Chapter Five #2
I glanced at Cunningham, and yep, he’d definitely noticed if the way his jaw tensed was any indication.
Wow. That guy really hated me.
Sola rubbed my cheek with hers, clearly trying to make me feel better.
Her magic wrapped around me, encircling me in an invisible protective shield—she clearly didn’t like that guy’s attitude either.
I gave her some scritches in thanks and took a breath.
With her magic giving me a boost, this should be easier than it used to be.
Hopefully.
Ignoring Cunningham to the best of my ability, I let my empath power out again. His emotions rushed at me, but I pushed past them, keeping them at the back of my mind with all the other noise, and let my magic flow out of me and into the interrogation room.
My magic was familiar with Higgins after years of doing this, so I wasn’t surprised when I watched the purple haze float around him easily. His emotions hit me—relief, annoyance, frustration, hopefulness—but I shoved those into the back of my mind with the others.
Then my magic reached Paul Ferguson, and it was like it balked at him, not wanting to get near his aura. My magic wasn’t a separate entity or anything; it was an extension of myself, so I supposed I was the one who balked at the idea of letting this man’s emotions overpower me.
But I pushed on, letting myself get lost in the emotions, letting go of everything else as I concentrated on the disgusting human being on the other side of the glass.
Excitement, guilt, stress, giddiness.
Who in the hell was giddy when they were in the middle of a damn police interrogation?
My eyes were hooded as I concentrated on my magic more than my surroundings, but I still watched and listened to Higs and Ferguson. It was almost like they were underwater and Ferguson’s emotions were the only thing above water, the only thing coming in completely clear.
Higgins pushed a photograph across the table, tapping it with his finger as he spoke. “Listen, Mr. Ferguson, I need you to be straight with me. Why were you and these three delivery workers taking boxes out of your sanctuary in the middle of the night?”
Ferguson scoffed. “I told you already. They gave me expired food, so they were taking it back.”
Fear, guilt, stress, delight—delight at deceiving someone.
Lie.
A vision crossed my mind’s eye, and I sucked in a breath.
A cage filled with a brown ball of fur curled up in the corner—was that a gremlin?—was forced into a brown cardboard box while the little creature shook with fear.
“Why are we putting them in boxes? They’re already in cages,” a strange voice asked from behind.
“Do you really wanna risk someone seeing them if you’re pulled over?”
Paul Ferguson’s voice rang loud and clear before the vision floated away.
I shook my head, trying to get rid of the memory so I could concentrate on the here and now.
“For three nights in one week?” The tone of Higgins’s voice told everyone exactly how ridiculous he thought that was.
The man shrugged. “It was a lot of bad food. Couldn’t fit it all in one load.”
Fear, guilt, stress, delight. Deception.
Lie.
“How long have you been using this company?” Higgins sighed and shuffled his paperwork, acting as if he didn’t know the name of it even though I had no doubt he’d memorized every word, every photo, in that file. “Uh… Faerie Friends Food Supply.”
“A few years. Maybe two or three, I dunno. I’d have to check my paperwork.”
Fear, guilt, stress, delight. Deception.
Lie.
Higgins pointed at a photo. “What are the names of your delivery workers?”
Ferguson rolled his eyes. “Do you know the names of everyone who delivers crap to your door? I have no idea who they are.”
Fear, guilt, stress, delight. Deception.
Lie.
“Where did you find this company?”
“No idea. Someone must’ve recommended them or something.”
Fear, guilt, stress, delight. Deception.
Lie.
Even though I knew Higgins knew this guy was lying, I still pulled out my phone and texted him.
Me: Everything he’s said so far is a lie. They were taking faeries out of the sanctuary. There are cages hidden inside those boxes.
I knew he wouldn’t question how I knew that. He trusted that I’d give him accurate information. But unfortunately, nothing I felt or saw was admissible in court. But at least it gave us a clear idea of what was going on… and hopefully how to stop these monsters.
Higgins read my text but didn’t reply, obviously.
“We know you were taking faeries out of your sanctuary and hiding them in those boxes.”
The man scoffed. “You have no proof of that because it’s a straight-up lie.”
Glee, glee, glee. Deception.
Lie.
“Mr. Ferguson, Faerie Friends Food Supply doesn’t exist. They’re not a registered business. They don’t have a website. They don’t even have a phone number. So tell me again, where did you find them?”
The horrible man leaned forward and punctuated every word and a finger stab to the table. “I. Have. No. Idea.”
Fear, guilt, stress, delight. Deception.
Lie.
“How do you place your orders?”
“I fill out a form and send it to them through email.”
Fear, guilt, stress, delight. Deception.
Lie.
For fuck’s sake, the guy couldn’t tell a single truth during this interview?
“Alright, write down that email so we can look into it.”
“I don’t have it memorized.” Ferguson let out a chuckle. “I don’t have it on me.”
Fear, guilt, stress, delight. Deception.
Lie.
“Surely you have their phone number saved in your phone?”
“Nope.” He popped his P, a glint in his eyes like he was excited to be pulling one over on Higgins.
Deception.
Lie.
Higgins continued his questioning.
Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie.
Every single thing Paul Ferguson said was a damn lie, and honestly, it was starting to give me a headache.
But I pressed on, concentrating on this piece of shit human who was clearly trafficking faeries.
I said I would help, so here I was. Helping.
Not that it would make any difference at all.
Anyone with a single brain cell could tell the man was lying through his teeth.