Fair Game

Leslie cleared her throat.‘I’m Special Agent Fisher of the FBI. He’s Agent Heuter of Cantrip.’

‘Cantrip,’ Caitlin snorted contemptuously. She took a card out of her purse and handed it to him. ‘If you have questions, you can call me at this number. But I’m not Sally Reilly, Agent Heuter. I don’t intend to disappear, so I probably won’t help you at all. And I’ll charge you a lotfor not doing so.’

Brother Wolf sneezed, but A

‘Is there anything else we should know about this?’ asked A

Caitlin looked at the table.‘The sex isn’t part of the ritual.’ She pursed her lips. ‘I don’t know if that’s useful.’

‘The killer keeps the victims alive for a while,’ Leslie said. ‘Seven days, usually. Sometimes a few more or less. Is that important?’

Caitlin frowned.‘That’s probably why the magic functioned, even though he screwed up. He cut the symbols in and left them to work – like a Crock-Pot, you know? Can’t cook very fast at a low temperature, but give it enough time and it gets the job done.’ She huffed. ‘Maybe the sex is because he got bored waiting. If we’re done here, I’d like to go. I have an appointment in half an hour.’

Leslie handed her a card.‘If you think of anything more, please call me.’

‘Sure,’ Caitlin said. Then she turned to A

‘Tell him I’ll buy him di

Caitlin looked disappointed at A

‘You’re going to be late for your appointment if you don’t hurry,’ A

The witch scowled, turned on her heel, and marched out the door. Before she was out of sight, Dr Fuller had the boy’s body back flat on the table and covered protectively. ‘That

’ He sputtered a little, trying to keep his voice down.

‘There are reasons we don’t like witches much,’ A

She thinks the witches killed Sally Reilly.

A

‘You think differently,’ she said.

Shaman’s eyes looked at her, Charles’s eyes, then he closed them and shook himself, as if trying to shake off water after a dip in a lake.I think that she gave a spell to a killer who didn’t want her to talk. The witches wouldn’t have been the only ones to want her dead.

‘A

‘Nothing we can prove just yet,’ A

‘We don’t know anything about Sally Reilly,’ Leslie reminded her. ‘Let alone that she disappeared.’

‘Witchcraft and fae in the same case,’ said Heuter, sounding fascinated and a little excited.

In the small examination room with a dead little boy on the table, A

7

‘I don’t think Fuller is going to let any more witches into his morgue in the near future,’ said Heuter as he bit into the piece of half-raw steak on his fork.

‘That was the creepiest thing I ever saw,’ said Leslie, who was eating her salad and not looking at Heuter. A

‘The witch or Heuter’s bloody steak?’ asked A

‘Heuter’s eating habits are pretty creepy,’ Leslie said. ‘But I was talking about the witch. At least she told us some things we didn’t know.’

After they’d left the morgue, Leslie had called Goldstein with an update. From what A

The waiter’s eyebrows had risen when A

There had been a quick switch in waitstaff, and the new waitress had asked if she could get Brother Wolf a bowl of water (yes)– or if he’d like something else to drink (no). A

‘That was wicked fun, how you yanked the witch’s chain,’ Leslie told her. ‘Until then I hadn’t realized she was just trying to freak us out.’

‘Umm,’ answered A

Brother Wolf looked up and focused on A

‘She wasn’t trying to freak you out,’ A

‘Shot?’ Heuter asked.

A

‘And you need to wait until you’re sure you are going to draw before you reach,’ agreed Leslie. She smiled at A

Something cold came and went in Heuter’s face before he resumed his bland appearance. ‘Right. There’s been some talk about changing that. I’m afraid most of the shooting I’ve done is with a rifle. My folks are from Texas and we have a place in upstate New York where we go hunting every year, too – hunting is a family ritual. But that witch

’

‘Creepy,’ said Leslie with a nod. ‘I wish she had been faking it. Did either of you recognize the name she gave us? Sally Reilly?’

A

Leslie frowned and started to say something, then glanced at Heuter and stuffed her mouth with salad instead.

‘According to Wiki,’ said Heuter, reading from his phone, ‘in 1967, Sally Reilly wrote a book calledMy Little Gray Story Book.’ He looked up and gri