by Peter Glenn
“Oh, yes.” I let out a nervous laugh. “Of course. You’d probably want to see that, wouldn’t you?”
Rick shook his head and rolled his eyes, but said nothing.
I fished in my pocket for my phone and pulled it out. I turned on the camera app and loaded up the pictures I’d taken from last night. “Here they are,” I said, motioning for Rick to lean in close. He did. “See? There was blood everywhere at the scene, but some of the patterns didn’t make sense.”
“Humm,” Rick said. He reached for my phone with one hand, and I gave it to him. He thumbed through several of the photos, furrowing his brow and frowning at a couple. “I don’t know, Damian. These look like pretty standard blood spatters to me, but then, I’m no crime scene expert.”
“Are you sure?” I said. “Look at that last one again. I could have sworn it looked like a rune, or some ancient letters.”
Rick squinted at the photo for several seconds. “I’m not sure, Damian. It’s possible, I suppose, if you look at it upside down, but even then… I’m just not sure.” He handed the phone back to me. “I’m sorry, Damian, but I think it’s just random.” He let out a deep sigh. “I know that’s not what you wanted to hear, but it’s what I’ve got. I’m sorry.”
“Please, just look again,” Charmaine pleaded. “I think Damian might be right on this one. That one does kind of look like a word in old Latin.”
Rick arched one of his eyebrows. “You know old Latin?”
Charmaine nodded. “Well, sort of. I mean, it wasn’t exactly old when I learned it.”
Rick’s eyes grew wide. “How old did you say you were, exactly?”
“I didn’t.”
“Right.” Rick’s face paled another degree and he adjusted himself in his seat. “Well, anyway, I suppose it could be, but it still looks pretty random to me. Depending on the angle of the blows and such, just about anything can happen.” He pulled on his face. “Look, I just don’t want to give you any sort of false hope. I’m no forensic expert or anything.”
“Okay, if you’re sure,” I said, sounding a little deflated. This was what I’d been hanging my hopes on, but I should have known better. I was lucky, sure, but not that lucky.
Rick gave me a curt nod. “Positive.”
“Well, thanks anyway,” I said, sliding the phone back into my pocket. “I guess I was just desperate to see something, you know. Have some sort of hope for getting Daequan out of there.”
“Sure.” Rick’s face eased into a tired smile. “I understand. Have you gone to the police with this? They might have someone that can read the blood patterns better than I can.”
I shook my head. “No, I thought it’d be better to come to you first, but I guess we can do that.”
Rick clasped his hands together and leaned further back in his chair. “Well, why don’t you do that, then, and let an old man get back to his work.”
“Old?” I protested. “You do know I’m like two hundred eighty years your senior, young man.”
Rick laughed at last. “Whatever you say, Damian.” He made a shooing motion. “Now, let me get back to work, unless you have something else?”
“Well, there is one tiny thing,” Charmaine said. She was hesitant and her face looked ashen.
“Yes?” Rick blurted. “Well, let me see it, then.”
“It’s… it’s a photo of the body. Of the victim.”
She spoke slowly like she was having trouble getting the words to leave her mouth. I looked at her hands and saw them trembling slightly. The fear from last night and stumbling upon the scene had returned.
I put my hand on hers and squeezed gently. “It’s okay, Charmaine. The killer’s not here. You can do this.”
“Okay.” She reached into her pocket with her other hand and pulled out her phone without letting go of mine.
Her phone had one of those facial recognition locks, so she was able to unlock it with one hand as she handed it over to Rick. “Here,” she said, holding her phone outstretched as far away from her head as she could and slightly looking away at the same time. “There’s a pic of the body on the phone here. I took it last night after I almost… tripped… over him.”
“Sorry,” I said to Rick. “She’s a little squeamish about seeing dead bodies these days.”
“Say what now?” He furrowed his brow. “I thought you said she was a vampire?”
“That doesn’t mean I’m a killer!” Charmaine blurted out, her eyes turning a fiery bright color.
Rick winced and leaned back. “Sorry. You’re right, I should know better by now than to judge people like that.” He let out another sigh. “Let me have a look.”
He took the phone gingerly from her fingers and flicked on the camera app. “Huh,” he said after looking at the first photo for a few minutes. “I don’t suppose you have any more of these?”
“No,” Charmaine said. “I wasn’t exactly saving these for posterity or anything.”
“Sure, sure,” Rick replied. “Just need to zoom in on this thing.”
For a second, it looked like Charmaine was going to get up and do it for him, but Rick waved her off. He put his fingers on the screen and pulled apart. He did that a couple of times and hummed again. “Now this is interesting. Damian, come here, take a look at this.”
I moved in closer and looked where Rick was pointing. It was a blood pattern on Donald’s shirt. At first, it looked like the blood trails from a couple of random knife slashes, but the more I studied it, the more it looked like...
“Is that… Chinese writing?” I asked.
“Uh huh,” Rick said. “But old Chinese. Much older than you are, so I don’t blame you for not recognizing it at first.”
“Gee, thanks,” I scowled.
I really should have known what it said, but I had never been that good a student of history or language, so I had no idea.
Finally, I caved. “So what does it say, big shot?”
Rick shrugged. “I’m not sure exactly, either. Something about death or power I think, but like I said, it’s an old dialect, so I could be reading it wrong. I’d need to study it further to give you any real clue about its meaning.”
“That’s fine,” I told him. “Here.” I beckoned for him to give me the phone and he did. With a few quick swipes, I emailed the picture to his account and handed the phone back to Charmaine after closing the camera app first.
“You should have it now. Study it all you want.”
“Thanks,” Rick said. “Oh, and give me the other photos you took, too, Damian. Now that I know I’m looking for ancient Chinese symbols, I might be able to find something there, as well.”
“You’re the best, Rick!” I reached forward and patted him on the arm. “Want to come in for a hug?” I leaned forward further, arms out to the sides.
Rick retracted from my touch like I was a poisonous snake.
“Oh, yeah. Not the physical type. I keep forgetting about that. Sorry.” I gave him my best sheepish look and backed off. He’d told me he wasn’t touchy on our last adventure together, but I had a short memory for that kind of thing and had forgotten.
“It’s okay,” Rick said. He looked at me like I was a leper, though, so I knew it really wasn’t okay and I’d screwed up. Again. I’d have to make it up to him later. Maybe a gift basket.
“Thanks, Rick. I’ll zip up all my photos and send them to you in a little bit. You can filter through them however you want.” I brought the conversation back to business. Maybe that would help ease the unintentional hurt.
“Sounds good. I’ll look into it once I’m finished with my current project.”
“Umm,” I bit my lip slightly. “Is there any way you could, you know…”
“Do it now and forget all about my actual work?” He gave me a devilish glare as he spoke.
“Yeah. That.” I let out a nervous laugh and smiled as broad as I could. “Pretty please, with sugar on top?”
“And I suppose there’s going to be reimbursement for my time
?”
“I can pay you whatever you like,” Charmaine blurted before I could say anything.
She was halfway to reaching for a credit card when Rick put his hand out to stop her. “It’s all right. We can settle up once I know how much actual time it’ll take me to look into this. And I won’t charge you as much as I charged Damian last time.” He gave her a warm smile. “I know this is for a good cause, and I’m happy to help.”
Charmaine nodded. “Thank you. Daequan will want to thank you, too, when he’s free. I can bring him by and we can–”
“No need for that,” Rick blurted out. He cleared his throat. “I mean, it’s okay, I’m just happy to help any way I can. Wrongful arrests are serious business.”
“Thank you again,” Charmaine said. She extended her hand, and he shook it.
I wondered for a brief moment what he thought of the experience. Vampire skin, from what I could tell, was a little on the cold side and kind of clammy. I wagered it was probably a little off-putting for poor old Rick, but to his credit, he said nothing and didn’t squirm out of it.
“All right, you two,” Rick said a moment later. “If you want me to actually get started on this, then you need to skedaddle so I can break out my ancient Chinese textbooks.”
“You got it, boss,” I said, grinning. I gave Rick a salute, which he returned. “We’ll be on our way.”
I started for the door and was halfway out of it when Rick called after me.
“Oh, and Damian?”
I spun to face him. “Yes?”
“Next time, make an appointment!”
I suppressed a giggle and headed out of his office without so much as another word.
7
To say I was nervous would have been an understatement, though why I was nervous was anyone’s guess. There really wasn’t anything to be nervous about. At least, not yet.
I’d said my goodbyes for the moment to Charmaine. She’d mentioned wanting to go try to visit Daequan again and update him on the case details, and we’d both agreed that it would be best if she did it by herself. I’d played the lawyer shtick last night, and we didn’t need me mucking up a familial visit with extra questions.
But she’d let me borrow her car, which was great, because that way, I didn’t have to go and bug Sevin to borrow his instead.
Not that Sevin would have minded. He was pretty great about that sort of thing, always giving me just about anything I asked for. I think he idolized me a little bit. Or he was just being nice because I’d saved Mei a few months ago, and he had a thing for Mei. That was probably more likely.
Of course, Mei had a werewolf for a boyfriend—not Hank, Hank was married—so that wasn’t going anywhere, either, but that was none of my business.
Anyway, I’d emailed Rick my photos, and after that, I had a little time to go do whatever I wanted before I had to meet back up with Charmaine in three hours.
So I did the only thing I could think of. I drove over to LaLuna’s place.
Now, I was outside the door to her little house in Ravensdale, holding tight to a little package I’d brought with me, staring at the thing like it was a demon or something.
There was a tightness in my chest and a knot in my gut, and as much as I wanted to go forward and knock on the door like I’d done a half dozen times in the past few weeks, I was having trouble bringing myself to do just that.
Why I was having trouble, though, I couldn’t determine. This was LaLuna I was talking about. She liked me. Like, liked me liked me. And I felt the same way about her. So why was I nervous this time? Was it the gift I’d brought with me? Was I afraid she’d hate it?
No. I shook my head as an aberrant thought came into my head. I knew exactly what it was. It was my mother. Or rather, the conversation about dating I’d had with her last night. That had kind of brought all my feelings front and center and made me start to wonder where everything stood between LaLuna and I, and I was only just starting to realize that.
I could curse my mother for making me think like this. LaLuna and I were great like we were. I didn’t need a label to describe the relationship. Why was she so insistent I had one, anyway?
Flustered, I smacked the steering wheel with my free hand, inadvertently making the horn blare for a half second.
I retracted my hand and nursed it. That little stunt had hurt worse than I’d have thought possible.
Worse, it had no doubt alerted LaLuna to my presence. No hiding it any further, I supposed.
I opened the car door and quickly hid my little package behind my back before LaLuna could see it. It was just a simple thing wrapped in a brown paper bag, but I didn’t want her to see it right away. Suddenly, it felt so insufficient a gift, whereas a few minutes before, it had seemed like the perfect thing.
Curse my mother and her stupid mind games.
LaLuna opened her door a second later while I was still scrambling to look presentable and stood there in the doorway, smiling at me. Her blue hair and eyes shone even under the overcast sky. She was wearing a light gray knit sweater and simple blue jeans, but it looked amazing on her.
“Hey, stranger,” she said.
I beamed back up at her. “Hey, you.” It was a simple greeting, but it’s what we used. It was better than all those stupid little nicknames like “sweetie pie” or “honey.”
She beckoned for me to come forward. “Hurry on in. It’s cold out here, and I don’t want to let all the cold air inside. For Grace’s sake, of course.”
“Of course.” I nodded, but continued to stand there looking like an idiot for probably a full minute before doing anything.
“Something wrong?” LaLuna cocked her head to the side as she spoke.
It was only then that I realized I was still standing there with the car door open. I mentally cursed my mother again and slammed the door shut with more force than I really should have and took a few steps forward.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “I’m on this case, and it’s made me a little jittery, I guess.”
That had nothing to do with it, but I really didn’t want to bring up my mother’s craziness in front of LaLuna if I could avoid it. The less she got embroiled with my mother, the better.
LaLuna flashed me another smile and beckoned me onward once again. “Come here, darling. Let me ease your mind for a bit.”
This time, I needed no urging, and I came to her, planting a small kiss on her cheek but saying nothing as I slid past her into the small house.
“Nice to see you, too,” she mumbled. She said something else under her breath, as well, but I didn’t catch it.
I took a look around the living room of the house. There was a two-person couch against one wall, and a TV on the opposite one with a small coffee table in the middle. There were a few food cartons on the table, but otherwise, the room was spotless. Not even a hint of a diaper or a child’s toy, which was remarkable, given that LaLuna was essentially a single mother at this point.
And to a fae baby, at that. I could only imagine the kind of complexity that could add to the issue. Briefly, I wondered if Grace’s magic had revealed itself yet. Probably not. LaLuna probably would have called or texted about that.
“Take a seat,” LaLuna offered, motioning toward the couch. “And let’s unpack what’s going on with you today.”
“You noticed, huh?” I gave her a weak smile.
“Kind of hard not to,” she admitted. “Come on, take a seat and take a load off. We can talk about whatever is bothering you.”
“Sounds… good.”
I made my way over to the couch, side-stepping the coffee table, and turned back to face LaLuna. She’d just finished closing the front door and was grinning at me with a slightly worried expression on her face.
“Here,” I said, bringing my little package to the fore and shoving it practically into her chest. “This is for you.”
“A gift? For me?” LaLuna looked appropriately surprised. “You shouldn’t have.”
“I know, I kno
w, you shouldn’t give gifts to fae. It makes them feel indebted to you and all that, and you don’t really want a favor from a fae. You’ve told me all this before.” It was an old speech she’d given me at least three times by now. But I never listened.
“True,” LaLuna said. Her eyes lit up and she beamed at me. “But for you, I’ll make an exception. Again.”
“Besides,” I added, gently unfolding the top of the package. “It’s not so much a gift as a shared experience.”
“Oh?” LaLuna arced an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
I finished opening the package and offered LaLuna one of the rather large, oblong containers from within, taking the other in my own hand. She accepted it, staring at the swirling, multi-colored contents with a look of confusion and amusement.
“No flowers, huh?”
“Uh, no. It’s pho,” I told her. She gave me a confused look. “It’s Asian food. Not Chinese, but a close neighbor. Vietnam. It’s kind of a delicacy, and it’s really good.”
“So, food, then?” LaLuna asked. I nodded. She chuckled just a little bit. “You always do think with your stomach first, don’t you?”
I shrugged. “At least I’m consistent?”
“Oh, Damian, you always make me smile.”
She patted me on the cheek, then headed over to the kitchen and produced a couple spoons and a pair of chopsticks for me. I had no idea when she’d learned about them or where she’d gotten them, but one day they’d showed up. Then she motioned for me to sit next to her on the small couch, and I readily agreed.
“So tell me more about this ‘pho’ of yours,” LaLuna asked, her eyes locked with mine.
I could handle that. Maybe it’d keep me from thinking more about my mother. One could hope.
“Well, like I said, it’s a really big food in parts of Asia, and you can find it all over in Seattle, and the surrounding areas, too. Of course, if you listen to my mother, all noodle-based dishes originated from China, but I barely pay her any mind.”
I clapped a hand over my mouth. I’d gone and done it. I’d mentioned the “m” word around LaLuna. Damn it.