I did lie to Chelsea though. I told her that I came back because I left my phone behind. She seemed to buy it, for now, although she couldn’t understand why I didn’t wait until morning to get it.
I couldn’t understand why anyone would want Antoine dead, I mean he was Chelsea’s lapdog, but that wasn’t reason enough to kill him. He seemed like a jerk, or he behaved like one when he spoke to me, but I’d never seen him talking to anyone else. Again, being rude didn’t seem like a good enough reason to stab someone multiple times.
Chelsea approached me. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. We need a written statement of everything you saw and heard tonight.”
I nodded, studying her face, trying to determine if she was involved in all of this, but she gave nothing away. I doubted she did it, not with her ambition. She wouldn’t risk her position here. Or at the very least she would get someone to do it for her.
Like me?
We moved to Spencer’s desk. Chelsea shoved a bunch of wires aside so she could take notes. I’m sure Spencer hated me for not showing up for our date but at least he didn’t end up like Antoine. Or at least I hoped not.
Maybe I should call him. I glanced at my watch. 1am. I didn’t want to wake him if all I did was stand him up. Visions of him lying in a pool of blood filled my head, but I pushed them away. I had no reason to think that.
“Why were you here after hours?” Chelsea asked.
I sighed. “I told you, I realized that I forgot my phone and came back for it. I didn’t realize it would alert you.”
“Clearly. We have a building full of dangerous artefacts, of course we monitor who goes in or out. Nothing happens that I don’t know about.”
Except a vicious murder.
A thought occurred to me. “Wait, you got alerted by me? Just now?”
Chelsea looked at me like I was an idiot. “That’s what I just said.”
“What about Antoine? He wasn’t here when I left earlier, which means he came back. Did you get an alert when he came inside?”
And if I had the knife, I had to have been in here too, before I regained my senses. Why didn’t she get one then?
Her brow furrowed and she snatched up her phone to check. Scrolling through it, she frowned. “That’s impossible. He’s not listed as entering the building after this morning. No one entered until you.”
“Could Max have let him in?” I suggested.
“I’m sure he would have mentioned that,” Chelsea snapped.
Muttering to herself, she hurried away to talk to one of the team. Something more was definitely going on here. If I didn’t use my card the first time, how did I get in? Or was the alert system defective? That had to be it. If it is, then that would be pretty lucky for me.
I forced myself to look at Antoine’s body. A man was kneeling beside him, checking for clues. We worked with the police on occasion, and in Antione’s case, it might still go to them, but our own forensic techs were necessary. That way we avoided someone reporting cause of death as attack by a werewolf.
It certainly isn’t the case here.
I tried to detach myself from the situation like I’ve been taught. Antoine lay on his back, the stab wounds were confined to his chest. He had a cut on his cheek, like he had been struck with something. The wound didn’t appear deep so it might have knocked him off balance but not unconscious.
There has to be some clue to who did this. Other than me.
Antoine was a big guy. Would I have had the strength to take him down? Wouldn’t I remember stabbing someone to death?
Glancing down, I noticed that blood covered my hands, but I did fall on him, which also accounted for the blood on my shirt. I didn’t think to check my shirt before I fell. No chance of checking for blood spatter now. Shifting in my seat, I tried to cover my shirt with my jacket. Not because I was trying to hide evidence, but because it made me feel queasy looking at it.
Leaning forward, I took a couple of deep breaths. As I did, I noticed something lying under the table. I leaned further forward, trying to get a better look. It appeared to be a statue, probably an artefact. It could have been used to hit him. But why was it out here? There were no crates around and Antoine didn’t work in that department. That didn’t mean he didn’t have a legitimate reason for having it. Or maybe he caught someone trying to steal it and they fought?
None of it explained how he got in without alerting Chelsea though.
“Um, excuse me? There’s something under the table,” I called to the tech guy.
He bent down to check it out. After marking the spot and photographing it, he removed the statue and placed it into an evidence bag.
The statue was Greek in origin from the look of it, and I’m pretty sure it helped the owner attract money – in a big way. Not dangerous per se, but not something that the League wanted in circulation. Someone could use it to win at gambling or the lottery even. The downside was that the statue usually took something in return, like their life force. Magic demanded payment, that’s how it worked.
Did Antoine try to steal it?
The forensic guy approached me. “Is that blood from the victim?” he asked, pointing at my shirt.
No, this is from another victim, I thought.
I nodded. “Yeah, I fell on him.”
“I’m going to need to take it as evidence.”
“Oh. I don’t have anything else to wear,” I said.
The guy shrugged as if to say, ‘not my problem’.
I got up to go into the bathroom, maybe I could cover myself with my jacket, although it would be a chilly walk home.
“Everything okay?” Max asked as I passed him.
“Uh, he needs my shirt for evidence.”
“The jacket too,” the tech called.
“Why don’t I just strip off all my clothes?” I muttered. “I don’t have a spare shirt.”
“I can get you something to wear,” Max offered.
I sighed with relief. “Thank you.”
He headed into the back of the building and returned a few minutes later with a pressed blue shirt. His own shirt. I didn’t realize he meant something of his. I thought there would be a lost and found or something.
“This should do. At least so you can get home.”
I took the shirt from him. “Thanks, I’ll go change.”
In the bathroom, I carefully removed the shirt and jacket, setting them on the counter while I cleaned myself up.
I’m washing someone’s blood off my hands. Someone I probably killed.
My stomach lurched and I ran into a stall to throw up. Not much came up because I hadn’t eaten since lunch.
Keep it together, Dell.
I just wanted to get out of here and go home. I splashed some water on my face, then checked my bra for blood stains. It seemed to have escaped unstained.
Grabbing the shirt Max gave me, I put it on and buttoned it up, double checking I had no more blood on me. The shirt was big on me, but it beat walking home half naked. It smelled faintly of laundry detergent.
I took the bloody clothes out to the tech, who was waiting with an evidence bag. He labeled it and added it to the other evidence.
Chelsea stood in the corner, her phone to her ear, a crazy look in her eye. She spotted me and pointed to the chair I had vacated. No escape for me yet. Slumping into it, I had no choice but to wait.
Max appeared and set a cup of tea on the desk in front of me. “You okay?”
I shrugged. “Better than Antoine anyway.”
“Yeah, true.”
I sipped my tea, barely tasting it.
“Look, Chelsea is checking the alert system so you can probably go home for the night. She’ll be a while. She can get the rest of your statement tomorrow,” Max said.
“If that’s okay.” I just wanted out of here. Getting to my feet, I said, “I’ll clean this shirt and get it back to you.”
He nodded. “No hurry. What is it the cops say? Don’t leave town.”
&nbs
p; I froze. Did he suspect me?
He noticed me tense up. “That’s a joke, Dell. Go home and get some rest.”
I got out of there as quickly as I could. I speed walked across campus, jumping at every shadow. It felt as though someone was watching me. My mind immediately jumped to Jason, but James would have someone keeping tabs on him.
I’m just freaked out.
As I opened the dorm room door, I only just stopped myself from slamming it when I remembered Brenda. I closed it as quietly as I could.
Brenda’s light flicked on and she sat up. “What the hell? Where have you been? Is that a man’s shirt?”
I really wasn’t in the mood for an argument, not after the night I’d had.
“None of your business. If you want to go to the Dean, Brenda, go for it. But when you do, you might want to tell him about that baggie you keep hidden under your mattress.”
Brenda’s eyes widened in alarm. Swearing, she switched the light off and lay back down.
Serves her right.
I changed for bed but found it impossible to fall asleep. A man was dead and I could be the one who killed him. If I did, I would be facing a lengthy sentence in prison. I wanted to run, to flee back home where it was familiar, but running away wouldn’t solve anything. More than anything, I wished that Grandpa was here to talk to. To give me advice or help me figure this out.
I can figure this out myself. I have to.
Chapter Twelve
I woke up long before my alarm went off, but I continued to lie there, my mind filled with the terrible image of Antoine’s dead body. Academy deaths weren’t exactly rare, but they usually didn’t involve another human doing the deed. At least not directly. It made it more real somehow.
What about his family? Had they been informed? He might have family in the League, which meant they would want a thorough investigation and whoever did it, to be punished to the full extent of the law. I tried to come up with a list of suspects. I was top of the list. Max and Chelsea both made the list too. With the system on the fritz though, literally anyone in the Academy could have been in there.
It’s not so easy to remain objective when you’re stuck in the middle of the investigation.
Brenda mumbled something in her sleep, making me jump. I lay still, waiting to see if she woke up, but the snoring resumed. I wanted to avoid anymore questions from her, so I got up and headed into the bathroom as quietly as I could.
After a quick shower, I got dressed, but I had trouble putting my contact lenses in because my hands were shaking from anxiety. After the fourth attempt, I gave up.
Glasses it is.
Leaving the bathroom, I raided the nightstand for my old glasses. I hated the clunky black frames, but they were all I had. Putting them on, I checked myself out in the mirror. They would have to do. It wouldn’t do to be walking into walls with everything else going on right now.
I should really look into that laser eye surgery, if I can ever find the time.
As I packed my bag, I noticed Max’s shirt hanging over the chair where I left it last night. I could drop it off at the laundromat before I went to work. Folding it up, I placed it into my bag.
“Who’s the guy?”
Brenda sat on the edge of her bed, her hair sticking up. I didn’t like the tone she used.
“There is no guy. I spilled coffee and someone at work lent me their spare shirt.”
She snorted, getting to her feet. “In that case, you need to find a guy. Maybe if you got laid you wouldn’t be so uptight.”
I glared at her as she headed into the bathroom. I’m uptight? I’m not the one having meltdowns over crumbs on the kitchen table. That’s it, first chance I get, I am out of here.
Storming out of the room, I made sure to slam the door as loudly as I could behind me. I don’t like losing my temper, I’ve always been taught that control is the most important thing, but she was getting on my last nerve.
I snagged a paper on my walk across campus. I could check the listings on my lunch break. A little one bedroom sounded like heaven right now.
After dropping the shirt off, I headed for the Academy. It was only as I walked in and spotted Spencer that I remembered about the date. I approached his desk, looking sheepish.
At least he is alive and not covered in stab wounds.
I cleared my throat. “Spencer? About last night…”
“I’m kind of busy at the moment, Dell,” he said, not even looking up. He didn’t sound angry, but it was clear he had no interest in my excuses. Guess I did just stand him up.
Classy. I know I would hate it if he did it to me.
“Okay, we can talk later,” I muttered, moving away from his desk. Damn, I hoped I didn’t blow it with him. Maybe once he had time to get past the anger, we could try again. If I didn’t end up in prison.
“Grimm,” Chelsea barked, marching toward me. She wore a new outfit, but the dark circles under her eyes suggested that she didn’t sleep.
Give me strength.
“Yes?” I said, forcing myself to sound normal. Whatever that meant.
“We need to finish that statement.”
I followed her into a room and took a seat, ready for the interrogation.
Chelsea stared at me for a few seconds in silence and I wondered if she knew I was lying about the phone.
“Now that you’ve had time to sleep on it, even though I didn’t give you permission to leave…”
“Max said I could go.”
“Max is not in charge, I am. You came into the building last night looking for your phone. Did you see anyone leaving the building?”
“No.”
“And Antoine was already dead?”
“Yes, definitely.” I shuddered as I remembered his face.
“Did you pick up the murder weapon?” Chelsea asked, an icy expression on her face.
“Yes, it was stupid, I didn’t realize I even did it.”
“You do know that it’s a bad idea to contaminate a crime scene? Or didn’t they teach you that?”
I bit my tongue, although I wanted to say plenty. Instead, I just nodded and stared at my hands.
After a moment, she continued, “Antoine had no reason to be here. Did you hear anything leading up to the incident? Any conversations?”
“I didn’t really interact with Antoine. I don’t know why he was here or why someone would kill him. Do you…have any suspects?”
“That’s classified.”
“Is there any more news on what happened? About the alert system?” I kept pushing, I needed to know what happened.
“It appears someone hacked the alert system. Are you sure you saw no one else on the premises or outside?” she said.
I shook my head. “No, I don’t remember seeing anyone else.” That wasn’t a lie.
Chelsea took my statement and left the room. It looked like I was clear to go back to work. She didn’t seem to suspect me at all. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or insulted.
I found Max in the stacks. After my suspicions last night, I still had doubts about him, but right now, I needed his help. And no one else had expertise like him.
“Can I speak to you again?” I said quietly.
He looked up from a book. “I haven’t found the orb, but I’m working on something else.”
“That’s great, but it’s about last night. Can we go somewhere more private?” I said, when another Watcher walked by.
Max led me back to his office. As I passed Spencer, he shot Max a look and muttered, “That explains it.”
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.” He walked away.
Confused, I headed into the office. What was that about?
“Well?” Max asked.
“Last night…I lost time again.”
“How long?”
“Four hours.”
“Four hours! Do you have any idea what happened in that time?”
I couldn’t tell him about the knife. “I don’t know. I
came to out on the quad.”
“You do know this makes you a suspect in Antoine’s death. You need to figure out where you were, fast.”
“I know that, but how?”
“Cameras on campus? Talk to people, maybe they saw you.” I didn’t know anyone to ask, but the cameras were a good idea. I completely forgot about them the other day.
“I have to work,” I said.
“I think this is a little more important. I’ll cover for you. Go.”
Heading for the security office on campus, I wondered what I would find. The murder wouldn’t be on camera, but it might show me running out with the knife. Or maybe there was another victim somewhere that I didn’t know about.
I could have gone door to door slashing people.
Stop it. The whole campus would be covered in cops if that were the case.
A man sat behind a desk covered in monitors. “Can I help you?” he asked. He was bald with dark brown eyes and a moustache.
Thinking fast, I said, “Yeah, I uh, lost my phone last night and I need help finding it.”
“File a report at reception, they’ll look into it.”
“Well, this is embarrassing. I dropped it somewhere on the quad. I had a few drinks and…well. If I knew where I dropped it, I’m sure I could find it.”
The guard sighed. “What time?”
“Sometime between eight and midnight.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? You keep partying like that and you’ll end up in rehab before winter break.”
“I promise to drink in moderation from now on,” I said, shooting him a smile. Better he thinks I’m an alcoholic than find out what I’m really doing here.
He started clicking the mouse in front of him. “Amazed you’re even standing,” he muttered.
It took him a while to go through the footage, but finally he said, “Here we are.”
I moved around the desk for a better look.
He tapped the screen. “That’s you, isn’t it?”
It definitely looked like me, although the posture was all wrong. The woman on the screen walked like she would rip your face off for looking at her the wrong way. The time stamp showed 11:38pm and I was heading toward the Academy. Depending on when Antoine died, I was definitely still a suspect.
Watcher Academy Page 7
