Be My Banshee (Purple Door Detective Agency Book 1)

by Joyce Lavene

  “Not right now,” she said. “Aine? Any ideas?”

  “No.”

  “Jane?” Sunshine asked.

  “I get it. You don’t know.” O’Neill stopped her. “I’ll keep my partner off your backs, but if you hear anything, let me know. I’ll see you later, Aine.”

  When he was gone, Sunshine’s hair poofed up like a lion’s mane around her face. “Did you hear that? Michel and Ike are both dead now too. We have to figure this out before anyone else is killed.”

  “You did not tell him about the names we have or that we know blood from each of those men who got tattoos was taken by a chick,” Aine mentioned.

  Jane giggled. “Really? They were attacked by chicks?”

  Sunshine sighed heavily. “All right—one of you learn the lingo. Otherwise I can’t promise you’ll be safe. A chick is slang for a woman. So we’re looking for a woman who may be the killer or may be someone working with the killer. Are we clear on that?”

  Aine and Jane nodded.

  “Do you have those names?” Jane asked.

  “Yes.” Sunshine got them from her handbag. “I knew all of them. They used to hang around with John sometimes. They’re all shifters. Why would someone want to kill a group of shifters?”

  “What about Harley Matthews and the other two at Tattoo Hell?” Jane asked.

  “I think we should start a magic board on all this,” Sunshine said. “To the Bat Cave, ladies.”

  Neither woman had any idea what she was talking about. Sunshine told them to come into her office and gave up trying to explain.

  Once in her office, Sunshine’s magic pulled up a clear, flat space. She used her finger to write on it.

  “We have Harley Matthews and his friends at Tattoo Hell, who were approached to give our suspect blood samples from a group of shifters and werewolves which included John.”

  Sunshine wrote their names on the board, and their faces appeared beside them. She only faltered a moment when she stared at John’s image.

  “Now. We have no name and no image for the chick.” Sunshine created the image of a cute baby chicken with a question mark over it. “We know that Harley was killed because he asked for more money from the chick. We don’t know why the other two were killed.”

  “The chick might be aware that they spoke with us last night,” Aine said. “We have to assume that she has magic and may have spelled them to know if they spoke out of turn.”

  Jane wiped a tear from her eye. “You may have killed the other two without knowing it.”

  “We had no choice.” Sunshine touched the spot where Michel had put the pentagram on her arm. Despite her healing spell, there was still some redness around the image. “If we’re going to get to the bottom of this, we must all assume some risk.”

  The front door opened again. Jane dried her tears and went to see who was there.

  “Good job with O’Neill,” Sunshine commended Aine. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about him and Malto again.”

  “Though I assume you understand that I did not give him the information for that purpose.”

  “Of course not.” Sunshine stared at the magic board. “What does the chick want with the shifters? Why kill them?”

  “Assuming that she is the killer,” Aine said. “I believe she has made it clear that she wants their deaths.”

  “Yes. But why? None of these men are the types to lead packs or wield influence. Why kill them?”

  “Was there anything different or unusual about your lover before he died?”

  Sunshine swallowed hard. “I don’t think so. John and I had a strong bond, but I didn’t see him every day. He didn’t live here. It was a loose relationship. He needed his space, and I needed mine.”

  “So you did not observe him on the day of his death?” Aine asked.

  “No. I hadn’t seen him for a few days. He texted me the night before he was killed, but he didn’t say anything about being in danger. I don’t know what he was mixed up in.”

  “It is imperative that we speak with the other shifters on the list before they too are killed and we are left with no answers as to who wanted them dead.”

  “You’re right.” Sunshine said. “I don’t have any of their phone numbers, so we’ll have to track them down. I should have thought of it last night. I hope they aren’t all dead already.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Jane came back into Sunshine’s office. “There’s a potential client in the waiting room. Are we taking on new clients right now?”

  “Of course,” Sunshine said. “We have to pay the bills. I want to know what happened to John, but no one is paying us to check into it. Aine, take a seat and keep that middle-aged look going. Jane, show in our new client.”

  The potential new client was looking for a friend of his that had gone missing a few days before. Lloyd Samson said his friend was more responsible than to just disappear. “We play in a band together, and he missed last night’s gig. We share a place and rent is due. I’ve known Amos all my life. He’s just not this kind of dude.”

  Sunshine didn’t have to look at her list to know this was one of the shifters. “We’ll be happy to look for your friend, Lloyd. Jane, get him a missing person’s document to fill out.”

  Lloyd thanked her. He was a good-looking young man, as most shifters tended to be. It seemed to be a trait of nature, possibly meant to keep shifters safe in society.

  Jane got him a form to fill out and led him back out into the main office.

  “Ye have to tell him what we suspect,” Aine said. “He could be in danger like the others.”

  “I didn’t see a tattoo, did you? And if we tell him, he might not be willing to help us.”

  “You plan to take his money to find someone we were looking for anyway?”

  “I know you don’t get the whole burden of finances, but I don’t conjure up money,” Sunshine explained. “The agency has to take on paying clients. That’s how we pay our taxes, power, and other expenses.”

  Lloyd finished filling out his form and returned to her office. Jane stared hard at Sunshine, her hands nervously wringing the paper before she gave it to her.

  Sunshine sighed. “All right. I get it. Lloyd, we have to tell you something. We knew Amos was missing already. He might be in danger. You might be in danger too. Do you have any tattoos from Tattoo Hell?”

  He shook his tawny mane. “I wouldn’t put anything like that on this body.” He pulled off his t-shirt to reveal nothing but a broad expanse of tanned, muscled skin. “Tell me what you think happened to Amos. Maybe I can help.”

  “All right then.” Sunshine had feasted her eyes on his body for long enough—besides, he was already putting on his shirt. “We found out last night that a group of shifters may be targeted.” She explained the situation and told him about John’s death.

  “Wow. That’s some really bad stuff.” He frowned. “I know the other three shifters. I just saw Irene last night. Maybe I can help you out with them if you’ll help me with Amos.”

  Sunshine glared at both her associates, who’d questioned her judgment. “I think that would be appropriate, Lloyd. Thank you.”

  “I want to pay you anyway. John was a friend of mine. He was always going on about what a great place this was for people like us to get help. You need money to keep going, right?” He grinned and put a large handful of wadded-up bills on her desk.

  “I appreciate your understanding.” She gestured to Jane to take the money.

  Aine and Sunshine asked Lloyd a few more questions about the last time he’d seen Amos and if the cat shifter had been in any trouble.

  “Not as far as I know. He was looking forward to the gig he missed as much as I was. It’s tough to get a new band started.”

  They exchanged phone numbers and agreed to meet that night at a club frequented by the shifter community. Lloyd said he’d ask around about other shifters with tattoos and call if he had any news.

  “I’m so glad you came in today.
” Sunshine put her hand in his much larger one.

  “Oh hell, we’re like family already.” Lloyd hugged her. “You be careful out there. If you need any manpower, let me know.”

  “I will.” Her hair flared out in a brighter shade of red blond reacting to her attraction to him. “Thank you.”

  After Lloyd was gone, Jane reported the cash she’d taken in. “He had three hundred dollars in small bills.”

  “He probably picked that up as tips last night,” she said. “And you were both worried for nothing. Lloyd understood that we have to make money too.”

  “It wasn’t just that,” Jane said softly. “He had to be warned, didn’t he? This way he has a better chance of staying safe.”

  “Maybe so,” Sunshine said. “But next time voice your opinion instead of looking at me like you’re going to eat the paper.”

  “I only chewed on the first two,” Jane told her. “I didn’t chew on the one I gave him.”

  “I think our path is laid out before us,” Aine said. “We should go to the tattoo establishment and search for clues that match the dumpster and the roof. Is that correct?”

  “Absolutely. You’re a fast learner for a fairy, even one that’s been dead for a long time.”

  The beane sidhe rose to her feet, towering over her partner. “And you are not a bad person for a witch.”

  “Yeah. Thanks for that. I don’t know what kind of witches you knew back in Ireland, but all my friends are like me.”

  “I doubt that.” Aine accompanied her out of the small office.

  Sunshine kept talking about the kind of witch she was as she told Jane they were leaving and to call if anything came up. They went out to the convertible, and she started the engine

  “What do you know of Mr. Bad, as you call him?” Aine asked. “From whence did he hail, and for what length of time has he lived in this place?”

  “He was here one morning. He said he was looking for the right place and wanted to stay.” Sunshine glanced into her rearview mirror. “He’s never been any trouble. We never even know he’s there.”

  “But never leaves that room?”

  “No. Never.” Sunshine backed out of the parking lot. “Why do you ask?”

  Aine’s green gaze remained on the black road before them. “Have you no fear of him?”

  “None at all.” Sunshine glanced at her once they were in traffic. “Should I?”

  “I’m certain if you needed to fear him, you would know.”

  “That’s cryptic. Is there something you should tell me?” Sunshine had always taken Mr. Bad’s presence for granted. Why was Aine asking about him?

  “No,” Aine said. “I’m sure everything ‘twill be fine.”

  It worried Sunshine as they drove down Granby Street from the historic district back to the tattoo shop. She had enough going on without wondering about Mr. Bad’s motives. He was there. He was always there. She counted on that certainty. John had told her that she could trust him. That was good enough for her.

  The police had completely cordoned off the area around Tattoo Hell. A large crowd had assembled outside to see what was going on. Cell phones were raised as cameras clicked. Local news crews had joined them. It was like a circus.

  Aine started to get out of the car.

  “Let’s think about this.” Sunshine surveyed the crowd. She could see O’Neill and Malto near the entrance. “We can’t just walk in there. We have no authority, and I’d hate O’Neill’s new good wishes for his beane sidhe to go to waste when his partner wants him to arrest us because of that video. We could go in with my invisibility spell. That way no one will see us.”

  “I would rather not be spelled,” Aine said. “You go. I’ll wait here.”

  “All right. Maybe I can find something to bring out with me for you to smell. That could be helpful if you could find the killer that way.” Sunshine frowned. “You’re okay, aren’t you? Really, Aine, what happened with you and O’Neill this morning? Why did you change?”

  “I cannot say. This time is strange for me. Things are happening that I cannot control.”

  “Well, you just hang in there. Let’s try to keep it together until we find John’s killer anyway. Then you can take some time off. Relax for a while. It doesn’t look like O’Neill is gonna die anytime soon.” Sunshine started to pat her hand but stopped herself. “I’ll be right back.”

  Aine watched Sunshine become invisible—not to her but apparently to everyone else. The witch slipped into the building without anyone stopping her.

  The idea of going back to Castle O’Neill to live out what time she had left on the earth alone crossed her mind. This city—this age—was so different than any other she’d experienced. She felt lost and uncertain.

  She didn’t understand why O’Neill’s careless touch had made her change forms. Perhaps this was why the rule of never touching a beane sidhe was strictly adhered to. She didn’t know why O’Neill had laid hands on her. She knew that it wasn’t right and couldn’t happen again.

  That was when she heard the cry from somewhere around the building. She got out of the car to search the roofs around her. It had come from overhead. It wasn’t human, and was fueled by ancient magic, as Mr. Bad had suggested.

  Her keen eyes caught the flicker of a dark wing, but that was all. Silence followed, except for the noise from the city that she was growing accustomed to. She watched for a few more minutes to see if anything else appeared, but there was no sign of the creature she thought she’d seen.

  “You!” Detective Malto said in an accusatory tone.

  She left her place at the door to Tattoo Hell to cross the street, her eyes fastened on the distinctive purple convertible. “You’ve got some nerve turning up here. O’Neill was trying to convince me that you and blondie are just innocent bystanders in all this. And yet here you are again. You just couldn’t stay away from what you did, could you?”

  Her presence barely registered on Aine until the detective tried to put metal cuffs on her wrists.

  “That’s right. You look at me when I talk to you.” Malto continued her tirade. “I’m taking you in whether O’Neill thinks it’s a good idea or not.”

  Aine shook her hand, and the cuffs fell to the ground at her feet. “I do not seek to harm you, detective. Please go back to O’Neill and continue your investigation.”

  Malto pulled her service revolver and got up in her face. “On the ground, face down. I don’t want to see you look up until I’ve told you your rights, you sick witch.”

  “Witch?” Aine was angered and confused by the detective referring to her this way. “I am certainly not a witch, young woman.”

  “You heard me,” Malto persisted. “On the ground!”

  “It is not I that shall fall before you.” Aine’s eyes flared brilliantly into Detective Malto’s gaze. “Kneel. Put down that weapon.”

  Detective Malto dropped to her knees in the trashed concrete parking lot. She flung down her revolver. “How may I serve you, my lady?”

  “That’s better. I require nothing of you except that you work faithfully with O’Neill and ignore my presence. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “Good.”

  O’Neill rushed across the street to join them. Horns blared as he skirted around oncoming traffic, flashing his badge. “What’s going on? What did you do to her, Aine?”

  “I did nothing. Detective Malto and I were having a conversation.” Her tone was hard and cold. It was all she could do to keep from changing form into the old, gray hag.

  He helped Malto to her feet, but she was still staring straight ahead as though his presence didn’t register. “Sharon? Are you okay?”

  “She is well, O’Neill. I would not harm her unless she was trying to harm you.” Aine didn’t understand his concern.

  “I’m not sure what you mean by harming her, but stealing her brain isn’t exactly a good thing. Let her go.”

  Aine nodded. “Surely.”

 
Malto blinked. “Where did you come from?” she asked her partner.

  “I was wondering why you were over here,” he said. “We talked about leaving Sunshine Merryweather and Aine out of this.”

  “Yeah. Sure.” Malto glared at Aine. “Let’s get back to the crime scene.”

  O’Neill didn’t follow her across the street right away. He stared into Aine’s eyes. “You’re supposed to obey me or something, right?”

  She inclined her head.

  “Well I’m giving you a direct command. Don’t do anything to her again. Sharon Malto is my friend and partner. Leave her alone. If you have a problem with her, tell me. I’ll handle it. Is that clear?”

  “Of course, O’Neill.”

  He acted as though he was ready for an argument from her. When none came, it stole his thunder. He was left with only a closing remark. “Okay. Thanks.”

  Sunshine was quickly crossing the street to Aine as O’Neill was leaving. He looked right at her as though he’d seen her and then shook his head as he continued back to the tattoo shop.

  “What was that all about?” Sunshine asked as she reappeared.

  “Nothing,” Aine said. “What did you find?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sunshine described the scene inside to Aine and took a piece of ripped and bloody t-shirt out of a bag. “Here. Smell this. See what you think. I think it’s the same person.”

  “Perhaps not a person in the way that you mean it. I heard something out here while you were gone—I haven’t heard such a sound since I was very young.”

  “So for a really, really long time. What was it?”

  “I can’t say for sure. I’m not certain if I actually saw one of the creature’s black wings as it flew away.”

  “I get it,” Sunshine said impatiently. “You’re not one hundred percent on this. It’s only a guess. Give it your best shot.”

  Aine’s forehead furrowed as she tried to decipher her partner’s words. “I am not familiar with that phrase.”

  “Geez! Just tell me what you think is doing this.”

  “A harpy.”