Dominion: Zoë Martinique Investigation, Book 6

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Dominion: Zoë Martinique Investigation, Book 6 Page 9

by Phaedra Weldon


  Mastiff nodded. "I agree on part of that." He glanced at the two Canadian officers and then focused on the no-nonsense woman. "Captain Little—" (oh no…seriously?!) "—I'm not going to agree that Daniel Frasier didn't have something to do with this, but I'm not going to say he's doing it alone."

  Joe's jaw clenched, but I was surprised he didn't say anything. Captain Little turned to the two out-of-town cops. "We'll handle things from here. You can go back home, and as soon as we know—"

  "Captain Little," Carter interrupted, and I cringed. I didn't know this little woman, but I was pretty sure that was a bad thing to do. "Constable Theotokos and I are here until you catch both of the suspects."

  Captain Little put her hands on her hips, and although she was a good few inches shorter, stared the asshole down. "Constable Carter," she said, and her words dripped ice. "You do not have jurisdiction here. I have been in touch with your superiors, and you and your partner are here on your own. Finding and dealing with Karl Gibbons is the only thing your superior wants, and we can work with that. But Daniel Frasier, even if he was seen or identified in Montreal, committed no crime, nor was he identified in one. He is not a person of interest to you, or to the RCMP." She took a step forward, and he actually took a step back. "You need to leave my crime scene, or I'll have you and your partner put on ice until I can ship you back to Canada myself."

  Ooh…I like her!

  Yay for the little woman!

  I wasn't surprised that Mae stepped forward and pulled Carter back. She'd been the one to diffuse the situation in Montreal as well. Maybe that's why the two had been paired with one another. "Oui. Come, Alfred. Let zem do zere job."

  But Carter just wasn't going to budge. He pointed a finger past Captain Little to Joe. "You're protecting him because he's your old partner. But I know Daniel Frasier's behind this. He attacked Ms. Martinique and tried to kill her. She wouldn't finger him in Montreal, but I can make her ID him. I also know the guy claiming to be her fiancé isn't her fiancé. He's Jason Lawrence's attaché! I swear I'm going to find out what it is you're hiding, Detective Halloran. I'll find Ms. Martinique and have her brought in for questioning, and I'll make her talk—"

  I don't think anyone expected Joe to do what he did next. Especially not me. But he moved the distance between himself and Constable Carter pretty fast, and with one punch across the asshole's face, laid him out flat on his back.

  "Halloran!" Captain Little yelled out.

  But Joe wasn't having it. He had a finger pointed down at Carter. "You will not touch Zoë; do I make myself clear? She does not need your bullshit, and neither do we. You heard the captain. Get the fuck out of here!"

  Mae tugged on Carter, whose nose was bleeding all over his mouth and chin. He grabbed a handkerchief out of his pocket, and pushed it into his nose as he got up and glared at Joe. "This isn't over, Halloran," he said, his voice muffled through the cloth. Mae was still trying to pull him away.

  "Oh, yes, it is. I'm ordering you out," Captain Little said, and motioned to two uniforms to her right. "Please escort these two out of the park."

  They nodded and flanked the two constables as they left.

  Captain Little rounded on Joe and had a finger in his face. "Don't you ever do that again, you got that? I can fight my own battles."

  Joe's jaw clenched again. It was kinda sexy. "I wasn't fighting your battle, captain. I was fighting for Zoë. I don't like the way he keeps dragging her into this. And I'm guessing they were the ones who wanted you to have me tailing Zoë?"

  She didn't answer.

  Joe rubbed at his striking hand. "I thought so." He pointed back at the bodies. "Zoë Martinique was raped and left in the exact same way with her boyfriend at the time, nearly five years ago. That was the first of these kinds of attacks. Zoë survived. Whether this guy, Karl Gibbons, really died in a shootout or not, we can't ignore the fact she is the only survivor so far. All the others have died."

  Captain Little looked at him intently. "Which is why I have to agree that she needs protective custody, Halloran. You have to bring her in and let us take care of her."

  Uh uh. No way.

  "Captain, Zoë knows the dangers, and she's willing to face them. Leaving her alone might actually lure this guy out. If he's following her to Canada and now back—then I think he's waiting his turn to finish the job." He licked his lips and swallowed. "Daniel Frasier was obsessed with finding that guy while he was dating Zoë. I think…I think he's watching for this Karl guy, too. I think he's figured it out. I don't think he's out there wanting to hurt her."

  "But she didn't identify Karl as being the one that attacked her in Montreal."

  "Because she didn't see who it was."

  "Frasier was there with her, wasn't he?"

  Joe didn't answer immediately, and Captain Little held up a hand. "Never mind. Work this case, Halloran. But I don't want Ms. Martinique in any danger. I don't want our only witness to this guy killed."

  I felt him look up in the air at me, one of the few people who could see me. "I don't think that'll happen."

  That's when I felt a cold chill.

  I know that doesn't sound significant, but as a Wraith, I don't actually feel things like temperature. Not like a physical body does. So if something was cold, that means it was existing on the same Plane I was at that moment. There was something else astral nearby.

  Something close.

  I let my own Wraith-dar seek out the feeling. Sometimes it was just residual spirit energy. Astral essences trapped in the Physical Plane because of a tether. I'd even freed a few of those. This…was something a bit more intense.

  It was stronger. And it was…

  Behind me on the ground.

  I let it pull me toward it and landed easily on my feet. I didn't feel the ground beneath my bunny slippers, but I knew it was there. If anyone saw me, they'd see more of a moving shadow.

  But what I saw standing a hundred yards away from the lights, away from the people, just on the edge of the woods, burned in front of me as bright as a light in the darkness.

  It was him. The Shade of the man I'd been with the night of the rape.

  Barry Stephens.

  "Hi, Zoë," he said, and waved. "I am here to help you."

  Chapter Thirteen

  All these years, and Barry the Shade shows up now?

  No…not a Shade. He wasn't in black-and-white. He was living color. And he was walking closer to me. All my Wraithy-nerves screamed at me to get the hell away from him. I was somehow sure Barry had moved on after he was murdered. I didn't know it for certain, but it made me feel better to think he hadn't suffered any. That he was at peace.

  Barry stopped in front of me and stared. We'd only dated a few months and it'd been several years ago. So I wasn't all that familiar with his mannerisms. Right now, he sort of reminded me of someone.

  "Zoë? Are you all right? Do you not recognize me?"

  I tilted my head to the right and my wings did this sort of curling thing against my back. "Barry?"

  "Barry. Ah. That is the name of this shape. And Barry was the name of the male with you the night you were attacked."

  Bingo. Figured it out right there.

  This was Geist.

  "You ass—hat-and-a-half," I hissed at him. "Why do you look like that?"

  "This seemed to be the best choice in taking a form to work with you. Previously I chose that of Detective Joe Halloran, but since he is a larger presence in your life at this point in time, and the form of Captain Kenneth Cooper was forbidden to me, I chose someone in your memories who seemed less…threatening. And authoritative."

  "Barry was murdered."

  "Yes. I saw that. Rather gruesomely."

  Not knowing before that Geist was basically this supercomputer tied to the Thrones of the Abysmal and Ethereal planes had carved him a niche in my heart when we first met. After finding this out, his odd way of speaking and his insane penchant for logic made a lot of sense.

  But when he h
elped Rhonda cut me out of Dags's memories, he went to the shit list. No. #2.

  I remembered TC threatening me with this walking computer. "Geist…" I held out my hands. "Barry's not acceptable, either. In fact, your presence anywhere near me isn't…acceptable. I want you to leave me the hell alone."

  "But the Phantasm has requested—"

  "I don't give a rat's ass." I couldn't believe I was standing in Grant Park, 10:00 p.m., talking to a planar computer in the shape of a long-dead boyfriend.

  And I had wings.

  These sorts of things just don't happen to normal people, do they?

  "Zoë, I am here to help you solve your present predicament."

  "Predicament?" I lowered my arms. "There are two bodies—"I pointed "—right over there. I think their predicament is much more important."

  "They are dead. Their predicament has been solved."

  Oh boy.

  "Geist, I don't want you around me."

  "The Phantasm has said otherwise."

  "No."

  "Yes."

  "Go away."

  "No."

  "You took Dags away from me."

  "I did not."

  "You helped Rhonda."

  "I did not. Rhonda made the argument that your separation from the Guardian would be best for everyone. He is your Achilles' heel. "

  Something nagged at me in that last statement. It was always pretty easy to spot Geist when he talked. He didn't use contractions, or none that I could remember, and he always seemed less emotionally invested than everyone else. But still…something was wrong with what he'd just said. I just couldn't pinpoint it.

  "Zoë." He took a step toward me, and I took one back. I wasn't repulsed by Geist, and he couldn't hurt me, but the image of Barry was unnerving. At least he hadn't decided to make it Barry with sliced-up neck. "I see that my presence is indeed a hindrance to your emotional stability."

  Oh, now wait a minute. "You're saying you make me emotionally unstable?"

  "Yes."

  "Not you. But that look does."

  "Then this shell should work for the immediate future."

  I scratched my head. Previously when I asked Geist to change his look, he did it without batting an eye. But now he was standing his ground. Wow…was the program actually gaining sentience? Possibly. Before I invaded the Abysmal Throne, albeit temporarily, he'd been little more than a message-delivery service.

  Sort of blew that one all to hell, didn't I?

  I turned away from him. I wanted to get back to Joe. I assumed the Ethereal presence I sensed was Geist so the crime scene and those in it weren't in any immediate danger.

  Abruptly, Geist stood in front of me. "Wait, Zoë."

  Yeah, definitely a little different. Pushy. "What? I told you—I'm not going to work with you."

  "But I have information that there are Powers nearby."

  "There are Powers all over this city. That's kind of the problem."

  "But they have something you would want."

  They have something? I narrowed my eyes at him, and my bunny slippers growled. "They have something? Do they have Dags? Or do they know where Dags is?"

  He shook his head.

  "Is it Daniel? Do they have Daniel?"

  "Daniel Frasier?" Geist looked dubious. "I thought you knew the location of the First Born Inanna."

  "No, and did you always call them by their First Borns?"

  "The First Born is how I identify them." His expression did look a little disappointed. "If you do not know where he is, I believe I can help."

  I waved at him to shush. "Ignore all that. What is the something they have?"

  "It is a woman. A human. And she is in distress."

  Oh, damn. Was it possible my rapist and his gang already had their next victim? I looked back at the crowd of law enforcement. I needed Joe, but he was working that case. I couldn't find Daniel; I had no idea where Jason was, or Manuel. TC had important business.

  Well, I was a Wraith, right? Some kind of Abysmal badass?

  Guess it was time to see if I actually had the ability for badassery. "Geist, show me where they are." I launched into flight and followed him across the park.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Geist led me out of the park and down Boulevard toward Abernathy to a house in an old but nice neighborhood. I made sure I was still incorporeal as I slipped through the front door and stood just inside. Geist appeared beside me, still wearing the Barry-suit.

  The inside of the house did not match the outside. The yard looked trim in the dark, with manicured shrubs, a sidewalk swept clean of dead leaves, and a recently painted exterior. But inside—damn, it looked like an episode of Hoarders.

  Stacks and stacks of papers, boxes, pizzas, half-empty trash bags, and fast-food wrappers all obscured what might have been a nice living room at one time. The yellow walls of the living room glowed in the dim light from the kitchen. I felt a bit skeezy as I phased through the mess toward the light.

  Dirty dishes, pots and pans, more pizza boxes, wing boxes, and empty gallon jugs with something green growing in them littered the kitchen as well.

  I heard voices, and went completely invisible as a guy with a shaved head, dressed in a dirty gray T-shirt and ripped jeans squished barefoot through the food scraps on the tile and opened the refrigerator. From the looks of things inside of it, I was pretty happy I wasn't able to smell.

  When he turned to look to his left, with me behind him, I could see the facial marking.

  A Power.

  "John, I don't see it in here. You sure Chopper didn't eat it?"

  "Well, if he did," came a distant reply, "then she's gonna have to go hungry again."

  "But that'll make three days with no food." The guy closed the fridge.

  "Don't matter. Zach hasn't asked for her. I think he forget we ganked her."

  Zach? Zacharel?

  Ganked?

  Her?

  Who?

  I looked at Geist when he pointed at the floor. Basement? Possibly.

  The owner of other voice appeared in the doorway. Long, thick, greasy hair, and dressed in a similar uniform, but he covered it with an oversized surplus Army jacket. At least he was wearing sneakers in this pigpen. "Why don't we go out for food?"

  "We can't leave her here."

  "She ain't going nowhere. And nobody knows she's here." He nodded to the door. The shaved head one grabbed a jacket—I'd had no idea that mound of food bags on the floor was actually hiding it—and the two headed outside.

  I looked at Geist. "This is convenient."

  He vanished.

  I went incorporeal and floated down through the floor, the wood, the steel (ugh, I hate the cold bite of steel), and found myself in a finished basement. Whomever had owned this house before the Powers took over must have had a grandmother or relative living down here.

  It was a finished bedroom, with beige carpet and soft blue walls. Dresser, door into what looked like a half bath, closet, and regular-sized bed.

  And on the bed was a young woman I didn't recognize immediately. She was slumped over, her wrists handcuffed out to her sides, fastened to the bed's headboard by steel hooks screwed into the wood. Her ankles were held together by a thick zip tie. Dark brown hair covered her face, and as I moved in closer, I saw cloth wrapped around her eyes and mouth.

  A quick look around revealed a knife, which from the look of her arms and legs, these assholes had cut her with. I grabbed it—wondering briefly if I'd leave fingerprints in this shape—and cut the cloth off of her face and the zip tie off her ankles. Cuffs? Um…

  "Here is a key," Geist said in a soft voice.

  I took the key from him and tried it. Opened both sets. And once she was free, she toppled over onto her side. Geist grabbed her before she fell off the bed. When we got her on her back, I studied her face. Geist found a pulse. She was alive, but it looked like she was dehydrated. "She looks really familiar."

  "She should," came a familiar voice behind me.
I freaked out a little and turned, my talons out, my bunny slippers ready for action, and faced—

  Daniel Frasier.

  I didn't know whether to run at him, smack him, scream at him (regular scream, not banshee wail), throw something at him, or wave.

  I opted for dead silence as he came in the room from the door. He wore new clothes. Black sweatshirt, jeans, white sneakers, and an oversized black trench coat. He went straight to the girl on the bed and put a hand on her chest. "She's alive, but she needs medical attention."

  I finally got my shit together and swatted his back.

  He looked down at me. That's when I realized Inanna was in control. As soon as she saw my face, his features softened as Daniel moved to the front. He smiled. "Hey, beautiful."

  "You left me in the park!" I shrieked.

  I really shouldn't have done that.

  He reached out and scooped me—the Wraith-me, with all my prickly parts and wings—into his arms, and gave me the hardest hug he could. "I'm so sorry, Zoë. I had to…. I was getting rid of the bodies when more Powers showed up." He stepped back. "The police had already found you when I returned. I had to get out of there. If they got a good look at my face, there was a chance they would recognize me."

  His reasoning made sense. And if the quick actions of the constables was an indication, getting the hell out of there was a good idea. But why leave me?

  Daniel looked guilty when I asked him that. "Because…I wanted to keep drinking, Zoë. And I couldn't take any more of you. I was—Inanna was—" He swallowed. "We were afraid I wouldn't be able to control myself."

  We stood to the side of the bed, staring at each other. He looked—good. And healthy. I thought about the DVD Mastiff had— "Daniel, did you know you got caught on camera at The Oaks? You went through that wall!"

  He didn't know that. And it was evident in his face. "Oh, shit, I saw the camera but I'd hoped it wasn't actually working. As for going through—your blood did something to me…."

  "No shit. What's bad is Mastiff has a copy of that recording. They want you for these rapes."

 

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