Trafficking in Demons

by Michael Angel

  Suddenly, it felt like a stone plopped down into my stomach. I didn’t even have to stretch my imagination to guess the client’s name.

  “Crossbow Consulting,” I said flatly. “It’s them, isn’t it?”

  “It gets even better than that, Dayna. Not only did Wainwright work with Crossbow, I’d say that he is good friends with the company’s president, Grayson Archer.”

  I looked up towards the side lawn as I stepped out of the underbrush. Still no sign of Liam. I had to wrestle my attention back to the phone.

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “What makes you say that?”

  “Because Archer sold his house to Mose Wainwright two years ago. And for substantially below market value.”

  I looked up sharply. The sun made me squint as I came to a stop next to the garden. The smell of ripening tomatoes filled my nostrils. “That house…it’s the same one where Wainwright was murdered, wasn’t it?”

  “Got it in one. Prior to the sale to Wainwright, it had belonged to Grayson Archer for the better part of a decade.”

  “Okay, that actually makes sense,” I said, fitting the new pieces into my mental jigsaw puzzle. “Either Archer or Wainwright would love this property, given their background. Easy access to Los Angeles. Privacy. A homemade gun range. Security features like the gates and spike strips.”

  Not to mention the magical wards, I thought. Question is, who was Archer protecting himself from?

  “There’s more,” Esteban added. “Vega’s people found the server running the property’s security camera system and had it brought back here. The hard drive was set up to store a solid week’s worth of footage.”

  I felt my heart begin to race. “So you must have footage of–”

  Before I could say anything else, the back door opened. Well, it was sort of ‘levered’ open by a fayleene antler. Liam squeezed through the doorway, stepped down from the back porch with a clop of cloven hooves, and made his way towards me. His adorable deer face looked pale, and his expression was one of utter shock.

  “Just a minute, Alanzo,” I said hurriedly. I set the phone to ‘mute’ as I walked up to Liam. “What’s wrong?”

  I reached out to stroke his brow with my palm. The Protector of the Forest shuddered under my touch. He gave me a look that was filled with fear.

  “It’s a chamber of horrors in there!”

  I blinked. “Wait, what do you mean? The body was in the living room, and it should’ve been cleaned up–”

  He shook his head as I stepped back, out of range of his sharp antlers. “Not the living room! The one just inside the door…it’s got severed heads mounted on the walls!”

  Okay, that stopped me. Inwardly, I kicked myself. Hard.

  The ‘stag’ room had been covered with Sexy Sweater Kittens porn on one wall, but lined with game trophies on the other two. From a fayleene’s perspective, it was probably seriously unsettling. If a Los Angeles native were to come across a house with severed human heads tacked up on the walls, I think they’d have reacted the same way.

  “I’m so sorry!” I said, kneeling in front of Liam. “I didn’t think to tell you…those are trophies that hunters sometimes take. It’s a…well, a hobby for some humans.”

  “A hobby?” He stared at me, still clearly distressed. “What is wrong with you people?”

  “Look, I…maybe I need to explain this a little better sometime.”

  “I hope you can!” Liam turned and walked away from me, shaking his head and muttering under his breath.

  I forced myself to take a couple of breaths, then I un-muted the phone.

  “Sorry about that,” I said. “Had a minor emergency on my end.”

  Esteban sounded concerned. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I think so. Just ran into a human-fayleene cultural gap. A big one.”

  “Ah. Well, I need to dash your expectations. There’s no footage of the murder, but there’s one more curious bit. The day before yesterday, Wainwright was visited by a short, slight man wearing a brown tweed suit. The front door camera got an eyeful of him up close, so our facial recognition system was able to ID the guy as someone named Karl Nystrom.”

  I rolled the name around in my head a couple of times. Karl Nystrom. It didn’t ring a bell, so I stayed quiet as Esteban continued.

  “The camera footage shows that Nystrom brought along a large hard-shell case, the kind used to store long bore firearms. The case’s contents were heavy enough that he only moved it on reinforced luggage rollers. Wainwright welcomed him in, and then Nystrom leaves a couple of hours later, sans case.

  “That doesn’t add up in the timeline,” I said, after a moment. “Shots were heard just this morning, and based on the state of the body, Wainwright couldn’t have been dead for more than two or three hours.”

  “That’s because Wainwright was still alive. The evening after Nystrom left, Wainwright ordered a pizza delivered. The recording’s crystal clear, you can see him pay the pizza delivery man. But that’s where things go chueco. Sometime after midnight, the recordings go fuzzy, and then completely dead. The entire unit malfunctioned, only hours before the murder took place.”

  I rubbed the side of my temple with my free hand, trying to stave off the headache that threatened to blossom. “That was…awfully convenient.”

  “There’s an idea what that strange weapon might be, too. The weapons case Nystrom brought to Wainwright matches the specs for a Helferich 262, also known as the ‘Demon’ on the black market. A weapon that Nystrom developed for his employer. Care to guess who that is?”

  “You have to be kidding me. Crossbow?” Though unexpected, it felt right. Archer had even told me that his firm was into ‘weapons development’.

  “We’ve got an APB out for Nystrom right now. I think that when we find him, he’ll sing. We’re going to set up a little chat with Grayson Archer as well. See if he knows what his employees have been up to.”

  I nodded, almost in disbelief. For once, a little legwork – done by someone other than myself! – was paying off. Seeing Archer in the hot seat would be a welcome change.

  So long as the man didn’t find a way to wriggle out of it.

  “That’s the good news,” Esteban said, in a hushed voice. He paused, and the sound of other people talking receded in the background. “I miss you terribly, you know.”

  “I know.” The bad feeling in the pit of my stomach returned, doubling in force. “I just don’t feel safe at my place. And I really wanted to come stay at yours, okay? Don’t think it means–”

  “It’s okay,” he said, gently hushing me. “You made the right call. We need to keep our relationship quiet for a bit. Things in the department are getting…strange.”

  That news sent a chill racing down my back.

  Things are getting strange.

  I didn’t like the sound of that at all.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Given how my life has been this past year, ‘strange’ has an awfully broad definition. Most of the time it’s not a positive definition, either.”

  “I can’t argue with that,” Esteban admitted. “For starters, Vega must’ve told you that she got promoted when you saw her at the Wainwright place, right?”

  “She did. And then she told me that she’d requested reassignment as soon as the paperwork went through. When I asked why, she said that I should mind my own business.”

  “I suppose you noticed that she’s getting difficult to deal with.”

  “Difficult? The way she came off practically gave me a case of frostbite.”

  “Then you definitely need to be in the know. Lieutenant Ollivar assigned Maxwell Cohen’s murder over to Vega this morning. So you can expect to deal with her on that as well.”

  “That’s just great.” I paced up and down beside the row of cherry tomatoes, trying and failing to enjoy the scents of the growing garden. “Was there anything said at the meeting about that case? I’m kind of invested in that one.”

  “Hang o
n.” A rattling sound came from the phone, and I heard Esteban call out to a couple of people, wishing them a safe drive home. “Sorry. Shift change is letting out. I have to move somewhere else to talk.”

  “Take your time,” I told him.

  While I waited, I glanced around to check on my three companions. Galen remained at the tree line, moving his hands back and forth, casting a web of incantations. Liam wandered off to the far side of the garden, where he decided to snack on some of the newly grown lettuce.

  There were plenty of small birds flitting about in the trees, but I was pretty sure that I had Shaw pegged. High overhead, an otherwise unremarkable little brown bird soared in wide circles, catching the rising thermal updrafts off the surrounding hills. That was behavior seen more commonly in California condors or red-tailed hawks, not common sparrows. And it was the exact same energy-saving maneuver I’d seen griffins use when beginning a hunt.

  “Okay, that’s better,” Esteban said, as he got back on the line. “Vega’s kicked off the process to get a court order sent to Cohen’s cell phone carrier. Once it’s approved, the LAPD can legally request the phone’s tracking information. That should tell us where Cohen made his last call from. I better ask you up front: What did you tell the investigators about that call you got from him?”

  “The truth.” I quickly corrected myself by adding, “Most of it, anyway. I told them I’d hired Cohen to look into a private legal matter for me. The morning of his death, he’d called to tell me that he’d gotten a lead.”

  “That’s it? Come on, they must’ve pressed you a little harder than that.”

  “They pressed me pretty hard. But I kept quiet and insisted that it was a private concern.”

  “Well, that explains it,” he murmured, almost to himself.

  Another chill raced down my back, like a drop of icy rain water.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s probably nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Come on,” I insisted. “Those ‘probably nothings’ can come back to bite us in a big way. What’s going on?”

  He sighed. “What I told you, about things getting ‘strange’ in my department? It’s just…I’ve been hearing stuff.”

  “Go on,” I prompted. I was trying to keep my temper firmly in check, as Esteban really was being helpful. But in my defense, it had been one heck of a day already.

  “It’s all just random things I’ve been hearing through the grapevine. Disturbing things.”

  I gritted my teeth. The words still squeezed out.

  “What, dammit?”

  He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Look…word got out about your dustup in the chief’s office. The confrontation you had with McClatchy, Ollivar and Archer when we found what was left of Cohen on your kitchen table.”

  You mean, when some psycho put it there, I thought. Most likely a psycho named Damon Harrison.

  “So far, Ollivar’s been pretty quiet about that whole thing. And believe it or not, so has McClatchy. And least in public. Even when someone asks him about it, he’s been tight-lipped as I’ve ever seen him.”

  That was news to me. And it was definitely out of character for Bob. So it didn’t make me feel even a single jot better than before. If anything, it worried me even more.

  “What about Grayson Archer?” I finally asked.

  “Archer hasn’t been seen since that afternoon. In fact, the man’s completely gone to ground. No one’s heard McClatchy mention him or his firm since Cohen died. I think that’s why some of this charla loca, this crazy talk, is bubbling up from the ranks. And it’s about you, Dayna.”

  “Of course,” I said wearily. “Nobody can have a discussion anymore without bringing me into it. I need to start charging royalties for the use of my name.”

  Esteban prudently ignored my griping.

  “From what I can tell, at least a couple people in Homicide think you’ve dug up some serious dirt on Crossbow Consulting. They’re saying that the Chief knows about it, and he’s doing his best to cover it up and discredit you.”

  “Well, that’s not bad thing for me, so far as I’m concerned.”

  “But that’s not all.” Esteban paused again, as if he were looking around to make sure no one was listening in. When he spoke again, his voice had dropped even lower. “There are many more officers in Homicide, Missing Persons, and the other departments Cohen worked in who think differently.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Some people around here are under the impression that you’re on this mad crusade against McClatchy and Archer. And they’re saying that you intentionally put Cohen in the line of fire and got him butchered.”

  Esteban’s words hit me like a punch in my already weighted-down stomach.

  “Oh, God,” I gasped, and I bent at the waist for a moment, as if someone had slugged me. “That’s just…I did put him in harm’s way, Alanzo.”

  “We’ve talked about this,” he shot back, his voice hard. “Stop making Max out to be some fresh-faced schoolboy. He walked some of the worst beats in Los Angeles when you and I weren’t even wicked thoughts in our parent’s minds. Cohen was tough as nails, and he knew this line of work. You’re not at fault. I don’t want you thinking you are, not even for a second.”

  I straightened up. Esteban’s words were heartfelt, and they did make me feel better.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I needed to hear that.”

  “Call me the next time you need someone to kick your butt, then,” he said, and I could hear the grin in his voice for a moment. That warmth slid back into cold caution as he added, “I just don’t want these pendejos getting to you that way. Or any other way.”

  “What other way would there be?”

  “I’m not sure. In fact, I’m not even sure about Vega any more, and she was my partner. Just…watch your back, okay?”

  “I promise,” I said. We said goodbye after he made me swear to call him if I felt so much as a twinge of unease. I pressed the button to end the call as a thought ran through my weary brain.

  It’s not paranoia, my mind helpfully reminded me. Not if they really are out to get you.

  I stopped rubbing my temple. At least it looked like nothing else was going to pop up and try to give me a migraine today. That would be a nice change of pace for me.

  A blur of motion caught my eye. I stepped back with a little squeak of surprise as a sparrow plummeted towards the ground before me. With a flash of light, the bird vanished and the leonine bulk of a griffin appeared.

  Shaw landed with a flurry of wing beats that blew my hair back and knocked over the closest tomato plant stakes. His paws hit the turf with a soft thump. The drake’s eyes were narrowed, his voice low and predatory.

  “Mayhap combat is in the offing,” he said, sounding a trifle too eager for my liking.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, as Liam bounded around the corner of the garden to stand at my side. Galen had heard the commotion as well. The Wizard hurriedly picked his way back through the undergrowth towards us.

  “A large white van doth approach from the base of the driveway,” Shaw announced. “‘Tis like the one that thou hast used to transport us from one demesne to another.”

  I threw a worried glance towards the front of the house. It was a fair distance from the road to the crest of the driveway, but whoever it was would be here in less than a minute. And I had no idea who might be coming.

  “Did you see a logo on the side of the van?”

  The griffin cocked his head in confusion. “I do not know thy word, ‘low-go’.”

  I mentally kicked myself again as I tried to figure out how to explain what I meant. Luckily, given my current promotion to Dame-hood, it came in a flash.

  “Was there a sigil of any kind on the side?” I asked, as Galen finally rejoined us.

  To my surprise, Shaw nodded firmly.

  “Aye, one sigil is prominently displayed.” He jabbed one sharp talon towards my belt. “‘Tis like the on
e thou hast carried at thy waist. The van’s sigil lacks thy golden bear. In its place there is a gilded tower.”

  “What are you talking about–”

  Then it finally hit me.

  Shaw was referring to the OME badge I typically wore on duty, which sported the California state grizzly bear. But I knew the sigil with the ‘gilded tower’ as well. It was an Art Deco representation of City Hall.

  And that meant the van was from the Los Angeles Police Department.

  Just my rotten luck.

  Chapter Twenty

  Well, that added a nice extra bit of urgency to things.

  The LAPD was thirty or forty seconds from pulling up at the front door of Wainwright’s house. I wasn’t at all sure what they’d make of a private contractor with the OME still being at the crime scene. If Detective Vega was with them, I’d probably only make my image with her even worse.

  Yet I couldn’t shake the sense that something was going on here. Yes, I’d have to do some fast talking to explain my presence here. But then so would they. There wasn’t any reason for a follow-up visit that came to mind. Especially when Esteban had just told me the current state of the case.

  I wasn’t leaving. If anything, it looked like I might be getting some answers more quickly than I’d first thought.

  “Dayna, I did not find any bullets lodged in the nearby trees,” Galen said, his voice heavy with concern. “Therefore, I see no reason for us to be here. Shall I transport us back to Andeluvia?”

  I shook my head. “No. I want to find out what’s going on.”

  “If this is out of the ordinary, then we’d better keep close,” Liam cautioned. “We can’t let anything happen to you.”

  Shaw and Galen nodded vigorously in agreement. They were right, of course. The fact that they’d be watching my back made me feel a heck of a lot better.