Be My Banshee (Purple Door Detective Agency Book 1)

by Joyce Lavene

  “What about Wikipedia? I was dismayed to see myself there, but perhaps there is such a thing for shapeshifters.”

  “No,” Jane replied. “Wikipedia probably has a general page for shifters, but a shifter would have to be famous or historical, like you, to have his own page.”

  “Did these murder victims have anything else in common?”

  Jane glanced through the obituaries for the three victims that she’d found. “Well, two of them lived in Richmond, like I said. It was a man and a woman. They were married, in their fifties. Had children. Wait! They both worked for the State of Virginia. They both worked in the same office, which was where their bodies were found. Oh! It was the state office for grants, specifically artistic grants.”

  “I comprehend some of what you say. Are these grants from the king of artists?” Aine watched the images of where the two people were found fly by on the screen with the obituaries and put a hand to her head. They were quite dizzying.

  “Not a king or a queen. But our government gives money to artists. The place where these two were killed funnels that money into the state.”

  “What about the dead one in the other land you mentioned?” Aine asked, not recalling what Jane had said. She had never heard of such a place.

  “Washington,” Jane repeated for her. “Let’s take a look.” She zoomed to the information she’d pulled up for that victim. “Guess what? That woman was in her forties, married with children, and worked for the National Arts Foundation. In other words, the place where the grant money came from in the first place.”

  “That was a great nap.” Tom looked around the office as he smacked his lips and stretched. “I’m getting kind of hungry again. Got any pizza left?”

  Jane shrieked and immediately became a small mouse in Sunshine’s chair.

  Frustrated as they were about to unfold some truth that could help them, Aine got to her feet. “Be gone, lazy bumpkin. There will be food a ‘plenty when we finish our task. Do not enter here again or face my wrath.”

  “Okay. The witch said there would be enough to eat. I’m not trying to cause any trouble. A man could starve to death out here.” Tom turned and went back to the outer office.

  Aine closed the door behind him. “It is safe, little one. He will not bother us again.”

  Jane resumed her human form but anxiously stared at the door. “I should order more pizza. I’m sure O’Neill will be hungry when he wakes up too. And there’s Lloyd. Sunshine might even want to eat.”

  She picked up the phone and ordered a dozen pizzas, adding the cost of them to the Purple Door Detective Agency’s tab with the local pizzeria.

  When that was done, and Jane seemed less upset by the shifter, Aine coaxed her into going back to the magic box for more information.

  “What does all that mean?” she asked.

  “I’m not completely sure,” Jane admitted. “But it seems to me that three people in two other places who basically do the same job being ripped apart means something. We’ll have to show it to Sunshine when she gets back. She’ll know what it means.”

  Aine was angry that the words meant so little to her. She could understand much of the new language when she listened to speech carefully, but reading it was difficult. She was sure Jane was right, however. Sunshine would know what to make of it.

  The front doorbell rang a few minutes later. Jane went to answer it, grateful and slightly less afraid, when Aine said she would accompany her. It seemed unlikely that the harpy would use this conventional means of breaching the building, but Aine wanted to make certain everyone was safe.

  The pizza delivery man looked up at the tall woman dressed in black, and his mouth dropped. Jane took one of the boxes from him. Aine took the others.

  “Uh…tip?” He held out his hand.

  Aine looked at his delicate pink member and spit into it. “Thus I seal our transfer.”

  Horrified, the young man ran back to his car that had a pizza on top. Aine closed the door and locked it behind him with what seemed to be a delicate piece of metal to ban those who would enter without permission. Where was the wooden slab to bar the door?

  “Pizza!” Tom jumped up from his place in front of the TV.

  Jane lost control, reverting to her real self, and was covered by a large box holding a hot pepperoni pizza.

  O’Neill sat up abruptly during the chaos and looked around himself. “What the hell is going on?”

  Aine grabbed the pizza box and freed Jane before she flung the box at the shifter.

  She set the other boxes on the table near the kitchen as the mouse skittered into the other room.

  “Are you hungry, O’Neill?” She shook one of the boxes. “The smell isn’t horrible, but the food seems hard and dry. Do you require other sustenance?”

  “I don’t require any sustenance,” he said. “But some answers would be nice.”

  They all heard a key scrape in the door that Aine had just locked. She stood ready, facing it while O’Neill pulled his service revolver. Tom ran to hide in the kitchen.

  Sunshine breezed through the door with Lloyd Samson right behind her. “Well. It looks like the party is ready to get started. I hope there’s plenty of pizza.”

  Lloyd and Tom swapped tales of close calls that they’d been fortunate to survive as they bonded over pepperoni. O’Neill ended up taking a slice from Jane, despite his anger. Sunshine took two slices of cheese pizza and went into her office.

  She was quickly joined by O’Neill, Jane, and Aine. Sunshine explained how she’d done a location spell and found Lloyd hiding in the sewer. She’d insisted on him cleaning up before they came back to the agency.

  “There was no sign of the harpy this time,” she said. “I’m sure she’s still looking for the other two shifters. Every time I hear a swishing sound, I cringe. I’m not crazy about the idea of getting a harpy tangled in my hair.”

  “What about me?” O’Neill demanded. “You can’t just go around putting spells on people—especially police detectives. And what was the point?”

  Sunshine patted his hand. “We just want you to be safe. It’s important to us.”

  He glanced at Aine. “You give me some witch’s word that it won’t happen again, or I’m walking out of here and spending the rest of my day on the street taking pot shots at anything that flies.”

  Aine’s sharp intake of breath was noticeable in the quiet room when he was done speaking.

  “There’s no reason to be hostile,” Sunshine said. “We were only doing what we thought was best for you. You are human, after all, with no magic to protect yourself.”

  He nodded at the wound on her face. “It doesn’t look like magic helped you all that much.”

  “It would’ve killed you, detective,” she said. “Aine is the only one of us who could survive a full-on harpy attack. But between us, we might have a chance against her. She’s going to come here for Tom and Lloyd. Let’s not bicker. We need to be united against her.”

  O’Neill studied her pretty face. “Don’t use magic against me again. I’ll go along with the team up. I’ll keep your asses out of jail. But not unless I have your word that it won’t happen again.”

  “You have my word, O’Neill.” Aine’s voice was quiet but certain. “She will never use magic against you again—or she will answer to me. I don’t believe the witch wants that.”

  Sunshine calmly blotted her lips with a napkin to be certain there was no pizza left on them. “All right. You have my word that I won’t use magic for or against you again, O’Neill.”

  Jane laughed timidly. “You should spit in his hand now. That’s what Aine did when the pizza delivery guy asked for a tip.”

  O’Neill grinned. Sunshine shook her head.

  “Your customs are strange to me,” Aine said by way of explanation. “If that was not the proper response to ending our association, tell me, and I shall learn from the experience.”

  None of them said anything in answer to her query. Jane gathered the p
lates and napkins together.

  “What do we do now?” O’Neill asked.

  “We wait.” Sunshine kicked off her pumps. “The harpy has been methodical about killing the shifters. I don’t think it will take long for her to pick up their scent.”

  “I’m going to get my assault rifles.”

  “I shall accompany you,” Aine said.

  “I found something on the computer that you should see,” Jane told Sunshine. “Aine thought it might be important too. I’m not sure.”

  “Let’s take a look at it.” Sunshine turned on her monitor.

  Aine went outside before she would allow O’Neill through the door. She scanned the deep blue skies above them and sniffed the air. There seemed to be no sign of the harpy. She gestured to him that he could safely go to his car.

  “You two are more worried about me than my own mother,” he grumbled, taking out his car keys as he approached the green car. “I’m a grown man—a trained police detective with years of experience—I can take care of myself.”

  Aine kept her green eyes on the sky. “Hurry.”

  “From what I’ve read, you should be eager for me to die. You’ve already shrieked once for my death. I guess you’re not that worried or you’d be screaming right now.”

  “I have never been eager for the death of an O’Neill,” she assured him. “And the death song comes to me when it will. I do not sense your impending destruction at this moment, but we are all in the harpy’s sights. Caution seems prudent.”

  He opened the trunk and took out three assault rifles with extra rounds. “But since I’m the last of my family line, you’d be free, right? You wouldn’t have to stick around anymore. You could finally go to the underworld.”

  “Do not think of it so,” she counselled. “Your time will come and I will be there for you.”

  She’d been scouting around them, watching for the harpy, ignoring what he was doing.

  Before he removed the guns from the trunk, he reached out and grasped her hand. Aine immediately transformed into the younger version of herself. The sunlight glinted in the bright red strands of her hair. Her complexion was milk-smooth with hints of pink in her lips and cheeks. Her soft eyes were lined with thick, dark lashes.

  “Who will be there to sing your death song and guide you to the underworld?” he asked in a low tone as he stared into her beautiful face.

  “You understand little about me, O’Neill,” she replied in a voice as sweet as summer. “This form was once me but no longer. I am beane Sidhe.” She moved her hand from his and became the ragged crone. “This is my true form now as my body rots in my tomb. There will be no death song for me, and I do not hope for the peace of the underworld. Get your weapons. We should not tarry out here for long.”

  But O’Neill seemed to know the heart of her and didn’t hesitate to call it back, despite that she was his protector. It frightened Aine and made her furious at the same time. She had nothing to threaten him with and could only stay away from him to keep it from happening again.

  “I’ve got the guns,” he said finally as he slammed the trunk closed. “Let’s go.”

  There was no attack from the harpy. It could be that she was only interested in them as targets if they had one of the shifters she sought. If so, Sunshine’s current plan would work admirably.

  Once they were back inside and the guns were stowed in a closet, O’Neill turned to Aine. “I’m sorry. You’re right—I don’t understand what you’re all about. But I’d like to. I won’t touch you again. I promise. I’d still appreciate it if you don’t give up on me.”

  His statement was greeted with a disgusted huffing sound, and Aine walked away from him. What ploy was this? She had lost her touch when it came to dealing with O’Neill men. Or perhaps he wasn’t sufficiently frightened of her. Their meeting was different, and their circumstances—working together—was unusual.

  “I guess we’re ready for her,” Sunshine said brightly. She took a good look at the two of them, facing each other with bewildered and angry expressions, and knew what was wrong. “We just have to wait now. I think Jane is right about those other deaths being part of the whole thing. Why don’t you go take a look at the computer, O’Neill?”

  He grunted and left them with a last look at Aine.

  She relaxed and resumed her middle-aged woman in black form. “Thank ye.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” Sunshine took her into the kitchen for privacy. “He’s gorgeous, and you own him. Why the shroud and black eyes?”

  “I do not own O’Neill. If the truth be told, it would be closer to he owning me. But it is difficult to understand the relationship between the beane sidhe and her charge.”

  “Save me the speeches,” Sunshine hissed. “There’s something going on between you—I can feel the magic. Why not let it happen?”

  “You are daft. There is nothing that shouldn’t be there, unless it is that O’Neill is lacking the necessary fear of death he should experience when he sees me. Instead he insists on dragging out my younger form. I do not understand.”

  “You were hot.” Sunshine winked as she made a cup of tea. “Of course he’d rather deal with you that way. The crone is kind of scary. This form in black is safe, but what young man wants to be safe?”

  Aine thought about her words as they joined Jane and O’Neill in Sunshine’s office. Lloyd and Tom were watching cartoons in the outer office. There was the edge of calm before the storm in the building.

  O’Neill agreed that the deaths seemed too similar to be dismissed. “But who were her targets? Three people working for the grants end of the arts endowment. I don’t get why anyone would be willing to kill for a grant.”

  “There was a large grant involved,” Jane said. “It was over one hundred thousand dollars, not to mention several premier gallery showings for the artist ending at a gala presentation at the National Arts Museum in Washington.”

  “Hold on a sec.” O’Neill looked at the screen again. “Jane, can you pull up the name of the winner? I suddenly have a bad feeling about this.”

  Jane did as he asked. The images changed, and the face of the winner was displayed on the monitor.

  He ran his hand through his hair and left Sunshine’s office without a word.

  “Did he see a ghost?” Sunshine asked as she sat in the chair beside Jane. “The winner is Elena Spiros. Oh. My. God.”

  Aine stared at the face on the screen. “O’Neill’s lover guides the harpy.”

  Jane grabbed a few seeds. “Yikes.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  “What?” Sunshine reached over and added something to the search on the computer. “Are you sure?”

  “I am certain,” Aine said. “I was with them as they made love.”

  The two other women paused to stare at her.

  “Many men die in bed with their mistresses,” Aine explained her presence. “I did not want O’Neill to die without me.”

  “We need to talk about that,” Sunshine said. “But it will have to wait. So Elena wanted this money and her fifteen minutes of fame, so she conjured up a harpy? It takes more than that. She must have magic or otherworldly connections. Just any woman who wanted to win a contest couldn’t summon a creature that’s been nearly extinct for a thousand years or so.”

  O’Neill came back in the office. “If she’s a witch, she didn’t tell me. I confess that I don’t know a lot about her. We’ve only been together a short time. She’s ambitious and passionate about her work. I’m sure anyone who could do it would kill their competition—or in this case, the people who decide who gets the money. I’m going to call Malto and have her pick up Elena.”

  “For what?” Sunshine asked him. “You can’t prove she told the harpy what to do, and even if you could, no jury would convict her.”

  “But why would she want the shifters dead?” Jane asked quietly. “Are they artists too?”

  “I don’t know about Tom,” Sunshine replied. “But Lloyd and Amos were in a band t
ogether. I suppose you could consider the tattoo guys artists, but not in Elena’s league. John was certainly not involved in the arts. It doesn’t make sense.”

  O’Neill took out his phone. “All the more reason to have Malto pick her up.”

  “That could be dangerous,” Sunshine warned. “Even though Elena seems to be human, that doesn’t mean she can’t call the harpy if she needs to.”

  “We need to question her,” he said. “She might have the answers.”

  “I agree. But we should go together and not chance one person dealing with a harpy by themselves. Unless you want to send Aine. I’m not worried about her since she’s already dead.”

  They all stared at the beane sidhe.

  “I would be pleased to bring Elena here so she could call the harpy. That would make this waiting more bearable.”

  Sunshine considered it, tapping her purple fingernail on the desktop. “No. We better not do that. What if there’s something else involved that we aren’t seeing? Even if Aine was okay, the harpy could turn on her summoner and kill Elena.”

  “Okay. Then we go together,” O’Neill decided. “I’ll leave Malto out of this one.”

  They agreed to travel to Elena’s apartment without using his car.

  “It will keep us from giving anything away,” Sunshine said. “I’ll take you with me. Aine has her own means of transportation.”

  “You mean flying?” O’Neill gulped. “Like on a broomstick or something?”

  “Just grab your guns, honey.” Sunshine grinned as she took his arm. “You’ll be travelling first class with Air Sunshine. Trust me. It will be smooth as silk. You won’t even know you’re flying.”

  Jane giggled nervously. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Just keep those shifters fed.”

  “You mean like pizza and stuff, right?” Jane paled.

  “Definitely. Mouse isn’t on their menu.” Sunshine blew her a kiss. “This won’t take long.”

  There was a knock at the front door. Tension immediately hit everyone in the office.

  “You didn’t order more pizza, did you?” Sunshine asked.