by Ben Reeder
“Okay, so the journal did tell us something,” Collins said as he turned around. “From Chomsky’s journal entry, we know he was asleep until late Monday night, when the wards were activated. That’s the last mention he makes of the Maxilla. We know from his journal and from witnesses that he was at school all day Tuesday. Chance was the last person to see him alive, at about three-thirty that afternoon. We know he was killed sometime Tuesday night. That opens two windows of only a few hours when no one knows where he was.”
“About midnight Monday night to seven or so Tuesday morning,” Lucas offered, “and Tuesday afternoon to Wednesday morning, right?”
“Right,” Collins answered. “The investigation into his murder is still open, so I pulled the evidence we had on it. Detective Roberts pulled his bank statements, and we have him using his debit card to buy gas just south of Springfield around one o’clock Tuesday morning.”
“How does all of this help us find the Maxilla?” Dr. C asked.
“It doesn’t help us find the Maxilla. Concentrating on the sword only led to dead ends. What you have to do is focus on the guy who had it. We’re gonna find where Chomsky went to hide it.”
“What’s the big circle?” Wanda asked.
“That’s the distance he could have traveled in about three hours. His time out of pocket was about six and a half to seven hours. That gives him about three hours out, half an hour to hide the sword, and three hours back, then half an hour to change and get to the school.”
“We know where he was about one a.m. or so,” Lucas said as he got to his feet. “So, if we find out the exact spot on the map, we can do another circle with a two hour radius, and cut our search area from about what, seventy thousand square miles to about thirty one thousand?” He looked to Dr. C for confirmation and got a nod.
I shrugged, since beyond knowing area of a circled equaled pi times r squared, I needed a calculator. I was just glad it cut our area from freaking huge to just really, really big.
“Okay, Kale, you and Romanoff are here with me, working the evidence. Corwyn, you knew him best. Take Fortunato and Cooper and go check out Chomsky’s room for evidence. Anything he might have had with him that night, you go over it with a fine-tooth comb. Anything you find, bag it, tag it and bring it to me.”
“We’re not detectives,” I said, gesturing between Alexis and myself.
“Girl’s a werewolf, kid. She’s got better senses than any of us. And you got pretty good instincts. Between the three of you, I figure you’ll find something. Evidence kits are in the hallway. Wear your gloves and keep your mouths closed. Tie your hair back, too.”
We trudged out into the hallway and Shade handed me a ponytail holder.
Mr. Chomsky’s bedroom was on the east side of the house, the largest on the second floor. Dr. C had taken the one next to it, but as far as I knew, he hadn’t gone in it except for a few times when he had to. I’d never set foot in the room. The door opened and we stood there for a few seconds. I heard Shade inhale through her nose while Dr. C let out a soft sigh. He wasn’t looking forward to this, I could tell.
I stepped across the threshold first and took a long, slow look around the room. The bed was a double, with an iron headboard and foot board, and a thick, dark green comforter. A dark-stained wood dresser sat against the wall to my right, and a bookshelf took up part of the wall to my left, with a chair and a small table set next to the window that looked out over the front of the house. There wasn’t a door for a closet, but I saw a tall wooden wardrobe on the far wall from me.
I wandered over to the dresser and looked over the few things he’d left on it. A silver bowl held change and half of a roll of Lifesavers, along with a couple of quartz crystals and a pair of mismatched cufflinks. I tried to imagine what might have happened that night when he came home from hiding the Maxilla. I heard Dr. C and Shade step into the room behind me, as I saw in my mind’s eye how things might have gone.
Chomsky steps into the room. He’s in a hurry. He has less than an hour to get changed and get to the school for first period. Conference period. He goes to the wardrobe to get out of his dirty clothes . . . he sets something next to the wardrobe before he takes his shoes off and peels his clothes off. Even he isn’t sure where he’s been.
I shook my head and looked around the room. Vague impressions lingered in my head, and I felt something in my hand. I opened my hand to see one of the quartz crystals lying on my palm.
“In there,” I said with a gesture at the wardrobe.
Shade nodded and opened the doors, then squatted down to look inside. She reached in and poked around, and presented me with a wonderful view.
Dr. C nudged me as he went by, and I gave him a dirty look before I went back to sorting through the stuff on Mr. Chomsky’s dresser. Fountain pens, three wristwatches, two pocket watches, and two pocket knives went through my hands without so much as a tingle. Only the touchstones seemed to trigger any response from my mystic senses.
“I think I found something,” Shade’s muffled voice came from inside the wardrobe. She stood with a pair of rumpled pants dangling from one hand, and a pair of weathered hiking boots held in the other. “I smell pollen on these, and some kind of dirt. And . . . fish.”
I grabbed a couple of the paper bags Collins had given us and held one open for her while she dropped the pants into it. Dr. C held the second to catch the boots, and sent her downstairs to deliver them to Collins.
“We’re missing something,” I muttered.
“You’re right. Something feels off, like there’s something we should have noticed. But what?” Dr. C said. He sounded as frustrated as I was.
“I ask that question every day, sir,” I said. “But I’m fifteen. The answer’s usually something stupid like ‘taking out the trash’ or ‘Shade changed her hair.’ I’m pretty much out of my league here.”
“You’re not doing so bad,” he said back as he looked around the room. “Collins is right, you’ve got good instincts. You didn’t do so bad finding Sydney’s killer. He didn’t want to be found either. Come on, let’s go back downstairs, get a little distance and a different perspective.” He put a hand on my shoulder and pointed me toward the door, but I took one last look at the room before I closed the door behind me.
When we got back to the library, Lucas was just stepping back from the map on the dry erase board. A new circle was drawn in blue inside the larger one, and a sticky note was near the center of the smaller circle. I stepped up beside Lucas and looked at the whole picture, timeline, map and bank statement. Collins was sitting at Dr’ C’s desk with Lucas’ laptop open. He looked up at me as I stared at the board.
“You look like my oldest niece with a jigsaw puzzle,” Collins said.
“I’m trying to figure out how you got all of this from the same journal I read.”
“I didn’t. I mean, yeah, about half of it I got from the journal. The rest is from Holly’s notes and the statements she took. A lot of detective work is learning how to look at a crime, and get a picture from what a bunch of different people tell you, then figure out what really happened. The rest of it’s evidence. Main thing to remember, people lie, but the evidence don’t.”
“Right, so you think we’re going to find Mr. Chomsky’s favorite fishing spot from his pants and shoes?” I asked.
“Seeds and plant residue would tell us what he walked through, and soil samples can tell us almost exactly where he’s been, so yeah, if he went fishing, we’ll know where.”
“In case you missed it, we don’t exactly have our own crime lab here,” Wanda gestured at the walls. “And Cindy Walker’s dad is a cop. He says it takes weeks sometimes to run down forensic evidence.”
“We do have the science labs at school, though,” Lucas countered, then gave me a grin. “And two wizardy types who can probably do some of the same thing, only with divination. Remember how Chance figured out King killed Mr. Chomsky?”
“Whoa, don’t go turning us into Sherlock Holmes
, dude,” I said.
“I was thinking more of Bruce Wayne, only without the cowl and neuroses. Well, without the cowl, anyway. You already have the anger issues down.”
“Who’s Bruce Wayne?” I asked.
Lucas gave me a look like I’d just committed some kind of sacrilege.
“You don’t know who Bruce Wayne is? Batman? The world’s greatest detective?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah . . . wait, Batman’s a detective?” Everyone looked like me like I’d just belted out a show tune at a funeral.
“Mother of All, save me from the unknowing. Lucas, lend him every comic book and graphic novel you own,” Wanda ordered. “Educate the poor boy, so he doesn’t embarrass himself like that again.”
He gave her a thumbs up, and Shade came over and kissed my cheek.
“I’d love to see you in a cape and tights,” she whispered in my ear. “You’ll always be my superhero.” The sound of her voice in my ear sent my hormones into overdrive, and I had to take a deep breath before I could think straight.
The sound of a cell phone’s insistent chirp broke into the room, and Collins reached for the case on his belt as he headed for the door. He was gone for less than a minute, and when he came back in, he still had the phone to his ear. He pointed at me then crooked his finger for me to come with him. Dr. C was on his feet as Collins grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.
“Text the address to me,” Collins said before he hung up.
“What’s going on?” Dr. C demanded.
“Need the kid to come with me. They found another circle.”
My blood ran cold when I heard that, but I headed back into the library and grabbed my own jacket and told the others where I was going. Dead silence fell when I told them they’d found another circle. I kissed Shade and went to head for the door. When she stood up, I stopped and turned back to her.
“I’m coming, too. Shut up and listen to me, Chance,” she said when I shook my head. “You know the magick part, but I can smell and see things you can’t.”
Our eyes locked, and we tried to stare each other down. I tried to find a flaw in her argument, but I couldn’t keep my thoughts straight while I was looking her in the eyes. I didn’t really want to, but I looked away first.
“All right, but stay out of sight, okay?” I said quietly.
“Better forgiveness than permission; I got it. I’ve got your back.”
In spite of myself, I smiled at her before I headed back out into the hallway. I heard Dr. C’s voice, low and intense, as I got closer.
“He’s in enough danger already. Besides, I’m the department’s occult expert. I should be called in on this. Leave Chance out of it.” I stopped and listened, not wanting to step in the middle of things.
“Look Doc, I know you’re trying to do what’s best for the kid, but if they found another one of these damn things, then someone else’s kid’s missing. And Chance is the expert on this, not you. So, yeah, I’m gonna call him in on this one, because he’s the best shot I got at bringing these kids back home safe. It’s a crime scene, so there’ll be deputies all over the place. He’ll be almost as safe as he is here.”
“He’d better be,” Dr. C said.
I stepped into the foyer and slipped my jacket on, playing oblivious to the tense looks they were exchanging.
“I’m ready,” I said. “I’ll be back soon, Dr. C.”
He looked like he wanted to say something, but he only gave me a nod before I headed out the door and back into the night.
The ride over in the unmarked police cruiser was all business. Collins laid out how to handle myself at a crime scene, basically “Look, don’t touch” and to keep my mouth shut until he asked for my opinion.
He headed into Old Town, which used to be part of Joplin. Not the best part of town to be in after dark. Come to think of it, before dark wasn’t much safer. Crumbling, abandoned businesses stood next to rubble-filled lots, and if there were flickering lights in some of the supposedly empty storefronts, no one was complaining. The closer we got to the railroad tracks, the more buildings I saw with heavy iron bars over the windows and doors, and the fewer signs that weren’t years out of date, faded or covered in graffiti. Most of the businesses that weren’t abandoned had NCK tags on them. On some of the buildings, though, I saw another mark, usually in the upper right hand corner of the wall, where a person couldn’t reach. The Night City Kings ruled this part of town, but they shared it with a vampire clan whether they liked it or not.
“Vampire marks,” I told Collins as I pointed to one. He nodded and gestured to the glove compartment.
“Get me some pictures of it when I stop. One up close, so I can see detail, and a couple from further back. Make sure you get the bottom of the building in the shot, and something I can use for scale, so I know how high up it is and how big it is.”
He pulled over beside one of the buildings, and I took three shots of it with the digital camera I found in the glove box. I tried to get the dumpster behind the building in the shot, and ended up catching part of it. When I handed him the camera, he thumbed through the pics and nodded before he handed it back to me and pulled back onto the road again.
“You ever think about being a cop?” He asked. “You got the instincts for it, and you got the heart.”
“Lately, I’ve just been hoping to survive the week. I haven’t had much time for thinking about career day, you know?” I watched him nod, and wondered why he’d asked.
“Yeah, I kinda noticed that. So, why are you working this missing kid thing?”
“Because Dani asked me to. I figure, if she was coming to me, no one else was taking her seriously. And I know what her girlfriend’s going through.”
“Guess if anyone would . . .” he let the thought hang there, unspoken for a moment.
I nodded.
Up ahead, the blue and red strobes from the top of a police cruiser flashed against the sides of buildings. We pulled up to see a lone cruiser parked in front of an apartment building, with the officer standing by the front door. Collins grabbed the mike to his radio and reported us as ten-something. When the dispatcher’s static-y voice came back, he opened the door and stepped out.
After a few seconds, he gave me a gesture and I got out and followed him toward the skinny cop standing by the door. His uniform hung off of his shoulders, like it had tried to swallow him and hadn’t quite finished the job. His nametag read “Perkins.” Nothing about his face screamed “cop” to me. I was getting more of a serial killer vibe off him. He had a nose that seemed too big for his narrow face, and watery blue eyes that never seemed to stay on one thing for very long, like he wasn’t actually looking at anything so much as looking for something. And something about him just made my skin want to crawl.
“Whadda we got?” Collins asked. Perkins started, like we’d just appeared in front of him or something.
“Yeah, uh, the super found some kind of circle down in the basement, in the uh, laundry room, I think.” He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb as he talked, and Collins looked through the doorway for a second.
“You clear the scene?” Collins asked. Perkins nodded quickly.
“Oh, yeah. No one down there. I closed the area off and called you and the forensics team. They ought to be here any time. What’s he doing here?”
“Consultant,” was all Collins said before he went through the door with me on his heels.
As much as I wanted to be as far away from Perkins as I could, my shoulders itched at the idea of having him behind me. Still, it was better than standing next to him, and every step made me feel better. When we got to the stairwell, Collins pulled out a white ball of something out of his jacket pocket and handed it to me.
“Foot covers and gloves. Once forensics clears the scene, if I give you the go ahead to enter the scene, you put those on. It’s like I said in the car, you don’t touch anything you don’t have to. You don’t pick anything up, you don’t move anything. Something catches yo
ur eye, you point it out to me. I’ll tell you if you can move it or whatever. We clear?”
“Yeah. Point, don’t touch, and stay the hell out of the way.” I got a smile and a nod, then he turned and went down the stairs. I didn’t miss that he undid the snap on his pistol, though.
Inside, the building was showing its age. The walls were starting to show cracks in the faded brown paint, and the black and green spotted linoleum was chipped and showing concrete in places. The concrete steps were smooth under my shoes, with brittle rubber strips glued along the edges. Aside from the sound of our feet hitting the floor, the only thing I heard was the hum and occasional pop of the fluorescent lights overhead. My nose told me that something was moldy down here, and that this place had been too long without being disturbed.
Collins hit the bottom of the stairs and turned to his right. His footsteps were mostly muffled by the threadbare green carpet, and the creep factor went way up for me as my feet hit the ancient carpet.
A few steps away from the taped off door, Collins turned and held up one finger, and I stopped in my tracks. He nodded before he put his hand on the butt of his gun, then covered the rest of the distance and leaned forward to peer around the edge of the door. After a few seconds, he ducked under the tape and stepped inside, then ducked back out and let out a relieved sounding breath.
“See what you can see from the door,” he told me.
As soon as I got to the doorway, something felt off. I could see one edge of the circle to my right, the rest hidden by a wall that separated the laundry area from a more brightly painted section. The reddish brown circle was a dark stain against the faded yellow. I gave him a shrug and a shake of my head.
“Can’t see enough of it.”
“Didn’t think so. What’s your gut tell you?” he asked.
“That something isn’t right about this one. I just don’t know what.” I shrugged.
“All right. Cover your feet and follow me. Step where I step, and keep your hands in your pockets,” he told me as he pulled his own covers out of his pockets. Once he had them on, he put on a pair of latex gloves, but he shook his head when I pulled mine out. “You don’t touch anything until after the forensics team gets done. All we’re doing is getting a little closer so you can see the circle.”