Detached

by Elicia Hyder

  “It never is.” She put on a pair of rubber gloves. “What happened?”

  “He headbutted me,” I said. “Dani looked at it on scene. Said the staples busted open.”

  She carefully unwrapped my head. “Have you ever heard of second-impact syndrome?”

  “No,” I lied.

  “Well, it can kill you. Second concussions are serious. Deadly serious. Hence”—she looked me square in the face—“the light-duty order.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Not as sorry as you’re gonna be when you’re on a medical vacation for the next couple of weeks.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  She scowled as she dropped the bloody bandages into the red hazmat bin. “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

  Essex was fighting a grin.

  The doctor shined a penlight in my eyes. “Any problems with your vision or dizziness?”

  “No.”

  “Any numbness or tingling in your limbs?”

  “No.”

  She leveled her gaze at me. “Are you telling me the truth?”

  “Yes.” I held up my pinky finger. “I swear.”

  “I’m ordering another head CT to be safe.”

  “That really isn’t necessary—”

  She held up a finger to cut me off. “You don’t get an opinion.”

  Essex snickered as my doctor slammed her dirty gloves into the bin with more force than necessary before stalking out of the room.

  The ER doctor fixed Costa’s nose, and Essex took him to jail while I waited for my head to be restapled. Essex returned an hour later to pick me up. “You still in the doghouse?” he asked as I dragged myself from the gurney.

  With a groan, I handed him my paperwork. In bright red ink the doctor had written, No return to work until staples removed. “I’m going to have to find another emergency room. Bye, Celise!” I called to the nurse’s station.

  “See you later, Nyx,” she replied with a chuckle.

  Essex held the door for me. “How’s it feel?”

  “Thankfully, not as bad as the first time.”

  “What did the CT show?”

  I tapped my temple. “All cobwebs and dust, if you believe Dr. Pratts.”

  As we walked out, the television in the waiting room caught my attention. Our courthouse was on the news. I stopped. “What’s going on downtown?”

  “It’s a replay. While you were getting patched up, there was an impromptu press conference. Apparently, Shooter Stone flew into town and led a march on the courthouse, demanding justice for his son.”

  Mayor Hector Navarro was at the podium, and Shooter Stone stood beside him. Shooter wore dark sunglasses with the brim of his worn-out cowboy hat pulled low to meet them. His gray beard brushed his barrel chest, clad in a bright red shirt with a snakeskin vest.

  Navarro had heavy bags under his eyes. “Our detectives have found a strong suspect lead in the past twenty-four hours, based on another incident in the area, which occurred within minutes of the explosion. I’d like to invite District Attorney Harrison Birch to brief you on how this lead came together and on the next steps in our investigation.”

  I looked at Essex. “There’s a lead?”

  He lifted his shoulders.

  Harrison Birch was visibly shaking. He cleared his throat at the microphone, sending a shrill wave of feedback through the speaker. “Good evening. I, too, would like to extend my deepest sympathies to the Stone family”—he turned toward Shooter—“and the Stevens family. I would like to announce that dental records confirmed today the identity of the third victim as Calvin Fleming, age twenty-five, of Sapphire Lake.”

  This wasn’t news to me, but a small squeak still erupted from my throat.

  “Also . . .” Birch swallowed. “We have a suspect in custody.”

  The crowd erupted into thunderous applause.

  “The suspect we have apprehended was in the area, with motive and opportunity to commit these heinous acts. Charges and more information are forthcoming, and we appreciate the patience and support of the—”

  The crowd shouted over him. “Let him burn!” “We want a name!” “Justice for Ryder!”

  Birch shouted into the microphone. “We appreciate the patience and support of the community as we move forward with the investigation.”

  The scene cut back to Marianne Clarke, who was still reporting live from the courthouse. Most of the crowd had dispersed.

  “That’s it? What the hell?” I looked at Essex. “Who’s the suspect?”

  “No idea. They haven’t told us anything yet.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “I think so too.”

  As we walked outside, I looked at my phone. “This message makes more sense now.” I showed him the text I’d gotten from Paps while waiting for my staples. GET ME AN AUTOGRAPH!!!

  “That’s funny.”

  Across the lot, Essex had backed into a space near a row of hemlocks. He walked all the way around his car to open the passenger-side door for me. My first instinct was to bristle at the chivalry, but I didn’t. When I walked past him, he palmed my stomach to stop me.

  “No argument this time?” he asked with a smile.

  “Argument about what?”

  “My driving you home.”

  “Not this time.”

  He looked carefully around, then closed the space between us. “You were done a lot sooner than I expected. I told Baker I wouldn’t be back on the road for another couple of hours.”

  My heart thumped against my body armor. “What did you have in mind?”

  He lowered his voice. “Absolutely nothing honorable.”

  A zing of excitement fluttered through me. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Delicious excitement was pulsing through me when we pulled up to my building and found a large, blacked-out SUV waiting in front of my garage. Only one vehicle like it existed in Sapphire Lake.

  “What the hell is Magnus doing here?” Essex asked, shifting to park at the end of the driveway.

  “I have no idea.”

  The chief got out and walked to his back bumper. The brass on his chest and the silver flecks in his hair reflected the moonlight. “Corporal Nyx,” he said with a polite nod when I opened the passenger door.

  “Hello, Chief. This is a surprise,” I said, grabbing my backpack and closing the door behind me.

  Essex got out too. “Chief.”

  “Good evening, Sergeant. Nyx, I heard about your ordeal tonight. Everything OK?”

  “Had to have my head stapled again, but I’m fine. Unfortunately, I’ll be out of work for a while. Essex has the paperwork.”

  “Well, we hate to lose you, even temporarily, but I want you back at a hundred percent. Not a day sooner.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Sergeant, are you on duty tonight?” Magnus asked.

  Essex looked caught. “Uh, yes, sir. Reporting in as soon as I run home to let out my dog. Baker’s covering the shift.”

  “Excellent. If you’ll excuse us, I have business with Corporal Nyx.”

  I looked at Essex. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. The chief just stared at him. Finally, Essex gave a curt nod. “That’s fine. You have a good night.”

  Every instinct in me wanted to ask him to stay, but there was no way in hell I could do that in front of the chief. The chief. What was he doing here?

  Essex backed out onto the street, and Chief Magnus cleared his throat. It was then, I realized I was staring at my boss as he left.

  I turned back around.

  “I’m sorry to show up unannounced like this, Corporal.”

  I gestured toward the condo. “Would you like to come inside?”

  “No, thank you. What I have to say won’t take long. Gregg questioned Malena Nyx today. She wasn’t very helpful.”

  “I heard. I’m not surprised, sir. And I apologize on behalf of my whole gene pool.”

  Magnus smiled. “No need. There are a
few bad apples on my family tree as well. ”

  This small talk was nothing but awkward procrastination. A filler until he worked up the nerve to tell me what he really wanted.

  “Chief, why are you here?”

  He crossed his arms and walked toward me. A foot away, he stopped and stared over my shoulder. “An email is going out tomorrow morning with official word, but I wanted you to hear it from me.” He met my eyes. “We’re giving the narcotics position to Morris.”

  It was like a punch to the gut.

  “And it was my call,” he added.

  Well, damn.

  “Have I done something to—”

  “No, no, which is why I’m telling you in person. Nyx, I denied you the position because I need you in investigations.”

  Um . . . what?

  “With all due respect, sir, I have zero interest in becoming a detective. I thought I made my goals crystal clear in our final interview.”

  “You did, but my job as chief is to make the best use of our resources. And I know the best fit for all of us is with you doing investigations.”

  My head ached. I couldn’t make sense of what my ears were hearing. “Why?”

  “Because I knew your father.”

  My head snapped back so quickly it made me dizzy. “Excuse me?”

  “I knew Elias Nyx. I knew what he could do, and I know what you can do now that he’s dead.”

  I really needed to sit down. “How?”

  “I was on the force when your father was arrested. I met with him several times after his conviction.”

  My brain scrambled. I’d never been confronted by anyone in law enforcement who really knew about Elias.

  “I know you can see things the rest of us can’t, and right now, this whole city needs the kind of help only you can give.”

  “Who else knows about me?” I asked.

  “I haven’t told a soul. Have you?”

  I shook my head.

  “Good. Others might take advantage of your ability.”

  He certainly sounded like Elias. The back of my neck prickled.

  Chief Magnus stepped closer. “We need you in investigations, Nyx. I can make it so you report directly to me, and no one else has to know about what you can do. You’ll never have to worry about explaining yourself to anyone.”

  I backed up. “I’ll consider it, but I can’t give you an answer tonight.” I started past him toward my building.

  He grabbed my wrist. “If you won’t do it for me, maybe you’ll do it for Teek Fleming.”

  I wrenched my arm free. “What?”

  “Tomorrow, the DA is charging Teek with the murders of his brother, Ryder Stone, and Stone’s girlfriend.”

  “That’s ridiculous. With what evidence?”

  “Both Fleming brothers have records as long as my arm—”

  “Teek’s been clean for the past two years.”

  “Irrelevant. They’re going to say it was a drug deal gone bad. That Fleming killed them, then rigged the place to blow up and destroy the evidence. They’ll say he ran on foot and held up the convenience store as part of his getaway.”

  “No one will ever believe it.”

  “Not anyone who personally knows Teek, but none of them would make his jury. And they have the surveillance tape of Fleming robbing the Mini Market at gunpoint.”

  “It was a zucchini!”

  “It doesn’t look like it on tape. It’s quite damning.”

  I grasped my aching skull and paced the driveway, staring up at the stars.

  Chief watched me. “There’s a lot of pressure from the media to make an arrest, so they’re going to hang this on someone. And you and I both know they won’t come up with another suspect.”

  I dropped my arms and faced him. “How do you and I both know that?”

  “Because a nightwalker killed those people, and whoever set that chalet on fire did us all a favor.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I’ll talk to Birch. Surely, he’ll need my testimony since I was Teek’s arresting officer the night of the fire.”

  “That’s all well and good, but don’t be surprised if that raises more questions. There was some talk about why the video feed was missing from your car when you transported him to jail.”

  My mouth gaped. “Do they think I did it on purpose?”

  “No. After speaking to Sergeant Essex, I vouched for you and told them it could only be a system malfunction.”

  Part of me wanted to thank him, but the other part sensed manipulation in even his protection.

  “Was it a malfunction?” he asked.

  “No. It was Elias. He could mess with electronics when he was detached. Where is Teek now?” I asked, anxious to change the subject.

  “Locked up.”

  “He’s already been charged?”

  “The judge ordered a psych evaluation. He’s at Sterling Heights.”

  Sterling Frights, Teek had called it.

  “That’s bullshit!” My voice was louder than I intended, but the pressure rising inside me had to vent somewhere, so it came out my mouth.

  A neighbor turned on their bedroom light.

  The chief spoke quietly. “Tell me about it. But this is all the more reason we need someone like you. Even if we aren’t able to save Teek, innocent people go to prison or are killed every day. You can help me put the right ones behind bars.”

  The chief’s words sounded good, but unease burned in the back of my mind.

  Elias’s warning: “You must be vigilant.”

  Orion’s too: “Watch your back.”

  I wondered if Orion was here, watching, now. My mind shifted to the shadow blade strapped to my leg.

  “What if I refuse?” I asked.

  “Then I’ll be forced to make a tough decision. I’m not sure how you can continue on with the department.”

  “Why? I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “No, but I can’t unknow what you are, which will be problematic anytime you get caught up in a serious case that goes to court.” He gave me a knowing look. “I’ll never be able to truthfully defend you from the Norina Grumley cases of this world. Was Orion your so-called CI?”

  My heart fell. “Elias told me Orion found her.”

  Magnus nodded. “That’s going to be a problem in the future. You know as well as I do, plausible deniability can be everything in the chain of command.”

  In other words, if I screwed up somehow, he’d never be able to claim ignorance of my activities.

  “If you worked with me, we could take measures to ensure the information you gather is admissible in court. You could be a real asset to our department and the whole city.”

  A knot rose in my throat.

  “Think about it, Nyx.” Chief Magnus walked to his SUV and opened the driver’s door. “You know how to reach me.”

  When he was gone, I took the steps two at a time up to my condo. I went inside and locked the door, then dialed Essex’s phone number.

  He didn’t answer.

  Swearing under my breath, I unbuckled my weapons belt as I walked to the bedroom. I changed quickly into a pair of black leggings with a built-in holster, a tank top, and a button-up gray-and-black flannel.

  I swapped my duty weapon for my compact 9mm and replaced the blade on my right calf. After I cleaned the blood off my face and neck, I grabbed the Boundary go bag, a jacket, and the keys to my Jeep.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I called Essex again on the drive. Still no answer.

  What the hell?

  Was he mad at me over Magnus?

  When I pulled into his driveway, I parked behind his SUV and got out. At the front door, I started to knock and realized it was cracked open. I stepped back and looked around again. Nothing seemed amiss. His personal truck was in its spot, and a light was on in the living room.

  Panic crept up my spine as I pushed it open. “Sarge?”

  Dark-red blood was smeared across the tiles. I ripped my gun from the b
ack of my hip and pushed the door all the way open. A blood trail, dotted with paw prints, stretched from the laundry room to the sofa, down the hall, and around the kitchen island.

  “Essex!” I screamed, not seeing his body or Karma’s in the carnage. My heart pounding, I tiptoed into the room and around the blood as best I could, but it was everywhere.

  That was when the smell hit me.

  Paint.

  Kneeling down, I touched my fingers to a red puddle, then breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Oh my god.”

  There was a crash down the hall, followed by swearing. “Stop it now!” Essex yelled over a lot of sloshing.

  I tiptoed my way across the living room. “Essex?” I called.

  “In the bathroom!”

  Exhaling the breath I’d been holding, I sidestepped down the hallway to the bathroom. I peeked inside, keeping my face toward the hallway . . .

  Wait.

  I lowered my gun.

  “Lass das sein!” Essex yelled at Karma, wrestling the dog back into the tub. The walls that had once been white were splattered with red.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  He looked back; his face matched the walls. “Oh, good, you have a gun.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “It’s paint.”

  I bit down on the insides of my lips to keep from laughing.

  “I was going to paint the dog door to match the trim of the house. Guess who knocked the can over while I was at work?”

  A snicker escaped, and I covered my mouth. “I thought someone was dead.”

  “Not yet.” He was holding Karma by the collar with one hand and spraying him with the detachable shower head with the other. The dog kept fighting to get out of the tub.

  Essex had stripped down to his white T-shirt, but he still wore his black work pants. I pulled off my jacket and flannel and carried them with my gun to his bedroom. Even the comforter was slathered with red paint. Laughing, I put my stuff on the bed and pulled off my boots before returning to help.

  In the bathroom, I tugged up my pants legs and held onto Essex’s shoulder as I stepped over him into the tub.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’ll hold him still. You wash.” I grabbed Karma’s collar and straddled his back as my free hand stroked his chest. “Good boy, calm down. The torture will be over soon.”