The Promised One (The Turning Stone Chronicles)

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The Promised One (The Turning Stone Chronicles) Page 18

by C. D. Hersh


  “Apparently, I missed that lesson since I didn’t get training as a child. Baron was too busy hiding me from whoever killed my parents and brother to take time to train me.”

  A pained expression flitted over Sylvia’s face. Alexi tried to define the emotion, but it vanished before she could figure it out. Did Sylvia still grieve over her family’s death? If she and Baron had been married she would have known them very well. But that didn’t fit Eli’s perception of her. He’d called her evil. Said she’d tried to make her parents evil. She studied Sylvia. Evil people could love. Sylvia had indicated she still loved Baron. Had she loved her parents, too?

  Stop giving her the benefit of doubt. If Eli said she was evil, then she’s evil. You know you can trust him. Sylvia’s motives, at best, are questionable.

  Sylvia snapped her fingers in front of Alexi’s face. “Hey, are you with me?”

  “Sorry, I was thinking about my family.”

  “Forget about that and concentrate on what we’re doing.” Sylvia handed her a magazine and pointed at the female model on the cover. “Let’s mimic her now. Five seconds. Go.”

  She tapped into her subconscious and drew on the skills she used to transform into Garrett, making the transition from her current male form to the female model in seven seconds. Doing it any faster might not be advisable. She needed to keep some surprises up her sleeve. She might need them when the time came to face Sylvia down.

  “Better,” Sylvia said. “But not good enough. Try again. I know how quickly you can shift into Garrett.”

  Showing her that had probably been a mistake. But that happened before I knew who she really was. “It’s not as easy as you might think. I’ve not spent a lot of time in my alter ego and even less mimic shifting.”

  “Children can do it faster. Try again. And keep your eyes open.”

  Alexi shifted a couple more times, taking Sylvia’s instructive jabs with gritted teeth. She longed to shout, “I’m a Promised One. I can beat you at anything.” But she knew where wisdom lay in the tenuous relationship with Sylvia and it wasn’t in insulting or infuriating her. Maintaining a balance between being teammates and double-crossing wasn’t going to be easy. She hoped Sylvia would buy the act.

  When she couldn’t stand the digging remarks, she shifted back to her natural form. “Enough. I think I’ve got the idea. I’ll practice on my own.”

  “We should really meet again so I can test you.”

  Don’t you mean so you can determine if you can beat me? She didn’t believe for one minute Sylvia had any other motive. “We don’t have time to play, Sylvia. Whatever I can do will have to be sufficient. We’ve got a killer running amok with a Turning Stone ring. We have to find him before he takes anyone else down.”

  Sylvia cocked her dark head to one side and scrutinized her. “Do you know something I don’t?”

  Alexi opened the door and, over her shoulder, said to Sylvia, “Everyone knows something someone else doesn’t know. What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I don’t appreciate cracks like that. If I were you, I’d watch my back.”

  Whirling around, Alexi flattened her back against the door.

  “Not from me, of course,” Sylvia added in a saccharine tone.

  So the gloves are off, if she ever had them on. “It’s nice to know you’re on my side,” Alexi said brusquely.

  Sylvia’s black eyes glinted. “It’s possible that we’re not the only shifters hunting for Baron’s ring.”

  Possible? After the group she’d run across in Rogueman’s Bar, she’d bet her life on it, and that’s what it might cost her if she didn’t get to Baron’s killer first. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Chapter 32

  “Where have you been?” Rhys asked as Alexi dropped onto her desk chair.

  “I had to meet a contact of Baron’s this morning.” Not exactly a lie. Sylvia had known Baron.

  “The captain wants us to go over Pawling’s story. I scheduled an interview with him. We’ve got twenty minutes to get there.” Rhys handed her a videotape. “Burglary sent this over. Jewelry store security tape.”

  She took the tape, dropped it in the desk drawer, and stood. “We’ll check it after we interview Pawling. I can’t wait to get on this one.”

  “Me either. How does someone commit a perfect crime like this? An airtight alibi and video of the crime. This Pawling fellow’s got to be a genius.”

  “Or a victim. Don’t go in assuming he’s guilty, Rhys.”

  “Murphy said the video is an open-and-shut case for a conviction.”

  “Except for the alibi.”

  Rhys raked his hair back at the temples and put on his Stetson. “We’ll just have to figure out how he did it.”

  He didn’t. The trick would be figuring out who mimicked Pawling.

  “Like I told the other officers, I was here the day the jewelry store was robbed. I’ve got over half a dozen witnesses.” Patrick Pawling seemed more than a bit irked at being questioned as second time.

  The prim secretary sitting next to Pawling shook her head so adamantly her topknot bun nearly came undone. “I was sitting right here next to him.” She pointed across the conference table. “Steven Johnson was over there and Amanda Forrest over there and—”

  “Just give them the list of names. They don’t need a roadmap of the conference table.”

  The secretary removed a sheet of paper from the folder she clutched to her chest and handed it to Rhys, batting her eyelashes at him. “Is there anything else I can get you, Detective Temple?”

  “You’re dismissed, Ivy,” Pawling barked. “If they need you again, I’ll buzz.”

  Ivy jumped up from her seat and scurried from the room so quickly it reminded Alexi of a mouse scampering from a cat. Did he talk to all his employees like that? If so, he probably ruffled feathers all the time. That could give him a few enemies, not that it mattered to this case. Still, she had to go through the motions for Rhys’ sake.

  “The other officers said the video images are definitely you, Mr. Pawling. Do you have a twin, or have you ever seen someone who looks like you? A double, maybe?” Alexi opened her notepad and poised her pen over the paper.

  “I’m an only child. I don’t even have a cousin who resembles me in the slightest.” He scooted his chair back from the conference table and crossed his arms against his chest. “Are you planning to charge me with something? If so, I’ll call in my lawyer.”

  “Are you guilty of something, Mr. Pawling?” Rhys drawled as he relaxed against the doorjamb.

  “Hell, no!” Pawling bounded from his chair. “But I am getting tired of all these insinuations.”

  Alexi patted the chair arm. “Please sit down, sir. We’re not charging you with anything, just trying to figure out how you could appear to be in two places at once.”

  Pawling sat back down, clearly placated by Alexi’s statement. “Even Houdini couldn’t do that, and I’m certainly no magician.”

  “Do you have any enemies?” Rhys asked.

  “I’m a businessman, detective. A very successful one. I’m sure in my rise to the top I’ve offended my share of people, but none that would go to the length of impersonating me and killing someone.”

  Alexi stabbed at the notepad with her pen. “We think the killing might not have been part of the plan. The second clerk lunged at the robber.”

  “So he shot him in self defense?”

  “No.” She switched topics. “I understand you’re a regular customer at the store.”

  “Yeah, but that’s not a crime.”

  “I wasn’t insinuating it was. Do you remember anyone in the store who might have been watching you? Trying to figure out your schedule?”

  “My presence turns heads wherever I go. I’m a well-known businessman.”

  And pretty full of yourself. Had she not been so convinced Baron’s killer was the robber, she might suspect this egocentrist of the crime. He seemed like the kind of guy who thought he
was untouchable. A slippery perp. Alexi doodled on the notepad. Pawling inched toward her trying to catch a glimpse. She tilted the notepad away from him and made a few more scribbles on the paper, just to pique his curiosity even more.

  “Where are you going with this line of questioning, Detective Jordan?”

  “Since your alibi seems airtight, I’m just trying to figure out if anyone might have been tailing you to make you look like the perp in this crime.”

  Rhys moved into Pawling’s personal space and stared at him. “You said you had enemies.”

  Pawling edged away from Rhys, obviously intimidated by his closeness. “I said I might have offended a few people. Big difference.”

  “Too bad.” Rhys offhandedly slouched against the wall and picked at his fingernails. “It would go better if you could name a few people who hated you. That would at least give us motive for believing you’re innocent.”

  A red flush climbed Pawling’s neck. Rhys was starting to tick off the man. She moved in with another line of questioning. “The robber claimed to be you, Mr. Pawling, and he said he had to get in early to buy a gift for his wife so she wouldn’t leave him. Word is that you’ve been having some marital problems. We haven’t talked to your wife yet, but we’ll be questioning her soon.” She paused and let the statement sink in, watching Pawling’s eyes widen as he realized where she was headed.

  “What’s your relationship with your wife like?” Rhys asked bluntly.

  “Now wait just a minute,” Pawling sputtered.

  Rhys fired another question at him. “Has your wife had any clandestine meetings recently? Maybe she wants to arrange some jail time for you, so she can have more freedom while you’re gone?”

  Pawling’s jaw ground sideways in agitation. Rhys absently fingered the brim of his Stetson, one corner of his mouth curling in a mocking smile. “I spotted her picture on your desk. Quite a looker and a nice trophy . . . for an older gentleman like you.”

  Pawling smacked his palm against the table. “That’s quite enough. I think we’re done here.”

  Alexi tucked her notepad into her pocket and stood, grabbing the handcuffs clipped to her belt. “We can do this here, in privacy—which I’d much prefer, as I’m certain you would—or you can call your attorney before we take you down to the precinct as a hostile witness. Which will it be, Mr. Pawling?”

  Pawling’s jaw worked side-to-side as he contemplated his decision. After a couple of seconds, he glared at Rhys. “I’ll answer your questions, Detective Jordan,” he said between clenched teeth. “But only if you keep him on a leash.”

  She raised a questioning eyebrow at Rhys. He dragged a chair against the wall and settled into it with a smirk. “He’s all yours, Jordan.”

  Trying to hide her own smile, Alexi directed her attention back toward Pawling. Good cop/bad cop worked on so many levels.

  “Anything new?” Captain Williams asked as Alexi and Rhys appeared at his office door.

  “No,” Rhys answered. “Other than I think the man’s not getting much at home. He’s testy as a bear awakened from hibernation.”

  Alexi rolled her eyes at her partner. “You insulted the man’s wife. Practically called her an adulteress. What did you expect?”

  Rhys tipped the brim of his Stetson back and slouched against the doorjamb. “It worked, didn’t it?”

  “Usually does.” Williams motioned them in. “Take a load off and tell me what you got.”

  Alexi flipped open her notepad and scanned the few notes she’d taken. “Seven witnesses, all swearing Pawling was with them at the time of the crime. Even though he’s the kind of boss you wouldn’t want to cross, I think they’re telling the truth.” She snapped her notepad shut. “Pawling is a dead end, Captain.”

  “I’m not so sure. Instinct tells me there’s more to this than meets the eye. I want you to keep digging.”

  What he expected to find she didn’t know, but the mere fact he continued searching wasn’t good. The captain needed to dismiss Pawling, call the case unsolvable, and move on so she could keep hunting Baron’s killer on the sly, using police resources.

  “There is the tape Murphy gave us this morning,” Rhys said. “We can review that for further ideas.”

  Remembering the other tape in the drawer—the one from the first jewelry store heist-she started to leave before Rhys volunteered to get the tape.

  “Stay, Jordan. I want to talk to you.”

  “I don’t want him pawing through my desk, Captain,” Alexi said as she blocked Rhys’ exit. “He’ll make a mess of things. I’ll get the tape.”

  “Jordan, get back here,” the captain commanded. “Temple, you get the tape.” He motioned for Alexi to sit down and she took a seat across from him. “So, how have things been going? You okay being back on the job?”

  His attempt at chitchat surprised her. The captain wasn’t much for small talk. What was he really after? She stuck her notepad in her pocket. “I’m doing fine. Thanks for asking.”

  An awkward silence hung between them before the captain cleared his throat and spoke again. “I guess Temple told you I think this case is somehow connected to Baron.”

  “He mentioned it. Although I don’t see a connection.”

  “Just a feeling. I can’t put my finger on it, but when you’ve been a cop as long as I have, unexplainable things gnaw at you until you figure them out.”

  Not good. The likelihood of the captain connecting anything to shape shifting had to be remote. The mere idea set her on edge. “So if you’re so sure the two are connected, why did you assign me to the case?”

  “This killer isn’t a Baron look-a-like. I figured you’d have no trouble with the trigger if it came to that.” He paused and scrutinized her carefully. “You’ve never taken anyone down, have you?”

  “No.” But I may have to and not in an official capacity. How will that play out? Will I be able to pull the trigger to get the ring?

  “Does the thought unsettle you?”

  “Shouldn’t it? We’re talking about someone’s life here.”

  “Of course it should, but as a cop you have to be ready for that chance.” He rose from his chair and crossed over to where she sat. “I’ve been worried about you ever since your uncle’s death, Alexi.”

  There he goes with the first name again. She steeled herself for sympathy.

  He touched her lightly on the shoulder. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you, if you need to talk to someone. A pseudo uncle figure, so to speak.”

  That was unexpected. She scanned the captain’s aura. There was nothing there to suggest anything but truthfulness. His caring attitude struck a chord. A lump grew in her throat. She’d lost Baron, and three men had come to her aid—Rhys, Eli, and the captain—hovering over her like guardian angels, offering shoulders to cry on and protection. Too bad she could only trust one of them with everything.

  Rhys popped his head into the office, breaking the emotional moment. “Gladys has the tape ready in the viewing room.”

  Captain Williams quickly moved away from Alexi, becoming all business. “Let’s review what we’ve got.”

  As the security tape rolled, Alexi sank deeper into her chair. Rhys had given Gladys the wrong tape. She waited for the explosion, wondering who would erupt first—Rhys or the captain.

  The image of Baron robbing the jewelry store brought Captain Williams to his feet. “Where did this come from, Jordan?” he demanded.

  “Burglary.” No sense in lying. He’d find out one way or another.

  “I thought I told you to keep out of those cases.”

  “Yeah, you did,” she said sheepishly. “But I’ve never been too good at following instructions.”

  A tiny snigger escaped from Gladys. Alexi shot her a glare that stopped the giggle mid-sound.

  “I can’t believe you did this without telling me.” Reproach filled Rhys’ eyes. “We’re partners.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t go along with it. And if you had, the ca
ptain would have had your head. By keeping you in the dark, I was protecting you.”

  “That’s a bunch of bull and you know it.” Rhys spat the words out at her.

  The captain popped the tape out of the player and tossed it on the table. “Are you going to make me regret bringing you off bereavement leave, Jordan?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “One more shenanigan like this and I’ll suspend you indefinitely. Got it?”

  Alexi tried to put the right amount of remorse into her body language and her voice to placate the captain. “Got it, Sir.” Next time she’d have to be more careful.

  The captain handed the other tape to Gladys, who popped it into the player. “Is that Pawling?” the captain asked, as a man’s image appeared on the screen.

  Rhys let out a long, low whistle. “Man, is he a dead ringer.”

  “Looks just like him.” Alexi peered closer at the screen, trying to catch a glimpse of the man’s hands. The robbery played out in front of them like a silent movie. When the thief placed the empty bag on the glass countertop, Alexi spotted the ring. “Stop it there, Gladys. Now freeze-frame and enlarge it. Focus in on the stuff in the jewelry case.”

  Even though the tape was black and white, she recognized the markings on the ring—three intertwined circles. Whoever was robbing the store was shifted.

  “What are you looking for, Jordan?”

  “Did the clerk say he took all the stuff in the case?” she asked, trying to throw suspicion off her real motive for the close-up.

  “All but a necklace she dropped on the floor.” The captain frowned at her and then scrutinized the screen. “We’ve got a full description of the case.”

  Alexi indicated that Gladys should start the tape again. “Next time he turns around, try to get a headshot.”

  The clerk filled the bag and the thief grabbed it and presented a full frontal shot to the security camera. Gladys stopped the action and focused in on the man’s head, enlarging it until the face filled the screen.

 

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