Chapter 3
The light rain trickles down the windowpanes in thin streams as I stand alone in my office, staring out at the grey clouds. Viv’s pack of cigarettes that I took from the crime scene sits on the desk behind me, and I’m desperate to slide one of them out of the packet and have a smoke.
The last few days have passed in a bit of a blur.
I’ve been so caught up in the investigation I’ve barely seen Harrison.
After Maddie and I found Viv’s body, the new detective, Byrnes, dragged me down to Scotland Yard and kept me in an interview room for hours, making it painfully obvious that he considers me a suspect.
It’s not like I could tell him the truth about why Maddie and I were there in the first place.
Even as I was answering Detective Byrnes’ questions, I could hear how unconvincing our story sounded, but really, what choice did we have?
If there was a better way to explain our presence, I couldn’t think of it.
I wish Danny would hurry back. They’ve been snowed in at that Yorkshire hotel for days. Not that he’ll be much help; Byrnes has already been assigned Viv’s murder case, but one more person on the inside at Scotland Yard won’t hurt. If nothing else, it’ll at least give Maddie some backup.
Scratching my jaw thoughtfully, I continue to stare out into the gloomy street.
It doesn’t help clear my cluttered thoughts though.
I scrub a hand over my face in frustration.
It feels like I’m missing something important about the murder.
It’s right there at the edge of my mind, but every time I grasp for it, it dances out of reach.
With an annoyed exhale, I turn away from the window. Staring at the dreary weather is not going to help my mood.
I drop down into the chair, making it first creak alarmingly and then clunk. Fuck, maybe it’s time to replace it, or the next time I sit down, I may end up flat on my arse, sprawled out across the floor.
Shaking my head, I absently move some papers around my desk until my mind begins to drift again, and my restless fingers tap against the desktop.
A sudden noise has me looking up just as my office door opens and Danny steps through.
I glance behind him, expecting to see Tristan too, but no, he’s alone.
Danny looks exhausted. His blond hair is a mess, like he’s run his fingers through it too many times, and the dark shadows under his eyes highlight how pale his skin is.
“You’re back, then?” I mutter as he closes the door behind him with a quiet click.
“They finally cleared the snow enough for us to get to the main road. Traffic was a nightmare. We got in about an hour ago.”
“Where’s Tristan? I’d have expected him to be with you still.”
“He’s with Chan and Dusty.” Danny raises his hand and rubs the back of his neck, rolling his shoulders stiffly and wincing. “He feels guilty.”
“Why?”
He crosses the room and drops down into the chair on the opposite side of my desk. “I think a lot of it is left over from what happened during the eclipse. We should’ve known sooner what was going on with her, should’ve asked questions and protected her. Now she’s dead.”
I shake my head. “It’s not your fault or Tristan’s. Viv was a very private person. If she didn’t reach out for help, she probably had what she thought was a very good reason.”
Opening the drawer, I pull out a half-empty bottle of whiskey and two glasses. Danny’s not really one for hard liquor, so it’s a testament to his current state of mind that he doesn’t object when I pour two shots and hand one to him.
I watch as he releases a slow sigh and then takes a sip. He swallows and stares at the glass for a moment. When he finally lifts his eyes to mine, his gaze is filled with determination.
“Okay, what do we know about Viv’s murder so far?”
“At the moment”—I swirl the amber liquid in my glass before taking a sip myself—“not much. After we found her body, Maddie called it in. They turned up surprisingly fast. I wanted more time to look over the scene.”
My gaze falls to the cigarette packet with my name and the four-digit number scribbled on it, but for some reason, I don’t mention it.
It’s not like I’m actively trying to keep information from my closest friend, but until I know what it means, it’s not worth mentioning.
It may not even mean me; it could be another Sam.
“Has the post-mortem been done yet?” Danny asks, and I shake my head.
“I’m not sure. If it has, Maddie hasn’t mentioned it, but I doubt she’d have been able to get her hands on the report.”
“What? Why?”
“You know we told you about that new detective, Byrnes?”
Danny nods. “I haven’t met him yet.”
“That’s probably a good thing, according to Maddie. He doesn’t hold you in very high regard.”
“But he doesn’t know me.” Danny frowns.
I shrug. “I wouldn’t take it personally.
The guy comes across as a bit of a prick.
I can understand them giving me and Maddie the third degree at the crime scene, we were standing over a dead body at four o’clock in the morning, and it was obvious we hadn’t just stumbled upon it by chance.
Holding me for questioning for hours? Yeah, that may also make sense, but I honestly wanted to punch him in the face by the end of it. He’s a real dick.”
“What exactly did you tell him?”
“We both stuck to pretty much the same story. You and Tris got stuck up north and were worried about Viv when you couldn’t get any answer from her.
We told them you called Maddie, and she asked me to tag along because I know Viv.
Maddie thought it was better that way, less suspicious than telling them I was the one checking up on Viv, but I think it’s just caused more problems. Byrnes is trying to shut Maddie out of the investigation every chance he gets. ”
“Jesus,” Danny breathes out. “I can imagine how she reacted to that.”
I stare down at my desk, realising that I’m once again tapping my fingers against the loose papers.
“What?” Danny says after a moment.
I shake my head and scowl. “I don’t know. I have this weird feeling about the whole situation, but especially about the murder itself.”
“I get it. We’ve both seen our fair share of murder investigations, but this isn’t something either of us have ever dealt with before.”
I rock back in my chair and wince as it gives another alarming groan of protest. Taking another sip of my drink, I feel the burn as it slides down my throat.
I glance up at the damp stain on the ceiling and try to organise my chaotic thoughts.
“You should’ve seen her, Danny.” I swallow hard.
“The killer took their time with her, drew these weird symbols all over her body. I’ve never seen anything like it, but the worst part was her mouth—” I break off, trying not to think about the ugly looping stitches of thick red cord sealing her mouth closed.
“Tristan’s been talking to Dusty about that. They think it’s some kind of curse or spell to stop her from talking in the afterlife. When Viv appeared to Tristan in that hotel room at the Ashton-Drake, he said she didn’t have a mouth at all, just a symbol where her lips used to be.”
“Begs the question, doesn’t it?” I twist my glass in absent circles on my desk. “What were they afraid she was going to say after she died, and more importantly, who did they think she was going to say it to?”
Danny’s gaze sharpens. “Do you think her killer knows about Tristan? That he can see ghosts?”
I scratch my thumbnail absently over a tiny chip in my whiskey glass.
“Too soon to tell, but I think it pays to be cautious. If the killer was watching her for a while before he killed her—or worse, if it’s someone we know—they could be aware that all three of us, me, Tristan, and Harrison, are capable of communicating with Viv after her death. ”
“Fuck.” Danny takes another large gulp of his drink.
“Look, right now we don’t have enough information, but you can rest assured that Tristan has one kick-ass dead drag queen plus one live and viciously protective ex-drag queen to guard him. Do you really think either Chan or Dusty would allow anything to happen to him?”
“No”—Danny’s mouth twitches—“and I feel sorry for anyone who tries to get past those two.” Then he sighs. “You’re right. Dusty was sent back specifically to protect Tristan, and I guess it does slightly ease my mind, but that still leaves you and Harrison.”
“I can take care of myself. It’s Harrison I’m worried about.”
Danny blinks slowly. “Because he’s a witch and the killer used magic? I would’ve have thought Harrison could take care of himself on that score.”
“I know,” I murmur, not wanting to explain to Danny how I feel about Harrison, especially when I’m not sure I understand it myself. Yet. “I’m not saying he can’t protect himself, but it could make him a target, especially if…”
“If what?”
I shake my head again. “Nothing. It’ll sound stupid.”
“Stupid is relative right now, so you may as well say what you’re thinking. I mean, our lives aren’t exactly normal, are they?”
I pause, trying to come up with the words to describe the strange feeling deep in my gut. “I feel like this might only be the beginning, a small piece of the whole.”
“What do you mean?”
I can tell by the look on Danny’s face that he’s confused, and he’s not the only one. I can’t seem to make my thoughts align, but I try anyway.
“I haven’t had this psychic ability that long, a year or so at most. It’s not like I grew up with it like Harrison did, so it’s not always reliable.
Just remember that. But for months before I left London to go back home, I got this feeling.
Kinda like precognition, maybe? I don’t think that’s entirely the right word.
There was just this gut-deep feeling that something was changing.
Then with the cases I was investigating, I began seeing a pattern. ”
“A pattern?”