by T. G. Ayer
Today, Chloe and her husband were a combo deal. Which I’d never seen as a problem. They’d always had my back. The only issue is I’d recently gotten their home blasted to smithereens.
Demons had come looking for me while I’d made a visit to the Murdoch’s home. The Captain had given me files pertaining to a case I’d been investigating, and on one particular visit with him I’d been tracked only to have the demons obliterated the building.
Both the Captain and Chloe had seemed to understand, had never blamed me for the incident but something had changed. Not in their feelings for me. More in their availability to helped.
It could be my imagination, but they’d seemed less available. I had to wonder if they were dealing with the ramifications of the accident; insurance, the loss of personal items, bearing the brunt of losing top secret files.
Had there been forms to fill in for all the files lost in the resulting fire?
Had his superiors been curious as to what the captain had been doing with so many files in his home?
Had anyone made the connection between those files and the cases of a certain infamous tracker?
I shivered at the thought of the consequences of that fire, acknowledging my fear that perhaps the destruction of Captain Murdoch’s home meant the destruction of our symbiotic relationship.
I sighed, throwing the dust rag into the laundry basket and stowing the polish into its drawer. Today I was in an anal mood. Probably because I was tired. I needed sleep, but before that, I needed to make a little more sense of things.
Especially things related to Gina.
I sat at the kitchen table and projected quickly, the path to Gina now easy to find and navigate. This time I found her sitting on a park bench watching the family from the mall play frisbee and eating breakfast on a blue-and-white checkered tablecloth laid out on the grass beneath an oak. Unaware of their surveillance, they played and laughed and ate. It was pretty obvious to me that family unit was healthy and comfortable with each other.
Was that something Gina liked about them? Perhaps the challenge of breaking them up enticed her?
Slipping back into my body, I headed to Steph up in the comms room.
We’d erected a hidden communications hub in the attic, hiding it inside a safe room that was sound proof and hack proof. Well kitted out, it had the most modern technology, including a bank of monitors covering one wall. Steph was sitting on top of one of the desks, cross legged with a keyboard balanced on her knees. So much for paying for perfectly good chairs.
“Morning, boss,” she said as she chewed a sliced of half toasted bread.
“Hey.” I stood in the doorway not wanting to give her the impression that I was sticking around to chat.
“You look like crap. Go sleep.”
“Well, thanks so much.” I rolled my eyes. “Need you to check something for me.”
“Shoot,” she said as one of the monitors above her showed a new blank document being opened.
“Find out if anything unusual occurred prior to the deaths that had to do with the fathers of each family, and if there were any accusations of affairs or inappropriate behaviour with young girls. Keep the original search parameters of families, and unusual ensuing deaths.”
Steph’s eyebrows rose as she typed my request. “What are you thinking?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know yet. Just a hunch that could be nothing. Text me what you find.”
I had to wonder if this was all just a coincidence and that Gina may have a very good reason for stalking this man. Had he done something to her? To her father? Was he blackmailing her? Or had he been the one to seduce her first?
My head hurt with the possibilities.
Chapter 29
Considering I was about to ask the Captain for such a huge favor, I decided it was best to do it in person. I sent a text to Chloe asking if it would be okay to come by. To say that I was nervous, would have been an understatement.
It took a few minutes, but I received a text back inviting me over for breakfast. Even though I had already had mine, I didn't decline; a second breakfast was a small price to pay for keeping the peace between myself and the Murdoch’s.
I was about to teleport over to the Murdoch’s apartment when Steph rang me.
From upstairs.
“Is it so hard to use the stairs?” I asked as I answered the call.
She sniffed. “I’m in the middle of something.”
“So what’s so important you had to ring me?”
“I’m walled.”
“What?” I scowled. Sometimes Steph’s word games were hard to figure out.
“Walled. Stone. Fire.”
I scratched my head. “Oh,” I said with a grin. “Firewalled?”
The sound of slurping rang in my ears. “Yep. I can’t get through. Anything with that parameter combination is drawing a blank. It’s all top top secret shit. If I go any further I’m going to end up ringing the wrong bells.”
I sighed. “Fine. I’ll talk to Captain Murdoch. Maybe he can un-wall you.”
She snorted but I was already teleporting to the couple’s apartment and unfortunately there was no cell reception in the ether.
I arrived outside the apartment door, not yet confident enough to materialise in their front hall like I’d done for all these years. Since their home had been destroyed, I’d been filled with remorse and guilt. I wondered if I was just doing this to myself, self releasing or manifesting or whatever they called it.
Flicking the doorbell, I waited only seconds when a very disapproving Chloe answered the door. Her eyes sparkled, only with anger and not joy at seeing me.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“What . . .” I hesitated, unsure where to start.
“Get your ass inside here. What if someone saw you?” she snapped, grabbing me by the elbow and tugging me inside. Shutting the door, she turned and glared at me. “Can you explain to me what that was about?” She pointed at the door, her tiny little finger holding far more ability to instil fear in me than even the most blood-thirsty demon.
“Er . . . I didn’t want to barge in on you. Figured I’d knock just in case.”
Chloe took a step toward me, forcing me to back away. I couldn't get far because my ass was up against the hall table and there wasn't anywhere to go. I looked at her, sheepish and a little amused.
Chloe Murdoch was tiny. If she was five foot she’d be lucky. WIth her long auburn hair twisted into a low bun, wisps escaping around her face, she should have looked like someone's grandma. Instead she had the old-worldly grace of movie stars from the fifties and sixties.
“Chloe. Stop threatening the poor girl.” Captain Murdoch stood on the threshold looking at us with a smile on his face.
Chloe snorted. “I’d do more than threaten if I knew it would make a difference. She’s been part of our lives since she was twelve, always arriving inside our house like she belongs here, and now suddenly. she thinks it’s okay to knock on my damn door.” She sniffed then, gave me a glare, then turned on her heel and stormed off down the hall.
I looked up at the Captain’s face not sure whether I should be amused or upset. “I don’t know what I did.”
Murdoch came to my side, peeled me away from the hall table, and guided me to the lounge. “Be patient with her. So much has changed for her. Losing our home was one thing. She’s terrified of losing you too.”
“But why would she think that?”
Murdoch sighed then turned to face me. “Imagine what it would feel like if your child has always entered your house with their key and then one day, after a fight, begins to use the door. Wouldn't you feel like a line has been drawn in the sand? That maybe a wall was being built that one day you would not be able to surmount?”
“I had no idea she felt this way.”
He tilted his head. “How could you when you’ve stayed away from us all this time.”
I swallowed hard, trying not to cry. “I wasn’t sure I’d be all
that welcome. I am a constant reminder of everything you both lost. Not to mention the very reason you lost it all.”
Murdoch patted my arm then beckoned me to the kitchen. “Things happen that we cannot control, Mel. And besides, we have always been aware of the dangers of associated with any number of the kids Chloe deals with, or even the troubled ones I come into contact with.”
He was smiling so kindly that I didn't know what else to say. I followed him into the kitchen, noticing the modern industrial styling of the concrete countertop, stainless steel sink, handles, light fittings, and stove.
The apartment they were renting was so unlike their own home that I wasn’t comfortable in it at all. If I felt out of place in it, then surely they would too. But Chloe seemed totally at home, piling bacon and eggs onto plates and topping off the last of the pancake tower.
It felt like the old days, when she’d taken me home and tried to coax me out of my voluntary vow of silence, plying me with food and games until I finally gave in.
We ate and chatted about inconsequential things, the odd brush of Chloe’s fingertips against mine relieving my stress. She seemed calmer now, the mundane tasks of cooking and eating pushing aside her emotional strain.
I’d even forgotten I wasn’t meant to be hungry to begin with.
At last Captain Murdoch sat back, rubbing his rounded belly with a satisfied smile. Neither of them looked troubled, and I wanted to yell out that they’d just lost their whole world and should be at least a little upset.
Murdoch leaned forward and patted the back of my hand. “What’s the matter, Mel? What’s going on in that busy little head of yours.”
I sighed, figuring the best thing to do was to ask. “I need help finding info on a case.”
He nodded. “Santiani?”
I shook my head. “You sent him?” Shoulda known.
Murdoch smiled. He’d never admitted to me when he sent someone my way. For reasons of his own he preferred to play those cards close to his chest. “Heard he was in a coma.”
I didn’t bother to ask how he knew that.
“He’s out of it now. Feeling a little better from what I saw, but the prognosis isn’t good.”
Murdoch’s face darkened. “You need to do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this case, Mel. Even if not to save Santiani, but at least to prevent another man like him from being killed.”
I sat forward. “You know him?”
Murdoch nodded. “We grew up together. I wasn’t always a cop, you know.”
Chloe’s inelegant snort made me hide a smile.
Since he had a personal interest in Carlo Santiani, I said, “Well, I need help getting into a bunch of restricted files.”
Murdoch nodded. “I’ll get you the accesses.”
“Can you tell Steph? I may not be around.”
“The case?” he asked as he pushed his plate away.
I shook my head. “No. I'm helping a friend out.”
Murdoch nodded. While we spoke, Chloe cleared the table but when I tried to get to my feet in order to help, the captain grasped my arm. I sat, giving him a curious look.
He eased a two-inch steel tube from his pocket and placed it in my hand. “Take that. Have it checked.”
“Am I supposed to guess what it is?”
His eyebrows bobbed. The Captains version of an eyeroll. “Carlo’s blood. The hospital investigators called in the FBI, who called in Sentinel.”
“And you want an independent opinion?”
He nodded.
“What tests am I running?”
“Magical ones,” said Chloe as she sat heavily into her seat. For the first time she was showing her age, tiny crow’s feet lined the corners of her eyes, and shadows bruised the skin beneath beneath them. I looked from her to the Captain, and back.
“You think there is magical influence behind his illness?” That would make sense. Steph and I had already discussed it and it would explain the speed of the course of his progression.
She nodded. “His blood work didn't make sense. The hospital has a low level mage on call and his opinion is that Carlo’s blood contained magical properties. A presence of a demonic spirit or, at the very least, a trace of a demonic entity.”
“Like an infection?” she nodded. “Was it the cause or just part of the problem?”
“No way of telling.” My eyes sent her a question. “James Lam is a low level mage. Calling in a more powerful supernatural would be a blow to his ego, and would draw more attention to the case than is necessary.
“I see.” I paused. “Okay. I’ll take it to Natasha.”
The white witch was the only person I knew who knew anything about demonic entities that would actually divulge such information to me. Witches, warlocks, sorcerers and necromancers were a level of magic unto themselves. Some helped, others didn't, while still others enjoyed making things worse.
“Be careful with it. It’s all I was able to take without drawing attention,” said Captain Murdoch.
“Are you sure it’s safe for you to do this?”
He frowned. “Why?”
I shrugged, averting my eyes. “After the house . . . after what happened to your house, surely the CPD have been asking question. You don’t want to draw any more attention by making people suspect you are still helping me?”
“My dear girl. I’m way too old to give a damn about what people think.”
“Now you’re being reckless.”
“Am I now?” he was getting defensive, the way he usually got when he knew he was wrong.
“Yep. What will I do if you get kicked off the force? Who’s going to help me with info and keep Fulbright off my back?”
Both Chloe and the captain burst out laughing, but I left my mirth level on low simmer.
“I’m being serious. You can’t be too careful. What if you’re targeted for helping me out?”
Murdoch smiled. “Don’t worry about that. Come the day I have to stand up to them because of you, I’ll be only too happy to tell them where to get off. I wonder if they even have any idea of how many closed cases are solved by paranormal investigators. How many live cases are concluded only because of paranormal help.”
I was still shaking my head, but I knew it was a waste of time trying to battle with him. The man was worse than a mule when it came to being stubborn. I pocketed the metal tube and got to my feet.
“Right. I think maybe I should get going and drop this off. I don’t exactly feel comfortable with it so close to my skin.”
“Honey, I don’t think you need to worry about germs.”
“Germs are not what worry me, Chloe,” I said, bending to hug her tightly.
I felt a lot better now that I’d confirmed they didn’t hate me. I probably hated me enough so they didn’t need to. A lot was still left unsaid, given my propensity to avoid emotionally loaded conversations. But for now I figured I’d let it lie and ease up on beating myself up. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe I’d feel less guilty tomorrow.
Not bloody likely.
I left the apartment in better spirits, comforted by the care they showed for me. But my mood was tainted by the presence of the tube. I’d been honest with Chloe. I didn’t care about the germs. It was the demonic taint that it was meant to contain that made me feel uncomfortable.
I already had one demonic possession to deal with.
Chapter 30
I jumped back into our living room to find Drake pacing and furious, his sweat-soaked tee stocking to his skin.
“Where the fuck have you been?” he snapped as I materialized, skin flushed probably from a training session.
I raised my eyebrows. “Breakfast with the Murdochs. I had to ask him for help with access to top secret files.”
He paused, shoved out of his attack-dog mode. “Top secret?”
“Yeah, Steph hit a few walls and needed clearance so the Captain is going to arrange it discreetly and fast.”
“What was top secret?” He’d stopped pacing.<
br />
“Steph’s search for families who have died under suspicious circumstances that appear similar to the Santianis. Once I added suspicious affairs or relationships with younger females for the fathers, Steph hit her walls.”
The gargoyle frowned. “Why would anyone classify that as top secret?”
“Maybe it’s something to do with this?” I said, drawing the metal tube from my pocket.
He reached for it, turning it over in his hand. “Interesting?” He handed it back. “What is it?”
“It’s a tube of Santiani’s blood that Sentinel wanted tested.” Drake frowned. Before he could ask why, I said, “Apparently they suspect that it has traces of demonic magic.”
“Suspect. Do they not know?” Drake was certainly short-tempered today.
“Low level mage.”
“Ah. Makes sense.” Drake nodded. “So the Captain wants you to test it as well. Covering all his bases. Smart man.”
I snorted as I turned on my heel and headed upstairs. “Not smart enough to know he should keep the hell away from me. Look what he got for sending me clients.”
“For someone so smart you are sometimes very dumb.” Drake's words brought me to a standstill and I turned on the riser and looked at him. He was two steps behind, and leaned against the wall, a cold smile on his face.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I was partly curious, partly pissed off.
“It means that you can't see what’s right in front of you. The Murdochs care more for you than they do for the house they lived in.”
“It wasn’t just a house. It was a home. Years of memories. Of a life lived together.”
“And you really think memories mean more to them than your life?”
I shrugged. “I know they care. I do. It’s just I feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
Drake snorted. “Stop waiting. They don’t hate you. They never will. People don’t turn on family and from what I’ve seen of your relationship with them, you are the child they never had. It’s likely why they devoted so much of their lives to you.”
I pursed my lips.
