I said them out loud and he nodded. "Don't think of them as three numbers, think of them as six numbers. One, four, two, nine, six and three. With that in mind, what are the two lowest numbers?"
I glanced at them again. "One and two."
He nodded. "Good. And the next lowest?"
"Three and four."
"Good, good. And the two highest?"
"Six and nine."
"You got it," he said, giving me a half smile.
"Twelve, thirty-four and sixty-nine?"
He nodded. "You're the first person I've ever given the key to. Not even to my own son."
"How old's your son?"
"Twenty-one. But it's too soon to give him the key. My father gave it to me on his deathbed."
"I feel honored," I said, and meant it.
We stared at it some more. He made no move to open it, and I certainly wasn't about to. Somewhere down the hall, one of his piles of junk shifted, groaning, as boulders do in the deserts. The piano, I saw, was gone.
The light particles behind Charlie began coagulating and taking on shape, and shortly, two very faint old men appeared behind him. I noticed the hair on Charlie's arm immediately stood on end, as his body registered the spiritual presence of his father and grandfather, even if his mind hadn't. Charlie absently rubbed his arms.
"Well, let's get on with it," he said, and reached down for the safe.
As he did so, I said, "You really don't want to open the safe, do you, Charlie?"
"I do. Really, I do. A deal's a deal, and I want to pay you. Your half."
"But wouldn't you rather pass it along to your own boy?"
"Without you, Ms. Moon, I would have nothing to pass on to my kid. Besides, it's really a silly tradition."
"No, it's not. It's about family."
"We've been keeping this thing going for years and it's impractical at best, like a joke from beyond the grave."
"I think it's an amazing tradition," I said.
He didn't say it, but his body language suggested he thought so, too. He said, "Well, it is kind of fun not knowing what's in this thing. I mean, it could be anything, right? But I suppose it's time to find out once and for all?"
He made a move for the safe again, but he didn't get very far, mostly because I grabbed his wrist. He shivered at my cold touch.
I said, "This isn't right."
"A deal's a deal, Ms. Moon. Besides, I have no other way of repaying you."
I thought about that, then looked around. "Not true. You have enough junk to stock a dozen houses. There's got to be something in here that I want."
"What are you saying, Ms. Moon?"
"I'm saying, let me pick something out of your junk, and the safe is yours. Keep it in your family. Pass it along to your son."
He processed that information, and I saw the relief ripple through him and his shining aura. "Are you sure?"
"As sure as I've ever been."
"But aren't you a little bit curious what's in the safe?"
"More than you know," and as I said those words, I briefly closed my eyes, and expanded my consciousness throughout the room, and as I did so, two things made me gasp.
The first was the contents of the safe, which I saw clearly. The second was what I saw resting inside a wooden box deep under a pile of newspapers.
Charlie was watching me curiously. "Are you okay?"
"Er, yes," I said, then patted him on the shoulder. "I would suggest you find a much better place for your safe."
"I will."
"A very safe place."
"You think the contents are valuable?"
I thought of the two old spirits, Charlie's father and grandfather. I thought of Charlie's own son and the unique bond that kept the generations connected. The safe. I also saw in my mind's eye the tightly rolled vellum document that might just be the rarest of all American documents, a document signed by our founding fathers, centuries ago. A document thought to be lost...until now.
Then again, I could be wrong.
Next, I moved through the piles of junk and headed to the far corner of the room. There, I began moving aside old newspapers and magazines, until I finally uncovered an ornately carved box.
I picked it up carefully, my hands trembling.
Slowly, I opened the lid...
Unbelievable.
Inside was another golden medallion. This time, the three roses were cut from brilliant amethysts.
Charlie was looking over my shoulder. "Oh, that. I got it at an estate sale a while back. In Fullerton. Get this, some old guy was murdered by some nut with a crossbow. Anyway, it's gold, I think. Probably worth a lot. I've been keeping it for a rainy day." He paused. "Truth be known, it kind of gives me the creeps. You can have it if you want."
I closed the lid and held out my hand. "Merry Christmas."
But Charlie had other designs on me. He wrapped me in a huge, smothering hug. "Merry Christmas, Ms. Moon!"
Chapter Fifteen
With the box sitting safely on the seat next to me, I had just pulled out of Charlie's mobile home park when my cell rang. It was Fang.
"Merry Christmas," I said.
"That sounds odd coming from a vampire," said Fang.
"Why, because I'm a creature of the night?"
"Something like that."
"I'll remind you that Santa does his best work at night."
"Santa isn't real."
"I thought the same about vampires," I said. "And someone recently told me that if people believe in something hard enough and long enough, it becomes true."
Fang laughed. "Enough about Santa Claus. I've got news. Your watcher friend is likely a fallen angel."
"He's no demon, Fang."
"Have you ever met a demon, Moon Dance?"
"I don't know," I said, recalling meeting Kingsley in my hotel room when he had fully transformed into a werewolf. The thing living inside him was as close to a demon as I've ever met. "I just know he's not evil."
"At least not yet."
"What, exactly, is a fallen angel?"
"A spiritual being that no longer commits itself to helping others evolve. In fact, quite the opposite."
"A being who helps others devolve?"
"Close. A being who spreads fear. Living in fear, any kind of fear, separates the individual from the Creator."
My head began to throb. Headaches, for me, rarely lasted more than a few minutes. I chewed my lip and drove and didn't like any of this. I said, "And so, what, one day he decides to turn bad?"