by Jamie Davis
“That’s my cousin Joey. Why?”
“Seeing you reminded me where I’d seen him before. I ran into him earlier, before dinner. I was at a … local business establishment that specializes in games of chance. He was there and seemed to be in some sort of trouble. There were a few goons, bouncer types, dragging him out of the room. He was clearly upset, kept saying something about how he could pay for the boxes.”
“Boxes? He used those words?”
“Or something like that.” Danny smiled. “It was good running into you. Maybe we’ll run into each other again.”
She watched him leave. Ordinarily, she’d be embarrassed by the encounter with the attractive boy. But Joey was a cloud that covered everything else in her mind. Winnie wondered who she could call to check up on him. Not her mother. Elaine would only worry, and she couldn’t do anything to help, anyway.
She took out her phone and dialed.
Cait could track him down and find out what happened, keep him out of trouble until Winnie could get away from work. It would have to be enough.
She pushed her cart past the Barber Firm’s double glass doors. She could clean her family problems soon, but the conference room was next in line.
CHAPTER 12
Halfway back to the elevator, Winnie’s phone chirped in her pocket.
“Winnie, it’s Cait. I found Joey. He was in a daze wandering the street near Charmed. We’re lucky he didn’t get picked up by Red Legs. He’s stoned on Sable casting and looks beat to hell.”
“Crap. Thanks for finding him. Is he with you now?”
“Yeah, I used my key and brought him inside the shop. Hope you don’t mind. I didn’t know what else to do. He’s pretty messed up and I didn’t have a car.”
“Can you sit with him until I can finish work? I’ll come over, soon as I’m done.”
“Yeah, it’s not like I have a job.”
“You’re lucky. I’m ready to pop my boss over the head. If you were here, he’d be dead.”
“Maybe.” Cait laughed. “Finish what you’re doing. Joey doesn’t look like he’ll be awake anytime soon.” She sighed. “I thought he was clean.”
“Me, too. We’ll figure this out. I should be there in a few hours. Sit tight and stay in the back. Keep the lights off.”
“Already ahead of you. I took him down in the basement and settled him on some old blankets. He’ll be fine until you get here.”
“You’re a God-send. I owe you.”
Winnie ended the call and waited for the elevator, wondering what she should do.
Joey’s mom had died from a casting overdose. She’d exhausted her magical energy completely, drained every ounce of her life force reaching for that final high. Winnie remembered her mom telling her between sobs that she must never cross that line herself.
Joey was headed down the same path. Mom would die if she found out. The stress would flare her arthritis, and she could only take so much. Winnie had to keep that from happening, which meant keeping Joey’s condition under wraps until she could figure out a way to get him clean
The elevator dinged and Winnie stepped out onto the next floor. She checked her watch, figuring she had at least another hour before she could check on Joey and Cait.
Winnie focused on finishing her job. She hated it and her boss, but she needed the money. Joey was family, but he wasn’t her mother. Elaine’s needs would always come first.
Three hours later, Winnie finished. It was nearly four in the morning when she got to Charmed, fumbling with her keys to get inside.
She yelped at a voice from the shadows.
“I suppose you’re here to check on your cousin, Ms. Durham.”
Winnie ignored the voice, then unlocked and opened the door. Something blocked it from outside.
A tall, thin man with a jagged scar across his ruined nose held his foot against the door. “No need to be rude, now. I am only here to deliver a message. This time.”
“What do you want? I’ll call the police.”
“I’m here to deliver a message, Ms. Durham. We followed Joey here, but were reluctant to approach your friend. She didn’t seem especially friendly, and unnecessary squabbles are bad for business. But you are more reasonable, yes?”
“Give me your message and I’ll be sure Joey gets it.”
“The message isn’t for Joey. It’s for you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. Your cousin has managed to get himself into some trouble with a few of my associates. We agreed to help him satisfy his needs, and he promised a favor in return. He failed to deliver and we must collect the debt. Your friend interrupted us and brought him here. We know that you and Mr. Merrilyn have an arrangement and we do not wish to interfere by entering the premises without permission.”
“Artos Merrilyn and I have no such arrangement. I am not involved in that sort of business, with him or you.”
“We all owe something to Mr. Merrilyn. I pay him off just like you do. I’m only asking for what I’m owed, same as Mr. Merrilyn. If your cousin can’t pay it off, maybe you can help him out.”
“How much does he owe?”
“Ten grand. That’s the street value of his boxes used.”
“Where am I going to get ten thousand dollars?”
“Word has it you’re a helluva caster. Girl like you won’t never go hungry. Of course, I could ask your mother. She’s always paid his debts before, just like she did for his mother.”
“You leave my mom out of this.” It was just like Elaine to enable Joey’s addiction by clearing his debts. “We can work something out. But I can’t do anything now, and I need to talk with Joey.”
“Two days. Then my payments are due to Mr. Merrilyn. Here’s my card. Call me. I need the money or new boxes. You decide. And take your time, as long as it’s two days.”
The thin man spread his lips in a cruel smile, then removed his foot from the doorway and walked down the street until he disappeared around the corner.
Winnie slipped inside, closed the door, and locked it.
She looked at the card: Zachary Corfield, Fixer.
She shook her head, muttering to herself. She had Mom’s medicine, Joey’s debt, and whatever Merrilyn expected to collect hanging over her head. She could pay the fixer. They had that much in savings, but it would mean she couldn’t buy medicine, or make rent, for either the apartment or the shop. Ten grand would clean them out.
Winnie made sure the deadbolt was latched and turned toward the basement. She had to rouse Joey from his stupor. He damned sure was going to pay for his mess.
Cait appeared from the shadows. “I thought I heard voices out here. Who were you talking to?”
“The person Joey owes ten thousand dollars to.”
“Ten thousand?”
“Yep. And he said if I don’t pay him, he’ll ask my mom for the money.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I’m exhausted, and can’t think about this clearly. I need to talk to Joey and then I need some sleep. Maybe an answer won’t feel impossible by the time I wake up.”
“He’s awake. I just left him. He keeps telling me how sorry he is. Over and over.”
“He’s dragged me and my mom into his mess. Joey’s going to have a new definition of sorry.”
Winnie pushed past Cait and headed for the back stairs, down to the basement. The dirt floor was cluttered with debris, lit by a bare bulb suspended from the ceiling. Joey was in the corner, sitting up on a pile of blankets, knees pulled to his chest, rocking back and forth, rubbing his hands together as if washing them under invisible water.
He looked as she descended the steps. “Winnie! Cait told me she sent you to find me.”
“Shut up, Joey.” Winnie was bubbling lava. She took a breath and continued. “I just spoke to a man named Zachary Corfield. Know him?”
Joey nodded, his body shaking.
“He says you owe him ten thousand dollars. Because we’re family, your debt’s n
ow mine.”
Joey flinched and looked away.
“You’d better be embarrassed. How many times has Mom paid off your debts?”
“A few … maybe three times.”
“Three times. Three times you dragged my mom into your crap!”
“I’m sorry, Winnie. I can’t help my — ”
“I don’t want your excuses, Joey. It’s too late. My shop, my mom, my friends, and my whole entire life are all wrapped up in your mess. Mr. Corfield isn’t the type of man who takes no for an answer. I have two days, then he goes to Mom. Do you want her to know about this?”
“What do you want me to do? I don’t have that kind of money.”
“I want you to tell me everything you know about this Zachary Corfield and how he’s tied to Artos Merrilyn. Then we’ll get him to back off while we clear the debt. Until then, you’re staying here, out of sight, until I can figure this out.”
CHAPTER 13
Constable Victor Holmes checked his uniform tunic again, waiting in the antechamber outside the Director’s suite in the Department of Magical Containment building. His buttons were still polished, reflecting dim light from the electric wall sconces lining the chamber. The plain wooden bench was like sitting on a rock. He shifted a bit to take some pressure off his tail bone. He was always nervous and self-conscious in this building, where he considered himself in competition with his Red Leg colleagues. This visit had raised the bar on that anxiety. Director Kane had summoned him personally.
He’d received the summons while finishing his day. Victor’s team had shut down several small-time charm runner operations. The items confiscated for cataloging and destruction were considered harmless by most, if you could call anything that damned a man’s soul “harmless.” The call had come over the direct line from headquarters. Victor had picked it up himself, being the last one in the office.
Now he sat, waiting in what he hoped appeared to be a patient manner. He couldn’t be in trouble. He would hold his district’s numbers against anyone in the force. Victor had always strived to be the best of the best, and swiftly earn an inspector’s shield. Inspectors led Sable trade investigations for the force, dealt with the biggest players in the illegal magical trade. He longed to be included.
A door opened at the chamber’s far end. A woman stepped out in a tight-fitting black blazer and skirt, and walked toward him.
“Constable Holmes?”
Victor stood, clicked his heels together and nodded acknowledgement. “That’s me.”
“Come with me. The Director will see you now.”
Victor followed the woman, glancing down again to make sure he had no lint to mar the front of his dark navy blue uniform. Now wasn’t the time to be sloppy, although no one who knew of Victor’s fastidious nature would ever call him anything but precise, in both his dress and everyday attention to detail.
The woman led him through several doors that finally led to a palatial office. The floors were made of carefully-laid black and white marble tiles, walls lined with dark-stained wood paneling. It was the single biggest room that Victor had ever seen, and seemed even larger due to its lack of furnishings or decoration. A large wooden desk sat at the far end of the room with a single leather padded chair behind it. That tall-backed chair was turned towards the window. Victor wondered if it was occupied.
As the woman led him towards the desk, he looked to his left and saw a strange chair, or perhaps the sculpture of a chair, carved out of a single block of granite. It was massive and plain. Its only adornment seemed to be the golden hilt of a sword jutting up from the sculpture’s back.
Victor was still staring at the sculpture when the woman cleared her throat. His attention returned to the desk. There was nowhere for anyone to sit on his side, so he assumed a position of attention and waited.
“Director Kane, Constable Holmes is here as you requested.”
A pale white hand appeared to the left of the chair back, gave a wave of dismissal, then disappeared again. The woman nodded, fixed Victor with a steely-eyed glare, then turned and headed for the door, her heels clacking on the marble floor, fading until they were nothing. After they were alone, the Director said nothing. Victor felt uneasy in the silence of the moment.
Then, after an endless minute of silence, the Director spoke. “Are you a true believer, Constable Holmes?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I’m not sure what you mean.”
The chair spun around and Victor got his first look, up close and in person, at the man he idolized more than anyone on the planet. Gray eyes fixed him with a stare that caused him to blink defensively once they were locked on his own.
“Do you believe in what we are doing, Constable? It’s a simple question. Many people, including our nation’s elected leaders, question the Assembly’s recent actions. Some say the passage of Resolution 84 is the beginning of a literal witch hunt.” A thin, bony finger pointed toward him, directly at his chest. “Do you believe in the righteousness of what we are doing here in the Department?”
“Of course I do, sir. I have wanted nothing more than to become a Red Leg officer as long as I can remember. This is what I was born to do.”
The Director’s eyes bore into his own, as if searching for truth behind his words. With a nod, perhaps of approval, Kane continued. “Good. Because in these tumultuous times, we are sorely tested. There are those who would undermine the work I have put in to secure our future without the hindrance and danger of magic in our lives. I need good men and women that I can count on to secure that work and carry it to the streets.”
Victor wanted to cry out that he was one of those chosen men, but he remained at attention and silent.
“You were assigned a woman you were to watch in your district, though you were not told why. I would like to know what you are doing to keep this woman under surveillance.”
“I’m not sure I know who you’re referring to. I have several women under my team’s surveillance programs. We are striving to stamp out simple charm runners, as well as any Sable traders in Baltimore. I wasn’t aware of any special requests from your office, sir. I assure you that my team will drop everything to focus on such a request.”
“I’m sure you will. It is my fault. I sent a request through regular channels. She is one of the ones you mentioned. The woman to whom I am referring is one Guinevere Durham. Do you know her?”
Victor was startled by the name. She was hardly one of his most hardened criminals. As far as he knew, she wasn’t a criminal at all, other than being a chanter, which cast her as a liar and a cheat by nature herself.
“Director, I am tracking her as part of a routine investigation. She was seen at a recent raid to capture a Sable trader. She and her companions left the scene before they could be questioned. Her shop closed after the passage of the Resolution, then reopened after she acquired a magical repair license from a bureaucrat downtown. I’m still attempting to ascertain how she gained access to such a license so quickly. It doesn’t appear she applied for the license through traditional channels. I’m looking into it.”
“She didn’t acquire it on her own, Constable. She had it given to her by a benefactor. Now, I believe she will attempt to pay back that benefactor. She must not be allowed to succeed in her efforts to do so.”
“Who is this benefactor? I will raid their home and business the moment I — ”
“That would be futile, Constable. Artos Merrilyn is far too clever to leave incriminating evidence of his Sable Trading activities laying around. No, you will leave him alone. His downfall lies with Miss Durham. Bring her down, and you will destroy Merrilyn’s plans.”
“Excuse my ignorance, sir. How can stopping one woman without so much as a jaywalking fine in her file possibly bring down someone like Artos Merrilyn?”
“Ignorance can be a blessing, Constable. But it’s unbecoming in one who seeks an inspector’s shield.” Kane leaned forward, staring in Victor’s eyes again. “You need only know that she’s the key. She wil
l soon seek out more direct assistance from Artos Merrilyn. Did you know that?”
Victor shook his head. “No, sir.”
“He is about to give her something, then ask her to make sure it’s delivered. That delivery must not happen. Identify the magical item she carries, confiscate it, and arrest her. Bring her directly to me and nowhere else. It must be a legal arrest, and you will need rock-solid evidence or eye-witness testimony to back it up. Anything less and Merrilyn’s supporters in the government will get it thrown out. Secure her arrest in the next few days, and you will earn your shield.”
Victor considered what the Director was saying. Winnie Durham was a small player at best. He wasn’t even sure she was doing anything illegal. The Director said she was going to meeting with Merrilyn soon, and would receive some illegal magic item to deliver.
But how did he know?
“Well, Constable?”
“Sir?” Victor returned to the present, cursing his distraction.
“I have given you an assignment. An extremely important, time-sensitive assignment. What do you have to say?”
“Yes, sir. I will get on it immediately.”
“Very well. Don’t let me down, Constable. I do not take failure lightly. Go and collect this chanter girl for me.” Kane gave a wave of dismissal with his pale white hand, then turned the chair away from Victor again to stare out his window.
Victor heard clicking heels, then turned and saw the Director’s assistant standing in the doorway, gesturing for him to follow her again. He looked back over his shoulder for a final glance at the Director’s chair, then followed her from the room.
Outside, past the security gate, Victor took out his phone and placed a call.
“Yeah, boss.”
“That is ‘Yes, Constable, how may I help you?’ not ‘Yeah, boss.’ Do you have eyes on your assignment?”
“No, she’s in her shop. It seems strange, it being so late and all. I’m in the car waiting.”