my side of the booth so he could keep up with the conversation. A waiter wandered by, asking for drink orders, but I declined. I knew for a fact how expensive alcohol was at popular clubs in the city. Besides, no sense in drinking while I was “working.” Casey and Stan ordered beers while Chloe stuck with a tried-and-true Vodka soda. I wracked my brain for inconspicuous ways of asking what happened to Michael in the last few days.

“Does he always disappear like that from time to time?”

Stan waggled his hand in the “kind of” motion. “He sucks at communication. Sometimes I’ll go three days without talking to him and then he’ll call me the next day to chat for four hours.”

“Same here. I haven’t been able to keep up with him since I met him,” Casey admitted, absently folding a paper napkin into triangular shapes.

“Why are you looking for him anyway? He’s not in trouble, is he?” Stan pressed, adopting a somewhat wary look. Good instincts. Crap.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I found something of his that I thought might be important to him. It’s an old watch with his name on it. I would have brought it with me but I was worried it would get stolen in this crowd.”

“Oh. I was starting to think you were a reporter,” Stan said in a sheepish voice.

“Or a cop. Especially because of this,” Casey pointed to the duster.

I managed a faint smile. “Yeah, I guess I do sort of look like a cop in this getup. Sorry if I made you suspicious.”

Chloe waved the comment away. “Trust me, we’re honestly shocked there aren’t any warrants out on him.”

Behind me, Michael snorted. “I’m loving the solidarity.”

I cleared my throat to hide a laugh. “So you guys don’t think he’s in any trouble?”

“No more than usual. Last time I heard from him was after Thursday’s performance when he left to head home. He always slips out the back door right after we finish so he can beat the crowd to the bus.”

A red flag went up in my mind. This club happened to spill out into an alleyway that was dark, damp, and far away from the street. That would mean few to no witnesses for our potential killer. I hid the interest with a passive nod and made a mental note to check there as soon as I could get away from the group. I hoped that would be soon because the longer I sat here, the more horrible I felt that these guys didn’t know their friend was dead. It wasn’t like I could tell them his spirit was hovering not a foot away from the table. Besides that, there was no absolute proof. Not yet, anyway.

The waiter returned with the drinks, asking for food orders. Chloe ordered some wings but the other two declined since they’d eaten before they got to the club.

“Hey, where’s the bathroom?” I asked Casey.

She pointed past my head to the right of the stage. “Go by the stage and hang a right. Good luck, though. The line’s a bitch this time of night.”

“Thanks. I’ll be back. It was nice meeting you guys. Thanks for your help.” They all waved as I retreated through the crowd. The bathroom was my cover. I’d only needed an excuse to sneak out of the club and didn’t have a pack of cigarettes to use as a ploy. Michael and I passed the insanely long line to the Ladies Room and found one of the exits that spilled into the alleyway. Luckily, it hadn’t been a fire exit so an alarm didn’t go off. I stepped out into the dark and noticed that there wasn’t a knob to let us back in. Smart. Didn’t want anyone sneaking into the club without paying. I found an empty cigarette pack on the floor and wedged it in the door. If we got lucky, we could check the area before one of the bouncers noticed.

“What are we looking for? It’s been a couple days since I would have been here.” Michael watched me examine every inch of the concrete around us. The alley stretched a good ten feet and then turned into a right. Behind me, there was faint noise from the street, but its view was obscured by a large dumpster.

“True, but unless you were killed by an expert, they may have left some kind of evidence.” I slipped on a pair of purple surgical gloves that I kept with me specifically for snooping purposes and flipped on my flashlight. The Exit sign above the door shed an eerie red light over the area but that was about it. Aside from the dumpster a few feet away, there was a trio of trashcans against the wall opposite the exit. Great. My favorite part of the job.

Breathing as sparingly as possible, I peeked into the trash and carefully sifted through, looking for traces of blood or anything that may have been on Michael’s body when he left the club. Michael started to join me but I stopped him.

“What? It’ll go faster this way.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Michael, if someone happens to look this way, they’re going to see trash floating in mid-air. That’s not very inconspicuous.”

“Neither is a hot chick in a grey overcoat with purple gloves sifting through garbage,” he said, his voice flat. Damn. The man had a point.

“Just help me look around. And don’t touch anything.”

“Why?”

“Because shut up.”

Sighing, Michael walked past me to inspect the bits of garbage that hadn’t made it into the cans. I searched the three containers and found nothing out of the ordinary, which made me groan internally because that meant I’d probably have to check the dumpster. Did I like this guy enough to get that horrible smell in my clothes? No. Would I do it anyway? Maybe.

With a regretful moan in my throat, I stepped towards the dumpster, but stopped as my foot kicked something metallic into my line of sight. I stooped and picked it up, examining it in the dim light. A broken silver chain with a tiny padlock on it.

“Michael, come here for a second.”

When he walked over, I held the necklace up to him. They matched perfectly. Hot damn.

“I’d say this is a clue,” I muttered, inspecting the edges to detect any traces of blood. None. Still, this was definitely proof that something had gone down in this alley.

“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” Michael said with half-hearted sarcasm, too busy staring at the chain to commit to sounding dry. “I’m guessing it snapped off in the struggle. Maybe I fell.”

“Yeah. Judging by the fact that there’s no blood around, I’d say whoever attacked you either broke one of your bones or used something quiet to take you out, like a syringe. The question is still why, though. As far as I can tell, you’re not an incredibly important person.”

He gave me a look. I winced. “No offense. I mean, your band is doing well but it’s not doing
that
well. I’m starting to worry that we need to involve the police. There are some questions I can’t go around asking without raising suspicion. You saw how your band mates reacted when I did.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I wish I could say everything’s rushing back to me, but I’m only getting a feeling that I really did die here. Someone said something to me, and when I turned around, it happened. I just can’t remember
what
, though.”

“Don’t stress too much about that. The point is to find out about your life and why you died. When we do that, your final wish should become clear. Come on. We’ll do one final check and then go back inside. Your band mates might be getting curious.”

We walked up and down the alley, as well as the one next to it that led to a dead end, but there wasn’t anything else. Afterward, I carefully placed the necklace in my pocket and threw the gloves away. I poked my head into the door of the club. Nobody. Lucky us.

Quickly I removed the empty cigarette pack and slunk back towards the main area of the club with Michael behind me. The girls in line to the bathroom gave me funny looks but I brushed past them, heading for the booth.

Chloe had gone off meeting her other friends, as Casey told me. Shame. I wanted to thank her again for getting me in. I left my number with Casey and Stanley and said good night, happy once we were out of the flashing lights and pounding music. We reached the bus stop, which was thankfully devoid of other people, and Michael exhaled slowly, glancing at me.

“So what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“I have to take Linda to her funeral to speak to her Mom. I think that’s her final wish. We might get lucky. If I get her to cross over, Gabriel will show up and maybe I can ask him for help. He’s not allowed to directly help me solve cases by order of the Big Guy, but he can offer advice.”

Michael shook his head. “What’s that like, having an archangel drop by every once in a while?”

I shrugged. “It was nerve-wracking at first, but…I eventually got used to it. Gabriel’s really easy to get along with. He’s probably the closest thing I have to family. I guess being God’s Messenger has something to do with that.”

“Are you allowed to ask him questions about Heaven and Hell and stuff?”

“Sort of. There are rules. He told me he’s not allowed to tell me anything that would reveal the ‘true nature’ of God or Heaven because I’m supposed to find out on my own when I die.”

“So I take it you tried asking him about Mr. N?”

I lowered my eyes, forcing myself not to wince. “Yeah, but he said that’s on the list of things I’m not allowed to ask him. He told me I don’t understand now, but it’s for a good purpose.”

He made a soft, scornful noise in the back of his throat. “Can’t be that good of a purpose if it means you have to have nightmares every night for the rest of your life.”

That sounded like honest-to-God sympathy. I couldn’t help but glance up at him. He met my eyes with a solemn look that made my breath catch for a second. There was something strangely compelling about his face when he stared back at me like that. It was a quality I had recognized in someone else, too. Gabriel.

His voice was quiet. “The bus is here.”

I faced forward to see the rusty vehicle in front of us. Just like that, the spell broke and I climbed aboard, shaking off my thoughts.

“Ms. Catalina Amador, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to come with us.”

My mother’s shoulders tensed in response to the man’s statement. I stood behind her, blinking up curiously at the scene before me. My mother had opened the apartment door with the latch still on it and through the crack I could see a man in a suit with two men in blue uniforms on either side of him.

At five years old, I had no clue who they were or why they were at our home. I tugged on my mother’s skirt, whining, “Mama? Who is it?”

She pushed me away from their sight. When she spoke, her voice was harsh with anger. “I know what I saw, Dr. Merriweather. There is nothing you and your facility can do. There are powers in this world beyond your comprehension and they are the ones who have come for me today, not you.”

The doctor sighed. “Ms. Amador, we are trying to help you. We don’t want you to endanger yourself or your daughter—”

“My daughter is fine, you son of a bitch!” She spat, making me jump. I had never heard her speak like that. Her accent made her words burn like flames against my skin. Tears welled up in my eyes so I buried my face in her leg, trying to hug her.