The reluctant renfield, p.6
The Reluctant Renfield, page 6
I knelt down next to Boone and hugged his big red body. “You are amazing. The best bloodhound of all the bloodhounds.”
He huffed in amusement.
“Yeah, I know you know that, but you’ve helped us so much and sometimes we don’t tell you how wonderful you are. We’ve got a place to start, all because of you.”
That perked him up, so I gave him a final squeeze.
The front door opened and closed, which had me envisioning bad guys returning to the scene.
“That’s Star,” Alex reassured me. “I called her when I did my initial search of the house. By the way, it’s been searched.”
“Someone searched the office?” I scanned the tidy room. Nothing appeared out of place, and there was even a laptop sitting front and center on Victor’s desk.
“The whole house. There are signs here and there throughout the place.”
“The pool of blood,” I replied as I reconciled what he’d just told me with the evidence in the living room. “Victor was attacked, and while he was still alive, bleeding in his living room, his attacker searched the house.”
Alex made a sound of agreement. He’d already sorted that out.
Star appeared in the entry of the office, looking fresh and well-rested. Even more, she looked downright chipper. Her blonde, no-nonsense bob was shiny, her face free from dark circles and other signs of strain, and she even had a hint of a smile on her face. “Good afternoon, my lovelies.”
I wasn’t sure she’d ever called me her lovely before. No, pretty sure she hadn’t.
“Retirement from the funeral home looks good on you.” I felt free to comment on her appearance only because I’d lost some of the awe I’d always experienced in Star’s presence. She was still a little scary, a lot competent, and extremely powerful, but she was also my friend.
“Bite your tongue. The R-word doesn’t even exist in my personal vocabulary. And anyway, I’m still doing Society autopsies and coordinating all of the enhanced funeral arrangements, so I’m still there part-time. No, it’s actually my little darlings who have me in such an excellent state of mind.”
“The kids are doing well?” Alex’s tone implied surprise.
I nudged him discreetly with an elbow, but Star laughed. “Not even a little. Every single one of the little menaces is grounded at the moment. Which means, I don’t have to worry what nonsense they’re getting up to and all of their chores are done on time. It’s my version of heaven and should last another three days.”
Star had four children. How could they possibly all be grounded?
She grinned at the look on my face. “Don’t look so appalled. They deserve every bit of magical surveillance I currently have attached to their scheming selves. Individually, they’re a little mischievous; together they could overthrow a small nation.”
Which begged the question: what exactly had they done?
But Star didn’t leave any time for further chitchat. She got right to the point, enumerating the various charms she’d already put in place before even entering the house.
We had surveillance. Not that she could livestream the place magically or anything quite so visual. She’d get a warning if the house was disturbed.
She’d also fiddled with the entire street’s perception. “Don’t give me that look, Alex. It’s mild and much better than having to wipe some nosy neighbor’s memory, or worse, a cop’s.”
Fair enough, because she’d been the one who’d had to alter Detective Ruiz’s memory not so very long ago. We’d all liked Gabe. A lot. It hadn’t been easy for her, I’m sure.
Alex arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t say a word.”
Star’s gaze narrowed. “Don’t be ridiculous. You said all the words, just not aloud. I used a memory fog. It’s one of my newer inventions. It will create a haze around the comings and goings of this particular house. Not retroactive, but since there weren’t any blue and red flashing lights to be seen when I arrived, I think we’re fine.”
“I’m fairly certain the house has been searched,” Alex said. “Can you keep an eye out for what they might have been looking for when you process the scene?”
“Hmm. That would explain why your victim was left alive long enough to surrender a few pints of blood.” She’d passed through the living room. Of course she’d made note of its contents.
Alex nodded. “To ensure that whatever the attacker was searching for was found before he died. It’s difficult to extract information from a dead man.”
“Attacker? We’re still holding out hope the victim is alive?” She held up her hand. “You know what? Never mind. You’ll give me a heads-up if there’s a body; until then, I’m hanging onto my good mood. Victor Smalls could have survived that blood loss.” Her lips thinned. “Probably.”
“You know Bitsy Jenkins is helping us with this case?” Alex asked. “She has a connection to the victim.”
“Not that we’d assume he was dead if he wasn’t Bitsy’s friend. There’s no body and signs of violence, so we’d try to find him even if Bitsy didn’t know him.” I hoped.
Hard to say with the Society. If Bitsy hadn’t had a vision and pitched a fit about finding Victor right away, we probably wouldn’t even be involved. And under normal circumstances, if it looked like a human had been murdered and there was no reveal scandal imminent and no strong magical connection, the Society would likely walk away and let the human cops handle it.
Fine. The fact that Victor was Bitsy’s friend was highly relevant.
Star’s expression said it all. I was delusional to even suggest pure motives on the Society’s behalf and was showing signs of my fluffy bunny underbelly. “To answer your earlier question, Alex, yes, I’ll see if there are any clues to point at what they were searching for. As for Bitsy, where is she?”
“Next door,” I replied. “Her house is the one with the red door.”
Star tilted her head. “How’d you all get here?”
Alex frowned. “In Mallory’s car. The one that should be parked in Bitsy’s driveway.”
Star’s eyes crinkled with amusement, though she was wise enough not to crack a smile. “You don’t say.”
8
BETTER THAN POETRY AND FLOWERS
Bitsy stole my car.
We left Star to her work, hopeful she’d find some magical evidence of our bad guy’s identity. She would pack up everything Bradley could mine for clues, laptop and cell phone included, comb the house for magical residue, collect samples of the blood, and do whatever else was necessary to process the scene.
We didn’t tell her that the person we were looking for happened to have bound to themselves an elemental, spirit, or demon that was also bound to Alex.
Alex stayed silent on the subject, and that wasn’t my can of worms to open.
And while Star was busy being productive, we were looking at an empty driveway.
I knocked. No answer.
Tried the door. Locked.
As Alex got Bitsy’s voicemail for the fourth time and hung up yet again, I pointed to her front door. “Can we at least go inside and pace and stew?”
“I’m not pacing and stewing. I’m walking while dialing her phone number.”
Since I couldn’t get in without Alex’s help, I added a very convincing, “Please.” And in case that didn’t work, I also reminded him that Star’s fog probably didn’t extend this far.
“Right.” He unlocked her front door with a wave of his hand.
Boone and I headed for the kitchen. Might as well hydrate while we waited.
Once I’d had a glass of filtered water from Bitsy’s fancy fridge and Boone had helped himself to the bowl we’d left out for him earlier, we both returned to the living room to find Alex still pacing and stewing—and repeat dialing her number.
“She’s not going to answer. She stole the car because she was pissed.”
We’d offended her with that whole “wait next door” order. She might know that Alex had dabbled in alchemy, but she didn’t know the particulars. She couldn’t possibly understand the sensitive nature the inquiry had taken, even if she understood his desire for privacy. So from her perspective, we were shutting her out with very little cause.
He pocketed his phone. “I can’t believe I never even considered she’d hare off without us.”
“She won’t be gone for long. She wouldn’t delay our investigation.”
“Unless she’s investigating on her own.”
“Doubtful,” I replied. We’d just uncovered a clue, hence booting her out to discuss the particulars. She’d be keen to grill us about whatever we discovered in her absence.
And she’d have told us if she’d suddenly remembered relevant information pointing to another clue.
Probably.
Hopefully.
Ugh, she really did hate both of us. She might actually be off chasing some tangent we hadn’t considered.
What had I been saying earlier? Something about adjusting my attitude…
In an attempt to shift said attitude into an upward trajectory, I said, “While she’s gone, we should at least finish working our way through the implications of an attacker who’s bound to one of the same nasties as you. The person we’re looking for—”
Boone nudged my hand.
I took in his eager, hopeful expression. “You know something else about the attacker.”
He was sitting, but his tail swished along the floor, indicating that he most certainly did.
Our inquiry of Boone’s findings had been cut off by Star’s arrival, and it seemed my furry friend with the freakishly awesome nose had more information for us.
I reviewed my words for a clue as to what I’d missed. I’d mentioned “the person” and we’d also used “attacker” rather than making assumptions about whether our bad guy was in fact a guy. “Do you know if they’re a man or woman?”
Boone wagged his tail.
“Man?”
His tail wagged.
“Any other details? Age? Illnesses, diet?” Alex asked.
Those questions received no response.
I reached down to give him some scratches. “Good job.”
Alex scanned the furniture, then sat down on a cream-colored sofa. Immediately, he invited Boone up to sit next to him. A small act of retribution, perhaps, because it would be covered in red bloodhound hairs in less than a minute. Bitsy’s house had the air of a person who was exceptionally tidy.
“Whoever we’re looking for has the same ability to bind nasties as you. What does that say about him?” I settled in an armchair not far from the sofa.
“He’s probably a wizard, but there’s no guarantee. He’ll be either young and stupid…” He tilted his head, the implication being like himself when he’d chosen a similar path so many years ago.
“Or?” I prompted when he paused.
“Or… I don’t know, unhinged? He’d have to be to accept the risks knowingly.”
There was a third and obvious alternative. One that Alex might not be seeing because of his history.
I chewed on my lip, considering my words. “He wouldn’t have to be insane, just desperate for power.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “And they call you the fluffy bunny.”
Not as much as they used to, but yes, the general populace within the Society considered me to be a fangless, powerless, fluffy freak with a heavy dollop of air-headed optimism on the side. They were partially correct. But then, like Alex, I had my secrets.
“It’s not like you to think so well of people,” I countered. He was the cynic to my usual bubbling optimism. Not today, though. “You’re assuming anyone who was aware of and truly understood the risks would choose not to make the same choices you did.”
“Fair enough. Young and stupid, unhinged, or so power hungry he’d risk a lifetime combating possession by the very creatures whose power he craved.”
I wanted to snuggle with him on the sofa, hug him, and let him know that he was loved, but now wasn’t the time, and Alex knew that anyway.
We might have struggled to communicate well when working together at one point, but that wasn’t the work issue we’d been facing recently. I didn’t want him hurt and I hated seeing work stress him out. His feelings on the matter reciprocated my own. But the alternative was not working together, so we’d deal. And—shocker—we’d openly discussed the issue and reached that conclusion together.
Boone picked up on Alex’s tension and plopped his huge head in Alex’s lap. Boone-cuddles weren’t too shabby, slobber aside. They’d do for now.
“Should we request a list of all the registered wizards in the area?” I didn’t reach for my phone, because that was a Cornelius task, not something Bradley would do, and Alex was the best person to make requests of the boss man.
“Not helpful. The registrations may or may not be up to date. Many wizards don’t settle in one area, instead moving every few months. And we’re not even sure our attacker is a wizard, just that he’s been practicing the darker forms of alchemy. Wizards have a natural affinity for alchemic magic, but there are others who practice it. I have a local resource that might be helpful. Not a wizard, not exactly. He’s an academic.”
“Like, a professor?”
He made a sound of agreement. “He teaches a few classes at UT as an adjunct. For fun,” he clarified, when I gave him an inquisitive look because adjuncts were typically part-time, not career academics. “He’s a retired professor with an interest in alchemy.”
“Human?”
“Not entirely. He’s technically a low-level wizard, but he never spent much time pursuing his talents. He’s more interested in theory than practice, but he’s well-versed in the topic and, more importantly, is involved in the local community.”
“Which you are not,” I guessed.
“Not in the slightest.”
Alex would avoid all things alchemic if he had a choice, but it simply wasn’t possible. The choices of yesterday impacted the business of living today. Also, there was the occasional overlap with his work as an emergency responder.
As for his source, who knew there was a local community of budding alchemists? Not a comforting thought given what I knew of the subject. I’d try to refrain from prejudging, since I’d had enough of that myself as a “broken” vampire.
Alex was on the phone with his mystery source when the front door opened and in walked Bitsy.
Since Alex was busy setting up a meet, I was left to deal with Bitsy.
Hands on hips, I said, “You stole my car.”
“Borrowed. And I was craving juice.” She shrugged like it was no big deal that she’d…
Stolen a car—which was a very big deal.
Without the keys—which was sort of talented, though I tamped down any respect for her felonious skills.
And here was the kicker: she’d done it all to kill a craving for juice. Juice, not blood. Since when did vampires—other than me—crave anything besides blood?
“Stop with the death stares. I was at the corner store. I couldn’t take my car, because the battery’s dead.”
I believed her battery was dead. I also believed her juice craving. It was too strange not to be true. But she was leaving something out. She had to be, because the woman who’d been thus far so desperately worried for her friend wouldn’t just wander away from the investigation for juice.
Which is exactly what Alex said when he accused her of lying the second he ended his phone conversation.
Instead of blowing up at Alex, Bitsy stopped and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she looked a bit lost. “If I tell you the truth, can we just get on with finding Victor?”
Alex offered a curt nod.
“I was going to look for him, but my car wouldn’t start. It really does have a dead battery. So I took yours.” She glanced in my direction.
“Going to look for him…where?” I asked, because if she had a lead, she hadn’t shared it with us.
She shrugged. “Don’t know. But I couldn’t sit and do nothing while you two just talked and talked and talked.” She tensed. “It’s getting closer and we’re not any nearer to finding him.”
She meant the phone call, of course. The one announcing Victor’s corpse was found.
“We’ll get a list of clients, friends, and family from our tech support guy,” I explained. “And he’ll look for any sort of digital evidence regarding Victor’s whereabouts, abnormalities in his life, strife, that sort of thing. In the interim, we’ll follow up on Alex’s hunch.”
“We’re not bringing her.” There was no room for argument in Alex’s tone. He was channeling implacable with a side of don’t-mess-with-me.
Not that we’d have brought her along to an interview with an expert in alchemy anyway, but Alex’s mood hadn’t been improved by her aborted attempt at investigating.
“What can I do?” she asked.
We both stared. Was she trying to be helpful?
“I’m serious. Tell me what you want me to do. I need to help.”
I blinked, considered her sincerity, then held up a finger. I retrieved my phone from my back pocket and called Star. “I’ve got an extra set of hands ready for work. Any chance you could use some help?”
With Star babysitting her, I doubted she’d get into much trouble, and this way she’d also feel useful.
“Are you trying to stick me with a moody vampire?” Contrary to her words, her tone was pleasant enough.
“She should be a piece of cake compared to what you’re used to dealing with. Four preteens trumps one moody vampire.”
I swallowed a grin at the look on Bitsy’s face. She wasn’t a fan of the label Star had affixed to her.
“It’s worse than that. Addy’s a teenager. Next year she’s going to start looking at colleges. How did I get this old?” She heaved out a sigh that I couldn’t interpret.
Unless… Was she missing her kid that was still living with her? Mind-boggling.
I didn’t have long to speculate, because Star was back to her no-nonsense self with barely any pause. “Send her over. I’ll set her to work on an inventory of the office. Most of the attacker’s search was concentrated there. If we’re lucky, he didn’t find what he was looking for.”
