Chapter 1 #2
“Let’s just say I believe you.” She holds up her hand when I open my mouth to speak again. “I’m not saying I do. Just…hypothetically, if there were”—she closes her eyes as if uttering the next word pains her—“ghosts filling the shop, then they must’ve seen who did this to Viv.”
I shake my head. “Like I said, none of them are around, so I can’t ask.”
“Convenient.”
“Nothing about this is convenient.”
I frown and rub my hand over my face, wishing desperately I was back in Harrison’s bed, all wrapped around him and breathing in the scent of his warm skin rather than stuck at a crime scene, trying to convince Danny’s partner that the afterlife is real.
Before either of us can say another word, the front door opens and we both turn as a middle-aged man in a suit enters, followed by police officers and crime scene techs.
Maddie frowns. “Who are you?”
“Detective Wilkes,” the man replies with a smirk.
“No that’s me.” She crosses her arms. “Where’s Detective Mckinnon?”
“Busy.” The man shrugs. “I’m Detective Byrnes, just transferred to the Yard.” He looks at me. “I thought Detective Hayes was on leave?”
“He is,” Maddie replies. “This is Sam Stone. Formerly of the West Yorkshire police force but now a private investigator.”
“I didn’t realise Scotland Yard was so understaffed they had to resort to”—his brow rises as he stares at me—“outsourcing.”
I instantly dislike him and I don’t think I’m the only one judging from the way Maddie is now glaring at him.
I can tell he meant that to sound as insulting as possible, but I really couldn’t care less what this tosser thinks.
One of the techs beckons me out of the way and I take a step back.
Then Maddie inches around the body and moves to stand next to me while Byrnes is momentarily distracted by an officer speaking to him in a low, hushed tone.
“Well, he already looks like he’s going to be a barrel of laughs. Wanna tell him you see dead people?” she mutters to me.
As the officer nods and heads towards the door, Byrnes’ gaze dips to Viv’s body and then back to Maddie and me. “Would either of you care to explain?”
Before I can say anything, Maddie says, “Viv here was a friend of Detective Hayes and his boyfriend, Tristan.”
I see a tiny flash of disgust cross his face, then he schools his features once more into a cool but mild interest.
Homophobic wanker.
“Danny and Tris were worried when they couldn’t reach Viv, so they asked me to check in on her.”
I jolt slightly at her trying to draw suspicion away from me. It feels wrong but it’s probably the most sensible thing to do. If I’m going to figure out what happened to Viv, the last thing I need is some newbie Scotland Yard detective all over my arse.
“At four in the morning?” His tone is laced with suspicion.
“What can I say? Danny knows I’m an early riser.” She stares back at him, her tone flat.
“That doesn’t explain Mr Stone’s presence.”
I give a cool smile. “I’m an early riser too.”
I’m not too worried about being polite to this guy. I met his type a dozen times over during my time with the police. Small-minded, petty, and most likely high on his own self-importance.
Am I making assumptions? Yes, I am. Have I been proven wrong before? It’s not unheard of. But there’s something about this man that rubs me the wrong way. I just can’t put my finger on it.
Just by looking at Viv, I can tell this is going to be outside Scotland Yard’s sphere of experience.
It’s going to come down to Danny and me solving this one—with Maddie’s help if she’s up for it.
That is, unless Scotland Yard has investigators who specialise in magic and the occult, which I highly doubt. Besides, Viv was our friend.
“I asked Sam to keep me company. Since Viv knew Sam, I thought she’d feel more comfortable than if I brought a stranger with me,” Maddie says to Byrnes, striving for some semblance of professionalism.
“I arrived first and waited outside until Sam joined me. Shutters were up, but the lights were out and the front door was unlocked. The only thing we touched was the light switch by the door when we came in. As soon as I saw Viv, I called it in.”
“Who touched the light switch?”
“I did,” I answer, watching as the techs, having taken photos, begin to process her body.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
It’s a hell of a way to go. I hope she was already gone when her killer stitched her mouth shut. I note the lack of defensive wounds on her hands and the symbols on her body. She was most likely dead before he started treating her corpse like his—or her—own personal doodle pad.
Maddie and I are shoved further back against the cash desk as more officers and techs swarm around the scene. It hurts to see Viv like this. I want to cover her up, give her some dignity, not let them treat her like some sort of exhibit.
I startle when Maddie grasps my forearm comfortingly and gives it a little squeeze. When I meet her eyes, they’re filled with understanding.
“Let them work, Sam,” she says quietly. “The quicker they finish, the quicker we can move her somewhere more private.”
I nod and turn away. “I’m going to get some air.”
Byrnes’ voice cuts through my thoughts. “Don’t go too far, Mr Stone. You’ll be coming down to the Yard to make a statement.”
“Fine,” I snap, stalking past him and out the door.
Two police officers stand guard outside the entrance, so I walk a little further down the street and stop by another empty shop. I lean back against its cold brick wall and reach into my pocket, pulling out Viv’s cigarettes and lighter that I swiped from the cash desk.
I help myself to a cigarette knowing Viv wouldn’t have minded.
The lighter is a strange one, heavier than most and with some kind of bronze plating in the shape of a mermaid on it.
She’s lounging on rocks, and even in the dim light she’s so lifelike that her long hair seems to be actually swaying in an unseen breeze.
I snort and shake my head. It’s so Viv to have something like this rather than a cheap plastic one from the closest corner shop.
Cupping my hands, I light the cigarette and take a long drag. My head falls back against the brick wall as I exhale and watch the smoke coil upward.
The feel of magic in the air has lessened now. Inside the shop, it’s still really fucking potent, but outside it seems to have begun to dissipate. My skin still prickles like the air is charged with electricity though.
I take another couple of drags while the events of the night roll over in my mind.
Once the cigarette is down to a stub, I drop it to the ground, grinding it out under my heel.
Slipping the lighter into my pocket, I head towards the nearest bin to toss the rest of the packet.
It took me ages to quit smoking in the first place.
It’s probably not a good idea to start again now, especially not when I’m trying to support Mum’s recovery by being healthier myself.
Just as I’m about to toss the packet into the bin, something written on the back of it catches my eye in the dim light. Retrieving my phone from my pocket, I switch the flashlight on. As the glow highlights the letters and numbers, my breath catches in my throat.
It reads SAM 4532.
Does she mean me? And if she does?—
What the fuck is that supposed to mean?