In the House of the Wicked

CHAPTER SIX

Remy opened his wings in the backyard of the building where Ashley and a friend from high school had rented an apartment. He wanted to be certain that no one was home before going in and poking around.

He glanced toward the driveway and saw that the space reserved for the first-floor tenants was empty. All clear. He closed his eyes, summoned his wings again, and took himself into the apartment.

The familiar smell of put-together furniture permeated the air as he unfurled his wings in the living room. He had taken Ashley to IKEA, just south of Boston in Stoughton, to get bookcases for her apartment, and had helped her put them together the day she’d moved up here.

His eyes scanned the room, looking for anything unusual. The area still had that unfinished look to it, with boxes stacked up against the wall.

Remy walked into the kitchen. A dirty frying pan filled with soapy water rested on one of the stove burners. The tiny kitchen table held several opened boxes of sugary cereals. He already knew about Ashley’s obsession with Apple Jacks, and gathered from the boxes of Honey Smacks and Cap’n Crunch that her roommate had similar tastes.

He drifted down the short, dark hallway toward the bedrooms. Ashley’s was the first on the right. The door was partially closed and Remy reached out, pushing it open with a creak. The shades were drawn, but there was enough natural light shining through that he could see perfectly well. He was surprised to find Ashley’s bed made and the room tidy, having been privy to a few of her mother’s rants about what a slob she was. Maybe she was turning over a new leaf now that she was out on her own.

Ashley’s desk was what interested him now. He pulled out the wooden chair and sat down, turning on her laptop. As he waited for it to boot up, he looked over the surface of the desk. On the corner was a framed picture of Marlowe, and he felt a lump start to form in his throat.

Where did you go, Ash?

He found a notepad with some names and addresses written on it and jotted them down on a pad he took from his jacket pocket. He had no idea if they were significant, but wanted to leave no stones unturned.

The computer was ready, but just as he was attempting to get into Ashley’s e-mail account, the sound of a car door closing stopped him. He went to the window overlooking the driveway and saw a short, dark-haired young woman heading toward the door. Ashley’s roommate was home, and it probably wouldn’t have been good for her to find Remy inside.

He summoned his wings again, closed his eyes, and was back outside in a rush of air. Then, after waiting a moment, he climbed the front steps and knocked.

The girl appeared at the door, pulling aside a sheer curtain to peer cautiously out at him.

“Hi. Melissa, isn’t it?” Remy said loud enough to be heard through the glass. “We met a few weeks ago. I’m Ashley’s friend,” he reminded her.

It took a minute or two, but finally Remy saw recognition dawn in Melissa’s eyes, and she turned the lock.

“Ashley’s missing,” were the first words she said as she opened the door.

“I know,” Remy answered. “But I’d like to talk to you for a minute, if that’s all right.”

“I’ve already talked to the police…both of them, campus and regular.”

“I’m sure you have,” Remy agreed. “I have just a few questions of my own. I’m a private investigator and figured I’d do some poking around myself.”

“Right,” she said. “Ash told me about that.” Melissa opened the door wider and motioned Remy inside.

“Thanks. When was the last time you saw Ashley?” Remy asked, as she closed the door behind him and then led the way to the living room.

“About four days ago. I was driving back to Melrose for the weekend, but she was staying here. She was hanging around, working on her computer.”

“Do you know what she was doing?”

Melissa shrugged. “Checking e-mail and stuff, I guess. I know she’d been looking for a part-time job and was making a list of places in the downtown area to try.”

The mystery of the list was solved.

“Had she been on any interviews?” Remy asked.

“No, she was just getting together a list of places to apply. I think she was planning on starting to fill out applications last Friday, after classes…that last day I saw her.”

“Did she talk about meeting anybody?” Remy chanced. “A new acquaintance…a guy, maybe?”

Melissa smiled sadly and shook her head. “No…That was one of the last things we talked about. We both thought we were gonna meet all these cute guys up here, but we’ve been so busy, we haven’t even had a chance to notice anybody, never mind meet anyone.”

Tears began to fill her eyes and she looked down at her feet.

“You’ve been a great help,” Remy said quickly, trying to take the attention away from her emotion.

“Thanks.” She sniffed loudly and ran the back of her hand under her nose. “Are you really a detective?” she asked.

“Yeah, I really am,” Remy answered.

“Ash used to talk about you a lot,” Melissa continued. “She always said that if she flunked out of school, she was going back to Boston to work for you…be your assistant or secretary or something.”

Remy smiled. Ashley had never shown much interest in what he did. “Let’s hope she doesn’t flunk out.”

“Where do you think she is?” Melissa suddenly asked. “You don’t think somebody took her or anything like that, do you?”

It was obvious that the girl was frightened.

“I really don’t know,” Remy answered quietly. “But the police are looking into it, and so am I.”

“You’re gonna find her, right?”

“I’m certainly going to try.”

“She said you were, like, the best private eye in Boston,” Melissa said. “I guess now’s the time to prove it.”

Remy nodded slowly.

“You’re right,” he said. “Now is the time.”

Remy had already been to three of the addresses on Ashley’s list. She had indeed dropped off copies of her resume on Friday. Most of the people he’d spoken with had remembered her, and all said that economic times were tough and they had nothing for her. A few were curious as to why he was asking about her, and when he’d told them that she was missing, they suddenly had so much more to say-how polite she had been, what an impression she had made.

They all hoped that she was all right, and so did Remy.

The fourth address on the list was to the Junk Drawer, a consignment/antique store minus the snootiness. The aisles of shelves were stacked high with used books and National Geographic magazines, old toys, and dishes and glassware, and multiple racks were hung with vintage clothing. Madeline had loved stores like this, referring to them as a walk down memory lane, a place where the hunger for nostalgia could be fed.

A yellowed, original movie poster for The Magnificent Seven hung crookedly on a wall, and Remy considered asking the price. He knew the film to be one of Francis’ favorites, although he hadn’t seen his friend since that business with the Garden of Eden. Remy had thought him killed in the Hell realm of Tartarus, but Francis had lived, although he was definitely different. Something had happened to him, but Remy hadn’t been able to find out exactly what that was.

The Junk Drawer’s single proprietor was busy at the front of the store, discussing the value of some Star Wars action figures with a customer. As he waited, Remy caught the swish of a puffy brown tail as it quickly disappeared toward the back of the store.

Figuring there was no harm in trying, he walked to the back, where he found a few overstuffed couches, a set of rattan chairs, a glass-topped coffee table, and one extremely large Maine Coon cat nestled inside a wicker hamper atop a folded red blanket.

Remy stood very close to the basket and looked down at the cat, whose eyes remained tightly shut.

“Hey,” Remy addressed the animal.

The cat did not respond in any way.

“Hey, I’m talking to you.” Remy poked the base of the hamper with the toe of his shoe.

The cat’s eyes shot open, staring intensely ahead, but not at him.

“Would you mind if I asked you a couple of questions?”

“Leave me,” the cat growled.

“Sorry to disturb you, but I really need to ask you a few questions,” Remy told the annoyed feline. “Then I promise I’ll leave you alone. All right?”

The cat slowly lifted its furry head to glare at Remy with eyes the color of jade.

“There was a girl in here a few days ago,” Remy began. “She came in to ask for a job, but I can’t imagine that she wouldn’t have seen you and tried to make friends.”

“No girl,” the cat said, closing its eyes.

Remy kicked the base of the hamper again.

“She would have been really nice, and probably would have scratched behind your ears and told you what a pretty cat you were, or something like that.”

The cat raised its furry bulk, arching its back with a hiss; then it paused, seeming to think about what Remy had just said.

“Nice girl,” the cat said after a moment. “Did scratch… felt good.”

The Maine Coon sat and turned its face up to him. “Yes,” it said.

“So you remember her?”

“Didn’t hear?”

“Yeah, I heard,” Remy said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice, reminding himself why he thought that most cats were assholes. “Do you remember if anything out of the ordinary happened while she was here? Anything that you might’ve noticed?”

“No,” the big cat said, standing up and moving in a circle as it prepared to again curl up on the blanket. “Scratched and stroked…then gone.”

“That was it?”

The cat didn’t answer as it snuggled back down and closed its eyes, finished with Remy. Well, he had said he would leave the cat alone if it answered his questions.

He was turning to leave when the cat’s voice stopped him.

“Strange man,” it said.

“Excuse me?” Remy turned back and peered down into the hamper.

The cat was looking up at him.

“Strange man in store,” the cat said. “Followed nice girl.”

“A strange man followed her out of the store?”

The cat made a face, as if something disturbed it.

“What do you mean by strange man?” Remy wanted to know. “What was strange?”

“Smell,” the cat explained.

And the cat’s ample fur puffed out on its body as if the threat was still there.

“Smell wrong.”

Remy grabbed a coffee from a pizza shop on the corner and stood at the window counter, gazing out at the people walking by on their daily grind. He imagined Ashley doing the same, moving from one store on her list to the next.

A strange man following.

He sipped the hot black coffee, letting it burn the inside of his mouth. He wanted to feel something other than the growing sense of dread in his belly.

The cat had said that the man smelled wrong-strange. Animals were extremely sensitive to the unusual, the bizarre, and Remy was forced to wonder if Ashley’s disappearance could have had something to do with him.

And what he actually was.

He’d tried as hard as he could to keep the more unusual aspects of his existence separate from his human life, but, as of late, it was becoming increasingly difficult. And what if someone- something — with a grudge against the angel Remiel had decided to get even by striking against those about whom he cared the most?

Remy drank from his cup again, scalding the inside of his mouth. He didn’t care for that thought, not one little bit. Briefly he imagined what he would do to anything or anyone that tried to hurt him through his friends. All he could see was fire; all he could hear was the screams of whoever or whatever might be stupid enough to dare.

The imaginary screams were suddenly drowned out by the sound of his phone ringing. He reached into his pocket and checked to see who it was.

Carol Berg.

“Carol?” Remy answered, feeling his body immediately tense.

“Remy,” she said. “They just called…the police…They found her car.”

His heart began to race faster and faster, and he thought it might explode.

“They found Ashley’s car.”