“So, what, Amarok’s handiwork?”
“Or the vamps,” I say, thinking about Travis and his attempt to kill me. “Consider this. He stole silver. Maybe they want to collect all the silver in the city to burn it down so it can’t be used against them.”
He tilts his head to the side. “Possible but it’s a stretch.”
“I know, sir, but it’s worth asking him.”
He nods and shuts the door.
I inch closer to the mirror to watch.
“Diamond. I have a strange question to ask, but this entire scenario is strange, so bear with me.”
I wince. Why mention that it’s a strange question? But the lieutenant has questioned five million more suspects than I have. He knows what he’s doing. Probably trying to build a slight rapport with Diamond.
“Go ahead. I probably won’t know the answer though.”
Diamond lowers his head. His shoulders are slumped. This is eating away at him. He’s terrified. I can’t imagine what he’s thinking. He has no priors, not even a parking ticket or speeding fine. Squeaky clean. An accountant. Kinda boring. Married with no kids. Renting to own a place.
Somehow, he got screwed up into something supernatural. Vamps? Or something else? Does it have any connection to the war brewing between vamps and wolves?
“I told you everything already,” Diamond says. “I had dinner with my wife. We went out shopping. We returned home and watched a movie. Afterward, we had some ice cream and went to bed. Next thing I know, I’m waking up and going to work only to be arrested and brought here.”
“Did you hear anything last night that you recall?” the lieutenant asks. “What’s the last thing you heard before you don’t remember anything? Before you went to bed maybe?”
Diamond rubs his goatee. “You know what? As I fell asleep, I did hear something. I thought it was my wife at first, but she had already fallen asleep.”
“What was it? What did you hear? A voice? What did it say?” The lieutenant hides his eagerness well.
As for me, I’m so excited I almost start to dance. I heard the voice, but not clearly enough to know what it was saying. I’m dying with curiosity.
“It wasn’t a voice. It was a so—”
Diamond’s eyes flash from brown to silver. He sits up straight as a board as if someone inserted a rod down his spine.
Then he slams his face onto the table. Again and again. Blood flies everywhere. The lieutenant leaps to his feet, but it doesn’t matter. He’s too late.
Diamond found a way to kill himself.
Chapter 11
Once the body is removed, the lieutenant calls all of the members of the Special Investigative Unit into his office. He briefly runs down the events to the others.
I’m careful not to make eye contact with Diego as the lieutenant mentions my idea to ask if Diamond heard anything. He’s gonna question why I didn’t tell, and I should’ve. There’s no point in building a team if I can’t be honest with them.
“‘Not a voice,’” I say, repeating Diamond’s last words. “‘It was a so—’ So what? What did he mean by that?”
“I was hoping you would have an idea,” the lieutenant barks. “Why did he off himself?”
“Did you see his eyes?” I point out.
The lieutenant nods slowly. “Yes. They changed color.”
“To silver.”
Diego pulls out his phone and shows the pic of the suspect on it. “His eyes are silver here.”
Rex frowns. “When I talked to him, his eyes were brown.”
“Not a voice. Not talking. So…” I snap my fingers, excited I figured it out. “Song! Singing! He heard singing!”
“What does singing have to do with anything?” the lieutenant grumbles.
“Beats me.” I shrug, confused.
None of the others have any ideas either. The lieutenant is exasperated and throws us out with the demand that we get him some good intel and pronto!
Ugh. My head is killing me. I’m so not up for any of this.
While the three guys try to formulate a game plan, I slide over to a quiet corner and call the medical examiner.
“Henrietta? Hi. Have you got the body?”
“Sure do!” she says cheerfully. “Geez, is he a gory sight. I can’t believe he had the willpower to bash his head in enough to do himself in. How many times did he have to hit his head?”
“I didn’t keep count.” I shudder in disgust and revulsion. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Anything. Well, anything within reason. What some people do to corpses…”
I shudder again. “Spare me the details please!”
“Why? Are you eating? Because then I can understand. Some of it is really squeamish and, and you don’t want to hear this. Go on. What’s your question?”
“His eyes. What color are they?”
“Oh, good. That’s an easy one. Hold on. Let me see.”
“Are they silver?” I ask eagerly.
“Hm? No. No, they’re brown. Silver? Who has silver eyes? I know those vampires have red but silver? Why? Do you think this guy isn’t human?”
“I think he’s human, but I also think he was influenced by something that isn’t.”
“A vampire? Or something else?”
“Not sure,” I murmur, my worry growing by the second. I bite my lower lip, mind going a thousand miles a minute. “Can you call me if you find anything weird with him?”
“I’ll do a thorough examination. Always do. Anywhere else you want me to check out?”
“His ears. He might’ve heard something that affected him.”
“Will do. Come on, Greg Diamond. Be a good boy, and tell me all of your secrets.”
I hang up. She can be strange, but she’s awesome too.
The guys have figured out a plan of action. Rex and Diego will go to the pawn shop that Diamond broke into and look for clues. Angelo and I will head to his house and question his wife.
All four of us walk outside to our cars. I elbow Diego’s arm. He glances at me and halts.
The other two keep walking. Angelo winks at me, whereas Rex sighs and shakes his head.
Let them talk. What do I care?
“Listen. I don’t want you to be upset with me.”
“For what?” Diego raises his eyebrows. “You’ve seen silver eyes before?”
“I might have. I don’t know.” I rub the back of my head. “I’m not sure all of what is real at times,” I confess. “I wasn’t sure I heard anything last night. I thought I saw silver eyes and trailed the person. What if it had been Diamond? What if I could’ve prevented him from taking the silver? We have no idea where he took it or who he stole it for. Maybe he burned it down.”
“That’s why we’re detectives. We’re gonna find answers. And chin up. You did tell me you heard something. So you didn’t tell me about the silver eyes. You weren’t even sure if you really saw them. You’re opening up to me some. That’s all I want. Well,” he drawls, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, “maybe not all I want from you.”
My smile is wide. “If that’s all you ever get?”
“I guess it’ll have to do.” He sighs dramatically.
But his dark eyes suggest nope, that won’t do at all.
He’s back to smoldering, and honestly, it’s too hot to handle.
I might’ve considered saying that I wish he was my partner and not Angelo, but I don’t.
We split up. Angelo drives. Now that he’s started to talk to me about his issues, he treats me like I’m his shrink. On and on about the guy his wife slept with, how he’s certain it’s done. How he found it in his heart to forgive her. Gotta give him credit. I don’t know if I could ever forgive someone if he cheated on me. He must really love her.
My heart aches at the thought. That kind of love. Will I ever experience it?
Only if I put my heart out on the line. I hate being that vulnerable, though.
Considering I haven’t been able to with Dean, not even a little, what make
s me think I’ll ever be able to? I’ve never had a long relationship. My life is my work. I never dated in high school, and college was all about classes. I wanted to hurry up and be done with school, so I could help solve my parents’ murders. Once the guy was nabbed, I just wanted to graduate, so I could become a cop. And then I put in the time until I could make detective. For so long, I wanted to make my way into homicide, but that’s over with now. I’ve found my calling.
I’ve always been good at sniffing out goons.
Now, I’m rounding up the supernatural kind.
“Hey.” He lightly squeezes my shoulder. “We’ve handled worse. We’ll be fine.”
“War is worse than anything we’ve already handled,” I argue.
“Immaterial. We’ll stop this. Just be warned.” He winks. “I’m gonna slay your heart during this venture.”
“I’m not a conquest,” I say as I stroll away.
“I know.”
It takes us twenty minutes to drive to Greg Diamond’s house. A decent-sized house. A single versus a rowhouse. The lawn looks a little lackluster, but then again, winter is just about here. Other than needing to be repainted, the house isn’t too bad.
A car sits in the driveway. Good. With any luck, Mrs. Diamond is home. If not, we’ll have to determine her place of employment and find her there.
Angelo knocks on the door, waits ten seconds, and knocks again.
A woman wearing sweats, dark hair in a messy bun, and glasses perched low on her nose, answers the door. Her eyes are red, cheeks blotchy. She’s been crying, already sorrowful and clearly worried sick.
“Officers, can you tell me what’s going on with my husband? I received a phone call that he had been arrested. I saw on the news that he committed a crime, and, oh, I just don’t understand! That’s not my Greg! He’s a good man. He, we, go to church every week. He teaches CCD classes! He would never steal anything. We don’t even have a lawyer to call. Does he need one? I’ve tried to call him, but he left his cell in the house. So unlike him. He never forgets anything. I used to call him my elephant. You know the expression? An elephant never forgets? Not like me. I would forget my head if it weren’t attached to my head.”
“Do you ever forget to breathe?” I ask, smiling.
Her hands stop trembling slightly, and she gives a light chuckle. “Yes, actually. I’m sorry. Excuse me. Come on in. I just put a cup of coffee on. Would you like some?”
“No, thank you.” I shake my head when she gestures to the couch for us to sit.
“I’ll take a cup. Thank you.” Angelo’s smile is a little forced.
She bustles over to the coffee table, cleans up some papers, closes her laptop, and scampers to the kitchen. Half a minute later, she returns with two steaming mugs on a tray.
“Here you go.” She hands a mug to Angelo and then goes to hand me the other one. “Wait, you didn’t want one.”
Mrs. Diamond touches her forehead, and tears fill her eyes. I feel so powerless to help her. She doesn’t even know the tragic news yet, and she’s already a mess.
“Please,” I bid her, “sit. I’m Detective Clarissa Tempest. This is my partner Angelo Colombo. No other officer has come by to see you?”
“No. No one has.” She sits and points to her computer. “I work from home. I haven’t left the house at all today. I’d been waiting for Greg to call me back, but then I saw him on the news and that he was arrested. Aren’t you allowed a phone call? Why didn’t he call me?”
I glance at Angelo.
He clears his throat. “Mrs. Diamond,” he starts.
“Please. Call me Tina.”
Angelo shifts his weight slightly. “Mrs. Diamond, I regret to inform you that your husband has died.”
“What?”
Given how high strung and scatterbrained she is, I would’ve thought she’d exclaim so loudly my ears would ring. Instead, she whispers her question in dismay and almost turtles inside of herself.
“How? When?” Her words are hardly audible. Her sorrow and grief are palpable as if they are physical entities in the room.
I sit forward and kneel in front of her, so she can see me without lifting her lowered head. As much as I hate to question her, I don’t have a choice.
“Mrs. Diamond, I can give you all of the details. Of course. We also have a few questions. Which would you prefer first?”
For a long moment, she’s quiet. She wipes her tears away. She’s a silent crier. No heaving sobs. Her heart is breaking, and so is mine for her.
Finally, she lifts her head. Her eyes are a little vacant, depression clouding them, but they are decidedly not silver.
“You better ask first. I-I might not be able to function once I learn the specifics.”
“Can you tell us what you did yesterday?” Angelo asks.
Her rundown, broken up by a lot of extraneous, unneeded details, matches her husband’s account of the day’s events.
“Did your husband act unusual at all?” I ask.
“No. He was his normal, happy self. He’s always happy, my Greg. It’s what drew me to him.” The light in her eyes dims slightly. “He was always happy,” she corrects herself.
“Did you notice anything different about him? In manner? In appearance?”
She frowns, anxious and insecure. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“His eyes,” I clarify. “Did they change color?”
“Of course not.” She shakes her head frantically. “I don’t understand these questions.”
“Did you hear anything last night or early this morning?”
“Like what?”
“Singing.”
“No. I actually don’t care for music.” She shrugs. “I don’t understand going to concerts especially. You pay so much money to hear music that you could just listen on the radio or on CDs or your computer. Greg didn’t care for it either.”
It’s only now that she mentions it that I realize there isn’t a TV in the room either.
“So you heard nothing at all,” I persist.
“Nothing.” She shrugs. “I sleep like the dead. I have to set five alarms in the morning to get up. It’s bad. Greg wanted me to see a doctor about it, but I never did.” Her eyes take on a faraway look.
I glance at Angelo. He shrugs.
My attention returns to the woman. “May I see your bedroom?” I ask.
“Sure. It’s up the stairs and to the left. I-I don’t want to go in there now.” Her eyes fill with tears. “Detective… Colombo, right? Can you tell me about my husband now?”
Angelo grimaces but nods for me to go on upstairs. I hate leaving him to deliver the terrible news by himself. The sooner we’re out of here, though, the sooner she can succumb to her grief and sorrow without interruption.
Upstairs and to the left. The bedroom is kinda Spartan. Other than a few pictures of the happy couple, there aren’t any knickknacks laid out. Two dressers, twin nightstands, and the bed. One window.
I walk over to it. There’s no tree nearby. No awning. There’s no way for anyone to have gained access to the room from here. No sign of entry. The window is locked tight.
Then again, the person doesn’t need to be in the room for his or her voice to be overheard.
A vamp? But Travis’s eyes hadn’t been silver when he had been under vamp influence. Hm. Werewolves don’t have silver eyes. Are we looking at a third party? Who could it be? I can’t help being worried and anxious about the whole thing.
Angelo is standing awkwardly by the door when I come down. Mrs. Diamond is a mess. She’s trying to hide her crying, but she can’t speak through her depression. Wordlessly, she directs us out the door.
I ask if we can look around the property, and she nods.
“Thank you,” she might whisper, but I can’t be sure. Her voice is too garbled to be understood.
There aren’t any signs of a person walking their property. Hm.
A bird flies overhead. Strange. Shouldn’t they have all migrated by now?
>
Hm. A bird sings. A bird flies. A bird’s song could be heard anywhere.
So, what, I think there are demonic birds or something? Yeah, okay. Sure. No way. Man, am I being ridiculous.
Angelo and I have no theories. Shortly after my fruitless search outside, we return to the station to deliver our report to the lieutenant, who is less than pleased.
By now, our workday is done. Feeling a bit helpless and vulnerable, I head home and find a box waiting for me on my front porch. No note. It wasn’t USPS or UPS.
Hm. I shake it. Something small jostles inside. It’s light. Very light.
X-ray vision would so be nice right now.
Inside are two containers of blood.
Nothing else.
I drop them off for Henrietta to examine, telling her they might belong to a vamp or a werewolf.
Then I stalk the city again. Driving around, chasing down shadows, trying to find the fog that means a vamp is nearby.
I do find a fog. It disappears almost immediately.
I go to investigate. And locate a dead vamp. There’s fur in his clenched fist.
Immediately, I head over to South Mountain and where the wolves used to congregate.
A single wolf lies in the middle of a clearing.
A fang near his dead form.
The war. It’s heating up.
Chapter 12
I call in both locations but don’t hang around either. Instead, I log into the database and search for Rolf Kieran. He lives rather close to South Mountain, which doesn’t surprise me in the least.
My fist bangs on his door three minutes later. I keep on knocking until he opens.
“What do you want?” he growls.
I squint. His eyes are gray this night, but I remain on edge. There’s no way I’m letting my guard down.
“Who’s the wolf with mostly brown fur but a gray ear?” I ask.
His eyes widen with recognition, but he doesn’t say anything.
Man, is he moodier than I remember.
“Does he have a name beside Dead Gray Ear?” I bark.
Okay, so I’m a little bit moody too. I’m sick of being treated like I’m inferior. I can handle whatever life has to handle.
When Sirens Screech: A Mayhem of Magic World Story (Bedlam in Bethlehem Book 3) Page 5
