23. That wasn’t quite right. #2
“We missed blanks from the first investigation?”
“Apparently.”
Huh. I hadn’t thought that was possible. I’d essentially crucified my husband on the cross of his sexiness factor, not that he’d seemed too upset over my blabbing about his prowess. “What did we miss?”
“Who she might have been in league with.”
“Beyond that incubus, I don’t know if she was in league with anyone,” I confessed. “Or if she was, I wasn’t aware of it.”
“That’s what I said, but they think we may have missed something. Well, we did. Who gave Audrey the gorgon dust that infected her with the gorgon virus?”
“I am still having trouble thinking of gorgons as being infected with a virus,” Roberto admitted. “It’s not usually on the CDC’s radar to worry about gorgons infecting humans.”
Quinn scowled. “Because it’s not typically a contagious disease.
Not really. Most gorgons are a natural species.
Gorgon dust is basically a toxin that can change someone into a gorgon—and if the infection is potent enough, it can be spread.
As a general rule, gorgons shun the manufacturing of dust. It involves too much sacrifice—or murdered victims. Or the bodies of a loved one.
I’m concerned over what I saw at that mine. ”
“There were a lot of gorgon bodies,” I whispered. “And a child.”
“And they were likely going to be converted into dust. In a way, I regret you torched that gorgon. I would have enjoyed peeling information out of him.”
“Peeling?” I asked with wide eyes.
“I would have used your potato peeler, the one I picked up at the restaurant store because you saw the demonstration of it tearing through a pineapple.”
“Not my peeler!” I wrinkled my nose. “I hid the rusty one you wanted to get rid of under the sink because I couldn’t bear to throw it away. You could use that one.”
“Alas, we can’t peel information out of the bastard, so we’ll have to be satisfied with thinking about it.”
I considered our conversation. “We’re not good people sometimes, Sam.”
My husband smiled at my use of his first name. “I know, but he got off lightly. He deserved a far worse death than you gave him.”
“So, I killed someone who might have been important.”
“He would have tried to kill Janet. You made the right choice. You made the right choice killing Winfield, too. He definitely would have tried to kill Janet. And the only reason you weren’t killed is because of your heritage. You took an entire ampoule of ambrosia.”
I marveled at my husband’s neutral tone. “Did someone give you a chill pill? Because you are way too chill for this discussion.”
He sighed. “Yes.”
“You’re not a zombie.” I spent a moment admiring him. “You’re very pretty.”
He chuckled. “I’m certainly glad you think so.”
Roberto cleared his throat. “While I know we’re interrupting what’s supposed to be the start of your vacation, it’s critical we figure out how this happened in the first place.”
I chomped on a piece of bacon, sighed, and shrugged.
“It’s obvious that John Winfield got involved because he wanted to get revenge on me and Janet.
I didn’t take sufficient care with his fragile male ego.
He also disliked having to answer to Janet, a woman.
He was a sexist, unprofessional pig. He deserved to be pancaked by an angry unicorn. ”
To make it clear I had zero cares that I’d killed the piece of shit, I stabbed my last pancake with my fork, twisted the utensil, and dunked it into a puddle of maple syrup. I took my time with chewing, too.
My husband raised a brow. “That’s disturbing for even you, Bailey.”
“What we don’t know is when Audrey may have gotten into contact with John Winfield.
This could be relevant,” the FBI goon beside me stated.
I considered asking him for his name, but I opted against it.
If he wanted me to know—or care—who he was, he’d tell me.
Until then, I’d do my part, answer his questions, and hope he left so I could attend to more important matters, mainly my husband.
“Why could it be relevant?” I asked when no one spoke and the silence began to bug me.
“He may have used his connections within the police department to get information on your whereabouts, which ultimately may have led to your kidnapping. In fact, I’m speculating that there may be something to the connection to Chief Morriston, as only the cops directly working with a chief, or other chiefs, would have any reliable data on where a police chief is going.
Chief Quinn, your position would have been monitored, and it would have been very easy to determine where you would have taken your wife the night she was kidnapped.
You have a preference for that hotel, and it’s noted in your file. ”
Quinn’s expression turned neutral, which I recognized as his anger beginning to bubble to the surface. “Winfield wouldn’t have had access to that information, but Morriston would have.”
“Correct. And if you were distracted with a situation dealing with your wife, you would have been in a position to be ousted from your position—or transferred due to poor work performance. Unfortunately, your work performance wasn’t hampered due to your accrued paid vacation time and sick leave.
Even police chiefs have allowances for family emergencies, and the kidnapping of your wife certainly counts.
This is where things become complicated.
If Chief Morriston was involved with your kidnapping, it counts as the assault and interference of a government employee and it would also be considered a deliberate attempt to interfere with law enforcement.
The punishment for this is severe in the state of New York.
Chief Morriston’s rank would make the punishment even more severe. ”
“Do I want to know what an FBI agent considers to be a severe punishment?”
“A complete stripping of all of his memories and a complete rehabilitation as a civilian. If possible, his magical abilities would also be stripped. Chiefs have a great deal of power, but with power comes responsibility. There’s too much potential for corruption.”
“Absolute power corrupts absolutely,” I muttered. “Realistically, what is the probability of this Chief Morriston fellow being involved?”
“Higher than we like. So, have you ever met him before?”
I glanced at Quinn. “Have I?”
“I have no idea.”
I looked the man in the eyes and said, “I have no idea. What does he look like?”
The agent reached across the table, picked up a stack of folders, and flipped through until he located a photograph, which he held out so I could see.
The unfortunately familiar face of one of my father’s friends stared back at me, and I wrinkled my nose. “Oh. Asshole. Yeah. Pimple Pecker. He’s one of my father’s friends.”
My husband’s brows shot up. “Pimple Pecker?”
“He’s in love with his own pecker and needs to invest in a skin treatment plan.
What do you want? I was like five when I came up with it.
I thought I was clever at the time. Anyway, he’s an asshole, and it’s definitely safe to say we have a non-functional relationship.
The last time I saw him, I was sixteen, he grabbed my ass, and I would’ve kicked him in the shins if my father hadn’t been glaring at me at the time. ”
“He grabbed your ass?” my husband asked, his tone dangerously soft.
Crap. I gulped, my eyes widening. “Well, uh. Yes. He’s a dick. And he thinks with his dick. And I may have said some unfortunate things. You know how I am, Sam. I can’t help it!”
“Whatever you said, it wasn’t sufficiently harsh,” Quinn snarled, and he hopped to his feet, walked across the room, and picked up a phone from the computer desk. He dialed a number, and after a pause, he said, “Grandfather, I need you to verify the truth about a situation.”
He hung up, and the archangel popped into existence in a flash of golden light.
“I was wondering how long it would take you to ask for me,” he said.
I made a ward against evil. “Archangels are extra assholes, and as I have a child named Sylvester, you need a new name.”
“You can call me Sariel, as that cat is out of the bag now.” The archangel glared at his grandson. “I can’t believe you brought my brother into this.”
“I didn’t, not exactly.”
“He really didn’t. He bargained with a lesser devil.” I wrinkled my nose.
Quinn sighed. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?
It’s part of our job, Bailey. If a devil gets into trouble on the mortal coil, they can bargain their way out of traditional punishments.
The favor I did was only partially work related; I prevented it from becoming a major incident, so he owed me a direct bargain and something that would help law enforcement in general.
So when that devil couldn’t pay back the bargain, the Devil did, and as it was to help recover Janet, it fit the requirements. ”
Sariel grumbled, and I almost expected the archangel to start cursing. “It annoys me that you speak the truth. He’s going to be absolutely insufferable. And I heard about Easter, you little punk.”
Quinn grinned. “You’re always telling me I should be more open with the family. I am.”
“You’re enjoying this way too much.”
I realized why the archangel was so grumpy, and I pointed and laughed at him. “You like your brother, and you have to admit it, because you’re an archangel and you can’t lie about it. Sucker.”
The archangel sighed. “This is payback for when I chased you around that arena isn’t it?”
It was now. “Yep.”
“All right. What did you need verified?”
My husband looked me in the eyes and asked, “Bailey, is it true that Chief Morriston grabbed your ass when you were a minor?”
“If sixteen counts as a minor, yes. He copped a feel of my breasts when I was fifteen, too. It was an ‘accident’ in the swimming pool.” I wrinkled my nose. “Honestly, I didn’t even remember it until I saw that ass wipe’s picture. He just managed to piss me off.”
“She speaks the truth.”