by Erin Johnson
The players at the table sucked in sharp breaths, and Bora Kang glowered. Sunglasses glanced down, realized what the dog had done, then paled. A half-second of pause followed, and then everyone reached for their wands. Everyone except me, who, of course, had no wand or magic.
I dove under the table just before the spells began flying. Green, blue, red flashes of light flew overhead. Oh snakes, this was bad! I cowered, hands over my head, as my chair, hit by a flash of gold, splintered and caught on fire. Oh snakes, oh snakes, oh snakes!
Fifi yapped and barked. Tell Rufio I’ll wait for him! And to meet me at our usual spot tomorrow night.
Yeah, sure thing, pup. If I made it out of here alive.
The men cursed and shouted their spells. Bora Kang shrieked out one of her own, and another table flew across the room and shattered against the wall. I’d started an all-out magical brawl. More beefy guys sprinted in from the casino floor, wands drawn.
I tensed on all fours, prepared to make a mad dash for the curtain, when I suddenly remembered that all Will’s money sat on the table. Even if I survived this shootout, I wouldn’t survive his wrath. I gulped. Or worse, his disappointment and silent treatment.
I nodded to myself, shook my hands and, with my adrenaline pumping, scooted out from under the table and rose on my knees to peek over the edge. Sunglasses, his arm grazed and bleeding, spotted me and pointed his wand at my face. I ducked, just in time, as his spell flew over my head and burned a hole in the worn carpet. That son of a beach!
High on anger and fear, I rose up one more time, snatched the leather pouch of merkles I’d brought from the clinic, and, just for good measure, picked up another heavy coin and chucked it at the overhead light. The only light.
Glass shattered and clinked to the table, and the room fell into absolute darkness. With no windows, the place became pitch-black except for the glow of the spells whizzing overhead and the sliver of light peeking under the heavy curtain to the casino floor. Muttering spells of protection (which were, of course, purely a placebo) I crawled on hands and feet toward that sliver of light.
I reached it, amazed I hadn’t been struck down by a spell or trampled on by one of the huge bouncers, and scrambled through. I lurched to my feet. It was chaos on the casino floor as everyone ran from the fight. I simply slid into the stampeding crowd and ran out into the night.
31
A THEORY
I lifted a brow. “You can stop petting it already.”
Will glanced up from his seat at the picnic table beside me. He straightened his spine and tucked the leather pouch of coins back into the pocket of his white lab coat. They dropped in with a clink and his pocket bulged. “I’m not petting it.”
He let a long arm hang by his side, then gave the pocket a pat.
“Snakes!” I punched his arm. “Stop touching it.”
He looked down his nose at me. “When I almost lose your life’s savings, you can tell me what to do.”
I rolled my eyes. “So dramatic.”
“You’re sure it’s all there?” He looked to his left and frowned down at the pouch. “Maybe I should count it again.”
I huffed and leaned closer, lowering my voice. “Do you see where we’re at?” I’d had him and Heidi meet me at a food pod around the corner from his clinic after I’d escaped from the gambling hall. More out of hunger than anything else.
We sat at a big community table, though my giant of a friend snarled at anyone who tried to sit near us. Steam rose from the food carts all around us, and the air generally smelled like a delicious medley of “fried.”
As I glanced around, I spotted Neo, Sacha, and Viktor threading through the crowd. I narrowed my eyes. I hadn’t seen them since our little trip through the sewers.
I gritted my teeth. I’d think about my issues with Ludolf later—first thing first. I had to help Peter solve this case and hopefully get him out of trouble with his bosses.
Will’s tacos and my stir-fry already rested on the checkered plastic tablecloth in front of us, but Heidi was still in line for her pho. Though the tables around us filled the air with the sounds of chatter and laughter and clinking cutlery, I kept my voice low. “You’re in the middle of the Darkmoon District. You really want to flaunt your pouch of money?” I flashed my eyes at him.
Will’s bushy brows lowered.
I looked him up and down. “You’re scary when you’re hoarding.”
“It’s not hoarding.” He glowered at me. “It’s being fiscally responsible.”
I raised my brows and kept my eyes down on my steaming noodles. “Whatever you say.”
“What’d I miss?” Heidi plopped her bowl down on the table and settled onto the bench across from us. She broke her wooden chopsticks apart and swirled her noodles around in the broth.
“Nothing,” Will grumbled.
A thumping bass beat sounded from a nearby club. Heidi leaned in, her eyes alight and a conspiratorial expression on her face. “Good. Tell me everything.”
“You know,” I waved a hand, “I’m not sure that’s necessary.” I shoved a mouthful of oily noodles and beef into my mouth and spoke around my food. “I got Will his money back and information on Davies and really, that’s all that matters here, right?”
Will cursed under his breath. “You almost lost it all, didn’t you?”
Heidi grimaced. “That bad, huh?”
I sighed and thought back to the all-out brawl. “Let’s just say I’m probably not welcome back at the Golden Tide.”
“Oh, shell.” Will groaned and reached for the money in his pocket.
I slapped his hairy hand away. “Stop touching it!”
He scowled at me.
Heidi slurped up some noodles, a long braid over one shoulder. “So what’d you learn about Davies?” She waited intently, an eager grin on her face.
After I finished another bite, I lowered my voice and the three of us leaned forward, our heads close together.
“Get this—Dylan Davies owed Bora Kang a ton of money, but a few months ago was able to pay her half of it back.”
Will frowned. “Where’d he get that kind of money? On a cop’s salary? Ha.” Crunch! He took a bite of his hard taco.
I nodded. “I’m wondering the same thing.” I held up a finger. “Also, he promised Ms. Kang that he’d pay her the rest of what he owed last weekend.”
Will frowned around his mouthful. “Last weekend?”
Heidi bounced in her seat, a spoonful of pho halfway to her mouth. “After the ball!”
I nodded, grinning. “I have a theory that he was going to get the rest of the money from someone at the policeman’s ball.”
Will narrowed his eyes. “From another cop? Again—they don’t make enough.”
I pointed my chopsticks at him. “Agreed. But cops weren’t the only ones there.”
“Ooh!” Heidi leaned forward. “Who are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking, Emerson Watts paid Davies off a few months ago to kill Gregor Caron, who would’ve testified against Emerson’s son, Jacob.” I leaned forward. “Maybe Davies tried to extort more money out him, and instead of paying, Emerson pushed him overboard to keep him quiet.”
Will snorted. “Sounds like your old boss.”
I lifted a brow and shoved more stir-fry into my mouth. True enough. I couldn’t believe I used to work for that guy, much less wanted to impress him.
I’d known back then that some of the clients I defended were guilty—some of the ones I got off scott free. I’d told myself it was just a game, and I and the firm were just playing our part. I had a pretty different view of justice these days.
“How are you going to prove it?” Will licked his enormous fingers.
I shook my head. “I’m not sure… maybe get back on the ship? There could’ve been a seagull or fish who saw what happened.” I shrugged. “But to do that, I’d need Peter’s help.”
Heidi slurped up some noodles. “You’re going to talk to him?” She shimmied her
shoulders. “Ooh.”
I heaved a great sigh. “If he’ll still speak to me.” I felt badly about the way I’d handled things the other day.
Heidi gave me an encouraging smile. “Of course he will. You asked for space, and he was just giving it to you. He’ll appreciate the lengths you went to for this information.”
I nodded. “Speaking of which, you know that dog you re-homed?”
Heidi nodded. “Rufio?”
“That’s the one. You’re gonna need to break him out for a date in an alley tomorrow night.”
Heidi’s eyes widened.
I polished off my stir-fry and stood. “Wish me luck. I’m going up to the station to talk to Peter.”
32
SUSPENDED
Edna, the office manager, sat on a tall stool behind her desk. She was the first person anyone coming into the police station saw, and I booked it straight to her. Well, “booked it” may have been an exaggeration. I clutched the stitch in my side and grumbled to myself as I limped over.
Bijou Mer was, after all, a mountain, and the jail sat at the very tippy top. When I still had my powers, I’d have just shifted into an owl and winged it up here. As it was, I’d exhausted myself hiking all the way up the winding cobblestone streets, through the tunnel of thorn bushes, and finally into the main lobby.
I threw both arms over the edge of the polished wood desk and plunked my head down on them. “Hey, Edna.” I glanced up.
The older woman looked at me over the rim of her purple cat glasses and smirked. “Hey doll. Rough night?”
She waited a beat for me to answer, then pressed a finger to her ear. “What’s that? No! I said interrogation room four, three’s occupied.” She rolled her eyes at me and mouthed, “They never listen.”
She nodded along as an officer, I assumed, spoke to her through the gumball-sized communication device in her ear. “Yeah, yeah. You speak to your mother with that mouth?” She pressed her ear again, her fingernail painted with a glittery leopard print, then turned her full attention to me.
“You looking for Peter?”
I still struggled for breath—man, I was out of shape—but managed a nod. My messy bun flopped on top of my head.
Edna blew out a big gust of air and leaned close to me. “Aw, doll, sorry to be the breaker of bad news, but Peter’s been suspended.”
I jerked my head up off my arms like she’d just zapped me with a spell. “What? When? Why?” I didn’t wait for her to answer. “That’s outrageous!”
She patted the air and darted her eyes around the bustling room. Rows of desks where officers worked lined the room behind her, and suspects waited in magical cuffs on a bench nearby. “Keep it down, toots.”
Edna’s bright pink lipstick feathered out from her lips, and her perfectly curled hair didn’t even move as she leaned close to me. I had to admire the woman’s style—I didn’t think, even at the top of my lawyer game, that I’d put so much effort into my look.
“I have to admit, I agree with you, but things are a little—er—delicate around here, so please keep your voice—”
I’d been biting my tongue, but I couldn’t hold back my outrage any longer. I cast a scathing look toward the inspector’s office. A lady officer manned the desk just outside, the transom window above the door cracked open. Good. I half hoped he could hear what I had to say—he deserved to know that people weren’t going to just stand by and let him take the best officer on the force off the beat.
I slammed a hand on the desk. “Bon’s an idiot!”
Edna’s eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off.
“How could he do that? Peter is the most loyal, hardworking, honest cop on the force. Was this because he went to Bon with his suspicions? How stupid do you have to be not to listen to Peter?”
I ignored the sharp looks cast my way by various cops stationed around the room.
Edna looked slightly ill. “Actually… it was Chief Taylor who suspended him.”
I frowned, surprised. “Oh.”
She scrunched up her nose. “And he happens to be standing right behind you.”
Right. Given my luck, of course he was. I licked my lips, scratched my nose, swallowed my pride, and spun around.
The man himself stood a few feet behind me, puffy bags below his eyes, his thick brows low over his intelligent eyes, and a scowl marking deep lines across his brow.
I winced. “Hey….”
“And you are?” His deep, gravelly voice made me forget myself for a moment.
I shook myself, straightened my spine, and forced myself to meet his intense gaze. “Jolene Hartgrave—I’ve been working with Officer Peter Flint as a consultant.”
One of Chief Taylor’s eyes twitched, and he shot a questioning look at Edna behind me.
“She reads animal minds,” Edna filled in.
Taylor’s scowl shifted to a sneer. There it was. That familiar look of such confidence in my abilities. “And you’re here because?”
I sucked in a breath and moved closer to the man. “Peter came to you with his suspicions that Davies was murdered?”
Taylor’s small dark eyes scanned my face. He gave me a curt nod.
“I’m here because I think Peter’s right. I’ve discovered evidence that suggests Davies’s death was no accident. You should reopen the case.”
He stared at me, his expression unreadable for a long moment, then slowly cast a look around the station. We’d drawn quite an audience, and gawking officers suddenly jumped and went back to pretending they were scribbling out paperwork or escorting criminals instead of eavesdropping.
Chief Taylor’s eyes bored into me as he fished around his teeth with his tongue. After several long moments, he blew out a heavy breath. “As Edna has, I’m sure, informed you, I suspended Officer Flint after a call from Emerson Watts. I’m assuming you are the former employee who took part in questioning him?”
So he knew about that, huh? I nodded, my stomach sinking.
Chief Taylor shifted on his feet. “So, I’m sure you understand I had no choice but to suspend Office Flint after such an egregious breach of police protocol.”
I opened my mouth to say Peter hadn’t know about my former professional relationship with Emerson, that it was my fault, but he cut me off.
“At the same time, Flint’s job is on the line, and this is an officer’s death we’re discussing, which is the only reason I’m willing to hear you out.”
Behind me, Edna coughed. I spun to face her and frowned at her expression. She flashed her eyes at me—she seemed like she was trying to communicate something. But what? A pair of officers dragged a struggling man with stringy hair up to the front desk, and Edna bit her lip, hesitating, then spun to address them.
“My time is valuable, Miss Hartgrave.”
I turned back to face Chief Taylor, who raised a single, pointed brow.
“So if you have this evidence, you’d better lay it out. Now!”
I jumped, but still, hesitated. Could I confide in this man? I thought of Peter. He’d been suspicious of something going on at the station, but at the same time, Chief Taylor seemed the only person able to give Peter his job back.
I nodded. “Alright. Davies owed money, a lot of it, to Bora Kang, who runs the Golden Tide gambling hall in the Darkmoon District.”
Chief Taylor’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know this?”
I thought of my inelegant scramble on all fours out of the back room after the poker game turned to an all-out brawl. I touched my temple and tried for an airy tone. “I have my ways.”
He grunted but waited for me to go on.
“Bora Kang said Davies paid her back a good chunk of it a few months ago, which lines up with when Davies killed that witness.”
Taylor scowled. “The one who attacked him while in custody?”
I gulped. “Unless… he didn’t. The guy didn’t have a history of violence, and he was in custody as a witness, not as a suspect. What woul
d his motive be?”
“Motive?” Taylor scoffed. “What motive would he need? He’s a criminal. Maybe he was hopped up on potions or just wanted revenge or had an episode. Who knows what’s going through the minds of these filthy criminals.”
I rolled my eyes. The police had such narrow viewpoints sometimes. “Okay, or Davies attacked first and injured himself, making it look like self-defense.”
It was Taylor’s turn to get annoyed. He shook his head at me. “And again—what’s the motive?” He took a step to the side. “I’m done.”
I side-stepped in front of him, blocking his way. “Emerson Watts paid Davies handsomely to do this. He needed the witness dead because the guy was going to testify against his son, Jacob. Jacob had recently crashed his airship into a warehouse and killed two men. The stakes were high—Emerson’s son would’ve been sent to prison for manslaughter.”
Taylor held very still and dropped his gaze, seeming to think it over. “Then who do you think killed Davies?”
I tried to hold back my grin. I’d hooked him—he was curious now, willing to consider another possibility. That was all I needed.
“The money Emerson paid Davies was enough to pay off some, but not all of his debts. Bora Kang was still breathing down Davies’s neck, so he decided to try and extort more merkles out of Emerson the night of the police ball. Emerson, seeing that Davies couldn’t be trusted to keep the secret, took advantage of his intoxicated state and pushed him overboard.”
I sucked in a breath. “I came here to tell Peter what I’d found and to suggest we return to the ship, the scene of the crime.” I shrugged. “There might be a seagull there who saw something that I could interrogate.”
Chief Taylor pursed his lips, his gaze far away, and nodded to himself. Finally, he looked up, eyes focused on me. “I’m not sure I believe in your animal abilities, Miss Hartgrave, but you present a fairly convincing theory.”
I opened my mouth to start convincing him further, but he held up a hand. “Now don’t get too excited—I’m not saying I’m convinced yet, and I doubt a seagull will make for any kind of reliable witness”—he shot me a dark look—“but returning to the scene of the crime isn’t a bad idea. We may stumble across some piece of evidence we missed.”