Karen Chance, Marjorie M Liu, Yasmine Galenorn, Eileen Wilks

by Inked (lit)

  That brought a smile, however reluctant, to Daly’s freckled face. “Guess not. Listen, Yu…damn, that’s awkward. Your name, I mean.”

  She smiled wryly. “I know. But it provides amusement for so many people—‘Hey, Yu! This is me—is this Yu?’”

  He snorted. “Bet you’ve heard ’em all. I guess I came down a little hard.”

  “Not a problem.” At least she hoped it wouldn’t be. They were connecting better now. “At the moment, Chief, I don’t know if this is my case or not, but it could be. Magic was used on that tattoo.”

  “Well, shit, I guess it would have to be, wouldn’t it? Can’t tattoo a werewolf without magic to make it stick. But the slice to his throat wasn’t magic.”

  “No, but if magic incapacitated him, or prevented that slice from healing—”

  “Is that possible?” He frowned heavily, then glanced at his watch. “I’m supposed to meet with one of my detectives in ten minutes. Going to be late.”

  “I’ll walk out with you. Mr. Wright—”

  “Morton,” he said amiably.

  “Morton, it was good to meet you. I like your philosophy. Chief,” she said as she headed with him toward the door, “what’s your theory about the lack of blood on the body?”

  “Don’t have one, but I’ll be asking my people to account for it. My people.” He snorted again and shoved the door, which opened into a small anteroom almost as cheerless as the morgue itself—cement walls and floor, battered file cabinets, a single desk for Morton Wright. “Don’t mean to make it sound like I’ve got dozens on this case. I don’t have dozens in the whole damned department. I meant the Medical Examiner and the detective who’s got the case. She’s county, of course—the ME—not one of mine, but we’ve worked together a long time now. She’s solid.”

  He’d sure mellowed. “That would be Alicia Chavez, and I agree—she’s solid. She’s got good people under her, too. Do you have an idea when Hilliard was killed?”

  “Tuesday night, probably between eleven and three a.m. That’s unofficial, but it fits with when Hilliard was last seen.”

  “Who saw him last?”

  “Other than the killer, that would be Amos McPherson, over at the Stop-N-Shop. You know Dr. Chavez? I’m taking the stairs,” he added, headed that way. There was an elevator, of course, for the gurneys that carried the bodies to the morgue. It was painfully slow, so she didn’t blame him for avoiding it. “I spend too damned much time at my desk. Need to move when I get the chance. Doctor doesn’t like my blood pressure.”

  “Stairs are fine.” She started up them behind him. “I used to work homicide in San Diego, so I’ve worked with Dr. Chavez and her staff.”

  “So you weren’t always a Fibbie.”

  “No, that’s a fairly recent change.”

  “What did you call Dr. Chavez about?” By the time the chief reached the top of the stairs, he was breathing heavily

  “I needed to let her know to check for gado.”

  He pushed the door open. “Gado?”

  “It’s a possibility. I told her she could send the samples to our lab. No need for the town or the county to cover that expense.”

  “That’s…” He stiffened, his voice trailing off.

  His bulk completely blocked her view. “What is it?”

  He spun around, his face distorted by fury. “You—you—I knew I’d heard your name someplace! Trying to make out like you’re so professional—well, that won’t work now!”

  His face was so red the freckles had disappeared. “Maybe you should calm down. That can’t be good for your blood pressure.”

  She thought he’d explode. “You—”

  Rule’s voice, smooth as silk, came from the other side of the furious man. “Congratulations on that promotion, Pete. Lily’s right. You want to watch your blood pressure. I’d recommend anger management therapy.”

  Daly pulled himself together, but the color stayed high in his face. He didn’t say a word. His hands were fisted at his sides as he marched off down the short hall.

  Rule watched him, a small smile on his mouth, his hands shoved casually in the pockets of his jacket. His eyes were snake-cold.

  The hall they were in seemed to be part of the administrative section. Lily could hear voices from an open doorway at one end; three closed doors studded the hall in the direction Daly took. He marched to a door at that end, jerked it open, and let it slam behind him.

  “Oh, geez,” Lily muttered. “Why didn’t you warn me the two of you had a history? I had him ready to cooperate. Then he saw you.”

  “I said that the cops here weren’t trustworthy. You didn’t ask how I knew.” Rule was still watching the door Daly had used. Slowly his gaze shifted to her. “Five years ago, Pete Daly—he was a detective at the time—tried to beat Steve to death. A difficult task, considering how fast we heal, but he did his best.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Well, he’s a bastard, then, and a disgrace to the uniform, but what did you do to him? Because that isn’t the way a man reacts to someone he despises. Despises would mean he won, and he didn’t. He’s scared shitless of you.”

  “Ah.” Now Rule looked at her, and his smile turned genuine. “Very insightful. To answer your question, I did nothing to Pete. How could I? He was an officer of the law. I was newly and publicly revealed as a lupus. I did nothing to him…over and over and over.”

  She studied him a moment. He was truly relaxed now. Before he’d faked it, posing to look at ease in the presence of his enemy, announcing how little he considered Daly a threat.

  Dominance games. He was good at them. “You stalked him,” she announced.

  His smile widened. “I do love your twisty mind. How did—” A door opened in the short hall and a middle-aged woman glanced at them as she emerged from the office. “Perhaps we should discuss this elsewhere,” Rule murmured and took Lily’s hand.

  “Quit that.” She pulled her hand free. “I can’t wander around holding hands when I’m investigating. You ever see a cop holding hands on duty? Or an FBI agent,” she remembered to add. The woman click-clicked her four-inch heels down the hall toward the door Daly had used. “Come on. Explain while we head to the car. You can start by telling me why you were here waiting for me. Or for Chief Daly?”

  “That’s simple enough. I spoke with Jason’s former supervisor, as I told you I planned to do, but she’s on shift and couldn’t give me much time.”

  “That wasn’t exactly what I asked. I suppose you heard Daly talking to me on the stairs and that gave you time to pose for him. What did you learn from Chance’s former supervisor? Was he or she responsible for him getting fired?”

  Rule opened the door, holding it for her. “No, and they remained friends afterward.”

  The hall opened onto the hospital lobby with a Pink Lady station, tiny gift shop, the main exit, and a couple elevators. “He was fired after coming out as a lupus, you said.”

  “Jason didn’t announce it openly the way Steve did. He simply stopped hiding certain things, such as his visits to Clanhome, and let others draw their own conclusions. They did. He was fired.”

  “He found another job pretty quickly.” He’d moved to San Diego for it, but Rule said he returned to Del Cielo sometimes to see Hilliard, who’d lived here. He’d been here on such a visit when Steve was killed.

  “The nursing shortage,” Rule said dryly, “is acute. His current employers don’t want to know if their suspicions about him are true, and Jason doesn’t speak of Clanhome at work.”

  “Don’t ask, don’t tell.”

  “Pretty much, yes.”

  “I always ask.”

  Rule’s grin flashed. “I know.”

  “Like right now, I’m asking why you brought me to the elevator instead of the exit.”

  He pushed the third-floor button. “So you could speak with Jason’s former supervisor, too. She’s a lovely older woman named Lupe. I thought she might be able to alibi him, and that he, for chivalrous reasons, had fa
iled to mention this to the police.”

  Lily quirked an eyebrow. “She’s that kind of friend?”

  “Unlike you, I don’t always ask. But if their relationship did include intimacy, it would be very like Jason to protect her by concealing that.”

  The elevator door opened. Three people got out; Lily followed Rule on. He usually took elevators even though he hated them. More like because he hated them. They were so small. “You like Jason.”

  “I do.”

  “Since you didn’t open your story with the alibi, I take it there isn’t one.”

  “Unfortunately, no. He did stop by to see her, but he did so here at the hospital, while she was at work. Since it’s believed Steve was killed at night…unless that has changed?”

  “I did get that much confirmed by Daly,” she said, irritated all over again. “Between eleven and three a.m., he said. Getting anything else is going to be like pulling teeth. I’ll pull them, but it won’t be fun. Why do I want to talk to Lupe? And what’s her last name?”

  “Lupe Valdez. You’ll talk to her because she’s Robert Friar’s nearest neighbor.”

  “Robert Friar? The guy who started Humans First?”

  “Yes. She tells me that Chief Daly is a member.”

  4

  LUPE Valdez, the senior charge nurse in orthopedics, was around fifty and maybe twenty pounds overweight, with thin lips, an asymmetric nose, and a weak chin. Even in her shining youth, most people probably wouldn’t have called her lovely.

  But her hair was glorious—thick and black, worn long and pinned up. Her smile was warm, and she moved with the lightness of a dancer. To Rule, she undoubtedly was lovely.

  Lily wondered if Lupe smelled lovely, too. Lupi were a lot more scent-oriented than humans. “Ms. Valdez, I appreciate your willingness to talk with me.” She held out a hand.

  “Lupe,” the woman said, taking Lily’s hand without hesitation and giving a brisk shake. “Call me Lupe. I’m glad if anything I can tell you helps Jason. You want some coffee?”

  They were in the crowded alcove that served as a break room. Lily glanced at the coffeepot, thought it looked reasonably fresh, and decided to take a chance. “Sure. Thanks. Black, please.”

  While Lupe poured two cups, after making sure Rule didn’t want any—he didn’t, coffee snob that he was—Lily sat at a table slightly bigger than a handkerchief and took out her notebook and pen.

  Lupe Valdez had a hint of an accent and more than a hint of a healing Gift. Lily would bet her patients recovered faster than the norm. If she’d managed to find training for her Gift, some of her patients recovered more fully than their doctors expected, too. If she’d found another sort of training, she could have tattooed that design around Steve Hilliard’s neck.

  Rule parked himself against the wall, leaning there with arms crossed. Lily waited until the other woman was sitting across from her to begin. “I understand you and Jason kept in touch after he left town.”

  Her smile was small and private. “You could say that. He always stopped by to see me when he visited Steve…sometimes here, sometimes at home.”

  “But not on the night he was killed.”

  “Unfortunately, no. He dropped by here that day, spoke with me awhile, but I didn’t see him that night.”

  “For the record, I need to know where you were the night of Tuesday, April twenty-eighth.”

  “At home. My daughter was home, too, since it was a weeknight. Sarita has to be home by eight on weeknights.”

  “No other company?”

  “No. Well, one of Sarita’s friends was there until ten—Lori’s got a license and her mother lets her use her car a lot. I’m divorced,” she added. “I don’t know if Rule told you or not, but I’m divorced, so it’s just me and Sarita at home now that Annie is at college.”

  “Annie? Is she your other daughter?”

  She nodded. “Her full name’s Anna Maria after her grandmother, but she’s gone by Annie since she started school. She’s at UCLA. They’re on a quarter system there instead of semesters, did you know? She doesn’t get to come home till the end of the spring quarter. Not till June.”

  “You must miss her. How old is Sarita?”

  “Sixteen. She’ll take driver’s ed this summer.” She smiled wryly. “I’m not looking forward to that nearly as much as she is.”

  “I’ll bet. Did you know Steve Hilliard?”

  She shrugged. “Slightly. We’d met a few times. I knew he and Jason were tight.”

  “You knew they were both lupus.”

  “Yes. I knew about Jason before he…well, before most people did. And Steve was open about his nature.” She glanced at Rule. “That is, he was after you made your big announcement. That’s been, what—five years now?”

  Rule smiled. “Six.”

  Lily jotted down the names and info Lupe had given her. “You and Jason are good friends.” She kept her head down so she didn’t seem to be watching Lupe, but she was. She saw the glance Lupe gave Rule before she answered.

  “Good friends,” she said firmly. “He introduced me to another friend. Maybe you know her. Nettie Two-Horses.”

  Lily looked up, smiling. “I do. Nettie’s one of my favorite people. Did she help you with your Gift?”

  Lupe jerked back, frowning.

  “Maybe Rule didn’t tell you. I’m Gifted, too. I’m a sensitive.”

  “Oh. No, he didn’t. He didn’t mention that.”

  “I kept it secret for years, but that’s not working for me anymore. I don’t use my Gift to out people, Lupe. You don’t have to worry about that. Rule tells me you live close to Robert Friar.”

  Her upper lip lifted. “That nacimiento póstumo.”

  “I haven’t heard that one before.”

  “It means afterbirth. It’s from an old saying that I made up.” When she smiled this time, a dimple winked mischievously in one cheek. “Do you have pets, Agent Yu?”

  “Uh…yes.” Though Dirty Harry probably saw things the other way around. “A tomcat. He’s neutered now, but don’t tell him.”

  “You may not be aware that after giving birth, many animal mothers will eat the afterbirth to keep the den clean. What I say about Robert Friar is that his poor mother was confused—she ate the baby and raised the afterbirth.”

  “You really don’t like the man.”

  Lupe leaned forward suddenly and grabbed Lily’s hand. “He is evil. Evil. He killed Steve, I am sure of it. You will find the evidence and arrest him, and Jason will go free. You must.”

  Softly Lily asked, “Why are you sure Friar killed Steve Hilliard?”

  “He hates lupi. Everyone knows he hates lupi and all the Gifted, anyone tainted by magic. That’s his word, tainted.”

  “There must be more than that, for you to be so certain.”

  She snorted. Some of her intensity faded, but she didn’t release Lily’s hand. “You ask him. Ask Robert Friar about his daughter, Mariah.”

  “All right. What can you tell me about her?”

  “She had a baby two months ago, a little boy. She claims he’s Steve’s son.”

  IT was late in the afternoon in late April, the sun was shining, and Lily was almost too warm in her lightweight jacket.

  That was as it should be. Why did cold weather, snow, and ice get such great press when it sucked? Of course, not everyone was lucky enough to live in San Diego.

  “Why so smug?” Rule asked.

  “Did you know that the U.S. Weather Service calls San Diego’s weather the most nearly perfect in the country?” To be fair she added, “Hawaii’s supposed to be nice, too.”

  He laughed. “You’re glad to be home.”

  “Yeah.” Even for a little while, and even if she wasn’t exactly home. Maybe Rule’s condo was supposed to be home now, but it wasn’t hers. She didn’t pay for anything there except some of the groceries. Which reminded her…“The lease comes due on my apartment next month.”

  “Hmm.”

  She glanced
at him. “You’re not going to tell me how stupid it is for me to keep paying rent when we’re living together and your place is so much bigger?”

  “Why would I tell you what you already know? You’ll keep the apartment if you feel a need. If not, you’ll let it go.”

  She walked beside him for a few steps in silence. “If I weren’t investigating, I’d hold your hand right now.”

  Promptly he took hers.

  “Hey.” But she didn’t pull away. She told herself no one would notice—they were mostly blocked from view by the parked cars. “Mariah Friar’s baby. He isn’t Steve’s son, is he?”

  “No. It’s not uncommon for a woman to claim one of us as the father. Sometimes they believe it to be true. Sometimes they hope for support, emotional or financial or both. Sometimes they want the notoriety.”

  “Hmm.” She accepted Rule’s word as both honest and accurate. He would know. Lupi never had to play who’ s-the dad. When a lupus impregnated a woman, he was instantly aware of it.

  Lily might not have believed that if she hadn’t been almost present when it happened once. Cynna and Cullen had made love in the next room, not in front of her—and thank God for that—but there was no doubt in her mind that Cullen had known immediately that his seed had caught.

  Any lupus blessed with a child notified his Rho ASAP. One as desperate for a child as Hilliard had been would have announced it to the entire clan. Certainly to his oldest friend. “So, how exactly did you stalk Chief Daly?”

  “I don’t know why I thought you might forget to ask about that.”

  “I don’t, either.”

  He flashed her a grin. “Smart-ass. All right. For about a month, I made sure good old Pete saw a lot of me. Sometimes two or three times a day. We’d run into each other at the post office or Joe’s Burgers—he likes the chili burger with extra jalapeños. Sometimes I’d skip a couple days. Doesn’t do to be predictable.”

  “That’s enough to make him mad, not to make him sweat. He started sweating when he saw you.”

  “Some of the places where I ran into him would have been unexpected.”

  “Such as?”