Fire Born (City of Dragons Book 5)

by Val St. Crowe

  Lachlan shook his head. “Sit tight there.” He got up, pounding the table as he walked away.

  “Wait,” said Silas. “If I roll over on the guy who hired me, you think I can make a deal?”

  Lachlan kept walking.

  * * *

  “So, the captain will pull us from this,” said Lachlan.

  “How did you figure that out?” said Dirk. “How did you get him to confess?”

  “I don’t know. I took a stab,” said Lachlan. “Turns out I was right. You have to take risks sometimes. Trust your gut.”

  “Your gut?” said Dirk. “Seriously? You really do think you’re on Law and Order, don’t you?”

  Lachlan just laughed. “Sometimes, I take a stab, and I’m wrong, Dirk. The trick is to keep trusting yourself, no matter how many times you’re wrong. Because sometimes, you’re right. Anyway, now we’re screwed, because this won’t be our case for too much longer.”

  “No, I think it’s connected,” I said. “The Eaglelinx stuff has something to do with the rogues.”

  “The what?” said Dirk.

  “We’ll fill you in later,” said Lachlan. “So, you think we run with him a little, see where we can get with this?”

  “Promise him a deal, you mean?” said Dirk.

  “Not a promise,” said Lachlan, “but tell him it looks good. And what the hey, if he testifies for us, helps us take down the guy who ordered all this, well, then I’m sure a deal is in order.”

  “If someone ordered a string of murders to look like suicides—gay suicides at that—he must be hiding something,” said Dirk. “It’s a very elaborate ruse.”

  “Right,” said Lachlan. “This is a cover-up of some kind. Something big.”

  * * *

  “He didn’t tell me to make them look like gay suicides,” said Silas. “That was my thought. I figured it would look like a serial killer, and then no one would ever suspect they were hits. See, he wanted me to kill people that worked for him, and I told him that if they all had a really strong connection like that, people would come looking at the company.”

  “At Eaglelinx?” said Lachlan.

  “Yeah,” said Silas. “So, this was the best cover I could come up with.”

  “Except you also made them look like suicides.”

  “Yeah, I may have gotten a little bit too creative with the whole thing,” said Silas. “Because it took months for anyone to put together that it was a serial killer. But that was okay, because as long as those murders weren’t drawing attention, everything was hunky dory.”

  “So, who’s the guy who hired you to kill these people? You said he works at Eaglelinx?”

  “You sure about this deal business?”

  “Tell us who he is,” said Lachlan. “If you help us, we’ll help you.”

  “Jeremy Williams,” said Silas.

  I gasped. I knew that guy. He’d been to dinner parties at my home when I lived with Alastair. Jeremy Williams was a dragon.

  “And why did he want you to kill these people?” said Lachlan.

  “Well, I don’t know,” said Silas. “I didn’t ask. But in my experience, there are only a few reasons why people hire a contract killer to do their dirty business. One is clearly revenge. But another is that someone wants to hide something, and those people are loose ends. So, I get hired to tie those loose ends off.”

  I shuddered at the cavalier way he talked about killing.

  “And do you have any proof that he hired you?”

  Silas rubbed his chin. “Uh, well, not really. We always met in person, and he had some guy pat me down for recording devices.”

  “How did he pay you? Cash?”

  “No,” said Silas. “He wired money into my account. Bank transfer.”

  “Really?” said Lachlan, smiling. “So, you’ll give me your account information?”

  “Sure,” said Silas, “but I don’t think he’d be so sloppy as to have the account in his name or something.”

  “Well, we’d like to check anyway.” Lachlan slid a piece of paper over to Silas, along with a pen. “Write down everything you know about that account.”

  Silas started scribbling.

  Lachlan watched him for several moments. Then he cocked his head to one side. “You’re good at your job, aren’t you?”

  “I like to think so,” said Silas.

  “You enjoy it?”

  Silas shook his head. “Man, before this gig, I think I did. But everything else I ever did, it was easy. Bullet to the back of the head kind of thing. But this? Up close and personal? All the staging. All the manipulating the bodies? Damn it, man.” He tapped his temple. “I have these nightmares.”

  “I’m not going to go easier on you if you pretend to be regretful, you realize,” said Lachlan.

  Silas chuckled. “It’s ironic is what it is. Between those nightmares, and this girl I met, I was probably going to give this whole way of life up. I was going to go straight, stop killing, move on with my life. And then you drag me down to the station, and now…” He shook his head, laughing ruefully. “Fuck. That’s all. Fuck.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “So, we’re booking this guy?” said Dirk. “And we’re not telling the captain anything?”

  “I’m sitting on the paperwork,” said Lachlan. “We need time to find the connection, prove that this is related to magic. So, we have to figure out what it is that these people knew.”

  “I’ve been on the phone with family members for the past two hours,” I said, “and I’ve got passwords for every single of these victims’ emails, social networking, all of it. We’ve got to comb through this stuff and see if we can find anything suspicious.”

  Dirk sighed. “We’re going to be here late, aren’t we?”

  “Probably,” I said, handing her a handwritten list of passwords and sites. “We should order in food. What do you guys think about pizza?”

  “That what you want?” said Lachlan.

  I shrugged. “I could eat that.”

  “If the pregnant lady wants pizza…” said Lachlan to Dirk.

  She laughed. “You’re right. I won’t argue with that.”

  “Guys,” I said. “We don’t have to get it because I want it.”

  “No, it’s good,” said Dirk. “And I’m easy. I’ll eat anything on a pizza, even anchovies, so you guys go nuts with ordering toppings.”

  “Cool,” said Lachlan, whipping out his phone. “Then I’ll order the pizza, and you guys get going looking through the emails.”

  * * *

  “You going to eat that?” I said, pointing at the last piece of pepperoni and mushroom.

  Dirk pushed it over to me. “No, by all means.”

  I snagged the slice and took a bite. Delicious. “So, I’ve been through three different victims email accounts, and I’m not finding crap. How are you guys doing?”

  “I’ll trade you emails for social networking,” said Lachlan. “I think if I see another emoticon, I’ll go crazy.”

  “You’re looking through private messages and things, right?” I said. “Don’t waste time with anything public.”

  “Of course not,” said Lachlan. “You want to trade with me or what?”

  “I’ll trade with you,” said Dirk. “I’ve got emails too.”

  “Cool.” Lachlan passed his list across the table, and she handed him hers. “So, uh, you have to make arrangements for your dogs, Dirk? Since you’re here late?”

  “Yeah, I got someone to let them out into the back yard to do their business,” she said. “My neighbor. Going to open a can a dog food for them too. Still, I feel bad. Poor guys have been alone all day.”

  “Used to have a dog,” said Lachlan.

  “Really?” I said. “You never talked about it.”

  “When you were a kid?” said Dirk.

  “Well, we had hunting dogs growing up,” said Lachlan, “but they didn’t come in the house. They had a pen outside. If it got too cold in the winter, my dad put them in
the basement. I didn’t have much to do with those dogs. I wasn’t exactly outdoorsy-type kid.”

  “Really.” Dirk cocked her head at him. “And here I pictured you as Davy Crockett.”

  “The dog was my stepson’s,” said Lachlan. “He didn’t take care of it, though, so it was always left to me. I like dogs, though. They’re, um, straightforward.”

  “They are,” said Dirk. She smiled at him.

  He smiled at her.

  “Careful, you two,” I said. “You’ll have people thinking you can actually stand each other.”

  Lachlan laughed.

  But Dirk got oddly quiet. “Look,” she said, “it wasn’t me who had a bad relationship.”

  “What?” I said.

  “You know how earlier, when I was complaining about sexism, you asked me that?” said Dirk. “Well, it wasn’t me. It was my girlfriend.”

  “Your…?” Lachlan raised his eyebrows. “Oh. You’re—”

  “Gay?” She chuckled. “Like it wasn’t rampantly obvious.”

  “Not really, no,” I said.

  “Well, yes, I am a lesbian,” said Dirk. “But I swear I’m not a stereotype. I’m not some man-hating-gun-toting-female-cop dyke.”

  “I would never say that about you,” I said.

  “I would never—”

  “Shut up, Lachlan,” said Dirk, laughing.

  He laughed. “Did you just call me Lachlan?”

  “Sure did, and you should call me Christy,” she said.

  “Christy,” I said, trying it out.

  “Anyway,” said Christy, “I was in high school, and my girlfriend had just come out. She’d had a boyfriend before me, but she hadn’t much liked it. He was older. He was in college, and he was the son of some doctor in town. His family had money. He was a golden child. Smart, attractive, rich.” She shook her head slowly. “But, um, when he found out that Connie was dating a girl, he flipped out. There was a confrontation at this party. I tried to get in the middle of it, but Connie said she could calm him down if she went on a drive with him. They took off in his car, and then…” Her voice got shaky. She shook herself.

  “Hey,” I said, reaching for her, concerned. “If it’s hard to talk about—”

  “It’s the reason I became a cop,” she said. “Because I knew he killed her. Knew it. But he said she ran off. He said she went back to the party. I knew it was crap. And I watched how one courageous officer in my town, a woman named Libbie, she stood up to that family and found the evidence to put him away. Once I saw her do that, I knew it was for me.”

  “Wow,” said Lachlan softly. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “That’s a heartbreaking story.”

  She wiped at her eyes. “I don’t tell just anybody that story. And I know things I said… Look, I don’t think men are worthless, okay? But the way you carry yourself sometimes, Flint, when you’re trying to work over a suspect, you remind me of that bastard. I know it’s not who you really are, but it set me off, okay?”

  Lachlan smiled slowly. “I thought you were going to call me Lachlan.”

  She smiled too. She looked down at the floor.

  “I’m glad you told us,” I said quietly. “It means you trust us. For what it’s worth, we trust you too.”

  “Absolutely,” said Lachlan.

  * * *

  A long time later, Christy let out a little whoop. “Got something!”

  I looked up from the screen. My eyes were having trouble focusing. What the hell time was it anyway? “Thank God,” I said.

  She laughed, turning her laptop screen so that we could see. “It’s Ray Torres getting in touch with this guy who runs a tell-all blog about corporate conspiracies. He says he has information he wants to share with Torres, but he doesn’t want to do it over the Internet. They make a plan to meet in person.” Ray Torres was one of the victims.

  “Excellent,” said Lachlan. “That’s great. So, who’s the blogger?”

  “Well, he goes by his blog’s name in the messages,” said Christy. “I guess he wants to remain anonymous. You want me to try to send him a message that way?”

  “Yeah, do that,” said Lachlan. “Is the blog hosted on his own domain name? If it is, we might be able to look up who’s bought it.”

  “Really?” I said.

  “Well, maybe not us personally, but someone who knows stuff about computers, anyway,” said Lachlan.

  “You want me to ask Connor?” I said. “He’s up right now. I can call him and get him to do some digging.”

  “Sure,” said Lachlan.

  “Who’s Connor?” said Christy.

  “He’s a friend,” I said.

  “The people who do IT here at the force are jokes,” said Lachlan.

  Christy made a face. “That’s true.”

  * * *

  “No, it’s no good,” said Connor over the phone. “He’s registered the domain name to Mickey Mouse, and he’s got a P.O. Box listed as the address.”

  “So, there’s nothing you can do?” I said.

  “Sorry,” he said. “If I had a name, I might be able to figure something out. I could do some searches that way.”

  “Well, that’s the problem,” I said. “We don’t have a name.”

  “That sucks,” he said.

  “Yeah.” I sighed.

  “Look, if you think of anything else for me to look up, call me,” said Connor.

  “Will do,” I said, hanging up. I yawned. “Hey, guys, I’m thinking that I’ve got to call it a night. I’m dead on my feet here. If you need to stay, Lachlan, I can get a cab back home or something.”

  Lachlan looked up from his computer. “No, there’s no reason for that. I don’t know if there’s anything else we can do tonight.” He turned to Christy. “You want to pack it in?”

  She nodded. “Sure. We’ll come in early tomorrow and get cracking on this.”

  “Yes,” said Lachlan. “Good.”

  I stretched, leaning back in my chair. “Ugh. I wish someone would bring up a wheelchair and push me out to the car.”

  Lachlan chuckled. “I could push you out in an office chair.” He came up behind me and grabbed the back of my chair. “It’s got wheels after all.”

  “Don’t push me!” I squealed at him.

  He grinned down at me. “You sure? I could twirl you around.”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  “Hey, guys?” came Christy’s voice.

  We both turned to her.

  “I got a response from the blogger guy,” she said. “He wants to meet, but it can’t be anywhere public. He sounds really paranoid.”

  “Possibly with good reason,” I said. “This seems like a genuine conspiracy that someone’s covering up.”

  “Should I agree to meet him?” she said.

  “Heck yes,” said Lachlan, hurrying over to look over her shoulder. “Tell him we’ll meet wherever he’s comfortable, whenever he wants.”

  “Okay.” Christy typed on her laptop. Then she leaned back. She and Lachlan stared at the screen, waiting.

  “You think he’s going to message back right away?” With effort, I got to my feet.

  “Save your energy, Penny,” said Lachlan, waving me down.

  It didn’t take much to persuade me. I sat back down. I really was exhausted.

  Christy’s computer dinged.

  Lachlan turned back to the screen. “What’s he say?”

  “He wants to meet tomorrow. I don’t recognize that address.”

  “It’s out near where the Order was,” said Lachlan.

  “The Order?” I said. “You think this has anything to do with them?”

  “It’s blocks away from their location,” he said. “Another one of those warehouses.”

  “Like the one that disappeared?” said Christy. “Where you got that video of Alastair Cooper?”

  “Yep, like that,” said Lachlan. “Sounds good to me. Tell him we’ll meet him.”

  Christy started typing.
/>   CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “Who are you guys?” The blogger was slight in frame. He had a mustache and goatee and he was bundled up in a thick coat.

  We were all cold, standing together in this abandoned warehouse, but I was glad of the extra weight I was carrying around. The baby was definitely keeping my body temperature up. Still, I wished my damned coat would meet in front of my belly.

  Lachlan flashed his badge. “I’m Detective Lachlan Flint. This is Detective Christiane—”

  “You’re cops?” The blogger’s eyes got wide. “Jesus.”

  “Look, we’re trying to figure out what’s going on with the murders,” said Christy. “The ones that are only being done to employees of Eaglelinx. We think you might be able to shed some light on that.”

  The blogger rubbed his face. “And then what? I tell you what I know, you rush out and arrest the heads of Eaglelinx, one of the most powerful corporations in the world? Yeah, right.”

  “We’ve already got a witness that Jeremy Williams is involved,” said Lachlan. “We may have a money trail as well. We’re looking into some wire transfers that constitute payments for ordered hits.”

  “What we don’t know is why,” I said. “Why is Eaglelinx having these people murdered? They know something, don’t they?”

  The blogger hesitated. “I don’t know. I don’t know. How do I know that you aren’t all tied up in this? Eaglelinx has something going with the police. That’s how they hide all those dragons.”

  “The rogues?” I said. “It’s got something to do with the rogue dragons, right?”

  “I guess you could call them rogues,” said the blogger. “I call them monsters. You know about that?”

  “We know about that,” said Lachlan.

  “We do?” said Christy.

  I pointed at my chest. “I’m a dragon, okay? And I have personally seen these things. They attacked my hotel on more than one occasion. They aren’t like regular dragons. They have black, empty eyes. Nothing inside them except rage.”

  “Yeah,” said the blogger, letting out a breath. “But maybe you’re saying this to try to lure me into a false sense of security. I know they’re following me. I know that if I try to publish any of this, they’ll stop me.”