Twist of Fae (Vegas Fae Stories Book 3)

by Tom Keller

  TWIST OF FAE

  A Vegas Fae story

  By

  Tom Keller

  Also by Tom Keller

  Return of the High Fae

  Available on Amazon and other Internet retailers

  Of Gods and Fae

  Available on Amazon and Createspace

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved.

  Cover design by SciCop.

  Cover design image credits:

  © Can Stock Photo Inc. / Ostill

  © Can Stock Photo Inc. / roxanabalint

  © Can Stock Photo Inc. / Wetzkaz

  © Can Stock Photo Inc. / gatterwe

  Kindle Edition © 2015 Tom Keller

  Las Vegas, NV USA

  Acknowledgements

  I'd like to take a moment and say thanks to all those fans that commented or emailed. A shout out to Dee, Brian, Susan, Larry, Deirdre, John, and all the rest of you. You know who you are.

  This book wouldn’t have been written if not for their support as well as their helpful and insightful comments. Not to mention frequently asking for updates of my progress. Thanks are also due my beta-readers for putting up with my frequent emails and plot changes.

  A special thanks to my wife, Karen, for her help in editing and my Facebook friend Dee McDaniel for her keen eyes and edits. Sometimes I can't see the forest for the trees when it comes to a missing word or a paragraph that just doesn't seem to make sense to anyone but me.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  JAY

  "I'm on Rancho now," I said to the sergeant on the phone. "Be there in a sec." I disconnected, and then turned right and drove down Bellflower until I saw the unmarked police car parked in the desert. Pulling over next to it, I got out and walked up to the car. A tall, blonde cop, wearing jeans and a tactical vest, stepped out and met me half way.

  I'd driven up from LA before the crack of dawn, after a phone call from the duty officer about a possible local terrorist link on a case the Victorville cops were working. All I knew was that they had arrested one of their problem ex-felons, and after a search of his phone, had found a connection to a target on our watch list. It wasn't much to go on, just a few tweets, but someone thought it was important enough to get me out of bed to drive up into the desert to check it out. Fortunately, at least in this case, I'd been having trouble sleeping, so having to get out of bed was almost like doing me a favor.

  "Agent Hoskins," he said in a slightly formal tone. "I'm Sergeant McManus."

  "Good to meet you, Sarge," I replied as I shook his hand. "Thanks for the heads up."

  "No problem," he said. "But I'm surprised that someone got you out of bed for this. We've been dealing with this guy for years and, as far as I know, he's just one of the local assholes. Hell, he just got out of prison a few months ago."

  "Mine is not to reason why," I said, throwing my hands up to indicate I was just doing my job. Dealing with some local police agencies could be… well, let's just say it could get interesting. No one liked their cases stepped on, especially by the Feds. My dad, a retired cop himself, had taught me that a long time ago, and I'd learned to be diplomatic. "I promise I'm not here to get in your way."

  "I got no problem with you coming down, Agent," McManus replied. "It just surprised me, that's all. You being from the city. We've got a local rep here that we usually deal with, but for some reason he's out of the loop on this thing. The chief said to cooperate, so that's what I'm doing."

  "Welcome to my world, Sarge," I said, chuckling. "I just go where they tell me. Please, call me Jay. I hate that formal shit out in the field."

  That got a laugh.

  "So what have you got, Sarge?" I asked.

  "Alright Jay, and you can call me Mac." he replied. "Here's the skinny. WMA name of Rickie Alcot got out of prison a few months ago and moved back into his momma's old house. Best we can tell he's been living there alone. He's got no other family left. Momma passed away last year, but the taxes are paid through a trust, so it's his until the money runs out. His Parole Officer says he's been quiet. Makes all his appointments and is supposedly looking for a job. Not that that means anything though."

  "House is a couple miles up the road. SWAT's been watching the place from the development down the street since your guy's name popped up. No movement so far. It's most likely empty, but we're hanging back because it's in the middle of nowhere and there's no way for us not to be seen if we get any closer. I was just waiting for you before I called the guys out to hit the place. They should be on their way now."

  "We busted Ricky yesterday morning burglarizing an electronics store. After we searched his van, we recovered a shitload of electronics. Mostly computer parts, but some other electronics as well. We've had a series going, and based on what we found in the car, we figure he's good for all of them. I had one of my guys draw up a warrant for his phone and house yesterday evening. Your guy's name showed up on the phone when the guys examined it after the bust. We called your office after finding the hit, and held off on searching the house at their request. That's about it."

  My guy was an anti-government extremist by the name of Benjamin Holt. He'd been on the run since being connected to a failed bombing attempt of an LA courtroom late last year. His father had been on trial there for shooting it out with the cops after a routine traffic stop just the week before. According to my office, there were no known connections to this guy, or even the Victorville area. I wasn't sure why the local satellite office couldn’t handle it, but it was close enough to LA that it really wasn't an issue.

  "This guy got any history of violence or weapons violations?" I asked, after giving him what little I knew about my subject.

  "Naw. Ricky's a little strange, I'll admit. Of course that's probably his momma's fault," he replied. "But he's never been violent. He's property crimes all the way. Hell, I used to chase him myself when he was a kid stealing beer. Don’t get me wrong, he's a damn fine burglar, but he's never given us any problem when we busted him. I don’t think he's ever even stolen a gun, let alone used one. He sometimes carries a knife to pry stuff, but he's never threatened us with it."

  "What do you mean by strange?" I probed.

  "Oh, he's just a little different. His momma used to own a little curio shop in Apple Valley that he used to hang out at. Metaphysical stuff. Used to find all sorts of weird crap on him when he was younger. Some say she was a witch, but I wouldn’t know about that."

  "A witch?" You mean like a Wiccan?" I asked, meaning the religion.

  "I couldn't say. All I've ever heard is rumors," the sergeant replied. "But they say she practiced spells at night out in the desert. She used to sell potions and little bags of mojo at the shop. Had a whole wall of jars with weird stuff in them. All legal of course, as far as I knew. But I didn't really know her that well. Only saw her when she picked Ricky up from juvenile, or later, the jail.
Liked to keep to herself mostly, except when she was at the shop. That's why she lived out here."

  At that moment I heard the radio crackle. The sergeant answered on his pack set, the portable radio.

  "They're on their way. ETA 5 minutes. Your car will be alright here if you want to ride with me" he said.

  "Sure," I replied. "Let me just grab a few things." I walked back to my car and grabbed my radio and jacket before locking up. He pulled up beside me and I got in on the passenger side. We waited a few minutes before seeing three more unmarked cars pull up and slow down before speeding up again. As the last one passed, McManus pulled into the travel lane and followed.

  "We'll just stay back a bit until after they make entry," he said as we started down the road. "If that's okay with you."

  "It's your case, Mac," I replied. "I'm just an observer. Like I said before; I'm not here to get in your way."

  McManus nodded. I sat back and admired the scenery as we passed several small housing developments and a lot of desert. A couple of minutes and a few turns later, he pulled over to the side of the road.

  "That's it there," he said, pointing to a ramshackle two story about a half a mile ahead. It sat across and down the road from a newer subdivision that still had houses under construction. "This used to be way past the end of town but, as you can see, the developers are starting to catch up."

  I watched as the three cars continued up the road. A fourth pulled out from the new construction and joined them. A moment later, they accelerated and turned down the gravel driveway on the target property. Within seconds they had stopped at the corner of the house, exiting their vehicles and running towards it. Several cops in black took up positions at both the front and back, and then entered the residence. After they made entry, I could hear the varied radio traffic indicating that they were searching the house. A minute or two later, I heard one of them call the sergeant to give him the all clear.

  McManus put the car in gear and we drove to the scene. As he turned on to the gravel driveway, one of the officers came out of the house and jogged towards his car. My eyes flashed to a vent below the eves when a feeling of dread came over me. Time seemed to stop. I started seeing things. Images of a woman holding a gun flashed into my head. Although I knew I was still in the moving car, it was as if I was watching the scene unfold from somewhere else.

  I'm not even sure if seeing is the right word. It was more like reliving a memory, but I was sure it wasn't mine. The woman held a rifle, an AR-15, or so it appeared, and had it pointed down as if she was going to shoot into the floor. In slow motion, I watched as she pulled the trigger. I saw the flashes as she fired. I saw her mouth move, and from her expression, she was screaming in rage, but I heard no sound. As soon as she fired, she was up and moving to a vent on the wall. As she pushed the barrel through it, the vent opened. Now I was seeing the memory through her eyes. Stunned, I saw myself in the car as the sergeant drove up the driveway. The barrel swung to the officer who was standing at his driver's door. Then the barrel flashed again. Suddenly it was over, and I was back in the car. Somehow, I knew what I had seen hadn’t happened… yet.

  "The attic," I yelled as we pulled next to the passenger side of the officer's car. As I bailed out of the car, I heard Mac yelling so I screamed back. "The attic! In the attic!" Mac hit the brakes and I scrambled over the trunk, rushing to the other car. I could hear rounds being fired from the direction of the house. With a leap that I would not have believed possible, I jumped over the other car and landed on the officer, just as bullets hailed from the upstairs attic of the house, peppering the car's door where he had been standing only a moment before.

  "WTF…" the officer groaned as he went down to the ground with me on top of him.

  "Shots from the attic," I yelled as I rolled off. "We need cover!"

  Realizing what had happened, he rolled as well. Then we both scrambled around the car to the passenger side, stopping near the wheel well. Both of us drew our weapons, trying to figure out what was going on.

  Mac had stopped a few yards in front of the car and bailed out himself. I looked over and saw him with gun drawn, kneeling beside his open driver's side door. I could hear voices on the radio, and more shots, before someone, a few long seconds later, called out that the suspect was down. Mac ran from his position towards us.

  "Jesus, Jesse," he croaked. "Are you alright?"

  "I'm fine," the other officer replied. "I think." Then he ran his hands over his chest and groin, looking down at his body as he did so. "I don’t think I'm hit," he said when he was done.

  "How the hell did you know?" Mac asked, looking at me.

  They were both staring, and I hesitated before replying. There was no way I was gonna tell these guys that I had seen it in a vision.

  "Saw a flash and then the barrel at the vent," I said after a moment, peeking over the hood of the car to point at the attic vent that I'd somehow seen from inside the house. Then I heard the crackle of the radio as someone called out clear again.

  "They better be right this time." Mac stood, reaching out his hand to pull the other officer to his feet, before turning to me to do the same. "I owe you," he said.

  I was still in a daze as I heard a call from the front of the house, and another officer waved at Mac to come over. Jesse had gone to look at his car door, so I followed Mac as he walked towards the house. Just as we stepped on to the porch, I heard the crunching gravel as Jesse ran up behind me.

  "Holy shit, bro!" he said as he ran up and hugged me, before taking his hand and rubbing it in my hair. "Son of a bitch! I think you just saved my life!" His grin was ear to ear.

  I just smiled and rapped his back. This wasn't the first shooting I'd been in, and somehow I knew it wasn't his either. There was nothing I could think of to say in response. I'd been in high stress situations like this before. Between that and the vision, I knew we were both coming down from an adrenaline high.

  "You might want to see this, too," Mac said, after a short discussion with the officer.

  Thanks were forgotten for the moment, as two other officers came out of the house and joined Jesse. This was just another day at the office for these guys, and there was still an active crime scene with work to do. I was sure the paperwork that was going to be generated would probably keep them busy way into the night and for several days to come.

  Mac turned back and I followed him, as the other officer led us into the house. While we walked, he got on the radio, and I called my office to advise them of the shooting. I told them I hadn't used my weapon, and that I'd fill them in when things were done. Eventually we made it to the second floor. The body of the shooter, head covered in a towel, lay where she fell through a hidden trap door after being shot during the exchange of gunfire.

  "Sorry Mac," I heard the other officer say as we reached the body. "Whoever built this hidey-hole knew what he was doing. We missed it on the first go around."

  "No shit," he replied.

  "Anyway," the other officer began again. "The gun is secure. Civilian AR with mods. She had it on full auto. We're not sure what set her off. We're guessing she heard Steve when he hit the top of the stairwell. He took her down as soon he realized where she was firing from. Shot her through the ceiling after she popped the caps into the hallway."

  "Not before she almost took out Jesse," Mac muttered as he stepped over to the body. "Any idea who she is?"

  "Nope," the officer replied. "Search team is just getting started. We didn’t find a purse or any ID on her, or in what's left of the attic."

  "Ok," he replied. "Criminalistics and I.A. (Internal Affairs) are on the way. I gotta call the watch commander and let him know what's up. Where's Steve?"

  "He's outside with Carl. We've secured his gun as well."

  "Anything else special you need from us?" Mac asked, turning his attention to me.

  "No," I answered. "Just a heads up if your guys find anything unusual. Other than that, I'd just like to observe, but I'll try to stay ou
t of your way."

  Anytime there was a police shooting all hell broke loose and I didn't envy them. Everyone and their mother would want a statement. Between Internal Affairs checking policy, and the detectives making sure that the officers followed the law, the reports these guys were gonna have to do would keep them busy for the next few days. I also knew that the media would be here shortly, so even though I'd called my office, they would want reports as well. Especially if someone noticed my smiling face on TV. I still didn’t know what to think about the vision, or that crazy leap over the car, but I had a feeling it was best left unmentioned. But duty called and I still had work to do, so I stepped up to where Mac was standing.

  "Mind if I take a quick peek at the girl?"

  "Be my guest. Just don’t disturb anything without telling us, so we can document it."

  "I'm just going to move the towel enough to see her face," I replied as I knelt down by the body.

  He started to walk back towards the stairway, but stopped and looked back at me. "I'm gonna need you when I.A. and the detectives get here. They're probably going to want a statement, or at least an appointment to make one."

  "No problem," I said, as I pulled aside the towel and stared into lifeless eyes. It was her. The same woman I'd seen in my vision. The rage I had seen was gone, replaced with… nothingness.

  I wasn't a stranger to death, be it natural or violent. But still, it was the least favorite part of my job. Don’t get me wrong. In my business you learn to cope with it. But each death I visited managed to leave its mark on me. My sister, Nikki, didn't seem to have that problem. She dealt with it all the time. She was a CSI in Vegas and regularly covered autopsies as part of her job.

  My dad used to say that we've become dissociated with the cycle of life. That before death became a business, it wasn't as much of a stranger. Not that anyone ever welcomed death at the door. But just as children were born, people died. Family and friends came to visit for both. First to welcome, and then to say their goodbyes. Then parlors became living rooms and things changed. Whatever the case, I still never get used to it. As I began to place the towel back my finger brushed something red. Blood. Damn, and I wasn't wearing gloves! Then I was somewhere else again.