Collateral Damage_A Tethered Novel

by Jessica Wayne

  “No! Please stop! Please stop!” she screamed, but Malcolm simply smiled. She collapsed onto the ground, and he shoved her arm back through the bars.

  “Rest up my dear. I’m going to need more when this runs dry.” He walked away leaving Paislee unconscious and powerless.

  * * *

  Malcolm stepped into his office with a smile on his face. Lindsay waited for him next to the roaring fire, and she ran towards him to get a look at the necklace. Power swam inside the garnet, illuminating it from the inside and she giggled.

  “That is gorgeous!” Lindsay exclaimed. “Try it on baby, how do you make it work?”

  He clipped the necklace around his neck and felt as the power began to hum against his body. He closed his eyes and willed the magic from the necklace to seep into his body, and as it did, he felt every single nerve as if they were only now coming to life.

  He opened his eyes, and Lindsay jumped back. Curious, he took a look at himself in the mirror and grinned. His eyes, which had once been a simple brown, now blazed like twin flames.

  From his studies, he knew that Paislee was probably a light mage, meaning she could conjure light in all its forms and aid in the healing process. But as her power surged through his veins, he felt more and wondered if he hadn’t missed something. Was it possible she was more than a normal witch? He closed his eyes and imagined a flame sitting in his palm. When he opened them, he stared down at the fire dancing in his palm, when he sent it flying towards the dartboard hanging on his wall, it disintegrated, and he grinned madly. He knew she was special!

  “Malcolm, you are amazing.” Lindsay stared at him, wide-eyed and he took a step towards her.

  “I am power,” he said simply and smiled.

  “Shall we start phase two?”

  “Yes.” He removed the garnet and put it in his pocket. Since he still wasn’t quite sure how to handle the magic, he didn’t want to risk blowing up his house with it. He knew from watching Paislee grow up, it could be fairly volatile. “We are going to need to do something about Timothy McGinley.”

  “You think he’s going to be a problem? We saw today he isn’t immortal like we thought.”

  “Maybe not, but he still poses a threat. Especially if he comes for Paislee.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Let’s send him a message.”

  Chapter 12

  Timothy stood at the window as the sun rose over the sky. How many times had he done just that? He wondered. How many sleepless nights had he waited patiently for the light to return to his world?

  But even though the sun always returned, he had never felt as though his world would be bright again. Not until Paislee showed up. He wasn’t sure when it had happened but having her here had given him something to look forward to each day. How was it that she hadn’t been with him long and he already felt lost without her?

  Her smile, the rare laugh, the way her fingers sparked when she got mad. It was all of that and more. Had he fallen for her? Or was she just a close friend he’d become accustomed to seeing every day?

  He took a drink from his coffee and watched the orange and yellow streak across the skies. It really was a beautiful sight to behold, but he could see nothing except the start of a day without Paislee in it.

  He set the mug down on his desk and sat back behind his laptop to go over what they knew about Malcolm Gentry- which as it turned out, was very little. The man managed to stay nearly completely off the radar.

  There were no photos of him, no history of any article written about his company aside from a simple website boasting he was the best in the restoration business. As far as the world was concerned, Malcolm Gentry didn’t exist.

  But he did in fact exist. And Timothy was going to kill him. Perhaps then the world would have something to say about him.

  The elevator doors opened, and a grim-faced Ashton stepped inside.

  “Anything?” Timothy asked.

  “Possibly.”

  “What is it?”

  “If this is true, it could prove deadly to Paislee.”

  “What is it?” Timothy repeated, irritated.

  Ashton set the papers down on Timothy’s desk. “There is a record of a Jasper Anderson who worked as a museum curator for a museum here in Boston. They had, very briefly, a garnet necklace in their possession.” He opened the folder and Timothy took in the beauty of the necklace.

  Based on design, he estimated it would date back to early 1200’s. The solid garnet was flawless and surrounded by diamonds of the same quality.

  Ashton continued, “This necklace was rumored to be magical, and because of the power it possessed, it was nicknamed mortem auguratricis.”

  “Death Sorceress?” His face paled, surely a necklace didn’t hold that type of power. But then again, he hadn’t believed a dagger could trap the souls of its victims, and he’d been wrong on that one.

  “It is said to have the ability to drain and hold magic, which can then be used by the wearer.”

  “Wait, so this necklace can pull magic from a witch, and transfer it to someone non-magical?”

  Ashton nodded. “That’s not all.” He opened the folder to a photograph, and Timothy found himself staring down at a very young Malcolm Gentry. “Jasper Anderson worked alongside a man by the name of Gage Adams.” He turned the page again, and a photo of Paislee and her father stood out from the page. “Gage Adams was a security guard, and Paislee would go to work with him at times.”

  Everything began coming together in Timothy’s mind, and he stood to pace. “If somehow, Malcolm had seen the effect the necklace had on her, he would have known she was a witch. There’s no way a priceless item like that goes unnoticed by a curator, he had to have known the background of the gem. Which would mean targeting Zeke and Paislee hadn’t been a coincidence. She’d been picked when she’d been young. How long did her father work there?”

  “The necklace went missing in 2001 and shortly after Adams was fired. Apparently, Mr. Anderson swore he saw the guard take the necklace but since no evidence was discovered, Adams wasn’t jailed.”

  “So, he gets fired in 2001, Paislee would have been what nine at the time? When does Jasper Anderson fall off the grid?”

  “2002.”

  “So, he changes his name and starts building another life. A year later, Paislee’s parents die in a car accident, and Zeke returns home from college. Probably not something Gentry had been counting on, but he makes use of Zeke by manipulating him into selling drugs and then eventually using. All of this had to be, so he could get to Paislee. Fuck, I wish we could talk to her brother.”

  Zeke would be absolutely no help right now seeing that he was probably in the throes of his detox. Hallucinations, shaking, and outbursts of anger would do little to help their current situation. Besides, chances were, nothing her brother would be able to tell them right now would get Paislee back.

  “What is our next move?”

  “I have a guy watching the house. If Gentry is, in fact, using this necklace, he will be a much worse enemy than we’ve given him credit for. We need to know exactly what we’re walking into before we go. Otherwise we aren’t going to be any help to her.”

  “We can’t wait, Ashton, if he kills her-”

  Ashton put his hand on Timothy’s shoulder, “He needs her, but if we go in there guns blazing and die in the process, there is no one, and I mean no one who will be able to help her then.”

  Timothy knew Ashton was right, but the fact that Paislee was laying somewhere, probably in pain, was nearly too much for him to bear.

  “We’re coming, Paislee,” he whispered. “Hang on.”

  * * *

  Paislee struggled to open her eyes. She was laying on something hard, and her head felt as though someone had driven a spike through it. The pain itself wasn’t unusual for her, after using a ton of magic like when she’d healed Timothy, she’d woken with a headache. But she knew something was off, she just couldn’t remember what.
>
  When she pushed herself up and managed to open her eyes, she remembered. She was still lying near the bars, the same bars that Malcolm had used to shield himself while he stole her magic.

  There was a significant amount of blood on the floor probably from her nose and ears since both tended to bleed after a blast like the one from last night.

  She crawled over to her mattress. She no longer felt her weapon, so she imagined it had fallen out some time during the assault and he had taken it.

  Tears stung in her eyes as the realization set in. She was going to be used as a pool of magic which was somehow much more personal than when he had simply been using her to intimidate or carry out a punishment.

  Now, he would be stealing her power, stripping away a part of her for his own pleasure. It was sick, twisted, and she was completely powerless to deny him.

  Where was Timothy? She wondered. He had seen her get taken and she’d witnessed the fury on his face for an instant when she’d been grabbed. Would he come looking for her?

  A fleeting glimmer of hope passed through her at the thought of a rescue effort. Was it possible that he actually cared for her?

  Malcolm now knew Timothy wasn’t immortal so would he stop going after him? Did this mean that perhaps Timothy wasn’t coming? That he would just go back to his life the way, he had before she found him in that alley?

  She looked out her barred window as the sun began to rise as the hope she’d been feeling bled out of her. Why would he come for her? He’d called her childish and had told her repeatedly that the second he had taken care of the threat from Malcolm, she would be free to go.

  Well, the threat was gone now, so what did that mean for her? Of course, she already knew the answer. She was going to die in this prison, alone, cold, and empty.

  * * *

  “Morning, Mr. McGinley,” Jake greeted Timothy just as he was getting off the elevator and onto the fourth floor.

  “Morning. What do we have this morning?”

  “I just got here, so I haven’t had a chance to check out the new stuff, but the roster says a delivery came in that contained a couple crates from China.”

  Timothy nodded and tried to go about his day as usual. Nothing could seem amiss from the outside, and there was nothing he could do for Paislee until Ashton had more intel to go off of. So, the best he could do was bury himself in work and hope that at any moment Ashton would call him with an update.

  “So, have you heard from Paislee?” Jake asked awkwardly as they made their way to the back near the service elevator. The delivery men typically stacked the crates right outside the large elevator since they didn’t care to take the extra time to actually put them where they belonged.

  “No,” he responded curtly. How is it that Jake still didn’t get he had no interest in discussing her with him?

  “Oh, well, hopefully, she’s alright.”

  “She’s fine,” Timothy snapped. They reached the crates in the back of the room, and sure enough, they were stacked just outside of the elevator.

  Timothy opened the first one and revealed a set of pottery figurines he guessed had been crafted sometime in the early 1300’s. They were fairly well preserved for their age, and after Jake finished taking photos and cataloging the era, he placed them back inside and moved the crate to the ground.

  As he was standing, he noticed a puddle of dark liquid on the ground just under the crate the figures had been sitting on top of.

  His blood iced as he pried open the bottom crate.

  “Is that-” Jake started before passing out cold.

  Timothy had felt anger a lot of times in his life, felt that fury building up inside of him as his world began to turn red. But never in his entire life, had he felt the cold, unfiltered, murderous rage he felt now as he stared down into the lifeless eyes of Jess Crew.

  His body began to shake, somehow, he managed to pull his phone out of his pocket.

  “Get to the fourth floor. Now,” he said before disconnecting the call and throwing his phone. “FUCK!” he screamed and slammed his fist into the nearest wall. The sheetrock gave out below him, and he did his best to not completely destroy everything around him.

  She was covered in blood from a slice at her throat, her eyes frozen open in fear that told him she’d known it was coming.

  She hadn’t been wearing what he’d seen her in yesterday, but instead was dressed as if she’d been on a date. Was that how the bastard had gotten her? Had he tricked Timothy’s lovesick secretary into thinking she’d met someone who might care for her?

  He had liked Jess, other than Ashton she had been his favorite person on staff. She was sweet, caring, and had even brought him chicken soup once when she’d thought he’d been sick.

  She’d been a kind woman, who had deserved a happy ending and now she lay lifeless in a shipping crate.

  Ashton and his men came rushing in, and Timothy barely noticed until they were practically on top of him.

  “Oh, my God,” Ashton’s voice was shaky, and Timothy could hear the pain reflected in his tone. “Get me security tapes now!” he ordered one of his men. “Get me Holt. He was on duty when these arrived.” Ashton turned to Timothy and tried to hide the grief he was feeling.

  “Jake pass out?”

  Timothy nodded.

  “Get him out of here,” Ashton ordered one of the men who lifted Jake and carried him away. “We need to call the police.”

  Timothy nodded and stepped back from the crate as Ashton took a couple photos for his own investigation before phoning the police.

  Ashton and Jess had been friends. A friend he had hoped could one day become something more. Her light had been a beacon of happiness for him, and seeing her dead killed a small part of him. He could see on his employers’ face, it had done the same to him.

  “Malcolm did this,” Timothy growled, and Ashton nodded. There was no one else who would have murdered the woman and then stuck her in an antique crate.

  “This was meant as a message,” Ashton commented. “Which means he must know we are planning on coming after Paislee.”

  “But how? How could he possibly know that?”

  “I’m not sure,” Ashton admitted.

  A few minutes that seemed like hours passed before the police showed up. They were ushered in by Ashton’s security team and immediately began taking stock of the grizzly scene before them.

  “Mr. McGinley,” a man in a crisp black suit and a woman in a navy-blue blazer, approached him. “I’m Detective Reilly, and this is Detective Shultz. Can you walk us through what happened this morning?”

  “My employee and I came in to go over a new shipment that came in late last night from China. We went through the first crate, the smaller one that was on top of the one I found Jess in, first. When I moved it, I saw the blood and opened the crate.”

  “The victim was your secretary, correct?”

  “Yes, Jessica Crew.”

  The detective wrote in his notepad. “Anything you can tell us about who might have wanted to hurt her? Or you?”

  Timothy shook his head; Malcolm Gentry was his. No way he would be giving up the man to the police. Not when he wanted to be the one to watch the bastard pay for what he’d done. “I don’t have anyone who comes to mind.”

  “Okay, well if you can think about it and let me know if something comes up.”

  “I will Detective.”

  “Where is your employee? The one who was with you?”

  “Jake Parish. He passed out after seeing her. My security team took him to the break room on the second floor.”

  “Thank you, Mr. McGinley. We are truly sorry for your loss.” Detective Shultz smiled at him warmly and squeezed his arm.

  “Thank you.” He sounded almost robotic, even to himself.

  The coroner came in, and they began removing Jess’s lifeless body from the crate. He bit back the lump of grief in his throat. She had been a great woman, and he would miss her. But the best thing he could do for her was
get revenge for her senseless death.

  Timothy and Ashton made their way up to his office, and Ashton began scanning the room with a device he’d told Timothy could search for any form of transmission that meant someone had been listening to them.

  He found none, so they sat in the sitting area staring at the city through the large windows.

  The sun was slowly sinking, and Timothy realized it was nearly four in the afternoon. Had it really taken the police that long? He wondered. Between the interviews, the search of the rest of the antique room, and the reviewing of the security tapes, they hadn’t turned up anything else.

  The delivery men had been the same two men they always were, and they hadn’t noticed anything strange when they picked up the crates from the airport. Which meant one thing, somehow between the airport and the office, Jess had been killed and placed in that crate for him to find.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. The two men confessed they’d stopped for coffee on the way in, which must have been where they’d added her body to the crate. But how had they known the shipment was coming in? How had Malcolm known the route they would take?

  None of it made any sense. It wasn’t like it was public knowledge, and he could simply search for it on the internet. Had he and Jess gone out before? Had he been grooming her for this exact moment?

  “Do you think it’s possible we have a mole?” Ashton wondered aloud. “Someone that managed to sneak past us in the interview process?”

  Timothy pondered it for a moment, he had personally gone through each employee countless times to make sure they were legitimate. Had he missed something? “Send me a list of all the recent hires. Anyone within the last year.”

  “I’m on it.” Ashton got to his feet but paused before leaving. “We’ll get him, Timothy.”

  He nodded, they absolutely would. One way or another.