What are his motives, though?
I’m not making any decisions until I figure them out. Trust nothing and no one. That’s been my motto for so long, I’m not sure it’s possible to change.
Celeste strokes the back of the final card, still facing down. “Are you ready for the last one?”
I give her a go-ahead gesture, but if I’m being honest with myself, I’m not ready. Not at all.
As soon as she flips it, I bolt to my feet.
“Really?” I shake my head, staring down at the face of Death.
“Hush, girl. You know enough to know this card isn’t what most people think. Sit down and breathe.”
I drop into the chair and stare at the knight riding a horse, carrying a banner with a rose. “The end of something is coming,” I say, almost without thought.
“That’s right, chère. But the new beginning is going to be even brighter. Look at the patterns here. Look at what you’ve been through. There’s no doubt you’ve struggled. You’ve survived. You’ve carved out a life for yourself. You’re a woman of true strength and power. But you can’t do this all alone. Life isn’t meant to be a solitary endeavor. You’ve never had an equal partner who could balance you.”
I choke out a laugh at that absolute truth, but Celeste continues.
“You’ve always been fixated on control and power, chère. Sometimes you have to release your grip and let the universe work in its mysterious ways.”
I practically gulp down my next breath. “Release my grip? Really?”
Her turbaned head nods. “Almost as terrifying as death, isn’t it?”
“Something like that,” I whisper, my attention still on the mounted knight. When Celeste’s bony fingers reach out to clear the cards away, I stop her with an outstretched hand. “Wait.”
She meets my gaze, and I gather the courage I didn’t expect I’d need sitting at her table today.
“Yes?”
“How do I know if I can trust him?”
Her thin lips curve into a secretive smile. “Let him show you.”
Eighteen
Moses
I’m sweaty as fuck, but I always feel better after a good workout. Stronger. Sharper. More determined.
I drop my gym bag on the floor next to the table where Trey’s computer is set up. He’s not in front of it, however, and the screen is black.
“Trey! You find him yet?” I shout to the empty space.
His disembodied voice comes from a few rooms over. “Hold on, I’m taking a shit. Give me two minutes.”
“Eager to put this one to bed, man?” Jules asks from the kitchen as he tosses the remains of his protein shake into the trash. “You know it takes time.”
Crossing my arms, I argue. “Time? If someone stabbed your woman and she had to fucking kill him to protect herself, wouldn’t you want to know everything? Would you be wasting time?”
“Maybe if I knew for certain she was my woman.”
Jules and I have gone toe-to-toe dozens of times over the years, but he knows damn well what my intentions are.
Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him. “You expect me to work miracles in one day?”
He grins, not at all cowed by a scowl that would make other men piss themselves. “You? Fuck yes. I know what you’re capable of.”
Instead of being annoyed, I laugh. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Hell, I’ll go one step further, boss. I might even change my vote on dinner. I think she might show.”
Considering he’d said no way in hell before our workout, I jerk my head back in surprise. “No shit?”
Jules shrugs. “I don’t know why. I’ve just got this feeling.”
I managed to put the thoughts of dinner out of my mind during our workout, but they’re back at the forefront now.
I want to believe she’ll show up. I want to trust she’s at least curious enough about what I might have to say and why I’m back. But Magnolia Maison has never been the predictable type. She’s as Machiavellian as I am. She’s got angles and motives most people would never guess—just like me. I want to clear away all the bullshit between us and lay it all out. No games. No lies. Just the truth.
“Let’s hope you’re right,” I tell Jules as Trey opens the door of the bathroom, wiping his hands on his shorts.
“That john might need a priest.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Jesus Christ, man. Really?”
He waves a hand in the air as he makes his way over. “Maybe I should try your beet juice, because that shit was pure evil. Now, let me tell you what I found out while you two meatheads were pumping iron.”
I straighten. “You got a name?”
Trey shakes his head. “Nope.”
“Then what do you have?”
Trey returns to his seat, taps a few keys on the laptop, and spins it around to face me. “Not a fucking thing. He’s a ghost.”
I bend over to look at the screen. “What am I looking at then?”
“Prints that aren’t in any system. ID in his wallet was fake. Facial rec search is still going, but I’m telling you—this guy doesn’t exist.”
“What the fuck,” I say quietly. “You mean . . .” I glance up at Trey to find him nodding.
“Yeah. It’s like we made him disappear and covered all our tracks like the pros we fucking are, but we didn’t do this.” He scratches the back of his neck and crosses his arms.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jules says as he lumbers from the kitchen. “You’re saying someone else erased him?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Trey meets my eyes, his gaze dead serious. “Whoever this guy was, he didn’t want to be found. Which, in my estimation, makes him a hell of a lot more interesting than he was last night.”
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.
Of course this can’t be simple. Nothing to do with Magnolia ever is.
I tap the tabletop and then point at Trey. “Keep digging. There’s gotta be something. You know all the places people usually fuck up when they wipe someone. No one is as good as you, Trey. No one. Figure out who the fuck he is. That’s the only way we’re going to find out why he went after her and if there’s more coming.”
Jules’s expression is somber, but for good reason. We all know the consequences of digging up graves, fake or not. The dead don’t like being found. And the living dead will kill to prevent it.
“I don’t have a good feeling about this, man. Not at all.”
At least our instincts are still working on the same wavelength. “Yeah, me neither.”
Nineteen
Magnolia
The reading left me shaken. There’s no doubt about it. I was also left with a hell of a lot more questions than answers.
And the one at the top of my mind? Do I meet Moses tonight or not?
Celeste’s words follow me as I amble back to my new place. “Let him show you.”
Easier said than done, because letting someone show you requires trust in its own right—and trust is one of the only luxuries my lifestyle hasn’t afforded me.