Wizard Unleashed

by Jamie McFarlane

  Just then, the door pushed open and two uniformed officers entered, followed by Lieutenant Dukats. Daphne moved to intercept, growling as an officer placed his hand on the butt of his pistol and held his arm out to block her.

  Three large men appeared in the hallway behind Dukats, their musky smell a dead giveaway. They were part of Joe's pack and would respond to whatever orders he gave.

  "Joe Lozano, you're under arrest for the murder of George Rosen," Dukats said.

  I frowned. "That's crazy. How do you figure Joe for this? He was attacked by the same brutes that took out Rosen."

  "I don't know what you're doing in here, Slade," Dukats said. "But stay out of this. The rest of you need to clear out unless you're looking for a free trip downtown."

  "Don't say a word, Joe," Gabriella said.

  "Do you want me to arrest you for obstruction of justice?" Dukats fired back at Gabriella. The smell of adrenaline in the room was palpable and I wasn't surprised at Dukats' edgy tone.

  Dukats fury was countered by Gabriella’s perfect calm. "Joe is my client, Lieutenant Dukats."

  "Is that right, Lozano?" Dukats asked.

  Joe put his hands up. "I can't afford a lawyer."

  Gabriella retrieved a pair of jeans from a nearby shelf and plucked a wallet from them. She extracted a pair of twenties and tossed both jeans and wallet onto the bed. "I'm running a special for old friends today. Consider me retained. Now get dressed and tell your friends to stand down. My fee for resisting arrest is higher than false imprisonment."

  For a moment, the world seemed to stand still while Joe considered the people in the room. His odds were five on three. While his pack members didn't have guns, I was sure the officers were no match.

  Joe smiled sanguinely. "Squirrel, take the boys back to the Super-8. The lieutenant and I go way back. She wouldn't be here if she didn't have to be."

  "You sure?" A short, balding, barrel-chested man with a thick, rusty beard pushed through his taller compatriots.

  "What about me?" Daphne asked.

  "Go with Squirrel," Joe said. "You can run comms between the wizard and me. You got this, Squirrel?"

  "You heard the man. Move it." With broad, powerful arms Squirrel pushed the growing crowd away from the door. "Daphne, on my six," he called over his shoulder as he disappeared down the hall.

  "Take him into custody, officer," Dukats said.

  "Clothing?" Gabriella asked. "It’s winter out there."

  "Fine."

  Gabriella stepped in front of Dukats. "What do you have on my client, Lieutenant?"

  "George Rosen was shot. Bullet matches the gun we pulled from the scene. Want to guess who that gun is registered to? " she said.

  Joe nodded. "Gun is mine."

  "Stop talking, Joe," Gabriella said.

  "I didn't use the weapon. I was patrolling the house - as per my agreement with Rosen - and the next thing I knew, I woke up here. My fingerprints will be all over that gun."

  "If you blacked out, how do you know you didn't shoot him?" Dukats asked.

  "My client has nothing to say," Gabriella said before Joe could answer. "Tell me, Lieutenant. I saw Rosen's body last night. It didn't look to me like he died of a gunshot wound. Are you sure that's what killed him?"

  "I am until I have a better theory," she said.

  While we'd been talking, Joe had pulled on a t-shirt, jeans and was lacing up heavy work boots.

  "I'll need access to the coroner's report on Rosen," Gabriella said.

  "Not my department," Dukats said.

  "What about whoever attacked Oppelt and Omer?" I asked. "You're missing the bigger picture."

  "Maybe you weren't here about five minutes ago," Dukats said. "That hallway was clogged with high-protein meatheads."

  "My crew was driving up from Texas last night," Joe said.

  "Can you prove that?" Dukats fired back.

  "Joe!" Gabriella snapped. "Not another word."

  "Thanks for the ride," Gabriella said. I'd dropped her in front of the eight story Branaird building – so named after the family of one of the owners of the firm where Gabriella was a junior partner.

  "I don't see why they're requiring you to come in today," I said. "What with everything that's going on."

  "Rosen was a client. Geoff is all worked up. Somehow this has become my fault." Gabriella reported directly to Geoff Benson, the second name on the firm Branaird, Benson and Skaggs.

  "Just call me when you're off. I'll come grab you," I said.

  Gabriella gave me a quick peck on the cheek and slid out of the truck. She'd chosen a warm knit, form fitting, dark-red dress and tall black boots with marginally practical heels.

  I pulled into the light downtown traffic. Most people had the good sense to stay home for the first big snow of the season. Although, it could also have been the fact that we were only three days from Christmas. That reminded me. I hadn't shopped for either Gabriella or Clarita. Shopping would have to wait, however, as I'd promised Dukats I'd drop by to give a statement. I turned toward the police station and - just as importantly - my favorite coffee shack. No sooner had I pulled into the south parking lot of the station with my coffee when my phone rang.

  "Did you leave something in the truck?" I asked, my caller ID having identified the caller as Gabriella.

  "No. Come get me." Her voice was laden with stress and tears.

  "I'll be right there." Before I could ask anything further, she hung up. I punched the accelerator and slid through a mound of snow piled up by a plow. The old Suburban had plenty of power and new tires. Clods of ice flew out behind the vehicle as I accelerated to the opposite side of the four-lane street.

  A trip that took over twenty minutes with a coffee stop, I could cover in less than five if I was willing to push it. There's nothing a man isn't willing to do when his girl calls for help – especially if he isn't completely sure where he fits into her universe. Throwing caution to the wind, I ran yellow lights and generally disobeyed every good rule of safe driving as I raced to rescue my damsel.

  When I pulled up in front of the Branaird building, Gabriella rushed out from beneath the overhang and opened the passenger door. Red streaks around her eyes and smudged mascara told me at least part of the story.

  "What happened?" I asked as she climbed into the truck, all the time mentally chastising myself for not allowing her to even get seated before I jumped on her.

  She closed the door. "Drive."

  I pulled back into traffic, knowing better than to push for more information.

  "He fired me," she said, her voice quavering in equal parts anger and frustration.

  "For what?"

  "Geoff got a call from someone high up in the P.D. about me representing Joe. He said he didn't want the firm's name dragged into it and I was to drop Joe."

  "Or he'd fire you?"

  "Yes." She angrily wiped tears from her eyes.

  "Kind of makes you want to rethink your stance on curses, doesn't it?"

  "Felix," Gabriella said, scandalized.

  "Genital warts are curable, right?" I asked.

  "That's horrible. I'd never." She laughed despite herself.

  I waggled my eyebrows. "Not even once?"

  "I'd think of all people, you should be glad I have a strict policy against such magic," she said.

  "Ouch."

  She took a deep breath. "Thank you for coming. I've never been so humiliated in my life. He yelled at me in front of all the other junior partners. I just ran out."

  "I was headed over to the station to give my statement about last night. I could do it another time."

  "No. I was going to go after work. Might as well get it over with."

  "We'll get through this." I said, resting my hand on her thigh.

  "What am I going to do? Geoff said he was going to ruin me. I won't be able to get a job in Leotown."

  "How in the world did things get that heated so quickly?" I was stunned. "Was he already pissed about something el
se?"

  "He wasn't that happy when I called about Rosen, but I didn't have a sense he thought I had anything to do with it."

  "Of course you didn't," I said. "That's ridiculous."

  "And yes, he was already angry when I got there. When he heard I was in the office he came out and laid into me," she said. "You remember that Chicago firm – Babbott and Adajania?"

  "The ones who were representing that girl who broke out of jail? What was her name, Missy?" Somewhere in the back of my mind, the name Adajania rang a bell, but I couldn’t place it.

  "Right, Missy Fitzhugh," Gabriella said. "Apparently, Rosen was holding the artifact for someone that firm represents. They claim he didn't have the rights to sell it and are threatening the firm."

  "That's a heck of a coincidence," I said as I pulled back into the P.D.'s parking lot. "What's the next step with Joe?"

  "They haven't formally charged him with anything," Gabriella explained as we walked into the municipal building and approached the officer on duty.

  The duty officer looked up. "May I help you?"

  "Here to see Lieutenant Dukats," I said.

  "Have a seat."

  "How long can they hold him?"

  "Two days," she said as we moved to the side, preferring to stand. "The gunshot wound gave them enough evidence to convince a judge he should be held."

  "I don't know Joe that well, but I'm certain if he was going to kill someone, it wouldn't be like the torture we saw," I said.

  The buzzing of an electronic door opening announced Dukats' arrival. "Thank you for coming down. I wasn't sure if I was going to have to compel you, given this morning's dust-up at the hospital." She looked stressed.

  "You have the wrong guy," I said. "Best we get you back onto the right track."

  "I hope you're right," she said. "Lozano was a quality guy and I know he hit a rough patch, but I'd like to believe he's not involved."

  If you're a mundane, it's difficult to lie to a witch or a wizard. Some people are so detached from their feelings that they can pull it off. Not the case for Dukats. She was more like Joe had been when I first met him as a patrolman - forthright and focused on the truth. If anything, she was a bit more seasoned and subtle in her approach.

  I gestured forward. "Lead the way."

  As expected, Dukats split us up and asked us to write out our recollection of the events. I did my best and waited for what seemed an eternity after handing it back.

  "Tell me about the men you say tossed Officer Omer across the room," she said.

  "I wish I could. They seemed huge, but you know how impressions can be off when things are chaotic - and it was dark. I thought Oppelt was in trouble because he kept firing and the guy didn't stop, so I grabbed Omer's pepper spray and just kept my finger on the trigger," I said. "Why? Is Oppelt saying it happened different than that?"

  "No. He was quite complimentary of your quick thinking. He said the man must have been wearing armor because the bullets weren't stopping him – barely slowed him down," she said. "Tell me, what do you remember about how they exited the dwelling?"

  "Hole in the back wall." I knew what she was driving at, but I wasn't about to admit the ogres had bashed their way through the back wall as they'd fled.

  "Where did this hole come from?"

  "There was definitely a hole in the back of the house when I got there," I said. It was true, although not the entire truth. There had been a hole in the back wall, the giants just happened to make a new one when they exited. "Maybe they hit it with a car?"

  "No car tracks. Slade, you're holding out on me, I can feel it," she said. "My officers said the men were eight feet tall."

  "Sounds big," I said. "It all happened pretty quickly. They were plenty big, though."

  "My officers are trained to pick up on these details," Dukats said. "If they say eight-feet, that's what they mean. Dammit, Slade, this is like the Barrios murders the FBI picked up last year. You're in it somehow. I don't know how, but you're not going to hide behind the feds this time." She glared at the sound of a knock on the door.

  "Stay put," she said as she slipped out. A few minutes later she opened the door. "What killed Rosen? And, don't be coy, dammit! People are dying."

  "What happened?" I asked.

  "There's another body."

  Chapter 6

  Fagin

  Dukats held her phone so we could see the screen. It showed the body of a desiccated woman, age impossible to determine due to its condition. My eye was drawn to a purple streak in her hair.

  "That's completely different," I said. "Rosen's body was beaten to a pulp. Why do you think they're related?"

  Dukats had brought Gabriella and me into her office and was sitting on the edge of her desk. Her body posture suggested she wanted to show us she was treating us as equals, but she was a poor actor.

  "She had George Rosen's wallet in her purse," Dukats said. "Valverde, you consider yourself a witch. Is this witchcraft?"

  "Nothing I'm familiar with," Gabriella said. "My sisters wouldn't harm anyone. We seek to affirm life."

  "That's swell," Dukats said, sarcastically. "But you have some ideas, right?" She looked back to me.

  The FBI had levied vague threats, warning me that exposing the supernatural world to outsiders was forbidden. Whatever was doing the killing, however, wasn't careful about leaving a trail.

  "I need to see the scene and time with the body," I said.

  "What do you mean – time with the body?" Dukats asked.

  "Hypothetically," I started.

  Gabriella put her hand on my arm. "Felix. No."

  "I'll be careful."

  Dukats glowered at Gabriella. "So help me! If you're hiding something, Slade, I'll have you in for obstruction."

  "I'm definitely hiding something, Dukats," I fired back. "I'm just trying to figure out how far down the rabbit hole I'm willing to take you. The fact is, your perfect little world of cops against the bad guys is overly simplistic. There are forces at work beyond your imagination."

  "I didn't take you for a crazy, Slade."

  I grinned wryly. "That was your first mistake. I'm all kinds of crazy, but it doesn't change anything. Let's review what we know so far. First, you have a Persian idolater, George Rosen."

  "You're saying Rosen was a crazy, too?"

  "You're pretty free with that word," I said. "You saw his office. How would you describe the contents - other than trashed?"

  "Filled with occult material. Our working theory is devil worship," she said.

  "Sure, call it that," I said.

  "What would you call it?"

  "The few things I got an eye on were Persian," I said. "He wasn't a devil worshiper. There were no pentagrams or upside down crucifixes. No, Rosen was a disciple of something old. Without access to his library, I can't tell you specifically what. I assume you've packed all that up and sent it to someone for analysis."

  Dukats shifted uneasily on the edge of her desk. "Not yet."

  "It's missing, isn't it?" I said.

  "The house was cleaned out in the middle of the night," she admitted, albeit with hesitation. "There was some confusion about shifts and the house was empty between three and five this morning. When the next shift arrived, the office had been emptied."

  "The staff you bagged?" I asked.

  "In the evidence room."

  I took a breath and hissed it out through my teeth. "You might want to check."

  "You knew this and yet you still arrested Joe?" Gabriella asked.

  "Standard procedure with a fatal gunshot wound," Dukats said. "Get me back to why you want to go to the scene."

  "You're approaching this as a normal homicide." I took another loud breath. "There's more at work here - details you either can't or are unwilling to consider. Were there any unusual marks on the bodies? What about foreign material you couldn't identify? Scorch marks? Chalk symbols? Circles drawn on the ground? Candles?"

  "I can't take you to an active crime scene," D
ukats said. "Department policy."

  Gabriella glared at her. "Sure you can. When I worked for the D.A., we brought in experts all the time."

  "The problem is, you're involved. You were at the first crime scene and Valverde represents one of our suspects," she said. "That's conflict of interest."

  "Then you have a quandary," I said with a shrug. "The snow will destroy whatever evidence your officers don't."

  "I'll take you, but not Valverde," Dukats said. "I can't have a suspect's lawyer at the scene."

  "Forget it," I said.

  Gabriella squeezed my arm. "It's okay, Felix. Let me take your truck home. I'm sure the Lieutenant will drop you off."

  "We can do that," Dukats said.

  "Let's go then," I said.

  Dukats pushed away from the desk, walked around to extract a pistol from a locked drawer and placed the gun into her hip holster. "Dressed kind of light, aren't you?" she asked as the three of us rode the elevator down to the garage beneath. It hadn't occurred to me I'd be standing around outside.

  "I'll grab gloves and a hat from the truck."

  "Tell me, Slade," Dukats said after we'd dropped Gabriella at the truck. "Have you always been this way? You know, into occult things?"

  "Some things a person is born to, Lieutenant," I said. "Tell me, why did you get into police work?"

  "My father," she replied. "He was never anything but a uniform, but he wore it with pride. He loved being on the job."

  "What did he think of you joining the force?" I asked.

  "Not sure why I'm telling you this, but he was nervous. Proud, sure, but he'd seen how poorly women officers could be treated and he didn't want that for me."

  "Has it been a problem?"

  "There was an old guard that had trouble with women," she said. "They felt the job was too strenuous, too demanding, both physically and mentally. I think my dad was one of them until I put on the uniform. You have a point?"

  "Just because you think something is true, doesn't make it so. You've done well for yourself in the department. Seems like that old guard was wrong."

  "Point taken, Slade. Tell me, why'd you get into the occult?"