Wanting me to notice them?
Creed’s dismal tone interrupted my thoughts. “You know as well as I do. She drowned like all the others…miles from any water.” He stood abruptly. Frustration quickened his breath. “I don’t get it. There are designated running paths all over the damn city. Why would anyone run alongside an old steel factory after dark? This trail should have been shut down a long time ago. It hasn’t been safe for years.”
It was once, I thought, remembering a time when there was no factory. “It’s not so bad. I run it a couple of times a week.”
“You run here? In the dark?”
Grimacing at his harsh tone, I stood. “I have, once or twice. It’s quiet, out-of-the-way.”
As we moved back from the body, his concern came out as anger. “What’s wrong with the goddamn gym?”
“Sal’s doesn’t have treadmills.”
“Sal’s? Sal’s Gym? That old rat hole?” Clearly he knew the place. “That’s seriously old school. Why would you go there?”
“I’ve known Sal for years. He’s a good man, a good trainer. And I like it there. It’s straightforward and simple. I don’t have a lot that’s simple in my life.”
An unexpected glimmer of compassion leapt into Creed’s blue eyes.
I was about to shut it down with something appropriately smart-ass, when his phone went crazy. Three text messages came in one after the other, followed by a call. As Creed reached into his jacket pocket, he threw me an apologetic, “Excuse me,” and stepped away.
I sat my bag down and glanced around, looking for eyes. At the moment, none were on me. Their inattention wouldn’t last, but I didn’t need much time. I knew who was responsible. I knew cause of death. What I was looking for was a clue to grasp their motive. It was the only way to get ahead of them.
I pulled the gloves from my bag. Direct physical contact worked best to initiate a death-glimpse, but there were so many spotlights trained on my position. I was going to have to make do.
With one more glance around, I put a gloved hand on the charred end of the woman’s severed torso, and closed my eyes.
I stood, transparent, on the side of the trail, past the tunnel, with the wan streetlight humming above my head. Dirt and concrete both were dark from the recent rain. Damp must overrode the skunk-smell wafting down from the overpass. The woman jogging toward me noticed it as well. She crinkled her nose at the odor and ran faster.
The shoe lace was untied on one of her pale pink sneakers. Nearing the tunnel, she stumbled on the lace. Adrenaline already high, I felt her panic kick in and push it higher—then pain as she hit the pavement and tumbled to a rolling stop. Winded, she sat up and brushed the debris from her legs. As she moved to tie her shoe, the woman’s eyes locked on the tunnel in front of her. Inside, embraced by the darkness, was the faint outline of something she couldn’t comprehend.
On four legs, with eyes the shimmering blue of a glacier in the sun, fire edged the wings that graced its back. Spreading hands and feet to accentuate its claws, tail lifted and curled, back arched; forming the shadow of a small dragon.
Recovering her wits, the woman screamed. Shifting as she ran, the lyrriken who caught up to the jogger was far different than her shadow. Petite, and naked, with strands of blue hair hanging over her thin face, her unlikely appearance gave the woman pause. She faltered, and a clawed hand grabbed onto her blonde mane. As she struggled, unprepared for the strength of a lyrriken, her scalp tore. The victim screamed, kicking and punching.
I looked around for the male. I imagined him lurking like he had in the stairwell; watching his companion, letting her play. But if he was here, he wasn’t visible.
A sudden invasion of panic ripped my attention back to the jogger. Water filled her throat as quickly as her terror flooded my mind. The ghost of her trauma sprouted from her body, puddling black and oily on the ground.
Neither of us could breathe.
A strange pressure descended on my arm. Something jolted me—
And the images evaporated with a rush of black.
Torn prematurely from the vision, I was suddenly standing with Creed’s hand latched tightly around my arm. He tugged, pulling me without explanation through the tunnel.
I stumbled alongside him. “What the hell are you doing?”
“That’s exactly what I was going to ask you.”
The eyes I’d been worried about before all snapped to me, as Creed pulled me with him out the far side of the tunnel. I could have broken free. But whatever had pissed the man off, challenging him in front of so many spectators would only make it worse. Finesse, I told myself with a deep breath. He couldn’t have seen anything but me with my hands on the body.
This has to be something else.
We passed Evans and the female officer, and Creed’s demeanor had them both backing up. The woman looked uncomfortable and averted her eyes. Evans gave me a lingering worried stare as Creed ushered me briskly out past the reach of the lights and off the paved trail. More importantly, out of earshot.
At the edge of the trees, he let go. He took off his glasses, tucked them in his jacket pocket, and stared at me; arms crossed, eyes penetrating. It was dark, but the shadows only accentuated his anger as Creed demanded with equal amounts of threat and accusation, “Where were you Saturday night?”
Heartbeat rising, I matched his dark tone. “Is this a friendly request, or should I have a lawyer present?”
“That depends on your answer.”
“I was kidding. What the hell has gotten into you?”
“I knew there was more to it. So I asked for a copy of the security feed.”
“The feed from where?”
Phone in his hand, Creed turned it to face me. A black and white picture filled the screen. It was a still shot of an elderly woman leaving a building. Her body was enveloped by flame. Holding the door open for her was a much younger woman in running pants with a leather messenger bag slung across her chest, and red hair draped over her shoulders. Her features were partially obscured by the glare, but not enough.
Shit, I thought. Fucking technology.
“Go ahead.” Creed pushed the phone closer to my face. “Tell me that isn’t you.”
I was tempted, but I couldn’t see a scenario where denying it would end well.
Cornered, I let out a breath. “What do you want me to say?”
“The truth,” he replied, teeth grinding.
“I went for a walk. I opened a door for an old woman. She turned to toast in front of my eyes.”
“And then you what…walked away?”
Caught off guard and still out of sorts from my vision of the jogger’s trauma, I shook my head. “No, I—”
“Your name wasn’t on any of the witness statements. And don’t pretend that was a mistake. Because when I mentioned the ‘gas leak’ theory yesterday you didn’t even blink. You have training,” he said with meaning. “Police training. Fire training. You were first on the scene. Even if you had nothing to do with it—”
“I didn’t.”
“You left injured people all over that sidewalk like they didn’t matter, like their suffering didn’t affect you.”
“Trust me. It did.”
“Trust you? I was having trouble finding a reason to do that before this. Now…” The disappointment in his eyes said I’d lost more than a measure of credibility with the man. It was going to make finishing my job even more difficult. “Why did you leave?”
Before I could formulate an excuse, he barked out another question.
“It wasn’t a gas leak, was it? You saw who did this.”
“I don’t know what I saw.”
“You spotted someone acting suspicious and you followed them. Just like at the hospital. You followed a suspect without backup—twice. You broke procedure twice. You put yourself and the public in danger and both times you got nothing.”
I swallowed my pride and told him the truth. “I lost her. I didn’t know if she was connected to the case. I still
don’t,” I backpedaled, lying again in my need to throw him off. “There was something…I don’t know. Something off about her.”
“The video shows you going into that apartment building after the fire. I’ve requested footage of their interior cameras. Before I look at it, is there anything else you want to tell me?”
“I followed her out the back. I stayed on her for a while, but she was too far ahead. By the time I realized I’d lost her, I was nowhere near the scene. I heard the sirens. I knew help was on the way. Going back didn’t seem necessary.”
Clenching his fists, Creed struggled to hold in his anger. “You were a witness.”
“I didn’t see her do anything.”
“Then why did you follow her?”
“It was just…”
“Instinct?” I didn’t reply, and he shook his head. “What did she look like? Is she the woman from the hospital?”
“She was wearing a jacket with a hood. I didn’t see a face. But…maybe.”
“Same build? Same height?”
I nodded. I had no choice.
“Was anyone with her?”
“No. But even if it was her, we have nothing to link our suspects to that fire.”
“Yeah, we do. And we might have had it sooner if you’d come forward.”
I waited, but he didn’t elaborate. “Are you going to tell me what it is, Detective, or would you rather keep lecturing me?”
He glared a moment. “The bodies on the street were incinerated at the same exact temperature as the Chandler family. It was more widespread, but whatever weapon she used, it seared through just the same. This is them,” he said with confidence. “Are you sure the woman you followed was alone?”
“If her accomplice was there, I didn’t see him.”
“Either way, their tally is seventeen now—that we know of. But, maybe, it would have stopped at sixteen. Maybe that woman,” he gestured back at the tunnel, “would still be alive if you’d just fucking told me you were there.”
“The paper said gas leak. I thought I was wrong. I thought I overreacted and she ran because some crazy woman was chasing her.”
He said nothing, only studied me in the dim light, with a degree of passion and threat that got my heart pumping. Adrenaline coursed as my body prepared for an attack my mind knew wasn’t coming. Still, the hostility was more than I’d expected. How tautly he held his body; face, eyes, muscles. Yet, he looked more desperate than scary as he posed another question. “Why didn’t you meet with the sketch artist I sent to your apartment?”
“I was asleep. I didn’t hear the door.”
“Some might say you were avoiding ID-ing our stairwell couple.”
“Then ‘some’ would be wrong.”
“Obstruction of justice is not a joke, Miss Nite.”
“Are you saying I’m a part of this? That I threw myself down those hospital stairs? That I helped kill Ella and her family? If you think I burned that little girl’s body in half, that I killed that boy the night before his birthday while his mother watched…” Hands clenched at my sides, I could almost feel the scales pushing against my skin, wanting out, wanting to strike, to burn. “You’re right. You are a lousy fucking partner.” I turned to go.
“Wait.” A slight breeze brought me the smell of his day-old aftershave as Creed stepped closer. “I don’t think you’re a killer. But if you don’t rein this shit in now, your lack of concern for the legal process is going to destroy this investigation. And the people that murdered that family—murdered those kids—are going to walk.”
“I won’t let that happen.”
“Because you’re going to play by the rules? Or because you’re going to kill them first?”
Definitely the latter, I thought. But I didn’t answer fast enough.
“Should I just arrest you now, then,” he said, reading into my moment of silence. “Or wait until after you take the law into your own hands?”
I tried to calm him. “Alex, I—”
“You think I don’t want to do it myself? Everyone here, everyone who was in that house, wants to kill these monsters. But it’s not up to them. It’s not up to me. I’m not a judge or a jury. And I’m certainly not an executioner. Yet, for some reason, I get the impression that’s exactly what you think you are.”
I swallowed, shocked by the accuracy of his words.
“You want our suspects all to yourself,” he said. “I’m not sure why. But what I am sure of, is that you don’t give a damn who’s underneath the debris when it all comes crashing down. You’ll walk away…like you did from that old woman.”
Fuming, I inched up and closed the already slim gap between us. “You’re right. I watched her burn, and I walked away. I watched them all burn. But there was nothing left of that old woman’s body. Nothing left of any of them. There’s never anything left. Never anything I can do, nothing to fix, nothing to mourn. Just a fucking dumbass good-for-nothing ghost. And I don’t need any goddamn more of them than I already have.”
That got me no reply, only his penetrating stare.
A lot of other people were staring, too. Except, Creed’s expression was different than theirs. It was an odd, stunned, yet relieved kind of look. Like my words were disturbing, but he was glad I’d finally said something he could believe.
“I should bounce you from this case,” he said.
“Go ahead.”
“Don’t dare me like it’s what you want. If you did, you wouldn’t have taken the damn job in the first place.” I didn’t deny it, and he made a soft, surrendering sound. “Fine, Nite. I’ll play ball. Leaving the scene of that street fire downtown, I’ll give you that as a foul. But not telling me, not coming forward or even mentioning the possibility of a connection—that’s strike one. Two more and you’re out. But understand me. Whatever your personal interest is in our suspects, you either share it or shelve it. I won’t have you working behind my back, ignoring procedure, and screwing up my investigation. I can do that enough on my own.”
“Proper procedure isn’t going to cut it with this one. You know that.”
“Whoever is doing this will go to prison. That’s how this ends. That’s how it has to end.”
Finding his arrogance and naivety irritating, the words were out before I considered their repercussion. “Don’t you mean whatever is doing this? That is what you think, isn’t it, we’re chasing some thing, some creature that defies explanation? Something fucked up.”
He glanced around. “Lower your voice.”
I didn’t. “And don’t you dare tell me I’m being reckless, or that I have underlying motives. I see it behind your eyes, Detective; the itch that needs satisfying, the desire for answers, the need to know what’s out there because there’s nothing left in here.” I poked at his chest.
He gripped my hand, squeezing it as the words squeezed from his clenched jaw. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“And you know even less about me.”
I yanked out of his hold, betraying more strength than I should have. Thankfully, Creed was too angry to notice. “Finish up,” he growled. “That call I just answered? We have another one. A vagrant down by the old dry docks. So I guess that makes eighteen.” Pushing past me, Creed stalked off back down the trail.
As his angry stride retreated, I cursed out a heavy breath. I had no idea what had come over me. I was supposed to be covert, not confrontational. I was supposed to manipulate and control the investigation away from the truth. Now, I had a body count in the double digits and no solid leads. I’d alienated the police into suspecting me, and I’d stepped right into the Guild’s spotlight. The whole damn thing was spinning further out of my grip with every move.
What the hell am I doing?
A twig snapped behind me.
Freeing the knife from the sheath at my back, I spun and seized the form creeping up on me. The second the blade neared his face, I realized my mistake.
I wasn’t the only one.
Twenty feet away,
the pony-tailed officer was pointing her gun at me. “Drop it,” she said.
Even if I wasn’t already, her perfect posture, steady aim, and no-nonsense ‘I’ll kill you if you hurt him’ expression would have persuaded me. “I’m sorry,” I said, easing my grip on Officer Evans. “I heard someone sneaking up. It was just reflex.”
Stepping away, Evans turned to face me. I braced myself for his well-deserved anger, followed swiftly by his handcuffs. Instead, he eyed me with appreciation on his shadowy features. “Nice reflexes,” he said. “Impressive.’
I eyed the woman holding the gun. “Hers, too.”
He gestured at her. “Put it away, Geronimo. We’re good here.”
Unmoving, she questioned him. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Let’s give Miss Nite some space to cool off.”
As the woman holstered her gun, Evans studied me. “That’s all you need, right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Embarrassed, but fine.” I forced a thin smile. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. And don’t worry about Creed. He’s intense, but he’s a good guy.”
“I know.” My eyes following the officer as she walked off, when she hit the range of the lights, she looked back with an unmistakable glance of warning in my direction. As she entered the tunnel, curiosity got me. “Was that your partner?”
“Temporarily. Mine’s laid up with a broken leg, and hers is on his honeymoon. With everything going on, Barnes doesn’t want anyone stuck on desk. It’s all hands on deck.”
“You called her Geronimo?”
“Everybody does. Trust me,” Evans grinned. “It’s appropriate. You stick around long enough, and you’ll have a nickname, too.”
I smiled as he stepped away, but the expression quickly waned as I realized the odds of that happening. I was wrong to think I could settle here. Wrong to think I could settle anywhere.
This isn’t my world, I thought, a lump growing in my throat.
But it has to be. It’s all I’ve got.
Thirteen
Rain plunked and bounced off the row of cardboard boxes pushed up against the massive concrete wall. It slid off the inert set of disjoined legs protruding from the soggy open flaps. The neighboring boxes were empty. Their occupants had been removed and taken to the station for questioning. Most had been drunk or asleep, or both, when the body was found with its torso and head charred beyond recognition. None were suspects. They were barely witnesses. Easily, they could have been questioned on scene, which made Creed’s gesture of moving the group of shivering men and women out of the rain for a couple of hours obvious.
Nite Fire: Flash Point Page 13
