Page 46 of Marked By Shadows

“Ms. Umbridge is very worried,” Alex said.

“And vocal,” the detective agreed.

“If something happened to her friends I can understand,” Alex said.

“True,” Manning said. “The two of you are staying the week?”

“Yes,” I said. “We are here for the textile convention, which starts tomorrow and runs through the weekend. I’m hoping to secure a few fabric lines for my craft shop.”

He nodded, seeming to think for a few minutes. He pulled out a card and handed it to Alex. “If you think of anything, see anything unusual, give me a call.”

“We will,” Alex agreed taking the card and putting it in his pocket. “We’re headed out to get food, but will be back later. Will your people need any help with the search?”

“We’ve already scoured the woods. They aren’t large enough to miss a lot. So at this time no. Not unless we get another lead to the state park or something. We are checking lots for the missing vehicle.”

“Let us know if you need help,” Alex said. “We are willing to search if necessary, even though we didn’t know her well. Her friend is very worried. I hope they just did something stupid and didn’t tell anyone where they were going.”

“You and me both, Mr. Caine,” the detective agreed and let us go.

I breathed a sigh of relief as we finally got into the car. My heart was pounding. “They think I did something to her?”

“They are just covering their bases. It makes sense. Talk to anyone who has a history with them. If you’ve had words with her before that would bring up red flags. Our own disappearances probably make us look suspicious too,” Alex said pulling on his seat belt. “Like we have a secret cult we are recruiting for. People who magically disappear and return without explanation.”

“I’d like out of that cult,” I muttered as I put the key in the ignition but didn’t turn the car on. “You know she’s dead.”

“Sort of,” Alex said.

“You saw her ghost. Do people who aren’t dead have ghosts?”

“Maybe? I mean, yes it looked like her. But maybe it was a trick? Like the thing that took me playing tricks?” He let out a long breath and pulled out his phone. “When I was in the hospital there were a couple people like that. Empty? Soul gone from their body. All that was left was a shell.”

Hospital. When Alex talked about the hospital it wasn’t his recent short stay after he’d been found. It was his time in the mental ward. “Like their soul had left and all that remained was their body?”

“Mostly,” Alex shrugged. “I once saw something in the hospital, next to one of those shells, a mass of sort of wriggling images. It was like it was trying to form a person, but couldn’t? Like the person was so broken even the soul couldn’t find its way back together. I don’t know how else to explain it.” He was quiet for another minute. “I never told anyone that before.”

And it made sense. Alex’s time in the hospital made him think he was crazy. Well, it began with that night in the desert, but expanded as he saw doctors and therapists who all assured him his mind was gone. Except it wasn’t. Alex, for the most part, was solid-footed and common sensed. It was the whole ‘seeing things others couldn’t’ that made people label him crazy. I wondered if that’s how all the prophets got started.

“You were afraid that would happen to you?” I asked. “Your soul would abandon your body and not be able to form anything solid?”

“We don’t know it didn’t happen,” Alex said quietly. “Maybe that’s why I was missing.”

Was that any less frightening an option than having him used as a puppet by some sort of unknown? Not really. “But you’re here now.”

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “But in the woods, after I saw what I think was Byrony, I saw something like that. One of those rippling masses of images. Like a puzzle with multiple faces and body parts all strewn together.” He shivered. “It was sort of monstrous.”

“More sad,” I pointed out, “especially if it’s someone who was mentally ill, or broken. Perhaps that’s what really defines the mentally ill. Sometimes their soul is scattered.”

“Scattered. That’s a kind word for it. I just don’t ever want to be that way.”

“Okay,” I said.

“It helps to share, I think. I don’t feel quite so crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy at all. At least not about the ghost thing.” I wasn’t sure what he saw, but knew he saw something. Like when my skin began to burn with that eerie sensation of spider webs or ants. Instinct on high gear? Something paranormal? I wasn’t sure there was a difference.

“Thanks for that, at least. I don’t think you’re crazy either.”

I laughed. “We’ll be crazy together. Ghost cats and whatever.”