city of dragons 07 - fire and flood

by Val St. Crowe

  “I’m not going to say anything,” Adam suddenly volunteered.

  Lachlan raised his eyebrows. I could see that he probably wanted to point out that Adam was actually the only one saying anything, but Lachlan didn’t want to stop the boy from letting out any useful information.

  “I’m not stupid,” said Adam. “I know that it’s really dumb to say anything after you’ve been arrested. So, I’m not going to say anything. You’re wasting your time.”

  Lachlan just nodded.

  Adam ran his finger around the edge of the can, nodding to himself. “Not a word.”

  Lachlan shot me a glance, smiling a little.

  I couldn’t help but smile back. It was quite possible that Adam was going to do all our work for us. I had to admit that I found this twist in the facts about Hallie’s murder surprising. It didn’t change the bald facts of the case, because Tim was still the person who’d done it, but it did change things somewhat.

  Adam had a part in it now, and it made Tim just a tad bit less responsible. I wasn’t saying that Adam was to blame for Hallie’s death. It wasn’t as strong as that. But he’d played a part.

  I could almost identify with Tim. I knew that I’d done things that I wasn’t proud of in an attempt to try to impress my friends. I’d even had friends that had pushed me to break rules and to take risks I wouldn’t have otherwise.

  But I couldn’t really identify with him, because I was positive I would never have murdered a little girl. I didn’t have any siblings of my own, of course, but I did have cousins, and I had been really angry with them before, livid even. And still, there was no part of me that had ever wanted them dead.

  Tim was still guilty. He was still responsible.

  Adam tapped the top of the soda can with his fingernail. “Aren’t you going to ask me questions?”

  Lachlan lounged in his chair. He and I were on the opposite side of the table from Adam. “Wouldn’t be much point if you’re not going to say anything,” said Lachlan.

  “No,” said Adam. “There wouldn’t.”

  Lachlan shrugged.

  “So, then, you’re just going to sit here? We’re both just going to sit here?”

  “I guess so,” said Lachlan.

  “I want a lawyer,” said Adam. “I said that I wanted one.”

  “And I understand they filed an application for you for a public defender,” said Lachlan. “That’ll take some time to go through.”

  “Yeah, I filled that thing out,” said Adam. “So, uh, how much time will that take?”

  “Hard to say exactly,” said Lachlan. “A while.”

  “Like hours? Days? Weeks?”

  Lachlan shrugged. “I couldn’t be certain about that.”

  Adam glared at him. He popped open the soda can and guzzled a long, long swig from it. Then he slammed it back down on the table.

  It was quiet.

  Lachlan made a show of getting comfortable in his chair. He yawned. He stretched. He settled in.

  Adam fidgeted with the tab on the soda can, moving it back and forth, back and forth. Until it snapped off with an audible pop. Adam was so startled, he dropped it. It fell into the mouth of the soda can.

  Lachlan yawned again.

  Adam shut his eyes. He opened them. He took another drink of his soda. He set the can back down and it made a clinking noise against the table.

  More silence.

  “I thought you’d be asking me questions about Faith, that’s all,” said Adam. “I thought you’d be wanting to know why I had her phone.”

  “Well, that’s pretty obvious,” said Lachlan.

  “No, it’s not,” said Adam.

  “No?” Lachlan lifted his sleeve and picked at a piece of lint on it. “That’s not actually the case I’m working on. You know that. I’m here about Tim. What happened to Tim?”

  Adam sat up straighter. “Oh, yeah?”

  Lachlan nodded. “Yeah.”

  “So, you going to ask me questions about that?”

  “You going to answer them?”

  “Maybe I would,” said Adam. “If I could be assured that I could get something in return.”

  “Ah,” said Lachlan.

  “Can we enter into an agreement?” said Adam. “If I give you information about Tim, I can get in less trouble for what happened with Faith?”

  “What did happen with Faith?”

  “Uh uh,” said Adam. “You’re not going to catch me admitting to that. Look, how about this? I go down for Tim’s murder and then you drop the charges on Faith. What do you care which murder it is? Murder’s murder.”

  “You killed Tim?” said Lachlan. “How’d you do it?”

  “What do you mean, how did I do it?” said Adam. “I went in there and killed him.”

  “How’d you get into the jail?”

  “I didn’t,” said Adam. “I used magic. It was like you said. You had it all figured out. Whatever you said before.”

  Lachlan cocked his head to one side. “Did you kill Tim?”

  I was beginning to wonder the same thing. Why wasn’t Adam forthcoming with the details? Why was he so eager to agree with Lachlan’s version of the events?

  Adam took another drink of his soda. There was a long pause before he spoke again. “I used magic to get into the jail. I compelled the guards to let me in the gate. I knew where his cell was, so I went there and then I killed him.”

  “How did you kill him?”

  “I just told you.”

  “What method did you use to kill him?”

  “What do you mean by that? The method that made him stop living.” Adam’s nostrils flared.

  “Did you shoot him? Stab him?”

  “No,” said Adam. “I used magic to pick up a heavy object in the cell and bash him over the head with it.”

  Lachlan got up from the table. “Well, we’re done here.”

  “What?” said Adam. “That’s not how he died?”

  “Nope,” said Lachlan.

  Adam glowered at his soda. “Well, I had to try. I figured a jury would be more sympathetic to someone who killed a kid killer than someone who killed a teenage girl.”

  Lachlan leaned over, getting eye-level with the drake. “What did you do with her body?”

  Adam picked up his soda to take a drink, but it was empty. He crushed it with one hand. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

  “I’m thinking you buried it,” said Lachlan. “Probably somewhere no one would think to look for it, because you couldn’t have that turning up and ruining everything. I mean, you did such a good job planning everything else out, I can’t imagine you screwed that up.”

  Adam licked his lips.

  “You really made it look as though she was missing.” Lachlan got closer. “Leaving the car, sending the texts, all of that? It was good. Convincing your friends to commit murder the same night so that yours would be covered up, that was pretty smart too. Did you think they’d both do it? Both Tim and Carlos? Or did you just figure if one of them went all the way, that would be enough?”

  “What are you talking about?” said Adam.

  “I’m talking about my daughter, you asshole,” Lachlan growled. “When you were convincing Tim to snuff out her life so that you could snuff out Faith’s did you think of her as anything other than collateral damage?”

  Adam flinched.

  The door to the interrogation room opened and Steve was there. He raised his eyebrows at Lachlan.

  Lachlan sighed. “Damn it.”

  Steve motioned with his head for us to leave.

  Lachlan hesitated, looking at Adam.

  Adam raised his chin. His voice was quiet. “If Tim hadn’t been such an idiot, he would have gotten away clean. I didn’t set my friends up to take the heat off me, you douchebag. We had contingency plans to cover it all up. Tim was supposed to report the crime, claim that someone had broken in and that he struggled with the guy, tried to take the gun. But after Tim pulled the trigger, he was so shell shoc
ked, he couldn’t lie. And Carlos? Well, that idiot was just a big, hairy pussy, wasn’t he? In the end, I’m the only one who got it right.” He pounded his chest. “I’m the one who committed the perfect murder. I’m the one who covered it up and kept it a secret. They couldn’t handle it, but I could.”

  Lachlan smiled at Adam. “Thank you very much for that. Just needed to hear you say it. I promised Faith’s parents we’d get them some closure.”

  “Out,” said Steve, shaking his head at Lachlan.

  Lachlan headed for the door. I went behind him.

  Steve closed it, shutting Adam up in the interrogation room alone.

  We were now all out in the hallway.

  Steve pointed at Lachlan. “You got personal. You said you weren’t going to do that.”

  “It all worked out okay, right?” said Lachlan.

  “Yeah, who knows if his lawyer will be able to use that to his advantage,” said Steve.

  “Just letting me in there was a risk,” said Lachlan. “Come on, he did it. The hair’s going to come back a match with her DNA. We already know it’s her phone. He’s screwed either way. A confession only cinches it.”

  But Steve was stopped from giving another answer, because the hallway was filled with people who were coming out after watching through the two-way mirror, and they were all coming out to shake hands with Lachlan. They kept saying things like how amazing it was to see the Lachlan Flint in action and how he made it look easy.

  * * *

  The congratulating went on for quite some time. It seemed that practically everyone in the station had to come by and shake Lachlan’s hand. Everyone was so impressed that Lachlan had shown up to solve one murder, but had uncovered a completely different one in the process and had solved that one too. And that wasn’t even counting the murders at the prison that Bradley had committed. They said he was a wonder and that they missed him and they wished he’d come home.

  It went on and on.

  Finally, it seemed like it was all over, and it was just Lachlan and me heading out the door of the station.

  “Wow,” I said. “After all that, how do you stand being unappreciated in Sea City?” I was exaggerating a bit, of course. While no one was quite so laudatory about Lachlan’s ability to close cases back home, he was still respected.

  Lachlan chuckled. “It, uh, it wasn’t like this when I worked here. The stuff with the Bryant clan, that got to be a story, I think. People were real impressed that I drove the whole drug ring out of the state singlehandedly.”

  “Well,” I said, smiling at him, “that is impressive.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “Kind of sexy too.”

  He laughed a little. “You teasing me, Miss Caspian?”

  A grin split across my face. “You haven’t called me Miss Caspian in a long time.”

  He grabbed me and pulled me close. “Soon I won’t be able to. That is, if you’re still planning on becoming Mrs. Flint.”

  I kissed him. “You know it.”

  He pulled back. “It feels like a celebration because all those people back there were shaking my hand, but we’re forgetting the fact that we haven’t solved Tim’s murder.”

  I let my arms fall to my sides. “No, I guess we haven’t. And not only that, we don’t have any suspects.”

  Lachlan made a face.

  It was as if all the air had gone out of our happy bubbles or something. We just stood there, right outside the station, both deflated.

  And then Zach came around the corner of the building. He smiled at us, waving. “Hey, there. I was wondering when I was going to run into the two of you down here.”

  “Hi,” I said, waving back. “I forgot you moonlighted as a police officer.”

  He stopped beside us, laughing. “I don’t know if I moonlight as an officer or if I moonlight as a prison guard, but whatever the case, I’ve got two jobs.” He offered me his hand. “I hear congratulations are in order. You got a confession.”

  I shook hands with him. “Oh, it was all Lachlan, not me.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true.” He let go of my hand and offered to shake with Lachlan.

  Lachlan shook with him.

  Zach raised his hand and scratched his forehead, and his sleeve rode up, exposing a nasty scar on his arm, the skin bubbled up and twisted.

  “Wow,” I said, pointing. “That looks awful. What happened there?”

  Zach yanked his sleeve down quickly. “Oh, it was stupid of me. I read the package directions wrong on some ravioli. Heated it up for far too long, and when I took it out of the microwave—bam. Hurt like a bitch. Blistered up real bad.”

  “Ouch,” I said.

  Zach shook his head. “I’m a dumbass.” Then he brightened. “Anyway, good on you, catching a murderer.”

  “Well,” said Lachlan, “it wasn’t the right murderer. We still don’t know who killed Tim.”

  “Yeah, too bad,” said Zach. “I guess you were hoping this kid would be the guy, huh?”

  “No joy,” said Lachlan.

  Zach nodded. “Uh, well, I got to get inside if I don’t want to be late. I guess I’ll see you two when you come by the prison again.”

  “Right,” said Lachlan. “After we completely rethink the case.”

  * * *

  “Ugh.” Lachlan gripped the steering wheel as he drove. “Okay, maybe we missed something. We didn’t eliminate Wells, we just deprioritized him. Maybe the idea that he killed Tim because he wouldn’t pay up for drugs isn’t so far out there.”

  “Okay,” I said, “so to make that stick, we’d need… what? Like someone who’d testify they were making the payments for Tim? Or evidence that Wells smuggled in a magical talisman?”

  “Well, remember we were thinking that maybe he manipulated the guards,” said Lachlan. “So, that could be it. Maybe he has one of the guards in his pocket, and that guard let him get into one of the cells.”

  “So, we go and interview guards? How are we going to get someone to roll over on Wells if it means ruining their life as well?”

  “I don’t know, maybe we talk to Zach,” said Lachlan.

  “We asked him, and he said he had no idea about the guards who were in Wells’s pocket.”

  Lachlan sighed. “Right, right.”

  “That scar on his arm looked really bad. I’m surprised we haven’t seen it before. It’s almost like he’s been hiding it. He’s always wearing long sleeves, and it’s ninety degrees outside.”

  “Well, his uniform has long sleeves,” said Lachlan. “Of course, the guard at the door has one with short sleeves.” He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “You think he’s lying about how he got the scar?”

  “Why would he lie?” I said.

  “That scar obviously came from hot liquid,” said Lachlan. “What else could it be?”

  I chewed on my lip. “I don’t know.”

  We were quiet.

  When we got home, we told Vivica to take the night to herself. We said we’d take care of bathing the boys and putting them to bed, as long as Jackson would tolerate that. Jackson would sometimes take a bottle of breast milk before bed instead of nursing.

  Luckily for Vivica, tonight was one of those nights. She actually had decided to take the rental car and go out in town to mingle. She said she’d try to meet some fun people and that she wouldn’t get too drunk. I hoped she had a blast. She deserved a night to herself.

  Lachlan took over the boys’ baths while I stood in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher full of dishes. My mind kept returning to that scar. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was about it that was bothering me, but it meant something. I was pretty sure of it. I just wasn’t sure what.

  The boys went down easy, and then Lachlan and I sat outside the house on the back deck sipping cold beers, the baby monitor crackling on the the table next to us.

  “So, I was thinking about that scar,” said Lachlan, surveying his beer bottle.

  “Me too,” I said.


  “There was that guy who died in the jail from hot water. The Jonah Poole guy. The one in the shower.”

  “Right,” I said, “but how could that relate to Zach?”

  “It’s hot liquid,” said Lachlan.

  “But didn’t Debra say that Poole was alone in the shower when it happened? We speculated it was magic.”

  Lachlan furrowed his brow. “Shit. You remember how Zach described Poole to us when he told us about the incident? He said the guy’s skin was peeling off. How’d he see that? Didn’t Debra say no one saw the body except another guard and Steve?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “What?” said Zach, giving us a funny look. We were back in his office at the prison the next day. He was sitting with his legs propped up on his desk, which was just as covered in paper as it always was. “I saw the body when they were taking it out of the shower.”

  “Really?” said Lachlan. “Standard procedure is to zip bodies up in opaque bags and take them out of the scene.”

  “Well, it was a small space, and that’s not how they did it,” said Zach. “They took him out on a stretcher and then they bagged him. I saw him then.”

  “Anyone else I can talk to that can confirm that?” said Lachlan.

  Zach took his legs off the desk and sat up straight. “Why are you asking me questions like this?”

  Lachlan sat down opposite Zach’s desk.

  I sat down too. “So, funny thing, when we were talking to Debra, she said that Tim was really preoccupied with Jonah Poole and with what happened to him. She said he talked about it as if he’d seen it.”

  “Well, he didn’t,” said Zach.

  “Yeah, and you shouldn’t have seen it either,” said Lachlan. “We’ve got two people who shouldn’t have seen Jonah Poole’s body who seem to have seen it. You and him. And then you ‘discovered’ Tim’s body weeks later.”

  “I don’t like your tone,” said Zach. “What are you implying?”