Fae Noir- the Murderer in Blue

by Katelynn Alexandrea

  "Are you guys serious?" She demanded.

  Aabirah smirked.

  "What's so funny?" Vanessa demanded.

  "Today, I started believing in fairy godmothers." Aabirah chuckled.

  Pilot fish

  Frank looked pensive, when we approached. He stopped leaning against the wall.

  “We’ve got a problem.” Frank said, quietly.

  “You’re dead, Frank. You don’t have to whisper. You’re dead.” Bailey pointed out.

  Frank exchanged a look with me.

  “Something is wrong.” I said, with a raised eyebrow.

  “That’s why I said we’ve got a problem.” Frank nodded. “The entire incident with Aabirah?”

  “Yes?” Bailey asked.

  “Whoever poisoned her food wasn’t on camera.” Frank frowned. “You two were. Aabirah was. Aabirah’s tray was. It was a slight of hand. I can’t adequately pin down-”

  I held up my phone with the list of names.

  Frank raised his eyebrows. “Score one for the Doc. Trying to solve her own attempted murder.”

  “Can we focus?” Bailey asked. “What did you see of these 5?”

  “Five? Captain-” Frank started.

  “It’s not Captain Channing.” I said, with a shake of my head. “He’s the only one we can conclusively rule off the list.”

  “With what evidence?” Frank asked.

  “He has an alibi.” Bailey pointed out.

  Frank gave her an uncertain look.

  “Fairy senses.” Bailey corrected herself.

  “What kind of fairy senses?” Frank asked.

  “I can sense everyone’s truest wishes and beliefs.” I shrugged. “Captain Channing genuinely wants to find out who did this. He really loved that car, and he is PISSED.”

  “What about the others?” Frank asked.

  “I’ve got nothing on the others. They’re all staying in the mass of murderers and mayhem that masks most of my senses.” I nodded. “Willcox was at one crime scene. This fellow… Benham? He was at another.”

  “They despise each other. They’d never work together after-” Frank blinked. “Hey, I can actually talk about this without worrying about Willcox going bloody crazy on me. Benham was friends with Willcox’s ex-wife. Long story short, Willcox was a bit… heavy handed.”

  “He hit her.” Bailey surmised.

  I blinked. “Frank.”

  “What?” Frank asked.

  “There were abuses that looked a lot like domestic abuse bruises on Tracy Lincoln’s body.” I said, quietly.

  “We were going to go look at her place for evidence of her boyfriend, weren’t we?” Bailey added.

  “Yes, we were.” Frank nodded.

  “Is it… safe to leave Aabirah and Vanessa alone?” Bailey asked. “They’re sweet. You know?”

  “The Lesbian Sisterhood of Police Officers are badass bitches. We’re presently 4 out of 5 of the only people that have survived this crazy murder spree, and the 3 others who aren’t you and me are presently alive today because you and I have saved them.” I shrugged. “Bailey, right this second-”

  “By the book.” Frank said.

  “Or… the fairy godmother way.” I retorted.

  “Go on.” Bailey blinked.

  “I can cast a protective enchantment on them that will alert me when they’re in any kind of danger my fairy-dar would normally suggest.” I suggested. “And, there are protective spells tat deflect incoming harm.”

  “You didn’t happen to think of these… when Eva was in danger?” Bailey asked.

  “I couldn’t use them.” I said, quietly. “They’re white magic enchantments.”

  “What changed?” Bailey asked. “Between when we rescued Eva and now, what-”

  I looked between the two of them, and tentatively stretched out my wings again.

  “You didn’t even look. When I showed them to Aabirah.” I said, quietly.

  Bailey blinked, looking astonished. “They’re white.”

  “Aren’t they supposed to be?” Frank asked.

  “No. When we met, they were black. How did they change colors?” Bailey asked.

  “The only way you obtain white fae magic is simple.” I shrugged. “It’s also more or less forbidden.”

  “You going to sing all around the mulberry bush, or are you going to get to the god damned point?” Frank asked.

  “White fairy magic is only unlocked when true love is used as a magical force.” I said, quietly. “I brought Bailey back to life.”

  The two were silent for a second.

  “Oh.” Bailey blinked. “Magic… works like that?”

  “Fairy magic does.” I nodded. “What’s strange though? I can still access black fae magic. Easily. In fact, my magic is supercharged. Has been for a couple nights, now.”

  “Because of Bailey.” Frank reiterated.

  I was quiet, and looked down. “Nobody… I was never taught this.” I said, looking around. “I was always taught that your magic was your magic. You couldn’t lose it. You couldn’t change it. Incidentally, I was also always taught that black fae can’t fall in love.”

  “So.” Bailey blinked. “I… broke your magic?”

  “I would rather say you fixed it.” I looked up. “Black fae aren’t given very good jobs.”

  “Can you tell me what Black fae do?” Bailey asked.

  “Douchebags.” I said, stepping in to the elevator. “My job was to help douchebags. All the spoiled little bastards we put in jail. Politicians. Car salesmen. Murderers. Thieves.”

  “What happened?” Frank said, looking towards me. “Something… had to change?”

  “I quit.” I nodded. “There was a kid. His parents split up, and he was stuck with his abusive father. I was low on magic. The only wish I could grant him was to have his neighbor finally get up the nerve to call Child Protective Services.”

  “That doesn’t sound like such a terrible thing. It sounds like the best possible-” Bailey began.

  “He shot up a school.” I interrupted. “And the other fae said it was my fault. That was the day I quit. The day I decided I was going to do this, instead.”

  “That’s a good a reason to join the force as any.” Frank admitted.

  “Shit.” Bailey said, quietly. “That’s… gotta be traumatic.”

  “I ran out of real fae magic. All I had left was anger.” I looked up at the elevator roof. “Hell, in the two decades since then, the only people I’ve actually trusted are right here. And one of you died. I also didn’t learn to trust you until after that point. I just ran on that. The anger. The hunger. The belief that those people don’t deserve fairy godmothers. They deserve where we put them. That’s all I’ve been.”

  “And now you’re running on something else.” Frank nodded.

  “Belief. Proper fae magic.” I took a deep breath. “Please don’t ever ask me to talk about that again.”

  “Deal.” Bailey nodded.

  “Thanks.” Was all I had to say, before the elevator deposited us back in to the station. I watched those around us, cautiously, but I found my magic faltering for just a moment.

  And then, there it was. Clarity. Just a single moment of clarity.

  I stared at Willcox, and found a deeply disturbed individual. Sick. Abusive. Angry. Hateful. Spiteful. His wishes were filled with perverse desires, and his beliefs were cruel. He saw himself as better. Superior. Because he was a man. Because he was a Christian. Because…

  I blinked.

  This was without question a man who would stop at nothing, if he thought he was being found out.

  I was chilled straight to my innermost magical force.

  “Oh. My. God.” I whispered, watching him leave the area.

  “What?” Frank whispered.

  “Who is Willcox partnered with?” I asked.

  Frank nodded towards a much more slight looking woman. "Sergeant Stacy Chavez."

  She looked trite, and focusing on her was like focusing on a voi
d. She didn’t have wishes, or dreams. She had… nothing. She was blank.

  “Sparkles.” I whispered.

  “What?” Bailey asked, looking amused.

  “She’s… blank. Empty. Cold. I can’t explain it. Unreadable. Immune to fairy godmother magic. I’ve never even heard of it.” I said, astonished. “She’s like… the inversion of veil-blind.”

  “Can you break that down? Maybe I can translate it into something useful.” Frank suggested.

  “Okay. Vanessa is like… Square. Her mind is mathematics and science, and everything about her is ordered, which is funny, because she’s overly slobbish, and uncaring about her appearance. It’s kind of interesting, watching Aabirah and Vanessa together. Vanessa is more or less immune to the veil, because her mind is ordered in such a way that she can’t accommodate it, while Aabirah’s life is carefully organized and ordered, but her mind? Her soul? It’s very open to belief. Open to things that are extra-normal.” I explained. “But this is like the veil is blind to her? It’s… the inversion of Vanessa. Like she’s frozen out of existing. Out of feeling. LIke there is nothing in the world that can make her feel. Make her dream. Make her wish. It’s all just… empty.”

  “A sociopathic person? I think they call it borderline personality disorder, now.” Frank said. “Normally, we are the ones hunting them. They don’t really tend to be the kind that enforces the law, but I’ve heard rumor and happenstance that there are a few who choose the game of catching bad guys because the puzzle of solving it is the only joy they can experience anymore.”

  “Like Sherlock!” Bailey said, with a haste nod. “You know?”

  “More or less.” Frank nodded. “Aabirah was fond of telling me how psychologically inaccurate his character is, and it entirely ruined the series for me.”

  “She means the book.” I retorted.

  “What book?” Bailey asked.

  I sighed.

  Frank sighed.

  “What?” Bailey asked.

  “Nevermind.” I said. “Let’s go see Channing.”

  The three of us entered Channing’s office, and he gave us a strange look. “Hear you staved off another body.”

  “Someone tried to poison Aabirah.” I said, quietly.

  Channing blinked, looking towards Frank. He almost said something.

  “Can you see me?” Frank asked.

  Channing looked away, and withdrew a set of keys. “Officially, I’ve assigned you a car that isn’t this one. This one is the car that Reynolds requisitioned for the sting operation that doesn’t exist because I am unexpectedly going to requisition him for a different case in 15 minutes. It’s on the top floor. Quote unquote your car is on the bottom floor. Easily ambushed. Technically, presently ready to ambush.”

  “And if nobody gets ambushed, you’re going to get a forensic tech look over it?” Bailey suggested.

  “Maybe not Aabirah, specifically.” I added.

  “Oh, good. We’re on the same page.” Channing nodded. He stared blankly towards Frank for just a second, before shaking his head. “Get yourself… wherever. Don’t tell me. I’d rather not know at this point.”

  “Done.” I said, taking the keys.

  “What are the odds the other car is going to explode?” Frank asked.

  “Too damn high.” Bailey laughed.

  “I’m betting on cut break lines.” I retorted. “Explosions are going to draw too much attention.”

  “That’s not a bad choice. It might be seen as an accident.” Frank admitted.

  We made it to the car in relative silence. Frank was looking perplexed.

  “Hey… Did it seem like the Captain almost saw me for a second there?” Frank asked.

  “People nearly break through the veil all the time. Feelings of worry or dread you can’t explain. Inexplicable chills or goosebumps. Feeling like you’re being watched.” I nodded. “People almost notice beings of the veil all the time, but they dismiss it. I’m not all that worried. If he DOES start to notice beings of the veil, I think he’ll probably have a hard time with that, but I will try and help.”

  We approached the car, and I withdrew my wand.

  “Azura!” Bailey chastised. “What if someone sees?” She hissed.

  “What if it explodes?” Frank countered.

  I twirled the wand, cautiously. I could sense the traces of the officer who had set up the car for another officer. I could sense traces of other people’s cars around us.

  But there was a distinct absence of intent, or malicious thought.

  “We’re good.” I said, after a few minutes.

  “Thank god.” Frank laughed.

  We got in to the car, and Bailey stretched. “There had better be a Sharkbucks-”

  “On the way to the victim’s house? The victim, who worked at Sharkbucks?” Frank asked.

  “We’ll find one.” I chuckled.

  "It's Vancouver. We'll find 9 in the next to blocks." Frank quipped.

  “Thanks, Azura.” Bailey said, relieved.

  “Is it like a chemical dependency thing?” Frank asked.

  “Yes.” I said at the same time that Bailey said “No.”

  Frank chuckled.

  Three separate Sharkbucks Drive-thrus, and a 7-11 for some top-up shots later, we arrived at the quiet little apartment building.

  “Do you think this is a set up, too?” Frank asked.

  “At this point, I’m expecting everything to be a set-up.” I admitted.

  “That’s why she takes all the crazy precautions.” Bailey added.

  “You did cast the protective spells on Aabirah and Vanessa, right?” Frank asked.

  “While we were in the lab.” I nodded.

  “Before you told us you were going to.” Bailey chuckled.

  “Sounds about right.” Frank shook his head.

  Several minutes, introductions, badge show-offs, and one manager unlocking the door to Tracy’s apartment for us later, the three of us looked around, curiously trying to deduce more information about the woman who had dragged them in to this mysterious swirling pool of danger, and death.

  “Do your thing.” Frank gestured. “Leave us to the cop stuff.”

  I wasn’t exactly sure what they thought my thing was at this point.

  Still, it was always curious, invading someone else’s house. You walked past the pictures of their family. Like her father, the seedy car salesman. Or her mother who… The apartment was full of memories of her.

  Old memories. They were all around here, but there wasn’t a single one that was new, in the past seven years.

  As I walked through the house, it swirled of the dead woman, and her life.

  There were hopes and dreams of being just like the nurse who helped her mother, when she was sick. There were memories of Patches, the rabbit who died when she was 9.

  Everything about her was in this house.

  I stopped, looking at a photo album.

  Opening it, and flipping through it, while the others ostensibly did police work, whatever that was, if this wasn’t, I tripped across a photo of Willcox.

  And Tracy.

  On their wedding day.

  Too easy.

  And then, it struck me.

  “Oh. My. Glitter.” I whispered. “Hey, Bailey! Shithead! Get in here!”

  “That’s affectionate.” Frank said, dryly, as he strolled towards me. “What have you got, twinkletoes?”

  “You were telling us about Willcox’s wife.” I said, staring at the book.

  “Yeah. Never met the woman.” Frank said. “Why?”

  “Look at this.” I held the book up for him to see.

  “No. Way.” Frank looked absolutely stunned.

  “What?” Bailey asked, looking over Frank’s shoulder.

  “Willcox.” I pointed at the book. “And Tracy.”

  “Too easy.” Frank shook his head. “Everybody knows this story. He’s the first-” Frank froze, mid-sentence.

  “He’s the first guy anyone woul
d question, and yet not one single person has suggested we question him.” Bailey said, quietly. “You’re new. Frank is dead. I’m not even close to being in my element here. Not one person even nudged us in his direction.”

  “I think they realized the frame job wasn’t going to work, for some reason.” I said, thoughtfully. “Remember? Death said I freaked out the actual killer, who was planning on-”

  “-framing someone for murder.” Frank finished. “Son of a bitch. This is the first actual god damned lead we’ve had in three days.”

  “Do we actually question Willcox, though?” Bailey asked.

  “We have to.” I nodded. “Make it look like the frame job is still possible.”

  “Why?” Frank asked.

  Bailey blinked. “Because if the actual killer thinks we have our sights set on-"

  “Pilot fish.” I nodded.

  “What?” Bailey asked.

  “Pilot fish. They’re sort of scavengers? They swarm near big, slow fish like whales, and they sort of leech off of the bigger fish’s kills, while also being protected both from and by the fish, by the way they surround them.” I explained. “We force our investigation on to him, and see what comes out in the wash when others think they’re not being observed.”

  “You know, every time you say I’ve got a plan, I worry it’s a terrible plan, but the more I get used to your plans, the more I start to realize that your plans would work, if you weren’t being continuously screwed over.” Frank said. “Which is strange, because Death seems to be implying that your methods of altering the non-veiled world are hard to rebuke.”

  “Extra-normal.” Bailey said. “You said that.” Bailey pointed at me. “YOU SAID THIS KILLER WAS EXTRA-NORMAL!”

  I blinked. “That actually makes sense.”

  The three of us were silent in the woman’s apartment.

  “What kind of extra-normal?” Frank asked.

  “I don’t know.” I admitted. “But it makes a certain sense that something extra-normal is here. Like… something trying to counteract the good that I’m doing?”

  “That makes enough sense.” Frank nodded. “If Death is aware that things being off balance is you, it’s absolutely plausible to imagine other things might, too.”

  “Probable.” Bailey corrected. “Though the idea that this is just a really well trained murderer isn’t entirely outside the realm of the normal, so don’t go discrediting human cruelty.”