Chapter 16

A familiar rumble announced Carter's arrival as her truck purred into the parking lot of The Body Shop. It was dawn o'clock, but I hadn't been able to sleep, so I was in a pair of waders out back in the garden with Kierce and Josie when a honk summoned me. Just me. I had already arranged for Kierce to remain with Josie until I returned to avoid the potential for Harrow to act on his revenge fantasies.

"Girls these days." Josie, who wasn't about to pass up free labor and had risen early to make good use of us, clucked her tongue. "They can't even walk to the door to pick up their dates? Is chivalry truly dead?"

The announcement earned me Kierce's attention, and he dusted off his gloves before removing them.

"Do you like girls?" He shoved them in a rear jeans pocket, nudging his pants down a solid inch and revealing a strip of pale skin. "Do you like Carter?"

Had the crackle of energy sheathing his fingers not given him away, I might have believed it was an innocent question. Had I not already been in enough trouble from my last Carter prank, I might have pulled his leg to tease him. "I don't hold hands with Carter, if that's what you're wondering."

"Only with me," he said in a borderline growl.

A flush tingled across my scalp at this more possessive side of him. "Only with you."

"Come on, Birdfriend." Josie tossed him a wide-brimmed sunhat. "We've got beans to plant."

"I'll be back soon," I promised them, wishing I didn't have to go. "Stay hydrated."

As I rounded the corner, heading for the bench, I heard him ask, "What's a birdfriend?"

Although it was all kinds of wrong, I tucked myself against the building and eavesdropped like a fiend.

"It's like a boyfriend but with more bird," Josie said helpfully. "It means you've got a thing for my sister."

"A thing for her?" He sounded thoughtful. "I did give her a tree."

"No, no, no." She stomped around, probably shaking muck off her boots. "I mean you like her."

"I do like her."

"No, like you like her."

"I do like her."

"Not like her, like her, but like-like her."

I pictured Kierce tilting his head as he worked through a chain of logic I wasn't sure I could have parsed if I wasn't fluent in Josie. I liked that he was trying, though. I liked that he was so frank about it even more.

"Okay." She gave it some thought. "It means you want to do more than hold hands with Frankie."

I was going to kill her. I was going to die of embarrassment first. Then I was coming back to kill her.

Understanding dawned as his breaths grew louder. "You mean physical intimacy."

A cringe made me grateful he couldn't see me as I withered away from this invasive line of inquiry.

"Eww." She chuckled, making me wish I could see his expression to read it for myself. "But also yes."

That was as much as I could take, so I hightailed it to the bench before I overheard something I couldn't unhear. I swapped my mucky waders out for the clean sneakers I left there earlier then climbed on the backseat of Carter's giant black truck since Harrow occupied the front seat beside her.

"You're up early." Carter tossed me a white paper bag that rattled. "Those are for yesterday."

"You didn't have to get me anything." I peeked inside and caught a whiff of buttered popcorn. "I see you heard about apology jelly beans." I pulled out a clear plastic bag full of yellow and white-speckled ones. "I stand by my statement. You didn't have to do this." I removed the metal twist tie and tossed one in my mouth. "But I appreciate the gesture."

"You're welcome." She unflinchingly held my gaze in the rearview mirror. "Thanks for giving me another second chance." She shifted in her seat. "I'm not sure I would have in your shoes."

"I've been judged for what I am, what it took to survive, all my life." I slanted my eyes away from Harrow when I said it. "We're square. As long as you keep trying, I will too." I grinned to let her know I was really okay. "You've met my siblings more than once, so you know I have infinite patience and boundless stores of forgiveness."

"You two have been bonding," Harrow remarked, glancing between us.

"You're the one who nudged me to go out and make new friends." I pointed at her. "Behold, a friend."

"She's my training officer," he began then seemed to think twice about what he was going to say.

If the denial of a friendship between them hurt Carter's feelings, she didn't show it. I wasn't sure if there had been a kernel of potential for more there pre-Lyle, but I sensed any bonds they'd forged had broken. I entertained the notion Harrow was frowning because he had wanted to cut her out of his life whenever he was approved for solo work. Contact with me past that benchmark, if we weathered this latest storm, would make avoiding her impossible. But maybe I was reading into things.

"You're afraid us girls will gang up on you." I played it off. "I get it."

"Yes." He turned his gaze out his window. "That's what worries me."

Many awkward minutes later, just as I was about to crack, an incoming text from Josie distracted me from the silence stuffing the cab.

You've met Business Kierce, Luau Kierce, and Vintage Vibes Kierce, but have you met Kountry Kierce?

"Oh God." I scrolled down to the images she had sent. "I'm going to kill her."

The attached photos showed him wearing overalls and waders. Shirtless. A straw hat cast his face in shadow, but I could just make out his frown. He posed with a pitchfork in one hand and Badb on his left shoulder. And then I noticed the pièce de résistance.

A long grass stem clamped between his lips, its droop confirming he was indeed frowning at the camera.

He's not a Barbie. Quit playing dress up with him.

The sisters wouldn't allow us to have Barbies at St. Mary's, so I forgive your confusion. Kierce would be a Ken. Dare I say Kierce the Ken Doll?

Yeehaw.

He's not a toy.

Oh, please. Tell me you don't want to play with him. With a straight face.

Tell him to get dressed before he burns.

Sun was not his friend. He was as pale as the cream cheese icing on Josie's famous red velvet cake.

No worries on that front. I rubbed him down with sunscreen. I'm not a total heathen.

And I do mean rubbed.

Mmm. He's so muscley. And no chest hair.

Does he wax?

OH. Do you think he would let me wax him?

"Problem?" Carter killed the radio I hadn't noticed was playing. "You're growling."

"Just fantasizing about being an only child." I blacked out the phone screen of taunts before I attempted to reach through it and strangle my sister. "Are you sure you're not interested in marrying Josie? I would offer a dowry. A big one. And a moving truck. And movers."

"You okay back there?" Drawn by my tone, Harrow twisted to face me. "You're blotchy."

"I'm good." I ignored the vibrations that indicated more texts from my sister. "How much farther?"

"We're here." She pulled into an empty driveway. "The house is a block down."

Street kids had honed their senses until they detected cops the way sharks smelled blood in the water. It was unrealistic to believe we could sneak up on them on their home turf. They were too wary and would run patrols twenty-four-seven to guard themselves from rival gangs. But approaching on foot gave them time to take our measure and decide how they wanted to confront us. That would have to do.

We got out and started walking, our hands empty and loose by our sides.

"We've got watchers," Carter said under her breath not three minutes later.

"Let's see how far they let us go." Harrow lengthened his stride until he walked next to me. "Stay close."

The house Maggy sent us to was at the end of a cul-de-sac. The yard was overgrown, full of tires and the guts of cars that had rusted over from exposure. A boy around sixteen sat on the sagging front steps, his breath white plumes from the vape device in his palm. He watched us approach through golden eyes, an air of entitlement in the slant of his head and in his amusement over the three of us calling on him.

"Ian." I hazarded a guess and was rewarded when his lips thinned. "Maggy told us where to find you."

"Maggy is dead." He took another hit. "I don't imagine she told you shit, lady."

"I'm a necromancer." I savored his cough of surprise. "I spoke to her just yesterday."

A blonde girl around nine or ten burst out the front door onto the steps. "You talk to dead people?"

Her wide blue eyes nailed me to the spot, her fingers twisting and untwisting in her long sleep shirt, and I mentally chanted be quiet, be still, go back . Boys like Ian didn't appreciate being upstaged in front of adults, and she had just stolen the spotlight.

"I do." I risked a simple question to gauge Ian's reaction. "Maggy was a friend of yours?"

"No." She bunched her toes on the peeling planks. "My friend was named Farah."

"Little, go back in." Ian didn't spare her a glance, but that calm didn't fool me. "You know the rules."

We had to get out of here before we caused this kid lasting harm.

Too bad Little didn't get the memo it was time to back off.

Bottom lip trembling, she made fists down at her sides. "But maybe she can?—"

"Keep talking, and I'll triple your take. You've already doubled it disrespecting me in front of our guests."

The girl, Little, shrank into herself when he started cracking his knuckles and retreated without another peep. The threat was clear. Either she shut her mouth or he shut it for her. And if he laid hands on her in front of me, I wouldn't let his age stop me from punishing him any more than Little's age saved her.

"Farah Kent." Harrow took the opening Little gave us. "Name ring a bell?"

"Lots of girls named Farah out in the world." He blew smoke rings. "Plenty in Georgia too."

"I met her spirit on the bridge over Herb River." I pitched my voice loud enough for the little girl to hear. "She's dead, but you probably figured that. She's worried about another girl. Her friend. Audrey Collins."

"You're a regular chatterbox, huh?" Ian's keen gaze bored into me. "You talk to Audrey too?"

Carter exchanged a glance with Harrow. "Are you saying she's dead?"

"Your friend here saying she's not?" Ian straightened his legs until his heels dug into the dust. "I'll do you a favor since you came all the way out here and let you leave without paying a tribute."

"Kid," Carter said on a laugh, "I wouldn't pay you a compliment."

Provoking Ian would only result in the kids under his thumb suffering for his dinged pride.

"Let's go." I lacked the authority to make that call, but Harrow and Carter listened to me. "We're done."

The longer we stayed, the more we riled him, the greater the danger for Little and the others.

"Listen to your ghost whisperer," Ian mocked from his warped and cracking throne.

To prevent any small ears that might be trailing us from overhearing, I waited until we got in the truck to comment.

"Audrey is either dead or she left." I chewed my bottom lip. "He meant it when he asked about her."

"That's the vibe I got too." Carter pulled out of the driveway. "He's a cool one, but he'd have to be to keep the others in line. Hard too. He came down on that girl without blinking."

A doubled fine, even a tripled one, was nothing compared to the punishment she was likely to receive for her insubordination behind closed doors.

Jaw flexing in profile, Harrow asked, "Do you think we should go back for her?"

"Unless she was kept on lockdown, which isn't happening without dumping her in juvie, Little would run right back to him the first chance she got." I had seen it play out a hundred times. "He's her home."

Those kids, that life. It was all she knew. Ian kept her safe. Even if it hurt. Even if it cost.

Carter slammed her palm against the steering wheel. "That's fucked up, Frankie."

"Yeah." I agreed one hundred percent. "It is."

The cab grew quiet, yet again, but this time it was on me. I did a decent job of acting like a well-adjusted adult. Sometimes I even believed it. Especially during long stretches when my real job hit a dry spell, and I got to play at being an office worker whose biggest responsibility was chasing down parts orders. I liked that version of me. She was the person I might have become if I'd had a normal life, a normal upbringing with parents and a house and new clothes and regular meals. Maybe even a dog.

But she was a polished veneer I used to hide the woman I was down at my core.

Ruthless, pitiless, merciless.

I could be vicious when it came to my family.

To survive was to whittle away the soft parts the world salivated to devour. To survive was to harden your heart until nothing anyone said or did to you could penetrate your shell. To survive was to give away pieces of your soul until the bits remaining no longer fit within the shape you saw in the mirror.

No one liked to think about it, or be reminded of it, me most of all.

"I need to stop for gas." Carter's diversion was welcome. "Frankie, can I get you anything?"

"Hold on." I couldn't stand to be alone with Harrow while I was this raw. "I'll go with you."

"No." She tugged on her door handle. "I think you should stay."

Her pointed gaze slid over my shoulder, lingered, then returned to me, but I didn't notice anything when I turned my head. Since arguing would only draw attention to the not-wanting-to-be-alone-with-Harrow thing, I slumped back in defeat.

Carter got out, shaking her head, leaving Harrow and me to stew.

"You had an Ian, when you were younger."

Of course, he had picked up the gauntlet I hadn't meant to throw down. "I did."

"He beat you when you stepped out of line." He thought about it. "Or threatened to evict your siblings."

"Yes," I croaked, hating how well he knew me when I was no longer sure the reverse was true.

"I'm not judging you."

For my own good or as a byproduct of his upbringing, Harrow had judged me from the moment we met. The comfortable life he had led up until our worlds collided hadn't prepared him for someone like me, with dirt under her nails, days-old clothes on her back, and a willingness to beg if it kept Josie and Matty fed.

He told me once he admired my bravery for standing in those food-bank lines, enduring the judgment from every person in the room—some of them in line ahead or behind me—waiting on the free supplies to get us through to the next week. I told him then it wasn't bravery. It was necessity.

I would have let them pelt me with rocks if it meant leaving with those pantry staples.

To stand and be judged by people who had no idea who I was or who I was providing for?

That was nothing compared to the fear of reaching the head of the line to find the bags ran out early.

A squeak and thump from the bed of the truck spared me from absolving him, but it made me curious what Carter had known that neither one of us had noticed until now.

"What was that?" I twisted sideways to peer through the glass. "I don't see anything."

"The bed was empty when Carter picked me up, and we've been together ever since."

As soon as my fingers closed over the handle to my door, a dirty face popped into view. "Little."

That solved one mystery, though Carter must have thought I was as dense as brick to miss her cue.

Based on Little's reaction to my skill set at the house, Carter must have figured the girl's interest was in me. Carter had been telling me to chill while she waited to see if the girl would approach given a chance.

The kid was brave. I would give her that. Brave to the point of recklessness.

"Frankie?" Harrow unfastened his seat belt slowly. "How do you want to play this?"

"She wants to talk." I recognized the desperation a mile away. "No sudden movements, all right?"

I figured lowering the window would be the action least likely to send her scurrying away, so I tried that. Even the most determined kid could lose their nerve at the last minute, and I wanted to hear what she'd deemed was worth more punishment if she got caught to tell me. Or ask me. Maybe a little of both.

"Hi there." I held very still so as not to startle her. "You're Little, right?"

"You're a street kid." Her eyes brightened. "Like me."

My what big ears you have…

"I have my own apartment now." I smiled at her wonder. "I don't even have to share it." As she marveled at the concept, as I had known she would, my heart broke. "I bet you will too. You can be anything you want when you grow up, you know that?"

"I can't read." Her hands left dirty prints. "Ian says I can't live by myself if I don't learn."

Right then, I would have punched Ian in the face, no matter our age difference.

"I have a couple of friends I'm teaching to read." I scooched closer, voice soft like I was sharing a secret. "They're ghosts, but they're nice ghosts. Three boys. They're about your age." I retreated to give her space. "You could join us for lessons. Maybe with you around, they'll pay attention. They're bad about tricking me into reading stories instead of doing their homework, though."

"You teach ghosts to read?" She hauled herself up until she was leaning into the truck. "For real?"

A snort that bordered on a laugh erupted in the front seat, reminding her Harrow was there.

"Yes." I acted fast to reclaim her attention. "I do."

"Ian wouldn't allow it." She slid down until I only saw the top of her head. "I'm already in trouble."

"I don't want you to get hurt." I resisted the urge to reach for her. "Just keep it in mind, okay?"

"I will." She peeped up at me, sucking on her bottom lip. "Did you really talk to Farah?"

"I did." I read the tattered edges of her grief. "Do you know what happened to her?"

"The Gillie Girls went down to the river, but she didn't come back."

"You're not a Gillie Girl?"

"No." Her disgust was plain. "I'm just a dumb human."

The way she said dumb human told me plenty about what nickname the others had given her.

"You were smart enough to sneak out and not get caught." I dialed up my grin. "That seems pretty smart to me." I could tell she didn't believe me, but she wanted to. Badly. "You and Farah were close?"

"She didn't let the other kids hit or kick me. She made sure I ate once a day and got a bath every week."

The crack in my heart spread until I was shocked neither she nor Harrow heard it shattering.

"I know where she's staying, if you want to visit her." The offer popped out of my mouth, and I regretted it as tears swam in Little's eyes. "You won't be able to see her, but I can pass messages for you both."

"That would be…" She pushed her shoulders back. "How much will it cost?"

"No charge." I could tell she didn't believe me. "Farah is helping me find who killed her, so I owe her."

"Okay." Her posture didn't soften. "When can we go?" She rose on her tiptoes. "Now?"

"Ghosts only come out after dark." I noticed Carter emerge from the store from the corner of my eye. "If you want, you can hang out with me until then. Farah is at Bonaventure. You know where that is, right?"

"Everybody knows Bonaventure." She rubbed her pale eyes, reminding me she was up past her bedtime. "I have to work tonight."

"I'll make you a deal." I spoke over her protest. "My sister is in her garden today, and she needs help. She'll pay you the same as she pays anyone who helps with planting. That should cover your take."

"I don't know how to garden."

"I didn't either until she taught me."

"What if the seeds I plant die? Will she be mad at me?"

"No matter what you do, she can fix it with her magic. Trust me. I'm a gardening disaster."

Mostly because I snacked my way through my chores on her apples, pears, and whatever else was ripe.

"Okay." She screwed up her courage. "Can I get a ride to your house?" Her pride hurt to witness. "I can walk if you don't want me in your truck. It'll just take me a while."

Throat closing over all the things I wanted to say, I settled on, "Of course you can get a ride."

"Thanks." She hopped down and skipped toward the rear of the truck. "Hey." Her tone sharpened with a wary edge. "The ghost lady told me I could ride back here."

The door across from me swung open before I could intervene, and Carter tossed Little in by her collar.

"Hey," Little squeaked, indignant. "What do you think you're doing?"

"You're not riding in the back again." Carter thrust a plastic bag into her hands. "It's not safe."

"She's right." I rushed to smooth things over. "You should ride with us."

"I was trying to," she grumbled, unable to conceal her wonder at sitting inside a truck this nice.

"Those are for you, by the way." Carter slammed the door then got behind the wheel. "Eat something."

Oh, yeah. She had known about Little. This was proof positive.

Little peeled open the bag, peered inside, and her stomach rumbled loud enough for all to hear.

"I'm not hungry," she lied, forcing herself to set the treats aside.

"I am." I reached in and selected salt and vinegar chips. "These are my favorite." I ate two, and her hunger as she watched clawed at me. "I'm old and have high sodium, though." Anyone over thirteen was an adult to these kids. Someone my age was lucky they didn't require a wheelchair to get around by their estimation. "Can you finish them for me? I don't want them to go to waste."

"I guess." She snatched the bag and crammed a handful in her mouth. "For your health."

"Oh man." I checked the drink selection. "Way to go, Carter. You know I'm allergic to corn syrup." I tsked at her. "Guess I can always give this soda to Harrow."

"The caffeine is too much for my heart at my age." He patted his chest. "How about you, Carter?"

"I'm a health nut." She bit into a cheddar puff from some secret stash. "I never touch the stuff."

"Guess we'll have to throw it away then." I slid it back into the bag. "Unless…" I pretended to just have come up with the idea. "Little, do you want it?"

"I don't want to get old." She snatched it, twisted off the cap, and drank half the bottle in one drag. "You guys can't eat or drink any of the good stuff. Your lives really suck, huh?"

"Yeah." Carter kept munching. "Totally."

While Little was distracted, I shot a text to Josie.

I'm bringing you a helper.

A flicker of concern tickled the edge of my mind, something Little had said bothering me, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

Oh. Now you're talking to me?

All concerns for Little evaporated as I clenched my hand around my phone.

You were being obnoxious.

Have you met me? It's my default setting. Ask yourself why it got under your skin this time.

Or was skin the problem? You wished it was your hands sliding over…

There was more to the text, but I quit reading. Josie was in rare form today, and I didn't have patience to deal with two children. I loved my sister, I did, but sometimes I was tempted to switch out jars of garden-fresh marinara in her pantry for store bought just to witness her horror upon tasting it.

Before I finished indulging in my revenge fantasies, Carter pulled into The Body Shop.

"I'll touch base tomorrow morning." Harrow leaned his seat back like he planned to nap on the way to work. "We'll figure out where to go from there."

After nudging Little, who was weighted down with her treats, out her door, I exited mine.

As fate would have it, I bumped right into Kierce and bounced off his chest. "Oh. Uh. Hi."

"Josie told me to meet you in the parking lot." He had gripped my upper arms to steady me but let me go. "She also said to remind you how much you love her and that you would miss her if you killed her."

"Ugh." I deflated on the spot. "She's too smart for her own good."

The message? Effective. The method of delivery? Not so much.

Josie must have been thinking too hard about saving herself to be worried for Kierce.

"Hey, Kierce." Carter nodded to him. "How's it going?"

"Better now that Frankie is back." He slanted me an apologetic wince. "Josie is…"

"Yes, she is, and I promise to never leave you alone with her without an intermediary again."

"Josie is your sister?" Little poked her head out from behind her goodies. "She's the one I'm supposed to be helping?"

"She's mean to boys." I checked Kierce over for damage. "She likes girls best."

Given the situation, I was hoping that would set her mind at ease the fastest.

"Oh." Little hopped down beside me. "I like girls best too."

"That makes three of us," Carter said slyly.

"Thanks for the lift, Carter." I shut the door to cut off anything else she might say. "Thanks, Harrow."

"You're welcome." He watched Kierce through the side mirror. "Talk to you soon."

Kierce, doing his best to mitigate the damage, led Little around the shop to the garden.

Harrow didn't take his eyes off him, and I didn't take my eyes off Harrow.