by Joyce Lavene
“And on that note,” Sunshine said. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Whilst you were speaking with O’Neill,” Aine said, “I smelled the same odor as from the other murder. Whoever killed this man killed your wolf as well.”
“You’re thinking it was Caeford, aren’t you?” Sunshine asked as they got back in the elevator.
“It would make sense. The dragon wanted to throw suspicion on to us so he wouldn’t be caught in it.”
“He would never do such a thing,” Sunshine told her. “I’m not saying he wouldn’t hire someone to do it, but that dragon is too clever to get blood on his hands.”
“Perhaps he hired another then,” Aine suggested. “We should speak with him on the matter.”
“The police couldn’t touch him.” Sunshine’s brain was working a mile a minute. Something more was going on. She didn’t believe the ancient dragon killed John or this man. There was another answer.
“I myself have killed a dragon,” Aine said conversationally. “It is difficult but not impossible.”
Sunshine grabbed her arm as they reached the bottom floor of the building. “Let’s not talk about this right now. You! You actually talked to Detective O’Neill without turning into sponge cake. Congratulations. You found a way to handle it.”
“Why do you find food references to be so useful?” Aine asked. “There was no danger that I would be reduced to any of the food you’ve mentioned.”
“Yes, but I wasn’t sure you’d be able to look him in the eyes.” Sunshine was happy to see the change in her companion. “And he has such pretty eyes, don’t you think?”
Aine blinked. “His eyes have nothing to do with our relationship. The O’Neills have always been tall, straight, and handsome.”
“Come on.” Sunshine opened the door, and they walked back out into the waning afternoon. “It’s okay to think he’s good-looking. You can still haunt him—although I have a feeling you’d be haunting him and Detective Malto too. Did you see the way she looked at him? There’s something hot and heavy going on there. I wonder if the woman from the pizzeria knows about them.”
“I shall hope one of them bears him many children.”
“Good enough. I think we can do without that spell to help you. You appear to have found your banshee legs. You just needed some time to adjust. You’re going to be fine.”
“Thank you—although my legs have never been in question.” Aine wondered if everyone in this time spoke like Sunshine. “What about the dragon? Do we hunt him or allow the police to do so? I do not believe O’Neill could handle the beast.”
“Handle it? O’Neill would never believe it. Let me discuss this with Mr. Bad. He might have some answers, and I’ll know how to approach Caeford. In the meantime, you get settled in your room. If you need anything, let me know. I know you have a lot to adjust to. I’ll be happy to help in any way I can.”
Aine felt she had long since passed the time of pleasantries in her life. It was a surprise to find she had not. She enjoyed the witch’s banter and her kindness. Though she was only there for O’Neill, it was sweet to feel her warmth. It filled her as the sun had once done when she was alive.
After seeing Aine to the elevator, Sunshine went immediately to speak with Mr. Bad. He could be moody and difficult about small things, according to John. She hoped that wouldn’t be the case in speaking of the dragon. While Aine might be convinced a dragon could be killed, Sunshine had never known anyone to do such a thing. Fortunately for mankind, the few dragons left on earth had learned to disguise themselves and used cunning to survive instead of the flame.
She didn’t want to imagine that those times were going to change.
Sunshine knocked on Mr. Bad’s office door. He called for her to come in. As usual the room was in heavy shadow. She could make out his form at the desk but no details.
She’d lied to Aine when she’d told her she wasn’t curious about him. She wondered from the moment she’d met him who and what he was. But no amount of witchery, carefully applied, had brought those answers to her. She didn’t want to risk losing his support enough to peer deeper.
“Yes.” His voice was exhaled on a hoarse breath.
“You know why I’m here.” She sat in a chair near the door. She’d never been closer to him than this.
“Yes.”
“Did he mislead us? Did he kill John and the man who saw him on the rooftop? Because Aine and I agree that it was the same person who did both deeds. We both think—”
“I know what you suppose.”
“And?”
“I agree with you. The same person committed both murders.”
“Was that Caeford? I can’t believe he’d rip someone apart that way and not use his flame to cover it up. It would only take a single blast to destroy the evidence left behind.”
“It seems you have your answer.”
“And yet he’s the one who led us to the new murder.”
“So it appears.”
She got to her feet. “Thank you. Please let me know if you have any further insight.” She was a little put out by his lack of answers to the problem.
“Miss Merryweather?” He stopped her from leaving. “Sometimes insight is simply more questions that haven’t been answered.”
“I suppose that’s true. Aine and I are beginning to get along. I think you were right and she could be a valuable ally.”
“Yes.”
She knew their conversation was over when he didn’t speak again. Possibly from Aine’s challenge to know him better, she tiptoed toward his desk. The dark seemed to be deeper here, as though it was working to hide him from her. She leaned toward him, hoping to catch just a glimpse.
“Was there something else?” His voice was deep and strong, sounding as though he was right beside her when she could see his outline in the chair.
Not a nervous person by nature, still she gasped in surprise. “No. That’s it. Aine and I have to meet with the police again. Detective O’Neill may be the man she wants to be close to, but he’s a little too insistent for my taste.”
There was no response. This time, Sunshine walked to the door, closing it firmly behind her as she left his room.
What was she doing? What was she thinking? Mr. Bad needed his privacy. She’d always respected that need. She had plenty of other things to look into, especially if Caeford wasn’t the killer and yet now was involved in the murder.
She wouldn’t mention that to Detective O’Neill or his bulldog-like partner, Detective Malto, but she knew it was true. They wouldn’t know they were dealing with a dragon. Even if they somehow realized who he was and brought him in for questioning, no jail could hold him.
Sunshine put her mind to thinking about anything else the two murders might have in common. That task was over quickly since she couldn’t imagine anything.
“Jane? Are you here?” she asked.
“Yes. Of course.” Jane walked out of the supply closet. “Is there something you’d like me to do?”
“I was wondering if you could dig up some information about the man who was just killed on the roof. That might be a great help to me. You’re so good with the computer. I need something that might connect John’s death to the second man.”
“Okay. You know we’re almost out of donuts. I’d hate for a client to come in and there would be no donuts to serve.”
“I’ll be sure to get some while I’m out.”
“And some sweet cereal.” Jane’s nose twitched and her slender fingers moved as though she still had tiny claws.
“That too. Thank you.” Her young charge had a deathly fear of any type store. It probably reminded her too much of what had happened. Jane was a big help in many other ways, but she was always hungry.
The front door opened, and Sunshine looked up in surprise to see O’Neill and Detective Malto walk into the agency.
“We were waiting for you at the station,” he said. “When you didn’t show, we decided to drop by and check out y
our place.”
Detective Malto’s brown eyes swept over the abundance of purple in the waiting area. “Not bad if you like purple.”
“I do like purple.” Sunshine’s voice was friendly and warm. “Please have a seat in my office. Aine is resting from her ordeal on the roof. I’ll get her. Would you like some coffee or tea?”
“No.” O’Neill glanced toward her office. “Don’t leave us hanging, Miss Merryweather. We don’t want to look for you again.”
“I’ll be right back,” she promised.
As soon as they were in her office, she got in the elevator and went upstairs to get Aine. She knew this was more than just a quick visit for the detectives. They were snooping around, hoping to find something that would close the case for them. She wouldn’t let that happen even if it meant using magic on O’Neill and his partner. Aine would have to understand.
Sunshine rapped quickly at the bedroom door. When there was no response, she pushed it open and stared at the empty space.
Aine was gone.
Chapter Seven
Closing her eyes, Sunshine cast a broad spell to search for the banshee. Her concentration was tugged at from all directions making it difficult to maintain the spell. Maybe that was why she couldn’t find Aine. The spell should have been able to pinpoint her position within fifty miles. But there was no sign of her.
Now what?
Going back downstairs before the police detectives began looking through the rest of the building, Sunshine conjured as she went. They weren’t going to accept that Aine was gone. She had to allay their suspicions and then she could concentrate on finding her new associate.
Creating a magic duplicate of Aine was the only answer she could think of in the time it took the elevator to reach the ground floor. She was going to be drained when it was done, but it would take care of the issue. She could also control Aine’s answers to the detective’s questions. That would be a plus since the banshee’s responses were unreliable.
Sunshine got off the elevator with a smile on her pretty face. Aine’s doppelganger was there in her middle aged-form dressed in black. The hag version of her would scare the wits out of them, and the high queen form was over the top.
“Here we are,” Sunshine said as she entered the room. She moved magical Aine to a chair in the corner and had her sit but not look at the detectives in her usual, direct manner. “Now what can we do for you?”
The conversation was brief. Sunshine and Aine had ironclad alibis for both murders. They were involved in the case only from the standpoint of representing John Lancaster. They were on the rooftop following a lead in that case that happened to coincide with the second death though they knew nothing about the second victim.
Sunshine was starting to get a headache from the effort of keeping up the appearance that Aine was there. Worse, her magical version of Aine was starting to look blurred at the edges. It wouldn’t be long before someone began to question their vision—if they didn’t guess that she wasn’t real.
Jane burst into the room with an expression of extreme agitation. Her right leg was trembling violently. “Miss Merryweather—there’s someone to see you.”
“Please tell them I can’t be disturbed right now.” Sunshine could only imagine that Caeford was waiting for her in the outer office. Now was not the time.
“She insists. And I don’t want to upset her with her . . . powerful singing voice.” Jane’s finely drawn brows lifted.
“Oh.” Sunshine got to her feet. So did the magical Aine. “This will only take a moment, detectives. If you’ll excuse me.”
“Excuse me,” the doppelganger said.
“That’s all right.” O’Neill got to his feet too. Malto stood beside him. “I think we’re done here for now, Miss Merryweather. If you think of anything else we should know, give us a call.”
“I definitely will. Thank you for coming by. Jane will show you to the door.”
Jane started twitching all over and holding her hands in front of her. “I will? Of course I will.” This at Sunshine’s nod. “This way, detectives. Are you sure you wouldn’t like some coffee? I have to-go cups.”
While the detectives were focused on Jane, Sunshine let go of the magic version of Aine and opened a portal on the other side from the doorway they were using. She snatched Aine into her office and closed it then sank into a chair, exhausted.
Aine watched O’Neill and his partner leaving the room. “Is there a problem?”
“No. Not now. Where were you? The police came for a visit and you were gone,” Sunshine explained.
Aine dropped gracefully into an empty chair. “I fell asleep, I believe, and found myself in O’Neill’s home.”
“His home?” Sunshine hissed, careful of her tone since she could still hear Jane with the detectives as they were leaving the agency. “Why did you go there?”
“My quest will not be denied. I unconsciously went there to contact him.” She pushed back the black hood on her cape. “It was not something I did a ‘purpose. The bond between us is growing stronger now that I’ve met him.”
“I thought you had that under control?”
“I have control of my appearance. The emotional aspect wasn’t one I considered. I must claim my place in his life now. It could be worse if I don’t do what I am bound.”
“Fine. But you have to stop disappearing, whatever that takes. I had to create an alternate you from magic. The detectives didn’t only want to speak to me. Your presence was essential.”
“You duplicated me with magic?” Aine raised one brow. Storms of anger raged in her eyes.
“Calm down. It was only like a photograph of you. Just an image projected for the police.”
“Photograph?” Aine tried the word in her mouth.
“Painting,” Sunshine corrected. “Like a moving, speaking, painting of you.”
“That was clever.” Aine changed the subject. “I know where O’Neill lives now. I shall enter his dreams tonight. Once we bond and he understands why I’m here, that should take care of any future unexplained disappearances.”
“Do what you need to do. The detectives are satisfied with our explanation about the two deaths, at least for now.”
“What did Mr. Bad have to say about Caeford?”
“He was his usual noncommittal self. That’s the best we’re going to get from him right now.” Sunshine did her best to conceal her anger and frustration with him.
“It seems it might be best to replace Mr. Bad, despite his power. If he does nothing to help you, perhaps it would be better to find another who might be more responsive.”
The banshee didn’t understand Sunshine’s relationship with the strange man. Not surprising since sometimes she didn’t understand it herself. How could she explain that there were those moments when his wisdom made all the difference? Or that many of her clients were his friends?
“Mr. Bad comes in handy, besides paying rent.” Sunshine knew Aine would understand and respect that commitment. “He stays no matter what.”
“I see. A tale for another time then, eh?”
“Yes. Right now we need to see Caeford and decide if he’s telling the truth about his encounter on the roof. I have Jane working on the computer finding out what she can about the man who died there. I can’t imagine there could be any tie to John, but it’s possible.”
“And a computer would be a form of magic?” Aine asked.
“Electronic magic,” Sunshine agreed. “Let’s go.”
“That was too close,” Jane stammered as the two women walked out of the inner office. “My digestive system is not handling the stress. Maybe you should include nuts and seeds with the cereal and donuts when you go to the store. Nothing like nuts and seeds to quiet the belly. That’s what my mama always told us.”
Aine and Sunshine watched her rub her stomach.
“I’ll put that on the list,” Sunshine promised. “Have you learned anything about the dead man on the roof?”
Jane read w
hat she had on the computer monitor. “His name was Harley Matthews. He was thirty-two years old. Born and raised in Norfolk. He worked at a tattoo place over on Third Street, Tattoo Hell.”
Sunshine filed away that information. “Thanks. Keep digging, will you? We’ll be back after we see Caeford.”
Aine followed her to the car. “What magic that box has in it! The wonders of your time are very impressive.”
“Sometimes,” Sunshine agreed as she got in the car. “Sometimes I’m sure the old ways were better. No traffic jams. No police detectives—or you could get rid of them. There are a lot of handicaps put on witches today to keep real magic off CNN.”
Aine puzzled over that. “CNN?”
“That’s another one for later. Strap in. Let’s get this over with.”
Caeford lived in a deep sub-basement in the heart of the city. Sunshine parked the car at the curb outside the office building structure. It looked like any other older building from the fifties. No one would ever guess that a dragon lived here amidst the steel, concrete, and glass.
“This time we take the elevator as far down as we can and then the stairs,” Sunshine told Aine.
They were packed into a crowded elevator filled with men and women in suits carrying briefcases. Soft music played in the background as the arrival of each floor was heralded by a chime. No one spoke, searching instead on their handheld devices.
When they were finally alone for the basement floor, Aine spoke. She was starting to understand the secrecy of this time. “A good place for a dragon to dwell. But he unfurled his wings at a spot distant from this. He, too, must remain unseen in this place.”
“We all do—all magical creatures. It’s something we’ve learned.”
“It wasn’t that different during my time. Witches were frequently hunted and killed, especially those with no real power. Dragons were hunted to extinction for sport and the use of their body parts. It was the same with unicorns and other creatures. But perhaps if it were not so, this city you live in wouldn’t exist.”
“I guess there are good and bad things about each time in history,” Sunshine acknowledged. “Except for toilets. I never want to use a toilet in the woods—no holes in the ground with rude buildings over them. I like my toilets inside with water and flush boxes.”
