by R. D. Hunter
“Think this through, Mel,” he said in a low, cautionary tone. “Until you finish this case, you’re still on probation. Going in there right now and verbally tearing a superior officer a new one is exactly what Calloway needs to get you bumped back down to general investigations. Let. It. Go.”
I slid around him without a word and continued my one-woman crusade. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate Bill’s advice. It came from a good place. Part of me even knew he was right. But the trauma I’d witnessed and felt at Nichole Barret’s place still hovered over me, making me itch to spread the misery around a bit. What better recipient than a blatantly sexist, power-abusing boss?
“Detective Graves!” someone called when I was three steps from Calloway’s door. I could see him in there, reclining back in his chair, playing with his phone. I whirled around to face the young officer who’d addressed me.
“What?” I asked, fire and brimstone smoldering in my eyes. He swallowed hard and pointed to the phone he held at his ear.
“There’s someone in the lobby to see you.”
“Who is it?”
“That’s the thing, Ma’am. He won’t say who he is. Just keeps telling the receptionist she hasn’t ‘earned the right to his true name’. To tell you the truth, he’s kind of freaking them out.” I felt the beginnings of a smile playing around the corners of my mouth, despite my anger.
“Tell them it’ll be ok. I’m on my way.” He listened carefully for a few more seconds.
“They want to know if he’s dangerous.” Now I really did smile, although it felt more like baring my fangs at a helpless pup.
“Of course, he’s dangerous. He’s my grandfather.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Even among the Fringe, my Gramps is an odd duck. Somewhat of a local spiritual leader for our kind, you won’t find a more knowledgeable or talented hearth witch within a hundred miles. He was also a big believer in the guiding principle of the cosmos, which meant that he was wherever he was meant to be and the universe would provide him with the means to do whatever he needed to do. This was good, because for all my grandfather’s talents and abilities, he couldn’t remember shit.
He didn’t have Alzheimer's, thank God. Nor did he have any kind of physical malady that could account for his inability to recall the simplest of details. He just lived in the moment, went where he felt compelled to go, and didn’t sweat the details. It could be kind of annoying sometimes, but he’d raised me since I was six years old and I loved him dearly.
I heard him before I even got off the elevator. His usual cheerful voice had a note of frustration in it, like when I shirked my spell casting in favor of good, ole fashioned elbow grease. To him, magic was in everything in wide and varied abundance, so might as well make use of it. To me it was tantamount to cheating, and I only used it when absolutely necessary. It was one of the few things that caused strain between us.
“What do you mean you can’t let me go up?” he said to the exasperated receptionist. “I have to go up. I have important business to attend to.” Gramps was 67 years old, but looked like a man in his mid-fifties. His grey hair was neatly trimmed and combed, and he sported his usual outfit of worn blue jeans and plaid shirt, complete with a large burlap sack slung over one shoulder.
“Sir, this is a secure facility,” she said tiredly. “I can’t allow you to enter the premises without showing some form of identification.”
“Identification? You mean those little slips of paper with your name and picture on them? I don’t have one of those.”
“It’s ok, Linda,” I said, arriving on the scene. “I’ll take care of it.”
“The nerve of that young lady,” he said as I affectionately took his arm and led him back through a set of double doors. “Doesn’t she know what a malicious hag or warlock could do with that information?”
“No, Gramps. She doesn’t believe in magic. To her, it’s just a way of telling who you are.”
“Hmph! I have a good mind to collect her name and throw an incontinence hex her way. Then she’d be a little more careful when requesting a person’s name.” I knew it was all bluster.
My grandpa had more power than most witches, but I’d never known him to use it in a cruel or spiteful fashion. Mostly, he just puttered around his kitchen, making remedies for people who weren’t sick yet and potions for things that hadn’t happened yet…or sometimes happened three weeks ago. You just never knew with my gramps.
I took him into one of the smaller, empty classrooms and gave him a quick hug.
“What are you doing here, Gramps?” I asked. He looked confused for a second.
“You called me…didn’t you?”
“No, I didn’t. Are you sure you’re not thinking about last week, when I called you and told you I’d meet you for lunch?” His forehead furrowed deeper as he tried to keep track of dates and events. Finally, he shrugged and gave me a sheepish smile.
“I might be,” he said. “I was on my way to visit Mrs. Purnsley. She has that terrible cough, you remember? But I got on the wrong bus. And I tried changing lines at three different stops, but the next thing I know I’m standing outside of this building, so I thought I’d pop in and see you. Apparently, you needed me more than Mrs. Purnsley.”
I considered this for a moment. He wasn’t wrong. If he hadn’t showed up when he did, chances are I’d be packing up my desk right now after giving Lt. Calloway a much-deserved tongue thrashing. In fact, it was safe to say that if he hadn’t arrived at the precise moment that he did, my career would have taken a serious hit courtesy of my damned temper. Looked like I owed the cosmos one.
“I’m fine, Gramps. Really,” I said. “You didn’t need to come all the way out here.” His blue eyes squinted a little as he looked me up and down.
“You’ve been spelling. Your energy levels are the lowest I’ve seen them in two or three lunar cycles. Come sit down.” He started taking things out of his bag and placing them on one of the tables.
“I’d love to, Gramps, but I don’t have the time. I got my first murder case this morning and I have a lot of work to do.”
“Good. You can tell me all about it while I get set up.” Unconcerned, he pulled out a small, handheld broom called a besom, and began sweeping the top of the table. I sighed. I’d been an idiot to think he could be swayed so easily.
I gave him the quick rundown on the case, excluding the particularly gory bits. When I was done, he had finished laying out what he needed. Two clear, quartz crystals, a bowl of water poised over a lit purple candle and several pouches of dried herbs.
As I watched, he set the bowl of water in a little stand over the candle, and sprinkled in little bits and pieces from each bag. I recognized some of the more common ones like cinnamon and ginger, but then he crushed and threw in a handful of calendula flowers and astragalus root and I stopped paying attention. He knew what he was doing.
“Gramps, how is it you have exactly the components needed to work a revitalization ritual with you?” I asked while he worked.
“No idea. I just threw some things in the bag before I left. It helps not to think too closely about these things, Dear.”
“Fair enough.”
Anyone else might have thought he planned this from the beginning, but I knew my grandpa would never deceive me intentionally. Besides, I’d seen things work out for this man way too many times to believe they were mere coincidences. It was entirely possible that he truly did have the universe on speed dial and it worked itself around his wants and needs. I wasn’t going to complain.
“Drink this,” he said, handing me the bowl of steaming, brown liquid.
“What’s it do?”
“Moon water tea, my own blend. This concoction is designed specifically to open the energy pathways. Now, down the hatch and no complaining.”
I took a deep breath and held it while I downed the tea. It actually wasn’t that bad. The cinnamon and ginger flavors came to the front, but there was a bitter aftertaste that made
me cringe and make a face.
“Sorry,” Gramps said. “Honey and sugar serve to nullify the effects. I think I have some homemade candy with me, if you don’t mind hearing the thoughts of the first animal you make eye contact with.”
“No thank you,” I said quickly. “I’m good. Let’s just finish this up before somebody comes in.” He nodded and placed one of the quartz crystals in each hand. Even though they hadn’t been tapped yet, I could feel the energy waiting inside like a gentle hum against my palms.
Gramps placed my hands in his, then closed his eyes as he brought his own, far more considerable power to the surface. When he did, the hum of the crystals turned into a vibration so strong they caused my skin to itch and my teeth to shake in their sockets.
“Repeat after me,” my grandpa said, his voice distant and focused.
“Positive to negative
Hot to cold
Let the spirit within
Be restored of old.”
No sooner had the last syllable left my lips than a flush of warmth flooded up my arms and filled my whole bottle. I gasped out loud and instinctively tried to pull away, but my grandpa held me firm.
“Relax,” he said. “Let it happen. Will yourself to be as an empty vessel.” I did as he instructed and the warmth and tingles seeped into my skin to fill my whole being. It wasn’t exactly painful, but feeling every cell in your body vibrate under a wash of alien energy was disconcerting to say the least. But, as I relaxed and let the process take hold, I began to feel something else…power.
Now, I’m not saying I could go out and bench press a car. I didn’t feel stronger, just more capable. The thick sludge that had hindered my movements since I left Nichole Barret’s place was gone, replaced with an iron-clad sense of confidence and a clarity I hadn’t known in some time. I could get used to this.
Gramps sat back, a satisfied expression on his face.
“You look better,” he said.
“I feel better. Thanks, Gramps.” I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek which made him smile.
“You know, if you kept up with your spell casting, you wouldn’t be as weak as a new-born foal after only two little workings.” He had me there. But I didn’t like to use my magic on the job. It felt too much like cheating. Not that I wouldn’t do it, if it meant the difference between me or another innocent going home at night. But I liked to find alternatives when I could.
I helped my grandpa put his instruments neatly back in his bag. As I did so, a piece of pink rose quartz spilled out of a small side pocket and clattered to the table in front of me.
“That’s yours,” Gramps said immediately.
“Huh? What for?” He shrugged.
“No idea. But it’s meant for you. Take it.” I sighed and did as he asked. It would do no good to argue and no harm to agree. If Gramps thought the universe was trying to give me a charged piece of rose quartz, he wouldn’t rest until he saw that I had it. Better to just stick it in my pocket and forget about it.
“It’s a shame about poor Nikki, though,” he said sympathetically, as he continued to pack. “She was a good soul.” I stopped and stared at him.
“Wait. You knew Nichole Barret?” He looked up at me like I’d just announced the sky was blue.
“Of course. Not very well, mind you. But she visited me once or twice for advice or to purchase some rare herbs. Nice girl.” I sighed. Of course, he knew her. Gramps knew the first name of everyone with enough magic to make a pot of water boil. Why am I even surprised anymore?
“What else do you know about her? Did she mention any friends or family? Maybe a jealous boyfriend or something?” I asked hopefully. His weathered brow furrowed as he tried to remember, but remembering wasn’t his strong suit.
“No, I don’t think so,” he said slowly. “She mentioned the Lit Candle a few times, though. Perhaps you could check in with your young, gentleman caller that works there.” I glared at him suspiciously.
The Lit Candle he was talking about was the only place in Atlanta that the Fringe could go, hang out and talk shop. The ‘gentleman caller’ he was referring to was Jack Dobbs, my ex-boyfriend of nearly two years go. Gramps had made it no secret he thought we were ‘destined’ for each other.
“This isn’t just a ploy to get me to talk to Jack, is it? Because I really don’t have the time right now, Gramps.” He put a hand to his heart, as if mortally wounded that I would insinuate such a thing.
“Of course not, my Dear. I would never do such an underhanded thing. Why, I don’t even know of he is working today.” I walked him out to the parking lot. Linda shot a sour look at us as we passed, to which my grandpa simply inclined his head politely.
“Okay, I’ll check out the Candle,” I said. “Odds are good someone there knew her or something about her. Can I give you a lift to Mrs. Purnsley’s?” He shook his head.
“No thank you, my Dear. That’s completely out of your way. I’ll find my own way there.” Which meant he would wait around until circumstances carried him to Mrs. Purnsley’s doorstep. I sighed.
“Gramps, the universe isn’t going to call you a taxi. You might as well…” I was interrupted by a red convertible being driven by a young man in a business suit roaring into the parking lot and stopping in front of us.
“Hey, I’m really sorry,” the man said urgently, “but could either of you tell me where Martin’s Clinic is? My wife is there right now having an ultrasound and I promised I’d be there. It’s our first one so if I’m late she will absolutely have my hide.” Gramps arched an eyebrow and glanced at me, causing me to roll my eyes.
Martin’s Clinic was right across the street from Mrs. Purnsley’s apartment building, and it looked like my grandpa was going to get there in record time and in style. The universe provides again.
“Young man, you’re in luck,” Gramps said, walking forward. “I’m headed that way myself and can show you the quickest and easiest route there. With any luck whatsoever, we’ll be there before your wife has finished filling out the paperwork.” He got in the passenger seat without waiting for an invitation and quickly availed himself of a spare set of sunglasses he found in the console. “Hit it.”
There was a squeal of tires as the man and my grandpa pealed out and I watched them leave with a wry smile. I loved my grandpa more than anyone else in the world, but he certainly had his ways.
CHAPTER FIVE
I went back inside and gave Linda an apologetic smile. She returned it in kind.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize he was your grandfather. I was just trying to follow the rules.” It was true. Linda was a sweet woman who was like a second mother to everyone in the building. She didn’t do anything out of spite.
“Forget about it,” I said kindly. “He already has.” We both laughed.
“He’s certainly a character. Is he from your mom’s or dad’s side of the family?” I stopped smiling and blinked several times in confusion.
“He…I’m sorry, what?”
“Is he your mom’s or dad’s father?” she asked again. For some reason, I couldn’t wrap my head around the question.
“I…uh…” I was saved from having to answer by the timely arrival of Bill coming out of the elevator. “What’ve you got?” I sighed in relief.
“I talked to the guys,” he said. “They’re going to move your stuff back to your desk. Most of them didn’t have anything to do with it and the few that did didn’t know Calloway was behind it.”
“Screw it. I’ll take care of it later. What else?”
“I was going over the canvas interviews the officers turned in. Apparently, one of the neighbors noticed a strange, black Lexus with heavily tinted windows in the area, three mornings in a row. It was just circling the block well before sunup, never stopped, never pulled in anywhere.”
“They get the license plate?” He gave me a look.
“You wish. If only things were that easy.” I took a deep breath and considered my next move.
&
nbsp; “Okay, call the local detailers. See if any of them remember tinting a car like that. It’s a long shot, but find out what you can.” He nodded.
“What about you?”
“I got a lead on some possible associates of the victim. I’ll check it out and see if they can tell me anything.”
“You sure you don’t want me to come along?” I shook my head.
“No, it’s fine. I’m just going to ask around and see what turns up. Keep me informed.”
I could tell Bill didn’t like letting me go off into an unknown situation on a murder investigation without any backup. Truth be told, I wasn’t crazy about it myself. But the Lit Candle had a strict ‘No Violence’ policy among its clientele. The few customers who decided to violate that had experience…uncomfortable consequences. I’d be safe inside.
Now, all I had to do was gain entry. Easier said than done.
The Lit Candle was not the kind of place you find on Google Maps. It didn’t have a website or a sign out front and there are no Yelp reviews for it. You either knew where it was or you had no business going in, plain and simple. No one was really sure who owned it, but they kept top-shelf booze in stock and paid their employees fairly and on time, so no one complained.
The club itself was wasn’t much to look at from the outside. It was just a quiet, nondescript brick building in a sea of identical brick buildings situated in the lower-midsection of the city. There was no sanitation rating, no minimum drinking age, and parking was plentiful. The whole business existed off the grid and if anybody on the city council looked too close at it, their political career usually came to a screeching halt.
But knowing how to get to the Candle was only half of the entry requirement. The other half was in the form of a huge, Asian bodybuilder covered in tattoos named Chang. He hung out in the small front room, just as you entered the Candle, and he always had some test you had to pass. For witches, it was a simple bit of spell work, nothing too taxing. Shifters had to give him a glimpse of their animal spirit, vamps had to show their ‘darker’ nature, and so on. There were no exceptions, no matter how many times you’d been there. That didn’t stop me from trying, of course.
