Page 82 of Ghost Walk
…And just so long as she paid.
Riveras really never changed.
“How about that useful, can’t miss investment tip I promised in exchange for the mothwart?” Grace had offered, when he started nagging her about money.
“Something fromthis century?” He’d challenged. “Knowing to buy ‘Microsoft stock’ in the 1980s does me a shitload of good.” He’d added some air quotes around the words. “And that’s the only kind of vague financial advice our relatives seem to know.”
“Fine.” She’d wracked her brain for something useful to tell him and then arched a brow. “I know! The cotton gin’s going to be huge in a few years. There. You’re welcome.”
“What’s a cotton gin? Some kinda booze?” He’d looked over at Jamie who’d shrugged.
Grace had disregarded their confusion, because she was on a schedule. “Now go away and let us work.” She’d told Loyal and he hadn’t argued.
Currently, he was upstairs, reading a Danielle Steele book that some time traveling relation had left behind. It was clearly more important to him than running the shop or Grace’s problems. It was no wonder the family was always broke. No Rivera had ever understood the concept of “business hours.” In the meantime, she and Jamie had taken over the entire shop, closing it for the day, while she worked on the investigation.
Also, it was a convenient place to hide from the angry citizens who no doubt still wanted her and Jamie dead.
“How can I focus when I donea even know what the bloody hell you’re doing?” Jamie hoisted himself up onto a tabletop, absently playing with some futuristic doohickey that looked a little like a glowing Slinky. Whenever that whatsit was from, it sure hadn’t been invented in the early twenty-first century. Grace wasn’t even going toaskwho’d given it to Loyal, because it would probably cause some rip in the space-time continuum for her to know. She’d seenBack to the Future, so she was taking no chances.
“I told you, I’m comparing fingerprints.” She’d tried explaining a sanitized version of everything, but it was still a lot of information for him to process, even omitting the “Hey, by the way, you die today!” spoiler. She glanced at Jamie, trying to get him to understand how vital it was that they catch the killernow.
It was July 4th. The day he was hanged. They didn’t have much time.
She cleared her throat. “When I came back this afternoon, I still had the shawl in my hand.”
“Aye and quite a lovely thing it is.” He wrinkled hisnose at the heap of stained lace on the table. “You say it’s Clara’s?”
“Yes. She’s going to wear it when she dies tonight. And you see this?” She pointed to the dried thumbprint on the edge of the cloth. “There’s only two people this could belong to: Clara and the guy who killed her. I got Clara and Ned’s fingerprints on the pendant for comparison. I’ve already excluded her as the source of the print, so now I’m trying to figure out if it’s Ned’s. It’s simple fingerprint analysis.”
Jamie squinted a bit. “Right. …And what’s fingerprint analysis again?”
Crap. Had that not been invented yet? No wonder he was so confused. “Don’t worry about it. I know what I’m doing.” She picked up a magnifying glass and went back to comparing the prints. “If I can prove Edward Hunnicutt’s the killer we can stop him and be out of here by tonight.”
“That does seem a grand idea.” Jamie admitted. “What if this ‘analysis’ proves he’snotthe killer?”
“Then our travel plans will be delayed.” And, unfortunately, that was exactly what happened.
Ned’s thumbprint didn’t match the killer’s.
Double crap. Grace got to her feet with a frustrated sigh. There went their best suspect. “Alright.” She ran a hand through her hair, trying to think. “It wasn’t Ned.”
Jamie rolled his eyes. “Can we kill him anyway?”
“Focus.” She repeated sternly. “The good news is, we still have the killer’s fingerprint. We can identify him, once we find him. The bad news is, we have to --you know--findhim.”
She checked the grandfather clock in the corner. It was situated in the exact same place two centuries from now. Sort of. In 2001, her cousin Desire accidently sent it into a neighboring dimension, but you could still hear it ticking away, year after year. God only knew how Serenity kept it wound. According to its always-accurate timekeeping, there were just six hours and counting until Jamie was hanged on the street.
Triple crap.
“You could use a spell to find him.” Jamie suggested.
“After the debacle with Aggie Northhandler?”
“That wasLoyal’smagic. Use your own, lass. I sense it inside of you. Just tap into it.”
Grace shook her head. “I only know two spells and one of them is for menstrual cramps.”
Jamie shot her the same fond look he always got when he was amused by her supposed “odd-ducky-ness” “What does the other spell do?”
