Chapter 17 #3
The men considered my question, and while they did that, I headed for the piles of jewelry, donned a new pair of gloves, and began the tedious work of sorting, taking pictures, and preparing the evidence.
Understanding there wouldn’t be a trial helped prevent a serious case of nerves, although I disliked the understanding I beheld a rather dark inheritance—one I would do my best to turn to light.
Madam Merorie’s precious jewels would fund cases I would refuse to accept pay for.
I would work with charities or establish one of my own to help her living victims, assuming we could find any of them.
Change always had to begin somewhere with someone, and I would make change begin with me.
I would take the wealth I felt I hadn’t earned and transform it into something capable of helping others.
I would be the opposite of Madam Merorie and her twisted clan.
Pascal heaved the sort of sigh that warned me I’d opened a can of worms we would all need to deal with.
“There are many possibilities, but I’m going to go with the most romantic of them.
After she figured out how to raise their son from the dead, she would have raised her beloved mate from the dead, either using Krikolios’s remains in the attempt or presenting them as a prize to give them both power. ”
I shivered at the thought of Madam Merorie acquiring the power of an ancient dragon. “We dodged a bullet then, didn’t we?”
“I feel we did. Let’s finish checking this casket for secrets, and then we’ll get all this carted back to the station to be properly registered and make it clear the bones and dagger are yours and won’t be held as evidence.
Honestly, the evidence stage won’t last long.
The law here is pretty clear about things like this.
That she did not inter her husband’s body with these treasures doesn’t make this a gravesite, so the property becomes yours.
Had his body been in here, everything except the bones and daggers would have been deemed his grave goods and reburied with him.
Try not to stress over it. This won’t be the first nor the last time one dragon lost their wealth to another dragon breaking laws they had no business even bending.
” The black dragon patted my shoulder. “Take the bones home, put them somewhere safe, and focus on the trafficking situation. I think we’ve found all we’re going to find here. ”
* * *
Monday, May 25, 2167
Death Mile
Dragon Heights, Wyoming
A lucky drop of a phone into the casket revealed one final secret.
The wooden and dull sound caught our attention, and as the clumsy individual responsible for the discovery, I got to make use of a crowbar to attempt to dismantle the bottom.
My first few attempts bore no fruit, but a frustrated jab and some extra elbow grease busted me through the layer.
Once I could get the hook under the broken edge, the whole thing came up with relative ease, revealing a series of notebooks, papers, and leather tomes.
I whistled, especially as several of the tomes bore clear evidence of runic writing.
Runic writing tended to be the domain of magic, ancient in form and preferred by many, necromancers included. “Hello, hello, hello. What do we have here?”
“Evidence, apparently,” Pascal said, and he grabbed a new pair of gloves while grinning. “This could be her research material, kept safe.”
“Or contracts with the traffickers.” I eyed the tomes. “Does it make me a coward to admit I don’t want to touch these?”
“It makes you sensible.” Pascal nudged me aside, reached into the casket, and began with the largest of the tomes.
When nothing happened, I breathed a sigh of relief.
He snickered at me, carried it over to one of the empty sheets on the grass, and set it down.
“Warding magic is expensive, exhausting, and doesn’t often last long, Kinsley.
It’s highly unlikely a tome hidden in a casket that’s been here for a rather long time is going to be protected.
Now, I’d be careful if I went into a living dragon’s home and they didn’t want you there.
Many colors have access to variants of warding magics.
Tin dragons, for example, can lock doors so that only they can open them.
Most just like to think of them as the gods of can opening. ”
“I am a goddess at opening jars,” I informed Pascal in a cool tone. “It is the most practical and useful of my abilities, as I quite enjoy pasta sauce. I have yet to meet a jar capable of defeating me.”
“Spoken like a proper tin dragon. Anyway, it’s unlikely the books have any wards on them.
They were hidden well, and if you hadn’t dropped your phone, we wouldn’t have had any clue there was a hidden compartment in the bottom.
” Pascal shot the wealth of jewelry and dragon bones a foul glare.
“She was wise in her choice of distractions, I’ll give her that.
I certainly wouldn’t have checked for a secret compartment after locating all that in the casket.
I will be learning from my mistake and testing every future casket for things like this. ”
I picked up one of the binders and opened it to discover an accounting ledger from shortly before her husband’s death. “I spy with my little eye interesting financial information.”
“Let’s get that all gathered up and to the station. It’s time to start unveiling what that woman wanted to hide.”