Page 22 of Equalizer
“Was the shed locked?”
“Yes. The lock was picked. Whoever did it scratched it to hell in the process,” Steven replied. “Even if it was someone with the show, how did they get a man’s body off of the grounds without being seen? And how did a person who works for a traveling show know that there would be someone in town to give the body to?”
“How they moved him without being seen? That wouldn’t take a complicated spell. As for how they knew who wanted the body, I suspect the folks involved eyed the show coming to town and figured that with dangerous stunts, something was likely to go wrong. Your people go into town now and again, right? They could meet someone in a bar who made them an offer,” Owen said.
“Spells. Like magic?” Steven frowned.
“Yes.” Owen waited him out, wondering whether Steven would mock him or consider the possibility.
“And you believe that stuff works?”
“I know it does, if done right.” Owen paused. “Are Drew’s things still here—clothing, possessions?”
“Probably. I don’t imagine anyone’s cleaned out his bunk yet.”
“Can you take me to it? I might pick up something from his stuff.” Owen had never told Steven about his mediumship, but it hadn’t really had a reason to come up back in their Army days.
They were silent at first as they walked toward one of several large tents erected behind the fence that separated the public area from the staff section.
“How did you end up with the show?” Owen asked.
Steven shrugged. “When I mustered out, I didn’t really have a plan. But I was good with horses and guns. I went to see the show, and there was a poster looking for security guards. This was about five years ago. They hired me, and I came up through the ranks.
“It’s a decent living if you don’t mind moving around. Got used to that in the Army, and nobody shoots at me here.” Steven laughed. “The food is good, and people look out for each other. Except, apparently, when they don’t.” His expression darkened and Owen suspected it was at the thought of someone stealing Drew’s body.
From the noise in the center ring, Owen guessed that rehearsals were in full swing. That left the tents empty, which made Owen’s job less complicated.
“This is his bunk.” Steven stopped at a cot and trunk. “I went through his stuff looking for next-of-kin, but he either didn’t have any or didn’t want to stay in touch.”
Owen looked at the jumble of possessions in the open trunk. People with a traveling show knew how to pack light. The show provided their costumes, bedding, and basic kit. That left just personal clothing and items of sentimental value.
He turned to Steven. “I see ghosts, and sometimes I can get them to answer my questions. It wasn’t something I talked about in the Army, for obvious reasons. I’m better at it now than I was then. There’s a chance that Drew’s spirit is still here, and if he’s not too disoriented, he might be able to tell us who took his corpse.”
Steven’s eyes widened. “You can talk to ghosts? Like a fortune teller?”
Owen winced at the comparison. “Except for real. I work with a branch of the Secret Service where the supernatural is recognized. I’m going to try to talk to Drew, and I need you to keep me from being disturbed and not freak out. If you want to ask questions later, I’ll tell you what I can.”
Steven stared at him for a moment as if seeing him for the first time, and then he blew out a breath and nodded. “Okay. For old times’ sake. But this kind of thing is definitely out of my wheelhouse.”
“Thank you,” Owen said, relieved. He had been unsure whether Steven would help or throw him out.
Owen spotted a braided leather cord that looked like a bracelet and reached for it, braced for whatever resonance it might possess.
He saw a man in his late twenties with shaggy blond hair and a lost expression.
“Drew?”Owen asked silently.
The ghost startled.“Who are you? And where am I? Everything’s wrong. I was riding—and now I’m here. What’s going on?”
Owen’s heart went out to the man. The newly dead were often disoriented and, like Drew, often didn’t even realize they had passed.
“You were thrown from your horse and broke your neck. It happened fast. You’re dead,”Owen said as gently as he could.
“Dead? I can’t be dead. I have a show to do. I was supposed to meet a girl in town tonight.”
“I’m sorry,”Owen told him.“Do you know what happened to your body?”
“My body? I thought that was a bad dream. Oh, shit. Am I really dead?”
