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THE HERMETIC DETECTIVE

Kirsten Weiss

THE HERMETIC

DETECTIVE

A RIGA HAYWORTH
NOVEL

Chapter 1
The clang of the alarm faded to white noise.
Riga stood in an empty hallway. Long rows of
lockers and red-painted classroom doors extended
into the distance. A corridor branched ahead to the
right. Above its twin metal doors a sign flickered
red: PEN.
She walked closer. The light flashed, strong
then weak, and she saw that the O had gone
completely dark.
The halls reminded her of her old high school.
She was supposed to be somewhere, but she
couldnt remember the room number. And there
was someone
Her chest squeezed. The babies. Oh, God.
Shed left them. Where were they? She pushed
through the door, ran down one corridor and
another, slamming through heavy doors. What kind
of mother abandoned her children?

THE HERMETIC DETECTIVE

Sheesh, a man said from behind her. When


youre asleep, you dont know youre dreaming.
When youre awake, you dont know youre alive.
Youve gotta remember the details, doll face.
Skidding to a halt, she spun around, gaped.
Vinnie?
The ghost slouched against a locker. Darkhaired and dapper in his white sailors uniform, he
grinned. In the spirit.
This is a dream. She slumped, relieved. And
the dream was a recurring one she should have
recognized. Why did she always end up back in
school, late for class, unable to find where she was
supposed to be?
Thats what I said. You got wax in your ears?
Sleep. Shed finally gotten to sleep, and she
was damn well going to enjoy it, even if that stupid
alarm was clamoring in the distance. Please tell me
youre not real, that youre just a figment of my
subconscious. The ghost had a tendency to appear
when trouble was brewing, and she had enough on
her hands with a pair of five-month-olds.
Vinnies eyebrows shot up. Who said your
subconscious aint real?
If youre going to get cryptic, Im leaving.
She focused on her hands, slender and unlined, and
imagined a dream beach. She looked up. Nope, still
in school.
Thats life, doll, a snake biting its own tail.

KIRSTEN WEISS

Riga groaned. You used to be more direct.


Dont tell me my guardian angel has turned into a
mystic.
Not your guardian, the big guys. You twove
got cute rug rats, by the way.
Are they
Theyre sleeping like babies. He smirked.
Now listen up, we dont have much time. Theres
big trouble coming
What sort of trouble?
I just told you, the big kind.
If your Donovans guardian angel, why dont
you invade his dreams?
Because A: hes not sleeping right now, and B:
he wont let me, and C: I aint no angel. He leered.
Really? Riga digested that. How was her
husband able to block the ghost? Donovan had
never displayed any overtly magical powers. But
there was something A power fizzing just beneath
his skin. But why?
Whipping off his sailors hat, he smacked his
thigh. Dames! They wont stop flapping their
jaws. He shook his fist at the ceiling. Whens this
penance gonna be done? Dont a guy deserve to rest
in peace?
She folded her arms and discovered her dream
self was wearing her new favorite outfit, a linen
blazer over wide-legged, black linen pants. Lets
get this over with. Tell me. How bad?
He rubbed his face. Do you know how many
people died at Pearl, Riga?
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THE HERMETIC DETECTIVE

Pearl Harbor? Her arms loosened, dropped


to her sides. Vinnie didnt joke about Pearl. Over
2,500 people had died there, some his friends. And
she couldnt remember the last time hed called her
by her name. Had he ever? What are you telling
me?
That its terrifying what a coordinated attack
can do.
And whos coordinating?
Thats the question.
Youre telling me you dont know the
answer? Riga asked, disbelieving.
No. He paced between lockers. But theres
rules.
Then whats the good of this warning?
His shoulders hunched. I know, I know. Just
dont take nothing for granted. Dont believe
nothing and no one, got it?
That went without saying. Her husband,
Donovan, was the only person she trusted
completely. But
Too late. Now wake up.
Vinnie
WAKE UP.

KIRSTEN WEISS

She twitched in the soft lounge chair and


blinked at the two cribs, the shelves of childrens
books and stuffed animals, the slowly spinning
mobile of stars and planets. One crib stood vacant,
the twins preferring to share. Riga was desperate
enough for sleep to let them have their way. She
could see them now through the bars of their crib,
their little faces peaceful. Her heart went gooey.
Dream fading, she raked a hand through her
auburn hair, checked her watch. Ten A.M. Her
favorite outfit had been replaced. Soft, black knit
pants, a button-up shirt in the same fabric, a slim
belt around her waist. Comfort clothes. She tossed
one end of a forest-green scarf over her shoulder.
She might be a new mom, but she hadnt thrown in
the towel on fashion yet.
A tail thumped on the carpet. Her Rhodesian
Ridgeback, Oz, looked up at her, hopeful.
Whipping the burp towel off her shoulder, she
leaned over and scratched behind the massive dogs
ears.
His tail thumped louder.
The twins were safe, and shed been dreaming
about What?
She glanced to the door. The light above it
blinked red.
Muffling a curse, she stumbled from the
lounge chair and grabbed her handgun off the end
table. Her fear mixed with something she preferred
not to identify.
Excitement.
5

THE HERMETIC DETECTIVE

About the Author


Kirsten Weiss worked overseas for nearly fourteen
years, in the fringes of the former USSR and deep in
the Afghan war zone. Her experiences abroad not
only gave her glimpses into the darker side of
human nature, but also sparked an interest in the
effects of mysticism and mythology, and how both
are woven into our daily lives.
Now based in San Mateo, CA, she writes
paranormal mysteries, blending her experiences and
imagination to create a vivid world of magic and
mayhem.
Kirsten has never met a dessert she didnt like, and
her guilty pleasures are watching True Blood and
drinking good wine.
Follow her on Twitter @KirstenWeiss or on her blog
at http://kirstenweiss.com, where you can sign up
for her newsletter.

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