The Hex Files: Wicked Never Sleeps (Mysteries from the Sixth Borough Book 1)

by Gina LaManna

  When we reached the cool, refrigerated room, Sienna didn’t bother to give instructions. We’d all been here before. She slipped into her gloves and lab coat, leaving the leather jacket outside, and showed us to the table on which the mayor rested.

  He looked older, pale, a tinge blue thanks to the chill in the air and the fact that he was dead. Sienna stared down at him for a long moment, bobbing her head to the beat of the music thumping in her ears. Dani and Matthew knew better than to interrupt.

  When the song crashed to a close, Sienna snapped her fingers and the headphones disappeared. She launched immediately into an explanation with neither a preamble nor a greeting. “Cause of death: ancient runes. Time of death: seven-forty-two p.m., though there was movement around nine eighteen. That’ll be the moment they were tossed in the Motel Sixth.”

  Matthew nodded, making mental notes as all three surveyed the body. He watched carefully as Sienna’s eyes trailed over the mayor’s figure. She walked in close proximity to the body and brushed a hand gently down his arm, ending with a few taps against the veins protruding on the inside of his elbow.

  “Blood is frozen,” she said, looking thoughtful. “Helluva painful way to die, if I had to guess. Obviously, I can’t and won’t be asking him, but I can infer from the look of horror on his ugly mug.”

  Sienna was both highly intelligent and brutally honest. Even when death claimed a victim and brought them to Sienna’s table, she didn’t censor what she said. In her words, an asshole alive is still an asshole dead, just a silent one. Apparently, an ugly guy alive made for an ugly guy dead.

  As to her comment about raising the mayor to ask—well, that was an impossibility. Necromancy was outlawed in the borough and in most places around the world. Necromancers were allowed to live near the Dead Lands on the condition that their form of magic was never used. Never. Usually, even Sienna didn’t joke about it.

  “If I had to guess at a species type for the killer, I’d say...” She hesitated, thinking. “I’m going to say sorcerer, witch, or wizard. Possibly a very talented spellslinger, but I’m talking someone who’s already magically inclined, not some Joe Blow who picked up a magic kit at the marketplace.”

  “Have you ever seen this before?” Dani asked. Matthew was impressed with her nerve—Sienna frowned upon questions before she’d finished her summary. “The rune magic, I mean.”

  Sienna’s sharp eyes cut to her, but she deemed the question worthwhile by answering it. “No. I remember each body I’ve examined, and this is a new-to-me technique.”

  “Where did it come from?” Dani asked. “How is this magic getting into the borough?”

  “Do you think—” Matthew faced Dani. “Do you think this could have something to do with Joey?”

  Dani shrugged, then explained to Sienna. “We’ve been encountering a few strange symptoms lately.”

  “Drugs?” Sienna caught on quickly. She saw the officers’ looks of surprise, and she rolled their eyes. “I know Joey Jones. He’s harmless, but he dabbles.”

  Dani allowed herself a nod.

  “This is purposeful. Painful. I would venture a guess that it was meant to torture,” she said, then winced. “Blood doesn’t freeze in an instant. It’s a painstaking process that feels like an eternity. The time of death that I quoted you—that’s just the end of the process.”

  The room sank into silence at the gruesomeness of it all. Dani’s stomach churned, but she fought back a reaction and swallowed mightily.

  “I did find myself wondering if the killer was trying to cover up the murders,” Sienna wondered aloud. “Theoretically, if the bodies had been left long enough to thaw—and realistically, that’s possible since they wouldn’t start to stink until the decomposition set in—the cause of death would’ve been impossible to pin down. Sure, I would’ve seen some ruptured veins, but I would never have guessed...”

  She trailed off, shaking her head.

  “What about the other body?” Dani asked. “Can we see her?”

  “The Goblin chick? Sure. Over here.” Sienna led them to the opposite side of the room and pulled open a drawer. “I processed her already—didn’t think you’d care to see her.”

  Even as she opened the drawer, Dani wondered if the girl would be the key to everything. The murderer would never have expected law enforcement to focus on her—to so many, Goblin Girls were seen as disposable creatures. But not to Dani, and not to Matthew. The mayor might have been the question, but the answer might be buried with the girl.

  “Why didn’t you expect we’d want to see her?” Dani asked, though Matthew supposed she already knew the answer. Dani was agitated and hankering for an argument. “She’s part of the case too.”

  “Exactly. That’s why I processed her first, in case there was a reason for me to make you see her.” Sienna put a hand on her hip, glanced coolly over at Dani. The temperature in the already chilly room went down a few more notches. “Usually, those high up on the totem pole ignore those down below.”

  “Excuse me?” Dani’s eyes narrowed. “Our entire careers, and therefore our lives, are centered around bringing justice to the dead—rich or poor.”

  “Then you happen to be the exception, Detective DeMarco.” The ME’s tone was dry and sarcastic. “Good job to you. Is that what you want to hear? Maybe a pat on the back?”

  “I don’t want to hear anything,” Dani shot back. “What’s your problem?”

  “My problem is this.” Sienna gestured furiously toward the wall of boxes before her. After a split-second pause, her fingers moved like lightning as she pulled open a series of refrigerated drawers to reveal seven different bodies. Most of them were shades of light green, all of them female. “All of these women died within the last month.”

  Dani’s eyes processed them with scientific precision. She cleared her throat. “Looks here like we have a strangulation case, two SpellShots—that is not good, Captain—and four questionable causes of death. Why are you showing me these, Sienna?”

  “Because they’re still here.” Sienna looked down at the open drawer nearest her side. Her face changed, the sharp pinks of her hair and blacks of her eyeliner fading to the background as edginess gave way to sympathy. “These girls all had one thing in common: they were poor. Worked in the casinos, on the streets, etc. Their deaths were never investigated.”

  “I’m sure there are officers assigned,” Captain King said. He watched, interested, as the tough, hardened ME reached down and gently stroked the deceased woman’s cheek with her finger. The gesture was almost loving, almost as if Sienna was trying to comfort the girl. “We investigate every homicide. I can get you names if—”

  “I don’t need names,” Sienna said, and then she sent the body and its drawer back into the wall with a distinct metal clang, her face losing all sympathy and reverting to stone once more. “I saw the cops assigned when they stopped by—well, most of them. This one, whose cause of death was overdose and likely not self-administered, didn’t have any visitors. Not even the cop assigned her case.”

  King’s jaw tightened. “I’ll find out why.”

  “Great, you do that,” Sienna snapped. “And then you can sit on your throne at the NYPD and gloat about it. Maybe get an award for all the good deeds you’ve done.”

  “Watch it,” Dani warned. “You’re talking to the captain.”

  “I’m talking to a vampire, an equal—another being, just like me,” Sienna said. “That’s the problem. The mayor gets murdered? They get the Reserve and the vamp on the case. If it weren’t for this poor girl’s body being dumped in the same room as the mayor, would the two of you have shown up to bring justice to her murderer?”

  Matthew and Dani remained silent. The answer was no—neither of them would have. They could have made excuses: not enough time in the day, other fish to fry, etc. But the truth remained that some cases received special treatment.

  “In my morgue,” Sienna said, punctuating each sentence with the quiet, cold clang of a drawer
closing, “everyone is equal. In death, we’re all the same.”

  Before each drawer closed, Sienna hesitated a moment, her face reflecting a forlorn sadness as she gently ran a finger down the girls’ cheeks, as if giving them a proper goodbye. A hint of care in the otherwise sterile environment.

  When all drawers were closed, save for the one in question, Sienna looked up. “So, you’ll have to excuse me if I expected you to ignore the Goblin Girl. There are many more who have never had visitors. It’s frustrating that this woman’s death is only important because of someone else’s.”

  “That’s not true,” Dani said harshly. “She might be the key to this whole thing. She might be—”

  “Listen to yourself talk. She’s the key to someone else’s murder. What about her own murder?” Sienna raised her voice, shook her head. “She’s the key to her own damn murder.”

  Silence followed. The term deadly silent had an all new meaning.

  “Sienna,” Matthew began, but one sharp look from her silenced him.

  “She died first,” Sienna said simply. Her face was impassive, but anger simmered below the surface. “I can’t say exactly why, but either she was the intended victim, or she was giving the most trouble. Or perhaps, the killer just wanted the mayor to watch. Though I am leaning away from the last suggestion because there was nothing sexual about the nature of their relationship. I don’t suppose the mayor cared about her in any visceral way, so I also doubt the killer would have used her for bait.”

  “How certain are you about that?” Dani asked, looking as if she instantly regretted asking. The ME’s returning glare was fierce.

  “I’m positive,” Sienna said. “My thorough examination showed that this poor woman—girl, rather—was a virgin. I can’t tell that absolutely for certain, but she hasn’t had sex in quite some time. Judging by the shade of her skin, the ink on her Goblin Girl license was still wet when she met with the mayor. The two had not been intimate in any physical way.”

  Dani nodded, biting her lip.

  “You’re not as surprised as you should be,” Sienna said, watching the detective’s face. “Why?”

  “It didn’t feel right.” Dani’s focused intently on the Goblin Girl’s face. “It felt like the killer had staged it that way as a distraction.”

  Matthew watched as both females—the two alive—looked toward the dead in thought. They set down their battle axes and found a unique sort of harmony in working together to bring justice to those who could no longer seek it for themselves.

  “They were both fully clothed,” Dani continued. “I didn’t see anything sexual in nature from the Residuals. What I can’t figure out is why the two were together at all. They must have had a meeting of some sort, or...”

  “Or she’s a completely random victim,” Sienna said. “Killed only to provide a distraction.”

  Dani looked up at her, curious.

  “I mean, look at you. You’re looking into her death as a key to his. What if she’s merely a tool in this mess?” Sienna shrugged. “To those who commit murder at this level, usually it’s a disposable thing and morality isn’t a pressing issue. What’s one more body—especially that of a Goblin Girl—if it’ll distract the police from the real issue?”

  “Then what is the real issue?” Dani wondered aloud. “What was the mayor onto that he couldn’t tell anyone but felt strongly enough to pursue on his own—and eventually end up killed?”

  The room returned back to the quiet lull that came with spending time around the dead. Eventually, Sienna ran her finger down the girl’s cheek, her eyes bright with a wash of emotion, which still surprised Matthew. He’d known Sienna for years, worked with her many times, but had never seen the necromancer so affected. He wondered why, but would never ask, and certainly not in public. It was too personal a question.

  “Like I said,” Sienna stiffened once more as she faced the cops. “I think the killer expected the bodies to defrost so there’d be less evidence. He didn’t bother to take the clothes off them because I’d be able to tell there’d been no sexual interactions. I believe he counted on the two bodies being found together as a distraction. I can’t tell you much more than that, though the rest of the write up can be found in my report. If you’d like access, have Ursula pull it for you.”

  Dani thanked Sienna. When it was Matthew’s turn, he hesitated, lingering in the cool room even as Dani waited at the door. “I’m very sorry,” he said, “about the other girls. They deserve closure too. As much as anyone else.”

  Sienna gave a short nod. An acknowledgment of his good intention, but nothing more. “Words don’t mean much. But I’m not here to argue with you. I just deal with the dead. Have a nice day, Captain, Detective.”

  The door clanked shut behind Sienna as she sealed herself inside the morgue and returned to her work. Dani strode quickly, firmly toward the front desk where she requested the report from Ursula with impatience.

  As they left the building, a copy of the files in hand, Matthew rested a hand on her wrist. “It’s not your fault. We have officers assigned to each of their cases. It’s hard for Sienna to see the girls resting there, day after day, their bodies unclaimed even by family or friends.”

  “I should be helping more,” Dani said, her lip trembling with frustration as she spun to face him. “I retired. That was selfish and stupid of me, and I should be in there, looking at the girls’ faces with Sienna. Studying the causes of death. Putting killers behind bars, and yet—”

  “And yet you’re doing exactly that.” Matthew refused to reach out and touch her because that would only lead in one direction, and he’d promised not to go there. To simply step closer to her, to breathe in her scent, would push him to the point of no return. “You came back when we needed help.”

  “Because the mayor died! What about all the girls in there?”

  “Danielle,” Matthew spoke sharply, catching her attention with the full use of her name, yet the jarring lack of professionalism to it. “You were a detective. You retired. While you will always have a streak of cop in you, there’s no possible way you can blame yourself for others’ senseless murders.”

  “I let him...” She shook her head, took a shuddering breath. “I let him control my life. It’s because of him that I resigned, because he played me a fool.”

  “It’s not foolish to fall in love.”

  “It was foolish to fall in love with Trenton.”

  “You’re forgetting one thing,” Matthew said. “It’s partially my fault.”

  “How is it your fault?” Dani’s eyes shot up to meet his. “Oh, Matthew, no. You can’t blame us. The breakup—us separating—wasn’t your fault.”

  “I broke things off with you.”

  “And what?” Dani raised her arms, a wry smile on her face. “You broke me? No. My choice to date Trenton was all my own.”

  “If we’d still been together, you wouldn’t have—”

  “Stop.” Dani rested a hand on his wrist, the gesture surprising to both. “It’s neither of our faults. But I’m allowed to feel remorse for throwing away time on him. And for letting him affect the thing I loved most: my job.”

  Matthew flinched, as if he’d hoped she’d say something else. Unrequited love never ceased to sting.

  “I still wonder if I made the right choice.” Dani regrouped, her emotions leveling as she strode toward the station. “I still don’t know.”

  Matthew had his own opinion, but he’d given it to her before she’d left the force. She’d left anyway, despite his pleas to keep her in the Sixth Precinct.

  “Anyway, sorry,” she said. “Didn’t mean to burden you with my choices, but—”

  “If you ever want to come back,” he said softly. “We’ll take you in a heartbeat.”

  To Dani’s credit, she appeared to consider it. Then she gave one last shake of her head, and the conversation was over.

  “I think we go to the mayor’s office next,” she said firmly. “We’ll talk to his assista
nt, confirm his schedule, and find out where he had dinner last night. Residuals are ticking down next to nothing, and we need to find that crime scene.”

  Chapter 15

  City Hall wasn’t far from the mayor’s mansion.

  Also located in Sorcerer’s Square, the building sat low to the ground, sprawling longer than it was tall. The space was everything the marketplace located just south of it wasn’t. While the markets steepled a mile high and teemed with activity and bustle at all hours of the day and night, City Hall was a gleaming white building with stone columns across the front placed in precise, even lines, and a quiet calm to the yard around it that came with the subdued nature of day-to-day bureaucratic business.

  Matthew and I pressed quickly through the carefully manicured front lawn and past the columns standing guard outside the building. We signed in quickly at the front desk, secured visitor badges, and waited while a demure woman in a plum colored business skirt and matching jacket showed us to a small waiting room outside a cluster of offices. On the door to the largest office was a sign that read Mayor Lapel.

  I averted my eyes, feeling almost voyeuristic when a young woman popped her head out of Mayor Lapel’s office, sniffed, and pulled down the nameplate. She glanced up at the last second, surprised to find visitors, and fumbled the plastic sign. It dropped to the floor as she burst into a new round of tears.

  Matthew was across the room by the time the signage hit the floor. He picked it up and handed it back, then returned across the room to stand next to me. I could feel the awkwardness radiating off of him.

  “Smooth,” I told him. “Very human of you to move like that.”

  The woman looked up at us. Her hair was dark blond and pulled back into a low bun at the nape of her neck. Her eyes were a light shade of brown, her face pretty, her posture stiff.

  “Thank you,” she said, though there was a hint of mystified surprise in her voice. “Um, you must be—sorry, you must be the detectives? I just got a Comm. Sorry, I’m distracted. I was the mayor’s assistant, and this is all—it’s just so chaotic.”