It was bright and sunny as they walked out of the store, but the sharp chill in the air went straight through James’s unzipped jacket. “What do you think?” Amelia asked as they started across the parking lot.

“I think I’ve seen people do worse for less,” James muttered, yanking up the zipper on his coat.

Amelia was silent, and James almost regretted bringing it up. But as they got into the car, she said, “Revenge is a good motive. But are we thinking there’s someone with this kind of ability working for minimum wage at a clothing store? If I could kill people with magic, I wouldn’t be working in customer service.”

She took out her phone and called Headquarters. A second later, Graham picked up.

“Any leads?” he asked.

“Maybe?” Amelia said. “Apparently, the Delinskys have really screwed their employees lately and are either completely oblivious to how it looks, or they’re rubbing it in.”

She put her phone in the holder mounted on their dashboard and turned on the van. It hesitated for a moment, then rumbled to life. “We’ve got another location we’re going to look at in a little while. If we get similar answers there, we’ll need to look more into how someone could do this and get away with it.”

“The methods of death are so violent and out there,” Madelyn said from slightly off-speaker. “And didn’t Rita Delinsky say she was transported from outside Boston?”

“Same with the others,” Amelia said. “So either it teleported them or mind-controlled them into traveling out here to die.”

“That’s some intense power,” James said, his heart sinking a little.

His own deep terror of mind control aside, this kind of investigation was outside of what they normally dealt with. While the magic was pretty typical, something this powerful with a full investigation, including this many moving parts, was different.

“We might need to try and bring in a curse expert,” he said as Amelia slowly drove out of the parking lot. “Hopefully, the Foundation has someone that can help.”

“Bradley just called in from Ashburnham,” Madelyn said, closer to the speaker now. “They met with more family members today. No real new information, but he said he doesn’t think it’s from the family. They’re awful, but they’re awful together.”

“No signs of any estranged family members?” James asked.

“Not that they could tell,” Madelyn replied. “He said they asked, but they were tripping over themselves to assure him and Gabriella that nobody in the family would ever risk that.”

“Risk leaving or risk killing them?”

“Both, I guess?”

“We’re heading over to the next location now,” James said, pulling up the map on his own phone. “It’s about twenty-five minutes from here. We’ll probably grab a quick supper while we’re out, then head back to headquarters. Text me if you want us to pick you up anything.”

They hung up a second later, just as Amelia was pulling onto the highway. James pulled out his phone to see a text from Gabriella.

GABRIELLA

It’s not the family. They’re awful, but they’re all invested.

He typed out his reply.

JAMES

In the business or in each other?

GABRIELLA

The business. These people don’t give a shit about each other.

“Gabs is saying the same thing,” James told Amelia as she passed a tractor-trailer, then moved back into the middle lane.

“So that narrows the possible suspects down to, oh, twenty shops?” Amelia said. “Not to mention the friends and family we haven’t found yet who might want revenge.”

“If the Foundation wants us doing full investigations, they better start acting like it,” James said, rolling his eyes as he scanned through his email.

There was one from McGovern, thanking him for sending the reports and asking for updates on this case. This was, again, shockingly reasonable. Despite his irritation at the Foundation in general, James sent a quick reply, then put the map back up on his screen and put it on the dashboard mount.

He had twenty-five minutes to mull this all over before they reached their next stop.

---

The next shop was in an equally upscale, equally cut-throat mall. Again, Amelia dropped James at the front door like she was dropping her kid off at school, then weaved her way through the crowds to find a parking space as he went inside.

This Delinsky’s location was almost identical to the first one. Christmas greenery in every corner and draped tastefully over displays, warm gold fixtures polished to perfection, and smooth jazz carols drifting on the lightly scented air. James tensed up immediately as he walked inside.

Again, he made his way up to the busy checkout counter. “Excuse me,” he said to the man at the end register.

“Busy,” the man snapped, “Please come back later.”

He was a tall man, probably a little taller than James, and maybe a little older. But there was an unhealthy look to him, a pinched, sallow vibe that immediately caught James’s attention. “I need to speak to a manager,” he said. “It’s a work matter.”

“She’s gone,” the man said, still not looking at him as he scanned the pile of scarves in front of him.

“Is there someone else?”

“No.”

“Who’s in charge?”

Frustration was bubbling in James’s chest, but getting belligerent wouldn’t help. Not when he could almost see the steam coming from this guy’s ears already. The guy finally turned to him. “It’s Gary,” he snapped. “But he’s not here right now.”

James glanced at the other register, where a young woman was standing completely still, clearly listening to the whole interaction. She barely seemed to notice the customer in front of her until they talked to her, causing her to jump and rush to serve them.

Odd.

“Look,” James said. “I’m an investigator working on behalf of the Delinsky family and I really need to speak to your manager. Do you know when he’ll be in?”

“No idea,” the man said. “If you’re really an investigator, you’ll need to figure it out yourself. Next customer.”

He motioned for the person at the front of the line, deliberately turning his body away from James. This wasn’t worth arguing about right now. He’d just come back.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, glancing down at the man’s name tag. “Fine,” he said. “Thanks for your help, um, Jeremy.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, but he still didn’t turn back to James. James turned and walked away, reaching the front door as Amelia was coming in.

“Don’t bother,” he said. “We need to come back later.”

Amelia looked curiously behind him toward the register, but followed him out without argument. “What was that about?” she asked as they crossed the street into the densely packed parking lot.

“Manager apparently isn’t on today and the guy at the register was not feeling chatty,” James replied. “He was aggressive about it.”

“I mean, they were clearly busy.”

“Yeah, but still. Whatever. He said to call and find out when the manager was in because he didn’t know. Or, wait…”

He paused as he pulled open the passenger side door and climbed into the van. “He said there was no manager, but this guy Gary was in charge and wasn’t there. Whatever that means.”

“I guess we’ll have to ask Gary.”

“Yeah.”

Amelia carefully eased the van out of the tiny parking spot. “By the way, do you want me to drive?” James asked. “You’ve been driving all day.”

“Nah,” she said. “I’m already going. But you can drive home if you really want to.”

“Always.”

She laughed. “Alright, I’m hungry,” she said, heading toward the parking lot exit. “Where are we getting lunch?”

---

They stopped for burritos at a small place off the highway, about ten minutes away from the mall. After texting the others, they got orders for everyone, stacking the brown paper bags on the table as they sat down to eat their own food. It was a fairly long drive home, maybe an hour or so, but it wasn’t like anyone was going to complain if their food was cold.

James ate his burrito quickly, sitting at the tiny table inside the restaurant with Amelia. She’d gotten some kind of burrito salad or something, and she mixed it all together as she sat down.

“So Gabriella mentioned some guy named Zach?” Amelia asked.

James took a sip of his Diet Coke and nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess he’s the nephew or something. Seems like a decent guy, despite being a Delinsky.”

“That’s what she said,” Amelia said. “He was one of the ones they interviewed today and was one of two Delinskys to show any hint of emotion.”

“Hmm.”

He took a bite of his burrito and realized far too late that he recognized that look in her eye. “She also said he was flirting with you yesterday.”

James held up a finger, swallowed his food, and took another sip of his drink. “No,” he said finally. “He handed me a business card and said to let him know if we needed anything.”

“But was it like, you needed anything or you needed anything?”

James rolled his eyes. “Gabriella has too much time on her hands, apparently,” he said. “He wasn’t flirting.”

Amelia shrugged. “Okay, I believe you.”

She clearly didn’t. “Good.”

“Bradley said he’s a dick.”

“High praise from a true expert in the field.”

“Maybe if you got laid once in a while-”

He held up a hand to stop her. This was not what they were discussing over lunch, not even if it was just the two of them. “Listen,” he said. “Even if he was flirting, I’m not dating someone involved in the case. I’m not that unprofessional.”

Amelia shrugged. “Sure thing. Let’s finish up and get on the road before the traffic gets bad.”

James waited cautiously to see if she really was going to let it go. She didn’t say another word as she picked up the bags of takeout, but the slight smirk never left her face.

---

Five minutes later, they were back in the van, and James was pulling out of the tiny parking lot. “Looks like snow,” he said, glancing up at the sky.

The clouds were hanging heavier above them than they had before, even though they hadn’t stopped for very long. He couldn’t see any flakes yet, but suddenly had the urge to get home as fast as possible to avoid driving in it.

“The weather can’t decide what it wants to be today,” Amelia said, shaking her head. “Alright, you know where you’re going, right?”

He nodded, pulling out into the stream of traffic passing by the restaurant. “Yeah, it’s nothing,” he said.

The sun was already going down, so they were likely to hit traffic on the way home, especially since they were fairly close to the city. But it wasn’t quite as late as it felt. James hated that about December. It got so dark so early, it felt like it was so much later than it really was.

“So Chris is moving,” he said as he drove through an intersection heading away from the business district and into a more wooded patch of road. “He’s going into the woods to find himself or something. So now we need a new roommate.”

“Got anyone in mind?” Amelia asked.

“Not yet,” James replied, frowning as the van bucked slightly. “Hey, did you notice anything weird with the van while you were driving?”

“No,” she said. “It seemed fine to me.”

He tested the gas pedal, and it seemed smooth. Maybe it was the engine? They’d have to throw repairs on the list of expenses in that case. Shit, he could hear Bradley’s complaints already. The van was in for repairs at least three times a year, usually more. And it had been the branch’s official vehicle for as long as James had worked there.

As much sentimental feeling as he might have held for it, this was getting ridiculous. When was it going to be worth scrapping the van and getting something new? Probably never, if the Foundation had anything to say about it.

“I’ll take a look when we get back,” James said. “It’s probably just the cold or something.”

He tried the brake, and it easily lowered under his foot as the van slowed down. Yeah, this was fine. It was just the van acting up. And as a knocking noise appeared from somewhere in the rear, he glanced at the GPS to see that they had another forty minutes at least.

“Chris said he’ll help, but me and Graham are both a little uneasy about that,” he continued, trying to push the strange, expensive-sounding problem out of his mind. “We’ll probably end up with his brother or something.”

Amelia laughed. “Hey, at least he paid his rent. It could be worse.”

“Yeah, true.”

“Have you considered putting up a notice online? That’s how you got Chris in the first place, right?”

James went to answer, but then there was another sputter and the van jolted forward, throwing them both in their seats. James’s seatbelt bit into his waist and he grunted in pain. “Shit,” he said. “Hopefully it’s just the cold.”

It was well above freezing, but neither of them said anything about it. Instead, they were silent as the van rolled toward the highway. It was fine, it was just an old vehicle acting up, nothing to worry about.

They reached the top of the sloping hill and James tapped the brake to slow down as they descended. This time, the pedal collapsed under his foot and the van’s speed didn’t change.

Fuck. He tapped the brake again, praying he’d just done it wrong somehow the first time. But again, it sank too loosely, the pedal mushy under his foot. The van continued to speed up as it rolled down the empty street, passing a small house before they were surrounded by trees.

“What’s going on?” Amelia demanded.

“The brakes aren’t working,” James replied, desperately hitting the pedal again.

“What do you mean, they aren’t working?”

Amelia’s voice was rising and nausea rose in James’s panicked throat as the van moved faster and faster down the hill. There was still no one around, but there were curves in the road ahead and if they were moving this fast or faster, they could hit another car or go off the road, or…

He tried to remember what he’d learned in drivers’ education years earlier, but they didn’t go over this, did they? The worst thing they focused on was parallel parking, and he still sucked at that. James hoped they’d reach the bottom of the hill soon and coast to a stop, but a glance at the steep drops full of trees on each side of the road showed that wasn’t likely to happen.

The van was going so fast that the trees were blurring together. The brakes were completely gone as he tried over and over again to get them to engage. All thought had left James’s brain except FIX IT! Could he turn to the side and slow down the momentum? Or what? Was there anything he could do?

“TURN!” Amelia screamed.

There was a sharp turn in the road ahead, and James wrenched the steering wheel to the side. The van skidded on the road, which was thankfully empty in the opposite lane. He tried to get the van going straight, but it was tipping too far to the side, two tires completely off the road now.

And then it was on its side, then rolling, tossing the two of them painfully despite their seatbelts. James’s head whipped forward, then backward, and he heard the sound of Amelia’s head making contact with something as the van rolled.

Then the road dropped away sickeningly below them and sparks flew past the closed window as they went through the guardrail. As the van slid down the side of the embankment, James knew they weren’t getting out of this.

---

CONTINUE TO CHAPTER 10