“Hey, sleepyhead.” Clay glanced up from his screen and rubbed his dry eyes. “Everything okay?”
A notable absence in the room caused me to reconsider my answer. “Where’s Asa?”
“Doing a perimeter check.” He stretched his arms over his head. “He’s been out there maybe five minutes.”
“Ah.” I joined him at the table. “I sensed a disturbance through the wards.”
“Sorry about that.” Clay swept his gaze over me. “I didn’t realize you were that sensitive.”
“Paranoia,” I said by way of explanation, and he grunted understanding. “Any updates?”
“We heard from Malone.” He leaned back in his chair. “He said the fuel used in the generator is a match for what he smells at the kill sites. An exact match. As in, Olsen must have hoarded fuel too.”
There was no telling what the Bureau would turn up when all was said and done. There would be caches all over that property. And who better to ferret them out than an ornery lynx with a nose for the killer?
“Ask Malone if he would be willing to help the teams locate the various caches.”
“I’m sure he’ll be happy to help,” Clay said dryly. “You give great motivational speeches.”
Intimidating little old ladies, even ones who baked people cookies, wasn’t a talent I wanted to cultivate.
More emails of lesser importance arrived, requiring my attention, and I settled in with Clay to work.
Two hours later, deep in research, I almost jumped out of my skin when a hand landed on my shoulder.
“I didn’t mean to startle you.” Asa raised said hand like he had been burned. “I was just reporting in.”
Blinking away the lines of text behind my eyes, I stared up at him. “Find anything?”
“Nothing.” The edges of his lips twitched. “Except for an elderly woman with a yellow camo shotgun.”
“She’s up with the dawn.” I stood in a rush. “How long ago did you see her?”
My neighbors didn’t expect me home yet, and I had left my car in the driveway. That meant they had no way to gauge my return unless they saw me with their own eyes. The sight of a strange SUV in my yard must have sent Mrs. Gleason into a tizzy. Enough she walked our property line for a read on who had dared to trespass while I was away.
“She’s been on high alert since Clay dropped in unannounced.” I didn’t have to remind Clay she pumped his butt full of buckshot. “She might have seen or heard something we can use. I’ll go talk to her.”
“Not alone, you won’t.” Clay made it an order. “Ace, you go with her.”
Asa cocked an eyebrow in response, clearly not expecting to be paired with me.
“The kid likes me better,” Clay said smugly. “She’s less likely to panic if she wakes up alone, and I’m here.”
“Fair point.” Asa lowered his head. “All right.”
“Let’s take my ride.” I touched his arm. “That way, she probably won’t shoot when she sees us.”
“Probably?” Asa flicked a glance at me. “I thought you were friends.”
“We are.” I shrugged. “But she’s got arthritis, and that makes for a twitchy trigger finger.”
Before we left, I changed into a casual outfit to further put Mrs. Gleason at ease.
Asa didn’t take his eyes off me, or the knee-length sundress with bumblebees zooming across the fabric.
There was no time to start a conversation worth having in under two minutes, so the drive was silent.
Sure enough, I pulled in, and Mrs. Gleason stepped out onto her porch with the gun in her hands.
Careful not to make any sudden movements, I lowered my window and called out, “Good morning.”
“Rue?” She eased down the stairs, the shotgun tucked under her arm. “I wasn’t expecting you back yet.” She spotted Asa halfway to me and froze. “You brought a friend.” She glared at him. “Are you that police looking into Rue’s ex?”
After he got his window down, he answered, “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She came to my side. “Another police was by your place yesterday. Around five. He was dressed like this one, anyway. Not as pretty, though.” She gave Asa a more thorough examination. “I figured he was checking on your house while you were gone, so I didn’t shoot him.”
Smothering the urge to laugh, I cleared my throat. “I appreciate that.”
Tone polite, Asa coaxed her. “Can you describe him for us?”
“About the height of my late husband. Maybe five-eight or five-nine. Brown hair. Nice suit.”
On my phone, I accessed the photos of Olsen and Kidd. “Did you see either of these men?”
“No.” She shook her head. “That wasn’t him.”
So much for that idea. Illusion magic truly was a plague on the paranormal law enforcement community.
“I don’t understand.” She frowned. “If he’s a police, then can’t you call the station for that information?”
“We’re concerned my ex—” I lied through my teeth, “—might be impersonating a police officer to evade capture.” I poured it on thick. “We have reason to believe he discovered my new address.” I put a cherry on top. “I think he might be who you saw at my house.”
“I knew I should have shot him,” she growled. “That’s the last time I give the benefit of the doubt.”
This visit was quickly spinning out of my control. “I would prefer you not go around shooting people.”
“On your property, that’s your choice.” She patted her shotgun. “On mine, I believe in instant karma.”
As soon as this was handled, I owed her granddaughter a call. She had to talk Mrs. Gleason down for me.
“We appreciate your time.” I squeezed her hand. “Do me a favor?”
“I already said I wouldn’t shoot anyone on your property,” she grumbled. “What else do you need?”
“If you see him again—or anyone else—call my cell. Do not go after him. He’s armed and dangerous.”
“Well, what do you know?” Her smile was feline. “So am I.”
“Please?” I squeezed her hand. “I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you because of me.”
“All right.” She leaned in to kiss my cheek then stepped away. “I’ll call a meeting of the Yard Birds.”
“Thank you.” I raised my window and backed onto the main road. “Well, that got us nowhere.”
Asa didn’t agree or disagree. “Who are the Yard Birds?”
“They’re our neighbors, and a few of her friends. They’re our unofficial neighborhood watch.”
That made him smile. “Are you sure it’s wise to let her rally her troops?”
“We don’t have much choice.” I rolled into my driveway. “It’s probably a good thing. They’ll keep her too busy to get into trouble.” I parked with a sigh. “They meet every Sunday after church. The last time, they drank their weight in margaritas and ended up passed out on the porch and in the driveway.”
Genuine alarm sharpened his expression. “With guns?”
“One of them is always chosen to be the designated ammo holder. So, yes to guns. No to bullets.”
“You have interesting neighbors,” he mused. “Are you sure they’ll be okay unsupervised?”
“I have the numbers of their husbands and grandkids if they get too out of hand.”
Back home, we exited the vehicle in time to find a moth on the porch, judging us.
Behind her, standing guard, was Clay. He rubbed the smile off his face at our cold reception.
“You left.” Colby landed on my head and knocked on my skull with a hand. “Why would you do that?”
“We have to find this guy.” I winced at her rough treatment. “You’re not safe until we do.”
Our home ought to have been inviolate after the years of blood, sweat, and effort I had sunk into the wards. But white witch work paled in comparison to the dark magical muscle the killer—or killers—was flexing.
“I don’t want to be
left behind again.” She shrank to hair bow size. “No one will notice.”
“I’ll think about it.” I squeezed past Clay and dropped her in the kitchen. “Eat your breakfast.”
With a huff, she returned to normal size and set about making her usual meal. As slow as possible. There were snails in the flowerbeds moving faster than Colby as she eavesdropped on the adult conversations.
“Let me help you.” I scooped up the bowl of pollen, made her fresh sugar water, then carried everything to her rig. She drifted behind me, barely flapping her wings, doing her best to drag her feet midair. “Stay put, and plug in. For real this time. There are some things you don’t need to hear, okay? I don’t want the images in your head.”
“It’s not like I haven’t seen it before,” she muttered softly. “I can handle it.”
“You have, and you can.” I swallowed to wet my throat. “That doesn’t mean you should have to again.”
Asa met me in the doorway with a grim expression that didn’t bode well for our investigation.
“Nine agents have been present at all four crime scenes.” He guided me into my chair then reclaimed his across from me. “Two of those, including Kidd, are junior agents. The rest are veterans.” He checked the screen. “The Kellies are in the process of locating the seven we haven’t spoken with yet.”
“Okay.” I rubbed my temples. “Why was Kidd recruited?”
“His mother was a lone wolf, and that’s how she raised him.” Clay knew the details without checking, so he must have already read this information. “She edged too close to the boundaries of her local pack’s land when prey became scarce. Kidd trespassed during a hunt, the alpha heard about it, and he went to set Kidd straight. His mother recognized the alpha, panicked, and challenged him.” Clay exhaled. “The alpha killed her quick. Kidd witnessed it. He flew into a rage, attacked and killed the alpha, then he ran.”
A warg with alpha tendencies and the strength to overthrow a pack on a whim had to be kept in line.
Packs policed their own, but with Kidd a rogue, the pack must have called Black Hat to report him.
“That means he’s strong, fast, and violent.” A killer. Like the rest of us. “What else do we know?”
“He was a part-time film student at a local college and worked full-time for a techy big box store.”
That fit with the artistic perspective Kidd brought to the crime scene videos and the possible camera hacking at the hotel.
“He has no magic.” Asa worried one of his earrings. “If he’s our copycat, then he’s definitely one of a pair.”
Wargs had only the magic they were born with. While it was transformation magic, it wasn’t a gift they could share with others. They might eat hearts because they tasted good, but they wouldn’t gain power from it. But souls? They had no means to call them or collect them, let alone consume them.
“The more we learn, the less we know.” I stared at the ceiling. “I’m not a fan of playing defense.”
Offense was more my style. Keep an opponent on their toes, and they had no time to plan their next steps.
The house phone rang, which was unusual, and I hopped up to answer. “Hello?”
“Are you back yet, dear?”
Miss Dotha’s warm voice washed over me in a comforting wave. “I am.”
She had called my house phone and not my cell phone, which meant I had to be home to answer, but I knew better than to sass her.
“Oh good.” She drew in a deep breath. “I’m afraid I have bad news.”
“Are you okay?” A ball of dread rolled in my gut. “Are the girls—?”
“It’s nothing like that. We’re all fine. It’s your lovely store. It was broken into last night.”
All at once, I could breathe again. “My store?”
“I called the police, and they’ve filed a report on the incident.” She let me absorb that. “Are you there?”
“Yes.” I hated my voice for cracking. “I’m here.”
“Would you like to come down and see for yourself before I get my son to board up the front?”
“Yes.” I sagged against the wall. “I’ll be down there shortly. And thank you.”
The call ended, but I stayed put, decisions churning through my head faster than I could make them.
“I need to handle this,” I told the guys. “He might have left a nasty surprise for the cops to find.”
The skull at the processor was a turning point in the killer’s—or killers’—evolution.
From the mural on the cave wall, I had to assume this production was all for me. To get to Colby.
They wanted my attention, and now they had it.
“Serial killers don’t change their spots.” Clay exhaled. “Nothing about this case has made any sense since we brought you on board.” He winced. “No offense.” He stood. “We thought we had a copycat but…”
“The killer—” it was easier to think in the singular until we had hard evidence, “—did his homework. The Silver Stag was my last case, and he made a half-assed attempt at recreating it. He hit enough similarities to ensure the Bureau went searching for me. He let them do the legwork to find me then followed me to Colby.”
Only an agent had the level of access required to learn the details of the Silver Stag case.
And only an agent had clearance for the systems storing the information on my whereabouts.
“How did he know about Colby?” Asa rose as well. “You were alone in the clearing.”
“I don’t know.” I picked at my thumbnail. “I missed something or someone.”
“Why would they wait ten years?” Clay shook his head. “It makes no sense.”
“I don’t know that either.” I considered the timeline. “Ten isn’t a powerful number. Seven or thirteen would have been better.” I turned to Colby. “Ready to go, Hairbow?”
Without an ounce of shame, she shucked her headset, shrank, and landed on my head.
A smile twitched in Clay’s cheek, but he wisely didn’t bring up the total lack of discipline in my house.
The guys would have blended in better wearing casual clothes, but agents tended not to pack civvies.
Lucky for me, consultants got to wear what they wanted to work.
We piled into my sporty SUV, Clay swearing about tiny cars the whole way, and hit the road.
A rhythmic boom, boom, boom caused me to slow in front of Mrs. Gleason’s house.
“Please don’t be shotgun blasts,” I murmured, hoping I wasn’t about to become the party police.
The Yard Birds had flocked together, about a dozen of them, and you could never be too careful. Alcohol and firearms do not mix. Unless you’re blending a murderita. But when I cracked my window, my fingers crossed, rap music pulsed in the air. I had been hearing the bass.
At least the massive hangover this promised Mrs. Gleason and her friends guaranteed that their eagle eyes would be too blurred to keep tabs on me.
For once, that would be a blessing.
Certain my neighbors were practicing safe keggering, I drove us into town and parked in the employee lot.
The three of us crossed to enter the store from the rear, and I paused with a hand on the knob.
Clay sidled up to me. “Want me to go first?”
I couldn’t find my voice, so I shook my head and pushed inside before I lost my nerve.
A gasp escaped me at the total destruction of what had been a small dream come true.
Everything that could be broken had been, including the security cameras mounted in the corners.
Crunching over broken glass, I met a pair of officers at the front door who greeted me with curt nods.
We had a small police force, so their faces were familiar. Their name tags read Waters and Downy.
There was no sign of Miss Dotha or the girls. She must have driven them home after the police arrived.
“Ms. Hollis,” Waters greeted me. “Do you have any enemies? Anyone who might want to hurt you?”
> The abrupt questions shocked me into silence when I had been expecting the usual social niceties first.
“What he means is, this level of violence strikes us as personal.” Downy cut his partner a sharp look then gentled his tone. “Do you have any idea who could have done this or why they targeted your store?”
The only choice I had was to stick to the lie I had been telling. “My ex-boyfriend.”
“All right.” Downy offered me a polite smile while he made notes. “What can you tell us about him?”
“Hold up, Downy.” Waters cut into his partner’s questioning to assess Asa and Clay. “Who are you two?”
“We’re with Rue,” Clay told him. “She let us in.”
Asa did his best to appear as nonthreatening as possible, but Waters broke into a sweat looking at him.
“The man responsible for this mess is Neil Wells,” I said loudly over Waters, then launched into my cover story for them both.
Neil Wells had existed, and he had been abusive to his girlfriends, but I had never been one of them. Black Hat put him down for blowing up a church to kill the vampires who slept in crypts beneath it. Why a selkie had it out for vampires, I had no idea, but Neil also managed to kill eight humans in the blast.
The director wasn’t about to let that slip, since dead humans meant investigations that might expose the bones of creatures the Bureau didn’t want to explain to mortal authorities. I figured Neil torched his reputation during his life, so I wasn’t doing him harm by compounding his legacy after his death.
The police questioning dragged on for about thirty minutes, give or take, before Miss Dotha arrived on the scene.
“You boys have your answers.” She shooed the officers out of the store. “Let the poor girl process.”
The officers knew Miss Dotha at least as well as I did since neither of them opened their mouth to sass her.
And yes, Miss Dotha considered anything she didn’t want to hear sass.
Gathering me into a fierce hug that smelled of lilacs, she patted my back, and the faint hum of distant magic in her blood soothed me. “There, there, dear.”
Miss Dotha’s affection was catlike, in that she gave it when she wanted, and she had claws.
Black Hat, White Witch Page 16