In Search of Justice

by Katie Holmburg

  She entered, catching a coppery tang. “Is she here?”

  Reaching the living room, she found Lirim standing there, a grim expression on his face. “In a sense.”

  She rounded the couch and finally caught sight of the body lying there on the floor. Her face paled and she murmured, “No honor amongst thieves.” Taking a deep breath and holding it, she crouched next to the body and examined it. After a minute, she stood up and moved back a few steps. “How long do you think she’s been dead?”

  “Best guess, she was murdered sometime yesterday. Probably right after she gave police her statement and was sent home from the bank.”

  “Well, she went quickly at least. She was surprised, probably by her colleague. She has no defensive wounds. It looks like he just walked up behind her and slit her throat. She’d probably become a liability.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Just that the killer was right handed. Call it in. I’ll start looking around. My guess is that she partnered with our perp out of greed. She has some sort of habit, probably gambling, considering how healthy she looks. A person like that is a smart kind of stupid. Very calculating. They always think that they can beat the odds. Tend to be very meticulous and detail oriented. She probably kept a secret record of the partnership to use in case things went south. Too bad she never had the chance to use it.”

  He called it in while she started examining the room. She rifled through the bookshelf and desk and came up empty. She quickly searched the other rooms, a small kitchenette, a bedroom, and an unbelievably small bathroom. Still nothing. Growing frustrated and knowing that they were running out of time before the crime scene people arrived, she returned to the entrance of the living room.

  A headache was pounding at the edges of her consciousness, so she closed her eyes, trying to block it out. Taking a deep breath, she cleared her mind of the various thoughts running through her head. Once she managed that, she started mentally reviewing the apartment, keeping her eyes firmly shut. Something in the living room kept tugging at the corner of her mind, trying to draw her attention. Opening her eyes long enough to make sure that she made it around where the body lay, she closed them and walked towards the tugging, keeping her hand out in front of her.

  She stopped when she felt her fingertips brush the wall. Opening her eyes, she found herself standing in front of a painting of a black Dahlia. Reaching out, she lifted it off the wall and flipped it over. There, on the back, was an unmarked CD. Removing it, she carefully hung the picture back up. With a grin, she turned to show it to her partner when her headache suddenly came crashing back in and her world went black.

  * . * . *

  Lirim watched as she worked her way through the apartment, keeping an eye out for any threats while they waited for the crime scene people to arrive. He could almost feel his partner’s growing frustration as she came up empty time and again. He was about to suggest that maybe there was nothing to find when she returned to the main room. The disgruntled look on her face was enough to make him bite his tongue.

  He watched in silence as she stopped and closed her eyes, regulating her breathing. After a minute or two, her expression smoothed out and became almost serene. He was about to speak when she suddenly started walking. She managed to navigate around the body without opening her eyes, although he wasn’t positive about that. Concerned by her odd behavior, he moved behind her in case something happened. To his amazement, she walked straight to the painting of some flower before opening her eyes. When she’d taken it off the wall and flipped it over, he was dumbfounded to see a CD attached to it. She’d turned to show him her find when her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed. Swearing, he leapt forward and caught her before she hit the floor. Laying her down gently, he carefully examined her. Had the CD been trapped with a curse? Calling up his magic, he carefully examined her but found no traces of any spells. Other than a racing heartbeat that was slowing to normal even as he checked it, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary.

  Setting her down for just a moment, he raced to the kitchen and found a towel. Wetting it with cool water, he returned and knelt by her, then ran it over her face and neck. After a couple of minutes, she finally stirred, making him redouble his efforts to wake her. It took a minute, but he felt relief crash through him when her amber eyes met his. She was confused and disoriented, but seemed to be okay.

  “Why am I on the floor?”

  He carefully assisted her to a sitting position, cautious to support all of her weight. “You passed out.”

  She looked startled. “I did? Why?”

  He grumbled half-heartedly, “How should I know? One minute you were fine, then you found that CD and boom, next thing I know, you’re down for the count. I thought it was cursed.”

  She shook her head absently. “It’s not cursed. I can’t believe that I actually found it.”

  A stray thought suddenly entered his mind. It wasn’t possible though, was it? Keeping his tone deliberately conversational, he asked, “How did you find it? I know that you were getting frustrated looking.”

  “I was getting a tension headache, so I took a moment and tried to relax. Something about this place was niggling at me and I couldn’t figure out what it was. There was just something tugging at me, something out of place.

  “Sometimes, when I close my eyes and clear my mind, my subconscious can draw me to whatever it was I noticed. This time, it led me to that painting. Clever girl, I should’ve realized that something was hidden there. A black dahlia means warning and betrayal.”

  He probed delicately, “You felt a physical tugging or just a sense that something was wrong?”

  She frowned, thinking it over. “It felt like there was a rope or something tugging me over to the picture, almost like someone was trying to bring me to the evidence. Huh, odd.”

  He was starting to believe that his suspicion was correct, but he wasn’t one hundred percent sure yet. “Do you often get headaches when trying to find things or examining things? You had one yesterday.”

  “Sometimes I do. I think it’s because I think too hard trying to piece things together. Also, it happens if I don’t eat regularly. Skipping lunch today was probably what brought this one on.”

  “You were tested for magic?”

  She eyed him oddly, obviously wondering what he was getting at with his questions. “In fifth grade, as is standard. I registered as null for magic, not even a hint.”

  “Hmmm. Can you stand? I hear the crime scene people.” She nodded and he assisted her to her feet. She swayed but quickly found her balance.

  With an inquisitive glance, she asked quietly, “What’s with all the questions?”

  He then made the mistake of saying what he was thinking aloud. “I think that you should give up the case.”

  * . * . *

  The sound of arguing drew the attention of the whole office. They were stunned to see Aletta storm into the room, Lirim hot on her heels. Both of them were arguing at the top of their lungs, ignoring their startled audience. The agents gaped at the two. They’d never seen the reserved rookie so worked up before and Bosk had definitely never engaged in a yelling match. In fact, one of the things that his partners had complained about was the fact that he was always so cold and emotionless.

  Lirim could hear the whispers and speculation of his fellow agents but ignored it, too busy dealing with Aletta. To say that she’d taken his suggestion badly was a gross understatement. When he had told her that she should quit the case, she stared at him, shocked. This lasted for precisely ten seconds before the shouting began. He’d tried to reason with her, but she wasn’t giving an inch to his carefully worded explanations of why she needed to step back. Instead, it had devolved into a childish exchange of insults and accusations.

  Seeing Cyrus approach, his expression torn between amusement and concern, he saw his way out. “Tala, come here.”

  She whirled around from where she’d been ignoring him and hissed, “Don’t yo
u dare bring Cy into this!”

  He shot back, “I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t acting like a child.”

  She fumed, “You inconsiderate, pompous boor! How dare you…”

  Cyrus moved up right behind her and spoke, cutting her off mid-tirade. “Bosk?”

  “Can you take her to the infirmary? She passed out today at the second crime scene. I need to talk to the captain and she’s obviously not listening to me right now anyway.”

  A concerned growl rumbled in his throat and he gently grasped her arm, drawing her towards the infirmary. Lirim watched with a spark of amusement as she dug her heels in. “I’m fine, I don’t need to go to the infirmary.”

  Cyrus looked in her eyes and asked, “Did you faint?”

  She looked away but grudgingly admitted, “Yes, but….”

  “No buts. You’re going to the infirmary now, even if I have to carry you.”

  She acquiesced with ill grace and they left the room. Right as they turned the corner out of sight, Lirim heard her start complaining about him and how unreasonable he was being. He sighed and let out an exasperated chuckle.

  Straightening his shoulders, he stormed over to where Cara was sitting. “Is he available?”

  She smiled and stood, “Yes, just let me announce you.”

  He swept past her. “Don’t bother, I’ll let myself in. Hold his calls, this is important.” Lirim stepped into the room and closed the door firmly behind him, shutting off his view of her shocked face. The captain looked up from the papers he was reading, impatience clear on his face. He barked, “What’s the meaning of this, Bosk?”

  Lirim flicked his fingers, sending the strongest shielding spell he knew out to cover the room. He saw Jones straighten, obviously realizing that this was serious. Satisfied that no one would be able to overhear their conversation, Lirim demanded, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Jones frowned. “Why didn’t I tell you what?”

  He stalked over to stand in front of the desk. “Why didn’t you tell me what she was? I can’t protect her if I don’t know all the details.”

  “I told you what she was, a human female with a knack for picking apart crime scenes.”

  “No, she’s not.”

  He could feel Jones clinging to control by his fingertips. “All right, tell me what you think she is?”

  “She’s a seeker, a truthfinder, a path maker, a guide.” None of these seemed to clarify it for the captain. He shoved his hand through his hair as he tried to remember the correct term. “She’s a Sheridan.”

  The captain’s eyes widened as the pieces finally clicked. “You’re certain of this?”

  “All the signs are there.”

  “But none of the people that worked with her ever mentioned her using magic.”

  “She is very subtle about it. I doubt she even realizes it herself. If I didn’t know the signs well, I probably wouldn’t have recognized it either. As you know, my aunt is one, much like Agent,” he paused, then finished. “Sheridan.”

  All of a sudden, he started laughing. Dropping into a chair, he shook with laughter. “It was there, looking us in the face all along. Her last name even proclaims it. I can’t believe I didn’t notice that.”

  Capt. Jones rubbed his face wearily and sighed. “Well, this is both welcome and unwelcome news. Sheridans are so rare and incredibly valuable. There are only three known in the world right now, including your aunt. At least three of any usable power. There are maybe a dozen that register as having Sheridan potential but have barely any magic to draw from. And Sheridans don’t come from any one race, but occur in the most random of places.”

  Lirim said thoughtfully, “She said that she tested as null on her fifth grade test. Why is being a Sheridan a bad thing?”

  “They are fiercely sought after for their talents. If they were mercenary minded, they could be rich beyond belief. If they are ethical, then people will try to force them to work for them in less savory ways. Having a Sheridan in this department would be a Godsend, but I can’t subject Agent Sheridan to that kind of pressure.” He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to figure out a way out of his current dilemma.

  “Could we maybe pass her off as something else, a nearly null Veritas maybe?”

  The captain mulled it over for a minute. “That might actually work. They share many of the same characteristics and Veritas are much more common. They often find themselves drawn to some sort of law work, so it wouldn’t be a surprise that she found herself in HSI, even as a nearly-null. That could even help to explain her talent at uncovering things. Yes, it just might work.”

  Lirim straightened in the chair, his mind busily turning over different courses of action. A thought occurred to him “Do you think whoever was behind the ogre attack knew that she was a Sheridan?”

  Jones shook his head immediately, “No, I think that she’s interfering with someone’s plans. Someone out there is planning something big. The fact that no one has caught wind of more than vague rumblings tells me that it’s something huge. They want to get rid of her because she keeps inadvertently derailing some part of their plan. She has a knack for uncovering things. It’s becoming increasingly obvious that someone wants to keep those things hidden.”

  Sighing, he admitted, “I told her that I think she should drop the case.”

  Jones roared with laughter. “You didn’t.” Lirim nodded, his own lips twitching reluctantly.

  “I bet your ears are still ringing. She’s stubborn. Did three weeks of desk work rather than accede to having a partner. I don’t doubt that if there hadn’t been a murder, she’d still be on desk duty. Still, she’s a loyal thing. She might box your ears for being an idiot, but she said she’d partner with you for this case and she’ll abide by that.”

  Lirim asked dryly, “And after that?”

  “Well, if you manage to refrain from any more... ill-thought suggestions, you might just gain a partner– if that’s what you want.”

  Lirim admitted, “She’s been tolerable to work with, till she started yelling. Still, it’s worth a try.”

  “Well, go fetch her from wherever it was you left her. We need to inform her of what she is and discuss how to proceed from here.”

  Lirim scowled and Jones chuckled. “You made her mad; you’re the one who has to deal with it.”

  Sighing, Lirim stood and headed towards the door, wondering how on earth he was supposed to calm down his irate partner.

  * . * . *

  Aletta was back at her desk, having been cleared by the healer in record time. She’d complained about going, but she would’ve gone anyway just to put Lirim and Cy’s minds at ease. Well, Cy’s, at least. Lirim was on her list of people she was not speaking to at the moment. Rearranging the case file in a different order in hopes of seeing something new, she absently glanced up at the captain’s door. What was taking Lirim so long? She scowled. He was probably convincing Jones to pull her off of the case right now.

  She would’ve vented her ire at the idea to Cy, but he’d turned tail and fled as soon as she’d gotten back to her desk. Sure, it was under the pretense of taking the CD she’d found to Ian, after thoroughly scolding her for interfering with a crime scene, but she knew it was to escape her complaining and get some quiet. She snorted. Big, bad Lycan fleeing after maybe ten minutes with an angry female. She’d tease him about it sometime, after she regained her usual good humor, that is.

  Seeing Lirim emerge from the office, she turned her attention back to the case file, deliberately snubbing him. Yelling hadn’t seemed to dent his resolve; maybe the silent treatment would get his foolishness through to him. It was worth a try, anyway and she knew the supers in the department would appreciate the lack of noise. She’d seen several wince when she’d hit a particular pitch earlier.

  Keeping track of him from the corner of her eye, not that she’d ever admit it aloud, she watched as he headed for his desk. He opened a drawer and fished around for a moment before grabbing something and mak
ing a beeline for her desk. He stopped in front of her desk and waited patiently for her to look up. Torn between ignoring him and telling him to get lost, she looked up, only to find a candy bar extended towards her. He smiled winningly and said, “Truce?”

  She eyed him suspiciously, glancing between his face and the candy bar. His expression seemed to be sincere, (and it was her favorite candy bar, the rich, dark chocolate one that carried just a hint of cherries), so she decided to let him off the hook just this once. Taking the candy bar, she nodded. “Truce.”

  She narrowed her eyes warningly. “However, try to take me off the case again and all the candy bars in the world won’t save you, understand?”

  “The captain needs to talk with us.”

  Resigned (it was only to be expected after the ruckus they had made earlier), she carefully stowed the candy bar in her desk with a promise to herself to grab it later. Standing, she motioned for him to lead the way. Following him into Capt. Jones office, her mind spun rapidly. After insisting that she take the case, she didn’t think that he would pull her off of it, unless Lirim had been extremely eloquent. However, given their somewhat shaky truce, she didn’t think that that was what had happened. Had she messed up somewhere? Yes, the killer had gotten a hit on her, but she’d almost shot him in return.

  She groaned inaudibly. That was probably it; he was probably going to take away her gun because she had recklessly fired it on a public thoroughfare.

  Taking the seat that the captain indicated, she decided to take whatever happened with as much grace as she could possibly muster. She was startled when she saw Lirim throw up a sound barrier.

  Now what in the world was going on? She didn’t think that Jones would need a sound barrier to relieve her of her gun. Becoming completely focused, she questioned softly, “Sir?”

  “How much do you know about truthseekers?”

  “Um…” She dug through her brain trying to remember what she knew. “They’re exceptionally rare, only a handful in each generation. They are highly sought after for their skills in uncovering things, whether it be truth, objects, or people. They share several characteristics with Veritas, but tend to be vastly more powerful, the ones that fully come into their power that is. At any given time, there are two to three dozen people with Sheridan potential, but for most it never manifests. That’s about all I know.”