Trey stood. “You want me to go sit with him?” She gave him a grateful smile, but then he glanced back at us. “I mean, unless y’all need to talk to me some more.”
“No, we’re done,” I said. “I know how to get in touch with you if I need to talk to you again.” I handed him one of my cards. “And feel free to call if you think of anything that might be useful.”
He tucked the card into the front pocket of his shirt. “Will do. Thanks.” He moved to Lida and gave her a quick, sweet kiss, then strode to the door and left.
Lida let out a soft sigh that sounded like it was tinged with relief. “Trey is so good with Michael. Like his best friend and big brother all rolled into one.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Sorry about having to take him outside,” she said. “Roger came by earlier and told us about his client, and unfortunately, Michael heard him. He’s so sensitive that he gets really upset whenever he hears bad news. It’s like he doesn’t have the perspective to know that it wasn’t someone he was close to.” Sadness flickered across her face.
“Could Michael ever live on his own?” Ryan queried gently.
“No way,” she said without any hesitation. “And I don’t want him to go to a group home or anything like that either. He’s my brother,” she said, lifting her chin defiantly. “I can take care of him.” She sounded defensive.
“Has anyone suggested you do that?” Ryan asked.
Her defiant stance wilted slightly. “Adam suggested it once. As talented as Michael is, Adam worried that the stress of being in the band would be too much for him, especially with our current schedule. And Uncle Ben agreed with him, though he said Michael wouldn’t need to go to a home and said he’d hire someone to care for Michael at the house.” The frustration returned to her face. “I mean, I know they’re worried about me and think that I’m spreading myself too thin ...” She paused, then rolled her eyes. “Okay, my uncle is worried about me. I think Adam’s only worried that Michael will have a meltdown or something during a concert.” Anger flared in her eyes, but then she took a deep breath and seemed to push it down. “But I could never do that to him. It would kill Michael if he was taken out of the band. He loves it.”
“Follow your gut,” Ryan advised.
Lida gave him a firm nod. “Yeah, I intend to. Screw the rest of them.” She forced a smile onto her face. “Okay, I don’t need to be dumping on y’all. Sorry about that. You need to talk to me some more?”
“Yes, if you have the time and don’t mind,” I said. “Though we mostly came by because we need to speak to Adam.”
She frowned. “Adam’s been upstairs for hours, working, ever since he came back from his meeting with the label. It’s been a crazy day. It took over an hour to get Michael calmed down after Roger told us about Vic.” She stepped behind us and snagged a candy bar off the table. “Sorry, I’m starving. It’s probably a good thing Roger isn’t here. He’d make me do an extra half hour on the bike if he saw me eating this,” she said with a weak smile.
“He’s your trainer?”
“Well, he sets up workouts for me and gets on my ass about my eating, but he’s not officially my trainer or anything.”
“Have you ever used the gym at Vic Kerry’s office?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t even know he had one there.”
This next part was going to be more confrontational.
“This whole thing has generated a lot of publicity for you, hasn’t it?”
I expected her to get indignant, but to my surprise she merely sighed, looking abruptly exhausted. “I know, and I know that you’re wondering if this whole thing was staged. Uncle Ben grilled me hard about it the other day after you left.” She met my eyes. “I swear, if it was set up, I had nothing to do with it.”
“What about Adam?” Ryan asked.
She rubbed her eyes. “He’s awesome. He really is. He knows the business inside and out, and he busts his ass for us.”
I leaned forward. “And do you think he’d be capable of setting something like this attack up?”
Lida shook her head emphatically. “He would never do that.” But I could see a flicker of doubt in her eyes. She seemed about to say more but then Michael came back into the room, closely followed by Trey.
“It’s beginning to rain,” Trey said with an apologetic grimace.
“And I’m hungry,” Michael announced.
Lida gave a soft sigh. “If you need to talk to Adam, his office is upstairs,” she said. “Go through the double doors, take a right at the end of the hall, and his office is at the top of the stairs. I’m sorry, but I need to take Michael home.”
“I understand,” I said. I watched as she returned to Michael and put her arms around him, speaking softly to him before leading him out.
“I hope she makes it big,” Ryan murmured.
I exhaled. “Me too.”
He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “All right, let’s go see what Mr. Taylor has to add to all of this.”
“Let’s squeeze him nice and quick,” I said, stifling a yawn. “I’ve already had an insanely long day and Sunday night wore me out. I haven’t had a chance to catch up on my sleep yet.”
He was silent as we walked to the double doors, but it wasn’t until he stiff-armed through them like a tank that I realized he was upset. In the next instant I realized why. Crap. And what happened Sunday night to wear me out? Or rather, who wore me out. I sighed inwardly. Nice move, Kara.
He strode down the hall, forcing me to nearly run to catch up. Aggravation flared, pushing out the guilt. The summoning was more exhausting than the sex, damn it. So much for him being all mature and shit. But my annoyance vanished as a familiar sensation crawled over me. I reached out and grabbed Ryan’s arm to stop him.
He whirled, nearly snarling at me, but then he saw my face and went still, giving me a more normal questioning look. I stared at him for a heartbeat, not wanting to believe I’d seen the earlier anger, but the resonance abruptly twined around me, fresh and disturbing. I sucked in my breath and looked away from Ryan as I shifted into othersight. I didn’t think that whatever had left it behind was still nearby, but I pulled my gun anyway, relieved to see Ryan following my lead. Together we crept down the hall to the corner.
I took a quick peek, then let out a low curse. At the bottom of the stairs lay Adam Taylor, head twisted at an unnatural angle.
Chapter 19
The angle of Adam Taylor’s neck had me fairly convinced that he was dead, but I still stooped and put my fingers to his throat to check for a pulse, while Ryan remained standing with his gun at the ready. I didn’t think that the golem was still around, but best to play it safe. The body was faintly cool to the touch, which led me to the unscientific conclusion that he’d been lying there for a couple of hours at least.
I straightened and Ryan gave me a questioning look. I stood still for a moment, sensing. Ryan remained quiet, watching and waiting.
“The resonance feels stronger in that direction,” I said softly, indicating the door at the end of the hall.
“That leads outside, to the rear of the building,” he replied in a low voice. We moved to the door and opened it cautiously. A light drizzle fell on an empty parking lot. I stepped outside, but the trail of resonance ended at the edge of the lot, and I couldn’t see any mundane clues such as tire marks or a conveniently dropped wallet.
“Whoever’s controlling the thing must have driven it here,” I said, returning inside and holstering my gun. “I doubt it’s sophisticated enough to drive itself.”
“Does it feel as if the golem was anywhere else in the building?”
I shook my head. “I can’t really explain how it feels ... but it’s almost like a slime trail. I can sense it from a few feet away, and it’s really obvious where the golem has been.” I carefully stepped around Adam’s body, then ascended the stairs. I paused when I reached the top. “It came up here,” I called down to Ryan. Adam’s office door stood open. I peered in and could see
that the chair behind the desk was on its side. I stood silent and still for a dozen more heartbeats, assessing, then returned downstairs.
“As far as I can tell,” I told him, “the golem came in that door, went upstairs, grabbed Adam out of his chair, and tossed him down the stairs. It might have given Adam’s neck an extra twist to be sure he was dead, and then it walked right back out that door, where someone picked it up and took it away.”
Ryan’s gaze raked over the body and the stairs. “This certainly complicates things.”
I crouched again, worrying my lower lip as I took in the feel of the resonance. After a moment Ryan crouched beside me.
“Any luck pinning down what it is?” he asked quietly.
I twitched a shoulder up in a shrug. “I have some theories. But I’m not sure it matters. It doesn’t point to who might be controlling it, or how to stop it.”
He laid a hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Well, then we’ll simply have to resort to over-the-top violence.”
I laughed and gave him a grateful smile for pulling me free of the funk before I could get into it.
He stood and I followed suit. “I’d better call Zack and fill him in,” he said.
“And I need to call my rank.” And how was I going to justify to Crawford that I knew this was connected to Vic Kerry’s murder? I fought back a sigh. Deal with that later. For now, follow procedure.
Fortunately, there was no one else left in the building, which made it easy to secure the scene. Zack arrived about ten minutes later, with Jill pulling up in the crime scene van right behind him.
“You know what I love about working your scenes?” she asked after I filled her in on what I had. “The fact that I do all sorts of work and collect all sorts of evidence, and then I never have to actually process any of it since you then go off and solve the case using your spooooky demon powers.” She wiggled her fingers at me and made an absurd face.
I had to laugh. “That’s so not true, but I will say that I highly doubt that the perp in this one left behind any fingerprints.”
She wrinkled her nose as she readied her camera. “Well, unfortunately I still have to check for prints, since it’ll look pretty bad if I don’t.”
“And it’s always possible that I’m wrong,” I added.
“Well, I’m still not gonna waste my time hunting down matches for fingerprints on AFIS until you tell me to.” She stepped past me and began photographing the scene. I grinned and stayed out of her way.
Crawford showed up as Jill was finishing up her pictures. He peered down at the crumpled body and then looked back up at me. He opened his mouth to say something then closed it again, clearly conflicted. He flicked a glance around, taking in the people present.
Finally he cleared his throat and returned his focus to me. “I take it you have some reason to believe this wasn’t an accident?”
I nodded. Shit. How was I supposed to explain? This one wasn’t as easy as saying a dog had been chasing me. “There are some, er, similarities to the Victor Kerry scene, as well as to the attack on Lida Moran in New Orleans.”
His inner turmoil was painfully obvious. Even Ryan and Zack seemed to be aware of it as they stood silently by, carefully pretending to be paying no attention to our conversation.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. Then he swept his gaze over the agents. “This is some kind of supernatural-type bullshit, isn’t it?”
Ryan gave Crawford a grave nod. “In a way, yes. Our task force often handles cases that fall outside the commonly accepted norm.”
Crawford gave a snort. “ ‘Commonly accepted norm.’ I don’t fucking believe this.” He looked almost relieved, though, as if the fact that Ryan had admitted it helped to prove he hadn’t lost his mind.
“Sarge,” I began, but he held up his hand to stop me.
“Kara. It ... it’s okay.” He still had a pained expression, but he didn’t look miserably conflicted anymore. “So, are you some kind of psychic or witch or something?”
I fought the urge to smile. “Not exactly. I ... um ... have the ability to see arcane power and can shape it for certain purposes.”
He blew out his breath. “Fucking shit, but that explains a lot about you.”
I burst out laughing. He looked at me sharply, then joined in a second later. After a few seconds he regained control of himself and looked over at Jill. “And you’re part of this X-Files crap too?”
She made a rude noise. “Look, just because I hang out with these weird peeps doesn’t mean I’m one of them!”
That seemed to relieve Crawford more than anything. “All right. So, what do you really have here, Kara?”
“I have reason to believe that an inanimate creature controlled by supernatural means was involved in the attack on Lida Moran and in the two murders.”
I could see him visible struggling to accept the otherworldly aspect to all of this. “Okay,” he said slowly, voice perhaps a tiny bit shaky. “What do you do now?”
I spread my hands. “For now, treat it like any other investigation.”
Relief filled his eyes. He knew how to handle “any other investigation.”
“We have three victims,” I continued. “Even though Lida survived going into the river, I’m still counting her as a victim.”
“But how is Vic Kerry connected?” Crawford asked.
“Not sure yet,” I said. “One theory is that it’s possible Roger Peeler was the intended victim of Kerry’s murder, since Roger was in the habit of using the workout equipment in Kerry’s office.” I chewed my lower lip in thought for a few heartbeats.
“That would imply that the band is being targeted,” Crawford said, eyes narrowed. He was in his element now that we were talking about more mundane things.
“Yes, but I also found a copy of three NSF checks from Adam Taylor in Kerry’s desk. And I also found this.” I tugged the paper with the initials out of my notebook and passed it to him. “Roger Peeler confirmed that Kerry loaned him fifteen thousand dollars.” I paused. “Or rather, Kerry loaned it to him, and then was nice enough to invest it for him. Plus, Kerry was a real sweet guy and approached Roger with the offer of the loan.”
Crawford’s expression turned dubious. “Real sweet. You have subpoenas out, I take it?”
“I do for Kerry’s info,” I said, “but I’ll be shocked if I get the return back in less than a week.” I couldn’t help but scowl, even though I respected the privacy issues that delayed the release of information. “However, Roger went down to the bank and gave them permission to give me full access to his accounts. I’m going down to the bank in the morning to pick up copies. I’ll also send out subpoenas for Taylor’s financials.” Ugh. I was going to be drowning in boring paperwork soon.
“Sounds like you have it covered. And with the bad checks there’s a link between Taylor and Kerry,” he said.
“Right, but I still have to determine if that link had anything to do with their deaths. I’d like to get a search warrant for Mr. Taylor’s house.”
“Do it,” he agreed. He looked to Ryan. “Would you mind staying here with me while Kara takes care of that?”
“Not at all,” Ryan replied. “Do you mind if Agent Garner accompanies Kara on the search warrant?”
“Not at all,” Crawford replied.
I turned to leave, then stopped. Crap. I pivoted back and caught Crawford’s eye, then gave him a narrow-eyed shake of my head.
He responded with a perplexed look. I scowled and gave my head a slight jerk in Ryan’s direction, then shook my head again.
Crawford merely looked even more baffled. I rolled my eyes, then marched up to Crawford and took him by the arm to pull him a short distance away from Ryan. “Do not say anything about what happened out at the City Towers building to Ryan,” I said in a low voice. “Please,” I added belatedly.
Crawford made a sour noise. “Go do your damn search warrant.”
I gave him a pleading look. “Sarge ...”
He scowled at me. “I won’t say anything. Now would you please get the hell out of here?”
I smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Sarge!” I jerked my head at a bemused Zack. “C’mon, Surfer Boy,” I said. “We’re being kicked out.”
Ryan turned to Crawford as I walked past. “How long has she been insane?”
“As long as I’ve known her, Agent Kristoff,” Crawford replied with a dramatic sigh.
“I heard that!” I yelled.
The laughter of the two men followed me out.
This was the kind of search warrant that I preferred. Nobody home, no forced entry, and plenty of time to do what we needed to do.
Adam lived on the edge of town, in a bland little subdivision with only about fifty houses in it, all built from what looked to be a wide variety of four different house plans. There were no trees anywhere in the neighborhood, except for some scrawny twigs that had been stuck in the front yard of each house—one per residence. I assumed they were meant to someday grow into trees, but the tallest one I saw was only four feet high. It would be a long time before this subdivision saw anything resembling shade.
Adam’s house was a single-story ranch, with brick on the front and vinyl siding on the back and sides. There were no cars in the cracked driveway, and the only concession to landscaping was a raggedly mown lawn and the aforementioned twig.
We’d snagged Adam’s keys before heading out to get the search warrant, which meant that we didn’t have to break any windows to get in. I drew my gun, then unlocked the door and pushed it open a couple of feet.
“Beaulac Police Department,” I called into the silent house. “We’re making entry on a search warrant.” I was almost positive that Adam lived alone, however that didn’t necessarily mean that the house was unoccupied.
The only response was the quiet hum of the refrigerator.
I flicked on the lights, then Zack and I went through the house with guns drawn to be absolutely sure there was nothing lurking. The interior looked about as exciting as the outside of the house. The living room held a dull beige sectional sofa and a flat screen television. The kitchen had dishes in the sink—remnants from breakfast it looked like—but the rest was generally tidy and neat. The bedroom had an overflowing laundry hamper and an unmade bed, but the carpet looked as if it had been vacuumed within the last day or so. There were no surprises waiting for us—no bodies splayed out on the kitchen floor or monsters leaping out of corners. We returned to the foyer and holstered our guns.
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