Steele of the Night (Daggers & Steele Book 7)

by Alex P. Berg

  “And is Crystal here?” asked Shay.

  “No. She’s on the evening shift,” said Jane. “But I can give you her flat number. She lives down at the Fae Arms Apartments.”

  “And is the housing choice circumstantial or intentional?” I asked.

  “Oh, she’s fae, if that’s what you’re asking,” said Jane. “Biggest damn eyes you’ve ever seen. Only girl I’ve ever had on my staff who gets more looks above the neck than below, but she does well for herself. Hold on and I’ll snag that address.”

  Jane leveraged herself off the bar, pulled on her shirt to make sure the slit was positioned properly, and headed back behind the beads. I watched her walk away. When I turned back to Shay, it was to find her smirking at me.

  “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

  “What? Me?” I said. “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I don’t blame you. It must be an evolutionary thing. Men of all the sentient species suffer the same problem. But it’s amusing. It’s like there’s a magnetic force that only occurs between them and male eyeballs, and once they reach a certain size, you pass an event horizon and there’s no way to look away.”

  “Look, Shay,” I said. “I tried not to stare. Really. But…come on.”

  “Relax,” she said with a smile. “I’m pulling your leg. I’m not trying to be intentionally hard on you. I’m just shooting for a rise. Though you should really firm up your resolve.”

  There was no way that collection of thinly veiled sexual metaphors was in any way unintentional. As we waited for Jane to return, I contemplated whether it was a good thing that I’d fallen for a woman who was able to make light of my straying eyes or a bad thing that I’d fallen for one who noticed in the first place.

  I think it was the former.

  19

  With a name like the Fae Arms, I’d pictured an idyllic residence, rustic and quaint, surrounded by moss-covered trees, blackberry bushes, and toadstool patches, serenaded by the melodies of rustling streams and cascading waterfalls and bathed in the multicolored glow of a mist-sparkled rainbow.

  I live in New Welwic. I should’ve known better.

  What I found was a two-story, centuries old hunk of stone and mortar, surrounded by piles of trash, lean-tos, and shifty-eyed hucksters, serenaded by the not-so-melodic cursing of drunks and mendicants and bathed in their golden showers. But at least the apartment complex had a courtyard with some trees in it, so there was that.

  Shay and I headed up the stairs to the second floor. I glanced at the numbers on the doors. “Which one did Jane say it was? Two twenty-five?”

  “Two thirty-five,” said Shay. “Didn’t you make a note of it in your spiral bound pad?”

  “I’ve been saving that for my detailed timeline of the Yellow Cobras and the places they’ve visited. No room for anything else.”

  “So basically, Jane told us and you promptly forgot. I wonder what could’ve distracted you?” Shay put a finger on her chin and peered upward.

  “Enough with that already,” I said. “I’m constantly addle-brained. This particular instance is no different.”

  “I’m sure. Either way, here we are.”

  Shay stopped in front of Crystal’s supposed apartment and knocked on the door. We waited.

  The Fae Arms was constructed in the form of a hollow square, with the apartments all facing the courtyard and open to the elements. I rested my hip against the railing and gazed into the central greenery. Toward the middle, half-hidden under a leafy green holly shrub that stubbornly resisted the winter’s onslaught, I spotted a small statue. If I squinted, it almost resembled a leprechaun. Somehow, I doubted I’d find a pot of gold nearby.

  “You think they only let fairies live here?” I asked.

  Shay turned from the door. “What kind of question is that? It’s illegal to deny someone housing access based on race.”

  “Which doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen,” I said. “New Welwic has a long history of housing discrimination. Maybe it’s not as common as it used to be, but before some of the legal reforms the city council passed, it was quite a problem. I’m surprised your parents never talked to you about it.”

  “And what were they going to tell me?” said Shay. “Hey kid, you’re mixed race, which means you’ll come across the occasional douchebag who thinks they’re better than you based on that fact alone?”

  “Well, not in those words specifically, but yes,” I said. “It’s a harsh lesson to learn but a valuable one.”

  “It’s also an easy one to learn on your own,” said Shay. “Anyone who pays attention figures it out sooner or later. Not that I’ve ever been discriminated against based on my race, mind you. Humans and elves share the hilltop as far as privilege is concerned, dark elves not withstanding. Now, discrimination based on my sex is another thing entirely.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that,” I said. “I was a pretty big jerk when we first met, wasn’t I?”

  “You weren’t the worst. Far from it. And I think your standoffishness was rooted in emotional issues far stronger than casual sexism.”

  “I’d like to think so,” I said. “I’d also like to think the lot of those are behind me. Either way, it has to feel good for you to have broken that glass ceiling. As far as I know, you’re the first female captain the Fifth’s ever had.”

  Shay rolled her eyes. “Oh, wonderful. As if I needed any more pressure.” She knocked on the door again.

  “Seriously, you should be proud,” I said. “It’s a big deal, interim label or not.”

  “Hey!”

  The cry cut through the air, raspy and deep. I swiveled my head to find a bulky, unfortunate mixed breed shambling down the hall toward us—unfortunate in the sense that he’d inherited the worst elements of whatever heritage he possessed. His skin glistened with a pale grayish-green hue, and his shock of red hair stuck out wildly. His eyes pointed different directions, and his lower jaw protruded about an inch farther than it should’ve. I should’ve smelled him coming, but it never registered that the approaching wave of garlic and stale gym odor was humanoid in origin.

  “You there!” he shouted as he approached. “You here to see Crystal? Well, you need to tell her to get her shit together, because I’m tired of it. Tired, you hear me?”

  “Excuse me?” I said.

  “Crystal, knucklehead,” he rumbled. “You think I’m playing around? Because I’m not. I’m not above harassing her friends if that’s what it takes to get her to pay rent.”

  Dawn broke over my confusion. “Oh. Sorry, pal, but we’re not her friends. We’re with the NWPD.” I snagged my badge from my jacket and flashed it.

  Hunched and Ugly—Hugly?—threw his hands up in the air. “Oh, great. So not only is that little tramp behind on her rent, but she’s in trouble with the police, too. Fantastic!”

  “Let’s keep the sexist, disparaging remarks to a minimum unless you know something we don’t,” said Shay. “Now, based on your attitude, I’m guessing Crystal’s not in right now?”

  Hugly crossed his arms and grumbled. “Hell, what do I know. That little bi—er, I mean…she’s never around when I check. Keeps the oddest hours. Locks herself up tight in her apartment when she’s here and sneaks off quick as a cockroach when she isn’t. Not to mention she’s gone at least half the time, anyway. Maybe I should kick her out. I’ll never get what she owes me out of her stuff if I do, though…”

  I pursed my lips. Crystal wasn’t paying her rent? Jane had mentioned she fared well for herself, and she worked the prime shift at the bar.

  “We need to ask her a few questions about one of the patrons who visited the bar where she works,” said Shay. “I don’t suppose you’d know where we might find her?”

  “Oh, I know exactly where you’ll find her,” said Hugly. “Probably at her boyfriend’s apartment, wherever that is. Or at that rock club they’re always hanging out at. What’s the name? The Moxy?
Not that it matters. I can’t harass her on someone else’s property.”

  I’d argue that from a legal perspective, he couldn’t harass Crystal even on his own property, but that wasn’t the most pertinent portion of his statement. “Wait…the Moxy? Who’s Crystal’s boyfriend?”

  “I don’t know,” said Hugly. “Some rocker idiot. Feathery blond hair, dark eyebrows, big nose. Always wearing something with leather on it or with the shirtsleeves missing. I’ve seen him hanging around here more times than I can count.”

  Hopefully that last bit wasn’t a commentary on his math skills. I turned to Steele. “That sounds like Chaz. Hugly—I mean, er…you. Landlord. Whatever your name is. I don’t suppose this boyfriend dropped by last night—maybe with the rest of his band mates in tow? An elf with platinum blond hair, a guy with long brown braids, and another wiry, lean one with black locks?”

  Hugly eyed me curiously but shook his head. “Nobody that I know of. Then again, I’m one of those weirdoes who actually likes to sleep during the night, so what the hell do I know?”

  “Thanks, pal. Steele?” I nodded toward the stairwell.

  We left. Once we’d exited earshot, Shay asked the obvious question. “So, if Chaz was dating Crystal, did his wife Heather know? Because if she did, that throws her entire testimony into question—and gives her a potential motive for murder.”

  “You’re getting better at this gig,” I said. “But I’m also curious about her rent situation. Jane made it sound like she was a top earner. Why the discrepancy?”

  “Only one way to find out,” said Shay.

  I tapped the side of my head. “Great minds think alike. Let’s see if anyone back at the Moxy has a bead on her.”

  20

  Shay and I entered through the Moxy’s backdoor, skirting the Yellow Cobra’s ready room en route to the music hall. As we passed through the backstage portions of the club, we noticed Dennis resting on a couch a few feet off the main stage, nestled among the bunched curtains, pulleys, levers, and other controls. He spun a drumstick idly in one of his massive hands, humming a tune as he stared at the rafters.

  “Big D,” I said as we approached. “What’s happening?”

  He flicked his eyes down upon hearing my voice, but he didn’t register any surprise. “Oh. You’re back. Steele and…what was it? Daggers?”

  “That’s right.” I glanced at the stage, upon which rested the drum set and guitar from earlier. “Where’s Diamond? You two decided you’d practiced enough for one day?”

  “Benson makes that choice, not us,” said Big D. “And if it was up to him, we would be. But you’ve had a little something to say about that, haven’t you?”

  I blinked. I didn’t think Shay had sent any cease and desist orders the Moxy’s way. “Excuse me?”

  “He’s probably referring to Quinto and Rodgers,” said Steele.

  “Bingo,” said Big D, flicking a finger at Shay. “The big guy and his too-cheery friend. It’s hard to get into a rhythm when you keep getting interrupted and peppered with questions. It’s distracting having those two snooping around.”

  I’d forgotten Shay had sent the pair back here. Hopefully they’d unearthed something of use. “Well, I’m sorry if our investigation into the murder of one of your friends is an inconvenience to you.”

  At least Big D had the decency to look sheepish. “Sorry. Chaz never talked to me much, but…you’re right. To be fair, it’s not entirely your pals’ fault. Diamond keeps slipping off into the shadows to canoodle with his girlfriend.”

  A better segue had never been presented. “Speaking of girlfriends, we’re trying to track down a bartender from Leopard Jane’s. Fairy, big eyes, goes by the name of Crystal.”

  Big D looked at me like I was dense. “Uh…yeah. Who do you think Diamond’s girlfriend is?”

  Dennis might as well have smacked me over the head with the information. I glanced at Shay. “You know, I feel like I should’ve made that connection earlier.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Shay. “It only clicked for me when Dennis mentioned Diamond smooching his lady pal in the shadows.”

  Big D didn’t let his confused expression go anywhere. “Huh?”

  “A miscommunication,” said Shay. “Where can we find Crystal and Diamond?”

  Dennis pointed across the stage. “Somewhere on that side, I guess. The darker the corner, the better. Normally they hide out in the ready room, but, ah…we haven’t cleaned it yet. It has a bit of an aroma.”

  I thanked Dennis and spearheaded our tracking effort, crossing the stage and diving into the backstage portions on the other side. Thankfully, despite the gloom it wasn’t difficult to track our quarry. I simply followed the sounds of smooching and the occasional feminine giggle.

  I found them in a dark corner as advertised, the presumed Crystal with her back to the wall and Diamond pinning her there—though not against her will judging by her pleasurable moans. Diamond buried his face in her neck, and he’d pushed her shirt up to her collar bone, his hands busy caressing her breadwinners.

  I don’t think they noticed me. I cleared my throat.

  Diamond jumped back. Crystal eeked and pulled her shirt into place.

  Diamond stammered and tried to collect himself. “Oh. Hey, brah. Brahs. I mean, uh… Detectives, ah…”

  Shay apparently didn’t feel like making introductions again. “Diamond, why don’t you skedaddle back to the stage? Dennis is looking forlorn. Maybe you could continue practicing your tunes.”

  “Oh,” he said, glancing at his girlfriend. “Well, actually, I was—”

  “That’s me being nice and telling you to get lost while we talk to Crystal,” said Shay. “Got it?”

  Diamond nodded, gave his girlfriend a longing look, and scooted.

  Shay stepped forward. “Crystal, right?”

  The young woman nodded, adjusting the airy white blouse she wore over a black checkered miniskirt. A single lock of dyed-black hair cut across her otherwise ash blonde bangs, and Jane hadn’t lied about her eyes. They were big enough to dive into—pale golden-grey orbs that nearly matched her hair.

  “I’m Steele, this is Daggers,” said Shay. “We’re with the police, investigating Chaz Willy Wilson’s death.”

  Crystal left whatever feelings of embarrassment from being caught bare-chested at the door. “Oh my gosh, I know, right? How crazy is that? He was at Jane’s just last night!”

  “We understand you served him,” I said.

  “Yeah, right,” said Crystal. “I usually do, him and all the other Cobra guys. It’s how I met Diamond. He’s so dreamy, isn’t he?”

  Shay neglected to weigh in. “So what can you tell us about last night, specifically?”

  “Um…I’m not sure,” said Crystal. “What do you mean?”

  “We’re trying to figure out what happened to Chaz,” said Shay. “What led to his death. Part of that is figuring out where he went, who he saw, what he took part in. His band mates are too intoxicated to remember the events of last night.”

  Crystal nodded vigorously. “Gotcha. I understand. Well, let’s see. Chaz and the other guys showed up at Jane’s at about…eleven, I’d say? They seemed pretty wasted, just like you said, even when they arrived. I mean, we probably shouldn’t have served them, but Jane’s not in the business of losing money, or so she always says. Anyway, they were all kind of rowdy. Chaz especially. He was, like…I don’t know. In a mean mood, I guess?”

  “What do you mean by that?” I asked.

  Crystal swept her bangs to the side and out of her face. “He snapped a lot. Cursed a lot, too. He’s not normally like that. He even got into a fight with B. B.”

  “He did?” said Shay. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” said Crystal. “I couldn’t hear anything. It was way too loud. And there weren’t any fists or anything, just shoving. But I could tell they were upset.”

  That bit of knowledge felt noteworthy
, so I took note of it. Literally. In my pad. “Jane said the band left together at around midnight. Any chance you know where?”

  Crystal’s brow furrowed. She looked as if she might hurt herself thinking. I got the impression she didn’t practice the activity often.

  She snapped her fingers. “Oh. I do remember. Sammy mentioned the Raccoon Ranch.”

  “The what now?”

  “It’s a brothel, down on Flatley with all the others,” said Crystal.

  The Raccoon Ranch? A brothel? Of course it was. “Do the Cobras go there often?”

  “I…think so?” said Crystal.

  “Given their lifestyle, I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised,” said Shay. “Do you have any idea if Chaz’s wife, Heather, knew about his…indiscretions?”

  “I don’t really know,” said Crystal. “I mean, it would be pretty hard for her not to. They were separated, I think. I assume she just accepted it, right?”

  Shay glanced back toward the stage. When she spoke, her tone had softened. “What do you see in him, Crystal?”

  “Who?” She scrunched her brow. “Oh. You mean Diamond? He’s a sweetheart. Such a dreamer. I know he’s not famous yet, but I have faith in him. He’s got so much talent. I know he’s going to strike it big one day, as soon as someone gives him his first break.”

  “He’s using you,” said Shay.

  Crystal’s eyes widened, if that was possible. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re behind on your rent,” said Shay. “You shouldn’t be with how much you’re making. You’re spending it on Diamond, aren’t you? Supporting his lifestyle. You could do better.”

  Crystal crossed her arms. Her body temperature dropped ten degrees. “Diamond’s going to be a star.”

  “Hey. Steele! Daggers!”

  I turned at the sound of Quinto’s hearty rumble to find the big man waving at us from the edge of the stage. We gave Crystal our thanks and joined him.

  “Heard you’d arrived. Through the grapevine.” Quinto shot a thumb toward Big D, who’d moved back to the drum set and was fiddling with the high-hat.

  “Had a lead that led us back here,” said Shay. “Diamond’s girlfriend. How have you guys fared?”