by Lily Webb
“I am.”
“He got what he deserved, as far as I’m concerned,” she spat. It took all my willpower not to let the shock show on my face, but thankfully she looked away like she realized she’d said something grievous.
“Sounds like your parting wasn’t pretty.”
She shook her head. “Far from it. It’s his fault that Seth is dead.”
“Adam’s, you mean?”
She fixed her deadened eyes on me again. “Yes. I refuse to say his name. He was dead to me long before he died.”
“Got it. Why do you say what happened to Seth was his fault?”
“Seth was always a troubled kid, but he managed — until he stumbled on the things his father had been looking at on the Internet.”
I leaned closer to her, determined not to miss a single word. “What things?”
She raised her eyebrows. “You’re a smart witch, and I heard you faced off with him. Use your imagination.”
“Dark magic?”
Morgan hesitated and shifted her gaze to the dirty, stained carpet. “Among other things, yeah.”
I sensed an opportunity and took it. “Have you ever heard of a group called the Black Brotherhood?”
She shivered and rubbed her hands on her arms. Her eyes slowly raised to meet mine, and she nodded.
“Did you know Adam was a member before we caught him?”
She shrugged and continued to rub her arms. “I had my suspicions, but I never knew for sure.”
“When did you first suspect?” I asked, and Morgan seemed to fold in on herself. I wanted to reach out to comfort her, but I didn’t think she’d appreciate it, so instead I waited a few moments to let her recompose. “It’s okay, Morgan. Whatever you tell me won’t get you into any trouble.” It was a promise I knew I couldn’t guarantee I’d keep, but it was a necessary lie.
She cleared her throat. “About a year ago, not long before Seth passed. I came home early from work and my ex-husband had left his computer open while he was in the bathroom. He wasn’t expecting me.”
“What did you see?” I asked and noticed her fingers trembling as she ran them along her robes to soothe herself.
“He was on a site called The Underworld. It looked like a forum or something. He had a chat window open with someone who went by the name Erebus, and they were talking about the properties of blood and its uses in rituals.”
A shiver washed over me like I’d walked through a ghost.
“He came out of the restroom and caught me reading the messages and flew off the handle. I had no reason to be afraid of him before then.”
“Did he hurt you?”
Morgan shook her head. “No, but I worried he might. Not long after that, Seth started asking me questions about why Moon Grove had banned certain types of magic. I never saw him reading that same stuff, but where else could he have learned about it?”
I knew exactly where, but there wasn’t any reason to tell Morgan. She’d been through enough, and if it made her feel better to believe it was her ex-husband who’d led Seth to his end instead of one of his professors and his girlfriend, I didn’t want to take that peace from her. I’d learned the hard way that sometimes it was better to let some secrets remain that way.
“I assume you and Adam divorced not long after that?”
“Yes. I think the split made things worse for Seth. He got in with a bad crowd at Veilside and started acting up, getting bad grades and tattoos. Sometimes I wonder if I’d stayed, if Seth might still be alive…”
Despite my earlier reservations, I reached out to lay a hand on one of hers. “It’s not your fault. You did what you thought was best. No one can blame you for that.”
She wiped her tears with the back of her free hand and shuddered. “Thank you,” she whispered.
I waited a few moments. “I need to find out what happened to Adam for Heath’s sake. Everyone seems convinced he killed Adam, but I don’t believe it.”
“Neither do I,” she said, and again I had to keep the shock off my face. “Heath and his son have had a strained relationship for as long as I’ve known them, but I never doubted there was love between them.”
“What about the love between you and Adam? Clearly, the flame died. I saw the way you were looking at him during the announcement.”
Her expression shifted from sadness to incredulity in a split second, and she scoffed. “There was a period in my life where I would’ve loved to send that dirtbag to the darkness he loved so much, but that was a long time ago. I knew he’d get what was coming to him eventually, and it wasn’t healthy for me to dwell on it, so I didn’t. I only came to his silly announcement so I could look at him one last time before I let him go for good.”
“So, you had nothing to do with Adam’s death?”
“How could I have? Whoever did it must have used magic, and I didn’t have my wand. Your gargoyle friends took it when I came inside the Town Hall. So, no one but the people on the Council could’ve used magic — but maybe that demon lawyer of his could have. If you ask me, he’s the one you should talk to about this. Even if he didn’t kill my ex-husband, I can guarantee you he knows more about his personal life and business over the last year than I do.”
She had a great point there, an obvious one that somehow hadn’t occurred to me. As Adam’s lawyer, Virgil would’ve wanted to know every detail about his client’s life and actions leading up to his fight with me, no matter how small or seemingly innocuous. In the non-magical world, attorney-client privilege prevented lawyers from sharing details like that with officials like me, but I didn’t know if the same rules applied in Moon Grove — or if they applied at all now that Adam was dead.
“I dunno how he afforded to hire that Virgil guy, anyway. He’s broke,” Morgan added, stirring me out of my thoughts. Did that mean someone else had agreed to pay for Virgil’s services? If so, who and why?
My phone rang in my bag, its shrill tones cutting off my runaway train of thought. I scrambled to dig it out. Holly’s name and office number showed on the screen. “Speak of the devil. Excuse me, I need to take this,” I said and tapped to answer the call. With nowhere to go for privacy, I turned my back to Morgan. “What’s going on?”
“Hey, Zoe, I just got off the phone with Virgil. He only has an hour gap in his schedule for lunch and it’s, well, right now. I told him you were with someone else, so I needed to call you first before I confirmed. Are you free?”
I glanced over my shoulder at Morgan, who seemed to have retreated into an inner world where I could never reach her. “We’re just wrapping up. I can be wherever he needs me to in a matter of minutes. Where is he?”
“He’s renting an office at Bellerose Enterprises. I guess the vampires are the only ones in town who’d have him. Anyway, he said he’s already arranged with the secretary there to allow you in when you arrive.”
I wasn’t looking forward to another encounter with Céline, the less-than-hospitable vampire secretary at Bellerose Enterprises, but if it meant getting info out of Virgil, it would be worth it.
“Perfect. Is there anything else? Did Grandma find anything?”
“Oh, I almost forgot. She poked around on his website. Looks like he has quite the reputation for representing clients in high-profile cases all around the magical world. He’s a bit of a crisis chaser.”
“That fits. I don’t know anyone else who would take a case like this. Anyway, call him back and tell him I’ll be there in five minutes or less.”
“You got it,” she said and hung up. So far, I felt like I’d definitely made the right decision by hiring Holly. She was a much better secretary than Grandma Elle had ever been, but I wouldn’t dream of telling Grandma that.
I turned back to Morgan. “I’m sorry to chat and run, but I’ve got another meeting I need to get to.”
“No problem, I understand. You’re a busy witch.”
With a bit of trouble that I hoped wasn’t obvious, I pushed myself up off the arm of the sofa and offered
her a hand to shake. She joined me in standing and took my hand reluctantly.
“Thanks for your time and for sharing what you know, Morgan. I really appreciate it. If you think of anything else, anything that might help me get Heath out of this mess, call me anytime. I’ll have my secretary put you on a high priority list to make sure you get through.”
“Sure thing. I hope it all works out for Heath’s sake. He’s had as rough of a year as I have. He doesn’t deserve this.”
“Agreed,” I said and gestured to Umrea to get ready to leave. Morgan followed us and as soon as she unlocked the door, the reporters outside came buzzing back to life. “We’re going to Bellerose Enterprises over in the Vampires’ Quarter next, and I need to get there fast. Do you think you can fly me over?” I whispered in Umrea’s ear as we exited. She shot me a scathing look over her shoulder, but grunted and nodded.
Outside, before the reporters had the chance to pounce on us, Umrea scooped me up in her hulking, stony arms and beat the press back with a few flaps of her wings. The motion created a gust so powerful that my hair blew in my face, blocking my view, and before I knew it, we were soaring over the rooftops of Moon Grove, heading south into the Vampires’ Quarter.
It took less than the five minutes I quoted to get to Bellerose Enterprises, the tallest building in the area. Its reflective, sun-proof glass windows sparkled in the afternoon sun, and as we lowered to the ground beside it, I felt the heat pouring off the exterior.
“Wait out here for me. I don’t think I’ll be long,” I said as Umrea set my feet on the ground. I had no idea whether that was true, but it wasn’t like she could say no, so I charged through the two sets of glass double doors.
Inside, Céline sat behind a thick, transparent wall with her glasses resting on the tip of her petite nose and a nail file in one hand. I approached the glass and gestured at the locked door to my right. “Hi, Céline. I’m here to see Virgil. He said he already cleared it with you.”
She smirked. “Bonjour, Miss Clarke,” she said, her accent thick even through the distortion from the microphone that carried her voice through the glass wall. “Yes, right this way, s’il vous plaît.” She pushed a button on her desk with the end of her nail file and the door swung open. Half a second later, she appeared in the entrance. “Follow me.”
We stepped into a long hallway marked by dozens of locked doors, and she led me to the second on the left. Céline knocked and opened the door with her ID badge. “Miss Clarke is here to see you, Virgil,” she called as we entered a sterile white room marked only by a small desk.
Virgil sat behind it with his long, slender fingers steepled under his chin. An expensive-looking laptop stood open in front of him, which he slowly closed as I approached.
“Thank you, Céline,” he said, and she showed herself out. “Please, Miss Clarke, have a seat.” He snapped his fingers and a comfy office chair appeared in a puff of black smoke on the opposite side of his desk.
I carefully lowered myself into it. “Thank you for using your lunch hour to meet with me, especially on such short notice,” I said when I’d gotten settled.
Virgil smiled, and I tried not to shiver at the sight of his many pointed teeth. “It’s not a problem. I don’t eat anymore, anyway.”
“Er, okay.” I didn’t really know what to make of that comment.
He chuckled and reclined in his chair. His tail rose and rested on the desk where it playfully flitted against the surface. “So, what is it you so urgently needed to see me about?”
“I want to know more about your client.”
“Ah, as I assumed. He’s dead. What more is there to know?” He chuckled at his own joke, but when I didn’t join in, he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. That was in poor taste. How can I help?”
“Well, that depends on how much you can tell me. I know you’re probably bound by attorney-client privilege.”
Virgil nodded. “Yes, I am, but there are certain ways of circumventing that.” I cursed mentally. I didn’t know what Virgil meant by circumventing the laws, but given the predicament half of the Council’s Head office was already in, I wasn’t about to risk bending the law to find out — which meant I probably wouldn’t get much of anything useful out of him.
“Okay, then let’s just start with the basics. Why did you take Adam’s case?”
He shrugged. “Why not?”
His evasiveness was already starting to grate on my nerves. Were all demons like this? “So, there wasn’t anything special about the case that drew you to it?”
“Not in particular, no. A third party called on the client’s behalf to ask for my representation, they agreed to my rates and conditions, and that was that.”
A third party? We’d have to get back to that. “Were you the only lawyer he approached?”
“As far as I know, yes.”
“Do you have any idea why he picked you?”
“No doubt because of my unique ability to play devil’s advocate,” Virgil said with a sickening smile.
“Or maybe because of your reputation for representing high-profile clients in less-than-flattering cases?”
Virgil’s smile widened. “I see you’ve done your research. Sure, that could’ve had something to do with it, but I couldn’t tell you definitively. My client and I never discussed it.”
“Then I assume that means you also can’t tell me the identity of the third party who hired you, correct?”
Virgil seemed taken aback. “I’m sorry?”
“You said a moment ago that a third party reached out to you on Adam’s behalf. Given that Adam’s ex-wife, Morgan, told me he was broke, I highly doubt he could’ve afforded to pay a prestigious lawyer like you, so someone else must’ve made the offer. Who?”
Virgil regained his composure. “I’m sorry, that’s privileged information.”
I figured as much, so I changed tack. I didn’t have time to beat around the bush, especially if it led nowhere. “Strange that Adam would die on the same day that should’ve exonerated him, don’t you think?”
“I agree. For the sake of his estate, I’m also trying to get to the bottom of that.”
“Estate, huh? I guess he wasn’t so broke after all.”
Virgil cleared his throat. “The possession of an estate doesn’t inherently imply wealth.”
“Okay, but was his estate large enough to drive someone to kill Adam for its contents?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “No, I sincerely doubt that.”
“Good to know. I’m sure you can’t tell me this either, but what were your terms, exactly? How would you get paid, and for what?”
“With all due respect, Miss Clarke, I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
“Whoever killed Adam in the Town Hall’s chamber did so with magic. The gargoyles confiscated the wands of everyone in attendance, except for the Council. Aside from them, you were the only other person in the room who could’ve used magic. Now do you understand?”
Virgil chuckled. “I do, though I think it’s silly on your part to assert I’d have any reason to murder my client. While I can’t discuss the terms, I can tell you I’d have nothing to gain by harming Mr. Highmore. For one, I’d forfeit all right to payment, and the Paranormal Bar Association would have me disbarred in a heartbeat.”
I wasn’t entirely sure I believed him, but I had to admit he had a good cover story. Once again, I changed direction to keep him off balance. “Have you ever heard of someone who goes by the name Erebus?”
Quick as lightning, a concerned look flashed across Virgil’s face, but as soon as I noticed it, it vanished. “It sounds vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t tell you why or how I know it.”
“What about a site called The Underworld?”
Virgil paused for a moment to think. “It doesn’t ring any bells. Why do you ask?”
I shrugged. “Just curious if either had ever come up in any of your dealings with your various, erm, ‘troubled’ clients.”
&nb
sp; His expression hardened as his eyes raked critically over me. He’d underestimated me, much to my advantage. “Now that you mention it, and assuming we’re speaking in hypothetical terms unrelated to Mr. Highmore, I think I have heard of that site before.”
“Really? What do you know about it?”
He drummed his spindly fingers on the desk while he thought. “I remember reading something about it in one of the papers. The Starfall Chronicle, perhaps? Anyway, from what I can recall, I think it’s what’s referred to as a ‘dark web’ site. One where those who are so inclined can meet to discuss shared and, shall we say, unusual interests? You need special privileges and technical know-how to access it.”
He obviously knew much more about the site than he’d shared, but it was enough. A common denominator was emerging: The Underworld and whoever was masquerading on it as Erebus. Had someone on the site been the one to pay Virgil for his services? It wasn’t impossible.
“Do you know if Adam was a member there?”
Virgil’s eyes narrowed. “I can neither confirm nor deny that. Again, it’s privileged information.”
Bingo. In my prior life as a reporter, I’d learned early on that a non-committal answer like that was more often than not an admission. I didn’t have concrete proof, but I would’ve bet my life on the fact that Virgil learned about Adam there — and maybe even talked with him.
“Naturally. My law knowledge is a little rusty so I might be wrong, but I’m pretty sure matters of your client’s estate aren’t necessarily privileged, right?”
Virgil nodded with his eyebrows raised. “That’s true. I’m legally allowed to disclose certain things pertinent to the execution of the client’s estate.”
“Okay, then you should be able to answer this one: Who’s inheriting Adam’s estate?” I asked, going in for the kill. I had a good feeling it wouldn’t be Morgan; and since Seth was dead, who else could Adam have chosen?
Virgil’s smile returned. “Good question. I don’t know the answer to that myself.”
“What? How couldn’t you?”
“My client passed away before he completed his legal documents. The police have confiscated his computer, among many other items, while they investigate his death. Now you understand why I’m also interested in learning who killed Mr. Highmore.”