Out of the Blue
Page 39
Chapter 25
A distant chiming cut through the darkness. Scrunching up his nose, Niko worked to make his eyelids move. He groaned softly, reaching with a leaden arm to swat at the alarm going off. But his hand found nothing. No cellphone, no alarm clock, just air. Confused, the chiming getting increasingly urgent, Niko cracked his eyes open to stare blearily around the room. Something was wrong. It was dark. Very dark.
After a moment’s disorientation, Niko remembered he was in a hotel room at the Lotus and not at home. Then the rest of the relevant memories came back. After wiping away the sleep in his eyes, he glanced at the windows, still uncovered from his activities with Cobalt. There was little to no light coming in, which meant it was either very late or very early, depending on perspective. He had no alarms set for the middle of the night.
Then it hit him. The cellphone the department had set up for Cobalt. As a contact number for the Woods.
Bolting from the bed, Niko stumbled gracelessly through the bedroom to the living room. He moved so violently he woke Cobalt.
“Who’s attacking?” Cobalt asked through a sleepy slur. Niko had no time to consider this reaction as he tossed clothing and accessories aside in search of the phone. He found it in the bag of tools and accessories the department had given him, abandoned on the floor beneath Niko’s leather short shorts. Flipping the phone over, he found there was no caller ID on the screen and no number. It simply read unknown.
Niko ran back to the bedroom, holding it out for Cobalt, who was now sitting up and squinting at him.
“It’s for Cobb Snyder,” Niko said, shoving the phone at him. “Sound sleepy and disoriented.”
Cobalt nodded dimly, blinking at the phone screen. Niko was pretty sure he wouldn’t have trouble with those instructions. Swiping a finger across the screen, Cobalt tapped the speakerphone icon but held the phone close to his mouth to mask it. Niko became completely motionless, afraid to make the slightest sound.
“What is it?” Cobalt asked, his voice rough and gravelly, his tone mildly miffed. Niko nodded at him very slightly.
“Good, you answered. Best not to leave messages,” a voice said. It sounded familiar but tinny.
“Who is this?” Cobalt asked, evoking the appropriate level of anger and confusion.
“Do you forget your new friends so quickly, Cobb?” the voice asked, a smirk in the tone. “How many new people do you meet in a night with the same particular interests as you?”
The sound cleared briefly, and Niko shared a look with Cobalt. He mouthed the word Preston to which Cobalt nodded.
“Preston?” he half-said, half-asked. “My apologies, I didn’t expect to hear from you so—early.” A glance at the clock on the screen indicated it was four in the morning. An odd time to do business.
A laugh from the other end of the phone line. “Werewolves live for the night,” he said. “Just calling to tell you you’re in. Meet me at 1436 Oleander Road at seven pm. Don’t be late. Oh, and order a black town car to get there. I find Cardinal Services to be reliable. And discreet.”
He hung up before Cobalt could even consider responding. He looked up at Niko, still holding the phone face-up between them. “There’s our invitation. You were right about them wanting to set up another gathering fast,” Cobalt told him, and Niko nodded.
“Oleander Road isn’t in the central tourist-y areas of Maeve’s Court. It’s off the beaten path a bit. Lots of industrial properties and—” Niko stopped, something clicking in his mind. He took the phone from Cobalt and searched the address. It only confirmed what he thought. “And a sound stage.”
Cobalt seemed not to understand. “What is a sound stage?”
“Massive buildings with specially designed ‘stage’ areas where they film movies and such,” Niko explained. “I’d bet this one belongs to Noor Juniper’s production company. I guess it’s her turn to put up a property.” He sighed, staring at the outline of the location on the map. “But a sound stage likely has multiple small rooms with numerous exists and places to hide. Not to mention the very real possibility they’ve got movie sets acting as the backdrop to this. There’s no way to prep a reasonable entry team for somewhere this large and complicated on so little notice.” Niko set the phone down and, his body finally running out of adrenaline to support it, he sank down on the bed next to Cobalt. “We were always on our own, but I thought if it got really bad, we could call in backup. A location like this is just too dangerous.”
Cobalt stilled next to him. The air was cool, and Niko was suddenly aware he was still naked. Goosebumps rose on his skin.
“We will not need backup,” Cobalt said. “This is our one chance to find Indigo’s killer, our one chance to find the remaining Selkies, if any. I will not back down now, no matter how dangerous the way ahead seems.”
There was an unspoken question in his words, and Niko was taken aback by it. “You think that’s what I’m saying?” he asked. Niko shook his head. “I see my cases through to the end. No matter what.” He caught Cobalt’s eye, and a solemn determination seemed to connect them then. “All I’m saying is that if this goes badly, no one is coming in to save us. We can leave all our information for the Captain, but once the event is over, he’ll be back at square one. Are you prepared for that? Sacrificing everything for an answer you might never get to deliver to your King?”
Again, Niko felt a chill on the air. Cobalt’s expression was dark, edged with something Niko couldn’t quite name. “I will sacrifice whatever necessary,” Cobalt said, and the conviction in the words unsettled Niko. He thought, for the first time, he understood something about Cobalt. And he wasn’t sure what to do with it.
***
The hours leading up to the meeting time were spent in ebbing states of flurry. The lack of sleep having caught up to them, Niko made a conscious decision to sleep late after the phone call with Preston. He urged Cobalt to do the same, but as they lay back in bed following the call, a kind of awkwardness rested between them. They were both still naked, a choice Niko stuck to as he slipped back beneath the covers, but now they were aware of it. Not lovers or boyfriends, and not quite just ‘professional partners’ anymore either, Niko and Cobalt now fell into a strange liminal space. What were they, really? How many times could you have sex with someone before their title in your phone changes? Before the way you see them in your head shifts?
So Niko lay there, awake and frustrated, thinking over all the events of the case, all the details and evidence and components. It was a lot and nothing at once. There was so little evidence of anything. Just a giant hole in Indigo’s chest indicating murder above accident. What else did they really have? The word of a freelance prostitute and a convicted sex trafficker that the Woods even existed. The vague and patchy accounts of a strange party with even stranger guests at a manor with no official owner. And a sound no one could explain nor identify that may or may not have caused the death.
There was nothing. Where were the Selkies that had come to Maeve’s Court with Indigo now? Were they all dead too? Why not dispose of those bodies in a public way? Or, better yet, why display Indigo that way? Why invite the police to investigate? Why invite Selkies to make themselves known? Niko struggled with all the moving parts, with the reporters dogging the investigation, with the judge denying them a warrant. The case wasn’t adding up correctly. It was too much of a mess. And now he and Cobalt were planning to head into what could be a Woods event, without backup, to do what? What was their goal?
So Niko lay there for a long time, staring at his own eyelids as he tried to parse out the problem. Eventually, he fell into a fitful sleep, and suddenly, cracking his eyes open as though he had only just blinked, he woke to find it was nearly midday. Pushing himself out of bed, he turned to see Cobalt was gone. The air in the room was warm and comfortable, exactly right for his level of nakedness to seem normal. Padding to the doorway, Niko opened the door to the living area to find Cobalt lounging on the sofa, still naked, scrolling through somethin
g on the tablet the department had given Niko for the case. How he had signed in with Niko asleep, Niko wasn’t sure.
“There’s a sight for sore eyes,” Cobalt mused, looking up as Niko appeared. His mouth curved to a smile.
“You should have woken me,” Niko said, determinately ignoring either of their nudity to look over the food on the table. Room service had been by, apparently, as there was a spread of fruit, bagels, toppings, eggs, and bacon. Taking a plate, Niko served himself out some breakfast.
“Absolutely not,” Cobalt said, turning back to the tablet. “You needed to recover your strength for tonight.”
Niko’s mouth pulled at the comment, but he sidestepped it. “And you don’t?”
Cobalt cocked an eyebrow. “Of course. I did,” he said. A gesture toward the three massive bottles of natural spring water on the table, now completely empty, seemed to be his explanation. When Niko only continued to look confused, he added, “Selkie recovery relies far more heavily on water intake than on sleep. We sleep little, drink a lot.”
Picking up one of the empty bottles to read the label, Niko munched on some bacon. “You live in the ocean,” he said. “This is fresh water.”
“There are Selkies in fresh water,” Cobalt said without concern. Niko stopped, thinking that over, but Cobalt took no notice. “In any case, our bodies filter out salt and other impurities. We’re only harmed by certain chemicals we are unable to filter. Chlorine, for example.”
Huh. Niko put the bottle back down and finished his breakfast. “What are you reading?” he asked, pouring himself out a measure of tea from the magically warmed teapot on the table. “And how did you log in to that?”
Cobalt smirked. “Your password isn’t terribly secure,” he said. “I decided it would be best to gather as much information on the known variables for tonight. I spent the morning reading everything I could find on our four friends from the club.”
Glaring at Cobalt, Niko said, “You guessed my password?”
“Fuckoffletme1n isn’t really a surprising choice of characters for someone who knows you, Pet,” Cobalt said, and Niko shivered. Through his alarm at Cobalt guessing the password, he nearly missed his casual use of the term ‘pet.’ His cock bounced slightly, filling enough to be noticeable, and Niko immediately turned back to the table. He made a show of looking for sugar to try and calm himself down.
“It has a capital and a number in it, doesn’t it?” he snapped, holding the tea up to his nose to breathe it in deep, centering himself around the aroma. “Did you find anything useful?”
“Not much,” Cobalt said. “Or rather, plenty of useful information, just nothing terribly relevant for tonight. Madeleine Goshawk is essentially exactly what Starla described—a young, party-girl with expensive taste and wealthy parents to foot the bill. She mostly appears in paparazzi photos shopping during the day or dancing and generally putting herself on display at night. Usually accompanied by Noor Juniper. Goshawk has a few citations for public intoxication and indecency, but they were all smoothed over by her parents or connections.
“Noor Juniper is mildly more reserved. Her production company is very successful and well regarded in the film industry, though mostly only industry insiders really know her name. She’s rather a staple at industry events, now toting Goshawk on her heels, but she doesn’t spend much time in the public eye the rest of the time. She attends clubs like The RACK as incognito as possible, never drawing attention to herself when there isn’t already someone else drawing attention. She does, however, have one mark on her record. Apparently she was charged with domestic violence against an ex-girlfriend years ago, but the charges were dropped.”
“Does it say why?” Niko asked, finally focused enough on the information being offered he could show his dick without worrying about it standing to attention.
“Seems as though the victim recanted,” Cobalt said, reading the filing.
Niko shook his head. “That shouldn’t have been enough,” he said. “Even if the ex-girlfriend recanted her statement, the prosecutor would probably have gone forward with the case if there was a police report, photos, medical reports, and other evidence.”
Cobalt scanned through. “There is no other information anywhere regarding the case,” he said. Niko worked his jaw as he thought.
“Only pressure applied to the prosecutor’s office would result in dropped charges, I think,” Niko said. “So either Juniper had something on the prosecutor or she’s got very good friends. Could be both. Where’s the girlfriend now?”
Cobalt looked up at him with a meaningful expression. “Dead. Apparent suicide.”
Niko’s stomach churned. “Fuck. I guess we’ll never know for sure,” he said, and Cobalt nodded carefully. “There’s nothing like that on Goshawk? Maybe she’s only involved because of Juniper.”
Shaking his head, Cobalt said, “I doubt it. There’s no police evidence of anything, but her family’s social media pages are littered with little details. Her sister had some posts regarding childhood pets that all died suddenly and violently. Based on the captions and comments, her sister seems to think Madeleine was somehow involved, or at least happy the animals died. She even commented on one photo that she hated the dog in question.” He grimaced. “However, as she’s a citizen of Nimueh’s Court, any official police records are unavailable to me. If any exist. I’d imagine the Goshawk family would have covered up anything particularly heinous.”
Niko dropped into the chair next to the sofa, struck by a memory. A small kitten playing in a narrow yard. Yellowing grass and dried patches of dirt and a tiny little brown fluff padding up to a young Niko. He remembered its eyes most clearly—a bold, streaked yellow. For three days, he’d had a friend. And then his father decided to ‘clear out’ the yard.
“What about Redwood and Preston?”
Cobalt sighed. “Ambert Redwood has been around a long time. He’s travelled the waves of economic success. He’s owned several businesses, founding most of them. A few, earlier in his career, declared bankruptcy. They were badly managed, mostly, or just doomed to failure from what I can tell. One of his largest companies only recently reported drops in revenue, but it’s a defense contractor that made most of its profits on the ongoing war between Nimueh’s Court and what was then Logan’s Court. The recent Three Courts Treaty has had a noticeable impact on their bottom line.
“He does have a hand in numerous pots, however, so I doubt it’s making that significant an impact on him personally,” Cobalt went on. “He’s got a few strikes for drunken disorderly incidents in his past, though not for years. He did gain a black mark in the Escort’s Union registry, however. It was there briefly, and ultimately removed, but it was there. From what I’ve read, it’s rather difficult to get that, no?”
Niko nodded, his mind racing. “Essentially you need to show blatant and intentional disregard for an escort’s well-being that leads to death or near-death. And ignoring an escort’s predetermined safe words. That kind of thing. I can’t imagine what it took to get the mark removed.” He didn’t think it was possible. Once marked, the Union refused to do business with you anymore. Perhaps they only agreed to remove the mark, to keep the whole situation quiet, as long as he never tried to contract with them again.
“Seems they all have some unsavoury patches in their histories,” Cobalt said, considering the tablet.
“What about Preston?” Niko asked.
“There’s nearly nothing on him,” Cobalt admitted. “He’s got no police record, no presence in the papers beyond obscure mentions regarding his businesses or other dealings. And his past in the Werewolf Court is shrouded in mystery. Werewolves do not air their grievances on social medial like Fae or Wizards. All I could find was that his parents are gone, died of seemingly natural causes years ago. No other family to speak of. No notable pack affiliations. He does not seem to keep in contact with his old pack. Certainly unusual for a Werewolf.”
Silence fell between them for a long moment, while N
iko thought it all over. Finally, Niko sat up and gestured for Cobalt to give him the tablet. Cobalt did, without asking, and Niko tapped in a set of search parameters into the police database. The results that popped up were extensive. Too extensive. And likely not effective.
“Fuck,” Niko said, dropping it back on the table. Cobalt asked a silent question. “I thought maybe searching for other entries with similar histories to Goshawk and Juniper and Redwood might bring up potential clients of the Woods. If we filtered out by income, social class, that kind of thing. But the database isn’t refined enough for that. It just brings up everyone with domestic violence charges, regardless of other socio-economic factors. And the time it would take to sift through all these names and backgrounds isn’t worth it for no guarantee.”
The distant sound of seagulls squarking drew Niko’s eyes to the sliding door of the balcony. The sky outside was clear and blue. He sighed to himself.
“We will have information tonight,” Cobalt said. “Names, faces, and more.”
It was meant as reassurance, Niko could tell. But the sheer number of walls they’d come up against so far on this case was disheartening. Infuriating. Depressing. How far-reaching was this organization? How many of the Court’s elite, wealthy, respected were part of this deplorable web? How many people secretly enjoyed buying and selling other people, torturing them, harming them, killing them? Did Niko even really want to know just how bad it was? And given the involvement of Madeleine Goshawk and Preston, it seemed clear Maeve’s Court wasn’t the only place fostering these types of people. Though perhaps Maeve’s Court was giving them more range to grow.