Be My Banshee (Purple Door Detective Agency Book 1)

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Be My Banshee (Purple Door Detective Agency Book 1) Page 3

by Joyce Lavene


  “You had feelings for the wolf.” Aine’s voice was like rustling leaves.

  “Yes.” Sunshine cleared her throat and fought to control her emotions. There was no chance for the vengeance she was seeking if she took the time to mourn him now. First the killer and then the tears. “But they won’t get in the way.”

  Finally Aine turned dead eyes to her. “How do you hold back emotions? How do you force yourself not to cry?”

  At first Sunshine thought the banshee was making fun of her. She bristled. But before she could lash out at the hag, Sunshine saw a tear slide down the bony gray face. She meant it. Aine was suffering because her O’Neill wouldn’t acknowledge her. She might not be up on all the banshee folklore she needed to work with one of them, but she knew what another soul in pain looked like.

  “I loved John with all my heart. I wanted us to be together forever. Now that he’s been taken from me, all I can think about is killing whoever took him. I won’t let myself fall apart until that’s done. That’s how I do it—because I have to. It’s the last thing I can do for him. Nothing is going to stop me.”

  The softer, human change came over Aine again. Her fierce, green eyes stared back into Sunshine’s suffering gaze. “I understand. This was done to me as well. Sean O’Neill has had his birthright stripped from him. You are right, witch. Nothing else matters until I find out who is responsible and make O’Neill realize who he is and who I am.”

  “I’ll help you with that,” Sunshine quickly said. “But I need your help to find John’s killer too. Can we agree to that—without the contract?”

  “Will he allow it?” Aine jerked her head toward the open door to indicate Mr. Bad.

  “I run the business. It’s unusual for him to say anything about it.” Sunshine smiled. “I really think he just wanted to make sure that you stayed.”

  “He is a wise and powerful man.” Aine considered the agreement that she had been tricked into. “I can agree to help you if you help me.”

  “Great!” Sunshine was happy to hear it. “Only one more thing—please call me Sunshine or Sunny or anything but witch. Okay?”

  “I shall not call you witch again, though I find it difficult to imagine your mother and father naming you Sunshine.”

  “That’s a whole other story. I was thinking we could go to the place where John was killed and see if you get any impressions from it. His death was heavily covered by magic that distracts my own. I know you can follow magic as well as blood. Maybe you can get something there that I couldn’t.”

  Aine was amazed that Sunshine knew about the beane sidhe. “How came you to such knowledge, witch—Sunshine? My apologies.”

  “That’s okay. I appreciate the effort.” Sunshine got up from her desk and grabbed her handbag. “Actually, there’s quite a lot of information about banshees if you know where to look. You have to stay away from the gaming information. Those people are looking for the kind of banshees they need to win.”

  “Gaming beane sidhe?” Aine followed her out of the office. “These are beane sidhe who do penance for their crimes by playing games with the families they serve?”

  “Not exactly. I’ll explain in the car.” Sunshine smiled at Jane, who was licking her hands clean of pizza. “Not in public, please. Take messages if anyone calls or stops by. Stay out of the cereal. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

  “Sure.” Jane put her hands in her pockets.

  “Car?” Aine asked.

  “A carriage without horses,” Sunshine explained as they walked into the parking lot that was shaded by dozens of mimosa trees. “It travels very fast, although probably not as fast as you can fly.”

  “I see.” Aine smoothed her hand over the purple convertible as Sunshine opened the doors. “And you do not fly?”

  Sunshine laughed. “I’ve been known to hike up my skirts on a broomstick or two in my time. But mostly I like my car, and it takes too much energy to fly. Get in.”

  Aine hesitantly got in the car and closed the door behind her. Sunshine started the loud engine that surprised her with its ferocity. No horses—except those from hell—would ever make such sounds.

  “Buckle up,” Sunshine advised as she held out the seatbelt. “And don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

  She urged the car forward and out of the parking lot into the street. They got stuck in traffic once, but mostly the roads were clear to the mall where John had been killed.

  “I would enjoy owning one of these devices.” Aine had a smile on her face. “It goes quite fast. No wonder you discarded the horses. Are all these other cars the same or only yours? Is it magic?”

  “Nothing magic about this. Just good old fashioned know-how from Henry Ford.” She parked beside two large, blue dumpsters at the back of the mall.

  “This is where your lover was killed.” Aine’s voice was deep and serious.

  “Yes.” Sunshine got out of the car and stood next to a large bloodstain on the pavement. The dumpster was covered in blood spatter. “John was a powerful werewolf. He knew what he was doing. Yet someone managed to catch him off-guard while he was a wolf. He was ripped to pieces, nearly shredded. I found him here, still in his wolf state, despite his death.”

  Aine crouched close to the blacktop and touched her finger to the dried blood. She inhaled of it deeply and then stuck it in her mouth.

  Sunshine looked away before she gagged. She hadn’t expected something so visceral from the banshee. She really needed to look up more information about her.

  “Yes,” Aine said. “There was definitely magic covering this death. Whoever killed him was a strong, fast predator. Probably not one of your breed.”

  “You mean not a witch,” Sunshine said when she could control herself. “What then? There aren’t many creatures that can destroy a werewolf that way.”

  “Perhaps another wolf.”

  “I thought of that. Do you smell anything of another wolf here? I tried a spell that should have shown me if a wolf killed John. There was nothing.”

  Aine’s jaws creaked as they moved while she rolled the taste of blood around in her mouth. “I cannot say—which is odd. Is there anything else I should see while we’re here?”

  “I think these dents in the metal were made by the attacker pushing John’s head into them.”

  “No. I don’t think so.” Aine put her hand in each of the dozen or so dents. “This was done by the attacker out of rage. He was hard put to kill the wolf, and it inflamed him. He used his fists to express that anger.”

  Sunshine forced herself to control her emotions. She swallowed hard and looked away. “Anything else from that?”

  “Behold my fist in this indentation.” Aine kept her hand there. It fit into the dent, but the shape was unique. “The attacker had clawed hands to make such a mark. It is another sign of his strength, yet he did not best the wolf easily. The fight was dreadful. The wolf depleted his strength. Have you searched for a creature with injuries such as these that had been inflicted during the battle?”

  “There are a lot of people in Norfolk,” Sunshine said. “It would be hard to find one large person with injuries unless we had help from the police. Would you know his scent?”

  Aine sniffed her hand, the ground, and the dumpster. “I believe I would know it, yes. Do you recognize the magic done here?”

  “No. I wish I did. I always thought every witch left a signature. But either this wasn’t a witch or she’s very good.”

  “I don’t believe a witch killed a wolf—not in this manner. Do you?”

  “No. But I don’t know what it was. And that bothers both me and Mr. Bad.”

  They walked around the corner of the dumpster and the O’Neill heir was waiting for them.

  “Detective Sean O’Neill.” He flashed his badge. “Were you two spying on me at the pizzeria? What do you know about the murder that took place here?”

  Chapter Four

  “Spying?” Sunshine’s hair crackled with energy. “I don’t think
so.”

  “It seems strange that you were there with your ‘actress’ friend and now you’re here.”

  In any other situation, Sunshine might have considered him attractive and interesting but not now. “We heard about the murder.” She shrugged, hoping Aine could hold it together. “We came to see what the crime scene looked like. Sorry.”

  “Okay. Let’s see some ID.” He put his hand out. “And I want to know what you’re really doing here.”

  Aine put her hands over her face. It was difficult to control her emotions around him. It was taking its toll on her. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep the human face she’d donned.

  “You too.” O’Neill glanced at her. “Let’s see some ID.”

  “She doesn’t have any,” Sunshine said. “She has amnesia that might be connected with this case.”

  “Case? Amnesia?” He checked Sunshine’s ID. “You’re a private detective? Is that right?”

  “Yes. And she’s my client.”

  “And how is it related to this investigation?”

  “I don’t know yet.” She was beginning to lose steam. She could use magic on him, but she had a feeling Aine would take exception to that. The aftermath could be an ugly contest between them.

  “Maybe you should let me help you with her problem, Miss Merryweather.” He handed her ID back. “This is a police matter. If she’s involved, we should know. Let’s take a ride, shall we?”

  Detective O’Neill allowed them to go to the downtown station in Sunshine’s convertible after she’d begged him on Aine’s behalf. He agreed but followed them there in his car, accompanied by a female detective.

  “Are you okay?” Sunshine asked Aine when they were alone. “Can you handle this?”

  She turned a face that was half hag to her. “I am not ‘okay.’ I do not understand any of this. I need to make contact with him. He needs to acknowledge me.”

  “So you completely fall apart when you see him.” Sunshine nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ve dated men like that before. But we have to do something about this. If you want to impress this O’Neill with who and what you are to him, you can’t turn into ice cream and melt at the sight of him.”

  “I do not understand your words. Ice cream? What is this? How do I avoid it?”

  Sunshine stopped the car outside the police station. “I could try putting a spell on you so you recognize him but keep your bearing.”

  “I could still be in the thrall of the enchantment that made me sleep for two centuries. I dare not risk losing any further time. When he is departed from this world, I go too. My only hope of fulfilling my pledge to this family is to see him wed and his wife fat with child.”

  “I don’t see the sweet thing at the pizzeria getting fat with anything.” Sunshine considered the situation. “But that doesn’t mean they can’t produce an heir together.”

  “There must be some way to make him understand.” Aine came as close to fretting over the problem as it was possible for one who had witnessed the horrors of the grave.

  “What would it have been like in your time, before you went to sleep?”

  “I would have waited until the heir reached puberty and entered his first man-dream as his beane sidhe. He would have been warned as a child to expect me. There would have been fear, but also gladness that I would predict his death so he could prepare.”

  “Okay.” Sunshine rolled the idea around in her head as Aine had rolled the blood around in her mouth. Her hair swirled around her as she considered what to do next. “So he needs to go to sleep and have a wet dream. I think that’s what you’re saying.”

  Aine nodded. “But he is well past his childhood.”

  “Not a problem. After all, it only starts then, right? You can get him used to the idea at any time. Hang in there. Let me handle this. Don’t say anything inside. I’ll explain my plan when we’re finished.”

  Aine accompanied Sunshine into the office with her head down. She was able to control her appearance but was still drawn to O’Neill. She had to keep herself facing away from him. This wasn’t the place to attempt to explain everything. She reminded herself that, without his recognition, they could have no meaningful relationship. He had to understand who she was and what she could bring to him.

  Police officers in uniform walked by them as they brought in new arrests. Detective O’Neill was courteous as he accompanied them inside and seated them at a small, metal table in a private room. He offered coffee, but Sunshine declined for them both.

  Finally he sat opposite them. Aine clung to Sunshine’s side as though she couldn’t leave it and stared at the floor.

  “Look, I’m not arresting you. I just want to find out what you know about the murder of John Lancaster.” He took out a pad of paper. “First of all, was that his real name? What else can you tell me about him? He didn’t have a job or a Social Security number. I can’t find a birth certificate.”

  “Has your medical examiner had a chance to look at the body? Does he know what killed him?” Sunshine felt as though they’d both fired warning shots at each other. Now they’d get down to the real battle.

  “If you’d seen the crime scene before it was taken care of, you’d know there wasn’t much of Mr. Lancaster left to ID. There was probably DNA, of course, but it’s too soon for that. We were fortunate to be able to use his teeth to figure out who he was. As for what killed him, we don’t know yet. I was hoping maybe you could tell us.”

  Sunshine knew that John Lancaster wasn’t John’s real name. Like many other werewolves and creatures that lived outside society, he regularly changed his name. A werewolf couldn’t be too careful. “I wish I could help, but I don’t know what killed John.”

  “Were you friends with Mr. Lancaster?” he probed. “Lovers?”

  “He and I were work associates.”

  “At the detective agency? Is that what he did for a living?” O’Neill wrote what she said.

  “When I first met him, he was a salesman for a silver company.” That had made her laugh when he’d first told her. She’d known what he was when she met him. The irony of him selling one of the few things that could kill him hadn’t missed her.

  O’Neill filled in that information and glanced at Aine. “How does she fit in? Was she his girlfriend? Did she hire you to find him?”

  “Actually that’s exactly what happened.” Sunshine gladly snapped up his explanation. “She came here looking for him and hired me to help her find him.”

  “So she could be involved in his death?”

  “No. She was with me when it happened. We were also with several other people, if you need their names.”

  “Yes. I’ll need those names. I know she speaks, Miss Merryweather. I heard her at the restaurant. I’d like to hear her side of the story.”

  “I’d like to help you with that, but she’s been traumatized. She didn’t even recognize John at first. She’s been to the hospital, but they can’t find anything physically wrong with her. The doctor said it could take time.”

  “Okay.” He wrote down what she told him, but the expression on his face said he wasn’t happy with it.

  Aine wanted to explain, but she knew it would only come out as babble. She listened carefully but had no idea what Sunshine was talking about.

  He glanced at them and shook his head. “Look. I’m going to be honest with you. I haven’t had this job for long. I need a good CI to help with information from the street on this, and maybe other cases. Maybe you could be that person, Sunshine.”

  He certainly has a winning smile. “I can help where possible,” she said. “But there’s the matter of confidentiality between me and my clients, including Mr. Lancaster.”

  “He’s dead,” he reminded her. “I think that ends when your client passes.”

  “Except in this case where my new client could also be in danger.”

  “All right. I have no reason to keep you. But if she gets her memory back, I need to know. If you hear anything that might
help us find Mr. Lancaster’s killer, I’d appreciate a call.” He put a business card on the table before her. “Thanks for coming in.”

  Sunshine grabbed it and got to her feet, one arm around Aine as though she was supporting her.

  As they were leaving, a short, tough-looking brunette walked in. She had a detective’s badge pinned to her side—O’Neill’s partner.

  Aine didn’t move away from Sunshine’s protective grasp as they walked quickly outside to the convertible. “Is it over? What will happen now?”

  “Get in the car. Now’s not a good time to talk. Did you see the look in O’Neill’s partner’s eyes? She’s not finished with us. I think we may be their only lead on John’s death. Let’s not ruffle her feathers.”

  “You mean you think she may try to harm him?” Aine demanded as she got in. “I won’t allow that. It is not his time to die.”

  “That’s not what I mean.” Sunshine got behind the steering wheel. “Right now, we need some space to figure this out. We can’t do that if she’s all over us or if you’re in a mental hospital because they can’t figure out what you are.”

  Aine blinked. “I cannot be held against my will if that is what worries you.”

  “How close are you usually with the O’Neill heirs?”

  “I have had deep friendships with many of the O’Neills. They have valued my advice and wisdom. Our bond is personal and deep.”

  Sunshine’s hair appeared as though it might fly away at any moment. She smoothed it down, straightened her purple dress, and kept driving. “Let’s not worry about it right now. I’m sure I can find a spell to handle this problem.”

  “Do not presume to work your magic on him,” Aine warned. “I would defend O’Neill with mighty force if necessary.”

  Just what I thought you’d say. “Take it easy. I’m not going to do anything to him. I was talking about you. Your relationship with him is all screwed up right now. How can you interact with him if you can’t look at him or talk to him without losing it?”

 

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