Jax located Evie first,in a corner of the pitch-black office, and blocked her from the others. She stood behind him, arms crossed, muttering—presumably at Clancy’s ghost. It would be perfect if she could persuade a name out of the bastard, but Jax didn’t hold out hopes. They’d stirred up all the trouble they could this evening, and neither of them had accomplished anything—except shooting out the electricity again and nearly draining most of the batteries in the room. Ghostly energy?
“Well, that was highly unsatisfactory if revelatory.” In total darkness, with the alarms still screaming, Larraine Ward sounded miffed.
Jax had to agree.
Sensing Evie needed privacy, he remained in front of her, keeping an eye—or an ear—on the others. Geoff was on the phone with city hall’s security. Hank had reached an electrician before cursing as his phone died. After giving up on his cell, the sheriff had radioed paramedics for Bernice, who was already recovering and protesting she didn’t need help.
All officials proceeding as they ought, not one of them behaving like a killer. Of course, Swenson had left the room—to warn his senator father? Teddy might be a state representative, but he was still the poor working Swenson. He didn’t have a trust fund to invest in DVM. He was apparently just a stooge for others.
“The next election may be by paper ballot. Hope that doesn’t hurt your chances any,” Jax responded to Ward. He could smell her perfume close by.
“I’ll have my lawyer look up voting by mail. But you’d better watch your back. What happens if the feds prove Swenson and others were voted in by fraud?” Ward sounded more amused now. He could tell she was waving her frilly pink cowboy hat like a fan. The air conditioning had gone off with the lights.
The frigid pocket of air abruptly disappeared. Jax glanced over his shoulder. Evie was rigid and radiating a cold light all her own.
“They’ll all be voted out before the suit ever reaches court,” Jax predicted, keeping an eye on Evie.
Ward followed his gaze. “She’s talking to the spirits, isn’t she? I wonder what her aura looks like.”
“Crushed, at the moment, I suspect. She hoped Clancy’s ghost would point out his killer.” Jax would never have said that to the sheriff, but for some reason, he figured Ward understood.
“Huh, wonder if they hired a hitman? Like I said, watch your back. I’m gonna talk to that smart Bernice. She seems like she knows a thing or two.” Ward swayed off.
Jax noted the second Evie started to slump and caught her just as the lights returned.
“He’s gone?” he murmured, holding her up while the others cursed and began making more calls.
“Ghosts are not reliable witnesses,” she muttered back. “He shrieked about the sins of the parents being visited on the sons and other inanities. I’m convinced spirit energy is little more than shades of a person’s most intense memories and emotions. I think I’ve sent him on.”
Judging by the lack of cold draft, she was right. Almost a pity. Clancy had provided free a/c there for a while.
“Let’s get the hell out, then. All we’ve done is uncover an incompetent burglar, a crooked salesman, and insured those machines won’t be used again.” Once he was certain he wouldn’t have to carry her, Jax led Evie out to his motorcycle—where she’d locked it to her bike.
“Where did Roark go?” she asked, not disentangling their wheels.
The utility van was gone. “They were just monitoring the vicinity to be certain we didn’t have any uninvited guests.” Jax checked his phone. The battery was low but he could pick up Roark’s text. He showed it to her. “They’ve got the whole scene on video. I don’t think we’ll get any earthshaking charges out of this.”
“And a killer or two is still on the loose. Is it even safe to go home?” Evie clung wearily to him.
“Excellent question. Let’s leave the bikes here and walk over to my office.” Too buzzed to settle down, Jax didn’t want to wrangle with locks or figure out where to go next.
“If you think we’ll have another dance on the Morris chair, forget it. I’m wiped. I’ll be asleep in seconds.” Evie leaned heavily into him as they strolled across the street and past the courthouse.
“I put in a stock of supplies while I was holed up. Sugar or alcohol?” Holding Evie like this, Jax recognized more than the pull of lust. Sure, he’d hoped for another tango on the ancient chair, but after tonight, he owed Evie the respect of taking her out to dinner, at the very least.
If it hadn’t been for her, he’d still be wallowing in confusion. Tonight, she’d pushed some of his suspects over the edge and cleared up a few dangling threads.
Maybe he should take her back to California and see what she could do there.
“Sugar. My brains are already fried. They don’t need pickling, too.” She slumped in his arms as they reached the lobby, causing panic.
“Do I need to worry about low blood sugar and emergency rooms?” He scooped her up and hurried up to his office.
She snuggled against him. “Explain that I just sent a cranky spirit to hell? Probably not.”
“Yeah, God complexes are frowned upon by medical sorts.” Not bothering to work out the implications of Evie’s impossible statement, Jax managed to unlock the door, kick it shut, carry her through the outer office, and drop her in the plush leather chair. His pulse rate didn’t drop as he crossed to his desk.
She snorted inelegantly. “Do you think stubborn idiots argue with God at the pearly gates? Arguing with hell hounds probably isn’t any more productive. Clancy should have been a lawyer.”