That perked Logan up. "I've got my six-shooter loaded and ready to go."
Rewards should be given out for the amount of effort it took not to roll my eyes. Elves get bored easy and jump from subject to subject. Every now and again, they wander into an area that doesn't bore them. It quickly invaded their lives. Logan's latest obsession was with Westerns. It had taken almost a year, but now I was beginning to see why Logan's old partner had shot him over show tunes.
"First, you need to look over the report," I said, pulling up to the first gate of the Farm.
When we made it to the office, Logan and I went straight down the middle of the control room.
"Anything new?" Logan asked Hank.
"Everything is clear. Is she starting to drag you in early too?" Hank asked. "I'm beginning to think she lives here."
"It's a busy time." I purposefully avoided looking at the empty desks. "I better get to it."
Logan stuck around, talked with Hank while I claimed my usual desk and opened yesterday's report. It didn't take long to add a few comments and close it up again. After that, I poured myself into gnome research. Specifically, instances of death.
"We've got a case," Logan said.
I looked up from my computer and discovered that the day was passing me by. More desks were filled, and Kyrian, our boss, had arrived and was more or less looking over Hank's shoulder.
"Anything new on the monitors?" I asked.
"No portal build up anywhere in the Mid-West, nothing suspicious on thermals and Farm security is tight," Logan said. "We didn't watch a satellite sweep, but I think Kyrian is having Hank pull that up now."
"Do we have a relocation?" I asked. Usually, we relocate people when they've been spotted. When rumors fly around about mythological creatures, we're called in to take care of the issue.
"Criminal case," Kyrian said walking over, "suspicious deaths overnight."
Kyrian handed a tablet over to Logan, who immediately passed it over to me. We used to use actual files, but Kyrian was upgrading everywhere. Files or computer screen, it was all the same to Logan, and he always passed it to me. I didn't mind, though. Elves were curiously strong for being so tall and thin, so he did all the heavy lifting and I took on the paperwork.
I signed into the tablet and opened the only file it contained.
"Three deaths overnight," Kyrian said. "One was the victim of a hit and run, one fell down the stairs and broke his neck, and the other died of natural causes, an aneurysm."
"Are they Lost?" I asked.
"Human," she said, "they all lived together, and there's a fourth roommate. The police have him in interrogation. He's one of ours, and we need to take care of him."
Kyrian turned and left without a glance back. I grabbed my bag on my way out.
"Have you seen Rider today?" I asked without looking up from the file.
"He dropped the keys off earlier. He's in training for the day."
"Driver's Ed?" I asked.
Logan let out a whoop of laughter. We poke fun at Rider’s driving, but for good reason. When we reached the truck, we did a thorough check. No new dings or paint scrapes and the tires held air, so we were good.
"There's nothing much beyond what Kyrian already told us," I said as Logan drove us to the station. "Four college kids, all roommates. Three of the four died overnight. The fourth one swears he didn't do anything, and didn't know his friends had died until the police showed up this morning. He hasn't been arrested, but he has been detained for questioning."
"They know we're coming?" Logan asked.
"Excellent question." I called Hank. He said he'd take care of the details before we made it to the station.
"What type of Lost are we working with?" Logan asked, after my call.
"He's a lar, named Bill. What do we know about lares? I've never heard of them."
"Hard to say really. I've only read reports on them. They were once believed to be protectors."
"Like what?" I asked.
"An area, a river, a family. You name it. The Romans thought they were heroes."
"The Romans? They go that far back?"
"Almost everything goes that far back," Logan said dismissively, "further even."
"Why did they think they were heroes?"
"See if there's a picture of him in the file."
I swiped through pages on the tablet. "Here's one. He's...oh." His hair was blond and a tiny bit longer than most men could get away with. His striking features drew your eyes to his face. Handsome wasn't enough to cover it. "He's beautiful."
Logan laughed. "They all are. It's in their genes."
"He looks like, if he smiled, you would hear a 'ting' when the light bounced off his teeth and glimmered through his hair."
If anything, Logan laughed louder. "I imagine in the times of the Romans, they were a bit overwhelming."
"Maybe." Dragging my eyes away from the picture, I swiped to other pages. "Are they warriors or do they protect people?"
"Not especially. I'm sure some of them were. They're usually pretty smart, but they can manipulate people to get what they want. Not on purpose mind you. They assume it's the way things are done."
"They expect people to do things for them?"
"Yeah, but in their defense, it's because people usually do what the lares want."
"You know, I've never worked with the local police. How does this work?"
"They're going to see us as feds. We go in, ask our questions, and get our Lost out of there if possible."
AIR was a government agency. The Department of the Treasury paid us, and the job came with a clearance level high enough to make your nose bleed, but it had never felt like a government agency.
"How do they feel about working with the federal government?" I asked.
"Usually, they don't care much. We're all on the same side. They don't always like that they don't know which agency we work for. They're not thrilled when we can't give them details either. But, it's not like we're the IRS."
There was a little anxiety on my part when we arrived. Our reception wasn't as congenial as Logan made it sound. We walked into a small waiting area and talked to a man behind bulletproof glass. He inspected our IDs with a great deal of scrutiny, and I received a sneer or two before he let us know someone would be with us shortly.
While we waited to be buzzed back to the inner areas of the station and the interrogation rooms, Logan rocked back and forth on his heels whistling, Home On the Range. I almost stopped him, he was whistling in a way that I've never heard a human whistle before, with two tones seemingly sounding out together in harmony, but I decided to let it go. The sound was enchanting, who cared what these people might think.
Time crawled by while we waited. Logan appeared unconcerned and waited patiently. I, on the other hand, checked the clock a few times every minute.
Ten minutes later, we heard a loud chink of metal against metal and then the door opened.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, I'm Lieutenant Detective Parker." He caught Logan's infectious smile and shook his hand, while Logan introduced us.
Detective Parker was maybe a few years older than me, and he was cute enough that he made my toes want to curl up. It's too bad his face fell when he looked in my direction. He stiffened and didn't offer me his hand.
The curse of a damaged soul. Since my soul had been ripped out last fall, and then shoved, broken, back into my body, there was no way I could ever make a good first impression.
"Follow me this way," Detective Parker said, leading us through a small maze of hallways.
"We're going to need to speak with the gentleman alone," I said when Detective Parker stopped outside an ugly green door.
"That's what we were told over the phone." His voice had an edge to it. "Cameras are off, and the room behind the glass is empty."
"Would you show us?" Logan asked.
Detective Parker shrugged and led us to the next door and opened it. Sure enough, it was empty.
"
He's all yours," Detective Parker said.
Logan stopped for a minute when we entered the room. "Yep, sounds empty."
We turned our attention to the lar in front of us. He was less beautiful in person. Mostly, he looked like a kid that had a hard night.
I introduced Logan and myself. "Tell me about last night, Bill."
"I've told you all again and again," Bill said.
"We're with AIR," I said.
This didn't make Bill any happier. Looking uncomfortable, he went into his story. "It was a normal night, or at least I thought it was. I went over to my girlfriend’s house, and we hung out for a while. Met up with some friends at a bar—"
"Were any of these friends your roommates?" I asked.
"Nah," Bill said, eying Logan who was leaning against a wall.
It looked like Logan was watching, but I couldn't tell if he was actually paying attention. His head was bouncing slightly up and down as if he had a song stuck on replay.
"They had other plans for the night," Bill said.
"Any idea what those plans were?" I asked.
"Oliver had a date, and Zeek and Raj were going to a club."
"Did Oliver go home with his date?" I asked.
"He wasn't home when I came back and crashed out. Zeek and Raj never made it home either."
I casually tapped a finger against my temple, and Logan came forward. Our partnership was like a well-oiled machine. One of us would indicate for me to read and Logan would slide in and take over. I closed my eyes while Logan asked questions.
"Tell me a little about you," Logan said. The elf was so genuine in his interest that Bill didn't hesitate.
While they talked, I concentrated on opening my mind to the smallest bit of the Path I could manage. When I opened my eyes, the room took on a new texture. The room contained layered scars of past emotions. It took longer than I expected to sort through them.
"I'm majoring in English," Bill said. "Moved here about three years ago from Chicago. Got the apartment with the guys last year."
"Do you believe in ghosts?" Logan asked.
"Um, I— Ghosts?" Bill asked.
"Do you think they're real?"
"I guess so. I mean, I'm here, so I guess there are things that can't be explained," Bill said.
I watched the conversation unfold through the rolling imprint of the Path. The old influences in the room stopped becoming an issue when I concentrated on Bill. He was scared and nervous, which was to be expected. I would be, too, if I were on his side of the table.
"Tell me about the unexplained," Logan said.
"Um, it's, well, things happen. Bumps in the night, lights in the sky. You see all sorts of things on the Internet. I'm not like some crazy guy who hunts things down. I don't think Bigfoot is hiding out in the woods of the North West or anything. We talk about things from time to time, that's all."
I'd hate to break the news to him, but the closest Bigfoot lived in Southern South America. They had moved out of North America about thirty years ago.
Bill's Path looked odd. I wasn't sure what I was seeing, but it appeared as though the Path was pressing in on him. I could read everything coming off him, but things were falling towards him almost as much as they were drifting away. Was the Path imprinting on him instead of the other way around?
"Do you take drugs?" Logan asked.
"I told you, I'm not some crazy person. I don't believe in aliens, and I don't expect zombies to rise from graves." Sparks of orange popped into Bill's Path, but we didn't need that to see that he was anxious about the question. I tapped the table, seemingly lost in thought. Logan took the hint and grilled Bill on drugs until he admitted that he, along with his roommates, smoked a little pot from time to time.
Logan kept him talking, switching the subject as often as he felt like it. I think that's why he liked interrogations so much. You're supposed to switch topics to throw the person off. Logan was a natural.
"What time did you get home?" Logan asked.
"Around twelve-thirty. They weren't there when I got home."
"Anyone else around that knows where you were?" Logan asked.
"I don't think so, only my girlfriend."
"What classes did your friends take?"
They were talking about classes and school when Logan flipped subjects. "What's that around your neck?" Logan asked.
I, too, had noticed that Bill kept touching something under his shirt.
"It's ah, nothing, a necklace." Floods of orange and browns filled Bill’s Path, strong enough that the room would hold another layer of emotion for a long time to come.
Chapter 5
Taking a closer look at the necklace, I saw that it held a Path of its own that had extended itself. This wasn't the dim Path of an object that moved through an area, this held power on its own. It was possible that my imagination was running away with me, but my fingers itched to investigate the piece further. Since we were in a police station, taking evidence without a proper procedure was frowned upon, so we'd have to work through the locals to get what we needed.
We stood and thanked Bill for his time. Some officers at the door appeared to be eager to get back in, and barely took the time to point us in the direction of Detective Parker. Actually, it was Logan that was pointed in that direction. They were trying their best to ignore me.
"Are you all taking him away?" The detective asked when we approached his desk.
"I don't think he's done anything," Logan said.
"Are you all holding him?" I asked.
"Everything looks normal," Detective Parker said, "but each of the victims disappeared for about thirty minutes before they turned up dead. We're trying to piece things together."
"We do want to investigate a little further, but we don't want to step on any toes," I added.
"What do you need?" The detective's voice had sunk a level. Maybe he was being overworked.
"He's wearing something around his neck," I said. "We'd like to hold it for testing."
The detective raised his eyebrows at us. "You want his necklace?"
"Yes. Taken into evidence with no one else laying hands on it," I added.
"We know how to take evidence." There was an edge to his voice. "Why didn't you collect it?"
I shrugged. "If you'd rather we take-"
"We'll take care of it." Detective Parker left us standing.
Logan introduced himself to an officer at another desk. The man looked surprised at first, but the elf could manage to make friends anywhere he went. The man offered Logan a seat and before long, they were chatting.
I stood awkwardly, feeling completely out of place. People walked by, and I tried to stay out of the way.
A man bumped into me on his way by, despite having loads of room to walk. I almost apologized, but I bit my tongue. He walked into me; there was nothing for me to apologize for.
"Watch it, lady." His eyes and attitude dripped with disdain. He looked so young that he had probably walked out of the police academy yesterday.
I'd had enough aggravation for one day. "I'm pretty sure you have enough space to move around."
The man crossed his arms. "You don't belong in here."
"Right now, I'd rather be about anywhere else." I tried to keep the derision out of my voice. I can't say that I was particularly successful, but it's the thought that counts.
"You have an issue with us?" He dropped his arms and stood up straighter.
"There a problem, officer?" Detective Parker asked.
I looked over at Logan who had stood watching the debacle, but he took a seat and grinned before going back to his conversation.
"She's in the way." The officer smirked in my direction.
Detective Parker frowned at him. "Before you say anything else, officer, it takes a minute to walk across the room. It's pretty obvious how you two bumped into each other."
The officer glared at me and walked away.
"Sorry about that," the detective said, as he watched the
officer walk away.
My aggravation drained away, leaving gloom in its wake. "It's okay. I'm getting used to it."
He raised an eyebrow and looked at me. "You shouldn't have to get used to treatment like that."
"I've had a charming reception all around so far," I said, feeling dejected.
Detective Parker started to talk, and then stopped.
Logan joined us, and I tried to look professional.
"Don't worry about it," I said. "I'm sure it was a misunderstanding."
"I have your evidence." Detective Parker was addressing both of us for the first time. "Sorry it took so long, but it had to be documented."
They probably took pictures from every angle and recorded the object in meticulous detail, all because we wanted to take a look.
Logan took the necklace and signed for it. "We'll send it back your way as soon as we're done with it. Are you releasing the kid?"
"In a few minutes. He's looking over his official statement now."
"To follow up, we'd like to take a cursory review of the victims," I said.
"Sure, I'll call ahead and let them know you're coming," Detective Parker said.
"Thank you," I said, my smile not as forged as it had been.
Detective Parker looked like he was stuck in his own mind when he walked us out, but then with three possible homicides in one night, it was no wonder.
"Do you have all you need?" Detective Parker asked.
"Yes," Logan said, "but it doesn't look like we have a case here. We'll ask someone to drop the evidence back to you in a few days."
"Feel free to stop by if you need anything else," Detective Parker said.
"We don't do much work in town, but it was nice meeting you," Logan said.
Detective Parker shook our hands. "It was nice to meet you, Agent Seale, and you, Agent Heidrich."
"Okay," I said, but my mind was already on our next stop, the hospital.
Logan didn't look bothered about going to the morgue. Standing next to me waiting to be let out, he was humming, and this time, it was music that humans could mimic.
A buzz and a loud clunk announced that we could leave.
Broken Paths (AIR Book 2) Page 3
