city of dragons 07 - fire and flood

by Val St. Crowe

  I did try to talk to Lachlan about his dad, but he wouldn’t engage with me on the subject. I was confused about it all. I knew Lachlan had good reasons to be angry with his father, and I hadn’t quite cared for whatever it was that he’d said at the end about magical creatures and going down a path and consequences. But I did think that it was possible Lachlan was being too hard on his father. After all, the man was the only father than Lachlan was ever going to have, and Nathaniel wasn’t going to live forever. Better to forgive a few slights and have a family member in your life than cut him off and never reconcile with him, I thought.

  Of course, I had to admit that it would take a lot for me to forgive my grandparents. I didn’t know the whole story with Lachlan and Nathaniel. Until I did, I couldn’t pass judgment. I only wished that Lachlan would be more forthcoming about it all.

  Back at the prison, we poked around Tim’s cell a little bit, looking for any way that someone might have gotten in. Lachlan was looking for a hidden tunnel or passageway, but he didn’t find anything like that.

  “Maybe it was the Green King,” I said.

  “Maybe,” said Lachlan. “Whoever did it, I’m thinking they must have used magic. If they drugged him before he got in the cell somehow, slipped him the barbiturates, then all they’d need to do is to be close enough to use telekinesis to smother Timmy with the pillow. The person could have been standing outside the window. They could have been standing outside the cell.”

  “That’s true,” I said. “Guess that takes away the fun of a locked-door mystery, though, bringing magic into the equation.”

  “It does,” said Lachlan blandly.

  “What does?” said Zach, appearing at the door to the cell. “Sorry that took me so long.” When we’d arrived, Zach had let us into the cell, but then he’d been called away to deal with a fight that had broken out in the yard. They needed some extra bodies to keep everyone in line. He’d promised to return.

  “Not a problem,” said Lachlan. “Listen, got a question for you. Is anything done to suppress magic within the walls of the prison?”

  Zach looked taken aback. “Magic? You mean like with those talismans and stuff, like what those witches do?”

  “Mages,” I said, correcting him almost out of habit. Ophelia didn’t like the word witch. Said it had negative connotations.

  Lachlan shot me a look as if to say, Stop antagonizing the guy who’s helping us.

  I sighed, but I shut up.

  “Yeah,” said Lachlan. “Like talismans.”

  “Well, people aren’t supposed to bring them into the prison,” said Zach. “Anyone visiting gets them taken away.”

  “They, um, didn’t take ours,” said Lachlan, drawing the talisman that he wore out of his shirt. It was the one that I’d gotten made for him after he was worried about not being powerful enough to protect Wyatt without me. All of us had gone to the crypt of my ancestors for artifacts. Lachlan was still wearing it, but now he was the blood dragon, and he was crazy powerful in his own right. Possibly more powerful than me. Maybe breathing fire was just one of his powers. We didn’t know all the things he could do.

  “Well, you’re here on official business,” said Zach.

  Except we weren’t official at all. We worked for the SCPD, who had no jurisdiction all the way on the other side of the country.

  “So, what we’re saying is that security on the talismans is a little lax,” said Lachlan.

  Zach’s shoulders sagged. “I guess. We don’t know a lot about magic in these parts, I’m afraid. We’d have trouble distinguishing a talisman from a regular necklace. Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, I’m just thinking that whoever killed Tim probably used magic,” said Lachlan. “That’s the only thing that really makes sense. How else would someone smother a guy in a locked cell?”

  A look of astonishment came over Zach’s face. “Well, I guess you’re right.”

  “Those two suspects you were telling us about earlier,” said Lachlan. “Would either of them have access to magic?”

  Zach shrugged. “I really couldn’t say.”

  Lachlan ran a hand through his hair, turning in a circle in the cell. “Well, we’ll just have to find out. It’s got to be magic. After all, no one else has died in this prison this year.”

  Zach fidgeted.

  “What?” I said.

  Zach gave us an aw-shucks expression. “There was another death this year.”

  “Really?” said Lachlan.

  “Not a murder,” said Zach. “A suicide.”

  “What happened?” said Lachlan.

  “Uh, well, it was really the damndest thing,” said Zach. “This guy named Jonah Poole, he sort of… cooked himself.”

  “What?” I said.

  “He stuck himself under the showers in the hot water,” said Zach. “Apparently, the water here is really hot. We got a crazy kind of hot water heater. Real powerful. Anyway, Jonah just stood under that water until he, uh, well, died. It was pretty horrible to look at. His skin was peeling off.”

  “That’s not a suicide,” said Lachlan. “No one does that of their own volition.”

  “It was ruled a suicide,” said Zach. “He was in the showers alone.”

  “Really,” said Lachlan. “Is that typical? For inmates to get into the showers alone?”

  “Well, of course not,” said Zach. “He shouldn’t have been in there. If anyone had known he was in there, then they would have stopped him from killing himself.”

  “Just because he was alone doesn’t mean that someone didn’t force him to do it,” said Lachlan. “Do you know anything about compulsion magic?”

  Zach’s eyes got big. “Compul-what?”

  Lachlan sighed. “This guy who you suspect is killing people. What was his name? Larry?”

  “Levi,” said Zach. “Levi Bradley.”

  “That one,” said Lachlan. “Maybe he did it.”

  “No,” said Zach. “He couldn’t have done it. We checked into him. He was sick with the stomach bug that day. Vomiting like crazy. He was in the infirmary.”

  “And how far is the infirmary from the showers?”

  Zach’s lips parted. “Uh, you mean how long it takes to walk from one to the other?”

  “More how close they are in feet, regardless of the pathways between them. A person can do magic in a certain radius. We’re trying to figure out if it might be in that radius.”

  “You put it that way, they’re not that far apart,” said Zach.

  “I think we’d like to talk to Mr. Bradley,” said Lachlan.

  * * *

  They brought Levi Bradley in handcuffed. He was wearing the typical orange prison jumpsuit. He was a burly man with a receding hair line. He was missing one of his front teeth and it had been replaced by a gold tooth. When he was escorted in by guards, he sort of smiled at us, but it mostly looked like an animal baring its teeth.

  I had to admit that Bradley was kind of scary. I could easily picture him running around and killing people, just for the fun of it. He looked like the guy under the mask in the slasher movie.

  “Hi there, Mr, Bradley,” said Lachlan. “Why don’t you have a seat?” We were in an interrogation room, which wasn’t very big. There was a small window on one wall, high up so that it only let in a bit of light. The rest of the walls were unadorned—cement blocks painted dull green. There was a rectangular table in the center of the room. Lachlan and I sat at one end.

  Bradley was at the other. He looked down at the chair that had been provided for him. He didn’t sit. He bared his teeth again and stayed standing.

  Lachlan rolled his eyes at the show of defiance and seemed to decide to let it slide. “We’ve got some questions for you, Mr. Bradley. I’m Detective Lachlan Flint and this is my associate, Penny Caspian.”

  Bradley shrugged, as if to say, What of it? But he didn’t speak.

  When Lachlan spoke again, his Texas accent was very prominent, a lazy drawl that invited Bradley to consider himself
Lachlan’s best buddy. “I only mention the chair because I want you to be comfortable, you know. But if you want to stand…” Lachlan shrugged. “Fine by me.” He smiled at Bradley conspiratorially, as if they were sharing some kind of secret.

  Bradley was unmoved by any of this. He didn’t respond. Simply stared straight ahead.

  “Why don’t you tell us about Jonah Poole?” said Lachlan.

  Nothing from Bradley.

  Abruptly, there was a loud noise above our heads. I looked up to see a dragon at the window.

  No, two dragons. No, three. Four. They were crowding against the window, dragging their claws over the glass and making a horrid screeching noise. One of them opened its mouth and blew out fire.

  Bradley flinched in spite of himself.

  Lachlan laughed. “Oh, don’t mind the dragons. Their bark’s worse than their bite. They’re perfectly tame. Do whatever I say, they do.” He got up and crossed to the window. He reached up and pressed three fingers against the glass.

  The dragons calmed down. They backed away from the window.

  Bradley furrowed his brow. “How’d you do that?” His voice was a deep baritone.

  Lachlan shrugged. “I got my ways.” He sat back down. “Sure you don’t want to sit?”

  Bradley hesitated. And then he sat down. “Look, I don’t know anything about Jonah Poole. I was sick that day, and people still want to blame it on me.”

  “Who wants to blame you?” said Lachlan.

  “The guards at the jail,” said Bradley. “The police.”

  “And what do they blame you for?”

  “They think I killed him.”

  “And did you?”

  “How could I? I was in the infirmary all day vomiting.”

  “Maybe you used magic,” said Lachlan.

  Bradley furrowed his brow, looking confused. “Magic? What would make you think I was messed up in that?”

  “You don’t have to be in the same room as someone to use magic on them,” said Lachlan, “just within a small radius. Maybe you were close enough that day.”

  “I don’t do magic,” said Bradley.

  “What about Tim Abbott?” said Lachlan.

  “What about him?”

  “Did you kill him?”

  “Are you serious about this, man? How would I have gotten into his cell?”

  “You use magic, you don’t need to get in his cell,” said Lachlan. “You could have done it from outside, easily enough.”

  “Well, I couldn’t have even got there. I was locked up in my cell all night. How am I supposed to get out of there?”

  “What did you think about Tim?” said Lachlan.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Did you like him?”

  “I didn’t know the kid, okay?” said Bradley. “But from what I hear, he killed a girl. A little girl. I can’t say that knowing he did that endears him to me, you know? But I will say that it doesn’t endear him to most people in the prison either. Anyone who had a chance would probably snuff that one out. He was a waste of air.”

  * * *

  After they took Bradley out, they brought in Simon Wells, who was the purported head of the drug ring in the jail. Wells was a short man with big shoulders. He was attractive and clean, with coiffed dark hair and an easy grin. They brought him in handcuffed as well. As soon as they let go of him, he sat down and rested his handcuffed hands on the table.

  “Well, well,” he said. “If I’d have known I was going to be brought in here with a pretty lady like you, I wouldn’t have put up so much of a fight.” He winked at me.

  I was getting pretty damned sick of strange men winking at me. I glowered at him.

  He grinned back.

  Lachlan eyed him. “We understand you run a pretty successful business in the prison,” he said.

  “They don’t let us see pretty ladies very often, you realize,” said Wells without taking his eyes off me. “You know why that is? Because seeing a pretty lady, it reminds you of the good things in life. It reminds you of love and of beauty and of your mother and of flowers and shit. And that kind of thinking gives a man hope. And a man with hope is dangerous. They like to keep us all down between these walls.”

  “Right,” said Lachlan, “from what I understand, you’re raking in millions of dollars a year on this business. So, you’re really being kept down.”

  “What’s your name, sweet thing?” said Wells.

  Lachlan folded his arms over his chest. “Mr. Wells? Look over here.”

  Wells didn’t.

  I leaned across the table and grinned at him, but my grin was a lot more like Bradley’s had been. Baring my teeth. “My name’s Penny Caspian. This is Detective Lachlan Flint. We’re here to ask you a few questions.”

  “Penny,” whispered Wells. “Nice name. Don’t meet too many Pennys.”

  “Mr. Wells,” said Lachlan, “was Tim Abbott a customer of yours?”

  “You have a boyfriend, Penny?” said Wells.

  I pressed my lips together.

  Lachlan’s nostrils flared. “If you don’t cooperate with us, Mr. Wells, we’ll be forced to have you sent back to your cell.”

  “Even if you do have a boyfriend,” said Wells, “we don’t have to tell him anything. Whatever happens between you and me can be our little secret, sweetheart. I’d take it to the grave.”

  He was starting to get under my skin, but I didn’t want to let him know that for fear that it would make him worse. But I didn’t like what he was intimating. It made me feel a little violated just hearing it. It brought back memories of Alastair, my ex-husband, who used to treat me like crap.

  “If I were you, Mr. Wells,” I said, “I’d answer the detective’s questions.”

  “We hear that he was late on his bills,” said Lachlan.

  Wells looked me over again. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip.

  “You have him killed to teach him a lesson?” said Lachlan. “You smuggle in a magical talisman along with your product?”

  “I’m just imagining you without your clothes, Penny,” said Wells.

  Inwardly, my body convulsed, and I almost reached out with magic and squeezed his damned throat. I managed to reel myself in just in time.

  Lachlan let out a breath, and a wisp of smoke came out with it. He was obviously pretty pissed at Wells too.

  And with good reason, considering the dick gave us nothing. He didn’t answer a single question, wouldn’t give up anything. He was obviously a pro at maneuvering himself out of interrogation.

  After they took Wells away, Lachlan and I stayed in the interrogation room alone for a moment, just trying to compose ourselves.

  Lachlan got up and went to the window, where the dragons were still gathered, although they were all lying down and being quiet. He peered up at them. “You should know I was two seconds from ripping Wells’s throat out. The things he said to you are not okay.”

  “Oh, believe me, I know,” I said.

  “I just didn’t want you to feel as if I wasn’t going to defend you,” he said. “I knew if I showed Wells that I was bothered, he’d have the upper hand. He’d use that to control me.”

  “I understand,” I said. “I was struggling not to let on how upset I was.”

  “Bastard,” said Lachlan.

  “So,” I said, “you like him for the murder?”

  “Oh, head of the suspect list for me right now,” he said.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Debra was sitting in the living room of Lachlan’s father’s house, looking nervous.

  I strode across the room and handed her the soda that I’d gone to fetch from the kitchen for her.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  Lachlan sat across the room from her on one of the couches. The room had two couches, each on opposite walls. There was a big picture window next to one of the couches, a mirror behind the other. Lachlan was sitting near the window. I sat down next to him.

  “It’s better if Steve doesn’t
know I’m talking to you,” said Debra into her drink. “That’s why I came here. I left the girls with my mother, and I came over so that we could talk. We got cut short last time.”

  “We did,” said Lachlan. “It’s good that you’re here. I have more questions for you.”

  I wasn’t sure that sneaking around to talk to your ex-husband when you’d snuck around with your current husband in the past was a great plan. On the other hand, maybe it spoke to a certain kind of character type. Then I scolded myself, because that wasn’t nice. If one of my children had killed the other, I don’t know what I’d do. I like to think that I would never be unfaithful, but—

  Oh, who was I kidding? Cheat on Lachlan? Never in a million years.

  Still, I shouldn’t think mean thoughts about Debra. I should take the high ground. I drew in a breath, trying to focus.

  “I thought you would,” Debra was saying. “So, that’s why I came over.”

  I pursed my lips. She was repeating herself.

  Debra set down her soda and linked her hands over her knees. “What do you want to know?”

  “Well,” said Lachlan, “do you have any idea of who might want to hurt Tim? Did he ever talk about being afraid of people at the prison?”

  “Not at the prison, not really,” she said. “Um, I think he was freaked out after that man committed suicide. He talked about it as if he’d seen it, which he hadn’t, of course. Steve was first on the scene with that body, and he said no one was in the shower except that Poole man, who was dead, and the guard who found him, Jim Acres. Steve was literally the second person to see the body, and it was carted off before anyone else saw it.”

  “He was freaked out? Like he was afraid?” said Lachlan.

  “I… he went on about it a long time on the phone,” she said. “He was really affected by it, really shaken up.”