by Gina LaManna
“We were at this club called Dust in the Silver District. It’s not the greatest area, but the drinks are cheap, the music is loud, and really, Detective, we just liked to dance.”
I nodded for her to continue.
“We stayed out late as I mentioned before. The other girls were drinking and dancing. I don’t drink, but I danced along with them. Just the three of us—we didn’t even need the men, we just liked the music, the crowds, the ambiance.”
The music, crowds, and ambiance seemed claustrophobic and sweaty to me, but I could see from the way Cynthia spoke that something about the very beat, the rhythm, the motion of it all had mesmerized her. Her eyes had a far-off look, and she swayed to some imaginary tune.
“Anyway,” she said. “Now that you mention it, there was this one sort of creepy guy. His name was Damien—he owned the club. I think Lillie might have known him. Or cleaned his house, or something. We were on the VIP list that night, and I just assumed that was the case. But when Damien approached us, it was weird. He kept asking the three of us to come up to his private room, and we kept declining. Like I said, we weren’t there to meet men. We were there as friends, and to dance. We met plenty of men at work.”
She blinked, as if realizing her slip.
I jumped in quickly. “Right, so you declined Damien. Then what?”
“I went to the restroom,” she said. “When I came back, the girls each had a new drink in their hands. I asked where they’d gotten them from, and they both had this sort of dazed look on their faces. I remember it clearly because I thought maybe their drinks were spiked. I took them and dumped them behind the bar. Lillie was pissed at me, but I was sober, and I wasn’t letting them take risks.”
“You’re a good friend. They were lucky to have you.”
“Not really. If they were lucky, I would have saved them.”
“You couldn’t have,” I said. “It’s not your fault.”
She took a shaky breath. “Well, the drinks—they weren’t from Damien because he’d gone all pouty at the rejection, and he already had his tongue down some other chick’s throat. I didn’t get a glimpse of the new guy, but he made an impression on Lillie and Maybelline. They couldn’t stop talking about him all night.”
“What sort of talk?”
“You know, girl talk,” she said. “This guy was handsome and rich, but they kept saying that it wasn’t a romantic thing. They both said this guy acted more like an older brother than someone interested in them which I found odd.”
“Why was it so odd?”
She shrugged. “They were pretty girls, out and about for a night of fun. Usually when a guy buys a woman a drink, it’s because he wants something. And I don’t mean platonic friendship.”
My spine went rigid. None of this was a coincidence. I’d suspected the link between Linsey and the other girls, but now it was so close to being confirmed. I was willing to bet if Matthew and I showed up at Dust and flashed Linsey’s picture around, someone would have seen her there when she was supposed to be at Ms. Margaret’s gala.
Someone was using the club as a recruiting ground. We’d found the club, now we just needed our mystery man or woman. If we could catch him in action, he might very well lead us to the answers we so desperately sought.
“Thank you so much for your time,” I said, standing abruptly. “We really appreciate everything you’ve told us.”
“Did I say something wrong?” Cynthia asked. “I’m sorry, I just tried to remember—”
“Did you see this guy they gushed over?” I asked. “Did they describe him or her, for that matter?”
She shook her head. “You think he’s involved?”
“I don’t know what I think,” I said. “But I know this was helpful. Thank you, Cynthia.”
“Just find her,” she whispered. “Please.”
Chapter 10
“Dust doesn’t open until five,” I told Matthew, once we’d debriefed on Cynthia and made our way back toward the center of the borough. “We have a little time to kill.”
Matthew reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a sheet of paper. “Here are the names and addresses of Lillie’s immediate family members. I have Maybelline’s. We’ll meet at the club at five?”
“Sounds good, boss,” I said. “And remember, I have an obligation tonight at seven. I’ll only have an hour at the club.”
“Noted, Detective.”
We split ways, the silence between us a little uneasy. We had to figure out a way to make this work, I thought. I almost turned around to apologize, but my pride got in the way. Or perhaps, I just didn’t have a good solution, and therefore, I didn’t have anything else to say.
I made my way quickly to the outer edge of the Golden District and found the address listed beneath Lillie’s name on the sheet of paper. She had two younger siblings, a mother, and a father who had outlived her. They all lived in one residence, according to the records Felix had pulled for Matthew.
I hated this part of my job, but it was a necessary evil. The worst part of cop life was announcing a death to the victim’s loved ones. The second worst moment was dredging those loved ones through the victim’s death all over again.
I knocked on the door, already frustrated with the nature of my visit. Not only had this poor family been dragged through three months of not knowing their daughter’s fate, but they’d just been informed of her death.
Now, I was going to poke and prod an already sensitive situation. The chance of them knowing anything useful was next to nothing, but when Matthew led an investigation, he insisted that no stone be left unturned.
I recognized the blond head approaching from the street, feeling a frown curl down my lips as the figure climbed the stairs and stopped next to me. Marcus.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, just as the door opened from inside the apartment.
“Hello?” A woman who looked older than her years stood inside the door to the apartment, her eyes rimmed in red. It had been a few days since the girls’ bodies had been discovered. And while the rest of the world had continued with normal life, this woman had lost a daughter and was clearly suffering. “May I help you?”
“I’m sorry to be here asking questions,” I said, “but I’m Detective DeMarco—”
“—and I’m Detective Marcus Prey,” my colleague said. “I’m here with Detective DeMarco in regard to your daughter’s homicide.”
“But I’ve already discussed this with you all,” she said. “We’ve been over this time and time again. We’re grieving. I don’t care anymore—I don’t care who took her, or why, or where they held her. It’s not bringing my daughter back.”
“No,” I said. “But it might bring a young elf home to her family.”
“Another—” The woman stopped abruptly. Her eyes widened. “Another girl is missing? A third one?”
“Unfortunately.”
“An elf?” She squinted. “From the Golden District?”
“Gilded Row,” Marcus said with perfectly faked concern. “We are working hard to get her back.”
I gritted my teeth, wondering what I’d done in my past life to end up partners—however temporary—with Marcus Prey.
“We are determined to get her back alive,” I promised. “May I come in and ask you a few questions?”
“Well, I suppose,” Lillie’s mother said. “Though I don’t know if I can tell you anything more than what I’ve already told the Sixth Precinct.”
As she turned to lead us into the house, I hissed at Marcus. “What are you doing here?”
“Following up on a hunch,” he said. “Same as you.”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m assigned to follow up on the families of the victims. What about you?”
“I’m partners with the captain!”
“Partners,” he said with a snort. “So that’s what you call it these days.”
I pinned him with a deadly gaze, but I held my tongue because Lillie’s
mother had shown us into a neat living room with mostly white furniture. I took a squashy white armchair while Marcus sprawled on a neat white loveseat. Lillie’s mother stood, her fingers uneasily gripping the back of a large recliner.
“Did you see your daughter’s body, Mrs. Brooks?” I asked gently. “Did the officers explain how your daughter died?”
“My husband identified Lillie,” she said shortly. “He encouraged me not to see her.”
“Did he say why?”
“She was tortured,” Mrs. Brooks said, though her eyes betrayed her with a curious gleam. “Wasn’t she?”
“I’m sorry to say that she was. In a very intense way,” I said. “We believe she was drained of a certain magical ability.”
Mrs. Brooks’s head snapped to attention, her gaze drawn to the ceiling like a bullet. “What sort of magical ability?”
“I’m not sure, but we believe that whoever took her harvested something of hers—a certain power,” I said. “There was a third girl with Lillie and Maybelline when they were taken—”
“Cynthia,” Mrs. Brooks said. “Yes. I met her briefly after Lillie disappeared. I thought maybe she knew something because she was there. But she didn’t.”
“Cynthia said the kidnapper should have taken her too. But they chased after Lillie and let Cynthia go. Do you have any idea why that might have been?”
Mrs. Brooks’s eyes watered. “I don’t know.”
“I think you do, Mrs. Brooks,” I said. “And it might be too late to save your daughter’s life, but it’s not too late for closure. And more importantly, it’s not too late to help save another young woman’s life. Who knows how long this has been going on? Maybe your daughter was the first, and maybe she wasn’t. We suspect she will not be the last.”
“I—” Mrs. Brooks pulled a handkerchief from somewhere. “Please, no.”
“Confirm something for me, then,” I said, reading between the lines. She couldn’t speak. Her eyes darted behind her, as if she feared her husband and children would walk in at any moment. “Lillie was different than your other children. In some way, she was different.”
Mrs. Brooks bit a trembling lip. The hesitation went on for a long while, but eventually, she gave a quick jerk of her head. “Yes, she was.”
“How could you tell?” I asked. “Is there a way to physically see a difference between her and the other elves?”
“Not usually,” Mrs. Brooks said. “This gift occurs only in purebred elves, of course. As soon as one is found, they and their family are placed in appropriate housing in the Golden District. The most powerful ones are given a residence in Gilded Row. It’s a very prestigious thing, this magick. That’s why we have our home, here.”
“Who determines your placement?”
“The council of elders,” she said. “We must file a notice if we suspect we have a gifted child. The elders then perform an investigation to determine if the gift has truly manifested in a child, and to assess how powerful the child might be. Lillie was powerful enough to get us a home in one of the most prestigious subdivisions of the Golden District, but by no means was she strong enough to get us into Gilded Row.”
“What is it?” I asked. “What is this power?”
“I—” The front door opened, startling Mrs. Brooks. “That is all I will say on the subject.”
“The investigation—”
“I don’t know what the investigation entails.” Mrs. Brooks hissed. “I wasn’t privy to it. I don’t understand Lillie’s gifts, except to know that sometimes, it drove her wild. She liked to...well, go dancing and drinking. I think it helped her cope. She fought her talents—I know that much. Now leave before my husband sees you here.”
We were too late for that, however. A tall, wiry elf with two small braids on either side of his face, slid into the room, his face passive.
“Honey,” he said sarcastically. “I’m home. You didn’t tell me we were expecting company.”
“The Sixth Precinct brought by their condolences,” Mrs. Brooks said, gesturing to a bouquet of bright blue puffs of flowers on the table. “They were just leaving.”
Mr. Brooks merely watched Marcus and I as we stood and filed quietly out of the room, like two misbehaving children caught with our hands in the cookie jar. We slipped out of the house, and I felt Mr. Brooks’s eyes on my back even as we climbed down the stairs and onto the street.
When we reached a safe distance away, I whirled on Marcus. “What are you doing here? You could have ruined everything!”
“I knew you were holding out on me,” Marcus said. “You and King are expecting us to share everything we learn with you, but it’s not reciprocated. I thought you were supposed to get fair treatment, DeMarco.”
“Captain King asked me to accompany him today for a look at the Residuals,” I said, thinking that while I had been noticing Residuals all day, it hadn’t exactly been helpful. I’d been nothing more than a regular detective in this investigation so far, so it was possible Marcus had a point. “We’ve been working nonstop since yesterday morning—we have a debrief tomorrow, and I’m sure the captain will fill you in.”
“I’ll be straight with you, DeMarco. I’m looking for a promotion, and I don’t plan on handing it over to you.”
“I’m not looking for a promotion. I’m only looking for Linsey. If a promotion is your first priority, then have at it.”
“You know that’s not what I meant,” he snapped. “You’re gone for a year, then you come back with your same rank and get first choice of cases because you’re canoodling with the boss.”
“That’s not true, and you know it. He only needed my help because I can see Residuals.”
“Whatever you tell yourself to feel better,” Marcus said, easing forward so we were nose to nose. “But let me explain something to you, DeMarco. I stuck around while you ran away from it all. If you think you’re going to come back, hide information from me, and steal my promotion, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m not going to let that happen—are we clear?”
Before I could respond, Marco gave me one final glare, then turned and headed in the opposite direction. I was left standing on the boulevard and reeling from the confrontation, wondering if he was right.
On a certain level, I understood where he was coming from—it was unfair I’d been shifted to the highest priority case on my first day back, but I also hadn’t asked to be placed as Matthew’s partner.
I didn’t have time for mixed-up feelings while Linsey was still missing, so instead, I focused on the case and headed toward Silver Street. The less-than-trendy part of town was full of cheap apartments, working girls on every corner, and convenience stores with boarded up windows. It was certainly not a place I’d expect to find the future princess of Gilded Row spending her nights.
Unless, of course, she was going through a rebellious stage. In that case, this was exactly the place I’d have expected to find Linsey Luca.
I turned over the knowledge I’d learned from the Brooks family as I strolled, scanning the sidewalks, the small shops lining the silver section with curtained off front doors and shadowy whispers filtering through the cracked windows.
I arrived outside of the club fifteen minutes early and found Matthew already waiting for me. He didn’t have much of a story to exchange. Maybelline had only a father alive, and he’d barely kept in touch with his daughter. He’d only found out she’d been missing when the police informed him of her death.
Then it was my turn to fill Matthew in on Mrs. Brooks’s story. The only thing I’d really confirmed was the fact that her daughter had been special. Magically inclined in a secretive sort of way. A way determined by a council of elders.
“The elders must protect these children,” Matthew said thoughtfully. “It appears they prefer to keep these children within the bounds of the Golden District, with the powerful ones having a space on Gilded Row. It’s as much a prison sentence as it is an upgrade in living space.”
I thought of Mrs. Brooks
cowering in the living room when her husband walked into the room, and I had no doubt that Mr. Brooks would not be pleased to know his wife had shared even a little bit of the secret with us.
“Hopefully we’ll find some answers inside,” I said, nodding toward Dust as a bouncer stepped into the shaded alley and kicked open the door. “So far, a secret magical power and this club are the only link we have between all three girls.”
“Then, I suggest we get started,” Matthew said. “Hungry?”
“Ravenous.”
Chapter 11
The club itself didn’t turn into an actual, disco-styled dance floor until nearly midnight. For the first few hours it stood open, Dust was nothing more than a dimly lit bar with a limited food selection.
However, I hadn’t eaten all day, and I’d take the limited food selection over no food at all.
“I’ll take fries,” I informed the tattooed elf who was tapping a pencil against her server’s notepad. The rest of the stuff on the menu looked barely acceptable at best. “Make that lots of fries.”
“I see you’re not dieting for your date tonight,” Matthew said when a mound of fries as big as my head arrived on the table. “That grease is horrible for you.”
I grabbed a fry that was half as long as my forearm and bit into it, closing my eyes and moaning with the pleasure of the hot, crispy bite. When I looked up, Matthew’s fangs had descended, and he had a different sort of hunger written all over his face.
“That’s what I thought,” I said. “Now where’s this Damien?”
“You must be looking for me.” A man appeared at our table then, wearing a smarmy smile and a cheaply made suit. He looked at Matthew first and scowled, then turned his attention to me with a wide grin. “Hey, gorgeous.”
“Hey, slimeball,” I said back. “We’re here on business. Sit down, have a chat.”
Damien wasn’t deterred by my instant dislike. Instead, his lips twitched into a brighter smile as he sat. “A live one. I like it.”