by Carly Fall
As if she was going to believe that.
She took a step back, raised her hand, and sent one of her beloved potted plants soaring across the room at him. He blocked it with his forearm, the shards of the vase and the black potting soil scattering onto the beige carpet.
He grunted as he shook out his arm, his face contorted in pain. Avery glanced around searching for something bigger and beefier to hurt him with, then made a mental plan of her getaway route. First, to the bedroom, then down the fire escape. If she could make it to Victoria’s, she’d be safe. Except on rare occasions, shifters hated vampires, and the feeling was returned with force.
“Dammit!” he yelled as she sent another plant across the room. She used the distraction to run into the bedroom and lock the door.
As she struggled to open the window, she heard heavy footsteps in her apartment. Her fingers dug into the wood, the tips turning white as she pulled. She cursed the rushed paint job she’d done six months ago. Apparently, while admiring the pretty seafoam green decor, she’d painted the damned window shut.
“We aren’t here to hurt you,” a deep, muffled voice called through the door. “I came to apologize.”
What?
“Jake’s a member of my pack,” he continued. “When I heard what he did, I tore his hide. It wasn’t cool, Avery.”
She stilled and turned toward the door, her anxiety lessening.
“I just wanted to tell you he wouldn’t be bothering you any longer. Although our kinds have a history of not trusting each other, he never should have been so vicious.”
Her breathing slowed further, but her heart still fluttered in her chest. A shifter apologizing for a member of his pack? Was this some type of trick?
“We’re going now,” he called.
She listened as the sound of them leaving echoed toward her front door. Then she heard it shut. For a few moments, she remained in place waiting for the panel to be kicked in. If that happened, she’d have to fight for her life.
Instead, all she heard was silence.
As her adrenaline ebbed, leaving her feeling shaky, Avery tiptoed toward the bedroom door and pressed her ear against it. Nothing but quiet on the other side.
After a moment, she slowly eased the door open, fully expecting to be jumped by the shifters.
Instead, Avery was met with an empty apartment, and a mess.
Methodically, she searched the space. There weren’t many places for two huge men to hide in the small, one-bedroom unit, and she cleared all of them within a couple of moments. Only remnants of the rotting garbage smell remained.
She sighed and sank down onto the couch, staring at the black dirt smeared on the beige carpet.
At least she didn’t have to worry about Jake coming after her. If the pack wanted revenge for what she’d done, they’d had their chance to take it, and they hadn’t. She wouldn’t have to look over her shoulder any longer, which left her time to focus on the rest of the mess her life had become.
Tomorrow, she’d go to the police station to see what progress the investigators had made with finding a suspect. Normally, she would clean up the mess she’d made but suddenly lacked any energy. Between the wine, seeing her mother at the morgue, and the visit from the pack, exhaustion ripped through her, causing heavy limbs and fluttering eyelids—but her heart still thundered, keeping her awake. Avery simply couldn’t do another thing. She stretched out on the couch and prayed for sleep.
6
Was Avery really a suspect in her mother’s murder?
As she walked the perimeter of the small white room that housed a metal table and two chairs, it certainly seemed like it.
Detective McAllister had called and woken her that morning, asking her to come down to the station. She’d risen from the couch where she’d slept all night, quickly showered, and caught a bus. She wasn’t sure what she had expected when she arrived but being brought into a room with a door that locked from the outside certainly hadn’t been it. It didn’t take her long to realize they’d made her wait in an interrogation room.
She leaned her head against the door and listened to voices and footsteps as people walked by. Avery wondered if they’d forgotten about her. Pulling out her phone, she noted she’d been waiting for ten minutes. It seemed like ten hours.
Anxiety curled her stomach. She wasn’t comfortable in small spaces or being locked in. The only reason they would do that was if they believed she had something to do with her mother’s murder. The thought stressed her out more. She was a Fae, for the sake of all the gods. She thrived in freedom, wide-open spaces, and roaming the forest as she pleased. It was built into her DNA. This tiny, miserable room seemed more like a jail cell!
She began to pace, and a few moments later, the door clicked. McAllister walked in.
“Hey, Avery. How’re you feeling this morning?” he asked.
“Do you think I killed my mother?” she blurted out. “Because I didn’t. I had nothing to do with it.”
His brow furrowed as he walked over to the table and laid his black, soft-sided briefcase down on top of it. “Why would you ask me that?”
“Is that what this is?” she asked and gestured around the room. “An interrogation? Isn’t this an interrogation room?”
Her anxiety came out in a high-pitched voice, and she fought to curb it, realizing it only made her sound crazier than she already felt.
McAllister glanced around. “Yes, it is, but I asked the officers to explain why we were meeting in here. I’m sorry if they didn’t.”
“No! No one said anything.”
“Come sit down, Avery. I don’t think you had anything to do with your mother’s murder. The only reason we’re meeting here is because another group is doing some training in the meeting rooms downstairs. I’m sorry no one told you.”
She took a deep breath, then sat down, the old metal chair creaking under her weight. What type of criminals have sat here? Murders? Rapists? Thieves? She shivered at the thought.
The detective opened his case, pulled out two bottled waters and handed her one. She took it, opened it, and gulped. The anxiety had parched her.
McAllister retrieved a pen and a pad of paper from his briefcase, sipped his water, then folded his hands together and smiled.
“Feeling better?”
She nodded. He had a kind face, one that made others want to trust him and believe everything he said. His nose veered slightly to the right, as if it had once been broken. His blue eyes held an air of sympathy, while his smile was genuine and calming. McAllister wore a black suit, white shirt, and a blue tie. It was a simple outfit, but it gave him the appearance of importance. She wondered how many cases he’d cracked because of his honest demeanor.
“Now, I wanted to talk to you about your mom. Have you thought of anyone who would want to hurt her?”
She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest, determined not to cry. “No one.”
“Okay, well, I told you I’d fill you in about whether paranormal entities were involved in your mother’s death, and I can assure you they weren’t.”
She almost told him about the vampire bite, but at the last second decided against it. He hadn’t given her a reason to distrust him, but she couldn’t help feeling he was holding back. Maybe it was the way he wouldn’t meet her gaze, or how his cheeks flushed when he spoke. She couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but something in his body language had set off her internal alarm.
The vampire bite was still the wildcard, and until she uncovered what her mother had been up to, she’d keep that detail to herself.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a manila folder peeking out of his bag. Her mother’s name was plainly written on it.
What could be in there? She supposed all the details of her mother’s case. Her fingertips tingled as she longed to get her hands on it.
Avery glanced up at McAllister and then back to the file. He followed her gaze and quickly shoved the folder inside the case so it couldn’t be s
een.
Whatever was in there, he obviously didn’t want her to see it. But, didn’t she have that right?
Probably not. Police investigation, confidentiality, blah blah blah. It didn’t matter. She needed to see the details of her mother’s file.
McAllister prattled on about how he would keep her up-to-date on any headway they made in the case, but all she could concentrate on was his briefcase. It was as if the simple manila folder called to her, begging her to open it and assist with the investigation.
Could it be her mother trying to communicate with her, telling her the answer lay within the pages?
McAllister stood, the squeak of his chair bringing her out of her reverie. She scrambled to her feet, took his outstretched hand then shook it.
“I’ll walk you out,” he said. Something strange flashed in his eyes, but she couldn’t give it a name. Anger? Maybe, but it was gone before she could identify it.
Avery followed the detective out of the small room and down a hall… keeping an eye on his briefcase. It still seemed to beckon her, asking her to grab it and run, to read the file contained within.
When McAllister came to a stop at the front door of the station, she was so fixated on the file, she ran into the back of him. Standing a full foot taller than her, he grinned down at her.
“Thanks for coming in, Avery,” he said. “I appreciate it. Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?”
She shook her head. “I’m supposed to pick up my mom’s ashes, but I’m not sure I’m up for that.”
He winced as if she’d slapped him across the face. “I’m sorry. I wish there was something more I could do.”
You could let me see that file. “Just keep me updated,” she replied with the best smile she could muster.
“I will. I promise.”
She took one long stride past him out the door.
“Oh! One last thing, Avery,” he called. “We’ve cleared your mother’s apartment. You’re free to go in.”
She nodded and headed outside and down the stairs, not daring to look over her shoulder. Regardless, she could have sworn she felt his stare on her back until she turned the corner.
“Thank you for meeting me, Victoria,” Avery said as she hugged her friend. She was about to enter her mother’s apartment for the first time since she’d been murdered, and she needed all the emotional support she could get.
“I would have come sooner if it wasn’t for the sun and my job,” Victoria replied. “I’m sorry.”
Avery grinned at the vampire. Tall and thin with short, jet black hair, blue eyes, and a golden hoop through her nose, Victoria cut an impressive figure. Avery had seen grown men wither under her ice-cold stare, but underneath all the tattoos and piercings lay a really sweet, loyal friend.
“It’s okay. There was nothing you could do. I’m just glad you can be here to help me now.”
Victoria sighed. “Let’s do it.”
With shaky hands, Avery put the key into the lock. As she pushed open the door, the coppery scent of blood overwhelmed her, and she brought a hand up to cover her mouth and nose as she gagged.
Victoria inhaled deeply. “That’s a lot of blood,” she murmured.
They entered the room and turned on the lights. It was much worse than Avery could have imagined. Either her mother had put up quite a fight, or the police had tossed the place with little regard for personal property.
Lamps lay on the floor. Chairs were overturned. Every drawer in the kitchen had been emptied, the cupboards also open and bare. Glass crunched under her boots with almost every step.
Avery reached down and picked up a photo… taken about a year ago… of her and Mom at the Space Needle. Every now and then they’d pretended they didn’t live in the Emerald City and hit up all the visitor sites. That day, they’d had lunch at the top of the Needle and then went on a Duck Tour, where the bus turned into a boat and drove them across Lake Union. It had been cold and rainy, but the usual weather never dampened their fun and laughter.
Tear stung her eyes, and she carefully removed the photo from the broken frame and set it on the kitchen counter. Avery knew she’d have to go through all of her mother’s belongings and decide what to keep and what to donate. On this day, it seemed like a monumental task, and it weighed heavily on her shoulders.
“Avery, I found the diaries you wanted to look at,” Victoria said as she emerged from the bedroom with three red, leather-bound books. “And, you don’t want to go into that room. That’s where she was killed.”
Her stomach lurched at the thought of seeing the place where her mother had died. She simply couldn’t handle it right now. Too much. She could barely function as it was.
Avery didn’t want to read through her mother’s personal thoughts either, but she also had to know if her mom had been friendly with a vampire.
Reaching out, she accepted the books from Victoria and sat down on the black leather couch. “Thanks. I’ll stay out of there.”
With a deep exhale, she opened the first diary and scanned the pages. Some of it was about Avery. One entry even gave an account of when Melia had found out a volunteer at the church was stealing from the petty cash drawer. The paragraphs were mundane notations of someone who had given her life to helping others. Very little was written about her own existence.
When Avery had thumbed through all three books, she set them aside with a sigh. Without any mention of new friends or lovers, it seemed her mother had been content with the life that had ended so brutally. It was as Avery expected.
As she glanced around the apartment, she couldn’t help but feel more was missing. Yes, the place was trashed, and nothing was where it should have been, but something else was wrong.
“Are you okay?” Victoria asked from behind as she placed her hand on Avery’s shoulder.
She nodded, then stood and paced around trying to figure out what seemed so out of place.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned to her friend. Avery needed to trust someone, to unload her suspicions. “My mom had a vampire bite. Right below her ear.”
Victoria’s perfect eyebrows arched more than usual. “Really? That’s kind of an intimate place for a feeding.”
“I know.”
“Was she… involved with one?”
Avery shook her head. “She never said anything to me about it, and there’s nothing in her diaries.”
“But the cops claim the murder wasn’t committed by a paranormal being?”
“Yes.”
Victoria stared at her for a moment, then turned her gaze to the mess on the floor.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, Vic,” Avery said, anxious butterflies tickling her stomach. Am I crazy? Am I making more out of this than there is?
Victoria sighed then met Avery’s gaze. “I think you’re questioning whether the cops are telling the truth or not, and I don’t blame you. You and your mom were very close, and if she had developed any type of relationship with a vampire, she would have said something to you. Right?”
Relief swelled within Avery, her mouth turning up into the first true smile she’d been able to manage since her mother died. She wasn’t crazy. Victoria agreed with her, and she let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Thank God.
The thought left her feeling as if someone had just slammed her on the forehead with a hammer. Avery glanced around the apartment once again and realized she’d just pinpointed what was missing.
God.
Melia had been openly religious. Her apartment had always been littered with symbols of her faith. The golden crosses on the wall. The golden statue of Mary with baby Jesus. The golden plaque of the Ten Commandments… all of them were gone.
Avery stepped toward the bedroom, but Victoria blocked her path. “I don’t know what’s got your panties in a knot, but I’m not allowing you in that room.”
Grinding her teeth, she knew it was for the best, but it still irritated her. “Fine. You go in there and check he
r jewelry box. She had dozens of gold and silver crosses. Necklaces, earrings, rings… check and see if they are still there.”
Victoria narrowed her gaze but nodded. “I remember. I’ll take a look around, but you have to stay here.”
Avery tried to be patient while pacing the living room. She figured the bedroom must also be trashed when she heard Victoria rummaging around and moving furniture and smaller items.
“Here’s a jewelry box,” Victoria said as she emerged from the room and handed Avery the wooden case with white silk lining. “There’s nothing like you described anywhere. No religious artifacts.”
Avery sat on the couch again and opened the box, then fingered the white silk. None of this made any sense, and it was apparent the police weren’t going to be much help. If a Fae cop could look at an autopsy picture and not notice a vampire bite, he was either incompetent or covering something up.
She needed to see the file McAllister had tucked away into his briefcase.
Avery was broke, unemployed, and in the throes of anxiety with depression creeping up on her.
She had to do something or the darkness would suck her in. She had to know what truly happened to her mother.
A small, niggling idea began to form, and Avery was surprised by the stupidity of it. The more she considered it, the more rational it became.
Taking on the police was probably not the smartest idea, but at this point, what did she have to lose?
She was going to get that file from McAllister … one way or another.
7
This is such a horrible idea.
Going after McAllister’s file had to be the worst plan Avery had ever had, but she was moving forward with it. In fact, the scheme was so bad, she hadn’t even shared it with Victoria. She could practically hear the lecture on poor decisions if the vampire knew what she was up to. Instead, she’d go alone on this one.
As Avery waited outside the police station, the sun had already set. McAllister was working late. She’d been planted on a low, concrete wall since early morning which offered her a view of the front of the station, as well as the back. McAllister came and went, and she’d followed him. After eating lunch by himself at the local sandwich shop, he’d returned to the station, briefcase held tightly in his hand at all times. He hadn’t left since then.
