“Heard about that. Very unfortunate.”
“Is that a yes or a no?” Blake asked.
“Let me handle this, Blake,” I pleaded.
“Fine, I’ll wait outside.”
“I didn’t exactly mean that.”
“Cops,” Andromeda said once Blake had left. “Gracie and Wilma come in here occasionally to have their hair done. Can’t shut those two up.”
“And?”
“Asked me if I knew of anyone from the club who looked capable of a murdering a stranger in town.”
“Stranger?”
“That’s what they think. Anyway, Earle is the only man I’ve ever met who I wouldn’t want to walk in an alley with, if you catch my drift. He’s busted up the place more than once.”
“And he’s never been banned?”
“No one man enough to tell him he’s not welcome, although Earle promised to keep the fights outside the club. He’s a good tipper, so you won’t hear me complaining.”
“Just as long as you only see him in the club,” I finished for her.
“Exactly.”
“Can you tell me anything else about Earle?”
“Don’t know much about him. He’s a mystery -- and he can stay that way for all I care.”
“He was arrested for beating up some cops,” I said.
“I knew he had some redeeming quality.”
“Blake is one of the good ones.”
Andromeda didn’t have a comeback for that, thankfully, because I didn’t feel up to defending Blake further.
“Is there anything else you can tell me about Earle that would make you think he’s capable of murder.”
“I never said that, but he’s certainly big enough to kill someone with his bare hands.”
“Is that all you have?”
“That’s it. Do me a favor and don’t let the cop run my name. I have a warrant I’ve been meaning to take care of. It’s only for unpaid tickets, mind you.”
“You can count on it.” I smiled. “Thank you for talking to us.”
“I needed a break anyway.”
I rejoined Blake outside. “She certainly didn’t help the investigation. You can’t just go around thinking someone is a murderer just because he’s big and might resemble Bigfoot.”
“He has an alibi, so tangling with Earle wasn’t worth the bruises.”
“She also mentioned that the psychics told her a stranger was murdered.”
“We’ll have to check with the coroner.”
“It bothers me that Wilma and Gracie never mentioned a stranger. The only stranger they mentioned was in reference to a man who had the reading. Wilma also claimed he robbed them of their visions.”
“You’re not going to start talking about the paranormal again, are you?”
“Nope. Personally, I think the psychics are nut jobs.”
A vivacious redhead wearing a white lab coat greeted us at the morgue.
“How goes it, Blake?” She smiled.
That seemed a bit informal.
“This is Leslie Cutler,” Blake introduced.
“Alex Frost,” I said dryly.
“No need to get jealous,” Leslie said. “After all, I’m just the coroner.”
“She was my next door neighbor when I was growing up. She’s friends with my sister,” Blake explained.
My brow shot up. “You have a sister?”
“We’re not here to discuss me,” Blake snapped.
“If you want to keep your secret sister to yourself it’s fine by me.” I smiled. “We’re here to find out if you’ve identified the body yet.”
“Are you a new detective?”
“Private investigator.”
“She’s working with me on the case -- off the record,” Blake said.
Leslie walked to a row of chrome doors, opened one and slid the tray out. I had to bite my tongue. It’s not every day that you see a dead body, at least it’s every day that I do.
I glanced back at Blake. “I thought you said the victim was mutilated.”
The man had long dark hair. Leslie moved the sheet lower, showing that a good portion of his abdomen was missing.
I bit my tongue for a moment. “How did he die?”
“He was poisoned.” She pointed out a star-shaped wound in his chest. “Someone shot him with an arrow, a poisoned-dipped arrow.”
Without thinking I said, “You don’t hear of that happening too often.”
“It was mostly likely a hunter.”
“It’s not even hunting season yet,” I said, “and hunters don’t use poisoned arrows.”
“Let me handle the questions,” Blake said stiffly.
“Could a werewolf have killed the victim?” I asked.
“Werewolf!” Blake gasped.
“No, he was poisoned. But an animal might have mutilated the body afterward. A fresh kill attracts predators.”
“Do you have any proof of that?” Blake asked.
“I’ve been testing the DNA I found in the wound, but it’s inconclusive.”
“Then it can’t be human,” I said.
“Or any species that I can confirm,” Leslie added.
“Were you able to identify the victim?” Blake asked.
“He has a tan line around a necklace,” Leslie pointed out.
I walked in further and my eyes widened at the shape. “It looks like he wore a dragon necklace.”
“I thought that too.” Leslie smiled.
“No other identification?”
“He has unusual markings on his back. Blake, snap on some gloves and help me turn the body.”
Blake frowned but he gloved up and assisted Leslie. Near the shoulder blades were two long wounds.
Fourteen
I wrinkled my nose and snapped my eyes open to Leslie and Blake looking down at me. “What happened?” I asked meekly.
“You fainted,” Leslie said as she helped me to a sitting position. “Are you feeling okay or should we call an ambulance?”
“I’m fine,” I gasped as Blake and Leslie helped me off the floor. I was trembling but trying not to show it. “Sorry. I’m not used to seeing corpses.”
“Blake, you should probably take her home. I can discuss this with you when you come back.”
“No, I’d rather stay,” I insisted.
“She’s right,” Blake said to me. “And I insist.”
“But I don’t want to miss anything.”
“I promise you can yell at me later for not letting you stay.”
Blake led me back to my car. I would have protested but I felt weak.
“Are you OK to drive?” he asked.
I simply nodded as I turned the key.
I locked my condo door before collapsing on the sofa. All I could see when I closed my eyes was the body. His wounds were similar to mine. If he was killed with a poisoned arrow that meant someone was hunting him. It made sense now that I knew he was a dragon. The man couldn’t be from here, and neither could the hunter. It seemed that the victim was fleeing from wherever he lived to avoid the hunter. I couldn’t give Blake a heads up about it. He’d already proved he doesn’t believe in the paranormal. Neither did I until I met a werewolf and whatever his sister was.
I hurried downstairs and retrieved the book the psychics lent me. Back inside my condo, I opened it. I pressed a hand against the dragon necklace I wore as I thumbed through the pages and every muscle in my body froze as I read. “Curse of the Dragon.” I moved my finger along several other passages. “It is foretold that a dragon when faced with imminent death enters a human’s body upon his death unbeknownst to the human. The dragon is the great influencer and compels the human to do his bidding, affording the human with dragon-like abilities. The ability to breathe fire and wings to spout forth are bestowed upon the human for protection and not for evil intent.”
I gasped at the illustrations of a human with dragon wings who breathed fire with sword in hand. The next page told a tale in pictures of a hunter with a g
olden bow and arrows. The sword was swung and the arrows fell like dust in the hunter’s hand. The hunter lay dead on the next page.
I couldn’t kill anyone even if they meant me harm. I wasn’t build that way.
It came from him, the dragon inside me. He compelled me to search for what the victim had hidden -- the sword. It’s the only thing that made sense. I turned the next page and my finger moved along the jagged edge where a page had been ripped from the book. Someone had intended to keep a secret from me. Had Gracie deliberately ripped the page out before she gave me the book? Something important was on that page. Was there a way to set the dragon free?
I might be cursed by the dragon, but that didn’t mean I’d just sit and wait to see what would happen next. I had to bring the murderer to justice and that might mean I’d be putting myself in the crosshairs of the hunter once he found out what I was.
I carried the book under my arm into the psychics’ doublewide. I handed the book to Gracie. “Thanks, interesting reading.” I frowned. “But why did you suggest I take the book?”
“It’s in your eyes. I know the eyes of a reptile when I see them.”
I felt my smooth chin half expecting to feel scales. “It’s missing a page.”
Gracie bit her lower lip and handed the book off to Wilma, who put on her glasses and examined the book. She hummed and clucked her tongue at the missing page. “And you say the page was already ripped out?”
“Yes.”
Gracie turned her head to look at me. “Are you certain someone didn’t remove the page before you had a chance to look at the book?”
“I don’t see how when I kept it hidden until right before I came over.”
“Did you hide it with the sword?” Wilma asked. “If so, I’m afraid it’s long gone now.”
“It wasn’t hidden with anything else.” I wasn’t about to suggest they were right about the sword. How could they be sure I had it?
“So you didn’t remove the page before you gave it to me, Gracie?”
“Why we didn’t even know you were coming over,” Gracie said.
It wasn’t clear she was telling the truth. “Is there anything you’re keeping from me?”
Both sisters shook their heads, and I thanked them before leaving. It was a long time before I could think about anything other than that I was cursed to house the dragon. If he found his way in, he could find his way back out. And I had a hunch the missing page contained everything I needed to know how to make that happen.
I checked where I had hidden the sword and it was just where I’d left it. I quickly put my closet back together when the door buzzer sounded.
I hurried to door and looked through the keyhole at Blake’s tense face.
I opened the door with a frown. “Why does everyone seem to find their way past the security door downstairs?”
“Someone let me in. Nice young man who apparently doesn’t care much for you. He went on and on about how I should end my involvement with you.”
“So you met Mr. Asshole. How nice.”
“He has a name -- Carl. I didn’t catch his last name. Have you ever thought of playing nice with Carl?”
“You’re in jeopardy of getting the door slammed in your face.”
“I have some information that you’ll be interested in.”
Blake’s jaw squared and I motioned him inside.
I pulled out two colas and joined Blake at the table.
“Glenn Miller,” Blake said as he slid a file to me.
“Glenn Miller the big band trombonist, arranger, and bandleader from the swing era?” I smiled. “Sorry, my grandmother loved Glenn Miller.”
“He’s the victim from the woods.”
I felt my heart drop. “The coroner just told us she couldn’t identify the body.”
“His wallet was found near the scene. It contained the number of his brother. Glenn’s brother had reported him missing last week.
“Good. I mean, at least we have a lead now. Where does the brother live?”
“Port City. He’ll be in town this evening.”
“Where are we meeting him?”
“He’s coming to the station and I’ll be the one interviewing him. I don’t want you anywhere near the station.”
“Why? I thought we were a team.”
“I’m a detective and you’re a private investigator. I can’t allow you into an interview room at the station of all places.”
“Then I’ll have to wait until he’s not at the station.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. The man just lost his brother.”
“Has the coroner been able to confirm the remains are Glenn Miller?”
“She’s testing now, but his description matches. He was staying at the Dew Drop Inn. They packed up the man’s belongings when Glenn didn’t come back to his room or check out.”
“How did you learn that?”
“The brother told us where he was staying when we contacted him. We picked up the victim’s possessions and brought them to the coroner. She was able to get a sample of the man’s DNA from his belongings. Leslie promised she’ll have the findings this evening.”
I parted ways with Blake in the parking garage and drove to the police station.
I hoofed it and slid into the morgue, where I found coroner Leslie Cutler hard at work labeling samples. She had her back to me as she then scrubbed her hands.
I cleared my throat and Leslie turned, her brows knitted. “Blake must have told you I’ve identified the body thanks to the missing person report. And a little help from the DNA on his clothing.”
“So you were able to positively identify the body?” I asked.
“It’s not surprising that Blake didn’t tell you.” A slight line formed on Leslie’s delicate brow.
“He told me you hadn’t positively identified the body yet.”
“Blake is a good detective,” Leslie said.
“I’m not arguing with you. Do you have the name of the next of kin?”
“You’ll have to ask Blake.”
“Please,” I muttered. “It’s important I find the killer.”
“It’s important for Blake as well.”
“Thanks.” I turned to leave, feeling the heat rise in my throat.
“Hugh Miller. Deputy Mayor Hugh Miller of Port City. So now you understand how sensitive a case this has become for Blake.”
I turned and locked eyes with Leslie. “Blake can play footsie with him if he wants while I find the killer.”
I left the morgue wishing Blake hadn’t kept the truth from me. He could have forewarned me about Hugh’s title, but that wouldn’t stop me from investigating. I was looking forward to questioning Hugh when it was time.
I guzzled my bottled water back at my car and shuddered as bluish smoke drifted from my nostrils. Anger certainly affected my inner dragon. I needed to channel it before I had to use it to protect myself.
The Dew Drop Inn was located near Naughty Divas. The dilapidated two-story motel charged by the hour. Certainly not the sort of place the brother of a deputy mayor would stay, unless he had a reason to keep a low profile.
But why hide the sword and not use it to defend himself? Glenn must have been able to breathe fire and sprout wings. It should have been enough to protect himself. No, there was a reason he chose to defend himself by other means.
I strolled through the office door where an older woman caked in makeup worked behind protective glass. I tapped on the glass and she turned on a two-way speaker.
“Is there someone I can speak to about one of your former guests?”
“Living or dead?” She smiled an evil grin.
“Glenn Miller. I was told he abandoned his room and belongings.”
“You don’t look like a cop.”
“Private investigator.”
I walked through the door at the buzzing and found myself in a cramped room that contained only a reception desk and computer chair -- minus the computer. I spotted the basic
paper register. The clientele most likely appreciated the anonymity offered here.
“What’s your name, honey?” the woman asked.
“Alex Frost.”
The woman popped on bifocals and surveyed my frame. “You look like the waitress at Hunan’s.” She smiled. “I go there for takeout.”
“That’s me, or it used to be. Now I’m a private investigator.”
“I can’t imagine that big shot brother of Glenn’s sent you here. He made good on his brother’s bill and paid us extra to close our traps.”
“Then why are you talking to me?”
“You have an interesting face, especially those eyes. Are you related to Glenn?”
“Nope.”
“His eyes were unusual too.”
I cursed under my breath. Here we go. “You mentioned that Glenn abandoned his room. When did he check in?”
“Last Friday.”
“How long was it before you noticed he was missing?”
“The housekeepers noticed. He tipped them well,” she said. “I didn’t become aware until he overstayed his welcome and didn’t pay up. Packed up his belongings a few days after.”
“And you didn’t toss them out?”
“Usually keep them for about a week. Our clientele have a habit of showing up later to gather their belongings -- the ones still alive and kicking.”
“Who picked up his belongings?”
“The cops picked them up. But when Hugh paid the bill, he told us his brother had been missing for about a week.” She frowned.
“You don’t believe him?”
Her lip curled. “Shame Mr. Deputy Mayor had to come to a place like this and ask about his brother. I bet he thinks he’s too good for us working stiffs. Just because hookers and drug dealers frequent the place don’t mean we deserve to be judged.”
“He’s the deputy mayor of Port City, not Westland.”
“Oh, I think you’re right. Anyway, what I was gonna say was that Glenn wasn’t like his brother. He was better looking than that freckled brother of his, in a brooding sort of way. And the housekeepers gave his room more attention.”
“I suspect that’s why he left them big tips.”
Curse of the Dragon Page 10