Evading The Tempest (Tempest tales Book 1)

by Sandra Elsa

  "Sounds like there's more to it?" Rollick was always good at picking up nonverbal clues.

  "Call me paranoid, but if I haven't been paid for something, it stays in a safe place. The office is too well known. I have another safe at my house with the photos I took the second week."

  "That's our girl," Wally said, daring to pat my back as though I were a trained dog who'd just done a new trick. Had his common sense flown out the window? "Let's get down there, and hope this perp doesn't know where you live."

  I glanced at my investigator's license in its frame beside the door. It clearly stated my residence was in District Eight, apt. 39, 4167 Olean Lane.

  Wally followed my glance and cursed, "Damn it all, let's roll."

  I ran to keep up with them and didn't even argue when Rollick shoved me away from my car to the Hummer. I climbed in the back seat and huddled forward to catch their conversation. Wally placed a magnetic light on top of the vehicle and turned it on. Rollick picked up the radio and warned the gate we were headed their way and weren't planning on stopping. He then contacted dispatch and informed them we would be in District Eight in twenty-five minutes..

  Slowing at the curtain seemed an interminable amount of time. We raced out the gate and through the barren landscape between districts. After Rollick finished speaking to the dispatcher, who was sending a squad of local watch to my home, the two men sat, stiffly silent, their minds working over the evening.

  I stared out the window at the desolation, barely visible in the final rays of sunshine. It'd been that way all my life and I rarely paid attention to the bleached crystalline toothpicks, which books claimed used to be trees, or the river courses, long since gone dry. The only reason anybody ever looked out there was if a dust storm threatened to bury them. Just now it was a distraction. Better to contemplate the ruin of our planet than the ruin of my apartment. I gnawed the tips of my fingers; the nails never got a chance to grow.

  Rollick picked up the radio and called ahead as we neared District Eight. Cars were pulled to the right and Wally touched the siren as we approached, leaving it on as we hit the district's busy streets.

  Wally drove unerringly to my apartment. “Do you know every district this well?” I asked him. I knew for a fact when I’d tailed his wife around he’d lived in District Twelve.

  “Make you nervous that I know where you live?” He grinned over his shoulder as the seat belts released.

  “Well yeah, kinda.”

  Rollick was out the door and ten feet away by the time Wally opened the back door for me. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Frankie. I know, I came to you. But after you told me about my wife, I sat outside your place every night for about three weeks contemplating all the things I’d like to do to you.”

  “Let’s move,” Rollick called, nodding at the four other Hummers parked in the apartment complex lot. “You two can flirt on your own time.”

  I didn’t know who annoyed me more, Wally for being pissed at the messenger, or Rollick for insinuating stalking was flirting, but his words shook me into motion. “We’ll discuss this later, Sergeant.” I followed Rollick into the building to be greeted by shouts of, “He’s on the second floor,” and, “Headed for the stairs.” Ma’am get back in your apartment.” Sir close the--” A loud thump preceded the last voice cursing, and the tinkle of glass rained down outside the closing door. Rollick headed for the door, taking on his beast as he ran out of his clothing. I got to the door in time to see another wolf leap out of the upstairs window and join Rollick in pursuit of a fleeing biped. Not a normal human; he was outrunning the wolves. The long blond hair told me it was the Sevener, the Movie-Star. Even running away he moved with an uncanny grace. I folded Rollick's clothes and followed Wally up to my third floor apartment.

  One of the District Eight troopers met us at the head of the stair. “He was in the apartment when we arrived. Didn’t have time to trash the whole place, but it’s not pretty.”

  I blew out the breath I hadn’t even been aware of holding. “Let’s go see if he got what he came for.” I headed down the hall. At least there wasn’t an axe sticking out of my door, even if he had blown through my wards, far stronger wards I personally created in a hunter green flow of energy that had covered the entrance. Tatters fluttered from the doorframe, too slight for the Watch to notice now, even if an etheric strand whipped across the troopers face. This guy was ticking me off.

  Behind me I heard Wally questioning the local watch. “Was he armed? Did he hurt anybody?”

  Curiosity got the better of me as I turned to watch the local shake his head in response to both questions. Of course, if somebody could rip the door off my office safe, they probably didn’t need weapons.

  “What was the thump just before he jumped out the window?” Wally asked.

  “Citizen got in his way. Tossed him across the hall.” Why did it make me glad the man didn't seem to be a killer? He was a Sevener, and I needed to get out of this tangle, so what did it matter? Wally continued questioning the trooper, but I turned away.

  Inside my apartment was marginally better than my office. The furniture had not been tossed around, but all my paperwork was scattered. I shook my head, walked into my bedroom, and rolled the carpet back. The floor safe remained undisturbed. Wally stood over me as I punched in the code and opened it.

  I drew out a nine by twelve envelope and paged through it to make sure everything was still there. Photographs of the Movie-Star and Mr. Dead-Self-Important’s blonde goddess of a wife, and all my notes on the case. Including Mr. Self-Important’s actual name. Ron Ludovissy. I looked up as Wally watched expectantly, and handed him the envelope. He removed the photos of the Movie-Star under which I’d written the name, Harrison Kendrel. His eyes darkened a moment before he asked, “How did you find out his name?”

  “The net.” I tried to convey that he must be stupid to even ask that question, without actually saying it.

  “He doesn’t have netspace. One of his relatives doesn’t want people to know who he is.”

  “Missing notice; five days ago.”

  “And this is?” He held out another photograph.

  “Mrs. Ludovissy. Client’s name was Ludovissy. Lived in District Three, down on Central Avenue.”

  “Let’s go check on Mrs. Ludovissy. If she’s still alive she may have some information on her husband’s killer.”

  “Ivy. Her address is in there. I’d prefer not to get any further involved in a case I’m not getting paid for.” I didn't want to visit HQ. That had been the theory behind giving them my notes and photographs.

  “What if this guy comes after you again?”

  “He has no reason to. You’ve been driving me around all evening. He’s got to figure if I had anything on him, I’d turn it over to you. He wasn’t coming after me, he wanted that envelope and it’s all yours.”

  “Damn it, Francesca. Are you forgetting that roomful of bodies? Just because you don’t have what he wants, doesn’t mean he needs a reason to come after you.”

  We both knew the Movie-Star wasn't the one responsible for those bodies. “I need to straighten this place up. It’s already nine o’clock.” I turned around and started to pick up a filing box that had been at the end of the couch. I really didn't need to get further entwined with anybody from District Seven. Bad enough one of them had me in his sights. I didn't care to explain to a passel more that I didn't know what their stray had against me.

  Wally reached down and grabbed my wrist. “Sorry Francesca. You don’t leave me any choice. I need to get down to District Three.” He snapped a cuff on my wrist.

  "What the hell!" I exploded. "You're being an ass, Wally."

  My words didn't slow him down at all. “Francesca Leone, I’m placing you under arrest for your own damn good.”

  Time for action then. Before he could snap the other cuff to his own wrist I swept a leg behind his knees and dropped him to the ground. I kneeled on his chest and said, “I don’t need your protection. And you
have no right.”

  And of course that’s the moment Trooper Rollick chose to stroll back in the room, buck naked. “Damn Sarge, didn’t know you went for the kinky stuff.” The local watch snickered and Wally turned bright pink.

  He rolled out from underneath my unresisting knee and snapped the cuff to his wrist as he stood. “Talk to her, Rollick. She listens to you better. She can‘t stay here alone.”

  “I like him better,” I snarled. “Doesn’t mean I'll do what he tells me.”

  “Be reasonable, Frankie," Rollick said as he drew his pants on. "You know if Sergeant Wallin is concerned about you, there’s a reason to be concerned.”

  Wally didn’t wait for my compliance; he walked off, dragging me along. He turned in the doorway and said to the men of the local watch, “Put this place to rights as best you can, then lock it and leave a guard.” The cuffs chafed both our wrists as I resisted. I contemplated going peacefully, but Wally acted faster, putting his shoulder in my gut, he heaved upward, spinning around to carry me down the steps as I beat on his back with my free hand and cursed him soundly. Fully clothed, Rollick caught up to us before we got outside.

  Wally set me down, unlocked the cuffs and opened the back door of the Hummer. I grumbled as I climbed in, reminding myself, Wally was a friend and probably thought he was being helpful. After all, nobody knew what prompted my aversion to mages. As he backed out of the parking spot, he said to Rollick, “Tell me about the chase.”

  "Not much to tell. Headed downtown. This district isn't like Eleven after dark, but it still has its department stores. He ran into a Zurn's and found a crowd. We searched, but unless he can change his scent, he disappeared. Either possibility’s so rare I’m still racking my brains trying to come up with a third possibility. Didn't think the parents out with their kids would appreciate us changing in the middle of the store to question people, so we curtailed the investigation.”

  “Probably not much to find anyway," Wally muttered. "Lord I hate dealing with Seveners.” He switched on the light and siren and radioed ahead to tell the guards we were on our way.

  “Sooo…You insist on dragging me around,” I bitched from the back seat. “Do I at least get to know why you were out looking for Mrs. Self-Important’s weekly.”

  “He’s a high-and-mighty’s spoiled brat.”

  “What’s with the red eyes?”

  “Family trait. Probably wearing contacts when you saw him, it’s what his father does.”

  “Hell, he’s only been missing a little over three weeks. I take it you’re not liking him as the perp responsible for the contents of the room back in Eleven?”

  “Not really." Thank God. "Some of them have been known to go off the deep-end in a seriously bad way when they step off the reservation, but you’ve already figured out the obvious point; some of those bodies have been there a long time.”

  "Then who are you protecting me from? And why was the Movie-Star in my office, and my house? What is he after? Runaway from the family business, doesn't want anyone to find him?"

  "Something like that." He ignored the first several question. Clearly I'd gotten all I was going to, out of Sergeant Wallin. At least the Movie-Star was smart enough to want freedom.

  "Then why are we rushing off to Mrs. Self-Important's place?"

  "You're smarter than that, Frankie," Rollick said.

  I expected the lack of response, but asking made them believe I didn't have a clue.

  I'd kept a check on whether or not the husband had been reported missing since his failure to appear. He hadn't.

  Husband dead. Lover on the run. Mrs. Ludovissy knew something about that room full of bodies. Wally was trying to make sure they got to talk to her before she figured out they were looking at her. Or before the murderer--if it wasn't her--figured out they were looking at her and did away with the messy witness. I leaned back and closed my eyes.

  "When's the last time you saw Mrs. Ludovissy?" Rollick's voice interrupted my effort to distance myself from the unreality of the day.

  "Yesterday morning. Didn't tail her around, but I was sitting on the apartment, trying for a glimpse of the husband."

  "Determined to get that money?" I could hear the grin in Wally's voice.

  "Have to hound some clients day and night. Of course if I’d known you were sitting in my parking lot, I'd have just stepped out to see you." That should shut him up.

  But it didn't. "Three years ago, Frankie. And I never did anything more than stew in my own juices. I couldn't stop the part that blamed you, but I'm watch, I know we don't always get to pick who we give bad news to. I would never have gotten around to hurting you... God Frankie, there's no way--" he stopped abruptly. Rollick looked over at him. Motion was apparent even from my slouched position as Rollick nudged Wally. Wally frowned at him, then said, "My job got in the middle of my relationship and realistically I have nobody but myself and the whore to blame."

  Rollick threw his hands in the air. What weren't they saying?

  "If you didn't want to know the truth," I said, "you shouldn't have hired me. You wouldn't have, if you didn't already have your own suspicions." Anger and hurt seeped into my voice. He was one of the few members of HQ watch I'd actually thought of as a friend. It had killed me to give him the bad news. "Hell, you could probably have hunted them down yourself."

  "There's a reason I wanted you to give me the news at the precinct. If I'd found them together, I’d have killed him. Maybe her too. The guys held me down long enough to pound some sense into me."

  "Ancient history." The past was the past. "No more sitting in my parking lot unless you're planning to pay me for help on something, or unless you think I might need your help."

  "On my honor, Frankie. If I was still mad at you I wouldn't insist you come along."

  "Figured you were trying to piss me off."

  His cheeks took on a light pink sheen. "I'm sorry you think that. You do good work Frankie. You have some friends at HQ. We don't want you getting hurt."

  "Then you oughta pay me for my time."

  "Better chance of that happening if you'd stop cussing out the chief."

  "Better chance of hell freezing over." Chief Hortimus was a stodgy political figure who'd gotten his position based on the good ol’ boy system, not superior skill and ability. Ninety percent of the females on the watch were wolves or had some limited magic. And he only hired them because EO officers said he had too. He was a throwback to the dinosaurs. Women shouldn't carry weapons. He'd have probably dropped dead if he'd seen my collection today as Rollick and Wally had.

  That thought process took me back a couple hours. "So what talent did the human female at the scene have?"

  "Sally?"

  "I guess. Never saw her around before."

  "She's only been on the watch for two months. Her talent is being named Sally Hortimus."

  "No wonder she was puking her guts out. I suppose the chief sent her along because he wanted her front and center when they found their missing prodigy? Someone to smile for the cameras?" Even before I finished speaking, my voice trailed down, my words a knee-jerk reaction to the name. She’d demonstrated herself on top of the investigative side coming up with the facial recognition on Effron that fast.

  "She does all right, Frankie. Don't you go giving her a hard time. Didn't even puke until after Mike did. She is a bit decorative, but she's also proven herself."

  Of course that wasn‘t going to stop me from giving Wally a hard time. "Decorative huh? You thinking about sleeping your way to the top, Wally?"

  "Damn it, Francesca, don't say things like that. You'll get me booted right back down to trooper.” Rollick nudged Wally again. Wally’s cheeks shaded crimson and he continued, “You know you're the only woman in the world for me." I'd have found it funnier if he sounded like he was joking. “Besides, even if I was interested, with all the young bucks at HQ she certainly has her pick of them tripping over themselves to please her. Us old folks just kick back and watch them make f
ools of themselves.”

  I opted to ignore the earlier statements. "Christ Wally, make it sound like you're a fossil, why don't ya. You're only four years older than me."

  "And that's only four years shy of forty. I feel like a fossil. Pretty sure the chief didn't assign Sally to my detail because of possible photo ops, but because he trusts me to watch out for the youngsters."

  Trooper Rollick glanced back at me and gave a curt shake of his head. One quick motion.

  Wally noticed it anyway. "Rollick! Frankie doesn't bother me the way you jerks do. At least she seems to be saying not every pretty woman looks at me and sees a fatherly old man."

  "You callin' me pretty?" I batted my eyelashes at him.

  "Damn it, Francesca, you know what I meant."

  "So I'm not pretty?"

  "I refuse to answer on the grounds that no matter what I say someone will take it wrong."

  "You know you're beautiful, Frankie," Rollick said. "Why do you think you get away with half the shit you do around the station."

  "Thank you, Rollick." I pouted at Wally. "See, the old married man's not afraid to tell a woman what he thinks."

  Rollick laughed. "Thanks a lot. I compliment you, then get called old. Maybe Sarge has the better plan."

  "Yeah, well considering I'm two years older than you," Wally said, "I think she just slammed both of us anyway."

  "I only meant that as, you been married since I met you, Rollick, not that you're old, but then you knew what I meant. How's your wife?"

  "She's good. Starting to show a bit."

  "Show? She's pregnant?"

  He nodded, grinning like the winner of the Trooper of the Year award. "Three months."

  "Well damn…congratulations! How do I not know this?"

  "Maybe you shouldn't put so much effort into avoiding us."

  "Don't take it personal. You know it's the likes of Chief Hortimus and my good buddy Lieutenant Dorchester that keep me as far away as possible." Not to mention, with the current ruling regime there were more than a few Seveners at HQ no matter what time of day or night you got dragged in there.