by Gina LaManna
“Matthew, listen.” Dani reached a hand out and rested it against his chest, pushing him a step back. “I’m going to take the job.”
Matthew took two more steps back. “What job?”
“The chief talked to me this morning. He asked me to return to the force full time,” she said icily. “He mentioned that he ran it by you first, and you said it wouldn’t be a problem because there’s nothing between us.”
“Danielle—” Matthew’s heart sank as realization hit him. This was all wrong. The timing couldn’t have been worse. When he’d assured the chief there wasn’t hope for something between himself and Danielle...it had been before they’d spent the night together. “No, it wasn’t like that. When he asked—”
“It doesn’t matter.” Dani cleared her throat. “I want the job, and it is a brilliant opportunity. Since it will make no difference to you one way or another, I’d prefer to keep things business-only between us moving forward. It is the only way that we’ll be able to work together.”
“No, Danielle—I didn’t mean that. When the chief asked about us—”
She raised a hand, the violet finally fading from her eyes as the anger left and a sense of contentment seemed to settle over her. That was the worst of it—Matthew could see she had already come to terms with her decision. Matthew wouldn’t get the chance to right his wrong. How could he now, when she had so clearly made up her mind? For him to confess his feelings to her and take away the opportunity she so desperately wanted would be pure selfishness.
If he loved her—which he truly did—he should want to see her happy. To support her in her dreams and desires, whatever they may be. If that meant she took the position with the NYPD, then so be it. If that meant she chose Grey over him...
Matthew snarled internally at the thought, but he still knew there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn’t buy her love, nor could he convince her of it. For them to be together, Dani would need to offer herself freely to him. She needed to want him even a fraction as much as he wanted her because anything less was unfair to them both.
“It’s the right choice for me,” she said softly. “Which means you’ll be my captain and that means we cannot do this, Matthew. The chief said he asked you first and you were fine with it.”
“It’s your choice,” Matthew said flatly. “It’s not one I can make for you.”
“Fine,” she said, and leaned against the doorknob as her face contorted in a flash of something that resembled pain. “If that’s what you believe—”
“It’s not! Dani—”
“Oh, shit.” The detective’s face went pale as the door swung open to reveal a ghastly sight. “I guess The Farmacist paid the doctor a very unfriendly visit.”
MATTHEW STEPPED INTO the doctor’s office—a newly minted crime scene—and grimly stepped forward to take Dr. Johnston’s pulse and administer help if needed.
It wasn’t necessary. Largely due to the fact that the doctor’s head had been completely removed from his body.
The sight was gruesome, even for Matthew. Even for a man who’d seen just about everything in his hundreds of years of existence, even for a man whose very nature suggested the sight of blood should appeal to him.
Captain King had vanquished that desire several centuries back, save for the occasional flare up that he was usually able to control. He’d bitten a willing witch just once. She now stood before him—his greatest weakness and his greatest fear, all wrapped in one.
“Let’s wait outside,” Matthew said, seeing the ashen shade of Dani’s skin. “The rest of the team will be here in minute—I have to call this in.”
Dani shook her head, not hearing him. Her gaze was transfixed on the scene. “How did he know?”
“Who?”
“The Farmacist,” she said, her eyes flicking up toward his. “How did he know we were coming for the doctor now?”
“I’m not sure he did,” Matthew said, blocking off the front office. “Get the patient lists from Lisa—now. See if she saw anyone come back here.”
Matthew sent Dani away from the crime scene. She had the strongest stomach in the department, but Matthew could tell she was wired and upset, and her response to this one had been emotional.
His tactics to keep Dani away didn’t work for long.
“I sent Lisa out front to wait for us,” Dani said in a darkly business-like tone. “She said she didn’t see anyone come back here. She went to the restroom about twenty minutes ago. When she came back, there was a note on her desk that Dr. Johnston was with a patient and not to be disturbed.”
“The patient files?”
“There’s nothing immediately suspicious on the sign-in log, but that’s to be expected,” Dani said. “I’m going to have the techs scour through Dr. Johnston’s patient files and contact anyone who has been prescribed a pill in the last six months.”
Matthew nodded. “I just Commed the chief. Felix is on standby to analyze all the medicines that come in from the patients for the curse. We need to get a lid on this fast because his patients will all be well and hooked on Harmony by now, and if they discover the doctor’s dead...”
“They’ll go elsewhere to get their fix,” Dani said, “or worse.”
Matthew nodded. “I doubt whichever patient did this to him will be on that list. That would be stupid of him, and we’re not dealing with a stupid man.”
“Or woman,” Dani added. “No, we’re not. We’re dealing with someone who leaves messages by taking off peoples’ heads.”
“Can you tell how he did it?”
Dani shuddered, glancing toward the body once more. Matthew watched as she studied what he presumed were the Residuals dancing around the crime scene. He regretted having asked, but that was the name of the game. And Dani had decided the game, the job, was her priority.
“It’s a Beheading Hex,” Dani said eventually. “But a very ancient version of it. The Residuals are...old. I don’t know how else to describe it.”
“What do they look like?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, though a shiver racked her body, and Matthew thought it must be very disturbing indeed. “I can’t tell which species created the spell. It’s very clever actually. It’s old magic. I believe it was conjured elsewhere and merely unleashed in the room, making it more difficult to see if the Residuals imprinted on their owner. Usually,” she explained, “witches, sorcerers, warlocks leave their own brand of Residuals mixed in with a curse that they conjure and release. If a spell is bottled previously and released, most of those Residuals have already faded.”
“The perfect crime scene.”
“It’s like whoever did this knew I would be here,” Dani said. “They’re covering their tracks almost too well, and it’s telling. They know things they shouldn’t, Captain—they know a lot about us and how we work.”
“Or they’re merely smart and observant,” Matthew said. “You’ve been teaming up with the force for weeks now on other cases. It’s not a huge surprise you’d be investigating the larger crimes within the department.”
“But the timing,” she mused. “How did they know we’d be coming here now? That’s what gets me.”
“It could be reactive,” he said. “We both came to the doctor yesterday. Us showing up here now could be a coincidence.”
“You don’t believe in coincidences and neither do I.”
“Anyone could’ve seen or known we were questioning the doctor,” Matthew argued. “We hardly tried to be discreet about it.”
“I know. You stuck an obvious tail on me. Not discreet at all.” She exhaled hugely. “I suppose you have a point, but it just feels more...intimate than that. The timing of things, the way crimes seem to precede us by just a few steps or follow shortly after we pay visits to people.”
“I assume The Farmacist is simply cleaning up after himself. Anyone deemed a threat has to go,” Matthew said. “I guess that’s how The Farmacist keeps himself under wraps—he murders the competition.”
“Well, it’s got to stop. Who’ll be next?” Dani’s eyes flicked up to Matthew in concern. “Just today I spoke with Willa’s mother, Renee Lupis, and Juno—oh, shit. Juno! Matthew, we must put guards on everyone. Those three names I just mentioned for sure. Everyone we speak with about their medicines—all of the doctor’s patients—could be in danger.”
“The doctor’s patients don’t know anything,” Matthew said. “I doubt Dr. Johnston knew much of anything, and he was the one distributing Harmony.”
“I don’t think The Farmacist is particular about who he kills, so long as he keeps himself out of trouble,” Dani said, her eyes widening. “All it takes is one person who noticed something, who pulled on a thread out of curiosity...”
“I need to get to the station.” Matthew pinched his forehead between his fingers. “I need to be there; I need to talk to Felix.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Dani said, holding in a breath as she shook her head. “Have you been listening to what I’m saying? It’s someone on the inside, Matthew. You have to talk to Sienna—she won’t let me within ten feet of her, and I don’t have a warrant. Find her.”
“I won’t—”
“Find her,” Dani said, “and ask her a few questions. She’ll understand.”
Matthew viewed her through narrowed eyes. “You’d better hope you’re right.”
“I know I am,” she said breathlessly. “You handle Sienna, Felix, and the security detail for anyone who might’ve been compromised.”
“And you?”
“I have...” she hesitated. “I will handle the crime scene until the techs get things under control, and then I’ll give you a Comm and see where you’re at with things.”
Matthew studied Dani, realizing not for the first time how much she was the job. There was no part of her that excelled at her work—she simply was a detective. It was in her very nature.
“Fine,” he said. “Don’t go looking for trouble without me.”
“I don’t need to,” she said with a grim smile. “Trouble finds me.”
Chapter 20
I handled the crime scene as promised until a group of Felix’s ladies and gents all but shooed me out of the place. There was nothing more I could do. I’d stared at the headless corpse long enough.
The only thing that would get me answers was asking more questions to the right people. Who are the right people? I asked myself, kneading my forehead as I climbed down the stairs of the doctor’s office and spotted my brother in the crowd of cops swarming the place.
“What are you doing here?” I asked Nash. “You’ve been warned off this case.”
“Great to see you, too, sis.”
“Come on, Nash,” I persisted, stepping closer to him. “Leave it alone. Half the division is on this case—don’t stick your neck out for it.”
“Peter asked for my help,” Nash said, his eyes narrowing. “What would you do?”
“Back off, Nash, I’m trying to help.”
“You don’t even work for the department,” he snarled. “Or do you just get special treatment because you’re sleeping with the boss?”
“Keep provoking me,” I said, struggling to keep my voice level. “See what happens, Lieutenant.”
“My pleasure, Detective.”
I turned away from Nash before he could see the tears in my eyes. I wondered when my brother had turned into such a jerk. It was as if something in this case was driving him mad, wild, and I couldn’t put my finger on what.
It’d been no secret that he’d taken a stumble and fallen during his time in Narcotics, but that case was now closed. The chief had granted Nash a second chance, and he’d done nothing but prove himself repeatedly—so why could I not shake the feeling that things weren’t adding up?
I pressed toward the pizzeria for lack of a better place to go. I needed a second to breathe and think, and I needed to check on things at the home front. It wouldn’t hurt to give Willa an update on her mother. From there, I could grab some calories for dinner and Comm Matthew to meet up with him for what promised to be the longest night in Wicked yet.
“THERE YOU ARE,” WILLA said, “I was just about to make Jack send you a Comm. We haven’t heard anything all day!”
“I know, I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s been...”
“Oh, honey, come here and sit down.” Willa rushed across the room and folded me into her arms, guiding me into the nearest vacant booth. She slid in next to me and gave me a thorough once-over before flagging down Jack and ordering two Diet Cokes from my unamused brother. “You look like death warmed over.”
“Accurate description,” I admitted. “I feel that way, too. Today’s been one for the books.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Not really.” I scrunched up my face and gave her an apologetic stare. “I’m sorry, I just need a minute to sit here. And maybe some food. Who do I have to sleep with to get a pepperoni slice around here?”
Willa laughed, though I noticed her eyes flicked toward Jack with interest as he slid our sodas onto the table, along with four slices of pepperoni pizza. “He’s good, isn’t he?”
“He is,” I agreed. “At least one of my brothers isn’t an asshole. Thanks, Jack.”
“What’d I do to deserve such high praise?” Jack asked wryly. One look at my face, and he understood. “Nash?”
“He hasn’t done anything, but I’m worried about him.”
“What am I missing?” Willa looked between us. “Is Nash okay?”
“He is creeping onto a frozen lake,” I said. “Except the ice is a lot thinner than it looks. He’d better hope to hell it doesn’t crack. If he falls through, he’s not getting back up this time.”
“That sounds like a huge analogy that tells me to mind my own business,” Willa said. “I hate seeing you all stressed and unhappy, Detective. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Jack excused himself, his carefree expression now replaced with one of grim concern as he tended to the rest of the shop. I noted that the new guy was behind the counter, back to work.
“Jimmy’s doing a good job,” Willa said. “I told him he didn’t have to come back so soon after his grandmother died, but I guess it was expected. She was...er, on her way out for a while now, I suppose.”
“Can you grab him for a second?”
“Who, Jimmy?”
I nodded. As Willa called for the newcomer to come over, I dug into a piping hot slice of pepperoni, thinking that maybe running a pizza shop was my true calling. I seemed to be flunking out at the detective business these days, and my relationship skills had always been abysmal. This pepperoni pizza, though, was something else.
“Hey, Jimmy,” I said, once the kid sat across from me. Willa dutifully made herself scarce to give us privacy. “I just wanted to give you my condolences for your grandmother. I’m really sorry to hear about her passing.”
He gave a shrug. “Thanks. We appreciated the flowers from the pizzeria, my mom especially. Made her cry.”
“Sorry about that, too,” I said with a sympathetic smile and reminded myself to thank Willa again for her thoughtfulness. “I really hate crying.”
“Me too,” he said with the first sign of a smile. He seemed like a happy kid, which made his gloomy expression somehow worse. “We all just thought she was getting better, you know?”
The hopefulness in his voice got to me, niggled at something. “May I ask if there was an illness involved?”
“Sure. Age. She was just getting old.” The shy grin was back, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “At least, that’s what she said. My grandpa died six months back, and she seemed to not recover from that. We took her to doctors, but most of them couldn’t do much for her...”
“Was she taking any sort of medicines?” Alarm bells were ringing full force. “This is really important, Jimmy.”
He cleared his throat. “I didn’t go digging in my gran’s medicine cabinets.”
“Anything your mom m
entioned—maybe she had to pick up a prescription from somewhere, or—”
“Oh, my mom hated her pills,” Jimmy said. “My gran did take medicine, but it was against my mom’s wishes. Gran finally went off them, but it wasn’t until last week.”
“Why didn’t your mom like your grandmother’s meds?”
“She, ah, suspected they were making things worse.” Jimmy looked embarrassed. “I told her she didn’t know anything; I mean, a doctor gave them to her. Aren’t doctors supposed to help?”
“They’re supposed to,” I said. “Why did your grandmother eventually stop taking her prescription?”
Jimmy cleared his throat. “I’m—ah, not sure I should say.”
“I apologize for prying into your business,” I said, quickly weighing the pros and cons for what I had to do next. “But I think this might have something to do with a case I’m working on. It could really help.”
“I don’t mind talking about the pills, but the lady who came by told us to keep our mouths shut.” His face paled. “She was really serious. Like, freaked out.”
“What did she look like?”
“She was...” he hesitated. “One of you. She said to trust nobody—not even the police.”
It was like a knife in my gut. “What did she look like?”
“She was hot.” He got teenage-boy-eyes for a second, imagining what this mystery woman looked like, and then realized his misstep. “Sorry, I mean she was pretty. Long blond hair, sort of curvy—not fat, but just not skinny—shorter than you by a few inches.”
“Her name?”
“Lucy? No.” He frowned, thinking back. “I remember it was something exotic.”
My throat went dry. “Lucia?”
“Yes, that’s it,” he said. “I haven’t seen her since, though.”
“Because she’s missing,” I said, pinning Jimmy with a deathly gaze. “I need you to tell me exactly what she said.”
“Look, I’m not supposed to talk to cops—”
“I am your only chance. After we talk here, you will not say a word to anyone else.”