"All I know is that it was for bird shifters that didn't have a flock of their own kind in this area. She's a werepeahen. You know the female version of a peacock? That's the most unique thing about her," Tiffany said.
I answered the work question since Tiffany was blowing her nose. "She's a paralegal at Dotson and Company in Canton."
"Tiffany, what time did you call nine-one-one? What were you told?"
Tiffany flipped open her phone, to check. "Eight fifty-three. The guy I talked to said he could send a car through the neighborhood to look for anything suspicious. I could report her missing if she didn't show up in the morning. He told me I might have seen a sex game, or her boyfriend. Amber isn't the type. If she'd wanted me to drop her off for a game, she would've told me. And her boyfriend is a very nice human. Mark wouldn't do something like this."
"What's her boyfriend's full name?" Detective Wells asked.
"Mark Baker."
"Do you know what types of birds the other shifters are?"
Tiffany shook her head, "No."
"Could you describe the person who took Amber?"
"Not really. It was a man. He was big, very muscular. I couldn't see any of his features because he was wearing a high collared, long sleeve shirt, ski mask, gloves, and pants."
"How tall?"
"Six-three?" Tiffany answered.
"Did he say anything?"
"I don't remember."
"Why did the shifter think Adder was the man who abducted Amber?"
"He didn't say." With that Tiffany resumed crying.
I gave Tiffany another tissue and locked eyes with the man on the other side of the desk. Tiffany blew her nose, and plucked another tissue out of the box.
We studied each other, waiting for someone to break. Detective Wells dropped his pencil and his six fingered hand began tapping on the desk. "Ladies, let me be frank. I think you witnessed something terrible happen to your friend, and when the people who should've helped you didn't, you went to Ms. Oaks. Ms. Oaks has a very good reputation, which is an integral part of her business. She has no reason to damage that image. Tiffany, you are a respected private investigator. The worst that can be said about you is that you tend to work on cases relating to cheating spouses. As that is a perfectly respectable way to earn a living, and a blemish on your reputation would injure your business, you have no reason to lie. What I don't believe is Simon allowing Adder to stalk and abduct a woman."
Tiffany sat there looking shocked, while Detective Wells studied our reaction. Leaning forward, I matched his gaze. "I don't think he did. I heard a rumor that there has been a shift of power in the pack."
For a second, Detective Wells' profile wavered. He coughed, his profile solidifying, and he remained human.
I continued speaking as if nothing had occurred. "While you ponder that, and decide which questions you'd like to ask me, would you answer a question for me? What kind of shifter are you?"
His head tilted as he considered. "I'm a wereoctopus."
"Why live here?" I kept my jaw attached to my face, and didn't say anything stupid. I didn't expect someone who shifted into an ocean creature to be living in the land locked North Georgia mountains.
"Have you read about octopi? We tend to be deep ocean creatures, and I don't have any desire to be snacked on by a shark or orca. It's not fun to shift at the surface, swim down to a dark area, and chill out while trying to avoid being eaten. I can have more fun in Carter's Lake or Lake Blue Ridge."
"I hadn't thought of it that way. If you don't mind me asking, do all wereoctopi have extra digits?"
"Most of us have one extra finger or toe. It's very rare for someone to have extra digits on both hands."
The look on his face told me to stop asking questions about fingers and toes. "Thank you."
"No, thank you. It's refreshing to meet someone who doesn't look at me like I'm a science project gone wrong."
"You're welcome. Anyone who thinks that of you hasn't been around enough crazy witches. Send them my way. I know a few mad scientists who can set them straight."
He chuckled. "I hate to return this to unhappy topics, but I need to know why you think Simon isn't in charge of the pack. I hadn't heard that bit of gossip."
"Well," I answered, "there's the part about Adder taking Amber, but the real reason is because I heard it through the shifter grapevine. I don't have any evidence, or any names to give you."
Detective Wells sighed. "I'll see what I can do, but unless I get other witness statements or creditable corroborating evidence, I don't have enough to focus on any individual."
Before he could finish my phone rang. "I'm sorry I have to get this." I moved to a wall a few feet from his desk. "Oaks Consulting."
"This is Patrick Westmoreland with the Gilmer County Sheriff's Office. Could you tell me if an Energy Sensor was working? Half the ones I had active last night registered high levels of evil."
"Sure, but I would have to see the sensor in person."
"That's fine. My boss was willing to accept Package Five, the one that allows for hourly and case by case rates."
"Alright, we can sign the paperwork."
"When could you come by?" Patrick asked.
"I'm at the Gilmer sheriff's office right now. I was here on an unrelated matter speaking to Detective Wells."
"Oh, do you have time to look at it now?"
"Sure. I'll be over in a few minutes."
I walked back over to hear Detective Wells ask Tiffany if she wanted to file an official missing persons report.
"Excuse me. I need to attend to some business. Do you need me for anything?" I asked Wells.
"No. I have your number. If I have any more questions I can call you," he answered.
"Tiffany, I need to do some work here. Give me a call when you're done."
She nodded. "Ok, go deal with your business. I have a lot of papers to fill out."
I waited, rather awkwardly, by the door.
"Ms. Oaks?"
I turned to see a young guy, only a couple inches taller than me, with fiery red hair, standing nervously a few feet from me.
"I'm Patrick."
I held out my hand. "It's nice to meet you. I don't have the paperwork with me, but I can send it over later. Where are the sensors?" His hand shake nearly broke my bones.
"This way." He started walking. "Works for me. If I don't have the contract in a day or two, I'll give you a call."
I followed him through the door, down the hall, and into a small room on an outside wall of the building.
Patrick said, "I'm sorry if you're cold. They built this room so the walls would blow out if there was an explosion. It makes it hard to keep it warm."
His office had an old metal desk against one wall, with charts and papers strewn across it. The other wall had a long counter with a sink on one end. Two Energy Sensors were sitting on the counter and there was a box of them on a floor.
"These are a few of the sensors that tripped. The two on the counter surged to 'Very Evil,' temporarily returned to 'Bad Vibe,' and have now been stuck at 'Evil' for eight hours." Patrick gestured to the ones in the box on the floor. "Those suffered a similar fate. Before I tinker with them, I'd like to know if they're broken or if that's what they're sensing."
"I can do that." I set down my purse before returning to the sensors. There was nothing notable about them. The one I had in my hands was a bread loaf sized black box. On one side there was a dial with a needle that pointed to the categories: Very Evil, Evil, Bad Vibe, Neutral, Good Vibe, Good, and Very Good. Inside the box was glass with the spell etched on to it, and a sensor connecting it to dial. At the other side of the sensor was a small radio unit relaying the unit's identity and the current reading to the base station. I held my hand over the sensor, extending my power so I could feel the spell. The first taste I got gave me a feeling of contentment. Running my power along the spell and sensor, I didn't find any problems.
"Sowil," I said, casting a containment sp
ell. Concentrating, I fed happy feelings into the spell. The needle moved from Very Evil to Good. I started feeding the spell unhappy thoughts, and it moved to Bad Vibe.
I released the spell and the needle swung to Neutral before moving back to Evil. Picking up the next one I repeated the procedure and saw the same results. With a sigh, I turned to Patrick. "The good news is that they're working fine. In fact, I'd say their calibrated on the good side. What do you know about these sensors?"
He blushed. "Not as much as I'd like. I know they measure the energy of a small area and display the result."
"Basically, but what they measure is difficult to describe. Most people like to think that they measure the flavor of the land, building, people, and past events that linger. Usually, the sensors only work in a limited area because the energy of people, or events, can only travel so far. Sometime there is an energy so good, or so evil, that it travels a great distance and overwhelms other energies."
"So what are the sensors reading?"
"I'm not sure. I think most of the town would read one side or the other of neutral, and the police station would change based on who's here. The 'evil' to 'very evil' reading could be from one very bad event, or several bad events happening near the same time and place. I don't know which."
He shredded a paper towel. "What should I do?"
I shrugged. "Your job. There isn't much you can do, except keep your eyes open and the department informed."
"Thank you. About the gremlins, before I could get the camera out they stopped making trouble. I haven't had any more reports of issues with them. Is there any reason they would suddenly stop being a nuisance?"
"I can't think of a reason, but I don't have much experience with them. Have there been any sightings?"
"One or two, but they haven't caused any trouble."
"Very odd. Count your blessings for now, and if they crop up again we'll deal with them." Gremlins were covered in some of my books. I would need to refresh my memory before I could offer more information.
"Um, I have another question." Patrick stared at the box of sensors. "Lately there have been several suicides. Could those affect the sensors and cause an evil reading?"
"Sure, that's a negative event that affects a lot of people, creating more negative feelings."
He nodded. "I know, that part I get. What I don't understand is why the readings weren't as high near the suicide as they were across town."
"What?"
"That's what I thought when I made the connection, but when there is a suicide there's a spike from the Chatsworth Highway direction. My sensors end at the edge of the city limits, but I'm thinking about moving a few further out there because I've gotten more spikes, and higher spikes from that area than anywhere else."
"Are there any other inconsistencies in the suicides?" Before he could answer my phone rang. "Give me a minute. I have to take this." I answered the phone with my usual greeting.
"Michelle? It's Hal." He was shouting over screams, crashes, and a strange growling sound.
I plugged my other ear, hoping it would help hear him. "It's me. What do you need?"
"Where are you?" Gunfire sounded on his end of the connection.
"I'm at the Gilmer County Sheriff's Office. What do you need?"
"I'm sending a chopper. It'll be there in seven minutes, back parking lot. I need you-" a crash and a boom sounded from his end of the phone. "Syed, that was close. I've got a T-Rex stomping through town. We can't stop it, we can't kill it, and we need magical back up. The pilot will fill you in. I've got to go." He didn't wait for me to agree before he hung up the phone.
If Hal was using Syed's name it was bad. In the legends, Syed was known for eating children and being the mother of evil. I glanced at Patrick. "I guess you heard that?"
"Some of it."
"The Lumpkin County Police are sending a chopper for me. I'm told it will land in the back parking lot." I stopped because his office phone was ringing.
"Westmoreland," he answered. A few grunts and a, "Yes, sir," later he was addressing me. "If you need anything other than your purse we need to run. You've got nine minutes to grab it, and get to the parking lot. They've cleared a space for the chopper to land."
"I've got to get my kit out of the car. What's the fastest way there?"
"This way." He took off, and I followed him.
We dashed down the hall, and I figured this was the best chance I had to finish our conversation. "If you want me to look at the suicides, send me the case files. No charge unless I help you with the cases." I stopped talking to pant.
"Will do." We zipped across a room and out the lobby.
Patrick dodged an officer wrestling a man in handcuffs down the hall.
"Make sure Tiffany takes my car home." I spat out before gasping for breath beside the car. I dug through my purse, grabbing my keys and popping open the trunk with it.
"Which bags do you need?" He gestured to the three duffels in my trunk.
"All of them."
"Breakable?"
"Yup." I grabbed the bag with the most delicate items, and he took the other two. We set off at a fast trot, circling the outside of the building.
We were six feet from the back corner of the building when we heard the chopper. We sped up, rounding the back of the building in time to see the dark green chopper, with an American flag tattooed on the side, land in the parking lot. A guy jumped out and ran over to meet us. "I'm Lieutenant Johnson. You don't have to duck, the blades won't hit you. Let me help you with those bags." He took the bags from Patrick.
"Patrick, thank you. Remember to tell Tiffany to take my car home. The keys are in my purse. Oh, send me those files too." I shoved my purse into his hands. It was safer with Tiffany and I didn't need it to face off with a dinosaur. Patrick waved to me as I ran towards the helicopter.
Lt Johnson stowed the two duffels he was carrying before grabbing mine and adding it to the stack in the back of the helicopter. He buckled me into the seat and handed me a headset. As soon as he was buckled in the pilot took off. When we were off the ground and headed for Dahlonega I heard Lt Johnson's voice in my ear. "Ms. Oaks, the pilot is Major Mann."
"'ello Ma'am," Maj Mann said.
"Hi, Major."
Lt Johnson started filling me in on the situation. "Hal wanted us to fill you in because he was busy. About an hour ago someone called the police saying they'd seen a T-Rex headed for the Wal-Mart. The police sent a car around, and sure enough, there was a pink and purple dino smashing the old Movie Gallery and making a beeline for the Wal-Mart. Anyway, back-up, and more back-up was called. The officers couldn't do anything because they didn't have a gun that could get through its hide.
"There was talk of calling the National Guard unit, or an Army Reserve unit, but since they live in town, it didn't make a lot of sense to make a bunch of guys cross town, and the T-Rex's path, to gear up, then go back out to fight the dino. Instead, they called the Rangers at Camp Merrill," Lt Johnson finished.
"Wait, I thought those guys were in training?" I asked. Camp Merrill in Dahlonega was where the Army Rangers completed the mountain phase of their training.
"Well, all of those guys had their Army training before they started Ranger school. Also, they were already gathered in one place, easily armed, and ready to roll out in groups. The problem was the Rangers couldn't hurt the T-Rex, but they did a great job at making it mad. At that point Hal and some Ranger witches figured there was magic in the beast. That's when he got the ok to send us down to get you."
"Anyhow, Ol'Rex has trashed the empty Movie Gallery, half the Wal-Mart, the tourist gold mine, a CVS, Chick-fil-A, and last I heard it was working on a gas station."
"And they thought it was a good idea to let it linger there?" A gas station. What could go wrong?
"Like I said, they weren't having much luck containing it. Its twelve feet tall and thirty feet long."
"Anything else I need to know?" I was still having a hard time getting my brai
n around the idea of a real, live, T-Rex stomping through a town. Not to mention, I didn't think they were naturally pink and purple. Anything they could tell me was a clue as to what I was dealing with, other than thirty feet of angry reptile.
"You know everything I do," Lt Johnson answered.
"Alright. Where are we landing?"
"Not sure," Maj Mann rumbled. "I'm waiting to hear if there's a safe zone close by. I'm not risking the chopper."
Maj Mann stopped talking to me and listened to someone on his headset. He answered a few of their questions, and then answered mine. "There's a post office up the road from the gas station. We'll set down and let you out. King has a car and some guys meeting you there."
Before I could ask another question, the helicopter slowed down and landed. Lt Johnson jumped out, handed me one duffel, took the other two, and headed to a black, crew cab pickup.
"Pickup truck?" I asked.
"Yah, it belongs to the county. They wanted you in it in case you needed to go off road to avoid the T-Rex." Three guys, two in uniform, and one in jeans and a long sleeve shirt, jumped out of the truck. Johnson set down the duffels and double-timed it back to the helicopter.
"Ms. Oaks?" A short guy in uniform asked.
"Yes, but please call me Michelle."
"I'm Sergeant Cooper, this is Specialist Trent," the thin uniformed guy tipped the brim of his hat. "And, this is Middleton." Middleton was five-ten, with short brown hair, and big bulging muscles. "We are your physical protection and ride. I've worked with witches before. What do you need us to do?"
"I can't be sure until I get a feel for the dinosaur, but I need a good view and easy access to my duffels. Other than that I'll trust your judgment. I haven't even seen this thing yet." I slid my wand out of the duffel I'd been carrying.
"We can fix that. You've got shotgun," Sgt Cooper finished. The guys stowed two of my duffels on the floor of the back seat, and strapped the third one on to the middle seat with a seatbelt before taking the two window seats. Middleton slid behind the wheel, and I buckled up, wishing I was in a more secure seatbelt, perhaps one with five points rather than three.
A Witch's Path Page 8
