Winged Reaper

by Shelley Russell Nolan

  ‘Tyler, are you okay?’ Rhonda asked as Connor navigated my small car off the grass and into the carpark.

  I shook my head, not ready to speak, looking for any sign of Dad and Denise.

  Rhonda saw me scanning the carpark and gave a bitter laugh. ‘Your father and wife number one took off the second you got us released. I‘d have followed suit but Connor insisted we stick around to see if you needed rescuing. Not that there was anything either of us could have done, if it all went sour on you.’

  ‘Mum, Tyler just saved our lives. Again. You could try being a little nicer to her.’

  ‘It’s because of her we needed saving in the first place. She’s a trouble magnet, and I don’t want you caught up in it.’

  I smiled; the familiarity of Rhonda being mean to me kind of soothing. At least one part of my life was back to normal. I had no idea how to get the rest of my life to follow suit.

  Rhonda’s lament that I was a trouble magnet was proven right when we got back to Chris’s penthouse and found two police officers waiting to speak to me.

  This was not going to be good.

  32

  The female officer gave me a cool smile. ‘Miss Morgan, I’m Detective Sanders and this is Detective Johnson. We’d like to ask you a few questions about Emily Wilson.’

  I struggled to keep my voice steady, glad I’d used a headband to hold my fringe back, not wanting such a blatant reminder this was not my body every time I caught sight of my reflection. ‘Why? Is she okay?’

  ‘That’s what we’re trying to determine. When was the last time you saw her?’

  ‘Ah, that would have been Saturday morning. We went over to see my stepmother,’ I waved a hand at Rhonda, ‘and while we were there a friend of hers came by. She said she was going to be staying with them for a few days.’

  ‘Do you happen to know their name or where they live?’

  ‘She didn’t say. I was talking to Rhonda when she left so I didn’t see who picked her up.’ I frowned, looking from one detective to the other. ‘What’s going on? Is Emily in trouble?’

  ‘Her parents haven’t heard from their daughter since Friday night, and she’s not answering her phone or been in contact with any of her friends. Mr and Mrs Wilson thought she was staying with you and aren’t aware she knew anyone else in Easton. Yet you’re saying she did, but you don’t know who?’

  ‘I’m sorry. I wish I could be more help. All I know is it was a guy she was going to stay with, but other than that she didn’t tell me anything.’

  ‘And you didn’t ask?’

  ‘Look, I just met Emily. I really don’t know anything about her. I certainly didn’t feel it was my place to pry into her life.’ I worked hard to maintain eye contact with Detective Sanders, well aware her partner’s eyes never left my face.

  ‘You let her stay with you for two nights, even though she was a complete stranger?’

  ‘It was clear we were related, so of course I let her stay with me.’

  ‘Clear, as in you could pass for twins?’

  ‘Yes, but I’m two years older than Emily. From what her father told her about his life before he was adopted by the Wilson’s, we had to be cousins.’

  Sanders scribbled in her notebook and Johnson spoke for the first time. ‘Did Emily take her belongings with her?’

  ‘Ah, yeah, she did,’ I said, thinking about the luggage I had stashed in my wardrobe, luggage that would have been coated in red paint when Talaom trashed the flat.

  Detective Johnson’s eyebrows raised. ‘We went by your flat, looking for you, only to be told you had moved here while it was being renovated by the new owner.’

  ‘New owner?’

  Sanders snapped her notebook shut, no trace of a smile on her narrow face. ‘The tradesman we spoke to said Chris Bradbury purchased the flat this morning, and hired him to remodel it.’

  ‘That’s correct,’ said Chris, from the front doorway. He tossed his keys on the coffee table and strode to my side, giving the detectives a bland smile. ‘And I have offered Tyler the use of my home during the remodelling.’

  He’d bought the flat. My stomach sank, not sure I liked the idea of having him as my landlord.

  Johnson narrowed his eyes. ‘From the expression on Miss Morgan’s face, I’m guessing she wasn’t aware you had purchased her home.’

  ‘Yes, well, thanks for ruining my surprise.’

  ‘My apologies.’ His smile was far from sincere.

  ‘Are we done here? I’d like to discuss the rest of my surprise with Tyler, before you ruin that too.’

  ‘Just one more question,’ he said. He turned away from Chris and faced me, one hand reaching into his jacket pocket. ‘Can you explain why this was found in Logan Miller’s car?’ He held up a small evidence bag containing a blood stained student ID card.

  My ID card.

  I swallowed heavily. ‘I don’t know, um, I’m not sure. We broke up over a week ago. I must have left it in his car, before then.’

  ‘So you have no idea how it could have ended up in the boot of Miller’s car, covered in his blood?’

  ‘I do not know how it got there.’ This was one question I could answer truthfully.

  ‘And the knife, the one used to stab him to death. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that either, right, even though it was also found in the boot of your ex-boyfriend’s car along with your student I.D.?’

  Detective Johnson continued to talk but the pounding of my heart and a rushing sound in my head drowned out his words. I closed my eyes, sucked in a deep breath and held it for as long as I could. I opened my eyes and stared at him. ‘I’m sorry, could you repeat that?’

  His nostrils flared. ‘We need you to come down to the station, go over the statement Detective Lockwood took.’ His top lip curled into a sneer. ‘See if there’s anything you left out.’

  Chris gripped my elbow. ‘Is that really necessary? Miss Morgan has just returned from her brother’s funeral. She and her family need time to grieve.’

  Johnson gave Chris a flat stare. ‘Either she comes willingly, or we arrest her on suspicion of murder.’ He switched his gaze to me. ‘Your choice.’

  I gulped down my panic. ‘I’d like to speak to Detective Lockwood before I go anywhere with you.’

  ‘I’m sure you would,’ Sanders said with a smirk. ‘He’s already at the station, answering a few questions of his own.’

  My heartbeat stuttered. From Sanders’s attitude, I feared the questions Sam was answering where about his involvement with me. ‘I’ll get my bag.’ I tried to move away but Chris’s fingers dug painfully into my elbow.

  ‘Tyler’s not going anywhere without a lawyer,’ he said, pulling me closer to him.

  Sanders gave a sharklike grin. ‘By all means, call your lawyer, Mr Bradbury. But they can meet her at the station because, make no mistake, Miss Morgan will be coming with us.’

  Chris bristled up, but I pulled my arm out of his grasp and put a hand on his chest. ‘It will be okay. I’ll go with them and we’ll get this sorted out,’ I said, aware that would be easier said than done. This was what Talaom had planned, to implicate me in Logan’s death, and I had no idea how I was going to get out of it. But refusing to go with the detectives, not cooperating with them, could make matters even worse for Sam.

  Chris’s expression said he hated to let the detectives take me, but he gave a reluctant nod as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. ‘I’ll be right behind you,’ he said. ‘Don’t say anything until the lawyer and I get there.’

  I nodded, not up to producing a smile, and turned to say goodbye to Connor and Rhonda.

  ‘I’m coming with you,’ said Connor, earning him a frown from Rhonda.

  ‘Connor Morgan, right?’ Detective Johnson tilted his head to one side. ‘We have some questions for you too, about your car. Kind of interesting, don’t you think, how we found it blown to bits not far from where Logan Miller’s body was discovered.’

  ‘If you’re sugge
sting my son had anything to do with Logan’s death –’

  Johnson cut Rhonda off. ‘I’m not suggesting anything, Mrs Morgan, merely pointing out yet another extremely unlucky event to befall a member of your family in the past week. Almost makes me think someone’s got it in for you lot. Might be a good idea for all of you to come down to the station?’

  Rhonda’s expression soured, but she said nothing as we left the penthouse under police escort. I cast a backwards glance at Chris as we stepped into the elevator. He was deep in conversation with his lawyer and I hoped they were very good at their job. They would have to be to get us out of this mess.

  Silence filled the elevator as we travelled to the ground floor. I kept my head up, determined not to act guilty in any way as the two detectives took up positions on either side of me for the walk to where their unmarked was parked. Sandwiched in between Connor and Rhonda in the back seat for the drive to the police station, my mind raced as I tried to think of answers to any questions they might ask me.

  Nothing prepared me for the sight of Sam, sitting on the wrong side of the desk, as I was led into his office. He looked wrung out, hands resting on his thighs, a harried look in his eyes. He straightened up when I entered the room and gave me a weary smile.

  A woman I didn’t recognise sat in Sam’s chair, and she did not look happy to see me. Sanders brushed passed me to whisper in her ear and then stepped to one side. The woman behind the desk stood, straightening her jacket, expression severe as she looked me up and down.

  ‘Miss Morgan, I’m Superintendent Mills, and Detective Lockwood has assured me you will cooperate fully with our investigation into the murder of Logan Miller.’ Her lips thinned, giving the impression she doubted anything Sam might have said about me.

  ‘Is he correct? Are you willing to do whatever it takes to find out who killed Mr Millar? To see them brought to justice.’

  I cleared my throat. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Then you won’t mind undergoing fingerprint analysis to rule yourself out?’

  Despite my best intentions, I knew my face paled. I could feel the blood draining away. I was in Emily’s body, and Malia had been in it when Logan was murdered. She could have been the one to stab him.

  ‘Hang on a sec,’ said Connor, moving to my side. ‘You can’t do anything without her lawyer present.’ He turned to me. ‘Just wait until Chris gets here.’

  Superintendent Mills frowned at Connor. ‘Sound advice, Mr Morgan. Will the lawyer also be representing you? We want your fingerprints as well, to aid in the investigation into who blew up your car last night.’

  ‘I don’t know anything about that. My car was stolen,’ said Connor.

  ‘If that’s the case, wouldn’t you have reported it?’

  ‘I was going to, after my brother’s funeral, only this pair turned up first.’ He pointed at Sanders and Johnson.

  ‘But you have no objection to providing your fingerprints?’

  ‘Sure, but I can’t see how that’s going to help. It’s my car. My fingerprints are going to be all over it.’

  ‘Once we have your prints, we can eliminate them and work on any others we find. So how about we get started with that?’ Mills turned to Sanders. ‘Why don’t you and Detective Johnson take Mr Morgan and his mother and file the report for his stolen car.’

  Before Connor could utter a protest, he and Rhonda were hustled out of the room, and Mills indicated for me to take a seat next to Sam. I sat heavily, resisting the urge to reach over and grab his hand, not sure exactly how much Mills knew about our involvement.

  She smiled at me, a smile without even a hint of warmth. ‘Now then, how long do you think it will take for Mr Bradbury and your lawyer to arrive? I want to get this taken care of today. Detective Lockwood assures me you had no part in the murder of Mr Millar, but given your personal history that will not be enough to clear your name.’

  ‘I … ah … I’m not sure how long they’ll be.’

  ‘We don’t need to wait for them,’ said Sam. He reached out and took hold of my hand, twining his fingers around mine and giving a reassuring squeeze. ‘Tyler has nothing to hide. You can take her fingerprints now.’

  ‘What?’ I turned to Sam, eyes wide.

  He faced me, a confident smile on his face. ‘You did not kill Millar, and your fingerprints will prove it.’

  I met his steady gaze and took a deep breath. ‘Okay. Let’s do it.’

  ‘Hold on just one minute,’ said a new voice from the doorway. ‘My client will not be submitting to any tests or answering any questions until after I have spoken with her.’ An older man in a dark grey suit entered the office, with Chris a step behind him. ‘I’ll need a private room and time to talk to Miss Morgan.’

  Sam squeezed my hand, giving a slight shake of his head. ‘You don’t need to involve a lawyer in this. You’re innocent. Trust me.’

  ‘Have you lost your mind, Lockwood? Of course she needs a lawyer. Innocent people get shafted every day,’ said Chris.

  Sam never took his eyes off me. ‘It’s up to you.’

  I gave him a smile. ‘Let’s do it.’

  With the lawyer spluttering out protests, and Chris glaring at Sam the whole time, we were led to a windowless room where a uniformed officer took my fingerprints. Then we were taken back to Sam’s office to wait for the results. Sam held my hand throughout, and I took comfort in his calm demeanour. His complete confidence made it almost anti-climactic when Mills returned with a sour expression on her face to announce my fingerprints did not match the ones on the murder weapon.

  With Chris and the lawyer watching on, she grilled me about my relationship with Sam and I answered as truthfully as I could. Two hours later we were escorted out of the station, meeting up with Rhonda and Connor in the carpark.

  After the lawyer left I turned to Sam. ‘How did you know my fingerprints wouldn’t match? Malia could have killed Logan.’

  ‘Nah, she’s not the type to dirty her own hands.’

  ‘She killed Emily.’

  ‘That was to get revenge on you for making her give up your cousin’s body. Besides, their plan was to implicate you. As your real body is still in the Underworld, there’s no way the fingerprints would match.’

  Chris grabbed Sam by the shirt front. ‘What if you’d been wrong? Tyler could have been arrested for murder.’

  Sam shook himself free. ‘This was the fastest way to get her out of there. Now the police can get onto finding the real killer. I’m sure it was Talaom who killed Miller, so that puts Almorthanos directly in their sights.’

  I hoped Sam was right. But even if the police did find evidence pointing to Almorthanos, how would they catch and keep him long enough to convict him? No, it was up to me to make sure he paid for every atrocity that had been performed in his name. I just wish I knew how.

  33

  Back at the penthouse, with Chris furious at Sam, the atmosphere was not exactly conducive to teamwork. Rhonda and Connor quickly fled, saying they needed to put in an insurance claim for his car, now they had an official police report. I let them go without protest, wishing I could afford the luxury of a time out. Instead, I gave Sam and Chris somewhere else to focus their anger.

  ‘Almorthanos showed up at Andrew’s funeral.’

  Chris grabbed my shoulders. ‘Are you okay? Why didn’t you say something?’

  I pulled free and put my hands up in a placating gesture. ‘Things have been crazy since then. And I’m fine, although it could have been a total disaster.’ I filled them in on most of what had happened. Almorthanos’ assertion I was going to bear him daughters who looked like Malia was too creepy to even contemplate let alone say out loud.

  ‘Didn’t Bradbury cease being a reaper once he was brought back to life?’

  I shrugged my shoulders, giving Sam a rueful smile. ‘All reapers have a quota. Chris had filled his, but it looks I’ll be reaping souls for a while yet.’

  Chris stroked his chin. ‘I’ve never heard of any r
eapers manifesting wings while in astral form. It has to be the necklace that allows you to do that.’

  ‘But the necklace was destroyed, and I couldn’t call on aether like before. How can it have any effect on me now?’

  ‘I don’t know, but we need to find out before Almorthanos sends someone else after you. He doesn’t sound like the type to give up,’ said Sam.

  ‘I know.’ I rubbed my eyes, dreading the thought of what he would throw at me next.

  A shiver swept over my body. ‘I have to go,’ I said as I strode over to the couch and lay down. ‘Someone is dying.’

  I placed a hand on the hollow of my throat and concentrated on the draw from my client, not sure it would work without the necklace. But my astral form slipped easily out of my body, wings unfurling behind me. Powerful strokes carried me up and through the ceiling of the penthouse. I flew over the river, heading for the north side of Easton.

  Lost souls floated around me, forms indistinct in the light of day, their silent escort a grim reminder of the night I’d been called to reap Logan’s soul. They kept pace with me as I drew close to the house I’d grown up in, moving behind me as I came to a stop in front of a dozen black winged Tr’lirians.

  They weren’t alone.

  Draped in mist made up of nether, the Grim Reaper froze the air in the astral plane with his presence, a writhing chain of souls anchoring him to the Underworld. As I got closer he morphed into his human aspect, Jonathon Grimm, but was no less terrifying. His black eyes were cold, cheekbones as sharp as knives, and I could hear the screams of the souls he sucked dry to maintain his physical form.

  I tore my eyes away from the tortured souls and risked a glance at Dad’s house, trying to hide my alarm at the wide open front door. From the pull of the dying soul, whoever I had been called for was hidden in the sea of Tr’lirians hovering behind him. I wanted to tear into them, wrest the soul from their grasp and blast Grimm out of the sky. But I couldn’t, not yet.

  ‘Where’s my father?’ I stifled a wince as the husk of a dead soul fell from the chain, disintegrating to nothing as it fell.