The Vigiles Urbani Chronicles- Year One

by Ken Lange

  The officer shrugged. “Old Lady Percy won’t be of much help… According to the stories, she lost her mind about twenty years ago. The sheriff found her half-naked, barefoot, and pretty beat up.” He waved a dismissive hand. “From what I hear, it was clear to the folks around town back then that she wasn’t able to take care of herself anymore.” Genuine sadness crossed his face and settled in his tone. “The local church offered to come by and help her, but she refused them.” An old pain crept through his eyes for the briefest of moments. “Apparently, she kept repeating, ‘He’s taken the kids.’” With an effort, he shook free of the memory. “Sad, really. It’s not like she ever had any kids of her own.” He nodded at the house. “You’d be better off stopping at the library down the road for information about the plantation. As for Old Lady Percy, I heard they put her in one of those retirement homes somewhere in the city.”

  Well, crap. “I see.” I really wanted to get in there, but I doubted that was in the cards. “Any chance I could look around before I go?”

  The look he gave me told me he’d rather shoot me. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist that you don’t.” He pointed at a sign by the road. “It being private property and all. I wouldn’t feel right about letting some stranger poke around.”

  Called it.

  Pushing myself off the Tucker, I grunted my disappointment. “No problem. Guess I’ll be on my way.”

  Officer Matherne pivoted in place, eyeing the Tucker suspiciously. “That’s a mighty fine piece of machinery.”

  Pride swelled in my chest, and I patted the fender, giving the man a wink. “Isn’t it?”

  “Where can I find one?” he asked.

  I snorted and tossed up my hands. “You got me. This one kind of fell in my lap last week.”

  He made a derisive huff, and his eyes narrowed. “I guess blogging pays a lot more than I thought.”

  Taking it for the accusation it was, I popped the door. “It pays all right.” With a grin, I held it open for the officer to get a good look. “I’d let you take it for a spin, but I need to get to the library before it closes.”

  He snorted at the offer. “I don’t think my bosses would appreciate me joyriding on the city’s dime.” Waving, he said, “See ya soon.”

  Well, that didn’t sound creepy at all. I closed the door and fired up the Tucker before pulling out of the drive. Having no choice in the matter, I headed for the library. With a little luck, someone in there might know more about Old Lady Percy than Officer Matherne had.

  The lady at the desk, while old enough to recall the incident concerning Mary, had no idea who currently owned the plantation or where they’d taken her after the “episode.” I wasn’t surprised to find Officer Matherne leaning against his car when I exited. He didn’t say a word, only offered me a curt wave when I got into the Tucker and drove off.

  Pulling onto I-310, I stepped on the gas and let the purr of the engine keep pace with my thoughts. The one thing I was quickly learning about the Deep South was how cliquish they were. Everyone they considered an outsider was stonewalled with great efficiency.

  The sun was hanging low on the horizon when I turned into the drive at home, and Alexander and two of his men were there to greet me. Well, it was more like a quick visual inspection…and what appeared to be them sniffing the air. After Chan being a shapeshifter had become common knowledge, Alexander had stepped up his security.

  Getting out of the car, I quickly called out, “Alexander.”

  The big man turned with an inquisitive expression. “Yes?”

  It felt like a stupid question, but I had to know. “Please don’t be offended, but am I imagining things, or are you guys sniffing me when I return?”

  Alexander grinned. “Good catch…and yeah, we are. It’s because of the shifters. They give off a strong floral scent before, during, and a half hour after a change. They can’t mask it.” He pointed at my right hand. “I’ve never heard of one being able to duplicate the vigil’s scarring, but that’s within the realm of possibility.”

  That explained why I’d smelled jasmine the night of the attack. “Good to know… Thanks.”

  He clapped me on the shoulder before turning to leave. “If you need anything, you’ve got my number.”

  I patted my pocket. “I do.”

  It was already after 5:00 p.m., which meant I’d need to hurry if I was going to have a chance at a warm meal. In the kitchen, I found Kimberly, Andrew, and Isidore sitting at the table. Andrew glanced up and thumbed over his shoulder. “There’s a plate and some roast on the counter.”

  Thank the gods. I grabbed a plate. “Appreciate it.”

  After a quick dinner, I went to my room and deposited the computer and papers I’d copied from the library before walking over to see Heather.

  We talked about my visit to Destrehan, and she giggled. Her tone was haughty when she spoke. “You have to wonder if Brad and your new police buddy are related.”

  I sniggered. “Because they’re both assholes?”

  She guffawed, grabbed her gut, and winced. “Don’t make me laugh.” She calmed herself and shook her head. “Because they’re both Mathernes.” Closing her eyes, she shifted a couple of pillows in an effort to get comfortable. “Of course, in this part of the country, you can’t throw a rock without hitting a Matherne, or a Boudreaux, or even a Broussard, for that matter.”

  “I suppose.”

  Heather pushed herself up with a grunt. “Since Brad is from Destrehan, though, the odds are pretty good they’re related somehow. Probably distant cousins.” She pursed her lips in thought. “Ya know, I’ve never really heard him speak about his family other than his father.” She glowered at the memory. “That boy has some serious daddy issues. Probably why he’s so attached to mine.”

  Not wanting to open that can of worms, I steered her back on topic. “Maybe next time I drive out that way, I’ll call him for tips on where to eat.”

  She smacked me playfully on the leg. “Don’t be an ass.” She started to titter, and her chest heaved. “God, I’d love to see his face though.” She gave me a hopeful glance. “If you ever do call him, make sure to push his buttons by using his full name.”

  “Which is?”

  Her face soured. “Walter Bradley Matherne.”

  The name hit me hard in the gut, and I froze. “Seriously? When’s his birthday?”

  She shot me an odd look. “Why? Planning on getting him something?”

  “Doubtful.”

  She let out a long breath. “July 31.”

  This wasn’t possible. One thing, sure, but there were just too many coincidences for it not to be true. “I need to go.”

  I got to my feet to leave when Heather waved a hand, and the door swung closed. “Wait a second. You start asking questions about Brad, and you’ve suddenly got to go? What’s going on?”

  I’m a terrible liar, but I did my best to feign ignorance. “Nothing…” Then it dawned on me what had just happened. Gesturing at her hand, I asked, “Where’s your ring?”

  She turned a sickly shade of alabaster, panic set in, and she moved her hand under the blankets. “I don’t see what that has to do with my question.”

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, I stared at her curiously. “Let’s start with the ring, and then we can revisit your question.”

  She scowled, reluctantly pulling her hands out. “If I had to guess, it’s with my phone.”

  It took a second but then I understood. She believed her father had it, along with all her other personal effects from that night. “If Robert has it…how is it you’re able to use your abilities? Isn’t that sort of a requirement for them to work?”

  Her unease grew, and she had the distinct look of a kid who’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “Maybe because I don’t need one.”

  From everything I’d read, all witches needed a focusing object. Leaning back, I folded my arms and waited. “Go on.”

  Heather deflated, and she closed her eye
s in defeat. “Damn it.” She glared at the pill bottles on the nightstand. “I can’t believe I slipped up so badly.” She sighed. “No chance you’d be willing to forget about it?”

  Okay, now I felt like an asshole, but I needed to know what was going on. “I’d like to, but all things considered, I can’t.”

  Reluctantly, she nodded. “You’ve got to swear this won’t leave this room.”

  “Let’s hear it first. I’m not willing to put myself or my uncle at risk over a promise I may not be able to keep.”

  Heather sagged and fidgeted with her hands for several seconds. “My mother’s father was a sorcerer…but with both my parents being witches, odds were I’d be one as well.”

  I stroked the soft whiskers on my chin. “You inherited your grandfather’s gift instead.”

  Relief and sorrow shone on her face. “Yeah.”

  Sorcerers didn’t need focusing items and they were very long-lived, so as far as I could tell, this was all great news for her. “Why lie about it?”

  Her eyes bulged. “Well, for starters, witches hate sorcerers.” Seeing that I was slow on the uptake, she continued, “You’ve met my father. That man is a racist through and through. If he ever discovered I was a sorcerer, he’d kill me. I’m not talking about the yelling and screaming thing…he’d literally kill me.”

  Now that’s father-of-the-year award material right there. “I’m sorry.”

  Her shoulders slumped, and she did her best to be as small as possible. “It’s become second nature to hide my talents.” Her eyes pleaded with me. “Promise you won’t tell anyone.”

  She had nothing to worry about from me. I’d always felt bad about my situation growing up, but I’d never hidden who I was. This was so much worse. The strain it must’ve put her under all these years… “You have my word.”

  Relief swept over her. “Thank you.” She gave me a sheepish look. “Think you can trust me with your secret now?”

  That was a cheap shot, but one I probably deserved. “Sure.” Glancing back at the door to make sure we were still alone, I sat up straight. “Martha had a file on Walter Percy in her office.”

  Her face scrunched up. “What’s that bastard got to do with it?”

  Good to see the man had fans. “I’m not sure that he does, but there was a marriage certificate and a couple of birth records in the file. One of which was for Walter B. Percy, born on July 31, 1974.”

  She sniggered. “That’s what has you all worked up?” Shaking her head, she said, “I suppose it’s possible, but—”

  I cut in. “But what? The same birthday, the same name—mostly, anyway—and he’s a douche… Think about it. The odds are in my favor on this one.”

  That put her on the ropes but certainly not out. “I’ll give you that…but I still think it’s unlikely.”

  “But what if I’m right?”

  She frowned. “Then he’s way more messed up than I thought.”

  I chuckled. “On that, we can agree.”

  She grinned. “Well, in that case, maybe you should go find out.”

  Getting to my feet, I saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Heather’s finger twitched, and the door opened. “Stop in later if you want, but for now, I need some rest.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  I was out of her room and into my own a few seconds later. I grabbed my computer and started typing. If Brad Matherne and Walter B. Percy were two different people, it should be easy enough to figure out.

  Chapter 23

  Saturday June 6th

  By the time the sun peeked over the horizon, it was obvious I’d overestimated my ability as a digital sleuth. All my attempts at tracking down Brad’s past, or even his present, were proving fruitless. From what I could tell, he didn’t have a use for the Internet—meaning no social media, credit cards, bank accounts, or even the slightest hint of a digital footprint. Of course, I could’ve been looking in all the wrong places.

  Truth of the matter was I didn’t have the same credentials I’d possessed a mere month ago. Then, I could’ve made a call and had his entire life story by the end of business. Now, I was relegated to doing Internet searches and paying for third-party services, which had turned up absolutely nothing on the man.

  My phone rang just after 9:00 a.m., and to my great surprise, it was someone who might be able to help: Lieutenant Baptist.

  Sitting up straighter at my desk, I answered, “Good morning.”

  Baptist’s thick accent carried over to his rich laugh. “You sound terrible. Long night?”

  Deception wasn’t my strong suit. “You could say that.” I paused. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”

  Papers rustled in the background. “I tracked those numbers you gave me.”

  Some detective I was turning out to be. I’d totally forgotten about them. The value of Martha’s meticulous note-taking habit was becoming painfully apparent. “Let me guess…nothing?”

  “Da,” he said in a bored tone. “They appear to be burners purchased out of state.” He sucked air through his teeth. “You have one of them… Correct?”

  With a flick of a finger, I knocked the burner into a nearby pile of books. “Yeah.”

  He grunted his satisfaction. “Good. One of the techs gave me Andrew’s address for the first number.”

  “And the other?”

  He gave a contemptuous grumble. “Nothing. Dead as a doornail.”

  I picked up the useless hunk of plastic and tossed it in the garbage. “Great.” Still, where I’d failed, perhaps the UCD would succeed. “I need you to look into a couple of names for me as soon as possible.”

  Baptist sniggered. “You’re welcome.”

  Wincing, I stammered. “Sorry…thanks for the help with the phones.”

  “No problem…and who are we searching for today?”

  I flipped through the notebook and stopped at the marriage certificate. “The first name on the list is Mary Percy, former resident of Destrehan. Not sure where she is now. Perhaps a retirement home. I don’t have a birthday, but I’ve got an old address.”

  There was a flurry of scratches before he spoke again. “Address?”

  It took another ten minutes to go through what I needed on Mary, Brad, and Brody Percy. If I could connect any of the Mathernes to the Percys, I might have a chance. Of course, Baptist wasn’t happy, and he filled me in on Walter’s vast political connections. While the UCD wasn’t a fan, that didn’t mean the mayor’s office agreed, and his involvement would slow the process down.

  Ending the call, I stood, stretched, and headed for the door. I couldn’t stop fidgeting; the frustration of not knowing what to do next wore on my nerves. I’d spent the last three decades being the solution to the problem, not ferreting it out. My handlers had done almost all the legwork prior to my involvement. Sure, there were times I’d had to change things on the fly, but I always had a solid target and the resources of an entire government at my disposal.

  Heather, Andrew, and Kimberly were sitting around the table in the living room. I wasn’t really in the mood to socialize, but they’d already spotted me. The last thing I wanted to do was get stuck in a conversation with anyone, even them, but it was too late now. Fighting off the wave of antisocial behavior, I waved and faked the semblance of a pleasant mood.

  Pushing the thoughts of Brad, Walter, and the others to one side, I lumbered toward the table, trying to sound casual. “Good morning.”

  Andrew seemed surprised at my presence. “When I didn’t see you at breakfast, I thought you’d already left for the day.”

  The mention of food made my stomach growl. “Sorry about that. I must’ve lost track of the time.”

  Heather’s gaze locked onto me. “How’s the hunt?”

  I couldn’t hide my frustration. “Terrible…the lack of any official resources is severely hindering my progress.”

  Understanding flooded Andrew’s face. “I’m sorry about that, but there isn’t a lot I can do
till Friday rolls around. If we did anything now, it would only alert the others about your post.”

  Kimberly frowned. “That’s true, but keeping it a secret until then won’t go over well with the triumvirate.” Her eyes filled with pity when they fell on me. “Nothing against you, but…”

  I gave her an indifferent roll of my shoulders. “Don’t worry about it. What’s done is done, and remember, we have a tactical advantage at the moment. I can worry about the political fallout later.”

  Kimberly didn’t appear convinced. “That’s not the only thing working against you.” She cut her eyes at Andrew. “The fact you’re his nephew will only make things worse with Robert and Ms. Dodd.”

  Andrew made a meh sound. “I’m sure it’ll all work out…Robert was going to be pissed no matter what, and given time, Ms. Dodd will be fine. Nothing to worry with.”

  Kimberly’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Right…because the woman is known for her understanding. You know damn good and well that they’ll take every opportunity to make his life a living hell.”

  He grimaced. “Perhaps, but it can’t be undone now.” His face hardened, and his voice turned to ice. “We couldn’t allow one of Robert’s candidates to take over as vigil.” He said the man’s name like he’d just tasted shit. “It would be a huge setback for everyone.”

  Kimberly fell back, conceding the point. “That’s also true.” Her wary gaze shifted to me. “But he’s the one who has to live with the consequences.”

  Andrew shrugged. “I suppose it’s a good thing Elizabeth has plenty of time to get past it.”

  Nodding at my uncle, I stepped closer. “Andrew’s right. She’ll just have to get over it. It’s not like I can quit.” My resolve hardened. “Considering she isn’t my boss, interference in my affairs could be considered a crime.” Seeing I had their attention, I continued. “Simply put, if she gets too far out of hand, I’ll break it for her.”