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“Sounds good. I’m finished up here,” Jill a
I pushed the desk drawers closed and picked up the laptop case. “Lemme give Ryan a call and tell him what’s going on.”
“Meet you downstairs.”
I nodded to her then called Ryan. “So, get this,” I said after he answered. “I think I have a homicide where the victim was thrown out a window by the same thing that attacked Lida. Or rather, the same type of thing.” I gave him a quick synopsis of what I had and who the victim was. “At first I thought that maybe Vic was in the wrong place at the wrong time and that Roger was really the target since he often worked out up here, but then I found copies of some NSF checks from Adam Taylor to Mr. Kerry.”
Ryan made a hmmphing noise. “You sure don’t go for the simple cases, do you?”
I laughed. “Where’s the fun in that? But it’s also possible that the thing with the checks is totally unrelated, and that the entire band is being targeted, one by one. But even if there’s no co
“Did I miss something?” he said, sounding puzzled. “Why do we need a ‘legitimate reason’?” I could hear the quote marks in his voice.
“Oh, that’s right,” I replied, a note of acid creeping in. “I haven’t spoken to you yet today to bring you up to speed on Ben Moran speaking to the chief and the mayor.”
“Do tell,” he growled.
I gave him the gist of my meeting with the chief.
“I like your chief,” Ryan said gruffly after I finished.
I smiled. “Yeah, he’s all right. But now that I have a possible homicide, all bets are off. Ether Madhouse is rehearsing at Adam’s studio every night this week, and Ben Moran and the mayor can kiss my ass.”
“You’re becoming quite the rebel, aren’t you?” he said with a laugh.
“You feds are rubbing off on me.”
“About damn time. So did you want to hit the rehearsal tonight?”
Grimacing, I glanced at my watch. “Ugh. It’s four already? I don’t think I’ll be able to tonight. I have no idea how much longer I’ll be here. I want to run a search of the victim’s residence tonight as well.” Sleep? Who needed sleep?
“Stop being coy. I know how much you love all of that paperwork.” I could hear the grin in his voice.
“Wow, we have a bad co
“That’s cool. Zack’s in New Orleans right now anyway, picking up some paperwork from the bureau office there.”
“Maybe we should sic Zack on Lida. She’ll melt beneath his charms,” I said, laughing.
“As if he needs any more reason to be cocky.”
Chapter 13
I locked the office and returned downstairs right as the coroner’s black van pulled up. I suppressed a laugh as I saw the driver exiting the van with a pair of lopping shears in his hand. Sarge had obviously tipped off the coroner’s office as to the inaccessibility of the body.
Jill was finished with her pictures of the area, including shots of the exterior of the building. She retreated to give the van driver access to the hedge, but he hesitated, eyeing the thick bushes. He slid a hopeful glance to me.
“Any chance you have a chainsaw in your car?” he asked.
I had to grin. “Sorry!”
“Worth a try,” he said with a rueful smile as he stepped forward, lopping shears at the ready. It took him several minutes to hack his way through the hedge, and I had to agree that a chainsaw would have been more efficient. The damage to the bushes would have been about the same.
Once the brush was cleared away, Jill stepped forward to take more pictures, and then I had the chance to take a decent look at the victim. Unfortunately my better view of the body didn’t give me any new and fascinating insights. He was still bloated and maggoty. No previously unseen bullet wounds or arcane symbols. But I took a mental note of the fact that he was still wearing his jacket. He’d probably been attacked as soon as he arrived at the office in the morning or right when he was leaving.
The coroner’s perso
“All right, chick,” Jill said. “I’m done with my part, and I’ve seen you too much today. I’m go
“Love you too, bitch,” I replied, smiling.
She gri
A chill wind hit me as I turned the corner, briefly robbing me of breath in shock at the abrupt change in temperature. It was a mild day, but that blast of air felt practically arctic. It faded as soon as it hit me, leaving behind an eerie calm that sent the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. That feels like the wind from a summoning. The thought snaked through my head even as a whisper of arcane brushed past me.
I turned slowly, completely u
A nauseating ripple of menace passed through me and I edged toward the building, instinctively wanting something solid and real at my back. I shifted into othersight, sca
Stucco dug into my back as I pressed against the building. I could feel my pulse speeding as the odd coil of potency seemed to tighten and coalesce in front of me. Shit. Is someone controlling this? There was no one in sight. And what the hell was it anyway? I still couldn’t see anything tangible.
Stop panicking and start doing something! I railed at myself. Pressed up against the building like this, I was an easy target for whatever was happening. Plus, I was pretty much powerless. Too bad I don’t have a portable version of the storage diagram. I felt a lovely little ping at the thought, but I pushed it aside. Now wasn’t the time to figure out how to accomplish something like that. If it was even possible.
I shoved off the wall and took off at a dead run for my car. I had no idea if I’d be any safer there, but visions raced through my head of other arcane dangers I’d faced, and the sanctuary of steel and plastic was better than nothing at all. I could sense the malevolence swirl behind me, as if snapping at my heels.
I heard the distant screech of tires on pavement and the thrum of an engine, and the thought flashed through my head that I might escape this unknown thing chasing me only to get hit by a car. But I also had the unshakeable sense that getting hit by a car would hurt less.
I heard a squeal of brakes, and suddenly a car slammed to a stop a few feet in front of me. The driver threw the passenger door open. “Get in!” he shouted u
I took a heaving gasp of relief, terror shifting to amazement that I’d somehow escaped the thing chasing me. Then I looked up and processed who my rescuer was.
Cory Crawford glanced first at me, then in the rearview mirror, lips pressed together in a thin line beneath his mustache. “You okay?” he asked, words clipped.