Chapter 21
Chapter
Twenty-One
Franklin
“Of course we’ll help.” Captain Cicely’s elbows rested on the arms of her oversized chair; her ringed fingers intertwined as they rested on her abdomen. “It’s the least this department can do for Erasmus.” With a shake of her head, Captain Cicely added, “If he’d charged what his services are truly worth, the department would be bankrupt by now. Either that or we’d have a much lower solved cases rate. And that’s saying nothing regarding what Boone went through at the hands of Dr. McCallister.”
I started to object, but Captain Cicely silenced me by holding up a hand. “I know what you’re going to say, but I still feel responsible. I’m a witch and a damn good one and I still didn’t figure out what McCallister was until it was too late. That’s on me.”
While I didn’t have a magical bone in my body, I thought the captain was taking too much responsibility on herself. But just like earlier with Boone, I knew this was an argument I’d never win and would be little more than wasted breath.
“Have you spoken with Officer Becks yet?” the captain asked.
“Only in generalities and that was before we had access to the complete list. I wanted to speak with you first.”
Captain Cicely gave a single nod. “Appreciated, O’Hare. As of now, you have my permission and support. Please inform Officer Becks that current cases are still her priority, but she may feel free to use whatever department resources she needs to help weed through this problem.”
“Thank you.” It wasn’t so much relief that hit me, more like satisfaction knowing I’d been correct. “I’d much rather use office resources than the alternative.” I winced, considering what that might be.
Captain Cicely cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowed in thought. The minuscule widening of her eyelids let me know she’d figured it out. “Director Huxley?”
“Call me crazy, but I think the less we involve him, the better.”
“That’s not crazy. It’s wise.” Captain Cicely’s eyebrows scrunched into a tight V. “I only know the man by reputation and that information is sparse. I think that’s what bothers me the most—not what we know, but what we don’t. It’s always been unsettling, but honestly, I’ve never had much need to interact with the Magical Usage Council. For the most part, witch covens police themselves. It varies from species to species and the Magical Usage Council certainly has its place. In the past, they’ve advocated for rights and changes in Fairy Law.”
A wave of unease slithered down my spine. “From what I understand, arguing with a fairy isn’t a light undertaking.”
Captain Cicely barked out a laugh. “No. Honestly, the only thing I think that saves us from fairy domination is their love for the law. Not the law itself, but the intricacies of it. It’s a type of warfare—a verbal battle of wits for dominance. It’s been speculated for decades that Fairy Law is little more than a game to them. A game with deadly consequences.” With a headshake, Captain Cicely leaned forward and said, “None of us individually would stand a chance against a fairy in a court of law. It takes a fairy to beat a fairy. Unless you’re the Magical Usage Council. They’ve got the resources to enter that arena and truly win. At least occasionally.”
I swallowed hard, at a loss for words. For better or worse, as a lowly human, arguing Fairy Law wasn’t a problem I’d ever confront.
Tapping a finger on her desk, Captain Cicely’s tone was sharp when she said, “You don’t get to be the Director of the Magical Usage Council without a decent ability to go against Fairy. At the very least, that makes Tenzen Huxley a master of wordplay. Do you get my meaning, O’Hare?”
“I understand.” At least as much as I could. Feeling cold from the pit of my stomach to the soles of my feet, I said, “I’ll go have a chat with Becks. I’m sure she’ll have a lot more ideas of where to start than I’ve got.”
“No doubt,” Captain Cicely answered, her body easing back as she relaxed now that the subject was on lighter ground. “Keep me updated and also let me know when you need some time off to accompany Boone back to Louisiana. And before you argue, I completely agree. Until this perpetrator is caught, I don’t want him going anywhere alone either.”
“That’ll be a little difficult considering his lack of transportation.” St. Tammany Parish still had Boone’s car impounded as evidence. He’d called his insurance company and they were setting up a rental for him. Boone’s momma offered to drive him over to pick the rental up. I couldn’t remember if they planned on doing that today or tomorrow.
“Fair enough, but regardless, you’ve got my blessing to go with him.”
“Thanks, Captain.”
“Anytime.” Captain Cicely waved me off. “Now, go talk with Becks. You’ll make her day with this shit.”
A chuckle rumbled through my chest as I stood and walked to the door. That humor was short-lived. Thoughts of Tenzen Huxley were never far behind, ready to burst those warm bubbles.
“ E asy peasy,” Becks said while staring at the long list of names.
My eyebrows hit my hairline. “How do you figure that?”
With a roll of her deep brown eyes, Becks scooted toward her desk and began typing. I swear the woman’s fingers had rockets fueling them. The speed and accuracy with which that woman typed was awe inspiring.
“I just need to set up the right program.”
“ Set up ? I get the feeling that means create .”
Becks casually shrugged, as if computer programming wasn’t a big deal. I suppose to her it wasn’t. To me it was like trying to speak Chinese. “Building the program will be a bit time consuming, but not difficult. I just need to set the proper parameters. What’s the end goal?” Becks’s fingers stopped their frenetic movements as she turned an expectant stare on me.
“Uh…to find living necromancers,” I lamely offered.
Becks nodded. “That’s a good start. We need to eliminate, or at least sort out, those that are already deceased.” Becks winced. “Sorry, that sounded more callous coming out of my mouth than inside my head.”
“No offense taken. Besides, you’re right. That’s the most obvious first step.” The deceased were beyond our help.
I rarely saw Becks pull out a piece of paper, but that’s what she did now. “Write down some suggestions based on need and practicality. We can always change the parameters later. Right now, it might be best to start with easy.”
“Such as?”
“Those within a five-hundred-mile radius,” she answered with a shrug. “The exact mileage isn’t the main point, more the fact that we’re looking for necromancers within acceptable travel distance. What that distance is, is up to you and Erasmus.”
My fingers danced along Becks’s desktop as I contemplated the question. “I think I need to have a chat with Boone.”
Becks waved me off. “Chat away. I can start setting up the program and tweak it later when you have specific parameters. I’m happy to help with that if you need it but I think to start, it would be a good idea if you and Erasmus had a clear idea what you’re after. Computers are great, but they’re currently limited. From what I understand, humans have been working on AI programming, but so far, Fairy Law isn’t supportive and I doubt that will change.” Becks swallowed hard. “You know I love everything cyberspace, but once again, I think Fairy is saving humanity from a clusterfuck.”
I hated how much I agreed. “One way or another, humanity seems hell-bent on destroying itself.”
“And taking out every other species in the process.” Becks’s sigh sounded more depressed than tired. “Anyway, the point is that a computer program is only as smart as its programming.” Becks’s mouth pursed. “That sounded redundant, but I’m not sure how else to say it.”
“Don’t worry. I think I understand. I’ll have a chat with Boone tonight, and we’ll—”
“Detective O’Hare, I’ve got someone here who wants to speak with you. He says he’s Lucas Davies’s brother.”
My head jerked to the side, staring up at Officer Denmark. He was young and currently working the front desk. The wide-eyed, frightened looking boy at his side was even younger.
William Davies, the younger brother. Quickly standing, three strides placed me in front of my guest. With a brief nod in Denmark’s direction, I dismissed the officer, leaving William Davies alone. “William?” I questioned. It was always good to make sure you had the correct person.
William shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He had a tired, frayed backpack strap draped over one shoulder. His jacket was older, but weather appropriate and appeared warm enough. William’s jeans were faded and looked thin in places but didn’t have any visible holes, much like his shoes. William’s dirty blond hair appeared windblown. His skin was pale and his blue eyes even paler. Those eyes had purple crescents hanging below. His troubled eyes stared at me with the understanding and experience of a man, not a boy of fourteen.
“Billy,” he softly answered. “Papa only calls me William when I’m in trouble.”
I grinned. No one in my family had every shortened my name from Franklin to Frank. Good or bad, I got the full pronunciation.
“Okay, Billy then. How can I help you?” I asked while gently guiding Billy toward my desk. I pulled up a nearby chair and indicated he should take a seat. Billy sat with only a moment of hesitation. Backpack now in his lap, Billy fidgeted with the strap, pulling at a loose thread while his eyes shifted back and forth, as if looking for someone. Fear was an easy emotion to recognize when so clearly radiated.
Scooting my chair forward, I bumped our knees together while resting my elbows on my thighs and leaning into Billy’s space. Voice low, I asked, “Are you afraid of the police?”
Billy’s eyes remained steadfast on his hands. “Not particularly. I don’t have much experience. Lucas said the police weren’t bad, just nosey.”
Given what I suspected Lucas Davies’s past was like, I was pleasantly surprised. “I’d say your brother was probably right.”
“Lucas was right about a lot of things,” Billy defended even though I hadn’t suggested otherwise. With a heavy sigh, he added, “He was also wrong about a lot of things too.”
“Can you explain that?” I asked.
“Which part?”
“Both, if you can and are comfortable talking about Lucas.” Billy’s brother was dead, murdered. I don’t care how old you were, that kind of knowledge hits like a sledgehammer to the gut.
Fingers carding through his tousled hair, Billy’s rounded shoulders slumped further. Although he wouldn’t look at me, Billy’s lips were turned up into a slight smile. “Lucas told me Candy’s boyfriends were no good and he was right. They knocked her up and bolted as soon as they found out. That’s not what a responsible man does.” Billy sat up a little straighter and an edge of steel laced his voice.
“Can’t argue that,” I answered. Candy was the oldest of the Davies kids and had two small children of her own and she was barely nineteen.
Billy gave a solemn nod. “Candy and Lucas used to argue like crazy about the guys she hung out with, but Candy wouldn’t listen.”
I figured they argued about more than Candy’s poor taste in men. “And they probably argued about Lucas’s drug use too.” I decided to go out on a limb with that question.
Billy gave a slow nod along with a grimace. “It started out as just a weekend kind of thing and then…”
Billy didn’t have to finish. It was a tale as old as time and one that was just as painfully tragic.
“Lucas always said he could handle it, that it was just for fun, but it wasn’t. Even I could see that.” Billy huffed at the last, as if Lucas had thought either Billy wasn’t old enough or smart enough to understand.
“Drugs are like that. I’ve seen it too many times to count.” I hoped I didn’t sound patronizing. That was the last thing I wanted to do. Billy might only be fourteen, but fewer than five minutes of discussion told me he was streetwise beyond his years. That kind of knowledge came at a heavy price.
“Figures, you bein’ a homicide detective and all.” Billy swallowed hard and bent his head again. “Papa said Lucas didn’t die of an overdose, that he was shot in the head. Is that true?”
“It is.” Given the amount of heroin in Lucas’s body, the ME couldn’t say for certain if Lucas would have died of an overdose. The bullet in his brain hadn’t given the heroin time to be the cause of death.
Billy blew out a heavy breath and his shoulders slumped even further. Voice barely audible, Billy whispered, “Lucas was afraid somethin’ like that might happen. He…he didn’t like what Boggs was doin’.”
“Boggs?” I surreptitiously reached over and grabbed a pad of paper and pen. “Do you know if that’s a first or last name?”
Billy shrugged. “Nope. I only heard him called Boggs.”
Disappointing but not unexpected. “Do you know what he was doing that Lucas didn’t like?”
Billy’s already pale skin turned ashen. “He was sellin’ people. Not to other countries.” Billy’s nose wrinkled with thought. “Not like traffickin’ and shit like that. It was for other things.” Billy sounded distinctly uncomfortable, throwing fertilizer on the sick feeling growing in my gut.
Clearing my throat, I asked, “Sex things?” As shitty as it was, sex and drugs often went hand in hand.
Billy’s agreeing nod was minuscule. “Yeah. That’s what Lucas said. I don’t think he had a problem with it at first, but Boggs kept bringin’ in younger and younger people. Lucas didn’t like that.”
Once again, I found myself in total agreement with our victim. “Your brother was right.”
Billy scrubbed a finger under his nose, sniffing loudly. “Yeah, well, look where that got him,” he huffed. “And now…” Billy’s voice trailed off and his eyes shifted to the side.
“And now what?” Billy’s mouth pinched into a hard line, and he absolutely refused to look at me. Taking a chance, I reached forward, lightly laying my fingers on his hand. “Billy, I want to help you, but you have to help me do that. Do you understand?” I thought he did. Otherwise he wouldn’t have gotten up the courage to walk through our front door.
Chewing on his bottom lip, Billy’s eyes darted around the precinct again before he finally answered, “Boggs sent his guys. They were waitin’ for me outside school.”
I pushed down the low growl bubbling up from my chest. “Were they dealing?” Dealing drugs within so many feet of school grounds was a good way to increase your time behind prison walls.
“No.” Billy shook his head before shrugging and amending, “Maybe. I’m not sure. That’s not what they wanted with me. They…they said that Lucas owed them money when he died and it’s my responsibility to pay it back. If I don’t, then they’ll go after Candy or her kids.” Billy swallowed hard and when he finally looked back at me, his eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “I don’t have that kind of money.”
“And what did they say when you told them that?” I was afraid of the answer. I wish Billy’s next words relieved me of that fear.
“They said that…they said they had ways for me to make it up. One of those guys grinned and he… I didn’t like the way he looked at me. It made me feel sick.” Fear rose with every word Billy said.
My jaw tensed enough I thought my teeth might crack. Pure rage and hatred were not common emotions I indulged in. Currently, they swamped my body and soul in a thick coating of tar. They seeped into every pore and crevice, sticking and gumming up any logical reasoning. Ridding myself of it was difficult, if not impossible. Somehow, I managed to clean enough of it away to work the problem. I didn’t think it was wrong to be furious, but my anger wouldn’t help the boy in front of me. Billy needed me to be better than that.
Inhaling deeply, I slowly counted to five before I asked, “Did these men give you a time frame? Did they indicate when they might be back?”
Chewing on his bottom lip, Billy gave a weak nod. “Thursday. They said I had until this Thursday.” With a desperate head shake, Billy turned pleading, shimmering blue eyes toward me, finally meeting my gaze. “I don’t have that kind of money. Papa doesn’t either. And Candy… Every cent she makes goes toward her kids. We… I don’t know what to do.”
But Billy had known what to do. He’d come to me, and I refused to let him down. “You did the right thing by coming to me. Do you think you remember the men who spoke with you well enough to help one of our artists come up with sketches?”
Billy’s eyes brightened. “Yeah, I think I can do that. I can even tell you how they smelled.” He wrinkled his nose. “Like Papa when he comes home from work, before he’s had a chance to take a shower. Only worse. It was awful.”
If we had a were on staff, Billy’s scent description might have meant more. Once again, I lamented humanity’s lack of foresight. Law enforcement would be so much more effective if we embraced what the other species could offer instead of fearing them.
“Come on, let me take you to see a good friend of mine. You’re gonna like Officer Clara James. She’s a really good artist and sweet as pie.” At the vague mention of food, Billy’s stomach grumbled. “I think there are some cookies or doughnuts in the lounge. Once I get you settled with Officer James, I’ll see what I can find for you. Would you like a soda too?”
Billy immediately perked up. “Coke if you have it.”
“I think I can manage a cold can of Coke.”
With my hand steady on Billy’s shoulder, I walked him down a couple of halls on our way to Officer James’s office. I probably should have called before heading her direction, but James was eight months pregnant and unless she was in the bathroom, she could normally be found at her desk. Along the way, I managed to keep a smile on my face. Only years of practice kept the boiling anger at bay. People like this Boggs were what made the world such a shitty place. They preyed on the disenfranchised, on the addicted, and the desperate. As far as I was concerned, there was no lower form of life. Boggs was going down, and I’d happily be the one to squash him out of existence.