“As if he was worried that something could happen to him?”
“Oh God.” Debra put her fingers to her mouth. “You think that Poole man was murdered too? After all, wasn’t Tim’s death supposed to look as though he’d overdosed on drugs or something? If he hadn’t struggled, hadn’t had those fibers from the pillow on him, we’d never have known someone hurt him.”
“We don’t know anything yet,” said Lachlan, “but they seem like similar sort of murders. We think someone’s using magic in the prison.”
Debra’s eyes widened. “Magic? I never even considered that.”
“Most people around here don’t, I’m afraid,” said Lachlan. “It’s a good thing you called us in. That’s what we do. We specialize in crimes involving magic.”
Debra gave us both a shaky smile. “Well, I’m glad I did something right.” She laughed a little. “Can you tell Steve that, because he’s still really pissed at me.” She shook her head.
Lachlan spread his hands. “You know, if he’ll speak to me—”
“I wasn’t serious,” she said. She licked her lips.
“So,” said Lachlan, “anyone who might have wanted to hurt Tim?”
“Um… I don’t know. No one specific. He never told me about anyone in the jail that he was worried about, but he was kept pretty isolated a lot of the time. That was for his safety, they said, but a fat lot of good that did.” Her tone turned bitter for a second. “One thing that I never could get a straight answer out of him about was why he kept talking about how he had stupid friends in high school.”
Lachlan furrowed his brow. “What’s this? He harped on that?”
“When I wanted to know about why he shot Hallie, he said that he was a stupid kid and that he had stupid friends,” she said. “And I maybe pushed on that. I wanted to know what his friends had to do with anything. He got cagey after that. Said that they just didn’t understand what life meant. That they didn’t know what it was to take a life. But it was more than that, and I knew it. I tried to get him to explain. Which friends? What had they said? The more I asked the less he wanted to talk about it. His voice started to get that whine to it that it would get when he didn’t want us to ask about his homework. You remember that?”
Lachlan nodded, a ghost of a smile teasing his lips. “I do remember.”
“And so then I started asking about different kids,” she said. “Listing the few friends that he had.”
“Well, there weren’t a lot,” said Lachlan. “There was, um, that one kid… the really polite kid. Neither of us liked him. What was his name?”
“Adam Day,” she said, nodding.
“Yeah, Adam,” said Lachlan. “He hung out with that Adam kid and another kid named Carlos.”
“And when I brought Adam up, Tim clammed up entirely. He terminated the phone call, and the next time I tried to bring it up, he shut me down before I could finish my sentence.”
“Huh,” said Lachlan, looking thoughtful.
I spoke up. “Um, I don’t get it. Why was it that you didn’t like the really polite kid?”
“Oh,” said Debra, grinning. “It was the way he was polite. It was sort of fake.”
“Over the top,” said Lachlan. “He was really pouring it on, you know?”
“You got the impression that the kid was trying to hide something,” said Debra.
“But you think Adam might have tried to hurt Tim?” said Lachlan.
“I never trusted him,” said Debra. “And if his friends factored into what he did in some way, well, then… maybe Adam helped him plan, or helped him get the gun, or… I don’t know, maybe he egged Tim on. Maybe Adam has a violent streak.”
“Could be worth looking into,” said Lachlan. “Thanks.”
* * *
“I don’t know how I breathe fire,” I said. Lachlan and I were standing outside his dad’s house, facing the lake, so we couldn’t do much damage. The sky was blue, and the air was blisteringly hot. “Sometimes it does happen when I’m angry, but I don’t have to be angry to do it.”
“Well,” said Lachlan, “it’s only happened when I was angry, so maybe I should get angry now to try to make it happen.”
“No,” I said. “You shouldn’t have to be angry.” Honestly, I didn’t like the idea of Lachlan’s powers coming from a dark place. Mostly because I was worried about that ritual he’d done. What kind of dark magic had he messed with? What had it done to him? I fretted over the way he’d yelled at his father. I still couldn’t get him to explain to me why he was so angry with the man. What had his father done?
“Okay, then,” he said. “Give me some kind of instruction that’s helpful.”
I screwed up my face in thought. I was hell at this. When I tried to teach Felicity how to use magic, I’d done a terrible job. Basically, magic was innate within me, and I used it instinctively. So, I didn’t really understand the steps that I took to do magic. It happened. “Well, I sort of gather it all up inside me. It usually feels like it’s in my belly or my lungs. I feel a sort of heavy feeling—a fullness. And then I release it.”
Lachlan considered. “Kind of like releasing magic?”
“Exactly like magic,” I said.
“Well, how do you distinguish the magic from the fire?” he said.
“The fire is… hotter,” I said.
He laughed. But he turned to face the lake and squared his shoulders. He drew in a deep breath, and I could tell he was concentrating.
I waited, worried that what would come out of his mouth would just be a whoosh of air, nothing more, and that Lachlan would indeed have to descend to the depths of anger to breathe fire.
He parted his lips.
I tensed.
Fire poured out of his mouth. It was bright cherry red, red like blood, redder than fire has any right to be. When it hit the water, the entire lake started bubbling and steaming.
Lachlan stopped the flames. “Whoa,” he said.
“Well, you did that easily,” I said.
“Is it supposed to be that hot?” he said.
I chewed on my lip. “I guess it did start boiling the lake pretty quick. But you also breathed a lot of fire.”
“I think the fire I’m breathing is hotter than yours,” said Lachlan. “It might be really useful against the Green King. Look, I can boil water quick, make it evaporate. Maybe that would hurt the Green King or make it harder for him in some way.”
“Makes sense,” I said. “It would dissipate the water.”
Lachlan stuck his hands in his pockets, smiling to himself.
“You look pretty satisfied with yourself.”
“Well, I gotta admit it feels good,” he said. “I feel like I can protect Wyatt, protect both of you. I mean, I breathe fire, and I have an army of pet dragons.” He gestured, and suddenly, the dragons all flew overhead together, streaks of red and blue and green scales glinting in the sunlight as they went past.
I couldn’t help but gasp. The sight of the dragons was stunning, I had to admit it.
“After all, the Green King could strike again at any moment,” said Lachlan.
It was true, I realized. After what he’d done before, we couldn’t really expect him to have disappeared. If he hadn’t struck again, it was because he was biding his time. And no matter how powerful Lachlan was, we weren’t ready for the Green King and his court.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Look, if we knew how Wells was smuggling the drugs into the jail, we would have stopped him,” said Zach, scratching the back of his head. We were in Zach’s office. He was sitting behind his desk, which was covered in stacks of papers. We were sitting in front of him.
“Right, okay, got that,” said Lachlan. “Still, you must have some kind of idea how he’s doing it.”
“Whatever Wells does is a big secret,” said Zach, “but we think that he probably pays off other prisoners and their families to do the smuggling in for him. So, he picks an inmate who’s got family, people who will be coming in to visi
t him often. That way, it’s not suspicious for someone from the outside to be visiting all the time. And he gets people on the outside to get the drugs to the inmate’s family. When they’re there during the visit, the drugs are handed off, probably in balloons, which the inmate swallows. And that’s how the drugs get in. Once the inmate gets the balloons, er, back, he hands them off to Wells to distribute the drugs.”
“Wow,” I said, “the inmate’s family is complicit in all this?”
“Got to be,” said Zach. “Unless he’s getting the stuff in another way, which—to be honest—is possible. But we know he’s done it this way at least a few times, because we’ve caught the inmate who swallowed the balloons. Once one burst inside the guy, and he overdosed. Nearly died. Once we saw the hand-off between a girlfriend and an inmate. Anyway, both times, the guys fell on their swords and claimed the drugs were for personal use. Wouldn’t roll over on Wells for anything, not even commuted sentences or early parole. They were not interested in making deals.”
“Which tells us,” said Lachlan, “that Wells is paying them a hell of a lot of money, and that they’re sure he’ll retaliate badly if they cross him.”
“Definitely,” said Zach. “Most of these guys have families. They want to provide for those families. Wells lets them do it. They’re not going to turn on him.”
Lachlan turned to look at me. “Would it be possible to put a talisman in a balloon and swallow it?”
“Possible,” I said. “But unlikely. I mean, you know what most of them look like. If you’ve got a dragon claw talisman, or a tooth talisman, it would be dangerous to swallow it. A balloon wouldn’t be much protection from a sharp tip.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” said Lachlan.
“Maybe if the talismans are made with scales,” I said. “I’ve even seen ones that contain powdered bones inside a little glass pendant or something like that. Those kinds of talismans might be swallowable.”
Lachlan thought about this. “Yeah, that could work. I guess we’ve got to assume that he’s doing something like that if he is smuggling in talismans.”
“But maybe he only had one smuggled in,” I said. “I mean, I don’t think he’d want everyone in the prison to have a talisman, would he? He’d want to be the only one with the power.”
“Well, that begs the question, though,” said Lachlan, “if he’s got all that power, why not just compel the guards to let him out?”
“Even if he could, he might not want out,” said Zach. “Being inside the prison drives the price of the drugs sky high. Triple what it might be on the street. He’s the only game in town. He’s got a monopoly. So, maybe being in jail is more lucrative than being out. Maybe he doesn’t want to leave. At least not until he’s made the cash he wants to make.”
“I can buy that,” said Lachlan. “So, can we see his cell?”
* * *
The cell block was set up in a square, with four cell-lined walls on each side, and bolted down metal chairs and tables littering the center. Inmates sat at the tables, playing cards, talking, or watching the TV hanging above their heads.
The walls were two tiered. There were five cells on the bottom, each with a thick, metal door containing one small window. There were five identical cells on top of those cells. We entered through an outer door. We were on the second level.
Wells hurried up from the lower area when he saw us going into his cell. When he got there, he stood in the doorway, blocking our way out. He didn’t say anything, just watched us.
“What do you think?” said Lachlan. “Could magic reach from here to Tim’s cell?”
I shook my head. “I think it’s too far. He’d need to be closer.”
“So, he’d have to get out of his cell, then,” said Lachlan.
“He’d need to get out of his cell block,” I said. “But I think he could probably do it from the outer door where we came in.”
Lachlan tapped his chin. He turned to Zach. “How many guards on this place at night?”
“Two in the control room,” said Zach. “On the hour, one goes out and does a round, walking around the block, making sure everything’s quiet.”
Lachlan pivoted and pointed at Wells. “So, that was your window, then. You waited until one guard was patrolling, and then you used your talisman to get the cell door open. Then you could take the guards individually, compel both of them to forget they saw you.”
Wells folded his arms over his chest. “What are you even talking about, man?”
“Where do you keep your talisman?” said Lachlan.
“My what?” said Wells.
“The magical talisman you had smuggled into this prison.”
“You got to be joking with me.” Wells laughed. “I don’t know how to do magic.”
“No?” said Lachlan. “Well, we’ll see about that.”
* * *
“Rachel,” said the woman behind the desk. She was the jail receptionist. “Rachel Lawson. Are you Lachlan Flint?”
“I am,” said Lachlan. “This is my associate, Penny Caspian.”
“I’ve heard about you,” said Rachel. She had long, purple nails. “Lots of things about you, not all of it good.”
“Well, I’m afraid I haven’t heard anything about you,” said Lachlan, giving me a sideways look.
I was taken aback as well. The nerve of people. Why did she think it was cool to say something like that to Lachlan’s face?
“You wouldn’t,” she said. “I’m boring, unlike you. Did you really go undercover with a vampire gang?”
“I did,” said Lachlan.
“Did you really get turned into a vampire just so you could be believable undercover?”
“No,” said Lachlan. “No, the vampire thing was an accident.”
“An accident?” said Rachel. “How do you accidentally become a vampire?”
“It’s a long story,” said Lachlan.
She leaned forward expectantly.
“I drank a soft drink with dragon blood in it and then got shot,” he said. Then he considered. “All right, not so long after all.”
“Why did you put dragon blood in a soft drink?” she said.
“I didn’t,” said Lachlan. “Someone else did. It wasn’t my drink.”
“But why did they do it?”
“Listen, Ms. Lawson, we actually came by to ask you a few questions.”
“Oh, sure,” she said. She smoothed her shirt down. “Go ahead, then.”
“We’re curious about guests for the inmates. They check in here with you before they go in to visit?”
“That’s right,” she said. “Do you really think that some of the inmates in the prison have magical talismans that they’re using on the guards?”
“No,” said Lachlan, “we only think that one inmate does, and that he’s using it to kill other inmates.”
“Oh,” she said. “Well, who do you think that it—”
“Ms. Lawson,” he said in a firm voice.
“Sorry,” she said.
“Are there records kept about which visitor comes to see which inmate?” said Lachlan.
“Oh, yeah,” she replied. “That’s really important. We keep all those electronically. See, they check in with me, and I log them in. I have to make sure that they’re on the list of the inmate they want to see. All of the inmates have a list of approved guests. The guests are approved both by the inmate and by the prison. If you aren’t on the list, you can’t visit.”
“Well, can you look at the list of visitors for Tim Abbott?” said Lachlan.
“You think someone who visited killed him?”
Lachlan just sighed.
“How would they have done that?” said Rachel. “It was the middle of the night when it happened. They couldn’t have gotten into the jail then. I’m not checking people in during the night, you know.”
“Yes, we know,” said Lachlan. “You have that list up?”
“Sorry,” said Rachel again, and typed on her computer, a burst of ta
ps. “Okay, got it.”
“Great,” said Lachlan. “Is Adam Day on the approved list?”
“He is.”
“Did Adam Day ever visit Tim?”
“Uh… doesn’t look like it,” said Rachel. She looked up at us. “But I’ll be honest with you two. I started working here about a month ago after they fired the last girl who used to work this desk. She apparently was being really lax about logging in visitors, and the records for the whole time she was working are really spotty. So, I guess it’s possible this Adam guy showed up, and it didn’t get logged. Do you think he killed Tim? Why did he do it?”
Lachlan huffed out some air. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Lawson.” He started away from the front desk.
“Wait,” Rachel called after him. “Can’t you tell me anything?”
* * *
After our chat with Rachel, we left the prison. Lachlan and I got into the rental car.
“Well,” he said, “we could go home or we could try to be productive this afternoon. We could try to set up a meeting with Adam Day.”
“How would we do that?” I said.
“Oh, I found a phone number for him on his Facebook,” said Lachlan. “He’s apparently a stupid kid about not keeping shit like that private. I also looked up Tim’s old friend Carlos, but the only thing I could find on him was a restaurant where he works.”
“Do we need to talk to Carlos too?” I said.
“We should start with Adam,” said Lachlan.
“Well,” I said, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to call him. But I do sort of wonder if there isn’t more we should be doing about the Green King.”
Lachlan gave me a look. “Like what?”
“We need to prepare, right? He’s going to strike again soon, and even with your super hot fire, we’re no match for him.”
He massaged the bridge of his nose. “How would we prepare?”
“I don’t know exactly,” I said. “That would be the first step. Figure out how to prepare.”
He let out a snort. “Are you serious about that?”
I glared at him. “What’s up with you?” Oh, God, the blood dragon powers were changing him. They were making him into an ass.
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