by Gina LaManna
“How’d you find the girlfriend? And the dog for that matter?”
“She found us,” Primrose said. “We were just about to pack up and head for home when the front door opened and in she walked.”
“The girlfriend or the dog?”
“Both!” Primrose bounced once in her seat before seemingly reminding herself to stay calm. “The girlfriend’s name is Jennifer Ramos. She works at the same company as Mason. Or, she did. It turns out, she has a half hour commute from her home to the office, but Mason’s house is right around the block from their offices. He asked her to dog sit for him while he was away. She brings the dog to his place during the day so she can check on him during lunch.”
“Hence the sandwich and milk,” I said. “She pops into Mason’s apartment for lunch and playtime with his dog.”
“Then she pops back in after work finishes for the day to take the puppy home,” she said. “Boy, was she surprised to see us.”
“What’d you say?”
Her face flushed a bit. “Well, I panicked. I said I was an officer of the Sixth Precinct. Luckily, Jennifer didn’t seem to realize that the Sixth Precinct was in another, um, world, and not just downtown Dallas. Renola took over then, flashed her badge and explained the situation. She notified Jennifer of Mason’s death.”
“What was her reaction? Is she a mortal?”
“Oh, totally mortal. As mortal as they come,” Primrose said. “I mean, I don’t see Residuals like you do, but she didn’t seem to have a clue about anything magical. We gave her a few hints to latch onto, but we got nothing.”
“What was the situation between them when he left?”
“She thought he was breaking up with her,” Primrose said. “Jennifer mentioned Mason had been acting really strange the last few weeks. Paranoid, looking over his shoulder everywhere he went—as if he was being watched or followed. She started to wonder if he was seeing someone else, and she confronted him about it a week before he left.”
“What’d he say?”
“He swore up and down that he wasn’t seeing anyone else, and Jennifer believed him,” Primrose said. “She did add that he’d always been a little bit different.”
“Dammit,” I said. “Again with this different business. Did she say what she meant?”
“Actually, she did. She couldn’t voice it specifically—probably because she doesn’t believe in magic—but she said that sometimes he had the tendency to startle easily when he would see a person.”
“One specific person?”
“No, it always appeared to be random people, and it was rarely someone they knew personally,” Primrose said. “They’d be walking down the street with their dog, or out to eat at a restaurant, and suddenly he’d get really nervous, start to sweat, and stare straight at someone. The types of people who seemed to trigger this didn’t have any pattern according to Jennifer: tall or short, fat or skinny, young or old, it didn’t matter. He’d done it with children and elderly, both male and female.”
“Did he give her any explanation as to what caused these attacks?”
“Just that he had some social anxiety,” Primrose said. “She believed it eventually because it kept happening. Not often, maybe once per month or so. And it became so normal she just took it to be one of his quirks. We all have ’em, she said.”
“Well, I suppose that’s true, but it’s sort of a weird quirk,” I said. “And I don’t believe it was social anxiety. Anxiety, sure, but I’m guessing he was seeing something he didn’t like. A blast from his past, maybe?”
“Are there that many witches and wizards living in Texas?” Primrose asked. “Are you suggesting what triggered his reaction was the sighting of other magical folks? And he’d get nervous because he didn’t want to be discovered?”
“At this point, it’s all just a theory,” I said. “I don’t have anything conclusive to say one way or another.”
“She did say it got better as time went on,” Primrose added. “Three months ago, he went to the eye doctor, got some glasses. Since he started wearing them, he never had an episode. She said he seemed way happier, more energetic. Wanted to do more things.”
“I’m sensing there’s a but?”
“He forgot the glasses at home one day and his episode was triggered,” she said. “He saw someone—Jennifer didn’t see who it was exactly. She couldn’t even say if it was a man or a woman. But it was worse than the rest. They were grocery shopping at the time and had to go straight home when it happened. After that, he disappeared for the weekend. When he came back, he asked her to watch his dog for a month because he had business to take care of.”
“Poor Jennifer,” I said. “And Mason. He couldn’t explain, and she couldn’t understand. Guess that’s a point toward dating within your own world.”
“I guess so,” Primrose said. “That’s the last time she heard from him. He’d said that he wouldn’t have much service where he was going, so if he didn’t call, that she shouldn’t worry. But of course, she worried. She figured one day she’d come back and find the dog gone and a note from Mason saying he’d moved to a new country or met someone new. I mean, she was blindsided to find out he’d died. And very sad.”
“Homicides are rarely expected or happy events,” I said. “Really good work, Officer. This is why you tell me to jerk off if I ever tell you not to follow up on one of your hunches.”
“Um, Detective, I don’t think I can tell you to jerk off. You’re my boss.”
“Whatever,” I said. “I’m just saying—your instincts were right on this one, Primrose. Very good job.”
“Thanks,” she said, then sat back in her chair with a little pout. “It’s funny, isn’t it? I thought I had this huge genius breakthrough. I found a missing girlfriend and a dog. Put Jennifer’s mind at rest that Mason was, in fact, working and not shacking up with someone else. We dug through his apartment. All that, and does it really help further the case?”
“Sure it does,” I said. “It might not crack it wide open, but it’s very rare that ever happens in one fell swoop. Our first theories rarely turn out to be true. More often than not, it takes us tugging on a lot of these tiny little threads, and then sooner or later, the case unravels for us.”
“I hope I didn’t waste a bunch of time,” she said. “I’d feel so stupid.”
“Hey, you did a really good thing tracking down this lead. Jennifer deserved to know what happened to Mason. Even if nothing else comes from this, that alone was worth the trip. Give yourself some credit, Primrose.”
“Something else did happen, a little,” she said. “I sort of brought the dog back with me.”
“What?”
“It’s a little one,” she said. “He’s, um, right here.”
I watched as Primrose shifted the bag higher on her lap. I recognized it as a carrying case for an animal and, sure enough, a wet nose poked out.
“Why’d you do that?”
She shrugged and gave me a sheepish look. “Because I thought he might be evidence? And he was so cute, and Jennifer wasn’t sure what to do with him permanently—her apartment doesn’t allow dogs. She was just sneaking him in because he’s so well behaved. Aren’t you, Woofie?”
“Woofie?”
“I named him that,” she said. “His real name is Harry.”
“Um,” I said, scratching my head. “I’m not sure of the protocol for this one. Can you care for him for a few days? Maybe Jennifer can find a way to take him permanently.”
“Absolutely,” Primrose said. “It’d be my pleasure! You and me are gonna have fun, aren’t we, Woofie?”
She scratched at his ears and made cooing sounds at the bundle of fluff that looked ready to pee on my desk with excitement.
“Sorry,” Primrose said finally. “I’ll keep him out of the office for the most part. But Jennifer was really stressed, and I couldn’t just have her leaving him somewhere...”
I heaved a huge sigh. “You’re a dog lover, huh?”
“A big softie,” Primrose said. “I’d have a million if I could.”
“Well, stick with one for now,” I said. “We’ve still got work to do on the case, and I’m going to need your help to wrap it up. We’re getting close, I can feel it. I just haven’t figured out what I’m missing that would break this case open the rest of the way.”
“What about the mystery man?” she asked. “The one from the library—any more luck with that?”
“Hold on, I’m still thinking about the glasses,” I said, diverting the subject to safer territory. I fished the case out from the pocket where I’d tucked it. “We have his glasses.”
“Oh! Have you figured out what’s so unique about them?”
“Not exactly, but Felix picked out that they were bizarre in some way. Possibly altered by the gnomes.”
“But the gnomes—” Primrose paused. “Oh, crap. I’m so sorry, Detective. Woofie was very excited and had a little accident, but it’s no big deal. I’ll just clean it up.”
Primrose muttered a Cleaning Charm while carefully putting Harry back in his carrying case to calm down. When she sat up, I glanced at her hands, which sparkled with bright yellow Residuals from the charm.
“It’s fine,” I said. “These are the glasses. The prescription is so strong I can’t even bear to put them on my face.”
“Can I see them?”
“Fingerprint Eraser,” I instructed before handing the glasses across. “Anything stand out to you?”
Primrose fingered the glasses, flipping them toward her, backwards, every which way before squinting and shaking her head. “I mean, I don’t know what Felix saw to even say these have special powers from the gnomes or whatever. They look like regular reading or distance glasses to me.”
“Same here,” I said. “Though he’s got a bunch of tools to help him along. Can I see...”
I trailed off as Primrose flipped the glasses around so they were facing me. She squinted at the front of them, but it wasn’t the glasses that were concerning to me. It was what I saw through them. Or rather, what I didn’t see.
“Do that again,” I said when Primrose set the glasses down. “I mean, lift them up backwards like that so I can see through them.”
She did as she was told, holding them out so the stems faced me. I leaned forward, put my face between either arm of the glasses and did my best to ignore the strong prescription making my eyesight appear wonky.
“Let me see those a minute.” I gently plucked the glasses from a very confused Primrose’s fingers. “Put your hands up in front of your body, will you?”
She raised her hands in surrender. I lifted the glasses up and hovered them over my nose like I was the one wearing them. Then I tilted them down and glanced over the tops. Then I flipped them back and forth a few more times while Primrose held her hands steady.
“Do you see something?” she asked.
“Holy smokes,” I said. “Mason White was a Reserve.”
Chapter 16
Primrose trailed behind me as I click-clacked my way back to the lab. My shoes sounded impatient against the floor, probably because I could barely keep my pace below a jog.
I burst into the room. Primrose followed just seconds behind me, panting and out of breath from our jaunt down the hallway.
“The gnomes found a way to erase Residuals,” I blurted to Felix. “Our vic was a Reserve.”
Felix swallowed a bite of his chocolate covered doughnut, then brushed a bit of powdered sugar off his shirt. “How do you figure?”
“These glasses,” I said, holding them in front of my face. “When I look through them, I can’t see Residuals. Primrose, do a quick spell but don’t let me see or hear it. I’ll turn around.”
“Um,” she said, then jumped to attention. “Okay.”
I turned around, squinted my eyes shut, and plugged my ears. When Felix tapped me on the shoulder, I turned around. There was an obvious cluster of fiery-colored dust-like particles clinging to Primrose’s palm.
“Torch Touch,” I stated. “Red Residuals all over the place. Okay, now try it one more time. Something else. Something I can’t see or hear.”
I repeated the whole turning around process. When Felix tapped my shoulder again, I slid the glasses onto my face and turned around. I stared at Primrose, but aside from a slight yellowish tinge, the world looked completely bare to me. Naked.
My heart started racing. I leaned forward, peered at Primrose’s palms. “Are you sure you did a spell?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Felix watched me.”
Felix nodded. “It’s there.”
I blinked, stared around. Then I swiveled in a circle and caught sight of a completely Residual-less world. It was terrifying.
I’d always wondered what it would be like to see the world like my brothers, my parents, the rest of the cops in the Sixth Precinct. However, now that I had the chance to live like everyone else, I wanted to go back to the way things had been. It felt like a limb had been torn off, or like I was suddenly trying to operate without my sense of smell or taste or sight. My world wasn’t complete.
I took the glasses off, tossed them gently on the counter. “That’s awful.”
“What?” Primrose asked. “You couldn’t see anything?”
I glanced at her carefully, skeptically. To my relief, a light pink cloud of glittering Residuals snaked up Primrose’s arm. “Was it a Tulip Turner?”
“It was!” Primrose smiled as if she was enjoying this little presentation. “So, it really is the glasses?”
I nodded. “Mason must have been a Reserve! This is the string that is going to unravel the whole case. I can feel it.” I rested my hands on Primrose’s shoulders. “See what I mean? We just had to keep tugging, and eventually, something gave.”
Primrose gave a nervous giggle at my excited voice, glancing over her shoulder as if to confirm with Felix that I wasn’t crazed and dangerous.
“It all makes sense now,” I said to Felix and Primrose. “Think about it. Everyone has been saying that he’s different. I know what they mean now. It’s hard to put a finger on it if it was never diagnosed. I figure Mason made a few comments that got other magical people looking at him funny. He knew things he shouldn’t have. Spells performed, things like that. And the door his sister said he stared at? I’m sure it was covered by Residuals.”
“Why would the White family have a door covered by Residuals?” Primrose asked. “There’d have to be a lot of spells to draw Mason’s attention, right? I mean, he was obviously used to seeing bits here and there on everyone. It probably was enough to drive him nuts because he wasn’t sure what it was. And even if he did eventually figure it out, he obviously kept it a secret and didn’t want to share it with anyone.”
“I wonder why,” Felix mused. “We’re all different in one way or another, and being a Reserve is just a branch of that.”
“True, but apparently he got made fun of in a bad way when he was a kid,” I said. “I’m guessing he shared his secret with someone he trusted, a friend, and this friend didn’t handle the news well. Either the kid made fun of him, disowned him, called him crazy, or something like that. A kid hears that when he’s young from someone he looks up to, and it hurts. It stings for kids to be different. It’s not until we’re grown adults that being different suddenly turns cool and special. It’s a hard switch for some kids.”
“He probably figured out what it was called as an adult,” Primrose said. “I mean, he had to know what was happening in order to request the glasses from the gnomes. That can’t be easy magic to do, especially since most of us can’t even see the Residuals. How are the gnomes supposed to create a product when they can’t see the things they’re testing against?”
“It might also explain why we’ve got your name on a slip of paper,” Felix said. “Maybe he was looking for another Reserve to talk to. There aren’t many, and there sure as hell aren’t a lot in Texas. He could’ve come up to find others with his gift, if you will, and learn abo
ut it.”
“Or maybe he figured he’d try to be helpful,” Primrose said with a shrug. “Maybe he wanted to offer a pair of glasses to other people like him. Jennifer—Mason’s girlfriend—said that he was much calmer, happier, energetic after he got the glasses. Maybe he wanted to share the good news with others like him.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But I don’t know—would he go through all that effort out of the kindness of his heart? Moreover, it’s not like I keep my status as a Reserve a secret. He didn’t need a meeting on the sly to get my name, nor did he need to enroll in Orientation. He could have just asked around.”
“He hadn’t lived in the magical world for almost two decades,” Felix pointed out. “Maybe he needed a refresher. How would he know who you are?”
“True,” I admitted. “Well, I guess it’s helpful, this knowledge, but it doesn’t prove anything yet. It does explain his social anxiety bit. I’m sure whenever he crossed paths with a witch or wizard in the human world, he could see their Residuals and got nervous he might be recognized back. The glasses helped with that.”
“So where does this leave us?” Primrose asked. “We know he had Reserve tendencies, and we can assume he wasn’t thrilled with them based on his actions. But would someone kill him over that?”
I shook my head. “I agree, we’re not quite connecting the dots yet.”
“What about the mystery meeting?” Primrose asked. “Did you find anything else on that yet?”
I glanced at Felix who was watching me carefully, but at my gaze, he looked down at his toes.
“We’re not sure yet,” I said. “Felix is running some new fingerprint tests on the notebook. I did get an eyewitness who thought he saw the meeting.”
“That’s great!” Primrose jumped in enthusiastically, eyes shining. “Right? Isn’t it? Who is it?”
