Shadow Marked: an Urban Fantasy Novel (Shadows of Salem Book 2)

by Jasmine Walt

  “Chandler, have you heard?” Baxter demanded as soon as I walked into the bullpen. “Captain Randall’s gone missing!”

  “What?” I nearly dropped my coffee. “What the hell do you mean, missing?”

  Fear and elation ballooned inside me all at once. Had Maddock actually gotten rid of him? And how, exactly? I’d forgotten to bring it up last night, but perhaps it was better if I didn’t know.

  “The Chief called all the captains in early for a meeting now that she’s back, and Captain Randall didn’t show. Nobody’s been able to get hold of him, and he’s not at his house. Uniforms checked his apartment. It doesn’t look like he’s taken off or anything.” Baxter ran a hand through his short hair. “It’s fucking weird.”

  “I hope nothing bad happened to him,” Bobby said, coming over from his own desk. His face was tight with worry. “Captain Randall’s a big guy, and he’s a good cop. I can’t imagine what might have stopped him from coming into work today.”

  “I just finished checking the hospitals.” Jake hung up the phone and swiveled around in his desk chair to face us. “He hasn’t shown up anywhere there, either.”

  “Christ.” I passed a hand over my face. “Are there any leads at all?”

  Dread began to eclipse my relief. Was I going to have to lead the rest of the station on a wild goose chase as well? I hoped Maddock had handled things with Randall in such a way that they wouldn’t come back to bite me in the ass. How much more of this subterfuge could I take?

  “Detective Chandler?” a female voice called, one that I’d only heard once, over the phone. Turning, I saw Mary Spencer, Salem’s Chief of Police, standing just outside the bullpen. She was a striking woman, with long blonde hair pulled back from her angular face in a sleek knot, and she wore a three-piece navy blue skirt suit with black pumps. “I’d like to see you in my office, along with Detective Brasher.” She nodded toward Jake.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Straightening my shoulders, I followed the Chief down the hall, Jake on my heels. I didn’t dare to look back at the other detectives. My palm grew sweaty against my coffee cup as I tried to think of what she could want. Did the Chief suspect that I had something to do with Randall’s disappearance? What sort of proof could she have?

  The Chief pushed open the door to her office, and I stepped inside it for a first time. It was a large, rectangular room that pretty much oozed with America’s red, white, and blue. Deep red swagged panel drapes hung in the windows, the walls were white, and both the carpet and chairs were a smoky blue. In front of one of the larger windows sat a polished oak desk with a sleek computer system, but the elegance was tempered somewhat by the various knick knacks—paperweights, a family photo, a decorative quill pen that stood in the fancy holder specially made for it. It was a peacock feather, and stood out against the more ordinary colors in the room.

  “Please, Detective Chandler, have a seat,” the Chief said, gesturing to the two visitors’ chairs.

  Jake stood to the left and just behind her chair, clasping his arms in front of him, his face stern as he regarded me. His normally warm brown eyes were flat—a cop’s stare. He must be the lead on Randall’s case.

  I sat in one of the chairs while she settled in behind her desk, trying not to shift my weight too much on the hard leather cushion. I’d never felt so hyperaware of how I might be perceived by my peers, and I needed to shut that down quick and act normal. Acting all awkward right now was just going to make them suspicious. And besides, I hadn’t actually done anything.

  I relaxed in my seat and smiled at the Chief. “What can I do for you?”

  “First, I’d like to say that I’m glad to finally meet you in person,” she said with a subdued smile. She clasped her hands together and rested them on her desk. “Though it would have been nice to do so under better circumstances.”

  “I agree, ma’am.” I sat up straighter in my chair. “Is there anything I can do to help find Captain Randall?”

  “Do you have any idea what might have happened to him? Where he might have gone?” the Chief asked. The weariness in her expression told me she hated to even have to ask me that. But I didn’t blame her. It was her job. I would do the same in her shoes.

  “I’m afraid not,” I said, and that was true. I had no clue what Maddock had done with him, or even if Maddock had done anything with him. Would have been nice if the bastard had shared his plans with me. But Randall had told me he had a lot of enemies; that was the reason he’d given for wanting me to get him in the Daire coven, after all.

  “I see.” The Chief cleared her throat. “We have several witnesses at the station that say they’ve noticed tension between the two of you recently. Do you care to elaborate on that?”

  So. I was a suspect. But pretending Randall and I didn’t have issues when others had reported them would only make me look more suspicious. I needed to talk to the Chief the same way I would have if she’d asked me this while Captain Randall wasn’t missing.

  “Captain Randall thinks I should drop Tom’s case and go home, that there is nothing else to search for,” I said stiffly, curling my hands in my lap. It wasn’t hard to feign the anger—Randall had stonewalled me when I first got here, and I was still pissed at him about his part in Father James’s plot against me. “I’m not ready to give up yet, and so we argued about it.”

  “Yes, I can see how that would cause tension,” the Chief said slowly. “I’m not happy to hear that Captain Randall has been discouraging, when I ordered him to lay out the welcome mat for you.” She exchanged a look with Jake, then turned back to me. “I don’t want to think that you’re a suspect, but you know we have to ask these questions. Can you tell me where you were between the hours of six pm last night and eight am this morning?”

  “I went home after my shift and had dinner, then went downtown to ENVY, that new night club, to meet a friend,” I said, improvising as best I could. I could hardly tell them that I actually ended up going to Faerie, but I could hope that someone had seen me downtown. “I was there until around ten o’clock, and then I went home.”

  “Can you give us an alibi to verify that?” Jake asked, speaking up for the first time.

  “Well, the friend I went to meet wasn’t there, so I ended up dancing and drinking by myself,” I said lamely. “But I can give you the name of the bouncer who let me in.” Not that the bastard had actually let me inside, but he would cover for me. After all, Maddock didn’t actually want me going to jail.

  “Okay.” Jake took a notebook out from the inside pocket of his jacket, and I gave him Nyx’s name. “And this Nyx—he was wearing a name tag?”

  Great. He was really drilling me on this one, wasn’t he? If he went to the club, he would see no one there wears name tags.

  “Actually, no,” I said, steeling my voice. “We got in a disagreement. I asked for his name to report him to management.” The best lies were based in truth. “That’s the only reason I know his name.”

  “So you’re hoping that a man you reported to his boss will be your alibi?” Jake arched his eyebrow.

  “I’m trusting that if you’re the one doing the questioning, you’ll get the truth out of him.” There, that ought to play to his ego. And if someone who was believed to have reason to be upset with me confirmed my whereabouts, that ought to help my case.

  Jake’s face had lost some of the stiffness, and I wondered if maybe he was relieved that I had an alibi. I liked Jake, and I thought he liked me too, so I didn’t want things to go sour between us. Even if I wasn’t going to be staying here forever.

  “Detective Brasher, why don’t you go and see if you’ve gotten any hits on that BOLO,” the Chief suggested in a tone that was not a suggestion at all.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Jake inclined his head, then strode out and shut the door behind him. Some of the dread lifted from my shoulders—the bloodhound was off my scent, at least for the moment.

  “Despite your issues with Captain Randall, I’ve heard that you seem to work well
with my other detectives,” the Chief said with a smile. “And that even though you came out here to follow up on your fiancé’s case, you’ve helped out quite a bit, which is much appreciated.”

  “It was no trouble at all, ma’am,” I assured her. “Captain Randall and I might’ve had words, but otherwise the department has been very helpful. And as much as I hate to admit it, I think he is right. I’m probably going to have to close this case and leave it as it is, as I’m not really finding anything new.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you plan on returning to Chicago?”

  “I had thought so, but I’m not sure now.” The words tumbled from my mouth before I could stop them—I hadn’t planned on telling her about my doubts. “It’s a lot nicer out this way.”

  “What do you think about transferring here?” the Chief asked. She came around to the front of her desk, leaning back against it and crossing her ankles and her arms. “It’s normally unheard of, but one of my detectives has been on leave for six months due to medical issues. I have a feeling he’s not going to be coming back, and we could use a replacement.”

  “That’s a very kind offer,” I said, stunned. “Are you sure, though? Surely some of your officers are getting ready to take the detective’s exam.”

  “Yes, but I requested a copy of your file, and even though you’re only a third-grade detective, you’re rock solid. I was impressed with how quickly you rose to the position.”

  “Thank you,” I said, a real smile coming to my lips. “Chicago is a big place with a lot of cases. At the time, they’d needed all the people they could get.”

  “Don’t downplay your success, Chandler,” the Chief said, lowering her hands to her side. She wrapped her fingers around the ledge of the desk. “You weren’t moved up quickly for any reason other than your aptitude for your job. And that’s why I want you here. Salem’s been…changing over the years. We’re seeing more missing persons cases than ever, and we could really use someone like you.”

  I nodded, admittedly a little flattered by the Chief’s praise. I was used to the police world acting as though I got a hand out being promoted to detective so quickly, especially as a woman. But I needed a better reason than flattery to transfer.

  “It’s a big decision,” I said, hoping I was coming across as considerate and not ungrateful, “so I’d like some time to think about it. Though, it would certainly be an honor.”

  “Of course,” the Chief said with a nod. “If you have any questions or concerns while considering it, I hope you’ll come to me. In the meantime, I’ll let you get back to work.”

  I thanked her again, then headed back to the bullpen, half in a daze. Was I really going to come work here as an actual member of the Salem PD? If Maddock truly had gotten rid of Randall, then I supposed there was no good reason why I couldn’t. Surely Baxter would eventually give up on Father James, and I wouldn’t have to walk on tenterhooks around him anymore.

  There was still too much to do, too much to discover, for me to leave Massachusetts. Maybe taking this offer really was the best thing, especially since the badge often came in handy. And if I had a Salem PD badge, that meant I had jurisdiction and could go investigating things without Baxter in tow.

  My feet grew lighter at the very thought, and I practically skipped into the bullpen, ready to tell Baxter the good news. But I faltered at the look on his face—he was standing next to my desk, glowering at me, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Hey.” I stopped a few feet away from him. “What’s up?”

  “What is this doing in your desk?” Baxter uncrossed his arms and dangled a rosary in front of me.

  My heart stopped. Was that the same rosary I’d recovered from Miss Bennett’s house? But that didn’t make sense. I’d brought that thing home and hidden it away. I wasn’t stupid.

  No, this was a different one. Anger ignited in my veins, and I had to fight to remain calm as I realized Randall must have planted it there. That backstabbing bastard! So he was planning on betraying me after all.

  “Father James gave it to me when I went to visit him at the church,” I said coolly. “He said that he knew Tom, so I asked him some questions to see if I could try to get any new leads. When I told him that I was having trouble sleeping, he gave that to me and told me to pray with it before I went to bed.”

  “I see.” But judging by the look in Baxter’s gaze, it was clear that he didn’t. “And yet you brought it here to the police department, instead of taking it home.”

  “I’m not a practicing Catholic,” I said defensively. “I wasn’t going to actually pray with it over my bed. But it was a nice gesture, and since I actually work on the case here, I thought I would keep the rosary with me.”

  “Baxter,” Bobby said, sounding worried. He rose from his chair. “Chandler’s a good egg. Don’t take this out on her.”

  Baxter held up his hand toward Bobby, silencing him, while his gaze remained pinned on me. “I’d buy that story, Chandler, except that I’ve never seen you take it out while you work.” His lip curled. “I’ve always felt like you’ve been hiding something from me, you know.”

  “Fuck you,” I snarled, snatching the rosary from his fist. “Maybe instead of bumbling around, you should start looking deeper into what your brother was up to that might have gotten him into trouble in the first place. People don’t end up dead for no reason. Most of the time, they get themselves tangled up into things that they shouldn’t.”

  “How dare you speak about my brother that way!” Baxter yelled, taking a step toward me. Jake and Bobby were instantly in front of him, pushing him back. “I won’t have you talking about him like he’s a criminal!”

  “Fine, then maybe we shouldn’t talk at all anymore!”

  Cheeks burning, I turned on my heel and stormed from the bullpen. Bobby called for me to come back, but I ignored him. I’d had enough of this bullshit. I needed a fucking break, and more importantly, I needed Maddock to tell me what the hell he’d done.

  Chapter 19

  By the time I got off shift, I was a wreck. My head was killing me, I felt like I was going to throw up, and panic was trying to claw its way out of my chest. I’d called Maddock immediately after walking out on Baxter, and a few more times after I couldn’t reach him. Nothing new there; he never answered or returned my calls. But after the falling out I’d just had with Baxter, I needed to talk to Maddock.

  You shouldn’t have lost your cool. You said some hurtful things, I told myself as guilt set in. In my own panic, I’d lost sight that Baxter was hurting, grieving the loss of someone he believed to be his brother. I’d grieved someone who didn’t deserve it, too, and finding out the truth hadn’t exactly made me feel better. I couldn’t hold this against Baxter.

  Miserable, I rested my head against the window in my Jeep, allowing the cool glass to ease some of the tension in my skull. Looking back on the pattern of my headaches, I realized that they only flared up whenever I thought of Father James, or someone mentioned him. Hopefully this would be the last one, now that I’d gotten rid of most of the darkness he’d left inside me, but I knew these crappy feelings weren’t all because of him. No, they were because I was genuinely afraid Baxter was going to discover me as a murderer.

  There was no way I could prove to him, or to a court of law, that I’d acted in self-defense. Not unless I hired a lawyer and did some very fancy fabrications. And since I couldn’t afford that, I didn’t see how that was possible.

  Maddock could probably afford it, a voice in my head suggested. He probably knows a supernatural lawyer or two who would actually believe your story.

  That really wouldn’t help though, would it? I wouldn’t need a supernatural lawyer. I’d need a supernatural jury. And a good excuse as to why I’d hid the body instead of reporting it. That alone made me look like I was hiding something.

  And I was…but not for the reasons they would think.

  I gritted my teeth, pulling my cell phone out of my jacket pocket again. W
hat was the use in having Maddock as an ally if I couldn’t get hold of him? Was he in Faerie again, beyond the reach of modern cell phones? How was it that he could talk to his lackeys, but not to me? Was it some kind of one-way thing?

  I tried calling again, and his phone immediately rolled over to voicemail. You’ve reached Maddock Tremaine of Tremaine Enterprises. Leave a message.

  “Hey, asshole,” I growled into the speaker. “I’m in a fuck ton of trouble, and I need your help. Call me back.”

  With nothing else to do, I drove back to my apartment. Maybe my best bet was to take the artifacts I had and make a run for it. After all, Maddock wouldn’t be able to find me since I could shade both myself and the artifacts. And these things were supposed to be really powerful, able to protect me from all kinds of things. If I could figure out how to use them, then I wouldn’t have anything to fear, would I?

  Yeah, and who’s gonna teach you how to use them? And what about all the other people they were meant to protect?

  I blew a breath through my nose, trying to dispel the stress. On the passenger seat, my phone started buzzing. I glanced over to see Shelley’s name on the I.D. and tapped the button to turn my phone on speaker.

  “Hey, Shelley, everything okay?”

  “Everything’s great! I had a missed call from you and just had the chance to call back. Everything okay with you?”

  I stopped at a red light. “Everything’s great with me, too,” I lied. I’d nearly forgotten I’d tried calling her the other day on my lunch break in an effort for our friendship to not be so one-sided. “How’s the diner treating you?”

  “Oh, I never got a chance to tell you! I actually got another job offer, shortly after I started working there. One of the patrons owns Luxe Cosmetics and hired me as his secretary! The pay is great, benefits, all of that. But I don’t have as much time as I used to. That’s why I missed your call, and why it took me so long to call you back.”