by R. D. Hunter
“But, Captain, I just caught that murder down near Five Points,” I protested as politely as I could. “Surely, one of our veteran officers would be more fitted to a role this…important.” I almost said trivial, but caught myself.
“I couldn’t agree more,” the Lieutenant said nastily. “However, Mr. Mason requested you by name and considering the generous support he has contributed to the department over the years, we were only too happy to oblige his request.”
“Your current caseload will be redistributed while you are on this assignment,” Captain Barker said, obviously not much happier about the situation than I was. “And we have Mr. Mason’s personal assurance that you’ll be returned to us in a matter of days.”
And that was it. My first day back on the job and I’d gone from police detective, investigating the murder of an unidentified man, to nanny for a spoiled, rich socialite who had me by the short and curley’s. My grandpa would say that the universe has a sense of humor. I’d just say that karma was a bitch.
I took a deep breath and even managed to force a smile.
“Of course, I’d be delighted to assist in this matter,” I said, not quite gritting my teeth as I did so.
“Excellent,” Mason said, getting to his feet and shaking hands with my supervisors. “Shall we be off then? I have a meeting downtown in fifteen minutes.”
He walked out of the office and I shot Captain a look. He shrugged his shoulders helplessly and mouthed “Just go with it.”
I followed my new charge, catching up to him at the elevator. It was only one floor down to the lobby, but apparently His Highness couldn’t be bothered with taking the stairs. That suited me. We needed some alone time.
As soon as the elevator started moving, I hit the STOP button and whirled to face him.
“Okay, what gives?” I asked, giving him the glare I’d been holding back all this time. He blinked innocently like he had no idea what I was talking about.
“I’m sorry?”
“Cut the crap. The last time we spoke, you weren’t impressed by anything about me other than how quick I put your bodyguard on the floor. Where is Bo-Bo anyway? Wouldn’t he be insulted that you outsourcing his job?” Mason quirked an eyebrow.
“Bo-Bo?” he repeated, his lips quivering like he was trying to hold back a smile. I shrugged.
“He’s built like a gorilla. I call him Bo-Bo. Where is he?”
“Ah, I see. Very amusing. Mr. Meadows was unfortunately injured in a recent accident and will be recovering for some time.” He absently touched the cut on his forehead, and I wondered what kind of accident put the burly man down for the count. “As such, he is currently unable to fulfill his duties. Hence our present arrangement.”
“Yeah, about that, why me? And don’t give me any crap about my ‘zest for duty,’” I added quickly. “I have a very limited tolerance for bullshit today and being pulled off my case exceeded my quota.
“Very well,” Mason said, then hit me with a right-cross of a revelation. “I chose you because I know that you are a witch with real magical abilities.” While I was gaping at this, he followed with a verbal uppercut. “And I need you because I’ve been cursed and, without your help, am likely to die very soon.”
GRATUITOUS SELF-PROMOTION
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