Seeing Red

by Lyra Evans

  Thoughtful, Cobalt turned to him. “Who was the woman?”

  Niko read through the article, eyebrows arching. “Najm Karira,” he said. “His wife was Berhane. He was the heir to the Karira Agricultural fortune. His family disowned him after the whole ordeal with Berhane. They waited until public interest moved on from him, then cut him out of the business.”

  “Typical,” Coral muttered.

  “Did Najm Karira give permission for his wife’s image to be used?” Cobalt asked.

  “He didn’t have to,” Niko said. “Because the subject of the painting is dead, there’s no one to ask for rights.”

  Uri hummed. “Maybe he stole the painting then,” he said. “Angry that his wife’s dying moments were being used without his permission? That she would be on display for the whole world and benefiting some dude who didn’t even know her?”

  It was possible. But it didn’t sit right with Niko. “Officers tried to search his place, but he refused. They didn’t have enough to get any kind of warrant. Witnesses place him at a bar twenty blocks away, surrounded by people, anyway. He was hosting a party to benefit medical research, it seems.” Shaking his head, Niko considered. “I don’t think he did it, anyway. Putting his wife on display like that was her idea. Her last wish. And every time her name and experience comes up again, it reminds people of her story. If Najm’s goal is to raise awareness about the condition that condemned her to death, he would want people to talk about her again.”

  “But his family, on the other hand, have plenty of reason to want the public to forget about her,” Cobalt said. “Searching the Karira name likely always brought up her story, or the articles about it, or the video itself, instead of bringing up their company or products. Perhaps they viewed it as harmful to their business. They did disown him over it, after all.”

  That did make more sense to Niko. It also apparently occurred to the officers on the case at some point. In the notes, there was a mention of possibly visiting the Karira estate, but nothing ever came of it.

  “That looks like the link, doesn’t it?” he said. “That the officers never went to the estate, that it kind of got buried after that, tells me they were never allowed to search. And the painting never surfaced. No one tried to sell it. No one has ever reported seeing it anywhere. If the Kariras did steal it to get their daughter-in-law out of the news for good, maybe they just destroyed it. Like the arrested guard said…” Perhaps the woman was involved somehow. Or perhaps she was just unstable.

  “But how did they do it?” Uri asked. “Did they go to Phoebe Linden to get it done? Doesn’t her family have ties to Karira Agricultural?”

  “Sure,” Starla said. “But who doesn’t? They’re the largest agricultural company in the Three Courts. And if they did go to Linden about doing this, why should she be so worried about this coming out? It reflects far more on the Karira family than her. This isn’t personal.”

  Niko agreed. “I don’t think it matters now,” he said. “How they did it. Probably some kind of elaborate set of trades, some creative magic, and maybe money to pay off the guard. But none of this tracks directly to Phoebe, and even if it did, it’s mostly useless. This doesn’t destroy her.”

  “Agreed,” Cobalt said. He moved to sit in the armchair Niko had vacated some time ago. Niko didn’t do well sitting when there was a problem on his mind. He needed to move to reason things out. He would have liked to go swimming; it helped him more than anything else. But there was no time for that now. Nor place. “The next case?”

  Beginning to pace, Niko picked up the Tilia file. He’d explained this one to Cobalt before, not to mention all the times he’d read it aloud to himself. Running through it with the others was almost automatic because something about this one in particular was off. Domestic disturbances were always treacherous grounds for cops. They were some of the most dangerous situations to enter, though they could certainly be misunderstandings. In cases of domestic abuse, adding the stress of a police presence to the situation often only worsened things. It was an escalation. For some abusers, it was the final straw that pushed them to the unthinkable. And if they were past their breaking point, lashing out with nothing to lose, they could very easily take not just the victim with them, but the officers too. That the responding officers on this case dismissed it so quickly was unsettling.

  “So the Tilias claimed their son was playing a video game too loud?” Uriah repeated. He was the newest to the situation. “In Shady Cove? No way. Bullshit.”

  “Obviously,” Coral said. “But what did the staff actually hear?”

  Cobalt sucked on his teeth. “I would hazard they heard something happening to Natela Tilia, the daughter who was supposedly on vacation in Nimueh’s Court at the time.”

  Niko nodded. He had come to the same conclusion. “But the officers did check with the hotel the family listed for her,” he said. “The Fountain Hotel apparently confirmed they had a guest by that name, and when the police described her, the hotel staff confirmed.”

  “Money pays for many things,” Starla said with a flat expression. “And the kind of money the Tilias have is more than enough to grease some palms up North.”

  With a shrug, Niko conceded it was possible. “She was out of sight for a few months following this. So what are we thinking? Her family abused her, and it took her months to recover?”

  Quietly, Starla said, “Or they didn’t allow her out.” Niko met her gaze, and the experience with Sade flared between them. Starla knew better than anyone the reality of being kept captive.

  “She was treated,” Uri said, pensive. “They took her to a doctor here in Maeve’s Court because of her strange symptoms. The doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her, right?”

  “Did the police corroborate that?” Cobalt asked.

  Coral picked up the file and flipped through it. Niko didn’t need to look at it again.

  “They did speak to the doctors but never reviewed her medical files,” Coral said. “That apparently required a warrant, which they didn’t get. They only got basic information from the doctors.”

  “They would have had no cause for a warrant,” Uri explained. “But that the doctors told them anything…”

  “They didn’t,” Starla said. “I don’t know who the officers talked to, but it wasn’t the doctor who actually tried to treat her.” Niko stopped, eyes narrowing.

  “What?”

  Starla was scrolling through something on her laptop, and when Uri caught a glimpse of it, he quickly averted his gaze and pretended not to notice what she was doing.

  “The doctor who treated her said the symptoms were strange. They noted that in other circumstances, they would have guessed some kind of poisoning. But there was no evidence of poisoning in her bloodwork.”

  A chill took hold of Niko, creeping into his heart. “What were the symptoms?” He asked this in a voice so quiet it startled them all. The police file had mentioned symptoms of a hangover, but he suspected now it was much more complicated than that.

  “Nausea, vomiting, dizziness, headaches, difficulty breathing, severe abdominal pain, and bleeding,” she read aloud. “Bleeding was mostly vaginal.” Starla’s mouth pulled in a horrified expression. “The note mentions they thought it was just a bad period at first? Hangover, period…then they went to hospital.”

  Niko shut his eyes. “And the bloodwork was normal?” he asked. “They checked for everything? Even pregnancy?”

  Cobalt’s eyes found him immediately, and though he kept his eyes shut, he felt Cobalt watching him. The scent of the ocean and lightness and hot sand met him, and he tried to let it calm him.

  “Yeah. Everything was clear,” Starla said. “Though the doctor was surprised because apparently one of her hormones was usually a little high. She’d been monitored for that for years, but in the new bloodwork it was slightly low. Why?”

  Niko wanted to throw up. Images of his childhood bathroom, covered in blood, his mother lying unresponsive on the tiles,
flashed in his mind.

  “She was pregnant,” he said, entirely certain. “The family was unhappy about it. They forced a miscarriage. It killed her.”

  Coral stared at him, but he did not meet her gaze. Nor did Niko allow himself to look at Cobalt, afraid of what those crystal eyes would drag out of him. He maintained an even tone, a controlled demeanour. He stopped himself from being gripped by violent rage and loathing. He stopped the onslaught of grief that came up every time he thought of his mother and how she died. Instead, he stared at Starla and Uri, both of whom seemed worried for him, but perhaps they both knew better than to ask just then.

  “Was the bloodwork faked then?” Uri asked, gifting Niko with a breath of space between himself and the issue. “And who was the father? Why were they so intent on an abortion?”

  Coral searched through her social media. “Seems as though she had a rotation of men in her life,” she said. “Most of them seem like spoiled rich kids, like she was.” Scrolling through photo after photo, Natela’s smiling face shone out at the centre of every one. Coral stopped on one photo of Natela out in a club, her eyes cast down in a falsely demure pose. Her hand was clasped with someone else’s, but whoever it was got cut off. “But this tattoo keeps popping up,” she said. The cut-off hand bore a black tattoo on its wrist. The image was slightly distorted, but it seemed to be that of a canine of some sort chasing its own tail around a circle, a reimagining of the ouroboros, a serpent eating its own tail.

  “I’ve seen that tattoo,” Starla said, peering over at the screen by leaning halfway into Uri’s lap. Uri frowned down at her, but she didn’t seem to notice. “That’s—wait.” She settled back to her own place, and her fingers moved across the keyboard in a flurry. “Yes! I was right. It’s Liam Butler. He’s a drummer for The Screaming Foxes, an all-Werewolf rock band.”

  Cobalt rolled his eyes, brushing his hair to the side. It followed the movement of his hand for a moment, but given its habit of floating ethereally about his head, it didn’t stay there. “I suppose the Tilias have particular feelings about Werewolves and the purity of Fae bloodlines.”

  Niko nodded. “They do.” He breathed out a heavy breath. “Which means unless Phoebe Linden personally administered the forced abortion drug, this isn’t the case that matters to her.”

  “Which leaves only one,” Cobalt said. “The missing woman.”

  Niko held the last of the three files, the weight of it somehow heavier than it should be in his hands. It was the last option. If this case wasn’t the one, they were back to square one, back to nothing at all. And they certainly wouldn’t be able to stop Linden from completing her intended plans. A lot was riding on this one case, this one missing woman barely anyone had noticed was gone, anyway.

  “Esther Cottonwood,” Starla said with a sigh. “This is the one that stuck with me most.” She looked up, eyes flat. “It just—she could be me, you know?” A pause, closing her eyes and a shift of her head. “Was me, I guess.”

  Coral set her laptop aside and moved around the sofa, seating herself atop the armrest next to Starla. Coral gathered her into her arms and rubbed her shoulder. Starla curled into the action. Niko was grateful; he wasn’t really capable of that kind of physical support for a friend. But Starla needed it. She deserved it.

  “It’s not you,” Coral said. “You’re here. With us. And we would notice if you disappeared.”

  Starla nodded, patting Coral’s hand. “Thanks, love,” she said. “But it was me. No one noticed when I went missing, years ago. No one went looking when Sade took me.” Niko felt his stomach clench. He had been a kid when Starla was abducted, unable to do anything at all to save her. He hadn’t known her, of course, but none of that mattered. He still felt the guilt of not having saved her sooner. “The only reason we’re even looking into this now is because of the Woods. And the only reason police looked into it at all was because her neighbour heard her dog howling.”

  Uri shifted to face Starla more directly. He seemed to want to comfort her but didn’t know how. He always had been a more emotional person than Niko, but Uri didn’t know Starla that well. Not like Niko did. Seemed everyone was better at that kind of emotional offering than Niko.

  “So what does the file say?” Uri asked. “What happened to her?”

  Niko tilted his head. “We’re not certain. Officers went to her apartment for a wellness check, couldn’t see or hear her. But the dog was yowling pretty feebly, and they were concerned it was injured or unwell.” Niko picked out a photo from the file. “They found the dog starving and weak. Looked like it hadn’t been fed in maybe a week.” The image showed the dog, curled up and meagre on a dirty shag carpet. “It had been surviving mainly drinking toilet water, but it also hadn’t been let out. There was shit in a corner of the apartment, and it smelled pungently of piss.”

  Expression alarmed, Uri turned away from the photo. “No sign of her packing a bag or anything?” he asked. “Maybe she just hated her dog?”

  Starla glared at Uri. “No. Nothing was missing from her apartment except her purse. They checked her bank account, but it hadn’t been touched in a week. Credit card the same. They talked to the neighbour who called it in, and the elderly woman told the police she was very diligent about her dog. Took the dog out morning and evening, before and after work, taught it not to bark or make noise. She said Esther was the best pet owner she’d ever lived next to. And the dog had a specialized collar and lots of toys and a plush bed.” Starla shook her head. “She loved that dog. It’s obvious from every picture of the apartment.”

  Cobalt pondered, leaning over his knees. “She went missing from work, in the end, correct?”

  Niko pulled out a camera still. “Cops found out she worked evenings as a cleaner for a building in the financial district. The building houses a number of different company offices, so she was employed by the property management company. They employ the security team, the maintenance staff, and the cleaning crew.” He stared at the list of names provided by the company. “She reported to a woman named Photine Carob, who was head of the cleaning staff. But when they spoke to Carob, she said the turnover rate for cleaning crew is pretty high. When Esther didn’t show up for work without calling in, she just assumed she’d quit. Apparently it happens quite often.”

  “And the expectations of cleaning crew in those kinds of places is so high they don’t have time to worry about tracking people down if they don’t show for a shift,” Starla volunteered. “They just move down the list and call someone else in.”

  Her assessment wasn’t far off. Though the pay for a cleaning job in the financial district was slightly better than that of a hotel cleaner or similar position, it was still an unglamorous job with little reward. And looking at the list of companies with offices in the building, Niko decided they probably weren’t the easiest clients to work with in terms of expectations.

  “Did this Carob woman have anything else to say about the victim?” Uri asked.

  “She said she was disappointed when she didn’t show,” Niko said, reading the notes. “That Esther was otherwise a pretty exemplary employee. Always on time for her shift, always efficient and effective. She also seemed to take care with her work, which is apparently hard to come by in this kind of job. I guess cleaning up after rich idiots doesn’t inspire a lot of motivation in most people.”

  “The security team were the ones who provided her last known whereabouts,” Starla went on. “The guard on duty that night was on patrol when she left, so he didn’t see her, but there is camera footage of her standing outside the building at around the time she would typically go home.”

  Coral’s fingers moved to Starla’s head and played idly with her hair. “So where did she go from there?”

  “That’s the question, isn’t it?” Niko said. “The camera shows her standing outside the door of the building. A dark-coloured SUV pulls up in front of her. She pauses, just staring at it, then she walks around the other side of the car.”

 
Uri looked as though he expected some kind of end to that comment. “And then? Did she get in? Where did the SUV go after that? Whose car was it?”

  Niko shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  “What? How can we not know any of that?”

  Starla reached over, hand out for the file Niko was holding. He gave it to her, and she took out the other stills of the security footage. “When she walks around the SUV, she disappears from the view of the camera. The field of view cuts off at the roof, so we can’t even tell if the door opened on the other side. And the SUV had no plates. No identifiable features. Tinted windows. No way to tell who was driving even.”

  Uri gaped. “How did they get away with driving around without plates?” he asked. “Someone must have noticed at some point and stopped them.”

  Niko shook his head. “No other reports of an SUV matching this description—or any other, for that matter—being stopped that night. And there were no cameras beyond the one in front of the building to check for a route. The car just drives off in the vague direction of the street.”

  “So they must have put out an APB for—” Uri began. Niko shook his head. “No APB? Not for the car? Or the missing woman?”

  “They put out a BOLO for Esther,” Niko said, “But because they couldn’t be sure she got into the car, and she didn’t look distressed in the video, they couldn’t guarantee she wasn’t acting on her own volition. She’s an adult. If she wants to disappear into the wind, she’s technically allowed.”

  “The dog and bank records didn’t tip them off this was likely not voluntary?” Cobalt asked.

  Niko sighed. “I think the officers were pretty sure she didn’t go off on her own, but they had no other evidence to work with. No leads. No indication of foul play at work or at home, and probably too much pressure to close cases.”

  Cobalt frowned, crossing his arms. “All right,” he said. “Those are the facts of the case in the file. What details are missing? How does this connect to the Woods or Phoebe Linden?”