Restless Dead in the Realms of Imagination Anthology
Teag Logan, my assistant store manager, best friend, and occasional bodyguard, sauntered over. "For all your curiosity, I notice you haven't touched it," he observed, raising an eyebrow. Teag knows about my psychic gift, and he's got some gifts of his own. He's a Weaver, able to weave magic into the warp and woof of fabric, and able to weave data streams together to find information. It makes him an unbeatable researcher and an unstoppable hacker.
It was the middle of a cloudy autumn afternoon, the day before Halloween. The main tourist season was over, and since clouds threatened rain, walk-in traffic had been sparse. I left Maggie, our part-time assistant in charge of watching the door. Teag picked up the hand wheel and we headed to the break room in the back.
"I still can't figure out why a sewing machine piece would be in a sinkhole," I said. Teag put the steel wheel on the table and poured me a glass of ice-cold s...