people died in the same hospital where Aden and I were born. St. Mary’s.” At his look of confusion, she added, “Did I forget to mention Aden and I share a birthday?”
“Yes, but I already knew.”
“Anyway. A lot of those people died because of a bus accident. My mom died giving birth to me.” Her mom had been like Aden, a force of nature, able to do things “normal” people couldn’t, and infant Mary Ann had drained her dry. Don’t think about that, either, or you’ll, what? Cry. “Somewhere on that list are the three other souls that Aden inadvertently sucked inside his head.” Maybe, they thought, hoped.
“You’re sure? Maybe they died nearby, and their names aren’t there.”
“A possibility, I guess.” One she wouldn’t entertain at the moment. “Through my research, I’ve managed to cross off more than half the names already.”
“That seems excessive.”
Not really. “The remaining souls are male, so that automatically eliminated the females.”
Tucker arched a brow. “Unless they’re transgender souls. I mean, really. Aden seems like the type to host a pink panty party inside his—”
“Tucker.”
“What? He does. And his friend Shannon is as gay as—”
“Shut. Up. The males possess the same special abilities now that they possessed when they were alive. I know this because my mother did, too. So I’ve been going through the names, looking for stories about raising the dead, body possession and predicting death. Even the minutest hint.”
He thought for a moment. “Backtrack a little. Why exactly do you want to identify the souls?”
“Because they need to remember what their last wish was, and do it. Then, they’ll leave Aden and he’ll be stronger, able to concentrate and defend himself from Vlad.”
“You really think that will help?”
“What is this? Twenty questions? Hell, yes, I do.” She had to. Otherwise her friend’s chances were nil.
Once again Tucker was blinking down at her. “Mary Ann, you just cussed.”
“Hell isn’t a cuss word.”
“To me it is.”
“Why? Because you’re afraid of spending eternity there?”
Good humor, gone. “Something like that.”
He looked so sad, she actually felt bad for her waspishness. “Maybe, by the time this is over, I’ll have earned myself a spot right next to you. We can keep each other company while roasting.”
He barked out a laugh, as she’d hoped, but that earned them another glare from Hush Girl. He flipped HG off and said to Mary Ann, “You wish I’d spend eternity with you. So, you got any leads?”
“Before you interrupted me—” she paused, waiting for an apology, but of course he didn’t offer one “—I was reading a story about a mortician at the hospital. Dr. Daniel Smart. Apparently he was murdered there. Defense wounds on his arms and legs, as if he’d rolled into a ball to protect himself while someone—” or something “—bit and punched him.”
“Great story. But what does that have to do with Aden’s souls?”
“One of them can raise the dead. What if Dr. Smart raised a dead body in the morgue, and it killed him?”
“But wouldn’t he have raised a dead body before? And if he had, why would he have continued to work there? He would have been in constant danger, and his secret would have gotten out. But it didn’t, which means he didn’t.”
“Maybe he could control the ability.”
“Maybe he couldn’t.”
“I don’t care what you say,” she grumbled, hating that he was right. Again. “This is the best lead I’ve got.”
“Our definition for the word best differs. Still,” Tucker went on blithely, “it’s worth checking out.”
“I know.” How irritating! As if she needed his permission. “That’s next on my To Do list.”
“What about his parents?”
“Who, Smart’s?”
Tucker rolled his eyes. “No, moron. Aden’s.”
“What about them?” Their current address was burning a hole in her pocket. Finding them had been first on that To Do list she’d mentioned, in fact, and she’d already crossed it off with shocking ease. A search engine, a (stolen) credit card Tucker had given her, and boom. Results.
They were still local; the shame of abandoning their son, when they might have been the only people in the world who could truly help him, hadn’t driven them away. Were they happy with their decision? Regretful?
She’d debated: call Aden and tell him, or not call Aden? In the end, she’d opted for not. For the moment. He had a lot to deal with right now and if she met with the couple first—fine, spied on them—she could make a more informed decision.
“Close up for today,” Tucker said, drawing her back into the conversation, “and let’s find a place to sleep. We’ll head out for …” He paused, waiting.
“Smart’s wife is still here in Tulsa, close to St. Mary’s, the hospital where her husband used to work.” Tulsa, Oklahoma. Which was two hours away from Crossroads, Oklahoma. Two hours away from Riley.
Not that she’d imagined him driving that stretch of highway a thousand times.
“Good.” Tucker nodded. “Did you read the man’s obituary?”
“Yes.”
“Checked out his family?”
“As best as I could.” He’d left the wife behind, but no one else had been mentioned.
“And you have an exact address?”
“No. I thought I’d drive around until a golden ray of sunlight shined down from the heavens and spotlighted the house.”
“Sarcasm again. Not your best look.”
“Then stop asking dumb questions.”
He sighed, the last sane guy in existence. “We’ll drive there in the morning. Does that work for your timetable?” He didn’t give her a chance to respond. He stretched out his hand and waved at her. “Come on.”
With a sigh of her own, she placed her hand in his. As he stood, he pulled her to her feet. He helped her into her jacket and tugged her out of the microfiche area. Just before they walked into the main library, someone screamed. A girl. Hush Girl, maybe. Fearing the worst, Mary Ann tried to turn around and see what was going on. Tucker threw his arm around her shoulders
