The Trail of Ruins

by Shannon Reber

  Erkens beckoned me over. “The van was in West Mifflin night before last.”

  I brought up the traffic photo of the van and turned my phone to show the guy.

  He eyed it for a second before he looked over at the other two. “Did either of you take the van off the Hollow?” he asked, drawing them over with a beckoning gesture.

  The first guy shook his head.

  The second guy smiled, resting his arm on Frank’s shoulder. “That thing’s not really a chick magnet, you know?” he asked, grinning over at Ian. “Am I right? You go out in the middle of the night, you want a car that’ll make the ladies turn to look at you.”

  I ignored the guy. Since my phone was already raised, I was able to get a picture of all three of them without them noticing.

  After a few seconds, they were confirmed as human. That was when I started the search in facial recognition.

  Since that would take a few minutes, I turned my attention back to the guys. Erkens spoke to Frank, his cop-face there in full force. The other guy, whose name I didn’t know yet, stood with Ian. That was the conversation I tuned in on.

  Ian’s narrowed eyes and clenched jaw told me clearly he was not happy about his conversation. It didn’t look like a conversation at all. The guy he stood with was doing ALL the talking.

  “Oh, she wanted me so bad,” he finished off some story, clapping Ian on the shoulder like they were best friends.

  I brushed my arm against Ian’s, hoping to keep him at least a little calm.

  He scowled at the guy but didn’t speak, something he wouldn’t have done not so long before. He had always been of the, berate first ask questions later, school of thought.

  The guy laid his hand on Ian’s shoulder and leaned on him. “Oh, come on, bro. You need to loosen up.” He glanced at me and gave an obvious wink. “You could both--”

  My phone beeped, indicating there was a result in the facial recognition software. I opened the app and my heart sank.

  The guy who thought Ian and I needed to loosen up was another ex-con. Knox Pagalba had spent two years in prison for ‘possession with intent to sell’ and ‘contributing to the delinquency of a minor’. That wasn’t his first trip to prison, either. There were even more drug charges in his record.

  It surprised me that the Hollow would hire an ex-con. It wasn’t a standard practice. Most companies would do a background check and finding that a guy had done time would make things a lot harder.

  I got into the employee information for the Hollow and discovered why that would be. Knox Pagalba wasn’t listed as an employee. The picture in their file was listed next to Knox Page.

  Okay. So he was using a false identity. It made sense because of how hard it was for someone with a criminal record to get a job. Falsifying records would get him in even more trouble but the fact he was working was, in my opinion, a good thing.

  He was an addict. That shouldn’t be a crime. He needed help to overcome his addiction, not to be locked away for it. That would only set him up to fail over and over.

  I stuck my phone back in my bag and gave the guy a hard look. “Knox Pagalba,” I said just to get his attention.

  He flicked his eyes toward Frank before he let out a small laugh. “Sorry, sweetheart. You got the wrong guy. I’m Knox Page.”

  I inclined my head. “I don’t care what your name is or what you were in prison for. All I want to know is who was in the van on Thursday at two o’clock in the morning.”

  “Nobody,” he said fast, then gave a long pause before he went on. “They’re talking about trading that van in for a bucket truck, make it easier for us to work on the trees. The van’s old and the ladder is super wobbly. It’d be good to have something stable to work from when we’re working on the trees. The trail stuff is harder work, clearing brush and all but the trees need attention too, especially after a storm.”

  He rambled for a while about the trees and the work they did. It was obvious he was nervous. It was even more obvious that he was a terrible liar. All he was doing was drawing attention to the fact he knew something.

  I stood there and listened to his blathering, wondering if maybe there would be a random piece of true or useful information stuck in there for good measure. It really was no wonder the guy had done time. He was no criminal mastermind.

  Erkens stepped over, something that apparently made Knox even more nervous. The guy talked even faster and louder than he had before.

  Frank stepped over as well. He cocked his head, then shook it as he cleared his throat to cut in. “Knox, the truck needs to be unloaded,” he stated, clearly as sick and tired of Knox’s voice as we were.

  Erkens didn’t comment on that. All he did was motion us toward the door.

  Ian and I followed him but I glanced back before we left. Knox watched us, crossing and uncrossing his arms as he frowned. When he saw me looking, he glanced away, rubbing at the back of his neck.

  I waited until we’d gotten into Erkens’ truck before I spoke. “We need to follow Knox,” I told him, bringing up the information I’d gotten from Quinn’s app to show to him.

  Erkens cursed. “Ian, if you and Spencer would keep an eye on the guy, I’d like to talk to the Turner kid and see if he’s a good fit for the office. If he is, I’ll send him out with Madison to relieve you and Spencer in a few hours.”

  THIRTEEN

  Spencer waited for us in the parking area at the office. I hadn’t seen him since he’d gone to speak with the Valkyries. He looked peaceful like he’d had a very good day.

  He leaned back on the hood of his car and smiled. “You guys all look like you could use some coffee,” he said, his eyes alight with his own personal amusement.

  Erkens didn’t respond to that. “What did you find out from the Valkyries?” he demanded, tapping his foot as he pursed his lips.

  Spencer shrugged. “Not much. They don’t know of any summoners in this area but they’re looking into it. They’re not happy about souls being called back. Very not happy.”

  I suppressed a shiver. The idea of the ‘choosers of the slain’ being angry was a little disconcerting. They were, according to legend, the ones who decided where souls lost in battle were taken. They were not creatures it would be a good idea to piss off.

  Erkens humphed. “None of us are happy,” he growled, turning toward the office. “Keep me posted.”

  Spencer waved after him, motioning Ian toward his car. “Come on. Let’s get some coffee and food,” he said, getting into his car before Ian could respond.

  He ran his hand down my arm and gave me a searching look. “I’ll see you later, Mads,” he said, squeezing my hand before he turned to get into the car.

  I lifted my hand in a wave and turned to the office. I didn’t like the idea of them following Knox. It was true that the guy was a drug addict and I believed he needed help more than he needed to be locked up. It was also true that even the most peaceful person will attack if they’re cornered.

  I got into Knox’s file the moment I walked into the office. I didn’t look at Erkens or pay attention to what he was doing. Something niggled at the back of my mind and I needed to figure out what it was.

  The file was a sad read. Knox had grown up in the foster care system. His father had spent most of Knox’s childhood in prison and his mom had walked out on them a few months after he was born.

  Once he’d turned eighteen, things had gotten even harder for him. His first stint in prison seemed like it had been rough. He’d spent about half his time in the infirmary.

  His school record, police record, and employment record told a story that made me understand why he’d fallen into the trap of drug use. He needed help and no one had ever stood up for him. Whatever he was hiding, whatever he’d done, he was a victim.

  My mouth fell open when I found the connection that tied the whole story together. Manny Dozorca and Knox Pagalba had been cellmates in prison. Manny worked at the cemetery. Knox worked at the Hollow.

  I didn’t kn
ow how those two puzzle pieces fit together. Once we got the rest of the story, I knew those two facts would tie everything into a neat bow.

  Erkens got to his feet when a knock sounded on the office door. I glanced up, seeing Twitter sitting on the chair next to mine, his eyes fixed on the door as well. His tail made small flicks back and forth, his ears pointed forward.

  Since he tended to be my gauge of if someone was trustworthy or not, I watched him as Erkens opened the door. He stayed in that same posture, watching as Erkens beckoned Quinn’s brother in.

  To my surprise, he stopped at the sight of the cat and pressed his hands together in front of himself. He didn’t move or speak. He just stood and waited.

  Twitter jumped off the chair and walked over, circling him once before he walked back to me. He jumped up into my lap and settled himself there like the ruler of a kingdom.

  That was when I looked at the guy. I knew nothing about Quinn’s other brother. I didn’t even know his name. All I knew was that he was the ‘human brother’.

  The guy who stood there was around Ian’s age and a good bit taller than me. His spiky, dark hair and terracotta skin made me think he was at least part Spanish. He wore a pair of khakis and a Manga t-shirt that made me want to laugh.

  “I wondered who got Quinn into Manga,” I said, recalling that as one of the first things Quinn had told me about herself.

  He grinned and shook his head. “Nope. She’s the one who got me into it. Dawson’s the only one in our weird little family who’s not into it,” he said, holding out his hand to Erkens. “Sir, I’m Daw Turner,” he said, his voice holding a slight rasp.

  I lifted my phone and snapped a picture of him, deciding that since this was an interview, no holds were barred. His heat signature confirmed him as human but oddly, there was no birth record of him anywhere. It was like he popped into existence at the age of fourteen.

  I motioned to the chair next to mine as Erkens walked around to his side of the desk. “Where were you before the age of fourteen?” I asked abruptly, watching him closely to see if he would tell me the truth.

  “I was in a fae realm,” he said, looking hard at me. “Basically, I was stolen from my parents and raised by the King’s daughter. I know a lot about fae magic, as well as some ways to counter it. I also have knowledge of other realms and a serious need to be in Pittsburgh.”

  “Why?” Erkens asked, steepling his fingers as he looked at Daw.

  He looked Erkens straight in the eye without flinching. “Because I want to be part of the fight to bring the PSA down. I’m no fan of Angelica, not after everything she’s done but I’m not going to let my family risk their lives to try and help her while I sit back.”

  “And what if we can’t bring the PSA down?”

  Daw smirked a little. “Have you met my sister?” he asked, his smile widening. “And from everything she’s told us about Madison, there’s no way they’re not going down.”

  Erkens considered, then turned to look at me. “I’ll leave it up to you. This is your family. If you want Daw to be part of our fight, I’m okay with it.”

  “Oh. Wow. No pressure,” I snarked at him, turning my head to look at Daw. “You give me advice on what to get Quinn for her birthday and I’m good with you working with us.”

  He snorted out a laugh. “Sweet,” he said and lifted a single shoulder. “She’s a huge Star Trek fan, so pretty much anything that has to do with ‘live long and prosper’ and she likes it. That, Manga, nerd stuff, she’s not picky.”

  I laughed, my plan for her present suddenly laid in stone. “Since it’s up to me, you’re hired,” I told him, even more amused when Twitter jumped off my lap to go over and jump into Daw’s.

  Erkens nodded. “I’m glad we have this all settled. Now, Daw, we are working a case that has to do with revenants, some kind of soul summoner, some exhumed bodies, and a very suspicious group of people. If you have any knowledge about anything like that, I’d be pleased to hear it. If you don’t, we have some leg-work to do.”

  Daw looked up from Twitter, his eyes narrowed. “Wait, really? Quinn made me write out a whole resume and you’re hiring me without even looking at it?” he asked, looking from one to the other of us with his mouth open.

  “If you want the job, it’s yours.”

  “I want the job,” he said, thinking for a minute. “I did meet a guy who could summon souls back from their afterlife but he was a witch. There are a lot of paranormals in the world, I know but I think that might be what you’ve got going on here. A spell.”

  My eyes bugged. “You’re right,” I whispered, starting to search through the ‘Lex’ menu. “If it’s a witch doing this, they’re not going to set off any of Quinn’s warnings. The only way to stop a spell is to stop the one doing the spell and that can be tricky.”

  Daw smirked at me. “Mini-Quinn in action,” he teased, looking around the office. “A mirror can rebound a spell but it only works if you know the spell is coming at you. You’d be better off with an amulet of protection.”

  Erkens nodded to me. “Madison and I are protected. If you’re not, I do have a few other ways to protect you.”

  Daw grinned and drew a leather cord out from under his shirt. “There’s a reason the PSA doesn’t know me and Dawson exist. King Adair has his moments of cool.” He tucked the amulet under his shirt and motioned to Twitter. “There’s also the fact you have a Kottr. He is a protector. They’re presented to a Valkyrie as a reward for valor. Looks like you’ve been made an honorary Valkyrie.”

  I sighed, still aching over the case where I’d met Aldora. “It was a tough one. An incubus and a human teamed up to do a sex trafficking ring. Somehow, they captured a Valkyrie. She’s the one who saved most of the girls. I just killed the demon.”

  His eyes went so wide, the white could be seen all the way around. “You killed a demon?” he asked, showing a single crooked tooth on his bottom row of teeth as his mouth fell open too.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Yeah,” I said slowly, not sure why he sounded like he didn’t believe me.

  Daw blew out a breath. “Uh, Madison, if a demon gets out of line in the fae realm, a team of fae warriors is sent to deal with it. Those teams have magic and magical weapons and most of the time, they don’t make it back. The fact you killed a demon powerful enough to take a Valkyrie, it’s more than impressive.”

  I shrugged. “Adrenaline and luck, plus salt and a portal generator. It’s not that impressive,” I said, standing up and walking to the protections cabinet. “We’ve got a guy in our revenant case who’s making us very suspicious. He’s an ex-con who was acting pretty squirrely when we talked to him. Ian and Spencer are following him and if you’re cool with it, you and I will relieve them later.”

  “Fine by me,” he said, his eyes fixed on the cabinet. “Did Quinn give you those or do you get them from a hunting-supplier?” he asked, motioning to the box of demon mace and grenades.

  Erkens answered before I could voice my confusion. “I get them through a supplier downtown. It’s actually where you two should go.” He leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers on the desk. “I need to check on Bukowski, see what he’s up to. Maybe I can get more information out of Bertie too.”

  I nodded but kept my eyes fixed on Daw. “Why did you think Quinn gave us demon-mace?” I asked, slinging the strap of my bag across my body.

  Daw nodded to the cabinet. “Quinn designed those things. She’s invented a LOT of different ways to protect us.” He said it like it was no big deal but it was clear he was proud of Quinn’s accomplishments.

  I shook my head in wonderment. “That is so cool. That mace saved my life, which means Quinn saved my life. I am loving our sister right now.”

  Daw laughed. “Yeah. Same. She’s annoying most of the time but you can’t help but love her,” he said, standing up only after Twitter had jumped to my vacated chair. “Do I need to fill any paperwork out or anything like that?” he asked Erkens.

  “You
do. Madison already ran your background check, so for legal reasons, I need you to sign a permission form for that check. I’ve also got some insurance forms you’ll need to fill out.” He pulled open a drawer in the bottom of his desk and took out a form.

  Daw smirked, scrawling his signature on the permission form before he handed it back.

  Erkens put it in the drawer and handed over the insurance papers. “Get them back to me tomorrow.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Daw? Stop calling me, sir. I’m Erkens.”

  Daw inclined his head. “Got it,” he said, making the same gesture to Twitter that he’d made when he came in.

  Twitter ignored him, just laying down after his usual plethora of circles.

  “Keep me posted on what’s going on with Bukowski,” I said to Erkens, lifting my hand in a wave.

  He huffed. “I will but you need to do the same with me. No more leaving things out of the file,” he ordered, waving us off before I could respond.

  I sighed deeply as we got out into the hallway. “I’m never going to live that down,” I complained, shooting Daw an arch eyebrowed look. “Mind if I ask you about your name?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Angelica had some seriously psychotic PTSD. She switched me with Dawson but she was so messed up, she called me Dawson too. Kelton’s the one who started calling me Daw. It just stuck.”

  “Kelton . . . Imogen’s cousin?”

  “Yeah. Angelica is Kelton and Dawson’s bio Mom. When I found the Turners, they just adopted me so I’m both their biological and adopted kid.”

  “Okay, so biologically, Imogen, Kelton, and Dawson are family.”

  “Right.”

  “And you’re Quinn’s parent’s biological son?”

  “Right again.”

  “Wow. And I thought my life was complicated.”

  He chuckled and shrugged. “It’s about to get more complicated. When Quinn told us about you, Mom about had a breakdown. She wants to meet you but she wants to be your mom too. You’re about to turn into a Turner.”