She nodded. “Yuh did.”

Jesus fucking Christ, my heart ached for both of them, and I felt helpless; obscenely helpless.

“I’m sorry,” I said to Dawn. “I’m so sorry. I wish I did know something that could help, but I don’t.”

“It means a lot that yuh came,” she murmured. “Mebbe yuh could show the chief inside?”

I nodded. “Of course.”

Chief Bryant’s face was pouchy with sleep and his hair was disheveled, but his eyes were sharp and alert beneath their heavy lids. “All right,” he said in a deep, reassuring voice as he entered the master bedroom. “Let’s everyone just take this down a notch, okay? Mr. Evans, why don’t you step inside so we can talk man-to-man?”

“No, sir.” Scott shook his head. “I’m fine right where I am.”

“All right, then, why don’t you just hand the gun over to Officer Fairfax?” the chief suggested.

Scott wasn’t budging. Well, except for the violent shivering. “No, sir,” he said politely. “I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can.”

Something caught my eye. Scott Evans wasn’t the only thing shivering. The silver watch chain dangling from the chief’s coat pocket was vibrating visibly.

“Son of a bitch!” I said without thinking. Chief Bryant shot me a look. “Chief, the watch, the watch!”

He glanced down. “Must have shoved it into my pocket on the way out. Force of habit.”

“Take it out!” I said. “Hold it over the bed!”

“Excuse me?” Dawn said in a perplexed tone. On the balcony, her husband looked as bewildered as she sounded—bewildered enough that he’d involuntarily lowered the pistol a few inches.

I couldn’t blame them, but I didn’t want to take the time to explain. Chief Bryant fished the watch out of his pocket and let it dangle over the bed. It rotated in a circle on the end of its chain, the hands on the dial spinning backward.

“Son of a bitch!” I said again. That’s what I got for lending too much credence to a mundane expert. I whirled around to face the open sliding door. “Scott, you’re not crazy. She’s real. The Night Hag’s real.”

He lowered the pistol a few more inches. “She is?”

“She is?” Dawn echoed.

“Yeah.” I glanced at Dawn. “You didn’t put a horseshoe over the door, did you?”

She shook her head. “Ah couldn’t find one on short notice. Ah was gonna call yuh tomorrow.”

I grimaced. “It’s my fault. I should have figured this out yesterday. Scott, will you come inside now?”

He still hesitated. “This is a trick, isn’t it?”

“No trick,” I promised him. “The chief’s watch is genuine dwarfish craftsmanship. It responds to the residue of eldritch presence.”

Scott looked uncertainly at Chief Bryant.

“Crazy as it sounds, she’s telling the truth, son,” the chief said. “I give you my word of honor.”

“That means we can catch the bitch.” My tail lashed with vehemence, my temper surging. “She’s not free to prey on anyone in my town.”

“Hell, yeah!” For the first time, Scott Evans smiled, a tight, fierce smile as he lowered the pistol to his side.

Unfortunately, at that very moment the balcony gave an alarming creak. Scott took a lurching step, his bare feet slipping on the sleet-covered wood. His hand clenched on the trigger as he fell backward and the pistol discharged, the gunshot sounding like . . . pretty much nothing but a gunshot. A scream caught in my throat. Scott hit the railing hard, and the pistol fell from his hand. If the balcony had been up to code, it would have caught him, but the old 1970s-built railing was at least a foot and a half lower than current regulations required, and he began to topple backward over it.

Moving with inhuman speed, Cody let out a growl and lunged through the sliding glass door, catching Scott by the waist of his drawstring pajama pants. I’d like to say I was there in a flash to back him up, but it was Dawn who helped him wrestle her husband into the bedroom. Cody kept his face averted, and I hoped she was distracted enough not to notice.

“Are yuh shot?” she asked Scott with professional efficiency. “Lemme see.”

His teeth were chattering. “I’m okay.”

“It’s all right,” Cody said, his voice sounding muffled as he retrieved the pistol and examined the balcony. “The bullet went straight down.”

“Yuh idiot!” Dawn clutched Scott’s shoulders, tears in her voice. “Yuh goddamn idiot!”

“I know,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her. Oblivious to the world, they held each other.

“Well, then.” The chief hitched up his belt. “Daisy, Cody, it looks like you’ve got yourself a case.”

A few days ago, I would have been glad to hear it. Today, I stifled a sigh.

Great.

      Seven

Cody and I took another statement from Scott Evans. It was identical to the first one, except that this time he’d broken the paralysis to fight back; or at least he thought he had, until he awoke to find himself throttling his wife.

“So what happens now?” he asked us, an afghan blanket wrapped around him.

“Ideally, I’d suggest you get out of town until we find the Night Hag,” I said. “The eldritch need a functioning underworld to enable their magic, and she shouldn’t be able to operate outside of Hel’s territory. Is there anyone you can stay with well outside the city limits?”