Page 87 of Not Today, Satan
I drop my head. She’s right. Father’s number one priority is his own ego, and I’ve scarred it with my deceit.
The room darkens as clouds cover the sun outside the window. She walks to the desk and flips on the lamp, illuminating a pile of books beneath it.
I lunge across the room and pick up the top one, my heart picking up speed. I know this one. A man in a trench coat with a pipe and a magnifying glass is plastered on the cover,The Casebook of Sherlock Holmesetched beneath his feet.
Father had this book. I’d read a few of the stories before it randomly disappeared from the shelf one day. I’d even marked my place with black pen. I flip through the pages, and my eyes widen when I spot the familiar star in black ink in the top left corner at the start of the fifth story.
“Where did you get this?” I whisper.
She peers over my shoulder. “I’ve had it since I met your father. He got it for me from one of the bookstores I dragged him into on our first date. I thought I’d lost it, but one day it turned up again. That happens with a lot of my books, actually. I’m not good at keeping things in one place.”
I blink as the writing blurs and returns to focus.This was hers. They all were.
All this time I thought I’d been left down there with nothing of her beside me. He took these for himself, I’m certain, but he also unknowingly collected pieces of her for me.
A small wooden box falls at my feet with a thud as I shuffle through the books, and I pluck it from the carpet. “What’s this?”
“Jewelry.” She grabs the box from me and shoves it onto a shelf in the closet. “Your dad bought me all sorts of trinkets when we were dating. I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of them for some reason.”
Nate groans, and I drop the book I’ve just picked up and steal to his side to wipe his forehead with the damp cloth.This isn’t the time, Devica. No matter how much you want to know about your mom. And reading how Sherlock solves crimes isn’t going to fix anything.
My jaw drops. Unless…
My eyes dart over the peach rug beside the bed, and I chatter as fast as my thoughts appear. “What if Father can’t take Nate back because I prove his innocence? If someone else admits to the murder, Nate can’t be punished for it, right? That has to go against some sort of rule.”
“Dear”—she folds and unfolds the cloth in her lap—“that’s a lovely notion, but you’re seventeen. And new to Earth. You’re not exactly trained to solve homicides.”
Nate coughs, and a drop of blood trickles from the corner of his mouth. She dabs at it with the cloth.
I clench my stomach and glance at the floor. I’ll never get used to the sight of his blood. “I can’t sit here and do nothing. I won’t watch him die without at least trying.”
“You have your father’s stubbornness, that’s for sure.” My mother drops the cloth on Nate’s forehead and pulls me out of the room, closing the door softly behind us. “Let’s say you do this. Where would you start? I highly doubt the police will give you their files, even if you march in there and demand them.”
I tap my fingers against the wall. I never finished the Sherlock book, but all the stories followed the same pattern. And solving a murder can’t be that difficult if a fictional character can solve a bunch of them.
“I’ll start at the scene of the crime. Talk to what’s left of Nate’s foster family. He mentioned a brother. Maybe he’d have an idea who did this.”
Nate lets out a moan, and my mother peeks into the room before returning her gaze to me. “Do you know where he lives? I don’t think Nate’s in any condition to tell you.”
“It was on his file.”
“Tell me the address.” She grabs her keys from the kitchen counter. “I’ll take you.”
“No.” I cover her hand with mine. “I need someone here with him. I couldn’t bear for him to die alone…again. I’ll go by myself.”
“How do you plan to get there? You don’t have a license.”
I concentrate the same way she taught me earlier, and my wings appear in my peripheral vision. “I’ll fly.” She frowns, but I tighten my grip. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay high, where no one can see me.”
“Devica, it could be dangerous. If you’re right, that means there’s still a killer out there.”
I wave her concern away. “What are they gonna do to me? I’m immortal. I’ve dealt with worse.” My sword’s still around my waist, and I tap the hilt. “Plus, I’ll have this. I’ll be fine.”
She leans against the counter and sighs. “I’m not going to change your mind, am I?” She drops her keys and produces one of those rectangular devices everyone here seems to carry from her pocket. “I’ll pull up the directions on my phone. What’s the address?”
I rattle off the number and street name. She taps them onto a screen and shows me the destination before zooming out so that I can view the city like I’m flying over it. We trace my path from her house to Nate’s former home multiple times, and I burn it into my memory.
Her device would’ve come in handy in Hell. It’s a lot easier to plot a course on that than with the time-stained map hanging in the Welcome Hall.
