“And you’re telling me the kelpies never egged him on?” I demanded. “Never goaded him?”
“Siobhan never even looked at him,” Valter said flatly.
“Agent Bradford said he ran outside because he believed Siobhan was trying to kidnap a kid,” I said. “Did you see a kid anywhere near here tonight?”
“No.” He grabbed the towel and picked up another glass from beside the sink.
“Did you ever see the jockey, Mickey V, turn this way? Did you ever see his face, or notice Andy looking in his direction when he was facing him?”
“I never met Mickey before tonight. And I didn’t see any kids wandering around outside. But then, I have a bar to run, so I don’t tend to notice people until they want to buy something. Speaking of which…”
He gestured behind me. As I turned, I almost hit a man with my elbow. “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
The man looked at me with big frog-like eyes, a grin spreading over his thin lips. At least, I thought he was grinning. It was hard to tell through the blond beard with the greenish tint.
“Does he have scales?” Peasblossom hissed.
“I think they’re tattoos,” I murmured.
“Not tattoos,” the man said, his words trailed by a wet sound between a wheeze and a gurgle. “Those are real.”
He dropped his glamour on the last word. His skin grew paler and took on the same green tint reflected in his beard. The scales I’d mistaken for tattoos gleamed with a metallic iridescence—where they weren’t coated with slimy algae. He looked like he should have smelled awful, but on my next breath I caught a hint of rosemary. That jogged my memory, and I knew what he was. A bolotnik. A swamp spirit.
Mostly harmless. No magical ability that could affect someone’s memory.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name?” I asked.
“Maks.” He lifted his empty beer glass at Valter and the barman grunted and reached to take it for a refill. When he handed it back, Maks happily took a deep swig, losing almost as much to his beard as he managed to get down his throat.
“Do you know Agent Bradford?” I asked him.
“I would have, if he’d had the decency to join me for a drink.” He shuffled back a few steps until his rear end hit one of the tables, then he grabbed a chair. “I invited him plenty of times, but he could never be bothered. Not one to enjoy a drop, that one.” He settled into his seat, letting his beer glass down hard on the table and wiping his mouth on his forearm.
“He doesn’t drink,” I agreed.
Maks shook his head. “Would have done him some good if he had. Or if not drink, then some other outlet. A man can’t live by duty alone.”
“Duty?” Liam asked.
The bolotnik sighed. “He made no secret of it. He was sure the kelpies were up to no good, and he was determined to catch them in the act.”
“And did he?” I asked. “Catch them in the act?”
“You’re talking about the murder tonight. I was inside the whole time, so I couldn’t tell you.” He snorted. “What I can tell you is that man of yours has demons he isn’t ready to face. Combine that with no drinking, no smoking… Hell, I hope he has a lover. Though the evidence suggests not!”
He slapped his knee and let out a guffaw that filled the air between us with another burst of rosemary. Liam’s aura flared behind me, singeing my back. I looked over my shoulder at him, but his face didn’t give anything away.
“The witch is not sleeping with the FBI man,” a new voice announced. “Her lover is much more sensual. Sex on two legs, if you know what I mean.”
I narrowed my eyes as a man swaggered over to the bolotnik’s table. His large belly protruded over the waistband of his pants, his too-tight T-shirt giving up on covering his girth an inch too soon, revealing a strip of brown skin. His puffy cheeks were flushed and his gait wobbled as if he’d been drinking for some time.
“Refer to my sex life again,” I said in a low voice, “and I will hex you so that every sip of alcohol turns to pure water on your tongue.”
The man’s mouth fell open, and he swayed back as if I’d struck him. “No call for…for that.” He scowled. “You’re just cranky. I was here when you and your handsome…friend, saved him the first time.” He continued, a slight slur in his words. “But you won’t save him this time.”
“You’ve had one too many again, Gesupo!” Maks slapped him on the back, sending the rotund man into the table so quickly he almost keeled over.
Gesupo struggled to straighten up, swaying back and forth before finding some semblance of equilibrium. “FBI shot that kelpie like a crippled racehorse. Palgun saw him!” He threw out an arm to gesture at a man sitting at a table in the corner and almost fell over. “Ask him! Your FBI man is kelpie food.”
“Did you see it happen?” Liam asked.
Gesupo shook his head. “No, I was having a drink in the corner. But I was here the last time Bradford had a go at the kelpies. The night you were here.” He pointed at me, but his finger wavered as if he saw two of me and wanted to make sure he included us both. “He’d have killed one that night too. If you and pretty boy hadn’t come along to pull him out of the water.”
“Neither of you seem very upset about the fact that there’s a dead woman outside that door,” I said coolly.
Maks looked offended. “Didn’t know her, did we? We get the gossip, but the high and mighty at the precious Turning Tides don’t slum it around here, do they?”
I wasn’t wasting my time with belligerent patrons who had nothing to tell, so I nodded to Maks, then headed for the table in the corner. Three different witnesses had named Palgun as the one to tackle Andy. If there’d been anyone else outside when it happened, he’d be the one to ask.
Palgun watched me approach with a less than friendly look in his watery grey eyes. He sat up straighter, casually tossing his head to send his long, flowing blond hair over his shoulder.
“Hi. My name is Mother Renard. I’m told you were the one who tackled Agent Bradford earlier.”
“After he murdered Raichel, yes.”
Liam stepped up behind me, his aura a few degrees cooler now. “You’re Palgun?”
The aloof blond man raised his eyes to Liam. “Yes. And if you’re here for hope clearing Bradford’s name, then I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
“You saw him shoot her?” Liam asked.
“As good as. I ran out the door right after. Caught Bradford standing over Raichel’s body. Like the witch said, I’m the one that tackled him.”
My stomach lurched. “You saw him with the gun in his hand?”
Palgun frowned. “No. It was on the ground at his feet. He must have dropped it when he heard me hit the door.”
“But you don’t know that,” Peasblossom pressed, flying into the air between us, looking down on Palgun with all the superiority of her tiny species.
“I know he didn’t hit his head hard enough to forget anything,” Palgun said. “Head wounds bleed something awful, even when it’s barely a scratch. He’s faking it.”
“And you would know that, would you?” I forced myself to stop, find my center. The last thing I needed right now was to come off as a hotheaded witch. Hotheaded witches made people nervous, not chatty. “I’d appreciate it if you just stuck to the facts. When you ran out, did you see anyone else? Anyone at all in the parking lot?”
“I saw Bradford standing over Raichel’s dead body. The jockey was already running away, around the building. He’s the one that called for Rowyn.” He met my eyes. “He went to the kelpies for protection against your partner. Not the other way around. Does that sound like your friend is innocent?”
“It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind,” I said.
Palgun sighed. His let his shoulders slump and tucked his long hair behind one ear. “Listen, I don’t mean to be cruel. But trying to spare your feelings will only hurt you more in the long run. I’m a kul, Mother Renard. I know when misfortune is coming. I
t’s coming for your friend now. If I were you, I’d get out of the way.”
Kuls were Siberian water spirits. Not malicious, per se, but rather portents of misfortune. Similar to a banshee.
No magic that would allow for mental manipulation.
Dammit.
I looked away from Palgun and scanned the bar. There was no one else here. Oksana stood near the bar, surveying the room, watching to make sure no one was congregating out of the normal routine. Evelyn had fallen back beside the strix after we’d spoken with Deacon, and Siobhan leaned against the back wall.
Jane was busy typing on her tiny computer, buried in all the work Siobhan had neither the brains nor the inclination to do herself. Mickey was sitting at the bar on the stool closest to the front door, one leg bouncing with the energy I’d expect from someone on his fifth energy drink. His eyes darted around the room, as if he couldn’t believe he’d finally been let inside and was just waiting for someone to notice him. And Deacon just sat in the corner, watching me with an expression far too close to pity for my liking.
Liam walked to the front door and opened it to speak to someone outside. I started toward him, but he’d accepted a slip of paper from the person and closed the door before I reached him. He shook his head at me. “Vincent says he won’t have the ballistics report and other results for us until tomorrow.”
“There has to be something he can tell us now,” I insisted. I pointed at the slip of paper. “What’s that?”
“Vincent got the serial number off the gun used. I’m going to run it, see if I can trace the owner.”
“The serial number was filed off?” I perked up at that. “What else did he say?”
Liam’s face remained carefully blank. “He said he has nothing to tell us right now.”
The brief flare of hope died down as I realized an illegal weapon could just as easily be more damning evidence against Andy. He was an FBI agent. He’d know where to get an illegal gun.
“You mean Vincent has nothing good to tell us. And he doesn’t want to speak with me until he has something that isn’t more evidence against Andy.”
“We won’t know until tomorrow,” Liam asserted.
I nodded and turned toward the back door. I felt rather than saw Siobhan fall into step behind us, trailing in our wake as we headed back to her boat.
“Mother Renard, I do hope you got the information you needed?” she chirped as she passed me by to all but hop onto the deck.
I stared her down as I boarded the boat again, walking right up to her until a slight arm extension would have let me shove her overboard.
“I want Agent Bradford—”
“Out on bail?” Siobhan smiled. “Of course. I’m not heartless. You can have a little more time with him. One last investigation, as it were.”
That had been too easy. If Siobhan really believed Andy had tried to kill her, she should have some fear of his release. Especially if he felt he had nothing to lose. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t proven he was a match for a kelpie. I opened my mouth, but she kept talking.
“On one condition, of course. Just in case you—or Agent Bradford—decide to run when you see how completely hopeless your case is.” She took a swaying step forward, invading my personal space and bringing the scent of the lake with her. “If Agent Bradford is released to your custody, you must give your word that you will serve his sentence yourself if he escapes. To be clear, that means if he escapes before he’s turned over, or after.” She leaned forward, lowering her voice. “I’ll give you a moment to call your Master and make sure that’s okay.”
Well, that explained part of it. Siobhan was getting greedy, trying to get a two-for-one. And if she was a real gambler—and it seemed she was—if she did end up claiming me, who’s to say she wouldn’t try to bargain with my freedom to get a favor from someone else? Flint, or maybe Liam? Opportunistic and a sadist.
Liam’s aura kicked up another few degrees, snapping against my skin like embers thrown off a bonfire. The heat felt good out here in the cold air with the wind rolling off the water to steal whatever warmth I might have produced on my own. I didn’t have to look at his face to know what he thought of me putting myself up as collateral. But to his credit, he didn’t try to stop me.
Smart man.
Flint didn’t answer my first call. Or the second. My pulse sped up a little faster with each failed attempt, and by the time I dialed his number a sixth time, I was ready to chuck my phone overboard and try calling him in a less mundane fashion. Something that would require bloodletting.
Thank the Goddess he answered.
“What’s wrong?”
I swallowed a sigh of relief as Flint’s voice came over the line, sharpened by the fact he’d no doubt noticed the five missed calls before this one. “I need permission to sign a contract,” I blurted out.
“What contract?” Wariness crept into his voice. I heard the clink of a bottle being set down.
“Andy’s been arrested for killing a kelpie. I want to bail him out, but to do that I need to agree to serve the sentence myself if he runs.”
“What sentence?”
I looked at Siobhan. “Put a number on it.”
“A human lifetime at Andy’s age would be fifty years.”
“Fifty years service to Siobhan,” I told Flint. I held my breath.
“Siobhan. The sister of Bradan. The kelpie Agent Bradford killed.”
I closed my eyes. “Yes.”
Flint was silent for a long minute. “You are never boring, Shade. I can honestly say you are never boring.”
“Just give me an answer, I don’t have a lot of time.”
There was a too-long pause, and another clink of glass before he answered. “I’ll allow you to sign the contract under two conditions.”
I gritted my teeth. “Which are?”
“You owe me one more month on our contract.”
Peasblossom hissed, but I held up a hand. “Fine. And?”
“If you fail to clear him and he does not submit himself to serve his sentence, forcing you to take his place, you will serve the same sentence with me when your time with Siobhan is done.”
I really wished I’d been sitting down. “Fifty years. With you.”
“I think it’s very fair. Considering you’re asking me to interrupt our contract so you can save Agent Bradford’s life.”
I had a lot of words for what he wanted, but fair wasn’t one of them. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the leverage to argue. “Fine.”
Peasblossom let out a squeak of outrage. The nauseated feeling in my stomach grew worse, but I didn’t have a choice. I tried to shake it off. This would all be moot once I proved Andy was innocent. Another month wouldn’t kill me. “Fine.”
“Then you can agree to Siobhan’s terms.”
I ended the call before I could change my mind. Technically, I was supposed to wait for Flint to end the call, but I didn’t think he’d make a big deal out of it. Not when he’d just gotten so much out of our short exchange.
I ignored the smug look on Siobhan’s face and went down to retrieve Andy.
He didn’t look up right away when I entered. The notebook he held looked half full, and his eyes flitted back and forth over what he’d written. It felt good to see him this way, his analytical mind taking over, focusing on the details. I cleared my throat.
He tore his attention from his notes to face me. “Did you find out what happened?”
I gestured for him to follow me out of the boat. “I arranged your bail. Come with me, we’ll talk in the truck.”
He must have wanted to leave more than he wanted answers, and I couldn’t blame him for that. I waited until we stepped off the pier before I began filling him in on what we’d learned. I tried to sound as positive as I could, but it was hard to make the facts sound less damning than they were. There was no getting around the fact that two different witnesses had seen Andy leave the bar, get a good look at Mickey’s face, and then shoot “Siobhan,” anyway.
Combined with the fact that more than one patron considered Andy’s behavior to be stalking, it didn’t look good.
Which is why it seemed strange that Andy’s mood seemed to improve as we walked.
“Kylie and Vincent won’t have forensic results for us until tomorrow,” I finished. “So far, I haven’t seen anyone with the power to manipulate your memory. But Vincent’s results will be more accurate, and he’ll be able to tell me if someone was there tonight but managed to leave before we got here, or if someone had a potion or an artifact that could have done the job.”
Andy wasn’t looking at me, and he was only half-listening. I frowned as he walked past Liam’s truck, heading for a tree at the border of the bar’s property.
Liam followed him, then halted and wrinkled his nose. “What smells like ammonia?”
“It didn’t smell like that when I put it here.” Andy reached up to a bundle of leaves lodged in the V of a lower branch. It wasn’t until he moved it that I realized what it was.
“A camera?” I stared at Andy. “You had a camera here?”
Andy nodded, turning the device over in his hands. It was small and compact, and I never would have seen it if he hadn’t reached for it first.
My mouth fell open as the full realization of what this meant hit me. “You have the shooting on video.”
Andy nodded again. “I should. I didn’t want to say anything where others might overhear, just in case…”
Liam made a face as he looked at the camera. “Someone wiped it down with ammonia. If it wasn’t you, then someone else knew about it.”
Andy flicked open the camera. I waited, but he didn’t move, didn’t speak.
Finally, Peasblossom launched herself off my shoulder to fly into the air for a better look. “It’s empty,” she moaned. “The SD card is gone.”
I stared at Andy.
A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “Someone stole the SD card.”
Suddenly, I found myself starting to smile too.
“Why are you smiling?” Peasblossom demanded. “That’s a bad thing isn’t it?”
Conviction Page 7