Page 66 of Dead Serious: Case 3 Mr Bruce Reyes
“I haven’t,” Harrison interrupts. “Been to the bookshop, I mean.”
“But I thought…” I frown. “That’s where I first ran into you, the day you dropped your business card.”
“I was just passing by,” he says, and I can’t quite read the look in his eyes before it’s gone. I don’t have time to question it, so I just move on.
“Okay. Well, the inside of the bookshop is usually full of spirits, absolutely packed to the rafters.”
“I imagine a congregation of spirits on that scale would cause a huge build-up of psychic energy,” Harrison replies thoughtfully.
“Right,” I say, pleased he gets it. “Anyway, the last two times we’ve been there, all the ghosts had disappeared, and the atmosphere felt really off. The air was heavy but at the same time empty, if you know what I mean.”
“The psychic energy had been drained?” Harrison guesses. “That would certainly give Chaos the ability to affect things physically in our world to a certain extent, even if he’s trapped on the other side.”
“That’s what I think he’s doing,” I agree.
“Wait a minute.” Dusty holds up a hand. “Back up, boo. What’s this got to do with your dad? Is he okay?”
I take a deep breath and fill them in. “He’s okay. I was at the care home with him an hour ago, and Danny’s still with him now. Lois, one of his carers, said he’s been acting up, seemingly scared for no reason and not sleeping. We were in his room and I saw this kind ofripin the air. It was black beyond the tear, but there were these tentacle things coming out from it, and the air in the room felt exactly like the bookshop did, kind of dead and empty.” I rub my forehead as if to loosen the tension that’s building. “Danny and I think he’s going after anyone that might be able to interfere with him coming through the portal. Keeping me occupied with my dad, forcing Bruce to deal with his death now his remains have been unearthed, and maybe being behind Danny’s accident.”
“That motherfu–”
“Okay.” Harrison cuts off her outraged exclamation before she can launch into a verbal tirade on my behalf, and I have to admit I admire Harrison’s nerve. Dusty does not like to be cut off. “What’s your plan?”
“Plan?” I repeat.
“Really, Red?” Dusty glares at him murderously, her tone scathing. “Does any of this”—she flips her hand back and forth between me and her—“scream,we have a plan?”
He lets out a slow breath and shakes his head. “I think you’d better come with me.” As he goes to move past me, I reach out and catch his arm, feeling the soft knit of his sweater beneath my fingers.
“Harrison, I need your help. I need to make sure my dad is safe. He’s so scared and he doesn’t understand what’s happening. He has advanced dementia, so I can’t take him away from his home, but I can’t leave him there.”
“Trust me, I know what to do,” Harrison replies, his tone gentler than usual. “We’ll protect him, I promise you.”
I let out a small, relieved breath.
“Come with me,” he says again. He heads toward a door markedStaff Onlythat’s to the left of the counter.
I hear Dusty’s heels clipping along behind me as we enter a large back room. Unlike Madame Viv’s, this one is neatly ordered. A desk on one side holds a laptop and stacks of organised paperwork. Racks and shelving line the walls, all containing ruthlessly ordered jars and bottles, each neatly labelled. Across the other side of the room is a huge wooden workbench stacked with more items, most of which look like neatly folded squares of hessian and muslin, as well as balls of string.
“Whoa.” Dusty eyes all the jars of various powders, liquids, and items I couldn’t even begin to identify. “Are you sure you’re not a serial killer, Prickles?”
“Keep calling me Prickles and you’ll find out.” His eyes narrow before turning his attention to me. “I’m going to start putting together something for your dad, but while I’m doing that, I have something you should have a look at.”
“Sounds dirty.” Dusty grins. “Just what exactly did you lure my boo into your back room for?”
Harrison rolls his eyes and crosses the room to the desk. “I’ve been researching the bookshop.”
“Oh, you’ve been helping?” I say in surprise.
He frowns at my question. “I said I would.”
“Yeah, but I thought you only said yes because Chan kinda steamrolled you into it.”
“She did. I still have the marks from the heels of her stilettos up my back,” he replies dryly, and Dusty gives a loud snort.
“So, what did you find?”
“Take a look.” He points to a chart laid out on the desk. “At first I tried to research portals and gateways to other dimensions or anything that mentioned passages to the spirit worlds and afterlife, but there’s unsurprisingly very little in the way of hard evidence and documentation, so I then started researching Bruce Reyes himself.”