Sapphire Nights (Crystal Magic Book 1)(55)

“I reported massive land theft and mortgage fraud. I reported it everywhere, to the FBI, to the banks involved, to the attorney general, to the governor. Occasionally, people listen, especially when one has a little money and influence.”

Walker ripped off half his sandwich with his teeth and chewed while he contemplated this declaration. He figured she’d used more than money to grease wheels. She’d had evidence. He washed the bread down with more water that had miraculously been refilled while he chewed. He glanced up to see Daisy walking around with a water pitcher. He could easily see how one could lose one’s mind up here. Distraction created illusion which led to more distraction. . .

Focus, Walker. “You don’t know which agency sent him?”

Land theft and mortgage fraud—that had to be the Kennedys. Cass had turned on her own family? He’d have one of his men find the files, once he knew where to look.

“No, as I said, I didn’t meet your father. If he was asking questions, he was very discreet about it. All I felt was his spirit when we tried to reach Zach. I’m so very sorry we didn’t try to communicate more. We weren’t quite as attentive back then.”

“You mean you were doing drugs and you heard voices,” Walker said dryly. He knew how that worked. His late wife hadn’t talked to spirits, just the characters in her head—until one of them told her to shoot herself and her family.

He had to let that pain go, keep his mind open. Accusing Cass accomplished nothing.

The old woman let his bitterness slide right off her. “Some of us did drugs, maybe, not all. I’m sorry you don’t believe the spirits are real, but someone suspects we talk with them. That’s why they burned a cross, although they misjudged the solstice in their ignorance. They were warding against evil.”

Here was a more relevant subject. Walker eyed Sam as he took a more polite bite of his sandwich. Sometimes, it was just easier to let women talk and sift through the rubble later.

“As I understand it, the Lucys performed an exorcism for Juan to speed him from this plane to the next,” Sam said carefully. “That’s what you saw with the bright light. Burning a cross completes a greater function, one that exorcizes witches.”

Walker’s first response was That’s crazy, but he didn’t say it aloud. “Or they wanted you to think that was the purpose, but their real intent was to hide their crimes or burn out the people who live up there.”

“Or all of the above,” Sam agreed, waiting expectantly for his reaction.

As he was learning, the world was full of crazies, but sometimes, they were right. “We need a different word for crazy,” he concluded. “There’s crazy that believes in spirits and there’s a worse kind of crazy that tries to set towns on fire.”

Cass smiled approvingly. “I think you’re starting to understand. We cannot call people crazy just because they think or behave or see things differently. For all I know, burning crosses works. As Sam says, experimentation is required.”

“A little hard to observe and test a hypothesis of evil.” Walker finished off his water. He didn’t want to leave without further questioning, but it was late, and he needed to get back. “You might have to burn a saint to see if you get a different result.”

Sam laughed. “Well, yes, killing someone is probably the dividing line between crazy and lucid.”

“Whoever burned that cross could just be sending a message to Menendez, which would put the Kennedys right up there as suspects with the Lucys. So unless someone walks in here reeking of kerosene, I think we’re back to scientific evidence.” Just in case he could persuade rationality out of the stubborn woman, he faced down Cass. “I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me about the massive land fraud?”

She delicately sipped her tea. “It’s old history, dear, over and done. It’s too late to do anything more.”

Yeah, that’s what he figured she’d say. He could still dig into archives. He stood up and left a stack of cash on the table, enough to cover Dinah’s costs for the firemen.

“I’ll tell her Carmen made a donation, shall I?” Sam asked mischievously.

She knew he could afford presidential suites. The rest of the town didn’t need to. “That could go a long way toward mending the rift,” he acknowledged. “Thanks.”

He knew no one would believe her lie, but he liked that she’d muddied the waters.

He needed to get back to cell phone reception so he could call his office. He had experts qualified in hunting down nearly twenty-year-old mortgage fraud cases.

The question remained, what did any of this have to do with Juan’s death and burning crosses?





Chapter 18





By midnight, only a small crew of firefighters kept an eye out for hotspots on the mountain. Sam’s head ached from the smoke and her feet ached from standing for hours, feeding those who came through and cleaning up after the café closed. She was too weary to miss Walker’s company. She walked up the hill to the studio, showered, and simply fell into bed.

Only to wake at dawn from a nightmare of dragons and soul-sucking demons and snakes that spoke with forked tongues. Forked tongues, right. Sam wearily wiped her eyes and glared at the clock. The Mexican blanket blocked most of the sun from her bed, but the main room was bright already. No fog today. She would never go back to sleep now.