Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
Franklin
My body creaked when I slid out of bed. I’d managed five hours of sleep, Boone’s body wrapped around me like an octopus most of the night. I hated leaving him this morning. I should have woken him to say goodbye, but he’d looked so peaceful that I didn’t have the heart to do it.
Instead, I’d taken a bar of soap and written I love you on the bathroom mirror. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. It was currently all I had.
Leon was still awake when I left the house, Phlox curled up by his side on the porch swing. The sun had barely peeked over the horizon when I waved goodbye, wished him a good day, and slipped into my SUV. The only good thing about being out and about this early was the quiet roads.
The sun painted the horizon in soft oranges and yellows when I walked through the doors of the precinct. The same attendant was on desk duty this morning as when I left last night. That was never a good sign. The officer’s raised eyebrows and thinned lips let me know she held similar beliefs.
My desk was as I’d left it the night before.
I’d managed to quiet my brain overnight enough to actually sleep.
Seeing the scattered papers and messy lines connecting names, dates, and other known facts mocked me as I stared down at them, the lines blurring and running together.
I doubted that made them any less decipherable.
Plopping down on my chair, I took a drink of bitter coffee, cringing at the taste.
I sure as shit wasn’t drinking it for the flavor.
I needed the caffeine kick. The only problem was that I’d had so much that my body had grown accustomed to the drug, and it wasn’t offering nearly the pick-me-up it used to.
I was through my coffee and had moved on to my bottle of orange juice and second bagel when Dr. Stowe called me to the morgue. If there was anyone spending more time at the precinct than me, it was our ME, Dr. Evelyn Stowe.
Covering a yawn, I pushed through the morgue doors. The cool air and chemical scent of disinfectant washed over me as I raised my voice enough to say, “Just me, Dr. Stowe.”
“Evelyn,” she corrected me for the hundredth time. Just like every other time, I ignored her.
“What have you got for me?” I leaned heavily on a nearby desk, arms folded as I twisted my neck this way and that. My body was tired of sitting all day.
Mimicking my stance, instead of a desk, Dr. Stowe leaned her body on a nearby counter. Her white jacket appeared more pristine than typical. Working with bones instead of flesh and blood was definitely easier on the cleaning bill.
“I’d like to say I’ve got a lot, but that would be stretching the truth.” Dr. Stowe sounded as tired as I felt.
“That implies there is something though.”
Head hanging, Dr. Stowe held up her hand, tilting it back and forth. “I called you down to discuss our latest victims.”
“The males,” I clarified.
Dr. Stowe pushed off the counter, walking to a table with one of our victim’s bones laid out.
To my untrained eye, the skeleton appeared complete.
“John Doe number one. Age is twenty-five to thirty. Six foot one. Dark hair, Caucasian, teeth indicate good care and I suspect braces when he was younger. He does have two fillings.” Dr. Stowe pointed to some obvious knicks in the rib cage. “See those?”
I nodded. “I’ve seen marks like those before. Knife wound?”
“That or something equally as sharp. I’ll get impressions of the marks, see if they match up to any weapon that might be found later.”
“Is that the cause of death?”
“It seems likely. There’s staining on the bones.
Our John Doe bled out. Given the location of the marks, I’d say the killer was very precise and had excellent aim.
Straight to the heart.” Dr. Stowe made a jabbing motion with her arm.
“It’s not as easy as it sounds. The ribs and sternum are there for a reason, and it’s to help protect the heart and lungs from things like this.
Whoever did this had to have had a lot of strength. ”
I wouldn’t call strangulation or suffocation a good way to die, but this sounded worse than what our original six ladies had gone through. “Anything else?”
Dr. Stowe pointed to the right hand. “Two fractured fingers—both old wounds and healed years ago. Otherwise, the skeletal remains are unremarkable.”
I jotted down Dr. Stowe’s remarks as I followed her to the next set of remains. I’d get an official report later, but given how much work our ME had on her hands, I wasn’t holding my breath and knew my tired brain wouldn’t remember without the written reminder.
The next twenty minutes passed in similar fashion, and I made notes for each body.
We’d made it through two more—another Caucasian and one Latino—when my phone rang.
I excused myself to take the call when I recognized the number.
The timing wasn’t great, but rolling with changing plans was part and parcel of the job.
“That was the canine unit. I’m afraid I’m gonna have to cut our little skeletal show-and-tell short.” I pocketed my phone. “Looks like it’s a busy day for the cadaver-sniffing dog.” The county only had one, and we were lucky to have Bucky. Properly trained working dogs were costly.
Dr. Stowe waved me off. “Go on. The bones will still be here when you get back.” Running her fingers through her hair, Dr. Stowe’s shoulders slumped as she leaned heavily on the table containing body number four.
“I don’t mean to overstep, but you need to get some rest. God knows what we’ll find out there today, and given our current luck, we might get called out to a new scene.” I fought the bile creeping up my throat at the thought of more victims.
“If I were a witch, I’d curse you for even suggesting that.” Dr. Stowe’s narrowed eyes indicated she was dead serious.
“Lucky for me you’re human, just like me.”
“Pfft, human and charmed to the gills because of your fiancé,” Dr. Stowe teased. Pointedly looking at my pockets, she said, “When you’re packing that many, they’re difficult to hide.”
My laugh grated through my scratchy throat. “True enough, but I refuse to apologize.” I stuffed my hands in my pockets, jangling the charms.
“Not asking you to. I’m more relieved than anything. Now, off with you. Don’t keep Bucky waiting.”
“I’ll talk with you later, Doc.”
“Evelyn,” Dr. Stowe shouted as I walked out the door, heading for my vehicle and our latest body dump scene.
I’d just pulled out on the road when my phone rang.
I recognized the ringtone and answered immediately.
As was typical, Warlock Holland spoke before I could offer even the barest of greetings.
“Why is there an agent of the Magical Usage Council at my son’s home, and why am I just learning about it now, from Boone’s mother no less? ”
“Good morning to you too, Warlock Holland.” Hearing Boone’s pops’s deep voice no longer made me want to piss myself, but it was a near thing.
“Good is a stretch, Franklin.”
“Can’t argue that.”
I was also used to Holland’s thoughtful pauses and no longer assumed the phone call had been dropped. “You sound tired.”
“That’s because I am.” It was becoming increasingly difficult to hide my growing exhaustion.
“What is going on?” I actually liked how direct and to the point Holland was.
Treating him in kind, I gave a quick rundown of our recent homicides. “I’m on my way back to our more recent site to meet up with the canine unit. We’ll see if Bucky finds anymore bodies that we missed.”
“I assume this Bucky is a canine.”
“You assume correctly.”
“I mean no disrespect to…Bucky, but I believe my son would be a far better resource.”
“I don’t think Bucky would take offense.
As for Boone… Like you said earlier, we have company at the house, and I don’t think he’d be comfortable leaving them there.
I can easily get Boone permission to be at the crime scene.
I can’t say the same regarding Agent Frost and Leon.
” I’d actually considered it but dismissed the idea just as quickly.
“And that brings us back to why my son has these guests in his home. Only learning that Leon is a bonded vampire kept me here in California. I would not risk my son sharing space with one of those blood suckers otherwise. That was not meant as a species-ist slur. Facts are facts. Vampires require blood to maintain their second lives.”
I wasn’t so certain about that. I’d heard that most vampires were actually very particular about their blood source. Regardless, I’d give Holland the benefit of the doubt. He’d certainly been alive longer than me and been around far more vamps than me as well.
I was about halfway to my destination and thankfully knew the route well, considering my conversation with Holland took up a lot of mental space. “Boone trusts them, and they made it through your wards just fine.” Holland’s wards kept out anyone that meant Boone—and now me—harm.
“Yes, well, be that as it may, I am still not pleased, and you have yet to inform me as to the purpose of their visit.”
A sigh rattled through my lungs. “Honestly, I’m not sure.”
There was another long pause before Holland asked, “Why not? Given how smitten Erasmus is with you, I cannot imagine him keeping such information a secret.”
Holland could win the Academy Award for backhanded compliments.
Smitten. Really? “I don’t think Boone’s keeping secrets.
The honest truth is that I’ve been working too damn much.
I was only home for about six hours last night, five of which were spent sleeping.
Knowing Boone, whatever’s going on, he’s keeping it to himself because he doesn’t want to stress me further.
” I should have quizzed Boone more when I got home last night, but I hadn’t.
I’d been so damn tired, and all I wanted to do was get something to eat, shower, and get as much skin contact as I could.
My brain felt overloaded, and I hated the fact that I understood why Boone hadn’t discussed anything heavy with me.
Holland’s sigh rivaled my own. “That sounds like my son.” There was a wealth of exasperated fondness in that short statement. “This case of yours is indeed poor timing.”
That was putting things mildly, but I didn’t say those words out loud. Instead I said, “I’ll make sure to speak with him tonight.”
“See that you do.” Those words were clipped, but Holland’s next ones were softer. “I will send some charms that might be useful. Thank Gaia I am no witch, but warlock-made charms are helpful for aches, pains, and general weariness.”
I was desperately searching for something to say as I pulled off the road, heading down a small stretch of gravel toward our latest crime scene. Finally, I settled on “that’s very kind of you.”
“Nonsense. You are important to my son, and therefore, you are important to me. You are, perhaps, more fragile than Erasmus. I will endeavor to use whatever is at my disposal to lessen the odds of your demise.” Holland sounded very put-upon when he added, “I am the best warlock in the country. However, even my talents are limited when it comes to human frailty. I am not Gaia herself.”
No one would ever accuse Nikodemus Holland of humility. “Thank you. I think.”
“No thanks are required.” I thought that was the end of the conversation, but Holland surprised me by asking, “Have the two of you set a date yet?”
“For the wedding?”
“What else would I be speaking of?”
I let Holland’s snark roll off my drooped shoulders.
“Not yet. Boone’s not comfortable planning anything with Huxley lingering out there somewhere.
He thinks an event like that will paint a target on our backs.
” I wasn’t sure I completely agreed but didn’t completely disagree either.
“Besides, I don’t think Boone would be able to enjoy the lead-up to the wedding or the wedding itself while worrying about Huxley.
” I wanted to get married more than anything.
I also wanted the day to be as joyous as it should be.
I wanted beautiful memories of our wedding.
I wanted Boone to look back on that day and smile.
Huxley’s shadow currently made that impossible.
“I see.” Holland was silently contemplative. “You will inform me if anything changes.”
“I will. I’m sorry about not contacting you regarding our visitors. I assumed Boone let you know.” I wasn’t sure why he hadn’t. Maybe he hadn’t thought about it.
“Most likely my son either did not want to bother me, or he did not think it important enough to relate. He would be wrong regardless of the reason.” Holland sounded more pragmatic than upset.
Another vehicle drew up behind me, “K-9 Unit” written across every side of the SUV.
“Looks like Bucky and his handler just showed up. I’ll see what I can find out later tonight.”
“That is acceptable. Take care, Detective O’Hare.”
Whether Holland only cared because of his son or not, I appreciated the sentiment and responded, “You too.” I think we both ended the call at the same time.
I took a moment to take about five deep breaths before slipping from my vehicle.
Bucky’s handler was already outside, the rear door open.
Bucky sat in the back seat, drool dripping from his sagging lips.
Bloodhound through and through, most of Bucky’s skin sagged.
It was like someone picked out a coat that was about two sizes too big for Bucky’s skeletal frame.
“I hear there were multiple bodies found,” Bucky’s handler said by way of greeting.
“Five thus far.” I nodded toward Bucky. “No offense, but I really hope that’s still the final count after today.”
“We’ll find out.” The handler affectionately slapped Bucky on his side. “If there are remains out there, this guy will find them. Won’t you, Bucky?”
The deep, agreeing woof Bucky let loose made me jump. Christ, I really did need to get more sleep if Bucky’s bark affected me that way.
“Come on, boy, let’s get too it.”
Bucky jumped out of the back seat, nose to the ground and large, drooping ears dragging the earth. Climbing back into the driver’s seat of my SUV, I leaned back and let my eyes slip closed. Maybe I could catch a few winks while Bucky did his thing.