Chapter 18 Arrogance Stupidity
EIGHTEEN
Arrogance + Stupidity
Orla nodded. “Yes. Just the arm. I don’t know if an animal dragged the arm here and the body is somewhere else, though. I was hoping one of you could tell us if you scented the rest of the body nearby.”
Osso and Nick looked around, their heads up, scenting the air. Declan, who seemed to have the strongest nose of anyone here, crouched beside the arm.
“It was frozen.” Declan used a stick to prod at the ripped sleeve covering what looked to be a forearm. “The cut is clean. It’s not easy to cut through flesh and bone.”
Osso crouched down beside him. “You’re right. One hit and the arm was severed.”
“How do you know it was frozen?” I asked.
“I can smell the freezer burn but look here and here.” Declan used the stick to point. “See how the skin is waxy and discolored? Insects have arrived, but only on those spots that have thawed.”
Detective Osso pulled an evidence bag out of his pocket. He turned it inside out, put his hand in, and picked up the arm, securing it in the bag without anyone touching it.
“Do you want me to shift and search?” Declan asked.
Osso looked as though he was considering it but shook his head. “No. A frozen body part with a clean cut doesn’t say an animal dragged a body and gnawed off an arm. This was a dump. We’ll get a crew out here to search the woods to be safe.” He glanced at Orla. “Sorry. We’ll be in your space.”
“I assumed as much,” she replied.
Osso then turned to me. “Can you check? See what you see?”
I’d been hanging back. With all the horrible things I’d seen in life, I wasn’t squeamish in general. That wasn’t it. There was something about the arm that was repellant to me. I pulled the pearl from under my sweater, took off a glove, and held onto it for a moment.
“Do you have her water bottle?” Osso asked Declan.
Orla pointed at the necklace. “Look at that perfect pearl she’s holding. It’s also from the ocean. I assume that does what the water does but in an easier, more socially acceptable way. Is that correct?” she asked me.
I nodded. “It was a gift from my dad.” Staring at the bag in Osso’s hand, I really wished I’d said no and was home in bed.
“You don’t have to do this,” Declan said. “They have crime labs.”
Osso opened his mouth to argue but Declan looked like he was going to punch him, so Osso remained quiet.
“I’m okay.” I didn’t sound convincing even to myself. I waved Osso to me because my legs weren’t interested in getting any closer. Blowing out a breath, I touched a finger to the hand.
“You’re really pretty.” A young man in a brown plaid shirt that matched the arm in the bag stood staring, his eyes glazed. “So pretty.”
“Glad to hear it,” the woman said, humor in her voice.
I tried to do what my father had said. Rolling the pearl between my fingers, focusing on the smooth surface, I tried to move above the action, to see all involved.
It didn’t work. The man and woman were on a hiking path, but he was the only one I could see.
The edge of a parking lot was visible around a tree.
There’s movement behind the spelled young man. A figure in a black hoodie moves from behind a bush. The young man hears the scrape of shoes on the dirt path and begins to turn as the hooded figure brings up a hammer and bashes the young man in the side of the head.
Pain explodes and he’s out.
When his eyes open again, he’s disoriented, his head pounding.
He sees an axe. Unable to resist, his gaze follows its progress up into the air.
When he realizes what’s about to happen, he screams. A moment later, the axe drops, cutting off his arm.
Bellowing in agony, confused and wracked with unfathomable pain, he feels himself losing consciousness as he stares in disbelief at the bloody stump that used to be his arm.
One of the two figures in a dark cement room waves a hand at him and his cry cuts off.
He’s trapped in a nightmare. That’s the only thing that makes sense. He can’t move. Can’t scream. He can only watch two people hold what used to be his arm above a pot over an open flame while his blood drips into their concoction. His vision goes dark as the room thankfully disappears.
Still on my feet, I stumbled away from the evidence bag and would have fallen if Declan hadn’t been there to grab me. Staring at my ungloved hand, I panicked, wanting the residue of black magic off me now.
“I need my backpack.” The whine in my voice had me embarrassed and Declan picking me up and running.
I knew the others were following, but I was focused on that finger not touching either of us. Declan ran us around Orla’s house and to his vehicle. He put me down, opened the rear gate of his Bronco, and took out a black backpack.
“That’s not mine.”
“It’s a backup for when you don’t have yours.” He unzipped the top and took out an identical octopus bottle, this one purple. He unscrewed the lid and poured seawater over my fingers.
I pointed to my wrist, and he splashed my hand up higher. I couldn’t get over the feeling that the black magic was crawling up my skin. Finally clean, I breathed a sigh of relief and leaned into him.
“Are you okay now?” he asked, crushing me to him.
I nodded against his chest.
“What was that about?” Osso asked.
I slipped on my glove, grabbed the backpack, and went to them. Pointing at the stairs, I asked Orla, “Is it okay if I sit here?”
“Of course.” She and Nick went to the bench by the front door.
Declan sat on the top step and spread his legs for me to sit on the second, as protected by his body as he could make me.
As I told them what I’d seen, I pulled a sketchbook and charcoals out of the backpack and started drawing the young man. When I finished, I looked up and found Osso standing at the rail beside Declan, watching me work as he scrolled on his phone.
He tapped the screen and turned it around for me. “Is this him?”
It looked like a graduation portrait. “That’s him. How did you find him so fast?”
“I was going through the missing persons database, trying to match what you were drawing with the images in here. Noah Erickson. He graduated from high school in June. He went missing on a hike at the beginning of July.”
I stared down at my drawing. “That was before Milo brought poison into the gallery. That might have been what they were brewing.”
“Overly complicated,” Orla murmured.
We all turned to her, me leaning on Declan’s leg so I could see around him.
“Why spell a human so you can attack him, drag him to a car, carry him into a basement, and cut off his arm to make poison, when you can go to a shop and buy rat poison.” She shrugged a shoulder.
“I hate those kinds of books. The author’s so busy trying to come up with a convoluted plot no one will guess that they miss the most obvious way to kill someone and get away with it.
Arrogance and stupidity are a dangerous combination. ”
I thought about what the Swans had done so far because in my gut, I knew it was them. “You’re right. It’s all been some weird razzle-dazzle. What’s the point of any of it?”
Declan twirled one of my curls around his finger. “They seemed to be doing Calliope’s bidding, hoping for more power from her demon.”
“Yes, but to Orla’s point, if the goal had been to take me out of the equation so Cal didn’t have to worry about being caught, one of them should have brought a gun and shot me when I was standing on my deck.”
Declan tugged on the curl. “Don’t say that.”
I patted his knee in apology. “Orla’s right, though. They went through all of that with poor Noah to make the poison that Milo dusted my baked goods with. Stupid and sloppy. There were so many ways that plan could fail.”
“And it did,” Osso agreed.
“That type is more dangerous,” Orla said. “They’re unpredictable because they lack logic.”
“I checked my security feed,” Declan said. “Earlier today, I checked to see if we caught the granddaughter on camera trying to curse our home.”
I turned on the step to look up at him.
“She’s on it,” he continued. “So, too, is the wave that knocked her out, but that could be explained as a rogue wave.”
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and searched the camera feeds at the gallery. “There she is. It won’t mean anything to human authorities, but the Wicche Council will recognize what she’s doing right away.”
“What will they do about it?” Nick asked.
I shook my head. “No idea. Catherine Swan, the head of that family, accused my great-uncle of using black magic against her to the Council. We were planning to report them and now we’re going to be fielding accusations.”
“Overly complicated,” Orla said again.
I leaned into Declan. “Maybe we can use that against them.”
“Okay.” Declan stood, pulling me with him. “It’s late. We’re going home.” He turned to Orla. “Thanks for contacting us. Arwyn’s vision isn’t evidence, but now Arthur and Nick know where to focus their investigation.”
“Yeah,” Osso said. “Thanks. Unfortunately, you’re going to have crime scene techs in your woods, but at least these are your awake hours, I guess.” He turned back to me. “You think Milo was the one with the hammer?”
I nodded. “I do. I didn’t see his face clearly, but my gut says it’s the Swan twins, Milo and his sister Milena.”
Declan walked me down the stairs and to the passenger door of his rig.
“Oh, one more thing,” Osso said. “We’re bringing in the FBI on the camp case. The agent is going to want to talk to you.”
I think my insides froze. Shitshitshitshit. “Come on. You can’t do that to me. I’ve been helping you. You can’t throw me to the feds. What the hell?”
It took me a minute to realize the sound I was hearing under my racing heart was Declan growling.
Osso held up a hand. “Relax, the both of you. If we get the agent I asked for, we’re fine. I’ll know better tomorrow.”
Declan was still vibrating behind me. I turned to him and started pushing him back. “There’s no point in getting angry. We’ll deal with whatever it is. Let’s go home. Okay?”
Blowing out a breath, he turned his gold eyes from Osso and back to me. Ushering me gently back to the passenger door, he opened it and helped me in. The door closed without slamming. I heard his low grumble. I couldn’t make out the words. Whatever he said, though, had Osso stepping back.
The drive home was quiet and tense. Exhausted, I wanted to sleep but my mind kept batting around the worry of the FBI taking an interest in me. Nothing like getting punished for trying to help.
Declan reached for my hand. “You know the police and FBI sometimes use psychics. Therefore there’s precedent to recognize your gifts.
If this agent isn’t open to psychic ability and instead wants to treat you like a suspect, you can refuse to help.
I’m sure your mom has a lawyer on speed dial who can get them to back off. It’ll be okay.”
“Yeah, it’s—wait.” How could I have forgotten. “We need to go back to Aunt Elizabeth’s. That pain in the vision was like what I felt when I looked at Frank earlier.”
Declan nodded, continuing to our home. “You’re going to see him tomorrow.
You can talk to him then. I’m sure the family is already on edge right now.
If they’ve hopefully fallen asleep, we don’t need to wake them up.
You warded their home and car. He won’t be out in the open where they can double-team him, especially if Milo is still in jail.
” He turned, driving through the gates of Quinn Woodcraft, circling behind the building, and parking by the back stairs.
“You need sleep too.” He opened his door and came around to mine as I was sliding out. “Let’s try to figure out next steps after we’ve rested.”
I trudged up the steps, worried I was going to miss something and Frank would pay the price.