Like my less savory contacts, these spells have a place in my tool-box, and if inducing a few weeks of narcolepsy in an innocent woman would help me stop someone who’s killing innocent women, then I didn’t see a problem with that. Trouble was, the spell, like most dark magic, required dark ingredients. Only grave dirt in this case, but I hadn’t brought any with me.

I was debating a search for the local cemetery when the cleaning woman came out for a smoke. That didn’t give me time to ransack the station, but I had another idea.

I hid in the shadows as she pulled out her lighter. Then I launched a teeny, tiny energy bolt. The lighter exploded. The woman dropped it, shaking her hand and staring down at the remains.

Muttering, she kicked the lighter into the grass, reached into her pocket, and pulled out a matchbook. As she opened it, I launched a drizzle spell. As water trickled down, she scowled up at the rain gutter and cursed Bruyn for not fixing the apparent holes. When she went to light her cigarette, her matches were damp and useless.

More curses as she stuffed the cigarettes back into her bag. Now came the big test. How badly did she need that smoke? I held my breath until she yanked out her car keys and stomped off to her vehicle.

When she was gone, I slipped into the station. I knew from my diner small talk that there was a security alarm, installed a few years ago after evidence—small amounts of drugs and money, then a gun-disappeared from lockup. I knew how to disarm most systems, but didn’t need to-the cleaner hadn’t turned it on.

I found the case file easily enough. I knew I had a limited amount of time before the woman returned, so I took only what I needed, bypassing the files Bruyn gave me and the crime-scene photos I got from Jesse. I copied the rest as fast as I could, then hurried out and was gone before the cleaning woman came back.

WHEN I GOT back to the motel, it was almost two. As tired as I was, I couldn’t sleep. I wasn’t used to being alone at night except at home.

There was a time when I couldn’t wait to leave home, but when I was finally old enough to move out, I didn’t. We had a big enough house. Paige and Lucas didn’t mind me being there. I pulled my weight with chores and I paid rent. I liked where I was. Liked it too much maybe.

My phone chirped. Paige, quietly sending a text to call her in the morning. I read it a few times, hearing her voice in my head and relaxing.

It helped. But not enough. I hit speed dial. It rang three times. Then Adam’s drowsy voice came on, yawning a hello.