by Martha Carr
She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she turned to look at the large troll…dog?!
“No!” she said, as firmly as she could, wagging a finger at the troll.
“You got a dog!” Mitzi yelled through the door. “A very big dog! Why didn’t you tell me? Is it a rescue?” Lemon continued to bark but it was now mixed with whimpering.
“Just dog sitting for a friend!” Leira shouted through the door.
“Nice green hair! Totally Austin,” Mitzi yelled, Lemon’s yapping growing louder for a moment. The troll leaned against Leira, smiling up and panting.
“Good, um, dog?” Leira whispered as she looked through the peephole. Mitzi was still there. “I can’t be totally crazy if Mitzi can see you too.”
“Yeah, yeah, dog sitting. Just staying the night,” she said, turning in time to see the troll shrinking back to his tiny body. “Oh geez,” she mumbled. “What was that? I’m in over my head and I don’t have time for this.”
The troll cackled and scaled her leg easily, holding onto her pants as it found its way back into her pocket, settling back in and shutting its eyes. A tuft of green hair poking out.
Leira looked down at her pocket and back up at her door. “Uh, sorry, Mitzi, another time.”
“No problem. Let me know if you keep him longer. Have to get you some toys.”
She waited until Lemon’s barking got far enough away before turning the lock on her door. That move would make most of the regulars suspicious if they noticed.
She looked down at the green hair. “I don’t suppose you come with an instruction manual?”
She gingerly walked over and sat on her couch. “Do you even understand what I’m saying? How do I get you to stay in one place? Bert!” she yelled. “Come back!” She immediately regretted the yelling, and cringed, waiting to see if anyone else would knock at her door… or worse, have the troll change into something else.
The troll shivered in her pocket. Leira blew out a breath as she cautiously settled back on her sofa, trying not to disturb the troll. She slid her hand carefully into her pocket, easing the sleeping troll out and stared at it. “I have too much to do and very little time to let you get in the way.”
The troll let out a trill.
Leira rolled her eyes. “Well, hell.” She stood up and carried the troll in the palm of her hand, cradling its little warm body as she walked to her closet and found a shoebox, dumping out a pair of heels she’d never wear anyway. She took a washcloth from the bathroom and put it in the box, tucking the small troll in, and put the box in the center of her bed.
As quietly as she could, glancing over her shoulder, Leira unlocked the lockbox and got her gun, grabbing her keys. She noticed the spilled beer was gone.
Score one for magical friends.
Taking one last look to make sure the troll was still sleeping she bit her bottom lip and thought about what to do next. She wanted to catch Bill Somers.
Catching people who would harm someone else was one of the reasons she got into the profession in the first place.
Asshole killers that crossed into other worlds and came back with magic to screw up her town? Yeah, I’m going to find him and bring him in.
Besides, even though the queen was a real bitch so far, she could cut her some slack. Even Leira wasn’t that cut off from her feelings to know about the pain of a grieving mother.
At least, she didn’t think she was.
Leira glanced at the box on her bed and sighed. She didn’t want to know what kind of trouble ignoring a troll might unleash, so troll owner was going to have to fit into the manhunt somehow. That was going to be a new twist.
She looked down at her hand, at her mom’s ring. “The moment I get you Bill Somers, I get mom out of the psych ward, and bring her home.”
Leira fingered the sapphire and diamond ring. “There’s still a few hours left in the evening.”
She thought about what she needed to do. I’ll start with Lavender Rock. Who knows? I might get lucky and find the beginning of a trail. I’m coming for you, Bill Somers.
She left the cottage determined, heading toward the Mustang.
A few moments later the front door opened and she was back, muttering, “Leira, you’re a goddammed idiot.” She made her way into her bedroom and grabbed the box with the troll and the lid.
Setting the lid firmly on the box, she strode back out of the small house and closed the door behind her.
Leaving a troll behind to tear up the place would not be a good start to finding the killer.
Chapter Seven
Troll
It was a long weekend. The dim morning light shone through the blinds of the living room window as Leira sat up on her couch and stretched her back. Going to Lavender Rock had turned up nothing except a lot of suspicious stares. She was left with a mild headache and a vibration in the middle of her chest that lasted the rest of the weekend. She finally fell asleep on the couch, a humming in her ears and her dreams full of floating castles and walking through portals.
She shook her head, trying to clear her mind.
“Something wasn’t…right about that giant rock. Too many people just hanging out. Just a hunch.” That lightheaded feeling the whole time I was there… like I was high…
Suddenly, a small green streak of hair zipped past her and her eyes opened wide, as the little green troll ran past her. “No… fuck! I’ve got to get to work!”
She lunged for the small miscreant, chasing it around the room. Small, like five-inches small and almost nothing to grab onto, especially when it was moving in such a hurry.
The tiny creature was always in a hurry. “Come here, you pain in the ass! The weekend was hard enough already!” Leira picked up the cardboard shoe box she was using as his bed as the box fell into pieces. She threw down the small back piece of the box that remained in her hands. The washcloth she gave the troll for bedding was in strips, shredded among the remains of the box.
“Good to know. Little demon can cause some damage.”
Leira lunged again for the troll but came up empty, her fingertips just brushing the wild tuft of green hair.
The troll did a neat bounce, and a tuck and roll off the couch, landing on its feet. He zipped into the kitchen, leaving her impressed and frozen for a split second.
“Well, damn…” Her eyes narrowed as she heard a crash from the kitchen. “Fuck!” she yelled, as the frustration returned.
“Fuck!” chirped the five-inch creature, followed by a trail of laughter as Leira scrambled to move her ass into the kitchen.
“Great, your first Earth word,” she muttered, as more drawers opened and slammed shut. She got to the kitchen just in time to see a green streak slide neatly into her silverware drawer and close it tight.
She went and stood in front of the drawer. “I have to get to work, you little green pain in the ass!” She used her best detective voice, her heart pounding.
Damn, Lavender Rock did something to me. Still a buzz going right through me. That’s it! Everyone there looked like they were absorbing something…
“Double fuck Monday mornings.” She jerked the silverware drawer open. The troll stopped biting one of her spoons long enough to look up at her. There were tiny dents in the spoon from his sharp little teeth.
He jumped to the counter and banged headfirst into her honey pot-shaped cookie jar. The troll shook its head, dazed, teetering on one foot, its eyes not focusing very well at all.
Leira glanced at the time flashing on the microwave. “This is why I don’t have a roommate or a pet.” She ran to her bedroom for another shoe box.
Temporary fix will have to do.
“Hagan’s coming back to the squad room today. Fuck, I’m talking to the troll.” The troll stood still for a moment and looked up at her.
“Are you actually listening?” She arched an eyebrow, her hands on her hips and looked directly at the troll. “I need to be on time. Wasn’t your behavior last night bad enough?”
/> She had spent the day checking on Hagan. He was back home after only one night in the hospital. Leira told him to take a few days off until she realized she was only raising his blood pressure.
“It’s just a goddamn flesh wound,” he yelled.
“Passed right through some auxiliary flesh,” said his wife, Rose, patting his arm.
He grumbled but smiled. “She means fat. I’ll be at my desk tomorrow, ready to go. Cleared by a doctor, no less. A pile of paperwork awaits.”
Leira was worn out by the time she got home. Her mind was buzzing with everything that had happened in the past few days. Still floating from the after-effects from the rock.
She only made it as far as the couch, drifting off to sleep with the troll snoring happily from the inside of his box on the floor next to the couch. That night, she dreamed about magical Elves with balls of light and plants that moved to the sound of her voice.
But Leira was a light sleeper and the sound of loud rustling in her closet, or her trash can tipping over ripped her out of a dream and she leaped up from the couch to go find the troll.
Once again.
It wasn’t until five a.m. and she found him in the recesses of her underwear drawer, turning in circles before settling down in a pile of cotton underwear.
He finally drifted off to sleep curled up in a furry ball.
She was tempted to reach out and pet the little guy as it shut its eyes and smacked its lips, satisfied to have finally found a nest.
Almost tempted.
She remembered the sharp, pointed teeth and how fast the troll grew into an oversized version of a dog when Mitzi casually knocked on her door.
Nope, please keep all fingers and other soft and crunchy bits away from the mouth of sir lots-of-teeth. She went back to the couch, her gun nearby.
Leira grabbed a couple of hours of sleep before her alarm went off, startling both herself and the troll who angrily banged against the walls of her dresser before taking off to explore the kitchen.
Apparently, this magical creature doesn’t like to get up early. Leira rubbed her eyes and followed the troll into the kitchen.
She could still feel the remnants of a buzz. Maybe that giant rock is giving off some kind of odorless gas. “Hey!”
The troll leaped behind her coffee maker, pushing it toward the edge of the counter.
“Not the coffee!” she yelled. She lunged for the glass carafe, catching it just in time and flashing the troll an ugly look. “That’s messing with my lifeblood.” She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and ran a hand through her short, dark hair.
Wish I had time to throw some water on my face. Trying to catch a five-inch troll is a sonofabitch.
The troll crawled into a bag of stale popcorn, happily munching its way to the bottom, scattering kernels everywhere.
“You’re cleaning that up.” Leira put the carafe back on the counter. “Look… we’ll get along a lot better if you never fuck with my coffee, my gun or my running shoes.” She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “Ever.”
As she let out the breath, the troll popped up at the top of the popcorn bag. He relaxed, dropping his shoulders, and smacked his lips, rubbing his belly, lazily looking up at her.
“Oh no…” A thought came over her. “Your emotions are connected to me?” She bit her bottom lip trying to come up with a way to prove her theory.
“Now!” Leira let out a roar, stomping her foot on the linoleum floor and glaring at the troll. He stirred in the popcorn bag, looking up at her, puzzled. “Okay, pretending is a no go.”
She let herself think of Prince Rolim as the knife went deeper into his body and his eyes widened in shock and pain.
The anguish on Queen Saria’s face flashed in Leira’s mind as she balled her hands into fists at her side and her anger grew at the thought of such a senseless death. Worse, the killer had gotten away and was somewhere here on Earth.
“Dammit,” she hissed.
A surge of anger flowed through the troll and he stood up straighter, leaping nimbly from the drawer to the floor, getting larger at an alarming rate. Leira watching in wonder until the green tuft on his head was brushing the ceiling.
He let out a growl, baring his teeth, and stomped the floor in a nice imitation of Leira.
“Fuck me, it’s true!” She looked up at him. “You feel what I feel.” The troll’s head brushed against the oversized brass lamp that hung in the center of the room, sending it swinging and raining dust down on everything.
“Gross, this is not good.” Leira covered her face with her hands and shook her head, trying to keep the dust from settling on her.
“Who knew there was so much crap up there?” She reached for a dish towel to wipe her mouth, trying to ignore the gritty taste.
The troll growled again, a low rumble that rattled the dishes in the sink.
“That was intense.” Leira stood still, keeping eye contact with the troll and assessing the danger.
“You don’t know this about me but I don’t run.” The troll growled, looking around the room for any approaching trouble. “Hang on, you’re not growling at me… You’re looking for danger… Damn, you’re trying to guard dog me…”
What had that Light Elf told her? Trolls bond with beings that help them. Bonding has to be a good thing, she thought. “I did save your life. That’s good, right?” She looked up at the troll, towering over her.
“Clearly I’m starved for conversation. I’m chatting with a giant troll in my kitchen covered in old bug dust.”
She sighed and tried to think of a happy place.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” she muttered. “What’s happy?” She glanced at the huge troll. “Hanging out at the bar? No, not really. Going for a run. Maybe. Damn, why has this never come up before?”
The troll felt her growing anxiety and screwed up its face to roar again. He turned in a circle, stomping his feet, and bumped into Leira. “Son of a bitch!” She stumbled into the lavender quartz countertop, banging her hip.
“Dammit! Okay, okay, I admit it.” She brushed her hair out of her eyes. “My happy place is running someone down. A nice tackle and the sound the handcuffs make. There, you happy?”
The troll stopped stomping and trilled at her, cocking its head to the side. “I have my own personal Yeti. Look kids, Bigfoot…” A rumble passed through the troll’s chest. Leira could feel it under her feet. “Okay, okay. Happy places.”
Leira looked up into the troll’s eyes, staring down at her. “Looking over a murder scene with Hagan. Knowing someone is lying in an interrogation and getting in his face. These are a few of my favorite things.”
The troll shrunk down, shaking all over like a dog. Leira reached down to the floor and put out her hand. The troll leaped on, fitting neatly in the palm of her hand and promptly curled up into a ball.
“That wore you out,” she whispered, as she watched him get comfortable. “Interesting. Thank goodness you can’t say much besides fuck yet.” She pursed her lips and shrugged. “And can’t tell the world I’m happiest in the middle of mayhem.”
She sighed as the troll opened one eye and looked up at her. She gave him a crooked smile and he trilled softly, closing his eye.
She looked around the mostly clean kitchen. “This is going to be a long week at work. I’ll clean this up later.”
She walked to the couch and slid the sleeping troll into the roomy pocket of her favorite black leather jacket. The troll’s head popped out of the pocket and he looked around the room, stretching his arms.
“Stay put!” She went to grab a pair of her underwear, stuffing them carefully into the pocket, tucking the edges around the troll. “Those can be yours now. No need to give them back. Not sure Tide is equipped to get out troll.”
The troll closed his eyes and settled back down.
“At least we know your happy place now. Curled up in my underwear in a small, dark place. Turns out, the first word you learned was appropriate after all.” she sai
d quietly.
She went to her closet. “Because I am truly fucked. If you play nice on good feelings… hell, any kind of feelings are not my strong point.” She searched through the clean pile, folded neatly next to her dresser. “Unless anger counts.”
She changed into another pair of black pants and a shirt suitable enough for work, slipping on her favorite blue and orange running shoes.
She brushed her teeth twice trying to get rid of the gritty taste from the dust shower in the kitchen, and gargled for good measure. The entire time she was making herself take slow, deep breaths, occasionally checking on the troll.
She slid carefully into her jacket, and felt the troll squirm around for a moment, adjusting in his sleep. Nah, that won’t attract attention, she thought, as she watched her pocket move.
She scooped up her keys out of the pinch bowl she made in the second grade, headed out the door of the guesthouse, and across the quiet patio of the bar. Estelle’s wouldn’t be hopping again until the lunch crowd.
Leira went through the gate marked private. All the regulars knew that gate was reserved for her. They were the closest thing to family that Leira had left.
The mornings were the hardest time of day. Wide awake with a full day ahead and nothing to distract her. It was too easy to think about everyone missing from her life.
“Crazy mother, safely locked away, check. Missing grandmother, doublecheck.” The troll grew restless in her pocket.
She looked down at her jacket pocket. “It’s my routine, okay? Some people drink coffee to get their blood going. I do this,” she muttered to the little round green and brown ball of fur.
The gate let out a loud creak and Leira made a mental note for the hundredth time to get something to fix that.
“Only problem is, mother may not be so crazy.” She shut the wooden gate behind her till the latch caught, walking to her car parked right in front of Estelle’s.
She slid into the driver’s seat of the Mustang and started it up, grateful for her leather jacket in the chilly morning air of what passed for winter in Austin, Texas.