She nodded, knowing that they’d have to have a deeper discussion about their partnership later. She started to enter the house when his hand on her arm stopped her. “Would you mind explaining your process to me as you go? I would like to get a better feel for how you work.”
“I’ll do my best, but it can be hard to explain sometimes. I don’t always follow a logical or linear path. I can’t always explain why I notice or do something.”
He nodded and motioned for her to proceed him. She sighed, knowing that this would be difficult, but quickly pushed the thought aside. Someone had been murdered; she could deal with her personal feelings later.
Stepping into the foyer, she scanned it quickly. “Bachelor residence.”
“How do you figure that?”
She motioned to the partially open coat closet. “Only men’s coats in there. A few pairs of polished work shoes, indicating that he most likely held a desk job and that he takes off his shoes when at home. There are no women’s garments or shoes in the closet.
“While not conclusive, look at the hallway walls. A woman likes to make a space her own, to add her own unique touch. Other than that generic landscape, there’s nothing. If the owner was in a relationship but not living together, there would still be signs of a woman’s presence. A scarf hanging forgotten on the coat rack, a vase of flowers on the entry table, something. There’s nothing here.”
“What’s the importance of him taking off his shoes here?”
“It means that he feels secure here, that he doesn’t anticipate any need to have to leave the house hastily. He feels he’ll have adequate time to come to this closet, select a pair of shoes and coat, and then head out. No rush, no hurry. He’s probably very organized and in complete control of his schedule.”
“Why does this matter?”
“Because random doesn’t fit in this man’s life. The chances of him actually knowing who murdered him just increased drastically.”
“And you know this just by glancing at a coat closet?”
She shrugged, uncomfortable. “I just have a gut feeling. I work mainly by intuition and observation. That’s why I tend to investigate theft and fraud. This is my first murder.”
This surprised him. “This is your first murder?” She nodded. He relaxed his stance, hoping to put her more at ease. “Just do what you normally do; don’t worry about me. Do my questions distract you?”
Aletta thought about it for a moment before shaking her head. “So far, they’ve helped me sort through exactly what it is I’m seeing. I’ll let you know if I need you to be quiet, Lirim. That work?”
He nodded and motioned for her to continue down the hallway. She walked to where an officer was waiting in front of a closed door. Pulling out their badges, they showed them to the policeman, who examined the badges briefly before stepping aside to allow them entry.
The first thing Aletta noticed was the absolute chaos of the room. It was trashed, objects broken and scattered across the room. The second was the blood, the source of the coppery tang that had greeted her at the front door. Nodding at the techs processing the scene, she cautiously made her way over to where the body still lay.
Crouching next to it, she had to swallow the urge to throw up. His hadn’t been a kind death. Taking a shallow breath, she forced herself to focus on the details instead of the fact that she was right next to a dead person. Leaning closer but being careful not to touch him, she examined his wounds. It was strange. They almost looked animalistic, like an animal had attacked him instead of a person. A cold sensation ran down her spine and she shivered involuntarily. Finished with her examination, Aletta sat back, only to notice that the cold had vanished. Testing an idea, she leaned forward and felt the cold nip her skin again.
Thinking hard, she rose to her feet and slowly surveyed the room. She made her way over to the center of the room, thoroughly inventorying the scene and its contents. She turned toward Lirim, who was waiting patiently by the door, and motioned for him to come over. When he reached her, she asked, “Can you smell that?”
He took a deep breath, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “What exactly am I looking for?”
“I just caught an undertone, almost like pine and a crisp winter breeze. It didn’t seem to fit.”
He took another deep breath and shook his head. “The blood and death in here are too strong for me to get anything else, sorry.”
She shrugged and returned to her scrutiny of the scene. Propping her fist against her mouth, she stared blankly at a wall. After waiting for several minutes, Lirim asked quietly, “Walk me through what you see.”
She blinked and returned to the present. “It happened last night, probably around seven. Late enough that he had time to get home and unwind, eat supper. The neighborhood would also be fairly quiet at this time, families sitting down to dinner and singles out for the evening. His visitor wouldn’t have wanted to attract attention, so he was most likely dressed as middle class so as to not arouse suspicion. Either a human or a super wearing a glamour. My guess would be that he acted like a businessman taking an evening stroll instead of driving here, not wanting his car or person associated with what he was about to do.
“He knocked on the door and our victim opened it after checking carefully through the peephole. After all, he cannot be too cautious. To his surprise, it is someone that he knows, someone non-threatening enough that he felt safe opening his door. He allows them entry and leads them here to the office, so it was probably someone related to his work.”
“Why his work?”
“If it had been a friend or family, he would’ve taken them to the kitchen or living room, one of the inner sanctums of his house. Instead, he takes them to his home office.
“Now remember, it’s seven or so in the evening. Tired from working all day, he wouldn’t have opened the door for just anyone. This is someone he considered important enough that offending them would’ve been a big mistake. By taking the meeting into the office, it was his subtle way of regaining control. It started out amicably enough. There are two whiskey glasses on the desk, indicating that they had a casual drink.”
She scanned the room again. “Then something went wrong. The visitor wanted something that our victim either couldn’t or wouldn’t supply. Words grew heated and the victim lost his temper. Over by the couch there’s a pen snapped in half. He was clutching it so hard that it broke, and he threw the pieces at his visitor when they refused to back off. His visitor then dropped their glamour, trying to force him into complying.”
“You think it was a super?”
“Just a guess, but yes. That scent earlier wasn’t human. Some sort of Fae would be my guess.”
“So what happened next?”
Closing her eyes, she refocused her train of thought. Opening her eyes, she stared at the destroyed couch. “Our victim laughed at him, unafraid. He’s used to dealing with supers every day, so he’s not scared of our perp. So the visitor destroys the couch to show his power, probably in some effortless way.
“He then proceeds to threaten the victim and everything he holds dear. The victim sees red and attacks him, incensed by the threat. A scuffle ensues, during which the pictures were knocked off the walls and the glass doors of his bookcase were broken. However, it is fruitless, and the owner is quickly subdued. He is seriously injured by the scuffle, but still defiant. Again, the visitor demanded whatever it was he wanted and again, the victim refused.”
She paused and examined the room once more before continuing. “This was the last straw and the attacker either shifted or summoned something and ripped him to shreds. My bet is that he summoned something. There’s a cold feeling around the body, something almost unearthly. Whatever it was that he was after, he didn’t get it. Frustrated, he destroyed the plaque on the wall before leaving.”
One of the techs was staring at her, open mouthed. “How would you know when the plaque was destroyed?”
“The blood splatter. The spot on the wall where the plaq
ue hung is clean of blood despite the spots on the wall around it, indicating that it was destroyed after our victim was dead.” The tech nodded and returned to processing the scene.
Lirim asked quietly, “How do you know he didn’t get what he wanted?”
“Despite the state of the room, there’s no sign of a search for anything. Everything is still in its right place. I think that our murderer came here wanting the victim to do something for him, not for something that the victim had. I bet the rest of the house is untouched as well. Our murderer appears to be very well-controlled. Other than the destruction of the plaque, there are no signs of temper or haste. This was definitely a premeditated crime.”
She rubbed absently at her temple, feeling the beginning of a headache forming.
Noting this, Lirim spoke. “All right. Why don’t you head outside? I need to ask the officers some questions and then we can go investigate his work.” She nodded, and he was surprised at the lack of fight from her. She shrugged irritably at him and made her way outside.
Making her way to the street, she leaned against the car and tipped her face up. Closing her eyes, she savored the warmth of the sun on her skin, its heat helping to chase away the chill that she’d felt since she’d entered the house. Slowly breathing in and out, she allowed her mind to clear and the disturbing images from the scene to fade away. The fresh air helped settle her stomach and she felt the muscles in her shoulders start to relax.
Roughly five minutes passed before Lirim came outside. She straightened when she saw him, and he nodded to her. Relieved that she wouldn’t have to go back in, she gratefully climbed into the car.
He got into the car and glanced at her before starting the car. He asked quietly, “You okay?”
She nodded, rubbing her temple wearily. “I’m good but I need to eat. Otherwise, this headache is going to become a full-grown migraine and I’ll be useless for the rest of the day.”
Switching lanes, Lirim asked, “Sandwiches ok? I know a great little café nearby.”
“That’s fine. What did the officers have to say?”
“You were right. Vic’s name is Jeremy Brown. Worked at the First National Bank. He was a fairly high-level manager. Single, lived alone, no pets. The rest of the house was untouched. None of the neighbors noticed anything, although one said that they thought they remembered seeing someone taking a walk through the neighborhood. She can’t remember anything definitive about that person. I doubt that forensics will find anything either. The perp was too well prepared.”
She nodded thoughtfully, “Alright, next step is to talk with his work. We can look at the file over lunch and then head to the bank.” She groaned, and he looked at her questioningly. “It’s going to be a long afternoon. Bankers hate to talk to law enforcement. They’ll make us wait forever.”
Lirim just chuckled at her disgusted face.
Two
Aletta sighed happily as she polished off the last of her fries. “You were right, this place is great!”
He grinned, finding her happiness contagious. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Ready to go corner some bankers?”
Glancing around the quiet café, she shook her head. It had been a nice lunch, full of light hearted banter. She hated to ruin the good mood but knew that they needed to get things out into the open. “We need to talk and the sooner we get it out of the way, the better.” She watched as Lirim straightened, his expression guarded.
She chose her words carefully. “I need to explain a few things and I believe that we have to be honest with each other if this partnership is going to work.”
He just nodded, not saying anything.
She swallowed a sigh, knowing that she would have to go first. She thought randomly that she’d sighed more since she’d met Lirim then she had in the past year. “I don’t want a partner. It has nothing to do with the fact that you are a super or that you are a man. It’s just…” She clenched her fist, struggling to find the right words. If she allowed him to see her vulnerability, she would possibly be handing him the very tool he could use to crush her with. But the part of her that she trusted implicitly insisted that complete honesty was necessary if they were to move forward and solve this case. “I need to prove myself, to the captain, the department, and most of all, to myself. I’ve worked so hard to get here, to become part of HSI. And because of one stupid incident, the department has decided that I’m incompetent. That I need a babysitter to keep me out of danger and trouble. That I’m a fragile human female who’s in over my head. I’ve worked too hard to be sidelined as a liability.” She reined herself in before she said something that she’d regret.
Lirim stared at her for a moment before saying slowly, “So let me make sure that I understand what you’re saying. You have no problem with me being a supernatural.”
She shook her head. “Some of my best friends are supers. I try to take people on an individual basis, not on whether or not they’re human or supernatural or some mix of both.”
“And you have no problem with me being male.”
She laughed, “I have two brothers and three male cousins.”
“So the reason that you don’t want a partner is because you believe that Capt. Jones and HSI think you are incapable of taking care of yourself. That you need to have someone keeping an eye on you at all times to prevent something like the ogre incident from happening again.”
She nodded, “Precisely, that’s exactly what I believe.” She was startled when he started laughing, not quiet chuckles, but deep, loud laughter. She scowled at him, not appreciating his hilarity. Here she was being completely honest with him and he was laughing at her. Taking a deep breath, she straightened, feeling her face settle into a neutral mask.
* . * . *
Lirim couldn’t help bursting into laughter when he heard Aletta’s reasons for not wanting a partner. It was so ridiculous that he couldn’t help laughing. However, despite his laughter, he didn’t miss the hurt that flashed briefly in her eyes before she carefully controlled her face.
He quickly composed himself, knowing that he was going to have to do some serious damage control. Once he was certain that he could talk without laughing, he met Aletta’s eyes. “You’re wrong about why the captain wants you to have a partner.”
Her eyes were hard, but she merely said, “Oh?”
“Incompetent people don’t make it into HSI in the first place. It takes extraordinary talent and competence to even be noticed by the department in the first place. If, by some monumental chance, someone happens to make it into the department and isn’t truly qualified to be there, they are quickly and quietly shuffled off to another department, not given a guardian.”
He saw her relax the tiniest bit and knew that she was actually listening to what he was saying. She seemed to think over his words for a minute before asking quietly, “So if I didn’t mess up, why are they insisting that I have a partner?”
He answered honestly. “I have never seen anyone do what you did this morning. Walk into a scene and manage to untangle what had happened just through observation and intuition. That is a rare and incredible talent, one that is invaluable to the department. It’s my job to watch your back so you can focus fully on what you need to.”
A light dusting of rose crept onto her cheeks, and she seemed to search his face for sincerity. He met her gaze openly, willing her to find whatever it was she was looking for. Although he’d only known her for a handful of hours, he had the feeling that this partnership held great promise. He was looking forward to seeing how it would turn out.
Seemingly satisfied by whatever she saw, she relaxed back into her seat. “So let me get this straight. The department doesn’t think that I’m a screw-up. Instead, they believe that I’m an asset and assigned you to me so that you can watch my back as I investigate whatever cases the department sends my way.”
He felt a smile tug on the corner of his mouth, relieved that she understood. “Exactly.”
“Why would I need to wat
ch my back?”
And he had relaxed too soon. Tensing up fractionally, he tried to think of how to word his reply so he didn’t give away the fact that she’d been targeted. After seeing her in action, he could understand why Capt. Jones felt that she worked better without knowing the full extent of the situation. “As I’m sure you know, HSI handles the cases that the other departments can’t. When we’re called in, it usually means that there are several factors at work. These factors can and often do get ugly and violent quick. It’s my job to anticipate and prevent this from happening so you can focus on solving what happened.”
She refused to let the matter drop. “But what do you get out of this partnership? Wouldn’t it be better for you to be paired with a more seasoned investigator instead of a rookie?”
He sighed, knowing he was going to have to be completely honest with her. He just wished the subject hadn’t surfaced so soon. “I’m not sure how much you know about the Fae, but I originally come from the Glade.” Aletta nodded her understanding, so he continued.
“I was trained by Altean Longspear, the finest weapons master of the Fae. I was meant to be part of the defense force for the Glade but I had a longing to see the world instead. As soon as I finished my apprenticeship, Master Altean reluctantly gave me permission to leave the Glade and explore the world. I was thrilled; everything was so new and exciting. I’d never felt so alive.”
She searched his face and he glanced away. Aletta murmured, “Something happened.”
He took a deep breath, refocusing on her and letting the memories fade away. “It had been six months since I’d left the Glade. I felt like I was a seasoned traveler and warrior. Now I realize just how young and foolish I was. I managed to get caught up in the Outlier War.”
Her eyes widened, and he nodded grimly. “It was brutal, ugly and nasty. So many people died every single day, and they were not kind or clean deaths. But the other option, to leave those people in that miserable slavery, wasn’t an option at all. I fought for three years before we finally won. Those three years changed me. For a year after the fighting, I just wandered. I was looking for a place to belong, for an elusive peace.”
In Search of Justice Page 2