by Meg Ripley
Jason nodded, conceding that Tandy’s deduction was correct, but didn’t elaborate.
“Do I have to arrest you to make you talk?”
“If you do arrest me, I’d like to call my attorney.”
“Sit tight,” Tandy said, rising. He disappeared, and Jason moaned, dropping his head to the table in front of him. Was he willing to go to jail to protect a killer? Is that how he wanted to be known to the world? Is that how he wanted to be known to Mary?
It was impossible to track how much time passed in that little room, but sweat was starting to gather at his temples and the back of his neck. Even if he told Tandy the absolute truth of his suspicions, would the homicide detective believe him about a dragon being the culprit?
When the door swung open, Jason’s stomach sank all the way to his feet. Mary walked in—only it wasn’t Mary. It was Shayne. And she was pissed off. He could see the anger radiating from her and in that moment, he realized that Tandy had expertly cornered him into the truth. Regardless of what he wanted to reveal to the authorities, he couldn’t very well lie to her. He didn’t want to.
“What the hell is going on here?” Shayne demanded, each word as sharp as a nail. “You disappear in the middle of the night only to show up at my father’s house? What do you think you were doing?”
“I needed to check something out.”
“What did you need to check for yourself?” she demanded.
“It was just a hunch.”
Shayne sank into the chair across from him, her eyes suddenly losing their flash. “A hunch about what? If you know something, Jason, please, just tell me. Who did this?”
“I don’t know who killed your father and his staff. I don’t know anything.”
“Then why did you come out here? Why didn’t you tell me where you were going? And how did you get out here so fast?”
Jason didn’t see any cameras, but he was certain they were being recorded. “I came out here to see what happened. I didn’t mean any harm, and I didn’t want to wake you up and disturb you. I just drove fast.”
“Fast? It was almost a hundred miles. You would have been driving recklessly. And you’re not a reckless driver, Jason, so tell me what is going on.” When he didn’t answer, she leaned forward and said softly, “They’re going to put you in jail, Jason, and I really would rather you be out. With me.”
Jason took a deep breath, a part of him wondering if he’d done this to himself on purpose. Now he had to tell her the truth. It was no longer in his control if he wanted to avoid a charge. “I was looking for this.” He took the wrapped scale from his pocket and pulled the material away.
“What is that? A rock? Like obsidian?”
“It’s something like obsidian. It’s a scale.”
“A what?”
“A dragon scale.”
She moved her hand from his and leaned back slowly in her seat, her face resembling something of a stone itself. “A dragon scale?”
“Yes. I had a hunch after I saw the burn on your father’s chest.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
Jason blinked. “What?”
“I don’t want to hear anything about dragons or the rest of that bullshit. No wonder Dad liked you so much. You’re both crazy.”
“I’m not crazy, Mary, and neither was your father.”
“You were found snooping around my father’s house, and now you’re talking about dragons. What were you looking for anyway?”
“This! This is exactly what I was looking for. Mary, look, I didn’t want to find it. I didn’t want to be right, but I’m telling you that this is from a dragon.”
“They’re not real, Jason. They’re just a fantasy. And considering everything that’s happened, a sick one at that.” She rose with that and walked to the door. He immediately scooped up the scale and hurried to follow her, still hoping they could talk and she would come to believe him. He’d been so concerned about whether or not he should reveal the truth about a dragon’s involvement, he forgot to consider the bombshell that dragons existed in the first place.
“Mary, wait.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“What?”
She paused and looked over her shoulder. “Don’t call me, either.”
“Mar—Shayne. Ms. Simmons. Please, just let me explain.”
“I gave you a chance to explain. Instead of an explanation, I got that garbage. So, goodbye, Mr. Cross.”
She didn’t spare him another glance as she left the station and he couldn’t do anything but watch her walk away.
“Ouch, man.” Tandy was suddenly at his shoulder, his voice full of surprising sympathy. “That was brutal. You okay?”
“No.”
“Come on.”
“Where we going?”
“To get you a drink.”
“You mean, I’m not going to be arrested?”
“No, unlike Ms. Simmons, I believe you. Let’s go.”
****
Jason didn’t know why Tandy believed his story about dragons, and he didn’t need to know. Maybe he had previous knowledge of dragons. Maybe he’d seen something like this before. Or maybe Jason’s fantastical declaration fit the evidence, but he was a quiet and attentive audience as Jason explained what he knew.
“So, you don’t know which dragon this scale might belong to?”
“No. Not just by looking at it.
“But there is a way to find out?”
“DNA testing, I’m assuming?”
“To your knowledge, did Neil have any relationships, business or personal, with any dragons?”
Jason took a deep breath. In for a penny, in for a pound, he supposed. “One. Vincent Ryder. He lives in Manhattan. He’s an artist.”
“I’m familiar with his work. Didn’t know he was a dragon, though.”
“Well,” Jason said around a mouthful of peanuts, “it’s a secret.”
“As is your status, I suppose.”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“It’s not hard to deduce and I’m a pretty good detective. Well, we have evidence and a possible suspect, now we need a motive. Was there any bad blood between the two of them?”
“No, not at all. Vincent thought highly of him. They were friends.”
“So, they were close?”
“I don’t know. Friendly, definitely. But I don’t know how deep that friendship went.”
Tandy leaned back, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth for a moment before saying, “Ms. Simmons really doesn’t like dragons, does she?”
“I have a feeling she was tired of hearing about dragons from her father.”
“Neil liked dragons? Did he think they were real, too?”
“Think?” Jason sighed. “You don’t really believe me, do you?”
“It is, uh...farfetched, but I’m willing to keep an open mind.”
“I don’t know if he knew. I asked Vincent after I saw the mechanical dragons he’d designed for Neil. They were very, very...realistic. Vincent was quick to assure me that Neil was completely in the dark; he just thought Vincent was a creative genius.” Jason lifted his shoulder in a half-shrug. “I think he wanted very much for them to be real. Whether or not he had personal knowledge of them before he died, I can’t say.”
“You think he died with personal knowledge?”
“A dragon is very large, but one could definitely fit in the foyer of the mansion where Neil was found. He couldn’t maneuver much, but he wouldn’t have to. And I think that was probably the last thing Neil saw.”
“Let me see that scale.”
Jason produced it without protest.
“You know it’s illegal to take evidence from the scene of the crime.”
“I understand.”
“And, on a personal note, I find it obnoxious as hell.”
“I understand that as well.”
“But I’m not going to arrest you for it. You’re going to show me exactly where you found it and how you found it
and we’ll get pictures and proceed from there. You help me find the guy who did this, and nobody needs to be the wiser about your little adventure tonight.”
“I’ll help you,” Jason said quickly. “I want to find him, too.”
“And maybe prove a little something to Ms. Simmons?”
“Well, I’d like her to have a better view of her father, at least.” He unwrapped the scale and held it up to the light. “Given the size, I’d say we’re definitely dealing with an adult, but I can’t tell you much else.”
“Do dragons eat humans?”
“Not in the past several centuries. It’s hard to keep a low profile and leave a trail of bodies.”
“The staff I told you about before were found mostly dismembered. Several of the body parts were missing. That accounts for all the blood. But why would he eat them and not Neil?”
“Any idea who died first?” Jason asked.
“Not yet. Our best indication is the blood splatter found on, around, and under Mr. Simmons. Once we have the results of that analysis, we’ll have a clearer picture of what happened.”
Tandy refreshed each of their glasses with beer from the pitcher. Jason drank his mechanically, his mind drifting back to the drinks he’d shared with Mary just a few hours earlier. Why hadn’t he stayed with her? Why would he have gotten himself embroiled like this?
“Based on what you saw of the body, how do you think he died?” Tandy asked.
Jason shifted his attention from the beer to the scale and the way it reflected the bar’s dull light. “Burned. Cooked to a crisp all the way through.”
“But not eaten or otherwise harmed.”
“Did you ask Mary if anything was missing from the house?” Jason asked.
“We haven’t had the chance to take her back to the house yet.”
“Somebody tossed his bedroom.”
“And I suppose you got your DNA and fingerprints all over the room trying to figure out what they were looking for?” Tandy asked, though he only sounded mildly annoyed.
“I didn’t touch anything,” Jason said quickly. “I just looked at it from the doorway, but somebody was clearly up there. His master suite was part of the big house tour and he kept the place impeccable.”
“I suppose money could have been the motive. Rich old guy in a big old house like that? He’d definitely have some valuable items.”
Jason shook his head. He wasn’t so sure about that. “I have a feeling that Neil tended to cherish things for their sentimental value, not their monetary worth. Plus, he really wasn’t rich.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“That’s the point. He fooled everybody, but I guess he spent all of his money a long time ago.”
“So, nobody stood to inherit from his death?”
“No. Mary is the trustee for her mother’s estate and I guess her father’s estate was all dried up.”
“How do you know that?”
“I was looking to get into business with Neil. That’s how we met. I discovered recently he didn’t have any money to invest.”
Tandy looked at him thoughtfully. “Perhaps you weren’t the only one to make that discovery recently. Maybe this wasn’t about an inheritance, just good old fashioned rage.”
Jason almost caught himself shaking his head, but stopped himself from giving voice to his immediate thought of No, Vincent doesn’t need the money. Did he really think Vincent was capable of murder, let alone guilty of the crime? Vincent was intense and arrogant, but he wasn’t a psychopath. And besides being a psychopath, what motive would he have to kill not only Neil, but innocent bystanders as well?
“I think I should talk to this Vincent.”
“Let me talk to him,” Jason quickly countered, speaking before he realized he even had the idea.
“What?”
“I can wear a wire or something and I’ll talk to him.”
Tandy stared at him for a beat before asking, “What do you think this is? A TV show? CSI or some shit? I’m not going to send you in with a wire, I just want to talk to the man.”
“If you speak with him, he’ll run.”
Tandy’s eyes narrowed. “Mr. Cross, do you know something you’re not telling me? I thought we were friends.”
“I told you everything I know. I’ll also tell you that the man can disappear at will. He’s a dragon. He can fly away. He has amassed endless wealth, he has connections all over the globe, and if he is guilty, you’ll never find him. But if I talk to him, I’m just his buddy bitching about losing an investor.”
“Well, you won’t need to wear a wire. We have telephones now. How soon will you be able to see him?”
“There’s nothing keeping me here. I’ll go home tonight and see him tomorrow.”
“Are you going to be flying home?”
“I try not to do that in public. Too risky.”
“Why did you risk it tonight?”
Jason swallowed the last of his beer. “You are a good detective.”
“I’m no Sherlock Holmes, I just noticed that your car was abandoned right outside the city. Seems like you traveled over a hundred miles in less than twenty minutes somehow.”
“Is that why you believe me?”
“I don’t actually believe you, Jason, but you’re the only lead I’ve got. I just pray that I’m not wasting my time.” He produced his wallet from his jacket, tossed a couple of bills between them, and handed Jason his business card. “Go home. Get some sleep. Call me tomorrow and we’ll work out the plan. I will have very specific guidelines that I will expect you to follow. Also, if you chicken out, I’m going to be really disappointed.”
“I won’t chicken out,” Jason promised, though he was already feeling a peculiar dread, a sense of guilt he always associated with disappointing his father. Speaking to the police was one nearly unforgivable thing, but what would the senior Cross say when he learned his son assisted in gathering evidence against another dragon?
****
By the time Jason returned to the city, he was too exhausted to function and too wired to sleep. He kept thinking about the fight with Mary, and when he wasn’t dwelling over her, he was brooding over Vincent, over his father, and over the horrific crime scene that still lingered behind his eyelids. He saw the splashes of blood every time he closed his eyes, which made slumber completely impossible.
Eventually, his body surrendered to exhaustion, but when he woke, he was far from refreshed. The booze caught up with him and he remembered with a sigh the burger he had stashed away instead of eating. His stomach roiled, though he had nothing to throw up, and his head pounded, and when he checked his phone, he had a message from a number he didn’t recognize.
“This is Detective Tandy,” the message started, each word clipped and rather unpleasant. “Call me as soon as you get this. We need to talk.”
Jason did not want to talk to him. He wished he could go back in time and make every decision differently. He would never view the body with Mary; he would never travel back to the crime scene; he would never let Tandy trick him into thinking they were friends. Now Mary was gone and he would absolutely be facing charges if he didn’t jump to obey Tandy’s orders. That had been part of the deal they’d struck over beers—a friendly conversation that was neither friendly nor a conversation. It had been a calculated interrogation and Jason had been happy to sing like a bird.
“God, what was I thinking?” Jason moaned, sinking to the edge of his bed and staring at the phone. What if he recorded his conversation with Vincent and Vincent said something incriminating? Then, of course it would be used against him in a human court of law, and how did Jason think that would play out?
Not good. Not good for anybody, but especially not good for Jason—or the rest of the dragons who had nothing to do with any of this and would be at risk for exposure. “Fuck. I’m an idiot.” He called the number and Tandy answered on the first ring.
“I thought you were hiding from me.”
“No,” Jason sai
d, “just sleeping.”
“But you’re awake now?”
“Are you sure you’re not Sherlock Holmes? Anyway, I need to get dressed and then I’ll head on over to the Club.”
“Turn on your GPS so I can track your location. Call me as soon as you get there. Just leave your phone on.”
“You know, if I get caught with that phone inside the Club—”
“What? You’ll have a warrant out for your arrest?”
“No.” Probably something much worse than that, but he didn’t expect Tandy to understand. “I’ll call you when I get there. Anything else?”
“Don’t lead him on. Don’t give him too much information. Especially don’t tell him anything you know from visiting the scene. Do you understand?”
“No leading him on, no feeding him information. Got it. Anything else?”
“Yeah, get me something I can use and don’t blow it.”
“Sure. No problem.” Jason disconnected the call, muttering, “I can’t believe I ever thought I could be friends with that guy.”
But in his vulnerable state over Mary, it had seemed like they could be friends. Tandy seemed like his new best friend, and now he was embroiled in a scheme to possibly implicate the man who was the closest thing to a best friend he ever had.
He completed his regular morning routine with single-minded focus, seeing to the minutia of his daily life so he wouldn’t have to think about the task ahead. No matter how many times he told himself that everything was normal, the upcoming conversation weighed on him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the consequences would be momentous, regardless of the outcome.
By the time he reached the Club, he was ready for a drink. Mia started to pour as soon as she saw him walk through the door, and he downed it with a grateful smile.
“You look like you had a tough night,” she observed.
“It wasn’t great. Give me another, please.”
“No problem. Damian was asking after you.” She slid the tumbler across the bar.
Jason did not feel like speaking with his father, especially with the previous night’s events still crowding his mind. “You haven’t seen me yet today. Is Vincent here?”
“Out back.”
“Send out a bottle of whatever he’s been drinking.”