Reluctantly, Jax followed. He hated breaking the law, but he hated anything happening to Evie worse. This was how R&R got into trouble with the military—warped priorities.
The central hall had no outside windows to let in the dying daylight, but the low exit lights offered enough to see where they were going. The corridor was eerily silent. The last time they’d been in here, Evie had chatty friends with her so Jax hadn’t noticed the silence.
“Shouldn’t they turn down the air conditioning when the office is closed?” he asked, feeling the chill after the heat outside.
Almost at the front of the building, Evie halted, put a finger to her lips, and pointed at the window of the public office where Clancy had been found.
Jax instantly stepped in front of her, holding out his arms to keep her from passing until he saw what she did. Except, he didn’t. Puzzled, he studied the window. There was nothing there.
Going closer, he felt a draft of cold air.
“He’s in there,” she whispered behind him. “His aura is a flaming red. Do you believe in hell?”
Twenty
“Damn,”Evie muttered, studying the weird glow. “If I believed in heaven and hell, I’d say Clancy is teetering on the brink of the latter.”
Jax wrapped his arm around her, anchoring her to reality. The uptight lawyer was starting to grow on her, like moss maybe. But she was damned glad he was here. She’d never seen a ghost like this. Scattered remnants of energy, okay. Roaming balls of fire? Not so much.
Jax tried to turn her around. “My personal belief is that heaven and hell are our own creation. Let’s get out now. You have no way of knowing what you’re dealing with.”
Okay, so he wasn’t quite buying this assisting business, and she was less thrilled with his company.
“I have no one to teach me but myself.” She wriggled free and approached the window. “The apparitions I’ve encountered are usually ancient energies, fragments of old souls. This thing—is practically alive in comparison. Without a body to orient it, his aura is like heat lightning. I can’t even determine what chakra it emanates from.”
Jax’s silence indicated cluelessness, but at least he wasn’t arguing. “Can you ask questions from out here?”
“Probably not. I need to catch his attention. He’s just stewing in his own hell right now, still confused, I imagine.” If she were truthful, that cold emanation terrified her. Was hell a cold fire?
Jax placed his hands on her shoulders and watched with her, although he probably wasn’t seeing anything. “Do you know what you want to ask? What’s most important in case he turns dangerous?”
He forced her to focus on her goal. So maybe he had more purpose than moss. Evie relaxed against his strength and closed her eyes to ponder. “Who threw the cat? Because he really doesn’t grasp that he’s dead, so he won’t know who killed him.”
“Good point, and ask why. Then just get out, okay?” He squeezed her shoulders. “Or we could just leave and forget about it.”
“I have to do this. I’ll kick myself for the rest of my life if I don’t.” Feeling the reassurance in Jax’s grip, she was reluctant to pull away. But he’d be around tomorrow. Clancy’s ghost might not be. Her goals might be intellectually nebulous, but instinctively, she knew what she had to do.
“I’ll kick myself into eternity if anything happens to you,” Jax murmured, before releasing her.
That sounded lovely—to a point. “I’m not exactly going to war.” Gritting her teeth, Evie entered the office.
She shivered at the icy blast. How did no one notice? The flaming aura blazed brighter in alarm at her entrance. But then the spirit’s native caution returned, and a sliver of muddy blue steadied the darkening red.
“Who threw the cat, Mr. Clancy?” Evie approached the desk, thinking the question as much as speaking it. Conversing with energy wasn’t an easy task.
“Thebitch! She promised me.” The not-quite-a-voice sparked more angry flares. “She said I’d be governor. Lies!”
Evie waited through incoherent cursing and muttering. Had awomanthrown the cat? She searched her memory but Iddy had simply said someone large. Bernice was large... If Clancy was merely an emotional firestorm, she might never get anything practical from him.
“Whopromised you?” She kept her question simple in hopes of a direct answer.
“He’ll be president! I should begovernor.” The aura flew about, as if Clancy might be pacing.
Were they even on the same topic? Maybe ghosts merely recycled the traumas or grievances of their past. Names seemed to be problematic, butpresidentworked. “Swenson promised to make you governor? With his voting machines?”
“Machines!” The red flared brighter and papers blew around on the desk. “Don’t destroy them!”
Evie’s strength was draining fast. Did the ghost pull on her energy to speak? She was having difficulty trying to follow andhearthe aura, while translating these enigmatic statements fast enough to phrase the next question. She was supposed to get in and out. Sensing Jax in the doorway, she needed to keep Clancy’s spirit fixated on her. Once ghosts learned to move physical objects, they were dangerous.