by G. R. Lyons
“Do you think they'll figure out a way to help us?”
Charlie looked at her, then looked away, thinking. “I have no idea. Gods, I hope so but…if he's that powerful…”
Asenna nodded to herself, looking down at her hands and picking at an old scar absentmindedly. Charlie watched her, trying to think of something to say, but nothing came to him.
And then more nothing came to him, as two weeks passed with no activity whatsoever. Asenna had no more visions, and no more murders were reported. They repeated old interviews, followed every lead they could think of, but nothing turned up.
The Rose Killer seemed to have simply vanished.
Chapter 19
BENASH STOOD beside the conference table, his vision going blurry as he tried to force aside exhaustion and focus on the task at hand. The entire wall before him in the conference room was littered with files, pictures, notes, and lists—anything and everything they had gathered on any one of the Rose Killer's victims, and none of it seemed to connect.
Heaving a sigh, he flicked his hand to one side and waited while his coffee mug moved from the table to his fingers, not even having to look as he performed the trick. He heard Malrin mutter something under his breath, but ignored the man, instead closing his eyes and letting out a sigh as the hot drink rushed down his throat. Benash took another drink and sent the mug back to the table without looking, triggering another muttered complaint from somewhere behind him.
Benash almost laughed. The telekinesis was so effortless, after decades of practice, it was strange for him to think that it had once been as shocking and unsettling as it was for Malrin and others now.
Shaking aside thoughts of the past, Benash strode over to a portion of the wallscreen where they were painstakingly going through a list of potential suspects. Lady Farren had supplied them with a list of all known magi currently in existence. Though the magi were relatively few compared to the entire population of the world, it was still a daunting list, taking the names one at a time and tracking down their movements, looking for known locations and alibis in hopes of narrowing down the number of possibilities.
The tedious work was slow-going at best, and it certainly didn't help that there was always the knowledge that any one of the magi could magically transport himself from one location to another and back so quickly as to not be missed, thereby keeping an alibi intact.
Benash rubbed his eyes and reached for his coffee.
“Hey, Chief?”
He turned around and saw Lehinis frowning down at the conference table.
“What?”
“There's a call for you,” Lehinis said, pointing at one section of the glass table. “On your private line.”
Benash strode forward and looked where Lehinis pointed, the call icon flashing red, insistent. That line had been out of use since he'd moved to New Haven, and he was fairly certain he hadn't reactivated it upon their temporary return.
He shared a glance with the others, and reached out to tap the icon, accepting the call.
“Have you figured out my crime yet, Mr. Rothbur?”
Benash stared at the table's surface as though he could see the source of the voice through its digital display of a green phone emblem.
“Who is this?” Benash asked slowly, but he knew the answer just before the caller could respond.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” the man said. “Surely you remember our charming conversation in your interrogation room back in New Haven?”
Benash looked up at Malrin and thrust out a finger, silently telling the detective to start a trace on the call.
“Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, Mr. Rothbur,” the caller said, a sickly sweet laughter to his voice. “You'll never be able to trace this call.”
Startled, Benash looked around, all the others doing the same. There was no stranger amongst them, nor did they see anyone suspicious through the windows, but somehow, they knew, the man could see them.
“Who are you?” Benash asked again.
“Now, now, Mr. Rothbur, you'll spoil the game. That would make it too easy, and I'm having far too much fun.”
Clenching his hands into fists, Benash leaned on the edge of the table and spat, “What do you want?”
The man chuckled. “Just fair warning, is all. If you haven't figured out my crimes yet, you will soon. Look into your memories, and you'll see why you and Charlie Crawford are next.”
Benash's eyes met Charlie's over the table.
“And last,” the man added. “Once I've rid the world of you two, my work will be complete.”
Still holding Charlie's gaze, Benash took a breath, forced his voice calm and even, and said, “You're the killer. The one leaving flowers for the victims.”
A short pause, then a chuckle. “Very good, Mr. Rothbur. It's just a shame it took you so long to figure it out. And now it's too late. You'll never find me before I find you.”
Benash clenched his jaw and looked down at the phone icon. “Where are you? Let's settle this now.”
The man laughed. “Oh, no, no, no!” He laughed again. “No, Mr. Rothbur. That would be too easy, and would spoil the fun. You still need to learn why you must die, first. Look to your memories. I'm sure it will come to you.”
“What–” Benash started to ask, but the call ended with a soft click and the room fell silent.
Benash glanced at Charlie, who was staring in horror at the blank conference table, then looked to Malrin and Lehinis.
Malrin looked up with a grimace. “Sorry, Chief. I tried a trace. It kept coming back with interference.”
Benash took a deep breath, and asked, “Please tell me you had video on in the interrogation room that day.”
Malrin and Lehinis shared a look, and Malrin shrunk back, shaking his head. “We didn't think it would be necessary.”
“We thought he was just some punk playing a game,” Lehinis added.
Tightening his fists, Benash closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out before he faced them again. He hadn't taken the man seriously that day, either, so he couldn't very well blame them. “Right. Thank you.”
A tense silence fell over the room, until Charlie asked in a whisper, “What do we do now, Chief?”
All the men around the room shared silent, questioning, uncertain glances.
Benash sighed and turned back to the wallscreen and their tedious lists of possible suspects.
“Back to work,” Benash growled.
* * *
EVERY DAY, Charlie found himself in the chief's office, both of them wracking their brains for any new ideas, but nothing came to them. No matter how many times they went over the evidence, no matter how many times they cross-referenced databases, no matter how many interviews they conducted, it seemed they couldn't get any closer to answers.
Charlie leaned back in a chair while Benash did the same behind his desk, both of them silent and looking around aimlessly.
“Hey, Chief?”
Charlie spun around, and Chief started as Asenna slipped into the room.
“Am I disturbing?” she asked.
“No, no,” the chief said, rubbing his eyes and reaching out for his coffee mug. “Come in.”
Charlie watched her carefully close the door, then approach the desk, a look of determination on her face.
Asenna squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, clasped her hands in front of her, and said, “I want Saira's file.”
Across from him, Charlie saw Benash freeze with his mug halfway to his mouth.
“Not now, Shyth,” the chief said after a pause.
“But why, Chief?” she asked, her arms dropping to her sides. “Why can't I ever have access to it?”
“Because I'm using it,” Chief said, his tone short. “I…I'm trying to go over a few details, see if there's anything I missed–”
“And why can't I do the same?” Asenna argued. “For the gods' sakes, Chief, I've lived her attack. Her vision comes to me more often than any of the others. What difference w
ould it make to let me see her file if–”
“I'm not giving it to you and that's final!”
Asenna blinked, mouth agape, and took a half step back.
Chief sighed. “I'm sorry. It's just…my daughter, my failure. I just…”
Asenna opened her mouth, looking like she might argue, then Charlie saw her look at each of them in turn, her determination slipping away, replaced by a sympathetic frown.
“I'm sorry,” she murmured. “You're right. Of course you'd want to keep it close, and…”
She trailed off, fidgeting awkwardly, then turned and left the room.
Charlie glanced up at the chief as the door shut behind him, and saw Benash shake his head.
“Dad?”
“I just can't seem to let it out of my reach,” the chief whispered.
“I know, Chief. I know.”
They lapsed into silence, and after a moment, Benash shoved aside his coffee mug and reached for his tablet, rapidly flipping through pages in a digital file. Charlie watched him for a moment, then did the same, taking up his own tablet and digging through case files, making notes any time an idea came to him, or any time he thought of a possible connection, but mostly just stared at the screen, praying for answers.
“Knock, knock,” a female voice said, suiting action to word as the door opened behind him.
Across the desk, Charlie saw Chief's eyes light up.
“Princess!” he said with a smile, rising from the chair and meeting the visitor halfway.
Charlie paused in his reading and watched them, seeing a blonde woman of about his own age give the chief a warm hug.
“Hey there, Hawk,” she said. “How are you?”
“Oh, busy. By the gods, it's good to see you. How's Jevon?”
The woman waved a hand. “Oh, you know Dad. He's working like a machine, trying to keep himself busy and avoid the attentions of a certain lady.”
Chief shook his head and went back to his desk. “He still won't date, will he?”
“Pfff, never,” the woman said, striding over to the window and admiring the view. “I don't think he'll ever stop grieving my mother.”
Charlie slowly kept writing, but looked up from under his eyelashes just in time to see Chief's smile fade.
“Yes, I know the feeling,” Chief murmured.
The woman spun around, and Charlie saw her eyes fix on the picture frame on the desk.
“Yeah, I guess you do,” she said, reaching out and picking up the frame. “I can't believe you still have this.”
Charlie looked up, and saw Chief watching the woman as she clung to the picture frame, her eyes scanning the lines of the burnt and torn page carefully preserved behind the glass.
The woman sniffed, and recited, “'So the renkana vanished into the forest, returning to the earth, but the hawk and his friends stayed, helping to rebuild what was destroyed…'”
Charlie sat very still, watching them, not wanting to disturb the moment but not understanding it in the least. The woman lovingly stroked the edge of the picture frame while Benash gazed at it from his seat, chuckling softly to himself as he looked into the past.
“She'll never leave us, will she?” the woman asked, carefully resting the frame back on the chief's desk.
Benash shook his head. “Never.”
Then they went utterly silent, and Charlie held his breath, his work forgotten, not wanting to break the silence with the click of tapping letters on his screen. It was strange, seeing how they'd forgotten his presence, but he found himself so curious that he didn't want to distract them and draw attention to himself.
He watched as the woman looked down at the chief with a questioning expression, but didn't say anything.
Benash turned away, looking down at his hands, and shrugged.
The woman put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows.
Benash sighed heavily, turned to face her, and stared at her for a long moment, still not saying a word.
Charlie shivered involuntarily, trying to figure out what was going on. He watched the changing expressions and gestures, but never heard a word from either of them.
After a few moments, Benash suddenly started and looked over at Charlie.
“Crawford, you may go,” Chief said, his voice sounding strained.
Charlie felt a touch of color on his cheeks as he messily gathered up his things. He hurried toward the door just as the chief murmured to the woman, “I'm sure Vorena's here if you want to visit for a while…”
A sheet of paper on the desk moved of its own accord, and Charlie rushed out the door, slamming it shut behind him. He froze there for a moment, alone in the hallway with his hand still clutching the door knob, and tried to catch his breath.
“You're not going mad, you're not going mad,” he muttered to himself. “There really is a ghost. You're not going mad.”
Between watching Tanasians communicate without speaking, witnessing Asenna's visions, feeling a ghostly presence, and experiencing the magic of Jadu'n, Charlie thought going back to plain, boring desk work might not be so bad.
But first, there was a killer to find.
A nightmare to finish.
A wife to be avenged.
He grabbed Lehinis, got in his car, and went to check on what would probably be another fruitless lead.
* * *
ASENNA PACED the office that had been temporarily converted into a makeshift Spirit room for the duration of their stay in Oaks Pass. With nothing more than an old couch and some chairs, most of which were stacked in the corner, she found herself alternately unsettled and bored to tears.
Chief and Malrin had gone out to investigate one lead, Crawford and Lehinis, another, so she was stuck in that room, all alone, hiding out while she waited for them to return.
She crossed from one end of the room to the other, almost wishing she could go outside, or at least back to the hotel where there was a bed to nap in or a film database to keep her distracted. Passing a low table, she picked up her tablet, then set it down again, too brain-fried to consider going over the files again.
Even with the new details coming in from Five Oaks Agency, and the information they'd gotten from Lady Farren, she still wasn't finding the key to the whole mess.
And at that moment, it was all buzzing around her mind too much for her to care.
Gods, I need a vacation, she thought, then threw her head back and laughed, knowing perfectly well she'd have nowhere to go. She could just picture herself, lying on some beach somewhere, enjoying the heat of the sun and the sound of the waves, and having it all interrupted by a crippling vision.
Not that she'd had any visions since the night Guildmistress V'dynos was killed. Gods, that had been a strange one. The Erosti woman's mind had an odd feel to it, one that Asenna had never encountered before.
And the woman had been far more terrified about being raped than being shot. Hells, she almost seemed to welcome that moment of death, and the vision had faded so quickly that Asenna had found only the barest hint of a phantom gunshot wound to her own forehead when she looked in the mirror once it was all over.
Asenna shivered, trying to push the memory of that vision out of her mind.
She crossed the room again, starting and whirling around when she heard the door open behind her.
“Hells, Crawford,” she gasped as he entered the room and shut the door. “You could have knocked.”
“Sorry. Got too much in the habit since I've been working with you. Here.” He tossed her a plastic bag knotted up tight around a small container. “Brought you something.”
Asenna tore the bag open as she sat down on the couch, revealing a pint of her favorite ice cream.
“Gods, Crawford, you're a life saver.”
He handed her a spoon from his jacket pocket and took out one for himself, opening another bag he had in his hand. He sat down beside her and dug right in, both of them silent as they savored.
“You have no idea how much I needed thi
s,” she said. “Or, well, I guess you did.”
Crawford chuckled around a mouthful and nodded.
“Are you guys finding anything out there?” she asked.
“Not a thing. Still no leads, and no new murders. I guess he really is finished…”
He trailed off, an uncomfortable look on his face.
“What?” she asked. Crawford made himself busy with his ice cream, so Asenna leveled a look at him. “What, Crawford? What aren't you telling me?”
He opened his mouth a few times, hesitating, then finally said, “He threatened me and Chief.”
Asenna gaped at him. “You found him?”
“Well…sort of…” He trailed off with a grimace. “He called here, threatened us, but we couldn't trace it. We still have no idea who he actually is. And he said he's basically done.”
“Fucking wonderful,” she muttered, scooping up a thick chunk of brownie. “I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't want him killing anyone else but…Gods, what if he just vanishes and we're never able to track him down?”
Crawford shrugged. “We'll just have to keep trying.”
Asenna looked over at him, seeing the stern determination in his eyes. Of course he would never give up trying. It was the only way to lay his own ghosts to rest.
Moving hesitantly, she reached over and gave his hand a quick squeeze before turning back to her ice cream.
Crawford took another bite, cleared his throat, and asked, “Do you want to go over the files again or–”
“No, not today. I can't get my head clear. I'm starting to get details confused and victims mixed up. I just wish it would all go away for a few minutes so I could just…just see clearly, you know?”
Crawford nodded. “You wanna go for a walk or something? Maybe just through the alleyways where we're less likely to be seen? I'm sure Chief would agree as long as we're armed.”
Asenna set her ice cream aside and glanced around the confining room.
“That does sound kinda nice actually, but–”