by Ann Denton
I fall off the couch.
“Darn it!”
I search, bleary-eyed for my phone. It’s got to be almost 4:00 p.m. Who the heck is calling me? I find the phone and answer.
“Hello?”
“Honey, I need your help.” Jacob’s voice is desperate. It sounds like he’s been crying. Immediately, I sit up.
“What is it?”
“It’s Saffron. I think—I think she might have had something to do with Georgina’s death.”
Chapter 13
I drop the phone and it slides under the couch. I reach into the gap to grab it but it's just past my reach. I have to get full-body on the floor. I flail my arm around and feel my fingers touch the very edge of the phone.
"Hold on Jacob," I call as I go around to the back side of the couch. I get on my knees and shove my hand back under the gap.
Of course, I don't hear Bennett come in. I'm too focused on clutching my phone and trying to extricate my hand from under the sofa.
"This is the second time in two days I've found you crawling around on the floor. Is this some kind of new thing with you?" Bennett's eyes are joking.
I don't have time for jokes right now. Not after what Jacob just told me. I pull the phone up and back to my ear. I wave Bennett off.
He rolls his eyes and saunters toward his bedroom.
"Jacob?" I whisper, creeping across the living room. I pull open the front door and step outside. I do not want Bennett overhearing this conversation.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes. Sorry. Dropped the phone." Normally this would have earned me a chuckle. Not now. “I missed everything after you said Saffron might … you know …” I can’t even say the words. It feels like sacrilege.
"You know the quilts we gave her?” Jacob asks.
"Yeah?"
"It's not a joke anymore. She hardly ever sleeps at home. Sometimes I don't see her for two days straight."
I have to force myself to hold onto the phone this time. "Has she had a lot of trials lately?"
"No."
"What about campaign stuff?"
"No."
I take a deep breath. The next question is hard. “Are you guys having … problems?”
Jacob’s sigh turns into a sob. “I’m not sure.”
“I’m on my way over.”
I slip back inside to grab a few things only to find Bennett right inside the door.
“Eavesdropper.”
“Investigator,” he counters. “Was that Jacob Watts?”
I squint up at him. “Am I allowed to talk to him?”
He gives a shrug. “I wouldn’t mind if you’d wear another spelled recorder.”
“Around Jacob? Are you kidding?” I push him.
“I’m not. Ly, I had to wait around Saffron’s chambers to pull her in for a second interview. And who walked out of chambers with her?”
“Who?” My chest gets tight.
“Matthew Boolye. I’ll give you two guesses how my interview went.”
“She lied?” Oh shit. Oh shit. No. Saffron’s always been … determined, logical. Calculating. Cold. Some people think she’s cold. I blink up at Bennett.
“She lied. Said she and Matthew were going over financials when Georgina was murdered. You know what the video monitors at Abra Casino show? Both of them leaving the meeting room after the confrontation with Georgina. They walk down the hall. But strangely enough, the camera around the corner wasn’t working. I have a witch and and an IT guy on it, but …”
“But. But …” I have no clue what to say. “What about the unicorn guy? Did they report him?”
“Matthew did. No mention of Saffron. The unicorn himself just remembers Georgina. No one else.”
I sit straight down. On the floor. My world is spinning. “She didn’t report it.” She’s always been upstanding. She’s always been my apple-pie-in-the-sky bad-ass, kick-ass hero. She’s a judge. She has to report stuff like that. A sinking part of me wonders how right Jacob is. Is the Saffron I knew and loved gone?
Bennett crouches next to me. He rubs my shoulder.
“I have to go see Jacob. I told him I was going.”
Bennett nods, then stands and jogs over to his desk. He pulls out an ugly-as-crap spelled bracelet. This one has a bottle cap instead of a coin as a trinket. Whoever supplies the investigation team has terrible taste. He wraps the chain twice around my wrist and fastens it.
“Why do you keep making me do this?” My eyes fill with tears.
“I’m not the only investigator on this, Ly.” Bennett clears his throat.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I might not think you did it. And we might have some evidence to the contrary. But her parents won’t confirm your humanizing theory. They won’t confirm anything really. And there’s nobody else in town who can confirm what you say about your blood. No legal way for me to do it. But the more you go out of your way to help as an informant …”
“Who thinks I did it?”
He shrugs. I want to punch him and make him tell me.
“It’s someone who’s friends with Arnold isn’t it?” That pudgy ass!
He shrugs again. I know it has to be. Arnold and I have a staunch mutual-hate relationship. Even so, it hurts a little. But thinking about that’s not gonna do any good. Right now, I wish I was a witch. That I had enough magic to turn back time and undo it all. But wishes won’t get me anywhere. Instead, I have a scratchy spelled bracelet.
I rub at my eyes, exhaustion creeping back over me. It’s only been a few days. But the stress has made it feel endless.
“What do I say?” I picture Jacob, my poor sweet coyote man. If he hasn’t shifted and started howling out his cries by the time I get there, I’ll be surprised.
“Just listen.”
“Great advice. On the suck-o-meter that’s a whopping 9.5. Just listen?” I wish I had packed a camera. That spy-cam worked out so well last time.
Bennett sighs. “You better get going.”
“I need a key.”
“Why? You’ll just lose it.”
I punch his arm. But Bennett does not get up to give me a key. “I’ll be here when you get back. Probably. If not, I can fly back in like five minutes.”
Fine. He wants to be that way about my shortcomings. “Sure. Five minutes. Except if it’s like that one time—”
His eyes flare. “Do not.”
“Oh, I will. Took you almost half an hour to get home. I sat on the steps. My butt was numb.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” he grits his teeth.
“I told you not to eat nine chili dogs.”
“Just go.” He pushes me toward the door and outside.
I turn. He slams the door in my face, hoping to end the conversation.
But I’m not down with that. “Had to land every two minutes to find a bush!” I yell. “Remember that? Squirts?!” I yell the nickname his friends and I gave him after that incident. Took him months to live it down. Am I petty? Yup. But, come on. He dragged me to his apartment, forced me to stay behind during his investigation, told me some people still think I’m a murderer, and then kicked me out without a key.
Bennett doesn’t respond. I go to kick his door but it flies open, making me fall flat on my butt. Smack! Mother eff!
He glares down at me. His green stare is intense. “You want to resurrect old nicknames, Orphan?”
Low blow. Bringing up my mom issues is not cool.
“Just give me a key.”
“No.”
“Why? And don’t tell me it’s because I lose them.”
“I don’t …” he pauses and his eyes flicker inside.
“You don’t want me in there without you. Why? Girlfriend?”
“No.”
“But you left me there once without you already.”
His neck starts to get red.
“Is this about the photo?”
The heat creeps up his cheeks. Embarrassment washes over his face.
“I’ve seen it. In large living color.”
“Why were you in my bedroom?”
I shrug. “I was gonna kick you to the couch.”
He shakes his head. “Ly. I wanted to talk before—”
“Before I saw it?”
He sighs and nods. He offers me a hand up from the ground. His hand is warm and hard and latches onto mine. I stare at our hands for a moment and things get entirely too serious. I can’t handle it.
“Took you long enough to remember to be a gentleman,” I scoff. “But, I guess stalkers aren’t used to being gentlemen.”
“Not a stalker.”
I roll my eyes and pull my hand gently away. “Yeah. Sure, French. Not a stalker.” I’m not ready to deal with the serious look in his eyes. I twirl and run down the steps. I pause at the bottom to summon a Broomer. Within a minute, a witch appears, hovering in mid-air in front of me. I peek back up at Bennett. He hasn’t left the stoop.
I hop on the Broomer. As the witch wheels around I yell, “I’ve counted my underwear. It better all still be there when I get back!”
Saffron and Jacob live in the Cliffs. It’s a gated community. And the name is literal. As in each house is at the top of a small man-made cliff. Great for thunderbirds who fly like Saffron. Why Jacob agreed to it, I don’t know. He’s always been the giver. Man, I hope he’s just stressed. I hope he’s wrong. I hope Saffron hasn’t nose-dived from the pressure of the campaign.
But Georgina went crazy. I mean, she attacked me that night. She hardly knows me. Probably doesn’t even know my last name. And Georgina just owns a vamp B&B (Bed and Blood). She didn’t have near the stress level Saffron does. I mean, Saffron locks creatures away. She works death penalty cases. That’s gotta take a toll. Has she had a breakdown?
I think about her behavior. Run through my memories. She was a little late to my birthday dinner. But when is she not running late? I haven’t noticed her be weird around Jacob. Maybe … maybe quieter. But you know, people mellow in their old age. Ben’s news and Jacob’s call shake me.
The witch flies me to the Watts’ doorstep. I don’t even have to ring the bell. Jacob’s there. He’s not sobbing but his eyes are red.
“Come in.”
Jacob paces while I sit on the leather couch. It’s like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Honestly, it’s a little scary to watch your rock melt down. I mean, Jacob’s been there for me for almost a decade. Since my dad passed. And I’ve never seen him like this. He wrings his hands. His eyes fill up with tears.
I open my arms. He sits next to me. I let him cry on my shoulder. Every so often, his breathing hitches. He calms himself to quiet. But then a thought will set him off again. We’re on the couch until it’s nearly sunset.
When he’s finally cried out, I turn to him. “Tell me.”
“Judge Gruff. She was on the phone with Gruff,” Jacob begins.
Gruff’s another felony judge. Head of the unit. He’s the one who assigns judges to different courtrooms. He’s also the judge that signs off on search warrants.
“She asked Gruff to wait on the warrant for Georgina.”
I gasp. Search warrants are the legal way for our investigators to get into private property and get evidence. Interfering is a big no no. It can tarnish a case. Evidence can get lost. Hidden. Erased. My eyes meet Jacob’s. He stops walking, as though telling me has emptied him of nervous energy. Getting the truth out has drained him.
“Does she know you heard?”
He nods slowly. “She had the door cracked. Pacing while she talked. She turned. Saw me.”
“What did she say?”
“After she hung up, she told me she was trying to protect you.”
My heart cracks just a little. “She thinks I did it?”
Jacob crosses the room and crouches in front of me in time to swipe away a tear from my cheek. “No, honey. I don’t really think she does. I know I don’t. But the only reason I can see her doing that …”
“Is if there’s something at Georgina’s apartment she doesn’t want everyone to see.”
He nods. “That night, Georgina didn’t just threaten you, sweet pea. She threatened Saffron.”
He’s right. She did. Georgina had been spewing all kinds of threats. I kinda only focused on mine once her hands were around my neck. I feel like puking. Jacob’s information, combined with Bennett’s information earlier about the hall cameras … I have to swallow the bile. I can’t break down in front of Jacob. “But what could she have known about Saffron?”
Jacob shakes his head. “I’m not sure. That’s what I want you to come with me to find out.”
I nod. “Where are we going?”
“Where else? Georgina’s apartment.”
One spelled tablet and a hair-raising cliff-ride later, I’m ducking through alleyways on Jacob’s back, second-guessing my sanity. Not just my wisdom. I definitely should have said no. This is a stupid idea. I have no wisdom left. But did I also lose my sense of self-preservation? I just agreed to a B&E (breaking and entering—yeah, that acronym’s the same) in a recorded conversation. I kind of think I might deserve lock-up, just not the kind Arnold and friends want for me. The padded cell kind.
When Jacob gets close to Georgina’s apartment, he stops. I slide off, my legs still trembling with adrenaline. Jacob hides behind a dumpster to shift and change. I fumble in my pocket for a spelled tablet to get bigger, but a hand stops me.
“Don’t,” Jacob’s eyes pierce mine as he crouches to reach my mini-me eye-level. “You’ll be less noticeable if you stay small.” It’s just after sunset, and everything is that hazy shade of grey. He’s right. If I stay small, I’ll be able to watch more.
“What about you? You might have been able to pass for a dog. Someone might recognize you.”
He shrugs away the danger. “I need my hands.”
My hands start to shake. How can he be so nonchalant about this? “Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean. At the very least it’s trespassing. And it could be—”
“Lyon.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “You’re not going in. And you’re not keeping watch.”
“But, but isn’t it conspiracy if I know about the crime?”
He raises his eyebrows. “What crime? I’m gonna go upstairs and knock on the door. Georgina’s father’s supposedly been staying at her place to keep investigators out until he verifies they’ve got a warrant. I’m just gonna go in and talk to him. Maybe take an extended trip to the bathroom.” He winks.
“Oh. Oh.” I put a hand over my heart, forcing it to calm down. “You coulda’ told me that before we left. I’ve been freaking out this whole ride.”
“Sorry. I would never do that to you, you know.”
I shake my head. “I know. I just. These past few nights have been hard.”
Jacob scoops me up into a massive hug. And being the size of a two-year old, I get the amazing sensation of safety and comfort. It reminds me of being a little kid. I don’t want to let go.
A clanging noise jolts us apart. At first I think someone’s thrown something at the dumpster behind us. But then Jacob points up. A man in a mask hurries down the fire escape above us. Out a window on the third floor.
“Didn’t you say Georgina’s apartment was on the third floor?” I turn to Jacob. I have a bad feeling about this.
He nods. “Get out of here and call the cops.” He takes off toward the fire escape.
I start down the alley but turn when I smell smoke. My eyes flicker upward.
Georgina’s apartment is on fire.
Chapter 14
“Fire!” I yell. Fire. Shit. Shit. Oh shit. Where’s my phone? I search my pockets frantically, so I can call this in. I don’t feel my phone. “Son of a Trucker! I must have left my phone at Jacob’s.” I look around, ready to assault a stranger for a good cause. But nobody’s around this time of night. Except there, rounding the corner away from me.
“Stop!” I sprint toward the stranger. “There�
�s a fire! We need to call the cops! Stop!” I barrel right into the man’s back. I latch onto his trench coat to keep from falling face first into the pavement. I’ve had enough head injuries for one week, thank you. I let go as soon as I’m sure I’ve got my balance. “Sorry.” I realize that I would probably be better off normal-sized. The man might have heard me better. I take the spelled tablet to get big again.
The man turns. I gasp.
“Luke?!”
He holds a box in his hands. A box of belongings that looks suspiciously like a break-up box. My eyes flicker from the box back up to him.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
I shake my head. “In a sec. Georgina’s apartment is on fire. I can’t find my phone. I need yours!”
His eyes snap over to the building and widen. I can’t tell if it’s real or faux surprise. A shiver of fear runs through me. Did I just run into the arsonist?
“Shit!” Luke curses and shoves the box at me. A phone lands on top of the pile. “Georgina’s dad’s in there!” He sprints back toward the brick apartment complex, where flames now lick the top floor windows. Residents from the lower floors are streaming out. Someone must have warned them.
Guilt washes over me as I watch Luke yank open the front door and push his way inside, toward danger. Toward one of the few things that can kill a vampire. Fire. How could I have misjudged him like that? I kick myself. I drop his box at my feet and grab the phone, dialing 9-1-1.
The cops roll up as I’m giving details to the dispatcher. “Never mind. Looks like cops are here. Just make sure fire’s on the way.” I hang up. I’m about to wade through the crowd to tell the police to send a man inside to look for Luke when he comes stumbling out. He’s covered in soot. And he’s alone. I start toward him, but the cops swarm him like little blue bees.
They cuff him before I can take more than three steps. I’m about to stomp on over and scream at them in public—not my best idea, admittedly—but a hand on my shoulder stops me.
“Don’t. We’ll sort it out down at the station.” Bennett orders.
