Enchanted Execution

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Enchanted Execution Page 13

by Ann Denton


  My body brings me back to reality. I’m trembling with the cold.

  “O-k-a-ay,” my teeth chatter. I peel off a sticker.

  “I’ve lost my heart to Luke.” The sticker disappears. But it doesn’t reappear in his hands.

  “Maybe be more specific?” he suggests. “There are a lotta Lukes out there.”

  I peel off another. “Do we have to do this in the water?” My hands shake from the cold. It’s seeping into my bones.

  “It’s motivation and a distraction at the same time. Ignore the cold. Try to focus. The sooner you get it, the sooner you get out.”

  I try to ignore the water. The seaweed tangling on my calves. I stare at Luke, and then the little heart sticker on my fingertip. “I’ve lost my heart to Luke Hawkins.”

  Again, the sticker just disappears.

  “Dang it!” I pull off a third. I’m frustrated. And worried. I need to learn this stupid shit so Flowers will get off my case. I also want to get out of this water. I want to snuggle Luke. I want to run my hand over those washboard abs.

  “I’ve lost my heart to Luke Hawkin’s abs.” Whoops. My cheeks flame. That just sorta slipped out.

  Luke laughs as the sticker disappears. Then he gives a giant yell, punches the air, and splashes me.

  “Ahhhh!! Why did you do that?”

  He jump-walks through the water to stand right in front of me. “Look!” He points at his six-pack and I see a tiny red heart sticker.

  “I did it!”

  “You did it!” He sweeps me up into a bear hug and swings me around.

  “Can we get out of the water now?”

  “Prove it wasn’t a fluke first.” Luke sets me down and backs up. He makes me ‘prove it’ twelve more times. Twelve successful times. Thirty tries total. My fingers are numb. My right leg burns. I don’t think I have toes anymore. And I learn that frustration and annoyance greatly help improve my powers. Fricking great. As if they weren’t lame enough. I need to be somewhat annoyed or freaked or something to use them.

  Once Luke’s satisfied, he sweeps me into his arms and rescues me from the subzero sea. He gently sets me on the picnic blanket. He reaches into the basket and grabs a palm-sized purple envelope. A special-order spell package.

  “What’s that?” I peek.

  He opens it, and immediately we’re enveloped in heat and light. It spreads like a bubble over us. Like we’re out tanning mid-day in the summer. It leeches into my bones and chases the cold away.

  “Is that safe for you?”

  “Yup. Not real sun.”

  “Won’t people notice?” I ask out of necessity, but I’m already arching my back like a cat.

  “It’s shielded, don’t worry,” Luke lays back on the blanket. His torso is dotted with little hearts. The sight makes me smile.

  I lean back on my elbows beside him, enjoying the heat, the relaxation. The company. “Thanks,” my voice comes out shy and breathy.

  “No. Thank you. For giving me your heart.” Luke turns his face to mine with a little smile, half-joking, half-not.

  Our eyes lock. And my stomach drops. My mouth dries out. I lick my lips and his eyes follow the movement. I want him. But I’m scared. I mean, what he just said … that’s scary right? Because, like, we barely know each other. And there are way more things he needs to know about me. And, and—

  He leans toward me. I lean toward him.

  And my mouth blows it. “You know, you had a chance to pick panty stickers or something. Then you would have heard me say I lost my panties to you a zillion times.”

  He laughs and I feel it on my neck. I want to feel more.

  “Nah,” he breathes. “Then you wouldn’t be able to tell Mrs. Snow all about today.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “So, the hearts were for her benefit?”

  “Nope.” His lips feather over my jaw. So close to my lips. Closer. Closer. He stops at the corner of my mouth. “They say if you repeat something often enough, you start to believe it.”

  He doesn’t kiss me. He leaves me, panting, breathless, and lays back down.

  Swoon.

  If I didn’t lose my heart to Luke just now, I’ve come very, very close.

  Chapter 19

  I have trouble sleeping. I just keep reliving that study date with Luke. When my alarm goes off early at three p.m., I’m already awake. I sit up, energized. Excited for the night.

  I get to the Academy an hour early and head straight to Flower’s office.

  I picture his annoying face and say, “I lost my yoga block in Flower’s office.” A block zooms over my head to land right on his desk.

  Bam Mutha Fucka!

  Once every yoga block in the building is in there, I start adding yoga balls, training mats, kickboxing dummies.

  My right leg burns as I lose the third dummy. I must have done something to hurt it last night. I shake it out and move another. Ignore the pain, Ly. Focus. Like Luke taught me.

  I can’t freaking wait to see the look on Flower’s face. I’ve almost got the room full when I hear a noise behind me.

  I whirl around.

  “So, you figured it out.” Flowers casually sips his coffee.

  “What? That’s it? That’s all you have to say? Look at that!” I gesture behind me and turn to look at the lopsided pile. “Look at my magnificence!”

  “You need to have that cleaned out before class starts.” He turns away without batting an eye, without a shrug, without … anything.

  It’s so deflating.

  I hate him. I start ‘losing’ things back to their original positions, hoping one or two ‘accidentally’ hit him on their trip home.

  Of course, I’m not that lucky.

  Flowers comes in when I’m nearly done. He dials a number and puts it on speaker phone. I turn to leave but Flowers waves at me to stay.

  “Flores, what’s up?” Bennett’s driving in. I can hear his blinker.

  “McDonnelly’s autopsy is in.”

  “Already?”

  “Shot.”

  “With Dormio?”

  “Nope. Just a regular nine-millimeter.”

  “Hmm …”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

  “Sorry,” I interject. “There must be some kind of secret pro-investigator undertone to this convo that I’m missing.”

  “Morning, Fox,” Bennett greets me.

  “The M.O.” Flowers leans against his desk.

  Ben expands, “Why have such a complicated murder on the front end and then switch to regular old bullets?”

  I get my geek face on. “Maybe intended victim matters? A shifter versus a human? One’s harder to kill.”

  “Maybe, but the first indicates a stronger affinity for potion-making. The lab said the Dormio was mixed strong, and Seena hasn’t found a trail back to any known gang members yet. So, chances are it was a homemade batch.” Flowers rips open a Magic Muscle bar and takes a bite. He doesn’t offer any to me. Not that I’d want that nasty thing, but … how rude!

  “Where was the cameraman found?” I’m behind. I missed half the newscast between stuffing my face and getting it painted.

  “Body was found in a park near his office. Jackie Hanna found him,” Ben replies.

  “And what the heck was she doing at the park?”

  “Said she was meeting the owner there to ‘chat.’” Flowers uses air quotes.

  “Oh yeah?”

  Flowers shrugs. “He confirmed it. Said they were meeting about a promotion.”

  “She’s so trashy.”

  “She’s a reporter,” Ben says. As if the two words go hand-in-hand.

  “So, what now? Two murders. Two different guns. Are we looking at a serial killer who’s trying to throw us off the scent? Or two killers?”

  “Two killers?”

  “Two killers?” Flowers repeats Ben’s question. He cocks his head and stares at me. “Fox, you might have a brain in there after all.”

  Is it weird that I take that as a compliment
?

  Seena walks in just as I’m about to tell Flowers how amazing said brain is.

  “Becca’s awake and talking!”

  Shit. My guilt meter goes off. I really have to go to the hospital at the end of the night.

  “She have any ideas on the case?” Of course, Flowers doesn’t ask how she’s feeling. That would be irrelevant.

  “No, but I did scan McDonnelly’s laptop. Looked like someone cleaned it out pretty good. Deleted a lot of files permanently. But they weren’t thorough enough.” Seena does that push-the-glasses-up-the-nose thing. I think it’s his tell for ‘I have big news.’ Damn. I do not want him raining on my parade when I just got a backhanded compliment. Stupid pony.

  “Mason had an underground business a couple of years back. Guess what it was?”

  “Stripping!” I squeal.

  Seena rolls his eyes, “He wrote exam papers for college students. Couple hundred gold a pop. Guess which City Councilor used his services?”

  “So we have our Dormio expert,” Bennett’s voice is garbled by static. “—Just a minute—parking—right there.”

  I’m blown away. “So McDonnelly wasn’t just some witness. He was a killer.” That nerdy guy holding the camera? I barely gave him a second glance.

  “Whoa! We need a lot more proof than a paper he wrote years ago,” Flowers scoffs.

  “There was no footage from that camera on the balcony.”

  Seena jumps on board with me. “He could have used that camera as an excuse to sneak the gun up there.”

  I snap my fingers. “Yes!”

  “Still speculation,” Flowers hedges.

  “His mom hates Gor. Accused him on TV of killing her son.”

  Flowers pinches the bridge of his nose. “Didn’t we talk about hearsay, Fox?”

  I ignore him. I have a feeling I’m on the right track.

  “What if … Bell wasn’t the target? He was standing right next to Gor. Stepped up and shook his hand. What if McDonnelly tried to kill Gor and missed?”

  Bennett walks in the room. “If he did that and Gor found out, he’d be a dead man.”

  “Exactly!”

  Flowers rolls his eyes.

  I hold up my hands, “We should go question Gor. That’s all I’m saying.”

  Bennett jerks his chin at Flowers. “Get someone to cover Academy exercises this evening. If Gor gets squirrelly, we’ll bring him in for further questioning.”

  Flowers clenches his jaw but starts texting.

  “Um, sir?” I’m hesitant. I really want to go, but I don’t know where I stand with Bennett right now. “Should Seena and I …?”

  “Go get in the car before the other recruits see.”

  I try not to skip down the hall.

  As Seena and I pile into the backseat like eager five-year-olds about to go for ice cream, he leans over and says, “I made the connection between McDonnelly and Dormio. I found the killer. I win.”

  “Yeah, well, your killer might have killed the wrong person. And my killer might have killed your killer. So, who found the better killer?”

  “You haven’t proven your killer.”

  “Yet. If I do, it’s a draw.”

  Seena turns to face forward. His face is way too smug. “Good luck, Loser.”

  I’m gonna prove this case so hard he’s gonna feel it like a punch to the face.

  Gor’s Pawnshop is stuffed into a strip mall. A sign that looks like it got dragged back from Vegas uses a couple classy neon arrows to alert customers it’s here. If that weren’t enough, the ‘Face You Can Trust’ billboards are behind the shop. In case you get confused. Which trolls can do. So I guess it makes sense.

  Inside the store is crowded. Not with people. With stacks of crap. There’s hardly enough room for us to walk single file through the twisted aisles.

  “Spread out. Find him. Let him know we need to verify a few things from his witness statement. Nobody start questioning ‘til I’m there,” Bennett states.

  I don’t know why he looks at me when he says this. I don’t want to question a killer alone!

  We all go different directions.

  I go past a glass jewelry display case that’s spinning on its own. Necklaces hang suspended in the air around naked lightbulbs. They look like tacky chandeliers. A locket zooms down to hover in front of me and doesn’t fly off until I bat it away. Then a pair of flapping poison rings do the same. Talk about pushy sales tactics. Why did those bird-women rave about this place?

  I head over to the used book section. The spell books are all chained to the shelves, so at least they won’t try to take my eye out.

  I see a hooked nose just around the corner of a bookshelf. I hurry forward, but someone barrels into me from the side. Seena beats me to Gor.

  “Tres Lunas Investigation,” he flashes his ID. “Sir, we’d like to follow up with you about a few statements you made.”

  Gor doesn’t respond. Doesn’t blink. He looks … blank.

  “Sir?” Seena tries again.

  I watch for a few seconds. Gor doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. I reach forward and gently push on him with my finger. He bobs backward and snaps back up, wobbling.

  “Zahré mar!” Seena’s jaw drops.

  “I’ve heard about these. Balloon dummies of yourself. Didn’t know they looked so life-like.” I circle the fake Gor. Damn. No wonder Tabby used these decoys in class. It looks real. I push it again, just to watch it bob.

  “Stop that! It’s creepy.”

  “I want one.”

  “Why?”

  “I dunno. Freak out the neighbors. Scare school children. Who cares? The spell work is amazing.”

  “So … why would he have decoys in his shop?”

  “Maybe he’s made a break for it,” I pitch my tone breathy and dramatic.

  I hear a throat clear behind me. I whirl around. And Gor the goblin is standing right in front of me. My heart stops.

  “Give you a discount if you buy one and use it on school children. So long as I get a video,” his beady eyes gleam. My pulse races. “I didn’t make a break for it. But I’m guessing you lazy badges finally caught up.”

  “Caught up with what?” I can’t resist asking even as Seena radios Bennett and Flowers. Damn. Lyon. Control your mouth. No questions.

  “That whoever did this might have been after me. That they still might be after me.” Gor nods toward the rocking dummy. “I have three of those set up in here. With a serial killer on the loose, can’t be too careful.” His tone is way too light for me to believe he’s actually scared.

  Me, on the other hand? Currently trying to hide my quaking knees.

  “Councilor,” Bennett reaches us. “We’d like to talk to you further about the Bell case.”

  Gor nods, hooked nose nearly touching his neck. “Follow me to my office.”

  He leads us through the maze of the store. Past racks of half-invisible clothing that look like they’ve seen better days. Past a set of swords that swing dangerously close to our heads. He puts his hand on the only blank stretch of wall in the entire store. It slides open, revealing a hidden office behind it, complete with a crackling fireplace and red carpet. I feel like I’m walking into the devil’s lair.

  I exchange looks with Bennett and he positions himself between me and Gor. So his chivalry’s not dead at least.

  The door seals us in. I clench my hands and teeth, trying to hold back a scream. What the hell? I glance at Seena. He hasn’t wet himself, but he looks at least as terrified as I feel.

  “Sir, I’m going to spray a horror neutralizer. Looks like my newbies aren’t quite used to your … magnetic personality.” Bennett reaches for a canister on his hip. It looks like pepper spray, or striped polecat spray (strong enough to stop three lion shifters in their tracks). He unleashes the spray over us and I squeeze my eyes shut. It smells … like old lady perfume. Powder and potpourri. At least it doesn’t stink.

  Seena snorts next to me. Well, maybe not so pleasant for horse nos
es.

  But we can breathe again. The suffocating terror is gone.

  “Good?”

  We nod at Bennett and he turns back to Gor. “Sir, can you think of anyone who’d want to kill you?”

  “I’ll print you the list.” Gor turns to a computer that looks like it might be an original Apple. Tan box. Black screen. Green letters.

  Seena’s eyes bulge worse than they did a moment ago. “You don’t seriously use … that?”

  Gor chuckles. “I specialize in unique objects. And discretion. Not technology.”

  Seena bites his lip and I can tell he’s holding back.

  Gor’s machine hums like an insect. We wait.

  My eyes naturally slide to Bennett and I find him looking at me. I give him a small smile. We’re here, following my gut, but I’m not sure where to go next. How can I prove Gor killed that guy? I don’t want to let him down.

  “Oh, I have to load more paper. One second,” Gor goes to a box in the corner and pulls out dot matrix paper (that kind from the nineties that’s edged in holes). He feeds it into the printer. And one page slowly eeks out.

  “Excuse me,” Seena bolts from the office. I don’t think he could bear another second of techno-torture.

  I step closer to Bennett. “Can I ask a question or two?” I whisper.

  He gives a tiny nod.

  “Sir?” My voice is a little squeaky. “How did you know Mason McDonelly and his mother?”

  “I dated her for four years. Too bad about her son. Though I have to say, he’s in a more peaceful place now.”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “When you look like I do, you make some allowances when you date. But Patricia, she can nag like no other. Borderline harassment. Since I broke off our engagement, she’s been here five times, going on about this and that.”

  I nod. Trying to look sympathetic when all I can think is—she said yes? WHAT? But that is not what I should be thinking.

  “What kind of things was she mad about?”

  “Thought I took the toaster oven. Then her engagement ring. Then just to be mad, I guess.”

  “What about her son? Did you two get along?”

  “He was a closed off, shifty kid. Don’t blame him with his mom. Hid that girl he was dating. Hid the projects he tinkered with. Kinda just sat there with his TV tray like a lump on a log.”

 

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