The Day of First Sun (Annie Loves Cham Book 1)

by Sheryl Steines

  She groaned. What does he want? Jack Ramsey had come into her life only five days ago, and though the missed call peeked her curiosity, she knew it wouldn’t be good. She hit the button to return the call.

  “Good, Annie, you got my message.” Jack breathed heavily into the phone as if he were running to catch it. Annie sat up and rubbed her eyes.

  “I didn’t listen to it. I just saw you called. What’s up?” she yawned loudly, unashamed to let him know he woke her up.

  “I’m so sorry I woke you, Annie. I didn’t expect to need your help with anything or ever call you again, but I have a case that I think might be yours.”

  Now she was fully awake. Her brain wandered through several scenarios as she tried to guess the type of case Jack might call about. She hoped it was just his imagination.

  “Okay. I have to admit I’m surprised by your call,” she said cautiously. “Especially so soon. What makes you think this is ours?”

  “What I saw. The magic, the vampire, it makes me think some of my unsolved cases might be… It doesn’t matter. What matters is that this case can’t go unsolved. And it’s weird. I might be crazy because of the magic—I’m sure I’d be looking at this differently otherwise—but I’m not insane, I swear. I’m calling you.”

  A delicious smell wafted to Annie through a crack of the open door, and she uncurled herself from the blankets. Now I’m hungry.

  Forcing her attention to Jack and not the rumbling in her stomach, Annie asked, “Okay. So what makes it weird? Well, weird enough to call me?” She could hear Cham mixing something in a metal bowl.

  “You know who Princess Amelie of Amborix is, right?” His voice raised a few octaves, as if he had just been kicked in a precarious area.

  Even as a witch, Annie knew who Princess Amelie Maxillian was. A princess to the small European country of Amborix, the girl lived her life on the covers of tabloid magazines, followed constantly by the paparazzi, whether going to the gym, hair salon, or movie premiers. She was always scrutinized and criticized.

  “Uh, yeah. You’d have to live under a rock to not know Princess Amelie. Isn’t she here for a publicity trip of some kind?”

  “She was found dead in her hotel room at six this morning.”

  “Oh crap. Jack, what happened?” Annie slipped from the room to the kitchen where Cham was setting the table for a breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon. Seeing him standing there and performing such a mundane task seemed so normal.

  “We don’t know. The hotel doors were locked, and there were no signs of attempted forced entry. There appears to be some signs of a struggle in the bedroom—an overturned chair, a smashed picture. But Amelie has no defensive wounds, no bruises, no cuts, no track marks. Her clothes are untouched. Hair and makeup still intact. Because of her status, the medical examiner did a preliminary autopsy and can’t find anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Does she have bodyguards? An entourage of any kind?”

  “Who is it?” Cham whispered. Annie held up an index finger.

  “Two bodyguards were positioned at the sliding door to the patio. Another two were stationed outside the suite. Amelie arrived back at the room with her boyfriend and three bodyguards at…” Paper rustled through the phone. “They got back at 2 a.m. No one came by the rest of the night. Her handler entered at six to wake her and found the princess dead and her boyfriend missing.”

  “So if there are two entrances and no one got in and the medical examiner saw nothing yet to explain death—yeah, that’s a little strange, especially with such a big entourage. What about the boyfriend? No one saw him leave?” Annie grabbed a plate that Cham prepared and took a bite in between her words.

  “Two teams, and no one saw him leave. The room’s on the tenth floor of the hotel. So he didn’t jump out the window.”

  “Okay. That’s really weird for a nonmagical case.”

  “I… is there a way… is there a way to tell if magic killed her?”

  Annie refrained from laughing and sucked in a deep breath. “Yeah. I need access to the body. We’ll be able to tell right away. And if there is magic present, I’m gonna have to see the room.”

  “And we’ll be able to tell who did it? Not like the vampire?”

  Witches and wizards create distinct magical energy similar to DNA and if captured, can be matched to the person casting the spell. “Yeah, we can match the spells.”

  “Okay. That’s good. The medical examiner’s done all that he can. I’ll get you into the lab around midnight.” He paused maybe to remind himself what happened last time they visited the morgue, or maybe Annie did. “You know, before I met you this would be considered an inside job. Now…”

  Annie thought of something else, something that concerned her more than the princess’s murder.

  “The potential for exposure is huge for us. I mean, between the FBI and your victim, if we take over the case, you have to hide us.”

  “How do you normally solve cases involving nonmagical people?”

  Bucky Hart, Graham Lightner, and a whole host of others worked their butts off to keep them safe, but most cases were nothing of this magnitude. Annie thought the vampire attack scene was bad; this she couldn’t even imagine. She pushed her plate away.

  “Help from others. But this is global. We’ve never worked a case with this much potential for exposure.” She could hear Jack typing. What are you thinking, Mr. Ramsey?

  “I feel for you. And I get that this is an extremely difficult situation. But if it’s magical…”

  If a magical killed the princess with magic, they walked free and undetected without Wizard Guard intervention. As a police officer, Annie couldn’t let that go, not even with the risk of exposure. Cham sat beside her with a quizzical look on his face.

  With a heavy sigh she said, “If you can get us to the body without anyone knowing we’re involved, we’ll determine if magic killed her.”

  “I’ll get you in,” Jack said with some doubt. He hung up. Annie exhaled and put away her phone.

  “So what was that about?” Cham stabbed a large chunk of egg and took a bite.

  “Jack Ramsey. I think we may have a problem.”

  Annie explained the death of the princess. Upon hearing about it, Cham’s fork slipped from his fingers and clanked against the plate.

  “Can you trust him?”

  She played with her food, piling it at the center before piercing some of the scrambled egg and tasting it. “The eggs are good.”

  “You didn’t answer me.”

  “I don’t know if we can. I’m not sure this is anything but Jack. He knows stuff now, and it might make him see things that aren’t really there. It can’t hurt to check it out, but honestly, it doesn’t make sense.”

  “No marks, no forced entry. We can tell easy enough. When do we see the body?”

  “Midnight.”

  *

  The shower sprayed water hot enough to scald Annie’s skin. Steam rose and filled the small bathroom covering the mirror, the walls and door. She wiped down the mirror and stared at her neck, still bruised yet healing. She touched the marks.

  That was too close.

  Her hair cascaded around her, and Cham’s scent wafted to her, still lingering in her hair. A brief smile and a last sniff of the spicy warm smell, and she stepped into the stream of water. It ran down her firm, muscular body, pounding against her as if it could wash away the outside world.

  The bubbles grew as she washed the mass of curls on her head. As she stood under the water, it took several minutes for her hair to run clean of shampoo, leaving her time to consider the possible new case and whether to trust Jack.

  Annie let her long, curly hair hang wet while standing in front her closet staring at the clothes she never once second guessed until she remembered the well-coiffed journalist and the FBI agents at the scene and her own used boots. Maybe it was to take her mind off of Princess Amelie or maybe…

  She slipped on her jeans and this time chose a more
professional blouse, cut close to her body. For the first time, it felt natural. Grabbing a blazer and some almost-unused flats, she stared at herself in the mirror.

  Maybe I can pull off the girl thing.

  After a little makeup and hair styling, Annie was still restless. She opted for a new distraction and turned on her computer, letting it buzz to life. An initial search for Princess Amelie’s name resulted in hundreds of thousands of pages about the princess, her fashion, love life, partying ways, the ultimatum given by her parents to shape up and act like a princess.

  Annie cringed as she scrolled. The princess’s public persona was a caring, lovely young woman who visited hospitals, orphanages and soup kitchens. Though the princess’s heart appeared to be in the right place, her expression couldn’t be faked. Her smile appeared too wide and unnatural. Annie wondered if Amelie had really changed.

  Amelie’s death was splashed across every major news and gossip sites. Conjectures, suppositions, reflections on her life on the possible suspects, no real news to lead authorities to Amelie’s killer—Annie was amazed by the sheer volume of information that came out in such a short time period.

  “Princess Amelie Dead”

  Princess Amelie Maxillian of Amborix was found dead in her hotel suite early Sunday morning. At this time, authorities have no suspects in custody, and cause of death is yet to be determined. While in Chicago, the last stop of her extensive U.S. tour, the princess visited with children at Comer Children’s Hospital, explored several museums, and enjoyed a Chicago Cubs game at Wrigley Field.

  Grateful for her time in America, Princess Amelie enjoyed all aspects of American life, including several bars and lavish parties she attended while crisscrossing the country.

  Though her past was of great concern to the royal family, the American public has embraced the princess. She will be sorely missed.

  After perusing several more articles about the same subject matter, Annie finally discovered something more useful, something that could explain her murder.

  “Mending Relations”

  Pleasant relations between the United States and Amborix existed until three years ago, when the body of a female hiker was discovered in the mountains of Amborix. Leo Smith, an American, and Eva Baron, the daughter of the Amborix Ambassador to the United States, shared several classes at the University of Amborix and had begun dating soon after. Several classmates reported them missing when they failed to return from a weekend trip through the southern mountain range. Smith was discovered to be alive after three days. Dehydrated and tired, he wept as he gave the location of his girlfriend, who was dead from an alleged fall.

  The investigation lasted less than a day and ended with the arrest of Leo Smith for the murder of Eva Baron. Believing the case consisted of only circumstantial evidence and lacked any physical proof, the American Ambassador stationed in Amborix, Rodney Toole, became outraged by the arrest and went public with his opinions regarding the case. As the trial proceeded, Ambassador Toole angered the government of Amborix, especially the Royal Family and Ambassador Baron. Several heated exchanges were witnessed between the former friends, and Ambassador Toole was finally asked to leave Amborix. Leo Smith was convicted of Eva’s murder and remains in prison until his sentence is served. Though the governments of Amborix and the United States refused to become involved, lingering tension exists between the two countries. Since the incident, both Ambassadors returned to their home countries.

  Are these lingering tensions the reason for Amelie’s murder? Annie doubted a relationship between the two incidents existed, but it was the closest they had to a motive, which would mean a nonmagical death. But a weirder scenario led her to a feeling of dread that enveloped her. A girl who was beloved by all around the globe was dead, and the eyes of the world waited for answers. How do we solve this and remain in the shadows?

  Familiar shuffling entered the house and came through the kitchen.

  “Hey,” Cham said.

  “Hi, Cham.”

  Annie made room for him on the couch. As he sat beside her, his thigh grazed hers. It was not an unfamiliar sensation, but at this moment she was aware of how it felt next to her—strong and somewhat perfect. Her heart skipped a beat. If Cham felt the same way, he didn’t show it. He hid behind the pile of articles she printed.

  “Did you do something different? Your hair, or something?” he asked and looked at her. Annie felt her cheeks warm.

  “Ah… just trying something new I think.”

  “It looks… refreshed.” He cleared his throat and reached her computer, momentarily embarrassed.

  “There’s not much here,” he said after a pause. He continued scrolling through the article Annie had been perusing when he arrived.

  “Nope. Her Royal Highness sounds like a reformed brat, though I’m wondering if her death is tied to that hiker case.”

  Cham took a closer look reading the details. “Payback for the guy in jail. Maybe. That’s a pretty high-profile way to get revenge. Though that would make it nonmagical.”

  He shuffled through the other articles, the gossip pages, and the pictures. “If she was really that horrible, it could be anyone. Though if the boyfriend’s missing…” Cham sighed.

  “We’ll know when we get to the body.” Annie shut down her computer and turned on the television to pass the time until it was time to head to the morgue.

  Chapter 6

  The night Jack Ramsey discovered that vampires and magic existed, he slept fitfully. In his dreams, chaotic scenes of death and blood flashed; he pictured himself being attacked by the vampires, their fangs extended as they punctured his skin like a bite through a crisp apple. Waking up drenched with sweat, he felt his heart pounding inside his chest and nausea rising in his stomach.

  When awake, Jack saw vampires everywhere and found himself suspicious of those around him. If it wasn’t vampires, his eyes tricked him into seeing items moving of their own volition. The rational side of his brain knew his imagination was getting the better of him, but his heart felt as if the events were real.

  As Jack battled his new reality, life remained on its fast track. His to-do list remained long, and he was constantly adding more items. Now, as he waited to hear from Annie again, he pulled his list from his breast pocket and crossed off another chore with a heavy sigh.

  Jack’s stomach churned. He couldn’t stop thinking of the hotel room Annie was about to investigate—the hotel room that currently had no guard.

  That room better stay safe. Once Annie’s team finished, he’d reinstate a guard and hope no one asked him why.

  The FBI special agent prepared a file for Annie and her team, consisting of the crime scene photos, evidence lists, autopsy reports and his notes, which included several hunches that might be something or not. Jack recalled the hiker case of several years ago. It was possible that Amelie’s death was retribution, but bearing in mind the fact that no physical evidence existed at the scene and that the medical examiner could find nothing on the body, Jack’s thoughts returned every time to magic.

  And how do I explain that?

  He had spent a long day in contact with his FBI superiors, the president of the United States, and the royal family of Amborix, all of whom demanded answers now. The intense scrutiny and the prying eyes of the entire world had built up, so Jack had panicked and called her.

  Maybe what I need is a psychiatrist.

  Arriving prior to their appointed time, Jack lay crime scene photos on the first examination table, arranging them in two rows. He then reorganized the pictures, adding in Amelie in life, at parties, with friends and family. He shuffled them again, unsure of what they really needed. Anxious, Jack turned toward the cooler at the back of the room. His heart sped up as he recalled his night with Annie and the vampires. He took a deep breath before returning to the story that unfolded before him.

  The young, beautiful, and wealthy victim had lived a life that others only imagined and dreamed of—but that ended in an inconclusive
cause of death, a lack of clues, and no direction in which to investigate except for a missing boyfriend.

  Always the boyfriend.

  The autopsy file lay on the table, still devoid of real information. It lacked the lab results—the pieces of evidence that could possibly fill in the blanks. Though this time Jack knew they would offer nothing.

  Annie, do I really want you to fill in the blanks?

  Magic might explain what happened to Amelie, but that left Jack with a problem: how to explain to the rest of the world how the princess died.

  Maybe the vampire unit takes care of that.

  Jack worked quickly, laying out the physical evidence collected at the crime scene: lingerie, high-heeled slippers, bottles, tubes, and her purse. No biologicals existed.

  And that’s why I called Annie, he reminded himself while staring at the lack of evidence.

  But allowing the Wizard Guard access to the morgue, to the body, to the evidence, could cost him his job. This is the right thing, he tried to convince himself, but the knot in his stomach grew tighter and heavier.

  The industrial-sized clock by the door slowly ticked away the time, and anxiety overwhelmed Jack more than it had in any other case he ever investigated. His nerves only heightened when the door clicked open and Annie and her team entered the morgue.

  Annie brought her partner, a younger man introduced as Cham Chamsky. A tall man with curly hair and freckles, Cham strode confidently into the unfamiliar morgue, reassuring Jack that Annie’s team would be up for the task. Seconds later, however, Jack second-guessed calling her; the second team made him uneasy immediately.

  John Gibbs and Spencer Ray at first glance seemed oddly mismatched. Gibbs appeared an unconventional police officer. He resisted eye contact and stood along the back wall, not particularly interested in engaging with the evidence or with them. His tight leather pants and matching vest made him look more like a motorcycle gang member than an officer of the law.