by Sarah Blair
Jai raised an eyebrow. “You would know, Mr. Ghosts Gone Wild.”
Williams pressed his hand to his chest at the reference to his ghost hunting television show. “Ouch.”
“Low blow, Jai,” Sidney warned. Just because she teased him constantly didn’t mean anyone else had the right.
“Morning, Lake. Mmm, jelly. Come to Papa.” Williams took the high road, pretending the other man had just become a spectral apparition. He wiggled his fingers at an oozing donut as if he could bring it forth from the case by sheer will power alone. It reminded her of other oozing things and she turned, leaving Williams to finish the transaction.
Outside, her partner sucked in a noisy breath as they cut back through the park towards Park Row.
“What a great morning, huh?” Williams took a big bite out of his jelly donut and spoke with his mouth full. “These flowers, gorgeous.”
She took a good look at her partner. His dark unruly hair stuck out on one side and his beige trench coat hung from his lanky frame like it was still on a hanger. The tie he wore, a navy background with royal blue plaid, and a bright turquoise vine running throughout, hung crooked around his neck. “What’s with the tie?”
“What about it? It’s vintage.”
“Vintage clown?”
“Be nice. It’s early,” he said.
“You’re in a cheery mood. Did you get laid or something?”
“Sure did.” Williams shoved the last half of the donut in his mouth and licked his fingers off one at a time. “Megan was feelin’ frisky. I took advantage. Sue me.”
“So that’s why you weren’t at the crime scene.”
“No. Today’s Friday, remember? I take the girls to school every Friday. This is not a new thing”.
“I think you were avoiding it.”
“Was not.”
Sidney shrugged. “Admit it. You’re a wuss when things get gory.”
“I did thirteen riveting episodes of that stupid show and thirty seconds of me barfing is all anybody remembers. Am I ever going to live that down?”
“Not as long as the Internet exists.” Sidney bumped his shoulder with her own. “Besides, I was referring to that time with the sushi. You still owe me for those shoes.”
“You’re never going to let that drop, are you? Whatever you saw today can’t be any worse than what those hexed koalas did on that cargo ship. I didn’t barf then and that was the grossest thing ever.”
“This was worse.”
“No way. Nothing can be worse than devil koalas.”
“Nefertiri’s Curse was worse than the devil koalas. Remember how those research students were—”
“No. Don’t even.” Williams shuddered. “So what are we dealing with now? It seriously can’t be as nasty as flesh melting Mummy curses.”
Sidney wasn’t concerned about being overheard. The street grew quiet as they made their way down toward the waterfront in the shadow of the Brooklyn Bridge. The traffic on the ramp above made it difficult for anyone to hear anyway. Still, she waited until after they passed the narrow dog run before she said anything in case the older woman flipping through Cosmo felt like being nosy while her tiny Yorkie sniffed around.
“New Guy thinks it’s a werewolf.”
“They’re extinct, right?” Williams stopped short at the corner. “Wait, what new guy?”
“Tom got a new assistant. About damn time. I was starting to think he’d moved into the morgue. Maybe this way he can come up for some fresh air once in a while.” She took a few steps into the crosswalk. “And yeah, they’re supposed to be extinct.”
“A lot of things aren’t supposed to exist, but they do.” Williams caught up to her and they crossed the street together. “Is he cool?”
“The new guy? He’s okay, I guess. Kind of hard to get a feel for someone when you meet them over a shredded hunk of torso.”
“Ugh. Gross.”
A narrow four-story red brick walk up stood on the next corner. The ground floor contained an eclectic little bar called the Cowgirl Sea-Horse. Antler chandeliers hung from the ceiling draped with fish netting and colorful paper chains. With great food and cold booze on the menu, it was a nice little spot to hang out and even nicer that they had a deal with the owners. The agents went about their business on the top floor and no one asked any questions.
Williams opened the side door with his key card and they went in. The place was empty this time of morning, but the kitchen staff would be arriving soon to prep for the day. The door clicked shut behind them and they went straight through the kitchen to the staircase that led up to their office.
“We should bring the Banks guy here,” Sidney said. “He had a Southern accent. Maybe he’ll like the shrimp and grits.”
“Or the chicken fried chicken,” Williams said. “Not to stereotype or anything. But for the simple reason that it’s freakin’ awesome.”
“You eat that junk almost every day. When’s the last time you had your cholesterol checked?”
“What? It comes with collard greens. That’s healthy.”
Sidney opened the office door and entered the loft area. It wasn’t a huge space, but it was plenty of room for their little group. The original hardwood floors were still there from the days when huge ships sailed into port at the end of the street and horses clip-clopped heavy wagons across the cobblestones.
Their space rose above the surrounding buildings, so natural light filled the room. A glass wall hung with Venetian blinds partitioned off the chief’s office from the rest of the space.
This morning his door stood open and he was already behind his desk.
“Morning, Chief,” Williams said, on the way to his computer.
Sidney stopped and leaned in the doorway. “You’re here early.”
The chief glanced up. His collar was unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled to his elbows.
“Or did you never leave?”
He rubbed his hand over his bald head and sat back in his chair. “I hear we had a cold one this morning.”
“Couple blocks from here.” She went into his office and placed her coffee on the edge of the desk next to his nameplate. The black carved granite read: Chief Mitchell Harris.
She narrowed her eyes. “Where were you between midnight and 2 a.m.?”
He tossed a ballpoint on his desk and stood. She had to tilt her head back a little to see his face.
He lowered his voice, giving it that gruff sound that made her ache for cool sheets and warm skin. “Going to arrest me?”
“Lucky for you, I left my handcuffs at home.”
A smile twitched across his mouth. He scratched the stubble on his jaw as cover, then took a toothbrush out of the top drawer and grabbed yesterday’s red and black striped tie from the edge of his desk. Sidney hid her disappointment when he directed the conversation back to business. “Williams went to the scene with you?”
“He was conveniently late.” She followed him to the bathroom. “You know he has a weak constitution.”
“It’s FRIDAY,” Williams yelled across the empty room. “Kids. School. My turn. Not new.”
They both ignored him.
“What were you able to determine?” the chief asked.
“It can’t be what it looks like.”
“What’s it look like?”
“Werewolf.”
Sidney didn’t say anything else, allowing a moment to let the information sink in while he freshened up. There were plenty of nights when Mitch had been the one to hold her and tell her the ugly things in her dreams weren’t real. All she had to do was look at him to know they were both recalling her screams of terror in the middle of the night. He turned off the water and wiped his face with a paper towel from the dispenser.
“What’s Tom’s opinion?”
“Hasn’t formed one yet.”
Mitch turned up his collar and tied his tie. When he finished the knot, she folded the collar down. She caught the edge of his worn-off cologne, a mix of chocolate and ora
nges. The rope of worry that bound her up loosened a little.
He ran his hands along her upper arms. “You’re shaking.”
Sidney tossed a quick glance out the door and saw Williams engrossed with something on his computer screen.
“Haven’t finished my coffee yet.” She gave Mitch a brave smile. His eyes were the same gray color as the shadows the bridge cast over the street outside. “I’m fine.”
“You always forget, I can tell when you’re lying.” His hands dropped away, leaving her arms cold. He checked his appearance again in the mirror, then pulled an electric razor out of the cabinet.
“Hey, photos are up,” Williams called out.
The chief crossed the room and leaned over Williams’ shoulder. The flat screen monitor showed the photos from the crime scene in high resolution.
Sidney took her time in joining them. She still had the stink on her clothes, she didn’t need to relive the visuals. She also refused to let this case get to her. The last thing she wanted was for the chief, or anyone else for that matter, thinking she was too scared to do her job.
The chief squinted at the picture.
“Wow. Definitely a werewolf,” Williams said.
Sidney stayed behind her partner, and paid close attention to the chief’s reaction instead. He squinted as he studied the photos, and if she didn’t know any better, she would have said his skin paled a few shades. But he couldn’t have been an FBI agent for twenty-five years only to get squeamish at something like this.
“Werewolves haven’t been anything more than a fairy tale for centuries.” The chief straightened up, but the edges of his mouth were set in a tight line. Sidney could tell when he was lying too.
“Then what the hell do you call that?” Williams gestured to the screen.
“There’s no point jumping to conclusions until we get a report from Tom,” the chief said. “Lake, my office.”
She followed him into his office and he shut the door against Williams’ open-mouthed stare. Her partner hated being excluded from anything.
“I can put you on something else if you’re not comfortable with this.” He moved behind his desk but didn’t sit down.
“It’s all right. I can handle it.”
He tapped the pen on the desk for a few seconds while he watched her. “Peters is tracking down a possible revenant. You could give him a hand.”
“No. I want this case.” It grated on her nerves when he pulled the overprotective card.
He sank down in his chair, silent. Finally, he met her gaze again. His eyes were tired, and for the first time ever, she saw the shadow of age on his face. It scared her. She pushed the thought away and pretended it hadn’t crossed her mind.
“This hits too close to home and you know it.” Sidney opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. “I’m sorry, Sidney. If I’d known what we were dealing with, I would never have sent you down there this morning.”
“I told you, I’m fine.”
“Liar.”
Sidney straightened her shoulders. “I can do this.”
The lines at the edges of his eyes deepened. He pinned her with his dark gray stare while he considered her words. Finally, he gave a curt nod toward the door. “Get Williams.”
She called in her partner and the chief addressed them both. “Where are you guys on that missing chimera? His wife’s called twice this week.”
“No leads. It’s like he just disappeared into thin air,” Sidney said.
“Nobody disappears into thin air. There’s always an explanation.”
“That wife of his is pretty annoying. You sure he didn’t go out for milk and not come back?” Williams asked.
The chief threw his pen at Williams who ducked, causing it to hit the glass wall with a thunk. “You two track down your friend Renny. The way he gets around, he might have seen or heard something about this incident last night. I’ll give Dimitrius a call. Maybe he can give us some insight on what these things might be.”
“You got it, Chief,” Williams said.
“And be careful,” Mitch warned.
“Yes, sir.”
She followed her partner out, leaving the sound of the electric razor buzzing behind them.
Three
The afternoon sun played hide-and-seek with the pedestrians of Canal Street. It emerged from behind a cloud and brightened the street long enough for them to glance up with hopeful faces before it disappeared again. The agents didn’t have a specific way of getting in touch with Renny—he always seemed to know when they were looking for him. If they waited in one spot long enough he usually showed up.
They decided to grab lunch from a food truck and hang out in the Jeep for a stakeout.
“I love how casual the chief is about calling up one of the most powerful dudes in the world. Like they’re BFFs.” Williams spoke with his mouth full.
“No biggie,” he continued. “I’m on a first name basis with the Queen of England. She likes it when I call her Betsy. Bono and I are buds too, but I wouldn’t want to bug him. He’s on tour.”
Sidney didn’t respond.
He elbowed her. “Oh, come on, that’s funny.”
“Huh? Yeah, good one.” Sidney stared down at her food, not able to summon an appetite.
Mitch was right, and it annoyed her when he was right. She shouldn’t be anywhere near this case. Somewhere in the FBI archives was an unresolved file containing photos of her parents in a similar state as that victim in the subway this morning, minus the fangs and fur. Torn to pieces in their own bedroom one night with no explanation other than Sidney’s recurring nightmares. In the past three years since Mitch had recruited her to the agency, she’d seen a lot of scary shit, but none of it left the blood chilled in her veins like this did.
“What’s with you today? It’s shawarma. You love shawarma. Why are you staring at it like it might snarf you down?”
The idea of being eaten made her fold the foil over her pita and hand it over. “You want it?”
He took it and started in. “Is it the body this morning? Because that shizz is going to give me nightmares and my parents weren’t even—”
She cut him off with a sharp stare.
“So, is Renny a creepy dude or what?” He changed the subject. “There’s something off about him, right? Do you think he lives in the subway? Maybe he’s part Mole Man.”
“You think everyone’s a Mole Man.” Somewhere amongst the queasiness of fear was an undertow of excitement tugging at the edge of her conscience. After twelve long years of wondering, maybe this was finally her chance to uncover the truth about what happened to her parents.
“I forgot to tell you.” Williams swallowed the last bite of her food before he continued. “Megan wants us to double next week. There’s some guy she wants to introduce you to. A friend of a cousin or something. I wasn’t really listening.”
“No, thanks.” Sidney took a swig of her bottled water.
“Please? She won’t get off my back about it.”
“Not happening.”
“This one’s some kind of doctor. Megan says it’s perfect. He’d work. You’d work. You guys would never actually have to see each other.”
She gave in to a smile. That sounded like something Megan would say. The leggy redhead never had trouble getting a date in her life. Williams was a total dork. They were an adorable cliché, the supermodel falling for the nerd. Together, with their two little girls, they were the perfect portrait of Upper West Side bliss.
It wasn’t as if Sidney had a hard time getting a date for herself. More like, she never wanted one. Giving up clubbing meant giving up on fucking whoever she happened to wind up with at the end of the night. Just like the drugs and drinking, random dicks were no longer an escape route. She definitely didn’t want to hook up with any of Megan’s long lost frat boyfriends.
Now it was important to her to get to know someone before she got serious with them. The catch was that throwing herself into the job made getting to
know any outsiders nearly impossible. Her occasional flings with the chief were enough to satisfy her. And he was mature enough that they could keep things professional without the mess of a relationship getting in the way.
It was nice to have someone she could trust and have fun in bed with. Love meant loss. The death of her parents had taught her that. Falling in love, having any kind of serious relationship with anyone was a risk too big for Sidney to take.
“At least tell her I asked, so she doesn’t think I forgot.” Williams leaned forward and squinted through the bug streaked windshield. “Hey, is that Renny?”
She sat up a little and spotted a familiar, greasy head of hair bobbing through the crowd. “Let’s go.”
She got out of the car and kicked her door shut.
Williams followed.
She maintained focus on the maroon jacket flapping in the light breeze. Renny kept his head down, but his nervous gaze darted from side to side like tiny black beetles in his eye sockets. She stayed in his direct path, hoping she could intercept him before he was even aware of her presence.
The man had a tendency to be skittish.
Almost as soon as the thought flitted through her mind, he lifted his face and saw her. Renny froze in the middle of the sidewalk. He held his hands up in front of him, palms out toward Sidney like a traffic cop signaling her to stop. He turned on the heel of his worn-out sneakers and headed in the opposite direction.
Out of her peripheral vision, she made note of Williams, working his way up to the corner in case Renny decided to run for it. She jogged to catch up with Renny and fell in step beside him.
“No, no. I have no time. No time for talking.” Renny had a thick accent, something Eastern European.
“We’ll make it quick. Have you eaten?”
The small man curled further inside his Members Only jacket as if he could disappear. It smelled like it hadn’t been in a washing machine since 1982.