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Jackson’s jaw dropped and he stumbled over a few nonsensical syllables. “I…ah..I—”
I arched an eyebrow at him and took over. “How long was Ms. Lenkova a tenant in your building?”
“About three or four years. I can’t remember the exact date, but she’s been a stellar tenant from day one. Never made a fuss about nothin’ and baked the best cookies I’ve ever tasted.”
“When’s the last time you saw her?” I asked, biting at my lower lip. The questions were important for our investigation, but I was jumping out of my skin. I wanted to pick through Nadia’s things, and get some answers. Something about the building was tugging at the back of my mind. Like my sixth sense had picked up a disturbance in the force.
“I saw her about…” he thought for a second, “I think it was three days ago. Which isn’t really all that strange. I live on the bottom floor and ever since she moved in she's come and go at odd hours. Making house calls and what not.”
“House calls?” Jackson and I asked in unison.
Monty looked back and forth between us smiling a little. “Yeah, Miss Lenkova was a traveling psychic. Made a lot of house calls. At least that’s what she told me.”
Jackson beat me to the next question.“Did she ever mention having trouble with a client?”
“Nope, as far as I knew everyone loved her. Is it true they found her in Lafayette Cemetery?”
“Is that significant to you somehow?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest. The way he asked the question caught my attention. It wasn’t curiosity driving him, but worry. He cared for Nadia, more than a landlord should. I could see it in the tightness around his eyes and the way he shifted his weight.
“Well, yeah.” He frowned. “A couple days ago, I was talking to Miss Nadia, telling her about this date I had. The girl was new to town, so I took her out and we were doing the whole tourist thing. I mentioned that I’d taken her to Lafayette to see that voodoo queen’s tomb and Miss Nadia freaked. She went super pale and told me I shouldn’t expose people to places like that. Told me that I should avoid that cemetery like it was the plague. Didn’t realize until it was too late that Laveau, the voodoo queen, is actually buried in a different cemetery.”
I frowned. “That’s strange.”
“Thanks, Monty,” Jackson said. “Can you let us into her place now?”
“Of course, of course.” He turned around and opened the building door.
The inside of the warehouse looked nothing like its rough exterior. The lobby was entirely modern. Clean lines, dark wood, and soft white walls with silver fixtures thrown in. Monty led us up the stairs and the tile gave way to dark hardwood. We stopped on the second floor, at a black door with the number two on it. Monty pulled a ring of keys from his belt and unlocked it.
Jackson put a hand out, barring the door, before he could walk inside. “We’ll take it from here. Thank you.”
“Huh?” Monty squinted up at him. “It’s okay, I can get you past her wards, but—actually they should be gone now that she's dead.”
“I appreciate that, but we’d prefer to view her life through our own eyes first. Without outside interference,” Jackson said.
The leprechaun blinked. “I get it. You don’t need me contaminating any evidence. I’ll be downstairs. If you need me, just holler.”
I flashed him a smile as he started back down the stairs. “Thanks, Monty.”
He waved over his shoulder and disappeared.
“We good to enter?” Jackson asked, taking a step away from the door.
“Let’s see.” I flexed my fingers, sending waves of magic buzzing around beneath my skin. An aura of shimmering light extended from my nails, and a blue mist shimmered across the door. I exhaled and it disbursed like a soundless firework, its sparks drifting and disappearing near the ground.
“And that was?” Jackson frowned.
“The remains of Nadia’s protection wards. They’re broken now that she’s dead.”
“So, we’re good to enter?”
Instead of answering, I pushed the door open with a small nudge of telekinetic force. Neither of us was prepared for what lurked on the other side. Nadia’s apartment could generously fit the entire first floor of my house, and from what I could see, she’d kept it sparsely furnished. Yet somehow it looked like a bomb had gone off. Debris from the witch’s life covered every inch of the floor.
Jackson inhaled sharply and pulled out the gun he kept in his shoulder holster. Faint magic radiated from the threshold, still lingering even after the occupant had died. I tapped him on the arm, letting him know my intention, and stepped past him, flexing my fingers. Despite his gun, it was safer for me to lead the way. Nadia had loved her home. If her threshold was still the least bit intact, any number of spells and traps could be waiting on the other side.
Foreign power crackled along my skin as I stepped through the door, but it wasn’t strong enough to strip any of my energy away. Though I could tell I would’ve been powerless had Nadia been alive.
Jackson stepped in after me and started clearing the space. I stayed close to him. If anything tried to hurt him, it would have to get through me. The living room, kitchen, and workout space were all one room. The bathroom was set behind a door on the far wall, and the bedroom was separated from the living space by large partitions made from frosted glass, one of which had exploded across the floor.The bedroom was just as tossed as the rest of the place, but there was no sign of whatever did the tossing. I sighed and Jackson holstered his gun.
